The Mineola Monitor (Mineola, Tex.), Vol. 11, No. 52, Ed. 1 Saturday, September 22, 1888 Page: 2 of 8
eight pages : ill. ; page 20 x 14 in.View a full description of this newspaper.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
M t C. AH MUO.
JiiM ii little v«• r ago
Vou « em ull to me:
liven yet 1 scincely know
Huw such things can 1)9.
T)i I vou mono It all the timet
Wcii! vou false or true!
Ik Ii chuugK of place or clime
'lliut lias ultcrcil you!
DM vou think to love me still i
I), J your fancy (stray I
■ DhI vou c Ii a ll tr <: ngaiiiht your will
When you went uwuyl
Do you still remember this,
Many in lien apir t <
All! you left your cureless kiss
Printed on my lieur'.
ILIt'le did your soul divine
That tho year woulil sen
Vour dear heart, close knit to mine,
Drill away Iroiu rue.
Viil I dream you brave unit true;
Through Hie mints of pain
tstill 1 stretch my bunds to you
Till we meet ugain.
Just a year ago!
All! tilV eye* are wet!
Cruel love! do you know
1 can ne'er forget I
-Cfc<(m4e/V« Jnunnil.
Barren Honors.
Have you ever known poverty? O,
*iy roaiier. I liavo, tho saddest paver-
.w of nil, which tries to keep up ap-
jMsarunce*. My mother was left early
*. widow, with livo childrou, all girls.
Wo inherited nothing from our well-
a jrii ancestors,save well-formed nosos,
mil ilo liands, and low, cultivated
raiocs. My«iiiothor was a proud and
■tiKimgoous womun, an I if I am foreed
:<> itiijitito blitiue l>o Iter, let tho reader
sever imagine that 1 am ungrateful for
:tc« love and euro which slio gavo to
my childhood, or unmindful of tho tor-
•fi<ile temptation which assailed her.
.■ « scarce was money wiih us that wo
•MM'lvleiu nod to r se frjin a daintily-
served dinner cruoly hungry, and
t:ii n,:uid re-darn our spotlessly clean,
..Hiougli simple dross, I'oor mother,
net's was :i stern rule, but I think of
■t.M long hours during which she play-
s«! the part of housokoepor, gover-
aess and seamstress uud marvel at
*er strength of mind aud body.
We lived in a country village, for
Htny city residence would have been bo-
,roud our purse, and notwithstanding
poverty had the entree of every groat
iouso in the country. If mamma sel-
t'oui availed herself of such privileges
B was that no decent clothes were
forthcoming wherewith sho might
xlothc herself and us.
When I was 17 I was invited to
«yeud a few mouths with our father's
iMJttsin, a Mrs. Deaumout, who lived in
great style in Londou. Sho was that
Aiosl sotlish of beings, a hypochon-
driac. but to drive in ilydo l'ark, or
*vcn l'ogeut l'ark, was bliss to mo,
*.nd when I had sullied my face into an
txprossiou meant deeply sympathetic
£ felt frco to turn but an inattentive
■ ar to my companion's long list of
•"sill king sensations" nnd sudden
ttpasms, ' Willi which according to her
wn account, sho was constantly and
mysteriously seized. That I might do
.fe«r some credit, Mrs. Beaumont or-
Jiarcd a suitable outfit for me, and line
dollies and good food soon transform-
i 4 mo from a pale, stooping, dark-eyed
■ta-ip of a girl, into a tall, upright,
'tandsome young woman. She was too
fcopelessly sunk in self to observe tho
change, and it was not until her fav-
orite nephew came on his annual visit
.hat the admiration which his young
Jace too plainly showed, openod her
f.yes to tho fact that I was that dau-
nperous specimen of humanity—a pen-
niless bounty.
A scene was troublesome, tliereforo
my hostess contented herself with do-
'.'•iar.ng iiersolf very much worse, and
.srdoring her doctor to prescribe sou-
tur. Jack Honuuiont was requested to
i«ocompany Iter to the Isle of Wight,
.■Mid I was packed oil' homo. 1 shall
.never forgot my mother's start of sur-
P;irisu when she saw tlio change iu my
Hippearance. All that evening situ ro-
-Mained very thoiighllul, and 1 began
'«• fear thill mv unexpected return was
.iatilly welcome, until two days later,
when, with her sweetest smile, siie iu-
riormed mo that 1 was to put on one of
my most becoming dresses, and be-
tiivu my pretliest as slio expected tin
aid friend to luncheon. Mv younger
tMHlcrs were ordered oil'to partake of si
.jold dinnur in the sehool-room, wh le
•all tilings completed, with a view to
mpress our guest with the idea that
wo fared sumptuously every da\\
•tity mother and 1 awaited Lord Silu-
rian iu lIu! drawing room. 1 knew him
to io one of tho oldest, as to title, of
Kngliiud's peers, and I had hoard a
tvli.apnr that mamma might have been
• in is countess had her youthful beauty
foeou made more attractive by tho liuii-
Ired thousands of pounds sterling
•which the lady that ho eventually
jiiiairwd had brought him.
