Decatur Democrat, Volume 38, Number 32, Decatur, Adams County, 26 October 1894 — Page 8

f /blb > •* z jl 1 ® c jg?y §U [K'fffiSSPUf * ljEf/\, 1 CHAPTER I Continued. Cock a “Glengary” on one side over Jerry’s golden curls, tuck them out of view, and none could have wished for a bonnier Highland laddie. She possessed the blue, bright eye and saucy lip of every jaunty ancestor. She couid whistle, she could stamp, sho could featly execute more than one step of the sword-dance and shantreuse; she could go through the Highland fling to admiration. It was her sport to respond in the wildest gutteral Gaelic now and again to her mystified, naif-indignant relative, and she was seldom seen without a piece of bogmyrtle—the badge of her clan—in the bosom of her frock. For her looks, her dress, her speech, or her manners, care she had none, v It might have been from an innate sense of superiority, it might have been irom sheer pride of birth or certainty of position, it might have been from the mere heedlessness of fifteen—but certain it is that from whatever source it sprung, no cottage maiden on the lonely moorland thought less, or indeed thought as litt’e, about the effect she produced on those around her, as did this wild and winsome Geraldine of Inchmarew. The roughest plaid, the wrap most soiled and stained and worn by weather, suited her better than any finery procured from fashionable warehouses; and when compelled to array herself in the latter one day in the and present something of a suitable appearance at the parish kirk, truth compels us to own that the transformed and elegant young heiress was usually sulky, and always miserable. Ensconded in the grand old family pew, she would fidget Irom sidetoside, after the fashion of a restive colt newly caught and ill at ease. She would kick her smart toes against the boards in front until the delicate French kid would all be worn and shabby, to be regarded by its owner w’th contemptuous disparagement and mental reference to her own dear, delightful, clamping hobnails at home. She would lean back and crush her fine Leghorn hat—well aware that she was doing so—until notall the efforts of her long-suffering maid could restore its normal shape or freshness. She would pull off and on her many-but-toned gloves, and spread and twist her fingers in them. She would shrug her shoulders in her pretty cape, as if it were an annoyance and a restraint upon her movements. As for her frock itself, it would be crumpled and creased in every possible direction; and it was only by dint of having a freshly-crimped and starched muslin or cambric ready for her to put on every Sunday morning that the irrepressible young lady of the manor could be rendered presentable at all. And yet—and yet—grandmamma saw through it all. With prophetic vision she beheld, through the vista of a few brief years, the hour of triumph when her darling should be proclaimed peerless among beauties, fairest among the fair. She could afford to wait. A faint . remonstrance, bravely started, but ending in thin air, as already described above, was, indeed, from time to tirtie essayed; but the annoyance would be transient, the doubt or fear momentary, while the abiding, deep rooted conviction of her heart was, that there was but one created being matchless in the world, and that one was Geraldine. CHAPTER IL BY THE MOUNTAIN BURN. “Thy gentlest sweep, and boldest leap. Thy rough rock walls, and plunging falls, j Thy foam-bells ringing free; Thy pools and thy shallows, thy sun-woven shadows. Thy startles and sallies, thy fern-glades and valleys. Were early known to me." Very well aware was the observant young damsel that this was the case; and, being so it said something for her that she was neither inordinately selfish, nor exacting, nor altogether insubordinate. She would not vex granny—if she could help it. She would not disregard granny’s hours and comforts —if she remembered them. She would not defy granny —if she could get round her in any way. In her heart she had a great affection—not altogether unmingled with that pity which lies between love and contempt—for the poor dear who could, no longer run and jump and race all over the place, gallop on bare-backed ponies, pull herself about in the small boat, and fish in the mountain streams, as no doubt granny had done in years gone by. Poor granny! She could have but few pleasures now, and those of a very tame kind. It must be terrible to be only able to jog along at a languid pace upon the broad back of stiff old Sandy. (Granny was, in reality, a very vigorous dame of her years, and prided herself upon the manner in which she mounted her sturdy Shetland pony, and setoff for a rough hill ride.) But Jerry would stand sorrowfully by and see, and be almost ashamed of the fine spring with which she alit upon her own little, saddle afterwards. Worse still must it be for her poor grandmother, she thought, to have to sit idly in the stern of their pretty sailing boat, ensconced in rue's and wraps, and taking no part in the hauling-in or letting-out of the sheet, the tacking, and the other maneuvers with which the men were proud to have their little lady think she was rendering assistance. Poor granny, moreover, had to stay at home whenever it was wet and misty outside. Now nothing was more exhilarating in Jerry’s eyes than being out and abroad in a soaking, blinding Arizile, swept in gusts across ths moor-

lands, or flying up from the sea-loch, with a dash of salt spray about it that could be tasted on your lips afterwards. It was delicious to shake out her long wet locks to dry in the sun that , would by-and-by peep out. And then ’ what shining and glistening of crag and corrie, what chirping of rejoicing birds, what freshness of tree and leaf, and, above all, what thundering from the hidden waterfalls which abound on the moors of Inchmarew! Those falls were pretty well known to her—in especial those belonging to her own l grounds, and whoso every turn and winding, pool qnd shallow, she had been acquainted with from early years. Poor old granny could never see, never got near enough even to guess at the half of this treasure of beauty . and delight. ’ In consequence, granny was supposed • to sujfey such loss as rendered her an • object Os very real compassion and forbearance; and in Jjer tender moments > the child would even look with satis- , faction on the good time for granny , which was one day to come, when, in order to give her some enjoyment such as sho could appreciate and partake of, 1 she. Jerry, would sacrifice herself in so far as to follow her poor dear in and out ofsi whole dreadful London season. Fes, she meant to do that, to-go through even with that for her poor dear’s sake—granny was always her ‘•poor dear” when in these moods — and, however hateful and wearisome the whole thing might be, granny should never know how much it cost her. The resolution helped to salve the willful young conscience many a time when Jerry had been more than usually self-assertive and independent. < She was going to be good by-ahd-by, and for the present she was going to be—let alone. That, at any rate, was too often the practical outcome of a remorseful tit With something of the kind in her mind on the present occasion, the litflsherwoman now ran merrily off down to the bridge, where Donald waited, and was eagerly hailed by that expectant knight “Haste ye, haste ve, Miss Jerry,” cried he. “We arena’ a thocht ower sune The burnie’s doon eneugh, and it’ll be aye gang’n’ loWer yet. Anu the sun—it wull no’ be rhe sun that we want—and the sun he will be out himsel’ directly,” pointing as he spoke to , gleams of light here and there breaking outon every side. Haste ye.then!” exhorted the ragged urchin ardently; and seizing the basket, and slinging it across his shouldersc, while his young mistress with equal dispatch took from him her rod, the two suddenly disappeared from the bridge and plunged into the recesses of the wood, which at this point approached nearer the Castle grounds than at any other. Breath was precipus, and neither wasted it in words. A quarter of an hour’s hurried climb brought them to the side of the burn, which could be heard ever more and more distincty roaring in its tumulous depths; but, though brief, the transit was rough enough to have soaked and torn any less durable covering than that donned by the prudent little maid, who now fearlessly followed her pioneer over mossy rock and quagmire, until each had slid down the slimy bank, and found themselves in uhe hollow, beneath a swollen and bellowing waterfall. They were not too late. The waters