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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1894-11-1, Page 9THE OARSMAN DEFEATED, TIIE MEN ROWED irAED. linage Points out the Helpless - Dees of Man, and Contrasts with It the 1sower and Willie guess or Christ Rev. Dr. Talmage, who is still absent Qu his round -the -world. toar, has selected as the subjecb of to -day's sentient, through the press : "The Garman Defeated," the text chosen being Jonah 1: 13, 14: "The men rowed hard to bring it to the land ; but they could not; wherefore they cried unto the Lord." Navigation in the Mediterranean Sea •alwaye was periloas, especially so in early times. Vessels were propelled aearely by sail and partly by oar. When, by reason, of great sbress of weather, it was necessary to reef the canvas or haul it in, then. the vessel was entirely depend- ent upon the oars, sometimes twenty or thirty of them on either side the vessel. You would not venture outside your • harbor with such a craft as my text finds Sonah sailing in; but he had not much choice of vessels. He was running away from. the Lord, and when a man is run- ning away from the Lord he has to run very fast. God had told Jonah to go to Ninevale to preach about the destruction of that city. jonah disobeyed. That always makes rough water, whether in. the Medi- terrartean, or the Atlantic, or the Pacific, or the Caspian Sea. It is a very hara thing to sears sailors, I have seen them, when the prow of the vessel was almost under water, and they were walking the deck knee-deep in the serf, and. the small boats by th.e side of the vessel bad been crushed as small as kindling wood, whistling as though nothing had hap- pened; bat the Bible says that these mariners of whom. I speak were frighten - •ed. That which sailors call "a lump of a see," had. become a blinding, deafening, swanaping fury. How mad the wind can gat at the water, and the water can get at the wind, you do not know unless you have been spectators. I have in ray house a piece of the sail of a ship, no larger than the palm of my hand; that piece of eanvass was all that was left of the largest sail of the ship Greece, that went into the storra two hundred miles off Neerfoundland. Oh, what a night that was! I suppose it was in some such storm as this that Allah was caught. He knew that the tempest was on his account, and he asked the sailors to throw hun overboard. Sailors are a gen- erous-heartea race, and they resolved to fr make their escape, if possible, without resorbing to such extreme measures. The sails are of no use, and so they lay hold of their oars. I see the long bank of shining blades on either side of the ves- sel. Oh ! how they did pull, the bronzed seamen, as they laid back onto their oars. But rowing on the sea is very different from rowing upon a river; and as the vessel hoists, the oars skip the wave and miss the stroke, and the tempest laughs to scorn the flying paddles. It is of no uss, no use. There comes' a wave that crashes the last mast, and sweeps the oarsmen from their places, and tumbles everything in the confusion of impend- ing shipwreck, or, as my text has it, "The men rowed hard to bring it to the land; but they could not; wherefore they cried unto the Lord." This scene is very suggestive to me, and I pray God I may have grace anel strength enough to represent it intelli- gently to you. Years ago I preached a sermon on another phase of this very subject, and I got a letter from Houston, Texas, the writer saying that the read- ing of that sermon in London had led him to God. And I received another letter from South Australia, saying that the reading of that sermon in Australia had brought several souls to Christ. And then, I thought, why not now take an- other phase of the same sabject, for per- haps that God who can raise in power that which is sown in weakness may now, through another phase of the same sub- ject, bring salvation to the people who shall hear, and salvation to the people who shall read. Men and women who know how to pray, lay hold of the Lord God Almighty, and wrestle for the bless- ing. Bishop Latimer would stop sometinies in his sermon, in the midst of his argu- ment, and say, "Now, I will tell you a tale;" and to -day I would like to bring the scene of the text as an illustration of raost important religious truth. As those Mediterranean oarsmen trying to bring Jonah ashore were discomfited, I have to tell you that they were not the only men who have broken down on their paddles, and have been obliged to •call on the Lord for help. I want to say that the 'unavailing efforts of