HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1923-11-1, Page 6Could tlat Sleep
ie WasNerus ur
T
eslassness is cued by the ner"
•Psits eystein becoiuig derauged, una
By Annie Hamilton Donaell.
O tho,se whose resia is brokea by
frightfel dreams, nightmares, sinking
smotheriag-seessations; to those
who wake up in the merniag
as tireC1 as when they went to bed,
we eai offer the old peacefal, undis-
turbed, refreshing,sleep back again,
if they will oniy.'ese Milburn's Heart
and. Nerve Pills. -
These Pillsbriisg, the ratichaneeded
night's rest backs by improving the
tone of the nerves aad strengthening
the heart, and iheroby making the
whole system wo;ls harnioash
'Ala's, W. J Biyee, Port s4,rthur,
Ont., writes: --"I was so nervous I
could not sleep- at night. I was
troubled with faint anddizzy spells,
7aervous heaclaehes, would start up in
my sleep and screens and jump up,
and the least little noise weuld put
sny nerves en edge. I went to see my
doctor and tried his medicine, but it
didn't seento do me any geed. Al
last I went to the drug store and goi
a box of 1Tilburn1s Heart aiacl Nerve
Pills, and when I found they were
doing me good. I continued their ese.
I have taken four boxes, and can no
lie down and sleep without any trate
blo, and have none of those dizzy an
•nerveus spells. I have eertatals
found your remedy to be a wonder
ful one." I
Milburn's Heart and Nerve Pillt
are 50c. a box at all dealers, or inaila
direct on receipt of price by The T
Milburn 0o., Ltd., Toronto, Ont.
FARM LIFE FOR
YOUNG FOLKS
7
Farming is more than a business.
It is also a life, a life which many
people who have had opportunity to
compare it with urban life greatly
prefer. Many of the people with this
viewpoint have been able to satisfy it
only after they have passed middle
life or, perhaps, have not sooner ap-
preciated the advantages of farm life.
Some have made their comparisons
while young and decided in favor of
the farm, regardless of the handicaps
involved.
If the experience of the older peo-
ple, who go back to the farm life
from -choice after middle life, is
worth anything, the young people
who make farm life their first choice
are on the righ.t track. From the
stancheses,f-.5-sf a Satisfactory and
bsome life, there can be no doubt
aBout it when the possibilities of
present farm living conditions are
considered. And, from a business
standpoint, they are making no mis-
take in the long run. While farm-
ing rnay not be on a par with some
other present business opportunities,
so far as immediate returnS are con-
cerned, it is a stable business in which
'average successes are probably more
numerous than are average successes
in most, other lines. It is not alone
in being subject to periods of depres-
sion, and it holds no hazard of unem-
ployment with which industrial and
office workers must ever contend.
All of these factors should be well
considered by young people who stand
at the fork of the road, where they
must choose between farm life in
God's open country and the possibility
of an unsatisfactory existence in the
crowded city.
,It is reported that since 1914 the
horse population of Russia has de-
creased about one-half. It is said
that approximately 16,000,000 of the
horses have been eaten by the people.
"Better washers for water faucets
can be made of cardboard than of
leather," says a plumber, "for the,
cardboard swells. when wet and pre-
vents leakage."
"Give thanks, oh, Heart of
mine, with very mirth for meed
To Him who gave us knowledge of
the cunning of the seed,
For beauty of the growing and the
joy of blossoming -
Arid granting of the harvest from
the promise of the Spring."
--Theodosia Garrison.
ny IN an n dr
ratold Agcy
From Backache)
Women are the greatest sufferers
from weak, lame and aching backs
owing to the continual stooping, bend-
ing and. lifting so necessary to per-
form their household duties, and these
backaches are caused, without a
doubt, by some derangement of -the
kidneys, for if there Were not some
weakness there the back would bo
strong and well.
Doan's 1Cidriey Pills will give per.
Ilea relief. and comfort to all weak,
haekrichieg, suffering women, and
make their household duties a pleasure
instead of a burden.
Mrs, Jordan Prosser; Centreville
N.B., writes:—t'I sufered everything
from win in in my bri.ck aro kidneys,
tried all kinds of medicines but
failed to find any cure. At last I
decided to try Doan'S.ICidney .Pills,
and after taking four boxoe I am
completely relieved,''
Price 50c, a box et all dealers, or
maibod direct on receipt Oil price' by
'ilia lb. Milburn Go., Limited, Toronto
0
The Lodge it was eo be then It was prospect? Nothing as pleasant in
a relief to this fair ,youneDecider of
Things that that was settled. She
went to find Ned.
