WORTH WHILE, Can the flower Jook sunward pnd lovelier grow ¥ ay Comes not more than mere color with life's overflow 2 Come not sweetest of odors to float through the breeze? With the long days “of summer amid’ the green trees? Can the river forget the spring in the helght Where mem’ry gleams, mountain-like,glis- tening and white? . Does not infancy fasten its touch on the boy 1s not man more a man for the earlier joy ? Oh ! flowers that look upward, oh ! rivers and trees, Ye mountains in distance, what messages these ? All tell the old story, the story of life, Sometimes a carnival, sometimes a strife; But out of the fighting as out of the earth, The buds of rejoicing and victory have birth. Is not sleep the sweeter that soothes weary eyes? Are not stars the brighter that shine from dark skies? Ce Is not living best lived that most of life is Is not life most of life that is nearest to Hig Nearest His whose life is the truest of all? The life that is light with no darkness at ¥ Nearest His whose life is the light and the way, pa nile. alway.” doue is thiv—“0 am wiih Whe you of who slumber awhile, irs for above stile, Ye are singing a song, the song of the soul That, fet*ered so off, yet speeds towards its goal, Man's spirit immortal gaios highest of skies Whose wings most are tried cre upwards Oh! the weary Mite i Oh lst us that sparkle and he lies. AE SIRT “A WOMAN'SLOYVE." “1 can’t imagine, Estelle, how you came to be so decidedly plain; beauty is rather a characteristic of our family.” [Tere Mare Darcy glanced with a satis- fied air at lds handsome face reflected in an opposite mirror, while a slight flush arose tothe dark, almost swarthy, cheek of the young girl seated vis-a-vis to hmm, and the delicately shaped hands trembled slightly as they sought to continue the work they were occu- pied with. ss] believe vou favor your father?" contmued the gentleman, J “Yes, Lam like my father. He was not handsome, but so noble, so good. Iwas so proud of lum, Inpever thought about his looks. 1 am sorry, more for your sake than mine, that 1 am not beautiful. Your wife should be, but Marc——" with a quick, impulsive motion, the young girl bent down be- side her betrothed and laid her dips ca- ressingly to his hand, adding: “Fou will not love me the less? You who are so handsome, who could have chosen from so many, yet asked me to be your wife. You are all the world to me, Marc. No one could love you more than 1.” With rather an uneasy laugh, Mac Darcy, placing his arm about his com- panion, replied: “Tears. Estelle? Why, what kas come over yeu? It just happened to strike me that it was rather strange vou were not as beautiful as the rest of the women in our family, but thea you have some redeeming points. Pretty eyes and good teeth—no small item toward good looks, I can assure yeu, wy dear.” A pleased cok crossed Estelle’s face at the last words of her intended, and twining both arms about his neck «he said: “* And you don’t mind it 50 very much if I am plain? You will always love me?” “+f course 1 shall,” came the reply, as Mare kissed her lightly on the fore- head, adding, half laughingly: “Perhaps, Estelle, 1 shall put yeur love to the test some day. Will it {ail ;me, I wonder?” Raising her head from its resting place upon Marc’s shoulder, Estelle’s eyes sought his. There was a strange intensity «dn their dark depths and she answeged slowly, as if weighing each word: “1. do not think you quite understaad me, or my love for you, Mare. It is as the breath of my life; vet if ever came to believe that it was for your happicess for me to give you up, { would do so at any cost to myself.” Before Mare could reply, Estelle had passed quickly from the room. . selecterla cigarette from a handsomely- embroidered case, thinking; **What a strange girl Estelle is, She is right. 1 don’t kelieve I do under- stand her, poor little thing, how earn- est she js. I should not have spoken about her plainness; but there it is, thete is ne denying t. However, as she is to be say wife, [ suppose I shall Jave to make the best.of it. I'll buy Jer the handsomest bragelet 1 can find far a pease-affering.’”’ Mare Darcy was an only son, Hand- some as ahi Adonis, with @ fascinating mawner, which, svken he chose to exer- cise it, few could resist, Mrs. Darcy had Been left a widow with consider- able property, but her son’sextravagant drains npon ber purse had greatly re- duced ker income, Maze was not by aw weans a bad fellow, hut simply se ind ulgent toward himself, Estelle Merten was the daughter of 3 comsin of Mrs, Jarcy’s, On the death of her father, which oceurzed about Sighteen pniha before my 0 Estel taken a at Kenn the home of Mrs, Darcy. Aunt t, as Estelle always called her, was her only velati ons woman, although minded, with but dne engrossing idea— S01. : Estelle had been an inmate of Mrs, home only a few weeks before t to the widow, how woul if Marc and Hstelle ps jo pressing poser! ea Toy off out o une she was an As Estelle’s hus. band, Marc's future would be for, and when ber tune came #he would boy. Estelle was a passionate admirer’ of beauty, and, almost ere she was con- scious of it, she loved Mare with her whole soul, and Mare at his mother’s instigations had carelessly drifted into the situation of Estelle’s lover. Of too noblé a nature to see aught but the good in others, Estelie never dreamed that it might be her money, and not herself, that had induced Marc to choose her for his wife, Some few weeks after the opening of our story found Mrs. Darcy and Estelle seated at breakfast, Marc had run up to town for a day or two, As Estelle returned a letter she had just been reading to its envelope, Mrs. Darcy remarked ; From your triend, is it not, dear?” Does she say when we may expect her?’ “ Yes, she writes we may look for her to-morrow, by the 2:40 train, Oh! aunt ! think how sad it is for her, left alone so young ; only 17, and obliged to earp her own living, I am so glad you are willing I should ask her here for a few weeks, She is sobright and pretty, I cannot imagine Inez being sorrowful. me—it was only my money,’’ seemed to stab itself into her heart, Fighting with her despair, the strick- en woman cried out, unselfish even in her agony: “Mare! Mare! my husband! make you happy if'1 could!” They were nearing their journey’s end, and Mare had perceived no differ- ence in his wife. His thoughts were elsewhere. Had they nof been he would have seen how pale and thin she had grown, and that never of her own accorfl did ber lips caress him, Then came the night when they were startled from their sleep by the cry of danger, ‘ Women shrieked and clapsed their little ones to their breasts, while men, white to the lips, hurried on deck to be driven back by the wild flerceness of the storig. Waves like gigantic moun- tains hurled themselves against the ship, under which she staggersd and reeled and righted herself again, only to be struck down anew. : Valiantly the good boat fought her fight against the deep. Mast after mast was torn away, till she lay bare, trembling hike a wounded human, at the mercy of the angry waters, She I would We will try and make it very pleasant for her, won't we, aunt?” “Of course, my dear,” answered Mrs, Darcy. -* I always wish to make my guests happy and comfortable,” and thus the subject was dismissed for then. The following week Marc arrived one afternoon at home. In his care- less manner, he had omitted to send word of his return; consequently Murs, Darcy and Estelle were out, returning calls. Learning this from one of the serv- ants, Marc made his way to the west drawing-room, the coziest room in the house, Opening the door, he stood transfixed upon its threshold, A young girl was reclining, fast asleep, on the One dimpled arm, bare to the elbow, while one tiny hand rested under the baby chin. Soft, floss-like hair curled in golden rings about the white fore- head and fair neck. With an exclamation of surprise, Mare turned to go; at which a pair of bewildered blue eves opened and gazed had sprung a leak. All night the men | worked at the pumps, cheered by their { brave captain, who told them they must { be close to the Dover cliffs, and they might yet all reach the shore in safety. Inez clung trembling to Mare, while Estelle, calm and collected, moved about amongst the women, helping with a ready hand. Little children grew quiet at her touch, and wmathers ceased to bewail their fale, Mare never forgot the pale graudeur of his wife's face as she passed to and fro amongst all the confusion Towards dawn the storm abated somewhat, but a dense fog enveloped them like a shroud, { At last the order was given to man lifeboats, Sobbing women and frightened children were quickly lifted over the ship's side; while warm-hearted sailors bade them cheer up, for land wis close at hand, As they lowered the last boat Es- telle, laying her nand upon her hus- band’s sim, sald: “Marc, if anything sboulll happen Wo i the