L
.7
V
i
Pt0 0&
LTnoccn the
deadly hostili
ty of the Apa
c h e s to the
settlement o f
Aiizona by the
whites has re
sulted, in the
long1 ran, dis
a a tr ously to
the f o rmer.
they could boast of many temporary
triumphs during the years preceding
their final subjection, and it was sel
dom that their bloodthirsty bands,
returning redhanded from the slaugh
ter of the unprotected, were overtaken
by immediate and adequate punish
ment. So swiftly would they swoop
down on the unsuspecting1 settler,
murder, burn, destroy 'and disappear,
that pursuit was nearly always fruit
less, and though, in time, punishment
was meted out after a fashion to the
whole tribe, the individual perpetra
tors almost invariably escaped identi
fication and justice. When Gen. Crook
subdued them and placed them on res
ervations, it was not by any on
pitched battle, but by hunting them
relentlessly from their mountain fast
nesses and keeping them constantly
on the move until there was no longer
a hiding place in all the land where
they could be safe from pursuit.
Then they sued for peace, which was
granted them, but which they only ob
served when it was convenient to them
selves. In spite of Christian teachings the
human mind 6till clings instinctively
to the law of retaliation and refuses
to be satisfied when those who have
taken human life are left in posses
sion of their own. It is consequently,
Eavs the St. Louis Globe-Democrat,
a pleasure to recall one instance at
least in which a brutal band of Apache
murderers were overtaken by a swift
and terrible retribution. The instance
here related is history heretofore un
written, it is true; nor can all the par
ticulars be found in the records of the
war department, for it was not deemed
advisable in those days to report the
killing of many Indians for fear of
raising a clamor among the Boston
philanthropists, so called, a class in
the east who could hear of the mas
sacre of settlers and their wives and
children unmoved, but who never
failed to shudder and raise a wail at
the death of a "poor Indian." The raid
on the Ilassayampa is only too well
remembered by many 'residing in Ari
zona to-day, for it was one of the last
Indian outrages committed in northern
r'z .i.a.
The few score of citizens of the little
mining camps sprinkled along the
Hassayampa river were commencing
to breathe easier. It was nearly four
months since Gen. Crook had gathered
in the numerous bands of marauding
Apaches and placed them under mili
tary control on the reservation, and it
was now possible to lie down at night,
or even to travel from place to place,
without fear or trembling. Former
horrors were forgotten and men were
at their ease and off their guard. But
the poor Indians were suffering from
ennui. So one day a lare band of
theio stole away from their reserva
tion on the Verdi river and headed for
the mining camps on the Ilassayampa.
They had some squaws with them, for
they intended to take a good long holi
day and the gentle squaws could not
bear to foreg o the pleasure of torturing
the white prisoners, of whom it was
hoped there would be many. They be
longed to that branch of the Apache na
tion known as the Apache-Mohave, and
there were just 125 of them in alL
It was midafternoon on the ISth of
. May, 1S73, when the snake-like proces
sion wound down through a dark, nar
row ravine to the deep canyon of the
Hassayampa. and crossing quickly
over the dry bed of the stream, disap
peared noiselessly among the huge
bolwders that lined the opposite side
arid covered the abrupt slope of the
overhanging mountains. Four miles
below was Smith's mill, a ten-stamp
quartz mill that had just been com
pleted, and five miles above was Ed
L.imbleys ranch, where the water of
the river came to the surface for a short
distance before sinking again in the
sandy channel. There was no one in
birht as the Indians waited behind the
bowlders, but a wagon road passed up
the canyon from Smith's mill to
Lambley's ranch, and thence to the
mining camp of Wickenburg, 6till
farther above. Soon Gus Swain came
driving his mules Blowly along the
sandy road, his rickety wagon
Hi led with empty barrels. As lie
ueared the group of bowlders it is
strange that his mules did not give him
warning that death larked behind
thein, for his off mule was noted lor
its intense dislike for Indians. Poor
Swain's body was found the next da,
mutilated in an unspeakable manner,
lying in the sand beside his deserted
wagon. But there was the wound of
a ig musket ball in his breast, and
they breathed easier when they saw
that proof that death had saved him
from torture. The tracks showed how
the Indians had swarmed around the
wagcn. and that they had led away
one of the mules, but had butchered
the oth,r on the spot. Not a trace of
the latter was left on the ground ex
sept the contents of its paunch and a
f-w splashes of blood. Then, each
vje carrying share of the slaugh
tered auitual, the climbed to the sum
fiit of the rougl". bowlder-strewn
nountaiu, still in single file, and
building a score of little fires that
made no smoke to betray their pres
ence from a distance, they rocsted and
feuitted and made merry.
Soon word was passed that a white
xr:an was coming down the canyon, and
a party of them descending the moun
tain rain waited behind the bowld
r r
unto
T
due, j
unto him
whkom honor
is
ers. The man was tm foot, and as ha
came nearer they could see that he
was a well-formed, handsome young;
fellow, over six feet in height, and
that he carried an ivory -handled six
shooter slung to the cartridge belt that
encircled his waist. No one know
exactly what happened next, but it ia
certain that he must have been star
tled out of his presence of mind per
haps by their diabolical yelling, or
perhaps y an arrow whizzing past
him and failed to use his pistol. The
tracks in the sand indicated that on
coming opposite the ambush he start
ed to run west across the canyon, and
that fifty or more of the 6avages took
after him, catching him under the
cliffs on the opposite side. Thi6 would
never have happened if he had pulled
his pistol and faced them. They
would have been compelled to shoot
him dead, and thus he would have
avoided the awful torture that fol
lowed. George Taylor, the eighteen-year- 1
eld son of the superintendent of
Smith's mill, had been dispatched to
Lambley's ranch that morning to at
tend to some work on the flume which
delivered water to the mill, and to
turn on the water for the first mill
run. P. "W. Smith, the mill owner, had
brought him as far as the ranch in bis
buggy and had gone on to Wicken
burg, intending to call for him on his
return that same evening. After com
pleting his work on the flame young
Taylor had decided not to wait for
Smith but to return on foot, as there
still remained several hours of day
light; though Lambley, who liked the
boy, urged him strongly to spend the
remainder of the afternoon and the
night at the ranch. That was the last
seen of him alive.
In due time Smith stopped at Lam
bley's in his buggy, and learning that
the boy had gone allowed himself to
be persuaded into spending the night.
The next morning at Smith's mill, Mo
Donald, one of the mill men. had to
go to Wickenburg, and saddled his
horse at sunrise. He never came back.
Death still lurked behind those fatal
bowlders, and as he passed opposite
them on his big gray horse there was a
whir of arrows, and he was sent to meet
Gus Swain and George Taylor. That
must have been about seven o'clock in
the morning, for at eight o'clock
Smith came along in his buggy, and,
discovering the two dsad bodies, did not
need to be told what was wrong, but
turned his horse and hurried back to
Lambley's. That he was unmolest
ed was proof that the murderers had
departed.
The next day a party started out to
bury the bodies and to hunt for young
Taylor or his remains; also to note
which way the Indians had gone and
whether they were still lurking in the
ricinity. The party was a small one,
for there were not many men in the
settlement, but it was not their inten
tion to attempt an engagement with
so large a body as this was known to
be. However, a swift courier had
been dispatched at once to the mili
tary post at Date creek, forty miles
from Wickenburg. The party on reach
ing the scene of the murders followed
the well-worn trail leading to the
mountain top, where the Indians had
camped, and there, surrounded by the
TTITHCED BEHIXD THE BOWLDERS.
clean-picked bones of the butchered
mule, they found the body of the un
fortunate boy, stripped and horribly
mutilated.
Another day passed, and then a de
tachment of United States cavalry
arrived from Date creek, supported by
a company of Indian scouts, and took
up the well-defined trail, which led
eastward over unexplored mountain
ranges. They found where the rene
gades at their next halting place had
killed and eaten the other of Swain's
mules, and, as before, had consumed it
entire, leaving nothing but the clean
picked bones; and the next day they
fell in with a strong scouting party
from Fort McDowell, who had heard
from Camp Verde that some Indians
had escaped from the reservation, and
had been sent out to intercept them.
The two parties so opportunely met
joined forces forthwith, and late that
afternoon the scouts brought in word
that their quarry had gone into camp
a short distance ahead of the column.
It is probable that the marauding
party had sent back spies for the first
day or two, and thus learning that
they were not being followed for the
troops did not take the trail until the
third day after their departure they
had grown careless and relaxed their
vigilance. By the waters of a crystal
spring, in a deep, seelnded valley,
walled by high mountains, the mur
derers had chosen their vesting place.
They had butchered th large gray
horse ridden by McDonald, their third
victim, and were feasting and making
merry in fancied security. The bucks
were lying around at their ease, with
out their arms, while the squaws
roasted great hunks of flesh at tha
camr fires and waited on their lords.
Silently the stern-faced troops closed
in around them, and at a signal volley
after volley was poured into them
from every side. There was no chance
of escape. Panic-stricken, they rushed
to and fro within the circle of belch,
ing flame and smoke. In a few min
utes all was over. Their little pleas
uro trip was over and their vietlm
were averged.
- xmTTp7iuovrTiTiu wicr 116808011
manently curex asd piles preywntXl
BRAVERY HALF THE BATTLE.
William tioat's Kimple Wit Proved Too
Much for Lro.
There was once a wise old goat. One
day he took refuge from a rtorm by
running into the first cave he saw. It
proved an excellent shelter, but it be
longed to a lion; and soon the goat
heard the lion coming home.
"Aha:" remarked William Goat to
himself, "this is a place where wit is of
more use than sharp horns! And when
the lion came in, he calmly found the
goat stroking his beard.
"How very lucky," exclaimec old Wil
liam, just as the lion was about to
spring upon him.
"Lucky?" said Leo, stopping half
way "for me. you mean?"
"Not at all," answered William; "I
mean for uiyselL It is my business to
hunt lions."
"I never heard of such a thing," an
swered the lion, laughing scornfully.
"Very likely not," replied the goat.
'But then I'm not an ordinary goat. I
am the lion-hunting kind. We are rare,
but there are a few of us still left. I
made a vow that I would kill ten lions
this week, but they are scarce, and so
far I have slain only five. You will be
the sixth."
So saying he lowered his head and
charged the lion with pretended feroc
ity. Not expecting the attack, the lion
turned and ran out.
No sooner was William the goat sure
that the lion was at a distance than he
started off, too, but in another direc
tion. Meanwhile Leo met a jackal, and
told him about the story the goat had
made up.
"What nonsense!" said the jackal,
bursting into a roar of laughter. "Why,
I know old William Goat well. He is
no fiercer than any other goat. Come
with me and we'll quickly make an end
of him." So they turned back toward
the cave, and soon finding the goat's
tracks, they made after him at top
speed.
William Goat luckily caught sight of
them before they saw him.
"Now," said he to himself, "I must
make lelieve harder than ever, or all
is lost."
Thereupon he turned around and ran
toward his pursuers at full speed. As
oon as he was near enough to be plain
ly heard, he cried out in as angry a
tone as he could put on:
"WI13-, Jackal, how is this? I told
you I needed five lions, and here you
bring me only this little one!"
At this Leo was again overcome by
fright, and he once more took to his
paws toward the deepest part of the
jungle. The jackal called after him in
vain, and, being really a coward, did
not dare to face old William Goat alone.
SoWilliam arrived safe at home, to
the great joy of Nanny and the little
kids. Christopher Valentine, in St.
Nicholas.
COSMETiC VALUE OF MIRTH.
Beautifying Effect of the Artless. Happy
Laugh.
The apostle of comeliness should
never forget that mirth is beautifying.
No end of women possess what is
termed "gas beauty" that is, they are
plain enough on ordinary occasions and
at staid afternoon functions, but at
midnight, under the blaze of candela
bra and gas-jets, they become radiant,
metamorphosed beings. It is not alto
gether the glitter of jewels, the cloudy
tulles, the shimmer of silks and the in
undation of light that transform
them. It is something more subtle.
It is the idea of unalloyed gayetj-,
suggested by the lively strains
of music, the fragrance of flowers, and
the festive air generally, that inspire
these chameleonlike women with a
light-heartedness that causes their
faces to become en wreathed in smiles,
and their very eyes to dance with high
spirits. The demi-semi smile that gives
a twitch to the mouth, but does not
creep up to the eye is a poor affair by
comparison.
Many women are very much-like those
bewitching modern lamps dressed in
their pretty modish shades, that pos
sess in the daytime a cold, unalluring,
even insignificant beauty, but when
the flame is kindled, when the unre
strained smile bursts forth, a transfor
mation takes place.
A spontaneous smile lifts every line
of the face. It might almost be called
the elixir of 3-outh. The play of the
facial muscles that comes from hearty
frequent laughter restores freshness
and tone to the flesh of the face. It is,
indeed, a sort of poetic message. The
laughter should be the laughter
of artlessness, however; it should
spring from the-childlike side of one's
nature. It is the happy laugh of
animal content of little children re
joicing in the song of birds, fresh air,
blue sky, and a sense of gladness in
mere existence that is all beautifying.
Harper's Bazar.
The Origin of Tea.
It is difficult nowadaj-s to imagine
how the Japanese managed to live
without tea; everybody drinks it at all
hours cf the day, and the poorest peo
. pie rarely get a chance of drinking
: anything stronger, and yet it is, as
things went in old Japan, a compara
tively recent introduction. Tea was
i introduced with Buddhism from China,
j and though some plants were brought
as early as the ninth century, it was
not much grown until the end of the
twelfth. Daruma, an Indian saint of
the sixth century, often represented in
Japanese art either crossing the ocean
on a reed or sitting a monument of pa
tience with his hands in his sleeves,
was the father of the tea-plant. After
years of sleepless watching and prayer
he suddenly got drowsy, and at last his
eyelids closed and he peacefully slept.
When he awoke he was so ashamed of
this pardonable weakness that he cut
off the offending eyelids and threw
them on the ground, where they in
stantly took root and sprouted into the
shrub which has ever since had power
to keep the world awake. Alfred Par
tons, in Harper's Magazine.
"That's a curious paradox," said
Oicks. "What is?" queried Hawkins.
''Offer a timid man affront, and hell be
taken 'beck." Harper's Bazar
caltTe Htlen cenTs per FeaffTirFhose
who wish to have such work done will
I
TEA GROWING IN JAPAft.
Valuable Plants Which An Reared Under
Covers of Matting.
In the twelfth century Kyoto was the
center of life in Japan, and the district
of Uji, between that city and Nara.has
always kept its reputation for produc
ing the finest tea. The most valuable
leaves are those on the young spring
shoots. Most of the 6hrubs grow in
the open air without any protection,
evergreen bushes from two to three
feet high, and among them the women
and children were at work. As they
squatted by the plants filling their
baskets very little of them was visi
ble, but their big grass hats shone in
the sun, looking like a crop of gigan
tic mushrooms. The Japanese "kasa"
is made of various light materi
als straw, split bamboo, rushes, or
shavings of deal; it is used, like an
umbrella tied to the head, as a protec
tion against sun and rain; in the even
iug or on cloudy days it is laid aside,
and the laborers wear only their cotton
kerchief, spread out like a hood, or tied
in a band round their brows. Though
it can not be called the "vast hat the
Graces made," it is, nevertheless, very
effective in the landscape, and the
variations of its outline in different -positions
indicate happily the action
of its wearer. The plants which pro- i
duce the most expensive teas, costing
from six to eight dollars a pound, are
carefully protected by mats stretched
on a framework of bamboo, so that
the tender leaves may neither be
scorched by the sun or torn by
the heavy rains, and there . are
acres of them so inclosed. It was a
curious thing to look down from a little
hill-top on a sea of matting which filled
the whole valley from one pine-clad
hill to another, its surface only broken
by the ends of the supporting poles and
by the thatched roofs of the drj-ing-houses
which stuck up here and there
like little islands. Underneath the
mats women were picking, and in
every way-side cottage those who
were not in the fields were busily
sorting and cleaning the leaves. There
are no large factories or firing-houses;
each family makes its own brand of
tea, labelling it with some fanciful or
poetic name. Alfred Parsons, in Har
per's Magazine.
A TALE OF TWO RINGS.
How a Tonne Girl learned the Significance
of the Golden C irclet. I
When Estelle was a mere child, her
mother occasionally showed to her a
slender gold ring set with a tiny dia
mond. This ring her mother kept
locked in a little brass casket, which
was in turn kept in a locked bureau
drawer. Estelle noticed that the rin
was in places worn almost to a thread,
and that sometimes, when her mother
fitted it on her finger, she wept before
returning it to the dark little casket.
Estelle knew that her mother was a I
widow, but she was not quite sure
what a widow was, and she knew also
that she herself was the youngest of
many children so many that at five
years of age, Estelle could never re- j
member the exact number.
Often during her childhood Estelle, !
having seen others wear beautiful
rings, had wondered why her mother
did not wear hers, and had even asked
for an explanation: "Because, darling,
her mother had said, "papa gave the
ring to mamma, and she must not wear
it out." Estelle wondered who "papa"
was. and why he should care if her
mother wore the pretty little ring.
Afterward. Estelle's mother died, and
Estelle grew older and forgot about
the ring. She had not time to culti
vate the sentiments that belong to such
trifles, for she was very poor and
worked day after day in a kitchen.
But in time a young farmer, who
worked in the field even harder than
Estelle worked in the kitchen, grew
foud of her. Estelle surreptitiously
gave him sometimes the largest plate
of dessert that was served, and he re
warded rher with a meaning look.
Then followed the old story, and Estelle
learned there was something in life
worth living for, and that it was not a
diamond, until one day the young
farmer placed on her finger a ring ex
actly like her mother's, except that it
was heavier and had never been worn
before. When her lover was gone
Estelle leaned on the kitchen table and
toyed with the ring, and then for the
first time she realized why her mother
cherished and guarded the ring that
she kept in the casket. Jewelers'
Weekly.
Accommodating.
During the great strike a few years
ago, among the officials of the North
British railway much difficulty was
experienced in finding qualified engine
drivers to maintain the necessary train
service. Upon one occasion a young
fellow was put upon a section in Fife.
One day he ran some distance past a
certain station, and, upon putting back,
he went as far the other way. The
tationmaster, seeing him preparing
for another attempt, to the great I
amusement of the passengers on the
platform, shouted:
"Just bide where you are, Thomas;
we'll shift the station!" Tit-Bits.
Just the Thing.
First Friend (of intending groom)
Well, we'll have to give them a present.
What will it be and how much shall we
spend?
Second Friend I don't know. I'll go
as deep as you.
First Friend Let's send something
that will make a big show for our
money.
Second Friend All right. What's
the matter with a load of hay? Judge.
Use for the Small Boy.
Mrs. Watts Mary Ann, these balus
ters seem always dusty. I was at Mrs.
Johnson's after church, and her stair
rails are as clean and as smooth as
gla is.
Mary Ann Yis, mum. But she hat
free small boys. Boston Home Jour
nal Mrs. Hale (jut married) "Maria,
we will havo eels as a second course for
dinner." Maria "How much ought I
to get, ma'am?1 "I think twalve yards :
ia sufficient.' Vogue. j
Targe number ofjo were near
theWssinir AV.J of tl e aeri- 1
RELIGIOUS MATTERS.
THE SABBATH.
In the Spirit on the Lord's Day."
For the tired world what raptures blest
Thou givest birth, sweet day of rest!
liuptized with dews of purer grace,
Earth wears with thee a hearenlier face.
No sounds so plad fall on my ear
As when thy pleasant chimes s dear
Kin? out the week-day toil and dia
And ring the happy Sabbath in.
There seems a spirit In the air
Which loves Ood's presence to declare.
And draws the heart with tender chvrd
To heed the Father's loving words.
O would that we had ears to hear.
To-day, that Voice rise sweet and clear;
That reassured each soul might he.
Its spirit is, O God, with Thee.
With Thee in worship, here to find
The revelations of Thy mind;
For on this day, the rest shore.
God sets His kignet-rinr ot love.
Wm to the sacrilegious hand
That would efface it from the land.
To leave life one rubroken chain
Of days of toil fcr sordid gain.
Rowland Brown, In Christain Work.
THE SIN OF FRETTING.
Evil GrowlBg Out of Thin Disease Why
We Should Cultivate the Opposite Qual
ity. "Fret not thyself," says the psalmist.
Mankind has a proneness to be discon
tent with their condition. The million
aire would offer his possessions for the
health of the poor laborer and the happi
ness of his humble home; while that same
poor laborer would deem but a fraction
of the millionaire's wealth the richest
earthly gift that Heaven could bestow.
Man is discontented with his condition
w-hatever it may be. Fretting may be
classed as a disease a disease of the
souL At first it may be only acute
or spasmodic; and then, from the
force of habit, it becomes chronic,
and fretting, like drunkenness
and other sins, becomes habitual.
