Pike County Democrat, Volume 27, Number 11, Petersburg, Pike County, 24 July 1896 — Page 3

■Jilt §' ifet Count tj 2 rmocrat M. McC. STOOPS, Editor and Proprietor. PFTET?«)BTTT?0. TXmAXA. FEMININE FASHIONS Xtetuui of Interest tar* 1m*11m Who Keep in Style. , Dress skirts are cut slightly shorter than those of last season, but they are '-quite as full from the knees down, and fit the figure closely on the front and sides below the waist. There iis a decided dwindling of the sleeves o;n the most correct of Parisian tailor-gowns, but for evening and dressy afternoon toilets there is a full single puff. On demi-dress gowns tb,« wrinkled portion of the sleeve is encroaching upwards on the region of the puff,! which indignanyy asserts itself in a little compact globe about the shoulders, or gives way with good grace to the single, double or triple frill. If <bnly we are &ept from going to extremes in the matter of frills, it will

prove a pretty change of fashion. Creamy exquisite .patterns in Vandyke, Lietrre, Venetian ami Renaissance point laces art? laid over beautifully tinted chiffons bn elegant evening waists made to wear with skirts of satin, taffeta, or brocade. The rose-<*olored, pole yellow, golden gre<^t or pink chiffon forms a lovely background for displaying the intricacy and beauty of the lace. The full chiffon puffs are more than half covered with a fall of the lace and a niirrytv frill of the same finishes the . sleeves just below the elbcfw. White silk blouses crossed with black are made with similar puffs, with very £fch guipure lace falling over the chiffon. Coetnxhe* of pure white, from the plain taffeta of silk orcrepon parasol to the tip of the shoes, will be one of the prevailing fashion# in summer dress, and they will be worn morning, noon and night in all the varying grades of elega manor simplicity. The vtfry useful and comfortable bi% cycling glove, mode in silk or lisle, tits the hand perfectly; the gloves have a rpiiifiini!-!! leather nn’in find reinforced leather palm and make a practical and yet easy glove for the purpose intended. It has three nodal clasps on sires fur ladi-s’ wea*^gnd pne or two clasps on glofes for menSJ'he colors "are mostly in red. brown, ffan, seal ajgd dust gray. > J The,round waist blossoms out afit-sh on toilets ami costumes of every sort anti for every possible occasion. It makes the short, stout woman groan to see wh:^f charr ing things are this season achieved with these pretty waists, yoked, plaited, bloused, 'berth tied, frilled and puffed. But who but a slender woman could carry off these distinctive and ornate styles with any sort of grace? Dressy puffed sleeves for afternoop as well as evening wear reach only just below the elbow, where they arc finished either with a twist and bow of black velvet ribbpn, or a deep frill of lace, reaching nearly to the wrist. Sleeves of transparent material are lined with tarlet.on to keep them in place. Wjhen black velvet ribbon is used at the neck, .belt andj wrists, black Suede gloves are worn w ith the toilet.—X. V. Post.

FANCIES IN JEWELS, Blrd», Hfc« Hud ItuUrrtUvi Art' Fashion* nblr. A spider, a bee. a butterfly and a •wasp of sparkling iridescent emeralds and sapphires and topaz adorn the neck of;beauty as lace pins. One swallow may not make a slimmer. bujt a flight of ^wallows assuredly makes a gift of no. small value and be,autv. when made of the* most jrlittering tiri|iiants. And not alone is such nn ornament lovely to gu/e upon, but it is exceedingly useful. Each swallow. there are five, can be separated and worn either as a brooch or ns.an ornament for th -h^ir. It is the most proper thing ju*t now to adorn the coiffure with diamonds, and an eminently becoming fashion. A fanciful little pin is the robin redbreast u j on a branch of leaves and berries; the robin lias jeweled wings with which to mount upward and ajvtay and his: breast is enameled with iriidescent red. An odd conceit is a white rabbit, his body all pearls. Ins pink eyes are.of the balas ruby, and his lonp. longears. they too are pearly w it 1, a f\\ _•-ti'on of pink abont their tips, the pink of the ha las ruVn, which by the way. belongs to the spinel class. Said little rabbit, perched UjH>n his hind legs, upon a gold l»ar. is gazimr upon a butterfly all t glistening with yellow and purple with golden beryls and amethysts.—Philadelphia Press.

