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i8 THE
| The Family j
THREE OLD SAWS.
If the world seems cold to you,
Kindle fires to warm it!
Let their comfort hide front view
Winters that deform it.
UAor?e no frn^nn ?/??.?. /xti.n
Ai^ai to ao LI u?>cu ao j uu i un u
To that radiance gather;
You will soon forget to moan,
"Ah! the cheerless weather!"
If the world's a wilderness,
Go build houses in it!
Will it help your loneliness
On the winds to din it?
Raise a hut, however slight;
Weeds and brambles smother;
And to roof and meal invite
Some forlorner brother.
If the world's a vale of tears.
Smile till rainbows span it!
Breathe the love that life endears,
Clear from clouds .to fan it.
Of your gladness lend a gleam
Unto souls that shiver;
Show them how dark sorrow's stream
Blends with hope's bright river!
?Lucy Larcom.
ROB'S DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.
By Elizabeth K. Hall.
It began with Hallowe'en; and although
that was some days ago, the trouble still
rankled.
It was the custom of the boys of Clinton
to make that evening a terror to all lawabiding
citizens. Not that it was noisy.
Oh, no! Quietly and stealthily did they
unhinge gates, detach door-bells, change
signs and shower beans upon the windows
of inoffensive people.
Rob's mother refused to allow him to
take part in such vandalism, and teasing
failed to move her.
Ruth proposed Hallowe'en tricks in the
house; and Aunt Kate even held out the
tempting bait of ice cream afterwards.
But even that failed to console Rob; and
he openly sulked. He had not been his
usual bright self since, and had really begun
to believe himself hardly treated.
Too much was demanded of him. Privileges
were too few.
Finally came the Declaration of Independence.
He wrote it in the study, with Father's
pet stub pen, on the largest sheet of paper
he could find. It was the Saturday
Father and Mother had gone to the city
for the day.
When it was fairly put in black and
white (largely black, for blots and erasures
were plenty), it was carefully pinned
up in the hall where all might see
and take warning.
This is the way it read:
"To all whom it may concern; be it resolved;
to wit; namely:" (Rob had found
these terms on various documents in Father's
desk, and concluded to put them all
in.) "I, John Robinson Gray, do declare:
"let. 1 won't run so many errunu.
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SOUTi
"2nd. I'll sit up till nine o'clock whenever
I want to.
"3rd. I'll be late to skule if I choose
and I don't care what any old teechur
says."
Ruth, skipping down stairs for her piano
practice was the first to see and read
with amazement.
"Robin Gray! You'll never let Father
and Mother see that?"
"Course," responded the young rebel
with dignity.
"I'd be ashamed. And I guess you'll be
so before bedtime."
With these mysterious words Ruth turned
into the parlor; only looking back to
say:
"And I'd learn to spell before I made
up such a paper as that."
Rob glared at the parlor door for a moment;
and then marching up to the paper,
added:
"4th. I'll spell wurds jest as I've a mind
to."
He did feel rather queer when he saw
Aunt Kate pause and read it through seriously.
But she only remarked:
"I suppose it's no use, Rob, to ask you
to go to the grocery and get some powdered
sugar for Bridget?"
Now, although you would hardly suspect
it, Rob was really the most accommodating
boy in the world, and the first impulse
now was to run for his "bike." But
to be consistent he felt obliged to walk
upstairs, saying, "I'm busy now," at the
bottom of his heart feeling very much
ashamed of himself.
He heard Bridget say: "An whativer
uas come over tne boy, and him always
so obligin'. Sure an' how am I going to
make his"?
"Hush! Hush!" came Aunt Kate's voice.
What were they going to make that was
his, he wondered.
Altogether it was not a very happy Saturday
morning, for Aunt Kate was invis
ible, Ruth looked at him as if he had done
something dreadful, and Bridget was as
cross as two sticks.
After the noon dinner, Aunt Kate casually
remarked:
"Mother thought you had better put on
your Sunday suit this afternoon, Rob; we
may have company to supper."
Now if there was one thing Rob usually
objected to more than all others it was
being "dressed up"; and I fear there
would have been a fifth added to the Declaration
had his auht put it in any other
way; but "Mother thought you had better"
carried the day; and three o'clock
found both-children descending the stairs
in spick and span attire, Ruth full of suppressed
excitement, and Rob grumbling:
"I don't see why Aunt Kate wanted us
ready so early."
A peal of the doorbell was the response;
and in danced Doris, their nextdoor
neighbor and dearest friend. Running
directly to Rob, she cried:
"I've come to your party, Rob. Am I
the first?"
"My party? The first?" repeated Rob in
a dazed wny; and then Aunt Kate came
laughingly to the rescue and said:
"Doris has given away" our surprise,
but only a little before you would have
ti. December 8, 1909.
known It. The others will be here in half
an hour. And, Rob, here is a note Mother
left for you."
Bob took it and read;
"My darling boy: I'm sorry I can't be
at the party; but Aunt Kate is quite equal
to managing it alone, and today seemed
the best for all the boys and girls, I hope
yuu win nave a lovely time. I do enjoy
giving my boy pleasure more than depriving
him of it; and he is usually so helpful
to us all, and minds so well what is
told him that I think he deserves a little
recognition of it once in a while.
"Yours lovingly,
"Mother."
As Rob raised his eyes after reading,
Aunt Kate and the girls looked far off and
in a mist. The only thing that stood out
distinctly was that horrid paper staring
him in the face.
In a second he had torn it from the
wall, and running into the living-room,
where a fire blazed on the hearth, he
i>uaueu 11 under the logs. The girls
watched with interest while Rob vigorously
blew the bellows, and very soon the
Declaration of Independence was nothing
but ashes.
And then?as Rob expressed it when
telling the story afterwards?"the party
came in."?The Congregationalist.
SEEKING AND FINDING.
A mission had just been held in a small
country parish. It had been noticed that
a young man, a farm servant, had before
that begun to come occasionally to the
parish prayer meeting, which was held
weekly, and to a Sunday Bible class for
men. After the end of this mission, he
came more regularly, but so far no one
imu spoKen to him. One evening, when
the prayer meeting was over, the lady
in whose house it was held stopped him
for a talk.
"How long have you cared about these
thingB?" she questioned. "I've been hunting
for eternal life for a long time," was
his response. "And have you found it?"
"Yes," was the unhesitating reply.
"When?" "On the third of December."
"Where?" "Here?no, not here?in my
room at the farm." "What led you
to it?" "It was Mrs. E. saying,
'How shall we escape if we neglect
so great salvation?'" "And what
made you begin to hunt for eternal
life?" "It was two years ago; I went
into a chapel, and the preacher said he
was saved, and I thought if he knew it.
why shouldn't I know it, too? But I was
not enough in real earnest about it, I expect,
and I hadn't faith."
Is not that the secret of so many hunting
apparently in vain for eternal life?
They are not enough in earnest about it.
Each of us needs to have a "third of December"
of our own?a day on which we
cojne to a definite decision to> accept the
gift of God, which "is eternal life." We,
too, may "know that we have eternal life"'
(see 1 John 5:13). Why not today??
M. B., in "Service for the King."
Don't bother to forgive your supposed:
enemies?Just forget them.