Hi- eami', a grim-faced, still'old gen-
t'Joiiittti, who put up a double eyeglass
rvnd scautied me elosoly. A glance of
nattltttil intclligouce passed between
mi a mill a and his lordship, which did
not tend to put me til inv ease. How-
•iTVer, 1 smiled and talked as well ns I
oould, with a beating heart. Aftor
"tincheoii I was ordered oil" for a walk
<xviih the others, nnd that evening my
mother kissed me, saying: "Lor.! S I-
urian will bring his son, Lord Trenton,
•So call on Wednesday.'' There was
-something iu hor look and tone that
«nt mo to my bud with a "sudden
•sinking" of heart, much more real
Chan any of poor Cousin Beaumont's.
What need to dwell on the wretched
lotuils of the next few weeks. Lord
Trenton came, saw, and, as it eventu-
ally proved, conquered. I though' him
. uiost vacant youth, but my mother
cttxplaiued that he was mv-li struck
with me, nnd "such a dea:, simple shy
jmv, notwithstanding his great wealth
:?tnd higii position."
I made a bravo tight, for I was no
Iph'gouia,but mother's storn reminder
cf all I owed Lor, of tho wrotched fu-
Uiro which opened before my four
young sinters, of tho long struggle
with stemming poverty which had
•made up the sutu total of her life,
ilituilly wore out my desperate opposi-
tion, and I burned the half dozen dried
tJowers Jack Beaumont had given me.
and received congratulation of the
county on my eluvaiion to the rank of
u futuro countess. Mother, triumphant,
wrote Announcing my speedy mnr-
riago to Mrs. Beaumout, and st 11 Jack
made no sign.
Tlio wedding dav enmo, nnd 1 had
socn my bridegruom but twice. On
these occasions his father and mamma
had been in the room. Lady Sduriau I
had not seen at all; her husband
brought me a magnificent tiara, neck-
lace, ear-rings aud bracelets of dia-
monds—the Silurian diamonds were
famed—uud regetted that his wife was
too ^roal an invalid to present llicui in
I orson
I have small recollection of the cer-
emony, but 1 remember that my father
in-law bent over and guided his son'
hand when ho signed the registry,
laughing,and call utr him a nervous fel-
low. 1 wrote my maiden name, Olivo
Chase,for the last time, anil immediate
ly after 1 was hurried into a carriage
and, accompanied by my father-in-law
aud husband, began the twenty-mile
drive which brought us to Limestone
Towors, the home of the Silurian fain
ily.
During the wliolo of tho drive Lord
Grenton never opened Ii s Lps. His
father made few remarks concerning
the weather, offered me sandwiches
and sherry,and never took liise^es off
his beloved son until that individual,
muttering something to me unin-
tellig.blo, sank into a profound slum
ber.
A host of servants lined tho hull
through which 1 passed on niy hus-
band's arm; but the aspnet of tho
towers struck mo with a cold dread. I
was thankful when Lord Silurian inti-
mated that my presence at the dinner
table would not be expected, and that
my introduction to my inothor-in-law
would take place the following morn-
ing.
1 in ado a hasty dinner alone, in ono
of tho magn'licent rooms which had
been set apart for me,and slipping on a
gorgeous wrapper 1 tried to forget
my woes in llio pages of some of my
favorite books. Ere long my tired head
fell back on the sofa cushion uud I
slept.
1 awoko with a cry, and a sense of
terror. A number of wax lights shod a
soft radiance over the handsome room,
tlio perfume of rare ilowors filled the
air, and bending over the couch on
which 1 lav, his hot broath fanning my
chock, was the man 1 had married,
with an expression oil his face and in
his ovil, shifty eyes, which God grant
1 may never soo on any human face
again. For a moment 1 was paralyzed
with a fooling of sickening terror, then
1 rose from the sofa and moved towards
tho table.
"Where aro vou going?" he cried.
"Not so fast. Don't you know you are
mino now?"
In an instant ho had mo in his arms,
and was holding mo so tightly clasped
in liis embrace that I panted for breath;
while ho went on; "Ves, you're mine,
safe enough, now. I've got away from
that old devil who's boon standing be-
tween us. lie thiuks I'm safe with
Black. IIu's a deep oue. O, 1 know
all about it; ho wants an heir. Yos,
you're mine, and 1 can kiss you untill
you die, and tear your great, sad, black
eyes out, or pinch your white llesli, or
bito you until the rod blood comcs and
streaks your beautiful limbs."
One struggle I made, only to find my-
self held nil the firmer," and borne
swiftly to the coucit from which I had
risen, while ho held mo down with his
strong arms, and floated over me, with
tho same fearful expression which had
met mv gaze ou awakening.
"S iall I tell you how I made tho old
dev.I got you for mo? 1 told him that
1 didn't want you, that I'd do what I
was t 'ld, and never speak to you exi
eoptuhen I was all right. 1 ant all
right sometimes, d'yo know. That's
tlio w;. / I got you; and now I can tear
you limb from limb if I like," and lie
lauglici! with his head pressed close to
my bre nt, the unending, joyless laugh
ot mini ioss.
What I did I know not; I think that
i praye a despairing, voiceless urav•
I might not lose consciousness
there,or die in his loathed cm-
I tried to scream aloud, but at
sou ml his hand covered my
or, that
then an
brace,
the lir-
moutli.
"•No!
cunn ll<:
vacant :
no!" ho cried, with till tile
>f madness in his sometime
ice. "we wanl no ono hero.
You kin w that vou aro mr wife, my
own. I've never had anything of my
own before, and I'll show ihom how I
treat ni\ belongings."
