St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 17, Number 3, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 1 August 1891 — Page 6

LOOKING BACKWARD. Haye you ever dreamed at midnight, When the stars were all aflame, Os the thoughtful days of childhood. With their yearnings for a name? How you thought it would be easy, In the future years, o win All the wealth and rank you ■wanted When your time came to begin 1 Have you seen those dreams come trooping Like old ghosts so weird and gray Ihat they very like were losing All their clothing by the way ? Have y° u thought of your beginnings, Full of wonder why you went Oft astray in other pastures, Thinking you could be content? Have you seen the dead dreams lying Stark and cold along the road, Which in youth you thought as helping You to carry all the load ? Do you mourn now o’er iheir shadows. Still a-thinking von will win All the wealtfl and fame you hoped foe, When you only can begin? Ah! the lens cf life is breaking, And we cannot see ns fair As we could when hope was younger, Down the road to—everywhere ; Yet we live on always dreaming— Though old time still misbehaves, Till at last wo will i ning Quiet quarters in ives. ‘-Hearth and Hall. THE STORY OF A WILL. It was Abigail Varley’s three-score-and-tanth birthday. She was a rich widow, childless, and with no known relations save two gent’emen cousins. Never was cousinly attachment more beautifully illustrated, or cousinly jealousy less amiably exemplified, than in the daily walk and conversation of these two collateral kinsmen. They bestowed so much affection on their common relative that they had none left to waste between themselves. Both were several years younger than the lady, with a fair prospect, according to the course of nature of surviving her; and how tr supplant each other in her will, which she had at last begun to talk seriously of making, was the problem which at present engaged their attention. On the morning in question, when Cousin Roger called to wish Cousin Abigail the usual “many happy returns,” he was not a little chagrined to find Cousin Dick there before him. However, he presented his annual gift, and went through his annual speech without missing a word; and seeing Tabby, the cousinly cat, perched snugly on his rival’s knee, byway of not being outdone in cousinly attention, he took up Pompey, the cousinly poodle, though dogs were always his abomination. "Well, Cousin Abigail, I ho[>e your health continues good,” said Cousin Roger, patting Pompey’s head, and glancing suspiciously at " Cousin Dick, whom he most devoutly wished was at J ericho.

“Not so good latterly as has been. The fact is,” the old lady continued, “I have been thinking seriously of sending for Mr. Parker, with a view to settling my worldly affairs without delay.” ° “Oh, there is no need of baste, cousin, broke in Dick; “youhave many years before you yet;” mentally adding hat has possessed the old lady to put it off so long?” “Well, wed, I suppose there’s on hurry about it,” said Cousin Abigail. And yet,” Cousin Roger ventured to hint, “it is always well to be prepared; none of us can tell the minute or the hour, you know.” “And, after all, calling in a lawyer is not so serious a matter as calling in a doctor,” said Cousiu Dick, iumjUotmiy.The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a young and beautiful girl, at whom Cousin Dick stared with a surprised and troubled look. “Pardon me, ma’am,” she said in a voice remarkably sweet and gentle; “not knowing you were engaged, I came to see if you wished me, as usual, to read to you to-day.” “Presently, dear,” Mrs. Varley answered in a tone that plainly hinted her visitors would not be pressed to stay if they offered to go. After an awkward pause the two cousins took their departure together.

“Who is that girl?” inquired Roger, as soon as they reached the street. “You may well ask,” said Cousin Dick; and, stooping, he whispered something in the companion’s ear, at which the latter started suddenly. “Good heaven! the resemblance is certainly striking. But what is to bo done? Do you think the old—Cousin Abigail, I mean, suspects anything?” “Not yet, I think; but no time is to be lost. I have a plan which it would be well for us to talk over together.” And the two hurried rapidly along. Mrs. Varley had occasionally found the time hang heavy on her hands, and so had adverti-ed for a person to till the post of “companion” to an aged lady. It was thus that Hester Darling had become an inmate of the house.

