"i .'Mtot-r "" rr-i-i rirT
3aJWi,jj jj'wk Ji'1'yj'f ' ' ' "ju u 'umymUij-toata-'i
11
I s
PI
Our Young Headers.
THE B0F5 Z) TJZE GIRLS.
rbepo is such a crowd of you, boys and girls,
You are thronging in evory place;
If we did not conquer you now and then
You would fill up all the space.
rou tako the world as if it were your own.
You merrily laugh and sing,
sJf there we not a fading: time.
And life eouu bo always spring:.
ffo send you out of the way sometimes, -"in
the midst of your mirth and noise, r
For old beads ache, and old hearts fail, ,
And can not share your joys.
3ut the world balongs to you. after all.
And others aside must stand,
"hat you may be able to do and dare,
And be masters in the land.
fou arc so busy at school and play
That you have no thought to spare
?orthe uroblems that puzzle the grown-up
folks.
And make them gray with care.
. But you are the people, my happy ones;
c And all that we do to-day
iVill bo more to you thau it is to us,
For yon will the longest stay.
We are quick to give to you praise and blame;
What will you give us, when
rou weigh, as judges, our words and deeds
lu the time when you are the men?
PVhat will you think of the laws we make
- When you read the records through?
in J the manners and customs of church and
home.
And the citieft we build for you?
Bnvs, be generons: girls, bo fair!
We are trying to do our best.
iVe arj beginning snmc irood brave work
Tis for you to do the rest.
riiroirjli misty moorland and foz-QUcd street,
We are seeking for irrcnter light:
But for you there is breaking above the world
A Iay that is passing bright.
Toilers are wo, who aro well content
To work for the Nation's need,
5Vc have been delving the gold to find.
We have been sowing seed.
" Good times to live in we leave to you.
And rights that were hard to win;
' Be worthy of the better times.
And gather our harvests in.
Marianne Farntn'jham.in London Christian
HbrM.
m
A WONDERFUL RIVER.
With his fingers locked tightly in his
;risp. curly hair, Jackman Rolf Jack,
for short-Asat resting his elbow on the
utblc, which supported a canvas-covcreel
" sopy of Horseberg's Sailing Directions:,
.an one of the open pages of which his
2es were steadfastly fixed.
Opposite him, in a similar attitude,
was his brother. Sj'lvester, now in his
fourteenth year, was two years younger
than Jack. Before Sylvester lay a well
worn Physical Geography, open at the
map of South America. He was sup-
fiosed to be studying his day's lesson.
u reality his mind was "far, far at I
sea. lor Jack: Uoit, wno, as every
one declared, was " a born sailor," had
just returned from his first voyage with
ins father. Captain Merrill Rolf. . He
was full of enthusiasm for his new life,
and could talk of little else but the sea
and everything connected with it, to all
of which Sylvester listened eagerly.
particularly as Jack, being a keen ob
server, and possessing a good memorv,
was a most delightful talker.
"I say, Jack."
No answer. In fancy Jack was again
clinging to tho Paul Kevere's weather
mizzen-rigging, as she scudded at light
ping speeu before a terrible cyclone
Jvliich they had encountered on the re
turn passage. And Jack, aided by the
map before him, was mentally .compar
ing the route over which they had sailed,
lo escape running into the dreaded
Storm center, with the route there laid
down
"Jack!" this time rather louder.
"Ay, ay, sir!" was the dreamy an
Bwcr. And then, with a sudden start.
Jack came back to his home surround
ingsto the old-fashioned furniture,
"mil his dead mother's picture over the
mantel, and Sylvester opposite him
yawning over his lesson.
"Well, what is it, Sillybub?" Jack
asked, good-naturedly.
' "I should like to sail up the Amazon,
the biggest river in the world," replied
6yl. glancing at the map. He didn't
teally care in the least about the Ama
zon, but he wanted to make Jack talk.
"Three weeks ago I crossed a bigger
find wider river than the Amazon ever
Jiretended- to be," said Jack, briskly,
as, shutting the cover of Lis book witli
a bang, he leaned back in his chair and
softly whistled an old sea-song.
' "Why, .lack Rolf!" exclaimed Syl
vester. "Three weeks ago you were at
sea."
"Yes," replied Jack, calmly, as he
fixed his gaze on the fly-studded ceil
ing, "and it is altogether different from
any river that I ever saw or heard of."
"How?" questioned Sylvester, curi
ous to get at Jack's meaniug.
"Uh, ever-way. was the somewhat
indefinite answer. In the first place,"
'Jack continued, slowly, "it llows in a
sort of immense circle"
"A river flowing in a circle!" scorn
fully interrupted Sylvester.
" And there is bne part of it," pur
sued his brother, "that for quite a long
distance some hundreds of miles, I
think flows up-hill."
i "Oh. no doubt," was the ironical re
sponse. "Anything else?" Sylvester
pad managed by a great effort to gulp
flown if I may so express it the cir
cular" flow of this wpnderful river, but
the up-hill movement was rather too
tnuch of a strain.
"Anything else?" repeated Jack
'"oh yes, lots. No matter' how cold it
'is," he went on, gravely, "this river I
Bpeak oi ne vers freezes, lor two reasons;
bne is, that the water is almost warm;
and the other, because it won't stop
running long enough for Jack Frost to
pet his grip on it, lor there is always a
three or four knot current or tide."
: "I don't see how it can run when it's
all tied," interrupted Sylvester, with
inward delight at being able to remem
ber and bring into active service an old
newspaper joke. (
Jack cast a pitying glance at his
brother, but made no reply to such an
ill-timed attempt at wit.
f "The river of which I speak has no
bne definite source or outlet, though it
branches out in two or three directions.
Another curious fact is, that while its
surface is exactly level with the top of
its banks, it has never been known to
overflow them during the heaviest rain
foils, or to lower the fraction of an inch
Suring the driest seasons."
"Are its banks mud, or gravel, or
rock, or what?" inquired Sylvester, who
was thoroughly mystified.
"Neither?' his brother replied, grave
ly. "Janks and bottom alike are of
bold salt-water."
Gulf StrcaraP axclajmed Sylvejterr
upon whose mind the truth had'sud
denly dawned. "What a goose 1 was
not to have known what you were driv
ing at long ago!"
Opening the thick canvas-covered
book, in which he had been reading,
Jack called his brother to his side and
directed his attention to a diagram of
the Eastern and Western continents.
"Away down there, near the South
American coast," said Jack, pointing to
the spot with his finger, " the big Am
azon is all the time pouring an im
mense volume of water into the seifc,
which lies sweltering under a tropic
sun."
" Don't understand how the sea can
swelter,'"' broke in his irrepressible
brother.
"That, my boy, is simply a figure of
speech," was the unmoved answer.
But to continue. This sun-warmed cur
rent, following the shore-line at a dis
tance, passes through aud carries with
it the heated waters from what some
scientific person has called the two
great caldrons the Caribbean Sea and
the Gulf of Mexico. It then enters the
Florida Straits, where some say that
the Gulf Stream proper fairly com
mences, because here are its first two
definite boundaries Cape Sable on the
one hand, and the Island of Cuba with
the Bahamas on the other."
"But whereabouts docs it begin to
run up-hill?"
"Not far from Cape Sable," Jack re
plied, "though perhaps the expression
that I used was rather too strong.
What 1 meant was that "the Coast Sur
vey soundinjrs
have shown
a gradual
rise from this poiut, where the stream
- s'
is about thirty miles wide, clear up to
Cape Halt eras, where it is more than
twice that width."
" Aud why does the Gnlf Stream al
wavs run to the north and east?"
"Well." replied Jack, slowly, "there
arc different theories on that point.
The dailv motion of the earth from east
to west has something to do with it.
Then, again, it is claimed that the
waters of the Gulf Stream and its tribu- I
taries are Salter than the sea which
hems it in. consequently evaporation
takes place faster, so that the water is
always hurrying in to take the place of i
that which the thirsty trade-winds are
lapping tip. And perhaps the trade
winds, blowing stcadilv from the north-
east, heh) to force this movinir bodv of
water in the direction of the Caribbeau
Sea."
And then, by the aid of diagrams.
Jack showed his brother how this
wonderful river in the sea, after follow-
ing our own coast-line
for
hundreds of
miles, splits in sunder above
the forti-
Qth parallel of latitude.
"This branch runs up to the north
ward and eastward," said Jack, point
ing out the tiny arrow-heads marking
its course, "while the other, tending due
east, at last overflows its banks of salt
sea, and is spread out over thousands ol
. . i
, j &ramll sweet 0i
nno - - Ir ailsvtwiplki l f - win c?I"il?
which mid-ocean might be called the
middle, it helps form the great equato
rial current which in turn is swept to
ward the Caribbean Sea."
"But, Jack," said his brother, with a
puzzled look, "why don't the Gull
Stream water mix with the ocean?"
"Well," Jack slowly replied, "that
is pretty hard for me to explain, be
cause I don't fully understand it my- i
... L , t
self. But as nnarlv as I do understand .
it," he continued, "it's something on
the same principle as the fact that hot
and cold water don't unite in a dish til)
they're, so to speak, stirred up togethei
pretty thoroughly. And then they say
that bodies of water of different densi
ties won't mix readily, which isanothei
reason, for the Gulf Stream is consider
ably Salter than the ocean which hems
it in. But just see. Syl," Jack went
on, warming with his subject "just
see how beautifully the Creator makes
everything pulLtogether. so to bpeak.
Now the earth is a conductor of heat,
you know."
Sylvester didn't know, but nodded h:j
assent, and Jack went on:
"Well, if the Gulf Stream flowed di
rectry over the bottom of the sea, it
would soon loose its temperature. Bui
the Almighty has so arranged it that
away up in the Northern regions a polai
current is set in motion, and comes
sweeping down to meet the Gulf Stream
somewhere near the Grand Banks.
When it strikes the warm current il
sinks to the bottom, and so puts itself
between the stream and the bottom oi
the ocean, so that the water is kept at
exactly the proper temperature.''
"But what's the use of the Gull
Stream, anyway?" persisted Sylvester.
use oi ltr echoed dacK; " I guess
this would be a prettv uncomfortable
country to live in if there was no Gull
Stream. Only for this current to carry
away the heated water from the Gulf ol
Mexico and Caribbean Sea, the whole
region down there would be a parched,
sun-baked, dried-up desert, where no
one could live nor anything grow. And
the same excess of heat that it brings
away from the torrid zone is spread out
where it is most needed further north.
It tempers our own climate to a slight
extent, but its greatest power is felt
across the ocean. But for the warmth
it -scatters broadcast in its eastern
sweep, the British Islands, which are in
tho same latitude as Labrador, would
freeze up solid, and France might have
sleighing all the year round, for aught
I know. Then, again, vessels bound
from Southern to Northern ports get the
advantage of its two and three knot cur
rent, and in winter, when they are 'iced
up' on our own coast, a few hours' sail
ing brings them into warm water, which
melts off tne ice and thaws out the sail
ors. Oh, I can tell you. Syl," said
Jack, drawing his lecture to a close, as
ne caught his brother niding a yawn
"the Gulf Stream is agreat institution." i
a,j - ciof. k:i,; ii
And as Sylvester came to think it all
over afterward, he was of the same
opinion. Frank E. Converse, in Har
per's Young People.
It is a very rare occurrence that the
number of years of a person's life will
exeed the number of pounds he weighs,
but such a case is in existence
in Lawrence Connty, South Caro
lina. Mrs. Sallio Culbertson, who livea
in the northern part of that county, is
eighty-five years old, and weighs only
seventy pounds. Chicago Times.
A new religions sect, recently
formed in England, worships Mothei
Evojtg a goddaffi
Playlntr Santa Clans.
What on earth do you think has hap
pened? The other day I was at Tom
tdeGinnis' house, and he had some
i company. He was a big boy. and
something like a cousin of Tom's.
Would you believe it, that fellow said
there wasn't any Santa Claus? I was
ashamed for him, and I told him at
once that he could never have any little
hatchet.
Now that boy distinctly did tell but
I won't mention it. We should never
reveal the wickedness of other people,
and ought always to be thankful that
we are worse than any body else.
Otherwise we should be like the Phar
isee, and he was very bad. I knew for
certain that it was a fib Tom McGinni3'
cousiu told. But, all the same, the
tuore I thought about it the more 1 got
worried.
If there is a Santa Claus and, of
course, there is how could he get up
on the top of the house, so he could
come down the chimney, unless he car
ried a big ladder with jiim; and if he
did this, now could he carry presents
enough to lillmornahundred stockings?
And then how could he help getting
the things all over soot from the chim
ney, and how does he manage when the
chimney is all full of smoke and tire,
as it always is at Christmas? But
then, as the preachor says, he may be
supernatural I had to look that word
up in the dictionary.
Tho story Tom McGinnis' cousin told
kept on worrying me, and finally I be
gan to think how perfectly awful it
would be if there was any truth in it.
How the children would feell There's
going to be no end of children at our
house this Christmas, and Aunt Eliza
and her two small boys are here already.
I heard mother and Aunt Eliza talking
about Christmas the other day. aud
they agreed that all the children should
Bleeo ton cot bedsteads in the back
parlor, so that they could open their
stockings together, and mother said:
" You know, Eliza, there's a big fire
place in that room, and the children
can hang tlieir stockings around the
chimney." Now 1 know I did wrong, but it was
only because I did not want the chil
dren to be disappointed. We should al
ways do to others and so on, and I
know I should have been grateful if
anybody had tried to get up a Santa
j Claus for mc in case of the real one be-
! wgout of repair. Neither do I blame
. mother, though u sne naun t spoken
'about tiio nre-piaco in the way sue diei.
it, wouui never nave nappeneu. nut i
.do think that they ought to have made a
j little allowance for me. since I was only
i.tirirt- tf l,nlii ftinl'n tlin Ptipictmnclmci.
ness successful.
"J"o " ""!' . w.wj..... wu.j.
It all happened yesterday. Tom Mc-1
Ginnis had come to see mc, and all the
folks had gone out to ride except Aunt
i PI
Eliza's little boy Harry. We were
talking about Christmas, and I was tell
ing Tom how all the children were to
sleep in the back parlor, and how there
was a chimney there that was just the
J thing for Santa Claus. We went and
looked at the chimney, and then I
' said to Tom what fun it would be to
dress up and come down the chimney
I and pretend to be Santa Claus. and how
it would amuse the children, and how
pleased the grown-up folks would be.
.. - - ..
"r tney are always wanting us to amuse
them.
I Tom agreed with me that it would be
splendid fun, and said we ought to
practice coming down the chimney, so
that we could "do it easily on Christmas
eve. He said he thought I ought to do
( it, because it was our house; but I
' said no, he was a visitor, and it would
be mean and selfish in me to deprive
' him of any pleasure. But Tom wouldn't
do it. He said that he wasn't feeling
very well, and that he didn't like to
' take liberties with our chimney, and,
l-besides, he was afraid that he was so
big that he wouldn t lit the cuimney.
Then we thought of Harry, and agreed
that he was just the right size. Of
course Hany said he'd do it when we
asked him, for he isn't afraid of any
thing, and is so proud to be allowed to
play with Tom and mc that he would do
anything we asked him to do.
Well, Harry took off his coat and
Bhoes, and we all went up to the roof,
and Tom and I boosted Harry till he got
on the top of the chimney and put his
legs in it and slid down. He went
down like a flash, for he didn't know
enough to brace himself the way the
chimney-sweeps do. Tom and 1 hur
ried down to the back parlor to meet
him: but he had not arrived yet, though
the fire-place was full of ashes and
soot.
We supposed he had stopped on the
way to rest; but after awhile we
thought we heard a noise, like somebody
calling, that was a great wav oil'. We
went up on the roof, thinking Harry
might have climbed baek up the chim
nej', but he wasn't there. When we
got on the top of the chimney we could
near him plain enough. He was crying
and yelling for help, for he was stuck
about half-way down the chimney and
couldn't get either up or down.
We talked it over for some time, and
decided that the best thing to do was to
get a rope and let it down to him and
pull him out. So I got the clothes-line ,
and let it down, but llarrv's arms were I
jammed close to his sides, so he couldn't . letters which passed between the ven
getholdof it. Tom said we ought to i icrable poet and the Government have
make a slinnernoosc. catch it. over ,' never been printed. But they exist in
Harry's head, and pull him out that
way, but 1 knew that Harry wasn't very
strong, and I was afraid it we did that
----- 1-r r ' i
he might come apart.
Then I proposed that we should get a
long pole and push Harry down the
rest of the chimney, but after hunting
all over the yard we couldn't, find a
pole that was long enough, so we had
J" " ?" '"" rTin T 7S
umo Harry was crving- in the most
j;aawfi ii,?.,, ,.
to rive that plan up. All this
doing all we could for him. That's the
way with little boys. They never havo
any gratitude, and are always discon
tented. As we couldn't poke Harry down,
Tom said let's try to poke him up. So
wc told Harry to be patient and consid
erate, and we went down stairs again,
and took the longest pole we could find
and pushed it up the chimney. Bushels
of soot came down, and flew over
everything, but we couldn't reach Har
ry with the pole. By this time we be
gan to -feel discouraged. We were
awfully sorry for Harry, because, if we
couldn't get him out before the folks
came home, Tomand 1 would be in a
dMadful scrape.
'' ,t ii nm
Then I thought that if we were to
build a little fire the draught might
draw Harry out Tom thought it was
an excellent plan. So I started a fire,
but it didn't loosen Harry a bit, and
when we went on the roof to meet him
we heard him crying louder ttian ever,
and saying that something was on fire
in the chimney, and waschoking him.
I knew what to do. though Tom didn't,
aud, to tell the truth, he was terriblj
frightened.
We ran down and got two pails ol
water and poured them down the chim
ney. That put the fire out, but would
you hardly believe it that Harry was
more unreasonable than ever, and said
we were trying to drown him. There
is no comfort in wearing yourself out in
trying to please little boys. You can'l
satisfy them, no matter how much
trouble you take, and for my part I arc
tired of trying to please Harry, and
shall let liim aniu-c himself the rest ol
the time he is at our house.
We tried every plan we could think
of to get Harry out of tho chimney,
but none of them succeeded. Tom said
that if we were to pour a whole lot o:
oil down the chimney it would make it
so slippery that Harry would slide right
down into the back parlor, but 1
wouldn't do it, because 1 knew the oil
would spoil Harry's clothes, and that
would make Aunt Eliza angry. All ol
a sudden I heard a carriage stop at out
gate, and there were the grown folks,
who had come earlier than I had sun-
posed they would. Tom said that lie
would go home before his own folks be
gan to get uneasy about him, so Jit
went out of tho back gate, antl left mc
to explain things. They had to send
for some men to come and cut a holt
through the wall. But they got Harry
out all safe; and after they found that
be wasn't a bit hurt, instead of thank
ing me for all Tom and I had done foi
him, they seemed to think that I de
served the worst punishment I ever had.
and I got it.
And E shall never make another at
tempt to amuse children on Christmas
eve. "Jimmy Brown" in Harper'i
Young People.
Women's Wages in Xew York.
The holidays have given
great
ac-
livity to the retail trade, and there has
been an increase in tho demand foi
clerks. Many young women from the
coin try have come liither, seeking this
kind of employment. Til's is to be re
gretted, as there arc always more ol
this class here than the demand re
quires. To be more explicit, I would
say that young women arc generally
paid oue-third less than men for the
same service. A good saleswoman can
earn So a week, and in some install' ef
S10. There are a few who, being very
expert, receive 12, but such instances
are rare. A first-class cashier in a large
establishment is sometimes paid 1.5,
but this requires great ability and ex
perience, and perhaps security. There
are many women book-keepers, who.
after long practice, earn from 8 tc SIC
a week, but such situations are nol
easily obtained. A few of this clas:
earn 12, and there is one case men
tioned where a woman of extraordinary
ability has 20 a week, but if a mac
performed those very duties he would
have one-third more An inquiry made
at the Christian Association brought
the reply that 16 per week is the high- i
est pay any woman can hope for, either ,
as tea-.-her or book-keeper. Tho bcsl !
ay is earned by a few experienced J
lousekeepers, who are in the service ol
rich families, and receive 1,000 a year,
with board. Some artificial l'ower
makers earn 18 per week at this sea
son of the year, but this is rare, and
there are hundreds of well-trained
women who would be glad to earn from
8 to 10 a week, while there are thou
sands whose earnings are from u tob
The holiday activity, of course, help
this class, but there are so many readj
for any opening that there is no encour
agement for country folks. N. Y. Cor.
L'lica Herald.
Tennyson's Appointment as Laureate.
Baron Tennyson has now been poet
laureate for twenty-three years. lit
succeeded w ordswortii, who died id
1850. The circumstances of his ap
pointment. were really droll, as showing
how much statesmen know of poetry.
When Wordsworth died the appoint
ment was offered, in a most courteous
autograph letter by Prince Albert, tc
the venerable Samuel Rogers, thee
nearly ninety years ol 1. Rogers was
told that the Queen held him in high
regard, and that the acceptance of the
honor implied no necessity of an
forma! duty. He was, of course, high
ly gratified, but he declined. He was
then consulted by the Government ol
the dav as to the proper person to be
named laureate, and he at once sug
gested Tennyson's name. It is a curi
ous and even amusing fact that a letter
was sent him in reply from the Minis
try, to ask what Air. Tennyson had
written, and if it would be perfectly
safe, on moral grounds, to name him.
The phrase in the letter is, "We do no!
know this gcntlemau," or words to this
import. So ileeply concerned were
Lord John Kussell and his friends in
the politics of the day that they had no
chance to read "Locksley Hall." The
one of the most choice autograph col
lections in England. Boston Adver.
tiser.
Too Late.
It appeared to be a 'private confab, as
the two men sat with their backs to the
iron fence of the Trinity Church.
"If you was Jay Gould," S3id one,
" and! was a Judge on the bench, how
much would vou give to own me?"
"Well, Idunno, "How much wotdd
you take?1'
"Make me an offer."
"Well, I'd chip in with Jim Kecne
and Russell Sage and Uncle Rufus, and
I reckon we'd offer you 20,000.
"Hoot! toot! man, but you d get leu:
While you were getting' up the pool
President Villard would step in with an
offer of 25,000."
Verdict for plaintiff. Wall Street
News.
-c .i v,ri- ..f t ,,m.c nineteen with a babv in her arms. All
-MothscanbeJveptoutofprmentc state'which is best de-
by wrapping them in solid colored cal- edas mauannthey have fin-xco.-l)etrod
Free Press. - .ghed Jot of 3nd yoange8t
Cows arc still used to drag the plow i woman is ordering another round. It
in Central Germany. - I is a great-grandmother, grandmother,
Temperance Sending.
THE
DRINKING - HOUSE
THE WAY.
OYER
AX INCIDENT OP THE CHUSADK.
rhe room-was so cold, so cheerless and bare.
rt'Ith its rickety table, and one broken cliair.
And its curtaiulcss window with hardly a
pano
To keep out tho snow, the wind ami the rain.
cradle stood empty, pushed up to tne wall.
And somehow that seemed the saddest of all.
In the old rusty stove the tire was dead;
There was snow on tho Uoor at the foot of the
bed.
And there all alono a pale "woman was lying:
Vou need not look twice, to seo she was
dying;
Hying of want of hunger and cold.
Shall I tell you her storv the story she told?
No ma'am, I'm no better, my cough is so
bad:
It's wearinir mc out, though, and that makes
me glad.
For it's wearisome living when one's all
alone.
And Heaven they tell me is just like a home
" Yes, ma'am, 1'vo a husband, he's some
where about:
t hopeil he'd come in 'fore the Are went out:
Hut 1 guess he has gone where he's Ukcly to
May.
I mean to the drinking-house over the way.
,'It was not so always: I hope you won't
think
Too hard of Mm. lady, it's only the drink.
1 know he's kind-hearted, for oh, how he
er.e I
For our poor little baby the morning It died!
" You see he took sudden, and grew very
bad.
And we hnd no doctor my poor little lad!
For his father had gone never meaning to
stay.
I am sure to the driuking-house over the
way.
"And when he came back 'twas far in the
night.
And i was- so tired, and sick with the fright
Ir staymjrso long with my baoy alone.
And it cutting my heart with its pitiful moan.
" He was cross with tho drink, poor fellow, I
know
It was that, not his baby, that bothered him
so:
But he swore at the child, ns panthig it lay.
And went back to the drinking-house over
the way.
I hcanl the gate slam ami my heart seemed
to freeze
Like ice in mj hosom, and there on mv knee1
By the siile of the cradle, all shivering, 1
stayed;
I wanted my mothtr, I cried and I prayed.
The clock it struck two 'fore my baby was
And my thoughts they went back to the home
on the hill.
Where my happy girlhood had spent its short
day.
Far, far from that drinking-house over the
way.
' Cou!d I be that girl? I, the heart-broken
wiTe.
There uatchimr alone, while that dear little
life
Wa going so fast, that I had to bend low
To hear if he breathed, 'twas so faint and
so slow.
" Yes it was eny his
moro w hite.
dying,
he jut grew
And his cjes unmed wider
to look for the
lirht
As his father can:o in, 'twas
just break of
J iy.
I Came in from the drinking-house over the
way.
" Yes. ma'am, he was sober, at least mostly, I
think.
He otten stayed that way to wear otr the
drink.
And I know he wa sorry for what he had
done.
For he set a great store by our first little sou.
"And straight did" he come to the cradle-bed
where
Our baby lav dead, so pretty and fair:
I wondered that 1 could have wished him to
. stay
i When mere was a drinking-house over the
way.
" He stood quiet awnile. did not understand.
l ou t-ec. ma am, till he touched the little cold
hand:
Oh, then came the tears, and he shook like a
leaf.
And said: "Twas the drinking had made all
the grief.' ,
" The neighbors were kind, and the minister
cause.
Andhctalkc.l of my seeing my baby asniln;
Ami of the bright angels I wondered if thv
Could see into that drinking-house over the
way.
"And I thought when my baby was put in the
ground.
And the man with tho spade was shaping the
mound.
If some! ody only would help mc to save
My husband, who stood by my side at the
grave.
' If only it were not so handy, the drink!
The men that make laws, ma'am, sure didn't
think
Of the hearts thj- would break, of the souls
they wculd s!ay.
When they licensed that drinking-house over
the way.
" I've been sick ever since, it can not belong;
Be pitiful, lady, to him when Tin pone:
He wants to do right, but you never would
think
How weak a man grows when he's fond of
the drink.
" And it's tempting him here, and it's tempt
ing him there:
Four piaces I've counted in this very square
Where a man can get whisky by night and by
day.
Not to reckon the drinklng-houso over the
way.
" There's a verse in the Bible tho minister
read:
'So drunkard shall enter Heaven.' it said:
And he is my husband, and I loved him so.
And where I am going, I want he should go.
" Our baby and I will both want fcim there;
Don't you think the dear Jesus will hear to
my prayer?
And please, when I'm gone, ask some one to
pray
For him, at tho drlnklmr-house over the wav."
Jfrs. Suttiivj. in Unton Sianal.
London Gin Palaces.
More than one-fourth of the earnings
of the denizens of the slums goes over
the bars of the public houses and gin
palaces. To study the dark phase of
this burning question lot us take the
districts irom wnicn i nave drawn toe
facts and figures I have .submitted to
your readers in previous articles.
On a Saturday night in the great
thoroughfare adjacent "there are three
corner public nouses which take as
much money as the whole of the other
shops on both sides of the way put to
gether. Butchers, hakcr.s, green-gro
cers, clothiers, furniture dealers, all tne
caterers for the wants of the populace,
are open till a Jate hour; there are hun
dreds of them trading round and about.
but the whole lot do not take as much
1 money as three publicans that is a fact
ghastly enough in all conscience. Enter
j the public houses and you will see them
' crammed. Here are "artisans and la
borers drinking away the wages that
onght to clothe their little ones.
Here are -the women squandering
the money that would pnrchase
food for the lack of which their
children are dying. One group rivets
the eye of an observer at once. It con
sists of an old gray-lnired dame, a
, woman of fortr, and a girl of about
and a mother and her baby four gen
erations together and they are all
di&yr'and disheveled, aud drunk, ex
cept the baby, and even the poor little
mite may have its first taste of alcohol
presently. It is no uncommon sight in
these places to see a mother wet a
baby's lips with gin and water. The
process is called "giving the young'un
a taste," and the baby's father will
look on sometimes and enjoy the joke
immensely.
But the time to sec the result of a
Saturday night's heavy drinking in a
low neighborhood is after the houses
are closed. Then you meet dozens ol
poor wretches reeling home to their
miserable dens, tome of them rolling
across the roadway and falling, cutt'ng
themselves till the blood Jlows. Every
penny iu some instances has gone in
drink.
One dilapidated ragged wretch I met
hist Saturday night" was gnawing a
baked potato. By his sitle stood a
thinly-clad woman bearing a baby in
her arms, and in hideous language ht
reproached him for his selfishness. She
had fetched him out of a public-house,
with his last halfpenny in his pocket.
With that halfpenny he had bought tin
potato, which he refused to share with
her. At ever- comer the police art
ordering or coaxing men and women tc
"move on.' Between twelve and out.
it is a long procession of drunkeu men
and women, and the most drunken seem
to be those whoe outward appearance
betokens the most abject poverty.
Turn out of the main thoroughfare
and into the dimly-lighted back street
and you come upon scene after scene tc
the grim, grotesque horror of which
only thn pene.-l of a Dore could do just
ice. Women with hideous di-torted
faces are rolling from side to side shriek
ing aloud snatches of popular songs
plentifully interlarded w'th the vilasl
expressions. Men as drunk as them
selves meet them, there is a short inter
change of ribald jests ami foul oaths,
than a quarrel and a shower of blows.
Down from one dark court rings a r
of murder, and a woman, her fa e hid
eously gashed, makes across the narrow
road pursued bv a howling madman
It is only a drunken husband having s
row with his wife.
A friend cf mine, who is never tire:
of trying to urge the people of this dis
triet to temperance, not long since
found a man sitting up naked on a heat
of rags shivering ith the death throe?
on him, and crying for water for hi.
parched throat. His wife, in a ma'idlir
state of intoxication, was staring help
lessly at her dying husband. A coal
was given to wrap round the poor fel
low. At night, when my friend re
turned, he found the man cold am
dead and naked, and the woman in s
state of mail iutoxi atiou. She h:i
torn the coat from the body of the dy
ing man and pawned it for drink, lr
these districts men and women who an
starving will get grants of bread, and
some of them ask for the bread to be
wrapped in clean paper. Do you know
why? That they may sell the loaf tc
some one for a copper or two. and gel
drunk with the money. Men will comt
and buy a pair of boots in the montin-
out of their earnings, ami pay sever
shillings for them. At night they wil
return to the same shop and offer to sel
them back for four shill ngs. The
have started drinking, and want thi
money to finish -the carouse with. (.
IL Sims, in London Daily News.
Tcmiicrancc Items.
Some English insurance companic:
charge twenty per cent, less premiuit
to total abstainers than to moderate
drinkers. This is the result of an expe
rience with high death rates among tin
latter 'jlass.
Iiik Wisconsin Central Ra'Iroat
Company have sent letters to each ant
every agent aud employe on the lint
strictly forbidding the use of any alco
holic beverages, wine and beer" AI
honor to General Manager Finney, wru
has promulgated this total-abstinenet
doctrine so practically. Union Signal.
Geumanv's appetite for spirits grows
apace. In 1872, '3. -112,270 hectoliters o
spirituous liquors were consume 1 am
only two years later 1, 108.Cy8 hectoliters
The 8,880' whisky distilleries of Prussi:
Used up a whole potato crop in fotu
years and a whole rye crop in twelvi
years. Among the lunatics twenty-five
percent arc drinkers, and irrone" Rus
sian institution eighty-six percent, wen
such.
Does everybody known that the Can
adian Pacific Railway has a sectioi
reaching over the entire broad domaii
of the .Northwest Territory without :
single dram shop "on the'line?" Dc
people generally know that prohibitioi
prohibits on that railway to the exten
that a red-coated officer in Her Majesty's
service enters every train that crossc
the border and examines the passengers
baggage and remorselessly seizes even
drop of liquor that he finds, even to thi"
half-emptied flask of the traveler? Wil.
anybody say this is tyrannical interfer
ence? Then so is the Custom's service
of every land. Does anybody declare
it unwarrantable.-' L.et the peacefu
condition of society rebut the charge,
and the fact that in this region of sav
ages and savage depredations not r
white man has been killed by Indians
since the policy was adopted. The rail
way officials also testify to its benefi
cence in the construction and maintain
ance of the road. Union Signal.
A whiter in the Union Signal says
"I don't like to give rumore from the
wires, but here are two so good that
they ought to be true. One savs that
Governor Blackburn, of Kcntuckj-,
when he was installed in his office, elc
termined he would not touch alcohol ir
any form while in office, and when he
had retired said he had kept his deter
mination. The other is that Governor
Robinson, of Massachusetts, when a
member of the Special Committee on
the Improvement of the Mississippi
River, secured a vote at the first meet
ing by which the Sergeant-at-Arms was
ordereel not to furnish any liquors. Fen
once such a trip was made in which
there was no intoxication and no scan
dal. The cities of Memphis, Heleur..
Natchez and New Orleans tenderetl
great dinners. At bis suggestion they
were declined, anel the t'me given tc
visiting the improvements which ttz
Government was making. If true, ane.
I am inclinctl to think they are, these
items speak a brave worel for the effect
of Temperance effort."
V
rA
rH
A
h
ffiykri." ' t.
Jb&iSimimSi
"' "'t .;-