"Oh," 1 gasped, "if you aro mortal,
and not a friend, take m i lo Lady
Silurian; take nie to your mother." •"
My words called forth tho wildest
laughter.
"Lady Silurian." ho cried, "you'll
never see her, she's mail, as mad,ns a
halter; curso her. that's where 1 got it
from. WVr're all mail but that old
devil of i father of nrne, and lie'd bo
mud too if ho was not llio devil. Your
mother wanted tho money, you see,
and she's got il; she's got £50,000, anil
I've got yon. Tho old man didn't
care if I had a wife or not, not ho, the
old villain, the old scoundrel, tlio old
fool; but iie wants an heir. I'm going
iv w.fe, beautiful Olive, but
ling to have his heir, O, not
to have •
lio's lint .
much:"
Tho lo
my very
gun to Si*
the snare
had si ill *
linn iu II
: which he cast on mo froze
lood, but by I his timo I lie-
all too clearly the iiutmo of
nto which I had fallen. 1
iiougli strength left to look
i eve, steady my trembling
voice nnil say, "If vou want to unuoy
him just > ike me to him and suv that
you'll hnvii nothing to do with his
plan; tlia' you want to choose youi
own wfe '
1 tried to rise as I spoke, but he
clasped my garments firmly iu both
hands.
"Oh, but I won't do that, he'd tnke
you from mo. 1 know tho old follow
too woll for that."
"Only let me go to him and tell him
that wo refuse to bo made his victi.m,"
I urged.
1 niovd forward sis I spoke, but lir
seized my dress, tonring it from oil
me, and dragging mo to uiy knees he
placed one hand over my mouth,'ami
made his tooth mark in my white,
round shoulder.
The pain was so intonsa that I al-
most fainted; my knees gavo way aud
1 fell to the lloor.
"lit tjDill" liu i;l.uu, "uuiid tilrenil
'J he exclamation gave mo an idea:
what if I were to feign death? 1 acted
on it. and presently heard him mov-
ing about tiie room, muttering to him-
self. When i knew him lo be at sonic
distance 1 half opened my eves, and
stnv lo my horror that he appeared to
be trying to open the window. Sud-
denly he desisted, and 1 hoard him
murmur, "No," this side won't da 1
want her to fall into I ho moat and
then lie won't find her. The bed-room
window's tho ono."
Again lie approached mo. I hastily
closed my e.es.
"Dead, as dead ns nnlis," lie sa d, iu
a triumphant whisper, Agttiu lie
moved ttwny aud this timo lie turned
his steps toward tlio bed-room which
adjoined.
T mo was every tiling. I sprang to
Uiy fool, gained the door which opened
into the hall, as 1 supposed, and found
myself iu a long, dark corridor. Down
lliis I ran until 1 reached a narrow
s!a reaso leading upward. Agoui/. ng
fear lent wings to my foot. 1 gained
tlio upper lloor, and spying an open
door 1 enlorcd and crouched behind the
door. My terror was somewhat abated
when 1 know tiio room lo be occupied.
Some ono moved heavily on the bed
and a man's gruff vo ce asked, "Who's
there?"
I made no answer, for in that mo-
ment my determination was made. 1
would manage lo leavo tlio house un-
seen, aud eseapo forever- from the vile
and degrading influence of such a
marriage as had been forced upon me.
Tho law, I know, would free mo. but
lo the law 1 could not resort without
exposing iny mother's quilt.
1 was evidently in tho bedroom of
ono of tlio mou-sorvants, and ho was
fast nslotfp again, as heavy snoring tes-
tified. Evidently, too, I had not been
followed. Either my escape alarmed
the wretched lunatic or 1 hud passed
from his iniiiil.
With tho litst gliiupso of dawn 1
crawled from tlio room and made my
wav towards a broader stairway than
that which I hail ascended the previous
night. I wont swiftly down a long
corrdior which ran tlio length of tho
opposiLe wing of tlio house, hoping to
find sonio maid-servants door ajtir, for
it was impossible to leave tlio house
in my present dross, or, rather, un-
dress.
I'ortuno favored mo.. At the. far end
was a large closet, or, mora properly,
small room, around tho wails of which
were liuug tho servants' Sunday
dresses. 1 appropriated one of these,
black shawl, and plain bonnet, tlio
vo 1 of which would servo to mask mo
well.
I felt no fear as I glided down the
llirco long flights of oaken steps which
led to tho back entrance hall, for I was
convinced that Lord Trenton had es-
cape I from his keeper, Binck, aud that
finding mo ilown lie would return to
iiis own apartments. In ten minutes I
gained the high road, which skirled
tho park walls, and sat out relieved
and bravely for my three miles walk to
M——, where I.could tako tho curliost
train for London. Hero 1 knew 1 could
disposo of ono of my plainest rings to
onablo to pay my fare to the great city;
perhaps tlio best hiding place in all the
world.
In M— I posted ono line to my moth-
er. "When 1 can forgive you," i wrote,
"you sluill see tiio again."
My disappearance was hushed up;
but 1 afteiwards learned that Lord
Silurian, my mother, aud one other
moved heaven and earth lo find mo.
Two handsome rings, by which I
might .have boon traced, 1 gold immedi-
ately I arrived in London aud loug
before the money 1 thus gained was
exhausted 1 had been introduced by a
young womon who lodged in the same
house with mo to a manufacturer of
artificial Ilowors. Ho gavo mo work
and thus I lived, if such an exist-
ence may bo called living, for three
years.
