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It Wan . the Privilege of a Prlcnd.
An eminent array officer has a man
I
servant who has been . with him a num-
Jbey' of years . and who occasionally :
4 ! srJjaks his mind with a candor that ,
, I ! ay : he imagines is warranted by his :
: . "long service. " / A friend of the officer ,
.
I ! , who overheard the servitor's frank
Y
I - ness , asked why such familiarity was
f
,
I ' , { . , ! permitted.
I
"Well , " said the officer , "I hardly
, ; , ' look upon James as a valet , but , rathe
" as a friend ; and , as you knqpr , it is a
: , . friend's privilege to tell you things
, f
: ' about , yourself that yqu hardly like to
I ; think about yourself.'V-Success Maga-
# ' Eine. I
f .
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f . .
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I I +
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cctGuarapti .
I
r I
: Vag-Dc . uuuerstoti It.
Teacher--Clarence do
Sunday School Teacher - - ,
. you know the meaning of the' word '
. "amen : ? "
CIarence--Yes'm. It mean
Litt ) : ! Clarence - . me
"ring off. " \
. P&OF. MUNYON'S PHILANTHROPY"
Giving to the Nation a Prize That
, .
Money : Cannot Buy.
' "I would rather preserve the health
- of a nation than to be its ruler.-
If tint/on.
J This motto , written by Prof. Munyon
about sixteen years ago , was the real
. cornerstone of his medicine business.
He felt that the people'-of the nation
vere neglecting their health owing to
lack of money. With the one thought
in view of helping humanity , he start
ed in the medicine business , paying
large sums of mone/ to eminent spe
, cialists for known and tried formulas
been suc
tnat were known to have
I . cessful in curing diseases. After care-
fully compounding these formulas and
putting them up in a marketable con-
ditionp offered them to the public
for a few pennies , easily within the
Teach of the poorest family. He hired
eminent specialists at large salaries
and offered their services absolutely
free to the public to diagnose their
cases and advise them whatremedies
to take. ' After giVing the public all
these benefits he was still unsatisfied
\
and offered further to those who wl e
not in reach of the offices which Jie
established throughout the country ;
ie advertised , asking them to write to
- his specialists for free medical ex
amination , and to - darr Prof. Munyon
Is Still following out this policy , and
. whenever he hears of a new drug or
-a new formula that is more effective
! than those that he is at the time com-
i * pounding , he purchases them regard-
less of cost.
Prof. Munyon puts up a separate
cure for almost every ill , and these
remedies can be had at all druggists , ,
mostly 25 cents a bottle. In taking
these remedies , you are taking what
might be called a sure thing , for he
.guarantees them to produce satisfac
tory results or he will refund your
money. This is a remarkable man
and a remarkable .institution , mani-
lestly fair to all , and a firm that we do
Dot hesitate to recommend to our
readers.
Prof. Mu yon's address is 53d and
l Jefferson streets , Philadelphia ! Pa.
" "
t , . ' Hotme 'Numbers Changed.
Opportunity had knocked at tiro dooi
et the man of genius.
.
- "You've made a mistake . , " said the
- man , recognizing him. "The rising pu-
{ Cilist you are looking for lives next
door. "
WORTH KNOWING.
. t- .
Simple Remedy That Anyone Can
Prepare at Home. ,
Most ) people are ' more " or less subject
l
, to coughs and colds. A simple remedy
that will break up a cold quickly and .
' ture any cough that is curable is made
i I by mixing two ounces of Glycerine , . a
I \ , ' half-ounce of Virgin Oil of Pine com-
pound pure and 'eight ounces of pure
Whisky. You can get these in any good
dryg store and easily mix them in a
, , large bottle. The mixture " } 3 highly
I recommended by the Leach Chemical ]
. Co. of Cincinnati , who prepare the
genuine Virgin Qil of Pine com ound
pure for dispensing. .
,
u Faith and Work
.
. Johnny-What would you do if you
II
"was out In the deep water and a great
big shark was comin' right at you ?
' Tommy-I'd do a short prayer and
'I then I'd swim like the old scratch.
- SORE EYES CURED.
I
f . , ' JEye-lmlls and Lids Became Terri- , .
bI. , . . Inflamed - Was TJnahlo to Go
Treatments Failed '
I About - All I'
SucceHMful.
j , Cuticura Proved I
J " "About two years "ago my eyes got
- 11 -In-such a condition that , I ' was unable
I' / ' ' to go about. They were terribly In
j J /1' flamed , both the balls ! and lids. I tried
1 I ' home remedies without relief. Then I
j decided to go to our family physician ,
, I l but he didn't help them. Then I tried"
, 1 . two more of our most prominent phy-
/slcians , but my eyes grew continually
I
worse. At this time a friend of mine
I I advised me to try Cutlcura Ointment ,
and after using it about one week my
f I eyes - were considerably improved and
i in two weens they were almost welL
; . ' They have never given me any trouble
1 ' eince and I am now sixty-five years"
. old. I shall never fail $ to praise Cut ,
; / . cura. G. B. Halsey , Mouth of Wilson
, Ii ! : . . ' ya. , April 4 , 1908. " , '
I . " ; ' Potter Drug & Chem. Corp. , Sol
i ' . ; . _ Props. of Cutlciira Remedies Boston. -
- , a. ' . ' J
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eb
e
. . .rrte. . : - - . : - - : : : : , . - ? : : ; ? . . , . : ; : : - - ' , - - = - , : ; w. . . . . . ' . : - . : . . . . w.
" " - , .
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The fedemptioD { ' ,
s Cfjavid' eotSotJ
"
,
By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS
Copyriffht , 1900 , by The Bowen-Merrill Company. All Rights . Reserved
. t I
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CHAPTER XX.
The steamer on which Corson em
barked after his overland journey from
New York City' to Pittsburg , had de '
scended the Ohio almost as far as Cin
cinnati , before other thoughts than
those which were concerned with Pe-
peeta and his spiritual regeneration
could awaken any interest in his : mind.
' Cincin
But as the boat approached
nati , the places , the persons and the
incidents of his childhood world began
to present themselves to his conscious
ness. An irrepressible longing to look
once more upon he place of his birth
and the friends of his youth took pos I
session of his- mind.
, He found , on inquiry , that the boat
was to remain in Cincinnati for sev
eral hours , and that there would be
time enough for him to make the jour
ney to his old home and back before
she proceeded down the river. He de-
cided to do so , and observed with sat
isfaction that those painful gropings
for the next stepping " stone across the
streams action which had been so
persistent and painful a feature o'f his
recent life- had given place to the swift
intuitions of his youth. , He saw his
way as he used to when a boy , and
made his decisions rapidly and exe
cuted / them fearlessly. The discovery :
of this fact gave a new zest and hope
.
to life. .
In a few moments after he had land
ed p at the familiar wharf he was mount
ed upon a fleet horse , rushing away :
oyer those beautiful rolling hills which
fill the riiind of the traveler with un-
cloying delight in their variety , their
fertility and their beauty. It was the
first time since he had left the farm
that his mind had been free enough
from passion or pain to bestow its full
attention upon the charms of Nature ;
they dawned on him now like a new
discovery. The motion of the horse-
so long unfamiliar , so easy , so grace
ful , so rhyth'mical-seemed of itself to
key his spirits to his environment , for :
it is an elemental pleasure to be seat
ed' in the saddle and feel the thrill of
power and rapid motion. The rider's ;
eyes brightened , his cheeks glowed , his :
pulses bounded. He gathered up the
beauties of 'the world around him in
great sheaves of delicious and thrill-
ing sensations. Long-forgotten odors :
came sweeping across the fields , rich I
with the verdure of the vernal season ,
and brought with them season'l
'
companiments'of the almost-forgotten !
past. The rich and varied colors of :
field and sky : and forest fed his starved
soul with one kind of beauty ; and tlie
sweet sounds of the outdoor world in
toxicated him with another. The low
of cattle , the bleating of sheep , the
crowing of chanticleers , the cackling
of hens , the gobble of turkeys , the
multiduninous songs of the birds en-
veloped him in a sort of musical at
mosphere. For the first time since
his restoration to hope , the past seem
ed like a dream , and these few bliss-
ful moments became : a prophecy of a
new and grander life. "For , if the bur
den can fall off for a , single moment ,
why not for many moments ? " So he
said to himself , as the consciousness
of his past npsery and his unknown
future thrust their disturbing faces in
to the midst of these blissful emo-
tions.
The fpute ( which he had chosen did
not lead to the farm house , but to the
cemetery where the body of his moth-
er lay wrapped\in her dreamless sleep ;
that neglected grave , was drawing him
to itself with a magnetic force. He
who , for a year , had thought of her
scarcely at all , now thought of nothing
else. The last incident in her life , the
face white with its intolerable pain of
confession , the gasp for breath , the
sudden fall the quiet funeral , his own
responsibility for this tragic death-he
lived it all over and over again in an
instant of time as grief , regret , re-
morse , successively swept his heart.
Tying his horse outside the lonely
burying ground , he threaded his way
among the myrtle-covered graves - " to
the : low mound which marked her rest-
ing place , approached it , removed his
hat and stood silently : reverently , by
its side.
There come to us all hours or mo-
ments of sudden and unexpected dis-
closures of the hidden meaning of life !
Such an one' ' came to David , there by
that lowly grave. He saw , as in the
light of eternity , the grandeur and
beautj- of that character which the
story ; of her sin and suffering had
made him , in his immaturity , misin-
terpret and despise ! He did hot com-
prehend that tragic story when she
told it ; it was impossible that he
should , for he had no knowledge\
experience adequate to furnish him
the clew.
As he stood there by . her grave ,
measuring this deep and tragic expe-
rience with his new divining rod of
sympathy , there rushed upon him an
overmastering desire to reveal his ap-
preciation to that suffering heart be-
yond the skies. ' A feeling of bitterness
at his inability to do this frenzied
htm ; a newrconsciousness of the irony' :
of life in permitting him to make these
discoveries' when they could do her no I
good plunged him suddenly into a I
struggle with the darker problems of I
being which for a little while had I
ceased to vex him.x !
"Do all the appreciations of heroism
come too late ? " he asked his sad
heart. "Do we acquire wisdom only
when we can no longer be guided by
it ? Do we achieve self-mastery and
real virtue only to be despised by our
l'hildrenVhere is the clue to this
tangle ! Oh ! mother , mother , ifI
could 'only have one single hour to
ask thee what thou didst learn about
this awful mystery in tlose lonely
years of struggle ! If I could only tell
hee , of my penitence , of my adraira-
. I \ ; ' -
. 'L R
> . : , q l' : " , " ! . ' ' .
1 j
'tion , my love ! But it is too late - toe
late. " x
With this despairing : cry on his lips , ,
he flung himself upon the grave , bur
ied his face in .the green turf and
I "burst into a convulsive passion , ol
tears , such' tears as pome once 01
twice , perhaps , in the lives of mosl :
men , when they a/e passing through
the awful years of adjustment to the
incomprehensible and apparently cha
otic , experiences of existence. ,
Like a thunderstorm , these convul
sions clear the atmosphere and give
relief to the strained tension of the
soul. At length , when h.is' emotion had
spent itself long-drawn sighs , Da
vid rose in a calm and tender frame
of mind , plucked a bunch of violets
from the grave and reluctantly turned
r
away.
On foot , and leading his horse , he
entered a quiet and secluded path
which led past the rear of the farm
He had not consciously determined
what he should do next ; but his heart
impelled him irresistibly toward that
little bridge where he had encountered
Pepeeta on his return from the lum
ber camp. It was at that place and
that hour , perhaps , that he had passed ,
through the deepest experience of his
whole life , for it was there that the
full power of the beauty of the -woman
in whom he had met his destiny had
burst upon him , and it was there that
for the first time he had consciously
surrendered himself to those rich emo
tions which love enkindles in the soul.
He threw the horse's " bridle . , over the
limb of a tree , leaned over the hand
rail of the bridge and looked down in-
to the . water. The stillness of the
world , the slumber-song of , the stream 1 ,
the haunting power of the past super
induced a mood of abstraction so com
mon in other , happier days.
Oblivious to all the objects and
events of that outside world , he stood
there dreaming of the past. , While he
did so , Pepeeta , following her daily :
custom , left the farm-house to take
an evening walk. She also sought the
little bridge. Perhaps she was' sum
moned to this spot by some telepathic
message from her lover ; perhaps it
was habit ' tnat impelled her , perhaps
it was some fascination in the place
itself. She moved forward with the
quiet step pecuiar to natures which
are sensitive to the charm of the great ;
solitudes of the world , and came noiseH-
lessly out from the low buses behind
the lonely watcher. As she steppod
out into the road / she caught sight of
the solitary figure and her heart , an-
ticipating her eye in its swift recogni
tion , throbbed , so violently that she
placed her hand on her bosom as if
to . still it. ,
"David ! " she said , in a low whisper.
She paused to observe him for a
moment a"nd , as he did not stir , began
to move quietly towards him as he
stood there motionless-a silhouette
against the background of the darken-
ing sky. She drew near enough to
touch him ; but so profound was his ;
reverie that he was oblivious of her ]
presence. It could not have been long
that Pepeeta waited , although it seem-
ed ages before he moved , sighed and
breathed her name.
She touched him on the arm. He
turned , and so met her there , face to :
face.
. It was an experience too deep for
language , and their emotions found ! ex-
pression in a single simple act. They
clasped each other's hands and stood '
silently looking into each other's eyes :
After many moments of silence David
asked : "Why do you not speak to me ,
Pepeeta ? "
"My : eyes have told you all , " she
said. ;
"But what they say , is too good to
be believe ; ! ! . You must confirm their
mute utterance'with a living word , " he
cried. - .
"I love you , love you , love you , " she
replied. . :
"You love me ! I bless you for it ; ;
Pepeeta , but there is something'
that I must know. "
"What can it be ? Is not everything
comprehended in that single word ? It
is all-embracing as the air ! It enfolds
life as the sky enfolds the world ! "
"Ah ! Pepeeta , you 'loved , me. when
we parted , but you did not forgive
'
me ! " .
She dropped her eyes.
"Have you forgiven me now ? "
"It is not true that I did not forgive
you , " she replied , looking up at his
face " again. "There has never been in
my heart for a single moment any
sense of a wrong which I couhl not
) ardon. It has been one of the awful
mysteries of this experience e that I
could not feel that wrong ! When I
tried to feel it most , my heart would
' say to me , 'you are not sorry that he
loved you , Pepeeta ! You would rather
that all this agony should liav be-
fallen you than that he should not
have loved you at all ! ' It is this feel-
ing that has bewildered me , David.
Explain it to me. Let me know how
I could have such feelings in my heart
and yet be good. ' It seems as if I
ought to hate you ; but , .1 cannot. I
love you love you , love you. "
"But , Pepeeta , if you loved me , why
did you leave me ? I do not compre-
. hend. How could you let me stand in
the darkness under your window and
then turn away from it into the awful
blacknes's and solitude to which I
fled ? " _ ,
"Do not reproach me , I thought it
was my duty , David. "
" 1 do not reproach you. I only want
to know your inmost heart. "
"I do not know ! There has : been all
the time something stronger than my-
self impelling me. I grew , too weak to
reason. I felt that the he'art had rea-
sons of its own , too deep for the mind
to fathom , and I yielded "them. " . 'l
was only a woman after all , David.
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,
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I Love Is stronger ' than woman ! , Oh ! It
was I who wronged you. I ought not
to have forsaken you. Ought I ? I do
not know , even now Who can tell me
what is right ? Who can lead me out
of this frightful labyrinth ? 1C 1 did
wrong in seeking you , I humbly ask
the pardon of God , and if I did wrong
in abandoning you , I ask forgiveness
in all lowliness and meekness from the
man I wronge < ' . "
"No , Pepeeta , you have never wrong
ed me ; I alone have been to blame
The result could not have been really
different , no matter what course you
took. The scourge would have fallen
anyway ! All that has happened has
been inevitable. Justice had to ) ' be vin
dicated. If it had not come in one
way , it would in another , for there are
no short cuts and evasions in tragedies
like this ! Every result that is attach
ed to these causes must be drawn up
by them like the links in "a chain , anc
one ' never -knows when , , the' end has
come. "
His solemn manner and earnest
words alarmed Pepeeta.
"Oh , David , " she cried "it cannot ,
cannot be SQ awful. Such consequences
cannot ( hang upon the deeds we com
mit in the limitations and ignorance ol
this earthly life. "
"Forgive me , Pepeeta , I should no\ \
talk so. These are the fears of my
darker moments. I have brighter 'hopes
and thoughts. There is a quiet feel ;
ing inr my - heart about the future thai
grows with the passing days. God is
, good , and he will give us strength tc
meet whatever comes. We must live , ,
and while we live we will hope for the
best. Life is a giff and it is our duty _
to enjoy it. " .
"Oh ! it is good to hear you say
that ! It comforts me. I thinkxit can
not be possible that we should not be
able to escape from this darkness ii
we are willing to follow the divine
light. "
"I think so , too , " he said. ,
His words were spoken with such
assurance as to awaken a vague sur
prise that he had reasons which he
had not told. She pressed his hands
and besought him to explain.
"Oh ! tell me , " she said , eagerly ; "is
there anything new ? Has anything
happened ? "
"Pepeeta , " he answered , slowly , "we
have been strangely and kindly deal ! ;
with. It is not quite so bad as ii I
seemed , for I. did not kill him. "
"You did not kill him ! What do
you mean ? "
"No , it is a strange story ! I thought
J had killed him. I knew murder wag
' in my heart. It was no fault of mine
that the blow -was not fatal. I left
him in the road for dead. But , thank
God. he did not die ; he did not die
, then ! " ,
.
"He did not die then ? Have you
seen him ? Is he dead now ? Tell me !
Tell me ! " - ,
( To be continued. )
IIis Money.
Luther M. Burbank , the , plant wiz
ard of California , said . of/hooey , aprO' '
pos : of a flower that bees love :
"This - flower grows abundantly n.eai
Santa Barbara , and there was once a
young Califoraian who often visited
a leading Santa : Barbara hotel , because
they have such excellent honey there
-a honey the bees make from this
flower. Well , -the young man got mar-
,
vried in due course , and 'the ' wedding
trip itinerary-must include Santa Bar-
'ba 'a , so that the bride might taste this ,
Superb honey. But , the first r morning
at , the Santa , Barbara hotel , there was
no honey on the . breakfast table. The
bridegroom frowned. He called the
old familiar waiter over .to him :
" 'Where's my honey ? ' he demanded.
" ' < fcie waiter hesitated , looked awk
wardly at the 'bride , then bent towards ,
the young man's ear and in a : stage
whisper stammered :
" 'Elr - ' Mamie don't work here no
' ' '
more , sir.
.
' . An Elusive Menu.
The opossum is good to eat , but not
being dealt in by any organized pro
vision company , is sometimes hard to
*
get. 'A tourist in Georgia , says a
writer in the Washington Times , stay
ed overnight at the Palace Hotel , in a
little village , and expressed a desire
to : taste' ' Georgia opossum. The whole
opossum ' , cooked in ' genuine Georgia
style , with potatoes on the' side was .
placed before him.
' Two dollars extra for the possum , "
said ; the landlord l , when the guest
came ; to settle.
"It's an outrage said the guest.
S "It's according to the way you look
at it , stranger , " said the landlord - ;
"but it took me six nights' swamp- ;
wading to catch that possum , an' when
I : caught him I caught the rheumatism
with him. "
Uii wholesome.
Medicine \lan-\Vhat is the mattei
with your majesty ? 1
Cannibal King - Oh , I've an awful
'
indigestion !
Medicine \Ian-W'hat have you been
eating ? ,
Cannibal King - I have just polished
off . an American : millionaire.
Medicine Man - Good heavens ! No
wonder you are ill ! I've told you re
peatedly , to beware of'anything rich.
-London TH-Bits. -
Saved His Life.
"I saved a beggar's life yesterday. "
1
"How ? "
"I asked him what he'd do if ' I gave
him a sovereign. 'Good Lor' ! he said.
'I [ should drop down dead. : So I put
the - sovereign back into my pocket.-
°
London Mail. \ .
r
They "Were Sliaily.
Bung - . So you have ' succeeded in
.
tracing back my ancesors ? What Is
' fee ? .
your
Genealogist - Twenty guineas for
keeping quiet about them. - Cassell'a
Saturday Journal.
-
and self-control
It is patience
that the truly heroic character : is pel
' fected. - S. Smiles. f
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, ' " . ' , ) , , \ ' . : , . " ' Y ' . . . ' . ' -0 - o , : " ' . . , . . . . . ! - . . ' . \ . .y. . " : ' , j' . . . - . * , _ .
.
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_
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RI5TMAS i
ACROSTIC.
ACROSTIC.I
Carollers singing in morning gray ; , I
Holly and ivy in brave array ;
RingIng of bells in the tow'r aloft ,
/ncense below and a chanting soft-
Wo should it be on Christmas !
2'elling the tale of theWonderfulChild , , ,
Mary , his worshiping Mother mild ,
Angels adoring in Heay'n above
Singing their praises of infinite love.
So it should be on Christmas ,
Ever should be. on Christmas !
-Nora Archibald Smith.
O
. .
"Sne did , " said the girl with the
turquoise bossed dog collar , with an
emphatic little nod. "She actually did.
I de'clare I felt so ashamed of her that
'
I didn't know what to do. "
"I should think you would have
been , " said her friend with the sable
muff. "I'd have been mortified to
death if it , had been a friend of mine. "
"I don't see how she could have
helped it myself , " admitted the girl
with the turquoise bossed dog collar.
"She was there when Harry brought
the mistletoe and hung ; It up. And It
Isn't a thing one would forget. Yes ,
she walked deliberately halfway across
the room and stopped there. Willie
called , to her , but she needn't have
stopped. , N v
"When Willie 'rushed up she looked
just as innocent and surprised as could
be. And when he put his arm around
her she acted as if she thought he
had suddenly gone crazy - - as if she
hadn't the faintest idea of what' he
was going to do. "
"Well , all I can say is that I am
glad she , isn't visiting with me. I
wouldn't 'care if she was my cousin. "
"She's awfully nice , ' though , in lots
of ways , " said the girl with the dog
collar. "Of course , in a small town
like Wessington you can't expect so
very much , but It isn't asbad - as you
might think , really. : She's got some
perfectly lovely clothes. When she
comes down I'll get her to show them
to you.
"Grace had some , " said the girl with
the sable muff. "The man ' she's en-
gaged to brought her no end of pretty-
things. But I 'think Willie ought to
. (
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have known better. : "
"I think so , too . , " said' the girl with
the dog collar. "I suppose he thought
that he had to kiss her. Did I tell
you that she slapped him ? " \ '
"What did Willie do ? " I' "
"He laughed. Everybody laughed.
They seemed to think it was a good
jok.
jok.T
-
T. 1e girl with the sable muff looked
thoughtful. "What puzzles W , " she
said , "is what she did it for. What
do you think ? Sh ) isn't exactly a
beauty. " ,
"
"That's what I say , " said the girl
with the . dog collar. ; "I know a lot
of girls there might : have been some
excuse fpr. She -stood there * half a
minute at least. It was so 'open. I
. '
don't honestly believe , though , that I
(
could have looked so unconcerned as
she did. Perhaps Willie thought she
didn't know what she was doing. "
"That wasn't the only place . you had
niistletoe hung , ' was it ? " asked the
girl , with the sable muff. .
"Well. I should say not / ' replied the
girl with the .turquoise bossed dog
.
collar. "There was a big bunch in.
the : cozy corner and another in the :
bay window behind the curtains. No ,
- . .
'
4. - - , . . , - -
- - - - " - - - r - -
- . . . . . . . - - - -
, .
_ " X . J
i
.
: ,
. there wasn't the least arxetJBe - for her. "
' anybody needs the
"I don't see what
" said tat ,
old mistletoe for anywaysaid , .
girl with the sable muff. - _ i . . '
,
"
.
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST. .
I "
The . Butterfly That Lived In . t ' ,
" t
Christinas Tree.
went - to the-
Papa , Archie and May , thj
. Faps as tree and
Christmas
woods to get a ,
' wanted-a llttl * r
. found just' what they
pine , -bushy and straight. - '
"
"There is something I must cut off ,
. littlar
said Archie. He pointed to a t
twigs and
gray bunch on one of the ,
I pulled out hit -knife. / ,
his
"No , no ! " cried May , holding
hand. "Let it stay. It's a poor litU .
#
caterpillar's house. "
May was right. One'Indian summer
dressed in brown
day a caterpillar ,
in tha ,
. walk
velvet , was taking a
woods. At last he came to the little ,
pine tree and thought to himself ,
the win-
"What a nice place to spend
y
.
ter ! "
So he made himself a little house.
He made it very tight and close , of '
fine , soft thread , and fastened up' th & 9'
door. He did not leave himself * even " .sxr - = # ' ?
a window to look out. If there had- r
been one , how it would have surprised n
: him to see that he ' and his house and
.
the pine tree were riding in a sleigh
: with papa and May and Archie.
He would have Been still more sur
prised if he had seen the tree stand
ing. in the parlor , covered with toy
and trinkets and little candles.
"It must be spring 'at last , " he-
thought , for it was very warm : : in tha-
parlor.
So he poked a hole in the wall of
his house , and out he came. But what
do you think ? He was not a cater
.
pillar. "
"Oh , see the lovely butterfiy ! " - ' criet
-
May.
May.He ' and the- '
He flevr to the tiptop bough ,
children said there was nothing else
- * -butterfly. .
'on the tiee so pretty as -
"He must have come down the chim- :
{
ney with Santa Claus , " said May. And
. she never- guessed that he came out of
I the caterpillar's house.-Youth's Com ;
.
panion. , * .
! ,
-
I \
"Snnpdrason.
How to Piny : :
- "Snapdragon" is a Christmas game-
handed down from time immemorial.
. c
A broad , shallow bowl has a quantity ;
of raisins in the : bottom , and over
.
these alcohol or brandy is poured and
ignited. The dish . is then passed . . A .
everybody Jn turn trying to take a. '
raisin from ' the flames. It requires ,
rapidity of movement and a certain ' ,
amount of courage to perform : this feat , , y
the entire company meanwhile sinj& ! I
ing the ancient song : "
Here he comes with flowing bowl ; i
Don't he mean . to take _ his toll ? -
Snip ! Snap ! Dragon ! f ,
Take care you do not take too mucl . l
Be you greedy In your clutch.
. . . .
Snip ! Snap ! Dragon ! . . . - _ " >
- I
' 'Christmas Eve. ' : . ' , 1
God bless the babies' stockings
. ,
All over the land to-night ! '
God bless the little children
Asleep' In the hearthfire's light.
. . . . , / '
May the baby hands be helpful / '
Let : the baby feet tread s'ure , / .
Keep the sweet eyes meet for heaven . - /
And the soft , lips true and pure.
God bless the babies' stockings
AH over the land to-night ; . ,
God keep the little children
Asleep in the hearthfire's light. .
I - Discovered. . , " .
I "Papa , " said little , Petie , "doe
Kriss- Kringle bring little boys toy i
ahead of Christmas ? " "No , my son , " .
replied the father. "Why do you ask ? "
"I ' was a wonderin' , what them new
toys - \ \ < IS I found away back in the loft '
i
behind the trunks. " - Philadelphia
North American. . . 7
'
The Simple Fact.
'
StuJ'vesarGoing to turn over ' "a -
new leaf , New 1 ar's day , old' man ? '
Schermerhorn-No , going to 1ura
over the sa.me old leaf. - Brooklyn ' Ea -
gle. 4
- . . - - - - - -
= : : :
- - - - - - - - - - - - . - - - - = -
i
.
" 1
d . , , rut r ,
r l-i
k\\ :
\ G O litUc babe. O gentle babe. ' . .
l ? 1 , That ha manger lies , , h
.e \ A-listcning o the choral sweet
> r. , + Which\.float3 a-down the skies ; . , .
\ r r ; a We , through the year , who'only hear , - -
, . v . , Thevorlds harsh thundering } , - . . ' j
Listen' that We. dear babewith thee. . , , -
I\1ay \ hear the angels sing. < , : . . . '
, . ; j- ' , : i , .
" "
. - * _ _ _
I - O little babe. 0 gentle ba"be , . : - a : . .
1 - ' _ 'Who lookest toward the star , I * - ' ; - * ' . ,
- : ' . r1 And seest when they bear their gifts t
- " Those wise men from afar ' " * * * ,
From wandering wide , back to thy side. tt- . . ' , .
t ' " . ' " r
Weary and worn we flee ; ' : . . .
' " * * .
' , ' ; - ' But hearts that bleed and hands that need . . . . ; ' * *
{ Are aH ! we have for thee. - " * * ' - - . . . . .
I . . i. . : .
. _ .
. ! r " :
, - . . ' 4' .
. P little babe. 0 gentle babe. ' - ' : - _
: \ r' I Our hearts were hard and co'd ; ; . ' .
G The . star we loved . the star of fame ! . , . : c
The song the song of gold. " * . "
At the mangers side this Christmastide. " ' ' - ' .
i We listen and we long I " . , . . . . ' -
z : . .j To see that star shine from afar
6 ; { , And hear the angels tong. , . .
-Rcharc1 F. Soulcr
I I II s- : .
s -
M fJ .J .
. ,
.
.
.
-
, ' . - ' -
\ I _ ' : : -
J . ' t4 -iii
-
. . )
