The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on November 15, 1893 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, November 15, 1893
Page 3
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Romlndod That There Is h*olntlon In Defeat nnd Tlmt Ther* Sorrow That Heaven Cannot cover. OTMffi DES-M01KBS ALGCAA IOWA /WflTMJTflaPAY ....... NOVEMBER HtP nfrtVTVTlTW schoolboy's \J£ UJ3JJI V1UIN, . TAUMAGE PREACHES O&t*EtECTtOiM SERMON. N. Y., Nov. la.—Oblivion Defeats" was the subject of Dr. .age's sermon to-day, lie said: ' livion and Its Defeats" is my sub- day. There is an old monster swallows down everything. It ihes individuals, families, com- india-rubber ball rolls • uutm iv inn, and when our world goes, it is so interlocked by the law of gravi- ' tation with other worlds that they wilt go too, and so far as haying our mem- bry perpetuated by a monument of Aberdeen granite in this world, there is no world in sight of our strongest telescope that will be a sure pediment for aiiy slab of commemoration of the fact that we ever lived or died at all. Our earth is struck with death. The axle-tree of the constellations will break and let down the populations of other worlds. Stellar, lunar, solar mortality. Oblivion! It can swallow and will sxvallow whole galaxies of worlds as easily as a crocodile ta'kes a frog. Yet oblivion does not remove or swal- , low anything that had better not be i removed or swallowed. The old mon- | ster is welcome to his meal. This world | would long- ago have been overcrowded j if not for the merciful removal of nations and generations. What if all the books had lived that were ever written and printed and published. The libraries would by their immensity have obstructed intelligence and made all research impossible. The fatal epidemic of books was a merciful epidemic. Many of the state and national libraries to-day are only morgues, in which dead books are waiting for some one to come and recognixe them. What if all the people that had be( n born were still alive? We would have been elbowed by our ancestors of ten centuries ago, and people who ought to have said their last word three thousand years ago, would snarl at us, saying: "What are you doing here?" There would have been no room to turn around. Some of the past generations of mankind were not worth remembering. The first useful thing that many people did was to die; their cradle a' misfortune and their grave a boon. This world was hardly a comfortable place to live in before the middle of the last century. So many things have come into the world that were not fit to stay in, we ought to be glad they were put out. ' The waters of Lethe,the fountain of forget- fillness, are a healthful .draught. The history of the world in ages past is always one-sided and cannot be depended on. History is fiction illustrated by a few straggling facts. In all the Pantheon the weakest goddess is Clio, the goddess of history, and instead of being represented by sculptors as holding a scroll, might better be represented as limping on crutches. Faithful history is years, of centuries, of ages, of of milleniums, of icons. That is called by Noah Webster and other dictionarians. Oblivion, steep down which everything It is a conflagration in which thing is consumed. It is a dirge ich all orchestras play, and a iod at which everything stops. It ie cemetery of the human race. It ihe domain of forgetfillness. Ob- .6"nl At times it throws a shadow ^Jr all of us, and I would not pro- lOUnce it to-day if I did not come ed in the strength of the Eternal 3d on your behalf to attack it, to iilt it, to demolish it. r'VVhy, -just look at the way the fami- Ig 1 of the earth disappear. For a .e they are together, inseparable, to each other indispensable, and. they part. Some by marriage .g to establish other homes, and leave this life, and a century is , enough to plant a family, develop irospei it, and obliterate it. So the ^rations vanish. AValk up Broad! ay, !New York, State street, Boston, iHestnut street. Philadelphia, the London, Princess street, Edin- •gh, Champs Elysees, Paris, Unter J. Linden, Berlin, and you will meet this year 1803 not one person who Iked' there in the year 1793. What [gulfmeiit! •Allnthe ordinary efforts itfcpeipetuation are dead failures. ws ,lter Scott's "Old Mortality" may go ind with his chisel torecut the faded taphs on tombstones, but Old j.j n[l , ri "blivion has a quicker chisel ° ih which he can cut out a thousand iltaphs while "Old Mortality" is cut- "ng in one epitaph. Whole libraries biographies ^ devoured _ of book- com y s from pomp o f obsequies, or gran- ^orms, oi unread of the rising genera- ons All the signs of the stores and if^arehou&es of great firms have Ichangcd, unless the grandsons think phat it ib an advantage to keep the old "lign up, because the name of the an- "estoi was more commendatory than lie name of the descendant. The city Rome, Italy, stands to-day, but dig lown deep enough and you come to ' dottier Home, buried, and go down |till fui ther and you will find a third "^ ome. Jerusalem stands to-day, but ig down deep enough and you will ind a Jerusalem underneath, and go On and deeper down, a third Jerusalem. Uex.mdi la, Egypt, on the top of an aiidiia, and the second on the pp of the third. ancient cities are Kfeet deep. What er? Any special Many of the buried thirty was the mat- calamity? No. iThe winds and waves and sands and flying dust are all undertakers .and grave-diggers, and if the world •stands long enough, the present Brooklyn and New York and London, will have on top of them other Brooklyns and New Yorks and Londons, and only after digging and boring and blasting will the archaeologist of far distant centuries come down as far as the highest spires and domes and turrets of our present American and European cities Cull the roll of the armies of Baldwin the First, or of Charles Martel, or of Marlbprough, or of Mithri- dates, or of Prince Frederick, or of Cortex, and not one answer will you hear. Stand them in line and call the roll of the one million men in the army of Thebes. Not one answer. Stand them in line, the one million, seven hundred thousand infantry and the two hundred thousand cavalry of the Assyrian army under Nidus, and •call the roll. Not one answer. Stand in line the one million men of Sesostris, the one million two hundred thousand men of Artaxerxes at Cunaxa, the two million six hundred and forty-one thousand men under Xerxes at Thermopy] IB and call the long roll. Not one answer. At the opening of our civil war the men of the northern and southern armies were told that if they foil in battle their names would never be for- g-otten by their country. Out of the million men who fell in battle or died in military hospitals you can not call -the names of a thousand, nor the names of five hundred, nor the names of one hundred, nor the names of fifty. Oblivion! Are the feet of the dancers who were at the ball of tho duchess of Richmond at Brussels the night before Waterloo all still? All still. Are idl the ears that heard the guns of Bunker Hill deaf? All deaf. Are the eyes that saw the coronation of George the Third all closed? All closed. Oblivion! In some old family record a descendant studying up the ancestral line may spell out our name, and from the nearly faded ink, with great effort, find that some person by our name was born somewhere between 1810 and 1890, but they will know no more about us than we know about the color of a child's eyes born last night in a village in Patagonia. Tell me something about your great-grandfather. What were his features? What did he do? SVhat year was he born? What year did he die? And your great-grandmother? Will you describe the style of the hat that she wore, and how did she and your great-grandfather get on in each other's companionship? Was it March weather or June? Oblivion! That mountain surge rolls over everything. Even the pyramids are dying. Not a day passes but there is chiseled off a chip of the granite. 'The sea is triumphing over the land, and what is going on at Coney Island is going on all around the world, and the continents are crumbling into the waves. And while this is transpiring on the outside of the world, the hot chisel of the internal fire is digging under the foundation of the earth and cutting its way out toward the surface. . „ surprises me to hear people say they do not think the world will finally be burned up, when all scientists will tell you that it has for ages been on fire. Why, there ifc> only a crust between us and the furnaces inside raging to get out. Oblivjioa! The world itself will roll into it as fiftsily as a limpi the saving- of a few things out of more things lost. The immortality that ite shaft, or building named after its founder, or page of recognition in some encyclopedia is an immortality unworthy of one's ambition, for it will cease, and is no immortality at all. Oblivion! A hundred years. But while I recognize this universal submergence of things earthly, who wants to be forgotten? Not one of us. Absent for a few weeks or months from home, it cheers us to