Si range lo say my landlady camo
from shire, and through hot- 1
learned llio gossip concerning the Sil-
ur an family. I learned that tho hoir
was nbt generally supposed lo lo
"queer" at times, and always dull,
briiial, and heavy, that his unfortunate
mother had been mad for years; and
that some poor young lady littd finally
married Lord Kenton,hut had left him
the next day never to return.
Ono evening, more weary and down-
hearted than usual, 1 was dragging my
tired limbs slowly homo ward, after
tho day's work, when a passing litiii-
soni stopped suddenly, from which
sprung a young man, who seized my
arm, crying "Thank (iod, Olive, you
are found at last."
II was Jack Beaumout. Jack, good,
dear, handsome ns ever.
"O, Jack," 1 cried, breaking down,
and sobbing pitifully, "tell 1110 all
about llicui, mamma and tho girls,
only don't tell them where I am else
they will want me to go back to Lord
Silurian, and I can never forgive hiui,
never."
"Old scoundrel! I should think not
But lie can't molest vou dear. Olive;
now that h s miserable son is dead, ho
has no more authority over you than 1
have."
"Dead Jack," I cried.
"Yes, three months ago. Ah, Olive,
naughty git'l to hide from me. If you
knew how 1 have suffered."
On mv Uventy-lirst birthday I became
Mis, John Beaumont. My mother to
this day thinks herself the tiggrioved
party; and lias to remember that my
purchase money enabled hor lo tinil
suitable husbands for all her girls bo-
fore she ca-n forgive me for refusing to
profit bv her excellent bargain.—.
EltZ'i M. Moore m Weekly HV a msm.
Utterly Discouraged,
llobson—So tho cable car company
has discharged your brother? •
Jobsou—Yes. The poor fellow is
in an unfortunate mental condition,
too.
llobson—How so?
Jobson—Lost his grip, you see.—San
Francisco Examiner.
Iu the While Mountains.
Miss Begonia—1 love music; do you
piny 011 any instrument, Mr. Smith?
Smith (who acted as college-waiter
Inst summer, absout-mindodlv)—Only
the gong, — Time.
'MAKE A CHAIN."
SACRAMENTAL DAY AT THE
TABERNACLE.
liio Brocii'yn Divine Discourses to Thous-
ands of Cuminuuicanis Upon tho At!-
Abso bing unci Iastruetiv-j Them'', "The
Cham of Influences"-The Needs of Earl/
Training Graphically Portrayed.
UliuOKi.TK, Soptcmter 10.—To-day wns
saiTutiiciilttl day at the Tabernacle, and the
uuji'o than four thousand communicant
member) wero Joined by thousands from ull
parts of 11:1s country and from other luud* iu
the sacred commemoration. The ltev. T De-
Wilt Tutuiairo, D. D., preached from Ezekiel
vil. 33: ".Make u chaint" ilu said:
At Bcliool and iu college in announcing the
uiochunlcul powers, we gloi'llfed the
lever, tho pullor, tlio inclined plane, the
screw, the axle anil tlio wheel, but my text
culls us to study the philosophy of the chulu.
These linUs of metal, oue with another, at-
tracted the old Biblo authors, and wo hear
the chalu rattle and see Its coll all tlio way
through from Genesis to Revelation, flashing
as un adornment, or restraining as iu cap-
tivity, or holding In conjunction as iu case of
machinery. To do him honor, I'huraoh hung
a chalu of gold about tbe uocic of Daniel. The
high priest had on his breast-plate two
chains of gold. On the camcls. necks as the
Ishmaelitcs drove up to Gideon, Jingled
clialus of gold.
The Bible refers to tho Church as having
such glittering adornments, saying: 'Thy
iicck is comely with clialus of gold." Un the
other bund, a tlialu means cuptivltr. David
tho psalmist, exults that power had beeu
■given over his enomics, "to bind their kings
with clialus." The old missionary apostle
cries out: "For the hope of Israel, 1 am
bouud with this chain." in the prison whore
Peter Is Incarcerated, you hear oue
day a great crash at the falling oil
ol' Ills chains. Sit. John suw au nngcl
conic down from Heaven to m inacle the potv-
ors of darkness, and having "a great chain
in his h.iod," anil the fallen iingcis are repre-
sented us ' reserved in everlasting chains,"
while I11 my text for the arrest aud llmitatlou
of the iniquity of ills time, Kzeklal tbuudirs
out: "Make a chain I"
What 1 wish to Impress upon myself and
upon you Is the strength Iu right and wrong
directions, of consecutive forces, the superior
power ot a chain of nilluences above oue lu-
ilueuce, the great advantage of a congeries
of links above one link, and 111 all family gov-
ernment anil In all effort to rescue others aud
In all attempt to slop iniquity, take the sug-
gestion of my text aud make a chain!
