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A Yi.dt From St. Nicholas.
'Twa- the night before Christmas, when all
through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mou^e.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with
1.1 1IUHOD twt st. iju.iininh soon would he
The children were nestled all snug in their
While visions of sugar plums danced in their
And Mamma in her kerchief,and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's
When out on the lawn there aroso such a clat
I sprang 'rom my bed to bee what was the
A Tore open sash
way to the window I flew like a flash,
ore ope the shuttero and threw up the
THe ir.oon,on the breast of the new-fallen
Gave alustre of rnid-day to objects below
When, what to my wondering eyes should
But a mature sleigh, and eight tiny rein
W'th a 'ittle old driver, so lively and quick,
I knevv in a moment it must be Bt. \icK.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they
A: (1 lie whistled, and should, and called
them by name
"No D.isber! now, Dancer! now Prancer
On! oniet, on! UundcrandBlity.cn,
To the top of the poich. to the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away, all!
As dry leaves that befoic the wild hurricane
When they meet with an obotacle, mount to
8 up to the house-top the eoursero they Hew
Wi ha wJeigli lull of to\sand St. Nicholas
And then in a twinkling 1 heard on the roof,
Th prancing and pawing of each little hoof,
As I drew i'i mv head, and was turning around
low it," tmnney dt. Nicholas came with J.
And his cl
A bnndli ol fo.vs he had (lunar on his back,
And he looked like a peddlei ju=t opening his
-ed all in fur from his head to hie
were all tarnished with ashes
Hits .y'j how they twinkled! hw dimples how
His khfckh re like roses, his nose like a
And the. -u on liia chin was as white as theAY
Tin' -',a-ii of a pipe he held in his teeth,
Aid i.ue (moke iL eneiielud bis head like a
mouth was drawn up like
He narl brojil face and a little round belly
Th L1 phuok wnen he laughed, like a bowl full
He .in r'nib")y an
And hushed when I saw him in spite of
A of ey, and a ist of his head,
8oou^a\e 'a. La know I had nothing to dread.
Ho hpoke not a woid but went straight to his
And filled .ill the stockings then turned with
And laving his linger aside of his nose,
And giving iv no I up the chimney he rose.
p'ump- jht jolly old
Ho spr.uit Lis sleigh, to his team gave a
Auu away I hey ill Hew like the down of a
But I hP ird him exel lira, eiv he drove out of
"MXUItY ('nilHTMVH TO U.I., AN[ GoOlJ-
STfiEWIXfcr 11KMP SEEDS.
A Christmas Story.
'To'iiing next week?
"YV RJ6\ he'il be here for the New Year,
If not rig happens."
Knsiu to-v hoe ycl'ow ringlets, and put up
her r- up-, ine a childish po a.
ill hit him, jun Kuntc-e. I'm sure I
shah lh" simple i"..ec tti it I am bethrothecl
to Him, willv-mUv. would set mv heart against
htm if no vvero a Pi :no.- among men."
"H" i* a Pria im mir nvri, my dear, and
you'll le sine to like iuin," replied Aunt
"[tell you I'm sure not to like him," insisted
Rosie "Poor pupa made a great mistake he
should have left me live."
"It vvould have been wisct, perhaps but
you.- fhtv hud looked upon Ben as a son so
many yen s, ami f.dt sure o! his making a
'An old jok twice mv age," pouted Kosie.
"Oh, no, not (juKe -o out ,n that. But watt
until you "\\w br-cii him. Never cross a bridge
till you com in it. lionie. Bt'ii won't be here
for a week jet. When he is here, and you
have sf-en htm, if sou really dislike him I dan
say he'il not compel you to become his wife."
"But 1 promised poor papa on his death
bed,too, and a promise to the dying is sa-
Pretty Rosie w.is no kith or kin to Aunt
Eunice, on-y an adopted-hild, cherished and
loved for dead lathei'-. sake, and Ben was
Aunt Eur ce's only son, a Calcutta agent, who
had not seen M native land for years, and
who had last pm ted fn.m his promised bride
when she was a lit'le miss in pinafores.
But after his old friend's death, and Roste's
promise to become Lis sviie whenever he saw
lit to come h'vne. and claim her, Bjn had sent
home a handsome ring, and Rosie wore it on
her pretty tinker. And now ho was coming
in a week
"Don't fr"t, Risie, Wait until Ben is heie
and yon have seen him."
"See'ms him won't make me change
mind," retorted the vvilltivl girl. "I have hun
iu my mind's eye nosva poky old tojrv, just
like Mr. Sykes, the paraoti. Oh, dear'""
I trust the ea^e will not be quite so bad as
that, Rosie. But what are you going to do
with all those hemp needs, my dearfeed the
"Feed the pigeons, indeed!" cried Rosie,
transf -rring the seeds to her pocket "Why,
auntie. I'm going down to Hazel Hollow to
try i-ny fortune. All the utrls are doing it.
Jennie Burr strewed hemp one dan evening,
a month or so ag, and the handsomest young
man came followiug her, and now she's en
gaged to trm"
Aunt Eunice lausrhed, and crossing: the
room, drew the rin*s head to her breast and
klS-,"d her t-nderlj'.
"You're jjivnl child, Rosie, only a bit way
ward, and I trust sou mav beve-v ippy, dear,
whether you ever marry Ben or not. There,
run alonv, and strew your hemp seeds if you
must, and nnrry tuck to supper
Rosie ttirew on her shawl and scarlet hood,
and ran aw like the silly child she was.
The win was quite down wnen she reached
Hazel Hollo mid the saadosvs iay dark and
thick in the wild glen. Rosie was not the
bravest little woman iv the world, and her
heart save a great throb of fear as she walked
ou under the whi-permir willows
At the edi?e of tue Hollow she felt sorely
tempted to turn round and run back to Aunt
Eunice's cheery tireside, but a thought of Jen
nie Burr\s success urgid her on. She drew
out a handful of the magic seed and started
across the i'len
"Hemp sends straw, hempseeds I sov
Lai mv t'ue love follow me and mow."
She repeated the charmed couplet in alittle
quaveiing voice, strewing her 6eeds ri^ht and
left. She svm half across the gloomy Hollow
before she could muster courage to look back
When she did glance over her shoulder a
sharp cry butst from her lips. Not far behind
ber came a tall, manly figure, with something
which locked like a veritable scythe in hi
hand Rosie shiiek^d, stared an instant and
then sank down on the damp ground, scatter
ing her precious seeds as she fell.
she awoke to consciousness some time after
with a full moon sliming? in her eyes, and a
pair of mabculine arms supporting her head
"Oh, where am IV What has happenedV"
f-hc cried out in dismay, [as she struggled to
"Xothmg has happened," replied a deep
voice "only you were strewing hemp, and I
Kosie ventured one wild glance. A hand
some, bronzed, bearded face bent above her.
