6
TROUBLES THAT DO NOT COME.
Of the hard and weary loads
'Neath which we bend and fall.
The troubles that do not come
Are the heaviest ones of all.
For grief that cuts like a knife.
There's oil of comfort and cure.
JLnd the Hand which binds the weight
Britigg strength and grace to endure.
But to phantoms of pain and woe,
The lips of Pity are dumb.
And there's never oil or wine
For troubles that never come.
There's a sons to lighten the toll,
And a staff for climbing the height.
Hut never an Alpine stock
For the hills that are out of sight.
There are bitter herbs enough
In the brimming cup of to-day,
"Without the sprig of rue
From to-morrow's unknown way.
Then take the meal that Is spread.
And go with a song on thy way,
And li t not the morrow shade
The sunshine and joy of to-day.
—lx ttie S. Hlgelow, in Zlon's Herald.
a ■IIIWIWIIB■ ■■■ II»■! inwiimillll IHI
BORN TO SERVE
By Charles M. Sheldon,
I Author of "IN HIS STEPS," "JOHN KING'S
I QUESTION CI.ASS, '' "EDWARD
BL 4®E,' Etc.
(Copyright, liWU, by (.ha ilea il. Shuldonj
CHAPTER VII I.— CONTINUED.
Three months after, Barbara was
warried at her mother's liotne. The
few friends who had been faithful to
her during the days of her service
were present, the Wards, Mr. and
Mrs. Vane, and Mrs. Dillingham, to
gether with three of the girls from
the stores whose friendship for Bar
bara had daily grown in meaning. A
•seminary classmate of Morton's
spoke the words of the service in
which God joined these two eager,
earnest Christian souls in one, and
they twain became one flesh, and an
other home was added to those that
olready on the earth are the best
witness to the possibilities of Heaven
among men.
Five years after this Barbara and
her husband were standing together
one evening in the dining-room of
the parsonage of Marble Square
church, evidently awaiting some
guests.
Ralph Morton was nodding approv
al of some little detail of the table
furnishing, and Barbara was saying:
"So lovely to have the old friends
with us to-night, isn't it, Ralph?"
"Indeed it is. Although I could be
satisfied with present company," tile
minister answered, gallantly. He was
still the lover as well as husband.
"That's selfish." Barbara smiled as
she came around to his side of the
table and stood there with his arm
about her, the love light in her eyes
as strong as ever.
"I have never quite got over that
Interruption of Mrs. Ward's the night
I courted you in your kitchen," he
said, laughing.
"You have had five years to make
it up, sir," Barbara replied, answer
ing his laugh with a caress, and as
the bell rang she ran to the door to
meet her guests.
"We've all come along together, you
see," Mr. Ward said, in his clrcery
fashion, as he entered with Mrs.
Ward and Mr. and Mrs. Vane and
Mrs. Dillingham. "We have been over
to the training school and looked at
the new addition. It's a great help."
The minister and his wife greeted
them eagerly; and when they were
•eatcd at the table after grace was
-asked the talk naturally turned about
the work of the training school and
its results. A neat-looking girl with
a pleasant, intelligent face came in
to serve the first course.
"Jennie," Barbara said, with a
smile that revealed her winsomeness
and proved that the years had added
to its power, "these are old friends
of mine. You have met Mrs. Ward.
This is Mr. Ward, Mrs. Dillingham,
Mr. and Mrs. Vane, Jennie Mason."
The girl nodded pleasantly in re
sponse to the words of greeting given
her, and when her work was over she
went out.
"Is Miss Mason one of your girls?"
Mrs. Vane asked, rubbing her nose vig
orously, as her wont was when she
had some particular problem in mint^
"Yes, she is just out of the school.
She is really fitting herself for hos
pital service, but wanted to take the
course, and is with me this winter."
"Are these her muffins?" Mr. Ward
inquired, suspiciously.
"No, sir," Barbara laughed. "Those
sre mine. I made them specially for
you in memory of the old times."
"Ah, we've never had any like them
since you left us for a better place,
have we, Martha?" Mr. Ward said,
turning to his wife.
"No, not even the girls from Bar
bara's school can equal her," Mrs.
Ward answered, giving Barbara a
grateful look. The years had strength
-soed their friendship and love.
"I don't see that the training school
bas solved the hired girl prob, .m in
Crawford." Mrs. Vane said, as if vexed
st something she had heard. "Al
though it is wonderful what has been
done in so short a time."
"We've had our woes," Barbara an
swered, with a sigh. "It takes so
long to make people see the Divine
side of service. Now, Jennie, as good
snd capable a girl as she is, longs
to escape from the drudgery, as she
calls it, and become something be
sides a servant."
"As long as humanity is what it is,
I imagine that will always keep the
problem unsolved. But I am sure the
girls who go out of the school are
learning the beauty of service more
snd more every year."
"I can speak for the truth of
that," Mrs. iJillingham nodded vigor
ously to Barbara across the table.
"The girl you sent me last week is a
treasure. She is neat, competent and
Christian. lam ready to pay her the
ttiaximum wages at the start."
Mrs. Dillingham referred to a scale
of wages agreed upon in Crawford
since the training school was started.
This scale was a mutual agreement
between housekeepers and servants,
and was regulated by certain well
defined conditions of competency. It
provided for a certain increase every
month of a small amount, and had
proved mutually helpful as far as
tried.
"At the same time," Mrs. Ward snid,
"I don't believe the servant girl prob
lem is mostly one of wages or work.
I believe it is more r> question or an
understanding on the part of those
who go out to service of the oppor
tunity to serve, and the real joy of
being in a place where one is really
needed by the homes of the world."
"Hear! hear!" cried Mr. Vane, who
was a rarely modest man and seldom
took any extended part in the talk.
"That's what Mrs. Morton nas always
preached, if I understand her."
"Indeed, jes!' Barbara answered,
her eyes flashing with enthusiasm.
"All we have done so far in the train
ing school has been to make an hon
est effort to teach girls to be compe
tent in the affairs of the house so
far as its management is concerned,
and after doing that comes the hard
est part of it —to help the girls to see
the divine side of service. That is
particularly hard to teach, especial
ly if, as in the case of several of our
best girls, they have suffered injus
tice and un-Christian treatment from
so-called Christian women. That is
still my greatest problem. I think I
could soon furnish all the competent
help that Crawford needs if house
keepers would do their purt to solve
the difficulties, just as you helped
me," Barbara added, turning to Mrs.
Ward and Mrs. Vane.
She was going to add a word more
to the little "preachment," as Mr.
Morton called it, when the company
was startled by the appearance of a
little figure in white, which had
stolen down the stairs and suddenly
appeared in the dining-room.
"Why don't 1 have any of iliis?" the
figure said, reproachfully, and every
body laughed while the child ran
around to Barbara and put a curly
head in her lap.
"Now, then, little boys that are put
to bed must stay there," Barbara
said, smiling at the sweet face that
looked uj) at her after the first mo
ment.
"Can't T stay and have some?" the
child asked, pleading a little. "I
dreamed you were having some good
things without me, and 1 thought you
would miss me; and—and —so —I came
down."
Barbara hesitated and looked over
at the father. Ralph's lips trembled
suspiciously, but he said, gently, but
firmly: "No, Carl, you must go right
back to bed. It is too late for little
boys to be up. We are very much
obliged for your call, but we cannot
ask you to stay."
"All right," said Carl, sturdily. He
raised his face to his mother's and
kissed her, and marched sturdily out
of the room. At the door he fired a
parting shot.
"If there's anything left, save Mar
tha and me some."
He vanished up the stairs amid a
general laugh, and Mrs. Ward wiped
mm i?
"THESE ARE MINE. I MADE THEM
ESPECIALLY FOR YOU."
her eyes. It was more than laughter
that had brought tears to them.
"I think you have the most beauti
ful children, Barbara. I never saw
ajiy that minded like your Carl."
"I'm afraid they obey their father
better than me," Barbara answered,
slowly. "But they are lovely chil
dren. Did you ever see anything
more funny than the look on his face
as he said: 'Why don't I have some
of this?' And as for Martha—" Bar
bara's eyes dimmed at the vision of
that little one upstairs; and when
she came back to her conversation
Mr. Ward was saying: "That was a
trying time, Barbara. I tell you now,
that I had no sort of expectation
that you could hold your own in
Marble Square. The night you were
married I knew there were a dozen
families fully intending to leave the
church and never come back."
"And yet they didn't. At least, not
more than two or three. How do you
account for it?" Mrs. Vane asked the
question, and then answered it her
self: "Plain enough. They learned
to love the minister's wife."
"Same's I did," said Ralph, bowing
to Barbara. "I knew I was safe all
the time."
"But there are some people that
never called on you yet, my dear?'
Mrs. Dillingham asked.
"Yea, quite a number," Barbara an
swered, quietly. "It does not hurt
me. I am very happy."
The little company was silent a mo
ment. Each was tracing in memory
some of the eventful things of the
last five years.
"It is a great work you and Mr.
Morton have done," Mrs. Ward aaid,
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5. 1901.
at last. "When you came into my
house, Barbara, six years ago, I was
a fretful, irritable, cross woman.
Your definition of Christian service
really saved us our home. What you
are doing for other girls in training
them to have a Divine thought of
service is saving many other homes
in Crawford. I know it, because I
see the effects on my friends wher
ever your girls have gone, lou will
never know, Barbara, all the good
you have done amongst us."
"(iod has been very good to me,"
said Barbara, softly.
"He has been goua to us all," her
husband added, gently.
After supper Barbara went upstairs
to see her mother and say good night
to her. Mrs. Clark had for two years
been confined to her room through
an accident. This was one of the
cheerful burdens that Barbara had
carried since her home began. She
stayed with her mother for some
time, and Ralph came up and joined
her, with Mrs. Ward, until the invalid
ordered them all downstairs again.
"The children are company for
me," she said, and Barbara's tears
fell as she said to Mrs. Ward: "I
do believe mother is glad that she is
one of the 'shut-ins.' She does enjoy
Carl and Martha so! They play to
gether all tlie time, and even when
they are asleep mother calls them
company." She kissed her mother
good night and joined the company
downstairs.
"Gh, did 1 tell you?" she said, as she
came down. "Ralph and I invited in
a little group of friends among the
young people to-night. They'll be
here pretty soon."
"We hope they're from a class of
society that is equal to ours, Bar
bara," said Mr. Ward, gravely. "The
last time I was here Morton intro
duced me to a lot of people who work
with their hands in making an hon
est living. That isn't the 'best so
ciety' you know in Crawford."
Barbara looked at him humorously.
"Remarks like that do not frighten
me any more," she said. "The 'best
society' to me is made up of people
who have begun to learn the lesson
of Divine service for human needs."
The young people arrived a little
later. They were young men and
women whom Ralph and Barbara had
met and drawn into the circle of
their companionship in service. There
were eight or ten girls who were out
at service and had been trained in
the school as Barbara's own pupils.
There were three or four girls from
Bondman's, who were trying to live
in little apartments, in one or two
cases, to Barbara's own knowledge,
in terrible danger of losing their vir
tue on account of their surroundings.
The careless-looking girl was there,
the one whom Barbara had actually
saved from the pit; and with the
litrht of life in her transformed face
she was living a tiseful life as man
ager of a temperance restaurant in
the city. She was engaged to one of
the clerks in Bondman's, and they
were to be married soon and begin
a little business of their own in con
nection with the restaurant. As Bar
bara watched them talking together
with her husband she said to her
self: "It is worth all it cost to save
her," and only God and Barbara will
ever know how much it cost, and
they will never tell.
