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rW 152 THE INDIAN ADVOCATE are broken, their springs are dried up, their cabins are in the dust. Their council fire has long since gone out on the shore.and their war cry is fast dying to the untrodden West. Slowly and sadly they climb the distant mountains, and read their doom in the setting sun. They are shrinking before the mighty tide which is pressing them away, they must soon hear the roar of the last wave, which will settle over them forever." I heard a rare story the other day of a good bishop who was visiting an outlying portion of his diocese for the' pur pose of confirming some of the rising generation, The pas tor had ranged the brave little band in a line and the bishop after asking a few leading questions, requested a little gill to state the definition of matrimony. And with hands folded, eyes half closed, and a generally modest mien, the little one rapidly reeled off the startling announcement that "matri mony is a state of terrible torment which those who enter it are compelled to undergo as a partial punishment for their sins and in order to prepare them for a brighter and better world." The pastor who had taken great pains to prepare his class, was greatly annoyed at this blunder, and sharply said: "No, no, Katie, that is not marriage at all, that is pur gatory." "Leave her alone, Father James," said the bishop, 'with a meaning smile: "leave little Katie alone. What do you or I know about it?" The young heir to the family estates had slipped away for a spin in his automobile. Enter his mother. ("Jacobs," she said, "I expected to find Clarence here at his lessons. Has he gone out with his tutor?" "Yes, ma'am," answered the butler, with a stately bow. "He has gone out with his tooter." &