those Medi- terranean oarsmen have a counterpart in the efforts we are making to bring souls to the shore of safety and set their feet on the Rook of Ages. You have a father, or mother, or husband, or wife, or child, or near friend who is not a Christian. There have been times when you have been in agony about their salvation. A minister of Christ whose wife was dying without any hope in Jesus, walked the floor, wrung his hands, cried bitterly, and said, "I believe I shall go insane, for know she is not prepared to meet God." And there may have been days of sick- ness in your household, when you feared it would be a fatal sickness; and how -closely you examined the face of the doc- tor as he mine in and scrutinized the patient, and felt the pulse, and you fol- lowed him into the next room, and said, "There isn't any danger, is there, doc- tor?" And the hesitation and the un- certainty of the reply made two eterni- ties flash before your vision. And thea you went and talked to the sick one about the great future. Oh, there are -those here who have tried to'bring their friends to God They have been unable to bring there to the shore of safety. They are no nearer that point than they were twenty years ago. Yon think you have got them almost to the shore, wheu you are swept back again. What shall you do? Put down the oar? Oh, no I do not advise that, but I do advise you to appeal to that God bo whom the .Medi- terraneen oarsmen appealecl—the God Who could silence the tempest and bring the ship in safety to the port, I tell you, my friends, that there has got to be a e .good deal of praying before our families are brought to Christ. Ah! it is an awful thing to leave half a household on one side of the line, and the other part of the household on the other side of the line! Two vessels parb on the ocean of eternity, one going to the right and the other to the left—farther apart, and farther apart —until the signals oease to be recognized, and there are only two specks on the horizon, and then they are lose to sight 'torever I I have to tell you that the unavailing efforts of these Mediterranean oarsmen have a counterpart in the efforts some of us are making to bring oar children to the shore of Safety. There never were so many temptabions fon young people as there are now. The literary and soeial influences sewn to be against their spirit- ual interests, Christ seems to be driven almost entirely from the school and the pleasurable •conoeurse, yet God knows how anecioue we are for our children. We cannot think of going into heaven with- out them, We do not want to leave this life while they are tossing on the waves of temptation and away from God. From which of them could we consent to be eternally separated? Would it be the sou? Would it be the daughter? Would it be the eldest? Would it be the young- est? Would it be the orse that is well' and stout, or the one that is sick? Oh, I hear some parent saying to -night, "I have tried my best to bring my children to Christ. I have laid hold of the oars until they bent in my grasp, and I have braced myself against the ribs of the boat, and Lhave pulled for their eternal rescue, but I can'tget thena to Christ," Then I ask you, to imitate the men of the text and cry mightily unto God. We want more importunate praying for chil- dren, sueh as the father indulged in when he had tried to bring his six sons to Christ, and they had wandered off in- to dissipation. Then he got down in his prayers and said, "Oh, God! take away ray life, if through that means my sons may repent and be brought to Christ;" and the Lord startlingly answered the prayer, and in a few weeks the father was taken away, and through the solem- nity the six sons lied unto God.. Oh, that father could afford to die for the eternal welfare of his children ! Be rowed hard to bring them to the land, bat could not, and then he cried unto the Lord. There are parents wno are almost dis- couraged about their ehildren. Where is your son to -night? He has wandered off, perhaps, to the ends of the earth. It seems as if he cannot get far en,ough away from your Christian counsel. What does he care aboat the furrows that some to your brow, about the quick whitening of the hair; about the fact that your back begins to stoop with the burdens? Why, he would not care much if be heard you were dead! The black -edged letter that brought the tidings he would put in the same package with other let- ters telling the story of his shame. What are you going to do? Both paddles broken at the middle of the blade, how OEM you pull ashore? I throw you one oar now with which I