A (iood Salad. A choice salad for a company lunch--eon is made from sweetbreads and cucumbers. Soak a pair of the sweetbreads in cold salted water for three-quarters of an hour, then cook until tender in boiling water containing a teaspoouful of Ivinepar and a half-teaspo^nful of salt*. After taking from the lire, drop a minute into cold water to hardon. eut out the pipes,nndeut the breads into small pieces. Set away in the- refrigerator, and when ready to serve iris with two cold cucumbers, cut in very thin slices. Iibess with mayonnaise and serve on a bed of lettuce, in the halves of cucumbers hollowed out for castes, or in the center of tomatoes, —X. Y. Post.

seem if I couid have all the money Ihave given to charity piled on a plate before me? Mrs. Boastful—I think you could still distinguish the plate.—Detroit Free Prew. * Couldn't WaitBingo—Come, hand over that box ©1 cigarettes and never let me catch you smoking them again. Bobbie—Ae box W empty, pop “Then run out and get me another 4K>e."—Truth.

A LITTLE EEBEL BY Y. C. H ABB ACC 11.

BED MASON was a Ley who lived in the beautiful Mo^ hawk valley during the war of the revolution. He was a stout, aetive lad of fifteen, always on th? alert and at all times ready to

do something lor • the cause of liberty. -At times the valI ley would fall into the hands of the • British* and tories, and the boys of the Mohawk were not peimitted to make known their sentiments. The allies were both cruel and watchful, and woe to the American household that gave aid and encouragement to the patriots. Not far from the Mason home stood the house of one of the bitterest of all the Mohawk tories. The man was Jason Sargent, and whenever*his people held the valley he i would signify his approval of their atrocious deeds by raising a British flag | upon a staff near his dwelling. The flag waving in the breeze became an eyesore to the patriots, but they ; dared not molest it for <Var of tory vengeance. They could only hope that the fortunes of war would turn against the enemy, and that another standard, fairer in their eyes, jvould greet the light of day from the top of the tory’s I pole. No one haCed the flag more than young Obed. lie could see it from the window of the attic where he slept, and it was the first thing that greeted his eyes in the morning,after a night c-f sleep., lie watched it for months, and then the return of the patriot army seemed as far off ns ever. * ' “Jason Sargent will ’ose his flag one of these nights,” said the little rebel of the Mohawk, one afternoon, to his mother. “Some one will spirit it away, and then the tory of Sargent house will have to coax another from Sir John Johnston.” “Jason guards it well, my son.” was the answer. “He will t a ke good care of his prize, and I fear it will float on the breekes till our people come back and take possession of the valley again.” But the boy had formed a plan for the capture of the obnoxious banner, and that night be retired Sr his little attic with a good deal of excitement. The last thing he saw, as he put out

tht‘ candle, was the flap- wavmp a pains* the starry- sky over Jason Sargent's yard, but he did not throw himscli upon his l>od. Obed's father was in the army with Gen. Schuyler, the famous patriot, anti he thought that if he could capture the flag waving so defiantly from Jason’s staff, he would be doing the cause of liberty an excellent service. When the little household below stnirs became quiet, the patriot boy slipjKxl down the ladder which led from the; attic and thence from the house. The night was quite dark, for but few stars were seen in the sky, and these at times were lost to view behind banks of clouds that drifted from the west. It did not take Obed long to reach the premises occupied by the tory, and he stopped near the flagstaff and looked np at the emblem which defied the “rebels” of the Mohawk. The flag itself w as a lit tle higher than the roof of the Sargent house and fioatex? from Hhe end 6f a strong jn>le which w ould 1 »-ar the w eight of a jierson stouter than Obed. He listened as he waited in the dark shadows of the house, for the tory was in. the large room, making merry w ith a number of neighbors of his own faith, and Obed’s keen cars caught the sound of laughter mingled with the clink of their glasses as they drank confusion and defeat to Washington and his brave men. Above all arose the harsh voice of the big tory, ns he told hoW his flag had waved defiance in the very faces of the patriots, and bow he Intended to keep

