THE UNFORTUNATE.
Because a woman does a thing
Which she should never do,
It is not right that you should bring
Her shame to public view,
It only adds a deeper sting
And makes her careless, too.
Remember, then, some day may bring
The selfsame fate to you.
Then bear in mind e'er you express
The feeling of your heart,
To pity those in deep distress
Should be a Christian's part.
Look not with scorn upon her then,
Nor deem her soul untrue.
She only sank and yielded when
Misfortune came to view.
Pray do not curse her when she falls
Into the path of sin,
Her heart will glow when friendship calls
Her erring soul to win
Her gentle bosom still retains
\ thought of better days
Will no one heed when she complains,
None try her hopes to raise ?
We all have faults to some degree,
The monarch and the knave;
But. O it makes me sad to see
A woman play the slave.
She was not born to be
Of every selfish will;
Remember if she breaks the rule
. 111
18 8 woman sti
the tool
Irish driver:
tom House, sorr.
rare of it vou'll be seei
The front’s behind.
A little girl,
grandfather where
with
being asked
cotton grew,
the greatest simplicity,
gentlemen’s ears.’’
Whieh is the
The room for improyement,
largest room In the
world ?
leason wrapped up in a few words is
generally of the greatest weight.
ir vears old was re-
witness in a police
question
a the
who told
what became of ildren
lies, innocentiy re were
sent to bed.
mouth of
Th
i ie
Store.
he door
revolver,
get
men
what vou have done 1
A man went t
hing to be conv
» thermomekron
Ve 7eT0
nnocently replied
When Moore's Lali
lady Holland said to him:
I dont
i
ronrke. 1 don’t like Irish
appeared
Mr. Moore,
intend to read vour Larry OF
stories. ”’
New servant: ‘Oh, if you haven't
any children I can’t come, because
whenever anvthing is broken there will
he nobody to blame it on but me.”
hurts a man. nothing harts
a party, so terribly as fool friends, A
fool friend always searches every nook
and corner of his conscience to find a
reason for deserting a friend or prin-
ciple.
A little boy was deeply interested in
reading “The Pilgrim's Progress,” the
characters im that wonderful book being
all living men and women to him. One
day he came to his grandma, and said :
‘Grandma. which of all the people do
vou like the best 7*° **I like Christian,”
was the reply, giving the little boy her
reasons. “Which do you like the best 7°
Looking up in her face with some hesi-
tation, he said, slowly: “1 like Christi
ana.” “Why, my son ?'’ ‘‘Because she
took the children with her, grandma.’’
When the officials of a banking insti-
tution commence to use the funds for
their own benefit, they say, *‘Let’s
speculate.’ Pretty soon this suggestion
js slightly ehanged to ** Let's peculate.™
“1g this the Adams house ?'' inquire
a stranger of a Bostonian, * Yes, till
you get to the roof ; then it’s eaves,’
A Chicago clothing store gives apres
ent of a coal stove with an overcoat.
That is a great deal better than painting
a fireplace on the tail of a coat or put-
ting a coil of steam pipe in the back
lining, Some of the ready-made coats
need a furnace in them to keep a man
warm. More wo)l and wadding and
less coal stoves is what the boys want.
VANISHED HOURS.
Where are they gone, those dear,
days,
Those sweet past days of long ago,
W hose ghosts go floating to and fro,
When evening leads us through her maze?
Where are they gone
Who weave once more that long-passed
spell ?
They did exist when we were young
We met our life with strengh and trust,
We deemed ail things were pure and just,
Nor knew life had a double tongue
We lightly sang a happy song,
Nor dreamed our way could
Wrong.
be
e er
And then all changed ; as life went by.
The friend deceived, or bitter death,
.
And would not also let us die.
Day followed day : as on they went
Each took some gift that life had sent.
Yet it was ours, that perfect past!
We did have daye that knew not pain,
We once had friends death had not ta en
And flowers and songs that could not 1 ast
Were ours in that most blessed time,
When earth seemed heaven's enchanted
me.
think whe
Those dear dead days we w
renthe on as from then
"No." he answered. ands
Mr. Faxon bore no resem!
an wile A
tari nm
GATK, Strongiy
painici
built.active,
3, he impressed one as a strong
If. with a remarkable rich
thers
Was
character.
comliness of countenance, were
some sensual | there also a
es,
certain evidence of strong, good sense,
Mr,
i
and a look of deep EXPETIONCes,
Faxon looked like a man who can
weight,
He was up and away at daybreak the
next An
eastward. and nine o'clock found
day. early rain bore him
him
landed at a litte station called Seabrook,
The dismal little building was set in
a field of é¢lovér. aronnd which a road
wound away among mounds of verdure,
After
took this road, and walked slowly along.
a glance around, Mr. Faxon
The robins hopped across it; the bobbo-
The un-
assuming white clover among the grass
perfumed the cool morning air.
Ie passed only a few houses, but he
observed them attentively, They were
all old and humble farm bouses, Ap-
parently this property, which had by
the foreclosure of a mortgage fallen to
Mr. Faxon, was not situated in a very
rich or enterprising heighborhood,
links sang in the trees over i,
When he had walked nearly a mile he
came to a green doorsyard, among wide-
spread apple trees, with a well-sweep
among them, and a residence, though
plain, more pretentious and more come
fortable than the others,
There was a narrow and well-worn
path among the short grass and butter-
cups to the porch, where a bitter-sweel
twined its strong arms. In a corner,
under the verdure, was an armchair,
with a book on the séat, and a cane
lying across it—a gnarled, twisted stick
of hickory that Faxon looked twicq at.
The book he saw was a Bible,
There was an old lady, with a sweet
faded face, and snowy cap-strings tied
under har double chin, Knitting at a
window near by, but his quiet step had
He had put his hand to the knocker;
there
A gray
of this placid face, He stood
quite still for several minutes,
cat came and rubbed his leg,
some
against
apple-blossoms floating down,
At length the gentle lips moved,
“Father,” said the mild old lady,
rest,”’
“Such old people, and 1 have come to
take Mr.
Faxon,
There was a strong pain in
their home away,” said
his dark
the porch floor.
After a the
walked
moment he stepped off
and
When Mr. Faxon came back from his
as he crossed
old who had
A white-haired
the
open loo nd taken up
thie children. God never
tter wife and mother, And
it's hard that she should be tum
of her house in her old age,”
“Hush, Daniel 17
lady, softly. “The
$1
3 +"
and it's not long we
hush, sail the old
Oop Ww ill HON idle
i i ‘
Have to
stay in the
world,
“Will me the history «
place, Mr. Derby #*° asked Mr.
“How vou came to lose it ¥"
ght |
old
college bills,
children-—Selwyn,
Annie, Mother
education, but we 'said all
our children should
went to the distrie’
the academy-—and by and by we fitted
them off for college, Bright,
boys they were—everyboly
boys had good parts, though Roe was
always a little wild, 1 think mother
there loved him better for that, He
was more trouble, and she clung to him
closer because others blamed at times,
Annie, his sister, was always a pleadin’,
too, for Roe. He played troant, and Le
whipped the boys who told on him ; he
was always putting his bones in peril,
and twice half drowned-—yet in spite of
all he was ready for college when
Relwyn was, though Selwyn was steady
as nu clock. Mother and [ had been
sorapin’ together for years, and at last
we fitted them off.
“We went on denyin' of ourselves,
for it was just the one hope of our lives
to have the boys graduate with all the
honors ; an’ tine went on, but many of
the crops failed, and there came dis
appointment here, and disappointment
vou know,’
the
Faxon.
vou tell
said the
the
had three
little
have
was mortgaged, sir,’
to
5 111] See
man, at last,
an boys’
we
and
an’ I didn’t
LoRcoe
an
that
they
along
have : an’
school and then to
smart
said my
there,
money the for
Roc-—we mortgaged the farm for
hundred dollars,
‘‘ They
an’
boys sent
were nearly through, you see,
and Amie thought that
Selwyn might be principal of the acad-
mother
an’ Roe would be a lawyer, ‘cause
lic, and the money would be paid back
CAsY.
“Bat from time to
didn’t
time
rumors 1
at last it came like a thunder-bolt
was smspended and had run away
Well, 1
to be
foreign parts, pass over that,
sir: 1 tried not
boy, home,
Then Selwyn came
had graduated
He didn’t
and pale,
that
well, but he had a cough.
an’ ‘soon mother an’ |
the we had
hands,
an invalid upon ow
thought
We saw adl
| We
place, and
Hers
OW and Kisseq
t $03 the door, but
father
KNOW
And the next instant the
was kneeling with his head
ther's knee,
“After long vears, mother,” said he
as hestroked his temples with fond din-
‘Tam but twenty-eight years old,
FETS,
but sorrows for my early faults have
brought some gray hairs about my
head.’
* And you are not Mr. Faxon, after
all. Roe * said the father, with a puz
Five vears
American
gave me a good position, and 1 decided
to return home with him, and served
faithfully in his employ until just be-
fore his death, when, having formed an
engagement with his only daughter, he
gave his consent fo our marriage with
the proviso that I would take his name,
and carry on his interests exactly as they
had been, To this I consented, for in
spite of my settled habits and ideas, I
felt an alien and alone ; but, mother, 1
have a good wife and the best of sons—a
little fellow two years old, named Derby,
Does that please #*'
Al, indeed! What loving old woman
is not pleased with her grandchild ?
Soon the house was graced by the pres-
ence of Violet Faxon and the loving
boy, whom grandfather could not praise
enough, and grandmother ceuld not
fondle enough : yet it was sweeter, per-
haps, to Roscoe Faxon, to hear his mo-
thers voice whisper :
“1 like your wife, and, do you know,
1 think she is very much like Annie?”
THEROUND OF LIFE,
Two children down by the shining strand,
With eves as blue as the summer sea,
While the sinking sun fills all the land
With the giow of a golden nn vstery ;
Laughing aloud at the seafnew & ¢ ry,
Gazing with joy On iE snowy breast
looks from the ey sningsky,
¢
And the amber bars stroteh over the west
A soft green dell by the breez
A sailor lad and a maider
yore
Is borne ngain on the listening air
For love is young. though love |
And love alone the heart can
And the dear old tale that has been
In the days gone by, is spoken still,
trim built hom
A wife look
A prayerfor t
{nd prattling
treo
A lifted latch and a radiant face
By the open doo
A weld
From the
me hon
Agriculture.
Sago and Tapioca.
IR ¢£Vel
HORST.
od
y fet pau
3
niy corn ana
3 $1
SCreenings JOTI
} 4
buckwiieal, havseoq
y 3
A mess of soft fod In U
consisting ol
1g bran, meal, linseed or
tonseed meal and a little ground bone, is
a good substitute for meat, as these wiih
combined cont
stances ain phosphate,
nitrogen, lime and carbon-just the ma-
terial for eggs. Green food may be fur-
nished in the shape of chopped cabbage,
early rye, finely cut clover, steeped onions
boiled
and carrots and pota-
food
turnips,
toed, The secret isto change the
as often as can be conveniently done, as
there is more virtue in variety than in
quantity, Feed early in the morning and
jate at night, and when the fowls begin
to get too fat it shows that the food is
too carbonaceons, and corn should then
be omitted. When once the hens bes
gin to lay they will not then fatten too
much, as the eggs cause a heavy dewand
for food. During a resting spell, how-
ever, with heavy feeding, they soon be-
come too fat. At all times, however,
they should have enough.
Says the Sugar Beet: “Silos, if not
properly closed, will permit” main to
enter, and much harm will result, The
consequence is that, min entering, it
carries away a large amount of the
nourishing elements, ’’
In making giltedged butter the
housewife should see that the milk is
set where it will be free from all con.
taminating odors, Set in shallow open
pans, two inches deep, the room to be
at a temperature of 66° the year round,
Scab is said to have been eradicated
from New Zealand and ahinost dy
irom bv a jaw
for «
Australia
oi
id after
Hnpo=ny
Periaity EK) Very opse ol
seven months from the da
nage a
stop geiiing
and
instead
vement
mate and
Colorado ranchman bas sold 184
of cattle for $8145, averaging fear
¢ or farst yaad v "
tO Ye OPLLs pronuna FOSS
! el
He avers that the only e
they had been
weight. X=
pens to hime was the cost
and thering, avemging
the animals’
oa
$1 per head per year of
lives, They were high-grade Shorthomns,
and brought more than the ordinary
price for wild steers,
Every one interested in potatoesshould
try on a small scale new varieties, till
find something adapted to their
cultivation, ete,, and, by being a little
careful, can double their vield on any of
the old kinds with but little additional
expense, Money spent for good seed is
well invested, and will be very certain to
pay a large dividend, New England
Farmer.
A dairyman says: ** In the case of an
unusually large and well-developad
b heifer there is no objection to having
her first calf before she is 2 years old,
but when undersized or at all weakly it
is safer to let hier reach the age of 2§ or
3 years, If thrifty heifers come in at
an early age and are properly attended
to they usually make better milkers than
when they come in late,’
a
Barber-ous: “It seems to me,” said
a customer to his barber, ** that in hard
times vou ought to lower your price for
shaving.” “Can't do it,”’ replied the
barber: ‘‘nowsasdays everybody wears
such along face that we have a great
more surface to shave over.”
’