The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on November 15, 1893 · Page 5
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 5

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Algona, Iowa
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Wednesday, November 15, 1893
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^J'*.S.^V_^^^^ PLEKTY Otf OBLIVION, DR. TALM/VOE PREACHES f»OSt-ELECttON SERMON. Defeated Kotnlndmt Tlmt There Is Consolation In Defeat arid Tlmt Tlier* 18 'Sjfo Sorrow that UeAven Cannot -Recover. india-rubber ball rolls I down a Kill, and when our world goes, it is so interlocked by the law of gravi- .' tation with other worlds that they Will go too, and so far as having our memory perpetuated by a monument of Aberdeen granite in this world, there is no world in sight of oitr strongest telescope that will be a sure pediment for any 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 swallow whole galaxies of worlds as easily as a crocodile ta'kes a frog. Yet oblivion docs not remove or swallow anything that had better not be removed or swallowed. The old monster is welcome to his meal. This world would long ago have been overcrowded if not for the merciful removal of na- UnooKT.YN, N. Y., Nov. 12.—-Oblivion •and its Defeats" was the subject of Dr. Talmage's sermon to-day. He said: "Oblivion and Its Defeats" ismy subject to-day i There is an old monster that swallows down everything. It crunches individuals, families, communities, states, nations, continents, j hemispheres, worlds. Its diet is made -. up of years, of centuries, of ages, of ! cycles, of milleniums of rcons That j { fl generations. What if all the monster is called by ISoah Webster and , 1ionks liaf f livRtl that were evel . writ ten all the other dictionanans, Oblivion. It is a steep down which everything rolls. It is a conflagration in which everything is consumed. It is a dirge in which all orchestras play, and a period at which everything stops. It is the cemetery of the human race. It is the domain of forgetfulness. Oblivion! At times it throws a shadow over all of us, and I would not pronounce it to-day if 'I did not come armed in the strength of the Eternal DM- MOIK18 ALGOfrA IOWA .W God on your behalf rout it, to demolish it. to attack it, to 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 recognize them. What if all the people that had bee n born were still alive? We would have been elbowed by our ancestors of ten centuries ago, and , I people who ought to have said their last --.,-:,-' -.- -------- . I word three thousand years ago, would Why, just look at the way the f ami- sn . u-1 a( . sayi ,,fy hat arc do . lies of the earth disappear. Lor a . hcre? » There wcmld have bcen no while they are together, inseparable, and, to each other indispensable, and, then they part. Some by marriage going to 'establish other homes, and some leave this life, and a century is long enough to plant a family, develop it, prosper it. and obliterate it. So the generations vanish. Walk up Broadway. New York, State street, Boston, Chestnut street. Philadelphia, the Strand, London, Princess street, Edinburgh, Champs Elysees, Paris, Unter den Linden, Berlin, and you will meet in this year 1893 not one person who walked there in the year 1793. What engulfment! Allothc ordinary efforts at perpetuation are dead failures. Walter Scott's "Old Mortality" may go ing 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 wore not fit to stay in, we ought to be glad they were put out. The •waters of Lethe, the fountain of forgetfulness, 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 ., i ,1 J! T 3 LILCl^Ll Uilt \v UIUV^-OU gwn-t-^oo *u ^*iv; u round with his chisel torecut the faded I ,,. oddess of history, and instead of be- cpitaphs on tombstones, but Old | imr repl . esen t e d by sculptors as holding Oblivion has a quicker chisel a ^ ro ^ might better bo represented as with which he can cut out a thousand epitaphs while "Old Mortality" is cutting in one epitaph. Whole libraries of biographies devoured_ of bookworms, or unread of the rising generations. All the signs of the stores and warehouses of great firms have changed, unless the grandsons think that it is an advantage to keep tho old sign up, because the name of the ancestor was more commendatory than the name of the descendant. Tho city of Rome, Italy, stands to-day, but dig down deep enough and you come to another Rome, buried, and go down still further and you will find a third Rome. Jerusalem stands to-day, but dig down deep enough and yon will find a Jerusalem underneath, and go •on and deeper down,a third Jerusalem. Alexandria, Egypt, on the top of an Alexandria, and the second on tho top of. the third. Many of the ancient cities are buried thirty feet deep. What was the matter? Any special calamity? No. The 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 archteologist of far distant centuries come down as far as the highest spires and domes and turrets of our present American and European cities. Call the roll of the armies of Baldwin the First, or of Charles Martel, or of Marlbprough, or of Mithri- datos, 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, tho 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 Sosostris, tho one million two hundred thousand men of Artaxerxes at Cunaxa, the two million six hundred and forty-one thou,-sand men under Xerxes at Thermopylua and call tho 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 thoir names would never be forgotten by thoir country. Out of the million men who foil 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 tho dancers who were at the ball of the duchess of Richmond at Brussels the night before Waterloo all still? All still. Are aril 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 sonic old family record a descendant studying up the ancestral line may spell out our name, and from the jiearly faded ink, with great effort, find that some person by our name was born somewhere between ISlOand 18UO, 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? What 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. , u 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 is only a crust between us and the furnaces insi.de raging to get out. Oblivion! The world itself will roll into.'if as easily p a migh limping on crutches. Faithful history is the saving of a few things out of more things lost. The immortality that comes from pomp of obsequies, or granite 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 ns 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 mo 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 cur rent 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 anc soul is permeated with delight. A few days ago, visiting the place of my boy hood, 1 met one whom I had not scei since we played together at 10 years p: ago, and I had peculiar pleasure in puzzling him a little as to who I was and I can hardly describe the sensa tion, as, after awhile, ho stumbled out "Let me see. Yes, you are DeWitt.' We all like to be remembered. Now, I have to tell you that this ob livion of which I have spoken has its- defeats, and that there is no more reason why we should not be distinct! and vividly and gloriously rememberec five hundred million billion trillion quadrillion quintillion years from now than that wo should be rememberec six weeks. I am going to tell yon how the thing can be done and will be done We may build this "everlasting re membrance," as my text styles it; intc the supernal existence of those tr whom we do kindnesses in this world You must remember that this iiitirir and treacherous faculty which we now call memory is in the future state t bo complete and perfect. "Everlasting remembrance!" Nothing will slip th grip of that celestial faculty. Did yoi help a widow pay her rent? Did you find for that man released from prisor a place to get honest work? Did yoi pick up a child, fallen oil tho curb stone, and, by a stick of candy put it his hand, stop the hurt of his scratchet knee? Did you assure a business man swamped by the stringency of tin money market, that times would afto 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. tio, an 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 whici he might wash, and a coronet of eter nal blessedness he might wear? \Vha are epitaphs in graveyards, what ar eulogiums in presence of those whos breath is in their nostrils, what ar unread biographies in the alcoves of city library compared with the impel ishable records you have made in th illumined memories of those to wbon you did such kindnesses? Forget them They can not forget them. Notwith standing all their might and splendoi there .are some things tho glorified o heaven can not do, and this is one o them. They cannot forget an earthlj kindness done. They have no cutlas to part that cable. They have n strength to hurl into oblivion tha benefaction. Has Paul forgotten th inhabitants of Malta, who extende the island hospitality when he an others with him had felt, added to shipwreck, the drenching rain an the sharp cold? Has the vie tim of the highwayman on th road to Jericho forgotten the Goot Samaritan with a medicament of o: and wine and a free ride to tho hoste! ry? Have the English soldiers wh went up to God from the Crimean bat tlefields forgotten Florence Nightin gale? Through all eternity, will th northern an'd southern soldiers forgo the northern and southern women wh administered to the dying boys in blu and gray after the awful fights in Ten iiessee and Pennsylvania, and Virgin and Georgia, which turned every hous and barn,and shed into a hospital and incarnadined the Susquchanna'nnd the James and the Chattahoochee and the Savannah with brave blood? The kindnesses you do 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 good man, a dolorous man into a happy man, a disheartened man into a ourageous man, every stroke of that ork clone will be immortalized. There nay never be so much as one line in a ewspapcr regarding it, or no mortal ongue may ever whisper it into human ar, but wherever that soul shall go, our work upon it shall go, wherever hat soul rises, yon work on it will rise, nd so long as that sotil will last, your vork on it will last. Do you sup- iose there will ever come such n idiotic lapse in the history of hat soul in heaven that it hall forget that you invited him to Hirist, that you, by prayer or gospel vorcl,turned him round from the wrong vny to the right way? No such inanity will ever smite a heavenly citi- en. ' It is not half as well on earth cnown that Christopher Wren planned ,nd built St. Paul's, as it will be known n all heaven that you were the instrumentality of building a temple for the iky. We teach a Sabbath class, or put k 'Christian tract in the hand of a passer-by, or testify for Christ in a >raycr-meeting, or preach a sermon, jr g'o home discouraged, as though nothing had been accomplished, when ve hacl been character building with a naterial that no frost or earthquake or •oiling of the centuries can damage or n-ing down. There is no sublimer art on earth than architecture. With pencil md rule and compass, the architect sits lown alone and in silence, and evolves Tom his own brain a cathedral or a national capital or a massive home before le leaves that table, and then ho goes out and unrolls his plans, and calls arpenters and masons and artisans of ill 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, md on a stone at some corner of the building the architect's name may be :hiselcd. 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. Through your instrumentality it was put there. Under God's race you arc 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 tho storms of winter wash out the story of what yon 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, btiilt 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 yon. 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 tho deed your child accomplished, and God never was jealous of a Joshua, never was jealous of a Paul, never was jealous of a Francos Havorgal, 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 utterance will bo, "Not unto us, not unto us, but unto thy name, O, Lord, give glory!" you shall always feel a heavenly satisfaction in every good thing you did on earth, and if iconoclasm, born from beneath, should break 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 tho jacinth or tho chrysopra- suk 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 are every moment busy in that tremendous occupation. You are making mo better or worse, and I am making you better or worse, and wo shall, through all eternity, bear tho mark of this benediction or blasting. Let others have the thrones of heaven, those who have more mightily wrought for God and tho 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 onco. 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 gloe, and say, "Ha! ha! Do you really remember that talk? Do you remember that warning? Do you remember scribes that ever took pen could describe by as many figures as tlipv could write in all' the Centuries of ; H time, but thou shalt have no power \o efface from any soul in glory the mem* ory of anything we have done to bring 1 it to God and heaven. There is another and more complete defeat for Oblivion, and that is in the heart of God himself. Yon h;ive so .MI a sailor roll up his sleeve and show you his arm tattooed with the figure of a favorite ship, perhaps tho first one in which he ever sailed. Yon have seen a soldier roll up his sleeve and show you his arm tattooed with the figure of n fortress where he was garrisoned or the face of a great general under whom lie fought. You have seen a hand tattooed with the f ace 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 wV e i the una.n goes into his coffin that picture will go with him on hand or arm. Now, God says that he has tattooed us upon his hands. There can be no other meaning in the Forty-ninth chapter of Isaiah, where God says: "Behold, I have graven theo on the palms of my hands." It was as much as to say, "I 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. Wherever I go up and down the heavens I take those two pictures of you with me. They are so inwrought into my being that I can not lose them. As long as my hands last, the memory of you will last. Not on the back of my hands, as thought to announce you to others, but on the palms of my hands for myself to look at and study and love. Not on tho palm of one hand alone, but on the palms of both hands, for while I 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 rny 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 'in tho hollow of my hand, its billowing shall not 'wash out tho record of my remembrance. 'Behold I have graven thee on the palms of my hands.'" What joy, what honor can bo comparable! to that of being remembered by tho mightiest and kindest and loveliest and tendcrust and most affectionate being in the universe. Think of it, to hold an everlasting place in the heart of God. The heart of God! Tho most beautiful palace in the universe. Let tho archangel build some palace as grand as that if ho can. Let him crumble tip all tho stars of yester- night and to-morrow night, and put them together as mosaics for such a palace floor. Let him take all the sunrises and sunsets of all tho days, and the auroras of all tho nights, and hang them as upholstery at its windows. Let him take all the rivers and all tho 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 tho pearls of all tho seas and all tho diamonds of all tho Holds, and with them arch tho doorways of that paliico: 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 over witnessed in Pharaoh's throne-room, and then yourself' enter this castle of arc'hangclic construction and seo how poor a palace it is compared with the greater palace that some of yon have already found in the heart of a loving and pardoning God, and into which all the music and all the prayers and all the sermonic considerations of this day aro trying to introduce you through the blood of the slain lamb. Oh, where is Oblivion now? From the dark and overshadowing word that it seemed when I began, it has become something which no man or woman or child who loves the Lord need over fear. Oblivion defeated. Oblivion dead. Oblivion sepulchred. But I must not be so hard oil that devouring monster, for into its grave all our sins whon tho Lord WE&E HIGH LED A GAY LIFE ON aobba STOLEN How ft Quaftett of Minneapolis tttoact* Stole 800,000 from tt lianlt «n<l Planned Sonio Other Swindles e* niAinmoutU Proportions. that Christian invitation? What a j memory you have! Why, that must have been down there in Brooklyn or , Now Orleans at least ten thousand | million years ago." And tho answer will be, "Yes, it was as long as that, but 1 remember it as well as though it were yesterday." Oh, this character 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 send worlds crashing into each other like telescoped railway trains, and all the wheels of constellations and galaxies should stop, and down into one go for Christ's sake has forgiven them. Just blow a resurrection trumpet over thorn 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 trenches. But to this powerless resurrection trumpet a voice responds half human, half divine, and it must bo part man and part C!od saying: "Their sins and thoir iniquities will I remember no more." Thank Uod for this blessed Oblivion! So you see I did not invite you down into a collar, but up on a throne, not into tho graveyard to which all materialism is destined, but into a garden all a-bloom with over- lasting remembrance, The frown of my first text has become the kiss of the second text. Annihilation has bo- come coronation, The wringing hands of a great agony have become the clapping hands of a great joy. Tho requiem with which we begun has become the grand march with which we close. Tho tear of sadness that rolled down our cheek has struck the lip on which sits the laughter of eternal triumph. DAUGHTERS OF EVE, NEW Yottft, Nov. 11.—The arrest in this city of Louis Floyd of Minneapolis on Wednesday by two of Inspector McLaughlin's men, charged with being a, 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, Phil M. Sheig and Frank Floyd, a brother of the man now under nrrcst 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 be/irc Justice Meade .nt the Tombs police court yesterday ' !~yd made a full confession and gave iii ."urination as to the whereabouts of his brother and Scheig. The three youn.r men have had careers that do not 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 870,000, 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. abovht town* in the full sense of the word. Their first move was to furnish an apartment in gorgeous style, and about that time tlxsy met Phil Scheig, who was then employed as paying teller in the Hank of Minneapolis. Scheig possessed horses and lived like a man enjoying an inconie of $25,000 a year, and his habits created considerable talk. The three men became fast friends. About this time a young n.an whom they knew became posscsed of a fortune of nearly $1,000,000. This was Frank Byers, then about .19 yours 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 i)n open account, which he drew agaist. lie, too, was taken up by the Floyd brothers and for a ti:no the quartet lived at the Floyd anartments. The four had a box at the tiicatcr 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 is thought that in this way Byers was mulcted to a considerable amount. When the 900,000 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 left the bank tore out several drafts and put the certification stamp upon them, marking the stubs void. It 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 familiar with the secret cipher used for identification purposes with the Great Britain correspondent it would be an easy 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 miike friends with swell young men. lie couid tell tales of the grand times they had in their apartments and invite everybody to visit thorn. When any one did come, and not a few took advantage of the invitation, they would be introduced to a g;.imo of 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 ho gained considerable notoriety through his secret marriage to Miss Louise Barge, the youngest daughter of Millionaire Barge of Minneapolis, and again by his being "plucked" for several thousand dollars by gamblers while playing 1 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. Practical dress reform—Pay cash for your clothes. Defaced kid baots will be greatly improved by being rubbed with a mixture of cream and ink. A gentleman must kiss every lady he is introduced to in Paraguay. Jt 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- chasru of immensity all the suns and I orland, an armless artist, has executed moons and stars should tumble like the } w i t j t jj 0r f ee t a portrait of the duchess 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 be held in everlasting remembrance." Oh, Time, we defy thee! Oh, Death, we stamp thee in- the dust of thine own sepulchres! Oh, Eternity, roll on till the last star has stopped rotating and the last sun is extinguished on the sapphire pathway, and the last moon has illumined the last night, and as TELLER'S CRITICISM. Says Mr. but »any years havs passed as all the of York. She was, presumably, a young and inexperienced housekeeper who, on tho 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 1 , and helps me to remember. Old Bachelor—Don't care to marry, Miss Smith, eh? Prefer to keep your "liberty? Miss Smith—Nonsense! I intend to dQ TJS>lb The Oontfy Once-infity life I consorted with professional dog thieves. I Wish It, to be distinctly understood that 1i ttever stole a dog, although I am fted to confess that 1 have beem tempted* and I have told the story of how ott one occasion a dog stole fitter. But t<J return to my thieved. In tho northern part of London, which you will reach by passing through* Felter and Leather lanes,, continuing past tha quaint Italian quarter With it» eathe* drill, the interior of which iff beauti fill, although, tho building is- but crude 1 externally, you will finxJ your-" self in close proximity to; th» ren* dezvous of the' London doff-tW^rves. Near by is a place called llbckings" iri-the-Holo. It is well immetU being situated in a decidodi hollow in> one of the 1 worst quarters of the great-'oifcy. Those- in search 06. a fine, creepy_ foeling should visit if after nightfall as I did I then found' myself in the bar of a small, old-stylo public'house' of very 1 doubtful character, or perhaps I should express'myself better If 1 say that its character was nokaA all doubtful. I was eyed curiously by tho loungers as I took some refreshment at tho bar. I then quietly gave the countersign* in accordance with the instructions with whichil liad armed myself. The powerful and heavy-necked publican changed liis demeanor at onco and ushered mo- through a side door and up a creaky, tortuous and dark staircase. At thistle 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 gus.jots- flickered.here and there. A curious sight mot my gazo. The' room was full of men, throe-fourths o.f whom held dogs of every degree. Tho men were mostly of an uncouth; description, clothed in great part ini coi'duroy, surmounted with the conventional caps that aro worn by tb.0' London oostermonger. They resembled in general .appearance the touts and welchers of tho luiglish racetracks. Most of them smoked short pipes. The dogs yelped and whined 8irnicl the general hum of conversation that came through tho ainber hazo. 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 pi-ice. The' morality of the proceeding is very questionable, but the fact remains. Gin, tho favorite drink with the low class in London, was brought in a jug and served in small wine glasses. I accepted tho hospitality of my friends, tho 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. They took my presence there as a matter of course, and talked with perfect candor. Had I been able to forget tho company I was in I might truthfully record that I spent a pleasant half hour at Hockings-in-tho-Hole. These men aro not all thieves, says Donahoe's Magazine. Some of them are dog brokers, who sell dogs for others or pick up a bargain to sell again. None of them openly admit that they aro professional thieves, although, of course, it is understood perfectly. They "find" lost dogs or else they are commissioned to sell o. dog that belongs to a "friend." Not a small part of their 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 cuttle show. FUN IN FRAGMENTS. Cleveland 18 the Iloas, Uocim't Know Anything. DKNVEK, Colo., Nov. 11. —Senator Teller, who arrived here yesterday, predicts the ultimate success of tho silver cause, scores the eastern press owned by banks and trust companies, sees nothing bright in the immediate future, and of tho tariff says: "We know kuothing about the tariff plans in the senate. There may be borne legislation next winter or these recent elections may scare them off. Of course nothing would change Clove- land. If he knew anything about the tariff he would prepare a bill, carry it to the house and toll them to pass it. He'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 the committee has got him." Cliluese will Register. WASHINGTON, Nov. 11.—Commissioner Miller of the internal revenue bureau is amending treasury department regulations for the registration of Chiuu- uiyn in accordance with the recent act of congress extending tho time of registration for six months. The department has an unexpended balance of about §200, which can be utilised; in putting the new legislation into opera.' ution. This will be eulHcleut for a, month or BO, It is generally under*stood that the Chinese, »$ a'whole, will register, and that after MS mo 111 Chinese not abJLe to produce a "What would you do if your hun- band should join a club?" "1 would, buy one." Datighter—Mamma, what is a par- TOIIUO? Mamma—Ilenlly, 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 sah!" "And I now propose to> C»!ve you a tip— "Thank you. sah."' "On the races." Cool-Headed Citizen—What are yoUi running for? The dog is going; in the- o pposite direction. Fleeing Citir.en, bare-headed and frantic—A polictjman, is shooting at it. "I guess tho doctor? have giv-en.huni tip." "Wha-t's the matter?." "Too- much of tho world's fair." ' "Lthought b« didn't go?" "That's it, hels.had.to. listi-o to people-tell about it," Professor—I hope, sir, you, ha.ve followed my advice and are trying to.injr prove your mind during vacation. Studimit—Yes,, sir, I have flirted, only with Boston, girls this summer, Mr. IT:—Jones will hardly- speak to me these days, He puts on airs, since l;e's gone into wholesale confections. Awfully stuck up. Mrs. 1]., scornfully —What's ha-stuck up with?' Candy? "What has become of that young M»: Broweo whom Florence disliked so heart ly?" '•'He's here- still an4 she's very foadi of him " "He musJi have changed, greatly." "-Hie has;, he's denoting himself to ana her giri," ••'How did you ge* along with your patient, Mulkins?" asked oaa doctor of another. "Wa're b->th on the rpad to recovery " ' 'I don't quite understood." "He ii> able to be about, and 1 have had to. go to l»w about my bill." She—You know, Reggie, that girla are being called by the nainos of flowers now, a»d my sister suggested should be called Thistle. Reggie Oh, yes, I §ee; because you a.¥e SQ

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