"Let me go home," she ^faltered, tremb
ling like a frightened bird, "home to Aunt
"Assoon as jou please, my dear Rosie hut
don't forget you belong to me now. The
fates willed jou see."
"Oh, let me go home," cried Rosie, in sore
"Come along I will escort you to the
And her strange companion drew her hand
within hia arm and led her along the moon
Rosiij'b heait beat she could not get her
bieath. The instant they reached the gate,
she broke away from him.
"What! jou won't even stop to say good
bye? No matter, we shall soon meet again.
You belong to me remember. No man alive
can ever take jou from me and token of
ray claim you shall wear thK
A heavy gold chain Hashed over her head,
and a quaint, caned locket hung upon her
Through the gate, across the lawn, never
p-iu.sing once to look tck, went Rosie, sob
bing like a child in hei excitement.
Aunt Eunice stoon on the steps of the old
fn in house awaiting her.
"Why, my dear, how long you have been!
I was just on the point of starting to hunt
"Oh, Aunt Eunice!" cried the girl, rushing
into her arms and beginning to sob outiight
"I am frightened to death. Some one did
follow me and speak to me, and, oh, look at
this on my neck!"
Auiit Eunice l-d her into the old fishioned
sitting room, nd by the light of the blazing
wood fiiu ohe examined the locket that hum
Irom the hea\y chain.
"Well," she said, looking at the pictured
far-e it contained, "a merry twinkle lighting
her eyes, "the face is a very nice one!
must be something in your hemp-'owm
alter all Rosn-!"
"Oh, theie is something. Aunt Euni'-e,'-
panted Rosie "Dicn't I tell jou that Jem.\
Burr's engaged to the man "svho followed
'So you did, pet. "Well, if it must be it
can't be helped. You'd hase tomairy this
handsome stranger, and let poor Ben and
your promi-o go!"
Rosie flu-hed charmingly as she stole a
glance at the pictured face, but the tears rose
in her eyes.
"No, I could never do that," she aid. "I
could never break my promise to poor pa-
Tio=,le -was in a jlutter of intense oxiitmetit
On the Sunday morning following her adven
ture, when she to her accuUomed place in
Aunt Eunice's pew, who should she see sit
ting opposite but the original of the picture in
her locket, the hero of her hemp-seed cnarm
"Oh, Aunt Eunice, look, there he is!"
gasped Rosfe, hr heart in her mouth.
"So I see, my dear," said the old lady, qui
etlj and, alter .service, svhen the st'iangci
ca.ne up and introduced himself a3 Mr. Am
brose, she ga\e him a cordial invitation to
accompany them home to dinner.
Home with them he went, and Rosie was
like one in a dream.
"Was ever a ru in so handsome, so distin
gmshed looking, so noble?" she burst forth
hen he was none. "Oh, Aunt Eunice, if
poor papa had left me free!"
ait, mj dear. When Ben gets home he'll
see some way out of the trouble. Ben alwaj
svas a cl -ver boy
And It sie waited, and learned, in the mean
time, that sweetest of all life's lessons, the
lesson ot first love
It was Christmas Eve. The old sitting
ro -m was hung with holly and mistletoe, the
wide lire-pi ace piled with huge yule h.gs, and
out in the gre.it roomy kitchen Aunt Eunice
was clnow deep in cakes and mince ph and
plum puddings, making ready to give her son
a substantial welcome.
"Poor Ben. he'd like my good things, I'm
sure," she said, as she trimme.d the crust of a
pie. "He always was fond of something nice
to eat, and he's been living on bird's nests and
puppies andjfri-d mice in that heathen
country for so many yeais, he'll enj -v Christ
mas at home I know. Here, Rosie child, run
to ttieshed.and fetch your apron full of chips,
this oven must be a leetle hotter. Hui ry, do!"
Rosie hurried out, but a good half hour
went by before she ieturned. At the garden
gate she met her heroher stranger lover
and Aunt Eunice and her oven were
"Gomu hurt-, Rosie," he called, I want to
speak lo you."
Rosie went to his side with burning cheeks
and downcast eyes.
"I've come to say good-by. Rosie," he said,
looking down upon her with tender, dark eyes
I am going away for a little while. You'll
not forget me while I'm gone, Rosie?"
Rosie made no answer
"Andyou'll wear this for my sake? Let me
put it on jour finger, Rosie?"
But Rosie put aside the sparkling diamond.
"No, \lr Ambrose, you can't put it on mv
"Why not, Rosie? I mean it for an engage
ment ring. I lo'e von. Rose, and vou belong
me, you know, by virtue of the hemp-seed
cnarm. It bte 3'ou care for me ju^t a little
"Icare for you a great deal, Mr. Ambrose
but I cannot wear your ri g. You see that
clumsy, o.d thing ou my finger? Well, fiat
and my p-omise to my dying father bind mc
to another. PJea-e go away!"
She broke down utterly, and began to sob
like a child.
"But if you love me, Rose" began her
"WhetherIdoornot.it is all the same. I
tell you I'm plighted to another, and I'll brea*
my heart sooner than 111 break my promise
Then good bye, little Rose!"
He kissed her hand and turned down the
garden path. Rosie tied back to the kitcnen
sobbing fit to break ber heart.
"My dear, did \ou fetch the chips?" asked
"Ah, auntie, don't my heart's broken. I
wish were dead!" cried Rosie, bury
ing her face in the cushions of the corner arm
chair, and bursting iu'o a very storm of
Aunt Eunice smiled with infinite content as
she ci imped her pie.
'Don't ci j% Rosie. Wait till Ben gets here
and see what he saj-s!"
"But he's goreMr. Ambrose, I mean. lie's
gone, and shall never see him again! Oh
dear, if I wore dead!"
And all night long, while the Christmas
stars rose and went down, she tossed upon
hdrb"d, that cry noon cry upon her lips"I
wish I were'dead!"
the Christmas morning dawned, and
from steeple to steeple rang that sweet old
song, "Peace ou earth, and good will toward
A :nt Eunice stole softly into the darkened
ch mi ber.
"R sie, it is Christmas morning, and Ben
has come. You'll get u and see him, mv
She ob jed without a word, her young face
white and sorrow.worn.
