Ligonier Banner., Volume 14, Number 21, Ligonier, Noble County, 11 September 1879 — Page 3

The Ligonier Banner, i P

WATERING THE HILLS. ** He watereth the hills from His chambers.”— Pe.clvi 18, Ox! the rippling and the foaming, ; Failing not from dawn to gloaming, - Where the rapids are descending, as for ages - theﬁ' have done; . . On each downward platform taking = . Just & moment’s rest. then breaking - Into sweet enchanting laughter at the gleeful i triumph won; riEn - All the latent echoes waking : i With the fun' ' Sweeping from their rocky portal, ; Robed:at once in light immortal, ; Bringing infinite revealings from the silences -profound; o How the little eddies whiten, { And the longer reaches brighten, . As the showers of brilliant dewdrops on their. silvery slopes rebound; ] Falling into gems that lighten ' : All around. : ey - When the sunbeams come unbidden To behold the marvel hidden, ; All the waters take them captive, to adorn their \ raiment white; . Sl But ghe rainbow tells the wonder /- Of the radiance lying under, G And the sun in regal beauty stoops to claim his __own'by right, - - Till the ripples fall asunder— Lost in light! : On the brink the mosses glisten, : ~ And the grasses stoop to listen . y To.the geveg—endmg music of the waters flashing by; : Overhead the elm-trees stately, ' In their hearts rejoicing greaé‘.éy G At the springs of welcome coolness that beneath ' their strongholds lie, j Spread their myriad leaves sedately . , ; To the sky. > ; When at night the stars assemble g In the far blue heavens, and tremble A}: their own reflected splendor, on the torrent borne away, - ? ; Tren the-langhing waves discover How the moon —earth’s timid lover— | - Watches for the perfect mirror they have broken . in their play; ~, Watcnhes—with the stars above her—s - Till the day. Through all seasons’ varied phases, Still the waters speak their praises Of the Power that sweeps them ‘onward, in their fullness to the deep; : All their rush and tumult guiding. ; . For each drop a path diyiding, : Till in far-off breadths of ocean each its destined place shall keep, : * And at last, in calm subsiding, ¢ Fall asleep. —Mary Rowles, in Sunday Magazine.

LITTLE GIRL. , PRETTY as picture. was Little Girl. Silky, faint-golden hair; eyes ** deeply, beautifully blue;’ lashes long and dark; lips daintily curved and red as strawberries, and the most angelic' expression of countenance—an -expression that artists often seek in vain when endeavoring to portray infantile saints or cherubim. ] Ethel was .the name that her sponsors in baptism unto her did give; but, being the only girl among ten children, as well as the youngest of them all, ¢ Little Girl”” she had been dubbed by her nine brothers, immediately on making her appearance in the familycircle, and ‘¢ Little Girl,”, with various fond adjectives prefixed, she had remained ever since. Never, I verily believe, in all this world, was child so adored by her father and mother—so worshiped by her brothers—so petted and caressed by her uncles, her cousins and her aunts—of -whom she had a great number—as Little Girl. She had actually gone through the first four years of her life without ever hearing an impatient word, much less receiving an impatient blow. But in the beginning of the fifth year Little Girl came very near learning the crisp, old English wprd ¢“spank’ and feeling the definition of it. And the way it happened was this: . Aunt Delia Steele, who lived in New York, came to visit Mrs. Raymond, Little Girl’s mamma, :that summer. She was a tall, fine-looking woman—girl she called. herself—with . great, heavy braids of jet-black hair—arched eyebrows to correspond—rosy cheeks and chin, and dazzﬁ)ingly white teeth. She owned to five and twenty, played. and sang tolerably well—danced, not badly—and talked upon many subjects with so much animation and so many shrugs of her sloping shoulders and flashes of her black eyes that you wondered why it was that you could never remember a single thing she said. Shortly -after her arrival at Raymond House—Mrs. Raymond. bye the bye, was only a half-sister, and as different as possible—being fair, short and rather stout—the following conversation took place between the two ladies one bright morning when they sat sewing together in the .cosy sitting-room: ~ Mrs. Raymond—Delia, my dear, it is really time you were settled. Miss Steele—As. if 1 didn’t know it, Minnie! And you’ve no idea how stingy pa is getting—raised an awful row about my last dress-making bill Ido wish I had accepted Will Hazelton. Minnie—Why didn’t you? Delia—l thought Harvey Young, who had a thousand a year more, was coming forward. -I'm sure he gave me every reason to believe he was—but he didn’t. ey v

Minnie (sententiously)—lf girls would only wait until the men they want did come forward before jilting the men who want them—— - " Delia—Yes, yes; I know all you were going to say. I've heard it a hundred times before, And there hasn’t a soul proposed to me since Will—that’s two years ago—except Mr. Beers, and I couldn’t marry him, you know—now could 1? He had a dreadful squint and Bix children. ok : Minnie (dropping her work and clgpgi:g Yher» hands)—l have it. klam an! : Delia—What a name! Who is he? | Minnie—A young farmer who lives a couple of miles from here.dmsk;noothg) ied a few months ago, and, I know he 'a?at‘g‘s .“zf%fe. G lg: '?as : hbus‘lx;afs‘v,j lands, cattle and money. Is decéntly well educated; tall, good-looking and generous. f i '

Delia, (with a grimace)—A farmer! I'm afraid I never could bring myself to love pigs and chickens. Minnic—~You’d have nothing to do with the pigs and ehickens. You'd have a splendid(fon;e and be near me and Little Girl (dwelling with fondness on the pet name). You'd better make up your mind to marry him, Delia. I'm sure you can if you ¢hoose. There's no oneé in. this place to tival you. He wants an - accomplished wife. He has

told me so. He’s a few years younger than you—— ’ Delia—But he needr’t know that. Minnie—Of course not. That is, he need not know how many. It may be your last chance, Delia, and it’s almost ood enough to be a first one. Nice gouse. fruit orchard, pony, phaeton—— Delia (interrupting)--Enough. Ring up the curtain. Enter Elam Bean. Minnie—l'll invite him here tomorrow evening. - She did, and he came and was smitten at once with the dark hair and brows, the rosy cheeks and chin, the wonderfully fine teeth and the brilliant conversation of the stately city lady. - He, himself, as Mrs. Raymond had said, was a tall good-looking young fellow, with broad shoulders, blue eyes, chestnut hair, a loud, honest voice and a hearty, laugh-provoking, laugh. Somebody in thevillage thought him very handsome—poor, little sLibbie Green, the dressmaker, who lived at Trumpet-vine cottage, the first small house after you passed Bean farm, and who had been a great favorite with Elam’s mother, and, in consequence, Elam having no sisters, had inherited the good old lady’s few old-fashioned trinkets. ’

Elam, too, had always been very kind to Libbie, and once—before he went to boarding-school—used to-call ‘her his little wife. But alas! . She had ‘been able to go to school only a very short time during her life, having always had a blind father to look after, and her reading was queer, and her writing peculiar, and she often said ‘“them’” ;when she should have said ‘“ those,” and just as often used ‘““went’’ in the place of ‘‘gone,” and it was the hardest work for her to remember that ‘‘two negatives are equal to an afhirmative;’ and she knew nothing of music or singing save a few old Methodist hymns which she was wont to sing, as she sewed, in a sweet, birdlike voice; and she had never waltzed nor galoped in her life, and wasn’t a bit ¢ stylish’ in her simple culicoes and muslins. : Y

Truth to tell, she was scarcely pretty, but she had a winsome face, and made you think of dandelions and daisies—friends of the grass and the clover. Elam had liked the little woman in times gone by very much—still liked her very much—but she possessed none of the graces and acquirements he had resolvegl his wife should possess. Miss Steele seemed almost the realization of his dreams—as near, indeed, as he could ever hope to come—and poor Libbie felt that her fate was sealed the first time they drove past her home in his buggy, looking smilingly in each other’s faces; and, laying aside the gray silk dress she was making, for fear the tears might fall upon and stain the shining fabric, she wept with all her heart ang soul full fifteen unhappy minutes. e

- A month had passed since the fair match-maker had brought the young farmer and her not-as-young sister together, and all' sorts of gayeties and pleasures had been crowded into that month. Pic-nics, drives, singing parties, dancing parties and reading parties, at each and all of which Miss Steele had queened it with her elegant costumes, her regal manner snd her many—for a country village—accomplishments. : . ‘I wish she were a little younger,” said Elam to himself one lovely August morning as he passed out of his gate on his way to call on his lady-love; ““for to confess the truth, I. would like to have my wife my junior; but she is so handsome—l never saw such hair and teeth—and so dignified and so clever, I'm sure 1 couldn’t do better, and I'll propose this very day. Ah! Libbie, good morning;’ and with a little twinge at his heart, for which he could not aecount, he strode past Trumpet-vine cottage, where poor, pale Libbie (her cheeks used to be as red as roses, he suddenly remembered) was standing, ’ostensib{v tying a fallen vinebranch to one of the pillars. of the porch, in reality waiting to see him pass. L = e

- As he entered the front door of Raymond House (which stood hospitably open) Little Girl—nurse was in the kitchen having a chat with the cook, and.the brothers had all gone fishing—with whom he was a great favorite, came joyfully running to meet him. ““Vey’s out,”’ she said, in her sweet, baby way, ¢‘few minutes to Mrs. Mills’. (Mrs. Lgills was the next neighbor, about a quarter of a mile away.) She’s goin’ to show vem her new dress. I ‘creamed to go, but mamma said a sick,‘ dir! vos vare; so me stayed home. Tell a story.” : 1 Elam lifted the pretty little thing upon his knee and gave her a kiss. “I'll tell you a story girectly,” hesaid. ‘“ How is Aunt Delia?"’ |

*“ Nacky Aunt Delia—don’t love her any more,”’ tossing the shining head. ““Don’t love pretﬁ7 Aunt Delia.?” - “ Ain’t pretty. er's a witch.” “¢<A witch” Why, what do you mean, Little Girl?” ; ‘ ‘You'll never tell,” said Little Girl, sta.nding up on his knee and grasping his head in her dimpled arms. ‘“ Never!” promised he, shaking himself free. . !

‘*‘ Vare vos comp’ny last night—lots —sBix, four, two. An’' vey put two strange chilluns in my hed—hollid chiluns—one had holes in her stockin’s, an’ mamma said I must seep wif Aunt Delia.. An’ 1 woked up when Aunt Delia comed up, an’ I looked at her, an’ her’s a witch—a hollid old witch. Vave’s one in my fairy-book Santa Claus gib me (Christmas.’’ : ‘“But why do you think she's a witch?’ asked ‘Elam, laughingly, as the child broke off in her story to kiss, him on the very top of his nose. : **Cause,” said Little Girl, with decision, ¢‘she is. - She tooked off all her hair, an’ ven she washed her face she had no red cheeks, an’ only one eyebrow; an’ all her teef fell out, an’ I vos 80 fraid I frowed myself out ve bed an’ runned to my - mamma. Wouldw’ g 0 o 0 00 But Elam hastily placed her u})on the floor, and, telling her he had forgotten something and must go home again, fled from the house, ta,a.k,ix;;g 8 path that did not lead to Mrs. Mills’, And the Ragmond family, much to their astonishment, saw no more of him. ¢‘He had been 'c’alled_awaj unexpectedly,” his old servant told the

messenger they sent with a note of inquiry. : But, two weeks after, the milk-boy brought-the news that Elam Bean had returned to Bean farm, and was married. ; “*¢ Married!?”’ almost sereamed Mrs. Raymond. ; ‘*Yes, ma’am, to Libbie Green, the dressmaker.”’ : ; ‘“ What ever could have possessed him?’ she said a few moments after to Miss Steele, who was packing her trunk preparatory to starting for New York. i 1 “I'm sure I can’t imagine,” replied that dark-haired lady, with a scornful curl of the lip. ‘ ; 3 . If she could have imagined father, mother, ' grandmamma, nine brothers and all the uncles, cousins and other aunts would have been unable to restrain her avenging hand, and Little Girl would have certainly added ‘‘spank’’ to her rather limited vocabulary, with a painfully realizing sense of the meaning of the word.—Margaret Evytinge, in Detroit Free Press. :

Fearful Effects of a Nitro-Glyeerine T Explosion. : ABOUT one o’clock this morning the citizens residing in the vicinity of Red Rock and Bell Camptown, on the Olean, Bradford & Warren Railroad, about six miles from this city, were aroused by a noiseresembling thunder, followed by a'shock like that of a violent earthquake. The peculiarities were immniediately recognized to be thoge of an explosion of nitro-glycer-ine, and stores of people were attracted to the scene of the catastrophe. It was then learned for the first time that two human beings had probably been blown to atoms, but in the darkness nothing could be found save a few remains of a buggy and two horses. At early daylight the vicinity of the disaster was thronged by a large crowd of people. Upon the surrounding trees, fences, and scattered everywhere on the ground, were found clots of blood, fragments of human flesh, pieces of skin, and other evidences that: told only too plainly of the terrible destruction of human life. The accident occurred at a locality known as Ham Hollow, a prolific section of the Bradford oil-field, one and a half miles from Bell Camp staafﬁlon. There were two men Kkilled, Lewis Gray, aged twenty-seven, and Charles C. Jones, ?g%d twenty-one, both living in Bradord.

‘Gray, who was in the employ of the King Torpedo Company, had procured two pounds of nitro-glycerine and was driving with it to a well which he was about to torpedo on the Neal & Baum tract. Shortly before reaching there he awakened Jones at a neighboring well, and the two rode together the rest of the way. Arriving at the well, it is supposed that Gray, in lifting one of the three «ans in which the explosive was carried from the buggy, in some way lost his hold and the terrible stuff fell to:the Eround, exploding on the instant the other cans.

- George Weaver, a driller, who was standing at the well two hundred feet distant, saw the men. driving up the hill, and almost immediately felt the force of the explosion coming. He laid down flat upon the ground and barely escaped with his life, fragments of stones and other substances passing over him. Of Gray there was not a vestige left that could be identified as belonging to a man, being scattered on the hill-side for many rods in all directions. Jones was not quite so badly demolished. His head was torn entirely from the trunk, and the body itself was a shapeless mass of mutilation. One of the legs was blown off, and both arms were reduced to shreds. ; Both of the horses were reduced to fragments, and the only parts of the buggy that were left were the iron axles and one tire. A large hole, several feet deep and two feet in circumference, was made in the road where the accident occurred. Gray’s father, mother and sister live in Kansas City. Jones’ relations reside in Beaver County, Pa. —Bradford (Pa.) special to Phiadelphia Enquairer. :

The Power of Speech Lost and Suddenly Recovered, A cASE which completely bafiles the doctors and shows how m{steriously lost faculties may be suddenly restored has just come to notice in this city. Mr. H. Tallert, 2 man about sixty years of age, has lived in Chicago twentythree years, and is well-known. He now keegs a wine room at No. 93 Fifth avenue, but until recently was in the same businesg at No. 161 East Washin%’ton street.. On the last day of last February he fell down the basement steps of his place of business, at the latter numbert‘gnd injured himself so that he was taken sick, and in three or four days he lost his hearing in the right ear, though retaining it in the left one; but, worseé than that, he lost all power of speech. The loss of these faculties was instantaneous and not gradual. All at once he lost his power to speak, and lost it short, sharp off. Of course, such a calamity fillled him with .consternation, and he quickly sought medical aid, but with no relief. ‘The difficulty lay in his inability to use his tongue. It lay a helpless member in his mouth, and he could not move it. For months and months he tried all kinds of remedies, and during all that time his only means of communicating with others was bzwntmg what he wanted to say. In the meanwhile he had given up all. hope of ever recovering his speech. About ten days ago the hearing in his right ear was restored as instantaneously as it was lost, and as perfect as it was before it was lost. Z{‘,his was something of a relief. But what was his intense astonishment and delight to have, at ﬁfteeg minutes past ten on last Thursday, his power of speech instantly restored after havinﬁbeéndepﬁved of it for six, months! He vlviﬁ,,in. his wineroom , attending 'to his duties, when suddenly he felt a peculiar sengation in his mouth, at the root of his tongue, ,tl,;ong ~the sensation was not at all ‘}pain,__ul. He tried to stick out his tongue, succeeded, and then fried to ag:ak He succeeded in this also, and the whole thing was over, At first speech was-a little difficult, but it beoame easier soon, and on yesterday,

when & reporter saw him, he was able to converse with entire flueney, barring # very slight thickness in the tone. His speech was entirely unimpeded before he lost ‘it, and he expects to have it as well as ever in a day or two—when he gets the hang of it again. . Mr. Tallert's remarkable recovery has been the cause of unbounded astonishment ameng the physicians. Many have called to see him, but none have been able to explain the mystery.— Chicago Times. L

Kissing the Baby. WHILE Colonel Allen was discussing National finances, Colenel Tom Crittenden quietly slid down off the platform and circulated among the crowd. He wore a delicate white duck suit, blue necktie, and patent-leather pumps, and was the eynosure of all female eyes. on the premises. Colonel Tom, with an eye to’ business, began ogling the babies. - P v . “+Oh, you sweet little darling,” said Colonel Tom, addressing a fuzay, popeyed brat that lolled lazily in his mother’s arms under one of the treesy ‘ how old is it, ma’am?”’ - ; ‘¢« Four months, sir,”’ said the fond mother. ‘A little girl, eh?” said - Colonel Tom. ' , ® ““No, a boy,”’ replied the mother. ¢ Ah, yes, now that I come to look at it ntore closely, I detect the strong, manly features of a boy,”” the Colonel hastened to say. ¢‘Please may I kiss the little cherub?’’ . , Colonel Tom shut his eyes and exploded an osculatory sound on the fuzzy face, and the child put up a big lip and threatened to ery. - ~ ¢“He is such a beautiful ehild,”’ murmured Colonel Tom, *‘such eyes, such a: head, such an expanse of forehead, such a mouth, such a wealth of complexion, such a sweet, tranquil expression!”’ ; : “¢“ La me, you don’t really think so, do you?”’ simpered the flattered mother. : ‘I never saw a sweeter little cherub,” said Colonel Tom; ‘I believe I'll have to kiss him again.”’ Having gone through a second osculatory martyrdom, Colonel Tom assumed a seraphic look—a look calculated to strike taffy to the most hardened feminine heart, and got right down to business. L . “I'm a candidate for Governor,” said he, ‘“ and nothing would give me greater joy than to feel assured that I had the support of the father of this sweet babe. Come, let me hold the little darling in my arms. I do think he is just the sweetest little angel I ever saw!" : The flattered mother. gave up the fussy - baby with profuse apologies about its not being well dressed, etc., hoped it wouldn’t trouble the gentlemap, efe., glad to know he admired it so much, ete. The fussy baby writhed and squirmed. and grew red in the face, and wrinkled itself all up and belched a trifle; and then lay calm and composed on Colonel Tom’s strong right arm.: - ‘ ¢ The little precious!’ cried Colonel Tom. ¢ You'll fell his father how much I thought of his little cherub, won’t you, ma'am? And you'll tell him I’'m a candidate for Governor, eh, ma’am.”’ : : The poor woman’s face dropped, and big, salt tears came into her eyes. ¢ Oh, sir,”” she said, ¢‘ youdon’t know what you ask--my poor husband died of the jaunders two months ago.””

There was a far-off look in Colonel Tom Crittenden’s golden-glinted eyes as he gently but firmly dumped that fuzzy baby on the bereaved woman’s lap and walked straight back to the platform and replaced himself on a bench. —SB¢. Louts Times-Journal.

Nordenskjold’s Trinmph.. . IN addition to accomplishing the object of the expedition, the discovery of a northeast passage, Professor Nordenskjold has openedg to the commerce of Europe the valleys of the three great Siberian rivers—the Obi, Yenisei and Lena. The Obi is 2,000 miles in length, and the Yenisei 2,500, and each drains a great' basin. The Lena, the la.rFest river in Siberia, is 2,400 miles in length, and 800 miles from the ocean is five or six miles wide. On these rivers are Yakutsk, Yeniseisk, Tomsk, Omsk, Jobolsk, and other centers of the Siberian trade. Professor Nordenskjold’s several voyages have demonstrated that a remunerative trade can be opened with all these points. Even the experimental voyages of 1875 and 1876 were profitable, and since that date a prosperous trade has grown up between the Yenisei ports and Europe. This demonstrates the practical vafue of the new route in one direction, or toward the Atlantic. The voyag; of the Vega from the mouth of the Xenisei to the Lena was made without difficulty. This indicates the practicability of the route from the Lena to the Atlantie. And we have Professor Nordenskjold’s statement- that, for experienced sailors, the' route from the mouth of the Lena to Japan presents no difficulties in the proper season. There is an outlet for the fur trade of Northern Siberia, ' either toward the Atlantic or the Pacific, and the results of Professor Nordensﬁjold’s work will show in the future. He has done what no other man has ever done, and, when he sailed out into the Pacifie, he took his place among the great discoverers and navigators of the world.—Chicago Inter-Ocean. B

- —A certain Scotch country minister removed from one parish to ‘another, and on ‘Sunday ‘“exchanged’ with his successor in . his - former chajrgel, At the close of the service an elderly woman inquired whas had bécome of her *‘ain minister.”” ¢ Oh, we're exchanging,” he replied; ¢‘he’s with my peo‘f) e fo-day.” ¢ Indeed, indeed,” said the matron, ‘‘they’ll be gettin’ a treat the day.” ° . ‘ —Strange things will occasionally haégpen. A deaf mute, aged seven, residing at Lancaster, Pa., aud who had never uttered a sound, was run over by a 'wagon a tewé'aiays a%;) . He was not geriously injured, and the singular fact is that when he found himselt wnder the feet of the horses he cried out lustily. His parents now hepe he will recover: his speech, ¥ _ i

N .l e Daloag o , sy b s s o . Youths’ Department. f & ; , ADELAIDE RETURNS FROM THE ‘ ‘ COUN TR Xa : T T ' Wrote last summer, and said ! To: mL‘IA B * Just lend me my niece Adeide. . : ; * Let her stay just as long- : As she likes, and gow strong ! In the country. I’ll keep her from all sorts of’ woong. - . . . " She shall frolic and play, ety et o nd:nﬁqot?lgrh’ifa and me ‘jol ay—mW]Drinls: mli’flz and grow }at, ; Hunt eggs and all that, Y And come back plump and fresh as a granary r&t. ¥ 3 Dear little friends,l : - Take my pen up to try : To tell you my summer’s exﬁmence. Why, , 1 thought twould be fun; : 1 don’t know how 'twas done, ; But the moment I gut there my troubles begun. The first thing was the ¢ow. .. 1 didn’t see how N | They milked her. I tried, and she made a great. TOW: . , . Her feet in the air, - i Her tail everywhere, : My cousine a-langhing. I den’t think "twas: Tﬁ; pigs were a sight! The la.xg;bs were not white, As thequtr;e in the pictures.. The hens weren’t poiite, I never intended ! $ To make them offended ; But I dttiaél you 'twas awful the way one old hen

Because, just for funm, ] 1 tried to caieh one - : Of heé chickens. But, bless you! it never was one; | - Fot she rose und she rose, : And she opened her nose - Right at me. 'Twas frightful, as you may sup- - 'And they all, just for spite, ~ Hid their eggs out of sight; I never g(tmld find them. That surely wa'n't ' rignt. ¢ = - I have no idee : ; .. What their reason could be For being so very uncivil to me. S Some one is mistook; - ; . . For the barnyard don'’t look ; A bit as it aid in the **Second Reading Book,” Where dear Mary stands, 4 With the dish in her hands, : And the fowls seem to hear and obey her commands, - But I wanted to do . As dear Mary did; so 1 fed them one morning, or tried to. Oh! oh! . I bhad on mg red sash, —*And the gobbler went dash! And sent me down into the water-trough, splash! - . lasked Cousin Marie : How it ever could be : That the butterfiies made such nice butter? Dear me! : She langhed till I thought . . Ishould die on the spot. It is cruel to laugh at mistakes. Is it not? 5 There was no babbling brook, | : And no shady nook, ‘ Full of violets. 7'hat’s in the poetry book. . - 1 And the new-mown hay—well, . I'm sure it don’t smell 7 As it czole’s in the bottles. Of course, you won’t ell, ’ . There were more just about . ; Such trials, nodoubt. _ o You car%. sec 'twas sufficient to quite wear.me ; out. : b 1 am very much grieved, For I always believed : In the country. It's dreadful to be so deceived. Now I and my dolly, _ Sweet Claribel Molly, G Are back in dear Boston. 1 tell you it's jolly. The country may smile (In the books)'all the while; - But we ld'on't; like the country. It isn’t our style! : —Carlotia Perry,in N, Y. Independent, :

... BRANE, BrAVE was'a wise dog that lived in Alton, Maine. He belonged to the oldest boy in a family of ten children, so you see that he’had a good many little masters and - mistresses; but he loved them all dearly, and served them faithfully, and protected them, and defended them whenever they needed him, until he died. - There is many a pleasant story to tell of him, for though he was large and strong, he was so gentle and good—manuered that the neighbors and the schodl children would say, ‘‘What a good dog Brave is!”’ When the baby was learning to walk, she wculd pull herself up and cling to his back, and he would wag his tail and look lovingly around at her, and walk slowly and softly about with her, accommypdating himself to her uncértain step, .Ang once, when she lost her hold and fell back, he expressed the tenderest sympathy for her, and licked her bumped head until she laughed with delight again. | ‘I am goingto tell you one story about Brave. : ; '

Once,when Nan and Nell were strawberrying down by the stream in the meadow, the sheep got out of the pastare and came trooping past them, with the cross old buck at their head., The little girls dropped their baskets and ran, for they knew he would attack almost anything he saw, and only a few days before he had broken ‘the neck of a neighbor’s buck in a fight. There was a large stump near, upon which they ¢limbed and sank down breathless, but they were ready tofaint with fear when they saw that he had stepped put from the flock and followed them, and was stamping and shaking his head, and wmaking other threatening signs. : kel For a moment they hoped his attention was taken by the baskets they had dropped, but after smelling of them and finding nothing to his taste, he put his head down and charged upon the stuimp. The shock almost sent them off, and a large piece of rotten wood dropped out of the side of the stump and fell off. G : The children were frantic. The wide flat stretched west nearly a half-mile, then, there was a hill, and oh the top of this was their home. Theycould only see the back of the barn, ancﬁth’ere was | no one etirrix:’% in sight, 1o Ve g - Again the old buck came o, and the stump, shook to its foundationy, Theg were certain that it .could _ng\; stand. many such assaults, and thgy. ere in the %e’mst fear of famnﬁo AR “Oh,” sobbed Nan, **if we hsd only taken Brave!” and at thought of +him ‘she drew up her breath in sheer desper‘ation, and imitated the peculinr, ierc: ‘ing whistle, by which her bmlbi:i\: ways called the dog from a distance, | - 'Then she strained her eyes towyrd ‘the house, but oh! /it was so far, and it seemed so hopeless! Again the bu struck the 'stump, ‘M*Wb@ ‘ Nell’s screams, she called louder tha before, and whistled for the deg. .. | - And this time through her tears what did chiou:la‘ee? W wit,.ag’ahtgns b&% ing with lightning spee wn th ' ht;ﬁ«. ‘ar eolﬁ: &h&w coming? And now it has reached the flat, and in A | straight line . for them; hugging the ‘ground it comes flying agross. .

- Nearer and' 'nearer, and faster “and faster it came, until the old buck, just gathering himself for: another taprmg. s was suddenly rolled into a heap on the ground, and amid the joyous cries of the children; and the hoarse growls from a strong mouth ‘that was tearinﬁ : the wool from his throat, he scramble to his feet and scampered away with | the frightened flock. * - And Brave trotted back to thé thankful children, wagging his tail, and licking their tearful faces as they hugged him, and when they had pickeg up their - baskets and made = themselves \ ready, he escorted them proudly home. —Anna Boynton, in Youth’s Companion. -

A NEW YORK paper, in a recent local item, tells a touching story of female destitution, in which it says: - Mrs, i eyes u%ﬁ;vlv)%ci)gtggugi %ﬁtﬁr&;my :3)2% sixteen years old. ‘'l want to save him and m eleven-year:old ful I have pawned or solg every article of furniture and clothing T could, but lam at'last penniless.”” .~ : =="This little remark is a sermon for the boys. Stand up, bo%s,,‘ and listen to your catechism. ¢ What is your name?”’ ¢ John.”” «“Who gave you that' name?” . «“My" * mother.”’ Xyes, my good boy. There is where your ﬁoo name comes from. She.may ave switched you for eating green aﬁples;; but she served you right. If she ever gave you a gentle little fiveminutes’ “admonition with a hickory limb for telling her ¢ I won’t do it when she asked you to do something, she conferred a blessing on you. You ought to .be flogged for refusing one moment’s happiness to the good old woman who risked her life for yours when you were born, and whose constant care of you has been a labor of love ever since. iy .

The point of -the aforesaid remark is that we don’t think much of thatsix-teen-year-old boy that she wanted to - save. You boys know that when you are sixteen years old . you are ‘“big enough and old enough and ought to know better” than to allow your mother to try to ‘“save’’ you. The boy of that age who allows herto stand, with tears in her eyes, hunger in her mouth and sorrow in her heart, trying to save him will never make a nan. ;s

A son of sixteen should, in- case of necessity, help his parents, rather than . ask them to bhelp him. This country of ours,-crowded with commerce, has many an.opening for a young man . who i willing to be “useful. A dollar here and there, the result of honest labor, is easily laid away. And the- - labor asked of these good lads is not severe, nor -does it take all their time. . They ean enjoy recreation, and still have leisure for evening schools. George Stephenson’s son found time to . work - and play and study and help to . educate his father into the invention of the locomotive engine. It ought to. make you shudder, young man, to. think of that lad's honest work, and: then thi‘nkawlt'at this world might be-to-day without a, railway in it. There is not, in all our country, a. boy of sixteen who cannot help his. parents as much as they can help him. If they have money and worldly sta--tion enough to enable him to spend: time in cunltivating his mind, he is. blessed. If they have not, and he uses. his hands and wits to hel‘f them, thend are they blessed indeed.. If your father or mother lack for this world'sgoods, don’t touch a penny of theirearnings, but scek to add to them. That will be indeed treasure laid up in. Heaven.— Burlinglon Hawkeye.

How Bears Help - Each Other. I wirL:tell you how they entrap. bears in Russia. - A pit is' dug several: feet dees. This is covered over with turf and_ leaves; then some food: is: placed on top. The bear, if tempted: by the bait, easily falls into ' the snare.. But, if four or five happen to fall in.together, they all get out again. = ‘““ How do they do that?”’ you will ask. I will tell you. - Theyform asort of ladder by stepping on one another’s. shoulders, and thus making their escape. . | S i * ¢ But how does the bottom bear get: out?’ Ah! these ‘bears do not leave the bottom bear -to perish. . Seampering off, they bring the branchof a.tree,. which they let down to. their poor brother. ﬁe' soon ' elimbs. up, and is: free along with the rest. = .0 Bears, you see, behave betten-then. some selfish men we heaxr ;aboui,, whoreceive help, and then forget the help~ or.—Nupdery.” [ R T

<" He Thought e, . - THE man in charge of thebig engine: at the Water Works realizes that he ‘has-a euriosity for miost visitors; and when callers express surprise and: interest he feels pleased. The other da; a stranger came in for a lpok "aro_unn{ and his general make-up satisfied the engineer that he was a person of deep thought and a man to appreciate the merits of monster machinery. The stranger viewed the engine from every side and angle, ‘and sat 'down. ' Then he reviewed it and took - anothet : ress. Then he walked avound the bww a wise way and came back fo%:nm_ r inspection. For. two*itong urs’ he hardly had: his eyes off 'the":ponderous machinery, buat was at-last mgm go. Taking one last look he walked up to the engineerand safd: ° 7 ‘‘Say, mister. this'eréiiijjie’ rans by steam, don s P 0 o il apnens of .+ “Why, of course,” was the amased ans%m, b ordbaceatsab agodt ot Wl X thought 59 more'sh Balf an ‘hour dgo." continned -the mial, “*‘buat it’s just as well to'be "sure -about these mm ﬂg:h@:‘e&a‘reﬁimnw ) “;?lg: al,' 4 w- 3T s TN s arintn "oF hOURg Datndlt - Toses. oL doniitbg IBHY BG) o nals ~—When a young mar -f‘wg@'_ﬂn‘ mall salay propses o o of the” o oite sex witmé “smail am“ﬁﬁgot‘h minon sense, he generally reoeives:’her: eonsent to starve her to. death.—Elmira Qoaeiey 1l waloiniigaides W o) - —Sunday-School teacher:*! Youust recollect; that all 1 sm. tglling you hap- * M Qne shonsg w'tg‘ mﬁ" ::ven nine yean ~_.;” upii: “Lor’, migﬁ’%ﬂ 0 time do slip awayt et eot S pnak. Toisaan