The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

' son alone represented the heir to this wealth, an earnest lad of seven- teen, at the time his father changed his business, the darling or,a Christian mother, and his father's idol. All the struggles of her fathers life were not known to Ethel, but she did know that as he grew to manhood his whole soul revolted at the money earned as his 'ather's was, and that he had resolutely refused to become a partner in the business he condemned. There had been terrible scenes, and the result was that he was given the choice of accepting a share in the business, or leaving his father’s house. And he had gone from his home, exiled, to accept a position as teacher in the col- lege where he had been educated. By close economy he had saved suificient from his salary to study for the minis- try, and had taken his place in Grey- ston, an earnest minister of the gospel, a man honored and beloved in his chosen sphere, He had married, and Old John Morville had made his fortune in selling liquor. He had owned large distilleries, and eased his conscience by selling the liquor in large quantities, ignorant of its destin- ation, and at liberty to believe it was used for medicinal or harmless pur- poses. He had not inherited the busi, ness, a:d be able to plead that as an excuse for continuing it. At forty years of age he had been in another business, and, tempted by the large profits had deliberately bought a flour- ishing saloon and bar-room, adding Another, and still another, and seeing money flow in exceeding his most sanguine expectations. would not. be put aside. Ethel knew that her father, who had been the pastor of the little white church over which Henry Mocville now presided, had left his home, his father, a life of ease, because of this Yew money, now offered to her, had seemed to him laden With a curse, stained with sin. Oéer this first outburst of rejoicing there crept slowly a cloud of misgiving and doubt, a stinging recollection that Her first emotion upon reading the letter that told her her grandfather had died, leaving her sole heiress to his property, had been one of exulting joy. Here. was the road to happiness. She could put it into Henry rMorville’s hands the power to do good-to seek wider fields of usesulness. They could travel, make holiday for a time and then return to work faithfully, but without the necessity for rigid economy and painful self denial that had so long cramped their lives. But Henry, did not, as she had hoped, offer to see her again, and she left him, her heart sore and heavy, when that of most women would have exulted at the news only that day received, that she was now heiress to a large fortune-a sum of money so vast that its mere look in figures on paper had dazzled her. She said no more, walking silently beside him, until they reach: d the gate of the little garden leading to the cot- tage where Ethel kept house with one old servant. Here they parted with a starnge, new constraint, Ethel saying sadly : "I will go to New York on the early mormng' train." "You oduid," he answered with strong emphasis. “I am too thohrouglr, ly your father’s pupil, Ethel, even to touch a dollar of your graudfathev's money." "True, we are very poor , but. what we haveis earned by no trade that burdens the conscience. We lead no souls to ruin : we take no bread from the lips of starving mothers and ehild- Pen. I w111 not advise you, Ethel, You must go to New York and se) this lawyer, and I leave the rest to your own conscience." V “If it was Ethel said. gondL Henry, - It 'was an hour and a scene for ro- mance and sentiment. An evening in June , the air filled with the perfume of roses, of clover blossoms, of all the sweet country fragrance, in the lane where the Rev. Henry Morville and Ethel Weldon walked slowly homeward from their stroll that often made their rest and recreation after. the labors of the day. They were lovers, long he- trothed, for the salary of the minister of Greyston was very small, and Ethel was the village schoohnistress, So they had given up all Iliought of an “early martiage,and denied themselves every luxury, and many comforts, in the present, to lay by a few hard-earn- ed dollars toward the furnishing of that house they hoped to share some time in a vague future. "We are so very poor, Henry," she said, after they had walked some dis- tance in silence. On this evening there was a set, rather hard look in Henry Morville's eyes, and in Ethel's a wistful tender- ness, as she told him of astmnge, most unexpected turn of fortune's wheel in her favor. They were a 'fine looking, couple--- both