SIN
te, Pa., April 19, 1912.
WHEN THE MASTER COMES.
Slowly the dusky curtains of night
Are silently lifted-softly the light
Is glimmering over the eastern sky,
Brightening dark places where shadows lie:
While the dawn is creeping over the hills,
The waking earth, to life and joy serene,
Comes with noiseless footfall, a guest unseen,
Whispering to man, who fain would flee :
“The Master is come and calleth for thee.”
The reapers sing with a glad refrain,
As they bind the sheaves of ripened grain ;
In the rumble and stir of the city's din
‘The toilers are striving fresh laurels to win :
Each weaving a woof in the noontide hours
Of families bright, where no storm-cloud low
ers.
Ere the brilliant pictures have faded and
flown,
Comes into each circle a guest unknown,
And to one of its numbers sayeth he :
*“The Master is come and calleth for thee.”
Twilight is trailing her mantle of gray,
O'er land and sea at the close of day,
For the day is spent, and its burdens of care,
With all by-gone things, oblivion share.
There's a hush in the air that betokens rest;
The tired bird secks its downy nest;
And man craves repose, for his labor is done,
In the tranquil eve comes unbidden, one
Who tenderly says: “Weary child, list to me
“The Master is come and calleth for thee."
Not with trumpet’s blast, nor with roll of
drum,
But unheralded doth the Master come.
From the lowly vale and the mountain tall,
From the humble cot and the stately hall,
From the busy loom and the workshop's
glare,
From the giddy dance and the house of
praver,
From the battle's smoke and the ocean's
foam,
From the haunts of vice and the happy home,
From the ice-bound poles and the torrid line,
From the broad plain's sheen and the gloomy
mine,
From the Bedouin's tent and the purpled |i
throne,
From the jungle wild and the desert lone,
From the infant's cradle, the couch of age,
From the peasant’s plow and the desk of sage
Each answers the summons, and then alone,
He crosses over to realms unknown,
And that voice floats on through eternity;
“The Master is come and calleth for thee.”
—Fanny Alricks Shugert.
A GUEST IN SODOM.
Yes that was Benjamin Rice. He has
heen that way ever since the affair of
the automobile. His mind was run over
and killed by that machine, if minds can
be run over and killed, and sometimes I
they can. I have known Benjamin
Rice ever sifice we were boys together,
and he was smart enough, but he never
quite got through his head the wicked-
Base of the world he had Seen born into.
e thought everybody was as good
and honest as he was, and when he found
out he was mistaken, it was too much for
him. His wife feels justas I do about it.
apn: Teh Jo
pa,” sl says. * pa
make a of his money, but he knew,
the worth of it, through he and his father
before him workin’ so hard to get a little
laid by, and losin’ so much was an awful
shock to him; but that wasn't the worst
of it. Findin’ out what an awful wicked
place this world he was livin’ in was, and
what kind of folks there was in it, just
broke his heart.”
Benjamin's daughter Lizzie says the
same thing.
“Yes, that car just broke poor pa's
heart,’” says she. Lizzie calls it car in-
stead of automobile. Sometimes she calls
it motor-car. Lizzie has had advantages.
Her father didn’t Share money where she
was concerned. went to the Means
money yet, and I don't
to, but she may, if she don’t get married
young; for she favors her father's folks, | lene
nd don’t like to spend and
nothin’ back. et
I don't know whether it was mostly on
Lizzie's account that Benjamin got that
car (guess I will call it car, like her; it's
easier) or on his own. For quite a while
Benjamin had been sayin’ to me sort of
us: “One of these Billy,
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bought the car, he got a fur coat. I don’t
know what kind of critter it come from,
but Benjamin he looked real funny in it.
My wile Said shod Beard of wolves in
sheep's clothin’, Benjamin Rice was a
Seepih Wives Sotnin. Benjamin's wie
didn’t have any fur coat, wrapped
herself up in all the old shawls in the
house,—but Lizzie had a real pretty blue
coat lined with gray fur.
loi some yoars ago tat Benjamin sold
the nine-acre lot the car. He
used that money. He the land to a
real-estate man from the city, and that
3s Whete Suma of the trouble came in.
That night Benjamin came to my house
and showed me the check he'd got for
‘the land. He looked real excited. There
were red spots on his cheeks, and his
blue eyes were shinin’.
Qutss JOU slever saw. a chieck as big
as that, Billy,” says he, and he was right.
Big checks have never come inmy way,
though I've made a fair livin.’ I
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i. says
“What for?” says
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says he: “to go ridin’ round and get a
little pleasure out of livin.’ Look at here,
Billy,” says he, “I'm gettin’ on in years,
and I ain't never had much except my
board and lodgin’ for my hard work. Now
I'm goin’ to take this money, and I'm
goin to buy an automobile, and I'm goin’
to have a little fun, and my wife is goin
0; Ed Lizzie i gyi ' to before she gets
“What kind of an automobile are you
goin’ to buy?” says I, sort of feeble.
"I am goin’ to an automobile off
the Verity Automobile Advance Company
of Landsville, Kentucky. says he.
iy don’t you buy nearer home?”
sa
amily Emerson is agent for them |
automobiles, and he says they are the
best to be had for the money, and he
knows all about them, and he’s goin’ to
show me how to run it, and maybe Liz-
zie can learn, and he's goin’ to keep it in
order,” says he.
“Have you got a guaranty?” says I.
“Lord! yes,” says he; “I'm dealin’
with real square and above-board
If the first car don’t work to t me,
they'll send me another, and they'll sup-
ply all the parts that get broken for
nothin’; but Sammy says nothin’ is goin’
to get broken. He says that machine is
built to last fifty years.”
an, Sammy Emerson ought to know,”
says L
Sammy Emerson we all think is a
us. We shouldn't be surprised if he
id anything. He is a real mechanical
genius. We found it out when he stole
the works of the Baptist church organ
when he was only a boy. That organ be-
gan to act queer, and it acted queerer and
Juesrer, 3 one Sunday Ledge] Jones,
the organist, couldn't get a solitary squea
out of it, though little Tommy Adkins
was blowin’ till he almost dropped. Then
they found out what the trouble was.
The works were gone, and Sammy Emer-
son had another organ most rigged up in
his ma’s barn.
There was an awful fussabout it. That
set up the organ again, though he offer-
ed. But after that we all felt that he was
a genius, though we were rather scared.
My wife said she didn’t know but Sammy
would try to steal her sewin’ machine and
make a flyin’ machine out of it; but
Sammy didn't do much harm after that.
He just tinkered away, and almost did
pretty wonderful things. His ma had
money, and she let him have the barn to
tinker in, and she let him buy lots of old
junk that he thought he could male some-
thing of. Sammy had almost made an
automobile himself. Everybody thought
it would go if he could once get it start.
ed; but he never quite fetched the start-
in". Then he took the Verity agency. I
dare say his ma begun to think he was
spendin’ too much, and had better try to
earn a little to exercise his genius on.
“Well,” says I to Benjamin, "I suppose
Sammy Emerson knows about it. He
ought to.”
Of course he does,” says Benjamin.
“He says it's the best car on the market,
and there's millions back of it.”
“Who is back of it?" says I.
Tea-Kettle Corporation
of Vermont,” says Benjamin.
- to me rather queer that a tea.
kettle concern should take to making
automobiles,” says 1.
Benjamin never got very mad, but he
did look a little riled.
“Don’t see anything queer about it,”
says he. "Anybody knows what the ob-
servation of boilin’ tea-kettles led to, and
everybody that has seen one dancin’ on
the stove at full boil can figure out for
himself that if it had wheels and tires it
might get somewhere. Accordin’ to my
way of thinkin’,” says he, "a tea-kettle
jest naturally leads up to an automobile.”