Aunt Eunice robed her in her prettv crimson
dress with dainty laces at the throat and
sleeves then she brushed back the rippling
jellosv curls, and fastened them with a spray
"Come uow, Rosie, you. must p:o and speak
Aunt Eunice led hf down the stairs and to
the door of the old sitting-room.
"Go and bid him wtdcome, dear," she said,
unclosing the door, and pushing her gentlv'
One startled glance, one little gasping cry,
and Rosie was in Ben's arms.
"Can jou forgive me, Rosie?" he said, kiss
ing her pouting lips. "I was obliged to
deceive yon, liitle one, or you never would
have cared tor me You docarefor me a lit
tie, Rosie but I owe it all to the hemp seed."
"No, you don't, Ben," she answered with a
shy, fond glance "I'm sure I should have
liked you all the same if I had never strewn
Chen you'll take the ring now fir a Christ
mas gift, Rosie?"
Sue held up her dimpled finger. As he put
:t on. the bells clanged out again in honor of
the Christmas morn.
"Peace on earth and go*d will toward
men," ai Aunt Eunice, softly, as she threw
op.-n the shutters to let the sunshine in
"Ah! mv children, let us be grateful for this
And Rosie, resting her bright head on Ben's
arm, burst into a flood of happy tears.
The Christmas Tree.
A flash of light, a merry hum,
And peals of rippling laughter sweet,
The pattering of tiny feet,
And, lo, the little children come.
A sts-tely fir tree rears its head,
With stars and tapers all a blaze
And quivering in the fairy rays,
The glittering, loaded branches spread.
The childish eyes are sparking bright,
And the childish hearts withjojs o'erflow,
And on the birth-day long ago
They ponder with a grave delight.
Then to their gifts they turn once more,
And in the present sunshine lost,
They fear no future tempest-tossed,
But unto fairj7
No res, no fears, a happy time
Of laughter tears that cannot stay
An April dav, a year of May,
Pealed in and out with Chrutmas chime.
LOST AND FOUXD.
A Christmas Story.
THE WANDERING WOMAN.
Would it never cease? we asked, as we sat,
looking out from the window, and watched
the big, feathery flakes Duven here and
there in wild switls and eddic*, by the wind,
"thick as the motes that people the sun
beams," the snow cam-' down, obscuring the
air, obliteiatlng the ways, bluiring the sharp
outline of the trees, and mutlling all the
sounds ot out-door life. For nearly a week
there had been sharp liost. The ice- had lung
*ilh the healthy nius- of the skates. And
then, without thij
frobt breaking up, the snow
nad begun to ull on Sunday night it had
.-nowed all day on Mondaj', all Monday night,
and now, after oreavfast on Tuesday morn
ng, it was sno Aing as hard as ever. "Would
it never cease?" we asked.
It was nut eleven o'clock, and the train
wdh not due at Thomley till three. It was
calculated that if the road was i a-sable at
all, an hour would surely be enough for the
mice milen' drive. So till two o'clock there
was no event lo liil up the time save lunch
at least there was no event that we knew of.
Bj-and by, old Margaret came in and said
there was a poor woman in the kitchen whom
-he thought the dog Fury" had frightened
out of tier wits, because she could not speak
a word that sheMargaret-could under
stand. Some two or three of us went to see
our strange visitor.
We soon found that ihe was no more mad
than we were, only well night in despair, and
exhausted. She could not, ,speak one word
ot English, and we found our little stock of
Fiench, so neglected as it was, verj inade
quate lor corners rig- with her in her own
tongue. It svas enough for her, however, that
at last he had actually found some one who
had heard of France, and who knew there
svas such a, lausfiiaire as the Fiuueh.
The pool- woman's tale was tin Iler hus
band svas dead. Her two little gills svcie ju.st
old enough to work at the straw-plaiting, but
not old enough to walk all day witn her in
this terrible weather. Her money had been
just enough to pay their fare from Bn ming
hain to Dunstable-, and she had sent them oil
by rail that morning. At Dui.stable they
would find a good Eiduchwoman who would
take care of th^m. But she her-elf had not
money enough to ride, so had set out to walk
irom Birmingham to Dunstable, a distance ot
some hundred miles, loi which walK she had
allowed hoi self thiee dajs And nosv this
moi ninsr, to begin with, she found she had got
tour mile-s out ot her way. She could lind no
one to put her right, the snow was preventing
lier tioiu walking at halt the pace she had
hoped to walk, and &he could not in anv way
to her wortv at the time she had piomi ed
to be there. She was a strong, coaise-featur
ed woman evidently very poor, and not at all
entiinental. But she did not beg, either di
rectlj or indirectly. She was evidently care
ful to avoid it. She warmed herse oy the
lire, but when pressed also to sit down and eat
she said no, with many thanks, and begg-d us
to direct her on her way as well as we could,
s\ hieh sve did.
Before she went she took out he.- little well
worn purse and counted her small capital.
She askeu us what sve thought might be the
railway fare from Banbury to Leighton, and
we told her as near as we could guess. Then
she shut her purse and shook her head in a
way that said she must walk' it all. But being
pressul to t^ke some little help to makeup
the fare for this part of the join ney, she took
itnot svithout reluctance. Only once her
courage seemed to fail her. Wnen my sister's
little boy, a rosy little fellow, eighteen months
old, suddenly began ciying to go to her, she
look him into hi arms, kissed him, and cried
over him, thinking, no doubt, of her own lit
tie ernes and their loneliness at this happy
If Kitty had not been the very b"st little
mare that ever drew a svagon behind her, she
never would have got to rhornley station. It
had given up snosving and the sun was ?biti
ing a littie. So, as we thought ther. would
be room enough, coming back, I was tempted
to brave the weather and go down with Sam
to meet the train.
Fortifiity years there had b^en no such
snovv-jtorm kno vn in thi* part of the country.
As we drove alongit I should no rather call
it plowingthe corn licks sin wed like so
many tumuli. Es'en the highest hedgerows
could only be traced as long, shatp ridges,
for the snosv had drifted against them tilfall
svas buried ?a\ heie and there a tree. There
svas a mile of common land, newly enclosed,
svluch we had to cross, arid here wheie nil
svas level, and the fences were low, it was
-imply one great btretch of white, where to
keep the ro id was no easy matter.
Thanks mainly to the necessity of running
extra trains at Ci-nstmas time, our branch
line had with gieat difficulty been kept open
i'he trains wore running, and tlie train for
which we had to wait was not more than a
quarter ot an hour late.
Long before we saw them WG could hear
our j'oungtolks. They were chaffing the sta-
t'on-master,adv ising him to "Go to Jericho," to
"jump up," and to do other things which cer
tainly form no part of a station-master's ordi
Driving home svas hardly any easier a task
than driving out had been. For though
sve certainly had our osvn track to drive back
upon there was the added weight of five nesv
passengers, which even to Kitty was no joke
on such a day as this. The boys, however,
declared it splendid, and the more likelihood
there svas of our sticking fast, the mor- splen-
did they declared it, the more glad they
svere to jump out behind, and, under pretence
of pushing the wagon, roll each other in the
snow, and put snowballs down each other's
backs. On our way home we met two or
ilne^ other vehicles, and a1
could see that heavy as had been the snow, it
had not been heavv enough to keep people in
doors who had the excuses of hospitality for
Home at last, just as the shades of night
svere falling rapidls, andjustasthe firelight
beg.ai to redden the window panes. Then
the bustle of hand-shaking, kissing, uncoat
ing, and finger-svaiming. Then the first gen
eral inquiries about school, and 'e-sons, and
prizes, about skating and sliding, about home
and home trieuds. Alt these things were, oxer,
and the lads were sitting or standing lound
the fire, while Helen and I were busy with
our decorations, twisting wreaths of hody
round the pictures and mirrots, and prickin-
our fingers till they bled in doing so. SucU
denlyFiank called out to Helen: "But, aunt,
where's BertieI have not seen him?"
"Oh, hf's asleep," said Helon vou'll see
him and hear hun too b\-and-bv." Thin as
if reminded by this, she 1 It her noliy-wreaths
and ran upstairs to see if all the recent noise
had not waked him. In a minute she was
down again, and said: "He's not iu his cot
some of them have got him in the kitchen
run, Frank, and fetch him."
Soon Fr'iik was back again, and back
without the baby. Then the mother began
to run about the house searching, and to grow
uneasy One of the maids, however, had'been
sent some-half hour ago to a neighbor's, and
was expected back directly. It was presumed,
though no one had seen her take him, at
she had the baby with her. In a few minutes
she came inand knew nothing of baby Bertie.
Baby Bertie was eighteen months old. aud
hid just discontinued crawling and taken to
walking. His lit'le feet svere foiever patter
ing from room to room. His little hands Avere
forever laying hold of friendly skirts and coat
tails His tittle legs were forever can }*mg him
slowly up stairs and tumbling him down again
with much greater rapidity. Bertie, iu short,
had just got to that age tnat when in sight he
was in everybody's way. and when outof sight
he was a causa of constant terror lent he should
come to mischief. It was only when he was
asleep that he was considered safe, and that
his nurse-maid dared to turn her eyes from
him. And now he had effectually given her
and all of us the slip. At first, of course, we
all of us, except Helen, made light of the miss
ing babj-, being sure enough that he would be
found in some ridiculously safe corner. It is
a larjje house -with many" a spare room and
closet in which a child could hide, and it took
us some time to look through them all. But
through them all we looked not once, nor
tsvice, hut many times, without finding a trace
of him. Then through the barns, the cowr
houses, the stables, the very pigsties, and
every out-office of the place we went with
lanterns and candles, seeking Bertie aLd find
ing him not, calling Bertie and getting no
Then we set ourselves to seaich outside the
gates, holding our lanterns carefully to the
ground, and all at once in the deep clean snow
we saw the print of little feet amongst larger
feet. Away dewn the road we followed them,
alsvav-s tracing them easily amongst men's
feet and horses' feet for full two hundred
yards away from the house. There we found
the mark of where our little man had set him
self down to rest, and there, alas! we found
one of his little boots,\vith a sock in it. and
from that point forward could trace the little
footprints still, the mark of the boot und the
mark of the wee naked toes now side by s'.de.
Some fifty yards or so, howrevi
r, from where
we found the boot there were signs of his hav
ing wandered from the road into the deep
snosv there were signs of trampling there hy
other feet, and there all trace was lost. Not
another footmark could we find beyond this
point, nor any footmark that indicated that he
had turned to go home again It was clear
that our little man had first wandered outside
the gate, had been at once confused by 'he
snosv, and lost his way had wandered on and
ou, further away from home (sve fancied how
the poor little thing cried, heartbroken), and
had at last lain down oveicome with cold, and
And all this while the poor mother was
with us. But now at last bv main force she
had to be taken home, and I with her, while
the search was continued without us.
At every neighboring house our people
called, hoping to gain some clue, but gaining
none. At every house, as soon as it was
known what the trouble was which sentthe=e
white face, from neighbor Gordon's to break
in upon their hippy Christmas eve, some
stout-hearted fellow was ready toiiseand
join the searchers.
How wearisi-me was that search, and how
eagerly conducted or how much more weari
some the terrible waiting at home, to me, to
Helen, and to the aged men who had with
difficulty been kept at home, I need not tell.
God forbid that I should ever again be wit
ness to such agonizing distress as that of my
poor sister! She sat and swayed herself to and
iro, moaning low, und refused to be comfort
ed. Then she left us, and by-and-bv I found
her kneeling at her beo&idebetter, I hoped
for the tears which had come, but little .short
of crazed with grief.
And so the two weary hours-seeming a
whole ni ht ratherwore awav, and at last
we heard our friends at the gate again, talk
ing low, as if ill consultation, and then we
heard quie't "good-nio-hts," an i heard Kltty
lcdslowlv away, -and heard the footstep* of
two or three coming into the kitchen, quietly
and not bpeakiug to each other. And we
looked into eacn other's faces with dull, lead
en eyes, and no one rose to go out and ask the
It was like a house imo which death has
entered with the unwonted silence and quiet.
The cry dog shared in the gloom, and allowed
any one who liked to pa.-s and repass without
a bark or a motion, as if it knew that the
house had loetits 'reasuic, and that there was
no need to keep watch and guard any more.
Then came in my husband and Edwin.
Their news svas soon'old. They had driven
along the south road fo.- about an hour, till
they had overtaken a poor woman horn they
Questioned as to whom had passed her. It
nrovedto tie our poor Frenchwoman, aud as
Edwin talks French flue ntlv, they soon learnt
from her that no one had passed her who
could by any possibilitv know anything of the
child. The poor creature had to stay and rest
so often that she had made? hardly any pro-g
rcss on her journey, and was already long
ing for any place where she cou'd stay tne
night. She soon gtthered from Edwin that
the lost child was he whom she fondled
in the morning, and then sue foi got her osvn
care and eagerness to pursue her wav, and
begged to be taken back to help in the search.
So they had brou-ht hei with tlvru, and she
was wandering about alone with lantern,
riot content till she had looked for herself into
all the places where we had all looked before
The s-ad summary of it all was that no one
of all who had been Searching, had gained the
slightest traee ot noor. lost Bertie.
NAKROW EbOAI'E OF VMC iltjILX.OT.
1 ho the reader wdl never make one to
sit iu so sad a ciicle as that which gathered
about our fire when the seaich was stayed.
The bis Chiistmas t.ee stood in its pride.
decked with alt its fruit of tovs and presents
and loving inscriptions. Tabl groaned un
der the iolly Christmas cheer that waited for
You are not to suppose that search was
abandoned. We were sitting only while we
could decide what to do next. Not one of us
but felt it svou be more ei dm able to wan
der searching, even against hope, amongst
the snoss tin ough all the liviong night, than
to sit theie nursing our osvn sad thoughts.
We might lave sat in tin's way perhaps
half hourall of us together except Davie
and Frank, who were still out with the
Fienchwoman- when suddenly sve were star
tled by a loud scream of flight, repeated two
or three times, and each time checked, as it
teemed, by foice, and ace(,ini,anined by a
sharp, savage growl.
Rushing out to the door, whence the sound
came, we found uocr Madame Guillot (."orthi-i
was her name) on her bade, secureij' held
down by Fury, whom Davie and Frank were
trvingto remove, without success. FtirjV
heavy paw svas flung across her throat, and it
wus only when tie aked it for an instant that
Madame was able to sci earn. When she did
scicam, she was at once checked by the
dosvneoming of the heavy paw, accompjn
led by a teniblc grosvl and an admonitoiy
shaking of her ample pe tticoats. Beyond her
flight and her shaking, the good woman was
none the worse, and ot these 'he seemed to
think little, for the in-tant we had her on her
feet, she broke Irom us and rushed again into
tiie very jaws of Furj\ The dog, however, was
too many for her, and instantly had her on
her back as before But Helen had seen some
thing now. There it was indeed, the "little
shoe"the second red shoe, companion to the
one found in the lane. It was Jj ing just out
side Fury's kennel, and the light tell full up
on it from the lantern. in an in
stant Helen had in her hand, ?nd found that
not only was it tne missing shoe but that one
of the ssing feet was inside itnay, that
one of the missing legs was attached to the
loot, and the whole of the rest of the missing
body attached'to the leg! By the leg, fact,
the missing Bertie was dragged out, covered
with straw, busily tubbing liis ejes with his
little fists, and just waking up from a very
sound sleep in ss'hich he had been indulging
in Fun's apaitment. Fury, seeing that he had
lost his ward, at once hbu-Ued Madam Guil
lot of his osvn accord, and pushing I is bi
nose in amongst us, began to assist Bertie to
wake, by vigorously licking his face, till Hei
en, snatching him up, lushed with him into
We, looking into the kennel, saw where he
had made his little nest. It was in the corner,
completely out of sight, and sheltered from
the win i. He had nestled into, the cl-an
straw with which Fury is always well supplied,
andthen it was pretty clear that Fury had lain
down beside him, if not upon him. and hal
cuddled him up as warmly as if he had been
in his mother's arms. We understood
now -why tlie dog had refused, to out and
search with u, and why ho had barked so
little all thr ugh the night.
It was not so easy to understand now the
child had got back and got into the kennel,
without leavino-a trace of a returning foot
step. And this mystery was not cleared up
to us till next day. The explanation, howev
er wac simple enough, and might as well be
given atonce. A schoolboy had met him, wand
reing away, and knowing him, had lifted him
up and carried him home, had been afraid to
nass the dog, and so had set him down to run
in at the open kitchen door Bertie, instead ot
doing 60, had turned in at Fury's door, which
happened to be nearest, acd had instantly
gone to sleep, while the school boy had posted
off to a village some few miies away.
It was in some respects almost as touching
to see the mother's joy as it bad been to see
her sorrow For was not Bertie her one child,
and she a widow? and what more could I say
to tell you tnat both joy and sorrow were, keen
est that can thrill this mortal body. Let me
drop the veil.
Madam Guillot spent the Christmas day
with us, and on the following morning we
drove her down to Thornley station, and saw
her off with a through ticket in her pocket
BT SIB WALTER SCOTT.
The fire with well-dried logs supplied,
Went roaring up the chimney wide
The bufce hari-ta.ble'= oaken, face,
Seruobtd till it shone, the day to grace,
Bore then upon its massive board
No mark to part the squire and lord.
Then the grim boar's head frowned on hiZt.
Crested with bays and rosemarv.
Th wassail round in good brown bowls
Garnished with ro ibms, blithely tht*owls,'
There the huge sirloin reeks hard bv
Plum-porridge stocd. and Christmas-pie.
JOHN HOLLAND'S 3IEERY CHRIST-
The day before Christmas every store win
dow was wreathed in green, eyerv rare and
beautiful thing exposed to tempt the passer
by was labeled "Christmas gift" Esen the
corner groceri.-s and baker shops had green
boughs and a generous display of ginger
bread horses aud white-sugar nearts en/iched
with gut beading, and impossible pink fowls,
popularly supposed to be aovs '1 here were
mvriads of dulls and hundreds of sltd* with
names taking in the whole animal kingdom
The streets were crowded with fur-clad smil
ing women, who were making the kst select
ions of pretty things with which to swell out
the fair proportions of many little stockings.
Johu Holland, leaving his offlee earlier than
usual, made his way slosvlv through these
waves of happy womanhood, can-jing ht.?
aching head a little forward, watching~with
sullen eyes the joy about him, until the tide of
bitterness in his hea rose high, andioiced
from his lips a curse on the morrow that
wou'd bring so much happiness to others and
so much misery to him. A lonely man was
John Holland, over whose dead past stood no
monumental marble with name and date
thereon--a weary man by his drooping shoul
ders ard uncertain gaitan unhappy "man bs
the wistful look that crept now and then into
his sullen eyes. And so in wcaiv, lonclv
fashion he walked on, leaving the" city fai
behind, and coming at last upon a countrv
road that wound its rough, auow-powdtrcd
length through shrubby hollows atm up the
hills between ie-ailess gra^-ba^k trees. Xosv
andthen a thin sheet of of ieeciaeked beneath
his feethe did not hear it above his head,
close to the soft, gray clouds, fat, inky cross
sailed round and round, casting companion
ablyhe oid not heed them while heie and
there the bare, brown lingers of some shuib
or tree held out to him a bunch of scarlet
berries, which he did not see. All the grajs
nd browns, touchi here and there with grec
andcarlet, appealed to him in vain. To
monovv svas Ci.ristmas Day. He stood aloi
he made no one's happiness thercfoie to
him the world cou'd no, be fair. He remem-
bored Low, not man\ jears before, liw and hw
wire stole tip-toe through the house, to cram
with candies and many wonderoub toj-s the
little wooh stockings hanging near the tire.
He remembered hosv the Christmas sunlight"
striking through the frosted window pane,
turned into burnished gold the luddy locks of
their strudy baby boy and now he stumbled
up the hill-side, blind with rage and pain.
Now two mounds of chill, cold earth
held all that made a dear and
precious thing to him. At the top of
the hill he paused involuntarily to regain his
breath. Up there the wind blew keenly, the
ghastly gleam of iee eould bjseen in the ns--
er winding far below. The wood was dark
ened by many slemJei pines and stunted hem
lock tieesa wintry sceneand Holland
thrust his hands deep in his rockets and turn
ed to reti ace his a'cp-, when a sound hrokt
the silence all about ht'i.asound that set ins
heart a throbbing, a sound that dresv his f.-c-t
Irom the beaten road and senl them striding
tin ough the dead brown leaves until tl ey
brought him to the veiy spot wheie little
Kuth sat sob!nng
A strange place to find a child, et there sh
s9t, flat on the ground, her ivell-v.orn, copper
toed shoes btretched out brfoVo her, ne little
hand doubled under her arm, as a bird drafts
its foot under its wing, the other hand grasp
ing with all its childish might a branch of one
of the many small hemlock tiees growing
about her So mottled with cold were her iuce~
her hands, and her litt bare knees, she might
have passed for a figure carved in good old
Jehu Holland's sudden appearance did no*
staitle IK in the least. She seemed to accept
him as one accepts things in dreams, without
surprise or fear.
'What is the matter?" he asked.
flow strange the childish "voice sounded up
there in that chill, bleak ace!
"What are you doing here?"
"Poor baby!" thought John Holland, "you
are learning the great lesson early. I bho'uld
like to know the brute who left' you sitting
here while he or she drinks or gossips in the
"Who are j-ou waiting for, child*"
The chill, tear-stained little face broke into
smiics as she whi pored:
'Tm waiting for Santa Glaus.''
The answer smote him with astor ishnynt.
As boy he had heard much or the genialold
man for whom littl.. Ruth was wa-ting, but
he had never heard of his paying a vi-it
or transacting any business in the day time.
So he told her but she, lootcing sonowfiulj
"Ye, I knows he goes down the chimnejs
at night. Aunty sajs so, and Santa Claiis
muHt come here to-day to get his trees."
To get his trees V" echoed IIol a d, -itting
down the side of that bit of childish grav
*'Wny, yes his trees like thi*, you know,"
and after a slow, ncmb sort of search for
something in the depths of her pocket, her
cob: little hand drew out a leaf of a child's
story book, torn and soiled, but bearing
one sid a highly-colored picture of the good
'There," she continued, eagerly, "sec the
tree h". has on his arm they don't .,'row in
ttlic i its see, he must come up here to get
"1 undeisknd b-it why wait here in the
cold for him when to-night he wilt come
down j'our chimney with all soits of pretty
"But he won't come he .'OPS not know the
jhouse is here he thinks all the boys and girls
lve dowi. there in the city so whenhecomes
to get this tree I'm going to say, Vlease Santa
Claus, I live here on the hill. Aunty say I'm
pretty good. Can't I have a doll baby and a
John Ho'land's voice was very tender whpn
he spoke again to ask her name, and then he
lilted her to her feet and said:
"I'll tell you what we wilt do, Ruth. You
go home before Aunty nissesyou aud thinks
you are lost, and I'll stay here and watch for
She shook h^r head.
"You'll get tired and go awav."
'No, I won't I'll wait until I see him
"Truly?" "Truly." Lit le Ruth raised her face antl Holland
kissi her baby mouth.
"Wheieflo vou live, child?"
"Only a little wty*, bie-k in the woods
th^re is the path." And running across the
dead leaves she struck into a famt, narrow
path, and folio-sing it disippeared be-hind the
t-ees Holland svdtthed her out of sight,
then tying his handkerchief to the top branch
of that tree wnich Ruth had selected as tin
very one Santa Claus most wanted, turned
his face cityward ani strode dosvn the hill.
Low down in the west he n..tic a lng
golen rift in t'ie dull rra s-y ancl it evinced
and broadened until the golden glory burst it
bonds and flooded all the scenes with wintrv
urilight. Even so had the chil tih faith of
little Kuth forced its way through clouds of
loneliness and grief to fill his heirt with sun
light. More than one woman smtled that
night at John Holland as he stood in a crowd
cd store, examining with supernatural gravity
dolls dressed a"d undressed. A light v/agori
carried him aud his books and toys out from
the city and up the woody hill to iiuth's poor
home. Alter peeling into the window like
an amiable burglar he summoned Ruth's
aunt. A few words outside the door, a gentle
little laugh, a tear o/ two, great rustling of
paper, and then the door was elost-d, and Hol
land, whistling softly to himself, mad-his
way to the tree from" which Whved a white
handkerchief,and, after much hacking.pulling
and digging, succeeded in removing it. Driv
ing home under the starry sky gieat tear*
filled his eyes as he thought
of "the wife and baby boy
gone before there wss no cutse on his lips
only a tremulous smile, as he thought of the
joyous av akening for little Ruth to-morrow
Next day John Holland gave a dinner: there
were four at the table -Holland himself, Ruth,
Ruth'a aunt, and Ruth's doll Rosey, who ate
notning, v!tt looked lovely and smiled indefati
gably It would be hard to tell how many
times Ruth kid her doll on Holland's knee
wnere upon her waxy eyelids inst.nntlv svouiu
close and she fell into a most profound sleep.
1 would be harder still to'tell how ea^erlv she
questioned him as to vhe exact appearance or
banta Glaus when he came for that treethe
very tree bhe sat beside when she was wait
And John Holland telling stories to the lit
tle Ku-h hugging her precious Koscv, had in
deed a Merry Christmas, for on making
hapniness of anotner he had found his
Clara Morris, in If. Y. Graphic
AConple of Strange Instances.
One winter evening, about fifty years
ago, a pe^st chaise, with a single gentle
man inside it, drove up to the iittle inn
on the Pentland Frit h, in the north (f
Scotland, where passengeas who were go
ing to cross to the Orkneys usually spent
the niyht. The gentleman, whom we
will call Mr. Mac T., was the owner of a
large estate, and an old house which had
belonged to his 1 amity for hundred? of
years, in the Mainland, or chief of the
Orkney isla-ds, and was now about to
visit his property. Tt was a blustering
stormy night, but that only made more
pleasant the cigar and the glass of whis
key, und the crackiiug wood fire by
which Mac T. sat chatting with the land
lord, who wis an old frbnd both of his
father and hniise.f, and who was
proud of enti-rrainin^ the "young laird."
as he called Liu!, with his wildes' tales ot
adventure on the sea. They did not, how
ever, sit late, for the Orkney packet -saiieJ
very early in the morning, and Mac
soon found himself in his cosy, well-ap
pointed dttle bedroom. The wiuu wiis
chantk-g a grand Ber erker melody, ace
the sea was roarinir a deep bass ac
companimen t. Mac T. loved those sounds
for they had oft^n been the Inllaby oi
his childhood, and soon fed as'.' .p.
For some hours, he sleot without on
image or a thought reaching bis mind
but at length, when ns morning was
glimmering gray in tin- ca^t, a strange
dre am came to xronide him. He drea mt
that he was in the ancient bacquetinjj
uali of his ola house in th** Mainland sil
ting at the head of a very long table. The
oanqueting-hall wus now in reality al
most a ruin, but in Lis dream Mac T.
siw it hung with tapestry and blazmg
-wttti fi Irundred. lights. The tall -wa-
AOll filLd on both kides, and he thought
lie glanced curiously down its lenothTto
see who bis guests were. As he looked
he shuddered in his dream. Those who
sat at table with him were all dead an
'cestors for many generations back.
knew their laces and dresses well fiom
Mieir portraits in the picture gallery.
Next to him sat his own father, who had
died about a year beiore. And at tlu
bottom ot the table sat a fair-haired man
in a dress of skins, who was a Norse chief
tain, the founder of the faaiiiy. It seem
ed to him that he sat for some minutoi a3
if spell-bound, while tiie spectres mur
mured togi tr.er in low, hollow tones. At
length they ail ro?e, and s'.owly, one by
one, in turn, let the hall. But before
each one paused at the door,
and turning, raided hio hand in a warn
ing altitude, fixed his eyes on Mac T.,
and sa:d, in a de-p voice, The word "Be-
"The packet- sturts iu twenty minutes
air,'' cried a loud voice at the door, rous
ing Mao sudd, nly from sleep. n
lused at rirbt. jet sr.on reinc mbeiing
where ho was, he sprang cut of bed and
bean hurriedly to dress himself. Bern:'
a bad sailor, his first glance was natural
ly enough at ihe sea, close to whbh the
inn stood. The wind had risen 'n the
night. The waves thunoered on tlu
-hore, anu the little Orkney packet was
tossed up and down like a limpet shell.
A.s he gz-d, his strange dream rose up
with sudden distinctness before Mac T's
minrl. lie was infected with a good deoi
of thoiongh Scotch .sum ration. Brides,
he did not much like the looks of't'iesea,
and so he resolved not to go till tomor
row. That day the Orkney packet was
tost vvith every man on board, and Mac T.
and his little wite, who w.*s leit at home
with the babi-s ha 1 to thank that warn
i ng dream for his life.
The other instance we have to tell
quite as singular Many jears ago the
Kev Mr. N held a -ma living in the
wndest pprt of West demi rset. The par
ish church stu'j on a bleak hillshic, and
Mr. N who wa- a oacti^lor, lodged in
the farm-house close to it. Among hi=
small fiock there v\as no one in whom the
clergviuan took more interest than in
Mary ihe pretty daughter of the farmer, his
landlord. When Mary was about twen
ty, Mr. N was much troubled by finding
that th nad fanned an attachment WIM
Jack To"-u.-end, the cle-7ere=t workuim
and the most worthless fellow on the
One autumn night the clergyman
dreamed that Mary stood at his bedside,
and cried out in an imploring voice,
"Come out on to the hillside!'' The im
pression left on his mind on waking was
so distinct that, it he had not known the
door was locked so that no one could en
ter the room, he would have thought
Mary must in reality have been there.
Feeling, however, sure that it was only a
a dream, he composed himself once more
to sleep. But scarcely had he closed his
eyes when Mary was again there, calling
to him to come out on to the hillside.
Seven several times he tiied to sleep, and
(even timesthe pbantcm came back, al
ways with the same civ.
At length, mastered by an almo?t irre
sistible impulse, he rose, dre--ed himse'f,
and went out on the hill He waiked
some distance, but couU see nothi ng ex
cept the heather beds waving in the
mooniight: could htar nothing but a dis
tant sheep-bell tinkliDg softly, and the
stream warbling below in the valley,
lie was just going back, when suddenly
a shrid cry reached him, seeming to
come from a neighboring combe. Hurry
ing in that direction, he saw at the hot
torn of the coin be t.vo fignn those of a
man and a woman, apparently struggling
wit'i eacb. ber. As he drev? nrt.i the
man ran away and the woman fell to the
ground. VVhen he came up he found tha"
it was Mary. She bad only faintf-d, and
lie soon brought her to herself. Then by
degrees she confessed to him that her
lover had persua'-ledher to meet him that
night in the comb", brinainsf with her
a small sum of money which she had
saved from early childhood by laying by
iittle gifts of lriends and relations, and
which, according to the custom common
among her class in that day, shb had
ke pt in an old stocking instead of the
oank. Townsend bad promised to elope
with her, and marry her. and as she
loved him, and ber lather would not al
low the match, she had consented to go.
But when he met her, had tiied to rob
tier of her niney She had resisted, and
struggled with him, and just then the
clergymen had come up, an*! the villain
had run away. After chat night Mr. N
was a oeliever in the providential nature
Are We to Have a New Totatee
Correspondence from Washington
states that several months a S GJB. Le
Duc, the commissioner ot" ag Tien Itare wa*
toia oy a gentleman who had resided for
some years in Peru that a very superior
yaiic tj ot the Irish potato was produced
the mountainous regions i^ing imme
diately oack of Lima, some seventy or
e.enty miles from the coast, fie Ascribed
these potatoes as be.ng of medium size,
round ot a bright golden color when
cooked, and ot a delicious fltvi.r very
different from that of any variety of
potato known in this country. Be sa id
he -waaot thwe*opinione that thev mit be
cultivated to advantage in -his country.
of th opinion tha^th they
iniffht be cultivated to adv^ ,ge in this
country, because, although produced in
tne tropics, the great elevation at which
they were grown. T.oOO to 1",000 feet
^bove the level of the sea, mad- the cli
nitte equal to that of the temp, rate zones,
tne gentleman spoke so high!v of these
potatoes and expatiated mon the^r
appearance and flavor in s.'ch rlrw
ibg terms that Gen. Le Due btcamc^con
v-inccd thu they weieof a k'uu hitherto
unknown to American acucjttvrisis, and
that it they could be introduced into' xhis
country they would be a great and valu
able acqusition. Tne Kuwle1g also
ttra: the potato is indigenous to Peru and
Chili, ancl tfcut the rest of the world haa
been originally supplied from these coun
tries, was a further inducement to him to
believe that an experiment in this direc
tum would be successtu'. took steps
lo secure a supply, ana with that object
addr ssed a enniuiumoation o the United
States consul at (Jal'mo, reipeviag that
unctionary to procur a sivtii -.'at qnan
cityand turwatd thtm to at Wash
ington by rets. ie c. .n- ul uromotly
complied v.ith his r^utest. and a
d,us ago Gen. Le Due recuvod two
r*tes of the ,.ota:oes ii to:-jnbly fair
mdition, and c.V.-.ned fnvi them
A Kmt two and a halt bn.sl.clh ci sound
seed pota (v-.farlv bnst'ie'r with eyes,
md enough ru furnish see-i lor full and
fair ex penmen's to be mad-j. lie has al
ready given out a few i, p'yn'ing in
California. Tiie reinab iter will he care
fully preserv. until next spring, when
ttiey wiii De d!.xt:ibu'ed amour careful
and com} eten: faimc is dill" n"nt ot.vtea.
In order to be sure thnt tbe pot.rocs re
ceived were, the same which the pjntle
m-a tia.a -pkt of, Ot n. Le Du mv.te'J.
hint to go to the department and induct
them. lie di i o, and alter selecting thrt
of the bt.it, had tie h-iied in the
laboratory When hi- ken pen they
were found to be ol* the kim" he had
described. They were of a de. yellow
collor and delicious ii -\o cr/iiely differ
ent from that of any potato ever .ecn by
any of the gentlemen pieM."it, and all
agree th-.t if they cou'd be nvv in this
country it woukl undoubtedly be a great
Planets* hi November.
Some scientific jounrils hiv been liv
ing lately the motions of the nlanets each
month, and now the Oil City Jkrrick
starts into the busines v,i:h the following
During the month Jupiter remains an
evening star. Hem le Jipplie itinn pome
time ago to be appoinn on the morning
tores, v-hei the pay 13 better, but owing
to the hard times was deenu- i best to
smike no change^. He reaches tl meri-
di..u about 7 o'clc and goes olf watch
at precisely 12 o'clock, midnight.
.Mercury's engagement a a morni ng
star terminates on the 24th, vvien it is
presumed,he will oo inwt winter quarters,
possibly renting himself out for a ther
Venus is chi.-fe.it amo ng the morning
stars, and altogcthi lovely. She rises
about hulf-p-ist 4, takes a bath, walks
out ior htilf tin hour, and breakfasts on
ham ana cgss. As c*t wt-aiher ap
roaches she will not r:se po early, and
towards the end of the mondi will not be
vi.-ibleuntil nearly o'clock. Venus is in
good condition, a tnfl" thin in flesh, per
haps, but with no accidr nt it is though!
*-he will reduce her last veer's record.
.She is now traveling towards the t-un at
tne rate ol scvor.il minions miles a min
Uranus positively refu* to be ?een in
October except on -pci.il business. Of
ri hours frcm'Ja in. to 4 :i m. Pu ll
the night -!1.
Neptune is 2,700,000.000 im'es Irom
the c-un, but will prooabiy lie compelle
to move up closer on account of the high
price of coal. is running a fishing
bmack, and occasion uiy makes* .i tem
pt r.mce speech, advot atiug halt water ag
M.irs is numb-.r nmon t-:e morLing
^taif, pnd gets down town about half-pa 3
5, breakfibt two hours lt.ter. lie weurs
his hair cut close to the tCdlp, carries a
brace of pistols and several u^ly knive3,
said is in favor of declaring war against
Mexico. The slightest reference to
Eluyea' peace policy with the Indiana
throws him into a paroxism of i age. lie
is now drawing a pension ot $7 a month
from the Government.
Saturu during the month will be the
most interesting of all the planets.
is on duty all night and will be uutil af
ter tne November election rises
about 5 in the afternoon, takes a sun
bath, exerci-es on the hoiizsnta) bar,
wrestles with a health-lift, ano tends the
paper*. Adter a liidit breahfast he car
ries in the coal, drives up
cracks th kindling for nr
Grabbing and (jambling.
"And there are your grab bagis30ur
rab-oags! I tell jou thtre is to much of
this. Your fairs and jour b-izns won't
do, and your voting, your citing oi bal
lots for the mo-t pu'ar man or the
most popular womm, )Uot tie! pi rig along
their vanity. I tell you it grievvs the spir
it, 11 offends God. They ve got fco far now
that tor twenty-five cents young men can
come in and kiss the hanoi-oniest woman
in the rccm. Think of ,ius! Look at the
church lotteries jioix.fr on in New work.
Be,lre God I would rather preach in any
barn or the most miserable hovel earth,
than within the walls ot a churcn paid for
in such awav- What is the rte of going to
a gambling den when jou can have a
game of grab with a lady lor partner?"
Of church choirs which are net composed
of Christians he disapprove^ in the same
emphatic way '-I tell you it's about ti me
you stopp ed hiring ungodly men and un
godly women to &iDg in your cburch
choirs, just because they happen to have
good voices. You f-mile. I tell you it's
no smiling matter. You ought to blush
with shame that's what you ought to do.
And there is such a thing as baviDg an
organist who gets drunk, and who can 't
play but be must go back every tow and
then and take a drink to refresh him."
Ladies of luxuries ta*.te and well-fined
purses are indulging this s-eason in aw
silk stockings in all the ta8hionable,dark,
bright and delicate colors.