"We're going out to the Lodge for
Thanksgiving, Neddie. My mind is
made."
"Then we're going out to the Lodge
for Thanksgiving," nodded the hug,
band of the Decider. Tie was rather
relieved to have it settled, himself.
Nell might easily have hatched up a
good deal crazier scheme—she and the
girls. •
"Girls know yet?" he inquired, for
Nell might be sole hatcher.
"They will before the clock strikes
Lan tonight," laughed she. "You and
I will tell 'em, Neddie, We'll make
the rgands." •
The Lodge was, true to name. a
lodging -place for the gay little coterie
of the Big Four. The Big Four was
Ned Winters' pet name for the four
young •couples who had jointly built
and now jointly owned it. Only a
matter of twenty odd miles away, it
could be reached svhenever the fancy
of the Big FQUT demanded, a woodsy
retreat and all the fresh trout the
Big Pour husbands could inveigle out
of the cool depths of the best trout
stream (yes, sir!) anywhere in reach
or oirt. But so far, in its five years
of existence, the Lodge had never
been put to use as a winter resort.
At dinner Nell waxed eloquent over
what she considered her inspiration.
"Huge fire every minute, in the
stone fireplace—snapping, roaring!
Hear it roar?"
"1 do—I hear it!" Small Peter's
eyes glinted in their clear blue depths.
Peter and eicily had been allowed as
a remarkable concession to conse down
to dessert because it was ice-cream.
"Don't you hear the fire a-roarin'
like ever -thing, Cecie? This way—
r-r-r-r-r-r-r 1"
"That is enough! You children run
up to bed now. You weren't going
to talk, you know, if I let Nurse bring
you down " •
"That wasn't tallcin'. That was
roar—" His eager little voice pelted
on. getting fainter and fainter as
Nurse got him farther and farther
away.
"Aren't they little nuisances? Well
maybe not nuisances—Of course the
children won't go out with us. Not
if we want a good time! Ned, we
will have a good time, you see! A
regular old-fashioned, dinner."
"What's that? Say it again! You
aren't referring to sage stuffing and
the heart and giblets chopped up in
the gravy and cranberry sauce and
mashed turnip and creamed onions
and pumpkin pie and-a'fiasra's?' "
"Yes, all those grandrnothery things
and 'fixises'—any other fixin's you can
think -of. To match the big open fire
and out-in-the-countryness of it
We'll send the cook out two or three
days ahead—" but no further did the
Decider of Things progress.
"If you dare to send our cook!
She'd put mayonnaise in the stuffing
and some thing crazy and Frenchy in
every other last thing—my aunt!
Shades of my aunt! That was where
I had real Thanksgiving dinner last,
at beloved old Aunt Nancy's. My
mouth has watered ten years, Nell—
Nell, don't you love me?"
She laughed across the beautiful
Frenchy table and nodded her head.
'Enough to give you an Aunt Nancy
dinner this time. Watch me!"
"You mean—coole it yourself?"
His voice, if she had noted, was a
wistful voice. Of course she didn't
mean exactly that, but to see Nell in
a blue -checked apron basting a
turkey—no, no, it wasn't done.
It wasn't.
"Ned Winters!" which sufficiently
answered the wistful voice.
The plan of the Decider of Things
went through with a snap, as of
course. Did her plans ever fail? The
"girls" who were to be parts and
dainty parcels of it all, cheered her
on. It was a perfectly lovely plan—
good for Nell! The husbands of the
girls added their plaudits and offered
their services, their cars' services,
their servants'—plunged eager hands
into full pockets to "dig up" their
shares of expenses. For four Thanks-
givings these friends of the Big Four
had had Thanksgiving together, with
more --or less—success in the way of
a grand good time. But last year—
well, last year
Ellen Winters expressed the Big
Four's mind as to last year.
"I must say I don't want another
restaurant Thanksgiving! Ugh! The
cold things we ate that ought to have
been hot,' and the side dishes. Think
of a Thanksgiving dinner in side
dishes! The one year before last, at
the Club House, was twent,y degrees
hotter, anyway! Neddie, wait till
yen get a tate of this., year's!"..
"IIow can I wait?" sighed Neddie.
But it was not hotness his ,mouth
watered for, not even sage turkey and!
cranberry sauce, a la Aunt Nancy of
beloved memory. It was the blue
gingham apron--'-OTI Nell. And all
that would have meant. What was
the -tise, anyway! He sighed and let
the vision slip. He ordered the two
big turkeys and the "efIxin's" that
were down on Nell's list, He saw to
it•that plenty of generous logs for the
great fireplace were hauled out to the
Lodge; that he lights were in order',
tine place swept j flowers .engaged, his
full part of the arrangements attend-
ed to, But there was something he
could not understand—why in thunder
Nyttall't he tickled at the pleasant
Thanksgiving had come his way since
he watched Aunt Nancy baste her
turkey and smelled the old kitchen
full of Thanksgiving smells.
"Is it going to be at noon?" he sud-
rdenly inquired over the top of his
newspaper. It was three days now to
"it." 1 -le had a queer sensation of
holding his breath for Nell's reply.
Of course though it would not he
at noon, • not at noon like Aunt
Nancy's. "--er—two o'clock? Along
about two o'clock? That's a good
Tanksgiving dinner tinie---" His
voice coaxed like a boy's.
"It is going to be at half -past six
o'cloek—naturally. You don't feel as
if you were going to break down,
or anything, do you, Neddie? In your
Mind?" She was regarding him with
amused eyes. But they were loving
eyes, too, although the love in them
had the effect of being a little out of
practice. As if so many other ins-
rnensely important things occupied the
spacious blue fields of vision .that
Love had been crowded into the back-
ground. Gowns to be looked at with
sharp appraisal, dust to be ferreted
out in the wake of careless maids, lit-
tle Peter's socks to match exactly the
gold -brown of his soft hair—for
Peter's mother looked to the perfect
outer perfection of his small round
body, although the little perfect soul
of Peter was alraest a stranger to her.
"I've got everything going .at last.
For the dinner, I mean. I had no
idea it would be such an undertaking
to get up a dinner twenty miles from
a lemon! I've hired a woman who
lives right on the edge of the woods
to do all the cooking—an Aunt Nancy
woman, Neddie."
"Blue -checked apron?"
, "Blue -checked or pink or some -
checked. She had the liveliest bunch
of kiddies. They're like a flight of
steps, from the lowest up! I mean
to tell her to keep them out of the
kitchen."
"011, no!—er—I inean---": slipped
past Nedclie's still boyish lips, but she
did not wait for what he meant. It
had not occurred to the mother of lit-
tle Peter and Cecie as it had to their
father what joys they themselves were
missing in being kept out of the kit-
chen. So many other things occurred
to Ellen Winters.
"I wish we had somewhere to send
the babies' for Thanksgiving—a
grandinother or Aunt Nancy," Ned
Winters mused aloud avistfolly. "It
is tough on 'ern to be shunted off up
into the nursery alone. They should
have a Thanksgiving to remember
when—"
."I don't believe you have heard a
word I've been saying, Ned Winters!
But I shan't begin over—you'll have
to find out by the context. Canned
plum pudding will have' to do because
she hasn't time to make everything.
Four kinds of pie, I told her, but I
forgot pumpkin and that will make
five. I told her to strain the cran-
berries and make jelly. She was go-
ing to roast her turkeys before hand
and get her vegetables all started.
I shall motor • out Saturday and see
she doesn't, though—I otight to have
insisted. They must taste right, even
if she does have to work harder,"
and on and on ran the soft voice that
could with so small exertion, put on
hardness, when necessary.
On Saturday, .Nell motored out to
see how the cook was faring, but too
late to keep the turkeys out of the
oven. The- warm, savory. smell of
them met her on the threshold. As
also did the "flight"of steps from the
lowest up." She was too late to keep
the ,"steps" out of the kitchen, too!
One "step" sprang shyly at her.
"She's just basted 'em an' all of
us smelled three smells. She let us.
Essie began 'cause Essie's tallest.
But—but----they sort of didn't smell
good's own smells. • Once we had own
smells—my! Didn't we have, Essie?
It was 'fore the war, -when Fardie had
both his legs in Canada."
"In—Canada?" Ellen Winters,
mother of a man child, shivered. -
'Yes, before he left one in France.
You have to have both your legs in
the sarne cauntry to earn Thanksgiv-
-in' dinners, Fardie says, an' he says
that's a joke, so we all laugh. But
Mardie doesn't. Mardie goes right up
to Fardie' an' kisses the France leg—"
"Genie Ross!" The tall Essie
friend her voice in rebuke.
"She does too! An' then Fardie
doesn't laugh either—"
"Genie rto--" urged Essie all in
vain. The soft little torrent swept
on straight from the heart.
"We are gcrin' to laugh all tornor-1
row to keep Farclie an' Mardie from
thinkin' we mind— 'cause— 'cause
the smells aren',1„ own smells! Bute --"1
the small feet rose on their toes to
enable Genie's lips to reach Epen
Winters' ear. "But we do cave ev'ry,
time the oven opens--sh! It's very
diff'eult to laugh when those puf-
fec'ly splendid smells come out. I
can, though --watch me laugh; Mar- I
die's goin' to open it again!" And
F,Ilen watched that valiant little roarl
of mirth for Mardie' s sake and Far -1
die's whom Ellen could discern in an-
other room.
"One, two, three! Now it's rny
turn to stric11, Genie!"
Ellen 'Winters, muffled in her rugs
and furs, rode home smoothly and
swiftly. She stopped at the flat of
one of the "girls," Esther Sherman.,
No mob of little children met he
there. Esther was alone and' eager
to hear the details of the Lodge din -
•
ner. 1\1.01 was such a dear dear to
do all the work, beside e having all
the Mapirations. What was she go-
ing to do With Peter and CicilY? The
other girl,s, sYleg and C,arolyzi were
going to sead theirs—David and Meg-
gie wo off to glandruothe 5,
"No grandmothers here," sighed
Nell. "Nurse will. have to play be
else. 'we're away so inuch, anyway,
Cecie won't know the difference, and
if Peter does, he won't let on, He
keeps things to himself, nurse says.
l'in not awfully well acquainted with
Peter myself," r
"They couldn't—you don't think
they could go too, Nell?" . This
Esther without a Peter or a Cecie was
a bit troubled for those cif her friend.
"Certainly not," Nell returned flees-
ly. "Not if we want a good quiet
time. Much you know. 'about chil-
dren!" .
"Pm acquainted with Peter, any-
way!" retorted Esther, "He tells inc
things. I run in to the nursery of-
ten. And Cecie kisses me."
"That's more than she does to me,"
laughed Nell. And suddenly she
heard her own laugh as if someone
else had laughed it in her. ears. I1.
sounded forced. Why shouldsCeeie,bel
kissing people who were not even,
mothers? A sudden question leaped
up in her mind as if it had been sorne,
one else's mind and demanded an
answer.
"Are—you—a---mother?" it asked
distinctly, sternly.
Ned was not downstairs when she
reached home and she wanted ;him
dowestairg to talk. to, to get the taste
of thatquestion out of her soul.
"Where have you been?" denianded
she, as he at length appeared. "What's
the use of having a husband if you
can't have him when you want him?"
"What's the use of having bable's
if you can't see 'ens when they are
asleep?" emintered he. . He had been,
taken a litTle unawares.
• "Neddie! You mean to tell me—"
"Didn't mean to," he muttered.
"—that you—you—"
"That I—I," he confessed, a flush-
ed, found -out Ned. "Well! A bit
explosively. . "It isn't a crime to look
at your own babies in their sleep, is
it? If 'tis, I'm guilty all right. Say,
Nell—" sweeping about toward her
suddenly. "Did you know there are
dimples in their knees? There are.
I—I undressed the little buggers orie
night. Cost me two dollars—bribed
the nurse to beat it.- That was one.
Cecre's are the deepest—Cecie iga lit-
tle witch! What do you suppose she
said? That I could drop a kiss in
I the deepest dirnple—that made two—
' for a dollar. Most I ever got out of
two dollars!" 'He made a little chuck-
ling noise in his throat but, curious-
ly, it was not really a laugh. Nell,
leaning forward on her -chair, was not
laughing either.
"Go on—and what did you do?"
"I dropped it in." ^ "-••
It was a beautiful room they were
sitting in—too beautiful. Too per-
fect. It needed things --little things,
on the floor, over a chair, over a little
chair. It needed beautiful sounds,
like soft father -mother laughter •over
a Peter's funny performance that day
or how a Cecie had got round the
cook for tiny doll -cookies for her.
party. It was a beautiful, cleared -
up room and very silent. A • pity,
since this was a rare at -home -together
evening for Ned and Ellen Winters—
when before had they been alone and
together here, at nine o'clock? Ned
there in his stuffed lounging chair --
Nell here on the couch that was so
becoming in its pastel shades to the
faint pinkness of her cheeks.
"Hark! That's the fire siren again
—how I hate it! Why must they
have such a shrieky, /many thing
that sends. the creeps up and down
your spine? It makes me think of
lost souls wailing in the dark. I
suppose somebody's house is
"Poor somebody! It must be the
most awful death to be. burned—"
"Ned !—Tor pity's sake! Is that the
cheerfulest thing you can think of to
say after being still most an hour?
Why, Nurse! 'What is the matter?
The children—" Nell was en her feet,
in alarm. The usually calm; phleg-
matic face of 1±e children's nurse was
startled and pale.
"They're gone—I can't find them!
It's the siren; it's been ringing the
longest while. Their clothes are gone!
Peter is perfectly possessed about
fires. He always wants to follow the
sirels. He muSt have waked up and
heard the alarsrn, and seen ---'-have you.
looked out? The sky is ablaze!'
• Thousands Sutter
Untold' Agy,
DIfSPEP411A
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without any bad after effects.
Mrs. C. Stone Nanticoke, Ont.,
write;:—'dSome me ago I hasi a •
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was also tronbled -with gas on my
st,ornacli. I could hardly eat, any- .
thing, and very often had pains after
meals. I had used different medi-
cines, but they didn 't seem to do ere
ansr good. At last I happened to run
on the traelt Iaurdoek Blood Bit-
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„time felt a lot better so continued
its use until pow, STY1 completely re^
toyed, NOW I are ready to recom-
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B.B,B, nestref,actered by 'Ilse T.
Itillsurn Co Limited Toronto Out.
Tegether they tore„the heavy drap-
series aside—drepped them—sprang
for the long motor coats that hunk
"Stay here, Nurse! Have hot bot-
tles and things ready. be
chilled, Hurry, Nell! Did you count
the times it rang?" -
"We don't iieed any directions. The
crowd will tell ---it's a big fire. I've
got Peter's overcoat — where's
Cecie's?"
"I've got it—hurry!"
A touernent, huge and tall, was
flaming to the .sky„ There was, din
of engines and ineti's -,Voices and a
woman shrieking. The crowd was
held b
ad confusion
b
tel s iount reigned,
d
e,iigned!ficEullbtoyDin
i;
Win-
ters, moaning under her breath,
clutched at Neci's arm. Suddenly the
woman's shrieking ceased.
`She's gone in! She got away
from 'em! She's, gone after her
baby!" A voice close behind Ellen—
a mother's voice ----was lifted high in
terrible excitement. "Well, I'd a -gone
—they couldn't a -held me back
neither."
Another exeitea, lifted voice. A
mother voice—Ellen seemed to know.
"E ,Ida! They aren't
letting the 'firer -nen' in no-W-elederi't you
see the walls are just ready to fall in!
Ida, she'll be burned to death! Oh,
the baby. Oh, the poor mother!
Poor, Poor things!"
An awful death Ned had said so
short sa time ago, bach there in the
tbahediadnuegtdsi f. yuol se ea sf wr oeonite nT hs ae yvionigdetse, joatihbei re
"They say- the baby's burned to
ashes by this time!"
"So's she by this time! Oh -0000—"
a shudder ran through the crowd.
For the walls were caving. A crash
and spouting sparks and flames—they
had fallen in. ,
"Ned! Ned!" shrieked , Ellen 'Win-
ters. She could bear no marc. She
too was a mother. He caught her to
him and hid her face in his arms.-
.
"Don't look, dear. Don't think'
It's all right ---we're all right. We'll
find the babies 9,nd go horne—" but it
was not of her Own babies ,E,11en Win-
ters was thinking athths.t one shud-
dering moment.' It was of that other
mother's baby—ashes to ashes, mother
and baby. Oh, she hoped there'd.been
time to get to it—to snatch 4..into
her,arms—
"Yes, I am a mother!" she whis-
pered, at last answering ,the stern
question of her soul. Then Aire panic
seized Ellen Winters.
