Jasper Weekly Courier, Volume 29, Number 18, Jasper, Dubois County, 28 January 1887 — Page 7

WEEKLY C0TJB1E1L O. JSOAWJC, 2?ublllwt. JAWKR. IXUIAKA.

SHE STOLE MY HEART AWAY. I w few aMMtaff iWwti t iuUr, A term ec yeathftU iimwi Mm bad the ffaafcaeaa the went, Mm ww ae awaat, afcawaN m aeat, fte eaaUe and w guy, what wM I do? Pur, wra I km, Mmi itote MV aaart iwhv It fHM toli mjr heart. I ksw net hew; OtMt t it WIM mltM, 'in seat wna hers, d yt kf made Of victory mi tlM ; Met stopfer tl)eMHikWM the ttr Te awat m with a ihhIm! Hew atovM a UUl almpto hmU A wfaw man so begullar .1 talk! ofthla; I twlkwl ef that; " I kmrw not what I taitl; I emit' her lainiax eya, Mar Vorly lljw o rvd, Mr iU brown hair, hr roy ahaaka, MW Stop HO light ,IHib' how th witohtHK hear ghaatoto my heart uwy. I wmt to seek It day )y tlay; Hut mmm Hwai vrj' 1hIh 'That err mora my tnunt heart Woaht float to mm again; It tk darling little waW, t WMi her preferred to stay; t It loredthe tfurllHir little maid That stole my heart away. gwtbaalaaldj "My charming arl, W bh thla los arrange; At you haw atol'a haart away, Yor idve me In exeaaaga; Sa to my happy home he came, A Hifa, iHjt yesterday; Aad tooufht with her own loving haart Th kaart fclw itola away. IMljtJC. Hrr, In X V, Utr, VERY "WUVATE." The "Bog-Rgamsnt" Batwew Aleok Fanshawe and Louise. It was in the HUtimm that thu news of the loss of the ship Albatross reached the small town of Haven. She had foundered on her way to Calcutta, and Aleck Faiishnwo was on lMtanlag super cargo. 'It Isn't as (hough Squint Fanshawe hadu t other sons," commiserated a neighbor, whim the blinds were pulled down and urape tied on the knocker at the lug stone maiiMon, and pmyora were oferetl in church for the Wnavel family and frieutl. Every ixxly in town, fi to soak, turned out to ohureh on that SeptemlMtr nmrniiig to See how the family took it, and to Ik able to criticise the fiuitrml sermon. The Fanphawes hal been it &y, worhlly crowd, and this wuh their llrst sorrow, and thwe who'lmd sen them in prosiH-rity and joy wanted t behold the eflTect of the revere; but they proved to Ik; a family who did not wear the heart on theMleeve: they eoudttetetl themselves bravely behind their wt?ds, and restrained their tears till they might How in private. Tlw only excitement of the ottuaeion, however, wa worthy of the exiwetatious of their friends. The family filed into church, Mack as grief and crajH? conhl nntko fehent. There wan John and bin mother, Sue and Ilildegarde; but who wa this other on the old Sqnh-e'ss arm, bowed with emotion, more anble than them all, in widow's vail and cap? Who? Why, it was only LouiMt Turner, whom they hal always known. Why was she in widow's weds and on the Squire's arm? Wiiat had happened to hur? There was lively gossip, you inayy re ure, that day on the way home from ehureh. "I rememlMjr he kind of attentive to Louise Turner one simjII," reflected Mrs. Amen. That'9 so," echoed Mrs. lk'. 'Don't you remember he took her to a concert over to Dunvers? He has always known "her; awl like as not there wr somt'thiMg Ixitween them." "So he has always known every otlir girl in town," said Mr. Hlunt, the sketie; 4,an4 h has Ixjen just as attentive to half a dosten others, as far as I can see." "Yes," acknowledged Mrs. Ames, reluctantly, "he was attentive to all of them on and off; bt then a man may be attentive to a doen, yon kaow, fchi!e h 0,iiv for n. ifa old; a H-onian eouhln't do it; it wouW lMre her horribly tlmt i, unlete she's 'Well, of course it's true," sighed Mrs. Hlunt, "or else she wouldn't be iu wklow's weeila ami in the Suuire's IHiW; lutt she's the last girl I thought aiock wtHtiti care for. I can't reconcile Miyself toiu" The interest ami surprise at this event seemed te subtract something nh the solemnity of the occasion. It vas not so wonderful that Aleck Fan. fhnwe should die as that he should havebwju engaged to Louise Turner, d ne one ever have giiessetl it. It Perplexwl d diaturlml Mrs. Blunt, J coukl hanlly tell why. Perhas she was disapjstinted that Aleck should 'Hvt; esml for stich a shullow girl as wniise; and then a suririse has an irritating effect um some natures. She MlwnM herself f having st little symimthy forljQuias In wckn tremendous WLr'tW l4M lHetty ; every lasly hl Louise wm jM-etty, and yrntng men m easily ji. Doubt ) jt hrnl Hjceurred at the lat moment Inrfbre his 'lrture, Louise had waited ftnreluru to declsre It, Aleck had w the lient malek in town, a4, hnre this wm a great Mow lor Louise, whom every be4y was hound to yimtM. But Mrs. Hunt wasdiswith 1JHy as well as iwutlty of her own rrapUiy. 'H seems," Mkid a neighbor, who JWed In to talk It over it seems t Louhw heard the rumor and tyrtf Fnmdrnwe's to "J tmth, mi when ft was reri2 wunt (uYnkhi into hyt4e

viitely engaged. Of eourse Ut Squire ndopttnl her lutu the lanttty t uuee. They bought her mourulit, the Yory beet, and I dure say they'll gire her AJeek'i mwuertar yo know bind i fortune from his own mother, the Squire's Junt wile." "Huve you heard that John refused to better It at flrst f" aaked Mrs. ree ; he wtw a little stiff at ffrst ; he nwer Hkwl Iouise, you know." "It seems Ui me 1 ahoukiu't want to take It on trust as they've done. I houhl want to see letters In his own hand, or something oonUrmutorv, not just her word for it." "Seems to nte it would be a tremendous oruelty Ut turn a deaf ear U lur at such a time and refuee to inilievs her story." "Vee," agreed Mrs. Blunt. " Better lw eheateil to the last than lose the blessed hope of truth,' as some poet says." It was a few days after theee astonishing event that Miss Betty LeKreton returned from a vacation at the mountains, without having heard of the disaster that had overtaken the Faushawee. "When Jam married," she ssid, in the enthusiasm of a first acquaintance with the mountains, "I shall take my wedding tour through the hills in a u"y; it's enchantment. Any letter for mo, Aunt Ellon? Any news?" "News? Oh dear yestoo nmoh. I didn't write you because Ididn'twjtnt to sadden your vacation. And you and Aleck were always such friends." "Aloek!" "Yes. The Allmtross has been lost at sea, and the Fanshawes are juet heart-broken, and Louise is there with them; it seems she was engaged to Aleck privately; and her widow's weeds are very becoming. It's a dreadful thing for her; but they say the Squire has about thu same as adopted her, and that she'll have the lion's share of Aleck's money. She went in on the Squire's own arm when the funeral senium was preached; it was very touching. Why don't you any something. Betty? I always thought you ami Aleck were good friends; and LouiW "What is there to say?" Betty asked, directly. There was an odd luster In her eyes, but she was not crying; she looked jHttrified. "You might at leaet say you were sorry." "Sorry? Oh, yes " absently I SUpjMUHf." "Why, Betty, haven't you any foel"I don't know. Perhajis not. What good would it do?" "Aleck was such a good friend to

you! Do you remember when he need to come and help you with your German? T used to think be was a little in love with you, Betty: lmt it Mwm I was mistaken; and for the matter of tlmt, it doesn't signify, now that he is dead. Indeed, it's better for you ae'it is; you are spared the sorrow. nrhj Betty, are you sick? Is any thing the matter?" Betty had risen with a great cry, and was stretching out unavailing arms into iqmett. "He is duadAleekand he lovud her, and she has a rigid to her sorrow; and!" It was three months before Betty Jms Breton was able to sit up. The neighiMtrs sahl she had come home from the mountains with malaria, ami it was doubtful if she would ever get it out of her system. Miss be Breton, her aunt, wisely said nothing; but when she saw Louise in her funeral garments driving by in Squire Fanshawe's carriage, she wondered if Betty were not far more miserable. Betty herself wondered why she did not die in tlmt bitter seNtum of despair. There seemed to Ihj nothing to detain her here; life had come to a stand-still. It was not that Aleck had died; she could have borne that, erhaps, and sm-rnwed bravely, and yet have lived on. That would have been grief enough, to be sure, for one heart to hear; but she would still havo jMissosecd the tender assurance of his love to conqenHate her. She would not have lost liim utterly; she could have lived on, with the certainty of meeting him unchanged at last, just as she had existed through her tedious work-a-days, sure of his ntut,t(iualSii t. tltiMi. luLMltm ri brightness in all her somlier days, the hours that were never absent from her thoughts, the hone that had carried her through all difficulties uncomplain ingly, Mow there was nothing for her to live for or to die for. It seemed ro her that the bloom was stripped from the world. She could not reconcile herself to her changed condition; nor adjust herself to the Ihjlief that Aleck hml cared nothing for her through all the years that had been to her lika heaven on earththat he had merely lnen passing tint time. She fdt. as If the solid earth had failed beneath her feet, and her life stretched out before her in dreary and IwraMt perspective. If she ooutd only be allowed Ut prwserre the illusion thnt he loved her, wherever he might be, that would hare sufficed for hnp)tine, would hare gilded all the empty years tlmt she must spend on earth without the sun, of his presence. But people do not me wmm tiwy hare nothing to lire for. Betty's aunt trusted to time to mitigate the blow; she renumbered that she herutlf once had a lover who deserted her, thnt she had cried her yes out, nnd had riven away all her jewelry, nnd believed she was done with erery thing; hut ten years later he panned her window daily, a hah), gouty mu from whom the ginkuyyi lnH AftM BmA a- J fjr Might nwmr sunt wwtu ffwv mtw MM, ivijvv m thni he hud roMnni ker of the new-

er f loving any one tine, nnd thnt other lovers had sighed in vain. When Betty lira went out, nnd bg an to rettWM her ordinary lite as if nothing bad happened, the Squire's family nnd gone abroad, nnd had taken Louise Turner with th-m to lighten the shadow of their grief; and n stone in the Squire's lot in the cemetery recorded the fact thnt Aleck Fanehawe had lived ami died. It wouhi hnre been a melancholy comfort to Betty to hang wreaths upon that greet white stone thnt confronted her like a ghost among the shrubbery, to nlent (lowers about it. But how could she lavAh such luring trifles in memory of the man who had deprived her of the poor privilege of weeping for him? She sometimes felt as if she would like to lenve Haven forever; every road and stile and bit of wood reminded her of Aleck. It was here he met her on her daily walk from school; it was in the wood they gathered the autumn leaves, and came home laden with spoils; on this liver the moonlight had found them; on this wild bank Aleck had sat and sketched the scene for her; beueath this tree he had read to her front the loets. The very air of the places they had frequented together seemed filled with the tender words he had spoken. Could it be that he had not cared? Why, then, had he spent his Inst evening ashore with her? He had left early, to Ikj sure, saying he must pack and Ihj off by daybreak. Had he gone from her to Louise? The bough of scarlet lmrries he had given her that night had hung in iter room ever since, where her eyes would see it on waking. The first time she was able to walk across the room aftor her illness she took it down and threw it upon the oen lire; indeed, she took out all of his letters for the same pui'iHse, but put them bsuk again, not strong enough to abandon them all at once. It whs summer at Haven, but it was not summer in Betty Le Breton's heart. I think she remembered other Junes, whose flowers were no sweeter, whose woods were no greener Junes that had borrowed something of their charm from her own happiness, that like the moon shone with borrowed light She was trying to sing one of the old songs at her piano one twilight songs she had sung with Aleck in their drives through the woodland aisles, where they had loved to linger; but the feobs choked Iter, and the tears crowded and jostled each other in her eyes; and suddenly when the last vibration of the notes had censed, a voice outside took up the strain and sang it through. It is Aleck," she cried, hurrying to the piazza like one in a dream. Then she waked, turned back and sat down. SnpjK)ing it was Aleck, he belonged to Louise. Of course it was a mistake. It was lecausc she had been thinking about him. Aleck was dead, and she hud no right to think of him. She

never would think of him again never; she would forget him, as he had forgotten her. Demi or alive, he could be nothing to her nothing, nothing. tie nau oroKen ner Heart; oonw one lore with a broken heart? Somebody was coming into the room with a lighted lamp, preceded by excited voices. It was Miss Le Breton fol lowed by Mrs. Ames. isn't it marvelous?" sue was say ing. "Such a shock, too, for the Sq ulre's family, just m they were get ting need to the idea of death:" "But ia it true?" asked Miss Le Breton. Betty had shrunken into the dark corner of the long room, (which Oho lamp only illuminated in patches) in onter to hkte the tears upon her eye lids. "True as preaching. I was just get ting into the train for Haven this after noonI had leen up to town for s trifle of shopping and I heard a familiar voice saying: 'Allow me to earrv your 1 hi mile, Mrs. Ames.' It ntade me shiver ami my Wood curdle. I looked over my snonmer, exieciinjr to see a ghosta railway station's a queer place for a ghost, though, isn't it? Well, there stood Aleck Fanshawe. I shaVtbe any more surprised at the Day of Judgment," "What a change!" cried Miss Le Breton; "and they all in their mourning, ami the stone up in the cemetery, ami the estate administered upon! I wonder where Betty is?" Yes, .seems as though they'd lieen to a mortal lot of expense for nothing." "And what a happy day for Louise Turner!" sighed Miss Le Breton. "I supiMWKj he has cabled to his father?" Mrs. Ames answered with a hearty laugh. "That's the oddest part of it. He asked about all the folks, coming down in the train; he d hi n't know they'd gone to Kunqw. Ami he asked first of all after your Betty upon my word! 'And you don't want to know alsHtt Louise?' said I. 'Louise who?' said be. 'Why, Louise Turner, of course.' 'What about her? Is she married, or dead?' 'Married!' I cried; why, Aleck Fanshawe, are you mad, or making Mieve? Didn't you expect that LouImo Turner would confess her engagement to you, you sly old dog, after Uk? news of your death?' Confess her enirnffement to me!y he repeated, snd he looked like a thunderbolt I was frightened. 'Yon don't mean to say a . . ........ z you weren't engaged to her? l anut. 'Now she's just like one of the family -wears whlow'a weeds for you,, ami went to ehureh on the Squire's arm when your funeral sermon was )renchedr 'Kngaged to her!' he cried; I never thought of it I am engaged to Betty Le Breton, ami I never hived any owe else.' I thought I'd run over and prepnre your mind," pursued Mrs. Ames, "for fear of the shock. Where's Beth??" Squirt PMhwt'i family rn7ttd

in Mason far Betty's wedding, nnd nhe took her wedding tour through the' White Mountains, aftor all. ButLouise Turner never appeared In iUrunugniu. vKinry Ar. Preteott, in Harper's Jhumt. Q AY HEAD INDIANS.

Am Iweeilrtel. Pra! mm4 Metal Since the terrible disaster which hefell the steamship City of Columbus, of the Boston nnd Savannah Steamship Company, aliout every one has become quite familiar with the name "Oay Head Indian." Their nobie and heroic services at thnt hour of peril will never lie forgotten. Gay Head is an incorporated town, situated on the westerly end of the County of Dukes, which embraces; the whole of the island of Martha' Vineyard. This Indian village has an area of S, 400 acres, which is divided into three IHUiinsulas, Kashaquitaa, Squipnocket and Gay Head, The town hi n'nrly severed from the rest of the island by Meuemsha pond. At the present time there are nearly two hundred Indians ut Gay Head, ami unlike many other remnants of Indian tribes in the commonwealth, they have for a few yeartf post lweu gradually inerensing in numlers. Tht-re are about fifty families, and the leo)le have for a series of years been seeking more profitable sources of income titan their isolated situntions naturally afforded, and some of them have achieved distinction as; efficient mariners or masters of vessels. The morals, education ami marked indications of civilised advancement among them are so striking that they attract the attention of those who chance to visit their sequestered island home. If there is a spot in all New Kngland where a recluse might wish to find ierfect rejnwe, free from all the troubles and anxieties of life. Gay Head is the place; and yet the Gay Header; are quite jealous of the influences and approaches' of foreigners, they having had considerable trouble with those who have married their daughters and settled among them. There is quite a diversity of soil in Gay Head, with some very good land and some very bud. Many cattle are driven here front other parts of the island for pasturage during the summer. One may stand on the southerly shore of Gay Head nnd see the little island of "No Man's Land" three miles away to the .south, which is also used as a ihtsturage. There is a unique kind of clay found here, which is used for making alum and for other purposes as well. These clay banks are several hundred feet high, and the depth and extent of this vein is not as yet known. There are various colors iii this immense bankblack, red, blue, white, etc. and the efleet from .the water, especially when the sun is out, is gorgeous. No visitor to Gay Head ever thinks of returning without taking Ids knife and cutting out a block of this precious soil. The native obtain quite a sum yearly by making this clay into pi)cs, flower jKjts, decanters. d tellers ami other designs, princiiMlIy fin ornament, which hey sell to hundreds of people that visit the island. Formerlv, when a ves sel came for this clay, men, women and children wouhi turn out en masse ami swarm around and assiet in loading, for which they would receive my. Even at this day the work of cutting out the olay, the sie of an onlinary jwving stone, gives employment to n number of men and 1kvs. The cranberries of Gay Head were formerly public property, ami were not allowed to lie touched until a given day, when the picking commenced, at which time every inhslntant would work with all his might and gather all within his reach. The value of the cranberry crop varies from $50 to $400, and the inhabitants receive about $.100 annually for pasturage. The revenue from sides of clay ie comparatively nothing, taking into consideration time occupied in digging it and molding it into the several designs. In the adjoining town of Chilmark there is some of this clay, which can be placed on vessels at prices much lower than at Gay Head, ami consequently no little revenue is taken away from the inhabitants of Gay Head on this account. Away back in the past, any member of this tribe could take up, fence iri and improve as much of the land as he pleased, ami when inclosed, it Intcame his own. It might very naturally 1m inferred by this that such n state of things would engender many disjHttes and quarrels, lmt such was not the case. It was a kind of government within government, not conducted by any code of laws except the Imne and muscle of those taking up the land. The thty Head Indian are a mixture of the red, black and white races, nnd there Is, too, some Southern blood among them, as well as Prtugese and Dutch, if such names as these nre auv criterion: John Uandohm. Mtuli- - j son. Corse, Sylvia and Vernderhoop. Through the intermarrying ami the coming in of foreigners, the Indian ' n Nines an; almost pushed out. The (Jay Head icop!e am on tho whole a moral, frugal, industrious and temperate people, and are quite equal in these respects to white people with similar surroundings. Gay Head light, situated on the highest land there, hi considered the most powerful of any on the Atlantic eoaet, ami it has been a faithful beacon to many a mariner on thhi rough and tompmluoue sen. jwsvvn (fees. For a nfmphi hut enotltent ere water take a teaspoon ful emm f tnhk salt, sugar and burned coepera. Add a pint of huWng waton When eol. dndn oT, iudkrHlriatna-'rWMM

OUft JACMC

Ms neWaf w to ate etac U ue. Oar esar UUto Jaett-acMl Wtt nties m von or piartfcn. All ever ta aersety Aoor, A fcojr that'll very Miatt; TV 't owrFMk at U f Or, wUli mtJf best Smjmm, Ana Ma nana'i saae toe Ms eleMevtaK mwm, Ms's a MMea4Meaa aiabaUMiee use. Ke'c a sarpawtar, iMaettag a Wtt a UM a4 M )M-kiitf, AjmI HMuai'i avMM tted maail kia Umm. Ms'a a fewMMK-, M M( M lite. He' a ar aoHiamaa, wtt Oaaefot fsawa, Aatl a Qiroatwilaa' etati attMelMd Ught. Ami amaUt all Um doll la the waefct dell-tew. TtMMtgh thef- are aanalaaa aad yoanfat itaiie. K'f a humt'i Mian, wnk Um Maaer belt; He' i a Renew, with a moo? ; Ho' i a piddlar, with anafais ot UHaga to sett; Ha's a latlk auMi, with iSMh a waoofi l He' i avarytMaf that bomms Sato Ma haaJ; Iadaei, K i oaljr vkw Ha's itetMMt ailoip la at wae, wMto bad, That ha'a our HUfct Jak aalal haud S aap Bal MiaKdVnu JMaM usnn 404 aMPjpM wnaMW ae HE HELPED THE KING There was a little shepherd-boy who kept his sheep down in a lonely valley. War was raging' in the land, and the boy would have liked to go out and fight against the enemy, but he was too young. He wae a good boy, careful of his sheep and kind to his dog, ami active and industrious at hie work; and at home he was obedient and gentle, and always ready to do a good turn for any one. But, though he liked his work, he would have liked better to fight, and lie was very Morry that lie could not be a soldier. One day a long column of loose soldiers, with Wight red coat ami flashing helmets, and trumpets sounding, rede through tin) valley on their way to battle. Among them was a young soldier, a cousin of the shepherd-boy, and not man years older. The boyD called to him, ami bade him good-bye, ami as lite soldiers disappeared at the end of the valley, lie said to himself: "I wish -I were as old ne my cousin, that I might go out to fight the King's battles. He will risk bis life to help the King, ami, may be, be may do something great, and help t win a battle ami save our country; but I can do nothing but stay here ami watch a few sheep. I wish I could do something to help the King." Ashe said these words a pigeon came came hurriedly flying close over his head. Tlie boy looked up, ami there was a hawk chasing after her. The poor bird flew round and round, and here and there, ami managed to escape as far as the next meadow; but she was close fcdlowed at every turn by the hungry hawk, ami it wae clear that she would 1e caught in a minute, if no help came. There was no time to go round by the gate, so in a moment the boy jumped on a high stone-wall that parted the two meadows; it was a high wall, and there was a steep, rough rock on the other SHle. The jump was a dangerous one, but without nMment's hesitation the brave lad leaped down, and the next moment though he sprained Ids foot and fell, striking one cheek against a sharp edge in the rock he was up again on his feat, ami flinging his crook st the hawkhe stopped him just in time to save the poor trembling pigeon. Then he took up the pigeon, more dead than alive, and stroked it gently. In a few minutes it seemed to gain strength ami courage. Meantime, the skepiterd-boy, limping as he went, carried the bird round to the meadow where he was keeping his sheep. Ami now, while lie was feeding the pigeon with some bread crumbs it. came into his mind: "What am I to do with this pretty bird?" At nrst he said: "I will take it home to my brothers nnd si stem. "How pleased they will he!" Then it occurred to him: "Perhaps the pigeon belongs to om one else. Indeed it must, for it's not a wild wood-pigeon, bt a tame one; and besides, some one has tied a ilk thread and a piece of paper round He neek. Bid then, hare not I mMfed it? It would have been killed hut for me. Surely it belongs to nte. Ami besides, if I let it go, may not another hnwk kill it?" All this he thought to himeeH, ami part of it he spoke aloud. But when he had finished, his conscience toM him that he ought not to keep the pigeon; it was very hard to let it go, hut B was right So he kissed the pigeon ami said: "Good-bye; go home to your muster who gare you your little silk collar." Away flew the pigeon straight toward n castle at theNop of a hill a long way off, and at the same time away galloped a man on horseback down in the deep lane that ran by the side of the meadow. The boy wondered for a minute who it was that, had been quietly waiting in the lane, but soon he forget nil about thnt. Kow, you must know thnt this man who galloped of when the pigeon flew away was no other than the King. The King had been riding a little behind his soldiers, ami had heard all the shepherd boy's complaints, and how he wanted to do something to help the King. He had also noticed how the brave hoy had jumped from the top of a high wall and had tared the pigeon. Moreover, just as the pigeon was rising to fly away, he had noticed the little piece m paper tied by the silk thread round the pigeon's neck. Me had not noticed tWtwhih) the bird wan m the boy's hand, hut when k begun to lap He win&t 1m Mttfgtftt sigfct of it mm Mmm It was one of Me wn tnrrtor pigesns hriaglng a mm to

Iftlf KMaia eet4a( ttKSy Hll (J JmJ

the pigeon flew onT the King ftdkMMvt news the pigeon brought him. When he reached homo be saw the pigeon wnttfmf for him. and on omminff the J4ntja fcrtP aWHl tnnJt fflnm$ iftPIMHi mfc hut Oennmls, telling Mm where the enemy were encamped, and ihowina; him how he could bring up a freak army, and so he might defeat the name the sohtfera, again riding through the valley with the King at their hand. And this time their trumpets sounded, not for war, hut for gladness and panne; for they had defeated the enemy m a great battle, and now the war was erer. Again the shepherd-boy looked at the brave soldiers riding through the valley to the King's castle, nnd again he wished that he had been a sokUer aide to do something to help the King. But next day while he was sitting wim his faithful dog by his aide, watehinf; his sheep, came a messenger from the King, saying: "You are to come at once to the King's palace." The shepherd-boy assured the messenger there must be some mistake, hut he said there was no mistake, and would not even give him time to put on his clothes. When they came into thu castle hall, they found the King s oat id on his throne, ami around him all hut councilors, generals and oiicera. Presently the trumpeter blew a trumpet ami gave notice that lie had been ordered to call out the names of all those who had helped the King in the war, aad each man was to come up to receive a reward. So the trumpet blew, the- names were called, and both councilors and soldiers went up in their fine robes to receive their rewards. At last the trumpet blew and the shepherd-boy's name was read out. At first he did not stir, feeling sure there was some mistake, but those near him said: "The King is looking at you, go up." So he went toward the King looking very much perplexed and a little ashamed. But the King smiling at hint, said: "Little friend, what reward must I gire you for the help you gare me in my war?" Sir," said the boy, "I deserve no reward, for I have done nothing. I nm only a poor shephenl-boy keeping a few sheep in the valley yonder, and I could not help you, though I wished to erer so much." 11 "But," said the King, uncovering wiener cage, "I think you know this bird; and are you not the brave hoy ' that leaped down at the risk of his Ufa to save the pigeon from the hawk?" "I saved the pigeon, sir, that k true." "Yes, ami afterwards you were honest enough to let it fly again, instead of keeping it Now this pigeon brought me news that helped me to gain the victory. So you see you helped without knowing it. Your reward shall he this sword, ami when you grow .up I will make you a captain in my army." So the shepherd-boy in time heenme a soldier, and lived to be a great General, and before he died had gained mnny battles, and done many brave deeds to help the King. All children are like that shepherdboy in the lonely valley. They hare little tasks and duties, and it seems as if they could do nothing great for God our King. But it is not so, for ne one knows whether what he is doirfg is great or little. Very often an action thnt seems very trifling, hi really groat in God's sight and He will reward our good actions. It seems a little matter to be kind to brothers ami sisters, to be obedient to parents, and industrious at lessons just as it seemed to the shepherd-boy a very little matter to watch over a few sheep, and to he good and kind at home. B ut U he had not always been honest nnd brave in little things, he would not hare been so when the pigeon came, and then he would not hare helped the King. And so, if you nm not good in little thinrs. you will flml, when God sends you some great thing to do, thnt you can not be good in great things. There fore, whatever you do, whether alone or with others, whether at work or at play, remember that though you are n child, you can do something to help the Lord our King. You are helping Him whenever you are doing what is right . JT. A. Abbott, D. D., m Jhtrmbk ff ChiHren." A Deed of Hsroism. Lulu Carpenter, tweire years old. was mortally hurt in n terrible eyekMM at Sunk Ratmls, Mian. She had fled from the storm, hut went back after her baby sister, and wan caught and transfixed by a huge sprinter that pierced through her body. Her first words, when her grandfather found her thus, were: "I am dying, but I sared the baby.' The poor girl lingered a day er two in delirium, ami her last words wers: "Don't be afraid, Susy; nothing shntt hurt you; Lulu will take care of yen. Don't be afraid." How mnny other acta of heroism were done in that awful storm ne nu lmt God Himself knows. are recorded on hkh.A Norwegian farmer named Chrhv tlanson, living near Toronto, D. T., was driving home from town recently when an eagle measuring nine feet from tip to tip settled on his shoulders nnd attempted to carry him on. The farmer managed to get several lines nheutlhe bird and captured k alive. a a a -More ttum Jf.WO.000 feet of mmWWlt sa rM Bn uPm WirV, WarW m itw aws se eueafa Kmtuwm nHMa

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