Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 January 1888 — Page 2

THE INDIANAPOLIS JOURNAL, SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 1388 TYI3tVI3 PAGES.

Printed by Special Arrangement. Ccpyriqlited 1834.)

A LITTLE BROWN WITCH J1Y HAIIRIET TKESCOTT SPOFFOBD.

She was an indescribably lean, little brown y ereatare, with elf-locks hanging around her prsternaturally old face, where the eyes all "live and awake look out of their places" bright a those of Broking's gypsy witch, "As if the could doable and quadruple At pleasure the play of either pupil." The tan of all the sun in the sky and all the sheen of the sea were on her skin; and a melancholy like tbat of the sphinx seemed to have turned the face to stone. She eat in a little hut by the short., whose door was open; and she bad a little dead child across her knees. Of course we looked in, and then we went in. You poor child!" I said. "Tell me, what is this! What does it mean? How terrible for you here, all alone! Is there nobody " "That's just it," she said, in a low, bollow tone, and as if talking to herself. "Nobody." I kneeled down beside her, and looked at the little dead tbree-year-old baby jnst our Effie's ageputting my arm around the elder one as I did so. ''You cau kiss her if you want to," said the child, with a sort of gasp. "She was so sweet." J didn't want to. But I kissed her; and then I kissed the little mother holding the dead baby cn her knee. She looked at me again a moment with those fevered eyes, and then she leaned forward and rested her bead on my shoulder. "There's nobody kissed me," she said faintly, "since the day that wave tumbled over father and he never came up. And the baby had fever, and he'd gone up to town for some medicine, and I was looking out for him, and I saw him and the wave. It's stormed a week since. Of course it's stormed. The sun couldn't shine if it would. There's been nobody hero. And there's been nothing to eat. And " "And what are you going to dor I interjected. "I'm sitting here till I die, too. 'Twon't be long, you see," she said, faintly, looking up, and leaning back in ber chair again. "I'm so little it won't take so long to starve as it doe3 sometimes. I don't feel so had, you know, because I shall see them so soon now." "Starve!" I cried. "My dear child! What do you tbink of such a thing fori'' "There's nothing to eat," she replied in a dull tone. "There hasn't been, this two days. What else shall I do? And I'm I'm glad of it It's the only way I can have my dear people again!" she said with a little dry sob. "And of course God meant that I should, or he would have sent something. I couldn't leave the baby." "He has sent something!" I said, crying myself. "He has sent my husband and me. You ball go home with us." And I took the poor baby and laid it on the bed, and while the other child looked at me with half bewildered eyes, I proceeded to unpack our lunch basket and light the spirit lamp for Ralph and I had strolled down the beach for an old-time picnic by ourselves and to heat some milk and water, which I made her drink. "It's too late for the baby, she said, holding it off a moment. I sat beside ber and in a little while made ber drink some more. And then as she seemed falling a6leeo I went to the door, where Ralph waited for a whispered consultation about the baby. "No, no," she said quickly, all alert again. "Baby can be buried where ber father was. In the middle of a wave. We cau row out there in a boat the boat came ashore yon, know. Baby would like that best." She said then quickly: "She might, you know, she might sink and find her father's arras he loved her so." How wizened, and old. and preternatural she looked as she was saying this in her thin and feeble voice! But, of course, we could cot think of any such burial as she proposed, and the baby had a little funeral that outraged none of the proprieties. And as no one in the region roundabout knew anything more about the children and their father than that they had come there and had lived some months in that lonesome but, out of sight of any but the sea-gulls, when we went a way, which was in a couple of days, we took the little lean, brown creature - home with us. "For what else is there to do?" I said. "I don't know as there is anything," said Ralph, dubiously. "And the little wretch relies on us so that I don't suppose we can put her off into any institution, as Aunt Juliet sugeests." "No it would not do. Don't you see the ehild is full of a certain sort of refinements and of strange ideaiities? Didn't you see her rocking EEQe in the twilight? Erne takes the place in some fashion of that baby of hers. She sings the sweet old English ballads that I can't imagine where she picked up. And did you notice how careful she was to makeup the Hitle parcel to take with her? What do you suppose there was in it? Something she called her mother's wedding-lines. And a little bundle of letters, and an old photograph of ber father, and a rine, just a plain gold one that his father gave him when be was a boy, and that he used for her mother's wedding ring and the mother died, poor young thing and they were so poor he old everything else, but he wouldn't sell that. She said ail this as she was putting up the parcel. I haven't asked to see anything in it." "That is right. Respect her reserves. And by and by she may forget the thine. I hope so if we keep her. And it looks as though it were -meant we should." "Well, if ever there were two young fools who ought to have guardians appointed!" cried Aunt Juliet, coming over later. "Of course, you can always find a leading of Providence whero you want it. But I hope you are going to keep her in the kitchen, and make her of some use!" "You don't mean to send me away! ' cried a voice behind us, and Nina that was the name her father called ber. her mother's pet name stood there, tiptoeing, her great eyes glowing . and darkening, her hands wringing one another. "You can't mean to send me away when you've broucht me here, when I've got nobody else but you, when I lov you so!" And the tears that ber great despair and neighborhood to death had not called forth, plashed over now in large drops. "You know," she said, "that I will take care of Efh, and run Rose's errands, and sew with Jane all day long, aud I will teach Effie ber letters, and I can wipe dishes, and pick over berries, and I can dust, and feed the cats, and put ice on your headaches, and air the newspaper " "For goodness sake, hold your tongue, child," cried Aunt Juliet. "I should thing she went by . machinery. Of course you'll make yourself useful and stav in the kitchen and earn your ' living. And I expect," she said warninely to me, 'that she'll eat you out of house and home. The idea of taking in every beggar's brat you como across!" Bnt Nina had no idea of staying in the kitchen. On the eentrary. wherever I was, she was, and I soon found that she considered herself on the footing of a little or elder daughter. For a while now. Nina was very quiet: sometimes she cried a little all by herself, but quite gently, over a doli she played with; sometimes she came and stood by me hanging an arm about my neck, silent for a long while; sometimes she sat in the big window and crooned ber old ballads to Ralph, for whom she had developed an extravagant devotion. "He i3 lovely, isn't he?" said she. "Oh, if I could only do something for him! If it would do him any good to walk right over me 1 would lie down under bis feet indeed I would!'' "That is very strong language," said I. "I can't see how that would do him any good. And it would hurt you." "I should want it to hnrt me!" she exclaimed passionately. "I can't do anvthing for him except to be hurt!" But after a season this feeling seemed to abate somewhat, for Nina went to school, and the new interest and excitements there diverted her till she began to bate her lessons and defy her teacher and presently to beg to stay at home. And whet, alph told her she was his little girl, atI -ust have an education suitable to his little girl, she declared she was nothing of the sort, out was his little servant Aunt Julia bad said so and she needed and would haveico education at all. Of course this phase ended by the teacher giving her a reprimand beforo the other children, and with that be became, as you may say, uproarious. She alter that was more likely to be found wading in the riTer up to her neck, wbeu the school-bell rang, or swinging in the topmost bough of a tree, or walking round tbe eaves of the bouse with her arms balancing ber steps, than picking up her hat and books. Once, indeed, having her school-luncheon strapped over her shoulders, ehe staid up in the tree all day and all night, in spite of my efforts. Ralph happening to be absent, and I felt tbat see might not bave come down at all if she had not seen the doctor call for little Effie of whom sbe was passionately fond, and into whom she had confidently told me she was sure the soul of tbe litile dead baby must have gone which sight brought her down so incontinently as to bring a multitude of scratches and bruises with her. Neither entreaty nor force mold bring ber to leave the room after tbat till Effie was pronounced to be out of danger. It was of no use to tell her tbat she pained us by her conduot it was we who pained her. It

was no use to tell her she was disgracing the name we bad given her; she said we could take back our name and she would take another. And she could be brought to see no use in booklearning, or demure behavior, or in any obedience she did not eee fit to render. The years were soon a long struggle with her. I don't know bow sbe managed to learn anything during this course, unless sbe absorbed it at the pores, although she listened, to oe sure, prery intelligently in her corner of the hearth when Ralph read aloud evenings. "It's just as I said," declared Aunt Juliet, who, being the person of means in tbe connection, took the liberty of saying what she liked. "You've taken a little hussey that you don't know anything about into your hearts to break them!" Nina was still, at fifteen years, a little, lean, brown thing with owl's eyes, and as farouche and shy as anything of tbe woods, when Lance came home. Lance was Ralph's brother, and bad been away at tbe naval school and then sailed round the world, and had not been at our home in tbese six years. "Well," he said, "what imp of darkness is this ? " And she heard him; and nothing could bring her into tbe same room with him during the whole time of his stay. But by and by she hung over the balustrade to listen to bis voice, or she hung over the balcony to see him on the lawn all if he were not looking or she flashed like a firefly from window to window to watch him if he strolled around the river-path and behind the fringe of birch and beech with Flora Penny, our pretty neighbor. "I always did hate a white girl ! " sbo muttered. "I like dark people," she said, "like you and me. We are alive ! " Once or swice during Lance's stay Nina went into the kitchen, and with a strong hand compelled old Rose, the cook, to show her how to prepare certain dishes, and then she watched outside the door of the luncheon, now to learn of their reception, which was tolerably favorable. "I always knew I could do it if I wanted to," ehe said! And then she might have been observed bent over work in hidden corners till she bad finished a little purse of steel beads. "Here!"" she cried over the bannisters, tbe morning Lance was going away. "You take this! There's a lucky penny in it." He looked up and saw her bendiog there the strangest lady, so serious, and dark, and witch-like, that ever sent knight on his devoir. "I will take it," he said, "if you will come down and give it to me." And step by step she came down, as if he drew ner forward and some unwilling fiower held her back, and laid the little brown eaf of a hand in his. And then Lance drew her a little nearer, and bending from his lordly height to kiss me good-bye, turned and bent and gravely kissed her, too. In another instant she had broken away, and had raced out into the orchard and hidden herself in the long grass; and when she came in, some hours afterward, sbe announced tbat she was was never going to wash the spot upon her face that Lance bad kissed. "That girl is a fool," said Aunt Juliet, who had dropped In. I don't know whether the fact that ber foot caught in a croquet wicket and threw her down on her way to the gate afterwards had anything to do with her remark or not. Shortly after this Nina said, "You know I always said anybody could do anything if they only wanted to do it. I wanted to cook those things; and you know what be said about them. I wanted to make him a purse, and there wasn't a knot in the silk. Now I want to learn French and music, and all that white thing Flora Denny knows. And you'll se!" And she did. Not all at once, of course, did we see the desired proficiency; but she bad a natural aptitude for music and for art And presently a strange quietude seemed to have fallen on the house; and now, instead of a little brown imp, there was a slender dark young girl whose angles were turning into curves; on whose olive cheek a ruddy tint was blossoming, whose lips were a bow-knot of scarlet, and whose eyes there never were such eyes out of a gipsy's head! The swift capriciousness of movement had become a sort of flashing grace; indifference to dress had changed to a wondrous taste for the picturesque; and carelessness for the feelings of others bad vanished before her old, intense tenderness for one and all of us. "She has been going through the chrysalis stage." said Ralph. "And what a gorgeous butterfly she is going to be!" "She is not going to be a gorgeous butterfly at all," said L "All this has resulted from some dream of Lance, and Lance will marry her white enemy there, of course, and she will sadden into a little brown moth of some sort." "Nonsense," said Ralph. "Lance only opened her eves. Every girl, every boy, has to bave a half dozen chances before tbe real one oome3 along. Don't you remember Romeo's Rosalind? Yes." Lance will marry Flora, and much joy go with them. But our Nina shall do better." Ralph was right. One day Flora came in quietly witn a letter in ber band, and told ns in ber gentle-voiced way of her engagement to Lance: and if Nina had had a dream the dream was over. But I was not at all right myself: Nina did not sadden to any extent for any length of time, and before we could account for it ourselves, she was brighter and sweeter and even gayer about the house than any household fairy. "You had better call me your Brownie," she Baid, when I began to perceive from how many little tasks she saved me; how much she looked out for Ralph's comfort, how absorbed she was in Effie, how sbe beautified tbe house with her pencil and her flowers, what a bit of vital hearthnrvshe bad become. But while this peacefulness was developing at home, there was trouble brooding abroad. Ralphs business was in a sad way, and creditors were cruel and disaster was impending. And one day it came. The great operation on which, outside of his legal business, Ralph had been engaged so long, fell with a crash, and all our hopes of the future and all our certainty of the present fell with it. Everything was to be given up, and with all the rest our home, that had been such a nest of happiness for all our married years. Of course I did what I could to hold up my poor Ralph's hands, and it was settled that we were to go into lodgings and live in the smallest way possible while be was picking up some practice again, takiog a desk in an office that was open to him. "Now," said Aunt Juliet, "you see what it is to have burdened yourselves with another mouth to feed and back to clothe." "Nina i3 no burden," said L "She is a blessing. She is an angel we entertained unawares." "Oh, yes; she's all your fancy painted her; she's lovely, she's divine. But she's got to live!" said Aunt Juliet "And you've got to find ber the means. And I don't see how you're going to do it without starving and stripping your selves. Surely you can't afford to keep a cook now; and I'll take Rose off your hands. I've always wanted her." Of course, I gave Rose the option of going to Aunt Juliet "No, I thank you m'a'm." said Rose, "I wouldn't live with your Aunt Juliet, m'a'm, not if she had the only mansion there was in heaven!" "I always told yon I was your little servantmaid," e4id Nina. "And now I shall either eo out Ur work some way, or stay and do your work here? I can't do too much for you. I can't do too much for him! Do you know once I thought, for just a little while, that Lance was the only man in the world! Lance isn't a shadow beside him! There isn't such a soul alive as his, and you were made for him! Oh, if I only were good for something now!" "We will all work together," I said, thinking it best to disregard her enthusiasm lest it became hysterical. "The laundress and the second girl have gone: and it's just as well; for we shouldn't have room for them in our new lodgings" and then it was I who was hysterical, for I broke down crying, the thought ot leaving my dear home being more just then than I could hear. The appraisers had been there that day, going over everything, and it had all seemed such an intrusion and profanation that it bad been too much for me; and I wondered when an apparently accidental bucketful of water was dashed from an, upper-story window as they were going away, giving them a thorough wetting, if it had not been too much for somebody else and the old spirit might not be again taking possession., "It made something flash fire inside me like sparks," said Nina, "to see those men turning over our dear things. Oh, tvhy can't I do something to earn some money in a lump? If there were only a millionaire for me to marry. I might marry biro, you know: I'm very pretty." "Oh, Nina!" I exclaimed, "is this the end of all my teaching?" But I bad to laugh in the midst of my troubles. ButNina did not took at it as I did, the affair anyway being in the nature of a roytb. "I'd marry him. you know, in a minute, if I could," she said, "and give his money all to you. If I had Aunt Juliet's money, do you suppose I'd take your cook? Do you suppose I'd let them take your house? No! If I had a quarter of the bonds she has packed away in that safetydeposit box of hers I'd make life so cay for you all that you'd think you'd died and gone to heaven! And be should never have a care again! And here's Effie to grow ud without an educationheavens! I'm so glad I learned something at last she can have all that now! She should bave everything, the darling, if I had it, and you and he should have tbe rest! I'lie awake nights and picture how I'd spend a forenne if I Lad it. and spend it all for you." Well, I felt such love more than repaid me for all the trouble I had had with her from the boor w ben I found her in the little fishing hut on tbe shore, and I told ber so, and we bad a very enjoyable cry together. I was sitting that night rocking mvself disconsolately by tbe firelight, for we bad already begun to economize in the matter of lamps, when Ralph came in from outdoors and sat down opposite. Nina was on a sofa behind he screen

with Effie lying back in her arms, telling stories in a low voice to the child, who had not yet outgrown them, and I marveled a little to hear her and think it was my bit of wild-fire tamed. Ralph sat looking in the fire and occasionally throwing on a handful of cones and watching the swift fragrant blaze they made. "I suppose we shall have to go next week," he said. "I've been over to look at tbat little flat I suppose it will do. It isn't the place for you" "Oh, anywhere is the place for me," I said, "that you can manage to put me in!" "Four rooms in the heart of the town," he said bitterly, "no views from my window but one of squalid backyards, no river, no great hemlock trees, no pine cones to burn on open fires just tbe barest getting along until we can do better if we ever can." "Well." I said, "it might be worse. We can he very happy if we are only well and have each other." "Yes," be said. "Yes. But it is hard to leave all we bave worked for these dozen years, all that is dear to us; hard, too, to have slipped by so nearly as I bave done to a vast fortune as that would have been but for if it had not been if I had only seen but there, there, the more one thinks the worse it grows! The world is all alike. Somebody else is slipping tolerably near a fortune with less likelihood of getting is, by what I beard in the office to-day. One of those English fortunes falling due to some unfindable heir." "i thought the things were all frauds," said L "Tbe great fortunes in the Bank of England belonging to people over here." "Oh, they are. very likely," said Ralph, absently. "1 his wasn't one of that sort This is the case of an absent heir the son of a man named Strachan, Reginald Stracban, a man of great wealth in London, an old East Indian merchant, whose son married some young singer or other and ran away with ber one Romena Romena DyBart They have been traced to this country, and it is known that a child was born and named for her mother, who died presently. And all further trace of him is lost. The case has just been sent to our office by the English solicitors. If the son is living he is a millionaire. If he is dead tbere is a fortune of some hundreds of thousands of pounds belonging to that child, Rowena Strachan" Suddenly there seemed to be an earthquake in the room, tbe screen went over with a thud, and Nina, still grasping Effie, had sprung forward, and stood between us, her eyes ablaze, the color flushing her dark cheek, her lips parted. "Rowena Dysart!" eaid she. "That is my mother's name! It is inside the ring she said my father had it put there with his own it is in her marriage-lines. And Reginald was her husband. It's all about them and the father, the cruel, cruel father, in the letters. Oh, you can prove it all! It isn't called Stracban, as you said; it's called Strawn, you know. And Nina was her pet name. And tbat child who is the mistress of a fortune of hundreds of thousands of pounds, and they're yours! All yours! Why that's just as plain aB day!" she said, without regard to grammar. "That's me!" HUMOR OP THE DAT. Accounting for It New York Sun. "Yes," he said, "I began life as a farmer's boy and to-day I am worth millions." "To what do you attribute your success?" "To getting away from the farm as soon as Z could." m Not the Solitary Oyeter. Burlington Free Press. At the church sociable: Vivacious Young Lady Guess what we are going to have tonight, Mrs. Bascom charades! Mrs. Bascom I knowed it! I smelt 'em clear out to the gate. Wasn't a Circumstance to What lie Could Do. Tid-Bits. Editor: "Young man, this copy is written in a very bad hand. Is that the best you can do?" Young Man. who wants to be an editor "Oh. no, sir; I cau write worse than that when I really try." A Mean Question. Tid-Bits. "The ark was built in a warm country, wasn't it, teacher?" asked the bright girl of the class. "Yes, what is now known as Asia Minor." "Then where did Noah get two polar bears from?" Teacher (crushed) "Go down foot." Once In Four Years. New Tork Sun. "No, Miss Smith," he said, and he said it gently, but oh, so firmly, "it can never, never be. While I am sensible of the high honor yon do me, and will always be a brother to you " "Chestnut," murmured Miss Smith, and George Sampson went out into tberxii&ht A Dear Little Fellow. Mrs. Hendricks (to husband) Bobby asked me last night if God sent the rain, and on my telling him yes, said he supposed He must pour it down through the stars. Dear little fellow. Mr. Hendricks Yes, Bobby is a nice little Now, who the mischief filled my shoe full of banana skins? Mrs. Hendricks Oh, I suppose it was Bobby. Cause for Regret. "George, dear," ehe said with a blush, "do you know that Mr. Sampson asked me last night to be h wife?" Well, I like his impudence. The idea of proposing to an engaged young lady. What did you say to him?" "I told him that I was very sorry indeed, but he was too late." And Mr. T. 7.ooked Puzzled. Boston Beacon. 't j , Mrs. Kerless You seem gVeatly changed and improved since your return from Europe, Mr. Thompson. Mr. Thompson Oh, vastly, I assure you. Why, I'm a different man altogether. Mrs. K. Indeed! How pleasant that must be for Mrs. Thompson. Calming the Wave. Harper's Weekly. "Phwat in the name o' common-sinse air yez doin' wid de kirosaoe, Dinnie?" "An' didn't ye jist read that ile poored an the waves wud calam thim?'' "I did that" "Phwell, Oim tbryin' the ixperiment an the cowld wan phwats furninst us."

An Admirer of Drowning;. Puck. Miss Breezy (to young Mr. Waldo) I have finished the volume of Browning, Mr. Waldo, which you were kind enough to send me; and I thank you so much! Mr. Waldo You admire his poems, of course, Miss Breezy? Miss Breezy Oh, very much! I think they are immense! Cut Oat for a Lawyer. Boston Globe. "Stevie." a bright four-year-old. bad been told that he must not ask for anything to eat when visiting tbe neighbors. Soon after, at the house of a distant relative, where he invariably found something to eat, he hung around, with a wishful sort of look, until finally he broke out: "Aunt Jane, I'm awful thirsty." "Are you?" "Yes, I am so thirsty I could eat a doughnut." Unavailable Assets. Boston Globe. Johnnie, a bright boy of six years, while being fixed up for school, observiug bis little overcoat much the worse for wear, and having more mended places than he admired, turned quickly to his mother and asked: "Ma, is pa rich?" "Yes. very rich. Johnnie; he is worth two millions and a half." "What in, ma?" "Oh, be values you at one million, me at one million and baby at half a million." Johnnie, after thinking a moment said: "Ma, tell papa to Bell the baby and buy me some clothes." About a Famous Hymn. Toronto Globe. "Thou leddest them in the day by a cloudy pillar, and in tbe night by a pillar of fire." GuiJe me, O thou great Jehovah! Piljjrim through this barren land; I am weak, but Thou art mighty; Hold me with Thy powerful hand. Bread of heaven! bread of heaven! lfeed me now and evermore! Open now the crystal fountain Whence the healing streams do flow; Let the fiery, cloudy pillar Lead me all ray journey through. Strong Deliverer! strong Deliverer! Be Thou still my strength and shield! When I tread the verge of Jordan, Bid my anxious fear s subside; Death of death, and hell's destruction. Land me safe on Canaan's side. Songs of praises, songs of praises, I will ever give to Thee! William Williams, the author, was born near Landovery, Wales, in 1717. He was one of that godly company that centered around Lady Huntingdon's parlor the founder of sixty-two churches, the benefactress of hundreds of poor students a lady whose name is an honor to womanhood, and one whose life to this day is a constant benediction. What Gerbardt did for Germany in the matter of sacred song, what Charles Wesley did for England, Williams did for Wales.

Written for the Sunday Journal. A New Leaf. When the Old Year has held out his hands and has said His last blessing for men, at the side of his bed, Made of starlight and sunlight, and spangled with dews, With eclipses for covers like archangels use And has folded his follies and laid them away, In the depth of some distant and deep-frozen bay. And has tied up with ribbons of rainbow the reams Of bis joys, and retired to his slumbers and dreams: Then I hear the sweet ring of a voice, like the call Of the vanishing twilight, so still and so small. To the stars, the earth's guards amid slumbers and fears, As she whispers afar to their quick, tender ears. With a tremulous, sweet and melodious flow. The pass-word of their watch, very soft, very low. Lest she give the red comet the pass of the night And he sweep o'er the earth in his fierce fiery flight. And the voice tbat I hear, so distinct and so clear, From the sunligbted hills of the hopeful New Year, Seems to hint at the past, of it failures and faults. Of the half-hearted life, the delays aud the halts In the march toward a better and a happier life, And the conquests that Satan has made in the strife Between evil and good and from out of her grief She says ' Tarn, sinner; haste thee, and turn a new leaf." A new leaf, a new leaf, how it rings, how it sings! So I seize the swift morning and spring to her wings; And I fly to the forest; but Winter is king; And the ice-covered vines, with their frosty arms, cling To the limbs that are leafless and now the still voice That is small and so silent and sweet says, "The choice Is not here; in the wilderness ne'er will you find A sweet rest for the heart, a great peace for the mind. " Then away to the land where the Summer is king; Where the fairy-like mountain lives ever in spring; Where the fruit will be gold and the leafage e'er green, While the sun, from tbe water, looks out with a sheen: And I reach forth to pluck a leaf, new as the print On a dollar let fall from the stamp of the mint Bnt the angel says "Stey, all the earth is as dross, And her treasures and gain are but phantoms and loss." Then I fly to the East and I fly to the West; And I circle the globe, till I come to the nest Of a glistening stream and the form of a man Who is dying of thirst, and within but a span Of the Spring; so I gather a eup full of drips, And 1 give them to moisten the dying man a lips I have turned a new leaf, and have found it as bright And as clear as the tear of an angel of light. GaEENCASTLE, Ind., Jan. 5, 1883. W. Written for the Sunday Journal. When Youth Is Gone. How can we know when yonth is gone, When age has surely come at last? There is no marked meridian Through which we sail, and feel when past. A keener air our faces strike, A chiller current swifter run; They meet and glide like tide with tide. Our youth and age, when youth is done. Albion Mary fellows.

Written for the Sunday Journal. The Ijost Letter. See! This is the secret the light discloses. As it dimly peers through the cob-webbed pane Of the garret window. How long it's lain In the dark with the cinnamon roses. Among the satins aud stiff brocade, . Under this hat with its high cockade. In an old red coat, that a valiant Tory Wore through the wars. Ah! here is the place A musket ball passed through the tarnished lace, "AU for King George and old Britain's glory!" Those the last words that his loyal breath And his proud lips framed, as he dropped in death. "All for the King!" Yes, that is the reason That hidden away in this old red coat, Is a carfully folded time-stained note. For Millicent's father thought it treason She should plight her troth, or keep fond tryst With a rebel. And so the letter missed The maiden's hand, and here it reposes, Though more than a hundred years have flown. And over her grave the summers have thrown The arms of the cinnamon roses. These are the lines that, in trembling haste On the eVe of battle, ber lover traced: 'Beloved To-night my liberty, Yea, even my life I shall risk for thee, For one short moment to look on thy face, And clasp thy hands in a last embrace. Meet me once more when this long day closes, Sweetheart, down by the cinnamon roses." The yoking moon swung like a silver censer In a mist of clouds, and the dsws fell damp; A bugle called from the distant camp, But still he stood as the gloom grew denser. Trying to quiet his heart's loud beat. And listening in vain for her coming feet. Brave patriot heart, that on the morrow Should wonder no more with a throbbing pain Why Millicent eame not down the lane. While' she, with a strange forboding sorrow, Restlessly thrummed the spinet keys, Awakening the saddest of melodies. "All for King George and Old Britain's glory!" And the soldier fell, and she never wist i Of his faithful heart or his lonely tryst. Vnly this letter eauld tell the story, ' Folded here where no eye might mark. Hidden a hundred years in the dark This letter the dim gray light discloses. And the days passed on with their weary feet Till her aching heart ceased at last to beat, And, under the cinnamon roses, Long years ago she went to her rest; The secret was safe in the old oak chest. Annie J; Fellows. Written for the Sunday Journal. 'Way Down In Spice Valley. I. 'Way down in Spice Valley I'm drifting to-night, On a river of dreams, with a heart that is light As the lilt of the woodlark, atilt on the tree, By the spot where my cot in that vale used to beWhen life was a lily just opening its eye, To the dew of the dawn, and the blue of the sky, 'Way down in Spice Valley. II. 'Way down in Spice Valley, in fancy, I see The bloom of the clover, still beck'ning the bee The low leaning orchards, the herds on the hill. And the road, like a ribbon unspooled, to the mill; Still, still, in my dream, I can see the old stream, And the ford, where the farmer drover over his team, Way down in Spice Valley. III. "Way down in Spice Valley, Old Time falls asleep. With his head on the sward, in a slumber so deep That the birds cannot wake him, with melodies blithe, And the long valley grasses grow over his scythe And summer kneels down, in her long golden gown. On a carpet of green, where the skies never frown, 'Way down in Spice Valley. IV. 'Way down in Spice Valley, my memory goes, With a sigh, like the sob of the river that flows In that faraway vale, and I pray in my dream, To be borne, hen I die, to that beautiful stream. And tenderly laid in the welcoming shade Of the wide spreading woods where I wondered and played, 'Way down in Spice Valley. James Newton Matthews. Written for the Sunday Journal. Whispers. When the summer moon is clear, And the soft wind in the leaves Sweetest fancies round us weaves, It must fall upon the ear In whispers. In the forest grand and old. With its silence dim and deep, Secrets of the mighty sweep Of eternity are told In whispers. When the dear ones end their play, And the pretty eyelids close, As we watch their calm repose All our tender words we say In whispers. When the power of love is felt, And the words of passion rise As we gaze in drooping eyes, Quickly then the voice will me't In whispers. So on mother nature's heart, In her peace and ten ierness, Lot, I wait for your caress. And the bliss you may impart In whispers. Klchard Lew Dawson. The Price. You would be a great artist? Can you make A lyre of your own aching heart-strings, and, Striking it with a careful, critic hand, Out of the chords a deathless music wake? Or can you take the keen-edged blade of Pain, And from your quivering soul, witb its dire aid, Studying meanwhile each stroke as it is made. Chisel a statue for Art's sacred fane? Or can you in your hea rt's blood bravely dip Your brush, and paint a picture that will bring The while it sets the dull world wondering The approving smile to art's impartial iipf Can you pour sweet from bitter! Can you, whirled By tempest, guide a storm tost bark to calm? Can you go starving for love's blessed aim, Yet of your very famine feed a world? You cannot? 'Tis too great a price to pay? You are too weak! Ay. 'tis a fearful prise. If you one moment count it sacrifice,. Yon are not called to greatness; go your way And live like other women, and rejoice In your own path; it may be better so. I do not say, but this full well I know, God gives unto His chosen ones no choice. Carlotta Perry, in Lippincott's Magazine. The Serenade. The midnight is not more bewildering To ber drowsed eyes, than, to her ears, the sound Of dim. sweet singing voices, interwouud With purl of flute and subtle twang of string. Strained through the lattice, where the roses cling. And with their fragranee waft the notes around Her haunted senses. Thirsting bevond bound Of her slow-yielding dreams, tbe lilt and swing Of the mysterious, delirious tune. She drains like some strange opiate, with awed eyes Upraised against her casement, where, aswoon. The stars faU from her sight, and up the skies Of alien azure rolls the full round moon Like some vast bubble blown of summer noon. James Wbitcomb Biley, In The Cosmopolitan

BEADING FOR THE SABBATH.

Snndsy-Sohool Lesson for January 22, 1888. JKSCS AND THK AVFWCTKD. Matt. XV, 21-31. Golden Text Is any among you afflicted? Let him pray. James v, 13. M. Matt, xv, 21-31. Jesus and the aSieted. Tu. Luke vii, 1-10. The centurion's faith. W- James v, 7-20. The prayer of faith. . Th. 2 Kings iv, 18-37. Another mother. F. Heb. xi, l-lO. Reward of faith. Sa, Acts viii, 2G-40. A gentile convert. Su. Acts xi, 1-26. Gospel to gentiles. Still seekine the rest He could not find in Galilee, Jesus takes his disciples out of the domain of Herod into the mountainous region to the northwest, on the borders of Tyre, and Sidon. Here he is met by a woman of the region, seeking his help to cure a poor sick daughter. In a wonderful way he draws out her faith, and then honors it by a marvelous eure, the daughter being made whole from that hour. He then passes northward and eastward toward the Jordan. He crosses the stream, and travels down on the other side toward the region of Decapolis, or the ten cities, where he heals a great multitude afflicted with all kinds of diseases. Every physical, mental or moral ill yielded to His power. HELPS AND HINTS. Some Test Questions 1. What do we know about Tyre and Sidon? 2. Who were the Canaanites? 3. How did this Caaaanite kno w that Jesus was the Son of David! 4. What is meant by being possessed with a devil! 5. Why were the heathen called dogs? 6. In what way was her faith great? 7. Trace on a map the trip from Capernaum to Tyre, and thence to Decapolis. 8. Why did they glorify the God of ot Israel, and howl Subjects for Lesson Talks 1. The hidden Christ. 2. The silent Christ. & The healing Christ. 4. The modern demons that possess men and women. 5. Anxious, praying mothers. 6. Evil and willful daugaters. 7. How to pray for those we love. 8. Christ is still for Israel (verse 24). 9. The great multitudes of the suffering. 10. At "Jesus' feet." SPECIAL APALICATION. This lesson, more than anything else, teaches us the greatprivilege of bringing our friends to the Lord Jesus, and the very solemn duty of doing all that we cossibly can to bring together the sinner and the Savior. There are two great ways of doine it. The first is by our faith, by pleading for them as though for ourselves; the second way is the direct helpful one of going with them, hand in hand, before the Lord. The ordinary way of praying for sinners has none of the "Lord, help me, or I shall die," and rather seeks to remind the Savior of these poor sinners that he ought in some way to reach and save. In a real earnest prayer-meeting sinners feel that they are "down at Jesus feet." Religious Notes. More than 900,000 copies of the Oxford Bible for teachers bave been sold. Pope: It is with narrow-souled people as it is with narrow-necked bottles the leas they have in them the more noise they make in pouring out. Bacon: Read not to contradict and confute, not to believe and take for granted, not to find talk and discourse but to weigh and coneider. George McDonald: Some things after all come to the poor tbat can't get in at the doors of the rich, whose money somehow blocks up. the entrance way. A band of Franciscan nuns have taken vows to devote their lives to missionary work among tbe negroes of the United States, particularly those of the South. A. Lincoln: I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for tbat day. Charies Kingsley: Do to-day's duty, fight to-day's temptation, and do not weaken and distract yourself by looking forward to things which you cannot see, and could not understand if you saw them. The Salvation Army consists of 2,262 corps, with 5.684 officers. During the last year 1,810,380 meetings have been held, 2,717,880 houses visited, and 148,905 persons were eonverted in Great Britain alone. A lease of 999 years, made in the days of King Alfred, has just expired in England. The land was leased by the church to tbe crown, and reverts now to the Church of England after a millennium of years. Chicago Living Church: An English country rector is trying to live on $1.20 a week. We hope that no immigration act will prevent his coming to America. There is a large field for such clergymen here. Holmes: Tfiey say that the truth is not to be spoken at all times, which is the equivalent of saying that truth is an invalid, who can only take t he air in a close carriage with a gentleman in a black coat on the box. The Lutheran Church, as well as the Romanist, is establishing parochial schools. The tendency in Milwaukee, for instance, is marked, the attendance of pupils in such schools having increased 75 per cent since 18S0. Dickens: The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our first parents, and will last unchanged until oar race has run it course, and tbe wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion, Death. Sam Small has resigned the agency of Paine Institute, has retired from the itineracy, and has settled in Washington, D. C. At tbe late session of tbe North Georgia Conference he was discontinued at his own request, after one year's connection with that body. Until very recently Methodism has never had a society at Leatherhead, England, where John Wesley preached his laat sermon, a week before his death. There are about fifty members there now, but they bave no chapel. A movement is on foot for the constructtion of one. Prances Ridley Havergal: "Still, how shall I be kept?" Jesus has himself answered: "If a man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of the world." "Walk in the light." "looking unto Jesus," and so shall we be "kept by the power of God through faith." The unbound journals and logs of the ships Resolution and Discovery during Captain Cook's last voyaee, which were recently found in tbe British Record office, contain, says the Athenaeum, at least ten separate accounts of Cook's death. They give some curious variations from the accepted narrative. John Telford, B. A. in his "Life of John Wesley,' says that when Mr. Wesley went to Oxford University, he had no notion of inward holiness, and that a conversation which he had late one night with the porter of his college made a lasting impression on his mind, and convinced him that there was something in religion which he bad not yet found. Rev. C G. Finney: In crossing the Atlantis we were overtaken by a gale. Upan tbe deck the noise of the waves howling and roaring and foaming was almost deafening. But when I stepped into the engine-room everything was quiet. The mighty engine was moving with quietness and stillness, in striking contrast with the roar without. It reminded me of the peace that can reign in the soul while storms and tempests are howling without. Spirit of Missions: There are 40,000 wild Indian children in this country. Of this number, all told, there are but 12,000 gathered in the government and mission schools, leaving 28,000 children to whom no school opens its door, and to whom no Christian missionary comes. There are at least sixty whole tribes upon whose darkness no ray of gospel light has ever fallen, as pagan and as savage as were their ancestors when the first white man landed on these shores. The Jews have a custom of burning a taper in memory of the dead. When one taper burns out another is substituted, so that tbe flame, like the vestal fire, is not allowed to go-ut. Said a Hebrew in New York: "We light the taper when onr relative dies, and let it burn a year. The last taper we let go out of itself. It flickers, flares up, sinks, flares again, and then goes out. just as human life does in its last hours. We tend thia light with great care, and thus keep alive the memory of our loved one. It is an old custom which is now becoming less observed. Many now only burn the taper for a month, and some but a week." Mr. Edward T. Fleming explaining in an article in the Independent why the ne?roes voted so largely against prohibition at the Atlanta election, makes with others this point in regard to the dram shops: "It is a truth tbat tbe only place open to a negro where he can get equal rights is a bar-room. Hotels, railroad trains and stations, soda fountains, opera-houses, church meetings, camp-meetings, gospel-tent meetings in fact every avenue of equal rights is shut to him save the low, mean, dingy barroom; and this fact had its weight." Tnat is, the dramshop keeper does for money what tbe churches will not do for Christ's sake. The Island of Pspua. With both German and British explorers busy in tbe great island of Papua, important additions have been made within the last few years to the knowledge of its interior. The two great rivers which Mr. Bevan bas recently explored to distances of 100 miles from their mouths are on the Southern coast. Any immediate value they may have to commerce will no doubt be as highways for product of the interior. An island close upon the equator, and with a large part of its coast region unheaHuy, especially in the vast swampy regions, would hardly attract settlers; but the indications of gold recently discovered may draw adventurers where the fine and vai-

uable timber and other products would appeal in vain. The recent return of Mr. Bevan to Brisbane will soon be followed by the a stalled account of bis latest discoveries. It is rather .... A.lrkhU tbnfc An 4aTari4 a? rtjV a An r.

and visited much more than three centuries ago, should still be to so large a degree unexplored. CHIPS. A philosopher is a man who can solve all the problems of life without lifting a hand. If the old price of coal will only retsrn all will be forgiven, and no questions asked. The baked potato must go. It is declared decidedly vulgar to have butter appear on the dinner table. Because the paragraper makes game of everything, it doesn't follow that he lives exclusively on quail and venison. They have a bird in Africa which has a note like a striking clock, and Is called the clock bird. It is probably a species of cuckoo. California has shipped East this year seven train-loads of raisius. All, doubtless, raisins why everybody should move to California. "The Campbells are Coming,'' is a tuns) which no considerate person will hereafter whistle in the presence of Arbuekle's coffee. A biographical notice of James Whitcomb Riley, accompanied by a portrait, will appear in tbe Book Buyer some time during 1833. It is Indianapolis's grandest boast tbat she baa not a Browning club inside the corporation. The English branches are studied here exclusively. Honey is reported very scarce. No won4ef there was such a fearful lot of it spread around and wasted in the Campbell -Arbuckla correspondence. It is stated as a great fact that the King of Spain, only eighteen months old, is an absolute monarch. Healthy boys of that age are always absolute monarchs. An appropriate philopana present from a a young man to bis dulcinea would be the cookbook just issued by Alexander Fillippini Delmonico's rieht-band man. Men got their rights if they only wait lone enough. It is now the groom's turn to be kissed by the minister, as Mrs. Colby, of Bingham, I1L, has been licensed to solemnize marriage. Royal Fox Soe, Dr. Ralph Perry's young African protege, bas written from Liberia for three thousand cartridges and three lead pencils. He is evidently getting ready to go into journalism on civilized principles. The government of Nova Scotia offers a reward of $500 for the apprehension of one Jasper Preston, a barber, who is supposed to be in this country. He is doubtless wanted for manslaughter, by the old method. It will gladden a great many hearts to learn that the female fool is not peculiar to America. Four respectable yoang women have been arrested and fined in England for tagging around with bouquets, after the Mexican cowboy show. A wealthy Buffalo bachelor buys three seats every time he goes to the theater, one for himself, one for his overcoat, and one for his hat Out this way he would have to buy four the other one to keep out the woman with the big hat. Pope Leo XIII is said to have received as jubilee gifts an embarrassing number of "dressing gowns, slippers, etc." Women will be women, and if the Pope is smart, he will turn around and have a bazaar to dispose of the supernuous articles. Vive la Protection: Henry Irving Imported twenty-seven pounds of English plum-pndding at Christmas time, and had to pay $5.00 duties and costs thereon. This year Mr. Irvin will probably write to his aunt for the recipe, and have the pudding made here. Puck thinks the hand-shaking public should find out that there is"feome difference between a President and a pump. Under some administrations, however, there isn't much difference. In a race as to animation, the wooden pump would always come out ahead. . When sea serpents and snake stories are unseasonable the enterprising newspaper man does not necessarily retire from fictional publicity. Owensboro, Ky., comes to tbe front with, a tale of a bottle of milk which bas hung fourteen years in a well, and is still sound and 6weet. It is a very short-sighted shepherd that falls out with his flock in the dead of winter. Sympathies are to be extended to a preacher in Sheboygan, Wis., whose family and effects were recently set out in the street by a mob of women, and also to a Syracuse, N. Y., pastor, who was locked out of church by his congregation lor reasons connected with Henry George. Artistic Needlework. New Tork Evening Post. A cloth much used in fancy work and still very popular at the art schools is kermer linen. It is eighty inches wide, and not high in price. Althoueh many specimens show a tendency to bold effects produced by a comparatively small amount of labor, others exhibit the most careful elaboration, French knots covering the entire surface of the material. Some of the white linen covers are very effective on which quaint mediaeval figures are wrought. Feather stitch, is made to look very pretty by using two threads of a contrasting color at the same time. Battle-ment-stitcb, stem-stitch, rope, chain, briar, and satin stitch, all these and many others that are to be seen in early English and Eastern tapestries, are in requisition, and it would seem by results of all kinds in fancy work that never before bas fine needlework attained such a pitch of excellence or been more worthy to be ranked as a fine art, hardly second to the achievements of the pencil or the brush. Enelish Simplicity. London Letter. How much simpler and less expensive are the toilets of a young English girl than are those of our girls. I heard lately of a gentleman in England, whose income is $300,000 yearly, and he gives an allowance for dress to each daughter of just $300 a year. Of course when sbe is presented at court he wonld pay for her train dress, as tbat would cost $125 at least. At an afternoon reception given by an admiral last month to his only unmarried daughter, a few days before her wedding, the bride-elect wore a short dress of gray cotton trimmed with Breton lace, such as an American girl might wear to breakfast. She looked very sweet and simple in it. In tbe room adjoining the luxurious drawing-room the wedding presents were displayed, and after the ceremony at church, tbe following week, only the family and intimate friends returned to the bouse with tbe happy pair. A City Under theSea. North German Curette. A city at the bottom of the sea was seen toward the end of October nar Treptow, in Prussia, wnen a powerful south wind blew the waters of the Baltic away from th e shore, uncovering a portion of ground usually bidden from sight by the waves. It was the ruins of the city of Regamuende. once a flourishing commercial station, which was swallowed by the sea some five centuries ago. The unusual spectacle was not enjoyed but for a few hours, when the storm slackened and the waves returned to cover up the place which had once been the residence and field of labor of busy men. A Moonless Month. Golden Pays. The month of February. 1866, was in one respect the most remarkable in the world's history. It had no foil moon. January baa two fall moons, and so had March, but February had none. Do you realize what a rare thing in nature that was? It had not occurred since the time of Washington, nor since the discovery of America, nor since the beginning of the Christian era, nor since tbe creation of tbe world. And it will not occur again; according to the computation of astronomers, for how long do you think? two and a half million of years! Was not that traly a wonderful month? The Lesson of the Case. Kew Tork Evening Post. We think it would puzzle any lover, la spite of the elucidations of the press, to say what light the case throws on the conduct of breach of engagements, except that it is always, if you have plenty of money, very foolish not to settle out of court. Arbuckle could probably have got back bis letters and a quit-claim deed of his own person for $10,000 or so, if he had thrown his heart into the negotiation. New he is the laughing-stock of the town and probably $70,000 out ef pocket.