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About Plattsmouth weekly journal. (Plattsmouth, Neb.) 1881-1901 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 6, 1894)
ghtttsmoulh Journal. C. IV. SIIKU.tlAN, Publisher. rLATTSMOUTH. i i KEBHASKA. MY CHILDHOOD'S SUNDAY. 3fy great-great-great-great-grandfather. Whose heart through mine Is beating, "Believed good Puritan! 'twas sin Of ains to stay from meeting. On each Lord's day they gathered twice, A patient congregation, And heard two long discourses through As food for meditation. Hut oh. what rest from Saturday, How brisk a start for Monday Those grave old Pilgrim fathers had. "With their old-fashioned Sunday: "A vanished day." you say: and yet Fond memory's tears bedew It, Tor in my old Xew England home, A child, how well I knew It: It colored all my early thoughts. My life was built upon it: X always said '-my Sunday gown," My go-to-meeting bonnet." Here common, bustling workaday Were Saturday and Monday; JJut oh. my very best belonged To that old-fashioned Sunday. Once more the great green box-like pew. Its hlh wall 'round me closes: 1 sit. a nosegay on my breast ' How sweet the damask roses: I sofiiy wave my painted fan. And. by my Bide, my mother Sleets mine with look, half smile, half prayer. More sweet than any other. X loved the strolls of Saturday. The merry romps of Monday; But oh. I felt the holy charm Of that old-fashioned Sunday. They haunt me still, the many Texts And hymns I then committed. And never knew in learning them That I was to be pitied. Time changes all: yet we would trust Though change the world grows better; But oh. to the remembered pajt How much I feel a debtor: And oh. how hopeless Saturday. And wearisome were Monday. "Without the quiet rest between Of my old-tushioned Sunday! Marian Douglas, in N. Y. Independent. wdOp EVERAL Mex icans, in holi day attire, were walking' their horses throtiph a great grove of live-oaks in the San Gabriel valley, California. They came from a large ranch down the country, and were go ing to Los Angeles for the annual fiesta. Their saddles were of leather, richly chased, after the Spanish fash ion. The pommel of one was of silver, the rim of the saddle oi the same, and even the bridle was of silver, the bit "being handsomely inlaid. The riders wore big. broad-brimmed Iiats. or sombreros, with silver bands, richly colored trousers and botas while each carried a pay blanket, or serape. which had a hole for the neck, to be used if occasion required. This, with a long horsehair reata, or lariat, tied near the pommel, made up as picturesque a costume as one could imagine. The country was a succession of parks, with clumps of fine old oaks, whose long branches and limbs offered Crateful shade. Occasionally there were patches of bush and chaparral. fiving way azain to the open spots where the yellow fox-tail grass gleamed like gold, or the wild oat Tippled in the summer sun. Through such scenes of pastoral beauty the light-hearted horsemen were riding, passing the time with jokes and ban ter, when suddenly Jose Salvadea, who was ahead, stopped so abruptly that his horse fell Lack on his haunches, and motioned to the others for quiet- All drew rein, and. follow ing the direction of his pointed finger, saw a singular sight. In a little clearing, where the alfi laria had been green and rank in win ter, but was now a chocolate-colored mass upon the ground, ender four or five large trets, were fwo gigantic birds, so tall, so black and ugly with al, that they might have been carica tures of birds. One was tearing at a sheep, while the other, evidently hav ing dined to its content, stood by, its enormous wings extended, showing a spread of nine or ten feet. It was one of the rarest birds of America the great California condor caught in the very act of filohing from the owners of the soil a bird that has the reputa tion of devouring a sheep a day when opportunity offered. The loss of a sheep, or a dozen, amounted to little, but it was the sport of taking the great bird that attracted the horsemen, and as quietly as possi ble they untied their reatas, released and enlarged the coil, and waited for the word. They held the rope in the right hand, o that the noose, about four feet in length, hung free, and at the word, given by Juan, they put spurs to their horses and dashed at the birds. The latter were taken completely by surprise. One clumsily attempted flight and rose a few feet from the ground, when a rata went whirling' through the air, dropping over its neck, a pull bringing it to earth. The other bird, 6topetied by its stolen feast, fell an easy victim, two reatas falling 