Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1924-10-23, Page 61 Y,Yr' 114180 EN TEA The exquisite flavor irtdicales the perfect blending of choice tease AI t for a pacltage today,. fREE SAMPLE uf CREED TEA UPON REQUEST. "SALADA." TORONTO bout the House TEN COMMANDMENTS TO •PARENTS. Another school year is now in full ' swing. With all the enthusiasm md eagernesS of a child, several thousand ybungsters have begun their firstor a new year of their school life. It often develops that this enthusiasm and in- terest in their school work becomes a strain that may tend to cause the child to be nervous and ieritable, and eventually rob him of health and the enjoement of his youth. Dr. Park J. White, child specialist, says that the best cure for this nerv- ousness is prevention, ard gives these ten commandments to parents to help their children. 1. Be sure that the child is in good physical condition. Nervousness should be the last diagnosis made. 2. Never let the child hear you o' r anyone else talk about him. 9. Make few requests and have them obeyed, instead of many requests that are not followed up. 4. Remember that a child always knows more than the proudest parent thinks he does. Keep him occupied. 5. If you must worry about your child, don't let him see it. He looks to you for strength, not weakness. • 6. Never say, "Boys will be boys." It covers too many sins, 7. Never hire anyone to do the ac- tual bringing up of your child. Try to fit yourself for the task. 8. Enter into your child's fun just as much as into his discipliee. Other- wise, you wiii scarcely know each other. 9. Know all about your child's teachers and his friends without seeming to interfere. 10. At the proper time, talk to your children --father to son, mother to daughter—of sex, as naturally as you would of digestion. "'Once a child has develeped one or more of the great catalog of nervous symptoms," says this specialist, "the greatest hope of eure lies in correcting the physical trouble thatrne.,Y be re- bponsible. Failing this, the child's environment much, be changed, 'either by purging the house of nervous edults, by sending the child away for e visit, by providing new companions, by putting him in a new school if the eld one has really been at fault, or by putting him in bed for a rest cure. FOR LATE SEASON CANNING. The following recipes are all a bit Offerent, and will fill your shelves with aelicious additions for winter menus. l'he recipes given all use the "garden's }ast offerings," and may be rnade after the weather begins to get cooler. Quince -Apple Preserves—Put six °WO 1111 ft% • 37a7.1 Dusty &rads Are c rriers Everywhere, every day, the hands are touching things covered with dust. Countless times- those dust -laden hands touch the face and the lips in the course a a day. Consider—dust is a source of in. Lection and danger. Lifebetoy Protects Take no chances cleanse your hands frequently with the rich, creamy lather of Lifebuoy. Life- buoy contains a wonderful health ingredient which goes deep down into the pores of the skin, purify- ing them of any lurking infection, The dean, antiseptic odeur van- ishes in a few seconds, but the protection of Lifebuoy remains. 11EALT11 P iViore than. Soap -allealth Habit LEVRR BR'DTI1ER$ L/IVITTBD TORONTO Lb -4-93 . , F49t„igi NV.., 4-24d quinces and three meet apples through the food chopper. 'Boil the quince parings in enough water to m'alte one quart -after the parings have Lecome tender. Drain off the jeicc, and add two quarts of enger, Boil until it is syrupy, then add the quince and apple pulp and cook slowly until :t is as thick as jelly. Pour into Jelly glasses, and when cool seal with melt- ed paraffin. Tomato and Apple Relish --Grind together twelve apples, six mangoes, six green tomatoes, and one pound of seeded raisins. Add' one quart of vinegar, two cups of brown sugar, one teaspeon celery seed, and one table- spoon of salt. Cook for one hour, stir- ring occasionally to prevent stiCking and burning. Pour into jars and seal. Horseradish and Beet Relish --One pint of beets, cooked and chopped, one- half pint of grated horseradish. root, one