At as early an hour as was seemly on the morning following that on which we introduced them to the reader. Koger and Dick again presented themselves | before their cousin. “We have thought it our duty,cousin” ! —began Dick. “Our bounden duty,” put in Koger. “As painful as it i imperative,” Dick continued. “To put you on your guard, ma’am,” Koger added. “Against a deceitful and designing person,” exclaimed Dick. “Who is no better than she should i be!” shotted I?>ger, indignantly. “Upon my word, cousins, I do not comprehend a syllable you have uttered,” said Mrs. Varley; “nor shall I be likely to if you both keep talking at once. Come, Dick, you seem least excited. What is the meaning of all this?”

“What means, may.l venture to ask,” said Dick; “did you take to ascertain the character and antecedents of the j young woman at present sheltered be- i neatli yonr roof?” “Why, none,” ieplied the good lady. I “Her young and truthful face were; recommendation enough on which to j giver her a trim ” “We have a certained her to be a most abandoned creature,” proceeded Dick, “and have deemed it proper at once to apprise you of the discovery. Should she deny the accusation, we are prepared with abundant proof.” And the two cousins took to their leave, with an air of exalted virtue. Mrs. Varley was a lady of the strictest propriety and severest morals. Much as she pitied and befriended the

poor and friendless girl, she must be promptly freed from this foul and dreadful charge, or cross her threshold never to return. She went directly to Hester’s chamber. “You must tell me your past history, child,” said Mrs. Varley in a determined but not unkindly tone. “Oh, madam, 1 pray vou pardon me, but I cannot, cannot tell itl” “Then it has been one of shame and guilt?” “For a time, of shame, madam,” answered the young girl, with flushed cheek, “but never of guilt.” What was it that caused Mrs. Varley to start so suddenly and stagger, halffainting, to a seat at Hester’s dressingtable? " Who—whose likeness is that?” she exclaimed, in a scarce articulate voice, pointing to an open miniature on the table. “My mother’s,” Hester answered. Ihen you are Florence Marvin’s child?” “That was, indeed, my mother’s name.” “More, you are the daughter of my only brother, George Haywood, for Florence Marvin was his wife.” With a stifled cry she who had believed herself alone and friendless in the world fell on her kinswoman’s ne6k and wept tears of mingled gladness and sorrow. Her story, which Hester had refused to confide to a stranger’s ears, she now willingly imparted to one from whom she felt she had no longer anv right to withhold it. ' K

That her brother had married in opposition to nor lather's WlsUcs, ami UOa been disinherited in consequence, was already known to Abigail Varley; but what distant spot he had selected for his home, and what had befallen him there, she had never learned. The story was sad enough. After a few toilsome but not unhappy years —for they were spent in the loved society of his wife and child—a dire calamity had fallen upon George Haywood. He came under suspicion of a fearful crime. A network of circum•stances too intricate for man’s wit to disentangle environed him, and he was condemned to die. The stern judgment was carried into effect, and the executed murderer’s despised widow sought concealment for herself and child in a change of place and name. Long, long years afterwards the truth was discovered; but the judicrfl murder had passed among the things irrevocable. The poor widow died at last—died broken hearted, but with one cbnsolation —she had lived to see her husband’s innocence vindicated.

“And this, my poor child, is the shame of which you spoke?” “My life has known no other.” Not many days after, Hester was sent to one of the first seminaries in the land, for sho had yet time enough to avail herself of opportunities of culture hitherto beyond her reach. Her aunt and she kept their own counsel. Cousins Rogers and Dick only knew that the object of their solicitude had disappeared,and probably congratulated themselves on the success of their virtuous stratagem. After a time, Mr. Parker, Cousin Abigail’s lawyer, was sent for, and after that the good ladv seemed wouderfnllv revived in I happy returns” produced anything but a happy effect on the two expectant cousins, who began to think that, aPer all, the life tables might not be infallible. But her time came at last; and within as decent period after the sad event, Cousin Roger and Dick were duly summoned to attend the reading of Abigail Varlev’s will. They were a good deal startled at the sight of their old enemy, the strange girl.

