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were dead!" and in a minute more he was there beside me.
When I saw him by some miracle alive, the other terrible truth came back. I covered my face with the counterpane, and hid his from my eyes.
"It has nearly killed her." said my mother. "How was it? Don't fret, Duke. She'll speak to you as soon as she takes it all in."
"Another man ran the Warrior on that fatal trip," said Duke. "I stayed in town. My Sister-the only sister I ever had, poor girl!-dropped dead of heart disease that morning, and I begged off I forgot everything but my sister, and we buried her out of town, at the old place where we were born: And I never even knew of the Warrior until this morning. You see, I'd had a blow, mother. Poor little Bis! I was very fond of her, and she had only me to look to after her husband ran away from her. I went to see her between trips every day, and I've never let her suffer for anything; that's my only comfort now. Poor little sis! Nannie, won't you look at me just once?"
I did look though I was almost dead with shame that I had doubted him so, and I put up my hand and drew his cheek down to mine; and we both burst into tears and wept together, my dear old Duke and I.
Charlotte went to packing her trunk that evening, feeling that she had no right to be forgiven, I think; but I told mother all, and we coaxed her to stay; and so she did, until after my wedding.
And now that a year has gone by, I sit here thinking over this story; and opposite me Charlotte is dressing a doll for Duke's little niece, who is her chief pet and plaything.
NO SUNDAY WORK!
At the second annual meeting of the Society for Promoting the due Observance of the Lord's Day, the Rev. Hugh Stowell stated that at a large meeting which was held at Manchester, to pebition the Legislature on the better observance of the Sabbath, a leading spinner came forward, and said that there was nothing more common than to hear from his brother spinners and master manufacturers this assertion: "If you stop the mill altogether on Sunday, you must, frequently, stop it on Monday also; be. cause if the engine gets out of order, or any necessary repair be required, it must be done on the Sunday, or the mill can. not proceed on the Monday." Now all this seems mighty plausible, said the good man, but I can prove it to be false; for in my mill never suffered a stroke to be
struck on the Sabbath. On one occasion my boiler had suffered a misfortune on a Saturday, and I feared the mill must stop on the Monday, but determined to try what could be done. I sent for a leading engineer, and said to him can you have the mill ready to work on Monday morning? Yes, certainly I can. But then, said I, do you mean to work on Sunday? Of course, sir. But, said I, you shall not do it in my mill. Bit I cannot mend the boiler if I do not, said he. I said, I do not care, you shall not work in my mill on Sunday. I would rather thar it stand still the whole of Monday, than that the Sabbath should be violated! The man said, you are different from all other masters. I said, my bible, not the conduct of others, is my rule, and you must do it without working on Sunday, or I will try and get somebody else. This had the desire effect. They set to work and worked till twelve o'clock on the Saturday night, and begin agan at twelve o'clock on the Sunday night, and the repairs were fi ushe land the mill was in full work at the usual hour on Monday morning.
A STORY FOR SMALL BOYS.
"I wish I never had to go to school another day!" exclained Hurry Dan, impatiently, while hunting around the sitting room to find his school books one morning
"You needn't go to school if you don't want to, my son," said Mr. Dean, quietly aying down his newspiper.
Harry looked astounded for a moment, and the barste loit:
"Oh, needn't I? Won't that be jolly? What times I'll have!" An off he bounded with a shot, to tell Nellie that he was never going to school any
Well, you may be a dunce then, if you like,' said Nellie; "for my part, I prefer to know something;" and she walked off with dignity
Mr. Dean was a peculiar man. He had a way of letting his children learn by their own experience, and did not so much govern them as teach them to govern themselves
Harry had a grand time that morning-at least he persua led himse i that he did--though he had to admit that playing alone was not so nice as having some one to play with.
After dinner, Mr. Dean asked him if he'd like to ride that afternoon.
"I want to show you some people who never go to school, but spend their lives having a good time,' as you boys say. If you are to spend your life so, of course such people are those you will like the best, and live with
"What sort of people are they, father?" asked Harry, with interest.
"Oh, you'll see," was the reply, as they went out to the buggy.
