v - - • .• •:©: Zt" m m Ĵ êiry l̂airied J. Til U.1KB, Editor * PaMtoher. &CHENRY. "1 "i ILLINOIS. MATES AMABILIS. _ .. . egol ' ®;U_. . Tide of dreams. i fair cradled man-child drifto; h i with cadenced motion slow, •\ To and fro, ' •• JM the mother-foot poised lightly, falls and lift*. fee, the firstling--he. the light •> Of her sight - _*Me, the breathing pledge ®£ So**, Tieath the holy passion lies . «* >•» _ ..... A ; tftmile* to feel the^wardi, life-fciTibgfeay abota. •#he believes that in his vision, • SkieselyBian "v'er an angel-people shine. - JBack to gardens of delight, . Taking flight, His auroral spirit basks in dreams divine. But she smiles through anxious tears: ••' . Unborn yetas " *}*?"% Pressing forward, she perceives. s ii I • Shadowy, muffled shapes, they «|*feTAM Deaf and dumb, ; Bringing what? dry chaff and tales,or foli-eaied sheaves? What for him shall she invoke ? Shall the oak : Bind the man's triumphant brow? Shall inn daring foot alight On the height? : Shall he dwell amidst the humble and the low? Through what tears and sweat and pain Must he gain Fruitage from the tree of life? Shall it yield him bitter flavor? Shall its savor Be midst the turmoil and the strife? In his cradle slept and smiled Thus the child Who as Prince of Peace was hailed. Thus anî h the mother-breast*. , , „ > . Jjtilled to test. 2 K' ,f ?*• £. Child-NaptJeeti down the lilieA river ailod< ̂ Crowned or crucified--the same Glows the flame Of her deathless love divine. the blessed mother standee ? , , In all lands, ' £ Afi%he watched beside thy <r ' w 1 Wtirteo gifts the years beetow, ii . , Still men know, Wrnle she breathes, lives one who sees <Btand they pure or sin-defiled) lint the child • Wj|y|mahe crooned to sleep and rocked upon her --Emma Lazurut, In Scribner for March. <.A fcR. EYERETT. ' 'Vide would be the best prescrip tion for you, young man," said Dr. Everett, looking hard at his patient, 'and acting his languid air and weary Scanner. "It is rather a spring-like div; I think you may come with me WIRIH I go my rounds.1' This remark was addressed to Rob- •qft, Parks, and it was made several weeks after the accident that had shut hipi into one room of Dr. Everett's boarding-house; since which time he Had been a close prisoner, and had been -most carefully watched over by the 4?qrdBaid doctor, until now he was able to walk out a short distance, during peasant days, and had even walked <$pwn to the store, and stood looking on for a few minutes; but the bustle ana life there had confused him and made his head ache, and he came home al most discouraged, feeling that he was never to be able to take his place in the work-a-day world again. It was this Itrorught, a? much ad any, which gave Jniit the languid air and discouraged look, which the doctor didn't like. .However, he brightened visibly over the invitation, and, after an hour of brisk Tiding, admitted that he felt better than he had since his accident. " Then you are ready to make some calls with me?" the doctor said,* rein ing in his horses suddenly before a hand some house. "You will have to come in, for I don't like to have you sit still in the carriage after such rapid riding. i*ut On a dignilied air, and you will be taken for a medical student deeply in terested in this case." Dr. JSverett was so rapid in his move- mints, and so decided in his directions, that there: was no opportunity for de mur, notwithstanding the fact that •young Robert greatly disrelished the fjpaking of a professional call. The House into which they were presently . {admitted was an elegant one, the very hall suggesting unlimited wealth and refined taste in the richness and quiet ness of its finishings. Dr. Everett laid aside his outer wrappings, motioning to Robert to do the same, then raced up stairs, still followed, though slowly, by • -the reluctant, medical student. " Yosi may sit here," he said to him, with a faint smile in his grry eyes, in dicating by a motion of ais hand the location of the ** here." - I Robert was relieved to find himself lfeft alone in a large, handsome room, • its appointments indicating that it was a sort of invalid's parlor. There was ; a bright, clear fire burning in the open grate, a sofa was drawn before it, piled with pillows and cushions, and a Drill- afghan lay across the foot. There were rare paintings on the walls, and bits of statuary on the brackets here and there, and choice-looking books, -And inviting magazines strewn over the tables. Ivies were climbing over the window-curtains, and half-blown roses with other sweet-breathed flowers, filled several fair and costly vases. " A fellow could afford to be sick, and lie by for an entire season, if he " had such a gilded nest as this to rest in," murmured Robert, as he took up <one book after another with interest. 441 wonder who it is, and if there is •serious sickness." The doctor had passed into an inner room, from whence presently his voice was heard brisk and cheery. 44 Well, my friend, how do you feel this morning? The sun is very bright, and the air begins to think about (spring. I think you must be better." What the patient said could not be heard; the voice was low and feeble. But the doctor's answer came full and round: " Oh, you mustn't be disheartened. Had a bad bight, eh? Sorry to hear it, but for all that, you are really better. You must take my word for* it, even though you don't feel so, and try to help yourself with cheerfulness; that's half the battle. We shall have you out taking a ride, if the weather keeps rea sonable." Then other murmured words, and the doctor's answer: •' Oh, never mind your business; it will get along all right; you have faith ful helpers. Beside, my friend, haven't you given it all into the Lord's hands, ley were spinning and isn't it His interest to see that ev erything is as it should be?" "What a queer doctor?" thought Rob ert, and then he fell to wondering whether the weak-voiced patient could be only a dependent in this home of wealth and ease--perhaps a poor clerk like himself, who could ill afford the time for sickness. There was more conversation; strong, earnest words from the doctor. Then came another voice--a lady's: 44 Oh, doctor, I am so glad to think he is better! I felt sure he must be this morning, though he doesn't seem to think so himself. He is in such a hurry to be up and out. He hasn't patience to get well. That last medicine, doctor, acted just like a charm; indeed, all your medicines do." " Easy enough matter to be a doc tor," mutterecf Robert, from his outer rpom. "I'd like that sort of life my self. Handsome carriage and horses; fast driving; a lounge in such elegant rooms as these; compliments and grat itude, and a large bill, cheerfully paid, with blessings heaped forever alter on the doctor's head. Nice life, I declare. I don't see where the sacrifice comes in. The poor country doctors have a hard time of it, of course, but when a man gets to the top, as this one is, I think the fun begins. Some folks have easy times in this world, and some have abominably hard times, and that's the whole ot it." 44 Is that man very sick?" he asked of the doctor, when th over the road again " He has been; is better now; is in a fair way to get out again, if he doesn't spoil it all with his impatience and fretfulness. He is a cranky sort of a patient; thinks he is having the worst time there is in the worlds and all that sort of thing." 44 Is he a poor man?" "Poor! Did his surroundings look like it? Why, he is Mr. Cady, of the firm of Dunlap & Cady, wholesale gro cers, you know, and doing a heavy business." 44 Why, I overheard him grumbling about his business, or something of that kind, and I thought he was a poor clerk, accidentally laid aside in the house of his employer, you know, or something like that. 1 " Not a bit of it. He might possibly be a cheerful man if that were his case; but having his heart burdened with hundreds of thousands, it is very hard for him to take time to get sick. He is a Christian man, too; that ought to help him, but the fact is it doesn't seem to help him as much as it should." " There are a good many people who do not seem to be helped by that ex perience as much as they ought," Robert said, and there was an under tone of sarcasm in his voice. "That is true," Dr. Everett said, em phatically, "which speaks ill for the people who will not allow themselves to be helped, and nothing against the relief which always stands ready to help them." His tone was so emphatic that Rob ert, who realized that his skepticism was only skin deep, was silenced. They had turned into a narrow street, where the houses every moment grew poorer and meaner, and at one of the meanest and most repulsive looking the doctor halted. 44 Here is a patient of*mine," he said. " At least I have been asked to make him such. Come in. The air inside is not particularly wholesome, but there is a brisk breeze blowing up, and you must not sit out in it." What has become of the pleasant side of this profession, if it brought people of necessity into contact with such life as this? That was what Robert thought as he followed Dr. Everett into the one ill-smelling, bare, homeless, comfort less room, where a sick man tossed among the dirty bed-furnishings, and a woman with torn dress and hair un combed, hung over him, and two chil dren quarreled and cried in the corner. " Good morning," said the doctor, cordially. "Iam Dr. Everett. Mrs. Sanders wished me to call here. What is the trouble, my friend?" And he placed his cool, skilled fingers to the throbbing pulse. Then he issued his orders: " Paffcs drop the windows, please, from the top, six inches. Madam, take two of these quilts off, please. Now bring me a dish of cool water, and can you find a place for the children to play, away from this room; the noise is very bad for your husband?" "There is no place for them, sir. Sometimes it seems to me that there is no place for them in the world." And the woman took up a corner of her dirty apron and wiped her eyes. "It is God's world," said the doctor, " and He made your little children; you may be sure He has a place for them." Meantime he was unfastening the gold-buttoned cuffs and laying them aside. Robert, the fastidious young man, watched with a kind of fascinated horror, and saw him produce and shake out a large, fine cambric handkerchief, and deliberately dipping it in the basin of water that had been Drought him he proceeded to bathe the sick man's burn ing face. The wife was horrified, too, though from a different cause. " Are you putting water on him?" she exclaimed. 44 Why, Timmy said he mustn't have a drop of water to touch him; and he said that the window must be kept tight shut,* and the fire was to burn." " And who is Timmy?" the doctor asked, going on with the cool, steady passes of the cambric handkerchief. " Why, he's a good friend that has staid of* nights and took care of my John, faithral, and helped us all. He's a good nurse, too, Timmy is; and he said we muan't wash his face with cold water, and we musn't open the window at all." " Well, now," said Dr. Everett, in a soothing tone, "you see he isn't a doc tor, ana we doctors have all sorts of queer notions, one of them being that people must have air to breathe.' At this point the sick man murmured something in a weak and feeble tone. The doctor bent over him. "Water," he said cheerily. • 44Of course you can have water, as much as you want. Get him a good drink, will you: it will refresh him." The wife stood aghast. 44 What will Timmy say?" she ejacu lated. " He said it would be death to him to drink water, and he has been moaning for it all night and all. the morning, and I didn't dare to give it to him." 4'Then let us have it as quick as you can. It is another notion that belongs to the doctors; and everybody has to obey the doctors, you know." • So saying he supported the head of the sick man on his shoulder while he took long draughts of the water, and then lay back again with a sigh, and an expression very like rest stealing over his face. 44Now," said the doctor, "we have him feeling a little more comfortable. Don't put those quilts on again, you make him too warm, and mind you keep the window dropped as it is now; fire, keep just a blaze: andTet him have a drink of water every ten minutes if he wants it. I will send you down a lump of ice to put iw it. And then yon may give him a powder every hour, and by to-morrow, if these directions are followed, you will find him a good deal better. Is your friend Timmy Nolan? Yes. so I thought. Well, you tell him that Dr. Everett said you must do these things, and vou will find that it will be all right. Kow about these little ones. Your husband needs quiet. If you will let them take a ride with me I will take them around to the in fant room of the asylum, where they can have a orood time and make all the noise they please, and I'll return them to you to-night when 1 come this way." This plan was rapidly carried into effect, and Robert Parks, looking on in dismay, not to say disgust, found him self presently seated again in the doc tor's handsome carriage, with two little bundles of rags at his feet. " Aren't there people whose business it is to do these things?" he asked, his delicate nose curled and his whole manner expressing disapprobation. "Of course there are," the doctor answered, "and I am one of them. I have my commission directly from headquarters. I can show it to you, if you are interested." " But, I mean, is it really your duty to descend among the dregs in that sort of way, washing sick people's faces and looking after mussy children? 1 should think your tastes and talents lay in an other direction." " Rather in the line of houses such as we first stopped at this morning, eh? Well, I shouldn't agree with j-ou. I read long ago a sentence that has had much to do with keeping me from fas tidiousness in my profession. There is no respect of persons with God. That is the wording, and when you take it in, it is a tremendous thought. If God, from his infinite height, can look down upon all the world, having the same wonderful, persistent, over powering love for all mankind, surely I may try to show a little love and a lit tle care for the poor and lowly. The truth is, young man, it seems to me a very small thing to do; and when*! re member the infinite height above us that the Lord occupies, it seems to Me as if there were no very great stretches of difference, in humanity, after all/* To all this Robert Parks had no an swer to make. He began to feel as though there were heights and depths in humanity, and that there was a great stretch between him and Dr. Everett. He reviewed in brief the history of his short life. He remembered what a self-sacrificing thing it had seemed to him to give up his chance for a col legiate education and accept a clerk ship, in order to help his widowed mother and inyalid sister. No, that was hardly the way to put it; simply, in order that he might not be a burden on that mother. Tor, after all, the only help he afforded them was in taking care of himself. Could an able-bodied man do less? And yet he had been ac customed to think of his self-sacrifice with great complacencv. "Also," said Dr. fiverett, breaking the silence, 411 took for my motto an old sentence that is like the flaming sword that reached everyway: 'Take heed what you do. Let the fear of the Lord be upon you.1 Keeping that in mind makes living an important mat ter--makes it just as important for me to do my work well for Thomas Riley as for Mr. Cady, without respect to per sons, you see." " It is a very disagreeable doctrine," Robert Parks said, drawing his foot away from contact with the little Ri ley s. " I don't see how a man in your position and with your abilities can be lettered by it." " Why, the difficulty with that rea soning is that the Lord of £lory has chosen to fetter Himself with it. 4 There is no respect of persons with God.' Those are the very words. They are expressive, you see. What is the use of a man thinking about his * position' or his * abilities' after that.*'- ' « "Oh, well," said Robert, "that is another matter." " I should think it was! Not much comparison between my position and the Lord's, and being bound to remem ber that the Lord died--actually died --for' Thomas Riley, you see my bath ing his face with my clean handkerchief takes very low grade; isn't worthy of being counted or remembered." "If they had been grateful," mut tered Robert, 44 it wouldn't have seemed so provoking; but that ridiculous wom an kept quoting Timmy Somebody to you, as though he must certainly know more than you did." "I know it; it didn't disturb me, however, because the poor woman trusts her friends rather than a stranger. I think rather it was a token that she has right feeling. But what shall be said of those who quote all sorts of human authority, as though they were worth! nfinitely more than the word of the All -wise God." 44 Your thoughts all come back to one. point, whatever subject may be touched," Robert said, with a mixture of vexation and amusement in his tones. " I don't know how to talk about such themes." " Then you mustn't quarrel with the Lord's plans of work until you under stand more about them. I dare say He has a plan for you to work out that you have not so much as looked into yet." Saying which Dr. Everett drew rein at the door of his boarding-house and unceremoniously ordered Robert into the house, and to bed for a rest, whither he went with many new thoughts stir- yr <* * * A #>J --,--«•--. - * --*-->--- ---.--• • .•-- - ^ . . . . . . . vmm ring at his heart, prominent among them being the one that the doctor cer tainly governed his life by motives to whien ne himself was a stranger.-- Herald and Presbyter. , ' »f"|T FACTS AKB MEXICO has 3,000 miles of sea and gtilf coast . , £ A FAT calf is 62.3 per cent water and of 37.7 dry substance. THE amount of trade-dollars shipped from San Francisco to China during the year 1877 was $8,619,000. THE agricultural population of Geor gia is 900,000 souls, and. the number of acres in cultivation is.,* trifle over 600,000. DURING the year 1877 42,260 .paupers in Indiana were cared for at the ex- gense of the various counties in the tate at a cost of $600,626. A KICK point has to be settled by the Canadian customs officers--whether ice from the United States is to be ad mitted free as water, or to pay 17$ per cent. duty. INSIDE of twenty-two years all of the 5,000,000 acres of the free land in Iowa, with the exception of 2,000,000 acres, have been taken up and converted into farms and villages. THE Liberian Exodus Association of South Carolina report that 100,CK)0 col ored persons have signified a^desire to emigrate to Liberia. THE negroes of Georgia, according to official statistics, poll 84,164 votes. They own 457,635 acres of land and $1,199,725 worth of city property. Al together their wealth amounts to $5,- 889,276. THE shrinkage of bank capital in New York City, aooording, to the Sun, since the panic of 1873 amounts to over $16,000,000. Part of this has been lost outright, and part withdrawn and re turned to the shareholders. THE mint shipped over the country in 1876 about $500,000 in small coins, consisting of one, three and five-cent pieces. They went chiefly West and East. In 1877 only about $385,000 in these small coins were shipped. THE vital statistics of New York City show that the Germans are the most healthy class in the community. The rate of mortality among them is nearly 38 per cent, below the general average, while their increase by births is larger than that of any other race. DURING the past two years there have been over 44,000 emigrants from Canada to the United States. This in cludes all classes of laboring men and their families. Of these, in one year, there were over 9,000 skilled mechan ics--or about 18,000 in the two years. THE number of National Banks that failed up to the 10th of December, 1877, was 59, covering capital to the amount of $13,620,100. The amount of claims proved against them aggregated $20,- 015,922. To the same time 200 have gone into voluntary liquidation, cov ering $30,383,100 of capital and $4,- 176,785 of circulation. BORROWING was done on a grand scale in 1877. A list of the issues made in various countries of the world has been made by a Belgian statistician, and set down as $1,680,975,000, against $725,000,000 in 1876, and $330,000,000 in 1875. Of this enormous amount $1,- 154,650,000 was borrowed by Govern ments, National, State and municipal, and the balance by railway and indus trial companies and institutions of credit. KANSAS became a State on the 29th of January, 1861. On her seventeenth birthday she had 700,000 people; $229,- 434,000 in property; $66,000,000 in farm products last year; 2,311 miles of railroad; 133,000 school children, and 4,008 school houses; an interest- bearing school fund of $1,237,931; a land-endowment fund of nearly $3,- 000,000 acres; a college, seminary, or high school in nearly every county seat. THE first official batch of statistics born of the Moffet register, in Virginia, shows that from the middle of Septem ber last to the 1st of February the peo ple of Richmond took 783,668 alcoholic and 706,676 malt drinks. Leaving out the liquids purchased in large quanti ties for exclusive home consumption, the register would chronicle an average of 4,0(K),000 drinks per annum. Adding the registered and estimated unregis tered (one-third more) drinks, the al lowance will be 408 drinks per voter, or 75 drinks per annum for every man, woman and child in the city. He Wasn't Metfb. MR. ELIJAH HITCHCOCK was a Con necticut Constable, whose character was under scrutiny. Deacom Solomon Rising was inquired of about him. "Deacon Solomon Rising," said the questioner, 44 do you think Mr. Hitch cock is a dishonest man?" (Very promptly.) "Oh, no, sir; not by any means. ' "Well, do you think he is a mean man?" " Well, with regard to that," said the Deacon, a little more deliberately, " I may say that I don't really think he is a mean man; I've sometimes thought he was what you might call a keerful man--a prudent man, so to speak." " What do you mean by a prudent man?" " Well, I mean this; that one time he had an execution for four dollars against the old Widow Witter back here, and he went up to her house and levied on a flock of ducks, and he chased them ducks, one at a time, round the house pooty much all day, and ever}* time he catched a duck he'd set right down and wring its neck, and charge mileage; an' his mileage 'mounted to more th?n the debt. Notn- in' mean about it, as I know of, but I always thought, after that, Mr. Hitch cock was a very prudent man.", ^ r ^ --A correspondent asks, whitis th? best method of feeding cattle in wintere We don't exactly know. One man might prefer to take the ox in his lap ana feed him with a spoon. Othei would bring his into the dining-rooi and let him sit at the table with the J Id folks. Tastes differ in matters of thi kind.--New London Telegram. --Trust him little who praises all. PPTHFT* DEPARTMENT > MAGIC MUSIC. . * Kinu, mamma, we're hud enonfh Of * Button, Button,' and ' Blind-m&n's Baft,' Ah. please will you put your work amrr. And tell us of something new to play?" " Well; all go out of the room," she cried, - And when my handkerchief 1 shall IMM, You must by magical mufiic trace lour way to its secret hiding-place. ' i-;: 1 Thus, when Che piano soft and low Itouoh, you're far from the wpot, you know. But when I shall strike it loua and clear, Then look y6u well--you art somewhost MI, 8ilence reigns; then a melody sweet Blends with the patter of dancing fed, And mamma laughed, as she softly played. To see the havoc her children maoe. Behind the ottoman, sofa, stand. In every cranny there goes a hand; Under the oapern, mats and books, ,. 4 -X On all (he brackets, in all the noon#' • Till, happening in the corner, Pai " Th 'apa sits in his easv-chair, ~ e music falls with a sudden And at him the wild young vandals They sack his pockets, they roll him about. They turn his dressing-gown inside out, And when they have search ed him through and through. found, in the toe of his shoe. :j)ona, in Youtif* \ B e P o l i t e . < ; - • . t . . >t.S* ft *• MANY children as they grow older are obliged to learn the rules of politeness as they would a lesson. The conse- auence is, when they appear in society tiey are awkward and blundering. On the other hand, children who have been accustomed to politeness at home, are at their ease in the most polished cir cles, and are saved that confusion and bitter self-condemnation which are sure to follow any breach of the rules of etiquette. Some children, learning from their parents, seem to consider politeness at home afiectation. Brothers who would jump up with alacrity to give an easy chair to some dashing miss of their ac quaintance, will appropriate it to them selves when at home, without the slightest apparent consciousness of the presence of a sister, or perhaps a mother. 44 My brother is as polite to me as any one else when I go out with him," said a girl proudly to a companion. What a reflection on his manners at home! A sister will perhaps accident ally knock over some of the tools with which her brother is busy. An apol ogy involuntarily rises to her lips, but she stifles it on considering that it is only Jack; and all the satisfaction he is offered for disordered plans is a blunt, 44 O!" Angrv reproaches are sure to follow. 44 You are real ugly, Jack, to talk so about such a thing; you know I didn't mean to," is the equally angry rejoinder. Why did she not say so? Two words would have saved all the trouble. In their plays children are constantly meeting with little accidents, for whicli they should be taught to apologise. 1 nave seen the cheek of a child nush with anger, his eyes flash, and a little hand raised to strike the unfortunate breaker of a toy, when, as if by magic, the blow was arrested by these words: 44 Excuse me, I di^ not mean to." Polish is not everything. It is, how ever, something. It is better to have a black kettle that is sound, than a bright one with a hole in the bottom; but there is no reason why the sound one should not be bright too. It is of the first importance that children should possess these sterling qualities which fit them for battle with temptation and sin; but do not send them out in the world in great clod hopper boots. Shine them up, and both happiness and influence Will be increased.--Advance. * ! How Matches are Hade. A MATCH is a small thing. We sel dom pause to think, after it has per formed its mission, and we have care lessly thrown it away, that it has a history of its own, and that, like some more pretentious things, its journey from the forest to the match-safe is full of changes. The match of to-day has a story far more interesting than that of the old- fashioned match. As we have said, much of the timber used in the manu facture comes from the immense tracts of forest in the Hudson Bay Territory. It is floated down the water-courses to the lakes, through which it is towed in great log-rafts. These rafts are di vided; some parts are pulled through the cauals, and some by other means are taken to market. When well through the seasoning process, which occupies from one to two years, the pine is cut up into blocks twice as long as a match, and about eight inches wide by two inches thick. These blocks are passed through a machine which cuts them up into 44 splints," round or square, of just the thickness of a match, but twice its length. This machine is capable, as we are told, of making about 2,000,000 splints in a day. This number seems immense when com pared with the most that could be made in th© old way--by hand. The splints are then taken to the "setting" ma chine, and this rolls them into bundles about eighteen inches in diameter, ev ery splint separated from its neighbors by little spaces, so that there may be no sticking together after the 44dip- ng." In the operation of " setting, a ribbon of coarse stuff about an Inch and a half wide and an eighth of an inch thick, is rolled up, the splints beinj laid across the ribbon between eac two courses, leaving about a quarter of an inch between adjoining splints. From the 44 setting" machine the bundles go to the 44 dipping" room. After the ends of the splints have been pounded down to make them even, the bundles are dipped--both ends--into the molten sulphur and then into the phosphorous solution, which is spread over a large iron plate. Next they are hung in a frame to dry. When dried they are placed in a ma chine which, as it unrolls the r^^n' cuts the sticks in two across the middle, thus making two complete matches of each splint. The match is made. The towering pine which listened to the whisper of the south wind and swayed in the cold northern blast, has been so divided that we can take it bit by bit and lightly twirl it between two fingers. But what it has lost in size it has gained in The little flame it carries, which looks so haraaieasr * brief existence, has a latent power more terrible than the whirlwind which perhaps sent the tall pine-tree crashing to the ground. But the story is not yet closed. From the machine which completed the matches they are taken to the 44 box ers"mostly girls and women--who place them in little boxes. The speed with which this is done is surprising. With one hand they pick up an empty case and remove the cover, while with the other they seize just a sufficient num ber of matches, and by a peculiar shuf fling motion arrange them evenly, then --'tis done! little packages of sleeping fife mother rcsss. Where on The^ UN? uiivcu cv mi cr v,r!icrc each one is placed a stamp certifying the payment to the Government of one cent revenue tax. Equipped with these passes the boxes are placed in larger ones, and these again in wooden cases, which are to be shipped to all parts of the country, and over seas. All this trouble over s«ah little things as matches! Yet on these fire- tipped bits of wood millions of people depend for warmth, cooked food and light. They have become a necessity, and the day of flint, steel and tinder seems almost as far away in the past as are the bow and the fire-stiok of the Indian, Some idea of the number of matches used in North America during a year may be gained from the fact that it is estimated by competent judges thai, on an average, six matches are used every day by each inhabitant; this gives a grand total of 87,400,000,000 matches, without counting those that are exported. Now, this would make a single line, were the matches placed end to end, more than 2,750,000 miles in length! It would take a railroad train almost eight years to go from one end to the other, running forty miles an hour all the time. How apt to our subject is that almost worn-out Latin phrase, " mulfum to parvo"--much in little! Much labor, much skill and much usefulness, all in a little piece of wood scarcely one- eighth of an inch through and about ] two inches long!-- St. Nicholas tor ' • - - • „ , T . *'I Dont Care«M > . v. .• 44 I AM sorry to see my son give w*y to anger," said the patient mother. 1 441 don't care," implied the passkt&y ate child. f > f 44 You will become an ignorant man a unless you study better/' said the , faithful tcacher. • „ 441 don't care," he muttered under his breath. 4< Those boys are not the right sort of companions tor you," said the pas tor. 441 don't care," he answered, turn- , ing on his heel. 44 It is dangerous to taste wine," said his friend, warningly. 441 don't care," was still hi* obsti nate reply. A few years later he was a worthless drunkard, plunging into every sort of excess, ana finally ending a miserable life of crime without hope. 441 don't care" was his ruin, as it is the ruin of thousands. Look out for it, boys and gfSrls. Keep away from it. Don't let it mid a place in your hearts, . or pass your lips. Always care. Care to do right, and care when you have dorjg, wrong.--Exchange. ^ Horace Greeley as a MUCH has been said of late concern- , ing Greeley's folly in lending such enor mous sums to worthless applicants who only repaid him with ingratitude. This' was a remarkable weakness, but it may to a certain degree be explained. Greeley was, during the first seven years of his New York life, a poverty-stricken adventurer, who failed in every effort. He had many hopes of making the New Yorker a success, and, indeed, it was \ the best weekly ever issued in this city, \ but it was swamped by the hard times which followed the panic of 1837. In 1840 he found himself without a dollar, and was glad to engage in the service of the Whig party as editor of the Log Cabin. The salary was $20 per week for six months, which was considered very liberal pay. When the campaign was over Greeley determined to start the Tribune, but unfortunately he had no capital. He tried every way possiple to obtain a moneyed partner, bat was unsuccessful. McEivalh had a few ' hundred dollars, and at last Greeley was glad to accept him, especially as he was a readv business man. When all other applications had failed, the ambitious editor remembered a noted resident of Jersey City who had large resources, and he determined to try another effort. He therefore made a call on this man (the late Dudley S. Gregory), and, having mentioned his case, asked for the loan of f1,000. Alternate hopes and fears moved his breast until he saw Gregory fill up a check for the amount, and the editor departed with a light heart. This loan enabled him to start the Tribune, whicli was the great success of his life, and gratitude so wrought upon him that he determined never to refuse aityr similar application. This rule not only bound him permanently, but its power so increased that at the last- he lost all ability to refuse. He paid Gregory with his first earnings, and after that he lent indiscriminately to all who cared to bleed him. Whenever a loan wap solicited he always recalled the scene when he, too, was a borrower. He re membered how he then felt the im mense importance of those little words yes and no. If Gregory had uttered the latter the Tribune might never have been more than a young editor's dream. That fatal word, however, was not spoken, and Greeley ever afterward fol lowed Gregory's example, though it cost him nearly one hundred times the amount of the original loan.--N. ¥. Cor. Cincinnati Gazette. ,,, < * t f* m ' --The Springfield R?pttb?ic*tn -f!HI not put in any black rules when Mr. Bowles died. It is good' to see that this anti quated style of expressing grief is pass ing away. Nothing is more horrible or in worse taste than a newspaper with its oolnmn rules upside down.--£>sa(ifc» ville Courier-JournaL ?r