■‘Poor Tabby, as if seeking consolation in her bereavement, leaped upon the knee of her old friend Dick, who stroked her back pathetically, but a little nervously. Pompey, who took things more philosophically, stretched himself out for a snooze at the feet of Roger.

Mr. Parker, drawing from his pocket j the document, proceeded to read it. , The introduction was long and formal. ; But, hark! there’s something coming ' now. “To my cousin, Richard Figgins”— Richard looked at Roger in triumph. —“I give and bequeath'’ — You could have heard both their , hearts beat. — “In consideration of the natural love and affect-ion which 1 have long observed between them” Dick looked puzzled. —“My favorite cat Tabby” — Dick gave Tabby a furious stroke the wrong way. —“And no more of my estate.” With a fling that betokened a most । emphatic i enunciation of the legacy, 1 Tabby was sent mewing and spitting to the furthest corner of the room. ‘‘To my cousin, Roger Smith''-— It was Roger's turn to trhlinpl’. — “In consideration of the like, natural love and affection” — Roger began to feel suspicious. “I give and bequeath my dog Pompey. and no more of my estate.” I With a violent kick Pompey was sent ; spinning after the cat; and the fear of - her who had so long kept the peace be- [ ing no longer before their eyes, the t pent-up enmity of years found vent in - an uproarious fight, in the noise of 1 which the voice of the old lawyer was almost drowned; but the words, “rest

and residue of my estate—niece, Hester Haywood,” were sufficiently audible, i and cousins Dick and Roger stayed to । hear no more.— Neto York livening World. Hydraulic Treatment, At Houlton, Me., they do not waste the public money boarding a drunken i man in jail. The nozzle of a hose is placed inside his shirt collar and the water turned on. He is then sent home to repent and change his clothing. “What do you call your dog?” was • the question which a policeman asked of a very large man who was followed by a very small pup. “I don’t gall him ad all,” was the reply. “Ven I vant > him I viss’e."

REAL RURA FADING WILL BE FOUND IN THIS DEPARTMENT. A E rlcaltural Prosperity— GoO)l fop * Useless Article-How Not to llav« “Choler»”—Diluting Fresh Milk for CrJm Kais. ins-Poultry in France-Benes Bone Meal—A Bamboo stand—The Kitchen. Agricultural Prosperity.

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number of acres Under cultivation in the United States nave more than doubled since the war, I and now comprise about one-third of all the land in the entire Republic. When, a few months ago. prices of farm products were low, and there was a temporary depression of agricultural interests, these facts were not considered- The population of the United not doubled since the war, but tliv number of acres under cultivation hav* undone) in filial than is requisite for one person. The food supply was far greater than the homo , demand, and, very foolishly, we were ad- , mitting fore.gn food products, to the , value of $■25,000,000 yearly to compete , " Ith the over-production of our own farm- , ers.

Tim demand for sugar is steadiy increasing, and, by the statisticians estimate, i( will be but a short time uitil the sugar bill of the Nation will n*ch the enormous sum of §200,000,000 yearly, this should be spent with Amerietn producers; not a penny of it sbmhl go abroad Ihe eminent success ’of the (■rand Island, Nebraska, boed sugar works will encourage new enterprises and within the next live Years SO 000 - 000 a year, at least, are likely to pa ;d for beet sugar, grown and madd in the western States. As to ( otton, we arc producing about one-half of all t ,e fiber used in IMwot Id and we are likely to sustain our sjpremacx. And as to tobacco, we are laely to become independent e>i Cuba or Sumatra for the finest growths; of good aid medium kinds we already grow onoigh for home use.

A Good Use for m U**e!e*s What is more provoking than a wioden button that gets tight on the screv and pulls out, because you forget to tirn it always the one way? What is more abundant and more useless than airoken hinge? Did you ever substitute th latter ■w Jroij■ fWWra ’HI" T V OPEN I for the former? Just try ft and s e hot nice it is to have a button that is “alway! there,” works easily. Is strong, gets tight.” although it may not loot very neat.—Pnntioa! Farmer. Walk* Between I arm Bulhllnff*. The grounds about most farm-house are poorly supplied with walks. Sonrtlines there is no way to approach lie house from the street or to go from RC house to the w< II or farm buildings, ejcept to travel over ground that is nit covered with turf. During a large prtion of the w ar, and especially in tie winter, it is necessary to pass throufli mud or snow. As ki consequence danp feet are among the penalties attached i> passing out of the house during unplv:«ant weather. Os course, it is very dillcult to keep the floors of adwullhig clem when the occupants are obliged to walk through mud every time they go oif. There should Le good vfalks loading from the street to the entrances to the

house, and to the well and the various out-buildings. They not only promote comfort but save a large amount of work , in taking care of the house. Very good : ami -■ : ■ ptu e n a!ks may 'r i' made by nailing plank to scantlings placed on edge. The walks mav Vo from two to j three feet wide, according to the width I of the planks. Walks constructed in this manner are easily kept free from snow, as they mav te swept off as often as is necessary. The only objection totheni is the difficulty in driving across them. This difficulty may be obviated by raising the drive-wav for fontnc • i>iry >lacing imlimd planks or timbers against the sides of tJLtu-wsUks. tw-od walks nut} "also i'e'huule of flat Stone or gravel confined between pieces of timber. Toprevent the timbers from spreading they should be fastened together at suitable distances by meajjs of cross-pieces. The gravel should be clean and the surface of the walk should be slightly rounded so as to carry off water.

THE POULTRY YARD. Poultry in France, In France the fattening of geese for market is the business of men, who de nothing else. They contract with the dealers to get their stock in marketable condition at a certain time for a price agreed upon. France is considered the 1 largest poultry market in the world, the i keeping of poultry being done in a man- j tier that makes it pay. It is not uncommon to see the French peasant driving . into market a flock of several hundred ‘ geese, selling them as wo would so many sheep or hogs. There arc also many who go among the. farmers, pluck the geese feathers, and market them on percentage: this gives employment and a living to many poor people.— American Agriculturist. Crem-Bred Fowls. There are many who agree with the Germantown Telegraph in its statement that cross-bred fowls are far better and more hardy from the shell than the purebred. Following are some of the benefits

named by this authority: “We can combine good traits. The brown Le^h^n ays the smallest egg, the black Spanish cial merely a com inerh oo u g trad ° 19 reached, this cross A ^ arke A offccts . We may not equal the Spanish eggs as an average, put we make up a sort of middle sizejust the size to sell well in market. We can combine early maturity with plump growth. The Asiatic fowl grows slowly, but it counts in weight. It would take too long to get it to a broiler if left all alone; but if we cross a quick grower, the Leghorn, for instance, on these Asiatic hens, we got the quick growth and the body, too. This is indeed a decided advantage.

TATI BTIP IA N dodge, of the Department o f Agriculture, was In Cincinnati the other day, and had a long talk with an attache of the Timet newspaper, of that city d u ring which lie said many interesting tilings and gave much valuable, information relating to agricultural interests and prospects- Tli e

Farmers, as a rule, have a collection of all kinds of fowls. Fanciers call them dunghills. Showmen class them as mongrels. But be they what, they will if the males were killed off and pure-bred fowls substituted, there would be more eggs, more spring chickens, and better health.”

Bonns and Bone Meal. For laying hens, bones that have been coarsely ground are excellent, as they are digested and used as food. They provide tlm necessary phosphates and also 1 me for the shells to a certain extent; they also contain a proportion of nitrogen. Bones, when sharp, also serve |as grit for masticating tho food in the I gizzard, thusTondonng a service as well I as providing the materials for the production of eggs. For very small chicks, bono meal is better, and the fluer the bone meal the easier it is digested by the chicks. Some persons buy the ground bone, sift it, use the coarse part for hens and the finer parts for chicks. Fresh bones are much better than bones that are ury as they contain a certain amount of meat and gelatine. Bones are very cheap, considering their value, as the hens Will not eat H vorr lo’-rm one time, but if fresh bones are broken or pounded to sizes that can easily be swallowed, the hens will consider them quite a treat and consume a large quantity, they can be broken much more readily when heated in an oven. Farm and Fireside. THE PIGGERY. Bow Not to Have ••Chotora.” Don t leave a well hog in a place where a sick one is or has been a moment longer than can be helped.

Don't fail to examine such seporated । well hogs twice a day, and to remove any | that may become ill. Don’t allow the same person to take i care of the affected and well hogs. Don't allow anv intercourse of men, i dogs or hens between the pens of either i lot of hogs. IX>n't put a new lot of healthy hogs in j a pen, or upon land, where swine plague ■ has been for less than three years, unless the same has been thoroughly cleansed of all refuse, plowed or dug up sexeral times, and exposed to the air for an entire summer season. Don t forget that dosed pens, sheds, s'raw stacks and accumulated litter aro ! more dangerous than open country, when swine plague has pp vailed insucli places. Don t water hogs from running streams. Don t place your hog pens, or runs ' so that they can drain into rmiuing streams. Don’t forget that all such places should be well drained and kept as dry I as possible. Don’t bury dead hogs when yon can ; burn them up. ‘.. । ■ ( Don't forget that watchfulness, care- “ fulness and diligence will do more । to prevent swine plague than all tnedi- j dues. | Don’t forget that without these things I being adhered to, tin 1 most practical j vaccine will over prove next to useless. —Hum and l-’atin. THE DAIRY.

minting Fresh Milk lor Vrenm Raining. Perhaps the most valuable lessons ' learned in the dairy world during IS9O, | were taught by the failure of the ice crop. Creameries and many large dairies had become so accustomed to a plentiful supply of ice that they hadcomc to think they could not get along w it hout It. But experiment and experience have discovered that by diluting fresh milk 23 per cent, with either warm or euld water the time of cream raising may be so much i reduced as practically to do away with ■ the necessity of using ice for creaming m/k. The lesson is of great value and - ha- already been the means of saving many dollars; and, rightly used, may tx* the means of saving more. We do not know of any carefully conducted experiments bearing upon the point, but from the few observations made ourselves, we are inclined to think that those who have I made really good butter without the use -of ice will find that it keeps sweet longer and stands up better when exposed to the i air, than butter made with ice. When • ice is abundant it is apt to be used too j freely, and the. milk, cream and butter be I made too cold. Whether or not diluting 1 the milk has any influence on thechurnai biity of the cream, remains to be tested, I so far as we know.— The Jersey Bulletin.

xUlu Nut”* i A comfoutabee cow stable need not bo < costly, blit a stable will be costly if not comfortable. A slack of straw will make more I warmth for more cows if used as bedding I in a warm barn instead of out of doors. ! One in position to know says that “no product of equal value is handled se , carelessly as is butter, by the butter- । makers of lowa.” This wrong ought j to oe righted at once. If a cow is well treated she will do better than if roughly treated, and if you buy a cow that is not used to kind treat- ; ment you have got to overcome her dis- . trust before von can get her to do her > best. ’ \ When you go to buy a cow note how the owner goes up to her and how she j accepts the approach. If she receives a ■ | pat or a stroke as though she was ac- : icustomed to it well and good, but if she , looks afraid or surprised, look out for [ her to be some time in getting ac- ■ Huainted. I A good creamery man remarked the j oiher day that he won Id give *2OO to have , I h's patrons together for two hours, so lie CCuld talk to them, lie knew it would . be money in his pockets to do so, as iu wwld be money in their pockets, and wlat puts money in their pockets is . mdiey in his. No creamery man, no ; farner can ass ord to miss attending every , datymen's meeting that comes any । whtre near him. In fact, lie cannot ai- j . fore to miss them, even if he lias tc. go . ; out^f his way to attend them.

THE HOUSEHOLD. A Bamboo Stand. This Is a pretty bric-a-brac stand from bamboo lishlns rods and’ fans. The upright stick, shouldbat nJ wtough to allow ot th. bracing stkk” to ing thrust entirely through the others and held in place by little wooden bolts, these braces should be put through the supports at unequal heights, so as to allow of each one passing entirely through; and tho knife should be exceedingly sharp to avoid splitting. The fans, with their handles cut off, are laid on little wooden supports to which they are firmly screwed in the center. The material for this stand costs but a trifle and it is a light and graceful bit of furniture for a summer room.—Farm and Home. Household Hints. Salt water, borax, and carbolic acid aro aids in the battle with vermin. VL. ,-1.,^ iresn Uy putting them in cold water containing a piece of charcoal. Change the water occasionally. Four vinegar over fresh fish, and the scales will come off easily. The luster of morocco leather is re^torod by varnishing with white of an

Carrots and turnips should boil for lorty-hve minutes when young; one hour tn winter. When your sifter becomes clogged flour or meal, sift some hot allies , hrough it; you will be surprised to see i how nicely it is cleaned. Io wash flannel garments, souse them , in hot water, and put them repeatedly through a wringer. The garments should never be wrung with the hands, or put in cold water. To remove paint from silk goods, saturate the part with equal parts of turpentine and ammonia, then wash in soap-suds and let it dry between blotting paper, under a heavy weight. Jewelry can be made to look like new by washing with ammonia and water, or alcohol, thmi rubbing dry and polishing with prepared chalk, applied wita flannel or chamois skin. PRACTICAL RECIPES. Family Plum riultling. Ono-half pound beef suet, one-half j pound currants, one-half pound raisins, tin, ■ eggs, half a nutmeg, bread and flour to mix. Boil for the usual time, and serve hot. B»H.f Teal

< >nc pound of lean beef cut into small fills at a time. Taploea Dissolve a teacupful of tapioca in a : quart of water over night. In the morn- । i lug. pour off the water, and boil it in a ’ quart of m''k with two teacupfuls of sugar. Pare and core eight apples, I tilling the opening with a lump of sugar ; and a bit of cinnamon; put in a bakingdish, and pour the tapioca over them, j Bake two hours; serve cold. Koly-Foly I’udding. Make a rich suet crust, roll rather thin, spread jam (or any kind of fruit), ■ . leaving a margin of paste whore the pud- , ding joins, roll it round, tie in a cloth . that lias been sprinkled with flour, drop in boiling water, keep cooking two hours, j takeoff the cloth, lay on a flat dish, and serve while hot with lemon sauce. Spanish Buns. One cup brown sugar, one-half cup J molasses, one-half cup sour milk four > ■ tablespoons melted butter, one egg and • yolks of two (save the whites of two for frosting.) one teaspoon soda, one and one-half cups of flour, one tablespoon cinnamon, the same of cloves if desired. Use brown sugar for the frosting, stirring until quite white. Sweet Potato Croquettes. ■ Boil six large sweet potatoes until they are just tender, then remove the skins and mash the potatoes through a colan- . der or a vegetable press, add a tablei spoonful of butter, a tablespoonful of ' salt, a dash of pepper and a tablospoon- • ful of sugar. Mix thoroughly, form into croquettes, dip first in egg and then in i bread crumbs and fry in smoking-hot fat. i

Celery <>» Toast. If not used in soup celery may be creamed and served on toast. T. he following recipe is well worth trying: Cut the stalks of celery Into inch pieces, cover them with milk and let them boil until tender. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and liberally with butter, pour over squares of hot toast and serve at once. The milk may be omitted and : the vegetable stewed in water till ten- ’ der, seasoned to taste with salt, pepper ■ and butter. In this recipe it is not to be ■ served on toast. A pinch of soda should be added while it is cooking. Buckwheat Cakes. j Nice buckwheat cakes are made of four cups of buckwheat flour, one scant i cup of yellow Indian meal, a tablespoonj ful of salt mixed up with three cups of 1 hot water and one cup of cold miik, : making the mixture about blood warm. Beat this batter vigorously, and add a cup of liquid yeast or a yeast cake dissolved in a cup of luke-warm water. ’ Buckwheat cakes, after the first rising, should be raised with some of the batter. For this purpose there should always be made at least a pint more than is used 1 each time, and this should be set away ; in a cool place to serve as yeast for the ’ next batch of < akes. These, cakes raised with buckwheat latter will be better than the first raised with yeast. j The golden moments in the stream of 1 life rush i ast ns and wo see nothing ■ but sand; the angels come to visit us ' and we only know them when they are i cone. — Ge orge EHot.

VHE SUNDAY SCHOOE AN ,NTER T E ® T E 7° s A s N o ^NSTnucEefiecttons ot an Elevating Uha-ucteF- ' Whoiesome Food for Thought _ Study..dress'"* 1 *«■■<>• IWUIWMU A "‘- '• t ” Tot ..a K > IS,ra O n VCTOnY. Dear Lor^wo “ pra y er - them thine. We are ntt° UI ^ yc ^ ars > make thirsty, and we drTp hungry, thj well-curb. Hies ed v d undone, at find thee there. Or rather M n Ster ’ “ ay thee there. For thou w-t I '“ ay we 8° with ' when thou earnest underpin WOrn and across Samaria's Judea s hot sun well-side by the Ion”' ng sa nds to this peace in speaking peace. May wo refresh our own souls by giving a cup of cold through* ° the . rS - ls "« «ust needs go itKh gracious Shepherd, may it bo in thy footsteps. Amen. WHAT THE LESSON SAVS. of hrh.to H her ; thorefore - In pursuance P rocee<l north through Jt,. £ “Which Jacob gave.” Gen. Jamb’s well Probably on the land spoken of at Gen. 33: 18-20. Wearied. A peculiar word, meaning tired out or spent. It is tiunslated toiled at Luke 5: 5, and labored at John 4: 38. Thus, 1. e., thus wearied icss P er I h , a ’P s suggesting wearß curb Th I 7b 11 ; At its edge ' ,be "e;l---1Xt h. hour ’ If wc adcnt Dia Roman time card and say this was si Mho P i “a ’ ‘ Ught "'® DOt then t 0 say tfa a b LUX hOUr ” Ot john 1: 39 was - according u* same notation. ■ma ^ nia,n - V nc of ’ho customs of the day and place. To draw water. Or dip, from ntlos, a sink. The same word used conram" 8 th l e ." ater > mad e wine, at Cana of Galilee. John 2-8. a iS dtecWc ß "CF- gone. Hence no one to draw for him. To buy meat. From the word for market-place. So, then the & r s 1 ’ “I"""• »“>' j a iXd's dint Samaritans. Some of our ed fron^li a , as ’ ha ' e not yet returned from their marketing tour. aue'r ^Whei’X CK VariXnl' Better ' ever y °ne that, as in Never thirst. Not thirst into the eterniroml a Q Sha!l b c. or shall betome.—A well, 1. e „ fountain, as in v. 6 “xlrX mn 'l 1 U Sp,in 8 ln K "p. Pictorial sf I h leaping up. Same word us-d of the lame man who leaped atA;ts3:B. Everlasting life. Same word as in tho a’omof ClaUSe of the verso (“never”) i. e..

