The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, November 05, 1867, Image 1

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A. J. GERRITSON, Proprietor. 1
For the Montrose Den:am
Sabbath- School Association.
The Susquehanna County S. S. Associa
tion met in Convention at Susquehanna
Depot on the 15th day of Oct. 1867, at 3
o'clock, p. m., in Mechanics' Hall, where
a committee were in readiness to receive
strangers and friends, and assign them
places. Convention opened by prayer
and devotional exercisesonder the charge
of the moderator, James B. Gregg,Presq.
of the Association, with appropriate mu
sic by the choir. Wm. 11. Jessup then
addressed the Convention on the import
ance of Sunday Schools in our land ; their
influence in the home, on the parent, on
the children in our streets, iu our neigh
borhoods, towns and country, the duties
of parent to child, and the qualification cf
S. S. teachers for successfidly teaching the
children ; the mission of S. S. teachers
neat to the ministry, its responsibility
great,and its result incalculable, and to
the church its corps of faithful teachers in
dispensable, and their reward a crown of
everlasting life.
Verbal reports from Hon. S. B. Chase / .
of Great Bend, L. F. Fitch, E•q., of Mont
rose, C. W. Deans of Harford, P. Tower
of Lenox, G. W. Guernsey, of Susq'a De
pot, Rev. Jerome of New Milford and
Great Bend, Mr. Beardsley of Lit. Mead
ows, E. Summers of Franklin, Mr. Sher
man of Liberty, C. Tiffany of Gibson, J.S.
Towne of Forest. Lake, E. S. Pickering of
Oakland, J. Schlager of Harmony, were
heard respect,ing their Sunday schools,
which were interesting and encouraging.
R. G. Pardee, of New York, arrived in
time to bear said reports, on which he
made appropriate remarks.
In every town reported there are child
ren not under the influence of Sabbath
School instruction. The great object be
fore us to reach those out of schools at
the present time. 'What are we doing to
bring in the outside children ? That was
the object of Robt. Raikes, to bring in
the children from the streets, highways
knti back places. Let us gather them in ;
d ) not be discouraged; it only requires
t us, perseverance and energy, with a
great
, deAl of kindness, to reach all,classes
a -1 conditions, and bring them in.
The statistical report of Samuel Bird
sall, corresponding see'y, was read, giving
the following from 30 district secretaries.
Only 22 made any report, as follows :
Aggregate number of schools, 77 ;
Whole number of scholars, 4,664 ; Bays,
2,160, Girls, 2,480 ; Officers, 218 ; teach
ers, 616; average weekly attendance in
63 schools of 3,710 pupils, '2606 ; number
of volumemPin library, 17,899 ; Sunday
school papers, 1,270.
Addresses of Rev. Wilbur Johnson, and
Rev. Mr. Erskine.
Music by James G. Clark, vocalist.
Mr. Pardee said he thought this county
never convened on a more important ob
ject than the one for which we have as
sembled to-day; looking to the interests
of the boys and girls of our county. The
command of God to His church, through
Moses, was to treasure the truths in thine
heart, and thou shalt teach them diligent
ly to thy children, and shalt talk of them
when thou sittest in thine house, and
when thou walkest by the way, and when
thou liest down and when thou risest up.
The Sunday school is of divine appoint
ment. He who commanded, go preach,
said go teaeh. The organizing of a Sab
bath school is of great importance, but
few schools are properly organized ; the
best man should be sup't, and the adapta
tion of the qualification of teachers to
their class should be studied very close
ly, and effl?rts be made to put every teach
er in the riglit• place., -Organization was
the secret of success in Robert Raikes'
school in 1781, which increased in four
years to a quarter of a Million on his sys
tem ; while a Sunday school taught in
Lancaster, Pa., in 1740 by a Quaker, and
others in former years, failed for want of
proper system and organization. Mr.
Wells has said you cannot raise Sunday
schools above their Sup't. Regular and
punctual attendance by the sup't and
teacher is of great importance in its influ•
ence on the school. Order is very im
portant. These seven characteristics
make a good school : System—Silence—
Vigilance—Variety--7Candor—Concen
tration--Cnats-r, the centre. Sap'til and
teachers, be cheerful, life-like, natural,
plain-spoken, clear and distinct; aim to
do everything better than you ever done
it before; adapt the hymn to the lesson ;
introduce the hymn by proper remarks;
prayer short, and for the school espeCial
ly. Vary the commencement exercises
from time to.time, and'never have a stere
otyped way of conducting schools.
Music by James G. Clark.
Wednesday morn.—after devotional ex
ercises, the subject of infant schools being
the order of the day, the Convention was
addressed by Messrs. Jesstip,Chase,Whit
tlesey, Jerome, Clark, Baldwin, Diehl,and
Smith ; giving tbeir various methods of
teaching infant classes, but all-labored tin
der the inconvenience of .using the, same
room
-with the larger classes, save one.—
Rev.. Alfred Taylor, See. of Pa. S. S. As
sociation,
made appropriate remarks, and
stated th at he was encouraged to' see so
many present who were anxious to know
how to. teach.
We ea teachers should acme befere'eur
Class with a knowledge of the subject in
our minds, with a faculty to instruct'and
impart the truth in a simple way, having
kind feelinp and aftedtionate ways,dheer
ful and loving dispositions—the traits of
character in a juvenile teacher. He re
commends a separate room for the juven
ile class, but when circumstances will not
admit, give the infant the same lesson,
and the teacher adapt the lesson to the in
fant mind, as he would prepare the same
food by cutting it in smaller pieces. Mr.
Taylor gave a blackboard exercise,and re
commended its use, and also object les
sons.
Mr. Pardee took up the same subject,
and recommended a separate room for the
infant class. He `considered the first year
of a scholar's attendance of great impor
tance if rightly impressed with the object
of Sunday schools and the importance of
punctuality, order, &c. Teachers should
study the character of the scholars, and
strive to teach the simple truth in a man
ner that the child may take it home with
him. The characteristics of a child are
activity, curiosity and inquisitiveness.—
Mothers and teachers bear with the ques
tions of your children, and give them
heed. Questions were asked add satis
factorily answered.
2p. m. After devotional exercises Va
rious reports were made by teachers pre
sent of their manner of teaching, difficul
ties, &c. Mr. Pardee in review said there
were three 'kinds of teachers—one he
would call lazy teachers, who would sim
ply ask the questions from a question
book without making any application ; an
other class were sermonizing teachers,
who would attempt to imitate the preach
er as near as may be, by preaching the
subject into the scholar ; the third .class
were conversatiobal teachers, which he
would recommend, gaining the attention
of the class by some question or fact,then
conversing the subject with them in a fa
miliar manner, and observe the following
ruleS.: Ist. Never teach what you do not.
understand. 2. Never tell a child what
you could make him tell you. 3. Never
give any information without asking for
it again. 4. Never use a hard word if an
easy one will convey your meaning, and
never use any word at all unless you are
quite sure it has a meaning to convey.—
Never begin an address or lesson without
a clear view of its end. 0. Never give au
unnecessary command nor one which you
do not mean to see obeyed. 7. Never
permit any child to remain in a class even
for a minute without something to do,
and a motive for doing it. Therefore,
teachers should ever remember, Ist, al
ways t&lead each child to see that he has
gained something useful in every lesson.
2d, always to call back in the children's
own language all the tru;.hs taught them,
and all te useful lessons of instruction
given. 3d, always make everything du
ring the session, singing, prayers, addres
ses and teaching, bear directly upon the
great central practical thought of the les
son, and apply the truth of God to the
heart and life. Good teaching is always
fresh, pleasant teaching. The child is in
jured, and the word of God reproached, if
its sacred truths are taught in a cold, un
attractive manner. Routine teaching is
always dull and depressing. Teachers in
quire : Does every Sunday lesson lead di
rectly to Christ and salvation ? Do you
expect the salvation of your pupils at this
time and under your instruction ? or do
you presume on to-morrow? when you
" know not what a day may bring forth."
