tod PMSBYTERMS. tWft*TIIE FOTEfDATIOh OF THE LOO COLLEGE. I'reSldent Harrison Attends the Kxor elsos anil Hakes a Speech Which *s Well Received—l!*,ooo People Get n Chance to See the Chief Magistrate. Historical Facts of Interest. fIHHBBinE ndhoronta of the * sfZiU'vlj church f "Tgjj throughout the coun -11 try have been deeply J7 Interoetod In the celebration just held in Pennsylvania oo m raemorativo of j&r' " the foundation of tho YT MZtr* "Log College," the first Presbyterian school of theology in this oountry. It tvas not, however,|strictly ajPresbyterian gathering, The church colobration bo eauae a groat popular demonstration in greeting to tho President and Mrs. Har rison and to the distinguished persons who aceompaniod them. The rosult was ibat tho president and his party drove nearly twenty miles from Postmaster General Wunamaker'e country residence it Jenkintown to the scene of the cele bration on the old Tonnent farm, near Hartsvilio, under hot sunshino through tlouds of dust, but amidst a continuous greeting from all tho country side, and ■hey saw and tvero seen by fully 12,000 people. 1,01 COLLEGE. Jonkintown gavo the president a warm greeting as he passed along its central itreet. Carriagos lined tho curbs,hou ud shops all wore decorated with bun - ng, flags fluttered overhead, windows .vero filled with faces and waving hand kerchiefs, and the morning air rang with :he clang of church bells and with sheers. The president bowed this way and that, while Mr. Wanamaker at his 4de smiled with gratification at thi greeting to his distinguished guest and fellow ruling eldor. Tho third ruling el dor, Governor Boaver. who was in the second carriage, with Mrs. Harrison, re foived a special greeting, peoplo in the frowd frequently calling out his name, coupled with a oheer. Tho ladies in the windows all gazed with interest, at Sin. Morrison and waved their handkerchiefs &t lior with enthusiasm. Scoros more of carriages joluod lu the throng of vehicles that loft Jenkiutowr. so that aftor the president's barouche Ihcre rolled landaus, victorias, pin; ions, surreys, buggies, road carts, carryalls ind market wagons. Most of tho mar ket wagons were trimmed with flowers ind rolled along to an accompaniment ..i' tinkling bells. As soon as Noble station, gayh ado-nad with flags, was reached the pre..cent begun to pass beiwtcu u rows of flags that had been thickl; i lanted on the banks of the road. Tho ed, white and blue fluttering again lark, green hedges and neatly trimmed Bod made a very striking effect. The r ception at Abingtou, for which tho entiiv population had made such united prep arations, was beautiful inseeaoand nuis: have been very grateful to the president, accustomed us ho is becoming to the noisy greetings of crowded cities. The slbplng lawn in front of the Alding ton Presbyterian church was covered with children from tho Sunday school and public schools, nearly all clad in while and waving flags. Flowers and flags indicated tho graves in tho church y;i d opposite of members of the 'Pen dent family. A he passed the arch in front of the church boaring the inscription, "Greet ing to Our ltultng Elders Who Rulo Our Country," the president rend the words with a smile and looked around at Gov ernor Beaver. The greeting refers to the president, Mr. Wanamaker and Governor Beaver, all of whom aro ruling elders of the Presbyterian church. The carriage stopped a moment while tho president acknowledged the greeting of the chil dren and thon moved on toward theareli that spanned this road at the entranco to Abington village. This arch, 35 feet high and GO feot span, was covered with bunt ing, relieved by lines of sunflowers. Every house in Abington was decora'ed, and tho lawns wore covered with ladies and children waving handkorchiefs. All along the road these scones were repeated. Every farmhouse and every country seat was decked in gala attire. Even tho whitewashed hut of u colored mun by tho road was adornod by a row of bright red tomatoes in every window, and curious as the decoration was, its loyal motive was upparent. It was 11.30 o'clock before the presi dent's carriage entered the lane leading to the field In the Carroll farm, a part of the original Tennent farm, which had been set apart for tho celobration. The scene that met his eye was surprising and lmpresslvo. For hours tho people had been gathering, and thero were at least 2,500 vehicles of all description-- ranged in rows along the fences of sev eral fields. In the field where tho exer cises were to be held stood a large double