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THE BREAD-FRUIT TREE.
u the South Sea Islands grows
a very remarkable tree, call-
ed the bread-fruit tree. You
have doubtless often seen pic
tures of it, and formed a general im
pression of a fine, wide-spreading tree,
with excellent loaves of bread growing
all over its branches, waiting for some
body to pick them off and slice them up
and butter them.
It was a very natural idea, but bald
ly correct in all respects. The bread
fruit is, in reality, a large berry about
the size of a watermelon, and when you
peel off the skin of the ripe fruit you
come down to a delicate white pulp, a
little tart, which looks somewhat like
wheaten bread. The natives cut this
berry into quarters and roast it in hot
coals, when it makes a very good sub
stitute for bread. There are various
other ways of preparing it, but this is
the most common.
But while the bodies of those natives
are thus supplied with bread, their poor
souls are perishing for want of the bread
of life. Jesus says: “I am the bread
of life;'’ but they have not knowledge
of Jesus, and so their souls die of
famine.
You know that if we have the nicest
bread on our tables it will do us no
good unless we eat of it. So, if we do
not take Jesus for our Saviour we shall
ba no better off than those poor island
ers.
The bread-fruit tree supplies many
other wants of the body. The inner
bark is a tough, white net-work which
serves them for cloth. The broad green
leaves answer well for wrapping-paper.
The wood is used for building their
boats and houses, and a milky juice,
which issues forth wherever it is wound
ed, is boiled with cocoanut oil and
makes an excellent cement.
Jesus Christ, the bread of life, sup
plies every want of the soul. He can
make up for the loss of everything else.
A minister went to visit a poor old
man in a miserable, smoky hut, through
which the rain dropped down upon his
sick bed, and asked him of his welfare.
“ Oh,” he said, with a bright glad
smile in his face, “ I am sitting under
his shadow with great delight.” That
poor man ate of the bread of life, and
he never hungered.
A blind boy used to thank God for
clouding his eye; “for,” said he, “I
never saw until I was blind.” He had
never before seen himself to be a sinner
and Jesus Christ as a great Saviour.
Now this bread of life supplies all his
wants.
A poor converted heathen woman lay
on her dying bed, when the good mis
sionary asked her of her state. <l I
have Christ here,” she said, clasping
her precious Bible to her breast. “And
Christ here,” she added, laying her
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
hand on her heart. “And Christ there,”
she continued, pointing upward.
Oh, if you have never taken of this
bread ot life, do not wait longer. Ma
ny, many poor souls are dying of fam
ine, even while an abundant feast is
spead before them. Do not be of their
number.— Sunday School Visitor.
——■».
Written for Burke’s Weekly,
vv YARN DPEiOOVr
UNCLE BOB’S LOG BOOK;
OK,
A True Tale ©f the Ala&aitt®.
X the weather is so rough and
stormy as to prevent your
going to school, boys, and the
farm work is at a stand-still, Uncle
Robert will gratify your oft-repeated
request, and “spin you a sailor’s yarn;”
or, in plainer words to you land-lubbers,
relate you some incidents of his sea-far
ing life. I shall not disappoint you, I
am sure, when I take for a subject the
far-famed hero, Admiral Raphael
Semmes, a name so dear to memory and
our lost cause.
“ I intend, at present, only to give
you an account of the fight between the
Kcarsarge and Alabama, reserving for
future rainy days, other leaves from our
log-book. Harry will say that this be
ginning the cruise at the fight, which
closed the brilliant career of our gal
lant little ship, is like the Chinaman’s
writing, commencing at the back of the
book, and so it seems, but I want to
impress upon your mind the leading
features of a mortal combat of no ordi
nary interest, and about which much
that has been written is most untrue.
Almost alone, without one hospitable
port in which to enter, and braving the
prowess of a powerful foe, the Alabama
drove from the ocean almost their en
tire mercantile marine, and causing a
twinge of pain at each new injury in
flicted on their commerce, by our gal
lant little ship.