Does your teaching fulfill its aim and pur
pose? Prayerfully read, mark, and in
warillv digest.
In the arrangement of the lesson the be
ginning should arrest attention, the mid
dle inform the mind, and the end or appli
cation affect the heart. In teaching, first
get the words and the meaning of the
words, and the understanding of the les
son clearly in the mind of the scholar ; 2d
Draw useful practical lessons of instruc
tion from all.
In order to draw out the legitimate les
sons from the Bible truths, but two things
are necessarj : Ist, a knowledge of the
facts ; 2d, an accurate perception whet: -
er the be good or evil. The practical
lesson is but an echo of the fact, and its
character. If evil, avoid ; if good follow.
Teach much by questions, wisely put;
for, Is; a question unveils the soul; 2d,
nothing can escape a question ; 3d, it re
veals decision ; a question awakens curi
osity, arouses the memory, and leads out
inquiringly into the unknown.
The excellence of a teacher may be
known by the character and adaptation of
his questions. The first opening ques
tions of a lesson are very important. It,
has been said by Augustine that a boy can
preach, but 'only a man can catechise.—
Study the art of questioning, of securing
and retaining attention. Remember that
curiosity is the parent of attention. Rely
on Bible- truths, promises and illustra
tions, as divinely adapted to children.—
Some of the qualifications of a good teach
er are, Ist. Something to teach, know
how to teach, aptness to teach, and a
tractable spirit. 2. Good motives, sim
plieity'ef style, an interest in the subjects
taught, in the learners, and a praying spir
it. 3. 1..0ve to God and love to children.
4., A deep ,conviction of the S. S. work,
and the power and value of each soul._ 5.
Faith in .Christ, faith in Ms , word, and
faith in.ehildhood. 4; ladastry, prams-
MONTROSE, PA., TUESDAY, NOV - . 5, 1867.
Lion, earnestness, gentleness, patience,
perseverance, humility and self-denial. A
heart wholly consecrated to Christ is the
&eat, source of power for Christian work.
Our motto, JitstTs, only ! 0, teacher—
Be earnest—salvation's the prize;
Be patient—the cross thou must bear;
Be holy, be gentle, he wise,
Be constant, be fervent in prayer.
Evening. Mr. Pardee answered vari
ous questions propounded by me' berg of
the Convention in that off-hand, \satisfac
tory manner that we could not but feel he
was master of his work. He recommend
ed teachers' institutes or weekly meet
ings, and S. S. Times, for valuable instruc
tions and useful hints to teachers. He
suggests that a roll of honor be kept for
scholars who introduce and retain new
scholars in school ; also that a committee
be appointed to find something for all
the scholars to do. He says, labor not
only to make good moral citizens of your
scholars, but for their conversion, and
success will attend faithful prayerful ef
forts.
The closing address to parents and
teachers was delivered by Rev. Alfred
Taylor. After a vote of thanks to the
people of Susqa'a for their generous hos
pitality, the Convention adjourned.
D. K. OAKLEY, Secretary.
Reflections for November.
MARL'§ZE ANIMALS.
Independent of the great variety of
plants, herbs, trees, bushes, which grow
and twine together at the bottom of the
deep, there are so many different species
of animals, that we cannot possibly know
them all, much less can"we enumerate the
individuals that belong to each species.
Among this innumerable multitude of ani
mated beings there is no confusion, but
all may be easily distinguished ; and in
the sea, as everywhere else, a perfect or
der rei g ns . All these creatures may be
arranged in certain classes ; each one has
its particular nature, rood, nitiac or lire,
distinct character and peculiar instinct.
Iu the :ea as well as upon the land, there
are shades of gradation, and insensible
steps from one species to another. When
one ends the other begins. The stone,
which is the highest link in the mineral
kingdom, is halt a plant; the plant which
terminates the vegetable kingdom, partly
belongs to the animal kingdom ; and the
animal kingdom, which connects man with
the brute creation, has some resemblance
to him. In the sea, also, nature passes,
by just gradations, from little to great,
insensibly perfects the different kinds, and
connects them all by one immense chain,
no link of which is defective. How pro
digious is the multitude of inhabitants
contained in the sea! What varieties are
found among them I What diversity of
forms, of instincts and of destination !
Sume are so small as to elude our percep
tion ; others so large, that their enormous
bulk inspires us with terror. Some of
them are destitute of all beauty, and their
color so nearly resembles that of the sea,
that it is with difficulty we can distinguish
them. Others are adorned with the most
brilliant and magnificent colors. Some
species are very unprolific ; and if it was
not so, they would destroy all the rest.
Others again multiply prodigiocisly, and
are highly beneficial, by supplying men
and animals with food. Lord how nu
merous are thy works In wisdom' thou
halt made them all. The earth is full of
thy goodness ; the great and wide sea,
wherein are.things creeping innumerable,
both small and great beasts, display thy
marvelous riches. There go the ships ;
there swims the huge whale, which thou
hast formed to sport among the waves,
the terror of the finny race, 'to play
therein. All these wait upon thee, that
thou mayest give them their meet in due
season.—Sturnt'a Reflections.
- moo
Vulgar Language.
There is as much connection between
the words and Thoughts as there is be
tween the thoughts and the actions. The
latter are not only the expressions of the
former, but they have the power to react
upon the soul and leave the stain of their
corruption there. A young man who al
lows himself to make use of one vulgor or
profane word has not only shown that
there is a foul spot upon his mind, but by
the utterence of that word be extends the
spot and inflames it, till by indulgence, it
will pollute the whole soul. Be careful of
your words, as they show your thought.
If you can control the tongue so that no
improper words are pronounced by it,
you will soon be able to control the mind
and save that from corruption. You will
extinguish the fire by smothering it, or by
preventing bad thoughts from bursting out
in language. Never utter a word any
where which you would be ashamed to
speak in the presencejof the most refined
female or religious man. Try this prac
tice a little while, and you will soon have
command of yourself.
pr Horace Greeley declares, through
the Tribune of the 16th, that "the Repub
licans are bound to go under if they don't
enfranchise the blacks ;" and that "the
Republican party :will enfranchise the
blacks or die in the effort." This "spit
ting
_against the wind" of the popular
voice is ludicrous. There will. be no tears
or regrets,. however, when the 130,dical
party comes j ti`"dle In the 'effort.'
koti tivaptlio:94;w: kils:l :two al
There were but three persons in the
oar; a merchant, deep in the income list
of the Traveller, an old lady with two
bandboxes, and a man in the corner with
his hat pulled over his eyes.
Tommy opened the door, peeped in,
hesitated, looked into another car, came
back, gave his little fiddle a shove on his
shoulder, and walked in.
"HI, little Tommy Tacker
,Plays for his supper,"
shouted a young exquisite lounging on
the platform in tan-colored coat and lav
ender kid gloves.
"0, Kids, you're there, are you ?
Well, I'd rather play for it than loaf for
it, I had," said Tommy, stoutly.
The merchant shot a careless glance
over the top of his paper, at the sound of
this petit dialogue, and the old lady smiled
benignly ; the man in the corner neither
looked nor smiled.
Nobody wodid have thought, to look,
at the man in the corner, that he was at
that very 'Moment deserting a wife and
five children. Yet that is precisely what
he was doing.
A villain ?
.0, no, that is not the word.
A brute ? Not by any means. Weak,
unfortunate, discouraged. and selfish—as
weak, unfortunate and discouraged people
are apt to be; that was the amount of it.
His panoramas never paid him for the use
of his halls. His traveling tin-type saloon
bad trundled him into a sheriff's hands.
His petroleum speculations had crashed
like a bubble. His black and gold sign,
"J. Harmon, Photographer," had swung
now for nearly a year over the dentist's
rooms, and be had had the patronage of
precisely six old women and three babies.
He had drifted to the theatre in the eve
nings,—he did not care now to remember
how many times,—the fellows asked him,
and it made him forget his troubles; next
morning his empty purse would gape at
him, and Annie's mouth would quiver.—
A man must hays big glass, too, on Sun
days, and—well—perhaps a little oftener.
He bad not always been fit to work after
it, and Annie's mouth would quiver. It
will be seen at once that it was exceed
ingly bard on a man that his wife's month
should quiver. " Confound it, I Why
couldn't she scold, or cry? These still
women aggravate a fellow beyond reason."
Well, then, the children had been sick ;
measles, whoopin/g cough, scarlatina,
mumps, he was sure he did not know
what not; every one of them, from the
baby up. There was medicine, and there
were doctor's bills, and there was sitting
up with them at night—their mother usu
ally did that. Then she must needs pale
down herself like a poorly' finished photo
graph; all her col9r, and roundness, and
sparkle gone ; and if ever a man liked to
have a pretty wife about it was he. More
over, she had a cough, and her shoulders
bad grown round, stooping so much over
the heavy baby, and her breath came
short, and she had a way of being tired.
Then she never stirred out of the house—
he found out about that one day; she had
no bonnet, and her shawl had been cut
up into blankets for the crib. The chil
dren had stopped going to school; "they
could not buy the new arithmetic," their
mother said half under her breath. Yes
terday there was nothing for dinner but
johnny cake, not a large one at that. To
morrow the saloon renta were due. Annie
talked about pawning one of the bureaus.
Annie had had great purple rings under
' her eyes for the last six weeks.
He would not bear the purple rings and
quivering mouth any longer. He hated
the corn-cake and the untaught children.
He hated the whole dreary, dragging,
needy home. The ruin of it dogged him
like a ghost, and he should be the ruin of
it as long as he stayed in it. Once fairly
rid of him, his scolding and driilk.ing, his
wasting and failing, Annie would fiend the
children to work, and find ways to Live.
She had energy and invention, and plenty
of it, in her young, fresh days, before he
came across her life to drag her down.—
Perhaps he should make a golden fortune,
and come back to her some summer day
with a silk dress and servants, and make
it all up; in theory this was about what
he expected to do. But if his luck weht
Westward with him, and the silk dress
never turned up, why, she would forget
him, and be better off, and that would be
the last of it.
So here he was, ticketed and started,
fairly bound for Colorado, sitting with his
bat over his eyes, and thinking about it.
" H-m-m. Asleep," pronounced Tom
my. with his keen glance in the corner.
"Guess I'll wake him up."
He laid his cheek down on his fiddle—
you don't know how Tommy loved that
little fiddle—and 84,ruck up a gay, rollick
ing tune:
"I cares for nobody, and nobody cares for me."
The man in the corner sat quite still.
When it was over he shrugged his shoul-
ders.
" When folks are asleep they don't hoist
their shoulders—not as a general thing,"
observed Tommy. "We'll try another."
Tommy tried another. Nobody knows
what possessed the little fellow, the little
fellow least of all; but be tried this:
" We've, lived arid loved together,
Through many a ch4nging year."
It was a new tine, atkil fie wanted prac
tice, perhaps. -
Tile - tram jitried itici started "bioisq
MIMIUM
the gloved exquisite, waiting hackuten,
baggage masters, coffee counter and sta
tion walls slid back; engine houses, and
prison towers i and labyrinths of tracks
slipped by, lumber and shipping, took their
place, with clear spaces between, where
sea and sky shone through. The speed of
the train increased with a sickening sway;
old wharves • shot past with the green
water sucking at their piers; the city
shifted by and out of sight.
" We've lived and loved together,"
played Toromy l in a little plaintive wail.
".Confound the boy!" Harmon pushed
up his hat with a jerk, and' looked out of
the window. The night was coming on.
A dull sunset lay low on the water, burn
ing like bale-fire through the snaky trail
of smoke that went writhing past the car
windows. Against lonely signal houses
and little deserted beaches the water was
splashing drearily, and playing monoto
nous bases to Tommy's wail :
" Through many a changing year."
It was a nuisance, this music in the
cars. Why don't some one stop it ?
What did the child mean by playing that?
They had left the city far behind now.—
He wondered how far. He pushed up
the window fiercely, venting the passion
of the music on the first thing that came
in his way, as men will, and thrust his
head out to look back. Though the un
dulating smoke, out in the pale glimmer
from the sky he could see a low, red
tongue of land, covered with a twinkle
of lighted homes. Somewhere there, in
among the quivering warmth, was our—
What was that boy about now ? Not
"Home, Sweet Home"? But that was
what Tommy was about.
They were lighting the lamps now in
the car. Harmon looked at the conduc
, tor's face, as the sickly yellow flare struck
on it, with a curious sensation. He won
dered if he had a wife and five children ;
if he ever thought of running away from
them; what he would think of a man who
did; what most people would think;
what she would think. She'—ah, she had
it all to find out yet.
"There'll no place like home,"
said Tommy's fiddle
Now this fiddle of Tommy's may have
had a crack -or so in it, and I cannot as
sert that Tommy never struck a false
note; but the man in the corner was not
fastidious as a musical critic; the sickly
light was- flickering through the car, the
quiver on the red flats was quite out of
sight, the train was shrieking away into
the west—the baleful, lonely west—which
was dying fast now out there upon the
sea; and it is a fact that his bat went
slowly down over his face again, and that
his face went slowly down upon his arm.
There, in the lighted home out upon
the flats, that had drifted by forever, she
sat waiting now. It was about time for
him to be in to supper; she was begin
ning to wonder a little where he was;
she was keeping the tea hot, and telling
the children not to touch their father's
pickles; she had set the table and drawn
the chairs ; his pipe lay filled on the shelf
over the stove. The baby was fretting—
the baby always fretted towards night—
and she was walking about with him ;
walking very slowly and weakly; singing
now and then. Her face in the light was
worn and white, the dark rings very dark.
She was trying to bush the boys, teasing
for their supper; begging them to wait a
few minutes, only a few minutes, he would
surely be here then. She would put the
baby down presently, and stand at the
window, with her hands—Annie's hands
were not once so thin—raised to shut out
the light—watching, watching.
The children would eat their supper;
the table\would stand untouched, with his
chair in its place; still she would go to
the window, and stand watching, watch
-in. 0, the long night that she mast
stand watching, and the days, and the
years!
" Home, sweet home,"
played Tommy.
By and by there was no more of "Sweet
Home."
" How about that cove with his head
lopped down on his arms ?" speculated
Tommy, with a business-like air.
He had only stirred once, then put his
face down again ; but he was awake,
awake in every nerve, and listening, to
the very curve of his fingers. Tommy
knew that, it being part oT his trade to
learn how to use his eyes.
The sweet loyal passion of the music—
it would take worse playing than Tom
my's to drive the sweet, loyal passion out
of Annie Laurie—grew above the din of
the train.
"'Twaa there that Annie Laurie
(MY° me her promise true."
She used to sins that, thought the man '
—this other Annie of his own. Why, she
had been his own, and be had loved her
once. How he had loved her 1 Yes, she
used to sing that when he went to see her
on Sunday nights before they were mar
ried, in her pink, plump, pretty days.—
Annie used to be very pretty.
"Gave me her promise trae,"
-hummed the little fiddle.
"That's a fact," said poor Annie's bus
bandderking the words nut under hat,
"and kept it, too, she did."
Ab ! how Anniebad kept it ! Thc whole
dark picture' of her married yearn- , the
days, of work.,pig ,pain the . Willits, of
watching; . the patient voice, the qt(ivtir,
ing month, the tact and the planning, and
=2:===l=M
I VOLUME XXIV . , NU ER 45.
the trust for to-morrow; the lore that had
borne all things, believed all things, hoped
all things; uncomplaining—rose into out
line to tell him bow she bad kept it.
"Her taco is as t'he fairest
That o'er the sun shouts on,"
suggested the little fiddle.
That it should be darkened forever, the
sweet face! and that be should do it—he i
sitting here, with his ticket bought, bound
for Colorado.
murmured the little fiddle.
He would have knocked the man down
who bad told him twenty years ago that
he ever should forget; that he should be
here 'to-night, with his ticket bought,
boundlfor Colorado.
But it was better for her to be free from
him He and his cursed ill luck were a
dragon her and the children, and would
always be. What was that be had said
once ?—" Sever mind, Jack, I can bear
anything as long as I have you."
And here he was, with his ticket bought
bound for Colorado.
He wondered if it were ever too late in
the day for a fellow to make a man of him
self.
" And she's a' the world to me,
And for bonnie Annie Lanni.
I'd lay me down and dee,"
sang the little fiddle, triumphant.
Harmon shook himself, and stood up,
The train was slackening; the lights-of a
way station bright aheadj It was abont
time for supper and his mother, so Tommy
pot down his fiddle and handed around
his faded cap.
The merchant threw him a penny, and
returned to his tax list. The old lady
was fast asleep with her month open.
" Come here," growled Harmon, with
his eyes very bright. Tommy shrank back,
almost afraid of him.
"Come here," softening; "I won't hurt
you. I tell you, boy, you don't know
what you've done to-night."
"Done, sir ?" Tommy couldn f t help
laughing, though there was a twinge of
pain at his stout little heart, as hecfinger
ed the solitary penny in the faded cap.
"Done ? well, I guess I've waked you tip
sir, which was about what I meant to do.'
" Yes, that's it," said Harmon / distinct
ly, pushing, up his hat; "you've naked
me up. Here / bold your cap."
They bad puffed into the station now,
and stopped. He emptied his purse into
the little eap, shook it clean of paper and
copper alike, was out of the car and off
the train before Tommy could have said
Jack Robinson.
"My eyes," gasped Tommy, "that cap
had a ticket for New York, sure! Me
thuselah ! Look a here One, two, three
=must have been crazy; that's it, crazy."
"He'll never End out,' muttered Har
mon, turning away from the station lights,
and milking back through the night for
the red fiats and home. "He'll never find
out what he has done, nor, please God,
shall she."
It was late when he carne in sight of
the house, it had been a long way across
the tracks, and hard; being stung by a
bitter wind from the east all the way,
tired with the monotonous treading of
the sleepers, and with crouching in peril
ous niches to let the trains go by.
She stood watching at the window, as
be had known that she would stand,her
hands raised to her face—her figure cut
out against the warm light of the room.
Efe . stood still a moment, and looked at
her, hidden in the shadow of the street,
thinking his own 'thoughts. The publican,
in the old story; hardly entered the beau
tiful temple with more humble step than
he his home that night.
She sprang to meet him, paler with her
'watching and fear, and he felt her arm
about hie neck.
" Worried, Annie, were you ? I haven't
been drinking; don't be frightened—no,
not the theatre, either, this time. Some
business, dear—business that delayed me.
I'm sorry you were worried, I dm Annie.
I've had a long Walk. It is pleasant here.
I believe I'm tired, Annie."
Ho faltered and turned away his face.
"Dear me," said Annie; "why, you
poor fellow, you are all tired out. Sit
right up here by the fire, and I will bring
the tea. I've tried so hard not to let it
boil away, you don't know, Jack; and I
was so afraid something had happened to
you."
Her face, her voice ' her touch, seemed
more than he could bear for a minute per
haps:- He gulped down his tea choking.
" Annie, look here 1" He put down his
cup, trying to smile, and make a jest of
the words. "Suppose a fellow hack it in
him to be a rascal, and nobody ever knew
it, eh ?"
"I should rather not lthow it, if I were
his wife," said Annie, simply.
Jack coughed, took up his tea cup, eat
it down hard, strode once or twice across
the room, kissed the baby in the crib,
kissed his wife, and sat down again, wink
log at the fire.
I wonder if He had anything to do
with sending him," be tial4presently, un
der his breath.
"Sending whom?" asked puzzled Annie.
" Business, dear; just busmen. I was
thinking of a boy who did a littie job for
meto•mght I that's
, -And that is all ehoknowa to this, day
dant:the! man Bitting in.tbeworwiAlLith.
bie bat over his eyes, hound for Oolttray.
"Attsti neier forget will t."