That which conta ns the greatest impor-
tance, that which enc'.oacs the most tremend-
ous opportunities, that which of earthly
things is most watched by other worlds, that
which has beating against Its two sides ull the
eternities, is the crudie. The grave is nothing
Iu importance compared wllh it, for that Is
only u gully that we step across In a second,
but the craillc has within it a new eternity,
Just boru aud never lo cease. When three
or four years ago the Ohio Itlvor overflowed
lis banks and thu wild freshets swept dowii
with lliein harvests and cities, one day was
found floating on the bosom of the waters a
cradle with a child iu it all unhurt, wrapped
up snug nnd warm, aud its blue eyes looking
into the blue of the open heavens. It was
mcutioned us something extraordinary. But
every cradle is, with its young pusscnger,
floating 011 the swift currents of the centuries,
deep calling to deep, Ohios uud St. Law-
rences and MissUslputs of Inllueuce, bear-
ing il onward. Now what shall be done with
this new life recently launched! Teach him
1111 evening pruyerl That Is Important, but
not enough, lleur him as soon as he
can recite some gospel hymu or catechism!
Tlint Is important, but not enough. Evoiv
Siibliuth afternoon read him u Bible sturv I
'1 hat Is Important, but not enough, Ouce in
a while a lesson, .once Iu a while a prayer,
once In a while a restraining Influence! All
these are Important, but not enough. Each
oue of these influences is onlv a link, and it
will not hold him iu thu tremendous cmcr-
geucies of life. Let it be constant Instruc-
tion, constant prayer, constunt application
of > ood influences, a long line of cousecuiive
impressions, reaching from his first year to
his tilth, and from his fifth year to his tenth,
and from his teuth year lo his twentieth.
"i\lnke a chulu I"
Spasmodic education, paroxysmal disci-
pline, occasional fidelity, amount to nothlug.
You can as easily hold an anchor by one link,
as hold a child to the right bv Isolated uua
intermittent faithfulness. The examplu must
connect with the instruction. The conversa-
tion must combine with tho actlous. The
weekday cousistuncv must conjoin with the
Sunday worship. IIiivo family prarcrs by all
means; but be notulniit and inconsistent and
unreasonable in your household aud your
family prayers will be a blasphemous farce.
80 great In our times are the temptations of
young men to dissipation, and young women
10 social follies, that it Is most important
that the llrst eighteen years ot their life be
charged with 11 religious power that will hold
them when they get out. ot the harbor of
home lino the stormy ocean of active life.
There Is such a thing as impressing children
so powerfully with good, that slxtv years will
have no more power to efface It than sixty
minutes. What 11 rough tune that voung man
has 111 doing wrong, carefully nurtured ns he
was! Ills fiitlier nnd mother have been dead
for years, or over in Scotland, or England, or
Ireland; but 1 hoy have slooil In the doorwayof
every dram-shop that he en tired, and under
the chandelier of every house of dissipation,
saying: ".Mv son, this Is no place for you.
Have you forgotten the old folks! Don't you
reeounlzo these wrinkle*, and this stoon in "the
shoulder, ami this tremulous hand! Go home,
mv hoy, go home! Bv the God to whom we
consecrated you, by the criullo I11 which we
rocked you, by the grass-grown graveftln Ihe
old country churchyard, l y the heaven where
we nope yet to meet you, go home! Go
home, my bov, go home!" And some Sunday
you will be nuprhed to lind that
young man suddenly asking for the prayers
of the church. Some Sunday you will sec
him at thu Hiieriimunt anil perhaps drinking
from the same kind of chalice that the Old
folks drank out of vears ago when they com-
memorated the sufferings of the Lord. Yes,
my lull, you do not have euch fun hi siu as
you seem to have. I know what spoils your
fun. You cannot shake off tlio influences of
tlioS'j prayers long ago offered, or of those
kind admonitions. You cannot make them
go away, and you feel like saving; "Father,
what are you doing here? Mother, why do
\ou bother me with suggestions of those old-
en timet.!" Hul they will not go away. They
will push vou hack from your evil paths,
though tliev have to come down from their
sli tilug homes In heaven and stand in the
very gates of hell,end their hacks scorched of
the tlery blast, and with their Imnd on vour
shoulder, and their breath on your brow, and
their e esjooklng straight Into yours,they will
aav: "We have come to take \ou home, O,
son of tnuiiv anxieties!" At last that young
tniin turns through the consecutive Influences
of a pious parentage, who out of prayers
uud ii iclit.es Innumerable, made a chain.
That Is the chain that pulls mightily this
morning on live hundred of you. Yon
may be too proud to shed a tear, and vou
may, to convince others ot vour Impcrturbll-
ily, smile to your friend beside vou, but tliere
is not so tuuch power in au Alpine avalanche
after It lias slipped for a thousand feet and
having struck a lower cliff is taking its second
hound for llfteen hundred feet more of
plunge, as there ie power in Ihe chulu that
nulls you this moment toward God and Christ
and Heaven. Oh! the almighty pull of the
Png chain ot er.rly gracious influences!
But all people between thirty and forty
years of age, yes, between forty nnd fifty—-
aye, between fifty nnd sixty yenrs, and all
septuagenarians as well, need a surrounding
conjunction of good influences. In Sing
Sing, Auburn, Moyamenslng, and all the
other great prisons, are men nnd women who
went wrong In inlil life and old age. We
need lit011ml us a cordon of good influences.
We forgot lo apply the well-known rule that a
chain is 110 stronger than its weakest link. If
the chain be made up of a thousand links and
nine hundred aud ninety-nine are strong, but
cue Is weak, tlic clialu'wlll be In danger ot
breaking at that one weak inn;. We nn.y i,u
strong in a thousand excellences and vet have
one weakness which eudniiuors us. That is
tho reason that wo sometlmei nee men d.s-
tlngiiishcd for a whole round of virtuos col-
lapse and go down. The weuk link Iu thu
otherwise stout chain gave way under tho
pressure.
