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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1896-12-3, Page 3A WRESTLING THATCH BR. TALMAGE ON STRUGGLING WITH THE SUPERNATURAL. God Allows Good Mon to Get Into Tereible Straits—We Struggle With Angels of Blessing—Wrestlings Leave Their Mark —The Daybreak. Washington, Nnv. 22.—Out of this strange scene of Bible times Dr. Tal- mage, in his sermon to -day, draws re- markable lessons of good cheer and triumph. His subject is "Wrestling With the Supernatural" and•the text Genesis acxxli, 26, 26; "And when he saw that he prevailed not against him he touched The hollow of his thigh, and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of joint as he wrestled with him. And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, 1 wIl not let thee go except thou bless me." There is a cloud of dust from a travel - tag herd of cattle and sheep and gouts and camels. They are the present that Jamb sends to gain the good will of his offended brother. That night Jacob halts by the brook Jabbok. But there is no rent for the weary man, no shining lad- der to let the angels down into his dream, but a severe struggle that lasts until morning with an unknown visitor. They each try to throw the other. The Unknown visitor, to reveal his superior power, by a touch wrenches Jacob's thigh bone from its socket, perhaps maiming him for life. As on the morn- ing sky the clusters of purple clouds be- gin to ripen, Jacob sees it is an angel 'with whom he has been contending and .pot one of his brother coadjutors, "Let ''me go," cries the angel, lifting himself up into increasing light; 'the day break. glib. '• You see, in the first place, that God allows good people sometimes to got into a terrible struggle. Jacob was a good man, but here he is Jeft alone in the midnight to wrestle with a tremendous influence by the brook Jabbok. For Jo- seph,a pit; for Dantel,a wild beast's den; for John the Baptist, a wilderness diet and the executioner's ax; for Peter. a prison; for Paul, shipwreck; for John, desolate Patmos; for Christ, the cross. for whom the racks, the gibbets, the prisons, the thumb screws? For the sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty. Some one said to a Christian reformer, "The world is against yon." "'Then," he replied, "I am against the world." I will go further and say that every Christian has his struggle. With financial misfortune some of you have had the midnight wrestle. Red hot disasters have dropped into your store from loft to cel- lar. What you bought yon could not sell. Whom you trusted fled. The help you ex- pected would not come. Some giant panic, with long arms and grip like death, took hold of you in an awful wrestle, from which you have not yet es - *aped, and it is uncertain whether it will throw you or you will throw it. Here is another soul in struggle with some bad appetite, He know not how stealthily it was growing upon him. One gout he woke up. He said, "For the sake of my soul, of my family, of my eblldren and of my God I must stop this!" And behold he found himself alone by the brook of Jabbok, and it was midnight. That evil appetite seised upon him, and he seized upon it, and, 'eh, the horror of the conflict! When once a bad habit bath roused itself up to de- stroy a man, and the man has sworn that by the help of the eternal God he will destroy it,all heaven draws itself out In long line of light to look from above, and all hell stretches itself in myrmidons at spite to look up from beneath. I have seen men rally themselves for a struggle, and they have bitten their lips, and clinched their fish and cried with a blood sed earnestness and a rain of scalding tears, "God help me!" From a wrestle with habit I have seen men fall back defeated. Calling for no help, but relying on their own reso- lutions, they have come into the strug- gle, and for a time it seemed as if they were getting the upper hand of their habit. But that habit rallied again its infernal power and lifted the soul from fi its standing, and with a force borrowed from the pit hurled it into darkness. But, thank God, I have often seen a better termination than this. I have seen men prepare - themselves for such a wrestling. They laid hold of God's help as they went Into combat. The giant habit, regaled by the cup of many dissi- pations, came out strong and defiant. They clinched. There were the writbings and distortions of a fearful struggle. But the old giant began to waver, and at last, in the midnight alone, with none hut God to witness, by the brook Jabbok, the giant fell, and the triumphant wrest- ler broke the darkness with the cry, "Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ.' There is a widow's heart that first was desolated by bereavement and since by the anxieties and trials that came in the support of a family. It is t. sad thing to see a man contending for a livelihood under disadvantages, but to see a deli- cate woman, with helpless little ones at her back, lighting the giant of poverty and sorrows is more affecting. -It was a bumble borne, and passers by knew not that within these four walls were dis- plays of courage more admirable than that of Hannibal crossing the Alps, or to the pass of Thermopylae, or at Bala- klava,where "into the jaws of death rode the six hundred." These heroes had the whole world to cheer them on, but there was no one to applaud the struggle in that humble home. She fought for bread, for clothing, for fire, for shelter, with aching head and weak side and exhausted strength, through the long night by the brook Jabbok. Could it be that none would give her help? Had God forgotten to be granious? No,contending soul. The midnight air is full of wings coming to the rescue. She hears it now, in the sough of the night wind, in the ripple of the brook Jabbok, the promise made so long ago, ringing down the sky, "Thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive, and let thy widows trust in met" Some one said to a very poor woman, "Howis it that in such distress you keep cheerful?" She said: "I do it by what I call cross prayers. When I had. meerent to pay and nothing to pay it with and bread to 'buy and nothing to buy, it with, I used to sit down and cry. But now.I do not get discouraged. If I go along the street, when I come to a corner of the street, I say, 'The Lord help me!' I then go on until I come to` another crossing of the street, and again I say, 'The Lord help mel' And so I utter a prayer at every crossing, and since I have got into the habit of saying these cross prayers I have been able. to ' keep up my courage." Learn again from this subject that people sometimes are surprised to find out that what they have been struggling with in the darkness is really an "angel of blessing." Jacob found in the morn- ing that this strange personage was not an enemy, hut a God dispatched messen- ger to promise prosperity for him and for his children. And so many a man at the close of his trial has found ,out that he has been trying to throw, down his own blessing. If you are a Christian man I will go back in your history and find that the grandest things that have ever happened to you have been your trials. Nothing short of scourging, im- prisonment and shipwreck could have made Paul what he was. When David was fleeing through the wilderness, pur- sued by his own son, ho was being pre- pared to become the sweet singer of Israel. The pit and the dungeon were the best schools at which Joseph ever graduated. The hurricane that upset the tent and killed Job's children prepared the man of Uz to be the subject of the magnificent poem that has astounded the ages. There is no way to get the wheat out of the straw but to thrash it. There is no way to purify the gold but to burn it. Look at the people who have always had it their own way, They are proud, discontented, useless and unhappy. If you want to find cheerful folk, go among those who have been purified by the fire. After Rossini had rendered "William Tell" the five hundredth time, a company of musicians Came under his window in Paris and serenaded him. They put upon his brow a golden crown ot.lnurol leaves. But amid all 'the ap- plause and enthusiasm Rossini turned to a friend and said, "I would give all this brilliant scone for a few days of youth and love." Contrast the melancholy feeling of Rossini, who had everything that this world could give him, with the joyful experience of Isaac Watts, whose sorrows were great, when he says:— The hill of Zion yields A thousand snored sweets Before we reach the heavenly fields Or walk the golden streets. Then let our songs abound And every tear he dry. We're marching through Immanuel's ground To fairer worlds on high. It is prosperity that kills and trouble that saves. While the Israelites were on the march amid great privations and hardships they behaved well. After awhile they prayed for meat, and the sky darkened with a great flock of quails, and these quails fell in great mul- titudes all about them, and the Israelites ate and ate and stuffed themselves until they died. Oh, my friends, it is not hard- ship or trial or starvatione that injures the soul, but abundant supply. It is not the vulture of trouble that eats up the Christian's lifo. It is the quails. You will yet find out that your midnight wrestle by the brook Jabbok Is with an angel of God come down to bless and to save. Learn again that, while our wrestling with trouble might be triumphant, we must expect that it will leave its mark upon us. Jacob prevailed, but the angel touched him, and his thigh bone sprang from its socket, and the good man went limping on his way. We must carry through this world the mark of the com- bat. What plowed these premature wrin- kles in your face? What whitened your hair before it was time for frost? What silenced forever so much of the hilarity of your household? Ah, it is because the angel of trouble hath touched you that you go limping on your way. You need not be surprised that those who have passed through the fire do not feel as gay as once they did. Do not be out of patience with those who come not out of their despondency. They may triumph over their loss, and yet their gait shall tell you that they have been trouble touched. Are we Stoics that we can un- moved see our cradle rifled of the bright eyes and the sweet lips? Cun we stand unmoved and see our gardens of earthly delight uprooted? Will Jesus, who wept himself, be angry with us if we pour our tears into the graves that,open to swal- low down what we loved best? Was Laz- arus more dear to him than our beloved dead to us? No. We have a right to weep. Our tears must come. You shall not drive them back to scald the heart. They fall into God's bottle. Afflicted ones have died because they' could not weep. Thank God for the sweet, the mysterious relief that comes to us in tears. Under this gentle rain the flowers of hope pat forth their bloom. God pity that dry, withered, parched, all con- suming grief that wrings its hands, and grinds its teeth, and bites its nails into the quick, but cannot weep. We may have found the comfort of the cross, and yet ever after show that in the dark night and by the brook Jabbok we were trouble touched. Again, we may take the idea of the text and announce the approach of the day dawn. No one was ever more glad to see the morning than was Jacob after that night of struggle. It is appropriate for philanthropists and Christians to cry out with his angel of the text, "the;day breaketh." The world's prospects are brightening. Superstition has had its strongest props knocked ant. The tyrants of earth are falling flat in the dust. The Church of Christ is rising up in its strength to go forth 'fair as the moon, clear as the sun and terrible as an army with banners." Clap your hands, all ye people, "the day breaketh." As I look around about me I see many who have passed through waves of trou- ble that came up higher than their girdle. In God's name I proclaim cessa- tion of hostilities. You shall not always go saddened and heartbroken. God will lift your burden. God will bring your dead to life. God will stanch the heart's bleeding. I know he will. Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pities you. The pains of earth will end. The dead will rise. The morning star trembles on a brightening sky. The gates of the east begin to swing open. "The day breaketh." Luther and Melanchthon were. talking together gloomily about the prospects of the Church. They;ioould see no hope of deliverance. After awhile Luther got up and said to Melanchthon, "Como, Philip, let us sing the Forty-sixth Psalm, `God is our refuge and strength in every time of trouble.' " Death to many-nay,to all—is a strug- gle and a wrestle. We have many friends whom it would be hard to leave. I care not how bright our future hope is, it is a bitter thing to Took . upon this fair worldand know that we shall never again . see its blossoming spring, its autumnal fruits, its' sparkling streams and to say farewell to those with whom we played in childhood or counseled in manhood. In that night, like Jacob, we may have to wrestle,, but God will not leave as unblessed. It shall not be told in heaven that a' dying soul. cried 'unto God for help, but was not delivered. The lattice, may be turned to keep out the sun, or a book set to dim the light of the midnight taper, or the room may be filled with the cries of orphanage or. widcwbood, or the Church of Christ may mourn over our going: but, if Jesus calls, all is well. The strong wrestling by the brook will cease. The hours of death's night will pass along --1 o'clock in the morning, 2 o'clock in the morn- ing, 4 o'clock in the morning, 6 o'clock in the morning—"the day breaketh." So I would have it when I die, I am in no haste to he gone. I would like to Static here 20 years and preach this gos- pel. I have no grudge against this world. The only fault I have to find with this world is that it treats me too well. But when the time comes to go I trust to be ready, my worldly affairs all settled. If I have wronged others, I want then to be sure of their forgiveness. In that last wrestling, my arm enfeebled with sick- ness and my head faint, I want Jesus beside me. If there be bands on this side of the flood atetohed out to hold me back, I want the heavenly hands stretched out to draw nue forward. Then, 0 Jesus, help me on and help me up! Unfearing, undoubting, may I step right out into the light and be able to look back to my kindred, and friends, who would detain me here, exclaiming: "Let me got Let me got The day break nth,,, Obliging a School Ma'am. A school ma'am had arrived at the frontier town to begin her duties, and the dozen men who saw her get out of the stage and enter the hotel agreed that she was young and good looking. Also, that she was probably nervous, and that the boys hadn't ought to do any shooting on that first night and keep her awake. The girl was at supper when Bill Green entered the roomcap in hand, and in- troduced himself, and added:-- "Thar's a critter in town named Joe Goss, and I've said I'd shoot him on sight. Bain' as it might disturb ye, how- ever, I'll put the shootin' off fur a day or two." The school ma'am thanked him with all her heart, and lie withdrew, but she had only retired to the sitting -room when Bill reappeared to say:—• "Thar's