“Does it run by steam?” says I, a little
sul
u you think me and ma and Lizzie
is goin’ to take any chances of bein’ bu'st
by a steam-engine?” says Benjamin.
course it ruas by »
“Where be you goin’ to get your gaso-
“I'm gol to buy it in Rockland,” says
Benjamin.
“You'll have to cart it,”
“Can't I run the automobile over there,
in?” Benjamin. “And I've cleared
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—it’s only ten miles,—and have it put | would
he.
she fetches you an a
uf blow; and, be
since that pleurisy
I can’t ever crank her, Billy.”
and he i nk i ie:
says sense or
that, he thinks,” says he. Abel was Ben-
jamin’'s hired man, and none too bright.
thing that needed a knack,” says I.
was just like a baby with a rattle over
except he happened
hand was too used up, he could crank
with the other; for he never did learn
the knack of it, and the car always hit
him a crack before he could get clear
enough to know how lame he was, and
much of the time.
came. That evenin’ poor Ben
down to my house, limpin' and lookin’
dreadful cast-down.
“What is the matter?” says I.
“She broke down in Rockland,” says
he “and ma and Lizzie had to come home
by train, and I walked. It is going to cost
so much to keep that car that I must be-
gin to save somewhere. I walked all the
way, and my corns are bad, and the
bunion on my right foot, and I had n't
ought to have come down here to-night,
but ma and Lizzie keep askin’ me if |
think I have got a good car, and I wanted
to get away from it. Women mean well,
but they don’t know when to talk. Oh,
Billy,” says poor Benjamin, "I am dread-
ful’ afraid I have n't got a good car, and
I have sunk all that money into it! The
man over in the automobile place in
Rockland says the drivin’-shaft is bent,
by | and he says it is made of tin, when it
ought to be steel. Oh, Billy, should you
think they would have sold me tin in-
stead of steel?”
Of course I knew better than that.
"Could n't have been tin,” says I
“Mighty r steel, then,” says Benja-
min, dreadful’ mournful. “I'm afraid
I've thrown my money away, and, worse
than that, I 'm afraid there is more wick-
edness in the world than I've ever
dreamed of. I paid them for good steel,
Billy. It don't make much difference
whether it is tin or poor steel, unyway;
it 's bent, and something else they call
the traditional is twisted soit won’t work.
I'm afraid it ’s a pretty bad business,
Billy, and they are goin’ to put up twenty
little, cheap houses on the nine-acre lot,
ard ma and Lizzie say only cheap people
will live in them, and it will spoil our
place. Should you have thought that a
man could do such a thing as that, Billy?”
I pitied Benjamin that night, but I
agreed with him that he had made a
Py bad bargain, and we were both
right.
Once in a while, after Sammy Emerson
had done an extra lot of tinkerin', the
car would run real nice a day and a half
or two days, but she never run over two.
I went out in her once, and I was so sorry
for Benjamin that I chipped in and helped
him pay a man with a team to drag her
to Rockland, then we walked home. That
settled me. I was glad to have poor Ben-
jamin come and tell me his troubles, but
did n't want to walk home.
Well, thin, went on from bad to
worse. Finally Lizzie Rice wrote a real
nice, ladylike letter to the Variable Tea-
Kettle Company, and asked for the mon-
ey back; but they did n't take a mite of
notice of it. Then Benjamin got a law-
yer to look at the contract, and the law-
yer said it was so open that an elephant
could walk between every word without
jostlin’ mew. She Beal gave up
gettin’ ri y the tea. e concern,
but he was real charitable. He said that
said he didn’t doubt they meant
It was a Beautiful fall hat year, not a
mite of snow splendid wea up to
Christmas.
broken steel “I pi them up
in the barn, Billy,” says he; “I don't
know what be.”
evenin’ he came to my house and
“and a new one will cost
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“What folks generally buy ‘em for,” | never can crank her.” He showed me his . and had her tinkered there by a man
who
hand all bruised. “Tt 's a knack,” says said he had been born and brought up in
eaou have to let go of her jest so,or | an automobile school, but after he was |
they were six hours and a half
max came. Benjamin
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sides, I never was quite right in my side | runnin’ her home. Then Benjamin and |
ear’ wv, My | Samm
5 uess |
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN
DAILY THOUGHT.
When we look into the long avenue of the fu,
y tinkered again, and finally the | ture and see the good there is for each one of us
j Rice had | to do, we realize after all what a beautiful thing
- never lost his patience within the mem- | it isto work, and to live, and be happy.
ow be you goin’ to manage?” says I. |
that car. Well, Abel did learn to crank !
it, but I don’t think he ever could have | tional, or the tin drivinshaft, or the |
to use both hands | transgression that's bu'st,”
alike: he was left handed. When one | “damn, damn, damn!”
ory of man. Folks had always said he |
to live; bat he was tried
e and Sammy were out in the
was too
too far.
— Robert Louis Stevenson
Linen blouses in champagne or white
car, and they had only got half a mile in | are being beautifully decorated in punch-
. an hour, when something went off like a
| life.
| Sammy Emerson he was so scared that
he slid out of the car and stood gapin’ up
I was there. |
| ed work for this season's wearing.
“I should n't think Abel could do any- pistol, and the car would n't budge. It!
| was right in front of the store, too, and a i
oa’ Says, BUUjanin | lot of Toles same rome. Loves
in, but he did seem kind o - jamin he just st up in that car : :
cause he could n't crank it himself. He and he damned for the first time in his | Dutton pique or cape glove in tan or gray
For spring wear with tailored suits of |
| whipcords, mohair, serge, etc., the one- |
1 shades obtain.
“I don’t care whether it's the tradi- | —
Some of the new princess petticoats
says he— | have the upper portion made of spun
i silk, with a ribbon across the shoulder |
\ instead of the customary strap.
| at him, and Abel, who had his right hand |
tied up,—sat in the back seat and shook !
from her. Then, too, he was n't bright | all over, Benjamin went on, and it was | terial in evening dress. Chiffons, voiles,
Transparencies are freely used for ma-
something sort of solemn and awful and | and nets are in favor and a large propor-
say he would n't crank; and, too, the car | made you think of the Psalms.
was n't in shape to run, let alone crank, |
; my whole life have I taken the name of
The trouble began the Tuesday after it | the Lord in vain, but now I am pushed
jamin came | on beyond my strength by the devil and
his work. These things"—and he pointed | ) ¢
down at the car, which was smoking up | are usually worn high; they end withtwo
in his face—"are the work of the evil one Or three large buttons, a rosette, sash
I have lived a decent, honest end, a uate how or a large flower—at
life, I have never wronged my fellow-man, , the left front is |
and now it has come to me in my old age | is the favorite silken belt.
me. | - —
himself.
to see evil and have it worked u
I have spent for this worthless thing, the
! work of dishonest hands and dishonest
hearts, money which was earned by hon-
est labor, in the fear of the Lord.”
which did make us stare. Itseemed that
Lizzie Rice had lost in the first car a little
gold breastpin, and she had found it that
very mornin’ slipped into a little hole in
the linin' of one of the
one painted up, and I su they chang-
ed the numbers and ix ey Folks
thought either.
had his same old car back
knew it. So he keeps on, after tellin’ us
that. "I will have nothin’ more to do
with this, so help me God!” says he.
man who dares face the father of
all lies and tamper with his works can
take this automobile and welcome. As
for me, I am done with it. I would not
five it away: I should the receiver.
t I leave it here to be disposed of as
any man among you may wish. It is the
work of iniquity, which I would have died
rather than seen with my old eyes. Oh,
if I could have died before I lost my faith
in my fellow-men, and seen the wicked-
ness of the world!”
With that Benjamin gets down sort of
stiff and majestic, and walks away, and
aves the cay saris’ tue with is two
eyes. But poor Benjamin not
gone far before he began to r, and
then down he went as if he hit
on the head. He had a stroke, and they
(IL was one of them) got him into the
orekeeper's wagon, and carried him
home, and got the doctor. It was all
dreadful. It meant a good deal more
than an automobile, as the doctor said.
He put it just the wayit was. Says he,
“that good, simple man has encountered
the deadly juggernaut of progress of the
times, and has gone down before it.”
But Benjamin didn't die, of course, be-
cause you just saw him. That automo-
bile stood right there in the road several
days while he was so dreadful sick. The
horses shied at it, and the women drag-
ged their children past for fear it might
start up of its own accord. Then one
mornin’ comes the doctor, and says that
Belijanun had game Jo iE Riis
as he ever would, and cou
Bot vary plain. "And he wants this con-
fou rattle
any use for automobiles,
but drove good horses till he quit doe-
So that car was towed back to Ben-
jamin’s, and it has set there in his
since. Benjamin's wife and
made a waterproof cover
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American youth has been freel7 offered
upon our country’s altar, that the nation
might live. It has indeed been a trying
hour for the Republic; but I see in the
near future a crisis approaching that un.
nerves me and causes me to tremble for
the safety of my country.
“As a result of the war, corporations
moment, more anxiety for the safety of
my country than ever before, even in
the midst of the war. God grant that
| my suspicions may be groundless.”
Anyway, the point was that Benjamin |
n, and he |
| tion of the toiletts are in veiled effect,
“I am an old man,” says he; “never in | the chiffon or tulle taking the form of
i
| overdresses, tunics, draperies and scarfs,
i
Silken belts are of the crush order, and
ront is the flower. Black satin
| Have you noticed how everything in
| dress is dominated by the triangle? It
| seems to be an all-pervading notion, and
Then he goes on to tell us something | all draperies and materials are coaxed
| into something which is three-sided. One
| of the most popular forms of the tunic is
a triangle, the apex placed at one side of
the figure and the sides draping up to the
kets; and Ben- | waist on the other side.
jamin knew by that that the company | —
had not sent him a new car, but his old |
One of the newest models for evening
| bodices means a triangle of material drap-
ing one side of the front and another tri-
they must have, but maybe poor Benjamin | angle draping one side of the back, the
never thought about the numbers, any- | two HHiaugles
way, and as for Sammy Emerson, he was | square of the material. The favorite ra-
brighter about mechanics than about | bat is just a triangle of lace, and the tri-
some other things, and maybe he never corner hat is anot
equalling, of course, a
r triangle.
The color schemes are “curiouser and
! curiouser,” as “Alice in Wonderland” de-
clares. The idea of the milliner is appar-
ently to put together the most daring
contrasts, the description of which sounds
much worse than they really are.
As a matter of yy are quite
pleasing to the eye, and one finds oneself
contemplating complacently a chic little
hat of purple and cerise; and Siotier of
a greeny bronze straw turned sharply o
the face with a purple underbrim. "Then
a harmony in blue and green attracted
attention and a deep shade of rich brown
with Nattier and pink.
Ostrich plumes in white are in great
Jemand they rest gracefully round the
hat or stand boldly erect, towering to an
exceptional height. These feathers are
being used in such profusion, in white
chiefly, but a great deal in gray, black
and color that we who wear them should
feel shy of meeting with the unfortunate
bird whom we have thus ruthlessly plun-
dered for our own adornment. |
“What are the one-piece frocks like?
is the question of today. One might ans-
wer that whatever has been invented in
a skirt or in a blouse may be put togeth-
er in a frock.
The majority of them are fastened
down the front, which is a convenience
and does not take away from the le,
as every one su it would. e
skirt remains sti to the blouse in
most gowns, and yet it is quite correct to
have the garments te with the
skirt hooked on to the boned lining of
the waist.
There is no advantage in this. It ne-
cessitates keeping a keen watch over
these hooks and eyes, and it does not
improve the fit around the waist line.
The simplest thing is certainly the stitch-
ng together of the bodice skirt and
fastening both down the middle front or
the left side.
What is known as the “slip-on” comes
near being the most convenient frock
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covered glass and replace with a one.
Cover the board that fits behind the glass
with a piece of flowered or cretonne
FARM NOTES.
—To rid flower pots of earth worms
water with lime water.
—Pots and boxes of stevia should be
‘moved around occasionally to prevent
them rooting through too much, also any
chrysanthemums or other strong rooting
| subjects.
—After all the grape vine is one of the
| surest bearers, as it fruits on new wood
| entirely, and even if some of the new
| vines are neglected it puts out fresh wood
which bears some fruit.
| —Remember that there is no fertilizer
| for the garden that compares with well-
| rotted barnyard manure. Application
; may be made any time during the fall,
| even if the ground is not to be plowed
| tl late.
—All flowers kept in bloom much
{ longer, and the flowers are larger, if not
| allowed to form seeds. Pinch off every
| flower as soon as it begins to fade. This
is especially true of sweet peas and
pansies.
—A Chester county correspondent sent
| some specimens of peach leaves to Pro-
| fessor H. A. Surface, State Zoologist,
| Harrisburg, Pa., and asked for informa-
tion concerning the presence or absence
| of peach-tree borers. To this inquiry
Prolestor Surface gave the following re-
ply:
“Leaves of trees will not give any evi-
| dence as to whether borers are present
or not. You can tell this by looking
| around the base of each tree, and see if
| there is gum there that contains fine par-
| ticles or grains like sawdust. If you find
saw-dust-like material there present, the
borers are there. The gum, either clear
or brown, may be present without bor-
ers. It the fine castings mixed in the
gum show the presence of borers, you
should go after them at once with a
knife and wire, avoid cutting across the
trunks of the trees any more than is ab-
solutely necessary, but cut up and down,
or lengthwise of the trunk, and get the
pests out. Loosening the ground as you
ve done would tend to permit the bor-
ers to go deeper, but after they are once
under the bark they will work down dur-
ing warm and dry weather and for win-
tering, and will work upward when its
wet,
“After you remove the borers from
trees you can leave the roots exposed in
the fall or early spring after the adults
have quit laying their eggs, and before
they commence again in June. In two
or three weeks after the first process of
removal, go over the trees again and re-
move any borers that were left after the
first operation. Then mound the trees
to a height of one-half foot each, and
ki them mounded.
“You can prevent the adults from lay-
ing their by spraying the base of
the trunk with lime-sulphur solution, either
home-boiled or commercial, made the
same as you would for San Jose scale.
To be effective the first coat should be
applied about the middle of June, and
this should be repeated about the first to
the middle of August. If this is done each
r, you will have very little loss from
rers. Remember it is only preventive,
and will not destroy them after they
enter. It should be about the same
strength as for San Jose scale when trees
are dormant, although it is used when
they are in leaf, although not applied to
the leaves. Some sediment or some free
powdered sulphur mixed in the solution
will be effective in helping to prevent
them from laying their eggs.
“The sun will not injure the trees by
removal of earth for searching for borers.
If you examine the trees for these pests
again in the spring, it should be done as
early as possible, because the peach tree
borers remain dormant during the winter,
and commence to feed again in the spring.
“A quart of wood ashes close around the
base of each tree will do some good and
will do no harm, yet I prefer not to place
the strong wood ashes directly over the
roots. I should put some earth on the
roots, and start the mound, then finish
the earth around the trunk, and make a
mound of ashes or lime. This will hel
greatly in preventing the borers. will
t better results from your wood ashes
f you will scatter them around the tree
just a little farther than the branches ex-
tend. In this case they will be acting as
a fertilizer, whereas in the previous case
they will act chiefly as an insect prevent.
ive.
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