tont, with screen extensions, probably capable of sheltering 4,000 peoplo from the sun. The tents were crowded, for the exercises had just begun. Outside were quite 8,000 people, nearly all ranged HOUSE NEAB HARTSVIIILE IN WHICH THE FOUNDER OF LOO COLLEGE LIVED. In double lino, forming a lane running from the ontranco to the tents to the gateway of the field. Just in front of the tent a huge American flag, sus pended from two tall poles, one of fir and one of spruce, floated in the breeze. This spectacle of a cltyful of people in an open field waiting to greet the pre i dent was a novelty in the record of re ceptions ho has encountered. It looked more like a big country fair than any thing else, although the soml-reiigious character of tho celebration lent un aii Of subdued decorum to tbs gathering. The exercises opened with the singing of a hymn and prayer, aud then Rev. Mr. Turner, pastor of the old Neshaminy church, read a brief paper on Log ool lege, relating how Rev. William Ten nent, Sr., founder of the Log oellege, originally an Episcopal minister in Ire land, husband of a Presbyterian divine's daughter, came to America about 1716, boeame a Presbyterian and founded the Log oollege, which was the germ of Princeton college. Thon followed a number of addresses and historical papers, but the groat orowd was anxiously waiting for the president to speak, aud when ho was In troduced as "the most honored man on earth," the vaßt assemble rose as one man and obeered him vociferously for some moments. In beginning his re marks, the president said: "I have had illustrated today, I regret to say, u trait whioh I have observed in the noa-eccloslastioal world, very much to my discomfort, and whioh I thought would bo absent here. I never, at any time, promised to make an address here today. [Laughter.] I never authorized any ono to say so. Indeed, among those dire ful consequonces and attendants which come to the president of the United .-dates, there is none more embarrassing than this constant habit of being asso ciated upon the platform or at tho ban quet table with gentlcmon who havo manuscripts in their pockets. [Applause.] It is altogether unfair, and I expected horo in this great meeting of my Pres byterian brethren more hospitable treat ment. [Laughter.] "And yet I have pleasure in boing hore, for every impulse of honorablo pride which stirs in your hearts moves mine. I am glad to stand hero at tho source of a great movement. And so I rejoico here on this spot, about which in thiß neighborhood there gather so many his torical suggestions and incidents, to cele brate not a victory in war out ono of those groat impulses born of God and that will do his work until tho world shall cease to move. I stand dumb boforo tho part of what the great day will reveal as the fruit of what theso modest but pious and courageous men havo done here in the in stitution of the Log college. We lose tho thread of tho events. Only the eye of God can follow it. If it could be re vealed to us hero today, how many in this ;reat audience gathered from "remote -.actions of our country would bo able to trace the silver thread by which thoy had been drawn into tho church of God. ami continue to multiply tho influences of the efforts that were begun here? It, is pleasant to believe that that which i idden to our eyes hero will somo day be known, and that we will be ablo bottei lo realize what these men wrought lot God and mankind." After the president's address, tin presidential party sat down to luncheon with the other notable peoplo present, A-,., ; WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS WHLL. LAFAYETTE FIRST REPORTED FOlt DUTY. and a guard of Grand Army veterans pro vided intrusion from thousands who mssed close to the tent on every side mi gazed with wide open eyes at tho -pectacle of tho president of tho United -sates aud the distinguished people about him engaged in tho overy-day on ciipation of eating. Some of tho people's comments were amusing. Ono suo iturned yeoman watched the president 1 demolish a chicken croquette anil, turn- ' ing to his wife, said: "Well, h. 1 cats just like other folks; he doesn't 1 soom to bo different from anybody else I' ' Tho president aud his party then drove 1 back along the samo road to the post master general's residence, while the other exorcises incident to tho celebra- ' tion were carried on. Postmaster General 1 Wanamaker and Governor Beaver each made addresses, and were listened to with much interest by tho big assemblage 1 present. i Many of those in attendance at the celebration oxercisos proceeded for a mile northward along the Old York road to tho Neshaminy Presbyterian church. This church, of which the Rev. William K. Preston is the present pastor, is one quarter of a mile west of Hartsville, on ' Neshaminy creek. It is said to havo been founded in 1710, but the first uu- 1 thontio record makes it date from 1720. 