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For Woman’s Work.
THE SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE
GREEN.
Oh, my heart is filled with mem’ries,
Os the joyous days of yore,
When a lightsome child. I gamboled
’Round that dear old school-house door.
I can see it, now, in fancy,
Standing on the green hill’s brow,
Looking o’er the sloping verdure
Stretching to the vale below.
O’er the hillside, knots of wild-vine,
Tangling, formed a welcome shade,
Where our tired feet oft rested,
Worn with rambling in the glade.
This in front. But far behind it,
Stretched the level, grassy plain,
Where in games of merry-making,
Sought we rest for tired brain.
Here, a group of romping maidens,
Rolled the hoop, or tossed the nail,
There, a band of sturdy boyhood,
Training for their country’s call.
Happy childhood, bound together,
By such ties as ne’er they’ll know
When a broken band and scattered,
Through the wide-world’s paths, they go.
For my heart is filled with mem’ries,
Os the joys I’ve ne’er more seen,
Since a happy child, I gamboled
'Round that school-house on the green.
And my braiu is filled with visions
Os the forms I loved so well,
Who for long years have been sleeping,
’Neath the daisies, in the dell.
Sylvia Silverthorne.
For Woman’s Work.
FINE-EAR.
Ten or twelve years ago, there was in the
prison at Brest, a man sentenced to the
galleys for life. Ido not know the exact
crime, however it was something atrocious.
I never knew what his former condition of
life had been, for even his name had passed
into oblivion, and he was recognized only
by his number. His features were horri
ble—every dark and evil passion seemed
to have left its impress there; and his char
acter fully corresponded with its outward
indications. Mutinous, gloomy, and re
vengeful, he had often hazarded his life in
desperate attempts to escape, whieh hither
to had proved abortive.
Once, during winter, he succeeded in
gaining the fields, and survived the ex
tremity of cold and hunger, for several
days. He was found at length, half frozen
and insensible, under a tree, and brought
to prison again, where, with difficulty, he
regained strength. The Ward-Master
watched him more closely, and punished
him more severely by far, than the other
prisoners, while a double chain was added
to his fetters. He tried to commit suicide
by hammering a nflil into his chest, but
this, though painful, only caused a tempo
ary wound. Once he broke an iron trying
to leap off a high wall.
One day, this man’s fierce humor seemed
softened. After the hours of labor, he
seated himself with the companion in mis
ery, to whom he was chained, in a corner
of the court; and his repulsive countenance
assumed a mild expression. Words of ten
derness were uttered by the lips which
heretofore had opened only to blaspheme;
and with his head bent down, he watched
some object concealed in his bosom.
The guards looked at him in disquietude,
believing he had some weapon hidden
within his clothes; and two of them ap
proaching him stealthily from behind,
seized him roughly, and began to search
him, before he could make any resistance.
Finding himself completely in their power,
the eonvict exclaimed:
“Oh, don’t kill him! Pray don’t kill
him!”
As he spoke, one of the guards had
gained possession of a large rat, which the
felon had kept in his bosom.
“ Don’t kill him !” he repeated. “ Beatme;
chain me; do what you like with me,but don’t
hurt my poor rat! Don’t squeeze him so
between your fingers! If you will not
give him back to me, let him go free I”
and while he spoke, for the first time prob
ably, since his childhood, tears stood in his
eyes, and ran down his cheeks. Rough
and hardened men as were the guards,
they could not listen to the convict, and
see his tears without some feeling of com
passion. He who was about to strangle
the rat, opened his fingers and let it fall
to the ground. The terrified animal fled
with the speed peculiar to its species, and
disappeared behind a pile of beams and
rubbish.
The felon wiped away his tears, looked
anxiously after the rat, and scarcely
breathed until he saw it was out of danger.
Then he rose, silently followed his com
panion in bonds, and lay down with
him on their iron bedstead, where a ring
and chain fastened them to the great mas
sive bar of the same metal.
Next morning on his way to work, the
convict, whose pale face showed he had
passed a sleepless night, cast an anxious,
troubled glance toward the pile of wood,
and gave a low, peculiar call, to which
nothing replied. One of his comrades ut
tered some harmless jest, on the loss of his
favorite, and the reply was a furio'us blow,
which felled the speaker, and drew down
on the offender a severe chastisement from
the task-master. Arrived at the place of
labor, he worked with feverish ardor, as
though trying to give vent to his pent-up
emotion; and while stooping over a large
beam, which he and some others were
trying to raise, he felt something gently
touch his cheek; he turned round and gave
a shout of joy. There, on his shoulder was
the only friend he had in the world—his
rat!—who, with marvelous instinct, had
found him out, and crept gently up to his
face. He took the animal in his hands—
covered it with kisses, placed it within its
nest, and then, addressing the head goaler,
who passed by at the moment—he said:
“ Sir, if you will allow me to keep this rat,
I will solemnly promise to submit to you
in everything, and never again to incur
punishment.” The ruler gave a sign of
acquiescence, and passed on.
