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men hastened to the place of observation,
and strained their eyes to discover traces
of the missing boat, but, with the excep
tion of seeing something that looked like
a buoy lying upon its side, and tossing on
the swell, they looked in vain. At last
the dawn struggled through the still
douded cast, and revealed to them that
which sent a pang to every heart—their
beautiful barge an utter ruin. By what
means they could not conceive, it was
severed wholly in two. Part of it was
hanging, buoy-like, to the dragged anchor,
and part of it was swinging in the tide,
afar off, detained by the killick* which had
been thrown out astern.
Fortunately for the unfortunate com
pany, the Texan experience of Wheeler
and the aching bones of Magruder had
prevailed upon them to take out of her,
and to bring safely ashore, all that was
most needful, and even her oars and some
of her sails. But wliat were sails and
oars without their boat ? And what were
they now to do? It was manifest that
the cruise was over , and a failure. Then
thoughts instantly turned to Tampa ;
must not their faces turn there too ? Yet
how were they to get back ? Not by wa
ter, for they had not the means; not b} 7 '
land, for a swarm of hostile savages lay
between. Were they destined to lie here
indefinitely, upon this barren coast, hem
med in by impassable waters on one side,
and by still more impassable Indians on
the other ?
* A small anchor.
Be Clean Outside and Inside.
BENNY MANSELL was a
little girl in one of the
mission schools of one of
our cities. Her father
was a drinking man, and
)ther w T as a poor hand to
,re of her children,
place they lived in was very
md they had few comforts
of any kind. But Jenny, some how or
other, always kept herself clean and neat.
Her clothes were poor, but they were not
ragged nor dirty.
Her hair was nicely combed, and her
stockings and shoes, though coarse and
patched or darned, were tidy.
Her Testament and hymn-book showed
no great spots, or the works of dirty fin
gers, and her teacher used to tell her that
it was a good sign of wanting to be clean
within where there was care to keep the
outer part clean; for cleanliness, she
thought, was a near relation to godliness.
■ —Lutheran S. S. Herald.
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
BETTER TO WAIT, AND NOT SAY
THE ANGRY WORD.
A Story for Little Girls.
BY MAMIE.
ES, you do mind it,
“I know I do. Aunt
’r^Sm t Jenny, but being so pro
voiced and much hurt made me
say so.”
Leila had had a very unkind
L tiling said about her, and by
her dearest friend, Nellie Har
ris. A French dictionary was missing
from the desk of one of the older girls at
the school which she attended. Nellie
had heard Leila say her brother George
wanted one particularly for a few days,
and remarked that perhaps Leila had
taken it—not meaning that she had taken
it to keep, but still implying a very dis
honorable action —borrowing without per
mission. Leila heard of it, and was very
angry. While telling her aunt of what
had happened, she had said she did not
mind it, but we know to the contrary.
“It seems strange that Nellie should
have said it,” remarked Mrs. Wright,
Leila’s aunt.
“Yes, that makes it all the harder,”
said Leila. “Well, if she can say such a
thing about me, I guess I can do without
her."
“Don’t talk that way, Leila; you and
Nellie have never had any trouble before,
have you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“ Wait a little, then, and perhaps it will
be made straight; besides, dear, we all do
wrong sometimes. If you were to say
anything spiteful to Nellie it might be
like the stocking you were knitting last
week : first, you dropped one stitch, which
may be compared to Nellie's unkind re
mark; and very soon two other stitches
were dropped, which being neglected, ran
farther down, making a great rent. Tou
know your mother said it must be ripped
down to where they stopped ; now, if you
let another stitch drop in the threads of
love that join your hearts, it may be long,
very long, before they are all caught.
And remember, also, the command, ‘Be
not overcome of evil—yield not to it.’ ”
There was a pause, and then Mrs.
Wright said:
“ I must go now ; Frank and Julia will
be waiting for ( mamma.’ ”
She lived in the same city with Leila’s
mother, Mrs. Gordon.
The week went quickly by. On Friday
afternoon we find Leila going to her
aunt’s. Perhaps you would like to know
that she was about twelve years old.
“0, Aunt Jennie!” she exclaimed as
soon as she saw her aunt; “ I’ve got so
much to tell you about Nellie!”
“Well, I’m ready to hear,” said Mrs.
Wright.
“ All this week we’ve been rather dis
tant ; to-day, at recess, some how or oth
er, we were left by ourselves, and were
both silent, when suddenly Nellie said :
‘I have been right mean to you, Leila; I
don’t know what made me say what I
did,’ and in a few moments all was set
tled. I feel so happy about it.”
“ I am glad too, dear,” said her aunt.
“That naughty stitch has been caught
at last, and I just give you my brightest
love, Aunt Jennie, for I know I would
have said something cross to Nellie if it
had not been for you.”
“Not me, only, Leila; there was an
holier One who helped you to do the
right.”
We will leave her here, and ask our lit
tle readers if it is not better to wait and
not speak angry words.
The French dictionary was afterwards
found, Macon, Ga.
The Little People.
f N the quiet nursery chambers,
Snowy pillows yet unpressed,
See the forms of little children
Kneeling, white-robed, for their rest.
' All in quiet nursery chambers,
While the dusky shadows creep,
Hear the voices of the children,
“Now I lay me down to sleep.”
“If we die,”—so pray the children,
And the mother’s head droops low,
(One form without her fold is sleeping
Deep beneath the winter's snow)—
“ Take our souls”—and past the casement
Flits a gleam of silver light,
Like the trailing at His garments,
Walking evermore in white.
Little souls that stand expectant,
Listening at the gate of life,
Hearing far away the murmur
Os the tumult and the strife.
We who fought beneath those banners,
Meeting ranks of foemen there,
Find a deeper, broader meaning
In your simple vesper prayer.
When your hands shall grasp the standard
Which to-day you watch from far,
When your deeds shall shape the conflict
In this universal war.
Pray to Him, the God of Battles,
Whose strong eyes can never sleep,
In the warring of temptation
Firm and true your souls to keep.
__
Be Kind to Your Mother.
“What would I not give, said Chailes
Lamb. “to call my dear mother back to
earth for a single day, to ask her pardon,
upon my knees, for all those acts by which
I grieved her gentle spirit!”
Remember this, children, and be kind
to your mothers.
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