“ Uncle,” said Johnny, with childish
impatience, “let us have the fight.—
Though I have read it in 1 Service
Afloat,’ I want to hear it from you,
who were on board.”
“ Well, my boy, when we entered the
harbor o f Cherbourg w e expected,
with the permission of the French gov
ernment, to have our ship in dock for
repairs in less than twenty-four hours,
for our cruise, you know, had been one
of constant activity. We took the best
care we could of her, but she was made
of light material, being often pressed
with all the sail she could stand un
der, giving chase to some majestic
clipper, laden with rich cargoes from
the East, or in the stormy North Atlan-
The Bread-Fruit Tree.
tic, overhauling in a half gale, splendid
packets, bearing grain to European
markets, and this heavy service wore
upon her, working loose her timbers,
and wearing off her copper. Her ma
chinery and boilers were also sadly in
want of repairs.
“ Her battery was, to be sure, in
‘ apple pie order,’ and our gallant crew
had been so thoroughly drilled that the
exercise at general quarters, or engag
ing a ship in battle, was at their finger
ends !
“ Such was the condition of the Ala
bama ; when the third day after our
arrival, anxiously awaiting a permit t,o
dock for repairs, the Kcarsarge came
into port flaunting a prodigious flag!
This was tantalizing in the extreme I
but the enemy, no doubt, delighted in
bullying an almost helpless foe, who,
they knew, had sought a port to under
go repairs, for they had heard of our
arrival at Cherbourg. You may be sure
we were not long in studying every
point of our adversary from truck to
water-line! and many were the fine
glasses brought out to scan her chosely.
“ She presented a smooth black hull,
and her principal guns being pivoted,
we could gain no information of her
battery.
“Pivot guns, boys, are so called
from the fact that they can be fought on
either side of the ship, or, indeed, di
rected to any point of the compass, and
held to their position by what are call
ed fighting bolts pivoted in sockets to
the deck of the ship. Thus, we knew
nothing of her battery, nor did we
know of her armor of mail, which she
secretly carried under an outer coat of
smooth wood work. Had our captain
known that she was protected by chain
armor he would not have risked the
lives of his gallant crew, or the loss of
his noble little ship, by giving battle to
an iron-clad!
“ What do you suppose, boys, would
be thought of two men going out to
fight, one wearing under his clothes
chain armor, protecting his vital parts,
while his opponent wore only his ordi
nary dress?
“ Captain Semmes made up his mind
at once to engage the enemy, for more
reasons than one, no doubt. He had,
up to this time, observed, save in the
sinking of the Hatteras, the instruc
tions from our Government, to avoid
engagements with the enemy’s cruisers,
as our feeble force afloat could not
combat with their powerful navy;
while, by a different course, we might
do great damage to their commerce,
and cripple them in their most vital
part—their pocket—as up to this time
he had been faithful to his mission.—
Now, with his vessel in want of repairs,
to have an enemy of apparently his own
size, but heavier built, flaunt her flag
in his face, was too great a trial to his
gallant spirit. He argued, no doubt,
that as his battery was in fine condition,
and his crew to be relied on for their
perfect drill and tried bravery, a few
more shot holes would add but little to
the needed repains, and possibly anoth
er cruiser to our infant navy. Then,
too, if he remained in port, the enemy
would have time to collect a numerous
fleet and swarm the Brittish channel
with their most formidable vessels of
war, which they most assuredly would
have done to secure the capture of the
famous Alabama —in which event she
could never more have been of service
to the Confedeaate Government unless
she fought and conquered the Kearsage,
a vessel not of sufficient size to discour
age our engaging her with success, bar
ing always, boys, the concealed armor.
“ We were not long in getting the
ship ready for the fight, our heaviest
work being to take in coal, of which we
had very little on board. Our crew,
anxious for the fray, set to work with
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