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
„ „ ,