2r it, one dropping over its head, th other securing- its wing. As the ropes fell the men raised a shout. The horsas, trained in their runs after stock, braced back, expecting the hard pnll whiA a bullock gives when lassoed; but instead came a remark able scries of struggles. The condor caught by the head ran a short dis tance with a curious, hopping motion, then with a violent effort beat the ground and ihe air with its powerful wings, raising itself several feet into 'the air Ta sight of the enormous 2 Wj bird. Its waving wing's, its uncanny appearance, so demoralized the horses that they snorted, bucked and en deavored to run away. But they were quickly subdued and the flying condor was brought down with a jerk and the two birds were surrounded by the excited riders. Then followed a curious exhibition. The two birds began an extemporized dance around the circle, nopping like eagles, first on one foot, then on the other, uttering a low and vicious hiss. Around they went, pecking at the ropes, thrusting forward their bare and ugly heads, and apparently sub dued. But it was only for a moment. As if by concerted plan they hurled them selves at the horses, one on one side and one on the other, coming up against the animals with great force, striking them with their ponderous wings and pecking at them with their powerful bills. This onslaught again demoralized one of the horses, so that, rearing to escape the charge, he fell backward. Ilis rider slipped off in time, while the broncho roiled over and over, en tangled in the reata. The bird, prob ably equally frightened, sprang over his body, and. between a fusillade of kicks from the struggling animal, en deavored again to lly. But the rope held it securely, and even a California condor, with a spread of ten feet of wing, could not carry off a horse; so it was forced to come clumsily to the gro-jnd. The riders, now recovered from their confusion, amid much laughter as this was a rare but famous sport among native Californians began to take in their reatas, and soon had the great birds so that they were entirely submissive: and as they were unin jured, it was decided to carry them to Los Angeles. This was accomplished by carrying a bird between two horses, the wings spread apart to their full extent, and the tips of the pinions tied to the saddles; while beneath the birds, to support them so that they would not suffer, were placed doubled reatas. At first the horses seriously objected to this arrangement, but finally sub mitted, and the cavalcade took up its mareti, entering Los Angeles, which was then an adobe town, and depositing the condors at the plaza amid much excitement, the birds be coming one of the chief attractions of the fiesta. The California condor was formerly quite common, and was regarded as an enemy to the herder, its great size and voracious appetite making it a menace to sheep. Actual experiment showed that one of these birds would devour a sheep a day; and to illustrate their strength, four have been seen drag ging a young bear, which weighed over one hundred pounds, for a dis tance of six hundred feet. When gorged with food, the birds found it difficult to fly, and were thus, when surprised, often taken with the reata- The California condor is very like its South American ally in general ap pearance, not having the peculiar white collar. It is far from being ferocious, and is easily tamed or do mesticated. It presents an appearance of remarkable strength, and its pow ers of flight are such that it could easily carry away a child or a light animal. Such habits are often laid at its door, but are not founded on fact, the bird rarely, if ever, attacking hu man beings, and being totally unable THE KOFE3 FELL. from the nature of its claws to carry its prey away. In the air the condor presents a beautiful appearance, with its enor mous spread of wing, its perfect grace and ease of motion. Its pow er of soaring is one of the most re markable phenomena in bird-life. 1 appears to move about at will, rarely using its wings except to recover it self, and can pass over great distances in this way. The writer has seen the condor in the Sierra Madre region of southern California, where they oc casionally come down and alight in the big live oaks of the valley, aud has observed them so far above these mountains that they were but specks of black against the blue sky, and must have been nearly two miles above the sea. Even at this extraordinary heifrht it is said that they can distin guish their prey. So nnerring is their vision that it has been supposed that the bird sought its food by the sense of smell; but 6ight is in all probability the secret. The great bird is yearly becoming rarer. It is shot whenever seen, be ing valued at from fifteen to twenty five dollars for its skin. The herders have a wholesome fear of it- So now it is restricted to the high mountains, and will soon be a story of the past N. Y. Ledger. Not That Kind. "So your husband is sick?" said the sympathetic grocer to a regular cus tomer. "Yes, poor man." answered the wife; "he's pretty badly off." "What's the matter with him, hey? Fever?" "No, it ain't hay fever or grass fever; it's regular old fever'n ague," snapped the woman, and the sympathetic grocer held his peace. Detroit Free Press. The name of Prairie du Chien, is French, meaning dog prairie, from the abundance of prairie do?. FLOUR AND BREAD. A Statement Throwing Light on the Cos of a L-oaf. A statement made by one who has served manv years in the army as a commissary sergeant furnishes some interesting facts pertinent to the bread question. "During my term of service In the army I have been from Pembina to the gulf, and wherever I have been I have found bakers glad to take a barrel of flour from us and furnish bread as an equivalent, pound for pound, we re ceiving 190 pounds of bread for a bar rel of flour. The increase with water, yeast and potatoes (and good f. needs nothing else to make good bread) is computed at 33 per cent. The Washington bakers deeline to use po tatoes, as a rule, as it makes too much work; but it improves the bread and keeps it moist. In the army the company to which I lelouged was stationed for about a year atLibby prison, Richmond. Va., and during that entire period Mr. John Bagnall. a well known baker of that city, furnished bread for the company, receiving no other compensation than the ;Bls per cent, mentioned; and it is from that source and on that computation that the various forts and garrisons of the United States are enabled to keep up a post fund with which to meet con tingencies for which congress makes no appropriation. "So far as my experience has gone and I have had a large one there is not a city of the size of Washington in the United States furnished with poor er bread. Less than five bushels of wheat will make a barrel of clear flour, and pay for the milling. But bakers do not tise oiear flour; they use what is left of the wheat after the patent process (starch) lias been ex tracted from it, because, having more gluten in it, it absorbs more water, and gives a larger percentage of bread to a barrel of flour. Wheat was selling at Baltimore the other day at MB4 ?'.-nts and "4T cents. These figures will how that flour such as bakers use can le made, barreled- and laid down in Washington at S2.73 per barrel, and which the Washington bakers sell in the shape -of break for over SI". You will clearly see the rapacity of these men, when, as I have shown, other bakers all over the couutrv have been j not only willing, but anxious, to fur j nish bread for the profit of S3.li er i cent, on the barrel of flour. I forgot I to mention, too, that in purchasing a barrel of flour the purchaser has a barrel worth 25 cents, which brings the price of bakers flour down to S-."0. which. I do not doubt, is exactly what they pay for it. You may also have observed that the Bakers association purchases flour for all of the associa tion, and that it is furnished accord ing to the needs of the members. By this means all are forced to use the same quality of flour, let it be good or bad. and the next time j'ou get poor bread, examine some other baker's product, and the chances are that the quality will be the same. This will indicate that the flour is bad." Washington Star. ELDERLY WOMEN. Old Ace, After All. May lie Only a Matter of Imagination. An Englishman said, the other day. that in America the elderly women has disappeared, and this superficial ob server ascribed her elimination to the fashions. Not only, he declared, does the mother dress like the daughter, but the grandmother is gowned like the mother. There is no doubt that the distinctions which used to exist be tween the dress of the mother of thirty and the woman of sixty or more have largely been abolished. But this is a result, and not a cause. The fact is that at no age are American women any longer set aside ns having out grown the period of usefulness. Women of all sorts nowadays have wider interests than had their grand mothers or even their mothers. Also, they understand tiie laws of health, of hygiene and of rational dressing much i better. Thus the mind preserved and constantly reanimated. One is eon I stantly reawakened, while the body is j of the potent factors in the disanpear I ance of the elderly woman has leen the woman's club. Here she finds her self in touch "vith the vital interest.-, of the day and supplements her early knowledge with the latest current in formation. Through it she has become a notable influence in politics, and by means of it organizes her activities into various useful and diverting channels. What vionder, then, that she continues I to be bright, cheery and omnipresent? ! In social gatherings and festivities women of all ages congenially mingle. , The up-to-date girl is invited out to dinner with her elders by many years. Each appeals to the opposite sex with a charm of her own. and general socie ty is greatly the cainer. The placid old lady by the fireside, in snowy cap and sober garb, is not to be forgotten: but who shall say that the cultivated : and wide-awake woman who has so largely taken her place is not equally well suited to the times we live in? X. Y. Press Sweetening In Ul Toil. As her eyes rested upon the patient figure of her husband her heart smote her. "Dearest." He started timidly, seemingly discon certed by her unwonted manner. "Dearest," she repeated, tenderly, "those biscuits were better than mother used to make." He was silent, but. as he finished washing the dishes and proceeded to sew a button on her bloomers, a glad smile irradiated his countenance. A kirtdly word had lifted his burden. Detr, t Tribune. The duke of Orleans intimates that he will hustle for the crown of France. The duke is quite a hustler. It will be remembered that he hustled into France, and then the French govern mi nt did some hustling on its own ac count. He was hustled into Jail, and then, xfter he had cooled down lie wus hnstled ont a' franco. The duke knows --M alxm' hustltng. PERSONAL AND LITERARY. Justice J. M. Harlan, who is "men tioned"' for the republican presidential nomination in 1800, is a physical giant, being the largest, and, next to Gray, the tallest man on the supreme bench, lie is sixty-one years old. bald and in fine health. He is bluff, hearty, very popular, and greatly in demand at din ner parties. Miss Bacon, a young Englishwom an, enjoyed a most fascinating and ex hilarating outing last summer. She cycled from London to Scotland, re turning through Wales and the lake district, a distance, in all, of twelve nundred miles, alone; was gone two days less than a month, and the total cost of her holiday was fifty dollars. When the timid colonial clergy men were, afraid to criticise Aaron Burr's treason, they asked Lorenzo Dow what he thought of Burr's mean ness. He raised loth hands like a great V. and shouted: "Aaron Burr, mean! Why, I could take the little end of nothing whittled down to a point, punch out the pith of a hair, and put in forty thousand such traitor souls as Ins, shake "era up, and they'd rattle. Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont has been elected president of a new chap ter of the Daughters of the American Revolution which has been formed in Los Angeles, Cal. The fourteen char ter memliers of the chapter represent many famous colonial patriots. At the opening session, tea was brewed in camp-kettles that are heirlooms in the Darsey family, and were used by Wash ington and Lafayette in the revolu tionary war. The personal appearance of Jean Kiehepin. who is descrild as the most versatile genius in all France since the death of Victor Hugo, must impress the stranger" who meets him for the first time. He is pictured as a tall, burly man, handsome in a brutal style, with u low brow, a thick neck, dilated nos trils and a general air of athletic calm and intellectual vacuity. A personali ty of the John L. Sullivan kind such an this is unusual in a famous author. Philadelphia Press. The late F. W. Bird, the distin guished paper manufacturer of Wal nole. was a believer in a somewhat un- ! usual cure for sickness of all sorts. i For nearly forty years it was his prac tice to remain in bed all one day every week. He would read and sleep, and when it was absolutely necessary for any caller to see him, he had to see him in led. and only a few were permitted to do this. When Mr. Bird was forty years old he was an invalid, yet his practice kept him alive nearly fifty years longer. Shelley's monument at Viareggio has at last leen unveiled. The Italians were the principal contributors to the work, but besides the names of De Amicis, Bonghi. Cavalotti and Menotti Garibaldi as constituting the commit tee in charge, were those of Mr. Glad stone and Mr. Swinburne. The follow ing inscription is on the monument: "To Percy Bysshe Shelley. Heart of Hearts. Drowned in the sea; cremated on this spot, where he composed "Crometheus Unbound.' A posthumous page wherein every generation will have a token of its struggles, its tears nnd its redemption." HUMOROUS. The hardest work any man can undertake, is to try to manage him self. Ham's Horn. "The men will find a woman's pocket if she gets to running for of fice," says the Frankford sage. Phila delphia Record. There is a difference in the way A modern maiden's heart will soften: To this young man '-come off" she'll say; While to that one it is -come often." Buffalo Courier. "What do you understand by the term 'platonic afFection'?" "It usually means that the young man feels that he can not afford to marry." Indian aolis Journal. Husband "Another milliner bill? Why, I paid one only day before yes terday!" Wife "Day before yester day? Goodness, how time flies!" Flicgende Blatter. "How is your daughter fretting I along witn nor piano." splendid. replied Mr. Pinehpenny, "She bought it on the installment plan an' hot got it "most paid fur." Washington Star. Tom "Why, Bessie. I could kiss you right under you mother's nose. Bessie (with dignity) "I should very much prefer, sir, that you'd kiss me under my own nose." Scottish Amer ican. Patron (to laundryman) "John, how did it happen that the Japanese killed so many Chinaman in the last battle?" John "Notee know. May bee bigee rain makes bad runnee." X. Y. Weekly. "Is it true that Ilouser is hustling for the post office?" "Gupss it is. I heard his wife tell him if 1 e didn't get her letter mailed inside of twenty min utes she'd know the reason why." Buf falo Courier. "Have you a time table hero?" asked the seedy stranger. "Our terms," re plied the restaurant keeper, "are cash in advance." "Foiled again," hissed the seedy stranger between his useless teeth. Indianapolis Journal. First Lobster "It's getting lone some here now, with all the society bathers gone." Second Lobster ' 'Never mind; we are liable to meet them after supper this winter, and then we'll get the rest of our fine work in." Syracuse Post, The Daughter ''Can't you let me have that one hundred dollars, father' I once heard yon say that you would give your last cent to your children " The Father "Yes, but I haven't pot ta my last cent yet." Munsej-'s Maga sine An Irish judge had a habit of beg frmg pardon on every occasion. One day. as he was about to leave the bvr.ch, the officer of the court reminded him that he had not paastwl sentence of death on one of the criminals, us he had intended. "Dear me!" said hia LordtVip: "I ,lcg his pardon brinjr him i v.. "TP. -Bits. FOR SUNDAY READING. THANKSGIVING SONG. Thank the Lord for all the mercies He has showered upon our land; Tbank Him that He still has held us In the hollow of His hand: Thank Him for th dawn of morning. For the noontide's golden beams; Thank Him for the dewy nightfall. Wooing u to pleasant dreams. Thank the Lord for all His bounties. For the fruit upon the tree. For the flower that blooms in springtime. For the bird und for the bee: Thank Him for our homes and firesides. Dearer far than mines of wealth: Thank Him with our hearts and voices For the priceless gift of health. Thank Him for our creature cossforts. For the oil and for the wine; Thank Him for the -feast of fat taints. For the fig and for the vine: Thank Him for the bounteous harvest. For the fields of golden grain. For the nooks upon the hillsides. For the late and early rain Thank the Lord for all the mercies He has showered upon our wiiy: Thank Him for the loved ones guttered Kound our festal board to-day: And while mem'ry pictures fondly Some dear face we see no more, Thank Him for the loved ones waiting Over on the other shore. Helen V. Clark, in fiolden Days. HOW BEST TO BE THANKFUL. It Is to Kelieve the Won and Wants of Others a to Christ and for llii Sakr. The impulse to make some requital for favors received is instinctive and universal. If verbal thanks are all we can give, we feel bound to render them. If able to reciprocate favors, we have a sense of obligation to do so. If a benefactor chooses to designate some other person or persons to whom re turn for his kindness to us shall be made, the obligation extends to them. To the question of a grateful Wne ficiary: "'What can I do for your kind ness to me?" it is common to hear the answer: "Do a similar favor for others whenever you can." Sometimes the children or grandchildren of a bene factor receive help and protection from those he has assisted years be fore. The obligation of gratitude never ceases until it is paid. When an earthly friend does us a favor, we are usually not at a loss to find some suitable expression of grati tude for it: but when God crowds our lives with innumerable mercies, which are rich every evening and new tvery morning, we may well pause to inquire with the Psalmist: "What shall I ren der unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" What appropriate ac knowledgment can we make for bless ings so vital that existence would be impossible without them, and so many that they can not be reckoned up in order: and if we would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered? We can not recipro cate God's favors; can not "come unto His seat" and pour gifts at His feet, as did the Magi of old. We can not do anything to enrich Him or add to the completeness of His being. AVhat. then, shall we reader unto Him for all benefits? We can thank and praise Him for His good ness. And this is the right and manly thing- to do. "It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord," and "to sing praises unto our God; for it is pleasant, and praise is comely." Private and public verbal thanks and songs of praise to the Giver of all good are ra tional and appropriate expression of gratitude for His bounties. So the psalmist evidently thought when he said: "I will take the cup of salvation j and call upon the name of the Lord I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all His people." And since the world began there has been no singer of God's praises equal to the psalmist. We can find no better summary of God's goodness in which to voice our own gratitude than this: "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits: Who for- giveth all thine iniquities; Whohealeth ! all thy diseases; Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; Who crowneth thee with lovingkindnesses; Who sat- isfieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's." But spoken thanks alone do not sat isfy the impulses of any truly grateful heart. We nusf, be thanks givers as tvell as thanks speakers. And we may as truly make gifts to God as if we could carry them to His seat and lay them at His footstool, for He has told us repeatedly that gifts to His needy ones are received as given directly to Him. To those who had fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited tthe sick and imprisoned. He said: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these My brethren, ye hae done it unto Me." He has so identified Himself with suffering hu manity that we give to Him by giving to the needy. This, then, is the best thanksgiving, that our ears are ever open to the cry of human want, and that according to our ability we relieve that want ; with out this practical giving of thanks to God by gifts to those He has desig nated and commanded us to help, our verbal thanks are "vain oblations." Faith without works is not more dead than praises to God who are deaf to the cries of distress about them. They are neither sincere nor acceptable to God. Besides gifts to those in want, the best Thanksgiving also includes the highest gift in our power to make, the gift of ourselves to God, the consecra tion of all our powers and means to llfs service. That is the logic of God's relation to us as our creator, preserver, redeemer and daily benefactor. So the apostle declares: "Ye are not your own, ye are bought with price: there fore, glorify God in your bodies and spirits, which are His;" and: "I be seech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, accepta ble unto God which is your reasonable service." N. W. Christian Advocate. Th Way to Knowledge. When tempted to wish that God would tell us just what we ought to do and o -gut not to do, we will always do well to ask ourselves if we have done all that God has told us to do. . The path of obadiaaea is the way to LinowieJe. GOD'S WONDERFUL PEACE. It Can Be Obtained Throne, li I.ove for God and All That lie Has Made. This is a peace which "passeth all understanding;" yet it is a matter of conscious possession unto those who have it. A man ma know that he has the peace of God while utterly failing to comprehend it, and this is not ex traordinary, for while every man knows that he has life. Done can give to himself or to others a satisfactory explanation of what that life is. We look over the realm of nature and are greeted with the fragrance of the flower, with the overflowing life of the plant and with the harmony of pur pose manifested in the animal king dom: we know th?t these things are, but can not understand from whence they come nor whither they go. How can the peace of God be ob tained? Through iove love for all; first, the love for God. and then for all things that He ha: made. Before we can truly love a thing, we must havo sympathy with it a feeling together a consciousness that the motive of our own existence and of that of the ob ject loved have been merged into one. We can not love Christ, if we are at variance with Him, and failing to love Him, the peace of God can not fall to our share. A true love for Christ is a surrender of self to Him. His motives must be ours. His life the pattern, which we most closely follow. How absurd would seem the proposi tion, that an individual would won tonly injure or destroy any object, on which his affections were set. Nature is full of manifestations of this princi ple. There is that eternal and ever abounding exemplification, the love of the mother for her offspring. While that love lasts, the mother's life is swallowed up in the child's. As the child grows older and reciprocates his life becomes what the mother has made it. In all relations where love exists, no discord can mar the harmony so long as the love' itself continues. But even as the love of God is far greater than can possibly be the love of any human being, so much greater is the peace which He gives to those who truly love Him. The symbol of this love is service, and the reward that peace which passeth all under standing. Young Men's Era. STUDYING THE BIBLE. Why Time Should Be Taken to Make Fa miliar Its Page. As we drift along the swift, relent less current of time toward the end of life; as days and weeks and months and years follow each other in breath less haste, and we reflect now and then for a moment that, at any rate for us, much of this earthly career has passed irrevocably; what are the interests, thoughts, aye, the books, which really command our attention? What do wa read and leave unread? What time do we give to the Bible? No other book, let us be sure of it, can equally avail to prepare us for that which lies before us; for the unknown anxieties and sorrows which are sooner or later the portion of most men or women; for the gradual approach of death; for the period, be it long or short, of waiting and preparation for the throne and face of the eternal Judge. Looking back from that world, how shall we desire to have made the most of our best guide U it! How shall we grudge the hours we have wasted on any be they thoughts, or books, or teachers which only belong to the things of time! Canon Liddon. CONDITION OF FREEDOM. I Is Not In Sin Bnt in Obedienre to Christ That True Freedom Is Oained. The highest, truest and only real freedom known to man, or possible for him, is that inner disposition which leads invariably to obedience to Christ. He who sins serves, and he serves a bad cause and indicates an inner debase ment and a bondage. Freedom in variably implies purity. Water loaded with mud. however it may rush in channels open for it, is not free water. The soul of man, however it may fol low its own impulses, is not free whil it willeth to serve the devil. This very taint of corruption is an addition to it, a something not belonging there, a mixture of originally foreign elements. Only when that which has come into the soul by the influence of tempta tion is removed, can man be free. "If therefore the Son shall make you free ye shall be free indeed." Christian In quirer. Watching for Defect. The machinist in a large factory has a keen eye for weak points. A flaw in the shafting here or a broken lace in a belt there may stop the whole factory. He loses no time in strengthening the weak place. Now it does not take long for a thoughtful man or woman to dis cover the weak point in his or her char acter if a proper watchfulness is ob served. Bear off the pressure till it can be made strong and reliable. Interior. WISDOM BY THE AUTOCRAT. Lsspirinc Thonghts From the Pen of Oliver Wendell Holmes. The Amen of nature is always a flower. Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle that fits them all. Knowledge and timber shouldn't be much used till they are seasoned. Men. like peaches, grow sweet a lit tle while before they begin to decay. How many people live on the reputa tion of the reputation they might have made. There are times when every active mind feels itself above any and all hu man books. , I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand as in what direction we are moving. The great minds are those with a wide span which couple truths related to but far removed from each other. A thought is often original, though you have uttered it a hundred times. It has come to you over a new route by an express train of associations. Talking is like playing on the harp; there is as much in laying the hand on the strings to stop their vibrations as in twanging them to bring out tnsi I music