THE STORY OF A SHIP. IT HAD NO PROW OR SAIL OR STEAM OR HELM. But Rev. Dr. Talmage Says It Eclipsed All Modern Steamships--An Eloquent Sermon by the Great Divine on the Gospel Invitation.

NEW YORK, March 31.--Although his oratory is at times magnetic and eloquent, there is one theme with which, whenever he makes it the groundwork of his sermon, Dr. Talmage never fails to communicate to his auditors the enthusiasm he himself feels. That theme is the gospel invitation, and when this afternoon he took for his subject "The Gospel Ship" the great audience that crowded the Academy was in full sympathy. The text selected was Genesis vi, 18, "Thou shalt come into the ark, thou and thy sons and thy wife and thy sons' wives with thee." In this day of the steamships Lucania and Majestic and the Paris I will show you a ship that in some respects eclipsed them all, and which sailed out, an ocean underneath and another ocean falling upon it. Infidel scientists ask us to believe that in the formation of the earth there have been a half dozen deluges, and yet they are not willing to believe

the Bible story of one deluge.

In what way the catastrophe came we know not--whether by the stroke of a comet, or by flashes of lightning, changing the air into water, or by a stroke of the hand of God, like the stroke of the ax between the horns of the ox, the earth staggered. To meet the catastrophe God ordered a great ship built. It was to be without prow, for it was to sail to no shore. It was to be without helm, for no human hand should guide it. It was a vast structure, probably as large as two or three modern steamers. It was the Great Eastern of olden time. The ship is done. The door is open. The lizards crawl in. The cattle walk in. The grasshoppers hop in. The birds fly in. The invitation goes forth to

Noah, "Come thou and all thy house into the ark." Just one human family embark on the strange voyage, and I hear the door slam shut. A great storm sweeps along the hills and bends the cedars until all the branches snap in the gale. There is a moan in the wind like unto the moan of a dying world. The blackness of the heavens is shattered by the flare of the lightnings, that look down into the waters and throw a ghastliness on the face of the mountains. How strange it looks! How suffocating the air seems! The big drops of rain begin to plash upon the upturned faces of those who are watching the tempest. Crash! go the rocks in convulsion. Boom! go the bursting heavens. The inhabitants of the earth, instead of flying to house top and mountain top, as men have fancied, sit down in dumb, white horror to die. For when God grinds mountains to pieces and lets the ocean slip its cable there is no place for men to fly to. See the ark pitch and tumble in the surf, while from its windows the passengers look out upon the shipwreck of a race and the carcasses of a dead world. Woe to the moun-

tains! Woe to the sea!

A Terrible Storm.

I am no alarmist. When on the 20th of September, after the wind has for three days been blowing from the northeast, you prophesy that the equinoctial storm is coming, you simply state a fact not to be disputed. Neither am I an alarmist when I say that a storm is coming, compared with which Noah's deluge was but an April shower, and that it is wisest and safest for you and for me to get safely housed for eternity. The invitation that went forth to Noah sounds in our ears, "Come thou and all

thy house into the ark."

Well, how did Noah and his family come into the ark? Did they climb in at the window, or come down the roof? No; they went through the door. And just so, if we get into the ark of God's mercy, it will be through Christ, the door. The entrance to the ark of old must have been a very large entrance. We know that it was from the fact that there were monster animals in the earlier ages, and in order to get them into the ark, two and two, according to the Bible statement, the door must have been very wide and very high. So the door into the mercy of God is a large door. We go in, not two and two, but by hundreds, and by thousands and by millions. Yes, all the nations of the earth may go in, 10,000,000 abreast! The door of the ancient ark was in the side. So now it is through the side of Christ--the pierced side, the wide open side, the heart side--that we enter. Aha, the Roman soldier, thrusting his spear into the Saviour's side, expected only to let the blood out, but he opened the way to let all the world in! Oh, what a broad gospel to preach! If

a man is about to give an entertain-

ment, he issues 200 or 500 invitations, carefully put up and directed to the particular persons whom he wishes to entertain. But God, our father, makes a banquet and goes out to the front door of heaven and stretches out his hands over land and sea, and with a voice that penetrates the Hindoo jungle, and the Greenland ice castle, and Brazilian grove, and English factory, and American home, cries out, "Come, for all things are now ready!" It is a wide door! The old cross has been taken apart, and its two pieces are stood up for the doorposts, so far apart that all the world can come in. Kings scatter treasures on days of great rejoicing. So Christ, our king, comes and scatters the

jewels of heaven.

Rowland Hill said that he hoped to get into heaven through the crevices of the door. But he was not obliged thus to go in. After having preached the gospel in Surrey chapel, going up toward heaven, the gatekeeper cried, "Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates, and let this man come in!" The dying thief went in, Richard Baxter and Robert Newton went in. Europe, Asia, Africa, North and South America may yet go through this wide door without crowding. Ho! every one--all conditions, all ranks, all people! Luther said that this truth was worth carrying on one's knees from Rome to Jerusalem, but I think it worth carrying all around the globe and all around the heavens, that "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Whosoever will, let him come through the large door. Archimedes wanted a fulcrum on which to place his lever, and then he said he could move the world. Calvary is the ful-

crum, and the cross of Christ is the lever, and by that power all nations shall yet be lifted. The Swinging Door. Further, it is a door that swings both ways. I do not know whether the door of the ancient ark was lifted or rolled on hinges, but this door of Christ opens both ways. It swings out forward all our woes; it swings in toward the raptures of heaven. It swings in to let us in; it swings out to let our ministering ones come out. All are one in Christ--Chris-tians on earth and saints in heaven. One army of the living God At his command we bow. Part of the host have crossed the flood And part are crossing now. Swing in, O blessed door, until all the earth shall go in and live. Swing out until all the heavens come forth to celebrate the victory. Bur, further, it is a door with fastenings. The Bible says of Noah, "The Lord shut him in." A vessel without bulwarks or doors would not be a safe vessel to go in. When Noah and his family heard the fastening of the door of the ark, they were very glad. Unless these doors were fastened the first heavy surge of the sea would have whelmed them, and they might as well have perished outside the ark as inside the ark. "The Lord shut him in." Oh, the perfect safety of the ark! The surf of the sea and the lightnings of the sky may be twisted into a garland of snow and fire--deep to deep, storm to storm, darkness to darkness--but once in the ark all is well. "God shut him in." There comes upon the good man a deluge of financial trouble. He had his thousands to lend. Now he cannot borrow a dollar. He once owned a store in New York and had branch houses in Boston, Philadelphia and New Orleans. He owned four horses and employed a man to keep the dust off his couch, phaeton, carriage and curricle; now he has hard work to get shoes in which to walk. The great deep of commercial disaster was broken up, and fore and aft and across the hurricane deck the waves struck him. But he was safely sheltered from the storm. "The Lord shut him in!" A flood of domestic troubles fell on him." Sickness and bereavement came. The rain pelted; the winds blew. The heavens are aflame. All the gardens of earthly delight are washed away. The mountains of joy are buried 15 cubits deep. But, standing by the empty crib and in the desolated nursery and in the doleful hall, once a-ring with merry voices, now silent forever, he cried, "The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." "The Lord shut him in." All the sins of a lifetime clamored for his overthrow. The broken vows, the dishonored Sabbaths, the outrageous profanities, the misdemeanors of 20 years, reached up their hands to the door of the ark to pull him out. The boundless ocean of his sin surrounded his soul, howling like a simoom, raving like an euroclydon. But, looking out of the window, he saw his sin sink like lead into the depths of the sea. The dove of heav-

en brought an olive branch to the ark. The wrath of the billow only pushed him toward heaven. "The Lord shut him in!"

