a ~e , Pa., April 14, 1911. — m— A CHILD'S EASTER. Had I been there, when Christ, our Lord lay sleeping. Within that tomb in Joseph's garden fair, I would have watched all night beside my Saviour— Had [ been there. Close to the hard, cold stone my soft cheek pressing: Ishould have thought my head lay on His breast; And dreaming that [His dear arms were about me, Have sunk to rest. All through the long, dark night, when others slumbered, Close, close, beside Him still 1 would have stayed, And, knowing how He loved the little chil- dren, Ne'er felt afraid. Tomorrow, to my heart I would have whis- pered, I will rise early in the moming hours, And wandering o'er the hillside | will gather The fairest flowers. Tall, slender lilies (for my Saviour loved them, And tender words about their spake), And golden buttercups, and glad-eyed dais- ies, beauty But just awake. “Grass of the field” in waving feath’ry beauty, He clothed it with that grace, so fair but brief, Mosses all soft and green, and crimson berry, With glossy leaf. While yet the dew is sparkling on the blos- soms, I'll gather them and lay them at His feet, And make the blessed piace where He is sleeping. All fair and sweet. The birds will come I know, and sing above Him, The sparrows whom He cared for when awake, And they will fill the air with joyous music For his dear sake. And thinking thus, the night would soon be passing, Fast drawing near the first glad Easter light. Ah, Lord, if Icould but have seen Thee leav’ ing The grave's dark night! I would have kept so still, so still, and clasp. | ing My hands toether as I do in prayer, I would have knelt reverent, but, oh, so hap- ‘ py. Had I been there. Perhaps He would have bent one look upon me; Perhaps in pity for that weary night He would have laid on my uplifted forehead A touch so light. And all the rest of life I should have felt it, A sacred sign upon my brow impressed And ne'er forgot that precious, lonely vigil, So richly blest, Dear Lord, through death and night I was not near Thee; But in Thy risen glory can rejoice, So, loud and glad in song this Easter morn- ing, Thou'lt hear my voice. ~Anna Trumbull Slosson. WHEN CHRIST AROSE. Beriah entered the room with heavy, stumbling step, for he was as one drunk with sorrow. Nehusta, his wife, raised a warning finger from where she knelt b the couch, whereon lay their sick child, In obedience to her silent signal he sank on a seat nearby. Bending close over the sleeping one to ascertain that the breath of life yet slipped to and fro through the pale lips, she st softly to his side and, placing her hand on his shoulder, questioned him silently with her anxious eyes. ~ “Woe, woe!” broke in grief-laden tones from his lips. “The Just One has per ished. The Lord God of Israel has for- saken His people—the wicked have pre- vailed Woe to Jerusalem! we are un- done. Whither shall we go for help? burdens are grievous; strength we have not; He whom we trusted should redeem Israel is no more?” “Surely,” exclaimed Nehusta, "He con- founded His enemies at the last! Surely He brought all the power of their evil to naught!” “Nay, not so. We hoped to the last that He would indeed prove to be the Promised One. And when all grew black with the shadow of darkness, which, as it were, fell from the skies, and rose from the earth, and closed in from all sides, till it com us, soul and body, then thought I, ‘Now, now, the Lord will show forth His terrible wer and save this Holy Jesus, and cl Him in might ana and honor, and Judah shall lift up head again, and nations shall bow down before her. But woe, woe! there came a terrible =F It was His voice, shrill! with pain terror, ‘My God! my God! why Thou forsaken me?’ And a great wind, the all the powers o could but cast myself down and wait for ther gazing upon . And His mother and John, whom He loved, with a few others, stood near. And afar off were gathered the women of Galilee. A soldier pierced His side and brake the had that bitter father, that He was the child you saw in : | very stones cracked and ey Tack I could not stand; I could not pray. I when you were but a lad?” i “My father cometh,” said Nehusta, as rmsi, bowed with age, entered. | He saluted his daughter and son-in-law, | {heh stood silently Yogi down ‘up Ra- ic “Death would fain our fairest | Sowers,’ le si “Saw the | he said, to the Beriah his head. “Slain by our pri and rulers,” groaned | Ben Carmi. " i gin il rest heavy on | our . Woe tribulation approac on the wings of the wind. Hear ye," he i asked dropping his voice to an awestruck whisper, “that the Temple veil was rent {in twain?” ! Beriah looked at him in speechless hor- ror, while Nehusta shudderingly crouched | to the floor. ; i “Joseph of Arimathea went to Pilate openly and asked for His body, a gave it him; pared it for burial and tomb in the garden near the one that the counsellor hath prepared for himself.” “They say that both the counsellor Jo- and the ruler Nicodemus were His t g g £ 8 ga i gs gcc g¢ =E 3 £ f a L 2 1 As Berizah listened He pu to pass | that night near the tomb. it was eventide he went into the garden at the hours of watching, save for the metallic ring of their armor as they moved and the occasional sound of their voices in blasphemous jest or complaint of weari- ness. Beriah grew cold and tired; sleep pressed heavily on his eyelids and he sank into dreamless slumber. Suddenly heawakened, with every sense unnaturally alert. There was a vague hint of the supernatural in the air; as it were, a whisper of some momentous hap- pening. A soft tremulous light bathed all the place in its pure radiance. Whence it | came be knew not—it simply was. And i he remembered another mysterious night wherein he had seen wonders. A thrill ran through him as he felt the unseen presence of celestial beings. For now were his eyes darkened and he saw not clearly as in childhood, for too long had | his spirit known the earth-life. The air | was filled with a sweet fragrance, and he beheld a strange white flower covering all the ground as far as he could see, and he saw that its silvery whiteness was lu- minous, a flower of light for every star which gemmed the heavens. A holy peace enfolded his spirit, and he saw clearer; and, behold, a shining Pres- | ence and with flaming sword touched the stone that jay at the mouth of the sepulchre, whereat the earth quaked and the stone rolled to one side, and the | guard fell to the earth like dead men. | Again slept. | In the early dawn he was awakened by | voices, standing up saw Peter enter | Se, Jom, while John, stooping, looked within, Beriah saw that all was as it had been, { only the guard was gone and the tomb i was open. No shining flower of Paradise met his sight, but at his feet grew a strange lily of waxen whiteness. He | plucked it and fled, not knowing what he | did, lest he be i When y | child lay turned to hin more bitter than ever. He i him down to the inner room where lay the child in the midst of wailing mourn- ers. Nechusta took the lily from his hand and laid it on the child’s breast; and lo— - a marvel !—color crept into the pale cheek, : she breathed, moved, her eyes quivered and opened. | “She lives!" screamed Nehusta, clasp- ing her in a rapturous embrace. | | i i i i i Food is converted into i digestion. When the tive is deranged | into stomach is an injury to the ' it should sustain. Many a severe . would be saved if ~My doctor told me I would have to quit eating so much meat.” i you Jaugh Bim by scorn? “I did at first, but when he sent in his bill T found he was right.” ~——Subscribe for the WATCHMAN. i { } i | Bethlehem : “Verily, I believe that He was. Yet He ye terrible thing that was permitted today?” others. ' MOTHER'S EASTER LILY. A back in January Wilna had plan- HE Easter, 8 had ever lasted before; y and fruit, which she called "Old Stinginess” and "Mrs. Miser” : when one was neither stingy nor miser- i + ' t 1 i i ed, ; but then, as Wilna remembered, midst of her little griefs, the ot know the eHcumetances, aps, ought not to for thinking and saying these unkind things. And to comfort herself she made little trips now and then to the florist’s store, a ew blocks away, and walked through glass houses trying to decide which of all the budding beauties that 2 fhotein r. . m 4 A os tis Bit of infor- t nt was looking at with its beautiful burden of White nde, was worth more than five times as m And then, just the week before Easter, | when Wilna the money for her sur- prise (turned now into a shining silver quarter) carefully away in a nice Sarin) Cached careful ready to be ex- | changed for the treasure she heart upon, two important things happen First her little cousin Dorothy came to stay at the Martin home, and Wilna, to whose lot it fell to entertain her, could no longer find the spare time to run around and feast her eyes upon the bud- ding lilies in Mr. Perkins’ greenhouse; second, Mrs. Maguire, woman, fell down and broke her leg, and had to be taken to the hospital. And that, as you will presently see, was really the more important h ng of the two. It was the da ore Good Friday, and Wilna, with little Dorothy by her side, set her fone the washer- | The Golden Plover’'s Wandering. £ the little lakes are locked in ice. Here they hurry to make shabby little ‘nests in the mess. only a few inches . above the frozen ground, where they lay their eges and rear their young. As soon as the young birds can fly, in August, the "| flocks shift their quarters to Labrador, . where they grow fat on black crowber- ! ries which cover the nd during the : short summer there. n they are ready ' for their wonderful flight. . Over Labrador and Nova Scotia they . fly, and leaving the coast of the latter i country, they strike directly southward | through the pathless air above the track- | less sea. Over more than eighmesa hun- | dred miles of ocean they urge their aerial | journey to the easternmost of the West Indies, where some of them break their flight and rest for a time, though others keep on and on, until the mainland of South America is reached, twenty-four hundred miles from the Nova Scotian i i Even on the north coast of South America the plovers’ journey is not end- ed, for after a brief halt the southward flight is resumed, across the eastern part of Brazil, until the plains of Argentina are reached, almost down to Patagonia, where remain from September to March. native bicds are busy with their nesting, for this is summer in the southern hemisphere; but the visitors from the North never nest in the South, though the climate is favorable and food is abundant. March comes some instinct awakens in the golden plover, some mys- terious influence calis it once more to | begin its wanderings. Noithward it flies ! again, but not over the route by which it | came south. The course of the first part | of their spring migration is yet unknown, | but in March they appear in Guatemala and Texas. By April the long lines are winging their northward way over tke Mississippi prairies; early in May they enter Canada, and by June the plovers j are once more in the land of the mid- i night sun. Eight thousand miles they have flown northward from the southern limit of their winter home; eight thous- and miles they will go in when the nesting season is over, and their northern | and their southern routes arc three thous- | and miles apart. | No one knows just why the golden plover makes this long journey; in fact, no one knows why any of the birds mi- grate. | | { | { | The Egg of Eastertide. The most ancient symbol of life, the was out on an errand for her mother egg, is associated with the festival of East- when, in passing the door of the Maguire | er, but few of the children or grown-ups cottage, she saw Mamie Maguire, who know just how and why this connection was dea her own age but so much small- | is. er that Wilna’s outgrown frocks and! It is a proverb from the ancients that coats were always passed along to her. “everything springs from the egg; it is Mamie's eyes were red with weeping | the world's cradle.” It is reasonable, when Wilna stopped to ask what was the | then, that the celebration of a rebirth matter, and the two-year-old baby who | should be marked by the gifts of egg:— clung to her skirts was wailing pitifully. | the symbols of life and strength. : "Sure, 'tis throuble enough we're hav-| Many writers assert that the custom ing Miss Wilna, now me mother’s away!” was borrowed from the Jewish use of eggs | the child said, between sobs. “First, it's | during the Passover feasts. Others say the landlord, an’ then it's the coalman, | that it is traceable to the fourth century, an’ now me father's afther takin’ the last cint out o' the house to buy beer wid. Sure, 'tis not wan bite or sup that little Pat has had this mornin’, an’ me awant- in’ to take some oranges to me mother this afthernoon.” And Mamie cried the more bitterly. Wilna looked gravely at the child's pitiful little face. She knew, as did every- one else, that Patrick Maguire spent most of his wife's small earnings at the corner saloon, and that but for the kind- ness of friends the poor woman and her children would have gone h oftener than they did. And now that the moth- er was out of the way the chances were that the children would have nothing that kindly people did not give them. Wilna thought of the bright new quar- ter snugly in her pocketbook, and her face flushed. That quarter could be made to do so much for the two famish- ed little ones if it were carefully spent! She could go home and get food for them, she knew, but that would take time, and meanwhile they were both hi buds so nearly in bloom, the t of giving it up was almost too ul to bear. Still, mother would be “Plhase give me all you can for that,” she said, breathlessly, not stopping to consider her words. "It's for two poor children who haven't had any and I guess Hl I 5 8 2 pi i Fe 3 3! : ] i g = ¢EE gE i i i when the church prohibited the use of eggs during Lent.~This gave an abun- dance of eggs at the end of the forty days, and on Easter parents gave them to | their little ones, making them more at- tractive by the coloring and decoration. There are many peculiar customs in | connection with the egg. In Italy tke peasants believe that a scarlet Easter egg | brings good luck if carried the entire! year. | rolling originated with the farmers | of Europe, who believed that the land over | which eggs were rolled yielded plentiful | Crops. i From Germany came the idea that hares | id eggs. i A general superstition prevails among | the peasant classes of Europe that to paint a cross upon an egg is unlucky, while the decoration with colored flowers is sure to bring good fortune. These are but a few hints of the vast amount of beliefs about eggs at Easter, but a little basket of will mean more to boys or girls if the ughts of other nations be considered in the light of the human interest. i [1a The beautiful water lily roots in the mud below the stream. All the fragrance and fairness of the flower are affected as of the delicate female organs. No wom- an who suifers constantly from female weakness can retain her good looks. One of the facts noted by women who have cured of diseases of the delicate womanly organs by Dr. Pierce's Favorite ion, is the return of the color to fits : 8 £ £ 2 g 3 i : : : | no ealth and physical being are taught with the purest 2 g i : sf is given away. Adviser, 1,008 sent i | FE ! less mob.—~New York American ed by some people that an observance such as the Easter festival had its inauguration in a ceremony that was an outgrowth of a pagan festival. But to the broad-minded the fact appears as an evidence of the lasting traits of man, recurring in different ages, and mod- ified to suit the conditions of the times. The twentieth century celebration is the modern evolution of heathen ideals influenced by those of the Christian re- ligion. From time immemorial man has celebrated the birth of spring —the pass. ing of the gloomy days of winter. It re- mained for the Christians to accept the deeply rooted habits of the pagans and to change the formal celebration t) suit their beliefs. Easter, through the happy initiative of the Emperor Constantine in the fourth century, was celebrated not on the day of the Jewish Passover, but the Sunday after. The variation of the date depends upon the fact that the vernal equinox, or the 21st day of March, is the point from which the first Sunday after the full moon is reckoned. The first observance of Easter dates back as far as 68 A. D. From that time it has meant much to Christians, and in the joyous rebirth of Christ there is a general heartfelt resolution to emerge into the springlike freshness of newer ideals and better things. Rhyme on Marriage Months. "Marry when the year is new, Always loving, kind and true; When Febuary birds do mate, You may wed, dread your fate, If you wed when March winds blow. io and sorrow both you'll know. rry in April when you can, Joy for maiden and for man. Marry in the month of May, You will surely rue the day. Marry when June roses blow, Over land and sea " go. They who in July do wed Must labor always for their bread. Whoever wed in August be, Many changes are sure to see. Marry in ber's shine, Your living will be rich and fine. If in October you do marry, love will come, but riches tarry, If you wed in bleak November, Only joy will come, remember, When December's snows fall fast, Marry and true love will last.” A Long Job. "Where have you been for so long?” | asked the head man of the menagerie. “Been watching one of the animals | clear his throat, sir,” replied the attend- ant. "But does it take half an hour for an animal to clear its throat?” “Yes, sir; it was the giraffe, sir!"— Yonkers Stateman. ———An old sea captain, who prided himself on his wealth of stories, was describing a voyage at dinner one night. | “We passed an island in the Pacific,” | he said, “which was positively red with! lobsters.” “But,” said one of the guests, “lobsters are not red until boiled.” "Of course not,” replied the ever-ready | captain, "but this was a volcanic island with boiling springs.” —*“[ather,” said the minister's little daughter, “the paper says you ‘officiated | at the wedding clad in the traditional garb | of the clergy.’ What does traditional | mean?” " “Traditional,” my dear,” answered the good man as he looked at his cheap suit of black with a sigh, “refers to something that has been handed down.” The Tale of a Key. There is a roll top desk in an office | near Wall street which can be bought cheap. The owner is a commuter and has desk room in a large office. He came late the other day and discover- ed that he had forgotten his keys. No key at hand would unlock the desk. The maker could not give ald | for an hour or more, and some papers | had to be reached before noon. The desk was forcibly opened. and two inner compartments were smashed. Warm and tired from the exertion oH wrecking his property, the man took off his coat and slipped into an office | coat, in the pocket of which his keys | jingled. Tableau! Before going home | he confided to the office boy that he i i woudn't care if he hadn't told.—~New York Tribune. The Piliory. The pillory in England was abol- ished as a punishment, except for per- jury. in 1815 and was totally abol- ished in 1837. The last person to suf- fer at the Old Bailey was one Peter Bossy. for perjury. June 22. 1830. Not- withstanding the fact that this mode of punishment was supposed to be only for the lighter offenses, it often hap- pened that the pillory meant death to those placed in it, the culprit frequent- ly being stoned to death by the heart- Next Best Thing. “Say. Mayme. did you ever have any turtle soup” asked a rawboned youth of the girl beside him. “No,” admitted the maiden; “but,” added she, with the conscious dignity of one who has not been lacking in so- cial experience, “I've been where it was.” —Lippincott’s. The Wherefore. “Why are you so sore on your con gressman } “When we called on him in Washing- | ton last session he made a speech to! us instead of taking us out to luneh™— Kansas City Journal. i High Praise. : Frost—Are the descriptions of scen- ery in Bestseller's novel good? Snow | —QGreat! The best 1 ever skipped.— | Harper's Bazar. ters that go to make up the word | wins a prize. . peated twice in any name counts for two. star FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. DAILY THOUGHT. What doth it profit us to rise with Christ, And share with Him new life on Easter Sunday, If, straightway by the olden snares enticed, We die to Him by sinon Easter Monday? A pretty plan for an Eastertide gather- ing where originality and a knack of giv- ing things a happy turn must take the place of an unlimited supply of pocket money, is an Easter lily affair. Buy for the invitations the note paper with tiny lily sprays replacing the mono- gram, which can be obtai from any large stationer at this season of the year. Or lily shapes cut from white cardboard at home, and having the little notes writ- ten on them are equally effective and Enclose them in green enve- opes. Crepe paper lilies are very easy to make, using the ten cent patterns now sold everywhere for the purpose. These in *diicetion with bands and cartwheels of te of little function, if the girls are asked to wear white gowns, but this detail is contain the greatest number of the let- Lily In case of a tie a letter re- A laughable contest is arranged by i placing each player in front of a black- rd where, with eyes shut, he must | draw an Easter lily. The best drawing is rewarded with a prize, and the worst condemns the artist to draw “a bouquet | of lilies in the air with his forefinger”— that is to say, to go through the motions of doing this. Vary the active games by one where players sit in a circle, and each in turn is called on to give some quotation, allusion or historical reference concerning lilies. All those who fail to remember anything of the kind in the time limits set, with- draw from the group, the