THE TORY LOOKED UP. ,t floating from the pole "till the last rebel in North America had laid down his arms." "We shall see about that. Master Sargent," said Obed in a. whisper. "That’s a prophecy which may not hold good till morning. The worst little rebel in the Mohawk valley may bring your boost to naught.” As the merriment of the party inside grew more boisterous, the boy glided to the pole and looked up. , Nimble of foot and a good climber, he looked at the house with the curtains well dr wn and the long veranda deserted and still. In another moment Obed Mason was climbing toward the British ensign, and hand over hand he pushed his way upward, now and.then casting a look to the ground, as if he expected to see the {root door of the old-fashioned house , fly open and disclose the boastful guardian of the flag. | But fortune seemed to fares* the boy | rabal of the Mohawk, for mt,last. wrap

pin;? his legs alxmt the pole wh$e lh* roof of the house he found that he could reach the flag- J As yet the only sound that pame to him was the noises made by the revelers; afftd this pleased him, for he felt that as long as they kept it up in Jasou's parlor he was safe. Obed took out his knife, sharpened that afternoon for the occasion, and began to cut the flag loose. He knew thal one of Jason’s vouag friends had nailed it to the pole, and he soon discovered; that it had been put there to stay till, as Jason had boasted, “every rebel in North America had laid down his arms.” Minutes seemd hours to the imperiied boy, as he worked at the stubborn prize, and once he stopped, for the front door opened and some one caihe out. “Mother, patriot though she is, i wouldn'Uquite approve of my work,” he | thought tt> himself. “She has wished j that the flag might vanish, but she j would never think of sending me upon a j mission of this kind. There’s a surprise j in store for her if I can only get this | flag, and I will have it if the tories be- ! low keep up their revel a little longet ” j At length the last bft of bunting ; yielded to Obcd's knife and hands, and he dreiy the flag over his shoulder. Presently he began to descend, and i drew a breath of keen relief when he stood on the ground with the prize in

his possession. He glanoefl once more at the house. The lout! talk and latighter still continued. and just as he stepped toward the garden, throug-h which he had crept to the spot, he heard some one say: “Gentlemen, why not go out and salute the hing s flag? We are all loyal to King George, and friend Jason has defied the whole Mohawk valley by keep} ing afloat in the face of our enemies the banner of England.” “Salute! salute!” chorused Jason’s guests. And the next instant there was a rush for the door, and it opened to let a flood of liglit upon the porch. Standing in the shadow of the garden

DARTED OFF DIKE A DEER. fence, with The captured flag wrapped around hits nimble body, was the young rebel of the Mohawk, breathless and ex- j eited.j lie saw the Tory's friends swarm from the house and arrange themselves about the fotot of the flagstaff. - I Jason was among them. “Why.where’s the flag, friend Jason?" suddenly asked one. The lory looked up, and seemed to j fall back as he discovered that the pole was no longer adorned with'The flag he had raised. , * . ; “(lone! gone!" he exclaimed, staggering brtek. ‘Tt was there at sundown. I 1 saw it floating in the last rays of the sun, but—gone! gone! Tire flag I raised!” , Obejtl dropped to the ground, and moved noisesslessly toward the end of Jason's garden. There were confusion and loud voices behind him. but these only quickened his 'irait. “It has been stolen by the rebels!" cried the owner of Sargent house. “I am a disgraced man if they are permitted to escape with it. The men of the Mohawk valley have captured the king's flag, and they will carry it in triumph to the rebel army if we do not overtake them. They may lx* in hiding with it somewhero, and we must surround tho premises." At this moment a little figure sealed the fence and darted off like a deer. (died, clutching the captured prize, ran through the shadows, as he never ran before, and, knowing the cotintrv, he made his way across Jason’s farm, nor stopped till he came back to tho little house on the rise. Once more he slipped back to the attic Over the sloping roof and hid the flag under the cot. after which he threw himself upon the bed and fell asleep. *1 Perhaps the fearless little patriot of the Mohawk dreamed of capturing more flags that night, but in the early morning he heard the voice of his mother at the ladder.

“Come, Obed, wake up and look at Jason Bargent’s flagstaff." she called to him. “The British flag isn’t there any longer. Can it be that the old troy has turned rebel himself?’ “Not quite that gopd. mother. Didn’t I tell you that some night neighbor Sargent would lose his flag?” What was the patriot mother’s surprise when she saw. descending the ladder, her boy with the British flag over his shoulders. “You, Obed?* she said. “They will ransack the district, but what they recover the flag." “We’ll see about that. It’s our secret* mother, and we’ll keep it, won’t we?" Jason "Sargent and his friends did “ransack the district,” but they were not shrewd’enough to find the captured flag, for they did not suspect Obed Mason of the hcoric deed, and not until after the war did the tory learn that the boy had lowered the obnoxious flag, and then he was powerless to punish. For many years the trophy remained j in the Mason family, and Obed grew to manhood known as “the little rebel of the Mohawk,” a title of which he was proud.—Golden Days. v

TALMAGE’3 SERMON. roughing Tribute to the Glory the Christian Mother. Hannah. the Mother of Semoel. and Her Prleelese Herlta;M-No Poorer for Good on Earth Equal to that of a Pious Mother. Rev. T. DeWitt Talma ge delivered the following-sermon before his Washington congregation, taking for his test: Moreover his mother made him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to year, when she came up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice.—L Samuel, IL, 19. The stories of Deborah and Abigail are very apt to discourage a woman’s soul. She says within herself: “It is impossible that lever achieve any siich grandeur of character, and. I doh’t mean to try;’’ as though’a child should refuse~to play the eight notes because he can not execute William Tell. This Hannah of the text differs from the persons I have just named. She was an ordinary woman, with ordinary intellectual capacity, placed in ordinary circumstances, and yet, by extraordinary piety, standing out before all the ages to come, the model Christian mother. Hannah was the wife of Elkanah, who was a person very, much like herself—unromantic and plain, never having fought a battle or been tbe subjfect of a marvelous escape. Neither of them would have been called a genius. Just what you and I might be, that was Elkanah and Hannah. The brightest time in all the

history of that family was the birth of Samuel. Although no star ran along the heavens pointing down to birthplace, I think the angles of God stooped at the coming of so wonderful a prophet. As Samuel had been given in answer to prayer, Elkanah and his family, save Hannah, started up to Shiloh to offer sacrifices of thanksgiving. The cradle where the child slept was altar enough for Hannah's grateful heart; but when the boy was old enough she took him to Shiloh, and took three bullocks and an ephah of flour and a bottle of wine, and made offering of sacrifice unto the toril, and there, according to a previous vow, she left him; for there he whs to stay all the days of his life, and minister in the sanctuary. Years rolled on; and every* year Hannah made with her own hand a garment for Samuel, and took it over to him. The lad would; have got along well without that garment, for I suppose he was well clad by the ministry of the^ temple; but Hannah could not be contented unless she was all the time doing something for her darling boy. “Mofeover his mother made him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to year, when she came up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice. ” - ■ • Hannah stands before you, then, today, in the first place,: as an industrious mother. There was no need that she work. Elkanah, her husband, was far from poor. He belonged to a distinguished family; for the Bible tells as that he was the son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the sou of Zuph. “Who are they?'’you say. I no not know; but they were distinguished people, co doubt, or their names would not have been mentioned. Hannah might hhye seated herself, in her ! family, and, with folded arms and disheveled hair, read novels from year to year; if there had been any to read; but when I see her snaking that garment aud taking it over to Samuel, I know she is industrious from principle as well as froin pleasure. God would not have a mother become a drudge or a slave; He woi^d have her fmploy all the helps possible in this day in the rear? mg of her children. But Haupaii ought never to be ashauied^tK be found making a coat for • Samuel. Most mothers need.no counsel in this direetioni The wrinkles on their brow, the pallor on their cheek, the thimble-mark on their finger, attest that they are faithful in their maternal duties. The bjloom aud the brightness and- the vivacity of girlhood have given place ft® the grander dignity and usefulness and industry of motherhood. But there is a heathenish idea getting abroad in some of

the families of Americans; there are mothers who banish themselves from the home circle. For three-fourths of their maternal duties they prove them»eiyer incompetent. They are ignorant of what their children wear, and what their children eat, and what their children read. They intrust to irresponsible persons these young immortals, and allow them to be under influences which may cripple their bodies, or taint thieir purity, or spoil their manner, or destroy their souls. • From the awkward cut of Samuel's coat you know his mother Hannah did not make it. Out from under flaming chandeliers, and off from imported carpets, and down the granite stairs, there is coming a great crowd of children in this day, untrained, saucy, incompetent for all the prictiral duties of life, ready to be caught in the first whirl of crime and sensuality. Indolent and unfaithful mothers will make indolentand unfaithful children. You can noty expect neatness and order in any house where the daughters see nothing but slatterniness and upside-downativenes in their parents. Let Hannah be idle, and most certainly Samuel will grqpr up idle. Who are the industrious men ir all our occupations and professions? Who are they managing the merchandise of the world, building the walls, tinning the roofs, weaving the carpets, making the laws, gpv^rning the nations, making the earth to quake and heave and igaar and rattle with the tread of gigantic enterprise? Who are they? For the most part they descended from industrious mothers, who, in the old homestead, used to spin their own yarn, and weave t leir own carpets, and plait their own d formats, and flag their' own chairs, and do their own work. The stalwart i nen and the influential women of this < ay, ninety-nine out of a hundred of them

came from suoh an illustrious ances* try of hard knuckles and homespun. And who are these people in society, light as froth, blown every whither of temptation and fashion—the pedlers of filthy stories, the dancing-jacks of political parties, the scum of society, the tavern-lounging, store-infest-ing, the men of low wink, and filthy chuckle, and brass breastpin, and rotten associations? For the most part they camqrwgjpm mothers idle and disgusting, u|:' scandal mongers of society. goinjprrom house to house0 attending to everybody’s business but their own; believing in witches and ghosts, and horse shoes to keep the devil out of the churn, and by a godless life setting children on the very verge of hell. The mothers of Samuel Johnson, and of Alfred the Great, and of Isaac Newton, and of St. Augustine, j and of Richard Cecil, and of President j Edwards, for the most part were in - i dustrious, hard-working mothers, j Now, while I congratulate all Christian mothers upon the wealth ! and the modern science which may afford them all kinds of help, i let me say that every mother ought to : ! be observant of her children’s walk, | her children’s behavior, her children's food, her children’s books, her children’s companionships. However much help Hannah may have, I think she | Plight every year, at least, make one ! garment for Sarnpel. The Lord have inerey on the man who is so unfortu- j nate as to have had a lazy mother! | Again: Hannah stands before you j 'to-day as an intelligent mother. From | the way in which she talked in this I chapter, and from the way in which she managed this boy, you know she I was intelligent. There are no persons I in a community who need to be so wise and well-informed as mothers. 0, this work of cultivating children for this world and the next. This child is timid, and it must be routed pp and pushed out into activities. This* child is forward; and must be held back and tamed down into 'modesty and politeness. Rewards for one~punislunents for another. That which will make George will ruin John. The roil is necessary in one case,

yrhue a fm>wn. of displeasure is more than enough • iu another. Whipping and a dark closet do not exhaust all the rounds of domestic discipline. There have been children who have grown up and gone to glory without ever having their ears boxed. 0, how much care and intelligence is necessary in the rearipg of children. But in this day, when there are so many books on this subject, no parent is excusable in being ignorant of the best mode of bringiug up a child. If pareuts kneuP more of dieteties, there would not .be so many dyspeptic stomachs and weak nerves and inactive livers among children. If parents knew more of physiology, there would not be so many curved spines and cram pedtshests and inflamed throats and diseased lungs as there ar$ among children. If parents knew haore of art, and were in sympathy with all that is beautiful, there would not be so mauy children coming out iu the world with boorish proclivities. If parents knew more of Christ, and practiced more' ftf His religion, there would not be so many little feet starting on the wrong road, and all around us voices of riot and blasphemy would not come up .with such ecstasy of infernal triumph The cagletsin the eyrie have no advantage ever the eaglets of a thousand years ago; the kids having no superior way of climbing up tike rocks than the old goats taught them hundreds of years ago; the whelps know no more than did the whelps of ages ago-fthey are taught no more by the lions 6f the desert; but it is a shame that in this day. when there are so many opportunities of improving ourselves in the best manner of culturing [.children, that so often there is no more advancement in this respect than there has been among the kids and the eaglets, and the whelps.

Again: Hannah stands, before you to-tiay as the Christian mother. From her prayers, and from the way she consecrated her body to God, I know she was good. A mother may hare the finest culture, the most brilliant surroundings; but she is not tit for her duties unless she'be a Christian mother. There may be well-read libraries in the house: and exquisite music in the parlor; and the canvas of the liest artist adorning the walls; and the wardrobe be crowded with tasteful apparel; and the children be wonderful for their attainments, and make t he house rlng'wdth laughter and innocent mirth; but there is something woefully lacking in that house if it be not also th^ residence of a Christian mother. I bless God that there are not many prayerless mothers. The weight of responsibility is so great 1 that they feel the need of a Divine j hand to help, and a Divine voice to comfort, and a Divine heart to sym-! pathize. Thousands of mothers have j been led into the Kingdom of I God by the hands of their little children. There are hundreds of mothers to-day who would not have been Christians bad it not been for the prattle of their little ones. Standing some day in the nursery,• they be- j thought themselves, “this child God I I has given me to raise for eternity. | What is my influence upon it? Not bej inga Christian myself, how can I ever j expect him to become a Christian. Lord, help me!" O, are there anxious mothers who know- nothing of the j infinite help of religion? Then I I commend to you Hannah, the ; pious mother of Samuel. Do not j | think it absolutely impossible that I ; your children come up iniquitous. Out of just such fair brows and brighteyes j | and soft hands and innocent hearts ! crime gets its victims—extirpating 1 purity from the heart, and robbing out the smoothness from the brow, and quenching the luster of the eyi, and shriveling up and poisoning and putrefying and scathing and scalding and blasting and burning with shame and woe. Every child is a bundle of tremendous possibilities, and whether that I child shall come forth in life, its heart

attuned to the eternal harmonies, andj after a life of usefulness on earth, g» to a life of joy in Heaven, or, whether across it shall jar eternal discords, and after a life of wrong-doing on earth, it shall go to a home of impenetrable darkness and an abyss of immeasurable plunge, is being decided by nursery song and Sabbath lesson and evening prayer, and walk and ride and look and frown and smile. 0, how many children in glory! crowding all the battlements and lifting a millionvoiced hosanna—brought to God through Christian parentage! One hundred and twenty clergymen were together, and they were telling their experience and their ancestry; and of the 120 clergymen, how many of them do you suppose assigned, as the means of their conversion, the influence of a Christian mother? One hundred out of 120! Philip Doddridg® was brought to Gcd by the Scripture lesson on the Dutch tile of the chimney fireplace. The mother thiuks she is only rocking a child; but at the same time she may be rocking the destiny of empires—rocking the fate of nations—rocking the glories of Heaven. The same maternal power that may lift a child up, may press a child dowm A daughter came to a worldly mother and said she was anxious about her sins, , and she had been praying all night. The mother said: “O, stop praying! 1 don't believe in praying. Get over all those religious notions, and I will give you a dress that will cost §500, and you may wear it next week to that party.” The daughter took the dress, and she moved in the gay circle, the gayest of all the gay all night; and, sure enough, all religious impressions * were gone, and she stopped parying, A few months after, she came to die; and in her closing moments said: “Mother, I wish you Would bring me that dress that.’ cost $500,” The mother thought it was a very strange request, but she brought it to please the dying child. *\Xow,” -said the daughter, “mother, hang that dr^ss on the foot of my 'bed,'' and the dress wasdiung^ there, on the foot of the bed. P Then the dying girl got up on one elbow a ml looked at her mgther, and then pointed to the dress and said: “Mother, that dress is the price of my soul!” O, what a momentous thing it is to be a mother!

Again, and lastly: Hannah stanus before, you to-day the rewarded ■mother. For all the coats she made for Samuel; 'for all the prayers 6he offered for him; for the discipline she exerted over him, she got abundant compensation in the piety and the usefulness and the popularity of her son Samuel; and that is true in ail ages. Every "mother gets full pay for all the prayers and tears in behalf of her children. That man useful in commercial life; that man prominent in the profession; that mas* ter mechauic—why every step he takes in life has an echo of gladness in the old heart that long ago taught him ta be Christian and heroic and earnest. The story of what you have done or what you have written, of the influ* ence you have exerted, has gone back to the old homestead—for there is someone always ready to carrygood tidings —and that story makes the needle in the old mother's tremulous hand fly quicker, and the flail in the father's hand come down upon the barn-floor witha more vigorous thump. Parents love to hear good news froimtheir children. Do you send them good rrbtvs always? Look out for the young man who speaks of his father as the ‘“governor,” the “squire,” or the “old chap.” Look out for the young woman who calls her mother her “maternal ancestor," or tj|e “old woman.” “Tlie eye that mocketli at his father, and refuseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick ip out, and the young eagles shall eat’it.” God grant that all these pareqgb may have the great satisfaction of seeing their children grow up Christians..

But, O, the pang of that mother who, after a life of street gadding, and gos-sip-retailing, hanging on her children the fripperies and follies of this world, see those children tossed out on the sea of life like' foam on the wave, or nonentities in a world where only brawny and stalwart, character can 6tahd the shock! But blessed be the mother who looks upon her children as sons and daughters of th$ Lord Almighty! 0, the satisfaction of Hannah ih seeing Samuel serving at the altar; of Mother Eunice in seeing her Timothy learned in the Scriptures: that is the mother’s recompense—to see her children coming up useful in the world reclaiming the lost, healing the sick, pitying the ignorant, earnest and useful in evdry sphere. That throws a new light back on the old family Bible whenever she reads it; and that will be ointment to soothe the aching limbs of decrepitude, and light up the closing hours of life’s day with the glories of ad autumnal sunset! There she sits—the old Christian mother—ripe for Heaven. Her eyesight is almost gone; but the splendors of the celestial city kfndle up her vision. The gay light of Heaven’s morn has struck through the gray locks which are folded back over the wrinkled temples. She stoops very much now under the burden, of care she used to carry for her children. She sits at home to-day, too old to find her way to the house of God; but while she sits there, all the past comes back; and the children that 4C years ago trooped around her armchair with their little griefs and joys and sorrows—those children are all gone now. Some caught up into a better realm, where they shall never die, ' and others out in the broad world, attesting the excellency of a Christian mother's discipline. Her last days are full of peace; and calmer and sweeter will her spirit become, until the gates of life shall lift and let the worn-out pilgrim into eternal spring-tide and youth, where theolimbs never ache, and the eyes never grow dim, and thei staff of the exhausted and decripit pilgrim shall become the palm of theimmortal athlete.