know that we are remembered there. It is a phrase we have all pronounced: "I hope you missed me." Meeting some friends with whom we have been parted many years, we inquire: "Did you ever see me before?" and they say: "Yes," and call us by name, and we feel a delightful sensation thrilling through their hand into our hand, and running up from elbow to shoulder, and then parting, the one current of delight ascending to the brow and the other descending to the foot, moving round and round in concentric circles until every nerve and muscle and capacity of body and mind and soul is permeated with delight. A few days ago, visiting the place of my boyhood, 1 met one whom I had not seer since we played together at 10 years oi age, and I 'had peculiar pleasure in puzzling him a little as to who I was, and I can hardly describe the sensation, as, after awhile, he stumbled out "Let me see. Yes, you are DeWitt.' We all like to bo remembered. Now, I have to tell you that this oblivion of which I have spoken has itf defeats, and that there is no more reason why we should not be distinctly and vividly and gloriously rememberec five hundred million billion trillion quadrillion quintillion years from now than that we should be rememberec six weeks. I am going to tell you ho\\ the thing can be done and will be done. We may build this "everlasting- re menibrance," as my text styles it', into the supernal existence of those to whom wo do kindnesses in this world You must remember that this infirm and treacherous faculty which we call memory is in the future state tc be complete and perfect, "Everlasting remembrance!" Nothing- will slip the grip of that celestial faculty. Did yoi, help a widow pay her rent? Did yoi find for that man released from prisor a place to get honest work? Did you pick up a child, fallen on the curb stone, and, by a stick of candy put ii his hand, stop the hurt of his scratched knee? Did you assure a business man swamped by the stringency of the money market, that times would aftei a while be better? Did you lead i Magdalen of the street into a midnigh mission, where the Lord said to her "Neither do I condemn thee. Go, am sin no more?" Did you tell a man clear discouraged in his waywardness and hopeless and plotting- suicide, tha for him was nearby a laver, in whicl he might wash, and a coronet of eter nal blessedness he might wear? Wha are epitaphs in graveyards, what are eulogiums in presence of those whose breath is in their nostrils, what are unread biographies in the alcoves of a city library compared with the imper ishable records you have made in the illumined memories of those to whon you did such kindnesses? Forget them They can not forget them. Notwith standing all their might and splendor there tare some things the glorified o: heaven can not do, and this is one o: them. They cannot forget an earthly kindness done. They have no cutlass to part that cable. They have no strength to hurl into oblivion that benefaction. Has Paul forgotten tb inhabitants of Malta, who extendec the island hospitality when he anc others with him had felt, added to shipwreck, the drenching rain anc the sharp cold? Has the vie tim of the highwayman on the road to Jericho forgotten the Gooc Samaritan with a medicament of oi and wine and a free ride to the hostel ry? Have the English soldiers who went up to God from the Crimean bat tlefields forgotten Florence Nightin gale? Through all eternity, will the, northern an'd southern soldiers forge the northern and southern women who administered to the dying boys in blue and gray after the awful fights iu Ten scribes that ever took pen could describe by as many n.rfwfes as thw Could write in all' the centuries of ; 11 time, but thou shalt have no power \<0 efface from any soul in glory the meni* ory of anything we have clone to bring it to God and heaven. There is another and more complete defeat for Oblivion, and that is iu the heart of God himself. You h-.vve soon a Sailor roll up his sleeve and show you his arm tattooed with the figure of a favorite ship, perhaps the. first one in which he ever sailed. You have seen a soldier roll up his sleeve and show you his arm tattooed with the figure of a fortress where he was garrisoned or the face of a great general under whom he fought. You have seen a hand tattooed with the face of a loved one before or after marriage. This tattooing is almost as old as the world. It is some colored liquid punctured into the flesh so indelibly that nothing can wash it out. It may have been there fifty years, but wl'ei the . »man goes