'ihe llrst chain bridge was built iu Scot-
land. Walter Scott tells how tho French imi-
tated it in a bridge across the river Seine. But
there wns ono wenlt point lu that chain
bridge. There was a middle bolt that wus of
l or material, but they did not know how
much depended on that middle bolt of tho
chain bridge. Ou tho opening doy a proces-
sion started, led 011 by the builuer of the
bridge; aud, when the mighty weight of the
procession was fairly ou it, the bridge broke
and proelp tatcd ihe multitudes. Tho bridge
was all right extent in that middle bolt. So
tho bridge of character may be made up of
mighty links strong enough to bold n moun-
tain; but If there be one weak spot, that one
point unlookcd-ufter may be Ihe destruction
of ever.tiling. And what multitudes have
gone down for ull time and nil eternity be-
cuiiso lu the chain bridge of their character
there was lacking a strong middle bolt. IIo
had but oue fault* and that was avarice;
hence, forgery, lie hud but one fault uud thut
was a burning thirst for lutoxleauts', hence,
his fatal debauch. Slio had but oue fuult anil
that an inordlnute fondness for dress, aud
hence her own and her husband's bankruptcy.
She had but oue fuult uud that u quick toin<
per; liuuce the disgraceful outburst. Whi^t
we all want is to liuvo put arouud us a strong
chain of good influences. Chrlstiuu associa-
tion is a link. Good literature is a Unit.
Church membership is a link. Habit of
prayer is a link. Scripture research is a link.
Faith in God is a link. Put together all the.*"
influences, Mulce a chain 1
Most excellent is It for us to get into com-
pany belter than ourselves. If we arc
given to telling vile stories let
us put ourselves among those who
will not abide such utterunco. If we are
stingy let us put ourselves umoug tlio churl-
table. If we are morose let us put our elvvs
among the good-natured. If we ure giveu to
tittle tattle let 11s put ourselves umoug thoie
who speak no HI of their neighbors. If wo
are despondent let us put ourselves among
tboso who make the best of things. If evil IS'
contagious, I am glad to say that good Is also
catching. People go up into the hill
country for physical health; bo If you would
be sli'bug in .your soul get yourself up off tho
lowlands into the altitudes of high morul as-
sociation. For many of the circumstances of
our life wo are not responsible. For our par-
entage wo ure not responsible. For the pl .co
of our nutlvlt.v, not responsible; for our feat-
ures, our stature, our color, not responsible;
for tbe family relation In which we wore born,
for our natural tastes, for our mental charac-
ter, not responsible. But we aro responsible
for the associates thai we choose and the
moral Influciiccs under which we put our-
selves. Character seeks au cou ilbrium. A,
B. Is a good man. Y. /. Is a bad man. Let
them now voluntarily choose each other's so-
ciety. A. B. will loose a part' ot his good-
ness and Y. Z. a part of bis budnoss, aud tlioy
will gradually approach encli other iu char-
acter and will Anally stand 011 the 6amc level.
Oue of the old puluters refused to lootc at
poor pictures becauso lie-suld it damaged his
style. A inns eiuii cannot afford to dwell
among discords nor cau n writer afford to per-
use books ot Inferior style, nor an architect
walk out among disproportloned structures.
And no man or woman was ever so good as to
be able to afford to choose evil associations.
Therefore 1 said, have it a rule of your life to
go among those bettor than yourselves. Can-
not lind them? Then what a pink of perfec-
tion you must be I When was your character
completed! What a misfortune for the suint-
ly aud angelic of heaven that they are not en-
joying Ihe Improving influence of your so-
ciety! Ab, if you cannot lind thos'o better
than yourself, It is because you are Iguorunt
of yourself. Woe unto you, Scribes a."1
Pharisees, hypocrites!
But. as 1 remarked In the opening,In sacred
and in all styles of literature a chalu means
not only adornment and royalty of nature but
sometimes captivity. And 1 suppose there
are those iu that senso deliberately aud per-
sistently* making a chain. Now here Is a
young man of good physical health, good
manners and good education. How shall ho
put together enough links to make a chain for
the down-hill roadl I will give blin some
directions. First let him smoke. If he can
not stand cigars let him try cigarettes. I
think cigarettes will help him on this road a
little more rupldly because the doctors sav
there is more poison lu them, and so he will
be helped along faster, and I have the more
confidence in proposing Ibis because about
fifty ot the first voung men of Brooklyn dur-
ing tbe last year were, according to the doc-
tors' reports, killed by cigarettes. Let him
drink light wines llrst,'' or ale or lager, and
gradually he will bo able to take something
stronger, and as all stvlus of strong drink are
more and more adulterated, his progress
will be facilitated With the old-time drinks
a man seldom got delirium tremens before
thirty or forty years of age; now be can get
the madness by tbe timi lie Is eighteen. Let
him p'av cards, enough money nut up always
to add interest to the game. If the father
and mother will play with him that will help
by wav of countenancing tlio habit. And
it will bo such 11 pleasant thing to think ovor
lu tho dsy of judgment wlicli the parents give
account for the elevutcd manner in which
they have reared their children. Every pleas
ant Sunday afternoon take a carriage ride and
slop at the hotels on either side the road for
Sabbadi refreshments. Do not let the old-
fogy prejudices against Sabbath breaking
dominate you. Have a membership in soma
club where libertines go and teil about their
victorious Bins, unil lauuh us loud us any of
them In derision of those who belong lo the
sume sex us your sister nnd mother. Pitch
your Bible overboard ns old-fashioned unil lit
only for women uud children. Rend till thu
mugniihie articles Unit put Christianity at
disadvantage, and go to hear all the lectures
Unit, malign Christ, who, tliev sav, Instead of
being the Mighty One lie pretended to be,
was un impostor and the implunter of a great
delusion. Go, 111 llrst out of curiosity, to sec
nil the houses of dissipation and then go be-
cuuse you have felt the thrall of their fasci-
nation. Getting along splendidly now!
Let ine see what further can I suggest In
that direction. Bicoine more delimit of nil
decency, more loud-mouthed In yourutheism,
more thoroughly alcoholized, nnd instead of
the small stakes that will do well enough for
games of cliunce in 11 ladles' parlor, put up
something worthy, put un more, put up all
you huvo. Well done! Yon have succeeded.
You 1111 vo made n chain—(lie tobacco habit
one link, the rum habit one link, the impure
club another link, infidelity another link,
Subbttth desocratiou another link, unclcunli-
iiess another I ink. nnd altogether tliev .make
a chain. And so there Is a chain on your
bund and a chain on your foot ami 11 chain on
your tongue and a chain on youreie and a
chain on your lirnln nnd 11 chain ou your
property mid a chain on your soul. Someday
you wake up uud you say: "I am tired of
this and I mil go ng lo get loose from this
shackle." You pound uwny with the
hummer of good resolution but can not
break the Ihniil. Your friends join you
In u conspiracy to hclti but fall exhausted
In the unavailing attempt. Now vou
begin, and with the writhing of a. Luo-
coon, try to break away, and the muscles
arc distended, nnd t he great beads of perspir-
ation dot your forehead, and tlie ores stand
out from the foekets, and with all the con-
centered energies of body, mind and soul
you attempt tu get loose but have onlv made
the chain sink deeper. All 1 lie ilev.ls that
encamp In the wine flask nnd the rum jug
and the decanter—lor each one bus a dcvli ot
Its own—come out and sit around you and
chatter. I11 some midnight you spring from
your couch nud cry: "I nin fast. O God, let
me loose! O ye powers of darkness, let me :
loose! Father and mother and brothers and
sisters, help me to get loose!" And youi
turn your prayer to blasphemy and then your,
blasphemy Into prayer, and to all the din und
uproar there Is played an accompaniment,
not an accompaniment by key and pedal, but
the accompaniment Is rattle and the rattle Is
that of u chain. For live years, for ten years,
for twenty years, you liavo beeu making n
chain.
But here 1 lake a step higher nnd tell you
tliere Is a power that can break any chain,
chain of bod.', chain of mind, chain of soul.
The fetters that tho bimmer of the Gospel
have broki u off, if piled together, would
make a mountain. Tho captives whom
Christ has set. free, If stood side by side,
would make an army. Quicker than a ship
chandler's furnace ever melted a cable,
qulckcr than a key ever unlocked * Laud-
calf, quicker fhau the bajooeU of revolution 1
pried opeu ibe Bastile, you may be liberate*
mid wade a free son or • free dsugburff
God. You bave ouly to choose beiVMm
serfdom and emancipation, between • chain
uud a coronet, between .Satan and God.
Malcu up your mind and make It up quick.
W hen the King of Sparta baa crossed~Uw
Hellespont aud was about to maNh
through Tbrace, be sent word to
the people In tbe different regions
asking them whether be should march
through their countries as a friend or an
enemy. "By ail means as a friend," snsw-
ered most of tbe regions, but the King of
Macedou replied: "I will take time to con-
sider it." "Then." sal|l the Klug of BparU:
"Let blm consider it, but meantime, we
march—we march." So Christ, our King,
gives us our choice between bis friendship
nnd Ills frown, and inuiiy of us bsve long
beeu considering what we lied better do; but
ineautiuio lie murcbed ou, nud our opportun-
ities are murchlug by. Aud we shall be the
loving subjects of Ills reign, or the victims
of our owu obduracy. So, I urge you to pre-
cipituncy, rather thau slow deliberation, aud
I write all over your soul tbe words of
Christ I saw Inscribed 011 the monument of
' 1'ilucess Elizabeth in tbe Islo of Wight, tbe
, words to which lier index finger pointed In
thu open Bible when she was fouuil dead in
her bed after a lifetime c/. trouble: ' Coma
unto Me, all ye who aro weary anil hcuvy
laden, aud I will give you rest." Is there a
drunkard here) You may, by tiie Savior's
grace have thut tire of thirst utterly exting-
uished. Is there adetrauder here! You may
You may be made as pure as the light,
be made a saint. Is tbero a libertine heiel
When a minister In au outdoor meeting In
Scotland wus eulogizing goodness, tin re
woro banglug around the edge of the audi-
ence some of tbe most depraved men and wo-
men, and tbe mluister said nothlug about
mercy for prodigals. And u depraved woman
cried out: "Your rope is not long enough
for the like of us." Blessed be God. our
gospel can fathom the deepest depths and
reach to farthest wauderiugs, and hero is a
ope that is long euough to rescue the worst:
'Whosoever will." .
But why tako cxtrcmo case?, when we all
have been or aro uow the captives of sin aud
death! Aud wo may through tho greut
Emancipator drop our shackles and take a
tiiroue. You have looked at- your bund and
arm only as bolng useful now, and a curious
piece of anatomv, but there is something
about your hand uud arm thut makes 1110
think they are an undeveloped wing. And it
you would know what possibilities are sug-
gested by that, usk the eagle that has looked
close Into the eye of the noonday sun; or usk
tho albatross thut has struck Its claw Into
the bluet; Jocks ot the tempest; or ask the
condor that this morning Is descending to the
highest peal; of Chlmboruzo. Your right band
and nriii aud your left band nnd arm two un-
developed wings, better get ready for the em-
pyroan. * «s
"ItiHO, my soul, ami stretch thy win*,
Tliy better portion traco,"
There have been chains famous in the
world's history, such as tiie chain which fas-
tened the prisoner of Cbillou to the pillar,
into tbe staple of which I have thrust my
baud, on the Isolated rock of the Lake of
Geneva; such as tbe chain which the Rus-
sian exilo clanks on bis way to the mines of
Siberia; sucb as the fliuln which Zenobls,
the captive queeu, wore when brought into
tiie presence of Aurellan. Aye, there have
been ruces iu chains, aud nations in chains,
and there has been a world In chains;
but Ihuuk God, tho last one of them shall
be broken, and under tho liberating
power of the omuipoteut Gosoel the shackles
shall full from the last nock and tbe last arm
and the last foot. But these shattered fetters
shall all be gathored up again from tbe dun-
geons aud the workhouses and the mines and
tiie rivers niid the ilelds, and they shall again
; be welded and again strung link to link, and
polished and transformed until this world
which bas wandered off and been a recreant
world and a lost world, sliairby that chain be
lifted und hung to tho throne of God, no
longer tbe Iron chain of oppression but the
golden chain of redeeming love. There let
this old runsomed world swing forever! Roll
on, ye years, roll on, ye days, roll od, ye
hours, aud hasten the glorious consumatloul
V
WIGS AND SWITCHES.
How They Are Alndo nnd Where tbe
Malt era Obtain Tlielr Material.
Noar Fifth avenue, on East Four-
teenth street, is a store which, though
small, gives room for several branches
of business that are not otherwise
closely connected. Thero is a carpet-
shaking and cravut-cleaning establish-
ment. a wig-maker and a dealer in
oplical and scientific instruments. A
reporter for tho New York Telegram,
while waiting for a last season's reju-
venated cravat, saw a man seated at a
table in the roar part of the store deft-
ly weaviiig small bunches of human
bair. t-
Before him, on a table, were two up-
right sticks about ono foot high, two
feet apart aud one incn thick. Be-
tween them wore stretched three black
threads. Near at hand was a bunch
of brown hair between two Inyers of
cloth held down bv Ihe bottom of an
old llat irou. Fulling three or four
hairs at a time from the exposed end
of the bunch, the operator skillfully
bunt tho ends over thu middle thread
and twisted the other slrands around
lliom, and so that another strand be-
came the 111 dillo one. The bunch was
tiie 11 bound down with while thread.
By continuing this work he gradu-
ally made a loug, thin fringe of hair,
which ho callcd a "weft." Tills was
afterward wound elosoly around a cord
about six inches .long, thus making a
thick bunch or switch. It took three
of tlicso bunches of short hair to make
one switch, and that was accomplished
by attaching 0110 by a longer cord so
that it commenced its career about
whore tho other loft oil".
Tho operator called attention to the
fact that this switch was of short hairs
only, about 8 or 10 inches in length.
"This," said ho, "is a cheap ono, scll-
iug for about $1.50, while this of the
sume color, but longer and all tho
hairs of nearly equal lengh, costs $7.
Those exquisite shades of light brown
cost $20 and $25, while this pale au-
burn is $30, and so, too, is this bright
red." /
"Thai's a charming color." said tho
reporter, "but aren't you afraid of an
tillnck of white horseP"
"No," said tho doalor; but to amuse
tin old lady customer tho other day I
put ono just liko It in the window nnd
told her that sho would see a while
horse beforo 1 got back to the other
side of the store. I hail scarcely turn-
ed my back from the window when tho
old lndv screamed with laughter and
shouted: 'There it is; there's the white
horse.' I turned and saw a coupe just
stopping in front of the door. The old
ludy bought that switch und took It
with her to amuso her friends bv at-
tracting to her parlor windows all tho
white horses 011 upper Fifth avenue."
"Where does your supply of hair
come from?" was asked.
"From Europe entirely, Thero is
not enough of the native Americnil
crop to supply even my small store.
It comcs from the peasants and con-
vents abroad. Tboso benullful pale
shades aro cbieflv from Norway nnd
Swodcn. The white is the most expen-
sive. It is mnde into three pull's a side
to adorn the heads of aristocratic old
ladies."
Tl
[
(
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
The Mineola Monitor (Mineola, Tex.), Vol. 11, No. 52, Ed. 1 Saturday, September 22, 1888, newspaper, September 22, 1888; Mineola, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth254251/m1/2/: accessed May 6, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Mineola Memorial Library.