• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Ben's reward for disobedience -...
 Baby's corner
 Her mother's Bible
 Great-great-great-grandma's...
 The hard text - The air brake
 Daniel W.
 Susie's riddle
 An interesting insect
 William Penn
 Willie Lee's thanksgiving
 Rob: A story for boys
 Amber
 Kittie's plaid shawl
 Japanese courtesy - "Finish...
 Studies in French life
 Her mother's Bible
 The hard text
 Baby's corner
 The angels' song
 Laura's Christmas card
 Baby's Christmas
 A thoughtful daughter
 The boy who helped
 Circumstances alter cases
 Grandma's mistake
 Rob: A story for boys
 Behold the babe
 The Christ of Andernach - Aunt...
 Christmas
 The pansy society - From an Islam...
 Ben-Hadad's first Christmas
 The lesson Elsie taught
 Baby's corner
 Her mother's Bible
 Opportunity
 The hard text
 Toby, Ponto, and Bruce
 Helen's New Year's party
 The Carter brothers
 Rob: A story for boys
 Ben-Hadad's first Christmas
 Hungry visitors
 Her mother's Bible
 Baby's corner
 Two disciples
 Two boys
 A talk about Helen Keller
 "Just the truf"
 Some conundrums
 How baby animals are carried -...
 A strange passenger
 Rob: A story for boys
 A helpful daughter
 What is rosewood?
 Her mother's Bible
 People will talk
 Baby's corner
 The baby's lesson
 "Inasmuch"
 The cup of cold water
 A thief found cut
 Out of season
 Gertie's story
 The cunning of a hare - "I can't"...
 Your grandpapa - Blow, March...
 Jack's trouble - Which will...
 Rob: A story for boys
 Puss and Tootens
 The wild celery - Round the family...
 Wonders of man - The "Eiffel...
 "And there were giants in those...
 In other lands
 Mr. Brown, our missionary
 Sacrifice and its reward - The...
 Carl, the commentator
 Jacob Zebi Scheinmann
 The terra del fuegans - Prayers...
 The Mormon boy's question - The...
 The palace of the seths
 Her mother's Bible
 Baby's corner
 Myrtle's "April fool"
 Bessie Carpenter's neighbor
 Through the woods
 I. P.
 Rob: A story for boys
 A colossal blossom
 Two troublesome kittens
 Punishing an elephant - The hard...
 Helen's sacrifice
 A May morning
 Her mother's Bible
 Through the woods
 A practical application
 Sowing and mowing - "Pass...
 The spring freshet
 Merry company
 Rob: A story for boys
 Peruvian whistling jugs
 Only a boy - Greyfriars' bobby
 A curious relic - Children's...
 The hard text - Unscrewing his...
 Among giant trees
 Little Sara's wisdom
 The hard text - Always with...
 Baby's corner
 Good-night! - Her mother's...
 Rob: A story for boys
 How the turtle left
 Is it right?
 Alfred the great - Vacation...
 A June study
 Lost their way
 A missionary in sodom
 A missionary's journey
 "Our stone"
 Her mother's Bible
 Rob: A story for boys
 Discouraging news
 The frightened tiger - Milly's...
 An indispensable article - Round...
 A Bible lesson
 The hard text - Her mother's...
 "One of the least"
 "Figs from thistles"
 Rob: A story for boys
 Loss
 Her mother's Bible
 Baby's corner
 Rob: A story for boys
 How the piano grew
 Her mother's Bible
 The hard text - A prosperous...
 Baby's corner
 Harry's conclusion
 Johnny
 Only thistle down - Little Kate...
 Tabby and her family
 Two ways of obeying
 Rob: A story for boys
 The two shores
 How thimbles are made - Round the...
 The way they earn their living
 Claire's bewilderment
 Pink's lesson
 An old-time scene
 A Chinese funeral - The shetland...
 Baby's corner
 The way grandmother looked...
 Guns - Simplicity in speaking
 Back Cover






Title: Pansy's Sunday book
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00078894/00001
 Material Information
Title: Pansy's Sunday book
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged), 1 leaf of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Pansy, 1841-1930 ( Editor )
D. Lothrop & Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: D. Lothrop Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Publication Date: c1890
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1890   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1890   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: edited by Mrs. G. R. Alden (Pansy) ; with many choice illustrations.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
General Note: Contains prose and verse.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00078894
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002224425
notis - ALG4689
oclc - 181341530

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Page 1
    Title Page
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Ben's reward for disobedience - Dicky's bath
        Page 4
    Baby's corner
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Great-great-great-grandma's story
        Page 11
    The hard text - The air brake
        Page 12
    Daniel W.
        Page 13
    Susie's riddle
        Page 14
    An interesting insect
        Page 15
    William Penn
        Page 16
    Willie Lee's thanksgiving
        Page 17
        Page 18
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 19
    Amber
        Page 20
        Page 21
    Kittie's plaid shawl
        Page 22
        Page 23
    Japanese courtesy - "Finish it"
        Page 24
    Studies in French life
        Page 25
        Page 26
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 27
        Page 28
    The hard text
        Page 29
    Baby's corner
        Page 30
    The angels' song
        Page 31
    Laura's Christmas card
        Page 32
    Baby's Christmas
        Page 33
    A thoughtful daughter
        Page 34
    The boy who helped
        Page 35
        Page 36
    Circumstances alter cases
        Page 37
        Page 38
    Grandma's mistake
        Page 39
        Page 40
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 41
    Behold the babe
        Page 42
    The Christ of Andernach - Aunt Mary's surprise
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Christmas
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
    The pansy society - From an Islam convert's letter
        Page 49
    Ben-Hadad's first Christmas
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    The lesson Elsie taught
        Page 57
        Page 58
    Baby's corner
        Page 59
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 60
    Opportunity
        Page 61
    The hard text
        Page 62
    Toby, Ponto, and Bruce
        Page 63
        Page 64
    Helen's New Year's party
        Page 65
        Page 66
    The Carter brothers
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 71
        Page 72
    Ben-Hadad's first Christmas
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
    Hungry visitors
        Page 77
        Page 78
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Baby's corner
        Page 81
    Two disciples
        Page 82
        Page 83
    Two boys
        Page 84
        Page 85
    A talk about Helen Keller
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
    "Just the truf"
        Page 89
    Some conundrums
        Page 90
    How baby animals are carried - "Exactly the truth"
        Page 91
        Page 92
    A strange passenger
        Page 93
        Page 94
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 95
        Page 96
    A helpful daughter
        Page 97
        Page 98
    What is rosewood?
        Page 99
        Page 100
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 101
    People will talk
        Page 102
    Baby's corner
        Page 103
    The baby's lesson
        Page 104
    "Inasmuch"
        Page 105
    The cup of cold water
        Page 106
    A thief found cut
        Page 107
    Out of season
        Page 108
    Gertie's story
        Page 109
    The cunning of a hare - "I can't" and "I can try"
        Page 110
        Page 111
    Your grandpapa - Blow, March blow!
        Page 112
    Jack's trouble - Which will win?
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 117
        Page 118
    Puss and Tootens
        Page 119
    The wild celery - Round the family lamp
        Page 120
    Wonders of man - The "Eiffel tower"
        Page 121
    "And there were giants in those days"
        Page 122
    In other lands
        Page 123
        Page 124
    Mr. Brown, our missionary
        Page 125
    Sacrifice and its reward - The hard text
        Page 126
    Carl, the commentator
        Page 127
    Jacob Zebi Scheinmann
        Page 128
    The terra del fuegans - Prayers for all men
        Page 129
    The Mormon boy's question - The water of life
        Page 130
    The palace of the seths
        Page 131
        Page 132
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 133
        Page 134
    Baby's corner
        Page 135
    Myrtle's "April fool"
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
    Bessie Carpenter's neighbor
        Page 141
        Page 142
    Through the woods
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
    I. P.
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 149
        Page 150
    A colossal blossom
        Page 151
    Two troublesome kittens
        Page 152
    Punishing an elephant - The hard text
        Page 153
    Helen's sacrifice
        Page 154
        Page 155
    A May morning
        Page 156
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
    Through the woods
        Page 160
        Page 161
    A practical application
        Page 162
        Page 163
    Sowing and mowing - "Pass the pepper"
        Page 164
    The spring freshet
        Page 165
    Merry company
        Page 166
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 167
        Page 168
    Peruvian whistling jugs
        Page 169
    Only a boy - Greyfriars' bobby
        Page 170
    A curious relic - Children's day
        Page 171
    The hard text - Unscrewing his head
        Page 172
    Among giant trees
        Page 173
    Little Sara's wisdom
        Page 174
        Page 175
    The hard text - Always with grace
        Page 176
    Baby's corner
        Page 177
    Good-night! - Her mother's Bible
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 183
        Page 184
    How the turtle left
        Page 185
    Is it right?
        Page 186
        Page 187
    Alfred the great - Vacation song
        Page 188
    A June study
        Page 189
    Lost their way
        Page 190
    A missionary in sodom
        Page 191
    A missionary's journey
        Page 192
    "Our stone"
        Page 193
        Page 194
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 199
        Page 200
    Discouraging news
        Page 201
    The frightened tiger - Milly's adventure
        Page 202
        Page 203
    An indispensable article - Round the family lamp
        Page 204
    A Bible lesson
        Page 205
        Page 206
    The hard text - Her mother's Bible
        Page 207
        Page 208
    "One of the least"
        Page 209
        Page 210
    "Figs from thistles"
        Page 211
        Page 212
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 213
        Page 214
    Loss
        Page 215
        Page 216
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 217
        Page 218
    Baby's corner
        Page 219
        Page 220
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 221
        Page 222
    How the piano grew
        Page 223
        Page 224
    Her mother's Bible
        Page 225
        Page 226
    The hard text - A prosperous Sunday-school
        Page 227
    Baby's corner
        Page 228
    Harry's conclusion
        Page 229
    Johnny
        Page 230
    Only thistle down - Little Kate turns teacher
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
    Tabby and her family
        Page 234
        Page 235
    Two ways of obeying
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
    Rob: A story for boys
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
    The two shores
        Page 244
    How thimbles are made - Round the family lamp
        Page 245
    The way they earn their living
        Page 246
    Claire's bewilderment
        Page 247
        Page 248
    Pink's lesson
        Page 249
    An old-time scene
        Page 250
    A Chinese funeral - The shetland knitters
        Page 251
        Page 252
    Baby's corner
        Page 253
    The way grandmother looked once
        Page 254
    Guns - Simplicity in speaking
        Page 255
        Unnumbered ( 258 )
        Unnumbered ( 259 )
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



PANSY'S SUNDAY BOOK



EDITED BY
MRS G R ALDEN (PANSY)


WITH MANY CHOICE ILLUSTRATIONS




BOSTON
ID LOTHIOP COMPANY












































COFYRxcnr, 1890,


D. LoaTawp CompANY.






BEN'S REWARD FOR DISOBEDIENCE.-DICKY'S BATH.


BEN'S REWARD FOR DISOBEDIENCE.
--
T was Thanksgiving morning, and Bessie,
dressed in furs to her very toes, grasp-
ing the handle of her new shovel, sat
on her new sled, all ready to start.
Papa and mamma and Aunt Emma were go-
ing to church, and from there to Grandma's to
dinner; but Bessie was going to Grandma's
this minute. No church for her, if you please.
It was hard enough for Bessie to sit still on
Sunday; she was sure she could not do it on
Thursday.
Mamma came out when they were ready to
start to tuck the afghan about Bessie's feet,
and to give a last charge to Ben.
"Now, Ben, be sure you don't tip her over
in the snow."
"No, ma'am," said Ben, "I won't," and he
twinkled his eyes at Bessie.
Ben was the chore boy at Mr. Monroe's, and
he and Bessie were excellent friends.
Now they were off, in the frosty air. What
fun it was!
Bessie's merry laugh rang out, as they
passed one group of boys after another, who
made haste to get out of the way of the flying
sleigh.
Suddenly her laugh changed to an exclama-
tion of dismay. They had turned into one of
the narrow cross streets, at the further end of
which was Grandma's back gate. The soft,
newly-fallen snow was piled high on either side,
making almost a wall between them and the
fences. And coming straight towards them
with fiery eyes and foaming nostrils was a run-
away horse!
From street doors and windows people saw
their peril, screamed, and motioned, and waved
their arms, and shouted directions which Ben
could not hear. But he knew what he was go-
ing to do, and almost as soon as he knew, he
did it.
With one skillful plunge, the new sled and its-
precious owner were overturned together in the
great snow banks at the left, Bessie sinking in
out of sight, but Ben was at her side in an in-
stant, and had ploughed his way through the
bank with her in his arms, almost before she
had had time to gasp for breath.


And the danger was over! The prancing
horse had pranced on.
Bessie shook herself like a little Newfound-
land dog, and said, "What for did you do that,
Ben?"
For Bessie was such a wee little goosie, she
did not understand how narrow her escape
had been.
"For fun," said Ben, as he righted the sled,
and set the small maiden on it to finish her
journey.
And to her grave, rebuking "What will
mamma say?" the only answer he made was a
laugh.
What a Thanksgiving dinner was that to
which Ben sat down, some hours, afterward!
Had not Grandma Monroe stood at the back
gate and seen the whole thing?
When she had gotten over her trembling, it
seemed as though she would never have done
piling the dainties on Ben's plate.
"Think what a Thanksgiviiig we should have
had but for him!" she would say occasionally,
with lips that quivered.
Beside Ben's plate lay a shining gold piece.
"It is a Thanksgiving reward for disobedience!"
Papa Monroe had said, trying to laugh as he
laid it on the table.
Then, in answer to Bessie's astonished gaze,
as he lifted her in his arms, You never heard
the like in your life, did you, darling? It is a
virtue that isn't needed very often; but it is
a great thing to know just exactly when to dis-
obey. If Ben hadn't disobeyed mamma this
morning, and dumped you into the snow, we
don't like to think what might have been."
MYRA SPAFFORD.


DICKY'S BATH.

S PITTER, spatter, spitter, spatter,
Spitter, spatter splash!
Hereabout, and thereabout,
And then a little dash!
Dicky likes to make it rain,
And then to comb his wings;
Then he flutters on his perch,
And then, oh! how he sings.
G. PELTON.







BABY'S CORNER.


THE PICTURE NELLIE LOOKED AT.
THE PICTURE NELLIE LOOKED AT.


BABY'S CORNER.


GRANDMA'S DOLLY.


T ITTLE NELLIE lived with her grand-
Sma. Her mamma had gone to Heaven
to live.
A lady gave Nellie a dolly. She
dressed it and nursed it and loved it very much.
But something happened to it. Nellie was
tossing it up and down and it fell on the big
stone by the kitchen door. Its head was made
of china, and smash it went! -all to pieces.
Nellie cried and cried, but that did not mend
dollie.
Grandma was sorry, but she could not spare
any money to buy a new one.
One day it rained. The sky was dark, and
Grandma's room looked lonesome. Grandma
was reading her Bible. Nellie climbed into
Grandpa's chair and looked at her picture book.
When she came to the picture of a little
girl taking her dolly out to walk, she looked at
it a long time. It made her feel sad. "Oh!"
she thought, "if I only.had my dear dolly back
again; but she is gone; I never shall see her
again. O dear! 0 dear!"


And then two big tears stood on Nellie's
cheeks. She wiped them off with her apron.
Then two more tears came, then two more and
two more. All the tears that were in her blue
eyes fell right out. Then came a great sob.
"Why, Dearie! What is the matter?" said
Grandma.
My my dolly is dead, and and -.it's
dark and lonesome," sobbed Nellie.
Grandma- put away her Bible. She took
Nellie on her lap and wiped her eyes and com-
forted her.
"She is my big baby, so she is," Grandma
said. So she rocked and sang an old song
Nellie liked. This is the song:


"Hush a bye baby,
On the tree top,
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall,
Down comes baby,
Cradle and all!"


GRANDMA.






BABY'S CORNER.


This made Nellie laugh and forget to cry.
"I know what I will do," said Grandma. "I
will make a dolly for you such as I used to play
with long, long ago."
How very funny it seemed to Nellie that
Grandma ever played with dollies as she did.


juice. Then she went to an old trunk and
found a white dress that Nellie wore when she
was a baby. She put this on the rag dolly and
tied a red ribbon around its waist and gave it
to Nellie.
Nellie was happy again. She played with


NELLIE SINGS TO HER DOLLY.


Grandma went into the bedroom. She took
an old sheet and rolled it up tight and sewed it.
Then she marked curls on one end for dolly's
head. She marked eyes and nose and mouth
too, and made some pretty red cheeks with beet


her new dolly a long time. She did not care
if it did rain.
Grandma made a bright fire and got a nice
supper and Nellie sung Hush a bye baby" to
her dolly. MRs. C. M. LiVINGsTON.


'luie @^- Bab3 On the., te-tip 1






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.

BY PANSY.

INCLINE MY HEART UNTO THY TESTIMONIES AND NOT TO
COVETOUSNESS.
TiUST IN THE LORD AND DO GOOD; SO SHALT THOU
DWELL IN TilE LAND, AND VERILY THOU SIIALT BE FED.
BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BUI'RDENS AND SO FULFILL THE
LAW OF CHRIST.
THE LORD OUR GOD WILL WE SERiVE, AND HIS VOICE
WILL WE OBEY.

Y ES," said Mrs. Selmser, fingering the
leaves of the large old Bible with loving
touch, it'ss all I got; no, I wasn't disappointed,
because I didn't expect anything. Maria was
the youngest child, and mother has lived with
her so many years it stood to reason that she
would leave everything to her. To be sure, as
Reuben says, Maria has enough, and more than
enough, while we find it pretty hard work to
make the two ends meet; but then, mother
didn't sense that; she was old, you see, and
didn't think much about money matters, any-
how; and she had no great to leave, I suppose;
she has always paid her way at Maria's. Those
children were great pets of hers, of course, be-
ing with them ever since they were born; she
didn't know our children much. Mother wasn't
able to travel for a number of years before she
died, and we could never afford to take the
children to see her; so it was all natural enough,
and I'm not a mite disappointed, though I can
see that Reuben is, just a little; that's natural,
too. But I've got the old Bible, and I'd rather
have it this minute than anything mother had
to leave. You see it is the one she used regu-
larly for years and years, and it is all marked
up with her verses. You can't hardly turn a
page but you will come across a verse marked
in red ink, or blue ink, or green ink; mother
was a great hand to mark her Bible, and so was
father. It makes the verses kind of stand out,
you know, so you are obliged to think about
them, even if you are in a hurry; and it kind
of seems to help you get the sense of them; I
don't know why, I'm sure; Mii I didn't think
so. She never liked to see a Bible marked up;
she said it didn't look neat.
I suppose that was why mother gave the


message to me that she did. Said she, Jane,
I'm going to leave my big old Bible to you and
your children; I have a feeling that it will help
you more than it will Maria or John.' Some
way it did me good to have mother say that,
and know that she had thought about it and
planned to leave her Bible to us; and I'm right
glad to get hold of it. I tell the children I
hope they will learn every one of the marked
verses this year, and store them up; because
their grandmother never marked verses at ran-
dom, as you may say; she picked them out to
live by."
All the while she talked, Mrs. Selmser kept
up that tender little almost caressing touch of
the worn Bible, and as she turned its leaves and
one caught glimpses of the marked verses, it
gave the impression that the grandmother had
lived on a great many.
"Yes," said Mrs. Selmser, smiling fondly,
when her attention was called to this, "my boy
Ralph says, 'Why, mother, if we undertake to
learn all of Grandmother's verses, we might as
well learn the whole Bible and be done with it.'
And I tell them I don't know as they could
learn anything that would make them wiser."
Miss Edwards, her caller, reached for the
Bible and turned the leaves with careful fingers
and paused over some of the marked verses
with interested face.
"Trust in the Lord and do good; so shalt
thou dwell in the land and verily thou shalt be
fed," read Miss Edwards. "That is heavily
marked."
"Yes; and I make no doubt there was a story
belonging to it if I only knew it.1 If you look
close you will see father's initials in the corner,
and the letters T. P. made very small. You
know about the old lady who marked her Bible
all over with T. P.'s, don't you? Why, she
meant tried and proved. That story made a
great impression on father, I know, and he used
to mark some verses that way; so did mother.
I know some of the stories. I only wish I knew
all of them."
"I only wish they would come true to us, as
well as to grandfather and grandmother," said
young Ralph in a doleful tone as he leaned over
his mother's shoulder and looked at the heavily
marked verse.






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


"Ralph," said his mother reproachfully, while
the visitor regarded him with a questioning
smile, have you tested it?" she asked. But
Ralph, blushing much, had no reply to make.
"Do you know what a hard time the Smiths
are having?" said Mrs. Sclmser, closing the
Bible, as one who had turned to entirely another
subject. "Ralph here, found out by accident
that they were actually hungry-those children,
you know. Doesn't that seem hard? I declare,
when I heard how poor little Mamie snatched
after a bit of bread, it made the tears come."
Miss Edwards had not heard about them;
she asked many questions, and said that directly
after Thanksgiving she would go and see them.
Then she went away. No sooner was she out
of hearing than Mrs. Selmser had something to
say. "I was soriy you spoke in that way about
the verse, Ralph; if Miss Edwards should ever
hear anything about that chicken, she would
think you didn't want them to have it."
"She won't ever hear about it," said Ralph;
" and besides, you know I said all the time that
those chickens were dreadful little to make one
do for a big family like ours; Thanksgiving
Day, too."
"Yes, but, Ralph, you know the Smiths had
nothing at all for dinner, and one chicken is
better than nothing, isn't it?"
We might have sent them something else,"
Ralph said slowly. It had evidently been hard
work for him to give up that chicken.
"But we hadn't anything else, my boy, that
we could spare, that would have been a kind of
a treat to the Smiths. Don't you really think,
on the whole, that we did the best we could?"
Ralph gave a little sigh, then looked at his
mother and laughed.
"It's all right, mother," he said, "only you
see I had kind of set my heart on our having
those two chickens on Thanksgiving Day all to
ourselves; most folks have turkeys, you know,
but I told myself I would be contented with
chickens, if we could have two of them, and
lots of gravy. It. isn't for the eating either,
that I care so much, it is just because I wanted
to be like other folks, you know."
"I understand," the mother said cheerily,
" and you wanted the Smiths to have a good
dinner, too; I know that just as well as though


I could look right into your heart. You
wouldn't have had them miss of that chicken
for anything, now would you?"
Ralph- laughed again, and said he didn't know
as he should, and went away whistling. As
for Miss Edwards, no sooner was she out of the
house, than for some reason she changed her
mind, and went at once to call on the Smiths.
Here she heard wonderful stories; they had
been in trouble, but they believed their darkest
day had passed, thanks to their neighbors. Mrs.
Smith constantly wiped away the tears as she
told of the many thoughtful kindnesses of Mrs.
Selmser and her family. "And they are poor
themselves," said Mrs. Smith; "I dare say
they have scrimped themselves a good deal to
help us all they have."
Miss Edwards did not doubt this, for she
knew a good deal about the Selmsers. Their
crowning act of kindness, if Mrs. Smith is to
be depended upon, was that chicken. Such a
wonderful story as she heard about it! H-ow
it, with its companion, had been the special
property of Ralph Selmser, the sole survivors
of a brood of seven, all the others having come
to grief; how Ralph had confided to her boy
Peter that he was raising those chickens for
their Thanksgiving dinner, and how he and his
mother were going to give the father a surprise;
and then to think that they should be willing
to change all their plans, and get along with
only one chicken for themselves, was almost too
much, Mrs. Smith thought. "It isn't as though
they had plenty to give," she said, wiping her
eyes, "but they have been ready to divide their
little with the widow and fatherless; I hope
the Lord will make it up to them."
Mrs. Smith had still more reason for gratitude
before that call was concluded, but it is not
about her that I want to tell you at lpesent.
I want you to think of Ralph Selnser as
looking out of the window on the morning be-
fore Thanksgiving, when little Tim Potter, who
was everybody's errand boy, appeared in sight,
holding on with both hands to the largest tur-
key Ralph had ever seen.
To his great surprise, Tim opened their side
gate, and squeezed himself and the turkey
through it. He rushed to the kitchen door to
see what was wanted, and the turkey was laid






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


at his feet in silence, and Tim was off like the
wind.
A note was found pinned to the turkey's leg,
but when it was examined it said only this:
"For Ralph Selmser to give his father and
mother a Thanksgiving dinner." And below
it, these words: "Trust in the Lord and do


good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and
verily thou shalt be fed."
While the others all talked at once, wonder-
ing how, and why, Ralph stood back with folded
arms, and looked at the turkey.
"It is Grandmothers Bible that did it," he
said at last.


LITTLE TIM POTTER.




























~4


:yy


COLUMBUS'S 2IOST SUCCESSFUL VOYAGE.


:I)








GREAT-GREA.T-GREAT-GRANDMA'S STORY.


GREAT-GEAT-GREREAT-GRANDMA'S
STORY.

Y OU see, my children, it was long ago,
And times were pretty tough, I'd have
you know;
Not since we landed on old Plymouth Rock
Had things looked worse in house, or bin, or
shock:
Drought in the summer, then an early frost,
One ox astray, a cow and heifer lost;
So, when the early snow began to fall
We didn't see how we'd live through it all.
Thanksgiving Day, besides, was nigh at hand,
And how could heart give thanks with nothing
in the hand ?
Grandpa had gone to hunt, hoping that early
snow
The tracks of deer or something else might
show;
And for two days I waited his return,
Little to eat, and scarcely wood to burn.
The night had settled down both dark and
cold,
And I with heart.more dreary sevenfold,
Longed so for him, whom, dearer far to me
Than all things else, my eyes might never see!

We had two pigs, one cow, and that odd ox
To keep alive. Among the trees and rocks
The cattle browsed throughout the day,
For small indeed was the supply of hay.
Our little pigs snoozed in their leafy bed
Shut safely up, we thought, within the shed,
And thus I waited, listening to the owl,
Thinking at times I heard some wild wolf howl!
How could I sleep? Why should I go to bed?
I'd wait till his return, alive or dead,
And thus I waited, wondered, walked the floor,
Still heard the screech-owl, louder than before.
At last I dozed, and had a little dream;
So strange, when one's asleep, do all things
seem!
I thought some one was pushing at the door,
Then all seemed still again, just as before.
Then waking, heard a sudden, awful noise!
Louder it sounded than half a dozen boys;
And then a "bang!" the echo of a gun,
And then a shout, "Hurrah, that was well
done,"


And then my heart! how it did bump and
thump
While I sat stupid as a hemlock stump;
For, twixtt the fright and joy, I felt all gone;
With hardly strength enough to welcome John.
You see, I knew his voice, the old gun's, too,
And there they both were back, all sound; as
good as new!
I soon unbarred the door and flung it wide;
And in his great strong arms he pressed me to
his side.
And then he told me how for us wouldd easy be
To keep Thanksgiving on the morrow. See?"
And then he led the way out of the cabin door
(The moon was up, and shone across the floor),
And there, my eyes! Shall ever I forget?
There stood old Brindle, our old Brindle yetl
Across his back hung two big strapping deer,
We'd seen no nicer ones for many a year.
"And now," says John, "we'll see what else
we've got-
What kind of turkey came from that last shot."
And led the way to where we kept the swine,
Within their little pen of logs of pine.
I wondered what on earth he thought to find
As he strode on before, and I came up behind;
When lo! upon the leaves before us there,
Right in our pig-pen, lay a big black bear!
He last embraced one of our pretty pigs,
When Grandpa's shot ended his wicked rigs.
'Twas late that night when we took "'count of
stock,"
And John was hungry after such a walk,
And so I broiled a bit of one fat deer;
He said, "The best he'd tasted for a year."
When all was done, and we had talked till late,
Tied up old Brindle with his lonesome mate,
Strung up old Bruin, hung the deer away,
It 'peared to me it must be nearly day.
"And now," says John and I was quite
agreed -
"Let's thank the Lord for giving all we need."
"And for my husband, and the piggy, too,"
I added; though wouldd never do
To say such prayer as that, you know, aloud,
With him alone, much less when in a crowd!
At last we fell asleep, and there we lay
One blessed half of that Thanksgiving Day;
In spite of rooster, pigs and geese and cattle,
We slept right on, regardless of their rattle.






THE HARD TEXT.-THE AIR BRAKE.


We lost the sermon, that is doubtless true,
And some things not so good, it may be, t(
But never since, in all our livelong days,
Were ere our hearts more full of, ger
praise.
Well, you may smile, my dears, you may,
wonder,
And say 'twas more, much more than his c
blunder
That made your Grandpa's shot the 1
winner
To. save our pig and spoil young Br
dinner;
And that it was, and still with so much j(
share,
I always did, feel sad for that poor Mrs. Be
Who waited long and watched and watch
vain,
For him who never could come back again
And for the little cubs, on that Thanksgivi
Who had to suck their paws, their only ch
for living.
UNCLE HEZEKII


THE HARD TEXT.

Gal. vi. 2: Bear ye one another's burdens.
Gal. vi. 5: Every one shall bear his own burden.
Ps, Iv. 22: Cast thy burden upon the Lord.

ONE day Martha went over the way t
pump with a four-quart pail for
water, and soon returned to her mother wi
An hour later she went with an eight-(
pail and, filling it, tried to carry it back
could not. Her neighbor, Mark, happened
be there with his three-quart pail. He of
to carry hers and let her carry his, and so
did and got on nicely.
Sometime after they were both at the p
again, each with an extra pail. They were
filled, but when they tried to lift them all
go forward they could not. Just then
good friend Moses came along and, seeing
trouble and their pleading looks, came to t
and with his two strong arms took up th
tra heavy pails of water and easily and c
fully carried them to their homes, while
followed with their other pails.
Maybe this will aid you to see that 1


three texts are not so hard, after all; that they
do not go against each other, but go rather
hand in hand.
Suppose you send me, in not more than three
sentences, what you think those verses mean,
and maybe some of your -commentaries-
will be printed. Some of you are to be teachers
or preachers or to write notes on the Bible; this
will be one way to make ready. Take your
time. Think. Write your notes carefully.
"With a pencil?" No, no, NO!


THE AIR BRAKE.


ar QOMEWHERE I heard a story like this:
d in kJ A wealthy man was walking upon the
railroad track. A robber suddenly came upon
; him and knocked him down, quickly took all
ng, his valuables, and fastened his hand to one of
ance the rails so that the train might run over him
and thus make it appear that he was killed by
MH. being run over.
Thus the robber thought he would escape
'detection. Then he got away into the woods
as fast as he could go. On came the train at
great speed; but the engineer saw the body
lying there, and, by means of the air brake, the
train was quickly stopped, the body removed
from the track, and, after a time, revived. The
o the robber had not killed the man, as he supposed,
some but only stunned him.
th it. But for the air brake the train would have
quart crushed his body.
, but The joy of his family on receiving the dear
Ad to father safe and sound, after such an awful peril,
Eered no words can tell. Can you blame them for
they thanking and praising the inventor of the
brake?
.ump "What is it?" A contrivance whereby a
soon great pressure is quickly brought to bear upon
and the car wheels, preventing them from turning.
their There is much about it which you must learn
their by talking with some kind, patient engineer.
hem, Only a few days ago I saw the wife of the
e ex- inventor. She gives a great deal of money to
heer- those in need, making many hearts happy.
they Now, can't you think of something to keep
all the dust and cinders out of the cars?
;hose C. M. L.