The convict opened his shirt, to give one
fond look at his faithful pet, and then con
tentedly resumed his labor.
That which neither threats nor imprison
ment, the scourge, nor the chain could effect,
was accomplished, and rapidly, by the in
fluence of love, though its object was one
of the most despised amongst animals.
From the moment when the formidable
convict was permitted to cherish his pet,
night and day in his bosom, he became the
most tractable man in the prison.
His Herculean strength, and his moral
energy, were both employed to assist the
governors in maintaining peace and sub
ordination.
Fine-Ear —so he called his rat, was the
object of his unceasing tenderness. He fed
it before he tasted each meal, and would
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rather fast entirely, than allow it to be
hungry.
He spent his brief hours of respite from
toil, in making various little fancy articles
which he sold, in order to procure dainties
which Fine-Ear liked—gingerbread and
sugar, for example. Often, during the
period of toil, the convict would smile
with delight, when his little friend would
creep from its nestling place, and rub its
soft fur against his cheek.
But when on a fine bright day, the rat
took a position on the ground, smoothed
his coat, combed his long mustaches with
his sharp nails, and dressed his long ears
with his delicate paw, his master would
testify the utmost delight, and exchange
tender glances with the black, roguish eyes
of Master Fine-Ear.
One day, a prisoner—having thrown a
pebble at the rat—was forced to spend
a wfeek in the hospital, ere he recovered
from the effects of a blow bestowed on him
by Fine-Ear’s Master. The animal soon
learned to know the sound of the dinner
bell, and jumped with delight on the con
vict’s shoulder when he heard the welcome
summons.
Four years passed on in this manner,
when one day poor Fine-Ear was attacked
by a cat, which had found her way into
the work-shop, and received several deep
wounds, ere his Master seized the feline
foe, and actually tore her to pieces. The
recovery of the rat w*as tedious.
It was strange, the interest which every
one connected with the prison, took in
Fine-Ear’s misfortune. Even the hospital
nurses furnished bandages for the wounds.
At length the animal recovered, save that
one hind paw dragged a little. He was
more tame and affectionate than ever.
A great pleasure was in store for the con
vict. Thanks to his good conduct during
the past four years, his sentence for life
had been commuted to twenty years, in
which was included the fifteen already
spent in prison.
“Thank God?” he cried, “under His
mercy it is Fine-Ear I owe this happiness
to.” And he caressed the animal in trans
port of joy. Five years more remained to
be passed in toilsome imprisonment, but
they were cut short in an unlooked for
manner.
One day a mutinous party of felons suc
ceeded in seizing a turnkey, and having
shut him up with themselves in one of the
dormitories, they threatened to 'put him
to death if all their demands were not
instantly complied with, and a full anmesty
granted for their revolt.
Fine-Ear’s Master, who had taken no
part in the uproar, stood silently behind
the officials and soldiers, who were ready
to fire on the insurgents. Just as the at
tack was about to commence, he approach
ed the chief superintendent, and said a few
words to him in a low voice.
“ I accept your offer,” replied the gover
nor. “ Remember, you risk your life; but
if you succeed, I pledge my word that you
shall be strongly recommended to the gov
ernment for unconditional pardon, this
very night.
The convict drew forth Fine-Ear from
his bosom, kissed him several times, and
then placing him within the vest of a
young fellow prisoner, with whom the rat
was already familiar, said in a broken
voice: “ If I do not return, be kind to him,
and love him as I have loved him.” Then
having armed himself with an enormous
bar of iron, he marched with a determined
step to the dormitory, without regarding
the missiles which the rebels hurled at his
head. With a few blows of his bar, he
made the door fly open, and darting into
the room, he overturned those who opposed
his entrance, threw down his weapon, and
seizing the turnkey, put him or rather flung
him out, safe and sound into the passage.
While in the act of covering the men’s
escape, he suddenly fell to the ground
bathed in blood. One of the wretches had
lifted the iron bar, and struck down with
it, his heroic comrade.
He was carried, dying, to the hospital,
and ere he breathed his last, he uttered one
word; it was, “ Fine-Ear!”
Must I tell it? the rat appeared restless
and unhappy for a few days, but he soon
forgot his kind master, and began to testify
the same affection for his new master,that he
had formerly shown to him who was dead.
Fine-Ear still lives fat and sleek, and
strong; indeed he no longer fears his feline
enemies, and has actually succeeded in
killing a full grown cat and three kittens.
But he no longer remembers the dead,
nor regards the sound of his master’s num
ber, which formerly made him raise his
ears and run from one end of the court to
the other.
Does it only prove that rats, as well as
men, may be ungrateful ?
Or is it a little illustration of the wise
and merciful arrangement, that the world
must go on, die who will?
But of all things, it teaches the power of
love. Will not the little readers of this
story remember to be good and kind, and
even the roughest, most hardened heart,
will succumb to the sweet and holy influ
ence of love. C. B.
For Woman’s Work.
A TROUBLED CONSCIENCE.
GERTRUDE MARVIN.
Nelson Walton was only an outcast,
with no loving mother or kind father to
guide and instruct him. His parents died
when he was young, and he was left to
fight his way on the battle-field of life as
best he could.
One day he was standing idly on the
street, when two ladies passed. They had
walked only a short distance, when one of
them dropped her purse. After waiting a
moment, Nelson stealthily crept to where
it lay, and quickly placed it in his poc.ket.
His conscience told him that he ought to
restore the purse to its owner, but he heed
ed not its warning; the temptation was too
great.
He hurried away to some secluded spot,
where he could count over the money all
alone. The purse contained several bills
and a quantity of silver, and Nelson felt
quite rich. But he had an uneasy feeling,
such as he had never experienced before.
When night came, and he lay down to
rest, he could not sleep.
“ If I could only sleep,” he said to him
self, “then I would forget it all.”
At last he did reach dream-land, but he
could find no peace there; all was trouble
and discontent for him. He was walking
alone in a meadow, through which rippled
the waters of a sparkling brook; birds
chirped merrily in the trees, and every
thing was bright and beautiful; but some
thing haunted him so, that, notwithstand
ing his pleasant surroundings, he could not
rest.
Presently he paused, he thought he
heard a voice, but, glancing around, he saw
no one, and decided it was only his imagi
nation. But, again he heard whispers, and,
listening intently, he caught these words :
“What shall it profit a man if he gain the
whole world, and lose his own soul ?” and
then he heard no more.
Nelson was young, being only fourteen,
but as he studied those words, he fully com
prehended their meaning. He threw him
self upon his knees, and begged forgive
ness of his Heavenly Father for the wrong
he had committed. He was granted this,
and then he felt so happy—it was such a
change.
* * * • •
A policeman passing along the street
early one morning, saw the form of a boy
lying in a good’s box. His clothes were
torn and untidy, and his face wore a tired,
troubled expression. The policeman, rais’-
ing him, spoke, but the answer was con
fused, the words being scarcely audible.
Something dropped from the boy’s pocket,
and the man, seeing it was a purse,'picked
it up; and then he carried him to his
home, which was not far distant.
Poor child! his brain was racked with
fever, brought on by the great uneasiness
the stolen article had caused: wrong doing
always brings heaviness of heart, and
trouble.
He was put to bed and cared for by lov
ing hands. The purse was advertised in
the daily paper, and was soon restored to
its owner.
After two weeks’ illness Nelson recovered
consciousness, and then he remembered all
that had happened. He confessed his guilt,
and begged that the lady from whom he
had taken the purse might come and see
him, that he might ask her forgiveness.
She came, spoke words of love and encour
agement to him, and as she bade him good
bye, told him that she hoped, by God’s
help, he would become a noble man.
One day, soon after this, Mrs. Richmond
(the policeman’s wife) was sitting by Nel
son’s bedside, talking to him, when she be
gan to make inquiry about his life. He
told her all, and she learned by this infor
mation that he was her own cousin’s child.
Mrs. R. had recently come to the city from
a distant State, and did not know that she
had any relatives residing in the place.
She felt very thankful that she had found
the boy in time to save him from a life of
degradation and sin.
Nelson now had a home where he was
cared for and trained to live in such away
as to make the world happier and better
for his having lived in it.
New Picture Frames -The new picture
frames of oak or chestnut, shaded by the
rubbing in of umber, from light at the in
side to dark at the outer edge, are the latest
in their line. They are especially effective
when used around a tinted print of a shade
nearly matching the inner edge of the frame.
It is predicted, however, that they will
soon become too common and go out of
fashion. Some dealers in New York won’t
put such frames on pictures sold by them
at all, claiming that the style violates ar
tistic taste. At one dealer’s a still more
striking frame is having a run of populari
ty. It is of broad oak with real bars half
an inch thick, colored to look like iron, set
across it from side to side. Imitation hinges
on one side and a real looking padlock on
the other increase the resemblance to the
barred door of a cage. With a picture of
the head of a lion or other beast behind it
the effect is startling, if not strictly artistic.
—New York Sun.
The happiness of your life, and its power,
and its part and rank in earth or in heaven,
depend on the way you pass your days
now.— Ruskin.