1 when William Tonnent, the founder of 1 Log college, bocame its pastor. He continued to fill its pulpit during his conduct of Log collogo until 1743, two years before ills death. The grave of William Tennent is in tho burial-ground of the Neshaminy church, near the site of the original church building, in which the famous YVhitfiold preached in Novem ber, 1739, before a congregation of 3,000, > That was a vory large gathering for thoso early days, when the country was 1 so thinly settled. Beside the grave of the founder of Log 1 oollege, tho Noshaminy Presbyterian churchyard contains the remains of John 1 Scott, tho great-grandfather of Mrs. Har rison, and once the owner of much land 1 in tho neighborhood, including, it is said, 1 the ground on which tho Log college ' stood. Tho cnapol connected with the ' church stands in the graveyard and con tains a window which was the gift of < John Wanamaker. All the country through which the pres- ' ident drove is historic ground. George Washington encamped near Neshaminy J church in 1777, and his headquarters were I in a houso near tho ohurch and near the ' Old Y'ork road, and it was hore that La- < fayotte first reoorted for duty. It i i also an interesting tradition thut while return- '■ ins from Neshaminy Presbyterian church i one Sunday, artor listening to a sermon - by tho second pastor of the church, Rev. ■ Samuel Irwin, John Fl'ch conceived the t ideu or urdng steam for navigation His J first steamboat, it will he remembered, ' antedated the one built by Robert Fulton. < I The Fulth of the Gypsy. When a gy sy dios that is the end. ' Every member of the race has a horror ' of death, becauso no gypsy lives who ' has faith in a horeaftei. They cannot 1 be induced to contemplate it. No gen- 1 uiue gppsy ever accepted Christianity. 1 Borrow, in his many years of bible and missionary work among them, never 1 claimed to have converted one. In all countries, as is true of a goodly number of other folk, they occasionally profess a sort of attachment to tho ruling creed. For instance, we hear of a "gypsy exhor ter" in Ohio, and tho othor day a good bishop of Delaware was allowed to christen a gypsy child in a camp near Wilmington. But those little hypocri sies are all in the way of gypay thrift. The entire race belongs to the lowest or der of agnostics.—Springfield Republi can. A GENEROUS GOBLIN. Kick Nickson was a woodohoppor. He had livod close to the forest for many years with hie wife and chiidron. It was seldom Nick went to town or any whore else beoause he had a great deal of work to do to keep his family alive. Wood-howlng never was much of a pay ing business and Mick found it no hotter. But he never complained; he did the best he could in tho boat manner, and for the rest he trusted to a kind Provldenco to assist him and his wife and children. Nick had now boen going into tho woods for twenty-live years, and as ho was walking along this morning he was think ing of that fact more than once. "I havo worked very hard," he mut tered to himself as he stopped before a beautiful oak tree ready to tako off his jacket and start operations. "I havo worked very hard," he said again, "and I think I ought to be pensioned off very soon. But I don't think thero is much chance. Whero should I get tno monoy to keep my folks at home without work. r r "HOW DID YOU GET INTO THAT TREE?" ASKED NICK. But there, it is no use growling now on the day of my twenty-llfth anniversary in tho wood-chonping lino. Providence has stood by mo so long, and I don't think I shall be forgotten in tho future. I)o your duty with all your might, with all your strength, with all your ability, and with an unwearying spirit of energy and porsoverunce; that is my motto, and success is bound to follow some tinio or other." By this time Nick had taken his top coat off and laid it and his hat down in the grass. Then he took his axe in his hands, and, after looking at tho tree from its base to its crown, ho gave tho first blow. Thick splinters flew in all direc tions and Nick dropped his axe and jumped back from tho tree. "What's the matter," ho said; "did I not hear a noise somewhero like the whining of a child?" Then ho resumed his task. But ho had