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