teaspoon of salt, one tablespoon of sugar, and ttivn-thirds cup of vine- gar. Pack in small jars. Sweet Apple Pickles—For these, use small apples. Cut them in half and remove the core, but do uot peel. Pack closely in a sterilized jar and fill with the following; To one quart of water add one and a half cups of dark brown syrup, a scant cup of vinegar, two or three sticks of cinnamon, broken up, and a talalespoon of whole cloves. Ad- just rubbers and screw the tOps on as far as you can with the thumb .and first linger. Sterilize in hot water bath for three-fourths of an hour. A NEW GAME. A new game, which always causes much amaaernent, is Funny Faces. All the outfit required to play it is a table, a lamp, a pencil, a sheet of paper ruled in two-inch squares, an old newspaper and two or more fun -loving persons. An umpire may be useful but is not strictly necessary, for the winner can be determined by written voting slips. If a.n umpire is to decide who is the whiner, he should not know the num- bers that belong to the players. Numbers corresponding to the num- ber of persons playing are written on slips of paper and passed in ahat. The umpire sits apart frorn' the players, who do not call out their numbers. Lay the sheet of paper on the table by the side of the lamp, crumple a piece of newspaper into a ball the size of a large marble, lay it at the side of a square near the lamp, so that the ball will cast a shadow in the centre of the square. Keep turning the ball, until it casts a shadow somewhat re- sembling a face. Outline the face with a pencil, add an eye; an ear, hair, a neck line, collar, or anything the play- er's fancy may suggest. Anyone who has the faculty of put- ting in extra touches, so as to accen- tuate the outline of the face, can get some exceedingly laughable results. Each player signs his number under his drawing, together with a title. The player who draws the most amusing or striking portrait and names it most aptly wins the first prize. - THE FAMILY POCKET -BOOK. • "With all my goods I thee endow," The marriage service ran, That William blithely chanted; And was made a happy man. And he really thinks he meant it, Long with "better and for worse." But it's down in William's pocket That you'll find the family purse. He'd be very much insulted, And he'd rant and rave and tear, If you hinted that his helpmate Really ought to have a share. "Pay her wages like a servant Hired to do her little task! Everything I have is hers, sir! All she has to do is --ask." "And she ha .s the butter money, Buys what groceries she think e best. And I never think of asking What she does with ell the rest." Put rolled oats through the meat grinder lentil you have four cupfale. To these add two cupful e of flour, one cupful of white Sugar, One cupful of shortening—either butter or pork drippings, not lard—one teaspoonful of salt, a small teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a aupfnl of warm water. Mix eoft. 'Have aeady sortie dates, seeded and "All things else we have in common, All is hers as well as Mine," But it's down in William's pocket That those family dollars' thine. OATMEAL COOKIES. a -trice a , BY HONORE. WILLSIE. L th13atrft sat.ef-I °g11 th-e t°‘1)1st..11°particularbof ar bar of this particular gate hade been her favorite thiaking-spot Sine°,ifl her slender -legged childhood, her heels had tatooed the very dents still to he seen in the second bar. The old man, hobbling elowly across her reverie, did not in the least dis- t turb her dreaining. Hii eyes lingered tenderly on her as 'he drOw nearer. "Beatrice!" he called. "Beatrice, !cheerfal best ta keep.up a conversation concerning the condition of the honey bees and the new hives, which were his special care and pride. As soon as possible,'Beatriae.left the table,' When 'she was gone her father again manned ,his guns. The subjec,t of her distaste of house- , work, her love of books, her dislike for the society of the farmer youths of the noiFhborhood, had once occupied the ' entire meal hour; hut a certain quiet dignity that Beatrice was acquiring, !with her eighteen years, had lately caused her father to curb his tongue better come in now, dearie." 1 a little. So it was Grandtather Ed - The girl jumped lightly from her gren who received full benefit of the perch. • l'fusinade* "I can't understand it," began John "Savirig me from another scolding,' eh, grandfather?, Bless your heart!" !Walcott pouring a quantity of cream 1over hi's strawberries "What does "2 -our father'll be in from the field Beatrice think is to .become of her? pretty soon now," the old man said. , She turns up her nose at every fellow, Beatrice put her arm through his in the township, and some of them are and. turned him toWard the Neese. 1mightY Yell -to-do, tine, Why, my sis "It's a pretty place, grandfather." - ters used to turn out as much work in she said. ' a day as Beatrice does in a year." "Beatrice comes of different stock," i "Yes," said the old man', ‘‘I din think so after seeing it f suggested Grandfather Edgren, mild -I odd years." ,. or seventy- I. ,, - , l She s my child as much as her, Across the pasture lay the old red mother's, ain't she?" stormed Walcott. brick house, almost hidden by Virginia, "And I tell you I don'tsee how any creeper. Elms and maples filled the: child of mine ben spend her days sill - great yard. It was a quiet old house",' in at flowers' fussing °v -e iluwer e s and mooning at the landscape,. 1 with many windows and gabled roofs,. ' "Yes, it's a pretty place,„ repeated. si.iwish she bad been, a boy. As it is; e'll never ount to shucks." Beatrice, "and I should hate to leave' e am 1 I have a feeling," went on the . 1 gentle old voice opposite, "that some Grandfather Edgren stopped in one of the Edgrens, some day, will alarm. - ramonnt to a great many shucks; if "YouBeatrice, then one of Beatrice's are not thinking of leaving it, not Beatrice?" he 'cried. children. We have always been quiet The girl shook her had. people, yet"—here e note of pride crept into the quavering voice ---"we "It's no ose for Inc to think of leav- ' have never been beholden to any one ing it, grandfather, you know'. Father ' for sustenance. This property, unen- won't let me leaen anything but house-' cumbered, has been in the family for keeping. If there were need for my' a hundred and fifty years." --. doing the work, I wouldn't complain."; John Walcott looked a little uncom- , "I wish your mother had lived, Bea- ' fortable. His place was merely ,that trice," the old man said. "She could of regent. The beautiful old farm would 'belong to Beatrice, have done anything -with your father. "Of coliese, I know that," he said, Not but what John means -well," he in a ' slightly more conciliatory tone, interrupted, "but—but he doesn't see "and what I waiit s tomake B t. ce things just as your Mother and I fit to take the responsibility of it." would. 1 Grandfather Edgren looked out the The girl's sweet face saddened as window toward his beloved beehives. "I'm not afraid," he answered. "Bee - her companion spoke, and her dark' trice's mother was a dreameretoo, and eyes watched, unseeingly, the pigeons Beatrice looks`like. her." dipping' -about the eaves, Of the oldcaught , ' John Walcott's reply in "his barn. Then her lips curved into a throat as he looked toward the door - sudden smile. . ° I way- ,- "Grandfather.," she cried, "the first; I e -, Grandfatner,,, • said i Beatrcee • , „ will brier rose!" 'She knelt close by the you -cone into the garden with me?", garden fence and Smelled the fragile' Beatrice was very like 'her inotheP; very like the old „portrait that hung in thing. "I'll not pick it yet," she mule.' I the hall; and ,that shoed a- sweet- mured, "not until . " I faced girl with -alaughing b.a.by in her "Beatrice. Beatrice11 . celled a heavy arms. It was One of the' griefs of re '• ' voice from^the porch. , 1 Beatrice's life that she had been so "Coming, father," answered the girl, young. that she could not realize in rising slowly, and, again taking the Whose arms she was held; and it was old man's arm7she trailed • up . the the great grief of John' Walcott's lift bricked garden walk to the vii..ien that those tender arms had held the i baby for so shoef a time. As he look - covered porch. ' 1 ed at his daughter's face above the "Beatrice,"her father began, .. "are'' white gown, a face fOo sad for its yen. never going to take the responsi-1 years, a memory of that other face, bility of the house? It's pretty hard i which he had truly adored, clutched at on me to have to run both the farm! his heart. Without a word he watch - and the house, while you are out moon-! ed the old man and the girl go, out hag!' . into the garden; and long after Brid- Beatrice did not answer until she1Fet had cleared the -table he sat star - had helped her grandfather up n_ mgathering g into the twilight. , ''"''' Grandfather Edgren and Beatrice stens- .!walked up and doVen the -garden ,paths "But,•father," she said then, "Brid-1together, pausing now before a group get does everything better than I could , of lilies ethereally soft in the fading ever hope to, and she has Managed so; light, now before a mass ' of phlox of long that she resents a suggestion 'wonderful hue and lexuriance. from me." 1 "They are beautiful, child—beauti- ful! I don't' see_ how you do it!" l\fr. Walcott brought his fist down 1 "I think out most of, it sitting on heavily on the back of a chair. ' - the pasture gate. Somehow, I can "That's not the point," he said den plan best there," answered' Beatrice, cisively. "I want my daughter to be' smiling- whimsically, a thorough housekeeper, and she'll 1 That evening, as they sat 'on the never learn it by lally-gagging in the porch listening to the measured notes woods. My mother would tuen over , of the crickets, Grandfather Edgren in her grave if she thought I had such was unusually silent. A new idea was a daughter." !stirring in the old man's mind. Bea - Beatrice waited to hear no more, but trice so loved her flowers, she delved - over them so persistently, read and slipped into the hallway.' Grandfather I studied over them so faithfully, it Edgren looked at his son-in-law sadly. seemedpity thather efForts should "You don't understand Beatrice, I'm:r1otleaa dto some end which might meet afraid, John," he said. [John Walcoft's approval. After Bea - "No, aiad 1 don't want to," snorted, trice and her father: had gone to bed, John Walcott. "You've no business to and the house lay qielet in the 'noon - encourage her in her la,ziness, father. light, a lamp burned late in the old Come, supper must be ready," and he man's room. He was writing a letter followed Beatrice into the hall. 1 to an old-time friend's son, whose pri- The interior of the old house was as ,vate greenhouses were widely known, attractive as the exterior. A broad, I asking would he stop in to see whether cool waiscoted- hall stretched through the girl's flowers were salable, if he It, with wide -swung doors at either ' ever passed that -way. = end, through which one caught, on the j For the next few days, for different one hand,- a glimpse of Summer fields reasons, Beatrice'end her Grandfather and the lane, where a line of cattle Edgren went about with an air of wandered toward the barnyard, and, absent-minded expectancy—a fact that on the other hand, the queinteold g,arelieritated John Walcott 'almost beYond den with its tangle of bloom. It -was endurance. Even' the hiving of a new not strange that Grandfather Edgren swarm of bees had seldom enthralled and Beatrice loved the -place. ' Grandfather Edgren as did the possi- The supper hour was not a con- bilities of a reply to his letter. Each genial one, though the old man did his morning, as the postman's gig appear- ed in a dusty cloud far down the road, the old ni'ari hobbled down the lane fo spread open. Rollout the dough, trim intercept it. . , the edges, then lay the dates over half (To he continued.) • the dough, turning the other half over . ----- the dates- Press firmly together with A Scotch Gift - the rolling pin, cut coolties in any de- "Here, Annie, here's something, for sired shapes and bake in a quick oven. your anmennced an old They are delicious. Scotchman, handing his servant a cheotie for five .dollars, but with the A 'GARDEN IN A MTJEFIN PAN. signature Hoe blf,Lah• "Keel) it, an' on Has your faithful muffin , pan your next birtlide.y 111 sign it." • sprung a leak and ceased to he oven - worthy? Those very holes are useful! And for a muffin tin garden there should be two or three small ones in each cup. Pound then i in with a nail, Next paint the whole pan a dull green' enamel. Place good, soil suitable for nasturtiums in' each 'cup. Plant VW- etal seeds to each cup and then watch them grow into a very decorative and new kind of 'dish garden" for the living room, Mtnard't L'InIrnent, Heata auto, We Make Paynients We Pay Express (Tharges. We .3upply Highest Rtzl'ng 1ces BOVV2S 'CO., Lfsmited Taranto .,CENTRE OF . INTEREST A Little Leseon in LivIng enjoyed a great privilege this Summer. I was allowed to sojourn fOr" a part of any vacatiOn with the artists' colonY- which eveay summer gathers on the Ox Bow of the Kitlama- ';,00 river, ner Saugatuck, Michigan, I want to pass on to you a littlo,leS'• son,t,1 living which I learned' while' idling among the busily happy WOr- S'lligparS Of beauty who spend their holiday working with brush and pa- lette, amid the, endlessly varying chainx, of light and shadow on the oal,5 clad sand -dunes ,and ,mirroring ridr surface. , One of my first friends was practis- ing his magic upon an easeled canvas all the river bank. His subject was a little group of frame building's—the Ox Bow studio—against a baolcground of trees, The sun and shadow on the sIeping roofs -of red and. on the green' Walls -constituted the lure for his brush—or rather for his palette knife. He explained, to ine that he preferred the latter to any brush, and 1 marvel : - ed as lie spread -his oily pigment, 'but- tering his canvas as I might butter toast, and. evolving from this seeming- ly primitive process a wonder of har- mony in line and -.color -*Such as no mere, toast htutterer -ever dreamed of achieving.etve'e1 -him and ,h Bis "aubiOot stabd' another artist -at another easel, and riiy friend had put him in his picture, at the, edge of his' oanvas,, looking out towtird the edge and away frona the group of studie buildings. - Presently carie by a third member of • the colony—One whose ability and attainment had given,him the right to comment, upon the work of others, and whose criticsm was -valued as that of the seeing .eye and the understanding -heart.- , A He stood for a moment watching the palette knife as it spread the color, strengthening a high light, deepening dr subduing a shadow; and then he - spoke: • ' , I "So yon are trying to dd what dan't. be done!" lie, soid,.. It was said half-: liumorou-Sly, but with a kindly posl- • "But I think it ea,nt" answered my friend. -•, • "Yes," continued the critic. "We had,a, student at ,the.Art.,Bastitute last year who thought it -could. He,, took three months to learn he , was mis- taken." , My uninitiated mind became curious to know' Vahat was the impossible which my friend had undertaken to ;prove possible. I waited eagerly for the the argnment to disclo'Se the Canse of the controversy, unnamed as yet, but evidently understood by both. "You cannot put,a fgure in your pic- ture; on the edge of your canvas and looking out of it, and preserve its centre of intereat: You are dissipating interestp said the critic. • • "But this and this- and this, -replied my friend, indicating with his thumb the sweep of line, the maseing of light', and shadow in the coinposition of the picture, "all contribute to theinterest centre, a.n,d,I will tone down the figure I a bit." His defense was in reality an,admis- sion, and being a very wise man the 11 critic, knew it, so. he spent no words. in further argument. • ' "Very well," he concluded, "go on with Your experiment; but It can't be done," and 'wandered off to speak words of wisdom to some other adven- turer in'the enchanted realm of Art. Now being no 'artist myself, all of this might have meant little or nothing- -to me were it not for my 'habit of look- ing for the life lesson in such things. But the reakiag of a life is' in many ways like the making of a picture; and in. this- WaY BIS. much as .in any other— if life is to be effect -eve it must have a centre of interest, and everything mast contribute to it. No life oan be TOILET FIXTURES' ,..fterltvgrY-Mea Its the loull'est.lasiting COUleCtiOlil you eau by —aud Ws a help to di- gestion 'And a delmser tor ,,the inonth and teeth, %Wrigley's means ;benefit as well as pleasure. P from which, in truth, all else in the picture derives' its measure of charm and significance. . '• So as the artist anuit choose what he will have in his picture and wliat he will leave out, you, who would make a life, must Choose. First, what is your centre of interest; then, what will contribute to it—so the picture, 'and 'so the life, is made. . And as II watched these artists', I no-, ticed this --None of them was taking 'himself' 'for the- Centre of interest,. but eVerYonewho."'showed any sign'.at all of -painting good pictures was putting himself into bis painting; expressing, andlIiiiterpreting. himself in tornis of the' „world of beality about him, iii terinsof the interest to .be found in other fornis -and other faces: And: that Is also a little lesson in Hy- ing which .1 learned- this Summer --a little lesson,in beautiful' Por fOund that, as these artIiits had been making ,:their pictures of beauty they had also been making personalities, of wonderful charm.—S, J. Duncan-Ola.rk In 'Success." For. Sore • Feet--tviinaid's Llnirrient. Two. "Boss,, when, do I get my vaca- tions?"' • ' "Vacations? How many vacations do you get, huh?" , - "Well 1 get one when I go off and another when -you go."' - ' . True hail'falls only in'surnmer, and the hotter the Weather 'the larger, the hail Stones. '-.1IOUSEI.establiellett- 60 years. • r.• Pleaee write fo): our price list on; Poultry, Buller, and, Ego. We .GLTAIWN'T.it',16 t0errt 'foe a ;creek ahead. P. POUL-IN CO., LINLITED 3649 •BorliiYcours Markct, MONTREAL, QUEBEC really beautiful without such a centre, FOR SALE and its beauty can, never appeal .and satisfy as it should if there be in it rivalling elements which divert and distraet—fl,gures looking out of the canvas as if there lay elsewhere- an/ equally or more important intere.st. Many lives are marred in both beauty and usefulness by fallure-to"ob- serve this fundamental principle. It is not that there may be onlyone beautiful thing, one worth while thing Bowls, tanks, wash -basins, also heat- ing equipment, including piping eons, 125 hac. tube boiler, used lighting equipment- such se conduits switch boxes, etc., all In building being alter- ed at 73 Adelaide Street West. This material- must be sold at once. Real Estates Corporation; Limited, Top Floor, 73 Adelaide St. West, Toronto. Telephone Elgin 3101. in life, but that there mu,s-t be one,' thing Which predoininates,' 'and, to 1, whlch all,else that is lovely and worth ' While contributes," interest' and. value; COLOR IT NEW WITH "DIAMOND DYES" Beaatiful home dye- ing and tinting is guaranteed with Dia- mond Dyes, Just dip lil colcl water to tint soft, delicate shades, or boil to dye rich,. permanent color s. ' Each 10 -cent package contains directions tky1t1 {A so simple any woman A can dye or tint lin- = gerie, silks, ribbons, skirts,- waists, dresses, coats, stockings, sweaters, dmpOries, coverings, hangings, every- thing new. Buy "Diamond Dyes" ---no other kind —and tell year druggist whether the 'material you wish to color is wool or , silk, or whether 11 i Mien, Cotton, or mixed goods. 1 It Stays on the job -You can bank on '4 44" Day af le ralay,t-nonth, after Trtonth SmarsT444"A..aae will stand lite going Where the going is hardest. Oct your hardware rnara to shOW you a"44/E:Note thel;ang'and the "feel" of it- A real awe with. firetitued, finish thaf resists 1.11St. CANADA YOUNDIZIES 4.5•FORDINOSIIMEEP clIATIES 'WV ini-ki4,t .BROcK'vict.-E' ONT, -4PAI 417 111 •-• 4.5 TRUE SITE OF THE 1-10L, SEPULCHRE. PiscOvery of .Jinscribed Rock Reveals Importance V.) Gar. clltra siNe.i• Jesusalem.. Important evidence of the ' theory that the Garden Tomb' outside the Da- Inas'cus Gate ot Jerusaleni waS the real " ' tomb of Christ bus been brought to light by the discovery of an 1,1iscribed stone near the tomb's entrance. Although tile traditional site of the Holy gepulchre is in the middle of Jerusalem where stands the 'Church of Constantine, the 'carving on this shrine -stone gives additional support' , •- td those areheologisth who believe the Tomb .of the Resurreetien was eutsiclPe' the'Holy City. Tne -stone attracted the attention of Miss -Hussey, in -charge of the Garden Tomb. After partly cleaning it, she reported 1101' find to the 13ritist Gov- ernment , Department of Antiquities and a few days later it was examMed by Prof. Brandenburg, a high authority , on rock arelitocture in the, Mediter- ranean, . He identified. the stone at once as "a shrine of the geddese Cybele, or A.phrodito (Venus,), With the column and tree of „Adonis or A,ttys beside- it." He added that Such shrines, were' found in temples ..of Venus. A more careful ClealaSing fof the stone Vora out his first impressions, more carving being revealed. . Desecrated Hallowed Spot. --Now, the Emperor Hadrian, in a de- liberate ,effort,' to desecrate a spot sacred to his Christian. subjects, is known _to •-haveadrected, a Temple of Venus on the site of the" Tomb of the Resurrection in the course of his erec- tion of a new Roman 'city on tile TatTIS of Jerusalem about A.D. 135,... Outside the Garden Tomb are dis- tinct traces Of a large building, but -de- finite proof of what the building was has been lacking. ' Writing of the discovery Of the:stone in -the,'Ilimes, the Rev. C, C. Dobson says that those who view the tomb as the possible scene of the IllesUrrection have always regarded the' tfaCes as those of the Temple of„Venus••erected by I-ladrian, bat it, was felt that fur- .ther proofs, of identification were need - The shrine -stone is a small one, measuring ten inclies by seven inches. It ,lay buried in the soil in front of the rock -face containing the enti'ance to the'Garden Tomb, and about thirty- five feet from -the 'enti.a.nce The Gaaxien Tomb lies in the slope of "the Skull- just: outside "the Damascus Gate: Attention. was first drawn to it 'by the late General Gor- don a few years after its discovery in . 1867. He had become convinced ,that the so-called Skull Hill was no other than. the Hill of Calvary, and this con- viction led. to his seeking for a.nd re - unearthing this tomb. Owing to the publicity thus given to it at the time, , the tomb and surrounding ground were obtained by a German as a mat- ter' of speculation, and he offered it for sale for £2000. A -strong commit- ' tee was formed in England to purchase Britain Presetves Tomb. Ever since ihe tomb has been pre- served togeth er wlth the garden around it as possibly the most_hallow- ed spot of Christendom, although the trustees have never dogmatized about ' Some years later further remarkable discoveries were made. 'The grand adjoining proved to be an early Olivia.- tian- burial -ground, as one would ex- pect to find near the Tomb of the Re- surrection, and contained the ruins of . an early church. In a vault adjoining the tomb two tombstones were un- - earthed bearing inscriptions to "Non - nus and Onesimus, deacons of the Church of the ,Besurrection, and "buried near my Lord," although the latter inscription, less legible than the other, has been questioned. But it should be addetle tha,t those who sup- port this tomb'do not depend only on external' evidences. They find in its form of construction many interesting features, some 'of them uninue. bearing out and throwing light upon the details of the Bible ,story. , ' My Psalnl. I mourn no more 'ilay vanished!years; Beneath a tender rain, , An April rain of smiles and tears, My heart is young again. , The west winds blow, and:singing low, I hear the glad streains run; - The windows of my soul I throw" Wide open to the sttn, Nol eager forward /ler behind -I look in hope or fear; But, grateful, take the good I find, , The best of new and here. • plough no mote; a desert la,nd,To , , , barvest weed and tare; The Manna 'dropping front Rebukes my painful care. break lily pilgrimstaff--I lay Aside the foiling oar; The angel sought so far away • I welcome at my door. --Y. G. 'Whittler, Any tiro4 is a good time to start carrying rot 11 ")-i „ „ ,