'Ned, we can't find them! They're
lost!" She hurled herself Si on
strange little „ones in the surging
crowd only to be freshly disappointed,
,freshly frantic. One small creature,
almost a Cicily, she clasped to her
and refused to give -up _until Ned
gently released the Child who wanted
its own mother.
"Come dear,"' he soothed, "I am
going to take you home—I can hunt
better all by myself. Besides, I've
set the police hunting. You must
obey, Nell.Decider of This!"
He tried to ceax a smile but in vain.
They went homeward in spite of
Ellen's objections, he,talking stead-
ily to keep her mind from dwelling
(oireirpitetigelyi.ble things, she, dwelling shud-s
.met them at the front elooto
A sobered but unrepented Peter.
"Here's us!" he greeted gravely
.."Was' you lookin' for us? I brang
Cecie home—of •course 1 brang her.
I made her wear my.coat. An' I said
'runl' an' we runned--ranned, 1 mean.
And Nurse toasted .1.1s; we're all
toasted_ now.. Father, there was a
woman all burned up—upi An' her
little boy was all burned up.
cried, but Cecie didn't. Cecie said if
she'd.beeri the mother She'd been glad
she'd burned all up, too." 011, the
eternal motherness of Cecies little
and big!
"Father, are you glad 'twasn't us
burned—Mother, would you have run
in and bur—"
darlings, ,,,,don't—don't4-don't!"
And Ellen Winters on her 'knees be-
fore her- unharmed clarlinga felt- a
great light Sweep in on the tide of
her child's words, the glaring and
awful light of truth. She saw her-
self in the light once more and heard
the question.
Half an hour later the children
were still downstairs. Mother'd sent
Nurse away! Mother'd held 'em both
in her; arms to once! An' Father'd
held ?ern. An'---eny-/ -Only girls went
to 'sleep those. tiines: 'Peter. stayed
broad awake ,an' -had splendid times!
'wonld •you like an 0Jd-
faShiOned Thanksgiving right here in
our dining-room-eand--eand kitchen,
Peter? Ansi you and Cede 'smelling
the good, smells every time the oven.=
door opened. , No cooks ionin ,-, no
Nurse,s, and 1VIother in a blue-checiced
• e
a pl OP -77 • I
"'What's old-fashioned like, Mother':
Is a bloc-checited apron nice?"
•
"Nicest apron _in ell, the ;world,
son!" sang -Father. "It is the Badge
of Horne d Joy."
„ an
ather can, wear one. too!" laugh-
ed Nell unevenly. "Neddie? Just 118
four together? four, alive , and
safe!"
four! Lis four an' Thanks-
"
• • •
givin . sang Cecie to the world at
large. It was a kind of a eong, Slia
liked it. So did ,Father.
"And Thanksgiving," repeated
FaTtitheeri)ee"TdheralleifcsIgihviinn&gNil!"
s• liaedi.tali• de_ '
cided. She slipped away to the' tele-
phone and explained to the girls. Back
she flesv, joYous with her news.
"1 got tbern all three. They are
all rather relieved, Ned, and 1 told,
them about that flight of little steps,,
e Sunday School
NOVEMBER 4
World -Wide Prohibition World's Temperance Sunday.
Psalm 101. 1-8; Proverbs 23- 29-35.Golden Text—
,
I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes. — Psalm
101: 3.
LESSON SETTING—This week We
have our quarterly Temperance Les-
son. This is not an interruption 'or
a turning aside from the main' theme
of the 'lessons. Temperance is a -world
question just as. the missionary move-
ment is. Temperance is a vital part
of the missionary movement.
temperance is waste of life, and soul
power, just as Christianity is conser-
vation of life and Soul power for the
highest ends and purposes. We know
how intemperance has been one of the!
great hindrances of the missionary ini
his work, for where the missionary
has blazed the, trail, the rum . seller
has followed. Moreover, the intein-I
perance Of SO called Christian nations;
is a reproach to Christianity in the
eyes of many non-Christian peoples.1
tem-
perance. that has turned to God svilli
be a' world that has turned to tem-;
-I. THE WISDOm OF TIIE KING, Ps.
101: 5-8:
Vs. 5, 6. Whoso . slanclereth
1:1"8 ne ighbOUr. In the preceding
verses of the psalm, the king has been,
"expressing his sense of responsibility
as ruler of the kingdom. He promises,
to -use his power tempehatelY, by recog-
nizing his duties -to God and man.
Power, like anything else, can be
used intensperatelY.- David says he,
will remember' what he oweS to God
verses, he
man. Now, in the following
he describes his attitude to
those who forget the law of temper-
ance in all things. He will clesttoy
the man who is intempera.te in. speech,
who speaks false things against his
neighbor without regard to truth.
Him that hath an high look.; "he that
Is lofty eyed." This is intemperance
of pride, and-ambition—the sin that
magnifies others susd belittles others
and magnifies self and ignores God.
He that wallceth in a perfect way.
This is the man whose life is from:,
,day to day regulated by high ideals.
He:has-a standard by which he guides
his life. There is a pathway in his
life that he seeks to walk in. •
Vs. 7, 8. He that wo9-heth deceit'
shall'not dwell within my house. The
king seeks the company of the faith-
ful, and shuns the companionship. of
the Wicked. The matter of compan-!
ionship is of the utmost irnportance.1
There is a companionship that helps
to right thoughts and' right actions'
as well as to 'wrong thoughts, arid
-Wrong actions. Companionship should
not be a matter. of 'chance but of
choice. He. that ,speaketh ,. falsehood
SW' ?wt be established (Rev. Ver.) ••
shall have no permanent place. -,The'
royal favor will not be extended to,'
those who practise ,deceit. The courti
will not be the scene„,o1 subtlety andl
craft, but of honesty and faith. The
king seeks to order heart, home and,
court aright.
II, The WOES OF THE DRUNKARD,
PRO1)•. 23: 29-35.
Vs. '29, 31. Who' hath, .t)oe red -
72688 of eye? This section of the les -7
soli turns our thought to temperance,
in our accepted sense of that word.
!It has to do With the physical and
'moral effects of drunkenness. The
' writer ,calls attention to the after
effects of a debauch, after the first
exhilaration of body and mind has
passed. The drunkard, - perhaps,
sought td drown his woe and sorrow,
but it waits for hiin in the morning,
greater than ever. Perhaps he had
sought to banish his weariness of
body, but the morning brings in-
creased physical unfitness. Perhaps
he had ought intellectuab stitnulus,
but 'the mernine• finds him dull and
heavy. The life needs release from
the burdens and heaviness of life-, and
there ,are ways of escape which re-,
create the powers of life rather than
dissipate them. While we aim at pre---
hibition, we must see that Healthful
forms of recreation are made pi?ssible
for all.It will be noted also in the
chapter from which the less, n is taken,
deals with other evila of intensper-
ance-sgluttony and impurity. All of
them are, the waste of bodily and soul
'Vs. 32, 35. At the last it biteth
a serpent, V. 29 deals with the im-
mediate results of inthinperanca: This
verse deals with the final results of
drunkenneas. When it is all too late
the drunkarderealizes that, the cup, is
a cup of poison. These words were
written thousands of years- ago, but
,they are true as ever to -day. The
results of intemperance are always
the same. But the experience of an-
cient days is unheeded by the world
to -day. This is one reason that,jUs-
tifled prohibition. We are dealing
with- a subtle and treacherous foe.
We are justified in seeking to protect
the heedless and the weak -from them- --
selves. The ,right interpretation ,of
total prohibition is total protection. "
We seek to shield the child arid
womankind from the results of inteni-
perance and to protect the, drunkard
from himself. The difficulties of en-
forcement, which all must admit, do
not provide a sufficient reason for in-
action. It may be said that we can-
not make people better by legislation.
Very true, but remember that so long
as we legalize the liqUor traffic we
are making man,•worse by legislation.
The liquor, traffic is a lawless -beach-
erons force, and as suChave must deal
with it. We cannot compromise with
it, much less legalize it. •Thine eyes
shall behold . , thine heart shall ut-
ter perverse things.. -1,m-the conclud-
ing verses the writer 'points out how
intemperance destroys the whole nor-
mal course of life. IVIind and tongue
and body are :all out of joint.- TheY
do ndt function ar,ielit,. eer-iiie Serlp,
it yet again. -Yet"; he has poWer to
break away _from his course of life.
Ile is chained as 'well as poisoned.
on the edge of the woods, and they all
want the little steps to have the din-
ner! The girls are dears! I told
them how that boy Genie said it
wasn't the -same to smell other folks'
smells—now he can smell 'own' smells!
I'll send word out to them the first
thing Monday. Neddie, Peter, Moth-
er's going to baste the turkey!" 6
Early on Thanksgiving day Esther
Shernian appeared but could not be
induced to sit down.
"I've only got a rninute, while she's
asleep. I came' over to tell you—
we'v-e got a baby, Nell! Hush, let me
talk! Richard chose the very home-
liest one, I do believe, but I can make
her pretty! can—love her pretty.
I've hegun now. I told Richard we'd
borrow one for today—when you
phoned you were going to -have a real
home Thanksgiving. We Inald to have
a real home one, too. I sent him to
the Baby Home •for one. Nell, do
you think we'd give that baby up af-
ter—after it snugged its little soft
head in our necks! And went to
sleep—here?" She laid her hand
upon her breast. "And—we'd kissed
its little knees --let me go! Don't
keep me or I'll cry I am so happy—"
"Neddie," whispered Nell later,
when "own smells" like holy incense
of Horne and Joy floated through tho
big house, "did you think a Thanks-
giving could be so very- thankful?"
And Neddie wiped her mother -
tender eyes on the corner of the big
blue apron.
A Perfect Day.
Over hill, over dale,
'Cross the stream, O'er the vale,
Tloinpingthrough, the rues:dews green,
Spot , and. -;13 are of t,et1
1J, youSlywe, romp along,
While niy•ihc.,,art is,fillecl with song. , •
Prayers- of 'thanks, dear.' Lerd, 'I l'serfcl
For a, brave and leyrit friend.
—Helen. L. ,Gotrclerian„.1
, • "
On Thanksgiving Day give special
thanks for the blessings of friend-
ship. •
Did you ever try to drive nails into
seasoned timber, such as white oak,
post oak or hickory? Hard job, wasn't,
it? I hare learned that axle grease
or lubricating oil applied freely to the
point of the nail will Make y; drive
lunch easier and the grease also pre-
vents the nail rusting in ,the timber,
Use any grade of oil or 'grease, just
So it is greasy, -and be 'careful to get
none on the nail -head, for your ham-
mer will slip all: and bend the nail
Thanksgiving.
Thanks for the little things, dear.
LOrd—
The baby's Wavering smile,
May's tiny shoes beneath her bed,
Round arms upflung about her head,
(She sleeping sweet the while.)
Thanks for the kindly things, dear
Lord—
The kitchen's westward view,
Bill's patience vhen the meals are
late, '
The goldenrod beside the gate,
The old cat's friendly mew.
'Thanks for the human things, dear
Lord--
. Bill's rough,cheek ors my arm,
'1'he funny dent in baby's nose,
The 'backward wiy May's red hair
, Like her own perverse charm.
,
The big things are Thy keeping,.
Lord— • '
Life,' Truth and Love and Peace,
But little, kindly, human things, •
Are like the touch 'of angel wings,
Whose blessingi' never cease. '
.--Margaret W. Jacksbn.
The agelimit should not be put on,
a fowl so long as it maihtains a good
breeding condition.
. ' . -
More farm machm,ery is put on the
.• ,
junk pile by neglect than by use.
Check That ewe;
AT OC
Seine people , et nasty cough or
cold and don !t, pa,v eruch attention to
saying, t:011., it will wear 'away
„ ili
a short tialc,/!.Ibut-While'dt may, V;oal-
of, serious in. -jury may heVe been done'
to the respiratory organs by the pro-
.
hinged, ha:sh, racking coughing.
On the first sign es a eold or a
cough got, a bottle of Dr. Wood's Nor-
way 'Pine Syrup ..and see, JJOV( ettiekly
your trouble will disappear.
Mrs Geo, McC!omas, Shell Piroele,
Sask., writes: ---"We have. ueed Dr.
Wood's Norway t'ine Syrep overY
winter since sve cenie to Canada atal
find it the best we can get for 05•1,15
and coughs. It just seems to heal Om
respiratory passages arit'l effectually
cheeks the cold ' almost at &nee. Et
certainly is a Wonderful reedicium's
Price 35c„ a bottle; -1 urge f aus ily
size 60e.; put tip only by 'lire T. 'e,.fil-
.hurn Co. Limited Toronto Oat
lc
11