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