40
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAN, PORTLAND, DECEMBER 16, 1900.
Sporting Fatalities During Year
Automobiling and Mountain-Climbing Head the List
and Show an Increase Over 1905
.-
rlMMlN aboard ship I don't 'old
with," said the night-watchman
severely. "They'll arsk you all
Forts o' silly questions, an' complain to
the skipper If you don't treat 'em civil
in answering 'em. If you do. treat 'em
civil, what's the result? Is it a bit o'
bacca. or a shilling, or anything like that?
Not a bit of it; Just a 'thank you." ansaid
in a way as though they've been giving
you a perfect treat by talking to you.
"They're a contrary sects, too. Ask a
girl civil-like to stand off a line you want
to coll up, and she'll get off an' look at
you as though you ought to have waited
until she 'ad offered to shift. Pull on it
without asking her to step off fust, an'
tiie ship won't 'old her 'ardly. A man I
knew once he's dead now, poor chap, and
three widders mournin' for 'im said that
with all 'is experience wimmin was as
much a riddle to 'im as when he fust
married.
"O" course, sometimes you get a gal
down the fo'e'e'le pretending to be a man,
shipping as ordinary seaman or boy, and
nobody not a penny the wiser. It's hap
pened before, an' I've no doubt it will
again.
"We 'ad a queer cr.ee once on a bark
I was on as steward, called the Tower of
Ixmdon, bound from the Albert Docks to
-Melbourne with a general cargo. We
shipped' a new boy just after we started
an was entered in the ship's books as
'Knery Mallow, an' the first thing we no
ticed about 'Knery was as 'e had a great
dislike to work and was terrible seasick.
Every time there was a job as wanted,
to be done, that lad 'ud go and be took
bad quite independent of the weather.
"Then Bill Dowsett adopted Mm. and
said he'd make a sailor of 'im. I believe
if 'Enery could 'ave chose 'is father, he'd
xooner 'ad any man than Bill, and I
would sooner have been a orphan than a
Mm to any of 'em. Hill relied on his
laugwldge mostly, but when that failed
he'd Jum fetch 'Im a cuff. Nothing more
than was good for a boy wot 'ad got 'Is
living to earn, but 'Enery used to cry
until we was all ashamed of 'Im.
"Bill got almost to be afraid of 'lttlng
'im at last, and used to try wot being
sarcastic would do. Then we found aa
'Knery was ten times as sarcastic as Bill
'e'd talk all round 'im so to speak, an'
even take the words out of Bill's mouth
to use agin 'Im. Then Bill would turn to
'is great natural gifts, and .the end of It
was when we- was about a fortnight out
that the boy went aft to the skipper and
complained of Bill's langwidge.
" 'Lungwidgc,' ses the old man, glar4ng
at 'ini as if 'e'd eat 'im 'what sort o'
hi ngwidge?"
" 'Bad langwidge, sir." ses 'Enery.
" 'Repeat It,' ses the skipper.
" 'Knery gives a little shiver. 'I couldn't
do It, sir," he ses, very solemn, 'it's like
like you was talking to bo'sen yesterday
" 'Go to your duties,' roars the skipper;
'go to your duties at once, and don't let
me 'car any more of It. Why, you ought
to be at a young ladies' school.'
" I know I ought, sir.' 'Enery ses. with
a w'imper, "but I never thought it'd be
like this.' , '
"The old man stares at him. and then
he rubs his eyes and etares agin. 'Enery
wiped his eyes and stood looking down at
the dock.
" ' 'Kavens above.' ses the old man, in a
dazed voice, 'don't tell me you're a gal!'
" 'l won't if you don't want me to,' ses
'Enery, willing his eyes agin.
" 'What's your name'." ses the old man,
at last.
" 'Mary Mallow, sir,' ses 'Knery, very
soft.
" 'What made you do it?' ses the skip
per, at last.
" 'My father wanteil me to marry a
man I didn't want to,' ses Miss Mallow,
'lie used to admire my hair very much, so
1 cut it off. Then I got frightened at
what I'd done, and as I looked like a boy
I thought I'd go to sea.'
"Well, it's a nice responsibility for me,'
ses the skipper, and he called the mate,
. who 'ad just come on deck, and asked his
advice. The mate was a very straitlaced
man for a mate and at fust he was eo
shocked 'e couldn't speak.
" 'She'll have to como aft,' he ses, at
last.
" 'O' course she will,' ses the skipper,
and lie called me up and told me to clear
a spare cabin out for her we carried a
passenger or two sometimes and to fetch
her chest up.
" 'I suppose you've got some clothes in
it? he ses. anxious-like.
" 'Only these sort o' things,' ses Miss
Mallow, bashfully.
" And send Dowsett to me," ses tho
skipper, turning to me agin.
"We 'ad to shove pore Bill up on deck
a'most, and the way the skipper went on
at 'ini, you'd thought 'e was the greatest
rascal unhung. He begged the young
lady's pardon over and over agin, and
when 'e come back to us 'e was that upset
that 'e didn't ,know what 'e was saying,
and begged an ordinary seaman's pardon
for treading on 'is toe.