questioningly at him. Then hastily springing from her recumbent position, the young girl stood blushing before him. As Marc made his apologies, she terrupled with : “Oh! I know. You are the gentle- man Estelle is engaged to; then I don’t mind. It’s pot so bad as if you had been astranger. How you scared me,’ Here one little dimple, then another, crept forth, till a merry peal of laugh- ter rippled through the room, in which Mure joined. When Mrs, Darey and Estelle turned they found Inez, for it was she, and Mare chatting away like old friends, In spite of Inez’s recent loss, which dated only two months back, her child- ish, mirth-loving nature could take no hold of sorrow. Her tears were like April showers, quickly over. ii having spent most of her life at board- ing-echool. Mr. Cline had been a self ish, pleasure-loving man, who took but hittie thought of his motherless child; lived close up to his iocome, leaving Inez penniless at Lis death, she owed to Estelle’s generosity. The weeks slipped by, and still Inez remained a guest at Sunnyside, At first she talked a good deal of going out asgoverness, but later on she ceased to do so. Somehow Estelle and Mare were very seldom alone these days. Inez, with her pretty, helpless ways, contrived to monopolize a great deal of Marc's time, Yet Estelle was pleased that it should be so. In her noble heart there was no room for jealousy. No thought that Inez, with her saucy, kittenish ways, might win her lover from her. Her faith and trust in Mare were perfect. The wedding day drew nigh. Inez was to be bridesmaid, and then Es- telle with her warm impulsive nature had proposed that she should accom- pary them to Europe on their bridal tour, and Inez had clapped her hands like a cehild, exclaiming: “Oh, if I only could! How I should like it!” Mrs, Darcy, wisor than the rest, perhaps, had judged it best for Inez to remain with her; but Inez had pouted and come as near showing temper as such a weak little creature could, and had gained her way. It was decided that she should company the bridal pair, Marc and Estelle were man and wife, and the steamer was bearing them on teward England's shores. Inez, too sick to move and wishing herself Lack on land, was in her state-room, with ever thoughtful Estelle tending and petting her, rewarding ber busband with a fond smile whenever he came to inquire after the sick girl, How good of him, Estelle thought, when he so disliked the sight of sickness or anything unpleasant, It wie Mare who carried Inez on deck aud arranged the ruge and pil lows, bearing with her whisas when Estelle grew almost indignant at her friend's peevishness toward her hus- band. . One evening Estelle, suffering from a severe headache, retired early to her state-room, but finding the air below very close she seturned to the deck. Seeking ber husband and Inez she drew near the wheel-house, Suddenly she paused and stood still as if turned to stone. In the shadow of the wheel. house were her husband and Inez Inez’s golden head lay apes his breast, aud there was a fond ring to Mares tones that Estelle had never heard be- fore as he uttered these words: “For God's sake stop y little one! You will drive me . You know that 1 love you as 1 never loved Estelle, but I was forced to marry her, If I bad been rich then I could have ygolt, but as it was it would ing AC» Jlennd folly.” Noe ay the ps of the woman whose heart had been crushed by these words of her husband, onl us she blindly groped her way back x me, I want you to believe thal my | greatest wish was for your happiness. | You once said that perhaps some day { you would put my love to the test, | You wondered if it would fal you. { It shall not fail you. Mare, my hus- ! band, kiss me just once as—as if you | loved me. ”’ | “Estelle! my wile, I and Mare {clasped his wife to heart with | something of the love that should have | been hers from the first, For a mo- i ment she clung to him; then gently | withdrawing herself from his arms, she sald: | “See, Inez is faint. her, 1 am strong—now, { myself.” | The little crowd pressed eagerly for- | ward, and were rapidly lowered to their i places, The captain was the last to {quit the ship. Wich fast - look to see that none were left he | drew his hand quickly across his eyes odash away the tears that would come t the thought of the fate of the good | ship that had carried him in safety for | many a year. Then, dropping into the | boat, he gave the word to pull off. In the