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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1894-7-12, Page 7MISCELLANEOUS READING. GRAVE AS WELL AS OAT. .fteading For Leisure Momenta for 014 and IrOung" Interesting and Proiltaq Wel The Baby Over the Way. cross in ray neighbor's window, With its folds of satin and lace, I see, with its crown of ringlets, A baby's innooent face. 'The throng in the street look upward, And every one, grave or gay, If ae a no. and a smile for the baby, In the mansion over the way. Just here in my cottage window, Hjs chin in Itis dimpled hands, AM a Pateh On his fatted apron, The child that I live for stands. He has kept my heart from breaking B‘or many a weary day; And his face Is As pure and handsome, As the baby's over the way. Som,etImes, when we sit together, My grave little man of three, Sore vexes me with the question, "Does God M Heaven like me?" And I say, "Yes, yes, my darling," Thought almost answer "Nay"; AS I see the nursery cancllee In the mansion over the way. And oft when I draw the stockings From his Mee tired feet, And loosen the clumsy garments From his limbo eo round and sweet, I grow too lintel: for singing, stiv heart too heavy to pray, As 1 thine of the dainty raiment Of the baby over the way. * 011, God in Heaven forgive me. For all I have thought and said) My envious beget is humbled My neighbor's baby is: dead I saw the little white coffin As they earriea it out today, And the heart of a mother is breaking 111 the mansien over the way The light is fair in my. window, The flowers bloom at my door; A boy is chasing the sunbeams That dance on the cottage eon The roses of health aye crowning My darling's forehead to -day; But the baby is gone from the window of the niaesion over the way! The Land of "Pretty Soon." 1 know of a land where the streets are paved. With the things which we -meant to achieve, It is walled loth the money we meant to have saved ; And the pleasures for which we grieve, The kind words unspoken, the promises broken, And MARV a coveted boon, Are stowed away there in that land some- where— The land of "Pretty soon." There aee aneet jewels of possible fame Lying abotait in the dest, And many a noble and lofty aim Covered with mold and rust. Awl oh! this place. while it seems so near. Is farther away than the moon. Though our purpose is fair yet we never get there— The land of "Pretty Soon." The road that leads to that invstie land Is strewn with pitIful wrecks. And the ships that have sailed for its shining strand Bear skeletons on their decks. It is farther at noon than it was at dawn, And farther at niglit than at noon OIL let as beware of that land down there— The hind of "Pretty Soon." Stab Ends of Thought. Nothing is infinite. We are shaped by our yesterdays. Love doesn't wait for an invitation. Advice should be well shaken before taken. Man makes the conscience oftener than conscience makes the man. When Cupid meets a woman he smiles and sits down. If there had been no God, Christianity has done for the world what would make one. Courtship is to marriage what the silver sands we stroll on in the sunshine are to the unknown depths of the ocean. The perfectly independent man may be an admirable character, but he doesn.'t know what it is to have the absolute devotion of friends. Aphorisms. Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship. We do not count a man's years until he has nothing else to count. There is a long and wearisome step be- tween admiration and imitation. I3e gentle. The sea is held in check, not by a wall of brick, but by a beach of sand. One may live as a conqueror, a king, or a mgistrate ; but he must die as a man. It is by attempting to reach the top at a single leap that so much misery is pro- duced in the world. Man is an animal that cannot long be left in safety without occupation.; -the growth of his fallow nature is apt to run to weeds. The preacher who leaves it to his hear- ers to apply what he says to them trans - fere to them the most essential part of his own business. Clip, clip. Patter, patter. The seeond vehiele was approaching nearer, An- other ten minutes and. the race would,be loet.