had barely subsided sufficiently for sport, as their anxic us. critical eyes assured them. A sharp point which should prajfect from the heart of the fall, when the time to fish the pool beneath had arrived, was jnst putting out its nose,* and before that had been done, the stream would have been too full. > Donald nodded in silent ecstasyspeech would have been thrown away. Both, however, understood to move a little lower down, to where the black depth showed signs of yielding and flowing out in a shallower current towards its ocean bed, and then almost simultaneously, each tjirew a line. Fortune was on their side. At the very first cast a greedy trout of lusty proportions and in excellent humor, as though as ready to be caught as the fair angler was to catch him, sportively hooked himself on to Jerry’s was landed in a thrice. He was but the earnest ot the fun to follow. It was hardly fishing; it seemed all loading, all basketing, all rejoicing, and mute comparing. | At length, however, the little girl’s tongue could keep silence no longer, : and at an uhlucky moment, for she had I worked her way to some slight distance from the lad, she let it go. She : just landed a fine one. “Look, look at this, Donald.” Donald at the moment drew carefully on to the rocks its counterpart. “Why, yours is still bigger. Oh, I say, isn’t it splendid?” shouted his enchanted companion. “Isn’t it glorious? • Isn’t it ?” i “What’s your wull?” i He thought she had something to say, something for him to do, or to go for. “Isn’t it glcrious?” in rising accents. 1 “Ech?” Only those who know the 1 shrill Highland screech can interpret that “Ech?” whose feeble Southron ; meaning would be “Eh?” “Ech?” ' screeched the urchin, wrinkling up his small, shrewd physiognomy, and put- » ting his hand behind hie ear, the bet- > ter to hear and comprehend. r “Nothing-nothin,” impatiently. “I > only said how sple'ndid it was, and wjiat i beauties they are,” bawled Miss Jerry • back, unable woman-like to resist the i last word. I “E-c-h? ’ again, at the extreme pitch j of Donald’s little yelling voice. i “Oh, what’s the use of talking 9” and - Jerry stamped and frowned. “Never t mind-nevef mind, Isay. Nothing—j nothing—nothing,’ as the . grinning, i wrinkled, inquiring face was still - stretched out for the i nformatioh which r the noise of the waters drowned, t “Stupid boy,” added she, sotto' voce, a “hear that, if you can! Oh, the idiot, i he is actually coming over the rock to y me. Oh, Donald, you iaiot, stop where you are! Go back-go back-I don’t y want you. Go back, .1 say—back — y back!” waving a peremptory hand. - “Go—back!” in a last supreme effort. j “Can I tell the boy anything?” in- ; quired a voice almost in her ear. gi Bo •tartllng was the gentle sound.

that the effect produced upon, • n vone thus taken at unaware# might have been—nav, must have been,. • pated; but on Geraldine thia effect was intensified from the- faat W mt, in spite of her hardihood and. eurljj training, she was Usually susceptfibU'l o anything of the kind, and in eenseq uenue was strictly guarded from the « hance of its occurring. _ It could, therefore, be no inm ate or Inchmarew, who, plainly with, 1 1 e intention of causing surprise, has I thus crept up behind, and now a imost breathed in her ear. On the suAace, the interforena i was, of course, pardonable. A civil i* Q ulr y and offer to help, when it ano eared that two of a party were desire ms of communicating with each other , and wore unable to do so, could haix ily be cavilled at; and perhaps the perpetrator of the jest was n ot gres tly to Plame, in that when the c atraorc inary and grotesque figure he h ad afidi ossed whirled round upon him w itha.£ -'Sture tnat sent her fishing-rod flyiuS over the rocky promontory, anr I a ‘«’y t,iat rose above the raging of the he merely laughed aloud, and that in her very face. But he cr ittEht her by the arm nevertheless, 1 w her * oot slipped, and the place was mot one t 0 slip in. “What, you young shaver ’ s fro eried as he did so, “what, I made you jump, did I-eh? By George! i I* * K*rii catching sight of her face and of a wavy lock around her thro “It’s a girl, by all that’s wonderfu !