p. 9 | Signs of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 42. (10/26/1904)

WHAT MAKES A TRAMP A TRAMP.

By Jack Hazle

[Jack Hazle, in The Pilgrim for September.]

The great cause to which we can attribute the existence of the hobo lies in an early lack of proper home training. It is a sad fact, but, nevertheless, a most painfully true one, that multitudes of parents imagine when they have fed and clothed a child properly that there their duty to him, themselves, and society is completed. Of course, they send him to school to be educated; but he is left to select his own standard of what is worthy and right. He is never taught that success is solely dependent upon faithful, consistent effort properly applied and concentrated. He isn't urged to early discover his own talents and capabilities; nor to choose that branch of the world's work for which he is adapted. He is never shown that the most lasting compensation and happiness in this world lies in the successes and remunerations which are earned by honest effort in the paths of strict duty and integrity. He sees only the sweat and grime and weariness of labor, and, comparing these with the apparent delights, pleasures, and easy existences of those whom he knows have a sufficiency of this world's goods, he draws false conclusions therefrom. He must become rich, and that soon, to escape the disagreeable features of life. Possibly he goes to work in a shop, under parental pressure. His distaste for this slow means of advancement increases to positive hate. He is a failure. He hasn't a chance in this "bum" old town. He imagines other places better; and feels he must seek these new, alluring pastures. He hasn't the money to pay his fare, but other men have used freight trains for vehicular purposes, why not he? He ultimately goes.

The first time he begs his bread he is ashamed, but an empty stomach is importunate, and will not be denied. He is also ashamed to go back home and confess failure, after his boastful assertions and promises. A few nights on the road, constantly on the alert for trainmen and police, in order to escape injury and arrest; the highly exhilarating intoxication of the wild night rides, and the succeeding resultant enervation; the evil associations of other tramps deeper in vice and degradation than himself, and the artifices of life on the road which he eagerly imbibes from their experience; the deadly lassitude and weariness, so necessarily the result of the irregular life he leads; acquisition of heretofore unknown vermin on his unwashed body; all these combine to destroy what little ambition and self-respect he has still remaining. The die is cast. The work is complete. He is a hobo for life; except he be rescued by some unaccountable vagary of unscrutable fate, or the revival of some dormant, good impulse which will lead to his reformation.

By long odds, the great causes of the major part of trampdom are those which induce a man to lose hold on his self-respect and the esteem of those with whom he is in daily contact, acting upon a sensitive, morbid nature. In this category I would include drink, the first arrest of some previously upright character; and unsuitable environment.

WELL STATED BY A SECULAR JOURNAL.

The old Springfield (Mass.) Republican—once Republican, now Democratic, in politics—has always been deemed a reliable representative of the times. In a recent issue it says: "There is a movement for evangelizing the people of the United States entertained, and now being furthered by many of the religious denominations which call themselves 'evangelical,' for some reason which does not appeal to every one." It then notes that neither in the Roman Church, nor in the Unitarian or Protestant Episcopal ranks, "is there a stir of special effort for the regeneration of the world." Of the Protestant sects, which "are manifesting the desire of circumscription within creeds," it remarks that "all these need new life, and they know it." The last clause, "and they know it," is the only mistake in this arraignment. Speaking of the church of the last days, the Laodicean period, the prophet notes this very condition, and says that they do not know it. See Rev. 3: 14-22. Individuals who believe and heed the Word of God by His prophet know the condition, but the masses of the professed church are in ignorance of the true situation. After stating the disease so tersely, the Republican goes on to prescribe the remedy in the following lucid manner:—

What is wanted in all the churches is a renewal of Spirit. It is not important to carry on a warfare against the criticism, which shows how human the documents are which have been regarded as divinely and verbally inspired; it is not worth while to quarrel with the fallibility of man. What is needed is to get in touch with God,—to strike a pure chord with the spiritual essence of nature. There it is

that we must find the truth of things, which is the body of the Infinite. All the rest may be abandoned, without loss, to those whose souls are emancipated into unity. The superstitions of the world, never more abundant than now, as we see from the multitude of follies that claim direct warrant from Deity, will continue. But the regeneration of the social conditions of men must come from a simpler and purer source than all the sects furnish. It is the ethics of the universe that the revivalists should seek; the schemes of salvation, by priests or by dogmas, are but make-shifts to catch those who are incapable of thought or can only think in terms already old. The spiritual regeneration, which will make human society what it should be, must rest in developed truth, must be inspired by the ever-during life of all that is. We must dip into the streams of universal childhood, and now, after centuries, find ourselves floating in greater waters, where artificial formularies are swamped and we rest on the ocean of one divine flood of life.

But the only law which will bring us into the channel of that life is God's everlasting law of truth; and the only means by which we can appropriate it is the everlasting Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. And that is the sum of God's last message to this world. Rev. 14: 6, 7.

THE PREVALENCE OF CRIME.

Watchword and Truth for April contains an article entitled "The Prevalence of Crime," in which it is boldly affirmed that "every civilized nation of the world, keeping a record of its doings, has been brought face to face with a startling increase of crime; . . . crime, too, of the most abnormal, monstrous, and unnatural character, and it is startling, perplexing, and inexplicable to the students of sociology and of government." Writers and preachers have long heralded the dawn of a millennium of righteousness as just at our doors; but that which has come in its place is as "the pall of darkness that can be felt, at the hour when the sun is expected to rise." The condition of things now facing the statesmen of the day is appalling. Fast as laws are promulgated attempting to remove one evil, other and unexpected evils stand before them with menacing attitude. He who is taught in the Word regarding the manner in which the age shall close, and marking the peculiar characteristics of the present, believes that this abounding prevalence of crime is an indication of the nearing of the end of the age. This does not induce him to slacken his efforts for the present amelioration of the lot of individuals, but it enables him to labor in present sanity and surety, knowing that evil will increase more and more until it shall be destroyed by the glorious advent in power. This prevalence of crime comes as a rude shock to those who have boasted so unceasingly in the culture, progress, and civilization of our times. With a fatuity begotten of self-contemplation, they have denied the doctrine of depravity taught in the Bible, and have proclaimed aloud the immortality, dignity, and divinity of man. What of these things in the light of the serious conclusions now being reached by sane and thoughtful men? It is high time that men learned to appropriate the just estimate of themselves which is placed before their eyes in the Word of God. That being done, there will be some hope that such as see will seek to put themselves in line with the purposes of God, which declare His intent to abolish evil; and doubtless much that men now boast in as progressive civilization will go with it, as utterly unworthy to find a place in His kingdom, "wherein dwelleth righteousness."—The Bible Standard.

THE WAR IN THE ORIENT.

FOR six days the two great armies of Oyama and Kuropatkin have been locked in a death struggle between Liao Yang and Mukden. In this desperate struggle the armies of the two nations have been taking, losing, and again retaking positions; but the Russians have been gradually losing ground to the Japanese, tho every foot of the way has been contested in the most desperate manner. This long-continued battle is the result of General Kuropatkin's assumption of the offensive when he made an attack upon the army of General Kuroki and followed it up by a general advance, compelling one of the Japanese armies to retreat. That action resulted in the Japanese concentrating their forces, so that their front was narrowed down from fifty miles to between twenty and thirty. Then came the counter advance of the three Japanese armies, which has now sent the Russians back to their old positions near Mukden. The Japanese are following up their advantage as rapidly as possible, and it is rumored that one whole division of the Russian army has been cut off. The Russians have lost a large number of field guns, variously stated at from forty-five to eighty, and the Japanese commander-in-chief reports that the loss of the Russians will be not less than 30,000 in killed and wounded. One Japanese army alone has buried 4,500 dead Russians who fell along its front.

The desperate nature of the fighting has been shown in the complete annihilation of whole companies and battalions, and, in some cases, the practical wiping out of whole regiments. Of some regiments that have gone into action, only small companies would return, and these under the command of some petty officer. The loss of the Japanese has not been so large, for, during much of this time, they were fighting from behind breastworks.

The hope of Russia that a turn had come in the tide of defeats has been dissipated, and Port Arthur can expect nothing from Kuropatkin's army. There has been a lull in operations at the latter place, or, at least, in news coming from there, and it is certain that the Russian army now in Manchuria will not be able to strike any serious blow during the present year. With Kuropatkin's first bold dash so quickly and completely turned into defeat and retreat, his great army crumpled up and rolled back, Russia must certainly wait till another year before expecting any great things of her Manchurian army. How far the Japanese will continue to press on remains to be seen.