• jack had apparently played for desperate stakes, and stood. a,good eliance of losing, "How muck farther is' it to the minis- ter's, jack ?" Ten miles." "Oh, dear,there's the tollgate." Like a whirlwind the waggon dashed up to the low wooden structure. A man 'with sandy whiskers eame out. jaek pressed a $5 bilhinto his hand. "Never mind the change," he said, "quick, lift the gate. It's life or death, You're a good friend of mine, 33il1 ?" "You can bank on that, squire. I knower' your father and his father before ham, and the family—" "Don't waste a word than, Bill, Let me through." "Elopement ?" '1 "Old man bank there ?" pointing to the approaching cloud of dust. " Yes, yes." "Pretty hot, I guess," " Yes, quick or—" " Got a gun, I guess?" "For heaven's sake„ lift that gate or—" "He'd use it, too, he would. Why, I remember when—" "Up with that gate, Bill," " All right. It's rather unsociable ye-ou are this morning, but 1 spose ye-ou are rather busy, Good morning. I'd like to be there and give away the bride, for O bonnier girl there ain't to be found in the country, even if she is the darter of the meanest man in the vicinity, and, it's Bill Goggins who says it." Like an arrow from a bow they shot be- neath the uplifted pole and Bill gazed after them meditatively. "Well, well, young blood and warm hearts," said he. "That's just like me afore I got old in the plow. Gosh, ain't the old man tearing mad. Look at the dust he's raising. He's rollin along like a cyclone, waving his arms and shoutin' mad. They -won't be much left of Jack after he gets through with him." The cyclone was approaching nearer and nearer. In the centre of the cloud could be seen a waggon, and in the wag- gon an elderly man who held the whip with one hand and the reins with another, while between his knees was a formidable looking weapon which looked like a blunderbuss. He dashed toward the toll- gate at about a 2.20 clip, and was about to ride through when down came the pole and. the horse sank back upon his haunches. " Toll," said the mild, pleasant voice of Bill. I ha,ven' t any time to bother with you, you scoundrel," was the reply. "Lift that bar." "Really, now, that ain't a perlite way to talk." "Let me through, you rascal, or I'll horsewhip you.' "Well, now, two can play at that little game. Toll, please." The old gentleman fumed and raged and then felt in his pocket. In his haste in donning his trousers his change had dropped to the floor and he hadn't a cent. "Here," he said, "I haven't any money with me. I must get through. I must catch that scoundrel ahead. Lift that bar at once." "We ain't doing business that way," was the calm reply. "It cost $228 last year to maintain this private thorough- fare, and we ain't running a charity toll- gate." The old gentleman nearly fell from his waggon in an apopletic fit. " You won't let me through 9" "No, sir-ee." When Bill added the extra syllable that meant business. "Then, confound you, I'll—" • He raised his gun. In a twinkling it was wrested from him. Then Bill raised the old blunderbuss and pointed it at his opponent. The old gentleman got behind the seat in alarm. "Now, if you don't keep away I'll blow • off your thinking cap," he said, as calmly as ever. The old gentleman dunked his head more than ever to save that valuable por- tion of his anatomy. " Now I guess we can talk business," said Bill. "This ain'tmo Bastile, and it ain't goin' to be stormed in that fashion. You haven't got the price 9" "Then you can't go through. Them's the orders. ' Por an hour they expostulated. At the end of that time another carriage ap- proached and the oldgentleraan borrowed a nickel from a friend and dashed on his way. The man at the tollgate would not surrender the gun, which he said had been raised against him, and which he wanted as evidence. Whet the old gentleman reached the house of the min- ister the young couple and the reverend gentleman was strolling out of the front door. Jack surveyed his irate father-in- law calmly. "You're a little late in getting here, father," he said. "We hopedto have the pleasure of your company, and, indeed, wanted you to give away your daughter, but time was pressing—and you under- stand the anxiety of a lover—so we de- cided not to wait. Still, better late than never. You willat any rate have the satisfaction of being the first tp eongratu- late us. There is my hand sir. I thank you for the honor of haying 'given me your lovely daughter, and trust that I may never prove unworthy of the con- fidence you have bestowed upon me. Edith, dear, receive the parental bless - Hearts Won.. Clip, Clip, went the whip. One of the most exciting races that ever took place in the county was on. Dashing around the conntry road came the black stallion, and in