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About The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 9, 1898)
CHAPTER III. ( Continued. ) "Has their education been com- ' /lenced ? " asks Ruby , with keen anx- Uy. ' "My sister imagined that she had fucceeded in teaching them their al- rhabet , " laughs Robert Champley ; "but Bob still confounds 'b' and 'd , ' r/hUst Meg's learning is limited to an acquaintance with the letter 'o. ' " "Dreadful ! " ejaculates Ruby , look- ng shocked. "No time must be lost. f. think so much depends upon a child's * arly training and I know that was dear Clara's idea too. " "Was it ? " questions Mr. Champley fagorly , and with his keen eyes fixed /teadily on Ruby , as though she had fuddenly turned into an oracle. "In < hat case I must see about it at once : hut I must manage to get someone who will make their lessons more than half rlay , for they arc neither of them par- Icularly strong , poor children , and I would not have them worried on any ccount. I dare say if I offer a hand- rome salary I shall be able to get them a governess who will listen to my wishes on that point. I had bet- < 2r , I think , advertise for some one About twenty , then she will not be above playing with the children , and she will not have got soure'd by buf feting with the world. " "Oh. Mr. Champley , what an utter- vy mistaken idea ! " cries Ruby , in real consternation at this most dangerous .suggestion. "What you want is a woman of sixty a thorough discipli narian. " "Oh , no , I don't , " responds Mr. Charapley. "I am not going to hand .iver my children to a martinet. " He speaks with such unusual decision that Ruby begins most heartily to wish she ; iad not broached the subject of edu cation. "But girls are so inexperiencsd and often BO.impatient with children , " she /alters. "If you are determined to nave a young person , would it not be better to engage some one in th neighborhood who could come to tham 'or a few hours a day ? " "That is a very good idea , as far a it goes , " answers Mr. Champley re- led ! vely. "Only where am I to find ner ? " Suddenly a bright thought nay , al most an inspiration strikes Ruby Looking up at him , with clasped Bands and beseeching eyes , she says "Oh , Mr. Champley , if I might only DC allowed to teach them , I would with pleasure ! " "You , Miss Wilden , " says her com panion in surprise "you ? " "Yes. Why not ? " questions Ruby quickly. "I was their mother's best friend , and I dote on children. You do not know how much brightness would be added to my lot if you would cnly entrust me with their education ! ' "I had no idea that you had any gift lhat way. " "I think I have. At any rate ] know that it would make me very liappy if you would send me Bob and Meg for a few hours three mornings a week. " Mr. Champley frowns and looks un comfortable. "I I really could not dream of so far troubling you , Miss Wilden , " he says , with a decided head-shake. "Teaching is very irksome work , unless to the in itiated , and I do not wish my children to become a burden on my friends. " "Oh , nonsense ! " cries Ruby , with a playful smile. "Don't I tell you that I should enjoy having them ? " Rais ing her voice a little she calls her another to her aid. "Mamma , I am trying to induce Mr. Champley to let xne teach Bob and Meg. Don't you think it would really do me good to liavo some regular occupation ? " "Of course it would , my dear , " ac quiesces Mrs. Wilden cheerfully "only 3 am. not quite sure you know much to teach them. " "You see , mamma thinks me in competent , " says Ruby , smiling "per haps you object to my plan for the cams reason ? " "Oh. dear no ! " laughs Robert Champley. "I have no doubt whatever > of your ability ; but " 1 "la that case I shan't listen to your Tjulsr " says Ruby archly , as she risss from her seat and crosses over to the piano , "and I shall consider the mat ter settled. Next Monday I shall ex pect the dear children at ten o'clock precisely. " Then , without allowing time for any objection , she takes the seat which Shell has just vacated , and breaks into a brilliant arrangement of lively Scotch airs. Rooert Champley makes one more effort to free himself from an obliga tion which is so exceedingly distaste ful ; but his not very clear reasons are quickly overruled by Ruby and her mother , so that he leaves the Wilder ness that evening with a cloud on his usually placid brow. "I wish that woman had more tact , " he confides gloomily to Ted as , hav ing donned light overcoats and lighted their cigars , they wend their way down the short drive. "Which woman ? " queries Ted , in a roice of indifferent wonder. "Why , Misa Wilden , of course ! Her common sense might tell her that I would rather have a regular governess for Iho children if they nesd teaching. There is nothing in the world I hate more .than officious meddling with my affairs , and yet there is nothing that one is more utterly incapable of sup pressing without positive rudeness. " "I say , don't get waxy over it , old boy ! " suggests Ted , regarding his brother with some amazement , for Robert has as a rule such an equable temper that it seems strange to find it even in the least ruffled. "For my own part , I thought it awfully kind of Miss Wilden to propose having the kids over she seems very unselfish and kind-hearted. " "I don't doubt for a moment that she is a most estimable woman , " responds Robert Impatiently , "but she has no tact , no common sense ; she must have seen plainly that I hated being put un der such an obligation. If she insists upon teaching the children , I don't see how I can prevent her , only I shall certainly send her a check at the end of the quarter for her trouble , and so make a business matter of it. " "You can't possibly do that , " cries Ted , in a voice of consternation ; "I am sure she would take it as an insult ! If you want to satisfy your conscience , the children could make her some pres ent of jewelry or something of that sort. " "I don't care so long as she gets paid somehow , " remarks the elder brother carelessly , and yet with a good deal of annoyance in his tone. Ted walks on for some moments in meditative silence ; then he says sud denly "I wonder what has come over Shell since I met her last. She used to be one of the joliiest little girls in exist ence , and now she seems to be full of selfishness and spite. Surely she can't have been crossed in love ; yet nothing else that I can think of would account for the utter indifference which she seems for the world in general. " "Poor little Shell I noticed a great change in her too ! " assents Robert dreamilj' . "As you say , she used to be such a chatty child , and this evening ber behavior was almost rude ; perhaps -he has had something , as you sug gest , to sour her. I thought she looked quite pretty in that simple white dress. " "I might have thought her pretty if she had condescended to make herself agreeable , " laughs Ted ; "but , since she did nothing but snub me at every turn , her tiair struck me as being remark ably red , and her temper uncommonly bad. Wasn't that piece of music an awful infliction ? " "Excruciating ! " agrees Robert.heart- ily. "Her family ought to give her a hint not to inflict herself en visitors , or , if she insists on playing she should limit her performance to five minutes. " "Oh. well , I must own it was rather my fault ! " confesses honest Ted. "She warned me beforehand that I shouldn't want her to play again if I heard her once. " "Well , she gave us a quantity , if not quality ! " laughs Robert. "Indeed she did ! " acquiesces Tecl , with almost a groan. CHAPTER IV. Ruby has now been the self-consti tuted instructress of Bob and Meg for nearly a month. The novelty of her voluntary task has worn off ; the chil dren too have taken off that feeling of restraint and shyness which caused them in the beginning to sit like little models of patience during the two hours' devoted to lessons. They have now be gun to realize the fact that their lib erty is restricted during the morning visits to the Wilderness , and both are beginning to regard their disinterested benefactress simply In the light of a jailer. Ruby possesses none of those qualities so essentially necessary to win childish hearts she has no patience - , tience , no tact , and not an atom of real sympathy for her young charges. One bright June morning Bob is la boriously forming some strange hiero glyphics supposed to represent pot hooks in a very blotted and limpy copy book , whilst poor little Meg , with an ominous quiver of her lips , is stand ing with her hands behind her in front of Ruby , vainly seeking in her passive little brain for the answer to the oft- repeated question "Now , Meg wake up , and tell me , like a good little child , what is three times four. " "Tree times four tree times four , " repeats Meg drearily so often has the same question been put in the same words that it conveys no meaning to her childish reason. Ruby has a way of scanning the morning news whilst she carries on her monotonous string of questions , so that her face is