Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 19, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 October 1897 — Page 2

WOMAN'S LOV& % MBtinol angel, sitting high in glory, Heaid this shrill wail ring out from pur--1 gatory: •THave mercy, mighty angel! Hear my j* story: v "I loved, and, blind with passionate love, < I fell; ■Lore brought me down to death, and death to bell—jFor God is just, and death for sin is well. ’,"l do not rage against His high decree, iNor for myself do ask th#t grace shall be, 'Bat for my love on earth, who mourns for t ■ J '■ ."Great spirit, let me see my love again, "And comfort him one hour, aud I were 1 fain „ ,To pay a thousand years of fire and pain. Then said the pitying angel: “Nay, repent jßiat wild vow. Look! the dial-finger's bent 'Sown to the last hour of thy punishment. ’’ Bnt still she wailed: “I pray thee, let mo '* be; 1 can not rise to plnee and leave him so. ;©h, let me soothe him in his bitter woe!” .The brazen gates ground sullenly ajar, ~And upward, joyous, like a rising star. She rose, and vanished in the ether far. Bnt soon atlown the dying sunset sailing, And, like a wounded bird, her pinions trailing. She fluttered back with broken-hearted wailing. ' SSe^sobbed: “I found him by the summer sea Reclined, his head upon a maiden’s knee; She curled his hair, and kissed him. Woe is me!" She wept: “Now let my punishment begin; I have been fond and foolish. Let me in To expiate my sorrow and my sin.” The angel answered: “Nay, sad soul, go higher! To be deceived in your true heart’s desire iWas bitterer than a thousand years of fire!” —John Hay.

RUFE’S LOVEMAKING.

It was tlio year I built my store and *ot the Corners Postoffiqp, which, by the good will of Providence and my friends. I've held ever since, no matter Who was “in” at Washington, that I tlrat took notice of Shiftless Rufe Dimming. He lived with his father and xiother just across the flats at the foot •f West Hill, in the edge of the big woods. You know, all this region was pioneered late, and although nearly everything was cleared up on this side of the valley and the pine timber had long been cut off the flats, there was a heavy growth of mixed hardwood and hemlock to the west that stretched •way back I don't know how many miles. Here and there in the little “openings” on the side of the West Hill log houses were still to be seen, and the folks living in them were sometimes pretty primitive. The Dunnings were probably the Imost no-account of the lot. They lived In a little shanty old Rufe had knocked together out of slabs given him by the sawmill boss. They had only a little patch of ground, and they lived on What they raised, the fish they caught, knd what they trapped and shot. They didn't steal, as I know of, but they were kll mortal,shiftless, and young Rufe tas worse than either his father or his other. In fact, he was so all-fiied lazy, If I must put it that way, that even the etd man felt discouraged about him. Young Rufe was 22 before anybody •uspected that he could possibly have any ambition at all. But one day he ■ays Kitty Sylvester. But was the daughter of the first manager of the big Barkley estate. Old man Barkley—the grandfather of the present Barkley, Who never comes near the estate—had Just put the place in a manager’s hands and moved awav with his familv. Now,

Kitty was a real sensible, go-ahead girl. She knew the Sylvesters were as good ms anybody around the Corners, if not m le-etle better, and she tried to live up to the family reputation in all ways. 'When a girl, her mother had been famous for the work she could do, andKitty was not a bit behind. Every morning in the winter she was up early mnd got breakfast by candlelight. Ail long she wove carpet, or quilted comforters, or spun stockings yarn, or did something else that counted. Every morning in the summer she was up With the sun. and day when it /went down she had churned and workled more butter or made more cheese, ior in some other way done more work than any woman anywhere round could do. And she was the savingest girl in the county. Everybody said she was the smartest young woman going, and, naturally, she was considered a highly desirable catch. But she held herself mighty shy of them all for awhile, and SI was regularly given out that no young man need ever think of keeping jeompany with Kitty Sylvester who [wasn't fully her match, both at working and saving. So when it was noised iabout that young Rufe, of all the world, (had got him a pair of fine boots, a muffled shirt, doeskin pantaloons, and a Ibroadeloth coat, and had begun to sbine imp to Kitty, there was a general upjroar. Folks couldn't believe it at first, fltat it wasn't anywhere near as hard to pwollow as what came afterward. You see, the outgiving that had been )msade about the kind of chap Kitty’s Iraaband would have to be had shifted jibe young fellows out a whole lot. Most •f them were willing to work and willing to save, and they all admired Kitty, (for she was as good looking as she was teduptrions and frugal, but ber standard was so blgb it scared the boys, and iINMUx got to be mighty seldom on the

Now, as it turned ont. Shiftless Rnfe thought tiiore of Kitty than any ot the others, and at the very beginning she gave him a little encouragement. Not much, to l>e sure, bnt enough to reform him completely. He was naturaly mighty bashful when he called at the big house, all fixed up In cloths he wasn’t used to, and Kitty at first pretended she didn't understand that he had come to see lier. “I'll call my father,” she said. “Perhaps you want to talk about cutting some cordwood.” “No,” said Rufe, directly, “I want to know if I can’t keep "company with you?” The girl was startled by his failure to beat about the bush, but she answered quite as directly: “Certainly cot. You're too lazy to be allowed to keep company with any one.” Then an idea flashed through her mind. “But if you'll cut cordwood a whole year every day but Sunday aud holidays you may come aud see me—just once. Here comes father aud you'd better make arrangements to cut for him on shares.” To Kitty’s surprise Shiftless Rufe stood his ground, and when her father came In started at once to discuss the proposed arrangement. “Wal, Mist' Sylvester.” said Rufe, grasping the old man’s hand, “I ain't never been no great hand for work, but I must have a chance to keep eomp'ny with Kitty, and she says I may come and see her after I've chopped cordwood a year. It won't be no fun, but I must have Kitty, and if I got to work to git her, why, then I have, and that’s all there is about it.” Sylvester was at first inclined to be angry at Kitty for trifling with Rufe, but concluded to humor the situation, and, bidding Kitty leave the room, told the young man he was ready to make a bargain with him. "You can cut cordwood off the estate on shares, Rufe, of course, if you want to, and I'll set aside some trees right near your father’s shanty on the other side of the flats. But you want to take off them fine boots and them doeskin pants, and that there broadcloth coat, and y.ou don't want to put them on again till you’ve worked hard a whole year. You’re too shiftless to be allowed to think a single minute about Kitty now, and I suppose you always will be, but ” “You needn't f«ay no more, Mist’ Sylvester,” put in Shiftless Rube. “But can’t I see Kitty again just long enough to say good-night?” “Yes,” said the old man, “and I’ll tell her we've made the bargain f>he suggested.” Then he called Kitty into the room. As she entered she noticed for the first time that Rufe, dressed up, wasn’t at all bad looking, and that he seemed twice the man lie had been before. She kept perfect silence till her father had finished. Then she reached out and took Rufe's big, soft paw in her own small hand—a hand that was calloused with hard work in spite of its littleness.

“Mr. Dunning,” she said, “I hope you’ll keep your bargain faithfully, as I shall keep mine. After you have worked hard for a year you pi ay come and see me—once. Whether you may come again or hot will depend on yourself. Good evening, Mr. Dunning.” Nobody had ever called Shiftless Rufe Mr. Dunning before and the title scared him far more than the notion of working every day for twelve long months. From the time he left the big house that night he was fit to drop the title “shiftless.” Next morning, as soon as it was light, the sharp ring of his ax was heard across the valley, biting out the chips as he chopped down the first tree of his year long stent. Long before noon that day his bigpulpy hands were blistered and swollen, and by sundown they were a sight to behold. That night his mother cried over them and urged him to stop thinking about the proud, stuck-up girl on the other side of the valley. “The blear!”- muttered the old woman between whiffs at ber clay pipe, while she dressed Shiftless Rufe’s hand. “Do you think Kitty Sylvester will look at you just because you've been fool enough to* work a whole year? Why, it's puffickly ridlklls. I alius knew you was a little light in the head, Rufe, but I didn't think you’d make a fool of yourself for no conceited Sylvester girl.” . To this and much more of the same sort, both from his father and mother, Shiftless Rufe made no reply, but while yet the next morning was gray the sound of ills busy ax was again wafted across the valley, and this continued to the going down of the 6un. And so it went on, day after day, all the fall and through the winter. No matter how deep the snow, or how stormy the weather, Rufe toiled on unceasingly. When the days were shortest, in the middle of the winter, lie sometimes began before daybreak and worked after dark, splitting the “lengths” he had chopped from the felled trees into “four-foot wood” by the light of a tallow dip stuck into a tin lantern of the pattern so common when the “Corners” was new, but now rarely seen. Before spring folks got to going by Rufe’s ax and lantern in beginning and leaving off work mornings and nights the same as they go by the big tannery whistle down tlie valley now, and nobody who began work as early as Rufe did and worked till Rufe’s lantern was out at night was counted lazy. And Rufe did more than chop cordwood that winter. He learned to read, and this both his mother and father a far more “ridiklis” proceeding. Yet more; he went to meeting every Sunday as regularly as the most pious and -thrifty of the whole neighborhood. Not that he became specially religious, so far as I know, but by going to meeting he could get a glimpse or two every Sunday of Kitty ..Sylvester, and it was a little thing, indeed, for the man who was chopping cord wood a whole year that he might