the light waggon were seated a couple whose destiny depended upon the speed of the thoroughbred. A. young man held the reins tightly, while his companion, a girl with her hair flying all over her face, gazed behind her at an ap- proaching vehicle with apprehension written upon her spirited features. "Oh, Jack, they are gaining," she breathed. Clip, clip. The stallion was straining every nerve. It was a stern chase and a long one. "11 pa does 'catch us, Jack, he'll kill you," she whispered. The waggon now was rocking like a boat in a storm, and she clung with sol- icitude to his arm. "See, jack, he's got his gun." A• & muttered something, pressed his lips more closel3r.and again touched his 'whip to the flanks of the gallent nag. "11 he only hadn't changed horses on us sweetheart, weld have beaten him out oethe county." "Dad was always full of mean trinks," "That's so, the meanest man on earth." "No,not that, Jack—" "Then -what does he want to come be- tween us for? You belong to me, don't you?" "'Yes, bilt--" "If that confounded dos hadn't barked we'd have got away all right." "I thought he'd bitten yott when he flew at you like that." "Only got a piece of cloth for his trouble. Still it's embarrassing. If had only an Ulster to put on. Might trouble nee to eAplain to the minister—'-" "11 .We only get there," sighed the other. " Get there ? We will or "'Ye, die together." eyes and stare blankly at the °Mors and Utter no word, " did. it, Reub ?" whispered the wife. Dan. Meachem, I reckon," he replies. " Him went to town today on his rnewl. Rim's just that honery." They handeuffed him and hurried him awav. The children drop back on. their pillows and fall asleep again and the wo- man blows out her candle and seeks her bed. Dan Meachem is the constable at the erose -roads hamlet, three miles away. The woman could recall two or three other cases in which he was believed to have been guilty of giving information, and as her heart hardenedshe said aloud: "11 they -all let Reub go it will be all right, but if they put him in prison Dan Meathera shall die," There WAS no more thinking, or won. dering, or planning. She said she would do thus and so. Her resolution was un- changeable. She hoped her husband would return that day, but he au not, Days passed, and at the end of a week a neighbor told her that the Government had a case against Reub and would hold him for trial. She aid not fling herself down and weep. Her eyes were not even moist as she turned to her children and said calmly: t i Chldren, yo'r pop's gwine ter be shet up in jail fur a right smart while, and it's no use to look fur him." '1 What's jail?" asked. one in a dreamy way, "Plane fur pore fairs who try to make o livinh Scatter off to bed now, 'cause yo'r main wents to think." She sat in front of the log fire with her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand until they were fast asleep. Then she rose and reached down the long -bar- reled rifle from its resting -place on the deer horns. It was loaded. She drew the charge, -wiped the barrel clean and re- loaded. Her face had worn an expression of sadness as she sat looking into the fire. She had no sooner taken down the rifle than a dangerous gleam came to her eyes, an4 she shut her teeth so hard that her breathing was labored. "They -all ar' gwine to hang to Reub," she said as she replaced the gun, "and to-naorrer I'll ambush Dan Meachem." That settled it. She was abed and asleep twenty minutes later. In the morning she would shoot the man who betrayed her husband to the officers. Why nob? An eye for an eye had always been her maxim. Of course she would shoot him. He no doubt expected her to A Moonshiner's Wife. At midnight there came a sudden knocking at the door of the mountaineer's cabin. "Who's thar ?" "Open the door, Bush! I have five men with me, and it's no use for you to resist. le we have to fire into the win- dows some of your family will he killed." " come out. What ails ye -all, anyway ?" "We for moonshining, Bush." "Ruh! Ihn not skeart of that. Yo' - all would a -showed more sense to come by daylight. Reub Bush hain't been a -hid - in' from nobody." A deputy United States marshal and posse on the one side and the owner of a twenty -acre farm on the other. There's a still hidden away in some gorge in the mountains, but the marshalte men have spent days and days in a vain search, Some one has given iaforination that Reub Bush is a moonshiher, however, and he ie to be carried off to jail in hope that a case inay be worked up against him. In ten Minutes the naoonehiner is ready to go with the posse. He betrays neither indignation nor sueprite. lis wife has few questions to ask and no tears are shed. His three children have been eroused from Sleep, but they rub their do so. She never slept more soundly. After breakfast next morning she said to the children, as she opened the door to go out: " Mam's gwine to the cross-roads. Yo' all kin keep the cabin while I'm gone." Dan Meachem was hoeing corn in a field half a mile from. his house. At 10 o'clock, as he reached. the west end of a row and leaned on his hoe to rest for a moment, a tongue of flame darted out from the bushes, a rifle cracked and. the man fell dead, shot through the heart. "1 said I would, anal hey, " whispered Reub Bush's wife as she stood up and looked over the hazel b-ushes at the man lying on his back three rods away. "Dan was onery. Him give Reub up. Him deserved. it." At noon she was horo.e with her chil- dren. They were not observing children., or they would have noticed her pale face and compressed. lips. She had work to do, but she laid it aside and sat down on th.e doorstep with her pipe. She hadshot a man. She was waiting for men to come and arrest her for the crime. She had been seen on the highway with the rifle on her shoulder, and no doubt she would at once be suspected. Very well, let them come. An hour before sunset an officer drove up. " Howdy, Mrs. Bush?" Meetly, Tom ?" "Got to go with me fur shootin' Dan Meachem." She put on her sun -bonnet, refilled and lighted her pipe and was ready. The thildren betrayed no curiosity, asked. no questions. As she followed the officer out to the waggon she said: " Yo'all shut up the cabin an' go over to Uncle Jim's. They -all is gwine te hang yo'r mam fur shootin' Dan Mea- cham." She climbed over the wheel to a seat and was driven away, never once glanc- ing backward—not a word to the man who was driving her to her death. of the fifth day Frank returned late te his tent, troubled about his inan's safety and worn out with the duties of the day. In front of the tent he found a limp, draggled speeimen of the genus home, class Ethiopia, erotiehing over the fire, nursing a, wounded arm—Zeph ! The peer fellow arose, and, muttering some- thing about '1 dat Yankee bullet," hands ed a euriously-shaped package to his master. It was wrapped in a. piece of begging that was fastened with a thorn. With tremblingfingers the captain seized it, tore off the strange wrapping and re- vealed—her answer I A pito knot ! Heroism of Women, Man is the stronger sees undoubtedly, but -which is the more heroic? The very fact that we can ask this question after the preliminary statement ehows that woman is, Heroism means to triumph over your own weaknesses, your own in- firmity, over the pressure of circum- stances around you, over temptations, dangers and difficulties. he silent work- ers, the noble martyrs to prineiple, the uncomplaining household drudges who sacrifice themselves for husbands, broth. ers and children, and do it not in the face ofan a.drairing audieiace, not to win the plaudits of the crowd, not to be cbronieled in story, but simply and un- osteni aniously in the line of daty—these are the true transfigured band of hero- ines, greater than any epic heroes who conquer heroically or heroically fall. Yet eTell in the more obvious sorb of hero- ism, even in the storm and. stress of worldly action, even as military leaders, as conquerors, as potentates, women have inscribed their names on the most vali- ant pages of history. We have all read stories of Zenobia, of Semiriamis, of De- borah., of Joan of Are. We have all heard of Artemisia, queen of Carla, in whom Xerxes boasted that he had found ablescbravest counsellor and chief. Her whose conduct at the battle of Sala- mis wrang from him the exchimation that his men were behaving like women, his women like men, little knowing that the highest compliment he could. pay his women was that they were behaving like true women. We remember how. when Calms, queen of Carcassone, was besieg- ed in that town by the Saracens, and they in tlaeir masculine pride, taunted her for that she should be spinning and not fighting, she threw the taunt into their faces by appearing in their very midst with a lance wreathed around, dis- taff like, with hemp, which she had set aflame, a,nd how ingloriously they fled from her. In more recent history a less familiar instance is that of Lady Dumont:ad. Her husband, while in command of the Mil- ian Rea, got becalmed in his flagship under a battery, whence he was assailed with redhot shot. In the face of that ter- rible fire the gunners retreated from their posts. Neither threats nor entrea- ties were of avail. If the fire were not returned the ship must inevitably be destroyed with all on board. Lord Dun- donald went down to the cabin where his wife lay. "If a woman sets the example," he cried, "the men. will be shamed out of their fear. It is our only hope." With- out a wordshe rose and followed him. As she stepped on deck she seemed to be confronted by a flaming furnace of fire, belching out death and destruction. She calmly took a match and fired the gun, which Lord Dundonald pointed. The men were shamed. They returned to their posts. The battery was silenced; the ship and its crew were saved. One of the greatest achievements of mascu- line heroism has always been held to be the defence of the pass at Thermopylae. Modern historians have thrown grave doubt upon the whole episode. They doubt that there were only 8001they doubt whether all or even the majority of Leonidas' troops remained to be slain. But no historian has thrown any doubt upon the story of the 280 peasant women of Switzerland, who during the French invasion of 17982 rushed te, arms in re- sponse to the patriotic eloquence of aged Martha Glen and defended. their homes unti1180 of them had been killed and all the rest more or less wounded. These and similar stories show that in the more obvious forms of heroism, in the smoke and. dust of battle women can play and have played as glorious a part as the most intrepid of their brethren—nay, that they have frequently put their brethren to the blush. In peace also wo- man's victories have been no less glori- ous thaii those won in war. The stories of Grace Darling, of Florence Nightin- gale, of Sister Gertrude, are all familiar instances. A great deedproperly recorded lifts the heart to God; it brushes aside the vale of prose in wheel our daily life is shrouded. It shows that beneath the vale lies the poetry, the romance, the awful beauty of the godlike heart that makes us one with God. It teaches us to think better of ourselves and better of our fellows when we find that a responsive chord within all of us thrills at the mention of a worthy deed. But what of the unchron- icled deeds greater than even those that have been recorded? Men live before the world; they take part in the exter- nal struggle of daily life; their deeds do not so often as those of Women fall un- noticed by their fellows. But women, who are even more heroic than the most heroic men, do and suffer in silence. Theirs is th.e sacred solitude in evhich they coene face to fece not with man, but with God. Theirs is the true pathos and sublimity of human life. Shall we sine of heroes, of conquerors, of martyrs wee have given their bodies to the flames and build no lofty rhymes for those who have experienced the cross and not worn the crown of glory? Shall we miss the high impetus that is afforded by the ehronicle of deeds that have illaminated the sanc- tuaries of private life? To a certain ex- tent -we must. The inner conflicts that flncl 310 expression through smiling lips, how otherwise may they be expressed? Much of the most bles, ed side of human life and human experience we can only guess at; we can never truly know. Let us look around us end about us and see that the chosen are still with us; that the heart that beats to -day under calico dresses, in humble tenements and in lowly surroundings, is the same herb that beats under the coat of mail of Joan of Arc amid all the pomp of war—the infinite, all encompassing heart of true womanhood. Her Answer (Pine Knot). Alter two days' hard riding and. dodg- ing of Yankee cavalry, Captain Frank Barrett was very near his ideal of Para- dise. That is to say, he was in the par- lor of Colonel Selton's mansion, kneeling beside a rocking chair in which was seat- ed fair Mistress Marie Belton. A solitary tallow -dip was the only witness of the scene. He opened his lips to tell her the love that impelled him to take that foolhardy ride, when the door was flung hastily open. His servant rushed in crying: "Ds Yankees is comin' ! Run, Males Frank! Po' Gawd's sake! l'se done got de hooses at de back doh" With a fierce oath, Captain Frank sprang to his feet. Pausing, he stooped suddenly and kissed Marie, then, without O word, dashed through the hall, leaped on his horse and rode for his life. A squad of Yankees turned the comer of the house in time to witness his flight, and, firing a Tolley after him, they gave chase. As the bullets hummed around him, the captain only bent a little lower in the saddle and urged his horse to greater speed. Closely pursued at first, he finally distanced his enemies and de- cided to cut across country and join his regiment. Fortunately, he fell in with his company the next night. In spite of the fact that he was glad to be with his men again he was nnhappy, for he was uncertaixe how his suit had prospered. Marie was looking towards the door -when he stole that kiss, and afterwards poor Frank groaned in bitterness of spirit. There were weeks of hard fighting on hand; he timid not apply for leave. As for a letter—here he groaned again. It was in the last days of the Confederacy, and the voice of the greenback was scarce in the land. Captain Frank had not a cent in the world, and, as he knew, weld neither beg nor borrow a bit of paper. He was almost. in despair, when an idea struck him ; with an exclamation of de- light he hastened to an adjacent wood- pile and procured a pine chip. He smoothed it off and wrote on one side of the chip in pencil "1" and on the other side "thee "—I pine for, thee ! He ealled his man ZePh and gave him the chip, with orders tie take it to Mise Seitoti and beiag her aneWer. Zepli eon- cealed it in his clothes; promised to re- turn in three days mil vanished in the wtiods. Three days passed, four, five, still Zeph did not retitin. On the night man or child pas deg eastward 04410t0a OW point for Mr. A., those .going 'west- ward for Mr, B. A red-haired worean eounted five, a negro ten and a clog twenty. In order to be counted every man, woman and dog must pass eatirely beyond the limits of the street bonuclary of the hotel on the same side of the street on which the hotel was situated, but dogs were allowed the privilege of the Medway so long as they did not get on the oppo- site sidewalk. One hundred points cen- stituted the game. At 12 o'clock 110011 the game was called and A scored two on a cou le of drygoods clerks from one of the two neighborin stores. B tallied three on a -woman wit Iwo ehildren. Eight men, thve boys and O lady shopper added twelve to A's score, and B scooped in sixteen on a colored muse wheeling a baby carriage, three lawyers and the mayor and his wife. Traffic maned for a moment when a, hack drawn by a white horse dashed by going eastward, and A. called out : "Tally me five." "What for?" asked B. "A, red-headed girl," responded A, "I don't see any red-headed girl," said. B. "Oh, but you are a chump," replied. A. "Don't you see that white horse ?" And sure enough a red-heaeed sehool-girl wended her way by the hotel on her way home. "Nineteen, nineteen," called. the scorer ar d the stakes were &gabled. B was the first to score after the tie, adding two men, a lady and two telegraph boys but he was quickly passed by A., who drew a dog, a negro and an Italian organ grinder with a monkey. Here a dispute arose. A claimed that the monkey should count the same as a dog, but was willing to compromise on an allowance of a negro's score. B refused to allow any- thing, as the monkey was not m.entioned in the catalogue of countable objects. The bartender of the hotel had been ap- pointed referee on account of bis SuBi- vanion physique, and he promptly al- lowed A five, by splitting the difference between the allowances of a white man and the negro. Score, A 52, B 24, B was falling behind, but he was game, and there was not a tremor in his rocked- in-the-eradle-of-the-deep bass voice when he called for a tally of nine on account of O bevy of typewriters, four of whom were brunettes and one a strawberry blonde. A policeman counted one (it ought to have counted game, they are so scarce) for A. A ray of hope lit up B's counte- nance as he saw a shepherd dog coming from the eastward alongside a butcher's wagon, but it almost instantly vanished, for just as the dog reached the eastern boundary of the hotel front the dog's at- tention was called to another canine, who was disporting himself on the oppo- site sidewalk, and, with a bark of recog- nition, he hastened to join bow -wow No. 2. and together they raced. along the wrong sidewalk until the western bound- ary was reached, when they once more took to the middle of the road. "Just my luck," quoth B, and the scorer called out: "A 56, B 88." Hardly had the scorer made the an- nouncement, when it became evident that there was something in the wind. to the east of the hotel. T wo doors below was a saloon, where five -cent whisky was the attraction' and one of the habitues having strucka good game, had imbibed five drinks in rapid. succession and, as a natural result, he became boisterous and started ili to disfigure the bartender. He was promptly fired out and, a crowd of men and boys flocked from. all directions to witness the "shindig." Twenty-eight men and eleven boys came from west- ward andd, passed the hotel. thus making A's score ninety-five, while not a soul went in the opposite direction. A now needed but five points, while B was a long distance on the wrong side of the half mile post. A was jubilant and sent the bell boy to the barroom to order a pousse-cafe. B had lost fihl hope and had made up his mind to drink nothing but beer when there came to his ears the sound of muffled drums and the weird strains of a funeral dirge. He pricked up his ears, looked to the westward. and there, sure enough, in the roadway was a brass band heading a funeral procession, and on the sidewalk coming toward the hotel, in a column of fours, headed. by the regulation officers, was a lodge of col- ored Knights Templar. A's jaw dropped on his breast and the ;corer shouted "B -wins in a walk." AN BXDITIND CONTEST'. ' A New Gable or Absorbing Interest foe Hotel Loungers. Two well-known actors sat iii the office of the principal hotel in a small eity some time ago., and for the perpose of killing time devised a name whieh they played for drinks. Th•ry called the genie "The Passing Regiment ." The betel was situ- ated in the middle of the bloat On the mein street of the city, Every man, WO. O good boy ?" Mother Gooee Melodies is a natiiral book, in the ss xis() that it is the expressiou of the instinet iron' whieh baby.tallt sprinp. It is not an intellect- ual exereise, but it is an exercise of affee- tion. It charms the nascent Sense of rhythm, and suggeets fautenies WIWI to A hearer "trailing clouds of glory are not nonsense. Those impressions are not readily recalled in later life, but the An- cient tales and gayety of the nursery are as persistent as other great facts. The crusade against fairy lore is like the cru- sade against the stage. Auld. Lang Syne, A. fog was on the Thames. The lights along the quay were Wettest ia chill an The tide was running, and its moan and sob and sigh suggested to my mind a direly lighted room, a little coffin and a haggard -woman kneeling. 1 sat upon the taffeail of a ship, and as I looked upon tbe great- est city of the world asleep, and thought of how the lilies bloomed and beautified its slums, and gaudy poppies grew upon the richest lawns of Little Dorritt and of Becky Sharp. of Chatterton, his ininger and his tragic death, and of Beau Brum. mel's empty head and empty heart—as painful paradoxes such as these came crowding in my mind, Iturned my glance upon tlae Thames and said "Now, in tl30 name of God and justice, take these peeple out, into the sea and bid them go to other lands -where virtue, purity and merit find reward." The thought was barely formulated when I heard a sound across the water that seemed to come in answer to my invocation, " Clack-elack- claelaelack-elack," It was a steamer's capstan, and the metal paws in sharp, vibrating intonation on the brakes told me that the heavy non chain would soon be taut. A breeze came up the riverand the fog was slowly lilting. I discovered a mighty vessel lying on the stream. I heard a sailor's song, almost a wail it was— 'The anchor is weighed. the anehor is weighed;" and growing louder with the repetition, the word e soon drowned the noise of cap- stan and of creaking cable in the hawse. Up through the hatches rushed a motley crowd—half-clad men and boys, and wo- men with the r babes held in their arms; young girls, unmindful of their bare and glistening feet and heedless of their naked limbs, and toddling children. A thous- and souls came up into the night and stood upon the decks, teneath the hang- ing lamps. The sailor ceased his song. The regular staccato of the capstan came again. A ragged man, wild -looking and unkempt, sprang on the rail, and, taking off his shabby hat, sent forth in pure aud silvery tenor voice: " Should mild acquaintance be forgot. And never brought to min.'? Should auld acquaintance be foixot, And days o' auld lang syne 2' I have heard five thousand voices Sing in swgigerfest "Die Wacht am Rhine;" I heard the Marseilles sung by an angry mob, and once, in Denver. Col., -with Lo- gan at their head, I heard the battle hymn of th.e republic sung by veterans of the war; but never did my heart throb so tumultuously as when I saw these -women hold their babes aloft, -with faces to the quay, men weep unconcealingly, and lit- tle children with their faces searedsand pale, and. heard. the wondrous chorus of their voices singing "Auld Lang Syne." Slowly as they sang the great ship swung around, and, with the ensign floating in the gentle breeze, went out against the tide. A boan that left her side was rowed across our bows. " Boat ahoy!" cried. I. "Iloilo !" "What ship is that?" "She's the Australia." "What is she?" "Emigrant, sir; the biggest one afloat; she's outward bound, for New South Wales." " My God I" I thought, "how these poor people love their native land!" Somehow my heart felt kindlier toward the sleeping city. With all its painful paradoxes, its sorrows and its wces, Crom- well's harsh religion or Charley Stuart's lust, the British of oak well love old England still. Must Mother Goose Go? The sweet credulity of the nursery ac- cepts Mother Goose without speeulation or enquiry. When and where she lived, whether there were a Father Goose and little goslings, the rapt audience of her rhymes does not ask. They are the fast ver -e, except some now I lay we down to sleep," which the children hear, and they find in the rhymes nothing strange or extravagann. They do not laugh nor disbelieve. Little jack. Horner and little Miss Muffet are as authentic personages as their own companions Lucy and Mary Jane, and that the cow jumped over the moon is no more surprising than. that she came in to be milked or chewed the cud.. From the domain of Mother Goose the child glides into the world of faery, and beholds Jack the Giant -Killer and Tom Thumb and Cinderella and Jack of the Bean -Stalk, and enters the lovely realm of the Sleeping Beauty and Graeiosa and Percinet and Beauty and. the Beast. It is a realm of endless charm. Reiteration does tot tire, and the young mind teems with the fond fancies that outlast many a sober thought and serious purpose, and seem to the man a preliminary phantas- magoria of life and human character. But the child is neither a humorist nor a moralist, and when, still later, he OOMeS to read Pope's Homer and the mythologic tales, it is with the same uninquisitive wonder that he heard that the mouse ran up the clock, and the legend of the house that Jack built. Elia's protest against the moral tales than, sought to supersede the love of the nursery, and to transform that Barataria into an infant school, sprang from sympathetic instinct. "The children of Alien call Bartrutn father," and although her quaint lover went un- mated to his grave. his love of ehildren made him their interpreter, and stiiged his protest against the ruthless endeavor to despoil childhood's- prieeless possession —the world. of faery. The old. question has been letely asked anew : "Why fill the infant mind with images of cruelty and horror? Why suggest to innocence the dreadful visioa of ogres fattening eaptives like sheep for there table ? Why torture it with that appalling cabalistic bloody invoeetion—Fee, caw, ? Why permit the hoary murderer Blue neara to terrify the young before in historical se- quenee they reach Henry the Eighth, in no extenuating page of Fronde, but as the grisly murderer and defender of the faith of the older annals? And why perplex the callow pilgrim scarcely embarked oiz the jeers -ley of life, whieh the reverend atid the wise deseribe as a moral warfare, by the rhyme whieh declares the greedy thief Of a phut from the eopiods pudding When Baby was sick, we gave her Castoria. Nirhen she was a Child, she cried for Casteria. When she became Miss, site dung to Castoria, When she had Children, she gave them Castoria, Did You Rnow This? A newspaper cannot be run to suit the individual tastes of its readers. It should be treated as a bill of fare—you take the things you like and leave the things you dislike. +75 eat are berrer When in a de with. L. ENE ? or1hejare RGE from gRERSE 21hot are eas;ly di. 9ested. Shorten Ali COok1r19 pu.rpos o.r-rof- m ris beret- t,tetot ))14,rer ikatt fard. Made only by The PC K. Fairbank Company, Wellington alld Ann St**