Bera ican "Bellefonte, Pa. January 2, 1920. A NEW YEAR’S MOTTO. I asked the New Year for some motto sweet, , Seme rule of life with which to guide my feet. I asked and paused. He answered soft and low: “God’s will to know.” “Will knowledge, then, suffice, New Year?” I cried; And ere the question into silence died The answer came: “Nay, but remember too, God’s will to do.” Once more I asked: tell?” And once again the answer softly fell: “Is there no more to “Yes; this one thing, all other things above— God’s will to love.” —Anonymous. A RIDE IN THE NIGHT. Weyling turned from the book he was reading and, resting an elbow on the window sill, tried to look out in the dark December night, while he listened to the swirl of rain and the weird whistling of the wind in the hills. It was a most unusual winter. Deep snow had been followed by a spring-like spell of warm weather; and for days an unremitting down- pour of water raged. “Thinking of Mason, Carlton?” his mother asked softly, as she glanced up from her darning. He nodded and turned back to his book mechanically. Over beyond the mountainous hill toward which he had looked lived his business partner. The two young fellows had banded togeth- er a few months previous as carpen- ter-jobbers, with the hope of estab- lishing a building firm. Then the chance of a small contract coming along made trouble. The enthusias- tic Mason was eager to take it. Wey- ling, suspicious of the man offering the work had been more cautious and had finally declined it. The disappointed Mason, admitting Carlton’s authority, had yet question- ed his judgment. A discussion en- sued, argument ,and then something spirited in the way of talk. In the end there had been a burst of unwar- ranted wrath from Mason and a rup- ture of friendly relation as Mason flung himself off. #Too bad!” Mrs. Weyling said with a sigh, “Too bad!” And tomorrow is New Year's. It's a pity to start -Weyling put his book aside a sec- ond time and once more gazed out futilely through the window toward the-high ‘hill whence came the sound of heavy rain, of wind and the roaring, rushing fullness of the ravines. “New Year’s!” Weyling thought of that again. In a few hours the old year would be gone. The idea of start- ing the new one right appealed might- ily to Weyling. Yet until Mason was willing to meet his partner half way there seemed little chance of a truce. ‘Weyling had already, but in vain, dene his best to heal the breach. “Tiere’s just one possibility left, hewever,” he mused hopefully. “Ma- sen might not refuse to make up on the wey eve of New Year's.” The young fellow looked at his mother. She would never approve of his riding late over the lonely moun- tain on a wild night like this. But his mother at that moment, on the plea of a cold, decided to go to bed. A few minutes later Weyling stole quietly from the house and saddled this horse. The trip would involve only three or four miles of riding—of a little slower riding than usual, perhaps, on account of the storm. But that was mothing if by it a wounded friendship could quickly be healed. “It certainly is a bad night,” Wey- ling confessed, as, drawing his rubber coat closer around him, he cantered up the road on the edge of the ravine, between the railroad and the basin sro the car-wheel shops were locat- ‘That basin was peculiarly lic a saucer, with a considerable cup of a pond beside it to hold the water sup- ~ ply of the shop. In the elongated saucer itself were a number of houses for workmen. “I wouldn’t want to be sleeping down In the hole tonight,” Weyling meditated, “if the pond should break loose. Strikes me it would be damp, cold work wading out in one’s back yard to put a hawser on the chicken coop.” Yet inconvenience and decided dis- comfort would have been nearly the whole of the risk in the event of the dam breaking. The pond was com- paratively shallow, and down through the saucer ran a deep