make eoc call on her' to listen to q sms mon once a week so that he could sit for a whole hour under the same roof with her. - j / ‘ ' Nobody knew then how this devotion of her once shiftless, no-account lover affected Kitty Sylvester, but we learned afterward that the sound of his ax from morning to night echoing across the valley became as music in her ears, and that the light of his candle shining through the trees in the mornings and the evenings was delight to her eyes. At last the long winter, with its cold, its storms, and its darkness were away, the spring passed, and the summer with its heat came on. “Now Rufe'U weaken,” said the loafers about the store. “It’s all right to work hard when it’s cold and the air is bracing, but he'll let up In the hot weather, sure.” But they were wrong. AIT through the heated term Rufe's ax gave noisy notice that he "was still working, and when fall began it was still biting out chips and splitting up lengths. At last the year was nearly up, and old Sylvester had begun to asl* himself whether he had not made an exceedingly bad bargain after all. For Kitty was plainly much interested in the patient lover who had toiled so long aud so 'gmnllly for the privilege of calling on her “just once,” and it-might be, the old man reasoned, that she would allow him to call the second time, and perhaps a third, and perhaps—but the thought was too awful to entertain and the old man strove to dismiss it. Failing in that he questioned the girl, who refused to answer satisfactorily and the two had a quarrel in which Mrs. Sylvester joined, taking Kitty’s part most vigorously. On the last day of the stipulated twelve months Shiftless Rufe went to his work early and began with quick, eager strokes to cut a big hickory. He had becofao an export axman by this time and the sun was not yet high in the sky when the big tree came down with a crash. It so happened that I was over in the big woods that day with a neighbor looking at the timber. We heard the tree fall aud at the same time a scream as if a strong man were in mortal agony. In a hurry I ran in the direction of the sound,' guided by low moans that followed the shriek. There, pinned under a branch of the fallen tree, lay Shiftless Rufe, crushed and barely conscious. For the first time in the entire year he had miscalculated in felling his tree. As quickly as wo could my neighbor and I cut away the branch and released the young man. Then we got together a stretcher of boughs on which ive proposed to carry him home. As we lifted him he opened his eyes. “I wish you'd take me over to Sylvester’s first,” he said, faintly. “I want to call on liis daughter. She said I might come to-night- and so did her father—and—maybe—if you take me home before I go there I won't be able to see her to-night at all.” So we carried him across to the big house on the Barkley estate. Fart of the way he was quite unconscious and part of the way he was pathetically delirious, but when we reached the house he was quite rational, though very weak. Arid so it was that I was present when Rufe Dunning made love to Kitty Sylvester. His love-making didn't take long, for his strength Avas about gone, but he had time to say what he AA-anted to say and to hear what he Avanted 1o hear. And when, after a long look into Kitty's eyes, poor Rufe peacefully closed his oAvn, his big hand, no longer soft aud pulpy, but sinewy and strong, clasped her little one in the clasp of an accepted lover. —Nebraska State Journal.

When Blown Up.

