. oe ARE ALL THE CHILDREN IN? "The darkness falls, the wind in high. Dense, black clouds fill the western sky; The storm will soon begin: The thunders roar, the lightnings flash, I hear the great; round rain-drops dash— Are aif the children in? They're coming softly tomy side; “Their forms within my arms I hide— No other arms are sure! The storm may with fury wild, With trusting faith-each little chil ‘With mother feels secure. But future days are drawing near, They'll go on this warm shelter here tin the world’s wild din: “The rains will fall, the cold winds blow, 1°11 sit alone and long to know, Are all the children in? Will they have shelter then secure, ‘Where hearts are waiting strong and sure, And love is true when tried? ‘Or, will they find a broken reed When strength of heart they so much need, To help them brave the tide? God knows it all; his will is best, I'll shield them now and yield the rest In his most righteous hand; Sometimes the souls he loves are riven By tempests wild, and thus are driven Nearer the better land, 1f he should call us home before The children go, on that blessed shore Afar from care and sin, : I know that [shall watch and wait Till he. the Keeper of the gate, Lets all the children in, sists A AI Abiel Grimes was an old bachelor, Some people called him an old cur- mudgeon, and some people called him an old hunks, and these titles were really more truthful than flattering. The fact is, as the world goes—and the world goes hard enough with some —Abiel Grimes was a pretty hard man —hard and cold, selfish to the core, cruel when his interests were at stake ; apparently had no more feeling than a lamppost, no more charity than a to- ing for nothing beyond himself. going to be married. rain, she allowed another young man walked home by his side. Jransaction, and became to tatters. He did more. He left Mary Albright with a curse, and never visited her again. She wept and sobbed, and was very married the Riad young wan who had held the umbrella over her. heard Abiel Grimes laugh, In fact, it is doubtful if he could laugh. He drew into himself like a turtle into his shell, and to the world he presented an exterior as hard as that shell, He bent his whole energies to making money. And he made it. He owned houses and lands which he rented to the rich and to the poor. But woe to the Iuckless wight who came u} 810rt ou pay day. He l am d money on mortgages, but he never missed an opportunity to fore- close, showed mercy. to get his lawful due, was consistent with himself. sham, sick. cities, because the poor ought to work for their bread. In short, he gave nothing to anybody, except Abiel Grimes, And Abiel Grimes he pampered. There was nothing too good for Abiel Grimes, He bought & splendid mansion, sur- rounded himself with luxuries, and kept servants who were no better than so many slaves in his regard. His sister kept house for him, being a poor, quiet, timid, childish widow, with no other home, nor any means to live without labor. Of all days in the year, Abiel Grimes Why ? Because he could not vex people in his “because poor » idle, and seem- ingly happy, od to see-people J hi oi f0 Ral meldRicl pg BF ne could ave shit them all up in black pits and keépt them to work there all Mves for his gain: and comfort, he would have done so, 5 And of all the holidays, Abiel Grimes hated Christmas, and its rejoicing and festivities. Lo 7 And in this state of mind, without _éver having ‘4 day’s {llness—going on in worldly gain and amass a a sharp face, iron frame, cold grey eyes, thin hair and a bald head. Now it so happened that one hated Christmas night Abiel Grimes 1eturned to his elegant mansion at the hour of eleven, It was snowing fast and the streets were mostly deserted. The mansion looked grim, and dark, and cold, for there had been no rejoicing there that day, and the servants had all gone to bed. Only the poor housekeeper was sit- ting up for her brother, to keep the fire bright and his slippers warm, and his water hot for his punch, and to act as his slave and minister to his every whim. Abiel Grimes ascended the high marble steps in no pleasant frame of mind. It had been a long, disagreeable day to him, because everybody had been too happy to feel the venom of hate with which he regarded them. On the upper step he paused in as- tonishment, which soon merged into rage. Somebody had left a basket on that step—a basket with a handle to it; a basket filled with something which the fast-falling snow had already covered with a thin, pure mantle of white. “The infernal carelessness or impu- dence of some servant or beggar,’’ mut- tered Abiel \Grimes through his shut teeth, as he raised his foot and gave that basket a vigorous kick. He intended to kick it clear from his cold, hard marble step—no colder and harder®than his own marble heart—into the middle of the street. But his design miscarried. The basket struck against the iron rail, bounded back, fell over, and a small bundle rolled out. Then from the small bundle came a feeble wail, a human wail, a ery of innocence appealing to Heaven against the cruel neglect and abuse of man kind, “A living child I” tounded and somewhat horrified Abiel Grimes. ‘‘And if I've killed it there'll be the duece to pay.” Yes. Abie! Grimes, and the Lord to settle with besides. For a few moments an almost para lyzing terror had possession of this man of iron, while another pitiful wall came up to him from that living bundle st his feet, What should he do? Leave the little thing to perish, and have a murder on his conscience, and the coroner at his door ? Call a policeman and have it removed and a report reach the press in such a garbled way as to mix him up in a ridic- ulous scandal ? And then—startling thought—what ! if it had already been fearfully injured by his brutal kick ? Might it not even at that awful mo- ment be dying | It was a cold night, but great beads of perspiration came and stood out on the thin, hard face of Abiel Grimes, At that moment a rollicking party of young men turned the corner of the street. and came singing, laughing and shouting forward. In another minute they would pass his door, Heavens! they have already seen him, and what if they should hear and see the child, and find it dying from his brutality, There were courts where men were tried for murder, and Abiel Grimes did not like even to fancy himself standing in the felon's dock. Never did the trembling fingers of that man work faster than in applying the key, turning the bolt and forcing open the door of that palatial mansion. Then he siezed the child and the bas- ket, sprang into the marble vestibule, and shut the world out, just as those merry young bloods went singing, laugh- ing, shouting, reeling and rollicking past the dark frowning windows of his bachelor abode, Hastening to his own elegant sitting- room, where his sister sat waiting for him, Abiel Grimes fairly burst into the apartment, white and trembling, with the living and wailing bundle in one hand and the basket in the other. “Here, Griselda,’ cried he, as the surprised sister started up in alarm, “here's some beggar’s child that I've just stumbled over on my step, and I want you to see if I killed it.” He did not dare to say he had kicked it over even to her, The poor sister had a kind heart—she had been a wife and mother, and had lost both mother and child—and she tenderly took the poor little waif, un- rolled it, examined it, and then soothed, and kissed, aud hugged, and fondled it, till it opened its sweet little blue eyes, and fairly laughed in her face. . “Oh, you dear little darling!” she cried, completely oblivious in her ab- sorbed delight to the presence of her “Well,” he snapped out at length, 1 “is the child hurt ?** be, ¥ i “Oh, no; she does not appear to * “Ihen throw the she into the fire! exclaimed the as- he cried, with a savage stamp of his foot. . Of course he did not mean to have his sister literally obey his murderous order, but only to understand that the child must be put out of his way, and that he would have nothing more to do with it. “Oh, Abiel, brother, let me keep it, and rear it, and call it mine,” pleaded the lone-hearted sister. ‘‘I want some- thing to love in my declining years, Let me have this. See, dear Abiel, how sweet the darling looks, and how it smiles even now upon you.” And the little baby did at that mo- ment chance to throw out its little hands toward the iron man, and did seem to smile at him, just as babies have before now been known to smile upon their murderers, “Bah !’ grunted Abiel Grimes, a8 he turned away. But he did not escape scathless, A beam from that baby’s eyes had darted into his, and that beam had car- ried a ray of God's sunshine from that pure innocent soul right down into his, warming one tiny little spot, and ex- citing one of the strongest sensations of his life, Abiel hurried off to bed, without putting on his slippers or making his punch, leaving his sister Griselda alone with the child. She found and prepared some milk for it, and secretly avewed it should never leave her. That night Abiel Grimes dreamed that little blue baby eyes were looking at him ; and he got up and hurried off the next morping, as if to escape from the little one and himself. As he made no further protest his sister kept the child in the mansion, but out of his sight, and told the ser- vants it was an unexpected Christmas present, which she prized more highly than gold. One day, seven or eight mouths later, Abiel came unexpectedly into his own sitting-room, and found the bright aud playful little one tied in a chair, mering its little chubby cushion before it, in the unknown ham- fists on the and talking to itself in front of it; here dame 7’ “Ja! ja! go, goo!” answered baby, both hands and feet fly up and down as if attached to springs. Again something shot from that pure little soul into the dark hard soul of Abiel Grimes, “Confound it,” he muttered, lieve you're a witch I" “Jalija!l goo! goo! ja-goo!”’ baby, all full of springs, “you yet, ma- “I be. laughed was softly pressed against bis lips. “I amglad [ didn't kill you: said. At that mowent hurrying into with fright and astonishment on seeing her brother Arms, his sister came the present and baby in his the little one in ber arms, “Oh, Abiel, she is in nn angel sent from heaven for the comfort of us both !*? cried Griselda with a warming enthusiasm. The brother did not answer, and the sister felt happy that he did not storm and rave, The secret work of heaven had be- gun, From that time forward there was a change in Abriel Grimes, The iron began to melt, the stone began to soften, the soul began to humanize, and people who had known Abiel Grimes for years began to won der. Oneday a poor man came to plead for a little more time in which to pay his rent, “My little girl’s very sick,” he said in a voice of distress, with tearful eyes, ‘and I've been obliged to lose time, and take the money which I'd saved for you to buy medicine with for her™’ “You owe me a month's rent !’’ said Abiel, taking up his pen and beginning to write, “And if you give me time —'’ “You will never pay me!" inter- rupted Abiel, at the same time hand- ing the poor fellow a receipt in full for the amount, and a five pound note. “Take that, and go home and nurse your darling ; and, if not enough for your distress, come back again !”’ “God bless you I" cried the poor man, bursting into tears, “He has already !”’ mumured Abiel to himself, ‘‘He did it one Christ. mas night, when He sent me a little angel.” I come to tell you that my husband is dead, and that I cannot, at present, satisfy the mortgage you hold,” said a weeping widow to him at another time, “Take the mortgage itself down to the recorder of deeds, madam, and let reply of the once hard-hearted man, as | he handed the document, together with an order for satisfaction, to his aston- ished visitor, Like to the pent-up waters of a | stream when the obstructions give way, so flowed forth the charities of Abiel Grimes, and all who knew him marveled and said, “Behold a miracle |” Years rolled on, and a thousand places felt the secret influence of that baby darling who had come so myster- jously on that cold Christmas night to the then hard, cheerless home of Abiel Grimes, As his heart softened under her genial smiles, the now humanized bachelor had her named Mary Albright, in memory of his first and only love, whom he fancied she resembled, And as she grew in years, the once gloomy mansion was made cheerful for her sake, and every Christmas there became a happy day of rejoicing. Ten years had passed, and the thin hair of Abiel Grimes was becoming fleck- ed with silver; but his face looked fresher, and his heart felt younger, and his soul waa far happier, [nto his presence one a lady in black, deeply veiled, and, to his utter amazement, related the incident of finding a baby on his steps, “I put that baby there,’’ she went on. “It was not my child, but mydaughter’s child. I married, and my husband died. leaving me a daughter. She married, and her husband died leaving her a daugh- ter. Tnen she died, and the child fell to me. i was poor and you were rich, and I hoped to interest you in the little link. I did not desert the child, nor put it there by chance, for 1 knew you were coming home, and I watched from my hiding day came 1" place till you took the little blessing in. “Unknown to you I have had an eye on it ever since. You have cared for Abiel Grimes, and I that in turn it has cared for your soul You have called it Mary Albright, Why? Well, the name is answer enough. You have seen a resemblance it tenderly, fee] to one you once knew, and once loved, {but to whom you did a grievous wrong !"' “I did !"” burst from the white lips of Abiel Grimes, “She forgave you then-—forgives you still — and has come to say that you can have her grandchild for your own,” ° “Oh, give me herself also,” cried Abiel Grimes with powerful emotion, as he seized the lady’s hand and drew aside { the veil from the calm sweet face of his | old love, Mary Albright. Need we go on with the sequel ? They married the | Christmas, and have ever been counted among the happiest of mortals, And now, instead of curses, Abiel | Grimes heaps blessings on every Christ. next since were on { mas, and all the poor around heap biess- | ings on Abiel Grimes, and on his sweet | wife, and his good sister, and his darling | pet, and on all that belongs to him and | them. - WORDS COMMONLY MISPRO- NOUNCED. Facet (A little face, as of a diamond, ete. J—fiis «set, not fa-set’, Falchion-fawl’-shun, not fil -chi-on. Falcon--faw’-kn, not fal -kon, Far, as spelled, net fur, Febrile--fé'-bril, or féb'ril, not fe. brile, February, as spelled, not Febuary. Fetid--Fiv'-id, not fé'-tid, Fetor-fé'-tor, not fét'-or. Finale--fé-pid’'-Ji, not fi'-nile, nor fi- nil'-le, Finance--{i-nfins’, not fi-pins, Financier--fin-an-seer’, not fi-nan- soer. Financially--the first syllable should b: short, the second accented. Finis {fi-nis, not fin'-is. Flannel-—not flannen. Florid--fior-id, not forid. Florist-f16 rist, not fior'-ist, Forage—-for'-age, not {6'-rage. Forehead —for-¢d, not for’-héd., Foreign {or'-in, not fur'-in. Fortnight—fort'-nite, not fort -nite, Fortress for tress, not for'-tress, Fragile—{friij’il, not fri'-jile, Frontier-front’-eer, not frunt -eer, nor frun’-teer. Fuchsia--fook-si-a, not fu'-shia, Rusner Cars.—-One objection to the ingrain carpet is that the high heels which servants delight in wearing on thick shoes seem to catch at the threads and drag them out of place, producing a rough surface ; another is that the legs of heavy chairs have the same effect. One way of saving these carpets is to cover the ends of the chair legs with rubber caps at a cost of about seventeen cents. The servants’ heels are, of course, amenable to no such remedy, A A Mackinaw straw sailor hats, with low crowns and stiff brims, will be much worn by gentlemen in midsummer, About Women. A bachelor editor, referring to the unhappy man who has had a bad wife, says that she is shackless on his feet, a palsy to his hands, a burden on his shoulders, smoke to his eyes, vinegar to his teeth, a thorn to his side, a dagger to his heart, It is said of Benjamin P, Cheney, a Boston millionaire, that he waited many years for a beautiful widow to marry him, which she had agreed to do when she had raised her daughter. The waiting becoming too deliberate he marrie the daughter, who loved him without condi- tions, and she made him a noble wife. Women's Work.—Of late years the employment of women as clerks has greatly increased, not only in England, but in France as well, and in both countries it is generally agreed that the system upon the whole works very satisfactorily, At the bank of France there are now no fewer than 160 female clerks, who receive three francs to com- mence with, and whose annual salary, after a year or two's service, rises to 1800 francs ; and at the Paris offices of the Credit Foucier, where there is a large staff of women, the remuneration, beginning en a small scale, rises in some cases to as much as 4000f., or $800 a year. In both establishments the hours of attendance are from 9 to 4 on six days of the week ; and the male and female clerks in different rooms the women being superintended by officers of their own sex, and thus en- joying the greatest possible privacy. A Turkish gentleman who has just arrived in New York, and who is the son of N. de Castro Bey, private coun- sel to the sultan, tells a reporter of the Journal some interesting things about the harem of the son of the sun. The first question asked by the reporter was suggested by a habit which is by no means confined to American ladies, but is universal throughout the feminine world, He wanted know if the ladies of the harem flirted, to Mr. de Castro replied : **No, they can’t. to would like “Why “Their religion compels them to.” can’t they?” If they happen to be met without a skirts and throw it over their heads.” “Where does Sultan obtain wives ?"' From Circassia and a certain part of Asia. The countries are noted for the beauty of their women, and the Sultan has emissaries stationed there to make selections and importations, The governments of these countries often send pretty young women to the Sultan to obtain his good will and favor.” ‘*Are the women blondes or brunettes ?*° ‘‘Brunettes.”’ *‘Do they ever bleach their hair?” ‘Oh, yes Blondes are so scarce that they are in the paint for turning their hair yellow.” “What is the color of their eyes?” “Black as jet and as bright as dia- monds.’’ ‘Are they petite or large 7” “Small of stature, but When they are young they are the handsomest world, but they don’t last a greai while.” “They fade, do they?’ “Yes, Their really women in the do they do ?"’ der bright canopies and smoke cigar- ettes and drink strong coffee.” How do they dress ¥’ “Very temptingly in loose, bright garments, in Turkish styie, but are adopting European fashions as much as possible. The Sultan has often issued decrees against the adoption of European tastes, but the women don’t care about the dress nowadays, and when on the street many of them wear high French heels and bustles. They always wear white muslin veils, how- eter, which add much to the seductive- ness of their general appearance.’ “How do the ladies wear their finger- nails ¥'' “They bleach them red, and have them cut short. The nails are short, I suppose, because they are afraid their tempers might get the better of them,’ and Mr, de Castro stroked his moustache and laughed heartily. mat lr WCE Worth's Costumes and His Customers, Mrs. Emma King, an English dress reformer, in a recent speech waxed in- dignant at Mr, Worth and uttered the wild wish that he might be drowned in the Seine, and she summed up the greater part of her sex as a pack of in- curable dress- maniacs. Whoa, Emma ! You de not know Mr. Worth. During amost charming conversation with him on the subject of feminine dress, he gave the information that he approves most decidedly of dress reform. He advocates the Persian costume for women, and would like to invent a sensible dress for them if they would wear it after it was made. But they will not, He tried the plan once and it dismally failed. The convenient, pretty is net responsible for the follies and tastes of the women whose demands he ' he can with his customers, and he would not have any if he attempted to wholly carry out his ideas on dress, which are more sensible than any we have heard from the lips of any man or woman. He is only too delighted when he finds a woman who wishes her dress adapted to her style of face, form and occupation, and he can tell at a glance what its make and color should be. He takes more interest in adapting one dress to a woman who understands this secret of good dress- ing than he does in dozens of the showy kind that are ordered for inappropriate places, Although where a costly and gorgeous dress is not out of place, no one ean rival Worth in producing either bizarre, outre or tasteful effects. He is the Shakespeare of dress. He can do every- thing with it, as Shakespeare could with language. And he knows a wealthy titled lady of Paris whose taste and inspiration would be his only rivals if she were obliged to use them as her own pecuniary bepefit. He obtains many of his effects from nature—more especially in the matter of blending the shades, as seen in the plumage of a bird, the petal of ua flower or the tints of sun- set clouds, Nature never brings strik- ing contrasts closely together, although she may appear to do so at the first sight of her varied hues. Each one leads up to or recedes from the other in gradual ly deepening tints until the climax of color is reached ; and Worth, who isa keen observer, invariable uses the hints he catches in this way. It is a pity that women as a rule will not support him to a still greater extent than they do, and allow him to use his inventive ge- nius in creating a healthful, sensible, but pretty dress for them to wear. He would answer for its being a grace- ful one. If Mrs, King and other radi- | cal dress reformers did but know it, Worth could and would benefit women more than any man on the face of the earth. | A Dude in the Wild, Wild West. The car was full, and I pre-empted a | seat on the rear platform. Inside were | miners bound for Carbonate, a drum- { mer, one lady and a something that we | all decided was a dude. Once ina while | the traip would be lost amid coney | pines, and then through a gap in the trees would be caught an Eden-like glimpse of the disappearing park. There were innumerable shades of green beside the track; the brilliancy of grass, and the almost black of the forest. Even the dude showed an in- terest. *“* No paintah, aw, could do this thing, ye know, aw.” The lan- guage of the dude was not particularly flop, but his head was level, However, he got knocked completely out of time { further on. The train stopped at a neat co tage painted brown. In the door was a rosy-cheeked maiden, leaning.in | unconscious grace upon her broom, | ““ Aw, me gurhl, don’t ye get lonesome, i | ye know, aw, way up heah ¥' he ven- | tured, with a smile that trespassed on | the back of his neck. The girl seemed | astonished for a moment, and then. "looking over her shoulder, called : | ws Pap | pap! the dime museum menkey is loose! Kill it, and get its clothes.” | The dude seemed to shrink, and noth- | ing could induce him to open his mouth from that poine to the journey’s end. The Raising of Snails. Spail raising might be practised in this country, but it would scarcely be profitable in a land in which frog's legs are only just coming inte use, while other things regarded as tidbits in France are left uneaten. In Burgundy, where the business is carried on to perfection, the following system is in use: The snails are collected from vines toward the end of summer, and are then placed in inclosures dignified by the name of “parks.” to fatten on thyme, peppermint and other herbs which experience has proved to be most suitable. A damp and shady nook is seleceed for the “park,” and the prisoners are kept within bounds by the simple contrivance of sawdust and brambles. This does very well in fine weather ; but when it rains the farmer's wife and children must be constantly on the alert to twrm back the runaways. The fattening process goes on until the approach of winter when tufts of moss and bundles of dry leavesare thrown into the park. Into these the snails creep, and then, to increase their comfort, proceed to seal themselves up in their shells. 1n the case of Burgun- dy snails, the sealing substance exuded forms a thick chlcareous crust. When the creatures have completed their prime condition for the table. Time full grown ones are then used as they Jhes bain eft to swell the next year's ———————— A ———————— undertakes to supply, He does the best
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