com pletely hidden from her poor little vic tim. "Yes three times four. You will stand there until you tell me , you know very well , " persists Ruby in tones of stern reproach. This seems such an exceedingly tlreary prospect to poor Meg that her two little fat fists are thrust suddenly into her eyes , and she breaks into a lismal howl. "I say you Miss Wilden you just stop bullying our Meg , " cries Bob , sud- lenly turning round on his high perch , ; rom which he cannot descend unaided , and regarding Ruby with angry eyes and a very red face. "You rude little boy , " says Ruby , throwing dov/n her paper in surprise , and regarding the young rebel with a haughty stare ; "go to your copy at once , cr I will put you in the corner ! Meg is a naughty , naughty girl , and if she does not tell me at once what three times four is I will make her a dunce's cap. " Meg throws herself upon the carpet in a paroxysm of fright ; the disgrace to her mind sounds so terrible that her howl changes into convulsive sobs , on ly stopped when Bob'shouts at the top of his voice "Three times four are twelve , Me ? . " "Tree times four are twelve , " sobs Meg-from 'her crouching position ; and then she goes on with her crying more tranquilly. This open rebellion on Bob's part causes Ruby to rise from her chair and advance ominously towards the culprit. "I don't care I don't ! " cries Bob in a frightened voice. "You can put me on three dunces' caps if you like. " Ruby makes no answer , but , having reached hig side , administers a sharp box on each ear. "I don't care , " repeats Bob. whose poor liitle face is crimson at the indig nity. "Then you are a wicked little boy , ' says Ruby angrily ; "and as a punish ment you shall do another whole copy of pot-hooks. " 'I don't care , " reiterates Bob dog gedly , as Ruby roughly drags him from his perch. "Now watch me whilst I sot your copy , and if you make a blot on this page I shall punish you , remember. " "I wouldn't be as cross as you for de whole world , " remarks Meg's chirping voice at this moment with great decis ion. She has risen from the carpet , and is regarding Ruby with a mixture of dislike and fear. Then there was silence in the apart ment whilst Ruby labors through a whole line of stately pot-hooks she is always very careful about setting the copy well , because the copy is occasion ally shown to Mr. Champley. She makes a graceful picture , seated on a low chair , and with her well poised head bent eagerly over her task ; unfortunately. Bob and Meg are not of an age to appreciate beauty as a mere study. Yet , notwithstanding this fact , Bob's keen eyes are fixed upon her closely , though with no friendly look. Presently his keen gaze lights upon a hair-pin standing loosely out from Ruby's heavy plaits. Cautiously very cautiously he first touches it , then draws it out and holds it up for Meg's approval. That little damsel smiles and dimples with delight. Much pleased with his success , he quietly withdraws another pin and then another ; but suddenly his exul tation changes into fright , for with a slow movement the big shining plait conies gliding down and falls at his feet. feet."Oh "Oh , I didn't mean it. " ' he says in a tone of apology , "but your hair has ccme off. " Even now he does not understand the enormity of his offense , nor can he comprehend why Ruby becomes so alarmingly red as she stoops to pick up her lost property. "Did you cut it off , Bob ? " asks Meg innocently. "No. I only took out the pins , and it fell off , " explains Bob , who is full of consternation at the mischief he has wrought. "You had no right to touch it , " says Ruby severely. "If your papa only knew how rude you have been lie would have you punished. " This she says by way of warning the children against repeating this contretemps at home little docs she understand their perfect love and confidence in their father. Her announcement only has the ef fect of sanding tender-hearted Meg off into a spasmodic fit of weeping , so dis tressed is she at the idea of causing grief to her dear papa. i ( To be Continued. ) ! VALLEY FORGE. The Wonderful Endurance of Cold , Sick , Ilunpry Soldiers. But , whether due to military expe diency or not , the story of Valley Forge is an epic of slow suffering si lently borne , of patient heroism , and of a very bright and triumphant out come , when the gray days , the long nights and the biting frost fled together , says Scribner's. The middle of Decem ber in the North American woods ; no shelter , no provisions , no preparations ; such were the conditions of Valley Forge when the American army firs' : came there. Two weeks of hard work and huts were built and arranged in streets. This work was done on a diet of flour mixed with water and bak ed in cakes , with scarcely any meat or bread. At night the men huddled around the fires to keep from freezing. Few blankets , few coveringvs , many soldiers without shoes , "wading naked in December's snows" such were the attributes of Valley Forge. By the new year the huts were done , the streei laid out and an army housed , with some three thousand men unfit for duty , frostbitten , sick and hungry They had shelter , but that was about all. The country had been swept so bare by the passage of the contending armies that even straw to lie on was hard to get , and the cold , uncovered ground often had to serve for a sleep ing place. Provisions were scarce and [ lunger was' added to the pain of cold , sometimes the soldiers went for days without meat sometimes without any foodLafayette tells us , marveling at Lhe endurance and courage of the men. T'here ' is often famine in the camp , writes Hamilton , a man not given to usagseratlon. TALMAGjE'S SEBMON. OUR OWN TIMES. SUNDAY'S SUBJECT , Text Acts. 133G : "Davlil After He Had Served Ills Own Generation by the Will of God Fell on Sloep" Good Ad vice for Lawmakers. That is a text which lias for a long time been running through my mind. Sermons have a time to be born as well as a time to die ; a cradle as well as a grave. David , cowboy and stone- slinger , and fighter , and dramatist , and blank-verse writer , and prophet , did his best for the people of his time , and then went and laid down on the ssuth- eru hill of Jerusalem in that sound slumber which nothing but an archangelic - angelic blast can startle. "David , after he had served his own generation by the will of God , fell on sleep. " It was his own generation that he had served ; that is , the people living at the time he lived. And have you ever thought that our responsibilities are chiefly with the people now walking abreast of us ? There are about four generations to a century now , but in olden times , lite was longer , and there wa ? , pernapst only one generation to a century. Tak ing these facts into the calculation , I make a rough guess , and say that thers have been at least one hundred and eighty generations of the human fam ily. With reference to them we have no responsibility. We can not teach them , we cannot correct their mis takes , we cannot soothe their sorrows , we cannot heal their wounds. Their sepulchres are deaf and dumb to any thing we might say of them. The last regiment of that great army has pass ed out of sight. We might halloo as loud as we could ; not one of them would avert his head to see what we wanted. I admit that I am In sym pathy with the child whose father had suddenly died , and who in her little evening prayer wanted to continue to pray for her father , although he had gone into heaven and no more needed her prayers , and looking up into her mother's face , said : "Oh , mother , I cannot leave him all out. Let me say , thank God that I had a good father once , so I can keep him in my pray ers. " But the one hundred and eighty gen erations have passed off. Passed up Passed -down. Passed forever. Then there are generations to come after our earthly existence has ceased. We shall not see them ; we shall not hear any of their voices ; we will take no part in their convocations , their elec tions , their revolutions , their catas- trophies , their triumphs. We will in no wise affect the ISO generations gone or the ISO generations to come , except as from the galleries of heaven the former generations look down and rejoice at our victories , or as we may. by our behavior , start influences , good or bad , that shall roll on through the advancing ages. But our business Is , like David , to serve , our own genera tion , the people now living , those whose lungs now breathe , and whose hearts now beat. AnJ mark you , it is not a silent procession , but moving. It is a "forced march" at twenty-four miles a day , each hour being a mile. Going with ttbat celerity , it has got to be a quick service on cur part , erne no service at all. We not only cannot teach the ISO generations past , and will not see the ISO generations to come , but this generation now on the stage will soon be off. and we ourselves will be off with them. The fact is. that you and I will have to start very soon for our work , or it will bo ironical and sarcastic for any one after our exit to say