TH MAID.
Thynder of riotous hoof a ovr the quaking sod;
ylMlJOT reeking squadrons. Steel-cupper, Iron-shod :
1 White Maid and (he white horse and tlio llaj.plng banner of Qod,
Black hearts riding for money; red hearts riding for fames
TCe Mild who ride foV France, nnd the King who lidcg for eliame
Olhtlemsn. fooli and a saint riding In Christ's high name!
Oust to dust!" It Is written. Wind-scattered nre lance and bow.
Dust tlie Cross of Point George; duel t lwnner of (mow.
The bones of the King ate crumbled, and rotted the aliufta of the foe.
Forgotten the young knlKht'a vnlor; forgotten the captain's skill:
Forgotten the fear snd tha hate nnd tho mulled hands mined to Kill;
Forgotten the shields that clashed nnd the arrows that cried bo nlii'111,
Like a story from some old book, thnt hnttl of long nun;
Shadows the poor French king nnd the might of IiIh Kngllsh foej
BhadowB the charging nobles and the nrchcrs kneeling a-row,
But a ilume In my heart nnd my eyes, tho Maid with her banner of snowl
Theodore llobcrta, In l'ull Mall Mogailne.
TOM
The Storv of a Kindness That Was Remembered, fp
The old man looked at tho stranger.
Then ho looked at the letter In his
hand.
"Friend of Kilgorton's, eh?"
"Yes," Eald the strnnnr.
The old man looked at the lottor.
"Thomas Harper eh?"
That's the nnnie."
"Any friend of Jim Edgerton's Is
Welcome," said the old man. "Do you
know Jim?"
"Quite well."
"He's a good hoy. I started Jim In
business."
"Bo he told me."
"Did he? I'm glad he remembered.
They don't usually. I suppose I've
tarted twenty boys in business. Prec
ious few of them remembered it. Jim
old you, eh?"
He had a queer way of saying "eh?"
And he had a queer way of putting his
gray head a little on one Bide when
he said it.
"Yes, he told me."
"Good. Most of those boys got all
they could out of me and when they
began to be a little useful they left.
There's very little gratitude left in tho
world, Mr. Harper."
And he started at the letter.
The stranger looked from the old
man to the dingy walls and the dingy
furnishings of the old office.
"How is business?" he asked.
"There isn't any," replied the old
van. "Not for me. I'm too old fash
ioned to keep up with the procession.
terhaps I'm too honest. Anyway, I'm
pretty close to the end of the string."
He scowled as he spoke and shook
his gray head to give emphasis to his
words.
"Are you alone here?" the stranger
asked.
"I have a young man in the outer
fllce," the old man replied." It's pret
ty nearly time for him to serve not
ice on me. I don't believe it will be
worth while for me to hire anybody
else. How long do you stay in the
eity?"
"A day or two."
"I'm glad you came in," said the
Md man. "It does me good to think
Jim hasn't forgotten the old days.
Sorry I can't entertain you in some
way. I haven't any home to take you
to, and I don't know anything about
the theaters."
The stranger laughed. He was a
well built man of perhaps forty, a well
dressed and well kept man.
"That's all right," he said. "I came
here to see Jim's old friend. You're
one of the oldest merchants In the
eity, Jim told me. You must have
ome very interesting reminiscences
to tell."
The old man shook his head.
"Nothing of the sort," he answered.
"Nothing but hard work, and disap
pointments, and knaving, and Ingrati
tude." "That's a sorry list," said the
it ranger.
"It's a sorry life," said the old man
:Txcept for a favored few. Yes, I
might be a rich man today if I had
n't been weak and soft hearted. That
doesn't pay when you're in trade, Mr,
(Harper. You're got to be hard, hard,
hard!"
His voice rose as he uttered the
Word, and he smote the old desk
tarshly wHh his clenched hand.
The stranger looked at him and
lowly nodded.
"Your experience evidently has not
keen pleasant," he said.
"Pleasant," echoed the old man.
ook at me.- Sixty-seven years old,
4rty years in Dusiness ana ausoiuie
jjr nothing to show for It. I'm a hor
rible example of the wrong way of
olng things." He laughed unpleas
antly. "I was looking through a
bundle of notes the other day little
turns and some that are fairly big.
They represented loans I have fool
ishly made. Do you know that the
total of those amounts would com
fortablv provide for me if I lived to be
a hunl )ed! Talk about gratitude!"
He soiled darkly as he nervously
folded 'the letter. But when he looked
tjp tljA scowl faded. "This isn't a
pleasant way to treat you, Mr. Harper.
But It's my way. I'm the grouch of
the street My hobby is ingratitude,
and I talk It whenever I can get a lis
tener. But I'd rather you wouldn't
snake it too strong when you see Jim.
ffim grateful to jim for at least re-
piauiiraiiug uv.
The stranger nodded.
"I'll be careful," he said. "And now
I'm going to ask a little favor."
A queer smile crossed the old man's
face.
"I'm afraid it's hopeless," he said
"no matter bow small. There was
tltae when the expression didn't scare
me a mite, but that was many years
MO."
The stranger stared at the old man
nd suddenly laughed.
- f
"That's good," he said, "I accept
your hint only to tell you it is wasted.
I m not in any present need of money.
In fact I've got a little I want to get
id of. I Invile you to be my guest at
dinner tonight."
The old man suddenly shrank back.
"No, no," he said.
"Yes, yes," laugheu the stranger.
"But I'm not a diner-out," protest
ed the old man. "You see how shab
by my garb is."
"That's all right. I told Jim I was
going to Invite you. He seemed
pleased."
"Did he?"
The old man hesitated.
"Shall we say six o'clock?" tha
stranger asked.
The old man drew a quick breath.
"Yes." He nodded vigorously. "I
like your way," he said. "Somehow
you don't act as if you were doing thla
in a merely perfunctory way. You ac
tually want me to dine with you? Is
that true?"
"Of course it's true," said the strang
er. "Expect me back at 6 o'clock."
He arose and crossed to the old man
and shook his hand warmly.
"At 6 o'clock," he repeated, and was
gone.
The old man stared after him wist
fully.
"That's a cherry fellow," he said
"Leaves a sunshine behind him. Sun
shine is a scarce blessing in this old
den. Six o'clock, eh?" Where's the
whlskbroom?"
At 6 the stranger was back agar.i
"Ready," was the old man's greet-
ing.
He locked the drawers of his old-
fashioned desk and locked the time
stained outer door, and they passed to
the street.
"This way," said tne stranger. "You
don't object to the Colonna?"
The old man shook his KFad.
"One of the glided ones, eh? The
latest, isn't it? I've never been in one
of them. They don't appeal to me
they don't appeal to my old-fashioned
notions of economy. And I'm a bird
of pretty sober plumage for Buch gorgeous-
surroundings."
The Btranger laughed.
"In order to be more sociable we
will dine In a private room," he said.
"Ah, here we are."
They entered the great hotel with
its gleaming columns and glittering
A PRAYER.
God keep us through the common days,
The level stretches white with dust,
When thought is tired, and hands upraise
Their burdens feebly since they must,
In days of slowly fretting care,
Then most we need. the strength of prayer.
it:
iaiUiUiiiiUiaiUiiiiUiaiUiaiUiaiUiiuiiiiuuiUiuiiiiaia
decorations, and were taken up in
the luxurious elevator to a floor high
above the noisy street.
The stranger led the way to a door
and pushed it open. In the center of
the apartment a table was laid for
four, a table that gleamed with silver,
backed by snowy napery.
A lady was standing by the table,
a lady beautifully gowned, and be
side her was a slender young girl.
The lady came forward quickly with
her hand extended.
"My dear, this is Mr. Oliver," said
the stranger. "My wife Mr. Oliver;
my daughter Ethel."
The lady seemed greatly pleased to
jneet the old man. She took bin hat
and coat and led him to a seat at the
table.
"We are quite ready, dear," she said
to the stranger. Then she touched a
bell and a waiter entered and the din
ner began.
It was a very good dinner, a much
better dinner than the old man had
eaten for many years. And the little
family seemed determined to make
him enjoy the occasion. There had
been a time, so far back, that it made
him quite dlizy to think of It, when
he had been a diner-out, and enjoyed
the good things of the table and good
company. -
He sighed as he recalled the misty
period. ' ,
It was a delightful family, this fam
ily of the stranger's. Never for a mo
ment did they let the old man forget
that he was the honored guest.
It was quite a merry feast, too. The
lady was a delightful talker, and the
young girl developed a strong vein ot
humor as she told of her childish ex
periences In the big hotel.
The old man thawed under the,
pleasant treatment For the time he
seemed to forget his cynical views ot
life.
'This la a feast to remember," Be
aid. "Of course I'm going to waka
up in the morning and find It all a
dream."
And a faint smile crossed his wrink
led face.
"I do that sometimes," said the child
with a little sigh.
