hi N-
B ST INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. .
[ 11 CHAPTER V.
k\ \ \ 1 i HE public wagon-
V | /i cUc in whch ! Mar"
v / W
WL ' jltliti homo ran dally
i * ' ney
< _ _ _ 'U
B \ i sfiyrOk ! between Dumfries
/
B\ /1 * | | E | $ Jp and Annannioutli , a
& 1 - W j jil&ijjl small seaside vil-
_ _ L t "JWyffMi lage mUcn frequont-
Rkp S ? y ' / its sea-bathing , alul
m \ ' passed within half
BY \ a mile of Mr. LorI -
I \ raino's abode , which was just six
B i \ Scotch miles away from Dumfries itself.
I \ / The starting place , was the Bonny Jean
B V Commercial Inn an establishment said
B At * to have been much patronized by the
B 3' Poet BurriB during his residence in the
B jK .south of Scotland ; and hither Marjorie ,
B Jk/ 'after leaving her tutor , proceeded with-
B | k The wagonette was about to start ;
\ ? And Marjorie hastened to take her
Bj , * * v/ adaee. The vehicle was drawn by two
Rfcjf powerful horses , and could accommodate -
* *
% date a dozen passengers inside and one
B' | l more on the seat of the driver ; but
L • today there were only a few going
_ _ *
B ft \ three farmers and their wives , a sailor
B f / on nis way ilome from sea , and a couple
B L of female farm servants who had come
M l in to the spring "hiring. " All these
H ' Iiad taken their seats ; but John Suth-
H erland stood by the trap waiting to
Bj J hand Marjorie in. She stepped in and
H j- took her place and the young man
H . found a seat at her side , when the
H / driver took the reii ? and mounted to
H ( his seat , and with waves and smiles
H ' v from the Misses Dalrymple , who kept
L / -the Bonny Jean Inn , and a cheer from
B A a very small boy on the pavement away
B > the/ went
B- % , At last the vehicle reached the
M r cross-roads where John and Marjorie
V / were to alight. They leapt out , and
B J pursued their way on foot , the young
B > man carrying a small hand-valise ,
I A \ Marjorie still holding her school books
| k h underneath her arm.
P * Presently they came to a two-arched
r yi bridge which spanned the Annan. They
H rt paused just above the keystone. The
K U young man rested his valise on the
B \ mossy wall , and both looked thought-
B 1 fully down at the flowing stream.
B i "It's many a long year , Marjorie ,
B since wo first stood here. I was a bare-
B rooted callant , you were a wean scarce
B able to run ; and now I'm a man , and
fc you're almost a woman. Yet here's
B r * the Annan beneath us , the same as
B" \ ever , and it will bo-the same when
Bl we're both old always the same. " .
BCs f Marjorie turned her head awayf < and
BP A icr eyes ' were dim with tears.
4 \ "Come away , " she said ; "I cannot
*
B % > bear to look at it ! Whenever I watch
B * J the Annan I seem to see my mother's
Hr v drowned face looking up at me out of
fl c the quiet water. "
K * E C P& young man drew closer to her ,
i \ : v ' gently touched her hand.
K 1 , Jon't greet , Marjorie ! " he mur-
f \ mured softly ; • "ybur poor mother's at
K % peace with God. "
Bl % "Yes , Johnnie , I ken that , " answered
B 1 the * sirl'in ra""broken voice ; "but it's
B I ad , sad , to have neither kith nor kin ,
B ( and to remember the way my mother
B > i died ay , and not even to be able to
Bt J guess her name ! Whiles I feel very
B \ lonesome , when I think it all o'er. "
K S "And no wonder ! But you have
Bji J. those that love you dearly , for all that
BaTir ) There's not a lady in the country more
hb thought of than yourself , and wherever
B your bonny face has come it has
4 \ brought comfort"
B k As he spoke he took her hand in his
BA * i own , and looked at her very fondly ;
Blf' but her own gaze was far away , fol-
B § J lowing her wistful thoughts.
BvV i "You're all very good to me , " * she
H J' & said presently , "Mr. Lorraine , and Solo-
B iJ\ mon , and all my friends ; but , for all
B | * 3' that , I miss my own kith and kin. "
BI He bent his face close to hers , as he
Br 1 \ returned :
B } "Some day , Marjorie , you'll have a
J : \ A house and kin of your own , and then
BCV | He paused , blushing , for her clear ,
1- steadfast eyes were suddenly turned
B 1 - & full upon his face.
# \ "What do you mean , , Johnnie ? "
JTf "l mean that y ° uH marry , and "
Bs \ Brightness broke through the cloud ,
a \ and Marjorie smiled.
H\x "Marry ? Is it me ? It's early in the
BJfI day to ttinlc oi tliat' at seventeen ! "
Bx f "Other young lasses think of it , Mar-
Hf X jorie , and so must you. Our Agnes
ElJnr married last Martinmas , and she was
Bffi only a year older than yourself. "
PjC | Marjorie shook her head , then her
Bilt lace grew sad again as her eyes fell
B if f upon Annan water.
Bjj"I'm naebody's bairn , " she cried ,
B % . "and shall be naebody's wife , John-
H JI "Don't say that , Marjorie , " . an-
H \ swered Sutherland , still holding her
B % i hand and pressing it fondly. "There's
m if on0 that loves y ° u dearer U13-11 acF-
K % thing else in all the -world. "
B m She looked at him steadfastly , while
Mh\ \ % . Ills face flushed scarlet.
F , \V "I know you love me , Johnnie , as if
B J X A you were my own brother. "
4 f "More than that , Marjorie more , a
I t thousand times ! " the young man con-
I B -Unued passionately. "Ah ! it has ceen
I B on my mind a thousand times to tell *
I Mi yovL how much. Ever since we were
I vf little lass and lad you've been the one
I i % " * nou6nt' and dream of my life ; and if
tt * : ' - Jr l Llifgg3 gglgyg > ; ' • jaiirrfrn'fmirrTffiit "
I'vo striven hard and hoped to become
a painter , it has all been for love of
you. 1 know my folk are poor , and
that in other respects I'm not a match
for you , who have been brought up as
a lady , but there will be neither peace
nor happiness for me in this world un
lays 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 what 30
many people knew , but which she
beisclf had never suspected , came upon
her as a shock of sharp pain ; so that
when ho ceased , trembling and con
fused by the vehemence of his own
confession , she was quite pale , and all
the light seemed to have gone out of
her beautiful eyes as she replied :
'
"Don't talk like that ! You're not
serious ! Your wife ! I shall be 'nae
body's wife , ' as I said , but surely , sure
ly not yours. " N
"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
slNill be a lady 0 ! Marjorie , tell me
you care for me , and will make me
happy ! "
"I do care for you , Johnnie ; I care
for you so much that I can't bear to
hear you talk as you have done. You
have been like my own brother , and
"
now
"And now 1 want to be something
nearer and dearer. Marjorie , speak to
me ; at least tell me you're not angry ! "
"Angry with you , Johnnie ? " she re
plied , smiling again , and giving him
both hands. "As if I could be ! But
you must be very good , and not speak
of it again. "
She disengaged herself and moved
slowly across the bridge. He lifted his
valise and followed her anxiously.
"I know what it is , " he said sadly ,
aa they went on side by side together.
"You think I'm too poor , and you would
be 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
if they were my own ; and as for your
being poor , I shouldn't like you at all
if you were rich. But , " she added gent
ly , "I like you as my brother best. "
"If I could be always even that I
should not mind ; but no , Marjorie ,
you're too bonny to bide alone , and if
any other man came and took you
from me , it would break my heart. "
"What nonsense j'ou talk ! " she ex
claimed , smiling again. "As if any oth
er man would care. If I were twenty ,
_ it would be time enough "to 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 bide my time and wait. "
By this time the village was in sight ,
and they were soon walking along the
main street.which was as sleepy and
deserted as usual. Even at the tavern
door not a soul was to be seen ; but the
landlord's face looked out from behind
'
the window-pane with a grim nod of
greeting. A few houses beyond the
inn , Sutherland paused close to a small ,
one-storied cottage , in front of which
wTas a tiny garden laid out in pansy
beds.
"
"Will you come in , Marjorie ? " he
asked doubtfully.
Marjorie nodded and smiled , and
without another word he opened the
garden gate , crossed the walk , and led
the way into the cottage.
CHAPTER VI.
l S they entered the
I door a loud humming -
| ming sound came
I upon their ears ,
J mingled with the
sound of voices.
Turning to the
right , they found
themselves on the
threshold of a
room , half parlor ,
half kitchen , at one
end of which was a large loom , where
an elderly man , of grave and some
what careworn aspect , was busily weav
ing. Seated on a chair close to him
was a girl of about fourteen , dressed in
the ordinary petticoat and short gown ,
and reading aloud from a book. At the
other end of the room , where there was
an open ingle and a fire , an elderly
matron was cooking.
Suddenly there was an exclamation
from the latter , who was the first to
perceive the entrance of the newcom
ers.
"Johnnie ! " she cried , holding out her
arms ; and in another moment she had
folded her son in her embrace , and was
kissing him fondly.
The young girl rose , smiling , book in
hand ; the man ceased liis weaving , but
remained quite still-in his chair.
"Yes , here I am , mother ; and I've
brought company , as you see ! " ,
"Hoo's a' wi' ye , Marjorie ? " cried ihe
matron , holding out her hand. "It's a
treat to see your bonny face. Sit ye
down by the fire ! " .
"Is that my son ? " said the weaver ,
J $ 5 &SSfts. . I , " , ' MSU * 3fr . '
" _ _ l _ _ ' L ' " * MMIIHiH"'W'M'illMj ' ' WJIHHeLW1IIJ IHWPfiUMIHIHiHPII
in a deep , musical voice , but wlthont
turning his head. His infirmity was
now apparent ho was stone blind.
John Sutherland walked acrosg the
room , gave I1I3 sister a passing kiss ,
and placed his hand affectionately on
the old man's shoulder.
"It's youreeF. my lad ! I ken you noo.
I feel your breath about mo ! What
way did ye no write to tell us you were
on the road hame ? "
"I waB not sure until the last mo
ment that I could start so soon , but I
jumped into the train last night , and
down I came. "
"Who's alanc wi' you ? " asked the
weaver , smiling. "I'll wager it's Mar
jorie Annan ! "
"Yes , Mr. Sutherland , " answered
Marjorie , crossing the room and join
ing the little group. "I met Johnnie in
Dumfries , and we came home together. "
The weaver nodded his head gently ,
and the smile .on his face lightened into
loving sweetness.
' "Stand close , side by side , " he said ,
"while I tak' a long look at baith o'
ye. "
"While you look at us ! " echoed Mar
jorie in surprise.
"Ay , and what for no ? Dinna think ,
because my bodily een are blind , that I
canna see weel wi' the een o' my soul !
Ay , there you stand , lass and lad my
boy John and Marjorie Annan ; baith
fair , baith wi' blue een ; John prood and
glad , and Marjorie blushing by his
side ; and I see what you canna see a
light all roond and abune ye , coming
oot o' the golden gates o' Heaven !
Stand still a wee and hark ! Do ye hear
nothing ? Ay , but I can hear ! A
sound like kirk-bells ringing far awa\ "
As he spoke he sat with shining face ,
as if he indeed gazed on the sweet vis
ion he was describing. Marjorie grew
red as fire , and cast down her eyes ;
for she was only too conscious of the
old man's meaning , and , remembering
what had taken place that day , she felt
• constrained and almost annoyed. John ,
Sutherland shared her uneasiness , and
to divert the conversation into another
channel , he spoke to his young sister ,
who stood smiling close _ by.
Marjorie , uneasy lest the old man's
dreamy talk should again take an awk
ward turn , was determined to make her
escape.
"Good-bye now , Mr. Sutherland , "
she said , taking his hand in hers , "I
must run home ; Mr. Lorraine will bo
expecting me. "
And before any one could say a word
to detain her , she was crossing the
threshold of the cottage. Young Suth
erland followed her as far as the gar
den gate.
"Marjorie , " he said , "I hope you're
not angry ? "
"No , no , " she replied ; "but I wish
your father would not talk as if we
were courting , Johnnie. It makes me
feel so awkward , and you know It is
not true. " '
"Old folk will talk , " said John Sutn-
erland , "and father only speaks out of
Ihe fullness of his heart. He is very
fond of you , Marjorie ! "
"I know that , and I of him that is
why It troubles me to hear him talk
like that. "
There was a moment's pause ; then
Sutherland sadly held out his hand.
"Well , good-bye , just now. I'll be
looking ye up at the manse ! "
"Good-bye ! " she answered. "Come
soon ! Mr. Lcrraine will be so glad
to see you. "
So she hastened away , while Suther
land ; with a sigh , stood looking after
her. He had loved her so long and so
silently , and now for the first time in
his life he began to dread that she
might not love him in return. To Jiim ,
just then , it seemed as if all the world
was darkened , the blue sky clouded ,
all the sweet spring weather touchd
with a wintry sense of fear.
( TO BE CONTINUED. )
ORANGES WITH HORNS.
r
Some Strange Varieties of the fc'rnit
Grown by the Chinese.
The Chinese are very fond of mon
strous forms of fruit and flowers , and
any departure from the normal form is
usually cherished and highly valued.
In their gardens they have numerous
forms of monstrous oranges some
will produce fruit with points like
firgers , and are known as the Hand
Orange. Another form , says Meehan's
Monthly , has a long horn projecting
from the apex , and they are known as
the Horn Orange. Another variety ,
which botanists have known by the
name of Citrus aurantium distortum ,
bears a fruit in the resemblance of a
cluster of sea shells. To one ignorant
of the laws of vegetable morphology ,
these spells of wandering from the
normal type are very mysterious , but
when it is understood that all parts of
the orange , as well as other fruits , are
made up of what would have been
leaves or branches changed so as to
constitute the various parts of the
seed and seed vessels , and that a very
little difference in the degree of life
energy will change them into various
different parts that come to make up
the fruit , the mystery in a great meas
ure is solved. There are few branches
of botany which give the lover of fruits
and flowers so much pleasure as the
study of morphology.
iV Good Idea.
"I see from the war news , " remarked
Mrs. Snaggs , "that several magazines-
have been captured. "
"Yes , " replied Mr. Snaggs. "I sup
pose the object is to prevent the ed
itors from filling their pages with war
articles for the next twenty-five years. ' '
Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph.
The countries relatively richest in
horses and horned catlo are Argentina
and Uruguay. Australia has the most
sheep ; Servia has the greatest number
• of plga to the population. 1
*
wniwittwiifcitwiiiliKwi Miiiiwiwinii' irwiii 'imn Ml il ' " y
TALJIAGffi'S SEBMON.
"RUSTICITY IN A PALACE"
SUNDAY'S SUBJECT.
Prraclicd from the Text ; GenchU , Chap
ter X1.V. . Verso 28 , iim I'oIIoivh : "I
Will Go and 8i-e iliiu IUifi.ro 1 Die , "
Jucoh'rf Great Your * .
J * " MMrri
_ ACOB had long
If since passed the
h hundred year mile-
h stone. In those
w times people were
\ distinguished for
longevity. In the
l centuries after , per-
| i sons lived to great
If ase. Galen , the
* most celebrated
of his
52 . - physician
time , took so little of his own medi
cine , that he lived to one hundred and
forty years. A man of undoubted vera
city on the witness stand in England
swore that he remembered an event
one hundred and fifty years before.
Lord Bacon speaks of a countess who
had .cut1 three sets of teeth , and died
at one hundred and forty years. Jos
eph Crele , jbf Pennsylvania , lived one
hundred and forty years. In 1857 a
book was printed containing the names
of thirty-seven persons who lived one
hundred and forty years , and the names
of eleven persons who lived one hun
dred and fifty years.
Among the grand old people of
whom we have record was Jacob , the
shepherd of the text. But he had a bad
lot of boys. They were jealous and
ambitious and every way unprincipled.
Joseph , however , seemed to be an ex
ception , but he hf.d been gone many
years , and the probability was that he
was dead. As sometimes now in a house
you will find kept at the table a va
cant chair , a plate , a knife , a fork , for
some deceased member of the family ,
so Jacob kept in his heart a place for
his beloved Joseph. There sits the old
man , the flock of one hundred and for
ty years in their flight having alight
ed long enough to leave the marks of
their claw on forehead and cheek and
temple. His long beard snows down
over his chest. His eyes are some
what dim , and he can see farther when
they are closed than when they are
open , for he can see clear back into
the time when beautiful Rachel , his
wife , was living , and his children
shook the Oriental abode with their
merriment.
The centenarian is sitting dreaming
over the past when he hears a wagon
rumbling to the front door. He gets
up and goes to the door to see who has
arrived , and his long absent sons from
Egypt come in and announce to him
that Joseph , instead of being dead , is
living in an Egyptian palace , with all
the investiture of prime minister , next
*
to the king in the mightiest empire of
a $ 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 staff falls out of his
hand , and he would have dropped had
not the sons caught him and led him
to a lounge and put cold water on his
face , and fanned him a little.
In that half delirium the old man
mumbles something about his son 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 ? " But after -they had
fully resuscitated him , and the news
was confirmed , the tears began their
winding way down the crossroads of
the wrinkles , and the sunken lips of
the old man quiver , and he brings his
bent fingers together as he says : "Jo
seph is yet alive. I will go and see
him before I die. "
It did not take the old man a great
while to get ready , I 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
are cautious and like to ride slow , the
wagon did not get 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 and got into the
wagon and threw his arms around his
father's neck , it was an antithesis of
royalty and rusticity , of simplicity and
pomp , of filial affection and paternal
love , which leaves us so much in doubt
whether we had better laugh or cry ,
that we do both. So Jacob kept the
resolution of the text "I will go and
see him before I die. "
What a strong and unfailing thing
Is paternal attachment ! Was it not al
most time for Jacob to forget Joseph ?
The hot suns of many summers had
blazed on the heath ; the river Nile had
overflowed and receded , overflowed and
receded again and again ; the seed had
been sown and the harvests reaped ;
stars rose and set ; years of plenty and
years of famine had passed on ; but
the love of Jacob for Joseph in my text
Is overwhelmingly dramatic. Oh , that
is a cord that is not snapped , though
pulled on by many decades. Though
when the little child expired the par
ent may not have been more than
twenty-five years of age , and now they
are seventy-five , jret the vision of the
cradle , and the childish face , and the
first utterances of the infantile lips are
fresh to-day , in spite of the passage
of a half century. Joseph was as fresh
in Jacob's memory as ever , though at
seventeen years of age the boy had dis
appeared from the old homestead. I
found in our family record the story
of an infant that had died fifty years
before , and I said to my parents : "What
is this record , and what does it mean ? "
Their chief answer'was a long , deep
sigh. It was yet to them a very ten
der sorrow. What does that all mean ?
. Why , it means our children departed
are ours yet , and that cord of attach
ment reaching across the years will
! hold us until it brings us together in
the palace , as Jacob and Joseph were
brought together. That Is 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 as pastor and
every pastor is asked the question
"Will my children bo children in
heaven and forever clilldron ? " Well ,
there was no doubt a great change in
Joseph from the tjme Jacob lost him
and the time when Jacob found him
between the boy of seventeen years of
age and the man in mid-life , his fore
head developed with the great busi
ness of state ; but Jacob was glad to get
back Joseph anyhow , and it did not
make much difference to the old man
whether the boy looked older or looked
younger. And it will bo enough joy
for that parent if he can get back
that son , that daughter , at the gate of
heaven , whether the departed loved one
shall come a cherub or in full-grown
angelhood. There must be a change
wrought by that celestial climate and
by those supernal years , but it will only
be from loveliness to more loveliness ,
and from health to more radiant
health. O , parent , as you think of the
darling panting and white in membran
ous croup , I want you to know it will
be gloriously bettered in that land
where there has never been a death
and where all the inhabitants will live
on in the great future as long as God !
Joseph was Joseph notwithstanding the
palace , and your child will be 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 seated in the
palace looking around at the mirrors
and the fountains and the carved pil
lars , and oh ! how he wishes that
Rachel , his wife , was alive and she
could have come with him to see their
son In his great house. "Oh. " says the
old man within himself , "I do wish
Rachel could be here to see all this ! " I
visited at the farm house ot the father
of Millard Fillmore when the son was
'
president of the United States , and the
octogenarian farmer entertained me
until 11 o'clock at night telling me
what great things he saw in his son's
house at Washington , and what Daniel
Webster said to him , and how grand
ly Millard treated his father in the
White House. The old man's face was
illumined with the story until almost
midnight. He had just been visitiug
his son at the capitol. And I suppose
it was something of the same joy that
thrilled the heart of the old shepherd
as he stood in the palace of the prime
minister. It is a great day with you
when your old parents come to visit
you. Your little children stand around
with great wide-open eyes , wondering
how anybody could be so old. The par
ents cannot stay many days , for they
are a little restless , and especially at
nightfall , because they sleep better in
their own bed ; but while they tarry
you somehow feel there is a benedic
tion in every room in the house. They
are a little feeble , and you make it as
easy as you can for them , and you
realize they will probably not visit 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 lamp 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 the historical
scene of the text , did not think any
more of his father than you do of ybur
parents. The probability is , before they
leave your house they half spoil your
children with kindnesses. Grandfather
and grandmother are more lonientand
indulgent to your children than they
ever were with you. And what won
ders of revelation in the bombazine
pocket of the 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 before they leave. If they visit
you fifty times , the two most memor
able visits will be the first and the last.
Those two pictures will hang in the
hall of your memory while memory
lasts , and you will remember just how
they looked , and where they sat , and
what they said , and at what figure of
the carpet , and at what door sill they
parted with you , giving you the final
good-by. Do not be embarrassed if your
father come to town and he have the
manners of the shepherd , and if your
mother come 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 , and
remember what you are , and be thank
ful. "
By 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 this
place. How clumsy he would look
climbing up these marble stair3 , and
walking over these mosaics ! Then ,
he would be putting his hands upon
some of these frescoes. People would
wonder where that old greenhorn came
from. He would shock all the Egyp
tian court with his manners at table.
Besides that , he might get sick on my
hands , and he might be querulous.and
he might talk to me as though I were
only a boy , when I am the second man
in all the realm. Of course , he must
not suffer , and if there is famine in
his country and I hear there is I
will send him some provisions ; but I
can't take a man from Padanaram and
introduce him into this polite Egyp
tian court. What a nuisance it is to
have poor relations ! "
Joseph did not say that , but he
rushed out to meet his father with per
fect abandon of affection , and brought
him up to the palace , and introduced
him to the emperor , and provided for
all the rest of his father's days , and
nothing was too good for the old uian
while living ; and when he was dead ,
Joseph , -with military escort , took his
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father's romnins to the family ceme
tery. Would God all children wore as
kind to their parents.
If the father have largo propcrty.nnd
ho bo wise enough to keep it in bis
own name , ho will be respected by the
heirs ; but how often it is when the
son finds his father In famine , na Jos
eph found Jacob in famine , the young
people make it very hard for the old
man. They are so surprised he oatH
with a knife instead of a fork. They
are chagrined at his antediluvian ha
bits. They are provoked because he
cannot hear as well as ho used to , anil
when ho asks it over again , and the
son has to repeat it , he bawls in the
old man's car , "I hope you hear that ! "
How long he must wear the old coat or
the old hat before they get him a new-
one ! How chagrined they are at hia
independence of the English grammar !
How long he hangs on ! Seventy yearn
and not gone yet ! Seventy-five years
and not gone yet ! Eighty years and
not gone yet ! Will he ever go ? They
think it of no use to have a doctor in
his last sickness , and go up to the drug
store and get something that makes
him worse , and economize on a coffin ,
and beat the undertaker down to the
last point , giving n note for the re
duced amount which they never pay !
I have officiated at obsequies of aged
people wliero the family have been so
inordinately resigned to Providence
that I fejt like taking my text from
Proverbs , "The eye that mocketh at his
father , and refuseth to obey its moth
er , the ravens of the valley shall pick
it out , and the young eagles shall eat
it. " In other words , such an ingrate
ought to have a flock of crows for pall
bearers. I congratulate you if you
have the honor of providing for aged
parents. The blessing of the Lord
God of Joseph and Jacob will be on
you.
I rejoice to remember that though
my father lived in a plain house the
most of his days , he died in a man
sion provided by the filial piety of a
son who had achieved a fortune. There
the octogenarian sat , and the servants
waited on him. and there were plenty
of horses and plenty of carriages to
convey him , and a bower in which to
sit on long summer afternoous , dream
ing over the past ; and there was not a
room in the house where he was not
welcome , and there were musical in
struments of all sorts to regale him ;
and when life had passed , the neigh
bors came out and expressed all honor
possible , and carried him to the vil
lage Machpelah , and put him down be
side the Rachel with whom he had
lived more than half a century. Share
your successes with the old people.
The probability is , that the principles
they inculcated achieved your fortune
Give them a Christian percentage of
kindly consideration. Let Joseph di
vide with Jacob the pasture fields of
Goshen and the glories of the Egyp
tian court.
And here I would like to sing the
praises of the sisterhood who remained
unmarried that they might administer
tp aged parents. The brutal world
calls these self-sacrificing ones pecu
liar or angular ; but if you have had as
many annoyances as they have had ,
Xantippe would have been an angel
compared with you. It is easier to
take care of five rollicking , romping
children than of one childish old man.
Among" the best women of our land
are those who allowed the bloom of
H life to pass away while they were car
ing for their parents. While other
maidens were asleep , they were soak
ing the old man's feet , or tucking up
the covers around the invalid mother.
While other maidens were in the cotil
lon , they were dancing attendance up
on rheumatism and spreading plasters
for the lame back of the septenarian ,
and heating catnip tea for insomnia.
In almost every circle of our kindred
there has been some queen of self-sac
rifice to whom jeweled hand after jew
eled hand was offered in marriage , but
who stayed on the old place because of
the sense of filial obligation , until the
health was gone and the attractiveness
of personal presence had vanished.
Brutal society may call such a one by
a nickname. God calls her daughter ,
and heaven calls her saint , and I call
her domestic martyr. A half-dozen
ordinary women have not as much no
bility as could be found in the small
est joint of the little finger of her left
hand. Although the world has stood
six thousand years , this is the first
apotheosis of maidenhood , although in
the long line of those who have de
clined marriage that they might be
qualified for some especial mission are
the names of Anna Ross , and Mar
garet Breckinridge Mary Shelton ,
and Anna Etheridg' and GeoTgiana
Willets , the angels of the battlefields
of Fair Oaks and Lookout Mountain ,
and Chancellorsville , and Cooper Shop
Hospital ; and though single life ha3
been honored by the fact that the three
grandest men of the Bible John and
Paul and Christ were celibates.
Let the ungrateful world sneer at the
maiden aunt , but God has a throne
burnished for her arrival , and on one
side of that throne in heaven there is a
vase containing two jewels , the one
brighter than the Kohinoor of Lon
don Tower , and the other larger than
any diamond ever found in the dis
tricts of Golconda the one jewel by
the lapidary of the palace cut with the
words : "Inasmuch as ye did it to
father ; " the other jewel by the lap
idary of the palace cut with the words :
"Inasmuch as ye did it to mother. "
"Over the Hills to the Poorhouse" is
the exquisite ballad of Will Carleton ,
who found an old woman who ha I been
turned off by her prosperous sors ; but
I thank God I may find in my text ,
"Over the hills to the palace. "
A TJitr .Job.
Nell I don't suppose the girl who
married Jack Rappidde will ever have
' a _ other idle moment as long as she
lives. Belle Why. dear ? Nell She.
says she married him to reform him.
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