A miner, who was blovfh up while blasting a rock, describes his sensations thus: “Y'ou see, it’s so sudden. It's over just about the time you begin 10 understand that something is happening. You know, I had the satchel in my hand, and put it down. Then I got afraid of it. All at once everything was light. I don’t think I saw the flash. Any way, nay face was not exactly toward the explosion. But then everything got light, lighter than day--kind of blinding. “There was an awful crash. It was just at the same time. I was terrified, and wanted to get away. It was just as if I was having the nightmare. Somehow, though, I knew just what the matter was. A man can think faster than lie lias any idea of. I knew that some of the others were.nearer tlie explosion, and I said to myself, ‘They're blown to bits, that's certain.’ You understand, this was all in a second—all at once, really. “Then it was exactly the same as if I had been lilt with a stick. I thought it was a big stick bigger tbail any man could swing, and that is must bo worked by machinery. It lilt me on the head and all over. I went sailing into tlie air a long, long way. My ears roared, and the wind blew into my face. “I knew when I struck the ground, for I rejnember saying to myself, ‘Well, I’m done for.’ “I don't know just when T lost my right senses, or when they came back, but when they did come back, it seemed queer that I was there still. I thought I had lioen thrown somewhere else. I could feel fire burning me. It was my clothes. They were smoking and almost blazing. “I was bruised all over, and could not bear very well. My voice sounded as though somebody else were talking. That's all I can tell you about it.”

As He Understood It.

The Count—l have been invited to a tin wedding. The Baron—Ah! The girl is being married for her money?—Puck. We have noticed that advertising solicitors always have a better opinion of people than the bill collectors.

CORN HUSKING TIME.

INSPIRATION ORAWN FROM THE TEEMING HARVEST. • ■ ; 1 ■*, Vivid Peu Picture of the Husking Bee l)ea,th the Blessing of BlessingsYo the Good Man - The Chi 11 o-f the Frosts Followed by Gladness. Talrunge’s Weekly Talk. This sermon by Dr. Taltuage is peculiarly seasonable at the present time, when the teeming harvests all over the laud are awaiting the husbandman. His text is Job v., 20, “As a shook of corn cometh in in his season.” Going ot the rate :of forty miles the hour a few" days ago, I caught this sermon. If you have, recently been in the fields of Pennsylvania, or New Jersey, or New York, cr New England, or any of the country districts, you know that the corn is nearly all cut. The sharp knife struck through the stalks and lent them all along the fields until a man came Avitli a bundle of straw arid twisted a few of these wisps of straw into a band, and then gathering up as much of the corn as he could compass with his ’arms, he bound it with this Avisp of straw, and then stood it in the field in what is called a shock. It is estimated that there are notv several billion bunhel-.i of corn standing iu tho shock, waiting to be husked. Some time during the latter part rtf next month the farmers will gather, one day on one farm, another day on another farm, and they will put on their rough husking apron, and they will take the husking peg, which is a piece of iron with a leather loop fastened to the hand, and with it unsheath the corn front the husk and toss it into the golden heap. Then the Wagons will come along and take it to the corn crib. How A iA'idly to all those of us who wore born in the country comes the remembrance of husking time! We waited for it as for a gala day of the year. It Avas called a frolic. The trees having for the most part shod their foliage, the farmers waded through the fallen leaves and came through the keen morning air to the gleeful company. /The frosts, avlxcli had silvered everything during the night, began to melt off of the top of the corn shocks. While the farmers were waiting for others, they stood blowing their breath through their fingers or thrashing their arms around their bodies to keep up warmth of circulation.

Husking the Corn. Roaring mirth greeted the late farmer as he crawled over the fence. .Toke and repartee and rustic, salutation abounded. All ready, now! The men take hob! ,>f the shock of corn and hurl it prostrate, while the moles and mice which have secreted themselves there for warmth attempt .escape. The withe of straw is unwound from the corn shock, and the stalks, heavy with the wealth of grain, are rolled into two bundles, between.which the busker sits down. The husking peg is thrust iu until it strikes the corn, and then the fingers rip off the sheathing of the ear and there is a crack as the root of the corn is snapped off front the husk, and the grain, disimprisoned, is hurled up into the sunlight. _____ The air is so tonic, the work is so very exhilarating, the company is so blithe, that some laugh, and some shout and some sing, and some banter, and some tease a neighbor for a romantic ride along the edge of the woods in an eventide, in a carriage that holds but two, and some prophesy as to the number of bushels to the field, and others go into competition as to which shall rifle the most corn shocks before sundown. After awhile the dinner horn sounds from the farmhouse, and the table ts surrounded by a group of jolly and hungry men. From all the pantries and the cellars and the perches of fowl on the place the richest dainties come, and there are carnival and neighborhood reunion and a scene which fills our memory, part With smiles, but more with tears, as we remember that the farm belongs now to other owners, and other hands gather in the fields, and many of those who giingled in that merry husking scene have themselves been reaped “like as a shock of coru cometh In in liis season.” There is a difference of opinion as to whether the orientals knew anything about the corn as it stands in our fields, but recent discoveries have found out that the Hebrew knew all about Indian maize, for there have been grains of the corn picked up out of ancient crypts and exhumed from hiding places where thev were put down many centuries ago, and they ha\e been planted in our time and have come up just such Indian maize as we raise in New York and Ohio, Ho lam right when I say that my text may refer to a shock of corn just as you and I bound it, just as jo'ii and I threw it, just as yoii and I husked it. There may come some practical and useful and comforting lessons to ail our souls \yhi!e we think of coming in at last “like a shock of corn coming in in his season.” Death the Blessing of Blessings. It is high time that the king of terrors were thrown out of the Christian vocabulary. A vast multitude of people talk of death as though it Were the disaster of disasters instead of being to a good man the blessing of blessings. It is moving out of a cold vestibule into a warm temple. It is migrating into groves of redolence and perpetual fruitage. It is a change from bleak March to roseate June; It is a change of manacles for garlands. It is the transmuting of the iron handcuffs of earthly incarceration into the .diamonded wristlets of a bridal party, or, to use the suggestion of my text, it is only husking time. It is the tearing off of the rough sheath of the body that the bright and the beautiful soul may go free. Coming in “like a shock of corn cometh in in his season” Christ broke up a funeral procession at the gate of Main by making a resurrection day for a young man and his mother. And I would that I could break up your sadness autl halt the lonaf funeral procession of the world's grief by some cheering and cheerful view of the last transition. We all know that husking time was a time of frost. Frost on the fence. Frost on the stubble. Frost on the ground. Frost on the bare branches of the trees. Frost in the air. Frost ou the hands of the huskers. You remember we used to hide behind the corn stacks so as to keep Off the wind, but still you remember how shivering was the body and how painful was the cheek and how benumbed were the hands. But after awhile the sun was high up and all the frosts went out of the air, and hilarities awakened the echoes and joy from one corn shock went up,

“Aha, aha!” and was answered by Jay from another corn shock, “Aha, aha!” - So Ave all realize that the death of vwr friends is the nipping of many,expectations, the freezing, the chilling, the frosting of mariy of out hopes. It is far from being a south wind. It comes from the frigid north, acri when they go away frorp us Ave stand benumbed in body and benumbed in mind and benumbed in soul. We stand among our dead neighbors, our dead families, and we say; “Will Ave ever get OA'cr it?” Yes, we Will get ever it amid the shoutings of heavenly reunion, and we will look back to all these distresses of bereavement only as the temporary distresses of husking time. “Weeping may endure for a night, lint joy eometh in the inornifig.” “Light, and but for a moment,” said the apostle, as he clapped his hands, “light, and but for a moment.’' The chill of the frosts followed "by the gladness that cometh in “like as a shock of corn cometh iu in his season.” .

GtfiS’a Way of Parting. Of course the husking time made rough work with the car of corn. The husking peg had to be thrust in nud the hard thumb of the linskor had to come down on the swathing of the ear, and then there avhs a pull and a ruthless tearing and then a complete snapping off before the c-oru was free,, and if the husk could have spoken it Avould have said: “Why do you lacerate ntc? Why do you Avrench me?” Ah, my friends, that is the way Jflnd has iirrangp.il that Ilic rnr and the husk shall part, and that is the way he has arranged that the body and sotjFsh,all separate. Y'ou can afford to haA ; e your physical distresses Avlieu you know that they are only forwarding the soul’s liberation. Every rheumatic pain is only a plunge of the husking peg. Every neuralgic twinge is only a tAvist by the hitskcr. There is gold in you that must come out. Some Avay the shackle must be broken. Some way the ship must be launched for heavenly voyage. Yeti must let the hcaveuly Husbandman husk off the mortality from the immortality. There ought to be great consolation in this for all Who have chronic ailments, since the Lord is gradually and more mildly taking away from you that which hinders your soul's liberation, doing gradually for you what for many of us in robust health perhaps he will do in one fell blow at the last. At the close of every illness, at the close of every paroxysm, you ought to say: “Thank God, that is all past now. Thank God, 1 will never have to suffer that again. Thank God, I am so : much nearer the hour of liberation.” Y'ou will never suffer the same pain twice. You may have a new pain in an old place, but never the same pain twice. The pain does its work and then it dies. Just so many plunges of the crowbar to free the quarry stone for the building. Just so many strokes of the chisel to complete the statue. Just so many pangs to separate the sofH from the body. You who have chronic ailments and disorders are only paying in installments that'which some of its will have to pay in one payment when avo pay the debt, of nature. Thank God, therefore, ye avlio have chronic disorders, that you have so much less suffering at the last. Thank God that you will have so much less to feel in the way of pain at the hands of the heavenly Husbandman when “the shock of corn cometh in in his season.”

Corn Not Worth Hushing. Perhaps now this may be an answer to a question which I asked one Sabbath morning, but did not answer, YVhy is it that so many really good people have so dreadfully to suffer? You often find a good man with enough pains r and aches and distresses, you ivoitld think, to discipline a Avhole colony, Avhilc you will find a man who is perfectly useless going around With easy digestion and steady nerves and shining health and his exit from the world is comparatively painless. How do you explain that? Well, I noticed in the husking time that the husking peg was thrust into theeorn and then there must be a stout pull before the swathing Avas taken off of the ear and the full, round, healthy, luxuriant corn was developed, while on the other hand there was corn that hardly seemed worth husking. We threw that into a place all byjtself and avc called jt “puldjins,” "feome or it ivas mildewed amt some of It was mice nibbled and some of it Avas great promise and no fulfillment. All cobs and no corn. Nubbins! After the good corn had been driven up to the barn Ave came around with the corn basket and wc picked up those nubbins. They were Avorth saving, but not worth much. So all ground us there are people Avho amount to nothing. They develop into no kind of usefulness. They are nibbled on one side by the world and nibbled on the Other side by the devil and mildewed all over. Great promise and no fulfillment. All cob and no corn. Nubbins!

They arc Avorth saving. I suppose many of them will get to heaven, but they are not woi tliy to be mentioned in the sam6 day with those who went through great tribulation into the kingdom of our God. Who Avould not rather have the pains of this life, the misfortunes of this life—who would not rather be torn, and wounded, and lacerated, and wrenched, and husked, and at last go in amid the verjj- best grain of the granary, than to be pronounced not worth husking at all? Ijubbins! In other Avords, I want to say to you people who have distress of body and distress in business and distress of all sorts, the Lord has not any grudge against you. It is not derogatory; it is complimentary. “Whom the Lord loveth he chasteueth,” and it is proof positive that there is something valuable in you, or the Lord would not have husked you. The God Fashioned Grain. You remember also that in the time of husking it was a neighborhood reunion. By the great fireplace in the winter, the tires roaring around the glorified backlogs on an old-fashioned hearth, of which the modern stoves and registers are only the degenernte descendants, the farmers used to gather and spend the evening, and there would be much sociality, but it was not anything like the joj of the husking time, for then all the farmers came, and they came in the very best humor, and they came from beyond the meadow, and they came from beyond the brook, and they came from regions two and three miles around. Good spirit reigned supreme, and there were great handshakings, and there was carnival, and there ivns the recital of the brightest experiences in all their lives, and there was a neighborhood reunion the memory of which mnkes all the nerves of my body tremble with emotion aa the strings of a harp when the fingers of a player have swept the chords. The husking time was the time of neighborhood reunion, and so heaven will be just that. There they come up! They slept in the old Tillage churchyard. There

they come up! They reclined amid tba •ouutains and the scripture and the parterres of a city cemetery. There they come upT They went down when the ship foundered off Cape Hartteras. They come up from all rides—from potter’s field and out of the solid masonry of Westminster abbey. They come up! fhey come up! All the hindrances to their better naturebusked off. All their physical ailments husked off. All their spiritual despondencies husked off. All their hindrances tousefulness husked off. t jp?be grain, the golden grain, the GE®d fashioned grain, visible and conspicuous. Some of them on earth Avere such dieagreeable Christians you could hardily stand it in their presence.' Now in heavea they are'so radiant you hardly know them. The fact is all tlteir imperfections have been husked off. They did not mean on earth to be disagreeable. They meant well enough, but they told you how sick you looked, and they told you how many hard things they had heard about -you, and they told you how often they had to stand up for you in some battles until you wished almost that they had been slain in some of the battles. Good, pious, consecrated, well-meaning disagreeables. At the Gate of the Granary, Now, in heaven ail their offensiveness has been husked off. Each one is as happy as he can be. Every’ one he meets as happy as he can be. Heaven one great neighborhood reunion. All kings and queens, all songsters, all millionaires, all hnnqnotors. God, the father, with hia children all around him. No “goodby” in all the air. No grave cut in all the hills. River of crystal rolling over bed of pearls, under arch of ehrysoprasus, into the sea of glass mingled with fire. Stand at the gate of the granary and see the grain come in, out of the frosts into the sunshine, out of the darkness into the light, out of the tearing and the ripping, and the twisting, aud the wrenching, and the lacerating, and the husking time of earth into the Avide open door of the king's granary, “like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season.”

Y'es, heaven, a great sociable, with joy like the joy of the husking time. No one there feeling so big he declines to speak to some one who is not so large. Archangel willing to listen to smallest cherub. No bolting of the door of caste at one heaven* ly mansion to keep out the citizen of a smaller mansion. No clique in one corner whispering about a clique in another corner. David taking none of the airs of a giant killer. Joshua making no one halt until he passes because he made the sun and moon halt. Paul making no assumptions over the most ordinary preacher of righteousness. Naaman, captain of the Syrian host, no more honored than the captive maid Avho told him where he could get a good doctor. O my soul, what a country! The humblest man a king. The poorest woman a queen. The meanest house a palace. The shortest lifetime eternity. And what is more strange about it all is, avo may all get there. “Not I,” says some one standing back under the galleries. Y'es, you. “Not I,” says some one who has not been in church in fifteen years before. Yes, you. “Not I,” says some one who.has been for fifty years filling up his life Avith all kinds of wickedness. Y'es, you. No Monopoly of Religion. There are monopolies on earth, monopolistic railroads, monopolistic telegraph companies and monopolistic grain dealers, but no monopoly in religion. All Avho t want to be saved, “without money atnP without price.” Salvation by the Lord Jesus Christ for all tho people. Of course, use common sense in this matter. You cannot expect to get to Charleston by taking ship for Portland, and you cannot expect to get to heaven by going in an opposite direction. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved. Through that one gate of pardon and peace all the race may go in. “But,” says some one, “do you really think I would be at home in that supernal society. ifJL should reach it?” I think you would. I know you would. I remember that in the husking time there was a great equality of feeling among the neighbors. There at one corn shock a farmer AA'ould be at work who 9wqed 200 acres of 2’he Tuan wnoffi he ’S f as talking with at the next corn shock OAvned but fieres of ground, and perhaps all covered by a mortgage. That evening, at the close of the husking day, one man drove home a roan span so frisky, so full of life, they got their feet over the traces. The other man walked home. -Great difference in education, great difference in worldly means, but I noticed at the hpsking time they all seemed to enjoy eaeli criffer? society. They did not qsk any man how much property ho owned or what his education had been. They all seemed to be happy together in those good times. And so it will be in heaven. 'Our Father will gather liis children around him, and the neighbors will come in, and tho past will be rehearsed. And some one will tell of victory and we will all celebrate it. <Ynd some one will tell of great struggle, an 3 ive will all praise the grace’ that fetched him out of it. And some one will say: “Here is my old father that I put away with heartbreak. Just look at him. he is as young ns any of its!” And some one will say: “Here is my darling child that I buried in Greenwood, and all the after years of my life iverc shadowed with desolation. Just look at her! She doesn’t seem as if she had been sick a minute.” •Great sociality. Great neighborhood kindness. ! All the shocks coming in In their season. Oh, yes, in their season. Not one of you having died too soon or having died too late or having died at haphazard. Planted at just the right lime. Plowed at just the right time. Cut down at just tho right time. Husked at just the right time. Garnered at just the right tima. Coming in in your season. Copyright, 1597.

Heavenly Recognition.—ln giving emphasis to the doctrine of heavenly recognition we observe, first, that in the resurrection each person will retain his full identity, and will live hereafter as a distinct existence as truly as he lived here. He will have his own distinct spiritual organism which will follow Its own laws of life, and from this almost self-evident postulate may be deduced the Idea of mutual recognition. I believe that families long separated will come together and exult in the joy of a blissful reunion.—Rev. F. R. Morse, Baptist, New York City. To pardon those absurdities In ourselves which we cannot suffer in others, Is neither better nor worse than to be more willing to be fools ourselves than to have others so.—Pope.