into his coffin that picture will go with him on hand or arm. Now, God says that he has tattooed usupoi^his hands. There can be no other meaning in the Forty-ninth chapter of Isaiah, where God says: "Behold, I have graven thee on the palms of my hands." It was as much as to say, "1 can not open my hand to help, but I think of you. I can not spread abroad my hands to bless, but I think of you. AVhercvev I go up and down tho heavens I take these two pictures of you with me. They arc so inwrought into my being that I can not lose them. As long as my hands hist, the memory of you will last. Not on the back of my hands, as thought to announce you to others, but on tho palms of my hands for myself to look at and study and love, ' Not on the palm of one hand alone, but on the palms of both' hands, for while 1 am looking upon one hand and thinking of you, I must have the other hand free to protect you, free to strike back your enemy, free to lift you if you fall. Palms of my hands indelibly tattooed. And though I hold tho winds in my fist, no cyclone shall uproot the inspitraion of your name and your face, and though i hold the ocean \n tho hollow of my hand, its billowing shall not -wash out the record of my remembrance. 'Behold I have graven thee on the palms of my hands.'" What joy, what honor can be comparable to that of being remembered by the mightiest and kindest and loveliest and ten'derest and most affectionate being in the universe. Think of it, to hold an everlasting place in the heart of God. The heart of Gccl! The most beautiful palace in the universe. Let the archangel build some palace as grand as that if he can. Let him crumble up all the stars of yester- night and to-morrow night, and put them together as mosaics for such a palace floor. Let him take all tho sunrises and sunsets of all the days, and the auroras of all tho nights, and hang them as upholstery at its windows. Let him take all the rivers and all the lakes and all the oceans, and toss them into tho fountains of this palace court. Let him take all the gold of all the hills and hang it in its chandeliers, and all the pearls of all the seas and all the diamonds of ail the Holds, and with them arch the doorways of that palace: and then invite into it all the glories that Esther ever saw at- a Persian banquet, or Daniel ever walked amongst in Babylonian castles, or Joseph ever witnessed in Pharaoh's and then yourself castle of urchaiigolic and see how poor a compared with the greater palace that some of you have already found in the heart of a loving and pardoning God, and into which all tho music and all the prayers and all the sermoiiic considerations of thin day are trying to introduce you through the blood of tho slain lamb. Oh, where is Oblivion now? From utterance will be, "Not unto us, not j tho dark and overshadowing word that unto us, but unto thy name, O, Lord, I it seemed when I began, it has become give glory!" you shall always feel a heavenly satisfaction in every good thing you did on earth, and if icono- fear. clasm, born from beneath, should break I dead. through the gates of heaven and efface one record of your earthly fidelity, methinks Christ would take one of the nails of his own cross and write somewhere on the crystal or the amethyst or the jacinth or the chrysopra- su's your name, and just under it the inscription of my text: "The righteous shall be held in everlasting remembrance." Oh, this character building! You and I arc every moment busy in that tremendous occupation. You are making me better or worse, and I am making you better or worse, and we shall, through all eternity, bear the mark of this benediction or blasting. Let others have tho thrones of heaven, those who have more mightily wrought for God and the truth, but it will be heaven enough for you and me if ever and anon we meet some radiant soul on the. boulevards of the great city who shall say: "You helped me once. You encouraged me when I was in earthly struggle. I do not know that I would have reached the shining place had it not been for you," and we will laugh with heavenly glee, and say, "Ha! ha! Do you really remember that talk? Do you remember that warning? Do yon remember that Christian invitation? What a memory you have! Why, that must have been down there in Brooklyn or New Orleans at least ten thousand million years ago." And the answer will be, "Yes, it was as long as that, but 1 remember it as well as though it were yesterday." Oh, this charac- and barn,and shed into a hospital and incarnadined the Susquchanna'and the .James and the Chattahoochee and the Savannah with brave blood? The kindnesses you dp to others will stand as long in the appreciation of others as the gates of heaven will stand, as the "House of Many Mansions" will stand, 'as lorig as the throne of God will stand. Another defeat of oblivion will be found in the character Of those whom we rescue, uplift or save. Character is eternal. Suppose by a right influence we aid in transforming a bad man into a tj-ood man, a dolorous man into a happy man, a disheartened man into a Courageous man, every stroke of that vork done will be immortalized. There nay never be. so much as one line in a lewspaper regarding it, or no mortal ongue may ever whisper it into human mr, but wherever that soul shall go, our work upon it shall go, wherever hat soul rises, you work on it will rise, ind so long as that soul will last, your vork on it will last. Do you suppose there will ever come such n idiotic lapse in the history of Jiat soul in heaven that it shall forget that you invited him to 3hrist, that you, by prayer or gospel vord, turned him round from the wrong vay to the right way? No such in- ianity will ever smite a heavenly citizen. ' It is not half as well on earth mown that Christopher Wren planned ind built St. Paul's, as it will be known n all heaven that you were the instru- nentality of building a temple for the sky. We teacli a Sabbath class, or put 'Christian tract in the hand of a passer-by, or testify for Christ in a prayer-meeting, or preach a sermon, )r go home discouraged, as though nothing had been accomplished, when we had been character building with a material that no frost or earthquake or rolling of the centuries can damage or bring down. There is no sublimer art on earth than architecture. Wi th pencil und rule and compass, the architect sits down alone and in silence, and evolves from his own brain a cathedral or a na- bional capitol or a massive home before lie leaves that table, and then he goes out and unrolls his plans, and calls carpenters and masons and artisans of all sorts to execute his design, and when it is finished he walks around the vast structure, and sees the completion of the work with high satisfaction, and on a stone at some corner of the building the architect's name may be chiseled. But the storms do their work, and time, that takes down everything, will yet take down that structure, until there shall not be one stone left upon another. But there is a soul in heaven. Throug-h your instrumentality it was put there. Under God's grace - you are the architect of its eternal happiness. Your name is written, not on < one corner of its nature, but inwrought into its every fibre and energy. Will the storms of winter wash out the story of what you have wrought upon that spiritual structure? No. There are no storms in that land and there is no winter. Will time wear out the inscription which shows your fidelity? No. Time is past and is an Everlasting Now. Built into the foundation of that imperishable structure, built into its pillars, built into its capstone, is your name, either the name you have on earth or the name by which celestials shall call you. 1 know the bible says in one place that God is a jealous God, but that refers to the work of those who worship some other god. A true father is not jealous of his child. With what glee you show the picture your child penciled, or a toy ship your child hewed out, or recite the deed your child accomplished, and God never was jealous of a Joshua, never was jealous of a Paul, never was jealous of a Frances liavergal, never was jealous of a man or woman who tried to heal wounds and wipe away tears and lift burdens and save souls, and while all is of grace, and your self-abnegating WEttE HIM &OLLEBS throne-room, enter this construction palace it is LED A GAY LIFE CM OOOD9. STOLEN ter building! The structure lasting independent of passing centures, independent of crumbling mausoleums, independent of the whole planetary system. Aye, if the material universe, which seems all bound together like one piece of machinery, should some day meet with an accident that should scud worlds crashing into each other like telescoped railway trains, and all the wheels of constellations and galaxies should stop, and down into one something which no man or woman or child who loves tho Lord need ever Oblivion defeated. Oblivion Oblivion sepulchred. But I must not be so hard on that devouring monster, for into its grave go all our sins when the Lord for Christ's sake lias forgiven them. Just blow a resurrection trumpet over them when once oblivion has snapped them down. Not one of them rises. Blow again. Not a stir amid all tho pardoned iniquities of a. life-time. Blow again! Not one of them moves in tho deep grave trendies. But to this powerless resurrection trumpet a voice responds half human, half divine, and it must be part man and part tiod saying: "Their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more." Thank God for this blessed Oblivion! So you see I did not invite you down into a cellar, but up on a throne, not into tho graveyard to which all materialism is destined, but into a garden all u-bloorn with everlasting remembrance, The frown of my first text has become the kiss of the second text. Annihilation has become coronation, The wringing hands of a great agony have become the clapping hands of a great joy. The requiem with which we begun has become the grand inarch with which wo close. The tear of sudnesfe that rolled down our cheek has .struck the lip on which sits the laughter of eternal triumph. ____^ DAUGHTER.? OF EVE. Practical dress reform—Pay cash for your clothes. Defaced kid boots will be greatly improved by being rubbed with a mixture of cream and ink. A gentleman must kiss every lady he is introduced to iu Paraguay. It is the custom of the country. A woman can secure all her garments with two or three pins, but it takes about thirty hair-pins to keep up her hair. Mile. Aime Rapia of Geneva, Switz- How A Qunrtott of Htlnnenirolls , ( Stolo Sr>O,OOO from ft Bunk Btid J'lanned Some Other Swindles oi Maiamoutli Proportion*. chasm of immensity all the suns and i erlund, an armless artist, has executed moons and stars should tumble like the midnight express at Ashtabula, that would not touch us, and would not hurt God, for God is a spirit, and character and memory are immortal, and over that grave of a wrecked material universe might truthfully be written: "The righteous shall beheld in everlasting remembrance." Oh, Time, we defy thee! Oh, Death, we ! stamp thee in-the dust of thine o\yn j sepulchres! Oh, Eternity, roll on till i the last star has stopped rotating and the last s-un is extinguished on tho sapphire pathway, wd the last moon 1 *•*,•,•! 1 J A-U™ 1,,'^i — S V4. n ir*A nr* tllfl NEW YOHK, Nov. 11.—The arrest in this city of Louis Floyd of Minneapolis on Wednesday by two of Inspector McLaughlin's meii, charged with being i party to the $90,000 robbery from the bank of Minneapolis on Sept. 2, Will probably bring to a close the knavish career of one of the three parties in the act. The two others charged with robbery, I'll 11 M. Sheig and Frank Floyd, a brother of the man now under arrest here, are on board the steamer Spree, bound for Southampton. They will be arrested on their arrival and brought back to this city. When arraigned before Justice Meade nt the Tombs police court yesterday ' !"yd made a full confession and gave Ip.'m-miition as to the whereabouts of hiw brother and Scheig. The three youn/- r-.ion have hud careers that do wot often fall to the lot of men when young. Up to the time the father of the Floyd boys died their lives had been uneventful. At his death they received a fortune of $70,000, which they managed to spend within nine months, besides spending the greater portion of $30,000, which was left to Mrs. Floyd. No sooner was the father buried than the young men became men aboiitt town in the full sense of the word. Their first move was to furnish an apartment in gorgeous style, and about that time tlwy met Phil Scheig, who was then employed as paying teller in the Bank of Minneapolis. Scheig possessed horses and lived like a man enjoying an income of $25,000 a year, and his habits created considerable talk. The three men became fast friends. About this time a young nan whom they knew became possesed of a fortune of nearly $1,000,000. This was Frank Byers, then about 19 years old. Most of his money was held by the Bank of Minneapolis in trust, and of course Seheig was in a position to know all about his financial condition. In addition to what money the bank held in trust Byers had un open account, which he drew agaist. lie, too, was taken up by the Floyd brothers and for a time the quartet lived at the Floyd apartments. The four had a box at the theater almost nightly, and by their lavish display of jewelry and money made many friends among both sexes. However, some one of the quartet was almost always in trouble, but influence and the money that thay could command always served to quiet anything' of an unpleasant nature. By persons in a position to know it is stated that one of the Floyds, after going through his own fortune, signed young Byers' name to checks, and that Scheig ,.s paying teller would pass the signature as correct. It ia thought that in this way Byers was mulcted to a considerable amount. When the ft'JO.OOO loss was first discovered it was thought to cover everything, but subsequent events and admissions made by Louis Floyd go to show that a scheme to defraud English banks was about to be worked. Kcheig, it is alleged, before ho loft the bank tore out several drafts and put the certification stamp upon them, marking the stubs void. Tt was then intended to have Frank Floyd fill in the cashier's name. Scheig had carried a lot of the bank's letter heads, and being familial* with the secret cipher used for identification purposes with the Great Britain correspondent it would bo an ensy matter to have several drafts cashed before the fraud became known. Another method of securing funds was to have Frank Floyd, who possessed a largo amount of personal magnetism, visit the neighboring cities and make friends with swell young men. Ho conid tell tales of the grand times they had in their apartments and invite everybody to visit them. When any one did come, anil not a few took advantage of the invitation, they would bo introduced to a g;ime oi' poker, where marked cards, mirrors and every other device known to swindlers at play would be used. In this way they managed to make considerable money. Scheig, the principal in the robbery, is the son of a prominent man in Minneapolis. A few years ago he gained considerable notoriety through his secret marriage to Miss Louiso Barge, the youngest daughter of Millionaire Barge of Minneapolis, and again by his being "plucked" for several thousand dollars by gamblers while playing a game of cards. His loss soon became public talk, and it was thought that the affair would end his career with the bank, but it did not. with her feet a portrait of the duchess of York. She was, presumably, a young and inexperienced housekeeper who, on the occasion of company for dinner, had the'olives boiled. He—Why do you wear the ring if it is too small and hurts your finger? She—Oh, it's my wedding-ring-, and belps me to remember. Old Bachelor—Pon't care to raurry, Miss Smith, eh,? Prefer tq keep your iifr^itty? MJ&s SioitJ3" w NQ$*§$&fc^fi i if*^ TELLER'S CRITICISM. Says but HC;\«l-Qii,\rters nt Which Gentry Xlftlitly Congretfnte. tinco-inroy life I consorted with professional clog thieves. 1 wish It to ba distinctly understood that If never stole a dog, although I am free 1 to confess that 1 have be&ii temptedr and 1 have told the story of ho* 6tt one occasion a dog stole ibo-. But td return to my thieves. In the north* ern part oi London, whi6h you Will reach by passing through* Fefctei." ahd Leather lanes,, continuing' past the quaint Italian* quarter with lt» cathedral, the interior of which iff beauti ful, although, the building is- but crude externally, you will finxJ your* self in close proximity to; the ren-* dezvous of the' London doe thieve* Near by is a place called Hock-ings- iri-tho-Hole. It is well named*, being situated in a decided* hollow iti> one of the- worst quarters of the great city. Those-. in search of* a fine, creepy, fooling should visit it after nightfall' ab I didi I then found* myself in the bar of a small, old-stylo public house- of very doubtful character, or perhaps 1 should express' myself better if 1 say that its character was not. at all doubtful. I was eyed curiously by the loungers as I* took some refreshment at the bar. I then quietly gave the countersign' in accordance with the instructions with which* I had armed myself. The powerful and heavy-necked publican changed his demeanor at once and ushered mo- through a side door and up a-. creaky; tortuous and dark staircase. At this* creepy fooling was at its best — or- worst. . A door opened and wo entered a long room, the ceiling of which was very low. Yellow gwsgets- Illokered. here and there. A curious sight met my gaze. The 1 room was full of men, three-fourths of whom hold dogs of every degree; The men were mostly of an uncouth; description, clothed in great part im corduroy, surmounted with the conventional caps that urn worn by the* London costcrmonger. They re so rallied in general .appearance the touts and welchers of the luigllsh racetracks. Most of them smoked short pipea, The dogs yelped and whined the general hum of conversation that came through the arnbor haze. My appearance excited', no comment, and for this reason: It is- quite a common thing for "swells . with sporting blood in them" to drop' in upon those gentry and pick up a. good dog at a nominal price. The- morality of the proceeding is very questionable, but the fact remains. Gin, the favorite drink with the low class in London, was brought in a jug and served in small wine glasses. I accepted the hospitality of my friends, the thieves, as I saw at once that it was expected. Then I conversed with various members of tho party concerning the points of the canines in their possession. Th6y took my presence there as a matter of course, and talked with perfect candor. Had I been able to forgot the company I was in I might truthfully record that I spent a pleasant half hour at Hocking-s-in-tho-Hole. These men are not all thieves, says Donahoo's Magazine. Some of them are dog brokers, who soil dogs for others or pick up a bargain to sell agnin. None of them openly admit that they are professional thieves, although, of course, it is understood perfectly. They "find" lost dogs or else they are commissioned to sell a dog that belongs to a "friend." Not a small part of thoir income is obtained through . receiving rewards offered for lost dogs which they have been fortunate enough to "find." During my visit to them their demeanor was perfect. They might-, have boon an assemblage of farmers at a cattle show. FUN IN FRAGMENTS. your hus* "I would, Mr. Cleveland In the HOBS, Doutm't If.uow Anything. DENVEU, Colo., Nov. 11. — Senator Teller, who arrived here yesterday, predicts tho ultimate success of the silver cause, scores the eastern press owned by banks and trust companies, sees nothing bright in the immediate future, and of the tariff says: "We know kuothing about the tariff plans in the senate. There may be some legislation next winter or these recent elections may scare them off. Of course nothing would change Cleveland. If he knew anything about the tariff he would prepare a bill, carry it to the house and tell them to pass it. lie's boss and has no idea of limitations to it. But the trouble is he doesn't know anything about the tariff, and that is where tho conirnitteu has got him." Chinese will Register. WASHINGTON,Nov. 11.—Commissioner Miller of the internal revenue bureau is amending treasury department regulations for the registration of China- men in accordance with the recent act of congress extending the time of registration, for six months. The department has tiu unexpended balance of about §200, which cau bo utilized, in putting the new legislation into opera,- ution, This will be sufficient for a month or BO. It is generally understood that the Chinese, »s> a whole, *,y jU register, and that alter wx mouths to produce* a'cev- deported- "What would you do if band should join a club?" buy one. " Daughter — Mamma, what is a par- 'I'enue? Mamma — Ileally, daughter, I don't know; it's something or other, though, that never had a grandmother. '•You have done _ very nicely;' 1 said the traveler to the Pullman car porter. "Yes Bah!" "And I now propose to. give you a tip— "Thank you. sail." "On the races." Cool-Headed Citizen — What are yoUi running fur? The dog is going: in the- opposite direction. Fleeing Citizen, bare-headed and frantic — A policeman, is shooting at it. "I guess tho doctors have given. him: up." "Who-t's the matter?." "Too- much of the world's fair. " ' "I thought b* didn't go?" "That's it, he'& listi'n to people- tell about it," Professor — I hope, sir, you. have fol* lowed my advice and are trying to.injr prove your mind during vacation, Studonit — Yes,, sir, I have flirted' only with Boston, girls this summer, Mr. IT:— Jones will hardly, speaht to mi? these days. Ho puts 011 airs, since lie's gone into wholesale aorjfiecttous. Awfully stuck up. Mrs, 'JJ., saoraJally — What's he- stuck up with?- Candy? "•What has become of that young Mn; Browev whom Florence disliked so heart ly?" "He's here- still an4 she's, very foadi of him" "He must have changed greatly." "ite has;, he's de- yotiug himself to an,<a her girl.," "How; did yon get along with your patient, Mulkins?" asked paa doctor of another. "VYa'i-e bjth oa the rpad to recovery'. " "I don't Quite understand." "He is. able to be about, and I have had to, go to la,w about my She — You know, Peggie, that girls, are being called by the »ai»es of flowers now, and my sister suggested that I should be called Thistle. Itoggie —Oh, yes, I see; because you aye so sharp, She— oh, no; she said ^ wa.% a. Donkey loved cue, >„.,-*:! *•*,.-, J

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