tall, both handsome, and in each face was an expression that told of earnest purpose and high aim, enabling their lives and lifting them above the often vexing routine of their every-day labors. For Uonsclence’ Sake. JY ANNA SIIIEI DS nnly right to take it!" "We could do so much And yet he loved her-loved her with a pure devotion he had not, fully realized himself before these dreary weeks of separation. She had been so long his other self that his loneliness, his bitter. sense of loss, was indescribable, and the desire to rush to New York, to bring, her back on any terms, atany cost, nay, even to stay with her, was, at times, almost maddening. Every hour of her absence increased his love, even against the growing conviction of her unworthiness. He tried to despise her, to set her love of riches against all the noble [qualities of her heart and mind, and failed. Conscious of his own love of power, his own temptation to grasp the riches offered him thivugh her, and making it an instrument of widespread usefuh eis, he could fully appreciate its orelwhelmitag, attraction for one retired in a hard school of po- The June roses had faded; July, August and September were over, and October half gone and the Rev. Henry Morville had not once seen his betroth» ed. She had written very seldom, her letters giving him very little informa- tion, being guarded, and he fancied, cold. And he was conscious that his replies invited no confidence, his Colts- cience dictating the sternest disappro- val of Ethel's acceptance of the money her father had so absolutely refused. He had not actually asked her. to choose between her lover and her wealth, but he knew that she fully understood that he would never share with her the money he believed to be ill-gotten and accursed. _ Then he left her to wander about the house, taking, in spite of her digni- fied manner almost a child-like interest in her new possessions,, and listened to Mrs. Carter's rather long-winded des- criptions and explanations ssith exem- plary patience. Refined in taste, and with a keen appreciation of all her. dainty surroundings, Ethel found her room, with all its luxurious appoint- ments, a delight such as she had never experienced. Half despising her own pleasure, she reveled in its space, its beautiful furniture, the large adjoining bath-room, the profusion of gas burn- ers, the long mirrors and dainty little feminine details Mrs. Carter ‘11le pro- vided as soon as M r. Dupont had warned her to be ready to receive the heiress. "You will find Mrs. Carter thé best of housekeepers,” and she will see about a maid for you. I n the meantime, l suppose she can train one of the house- maids for your wants. Mrs. Dupont will call to-morrow, and will be pleased to assist you in procuring your mourn- mg. Their interview was a long one, and When it ended Ethel found her own carriage had been sent, for, and Mr. Dupont accompanied her to her house where every luxury wealth could cummand lay round her, where her feet sank into soft carpets, cushioned chairs tempted her to laziness, choice pictures asxed for admiration, a grand piano wakened musical longing, and arten- tive servants waited her commands. It was new, bewildering, and certainly pleasant, and Mr. DuPont wondered again at the absence of all shyness, and the easy aceeptarce of all the no- veltus. . guide her, possibly tetwified at the novelty of city life and the grand house open to receive her. His grave, elder- ly face assumed its most fatherly and encouraging, expression, but changed oddly as a tall, graceful, perfectly self- possessed lady entered the room, and aeknowledpd his greeting with an easygvaee. Ethel had not been lady of the Parsonage, mistress of a school for years without learning conitesy, self-control and (use of manner, and her beautiful face and dignified figure were never seen to better advantage than when she faced Mr. Dupont, something of the resolution at which she had arrived in her large, dark eyes. It was nearly //orm of the day " lowing Ethel's reception of thelawyer's letter, when she came into his or'hce, sending a card in advance. He had expected to see a shy country girl, overwhelmed by her change of fortune, ready to allow him to control and Not until shehad passed her nine- teenth year was Ethel left alone, and the, sorrow for her father had been cmnfurked by his pupil and successor, who had been her ehildhood's best friend, sharing her studies her pleas- ures and griefs for nearly ten years. He had been at, college, returning only for holidays, until Ethel was trsventy-one years old, when Henry Murville was offered the pulpit, never filled titce. Mr. 