a duffer in town who says he kin make me eat dirt. Hey ye any ob- jeokshuns to my standin' up to him?" "Would there be a quarrel?" she asked. "Sartinly, ma'am." "And shooting?" "Of course." "Then I wish you wouldn't." "All right, ma'am—all right. Fur your sake I'll let him bluff me to -night, and pop him to-morrer." She expressed her deep sense of obliga- tion and he retired, but ten minutes later he re-entered to say: -- "A galoot named Jim Wheelan has sent me word that ho kin break nee in two, and will ho along putty soon to do it. Would you mind if I lit on to him?" "Would it be a fight?" she asked. "Yes: a powerful fight." "Then. I hope you won't." "All right, ma'am—all right. I've allus bin a gentleman and alms hope to be." She thought she had seen the lest of Bill for that night, but she hadn't. She was being shown to her room when he met her in the ball, and anxiously said:— "Thar's a wall -eyed heathen out yore, who needs shootin', but I won't do it to -night on acoonnt of you. I'd like to ax ye, however, if I might take three drinks at the bar?" "But you might get drunk." "Oh, no. I'll take three drinks, and then fling my hat down and jump on it." "But, no quarreling." "No,ma'am. I'll jump on my hat and boot, and some cuss will tackle me, and I'll ohawahis ears off and gouge his eye out, and you won't hear a sound or lose a wink of sleep. All right, ma'am; all right.• I'm a gentleman an' ye ar' a lady, and things shall go off as slick as grease, or I'll kill five or six men and know the reason why." Two New Professions. There are two new professions which have lately been developed and are now being written about. One is the "glori- fier" and the other is the "cutter out." The glorifier is a man employed by rich but stupid persons to make them out devils of fellows, don't you know. He frequents the places where men congre- gate, goes into society and knows all the best people. Then he tells stories about the witty things his friend Smith says and relates instances of his courage or shrewdness or anything else. Smith's friends get to look on Smith as a remark- able man. Smith becomes popular and is made a lion. Smith pays the glorifier good money for his part in the transac- tion and ever afterward poses as a great man. The cutter out can be of either sex. There is a rich family that has a son or daughter, as the ease may be, who is infatuated with somebody against whom the parents have a prejudice. Perhaps the object of the infatuation is beneath the son or daughter in rank or isn't just good or something else. The parents go to the cutter out and give him or her the proper instructions. The cutter out goes to work and fascinates the objec- tionable object of adoration. The son or daughter is thrown over, and the cutter out gets a fat fee. It isn't everybody who would make a good glorifier or a good cotter out, but there are vast possibilities for persons who have the requisite qualities of mind and body and the necessary belittled opinion of themselves that will permit them to do the work.—Buffalo Commer- cial. Life is Worship. Life is not the mere living. It is wor- ship; it is the surrender of the soul to God; and it is service; it is to feel that, when we dio, whether praised or blamed, whether honored or ignored, whether wealthy or destitute, we have done some- .thing'to make the world we came to better and happier; 'we have tried to cast upon the water some seed which, long after we are dead, may still bring forth its flowers of Paradise. The seed dies. but the harvest lives. Sacrifice is always fruitful, and there is nothing fruitful else. Out of the suffering comes the seri- ous mind; out of . the salvation, the grateful heart; out of the endurance, the fortitude; out of the deliverance, the faith.—Dean Farrar. wrong. "He died of tobacco heart," said the physician, when the post-mortem exam- ination has been concluded, "Impossible!" replied the dead man's chum. "He never smoked anything but cigarettes." Better Than the Other Way. Mother -in -law -Don't' you know that cropping your, hair so tight as that will make it fall out. Son-in.law—Oh, yes; but that'd•, the way I prefer to lose it. "—:Tudge. GOT RICH IN A NIGHT. A knot of telegraphers were holding up the corner of "163" and swapping stories. Most of them had worked in a score of states, and some had seen the whole country. The talk turned upon "carrying the banner," and the compar- ative merits of the East and West for a man who was "broke." "The East isn't in it with the West," said the fat operator. "Here's a little ex- perience I bad in '89. I struck Spokane at night on the 3rd of August. That was Saturday. I was flat broke—hadn't a cent. The next day the whole town was wiped out by the big fire. That evening I was strolling about, looking at the ruins, when I saw some men stringing a wire. One of them was the local manager —man I used to know in Jacksonville. "He said: 'Hello, Church, want to go to work?' L told him yes. 'Well,' he said, 'I've got a box relay here. This lineman will take you out to the east end of the town and show you where you can cut in on Portland, Seattle and Tacoma.' "We went away out to a lumber yard and made the connection, ' W-, 'Ea.' and 'Po.' were calling and . lighting for the circuit. They'd beard of the Bre over the railroad wires. I set up my instrument on a pile of lumber, and by the time I Was ready to begin a hundred men were fighting to get messages through to their friends. The messages were written on letter backs, old envelopes, newspaper margins, and a good many of them on shingles from the lumber yard.. "I stood up on the lumber pile and shouted: 'I don't know what the regu- lar charges are here, but it'll cost every one of you $1 a message for ten words.. "Nobody made a kick, The money came in carriages. They shoved it up faster than I could take it in—and I oan take in money pretty fast. I kept that wire hot all that night and all the next day, and by the time I was clear I had a roll as big as a Broadway cable spool. When I went to turn in the business to the manager, he said he couldn't charge anything more than the regular rates, so I was forced to keep the rest of it. "That night we had a barn door cov- ered so you couldn't see the wood with messages for men who bad been burned out. We didn't know their addresses and couldn't find them, so we just nailed the messages up on the barn door and let them pick them out themselves. I left town Tuesday with a wad that made me round shouldered. Give me the West every time." Boy's Letter to His Parents. My Dear Parents:—I can't say that I like this school very much. But the teacher has made a hit with me, and I am taking great pains with my lessons. Your dutiful son, JOHNNIE. Not Any in Ours. While on a business trip to Florence last week we had the privilege of a close inspection of a vehicle called a bicycle. This was the first time we ever saw one except at a distance, After we had fin- ished our inspection the owner showed us how the old thing worked and sug- gested that we try it. We had never met with anything on wheels which we could not get on to and stay as long as we pleased, and it waswith a great deal of self-confidence that we tackled that bike. We know how we got on, but as to how we got off will ever be a puzzle to us. We can't make out whether the thing bucked with us or ran away, but when we came to we had a scalp wound five inches long, our nose was badly warped and we had a mouthful of dirt and grass to chew on. Some men might have tried it again, but we didn't. When we want anything more in that line we'll get in the way oe a stampeding herd of steers or try a timber slide down a mountain. Our friendly feelings for the bikist will undergo no change, but as for the critter itself we warn it that our guns are load- ed, and we shall take all precaution to protect ourself.—Arizona Kicker. His Hard Luck. "Talk about there being no such thing as luck," said Bilking, depreciatingly; "why, everything's luck—life, riches, health. and even the choice of parents depends on the merest chance. And I have been the unluckiest dog in Chris- tendom." "Unlucky?" said Wilkins, sympatheti- cally. "Why, I don't know. Now, you've health, a wife--" "There's an example, my wife. You remember the day we walked down town together? You picked up old Rock- leigh's pocketbook. Your acquaintance in this way with him was wholly an ac- cident. Now you are his partner in a money -coining business. I picked up a girl's handkerchief. Now I am her hus- band. I tell you, old man, I'm a Jonah." No Wonder She Left. Lady (in pursuit of a cook)—Why did you leave your place? Cook—I couldn't stand the dreadful way the master and the mistress used to quarrel, mum. Lady—What did they used to quarrel about? Cook—The way the dinner was cooked, mum. --Cincinnati Enquirer. Auricular.' One f'ummer evening a miller was lean- ing over his garden gate,facing the road, enjoying his pipe, when a conceited young farmer happened to be passing. The miller, In a friendly tone, said: "Good evening, George:" "I didn't speak," said George,, gruffly. "Oh," said the miller, "1 thought you did, but it must have been your ears flapping!". The Difference. "The essential difference between the man and the woman," said the cheerful Idiot, "is one of wear and tear." "Eh?" said the new boarder. "Yes. Man spends his money foolishly on a tear and woman on wear."—In- dianapolis Journal, STORY OF A BAD BOY. By Bill Nye. Many years ago there lived in Neve Haven a very bad boy. He was born one hundred and forty-five years ago, and he is now dead, so I feel at liberty to write his biography. Sometimes it is perfectly tiresome waiting for a man to die, so that you will feel safe in saying what you think of him; but if be hap- pens to be a large, robust man, it cer- tainly pays to do it. ' This toy was known tar and wide as the meanest and notoriously hopelessly bad boy in Connecticut. No other boy made•any claims whatever when he was around, and for years he carried the belt. He knew all the little, fine tricks of Meanness and cruelty atthe age of 12 years that. It generally takes a life -time to acquire. When others worked hard all day to devise new kinds of wickedneess, and lay on their stomachs nights, by the light of a pine knot, and patiently worked out the more difficult problems of mean- ness and lawlessness, this lad seemed to breathe it all in the very air. His won- derful genius as a successful bad boy was remarked by those who did not know him at all. He was a prodigy of wicked- ness,- a miracle of meanness. He loved to get little boys into his hands and then duck them or scare them out of their senses. He succeeded in crip- pling several little schoolmates, and one day blew out the teache;'s eye with a cannon firecracker. He loved to see his little friends fall into his traps, and very few of his intimate friends succeeded in dying a natural death. I could go on page after page telling of the funny pranks of this bad boy, if I chose to, and it would make you laugh until the tears ran down your cheeks to rend how he filled the asylum, the hospi- tal and the cemetery with his friends. Whenever any of the neighbors' dogs saw this humorous boy they would con coal their tails as far as possible and go to Canada till the bad boy had grown up or died. He was a great lover of fun, and in one evening so scared three little girls with a skull covered with phosphorus and worked by machinery, that they bad fits all their lives. He knew more ways to produce a laugh and scare a child into spasms than any boy of his age in Connecticut --and you 'must re- member that this was over a hundred years ago when boys diiin't have the ad- vantages they have now. Everybody said this boy would certainly come to some bad end. He could not escape, they thought. No boy could possibly be so lawless and so disagreeable and still amount to anything. There were thou- sands of straitlaced, Puritanical croakers who said that the boy would sink to nothing whatever, or land in the peni- tentiary. He said, however, that lie was just sowing his wild oats, and that when he got his crop in he proposed to reform and make his mark. Year after year he lived on, as full of the "old scratch" as ever. Now and then he would burn a barn, just to see the cattle scatter and watch the old farmer bustle out in his shirt with a pail of water. But observe how the prophecies of his neighbors failed. It ought to encourage every bad boy in the country to -day whose relatives and friends speak harshly of him. This lad at last grew to be a man and was known all over the civil- ized world. His name is familiar to every one, and in the history of our great land you will find alongaccount of him; and still he had the reputation of pull- ing frogs to pieces while they were alive; of leaving mud turtles on the track for the passenger, trains so that he could hear them pop; and of putting kittens on the kitchen stove to watch them while they danced. Bad boy, do not be discouraged. Hope on, for there may be a future for you. Do not lose hope when your parents talk back at you. You have just as good a chance to be known all over the world as the boy of whom I have told yon. He was poor, too. He had to sow his wild oats, too, as you say, but he stead- ily worked his way on until at the time of his death he was known wherever the English tongue was spoken as Benedict Arnold, and everybody wanted to see him very much indeed. Even the sheriff, who wouldn't recognize him at all when he was a boy, walked for miles and miles to find him and converse with him. When he got there Mr. Arnold wasn't at home. He bad thought of something in England that he wanted to go and get. (The above story). which originally ap- peared in the New York World, was one of the last stories from the pen of the late humorist.) "Making a clean breast of it." Plenty of Game. In Livingston, Montana:— Tenderfoot—Is there any game around here? Kindly -disposed Native — Oh, yes; poker and pea -knuckle and seven-up al- most any time, and faro Sunday nights, but I'll tell you what it is, young luau, judging by your looks, if you want to carry any money back home with you, you hadn't better try 'em. "— Samezville Journal. Bad flim There. Mr. Chugwater—Women voting and holding office? Shucks! Think of women in Congress making laws for the coun- try! Mrs..Cbngwater—Well, if ever we do elect a Congress we'll never send such a lot of old women to the Senate as ypu've got there now. The idiom. "Whyfor eez it zat a woman's face eez used on zee silver dollar in zis country," inquired a visiting foreigner. "Because," growled the impecunious native, "it is the idiom of our language that money talks." A New Terror. He (in alarm)—What is that strange noise behind me? She -I dare say it's mamma at the keyhole. She hate probably been trying to take a photograph of your intentions, Lumbering on the. Ottawa,. A LIFE OP GREAT HARDSRIP A7I'A EXPOSURE. Rives Drivers Often Waist Deep in lay Waters.—Pain-Racked iSodieri the erre- quent Outcome --Only the Host Mohawk Can Stand This Weary Round of Toil From the Ottawa Free Press. Only those who have engaged in the arduous ocoupatinn of lumbering know bow dearly earned is their livelihood, lot among the many vocations of men that of lumbering ranks among the most dangerous and diffioult. There is the heavy shanty labor from earliest dawn to evening star when the toiler for halt the year is remote from home and friende, and whose daily round is to sat and work and sleep, only getting an occasional glimpse of the outside world through a long looked for letter from some loved one far away. Then the days lengthen,the frozen lake breaks up, and comes the driving of logs and hewn timber down the tortuone swift running stream. when necessity often calls the driver to wade body deep in the swift flowing, icy waters. None but the strong can engage in such heavy labor, only the most robust are able to stand the ten hours of daily toil, with but a mid-day hour's respite. Such, in brief, is the life of many thousands of laborers in the Ottawa valley, and among the many is Thos. fable, of 1230 Head street, Chandiere, who for twelve long years has wrought for the great lumber king, Zr. R. Booth, shantying in the snowy northern forests, and lifting three inch deal during the summer heats. It is not to be wondered at that in his long experience and great exposure he should contract a severe cold that In time took permanent lodging in the region of his loins and kidneys. Like many others he thought to wcrk it off, but in vain. Soon the pains in the region of the kidneys became so intense that labor was a for ture to him, and it was only the indom- itable courage, born of a knowledge that , others were dependent upon him, that urged him to pursue his weary round of daily toil. Every sudden movement of the body was as a thorny goad that made him wince beneath, its sting. Added to this was an unusul and excessive sweat- ing which necessitated frequent changes of clothing, and which weakened him to such an extent that his appetite was almost entirely gone, and eventually but little food and much water was his daily fare. Many vain efforts were made by Mr. Dobie to free himself from the pains which had fastened themselves upon him, and one medicine after another was used, but without effect. Life became a burden and existence a thing almost undesirable, After many fruitless efforts he was induced to try Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. When three boxes were taken the change in his condition was marvel- lous, and his own words are "when I had taken six boxes I was a new man and consider the cure worth hundreds of dollars." Mr. Dobie,although completely cured continues taking Pink Pills occa- sionally and is very enthusiastic in hie praises of what the pills have done for him. Many of his fellow workmen seeing' the great change wrought in him by these famous pills have been led to give them a trial for other ailments and are unanimous in pronouncing them superior to all other medicines. Dr. Williams' Pink Pills act directly on the blood and nerves, building them anew and thus driving disease fromthe system. There is no trouble due to either of these causes which Pink Pills will not cure, and in hundreds of oases they have restored patients to health. after all other remedies had failed. Ask for Dr. Williams' Pink Pills and take nothing else. The genuine are always enclosed in boxes the wrapper around which bears the full trade mark "Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People." May be had from all dealers or sent post paid on receipt of 50 cents a box or six boxes for $2.50 by addressing the Dr. Williams' Medicine Co., Brockville, Ont. Resemblances Come With Old Age. "Age brings out family likenesses or resemblances as nothing else can or will," replied a scientist who laps given much attention to the study of physiology and its running mate, physiognomy. "In the ordinary life of a man or woman they are so much .occupied by other things—that is, with the pleasures, passions or business of the world—that they do not show any of the lineaments of tkeir.parents. When old age comes on them, however, they show many of the resemblances of the parent stook. Take your own circle, for illustration. "If you are old enough to remember the parents of any of your friends or relatives you will notice that as they in turn grow old the family likenesses come out. There are, of course, some people who have the general features and ap- pearances of their parents, and in many cases of both father and mother, though in most cases of but one and that most likely of the father, in their youth and through life. There are others, though, who had none of the marked family likenesses until they reached an advanced age. By this I mean fifty years or so. In many cases persons have shown in their faces none of the family likenesses until they reached very advanced ages, and it grows more and more marked as they leave the milestones of age behind them."—Washington Star. De oarrett. "Look here," 'said the city editor to the new reporter, "you allude in this story to Mr. Roxwell as a financier." "Why, he handles a great deal of money." "I don't care if be does. I don't want you to call him a financier. He hasn't any side whiskers.!"—Washington Star. A Natural Byron, Mrs. Haysees—Where did you learn that new piece!'' ' Daughter—It isn't a new piece. The piano has been tuned.