"We all do, my dear," said the old
man.
"But I Illce the beautiful dreams Just
the same," sold the child.
"So do I, my dear," and the old mnn
nodded to Hie child, arid the pretty
brown head nodded back to him. And
then he suddenly laughed. "I'd like
to dream them often my dear," he
went on, "but I've never been able to
find the food that will produce the
right effect."
The child looked at him with won
dering eyes.
"1 don't think It is the food," sha
said. "It's the fairies."
He nodded.
"I'm afraid," ho laughed, "that the
fairies cut my acquaintance long ago."
And then the dinner was at an end,
and tho child kissed father and moth
er "good night," and came to the old
man and put out her hand.
"Good night and beautiful dreams,"
she smilingly said.
And he suddenly stooped and touch
ed his lips to the white forehead, and
watched her longingly us she went
away with her maid.
"A charming child," he murmured.
"Her name should be Sunshine,"
said the father.
There was a brief silence. Tha
younger man produced a cigar case.
"Will you Join me?" he asked.
The old man looked at the lady. She
smiled and nodded.
"I haven't smoked for many years,"
he said. "My taste In cigars was too
expensive for my purse. This is a
very good cigar."
"I think it will prove to be," the
younger man said as he passed the
light.
"It takes me back a long, long
ways," murmured the old man pres
ently. The younger man looked at the lady
and the lady nodded.
He turned to the old man.
"Sir," he said, "with your permis
sion I want to tell a brief story. It is
not a new story. I have told it to my
wife," the lady nodded in confirmation,
"and It Is possible that you have lreard
something like it. Nevertheless, 1
want to tell it in my own words and
in my own way."
. The old man looked at him curious
ly. "You have my close attention," he
said and stared upward at the curling
smoke.
The younger man settled back la
his chair.
"I'm going to call this story 'Ingrati
tude,'" he began.
The old man suddenly looked at
him.
"Ingratitude," he murmured.
"That's the subject," said the
younger man, "and the story begins
something more than twenty years
ago. It begins here in this great city,
and it concerns a boy named Tom. He
was a street boy, this Tom, an orphan
boy who had shifted for himself since
he was a youngster of eight. It was
a bad schooling for the boy. He had
picked up associates who were harm
ful. He had no education and no
ideals. It was a bad outlook. And
then one day he attracted the atten-
3
3
i
Margaret E. gangster.
tion of a man a business man of kind
ly impulses. He offered him work.
Tom came to the man's place of busi
ness the next morning. The man Bet
him to work. Tom didn't like work.
He stayed a day or two and then ran
away. The man found him and coaxed
him back. Then he ran away again,
and again the man coaxed him back.
At last the boy settled down and
stayed in the man's employ for a
whole year. And the man was patient
with him, and taught him things be
should know, and advanced him' to a
higher grade and better pay. Tom
learned fast but the old life still drew
him, the old associates held him in
their grip." He paused and looked at
the old man, and saw that the old man
was intently watching him. "One day
the man called him into his room.
'Tom,' he said, 'there is money miss
ing.' And Tom nodded. 'I took it,' he
answered. And he said no more, but
Just stood still and waited for the po
lice. But the man said very gently,
'It's your bringfng up, Tom,' he said.
'I'm afraid you don't know any bet
ter.' Then Tom spoke up very quick
ly. Yes, I know better,' he said. "It
was the gang got It away from me
But I know better.' Then the man
came to the boy and put. his hand on
his shoulder, and looked in his eyes,
and said quite softly, 'I'm glad you
know better, Tom, because I'm going
to let you try again.' And when Tom
went back to his work there were
tears on his cheeks and, somehow, he
wasn't ashamed of them. Weil, Tom
tried very hard this time and he kept
away from the gang as much as he
could. But there came a day when
the master faced him again. Tom,' he
said, 'there Is more money missing
much more money.' Tom nodded as
he had nodded before. 'I took it,' he
said. 'I couldn't help It, sir. I know
It's the pen for me this time.' But the
master shook his head. '"he.-e Is tha
mAtiovf hA dbUpJL ThA eanir got it
all,' Tom answered. 'I haven't a dime
of It' And again the master shook
his head. 'I'm not going to send you
to prison, Tom,' he said. 'That would
be no use. I must get you away from
tha en li I.' flml'n Din nnlv hone. I'm
going to send you Into the far West
And he did. He put the boy on tne
train and gave him money nna tne
ticket, and the last words he said
were, 'Let me hour from you, Tom. It
you don't write 1 will think it's be
cause you're ashamed to write. And,
Tom, don't you forget u. you're go
ing to be honest if you starve for it!"
He paused and drew his breath
sharply. Then hu resumed the story
in a lower tone.
"Tom didn't forget. It was a hard
struggle for him, but he won out. He
drifted into Mexico, then into Central
America, then down to South Ameri
ca He truik ni mining lu Peru and
slowly he prospered. In Valparaiso he
met a liuly, and presently won ner ai
fectlon. But before he asked her to
marry him he told her all this story
and she said, 'Some day we will find
this good man and show him what his
money lias accomplished. So they
were married and Tom felt that he
owed all his happiness to the master.
Aud then a daughter was born and
that was anoflier debt. Instead of be
ing the vagabond, the Jail bird he
would have been, Torn, was a good cit
izen, a happy husband and a proud
father." He paused again. "But Tom
didn't write. That was Ingratitude.
The master had asked Tom to write.
He put It off. At Hist there was noth
ing to tell him nothing but the story
of his struggles. And then as time
wore on Tom put it off, and at times
quite forgot it and that black ingrati
tude. Tom prospered, and anore al
luring prospect called him to San
Francisco. And there their fliild fell
111, very ill, and in the agony of his
fear, Tom's conscience brought his in
gratitude before him, and he promised
to find hlB benefactor and crave his
pardon. And the danger point was
passed and the dear one lived."
He paused and wiped his face.
And the room wiib very still.
Then the old man spoke.
"There was a hoy named Tom," he
slowly said. "I do not think I know
his other name. 1 feared he was
dead."
"His name was "Harper Tom Har
per," said the younger man. "He is
alive and has come back to try to tell
you how much he is in your debt."
And the lady arose and came to the
old man swiftly and put her arm about
blm and softly kissed his withered
cheek.
"The child must have caught the
g-tft of the fairies," he Bald a little
brokenly, "for this certainly Is a beau
tiful dream." He suddenly arose. "I
must go," he said. "Where are my hat
and coat?"
But they held him back.
"We are going to lake you home
with iib" said the lady. "Tom will
show his gratitude in his way I am
going to show mine in my way."
'But my my business?" he Btani-
mered.
"Onlv an eniDty shell," laughed the
vnnnepr man. "It scarcely means
bread and butter. Don't forget that
the debt I owe you makes a neat lit
tle sum when compounded for two-
and-twenty-years."
The old man looked from one Bmii
ing face to the other.
"I was all wrong about ingratitude,1
he murmured.
MEXICAN OIL FIELDS.
Their Product Very Large, but the
Quality Rather Poor.
within the last year or two an ex-
peilliiirlv ahundant flow of petroleum
has been reported from several places
in Mexico. Some of the new wells are
near Tnmni. and others are further
south. As a good deal of oil has been
imnnrted bv Mexico from tne unueu
States, there has been a desire to
learn whether the product or tne re
tan iiv nneneri wells was likely to rival
that of this country. Accordingly, an
nfflclnl of the United States Geological
Survey. Dr. C. W. Hayes, went to
Mexico a few weeks ago to investi--oto
Aa thfl owners of the property
pledged him-to partial secrecy, he is
not at liberty to leu an ne Knows.
Still, he feels free to mention the
fnllnwlnir facts:
"While these fields promise to yield
a larirA nuantlty of crude oil, Its qual
ity Is such that It cannot compete un
der present conditions in the markets
of the United States or Europe with
ho hiriior irrailn netroleum of the Ap
palachian, Jllinois or mid-contineni
fields. Further, tne conditions m
i.eh that the demand for fuel oil and
refined products in Mexico exceeds
the supply available at present or m
olerht In the near future.
"Finally, the conditions in the Mexi
can fleldB are not favorable tor tne
small operator, and it is highly prob--Mo
-Hint nrrviiie.tion as well as re
fining will remain in the control of
very few strong companies.
Not That Kind.
Apropos of examination time, Prof.
Carl C. Peterson of Dubuque, related
at a recent dinner some examination
stories.
"Once, In a Bible lesson," he, said,
"I repeated the text 'Arise and take
the young child and his mother nnd
flee into Egypt.'
"And then I showed the children a
large picture that illustrated the
text in bright colors. -
"The children studied this picture
eagerly. Then they all frowned, all
looked rather disappointed. Finally
a little girl Bald:
"'Teacher, whre Is the flea?'"
Washington Evening Star.-
At Grandma's,
At Gramma's, when 1 go to tea,
They are so nice to little me!
I sit up at the tuble hlKh,
An' have some caku, un' even plet
They wait on hid like other folks,
An' always lauuh at all my Jukes,
My crusts she never makes me eat,
An' give me truly teu, with sweet.
I have a lovely time, you see.
At Uiammu's when 1 go to tea!
-E. 8. T., in tho l'hiludelphia llecord.
Held Up the Earth,
"Now, Richard," said the teacher.
"can you tell mo who Atlas was?"
Yea, nia'am," answered Richard.
"He was a notorious footpad."
"A what?" queried tlie teacher.
"A footpad," repeated Richard. "He
held up the earth, you know." Phila
delphia Record.
Jerry's First Mouse.
Our cat caught a mouse the other
night, the first one he has ever caught
so far as I know in the two years I
have owned him. Jerry, for that is
his name, has worn since he was a
wee tiny kitten a little bell which
seemed to bother him very much. He
would elt by a hole In the floor for
hours at a time, and once I watched
him when .10 scented a mouse. He
was greatly excited and his body
trembled, but Just as he was about to
spring Ms bell tinkled, much to his
disgust, for he walked away, growling
to himself.
How he he rid himself of bis bell
last week still remains a mystery to
me, for we have not found it as yet.
But when I opened my door the other
morning there sat Jerry, looking up
at me, with a mouse In his mouth
about the Ie of a peanut; but Jerry
seemed so proud of It and his eyes
seemed to say, "There, now I (ruens
you'll not put another bell on my col
lar." Needless to say, we did not,
and we are waiting for another oaten,
and so is Jerry. Audrey M. Watts,
In the New York Tribune.
A Few Nuts to Crack.
These riddles will delight the
hearts of many of the younger read
ers who are Interested in such things:
What are the lightest bats made of?
Of material that is not felt.
What case Is the eatriest to get up
-even for lawyers? The staircase.
Why can a drunken man never
drown? Because his head will be
sure to swim.
When has a man his double? When
be is beside himself.
Why does the hanging of a picture
depend on Its execution? Because it
it were not executed it could not be
hung.
What pupil is most to be pitied?
The pupil of the eye because it is
always under the lash.
What is the difference between a
hen and a ship? The hen lays an
egg and the ship lays to.
Why should it be better to be
burned than to be guillotined? Be
cause a hot steak is better than a cold
chop.
What is that which a selfish man
never fails or objects to pay? Atten
tion, to his own comfort.
Why is a lost article like the fog?
Because it's mist.
When has a man no room for his
dinner When he is "filled with emo
tion." Why do tramps walk from town to
town? Because they haven't automo
biles. What is it that has a tail like a
cat, and has the same language? A
kitten. Indianapolis News.
How Bertha Became a Heroine.
"May I take Rosabelle, and go over
to Grade's, Aunt Kate? If Oracle's
mama says so, may we go walking
together with our dolls?" A very sweet
little face lifted itself to Miss Tracy
so sweet that the aunt stooped and
kissed It
"Yes, dear, if you're sure your moth
er would be willing. Does she let you
two midgets go out by yourselves?'
" 'Course she does, aunty," Bertha's
laugh rippled out in sheer amuse
ment. "Why, I am 'nine,' the child
drew herself up, "and Gracie'B seven;
and we never go very far, and there's
no crossing."
"You may go theiL. It is 3 o'clock
nowdon't stay later than 5. Where's
my kiss?"
"Here 'Ub two of them." Bertha's
hug nearly crushed the dainty nich
ing. "She's Just a little fairy," Miss Tra
cy thought, as the child disappeared.
Grade's mother consented, with all
the cautions mothers give about dis
imroi nnd time. Neither mother nor
aunt thousrht of a lurking danger
perhaps they didn't know of it at all.
The children skipped along merrily,
oov, ,ith her doll. Grade's doll was
named Gabrlelle, and she called her
"Gay" for short. As we have seen, Ber
tha's doll was named Rosabelle, and
she called her "Belle."
ThA talked about their children.
aa nttia mothers and bie mothers will.
Grades had feared Gay would get the
measles, but she hoped tne time was
nn at TifiW.
Pretty soon they came to what
looked like a cave with an open front
tv w nlata aMinnflfl In tho Rid A of
l,T VYI1.B IrI-w u-"i.-
a mil, only a few steps from the
road.
"What a. nice rjlace to keep house,'
Bertha said. "The earth is so dry and
warm. Even mamma wouwat tninK
we could get cold it we Bat down ob
it"
"Let's," Gracle repeated. She usual
ly agreed with Bertha: The chldrea
sut down. They hushed their babies,
and laid them In little beds whloa
they hollowed out lu this dry sifting
earth. They piled It lu heaps over tht
dolls, all but tbulr faces, and pretend
ed it was blankets.
"I'm going way In, and lean against
the wall," Oracle said. Bertha was
about to follow her when something
dreadful happened. The wall caved
in, and there wasn't any Oracle there;
she was ail out of sight, hidden In
the sand heap.
What' could Bertha do not a per
son near! Bertha was a brave child,
she set right to work, digging tha
sand away with her small hands.
Didn't she make It fly! In two minute
she felt the top of Oracle's bead, and
in two minutes more she bad freed
her face.
"Oh! oh!" Grade sputtered, with
her mouth full of sand. Bertha didn't
stop until Grade's whole head waa
out, then she panted
"I don't think I can dig you
all you, but you won't die an
somebody's sure to come along."
How long It seemed before a car
riage did come! The man had Oracle-
clear in short order, frightened but
I out
wWf
unhurt, and he drove them hon
'You saved her life, you did,
told Bertha. "You're a real herol'
But two little mothers cried
they remembered that Belle and Gay
were burled in the sand pile. They for
got them In their fright, which prove
they were not real mothers, only play
ones. Helen A. Hawley In Sunday
School Times.
Paul's Agates.
"Somebody stole my agates!" cried
Paul as the tears rolled down his dirty
little face. "I had them here Just a
few moments ago, and now they'r
gone.''
"What are agates?" asked hi
graudmotber, coming to the porch to
ll nd out wha( all the noise was about
"Marbles!" walled Paul. "Aunt Em
ma gave them to me in a little leather
bag with my initial on it last Christ
mas. Oh, denr! What will she
when I tell her they're stolen?"
Hut, when the matter was
down, Paul remembered that .
not seen the marbles for a
two. He thought he had seen '
a few minutes before he began
lug, but was mistaken. Grandr.
and mamma and Aunt Emma
even little Bess Joined in the seai.
but the barbies could not be found.
"Never mind!" said Aunt Emma. "I
will buy some new barbies for you
dear, don't cry!"
"I don't want any new agates. 1
want my own!" howled Paul, louder
and louder. "They were the nicest
ones In the whole world."
When when the weeks went by,
and no trace of the agates could b
found, Paul tried to console himself
with the new ones that were not half
so pretty. He felt sure come one bad
stolen the pretty bag, and every day
he hoped the thief might bring the
agates back to bim. All this hap
pened when he was about six year
old, but he Dever forgot the gift that
disappeared so mysteriously.
When Paul was eight, he went with
his pap and mamma to the west, and,
while they were there, his mamma
took him to visit a missionary school
for little Indian children. The dusky
little boys and girls loked very Strang
to Paul, but, they did their lessons so
well that he thought the white chil
dren would have to work hard to get
ahead of their line grades.
"Mamma! mamma! There are my
agates!" cried Paul, as they watched
the children on the playground after
lessons.
"Why, Paul! They will hear you!"
said his mother. "Of course they ar
not your marbles."
"Maybe they are," said the matron,
with a smile. "They came In a box of
supplies from Ohio a few years ago,
and the boys have carefully kept them
ever since."
"There is the very leather bag that
Aunt Emma made for me!" cried
Paul, pointing to a worn and soiled
little bag lying on a bench near
where the game was going on, "isnt
It, mamma?"
The Indian boys generously offered .
to give up the pretty marbles, but
Paul would not take them back. "I
will soon be too big for such games,"
he cried in a manly way that pleased
all the teachers, "and I want you to
have them."
When they got home, they asked
the lady who packed the box for tho
Indian school if she remembered tha
marbles, and she said at once: "Why,
yes, of course I remember them. They
were in the pocket of that coat Paul
v.j .nwr, anrl T thnneht he was
UBU Ulllftivnii, o
sending them for the children. I nev
er heard that he thought they wero
stolen."
"I do remember now," said Paul. "I
took off the little coat to give to Mra.
Pnrtpr jind the bag was in the pocket
Well, I'm not sorry now, but I waa
then. The Indian boys have only a
few playthings, so I'm glad they got
the agates." Hilda Richmond in Sun
day School Times.
The most recent church census of
the country shows 40 denominations,
with 161,731 ministers, 210,199 church
es and 32,883,156 members.
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