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THE LORD’S FARM.“
5T IS IN JERSEY AND AN ASYLUM FOR
THE OPPRESSED.
The Messiah Presides Over the Queer Col:
ony, the members of which Practice the
Mostvkigial Religious Discipline—No! ‘
a. Dollar in the “’orld, but Happy.
A long-haired, out—of—door Evangel-
ist suddenly appeared eight years ago
near the classic regions of Hackensack,
N. J. The new preacher could not fail
to attract much attention. He was pe-
culiar in appearance. His long, curlt
ing hair parted in the middle, and his
unshaven beard and large, eager, wist-
ful eyes caused the most casual passer-
by to acknowledge a certain likeness
to the best—known pictures of the great
, Nazarene.
His oratory was rude but wondero
fully magnetic. He spoke in words
that appealed to men and women
equally. He told in homely but glow-
ing language the story of his own
past life of sin, of his conviction and I
of his conversion.
. THE MESSIAH.
He claimed to have seen visions, and
declared that the Lord directed him in
all he said and did. He entreated the
people to be saved, and with tears
prayed for their conversion.
Village folk flocked to see and hear.
The new prophet, possibly by his
strange and tremendous will—power—
but. as he claimed, by the grace of 5
Godwperformed some truly remark- ,
able cures by the laying on of hands. :
Presently he was chosen leader of a 3
number of the Jerseyite audiences, and
:‘zualiv
Herman Storms, a farmer who
combed to his doctrines.
The homestead of the Storms family
is at present known as the Lord's
Farm, and here the man, who is called
the New Messiah, lives with his dis«
ciples, both men and women, and, at
the end of seven years and of incred-
ible persecutions, peaceably follows
out his peculiar doctrines.
Driving up to the farm, the reporter
was met by the Messiah himself and
the two principal women of the so-
CietX: “
SUC-
an entire household—that of i ,
s .ster heard me.
' and assist him.
i
i
i
I
l
“Thee are weicdnlé'; friend," said
islnason, “though thee be a stranger.
Will thee come inside?"
The younger woman also spoke, say-
ing for the other; “This be Phoebe,
friend, and I be Blandina. Thee are
welcome."
The Messiah, when asked the object
of the community, after a little urging
and a promise not to misinterpret his
statements, said:
“I was convicted of sin in New York
City about ten years ago. I had led
a very fast life—in fact, I was busy
most of the time keeping within the
law and out of the hands of the police.
I never was arrested, though.
“I wandered into a Methodist revival
meeting one night. I thought it was a
police court. It was in a place in
Sixth avenue, near Thirtieth street.
The minister was talking plain truths.
I didn’t like them. They fitted me too
well. I got out, but the next night I
went there again, and the third night
I went up to he prayed for. That was
the most awful night I ever passed. I
knew I had got to go on the Lord's
side, and I knew I’d have to starve
most likely when I did. I kept saying
to myself, ‘I’ve got to do this thing,
and it means that I’ve got to get out
of business,’ for I had never earned an
honest dollar in my life.
“I had my first vision that night. I
saw the Lord, and he spoke to me. I
saw the devil and he spoke to me. I
saw heaven and I saw hell, and I chose '
», i can spare the Lord’s time and visit
1
woven and the Lord.” ,
“Praise the Lord!” quoth Phoebe
from the old sofa. “The Lord’s name
be praised for ever more!” ejaculated
Blandina. Both women looked with
rapturous eyes meanwhile at the Mes—
siah.
. “I nearly starvel,” continued Mna-
son. “I suffered terribly. I had no
place to go. I slept in the streets. The
Lord chastened me, but I needed it,
and I was in His holy hands. Praise
"ix-C- Lord forever!” he said with the
truest fervor, and once more the wo-
1‘31] in unison repeated, “Praise the
and!”
‘I took to expounding the Word,”
zitinued the Messiah, “because the
all told me to. I wandered about
’Zil one place to the other. I didn’t
“our anything about farming, but the
.‘n'd told me to till the soil, so I did it.
~:.:me over to Jersey. I’d get a day’s
r-rk in one place or the other, and at
'ght I’d preach in the village streets
»r in the fields, wherever I could find
any one to listen. Finally I reached
Park Ridge, N. J. The Methodist min-
Hc asked me to come
I did. We conducted
a. big revival. Phoebe here was saved
at that time.”
“Praise the Lord!” said Phoebe.
“We have nothing ourselves. This
farm has been given by us to the Lord.
We work it to the best of our ability.
We have been greatly persecuted by
people who did not understand us, but
we have never retaliated.”
“They took Mnason,” cried Phoebe,
looking at him with all pity, “and beat
him. They knocked him down, out on‘.
his hair and beard and nearly drowned
him in the creek, trying to make him
say he‘d leave the place or live like
other people, and he wouldn't even ape
pear against his persecutors when they
were arrested by the police. We had
meetings, and because we sang and
talked and shut the doors and windows
they arrested us all and sent us to jail
for keeping a disorderly house. They
called us angel dancers because they
saw shadows through the window cur-
tains. By the old blue laws of New
Jersey, it’s keeping a disorderly hous
to make an unusual noise, so they ar-
rested us all.