only made one more blow at tho tree when ho was stoppod again. This time he heard these words: "Get mo out!" " Who is it that calls there?" Nick asked, who was not in the least afraid. "It is I, tho goblin of Blinkingdalo!" a thin voice replied. "But whore are you to bo found?" "1 am in tho oak you have been hew ing at and T hnt'oood out because I was airaiu you might kiii mo." "Weil, teli me where I ought to strike in order to extricate you without doing you any bodily harm," replied Nick Nick son. "Tho axo is too big and too sharp alto gether," now said the voice from th tree; "takoyour pocket-knife and start cutting tho bark about two foot, from the ground. But be very careful or you will hurt mo.". Nick now took his knifo and he began cutting tho bark. Piece by piece flew out, until at last lie got to a hollow space, whon the voice instdo tho troo lot out. a shriek that was so loud and torriblo ail tho trees in the wood seemed to be shaken by it. ••Now, you have cut my beard, you old villain of a woodchopper," criod the gob lin. "Oh, I will kill you if you are not careful." "Look hero, Mr. Goblin." said Niok, "if you mean to kill mo when you get out, I think I will leavo you whore you are and go home. Good-by." "For gracious sake don't do that, my good muni" hallooed the goblin; "I did not mean what I said then, but you did hurt me, and no mistake. But bo care ful of my beard; it is very long, anil it hurts very much if you pull only ono of tho hairs out. Now I will tell you some tiling else. If you get me out without doing me any more harm I will give you a great reward, and mako you the rich est man in the world." Nick was well satisfied when ho hoard that, and he worked with renowed vigor. In a few minutes tho holo was largo enough and the goblin came out. The woodchopper was astonished whon he saw tho creature. The littjo follow was just eight inchos high and liis appearance was very funny. A long cap with a plume at the end hung down over his back and his board reached down to his toes. Nick looked very much surprised whon he re membered that this little man had been able to shriek so loud. "How did you get into that tree?" asked Nick of the goblin. "To tell you that would be a very long story to relate. Bo it sufficient for you to know that. 1 have beon in that troo twenty-five years today. You have got ine out of my long imprisonment, and I will give you a roward when tho time oomes." With the lost word the goblin had van ished. "Well, but whero is my roward?" criod Nick. "It is all very well to say I shall have it whon tho time comes, but when will that be? Oh, you mean little scamp of a goblin, to get me first to extricate you from an oak tree, where you' were purled for twenty-five years, and thon to run away from me because you ore too stingy to thank me for it. Ah ! this is an ungruteful, cruel world. Just whon I thought that I was to be made rich, too. Ah, well! novor mind; let me continue at my work of woodohopping, but I will be careful not to have any more to do with goblins." Ina few moments the roots of the tree lay baro, and behold what did Nick find? At tho vry base of the oak he saw a little black ebony box. He picked it np and noticod thero was no lock to it. On the top was written tho two words: "Open me!" But the words were spelled back ward, and when Nick looked at thorn it read in his mind, "em nepO." Niok never had been very sharp in book learn ing, and it never struck him to try and make some sense out of tho words "em nepO." Ho saw that he did not know what It meant and he did not troublo any more. Whon he went homo he took the box along with him, thinking It would make a toy for one of his ohlldron. Arrived at his little cottage he found ono of his neighbors sitting on the door step. Nick showed him the little black box, told him where lie found it and re lated to him his adventure with the gob lln. The neighbor was a pretty shrewd old man, and no sooner ha'd he looked at the handwriting on the box than he knew what it moant. He had read it backward. But he novor said so to Nick. When he went home he quietly put tho box in his pockot. Nick did not notice it. Ho was too honest himself to supposo any one else a thief. Whon the neighbor got into his eottage he lmmodlatoly got a chisel and a ham mer and smashed the box open. Inside he found a piece of paper, which was wrapped around a tiny little silver key. On the paper ho read these lines: In tho forest by tho brook, Where the ailver maple grows, You will And a little nook That with solid silver flows. Those lines were signod, "Your Grate ful Goblin." Tho man at onoe ilnderstood all. He knew where tho box came from, and he knew that tho goblin who had been in the oak had intended this for Nick. "Niok is a fool," the man said to himself. "I am going to lift the treasuro. Why did ho not keep the box for himself?" Ho accordingly went into the forest. Ho found the little nook, just as he was told, boside the silver maple tree. Ex amlng tho ground, he noticed a tiny key hole. Ho had already put the key into the hole ;'he turned it around and ho Saw the shining sliver in the nook, when his hand was suddenly arrested by tho gob lin. "You are not the man who liberated mo from tho oak tree!" said tho little man. Tho thief then had to confess that he got hold of tho box because his neighbor Nick could not read baokward. "Well, you had no business to bo a thief, and you certainly had no right to tako that box which did not belong to you." "I um sorry," replied tho man; "If you will forgi o me I will go home and tell Nickson all about this silver treasure and ho can come and get it himself." "No, there is no necessity for thai. Anyhow, I do not believe you would keep your word. But now that you have found this silvor treasure, tako It and carry it to your home; it .shall bo yours." Thon tho goblin vanished. The man at once began to fill his pockets witli silver. Wnou they wore filled he took iiis cap, then his handker chief, then lie took off his coat and used it as a bag. But when all was filled ho could not carry the load; it was too heavy. So ho had to leave some bohiu'T. Ho hurried homo and gave tho silver to his wife, thou lie took a wheelbarrow and returned to tho work by the brook. He loaded tho wheelbarrow to its utmost capacity before ho left for home. On his way to his cottage, however, he had to cross a small bndgo, which led over a stream, and when he was in the center of this bridge t!io boards broke under him, and tho wheelbarrow, the silvor and tho man foil down into the deep. The load had beon too heavy. The man was too greody; ho wantod too much, and now lio was drowned and ho had nothing at all. Now wo will return to Nick Nickson, the wood-chopper. Ho never missed tho little black box at all. Next morn ing ho returned to tho forest and worlcod away at chopping down trees as hard as ever. Sometimes he would think about tho goblin, and thon Nick would mur mur : "The world is very ungrateful. The next goblin I find in a tree has to stay there for ail I cuie." After he had chopped down ono tree lie was astonished to find again a little blank box at the roots. He picked it up again, and on tho top these words coubl bo read again: "Open me." But this time the writing was straight, and not backward; so Nick read it at once, and, of course, understood. "Openyur! Ail right, that is easily done." He put tho box on tho ground, took his axe, hit it one stroke and the was smashed. Inside Nick found a •ieco of paper wound round a beautiful golden key of tho finest workman-",:p. Nick took the paper, and looking at it close ho saw that itconlained the follow ing verse: At the vasUo on tho mount Is a- golden treasure, Wlieiv gol<ln rod Is often found Waiting for your measure. The slip of paper was signed, "The Grateful Goblin." Nick looked at tin: ill NIOK FINDS THE KEY TO A FORTUNE. writing long and Intently. "Well," he said at last, "I will at once go and find out whether that goblin has played an other trick on me. I might as well be fooled twice as once." Ho immediately ran toward tho moun tain, which stood not far into the forest. Arrived thero he climbed up the steep ascent, and whon he got to the walls of the castle he walked all around until ho found the yellow goldon-rod growing everywhere. Then he examined the wall. In a moment he noticed a small hole in the wall, which seemed to havo boen made for hie golden key. Putting it in the holo and turning it round wub done n a second. Nick already boheld the glittering mass of shining gold before him when tho goblin appeared. "So here you are, then," ho said to Nick; "so you did not give the box away this time. Why did you not koop tho other?" Nick explained to the goblin that he did not know what tho box contained. "Why did you not open it?" "I don't know." "Well, your neighbor did, though, aud he got a silver treasuro. But I punlsho I him boforo he was ablo to enjoy it, and ho is now dead in the stroam. Now, look hero, Nick, you fancied that I did not mean to give you your reward as I promised." "Well, it looked like it, did it not?" "Looked like it has nothing to do with It. You should have trusted me and have a little patience. However, you are a pretty good fellow, Nick, ami now hero is your treasuro. Enjoy it with your wifo and children, livo lung and bo happy; good-by, and remember sometimes the Grateful Goblin." Niok was now alono with his treasure He took a good lot homo with him, ui . he and his dear ones lived in tho futui* us happy as happy can be. —N. Y. Mori, ing Journal. THE SETTLING UP 19 CERTA.ni. Ton may take the world as it cornea anil gstft And j on will be euro to find That It will square the account aho owoi Whoever comes out behind. And all things bad that a man haR done, By whatsoever induced, Return at last to him, one by one. As the chickens come homo to roost. Yon may scrape, and toil, and pinch and save. Wlillo your hoarded wealth expands. Till tho cold, dark shadow of the grave Is faring your life's lost sands; Von will havo your balances struck some night, And you'll find your hoard reduced. You'll view yonr life in another ligbt When the chickens coiuo homo to roost. You can stint your boul and starve your heart With the busks of a barren creed. But Christ will know if you play a part. Will know in your hour of need ; And thon as you wait for death to come, What hope can there ho deduced From a creed ? You will lio there dumb While your chickens come home to rooek Sow as yon will, there's a time to reap. For the good and tho had us well. And conscience, whether we wake or Is either a heaven or holt, And every wrong will Had its place. And every passion loused Drift back aud meet you faco to face When the chickens come home to roost. Whether you're over or under tho eod. The result will be the same ; You cannot escape the hinds of God , You must bear yonr ein or shame. No matter what's carved on tho murblo slab, Whon the lteme are ail produced You'll find that St. Peter was keeping tab, Aud that chickens com - homo lo roost. —Exchange. UNDER THE APPLE TREE. Jo? HERE she stood un- T7 -----I dor tho apple troo in • - "J tho little pat.-It ..i ground that was uil th(! garden the .f.klj', 1 ' ?|i.'.o' -m small house behind "V <5/ her could boast. ■ - * t i . w Pretty May Grienon / 6l ' was called; but gKi " a she stood looking " out into tho road, and picking to pieces a sprig of apple blossoms, thero was that in her beauty to make the heart ache. Sim was hungry; she was almost tic:: perate. The largo, brown eves, whoso natural expression was ail gentleness and timidity, wore bright and eager; the face was ihiu and white, tho lips parched with fever. "Just a mile to tho river," sho was thinking— "ono little mile—and once un der the waves, rest, peace aud oblivion." Out upon the soft summer air there came from the window behind her a hol low cough. As she heard it, her l'aee softenod, and a rush of tears filled 1, , ■yes. "I could not dio and leave him! Ah! the way is hard, the cup is bitter, but will walk tho one, and drain tho otlir. Tor his sake—only for his sake. It will be only for a little while, and thon thou: is still the river." Sao was not yet nineteen, and the way before her was to lead to tho church; tiie cup to bo drained her marriage, aud for her wedding portion sho was meditat ing sutcido. Doos it seem exaggerated? I will tell you her story, and you may judge. 11 . lather, Paul Griorsnu. hnri ben a sue. ceobful artlst'and May wus his idol, ait'-; his wifo died, years agoue. May had been carefully educated, and upon a groundwork of useful knowledge her at her had reared a fairy palace of m •:c, poetry and painting. Without boiti-, rich, they had plenty, and they had trav eled faruud wide with a companion May hud loved from a baby, her father's pu hi and nfttni's .i:e, i'aul Griersou Hall, a distant cousin. Wlion May was 17, and l'aul five years older, tho young artist jolucd an explor ing expedition to make sketches, and the trio separated. That v.as tho first heart wrench. They were all in l'aris when the parting came, but a few months later Mr. Griorson's health began to faii, and .ie became hoiuosiek. "he tiny cottage in Hamilton—smallest villages—was his iuhoiritanco from .us mother, and he came back to it to .tie; for consumption grasped hint in its iron folds, and when lie struggled with sickness, tho bank in which were all his savings failed, and save for tho cottug and its furniture, he was destitute. Then began that fierce discipline of life that had robbed pretty May Griorson's cheek of its bloom, and driven her step by stop over the rugged road of poverty and sufforlng to tho boundaries of des peration. She