61y famitg THE JORDAN. From " SKETCHES OF PALESTINE," by Rev. E. P Hammond [Some time since we gave a hasty review of the English edition of this book. It is now just issued in this country, as will be seen by reference to our ad vertising column, by T. Nelson & Sous, New York. We quote from it the following lines suggested by re peated visits to the river Jordan.] I stood beside the bubbling spring, From which the Jordan has its birth, And seemed to hear its waters sing, As they come sparkling from the earth, 4 , We from our prison-house are free, The beauteous world we now shall see." Like reckless youth they dashed along, Coquetting with the flowers so fair, And oft I seemed to hear their song, As they went laughing everywhere,— "We o'er the earth may roam at will; In every place be merry still." One day as they went singing by, Kissing each flower that bowed its head ; The golden sun from out the sky,. Then to the youthful river said, Would'st thou in very truth be free ? `linen one day thou shnit dwell with me!" At length its chasing" waters dwelt Within the sea of Galilee ; Restraints of youth no longer felt, I seemed to hear it say to me,— " Fiero shall my manhood's days be passed, For hitherto we've run too fast." But, one day near the Southern, shore, The waters born at Jordan's spring, Within the lake were seen no more, And pensively I heard them sing— " That joyous lake we now have left; We're hastening to the sea of death." The waters, trembling, rolled along, Down, down, toward the bitter sea Anon I heard their mournful song, While borne away from. Galilee,— " And must we there forgotten lie, In yonder sea forever die?" Thus filled with many doubts and fears, The waters of the Jordan fell Into that sea filled with the tears, Of Sodom sinners lost in bell:— The glorious sun with kinitly power, Was with them in their dying hour. The proinise which when in their youth, They from the shining sun had heard, Was then vouchsafed in very truth, And yet again they heard His word; "All pure, you now shall dwell with - me, Yon beauteous sky your home shall be." Oh ! Jordan, I would ever mind The lesson thou host taught to me, And when I near the verge of time, From doubts and fears may I - he free, Oh 1 Sou of Righteousness Divine, Then take me to that home of Thine. With triumph then I can exclaim, Grim death to me it has no sting, To all around. I will proclaim, Thanks be to God, He makes me sing, 4 , The sting of death is only sin, Thro' Christ the victory we win," MR. HAMMOND'S LETT CBS TO THE CHIL- D REN.—No. IV. VERNON, Ct., Aug. 30, 1869. MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS :—A few days ago I was walking quickly along the Railroad, track, in Rockville, when all at once I saw a lit tle boy about eight years of age, running to me, and with tears flowing down his cheeks he cried aloud: "On, DO TAKE OUT MY BROTHER! HE'S FALLEN IN." He kept saying these words over and over, and at the same time pointed along the track in the way I was going. I looked the way he pointed, but I could not see any one at all. I thought at first the train had run over his little brother, and half killed him, and so I looked carefully to find something on the track. But nothing was in sight. I thought the little fellow's head must ,be , turned, and so I left him, and on I ran, for I was in baste to see my dear sister, who had just returned home. But I had not gone but a little way when down in the hole which had been dug to keep cows from walking on the track, was a little boy, not more than six years old, - looking up with tears, and saying, "Do TAKE ME OUT." As he stood down on the bottom, his head was two feet below the top of the ground, and so it was no wonder I could not see him, when his brother called to me. , As I reached down to lift him out, he put his hand in mine, though he had • never seen me before, and I quickly helped hind up He was pleased enough to get out of that, ugly deep hole, and I was glad that a train did not come along when he was in that queer prison. .Some of the burning cinders might have fallen on him and set his air on fire. At any rate, he would have been awfully frightened, and Would have nried louder than ever. You may wonder , why I have told you this lit tle story, but did you know that you are iu worse place than that boy was ? And the trouble is, that unless you are a Christian—unless Jesus has opened your eyes, you are blind and so you' don't know it. I know this is true,: for Jesus says, " Thou knowest not that thou art wretched and miserable and poor and blind." Rev. iii. 2, If that little boy bad been blind, he would not have known when I stood over that pit, and so he would not have called tome, and he could never have got out alone. But if his brother had followed back with me, and said to him, "Here is a man large enough to take you out, if you will ask him," then the little fellow-would not have been long in saying : " Will you please take me out, sir ?" N o w my little reader, I come to you, and find you' in what the Bible calls the "HORRIBLE PIT " of sin, and .I tell you that One " mighty, t 9, save," full -of love—even JESUS, is standing by your aide, waiting for you to say to Him, " Will you please take me out' of this 'horrible pit' into which I have fallen?" lle is always seeking to save the lost., But lin *ill never save you Unless you in earnest ask . Him. , You "say your prayers," but have you Shown half asanuch anx iety to be saved as that boy did to have me get him out of that little prison-house into, which he had fallen ? That boy was crying very bitterly when I 'first met him, Just because his little 'hro, THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1869. ther had got into this ugly trap. 0 it made me ashamed to think how few tears I have shed over poor lost sinners, who are in a thousand times more dangerous condition. When I was a little boy, my dear mother, now in heaven, often u-ed to we .p because I woula not in earnest ask Jesus to open my blind eyes and take me out of the dark pit of sin. I wish I was more like her, and that I might , oftener weep when I think how many blind boys and girls there are in the pit•of sin and in danger of • at last being shut up in that dreadful prison. where God says all the wicked shall bg oast: Read what the Bible says in Psalm ix, 17th. But suppose' that little boy had committed some.great crime in Rockville, and' the officers had decided that, as a• punishment;' he must, for a long time, be kept in that dreary place. Then I should have had no : right to 'take him out.,with, out their permisslon,.. Now that is _something the way it is with you. Before Jesus could have any right to come *to save you, ,HE HAD ..TC. SUE-. FER FOR YOUR SINS ON THE CROSS., To save you, and me from "going down to , the pit i "!,he had to give Himself " A RANSOM " for_ us. 0 then, do not turn -away •frOm SUCH A LOVING SAviobit,•but call to .Him and He will, pay.e you. • .1 PRAYER Here is a little prayer, which You may. use. DEAR LORD . SEEMS, I HAVE FALLEN INTO THE DEEP FIT, AND I CAN 'NEVER GET Oh . ' UNLESS THOU WILT, ,G3pi,F. NE. Tittotr H 4 AST DIED ON ,;TEE CROSS FOR 'SINNERS I YES, FOR LITTLE CHILDREN LIKE ME. TH6ll' ART " MIGHTY TO SAVE." 0 ! SAVE ME. I CRY TO THEE. SAVE ME, SAVE ME! AMEN. A WONDERFUL (UNARY. FROM THE GERMAN. At Cleves, a short time.ago, a ,canary, bird,` was exhibited,:theyonderful tricks and feats performed by which 'male quite a sensation in the , neighborhood. 'The exhibitiir brOught the bird forward, placed him On his fore finger, and said, "My dear Bigon, (the name of the bird) you are now about to appear be,fore a number of talented and' distinguished"' person's; take pains, therefore, that you may not 'disappoint the expectations which have been raised about you. You haire'wen your laurels, do not suffer ~them.to wither." % I All the time the master was making this speech, the bird appeared to be listening, having placed himself in an attitude.Of- the most thoughtful attention, bending down his ear towards the man's mouth, and whenever the exhibitor ceased. speaking, nodding his head in the most expressive manner. If ever a nod was intelligible, indeed clopent, it was this. "Very good," said ids master:' "Let u.. 4 now see that yciu area bird of honor. Favor, us with a little song." The bird sang. "Fie,' that:is. too harsh, it sounds like the croaking of a hoarse raven; something sweeter." if tey." l ) . The bird began to whistle, pipin asf his little throat had been turned into a lute. "Quicker!" or "slower_!" the owner kept' exclaiming. "Quite right, but wharin'the world have you done with your head and your feet? no wonder that you get out of tune, if you forget 'to beat time, iNionsieur Bigon. That's a good Bigon, bra,vo bralol little fellow." , - Everything that he was thus set to do, or of which' he was rethind,ed he did with the most wonderful e.xactitiAo With his ,Itea,d and his. feet, he beat time, and followed every change of time and every variation.in the movement he was Performing. The cries he sang were most correctly rendered,, and followed the strictest musical laws. • "Bravo! bravo!" sounded from all sides of the room. "And won't you show your gratitude for all this praise?" exelaimed the exhibitor., The , Bird bowed-'most respectfully to the audience. The next trick which the: little bird exhibited was to play the soldier with a . . straw for a gun. "You.'ve - had a hard piece of work to'do, my poor Biceon," said the exhibitor, " and you must be ,getting tired. Just a Couple more feats, and you shall have a rest. Show. the Wigs hew to, make a courtesy." The bird dreir one of his little feet behind the other; siiik and raised hirriself again with the utmost ease and grace. "That's right, my little fellow; now for a polite bow." , Ile•made one, bending his head and ucia,p, ing with his foot. , f‘ Now, let's.wind s uTwith a waltz Quick off and - awaY.". Th'e - gleonce, the, yiyacity, the fire with which this command-was obeyed I raised the delight an d admiration of the au dienee.to its 'highest, pitch. Bigon himself, seemed to feel the thirst of approbakiotij shook - his wings, 'and sang a song,, an. the notes of which one seemed to recognize the. exultation of a conqueror. ~ 5.! You have behaved in what 'I calla capi tal way," said the exhibitor, while he fondled his feathered favorite. "just take a little ;nap, while I step'inie yPur place." ' The canary feigned sleep, and acted his Tart BO well, that he 'MAO as if Morpheus 'had been exerting all his powers upon'hiin. Firgt he‘shul one eye, then the., other, ,then he began nodding ;• last of all, he sank so completely on ,one side thit several persons; among ' the audience, stretched - out 'their hands to prevent' hia falling, and immediately he felt iheir iouch; he turned roun 4 lAiid' down upon the other side. At last he ap peared to fall asleep in good earnest; upon which 'the man took:him:off his finger, and placed him on the table, where, as his Mas ter told the audience, the, bird would sleep as long as he himself took his place and per formed his feats. 'Scarcely, however, had he, beghn doing this before a large black cat .§Trang Upon the - table, seized tl* comayy, within his teeth, and in spite of all the efforts of those present, to save Bigon, rushed with him out of the window. The poor exhibitor was inconsolable, as, for some years, the ht procured him a subsistence. tle creature hid GIRLS SHOULD LEARN TO KEEP HOUSE. No young lady can be too well instructed in anything which will affect the comfort of a family., kVhitever position in society she occupies, she needs a practical knowledge of household duties. She may be placed in ouch circumstiloces that it will not be neces sary for her `to perform much domestic la bor; but on tlia account she needs no less knowledge thin if she was obliged to pre side„personally over the cooking-Atoie and 'pantry.' Indca, I have thought, it ,mnre, d iffleult to direct others, and requires more experience, tlan,to do the same work - with Our own hands. ' • 24-41t,ers arffrequrtly so nice and par tienlar that tact' do not like to give'up any part b't the cii4 to the children. This is a great mistake in the management, for they iare liffenbutgefied with labor and need re lief. - Childrdn should; be early taught to Mike themselvemisefUl: to assist their pa rents every ray in their power, and to con sider it a prifilege „ • irdiing persons cannot „realite tha import-- ance' a a thorough knowledge of _house wifery; but those who have suffered the in- Ofinyenience mid 'mortification of ignorance can well appreciate it. Children should be early indulOd 'in• their:dispositien to hake arid experimpritin'Various •ways. lt is often but a troublesome help that they afford, still `it.is a great advantage tothVin: • - 'I know a little girl who, at nine years. old, made a loaf of'bread every week during the' Winter. Her, mother taught •her how much:Yeast, salt and' flour to' use, and she became quite'Wexpert . baker. 'Whenever she is disposed , to try her; skifl in making sim •ple cakes.and pies, she is permitted to•do so. She ia ttina, while amusing herself; learning an important lesson. Her mother calls her -," i little housekeeper,” and often ,permits her to get what is necessaryforthe - table. She hangs the keys hy her side,,and very musi cal is the jingling to her. ears. I think, be fore she is out of ,her teens, upon which she ' has not yet'entered, that'ihe will have some idea hoveto 'cook. . Some pothers„ . .give their. daughters the care of housekeeping, each a week by turns. It seems to me a good arrangement; and a' most useful, part, of their educOion. Do mestic labor is by no means incompatible with the highest degree, of :refinement and mental culture. Nahy of the most elegant, aceemplished women I have known have looked well to their household dUties, and have honored theniselvea and their linSbands in.sp doing, Economy, taste, skill in cookirig, .and neatness of the kitchen, have m..great deal to, do inmakingslifehappy aneproaperous. The' •chrci ar of 'good housekeeping is in order, economy and taste displayed in at tention to little things; and these things have a won,derful influence. dirtykitchen and 'bad "cooking hive driven : many a one from home to. seek comfort and happiness somewhere else., Nene of on excellent girls are fit to be married until 'they are thor oughly educated in the deep and 'profound mysteries of the kitchen.