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.
