611$ gamily eirth.
OATOHING THE SUNBEAM-
Tired of playing, tired of toy,
Little Johnnie, our two-year boy,
With his bright blue eyes and golden hair
Sat on the floor by his mother's chair.
'Twas just as the day was beginning to die;
And the sun, ere descending the western sky,
Threw a parting glance through the:open door,
In a golden beard uPcin the Boor.
Quickly he seized his little white hat;
And scrambling away as fast as a cat,
He held it firmly upon the floor,
So that the beam should &&ipe no More:
Clapping his hands with joyous glee,
White his, laugh rippled out so merrilyi-
He looked With heiunirig fine into-raine,
Saying, "Auntie, l ha vceought the thine r
JESSIE AND HER KITTEN.
"You're a silly girl, Jessie, to choose a
present. for your kitten, insteas of
. one for
Son eelf, " said Ned ' Travis, as; he
,and' his
sister stood together on porch of the old
farm-house in which they lived. "If it was,my
birthday nosy,
.I'd make abetter choico","
" I'd rather had a collar for pussy's
neck," said Jessie, "she is so white, and
keeps herself so clean. I think she de-.
serves one—if you don't Mind getting it?'
"Mind; not a bit! I said I would get any
thing you wanted, if it didn't cost too much,
and 801 will."
•
" Be sure it's 'red," were Jessie's parting
words,'as I. he came out into the farrn,yard
to see her brother set off.
"I'll not forget," answered Ned, "but I
mast not keep father waiting; see, the wag
on is on ever so far: Vake up your kitten,
Jessie„or. if big Carlo comes this way he'll
snap herap and swallow her at a mouthful;"
and with a merry laugh at Jessie's horrified
look, Ned ran after the wagon Which his
father was
,driving to the.neighboring.mar
ket-t0wn...`,1 :
Jessie stood and watched her brother out
of, sight., Than she remembered a hedgerow
where blackberries were plentiful, and as she
had a holiday to-day, she thought she could
not do- better than go and see if she could
find some ripe ones.
" If you can bring me home enough," said
her mother, as she gave her a little basket,
"I will make you and Ned a pie of them
for your supper; but you're not going to
take- the kitten with you surely ?",
"It's my birthday you know, Mother, so I
want her to enjoy it too.; and she's..isuch
darling!" added Jessie, giving the favorite a
squeeze that nearly took away its breath.
"As you please, then, only don't go too
far; and don't overtire yourself;" and with
a promise to remember her mother's wishes,
Jessie set out for her ramble in the fields:
Mrs. Travis gazed after the little figure
till it was out of sight, and. then. returned
with an anxious look on her face to
her-work in the dairy. It was but - a year
sihce two of her children had died, and since
the death of her sisters, Jessie had been so
grave andthoughtful, and so fragile in health,
that Mrs. Travis feared to lose her too.
The kitten was a new treasure, and the
many smiles its possession haebroaght to
Jessie's face gave joy to the hearts of her
parents and brother, who were thankful to
hear her cheerful, laugh and light step more
like what they had been a year ago.
Jessie soon came to the blackberry hedge,
and having nearly filled her basket and eaten
as many as she cared for, she sat down in
the shade to rest. The day was sultry, and
as Jessie was not strong, no wonder that
she soon fell asleep. By-and-bye she woke
up suddenly; some one was pulling the
basket from beneath her hand. Opening
her eyes, she saW. rein Speneer, a lad three
or four yearti older than herself; of whom
she was greatly afraid. She jumped up,
holding her. basket tight, while. pussy spring
ing,off her lap, retreated under the hedge.
" - A fine lot of berries you've.picked, said:
'?
Tom, trying .to take the liasket; "I, was
- wanting something Co eat—l'd no breakfast,
so I mean to have them; you* can pick
more.'? • .
"So can you, Tom," cried. Jessie, "and
you shan't -have these—they're far Ned's
supper."
Then ' ensued a struggle, in - which the
basket was broken and the blackberries
crushed upon the ground. Meanwhile pus
sy's mewing ttirned Jessie's thoughts from
the basket and fruit.
" Oh, my kitten-where is she-?"
But Tom caught sight of her first, and
thrusting his arm into the hedge regardless
of the fresh rents which his ragged sleeire
received, he pulled her out by the tail, and
held her aloft in triumph.
"Now I'll serve you out for this, see if I
don't Miss. I'll pitch her into the pond
down yonder, and if she can't swim she'll
beArowned, that's all."
" You shan't do it ! you shan't—give me
my kitten, you wicked boy.:" cried Jessie,,
clinging to him, but Tom= hurled her from.
him with such force that she fell to the
ground. He waited a moment, expecting
her to cry, or.attempt to rise, bat when he
saw that she did not move he became
alarmed. Presently he went to , her snit
tried to lift her up, letting the kitten free;
beat the sight of her white face,aud SQMO
drops of blood upon her forehead, he put her
down again. Had he killed her? What
should he do ? Some laborers were coming
up the field; one of - them he thought was
Samuel Dawley who often worked at Mr.
Travis's farm. Without waiting another
minute he made his way througbhe hedge,
and ran across the fields.
The men soon case to where Jessie was
lying; they lifted her up, and, while one
carried her and the kitten home, another
pursued Tom, whom he guessed to have
been the cause of the accident. Jessie was
not badly hurt; she had been stunned for
the moment,, and a slight cut on one side of"
her head seemed all that was really the mat
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1867.
ter. By the ti me she reached the farm she was
much better, and soon, lying on her mother's
bed, with pussy comfortably curled up be
side her, she fell fi)to a sound sleep, from
which she woke much refreshed.
"Will father and Ned soon be home?"
she asked, as her mother came in to see how
she was. "I hope they will sopn be here."
" There's some one else don't hope it, I
reckon," observed Hrs. Travis; 4-
"Who, mother ? "
"Tom Spenoer, to be sure. Samuel Daw
ley caught him, and his aunt says she hopes
your father will flog him soundly, so he's
locked:up ill tha,barn till they come . in from
market."
"How. did Samuel know he hurt me?"
asked J'esgte:
"He frightened - him into confessing, I be
lieve; and' I. hope, your father will punish
him-well. Since his- mother'•ran away and
left him, he has been thopest of the place."
"Poor Tom 1"-said-JeSsie softly, and then
she was very quiet for some time.
By-and-bye her 'father and brother came
in. Jessie was dowp stairs, and except for
a bandage on her head, and a much paler
face than usual, she looked the worse
for her adv en ture, which Travis, quitk
ly related.
"I'll give him a lesson I" said the farmer,
going to the door.
- father, pl.eas, 0)311'; exclaimed Jes
sie, «I knoWyou will hurt him badly.
".I,think sohe d'estzu.vesi.t."
"But please don't—it's my birthday, you
know, and I. couldn't bear any cope ,:to be
hurt to-day—dnn't go - to him till - after tea,
please.
"Yon,thinlF,may be,italenme less hard
on hint - When - I've'gbt - over'it; a little
one?" said the farmer, fondly stroking his
daughter's hair, S"and Ilaney yqu're about
right—so, as it's `your biithday, we'll have
tea first and settle with Tom afterwards."
Meanwhile Ned produced the red collar,
which. fitted ,pussy and'.exceedingly
delighted its young mistress,-who could do
little else than admire it all tea time.
•
Torn was crouching in a corner of the
barn. The day had seemed very long to
him—he was faint with hunger, and would
have slept, but every footstep - in the yard,
every voice near made him fancy the farm
er had returned, and that thought kept him
awake. As the hours passed, he began to
wish Mr. Travis would, come, then it would
soon be over, and he could creep to his aunt's
cottage,, and perhaps get a crust to eat be
fore he went to bed. And yet when the key
turned in the lock and the door was opened,
his heart sank within him, for he knew that
the farmer's arm was a heavy one. But it
was a very light step that came towards
him, and, looking up, he saw it was Jessie,
"I've brought you something to ea,t," Said
she, softly; " arn't you very hungry ?" .
"Yes, very."
"It's part of our blackberw-pie,:andit's
very nice. Some one brought mother some
berries, so it didn't matter our spoiling
these."
The contents of the plate didtid'eett~ look
nice to hungry Tom, and he stretched out
his hand eagerly to take it, then some other
feeling came, and he turned away.
"I don't want your pie !"
" Oh, I'm so sorry; ' and the tone was so
sincere that Tom looked up surprised.
" Why did you bring it ?"
"Because I felt so sorry for you."
"I've been thrashed before," answered
Torn, bitterly, "my skin ought to be tough
by now.". ,
"It'snot that sorry, for," said Jessie
sadly.
" What then?"
" Because you're such a bad boy."
And Jessie hesitated between her wish to
speak the truth and a desire not to seem un
kind.
"And I'm sure you must be miserable—
allwieked people are'
"I'm used to it," said Tom, trying hard
to speak, as if he didn't care, "and floggings
won't make me - any better."
"But you are not going to be flogged,
father's promised me; and Jesus - Christ can
make you better, and , I _think He will, for I.
asked Him this afternoon. It would please
Him so if you'd only try tote good."
"He wouldn't care," and Tom turned
away.
" But He would—He would., Shouldn't I
be glad, and father
_and mother, and your
aunt ? and Christ is better than the very
best of us—ever so far better, teacher says.
He really cares whether we love Him or not,
and He does love us so much.., Won't think
ing that 'make you - want to be good ? " and
in her .eagerness Jessie knelt down by his
aide' and peered anxiously into this face.- -
Tom kept it turned away as much as lie
could, and tried hard not‘to show what he
felt, but when she laid her little hand on
hiS,_ and tearfully asked, " Oh, Tom, won't
you try to please the Saviour?"
He could hold out no longex'.
" I'm sorry I hurkyou—but I, didn't real
ly mean to drown your•kitten, and I'll nev
er tease you again," said he.
"And you'll come to Sunday-school and
hear our teacher, will you?"
" I'll come once, anyway, to please you."
"And now eat your supper and go home
—good-night, Tom," and she ran away into
the _house.
. Tom, kept his, word - and came to the. Sun
day-school, and -Farmer Travis, and his
daughter's persuasions, found odd bits of
work for to do.. have not time to tell
you how he improved step by step, and
learnt to believe that the Sayiour loved and
died for him, and strove in his daily life arid
work to please One who' had done so mach
for him.
In a few years he had gained quite„ a good
character, and Farmer Travis always spoke
of him as one of the best laborers he-had
upon the farrn.--Juvenile Missionary Herald.
A . heart loosed from the world is: a foot
out of the snare.
"SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD."
Here comes Whitefield, the man who
stood before twenty thousand at a time, to
preach the gospel; who, in England, Scot
land, Ireland, and America, has testified the
truth of God, and who could count his con
verts by thousands. Here he conies, the
man that endured persecution and scorn,
and yet who Was . not moved; the man of
whom the world was not worthy; who
lived for his fellow-men, and died at last for
their cause. Stand by, angels, and admire
while the Master takes him by the hand
and 'says "Well • done, good and faithful
servant; enter thou into the joy of thy
Lord." See how free-grace honors the.man
whom it enabled to do valiantly.
Hark! Who is thisi. that comes there?
A poor, thin looking, creature,_ that on earth
was a . consumptive. There she lay three
long years upon het bed of sickness. Was
she a prince's daughter? For it seems Hea
ven. is making much stir -about her. NO ;-
she . Was'a• poor girl thatearned her living
by needle, and she 'worked herself to
death.; stitch, stitch, stitch,. from. morning
to night; ,and here she comes. She went
prematurely to her grave, but she is com
ing, like a shock of Corn ftilly`ripe, into'
heaven; and her lasters_api. ; "Well done,
good and faithful .:servant; 'thoU haat been
faithful in a few things, I will make thee
ruler over many. things; enter thou into the
joy of thy Lord." ..She takes her place by
the side of Whitefield.•
Ask What she ever did, and yen findpiitthat
she . used to live, down some dark alley in
London; and there used to be another poor
girl come to wor'. with her, and that poor
girl, when she came to workwith her, was
a . gay and volatile creature, and this Con
sumptive girl ..told' her about Christ;:and
they. used ; .'.-when she was well enough, to
creep . out of an evening to, go to chapel or
to church together. .It•was bard at first to
get the other one.:to.go, but. She used to
press her lovingly; and when the girl went
wild a little, she • never gave her up.. -She
used to say: " 0 Jane, I, wish you. loved the
Saviour;" and when Jane was not there she
uSed to pray for her, and when she Was
there she prayed ;with her; and now and:
then, when she was stitching away, read
a page oat of the Bible to her, for poor
Jane could not read; and with many tears
she tried to tell her about the Saviour who
loved her and gave himself for her.
At last, after many a day of hard persua
sion' and many an hour of sad disappoint
ment, and many a night of sleepless, tear
ful prayer, at last she lived to see the girl
profess .her love to- Christ; and the poor,
consumptive needle-woman. has had said
to her, "Well done"—and what more could
an' archangel have had said to him? "She
bath done"what she could."--Spurgeon's Ser
mon on the "Ten Talents."
NELLY'S PRAYER
Dear children, have yoa learned how gra
&oudly 4s 4 ua 'allover&
_the . prayer of even
the little imps? If hehas taught you tiffs
himself, there is no need that I should
give you proofs of it ; but some of our larger
children go , on and on, making endless mis-
takes, and suffering bitter losses, from not
having learned the easy remedy.
The other day, a Christiawmother, whose
heart rejoices at every sign that her flock of
little ones is led by the- Good Shepherd,
told me that one of her little girls had learn
ed a lesson in a prayer that she would ne
ver forget. She came in from school great
ly irritated, saying that she never wanted
teachers to disappoint and tease her. After
.her first excited feeling had spent itself, her
father said to her quietly, " Nelly did you
ever7try praying for your teacher, to see if
God would,not make her more gentle ?"
" Why, no, father," said the little girl.
" Well," Said he, " try that, and see how
things get on to-morrow."
He said no more, but watched the end ;
and the next day Nelly came bounding into
the houde, as she had not done for many a
day, saying, " Oh father, you were right;
you don't know how good Miss K— was
to me to day ! 1 have had such a happy
day !"
`f Well,: my 14tle girl," said the father,
"God has many ways of answering our
prayers; and I suspect that one way he took
to answer you, was to make you more obe
dient and studious."
She had not thought of this before; but
now began looking back over the day, and
then, in sweet simplicity, said, f Yes, father,
I think that was so. I loved to study, to
day, my heart was, so happy."
Many days after, she said to him, as he
camein at nightfall, " Dear father, I never
shall forget again to ask God for everything
I want; for . since , that day pay teacher has
been 1210 chinged
" Yes," said the glad father,'" and my lit
tlegirl is changed _too."
Christ knew, when he was teaching that
lesson,. that it would bear its fruits; that
every day some want would come up that
he could satisfy , ; and in his generous
love, he longed to have that young heart
come to him and be comforted.—The Wit
ness.
TM-SUNDAY STONE
In one of our English coal mines there is
a constant formation of limestone, caused
by the trickling of water through the rocks.
This water contains a great many,particles
of lime, which are deposited in the - mine,
add, as the water passes off, these become
hard, and form limestone. This stone would
always be white, like marble, were it not
that men are working in the mine, and as
the black dust rises from the coal, it mixes
with; the soft lime, and in that way a black
stone is formed.
Now, in the night, when there is no coal
dast rising, the stone is white; then again,
the next day, when the miners are at work,"
another black layer is formed, and so on al
ternately, black and white, through the
week, until Sunday comes. Then, if the
miners keep holy the Sabbath, a much lar
ger layer of white stone will be formed than
before. There will be the white stone of
Saturday night, and the whole of Sunday,
so that every seventh day the white layer
will be about three times as thick as any of
the others. Rut if they work on the Sab
bath, they see it marked against them in the
stone. Renee the miners call it "The Sun
day Stone."
Perhaps, many who now break the Sab
bath, would try to spend it better if there
were a " Sunday Stone" where .they could
see their unkept Sabbaths with their black
marks.
But God needs no such record on earth to
know how all our Sabbaths are spent. His
record is kept above. All our Sabbath deeds
are written there, and we shall see them at
the last.
Be very careful to keep your Sabbath
pure and white, < and not allow the dust of
worldliness and= sin' to tarnish the - purity of
the blessed day. -
" .parnember the Sabbath day to
,keep it
holy."—Christian treasury. •
A REMARKABLE WELSH PATRIABOK.
The Edinburg - Daily Review has an inter
esting notice of a Welsh Independent Minis
ter, the . 10y„.. David-Williams, Of the county
of Brecon. "He had been, come next sum
mer, 64: years minister of the same congre
gation. His predecessor was their pastor
for 50 iyea,rs, and hia•predeeessor was.their
minister for 60 years, so that the churches
still under hiS' care have had Only three
ministers during the- long space of 174 years;
and what is still as remarkable, the peace of
these congregations has nevei been ,once
disturbed by a single jar or discord during
all these long years !. - Peace has always
prevailed among, its various members. It
was only r nt the beginning of last January
(1867) that -he lost his wife, after -a happy
union of 51 years, and that was the first
thiit a cotriii'crossed,his - ibresbold du
ring his unusually long married life, all his
children, seven in number, being still alive.
He preaches now generally three times eve
ry Sabbath, and several times, during the
week, •and although in his 89th year, he is
up early on Monday morning, and does not
know,except by report, what some parsons
mean by the Word Mondayish' For up
wards of 55 years he has been one of the
most popular preachers in Wales, and the
great' - attraction on 'field days,' in North
and. South Wales, when many thousands are
present to attend open-air services; and so
great a traveller has be been on,horseback,
that he must at least have spent - ten years
of his life in the saddle. Talk of the youth
ful buoyancy of the late Lord Palmerston I
why our patriarch parson of eighty-eight
would have walked and run him off his legs;
and wearied him or any other rider. He is
completely weather-proof. Rain, snow
tempest, and storm he makes no account of,
and even now he would think nothing of
riding forty miles over a rough country and
- eon - duet - CR pant Service; 4rt - the - evening:-
He has been for many years a staunch tee
totaler. He has an iron constitution. He
is a perfect specimen of the Welsh build—
short legs, broad shoulders, and a deep chest.
He has enjoyed extraordinary good health,
for during the lengthened period of his min
istry he has never once been disabled from
preaching on a Sabbath. Nature has en
dowed him with all the natural elements of
an orator. His temperament is highly mer
curial, and his affections intensely ardent.
He speaks even now with unfaltering fluen
cy and remarkable force. He is distinguish
ed for his catholicity of spirit, and is equal
ly beloved by good men of every religions
persuasion. His character is spotless, his
theology orthodox, and his preaching high
ly evangelical."
THE ARCTIC NIGHT,
But if the Arctic night can be endured
with little strain upon the physical, it is ne
vertheless, a severe trial both to the moral
and the intellectual faculties. The darkness
which so long clothes nature unfolds to the
senses a new world and the senses accommo
date themselves to that world but poorly.
The cheering influences of the rising sun
which invite to labor; the soothing influen
ces of the evening twilight which invite to
repose; the change from day to night, and
from night to day,which lightens the burden
of the;weary mind and aching body, strength
ening the hope and sustaining the courage
in the great life-battle - of the dear home-land
are withdrawn, and in the constant longing
for light, the mind and body weary with the
changeless progress• of time, fail to find re
/pose where all is rest. The grandeur of na
ture ceases to give delight to the dull sympa
thies. The heart longs continually for new
associations, new objects, and new compan
ionships. The dark and drear solitude op
presses the understanding, the desolation
which every where reigns haunts the imagi
nation; the silence, dark, and drear and
profound, becomes a terror.
And yet there is in the Arctic night much
that is attractive to toe lover of nature.—
!There is in the flashing Aurora, in the play
of , the moonlight upon the hills and icebergs,
in the wonderful clearness of the starlight,
in the broad expanse of the ice -fields, in the
lofty grandeur of the mountains and glaciers
in the naked fierceness of the storms, much
that is both sublime and beautiful. But they
speak a language of their own—a language,
rough, rugged and severe.
Nature is here exposed on a gigantic scale.
Out of the glassy sea the cliffs rear their dark
fronts and frown grimly over the desolate
waste of ice-clad waters. The mountain
peaks glittering in the clear cold atmosphere
pierce the very heavens, their ,heads hoary
with unnumbered ages. The •glaeiem . pour
their orvataltarronta into the sea in floods of
immeasurable magnitude. The very air,
disdaining the gentle softness of other climes,
bodies forth a loftier majesty, and seems t o
fill the universe with a boundless transparen
cy; and the stars pierce it sharply. And the
moon fills it with a cold refulgence. There
isneither warmth nor coloring underneath this
ethereal robe of night. No broad windows
open in the east; no gold and crimson cur
tains fall 'n the west, upon a world clothed
in blue and green and purple, melting into
one harmonious whole, a tinted cloak of
graceful loveliness. Under the shadow of
the eternal night, nature needs no drapery,
and requ!res no adornment. The glassy sea,
the tall cliff, the lofty mountain, the majestic
glacier, do not blend one with the other._
Each stands forth alone, clothed only with
Solitude. Sable priestess of the arctic win
ter, Ole has wrapped the world in a winding
sheet, and thrown her web and woof over the
very. face of nature.
I have wandered away to some distant val
ley where all sounds were hushed and the
very air was still and solemn as the tomb.
And it is here that the Arctic night is most
impressiVe, where its true spirit is revealed,
where its wonders are unloosed to sport and
play witlethe mind's vague imaginings. The
heavens above and the earth beneath reveal
only an endless fathomless quiet. There is
nowhere.around,me eiidenee of life or mo
tion. I stand alone in the midst .of mighty
hills. Their tall. crests -climb upward, and
are lost in the gray vault of the skies. The
dark cliffs standing against their slopes of
white are steps of a vast amphitheatre. The
mind finding no rest on their bold summits,
wanders into space. The moon, weary with
her long vigil sinks to her repose. The
Pleiades no longer breathe their sweet influ
ences. CassioPea and. Andromeda and Orion,
and all the infinite host of unnumbered con
stellations, fail to infuse one spark of joy in
to this dead atmosphere. They have lost all
their tenderness, and „are cold and pulseless.
The eye leaves them and returns to earth,
and the trembling ear awaits something that
will break the oppressive stillness. But no
foot-fall of living thing reaches it ; there is
no cry oebirO, no tree among whose branches
the wind can sigh and moan. The pulsa
tions of my own heart are alone heard in the
great void ; and as the blood courses through
the sensitive , organization of the ear, I sin
oppressed, as with discordant sounds. Si
lence has ceased to be' a negative. It has be
come endowed with positive attributes. I
seem to hear and see and feel it. It stands
forth as a frightful spectre, filling the mind
with the overpowering consciousness of uni
versal death proclaiming the end of all things,
and heralding the everlaiting future. Its
presence is unendurable. I spring from the
rock on which .I have been seated, I plant
my feet heavily in the snow to banish itsaw
ful presence, and sound rolls through the
night and drives away the Phairldm. I have
seen no expression on the face of Nature so
filled with terror as THE SILENCE OF THE
ARCTIC NIGHT.-1h . .. Haye's "Open Polar
Sea."
PRAYING AND DOING.
"Bless the poor little children who haven't
any beds to-night," prayed a little boy, just
before he lay down in his nice warm cot,on a
cord windy night.
As he rose from his knees, his mother said
to him--
" You have just asked God to bless the
poor children: what will you do to bless
them ? "
The boy thought a moment.
" Why if I had a hundred cakes, enough
for ourselves, I'd give them some."
" But you have no cakes."
" Well, when I get money enough to buy
all the things that I want, and have some
over, I'll give them some."
" But you haven't half enough money to
buy all you want, and perhaps never will
have. I want to know what you will do to
to bleas the poor now ? ''
"I'll give them some bread."
- "You have no bread; the bread is mine."
Then I could earn money, and buy a
loaf myself."
" Take things as they now are. You
know what you have that is your own. What
are, you willing to give to help the poor ?"
"I'll give them half my money. I have
eight cents, and I'll give them four—would
not that be right ?"
" Four cents would not go very far in ma
king a child so poor that it had no bed, as
comfortable and well provided for as you are.
Four cents toward food and clothes, and
books and a bed, for such a one, and four
cents just for pencils or candy for yourself,
don't seem - fair."
Then mother, I'll give all my money;
and I wish I had more to give," said the
little fellow, as he took his good night kiss.
Now don't you think his bed was made
softer that night by his pity for the poor
and shelterless ? Don't you think he slept
the more sweetly, and that ministering spr
its watched his couch more lovingly because
he was growing to be somewhat like his Sa
viour, who "spared not himself; but freely
gave himself up for us all."
A great many children. pity the poor a
little, and wish God would be kind to then'
and take care of them. Perhaps they even
pray to him to do it, like the little boy in
my story. But lam afraid that too ma*"
of them would have God do all the work.
They don't want to help much; they don't
want to give away much that is their own;
they don't want to trouble themselves much
aboot it-. They do not really love their
poor neighbors as . they do themselves.