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* • >* 1 ' \ ' '••.;> 1 .• .••"< ^ • .^ . *;•< ;".^' vM"t *>jgf.. • ^w^:^--;-*^; ' ^i;r;^, *c*. Isuiwkp. "• *AX SMltE, Miter * FvMisher. f|c&ENRY, ILLINOIS. GIVING AND TAKING. WHXTTXER contributes to the Old South F&ix pa­ per this versification of a poem by Tinnevaluva, • Hindoo poet of the third century of our era, who, he says, was "a hater of idolatry, and had an almost Christian conception of God and duty." Who gives and hides the giving hand. Nor counts on favor, fame or praiae. Shall find his smallest gift outweighs The burden of the sea and land. Who gives to whom hath nought been given, His gift in need, though small, indeeo, As is the grass-blade's wind-blown aeed, la large as earth and rich as Heaven. Forget it not, O man. to whom A gift Bhall fall, ̂ nile yet on earth;' _ Yea, even to thy seven-fold birth Recall it in the lives to come. Who broods above a wrong in thought Bins much, but greater sin is his Who, fed and clothed with kindness, , Shall count the holy arms as nought. Who dares to curse the hands that bless Shall know of sin the deadliest cost; The patience of the Heavens is lost Beholding man's unthankf ulness. For he who breaks all Jaws may still In Sivam's mercy be forgiven; But none can save, in earth or heaven, The wretch who answers good with ill; TWO SIDES OF A SENTIMENT, WHEN two-year-old May-Blossrf^ » Comes d»wn in clean white dress And runs to find " dear Auntie," And claim her sweet caress;-- Then Auntie takes up Blossom, And her eyes--they glow and shine, "Oh, pretty Baby Blossam--if yon were only mine! k WThen Bltmsom, in the pantry, &)gh mounted on a chair. Has nibbled at the icing Until half the cake is bare, . • * Then Auntie puts down Blossom, And Jier eyes--they glow and shine, "Oh, naughty Baby Blossom--if you were only mine! y--Scribnerfor January. A PLOT, AND HOW IT WORKED. 44 "to-MORROw's Christmas, ain't it?1* ! said. **4Why, of course it is," she answered, arid by the way she said it, I inferred that I ought to have known to-morrow was Christmas, and, on reflection, so I ought. But, seriously, I did know it would be Christmas. I merely wanted to introduce Christmas as the subject of conversation, and now that it was the subject, I hardly knew what to say next. So I compromised by saying: "I'll take another cup of tea, please." "Why, your cup isn't empty yet, John," said my wife. "What's the matter with you to-day?" "That's a fact. I didn't notice it was full--all right. That's a good-sized turkey I got for to-morrow; aon't vou think so?" Yes, I think it is," Don't you think it's rather large for us two?" " Oh, you know cold turkey is--" "Yes, we had cold turkey for a week after Thanksgiving. I thought it was g*!r _ ing to last till Christmas. I was tired of it." j" Well, why didn't you get a smaller one this time?" "That's so; I might have done it, mightn't I? I never thought of that." "Well," I said, "this one is pretty Urge for two, but for three or four, BOW, it would be--" "Oh, yes; you want to ask some one to dinner, I know you do." " Really, now, I don't." "Yes you do; who is ft--which of your old cronies; which one?" " I assure you I never thought--" " Who is#it?" ^ Well, you know, Fred Singlemann " Now, see here, John. Old Single­ mann boards at one of the best hotels in Detroit, and will get a better dinner than we have to give him." " Of course; but you see, my dear, it iqp'tihe dinner alone. On Christmas a man likes a good dinner, of course, but that is not all. I can't help thinking that a man must feel rather lonely, eat­ ing . Christmas dinner at a hotel. Christmas is a time when our feelings entwine--" j" Oh, nonsense. Old Singlemann has nh feelings to entwine, or if he has, why didn't he get married years ago, and then he wouldn't have to be lonely and board out? At his age " "Now, there's where you mistake. Singlemann is not old; but nevermind, we won't ask him." " Why not, pray?" " I shall not ask him, at least." J,4 Well, if you don't, I will." , 44 Look nice, you going to a hotel to ask a man to dinner. " If my husband won't do it for me, I suppose I must." 44 Oh, if you insist, I'll ask him, of effrse." * I*f Then I insist." s^fhis was why I wanted the subject of Qhtistmas introduced. I knew Single­ mann must be rather glad to escape his splendidly-furnished rooms for one day. Of course, every one in this city knows the mercantile house of Demark & Co. Singlemann and I were the Co., and Demark--well, of course, he was De- mark. Demark and Singlemann had roomed together when tney were boys and young men. Then Demark got married, and Singlemann took the rooms he has now. / 44 Singlemann, old fellow/f I said when we sat alone in the courfting-room after the store was closed Christmas Eve--"I have a turkey which I want help on to-morrow. Come down to dinner." " Too late, my boy; I just promised Demark to go up with him to-morrow. Hte wife particularly requested it, and Sb"I didn t like to refuse, you know." " Oh, of course not. Very nice little WQman, Demark's wife is." **4 What!" said Singlemann, so fierce­ ly and sharply that I was quite startled. . I said Mrs. Demark was rather a fine lady!" " Certainly! certainly!" said Single­ mann, looking somewhat abashed. Then, after a pause, he said: " Ididn't exactly catch what you said at first." The fire was slowly smoldering in the grate, and the shutters were closed. I poked up the coals and remarked that itiooked a little like snow outside. "I always feel a little queer and nervous on Christmas Eve," said Singlemann, evidently thinking about his abrupt ejaculation a few minutes before, and not heeding what I said; 44 you mustn't mind me. 44 What's the. .natter, Singlemann?" said I. , 44 Didn't I cter tell yon about it?" he said. 44 No." " If I hadn't acted like a fool," he replied harshly, speaking more to him­ self than to me, " it might have been different, now." I presumed that it would and so didn't contradict him. "I thought yon knew how near I eame to getting married ronce," he said, with an attempt at a laugh. The laugh wouldn't come and so he took the poker from me and vengefully poked the fire. 44 When I used to clerk here, you know Demark and I roomed away out Woodward avenue. It was thought to be nearly out in the interior of Michi­ gan then, but it's different now. Every morning as I came down the avenue 1 met a young girl. There were no street cars then, and beside if there had been--well, we practiced economy, you know--that's why we boarded away out there in the country--but that girl--I didn't notice her very much at first, and Demark, he never noticed her at all. We both came down to­ gether. Demark was always thinking on business; he was-- Have a cigar? Listening is dry work; smoke and make it dryer. 4'Why, Singlemann, you know I never smoke; go on." 441 told you I was queer to-night. Did you ever notice how wrapped up De- mark is in business? Businessovill be the conversation over the turkey to­ morrow. I tell you young men nowa­ days " 44 How about that girl?" 44 Oh, yes--she always dressed plain­ ly, but you ought to have seen her. I tell you, John, young ladies nowadays think of nothing but dress, and yet with all their silks and feathers " 441 know; Solomon, in all his glory * was not arrayed like your Woodward- avenue belle--in plain clothes." He poked the fire for nearly two min­ utes, and I began to fear that I had made a blunder and lost my story. 441 think anyone must have fallen in love with her, but I could never get Demark to see it. I never cared for anyone before or since. I was com­ pletely--but what's the use of talking of that. I met her every morning. She always looked straight ahead, ana never seemed to knsw that she passed the same two fellows every day. Where did she live? Wrhat did she do? One night in December, as I came up late from the store, I was astonished to see my young lady--I called her mine-- standing at a desk in a counting-room. Her hat and cloak were flung on the desk beside her, and she was evidently just ready to leave. The loveliest lit­ tle frown was on her brow, and the fig­ ures evidently wouldn't add up right. The lamp-light shone on her fair face, and it never looked so handsome be­ fore. I stood before the window and gazed there in rapt admiration and, I may say, adoration. I tell you, John, I don't believe that people nowadays know what it is " 44 Well, did she come out?" 44 Of course she did," said Singlemann a little crossly, 44 and equally of course I followed her at a distance and saw where she lived. She walked straight on and did not seem a bit afraid. She seemed to set her lips closely together, draw her cloak around her and walked swiftly to her destination. Several times I determined to speak to her, but had neither courage nor excuse. 4 De- mark,' said I when I reached my room, 4 wake up, wake up,' and I shook 44Singlemann," said I, "I am not Demark. There is no use in shaking me." 441 beg your pardon," continued Sin­ glemann, releasing his grip on my shoulder. 441 don't think you care much about what I am saying, though What interest can you have--" 44 Now don't fly off at a tangent in that manner. Or course I want to know how it turned out. What did you say to Demark?" 44 Nothing that night. You can't waken Demark when he once gets to sleep. Why, one (time when we were boarding down on Jefferson avenue, a fire broke out about two o'clock in the morning, and I--"" 44 Well, but about this girl?" 44 Oh yes; Next morning I unfolded my plans to Demark. It was the day before Christmas. I told him all about my discovery of where she was em­ ployed. Now," said I, 44 she's anxious to get the accounts straightened out before the end of the year. 44 4 Evidently,' says Demark. 44 Well, very likely she'll be there late to-night; now we'll follow ner--you on the opposite side of the street and I on the same side she is, and you cross over and speak to her and try to make her take your ftrm, then she'll scream and I'll rush up and rescue her, and, of course, see hej^home and get acquaint­ ed." 44 Rather an ancient device," I re­ marked. 44 Perhaps it is now," said Single­ mann, in an irritated manner. 44 Young men of the present day are up to al­ most anything, but I never heard of it before; of course, it was silly--I guess I know that without being told of it, but nowadays people think " 44 No they don't; Singlemann, go on with what * you were saying. Demark consented, of course?" 44 No, he didn't; that is, not at first. He got indignant at having all the dis­ grace of the operation and none of the pleasure, but I explained to him that he didn't care a cent for the girl, while I was madly in love with her, and con­ juring him by all the ties of friendship, he at Jiast reluctantly consented. You see, Demark never cared anything about girls, or such as that; he was all business. I have often said to him, jokingly,^of course, that I believed that 44 Singlemann--%o on With that dia­ bolical plot of yours, and never mind Demark. I know him well enough." 44 Of course, you do. Well, all the way down to the store where she worked, Demark was saying what a mean thing it was for two young men to conspire to frighten the life out of a girl on the dark streets of a city. We got there at last, and she. was" at her desk. Ah! John, when I picture how she stood there--but that's no matter. I thought she would never come out-- it seemed ages. I never could have stood it, only t it kept all my attention getting Demark to stick to his promise, Tor he wanted to back out, now that we were on the spot. You know Demark is the very soul of honor. Why, when Beat & Embezzle failed, you know, we needn't have paid a cent, for they held no " 44 Singlemann, do you remember that I know the whole particulars of that failure." 44 Certainly. That's, a fact, I forgot that; well, Demark waited to go home again and begged me to release him from his promise, but I wouldn't, and he stuck to his contract like a man--he always does, you know. Well, just as the City Half bell struck eleven"-- 44 Oh, oh! Singlemann--keep straight now. Why, man, the City Hall was rttot built then." 44 That's so--I am telling a straight story for all that slip. Some bell struck eleven., I had my face pressed close against the pane, but where she could not see me, and as the hour was tolled she shut the heavy ledger toth a bang that made me start, and I heard her say, "Only an hour till Christmas," and she smiled. John, she looked di­ vinely--like an angel, only angels don't keep books, excepting the Recording Angel. But just then Demark began begging off again. She came out, and as before Walked rapidly away. 44 Now," I whispered to Deatark, 44 remember your promise." He crossed the street without a word, and I followed the girl. Demarkjicted his part like a man, or a villain, rather. He crossed back again and coming up to her, said! 44 Madam, allow me to see you home," and offered his arm. My heart beat wildly, but I prepared for a rush on Demark. She didn't scream--she hurriedly looked up and down the road and saw that apparently she was alone with this man. I could see by the light of the lamp that her face was deadly pale, but in a calm voice (the sweetest voice I ever heard) she said: 44 You may walk beside me if yon will," Demark would rather have taken my knock-down than that, and looked ex­ ceedingly sheepish as he walked along with her, and I followed behind not knowing what to do, as this was a totally unexpected turn in the affair. Thus did the strange trio proceed for about a quarter of a mile, when sud­ denly a policeman and a lantern loomed up from a doorway he was examining. Like an arrow she sprang from De- mark's side and grasped the astonished policeman by the arm with both hands. 44 Sir, sir," she cried, now in the wildest excitement, which showed how pent-up her fear had been before,44 that man has insulted me, when he thought no one was near--arrest him," and her eyes fairly blazed with scorn as she pointed at Demark. 44 Madam," said my unfortunate friend, 44 if you " 44 Don't speak to me, you--you cow­ ard," she replied, contemptuously. Then suddenly and without a word she turned and walked rapidly away. The policeman placed his hand on Demark's shoulder. Demark had been standing there transfixed, with his eyes following the retreating figure of the girl. He seemed to wake up and flung the hand of the policeman from his shoulder. 44 Come, my man, none o' that," said the officer. 44 Keep your hand from me," cried Demark. The policeman drew his club and grasped Demark again, and *1 sprang to the rescue of my friend, but some­ how I ran against that club, and so if you want the details of the scuffle you must ask Demark or hunt up that policeman. Demark saw Christmas morning dawn through the bars of the lock-up. I had an interview with him, and found liim very mueh depressed. He didn't give a cent, he saia, about the arrest, Dut the meanness of the action was what hurt him. I proposed to see our employer and have him go De- mark's bail, or else have the affair hushed up, if possible; but Demark positively forbade any such proceeding, beside, it would inevitably result m the discharge of both of us. I left the cell as dejected as Demark was, and didn't know what to do. I resolved to do an act of justice, however, and accordingly went direct to the residence of the young lady, and rapped at the door--there was no bell. I had no sooner done so than I re­ membered that I didn't even know what name to ask for: However, the young lady herself opened the door and put an end to my embarrassment on this score, but increased my embarrass­ ment on a thousand other scores. I told the whole story, putting the blame exactly where it belonged. She never said a word during the recital, but sat there with that straight-ahead look in her eyes, and I halt doubted whether she paid any attention to what I said. She bowed me out without a word, and I went home more depressed than ever. After thinking the matter over, I resolved to go to our employer and lay the whole case before him in spite of what Demark had said, and, by as­ suming the whole blame, as of course I ought to do, and accepting my dis­ charge, he might get Demark out and keep him in his employ. It was no fun to lose a good place then, I can tell you; nowadays people change around more. There's that young Smyth, who kept accounts for us last year. I hear he's in San Francisco, and I guess doing firstrate. I told Smyth when he left that if " 44 Never mind Smyth," said I; 44 did your employer get Demark out?" As I was saying, I started down to see him, when I met -Demark himself. 4 Why, how did you get out?' I cried, joyfully." Oh,' said Demark, glum as an oyster, 4 Pierce, where that girl keeps books, came down and the complaint was withdrawn.' 44 That was all," said Singlemann, with a sigh. 44 But the girl," saidl, 44 did you ever know what her name was? Did you ever see her again?" 944 Well, yes," said Singlemann, pok­ ing up the now dead fire. " She's Mrs. Demark. I take my Christmas dinner with them to-morrow."--Detroit Free Religious. National Forfftriak THE crime of forgery has by no means been confined to individuals. Shame to say, Governments have been engaged iri it. Mr. N icholls, a mem­ ber of the British House of Commons, openly charged the English Govern­ ment with encouraging the manufac­ ture of forged paper for the purpose of depreciating the National credit of countries with which it was at war; and a Judge of one of the highest courts of the realm declared that, under such circumstances, it was a moral act." During the reign of Mr. Pitt, another member stated, in the course of a speech in the House, that that gentle­ man had caused an immense amount of French assignats to be forged at Birmingham to affect the finances of that country. / The French, it seems, were no better than the English in that respect. When Hamburg, a free city, was in the hands of the French, in the first quarter of the present century, the command­ ing General gave out a large amount of English bank notes to be exchanged for other money, knowing them to be forged. Agents loaded down with them were sent to England to pass them, by other French civil and mili­ tary officers. Two of these were caught and hanged. During the later days of the Napole­ onic dynasty, when the leagued armies of Europe were pressing the Corsiean tyrant to his last corner, Eugene Beau- harnais was compelled to forsake his Italian Viceroyalty and fly toward France with his army. Part of his way led through the Austrian Tyrol. An immense amount of notes upon the Bank of Austria had been forged, and were distributed on the march. They were sold at the rate of two or three crowns a basket full. This fraud was not the speculation of private soldiers, or even officers, but was contrived and, abetted by Napoleon himself, whose idea was the demoralization of the Austrian finances.--Boston Commercial Bulletin. FACTS AND FIGURES. THERE have been 252 Popes. GERMANY prints 12,000 books every year. GREAT BRITAIN has <30,000 veloci- pedists. A CUBIC FOOT of hard coal weighs ninety-four pounds. KENTUCKY has l.ObS granges, with a membership of 35,933. THERE are 1,443 convicts in the State Prison at Auburn, N. Y. IN 1852 Texas moved 65,052 bales of cotton; in 1876-77, 506,735. , IT is a fact that 243 English persons went mad from love last year. A CISTERN five feet in diameter and five feet deep holds 732 gallons. KENTUCKY paid $10,947 for wolf, fox and wildcat scalps the past year. FRANCE can put on a war footing 1,738,000 men and 209,400 horses. HAWKINS COCNIY, Ga., has a spring which ebbs and flows every two hours. RUSSIA estimates that next year's campaign will cost her about $400,000,- 000 in gold. THE total cost to the State of New York of suppressing the railway riots was $206,000. THERE are now 2,265 letter-carriers employed in the free-delivery service of the United States. GEORGIA supports 99,415 canines, who, during the year ending April, 1875, destroyed 28,625 sheep. THE cultivation of tobacco in Ger­ many occupies some 54,000 acres, prin­ cipally in the Southern States. THE annual production of beeswax in the United States amounts to about 20,000,000 pounds, valued at $5,000,- 000. IN abundant years, 1,500,000 barrels of apples are exported from New York, in addition to those consumed at home. DURING 1877, the United States yent 105,000,000yards of cotton goods abroad, ten tenies more than was exported the year before. THE highest wages paid to the train­ men on the railways of Austria are given to engineers, and the amount is $627 a year. ASHES from the recent eruption at Cotopaxi, in Ecuador, are said to have fallen at a distance of 1,000 miles from the volcano. THE expenditure by the English Gov­ ernment for education, science and art has increased from £26,750 in 1835, to £3,972,008 in 1875. THE total valuation of property in New Orleans this year is $111,116,395, a falling off of nearly $1,000,000 from last year's assessment. THE British astronomer-royal's de­ duction from the transit of Venus is that the distance of the sun from the earth is 93,300,000 miles. IN Central Georgia, the annual aver­ age cost per head of keeping sheep is fifty-four cents; average cost of raising a pound of wool, six cents. IN a speech at Rochdale, Eng., John Bright said that one-third of the whole land of the United Kingdom, being no less than 23,000,000 acres, belongs to 935 men. MORE than 150,000 boxes of clothes­ pins are annually shipped from this country to England, and great quanti­ ties to New Zealand, the Sandwich Isl­ ands and Australia. THE receipts of lumber at Albany, N. Y., from the opening of navigation to Nov. 15 were 305,045,900 feet, 50,- 000,000 in excess of the receipts for the same period of 1876. THE total shipment of coal over the Reading Road and the Schuylkill Canal for the year ending Nov. 30, 1877, was 5,437,213 tons--an increase over 1876 of 1,275,368 tons. The total increase of all the anthracite coal fields over 1876 to Dec. 1 is 1,195,814 tons. -A dead shot--A spent ball. " WHAT LACK I TETF% I " ̂ °°to dw*ia* would'st T^jou have me That I may have eternal life in Thee? , m a J®1* within Thy kingdom new; t -- What further sacrifice remains for me?< < v The things that Thou hast mentioned- Most sacredly observed, and ever set My heart intent on godliness, whereby .. I would m truth be free; what lack I y«l?" Loved one --the goodly Master now responds-- If perfect thou woukr«t. be, go sell thine all, And give unto the poor, release their bonds. Then come and follow me," Most blessed call! And yet behold the sorrowful effect! * The sacrifice too great, for great indeed, ! 4 Were earth s possessions thus to resurrect J C': And unto God the miscr'd soul to lead, A/V#. Away the anxious face with sorrow turns. With feelings of dismay and deep reirret, Thou«;i lor eternal life the snmt Yearns-- Comtw forth m words of tjrief-- ftiicti. Ah, is the sacrifice too great to make? ^" * A life of worldliness to lay aside? • The Christian pathway cheerfully to take? And ir. the loving grace of God abide? Thou surely shalt have treasures stand In Heaven, If cheerfully the price thon'lt fully pay, If Unto God thy time and strenjrth be given. To walk with care the self-denying wav. Though worldly riches be the selfish part That calls for sacrifice, though great or iUUill, Or be the idol sinf ulness of heart, That seeks indulgence, allied to the fall; # Whatever be the part for sacrifice. If God's pure love in all in all to thee, " From worl<My loves and pleasures thon may'st rise And in My kingdom have a part with Me." --Jag. O. ButteU, in Maker. Bttnday~School Lessons* FIRST <JPAKTKR. 18T& Jan. &--Rehuboam, Firet King of Judah 2 Cliron. 12:1-12. Jan. 13.--Asa faithful to his God. 2 Chmn. 14:1-11. Jan. 20.--The Covenant Henewed.2(-hrtm. 15:8-15. Jan. 27.--Jehoeaphat'sl'rosperity'i ('hron. 17:1-10. Feb. 8.--Jehosaphat Repioved. .2 Chron. 19: 1-9. Feb. 10.-- Jehosaphat Helped of God. 2 Chron.20:14 22. Feb. 17.~Joaslt- IJepairina the Temple V . .2 Chron.24: 4-18. Feb. 24.--Lawih | Praie I hn- >hed...... X A.. 1, 2 Chron^C :l6-23. Mch. 8.--Alia® Persist nt Wick­ edness.. .. j. J. 2Chron.28:19-27. Mch. 10 Hez knih> Goodlteicn. 2Chron.29: 1-11. Mch. 17.--Hezekiah and the Assyrians 2 Chron.32: S-2L Mch. 24.-Manasseh Brought to Repentance. 2 Chron.13: 9-16. Mch. 81. Review of the Lessons for the Quarter. M is hard to speak seriously of it, or to win thoughtful attention to it. But Is it a matter for jesting? Is it a l-elation to be entered into heedtettiy, with laughter and thoughtless gk*T Look beyond the marriage day, one year, ten, twenty years--is it a matter for jesting only? Is it not infinitely the most seri­ ous and important matter in all life? Look at the stories, written in tefers and blood, of countless lives that started out with laughter and song and care­ less words, amid the flowers and wreaths and music and glad bells of tho marriage hour* but for which few mora flowers bloomed or few more bells rang merry chimes. Is it not too serious for jesting? fe; Some one has said that marriage a rook, on which the life is either an­ chored or wrecked. And never was there a truer word spoken. A true marriage is the beginning of a beauti­ ful life; but a mistaken marriage is the gate that opens to a path of sorrow, re­ gret, bitterness, wretchedness, often misery and shame. If there is any moment, then, in all a young woman's life when she needs divine counsel and the loving hand of Christ to guide, it is when she is called to accept or reject the hand offered to her in marriage. A mi-take here will throw its deadly shadow over all her future life. There are many who have atoned in years of anguish and regretful woe for the fol­ ly of one heedless hour. Take the ques­ tion to Christ and trust Him to answer it. Seek for His benediction. Ask Him to wait beside you when you stand at the altar, and amid the joy, festiv­ ity, and song, and streaming lights* .and brilliant beautv. and the congratu­ lations of friends, forget not to look np into His face and implore His blessing. The hands that He unites in marriage shall never unclasp. United in Him* they will clasp again beyond the river. But the marriage unblest bf Him is the beginning of sorrow and pain.--Mev. B. Milhr, in Presbyterian Banner. % • W Perils ef Young Womanhoed* i ; YOUNG womanhood is a period of special and peculiar danger. Thus far life has been a June-day voyage- down a silver stream, amid rich scenery, be­ tween banks covered with flowers. Now it grows real. Important ques­ tions must be settled. Character must take its shape. Aspirations must be kindled. Decisions must be made which will affect all the future. Friend­ ships must be formed which will weave into the life-web either golden threads or hempen. Look a moment at two perilous points in this period. One is the form­ ation of character. What will it be? Thoughtful, studious, serious, dignified, intelligent, earnest, aspiring, noble? Or, will it be light, empty, frivolous, trifling, ignorant, undignified, unwom­ anly? Does not every young woman need Christ to counsel and to help her at this point? There are many in fluences to tempt young ladies to be sat­ isfied with a very shallow and superfi cial character. But what could be more unworthy of those who wear the image of Christ, and who are to wield such mighty influence in the near or remote future, on the formation of other characters? No young woman in these days, with so many opportunities, should grow up in ignorance. She should be ashamed not to be weH edu­ cated. She may not have the privilege of extended school attendance, but she should lay hold upon the fragments of time at her disposal and appropriate them to earnest self-improvement. (A friend of mine learned French in tne odd moments picked up between other duties.) She should discard silly novels and trashy newspapers for books of substantial worth, that will teach her something and not merely fill her imag­ ination with wild fancies and impossible romances. She should seek in all ways to improve her culture, and refine her character, and ennoble her spirit. Womanhood is too noble to be dwarfed and degraded and frittered away in frivolous trifling. Every youn^ woman should rise up in the dignity and grandeur of her soul and say: t "I will make my life truly beautiful and noble. I will not make dress and society my chief end, but mental im­ provement and true elevation of char­ acter. 1 will store my mind with Faith Casts on Ctod its Cans. the T WAS making a call, and talking I a gentleman in his parlor, when door partly opened, and his son, of five summers, distressingly articulated, " Father, I've lost my ball. I threw it way over Miss Hinder's yard, and it rolled into a hole; and I can't see it; and it's gone in the big mud; won't yon fet it for me?" 44 Yes, my child; when am done here I will go and find it; run out now and wait. ' He at onee dried his tears, and brightened, and turned away, and said not One more word about the ball, while I remained. When he came to the door a tremendous load of care was crushing and grinding his little heart; but when 'he left it, he was free and light as a feather, for he had faith in his father's power and Eromise; and upon him he had rolled is burden. The life of children is a life of faith. It is impressive to see, though they know they are entirely dependent lor food, raiment and a home, what implicit confidence they repose in their parents; one which excludes all doubt, banishes anxiety; and they live in simplicity and quietness of spirit, careful for nothing. This is faith in man. If it were transferred from the earthly par rent to the heavenly, it would be futh in God. If God is trusted as an earth­ ly father, we become 44 like little chil­ dren," free from unbelief; we do our duty, and continually leave our life, ana health, and food, and attire, and joys, and sorrows in God's kind, sure keeping. A young lady, the daughter of m noted physician, was taken with a fe­ ver, and she said, 441 am not qualified to prescribe for myself, and if I should attempt it, I should probably grow worse, and perhaps die. My father knows all about this disease, ana he is as desirous of my recovery as I am; so what better can I do than resign myself to him, without concern, and confident that all will be done for me which oan be?" So, faith in God oasts on Him its Watchman. 'm • < care. Hans and Fettr.' ***»*&; knowledge. I w AAA AAV/I/ follow multitude in their idle pursuit of airy nothing. I will cherish lofty aspira­ tions. I will study the lives of the best women who have ever lived, those who have been real blessings to the world. Above all, I will go to Christ and learn of Him. And by His grace 1 will rise above superficialness, fnvolousness and emptiness, and will win my way to all that is beautiful, brilliant, refined and exalted in true Christian womanhood." This question, what she is to be, every young woman must meet and settle. Ana it must be confessed there are strong currents to drift her toward a lifj of silly pleasure and superficial character, which will, in the end, bring misery and sorrow. She needs <|hrist to take her hand and lead her up toward true and lasting beauty, genuine culture, thorough refinement and noble character. The other point of special peril in every young woman's life is when she chooses her friends. The character of these will determine the whole drift and destiny of her future life. If they are frivolous, ignorant, shallow, tri fling, she will drift out with them on a sea of pleasure, until the frail barque of her happiness is wrecked, like the poet's ship of glass, on some hidden rock or treacnerous reef. Many a noble girl, with splendid opportunities, by choosing unworthy companions, has torn herselt away from a grand destiny and doomed her life to groveling and misery. On the other nand, if she joins herself to noble friends, intelli­ gent, refined, studious, thoughtful, as­ piring, earnest, true, she will go with them on and on toward higher acquire­ ments, nobler attainments, deeper joys, greater usefulness. How important at this point to have the counsel of Christ! Brilliance is not depth or real worth. The superficial often glitters the most brightly. The false heart often has the smoothest tongue. Yet many are charmed by an empty purse, a withered heart, and a false tongue. It is the custom to treat the subject of marriage always as a great jest HANS and Peter met one fine mora* ing on the way to market. Hans WJMI large and stout; the world always went easily with him; he troubled himself a* little ss possihk about the cares of life*, and seemed to grow plumper every day. Peter, on the other hand, was thin and slim. He was continually worry­ ing himself about some trifle,, and his • face grew more and more care-wom..' • everyday. * 44 Good morrow, friend -Peter," said plump Hans, in a hearty tono of oheer* 4 Good-day, neighbor!" answered r Peter, solemnly. y • 44 Why are vou so downcast?" asked Hans. * 44 Downcast! Have you no troubles,'*^! retorted Peter, 44 that you cannot u%fv^ - derstand why people look downcast?1* 441?" said jovial Hans. 44I've only one trouble in the world, and that doee not trouble me. My wife complaina * because I have become so stout." ^ 44 Happy man!" exclaimed Petefvi 44 My friends complain because I am thin." . . :• 44 My friends say it makes me # too slowly," said Hans. . | "My wife upbraids me," returned Peter, 44 because I move so very quicks * m ly." , 44 Suppose we change bodies!" sai$ # they both in a breath. And they | changed. Again, in a few months, Hans and • Peter met one fine morning; and HanKi was again large and stout, while Petef ,̂ had become thin and slim. What have you done to my body?*1 . asked Hans. ?' i What have you done to my body?* ̂ asked Peter. i 441 was puzzled at first," said Hans* to know whether I was Hans or Peterj#; :'j but it soon came right." ^ 44 At first," returned Peter, 141 knew ̂ not whether 1 was Peter or Hans, but 4-j as you say, it soon came right" _ Then the difference," remarked ? ^ Hans, 44 is not my body." ^ 44 Nor my body," put in Peter. _ "But," said they both, "oursdveaP' •St. Nicholas for January. --There is nothing more appropriate j than the American custom ot haTing ' -M It J elections on 44 Choose-day.'̂ I*'!.. _ m. : I