family ®iwli.
INTER STELLAS.
The bells of heavenly harmonies
Bing ever in the self-same keys;
Bat we, confused by care and fret,
Have heard no strains of greeting yet.
The angels^sjbg, as when of old
That story of good will was told ;
But .pierce the boundless blue,
For us vrhosesoags are faint and fejv.
The starry eyes of spheres sublime
Peer through the distances of time;
But unto us, so weak of sight.
They glitter in an unknown night.
We only know and only feel
The sympathies our souls reveal;
But angels sing within us, when
We bear good will and peace to men.
And days shall come, not distant long,
When sighing shall he changed to song,
When the great heaven our rest shall be,
And sight shall conquer mystery.
. '■ Samoul W. DuVfimd.
TRUTH THE BRIGHTEST GEM.
The clock struck five, the joyful hour for
sister Emma’s return from school.
“There she is,” cried little George, who
was weary with long watching at the win
dow. “Do let me run to the brook, dear
mother, and meet her.”
The permission was given, and away he
ran to throw his arms around his kind sister
Emma. ■■ in :;;. ;•
“ But what is the matter, sister ?” inquired
the little boy, as he held up his lips for the
kiss.
“ Oh,*not much,” was the answer—for
just then Emma’s heart was too full to per
mit her to say “ much.” They soon reached
the parlor, hut Emma’s sorrowful loots did
not escape her mother’s notice* She did
not, however, ask any (questions, for Emma
always felt that her mother was, the best
friend in the world, and was accustomed to
go to her with all her perplexities.
At tea, Emma was silent, and little Georgci
was much puzzled to find his sister so indif
ferent to his stories about his kitten, ar>d
Eosa, the little dog; nor did she smile ai
usual, when she heard that he had been “ an
industrious boy at his lessons.” No, Emm*
could not smile : her heart was heavy; and
yet, perhaps, some of my readers will won
der, at it when they hear how very small a
thing could so much disturb the happy girL
Emma had that day sinned against hercon
science. She was usually in the habit o.
listening, to , the amice of this friend in her
bosom, and obeying it,’and so her days pas
sed happily. There was in her face the
sunshine of the soul, so that one felt happy
in looking af her. The time appeared very
long before went to l>ed; at last all
was still, and Emma found her mother 1 alone
in the parlor, ready, as she always, was, to
hear her troubles, and pour into her spirit
the balm of consolation.
“ Dear mother, I have sinned against my
conseience to-day, and I have been so mise
rable.” Poor Emma, could say no more.
“Tell me Emma,” said her mother calmly,
“ what has been the difficulty.”
“ Why, mother, it was only a sum I had
to do in division. , When «I was .trying to
prove it, I could not possibly make it com
pare with the answer, and so I put down the
right figures, and carried them to mv teacher.
She looked at it a moment, and then said,
‘ Emma, did you add up this sum ?’ ‘Yes,’
I replied], “How then does it appear that
every figure is wrong?’ I told her'the
trqth then, but she looked at me with a good
deal of compassion, and told me she ‘ had
supposed I was a girl of integrity,' but I
had now tried to deceive her, and had dis
pleased God!’. Oh, mother, I was never so
unhappy in ; my life; what shall Ido ? Ido
not know how I could do such a thing ; I
have grieved the Sayiour, and Miss Carlton
thinks I am a doceitful girl.”
“I am grieved for you, my child; for* in
this instance you have stepped from God’s
path of truth—that pleasant path, which
had, to you, Emma, been a path of peace.
But Ido not think you a deceitful girl. A
( shddenand ; pqs®ful presented,
‘ and in a moment, you sweryed into the dark
andforbid<j^n^y f whose,
brier! hhte i ‘ amhaay 'wounded
you.”
*■ Oh, mother-,*how 1 true it sis, that the way
of transgressors is hard! I have been unable
to study or play, or do anything but think
of my wicked heart.”
“Emma, there is a balm for your wounded
spirit. If you feel that you have sinned
against God, and arereally penitent—which
always implies a W as
sistance, to do so no more, to be a child of
truth, to delight in it just as he does—then
he atfd Jqye yM Ss ou
know the way to the Saviour, Emma.”
Such bitterness of soul Emma never ex-
perienced again. She was forgiven by her
Saviour, by her teacher, and her affectionate
mother. Truth had long sparkled like a
beajilafulidiamond on her fair brow; and al
though its lustre was obscure for a moment,
•
shield and breastplate by which she was en
abled to vrSrddff'the attack’s of temptation.
The sorrowful day was, never forgotten.
The way of sin waB so dark and fearful,
leading down to the chambers of death,
that Emma Messed ,God h ( er ,b|ick
. so quickly "into the sweet truth.—
Mother's Magazine.
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, MAY 21, 1868.
WHY CHRIST CAME AS A BABE.
“There is one thing,” said Wynnie, after
a pause, “that I have often thought about
—why it was necessary for Jesus to come
as a babe; be could not do anything for so
long.”
“ First, I would answer, Wynnie, that if
you would tell me why it is necessary for
all of us to come as babes, it would be less
necessary for me to tell yon why he came
so ; whatever was human must be his. But
I must say next, Are you sure that he could
not do anything for so long ? Does a baby
do nothing? Ask mamma there. Is it for
nothing that the mother lifts up such heart
fuls of thanks to God for the baby tin her
knee ?. Is it nothing that the baby opens
such fountains of love in almost all the
hearts around it ? Ah 1 yon do not think
how much every baby has to do with the
saving of the world—the saving of it from
selfishness, and folly and greed.
“And for Jesus,,was he not going ,to es
tablish the reign of lovti in the earth ? How
could he do better than begin from baby
hood ? He had to lay hold of the heart of
the world. How could he do better than
begin with his mother’s —the best one in
it ?' Through his mother’s love first, he grew
into the world. It was first by the door of
all holy relations of the family that he en
tered the human world, laying hold of
mother, fatfigr, all his
friends: by the door for he
took of his father's ; then,
wheAJbo was thirty years of agfe/ by the
door qF teaching; by kind deeds,wand snf
ferirfgs, and through all bvobedienceuntothe
death. i^Rmmusiifo&hliikftitlfe’bf
thirty years wherein he got ready for the
chief work to folio W.Tou must not thin'kthat
while he was thus preparing for his public
ministrations, -he-was not,all the time saving
the world even by that which he was in the
midst of it,, ever laying hold of it more
and more. These were things not so easy
to tell. And you must'remember that our
records are .very scanty. It is a small bio
graphy we have of a man who became—to
say Manofithe world—
the Son of Man. No doubt it Is enough, or
God would' have told us more j but surely
we are hot to suppose that there was noth
ing significant, nothing of'saving power in
that which we are hot told. Charlie,
wouldn’t you haye liked to see the little
baby Jesus ?”
“ Tea, that I would. I would have given
him, my white rabbit with pink eyeh.”'
“That is what the great painter Titian
must have thought Charlie; for he has
painted Him playing with such
a pretty one as yours,”
I would have carried him about all day,”
said Dora, “ As little Henry Parsons does
his baby brother.”
“Hid he have any brother or sister to
caffy Turn About, papa ?” asked Harry. i
“Noj my boy 7 *»r he was the . eldest;
But,'yon may be, pretty sure he carried
about his brothers .and sisters that came
after him.”
“ Wouldn’t he take 'care of, them just!”
said Charlie. .
“ I wish I had been one of them,” said
Constance.
“ You are one of them, my Connie. Now
he is so great and so strong that he can carry
father and'-'mother and a JI of us in his
bosbm.” '' ■
Then we sung a child’s hymn in praise of
the God of little children, and then the lit*
tie ones’went fo. bed. —The Seaboard Parish
in Die SvfflLaij'Mdgazine.
[Theidea here presented by Mr.'Macdonald
•is tfotas new as it is true. • Irenaeus—who
studied ;Jat tho feet of Polycarp, the pupil
of the,,Apostle Christ: “He
came to redeem all by Himself; all who
through. Him are regenerated unto God;
infants,'llttlC children, boys, young men and
old/ Hence fid 5 passed' through every age*
and to the infants,, he became an infapt,
sanctifying therinfants; among the litMe
children, ho became a little child sanctify
ing those who belong to this ago, and at
the same time becoming an example of
filial goodness and obedience to them':
among, wmJie became,a,youth,
being *- mu de* anexample 't o yotffti, and sane
tifying- themiintb the Lord.”] 5 '
KEY. ALBERT BARITES'.
[The meagre reports of public rumor, so unsatisfy
ing to those deeply interested in this great and ..good
man, have elicted the following facts from his own
pen. y-Trwrr « !-• r. B. H.]
aid of a machine,—the same which Mr.
Prescott used, in writing his histories. . , .*
Even this I do- at some peril of 'blindness!
My general health is perfect, dsperfeet as
it could be, at my tithe of life—now in my
seventieth year, v I* am able to do as much
work as ever, without fatigue. My only
difficulty is with my eyes, and there the
difficulty iB a serious and alarming one.
I am threatened with blindness, and am
commanded net’ td’rehdf or r %rite, or preach,
or think'.
I was very w.011,a1l last r wjntor, did all my
ordinary w.orkj and work of my
Lectures [Evidences of Christianity) and
was using my eyes very moderately and
quite comfortably, until August, when sud
denly and unexpectedly, alarming symp
toms, consisting qf flashes of light appeared;
and I thoughtfit necessary, to consult my
physicians. I did so, and was commanded
to stop at once, on penalty of total blind
ness. ' I therefore 'resigned my pastoral
office.
[Then follow facta of which-the public are already
informed. At a much later date, April 21, 1868, he
again writes:]
pj‘fl a,m nqt, asiypfo qfflicted pwi|h gtotal
blindness, ana.it qfili hOpeji|bji|
saved from that calamity,,though there are
alarming indications, increasing rather than
diminishing, that if I live much longer, I
shall be; and that I may end my course, as
not a few do —as a blind old man. Perhaps
it will make the exceeding splendor of
heaven, if I am permitted to behold it, more
glorious to my view.
My son, a* I told you, reads to me, but
that leaves many hours heavy and unoccu
pied. I have, however, much to interest
me in my garden, (Eden’s Bank—his sum
mer home.) How that I have not anything
to employ myself about, I am endeavoring
to put my grounds in a better and more
tasteful order than they have been hereto
fore. At least a very innocent employment
and a means of grace. Why not ? A man
ought to be the, better for seeing the works
of God all abound him, and by seeing those
works developed under the operation of his
own hands.
Those who have seen ‘Eden’s Bank ’ can
Scarcely conceive it possible. No man can
make a flower bloom,,but one may be an
instrument of causing one to bloom, where
otherwise there would be .none, and thus
bring out, so to speak, a new manifestation
of the-power, the skill and the goodness of
God. j 4 , , '
Wnen I received youiv letter I had just
returned from a * residence’ in the Domin
ion of Canada, where I had gone to secure
a copyright of my Notes on,the Psalms, in
England. I had ample opportunity to un
in
regard to temperature, for they all said, that
this haa been the coldest winter that had
ever been known in Canada.
The first volume of this work has been
published •in London, and will bo '.issued
with all convenient despatch in this country.
This tiorffpletes jny wprk xm tjie bible, —a
work which has tie’eupred ‘my leisure hours
for forty years—which has been to me, an
: unfailing source of. eqjoyinent, .and which
hasmet with a dOgrCe ; of success' wEichi
nejrerj9xpec.t,e,d l or hoped, for, „ f The. merare
sul%KsiaveEe%h%ooaifesß.tod
gregationalist and Recorder.
SATURDAY EVENING.
Havqyou ever noticed the bußtle that
usually., prevails on Saturday evening?
There are clean clothes to be looked out,
and aired garments to be mended, others to
be put away, and the house must be cleaned
and putin order. Calling af a persons house
on Saturday afternoon - she said, “Ah ma’am,
you see I am busy, cleaning to-day, so as to
have all tidy for Sunday.” “ Yes,”l replied,
“ if all took the same pains to examine their
hearts as they do to clean their houses, how
much more would they be. fitted to enjoy
the coming rest.” To this she assented
with a right, ma’am,” Now I
wonder, dear, children, if when you put
your playthin'gs all away, you try to put
evil thoughts away also ? I do not mean
to say that, you may indulge: in. Binful
thoughts all the week, and then put them
away on. Saturday night as you do your
toys, intending to bring them forth on Mon
day morningagain—no, no! I want yon to
examine your, hearts, and,, if there are .evil
or sinful thoughts in them, then pray God
to reiriove them; arid prepare yoirto receive
SabbatL instructions. A- 8 the house is care
fully swept that if may bo clean for Sunday,
so ao you try, with God’s help, to sweep
away |very unkind or ill feeling from ytiur
hearts. If you, have quarrelled with any
of your young companions, ask them to
forgive you;’and pray for a blessing tin the
coming Sabbath. A little boy said to me
one,Sunday morning; “ I have a.fclean coat,
clean collar, all my things are clean.” I
then said, “ Have you a clean heart ?” at
which .question h t e ' jvas silpßt,;he'didi not
know what to answer. Now you cannot
give yourselves clean hearts, but you can
pray God to wash them ih the blood of Jesus,
then they’will' be’clean; Clean coats and
clean frocks look very well, but a clean
heart yon want more than any of-these.
Next Saturday evening, if you are' alive, do
not forget to Took at your heart, little boy
or girl who “may happen, to read this; and,
by constantly; doi,ng so with prayer,, you
will find it, will keep you from much sin,
besides helping you to enjoy and profit by
the Sabb'ath. . (
QUEER FISH.
The Tribune’s Alaska correspondent gives
an alccount of a fish that is put to queer
“I must, not, omit . ( the existence ancLpo
cuiiarities of another fish—one not men
tioned in"the' ‘ books’—-which is found in
groat numbers in the coast .'rivers, from the
Hass to. the Stickeen. It appears annually
about the first week in-May, and Mr. Ansley,
the pilot of the JohtfLl Stephens, says that
on sqtne days he has known it difficult to
row'«:|fcrtfc across ithe moiith of the Hass
Rivet pn account of the dense mass of .these
fish in the water.,,, Sometimes an; adverse
tide or heavy wind lodges tons qf them up
on the shore. ‘ The Indians' know of their
arrival by the flight of the birds northward.
They seldom continue ovpr fifteen d’ays, and
during this time tho native's from Fort
all the adjacent- regions haste
to ‘the feast of fat things.’ This fish is six
to eight inches; long,, in form resembles ,the
smelt, has a shining and almost
appearance, and of all the-finny tribes lathe
most fat: Its fat has'not the! oily/rancid
tastq of other fish, but has the sweet taste
of fresh lard: The Indians ' store great
quantities of it, and if well cared for it re
mains sweet for months. When they arc
dried, the Indians often turn to a novel and
practical account—burn them in the place
of candles. They, give a clear, brilliant
light,.and are nqt iiable to be blown out by
the wind Mr. Manson, the Superintendent
at Fort Simpson, says that the tail should
be lightad j-jpstqad- of the head-, and; that
last fiboutffifteen-minutes. In
a; dark night the inen who took.natives for
reckon a u}ijl§-qf
every five fish burned.” j
THE EIGHT WAY TO BEGIN.
A little girl once said, “Oh, mother, how
very hard it is to do right I I don’t believe
I shall ever be able.”
“Have you really tried, my dear?”
“Oh, yes; I try every day. When I
awake, before I get up, I say to myself, * I
will be good all the day; I will be gentle
and kind; I will obey my parents and teach
ers ; 1 will not quarrel; 1 will always tell
the truth.’ But theD, mother, I don't know
how it is, Ido so often forget. Then, when
evening comes, I have to say, ‘ There now 1
what is the use of trying ? I have been in a
passion; I have been disobedient;’ and once
or twice, mother, you know, I have said
what was not true." The dear child seemed
very much ashamed while saying this, so
her mother looked kindly at her, an,d only
said, “ My dear, I do not think you have be
gun right.” The little girl looked up won
deringly; and her parent went on—“ The
first thing is to have a new heart; and have
you asked for this?” “Ho, mother, lam
afraid not.” “ Then, my; child, do. so at
once. Good fruit you know, can only come
from a good tree. If your heart is wrong
your conduct will be wrong. You cannot
make it right yourself, with all your good
resolutions; but ask God, for Christ’s sake,
to help you. He will give you His Holy
Spirit, and you will not find it any longer
impossible to do right.” lam glad to say
that the child took her mother’s advice.
That very day 1 she asked God, earnestly, to
change her heart,< and help her to do right.
She frayed, she watched, she strove hard
against her sins, and? whs able,. by God’s
grace, to lead the life of a lovely.young
Christian, . •
HOW PAPER IB MADE IF ,CHINA.
Most of the paper used in China is made
from the bark of various trees arid plants,
arid from the bamboo. The manufacture of
bamboo paper is carried on extensively in
the southern part of the country. In se
lecting stock from the bamboo plantations
on the mountains, preference is given to the
stems which are about to put out branches
and leaves. Early in the month of June
the caries are' cut into pieces from five to
seven feet long, add "placed in a pit which
is supplied with water. After’ soaking for
several weeks* the canes are beaten with
mallets, in order to remove the thick barb
and green skin. The remaining filaments,
resembling a fine sort of hemp, are treated
with lime and water raised to a certain
temperature. /After remaining in this bath
for aboutra week; the filaments are removed,
gashed with cold water, passed through-a
ley made of wood ashes, and thep, .placed,in
a boiler. This process is repeated until the
material begins to grow putrid, when it is
transfetredtoamortar, apd pounded into
pujp by'meanl of Svatori-power; aiter which
the mass is treated to bleaching powder.
The pulp thus prepared is made by-hand
into sheets of various thicknesses by means
of, a silk tissue, within a light, frame, upon
which the workman places the .required
'quantify of pulp. When the Water has inn
off from the corners of tho frame, he turns
the sheetiover on to a,large table,! when it
is pressed. Etich sheet is afterward raised
and dried separately in a kiln made for that
purpose. '
Writing paper is made front the 1 finest
part of the bairiboo material. Another
kind is inade by mixing rice-straw with the
bamboo fiber. A very strong paper used
fbr window-blinds and other articles, which
in'this couritry are generally constructed of
woven substances, is made by , mixing 60
per cent, of the< bark obtained/fromia tree
Called tchou with 40. per,cent, of bamboo
material 1 . Another) variety of strong paper
is obtained -from the hark of itfae.mulberry
tree, and-is used in the'breeding and culture
of silkworms. The same--: material,' made
from thinner pulp, is employed in the manu
facture of umbrellas* fans, arid* firescreens.
Hark paper which is to be painted -is- first
passed through a solution of alum-water, to
'destroy the fine filaments which are com
monly found on the-upper side of the sheet
as it lies,in the silk tissue frame—the lower
side in; .contact with the tissue being much
more smooth. For"maDy uses,, when only
one color, is required, the 'material is added
to the pulp
A NOBLE DEED.
.The following incident was related to the
Coadjutor Bishop of Newfoundland, by one
of the survivors of the terrible storm on the
-Labrador in October last: '
’’ ’ “ A poor ]boy, whose name/no one knows,
but we may hope, that itis.in the Book of
Life, iound three' little children. who, like
himself, had been washed ashore from one
of the many wrecks, wandering along that
dreary coast in the driving sleet. They
were crying bitterly, having; been parted
from their parents, and not knowing whe
tner they were flrownea or saved. The poor
lad took thenf -tfl &t 6be|tered spd.t, plucked
moss for'-tLemyand madetbespi-a rude but
soft bed, and then taking off his own coat
to cover them, Bat by them alls the night
long, soothing their terror until they fell
asleep. In the morning, leaving them still
.sleeping, .‘hdlwpnt* in.sparclloff heparents,
‘and to ;Ms; ■mei-them 1 looking' for
’iKej? liad,giy|hrnp‘ffir
dead, fle direbted them where tofi’nd tbein,
and then went on himself to try. to find
some place of shelter and refreshment. But
when the parents were returning with their
recovered little ones, they found their brave
preserver lying quite dead upon the snow,
nob far from where they pßrtod'irdmPMm.
The long exposure in his exhausted state
was too much for his little strength, and
h aying saved his iS ,lijjtle ch tp-g§
to them, as they to him—-ke lay-downto
die." ' „:.; t
All the world has admired the offering
of Abraham; what may not come to pass
since God has offered His own Son ?— Luther.
It is a great mercy of God not to hear
men if they offer nnjust prayers.— Quesnel.
ftal fMttaratf.
DEIYING THE COW.
BT MARIAN" DOUGLAS.
The grass is green on Billy’s grave,
The snow is on my brow,
But I remember still the night
When we two d&ve the cow I
The buttercups and tangled weeds,
The goldfinch pecking thistle seeds,
The small, green snake amid the brake,
The white flowers on the bough,
And Billy, with his keen, gray eyes,—
I seem to see them now 1
O, Billy was my first of friends;
Pur hearts were warm and light;
The darkest of November rains
L Had,-shared With him, seemed bright;
And far too brief lor boyish play
Had the summer? s longest day.
But powerless fell dove’s magic spell,—
Its charm was lost that night;
It needed but one'word, and we
' Were Both in for a fight!
One word I ’twasßilly spoke that word;
But, sore at heart, I know ,
It was another hand than his
That dealt the earliest, blow.
He ; touched my forehead's longest curl,
And said, ‘‘ Ha ! John ! my jpretty girl ?”
A jest or not, my blood was hot,
My cheek was all aglow;
" Take that 1 Take that 1 Say, could a girl,
A girl, have struck you so ?”
But Billy was as stout as I;
, The. scar upon my brow -
The memory of his prowess keeps
Before me even now I
His furious blows fell thick and fast;'
But just as I had thought,’at last, ’
That yield I must, a skilful thrust
I gave, I know not how,
And, a triumphant conqueror,
I went on for my cow 1
We never were firm friends again.
Before the Spring-time air
Again the graveyard flowers made sweet,
Poor Billy rested there 1
And I since then have wandered wide,
And seen the world on every side,
By land and sea, and learned—ah mb!—
That warm, true hearts are rare;
And he who is best loved on earth
Has not one friend to spare 1
The grass is green on Billy's grave* .
My brow is white with snow;
I never can win back again
The love I üßed to know t
The past is past; but, though for me
Its joys are sweet in memory,
’Tis only pain to call again
.The feuds, of long ago,
And t worse to feel that in a fight
I’dealt the earliest blow!
OIJBE FOE THE CATTLE PLAGUE.
. Chloride of copper is no,w extensively used
in Germany against the cattle plague. The
practice is to dissolve 8 grammes
ize'd chloride of copper in 2 ( kilqgrammes of
aleohpl, ;and, with this solution tp -wet a pad
;of cotton, which is then laid, on a plate and
burned in the centre of a stable, the heads
of the animals being.turned toward the plate
so. as to, breathe the fumes. This operation
is performed- morning, and eveningone pad
is burned for every three head of cattle. The
■Solution is also administeredinternally, with
the addition,of 15 grammes of chloroform
for the, above named quantity! A teaspoon
ful of this liquid is mixed with each animal’s
drink three times a day.
HOW TO KEEP UP tOUK HAY OEOP.
A farmer who had , been in the habit of
selling his hay for many years in succes
sion, being asked* how he-kept up, his hay
crop without manuring or cultivating his
land, replied, “I never the after
swath to be cut,” If this, rule was gene
rally followed, there would be less said about
running out of grass fields, or short crops
of hay. Some farmers feed off every green
/thing, and compel their cattle to pull up and
gnaw off the roots of the grass. Cutting
rowen is certain deqth to hay crops. A
farmer hadbetter buy hay at forty dollars
per. ton than ruin his hay field by close
grazing. The general treatment of grass
land in this respect is wrong and. expensive,
and should be abandoned as a matter of
profit and economy; —Wisconsin Farmer.
TO CLEAR A HOUSE OF VERMIN.
1,. “Burleigh," of the .Boston Journal, says:
“ I tell yon, ladies, a secret that may be
worth your knowing-—a new remedy to
clean a house of roaches, and vermin has
be,en found..,So complete is the remedy that
men offer to ,yid the premises of all these
pestilential nuisances by contract. The ar
ticle.is sold under the name of French green
and other^ high sounding,names, and at quite
* high price.. But {,he article, in plain Eng
liBh„iB cpmmon.gre,eri paint in powder. ~ Six
cents’ worth used 1 about any house will
‘Clear the k;itcben,’ and all its surro.undings.
These pests invest many houses in this city,
an,d wo believe the ladies will
thank us ,fpr suggesting so cheap an eradi
cqtor.”;
The principal of; a school in thn interior
of Missouri i having resigned, the following
application was made, for the-position:
; “Macon Citt, Jim. 14th, 1868.
“ Sir, hearing that the Proffecer of your
high School was-about to resign. I there
fore Solicit your patronage, and think I can
fill the place. If -yon-wish a teacher please
give me call l ean teach all branches You
require. Please address soon—
Kansas City, Mo."
The. answer to tLis application is not re
corded. .... , V,’,,'\
.—Our Young Folks.