,DANIEL W.


DANIEL W.

HAT boy, nearly at a right angle in
Sthe picture, is Daniel somebody. His
schoolmate stands behind him with his
hands in his pockets, watching to see
which will win, Daniel or Daniel's old
hen. For you must know the two are having
a warm controversy on the question of setting,
the hen in the affirmative, Daniel in the nega-
tive.
They-the two boys, not the hen-have
just come from school, where they have listened
to quite a discussion or lecture about reasoning


THE TWO DISPUTANTS.
with people, and even with animals, when they
are in the wrong, and so persuading them over
on the right side, instead of going at them pell-
mell and trying to compel them to think and
act as you do.
Now our little Daniel had carefully listened
to the arguments for such a course of treating
those who do not agree with you, and he made
up his mind to try it the first opportunity.
So when school was out, and the two in
the picture were on the way home, Daniel
laid the matter of his setting hen before his


mate, asking if he would advise letting her go
on and set as she seemed determined to do, so
late in the fall.
Immediately a warm debate ensued, Daniel
urging that the chickens would perish, if hatched
so late in the season; the other saying that all
the fun a hen has 'is with her chicks, and that
she has as much right to enjoy herself as any
body else.
The discussion was still going on when they
entered the yard, in one corner of which was a
tub,-and in the tub some hay, and in the hay
some eggs, and upon the eggs mother hen, with
one eye nearly shut, and dreaming how in a
few weeks she'd hop out of
-the tub and go marching about
the barnyard with as hand-
some a family as ever sat down
to a dish of Indian meal.
So along came the two dis-
putants, faces flushed over their
question, each trying to speak
faster than the other, Daniel
finally saying he knew he could
convince mother hen of her
duty to postpone setting till
the next spring.
That is what he is at now.
The old lady is pleading her
cause with her mad eyes and
bill and sharp claws. She can't
see why the rights of hens
should not be respected. Didn't
she lay the eggs? Daniel could
not make one to save his life.
Then let her alone; she knows
best about baby chickens.
But Daniel thought differ-
ently so labored with the hen to have her wait.
My impression is that he failed to convince her,
and amid sundry squalls and scratches, gathered
up the eggs and got out of the way, leaving her
one of the maddest hens that ever clucked.
But Daniel was sure that the way to do with
people who differ with you was to reason them
into a better frame of mind if you can.
Now guess who this Daniel became. TAjs
much I'll tell you, he was one of the greatest
senators of the United States. Now do you
know? C. M. L.







SUSIE'S RIDDLE.


SUSIE'S RIDDLE.

HAVE a riddle for you to-day," Susie
S said to us (and then she remembered
to tell us "good-morning") when we
came into papa's library for our talk on
Natural History.
So papa asked her to tell us all about it, and
then he laughed and said "good-morning."
"Go ahead, Susie," called out Roy. "I am
ready to guess."
Well, it is a whole family. Some of them
look like diamonds, some like fiery
ribbons waving about, and some
like orbs of metal. I believe all
of them cariy a disc like an um-
brella-which is strange, as they
live in water already."
"What do they use their um-
brellas for, then?" said I. "It
can't be to keep off the rain."
"O, no!" answered Susie; "it f
contracts and dilates continually,
and helps them to move along and
keep on the surface of the water.
This umbrella is fringed with ten-
tacles, sometimes thread-like, and I
sometimes shaped like leaves, and
the mouth is in the centre of the
under side of the umbrella, and
that generally has tentacles, too."
"What are tentacles?" asked
one of the children--it wasn't I,
for I had been looking in the dic-
tionary while Susie was talking.
"They are like arms, or hooks,"
she replied.
"It seems to me like an um-
brella playing .a big game of
Grab," I remarked.
Papa laughed, and said, "That is very true,
for the umbrella really is the creature itself,
and it swims about, catching with its tentacles
small fishes, crustacea and all the small sea
animals that come nearit. It has an immense
appetite."
"There is a small one that lives in British
waters," began Susie again, "that is the very
size and shape of a very small child's tumbler,
and so looks very innocent. But it is as bad as


a young giant when it eats, for it can pout its
mouth out to twice the length of its body, Pro-
fessor Forbes says, and makes its stomach as
big in proportion."
Roy whistled. "That isn't the most won-
derful one either. There is one that stings,
and as it goes flapping along with ever so many
tails and arms, just like loose ribbons, if it hap-
pens to find a man in its way it wraps these
around his arms and legs, and stings him
terribly."
"I should think a man could cut the creat-


J.LLY FISH.
ure in pieces if he had a knife," remarked
George.
There is no need of that," said papa, with
a twinkle in his eye. "The creature has no
objection at all to cutting off his own arms and
tails, and swimming away, but that does no
good, for the cast-off limbs keep on stinging
and burning just the same."
"It would rather break up into pieces than
not," added Susie. "Whenever it gets lone





AN INTERESTING INSECT.


some and thinks it would like to have a big
family, it only has to stop awhile and grow,
and then it splits up into ever so many--
what?"
"Oh! I know," said Roy, into ever so many
jelly fishes."
Yes," answered Susie, "but not like the
parent. These arc real star-shaped jelly fishes,
and their children are like the original one.
All the children are different, but the grand-
children are like them, and so it keeps on like
a chain."
"There is another way the families are
formed in other kinds of jelly fish," remarked
papa. They breed and sprout young ones in
all stages of growth, some just budding, some
nearly grown, until the parent is quite covered
with them. There is a writer on this subject
who was much amused by this, and says, only
fancy an elephant sprouting out into young
elephants all over his ears and shoulders and
body! But these jelly fishes are of a lower
class of animals, and are much more like plants
than more highly organized creatures. It does
not seem strange for a rose-tree to bud out into
fresh roses on every twig."
"I have seen some of these jelly fishes that
looked so transparent and watery that they did
not seem to be solid at all. They must be
almost nothing dried."
"They are extremely light as soon as they
lose the fluid part. One which weighs two
pounds alive, will not be more than thirty
grains when it is dead and the liquid is dried
u1p."
"They do not seem to need much to fit them
for the battle of life," said I rather dolefully,
for all my lessons had to be learned for to-
morrow, and papa had been scolding me for
being idle. "Only a mouth, a stomach, and
an umbrella!"
Would you be satisfied only to be a stupid
jelly fish?" asked Susie.
You forgot all the hooks," put in Roy.
"Do you want to do nothing but eat, sting
and grab?" went on papa-like the moral of
a story -" I thought you liked being a boy,
who was going to be a man one of these days."
I concluded that papa was right, as he usually
is. E. F. M.


AN INTERESTING INSECT.

AMMA, please, quick! There is a
naughty old flea biting me. Won't
you get him? Here, under my col-
lar," cried Willie imploringly, rush-
Sing into the sitting-room where his
mamma sat sewing.
In a few minutes Willie had the pleasure of
seeing Mr. .Flea 'securely fastened under the
magnifying-glass, his biting at an end for the
present.
"Now, who would ever think that such a
miserable, small black thing as you could make
a fellow dance around like a hopping-toad,"
mused Willie, as he looked through the glass
and critically examined his tormentor.
"I am sure, mamma, that no matter how
useful some other.insects may be, a flea is good
for nothing in the world but to torment people,"
with an underlying contempt in his tone for
even a flea that was capable of nothing but
teasing, though, to tell the truth, our Willie-
boy was very fond of that pastime himself.
What would you say were I to tell you
that fleas have been taught many very wonder-
ful tricks?" answered mamma.
"A flea taught anything!" exclaimed Willie.
"Why, surely, mamma, you are joking."
Come and hold this zephyr for me, and I
will tell you a story I read about them."
The invitation being eagerly accepted, mamma
continued: "A long time ago, when I was in
school and studying entomology, that part of
Natural History that treats of insect life, our
teacher told us of an exhibition which he at-
tended, where a number of 'learned fleas,' as
they were called, were taught to draw a little
cannon and a carriage, and perform many won-
derful tricks. The tiny cannon was made of
gold, and was perfect in all its parts. The
manager placed it on a plate of glass, and two
flea horses were harnessed to it by a gold chain,
which was fastened to the thighs of their hinder
legs.
Two other fleas drew a little gold carriage
with four wheels, and a third one sat on the
coach-box and held a splinter of wood for the
whip."
"But, mamma," interrupted Willie, "were







WILLIAM PENN.


not the cannon and carriage heavier than the
fleas ?"
"Yes, much heavier; and yet they were drawn
with ease. You have no idea of the strength
pf a flea. Why, it sometimes takes leaps two
hundred times the length of its own body."
"Please tell me some more things those
learned fleas' did," continued Willie.
"This, I think, was the most wonderful
thing of all: thirty other fleas were taught to
go through a military exercise, standing on their
hind legs, and holding up little splinters of
wood for guns. All these little insects knew
their master, and did at once what he ordered
them to do."
Now manmma said at once with her usual
sweet smile, and did not even look "a whole
sermon," as Willie was wont to put it, but all
the same a rosy blush suffused our little boy's
face, and the figures in the carpet seemed to
possess an unusual attraction for him. Can
you guess why?
"But," continued mamma, "these wonderful
feas were, after all, a little like some boys and
girls I know of course I don't mean any one
in particular-in that they get a trifle lazy
once in a while, when their master would wake
them up by burning a live coal over them.
They were fed by being placed on a man's arm,
from which they sucked the blood."
"'I thought the flea in them would show
itself soon," answered Willie, an undertone of
triumph in his voice.' But really, mamma, if
any one but you had told me that story, I
could hardly have believed it. I'll never say
again that there is anything too small and
miserable to be good for something-or rather,
taught something."
A few hours after, when engaged upon a task
that had been set him, mamma overheard Willie
say, under his breath, almost, "Whew! if a flea
can do so much, what oughtn't a boy"-but
hearing the rustle of a dress near by, he suddenly
discovered a number- of unseen things that re-
quired immediate attention. MARY HowE.

THE bad man, diffusing the hue of his own
spirit over the world, sees it full of treachery,
selfishness and deceit. The good man is con-
tinually looking for and sees noble qualities.


WILLIAM PENN.

u ILLIAM PENN was a good
a/Cslf ST man, therefore it is well for
you to know something about him.
The lives and characters of the
good we should study, and try to
become like them. He was born
1644; died 1718. Penn's father was an ad-
. miral, and Penn himself was brought up at
court. He was a member of the church called
Friends. The Friends are an earnest Christian
people, and opposed to war. Their religious
customs are very simple. I have known several
belonging to this sect, and I love them very
dearly. William Penn was a rich man, as his
father bestowed upon him a large estate. He
was a benevolent man, and likewise always
doing good to others. His father had a large
claim against the Crown of England, and in
consideration of this, Penn asked for a grant of
land in our country. This was given him.
The tract comprised forty thousand square
miles, west of the Delaware, and Penn wanted
to call it Woodland or Sylvania, but the king
preferred the name Pennsylvania instead -
naming it after the father of William. Penn
now set to work in earnest. He offered lands
to emigrants, and some of the Germans came,
and their settlement was called Germantown.
The good Penn desired every one to worship
God in the manner most pleasing to the wor-
shiper. He was an advocate for peace, so
wanted all disputes settled without going to law.
He was to be Governor. He also wanted the
rights of the poor Indians to be respected.
Penn soon laid out Philadelphia, which means
the City of Brotherly Love. He labored hard
to befriend the Indians. There is a monument
in Philadelphia to mark the site of the elm
under which Penn made his compact with the
Indians. He paid them for their lands, and
made them gifts, too. This treaty was kept
sacred for sixty years. When Penn went to
England he hoped soon to return and end his
life here. But for years he was kept there, for
even this good. man had enemies there and in
America, and so his affairs became entangled.
He died in England, and left a loved and hon-
ored name. RINGWOOD.





WILLIE LEE'S THANKSGIVING.


WILLIE LEE'S THANKSGIVING.

A LITTLE boy in girlish frocks,
Not out of long bright curls,
That he knows to his deep sorrow
Are like a little girl's,

Has to learn his daily lessons,
As he stands at mamma's knee-
Only just a little foretaste
Of the lessons yet to be.

But it's hard for little Willie -
So very, very hard -


Who wants to scamper all the day
About the sunny yard.

He has lots of time to do it,
But, Willie wants it all
To chase the big bright butterflies
And build his mimic wall.

And so he stands one morning,
This naughty little boy,
Looking at the growing turkeys
And envying their joy


As they freely peck and wander
As the wandering wind is free,
And have no dread before them
Of -lessons yet-to be.

"I wish I was a turkey,'
Burst out this little Will,
"I should a 1\\wn do's I want to,
And not have to keep still,

"And never learn a lesson,.
Through all the long, long day;
I wish I was a turkey,
Now that is what I say."

In the month of chill November,
One morning little Will
:Is standing in the same wide yard
Most wonderfully still, '

Looking down in deep dejection
Upon a slaughtered row .
Of plump and comely turkeys'
Which make a goodly show.

They are ready for Thanksgiving,
The only end they had,
In all their summer living
In the sunshine warm and glad.:

And. Willie's brain is busy,-
And this is what he thinks.
As he st:l.il- by the dead turkeys
And.a little-from them-shrinks:

"This is what turkeys grow for,
They haven't any soul,
Only just nice turkey bodies,
And that is just the whdle!

"Mamma says I have, a lot of things
To be thankful for each day,
And the real Thanksgiving's coming,
I heard my papa say.

"I can think of lots of things I know,.
But one thing most of all
Has come to me to think of,
And 'tis new to me this fall.

"I'm glad I'm not a turkey!"
And his voice rings out with joy,
Glad I'm not a poor killed turkey!
But just mamma's little boy."
EMILY BAKER SMA:LLNL


IIIl








































































----_- -.- -. - ,


;_= = s -.- =- -__,, : y ._ -.^-= .=. _;- '_ _" -=-. _"-_ ^-_ -.. =.-_ --. .: ^- ,-= -- -- --.--
M C7A


S F--.-- O .-- --
-.-


MUSIC FROJt AFAR.






ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.


ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

BY MARGARET SIDNEY.

CHAPTER I.

HERE is that boy?"
I iMiss Philena looked up. It
wasn't in nature to expect her to
S' hold her gaze to the blue stocking
she was laboriously heeling off,
with that voice ringing in her ears.
However, she said nothing, being used to keep-
ing her tongue between her teeth.
"Do you know ?" came at last, a direct ques-
tion.
"I s'pose he hasn't got home from the mill."
You s'pose. Well, if I had him here now,
he'd know better'n to l'iter over that job.
When'd he start?"
"Oh! something more'n an hour ago." Miss
Philena leaned forward in her high-backed
rocker to get a leisurely view of the corner
clock.
"Humph i" It was more of a grunt than an
exclamation, and the speaker thrust his hard
hands into his pockets, and walked to the one
window yielding a view of the road. Beside
the thoroughfare, occasionally furnishing bits of
pictures, constantly changing as the pedestrians
and the few people with vehicles passed, there
was not much to provide entertainment for the
inmate of Joel Slocum's home, housed on a mid-
winter day. A few gnarled apple-trees in a
corner of the house-lot shook their ragged
branches in the wind, twisting themselves into
various distortions and affording but scanty
shelter for the score or more of hungry fowls
who fluffed out their feathers in the vain at-
tempt to keep warm under them. Now and
then a lean and ill-favored cur would, diversify
matters by rushing down from the old porch to
bark and show all his teeth at them. When
they scattered in all directions, the dog would
go slowly back to throw himself down again on
the porch-floor to watch them reassemble. At
such times there would be a temporary excite-
ment within doors, and Miss Philena would
catch herself peering out of the window for any
chance guest. But such personages rarely ap-


peared, and soon all things settled down to a
dead level again.
The house, square and roomy, had in its time
been a fine old family mansion. It would be
hard to imagine it ever brilliantly lighted at
night, or overflowing with life in the day time.
Yet such had been the case even in Joel and
Philena Slocum's youth. But that was long
since; and the brother and sister, the only rep-
resentatives of the family who chose to remain
in New England, had gradually withdrawn
from people,-and, as a natural sequence, losing
interest in others, had at last lost enthusiasm
for their own especial life-work, and instead of
keeping the farm and homestead up to its for-
mer air of opulent content, had let the one run
down through lack of work, and had shut the
other up, one room after another, till now, the
only apartments used were the kitchen and two
bedrooms if we except a small room in the ell,
for Rob.
"That boy grows worse and worse," growled
Joel, going to the window for the twentieth
time. It's because we let him have his head
so much."
Miss Philena folded her knitting-work with
extreme deliberateness. "You're getting' ner-
vous," she said. "We might as well have
tea," and she proceeded to get out of her chair,
an operation always attended with difficulty,
after sitting long.
Joel regarded her with disfavor. "You
grow stiffer every day," he observed, not minc-
ing matters.
I s'pose I do," she answered coolly; that's
natural, I'm sure. We're neither of us young,
brother."
Joel winced. Any allusion to his age always
made him testy. "Well, where's that boy, I
sh'd like to know," he repeated.
So sh'd I," responded his sister, "but I
ain't going to growl and grumble over it. Why
don't you take hold and do something to help
the time along? You might set the table for
once."
That's woman's work," said Joel disdain-
fully.
"S'posin' 'tis," said Miss Philena, "it's bet-
ter'n no work, in my opinion." With that she
disappeared in the buttery.







AMBER.


Somebody, whistling along the road, now
drew Joel's attention, and lie peered eagerly
through the gathering darkness to catch sight
of the figure advancing toward the house. A
boy presently turned in between the tall granite
posts where in olden time there had been a
gateway, and whistling away at the merriest
of tunes, leaped over the old porch, and threw
open the door, showing a ruddy face, and clear
blue eyes.
Halloo said Joel, hurrying forward from
the window, "where have you been this long
time, Rob ?"
"To the mill," said the boy. "Aunt Philena
sent me down there with the corn, but it's
shut up. -Mr. Griggs is sick."
Sick! Griggs sick?" cried Joel with inter-
est. "What's the matter? "
"I don't know. I asked 'em over at the
house, and they didn't any of 'em know. He
.had a chill this morning, they said, and he
coughs. That's all they told me, anyway. Is
supper ready?" turning his hungry young eyes
around for the usual preparations for that meal.
"No,'tisn't," said his uncle shortly; 1'and
won'tt be for you, in a good while. Where's
your bag 7.'' ?"
I left it at the mill," said Rob.
"I thought you said the mill was shut up,"
said Joel sharply.
"So it was. But I know where there's a
hole in the back shed, so I slipped the corn-bag
in there, instead of carrying it home. And to-
morrow I can run down and see if the mill is
going again. Likely enough somebody'll run
it, if Mr. Griggs can't."
You're likely enough with your opinions,"
snarled Joel; "for a boy of fourteen, I must say
you have about as many as I ever see. You'd
no right to leave that bag without leave, over
to Griggses."
The boy made no reply to this. He was
well accustomed to blame; a little more or less
made small difference, and he now busied him-
self in speculations of the liveliest sort as to the
probable time of the supper, the preparations
for which his practiced ear told him were well
under way, judging from various sounds ema-
nating from the buttery. At last Aunt Philena
appeared, bearing in one hand the wooden


.bread plate with its usual supply of carefully
trimmed slices, and in the other the remains of
a cold meat pie.
"You home, Rob?" she remarked, by way of
welcome, as she set these down on the table.
"There, pull this out, and lay the cloth."
He's left the bag o' corn over to Griggses,"
complained her brother. "Now what'll you
do, pray tell, for your meal?"
"Left the bag of corn over to Griggses," re-
peated Miss Philena. So the explanation had
to be gone over again. All this while Rob was
setting the table briskly, and trying hard not
to catch whiffs of the pie, it made him so very
impatient to have a taste of it.
Aunt Philena said nothing. It wasn't her
way when irritated, but at last seated herself
at the head of the rather scanty board.
"Come, Joel," she said, "supper's ready.
Do hurry, so that we can get through and the
dishes can be done up. Get into your place,
Rob."
"Rob isn't coming to supper," declared his
uncle, hurrying over to drop into his chair op-
posite his sister. "A boy who can be so long
over an errand like that, and then, to cap all,
can leave a bag o' corn that's intrusted to him,
out of his hand, ain't fit to set by to supper
with us. Go to bed, Rob!" He turned to
him L rpy.... "Here, light your candle, and get
along off with yo.


AMBER.

HE only place in which amber has been
'found in paying quantities is in the
Baltic Sea, and the vein extends from
Western Russia to Denmark, Norway
and Sweden. In former years the pro-
duction of amber depended principally upon
the storms occurring in the winter time, for
when the sea was convulsed, the amber lying
on the bottom was thrown up on the shore;
but human enterprise stimulated by the demand
for the article has changed all this, and for the
last twenty-five years various engineering appli-
ances have been used for getting out the amber
in the quickest and cheapest way.
The most profitable strata have been found






AMBER.

in the Courischer Haaf, which is located in the bringing up the sand and what amber there
vicinity of Memel, and there are twenty large may be in it. This is emptied on the deck of
dredging-boats constantly at work -day and the ship, and there it is washed, and the amber
picked out from
--- -- among the sand
and stone.
The little vil-
lage where this
7> industry is car-
Sried on is called
H Schwartzort. It
,is situated on a
-narrow strip of
,- _-- land that extends
; -- about ten miles
beyond the main-
-_--- land, and is per-
-- haps a mile wide
at its widest part.
f 'i At one time this
.-" s g f -- :- p strip of land was
S covered with a
forest, but the
:., _wood was sold off
S by a Prussian king
in tb'.,' eginning
of this century to
t i the Russians.
""i The land has be-
come barren sinde
stripped of its
1. sheltering forest,
erand now.it is
:,"nothing but a
W""I ii sandy waste; aid,
-were it not for
l, IN the amber indus-
,try, this beautiful
S peninsula would
'i~ be d desolate ,
About ninety
miles further
west is another
little villa ge,
-- called Palmnick-
A DIVI SUIT, en, and here the
amber is obtained
night for eight months in the year. There are in an entirely different manner. The most ap-
large strings of iron pails that are constantly proved diving apparatus is used, and the divers
dragging along the bottom of the sea, and go out in row-boats, each of which is fitted






KITTIE'S PLAID SHAWL.


with an air-pump. They go down into the sea,
where some of'them remain as long as four or
five hours. Each diver has a little bag around
his neck, and a peculiar hook, with which he
pulls up sand, and every piece of amber that
he finds is thrown into his bag. An encourage-
ment to the diver is that if he finds a piece of
amber he is entitled to a prize of ten, twenty-
five, or fifty cents, according to the size.
While the divers are below in the sea, en-
gaged-in hunting for the amber, the miners are
just as busy on land, for it seems that the same
stratum of the green sand runs, perhaps for
thirty miles or more, into the land. The open-
ing of the mine is perhaps a thousand feet from
the shore, and it is necessary to go down about
one hundred and fifty feet, which is some thirty
or forty feet below the level of the sea. To
keep the mine as dry as possible, there are sev-
eral pumps working day and night; and to pre-
vent the earth from falling in, the passages are
propped up by logs of wood. There are about
forty miles of passageway in these mines, and
there are about seven hundred men employed
for the various departments. As soon as a pas-
sageway is opened, a track is laid, and on this
track there runs a little truck, which holds per-
haps half a ton of sand. The miners simply
cut out the sand and fill the truck. It is then
brought to the surface, when the entire con-
tents are thrown into a long trough filled with
rushing water, which separates the sand from
the amber, which is caught by nets-of various
sizes. The amber is theni cleaned by-machinery,
and assorted according to its quality and purity.
The writer believes himself to be the first
American who ever went down into the amber
mine.
F. R. KALDENBERG, in the SWiss C ross.


KITTIE'S PLAID SHAWL.

ITTIE LEE, look how faded and
small your cloak is You have grown
too big for it." And Jessie Scott took
up the childish hand that hung beside her own,.
as they walked home from school. See how
far your dress sleeve comes down below your
sack. It is too short for you. Why don't you


ask your mamma to buy you a plaid shawl like
Susie's and mine ?"
O, Jessie! My mamma says she cannot
afford to get me one," replied Kitty with a lit-
tle sigh.
"We- girls will all go and ask her, won't
we? said Jessie, turning to a merry group of
children, on their way home together.
S"I am afraid she will feel bad to have you
ask her," ventured Kitty, "for I know she
would get me one if she could."
Oh! she won't feel bad, Kitty; perhaps
she does not know how much you want it.
Will she be home from school now?"
I guess so."


.
KITTIE AFTER THE PLAID SHAWL ARRIVED.


A merry group of little girls from five to ten
years old trooped into Mrs. Lee's cosey sitting-
room, and found her just laying aside her hat
and cloak.
"0, Mrs. Lee !" said Jessie, we have come
to ask you to buy Kittie a shawl like ours," and
she arranged in a row four or five attractive
little figures in new plaid shawls. We have
got them, and they are so nice and warm that
Iitty wants one, too."
"No one would like better to get one than





KITTIE'S PLAID SHAWL.


I would for Kitty, my dears, but just now I
cannot do it."
Oh! do get it, do, Mrs. Lee," ohimed in
a chorus of voices. "They don't cost so very
much, and I don't believe you know how much
little girls want things sometimes."
"Yes, my little girls, I know very well how
much Kitty wants and really needs it, but the
dear Lord has not given me the money to get
it this winter," answered Mrs. Lee in a sad
tone.
"Don't tease her any more, girls, please
don't," said Kitty, almost ready to cry because
she had not said No at once, when her friends
proposed asking her mamma.
The little party left the house, and after
waiting until they were far enough away to be
out of hearing Jessie said, "I do think it is
mean Kitty can't have anything she wants since
her papa died."
"No, girls, Mrs. Lee is not mean," said a
bright, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired little one. "My
papa says Mrs. Leo is very poor now, and I am
sure she is a lovely teacher, and Kitty loves her
mamma dearly. Everybody does not have all
the money they want."
Mr. Lee had been a professor in the academy
at the city of M- and with his wife and lit-
tle daughter was very happy in their pleasant
home. But overwork and fatigue one summer
laid him low with fever. And after a few
weeks he died. He was young, and looking
forward to a long life, like many others, death
overtook him, without making any provision
for his family. Poor Mrs. Lee was for a time
so prostrated with grief at her terrible loss, that
she could not make any effort to help herself.
A position as primary teacher was offered her,
and gladly accepted. Kitty was now six years
old, and as only little more than a year had
passed since her father's death, there were many
more ways for money than Mrs. Lee could meet.
It was bed-time and little Kitty came to her
mamma to say her evening prayer. C1 ).-;ing
her arms about her neck she asked, Mamma,
would it be wrong to ask God to give me a
plaid shawl? "
"Certainly it would not, my darling," and
she pressed a loving kiss upon the sweet face so
close to her own.


So the innocent child knelt beside her mam-
ma and in simple faith asked the dear Lord to
bless them, and added, "Please, God, all the
money and all the things in the world are yours
please send me a plaid shawl! Please do, dear
Jesus! I want it so much."
Kittie's head was laid on her pillow that
night with a trusting faith that her wants
would be supplied by that Hand who was so
well able to do it.
Next day, although Kittie watched for her
answer it did not come, so at evening time her
little prayer was repeated with the same faith
and trust. Several, days passed in this way.
Each night Kittie's petition was not forgotten:
"Please, dear Jesus, send me a plaid shawl."
About a week after, as. the child was ready
for bed, she looked into her mamma's face, say-
ing, "Mamma, God always hears our prayers,
doesn't he ?"
"IHe always hears, my darling, but He does
not always answer as we expect He will. Some-
times He thinks it is not best for us to have
what we ask Him for, and so He gives something
that He knows is better for us. We cannot
always know what is best for us. But He
knows, and He always hears, and He has prom-
ised to answer our prayers in his own way."
"Well, mamma, I am going to keep on ask-
ing Him. Maybe He is too busy to listen, but
a bright angel might run and tell Him to hear,
for a little girl is praying. I am sure He will
answer me, mamma."
So the childish voice pleaded: Dear Jesus,
love mamma and me! Make me a good girl,
and bring me a plaid shawl so that I can say
Jesus gave it to me."
Next morning before they started for school
a gentleman called at the door, and saying with
a cheery voice, "Good-morning, Mrs. Lee,"
handed her a package. "I was buying a shawl
for my little daughter, and thinking Kittie
might like one, I bought one for her, too."
Mrs. Lee, with tears in her eyes, told him the
story of the childish faith and prayer, adding,
"'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my children, ye have done it unto
me.' May God bless you for it."
He-went away, leaving such joy and thanks-
giving and praise to the dear Jesus who had






JAPANESE COURTESY.-"FINISH IT."


heard and answered prayer, as they could hardly
find words in their full hearts to express.
"But," said Kittie, "Mr. Smith is not God."
"No, darling, but God put the thought of you
into his heart, and through him the dear Lord
has answered your prayer for the plaid shawl."
What a happy Thanksgiving was theirs !
MARY WOODRUFF.

A CONTEMPORARY gives the following
in regard to Japanese courtesy : "When
a couple of Japanese acquaintances encounter
each other in the street--no matter whether
high or low, male or female, old or young -
they stand with their feet somewhat apart and
bow repeatedly while rubbing their bended
knees with their hands, drawing in their breath
as they rise, and closing their lips with a sud-
den gasp as they flop down again. The con-
versation opens with a sigh and a dry cough:
' Schibaraku o me ni kakarimasen,' i. e., It is
a long time since I hung upon your eyes. I
have not seen you this long while.' -Reply:
Deep sigh with a short cough, i. e., Yes, alas !
alas! I have long been deprived of the pleasure
of gazing on your features.' Q.: How is it
with your respected husband and the charming
baby?" R.: Sigh and cough as before, i. e.,
'Best thanks for your kind inquiry; they are
both quite well.' -' Since I last had the pleasure
of hanging on your eyes, you have grown much
older and also rather stouter.' R.: Sigh and
cough, i. e., Many thanks for the compliment,.
but I am afraid you flatter me.' And so on,
ad libitum, until they part again after series of
bows. If the salutation takes place in the
house, where the cleanliness of the mats affords
fuller play to the, instincts of politeness, they
kneel down, place their elbows and hands, palms
downwards, on the floor, and touch the mat
with their forehead. They remain in this atti-
tude, gently murmuring complimentary phrases,
interrupted with sighs, until one of them, feel-
ing the blood rise to his brain, cautiously lifts
his head to peep whether his vis-i-vis has
changed his position; if this is the. case they
both slowly work their way upwards; but if
the other still keeps his head on the ground, the
first one quickly ducks down again so as not to
be outdone in politeness by his partner."


"FINISH IT."

T HEN Samuel F. B. Morse, afterwards
S famous as the inventor of the electric
telegraph, was a young painter studying in
London, he made a drawing from a small cast
of the Farnese Hercules, intending to offer it
to Benjamin West as an example of his work.
Being very anxious for the favorable opinion
of the master, he spent a fortnight upon the
drawing, and thought he had made it perfect.
When Mr. West saw the drawing he exam-
ined it critically, commended it in this and that
particular, then handed it back, saying: "Very
well, sir, very well; go on and finish -it."
But it is finished," said the young artist.
"0 no!" said Mr. West; "look here, and
here, and here," and he put his finger upon
various unfinished places.
Mr. Morse saw the defects, now that they
were pointed out to him, and devoted another
week to remedying them. Then he carried the
drawing again to the master. Mr. West was
evidently much pleased, and lavished praises
upon the work; but at the end he handed it
back, and said, as before: Very well, indeed,
sir; go on, and finish it."
"Is it not finished?" asked Mr. Morse, by
this time all but discouraged.
"Not yet; you have not marked that muscle,
nor the articulations of the finger-joints."
The student once more took the drawing
home, and spent several days in retouching it.
He would have it done this time.
But the critic was not yet satisfied. ,The
work was good, "very good indeed; remark-
ably clever;" but it needed to be "finished."
I cannot finish it," said Mr. Morse, in
despair.
Well," answered Mr. West, "I have tried
you long enough. You have learned more by
this drawing than you would have accomplished
in double the time by a dozen half-finished
drawings. It is not numerous drawings, but
the character of one, that makes a thorough
draughtsman. -Finish one picture, sir, and you
are a painter."
It was a good lesson. One principal part of
a teacher's business is too keep his pupil from
being too easily satisfied.- Exchange.







STUDIES IN FRENCH LIFE.


STUDIES IN FRENCH LIFE.


-
" S~R~NS S'Y~ouJ WK(Ct( \NAY:: Src,


/PEwBacROOT we\NC.g
































































1i
-ry,`

B, -i


*: c -


BESSIE IS ALL IRADY.


"
---"
''
*s~






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.

BY PANSY.

TAKxE 1EED, BRETIIIREN, LEST THERE BE IN ANY OF YOU
AN EVIL HEART OF UNBELIEF IN DEPARTING FROM THE
LIVIN( (;0l).
NOT I:Y mm [GIr, NOR IBY POWER, IUT BY MIY SPIRIT- SAITH
TIE LO[IL) oF II IOSTS.
GREAT > EN ARE NOT ALWAYS WISE.
THY PEOPLE SHALL BE MIY PEOPLE, AND THY GOD MY
GOD.

TI-IE winter set in very gloomily. Ralph,
leaning over the kitchen table, listening
to his mother while she talked with Mr. Brew-
ster, thought there had never seemed a darker,
and could not help thinking privately that his
mother was a little, just a little, foolish. Oh !
of course he did not put it in those words, even
to himself, but that was what the thought
meant, all the same.
This was the way matters stood. Mr. Selmser
was out of work, and had been for some time
away from home looking for a chance to earn
his living; that very morning had come a letter
from him saying he had only succeeded in get-
ting enough to do to earn his board, and he saw
no prospect in the future, but would hold on a
few days longer. Now here sat Mr. Brewster,
who had come to offer Ralph's father a place.
" I'd be very glad to have him," said the gentle-
man. I know him to be a good, steady man,
one to be relied upon. It isn't much of a place
now, but there might be a better opening before
long. We can't tell what may happen."
Mrs. Selmser sewed on, and Ralph wondered
what in the world she could mean, and was
almost tempted to answer for her. At last she
spoke:-
It isn't the wages, Mr. Brewster, nor the low-
down place, as you may say. My husband is
not one to wait for good places. He would saw
wood for a living, if there wasn't anything else
to do, and be thankful to get it. But I don't
think he could take this job, even if it came to
starving."
Ralph looked amazed, not to say disgusted,
and Mr. Brewster, mildly astonished, waited for
an explanation.
You see it is a matter of principle," ex-
plained Mrs. Selmser. Reuben doesn't believe


in the business; of course he oughtn't to, help
it along."
A patient smile covered Mr. Brewster's face.
"Oh! is that the trouble ?" he said, in a kindly
tone. Well, my dear madam, you can set
your heart at rest; all in the world we shall
have for him to do is to cart empty barrels
from the manufactory to the warehouse. There
certainly cannot be any moral question about
that."
Mrs. Selmser's needle flew very fast. The
question is, what goes into the barrels ?" she
said at last, speaking gently but very firmly.
Mr. Brewster laughed. "I can't imagine
what my porter would have to do with such a
question," he said, still speaking with a show
of kindness. He is paid for carting barrels,.
and as I look at it, it is none of his business in
any way what is done with them after they
leave his hands."
Mrs. Selmser stayed her needle and looked
steadily at her caller.
"It was kind in you to think of us, Mr.
Brewster, and I thank you. But I know my
husband well enough to be sure that he will
have nothing to do with barrels that are going
to have beer put into them; so there wouldn't
be any use in sending for him."
"Very well, madam," said Mr. Brewster,
rising as he spoke. There were two red spots
on his cheeks by this time. "I suppose there
is no use in my telling you that I think him a
very foolish man indeed, and that he will be
likely to starve his family before this hard win-
ter is over, if he tries to live by such a squeam-
ish conscience as that. But my duty is done,
so I will bid you good-evening."
"Mother," said Ralph, almost before the
door closed after him, I don't see how you
dared to say that to Mr. Brewster. He is a
very great man -the greatest man in this
town. The boys said to-day that he was the
richest man in the country."
"I have nothing to do with that," said Mrs.
Selmser. "I had to answer him, and there
was nothing else to say, as I look at things."
But don't you think you are a little bit a
little bit "- said Ralph, hesitating for a word,
and leaving a blank at last. "You know father
wouldn't have to touch beer, and, as Mr.






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


Brewster said, what is it to him what goes into
the barrels ? "
What difference does it make with you, my
son, if a boy in school borrows your knife to
cut a hole in his desk, and you know what he
is going to do, yet you open your knife and
hand it to him ?"
That's different," said Ralph.
Yes, it is," said his mother, "because the
mischief would only be done to a piece of
wood, while beer, now and she, too, left her
sentence blank.
Come," she said, after a few minutes of
silence, "read the verses and we will have
prayers, without waiting for Mary Jane. She
said she would be late to-night. They are get-
ting ready for a Christmas dinner, you know."
It is more than we are doing," said Ralph,
with a sigh. "I don't see how we are to have
any kind of dinners if father can't get work.
Shall I read some marked verses, mother? "
"Yes, do," said Mrs. Selmser. Let us have
some of- mother's good words to-night to help
us, and don't you worry about the dinners,
Ralph. Don't you remember one of the verses
-' Verily, thou shalt be fed' ?"
One would think Mr. Brewster ought to
know right from wrong," said Ralph, with an-
other sigh. He is a great man."
Then he turned, without much thought about
it, to the very first marked verse on which his
eye alighted, Great men are not always wise."
"Why," said Ralph in astonishment, isn't
that strange ? Did you know that was in the
Bible, mother? Why do you suppose Grandma
marked that ?"
Maybe she had something to do with great
men herself, some time," said Mrs. Selmser,
with a pleasant smile. She was very glad
Ralph had found that verse. A lesson that he
needed very much to learn was that it took
more than money to make greatness.
A few minutes more and the short, earnest
prayer had been offered, the door locked, the
fire covered for the night, and the kitchen
deserted. Meantime, Mary Jane had sent
word by a neighbor that there were so many
"last things to do, in order to be ready for
the next day, she had decided to stay all night
and help them through.


Ralph could not help another sigh as he
turned to give a last look at the room. It was
in perfect order, not looking at all, the boy
thought, as a room should look on Christmas Eve.
One solitary stocking hung by the chimney
corner. All the little Selmsers had agreed
that Baby, as the three-year-old Ned was
called, was the only one who could afford to
hang up his stocking this year. Ned is too
young to understand things," the mother said,
" but the rest of you do, and will be cheerful
and good, I know. Next year maybe we can
have the chimney corner full of stockings."
So Ned's hung alone. It had been a perplexing
thing to fill that stocking, and had really taken
hours of contriving.' Every member of the
family had made some queer thing to put in it.
When they were all stuffed in, and it was found
to be quite filled, I think every one felt a sense
of relief. But the stocking did look lonely to
Ralph as he gave it a last look; and though he
said not a word, he thought in his heart that he
would like very well to hang his beside it, for
company. He told himself, as he climbed up-
stairs, that he didn't see any sign of ever being
able to hang up his stocking again, or to have
any nice Christmases. -They were growing
poorer and poorer; if father did not- get work
soon, he did not see what would become of
them.
And so night settled down on the little home,
and the, embers of the dying fire lighted the
room. But the stocking by the chimney corner
was not so lonely, after they were all gone, as
Ralph imagined. Certain queer little visitors
came out of their houses and eyed it curiously,
and sighed because it was beyond their reach.
They would have liked so much to gnaw it!
And they too grumbled over this Christmas
Eve, and said "they might as well live in a
barn ; there was nothing to be had in this house
worth nibbling for !" But they had no marked
verses on which to stay their courage.
The sunshine of the next morning had not
yet conquered the frost on the window-pane,
when Ralph, who was making a fire for his
mother, heard a brisk voice call his name.
"Ralph, my boy, has your father come home? "
"No, sir," said Ralph, dropping his armful
of wood, and turning to open the door for Mr.






THE HARD TEXT.


Powell, who was coming up the walk. "He is
in Barton."
"Has he found work yet ?"
"No, sir. Mother had a letter last night,
saying he did not know of anything yet."
"Glad of it," said Mr. Powell, and as this
did not sound like a very friendly thing to say,
Ralph did not know how to answer it, so was
quiet, and by this time Mrs. Selmser had heard
the voices and come to the door.
"Good-morning! said Mr. Powell, talking
fast. Can you give me just the address to
reach your husband quickly, by telegram?
Ralph tells me he has not found employment,
and I want to get hold of him as quickly as
possible. My foreman has given me the slip,
without a day's warning. I suppose he thinks
I cannot fill his place, and so will have to
.bid higher, but I have been wishing for a good
chance to get your husband in the place.
I have had my eye on him for a year;but didn't
see any chance of an opening, so long as the
other behaved himself, but now that he hasn't,
it is all right. I will telegraph your husband
to come home by the noon train, so you better
have a Christmas .dinner all ready for him.
Just send around to our supply store, madam,
for anything you want. I guess you will find
everything there, and your husband will prob-
ably deal with me, after this. I supply all my
people at cost. Brewster told me last night you
had refused a place for your husband in his
brewery. Glad of it. That's the grit I like.
He won't lose anything, I guess. I pay my
foreman'a good salary, and it is a permanent
place if a true man wants it."
Mr. Powell talked fast, and made a short
stay. He was the largest business man in town,
and was nl .iy-i in a hurry, but it seemed to
Ralph he would never go. The boy wanted to
throw up his hat to the ceiling and shout, and
stand on one foot and, whirl on the other, and
dance what he called a "jig," and none of these
things seemed exactly proper to do in Mr.
Powell's presence.
"0 mother, mother!" he said, as soon as he
could get breath again, after all these things
were finally accomplished, "some great men
are wise, anyhow, and Mr. Powell is a great
deal greater than Mr. Brewster ever thought of


being. Why, mother, he pays his foreman as
much as a thousand dollars a year O, mother I
what if you had told Mr. Brewster father would
come and move his old beer bottles! Wouldn't
that have been just awful?"


THE HARD TEXT.

SI came not to send peace, but a sword." -
Matt. x. 34.

N Luke ii. 14, the angels sing of Jesus when
He was born On earth peace." At first
sight these two verses seem to contradict each
other. They do not. The blessed Book never
does that. Remember, when one thing in one
part of the Bible seems to conflict with another
part or say something which seems to be wrong,
you are to conclude that a little better under-
standing will set it all to rights in your mind.
I came not to send peace to a sinner if'he
stay in his sins. "There is no peace to the
wicked." There ought not to be. But as soon
as a sinner asks Jesus for forgiveness, he gets
peace. That's the way peace comes on earth;
it is the peace of God in the heart; peace and
joy in believing.
Now when one gets this peace, it seems so
good that he wants some other one to get it, too.
So he speaks to this other one and urges him to
confess his sins and seek Jesus; and in most
cases this other one gets angry and talks against
Jesus or Christians. That often happens in a
family % ilr-'e one is a true Christian and the
others are not. You see how trouble will come.
There will be war in that family. It may not
be 'a war of swords, but it will be a war of
words. Jesus does not want the war, and there
wouldn't be any if the sinner would give up.
But he does not usually surrender till after a
hard battle with Jesus. So Jesus is said to
send a sword or war. It simply means I am
come to fight against the wrong, and people
who are on the wrong side and stay there, will
fight against me and my soldiers."
My dear, dear children, I wish you may
never be found with a sword in your hand or
mouth or heart fighting against.the Lord. Let
Him put His sweet peace into your heart, and
when you draw the sword, draw it against sin.






BABY'S CORNER.


A CHRISTMAS DINNER.

NE, two, three, four kitties! Muff is
the old mother cat. She is very big
and has a long tail. She has three
little kittens. One is white as snow;
her eyes are blue, her paws are soft as
silk, her name is Snowball.
Dash is black as a coal, with little streaks
of white. His fur is very shiny.
Dot is black and white both. Her face is
white and her paws are white. Her back is
black.
Snowball is a good little puss. She does
not cry or fret. 'She does not pout when her
mother tells her she cannot go out of doors
any more that
night. She runs
off to her little
bed in the basket
and curls herself
up like a ball and
soon she is sound
asleep. She lets
Baby pull her ears
and -tail. She
does not bite or
scratch Baby.
Dot is a funny
kittie. She runs
round and round
after her tail. ....
She never got it
yet. She catches
flies and she runs
after Grandma's ball. She jumps on the back
of Grandpa's chair and tickles his ear. She
scampers and jumps and rolls over and plays
as hard as she can all day long.
Dash is sometimes a naughty kittie. He
jumps into the flower bed and breaks down the
roses. He scratches the baby. He steals
meat from the cook. When his mother says :


"Dash, go to bed this minute! he runs and
hides behind the door.
When Christmas day came, Cook 'gave
Mother Muff and her kittens a nice dinner,
They had turkey bones and chicken bones with
good meat on them. They had some nice bits
of mince pie, and a big piece of plum pudding,
and some oysters. Oh! such a dinner. All'
the kitties opened their eyes wide when they
saw it.
"Now, children," said Mother Muff, you
must have good manners. You must not begin
to eat until I tell you to. You must not eat
too fast. You must not make a noise with
your lips."
Snowball and Dot waited, and were good


(,/'.
'-21


UFF AND HER CHILDREN.


kitties, but naughty Dash jumped right into
the plate of dinner.
Then Mother Muff said: "Dash, you are a
very bad cat! Get out of that plate quick!
You must be punished You must go out be-
hind the woodshedand stay while your sisters
eat their dinners."
So Snowball and Dot and their mother ate






THE ANGELS' SONG.


their dinners, but poor Dash hung his tail
between his legs and went off crying.
By and by Dash put his head in at the door,
and said : Mew His mother said: If you
can be good now, you may come and eat your
dinner."
So Dash came and ate his dinner. He was
a good little cat all the rest of that day.
MRs. C. M. LIVINGSTON.


THE ANGELS' SONG.

(A ( '.'; ..i.. Carol.)

G LORY to God!" the angels sang,
That starry night so long ago;
'Mong Bethlehem's hills the echoes rang,
And e'er shall ring God wills it so.

' Glory to God! may still be sung,
May still be echoed in the heart,
Wherever Christ's true glory reigns,
Where'er love is a welcome part.

With every loving word or thought,
With every deed of kindness done,
New strains are added to the hymn,
And "Glory to God! again is sung.

With each submission to God's will,
Whose will is ever best and right,
With each up-yielding of our hearts,
We glorify him in His sight.

'Twas "peace on earth" the angels brought,
That stari'y night so long ago;
The lovely lesson which they taught
Men e'er shall teach --God wills it so!

-'or peace on earth may still be spread :
'Twas Christ's most precious gift to men,
And peace must reign from Christmas first
Until He come again.

With always peace, and never strife,
Along our sometimes weary way,
Each life would be a C(I,,itii; life,
Each day a Christmas day.


"Good-will toward men.!" the angels sang,
That starry night so long ago;
The message which they brought, so sweet,
Shall e'er be spread God wills it so.


" Good-will toward men! o'er all the earth
Shall still be our sweet Christmas song, -
The strains, re-echoed in our hearts,
Be sung the whole year long.


" Good-will! good-will! they sweetly chime:
Toward men the chorus sweet;
Their tones, if followed on with care,
Will lead to Jesus' feet.

So this, our Christmas carol song,
So old, yet ever new,
First sung by angel choruses, -
Now sung by living true, -


We take, to lead us on through life,
In discord, melody, and rest,
Until we join the angel-choir,
Where we may sing the best.


" Glory to God !" which angels sang,
That starry night so long ago,
'With Peace on earth, good-will toward
men! "
Shall e'er be sung God wills it so!

The three-thought song the shepherds heard
We hear from Christ, in heaven above,
And o'er the earth we'll send the word
Of peace and joy and love.


The glorious Star the Wise Men saw,
That led from East to Bethlehem,
Shall lead us to Messiah's feet,
With all the brightness it gave them.


The gifts they brought the Christ new-born
Were gold and frankincense and myrrh:
We offer loving hearts, and true,
From every Christmas worshiper.
PARANETE.






LAURA'S CHRISTMAS CARD. j


LAURA'S CHRISTMAS CARD.

-SHE was skipping
through the streets of
the great city; what
with bobbing her head
behind her every second
S to see some strange
'siht, it was rather hard
wwork to get on with her ;
:. perhaps instead of say-
ing she was skipping, it
might be more proper
LAURA THINKING IT OVER.e w
to say she was being
.dragged along at a very unwilling rate of speed.
The lady who had hold of her warm chubby
hand was the most patient of aunties, but she
did want to get home that night; and she did
wish that for once Laura's eyes were not so
bright and watchful, or else that there were
not so many strange sights.
Suddenly the small feet came to a full stop,
-and no amount of pulling seemed to have any
effect on them.
'"Now really, my dear," began the auntie in
what she meant to be a very determined tone,
and Laura interrupted her: --" Auntie Nell,
look at that great big box. It is most as big as
:a barrel; and it is fastened to the gate; how
funny" .
"That is a contribution box," said Auntie
Nell.
"As big as that? Why, they will never get
it full! I shouldn't think there was money
enough in the world to fill it."
"It is not intended for money, Laura; look
in front and see what it says." So Laura skipped
to the front of the box and read 'the lettering:
" Drop papers and cards intended for hospitals
in here."
"Hospitals! That is where they take sick
people. What do they want of papers and
,cards ?"
"For the sick people to read, little goosie;
:some of them are getting better, and don't know
what to do to make the time pass while they
are waiting to get well enough to go to work;
some, even of the quite sick, like to have little
bits read to them; and to look at bright-colored
cards rests and helps them."


It is nice," said Laura at last, after a
thoughtful pause. "I wish I had a paper to
drop in; if we were only home we could get a
large bundle of them; but home is so far
away."
"You can do up a bundle and send it by
mail."
"Could we? Why, so we could; but you
see, Auntie, I want to drop one in right away,
it would be such fun to see it go down the
hole. Oh! I know what I can do, Auntie Nell;
I can drop in my ( II.la ,u card."
Auntie Nell had moved forward a step, hold-
ing out her hand to the little girl as she did so,
but at this word she turned back. "Would
you want to do that, dear?" she asked, a
touch, of surprise in her voice. It had taken
half the afternoon to select the card which had
been bought for a special purpose. It was very
pretty, and had made a large hole in Laura's
Christmas purse.
"I don't believe I quite want to," said Laura,
choosing her words with care. The card is
for mamma, you know, and I won't have a real
pretty thing for her if I do; but it most seems
as if I ought to, because the poor sick man at
the hospital may not have p rvllir.. pretty at
all, and this has a lovely verse that might help
him. Do you think I ought to do it, Auntie?"
In Laura's mind it was always a "poor sick
man" to whom all hospital gifts were made,
because the only time she ever visited the hos-
pital she was taken to the men's ward to see a
poor fellow who used to work for her father.
"I think," said Auntie Nell, who believed
that little consciences ought sometimes to settle
questions for themselves, without any help, I
think you should do what you think is right.
But it must be decided very quickly, dear, else
we will lose our train."
Laura considered 'for just another minute;
she was a little girl to reach decisions herself
'without any help; but she put her hand into
the outside pocket of her aunt's bag where the
precious card was kept, and drew it forth.
"I don't see," she said with a puzzled look,
why I can't think that the small card wouldn't
do to give; it has a pretty verse on it, and it
isn't mamma's; but I can't make it seem right
to do it."






BABY'S CHRISTMAS.


Down dropped the card to the bottom of the
large box, and that is as much as Laura knows
about its history. But I know the rest of the
story, and I'll tell it to you. In the hospital
that Cl('ii -n day, when the cards were dis-
tributed, there was a "poor sick man," and to
him was given Laura's card. It was a very
pretty thing, and he looked at it with fast-dim-
ming eyes; it reminded him of his boyhood,
and of his father who used to paint just such
lovely cards, but who was gone now; every-
body was gone, the young man though-t, and he
was sick, and poor, and had no friends. It was
a long time before he looked at the lettering on
his card. At last he turned it so he could read
the words: His name shall be called Wonder-
ful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlast-


ing Father." It seems a strange thing to say,
but that poor young man who. thought he had
no friends, had forgotten all about this Ever-
lasting Father" until Laura's card reminded
him.
It seems a wonderful thing to say, but
those grand words stayed by him, kept repeat-
ing themselves to his heart, until they actually
led him back to that Father's love and care !
SDid I say I knew the rest of the story ? That
is a mistake. I know only a little piece of it.
Nobody can know the whole until we all get
home to that dear Father's house, and all the
people whom the young man has led there, and
all the people whom they in their turn have
led there, gather around Laura to talk about
the Christmas card. MYEA SPAFFORD.


BABY'S CHRISTMAS.






A THOUGHTFUL DAUGHTER.


A THOUGHTFUL DAUGHTER.

RS. HASTINGS laid the baby down
'l ,i' very carefully, even keeping back a
-.? sigh of relief, lest it might waken him
Again. It was the third time that
morning she had coaxed him to sleep.
Baby had a hard task on hand that of push-
ing four double teeth through. swollen gums.
They all insisted on coming at once, and made
his life miserable. The night had been a rest-
less one, and baby and mamma were all tired
out. A soft knock fell on the door. Mrs. Hast-
ings went on tiptoe and opened it. Bridget
stood there, her broad face looking troubled.
She motioned her mistress into the hall.
"I'm awful sorry to trouble you," she said,
"but it's growing late, and Mr. Fred has
brought company home to dinner, and they are
going on the train, so he says he must be ready
on the minute; and the table isn't set, and
there's nothing ready for dessert, and I'm that
worried that I had to come for help, though I
tried my best not to."
Mrs. Hastings gave the faithful girl a sympa-
thetic smile for her thoughtfulness, then said:
Where is Carrie, Bridget ? I thought she
was to set the table and see to the-dessert."
"Miss Caerie is out, ma'am. She said she
would get back in time, if she possibly could,
but it is growing late. I think I'd have man-
aged it if company hadn't come, but I'm afraid
they will miss their train, you see."
"I'll come, Bridget,'right away."
Mrs. Hastings .returned to tuck the covers
more carefully about Baby, laid back into place
the pillow she had arranged for taking a little
rest while he slept, then made all haste to the
dining-room. Sure enough, it was late. She
would have to be brisk indeed if her son's
friends did not miss their train. The dishes
went on rapidly.
Where is the cream pitcher, Bridget?" she
asked, making the journey to the kitchen for
that purpose. "I can't find it in the china
closet."
"Miss Carrie took it, ma'am, to put a calla
lily in last night. She said it was the only
thing in the house that was just the right shape,
and she would have it ready by dinner time.


I'll run up-stairs and get it, ma'am. She took
the lily away with her this morning."
"No," said Mrs. Hastings. "It will not do
to leave your oven without watching just now.
I'll go myself." So she toiled up-stairs for the
pitcher, washed and arranged it, then opened
the sugar bowl. It was empty. Keeping the
sugar bowls and salt cellars in order was part of
Carrie's work. To the store-room for sugar,
then to the kitchen for water with which to
cleanse the salt cellars, which were found to be
in confusion. Now she was ready for the bread
knife. It was not in its place. She spent some
precious minutes in looking for it, then applied
to Bridget.
ma'am! Miss Carrie had it in her room
cutting a bit of vine. She said it was the only
knife that was sharp enough, and she forgot to
bring it back."
Up-stairs once more for the bread knife, a
search for it under piles of paper and piles of
clean clothes not yet put away; then to the
kitchen to wash it, and Mrs. Hastings glanced
nervously at the clock. I shall not be able to
make anything for dessert at this hour," she
said. -' We shall have to depend on fruit.
What were you planning for, Bridget?"
"Why, Miss Carrie said she would make a
lemon custard, ma'am, and I thought she had
till I went tothe closet to look for it, and found
the lemons not cut."
Mrs. Hastings sighed. We must depend
on apples and raisins," she said. "Where are
the raisins Carrie got yesterday?"
She, did not get any, ma'am. They had
none of the right kind at Moore's, and she was
going_ to stop on her way back, at Jones', and
forgot it."
Then it is apples and nothing else. I won-
der what Carrie did not forget. There are no
clean napkins in the drawer, Bridget. What
does that mean ?"
Bridget really looked embarrassed. They
haven't been put away yet, ma'am. You'll
find them on the ironing shelves."
With a delicacythat Carrie ought to have
appreciated, she kept herself from saying, Miss
Carrie forgot to attend to them; and as you
told me, ma'am, not to do it, there was nothing
to be done but let them lie there in the dust."







THE BOY WHO HELPED.


All of this Mrs. Hastings knew without being
told. But 1 have only given you a hint of the
trials that met that tired mother.
Meantime Carrie, in a very becoming winter
hat, with the collar of her sealskin sack drawn
up about her ears, braving the December snow-
storm in a very business-like way, dodged into
stores and shops, and out again, in a flutter of
haste and excitement.
Just as the very last step needed for the
dinner was taken, the hall door opened with a
rush and the flushed cheeks and shining eyes
of the young girl appeared in the hall, as Mr
Hastings came from the other direction.
Such a time as I have had, papa! whispered
Carrie confidentially, as he drew off his over-
coat. I've been everywhere in search of
something for mamma's Christmas present. I
had an idea at the last minute something that
would make it so pretty and I started out in
the midst of this snowstorm to look for it. I
thought I would have to give it up, but at last
I found it in a little old store on Dey Street."
The dining-room door was opened suddenly.
"Mr. Hastings, it will be necessary for you
to come to dinner immediately," said his wife.
" Fred has company who are to go on the train,
and it is late. Don't wait for me. I had to
leave the baby and come down to do Carrie's
work, and he has wakened again and is crying."
Saying which, she ran up-stairs.
Carrie gave her mother a reproachful glance,
and her father a meaning look. As for the
father, he had not been in the.kitchen for the
last hour, and knew nothing about the mother's
unnecessary steps. So he said, Never mind,
daughter; mamma does not know what impor-
tant secrets took you away. She will know all
about it to-morrow." But she didn't.
Christmas morning came, and in the Hast-
ings house there was a very quiet family. Carrie
presided at the breakfast table, and was pale
and grave. What eating Mr. Hastings did
was disposed of rapidly, and he hurried back.
to his wife's room.
"Utterly worn out," the doctor had said
when he came down-stairs a little while before.
"Nervous prostration we must call it, for want
of a better name. Nervous wear-out it ought
to be called. She was on her feet all day yes-


terday, the girl told me, after being broken of
her rest all night. That was the last straw,
probably, and it broke her. 0 yes! we hope
she will rally, but I don't know how soon.
These sudden breaks are dangerous things."
MYRA SPAFFORD.


THE BOY WHO HELPED.

ERY busy times had there been at Mr.
Parker's all the week, sweeping, washing
windows, and what not. It was not quite
the usual time of year for that cleaning.
The truth is, Mrs. Parker had put it off
until late this year, on purpose, on account of
the wedding.
"Since we must clean house any way," she
said, "we may as well delay, and have the house
in all its freshness for Marie. A wedding
doesn't come every year. We can afford to
be turned-aside from our usual ways a little."
But they had been more than "a little"
turned aside. Having begun the business it
must be finished at just such a date. It was of
no use for the carpet men to send word that
they could not possibly come to-day or to-mor-
row, but would be sure to be on hand bright
and early Thursday. Bless their dear hearts !
Thursday was the day of the wedding. Did
any one suppose that a carpet in the house
could wait until that day before it went ddwn ?
This belated carpet was a very important one,
too; it was for the library, and had.been selected
new by the pretty bride herself to match the
wall paper and the lovely new table scarf.
Certainly that must be laid, whatever else was
left undone.
A half-frantic man rushed from one end of
the town to the other in search of a carpet
man or men, but none was to be found to come
at just the right time.
One would think there was to be a wed-
ding in every house," the mistress said in
despair, "everybody is so busy. Mr. Parker,
what are we to do?"
Then did Mr. Parker take off his coat and
declare there was no help for it; he must put
the carpet down himself. It was hard work.
He was used to managing law-suits and giving







THE BOY WHO HELPED.


advice and attending to other people's business
for them in many ways, but this did not help
him a bit when he came to stitching and match-
ing carpets. Some of the tacks went down in
the wrong place and had to come up again, and
did not want to. The tack hammer broke just
when it should have done its best, and hurt
Mr. Parker's finger. He tossed the hammer
down in disgust, said it was a worthless thing;
he would have a better one than that before he
drove another tack, or his name was not Parker.
In a very few minutes he came back in triumph;
he had found a tack-puller that was perfection.
Mrs. Parker, busy as she was, had to come from
the pantry to look at the way it worked.
"A child could use it," said Mr. Parker,
showing it off with great pleasure. "I believe


Roy could take up tacks with it as well as any
one. Where is he? Roy, see here," and five-
year-old -Roy came bounding in. "There,"
said Mr. Parker gleefully, "look at that,"
as the sturdy little hand under his father's
direction, lifted the tacks from the floor with
ease. I call that an invention worth making.
Anything that saves time and strength in this
busy world, I'm interested in. The Little
Giant' they call this creature, and he is well-
named. He does without effort what I have
bothered over for five minutes at a time. Just
watch how easily it is done."
Roy watched, too, while the line of crooked


tacks in front of the bay window was drawn
out swiftly and skillfully. Before the tacking
commenced again, Roy was off. He had left
a playmate when he was called, and as soon as
possible ran back to her. More than an hour
afterward the playmate had gone. Roy, left
alone, thought of the new tack-puller and how
nicely that tack came up that his father let him
pull. He, thought it must be pleasant work.
He would like to do more of it. He ran to
the library, but it was deserted. Mr. Parker
had finished his task and the new carpet was
ready for the wedding. It looked firm and
smooth. Though Mr. Parker was not a carpet-
layer by.profession, he was one of those who
could do well whatever he undertook. Roy,
as he stood and looked at the rows of tacks.
had a great thought come into his wise brain.
It occurred to him that he might do something
to help his busy papa.
"I am so relieved to think that carpet is
down," said Mrs. Parker to the bride-elect that
afternoon. "I was really afraid we should have
to close the library on the occasion, and that
would have been too bad after buying a carpet
just to please you. But your father has done
it beautifully; a professional could not have
made it look better. Have you been in to see
it, Marie ?"
No-; Marie had been so busy; but she would
go this minute. "Poor papa !" she said on the
way there, "it is too bad that he had to do
such work with all the rest he must attend to."
"Poor papa, indeed!" She might well say
it, only she was too much astonished and dis-
mayed to say a word. Both ladies seemed to
have lost their power of doing anything but
staring, first at the floor, then at, each other.
The pretty carpet that had been so firmly fast-
ened to the floor, lay in loose rolls over the
room; not a tack left in it!
"I did it all myself," saC.d Roy, bursting in
upon them. I did it every bit myself; I and
the Little Giant. Won't papa be pleased?"
"What will his father say?" was all the
troubled mother could find voice for; and, as
if to answer her, the father appeared in the
doorway at that moment, took in the situation
at a glance- the dismayed ladies, the loose
carpet, the rows of tacks along the floor, the


~u;acl~o3i~s;P~.r==4r-;;ri~:
:







CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.


radiant boy. lie thought of the hard night's
work before him to stretch that carpet again
and get it ready for the wedding next day.
Only a moment he stood watching the surprised,
grieved look which was gradually coming over
the face of the little boy. Then he stooped
and lifted him in his arms, kissed his flushed
cheeks once, twice, three times, and said,
"Papa's little man he thought he was helping
papa; it is worth all the work to have a boy
who tries to help."
"I've always admired papa," said the bride,
telling the story over again to the man who


CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

HRISTMAS-DAY though it was, a very
gloomy-faced little girl stood on the
bank of the river and watched the
scene on the ice. The girl's name was
Sara Mason. She lived in one of the
small houses on a back street, near the river.
There were father, mother, Sara and the baby
in the little house. It was so very little that it
seemed to Sara that they would never find a
place for all the things, though she knew that
they had but few things. It was only two


THE GAY GROUP ON THE ICE.


was to be her husband. "I have always
thought him one of the grandest men in the
world, but I don't believe he will ever be
grander in my estimation than he was when he
controlled himself and kissed Roy for undoing
his half-day of hard work." PANSY.


weeks since they had moved to this town from
a larger and pleasanter house; and being gloomy
and sad over many things which had lately
happened to them, Sara felt homesick and lone-
some.
"Some folks have all the nice things there







CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES


are in the world, and others must go without."
She was talking to herself as she looked at
the gay group on the ice, watching them with
such a sullen look on her face that, had they
been near enough to see it, they might almost
have been frightened. Just look at that
proud thing sitting there in her sleigh holding
a puppy. I should think such a great girl as
she is would be ashamed to go out riding with
a puppy in her arms. My, my! did I ever see
such a sleigh? It is made on purpose for the
ice. I do believe it is lined all over with plush.
I never saw anything so pretty in my life just
see how it.slips along; and my lady looks as
pretty as a queen. She never has trudged
through the snow to the grocery, I'll be bound.
Those are silly-looking boys drawing her; I
shouldn't like to have my brothers -if I had
any-rigged up like that. They make me
think of the boys who rode the ponies the day
when the circus went by; but I suppose that's
the way grand folks dress. That's what they
call skating suits, I guess. I wonder what my
lady would say to having baked potatoes and
bread and butter for a Christmas dinner, and
not another thing. I suppose she had turkey
and cranberry sauce and oyster pie, maybe, and
no end of things. It is just as I said: some
folks have all the good things in this world. I
don't see why I couldn't have some as well as
such a proud-looking girl as that; she has fur
all over her and a plume on her new hat as long
as rmy arm. How would she like to wear an old
hat, I wonder, and a sacque too short and too
narrow and too everything? I s'pose she lives'
in one of those grand houses over there, and I
s'pose she had candies and nuts in her stockings,
and all sorts of beautiful presents, and I had
just an apple. She's coming this way, I do be-
lieve; she's going to stop her sleigh and look
at me! -She needn't. I most believe I'll make
a face at her, if she does. I'm as good as she
is, any day, if I can't prink up in fine clothes
and ride out in a grand plush sleigh, painted
blue-and-gold color."
"Merry Christmas!" said a clear, pleasant
voice from the sleigh as it drew close to the
shore. "Will you have a Christmas package?
I am giving one to each of my friends. I guess
you are my friend, aren't you ?"


"I don't know," said Sara. She thought
afterwards what a rude answer it was to make;
but just then it seemed to be the only one she
could think of.
Oh I guess you are; you must be about my'
age. All the girls who live here are my friends.
Do you live near this place ?"
I live on Day Street," said Sara briefly and
coldly.
"Oh! do you? I wondered who lived in
that little red house next to the corner, and I
hoped we'd be good friends. I'm all alone at
our house; the only girl, you know; and I do
get very lonely sometimes. You will have one
of my-C'ri-in i-, packages, won't you? Robbie,
hand her this, please."
It was a large white stocking, made of the
material called milinet. Through its openings
Sara could see the gleam of candies in all sorts
of curious shapes. The sweet voice from the
sleigh went on: -
"This is one of my ways of having a good
time on Christmas. The boys takd me out rid-
ing, and stop along shore for me to greet my
friends. Have you brothers and sisters to play
with ?"
S"There's only the baby and me," said Sara,
speaking a little" more politely, and accepting
the white stocking with a Thank you!" won-
dering at the same time whether she ought to
take it, and what else she ought to say.
"Oh! have you a baby at your house? I
wonder if you won't bring it to see me some-
time. I do love a baby so much. I have only
this dog. Will you bring your baby to call on
me?"
"Perhaps your mother wouldn't want me to,"
said Sara, determined to take no advantage of
all these kindnesses, and be as dignified as she
could.
A sad look flitted over the face of the child
in the sleigh, but her voice was still sweet:
"My mother has gone to Heaven, and my
father, too; but I live with my auntie, and I
know she will be glad to see the-baby. She
always welcomes my friends."
"Poor little girl without father or mother or
baby; nothing but a dog!" This was the
thought in Sara's heart, but she did not put it
into words.






GRANDMiA'S MISTAKE.


It now occurred to her that it would be polite
to ask the little girl to come and see her, though
she didn't believe she would want to come to
such a little house as theirs. "If she doesn't,"
said Sara, hardening her heart again, "I'll not
go near her."
"You might come to our house and see the
baby sometime; it is only a little walk from
where you live, if you live in that big house
over there." She pointed to one of the grand
river fronts where she strongly suspected the
whole party belonged. The little girl shook
her head. I live there," she said, "but it is
too long a walk for me. I might ride there
sometimes, if the coachman can turn down that
street; I can't walk."
Why not?" Sara's voice was hard, and she
could hardly keep her lip from curling. What
a little goosie, to talk of riding a dozen steps.
"I never walked a step in my life. Some-
thing's the matter with my back, and my feet
have to be lazy all the time; they are good-for-
nothing things; just for ornament."
Her face was bright again, and she finished
her sentence with a queer little laugh. Sara
could not laugh. Tears came into her eyes
and rolled down her face. It seemed to her
she had never heard of anything sohard in her
life; but all she said was, 0 dear!"
The nodding plume leaned quite over the
side of the sleigh. "You are sorry for me,
aren't you ?" said the gentle voice. "Thank
you; but I don't mind it so very much. I have
a great many things to be glad over."
"To think that I should have envied her,"
said Sara, speeding home after she had promised
to ask her mother to let the baby come-on the
first bright day and make a call on her new
friend to think that I should have envied
her, and she has no mother or father or baby
brother; and she never walked a step in her
life! 0 dear me!"
The strong little feet carried their owner
swiftly through the snow up the path to the
little house; and Mrs. Mason received such a
hugging and kissing as she had not had for
many a day.
"Seems to me you have come home in a
happier mood than you went out," she said
when she had a chance to speak again.


Mother, I'll never be unhappy and grumbly
again, never, mother. Just think of a little
girl who has not any folks, only aunts and
cousins and such things, and who has never
walked a step in her life! 0 dear! O dear!
Where's the baby? Seems as if I wanted to
smother him with kisses. Catch me grumbling
again!"
But I'm afraid she will the very next time
things don't exactly suit her. People forget,
you know. PANsY.

GRANDMA'S MISTAKE.

POOR Grandma! I do hate to tell her,
And yet it does seem very queer;
She's lived so much longer than I have,
And I why, I've known it a year!
Even Alice begins to look doubtful,
And she is so babyish, too,
And mamma slyly laughs at the nonsense,
But Grandma believes it is true.

I did it all up in brown paper,
And laid it just there by her plate;
She put on her glasses so slowly,
I thought that I never could wait.
But when she had opened the bundle,
My patience!' she said, how complete E
A dear little box for my knitting -
Now isn't old Santa Claus sweet?

"'To think that the funny old fellow
Should notice I needed just this;
If he should come in here this morning,
I think I should give him a kiss!'
She never once looked at me, never;
Of course I had nothing to say,
But I was so mortified, truly,
I just had to run right away.

"Poor Grandma! I do hate to tell her!
But some day, of course, she'll find out;
And then she will laugh to remember
What once she was puzzled about.
But as for that beautiful work-box,
She laid with such care on the shelf,
How can she think Santa Claus brought it?
I made the thing for her myself."
Selected.


















-f '-


-.: .c--AYr-;




'~~. -,- -
,j -r .


.1i-



iti

-'-A--- -i-;-- .


4u


~1 It4 *1
,1 :';-2-
-_ _-_ _. :: / _- :. : -_ _. -_ .- .:.I- :
> -." : -- :-.i:' : -7:-, _:'-.


-A-
-. ,, .: -:{ :_%-: .
- -


67 i- 0096 zoz
THE- P W ofa
Ft1.~; .: 7 P ____

[T-l-E I EO T ERi-----F. -RA-A-- ;--_ ,., (._ t-__ .. .. ..- .. -- -
TIIE I'IGEOIV T0 VE OFi CRANI)YIAL. ( ltrtctr f Etg $l Of]agq a ille,)






ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.


ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

BY MARGARET SIDNEY.

CHAPTER II.

OB went slowly up-stairs, opened the
door, and went in. He set the candle
Down on the deal table that served him
for bureau, wash-stand,-and all toilet
arrangements, threw off his clothes, blew out
the flickering light, and got into bed.
I ought to know how it seems to go hungry
to bed," he observed philosophically to himself
as he huddled down under the comforters, "but
somehow to-night it hurts worse than ever."
The old stairs creaked. At first Rob paid
no attention to the noise. One rat more or less
made but little difference; and despite the
pain and hollowness in his lower regions, the
boy was beginning to feel sleepy. Presently
the latch was lifted, and as he raised his aston-
ished head, he saw Aunt Philena's cap-frill
rounding the door. She held a tray in one
hand. Involuntarily Rob's nose wrinkled, while
his hungry mouth twitched.
Aunt Philena came in deliberately, put her
candle down by the side of Rob's extinguished
one, then brought the tray over to the bedside.
Goodness me !" she could not help shiver-
ing, pulling up her shawl a bit closer around
her thin neck with her free hand "it's going
to be a cold night. There! hold your knees
up. I'll set the tray on 'em."
Rob's eyes glistened. Yes, there was a
generous wedge of the meat pie, and a bowl of
milk!
Oh! now that's awful good of you," he
cried, picking up the pie, and without the pre-
liminary of a knife or fork, he set his firm,
white teeth into its midst.
Aunt Philena watched him grimly. Pres-
ently the plate was clean of all crumbs, and
every drop of milk out of the bowl. Then
Rob huddled down again under the bed clothes,
only leaving out two astonished blue eyes to
stare at her.
"I'll have to talk quick," said Aunt Philena,
shivering again in spite of herself, "for it's as
cold up here as some folks' hearts. Got enough


clothes, Rob?". She passed her bony fingers
over the patched quilt.
"Yes, indeed," said the boy, wriggling in a
comforted way. Oh! that pie was so good,"
and he smacked his lips. "I'm warm enough
when I'm in, Aunt." Then he waited to hear
what she had to say.
He gets more unreasonable every day,"
said Aunt Philena abruptly, and pointing to-
ward the floor to indicate the only other occu-
pant of the homestead below stairs. "If things
go on in this way, I don't know where we'll
end, Rob."
Rob, not understanding quite what to reply
to this, wisely said nothing.
"I'm sick and tired of it," declared Aunt
Philena at last, astonished at herself for fur-
nishing such a flow of confidence, "and some-
thing has got to be done. But I'm beat if I
know what."
Still Rob said not a word.
-"You're old enough now to understand some
things, Rob. When you were fourteen I made
up my mind I'd tell you. Your mother, if she'd
lived, would have had her rights here the same
as he and I have; now she's dead, they're
yours."
The boy sat straight up in bed now, the
clothes tossed back from his young shoulders
that had lost all fear of the cold, the light flash-
ing from his bright blue eyes, and every nerve
strained to catch the astonishing news.
Your uncle don't mean to cheat you, 'tisn't
that," she went on with a tightening of the
thin lips, as if a pain had suddenly seized her
at some unwelcome thought but it is cheat-
ing you, all the same, out of an education, that
will stand you in stead by and by, better than
this land and homestead that will all be yours,
of course."
O, Aunt! cried Rob, springing forward to
lay his brown hand on her long fingers, "if
Uncle Joel will only let me go to school, he
may have all the rest of my share in the prop-
erty. I don't want it."
Aunt Philena smiled grimly, the thin lips re-
laxing against their will. "You'll want every
bit of the property when it comes time for you
to have it," she said. "You won't find it hard
to use it, dwindled down as it has, Rob. I can






BEHOLD THE BABE.


remember this place actually rolling in plenty,
the house full of people, and everybody happy."
.She set her lips together hard now, and fell
into a train of reverie, from which the boy,
awakened to eager aspirations, found it difficult
to rouse her.
One thing is settled," at last she said,
slowly, "you are to go to school." The boy
gave an exclamation of delight. How it can
be managed, I don't yet see. But you and I
will keep our own counsel, and go right on just
the same. And I don't doubt the plan will come
to me. Any way, you go to school. There,
lie down now, Rob, and go to sleep." She
rose, gathered up the dish and bowl that had
been shaken off the tray, and, picking up her
candle, went out, leaving the boy still sitting
erect in the bed, with starry eyes peering into
a future suddenly ablaze with hope.
Rob went down stairs early the next morning,
like a new boy. Mechanically, he went through
the chores that, under his uncle's arrangement,
grew a little heavier each day. But this winter
morning they did not press. Rob had other
thoughts than complaining ones as he made
the kitchen fire, fed the few animals that
belonged to the dwindled farm, and accom-
plished the other things that were necessary to
set the household in running order for the day.
And when the big bell rang for breakfast, he
was surprised for once to find the meal had
come too soon for him, and he went in and
took his place, fairly aglow with light and
happiness.
You are late," growled Uncle Joel, by way
of morning greeting. And then he stopped at
sight of the boy's face. "IHumph! it does you
good once in a while to go to bed without your
supper, doesn't it?" he added with a grim
smile. "You'll try it maybe a little oftener in.
the future."
Rob kept his eyes fastened on his plate, and
the rapidly disappearing mush thereon. Some-
how he felt guilty of a piece of deception with
the knowledge of the meat pie and bowl of milk
episode.
But all other reflections were presently lost
in the charming rose-colored reverie into which
he found himself plunged, and soon he for-
got the existence of his uncle and aunt in


the wild planning of his school duties and
pleasures.
What do you mean, sir! at last thundered
his uncle; "I have spoken to you three times,
and you have not condescended to answer. Go
from the table at once."
Rob looked up, all his hot young blood in his
face. A new-born feeling of self-respect made
him throw his head back and gaze at the
wrinkled, harsh face. Was he not an equal
sharer in the home privileges as well as the
angry old man who commanded him this way
and that, like a slave? He was on the point of
.asserting this new independence, when a glance
at his aunt who sat erect as ever in her.high-
backed chair at the end of the table, made him
suddenly pause, push back his chair, and go out
of the kitchen.
Uncle Joel proceeded with his breakfast
leisurely, making no remark other than to snarl
because the eggs were overdone, and the tea
cold. But Aunt Philena took everything as a
matter of course, and made no attempt at
conversation.
"I've about made up my mind about that
boy," said her brother, pushing back his chair
on the conclusion of the meal, and deliberately
fastening his keen gray eyes on her. "I'm
about at the end of my patience with him.
He's an unpromising lot, at best."
He's 3M 11 's boy, I suppose you remember,"
observed Miss Philena dryly.
L" Hum --yes! but he's Carter's boy as well,
and that makes all the difference in the world,"
replied Joel crossly. _" No, Philena, I've tried
to make something of him quite long enough.
Now he goes."


BEHOLD THE BABE.

B EHOLD a babe, whose sunny head
Reposes on a manger bed,
A helpless Babe, and yet a King,
Whose praise the herald angels sing,
While shepherds bow with glad surprise,
Beside the manger where He lies,
And Eastern sages come from far
To hail the rising Morning Star.
Selected.






THE CHRIST OF ANDERNACH.-AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE.


THE CHRIST OF ANDERNACH.

IN a crooked street of a German town,
'Neath a rough thatched roof, all weathered
and brown,
Stands a crucifix of some renown,
Called the Christ of Andernach.

The figure of wood was made to endure
Hard times, for the work is poor;
And the artist's life is dark and obscure
In this town of Andernach.

From the sour old crone at her pretzel stall,
To the boy who buys of her, one and all
The curious legend can recall
Of the Christ of Andernach:

How a man with a ladder and lantern bright,
Found his way in the depths of night,
To a poor dame's home, to relieve her plight,
In the storms of Andernach.


AN ANcIENT GLERM\AN TOWN.


Who was it that mended the Feldkirk gate ?
The ferryman's boat was repaired quite late
In the night. But none could relate
Who it was in all Andernach.

But an old dame saw what was lovelier still,
As she peeped through the pane above the sill,
A woman's form all poor and chill,
At the feet of the Christ of Andernach.


And the Christ came down from his wooden
cross,
To the mother who fled from the cold and froat,
And said, "Thou and thy babe are not lost
To the Christ of Andernach."

And the dame who saw the scene in the cell,
Told the tale she knew so well,
Told it again, till all could tell
Of the Christ of Andernach.
GARLtAN."D


AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE.

fy? F it had not rained that afternoon, so
They could not go out, I don't know
as it would ever have happened. We
cannot tell; but stranger stories than
this have grown out of no greater events than
unexpected rain storms.
Kate seated herself on Hattie's lap,
Sand began the talk. Kate nearly always
began things. I wish," she said, we
had something nice for Aunt Mary for
Christmas."
Why-e! Hattie said, opening her
eyes very wide, and looking almost in-
sulted, "I think our presents for her are
lovely."
S "Oh! so do I. But I mean--not a
present exactly. I don't know- what I
mean. But I'd like something different
.|a for her some kind of a surprise after
the presents are all over. Of course she
knows we will have something for her
on -the tree. We always do. But I'd
like to surprise her the next day."
How could we ?"
"That's just what I don't know; but I
wish we could. I don't think Aunt
Mary is very happy about something."
About what?" said Hattie, looking sympa-
thetic.
Oh I don't know. But haven't you seen
how sober she is all the time ? 0She only laughs
once in a long while, and then, sometimes she
acts as though she didn't mean the laugh. And
twice this week when I went to her room for.
something, I found her crying."






AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE.


Maybe she feels bad because Uncle Chester
had to go back so soon."
Wise Kate shook her head. Of course she
feels bad about it, but I don't think that is what
makes her sober. She didn't expect Uncle
Chester at all, and because he got a furlough
and spent a whole day with her, was no reason
why she should cry and feel bad after he had
gone back. Besides, I heard her say that it
was the nicest thing that had happened this
year--his coming unexpectedly to spend the
day with us. Of course she wouldn't cry and
be sober over the best thing that had happened
this year. There is something else the matter,
and I wish we could give her a surprise. A
surprise always helps me when I have any
trouble." ,
I don't know what we could do," said poor
Hattie. "We have spent all our money."
Why, we have ten cents," said Kate, and
I know a way by which I could get ten more,
and I'd spend it all to give Aunt Mary pleasure.
I'll tell you what we might do. Don't you
know that Mr. Truesdale who was in the parlor
that evening when there was company, and
asked us all about Christmas, and told us if we
needed any advice to come to him? Grandpa
went to him for advice about something quite
a while ago, and when I asked him why Mr.
Truesdale knew more than he did, he said he
was a lawyer, and was paid for studying all
sorts of things, and then telling people what to
do. We might go and ask him what to do for
Aunt Mary, and he might not charge us but ten
cents, seeing he asked us to come. Then, if he
gave us something nice to do, we might be able
to get the money in some way. I think Grandpa
will help."
After much more talk this plan was carried into
effect. The very next day an astonished lawyer
received the two little girls, and had to be in-
troduced before he recognized them. Kate
was the speaker, as usual.
"We ought to tell you in the first place,"
she began, "that we have but ten cents. So if
the advice will cost more than that we ought
not to take it."
The eminent bowed low, and kept his gravity.
"It shall not cost you more than that sum," he
said. And Kate, much pleased, continued :-


"You see we wanted to do something very
nice for Aunt Mary something that will be a
kind of a surprise after the regular Christmas
surprises are all over. We thought of it be-
cause Aunt Mary is sorry about something; we
don't know what. She cries pretty often, and
doesn't laugh and sing as much as she used to
do, and we love her very much, and want to
help her."
Another grave bow from the lawyer.
"We don't know what is the matter with
her," continued Kate. "Hattie thinks it may be
because Uncle Chester had to go back so soon,
but I don't think it can be, because she didn't
know he was coming at all, and it was just
one day more of him than she expected; and
she said it was the nicest thing that had hap-
pened this year, and of course she wouldn't
. cry about that."
Closer observers than the little girls would
have seen that the lawyer gave a quick start,
and looked keenly at them. "Who is Uncle
Chester? he asked abruptly. When was he
here? "
He is Aunt Mary's only brother. He lives
away off, somewhere, in the army, and he can't
get home only once in a long while; and he
came on my birthday, the seventh day of
December, and stayed all day. Aunt Mary
was alone in the parlor when he walked in.
She was expecting somebody else, we don't
know who ; Grandma told us not to go down to
the parlor because Aunt Mary expected com-
pany. So she was alone in the parlor, and we
heard her scream, and ran down, and there
was Uncle Chester! Aunt Mary had thrown
herself right into his arms, and began to cry,
and he was kissing and kissing her! Hattie
and I could not think at first who he was. We
hadn't seen Uncle Chester since we were grown-
up girls" this last with a dignified toss of
the head.
That lawyer's manner would have pleased
you, he was so attentive to those little girls,
and so eager to serve them. He told them he
never had a case in his life that gave him such
pleasure; that he would give it his most care-
ful attention; and because he was a friend of
their grandfather's he would not charge them
any fee. Then, after a little, he added: -






AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE.


I think I know a way by which you can
surprise her, and I hope give her a great deal of
pleasure. *Are you willing to trust it all to me ?"
Oh! indeed they were. Had.they not heard
their grandfather say he was the greatest lawyer
in the State ?
Very well. Then, Let me see: this is but
the day before Christmas. Are you going to
have company to dinner on Christmas?"
No, they were not; Grandma had intended
to, but Aunt Mary did not care for it, and had
coaxed Grandma to change her plans and wait
till New Year's, when Aunt Sarah would be at
home.
Then could they possibly manage to get him
invited-to dinner? Mr. Truesdale asked, and
keep it a profound secret from Miss Mary? If
they could, he thought he could manage the
whole thing. The surprise they wanted he
would bring with him in his pocket. And in
view of the fact that he thought a great deal
of their grandfather, it should not cost them a
cent.
This almost took their breath away, but they
were business-like, and asked several questions.
First, could they tell Grandma? It would
never do for them to invite anybody to dinner
without asking Grandma, but they were sure
she would be willing. Then, was he sure Aunt
Mary would like his surprise? Because, as he
did not know her very well, if he should choose
something she did not like, it would be very
bad. The lawyer's face flushed a little over
this, but he answered gravely that he believed
he could say this present would please her-
that they might ask her about it afterwards,
and hear for themselves.
It was all arranged at last, and they went
home with relieved hearts. Grandma being
taken into their confidence, was greatly aston-
ished and at first inclined to reprove the young
plotters. But the lawyer had taken the pre-
caution to keep them while he wrote a letter
to her, which he told them was a lawyer's ex-
planation of the case and was necessary to
carry it out in a business-like manner.
It is very queer," said Grandma, her cheeks
pretty red after she had finished the letter,
"and I hardly know what to think, but I--I
suppose we must invite him."


After that the children were important over
their secret. Aunt Mary was very kind, and
not unpleasantly curious as to who the "com-
pany" was. She even made a little cake, and
frosted it elegantly, and made the words
Merry Christmas on it in red sugar plums, and
told the children it was to be presented to their
mysterious guest to take home.
In her secret heart she thought the "coma
pany" was Dicky the Irish boy at Potter's,
who was not very well treated, and for whom
the children were sorry; she thought the
secrecy part was some queer little conceit of
Kate's, who was very fond of secrets. But
she kept her opinions to herself; so 'did
Grandma, and the eventful hour drew on.
Almost 'dinner time, and Aunt Mary had
dressed herself in her dark blue cloth dress,
just to please those silly children, though she
wanted to wear her plain black one, and had her
mouth open to ask them why they thought
Dicky would care whether her dress was blue
or black. But she discreetly closed it again
just in time. The bell rang, and there was
a little bustle in the hall, to get the guest
into the parlor without being seen. Though,
as Aunt Mary had squarely promised that she
would on no account come down stairs until
she was called, there really was not the slightest
danger.
There was the tall lawyer dressed in his best
and looking very elegant. He greeted the
young hostesses with a great deal of ceremony,
and said he would like to have their opinion on
a matter of importance. He took from his
pocket two .tiny boxes and gave them to the
eager, small fingers to open. Only soft pink
cotton visible. Pick it out," said the lawyer,
"and look under. I am waiting for your judg-
ment."
Both little girls uttered exclamations of de-
light. Two lovely gold rings, adorned with tiny
pearls. Did they think, the lawyer questioned,
those rings would please two little friends of
his to whom he wanted to make a Christmas
present?
Oh! they would be sure to please them,"
Kate said, "they were just lovely! while
Hattie murmured, "Elegant."
"But "- and Kate's voice took an anxious






AUNT MARY'S SURPRISE.-CHRISTMAS.


tone -" was he sure they would fit ? It would
be such a disappointment if they should be too
small."
"Ah," said the lawyer, that's the question.
The little girls are about your size; would you
mind trying them on ?"
"They just exactly! Hattie declared with
an admiring sigh, adding, "I suppose they are
truly gold and pearls, aren't they ?"
"Just as truly'1 as the jeweler could make
them," their guest answered, with a smile.
And Hattie explained that once she had a ring,
and thought it was pretty, but it wasn't truly
and Aunt Mary did not like her to wear it.
I suppose you have guessed, before this, that
the rings were for Hattie and Kate; but those
ridiculous little dunces had to be told three
times before they understood. Then their sur-
prise and pleasure were so great that for a few
minutes they were in danger of forgetting
everything else. However, Kate came back to
business with a troubled air. "But you know
the surprise was to be for Aunt Mary," she
said questioningly.
"Yes." He assured them he had not forgotten.
He had her surprise in his pocket. Would they
be so kind as to let. him show it to her first ?
And could they manage to have her come down
to the parlor without letting her know he was
there ? 0, yes! they could do that. Aunt
Mary was waiting to be called to see their
company. So they ran away to summon her,
the lawyer adding the advice that, after they
had done so, it would be a good time for them
to show Grandma their surprise.
This entire programme was carried out, the
little girls being so lost in the occupation of
showing first Grandma and then Grandpa and
then the nurse girl their new treasures, that
they forgot their guest until the dinner bell,
pealed through the house.
It was a great dinner. Aunt Mary's cheeks
were very red, and Kate said afterward that
her eyes "'looked as though they couldn't ever
cry any more tears." And the lawyer motioned
them to look on the third finger of her left
hand for the surprise, and it was a ring.
But it isn't so pretty as ours," said the
girls, talking the whole thing over for the
dozenth time, next day. "There isn't a pearl


in it; just plain gold; and I shouldn't think
Aunt Mary would care for it so much. She
has lots of rings put away in a box."
There's something more about it," said
Hattie. There's a story about it; I wish they
would tell us so that we could understand."
I know the story," said Kate. Mr. Trues-
dale was on the steps that night when Uncle
Chester came, and saw him in the parlor that
time Aunt Mary screamed, you know. Aunt
Mary expected him Mr. Truesdale, you know
- and he didn't like Uncle Chester to be here,
and went away without coming in, arid he
never came again until we invited him to a
Christmas dinner. That's the story. But why
shouldn't he like Uncle Chester to be here?"
broke off the little story-teller in perplexity.
"I don't know," said Hattie. Grown folks
are queer sometimes, I guess, and don't have
reason for things. Why do you suppose they
laughed so hard about that lovely cake Aunt
Mary made? And why did Mr. Truesdale say
he would have a glass case made to keep it in ?
She made it for him to eat. 0 Kate won't it
seem queer to call him Uncle Truesdale ?"
PANsT.


CHRISTMAS.

LORY in the highest, highest,
And on earth good-will to men,"
Are the angels ever singing
As the day draws round again.

As the day that our dear Saviour
Came from Heaven to earth below;
Left His kingdom and His glory,
To share all our cares and woe.

So the angels all are singing
To Him who on the cross once died,
Bearing all the pain and anguish
That we might with Him abide.

Oh! the blessed, blessed Christmas,
Long, long years, oh! may it be
Kept in love, unmixed with sorrow,
Love and Faith and Unity.
JxmEN D. CROw sLL,







AIN'T' MAUY'S SURPRISE.


F -N~-


"I %V ;,1{ WE HAD SOMETHING NICE FOR AUNT MARY."


~=---- -P4~n-


; ;
~n~::~i I
-- I
B~~; _


--- ----- ~IBI
----- -
'~-5~i~JL~Y;lg i-i:---------


_--~-s~-----------~B
I


~-~





I~





































































-DIABUTSU, O GRAT IAGE OF BUDDHA,
- ,. /If w IS Il -,. B3




DIABUTSU, OR GRKAT IMAGE OF BUDDHA.


~






TillE I'ANSY SOCIETY.-FROM AN ISLAM CONVERT'S LETTER.


THE PANSY SOCIETY.

O N Saturday evening the Pansy Society of
the Tuskaloosa (Ala.) Female College gave
a cantata and Christmas ltree. The Gazettee
reporter arrived too late to witness the first part
of the evening's performance, and when he got a
few feet inside the door the little girls commenced
to call him to the stage. Mustering up all of his
courI'ge lie walked straight up to the rostrum,
blinded as lie was by the bright light from the
chandeliers. He expected to receive a ten-
cent comic toy placed on the tree by some little
girl, to have a good laugh at the expense of
ye reporter." Imagine, therefore, his sur-
prise and gratification when old Santa Claus
handed him an envelope, tied with a piece of
pink floss, with the following inscription :
"A Christmas offering of five dollars to the
orphans of Tuskegee; presented by the Pansy
Society in the Primary Department of the Tus-
kaloosa Female College, December 25, 1887."
The reporter was completely taken aback.
He glanced at the snowy white envelope and
saw what it was. He did not know that it had
been read out before, and he felt so proud that
the Pansy Society had remembered the little
orphans that he wanted all the audience to
know it, too. So he turned to read it out to
them, but the surprise and gratification of the
moment caused him to lose his head and eye-
sight at the same time, and he stammered and
stuttered through it. The little folks seemed
to enjoy his discomfiture and applauded roundly.
But that's all right; he's willing to make blun-
ders every day for the sake of the little ones.
Miss Eloise Hemphill and the sweet little
Pansy Society have acted nobly. Out of their
own little savings, in the midst of the festivi-
ties of Christmas, these little girls have con-
tributed of their savings the handsome sum of
five dollars for the little orphans whom God
hath bereft of father and mother. It was one
of the most delicate little acts of kindness it has
ever been our pleasure to witness, and in the
name of the forty orphans at the Tuskegee
Home the Gazettee returns thanks to Miss
Eloise and the little Pansy Society.
This proves that even little children can do
good. The tiniest flower that blooms in the


spring and casts its fragrance on the air, has a
mission to perform. If these little flowers
were created for a purpose, of how much more
service can the Pansy Society be, who are
moving, breathing, animated beings ? The seeds
of charity that have this Christmas been planted
in their hearts by their noble teacher, Miss
Eloise Hemphill, will take root and grow and
bloom as they develop into lovely womanhood,
until, like angels of mercy, they will go about
doing good as long as they live.

FROM AN ISLAM CONVERT'S LETTER.
(To a lady missionary.)

I SEND my salutations to the gracious elect
of our Lord, His Highness Christ. My
dear sister, for a long time I have no informa-
tion concerning your health. Now this sixteenth
of the month of Rabiy the First, I have received
with reverence your writing, which is full of con-
solation sweeter than honey and sugar. Iwas de-
lighted at the safety of your blessed existence.
I am always asking God to grant the gracious sis-
ter health of body, correctness of constitution.
Now, if at the writing of this petition you
should inquire after my health, praise God, I
am in safety. I am engaged day and night in
giving thanks for the glory of Christ. And I
pray and beseech that He may carry us from
this fleeting world to Heaven, having protected
us now and at the last breath from wickedness
of Satan, lest at the Day of Judgment we
should appear with black face and hanging
head. I take refuge in God lest we knock at
the door and hear the answer Nay. You are
much pained at my persecutions. Our Lord,
His Highness Christ, is witness that I regard
these afflictions as my glory, not my trouble
and distress, that I may see if I can come out
of the crucible refined and without fault or not.
Assisted by Divine power I have had much
of these contests with Satan, and, having en-
dured a thousand kinds of trouble, have not
turned the foot backward. I am not of the
crowd of the unfaithful, that for a thorn I
should desert a friend, turn the foot out of the
road, and hang about my neck the yoke of
cursing."- Translated .from the Persian by
J. L. P., Dec. 21, 1887.






BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


T HERE lives in Cleveland, Ohio, a bright
Bohemian girl. Her parents are infidels.
She used to go to Sunday-school, but ceased,
read Bohemian infidel papers, attended worldly
amusements, assisting in acting at a theatre,
and lost faith in God. She had to make the
fire every morning early. She was not very
successful, often trying several times before it
would burn. Somewhere she had read about
God and His answers to prayer, and she thought
within herself, 'If God answers, why not ask
Him to aid me to make a fire?' She tried it,
and lo, the fire started at once. Then she got
the, Pansy books, the reading of which was
blessed to h'er conversion. Now she has re-
nounced the world, determined not only upon
a Christian life, but to be a missionary to her
people."


NE day in India a native came to the mis-
sionary who was his teacher, and said he
had been talking with some sailors who were
bad men, because they told wicked lies. He
said, among other things they told him that the
water where they lived sometimes got so hard
that men could stand on it! That they could
stand in the middle of a river, and the water
would be too hard to let them through. But
of course," said the native, "you know I would
not believe such a silly lie as that! I know
better."
"Well," said the missionary, that story is
true. I have often stood on the water when it
was so hard that men and horses and even
elephants would not break it. Do you believe
that?"
Over the face of the native came an aston-
ished and puzzled look, but his answer was
prompt.
Yes, I believe it because you say so;
but I don't see how it can be! Let me tell
you what I thought when I read this true
story.
I could not help thinking how much more
ready this converted heathen was to believe
what his missionary said, even though he could
not understand how it could be, than we are
sometimes to believe the Lord Jesus Christ
Himself.


BEN-HIADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

PART I.

ITTLE Ben-Hadad stood leaning on
the window-sill, looking out into the
bit of a yard. There was nothing
to be seen in it then, except snow
and one lonesome tree, gaunt and
bare, that shivered a little every time the wind
blew around the corner. Up and down the
street there was nothing but snow on the
houses, on the trees, on the few people that
ventured out on the bitterly cold day--un-
usually cold, even for the day before Christmas.
Ben-Hadad shivered. Just then a man went
by, his overcoat buttoned tightly about him,
carrying over his shoulder a Christmas tree, its
long evergreen branches covered with snow,
like the rest of the world. The boy looked
after him thoughtfully. I suppose," he said,
thinking aloud, "that we will have Christmas
this year. Won't it be fun?"
More men went by. The sun was warming
the air, and women began to venture out.
Every one that passed Ben-Hadad knew was
preparing for Christmas. Pocket-books went
one way, and packages of all shapes and sizes
returned. I suppose," said Ben-Hadad again,
that there is nothing in the pocket-books when
they come back, so they don't care to show
them." Then he reached down into his pocket
and brought out a dingy two-cent piece, laugh-
ing as he surveyed it doubtfully. "I might
buy a stick of candy for Uncle Flatiron," he
said, and laughed again.
The door opened just then, and a woman
came in. "To whom are you talking, Ben-'
Hadad?" she asked. And why do you
nearly freeze yourself over there by the win-
dow? Your nose looks like an icicle."
I was just thinking aloud, mother, and not
talking to any one. It isn't very cold here.
My nose is cold because I have been leaning
it against the glass. Come see these birds,
mother. Don't you like to see the people go
by ? They are all getting ready for Christmas.
Don't they. look cold?-the birds, I mean.
Can't we have Christmas this year?"
"How you can talk!" said Mother Hadad,







BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


coming to the window, and looking over the
boy's shoulder. "Yes, Bennie, I think we will
have Christmas this year."
That will -be nice," said Bennie decidedly.
"I have always wanted to, when everybody
seemed to have such fine times, and now the
time has come."
We have only just learned how to celebrate
it, Bennie." And the boy thought he saw a
wee tear intrude upon the soot on the window-
sill. He looked up quickly, but no.more ven-
tured out.
See those birds, mother. Don't they look
hungry? How do you suppose they will get
anything to eat ?"
"I don't know," said Mother Hadad, smiling.
"That is, unless you give them some crumbs
off that dry loaf in the pantry."
May I, mother?"
If you will promise not to keep the window
open a minute after you have put them out,
and be sure and not stop to throw a snowball
at any one."
He laughed, and ran away to get the crumbs.


did not love, that he had told them about Him,
and little by little they had been persuaded to
go to his "teacher's church," and, to make a
long story short, first'Mother Hadad, and then
Father Hadad, had learned to love the Christ,
too, and as little Ben said only to himself,
not even aloud they were both nicer than
they had been before, although of course he
couldn't love them any more."
But after his father and mother had joined
the Christian church, hard times began for
them. For Father Hadad was discharged from
the store where he was working, and they be-
came very poor; sometimes had hardly enough
to eat.
It'was only about a month before my story
begins that the father had got another place -
in a store where -he received a good salary
- and good times began again for the Hadad
family.
That was how this came to be their first

At supper that night, when Father Hadad
had come home, they began very earnestly to


BEN-HADAD S VISITORS.


And now, to introduce you to this family: it
consisted of Father and Mother Hadad, and
little Ben-Hadad, all Jews, whose ancestors,
years and years ago, had come over from Pales-
tine. But this year little Ben had been invited
into a Christian Sunday-school, where he learned
so much of Jesus, whom his father and mother


talk over what they would do to celebrate,
"I was called into the office to-day," said the
father, "and Mr. Sanborn said we would close
the store to-morrow, so he would wish me a
Merry Christmas, and, would Ben come to his
house in the morning and get something he and
his wife wanted to send us to celebrate with."







BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


"What do you suppose it can be ?" asked
Ben-Hadad, his eyes shining.
SI presume a chicken, or something of that
sort. Mr. Sanborn has a very large poultry
yard, and they tell me that every Christmas he
gives away a great number of chickens and
turkeys."
"It was kind in him to remember us," said
Mother Hadad thoughtfully; not as though
she were thinking of what she said, but of
something else.
Presently she laid down her fork, and bend-
ing over to him, whispered in his ear, Let us
have a Christmas party "
Ben-Hadad looked at her to see that she was
in earnest, and clapping his hands, exclaimed,
' Wouldn't that be splendid ?"
Hush! said M..1 I. Hadad aloud. "Don't
tell your father. I guess we can have a secret
of our own."
Father Hadad raised his hands in mock
despair. And is my family to turn against
me, and form conspiracies?" he asked.
"Never you mind," said his wife, laughing
across the teapot. "I've always heard that
Christmas Eve was the time for secrets. Now,
Ben-Hadad, if you want to talk it over with
me after supper,-you will have to help me clear
off the-table and wipe the dishes."
"All right," said Bennie, and he was soon
armed with a towel. Begin," said he.
"Not until the work is done," said his
mother. I must think a little first."
"Thinking," with Ben-Hadad, was hard to
do at any time, so busy did he keep his tongue.
"Mother," he began presently, "do you sup-
pose any of our great-great-great-grandfathers
-away back, you know-lived near Bethle-
hem?"
0 yes! said Mother Hadad, as she briskly
washed a plate. My family was a Bethlehem
one of the house of David; and so was your
father's. That makes me think of an old Christ-
mas legend they used to tell in his family."
Christmas ? They didn't have any."
"I know it. But the Hadads that lived in
Bethlehem when Christ was born, were Chris-
tians; at least so the story goes. It is about
little Ben-Hadad, who they say was just your
age."


Go ahead," said Ben-Hadad briefly, using
terms which I am sure would have shocked his
ancestor.
It is very little of a story. Ben-Hadad was
wandering around one evening, looking for
something to do. You know there were a great
many people in the city, for they had come up
to be taxed."
"I wouldn't have come if I had been they,"
observed Ben-Hadad. "Let the tax man come
to them !"
Then you would have been arrested, per-
haps, for the Romans looked out for their taxes.
But little Ben-Hadad, your ancestor, liked to see
the people, and while he was taking his walk,
he came -across the stable where Mary and
Joseph were."
"And the baby ?"
"And the Christ-child. He was there when
the Wise Men from the East came with their
gifts, and looked at them wonderingly. And
when he saw where the baby lay in the manger,
and that there was but a little straw in it for a
bed, he went about and gathered more, and
brought it to the strange cradle. And just as
Mary was thanking him, the shepherds came-in
and told of the angels and their song: Glory
to God in the highest, and on earth peace,
good-will toward men.' When Ben-Hadad
grew up, he saw Jesus crucified, and always
afterward he wore about his neck a cross made
of two wisps of straw, in memory of what he
had done for the Christ-child."
That is a beautiful story," said Ben-Hadad,
when his mother was silent. "Do you suppose
it is true, mother ?"
"No," said Mother Hadad, "I do not sup-
pose it is. Stories brought down from so long
ago are apt to be mere traditions. But I think
myself it is a sweet legend, and I will tell you
presently something that I think it teaches.
You have finished your dishes now. While I
am putting the kitchen in order, suppose you
get the Bible, and read me the story of
Christmas, to celebrate Christmas Eve; first in
Matthew, then in Luke."
So Ben-Hadad got their new Bible, and -read-
the old story of the shepherds and the Wise
Men, and .the star which shone over one of
Bethlehem's lowliest stables, -







BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


In the starry midnight,
Centuries ago."
Meantime Mother Hadad moved rapidly
about the little kitchen, and hung up the dish-
pans, and brushed off the stove.
Ben-Hadad was silent for a moment or two
when he had finished. "Mother," he said
presently, "I think that song was the prettiest
thing that ever was written."
"What song, Bennie?"
"Why, the angels' 'Glory to God,' you
know."
"I don't know but I think so, too," said
Mother Hadad.
There was silence then for a long time, save
for the swish of her broom.
"What are you thinking of, Bennie?" she
asked, after a few moments.
"I was thinking," said he thoughtfully, how
much I would like to have been there."
"In Bethlehem?"
"Yes. To have done anything like what he
did, you know, for the Christ."
Ben-Hadad's sentences were rather mixed,
but his mother understood him.
"Bennie," she said, turn to the twenty-fifth
chapter of Matthew, and read the fortieth
verse."
After some searching, Ben-Hadad read:
"And the King shall answer and say unto them,
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me."
"Do you see," asked Mother Hadad, "that
you have as much opportunity to do something
for the Christ as had little Ben-Hadad of
Bethlehem ?"
Ben-Hadad was thoughtful. "Mother," he
asked, "was that the lesson you wanted me to
learn from the straw story?"
His mother smiled and nodded as she took a
seat by the fire in a low rocker. "Come," she
said, "now to our party. We can't afford a
fire in the parlor to-night, we are going to be so
expensive to-morrow. I am going to let you
invite two people to a Christmas supper to-
morrow night. We will have that chicken that
Mr. Sanborn will send us, and mashed potatoes;
I will make a little apple sauce or something,
for a relish, and you can buy some candy and


a cake at the baker's; we will have a regular
Christmas. Your father had his next month's
salary paid in advance, and he and I decided
that we could spend a little more money than
usual, seeing it is our first Christmas."
Ben-Hadad's face had grown brighter and
more astonished at every sentence of his
mother's. "How perfectly magnificent!" he
said. "And I may invite two whole people to
the house ?"
Unless you have them in pieces," said his
mother, smiling.
"Whom would you invite?"
"Two of the least," said Mother Hadad
promptly.
Ben-Hadad looked astonished.
Two of the least of His brethren,' I mean,
You have not forgotten your lesson? If I
were you, Bennie, I would invite the most dis-
agreeable person and the most uncomfortable
person that I knew."
Ben-Hadad laughed. "That would be a
funny party. Well, the most disagreeable, per-
son I know is Uncle Flatiron -he is the most
uncomfortable person, too, but I will have to
find another."
Uncle Flatiron was a very cross and very
deaf old man who lived next door, and was so
called because he kept fastened to his door an
ancient flat-iron for visitors to knock with, as
he could not hear ordinary knocks. The wicked
little boys of the neighborhood used to throw
snowballs against the house, 'to make him think
some one was rapping, and come to the door.
Much discussion was held between Ben-
Hadad and his mother concerning the Christ-
mas party, and it was agreed that the former
should invite Uncle Flatiron, and look about,
between'then and the next evening, for some
other uncomfortable person.
Mother," he said, I'm not sure that Uncle
Flatiron is a brethren.' "
Mother Hadad smiled. God hath made of
one blood all the nations of the earth," she
said, "and whether he recognizes his family or
not, he is a brethren,' as you say, all the same."
Two or three blocks from the Hadads' home
was a large stone church where little Ben-Hadad
used to love to go on Saturday evenings, to
hear the choir, which was, a very fine one,







BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


practice for the next day. As he had heard
they were to rehearse the Christmas service, he
went around that evening and got his usual
place, a corner near the door; the sexton was a
friend of his, and always let him come in to listen.
The cushions of his seat were soft, and some-
times he would fall asleep during the singing.
In the church there was a large and fine
painting, which the sexton said had been
copied by a very great artist, from one which
represented Mary and the Christ-child. The
face of the mother was gentle and sweet, and
that of the child such a wonderful mingling
of tenderness and simplicity and thoughtful-
ness, that Ben-Hadad never tired of looking at
it. To-night he thought both faces seemed
more lovely than usual, in honor of the great
birthday of to-morrow, and the child seemed
listening to the music the choir sang of Him.
For they sang beautiful songs that evening,
Ben-Hadad thought. "It could not have been,"
he said to himself, "that the song of the angels
over the pastures of Bethlehem sounded much
sweeter." They sang "Glory to God in the
highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward
men The wonderful Hallelujah Chorus"
from Handel, which has never been equalled,
Ben listened to almost without breathing; but
the best thing of all, was when a very beautiful
lady arose in one corner of the choir, and in a
voice of such richness and sweetness as little
Ben-Hadad had never before heard, sang these
words: -
"0 little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shincth
The everlasting light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.
0 morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.
For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,
Whilb mortals sleep the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.


No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him'still,
The dear Christ enters in.

Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to thee
Son of the Mother mild,

Where Charity stands watching,
And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.

0 holy child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray!
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.


We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
0 come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel! *


PARANETE.


T HERE once was a great preacher by the
name of Monod. In one of his sermons
he told a story about two little girls who were
watching the sunset. The older one told her
little sister to notice what a long way the sun
had traveled since morning. The little one
reminded her that father had told them only
that morning that the sun did not move.
"Yes," said the older sister, "but I don't be-
lieve it. I saw the sun rise over there this
very morning; and now it is away over here.
How can a thing go all that distance without
moving? If we didn't move we should always
be where we are now, up on this hill."
But," said the little one, "you know father
said it was the earth that moved."
"I know it," said the other, "but I don't be-
lieve that, either. I am standing on the earth
now, and so are you. How can you pretend to
think it moves when you see it does not stir "
Said the great preacher, These simple ones
might divide mankind between them, and carry
the banner of their parties through the world.
There never has been, and there never will be
any other division, but they that take, and they
that will not take, their Father's word."
What Father do you think he meant?

Dr. Phillips Brooks.






BEN-HIADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.











.5 ,





17,,
C.. -, -.,



-.: -L '. 2
:r '
L




.' A.- --. :

.. ... .W

.' .f~ W2






I 2 o sz


Irr
6=..-..:.. t i -. ,'"
.,.. _,. : .; '
m .. .-- ..
o : .:..~~;.

~ -. -;o. '... ..
: .. o .. :. ''.: _
.:=.


MARY AND THE CHRIST-CHILD.

















.4~,-* ~X


1A ---r


~I
i-. ;; B




----

J
~



-- ;.
----.
Ir
--
~- ;--


00)s


"THE FINISHING STROKl.






THE LESSON ELSIE TAUGHT.


THE LESSON ELSIE TAUGHT.

lHE met Dick in front of her own door.
SHe had no hat on, and a handkerchief
was tied over one eye. Dick was one of
the scholars in the Mission School, and
one of the hardest to manage that she
had. IIe was always getting into what he called
scrapes."
"Why, Dick!" she said, stopping before
Shim, speaking, in a troubled voice, "what is
the matter? Is it your eye? How did you
get hurt ? 0, Dick! you.haven't been fighting
again ?"
"Yes'm," said Dick, with a good-natured
grin, but whether the answer referred to the


ST.


jL WL

Pt -,I :


fighting, or the hurt eye, he did not say. Elsie,
however, seemed to understand.
Dick! she said again. "I am so sorry
to hear it! You told me you wouldn't. What
is your word worth if you break it so easily?"
-But now Dick looked dignified. "No, I
didn't," he said with more honesty than polite-
ness. Dick was never very polite; he had no one


to teach him how to be. I said I wouldn't if I
could help it; and this time I couldn't help it,
There was a poor little chap getting the worst of
it, and there was a mean big chap who was
giving it to him right and left'; so I had to
pitch in. He give me a black eye, but that
ain't no account; he let the little chap alone,
and that was what I was after."
Elsie did not look much comforted. I am
glad to have you kind to little boys," she said,
" but there must be some better way than fight-
ing for them. Think what else you have done
besides making the big boy let the other alone.
You have taught the little fellow that the way
to get along in this world is to strike blows
right and left at people who do not treat us
well. Honestly, Dick, wasn't there anything
else you could have done to have saved the
little fellow ?"
"I s'pose there was," Dick answered, meet-
ing her gaze with a straightforward look. I
reckon the other chap would have let him
alone if I had told him to. He don't particu-
larly care to get on the wrong side of my
doubled-up fist; and if I had sung out to him
when I first come up, instead of giving him a
knock without saying a word, I s'pose it would
have done the business for me, but you see I
was mad, and I couldn't help hitting in."
"There!" said Elsie triumphantly, a good
deal relieved, if the truth must be told, that
her question had not lost its point by an assur-
ance on Dick's part that there was no other
way to save his friend. See what you have
done. Instead of showing yourself to be truly
noble, and controlling your hands when they
ought to be controlled, you have taught the
little fellow a lesson that may do him more
harm than a dozen knocks would have done.
Besides that, to-morrow, when you go to Sab-
bath-school, you will show the boys that you
have been fighting again; and that will teach
them a lesson. They will believe that it is
necessary to fight in order to get through the
world; you know they all look up to you be-
cause you are larger and stronger than they; and
they will think that it doesn't make any difference
whether one keeps a promise or not. They heard
your promise, you know. I am so much dis-
appointed, Dick! The first week of the New







THE LESSON ELSIE TAUGHT.


Year, too. You see, Dick, the trouble is we
teach lessons to others when we have no idea
of doing such a thing. If we could only re-
member that they are watching us, we would
be more careful."
If she had not said that last, it would have
been so much better. She felt very well satis-
fied with her talk; it seemed to her it must be
making an impression; her illustrations, partic-
ularly, seemed to her very excellent. What was
her disappointment, not to say dismay, to see a
broad smile spread itself over Dick's face, as he
said in the most good-natured tone, "Yes'm,
That's true; we teach lessons that we ain't no
kind of notion of."
Elsie was so disappointed that she turned
away and went up the steps of her house with-
out another word. To her mother she said
that she was afraid Dick was too thoroughly
hardened in bad ways for her to do anything
with him.
What would she have thought could she
have heard what Dick said as he walked down
street? "That's enough sight truer than she
thinks, that about teaching. Guess I know it.
I know what she teaches when she ain't no kind
of a notion that she is teaching anybody any-
thing. I never reached no little chap to cheat;
I know that. And what's more, I don't mean
to. There ain't a fellow on our street but
knows he can trust Dick Barker to a red cent, if
he don't keep his promise about fighting She
needn't talk, that teacher needn't."
Now, what did poor Dick Barker mean?
Sorry am I to have to tell you the story. But
one lovely October day Elsie taught her Sabbath
scholar a lesson.that she knows nothing about.
It was on the croquet ground, and Elsie in a
most becoming fall suit, was just giving the
finishing stroke to a closely-contested game, in
which she was evidently to be victor. Her
partner stood watching the stroke with a satis-
fied air, while the discomfited couple who
were being beaten, had retired to a seat under
the tree, and pretended to be quite crushed.
And none of them thought of the boy Dick
Barker who had been there but a few minutes
before, to bring a note to Elsie. He had stood
watching the game, admiring Elsie's skillful-
strokes and exulting in the belief that she was


going to beat, when he saw-- oh! pity that I
should have to tell it he saw the shapely foot
give one little, little touch to the ball that was
just about to stop! It didn't take a second, but
it changed the course of the ball just a hair's
breadth, so that Elsie knew, and Dick Barker
knew, that at the next turn it would go through
the wicket, whereas, without that touch, it
would not have done so.
Dick put his hands in his pocket and whistled,
but the words that went with the tune he
whistled were, Cheatin'! Cheatin'! I call
that cheatin'!" And she was his Sabbath-
school teacher! Dick had never forgotten it.
The thought of it came often and often to
point the moral of the lesson she was trying to
teach, and made him say "Yes'm" with that
disagreeable grin, instead of looking grave and
thoughtful. Elsie did not know that he knew
anything about the false move in that game of
croquet. Neither did Dick know some things
about it that I wish he had. He did not know
that Elsie cried over it after she went home,
and would have given up cheerfully every
pretty thing she had in the world, if she could
thereby get rid of that one hateful push. He
did not know that she had confessed it on her
knees, and had done what she could to right
the wrong, and be forgiven. And I say
again, that I wish so much he did. It would
make her teaching next Sunday so 'much more
hopeful.
But in the meantime cannot you and I
learn a lesson from both of them? Shall we
not be even more careful than we ever were
before, to teach no evil lesson by false moves?
Then, shall we not remember that since we
cannot see the heart, the very sin which .*.t..n.l
us in another, may be wept over in bitterness
by that other, and that the Lord Jesus who- is
"faithful and just to forgive us our sins," may
have forgiven it? PANSY.


A GOOD conscience is more to be desired
than all the riches of the East. How sweet
are the slumbers of him who can lie down on
his pillow and review the transactions of every
day, without condemning himself! A good
conscience is the finest opiate.






BABY'S CORNER.


BABY'S CORNER.

VIIO TOOK CARE OF BABY?

tf gf NE day mamma sat Baby Lou on the
; lll' bed and put large pillows behind her.
Then she brought some pretty play-
thiings and put before her. Mamma
sat down by the window and went to
sewing on a red dress for Baby.
Little Lou hugged her dolly and kissed it,
then she danced it up and down and squeezed
its head. She jingled her rattle. She bit her
ivory ring and pounded a tin cup with a spoon,
and swung her string of spools.
At last she got tired of them all. She said
to herself: "I will throw my tin horse on the
floor. It will make a nice bang."
So down it went. Then she threw the string
of spools and the ring. The rattle-box went


BABY LOU.


next; all its little bells jingled as it fell, and
Baby laughed.
Should she throw dolly-her sweet dolly?
Yes, she must. Dolly fell on the floor with a
bump and Baby looked sorry. Now everything
was gone. She looked at mamma. She was
just going to put out her hands to beg mamma
to take her, but her eyes felt queer and her
little hands dropped down by her side. In -a
second Baby was fast asleep.
Ah," said mamma, "now is a good time


for me to go down stairs and iron Baby's white
dress."
So she went and left Little Lou alone, but
she was safe, because the dear God sends angels
to watch over babies while they sleep.
By and by Baby Lou waked up. She turned
her head to the window- to look at mamma, but
no mamma was there. Her chair was empty.
Then Baby was afraid. She doubled up her
fat little hand and rubbed her eye and began
to cry.
But what was that queer little noise?
"Peep, peep, peep "
Baby stopped crying and looked about her.
What did she see ? Why, a lovely little yellow
bird hopping around on the bed.
It was Jip, who lived in a pretty cage that
hung on a nail by the window. His door had
been left open, so he came out to see Baby.
Baby did not know Jip could walk. She
opened her eyes wide and stared at him.
He picked at the threads in the spread,
then he turned his head on one side and
looked at Baby with his little round eyes.
He hopped up on the foot board at last
and sung a sweet song. Baby smiled at
him.
Mamma had some callers. They kept
her a long time, but little Lou was not
afraid, because the dear bird was with
her.
When mamma came in Jip was stand-
ing on Baby's pillow, and she was talking
funny little Baby words to him.
Good little Jip," said mamma,." did you
take care of precious Baby? Jip shall have a
lump of sugar."
Mns. C. M. LIVINGSTON.



"You know Truth by being true; you recog-
nize God by being like Him." Even a little
child can understand this.






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.

BY PANSY.

THE VOICE OF ONE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS, PREPARE
YE THE WAY OF THE LORD.
As HIS CUSTOM WAS, HE WENT INTO THE SYNAGOGUE ON
THE SABBATH DAY.
As SOON AS HE HAD SPOKEN, IMMEDIATELY THE LEPROSY
DEPARTED FROM HIM AND HE WAS CLEANSED.
WHO FORGIVETH ALL THINE INIQUITIES, WHO HEALTH
ALL THY DISEASES.

R ALPH moved restlessly about the room,
not seeming able to settle anything. The
little girls were ready for church, and his
mother had twice told him that he would be
late, before he made up his .mind to speak:
" I don't believe I'll go to church to-day,
mother."
Are you sick?" his mother asked, pausing
in the midst of her bustling about, and looking
at him anxiously.
"No, ma'am, not sick exactly, but you know
I have a cold," he said, giving a little cough,
as if to prove his words. "I don't feel just
like going, somehow."
"Well," said Mrs. Selmser, speaking with a
little hesitation, as one who didn't half-like
*hat she was going to say, you know we like
to have all the family about us in church, and
it ought to be an important reason that keeps
one at home, but then, if you don't feel well
enough to go, that is reason enough. You are
sure you -have not a sore throat?" and she
looked at him anxiously.
"0, no, ma'am! my throat isn't sore a bit;
it is just a cold, you.know." And again he
tried that little cough.
"Well," said Mrs. Selmser again, "I sup-
pose you will have to stay at home. But what
will you do all the morning? Perhaps I would
better stay with you."
"Oh no, indeed," Ralph said, "I wouldn't
have you do that for anything. I can get along
all right. I've got a nice book to read."
Mrs. Selmser did not look as pleased as she
might have done over this bit of news. The
Bible is the best book to read on Sunday when
people cannot go to church," she said gravely.
"Oh! I shall read the Bible," Ralph an-


swered eagerly. I'm going to read my chapter
the first thing, and some of my marked verses,
before I open my Sunday-school book."
"And live up to them? Reading Bible
verses doesn't amount to much, you know,
unless you do what they say."
SWhy, of course," said Ralph, but he spoke
less confidently than before. He knew enough
about the Bible to realize that it was sometimes
a hard book.to live up to.
In another hour the family were all gone,
and Ralph was alone in the neat kitchen, with
the fire burning brightly, and his attractive-
looking book on his lap. He had read a few
pages in it the night before, but he did not
himself realize how much this had had to do
with his not feeling well enough to go to church.
His friend, Bennie Stone, had given it to him
on Saturday morning, to return to the library
for him, and secure another, because he was
going to his grandmother's to spend Sunday,
and could not do it for himself. Ralph had
not looked into the book until night, and then,
as I say, had found it delightful. All the while
he was undressing, he tried to plan how he
might read that book. He could not draw it
from the school, because it would be his turn
to-morrow to have a book for which he had
been waiting several weeks. If he let this
opportunity pass, there was no telling when he
would have another. It was just as he was
hopping into bed, that the thought came to
him: "If I shouldn't happen 'to be well
enough to go to church to-morrow morning, I
might read it then."
On the whole, I do not think it strange that
by morning he thought himself not very well.
The book lay on his lap, but Ralph was mind-
ful of his promise, and reached for Grandmother's
Bible. First his chapter -he was reading the
Bible through in course. The chapter for the
day proved to be almost entirely composed of
proper names. Ralph tried to give them atten-
tion, but could not help thinking how uninterest-
ing they were. Now, for a marked verse; he
decided that he would read only one to-day,
and that he would take it from the Gospels -
the first marked verse he saw. This was the
verse: "As His custom was, he went into the
synagogue on the Sabbath day." Ralph read it






OPPORTUNITY.


through twice before he began to realize what
"living up" to this verse was going to mean
to him.
Gradually the thought shaped itself in his
mind: "That verse is about Jesus, and to live
up to it, I must do as near like Him as I can.
Well, don't I, I should like to know? When
have I stayed away from church before? A
fellow can't go to church when he has a cold.
Disturb all the people coughing. Poh! Ralph
Sclmser, what's the use? You know you haven't
coughed but three times this morning; and two
of those you could have smothered if you had-
wanted to. And you know if it was Monday,
and there was a coasting spree on the hill,
you would coax like a good fellow, to go, and
know forty reasons why it wouldn't hurt you."
Were there two people talking? Ralph felt a
little curious about it himself ; they seemed to
hold such different views; but he knew this
much: both of them lived in his heart. Silence
for a few minutes,. during which time Ralph
read the marked verse again. Then he rose up,
stretched himself, looked in the glass in the
clock face to make sure that his hair was all
right, and made this remark: It is my opinion,
Ralph Selmser, that you had better do 'as your
custom is,' and make for church as fast as your
legs can carry you."
It was during the singing of the second hymn
that he slipped past his father and took a seat
at his mother's side. For the benefit of those
interested, I want to report that he did not
cough once during the service.
What has become of your cold ?" asked his
mother after the benediction was pronounced.
Gone," he answered with a queer smile.
"There was a verse in Grandmother's Bible
that cured it."
Mrs; Selmser asked no more questions; in
some respects she was a wise woman. On the
way home from church she said she shouldn't
wonder if mother's Bible would be worth a
fortune to the children.


I xiNOW no sweeter way to heaven than
through free grace and hard trials together.
And, where grace is, hard trials are seldom
wanting.


OPPORTUNITY.

q" rARION was not jealous of her little
Cousin; she had smiled on her brightly
this New Year's morning, and helped
her count the many things she had
to be glad over, and -had gotten
through the first half of the hard day without
shedding a tear. It was when little Lora climbed
a chair and put both chubby arms around her
mother's neck, as she said, What would Lora
do without her dear, dear mamma?" that
Marion felt a great lump rise in her throat, and
had to turn away quickly to hide the tears.
Even then she was not jealous, only very, very
sad.
Let me tell you about her. Just one year
before, on New Year's day, she had been living
in the beautiful Southland, with her father and
mother and two big brothers. The day had
been a very happy one. Marion remembered
that the New Year's dinner had been served on
the south piazza, where the sunshine made
everything warm and bright. She remem-
bered that they had green peas for dinner,
picked that day from their own garden.
Only a year since that time, and now she was
in the frozen North alone. Father, mother,
and brothers all gone! She had not even a
relative in this country with whom she could
live.
An old friend of her father's had sent for her,
brought her to his home, taught her to call
him uncle, and the whole family had adopted
her, and did everything they could to make her
happy. Lora had counted her that very morn-
ing as one of the things" she had to be glad
over. Yet I think you can understand why
she found it hard to keep back the tears.
She ran down stairs and took refuge from
some one who was coming down the hall, in the
first room she reached. This proved to be the
refreshment room, for, as I have told you, it
was New Year's day, and Miss Helena was re-
ceiving calls. There was no one in the room
when Marion entered, but in a moment more
two young men came from the parlor. One of
them went to the refreshment table, and began
to help himself, the other stood one side and

waited for him.






OPPORTUNITY.-THE HARD TEXT.


Shall I pour you a cup of coffee, Nellis?"
asked his friend.
"No, thanks; I have drank all the coffee I
care for to-day. I will wait here for you." He
stepped nearer the deep window seat, behind
whose heavy curtains Marion had hidden her-
self. There he saw the pale little girl in a
black dress, with the tears still slowly follow-
ing one another down her cheeks. He was a
special friend of the family, and knew Marion's
sad story, though she did not know him very
well.
Happy New Year! he said softly, respect-
ing her evident desire to hide. "Have you
been happy to-day ?"
Marion struggled with her tears, and tried to
control her voice, as she said, "No, sir."
Not? he said, putting a surprised tone into
his voice. "Isn't that rather strange on this
first bright day of the New Year?"
She could not help feeling a little indignant.
What was a bright day to her? Of course
he did not know about her, but it seemed
to Marion as though everybody ought to know
just what a desolate little girl she .was. She
turned her head a little, so she could see his
face, and said, This is the first New Year's
day I ever spent away from my father, and
mother, and brothers, and they are all dead,
and I am alone."
The sentence had been commenced bravely,
but her poor little voice failed her before
its close, and the last word was almost a
wail. Still she made very little noise. The
gentleman at the other end of the room,
drinking coffee, and eating cake, did not hear
her at all.
"I know," said the tall gentleman by the
window, bending forward a little, and speaking
very gently, but there is another way to put
it: this is the first New Year's day your father
and mother and brothers ever spent in Heaven.
They are safe and glad and happy forever, and
the reason they can be happy there without
their little daughter is because they have left
her in the care of One.who is so wise and good
and great, that they know He never makes a
mistake about anything. And they know He
has promised that just as soon as the right
time comes, their daughter shall come home to


them to live forever. Meantime, while she is
waiting here, this great Friend whom her
parents love and serve, has a little work for her
to do. Part of it is to show people how en-
tirely she trusts Him, and that she can be cheer-
ful and happy because she knows she is in His
hands, and He has made no mistake."
There were still tears on Marion's face, but
she was smiling before these sentences were
concluded.
Thank you," she said, I never thought of
it that way. I did not know that I ought to
be happy without them, and sometimes it made
me feel badly to think they could be happy
even in Heaven without me. I won't ever feel
so, any more."
Come, Nellis," said the coffee-drinker, "we
ought to be moving. We shall not get half-
way down our list at this rate."
"All ready," said his friend. "Good-by!"
This last word spoken softly to the shadow
behind the curtain; and he went away, hav-
ing used his opportunity to bind up a bruised
heart. PANSY.


THE HARD TEXT.

(The Blessed. Matt. v. 3-9.)

A LITTLE boy was once distressed over
these seven verses because they seemed
to describe seven different persons with a
different promise and some of the promises
not so good as others. One especially,
" They shall inherit the earth," seemed to
him very nice. "But what's all the earth,"
he asked, "if one hasn't any heaven?" At
last the thought came to him: "What if
these seven verses are all about the same per-
sons? What if they are a picture of God's
Child ? What if Jesus has painted it for me to
look at and study and try to be like ?" His
distress gave way to peace and joy. Jesus
seemed to be looking out of that dear picture
and whispering, My child, I want you to be
poor in spirit, to be merciful, to be pure in
heart, to be a peacemaker and much more.
Study this picture at home, in school, every-
where; I want to nake you like it."





TOBY, PONTO AND BRUCE.


TOBY, PONTO AND BRUCE.

V DON'T like them very well. I'll
confess that at once, so there may be
a distinct understanding between us.
Especially I don't like them when I
think they are out of their proper places;
though that I am willing to own, is more
often the fault of their silly owners than of
themselves.
For instance, take a careful look at the pict-
ure. Here is a nice large wash-room, plenty of
soap, hot and cold water, brushes, combs, every-
thing comfortable for giving a nice bath, even to
a motherly-looking woman to give it. And here
are three miserable dogs all of whom hate and
despise soap, and hot water and towels, and
they are the creatures who are to have all this
care!
In the arm chair, cuddled into a soft blanket is
Toby; he has been through the mill, and is set
up there to dry. He looks sullen and disgusted.
Ponto is just being lifted out of the tub, the
water streaming from every hair of his coat,
and the look he bestows on the care-taker is
anything but grateful. Bruce is still at liberty,
and has been all day trying to plan a way of
escape from that dreadful bath; but he knows
in his scared heart that it can't be done, and
that his turn is coming swiftly.
As for Aunt Katie, the woman with her skirt
pinned about her waist, and her sleeves rolled
above her elbows, you need not think she enjoys
this performance. She is much too sensible a
woman for that. It is part of the work she is
paid to do, so she does it as well as she can, like
the faithful woman that she is. But as she
lifted Ponto, all dripping and mad from the
foam, if you had been within hearing, you
would have heard her strong Irish voice sayiiig
something after this fashion: 0 yes! howl;
that's the return I get for all this trouble. It's
grateful you are, and that's a fact! Not that I
wonder at you. The wonder is how you stand
such pampering, and don't turn around and
bite very one of my fingers. To think that
the likes of me should be spending my time
giving baths to dumb beasts, when the streets
are full of little children with nobody to do for
them! It's Aunt Katie that hopes that none,


of their own kith and kin will come to the
streets, without baths or beds, I am sure; but
it would almost be serving them right, since
they can waste so much time on the dogs, and
leave the motherless children to get along as
best they can. Come along, Bruce, it is your
turn now, and you may be sure I'll scrub you
well. I'll do my duty by you if you are only a
dog, and if you hate me to pay for it."
Truth to tell, Aunt Katie felt unusually
cross that evening; if you had been there about
five o'clock you wouldn't have wondered at it.
It was then that a poor little girl, with pieces
of shoes tied to her cold feet with white cord,
and a bit of an old ragged quilt over her head
and around her shoulders, her -only protection
from the bitter cold, had appeared at the dining-
room door, and spoken to the lady of the house,
who had at that moment opened the door to let
Bruce in.
Could you please, ma'am, give me a bite of
bread? I've had no dinner, and I'm that faint
I can't hardly walk."
The only answer was a look of exceeding
annoyance, as the lady turned and spoke to her
coachman who at that moment crossed the
lawn. Patrick, see that that child gets away
from here at once. Things have reached a
pretty pass if one cannot come to one's piazza
door without meeting a beggar."
As she passed into the dining-room she met
Katie, and this was her message: Katie, see
that Bruce has a large piece of the white meat.
He is as fond of turkey as his mistress is."
Now Katie had heard what the hungry little
girl had said, and, being a kind-hearted woman,
you may judge how much she felt like cutting
slices of turkey for Bruce.
I don't know how you feel about it, but
whenever I see a little pug-nosed dog, or a dog
with any kind of a nose, for that matter, receiv-
ing the baths and food and caresses that ought
to be given to little homeless hungry children,
I feel sure there is something wrong, and. that
He who blessed little children when He was on
earth, will call to account, some day, those who
put dogs in their places.
You are not to suppose that I want the dogs
ill-treated, but I do not want them to change
places with the children. PANY.


























.i
'II
I ;, ] II
L^'S^'' "


AUNT KATI AT WORK.
AUST KATI1S AT YORIt.


1i ,


i,.
~e
I$b~i ~L


nlrlii
-- -
'-


IZC


?r

Al
ri





HELEN'S NEW YEAR'S PARTY.


HELEN'S NEW YEAR'S PARTY.

,T was only the day before the party,
and Helen, who ought to have been
getting the playroom ready, was wan-
dering from the back parlor to the
music room, and back again, looking the pict-
ure of discomfort.
Seems to me you don't accomplish much,"
said her mother, glancing up from her sewing
as Helen turned from the window with a sigh.
Well, mamma, I can't settle to anything. I
never was in such bewilderment. I don't know
what to do with those children. It isn't as
though I was used to managing children. All
in the world I have to do with them is to teach
the lesson; and teaching a Sabbath-school les-
son to a child, and playing with him all the after-
noon, are two very different things. I should
never have undertaken such a task if I had not
depended on Emma, and now she has deserted
me. I think it is too mean for anything."
I think myself that Emma ought to be
ashamed of herself," said Mrs. Warner quietly.
" To have chosen this time, of all others, for
having the quinsy and deserting her post, is
something that I should suppose you would
find it hard to overlook."
Whereat Helen looked a little ashamed, and
laughed as she said, Of course, mamma, I
did not mean that it was she who had been
mean; I meant things. But you don't know
how I feel about it; I haven't the least idea
how to entertain those children, and in less
than twenty-four hours they will be here."
"Their supper will entertain them, dear."
O no, mamma! they can't eat supper for
three hours. Children dispose of that matter
without any delay. Besides, I want them to
have more than supper to remember when they
go to spend the afternoon with their Sabbath-
school teacher. Emma knew so many nice
games to teach them, and I don't know one. I
wonder if -
What she wondered will never be known, for
at that moment she took up a copy of Baby-
land, which the baby of the family had left
lying on the sofa, and opened to the two pages
which I show you.
The little brown sparrows flying around,"


and all the little fluttering fingers pictured out,
held her attention. Presently her troubled
face brightened, and after a few minutes she
spoke again in a changed tone:
O, mamma! I have such a bright idea.
There is the cunningest poem in Pet's Baby-
land, all pictured out. I believe I could teach
the children to sing and act it out, as they do
the Kindergarten plays, you know. They will
be so interested in learning it that it will make
the time pass rapidly."
How much I wish you could have attended
the party. I think it would, have been such a
pleasure to you to have seen twenty-seven little
bits of girls dressed in bright blues, and reds,
and golden browns, with gay ribbons fluttering,
as they formed a circle, and danced about the
room, now with their fingers moving swiftly,
keeping time to the music, as they personated
the "little brown sparrows" on the tree-tops
and on the ground. How funny the little
thumbs and fingers looked bent up to scatter
crumbs! And what a time they had getting
them bent to just the right angle! There was
cunning little Annie Swift who did not know
her fingers from her thumbs, and who asked a
dozen times, "Is this the wight fum?" until
the children shouted with glee. If they had
been getting ready for an exhibition, Helen
confessed afterward, that she could never have
taught them in the world, but since they were
only doing it for fun, it really was fun to them
all. When they made the nests for the birdies
they looked so cunning that Helen had to call
her mother to come and see how sweet they
were." When they reached the words : -

"For in the treetops amongg the gray boughs,
There is the sparrows' snug little house,'

and the little, hands and eyes were raised, the
hands keeping up the fluttering motion which
represented the flight of the sparrows, the eyes
seeming to peer into the trees to get the last
glimpse of the departing birdies, they really
were, as their teacher declared, almost too
cunning for anything!"
The children were delighted with this new
play, and after they had rested a few minutes,
begged to do it all over again just to see if
they remembered it. By the time they were






HELEN'S NEW YEAR'S PARTY.


tired again, to the great astonishment of their
hostess, supper was announced; and she found
that the "little brown sparrows" had flown
away with this afternoon which she had so
,much dreaded.
"Helen," said her mother, after the day was


and play their sparrow song for the Reading
Circle? It meets with me next week, you know.
Then you might take up a collection and get a
beginning for the primary library you want so
much."
At first Helen said she couldn't, that she


GETTING THE THUMBS AND VINGEBS BENT.

.done, and the- happy little human birds had never did such a thing, and Emma wouldn't be
flown to their homes, I have a bright idea; well enough to help. But she did wish she had
,what if you should have your children come the courage to undertake it; they needed a






THE CARTER BROTHERS.


library dreadfully, and the children were cer-
tainly very cunning.
I am pleased to be able to tell you that she
did get courage to do it, and that the children,
after a few rehearsals, did their parts beauti-
fully; and several of the gentlemen came in
time to see them, and to help in the collection.
So because of these little brown sparrows "


THE CARTER BROTHERS.

SDON'T know whether the name first
Suggested to them their business, but it
is certain that the Carter Brothers
owned together a nice hand-cart; and
as they lived in a small village where
there was no regular express, they had a very


MAKING THE NEST.

the children in their Sabbath-school will have a good business for young fellows who had their
new library next month. PANS.Y own way to make in the world, as well as a







THE CARTER BROTHERS.


mother and sister to support one of these days.
It is a little incident that occurred- just be-
fore New Year's about which I wish to tell you.
The brothers had been unusually busy all day;
it being the last day of the old year, a great
many people seemed to have been trying to
make up for lost time, and pushed into that
one day work that oight to have been done
weeks before.
No danger of the Carter Brothers complain-
ing, however, about the rush of business. On
the contrary, they were unusually glad.
It happened that a certain plan they had long
had in view, which had to do with the mother
And little sister, and which they meant to ac-
complish on New Year's morning, if possible,
Should take a great deal of money, and they
worked early and late to try to raise it.
One of their patrons had been a middle-aged
and rather irritable gentleman, who wanted a
large. trunk carried to a certain house, at just
such a minute. When, in answer to his ques-
tion, they explained that they were not in the
habit of carrying trunks up-stairs and unstrap-'
ping them, unless a special bargain was made
that they should do so, he answered, No, I'll
he bound you don't, nor then, either, if you can
help it. Well, mind you this, I make a special
bargain with you; this trunk is to be taken
up-stairs and set down between the two end
windows and unstrapped; here are five cents
more to pay you for doing it which I am a
fool for giving you. It is a carman's duty to
carry up trunks without extra pay."
The brothers exchanged smiles and said
nothing. One of the good lessons they had
learned in this business, was to keep their tem-
pers, in all sorts of trying circumstances.
When a half-hour later they reached the door
where the trunk was to be left, to all appear-
ance there was nobody at home. In vain they
rang the bell and pounded with their stout
fists, and ran around to the side door, and
stamped and whistled, and nobody came. They
-were in despair; the cart held still another
trunk which must reach the depot in time for
the eight o'clock train. Should they dump
this one on the piazza, and go off and leave it?
But in that case, what would become of their
promise ? And there was that extra five cents


which Joe, who was cashier, declared was
weighing down his pockets.
I'll tell you what it is," said Robert, listen-
ing to the stroke of a clock near at hand,
"we've got to do something very suddenly;
we've just fifteen minutes to make that train,
and it's quite a trip from here ; and there's the
trunk to check, besides. We'll have to dump
this, and come back to it afterward."'
At that particular instant a very sleepy-look-
ing girl slowly swung open the door. Both
boys talked at once, in their haste and desire
to make her understand. They must go now,
but would she leave the trunk in the hall, and
would she tell the gentleman that they would
be sure to come back, as -soon as the eight
o'clock train left, and carry it up-stairs?
She looks very stupid," said Joe, as the
door closed after them again; "I hope she
knows enough to do the errand."
She was tired, poor thing. The-family were
making ready for a grand New Year's dinner,
and she was the maid of all work. When the
thumping on the door began, she had just sat
down for the first time that day, and laid her
arms on the kitchen table, and her head on her
arms, and was asleep in a minute. No wonder
they had to pound before they could make her
hear; no wonder she did not understand. She
left the trunk in the hall because it was the
only thing she could do; but she had not a
word of explanation for the cross gentleman
when he arrived.
Apparently, he was very cross. He puffed,
and grumbled, and growled his way up-stairs,
dragging the trunk after him; declaring it was a
disgrace to humanity to be so imposed upon, and
by such youngsters, too, but that it was just ex-
actly what he had expected, and he had only.him-
self to blame for trusting them out of his sight.
The clock next door had sounded nine before
the cart and its owners drew up before the
door again. Such trials as they had i In the
first place the train was late, so was the woman
to whom the trunk belonged, and of course
they had to wait for her.
Then the man who appeared with her at last,
got them to hold his horse while he went away,
and stayed so long that they began to think he
too must have gone on the train.







THE CARTER BROTHERS.


Then, to crown all, the draw of the bridge
was open, and they could not get their cart
through. They halted in front of the door and
discussed the situation. i' No use to stop here
now," said Robert, "he has his trunk'between
those two windows long before this time. That
man isn't one of the waiting kind."
"A promise is a promise all the same," Joe
said sturdily. We left word that we would
get back the first minute we could, and we must
show him we are here. Besides, there is that
five cents."
Of course," said Robert, and he rang the
bell. There was no waiting this time; the same
girl opened the door, but she was wide awake.
"A pretty time of night to move a trunk! "
she assured them. "Of course it had gone up-
stairs long ago. The gentleman carried it up
himself. What else could he do, when there
were only women in the house? And a nice
opinion he has of you, too Catch him giving
you any more jobs! "
"But you told him how it was, didn't you?
If you hadn't been so long opening the door,
we should have had plenty of time before our
train." No, she had not told him a word about
it; she remembered it all now; but of what use
to tell those boys that she had not remembered
it at the right time?
Well," said Joe at last, turning with a little
sigh, there is no use in standing here, I sup-
pose. We are sorry about it, because we mean
always to do just as we say. It seems like a
bad way to close the old year, but I can't see
that we are to blame. There's the extra five
cents he gave us for carrying up the trunk, that
doesn't belong to us now. Can we get you to
give it to him?"
Land! said the girl, "what's the use of
being so particular ? "
But at that moment there was a heavy step
on the stair, and the owner of the trunk ap-
peared in sight. I'll take charge of the five
cents myself, and then it will be sure not to be
forgotten," he said with a severe look at the
girl. But she only giggled. It seemed to her
that these people were all making a good deal
of fuss about a very small matter. When the
boys were fairly on the street again, they looked
at one another in the moonlight and laughed.


"Our last job for the year," said Joe, "andi
a mean kind of a finish, somehow.".
"Besides, we can't carry out our plans."
"No, sir, we can't. We are five dollars short,
Nine dollars and ninety-five cents we have. If
the old fellow had let us keep the five cents to
pay for our good intentions, we would have had
even change, and lacked just five dollars."
Whereupon they both laughed again, and
turned the cart around, and went home. It
seemed a sort of relief to their feelings, to call
the trunk man "the old fellow."
It was a good plan they had for the New
Year, and it seemed hard to fail, although they-
had been pretty sure all the week of doing so.
They arose early on New Year's morning for.
the purpose of trying to decide whether they
would tell the mother and little sister about the
beautiful plan they had to carry out, or keep it
a profound secret for another year. They
stood on the steps of the front door, having
just finished a path through the snow to the
gate, still undecided what to'do, when the
trunk man appeared before them.
"Do you work on New Year's day?" he
asked abruptly.
"Yes, sir," said both boys in the same
breath.
"Very well, then you can call at the house
and get a box that will be in the hall, and take
it to the eleven o'clock train. And as I shall
not be there when you come, I will pay you
now. Twenty cents you charge, I suppose?'
Very well, you will find your pay in this
envelope."
He thrust the envelope into Joe's hand as he
spoke, and walked away, as though in great
haste. Joe tore the paper, and Robert who was
looking over his shoulder, gave vent to a shrill
whistle. There were two ten-cent pieces en-
closed. but there was also a bill. And in aF
plain round hand was written: "The twenty
cents are to pay for work, and the bill is a New
Year's token for two boys who know how to
keep their word."
"It is. five dollars!" said Joe under his
breath.
Said Rob, with his hand on his brother's
shoulder, "Joe, we can do it! "
MYRA SPAYFORD.





































Pr'


'*2~s.;.,.ci ..




,I
WAii

X'.
F IL.




,if -


THE CHOIR MARCHED OUT. (See Ben-Hadad's First Christmas.)





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.


ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

BY MAWAItET SIDNEY.

CIIAPTfER1 III.

'E goes away," said Joel Slocum again,
li with a long look into his sister's face.
1 lIiss Philcna drew her breath hard.
SOnce she unfolded her thin lips as if to
say ... i. 1Tlh,. then, thinking better of
it, shut them again, and a dead silence fell
between the two.
"I shall go over and make the necessary ar-
rangements with Barker to-day," observed Joel
after the pause had lasted so long that the tick-
ing of the old clock pursued them with a sense
of discomfort; "he's ready to take him any
time, only I didn't want to bind him over till
I'd given him more chances to behave himself
here. But the boy's beyond me; I can't man-
age him, I'm free to confess. And you--well,
Philena, you've taken away what little hope
there was of his being anything. He's just got
the upper hands of you. That's plain enough
to see."
"Are you going to bind that boy out to
Jedediah Barker? demanded Miss Philena in
a shrill gust, and starting forward in her chair
to fix her keen black eyes on the irritated face
before her. "What Mary's boy?"
"Indeed I am !" cried Joel flatly, and throw-
ing all the defiance possible to his nature up to
meet the black eyes, under whose steady gaze
he quailed inwardly. And it'll be the making
of the boy. Barker runs the best farm in the
county, and there the youngster will learn how
to work properly, and get some wholesome dis-
cipline, a thing he's never had here, to teach
him steady habits."
"You seem to forget that along with Jede-
diah Barker's reputation for the finest farm in
the country, has gone the other report of his
cruelty to his work-people, and his stingy, close
ways. If all is true that is told of him, it isn't
the place to trust a dog in, let alone a boy -
and our Mary's boy."
"You are forever harping on 'our Mary's
boy,' cried Joel sharply, and turning off on his.
heel to pace to the -window. "A boy is a boy,


whether he was Mary's or some other woman's.
And don't I know what's better for the proper
training of one than you. who've sat in the
chimney corner all your life and let things
go to rack and ruin, pray tell ? Rob isn't going
to be hurt over there to Barker's. The man
wouldn't dare to do him harm, seeing he's our
relation. And he will learn that life isn't made
up of lazy truckling to an uncle and aunt who
let him have his own head, because it's too
much trouble to do anything else with him. I
shall see Barker to-day."
He came back to stand in front of his sister.
When she-looked at him, she knew that it was
well to change her tactics. For once Joel
would do as he said.
"Who's going to do the work here?" she
asked, as if this were the chief obstacle to
providing a place for Rob.
I've got that all planned," said her brother,
with a triumphant laugh. "It's been all settled
for weeks that whenever I bound Rob out, I
should take one of Barker's boys that he hasn't
much use for."
"Oh! Miss Philena repressed the shiver
that came creeping over her. A cruel fate
seemed desperately near to. closing around
Rob. She must work quickly. Even as this
truth flashed through her, she experienced a
delightful thrill at the novelty of being called
upon for prompt executive action.
Well, if you've made up your mind to do
it," she managed to say carelessly, why, of
course you must, that's all. But remember, he
don't go to Barker's with my consent."
"All right. He goes without it, then," said
Joel, with an unpleasant laugh. And though
astonished at her quick relinquishing of Rob's
cause, he was "nevertheless gratified at the pros-
pect of losing the wordy entanglement that had
threatened him. And, manlike, as soon as every-
thing was made smooth for the quick execution
of his idea, lie began to think there was not so
much need to take the long drive that morning.
"I'll put you up a lunch," said his sister
presently, getting out of her chair. "You'll
be gone all day, I s'pose," and she disappeared
into the buttery.
I d'no as I shall go over there to-day, after
all," said Joel, going to the small window, and







ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.


squinting at the clouds. "It looks like rain.
It does rain now," as a few drops fell aslant
the little panes.
Miss Philena drew a long breath in her safe
corner behind the buttery door, and clasped
her hands. Providence was tender, after all,
and the boy might be saved.
"I shall drop a line to Barker and let him
know I am going to-morrow," said Joel, turning
off to the tall secretary in the corner. "After
all, that's best; but I'll go to-morrow, rain or no
rain, for I'm determined to have it over with."
"All right," said Miss Philena, coming out
of the buttery, "'then I'll do up my dishes."
"I'll have the lunch early in the morning,"
said Joel, hunting for a pen in the little drawer,
"for I shall be off in good time, so's to be home
before dark."
His sister vouchsafed no reply, but set up a
rattling among the breakfast things that showed
her mind intent on her morning work.
Uncle Joel, unaccustomed to letter-writing,
soon forgot, in the pangs- the present one was
causing him, the presence or absence of another,
and the kitchen had been deserted for a half-
hour or. so, when he looked around, and missing
his sister, called out, "Philena! say, Philena !"
"What do you want ?" said a voice in the
upper hall.
Where are you? he answered, not getting
out of his chair.
"Up-stairs doing my work. I'm going to
look over some things in the garret. May be up
there an hour. Do you want anything?"
"No," he called back. He had wanted to
ask her if there were two c's in necessary,
but reflecting that a woman was apt to be a
trifle tart when called from her feminine occupa-
tions, he concluded that it was better to risk the
spelling and let her alone. So he put in two
to be on the safe side, and escape the charge of
niggardliness with his letters.
"What in the name of sense she's doing
looking over things in that garret, passes me,"
he muttered. She's forever at it," which was
quite true. Miss Slocum, missing much of the
enjoyment that falls to other women, found it
in the excitement of living in the past, always
produced by a temporary sojourn among the
battered hats, unused garments and old furni-


ture of a by-gone generation, reposing in the
garret of the homestead. So as she was going
to be up there, Joel dismissed her from his
thoughts, and his letter being at last completed,
he went out to proceed to the village centre to
post it.
Miss Philena watched him from the cob-
webbed garret window, and throwing down the
moth -eaten pantaloons she was examining,
seized a small leather bag she had laid carefully
on the lid of the chest from which she had
drawn it, and hurried over the stairs and out to
the barn.
Rob," she said, with a short metallic click
to each syllable, "you mustn't ask any questions,
because there isn't any time to answer them.
I'll tell you everything you need to- know.
Your uncle is going to bind you out to-morrow
to Jedediah Barker unless I save you.' But I
can't unless you do exactly as I tell you." She
laid her hand on his arm now.
"Hush! don't speak," as he straightened up,
the axe with which he was chopping the gnarled
sticks falling to his side, every minute is
precious. He may be home soon. Listen!
You run right up garret as quick as you can.
There's a pair of pantaloons lying on the chest
by the window. They were your uncle's when
he was your size. I meant to give 'em to you
before, but he thought you better wait awhile.
Get into 'em as fast .as you can and put on
your Sunday jacket, then come to me."
Rob, with wide eyes, sprang off, and was soon
back, throwing on the coat as he ran, although
it seemed an age to Miss Philena, sitting on an
old log with her gray woollen skirt picked up
around her.
"Now, Rob," she said, getting up as he
dashed into the old barn, "you are to go to
Mary Ellis' over in Netting, you understand,
and give her this note." Miss Philena picked
it out of her gray woollen waist and set it
within the brown hand. You must do exactly
as she tells you in everything. I don't tell you
what you are going to do, or where you are
going, remember, but whatever she says will be
right. Your part is just to obey. Now, here,"
she drew out of her ample pocket the leather
bag and thrust it into his hand. "I can't stop
to sew it into your clothes, because I'm afraid






BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


he'll be home, but Mary will do it for you.
It's money; be careful of it."
Money! ejaculated Rob, his eyes starting
out. He had never held money in his life, ex-
cept a few cents at a time, when entrusted with
an errand at the baker's or grocer's. And this
bag seemed quite heavy.
Hush! warned his aunt, her finger on her
lips ; don't speak, but go, and God bless you!"
With a sudden movement, she laid her angu-
lar hand on the boy's thick crop of brown hair.
"Don't you ever do a thing you wouldn't have
wished your mother to know."
Rob set on his well-worn cap with an unsteady
hand, then looked up at his aunt. I should
like to kiss you," he said; "I never have, you
know."


IjI ,' -

'J A''


" BACK TO HERl MOTHER'S NEGRO CAB


For answer Aunt Philena's long arms sud-
denly gathered him up, then as abruptly she
pushed him off. Go!" and she disappeared
within the house.
Rob heard with dazed ears the shuffling tread
of his uncle coming down the road, and slipping
the bag into his pocket, he skulked out of the
back door, being careful to keep within the
shadow of the barn till a friendly thicket
received him from view.


BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

PART II.

FTER that the choir marched out,
singing as they went, and Ben-Hadad,
tuning to give a good-by look to the
Madonna and the Child, went out, too.
On the way home he kept his eyes
open, as he had promised to do, for some un-
comfortable person to invite to his Christmas
feast. Just as he was turning the last corner,
he came upon a little colored girl, a ragged
shawl wrapped about her, leaning against a
stone wall, right in the snow, and fast asleep.
She must be having pleasant dreams, Ben-Hadad
thought, for she was smiling in a way that did
not seem to indicate that
she was uncomfortable.
But she must be
awfully cold," said Ben,
and she will freeze if
she stays- there asleep.
I think," he added re-
S flectively, "that she is
one of the 'least.' Any-
1 how, I'm going to wake
her up."
This was no sooner
Said than done. The
__ girl, roused from her
slumber, sleepily cried,
"Heah you, Jawge
Washin'ton!"
Ben Hadad laughed.
I'm not George Wash-
ington," he said, and the
darky, noticing the
IN." strange voice, opened her
eyes and stared at him.
"It is cold," he said. "If you, stay here
asleep, you will freeze. Haven't you any place
to stay?"
The girl nodded and arose slowly. "I
reckon I kin fin' a bar'l, or I kin get took up,
nohow."
Ben-Hadad, not being acquainted with that
class of people whose comfort while sleeping
depends upon their being "took up" by a
policeman for vagrancy, did not understand


E- 9
I \*







BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


the girl's plan of lodging in the lock-up, and
was satisfied.
Look here he said, "are you uncomfort-
able ?"
His new acquaintance laughed. "Dishyeah
niggah," she observed, don't git much else."
Without attempting to parse her sentence,
Ben-Hadad resolved that she was eligible to- a
place at his feast, and proceeded,-
Do you know to-morrow is Christmas ?"
"I reckon."
"How are you going to celebrate ?"
"Do' know."
Well, if you want something to eat, and a
chance to get warm, you come around to my
house at six o'clock to-morrow evening to a
Christmas party. Will you ?"
His acquaintance was grinning now, having
gotten over her astonishment sufficiently during
the early part of his, invitation.
"Dishyeah niggah will be dere, ef she ain't
dead nor froze." And Ben-Hadad taking this
as an assurance that she" would be happy to
accept," pointed out his home, and then made
all speed for it, for Mother Hadad was at the
door, lamp in hand, looking anxiously up the
street for him.
"Mother," he said, "I've got my other one;
and such singing as I heard! It sounded like
the angels' song, only it wasn't 'Good-will
toward men.'"
It is all good-will toward men," said Mother
Hadad, as she bent over and kissed his forehead,
"whatever belongs to Christmas. That is what
our party is going to be."
Christmas morning dawned beautiful and
bright, although the air was still very cold, and
the snow had not melted at all. Before the
sun had had time to warm the air, or to make
the little icicles drop their tears of disgust on
the pavement, Ben-Hadad had gone around to
get Mr. Sanborn's Christmas present. And
lo! it had turned out to be a turkey instead of
a chicken, all dressed and stuffed, and some
apple-pies and doughnuts! How splendid this
would be, thought the young host, for their
party. For although he had hung up his
stocking with success, and had received some
delightful Christmas presents, nothing gave him
so much pleasure as the thought of the coming


feast. Uncle Flatiron had been invited and
had gruffly consented to come. Ben-Hadad
feared only that his dark-skinned guest would
not be there.
"You will have to go out in the highways
and hedges for a substitute," said Mother
Hadad, "if she doesn't, but I have no doubt
she will appear."
Mother," said Bennie, "the birds are here
again, and they look hungrier than they did
yesterday."
Mother Hadad came to the window to look
at the five little sparrows who were huddled
together on one limb of the lonesome tree.
"Poor things!" she said; "they are uncLC-
fortable."
This gave Ben-Hadad an idea.
"0, mother! mayn't I invite them to my
party ? "
Mother Hadad laughed her little laugh that
reminded one of the ripple of a shady brook;
one that could come from smooth water, but
from dashing against little stones.
"Yes," she said. "Only they will be asleep
by the time it begins. You will have to give
them a special course beforehand. They are
thinking of starting for a warm place now, to
judge from their looks."
Then I will have to hurry and invite them,"
said Ben-Hadad. "I will give them bread-
crumbs and cake-crumbs, too, seeing it's the
party. They can't have as much of a variety
as the rest, can they? Do you suppose they
would like some turkey, mother?"
"I don't think you would better try them,"
said Mother Hadad, smiling. "They will be
perfectly satisfied with a simple bill of fare."
When the birds had been to their party,
which they attended gratefully, and had eaten
their crumbs quickly and silently, not talking
about them at all, and had flown away; when
the stars had begun to peep out just a little,
bashfully, and some stray snowflakes were
straggling around, looking for a place to spend
the night, Ben-Hadad stood at the window, and
opening it a little, put his head out to look for
his guests.
"Mother," he said, not drawing it in as he
spoke, "I wish I could have a Christmas plum-
pudding for our party."






BEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


You do?" asked a deep voice right at his
ear, and turning with a start, his eyes met the
twinkling ones of a young gentleman in a big
overcoat, just going around the corner, with his
arms full of bundles.
You do?" the voice repeated. And
what do you want of a plum-pudding?"
Ben-Hadad looked embarrassed. "I was
speaking to mother," he said. "But I wanted
the pudding for our party."
"Do you usually put your head out of the
window when you want to speak- to your
mother? What kind of a party are you going
to have? Who are coming? And what do
you want of a plum-pudding?"
Bei-:Tadad could not help looking astonished
at the man who asked so many questions, and
thought he was a little impolite, but answered
meekly: -
It is a Christmas party, sir, and only Uncle
Flatiron and a colored girl are coming. They-
are two of the 'least,' you know the most
disagreeable and the most uncomfortable persons
that I know. And I only wanted a plum-pud-
ding because they most always have them on
Christmas."
The man with the big overcoat seemed very
much interested. He laid his packages on the
window-sill, and asked questions about Uncle
Flatiron and the colored girl, and why they
had been invited, and what they were going to
have to eat. When Ben-Hadad told about the
bird's party, he laughed very loud.
"Well," he said, "that is quite an idea. If
I come around and call, when you have had
supper, will you mind ?"
Oh! no, indeed," said Ben-Hadad, trying
to think whether there would be chairs enough
in the parlor. Just then his mother came into
the room.
Ben-Hadad," she said severely, "have you
left that window open all this time? What
are you doing?"
"I am talking to a man with a big overcoat,
that is asking me questions about the party.
He" -
"Well, good-night," said the man. "A
merry Christmas to you! Perhaps I'll come
around."
"It is right in you to be civil to strangers,"


said Mother Iadad, but rot to keep the win-
dow open and make the room cold."
Very soon afterward Uncle Flatiron came,
and a little later Ben-Hadad's dusky guest, in a
brilliant costume of a red shawl and a yellow
turban, both of which appeared to have been
picked out of an ash-heap, and bore the marks
of their late residence. While the guests were
being seated and made comfortable, there came
a knock at the front door, and a man who had
just jumped out of a cart and wanted to get
back to it, handed Ben-Hadad a package, and
saying only, Paid! hurried away. Mother.
Hadad opened the parcel out on the table, and
behold it contained an English plum-pudding,
piping hot, just from the bakery. On it was a
card, saying in fine hand writing: -

FOR THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

From
The "Man with t ie Big Overcoat."

My story is already too long, and if I would,
1 could not tell you all about that party. To
say that none of those present had ever at-
tended such a unique gathering before, would be
little. To say that none of them had ever had
such a good time before, would be but part- of
the truth. To be sure, Uncle Flatiron growled
a great deal, but that was only to be expected,
and. the unbounded delight of Sa'Yan," as the
colored girl had introduced herself, who cared
to do little but sit in a corner by the fire and
grin, made up for all lack of good-feeling on the
part of any one else. The turkey and the
cranberries and the apple-pie and the dough-
nuts and the plum-pudding all seemed to do
their very best to be good for Ben-Hadad's
Christmas feast, and Uncle Flatiron and Sa'Yan
both did their part to dispose of them. Candy
and nuts were passed around, and then Father
Hadad, who had been as much surprised as
anybody at the party, played checkers with
Uncle Flatiron, because then the old man did
not have to try to hear anything, and Mother
Hadad sat down and talked to Sa'Yan, and
Ben-Hadad flitted about with a beaming face,
the happiest one of the company, smiling on
all the rest.
Just as a game of checkers was finished, and







SBEN-HADAD'S FIRST CHRISTMAS.


there was a lull in the conversation, there came
another knock at the door; when it was opened,
who should stand there but the Man with the
Big Overcoat, and leaning on his arm a beauti-
ful lady, whom he introduced to Mother Hadad
as his sister, saying they had come to make a
call on "the party," to wish them a merry
Christmas !
Mother Hadad showed them chairs, and Ben-
Hadad told how much obliged they were for
the plum-pudding, but right in the middle of
one of his sentences he stopped, for he had
been looking at the sister of the Man with the
Big Overcoat, and had discovered that she was
the lady who had sung in the church the night
before! Then Uncle Flatiron was heard growl-
ing because nobody would talk so he could
hear.
The young man went over and talked with
him, roaring so loud that the rest of them could
hardly hear themselves think; but Uncle Flat-
iron became almost good-natured.
Pretty soon the Man with the Big Overcoat
suggested that they should have some music,
and asked his sister to sing for them. Then
how gladly Ben-Hadad's heart beat! He hoped
she would sing what she had the night before.
As she arose, he listened eagerly for the first
words.
They were these: -

0 little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by."

How glad he was that he had the beautiful
singer to sing at his party!
Then the Man with the Big Overcoat asked
Sa'Yan what she could sing; she said "Glory,
Hallelujah! ". He said that was about all he
could sing, and started it. How the old words
rang through the air For the young man sang-
as 1Iud as lie could, and his sister sang, and
Father and Mother Iadad sang, and Sa'Yan
thought she was back in her mother's negro
cabin, and rocked back and forth in the chair
by the fire, her turban and eyes gleaming in
the weird light. In fact they all sang except
Uncle Flatiron, and he growled quite a pleas-


ant growl; so much pleasanter than any he
had growled for a long time that the angels
who were listening, I think, counted him as
singing, too.
Then the Man with the Big Overcoat said he
had a big sleigh around the corner, and would
respectfully invite the party-to take a Christ-
mas sleigh-ride. Everybody said Yes. When
they had wrapped themselves up the sleigh was
at the door, and they all piled in, and were tucked
in by fur robes. The Man with the Big Over-
coat sat on the front seat with his sister, and
next came Mother Hadad and Sa'Yan, and be-
hind, Father Hadad and Uncle Flatiron, with
Ben-Hadad between them.
It was a beautiful night. The stars had all
come out bravely now, although they were
quite outshone by the full moon. And the
snow was so crisp and hard, and the sleigh
went so smooth and fast behind the big horses,
and the bells jingled so merrily! And I record
it now, for the interest of future generations,
that during the entire ride, Uncle Flatiron gave
not one single growl!
Back again at the Hadads' home, the Man
with the Big Overcoat took Ben-Hadad aside
and showed him a warm shawl, and an overcoat
almost as big as his, that he wanted him to
present, one to Sa'Yan, the other to Uncle
Flatiron, in the name of The Party. Then he
and his sister started to leave, but Father
Hadad motioned them back, and rose.
It is growing late," he said (this was a mild
way of putting it! Didn't he know it had
been growing late all the time?), "and the
party must break up. We hope you have had
a pleasant time; we thank those who haye
tried to make it more pleasant, and have so
well succeeded. We trust you have all had a
very merry Christmas, and wish you a very
happy New Year."
That was a long speech for Father Hadad to
make. If Ben-Hadad had not insisted upon it,
I do not think he would have made it. The-
young host sat over by his mother, still smiling
on every one.
'"Mother," he whispered, "hasn't it been
nice? Don't you think it has been a real good-
will-toward-men party ?"
"Listen," said his mother, for answer. For






HUNGRY VISITORS.


the Man with the Big Overcoat was standing
up to speak.
I want to thank you all," said he, for the
way in which my sister and I have been re-
ceived at the party, and to say a word about
how nearly I think it has succeeded in being a
true Christmas one. For the real spirit of
Cl(i ;ii I. is that of the angels' song, Glory to
God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will
toward men.' If I am not mistaken that has been
what your hosts have been trying to make this.
Whoever shows love for the poorest of men
gives glory to God, for His Son has said, In-
asmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.'
Whatever makes them less unhappy is more of
His peace on earth; whoever does them a kind-
ness is working out that for which the Star
shone, the angels sang, the Christ-child came


- good-will toward men. So let us go out to-
night with the idea that we will make the com-
ing New Year a Christmas one, in that we shall
live in the spirit of this wonderful day.
And now in bidding you good-by, let me
repeat what my sister has sung to you:-

"No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in.
Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to thee
Son of the Mother mild,
Where Charity stands watching,
And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more."
PARANETE.


HUNGRY VISITORS.

























- I ,* i


AN f1PUHE.



"~U JDI PL'SIIED."






HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


HEIR MOTHER'S BIBLE.

BY PANSY.

IF ANY iMAN IIAT'1I .lirS TO HllAR, LET ITII IhEAR.
(GO 111,a1' TO THiY FRIllEND.S, AND TELL TIHE1M 110W GREAT
TIIIN CO IMPA.SSI ON ) 1 'lIl,:II.
BHE NOT AF' AIDi, uN IY inLIEVI..
AN '1111'Y WENT OUT AND PI'HIEAC1EI) THIIAT MN SIOVULD


HO! said Ralph, pausing over a verse
that was heavily marked with blue ink,
" this is a little bit of a fellow, and it doesn't
seem to say anything. Grandma marked it,
though, as if she thought it was made of gold."
"What is the verse?" Mrs. Selmser asked,
with a somewhat unsteady voice; there came
to her just then a memory of her dear old
mother bending over the golden verses, getting
wealth from them; and it made her heart ache
so for a sight of the mother's face, that it
seemed for a few minutes as though she could
not wait any longer.
"It is Be-not-afraid-only-believe," said Ralph,
running the words together as though they were
one, and making only a comma at the close.
Why, that is a lovely verse, I am sure."
"Well, it doesn't say anything; doesn't finish,
you know. What is a fellow to believe?"
A boy who belongs to the Lord can use the
verse in a great many ways. I heard a-minis-
ter say once it was a blank check, ready to use
for any sum that was needed. Believe that God
will take care of you anywhere, no matter what
happens. Don't you see?"
Y-e-s'-m," Ralph said, with a slow drawl,
" but then I don't understand such wholesale
verses very well; it's short, though, and I'm
going to take it for mine."
All day long he didn't give the verse a
thought. lie was busy in school, and at home,
and was bright and happy; whistling most of
the time when alone, and forgetting that there
was such a thing as trouble in the world, or that
he had occasion for anybody's help. However,
he succeeded -in offending three boys younger
than himself who were generally in mischief of
some sort. They planned a bit of mischief for
this particular day, which Ralph discovered in
time, and spoiled. They were very angry


about it, and promised to be even with him."
Ralph laughed, and whistled, and wondered
what the chaps thought they could do.
By dark he found out.
It was Ralph's duty to close the windows of
the schoolrooms, after they had been swept and
dusted, see that all was in order for the night,
and close the heavy doors that locked with
spring locks. He was whistling through the
hall, attending to his work, just as twilight was
falling; the sweeper had been delayed, and it
was later than usual. Three empty coal hods
stood by the door of the coal cellar. Ralph
swung them all over his arm, it being his duty
to leave them in the cellar. First he took the
precaution to fasten back the heavy outside
door lest a gust of wind might blow it shut. It
fastened with a chain and hasp, so no wind
could possibly loosen it; then he went swiftly'
down the steep stairs, whistling, "See the. con-
quering hero comes."
"No, he doesn't! murmured a low voice
outside. "He goes; but he doesn't 'come' so
quickly as he thinks. Now, Jim, is your time;
swing to the door; there's nobody in sight."
And Jim pushed, keeping Rob back with one
hand, lest he should rattle the chain and give
Ralph warning in time to escape.
The door closed with a dull thud that stopped
the whistling below. Ralph was just ready to
spring up the steps into daylight again. The
minute he heard that thud, he knew that he
was a prisoner; though how the door hbad got-
ten loose he could not imagine. It wasn't a
pleasant prospect for a boy, this being shut
into a great dark cellar, with stone walls and
rats for company; feeling pretty certain that
the long night would have to wear away, and
perhaps a great part of the next day before he
would be discovered.
In fact it might be several days; for he re-
membered with sudden terror that it was Fri-
day night, and the cellar need not be entered
again, probably would not be until Monday.
What should he do? Which way turn?
Would it be possible for him to live in that
damp, dark spot until he was found ? Could he
hope to make noise enough to attract the atten-
tion of any passer-by? But that was folly;
the building stood back from the road, in the







HER MOTHER'S BIBLE.


e of l.ir-e r. .iitds, and the cellar was at
ack I '' rt .f tii.. building.
v -1., thl- .,ii1 ti hre, sitting on the lowest
S of tb,.- i-ll.r -t irs, with his elbows on his
Hs, nu- Lhi- i,..il in his hands, that Ralph
Iiot ,..1,i oi thLi marked verse: "Be not
Lid, .:.'il i,.-,l He was afraid; he
ee.l it t-.., iji-.lf. Vere the words for him?
SL oni' k,:'. u Iha to believe!. He wished
al t ll:.] I.. .. r with his mother about it.
'i;l 1 .-i;.- o tlie great God, and wanted
r'I I,- ..- iiiw. But was he expected to
eie,, ihrii. o_..1 i ...ld plan some way to get
Sii' ',,,it ..t il.i o:.llar that night? "How
uldl II. !" -I .ii p.....r Ralph to himself. "No-
;.i 'odyil ..ini:', .-. I -,, Ibuildings nights, let alone
,;'.le i.-:'. I r. I i-1 g ot to stay here,of course;
"'.:u 'but, U .lir, i- 'ii. adful! what will mother
": 1t-.hiuk '. Ti'.: \~, i ll be scared; and they won't
o .''.-- u hei i. -.. k .:.r me, because I ran home,
r .'bet i ,.. !t hi 1, i.- I was waiting for the dust-
.'.- .i I .li.li'i t-ll them I'd got to go back
t,,. ,:,..l-,,i They will think I'm in the
ier .r,, t,.:i'll Lo- to dragging it and have
n .i\ n rtin- : .ii,1 lhre I am in this dreadful
-eli ir! 1.. ,.i '! I a Lsh I knew what to believe."
Ill- l ..'.i.. .- \ .:. seemed to sound in his
ir: l!;-i ,..0 th li G4od will take care of you
ry.\ L: i.- no i:tii. r what happens." Those
-ir- tl.- v.l- s- w- .i.1 she said. Did he believe
:-t1 If hie- di.1, ... I was he afraid? A few
: -'lii.i .r,.- ,.-,:.1, \.bich seemed like hours to
L'.R ::-.l|, ii i-.: r l.,wn on the coal grimed
l:.'' .r a.d l rayt-.1 lthi prayer:-
'. ~ D .:.r I.:r, I' in in awful trouble; I never
-. i.. ,.-:~.. -, I.Ut th!i- is awful! I can't help
.e I'" -i :if id. But I believe in Thy power
j )7 t_ I,.l.' w. i.ite ,t., even here. 0, Lord! take
c.re-' f ime, anril ..:nifort mother, for Jesus'
s:ke. Ainii !"
oJil will .,tii.- that his faith was not strong
enolillh t.o ai.-y to. I let out of the cellar. He
..- iiev:. th.it tr: I- -i.-h an exceedinglyimprob-
tbl- tLing ;,Q to I:.: .Ilnmost impossible.
Y,>t, ras b..- f..i -I!I.:- minutes dragged along,
ibe beL-lrd a .,:ilnd, aii.l started up and listened
n tior hiio life. Was it rats? No,it came from
ove\riL.:.l. W.is it burglars? Then would
l. ..y .:ni. tio- : -.-liir, and finding him, kill
hiu '? TLhe c ill sweat stood in great drops on


the poor boy's face. The heavy door was cer-
tainly being tampered with; he heard the
grating of a key in the lock; he heard it slowly
swing back on its hinges; he saw the glimmer
of a lantern. Should he try to hide? No, he
wouldn't; instead, le almost laughed aloud in
his sudden relief. The tall form of Professor
Fordham was coming down the stairs.
It's only me, Professor," he shouted, as the
startled gentleman paused half-way down; "it's
only me, Ralph Selmser. I got shut in; but
how came you to come and let me out?"
"What does all this mean?" said the Pro-
fessor, setting down his lantern. Then there
were explanations to make. When Ralph had
told as much as he knew of his own story,
Professor Fordham said he had been called to
the coal cellar to look at a flue that the janitor
thought needed attention; that he had stooped
down on his hands and knees to examine it, and
that when he reached home he missed a pocket-
book that was filled with important papers;
not finding it anywhere else, he had thought of
the coal cellar, and came at once to look for it.
And Ralph, as he hunted about by the light
of the lantern, and finally picked up the lost
book, said in an awe-stricken tone: "How easy
He did it! And I thought He couldn't!"
"Did what, my boy?" asked the Professor.
Then Ralph's pale face flushed a little, as he
said, "I was just thinking out loud, Professor.
You see I thought the Lord would take care of
me here, all night, but I didn't believe he could
plan any way to let me out, before morning,
anyhow, and he did it just as easy! Mother
will think that it all came about through Grand-
mother's verses; and maybe it did. I'm afraid
mother is awfully scared. What time is it,
Professor Fordham ?"
"A little after six ;" said the Professor, and
Ralph in great astonishment owned that he
thought it was about midnight.
Then they walked home; but I believe you
will be glad to hear that Professor Fordham
said, when he left Ralph, "We must look into
this matter. Doors that are chained back don't
close without hands. I saw three boys skulking
about where they ought not to be, and have
my suspicions; -to-morrow we will see what we
can discover."






BABY'S CO RNER.
THE NEWS.

ONCE there was a little woman made of paper.
She lived in a little house made of paper too.
H, er name was Mrs. By.
SShe went down the hill one stormy day to get a ', l' ''.
i/ ,].l.. pail of water. '
The sky was '-j dark and L-d--
the wind blew very hard. The pump was a long way off.
As she was going along she met Mrs. Pry. She was a tall woman.
"Have you heard the news?" said Mrs. Pry.
MFt' < Ky "No, what is it?" said Mrs. By.
; '. Just then Mrs. Ky opened the door of her little house
and came out. She was a fat woman.
"Have you heard the news? said Mrs. By.
"g.. No," said Mrs. Ky. "What is it?"
Then along' came Mrs. Wry. f Ts
"Have you heard the news?" Wry said Mrs.. Ky.
"No. What is it?" said Mrs. Wry.
Then Mrs. Fy looked out of her .. window aud saw them all, so she
ran out. She was a teeny weeny i woman.
"Have you heard the news?" ^ ,a' said Mrs. Wry.
"No. What is it? said Mrs. Fy. Then Mrs. By, and Mrs. Ky, and Mrs. Wry, and Mrs. Fy
opened their mouths wide and said : What is it? What is it? What is it? What is it ?"





r4 11,[ ,-.


"Will you never tell anybody?" said Mrs. Pry. Then the little paper women all spoke to-
gether. Theysaid: "No! No! No! No!"
"Well, I'll tell you," said Mrs. Pry. They say"- But just then there came a big wind and
blew them all away! So they never heard the news. Mas. C. M. LiviNGSToN.






TWO DISCIPLES.


TWO DISCIPLES.

LAT on the floor lay Rossie, one arm
around Pedro's neck, the other leaning
on the open Bible. This was Rossie's
favorite position for studying his Sun-
day-school lesson.
'He had been over the story twice slowly.
He was not a rapid reader, but something
in the reading made him turn back and read
again: "He called unto Him the Twelve and
began to send them forth by two and two."
These were His disciples," said Rossie to
Pedro, who lifted his eyes and looked wise.
"I'd like to have been one of them-; I would
truly. Just think, Pedro, of being sent out by
Jesus It was so nice in him to send them to-
gether. It is easier to do things together."
He read on till he came to the verse:-- "And
they went out and preached that men should
repent." Then he stopped again. "That does
not sound like hard work," he said; "they
just walked along the streets; it is very differ-
ent from standing in a pulpit and reading off a
long sermon. I never could do that, I'd get so
awfully tired before I got done. I wish folks
preached that way now, just walk along the
streets telling people what to do."
I The studying and the thinking came to a
sudden close; somebody'was calling RossKe to
go to ride. Many things happened during the
day to make him forget the lesson; but at
night, when getting ready for bed, he thought
of it again. Mamma," he said, "I wish Jesus
sent out disciples nowadays two and two as he
used to."
"Why, He does," said Mrs. Harper, bending
over to unfasten his neck-tie.
Not just as He used to do; they stand up
in a pulpit and preach now; then they went
about telling people to repent."
"Much the same thing is going on to-day,
my boy; men and women working to get their
friends to turn away from the wrong road and
take the right one."
"And children, too, mamma?"
"Yes, indeed; many a child has been the
means of saving his father or mother."
"Well, I can't save you and papa, can I,
because you are saved ?"


Whiy, yes," said Mrs. Harper, smiling, we
hope we are safe in Jesus. But there are
plenty of people who are not, Rossie. If you
want to be a disciple, you need not fear but
that you will find people enough who need
help."
The idea had taken strong hold of Rossie.
He thought about it the first thing in the morn-


HARLEY.


ing, and while he was dressing resolved that
he would go directly after breakfast and get
his cousin Harley to be the other disciple.
"He's younger than I," said Rossie, "and he


--







,TWO DISCIPLES.


does not know much, of course; but then I can
teach him, and he is the only one I should like
to go with, and of course there ought to be
another, because they went out two by two.' "
The plan worked nicely. Harley being al-
ways willing to do just as his cousin wished, it
was arranged that they should start at once and
call on Uncle James Harlan who was the only
relative Rossie had who was not a In .i. i .i .
"IIe has not repented, I'm sure," said Itossie,
"because lie does not go to church Sundays
and sometimes he goes on a journey Sunday
morning. We will go straight to him. I'll ask
if we can see him; you tell him what we want,
because you are the littlest."
Truth to tell Rossie did not feel very well
acquainted with his uncle. They had lived in


Children ? It must be Rossie and Harley.
They may have been sent from home with a
message. Show them in, Weston." So the
two disciples were allowed to enter the office
from which several men had been sent away
that morning, disappointed because the lawyer
was too busy to see them.
Good morning," he said pleasantly; "you
.were sent on an errand, I suppose. Tell it
quickly like little men, for I'm in a great hurry
this morning." Thus urged, Rossie nudged
Harley's elbow and murmured Go on."
"We are 'sciples," began the little fellow.
"You are what?" said the astonished uncle.
"'Sciples. We come out two and two as
they did, and He sent us, Jesus did, you know,
just like the big men in the Bible, and we


ROSSIE.


the same city but a short time, and the busy
uncle had paid little attention to his small
nephew; so the boy was quite willing to let his
little cousin do the talking."
Into the private office of the lawyer pres-
ently came his clerk. "I did not know whether
to interrupt you or not," he said, as the lawyer
looked from his writing with a frown on his
face, "but there are two little f.11.. -; in the
hall who say you are their uncle and that they
want to see you on important business. -They
are quite young, and I thought perhaps"-
then he stopped, thinking it best to keep his
thoughts to himself.


want you to be good and not do it any more."
I suppose there never was a more amazed
lawyer. Then Uncle James looked sharply at
the little boys, but both were 1.i'-'i f i grave
and evidently meant business. He could see
that Rossie felt a good deal afraid, but Harley
had not thought of such a thing and kept his
grave sweet eye fixed on his uncle's face, wait-
ing for an answer.
"What is it I'm not to do any more ?" he
asked at last, because he did not know what
else to say.
What He does not want you to do !" said
Harley, opening his eyes i l as though he






TWO BOYS.
I~


thought it a strange thing his uncle should not
know without asking. "People who love H-im
try to be good and not do things any more that
He does not like. I used to open the gate and
run away," said Harley respectfully, "but I
don't now because He does not want me to.
Do you ever open the gate and run away?"
Sometimes," said the lawyer dryly, a strange
smile playing over his face.
"Then you must not. That's what He wanted
us to say to you: Jesus did, you know, He sent
us."
"Very well," said the lawyer again after
another thoughtful pause. "You have done
your work well; good-by."
Good-by," said Harley, perfectly satisfied;
and both boys turned to the door.
"He did not say he would not," said Rossie.
Course he won't," said Harley, who still had
the faith of a little child, "now he knows that
Jesus does not want him to."
If they had been in the lawyer's office ten
minutes afterward, they would have seen him,
after reading over carefully the letter he had
been writing, tear it into bits and begin again.
The second letter was different from the first
and but for the visit of those disciples, the first
fetter would have gone.
Late that evening the lawyer-uncle wrote
another letter. This is what he said:
DEAS MOTHER:
My small nephew says he used to open the. gate and run
away, but he does not do it any more. He seems to think I
have done the same. You will know what I mean, whether
Harley would or not, when I tell you I'm afraid I've run a long
way from home. Will it comfort your heart if I tell you
I've determined to run back and close the gate behind me?
The two disciples never knew about that let-
ter and the joy that came through it to their
grandmother's heart. Jesus knows all about it.
PANSY.

TWO BOYS.

T WO boys who once grew up together,
Grew up in the same old town,
But one is now a scapegrace, rather,
And one has gained renown.
Two boys who started out in living,
Each in a different way,
And differently took the world's free giving,
And so they are different to-day.


Jack, he had a widowed mother,
And Dick was a rich man's boy;
Jack had always his wishes to smother,
While Dick had every joy.
Jack earned his own bread and butter,
And part of his mother's, too;
And.often the wish was heard to utter,
That he had more work to do.
Jack got out at the elbows often,
Grew too fast for his clothes;
Had but little his lot to soften,
But his cheeks were red as a rose.
Dick wore clothes of the finest order,
Nothing he seemed to lack;
Always a father, a careful warder,
To keep all hardness back.

One studied hard to go through college,
No hinderance the other knew;
One found thorny the way to knowledge,
The other was pushed right through. [faded,
One's muscles grew flabby, and cheek grew
One grew stout and strong,
As bravely and proudly and all unaided,
He wrestled his way along.
Now, to-day in the i ,l, of the nation
Is heard Jack's powerful voice;
And Jack in his proud and lofty station,
Does something but make a noise.
For he labors well among his peers -
None ever asks if he
Had enough to eat in the long-gone years-
If his pants were out at the knee.

Dick, and oh! how I hate to tell it,
He is a poor weak thing.
He'd a heritage, but he had to sell it,
Just a living to bring.
Only a cumberer, not one needed,
In all the world's great strife,
A man who is scarcely ever needed -
That's what he's done with life.
Works a little, drinks strong liquor,
His children cry for bread
And he's travelling down, and daily quicker,
Down to a drunkard's bed ;
Life pampered one and strengthened the other.
It is good to bear the yoke,"
Honorable Jack tells every brother;
Word truer he never spoke.

Hard are the blows which shape to beauty
The marble cold and white,
And rough is the poor boy's path of duty,
If it leads to a golden height.
So all you Jacks keep on your trying,
Trying and trying again -
Rich and poor with each other vying,
As often the poor will win. E. B. S.









TWO BOYS.


JACK AND D RK.





















9W. z -
.,








9. ,
. -1







L-L LL _




L-N-K









HELEBN KELLER.






A TALK ABOUT HELEN KELLER.


A TALK ABOUT HELEN KELLER.

THINK that many of you have heard
of little Helen Keller, the child who is
deaf, dumb and blind. When she was
nineteen months old she was deprived
of these senses by a severe illness.
She was born in Tuscumbia, Alabama, on a
large plantation. Here she lived happily with
her dolls and her pets until she grew older,




k at c k .6z J r J

L 'i n E to I

-unic.ateit he e role about he r.

nL Ei/fC ^ -n a r tU'Z pr d '


C z I (
f^ P sd j. a r E hz F


L9 s1o 'n Z Z (1 i J1




m c wit h th p l a o er .- u
0. J 4 ,







c ah L -t -c^r ^'L L r E

Lq T iF L J L i J








FAC-SIMILE (REDUCED) OF FIRST LETTER BY HIELE3

when she longed to know what these and other
objects were really like, and to be able to com-
municate with the people about her.


Yearning to express herself and to under-
stand what was a complete mystery to her, she
grew very unhappy and impatient. Her anxious
father wrote to Mr. Anagnos, of the Perkins
Institution in South Boston, Mass., to know if he
could send a teacher to his poor little girl. Mr.
Anagnos was deeply interested in the case and
sent a kind lady who had herself been partially
blind and who had been in the habit of com-
municating with Laura Bridgman. Miss Sulli-
van was to undertake the
child's entire education, and
(- R, e thinking that it would be better
^ih ~ to have Helen as quiet as possi-
ble, she decided to occupy a
small house on the grounds,
attended by two servants.
She commenced by making
friends with her little pupil.
S 0 Any one who sees Helen will
know that this could not have
been a very difficult task, as
she is a most affectionate child.
The first lesson was about a
new doll. Helen soon learned
the deaf and dumb alphabet
with one hand, by means of
various objects and gestures,
An object was given to her,
and then its name spelled out
i "- t. on the palm of her hand, so
P that she was taught to asso-
ciate the said object with its
correct name. She was de-
Slighted to find that everything
Could be indicated by a given
name.
L 44 You can find the alphabet in
I, the back part of any large dic-
L 5s tionary. Try it and see how
uo t this little girl was obliged to
talk. She received the new
S5 ideas so eagerly that within a
few months she made the most
rapid progress, learning to un-
ELLER. derstand and to spell correctly
S KELLER.
several hundred words.
She learned to recognize, by feeling of their
hands and clothes, every one about her, and
rarely did she forget an acquaintance or his





A TALK ABOUT HELEN KELLER.


name, which she would instantly spell out by
her fingers. Helen once more played content-
edly with other little girls and her playthings.
She was now as blithe as any of the children.
Indeed it would have been quite difficult to say
which child was blind, so quickly she learned to
take care of herself. She was able to play
" tag," learning by the vibration of the ground
which direction she must run, holding her arms
outstretched before her. She was almost un-
conscious of her misfortune, not knowing until
recently she was different from other children.
Miss Sullivan now wished Helen to come
North, and although Captain and Mrs. Keller
were grieved to part with their little daughter,
they sent her to South Boston, where she could
have the advantage of studying in the Perkins
Institution. Here she learned by the use of
raised maps and -books, which could not be
procured at home.
Helen was bewildered when she found that
so many others talked with their fingers as she
did. She was told that they too were blind.
This distressed her very much and she cried
because they were unable to see the trees and
the bright flowers, and all the beautiful things
that her teacher had told her about, but not
because she was not able to see them herself.
Helen was taught French. She had one ad-
vantage, that is she did not have to pronounce it.
She was also taught Greek, for Mr. Anagnos,
who is a Greek, took great pleasure in teaching
her his language. Her mind is wonderfully
brilliant. Just thinkhow much she has learned
in a year Helen is only eight years old and
has been studying a little over twelve months.
Perhaps it will give you a better idea of
Helen if I write about her visit to us. When
she arrived she felt us eagerly- our faces, hands,
and clothing. After this she knew each mem-
ber-of the family. She was delighted with the
little children, kissing them or patting them
from time to time. At lunch I asked her where
Baby sat, Every one rapped in turn on the
table, but Helen only shook her head until
the baby pounded away with her spoon, when
she rapidly spelled "Alice." In the afternoon
Rae and Chester were dancing the heel and toe
polka. Helen wanted to dance, too. Remem-
ber, she could not see their steps nor hear any


music, but she sat down on the floor and felt
their knees and followed the motions of their
feet until she quite understood. Then with a
happy smile she motioned Rae to try it with her,
and in a few minutes she could keep perfect
time, dancing as prettily as any of the children,
One afternoon I took her to visit a little girl
who had a pony cart. Helen felt of the pony,
and then of the tiny cart, asking rapidly what
it was and to whom it belonged, jumping ex-
citedly all the time Miss Sullivan told her.
Again she felt of them, until, finding the step,
she clapped her hands delightedly and climbed
into the cart. The reins were passed to her to
hold, but as soon as she was told they were "to
make pony go," she slapped them on the -little
Shetland's back with such energy that it was
all the groom could do to quiet him again.
Our wee hostess had some rabbits to show us,
so we followed her to their house. I put a
little fellow in Helen's arms to cuddle. Later
I gave her its mother, spelling "m-a-m-a."
"Ma-ma," she articulated immediately.
She is able to say both mama and .papa, as
these two words are made by the lips only.
Afterwards we visited the puppies. Helen was
pleased, as they reminded her of hers at home
in Alabama. She knows each of her own pups
by name, and can select them with ease from the
litter. We gave her a little 'doll in pink. She
was wild with joy, and on her fingers said,
" What a beautiful doll for me." She can ask
questions as rapidly as any child. Once two of
my cousins came on horseback to see her,
Helen was playing in the orchard with the
others, but soon she came running toward us
and was patting the horses. Coming in con-
tact with my friend's riding skirt, she was puz-
zled, but she felt of it, asking with the other
hand what it was. On being told that it was
used when riding, she danced with pleasure at
the idea and spelled my cousin's name at once.
She had met her a short time two days before
and seemed to fancy her greatly. This, I think,
was most remarkable, as my cousin did not dis-
mount and of course Helen could not feel her
face or hands, yet she knew her. I put Helen
in the saddle afterwards and led the horse to
the stable. She is always interested in every-
thing that is shown or told her, grasping the







"JUST THE TRUF."


ideas intelligently and expressing much delight
when she understands perfectly. She prints
neat, original letters, expressing her thoughts
clearly. This is one of her favorite amusements.
Helen went back to her home in November.
She said her uncle had promised her the small-
est horse he could find, and that she was going
to have a riding gown and ride very fast.
She enjoyed her Northern visit very much,
and learned very many interesting things which
she wished to tell her mamma and papa.
To me it seems that this sweet little girl who
is so happy and loving, having only the power


HELEN AND HER TEACHER.


to feel and smell and taste and thanking God
for his blessings, should be a most charming
lesson to us.
I am afraid that some of us are apt to take
our gifts as a matter of course, are we not?
B. BATCHELDER.


"JUST THE TRUF."

S FAIR little girl with blue eyes -and
golden hair, in a white dress, girdled
S with a broad blue sash, Lora Belmont,
the pet and darling of the kindergar-
ten. A sad frightened little girl just now,
standing before her teacher, head turned aside,
eyes drooping, heavy with tears, and a small
dimpled brown hand held in Miss Farley's own.
Miss Farley's face looked almost as sad as
Lora's. The very spirit of mischief seemed to
have been in this baby scholar of hers all day
long. Three times she had been found whisper-
ing busily between the recesses which came
every hour, giving the little tongues a chance to
chatter for five minutes. Twice she had bitten
into a great sweet apple which had been used
in the geography class to help the children
understand the globe lesson.
Numberless times she had left her seat with-
out first asking permission; and indeed Miss
Farley had been very patient; but now the
worst had happened; Lora stood before her
waiting for the cruel ruler to drop on her
brown fat hand.
The last piece of mischief had been to tip up
the end of the slate on which Harold had piled
his own and his sister's books with their three
boxes in which were kept pencils, erasers, wax,
bright-colored papers, and I can't tell what else
of kindergarten tools. Tip up the slate and let
the whole mass slide off; the boxes overturn
and their contents roll about the floor in wild
confusion, while she laughed such a gurgling
little laugh of amusement as could be heard all
over the room! Of course Miss Parley must
punish her. How else could she hope to keep
order in the schoolroom ? But Harold, Lora's
friend and companion, to and from school, was
-at the teacher's side, begging. He was to be.
punished; he knew that very well. He had
broken -the rules, and felt sure he could not
escape. He did not try for himself, only for
Lora. She did not mean to tip his slate over;
he felt quite sure of that; he had shoved it
very near the edge; he was trying to see how
near he could get it without having it fall off;
Lora put out her hand just then to get a pict-
ure that Jamie Wilbur was handing her across


..rr i
;L(
%'
1







SOA1E C(ONUNNDREMIS.


his desk, and it hit the slate and of course it
fell. Did she think Lora ought to be punished
for an accident ?
Harold was a handsome, manly boy; a good
boy, too, generally, though he had been sadly
naughty to-day. The teacher could not help
loving him as he talked; could not help feeling
glad of any excuse which would make it seem
right not to punish Lora. Yet she hesitated.
Lora was growing very careless indeed. If she
was to come to school at all she must be taught
in some way to obey her
teacher.
At last she decided what
to do. -
"If Lora will say she
did not mean to tip the ,
slate over, I will forgive .
her other naughty ways,
and not punish her to-
night," she said. :'
"Of course she will,"
said Harold promptly. ,'
You didn't mean to do
it, did you, Lora ?" And
Jamie Wilbur who sat
very near the desk, nudged
her shrugged-up little
shoulder, and whispered,
Say no, Lora, quick."
Then Lora, her blue
eyes seeming to press back '
the tears that wanted to
come, straightened herself
up, turned her face fully 1. .' ,
: toward her teacher and
Said in slow, distinct tones:
I wouldn't go and tell
what wasn't just all truf, ..
for twenty-leven whip-
pings. I did tip the slate
over, purpose; because it
looked as though it would make such a slam,
and the things would woll awound so funny.
And they did. And I couldn't help laughing.
And I'm sorry; but Ive told the truf."
Then the tears came in good earnest; wails
that went right to Miss Farley's heart.
"All the scholars who would like to have
me forgive little Lora without punishing her,


may stand up," said the teacher. And forty-
two little boys and girls were on their feet in a
second!
And I am glad, aren't you? PANSY.

SOME CONUNDRUMS.

C OME now and maybe you'll hear some-
thing new:
Every year nearly 1,000,000 tons of water
fall upon each square mile of that lake near


I. .





"SHE DIDN'T MEAN TO."

your house. It must first rise to the clouds.
What lifts it? or who?
A certain great professor says that a squash
has shown power enough to lift 3000 pounds!
You can lift the squash and eat it for that mat-
ter, but can you lift 3000 pounds? Please ex-
plain the mystery, my young philosopher.
What do you say to that wonderful cannon








HOW BABY ANIMALS ARE CARRIED.-"EXACTLY THE TRUTH."


that shoots a ball as big as your meeting-house,
and fifty times faster than your father's rifle can
send a bullet ?
Look into the sky to-night and you'll see the
ball Ii.._, and it's larger than St. Peter's
church in 11ome; larger than-Texas; than
Asia with all Europe "hanging on behind,"
and larger still; and it's been flying at that
rate the last 1000 years and 1,000,000 more,
and it goes round and round But where's the
cannon, and who fired it? And when will this
ball hit the mark and stop ?
Ever see a forest fire, its flames leaping 100
feet upward ? But this very moment there is
another over 90,000,000 miles from where you
sit-so you need not fear-whose flames
reach 200,000 miles into the air! What say
you to that ? and where is it? and won't the
wood and coal be burned out there soon at that
rate ?
Did you ever hang your hat upon nothing ?
And yet there is something bigger than all the
hats and caps in Boston together, and this
something is under your feet. You may go
round and round it, rope nor rock nor anything
to keep it from falling can be found! What
can it be ? and why doesn't it fall ?
Ever heard of a clock that would run five
years without winding? There is one that was
set running before Adam was born. He used
it, but never wound it.
Eve did ? "
She couldn't reach it.
Methuselah kept time by it, but never wound
it up all those 969 years!
Then his hired man did ?"
Nor his hired man. Nor Noah, nor Moses,
nor Samson. It hasn't been wound in 1,000,000
years. It stays wound And runs on and on
and keeps perfect time and it is cheaper than
the Waterbury watch !
How, think you, does it compare with that
wonderful clock that was traveled about the
country a few years since for a show? M.

AMONG our own comparatively familiar
animals we find a most interesting exam-
ple of pick-a-pack riding. The common opos-
sum of the South, the only pouched animal of
this country, first carries its young in a pouch;


but when they are well grown and capable of
running about, they take their places upon her
back, and cling there, sometimes six or seven,
presenting a very animated appearance, their
little black eyes glistening and the little ears
erect. The little opossums have a peculiar way
of holding on; in this having an advantage
over almost all other animals. Their tails are
what is called prehensile, or have the faculty
of clinging to any object, like the tail of the
so-called ring-tailed monkey; so when they
leap upon the mother's back they clasp their
tails about hers, and so retain their hold, the
mother bending her tail over her back so that
all may have a secure grasp, and in this way
the family travels about among the tree-tops,
in search of food.
Nearly all the monkeys carry their young in
their arms, and they are often seen astride of
the neck, peering over the mother's shoulder in
a comical way. The sea-otter is also noted for
the care of its young; the little ones being
carried about in every conceivable position.
- From A 5'. ... Company," by -Dr. C.
F. Holder.

"EXACTLY THE TRUTH."

ES, I think she would better go down
street," said Mrs. Holden. "It will be
a good finish to the day !"
Her voice was harsh, and she set down the
pitcher of water so hard on the table that
Maynie looked at it curiously, wondering if the
pitcher didn't crack. Maynie knew that Mrs.
Holden was vexed. Perhaps it is little wonder;
she had had a hard day. There had been a
great deal to do, and only one pair of hands
to do it. For Elsie, who was twelve, and quite
able to help, had been almost sick, with a hard
cold, and had left her room un-swept, and the
drawing-room in a litter, because her cold made
her head ache, so that she could not pick up the
papers and books scattered about. To add to
her other cares, Mrs. Holden had been some-
what worried about Elsie, for her colds some-
times meant .serious business; and the least
hoarseness was watched with great care. Now
at the close of this busy, anxious day, just as
Mrs. Holden was trying to hurry the fire, to







"EXACTLY THE TRUTH."


have supper ready for two hungry men
would soon be home, and trying to get
chores done before dark; trying, in short, tc
in tw:, places at once, came her daughter Elh
friend, who had been spending an hour with ]
n-k'ii,. if Elsie could go down town with her
ihI:- .. o'clock mail. 1"Yes," said Mrs. Hol1
I i iiink she would better go down town! "
Ti.- tones of her voice were what would
c.:i.il sarcastic, and there was almost a sr
o.,n hir face. It seemed to her so silly thr
g;ri wlth as much sense as she thought her E
L.1, ,should really know no better than to 1
al.,:.iit goiug down town at the close of a ra
da., when the evening was setting in dark
st.,in'y. and when she had been so nearly
sick all day as to be unable to do herwork.
SMaynie understood her, and without wait-
ing for more words, turned away looking
greatly disappointed. It was St. Valen-
tin.:'s Day, and she expected at least two
:valentines. If Elsie could not go to the
otli'., with her she would have to wait until
mo.rl _i before she saw them. This seemed
a tri.l too hard to bear. If only she had
not 1.. -n forbidden to go alone, she would
juti .- soon scamper down to the office

SWh it -did she say?" Elsie asked, as
wihl rther sl6w steps her friend re-
t u r i .i.. Elsie was half-lying on the
0loi1-g., for her head ached. She thought
to heri.-lf that she knew well enough what
her mother must have said, without ask-
in2, nc-vertheless she asked.
Ma, jie reflected a moment as to how
to alns-er this question; then a sudden tel
Stati:uo cAme to her, and she replied:
SShe said she thought you'd better go."
SDid she really?" said Elsie, sitting uprif
in lie-r surprise. "Maynie Brown, you are
.. forini._ me, are you?"
N...' said Maynie, steadily, I'm telling
just th..- truth. She-said those very words."
0, M.aynie, Maynie! The "very words,'
is trie, but in what a different tone from
one you are using! You have repeated th
so that instead of meaning as they did to ,
S- It hardly seems possible she can be sue
dlunce as to think for a moment of going


you have made her say, Why, yes, I think it
might be a good idea for her to go."
"How very funny! said Elsie, looking sur-
prised, and almost bewildered. "I did not
think for a moment that she would let me go;
but perhaps she thinks it would do me good to
get the air. I have been in the house all day."
Perhaps so," said Maynie, but her voice was
rather faint this time.
Ten minutes afterwards the two girls were
out in the damp air that made Elsie shiver and
draw her wrap closer about-her.
The next morning at the breakfast table
Maynie heard with great dismay that her father
had spent half the night with her friend Elsie.


-






.. .








"DO YOU WONDER THAT SHE LOOKED SOBER?"


/'


"She is a very sick girl," he said, in answer to
her questions. She has taken a violent cold.
It seems she went out last night in the damp-
ness, when she already had some cold, and set-
tled it on her lungs. I don't know how it will
go with her, but I'm afraid they have trouble
before them."
Do you wonder that Maynie looked sober?
"I told just exactly the truth, anyhow," she
said to herself, going over in memory the scene
of the evening before. "I said the very words,
and told exactly the truth."
But I don't think she made Conscience believe
any such thing. Do you?






A STRANGE PASSENGER.



























































































CHILDHOOD ACROSS THE SEA.






ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.


ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

]JY hMAGARET SIDNEY.

(CHIAIP'TERI MII.

IARY ELLIS was taking out her bread
from the oven. The rosy cheeks
bending over the steaming loaf were
,' not marks of the morning's busy work
alone; there was the flush of expec-
tancy, and a gentle excitement shone in the
brown eyes. Any one who had not been told,
could easily have guessed that Miss Ellis had
some anticipated delight in store.
"There, that's done," she cried, hurrying
over to the table with her burden of sweet
loaves, "thank fortune. Everything favors me,
and I do verily believe that I shall get started
to Eliza's by one o'clock."
Thereupon the tidy kitchen resounded to a
merry din as Mary hurried from one task to
another, her mind pleasantly intent on the
outing before her, her fingers mechanically per-
forming their duty.
"It's two whole years since I've been to
Eliza Smith's," she ran on to herself, "and if I
don't go this week, why, it will be another
twelvemonth, like enough, before I start. Lucky
that everybody is well, and that father and the
boys will let me off; and I don't believe it will
storm, so I am 'really and truly,' as the chil-
dren say, going to have a good time."
"Eliza Smith's," over in Grafton, the other
side of the hill, a good ten-mile drive, was the
Eden to which Miss Ellis' eyes always turned
whenever she was so presumptuous as to think
of a vacation. It was the home of an old
schoolmate, who from pinafore days, had grown
up to that girlish intimacy with Mary that en-
titled her to be the sharer of all those delicious
secrets fondly supposed to belong to young
ladies alone, and since the two ladies were
now arrived at the age of thirty years, with
no diminution of their friendship, it was fair
to suppose that it was worth keeping, and really
merited an occasional interchange of visits.
For the past two years, as .Mary had re-
marked to herself, she had been disappointed
for one reason and another, and kept from the


longed-for visit she intended to pay at least
once a year. But now after many attempts it
was at last within her grasp, and she could set
out with a clear conscience, as everything in
the way of provisions was baked up for the
three days she intended to stay away from
home.
With one eye on, the clock, Mary bustled
away, reflecting that everything was so far
along in the work that she could soon press out
the cambric ruffles in the neck and sleeves of
her brown merino dress. She had slipped an
iron on to the stove for that purpose, and in a
few moments she was preparing to run up-stairs
to get the gown. Her hand was on the latch,
when she heard a step in the little entry, then
.some one stepped into the kitchen.
"Why, Rob Ferris!" she cried, "how you
scared me."
"I knocked," said Rob, "but you didn't
hear me, so I came in."
He was trembling from suppressed excite-
ment. His eyes shone like stars, and his hands
twitched in his efforts to control them.
"What's the matter?" demanded Miss Ellis,
her hand falling from the latch, as she surveyed
him exhaustively. "Goodness, Rob, there
hasn't anything happened to Miss Philena!"
No," said the boy. "Read that; she sent
it," and he'thrust a folded paper into Miss
Ellis's outstretched palm.
Mary took it wonderingly, and read the
words written in Miss Philena's cramped hand-
writing at least three -times. Strange to
say it was not till after she looked up that it
flashed upon her what the request contained in
the note meant to her.
"I can't do it!" Then she cried passion-
ately, "It's out of the question." Then she bit
her lips and coughed as she looked at the boy.
"Well, Rob, you sit down," she said at last,
kindly; "I'll be back in a minute," and skipping
over the flat stone that served as a door-step
like a girl, she ran into the barn.
"John- John!" she called 'at the foot of
the crooked stairs leading up to the loft,
come down here do "
"What's up?" demanded John, peering
down at her, and pausing in his occupation of
filling a bag with oats.






ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.


"Do come down," cried Mary impatiently,
arid in her excitement crumpling up a letter
she held in her hand--"John, it is the most
ilreadful thing!"
John dropped the bag and set down the oat-
Steasure to get over the stairs quickly. Mary
threw herself on the work-bench and silently
put the letter into his hand.
"Whew!" he whistled as he accomplished
the last word. "'Well, what are you going to
do about it, Mary?"
"Stay at home, of course," said Mary discon-
solately. "The boy must be gotten over to
Freeburg. I've got to give up going to Eliza's."
"You can't," declared John sympathetically.
"I must," said Mary, clasping her hands
tightly together to keep a rush of disappointed
words from utterance, and swinging one foot
irritably. "You'll have to take the horse and
carriage and carry him to Freeburg, instead of
driving me to Grafton. There's no other way.
Now don't let us talk any more about it."
John obediently shut his lips fast and waited
for her plan which he knew would be forthcom-
ing presently, and he was not disappointed.
Mary, accustomed to arrange matters of import-
ance for the household, now rapidly lent herself
to the re-adjustment of the journey her brother
was to take; and then she launched into a dis-
cussion of the trouble at the Slocums' that had
caused all this change of plans.
"To think of binding out that boy to Job
Barker!" she began in a hushed voice. Joel
Slocum must be going down hill pretty fast to
come to that."
: The old scoundrel!" cried John between
his teeth. "Mary, there isn't much loud talk
about it, 'cause Barker is a man of means, and
awfully smart in his farming; but it's whispered
around that Jim Bentley the boy he brought
home from New York State- has been beaten
terribly. The neighbors complained; they get
nervous, folks say, hearing the noise, and know-
ing there's brutality at work."
Mary's cheek flushed with womanly indigna-
tion. "The brute-oh! to think of Joel
Slocum being determined to let him get Rob."
"I don't really suppose Slocum knew any-
thing of the talk about Barker," said John.
"Well, he ought to," retorted Mary, with


spirit, "before he bound out a poor defenseless
boy into his clutches, and that boy his nephew."
"Well, Mary," said her brother slowly, "if
I were you, I'd set to work to get him," point-
ing with his thumb to the house, over to Free-
burg; then you can sit and talk comfortable."
"You're right, John," cried Mary, springing
b her feet and swallowing a sigh at the thought
af Eliza Smith's expectations changed to woe.
You get ready, and I'll put your lunch up,"
and she sped into the house.
Rob was pacing the kitchen floor, restless
with excitement. He stopped as she came in,
and looked at her, all his heart in his eyes.
Rob," said Mary, going up to him and taking
his hand, your Aunt Philena says we are to get
you over to Freeburg, see you on board the
cars, under the care of the conductor, and that
he will put you off at Parkersville, where her
cousin Hetty Slocum lives; she married a
Russell -William Russell and your aunt feels
that they will do the right thing by you. She
says that she's given you the address'on a bit
of paper she put in your bag of money."
Rob's hand involuntarily sought his bag of
treasures, and his eyes shone. It was impossible
for him not to show that he felt the uplifting
of its presence.
"Better not think too much of it, Rob," ad-
vised Miss Ellis cautiously, "you'll show it if
you do. Well, now, that's all I can do for you;
get you off as soon as I can. But you must eat
a bit first." She ran into the buttery and pres-
ently returned with a generous supply of cold
meat and a good wedge of custard pie. And
making Rob sit down, she put them before him
and then ran out to hurry John once more.
When she came back, the plate was empty,
and Rob had the appearance of one who could
easily have disposed of twice the amount.
"I know what it is to see boys eat," she de-
clared, laughingly, "Rob, I'm only too glad to
have you enjoy it," and she seized his plate and
was soon refilling it.
Take plenty of time," she said, coming back;
"John's got to have his lunch yet."
But the next moment John came into the
kitchen: "I-shall eat my snack on the way,
Mary. Put up a good one, and plenty of
cheese. We.ought to be off this minute."







A HELPFUL DAUGHTER.


A HELPFUL DAUGHTER.

Twas a very busy household. At
l least the mistress of it felt that she
must go three ways at once, if that
Were possible.
In the first place, there was a great
deal of company whose wants must be thought
of, and in the second place more company was
coming. They lived in an old-fashioned house,
which had in it a curious mixture of the old
and the new, that made it, the city nephews
thought, a delightful place. There was a con-
servatory which took in the whole of the south


the house was an old-fashioned kitchen with a
fireplace and a crane, on which were hung the
very kettles that the grandmother of the house
had used years and years ago. There Gretchen,
the little Dutch maid-of-all-work, who clung to
the white caps and white shoulder capes she
had worn across the sea, spent a great deal of
time, and thought it much the nicest spot in
the house.
It was here she carefully arranged the dried
flowers which she gathered from time to time,
in the early fall. She gathered them because
some of them reminded her of home.
But on this particular morning there was


"HER COUSINS TRIED PIECE AFTER PIECE."


piazza, where the vines grew and the flowers
bloomed as luxuriantly this winter day, as
though it was summer sunshine pouring through
the glass walls. There was a wide old-fashioned
settee, and quaint old-fashioned chairs; and
the city nieces thought, of all pleasant places
in which to while away a winter's morning, this
was the pleasantest. Quite at the other end of


little time to linger over them. The oldest
daughter of the house was to be married in two
days; and midwinter though it was, the aunts
and cousins had gathered, and were waiting for
the grand event; while Mrs. Hunter, the mother,
flew about, and wondered how the few pairs of
hands she could control, were ever to accomplish
all that was to be done.







A HELPFUL DAUGHTER.


"If Minnie were only to be relied upon,"
she said, there are so many things she might
do! But it is almost as hard to keep her at
work as it is to do the work one's self. "I won-
der where she is now? She might rub these
spoons."
She was, at that particular moment, in the
conservatory, listening with charmed ears while
her cousins tried piece after piece in the new
music book that-Uncle Porter had sent up by
express the evening before. Minnie was four-
teen, and as bright and sparkling as a drop of
dew, and about as reliable. She knew at this
minute that she ought to go and help her mother,
yet she lingered. Between the songs, the
cousins talked, and this was almost better to
Minnie than singing.
"What a queer little roly-poly creature that
Gretchen of yours is," said Cousin Faye.
Where did Aunt Magagaret pick her up?"
She came to us almost as soon as she landed,"
said Minnie, "and has never been away any-
where. She is real good."
"Oh! I suppose so, but she is the oddest-
looking creature I ever saw! I feel like laugh-
ing whenever I look at her. Why does she
wear those odd-looking caps ?"
"I suppose she thinks they look pretty,"
; laughed Minnie, adding in the next breath:
S"0, dear! I suppose I must go and help
mother. I don't see why people need make
such a time when they get married. I'm not
going to."
When at last she reached the kitchen, her
mother looked hurried and troubled.
S "I am wanting you, daughter," she said.
"There is so much to do I really must have
your help this morning."
"All right, mother. What shall I do first?
Oh! you are getting out the silver. I'll rub
that. I like to get hold of Grandma's old silver,
it is such quaint, pretty stuff. Let me unpack
it, mother, and I'll clean it all."
No," said Mrs. Hunter, "you will not have
time for that to-day. We shall need this table,
you know, to set for dinner. Just rub the
spoons and forks now, and this evening we will
Sget at the silver."
0, mother! .I shall have plenty of time
before dinner for the whole of it. What is the


use of having two spells at it when it all has to
be done? I would rather do it now a great
deal, than to be at such work in the evening."
There was more talk; Mrs. Hunter gave
reasons why it would be better not to get
Grandmother's silver out just then, all of which


... --- -- --- --- .... -- ll'

"SHE CAREFULLY ARRANGED THE DRIED FLOVWE:S."

Minnie answered- to her satisfaction, and argued
her way so earnestly, that at last her mother
said with a sigh : Well, have it as you wish;
but do get at it as soon as possible."
This Minnie did, in great satisfaction, and pres-




University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs