> DRAWINO NEAR THE LIOHT.
i',1? Lo. when vre wr.do the tangled wool,
f.V ■ _ If hnde and hurry to bo there,
!},' Nought aoom It* loaves ami blossoms food,
Jw ttll that they bo fashioned fair.
But look up, at lost, wo see
ifi, The glimmer of the open light,
From o’er the place where we would bo
v' lT.cn grow the very brumbies bright.
,V--; So now, amid our dnv of strife.
With many a matter did wo play,
When oneo wo see the light of life
i.- ’ Gloam Urn. ugh the tangle of to-day.
—Ilxton Bcucon.
fCv
; ■
The
nv
Actor’s Story.
JOHN (OM.Tin.
CHAPTER VII—OoN’TiN’CEix
Ono day Klspcth M'Dlnrmid and
her husband came over to f,oe how ho
wai getting on. Tito old woman had
brought him a handful of primroses
which »ho had plucked herself from
the burnsido.
Although ho hud uo actual ro'olloo
tion of her. some liner instinct, whlen
took the placo of memory, drew him
toward her. and ho said. ••Kiss mo.
mother." As she did sot Elspeth’s
heart stirred within her ut the
thought of her hoy lighting in tho
wild Mahratla wars far a wav. and a
tear foil on tho lad’s brow ns sho
turned from him in silence. As sho
was leaving the Infirmary with handy
whom should she encounter at the
door but Jamieson, who had just re
turned from rehearsal. ’^andy,
Sandyl" the old woman said, or rattier
screamed. -Look at tho laddie the
bonnio laddie! 1 ha'e seen him thrico
by day and .thrice by nicht front to
front wi' yon uiucitie beast with tho
f . corbies beak, and tho ovi! een. Ynnce
(. in tho kickynrd. ynnce in tho glen,
an’ynneo In the granite street. Twice
afoot and ynnce u horseback—yanee
.¥j,r band to hand—yanco wi' the bluidy
brand t' tho air. I soo them the noo
>' —and it's ayo the snmo by day and
'4 Dlchu Ohi Ay! Ay: Oh! I’vo ureod
i my weird!" And down she fell. Willie
came up to help her. and whon sho
recovered, which sho did very soon,
bo inquired of the old man the mean
... »lng of this extraordinary scene. .»
-Why. you see. sir," said Sandy, i
•the guldwife has a wee bit of second ;
sight. It bus been in tho bluid of
her forbears for generations, an she's !
just mixed him wi'. our nin Donald,
who's in the Black Watch licliling out
yoo'er for tbo queen, tied b!e-s her."'
Jamieson s curiosity was aroused,
so he told tho old people that ho was
t.'urly’s friend and brother, coa.tod
• them into Ills lodgings, got thorn to
cat au<l drink, and them in the full
ness of their hearts, they told him
all they knew of tbo business tho oth
: • or side o' tho water, and their sus
picions about Deeinpster. It seems
- that in soma abnormal condition of
k J trance or vision the old woman had
|f seen Struthmines strike the blow at
Curly. At any rata her recognition
; of Willie whom she had never seen
be ora was to sav tho ioast of it very
strange, and her premonition of tome
J . coming encounter betweeu him and
•f; Deeinpster was stranger stiiL When j
they parted, her last words were:
-Beware the white horse and the :
whip—tho whip with tho thong at tho
|i tail an* tho prongs o’ buckthorn ut
the head. Striko first and strike
, banjo laddie!”
That was the first and the last Wil
lie saw of Elspeth M'Diarmid and her
husband, but be bad occasion to re
member her words later on.
CHAPTER VIII.
Farting of Orestes and Pylade*
f Curly’s recovery now was a mere
| question of time. One day Dr. Dixon
•aid to Jamieson:
-I think your friend may leave tho
hospital in a week or so but you must
be very cnrerul with him. Above all
thlogs keep him fiom drink. I fear
ho has a tendency that way. and any
outburst of that description may prove
; fatal; certainly to bis reason, proba
p bly to his life! Keep him from it. for
¥ God’s sake!"
-With God's help I'll do my bost”
•aid Wiliio.
A
'i'i
w
PS
;V
H
At tneend or the week he took his
poor friend to hi* lodgings. . and
tended him at it indeed vho
had been the little brother
he had lost to long ago. Aa for Cur
ly. be accompanied Willie dally to
rehearsal, vent with him at night to
the theatre, assisted him to dross
followed him to the winga trotted
$ about after him like a dog. It was
more beautiful to note the devotion
of these men to each other—more
beautiful and more touching even
than the love of woman.
Warned by former experience
Jamieson was careful never again to
refer to Flora and Curly never even
mentioned her name so hoaceforth
the subjeet was tabooed between
them. As to what passod through
that tortured brain and wounded
heart none knew but God himself.
Let us hope that God helped him to
bear his burden.
Dr. Dixon was unremitting in his
attentions but be was stern in his
discipline and wouldn't permit his
patient any stimulant beyond a pint
of light claret and two or three
whiffs of tobacco daily. Of course
Willie had to fall into the same re
gime to set a good example Curly
had never smoked before and the
nicotine weed soothed him exceed
ingly. At first ho dreaied the idea
of acting again. but as ho continued
to gain health and strength a desire
grew upon him to play for Willie's
••benefit'’ He kept the notion to
himsolf for some time; at last he took
courage and asked l>ixon if be
thought be might venture to net.
This wns exactly the healthful stimu
lant that the doctor desired, and be at
(once ' gave permission. Curly raa
over the stare a boy once more
caught Willie by both hands, and
hugged him us he exclaimed:
"i.ook here old man. I’ve got a
surprise for you The doctor says I
a>a<i> act for your bcneQu lTease
may I play some llttio part—some
thing like CLarlci hU friend?""
£:
•• "Charles, his friend* bo hanged!"
replied Willie. •So. you shall play
Charles, my brother.’ We’ll do the
■School for Scandal * eh. doctor? Do
you think it will be too much for
him?"
••Deuce n bit ” ropliod Dixon.
1'rom this moment Curly got better
and better.
At longth the night of the benefit
arrived. Willie’s own abundant pop
ularity. tho romantic interest sur
rounding Curly’s first appearance, and
tho known attachment of tho two
young fellows to each- other, com
bined to mako this night tho event of
the season. The houso was full to
ovcrllowing. tho musicians were
crowded out by tho pitlitoa the over
ture was played on tho stage. After
the first act tho poor orchestra was
I actually sent up to the ••IIins. ' then
j tho box peoplo wore driven behind
i the scenes, tend there they stood In
the wings in sight of the audience,
i At length, in the last scene, tho sluge
j itself was more than half tilted, as m
j tho old Elizabethan times, with the
i elilo of the place, and when the tag
i was spoken, hail it not been for the
; costumes, it would have been impos
1 sible to distinguish the actors from
j tho audience. Curly never a'CjUittcd
himself better, lie had taken a new
lease of life—his careor was ubout to
begin afresh. Willie, loot had dis
tinguished himself admirably—indeed
the comedy altogether was a great
success, i’eople crowded round the
brothers and began to congratulate
them.
‘J’he performance was destined to
form an epoch in the lives of the
young actors. it so happened
that that very night the
managers of tho Royal theatre.
Drury Lane. and of the Theatre
Royal Edinburgh, were amongst the
auditors Noxt morning Curly re
ceived an offer for tho ensuing season
at Drury i,nne. and Willie was en
gaged as principal tragedian for the
Theatre Royal Edinburgh. A month
afterwards they took leave df their
doar old manager with many pro
testations of gratitude for past kind
nesses and went on their way to
their respective engagements travel
ing as fur us Edinburgh together.
Before the coach started for London
Willie thrust a, handful of coin upon
Curly, it was half tho amount of
thn Dundee benefit The latter ob
jected as ho had a fow pounds left
but the other would take uo denial,
and so. with aching hearts and tear
ful eyes Orestes ana Tyladcs parted.
CHAPTER IX.
Auld Reekie.
To bo principal tragedian In the
metropolis of his native land was a
groat honor for Jamieson, and the lit
tle dingy theatre which stood at tho
foot of ihe North Bridge, on the site
now occupied by tho general postof
fico appeared to his unsophisticated
mind a palatial temple of tho drama.
When he reported himself to the
manager that gentleman was dignified
and even autocratic in demeanor.
Alt ho vouchsafed to say at tho tlrst
intorview was:
••Kindly report yoprself to the stage
manager, sir. and he will Introduce
you to the green room. The young
man looked a little blank at this cool
reception, but wisely remembering
tho old adage; ••When at Home do as
tho Romans do." bo bowed himself
out and sought the stage manager.
He found that worthy intrenched at
his table on the stage, surrounded by
the prompter, tho call boy, the scene
pa nter, the carpenter, the property
man etc. The moment was not pro
pitious for an introduction, so Willie
biding his time, waiting in the
prompt entrance; tho quick eye of
the pompous official spotted him out.
however, and without ceremony he
desired to know “What the stranger
wanted.” ••Tho-strangor" did not want
self-respect, and he introduced him
self. Mr. R. had been an officer in
the army, and was a martinet. He
rose however, bowed atifliy, and ex
tending two fingers snorted, -Glad
to torm your acquaintance sir. This
way. if you please." So saying he
led tho way.
As they approached, they heard the
sound of pleasaDt voices and ripples
of laughter, hut when poor Willie
and his escort entered the green-room
i (so-called because there was nothing
j green in it, except occasionally some
1 verdant youngster) it might have been
I a Quaker's meeting house. There
1 were about twenty gentlemen and
i t«a or twelve ladles of all ages and
, complexions all more or less stylish
I persona Mr. 1J—merely said. ’-Ladies
| and gentlemen, permit me to intro
duce a gentleman who has come to
I join us—Mr. Jamieson, from the
| Theatre KoyaL Dundee." Every one
bowed coldly, none more coldly than
the new-comer. The captain retired,
and left Jamieson to make his wav as
best he could. Evidently ‘the
greenroom was not disposed
to offer him a cordial welcome.
Theaters are very conservative insti
tutiona *and the corps dramatique
regarded the stranger as an inter
loper. and a possible trespasser on
* -vested interests."
There was a dead silence. At last
one insolent young puppy, an incip
ient comedian who had been taking
| stock of Jamieson through his eye
I glass, superciliously remarked:
I ’-Dundee! Hal h’m! There is such a
j place somowhere. I believe it is
j devoted entirely to the manufacture
; of marmalade." •
j ’-Not entirely," replied Willie.
\ "They manufacture men there occa
sionally.”
••Men sir?” echoed Young Hopeful.
"Yes. and very good men, ton"
; continued Willie, with inperturbable
i gravity; "but they don't venture to
compete with tho metropolis of tho
! country in tho manufacture of pup
j pies." And turning on his heel, he
left the room. The roar of laughter
j which followed his exit told him that
his first shot had struck home,
j After that ttie fast young men ‘dot
him severely alone.” and the other
membors of the company. finding he
was ds modest And unassuming as he
could be pugnacious when the occa
sion warranted, began to thaw, be
came communicative and finally re
ceived him with cordiality.
Every day. and every night he
visited the greenroom for a week or
ten days, but no sign of his name
uppeared in any of the casta At last
up went ••Tho Miller and His Mea ”
and he found himself down for Grind
off. Then Master Willie did a very
rude thing, •■llefore all Israel” ho
smashed the pano of glass in the cast
case, took out the cast of ••The Miller
and His Men." tore it in pieces put
it in the fire and stirred it up with
tho poker.
lmagioo if you can tho consterna
tion of the court of ht. Petersburg
upon beholding Ivan Ivanovitseh.
ensign in the imperial guard. walking
into the awful presence of the auto
crat of all the Russia* and. tearing
up. under Uls very nose. the last im
perial ukase. Then you may form
some idea of the consternation of the
Edinburgh greenroom at this act or
unparalleled audacity. At this mo
ment the singe manager entered to
put up the call for tho rehearsal of
••The Miller and His Men’’ on the
following day. The gallant captain
was as much astonished us the rest
when Jamieson said, very quietly.
••You can spare yourself tho trouble
of putting up that call captain: I
shall not be here. Make my compli
ments to Mr. M-and say I don't
play Grindoffs, or melodramatic
ruffians of that description. It was
distinctly understood that I was to
open in Hamlet and I open in that
part and no other. If I don't hear
from you before II o'clock to-morrow
morning I'm off to London by the
mail Good-evening, sir; good even
ing. ladies and gentlemen.” The
moment be left the room the place
wassail alive with eagerness and ex
pectation. •
Old M-ruled his people with a
rod of iron. The means of commun
ication with England were so few.
and tho journeys so expensive that
the majority of tho company had to
grin and bear the managerial caprice,
however unjust it might be. No one
as yet had the pluck to 1 bell the cal"
hence everybody regnrded Willie as
tho champion of tho company.
Tho stage munager pulled his white
mustache.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
MUTUAL CONFIDENCE.
The Importance of Teaching Children to
Speak the Truth.
The perfect confidence between
mother and child which should exist
will not continue if tho child finds
1 that tho mother's promises or threuts
j aro unfulfilled, says tho Orange Judd
| Farmer. If a child is told that unless
j he sits still while guests aro present
j he will bo punished when they are
\ gone, and then this Is not usually
done as promised, or as is often the
j case the punishment is deferred until
! the promise is forgotten, the offender
will naturally soon form a habit of dis- !
1 obedience which it is almost impossible
to break. There is a criminal habit
of affixing a penalty for wrong doing
which is illy proportioned to tho
I offense. For example: "If you do so
j and so I will cut off your ears.” or
I the like, done with the intention
of forcing instant obedience, is apt
j to lead to just the opposite effect Be
sides destroying the confidence of
j children in the parent they will
I soon diverge farther and farther from
I truthfulness, and s- y and do things
j which they Know to be wrong with
I out reflecting on tho consequences.
| No one. especially no mother, should
ever make a promise to a child which
she does not expect to fully carry out
Children are so impressible in all
their younger years that their lives
reflect tho influences of those about
them. If lying and deceit are prac
ticed towards them, they will soon
imbibe the baneful Influence*, and all
their after lives may bear the painful
impress of this early teaching.
Aftklntf too ITluch.
Said Judge Duffy to a convicted
malefactor:
••It has been proven that you
burglarized a house, stole a ham, and
forged another man's name to a
note."
"May be so."
••You have also been sailing under
the false name ot Smith, McMullen.
Goodrich and Perkins while you were
committing your crimes."
• Well judge you needn’t expect
me to allow my own honest name to
be mentioned in connection with such
villainies and dragged through the
mire"—Texas Siftings.
Short on Suspenders.
Countryman—By gosh, them sus.
ponders air too short They pull my
pants up so tight I can't work my
legs. Haven't you got longer suspen
ders?
Mose Schaumburg—Mine fren. you
vash mistaken. Dose susbenders vash
de longest kind imborted goots. You
keep dose susbenders, und sboost you
puys for dree dollar und a half a bair
of banta vat comes down more on
der ground, und dot vill fit dose im
broted braces. —Texas Siftings.
The Force or Habit.
Foreman of Boiler Shop—The work
men is all kickin' on the new man.
He makes too much noise at his work
Superintendent—Well I suppose
we'll have to fire him. I was afrai’d
of that too It shows that habit is
everything.
Foreman—Why. what did he do
before you hired him?
Superintendent—lie was a hotel
waiter.
A Mere Matter of Justice.
• But doctor, don’t you think your
bill is pretty steep?"
••Nu madam, considering how sick
your husband was."'
••But dear me, you let him die."
• Of course I did. There’s the dif
ficulty. It hurts my professional rep
utation to have a patient die. 1
plight to have more money for a case
ot that kind.’’—Texas Siftings. -
r ... . . ■ ... -• * ■ .•%
FARM AND HOUSEHOLD.
A GOOD AND SIMPLE RATION
FOR A STOCK BOAR. '
Skim Milk and Meal Ration—How to
liaise Turkey*—Getting Ready for
Harvest—Teaches on Heavy Soil—
Dairy Items—Household Helps*
Feeding a Stock Boar.
Tho food for a stock boar is not an
rlaborate ration, which only the fow
! may use. It is very simple; the op
I positu of that mysterious complexity
| which many are apt to associate with
| successful feeding. The individual
j selected for stock purposes will havo
I learned to eat nicely before ho is
taken from tho sow. Ho will then
| be put in quarters which are notcon
j tir.od.
| When from 10 to 12 weeks old,
says a Canadian writer, tho follow
ing rations will cause him to thrive
admirably if it can be secured for
him. viz: a good supply of skim milk,
; with a meal ration composed of one
| part ground rye, seven parts green
j peas and sixteen parts shorts. Tho
! meal may with profit be stirred
j into the milk and fed In the form of
gruel. When skim milk or butter
j milk cannot be had slops from tho
J house may bo used; where peas can
I not bo had substitute corn, and
■ whero shorts cannot be obtained use
i ground, oats.
' The* relative proportions of the
i grain substituted will remain the
same. Along with this ration green
food should bo used in summer, such
as clover, peas and, in fact, anything
in tho form of vegetation in a green
and succulent condition. In winter
some green food may be supplied in
the form of roots or corn ensilage.
The ringing of the boar should be de
ferred as long as he remains tract
able. The exercise of rooting will be
good for him while he is developing.
If ho should he inclined to get too fat
the peas or corn ration may be re
duced, but this is not likely to take
place whore he is allowed plenty of
freedom.,
Y\ hen he is well developed the
same ration essentially in kind may
bo given him, but house slops will
answer in lieu of tho skim milk. A
tablespoon ful of ground oil cake
given three or four times a week has
a good influence upon the digestive
organs, and now and then some char
coal or charred corn is thought to act
beneficially. In time of severe use
the food should be made stronger,
but great care should be taken to
avoid an over-fatty condition of the
system.
When the boar is kept strong and
vigorous, and in good condition a9 to
thrift, but yet not overloaded with
fat, the results are likely to prove
most satisfactory. It is equally hurt
ful to rush tho growth of tho boar on
too rapidly when he is young, or to
hinder it by feeding him too lightly.
When conditions thus natural aro
observed, and when tho services re
quired are not undue, the usefulness
of the boar will continue for several
vears.
Getting Ready for Harvest,
After a crop is grown it is quite
i.n item to harvest at the time and in
the manner best calculated to save in
the best possible condition. With
some crops like hay and small grain a
very little delay will often make a
very serious difference in the quality*
of the product, and of course in the
the value, as the quality with all
farm products is the measure of
value. The majority of. farmers
reasonably expect to work a little
harder during harvest than at almost
any other season but even this will
not answer to always secure the best
results unless proper care is taken to
prepare ahead so that the work Canute
pushed ahead and the full advantage
be secured of the extra work.
.ine cultivated crops should be put
In a good condition so that they will
keep growing while the harvesting
ia going on. This should be done
even if it is necessary to hire a little
extra help. Generally help will cost
less before than during harvest, and
if the hiring of extra help in cultivat
ing will lessen the necessity of hiring
help during harvest it will be good
economy to do so.
As a large part of the work of har
vesting is done by machinery it is a
very important item to have what is
needed on hand and in good working
order in good season. If new ma
chinery has to be purchased look after
it in good time. It is poor economy
to wait until the wheat is ripe or the
hay ready to cut before purchasing
the binder or mower. If you have
these and other machinery on hand
then see that they are in good work
ing order. Go over them and tighten
lip all bolts or screws. If any of the
working parts have got rusted rub
or clean with coal-oiL It never pays
to start into harvesting a crop of any
kind with a machine that is liable to
break down at any time. Better re
pair before harvest begins than stop
i after it has fairly commenced.
After a certain stage of ripeness
I has been reached a very little delay
| will often lower the quality very
materially, if the binder is used for
: wheat and oats be sure of the twine
1 needed in good season. Have plenty
. of good oil. It is poor economy to
| use anything else but the best, and a
' good supply should bo secured in
i good season. Kvery item that will
save time should be looked after and
every advantage taken to secure in
the best condition. With a good
outfit of machinery a considerable
acreage of wheat and grass can bo
handled in a short time and at a
reasonable expense; but if done to
the best advantage it is very
necessary that everything bo ready
in good season so that the work can
be pushed. Ordinarily there will be
•nough to hinder without taking the
chances on anything that can be
avoided-—-Journal of Agriculture.
How to BmlM Turkeys.
Gather the eggs before they get
chilled, keep in not too cool nor too,
warm a place in the light. Turn
them over once a day, that is to the
other side from the side they lie on.
Treated this way they will all be
likely to hatch. Keep. the eggs till
the hens all commence to set, if it is
not too long, then set your tamest
hen with ten or fifteen eggs, and if
you want the others to lay again you
will set the balance of eggs under
chickens; but the turkey hens would
bo the best. Try to get them all set
the same week if you can.
j ii your chickens have gapes your
I turkeys will have them worse. The
best way—and it is a sure way—is to
j keep them on a board floor well cov
i ered. Have it made so that if the
j hen does get out the young turkeys
! can’t, and give them all to one tur
! key hen. Have four or five inches of
| old hayseed chaff all over the floor.
If it is cool weather it must be kept
as warm as possible, and if it is warm
weather the sunlight must get in
the greater part of the day. Keep
them in till six weeks old, then when
you put them out choose a day that
is not too hot or it will kill them.
Watch them for the first two or
three days.
Until they are quite a good sizo
when it comes a rain I always drive
them up and put them in coop, and
keep them in coops till the dew is
dried off mornings. Until they are
six days old feed them nothing but
this: Beat up three or four eggs like
you would for custard in a pan, then
add four tablespoonfuls of sweet milk
for each egg, then set in the baker.
Don't cook too fast or let it get
brown. This makes a tough food
like custard, and after you have fed
this for six or seven days mix corn
bread with it until they get used to
the bread, then leave the custard out
and feed them bread for awhile.
Then feed them just a little smear
case, make it real wet. Change the
last two named feeds as often as you
can. Spread an old oil cloth or car
pet on the chaff and no feed will be
wasted or get dirty. Be sure not to
give water unless it is warmed, and
not more than what could make one
half teaspoonful to each one. But
you can give them a pint of warm,
sweet cream, and if they get it all
over them so much the better. Every
morning cut up s8me grass and plover
fine, put in also a pan of ashes and
one of gravel. If they are not shut
up and they get to the water they
will kill themselves before they will
quit drinking. Keep on feeding the
bread and cheese till they are big
enough to eat corn, but never feed
raw meal, and the troublo is over.—
National Stockman.
Dairy* Items.
Good calves can be raised cheaper
than they can be bought.
A person, known to always make a
good quality of butter has no trouble
in selling it at tho best figures.
If *a person who milks with dirty
hands would reflect a little he would,
or at least should be ashamed of him
* self.
Where there is q regular market
for butter at a good price it will pay
to feed the cow bran, etc., during the
summer.
No matter how good a milker the
cow may be, she will become a poor
milker unless sho is fed and cared for
properly.
To have good milk it must be prop
erly cared for in its early stages. It
will soon sour unless quickly cooled
after milking.
A man after establishing a reputa
tion as a grower of good dairy cows
ought to make it pay raising cows to
sell to dairymen.
Household Helps,
Spirits of camphor will remove
white spots from furniture.
Mustard or celery rubbed on the
hands will remove the odor left after
peeling onions.
When fish is served as a course at
dinner, potatoes are usually the only
vegetable presented.
For housecleaning time it’s well to
know that a mixture of two parts of
crude oil to one of turpentine applied
with a soft cloth makes an excellent
furniture polish.
Food becomes dangerous if put
away in tin receptacles. China or
glass dishes are the only safe things
in which “leftovers” may be allowed
to stand. Many cases of poisoning
may be traced to the common prac
tice of leaving canned goods stand
ing in the open cans.
'An effective recipe for ridding a
storeroom of a plague of red ants is
to dissolve a lump of camphor in
spirits of wine, add hot. water, and
wash the Infested places with the
mixture. Lumps of camphor tied in
white p§per and left on closet shelves
will also be of assistance in driving
off the persevering ants.
The perfect way of boiling eggs is
not to boil them at all. They should
be placed in a wire basket that the
necessity of fishing the eggs out one
by one may not keep some of them
in the water longer than others.
The basket should be submerged in
a dish of cold water. When the
water has come to a boil, not boiled,
the eggs are ready to be served.
Yawning cracks in the floor may be
neatly an* permanently filed with a
paste made by soaking newspapers in
a mixture of half a pound of flour,
half a pound of alum, and three
quarts of water. The mixture, news
papers and all, should be thoroughly
boiled until it is about the consist
ency of putty. It may be put in the
cracks and smoothed fiat with a case
knife. It will harden < like papier
mache and will take paint like the
wood.
USP8,> by UTnr
Pr*r*n and
•hap. Wh.n itt„,dA^,"a*
t The childish unZ^i
herd time of it. and *]
ssraffttf ,
church or Sunday
ludicrous interpretation^
misinterpretations, would *
| cover are fastened upon th.v9
i praver or £**!*>*..-_ \ u hm
prayer or Scripture
fondly believed the 2t ^ S
mgr presentations of eosli
the lambs of the tr,%i
aaeipma Times. “When ti, . **
a-twistlng, would twist him »
he need look no - *
example than the' rend^a
popular hymns the
infant school class. The t
course, cannot read, so ,ot!’
tendent (whose enunciation is”11"1
*»i«V
for
o!
av<
out line by line, and th« h ?•
Qillfi IaTIPA Kartell., a_ ,
!!^en.C.e_r.aPi,dl‘V translate any»0
or ideas which are beyond their
prehension into vernacular
IL^ay^e understood of thecom®,
the babies on the back seats
ears the original dictation did ,
reach, catch the text as well asti
may by listening to the others
whatever has been lost in th«
is glibly filled in with words and
timects of the most secular and st
ling character, and by the time
hymn has circulated all through
room the sense is pretty well ...
out of it-like the measles In
prolific Ward family, which Arte,
said he escaped “beeau.se 4
wusn t enough of it to go around"
‘•Who is Etta Farr, maun#,
asked one little girl who lives in
Quaker city.
“Etta Farr?” thoughtfully repii
mamma, mentally connin» over^
calling list “I don’t know
such person. ”
“Oh, yes, you do,” persisted
little one. “We sing about her
know.” “The Sweet Bye and fyj
was, indeed, a Sunday evening li
orite in that home, but no one h
ever noticed that "Girlie" had al*.
faithfully rendered one lino:
“By faith we can see Etta Farr.'
And that curiosity concern..
Etta’s identity was rife within h
small bosom.
The tale will bear retelling of ft
little girl who went around the hem.
chanting, “I hardly think I ha:
any father, I hardly think I haven]
father;” as a result of conscicntioa
drilling in a prayer beginning,
heartily thank thee, heave.
Father;” but the following may
ranked among the desirable class
the “hitherto unpublished."
small colored girl, a veritable Tope]
in originality, abruptly paused c.
day in her ministrations, dust brad
in hand, and demanded of her startli
mistress: “What did you say was
Lord’s last name?"
The bewildered lady, who had
never presumed to say anything
that subject, replied that she did not
know, but was assured:
“O yes, you taught it to
you’se’f; it’s in the bible”; and va
further requested to “Jus’ say th»
Lord’s prayer and I’ll show yon
She accordingly began the obedi.
repetition of the Lord’s prayer, 1
upon reaching the petition: "Hal
lowed be thy name,” a dusky low
finger was pointed at her in triumph
“Didn’t I tell you? Dat’s 'is
name—‘Hallowed.’ ’’
lpfc
1
This Is Nsnrs to Host People
“Hello” is almost a new word, a
it differs in form, sound and use fro®
the old "halloo.” It is merely men
tioned by Webster, and the searcher
for information is referred to "Id
loo, ” which is defined as an interjee
tion. a loud call or the noise of t!»
hunt. The forms there given—
"Halloa” and “halloo”—are not
adapted to the American tonpa
neither are they susceptible to ths
variety of expression that can
given to • -hello." Probably the wort
halloo grew out of the call “n
oh!” which was almost universally
used by wayfarers in olden time w
halting at a house along the way
“Hall, oh! the house,” was anotw
form quite common in this sectio"
early times. This would quite na
ally take the form of “hal-loo
house.” However, this denva 1
not given by Webster, but ®o
suggests itself.
Lemon Gri«»
Lemon grass, known only i®
m, grows to a height of 8
iven feet and ignites spontane
,t first a single curl of smoi
right tongue of flame will
ied. Soon, however, as the'
ns down the stalks and P ^
ith the oil and acids conta er
re pith of the curious herb n
res burst Into view here, t
very place, soon covering t
lountain in a sheet of flam®
The Passln z of the S»P*
How water, commonly called^
M<A88iirv to the life of a tre , ,
necessary to the life of a tr •
from the roots to the top t v(t
and evaporates is a problem a •
kco*8
solved by botanists. It aI.
- made chiefly
that the ascent is
ities in the sap-wood only- th® 1 ^
hark 8GPVin2’ othei P ,
and bark serving Jieif*'
That is the extent of our coj
of the matter. Beyond is • ^
jecture, and every tnoovj ^ test*^
vanccd has failed to stand
ixperiment.
Had no Leather Tro“^ sorIJ
His Maternal Parent—1 »■ ^
Willie (whaek). to have ^
It (whack) hurts mo » 8 hart*
(whack! whack) worse than
>'ou! . , .hriekUr
Willie, wriggling a™ ^ on!,
No it don’t! You’ve got a i
