(2814)
SACRIFICIAL MEDIATION
H. M. Stanley, in Africa, had much trouble with his men on account of their inherent propensity to steal, the results of which brought upon the expedition much actual disaster. At last Stanley doomed to death the next man caught stealing. His grief and distress were unbounded when the next thief, detected in a case of peculiar flagrancy, was found to be Uledi, the bravest, truest, noblest of his dusky followers. Uledi had saved a hundred lives, his own among the number. He had performed acts of the most brilliant daring, always successful, always faithful, always kind. Must Uledi die? He called all his men around him in a council. He explained to them the gravity of Uledi’s crime. He reminded them of his stern decree, but said he was not hard enough to enforce it against Uledi. His arm was not strong enough to lift the gun that would kill Uledi, and he would not bid one of them to do what he could not do himself. But some punishment, and a hard one, must be meted out. What should it be? The council must decide. They took a vote. Uledi must be flogged. When the decision was reached, Stanley standing, Uledi crouching at his feet and the solemn circle drawn closely around them, one man whose life Uledi had saved under circumstances of frightful peril, stood forth and said, “Give me half the blows, master.” Then another said in the faintest accents, while tears fell from his eyes, “Will the master give his slave leave to speak?” “Yes,” said Stanley. The Arab came forward and knelt by Uledi’s side. His words came slowly, and now and then a sob broke them. “The master is wise,” he said; “he knows all that has been, for he writes them in a book. I am black, and know not. Nor can I remember what is past. What we saw yesterday is to-day forgotten. But the master forgets nothing. He puts it all in that book. Each day something is written. Let your slave fetch the book, master, and turn its leaves. Maybe you will find some words there about Uledi. Maybe there is something that tells how he saved Zaidi from the white waters of the cataract; how he saved many men—how many, I forget; Bin Ali, Mabruki, Kooi Kusi—others, too; how he is worthier than any three of us; how he always listens when the master speaks, and flies forth at his word. Look, master, at the book. Then, if the blows must be struck, Shumari will take half and I the other half. The master will do what is right. Saywa has spoken.” And Saywa’s speech deserves to live forever. Stanley threw away his whip. “Uledi is free,” he said. “Shumari and Saywa are pardoned.”—Christian At Work.
(2815)
SAFEGUARD FOR DRUNKARDS
Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, has an ordinance requiring the photographs of known habitual drunkards to be placed in all the saloons in the city, with a notice forbidding saloon-keepers to sell liquor to them, on penalty of losing their licenses.
This new sort of rogues’ gallery is growing rapidly, but one addition to it was made voluntarily. It is the photograph of a poor fellow who begged to have it placed with the others, as his only chance of freedom from the tyranny of strong drink.
Set off against this pathetic story, how inhuman seem all the arguments for the licensing of saloons! The pitiable victims of the saloon-keeper would gladly escape his snare, but usually they can not. The insidious liquid has robbed them of their willpower. It has planted in their blood a horrible desire which nothing but more alcohol can satisfy.
(2816)
SAFETY FROM WATER-BROOKS