believe you can bring him into the harbor. It is the glorious promise, "I will, be a God to thee, and to thy seej after thee." Oh, broken- hearted father and mother, you have tried everything else, now make an ap- peal for the help and omnipotence of the covenant -keeping God! and perh.ape at your next family gathering—perhaps on Thanksgiving Day, perhaps next Christ- mas day—the prodigal may be home; and if you crowd on his plate more luxuries than on any other plate at the table, I am sure the brothers will not be jealous, but they will wake up all the music in the house, "because the dead is alive again, and because the lost is found." Perhaps your prayers have been answered already. The vessel may be coming homeward, and by the light of this night's stars that absent son may be pacing the deck of the ship, anxious for the time to come when he can throw his arms around your neck and ask for for- giveness for that he has been wringing your old heart so long. Glorious reunion! that will be too sacred for outsiders to look upon; but I would just like to look through the window when you have all got together again, and are seated at the banquet. Though parents may in covenant be. And have their heaven in view; They are not happy till they see Their children happy too. Again, I remark that the unavailing effort of the Mediterranean oarsmen has a counterpart in the effort which we are making to bring this world back to God, His pardon, and safety. If this world could have been saved by human effort, it would have been done long ago. John Howard took hold of one oar, and Carey took hold of another oar, Adoniram Jud- son took hold of another oar, and Luther took hold of another oar, and John Knox took hold of another oar, and they pulled until they fell back dead from exhaus- tion. Some dropped in the ashes of martyrdom, some on the scalping -knives of savages, and some into the plague - stuck room of lazaretto; and still the chains are not broken,and still the des- potisms are not demolished, and still the world is unsaved. What then? Put down the oars and make no effort? I do not advise that. But I want you Chris- tian brethren, to understand. duet the church, and the school,and the college, and the missionary society are only the instrumentalities; and if this world is ever done at all, od must do it, and He will do it, in answer to our prayer. "They rowed hard to bring it to the land, but they could not; wherefore they erred unto the Lord." Again, the unavailing effort of these Mediterranean oarsmen has a counter- part in every man that is trying to row his own soul into safety. When the Eternal spirit flashes upon us our condi- tion, we try to save ourselves. We say, "Give me a stout oar for my right hand, give me a stout oar for ray left hand, and I will pull myself into safety." No. A wave of sin eonaes and. dashes you one way, and a wave of temptation comes and dashes you in another way, and there are plenty of rocks on winch to founder, but seemingly no harbor into which to sail. Sin must be thrown over- board, or we 3:east perish. There are men 'who have tried for years to become Chris - tient. They believe all I say in regard to a future world. They believe that re- ligion is the first, the last, the infinite necessity. They do everything but trust in Christ. They make sixty strokes in a minute. They bend forward with all eaxnestness, and they lie back until the muscles are distended, and yet they have not made one inch in ten years toward Heaven. What is the reason ? That is not the weer to go to work. You might as well take a frail skiff and put it down at the foot of the Niagara, and then head it up toward the chinning thunderbolt of waters, and expeet to work your way up through the lighning of the foam into alm Lake toe, as for you to try to pnil yourself through the sorf of your sin into the hope, and pardon, and placidity of the Gospel.. You can not do it in that way.Sin is a 'rough sea, and the long- boat, yawl, pinnacle and gondola go down unless the Lord deliver; but if you dry to Christ and lay hold of divine mercy you are as safe from eternal con- demnation as thoughfrou had, been twenty years in heaven. wish t eould put 'before My empardort- ed readers their own helplessness. No human arm Was ever strong' enough to unlook the door of heaven. No foot was ever stroag enough to break the shaelele of sin. No pampan swarthy enough to row himself into God's harbor, The winene againetyou, The tide is against you. The law is against you, Ten thousand corrupting infieences are against you. Helpless and undone, Not so helpless a sailor