11reldou's death, and accepted the charge. For some weeks the babe had been the care of one of the members of the church, and had then been eonfided to Margaret Stune, a widow of three months, whose infant had followed his father to the grave. And Margaret Stone had never given up her care. She had taken the place of housekeeper in Mr. 1Veldon's cottage; had taught, Ethel to cook, sew and knit ; and had taken care that her father, who was her teacher from ABC to Latin verses, did not over-tax the willing brain and eager intellect. The organist of the church had given Ethel music and singing lessons, cultivating carefully a fair amount of talent andasweet, clear voice. Ethel was born three weeks'before her mother died. 1lly It is claimed that Henry Gnebel, of irrn New Yovk, invented the incandescent IM)- lamp, and not Thos, A. Edison. At that point 31 people were killed, dozens injured and the town almost cmnpletely destroyed. A pall has overspread the town, business is SUS- pended and everybody able to render any assistance to the poor unfortunate or towards removing the dead bodies are out searching among' the track of the cyclone, People are frenzied and cannot give any estimate of their loss, knowing nothing except. to care for the dead and injured. Other Towns Devnstmed. Further on the towns of 'Duuris and Keokuk Falls are but little better. These towns were nearly devastated and scores of people injured fatally and otherwise though the loss of life here will not be as serious at Memes. The brunt of the storm was laid upon the prosperous little town of Norman, on the Saute Fe Railway, about 20 miles south of here. Orders for 31 eoffins have been received here. Supplies have been telegraphed for from other points. It is re/ported that (Al human lives were saccificed. It is positive that 40 were killed, while several were fatally injured. Damage to property is inesti- umbie. Though the éyclone lasted but a minute or twu, the wreck left in its wake was terrible. A path half a mile in width and eight miles long was laid waste. Oklahama City, April 26.--Two distinct cyclones, a terrific hailstorm and a water spout combined to wreck awful destruction in the newly-built towns in Oklahoma last night, A Town In Kansas Wipe-d out. Homes, o. T,, April 267le count- ry west and southwest of here was swept lrya terrible cyclone at 7.30 last evening. Endless damage was done, but how much will not be known until telegraphic communication is restored. The news at hand makes it certain that ten persons were killed and many inure injured and much property destroyed. V And he [tid not. Ethel’s little cot., tage was sold, a small, but comfortable house tiken, and modestly furnished, tlle whole village sending gifts to the minister’s bride. And although there are many privatiuns in her life, and luxury is unknown in the home over which she presides, Ethel Morville has never regretted the fortune) she sacri- f1ced for conscience' sake. l "Richer, dear; for we can start a ‘home whenever you wish! After all this weary lousiness is over, Mr. Du, punt gave me a sealed letter, directed tome by my grandfather. Henry, it was written just before he clied, and was not to be gisen to me, unless I followed Ithe teaching of my father, anlvehvsed the money he would not accept. In this letter he, told me that, vielding to my grandmother's entreat- ties, he had set aside five thousand clol. lars when he sold his old business. My grandmother was convinced that evil would come of the new venture, and this money she took, and kept apart as a reserve when ruin came, After. her death my grandfather still held it apart, using, the interest in his business, but never touching the prin- cipal. It is money untouched by the curse upon the rest, money honestly earned in a business that could harm no man. You will not refuse to share that, Henry?' We are no poorer than we were a few months ago. “My noble girl! My own Ethel! Henry cried. “1 was sure your own heart; and conscience would guide you right, though, forgive me darling, I did not hope it would be so soon. "It was all gimp, Henry-every dol- lar of the mnnev made by selling I‘llm.. T would not write, until T was free You should have seen Mr. Dupont's horror! I had to fight every inch of the ground, but I was of age, the mon- ey was mine, and I told him plainly he might obey me and pay himself what- ever he pleased, UT hand over the busi- ness to another. The salsurns, are sold and the stock destroyed. Not one drop was sold for furtherrnisehief-mak, ing. The money was given to hospi- tals, free libraries, chaiities of various kinds, and a fund set aside, under