darkness and hurry none bad | missed the gentle woman who had come i forted them all in their boar of need. | Estelle’s husband, to do him justice, | believed hex safe in the boat with them | all; but, instead, she stood alone upon the deck of the now ‘ast sinking ship, her eyes trying to pierce the darkness that hid the man she loved better than her life forever from her sight. Alone! no, not quite. Something touched her hand. It was Carlo, ber hushand’s great Newfoundland dog. Patting him, she pointed to the water and bade him go; but be only whined and licked her hand. Then Estelle kpelt down upon the deck and with her head resting upon her faithfal friend's shagey coat awaited her fate. Almost at the same moment as the last life-boat was drawn up on the beach by eager, willing bands, the great ship, with one heavy toss, went dowa into the mighty deep, and Mare Darcy learned too late the value of a true woman's love. I TOC OR his Take care « I cansee tl of ane Con tesy at Home, i written or spoken. ‘['bere is an Orien- tal iegend of a poor Arab, who on going through the desert, met with a spark]. ing spring. Accustomed to brackish water, a draught from this sweet well in the wilderness seemed, in his simple mind, a fit present to the Caliph, So he filled the leathern bottle, and, after a weary tramp, laid his gift at his sovereign's feet, The monarch called for a cup and drank freely, and then with a smile, thanked the Arab, and presented lnm with a magnificent reward. The courtiers pressed eagerly around for adraught of the wonderful water which was regarded as worth such a princely acknowledment To their surprise, the Caliph forbade them go touch a drop, Then, after the simple<hearted giver left the roval presence, with a new spring of joy welling up in his heart, the monarch explained his motive of prohibition, “During the long journey the water in his leathern bottle had become impure and distasteful; but it was an offeri of love, and as such I accepted it wi pleasure, I feared, liowever, that if I allowed another to taste it he would not conceal his disgust. Therefore it was that 1 forbade you to partake, lest the heart of the poor man would be wounded.” W or. not our courtesy would equal tnat of the Arab we all instinctively applaud so noble an instance of courtesy. “I DONT care, the cabin the thought, “He never loved flouse Purnshin®. A lady of limited nieans, but of rare taste, whose touch molded almost every- thing into something beautiful, and whose success in all practical matters pertaining to everyday home life made er an oracle to the young and inex. perienced, recently sald: ‘I have never coveted any lady's jewels, silks and laces, or even her position in ‘society; but I am afraid I have sadly broken the Tenth commandment when I have seen the beautiful, well-ordered homes of my frienas, where every department seemed complete and filled with all that could be desired for health, comfort and beauty,” There are thousands of la- dies with the same longings, and who, if they have an extra five dollars, would much rather spend it for home decora~ tion than on dress for themselves, It is possible with limited income to make a very modest home more at- tractive than a much richer one, and its influence on the family, especially upon children, cannot be estimated. Such a home does more to form the character for good than the teachings or discipline of parents, We would like occasionally to help those trying to make pleasant, cheery homes, who have not the means to employ a professional decorator, but whose own heads and hands must design and do all, For their comforts we would say: A home where the furnishing of each room has been thought olt, and perhaps worked out by mother and daughters, has a value to father and sons far beyond one committed to some stranger to ‘‘fur- nish throughout as stylish as possible,” at any cost, Its influence does not cease when it is broken up, but reaches down through generations in other homes, Harmony of color is of the first im- portance in furnishing. Not that car- pet, walls, curtains, chairs, ete,, should be of the same color; that would make a room cold and uninviting. There should be two or three colors in a room but these should barmouize., If one is conscious that she has no eye for color, she should consult some one of known taste before purchasing articles which, although by themselves might be desir- able, would perhaps if placed with others spoil the effect of the whole, and be a disappointment to be endured for years, A carpet, for instance, should not be purchased without con- sidering what the color of the pant is; Land of the sofge and chairs, if they upholstered. A carpet is like background of a picture; it brings effect the whole. Styles for earpets have entirely changed within a few years, Patterns of huge bouquets of impossible flowers used to be seen almost everywhere; now a very small, set figure, so small as-w look almost like a plain color at a little distance, is in much better taste. This may be enlivened by a border of bright The lovely pearl and gray grounds, with vines or tracery of a darker shade, and bright borders of Perstan patterns are very desirable and look well with almost evervthing, The fashion of staining floors black-walnut color for a yard or more around the walls, and having a square of bordered carpet in the center, is gaining ground and much liked for the pretty style and the convenience of taking it up for cleaning. There are now plain, ingrain carpetings, in solid colors, called *“'&l- which are used around these rugs, instead of staining the floor. We have seen parlors carpeted with dark, turqueise-biue filing, with Persian rugs over them, not in any set or regular order, The effect was very good, Curtains are a very important part of furnishing, Of course there must be shades. There ought to be doapery, however simple; no one thing adds more to the pleasant cheery look of a room. Shades are now rarely white, but tinted, either gray, cream or old gold color, They should never be of a very deep shade, Many use red for the dintog-room, but that color is better suited to rome public place. A fringe about two and one-half inches wide fin- ishes the bottom. For drapery there are many beautiful and artistic pat- terns in Nottingham lace, which is low-priced and durable. They may be selected to look so like real lace that they can hardly be distipguished from it. The xellowish tint should be chosen and in light patterns. Linen scrim with inserting and edging of guipure lace, is always handsome, Simple cheese cloth, piain or figured muslin, or cretonne, are all pretty. Heavy fabrics should be used only in large and richly furnished rooms, They may be used with good effect for portieres, to hide or replace a door, or {o separale rooms, Heavy lambrequing are pot in style, Curtains are hung with rings on poles of bLirass or wood, and the lambrequin, if any, is straight across, marrow or broad, embroidered or trimmed with fringe, or it may be a simple plaiting. Mantel lambrequins are a plain scarf across the front, with decorated ends hanging low. There is often, as a background for ornaments above the mantel, a curtain, plain or plated, of the material of the Iambrequin, about haif a yard wide, hung upon a rod with rings. This may be of velvet paper, beaded by a narrow gilt molding. Halls are rio longer the barren entrances to the home, but are a part of it, OW and quaint chairs look well here, and if tere 18 a window, a drapery curtain with a large plant on a small stand is very pretty. An ornamental umbrella stand is often seen in halls, instead of the old heavy marble top stand, Ems I OS i = are th 0 nwo colors, ling, center The Woman -Hasband. A correspondent at Waupun, got a carriage recently and started om a search for Frank Dubois and Gertie Fuller, finding them after much trouble at the Bristow farm-house, Repeated knocks brought Mr, Bristow to the door, who admitted the correspondent into the sitting-rootm, couple were gtified that company was awaiting weir appearance below, but they re. Tne i I ran A ny hit to bear, however, w resulted in thelr yice, Dubois a y © person. 4 feet, 11 inches ln height, weishs about 100 pounds, ad hag » bigs, a fuil ehiest, short mms and very small and slender hands aud feet, known as Mrs, Dubois Gertie Fuller— is apparently about 17 years oid, about Dubois’ height, and is rather a pretty blonde, with dark hair. She was in tears and appeared greatly distressed when the question of her husband’s sex was mentioned. Dubois was uneasy and cast nervous glances toward the door, and the small hands were worked and twisted in apparent mental agony. Her features, small and delicate, and her face, smooth and beardless, ap- seared to be those of a lad of 19 years, Wrinkies under the eyes, teeth badly or two gray hairs suggested the possibility that she might be a woman of 40 years, Dubois stoutly persisted that she was a man, “Oh, Frank, for God’s sake, tell all and have it over at this moment!” ex- claimed the young and pretty wife, tears streaming down her face. decayed, and one bling lip, and in a moment bugst into tears. **It is true,” she said at last and then endeavored to leave the room, but she was finally induced to tell her story. She said she was really Mrs. Hudson, and had tired of her husband and fam- ily, and determined to lose all identity guise of nan, “My husband,’’ said Lhe {female hus- baud, “went to Illinois last spring. I jramediately assumed male attire and went to Wanpun, where | had pre- viously met and admired Gertie Fuller. 1 courted her, and we were married— she not knowing me to be a wolnal until the night after the ceremony was performed, I then induced herto keep silent. wlich she has While living with my husband, I helped him support the family—peddiing soaps and compounding extracts, which I disposed of. I was thus led {o depend 1 self, and when 1 took ! ders the support of Gertie, 1 felt fully able to carry the burden. 1 pupered painted, and made and sold exty and we were happy. ing to move to Elgin, lilinois, when my Lusband came upon the scene. After he came to the house, 1 concealed myself for the tire itl done, ana taen train for Brandon, Gertie remaining at the house of a friend, and following on ‘Tuesday to Brandon, where we stopped at the house of an acquaintance, coming here on Tuesday evening. 1 will return to live with Hudson, and jwopose to wear pants, and sinoke, and earn my living as a man.”’ Mrs. Dubois, or, Gertie Fuller, appeared broken, sobbing continuously during the recital of the story. She, however, confirmed the statement. She said hex parent resided in Waupun, where her father and brother were engaged in the nursery business, Sne had married Frank Dubois, or Mrs, Hudson, and had on the night their i discovered that her husband own sex. They had agreed fo live 1 gether and had done so, It was an affair of their own and nobody was con- cerned but themselves, They proposed to go to Fou du lac arrange to move to Hllinois as was intended, the sensational story was the parties were both wi Notwithstanding the apparent frank- more propery, ot 1 naen, parties, there is evidently something connected which they will public except when eompelled to do so by the strong arm of the law. Hudson as the husband, wields a pow- erful influence over the young girl, who is wedded, out not a wife--au i#uence far more powertul than would be pos- sible for one woman to wield seat LEH together than those existing belween the Hudson woman and Gertrude Faller The couple expressed a determination to go to Fon du Lac immediately. —— The Vigaro, The Figaro, of Paris, is a mighty power on the continent ot Europe, Its earlier years were years of struggle and poverly, but its profits last year were over $500,000, No journalhssa bolder, more talented editorial staff, and no pa- per is mote widely quoted, praised and blamed. M. De Villemessant, a born journalist, was the founder of the Figa- ro. For along time he was editor-in- chief, head reporter and business mana ger of his journal. When he died this work was parceled out among three men, Magnard, Perivier and Rodays. To these three men De Villemessant said on his dying bed: ‘Always make up the paper as though you knew I was going to read it the next morning.” The placing of this triumvirate at the head of the Figaro was a wise selection. Magnard originated the piquant epitome headed *‘Paris from Day to Day”—a column made up of many articles con- densed from the newspapers of the pre. ceding day. Each paragraph is short, terse and to the point—the quintessence of common sense and condensation, Magnard’s leaders are signed “F, M.» and never exceed forty lines of lo primer. This phenomenal Rall a man the size and build of General Grant, and is apparently about 44 years of age. He is highly educated, a severe judge of “copy,” and is withal a pleasant gentleman, The staff of edi- torial writers is quite numerous. One of the writers, M. Wolff, earnsas much as $15,000 4 year. He is the dramatic eritie. On this journal reporters receive from six to twenty cents a line. The editorial rooms are fitted up with every luxury and convenience, embracing fencing rooms, card tables, ete. An American would not consider the Figa- ro oa great newspaper, but it certainly displays more enterprise in the collection ot hei than any ht Journal io Pu 'y