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About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 8, 1897)
INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. CIIAPTBK V. MB public vagon ctte In which Mer Jorlc was to jour ney home ran dally between Dumfries and Annuiunoui h, a small seaside vil lage much frequent ed In summer for Its sea-bathing, and ' passed within half a mile of Mr. Dor rallies abode, which was just six Scotch miles away from Dumfries Itself, The starting place was the Kotitty Jean Commercial Inn an establishment, said to have been much patronised by the poel Kurus (luring his residence in the south of Kcotland; and hither Marjorie, after leaving her tutor, proceeded with out delay. The wagonette war about to Sturt; null Marjorie hastened to lake her place. The vehicle was drawn by two powerful horses, and could accommo date a dozen passengers Inside and one more on the seat of the driver; but today there were only a few going— three farmers and their wives, a sailor on his way home from sph, and a couple of female farm servants who had come in to the spring ''hiring.” All these had taken their seats; hut John Suth erland stood by the trap waiting to hand Marjorie In. She stepped in and look her place and the young man found a seat at her side, when trie driver took the reins and mounted to his seal, and with waves and .onlies (he Bonny Jean Inn, and a cheer from a very small boy on I he pavement away i hey went. At last the vehicle reached the cross-roads where John and Marjorie were to alight. They leapt, out, and pursued their way on foot, the young man carrying a small hanil-vallse, Marjorie still holding her school books underneath her arm. Presently they came to a two-an hed bridge which spanned the Annan. They paused Just above the keystone. The young man rested his valise on the mossy wall, and both looked thought fully down at the flowing stream. "It's many a long year, Marjorie, since we first, stood here. I was a bare footed callant, you were a wean scarce aide to run; and now l'ru a man, and you're almost u woman. Yet here's the Annan beneath us. the same as ever, and It will be the same when we're both old—-always the same." Marjorie turned her head away, and her eyes were dim with tears. "Come away,” she said; "I cannot tear to look at It! Whenever 1 watch the Annan I seem to see my mother's drowned face looking up at. me out of the quiet water.” The young man drew closer to her, and gently touched her hand. “Don't greet, Marjorie!” ho mur mured softly; “your poor mother's at peace with <Jod.” "Yes, Johnnie, I ken that," answered the girl In a broken voice; “but it's sad. sad, to have neither kith nor kin, and to remember the way my mother died—ay, and not even to be able to guess her name! Whiles I feel very lonesome, when I think It all o'er.” "And no wonder! But you have (hose that love vou dearly. for all that. There’* not a lady in the country more thought of than yourself, anil wherever your bonny faco ha* come It ha* brought comfort” A* he spoke he took her hand in his own, and looked at her very fondly; hut her own gaze was far away, fol lowing her wistful thoughts. “You're all very good to me,” she said presently, "Mr. Lorraine, and Solo mon. and all my friends; but, for all that, I miss my own kith and kin.” He bent his face close to hers, as he returned: “Some day, Marjorie, you'll have a house and kin of yuur own. aud then _»> He paused, blushing, for her < tear, stead fust eyes were suddenly turned dill upon his face. "What do you mean. Johnnie?'' “I mean that you'll marry, and llrlghtuese broke through the cloud, and Marjorie smiled "Marry? la It me? It's early in the day to think of that, at seventeen!" "Other youug lusscs think of It, Mar iorto. and so must you. Our Agues married last Martinmas, and the was ..til) a year older than > ourself. * Marjorie shook her In-.id. then her fate grew add agalu as In r eyes tell it|>nn Auiian water "l ot Min-tosty'd balm. ske . re d. '•ml *hnil he aaehody a a tt«., John nie.” Han't say Hut. Marjorie, ’ an •««Mi Hetherlawd, atlll ketdllM pel < bead sl.it preegtag It fondly ’ I hcre » owe ilia! loses you dears, than aai • tong else m wit ike world " 11 •h. tooted at hl’n .tihll.sl) « «]| I I Me late gushed ererlrt T bwow you luo m< Jokah.e ,>* t- ! iwi iM. my see bi..ti*s< .1 M*m« IM* >ihet. Merjurh m >re .. 1 l|i J M s *. ' l|. |.»«.tg si is sen i W •* nesatewe‘ .*ty " Ah* It !,« to. ( a '•< >»lwd a id'., aw1 liM-e t ■ i. : I ' mg tn<W mu. h M. « .n. *. e«. it 1 U. * and MM you »• *>>-* 'he j ‘ t> >*' t, end >to> m m y■* lit * m t t. f I ve striven hard and hoped to oeeonie a painter, It has all been for love of you. I know my folk arc poor, and that In other respects I’m not .1 match for you. who have been brought up us a lady, hut there will he neither peace nor happiness for me In this world un less you consent to become my wife." As he continued to speak she had become more and more surprised and more surprised and startled. The sudden revelation of wliai no ninny people kuew. bin which she hi i self hail never suspected, came upon her as it shock of sharp pain; so that when he ceased, trembling rind eon fused by the vehemence of his own confession, she was quite pale, uni all the light, seemed to have gone out of her beautiful eyes us she replied: "Don't talk like that! You're not serious! Your wife! I shall he ‘nae body’a wife,' as I said, but surely, sure ly not yours.” "Why not mine, Marjorie?” he cried, growing pale In turn. “I'll work day and night; I'll neither rest nor sleep until I have a home fit for you! You shall he a lady O! Marjorie, tell me you care for me. and will make mo happy!” "I do car# for you, Johnnie; i car# for you so much (hat I can't bear to hear you talk as you have done. You have been like my own brother, and now——” "And pow I want to he something nearer and dearer. Marjorie, speak to i MV I'onv IVII » ,T«HI It: Hill, iilJKiy. "Angry with you, Johnnie?'’ she re plied, smiling again, and giving him both hands. "As If 1 could he! Ilul you must be very good, and not speak of it again.’’ She disengaged herself and moved slowly across the bridge, lie lifted his valise and followed her anxiously. “I know what It Is,” lie said sadly, as they went on side by side.togelher. ''You think I’m too poor, and you w mid he ashamed of my folk." She turned her head and gazed at him in mild reproach. “Oh, how can you think so hardly of me? I love your mother and father as II they were my own; and as for your being poor, I shouldn't like you at ull ir you were rich. Hut," she added g'-nt ly, "I like you us my brother best." "If I could he always even thai I should not mind; hut no, Marjorie, you’re too Isinny to hide alone, and If any other man came and took you from me. It would break my heart." "What nonsense you talk!” she ex claimed, smiling again. "As if any oth er man would care. If I were twenty, It would he time enough lo talk like that; but at seventeen oh, Johnnie, you almost make me laugh!" "Tell me one thing,” he persisted: "tell me you don’t like any one better than you like me.” "I don’t like any one half so well, except, except—Mr. Lorraine.” “You are sure, Marjorie?" "Quite sure." “Then I’ll hide my time and wall." By this time the village was In sight, anil they were soon walking aloitg i.he main street, which was as sleepy and deserted as usual. Kvon at the tavern door not a soul was to bo seen; but the landlord’s face looked out from behind the window-pane with a grim nod of £1 cuuift. nuuni'fl IM'yUIKI I.I1C Inn, Sutherland paused dose to a small, one-storied cottage, In front of which was a liny garden laid out in pansy beds. “Will you come in. Marjorie?” lie asked doubtfully. Marjorie nodded and smiled, and without another word lie opened the garden gate, crossed the walk, and led the way into the cottage. CHAPTER VI. 8 they entered I he door a loud hum ming sound eame upon their ears, mingled with the sound of voices. Turning t o the light, they found themselves on the threshold of a iiinm. half parior. hslf kitchen, at one rud til which was a large loom, when in elderly man. of grave anil some what careworn aspect, was busily weav ing. Smtwl on a chair close to him was a girl of about fourteen, dreused in !w ordinary pettlethil aud short gowa. tud reading aloud from a book Ai the ilher end of the room, where there WOS •n open ingle and a Are. an elderly natron rooking. Suddenly there was an evcUmallun low the latter. * ho waa the first to let reive the rlttraun of the aewisitu rw. * .lohnnt* ' ’ eh# « rad. holding out her tin*, and ia aaoihtr m. com »ge had *i I* *t her etui in her » m.<r4* . tud w luting him fondly. Ytie tow a# git | ruw. Matting. b*a>k in > .. t a d i the man reased hi* w>1*>lug, but i • iuot.it I tfuit# ailtt ta hi* chair . her# i am muiher tnj i t* r. taka company ae jva m*' “'IVM t g' vl ye Mktjviei** t»od a* is oil unkiing tie bar i.1 Ii I |t . * r* «i |o set you. bwm fa - Ml yr nvv b, tV# |yt* 1 'It 'k*' my t at Ian* '.f « *u> * ' I in a tit. j>. uimi.nl voire. In’ withcti turning hi- head. Ill- Intercity wm i mm apparent lit tv m stone lillud. John Sutherland wallo.i neros.. tin I mom. : me iii. sister a |i :• -fur ki** dint placed his )ia:ul .iff.. ; innately 01 j llo olil man's shoulder. “It's yonrsel'. my lad! I ken you ms. 1 I feel your breath about me! Wha I way did ye no write to n il us you w< ri on tb< road liuuie?" I “I huh no! sure illllil I lie last 111' merit that I eoutd stall so -non, blit jumped Into the iraln last night, a>e down I eaine." “Who's alang wl' you?'' asked tie weaver, smiling. ''I'll wager It.'* Mur jorle Annan!" “Yes. Mr. Sul licrland," auswerei Marjorie, crossing the room and join ing the little group. "I inet, Johnnie It Dumfries, and we came home together. The weaver nodded his head gently und the smile on his face lightened lnt< loving sweetness. “Stand close, side by Hide." ho said “while I tak' a long look at halth o ye.” “While you took at us!" echoed Mar jorle In surprise. "Ay, and what, for no? Dlnnn think because my bodily een are Id.ml, that ennnn see weel wl' the een o’ my soul Ay, there you stand, lass and lad mj hoy John and Marjorie Annan; halt! fall’, halth wl' blue een; John prood am glad, and Marjorie blushing by bh side; and I see whHt you eanna see i light all roond and abune ye, comini out o' the golden gates o' Heaven' Stand still u wee and bark! Do ye hem nothing? Ay, but I can hear! J sound like klrk-betls ringing far awa'.' As lie spoke he sat with shining face as If he Indeed gated on the sweet vis Ion he was describing Marjorie grt v red as fir*’, und cost down her eyes for she was only too conscious of thi old man's meaning, and, rememberlm what had tsken place that day, she fel constrained und Almost annoyed. Join Sutherland shared her uneasiness, am In divert the conversation Into unothe ehnunel, lie spoke to Ills young el e t who stood stalling close by. Marjorie, uneasy lest I hi old man'i dreamy talk should again tube an awk ward turn, was determined to make li' i cue a pe. "Oood-bye now. Mr. Sulherland she said, taking Ills hand In here must run home; Mr. I.orralm will I" expecting me." And before any oti< could . a> a v,op to detain tier, she was crossing * I.' threshold of the cottag'. Young diith erland followed her as far as the gar den gate. "Marjorie," lie said, "I hope you p not angry?” "No. no," she replied, "hut I wui your father would not talk us it w« were courting, Johnnie. II makes mi feel so awkwurd, and you know It , not true.” "Old folk will talk," said John Hu n erland, "and father only speaks out o the fullness of his heart. He Is fond of you, Marjorie!" "I know that, and I of litre that why It troubles me to hear him ■•all like that." There was a moment's pause He Sutherland sadly held out Ills hand ••Well, good-bye, Just now I'll In looking ye up at the manse!” "Oood-bye!" she answered. "Conu soon! Mr. I-ermine will he so glm to see you," So she hastened away, while Hut ir land, with a sigh, stood looking at' her. He had loved her so long and silently, and now for the first time '.' his life he began to dread that him might not love him In return. To him Just then. It seemed us If all the won was darkened, the blue sky cloud. 1 all the sweet spring weather tom m with a wintry sense of fear. (TO HE CONTINUED. I ORANGES WITH HORNS. Home Mintage Varieties of tlie I riO tiraua by the t hlaese. The Chinese ate very fond of morn stroiia forma of fruit ami flowers, am any departure from the normal form !► usually cherished and highly valued In their gardens they have numerou* forms ol mon.itrotis oranges snnu will produce fruit with points llki hi gers, and are known us the Ham! Orange. Another form, says Meehan s Monthly, haa u long born projecting from the apex, and they are. known nr the Horn Orange. Another variety which botanists have known by tlo name of Citrus aurantlum dlatortum hears n fruit In the resemblance of cluster of sea shells. To one Ign ra.l! of the laws of vegetable ntorpholo* these spells of wander!UK front the normal ty|»e uie very mysterious, but when it Is understood that all part* ■ the orange, as well as other fruits, ar. made up of what would have beet leaves or brunches changed su ns to c mmttute the various parts of the seed and need vessels, and that a very little difference In the degree of life enemy will change them Into various different parts that eotUr to make up tlte fruit, the mystery tu a great ureas urt Is solved There ate few brute In* of botany whi#b give the lover of fruits and flowers so tough pleasure as the study of morphology. I lent |S«4. t «m> from the tsar news, temkrkv.! Mr« **““g>* that arts era) ntagaatn* have l*e«-i* Iapt4ted." tv*,' replied Mr rtgaggs. "I sui pws (It* idijctl h to pt< vent the tu Inst less Hi Hag iksir pas- s with w. sritt’k* tor the wsst iitmt llu yraia l*i<t*t*utg rtituSkb I'vlegittpk Tft* issstrwv relMivwty rtrk>M mi siitise are! krone-I «all* Hs Irprllll and TMMto.it Vwstrwlta has Ik* mm** • keep, her via haa the grwatew UamWet d pig • its Ik* pwpuiMotsi TALM AGE’S SERMON. ‘HUSTICITY IN A PALACE" SUNDAY'S SUBJECT. I'rrit from f hr Tul: ( Iwfi ter At.V., Verve 'ft*, it. Itllltiw.: "I VV Ml (fit null tore Him It.’fwre f llle," - 4'"ti". 11 rent V ett r*. At’OlI li.nl long tolnt'f panned (lie hundred year tnllc utone. In * hone tlmey pefiple were jlfxtlngui»heil for longevity, tu the I'cntnrle* after, per koiih lived to great i age. OalaO, the moat celebrated phyalelan of hla time, took no little of hi* own inedl I'lrie, that lie IIveil lo one hundred unit forty yearn A man of undoubted vera city on the wlioea* maud In England * wore that he remembered an event one hundred and llfty yearn before laird llae ni upt aka of u countcwi who had rut three «'Im of teeth, and died at one hundred and forty yearn, Jor eph t’rele, of I'enUMylvanla, lived one hundred and forty yearn. In 18f>7 a book wua printed containing the nameN of thlrty-nevcii peraon* who lived one hundred and forty year*, and the name* of eleven peraon* who lived one hun dred and fifty year*. Among the grand old pi-ople of whom we have reeord w«* Jacob, the tihepherd of the text, lint he bud a bad lot oi boy*. They were Jeulou* and ambition* and every way unprincipled. Joaeph, however, aeemed to lie *n ex ception, but lie had been gone many year*, and the probability wa» that lie wan deoil. Ah aouietlme* now In a bou*e you will find kept at the table a va cant chair, a pluie, a kutfe, a fork, for some ileeeusoU uiciiii«-r or me Jimmy, so Jacob kept In bis heart it place fin Ills beloved Joseph, There sits the old man, ihc flock of one hundred and for ty years In their flight having slight ed long enough to leuve (be marks of their claw on forehead and check and temple. Ills long heard snows down over his cheat. Ilia eyes are some what dim, and he can see further when they are dosed than when they are open, for he can see clear hack Into the time when beautiful Haehel, his wife, was living, and his children shook the Oriental abode with their merriment. The centenarian Is sitting diearning over the pust. when he hears a wagon rumbling to the front door. He gets up and goes to the door to see who bus arrived, anil Ills long ubsent sons from Kgypt come In and announce to him that Joseph, Instead of being dead, Is living In an ICgyptian palace, with all the Investiture of prime minister, next In the king in the mightiest erapln of all the world! The news was too sud den and too glad for the old man, and his cheeks whiten, and he has a dazed look, and his stair falls out of Ills hand and he would have dropped had not the sons caught him und led him to u lounge and put cold water on his face, and fanned him a little. In that hulf delirium the old man mumbles something about his sou Jo seph. He says: "You don't mean Jo seph, do you? my dear son who has been dead so long? You don’t mean Jo seph, do you?" Hut after they bad fully resuscitated him, and the newH was confirmed, the tear* began their winding way down the crossroads of the wrinkles, and the sunken lips of the old man quiver, und he brings his bent fingers together as he says: "Jo seph Is yet alive. 1 will go and see him before I die." It did not take the old man a great while to get ready, 1 warrant you. He put on his best clothes that the shep herd's wardrobe could afford. He got Into the wagon, and though the aged _ nn/l I 11/ a* elil,. oli,.., . I.. wugon (lid not got along fast enough for this old man; and when the wagon with the old man met Joseph's chariot coming down to meet him, and Joseph got out of the chariot aud got into the wagon and threw his arms around Ills father's neck, it was an antithesis of royalty aud r us''.city, of simplicity and pomp, of filial affection aud putcrnul love, which leaves us so much in doubt whether we hud better laugh or cry, that wo do both. So Jacob kept tin resolution of the text—"I will go and see him before i die.” What a strong and unfailing thing ts puternal attachment! Was it not al most time for Jacob to forget Joseph J The hot suns ot many summers had blazed on the heuth; the rivet Nile hue overflowed and receded, overflowed and receded agaiu and again; the seed hud been sown and the harvests reaped stars rose and set; years ol plenty ului years of famine had passed on; hut the love of Jacob for Joseph In my text Is overwhelmingly drama)le. Oh. (hat la a cord that Is not snapped, though pulled on by many derodes. Though when the little rhlld expired the par ent may not have I sun more than tweuty-flve yetrs of age, and now they are eeventf-Itve, yet the vision of the •radio, and tho childish I c and the Aral utterances of tho Infant lie lips are 1 freak to day in spile of the pa*sage j of a half century Joseph was aa fresh I In J stub's memory se ever, though at I seventeen years of age the boy had die I appeared from the old homestead 1 ; found tn our family record the story j of an Infant that had died Aft* years ' t>» lor t, au'i I **! ! la it** "Wist I la this record amt whet does II mean? their rhtef altcwei as* a long deep 1 sigh It tnoa yet to them a very ten der sorrow What dues that all mean* i Why, It means our ehlldrea departed . •re ours yet and that nsJ ef atiacb ' meat te«> bine acton* lb* >ear» at)) ; I koM ue until It brlage ue tumthrr tn the *•!>«*, a* imob and Joseph tern j brought together. That la one thing that makes old people die happy. They realize It is reunion with those from whom they have long been separated. I am often asked a* pastor and every pastor Is asked tin question - "Will niy children la- children In heaven and forever children?” Well, there was no doubt a great change In Joseph from the tim< Jacob lost him arid the time when Jacob found him between the hoy of seventeen years of a;,e and the man Iti mid-life, his fore head developed with th<- great busi ness of state; hut Jacob was glad to get hack Joseph anyhow, und It did not make much difference (o the old mtyt whether the hoy looked older or looked younger. And It will he enough Joy for thut parent If In- can get hack that hod, that daughter, at the gate of heaven, whether th< departed loved one shall come a cherub or In full-grown angelhood. There must he a change wrought by that celestial climate and by those supernal years, hut It will only ho from loveliness to more loveliness, and from health to more rudlunt health. O, parent, ns you think of the darllng panting and white In membran ous croup, 1 waul, you to know it will he gloriously bettered In that land whete there has never been a death mid where all the Inhabitants will live on In the great future as long as (loti! Joseph was Joseph not .withstanding the palace, and your child will he your child notwithstanding all the raining splendors of everlasting noon. What a thrilling visit was that of the old shep herd to the prime minister Joseph! I see the old countryman scaled In the palace looking around at the mirrors und the fountains und lint carved pil lars, und oh! how lie wishes that HuiUel, Ills wife, was alive and she could have come with him to see their son In hla great house "Ob," says the old man within himself, "I do wish Hachel could he here to see all this!" 1 visited ut the Turin house of the fulher of Mllliird Fillmore when the son was president oT the I,tilted States, mid the octogenarian farnu > entertained me until 11 o'clock at night telling me whut great things he saw In his son's house at Washington, and what Daniel Webster said to him, mid how grand ly Millard treated tils fattier In Ihe White House. The old man's face was Illumined with the story until almost midnight. He hud Jus. been visiting his soli ut. the eupllol. And 1 suppose It was something of the same joy that thrilled the heart of the old shepherd as be stood In the palace of the prime minister. It Is a great day with you when your old parents come lo visit you. Your little children stand around With great wide-open eyes, wondering how anybody could lie so old The put end. cannot stay many days, for they are a little restless, and especially til iilghtfull, because they sleep better In tbeir own bed; hui while they tarry you somehow feel there Is a benedic tion In ev»*ry room in Ihe house. They are a little feeble^and you make It as easy uu you can fui them, and you realize they will probably not vImII you very often perhaps never again. You go to their room after they have retir ed at night to see If the lights are properly put out, for the old people un derstand candle and lump better than the modern apparatus of Illumination. In the morning, with real Interest In their health, you ask how they rested last night. Joseph, In tne historical scene of the text, did not think any more of his father than yon do of your parents. The probability Is, before they leave your house they half spoil your children with kindnesses. Grandfather and grandmother are more lenient and Indulgent to your children than they ever were with you. And what won ders of revelation In the bombazine [socket of Ihe one and the sleeve of the other! Blessed Is that home where Christian parents come to visit! What ever may have been the style of the architecture when they came, It Is a palace uerore iney iciive. ir tney visa you fifty times, the two most memor able visits will lie the first ami the last. Those two pictures will hang In tin hall of your memory while memory lasts, and you will remember Just bow they looked, and where they sal, and what they said, und at what figure of the carpel, and at what door sill they parted with yon, giving you the final good-by. Do not be embarrassed If your father come to town anil be have the manners of the shepherd, and If your mother cotne to town and there be In her hat no sign of costly millinery. The wife of the Emperor Theodosius said a wise thing when she said: Husbands, remember what you lately were, und remember wbut you are. and lie thank ful." liy this time you all notice what kindly provision Joseph made for his father Jacob. Joseph did not say. "I can't have the old man around (his place. How clumsy he would look i limbing up these marble stairs, and walking over these mosaics! Than, he would he putting Ills hands upon some of these frescoes People would wonder where that old greenhorn came from He would shuck all the Egyp tian court with bU manners at table. IP-sides that, he might gel eh k on uiy hands, and he might he uueruloim.-iud he might talk lo ms as though t were only g hoy, when I am the second man In all the realm Of eourse, he must nut suffer, and it there b> famine In hls country-and I hear there ta I will send him some provisions, but I i sn't tabs a mis from Padaaaram md Introduce hint Into tbta polite Egyp tian court What a nuisance It tg to have poor reUiiuanl" Joseph did sot gg> that nut he rushed out to meet kh father with per lest atmndcin of aleclton and brought him up lo the palace and introduced him to the emperor, end provided lor all the rest of hls lath* re days, and nothing was two guud tor the old man whim living and when he waa dead Joseph with military eecott look kl< i— father'* remain* to the family ceme tery. Would (Sod all children were a* kind to l.helr parent*. If the father have large propertyaoid he be wlae enough to keep it In hi* own name, lie will be rrnperted hy the heir*; but how often It in when the | *on find* hi* lather In famine, a* Jo* eph found Jacob In famine, the young people make It very hard for the old man. They are *o *nrprlned he out* with a knife ln*tead of a fork. They tire chagrined at hi* antediluvian ha bit*. They are provoked became he cannot hear a* well a* he uaed to, and i when he a*k* It over again, and the I *on ha* to repeat. It, he hawl* In the | old man'* ear, "I ho|*> yon hear that1" Mow long he mu*t wear the old coat or the old hat before they get him a new one! Mow chagrined they are at. hi* i Independence of tho Krigllnlt grammar! ! Mow long lie hang* on! Seventy year* and not gone yet! Seventy-five year* and not gone yet! Highly year* and not gone ye I’ Will lie ever go? They think it of no line to have a doctor In hi* limt Hlekne**, and go up to the drug atore and get *omethlug that make* hiro worae, and economise on a coffin, and heat the undertaker down to the hint, point, giving a noli for the r-t (lured amount which they never pay! I have offti lated at nhactpilm -if aged people where the family have been no Inordinately realgned lo Providence that 1 felt llki taking toy lut from Proverb*, "The eye that mot belli ui Id* father, and refuaeth to obey Itn moth er, tho raven* of the valley *hnll pick It toil, and the young eaglca kIiiiII out It.” In other word*, such an Ingiaie ought lo have u Dock of crow* for pull hearer*. I eongratulati you If you have the honor of providing for aged part-iil*. The hlo*tlng of the lord tlod of Jo*eph and Jut oh will he on you. I rejoice to rt-liiemlier that though on father lived In a plain homo- the mo*t of hi* day*, he died In a man Hltui provided hy the filial piety of a ’■W” "IM» »»*»»• (I* MIHTril II MM MlIPWi the octogenarian *at, mill (hr ncrvunln waited on him, and there were plenty of horse* arid plenty of carriage* to convey him. uml a bower In which to all on long summer afternoon*, dream lug over Ihe pa at; and there wa* nol u room In the home where he wa* noi welcome, and there were mimical In ■trumema of all aorta hi regale him. and when life hod panned, the nclgli born came out and expressed all honor poantlile, and carried him to Ihe vll luge Mach petal), and poi him down be* aide the itacliel with whom he hud lived more than half a century, Hburo your aucceaaea with the old people. The probability la, that. Ihe principle* they Inculcated achieved your fortune, (live them u Christian percentage of kindly ronnlderatton. lei Joaeph di vide whh .lacoh the piialnre tleldn of Uoahett and Ihi glorle* of the Kgyp llan court And here I would like Ml alng Ilia pralaea of the nlalerhood who rwnaltmrt unmarried that, they might admtnlalcr to aged parent*. The brutal world cull* theae aelf-aaerlHelng one* pecu liar or angular; hut. If you have hud u* many annoyance* m they have had, Xunllppe would have been an uo£e| cotnpurml whh you, 'l I* caller to luke care of live rollicking, romping chlllircp than of one chlhllah old trnin. Among the heat women of our hind are those who allowed Ihe bloom of life to pass away while they were cur Ing for their parent*. While other maiden* were anlcep, they were awak ing the old man'* feel, or tucking u|i the cover* around the invalid mother. While other maiden* were In the cotil lon. they were dancing attendance up on rheumatism and aprcadlng plaster* tor the lame hack of the neptenarlan, and heating catnip tea for Inaomuia In almoat every circle of our kindred thcru ha* been some queen of *clf-aac tiflce to whom Jeweled hand after Jew eled bund waa offered In marriage, hut, who atayed on the old place becauue of me aeuae m until ouiiguuun, until Vue heulib wiim gone and the at tract lvwn-«x of pnraouat presence bail vanlahcd. Brutal Mudety may call auch a one by a nickname. (Jod calla her daughter, and heaven calla her nalnt. and I call her domestic martyr. A half-dozen ordinary women have not aa much no bility ua could he found in the small cat Joint of the little Anger of her left hand. Although the world haa atom) hIx thouaaud yeara, thin la the tlrat apotheoala of maidenhood, although in the long line of thoae who have de clined marrluge that (hey might be qualified for Home eapeclal inlmdun are the namea of Anna Hohm. and Mar 1 guret Breckinridge, and Mary Shelton, and Anna ICtheridge, and ileorgaua Willem, the uugcla of the hatlleltelda of k'ulr Uuka and Ixynkout Mountain and ChaucelloravIBe, and Cooper Shop lloapltal; und though finale life haa ’ b#*ll honored by the fact that the threw grnndeat meii of the Bible John and t’nti) ami chrlat were celibate* l.ei lhe ungrateful world ami r »i th» liiuldeu aunt, hut lied lot* a ihiuoe ImruUhed for her arrival, and un one •lil« of dial throne In beaten liter, i* g t»•«• containing two Jewel*, tb« on* ■ brighter than the Kohlnoor of lain don Tower, and the oilier larger Him any diamond ever found tu the dl* trlcm of Uolcondii the one Jewel by, the lapidary of l.o palate cut with th* word* "ln**«iiuh aa y* did tt ft* fa<b*r;‘* th* other Jewel by the lap idary uf the palm* * aa with the wrrd* "Inasmuch aa y* did If to mother.'* flyer the IBB* It) the i'ouihoqoe" |* the mqutait* Imlltd of Will CaiMon who found an old woman * lot b*.| -r-tn turned oS by her (nwp wtit *uh» but I thanh Uod I way And tu Ut| teal. "Our lb* bill* to the |m»Ii *" 4 to* «•* M*M I dunt •uppowi the ptil «ho ntnlad J*.h Kayptdd* will *vw* bar* •nuther Idle a***n««t *» toe* aa #4* j live*. Hell* Why hart k*d ubu *4fy »b« atari led hue to refwrui him.