ft" ' W nt 1,1 AHapvest Canticle:. j araraja fW,A. !..., v.ivV iiML yrrww ,w . '-SB Igmvu HAT IS bounty m GVn love in n'- AW' That waits lor no plea to bestow, The evergreen boon of the river To the fields that are blessed lay Its Does the light when tho morning uncloses Count, the leagues of Its flight to the iplata? Does the sky call the roll of the roses That hold up their lips for Us rain? God Is never at loss with His plenty, And Nature, His handmaid, no more Ripens sweets for the feast of the dainty Than bread for the fare of the poor. 'Tls a loan with no burden thereafter, 'Tls a grace never measured nor weighed: If tho banquet turns weeping to laughter The debt of the eater is paid. O Goodness so grand In its doing! Arc there gluttons who starve at Us board; Craven souls, whoso Insatiable suing Has poisoned tho comforts they hoard, Who, insane with the joy of receiving, Are glad for no sake but their own, "Who are deaf to the song of thanksgiving And tongneless to utter Us tone7 Give us want, give us nothingness rather Than this; better never be born Than to harvest the fields of our Father And leave Him unthanked for the corn. The Just wll pay measure for measure And the selfish give love for a fee; But they squander an Infinite treasure Who sin against love that Is free, Theron Brown, In N. Y. Independent. fl is) Hannah's ksgivirvs , SS HANNAH LITCHFIELD'S old, gray horse took his comfort able wav alonsr the mountain rond that led from the church in the village by four miles of sandy incline up to his own slab barn. Miss Hannah, alone on the seat of her high buggy, gave an occasional flick with the whip, but in a meditative manner as though out of sbme inner mood. They were having "an uncommon spell of weather" this fall, so the old men said. It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and yet the soft haze in thenir, the quiefthrough which an occa sional drifting of ruslting leaf or over ripe nut sounded softly, made it seem more like October than a late November day. There was a faint whistle.through the sere leaves of a small weedy cornfield she was passing. The shocks were leaning as though stacked by incom petent hands. "Hope Seraph'll get her corn in be fore snow flies," Miss Hannah grum bled, hitting Tom so briskly as to sur- prise Then him into an effort at trotting, she turned her eyes resolutely away from the rickety house beyond, standing half way up a bare, stony hill, and the faded, sad-eyed woman in the door looked after her longingly, and lifted the corner of her apron to her face. "Hannah ain't ever going to forgive me," she said, weakly, to her oldest, a sickly girl of 34. "Why, what'd you do, ma?" "It's mostly 1 guess what I didn't do," was the answer. "Hannah's dreadful smart, and she hain't no jiationcc with those that ain't like her. Then your pa was sickly like you, and died, and she didn't like that; though I can't for the life of me see how he was to blame. He couldn't help it. Hut Hannah called him lazy. And we owe her, too, you know." "Should think we did," broke in a boy of 12. "Don't we have to most kill ourselves every year picking berries to pay the old interest. Wait till I get to be a man and I'll pay oil' her $200; see if I don't." "I guess you will, Benny," said his mother, admiringly. The boy's ambi tions were a never-failing wonder to his mother and sister. "Ma, did you knowwext Thursday is Thanksgiving day?" asked a younger boy. "What difference does that make to us?" was the mother's weary rejoinder. "It's many a year since I've seen a Thanksgiving day. I guess the Lord's forgotten us, or else we're too bad for Him to care for. I don't know what we've done, for sure. Mebbe it's like Hannah. He hain't no patience with folks that's down and good for nothing. Anyway, He hain't thought of us in a good while." Miss Hannah, going on her way, might have been shocked if she had heard these sentiments from the lips of her cousin Seraph. She always went to church, ruin or shine, although old WWnJ.TI- fl Y-Ay w .i-f1 r s nvir eHvaB c'? Capt. Skinner said "Miss Hannah could hear the greatest amount of sermons, and not one of them stick to her any more than water to a duck's back." Yet he would have been mistaken this time. "There's no use talking," had been the sturdy words that had pricked through her armor of selfishness, "of keeping Thanksgiving unless you've got the Lord's love in your hearts, and let it run over, as Ho did, toward those around you. And you never can make a sure thing of it while you cherish an unforgiving feeling for a human soul, or hold back a hand that ought to be stretched for a human need. The Lord will never accept any halt or half-way sacrifice. Go to your knees, and then work to see what you can bring Him." Now Miss Hannah had "kept Thanks giving," as she said, for the 20 years that she had been left nJone on the small, rocky, mountain form. Every year this had been well tilled and cared for, and brought in suflieiet for her moderate needs, and a little to place in the bank against the rainy day of old age and infirmities. For tins she had sat down to her solitary board, where a stuffed rooster with cranberry sauce and vegetables and pumpkin and apple pie were spread, and gave thanks. She never thought of going further than herself. When her cousin Seraph, who had been the only companion of her lonely childhood, had married, against her express wish, "that shiftless Joe Parker,7' she simply "let her go her own way." The neighbors called her "hard," and so she was. What was the matter to day? She was growing old SO last midsummer. Perhaps ner minu was weakening. She had never noticed before how lonely the small, weather-stained house looked as she turned in at her own gate. How would' it seem to have a face smiling a welcome from the win dow or some one watching at the door? She '"put up" Tom, made her cup of tea and ate her cold ham and bread, but it did not refresh her. "That black rooster'll weigh seven pounds if he does an ounce," she re marked to herself, "and I suppose I'll have him; though what on earth, Han nah Litchfield, you're talking about 'AIN'T YOU GOING TO INVITE keeping Thanksgiving for, I can't see.' You haven't got a bit of it in your heart, and you know you haven't. You are a hard, lonesome old woman, and roos ters, nor turkeys either, can't help that. You don't love anybody but yourself, and may the Lord help you! I'm a pretty halt and poor thing to offer, but 1 guess I'll have to give up, and let Him lead me awhile," she whispered softly with the fading shadows, and then came peace. The next morning Miss Hannah was up betimes, and her small washing waved in the earliest breeze. That was nothing unusual, but the trip that she took with Tom, soon after, was more so. There was a smile as she passed the rickety house and weedy cornfield, but no stop until they reached the town poorhouse, standing bare and unshut tered, on its bleak hillside. "I want you to go home with me, Cynthy Ann, and stay awhile," Miss Hannah said to u gentle, faded little woman who came stifliy to meet her. "Are you willing?" "The Lord be praised!" was the an swer given through tears. "He knew 'twas hard trusting Him in this place, so He's going to brighten it up forme." "And you are not coming back again, not while I live," Miss Hannah said, as they wound their way among the hills. "You can't exactly be said to be a rela tive, though my grandfather's wife was your step-grandfather's sister. But it's been given to me to see that it's nigh enough relation for the Lord to find a duty in it. And, Cynthy Ann, now thut '" I'm getting old and gray, I guess it'a about time for me to bo looking up my duties," she admitted, grimly. That was all tho confession Miss Han nah could bo expected to make. Her nature would bo one rather to do than to talk. And all that day and the two follow ing the small, tidy house Vltnessed such life and activity aB it had not seen for mnny a year. "It seems too good to be true," Cyn thy Ann said that afternoon, as she sat by the window looking down the wind ing, stony road, placidly stoning raisins. scolding, and a getting ready for a Thanksgiving dinner. 1 haven't seen one, no nor smclled one and I think the smell's most ns good as the eating, don't you, Hannah? in 20 years." "I've smclled them in that time," re turned Miss Hannah shortly, "but that's as deep as it went, 1 guess. I mean to feel it this time." "Let me pick that rooster, Hannah," Cynthy Ann said the next morning as the devoted bird took a hot water bath. "It's just what I'm fit for, a sittin' down job. And it makes me think of ma, more'n 50 years ago, and how Bhe'd say: 'Now. Cynthy Ann, you may look out the pin feathers, and mind you don't leave one large enough for grandma's sharpest glasses To sjiy.' Ah, I knew what -good times meant in those days!" "Well, it does seem good, 1 must say," said Miss Hannah, setting the fowl and some old pans beside her companion, "to have somebody interested in what's going on and to speak a word back to you. It's dreadful lonesome when you bay something bright not to have a soul to know it. Well now, you feather him, and I'll go right to stirring up mince meat and making those pies. They're better, I think, kept a few days, don't you? And Pll put on the cranberries and let 'cm stew slow and all down to jelly. Some folks just cook 'em up like apple sass and leave it. Hah! 'Tain't fit to eat. Folks tiscd to know how to cook, Cynthy Ann at Thanksgiving time anyway." Amid this unusual ripple of talk a small boy made his appearance, with wondering eyes, and nose tilted high as though to take up all the savory odors that filled the kitchen air. "Oh, it's you, is it. Henny?"Miss Han nah said, peering over her glasses. SERAPH AND HER FAMILY?" "Yes'm," the boy returned promptly, holding out a grimy envelope. "Here, ma sent you your int'rest," and then his eyes wandered to the .steaming pies just placed on the table, with a look that told how his boyish mouth watered for them. Miss Hannah drew her second pair of glasses down from her forehead to their proper position, and, opening the en velope, counted the money. "Three twos is six, and four ones and six make ten, and two silver ones make 12." Then she counted it over, begin ning with the silver this time. "It's all right," she announced then, slipping the envelope into her pocket. "You can go now, and tell your ma so. Here, you jean have an apple to eat on the way," and the boy with n scant thank you," slowly backed out the door, beginning, however, a quick run as soon as he wu3 outside the gate. "Seraph'll hear all about it now," Miss Hannah said to herself. But some way the work went on more quietly after this. The truth was, the timid little Cynthy Ann was making up her mind to the doing of a disagreeable duty. "Hannah," she broke out at last, "ain't you going to invite Seraph and her family here to Thanksgiving? You and I can't ever eat all this stun'." "I'm thinking of it. yes," was tho answer that almost took her breath away. "Oh, I knew it! I knew you would, ITaunnh! You're too good to hold spite longer." -i- i-A " No, I ain't, npt a bit ; but I told you, didn't I, that the Lord was a leading mo to see duties. 1 ain't no believer in signs and things, Cynthy Ann," MIms Hannah went on after n little, "but last Sunday, I'm free to toll you, I was troubled in my mind beyond anything I remember before, even when I was converted, and I asked the Lord for a sign; and then I put my finger in tho Bible and opened it, and what I read was, in Deuteronomy, like this: that If there was a poor man nmong our brethren, or needy, we was to open our hnnd and to give to him. And now I don't dare do anything else, you see," and Miss Hannah really looked relieved at this "confession of faith." "The Lord Vic praised!" ejaculated Cynthy Ann; it seemed to be a way of hers. "Have you invited them yet?" "No," curtly. "Oh! wouldn't they enjoy thinking of II, and kind of getting ready?" she uiged, timidly. "CynthyAnn,"nndMisslInnnah spoke slowly, "I do not think best to make it too easy and pleasant. Sarah was a member, and she had no right to morry a man who wasn't. She must suffer for her sin still. I shall not invite her until Wednesday afternoon." If we could imagine an "avenging angel," with thin, gray hair drawn into a tight pug, two pair of spectacles pushed high on forehead, and lips set close, Miss Hannah might have served for the character at that moment. Hut in spite of herself she grew gentler with every hour until Thanksgiving. One cannot cherish love in the heart with out its showing, of course. It was like the asters Seraph's youngest girl brought, all the choicer for being so late. For they all came, of course, shabby but clean and hungry. "The four chil dren really seemed hollow, clear to their boots," as Miss Hannah said afterward. But that was after she had had the pleasure of fillinir them up. Then when they had gone out into the soft Indian summer for a play, the three elders drew their chairs together, and talked, at first hesitantly, then more and more earnestly, drifting back to the days of their childhood and youth, when they, too, had dreamed and hoped and planned. And as they talked the tones grew softer, sometimes even tremulous. "I should have prayed to die long ago," the sad-eyed mother said, "if it hadn't been for the children. 1 ain't of much use to them though. Nothing but an old string that holds them together." "I nm not even an old string," Miss Hannah said, "but Sereph, I'll join myself to you after this, and we'll tie together," and then some way, the two wrinkled hands came together in a long clasp; and then, presently, there was slipped from one to the other, the same grimy envelope Benny had brought. "I never meant to keep it," Miss Han nah said. "Get a comfortable shawl, or shingles, or anything. And the note, Seraph; see; it won't ever trouble you any more," and lifting the stove lid, Miss Hannah laid oh the coals a yellow pi' per, that both watched shrivel to ashes. "You see, Seraph, I'm bound to have one real Thanksgiving while I'm in the ilcsli; and ever since tasked the Lord nbout it, He seems to open the way wider and wider, till 1 'most feel as though 1 should be a singer yet and a player of instruments, I'm getting so full". Cynthy Ann's going to stay, so I'll have a face looking out of the window for me, and that Buth of yours must have some doctoring; and Benny's bright and will pay for schooling; and Sammy, too; and as for little Katy well she's jus as cunning as need be. Think of her bringing me a bouquet. Out of her own head, too. Seraph, I guess you've seen your worst days. When the Lord really calls on Hannah Litchfield to help do a thlifg, she usually expects to hold up her end to the best of her ability. And she's going to now." The voices dropped into silence. The short day was dying in the west in a Hush of golden glory, through which the sun sent back his rosy promises of another perfect coming. The children came through the gate and up the walk. "And I shall call her Aunt Hannah," little Katy was piping in her childish treble, " 'cause she's just the sweetest l.idy I 'most ever see." "Sweetest!" and Miss Hannah's lip curled scornfully, then gently softened into a smile. "Well, let her think so. The Lord and a little child may make her so yet. The' have done many a miracle in this world." The flush in the west deepened to purple, then faded into a somber gray. The mountain side was lost in shadows. The children, tired with play, dropped down on the broad door stone and talked softly. And within, three women, worn and weary in many a bat tle of life, sat close together, and each heart sent up n voice of thanksgiv ing for the gifts of Love the day had brought. Howe Benning, in Chicago Advance. TliunliNKTlvliitt. The treasures of the harvest time Are heaped In goodly store; Earth lays her trlbuto at our feet In plentcousness onpe more. The hearth Is swept, tho board Is spread For friends ftom far and near, And loving hearts are hasting home, l'erhai's In many a year. , Oh. 'tis the true Thanksgiving time When round the old hearthstone We greet the loved of other days, And clasp hands with our own! Elizabeth A. Davis, In Golden Days. BATHING AND HEALTH. Olcnnllncim JMcnn Much More Thau m White Sktn. If wc have the authority of Soriptuna for the Btatemcnt that cleanliness next to godliness, and if godliness 1a means to health, happiness, prosperity, long life and final sahation, wc cor readily understand the sentiment of tho philosopher who uttered those true, end comprehensive words. Cleanliness in its broadest sense means much more than the state produced by the free use of soap and water. In point of fact, soap and wntcr, however lavishly used, may not constitute a gcnulno bath. Many persons rarely if ever get more than what the back country women, calls "cat washes," or tho "lick and tho promise" that many a busy housemoth er frequently gives to her children. The surf nee of the body is covered with, numberless pores that are in ns urgent need of clearing out aB arc all other de positories for foreign matter. Whether it, bo the dust of the street, the Bmoke ond grimo of shop or factory, tho im palpable powder that is ground by rest less feet out of carpets, mattings and wood floors, or tho imperceptible dust of tho ntmosphcre, matters little. Tho pores of the skin arc filled with mate rial that must bo removed in some way if one would enjoy good health. To at tempt to clcor out these llttlo cells by tho use of soap and cold water 1b a hopeless undertaking. Tho cleansing process must come from within, and this can only be accomplished by start ing the perspiration, which, accumulat ing in the tiny ductB back of the pores, force out the dust collected thene. In view of the fact that cold Iiob a ten dency to closo the pores, it is difficult to understand why some eminent au thorities advocate only cold baths nnd seem incapable of giving any credit to tho use of hot water. Of course there aro differences in temperament, con stitution and condition, and most per sons who have reached years of discre tion have been compelled to ndmititho truth of the adage: "What is one man's meat is another man's poison." There arc undoubtedly many people who nre greatly benefited by the use of cold wa ter indeed, no one questions its valuo as a remedial agent. But as a bath, agent and elennser it is most valuable when used after hot water. The Turk ish bath is the ideal means for cleansing not only the outer covering of the body, but also the entire system. There are manj' diseases that ore greatly relieved or entirely cured by inducing prof-use perspiration. Scientists tell us that it ' is an cosy matter for the experienced bacteriologists to diagnose a cose by cxrminlng the perspiration. The dis ease germs pour out of the skin and nre by the expert as readily recognized an aiiy other living creatures. For perfect health ond the very best hygienic con ditions a bath as hot as can be tnken with comfort should be indulged in at, least twice a week. Plenty of fine toilet soap and a section of Turkish toweling, or what is much better o-piccc of u Japanese gourd, should be used freely. These gourds, which are fibrous nnd spongy, arc sold at the druggists and arc the best wash rags In existence. The individual should remain in the hot bath until the sensation of being "com pletely cooked through" is experienced. The first indication of the time to stop comes in the shnpe of a fullness and beating in the throat. As soon as this is felt, open the outlet in the bath tub and turn on cold water through it pipe at tuclicd to o sprinkler. Use thfs shower both until the Btirfnce of skin is com fortably cool and a reaction takes place. Then wrap the entire body in a thick bath robe and take half on hour's sleep if possible. The Blumber which follows such treatment is most refreshing. Those who have studied bathing for many years acknowledge that this is unquestionably the best method of. bathing. N. Y. Ledger. Apple Suet l'lidillnHT. Chop very fine one quarter pound of beef suet; slice into the chopping bowl four sour apples. Chop through once or twice nnd shake over a little flour. Stir with a silver knife nnd mix all to gether. Put one teaspoon baking pow der and a little salt into n cup of flour. Break one egg Into the bowl with the apples and suet. Sift In the flour and moisten with milk. If the apples are very sour add a teaspoonful of sugar with tho flour. Make the hotter quite thick. Pour Into n well greoscd steam er anu steam tnrce nours. oaucc one half cup butter, two thirds cup sugar. Cream together, and, when the sugar iB dissolved, odd the white of one egg. Beat hard and odd one-half teaspoon of vanilla. Set on ice, and, when serving the pudding, put one spoonful on each slice of hot pudding. This is our fnvor ite pudding, and is the nicest I ever make. Boston Globe. Proper Ten I'ourlngr. There is an etiquette of tea-pouring which Is strictly observed by our Eng lish cousins. The first cups are offered to the older guests and guests of honor since these first cups are Aveakest, while the latter brews are considered less palatable, and are served to the children. However, we Americans pre fer frankly asking eacli guest whether the liquid is liked strong or weak which is the simpler and better plan, Bince -to many feminine the first cup is decidedly "washy" and a real affile tion. Leisure Hours. Endless leather belts, acting as mov ing staircases, convey the patrons of a large Parisan store from one floor tc smother.