goes everywh rea with as much pleasure on our coast, in South America, and the of Good H in short, all over sivitined , 88 it Is in the Parisian i vOOD FOR THOUGHT, | Good manners are made up of petty | sacrifices, Energy well directed the mark, Man must become wise by his own experience, Bix days of labor makes the seventh comfortable, What a rich man uses and gives con. stitutes his wealth, A man’s wisdom is his best friend, folly his worst enemy. If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, He that doeth nothing, hath little time for anything else, Have a place for everyihing, everything in its place. Heaven will be the sweet surprise of a perfect explanation. He that maketh haste to be i shall not be innocent, We often do more good by our sy mp- athy than by our labors. Eccentricity is often used as a high sounding title for a fool. Luck 1s first utenant in pany of Captain Sncee People who have more principle, use it lavishls never misses and rich the com Lay thy plans with pruden prepared for emergencies, What we need 5 10 up a philosophy of pray Do all the good in let every action be usef DIay Zeal without ¥ pedition to a man i One should seek for « 13478 Cultivate thy mi be a store of pleasin Value tl stands by 3 Knaves il where plainness knows not how to live, hn all difficulties patient, overcome them by perseverance. It is our own vanity that makes vanity of others intolerable to us, (Greatness lies nol in bel but in the right using of strengt Pride is seldom delicate teelf with every mean advantage, thrive L$ thie ; nian sas ’ 2d hs Great hearts alone, understand bow inch glory there is in being good. is with i IOUS, he Our actions must cist immortality loathsome ¢r 2 TT ‘ z al x There is always { shine; it 18 the shadow of « He who wishes ure the good of has already secured his own. To be happy is the purpose our being, bul to preserve DApPPIness. 4 BPOL 10 OuX JUTSeIVes, haar oLhers tres forever to i the sentinel, The virtue which re be guarded is scarce A man dough without leave 1 A round of pleasure s ders it difficult to make To be happy wi nature, and carry our age along us, Be not sorry if but be nen, A silent whisper to you nity. The largest given to any man 1s right. It is one of the | friendship to tell your friend of 1} ! faults, { The power to do great things gener- | ally arises from the willingness to do | small things, Eternity is needed to adjust the ine- | qualities of time; the good man cannot | lose by dying. | An humble knowledge of thyself is a surer way to God than a deep search after learning. A failure establishes only this, that out determination to succeed was not strong enough. Thought is the property of him who can enter it, and of him who can ad- equately place it. Intemperance in aims 1s the source of many” of the life-failures, which we constantly witness, If ye dowell, to your own behoof will ye do it; and if ye do evil, against your- | selves will ye do it. She who will nol reason is a bigot; she who cannot is a fool, and she who dares not is a slave, Tet us learn to appreciate and value at their true price the little blessings that come to us daily. The effects of no man’s sins texmi- pates with himselij often he involves others in his own ruin. Show me a people whose trade is d by and 1 will show you a people ea is a sham, The life of man consists not in seeing visions and in dreaming dreams, but in active charity and willing service. When you speak to a person look him in the face. Good company and good conversatson are the very sinews of virtue, alas : the truth, Make few prom Ave up to your ments. Keep your own secrets if you have any. A head properly constituted can ac- commodate itself to whatever pillows the vicissitudes ot torture may place under it, Mankind are too apt to julge of things SOIHY. bY events, and to connect wisdom with good forlune, and folly with disaster. ' Lat those who would affect siy wit ; ¥ AF i. } ngular, | ean understand people’s losing ing too litle to tad, but T camnot understand s : too much to KH ng by trusting Whatever your situation in life i8 Ake without ambition ) IGAKES IU Fas pnetimes ren thangs sat re $433 § Bait. = i “ De Lue 1 Xa i) wi t know you sorry if ignorant oi hour stars may aE great thoughts of eter- gr liberty thal can ever be $ : 3 thertiy verest tests : hag rity it determine to be yery will bs sure to be y on without © 1 Ae, Sowing oe ; Ju
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers