6 MIRACLES. r Jt~was winter In all the world. The meadows In miniver. When I leaned my ear to a youth hillside And heard the rootlets stir; All Harth was thrilling and murmuring the »he!l-song of the Sea, And I heard the breathing and whispering Of things beginning to be. And the million voices of the grass Uaying: "We, too, shall be coming to pasi." •Softly I stole to the elm-tree's bole, lx>, the sap was shouting within, And the tree a-tremble from root to soul Of each tip with the coming green; And listening low to the garden bed. Up through the stiffened mold The bulbs were dreaming aloud in red And purple and cloth of gold; With the soft little snow drop's maiden dress "Weaving itself out of earthllness. Then down I knelt by a frost-bound stream. As still as a dead bird's wings, And the water was laughing under the Ice A million musical things, Mad Midsummer murrnurings! And when In the graveyard a face Ice-set I sought, where dead faces be, I/O, under the sod and the icy wet The lips were smiling In violet And the eyes in anemone. Where the mortal dust was visibly Putting on immortality. Xast, I came to a frozen face, Where the clty-co'.d faces are, 'The Ice of its eye, as 1 shivered by, Thawed into a eudden tear. -Ant! the chill mask quivered beneath that heat Till the cold lips broke apart; Then soft thought I: "Spring even here, At work in the frozen heart!" —Grace Ellery Channing, in Youth's Com panion. [BORN TO SERVE By Charles M. Sheldon, I Author of"IN HIS STEPS," "JOHN KING'S I QUESTION CLASS," "EDWARD BLAKE," Etc. {Copyright, WW, by Charleb M. blieldon.J CH AI >T Elt I .—Co.NT IN UED. "But even from a money point of view, mother, su«;h a position as this is not to be despised. If my services are satisfactory, 1 can get $4.75 or even five dollars a week, and my board and lodging and washing and other inci dentals thrown in. Suppose I had a position as a stenographer in one of the offices downtown. I could not pos sibly command over S3O a month. Out of that take my board, lodging, wash ing, clothes, etc. And I could not pos sibly save out of it over ten dollars a month. Whereas, working out at service, I could save twice that much In actual wages. If I go into Bond man's store, for instance, as a sales clerk, 1 cannot get over five dollars a week, out of which I must board, lodge and dress myself. Mother, I have thought it all out, and I feel that I •must go in answer to this advertise ment. I don't mind the social stigma. I do mind the bitterness of living in idleness at home. Let me do some thing useful if it is only for a little while. I am sure a servant can be, useful." "It is a dreadful thought to me, Barbara," said Mrs. Clark with a sigh. *T never dreamed that a child of mine would ever be a 'hired girl!' " "Say 'servant,' mother. 'Servant' is .» noble word. Christ was a servant. Don't you remember Dr. Law's sermon on that word last Sunday?" The girl spoke lightly, not knowing herself the depth of the truth she stated, and yet her mother started and shrunk back almost as if the words were sacrilege. It is possible, how ever, that the oldei woman caught some glimpse of that great Light in the social life of men; for, when she spoke again, it was with a yielding to Barbara's wish that was new to her. "I don't understand you, Barbara. If only the money that your father saved for your education had been more wisely invested, we might—but *t is too late to think of that now. It is the thought that you are throwing away your prejjaration for life on something beneath you that makes me -oppose this. But if you do go from this other motive, that changes matters somewhat." "Of course it does, mother! Let me go. I should not be happy togo with out your consent. I will do this: I will go for a trial. This is probably the only way I can go, anyhow. But, if after- a reasonable time I find it is im possible for me to continue, if even my dream of any possible service to so ciety turns out to be ridiculous or fool ish, I will come back and—and—be a burden to you again, mother, until I Cud out what I am good for in this world." "It is only on some such condition that I am at all willing to have you take this step, Barbara," said her mother, reluctantly, as Barbara rose and stood up by her for a moment in silence. She suddenly stooped and kissed her mother, and then walked over to the window and looked at hfer watch. "After six. I might as well go right aver there now." "They will ask you for references," the mother spoke up, nervouslj', al ready doubting the wisdom of the whole affair. Barbara resolutely gathered up her courage. "I have Prof. White's letter—the Chautauqua summer, mother, I can take those." Barbara referred to a summer's experience when in company with several seniors from the college she had served as a head waiter and housekeeper at a large hotel in a state ■Chautauqua assembly. "They are good as far as they go." •"Yes, mother, and I am sure they will go far enough in this case. This family—" Barbara picked up the pa per and read the advertisement again to g>et the street number correctly— "is in crying need of help. They will drive me away without a trial, jcmferences or no references." rs. Clark did not reply, but looked sod felt very anxious. It was a serious step in her daugh ter's life and under any circumstances it might have a most serious effect on her future. "This will leave me alone here, Bar bara," she said as Barbara put on her hat. "I think I can arrange to come home evenings," said Barbara, thoughtfully. "We will settle it all right somehow,- mother," she added with a cheerful courage she did not altogether pos sess. For since her mother's consent she had begun to realize a little more deeply what she was about to do. "I hope so, dear," was the mother's answer, and then quite naturally she began to cry silently. Barbara went up to her at once, and said: "Bear mother, believe it is all going to be for the best. I must be a breadwinner. Give me your blessing as if I were a knight of the olden time going out to fight a dragon." "Bless you, dear girl," said Mrs. Clark, smiling through her tears, and Barbara kissed her silently, and then quickly walked out of the room as if afraid of changing her resolution. Barbara Clark was not an extraor dinary girl in the least. She was a girl with a quick, bright mind, positive in her convictions, with impulses that were generous and sympathetic, with very little self-esteem, affectionate towards her friends and ambitious to do and be something. It seemed very strange to her that out of all her class in college she was one of half a dozen who had not been able to secure a posi tion even of a secondary character in any school. Her father's death had left her and her mother alone in the world except for a few distant rela tives in the west. Influences that might have secured a place for her were not used owing to a compulsory change of residence to another city caused by Mr. Clark's business fail ures. The intimate circle of close friends that had surrounded the Clarks during prosperity was changed for the cold' wideness of a strange city lacking in personal friendliness. And Barbara and her mother had passed several weeks in Crawford, practically unknown, and with the growing con sciousness that the little legacy and the insurance money were being drained seriously without hope of re plenishing from any source so far as Barbara was concerned. The girl's longing to be a breadwin ner had driven her into many difficult places. Under some conditions she would have gone at once into one of the great mercantile houses of Craw ford as one of its great army of sales women. But at that time of the year every position was filled, except a few places that did not offer anything but starvation wages under conditions that Mrs. Clark positively would not allow Barbara to accept so long as there was the slightest hope of the girl finding an opportunity to teach. So for several weeks Barbara had been, as she said, not unkindly, eating her bread at home in bitterness, because 110 one seemed to need her in the great world, where the struggle for exist ence seemed to her to be a struggle that made any other existence more and more impossible. It was therefore not without a posi tive feeling of relief that Barbara Clark now hurried onto No. 30 Ham ilton street to secure the position of "hired girl" in a family of five, en -1 tire strangers to her; and she smiled a little to herself at the thought of her "I HAVE COME IN ANSWER TO YOUR ADVERTISEMENT." anxiety lest a number of other girls should have been before her and se cured the place. "I am in a hurry to look into the jaws of my dragon," she said, as she tutned the corner into Hamilton street. "I do hope he will not swallow me down at one mouthful before I have had' a blow at him with my—my—broom stick," she added, not caring whether the metaphor were exact or not. She paused a moment when she reached No. 30, and was pleased to note that the house was not too large nor too small. "Just an average family, I hope. Well, here goes," she said, under lier breath, as she rang the bell. She had studied Latin and Greek at Mount llol yoke, but "Here goes" was all she could think of to express her courage at that moment. After all, "Here goes" may be as good a battle cry as any other to alarm a dragon, especially if back of the short cry is a silent prayer for strength, such as Barbara offered up at that moment. There was no immediate answer to her ring and she rang again. Then there was the patter of a child's step in the hall and the door was opened.. "Is your mamma at home?" Barbara asked with a smile. The child did not answer at once, and Barbara took the liberty of stepping into the hall, still smiling at the child, who continued to look at her gravely. If dragons are to be met, why not with a smile? "Will you please tell your marnmi CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, AUGUST 15, 1901. I would like to sec her? Tell h«r I have come to see if she wants a— "A hired girl'.'" asked Carl sudden ly, for it was he. "Yes," continued liarbnra, smiling; "tell her a hired girl wants to see her." "All right," said Carl, slowly. lie left Barbara standing awkwardly in the hall and started upstairs to call his mother. Near the top he met her coming down. "Another one of those girls," be gan Carl, in a good, sturdy voice; but his mother said: "Hush," and in a tired manner ordered him togo back upstairs and stay with Lewis until she came up. She came down and met Barbara in the hall. There were two chairs there, and Mrs. Ward sat down, say ing: "Won't you take a seat?" look ing at Barbara closely as she did so. "Thank you," said Barbara, quiet ly. "I have come in answer to your advertisement in the evening news." "Y r es," said Mrs. Ward, slowly. "Are you—do you think you can do our work?" "I thiTfk so," replied Barbara, mod estly. "Can you take charge and goon without being told how to do every little thing?" Mrs. Ward asked some what sharply. She was silently, but rapidly, noting everything about Bar bara's face and dress and manner. "Yes, ma'am, I think I can, after learning your ways." "Your name?" "Barbara Clark. I live- with my mother on Randolph street, two blocks from here." "You have worked out before?" Mrs. Ward was beginning to note the quiet refinement of the girl, and her first thought was a suspicion of Bar bara. "No, I have never worked out as a servant in a private family. I have been a waiter and cook and house keeper one summer season at Lake View Chautauqua. The only refer ences I have are from Prof. White, who had charge of the assembly that year." "Prof. Carrol Burns White?" "Yes, ma'am. Of Waldeau acad emy." "He was my son Alfred's teacher there. His reference would be enough." Mrs. Ward spoke eagerly, looking at Barbara even more keenly. "But you are not a—a servant girl?" "I am, if you decide to take me," replied Barbara, calmly. Mrs. Ward looked at the girl thoughtfully. "I do not think—we— you are not of the class of servants I am used to. May I asl;, is it—may I ask how you came to be seeking this work?" "Certainly," replied Barbara, cheer fully. "I have tried to secure other places, and have failed. I think lean suit you as a servant. I—" Barbara hesitated. She thought if she tried to say anything about her studies in social economics, or the ad venture of this plan, as she had only vaguely dreamed it herself, she might not be understood. Better wait and let that develop naturally. So she stopped suddenly and sat looking at Mrs. Ward quietly. Mrs. Ward hesitated also. It WHS an unusual situation. The girl had given enough evidence of being all right, especially if Prof. White's rec ommendation was a good one. At the same time, there was a great risk in hiring a person of Barbara's evident education and refinement. How far would she want to become one of the family? What relations would have to be established between her and the mistress? But Mrs. Ward was thoroughly tired out with a succession of disap pointments in experiences with girls who were incompetent, ungrateful and dishonest. The suggestion to her mind of a good, honest, capable wom an in kitchen and house who could relieve her of the pain of daily j drudgery was a suggestion of such re lief that she knew it came to her that | her decision was almost made up to | take Barbara even if the circum stances in the girl's life were strange and unusual. Barbara suddenly helped her to make the decision final. "Of course, I am ready to be taken on trial. At the end of a week or a month, if you are not satisfied, I shall expect you to say so, and that will end it." "How much do you expect a week?" Mrs. Ward asked, slowly. Barbara colored. She had »never been asked the question before. "I don't know. Perhaps you cannot tell until you find out how much I am worth to you." "Shall we say four dollars to begin with? We have paid more than that —but—" "I will begin on that," replied Bar bara, quietly. "Now, of course, if I come, you will let me know exactly what my duties are, so that there may be no mistakes on my part." Barbara had a good deal of shrewd business sense inherited from her fa ther. "Of course," replied Mrs. Ward, al most sharply. "About my staying in the house—" began Barbara. "I would much prefet to go home at night, to be with my mother." "I don't think that can be managed." Mrs. Ward cpoke with some irritation. "I shall need you in the evening very often." "We can arrange that after I come." Barbara spoke gently again. "That is, if 1 am to come." "Yes—yes"—Mrs. Ward looked at Barbara very sharply —"yes, you can come on trial; 1 am glad to get any one." Barbara colored again, and the oth er woman saw it. "Of course, I did not m<-ah —112 mean 1 am just about discouraged over my housekeeping, and I am nearly down siek over it." "I am very sorry," replied Barbara, gravely. Mrs. Ward looked at lier doubtfully, It was one woman's sym pathy for another spoken in four short words, but the older woman had had her faith in servants so rudely broken so many times that she could not st once accept the sympathy as real. She kept coldly silent as Barbara rose. "Shall 1 come in the morning?" she asked. "Yes, say nine o'clock." "I will bring Prof. White's letters then." "Mamma," cried Carl, at that mo ment appearing at the head of the stairs, "Lewis wants to know if that hired girl is going to—" There was a muffled cry from the bedroom upstnirs as Carl suddenly dis appeared, dragged back into the room 'by the older brother. Barbara smiled, and said "Good night," and went out, saying to herself as she went down the steps: "After all, the dragon was not so bad as I feared. 1 feel rather sorry for the dragon keeper. Mrs. Ward her self," on whose character and prob able behavior, together with that of her family, Barbara gravely dwelt as she walked home. She grew quite animated as she told her mother the story of her adventures so far. The matter of staying with her mother evenings was a subject of earnest discussion. Both agreed that it must be managed if possible. Bar bara went over the interview and gave her mother the best possible picture of Mrs. Ward. "I am sure we shall get on very well. She is a tired-out woman, irritable be cause of her nerves. But lam sure she is a good woman when she is well,*' Barbara concluded, innocently. "The children will bother me, I have no doubt. But I know I can get on. I saw only one child. He has a roguish face, but not bad at all. Oh, the dragon is not what he's painted, mother." "Not yet," said Mrs. Clark, in prophecy. "No, not yet," answered Barbara, cheerfully. She felt almost light hearted to think she had a position, even if it was only that of a servant. [To Be Continued.] MUST HAVE BEEN NATURAL. The II u morons Compliment of Hieliop Wilnicr to an Atrocious I'iuno I'lajer, One of the most kind-hearted men in the world was the late Bishop Jos eph P. Wilmer, of Louisiana, says a southern exchange. He could not hurt the feelings of the humblest mortal. He v'as once traveling in England with his cousin, Bishop Richard Wilmer, when an incident occurred which shows Bishop Joseph's readiness in a trying situation. The two bishops were being entertained by a gentle man who thought his wife had all the musical talent and accomplishment that any human being can possess. H* insisted upon a specimen of her per formance. The two apostolic cousins stood near the piano. Bishop Kichard, recognizing that a compliment would be necessary and difficult to make, quietly stepped back, as most men do on such occasions, leaving the position of honor to Bishop Joseph, wondering what the end would be after"the as sault upon the ivory keys" might sud denly terminate in an awkward selah. Bishop Joseph, like a self-possessed woman, with dignity and sweetness of thought, spoke to the hungry soul of the adoring husband: "Is that touch of your wife natural or acquired?" "Oh, it is perfectly natural," replied the delighted spouse. "I thought it was," said the bishop, "for 1 don't think such a touch could be acquired." A Faltlifill nird Mate. When the British steamship Saxoline arrived at Wilmington, Del., recently, the sailors showed to the government officials, with a great deal of pride, a cage in which were confined two white birds. It appears that when the ves sel, which sailed last from Cette, France, was in mid-ocean, a white heron flew against the rigging with such force as to break its wing, and causing it to fall to the deck. One of the crew immediately took the help less bird, dressed its injuries and placed it in a cage which happened to be on board. Willi the heron at the time of the accident was its mate, and when the injured bird was placed in the cage, the other hovered about and would not leave the ship. For several days it remained, and then the sailors finally opened the cage. The uninjured bird immediately joined its wounded mate and the two remained perfectly contented in their confined quarters. The touching incident made great pets of the two birds, and from captain down to cook the men on board the ship looked after the comfort of the herons and during the vessel's stay at Wilmington took delight in escorting visitors to the cage.—Golden Days. Two View*. Different sermons may be' preached from the same text, and there may be more or less of truth in each of them. "Here is an account," said Mr. Morse, pointing to a paragraph in the evening paper, "of the way in which a boy was saved from drowning by a mastiff which belonged to his cousin. The boy ventured too near the edge of a treacherous bank, lost his foot ing and fell into the lake. The dog dashed in after him and succeeded in pulling him out." "There," said Mrs. Morse, turning an accusing glance upon her ten-year old son, "that, shows how dangerous it is for a boy togo too near the wa ter!" "Why, mother," said the boys in sor rowful astonishment, "I thought father read it because it showed how perfectly safe I'd be wherever I went, if you'd only let him btjy me a big dog!" Mr. Morse coughed, and became dis creetly absorbed in the quotations of mining stocks. —Youth's Companies. IN THE KAISER'S COUNTRY. Thlnga Which Von Muat Not Do If Yon Are u Itriidriit of Ilia Domain. There are many thing's you must not do if you live under Emperor William. Following 1 art- some of the restrictions in Berlin, enumerated in the late G. VV. Steeven's book just published, en title "Glimpses of Three Nations:" "You must not hang 1 beds or clothes out of windows so that they can be Keen from the street. You must not feed horses in streets where there is not room for two vehicles to pass, and in others only with the consent of the occupier opposite whose piece of pave ment you are; you must watch the horse, and undo the traces while he is eating 1 , and when he is done the occupier must clear up the spilt chaff. If you accidentally break a bottle or jug- in the street you must carefully gather up the pieces and take them THE DUCHESS OF SUTHERLAND. Although but little over 30 years old, the duchess of Sutherland has secured a position of Influence in England equaled by few of her countrywomen. She holds a high place as an author and philanthropist, and is a recognized leader in move ments of a charitable nature. A recent fete at Stafford house, her home, illustrates her methods where charity is concerned. By charging sls admission fee and $250 for the use of a table at supper she raised a small fortune for the English lifeboat fund. She is highly esteemed and honored by all classes of English society. away. If you stand on the pavemenl j'ou must leave room for other people to pass. After this it is rather an anti climax to learn that you must not dis charge firearms in the street, nor shoot with crossbows and blowpipes. "If children make a noise in the street their parents can be punished, and 'rambling about in droves' is for bidden after dark. Dogs that annoy people by barking are forbidden, espe cial!}' after ten; if you take your dog out then the nearest policeman bears down on you and wakes the streets with yells of 'That dog—must—not bark!' " PRETTY MARRIAGE CUSTOM. It Wan Inn vi Kuril tort by Q neon Vic toria and Han Hoon Copied by All Her Children. A pretty custom dating from the wedding of the late Queen Victoria, is that a sprig of myrtle which formed part of the bride's wreath wascarefully NEW UNITED STATES MINT AT PHILADELPHIA. r— T sr-ppw TI a . ' VT' :7 ' ' ' •• —• ' r ' - ' . . C . <>.... ;1 „• '• _ - ■ ... .... : Uncle Sam's mint in Philadelphia has hitherto been housed In an antiquated stone structure of small proportions, but the new building, at Sixteenth and Spring Garden streets, Is soon to be completed. It will be, both as regards exterior appearance and interior conveniences, tlie most perfect establishment of Its kind In the world. It will be protected by an entirely new system of electrical alarms, and be absolutely llreproof from cellar to roof. It is intended by the treasury ofliclals to make the coining of gold a specialty at the Philadelphia establishment. cultured, and indue time planted out. When the? princess royal was married sprigs were cut for her bridal wreath from this myrtle tree. The princess, following her mother's example, had one of the sprigs cared for till it be came a full-sized tree, which served for her daughter-in-law's wreath at the wedding of the present emperor of Germany. The custom wns observed in the mar riage of the prince of Wales and all other of Queen Victoria's children and grandchildren. There is already, as the result of *his charming custom, the making of a grove of myrtle trees. Other customs attached to the mar riages of the royal family relate to the bouquet and the wedding cake. Ever since the marriage of Queen Victoria a firm of Windsor florists have had the honor of presenting the one, a Chester confectioner findingitieother, neither accepting payment. NEWSPAPER MAN'S MISTAKE. He Sent l ice President I!ol>art'» Card, to a Senator limteaU of lltu Own. A Baltimore newspaper man once came over to Washington to do some interviewing' of public men, says a Washington correspondent of the Philadelphia North American. It was when (iarret A. Hobart was vice presi dent, and he called upon that distin guished Xew Jerseyan first. Then, with fear and trembling, he went to the residence of a senator who was noted for frigidity toward representa tives of the press. He sent tip his card and expected to be sent a curt refusal to be seen. What was his astonish ment when the lackey came down stairs, bowed profoundly and said that, Senator So-and-So would be down in just a minute, and would he be so pood as to make himself at home meanwhile. In less than that time the statesman came d-own the staircase at a pace that made the reporter fear for the safety of his limbs. "Ah! Mr. Ilobart, delighted to see you," he said, as he entered, with his hand outstretched, and before his eyes had become accustomed to the dark ened parlor. Then, of a sudden, he drew himself up stiffly, fumbled in his waistcoat, pulled out the card that had been sent to him, and demanded: "What do you mean by this imposi tion, sir?" Like lightning- it flashed on the newspaper man what had hap pened. lie had, while in the vice pres ident's room, inadvertently picked up one of Mr. Hobart's cards and had used it by mistake for one of his own. His apologies were ample, but the senator could not be indiuced to for give that thrilling dash down the slip pery staircase simply to accommodate a mere scribbler. Silk Cultnpp n Homo Indnittry. A writer in the Philadelphia Times says that silk culture is not, and never has been, an exceedingly remunerative business, but it adds vast wealth to the nations engaged in it for the simple reason that it can be pursued by the humblest and poorest, requiring only a small outlay. The raising of a few pounds of cocoons every year does not materially interfere with the house hold and other duties that now engage the time of the farm girls, and it is by each household raising a few pounds of cocoon that silk culture must be carried on in this country, as it al ways has been in other countries. In France cocoons are regularly pro duced by more than 150,000 families. A liitd Mushol. One Yarmouth mussel of deteriorat ed character contained no fewer than 3,000,000 of harmful bacteria, while the water in the shell was eertitied to contain 803,:>00 bacteria of the colon bacilli type, tke forerunner of typhoid.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers