The Globe-republican. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1889-1910, 1893-05-19
THE SUNDAY ScHOOs
International Lesson for May FL, 1899
Against misrepresentation. e3:29-3O.

International Lesson for May Fl, 1888
Against misrepresentation. 23:29-3O.
/ ARRANGED from Peloubets notes.
GOLDEN TExr.-wine is mocker strong
drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived
thereby Is not wise-Prov. SOL
ISrRoDuCTIoN.-Prof Phelps saying: THE
Old Testament often seems as II i. were IL
spired specially for young men, is verified in
I the present chapter. A father. foreseeing the
social dangers Of a weli-born lad, with
! pleasant manners and a weIi-fllet purse, ad-
vlseS him In regard 10 great banGaetS; then.
with little gush OF affection, entrests him to
/ keep out OF the company Of wine biboers and
| gluttous, who viii surely come TO poverty.
. Finally. with strong, rapid hand. he draws q
! character-Sketch OF the drunkard. which hangs
! in the worlds great picture gallery, a solemn
| warning for all time This picture is the text
Of the lesson for today
! THE SOCIAL QUICKSANDS.
/ 1T sometimes happens on certain
coasts of Brittany or Scotland that a
man, traveller OF fisherman, walking on
! the beach at low tide. far from the
/ bank. suddenly notices that for several
minutes he has been walking with
( some difficulty. The strand beneath
/ his feet is like pitch: his soles stick to
/ it; it is sand no longer-it is glue. The
beach is perfectly dry; but at every
/ step he takes, as soon as he lifts his
/ foot. the print which it leaves fills with
water. The eye. however has noticed
no change. The immense strand is
smooth and tranquil: all the sand has
the same appearance; nothing distin-
| cuisines the surface which is solid from
/ that which is no longer so; the joyous
! little cloud of sand-feas continue to
/ leap unanimously over the wayfarer's
/ feet. The man pursues his way. goes
/ forward. inclines to the land. endeavors
/ to get nearer the upland. He is not
( anxious. Anxious about what? Only
! he feels somewhat as if the weight of
/ his feet increases with every step he
takes. Suddenly he sinks in. He sinks
! in two or three inches. Decidedly he is
not on the right road; he stops to take
| his bearing. All at once he looks at his
| feet. His feet have disappeared. The
/ sand covers them. He draws his feet
/ out OF the sand; he will retrace his
/ steps: he turns back; he sinks in deeper.
| The sand comes up to his ankles: he
! pulls himself out, and throws himself to
! the left; the sand is half-leg deep. He
| throws himself to the right; the
sand comes up to his shins. Then
| he recognizes with unspeakable terror
| that he is caught in the quicksand, and
that he has beneath him the fearful me-
dunn in which man can no more walk
than the fish can swim. He throws Off
his load, if he has one, lighteps him
/ self like ship in distress. 1t
| is already too late; the sand is above
| his knees. He calls, he waves his
hat or his handkerchief: the sand
| gains on him more and more. /
the beach is deserted, if the land is too
far off. if there is no help in sight, it is
! all over. He is condemned to that ap-
palling burial, long, infallible, implaca-
bic, impossible to slacken or to hasten,
which endures for hours, which will not
end, which seizes you erect. free, in full
health, which draws you by the feet,
which at every effort that you attempt,
at every shout that you utter. drags you
little deeper, sinking you slowly into
the earth while you look upon the hori-
ION, the trees. the green fields, the
smoke of the villages on the plains, tho
sails of the ships upon the sea, tho
birds flying and singing, the sunshine
and the sky. The victim attempts to
sit down. to lie down, to creep. Every
movement he makes inters him He
| straightens up, he sinks in; he
/ feels that he is being swallowed
! up. He bowls, implores. cries to
the clouds, despairs. Behold him
waist-deep in the sand The sand
reaches his breast; he is now only a
| bust. He raises his arms, utters furious
/ groans, clutches the beach with his
nails, would hold by that straw, leans
upon his elbows to pull himself out OF
this soft sheath, sobs frenzicdly. The
sand rises. The sand reaches his Shout
! ders; the sand reaches his neck;
| the face alone is visible now. The
mouth cries, the sand fills it-silence.
The eyes still gaze, the sand shuts them
might. Now the forehead decreases,
little hair futters above the sand: a
hand comes to the surface of the beach,
moves and shakes. and disappears 1t
is the earth drowning man. The earth
( ullSO Will tlAC oCCou OOSOAAACo q - oB. ~
presents itself like plain. and opens
like wave."-Victor Hugo. You have
doubtless noticed during this descrip-
ton the striking analogy between the
| quicksand and intemperance. The
young man INDUCES in his social
glass joyously, merrily, until at length
he feels q little of the power of
appetite; but he is not anxious. His
strong will can keep it in check. and he
goes on with his indulgeuces without a
thought of fear. Songs are merry about
him, laughter is loud and frequent; he
is in no danger of crossing the invisible
line between moderation and drunken
ness And yet somehow his feet be-
come unsteady. and his nerves tremble
strangely Suddenly he wakes from
his dream of security to find that last
night he lost control of himself and be-
came the laughing-stock of the street.
He makes resolutions of reform: he will
give up his drinks. Then he finds that
the dregs of the social glass form a
uuicksand that holds his feet with a
terrible power With agony he realizes
| the mower of n oue-cLless thirst lie