Then there were half a dozen
young men from various places in
the city, all of whom had no homes
and had been saved by Morton from
an aimless or sinful life. Nearly all
of the young people were among the
wage-earners.
There were light refreshments
passed after an evening of animated
talk, interspersed with much good
music and several games, in which
Mr. Morton surprised even Barbara
with his good spirit and an ability
like genius in setting everybody at
ease.
About ten o'clock the minister
called the guests' attention to the
hour, and said, quietly: "We'll have
our usual service to close with."
Most of them seemed familiar with
the custom at the parsonage,, and
the company was soon quietly seated
in the two large rooms.
Ralph turned to Matthew's Gospel
and read the passage in which Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, defines the
term "brotherhood." "While He was
yet speaking to the multitudes, be
hold, His mother and His brethren
stood without, seeking to speak to
Him. And one said unto Him, Be
hold, Thy mother and Thy brethren
stand without, seeking to speak to
Thee. But lie answered and said
unto him that told him, Who is my
mother? and who are my brethren?
And He stretched forth His hand to
wards His disciples, and said, Be
hold my mother and my brethren!
For whosoever shall do the will of
my Father which is in Heaven, he is
my brother and sister and mother."
He commented on it briefly, and then
read the other passage which con
tains the matchless statement of
service as given by Jesus again: "For
the Son of man came not to be min
istered unto but to minister and to
give His life a ransom for many."
"The world will solve all hard ques
tions if it only brings enough love
to bear upon them," he said, looking
out earnestly at the silent, eager
young life in the circle. "Love can
do all things. If only we learn that
service is Divine, we can learn how
to make a better world and redeem
our brothers and sisters."
He offered a brief prayer that the
Father would bless all the lives pres
ent and all dear to them, and give
them strength for another day's
work after a night's peaceful rest;
and after the prayer the guests quiet
ly went away after a strong hand
shake and hearty "God bless you"
from the young preacher and his
wife. Ah, Ralph and Barbara, only
the judgment will reveal the number
of jewels in your crown. For you
have saved souls from death here and
despair hereafter.
When Mrs. Dillingham went out,
as she walked along with Mrs. Vane
and the Wards, for they lived only a
! short distance from the parsonage,
| she said: "Well, there was a time
when no one could have made me
believe in the sort of evening I have
1 spent to-night. I rubbed my eyes
several times, thinking maybe I was
resurrected, living in another world."
"I don't think the millennium has
I come quite yet," said Mr. Ward, "not
j even in Crawford. And yet Barbara
and Morton seem to have made a lit
j tie one of their own around them."
"Perhaps that's the way the big
| one is going to begin," suggested
! Mrs. Vane, wisely.
When all the people had gone
j Ralph Morton and Barbara reviewed
j the evening.
i "They had a good time, Tam sure,
i It's worth while, isn't it, dear?"
j "Yes, even if I haven't solved the
servant girl problem like a mathe
matical thing with an exact answer,"
' Barbara said, smiling,
j "Human probletns are not solved
! that way, Barbara. I always feel
; suspicious of an economic formula
j that claims to bring in the millen
nium like an express train running
on a schedule time. But this muc;h
we do know from our own experi
| ence: Love is the great solution, the
final solution, of all earth's troubles.
I We know it is, because God is love.
And service between man and man
will be what it ought to be when love
| between man and man is what it
ought to be, and not until then."
"I am glad," said Barbara, "that we
i have learned that. I am glad that
I we wero born to serve."
' "Amen," said Morton, gently.
"Thanks be to God for the Servant
of the human race."
| So hand in hand these two, through
their church and home, are minister
ing to-day to the needy of the broth
erhood. Hand in hand they look with
I the hope of God for the dawn of a
better day and the victory which al
i ways crowns the greatest of all hu
! man forces, the love of man for man.
[THE END ]
CHILD MELTED HIS HEART.
What tlie Pinched Fa«*e Did for the
Hard Mnu of the
World.
He was comfortable and full-fed,
having just done ample justice to a
sumptuous meal. As he stood in the
door of the cafe a ragged, unkempt
individual approached him and asked
for money that he might eat. The
man looked at him coldly and shook
his head. "Pass-on," he said, roughly,
says the Denver Times.
As the tramp disappeared around
the corner the hard lines around the
man's mouth grew harder and his
eyes colder. He was thinking of how
he had to work for his money. Why
couldn't this able-bodied tramp do the
same? Then a piping treble broke in
on his thoughts. The man looked
down and beheld a diminutive person—
a litle girl with a half-dozen papers
under her arm and the saddest and
most pitifully hungcr-pinclied face in
the world.
"Buy a paper, mister?" she asked.
The man cleared his throat. "Why.
yes, certainly; here." He handed her
a silver dollar.
"I hain't got the change," the little
woman said, hesitatingly.
"Don't want it; keep it."
The man looked down the street and
wondered why his heart had suddenly
grown so warm. The child was silent,
awed with the vast wealth that had
just been thrust upon her. The man
reached down and patted her head.
"You're a mighty small affair to be
out on the street," he said, almost ten
derly.
She did not reply. Her mind was still
dazzled with her newly-acquired
wealth. Finally she found her voice.
"Good-iby, mister," she said, backing
away.
"Good-by, little girl," and the man
coughed suspiciously. "Gad!" he said,
half aloud. "I'm glad and thankful my
babies are in out of the cold. Poor lit
tle thing. I wonder if she has any
place togo?"
Then he walked down the street,
feeling strangely at peace with himseli
and' the world.
Why They Were Selected.
Tt has been recorded that Gfcn.
Henry Knox, in 1783, was the "great
est" of 11 distinguished officers of
the army, weighing 280 pounds. Noah
Brooks, in his book entitled "Henry
Knox," gives the following incident
relatiing to the general's full habit:
"With a Capt. Sargent, he was selected
to present the hard case of the starv
ing and naked men at Valley Forge to
the attention of a committee of
congress. One of the congressmen,
wishing to show his wit and sa.rcasm,
said that he had never seen a fatter
man than Gen. Knox, nor a better
dressed man than his associate. Knox
managed to keep his temper and re
mained silent, but his subordinate re
torted: 'The corps, out of respect to
congress, and themselves, have sent
as their representatives the only
man who had an ounce of superfluous
flesh on his body and the only other
who possessed a complete suit of
clothes.' " —Youth's Companion.
l'ut and Diddy,
Pat was a bashful lover and Biddy
was coy—but not too coy.
"Biddy," Pat began, timidly, "did
yeer iver **ink av marryin'?"
"Sure, now, th' subject has niver in
tered me thoughts," demurely replied
Biddy.
"It's sorry Oi am," said Pat, turn
ing away.
"Wan minute, Pat!" called Biddy,
softly. "Ye've set me a-thiukin'."—
Harper's Bazar.
Money and the Mare.
Money indeed makes the mare go;
but whether this indicates pecuniary
power or feminine weakness, merely,
does not definitely appear.—Detroit
Journal,
PUZZLE PICTURE.
"HAVE Yor A MATCH, YOI \G MAXF
WHERE IS THE VOlMi MAX t
A STUDY IN CASTE.
One of the Peripatetic Gentry Who
\VJI» Particular About II IM
(InMMlficiition.
Human nature is so happily con
stituted that as long 1 as the humble
man has an humbler man to look
down upon lie can still maintain a
deg-ree of dig-nity and self-respect,
says the Detroit Free I'ress.
To the back door of a city resi
dence the other day came an old man
tramp. He was grimy and tattered,
weary and wretched in appearance;
but asked no money—merely some- j
thing to eat. A e\\jf of hot coffee was '
added to the bread and meat be- I
stowed upon the poor fellow, and as
he munched and sipped contentedly,
albeit ravenously, on the doorstep,
the lady of the house chatted with
him. He said that lie was from old
England—that he was once a travel
ing tinker and made good wages
every day, but that he had grown
old, work made him very tired, so he
had concluded to beg his bread.
"Couldn't you find occupation of
some kind, somewhere?" asked the j
sympathetic lady. "It would surely |
I The Duties of the Rich I
i - 1
By HON. ABRAM S. HEWITT, %
'yj Ex-Mayor of New York.
# I
The rich owe certain duties to the poor.
If they fail to perform them the future of America must be viewed
■■PBHHP One of these duties is to improve the
' environment of the poor who are congested
Hv - Hill ' n tenement districts of the big cities. Con
ditions in those localities are such now that
jfejllflilpf JjgP ' s almost impossible for the people to
lead decent lives. If the rich were alive to
* l ' ie ' r duty such a thing would be impossible.
cd States" is a phrase heard around the
j** ' w °rld. The country is rolling in wealth.
UNLESS THE POORER CLASSES
HfrMPrri l «i ■!■■.■■■■ g HARE 1N AND PROFIT DIRECTLY
Hon. Abrams. Hewitt. By THIS GREAT ACCUMULATION
OF WEALTH, IN IMPROVED CONDITIONS OF LIFE AND
HOME OUR ADVANCEMENT IS TO BE REGRETTED
RATHER THAN ADMIRED.
Our very progress has produced to a great extent the conditions
of which I complain. But remember this: IT IS NOT TO BE DE
FENDED THAT THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH SHALL
GO ON AT THE EXPENSE OF HUMANITY, AND IT IS NOT
TO BE TOLERATED THAT ONE CLASS SHALL GROW
RICHER AND ANOTHER CLASS MORE WRETCHED.
At the close of my life I feel I am justified in saying that unless
the means which the rich have acquired arc used for the general good
of society, as a trust fund which they should have only the right to
administer, the lives of such rich men are a failure.
I am glad to say that this view of wealth is becoming very preva
lent. We have men of great wealth to-day who are busy distributing
it in their own life-time.
I am the reverse of an agrarian or an anarchist or a socialist.
But I believe that the individual has rights and privileges that the
community should protect. The family is the foundation of social
progress and society should take care that everyone as far as pos
sible shall have a fair chance.
For the past 20 years, notwithstanding schools and churches and
benevolent societies, the chances for tiie children of the poor born
in New York have not been improved. I speak from observation
here. I suppose the same holds good in other great cities. To con
vince you all you have to do is tc go over to the East side of New
York and see the streets crowded with specks of humanity surrounded
with influences that are simply dreadful. They have not been fairly
dealt with, these little children. Here is a chance for the rich.
Suitable provisions, too, should be made for worthy old people
who have no means at the end of their career for their support. There
is the poor house. Yes. But the poor house is not the proper home
for respectable old people. The rich who are looking for something
to give money to cannot do better than to devote it to this purpose.
In this country the making of money should not be regarded as
the onlv object. TIIE MAKING OF CHARACTER IS ALL IM
PORTANT.
be less tiresome than walking as
much as you do, to beg'."
"Oh, no, lady," replied the old
tramp. "An' I hain't a low-down beg
gar; I hain't the lowest o' the low,
lady. Na, na; there's a class twixt
me an' tli' gypsies."
I'orcelain Toner for Paris.
Paris is to have a porcelain tower
which will rival in size and beauty any
similar structure in China. It is to be
over 130 feet high, covered with porce
lain decorations made for the purpose
I at the government factory of Serves,
j and will be erected in the Park of St.
Cloud, on the site of the old tower
i known as "Diogenes' Lantern."—X. Y.
I Post.
One PONNIIIIC 1 MC.
"Do yon think, professor," said a
musically-ambitious youth, "that I
can ever do anything with my
voice?"
"Well," was the cautious reply, "it
may come in handy to halloa with
in case of fire."—London Tit-Bits.
Do lii Now York.
Philadelphia has quite a coloi.*v of
1 business men who, while maintaining
| families in the Quaker city, do business
j in New York.—Boston Herald.