R INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. ,
CHAPTER VII.
. pg ra R. LORRAINE was
' ' rjLfrWl / \ U0W l011S PaSt th0
' 0MltMM sreat cliraateric ,
y Mlr anl brcaclnS , fastJ
m
jyv [ * * * * il lnleea" . so infirm
rMf had he uecome that
% W lsS > b lie had more than
> * r
y fliisc once thought of re-
\//mk " tiring from the
MM ministry altogeth-
"V * er. Though hfs
hody was frail ,
however , his intellect was as bright as
-ever , and when Marjorlc entered the
study ho was busily engaged in read
ing one of his favorite books.
Ho looked up witli his kindly smile
as his foster-daughter appeared.
"Is it you , my bairn ? " he said , as
he came over and kissed her. "Wel
come home again ! Though you have
been scarcely a week away , I have
missed you sorely , and have been
counting the days till your return. "
For some months past , I should now
explain , Marjorie had been accustomed
* to stay at a ladies' school in the neigh
boring town from Monday till Friday
of every week , returning each Friday
k afternoon , and remaining till the fol
lowing Monday. This arrangement had
been found necessary , as it was im
possible for the girl to complete her
simple education at home , and as the
distance was too great for her to go
to an-1 fro daily without inconvenience.
"And what news have you got from
the town ? " continued the minister , as
Marjorie , holding his hand in hers ,
sank into a chair at his side. "How is
Miss Carruthers ? and how do you get
aloag with your studies ? "
"Miss Carruthers sends her compli
ments , and as she is called away to
I Edinburgh to see her sick sister I am
to bklo at home for a week. A whole
week , Mr. Lorraine , and in May-time !
Oh , I am so glad ! "
"So am I , my bairn , " said the min
ister , "A week's rest will do me good ,
too , I hope , for I have been far from
well since you went away. I had one
of my old attacks on Tuesday , and
have been obliged to keep in the
house. "
"You will be better now , " said Mar
jorie. "I will nurse you ! "
"Ay , ay ; and the sight of your face
and the sound of your voice will do
me more good than the doctor. By the
way , my bairn , I had one here today
inquiring after you , and she will be
here again this evening. "
"I know ! Miss Hetherington , of the
Castle ? "
"Yes , Miss Hetherington. It is
r.trange , my bairn , how much interest
the good lady takes in you she who
cares so little for any other living
thing ; and yet , after all , it is not
strange , for my Marjorie is a favorite
with high and low. "
The girl's face grew troubled as she
answered :
"I hope , Mr. Lorraine , she won't bo
anking me up to the Castle ; I feel so
lonely there , and she she frightens
me sometimes ! She has such strange
Avays , and the house is an awfui place. "
"Well , well , you must be careful not
to offend her , for she is a true
friend. "
"I know she is very rich and good ,
too. , but for all that I cannot bear to be
alone in her company. I wonder why
she likes to have me ! She sits in her
arm-chair looking at me for hours to
gether , till sometimes I feel as if I
could scream out and run away ! "
"She is a strange woman , " said the
minister , thoughtfully ; "but you have
i , ) " ' no reason to fear her. She takes a
" \ ' * great interest in you , and in all that
• , , concerns you. "
j / , "I know that , but "
r } t "Her eccentricities are only put on ,
V I think , to conceal a heart that is truly
, " kindly. You must try to humor her ,
V _ _ my bairn. Not that I would have you
% v shape your conduct toward her by any
J& sordid hope of future gain ; no , no ,
gg ' that would be unworthy ; but it is well ,
M \ after all to have so powerful a friend ,
HI - - V 3 should anything happen to me. "
iJSmK % - - "Oh , don't speak like that ! " ex-
fHfP % 5 ? claimed Marjorie , her eyes filling with
HH - & N ? tears. "I cannot bear it. "
W&k j § ' Solomon here interrupted the con-
. HR " * ; * J"vcrsation by bringing in the tea.
lEpK : * fb Marjorie took off her hat and shawl ,
H * - / and , sitting at the table , began to pour
m l4 & out th * tea' while Mr * Lorraine , forget-
jm' " 3 $ ' tins his recent train o thought , ques-
Sf tioned her anew about her doings in
If the town. Thus far they chatted cheer-
it * fully together and shared the simple
s
n meal.
E "And how about the French , MarI -
I ' " Mr. Lorraine
, jorie ? asked presently.
* L "Aro you coming on ? "
J ' "Very slowly , " was her reply. "I
M- , : find it hard to pronounce , and the verbs
I" „ ' , . are a dreadful trouble and the gen-
| < . v " l ders. It's so hard to tell whether a
, > - . thing is masculine or feminine , and I
\ ' : ' * " ' wonder how the French folks them
es , v * .selves can tell. I'm afraid I'll never
V ' \ > learn the French rightly. "
i ' - " I 'T could never master it myself ,
Mg J J * - though , after all , maybe , I never fairly
e • -Q- * tried ; it's " a queer kind of tongue , like
r.y " the chirping of birds , I'm thinking.
| , * - "What like is your teacher ? "
.V ' "Monsieur Caussidiere ? A handsome
s"y gentleman , with black hair and black
* > . - -eyes. * *
"A young man , Marjorie ? "
I J- "Not old , but very grave and sad as
: if he had had much trouble ; and I
#
think ho has , for ho is an exile and
cannot return to his native land. "
"Has he not other scholars ? " he
asked quietly.
"Only myself out of our school. I
go to his house for my lesson every
afternoon. And he Is very , very kind !
He would scarcely take the fees. He
said "
But here Marjorie paused and blush
ed , for she suddenly remembered
Caussidiero's words and ardent looks
of admiration.
"Well , what did he say ? "
"He said he was ashamed to take
money for teaching , and then then
talked about France , and how he longed
to return , and how sad it was to be an
exile. That was all ! "
Mr. Lorraine did not question any
further , but seemed plunged in thought.
"By the way , Marjorie , " he said , after
a pause , "you know that your school
fees are paid by Miss Hetherington ? "
Marjorie nodded.
"It was her wish that you should he
taught French. For my own part , I
never thought much of either the lan
guage or the people , but that may be
my prejudice. Miss Hetherington thinks
that every young lady should learn
French. Curious , the interest she takes
in you ! "
There was a noise at the front door ,
a sound of feet in the lobby.
Solomon entered abruptly.
"She's outside , " he said. "Will I
bring her in ? "
"Who is outside , Solomon , ray man ? "
"Wha but Mistress Hetherington ,
frae the Castle. The carriage is at the
door , and she's wrangling wi' the
driver. "
Mr. Lorraine rose feebly from his
• chair , while Marjorie nervously put
down her cup and saucer and prepared
to receive the visitor.
"This way , mem ! " said Solomon ; and
immediately there entered the room a
woman of middle height , with snow-
white hair , leaning upon a staff or
hand-crutch.
She had black piercing eyes , a com
plexion like alabaster , and her front
teeth projected slightly over her under
lip. Though she had the air of an old
woman and walked with' stoop , nor
face had scarcely a wrinkle , and her
voice was deep and powerful.
Marjorie sprang up and stood , trem
bling. Without a word , Miss Hether
ington crossed the room and looked
fixedly in the young girl's face.
"Weel , Marjorie Annan ? " she said in
a strong Scotch accent.
"How how do you do , Miss Hether
ington V\
"As you see well enough not to
complain. Stand still and lot me look
at ye ! There , you may kiss me if you
'
like ! "
Marjorie "did not like-but she bent
forward and touched the lady's frosty
cheek.
"Did ye come doon in the wagon
ette ? Nae need to answer , for I ken ,
and I ken who came along wi' ye !
What's this between you and Johnnie
Sutherland ? "
Had a bomb exploded under her Teet ,
Marjorie could not have shown more
consternation. She stammered , and
blushed , and cast an appealing glance
at Mr. Lorraine.
"How's &is , Marjorie ? " he said ,
gently. ! 'You'did not tell me that
Johnnie had come back. "
"I'll swear she didna , " exclaimed
Miss Hetherington , with a low , harsh
laugh. "See hoe she blushes ! The lad
and she had a tryste in Dumfries , and
came down together. "
Here Solomon , who stood at the room
door looking on , thought it his duty
to interfere.
"And what then ? What if Johnnie
Sutherland did convey our Marjorie
hame ? There's nae hairm in that , I'm
thinking. "
"Hold you tongue , Solomon Muckle-
backit , " said Miss Hetherington , with
a sharp rap of "her crutch upon the
ground. "Mind your own business ! "
"It is my business , " retorted Solo
mon , doggedly. "Marjorie , dinna heed
her ! "
"Solomon ! " cried Mr. Lorraine , with
a certain authority.
"Weel ? "
"Be good enough to leave the room. "
The old man uttered a low snort of
defiance , but immediately obeyed. Miss
Hetherington took a chair close to the
fireplace , and sat in it , leaning heavily
on her crutch.
"Nae fool like an old fool ! " she mut
tered , ieoking at Mr. Lorraine , but ie-
ferring to the refractory sexton. "Be
tween the twa o' ye , you're spoiling
Marjorie Annan altogether. "
"I hope not , " returned the minister
mildly , resuming his own seat. "After
all , too , Solomon is quite right. John
nie and Marjorie are old friends. "
"All the parish kens that , " said the
lady of the Castle. "Come here , Mar
jorie , and dinna be feared I'll no eat
you ! Look me in the face ! Are you
and Johnnie courting ? "
Marjorie " s face was scarlet , and she
trembled violently.
"Oh , Miss Hetherington , " she cried ,
"what do you mean ? "
And she held out her hand to Mr.
Lorraine , as if beseeching him to take
her part ,
"Really , Miss Hetherington , " he said ,
"MarjcrJc is a child , and I am sure such
nonsense as you speak of has never (
entered her head. "
"Nonsense , is it ? " retorted the lady ,
mmmmmakmmmammtmmamimmtmmmmmmtmm
with the same low , harah laugh as be
fore. "Weel , it's the nonsense to
which a' folk come early or late , gentle
and simple , and trust me to ken bet
ter than eithar you or that idiot Solo
mon what young lasses are made oDe \
Do you think Marjorie Annan's made
of stane or aim , and doesna ken a fair
favored lad from a rowan tree or a
milk coo ? "
"I think she is too young for lovemaking -
making , " , , returned the minister.
"Then you think wrang ; it's never
o'er early for a lassie to begin. As for
Johnnie , I'll no say but what he's a
decent lad and a modest , and he has
talent as weel , the rogue , heaps o * tal
ent , though he's only a weaver's son
eh , Marjorie. has he no ? "
And as she looked at Marjorie there
was no anger in her stern black eyes ;
rather a sort of grim-humored sym
pathy. Seeing his foster-child's con
fusion , Mr. Lorraine attempted to give
the conversation another turn.
"If young Sutherland has developed
natural gifts he has you to thank for
the opportunity. We all know how kind
you have been to him. "
"Because I bought two o' his pic
tures , " she retorted , with her charac
teristic and disagreeable laugh. "I gave
fifty pound apiece for them , the more
fool I. One was a view o' the Castle
frae the south , wi' a cuddie eating
thistles in the foreground a cuddie as
big as a hippopotamus ; and the other
was Marjorie hersel , ' wi' her lap full
o' wild flowers , sitting by the side o *
Annan water , and about as like her ,
by that token , as it was like Solomon
Mucklebackit. "
"We always considered it an excel
lent likenesB , " said Mr. Lorraine , good-
humoredly.
"So it was , " cried Marjorie impul
sively ; "everybody said so. "
"And what everybody said must be
true ? " demanded the lady , with a sneer.
"Weel , likeness or no likeness , the lad
has talent , as I said ; and if he work3
hard , , maybe he'll be able some fine day
to paint a picture. So much for John
nie Sutherland. Now we'll come to the
business -which brought me doon. 1
want Marjorie to come to me tomor
row and spend the day. "
The very proposal which Marjorie
dreaded ! She opened her lips to give
a trembling refusal , to frame some
awkward excuse , but before she could
say a word Miss Hetherington con
tinued with decision :
"I'll be expecting her early , say at
ten. She can walk the distance , unless
she's o'er idle ; in that case , I'll send
the carriage to fetch her. "
"I am very sorry , " stammered Mar
jorie , "but tommorrow "
She paused , and glanced in supplica
tion at her foster-father.
"The fact is , " said Mr. Lorraine , "we
had made other arrangements for to
morrow. Some other day , maybe. "
Miss Hetherington's eyes flashed , and
her crutch was sharply struck upon the
floor.
"Tomorrow and no other day will
suit me. I hae something to say to hei
that wiil na keep. Do you hear that ,
Marjorie ? "
"Yes , " answered Marjorie timidly ;
"but I have only just come home , and
I would rather "
"Come or stay , " she exclaimed.
"Please yoursel' , Marjorie Annan ;
but if you stay at home the morn ,
you'll wait lang for another invita-
tipn. "
Eager not to give offense , Mr. Lor
raine now interposed.
"If you wish it , Marjorie shall come '
"Very well , " said Miss Hetheringt/
sharply ; then , turning to the girl , s'ie
added : "Will you walk , or shall i
send the carriage ? "
"I I will walk , " returned Marjorie
timidly , with the air of one doomed to
condign punishment.
"Then I'll expect you at ten , and nae
later. Now , gie me your arm to ths
carriage. "
Marjorie obeyed , and with a short
"God-day" to the minister , Miss Heth
erington left the room.
( to be continued. )
Napoleon's Jonrncy to Elba.
That the wrath of his subjects com
pelled the great Napoleon to play a
very undignified part when he traveled
from Fontainebleau to Elba in 1814 is
known to all readers of history. The
full details , however , of that wretched
journey have only just been revealed
by the publication of Count Paul Schou-
valoff's original reports to Count Nes-
selrode. From Lyons onward the tem
per of the population grew more and
more violent. At Orgon a gibbet had
been prepared and the little escort
had much difficulty in robbing it of so
illustrious a victim. A few miles
further Napoleon , becoming alarmed ,
donned the blue uniform and white
cockade of one of the outriders , whom
he induced to fill his place in the car
riage. Thus attired he reached Aix at.
full gallop. Then the innkeeper's wife ,
ignorant of his identity , cried , "So Na
poleon is coming ! They had much bet
ter kill him at once. As soon as they
get him on the sea they will certainly
drown him. " After hearing these
words the emperor assumed the name
of Lord Burghersh , but next morning
borrowed the uniform of an Austrian
general , and instead of occupying his
own carriage drove behind it in a hum
ble caliche as a member of the foreign
suite.
Those Unnecessary < > uestions.
He had lost control of his wheel and
the wheel left him to his fate. He
rose in the air and then pitched upon
the dusty road , gathering great quan-j
titles of dirt and accumulating achea |
and bruises. A few moments after-j
ward a sympathetic countryman came'
along. "Had a fall , eh ? " "No. " "Ye
didn't ? Then what's happened ? " "i
climbed a tree to look at the scenery.
How are crops and what are you charg- *
irig a dozen for Franco-German pota' ;
toes ? ' Judge.
" i i n * ' * x
TALMAGE'S3 SEEMON.
"
"CORN HUSKING TIME , " SUN
DAY'S SUBJECT.
1'rom the I'ollowlne : Text ; .rob , rhaptcr
V „ Vituo JJO : "As u Shock ut Cora
Cometh In In Ills ScitKon. " The Ilur-
vc t IValtlnjr for the Lord.
/tg OING at the rate of
EWti \ lf forty mlles < -he hour
p3 V2 } ) a few clays ago I
Sf C bjs _ _ _ J' caught this sermon.
&h-n $ % * 0 lf y ° u liave I'ecent-
ly been in the fields
| * of Pennsylvania , or
Nev Jersey or New
>
st y * w
Is fcwk York , or New Eng-
$ * land , or any of the
* ® districts
country ,
you know that corn
is nearly all cut. The sharp knife
struck through the stalks and left
them all along the fields until a man
came with a bundle of straw and
twisted a few of these wisps of straw
into a band , and then gathering up as
much of the corn as he could compass
with his arms , he bound it with this
wisp of straw , and then stood it in the
field in what is called a shock.
It is estimated that there are now
several billion bushels of corn standing
in the shock , waiting to be husked.
Sometime during the latter part pf next
month , the farmers will gather , one day
on one farm , another day on another
farm , and they will put on their rough
husking apron , and they will take the
husking peg , which is a piece of iron
with a leather loop fastened to the
hand , and with it unsheath the corn
from the husk and toss it into the
golden heap. Then the wagons will
come along and take it to the corn
crib.
crib.How
How vividly to all those of us who
were born in the country comes the re
membrance of husking time. We wait
ed for it as for a ' gala day in the year.
It was called a frolic. The trees hav
ing for the most part shed their foliage ,
the farmers waded through the fallen
leaves and came through the keen
morning air to the gleeful company.
The frosts which had silvered every
thing during the night began to melt
off of the top of the corn shocks.
While the farmers Avere waiting for
others , they stood blowing their breath
through their fingers.or threshing their
arms arounds their body to keep up
warmth of circulation.
Roaring mirth greeted the late farm
er as he crawled over the fence. Joke
and repartee and rustic salutation
abounded. All ready , now ! The men
take hold the shock of corn and hurl
it prostrate./while the moles and mice
which have secreted themselves there
for warmth attempt escape. The withe
of straw is unwound from the corn
shock , and the stalks , heavy with the
wealth of grain , are rolled into two
bundles , between which the husker sits
down. The husking peg is thrust in
until it strikes the corn , and then the
fingers rip off the sheathing of the ear ,
and there is a crack as the root of the
corn is snapped off from the husk , and
the grain , disimprisoned , is hurled up
into the sunlight.
The air is so tonic , the work is so
very exhilarating , the company is so
blithe , that some laugh , and some shout
and some sing , and some banter , and
some tease a neighbor for a romantic
ride along the edge of the woods in an
eventide , in a carriage that holds but
two , and some prophesy as to the num
ber of bushels to the field , and others
go into competition as to which shall
rifle the most corn shocks before sun
down.
After a while , the dinner horn sounds
from the farmhouse , and the table is
surrounded by a group of jolly and
hungry men. From all the pantries
and the cellars and the perches of fowl
on the place the richest dainties come ,
and there is carnival and neighborhood
reunion , and a scene which fills our
memory , part with smiles but more
with tears as we remember that the
farm belongs now to other owners , and
other hands gather in the fields , and
many of those v/ho mingled in that
merry husking scene have themselves
been reaped "like as a shock of corn
cometh in in his season. "
There is a difference of opinion as to
whether the Orientals knew anything
about the corn as it stands in our fields ;
but recent discoveries have found out
that the Hebrew knew all about Indian
maize , for there have been grains of the
corn picked up out of ancient crypts
and exhumed from hiding places where
they were put down many centuries
ago , and they have been planted in our
time and have come up just such Indian
maize as we raise in New York and
Ohio ; so I am right when I say that my
text may refer to a shock of corn just
as you and I bound it , just as you and I
threw it , just as you and I husked it.
There may come some practical and
useful and comforting lessons to all
our souls , while we think of coming in
at last "like a shock of corn coming in
in his season. "
It is high time that the King of Ter
rors were thrown out of the Christian
vocabulary. A vast multitude of people
ple talk of death as though it were the *
disaster of disasters instead of being
to a good man the blessing of blessings.
It is movlns out of a cold vestibule in
to a warm temple. It is migrating
into groves of redolence and perpetual
fruitage. It is a change from bleak
March to roseate June. It is a change
of manaclv ' " or garlands. It is the
transmut0 of the iron handcuffs of
eatf' • ' incarceration into the diamond-
. .ilitlets of a bridal party ; or to use
the suggestion of my text , it is only
husking time. It is the tearing off of
the rough sheath of the body that the
bright and the beautiful soul may go
free. Coming in "like a shock'of corn
cometh in in his season. " Christ
broke up a funeral procession at the
gate of Nain by making a resurrection
misgjgagiflT , „ „ , _ llitii
-
day for a young man and his mother.
And I would that I could break upyour
sadness , and halt the long funeral pro
cession of the world's grief by some
cheering and cheerful view of the last
transition.
We all know that husking time was a
time of frost. Frost on the fence.
Frost on the stubble. Frost on the
ground. Frost on the bare branches
of the trees. Frost In the air. Frost
on the hands of the huskers. You re
member we used to hide behind the
corn stacks so as to keep off the wind ,
but still you remember how shivering
was the body and how painful was the
cheek , and how benumbed were the
hands. But after awhile the sun was
high up.and all the frosts went out of
the air , and hilarities awakened the
echoes and joy from one corn shock
went up , "Aha , aha ! " and was answered
by joy from another corn shock , "Aha ,
aha ! "
So we realize that the death of our
friends is the nipping of many expecta
tions , the freezing , the chilling , the
frosting of many of our hopes. It is
fat from being a south wind. It comes
from the frigid north , and when they
go away from us we stand benumbed
in body and benumbed in mind and
benumbed in soul. We stand among
our dead neighbors , our dead families ,
and we say , "Will we ever get over it ? "
Yes , wo will get over it amid the
shoutings of heavenly reunion , and we
will look back to all these distresses
of bereavement only as the temporary
distresses of husking time. "Weeping
may endure for a night , but joy cometh
in the morning. " "Light , and but for
a moment , " said the apostle as he
clapped his hands , "light , and but for
a moment. " The chill of the frosts
followed by the gladness that cometh
in "like as a shock of corn cometh in
in his season. " * * *
Perhaps now this may be an answer
to a question which I asked one Sab
bath morning , but did not answer :
Why is it that so many really good people
ple have so dreadfully to suffer ? You
often find a good man with enough
pains and aches and distresses , you
would think , to discipline a whole col
ony , ! while you find a man who is per
fectly useless going about with easy
digestion and steady nerves and shin
ing health , and his exit from the world
is comparatively painless. How do
you explain that ? Well , I noticed in
the husking time that the husking peg
was thrust into the corn and then there
must be a stout pull before the swath
ing was taken off of the ear , and the
full , round , healthy , luxuriant corn was
developed ; while on the other hand
there was corn that hardly seemed
worth husking. We threw that into
a place all by itself and we called it
"nubbins. "
Some of it was mildewed , and some
of it was mice nibbled , and some of it
was great promise and no fulfilment.
All cobs and no corn. Nubbins ! After
the good corn had been driven up to
the barn we came around with the corn
basket and we picked up these nub
bins. They were worth saving , but
not worth much. So all around us
there are people who amount to noth
ing. They develop into no kind of use
fulness. They are nibbled on one side
by the world , and nibbled on the other
side by the devil , and mildewed all over.
Great promise and no fulfilment. All
cobs and no corn. Nubbins.
They are worth saving. I suppose
many of them will get to heaven , but
they are not worthy to be mentioned
in the same day with those ' who went
through great tribulation into the king
dom of our God. Who would not rath
er have the pains of this life , the mis
fortunes of this life who would not
rather be torn , and wounded , and la
cerated , and wrenched , and husked and
at last go in amid the very best grain
of the granary , than to be pronounced
not worth husking at all ? Nubbins !
In other words , I want to say to you
people who have distress of body , and
distress in business and distress of all
sorts , the Lord has not any grudge
against you. It is not derogatory , it
is complimentary. "Whom the Lord
loveth he chasteneih , " and it is proof
positive that there is something valua
ble in you , or the Lord would not have
husked you.
Now.in heaven all their offensiveness
has been husked off. Each one is as
happy as he can be. Every one he
meets as happy as he can be. Heaven
one great neighborhood reunion. All
kings and queens , all songsters , all
millionaires , all banqueters. God , the
Father , with his children all around
him. No "good by" in all the air. No
grave cut in all the hills. River of
crystal rolling over bed of pearl , un
der arch of chrysoprasus , into the sea
of glass mingled with fire. Stand at
tne gate of the granary and see the
grain come in ; out of the frosts into
the sunshine , out of the darkness into
the light , out of the tearing and the
ripping and the twisting and the
wrenching and the lacerating and the
husking time of earth into the wide
open door of the king's granary , "like
as a shock of corn cometh in in his
season. "
Yes , heaven , a great sociable , with
joy like the joy of the husking time.
No one there feeling so big he declines
to speak to some one who is not so
large. Archangel willing to listen to
smallest cherub. No bolting of the
door of caste at one heavenly mansion
to keep out the citizen of a smaller
mansion. No clique in one corner ,
whispering about a clique in another
corner. David taking none of the airs
of a giant killer. Joshua making no
one halt until he passes , because he
made the sun and moon halt. Paul
making no assumptions over the most
ordinary preacher of righteousness.
Naaman , captain of the Syrian host , no
more honored than the captive maid
who told him where he should get a
good doctor. 0 ! my soul , what a
country ! The humblest man a king.
The poorest woman a queen. The
meanest house a palace. The shortest
•
Ufa time eternity. And what la moro \ |
strange about It all Is , wo may all get J \
there. "Not I , " says some one. stand- f j
Ing back under the galleries. Yes.you. ; j
"Not I , " says some one who has not ' f
been in church In fifteen years before. |
Yes , you. "Not I , " saya some one who j I
has been for fifty years filling up his |
life with all kinds of wickedness. Yes , |
you. M
There are monopolies on earth , monopolistic - 1
opolistic railroads and monopolistic tel"m
egraph companies , and monopolistic m
grain dealers , but no monopoly In rellg- * JH
ion. All who want to ho saved may ra
be saved , "without money ami without |
price. " Salvation by the Lord Jesus M
Christ for all the people. Of course , W
use common sense in this matter. You 1
cannot expect to get to Charleston by M ,
taking ship for Portland , and you can W
not expect to get to heaven by going In } ER
an opposite direction. Believe In the Wi
Lord Jesus Christ and thou Bhalt bo MBj
saved. Through that one gate o Ml
pardon and peace all the race may go PI
"But , " says some one , "do you really KI
think I would bo at homo in that suftl
pernal society if I should reach It ? " jSjfl
I think you would. I know you would. ff fl
I remember that in the husking time 91
there was a great equality of feeling II
among the neighbors. There at ono Jffl
corn shock a farmer would bo at work l
who owned two hundred acres of Ml
ground. The man. whom ho was talk'l :
ing with at the next corn pfl
shock owned but thirty acres of II
ground , and perhaps all covered by a | 1 |
mortgage. That evening , at the close ff |
of the husking day , one man drove m [ |
home a roan span , so frisky , so full of jf H
life , they got their feet over the traces. | |
The other man walked home. Great X |
difference in education , great difference I H
in worldly means ; but I noticed at the ft l
husking time they all seemed to enjoy Pj H
each other's society. They did not ask l |
any man how much property he owned fii l
or what his education had been. They H |
all seemed to be happy together in H l
these good times. fl l
And so it will be in heaven. Our S |
Father will gather his children around | |
him , and the neighbors will come in , P l
and the past will be rehearsed. And l l
some one will tell of victory , and we I H
will all celebrate it. And some one |
|
will tell of great struggle , and we will f |
all praise the grace that fetched him l |
out of it. And some one will say , |
"Here is my old father , that I put away f |
with heartbreak. Just lock at him , he § |
is as young as any of us. " And some' ' i H
one will say , "Here is my darling child j f |
that I buried in Greenwood , and all thd I H
after years of my life were shadowed f |
with desolation. Just look at herj f H
She doesn't seem as If she had beeij f |
sick a minute. " Great sociality. Grea' f |
neighborhood kindness. J f l
What though John Milton sit dow | f |
on one side , and John Howard sit dow ! |
on the other side. No embarrassmen' l l
What though Charlotte Elizabeth si l M
down on one side , and Hannah Mor j H
sit down on the other side ? No embai , |
rassment. A monarch yourself , wh |
be embarrassed among monarchs ? M
songster yourself , why be embarrassc H
amid glorified songsters ? Go in ac |
RAISES MINT. f l
This Is the Queer Business or a Worn. , * |
Michigan. H
Buffalo Express : A little woman ' H |
in Michigan carries on a very remunc J |
ative business raising mint. She / l
Mrs. Mary Weber , and she inherit Hj
the business from her father. Some |
the mint is raised in hot beds , a |
these are the objects of constant c ; |
by the family , which consists of t H
widow and a grown-up son and dauj |
ter of 1G years. The profitable-seas |
is between the months of May and < |
tober , and June , the best month of | | |
The mint roots are set out in May , t M
the proprietress time is given to tbT H
from that date until late in the |
tumn. She clips and bunches the n H |
in the afternoon and evening , and |
morning is given to sales. She dry M
to the leading hotels and'makes D
sales herself. It is not necessary to |
licit custom. Most of it has been H
herited with the mint bed. The : H
who patronized her father give t |
patronage to the daughter. She is |
without competitors , but they are |
of the male sex and are not as gal |
as might be expected. Mrs. We |
like the wise business woman sh |
refuses to say how much the pr < |
bed yields , but safe to say HH
she keeps the big house "going , " < H
puts aside the desired sum in prov B
for a "rainy day. " She has suppla M
her income by dealing in lemo H
Every summer she drive |
to the country for a radius tn j l
miles in search of rye straw thai j l
serve that purpose. she find. M
kind she desires she buys ir |
field. But she is very hard to r | B
in the matter of the quality of H
and has finally settled to H
patronage farmer named |
Jack , who has a yearly contract | |
her. Womanlike , she cannot tell |
is most desirable in the straw , bi f
"knows when she sees and zt M
sufficient.
Gibbon In H
Edward Gibbon , the great hist |
parliament for many ycai H
achieved no success in the hcusf |
morning , he tells , he |
an army barbariai |
came to the and the H
ter the shape of a H
offering to secure him a seat in H |
for L : H
Gibbon represented the borough H
without ever c H
his mouth ; and ence when movi f
so he lacked the confidence < |
The great * |
him with and ! |
ones with terror. He grew hea H |
" " B
"this parliamentary prattle"
"the noise nonsense of the H |
moniura , " as he terms parlla ] | |