sowed for the villagers, at starva tion prices; she carried her father's pic tures to the great city, nino miles away, walking ono way always, but rarely Aim ing a sale. She saved and starved to givo food and witio to tho invalid, and at no last, in sheer despair, sho resolved to marry Cuthbert Holmes, from whom her -oul shrank in positive horror. It was useless to write to Paul, wan dering in Central America, and whose letters to Paris were forwarded; bofore ho could come they would be dead from huugerand starvation. Cuthbert Holmes was rich, and had fallen in love with May In the church clioir. He had a deep bass voice and had supported her clear soprano week after week, till she woke in him a desire to keep her ever boside him. his wife aud mistress of his large, handsome house. He was a coarse, illiterate man; and there were rumors that his;dead wife diou of an obsolete disease called decline by the profession, broken heart by the sou timental. But ho had a sort of clumsy tact, aud lie wooed the girl through lior father; ulkiug of what he would do if ho had the invalid in his care, sending flowers aud fruit to tho cottage, and all tho while mating Paul Griersou as a coarse miud bates a refilled one, smarting under a sense of inferiority, though lie called the Griersons beggars in his heart. I think, had Paul Grierson known all thut was in his daughter's heart, as she ■tood under tho apple tree, he would have bidden her goto the .river, leavo him for lie suicide's lot, rather than put her hand in that of Cuthbert Holmes and swear to love and honor him. But he guessed nothing of this crowning act of erelf-sacritice the girl meditated., Ho looked from the wtnri<r<V"'Bnd saw her standing, quietly alone, and he said, gently; "Shall we walk to the Grove, darling? ' "Do you feol strong onough?" she usked, coming quickly to his side. "It is not far, and I sleep better after a walk." Sho wrapped him carefully in a soft travelling shawl, bi ought him a taste of vine in a tiny glass, and gave him her arm, only stronger than himsoif in the (act that there was no disease in her vming frame, only the woariness of Hunger aud suffering. They walked slowly to- tho Grove, a cluster of trees upon a public common, and where one bench at the foot of a gigantic oak tree was a favorite resting place. They were hidden there from Vuseont-bj upon the narrow foot-path and rvhtfn Hay had made a cushion of an old shawl that would keep her father's leet from the ground, they both fell into deep, contented silence; the girl crouched at tr fathers's feet, and his hand softly stroking her glossy brown curls. t think their greatest blessing was the power both possessod to lift themselves at such times above realities, put their sordid life far away, and live again In their past, or make a now world of pootle and artistic imaginings. Somewhere in dreamland they were resting for their brief holiday, when a harsh voice on the - other side of the great oak tree roused them. Only too well both knew tho3o hard tones, as Cuthbort Holmes said : "t'h'li marry mo quick enough when 1 ask her; uud as to her father, I'm not quite such a fool as to burden myself with a sick man. I'll take May off for a wedding trip, and keep her till the old man--" The voice was growing faint In the distanco. and they hoard no more. lint Paul Urierson's eyes wero llxed upon the white, toarful face -at his kuee with such terror that she eriod : ••Oh, forgive me! forgive me! It was for your sake!" , "For my sake, May! Would you have married that—that "brute to help me'f Chihl! child! I would sooner strike you dead than give you up to him!" "I know," said sho, with a choking sob, "But ho was always talking of what you ought to have, what would do yon good, as if he only wanted the right to p.'ov lie every comfort and luxury for you. Oli, lathery how inn wo be thank ful enough tin.: we heard hiru?" I'm Paul Unorstm was too deeply -U I yet to leu. :i May's escape. could not be uuigfor me, dearest, he . aid. holding her hand in a close c!a-p ; "only a few months of ease and est; hut lor you a lifo-iong agony. Promise me, promise me. May, that you will never again yield to such a tenipta -101. in y sake." ■•J pi on ~ Wo may suffer but it wil •i togi Oh, to think that ho would •e parted us, and left you lo—' And i shudder linishod the sentence. out even then, in her relief and pain, ■lay gave no hint of those visions of re t under the river that had been the " d. nm of release. Surely Heaven hau saved her once, and so ue way would H 'n for the future—the future the gi 1 , 0 n led by the father's life. Beyond in paraiiou, the dread of winch 1 vor left her. May had no thought of n u;ure. ask was gathering when Paul Orier oii rose feebly and sot his fucfe home ward. When the cottage came in sight other and duughter stopped short in the md. There being little to tempt burg a' , they had not fastened doors or WID OWS, and evidently some one was in the oiiso. There was a light in the sittlng iom, and v s'.'i they entered it a table v,s spread moh as they had not seen many long days. Tiio servifce was miliar, the okl-f.ushioued china that old .a-. Orleivo i nad cherished since her . .i weddin . day, the well-kept damask, • • small silver spoons and forks. But vhoro had broiled chickens, muiflus. .-■'liien preserves, huge red strawberries, •id crisp wa.or-cresses rained down rom Who had heaped the sugar bowl '.illei! the cream pitcher, replenished the butter-dish? Who was coming with a 3rm stop from tho kitchen, bearing • ritimpliamly a cofteo pot whose fra . .moo a • iftcd upon summer breezes greet astonished noses? A all ...i. ai. >v,n bear-led man, a iioad-shouldorod man, with great bluo •yos full of mischief, and yet softening Idly at the sightof his host and hostess, if tears were not far away. May gave one ecstatic cry. "Paul!" and would have rushed for ward. hut lie waved her back, deposited the coffee-pot. with a dramatic nourish, an 1 t!- u opened his arms. She uestled there like a bird who bus found her nosi. •if e ■ -form, and looking over iior head, i'a 11 held out one hand to his god-father. "My little wife?" he asked, and knew in Paul Grierson's eyes and May's quick •b that tho hope he had cherished in his otig exile would soon be a reality. •Come!" ho said, prc ently, "oat of my supper. I know you would come home half starved, so 1 foraged with a pocket full of silver. You ktroxv I have a natural genius for cooking, and it has been cultivated to full pet foction in our explorations." ••But how did you find us?" asked Mr. ■ rierson, when tho two wore seated. "Came direct from Paris. May wrolo you were coming to Hamilton, so to lamilton I came. The uativos told me > here Mr. Grierson lived " But Paul did not mention how the one native he had interviewed had described % to , i the dreadful poverty in the lit.le cotta. e, ••May!" he commanded, "eat more, and slop drinkiug coffee. You are the mine old colfee lover as ever, I see." "This is simply delicious," sho cried. "Xobody ever could make coffee liic •ours." ••But wo will train our slaves," he au wered, majestically; "for. May," and .to laughed like a boy, "what news do a think 1 found in Now York?" •I cannot guess." "Mv grandfather is doad." "Well! 1 thought you quarreled with him because you would become an , artist." "Too true, yet ho relented and left me ?.ll his money. Wo are rich, my dear.' "Wo!"she echoed. "You are rich.,' "It is all in tho family, my love, for I im going to have a wedding in Hamilton to uorrow." ••Uli. Paul!" sho gasped. "It is too •nou." "Then I'll bo off for Central Aniorioa again, and give you two or three year* more to think about it." "Bare to go!" she criod, wondering if her singing heart was the one so full of misery only a few short hours before. But before she slept she made her i n icssion, and was forgiven, and Paul had his way about the wedding. Ho had been urged to haste by Mr. Grierson's ghastly face and racking ' cough, but the Angol of Death passed them by. With money used lavishly i.i physicians and remedies, with the moot mving of care, his children nursed Paul Grierson back to life and hoalih. and tho studio in tho great houso, when- there ■re buby voices now to greet Paul and ay, is as much for tho use of tho elder . r! ist ai for his son and pupil, and May. is as much for the use of the ldor artist as for bis son and pupil. Sometimes they make summer visits lo th" tiny cottage and live in Arcauiun simplicity for a few weeks, but May's be ms under the apple tree are "no onger of despair and suicide, but full of ' i oseate visions of a fair, happy future —happy in her father, husband and •hildren, and the homo love encirclihg 'hem all.—N. Y. Ledger. Dwellers in Florida who are fortunate ?nough to posssess pet sand hill cranes have discovered that they are alert night watchers. No tramp or thief can ap proach the promises without hearing a dear bugle note of alarm. The caeki.ng if a goose saved llomo and tho cry of a •and hill orano performs the same ser- "" vice for tho Florida hen roost and smoke .ausix
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers