AFTER THE VERDICT.
BY EUERTON GAT.
Copyright, 1894, by the Author.!
i OB A WOETLET
felt very lonely
and very miser
able as 6he sat
in her cheerless
lodgings one
dark November
afternoon. She
ought to have
been in pood
spirits, for she
had won her
case in the law
courts, but she
was far from
feeling1 so. In
fact she reset
ted more than
ever that she had been persuaded by
that pushing' little lawyer, Nicholas
Thompson, to bring1 the action for
breech of promise at alL
The amount of damages awarded to
her did not dazzle her; a thousand
pounds would buy her a great many
thing's she did not really want, but all
ber actual wants were amply supplied
already by her own industrious fingers,
which were always busy with type
writing; and it would not give her the
only thing she wanted some one to
love.
y A stumble up the dingy staircase,
into which the fog penetrated with im
punity, and a knock at the door an
nounced a visitor. "Come in," Nora
said, absently, forgetful of tear
stained eyes, and fingers besmoked
with perusing her love-letters in the
dull, smoky fire.
The door opened and gave admittance
to a short, spare man, who bustled in
and was all over the room before he
had finished saying: "Good afternoon,
and had laid his hat and gloves in a
place of security. He was very plain,
with reddish hair, which stood straight
up on his head, and light-colored eyes,
with red rims and no eyelashes to speak
of. Nora turned up the gas and stood
wailing to hear his business.
"Now, do sit down, do sit down. Miss
Wortley," he said, with brisk, though
embarrassed utterance. T have just
dropped in for a friendly chat and to
exchange congratulations about the
Verdict, you know."
"Thank you," 6aid Nora, without en
thusiasm; "I am sure you did your best
for me, and, of course, I thank you."
"Just so, just so." A pause ensued,
which Mr. Thompson bridged over
with sundry disjointed ejaculations.
I I dare say you know 1 am a bach
elor. Miss 'Wortley?"
"No. I did not, Mr. Thompson."
"Yes, tes, I am, I'm sorry to say. It
isDt right, you know, and I must
say I have been struck by the af
fectionate disposition you have dis
closed. Now don't speak, my dear lady!
It is so, very much struck, indeed, in
fact, madam. Your affection is a treas
ure I long to possess "
"Excuse me,- said Nora, hastily; "I
have no affection for anyone."
"Come, come. Miss 'Wortley, just
listen to me. Accept my hand and you
will find plenty of affection for me. I
will make you an excellent husband,
very domesticated, don't smoke, don't
drink, not very particular about my
meals, and very easily pleased, if any
one cares to study me. Now just say
yes,' and it is all settled."
"I am much obliged, but I would
rather say 'no. "
"But 1 am not going to take that for
an answer; if you won't say yes' to
day I will call again to-morrow, and so
on every day. No six and eightpence,
yon know!"
"I assure you I mean no," said Miss
Wortley, decidedly; "I beg you will
take that for an answer. 1 shall never
g-et engaged again."
"Poor thing, poor thing. You have
such an affectionate disposition, your
thoughts are running on the injury
that great brute did you. Never mind,
my dear, a thousand pounds makes a
TOTJ KSOW I AM A BlCHELOa"
very excellent plaster, and will soothe
the wound very much! That reminds
me bless my souL how could it have
escaped me? of course you shall have
entire control of your money yourself,
though I eonW find an excellent invest
ment for it."
Thank you, Mr. Thompson, but 1
will not marry you, and as for the
money you were instrumental in ret
ting for me, I am so ashamed of it tliat
X think I shall give it to some charity."
"Nonsense, Misa 'Wortley, you will
get over this. I wish that fellow was
not snch a great hulking brute. I
should like to give him a horsewhip
ping as soon as the money is paid, of
ctursj."
"If yoa think to please me by abusing
Olivet, you are very much mistaken,"
Nora Wortley said, hotly. "I will
hear nothing against him."
"I will wager th.t he is saying nasty
enough things against you," the attor
ney said, viciously; "Oliver Toogood
doesn't like parting with his money
any better than otU tr people do; so
there is no harm in ycnr having' a shy
at hiin if you want to."
"Hut I don't want to," said Nora,
with difficulty keeping back her tears;
"he was always very kind to me, and
no doubt it was my own fault that he
Lacked out of bis engagement" Nora
blew her nose and poked the fire, and
then turned to Mr. Thompson again.
"Somebody in the court wrote a pro
posal of marriage and passed it to me as
soon as the damages were awarded; he
was beforehand with you."
"Do you mean that you accepted
him?" Thompson grew red with anger,
and his hair stood up more aggressively
than before.
"No. I did not, any more than I have
accepted you; but I like him better than
I do you.
"Why?" he asked, sharply.
"Because he took no' for an answer."
"Goodby, Miss Wortley for the
present!" Mr. Thompson said, making
a frantic rush for his hat and gloves.
"God-by, Mr. Thompson."
Thompson opened the door and gave
admittance to some one who was about
to knock. lie gave a look at the new
comer, and hesitated to leave, but a
very decided action on the other's part
induced him to do so. The door
which had been held open so meaningly
for him was very promptly 6lammed
after him, not without a suspicious
movement, which looked like a kick,
aimed at the departed guest.
The newcomer was Oliver Toogood, a
tall, burly, hearty-looking man of forty,
having the appearance of a country
gentleman, though he was really a
horse dealer, very well known in his
county for honesty and fair dealing.
He drew np a chair to the fire, which
was now burning brightly, and, flushed
with excitement and without saluta
tion, began:
"What was that cringing little aeg
gar doing here?"
"He came to see me, Oli Mr. Too
good," Nora said, nervously.
"Well, the less you have to do with
him out of business hours the better,"
he said, brusquely; "1 can't deny but
that he has done your work well. I
suppose yoa are very grateful to him,
and all that?"
"Yes, I suppose I am," Miss Wortley
said, doubtfully; "I don't know."
"You ought to know, then. You
would not have got a thousand pounds
damages if he had not gone about it
i
I
"WHAT WAS THAT CRIXGIITO TJTTTJI
BEGGAR XOIXQ HERE?"
the right way. I have got the money
here for you." He 6lapped his pocket
significantly. "I could not make np
my mind to pay good money into dirty
fingers, that as much might stick to it
as he chooses. Take my advice, Nora,
and have his bill taxed."
"You are very kind to interest your
self about it," said Nora, wearily; ''but
I don't think Mr. Thompson is likely to
overcharge or cheat me in fact, he
wishes to make me his wife."
The making of such a confession was
distinctly contrary to Miss Wortley's
usual manner, but a sudden inclination
seized her to show her quondam lover
that 6he was not despised by everyone,
though he had cast her off without
reason.
"ii ut you are not going to marry
him?"
"I I don't know."
"Surely you will never tie yourself
to a little peddiing attorney chap like
that!" he burst out, impetuously;
"why, I could buy him out and out
four times over. A little snip like that
that I could take up with my finger and
thumb."
"It is very lonely for me," said Nora,
looking down so that Oliver Toogood
only saw her long dark lashes.
"But you might do better than that,"
Oliver blurted out, "with what you
have saved and my thousand pounds."
"Yes," said Nora, still keeping her
eyes cast down, "perhaps I could. I
have had other offers."
"The deuce you have!"
"But"
Well?" he put in, impatiently. "Why
don't you accept the best of them?"
"1 shall never marry without "
"An equal sum on the part of the
man? Well, here's the money I have to
hand over."
He plumped down a.bulky pocket
book. "There take it and count it. Bank
of England notes all of them. I can't
think what the deuce yoa wanted to
quarrel with me for."
"Oh, Oliver," she said, gently; "I al
ways heard that the quarrel of lovers
was the renewal of love, and I never
thoucht you would leave me because of
what I said."
"Well. I never meant to."
"But you did, and you said cruel
thing's about me."
"Which mischievous persons repeat
ed, Nora. I always meant to come
round in the end, only I heard that
Thompson was urging you to bring an
action for breach of promise of mar
riage, and tb.t made me turn stubborn.
Well, count your money, girl.
"I I don't want it!" said Nj-a, sob
bing, and hiding her face in htr hands;
"I hate it, and"
"And me, too?"
Oliver pot up softly, and stood be fore
her.
"And me. too?" he repeated, (rently.
"No," Nora murmured; "I was going
to say, 'and I won't have it-"
"Will you have me, instead, dear? I
don't see why we can't make it np, now
the lawyers have done their worst with
us. Will you, Nora?"
Nora turned up a wet face, glorified
with happiness.
"Oh, Oliver! was all she Bald, but it
seemed to satisfy Mr. Toogood vastly
wall.
FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
FATHER KINGFISHER.
Bow Ha BnUda Ilia Nest and Provides for
His. Family.
"It is getting towards spring," says
Father Kingfisher. "Time to think of
another nest!"
Father Kingfisher is a handsome fel
low. He is of dull blue back and breast
marked with black. His under parts
are white and he has black tail feath
ers with curious white lines across
them. His pretty blue head is long
and adorned with a tuft of feathers.
His nest is not a little affair, woven
of sticks and grasses, like the majority
of birds.
"I like to live near a quiet mill pond,
says Father Kingfisher, "and there I
dig a good tunnel, perhaps six or eight
feet long, in the side of the sandy bank.
At the end of this tunnel I let Mother
Kingfisher arrange the nursery. I
bring her plenty of good, clean fish
bones to make the cradles for the lit
tle ones. They make the most com
fortable beds in the world for little
Kingfishers."
It is on account of meals thatTather
Kingfisher finds the sand bank a good
place for a home, ne sits for hours on
a dry limb or a high post overlooking
the water. When his sharp eyes spy a
fish swimming below him he darts
down and seldom misses striking his
prey. Then, with the fish in his beak,
he mounts again to his perch and beats
the fish against the tree or post until
its spine is broken.
Father Kingfisher does not look as
if he enjoyed his dinner. He swallows
it in great gulps, dislocating his neck
and jerking his body and wingsduring
the process. But he is a good pro
vider, although it is to be hoped that
the little kingfishers do not tire of a
fish diet, for they get little else.
The kingfishers are large, noisy and
assertive birds. They dash across the
water, looking like a long blue streak
in their swift flight. When they spy
the fish for which they have been
watching they dart down, plunging
into the water with a sudden dash.
The little kingfishers lie warm and
Enug in their dry, sandj' hole. No
doubt they think it far pleasanter
than the most daintily woven nest in
the top of the tallest tree! N. Y.
World.
VERY CLEVER TRICK.
How to Boil Water with the Beat of
Onr'i Hand.
A very clever trick whereby cold
water may be made to appear to boil
from the heat of the hand is easily
managed by the boy magician.
Take a tumbler and fill it three-quarters
full of water. Show your audience
that is ordinary cold water, or ice
water, if you choose. Cover this with
a coarse linen handkerchief, allowing
its center to fall to the surface of the
water.
Flace the palm of the hand tightly
over the top of the tumbler and gently
invert it with the right hand, which
will hold it in he air after the left
.'v.'Mv.
METHC3 CF KDlOINfi
GLASS.
GLASS WttM
fIRST INVERTED
hand is removed. The edges of the
handkerchief are to be firmly held
around the side of the glass, and when
the inversion is complete it will be
found that not a drop of water has
been Epilled and that by the pressure
of the outer air the handkerchief re
tains its concave form in the glass.
Now with the left hand slowly and
firmly draw up the handkerchief ends
so as to stretch it tightly over the
mouth of the tumbler, when, of course.
! the water will follow it to the lowest
i point, leaving a vacuum above it.
j This vacuum, being something al
I ways abhorrent to nature, as we are
taught at school, must be hlled at
once; hence the outer air will force
itself through the handkerhief and up
through the water in a rapid succes
sion of bubbles. So lively will this be
that the operator will clearly feel the
vibrations in his hand, the audience
will hear the bubbling as of boiling
water, and if the glass be long and the
handkerchief properly arranged, so
that the glass is exposed to view be
tween the four corners of the hand
kerchief, the violent disturbance may
plainly be seen, an exact counterpart
of the steam bubbles in boiling water.
If this trick be introduced by appro
priate remarks and with the panto
mime of rapidly rubbing the hands
together to generate a high degree of
animal heat, it is very effective. Of
course, it is well to practice a few
times over a basin until proficiency is
attained. St. Louis Republic.
Peter Made a Mistake.
The schoolmistress was showing off
her pupils to some visiting friends.
She had been over the same ground a
day or two before, and thought she
could trust them to do her credit.
'Who knows what useful article is
furnished to nu by the elephant?" she
asked.
"Ivory," was the prompt reply of
three boys at once.
"Very good. And what do you get
from the whale?"
"Whalebone."
"Right again And what from the
seal?"
"Sealing-wax," answered Peter Sand,
whose inventiveness was better than
his memory.
Little Jim rale's Ambition.
"Well. Jimmie," said the visitor to
the small son of the entomologist, "are
you going to be a lawyer when you
grow up, or what?"
'Tin goin to be a bugwump like
papa," said Jimmie.
4 rMn;Aift RUSHING
MJm vacuum
IN A BUFFALO'S HEAD.
A Banter KUla a Bull with a Charge mt
Small Chance.
The buffalo of Ceylon carries his
head in a peculiar manner the horns
thrown back and his nose projecting
on a level with his forehead thus se
curing him from a fatal front shot.
This n lers him a dangerous enemy,
as he wJl receive any number of balls
from a small gun in the throat and
chest without showing the least dis
tress. An account of a dangerous en
counter with this animal is given. The
writer had fired without killing the
buffalo and had not a ball left. With
a 6tealthy step and a short grunt the
bull advanced upon the man, seeming
ly aware of his helplessness.
"Suddenly a bright thought flashed
through my mind. Without taking my
eyes off the animal I put a double
"THE BCIX. LAT POWERLESS TJPOS THB
GROCSD."
charge of powder down the right-hand
barrel, and, tearing off a piece of my
shirt, I took all the money from my
pouch, three shillings in six penny
pieces and two anna pieces.
"Quickly making them into a roll
with the piece of a rag, I rammed
them down the barrel- They were
hardly well home before the bull
sprang forward. I had no time even
to replace the ramrod, and threw it
into the water, bringing my gun on full
cock at the same instant.
"I now had a charge in the gun
which, if reserved till he was within a
few feet of the muzzle, would certain
ly floor him. The horns were lowered,
their points were on either side of me,
and the muzzle of the gun barely
touched his forehead when I pulled
the trigger and three shillings worth
of small change rattled into his hard
head.
"Down he went and rolled over with
the suddenly checked momentum of his
charge. Away went B and I as fast
as our heels would carry us, tbrcugh
the water and over the plain, knowing
that he was not dead, but only stunned.
"There was a large fallen tree about
half a mile from ns whose whitened
branches, rising high above the ground,
offered a tempting asylum. To this we
directed our steps, and after a run of
100 yards we turned and looked be
hind us. The buffalo had regained
his feet and was following us slowly.
We now experienced the difference of
feeling between hunting and being
hunted.
"By degrees the bull's pace slack
ened and he felL We were only too
glad to be able to reduce our speed,
but. we had no sooner stopped to
breathe than he was up again and
after us. At length, however, we
gained the tree and beheld him
stretched powerless upon the ground
within 200 yards of us."
Unappropriated Syllable.
In the early days of the gold excite
ment in California a young German
from Michigan departed for California,
and, after prospecting for awhile,
settled there, nis name was John G.
Almondinger, and wishing to Ameri
canize himself as much as possible he
applied to the legislature of California
and had his name changed to John G.
Almond. A few days later a man
named John Smith applied to the same
legislature, and after reciting a long
catalogue of the ills to which he was
subject owing to his unfortunately
common name, he said in conclusion:
"And whereas I have noticed that you
curtailed the name of J. G. Almonding
er to J. G. Almond and have not dis
posed of the 'inger,' which seems to
be lying around loose. I respectfully
request that the same may be added to
my name." The result of this appeal
is not stated. Youth's Companion.
Why She Didn't Ran Away.
A lady who had reached the time of
life when she began to resent every
birthday as a personal affront was at
tending a sewing circle at the parson
age one day when the cry went up that
there was a mouse in the room. Every
lady in the room, except this one, fled,
screaming. She remained in her chair,
as pale as death. Hearing the trproar
the pastor, who was in his study, came
in to see what was the matter.
"It'B a m-m-mouse!" the pale lady
gisped.
"Indeed! And why didn't you rni
with the rest? Aren't you afraid of
mice?"
"I am mortally afraid of them!"
"Then why, please, did you stay in
the room?"
"I was in hopes," the lady faltered,
"that I might be scared out of a yaar's
growth'."
Tabby Uvea on Vegetable.
There is a cat in the seclusion of
Hampton Court, England, which has
become a strict vegetarian, certainly
on principle, since there is plenty of
meat to be had. This eccentric crea
ture, black from nose to tail, has taken
for her chief diet scarlet runner beans.
Cucumbers she also likes, and carrots,
if they are boiled, while she occasion
ally nibbles away at other vegetables.
But, for some inscrutable reason, this
singular cat will not touch fruit, and,
although 6he will drinlc milk, she re
jects the bread that may be mixed with
it. Altogether, there is some talk of
taking this queer animal to London to
have the philosophers talk over her.
i.. i M
FOR SUNDAY READING.
AN ABIDING PEACE.
"Let not thy peace be in the tongues of men:
tor whether they interpret well or 111. thou
art not therefore another man." Thomas a
Keropis.
Where to the soul that seeks shall peace draw
nigh?
Tls not In fleeting words that quickly die;
Nor is it the gift that Fortune brings
Upon swift moving, fickle, summer wings;
For If we trust her she may soon forsake.
And nothing gives that none from us can take.
Riches oft fade away like morning dew.
And friendship's ties like thread are cut in
two:
Death ever waits, an armed foe at our side
Surely there s nought below that doth abide.
But if we lift our eyes above these things
To which the heart of mortal ever clings.
The grace of God shall touch and till our
souls
With peace that like a river onward rolls.
Till with His Ufe our little lives shall blend
In joy unspeakable that knows no end.
This one thing doea He give that none can
take
This crown if we will wear It for His sake.
Bertha C. Floyd, in N. Y. Observer.
A "WHITE CITY.
The Mutability and Innpermanenry of Our
Present Abode.
Beautiful as was the court of honor,
tremendous as were the buildings in
which the Columbian exposition was
housed, we all felt oppressed during
our visits to the World's fair with the
thought that
All that's bright must fade.
The brightest still the fleetest.
And now that a fire has swept across
the most beautiful part of ,the grounds
and left only heaps of ashes, we realize
as never before how often beauty and
frailty go together. Indeed, in life as
we know it here they seem inseparably
joined. The evening cloud, the pris
matic bow, the violet, the lily and the
rose, are all but for a moment or an
hour, and fade to nothingness. What
is our consolation? Only this, they
were not made to endure. They were
never intended for permanency. The
conflagration which swept out of ex
istence the glorious peristyle caused
many an exclamation of regret, but no
horror of despair; because we all real
ized that its beauty was not fashioned
to endure. It burned like tinder be
cause built of tinder.
How its (rlory and its fate would
have afforded thettes for Spenser. Her
bert or Quarles. All lovers of the
Faerie Queene remember that it closes
with an "unperfite" canton upon
"Mutabilitie," describing in disjointed
rhymes "this state of life so tickle."
It would have emphasized the warning
of Herbert how "All things burn;" and
Quarles would have found in it a thou
sand new "Emblems" of man's state.
Indeed to the meditation of the
philosopher, as to the eye of faith.
this world is but a great White City
incomparable both for its beauty and
its perishableness. It bears every ap
pearance of having been built lor a
summer season only, and we scarcely
need the words of inspiration to warn
ns that this earth is not our abiding
place. We have seen this past year
that it does not need the vast arma
ment of war to tread down the wealth
of the people; a whisper, a sudden fear,
and one billion dollars worth of prop
erty has disappeared. I here will oe
death in the world even if the great
Krupp run be silent. The prick of
a pin, the failure of a valve
in the heart for an instant; nay, the
pressure of a tiDy cloth upon some
point in the brain, and the fair ' use
in which the spirit dwelt is fallen into
indistinguishable ruin. Even the wis
dom ot this world seems scarcelv to
outlive the lips that spake it. "Our
little systems have their day," and are
forgotten. We blow the dust from the
edges of the great tomes that lie upon
our library shelves and read here and
there a page for the merriment of our
children. Man's wisdom and his
wealth pass from the face of the earth
as quicklv as his body. Glorious as
this life seems to be in fair days of
pleasure and in moments of swelling
pride, it does not take us long to dis'
cover that it is a great White City, sur
passing our dreams but disappointing
our heart's best hopes. We may dis
guise its frailty with the appearance of
strength for a little while, we may
patch it and repair it after each gust
or storm, but nothing can give it per-
mancv; and before very long it shall
wholly "melt with fervent heat."
All these thiners are as evident to the
unbelit ver as to the child of God. But
the disciple of Christ is not cast down
by such proof of the world's "mutabili
tie." He knows of a city that hath
foundations. He possesses treasures
that are true riches. He has a home
in mansions that are eternal in the
Heavens. It is the consciousness of all
this which enables him to use this
world without abusing it. He does
not attempt to make of it otter than
he knows it to be, a place for pleasure
and a place for study, but i home.
And the proof of that better life, o
which this is but the shadow, the earn
est is himself. That heaven which
"lay about him in his infancy" has
never wholly vanished from his spirit
ual vision. With the multipled witness
ing to the perishableness of the world
about him he has had increasing evi
dence ot a deathless soul within, and
what in earlier life were intimations of
immortality have become intuitions of
a deathless life. The decay of wealth
the loss of health, do not take him by
surprise, because he knows that all
earthly beauty must turn to ashes
when its purpose has been fulfilled.
But amid the wreck, and in full view
of all the loss, he still has within his
own heart the full proof of the prom
ises in that he himself is not touched
of the flame. There is something of
which he is sweetly conscious, that
death can not reach. Chicago Interior.
THE DEBIT SIDE.
What Our Obligation Are to Those About
La,
We owe other people service. Service
goes with" loving. We can not love
truly and not serve. Love without
serving is but an empty sentiment, a
poor mockery. God so loved the world
that He gave. Tove always gives. This
matter of serving has multitudinous
forms. Sometimes it is poverty that
stands at our gate, and money help is
wanted. A thousand times more fre
quently, however, it is not money, but
something else more precious that we
must give. It may be loving sympathy.
Sorrow is before us. Another's heart
is breaking. Money would be of no
use; it would be only a bitter mockery
to offer it. But we can hold to the
neighbor's lips a cup of the wine of
love, filled out of our own heart, which
will give new strength to the sufferer.
Or it is the anguish of a life struggle,
a human Gethsemane, beside which we
are called to watch. We can give no
actual aid the soul must fight its bat
tles alone; but we can be as the angel
that ministered to our Lord's Gethsem
ane, imparting strength and helping"
the weary struggler to win the victory.
The world is very full of sorrow and
trial, and we can not live among our
fellow men and be true without shar
ing their loads. If we are happj', we
must hold the lamp of our happiness so
that its beams will fall upon the
shadowed heart. If we have no bur
den, it is our duty to put our shoulders
under the load of others. Selfishness
must die, or else our own heart's life
must be frozen within us. We soon
earn that we can not live for our
selves and be Christians; that the
blessings that are given to us are real
ly for other people; and that we are
only God's ministers to carry them in
Christ's name to those for whom they
were intended. J. R. Miller, D. D.
GOD CARES FOR THEM.
Thought
for the Lives of the
Leant ot
Dumb Annimals.
The daughter of an army officer.
whose life had been spent in the far
west, told the following anecdote: "In
dians, when they accept Christianity,
very often hold its truths with peculiar
simplicity. They are not hackneyed
to them.
There was near our fort an old
chief called Tassorah. One day whea
was an impulsive girl I was in a rage
at my pony, and dismounting, beat him
severeH'. The old man stood by, silent
for a moment
What words have I heard from
Jesus?' he said sternly. 'If vou love
not your brother whom you have seen,
how can you love God whom you have
not seen?'
"'This horse is not my brother!' I
said, scornfully.
"The old man laid his hand on the
brute's head and turned it toward me.
The eyes were full of terror.
'Is not God his Creator? Must He
not care for him?' he said. 'Jot a
sparrow falls to the ground without
His notice.'
I never forgot the lesson. It flashed
on me then for the first time that the
dog that ran beside me, the birds, the
very worms were His, and I, too, was
one of His great family."
A French naval officer has written a
book which is a bold and powerful plea
for mercy and kindness toward all liv
ing things. Even the brief life of a
day given to an insect is sacred in his
eyes.
'If I can never return life to them
again. he asks. shall 1 make it
wretched; shall I for no cause take it
from them?"
The eloquence of his plea for the
tflumb part of God's creation was one of
the reasons of the recent elevation of
M. Viaud, better known by his pen-
name 1'ierre Loti, to a seat in tne
French academy.
To understand the force of his argu
ment, look attentively at the dumb
creature nearest to you horse, dog or
cat; at its strength, its beauty, the in
telligence looking out of its eyes.
If God took care and thought to
make it thus, shall not He hear its cry
against him who wrongs it? Youth's
Companion.
CHOICE SELECTIONS.
.Make a
truce with the devil and
you declare
war with Christ. Younff
Men's Era.
Don't fool with
plays with knives will
sin. Whoever
sooner or later
get cut. Ram's Horn.
Jesus Christ lived to teach ns how
to live, and died to teach us how to die.
Rest Islander.
Prayer is so mighty an instrument
that no one ever thoroughly mastered
all its keys. They sweep along the in
finite scale of man's wants and of God's
goodness. Hugh Miller.
You will find some Christians whs
know not whence their next bread is
to come, speaking of the bounty of
their God, while others are repining
in the midst of plenty. FlaveL
Do to-day's duty, fight to-day's
temptation. Do not weaken and dis
tract yourself looking forward to
things you can not see, and could not.
understand if you saw. Charles Kings
ley. The effect of every burden laid'
down is to leave us relieved; and when
the soul has laid down that of its.
faults at the feet of God, it feels as
though it had wings. Engenie da
Guerin.
Every day is a little life, and on,
whole life is but a day repeated.
Those, therefore, that dare lose a day
are dangerously prodigal; those that
dare misspend it, desperate. Bishop
Hall.
No man is born into the world
whose work is not born with him.
There is always work, and tools to
work withal, for those who will; and
blessed are the horny hands of toil.
Lowell.
We may not be able to win friend
or to bold them, but everyone of tis
ought to be able to be a friend unfail
ingly. Friendship consists in loving
rather than in being loved, and the
measure of our worth in friendship is
in our faithfulness as friends. S. SL
Times.
The man who gives me a larger
outlook upon truth, who heips me to
see actualities in their true relations,
performs for me a greater servlt than
if he had given me bouses and lands. I
am a new creature. Life can never
again be the thing it was, but it is
deeper and richer and grander forever
more. Ram's Horn.