“We would not defend ourselves, so
we went to court and were convicted
and were a year apiece in the Hacken-
sack jail.”
“Yes, praise the Lord! Now let His
name be praised,” almost shouted
Mnason, “for he allowed us to be per-
secuted as His apostles were for His
sake. We are the followers of the
meek and lowly -One whose pillow was
a stone and whose only luggage was a
cross. We were happlr in jail the
Sheriff is our friend.
“Why, I kept the keys. I used to get
up every morning and open the jail for
the Sheriff,” continued Mnason. “Phoe-
be did all the cooking for his family.
We prayed and praised the Lord day
and night in jail, and the Sheriff’s peo-
ple learned to understand us and are
our firm friends. We all go when we
the Sheriff. When our imprisonment
was over we came back. We hadn’t a
cent, nor a mouthful of food, nor a
bit of fuel.
“The neighbors gave us work, and
now we have got six horses in our
barns and some fine new farm ma-
chinery. We are all well and the
Lord’s people have been taken care if.
Any man. woman or child can come
to the Lord’s Farm at any hour of the
day or night—to stay an hour or a
year, or forever; they will share in
every way with us—food, clothes, our
life, just as it is. If they are able to
work, we invite them to do so. If they
do not wish to work, why, they may
remain idle and we will work for them
and serve them. They never let us do
so for long. They work this farm,
and are running eight other neighbor-
ing ones on shares. 'We do not work
for money. We haven’t a dollar, sep-
arately or collectively, in the world.
We trade produce for everything. We
eat neither moat nor fish, nor anything
that entails the destruction of life. The
Lord gave life. He only has the right
to destroy it. Sometimes out family
is so large that we have to make up
beds on the floors. Last winter we
were twenty-eight souls here! We
may be as we are at present—seven
teen to-night—and to-morrow morning
find that several friends have arrived
during the night. We have two set-
tees here that make comfortable beds
for those that come while we are
asleep, and the chambers upstairs are,
l as thee shall see, very neat and with ‘
WEEKLY - NURWALu - GAZETTE.
1 good, comfortable beds.”
“If, nor," said Phoebe, with tre-
mendous meaning, in the word. “thee
are a newspaper reporter, I do beg
of thee, write of us as we are.”
The blue eyes were full of tears, the
thin, worn hands were clasped in en-
treaty, and the reporter promised
Phoebe begged the reporter to stop
to supper, which was ready, and con—
sisted of bread baked by “John the
Baptist," who was formerly a baker;
a. huge strawberry Shortcake, besides
a large bowl of oatmeal and some
boiled potatoes.
Unlike any other of the modern Mes-
Siahs, Mnasmn declines every and all
luxuries, is more abstemious in his
diet than his disciples, and, it is said
does by far the most fatiguing work
on tie farm. He is regarded almost
with awe by the villagers because his
horses will obey his slightest word,
and he never permits a cross word
spoken to man or beast in his hearing.
When asked if there were not a
number of tramps constantly imposing
upon them, Mnason replied: “We
take in tramps as well as anything
else. God made all men in His image.
I’ve got nothing to do with them be-
fore they enter this gate. If they want
shelter and food, or clothes, why, we
give it to them in the name of the
Lord. If they are willing to work, all
is well. If they are lazy, why, we each
share in the extra work they make and
wait upon them. Often they are ter-
ribly nervous from drink and tobacco;
of course they cannot get that here.
We have four dear friends here now
who have been with us nearly a year.
They were broken down from drink,
and for a good while they were fear-
fully shaky and upset; but, the Lord’s
name be praised! they are both well
and strong now and hard workers and
happy.”
Inquiries at Hillsdale resulted in
tales of the heroism and kindness of
the Lord’s Farm people. One of the
owners of a large farm worked on
shares by the Lord’s Farm people said:
“I never think of having a written con-
tract with them. To the last potato
or car of corn, they are scrupulously
honest. They do a. better day’s work
and a longer one than ever has been
done in this vicinity. They never ill—
treat anything live or still. They
never even leave a stone "9. the road,
for fear it may hurt a ‘ -
They have their own peculiar views,
but no one ever suggests that. they do
not lead perfectly moral lives. They
go miles in winter or summer to carry
food to families in want, even though
they are the very persons who per-
secuted them a. few years back. A
good many of us remember Mary
Storms, now called Blendina when she
was a pretty young girl and a village
belle,. as fond of dancing and picnics
as any girl in town. It seems sad to
think of her out there working so hard
and leading such a. fearfully unnatural
life; but she declares she is perfectly
happy. They are fanatics, otcourse.”
But are they? .aéfiésiihlf‘ii...
THE PASSING OF BEETHOVEN.
Pathetic Story of the Last Time He Ever
Played.
A writer in Temple Bar relates the
following regarding the last time Bee-
ehoven ever played:
“He had been deaf for twenty-five
years, nearly half of his life, when, in
1827, a letter reached him at Baden
from his nephew, the being dearest to
him on earth. The young man wrote
from Vienna, where he had got into a
scrape, from which he looked to his
uncle to extricate him. Beethoven set
nut at once; but his funds were so low
that he was obliged to make the great-
er part of the journey on foot. He
had gone most of the way. and was
31in a few leagues from the capital,
when his strength failed. He was
forced to beg hospitality at a poor and
mean-looking house one evening. The
.nhabitants received the exhausted, ill-
:empered looking, gruff—voiced stranger
with the utmost cordiality, shared their
meagre supper with him, and then
gave him a comfortable seat near the
fire. The meal was hardly cleared
away before the head of the family
)pened an old piano, while the sons
each brough fort-h some instrument,
:he women meantime beginning to
mend the linen. There was a general
:uning up, and then the music began.
As it proceeded, the players, the wo-
men, all alike, were more and more
leeply moved. Tears stole down the
31d man’s cheek. His wife watched
aim with moist eyes and a' pathetic,
far-away smile on her lips. She drop-
)ed her needlework, and her managing
laughter forgot to find fault. She was
istening, too. The sweet sounds left
)nly one person in the room unmoved.
l‘he deaf guest looked on at this scene
with yearning melancholy. When the
:oncert was over he stretched out his
land for a sheet of the music they had
mod. ‘I could not hear, friends,’ he
exclaimed in hoarse tones of apology,
but I would like to know who wrote
:his piece which has so moved you all.
the piano player put before him the
Allegi'ctto’ in Beethoven‘s symphony
n A. Tears now stole down the visitors
:hccks. ‘Ah,’ he exclaimed, ‘I wrote
:t; I am Beethoven! Come and let us
inish the piece.’ He went himself to
:he piano, and the evening passed in :1
'.rue delirium of pleasure and pride for
.he dwellers in that humble musical
ionic. ”When the concerted music was
aver he improvised lovely songs and
sacred hymns for the delighted family,
who remained up far into the night lis-
.ening to him playing.
“It was the last time he ever touched
in instrument. When he took posses-
;ion of the humble room and the couch
illotted to him he could not sleep or
'est. His pulse beat with fever. He
:ould not breathe. He stole out of
loors in search of refreshment and re-
Lurned to bed in the early morning,
:hilled to the heart. He was too ill to
:ontinue his journey. His friends in
Vienna were communicated with, and 5.
ahysician was summoned, but his end
vas at nand. Hummel stood discenso-
ate beside his dying bed. Beethoven
was, or seemed to be, unconscious. Just
refore the end, however, he raised him-
self and caught the watcher’s hand
:losely in both his own. ‘After all,
Hummel, I must have had some talent,’
1e murmured, and then he died.”
A WOMAN WHO LOVES BRIEFS.
Ker Present Position Never Before Held
by a \Voman.
One of the assistant
:ounsels of Chicago is a woman, Miss
Zora B. Hirtzel. Her superior, Mr.
[‘hornton, is being warmly commended~
“or this recognition of the legal talent
if women. Miss Hirtzel was not ap-
iointed because of her sex, but be-
;ause she was an able lawyer. Indeed,
:he has a reputation equal to that of
my member of her profession in Chi-
:ago in the special work of preparing(
I. case for court and in making briefs.
Before her appointment she had been
:mployed by many well known legal
irms in a work of that nature.
Miss Hirtzel was born in Ottawa, 111-
nois, and read law at Oakland, Wis-
:onsin, in the offices of Jackson &
[‘hompson and of ex-Judge George
}ary.' She went to Chicago ten years
go, and entered the office of the late
N. C. Goudy, at the same time taking
he regular course at the Chicago Col-
ege of Law, where she graduated in
.890. Five years ago she left Mr.
loudy‘s employ. Some practice came
0 her, but she preferred the working
mt of legal professions to appearing
n court. l-ler present position has nev—
er hetero been held by a woman.
Hard on the Irishman.
Gentleman (to an Irishman): “Well,
”at, I see you have a small garden."
Pat: “Yes, sir.”
“What are you going to set in it, for
1ext season?"
“Nothing, Sir. I set it with potatoes
ast year. and not one of thLlil came
1p.”
“That‘s strange; how do you explain
1-,?”
“Well, sir, the man next door to me
let his garden full of onions.”
“Well, had that anything to do with
rour potatoes not growing?”
“Yes, sir. Dcdad, them onions was
hot strong that my potatoes couldn’t
tee to grow for their eyes watering!”
\Vhite Animals Cannot; Smell.
Very few animals but pigs and sheep
ire white all over, and it has been
'ound that pure white creatures are ut-
erly deficient in the sense of smell. In
Xfrica white rhinoceroses poison them-
selves sometimes by eating a euphor-
iia, which no other animal will touch,
ind ltalian wool—growers do not like
)ure white sheep, because they are
:lways outing grass and herbs which
in not agree with them.
Pretty Grace O’Malley.
\Vords and Mnsrc by A. J. l’.\'r'ro.\'.
Tempo (71' misc
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child - hood hours.
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\Vherc the myr
How we of -
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ten loved to tell . .
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Copyright, tsmccc‘xcvx, by FRANK HARDING.
Special permission, MUSICAL vas COMPANY. - -
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Norwalk Chronicler