TEMPERANCE IN THE HOME.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

SURELY there can never be too much said against the dangers that lurk in the wine cup, nor in condemnation of that accursed thing that transforms a loving husband into a fiend, or a kind and tender father into a bloated, fear-inspiring wreck. The direful effects of intemperance are identical, whether they be seen in the cottage or the palace,—its fruit is misery, and misery only. Every evil, every vice in the whole crimson catalogue of sin,—from those of the vagrant who spends his time on the street corners, smoking cheap cigars and drinking beer, to the blacker sins of the hardened villain whose hands are stained with the life-blood of his fellows,—all may be traced to the door of intemperance. Ah, the door of intemperance is the door to the pit; the door of misery unnameable; the door of poverty and wretchedness and disease and damnation. A grinning skeleton, whose name is Death holds the keys, and flaunts them in the face of the poor wretch who enters the dread portal: "Come enter my door," says the skeleton. "I will palsy thy soul and make thee forget thy misery. I will sing the siren song in thine ears till they are deaf to the sweet voices of mother and wife. I will make thee a dread and a curse to her who bore thee, and a derision and a byword to thy friends."

O lookout, young man, for the "worm of the still." Its bite is more deadly than that of the adder or the dreaded scorpion. It sounds no note of warning; its voice is sweet and subtle and alluring. The lights which flash from those dens of death where are its lurking places are beautiful and brilliant, and the music with which it bewitches the senses of him who is devoid of understanding is sweet and sensuous,—but, young man, keep away from those dens of death where the red flag of intemperance is flaunted, for, believe me, "the dead are there."

I have seen a wife and mother, tho the proud possessor of everything which money can buy, sit by my side in an abandon of grief and wretchedness, and weep bitter tears of humiliation and shame at the wreck and the misery and the wo caused by the demon Drink, in her own luxurious home. And I have seen a poor mother sit in her poverty-stricken room and bewail the misery which had come to her from the same cause.

I have followed the guide as he conducted me through one of the largest distilleries on this continent, and listened attentively as he told me the number of bushels of good grain which were daily turned from their legitimate source, and consumed in the never-satisfied maw of the "worm of the still;" listened while I thought of the hundreds of poor, hungry children who could have been fed by this same grain before it was turned into the drink of death; and I said, "No, there have never been any too many temperance sermons preached, nor any too many temperance books written, nor any too many pledges signed, for if there is any way of lessening this hellish traffic, in the name of the suffering Christ, let it be done."

Then I remembered an old proverb, "An ounce of preventive is better than a pound of cure." At some time, at some place, the first small seeds of intemperance are sown. When? Where?—Too often at the home, and in the innocent hours of childhood and youth.

"See here, Mary; you were out so late at the party last night, you must drink this nice glass of mother's currant wine. It will put you to sleep, and be good for you."

"I have a tearing headache, mother," says John. "I guess I'll take another glass of hot sling, such as you made me this morning; I've an idea it will make me feel better."

"Certainly, my son; I haven't a doubt of it." But in a few years that mother will wonder where her John got his taste for strong drink. Strange, isn't it! Now, instead of the grand manhood which she had seen indicated by his brilliant childhood, poor John is breaking his mother's heart.

"O, but you are making the home, and the home life, and the home training—in fact, us mothers and fathers—responsible for about all the evil which is developed in the home life of our children. Is that true?"

True, indeed, with very few exceptions. We all know very well that tea and coffee and rich pastry and puddings too often lay the foundation for the life of a drunkard. I hardly need to discuss it, because the phrase has been so often repeated as almost to have become hackneyed. But we must have "line upon line; here a little, and there a little," before the lessons will all be learned, and, better still, put into practise.

"O," sobs a poor mother, "my Jimmy learned to drink when he was away attending college."

Are you sure? Don't you remember that when Jimmy was at home he had all the cider he wanted to drink—even after it had begun to sparkle?

Said a florist, "This plant is very beautiful and rare; I will give you a slip; but you must put it in plenty of good, rich soil, or the tender roots will not develop and become strong, and, besides, it will not blossom at all, or the flowers will be dwarfed and imperfect."

O, why are parents not as wise in the ordering and planning of the home life of their children?

"But my children will not eat unless the food is daintily prepared."

Please do not mistake my meaning. I would not advise any mother to prepare the food for her family in a less dainty manner—but O, let nothing enter into the composition of it that can, in the remotest manner, create a taste for the cup of death.

But intemperance in eating and drinking is not the only evil we are to guard against. We who would condemn the glutton and the wine-bibber are intemperate in other ways than this. In the hurry of this busy twentieth century, we are tempted to work both brain and body beyond our strength; and, just as surely as we do, we forget to be patient. We are to add to temperance the beautiful grace of patience, and we may rest assured that, whenever we are tempted to give way to impatience, we have first sinned in being intemperate somewhere!

Well, do we not rejoice that this old world, with its specious temptations and trials and vexations, its intemperance in eating and drinking and working, and its sadness and sorrow and sin, are to give place to a better one pretty soon?

Ah, how heartily we shall eat at the marriage supper of the Lamb! Our appetite is poor here, but it is growing keen for a taste of the glorious fruit of the tree of life. We are getting hungry for the wedding feast. We long for a taste of the "new wine" which our Lord will drink with us in our Father's kingdom.

Shall we not haste to don the wedding garment?

LIFE'S LITTLE ACTS.

By Benjamin Keech

BY BENJAMIN KEECH.

A BILLION tiny grains of shifting sand, Piled close together, form the wide seashore; A thousand thoughtless deeds, wrought by my hand, May make or mar my life forevermore.

The small things multiply. The universe Is made complete by tiny units, frail; The future brings a blessing or a curse When small, unthinking actions tell the tale.

Randolph, N. Y.

SINCERITY BETWEEN HUSBANDS AND WIVES.

By Charles Wagner

It is to the highest advantage of both that each should be kept frankly informed as to everything concerning their mutual interests, material or spiritual, and that each should bear part of the responsibility of these things. Especially should perfect sincerity be fostered and encouraged by each one's mode of speech, and the manner in which he receives the other's confidences. There are husbands and wives who have put an end to all frank understanding, by their narrow-mindedness and their unpleasant remarks. Man's sincerity should never be put too rudely to the test; it needs encouragement and most indulgent welcome. He who rebuffs it by inhospitality is likely to frighten it from his house. Even if there is surprise at learning certain things, and if what is disclosed can not always be approved, at least the candor should be acknowledged.

With honesty and kindness on both sides, it is always possible to find a way out of our difficulties; but the moment one knows fear in the presence of the other, or prefers to conceal his sentiments for the sake of peace, the union has received a hard blow. Then, built by their own hands, between these two who ought to understand each other, there rises a wall that grows forever more and more impenetrable. Under the same roof, and at the same table, it separates one from the other, cutting off all real communication. Many a man comes to regret having left his wife in ignorance of things upon which his prosperity, his health, or his honor, depended; but few husbands and wives ever regret having kept each other informed. How many misfortunes has this one habit not warded off! Husbands and wives must share frankly life and all that it brings. And let neither withhold his own confidence while demanding the confidence of the other; the advance should come from both sides, heartily and loyally.

Those who do not follow this course know not what they do. In all the trying life they become, for each other, an unhappiness, and a source of strife, and such event shows them their isolation by unmasking their mutual dissimulations. The burdens are thus made heavier, the evils worse. O, the pity of the troubles that make discord between those who ought to bear them together!

On the other hand, what a resource when two make one, and can count upon each other absolutely! No matter what happens, they bear it with one effort, saying to each other, "Thy pain is my pain." There is no thought of mutual accusation. Each regrets the faults of the other as tho they were his own, and tries loyally to atone for them. Where harmony is lacking, every difficulty that presents itself is like an enemy with inside information; where harmony exists, the stronghold is well guarded; each is at his post.

To work together, suffer together, never to find one's self shut out when he needs to be calmed or encouraged; to walk abreast, like comrades in arms—how good it makes life! what courage it gives us! The farther on we go, the more closely allied we feel; all the common past binds us together. And when this harmony is once experienced, it becomes the most cherished thing in the world; everything else is secondary. How often have I heard such words as these, spoken from hearts attuned to it: "Come what may, so long as we two remain of one mind!"—Charles Wagner.

NERVOUS PROSTRATION AS A FINE ART.

By Editor

[From the Sunday-School Times, of October 16.]

The splendid gains of civilization have been achieved by tragic and pathetic losses. To-day it is interesting as it never has been before. By the railway, the steamboat, the telegraph, the newspaper, the whole world is welded into a common brotherhood; and the man in New York is not content unless he knows something of what the men in Tokio are doing. Assuredly modern life is interesting,—but it is not quiet. It interests the mind, but it does not rest the spirit. Perhaps there never has been so much noise in the world as there is to-day; certainly the stress and strain of life were never before spread over so wide an area. The result is that many,—and these not the weakest and the worst, but often the strongest and the best,—are fainting beneath their burdens.

There are some who, humbly speaking, can not help themselves. There are others whose physical ruin is, in large measure, their own fault. If they can fairly be called victims at all, they are the victims of their own good nature or stupidity. The malady known as nervous prostration is appallingly common. It attacks the strong, robust, and eager man, as well as the nervous and susceptible woman; but no one who has watched the unhappy victims of its assaults can deny that it attacks many who ought to have been impervious to its attacks, had they used the common sense which God has given them, or availed themselves of the opportunities for rest, refreshment, and recreation, which in many cases were scattered plentifully enough about their lives. It almost looks as if the unhappy sufferers had deliberately aimed to place themselves in the position in which they now are, and had cultivated nervous prostration as if it had been a fine art.

Of course, the statement has only to be put thus badly for the absurdity of it to be self-evident. The disease is a ghastly one. In its power to dull the intellect, to paralyze the moral energies, to cripple the spiritual power, to darken the outlook upon life and God, to envelop the spirit with gloom, and to inspire the sufferer with morbid and suicidal thoughts, it is an affliction from which the bravest might well shrink back in terror. But, at the same time, many a man, and perhaps still more, many a woman, lives as if he or she were positively courting its oncoming. They do,—sometimes, indeed, thoughtlessly, but often enough deliberately, and with their eyes fully open to all the horrible possibilities,—the very things which are bound, in the long run, to reduce them to nervous wrecks.

For a man has not lived to much purpose if he has not learned that all life is governed by laws, and that his health and his usefulness depend upon obedience to those laws. It matters not what the reason for the disobedience may be; often the sin may seem venial enough. But disobedience must be punished, and the wages of sin is prostration, and often death. Many men burden themselves with unnecessary duties. Imagining themselves to be indispensable to a certain piece of work, they willfully refuse to avail themselves of the useful help which could easily be had, and work on single-handed or with inadequate assistance until their own power of work is ruined. Then they learn, what they ought to have known all the time, that they were not indispensable. Women yield to the exacting demands of a too frivolous society, thinking that they can only refuse those demands on the penalty of social extinction; and then the nervous affections creep insidiously on, till the woman is a wreck, and the social extinction which she dreaded, and to avoid which she sacrificed everything, becomes a fact.

But perhaps the saddest thing of all is that many men allow themselves to be misled by their own good nature. It may be that a man can do three or four things well. He is a good preacher, a good platform speaker, a good writer. Were he only one of these, he would have his hands full enough, but, as it is, he is assailed on three different sides. The assailants, representing, as they do, different interests, do not know how cruel they are; all they know is that they are asking a capable man to do what they know he can do. It is a situation like this that tests a man's real wisdom and insight. In a weak moment, and for want of the power to say "No," he may accept engagements which he can only fulfil through the ultimate ruin of his physical, and perhaps mental, strength; and one may be pardoned for doubting whether, under ordinary circumstances, and unless there be some great claim to be greatly met, God demands such a sacrifice as that.

Even in the interests of the work itself the man must learn to say "No," because he does that work a gross injustice—the greatest injustice he as an individual can do it—by putting himself deliberately in the position of being ultimately unable to do it. The loss of a good worker is the most serious loss which a great cause can sustain, and that loss is inevitable if the worker commits the folly of working beyond his strength. And it is precisely the best workers who are most exposed to this temptation, for it is upon them, very naturally, that the world lays its most numerous and heaviest demands.

But the laws of health are the laws of God. The sooner we learn that if a man has the hardihood to defy the laws of God, it is he who suffers, and not they, the better it will be for us all. We pray glibly for a revelation from God, and here is one of the plainest and most undeniable revelations that man can ever hope to receive. Yet every month Christian men defy it repeatedly and deliberately. How can we hope to be happy if we defy the great and beneficent laws of God? Is it fair that we should be happy? The way of transgressors is hard, and the man or woman who needlessly overworks is a transgressor, and just as sure of punishment as any other transgressor. It is easier to run down than to run up. It is months, and often years, before the victim of nervous prostration recovers that elasticity and buoyancy of spirit which constitutes more than half the happiness of life. It is a fearful thing to fall into the arms of these mighty laws of God. Every Sabbath day is a reminder of the folly, indeed of the crime, of overwork. The man who refuses to avail himself of his proper rest and recreation is indeed a bold man; he is defying the established order of the world, violating the constitution of his own being, and dashing himself against the laws of God. But in such a collision we may be very sure that it is he, and not they, that will be broken in pieces.

"'FAID OF THE DARK."

THERE were two little girls in the Crofton family, Anna and Julia. Both from babyhood had been timid children and always particularly "afraid of the dark." The mother had tried from the beginning to make them fearless, overcoming, by a force of will hitherto impossible, her own timidity born of frightful stories told by an ignorant nurse in her own childhood.

No servant ever came into the Crofton family after these little girls came that was not promised instant dismissal if anything was ever said or done to frighten these little ones.

The children had been told over and over that there was nothing in darkness of which to be afraid, but there seemed to be an unconquerable fear, especially in the mind of the younger.

One night, when Julia was about three and a half, the mother awoke and found the little one sobbing as tho her heart would break.

"What is the trouble, precious?" she asked, as she put her face beside her darling's wet cheeks. "I's so 'faid!" sobbed the child.

" 'Faid! There's nothing to be afraid of, little one," replied the mother.

"Yes, there's the dark, and I's so afraid of the dark," Julia answered between her sobs.

"But God is here in the dark," said the mother, as soon as her petting had somewhat soothed the nervous terror of the child. "God is here in the dark just exactly the same as He is in the sunshine. God is always right here, and loves you and cares for you. You can't see God with your little eyes, but He is here. He is in the darkness just as real as in the sunshine."

"O-h!" came with trembling gladness from the child, after a moment's silence, "O-h! God is down in the sunshine in my heart."

"Yes, my dear baby," said the mother, a new idea of God's presence coming to her with the child's explanation, "yes, my dear; God is always in the sunshine in your heart."

"Then it don't matter if it is dark outside. I can see if He always has sunshine;" and her sobs were hushed, baby fears were banished, and she sweetly slept, trusting the great Shepherd of Israel, who never slumbers or sleeps.

From that time Julia lost all fear of darkness or storms. She goes into any part of the house after dark as fearlessly as at noontime. God stays with her in the sunshine down in her heart, and she sheds that sunshine wherever she goes.—Selected.

Lamp Chimney Index

Our "Index" describes all lamps and their proper chimneys. With it you can always order the right size and shape of chimney for any lamp. FREE. Macbeth, Pittsburg, Pa.

OLIVOILINE

Is the # Hygienic Cooking Oil of To-day

A Pure Vegetable Shortening. No Animal Fat. No Taste and No Chemicals.

Like Olive Oil, and Keeps In Any Climate

Price, F. O. B., Cash with order 5 gal. can, $3.50; 10 gal. can (75 lbs.), $6.75. Write for circulars on Bbl. and 1/2-Bbl. lots.

(Refined Cotton Seed Oil, 10 Gallons, $5.50)

Address O. C. GODSMARK 2005 Magazine St. LOUISVILLE, KY

FOOTBALL FREE!

BOYS, send to us for 29 packages of Bluine which you can easily sell at ten cents each. Return us the $2.00 received, and we will at once send free, post-paid, a Regulation-size Rugby Football, consisting of a tested bladder made of the best rubber, and a strongly sewed leather cover. It is warranted to stand rough work. Send your address. We trust you with the bluine. Satisfaction guaranteed. We also give other athletic goods.

(The Old Reliable Firm)

BLUINE MANUFACTURING COMPANY 16 Mill Street, Concord Junction, Mass.

ONE-HALF NEW SONGS THAT WILL NEVER GROW OLD

ONE-HALF OLD SONGS THAT WILL ALWAYS BE NEW.

Devotional

By three famous composers, Doane, Kirkpatrick and Main.

Song's

256 pages, cloth, $25 per 100; 30c. each by mail.

A returnable copy for examination will be mailed on request.

Published by the publishers of the famous "Gospel Hymns."

THE BIGLOW & MAIN CO., New York and Chicago.

TOURIST CARS EAST

By C. T. Forsyth

VIA

S. P. LINES

Personally Conducted Cheapest Rates Quickest Time

Your choice of a dozen routes

Through cars to— Portland Los Angeles Salt Lake City Omaha Denver Kansas City St. Paul Minneapolis Chicago St. Louis Louisville Cincinnati Memphis El Paso San Antonio Houston New Orleans Montgomery Atlanta Washington, D. C.

Remember these cars run through to above named cities without a change from Oakland or San Francisco. Our fast limited trains in connection with the above mentioned service.

C. T. FORSYTH

Div. Pass. Agent

12 San Pablo Ave., Oakland, Cal.

PHONE MAIN 543

Continue reading: WHAT IS BEING DONE FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE OF THE SOUTH