Mr. Dupont/s control, to be given to wid- ows and orphans of drunkards, or to reclaim those who are on the road to intempelance. verity as Phtl had been, He was wining upon it all, his heart full of grief and sore pain, when a. light step in a narrow entry, 9. tap upon his study door, aroused him, and amoment Inter Ethel, sobbing tremb- ling, laughing, an Ethel utterly unlike the dignified lzuly of Mr. Dupont's ac- quaintance, was in his arms. He could think of nothing first but the joy of seeing her, of holding her fast and it was; same moments before either of them could speak. Ethel was the first to command her voice. It required all his manly strength, his religious orurvictivm, to combat the ever occurring sophistries that tempted him, and he could only brace himself as well as possible to bear the separa- tion that was so hitter for life. THE CYC LONE'B WORK A Dendly Combinnllon. The People Frenzlcd. Water! 'Weil,' indignantly, ‘if he has got red hair he don't have to carry a teles- cope or a compass ot' a field glass or a sextant to find out where he is at, Charlie went down by the electric, light works at Little Falls the other night. He heard the engine in the works putiing away. He being near- Moss, mean! I think: your Charley is the sweetest fellow I ever Saw, with the exception of my Fred. You know that, Charlie squints I and-' ‘Squints I Who squints y 'Why Charlie does, and--' 'Well, if he does squint he hasu't got red hair, If my fellow had hah. em red as your Fred has, I--' 'Well, T will tell you, Charley gave it to me-hut you must never, never tell. I told 11mmma that Ella B--, gave it to me, for she Joesn't believe in my having a fellow, you know.' 'Indeed I am not,' indignantly. 'Oh where did you get that lovely pin l I “think it is the prettiest thing I have ever seen.' 7130 y/lil Now I think that veil you have gut is the must lsewitching thing I ever' saw. If I had your style 'Now, how mean you ave,' blushing- ly; ‘I know you are making fun of 'Do you think so? (with a pleased smile.) 'Why, I think it’s just horrid. I've told 1n'anmra every' time that I put it on that I would never wear it again.' 'Why, I think it is the most becom- ing thing you,eve1‘ wore.' _ I was amused at the conversation between two young girls at Iliun the other evening. It ran something like this, and shows that femininity is the same the world ever ', , 'My, Carrie, what a lovely hat you have.' It cannot be wondered at that farnn- ing is despised l)y farmers' sons, when everyone of them who displays a little bit more than average brightness is pronounced too good to follow the plow and is sent off to college, whence he occasionally swoops down upon his native settlement, wearing silk hats, canes and a Cockney accent. The boys who stay at home affect to laugh at the airs of this gilded creéture, but in their hearts they envy his clothes and his cane, his easy time and that pro- fanity of his, compounded with all the modern improvements and tiavotred with a spice of classic-ism. Nine fathers out of ten possessing the means educate their sons for a profession, and al- though vast numbers of them go to the United States, still Ontario is swarming with lawyers and doctors, so that it may be said that there is but an average of half a. practice for each practitioner. I believe that only ten per cent of those who secure a special education are competent to succeed in specialities. It is better to give a boy u. solid foundation of industry than anything else. If he has something in him it will mount up and carry him up. It is easier for a grown man to acquire a neglected education than for an educated and indolent man to acquire habits of industry. An inten iewer on one of the even- ing papers the other day made a, vvA)llie'- what novel discovery in the shape of a wealthy farmer who was in town for the purpose of arranging for the college education of his suns, who, nevertheless, were designed to her-nine, farmers. it is not. often that It mam who has money and the inclination to give. his sons i'. college training is content to plan for them a future as agrcicultuiGts. ft, is the, custom to supinise that all n farmer needs is physical strength, and farmers who possess this only and huh an intel- ligence in its nnronth state are the ones who most strongly uphold this viersr and put it into practice with regard to their sons. Such a 11l'rbl1 will have envied the good clothes and apparent leisure. of the doctor, the nwyer and the minister, and he will give his three brightest boys an edu- cation, fiUing them for the pro- fessions. His fo.urth son he will de, sign for the, farm, and all the schooling he will consider him in need of will be enough to ennhle him to sign his mnne to a inoragztge and figure out the value of forty bushels of wheat at eighty-six 'CBXtS l bushel. This is going on all l over Canada. It is a saying that it's at mighty poor family that cannot support one gerttleman--the Word gentleman signifying nothing inure than good clothing and laziness. Ag- ricultural machinery has done away with the necessity for more than one or two men for it hundred acre farm, and so u. farmer sends all his sons hut one into town. If he, hy grinding and starving all upon the, premises, includ- ing the dissatisfied boy who.is kept at home to be the family drudge, can get together enough money, he will make one boy a doctor, another a lawyer and another a clergyman or school teacher. When he dies the mortgaged and rurr down farm will he left to the son who I stayed at home, who will also have debts and legacies to pay and sisters to provide for. The old man will not have, nicelyicooled off in his grave before the son, in whom the town fever has been sizzling all these years, will auction off' his farm and all upon it and move intrrtown. His little stock of money soon goes and he joins the immense army of Starving unemployed THE FARMERS SUNS AGAIN, 'loo I wo Sarcastic Glrls. County Chm niele. He (jealous of his rival)-There is one thing about Count Minklini that is unquestionably not bogus. She-Wlrat's that? He-His fh1ancial necessities. Si/e-why, hé had been drinking-- I can smell it yetiwnd the. husband's knees hit to,gethevl'nervously.) He-Why didn'e you give that pour tramp something? - - - An’ you white folks in de back ob the church, if hruddeh Samuel says he t'anks de Lawd he's hones' i ifbruddeh 'Rastus tells you he hates de sight oh chicken pie, remembeh dat King David says, 'All men um lialm,’ an' keep yuuh hewlouse locked-Charles Batten Loomis in the Century. An’ now, my breddcen, dey is some lessons to be learned fum all dis. If bruddeh Caleb obeh dah am notable fo' gin'rtssity; if sistell Dinah is ttot- able fo' her meekuess; don't you he discou'aged, my po' 'hruddeh Nu-‘cnuut,’ 'lrase you is n’t notable fo' anyt'ing. Remembeh dat reputations am ohfen gut widout desevsrin'; remembeh ole Aunuias wid his mise'bul picayune lie, au' do de bes' you kin. Probehly we ain' got de winnin' ways ob ole Ananias. We sut/n'y kyan't mek a ieetlo lie go ez fur ez he did. But, my breddren, it wahn't his winniu’ ways alone dat raised ole An- auias to de penuckle ob fame. It wuz his 'mediate death. He might; have lived to be ea ole ez George Washin'ton an' nebeh tole anudder lie. His dyiny when he did wuz de makin' ol) him. 'Now, my breddren, we ain' tole dat Ananias was a habifruous liah ; we ain’t tale dat he eveh pehfohmed on'y de one lie , an' yit he made de biggest reputation dat aliah Ot' a man-de same t'ing my lweddren,--ebeh made. Why, my breddren, you or me tells mo' lies au' bigger lies elAy day ol, our lives, an' yit what soht ob reputations hal, we 1 De mos' ob us none at all. a cawmon, Query ehiy-day Iiah. An' yit, my breddren, look at Ananias to, day 1 See de magnillikent reputation ez a liah ob dat man ! Why, he am de:patron saint ob Hubs; an' wuz befo' you an' me wuz bohn---'way back, long 'fo' de wah. My breddren, somewhah in de 'sSa'rust King David says, 'All men am liahs'; an' den he says, 'Reputation am ohfen got widout desevvinV I want to invite youll t'oughts dis mawnin' to de 'speyance oh one ob de liahs, showin' de trufe ob de seeon' tex', 'Reputations am olden got widout de- servin'.' Ananias was a man-an', -lle was a liah. But he wahn't a great liah. He , . . wahn t eben a. right smaht huh. Des Another unsafe practice is to turn down a burning lamp low enough to smoke, for the purpose of saving oil or obtaining a, subdued light. The vapor soon fills a tight room ivith 'a poisonous gas wholly unfit to breathe, and there have been instances of death caused by inhaling this gas through the hours of the night in it closed chitmher. Eith- er allow the wick of a lamp to he. high enough to hum r'leutv, otherwise. extin- guish it. The right way to do this is to turn it down so as to shut off about half the flame, and then blow slightly across the top of the chimney, but never dime ly down the chimney, as this is unsafe. Lamps should be filled and trimmed in the morning, and never hy larnp-lighe ; after being filled, if the wicks are turned down it will prevent the overflow of oil on the sur- face of the lamp-Country Gentlemen. fight rig] got {Pm-ay possible. 'Oh, ynu 111mm thing! You just made that, up out, of whole cloth. Any- way. yum Fred is accused of setting five tn the buildings destroyed in Little Falls. I heard that he laid down in the hay M the R wkton barn and his hair set five--' sighted he couldn't, see where he was. He was found there standing patiently in the morning, and a Central sw1tch- man noticed him and went up to him and asked him what he was (hung thvre. 'Waiting for the train to g() Iv,' he sun}, pointing to the electric light wtulss.' ls, when Banach“, Ariittltr, In (‘omlnozx TNe {Er-idol: Isaac'- Discourse. :11! n/ On The Wrong Sront. Undoubtedly Real b “WIN a Shun}; prospect of a at this paint the observer fmm the Scene as qulckly as In we; went and stood in the enor» mous interior, in which 6000 persons may sit on any day, and 10,000 can he seated if stools are brought in. Not even Henry Ward Beecher's Old Ply- mouth Church is more plain and bare. It is just a great hall with a wide gallery around the three sides, with little wooden posts which look like marble, to support the gallery; with hattalions of pews 1111 the floors, and a gigantic organ at one end rising above the greatest choir space I ever haw in "There never' was a building like it in the world," said the bishop. “It was Brigham Young’s idea." "Yet a vaster thought," said Prof. Barnard, "is that the Milky Way, thickly studded as it is with giant stars, and resplendent lights and mag- nitudes, shows that every star has back of it a luminous background of possibly milliuns of sums ; and the black spaces of my negatives, which presumably show the vault :of empty space, in reality represent billions of miles of the universe, which a longer exposure of the plates would probably people with infinite suns, each with its train of planets, surging with the throb of life and responsive to the control of law '8 -N. Y. Sun. on the infinite shores in matter of comparison do not, show larger on his plates than the thousandth of an inch in diameter, while movements of mighty orbs at the appalling velocities of hundreds of miles per second are slower in the telescope than the creep- ing of the hour: hand on a small clocks face. Prof. Bernard's plates are the most complete and satisfactory ever under- taken, for, besides being an eminent and competent observer, he has been a photographer from childhood. Making photographs of the Milky Way inter- ests him more than any other work he has undertaken, and the work has been fruitful in unlooked-for directions. It was while doing thif labor that he noticed certain displacements and lights which led to the discovery of many comets. The photographs of suns so large that ours is a grain of sand "I do not believe I have half finished, my photographs, and it will require three years to complete them, for it is tedious labor which often requires many hours' exposure at favorable times, aided by a delicate, manipula- tion of fine instruments. At the conclusion of my labors I believe an estimate may be made, and I think these little specks will prove to be, say 500 millions of suns. You must know that no known clockwork will move the instrument so as to keep a given star in one position, so the fi11gers must be used to adjust the camera. Fur- thermore, we have to wait long forjust the proper conditions for this work." “I have been at work oil my photo- graphs. about two years, and I think I have found forty or fifty gmups of nehulosity supposed to belong to the infant, stages of world-making, accord- ing to the nebular hypothesis." Prof. Barnard did not like to make an approximate number of stars in the Milky Way. Finally, however, he said '. “How [um-1y nebulous groups have you discovered in the Milky Way to date Y" he was asked. Prof. Barnard then exhibited three photographs of the comet which he discovered in October. The first showed the nucleus quite diffused and the tail split in two sections. A nega- tive made tsventy-four hours later thowed the head contracted, the tail shorter, and the .two sections closer tngether. Strangely, another photo- graph forty-eight hours later showed the tail elongated and the head con- densed, giving evidence of a growth of many millionsof miles in the, tail in the two days which elapsed between the photographs. us a quite clear delineation of the Milky Way, nebulm, and comets. Some of the negatives I have in this little case, show us the growth and change of comets and nebulie in a most satisfac- tory way.!' H. five minutes' dry-plate exposure. We Pstimnte pretty accurately that the Lick “lust-ope, shows 200,000,000 stars. ()f cums: you know that photography catches stars that the telescope does not reveal. The greatest trevelations nuw coming to astronomers come alo