—Presbyterian. A 'WONDERFUL OLOOK; I want to show you ,the wonderful clock which was placed in the cathedral many years ago, and of which I used to read when I. went to the district school: I hardly be lieved,the story then, ? .and supposed it writ ten only to entertain children ; but it :was all true.: It is called the astronomical clock, be cause it points out so friariy - ineiverrients of 'sun, moon, had - planets, 'arid- tells various ,other things', peculiar to:astronomy. , Beside all this the clock also counts the hours, of the day with a' - singular exhibition of moving figures. Look at the central, tower, and about one-third of the distance, from it,s,base you will. see the face of the clock. Just above it on either side,. -,sit ,two cherubs. `The one on the right of the clock holds in his hand a little hammer, and before him is a tiny bell. The one on the left, holdi an hour-glass. Quite a little space above this in the tower, you observe the spectiral ; image ,of Death, holding in eaclibbnY lia;nd a-fiam-• mei., while ,on either side is a large bell. At his left, juat coming into sight is an infant child, having in his hand a weapon. At the same distanpe, on Death's right, is an old gray-haired man. disa,ppearing., Above this, in and neat the top of• the tower, stands a figure representing the Saviour.' look' rap the light. of the large tower,, and you Will see another more slender one, upon the top of, which is .perched a huge 'cock. All these points you must watch very closely,' when the clock strikes twelve. ,Now as , we are quite early you may get a good standing place, for there will soon be a great crowd of people 'here. The crowd was surelt, when I was here, that I was pressed , . baclr•very close to the wall. While we are waiting I will tell you what occurs at pac,h_qua i rter of the hour. At the first quarter l ;aid cherub by the clock face,raises his hammer and strikes the tiny bell; then the little • child" ',thrive .walks by and strikeS with his little hammer the great bell of Death, ,anct , passes , by out pi 3sight, leaving,ihis place to be =occupied by, a youth. At the second quarter. the cherub'atrikes and-the youth walks up and strikes the bell of Death twice• arid passes by and leaves his place:to arm'aribf -age. At third quarter the • cherub strikes and the middle-aged map givesthe great bell three' Strokes and passes on; while an old man with a long white beard and stooping form! aPpeartsto take his ,place. NOw,,you will see as the clock strikes twelve, the moving of all the figures for the fourth quarter and the hour. The first thing you will notice is the quick turning of the hour-glass by the cherub at the left of the clock face. Then the other will strike the little bell, and im mediately the old man above will walk slowly up and strike the bell of death with a trem bling hand four times and pass by out of sight. This is for the fourth quarter and the completion of the hour, and instantly following Death will strike slowly each bell alternately until the twelve strokes are given when there will appear in the niche above, the figure of a man walking before that of the Saviour, and as he passes Him he will stop and bow, and the figure of , Christ will raise his hand to bless him. - Then another will come and another until twelve have passed, representing the twelve apostles. During the passing of the apostles; the cock on the other clock'sPire wastreteh his - neck and flap his wing§'and,er‘bw thiee'times. But the crowd is•here ~and the policemen are here. It is just ono, minute more. see, they raise their hands ,to hush ; the:people. The silence issso great• that our v i erz•breaik ',disturbs it while we wait to see the'workings yob this. wonderful clock at Strasbourg, in France, on the Rhino. BUDGET OF ANEODOTEO. —At a certain splemlid', evening party a haughty young beauty, turned to a student_ who stood near her and said— " Cousin John, I understao yoUr eccentric friend L— is here. DO brine him here and 0 introducehim to me." ThestOent went in search of his friend, and at length found him lounging on , a sofa, " Come L—," said,he, " my beautiful cousin Catharine wishes to be introduced to ye;u." ",Well trot her out John," drawled with an affected yawn. John , returned to his cousin, and advised her to defer the introduction to a more favorable time, repeating the answer he had received. The beauty hpr but the next moment said ". Well, never fear, T - shall insist on being in troduced." • . . After some dela.Y . ,,L- 7 -- was led up, and the ceremony of introductio'n t vira performed. Agree ably surprised by the beauty and commanding appearance of Catharine, made a profound bow; 'but instead _.of returning.,it, ,she stepped backward and, raising her glass surveyed hiirt,de libe,rately from head to foot; then waving the back of her hand towards him. drawled out-- , " , Trot•him off, John ! trot him off! That is enough."- —The North lAtedln 'Sphinx is a periodiCal conducted by the soldiers of tike 2nd bateilion'lOth Foot,. now at Secunderabad. The printing, die" work of soldiers :themselves, would` be creditable to professional workmen; '' The-following storY morth ''quoting :—" The drill`instructor, one of the old stamp; of martinet sergeants—Who - Was i the.terror-of_every recruit, and the remorselCss tyrant of the awkward squad, was Tutting, a 'firing' party through the- funeral exercise. JHawing opermd the ranks, so as to admit the- passage 'of the supposed cortege between.thern, the instiructor ordered the men to 'rest on their artris - reserved! Then by the way of practical explantition,-be , walked,' slowly down the lane formed by the two nab saying as he --moved, 'Now I'm the corpse—pay attention' .Having reached the end of the party, he turned' round, regarded them steadily with- a' Scrutinizing' eye for a moment or two, and then remarked in the most solemn tone of voice, Your 'ands is right, and your 'eads is right, but you 'aven't got that look of regret you onght to 'ave.' " —A preacher, whose custom it was to preach very long sermons, exchanged with one who only preached half as long., At about the cus tomary time for dismissing, the audience began to go out. This hegira continued until all had left but the sexton, who stood it as long as he could, and then, walking up to the pulpit. stairs, said to the preacher in a whisper, ."'When you .have got-through, please lock up, will you, and leavy ,the key at my house, next tothe church ?" —A recent Paris paper thus reports a conver sation•:between two worthy conservatives: "And what has become of 'the son of our friend X?" "Don't ask me; he has turned out badly." " I thought he was intelligent and industrious. What'has become of him ?" "He has become a journalist." " A journalist—and ;his father such an honest man ; kis incredi ble." —Many years since an old lady, more noted ' for her piety than her learning, left her native, Highland hills, for a Short visit (her first) to Edinburgh. While there, she was taken to see the vatious'public places of interest, and among . the rest, Holyrood . Palace' and the Chapel After having shown her and her, friends some of the resting places of the Scottish kings, the guide at length stopped short;at a particular tomb, and More than ordinarly. impressive manner ,re- marled, "An this is the tomb zof King David," on , hearing which announcement, the good old:- woman became greatly excited, and clasping her hands and casting her eyes heavenwaids; gasped out, in wondering ac cents,`' -` Eh, sir, d'ye tell me so ? -Eh, did .1 ever think my, auld e'en would see sic a glorious sight? An' is it really bete what' the, grelt Psalmist ‘ 4 ,Tiiimather ludicrous mistake caused much nixtu i agtnent to the bystanders as well as to theastunished offieial; who little dreamt .his elo Tined would have.such a startling effect.' • . • .The counsel of good. Dr. Marsh to the trades- Man was very sound. The tradesman said.: I have' enough and yet riches flow in. Should I not retire from business?" Dr. Marsh answered —" Yes, if your heart be set on wealth, or if you intetid'io hoard it; No, if you intend to lay out :yburfprofita in 'the service of GOd and mare." +A gentleman of Wirmington hid two of his children, aged respectively thre five 'years, in. his"yard dnring,the, iteeent' edifice, the pur-` pose of viewing it While, thus," edgaged, he doubled thelining . of 'his ,Coat, , and. on looking through it discovered he had as good a throu g h smoked glass. Of course the had to be accommodated with a peep t j ir this impromptu telescope, in which they deeply interested. In the evening wheri ik coat was hanging up in its place, the eldest went toward it, when the little two year ~1,1 b,, frantically shouted to her to leave papa's t o , t for he had the eclipse in his pocket, and .he not touch it. —Charley V—, a bright little fellow nf nearly four years, attended a series of protracted meetings with his mother, in the town of B Charley's father was a, very surly man, and seldort spoke pleasantly to anybody. One evenine., at meeting, the minister talked about bearing. th e cross, if we wished to go to heaven ; and the n eat morning at the breakfast table, Mr. V— seem e d to be more surly than ever; he scolded at every. body, found fault with everything on the table, 'and finally left the house in a great rage. ll e had scarcely closed the 'door, when Charley said. " Ma, pa will go to heaven, won't he ?" " I don' t know, my child," said his mother ; " what makes you think so ?" " Why, ma, you know the mitt. ister said, if we want to go to heaven we must bear the cross, and I'm sure pa does the most ,of anybody; for he is'orosi all the time !"—Rural .Arew-'Yorker: ' • " THE BOY THAT DON'T CARE, James, my son, you aref wasting your time, - .playing -with that kitten, when you ought to be' studying your lesson. y ou will get a bad mark 'if 'you don't study," said. Mrs.. Mason to I.er,;son. " I don't care," replied the boy, as he continued to 'amuse 'himself with the gam. bole of Spot, his pretty'little kitten. ",Rut you ought to care, my dear," re joined.the lady ; with a. ,sigh. "You will gro,w dip an A g norant, good-for-nothing man, if you don't make a good use of your op. portunities." ," I don't care," said James, as be raced into the yard after his amusing playmate. "Don't care• , will, be the,. ruin of that child," said Mrs. Mason to herself. " I must teach him a lesson that he will not easily forget," • Guided 'by this purpose, the lady made no preparations for dinner. When noon arrived, her idle boy rushed into the house, as usual, shouting : ",Mother, I-want my dinner !" I don't care," repeated Mrs. Mason. , James was puzzled. -His mother bad never so treated him before. Her words Were strange words for her to use, and her manner was so cold that he could not under stand, what it meant. .was silent awhile, when he spoke again. "Mother, I want something to eat." " I don't care," was the cool reply. "Bat recess will soon be over, mother, and I shall starve if I don't got some din. nizir," urged James. - "I don't care!' ' ' This was too mach,for the boy to endure. He 'burst into tears. His mother, seeing him 'fairly subdued, laid down her work, and calling him to her side, stroked his hair very' gently,. and Said : . "111 y son, I ; want to make you feel the folly.and sin, Of the habit you have of say ing, I don'l Care.' Suppose I did not really care for you, what would you do for dinner, forckftbing; for.a nice home, for education? Yon Jtow see that I must care for you, or you must suffer verT seriously. And if you must suffer through my lack of care for you, Clon't_you think you will also suffer if you don't care for:yourself? And don't you see that r must 'stiffer, too, if you don't care for my wishes.? • I hope, therefore, you will cease saying, 'I don't care,' and learn to be a thoughtful boy, caring for my wish es arid your own duties." . . James had never looked on evil habits in this light b'efore. .He promised to do bet ter, and,-.after receiving `:a piece of pie, went off to school a wiser, if not better boy. —S. S. Advocate. , , A OHINESE VERSION OF THE PARABLE OP THE PRODIOAL SON. _ Choy Awab, a .young Chinaman, is a scho lar at the Five Points House of Industry- He reads., the Testament in English, and then gives the sense in a dialect of his own- The following is given in the Monthly Re cord for May. Itis the Parable of the Pro digal Son " A man he two sons. Son speak he to father; father got. money; give some he; father he take it all right. ' 1 just now give you 'half! He give him hail; he, go long way—like me come China to New York. No be careful of money, use too much; money all gone; heyery hungry. He went to man. He want work; he .say s all right; he tell him to "feed pigs. He give pigs beans; he eat with pigs' _himself He just 'now talk : 'My father ;he rich man—too much money. What for me stay, here hun gry K . I want go and see my 'father. I say to. im, I very bad. He knows I bad. Em -peror (God) see I bad. ;No , be son, me be coolie. His father talkey to, boy, and say: ' Get handsome coat ; give he ring, give he shoes,, bring he shoes; bring fat cow—kill him; kill him; give him to eat' They very glad. He all same dead; just now come back alive; he lost, he get back.' Number one son come.. He hear music; he tell ser vant, ''What for they ,make music?' He say, 'Your brother come back ; your father very glad he no sick;, he kill fat cow ?' Num ber one,son very angry; he no go inside; very angry. - Father he come out; he say: 'No, no be Angry.' , Number one son, he say: '1 stay-all time by father; never make him angry. My father never kill one fat cow for me. My brother he very bad, he use money too much; he have fat cow and mu sic! Father,say, You no .understand; he just dead,; he now come to life; he lost, he now come back! They make, music." Still' another style of'pOstage stamp is medi tated _by our authorities. *"1
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