Ligonier Banner., Volume 13, Number 47, Ligonier, Noble County, 13 March 1879 — Page 3

The Ligonier Banner, LIGO;‘II.ER, . ' lt':o : am:' m;;;l;:ANA.

THE SECRET OF THE WHITE , CHEST. -IT was just the house I wanted. In size and situation it suited me exactly, as the phrase goes, literally down to the ground. Facing Hyde Park, and placed back from the high-road, with nothin§ in| front of it %nt the broad strip of garden belon%ingto the terrace in which it stood, and the open stretch of turf and trees, it was the very best abode for a London season. Its rent, too, was extremely moderate; it was in sound repair; drainage without a flaw; fixtures, furniture and decorations in the best taste; the owner only desiring to let it occasionally, because he went away from town each spring. Why then did I hesitate to take it? Why did everybody hesitate to take it? For the last seven years and more it had never been let. All the houseagents at the West End had had it in hand one after another. The terms had been reduced each season that it came into the market, and still there was no finding a tenant for it. Everybody who went ‘over the house was charmed with it. The entrance being in the rear, all the best rooms had a delightful southern aspect; and going u%) from floor to floor on their fifst visit of inspection, everybody grew\more delighted the higher they got. The apartments increased in cheerfulness, if notin size, the outlook from the windows became more extensive and airy, while, when one reached the top story, and ascended by a narrow stair on to a leaded flat roof, with a high balustrade running round it, the 'view was, as the house agent expressed it, ¢ quite unigue™ | 'y S ' Nevertheless, everybody havinfi reached. the roof, and having looke round for a minute or two, descended with a firm determination not to take the house. Now what was the reason? It was not haunted, no ghosts had ever been seen, or mysterious noises heard—such things were never hinted at. There was nothing about it in appearance like the gloomy forbidding mansion in Seven Square concerning which S 0 many queer stories are told, and which, like the ‘house in question, no one will take. No, it. was the very reverse, in ail respects, of that long (and still) untenanteg abode. I had heard the rumors about the Hyde Park house often when I had been in London, and my curiosity had always been piqued, so that now, when I wanted just such a house for the season, I determined ‘to go and look at it for myself. Finding all satisfactory and just as I expected, from bottom, to top, I was stepping out on the roof with Mr. Crumble, the agent, and was saying to him: .

‘“Well, I can’t conceive why people won’t live here,”” when my eyes fell npon a curious objeet u(i)on the leads at the rear and surrounded by a high railing. It looked like & huge sky-light or glass lantern, about ten feet long, three high and three broad. But instead of forming a light for a stairc®¥ or room beneath, it seemed to have been built for the purpose of covering another curious object, which, occupying. nearly the whole of the space under the -grlass, was plainly visible through it. his was a long white box, resembling 4 seaman’s chest more than anything, only much larger. It rested upon four legs or feet, which raised it about a foot from the flat surface of the roof. It was painted a creamy white and varnished, and, apparently not being intended to open, any more than its glass covering, had no hinges ér lock to its top or lid. ' : * What the deuce is that?’ said I to Mryr. Crumble. :

‘¢ Ah!” replied that functionary, with . an odd expression in his face, ¢ that's it, ‘sir?”? ‘““What’s it, pray®”’ . ““ Why, the secret, sir.” : ““The secret? how is it a secret? what do you mean?”’ ? ‘“ Well, sir, what it is, what it's meant for, what’s inside of it.”” | “Don’t you know?"’ i } “No. siv)” &+ ““Doesn’t anyone know?”’ . f ¢ I suppose somebody does, sir, but * we don’t; we are forbidden to inquire, or to attempt to find out; if we knew - we should be able to let the house perhaps?”’ b » ‘ How long has it been there?”’ ‘“ A long while I believe, sir—ten or twelve years. Before my time.” - ¢ But who putit uFP” “Well, Mr. Gayling, we suppose; nobody seems; to know exactly when it first appeared there.” ‘“But the servants,”” I protested, ‘‘they must know.’” ' : “Oh!I have heard there were none in the house at the time; they, were all dismissed just before it was put up. Mr. Gayling never keeps many servants, 'sometimes he has only one, some- ” 4imes none. Nobody lives in the house . when ke’s away, but he always leaves the keys with us. He isalways changing his servants, Mr. Gayling is; I have often heard him say that he I;Ekes new ‘brooms.”’ i 7 ‘¢ What is he, or what was he?""

‘“A gentleman in the naval line, I believe, sir; they are rather rum ’uns, Tmwid.? "} : , ~+ “Humph!” I said, *“very odd. But ‘do you mean to tell me that nobody will live here because they don’t know what's in that box?”’ L “ That is ?artly the reason, gir.”’ “ Absurd,”” 1 was going od, when :the man continued: @ ‘‘But there’s a clause in the agree-* ment about it; that's what does it, e , “Explain,” I said. ; ‘“Well, sir, here is the clause,” and ~he produced the document; ‘‘perhaps you would like to read it yourself?” Thus it ran: L ‘““And in taking the house, at the . rental, and for the term specified as - above, I hereb¥ solemuly pledge my ~ oath never - directly, or, indirectly, through my own agency or that of -others, to attempt to meddle with or ¢ disturb the white chest under the glass case of the roof, or to seek in any way

to discover for what purpose it has been placed there, or what it contains; ‘and I further guarantee that no person in my employ, nor anyone entering the house during my tenancy thereof, shall make ani such attempt, and I here‘b{s)7 undertake that in the event of their being detected in doing so, or of my doing so, to forfeit the sum of one thousang pounds, and, in accordance with this a?eem'ent, have, in proper le&al form, odged the said sum with thé bankers-of Thomas Gayling, Esq., the}lle,s,sbr, as a guarantee of my good faith.

‘“But for that clause,” went on the agent, as I finished reading it with some surprise, ‘‘we should have no difficulty in letting the house.” | ¢ Pray, is the owner, out of his mind?’ I asked in a minute.

¢ Not that I am aware of, sir; he isa very pleasant, affable gentleman, Mr. Gayling is, only, as I say, a little rum on some points; nothing will induce him to strilie out that clause, for instance. Ler bless you, sir, parties never entertain it for a moment when they come to that part of the business; they drop it like a hot potato.” ‘“Humph!?’ said I again. “It's queer, certainly, but I don’t see why one shouldn’t acquiesce; it doesn’t matter a ra(F to me what’s inside the chest, I should never want to meddle with or disturb it, and I'd take very good care no one else did; I would gaglock the trap-door onto the roof, and that would settle that> Ah!’ I continued, after walking round. the structure and looking about me a bit—¢ ah! I see; precautions have been taken to prevent any access to this roof from others on either side, by this iron chevaux-de-frise; yes, no one can get over this. Well, it's an odd freak, but I am not sure that I am going to be balked by it; I’ll think about it, %\{r.,.Crumble.’?

And the result of .my thinking was, that I signed the agreement two days afterward, having conformed to the peculiar stipulation regarding the deposit. I had no fear of losing the thousand pounds; the interest on it was a mere addition of the rent, and the house was so exactly what I wanted that it would even then be cheap to me, with my large family of motherless children. ;

Nevertheless, I do not deny, that after all was signed, sealed and settled, I was conscious of a lurking curiosity and suspicion regarding that mysterious erection. Whai stra.nge frealk could possess the man to take such strong measures to guard against any penetration into the secret—measures, by-the-bye, which in themselves were rather calculated to provoke investigation, to draw attention to the very thing he wished one to overlook? Was Mr. Gayling a miser, hoarding up some unknown treasures in this strange fashion? Probably that was it. Wgell, if it was, it was no businéss of mine after all. My parliamentary duties would be too urgent, I hoped, to let me dwell upon much else, so I would dismiss it, and beyond putting the padlock on the trap-door of the roof as threatened, I took no measures to prevent any of my household indulgingin speculations. I at least would not direct attention to the matter, as Mr. Gayling did, and contented my family and domestics by saying that I didn’t consider it safe for people to go on the roof. - - Now, in spite of my resolution, I found myself %erpetually recurring to the strange chest. For the sake of quiet and air, I had appropriated the two large back ‘and front rooms at the top of the house for my bedroom and study, and thus slept every night just beneath the white chest. " Before I had been in the house a month, it began to act as a nightmare on me, an.incubus I could not shake off. I was oppressed and depressed by it in a way quite unaccountable. I was ‘puzzled at mySelf; I could not have believed four weeks before that I should ever have become so affected by such contemptible restlessness, disquiet and distrust. These feelings at last reached such a piteh that I finally changed my bedroom, I would not sleep any longer directly underneath this accursed fabric.

- Anotherr month passed, during which, more than once, I was tempted to go secretly on to the roof and look at the thing again; therd was no harm in that, that was not forbidden in the bond, and I need hardly say I saw nothing to provoke any new comment. About a week 'after my last visit to the roof, a lengthy debate kept me late at the House of Commons, and waiking home for the sake of fresh air, I fougg the midsummer dawn’ breaking, as I struck into Park Lane. Reaching Oxford street I was startled by observing in the western sky a strong light, not due to reflected sunrise. At the moment I saw it a fire-engine passed me at full speed, and presently the first sign of the commotion, which a conflagration causes in the streets, became evident. No man undergoes this experience, when he has been away from home many hours, and sees the red glare rising in the direction of his own house, 'without a pang of anxiety, if not terror. How well-founded was this sensation in the ({)reSent case was made evident ere I had walked another ‘two hundred yards; yes, merciful powérs!, it was my house that was on fire! I can searcely record what followed; I only know that somehow I found myself in the midst of thg&)olice and firemen. Thatl explained to the Superintendent who I. was, and that under his escort T soon ascertained that all the inmates of my house, my children, their governess, and the servants, were in safety, and had been taken into a neighbor’s at the rear; that as soon as I found this to be the case, I, accompanied still by the Superintendent, mounted to the top of an adjacent residence, whence the firemen were directing the hose upon the flames. Once on this vantage point m'zvmind reverted to the white chest. as it still there? Yes; the flames, though bursting out from all the windows of the upper stories, back and front, had not zet done more than wrench anfl crack portions of the filwss-case. For a time it seemed as if this would be the most that might happen. The water seemed to be getting the upper hand, and as it fell in torrents on the hot roof, such clouds of steam were thrown up with the smoke as would have completely hidden . everythi:g from view, but that our position h

been- skillfuliy seleeted, and was well to windward ofthe bvurning, mass. But /presently, amid the roar of the flames, ‘there came a dull, heavy rumble for a ‘moment, and down it went deep into ‘the utter obscurity of the dense smoke ‘and steam which alwsgls succeeds to this climax of a conflagration. For several minutes nothing was to be discerned through the overwhelming: wreaths of b%aek-iray fumes. But 'gres‘ently, chough the ;lifiht from the re had been quenched, there began to be visible, by the aid of the increasing light of the morning, the depths of this pit of Acheron. ¥$ it was not 80 very deep after all, for the fire having originated on the second floor, the f:fiing roof had only crashed down as yet as far as the drawing-room, and there, when my eyes had become accustomed to the spectacle of the indescribable debris, 1 plainly beheld, resting slantways across a stubborn remnant of wall, what had been the white chest; it was now split and smashed, and its contents were revealed/ Good heavens! .what was that I looked down upon? I turned my face away for a moment with a shudder, for there, protruding through the splintered fragments of its once creamy white wooden case, was a huge leaden coffin, which in its turn melting and bursting with the heat, ;displayedg within the unmistakable form of a shrouded corpse! I was in the act of drawing my companion’s attention to it in horror, when suddenly there flew up around it, with redoubled fury, such a mass of flame and smoke, that it was entirely hidden, and soon the fire had so spread and burst out again, that the horrible spectacle of this unintentional incremation was shut from sight, and the house was finally burned to the ground! ‘ - I pass over what immediately followed after I had made my way back to the friendly abode where members of my family were sheltered. In a few days they were snugly settled again in anpther home, fortunately not very much the worse for the terrible scare. In due course the time arrived for looking into my losses, and while I was doing so I received a letter.from Mr. Gayling, who had come to town requestin an intérview. I was glad of this, for% saw it must lead to some explanation of the strange circumstances surrounding the agreement 1 had signed. My curiosity as to the contents of the white chest had been rudely satisfied, it was true, but what had been the reason for placing such an object in such a place? and this I was determined to ' find out. Unexpectedly Mr. Gayling disclosed it to .me immediately as we met. I have asked for this interview, sir,” he said, abruptly, ¢ because I am a ruined man.”’ ‘¢ Bui,” I interposed, ¢“lam told you were fully insured.” ‘“That has nothing to do with it,” he answered; ‘‘no insurance can restore the three thousand a year which I lose by what hag happened. lam simply going to tell you certain facts : because, when ;you have them, I shall put it to you whether you will not, out of your ample means; feel that some compensation is due to me. The fact is, that it has been during your tenancy of my house, and through accident, or negli%ence, on the part of some one for whom you are responsible, that my ruin has been brought about.”?

¢“I don’t understand you.”’ ¢ Listen, sir,”” he went on, ‘and you will ; I was brought up to the sea, and followed it till mid-life, for I was entirely dependent on my own earnings. My only relative at this time was. an old uncle; also a sailor, and a most eccentric man; as you will presently see. Fifteen years ago he suddenly came into possession of a large sum of money ; I never knew how, but he retired and took that house. He_ had only been in it three years when a mortal sickness overtook him ; he sent for me. . S

“Tom,” said he, ‘I am dying, and’ I don’t like it; I am terrified, not so much at the thou%h_t of death, as at the thought of burial ; a sailor’s grave I would not mind, but to be boxed up and thrust into the earth, no, Tom, I won’t stand it. I look to you to see that it doesn’t happen; and I have taken measures to make sure that you do see that it doesn’t happen. I've made my will, Tom, I"ve left you all I possess, but on one condition, and it is, that you are my héir so long as I am well above ground, and no longer—mark the words, ‘‘well above ground.” Directly I #m buried, or my remains are allowed to mingle with motherearth, as she is called—she was no mother to me, the sea was my mother, for I was born at sea—all my money, mind, goes straight to the Seaman’s Hospital, every penny of it.’ : ‘¢ “But what am I to do? I.asked of my uncle; ‘how shall I be abie to carry out such a strange condition? Have you so expressed itin your will® *¢ ¢Yes, indeed I have,’ he answered; ‘and legal and binding:you’ll find it, as. expressed in the words, ‘“so long as I am well above ground.”’ - = ¢ ¢ But what am I to do with you? I again asked. . ¢¢¢Oh, run me up aloft, masthead me, anythinfi you like, but don’t bury me.’ *“Well,”” went on Mr. Ga.tyling, ““ to make a long story short, I found that the conditions of the old man’s will ‘'were binding and his gxecutors and myself hit upon the plan of hoisting the coffin on to the roof of his house. Under certain conditions we found that it ' was possible for us legally to do -this: i So I dismissed my three servants, employed a country undertaker, my old | ship’s carfienter and a foreign flazier, in order that the matter should not be talked of in the neighborhood, and persona.llysa’.w the arra.nfement carried out. You can now understand my rea‘sons for not having it meddled with; yes, sir, a.ng‘gou can now understand that the condition of the will must take effect. No sign of the coffin or the body even was to be discovered in the ruins of that house. I havehad s rigid search made, to no purpose; the old gentleman’s remains have been consumed, have mingled with motherearth, and the m‘oneg; passes as a matter of course to the lan’s Hospital. I have not a penny in the Wérlfl%. can you do for me?” = . It is not necessary for metosay what 14id for Mr. Gayling, but Anding by & Sl e R

visit to Doctors’ Commons, and by other evidence, that his story was substantially correct, I felt his case was a hard one, certainly a strange one, and 1 acted, I hope, not ungenerously toward him.—All the Year Round. —_—————— A Man’s Sensations When Freezing. In Kentucky, Dr. J. T. McMillan (a young dentist, who was returning from a visit to North ‘Middletown, a small country village situated about ten miles northeastfrom Paris), was found by a negro man who was returning home from Paris, in an insensible condition almost frozen to death. The following is the doctor’s own account of his journey and his ‘miraculous. escape from the icy clutches of the grim monster:

‘1 started from North Middletown at half-past six o’clock, with sufficient wrapping, as I thought, to protect me from cold. After having proceeded about three miles on my journey my feet became very cold. Bl' stamping my feet upon the bottom of the buggy limagined I was perfectly warm, as my feet troubled me no longer, and the cold sensations through my body ceased. I, however, felt dull and sleepy, like a man who is drunk. I didn’t care for anything. At this point I began to freeze, and ought to have known it, but felt so comfortable that I did not examine my situation. After [ had driven about three miles further mgr hat was blown off, but, being in a hurry to reach Paris, I did not stop te huntfor it. When I had proceeded perhaps a mile further, letting the reins lie in the bottom of the buggy and,paying no attention to my driving, mflorse shied off the side of the road and ran upon a large rock pile. 1 then attempted to get the lines and Eull him off, when 1 discovered that I ad lost the entire use of my right. and could barely use the left, hand; with this one I attempted to pull him off the rocks, but the buggy wheels being locked, I could not do it. I then got out of my buggy, «and in doing so struck the bridge of my nose across the wheel and cut it severely. I then went to ‘the head of the horse, took hold of the bit, and attempted to pull him around, but he would not move. Ithen commenced to unharness him, with the expectation of pulling the buggy off the rocks myself, feeling all the time very sleepy. When I had almost completed the task of unhitching the horse from the buggy, the desire for sleep became so great that I could bear it no longer, and I lay down upon the rocks by the side of the horse and ‘went to sleep. I must have lain there some fifteen or twenty minutes, when I was roused by the boy who found me. Upon his asking me where he should take me I told him to Paris, still not being aware of my ecritical condition. ‘Upon arriving in Paris my feet were "put in cold water, which, I think, entirely cured them, as they do not hurt me this morning. My left hand does not give me much pain, and I think will be all right in a few days; but my right hand was badly frozen, nothing seemed to do it any good, and I am afraid I shall lose tfiree, if not all four, of my’:fixii;qrs.‘ Last night when I arrived in Paris I could give no account of myself, but this morning I remember every incident.”

For Better or Worse. THE old man Bendigo keeps a pretty sharp eye on his daughter Mary, and many a would-be lover has taken a walk after a few minutes’ conversation with the hard-hearted parient. The old chap is stuck this time, however, and cards are out for a wedding. After the lucky young man had been sparking Mary for six months, the old gentleman stepped in as usual, requested a private confab, and led off with: i :

- ““You seem like a nice young man, and! perhaps you are in love with Ma:l‘%?" o : e " ‘“Yes, I am,”’ was the honest reply. ‘“ Haven't said anything to her yet, have you?”’ - o “Vgell, no; but 1 think she reciprocates my affection.” . ‘“ Does, eh? Well, let me tell you something. Her mother died a lunatic, and there’s no doubt that Mary has inherited her insanity.” “I'm willing to.take the chances,” replied the lover. ““Yes, but you see Mary has a terrible temper. She has twice drawn a knife on me with intent to commit murder.”’. : :

““I’m used to that—got a sister just like her,’”’ was the answer. ‘“ And you should know that I have sworn a solemn oath not to give Mary a cent of my property,’’ continued the father. ““Well, I'd rather start in poor and build up. There’s more romancein it.”’ The old man had one more shot in his carbine, and he said: | ¢ Perhaps I ought to tell you that Mary’s mother ran away from K my home with a ! butcher, and that all her relations died in the Poorhouse. These things might.be thrown up in after years, and now I warn you.’ g et L Mr.'Bendi%o,” ‘replied the lover, ““I’ve heard all this before, and also that you were on trial for forgery, had to jump Chicago for bigamy, and served a year in State Prison for cat-tle-stealix;g. I’'m going to marry into your family to give you a decent reputation! There—an‘thé,nks—%obd-by!”f ‘Mr. Bendigo looked after the yOung man with his mouth Wwide open, and wl}éan he could get his jaws together he sgigy -t ! e ‘Some infernal hyena has went and given me away on my dodge!’—Detroit F'ree Press. = = Sh e

—A writer in .a Boston paper complains of the freedom of conversation in. the street-cars of that city, and quotes the remark of % young lady, who said: “Well, [ haven’t heard enough about that engagement yet. I declare, I must go into town and ride in a Beacon-street car.”” e

—Practical Yankee: ¢ Well, yes, sir. I give in to gfou. Shakespeare was a genius. But he didn’t kinder seem to ut it to a practical use. Never bene_gte& ‘civilization with a washing-ma-chine, nor a patent turnip-peeler, nor anything of that sort. Still, he wasa spart man.’’ - :

- Youths’ Department. WAKING UP A BEAR. = BEFORE we children went to bed we begged good ~ Uncle Ben - . : To tell n:i how he once awoke a big bear in its { © aen, i Fain The good old man, he loved us so! he laid aside : 8 s 5 And, over his specs, at each of us he took a kindly. look. . ‘ Then he reached ont and lifted Sue, and 'pla.ced» | her on his knee; f And close to him he gently -drew my brother | Dick and me.: ot ¥ A fine old man was Uncle Ben. His beard was . .. . white and long, L : His limbs were big, his hands were rough, his. ~ shoulders broad and strong. , His voice was soft and tender, his eyes were gray and keen; A braver man than Uncle Ben no one has ever seen. ‘ : *‘Be silent as three little mice,” he said, and . then began i . The thrilling story of the bear; and, somehow, - thu itran: i s “It was in the far-off mountains, and I was e hunting deer; : : Wild woods were all around me, and not a house W4s near. i *Luck somehow was against me—l could not find a thing; ; i : Not a hoof or horn or flickering tail repaid my A . wandering, *1 looked and looked, I walked and walked among the trees and stones, Over sweet beds of moss and flowers, and sometimes over bones, A ** Yes, bones, my dears, where bears and wolves : had eaten dinners free, ; Of now a Foa.t, and now a deer, and now a man Ike me. s ‘‘Seeing these empty tables made me hungry pretg soon, . And I stopped to eat what lunch I had before ’twas hardly noon. -

“When I reached into my shot-pouch for my + knife and venison, 3 Lo, in the bottom. was a hole! My knife and meat were gone! “My bullets, too? ' Yes, all of them. Dear children I wassagd; = . For come what might, that in my gun was all the charge 1 bad. ** Just think of savage Indians who. would kill me for my hair! L Just think of wolves and panthers! Think of a grizzly bear! “And T V;‘lfl:f b'ut one bullet, no pistol and no , nife! , I never had felt so put out or so vexed in all my life. ** It was more than ten miles back to camp, the straightest I could go; , But back I started with my gun slung on my shoulder—so. P 2 “And now the deer, they frisked and played all ‘ round me as I went, . As if they knew just what that hole in my old : shot-pouch meant. *“They wagged their heads and tossed their tails G and pranced across the pa.th, At which, your dear old uncle’s breast could hardly hold his wrath. i *“I couldn’t shoot! 7%at bullet might save my life or hair, e I cha.nceg.e to meet an Indian or intrude upon a bear.

“And sur%;asngngh, a bear it was, asleep within' en . Beneath a shelving cliff of rocks, that startled Uncle Ben. **l came upon him all at once, whilst/clambering . (fi)own a bluff © £ Whose brush was low and thorny, and whose sides were steep and rough. : “I tried to stop but couldn’t, till I got right at his nose, . He yawned and winked, licked out his tongue, then growled, and up he rose, . *“0, such a bear! He was as big as neighbor Jones’ cow; With eyes that glared so terribly, I cannot show you how! : “ There, in that little hollow before that awful ' rute, : i ‘ With just one bullet, and_no knife, and scarcely room to shoot, > “I stood in blank bewilderment for the merest . breath or two. ! Thinking tglg;tever in the world was best for me \ O 7 “0, but his eyes were fiendish, and his teeth ; were white and strong, : His feet were broad and heavy, his nails were .~ sharp and long! \ o ** There were bones piled all around him in his s - shallow dismal den; : And there, no doubt, he meant to gnaw the bones of Uncle Ben. - “Isaw hmiqhed to eat me by the way he licked - jaws g | i As-he stood upon his hind feet and spread his ugly claws. : “And then he stepped forth toward me with a --savage snarl and snort; - ’ My heart beat like a ketftle-drum, my breath came quick and short; : “He reached to take me in his arms, his hungry i mouth he spread, . Hiseyes metgx fury sparkled, his tongue was fiery red. felt cold fear creep through my breast, I felt - . tlift my hair; T ‘There was need for rapla action, I had no time to 3 ( sp‘are g ‘ $ 3 i i *Bo, mustering all my nerve and strength, I raised my gun—and then— I ran off down the hollow! ' Now, kiss your Uncle Ben.' : : - —Maurice Thompson, in Wide-Awake.

‘fhe Wooden Candle. In the lovely valley of the Golden Mill the whiteriver Main flows between Berneck and Gold-kronach, amid some of the outlying hills of the miountain range, known as the Pine-tree Mountains (‘‘ Fichtelgebirge.”’) On the right side of the clear stream stand some farm-houses, several of which are situated on ‘rather high ground. - : ; - One of these farms goes by the name of Hasseltenthe. = Into the farm-house came, about forty years ago, a poor beggar boy asking' the farm-house peo}Jle.xf they would g;ve him a night’s odgin%. He would ‘be very than‘iful,he said, if he were allowed just to sleep on the bench that stood before the kitchen stove. The good farm peoyle did not like to refuse the poor boy’s request, and not only gave him the night’s shelter, but inviteg him to partake of some soufi they had for sugf\er. The little fellow placed his wallet underneath the bench and modestly took possession of his hard sleep-ing-place. A - As, however, it was not yet time to retire to rest, the .peoile\of the house went on with their work by the llifht of a kind of candle made of splinters, such as counn*‘fi'pe‘opl’e in ‘these retired sfiobs used at that time, as being mu‘c}x cheaper than lamp oil or tallow. . This splinter light was placed on a stand something in shape like a spinningwheel, and fastened to a sharp piece of AYOR. ) el ec R e s e

The boy from his nook behind the: stove every now and then came forward. tu try and make himself useful by attending to the liglht ; if the splinter did not burn clearly enough, he would snuff it and remove the snuff, and as soon as one of the wooden candles had burned itself out he would quietly set

another one up without any one telling himtodoit. R Bt

. Tho farmet's wito | gbserving this, took';ier husband aside and%fii&g; T . “Do you know I think gbmething . might be made of that boy? I can’t help thinking it would be'a good thing to keep him with us.”- S g The farmer ‘nodded; and said ‘ to the’ boy: ¢‘l say, my little man, why doyou: go about: begging; instead of earning yoor-livingP® .. 0. “1 should like to earn my living very much,” replied the boy, ¢ for lam sick and tired of begging; but: nobody pivesmuo work,™ - e s oo All the family looked up very pityingly at the poor beggar boy when he said this, and after "another pause the farmer said: I tell you what, my lad, we happen to be just. now wanfing a boy, and it strikes me you’d be exactly the lad to suit us.” e ““What!"’ cried the boy from his bench. ¢Do you mean that yow re’a-llg think -of keeping me,’ sir?”’ and wit that the little fellow burst into tears and sobs of joy. - . : From that time the poor friendless boy found himself.settled in a happy home, where he had food, shelter and clothing provided for: him; where the work was healthy and ot -too hard; and where he was instructed in the Bible and in all plain, useful knowledge. But you may be sure he would not have .stsayed ‘there "long if he had disdppointed the hopes his ' adopted father and mother formed of him when they first took him inj for though kind 'andy charitable people, the farmer and his wife were very strict and particular, ‘and if their servants behaved ill and showed no signs of repentance and a - wish to do better, they would say: ~ “We give you your choice—either you must obey the rules of this Godfearing family, or else you must go away and look out for some other master and mastress.” T

But by the help of God our little friend did not need to have such things said to him. He not only %a'.ve prompt and instant obedience to all the ecommands of his master and mistress, but attended to their.very looks, to find out what they wished him to do. Much did he do for them without being asked. 1t was not needful to wake him up in the morning; he would get up at a very early hour of his own accord. - If he had finished a task, instead of waiting about idle till anothey was set him, he would ask if there was anything he could do to help. ‘His was not the eyeservice of a man-pleaser; it -was dperformed from a right principle,@h his daily endeavor was that he;‘‘might be found faithful;"’ and by degrees he became a useful boy and a useful man, not merely to his master and mistress, but to everyone in the house. He became as & child of the house, but was far more faithful and loving than is many a son or daughter. The farmer entrusted to him more and more each day, and as the boy grew into a man used to ask his advice, and would often commit to his keeping most important affairs, knowing well how hah%:ly and carefully all would be undertaken. And this 'was the lad who had once ‘been a poor little ragged beggar boy, ‘and all this arose from his attending to this light, and trimming it when needful. P L ' What a lesson is here taught that he who is faithful in that ¢‘which is least will be faithful also in much!” : - Let us try and follow this good example, let us strive to be of use whenever we can, and we are sure, like this little boy, to find industry and trustworthiness rewarded even in' this world, —Exchange. = i

v : “I Won’ts? ONLY two brief words; but many times have I wished that I had not said them. They were spoken more than half a century ago, whenl was but a little boy¢ but I- have never forgotten them, All this time they have been a bitter ingredient in my cup. : I was playing with a boy about my own age in a dpond,of water, when my mother-called me to come to her. Not 8o much because I cherished a spirit of disobedience, -a8 to ‘exhibit my smartness to.my playmate, 1 rudely replied ** I won’t.”’ N_%hen" I met my mother at night, she gently reproved me, and all was forgiven and forgotten on her part. A year or two latter she died of a !consumption, prematurely worn out in cares and toils for her eight ¢hildren. - Many times have. I visited the dear spot where her mortal remains repose, and shed my tears at recollection of her; but. they have never availed to obliterate the memory of that unkind -act. Children should. be careful how they treat the mother ‘that bore them;. that cared for them during their tender years, and that has spent wakeful nfights"‘and weary ways in watchings and labors for their good. Npne ever regrets kindnesses done to this best of earthly friends; but many have sorrowed inconsolably for an abuse of her.—Cor. American Messen= ger. A e

Leading Governments- of the World. Or the leading Governments of the world fourteen are Constitutional Monarchies ‘and thirteen are Republics, while nine are desgo:isx‘ns. They may be enumerated as follows: = - - 1. British Empire, Qonstitutional. 2. Denmark, &nsfitflfipn&l. s ; 8. Norway and Bweden, Constitntional.. 4. Russia, despogg. } s 5. Holland and Belgium, Constitutional. 6. Hanover, Constitutional, . . G'ermnbmgfiéf‘%opsfimfim : 8. Switzerland, Republic, ) - 9. Austrian Empire, Constitutional. 10.- France, Republic. : : 11. Spain, Constitutional. - - 12, ortncdag. Constitutional. . e ,‘-15:,"1‘urkui:' mpire, despotic. | 15 Patain deupotie | oo i - hW gmi_ Beloochistan, Constitu--18., . Y fi v v ” : . le P i '.”,gqx?'afi_tufiona. | A 0-China, despotic. i o 21. (}finese'Embire."despohc. : B e . I R 2. Mexico, Republic, - . %}. gantrul Atßn:nm'_Revnblio. M 5 1 4 ] e. i i SERT y L & ot B ] hfii“fi %fio & chil hepible.* v | ‘BB3‘%' P'Mm h a & e - 86, Hagti. Republio, @2OO oo 000