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