They rode through very pleasant wood, and over charming, rolling prairie, for about ten miles, when Harry was surprised to see his father drive up to a tree and prepare to tie his horse. "Why do you stop here, father?" he asked.
Just in that grove are the people we came to see," answered Mr Dean
Harry looked more closely, and saw three or four wigwams.
66 Yes," answered his father; "Indians are the only people I know of who never go to school, even when they have a chance, and that is the life you have chosen."
The horse was now tied, and they drew nearer. There were several wig. wams, built of broad pieces of bark laid against poles stuck in the ground. The poles came together at the top, and a hole was left for a chimney. Out of each came a thin smoke, which was a sign that it was near supper time.
Mr. Dein went up to a door and told Harry to look in
In the middle of the hut was a fire, and over it hung a black kettle with some horrible stuff boiling in it A dirty and utter y disgusting squaw was attending to the kettle, and driving out dogs and children alternately. She didn't look much like the dainty Indian maiden you have seen in pictures, with pleasant face and graceful, fringed wrappings
Far from it. An old, horrid calico jacket and cloth petticoat were her clothes, and a blanket lay there to be put over her when she had finished her work.
The men outside were lounging around, each wrapped in a blanket Some were smoking, but most of them were not even doing that; sitting or lying around, they seemed like so many dogs. They paid no attention to the visitors, so they walked around at their leisure.
When the meal was ready they had the pleasure of seeing how they took it. The squaw merely took the kettle off the fire and placed it on the ground. The family squatted around it, each putting his hand into the dish, and each trying to see how fast he could stuff himself.
"You see the women have a tolerable easy time of it, Harry," said Mr. Dean "No dishes to wash; only when nothing remains in the pot but bones, to stand it out for the dogs to lick, and then it is ready for the next meal "
"But what makes it smell so horrid in the wigwam ?" asked Harry.
"Part y the oil in which they cook their meat. By the way, wouldn't you like to taste it? and Mr Dean started to go in, but Harry took his arm.
"Oh no, father, please don't! I should choke."
Mr. Dean smiled.
"The smell comes partly from that, partly from the dried fish hanging on walls, and partly from the Indians themselves"
"Well, I'm sure I never want to put my head in again."
"It isn't very pleasant. Let us go and look at those papooses."
Sure enough, hanging from a low tree near by, were two or three little Indian babies.
Do you know how they take care of Indian babies? They take a board a little longer than the poor little thing, lay the baby on it, and wind lots of cloth around the whole The poor little thing is all bound up, clear to its chin; arms and legs all tied up; and there it stays all day, looking around, but never crying. Sometimes it hangs on a tree or bush, sometimes it stands against a rock, and sometimes it hangs on the mother's back, with droll little head and sharp black eyes peering out upon the world
Harry looked at and pitied the babies, but soon turned to some boys who were amusing themselves with bows and arrows. Mr Dean, to try their skill, threw some pennies up in the air, and they shot at them, never failing to hit the penny.
But now Mr Dean said they must go, and soon they were on their homeward way.
"Father," said Harry, "what do you
"It wasn't very nice, but it was nothing to what they will do Their ways are disgusting beyond words. They won't learn to talk English; they won't adopt any improvements in living; they prefer to live as they do, no better than brutes In the summer the men hunt and fish all the time, to get food enough to last in the winter, yet not one of them could be persuaded to raise a pig or a calf for food. If they have plenty to eat, and not much trouble to get it, they are contented.
"They ain't much like the Indians I read about in the 'Deerslayer,' father."
"No; not more than they are like the usual pictures we see of them. However, people who prefer to remain ignorant, and never go to school, are always low and degraded, and get worse as they get older."
Harry blushed a little, but Mr. Dean went on:
"Being ignorant, they are of course superstitious; they believe in signs and omens, in witches and evil eyes. They spend most of their time in the long winter in telling horrible stories of ghosts or ogres, or other fearful things, or else in bragging of their great deeds -though I guess those are few nowadays-and displaying their string of scalps. They have no higher delight than to torture any one so unfortunate as to be their prisoner. In fact, they are cruel and treacherous to the last degree."
Mr Dean said no more about the lesson he intended to give Harry, but noticed that the next morning he was the first one ready for school.
"Why Harry," said Nellie,' you go. ing to school? I thought you weren't going any more!"
"Well, I've changed my mind," said Harry quietly. "Can't a fellow change his mind?"
"It seems he can," said Nellie, as they went out the door.-Christian Advocate.
ANNALS OF THE POOR.
All I have? Yes, she is. and God help me!
But wan by wan dhrooped like, and died.
It was dreadful to lose them! Ah, was it!
It seemed like my heart-strings would break,
Do I want to kape this wan? The darlint,
God bless you! an' thim that have sent you!
O, darlint, why couldn't you wait?
A RAILROAD STORY.
"Gris" writes to the Cincinnati Times: Let me relate an incident of travel that occurred when I was a frisky young man, with a fondness for young ladies' society. Understand me, I have no distate for young ladies' society now, but they don't seem to hanker so much for mine as they did, say twenty years ago. This is natural enough; I don't blame them-only they don't know what they are missing.
A friend and myself got on board an express train to make a short trip. The car we entered was full. Only one vacant seat in fact, and that was alongside a very charming young lady. Friend and I each made a dash for that
very desirable vacant seat. It isn't a fair thing to do, as a general thing, to trip a friend, but it was allowed under the circumstances, and I gave him just the slightest trip in the world, just enough to enable me to get the start of him and obtain the coveted seat. friend took a seat on the wood-box, and looked disconsolate enough. I think I added to his discomfiture by certain triumphant winks, nods and motions, in which I indulged. The young lady was attractive, and some casual remarks one side or the otherdropped on young folks will drop a remark occasionally, and are more ready to pick it up again, than old ones-afforded an opportunity to glide easily and pleasantly into conversation.
She was witty and sprightly, and I grew unusually brilliant; that is, to the best of my recollections at this somewhat remote day. My friend observing this, looked madder than ever. At length we reached a station where the train stopped for a moment. My friend abdicated the wood-box and rushed out on the platform. Suddenly he returned, and coming quickly to me seized me by the collar, and said in a tone heard all through the car:
"Quick, now; get right off here. You can get a job here just as well as not. They tell me there is only one shoemaker in the place, and lots of work. So take your kit and get off before the train starts. No use looking any further for work Tramping all around the country for a job of shoemaking won't pay. Take work where you find it that's my motto."
He almost forced me out of the seat with his vehemence, and if I hadn't made a vigorous resistance, he would have had me out on the platform. The young lady gave me one look of supreme disgust-a tramping jour shoemaker!-then directed her gaze out of the window, and kept it there for the remainder of the journey.
My friend remounted the wood-box, and indulged in such a series of fiendish grins and malignant chuckles as would have justified me in hurling him from the car, only I was too stupefied by the proceedings to proceed against him. When I left the car the young lady looked to s e if I had forgotten my "kit," and I am satisfied that she thought I had got off to "kick for a job," as they say in shoemaker parlance.
"GOOD NIGHT, PAPA."
The words of a blue eyed child as she
It come to be a settled thing, and every
Other children had been theirs-a few months, just long enough to leave a perpetual fragrance in their home and in their hearts-and, one by one, God had taken them. Still the father did not turn; he did not see the love that prompted; he did not hear the secret voices of the great Shepherd as he took the lanib in his arms, saying, "Follow me." The mother looked and halted, she wanted to follow; but her husband lagged behind, and her woman's heart clung to him.
Then came a blue-eyed darling to the nest, folded her wings, and sang a little prattling song so full of love, the father listened as one entranced. "A healthy child," he said, as bending over the crib he looked on the sweet upturned face. And when the birdling grew stronger, and he could take her in his arms without fear of hurting the tender limbs with his rough nursing, the father's love strengthened ten fold.
Three years, and the winsome prattle of the babe crept into the avenues of the father's heart, keeping him closer to his home, but still the fatal cup was in his hand. Alas, for frail humanity, insensible to the calls of love. With unutterable tenderness, God saw there was no other way. This father was dear to himthe purchase of his Son, he could not see him perish; and calling a swift messenger, he said, "Speed thee to earth, and bring the babe."
"Good night, papa," sounded from the stairs. What was there in the voice Was it the echo of the mandate, "Bring A silvery plaintiv me the babe ?" sound, a lingeaing music that touched th father's heart, as when a cloud crosses th
to a higher life; while sounding down from the apper siairs "Gud night papa; Jessie see you in the morning," have been the means of winning to a beller way one who had shown himself deaf 'o every furmer call.
To Edwin F. Young, of Div. No. 40. TEACH, OH, TEACH ME TO FORGET.
BY FRANK PRIPLEY.
sun.“Good night.my darling:"but his lipg quiverel. and his broad brow grew pale.
Is Jessie sick, mother? Her cheeks are flushell and her eyes have a strange lighi."
“X..! sick;" and the mother stooped lo kiss the Hushed brow; "she may have plavaid too much. Per is not sick?''
"Jessie tireil, mamma; good night, papi: Jessie see you in the morning.
• Thar is all, she is only tired," said the mother, as she took the small hand. Another kiss, and the failer turned away ; but his heart was not satistied.
Sfeel lullabies were sing, but Jessie was re-t'ess and could not sleep. “Tell me a story naminia;' and the mother told of the blessed Babe that. Mary cradled, folk sing along the story till the child had grow'll to walk and play. The blue, wide openi eres filled with a strange light, as though she saw and comprehended more ihall the mother knew,
That night the father did not visit the saloon; bussing on his bell, starting from a feverish sleep, and bending over the crib, the long weary hours passed. Morn. ing revealed the truth-Jessie was smitten with the fever.
“ Kerp her quiet,” the doctor said; "a few days of good nursing, and she will be all riglit."
Wurils easily said ; but the father saw a look on the sweet face such as he had geen before. He knew the messenger was at the door. Night came.
“Jessie is sick: can't say good night, papa." and the little clasping fingers illing to the father's hand.
"0) Gr. Spare her, I cannot bear it?" was wring from his suffering heart.
Diup-sel; the mother was tireless in her watching. With her babe cradled in her arms. her heart was slow w lake in the irilib; tuing her best to solace the father's leirt. "A light case !' lhe duc tor sais; Pet will soon be well.'"
Calinly, as one who knows his doom, the father luid his hand upon the hot brow, looked into the eyes even then cıv ered with the film of death, and with all the sireng h of his manhool cried. "Spire her. () God, spare my child, and I will follow Thee."
Wi'h aliast painful effort the parched lips opene l, "Jessie's too sick ; cin't say good night, papa-in the morning. There was a convulsive shu'lder, and the claspils singers relaxed his hold-the mes-enger had taken the child.
Molinos have passe ! Jessie's crib stanila by the side of her father's couch, her blue enbroidered dress an I white h 40 hans in his closet; her boʻls, with the print of the feet. just as she last wure theru -is sacred in his eyes as they are in the mother's. Nul dead, but merely risen
Trach, oh, leach m.to forget
The false and unkind friend,
Cast my from himn then.
The look in his eyes with regret,
In places where we have met; I b-g to be forgiven-it seems navailing.
Teach, oh, teach me, to forget. One who hopelessly remembers,
Cannot bar- a thought or light, I'd rather watch the emers
of a love that once was bright. The time is coming, and
0, with what great regretThat it is tou hile, too late,
To forgive and forget.
Te ich me thy way, Oh my God
That I my never regret, "The I have sinned and deceivedI can. yes, forgive an I forget.
IMPROVEMENT IN STEAM-BOILER FUR
NACE CROWNS. We, Lee II. Waugh, John A. Hanglin, and John (trabahl, of the city of Wyan. dotie, in the county of Wyandotte and Siale of Kansas, have invented certain improvemenis in the Minner of Altachinx Crown Plates to the Fire Bixis of
Comotive and other steam Boilers, and of which the following is a specitical'on :
The main feature of our invention consists in a new method of aliachingine cruwn birs of the tire box to the crowne plate, so as to superseile the necessity of Washers around ihe bilis connecting the bars and plaies, and around which accilmulte ihe scales froll the pper surface of ihe tire houx and other substances, su) . connection with the Wilshers, materially to effect the radiation of leat torough the cruwn.place to the water in the builer
The object of the invention is to prevent this accullial slion, and in case this should occur, that in consequence of the