ty,' the line of stellar and nebular phoeo- graphy. Modern methods in astmn- omium plmtugruplly are such as togivc A Sun rupurtm- recently spent an evening in St. Louis with Prof. E. E. llle'uzml (If Lick (ulrswirttory. Prof. Barnard is the (liscm'ort-r of sixteen mnurts, and he lwzu's tlu‘ lopututiun (If being mm of the koom‘st. of the 011ng eyed sum-chum of the heavens. He is yet 'rt young man], and he is enthusias- tie in the work he is now pursuing 7- phutugmphiu; the Milky Way. Uri 11 .le iusvstigattrrs am usually 1'f'ly,' (awful to mukv‘ no slumun'ut-s concerning their \vurk which facts do not hem- out, and Prof. Barnard was my exuvption to the rule. Whert asked huw many suns there were in the Mil, ky1(Way, he replied: "The old best hunks said the Milky Way pruhalxly enutuiued 20,000,000 suns, but I can photugmph mare than that number in STARS OF THE MILKY WAY. 3410.00041on Mm»: “All: In The Mormon Tabernacle “ml Ptanpth nnd Comets to Mnicll. Bishop Preston. seated with me in the echo-haunted hall, then told me what I would see were it, Sunday. In the choir space I would see 300 trained singers and the organist. At the top of the terraces of benches would sit President Wilford Woodruff (the Brig- ham Young of to-day), an aged man who knew the founders of the Church, was long an Apostle, and now is "Pre- . siding High Priest I, He has two l counsellors, and all three compose what is called the first Presidency of the Church. Next below-one step down --1 would see such of the Twelve Apostles as might be then in in Salt Lake City and their President. These, I was told, are gifted eloquent preach, ers and theologians. Then would be seen on lower tiers the 'Seveaties,' who now number 100 quorums of seventy ministx rs each Every Seventy has seven Presidents, who are the, directors of the group. The seven First Presidents of the Seventies are the directors of all the Seventies in the world. They are ministers, Spreaders of the gospel. Their work is that of the Apostles, who are too few in number to do what is required, and therefore have this assistance. Next below would be seen, on a Sunday, the Presidents of Stakes-a stake being what we call a county. These diocesan ruleFs have spiritual control over all the bishops, whom they instruct and direct. Next would come the Eighties, or elders, of whom there is a host. They are often called upon to preach, and are preparing to become "Seven. ties," or full-fledged preachers. Next would be seen the Presiding Bishops in charge of the temporal affairs of the Church. The Presiding High Priest, his two counsellors, the Apostles, and the Presiding Bishop are the general off1cers of the Church. On each side of these terraced platforms was an err. closure, railed oft. One was for the Bishops of Wards, and the other for High Councillors and High Priests. Ending the. series of departments, between the leaders and plain saints, was the communion table, on which the bread and Miter rest every Sun- day.-- Julian Ralph, in Harper's Weekly. The steamer Thus, which sailed for Europe from New York on Tuesday, took out 83 400,000 in gold and $99,- 000 in silver. bit A 1liltl1 stood at the end of the Church. He said ", “Go up in the gal- ltuy and walk to the other end of the building. It is 250 feet, long and 140 feet It irlv, yet when I whisper you will hear nu», so perfect are the, acoustic pioportivs of the building. I walked the length of the church. My foot- steps “ow repented so many times in echoes chat the vererhtuution sounded like " drunnner's "oluvdl--almost as if 'twas n. regiment a-marching. From where I stood iLt last the 1mm who had spoken looked like a boy. He held up his hand. “Answer me in a natural tone when I speak to you. I am goin,g to whisper." (Then the whisper Mine distinctly, "Can you hear me whisper I am gnrin,gttrltvrpapirn m this altar rail, see if you hear it.") He held the pin two inches above the mil and dropped it. I heard it trs if-as I never supposed a pin could make itself heard a foot away. "And now," said the man, "see and hear what I do now.” He rubbed his hands together, and a sound like a loud rustle of silk floated through the hall. Afterwards I sat by that amiable and ingenious man, and saw him go through the performance for others. The only trick was in the building. There's Nothing m, Like new a church. And that, in turn, a terraced series of platinum down to the main floov, like broad but short staircase. REFUSE CHEAP IMITATIONS b, 3' IT DOES AWAY WITH BOlLiNG HARD RUBBING BACKACHES SORE HANDS 4P% R, " ik v, " " i& vi EP ' ‘1 LET ANOTHER WASH‘ DAY GO BY WITHOUT TRYING Sunlight is above loading ', a very