■ And a rare pretty girl, too. Well, my lassie, come, come,” as a burst of tears now succeeded the first shock of alarm. “Come, come.’’continued the stranger, patting her on the shoulder, and still laughing at the success of 1 lis trick, “no need for all this din. I w ould not have done it if I had known y ou were a girl; but after all,*there's no harm done. I only meant to make y ou jump. And I owed you one for being beforehand with me at this pool, the best pool in the stream, or I am m istaken. What, business have you two i lonkevs to spoil the water for me—eh? little rascals like you can’t catch the trout yourselves, and you only make a mess of other people's sport. Oh. I say , though—’’as at the moment his eye , fell upon the brimming creek some- , what ostentatiously ope>ned by Donald, who had drawn near, and had understood enough to percei've that some one was being rated, and that his and his young lady's fishing w as, moreover, being disparaged. “Did you catch all those, "demanded the new comer in accents which tolf i their own tale. Donald nodded. “And here—in this pool?” The brat nodded again. “Good heavens, what luck! And I’ll warrant you have had the bes* ; of them, too* you young rascal And ; vou, too. you Jenny or Maggie, or what* >ver they call you, you can throw a Übm j as well as he. I saw you from the b ank. And I sky, What a nice rod,” pick! ng it up. “wherd did you get that rod? Wha gied it ye, lassie?” essaying the 1 zroad Northern dialect in an wnmistal tably Southern accent, and eyeing the i iretty rod, of a make superior to that which he himself held, jealously as he spoke. There was no sort of response. Miss Campbell of Inchmarew, was so _• once feeling herself fairly caught in her own trap. Granny had tol d her, what might be the result of he >r present disguise, andjthat result h» ,d strictly come to pass. The person making the miff take predicted by the wiser head was clearly a gentleman, and poor Jerry, tearful and sobbing, had all the instincts of a lady. It was dreadful to her to be addressed as she was now being—not t’naf there was anything rude or dii sagreeable either in the stranger’s ton e or ms’* nee, but it was sufficiently jocose and familiar to jar upon the eai • of a highborn youngmaiden, accustomed to a certain degree of deference- added to courtesy: and although a co ttage iassie, such as she was deemed to be, would probably have found no .fault either with the jog of the elbow or chuck of the chin which accompanied the last inquiry, it is hard to say "which of the two actions the indignant little lady most resented. -

Perhaps the swift recollection that she had brought both on herself was worse to bear than all beside. - Hitherto she had not spoken, being stifiiciently occupied in steadying her still tremulous limbs, and checking the tears which, do what she would, could notall at once be restrained, but the insult conveyed in the changing of plain English for broad Scotch was too much, and enabled her. better than anything else could have done, to regain full command of her small self. She now drew hastily away, drew up to her full fhight—alas! the cruel yellow oilskin hid the grace with which sho did it!—and with quivering, passionate lips, strove to assert her* self, her rights and her dignity. [to be continued. Painting. It is said that the smallest piecw ot painting in the world has recent ly been executed by a Flemish artis t. It is painted on the smooth side ot a grain of common white corn, arid pictures a mill and a miller mounting a stairs with a sack of grain ou his back. The mill is represented as standing on a terrace, and near it is a horse and cart, while a group of several peasants are shown in the road near by. The picture is beautifully distinct, every object jpeing finished with microscopic fidelity, yetby careful measurement It is shown that the whole painting does not cover a surface of half an inch, i square. Worth Remembering. According to a recent pamphlet by ' an Italian doctor a sure way of re- ' storing life in cases of syncope is to hold the patient’s tongue firmly. As- j ter two other doctors had worked for i an hour without result over a young i man who wps apparently drowned, he thrust a spoon into the patient’s mo .th, seized the longue, and worked it violently until the patient gave signs of life. Water the horse before you feed him; the water rapidly leaves the stomach and the gastric juices have full play. Water with the food weakens the digestive fluids. His stomach is small, therefore do not let him get too thirsty and drluk too much. ; Jmr/ • You can always tell a sprlfirf chick* «d by its oruw,

TAIMAGE’B SERMON. HE FINDS A LESSON IN THE MlGRANT BIRJJ& i ——— ► , Foretnlah Compared thr, Wlidoa nf the Bird* With the Foollal- ,u«aa of Illa People — The Christian Should Btrivofor a Loftier Flight in Grace. Autumn Thought*. Rov. Dr. Talmage, who has loft India and is now <_>n his homeward journey. selected as the subject of his sermon through the press this week. “October Thoughts,’’ his text being Jeremiah viii. 7, “The stork in the heaven knowoth her appointed times, and the turtle and the crane, and the swallow observe the time of their coming, but my people know not the judgment of the Lord." When God would set fast‘A beautiful thought, hq plants it in a tree. When Ho would put it afloat, He fashions it into a fish. When He would have it glide the air, He ixouids it into a bird. My text speaks of four birds of beautiful instinct—the stork, of such strong affection that it is allowed familiarly to come in Holland and Germany and build its nests over tho doorway; the sweet dispositior.ed turtledove, mingling in color white and black and brown and ashen and chestnut; the crane, with voice like the clang of a trumpet: the swallow, swift as a dart shot out of the bow of Heaven, falling, mounting, fikimming, sailing-four birds started by the prophet twentylive centuries ago, yet flying on through the, ages, with rousing truth under gloss ,y wing and in the clutch of stout claw. I suppose it may have been this very season of the year—autumn — and th'j prophet out of doors, thinking of the impenitence of tho people of his day>, hears a great cry overhead. The Memengerii of the Air. Nov z you know it is no easy thing for one v ,'ith ordinary delicacy of eyesight to lo- jk into the deep blue of noonday hea’ zen, but the prophet looks up, and the" re are flocks of storks and turtledo’ es and cranes and swallows drawn ou t in long lines for flight southward. A s is their habit, the cranes had arr anged themselves in two lines, mak- ' mg an angle, a wedge, splitting the I air, with wild velocity, the old crane, with commanding call, bidding them | onward, while tho towns, and the cities, and the continents slid under them The prophet, almost?* blinded from looking into the dazzling heavens, stoops down and begins to think how much superior the birds are in sagacity about their safety than men about theirs, and he puts his hand upon the pen and begins write, “The stork in the heaven knbweth her appointed times, and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow observe the time of their coming, but my people know not the judgment of the Lord.” If you wgjsb in the field to-day. in the clump of trees at the corner of the field you would see a convention of birds, noisv as the American congress the last night before adjournment or as the British plarliament when some unfortunate member proposes more economy in the Queen’s household—a convention of birds all talking at once, moving and passing resolu- I tions on the subject of migration, some proposing to go to-morrow, some moving tnat they go to-day, but all unanimous in the fact that they must go soon, for they have marching orders from the Lord written on the first white sheet of the frost and in the pictorial of the changing leaves. There is not a belted kingfisher, or a chaffinch, or a fire crested wren, or a plover, or a red legged partridge, but expects to spend the winter at the south, for the apartments have already been ordered tor them in South America or in Africa, and after thousands of miles of flight they will stop in tae very tree where they spent last January. Farewell, bright plumage! Until spring weather, away! Fly on, great band of heavenly musicians! Strew the continent with music, and whether from Ceylon isle or Carolinian swamps or Brazilian groves men see your wings or. hear your voice may they yet bethink themselves of the solemn words of the text, ‘ The stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times, and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow observe the time of their coming, but my people know not the judgment of the Lord."

I propose, so far as God may help me, in this sermon, carrying out the idea of the text, to show that the birds of the air have more sagacity than men. And X begin by particularizing and saying that they mingle music with their work. The most serious undertaking of a bird’s life is this annual flight southward. Naturalists tell us that they arrive thin and wear;,’' and plumage ruffled, and yet they go singing all the way—the ground the lower line of the music, the sky the upper line of the music, themselves the notes scattered up and down between. I suppose their song gives elasticity to their wing and helps on with the iourney, dwindling 1,000 miles into 400. Would God that we were as wise as they in mingling Christian song with our every day work! I believe there is such a thing afl taking the pitch ol Christian devotion in the morning and keeping it all the day. I think we might taW> some of the dullest, heaviest, most disagreeable work of our life and set it to the tune of “Antioch” or “Mount Pisgah.” Hinging as They Go. It is a good sign when you hears workman whistle. It is a better sign when you hear him hum a roundelay. It is a still better sign when you hear him words of Isaac Watts or Charles Wesley. A violin chorded and strung, if something accidentally strike it, makes music, and I suppose there is ’ such a thing as having our hearts so attuned by divine grace that even the rough collisions of life will make a heavenly vibration. Ido not believe that the power of Christian song has yet been fully tried. I believe that if you could roll the “Old Hundred” doxology through the street it would put an end to any panic, I, believe that the discords, ana the sorrows, and the sms of the world are to be sweptout by heaven born halleluiahs. Some one asked Haydn, the celebrated musician, why he always composed such cheerful music. “Why,” he sajd “I can’t do otherwise. When I think of God, my soul is so full of joy that the notes leap and dance from my pen?’ I wish we might, all exult melodiously before the Lbrd. With God sos Our Father and Christ for our Satfour and HeAven for bur home and angels fdr future cem]p«hlons asd eternity toe »

lifetime, we should strike all the notea of joy,, n,r trough the wilderness of this world let us remember that we " o n the way to the summery clime lof Heaven and from tho migratory I populations flying through this au- | tumnal air learn always to 'keep i|ing- » Chlldm of tbs hMvenljr king, As ye journey sweetly slsg. Slag your Saviour's worthy praise. Glorious in his works and ways. , , Y® are traveling home to God /In the way your fathers trol. They are happy now, and we < / Soon their happiness shall see. r The Church of God never will be a triumphant church until it becomes a . singing church. The Hl*her Chrtstian Life. 1 go further and say that the birds of > the air are wiser than we in the fact that in their migration they fly very high. During the summer when they are in the fields they often come within roach of the gun, but when they start for the annual flight southward they • take their places mid heaven and go straight as a mark. The longest rifle that was ever brought to shoulder cannot reach them. ' Would to God I that we were us wise as the stork and ! crane in our flight heavenward. We fly so low that wo are within easy range of the world, tho flesh and the dovIL Wo are brought down by temptations that ought not to come withta a mile of reaching us. Oh, for some of tho faith of George Muller of England and Alfred Cookman, once of the church militant, now of the church 'taiamphant! So poor is the type ot jnety in tho church of God now that anon actually caricature the idea that there is any such thing as a higher life. Moles never did believe in eagles. But, my brethren, because we have not reached these heights ourselves, shall we deride the fact that there are such heights? A man was once talking to Brunel, the famous engineer, about the length of the railroad from London to Bristol. The ongineerfaaid: “It is not very great. We shall have after awhile a steamer running -from England to New York.” They laughed him to scorn, but we have gonq so far now that we have ceased to laugh at anything as impossible for human achievement. Then, I ask, Is anything imposssble for the Lord? I do not believe that God exhausted all his I grace in Paul and Latimer and Edi ward Payson. , I believe there aro higher points of Christian attainments to he reached in the future ages of the Christian world. You tell me that Paul went up to the tiptop of the Alps of Christian attainments. Then I tell you that the stork and crane have found above the Alps plenty of room for free flying. Rlalna Above Temptation. , x We go out, and we conquer our

temptations by the grace of God and He down. On the morrow these temptations rally themselves and attack us, ana by tho grace of God we defeat them again, but staying ail the time in the old encampment we have the same old battles to fight over. Why not whip out our temptations and then forward march, making one raid through the enemy’s country, stopping not until we break ranks after the last victory. Do, my brethren, let us have some novelty of combat at any rate by changing, by going <&, by making advancement, trading offeur "stale prayers about sins we ought lo have quit long ago, going on toward a higher state of Christian character and routing out sins that we have never thought of yet. The fact fig U the church of God; if we as individuals made rapid advancement in the Christian life, these stereotyped prayers we Have been making tor ten or fifteen years would be as in appropriate to us as the shoes, and the hats, and the coats we wore ten or fifteen years ago. Oh, for a higher flight in the Christian life, ' the stork and the crane in their migration tea<jh us the lesson! "Dear Lord, and eboU we ever live, At ttita dying rare— O/ttr I6»e ao t£int, so cold to thee, And tblne to us so great? Daiifferevf Delay. I remark.that the birds iff titfo air are wiser than we, because they know when to start. If you should goout now and shout, “Stop, storks and cranes, don’t be in *a tney would say: “No. we- cannot stop. Last night we heard the in the woods bidding Us dwaiy, and the shrill flute of the north wind has sounded the retreat. We mast go. We must go.” oo they gather XJreinselves into companies, and’tarning not aside for storm or mountain top of shock of musketry, over land, sea, straight as an arrow to the mark, they go. And if you edme out Wis morning with a sack of corn •and throw it in the fields and try to (get them to stop they are so far up

they would hardly see it. They are on their way south. You could not stop them. Oh, that we were as wise about the best time to start for God and Heaven. We say: “Wait until it is a little later tin the season of mercy. Wait until some of these green leaves of hope are dried up and have been scattered. Wait until next year.” After awhile we start, and it is too late, and we perish in the way when God’s wrath is kindled but a little. There are. you know, exceptional oases, where birds have started too late, and in the morning you have found them dead in the snow. And there are those who have perished haUf way between the world and Christ. They waited until the last sickness, when the mind was gone, dr they were on the express train going at forty miles an hour, «nd they came to the bridge, and the “draw was up,” and they went down. How long to repent and pray? Two seconds! To do the work of a lifetime and to prepare for the vast eternity in two seconds! I was heading of an entertainment l given ha a king’s court, and there were I musicians there, with elaborate pieces ■of music. After awhile Mozart came and began to play, and he had a blank piece of paper before him, and the King familiarly looked over his shoulder and said: “What are you playing? I see no music before you.” And -Mozart put his hand on his brow, as much as to say, “I am improvising.” It was very well for him; but, oh*' my friends, we cannot extemporize Heaven. If we do not get prepared in this world, we will never take part in the orchestral harmonies of the saved, Oh, that we were as wise as the crane and * W ' ‘ ,i “ g ‘ W ‘ y Morrows of the Sinful, Sdm'e dt you have felt the pinching frdst of sin. You feel it to-dav< You are not happy. I look into your faces, and I know vou are not happy, There are voices within year nA that will

not be silenced, telling you tfl are sinners and that without tfl ' don of God you are undone fl What are you going to do, my fl with the accumulated transgfl of this lifetime? Will you stifl and let the avalanche tuiulfl you? Oh, that you would go avfl the warm heart of God’s morefl southern grove, redolent witfl nolia and cactus, never northern flocks as God has wafl you saying: “1 liurte Joved thefl an everlasting love. Come ufl all yo who are weary and heavfl and I will give you rest.” 1 Another frost is bidding you J it is tho frost of sorrow. Wheifl live now? "Oh,” you say, ‘fl moved.” Why did you movefl say, “I don’t wantas large a hoifl as formerly.” Why do you nofl as large a house? You say, “jfl ily is not so largo. ” Where hafl gone to? Eternity! Your mihfl back through that last sicknel through the almost supernaturaß to keep life, and through those fl that seemed unavailingfl through that kiss which receß response because the lins were 1B and I hear tho bells tolling andfl the hearts breaking—while I "fl hear them break. A heart! AB heart! Alone, alone, alone! | world, which in.your girlhood utM hood was sunshine, is dold nbß oh, weary dove, you fly -aroutiß world as though you would like B when the wind, and the frost, fl blackening clouds would bid yofl into the heart of an a 11-com for ft fl Oh, I have noticed again and I what a botch this worid makl when it tries to comfort ■ in trodblb! It nays, "Don’tß How can we help crying I the heart treasures aro scattereß father is gone, and mother isH and cdmpanionß aro gone, and thfl is gone, and everything seems! It is ho comfort to tell a man I cry. The world comes up and! “Oh, it is only tho body of your! one that you have put in the gr! But there is no comfort in that.-! body is precious. Shall we nevi our hand in that hand again, an! we never see that sweet face I Away with your heartlessneH world! But come, Jesus, and I that when the tears fall they fa! God’s bottle; that the dear bol our loved one shall rise radiant ■ resurrection, and all the brel down here shall be'liftings up I and x“they shall hunger no I neither thirst any more, ncithol the sun light on them nor an« for the lamb which is in the mil the throne shall lead them to I fountains of water, and God shall all tears from their eyes.” Call on AU to Go. You may have noticed thatwhl

chaffinch, or the stork, or the starts on its migration it calls all of its kina to come too. The tre are rull of chirp and whistle and and the long roll call. The bib not start off alone. It gdthert its kind. Oh, that you might wise in this migration to Seav< that you might gather ally our fa ana your friends frith yon! I ' that Hannah might take Samu the hand, and Abraham mig^ ( Isaac, and Hagar might tak* Isl I ask you « those w^ o *sata breakfast table this m.omlngw with you in Heaved I ask you inUuences you r,re trying to brim them—what oxainple you are s them. Abe you calling them with you? Aye, aye, have you s yor.rself? , Start fbr heaven and take your ( dren frith you. Come thou and a ' house into the ark. Tell yous ones that there .are realms of bal sweetness for all those wjttb fly i right direction. Swifter than e stroke, put out, for feeaven. Lik .crane br the stbrtt, stop not nigl day until you ffod the right plac stopping., Seated to-day in Chr service, frill you be seated in the glorious service when the he trtivo passed away with a great *'and the elements have melted fervent heat, and the redeeme gathered around the throne of J ir The Saviour calls. „ Ye wanderers come. * Oh, ye benighted aoula Why longer roam? The Spirit calls to-day. Yield to his power. Oh, grieve him not away, «- "Tis mercy's hour. His Revenge. For weeks she played with accepting his attentions one only to bow coldly to him the t He had waited long and patiei and now his opportunity bad « says Life.

As they sat on the beech tbge and looked at the niddh, he otfere tell her fortune by palmistry, assented, and taking her hand looked carefully at its delicate m Ings. The waves stopped breal and the moon listened anxlousl hear what he would say, k “You are a flirt,* he at ien said. „ , “Indeed, I’m not," she replied. “O, yes ydu are; it’s perfectly p from your hand, for if you wer you wouldn’t have let me hold it half an hoir.” Then the stars winked at e other, and the moon grabbed a p Ing cloud and got behind it Naughty Girls.

“I've been Insulted again,’’ « ’ the young man who tries to be , glish, according to the Merch Traveller. “Again?” said his friend in*t prise. “Ya-as. Stwangehow fwequen it happens?” “What was the occasion. “I was taking my bweakfa Beastly hotel, but the best th they have in this little town. * young woman who waited on came ovah and tuhned off the el twlc fan which Was buzzing Just o’v my head. ” , “Perhaps she wanted to save el irlcity.", “No, it wasn’t that, fohshe look ovah at one of the othah girls a 1 Said: “Theah, I told you so. wasn’t the wheels in his head ti made the no.'se at' alt" No woman deserves a new clo who didn’t put up a least two gallo of fruit, -