of us. as it was said of David , "Aft er he had served his own generation by the will of Gcd. he fell on sleep. " Well , now , let us look around earn estly , prayerfully , in a common sense way , and see what we can do for our own generation. First of all , let us see to It that , as far as we can. they have enough to eat. The human body is so constituted that three times a day the body needs food as much as a lamp needs oil , as much as a locomotive needs fuel. To meet this want God has girdled the earth with apple orch ards , orange groves , wheat fields , and oceans full of fish , and prairies full of cattle. And notwithstanding this , I will undertake to say that the vast majority of the liumsin family are now suffering either for lack of food or the right kind of food. Our civilization is all askew , and God only ran set it right. Many of the greatest estates of today have been built out of tha blood and bones of unrequited toil. la olden times , for the building of forts , and towers , the inhabitants of Ispahan , had to contribute 70.000 skulls , and Bagdad 90.000 human skulls , and that number of people were compelled to furnish the skulls. But these two con tributions added together made only 160,000 skulls , while into the tower of i.he world's wealth and pomp have been wrought the skeletons of uncounted , . numbers of the half-fed populations of ' [ he earth millions of skuls. ! Don't 3\t \ down at your table with five or six : oiirses of abundant supply and think nothing of that family in the next \ street who would take any one of those five courses between soup and almond auts and feel they were in heaven. The lack of the right kind of food is the r : ause of much of the drunkenness. ' \fter drinking what many of our groc- ; rs call coffee , sweetened with what nanycall sugar , and eati.-.g what many jf our butchers call meat , and chewing ahat many of our bakers call brea-1. nany of the laboring class feel so I ; niserable they are tempted to put into heir nasty pipes what the tobnccon- . st calls tobacco , or go into the drink- ng saloons for what the rum sellers : all beer. Good coffee would do much n driving cut bad rum. , How can we serve cur generation ivith enough to eat ? By sitting down ; n embroidered slippers and lounging mck in an arm chair , our mouth puck- ercd up around a Havana of the best brand , and through clouds of luxuriant smoke reading about political economy and the philosophy of strikes ? Oh , no ! By finding out who in this city has been living on gristle , and sending than a tenderloin beefsteak. Seek out some family , who through sickness or conjunction of misfortunes , have not enough to eat , and do for them what Christ did for the hungry multitudes of Asia Minor , multiplying the loaves and fishes. Let us quit the surfeiting of ourselves until we cannot choke down another crumb of cake , and be gin the supply of others' necessities. So far from helping appease the world's hunger , are those whom Isaiah de scribes as grinding the faces of the poor. You have seen a farmer or a mechanic put a scythe or an ax on a grindstone , while someone was turn ing it round and round and the man holding the ax bore on it harder and harder , while the water dropped from the grindstone , and the edge of the ax from being round and dull , got keener and keener. So I have seen men who were put against the grindstone of hardship , and while one turned the crank , another would press the unfor tunate harder down and harder down until he was ground away thinner and thinner his comforts thinner , his prospects thinner , and his face thinner. And Isaiah shrieks cut : "What mem ye that ye grind the faces of the poor ? " * * * But , alas ! where are the good clothes for three-fourths of the human race ? The other one-fourth have appropriated them. The fact is , there needs to be and will be , a redistribution. Not by anar chistic violence. If outlawry had its way , it would rend and tear and dimin ish , until , instead of three-fourths of the world not properly attired , four- fourths would be in rags. I will let you know how the redistribution will take place. By generosity on the part of those who have a surplus , and in creased industry on the part of those suffering from deficit. Not all , but the large majority of cases of poverty in this country are a result of idleness or drunkenness , either on the part of the present sufferers or their ancestors. In most cases the rum jug is the mael strom that has swallowed down the 11-elihood of those who are in rags. But things will change , and by gen erosity on the part of the crowded wardrobes , and industry and sobriety on the part of the empty wardrobes , there will be enough for all to wear. Gcd has done his part toward the dressing of the human race. He grows a surplus of wool on the sheep's back , and flocks ream the mountains and valleys with a burden of warmth in tended for transference to human com fort , when the shuttles of the factories , reaching all the way from Chatta- hccchee to the Merrimac , shall have spun and woven it. In white letters of snowy fleece God has been writing for a thousand years , his wish that there might be warmth for all nations. While others are discussing the effect of higher or low tariff , or no tariff at all , on wool , you and I had better see if in our wardrobes we have nothing that we can spare for the suffering , or pick out seme poor lad of the street and take him down to a clothing store and fit him out for the season. Gospel of shoes ! Gospel of hats ! Gospel of clothes for the naked ! Again , let us look around and see how we may serve our generation. What shortsighted mortals we woul.l be if we were anxious to clothe and feed only the most insignificant part of a man , namely , his body , while we put forth no effort to clothe and feed and save his soul. Time is a little piece broken off a great eternity. What are we doing for the souls of this pres ent generation ? Let me say it is a gen eration worth saving. Most magnifi cent men and women are in it. We make a great ado about the improve ments in navigation , and in locomotion , and in art and machinery. We re mark what wonders of telegraph and telephone and the stethoscope. What improvement is electric light over a tallow candle ! But all these im provements 8re insignificant compared with the improvement in the human race. In olden times , once in a while , i great and ? oed man or woman would zome up. and the world has made a ireat fuss about it ever since ; but now they are so numerous , we scarcely speak about them. We put a halo about the people of the past , hut I : hink if the times demanded them , it .vould be found we have now living in his year. 1SOS. fifty Martin Liithers. jfty George Washfngtons. fifty Lady [ Itintmgdons. fifty' Elizabeth Frys. During our civil war more splendid varriors in North and South were de veloped in four years than the whole vorld developed in the previous twen- y years. I challenge the 4.000 years jefore Christ and also the eighteen enturies after Christ to show me the > qual cf charity en a large s.-ale of jcorge Peabody. This generation of nen and women is more worth sav- ng than any one of the ISO genera- ions that have passed off. Where shall . ve besin ? With ourselves. That is , , he pillar from which we must start. . , 'rescott. the blind historian , tells us low Pizarro saved his army for the ight when they were about deserting lira. With his sword he made a long si nark on the ground. He said : "My sio nen. on the north side are desertion o nd death ; on the south side is victory ; C ( in the north sale Panama and pov- LIT rty ; on the south side Peru with : il ! IT ts riches. Choose for yourselves ; ferny ITO ny part I go to the south. " Stepping .cross the line one by one his troops allowed , and finally his whole army. The sword of God's truth draws the ividing line today. On one side of it ol ole re sin. and ruin and death ; on the o ! tber side of it are pardon and useful- u oss and happiness and heaven. You uir irc ross from the wrong side to the right c : ide , and your family will cross with I F friends and your asso you , and your they will go. ciates. The way you go If we are not saved , we will never save * * * any one else. Why will you keep us all so nervous talking about that which is only a dormitory and a pillowed slumber , canopied by angels' wings ? Sleep ! Transporting sleep ! And what a glo rious awakening ! You and I have sometimes been thoroughly bewildered fatiguing journey ; we after a long and friend's house for the have stopped at a night , and after hours of complete un consciousness we have opened our eyes , the high-risen sun full in our faces , and before we could fully collect our faculties , have said : "Where am I ; whose house is this , and whose are these gardens ? " Anrd. then , it has flashed upon us in glad reality. And I should not wonder If. after we have served our generation , and by the will of God , have fallen on aleep , the- deep sleep , the restful sleep , we should awaken in blissful bewilderment , and for a little while say : "Where am I ? What palace is this ? Why , this looks like heaven ! It is ; it is. Why. there is a building grander than all the casf ties of earth heaved into a mountain of splendor that must be the palace of Jesus. And look there , at those walks lined with foliage more beautiful thaa anything I ever saw before , and see those who are walking > down those aisles of verdure. From what I have heard of them , those two arm and arm must be Moses and Joshua , him of -f Mount Sinai and him of the halting sun over Gibeon. And those two walking : arm in arm must be John and Paul , the one so gentle and the other so mighty. "But I must not look any longer at those gardens of beauty , but examine this building in which I have just awakened. I look out of the window this way and that , and up and down , and I find it is a mansion of immense size in which I am stopping. All its windows of agate and its colonnades of porphyry and alabaster. Why. I won der if this Is not the 'House of many Mansions , ' of which I used to read ? It is ; it is. There must be many of my kindred and friends in this very mansion. Hark ! Whose are those voices ? Whose are those bounding feet ? I open the door and see , and lo ! they are coming through all the corridors riders and up and down all the stairs , our long-absent kindred. Why , there is father , there Is mother , there are the- children. All well again. All young again. All of us together again. And as we embrace each other with the cry , 'Never more to part ; never more to part. ' the arches , the alcoves , the hall ways echo and re-echo the. words 'Never more to part , never more to part ! ' Then our glorified friends say : 'Come out with us and see heaven. * And. some cf them bounding ahead of us and some of them skipping beside ' * ! us , we start down the Ivory stairway. And we meet , coming up. one of the kings of ancient Israel , somewhat small of stature , but having a coun tenance radiant with a thousand victo ries. And as all are making obeisance 4. to this great one of heaven. I cry out. 'Who is he ? ' and the answer comes : 'This is the greatest of all kings ; it is David , who , after he had served his generation by the will cf God , fell oa sleep. ' " Grateful "Wren ? . An Illinois gentleman sends to the Montreal Herald a pretty bird story : Close to my window , as I write this. I see a wren's nest. Three years ago I ilrove some nails in a sheltered cor ner ; a pair of wrens built their nest there. The old birds often come into my oflice and sing. One of them has repeatedly alighted on my desk as I iiave been writing , saying plainly by lis actions , "You won't hurt me. We ire friends. " A few years since , in a < not-hole in a dead tree , near a'path. : rom my oflice to my house , lived a : amily of wrens , with whom I had 'ormed a very intimate acquaintance. Dne day , while I was passing in a hur- T. I heard the two old birds uttering ries of fear and anger and , as I got last the tree one of them followed me. md by its peculiar motions and cries nduced me to turn back. I examined he nest and found the young birds all ight. looked into the tree's branches > ut saw no enemies there , and starte-T iway. Both birds then followed me vith renewed cries , and when I was a ew yards away they flew In front of ne , fluttered a moment , and then dart- d back to the tree. Then one of them ame back to me. fluttering and crying hen darted from me near to the .round . under the tree. I looked , and here lay a rattlesnake coiled ready to trikc. I secured a stick and killed urn. the wrens looking on froai the rce : and the moment I did so. th hanged their song to a livelv haDnr ne. seeming to " " say , "Thank "youl" ia very note. . A Clurltalile J > uclie < . The Duchets of Portland is an untir- 3g charity worker , and her name has ended many a list of patronesses of azaars and chtireh social affairs hile she is seven duchesses behind He Duchess of Marlborough. . she is aid to be the greatest duchess in -nslaml. - Her popularity Is somelhin emcndous As most will remember ho was MIB. Yorke. and her capturJ f the wealthy , good-looking duke was r-e of the greatest catches ever re- Jnteil in the annals of . SOS8p , tatu , * on.Jon town. She is the ao ° fifu fif ° chnrtren- The * r Tito u LI ? aS b ° rn Jn 1S a < 0 v ictorla Dorothy | a 1SOO. Skepticism. No small portion of the skepticism the present day is due to the effect t the astonishing progress of thtr mu ral and physical sciences , and to the "Presslon made by the allied , ractl- Jl arts and inventions.- ! OP