The Heavenly Home. The same door fastenings that kept

Noah in keep the troubles out. I am glad to know that when a man reaches heaven all earthly troubles are done with him. Here he may have had it hard to get bread for his family; there he will never hunger any more. Here he may have wept bitterly; there "the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne will lead him to living fountains of water, and God will wipe away all tears from his eyes." Here he may have hard work to get a house; but in my Father's house are many mansions, and rent day never comes. Here there are deathbeds and coffins and graves; there no sickness, no weary watching, no choking cough, no consuming fever, no chattering chill, no tolling bell, no grave. The sorrows of life shall come up and knock at the door, but no admittance. The perplexities of life shall come up and knock on the door, but no admittance. Safe forever! All the agony of earth in one wave dashing against the bulwarks of the ship of celestial light shall not break them down. Howl on, ye winds, and rage, ye seas! The Lord--"the Lord shut him

in!"

Oh, what a grand old door! So wide, so easily swung both ways and with such sure fastenings. No burglar's key can pick that lock. No swarthy arm of hell can shove back that bolt. I rejoice that I do not ask you to come aboard a crazy craft with leaking bulk and broken helm and unfastened door, but an ark 50 cubits wide and 200 cubits long and a door so large that the round earth, without grazing the post, might be bowled in. Now, if the ark of Christ is so grand a place in which to live and die and triumph, come into the ark. Know well that the door that shut Noah in shut others out, and though, when the pitiless storm came pelting on their heads, they beat upon the door, saying: "Let me in! Let me in!" the door did not open. For 120 years they were invited. They expected to come in, but the antediluvians said: "We must cultivate those fields; we must be worth more flocks of sheep and herds of cattle; we will wait until we get a little older; we will enjoy our old farm a little longer." But meanwhile the storm was brewing. The fountains of heaven were filling up. The pry was being placed beneath the foundations of the great deep. The last year had come, the last month, the last week, the last day, the last hour, the last moment. In an awful dash an ocean dropped from the sky and another rolled up from beneath, and God rolled the earth and sky into one wave of universal destruction. Outside the Ark. So men now put off going into the ark. They say they will wait 20 years first. They will have a little longer time with their worldly associates. They will wait until they get older. They say: "You cannot expect a man of my attainments and of my position to surrender myself just now. But before the storm comes I will go in. Yes, I will. I know what I am about. Trust me!" After awhile, one night about 12 o'clock, going home, he passes a scaffolding just as a gust of wind strikes it, and a plank falls. Dead, and outside the ark! Or, riding in the park, a reckless vehicle crashes into him, and his horse becomes unmanageable, and he shouts, "Whoa, whoa!" and takes another twist in the reins and plants his feet against the dashboard and pulls back. But no use. It is not so much down the avenue that he flies as on the way to eternity. Out of the wreck of the crash his body is drawn, but his soul is not picked up. It fled behind a swifter courser into the great future. Dead, and outside the ark! Or some night he wakes up with a distress that momentarily increases until he shrieks with pain. The doctors come in, and they give him 20 drops, but no relief; 40 drops, 50 drops, 60 drops, but no relief. No time for prayer. No time to read one of the promises. No time to get a single sin pardoned. The whole house is aroused in alarm. The children scream. The wife faints. The pulses fail. The heart stops. The son dies. Dead, and outside the ark! I have no doubt that derision kept many people out of the ark. The world laughed to see a man go in and said: "Here is a man starting for the ark. Why, there will be no deluge. If there is one, that miserable ship will not weather it. Aha, going into the ark! Well, that is too good to keep. Here, fellows, have you heard the news? This man is going into the ark!" Under this artillery of scorn the man's good resolution perished. And so there are hundreds kept out by the fear of derision. The young man asks himself: "What would they say at the store tomorrow morning if I should become a Christian? When I go down to the clubhouse, they will shout, 'Here comes that new Christian. Suppose you will not have anything to do with us now. Suppose you are praying now. Get down on your knees, and let us hear you pray. Come, now, give us a touch. Will not do it, eh? Pretty Christian, you are!" Is it not the fear of being laughed at that keeps you out of the kingdom of God? Which of these scorners will help you at the last? When you lie down on a dying pillow, which of them will be there? In the day of eternity will they bail you out?

An Invitation.

My friends and neighbors, come in right away. Come in through Christ, the wide door, the door that swings out toward you. Come in, and be saved.

Come and be happy. "The Spirit and the Bride say, Come." Room in the ark! Room in the ark! But do not come alone. The text invites you to bring your family. It says, "Thou and thy sons and thy wife." You cannot drive them in. If Noah had tried to drive the pigeons and the doves into the ark, he would only have scattered them. Some parents are not wise about these things. They make iron rules about Sabbaths, and they force the catechism down the throat as they would hold the child's nose and force down a dose of rhubarb and calomel. You cannot drive your children into the ark.

You can draw your children to Christ, but you cannot coerce them. The cross was lifted not to drive, but to draw.

"If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto me." As the sun draws up the drops of the morning dew so the sun of righteousness exhales the tears of re-

pentance.

Be sure that you bring your husband and wife with you. How would Noah

have felt if, when he heard the rain pattering on the roof of the ark, he knew that his wife was outside in the storm? No; she went with him. And yet some of you are on the ship "outward bound" for heaven. But your companion is unsheltered. You remember the day when the marriage ring was set. Nothing has yet been able to break it. Sickness came, and the finger shrank, but the ring staid on. The twain stood alone above the child's grave, and the dark mouth of the tomb swallowed up a thousand hopes, but the ring dropped not into the open grave. Days of poverty came, and the hand did many a hard day's work, but the rubbing of the work against the ring only made it shine brighter. Shall that ring ever be lost? Will the iron clang of the sepulcher gate crush it forever? I pray God that you who have been married on earth may be together in heaven. Oh, by the quiet bliss of your earthly home by the babe's cradle, by all the vows of that day when you started life together, I beg you to see to it that you both get into the ark.

For the Whole Family.

Come in, and bring your wife or your husband with you--not by fretting about religion or dingdonging them about religion, but by a consistent life and by a compelling prayer that shall bring the throne of God down into your room. Go home and take up the Bible and read it together, and then kneel down and commend your souls to him who has watched you all these years, and before you rise there will be a fluttering of wings over your head, angel crying to angel, "Behold, they pray!" But this does not include all your family. Bring the children too. God bless the dear children! What would our homes be without them? We may have done much for them. They have done more for us. What a salve for a wounded heart there is in the soft palm of a child's hand! Did harp or flute ever have such music as there is in a child's "good night?" From our coarse, rough life the angels of God are often driven back. But who comes into the nursery without feeling that angels are hovering around. They who die in infancy go straight into glory, but you are expecting your children to grow up in this world. Is it not a question, then, that rings through all the corridors and windings and heights and depths of your soul, what is to become of your sons and daughters for time and for eternity?

"Oh," you say, "I mean to see that they have good manners." Very well. "I mean to dress them well, if I have myself to go shabby." Very good. "I shall give them an education; I shall leave them a fortune." Very well. But is that all? Don't you mean to take them into the ark? Don't you know that the storm is coming, and that out of Christ there is no safety, no pardon, no hope, no heaven? How to get them in? Go in yourself. If Noah had staid out, do you not suppose that his sons--Shem, Ham and Japheth--would have staid out? Your sons and daughters will be apt to do just as you do. Reject Christ yourself, and the probability is that your children will reject him.

The Family Altar. An account was taken of the religious condition of families in a certain district. In the families of pious parents two-thirds of the children were Christians. In the families where the parents were ungodly only one-twelfth of the children were Christians. Which way will you take your children? Out into the deluge or into the ark? Have you ever made one earnest prayer for their immortal souls? What will you say in the judgment when God asks, "Where is George or Henry or Frank or Mary or Anna? Where are those precious souls whose interests I committed into your hands?" A dying son said to his father, "Father, you gave me an education and good manners and everything that the world could do for me, but father, you never told me how to die, and now my soul is going out in the darkness."

Oh, ye who have taught your children how to live, have you also taught them how to die? Life here is not so important as the great hereafter. It is not so much the few furlongs this side of the grave as it is the unending leagues beyond. O eternity, eternity! Thy locks white with the ages, thy voice announcing stupendous destiny, thy arms rowing across all the past and all the future! O eternity, eternity! Go home and erect a family altar. You may break down in your prayer. But never mind, God will take what you mean, whether you express it intelligibly or not. Bring all your house into the ark. Is there one son whom you have given up? Is he so dissipated that you have stopped counseling and praying? Give him up? How dare you give him up? Did God ever give you up? While you have a single articulation of speech left, cease not to pray for the return of that prodigal. He may even now be standing on the beach at Hongkong or Madras, meditating a return to his father's home. Give him up? Never give him up! Has God promised to hear thy prayer only to mock thou? It is not too late.

The Open Door.

In St. Paul's, London, there is a whispering gallery. A voice uttered most feebly at one side of the gallery is heard distinctly at the opposite side, a great instance off. So every word of earnest prayer goes all around the earth and makes heaven a whispering gallery. On into the ark--not to sit down, but to stand in the door and call until all the family come in. Aged Noah, where is Japheth? David, where is Absalom? Hannah, where is Samuel?

On one of the lake steamers there were a father and two daughters journeying. They seemed extremely poor. A benevolent gentleman stepped up to the poor man to proffer some form of relief and said, "You seem to be very poor, sir." "Poor, sir," replied the man, "if there's a poorer man than me a-troublin the world, God pity both of us!" "I will take one of your children and adopt it, if you say so. I think it would be a great relief to you." "A what?" said the poor man. "A relief! Would it be a relief to have the hands chopped off from the body, or the heart torn from the breast? A relief indeed! God be good to us! What do you mean, sir?" However many children we have, we have none to give up. Which of our families can we afford to spare out of heaven? Will it be the oldest? Will it be the youngest? Will it be that one that was sick some time ago? Will it be the husband? Will it be the wife? No, no! We must have them all in. Let us take the children's hands and start new. Leave not one behind. Come, father; come, mother; come, son; come, daughter; come, brother; come, sister! Only one step and we are in. Christ, that door, swings out to admit us. And it is not the hoarseness of a stormy blast that you hear, but the voice of a loving and patient God that addresses you, saying, "Come, thou and all thy house, into the ark." And there may the Lord shut us in!

WASTE IN FARMING. Wealth From the Soil Which Has Been Thrown Away In the Past. When nature is prodigal, man is wasteful. Waste has been the rule in American agriculture. Accumulating mold of ages of vegetation was adored at $1.25 per acre. Afterward it was given away, subject to official fees for perfecting a title, both the natives and immigrants. With land free to all, there was prodigality of fertility and economy of labor. Thus in primitive agriculture, rotation, cultivation, diversification, were all sacrificed, and fertility was transmuted into net cash. Because wheat could be grown without cultivation on the broken sod, and because it was always a cash crop, little else was grown, and because there was so much of it and so few farm animals the straw which is worth as much in England as the whole crop here, was burned to get rid of it, and because of this repeating of a crop without cultivation weeds much more than loss of fertility reduced the rate of yield until at last, because of extension of wheat area beyond the needs of consumption, price was reduced and profits destroyed. Thus nature, which cannot be trifled with safely, has been avenged, and the wheat grower is muddled in trying to lay the blame upon the currency, the tariff or anything other than his own uneconomical and wasteful practice. The same abandon attended early efforts in animal industry. Unimproved breeds were kept four years or more on lush grass in summer, in the lee of a haystack in winter, fattening at one season and existing at another, favoring the production of fat and lean in layers, to be sold at low prices to unsatisfied consumers. The first butter dairies--for instance, Pratt's in New York--required 40 pounds of milk to make one pound of butter. He, by selection and care, reduced the requirement almost one half, and now some Jerseys produce a pound of butter for 13 pounds of milk. The "bogging down" of corn in feeding cattle and hogs was another wasteful pro-

cedure in primitive farming.

It was the same with cotton. The

seed was wasted or only used for manure. Sometimes stock was killed by being gorged over a pile of seed, but

oil of the seed, which was wasted if ap-

plied to the soil, and almost as much

more should be got from feeding the

cake, with incidental foods to constitute a suitable ration and costing almost nothing. In this way all the valuable

elements of the seed are returned to the

soil, with additional manurial value of

other feeding material. Pork, if not

beef, can be produced in the mild climate of the south with cottonseed cake, cowpeas and other fall and winter growing forage plants even cheaper than the

central west.

In wooded sections the first and largest opportunity for waste was found in the wanton destruction of wood and timber, and it was improved until large

areas have become deserts. In every ru-

ral industry exploitation has been deple-

tion and destruction.

When flax became an auxiliary or successor to wheat a million of acres went into cultivation for seed, and the straw was thrown away, though coarse fiber worth $100 per ton had been made of the straw as it lies from the mower, while by a slight change of method of culture and treatment, as is done in Europe, far more valuable fiber can be produced. Flaxgrowers will say it cannot be done, because they do not know how and will not learn, but it has been done and is done successfully and uniformly in other flax growing countries.--Prairie Farmer.

Some of the Remarkable Experiences of Psychical Investigations. Ghostly experiences were the order of the evening at a recent meeting of the Society For Psychical Research. William James of Harvard university presided and said that it was well to receive experiences narrated with judicial impartiality as to the source and significance. Secretary Richard Hodgson read extracts from a revised proof of F. W. H. Wyer's second paper on "The Experiences of W. Stainton Moses." One ex-

tract was as follows:

"On one occasion Mr. Moses, while in a trance, got out of his body and stood looking at it with no surprise whatever at his singular situation. Suddenly he became conscious of the presence of a venerable, bearded prophet, who stood beside him. The ghostly visitor was clad in a very bright blue garment. On his head was a coronet, over which was a star. With the prophet as a guide, he left the apartment. His first sensation of surprise was caused by the ease with which he passed through the wall. The pair traversed beautiful gardens till they came to a small cottage. There Mr. Moses saw his aged grandmother, much idealized, but still looking as she did during her earthly existence. She tried to speak to him, but his guide hurried him away. He afterward received spiritual information that the interruption was due to the unfavorable condition ex-

isting at the time."

Another communication contained the following experience of Mrs. Conner, who was also accustomed to leaving her body: "At a hotel in New York, on one occasion, she made one of these extra-corporeal excursions. She could feel her spirit passing out through her head. She was whirled about the room, several times touching the walls. She hesitated whether to pass through the roof or out of the window, but finally chose the window. She noticed that the sky was very red. Finally she crawled back into her body. When she awoke, the sky wore the same red appearance she had noticed while on her strange excursion. Mrs. Conner conveys the gratifying assurance that the passage from the body was attended by no pain or discomfort, but was much like putting one's arm in a sleeve." Still another experience was as follows: "A private soldier in a Kansas regiment was once taken sick and reluctantly went into a hospital, where he apparently died. His friend, Dr. Chandler, despite the regimental surgeon's ridicule, tried to restore him, and succeeded, after pouring some ammonia through his lips. The soldier stated that all the while Dr. Chandler was working at his body his spirit was seated on the mantelpiece, trying to decide whether to return to the body or take its final departure from it. Noticing how anxious Dr. Chandler seemed, he at last determined to re-enter his body and did so."--Boston Transcript.

JOHN BROWER, Painter and Glazier. DEALER IN Lewis Bros. Pure White Lead, Linseed Oil and Colors. First Quality Hard Oil and Varnishes. Roberts' Fire and Water Proof Paints. Pure Metallic Paints for Tin and Shingle Roofs (and no other should be used where rain water is caught for family use). All brands of Ready Mixed Paints. Window Glass of all kinds and patterns. Reference given. STORE ON ASBURY AVE OCEAN CITY N. J.

C. THOMAS, NO. 108 MARKET STREET, PHILADELPHIA. HEADQUARTERS OF SOUTH JERSEY FOR FINE FAMILY GROCERIES. ALWAYS THE FRESHEST AND BEST TO BE FOUND IN THE MARKET. Full Flavored Teas, Choice Brands of Coffee, Sugars of all Grades, Canned Fruits, Pickles, Spices, Raisins, Dried Beef, Butter and Lard. Hams of Best Quality, Weighed when Purchased by Customers. No Loss in Weight Charged to Purchasers. Stop in and make selections from the best, largest and freshest stock in Philadelphia. Orders by mail promptly attended to and goods delivered free of charge at any railroad or steamboat in the city. LOW PRICES. Satisfaction Gauranteed. [sic]

MARK TWAIN'S DESPERADO. An Old Stage Driver's Account of the Killing of Jules by Slade. "We liked to work for Slade. He knew how to use good men well," said Jack Wells, the stage driver, as he fingered the lines that guided the four horse tram. He had been one of the henchmen of the Slade memorialized by Mark Twain--the man killing Slade, more feared on the plains of the far west than any other man of his day.

Now the old time driver was minded to talk of his old chief as the stage rolled over the Santa Fe trail.

"When you talk of Slade's doings, you must remember that those were tough times that he lived in and tough men he had to deal with. No soft men could have kept things straight as he did when he was superintendent on one or another hard division of Ben Holliday's stage lines across the plains and mountains. There were red Indians and white outlaws to deal with right along, and you had to fight men with their own weapons. Many's the night I've been waked out of my sleep to get up on a stage box with my Henry rifle beside me, not knowing what was waiting along the way in shape of Indians or road agents. Yes, Jim Slade was a good deal of a desperado and did a good bit of killing. I don't think he'd have killed so many if it hadn't been for his wife. She was a high strung Texas woman and was proud to have a husband who was famous among men for his deeds. But Jennie was a kind friend to all the boys who worked for her husband and would tend them in sickness like a mother.

"About that affair with Jules? I suppose that's what gave Slade his reputation more than any other thing. Jules kept a store at the station where Slade made his headquarters. He had a boy that worked for him, and one day Slade sent this boy off to do something or oth-

er, and it made Jules angry, and he used pretty hard words about Slade, damning him up hill and down for not sending some men of his own on his errands. Slade heard of what Jules had been saying and came in to see him about it.

"'You ought not to talk like that about me, Jules,' he said. 'I won't stand it to have a man damning me, and you ought to know it.' "'I'll talk about any man I please,' said Jules. 'I'd like to see the color of the man that I'd be afraid to speak my mind about.'

"Well, that made Slade angry, because he knew it was meant as a slur, he being a very dark complexioned man. Then he slapped Jules' face. When he turned to go out of the door, Jules picked up a gun from behind the counter and shot him in the shoulder. Slade fell terribly wounded, and we all thought he was done for. We carried him into the house, and then one of the hostlers and I arrested Jules and were going to hang him. We'd already got a wagon tongue up and the rope round his neck when the sheriff and some of the other men took him away from us. They get up some kind of a court and jury,

and Jules went acquitted. He didn't stay there for Slade to get well, but went off down the road upon another division and went into business there. Slade came round all right at last, but instead of going after Jules, as people might think he would, he just kept on his division and looked after his stages and stations.

"Jules had some cattle that he had left on the range round the station when he went away, and word came to him that they were being stolen or killed.

At last he heard that Slade was away from the station, and so up he came in company with the sheriff to see about them. I guess Slade had something to do with having the report get to him, because he wasn't away, and he walked in on Jules and the sheriff as they stood in the barroom at the station.

"'Now, Jules,' said he, 'I'm here to have our quarrel out. Pull your pistol

and get to work.'

"Jules refused to draw his gun. Slade asked him once again to do so and then shot him. As Jules lay there dead on the floor Slade said to the sheriff: "'What do the Indians do when they've killed an enemy?' "The sheriff said, 'They scalp 'em and cut their ears off.' "Slade took out his pocket knife and cut Jules' ears off. They say he afterward carried 'em about in his vest pocket. About that I haven't got anything to say."--New York Sun.

A Third Set For Some of Us. A dialogue about heaven took place a few days ago between a member of the Baltimore county bar and a lady 82 years old, who was under examination in an equity case. The lawyer, to test the lady's faith in the hereafter, asked her if she thought we would know each other in heaven. She replied by asking him another question as to where heaven was. His reply was not satisfactory to the old lady, and she told the lawyer that if he wanted to question her about any place he must located it. Then she added:

"Of course we will know each other in heaven, for our bodies will be the same there, except that we will not have any blood in us."

The lawyer next asked her if she thought people would have teeth in heaven. She said she could not answer that definitely, but she thought they would. One thing was certain, she add-ed--people would have teeth in the place allotted to the wicked, and she could prove it by Scripture. "How can you prove it?" said the

lawyer.

"Why," she replied, "the Scripture says the wicked shall be turned into utter darkness, where there shall be weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth, and how could they gnash their teeth if they

did not have any?" The attorney did not proceed any further on that line of examination.--Bal-timore Sun.

Remedy for Chafed Surfaces. An experienced mother recommends the following recipe for an ointment to be applied to chafed surfaces, cuts and chapped hands. Take equal parts of beeswax, measure it, add the same quantity of melted lard and oil and stir constantly until the mixture becomes stiff. Put in a box or wide-mouthed bottle ready for use.--Ladies' Home Journal.

Omaha is named from a tribe of Indians.

Rum and Rumbullion.

In 1639 De Poincy and Sir Thomas Warner, the governors of the French and English quarters of the island of St. Christopher, ordered the entire de-

struction of the tobacco crops on ac-

count of the overproduction having caused a glut in the market. The planters then turned their attention to the production of sugar, which they probably learned from the Dutch trading to

Brazil.

Richard Lygon, who landed at Bar-

badoes in September, 1647, relates in his history of that island how the planters

had commenced sugar making five or six years before his arrival, and that there were many works set up. He describes the distillation of spirits from the skimming of the coppers and says that this the favorite drink of the coloists was called kill devil and was sold to the shipping at the rate of 2s.

6d. per gallon. He never once makes use of the word rum.

Mr. N. Darnell Davis, in his "Cavaliers and Roundheels in Barbados," quotes as follows from a manuscript description of the island, to which he assigns the date 1650: "The chiefe fudling they make on the island is Rumbullion, alias Kill-Devil, and this is made of suggar cane and distilled, a hott, hellish and terrible liquor."--Notes and Queries.

Simply Absentminded.

Probably one of the most humorous cases of absentmindedness occurred in one of the office buildings yesterday afternoon.

For at least half an hour the elevator boy had noticed an old tenant of the

building sitting upon the stairs outside his office. Thinking the man was sick, the boy asked him why he had been sitting there so long.

"Just read that card I tacked upon the door," he said.

The boy did so, and read, "Will return at 8 o'clock." Not understanding, the boy said, "Have you lost your key?" "No, you idiot," roared the man. "Don't you know that it is only 2:30, and I have still another half hour to wait?"--Cincinnati Tribune.

A Historic Pane of Glass. There are several interesting mementos of Lincoln and Booth kept in a small case in the rooms of the judge advocate general at Washington. Among these the most interesting is a common pane of window glass. In August, 1864, the country was startled with the announcement that President Lincoln had been poisoned. [?] day Booth was a guest at the McHenry House at Meadville, Pa. With the diamond of his ring he scratched the following [?] of the glass of his room window: "Abe Lincoln depart of this life August 13, 1863, by the [?] of poison."

After the great tragedy of April 14, 1865, Miss McHenry removed the pane and sent it to be preserved in the collection of relics mentioned.

A Cautious Answer.

"Have you the pleasure of Marjoram's acquaintance?"

"Er--well, not exactly, but I am acquainted with Marjoram. "--New York Recorder.

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.

W. L. DOUGLAS $3 SHOE IS THE BEST. FIT FOR A KING.

$5. CORDOVAN, FRENCH & ENAMELLED CALF. $4. $3.50 FINE CALF & KANGAROO. $3.50 POLICE, 3 SOLES. $2.50 $2. WORKINGMEN'S 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. Over One Million People wear the W. L. Douglas $3 & $4 Shoes

All our shoes are equally satisfactory. They give the best value for the money. They equal custom shoes in style and fit. Their wearing qualities are unsurpassed. The prices are uniform--stamped on sole. From $1 to $3 saved over other makes.

If your dealer cannot supply you we can. Sold by C. A. CAMPBELL.