on a plank, mid- Atlantie. Not so helpless a traveller girded by twenty miles of prairie on fire. Peeve it, you say. I will prove it. john 6; 14 --"No man can some to Me except the Father which hath sent Ile draw him." But while I have shown your helpless- ness, 1 want to put by the side of it the power and 'willingness of Christ to save you, I think it was in 1686 a vessel was bound for Portugal, but it was driven to pieces on an unfriendly coast. The cap- tain had his son with him, and with the crew they wandere& up the beach, and started on the long journey to find re- lief. After a while the son fainted by reason of hunger and the length of the way. The captain said to the crew, "Carry ray boy for me on your should- ers." They carried hini on., but the journey was so long that after awhile the crew fainted from. hunger and from weariness, and could carry him no long- er. Then the father rallied his almost wasted energy and took up his own boy, and put him on his shoulder, and marled him on mile after mile, mile after mile, until overcome himself by hunger and weariness he, too, fainted by the way. The boy lay down and died, and the father, just at the time rescue same to him, also perished, living only long enough to tell the story—sad story, in- deed! But glory be to God that Jesus Christ is able to take us up out of our shipwrecked and dying condition, and put us on the shoulder of His strength, and by the omnipotence of His Gospel bear us on through all the journey of this life, and at last through the opening gates of heaven! He is mighty to save. Though your sin be long and black, and inexcusable, and outrageous, the very moment you believe I will proclaim par- don—quick, full, grand, unconditional, uncoraproraising, illimitable, infinite. 031, the grace of God! I am overwhelm- ed when I come to think of it. Give nis a thousand ladders, lashed fast to each other, that I may scale the height. Let the line rim out -with the anchor until all the cables of earth are exhausted, that we easy touch the depth. Let the arch- angel fly in cixeuit of eternal ages in trying to sweep around this theme. Oh, the grace of Godi It is so high. It is so broad. It is so deep. Glory be to God, that where man's oar gives out, God's arm begins! Why will ye carry your sins and your sorrows any longer when Christ oilers to take them? Why will you wrestle down your fears when this moment you might give up and be saved? Do you not know that every- thing is ready? Plenty of room at the feast. Jesus has the ring of His love all ready to put upon your hand. Come now and sit down, ye hungry ones at the -banquet. Ye who are swamped:by the breakers aroundyou cry to Christ to pilot you into smooth, still waters. On account of the peculiar phase of the subject, I have drawn my present illustrations, you see, chiefly from the water. I remember that a vessel went to pieces on the Bermudas a great many years ago. It had a vast treasure on board. But the vessel being sunk, no effort was made to raise it. After many years had passed a company of adventur- ers went out from England, and after a long voyage they reached the place where the vessel was said to have sunk. They got into'a small boat and hovered over the place. Then the divers went down, and ehey broke through what looked like a limestone covering, and the treasure rolled out—what was found afterward to be, in American money, $1,500,000, and the foundation of a great business house. At that time the whole world rejoiced over :what was called the luck of these adventurers. Oh, ye who have been row- ing toward the shore, and have not been able to reach it, I want to tell you to- night that your boat hovers over infinite treasure! -ell the riches of God are at your feet. Treasures thatnever tail, and crowns that never grow dim, Who will go down now and seek them? Who will dive for the pearl of great price? Who will be prepared for life, for death, for judgment, for the long eternity P See two hands of blood stretched out toward thy soul, as Jesus says: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." BO N JIBE'S LEGS. IS name was Eudore, and he found it a good one till it came to painting it in let- ters a foot long over the froiat of the grocery store; which was why the inhabit- ants of Rue Bonaparte be- held the new sign abbreviated to "E. Bonjard., Successor to Ris Father." Eudore, too, by all the bonnes of the neighborhood, was considered. personally a fine-looking fellow. Why, it would be hard to say; women have odd tastes, and in the grocery business, as in others, there are reputations whose source is as mysterious as that of the Nile. Eudore, as others saw him --with the aforesaid ladies of the sixth arrondisse- ment of Paris—was merely a brawny, broad -shouldered bourgeois, with red eye- lids, huge hands, and an air over -bear- ing and rough. The Bonjard store, as stated, was situ- ated in the Rue Bonaparte, immediately facing—a fact that has an important bearing upon this story—the Boole des Beaux Arts. It was there that the Ecole des Beaux Arts students purchased their black soap to cleanse their brushes, the sardines and sausages of their frugal lunehes—everything, indeed, that was not too dear in the grocery goods line. But they were not always so prompt as they should have been in settling the bills, which, very naturally, created. a lack of sympathy between Eudore and his artist clients. He treated then tart- ly, not to say disdainfally, when they came to his shop, not unfrequently thezn to repeat their demands twice before stopping to serve them. Sensible enough to recognize the barrier created between them by nature and art, the students, all the same, harbored malice for his rudeness, and Eudore, on his side, returned the hatred with inter- est. "Those animals of artists,". he called. them, "living by the hand of established people !P The cashier, clerks, porter and parcel boys, one and all, knew for Certainty they had heard them often enough, the grocee's sentiments in this roped and believed them unchangeable. Judge then of their eurpmse as time woe° on to observe a store of weeleening or modify- ing of Dudore's harsh opinion of his young neighbors, "Animals they were still, yes, lent some of them °tune of hop» orable families and haa fathers in trade; too, or so he was told." Intelligent, well to do, Nee creator of the "Bonjard Piekles andSauees," bend- ing his passion, always to the yoke of his principles, who would Italre believed that vanity would open. the road to (toupees the downfall of this man? But great events are often evolved from the simpl- est incidents. One day Eudore, reclining with superb eoatposure upon a keg of prunes his arms crossed on his loreast, his heed thrown bask, his left leg outstretched ou a soap box on the floor, chatted idly with a, student waiting the moment while they tied up for him his purohaae of a bottle of sour wine, Su.ddenly the student began to regard Eu.dore attentively:, to turn round and round him, squinting his eyes, wrinkling his brow, exhibiting, in short, every known symptom of amazed and respect- ful admiration, Recalled to himself at last by the voice of tb.e master of the house demanding what ailed him, the young artist cried. out, with a deep breath of emotion: " Zounds, M. 33onsard, but you should pride yourself upon your build! What a leg And taming to go, walking sidewise, his eyes still glued. to Euaore's extrem- ities, he murmured ones more, "What a beg!" To say that this incident seriously or unduly impressed Bonjard fibs, would be unjust, though once he did say to the cashier, seeking to fix a date in his mem- ory, "Dams! stupid., that day—that day —you know, when that paiater was so taken with the shape of ray beg!" Another time Eadore found himself the object of a flattering scratiny on the part of a young sculptor, also a student of the Ecole des Beaux Arts, a quiet, generous young fellow, of whom, as yet, the house of Bonjard had no reason to complain. "Your pardon, mousier," saidhe to the grocer, observing him watehing him, "but really you possess the most marvel - lois leg that I ever saw in my life, and I know a masterpiece when I see it, There isn't in the Academy of Antiques a statute with limbs of as pare and noble a mold as yours." "A fact, monsieur!" Eudore respond- ed, affably, "that has been noticed be- foree' "Parbleu! I believe you! They are superb! Ah, M. Bonjard, if the School of Design would but give us models like you!" • And the sculptor withdrew, leaving Eudore more moved than he eared to ap- pear. Daily, too, after this, he rubbed and swelled out the muscles of his calves, had his trousers' legs altered to fit skin tight, and event to the length of discard- ing his protecting apron the better to display his form. A month later the youngsculptor ems again, this time anorapanied by a com- rade. He had chosen an hour when the rush of business had calmed a little and M. Eudore Bonjard was lunching with his subordinates. Be was sorry, very sorry, to interrupt the repast, but the urgenay and importance of his errand must excuse him. "You cannot have forgotten, Mon - said he, "the impressionrecently produced upon me by the perfection of your form, judging by what I saw of it. I could not refrain from mentioning it to my comrades, who unanimously unite with me in regretting that you cannot pose for us in the atelier---' "Sir," interrupted Eudore, doubtful as to how he should receive these words "Unanimously regret," resumed the sculptor, "but we should n.ever, all the same, have dreamed but for the insist- ence of the class from whom we come in the name of art, of proposing such a thingto a man of your position, of de- manding of you a similar favor." "A favor? What, messieurs?" said Eudore, with a dignity that Louis XIV. might have envied. ow us to mold your legs.'' " Eh ? What did you say?" "To mold your begs; to copy them in plaster, to serve us as a model." "Like those—those members that I see carried to your school once in a while?" "Precisely, only far more beautiful. We'll give you, moreover, some of the castings, and you e.an sell them at a handsome profit." " Truly?" " Truly ; but see you, M. Bonjard, do not refuse us; it will be such a favor, and you will earn our eternal gratitude. Think, too, how your name will pass down to posterity; how, a hundred years from now, students of art will be copy- ing and modeling from the Bonjard. leg !" That settled it. Eudore now only sparred for time. " Will it—will it take very long, mes- sieurs?" said he. "Hall an houronaybe. You will do it, then? You will lend us your legs?" " Mon Dieu! how can I say no when I see you so set on it? I have always helped workers to the measure of my means, and,as it assists your studies, when, messieurs, will the operation take place ?" "To -morrow, between noon and one o'clock. My friend here will take charge of the work." • • 1 • That night Eudore slept badly, tossed. restlessly on his couch and rose next morning with a grave face and gesture of a general about to engage himself in a decisive battle. Prompt to the hour named he saw enter his back shop the visitor of the day before, surrounded by a horde of assistants, one carrying a hod or mortar -box, another a sack of plaster, a third a trowel, a fourth a pick, a fifth a pound or two of loose nails, a debris of broken hicks, bits of stone and ruined statues—enough material, in short, to have built a cottage, and of the most amazingly varied character. Eudore was surprised a,na far from at ease, seeing these preparations, but a word or two of flattery from the artists restored his confidence, and he set hims self to bare to the eye of the public the limbs so coveted by tut. Meanwhile a corps of zealous workers had been mixing a copious mortar, whicb they proceeded to apply, and apply liber- ally, leg et a time, to the majesbie mem- bers. Then upon the mortar they heaped a layer of tails, broken bricks and bits of stone, and on that again another layer of mortar, and so coa layer Man. layer, till they had built upon and erouna Eudora s legs and loins a yard thick of masonry, for the solidity of whieh they would lee able to answer, " o nob sten now, monsieur, please," said the direetor of the work, " the plas- ter Mlnit Set aad, harden, you see, or the oast will be epoiled, ,es. half hour, at most, and we'll' ceme to deliYer you, Behold the paper to read till our return; the time will Seern less long." And they departed, carrying their tools with them, but leaving a debris of sroaoleubriesah tialista, eimortar npon the freshly 4. quarter of an hour passed ; Eudore began to feel oxi. bit flesh a light Com- pression, a gentle, tingling. warmth, rather soothing then otherwise. Basle nese, too, had recemmenced in the shop: the culinary ladies had begun again their comingglibtand going, and calling for pepper iyeee.aaopftourir.. cehattles. Elidore heard them and tacks, salt and spices, Interlarding th.eir demands, from time to time, with astonished eoraments upon the eondition building, you have workmen in the house?" asked one of them pres- ently. "Workmen ? Oh, no, mademoiselle; it is only the stuff left over frora the pa- tron's operation." Stuif ! Operation! That was too mueh. Blame cried out angrily : "No, not Mlle. Phrasie, Joseph is wrong; he as a goose; it isn't an opera- tion, but molding that he means. Pene- trate here and you'll understand," Mlle. Phrasie "penetrated.," but un- rdiearsintaeand.ing as Mae as ever Redone ex- " He had lent himself to the artists, the Boole de Beaux Arts artists, you. know • they had begged so hard; he had feared' to refuse; it was certain, mbre- over, that nowhere else could they have found such legs as his." And while Bonjard talked and. talked, and Phrasie and her friends, who lead "penetrated" with her sought to under- stand, the pressure of the plaster had in- creased and become importunate. The legs ached and drew like a furious booth - ache, and, the mortar having hardened, were as immovable as the slabs of the Egyptian pyramids. A. vagae uneasiness was fast settling upon Eudore's spirits, when a cohert of students returned, demanding: "How it felt now?" "They burn," said the grocer, "ache and burn like fire; my legs. I can't stir them either!" "Wait, lotus see ; the mortar has set, doubtless," and they began,the traitors, to thump and prod, with wise looks and nods, the ffinty monument in which they had half entombed Eudora. "Yes, it had set eplendidly, perfectly, hard as a rock ! The cast would be a marvel; they would run to the atelier for the tools to release him—it wouldn't take a minute—and then they would thank, as he deserved., the generous man to whbra art owed so much :7' A minute, they had said.; an hour, two hours had fled, and no one came; the Ecole des Beaux Arts had closed for the night, and besides, if it hadn't, the stu- dents had given no names; Eudore did not know for whom to call. He rayed, he cursed, swore that he was dying, and shrieked alternately for a priest and the polies. The police came, and with the police the commissaire in his scarf and a crowd that wedged—full as a box of his own. matches—the Rue Bonaparte from end to and. But, to abridge useless details, a mason had at last to be summoned to demolish the construction that made Eudore a martyr. A demolition that required some time to accomplish and skinned the victim. Literally skinned him, for the torburers had used cement hauler than iron instead of plaster, and also carefully refrained from greasing the cuticle. To -day the Rue Bonaparte, the house of Bonjard, stands with closed and bolted doors. Eudore, unable to support the double ignominy of the three trouserless weeks on a hospital cot and the close proximity of that odious Ecole des Beaux Arts, has moved his legs, his soaps, sar- dines and sauces to a safer quarter. S PARTY "Don't you wish, mother, we were rich enough to give parties and to get invited to some in return?" Mattie Howard had closed the book she was reading with a dissatisfied sigh, and looking dreamily out of the window, ad- ded "to go to Florida -winters?" "It would. be nice, dear," answered leer mother. "We needn't have to be rich to have a party," said her brother, Melville, who was placing a nuzzle together on the floor. "I can get you up a s'prise party next week if you say so. Ohl I forgot, I must not tell you when it will be 'cause you are to be s'prised about it." "You need not bother yourself one bit, Mell Harwood. I would not be guilty of having a horrid old surprise party where all bring their owu cake and. peanuts. It seems a very cheap way of entertain- ing one's friends, I say." "It's better than not entertaining them any." "There, children, don't quarrel. You are both partly right and partly wrong. I have often thought that you need some lesson in receivingcompany of your i very own if only to nvite a boy or girl in to tea." "Tea parties are for girls. I don't want any part in it." "I don't think this house is fit for a party of any kind. It is too old and we haven't any china, silver or servants," said Mettle, glancing contemptuously around the big, old fashioned sitting MOM. "Well, Mettle," said her mother de- cidedly, "you must make up your mind to be contented with what you e,annot help and make the most of your situa- tion. You will make yourself and every one around you unhappy by having too high ideas. Emerson, that grand -Ails osopher, said: 'Don't hitch your wagon to a star.' Now, my dear, think not that because you cannot provide elegant en- tertainment you won't offer any. Simply do the best you Mrs. Harwood waited. lentil the evening lamps were lighted, the dishes washed, and Mattie had heard Melville recite his spelling lesson for the third -time. ""Now we will talk SOMA more about the party." Mettle felt in better humor this even- ing, for her papa had brought a pearl pocketknife home with him, telling Mate tie that it was for his Sunbeam to use at scbool when she sharpened leaapenoils. So she gave him a loving kiss and then wound her arra's about her mother's neck, saying: "I know it cannot help being nice if you have thought about "Thank you, dear; but as you said, we haven't any silver." "Don't say it, meenme. I'm sorry." forgive you, but let us see what our resourees are, What have we that fow in tOWil. poesess?'' "A cow ?" askea Mettle, "I know," answered Mall, "we heRe the best law, of anyone in this part ef the town. I was peeking eurrants one day leet summer, and 1 Saw tWO neele driviug by. They looked like ride old fellows too, 404, they 'Were thiVing $0 $101V 1 Wild Most see their eyes wink. Oue of them Said., ‘That'e the prettieet situation for a house I've seen in this sellvfllngea that lawn and those trees are u lalahri i tettyahcineeaway t of Wonder thaeWY4°ann'tcl. In"e thagt s lot to some one who can alfora Us put up respeetable residence.' 77 At this they all laughed. "We can have our tarty out doors, that is what you mean, Isn't it, marama? Why didn't I thiale of it? A gard.en party it will be, and that sounds SO t7show This 19ow Mattie's garden party happened to be planned, eeren if it was now windy March weather. Never,ahl the spring seem so long or the grass so slow about growing green to impatiexitMattio Mrs. Harwood. planted flower -seeds in boxes, that the gardens might have an early start, Grandpa and. Mell trimmed up the trees and shrubs. It was deeided to have the garden party the Lest week of the summer vacation. The in.vitations should be given to the members of Mat - tie's and Mell's class, including also some six or seven boys and girls in their irarae- diets neighboorhood. Grandpa, who had. always been. "handy with tools," made threiee.long tales which he said would be nice to lend when ch.urch folks had a pion "Now, if we only had a piano or organ !" exclaimed. Mattie the day before the party, as she was making lovely bouquets for the tables indoors and out- doors, "It seems as if we ought to have some music," she added, forgetting her resolve to be ccattented, "That's so, dearie " piped a shrill voice which belonged to Miss Sallie Perkins, a little woman who lived alone. "I've heard a good deal 'bout this garden party an' come to offer my services. Your ma will have her hands full, I reckon. See here how will this do for music? It will hero; liven things up a bit to set this agoing." Here Miss Sally quickly turned the cran.k and comically skipped around. the room with her music box playing a lively tune. "Lor sakes! I should. be dreadful lonesome if it wasn't for this. Why can't you ask Charlie Day to bring over his cornet and play a tune for ye s? Lor sakes! You needn't be without music if ye haven't a piens," "Thanks for the music box; I am glad you thought of it and of Charley's cor- net. I think he will:oblige us. And, 0 mother, we might have Mell drum oc- casionally for us!" The next morning Nettie woke very early to see if the dreaded rain -drops lurked in the sky. She was happy to find the sun shining brightly. There was yet a lot of work to do that afternoon, but Mettle had proved herself quite a help. Even Mellie had beaten eggs and cream- ed butter and. sugar for cake. He was also to pound the ice and turn the freezer for the ice cream. At the hour xaention- ed in the note of invitation Meade and Mellie stood at the garden gate ready to reeeive their guests. Mamma was sitting on the bit of piazz ready to give them the second word of greeting. The boys and girls at once entered into the enjoyment of the afternoon, some selecting swings, ha,mraoeks or croquet mallets. Mattie, who had dreaded some awkward move- ments at first, felt greatly relieved. She did her best to make all have a good time and see that none missed a share in the games. At 6 o'clock the tables were ready, and very tempting they looked to the forty-six; hungry children, whose healthful games in the pure air bad given excellent appetite. To Mattie's surprise, there were served things on the table that she had not heard planned in the menu. But a few kind neighbors had insisted on. sending something that would help Mrs. Harwood. "feed that troop of hungry children, as they could never undertake such a task alone.''' Then grandpa, like others bearing that dear name, wanted to do his part, and quietly ordered a quantity of fruit and bonbons from the city. "I'm glad we thought to have a garden. party, mamma," said Mattie after the last one had gone. "I mean to have an- other next year, don't yon, Mellie ?" "Of course I shall. I mean we shall., if mother will let us." "I hope you will dears," said. Mrs. Bar - wood., never once hinting how very tired she was. Is THE PLACE TO ATTEND if you want either a Business Education or a course in Shorthand. THE BEST IN CANADA. Handsome Annual Announcement free. Address.. C. A. FLEMING, Principal, Owen Sound, Ont A IITOIIIATIC NI131BERINE MACHINE. aet• Steel Figurer, Perfect Printing and Accu- rate Work.Forpricesaddress TORONTO TYPE FOUNDRY. Toronto and 'Winnipeg. 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