XVHAT THE LESSON TEACHES. pearled with his journey. Jesus was tired. Thus, also, was he touched with a feeling of our infirmities. These feet of thine, precious Master, were very ten1° ’ be ’ hor . u ai,d ,h? sbarp stone; that brow not easily bore the fierce heat of the eastern suns. He was wearv and worn I want to apprehend it clearly {hat I may ,et the lesson right. He was just as tired is I Would have been, possibly more so, if I had traveled afoot the miles that stretched between Jerusalem and Sycbar. I can see oim resting there just a moment ere other ■ eet drew near, tired, hungry, thirsty. This st 7? 7n S i h 7; f °/ he n ! ade n ' I'be cattle the hills, the fountains, and springs all bis, and he in want. This he did for me.

‘Thou didst leave thy home and thy kinglv crown M hen thou earnest to earth for me. But in Bethlehem’s home there was /ound no room For thy holy nativity. D> the -hade of Give me to drink. Thus may I learn to make a virtue out of a necessity. Dr. Gordon happily renders the opaque Biblical expression. “In season out of season.” Unseasonably in season, i. e., making an opportunity out of that which seemed inop;>ortune. Christ was tired, but not too tired to speak a good word. We sometimes excuse ourselves by saying, “I was too tired to do or say anything.” Dear friend, do you not know that the best things that have been done in this world have been done by stress and struggle, after someone has reached the tired point. If we wait till we are thoroughly rested the good work will never be done. Let us do as did Christ. • He made his very weakness an occasion, ho ' utilized his earthly wants. Le rested to the glory of God and met this needy woman. Thirsty, he asked drink and made it the ' occasion for one of the sweetest sermons of help and comfort in all the sacred page. Lord, make my infirmities occasions for good. May Ibe tired to rest some one else: may my thirst lead to the opening of f nintains in other arid souls. | Living water. That is better than the boasted water of Lourdes, however high they pile their cast-away crutches—helps that ought possibly to have been put away long before—around about it. It is better than the fountain of perpetual youth for which poor Ponce de Leon sought, and =ought vainly, and to his loss. Or rather it is that fountain. Youth is here, a youth

that renews Itself as the ea^le. that runs and is not w -ary, because it’’has meat to sat that men know not of, that walks and i does not faint, because it laves its brow in the waters of eternity. Living water is the word, not dying. The latter was the kind poor, misled Constantine thought to find waiting till death for the waters of conseTation. Christ brines us a refreshing that is io be to-day enjoyed. It springs up here and now into everlasting life. O! that ail j life might be refreshed of it. Educational ! life, industrial life, social lite. God means that eternal life that is in his Pon to flow like a river right down by our schools of learning and marts of H ade, and to water । all the homes of the land. i In spirit and in truth. Then I can worship him anywhere, any time, “In spirit” —spiritual 'worship: “in truth”—sincere ! worship. If God’s spirit be with me and my spirit be with God, there is God’s temple, there is true worship. I need no ■athedral, I need no pulpit ; I need only God, and him I have. “Brother, what do I you get out of this passage?” My friend looked up out of his bed of sickness and .here was strength in his eyes if not in his I voice as he murmured: -Two worlds, not far apart.” No, indeed. Spirit and truth ' ire the tv.o spans of the bridge on which ,-ve cross. Yea, in the spirit we even now mti ipaic the glories of heaven, and in mth we enter into its songs and rejoicings. What else is worship than this?—to enjoy God here and now.

Next Lessen. —‘Christ’s Authority.” John >: - Sulyevtv of Thought. The heal, however strong it may be, -an accomplish nothing against the ieart. Men often judge the nersQm butnot^^/’" ‘Jie cause, which is not justice,' out malice. There is no moment in life in which we cannot find comfort in the thought khat God loves us. Hope is 'ike the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of >ur burden behind us. It is not oa y to become good all at mce, but x .an very easily become a little better than we are.