All of charity and love is crushed out
of our lives, and with nothing to make
smooth the path of life, we fret at the
prosperity of our neighbor, or what
seems to us his prosperity, and by our
fretting unfit ourselves for that same
prosperity or its enjoyment. The fret
ful spirit frets at the providence of
God, altogether forgetful that "all
things work together, for good to them
that love God;" that God may be deal
ing with them in mercy, and not in
judgment. The parents who are called
to lay away the child with whom they
feel "it is well," may fret at this dis
pesation of God's providence, and bit
terness may fill their hearts; but may
it not have been in mercy that God has
been dealing with them? Perhaps
God has been sparing them the deeper
and more bitter sorrow of seeing that
same child in a felon's cell, or a drunk
ard's grave, or branded with the brand
of a Magdalene.
It has been well said that "the ca
lamities that are going to happen have
caused more misery than those that
have happened." A fretful spirit never
sees the silver-lining of a cloud, but
only the blackness of despair and the
dire and dreaded calamities that will
result. Fretters become to themselves
prophets; never prophesying good, but
always evil; telling about things that
never have happened and are not likely
to happen, and by this fretting unfit
themselves for the enjoyment of the
blessings by which they are surround
ed. They make themselves miserable,
and not only themselves, but those
around them. Not only does a fretful
spirit do no good; it also does harm, in
that it unfits man for the duties of
life, and from the enjoyment which
jomcs from the performance of those
duties. Fretting is a 6in, and sin
brings its punishment. Israel mur
mured against God in the wilderness,
and was punished, all falling in the
wilderness save those two just men,
Joshua and Caleb. Are the sins of the
present less punishable than than these
committed in the wilderness?
If along the pathway of life we met
none 6ave those selfish, fretful persons,
life would be a bitter walk, indeed;
but there is a bright side to the picture.
Along the path are persons who, like
Paul, have learned in whatsoever state
they are, therewith to be content; per
sons who by their cheerfulness are dis
pensers of sunshine wherever they go.
They look not at the blackest cloud,
but beyond at the silver lining. Such
persons have been described by one as
The sunny soul that is full of hope.
And whose beautiful trust ne'r faileth:
The grass is green and the flowers are bright.
Though the winter storm prevaileth.
Such persons seem to be the minis
tering angels of God, sent to dispense
the sunlight of love along the path
way of life. They can go into the
homes of misery, want and woe, and
without being intrusive or obtrusive,
ministt-r to their wants and leave a ray
of sunshine that makes those homes
the better for their having been there.
They can go into the home of sorrow
and bereavement, and there, weeping
with those that weep, they minister
such consolation and comfort to those
sorrowing hearts, as give hope that the
sun will shine again for them. In the
communities where such persons live,
they a?e universally loved by the
young, the middle-aged and the old;
and when death claims them they are
truly riourned and missed. Oh! that
life m'ght have more such persons
alongi Is pathway, giving and taking
pleasure from the blessings by which
God has surrounded them!
There are some reasons why we
should try to be numbered with these
persons. God has surrounded us by
many '-hings for our comfort and en
joyment; and it is a duty we owe our
selves to fit ourselves to enjoy the
blessings God has given us. It is a
duty we owe our fellowman to shed
sunlight and love along his path, and
make his life one of sweet enjoyment.
But there is a higher duty, our duty to
God. It was Oid who said, "Fret not
thyself." and it is our duty to obey,
and with humble trust submit to His
will.
Then as a duty we owe ourselves,
our fellowman, and above all our God,
let ns all carefully cultivate cheerful
ness of heart and mind, and prayerfully
try to lay aside all discontent and fret-iitg-.
-Uaited Pieabjterian.
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A JAPAN LEGEND.
Simple bnt Very Important Truth Illus
trated by a Beautiful Story.
There is a beautiful legend that
comes to ns from the somewhat un
likely source, Japan, of the founder of
bells, who was ordered by the emperor
to cast a bell which should make the
most varied and ravishing music and
should be heard at the distance of one
hundred miles. From the coffers of
the emperor, gold and silver and brass
were supplied, in any quantity re
quired, so that all the metals, blended,
together, might give all the notes that,
a bell could produce. But after sev
eral attempts to cast a bell with many
metals, and repeated failure, the ein
perer lost patience with the founder,
and said that if he failed again he
should die. And then his daughter,
a young and beautiful girl, thought
that she would go to the oracle and
learn how the casting might be made;
and the oracle replied that only tha
blood of a virgin could make the met
als mingle and secure the casting of
the bell. Her resolution was at once
formed, and going into her father's
foundry when the metals were in the
chaldron, she put her cloak around,
her head and plunged into the chal
dron; and when the bell was cast, the
music rang out, and could be heard,
varied and beautiful, at the distance of
one hundred miles, nay, as some find
to-night, at the distance of half the
globe. For the simple truth lay there
that the music of the human soul is
never beaten out, and never sound
clear and sweet, penetrating, and sat
isfying, until sacrifice has occurred
and self has perished in the making of
the music. Boston Watchman.
THE GUIDE BOOK.
If Prayerfully Consulted It Will Point Ont
the Right and Safe Course.
The righteous cry, nnd the Lord heareth,
and delivereth them out of all their troubles.
Ps. xniv, 17.
The Bible makes it as clear as any
thing in language could, that God
wants His children to understand that
they can depend upon Him under all
circumstances. What wonder there
must be among the angels in Heaven if
they can look down upon nsand see all
this. God promising to be all things to
us, and to do for us more than we will
ask or think, and yet we remain so full
of doubt and fear that we will not
trust. When dangers begin to threat
en us, we lose our faith, and courage,
and peace, and instead of asking God to
lead and help, we disregard all of
His precious promises, and become
despondent and unhappy because we
forget that we still have a Friend who
is mighty to help. The safest thing to
do under any and all circumstances is
to make the Bible our guide-book
through this life. If prayerfully con
sulted it will always point out to u
the course that is right and safe, and
that course will always have for its
starting point: "Trust in God." "Trust
in the Lord with all thine heart; and
lean not unto thine own understand
ing," is the keynote of the whole book.
Trust Him for counsel, help an.l
strength. Trust Him to lead, direct
and keep. Trust Him to sustain in.
trouble and to comfort in grief. Trust
Him in the morning, at noon and at
night. Trust Him moment by moment,
day by day, and week by week. Make
trust in God the comer-stone of your
plan for life, Barn's Horn. .
Annoying and Providential.
Interruptions in our work are im
portant in their place, yet we are apt
to be impatieut of them. When we are
absorbed in some occupation in the
line of duty or of profitable pleasure, it
is annoying to be called away to attend
to some person in whom we have liitle
interest, but who seeks our sympathy
or help in his work or needs. Yet when,
the interruption is not of our choosing",
and one that can not properly be evaded
by us, it is clearly a providential order
ing, and we are to accept it as designed
for our good, and as being really better
forus than the privilege of uninter
rupted effort. There may be opportu
nities for interruption which we ought,
not to accept; but if we are interrupted
in spite of ourselves, we may under
stand that God knows what we need,
better than we know. S. S. Times.
SAGE SAYINGS.
Some Bright Bits of Trnth Taken From th
Ram's Horn.
The devil is always polite upon first
acquaintance.
We are sure to lose what we try to
keep God from having.
There is no more dangerous decep
tion than self-deception.
When we get in the wrong place our
right place is empty.
The devil has his hand over the eyes
of the man who does not give.
The golden calf men worship never
becomes a cow that gives milk.
If you get into the place God wants"1
you to have you will have a good one"
The devil has to work hard to get ai "
finger on the man who loves his libe.
No man who claims to be doing busi
ness for God has any right to use a
short yardstick.
A good man on his knees weighs more
than the biggest giant in the devil's
army.
The devil is not so much concerned
about our profession as he is about our
practice.
A poor man's all weighs as much on
the scales they use in Heaven as a rich
man's millions.
On the day when we have not done a
little good we have done a great deal
of mischief.
There are some preachers who only
appear to work at their trade only on
day in the week.
There is a bad flaw in our religion if"
we never pi&ise the Lord except whei
we feel like it.
There is not much Christ in the re
ligion that does not make its possessor'
more benevolent.
Church members who never smile will"
some day find out that God has some
what against them.
There are people who do not want t
call the devil by his right name, fo
fear they will offend a friend.
People who try to serve the Lord only
for gain would prefer to work for tb
devil at the same salaqr.
Machinery 'brtheTest "manufacture
In the world. Their
es
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