"Then the skipper took Miss Mallow be
low to her new quarters, and to 'is great
surprise caught the third officer, who was
fond of female society, doing a step-dance
in the saloon all on 'is own.
"That evening the skipper and tho mate
formed themselves into a committee to
decide what was to be done. Everything
tho mate suggested the skipper wouldn't
have, and when tho skipper thought of
anythink, the mate said it was impossible.
After the committee 'ad been sitting for
three hours it began to abuse each other;
leastaways. the skipper abused the mate,
and the mate kep' on saying if it wasn't
for discipline he knew somebody as would
tell the skipper a thing or two it would
uo 'im good to' hear.
" 'She must have a dress. I tell you. or
a frock, at any rate,' ses the skipper, very
mad.
" 'What's the difference between a dress
and a frock?" ses the mate.
" 'There is a difference," ses the skipper.
" 'Well, what is it?' ses the mite.
It wouldn t be any good if I was to
explain to you, ses the skipper, 'some
people's heads are too thick.'
" '1 know they are," ses the mate.
"The committee broke up after that.
but it got amiable agin over breakfast
next morning, and made quite a fuss
over Miss Mallow. It was wonderful
what a difference a night aft had made
in that gal. She'd washed herself beau
tiful, and had just frizzed 'er 'air, which
was rather long, over 'er forehead, and
the committee kept pursing its lips up and
looking at each other as Mr. Fisher talked
to or and kep' on piling 'er plate un.
"She went up on deck after breakfast
and stood leaning against the side talking
to Mr. f isner. t'retly laugh she'd got.
too. though I never noticed it when she
was in the fo'c's'le. Perhaps she hadn't
got much to laugh about then; and while
she was up there enjoying 'erself watch
ing .us chaps work, the committee was
down below laying its 'eads together agin.
"When I went down to the cabin agin
it was like a dressmaker's shop. There
was silk handkerchiefs and all sorts of
things on the table, an' tile skipper was
hovering about with a hig pair of scissors
in his hands, wondering how to begin.
" 'I shan't attempt anything very grand,'
'he ses. at last, 'Just something to slip
over them boy's clothes she's wearing."
"The mate didn't say anything. He was
busy drawing frocks on a little, piece of
paper, and looking at 'em with his head
on one side to see whether they looked
better that way.
" 'By Jove! I've got It,' ses the old
man, suddenly. "Where's that dressing
gown your wife gave you?'
"The mate looked up. 'I don't know,' he
Fes. slowly. 'I've mislaid It.'
'Well, it can't be far.' ses the skipper.
'It's Just the thing to make a frock of.'
, " "1 don't think so,' ses the mate. 'It
w
wouldn't hang properly. Do you know
what I was thinking of?"
" 'Well.'- ses the skipper.
" "Three o' them new flannel shirts o'
yours.' ses the mate. "They're very dark,
an' they'd hang beautiful.'
" 'Let's try the dressing-gown first." ses
the skipper, hearty-like. 'That's easier.
I'll help you look for it.'
"'I can't think what I've-done with it,"
ses the mate.
" 'Well, let's try your. cabin,' ses the old
man.
"They went to the mate's cabin and, to
his great surprise, . there it was hanging
just behind the door. It was a beautiful
dressing-gown soft, warm cloth trimmed
with braid and the skipper took up his
scissors agin, and fairly gloated over it.
Then he slowly cut off the top part with
the two arms 'anging to it, and passed it
over to the mate.
" 'I shan't want hat. Mr. Jackson,' he
ses, slowly. 'I dare say you'll find it
come in useful.'
" "While you're doing that, s'pose I get
on with them three shirts,' ses Mr. Jack
son.' ' 'What three shirts? ses the skipper,
who was busy cutting buttons off. .
"' "Why, yours," ses Mr. Jackson. "Let's
see who can make the best frock.'
" 'No. Mr. Jackson,' ses the old man.
'I'm sure you couldn't make anything o'
them shirts. You're not at all gifted that
way. Besides, I want 'em.'
" "Well, I wanted my dressing-gown, if
you come to that,' ses the mate, in a
sulky voice.
" "Well, what on earth did you give it
to me for?" ses the skipper. 'I do wish
you'd know your own mind, Mr.. Jackson."
"The mate didn't say any more. He
sat and watched the old man, as he
threaded his needle and stitched the dressing-gown
together down the front. It
really didn't look half bad when he'd fin
ished it, and it was easy to see how
pleased Mies Mallow was. She really
looked quite fine in it, and with the blue
guernsey she was wearing and a band o'
silk handkerchiefs round her waist, I saw
at once it was- a case with the third offi
cer. '" 'Now you look a bit more like the gal
your father used to know.' ses the skip
per. 'My finger's a bit sore jurt at pres
ent, but by and by I'll make you a bon
net.' '" 'I'd like to see it,' ses the mate.
" 'It's quite easy,' ses the skipper. 'I've
seen my wife do 'em. She calls 'em tokes.
You make the hull out o' cardboard and
spread your canvas on that."
"That dress made a wonderful differ
ence in the gal. Wonderful! She seemed
to change all at once and become the lady
altogether. She Just 'ad that cabin at her
heck and call; and as for me, she seemed
to think I was there a puppose to wait on
'er.
"I must say she 'ad a good time of it.
We were having splendid weather, and
there wasn't much work for anybody; con
sequently, when she wasn't receiving good
advice from the ekipper and the mate, she
was receiving attention jrom both the sec
ond and third officers. Jfr. Scott, the
second, didn't seem to take much notice
of her for a day or' two, and the first I
saw of his being tn lore was 'is being very
rude to Mr. Fisher and giving up bad
langwidge fo sudden it's a wonder It
didn't do 'im a injury.
"I think the gal rather enjoyed their at
tentions" at first, tut arter a time she got
fairly tired of it. She never 'ad no rest,
pore tiling. If she was up on deck look
ing over the side the third officer would
come up and talk romantic to 'er about
the sea and the lonely lives of sailor men.
and I actually 'eard Mr. Scott repeating
poetry to her. The skipper 'eard It. too,
and being suspicious o' poetry, and not
having heard clearly, called him up to 'im
and made 'im say it all over again to 'im.
E didn't teem quite to know wot to make
of it, ho 'e calls up the mate for im to
hear it. The mate swid it was rubbish.
and the skipper told Mr. Scott that If ever
he was taken that way agin 'e'd 'ear more
of it.
'There- was no doubt about them two
young fellers being genuine. She 'appened
to say 'one day she could never, never care
for a man who drank and smoked, and
International Sunday School Lesson
BY WILLIAM T. ELLIS.
THE story opens with a woman
weeping by a grave. A familiar
enough scene truly; -women weep
because they have borne most of the
world's suffering. The vicariousness
of womanhood is that it is at once a
great sorrow and a great glory. Tears
are oftenest caused by death; there are
worst griefs than this one, but over
it we weep most. , The mystery, the
silence the separation of death stir
the heart's deep fountains.
This woman had best cause for weep
ing. In the grave beside which she
stood had been buried the body of her
Healer, her Teacher, her best Friend;
the personal loss was beyond meas
ure. And in. the tomb also had been
laid away the- hopes of a hand of
eager disciples, hopes for the redemp
tion of. Israel and for a new reign of
righteousness for all the world. On
Jesus these friends had builded every
thing; with him in the grave the
house of their hopes had toppled about
their bowed heads. Now at dawn
Mary and the other women had come
the alertness of love is woman's
bearing spices for their dead; the cold
body of their Lord was all that they
expected, but God is alays doing bet
ter than his children expect or think.
Mary and the women entered upon a
new estate that day which has been
bequeathed to all womanhood since. .As
Mrs. Browning sang:
Not she with traitorous kiss her Master
stung:
Not she denied Him with unfaithful tongue;
She, when Apostles fled, could danger brave.
Last at His cross, and earliest at His grave.
Jesus is never beyond the reach of
the tears of his friends; he. would not
even leave the comforting- of Mary to
the angels by the empty tomb, but he
himself stood by, though she knew
not his nearness. Christ often comes
when eyes areholden, and the com
fort that he gives is not always rec
ognized as from him. Mary thought
she was seeking help from the gar
dener, but it was the Lord. Even
when he tenderly said, "Why wecpest
thou'?" she did not comprehend; he
had to call her by name before she
understood.
All the sweet adjectives that love
bestows upon a loved one are not so
meaningful as the personal, familiar
name, with the melting tenderness and
deep significance that may be put into
it. So when Jesus turned and said,
"Mary." she knew him instantly: no
one else could pronounce her name
like that. The Good Shepherd calls his
sheep by name, and each is, as Mary
was, a beloved personality. -
In a transport of rapture she would
have flurtg- herself at his feet and
clung to him, but the Master restrained
her; tfhe risen Lord did not keep the
same Intimacy of human relations as
before; he had new powers and new
work. Mary, too, had an immediate
mission; she could not sit and adore,
for the brethren awaited the glorious
news, "He is risen!"
The first preacher of the full gospel
j was a woman. To Mary it was given
3
WHAT UOKS THIS MEAN, MR.
I'm blest if both of 'em didn't take to
water and give 'er their 'pipes to chuclc
overboard, and the agony those two chaps
used to suffer when they saw other peo
ple smoking was pitiful to witness.
"It got to such a pitch at last that the
mate, who, as I said afore, was a very
particular man. called another committee
meeting. It was a very solemn affair,
and he made a long speech in which he
said he was the lpther of a family, and
that the second and third officers was far
too attentive to Miss Mallow, and-'e asked
the skipper to stop it.
" 'How?' ses . the ekipper. . - .
" 'Slop the draught-playing and the
card-playing and the i poetry,' ses the
mate: 'the sal's' getting too much atten
tion; she'll have 'er 'ead turned. " Put
your foot down, sir .and stop it.' ,
"The skipper was so struck by what -he
said that he not only did that, but he
went and forbid them two young men to
speak to the gal except at meal times, or
when the conversation ware, general. None
of 'em liked it. though the gal pretended
to, and for the matter of a week things
was very quiet in the cabin, not to say
sulky.
"Things got back to their old style agin
in a very curious way. I'd just set the tea
in the cabin one afternoon, and 'ad
stopped at the fool of the companion-ladder
to let the skipper and Mr. Fisher come
down, when we suddenly 'eard a loud box
on the ear. We all rushed into the cabin
at once, and there wan the mate looking
fairly thunderstruck, Mth his hand to his
face, and Miss Mallow glaring at 'im.
'Mr. Jackson.' ses the skipper, in a
to utter the word that unfolded the
complete significance of the acts and
teachings of Jesus. What a revolu
tion in feeling and outlook .the news
must have created in the minds ot
the disciples! All was clear now; the
sayings that they formerly had been
unable to comprehend shone with di
.vine meaning. Jesus had risen, even
as he had said. He had done exceed
ingly abundantly above all that they
could ask' or think. iTot defeat, but
victory, was their programme.
Now the infant Church had a mes
sage for the world, the very message
of life and hope which it most needed.
The last great enemy who had
blanched the check of the bravest had
been conquered. Men need no longer
be prisoners to dread and fear. A new
attitude toward life and death had
been created. Thenceforward the dis
ciples would go .forth, as thousands
since have done, facing even martyr
dom songfully. The world's wonder
ment, "Behold, how theso Christians
die!" would be a new gateway to the
klngdorn. The resurrection hope is the
capstone of the edifice of Christian
truth. "Because I live, ye shall live
also"; Christ's resurrection was the
first fruits of an immeasurable har
vest. At dawn Christ had appeared to Mary;
at eventide he suddenly stood in the midst
of the affrighted company of disciples,
as they taked In hushed and awe-struck
tones of the word of the woman, of
Peter, of the Emmaus disciples, who had
reported that they had seen the Lord.
Probably it was in the large upper room,
fragrant with memories of Jesus, that
they had gathered, waiting for .they
scarcely knew -what.' but drawn together
by their common grief. There was no
dissension or striving for places among
them now. and their hearts were pe
culiarly tender toward one another.
The doors were shut. for. deprived of
their leader, they were a timid band. All
of a sudden and mysteriously Jesus ap
peared in their midst in his old familiar
form. The resurrection body, no longer
bound by limitations of the material
body, went wherever it pleased, unim
peded by the old hindrances. But it was
still the very same Jesus with identity
unchanged.
This he proved by showing to the hesi
tant' and fearful disciples the wounds of
the cross. The savior has marks by
which we may know him, even as his
disciple. No need to wear crosses or
badges to advertise one's self a Christian,
for as surely as the brand of the king
Is on the horses and stores of the British
Government, so the ' marks of the Lord
Jesus characterize his true friends.
Would you know such? Then look for
the spear wound of sacrifice on his heart,
the nail prints of service on his hands,
and his feet, and the thorn scars of hu
mility on his brow. These are the true
tokens of the Christ-spirit within, On
the other hand. "The mark of the beast
is number one"; selfishness betokens an
other ownership than Christ's.
That unexpected visitation was joy un
speakable to the little company of loving
hearts. Their whole desire had been to
see Jesus, and so they rejoiced. The
deepest passion of every Christian 'is for
a clearer vision of His Saviour. The story
MAM.ON?' SEZ THE SKIPPER.
awful voice, "what's this?"
"' 'Ask her," shouts the mate. 'I think
she's gone mad or son etfclng.'
"'What does this" mean, Miss Mallow?'
ses- l he f kipper.
" 'Ask l.im,' ses Miss Mallow, breathing
very 'ard.
"'Mr. Jackson.' see the skipper, -very
severe, 'what have you been doing?'
. " "Nothing," roars the mate.
" 'Was that a box on the ear I "eard?'
ses the skipper.
" "'It was.' ses the mate, grinding his
teeth.
"' "Your, car?" ses the ekipper.
" 'Yes. She's mad. I tell you,' ses the
mate. 'I was eitting here quite quiet and
peaceable, when she came alongside me
and slapped my face'
" 'Why did you box his ear?' ses the
skipper to the girl again.
" 'Because he deterved it,' ses Miss Mal
low. "The skipper shook his 'ead and looked
at the mate so sra-rowluP that he began
to stamp up and down the cabin and bang
the table with his fist. "
" 'If I hadn't, heard it myself, 1 couldn't
have believed it," ses the skipper; 'and you"
the father of a family, too. Nice example
for the young men, I must say."
" 'Please don't eay anything more about
It," see Miss Mallow; "I'm sure he's very
eorry.'
" "Very good.' ses the skipper; 'but you
understand, Mr. Jackson, that if I over
look your conduct, you're not to speak to
this young lady agin. Also, you must con
sider yourself as- removed from the com
mittee." is not new of the eager-hearted church
member who found little of his Master
in the learned Sunday discourses of his
pastor, so. before service one day. he
laid on the pulpit Bible the text, "We
would see Jesus." The minister was
really a man of God, and he caught the
point; his next sermon was so full of
the Christ that on the following Sunday
he found on the pulpit the verse from
this lesson, "Then were the disciples
glad when they saw the Lord."
The first word of Jesus as he entered
the room was "peace," tiie old Jewish
salutation which he has filled with new
meaning. When he enters a life he suf
fuses it with peace, a peace which the
world cannot know or take away. The
heart at peace is the Master's attesta
tion of approval: this is the inward
voice which is to be heeded, rather than
the outward clamor of men.
After the saluation came the sending.
"As the Father hath sent "me. even so
send I you." As a boy in the temple,
when he met in the upper room with the
Twelve, and even as he hung on the
cross, the upturned thought of Jesus was
of his mission. The Father's sending '
that was his life's purpose and passion.
Nothing could turn him aside from it
friends, t enemies, ease or suffering, the
will of God, with its divine commission,
was the one supreme, insistent, unalter
able fact in his life. 1
Christianity
THE BOY JESUS. "He was subject
unto them.".' There is a moral
grandeur in these words. Conscious of
his powers and of his mission, he yet
took up the line of an ordinary young
man so naturally that no one thought
the fact notable. Great indeed is the
greatness that can make itself of no
reputation, and be patient through all
its times of preparation and waiting.
Those 18 silent years which followed
at Nazareth are eloquent with teaching
to all whose souls cherish high visions
but whose lot is cast In a lowly place.
Jesus Called Fisherman. What a
promotion was this for those lowly
fishermen! Henceforth these men
whose chief ambition had been to
make a living, would devote themselves
to propagating and enlarging life. Hu
man service was their mission. They
went forth to spend and to be spent for
their fellow men, the greatest work In
all the world. Whoever in the same
service as they, and from the same mo
tive, freely pours out his life for the
help of his "fellows, is in the fellowship
of the early disciples and their divine
Master. v
A Day of Miracles in Capernaum.
These miracles of helpfulness were the
natural fruits of Christ's character.
They were for the service of the needy,
and expressions of the great love and
compassion which welled up in his heart
toward all mankind. The doctrine
which Jesus taught by his life, no less
than by his words, was a doctrine of
usefulness. He vindicated his claims
' 'Curse the committee," screamed the
matt. "Curee "
"He looked all round, with his eyes start
ing out of 'is 'ead, and then suddenly shut
his mouth with a snap and went up on
deck. He never allooded to the affair
again, and in fact for the rest of the voy
age 'e hardly spoke to a soul. The young
people got their cards and draughts agin,
but he took no notice, and 'e never spoke
tp the skipper unless he spoke to 'im fust.
"We got to Melbourne at last, and the
fust thing the skipper did was to give our
young lady some morey to go ashore and
buy clothes with. rTe did it in a very
delikit way by giving her the pay as a
boy, and I don't think I ever see anybody
look so pleased and surprised as she did.
The skipper went ashore with her, as she
looked rather a odd figure to be going
about, and comes back about a hour later
without 'er.
" I thought perhaps she'd have come
aboard.' he ses to Mr. Fisher. I managed
to miss her somehow while I was waiting
outside a shop."
"They fidgeted about a bit, and then
went ashore to look for 'er, turning up
again at 8 o'clock quite worried. Nine
o'clock came, and there was no signs of
'er. Mr. Fisher and Mr. Scott was in a
dreadful state, and the skipper sent al
most every man aboard ashore to search
lor 'er. They 'unted for 'er high and low,
up and down and round about, and turned
up at midnight so done up that they could
'ardly tatand without holding on to some
think, and so upset that they couldn't
speak. None of the officers got any sleep
that night except Mr. Jackson, and the
fust thing in the morning they was ashore
agin looking for her.
"She'd disappeared as completely as if
she'd gone overboard, and more than one
of the chaps looked over the side half ex
pecting to see 'er come floating by. By
12 o'clock most of us was convinced that
she'd been made away'with, and Mr. Fish
er made some remarks about the police
oft Melbourne as would ha' done them good
to hear.
. "I was just going to see about dinner
when we got the tirst news of her. Three
of fh most miserable and solemn-looking
captains. I've ever seen, came alongside
and a?ked for a few words with our skip
per. TJiey all stood in a row looking as if
they was going to cry.
." 'Gocd morning. Captain Hart," ses one,
of 'em. as our old man came up with the
mate.
" "Good morning." ses he.
" 'Do you know th'6?" ses one of "em,
suddenly holding out Miss Mallow e
dressing-gown on a walking-stick.
",'Good 'eavens.' ses the skipper. 'I hope
nothing's happened to that pore gal."
"The three captains shook their heads
all together.
' 'She is no more," ses another of 'em.
'"How did it happen?' ses the skipper,
in a low voice.
" 'She took this off." ees the first cap
tain, shaking his head and pointing to the
aressing-gown.
' 'And took a chill?' ses the skipper,
staring very 'ard.
"The three captains shook their 'eads
agin, and I noticed that they seemed to
watch each other and do It all together.
" 'I don't understand," ses the ekipper.
" "I was afraid you wouldn't," ses the
first captain; 'she look this off.'
" 'So you said before,' ses the skipper,
" 'And became a boy agin,' ses the oth
er: "the wickedest and most artrul young
rascal that ever signed on with me.
"He lookqjl round at the others, and
they all broke out into a perfect roar of
laughter, and jumped up and down and
slapped each other on the back, as if they
was all mad. Then they asked which was
the one wat had 'is ears boxed, and which
was Mr. Fisher and which was Mr. Scott,
and told our skipper what a nice fatherly
man he was. Quite a crowd got 'round,
an' wouldn't go away for all we could do
to 'em In the shape o' buckets o' water
and lumps o' coal. We was the laughing
stock o' the place, and the way they car
ried on when the steamer passed us two
days later with the first captain on the
bridge, pretending not to see that imp ot
a boy standing in the bows blowing us
kisses and dropping curtsies, nearly put
the skipper out of 'Is mind." -
As an equipment for this mission which
he bequeathed to the disciples. Jesus
breathed upon them and said. "Receive
ye the Holy Spirit." He was going away:
the Spirit would stand to them in his
stead. They would be sufficient for all
things, because of the divine Enabler.
The new truth that Mary told not only
began to change the world's calendars,
but also to make over its maps. Equipped
with it, the little company of plain peo
ple, whom she found in perplexity and
fear, commenced to mold society anew
and to transform .the world. The great
affirmation of the Gospel, of a risen
life for man right here and now. and of
an immortal life hereafter, has been and"'
is, the most potent Influence of history.
Christianity is not a religion of neg
ative teachings and negative charac
ters: ail' such misrepresent it. The
risen Christ brought into the world a
new force. When he entered the room
where they were gathered on Resur
rection Day he found his disciples fear
ful and cowering. He left them brave
and courageous. The dominant person
alities of the time were soon these fee
ble Christians. Boldness became their
outstanding characteristic. They grew
to be pioneers in aggressiveness. With
out fear and in stupendous faith they
challenged the world and set out to con
quer it. The resurrection note sounds
in the victorious life.
Not Negative
by his service, and in the same way the
Church must prove herself 'today. She
is the world's teacher, but also the
world's servant. And by her sacrific
ing ministry to the manifold needs of
men's souls and bodies she proves that
she still has within, her the spirit of
him who went about doing good.
Seven Sentence Sermons,
I Great souls have wills; feeble ones have
only wishes. Chinese Proverb.
Every day is a fresh beginning.
Every morn i the world made new;
So in spite of old sorrow and older sin
ning. Of trouble forecasted or possible pain.
Take heart with the day and begin again.
Susan Coolidge.
The youth who surrenders- himself to a
great ideal himself becomes great. Emer
son. "Live and let live" Is a good maxim, but
"live and help live" Is better. Anon.
God estimates us not by the position we
are In, but by the way in which we fill it.
Edwards.
One by one thy duties wait thee.
Let thy whole strength go to each;
Let no future dreams elate thee.
Learn thou first what these can teach.
A. A. Proctor.
When I speak let me think first: Is it
true? Is it kind? Is It necessary? If not,
let It be unsaid. Maltbte D. Babcock.
TRIENNIAL KECORl) OF SPORT
ING NATALITIES.
Wort l'.lnS W04
. .1111 1711 1X7
..110 7S 27
. . 72 HI 64
.. 11 19 1
.. 8 12 21
4 7 7
.. R 4
..2 i:s :t
.2 5
2 2 :
.. 1 .' -..11-
.. 1 1 o
410 4il 23
Mountain climbing
Automobiling
Hunting
Football
Haseball
Boating
Cycling
Horse racing
Boxing
Wrestling
Gymnastics . . '.
Polo
Golf
u
. i i o I
Automobile Fatalities January- No
. vember, 06.
January
February March ...
April ....
May
.Tune ....
July
1
August . . .
September
;t October ...
8 November
IS
10
Total HO
Onlj 9 of these 110 met death in
races: 6 spectators. 3 contestant?. Of
the remaining 101, 54 were pedes
trians and 47 were in the cava in
volved. THE close of the football season is
again met with public clamor
against the dangers of the game,
which is only less in volume than that
outcry of 1905. which resulted in the pres
ent revised rules of play; rules, it may
be added, that are certain to be changed
even more in the immediate future, to in
crease yet farther "open play." and so
decrease yet farther the danger to life
and limb. Football is dangerous. There
can be no question as to that, when the
eleven weeks just past have built up a
total of 11 fatalities, with something over
a hundred cases of more or less serious
injury. But is that all there is to be said
in the matter?
Why is popular disapproval directed
wholly against the game of the gridiron
field? Even ignoring the admittedly strong
points in favor of the sport, why is noth
ing ever said of baseball casualties, for
instance, or of the mishaps (not infre
quently fatal) which befall each twelve
month on the race track, on the wrestling
mats, or in the boxing ring? Why (and
this more markedly) is no accusation
made against mountain-climbing, or auto
mobiling, or hunting? What is the slory
told by the year's figures, in all of this?
Dentils in "Sport" In 1906.
v
It is said that something approaching 40
per cent of the deaths of any year, due
to other than so-called "natural causes,"
are to be attributed to "murder, suicide
and individual acpidcr.t," and that near
ly two-fifths of this total is due' to acci
dents closely connected with man's vari
ous "sporting" avocations. The fatali
ties traceable to disasters on the rail (in
cluding those caused by trolley cars as
well as steam), and the marine horrors.
are classed as "general," not "Individual."
In this light, glance at the items of
death's creating, in the various fields ot
sport, since January, 19C6. came in. Moun.
tain-climbing leads. In the first 11 months
of the year. 191 adventurers lost their
lives in that hazardous "pleasure." Auto
mobiling has accounted for 110. and 72
hunters have been accidentally killed. It
Is quite a drop from such ligures to the
11 fatalities of football, with, following in
order, baseball 8, marine 4. and two each
far boxing, wrestling and horseracing.
Holding no brief for football, is It not
yet simple justice that the (admittedly
real) dangers of the game should be
looked at. not as if it were the only sport
of present-day red-blooded young men,
but rather as one of several? Football
ranks far too high in the scale of dan
ger. That is obvious, and the rules com
mittee Is already busied to meet so proper
an objection but, in passing strictures up
on the sport, have an eye true to the
whole perspective. It even might not be
amiss to recall that ballooning has caused
14 deaths in seven years, ani that the In
itial month of this present 1906 saw a 10-year-old
girl killed by a snowball during
a Winter frolic in Hamilton. Ohio.
The Most l'atal "Pleasure."
Mountain climbing has this year
reached its "farthest north" of deaths.
All the figures here given are exclusive
of December and 1906 wrote 191 fa
talities in its record among the hills
of the world. Nincteen-five had seen
179 more than had occurred in any
previous twelvemonth but now an
even dozen has been added -to that
worst total.
"Only the sport of the very few" has
been safd ot mountaineering. Is this
exact? 'The Swiss statistics show ap
proximately 160,00.) making this ascent
or the other each season, and this cov
ers only the Swiss Alps, be it remem
bered, saying nothing of the outlying
portions of the chain nor of other great
ranges. Moreover, only 10 per cent of
the mishaps are laid to what may be
held as unavoidable causes: falling
stones and the like, only eight of the
191 were well-known climbers, and only
48 of the accidents occurred among the
highest and most dangerous peaks.
The nationalities of the dead
strangely enough led by the Swiss
themselves are arranged In order, as:
Germans, French, Austrlans, English,
Italians and Americans.
Tiie Gentle "Hubble."
The "Red Devils" and "Galloping
Ghosts" and "White Whizzers" of the
year have loft a dreadful trail behind
them. January recorded but one death
and February added only two to that,
but November went out with the total
raised to 110, July (the worst of the
11 months) accounting for 22. If with
these be included five fatalities due to
ihf motor cycle, the 12 months' 113,
attributable to motor vehicles, takes
second place in the grim roster of
deaths due t" "sport."
It is possible 'to show that the slow
and steady horse has a good deal to
be blamed for. During September, for
instance, of 38 fatalities in the streets
of London, only four were due to
motors, yet tiie British capital has to
bear its own generous share of tiie '06
auto accidents. Of the entire list, the
worst occurred near Crawley, the Lon
don suburb, when, on July 12. a motor
bus ran away on a hill,, killing 10 in
the crash which followed.
That same month saw, in Buffalo, the
sudden death before a great touring
car, of Professor H. A. Ward, the Chi
cago naturalist, and in June Mrs. James
Tanner, wife of the communder-in-cliief
of tiie Grand Army of the Republic, had
been similarly run down and killed.
In March the Italian Countess of Cor
sini, wife of King Victor's master of
horse, met sudden and horrible death
beneath a car which had broken
through the parapet of a bridge and
fallen into the ravine below.
In the Autumn Months.
Assuming that the football season cov
ers the entire 13 weeks of September, Oc
tober and November, how ddes its dis
agreeable item of 11 deaths compare with
these two other forms of outdoor pleas
ure? In that period 41 mountaineers lost
their lives, 35 autoniobilists and 72 hunts
men. Hunting, indeed, ranks nearly third In
the annual "sporting deaths." Wisconsin,
seems to have the blackest portion of the
list to show, for her first day's record
tells of 39 casualties, 13 of them fatal, but
Maine reported for the first 4S hours of
tne season 6 killed and 7 wounded, so that
the ghastly total of 72 fatalities and 77
other casualties for the entire country ex
hibits a reasonably divided responsibility.
Most of the states figure In the list.
Allen Bradbury, of Newburyport. Mass..
was killed "by accident"; S. J. Buell. of
Constable, N. Y.. was mistaken for a deer
and fatally shot; Herbert Bradley, of
Eagle Dock. N. J., was gored to death by
a maddened stag, and James Aldrich. of
Pottsvllle. Pa., trying to frighten a camp
mate by howling like a wolf outside his
tent, was killed instantly by the charge
which was sent into the bushes where ho
had concealed himself.
Haseball Kills Kight.
The death roster, insofar as its items
fall below football s 11. is headed by S
fatalities which have befallen on the dia
mond field of the National game. Of
these two were spectators, struck In the
one case by a ball and in the other by a
bat, which had slipped from the bats
man's hands on a swing: Thomas Barlow
and Frank Wilson, both of Philadelphia.
Pitched balls, again, accounted for the
deatha of rive players Cas-ior Musselman.
of Allentown. Pa.: Thomas F. Burke, of
Boston: Teller Marina, of Brooklyn:
Charles McDonald, of Camden, and Jesse
Robertson, a sailor in Vnele Sams Navy.;
who was playing at Norfolk. Va. Tho
death of F. R. McKee, near Rolla. Mo.,
in October, was due to a collision with an
other member of his team, while both
were running for a foul hall.
Motor-cycling has killed live this year
two spectators at a race near Paris.
France, dying (October) of injuries re
ceived from an unmanageable machine
while in this country April. May and No
vember, each brought a fatality to a.
cycle rider. Edward K Wallace, a stu
dent at Yale, was thrown while racing
with an automobile, fracturing his skull:
Harry Lynn, of New York Clly. was In
jured similarly in a collision with a tour
ing car on the old Rye pike, and A. P.
Bull. Jr.. of Elizabeth. N. J., met death
under the wheels of a wagon, where he
had been thrown by a collision.
On the Water and the Track.
The motor-boat disaster of i:fw. when
Henry Odinet and John Ferry were
drowned by the capsizing of the. Vesuvi
us, during a lace in the Hudson off ln
wood. seems more properly to fall witli
marine sporting accidents than with the.
far longer list of motor vehicles on land.
Added to tUis September mishap, the
drownings of Charles Hendrickson, of
Falrhaven, N. J.. In February, while ice
yachting; and of Frederick Becker, of
Mochester. N. Y.. in March, while canoe
ing on the Genesee, leaves the fatalities
of the 12 months' water sports at four.
In horsedom the year's two fatalities
compare favorably with the l:i of li'it'i.
E. Sewell. the jockey up on "Licht
mas" in one of the Aqueduct track races,
was killed by a fall In November, ami
Bertrand Fieirhon was (September)
thrown and trampled to death by
hi3 mount "Joe Levy." at Gravesend.
In boxing and wrestling 1JHJ6 has recorded
four deaths, two in each sport. Harry
Strothcanip. of Harrison. N. Y., and
John Bergen, of 'New York City, died
from the effects of heart-blows received
in the (friendly!) amateur ring: and
Frank Powell, of Middletown. and Alex
ander Kemp, of the I'niversity of Penn
sylvania, had their necks broken while
wrestling.
The Square Deal Anil t'heekers.
Such facts and ligures have been gath
ered with no thought of bringing discredit
upon any of the sports referred to, nor
has there been any intention of "bolster
ing up" this mueb-talked-of football rec
ord by dwelling upon the hazard of other
outdoor games. The element of danger
In sport exists wherever there is fascina
tion or' popularity. It exists more mark
edly for the callow boy than for the
man of experience, properly trained to '
meet the conditions in question. And it
would seem only fair that the critical
public should hear something of this sort
in mind, in commenting upon one sport
or the other should have some eye for
tiie whole Held, and so speak with a view
to all the facts.
Nothing is more certain than that hu
manitarian reform will continue its
work. It Is even suggested that it may
soon reach checkers. Why not? There
is a game numbering its victims by the
thousands. Could not some of Its glaring
ly vicious features he modified? To which
good end it is respectfully suggested that
(1) the king row be abolished; that (2)
the jumps be limited to one In any given
direction: and that C.) there be estab
lished a minimum age limit of 7a years
for each player.
Besides, to close where one began, with
football, it has just taken root In China
and Cuba. Is it wine to reform the game
too much until it has worked out its
manifest destiny?
WARWICK JAMRS T1U CE.
"Now I 1.HJ- Me."
SelfCted.
Nrar Ihe rainplire's ttirkerlnK light.
In my blanket bed I lie.
Gazing ihroupli the shal-s of night
At the twinkling alarw on high.
O'er niH hpirits in the ufr
Silent viRtlH seem to kp,
Aa I breathe my childhood s irayr,
"Now I lay me down to sleep."
Sadly sine? tne whlppoorwlll
In" the houKhs of yonder tree,
LailKhingly the dancing rill
Swells l lie midnicht melody.
Foonen may be lurkiiiK near
In the canyon dark and deep
Low I hreutlie in Jesus ear.
"1 pray the Lord my soul to keep."
Mid those stars one face I see
One the Savior turned away
Mother, who in infancy
Taught my bahy lips to pray.
Her sweet spirit hovers near.
In this lontly mountain brake
Take me to her. Savior dear.
'If I should die before 1 wake."
Fainter jrrows the (liekeriiiK light.
As each ember slowly dfes;
Plaintively the birds of niijlit.
''Ill (he air witn sadd' ning cries.
Over me they seem lo cry.
"You may never more awake."
Low I li-p. "If I should di-.
'I pray the Lord my soul to take."
"Now I lay me clown to sleep.
I pray the lyord my soul to keep;
If 1 should die be fore I wake
I pray the Iord my soul to take."
I Killed a Knliln.
Sydney Dayre In youth's Companionk
i kiliuu a robin. Ihe little thing.
Willi scarlet breast on a glossy wing.
That comes in the apple-tree to sins.
I flung a stone as he twittered there;
1 only mean: to give lilm a arare.
Hut off it went and hit hull square.
A little flutter a little cry
Then on the ground I saw him lie;
I didn't think he was going to die.
P.ut as T watencd iilm T soon could se
He never rtouid sing for you or me
Any more on tiie apple-tree.
Never more In tiie morning light.
Never more In the sunshine bright.
Thrilling his song In gay delight.
And I'm thinking every Summer day.
How never, never I can repay
The little life that I took away.