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The Door to the House
There were Idle thoughts came in the door,
And warmed their little toes.
And did more mischief about the house
Than any one living knows.
They scratched the table, and broke the
cbal.s,
And soiled the floor and wall;
For a motto was written above the door;
“ There’s welcome here for all.’’
When the master saw the mischief done,
He closed it with hope and fear,
And he wrote above. Instead, “ Let none
Save good thoughts enter here."
And the good little thoughts came trooping
io,
When be drove the others out;
They cleaned the walls, and they swept the
' floor,
And sangas they moved about.
And last of all an angel came.
With wings and a shining face,
And above the door he wrote, "Here love
Has found a dwelling place."
For the Indkx.
When the Stars Fell In Thirty Three.
JULIA B. REED, EATONTON.
The morning bell, on the
Brown plantation, rang “two
hours be sun”—in plantation
dialect—that as the sun first
blushed into the sky, every
“hand” might be in the field
armed with hoe, cotton bag, or
“geeing” to the plow horse, ac
cording to the season.
The bell hour was not changed,
in Mississippi, until December,
and this was but the thir
teenth of November; so,
while it was yet dark, Un
cle Titus mechanically opened
his cabin door to go out and wake
the negroes.
He staggered back a moment,
and clutched the door for sup
port; then, falling on his knees,
a saintly triumph flashing in the
old face seamed with the years’
conflicts, shouted, while the
stars of heaven fell like rain
about him. “Glory !glory! jedg
mentday es come! jedgment day
es come. Glory ! glory ! glory!”
Piteous were the shrieks and
wails of the negroes as they
threw themselves on the ground
beat back the stars from their
faces, hid their heads under their
garments, or fled to the pond and
river, while Uncle Titus stood at
the bell pole, calling between
each sound of the bell, “Jedg
ment day is come! Prepare to
meet yo’ God!’, and all things
material were veiled in a mist of
stars, and the air, and earth, and
sky, shone with a golden splen
dor.
A boy sprang down the steps
of the master’s house.—“ Save
me! save me, Uncle Titus, save
me! I am lost! lam lost!” he
cried in the agony of despair.
The hands were hard and knot
ty that lifted the “little master,”
but they were wet with tears;
and caressing was the voice that
moaned, “Why you wait, little
master ? Why you wait till hit
too late? Gab i dun blowed now.
Ise been’er tellin’ you! I’se
been’er tellin’ you!”
In hopeless woe, old Titus
rocked himself bajk and forth on
thecabin steps. —“little master”
held close in his arms.
“James!” Elisha Brown bent
tenderly over the frenzied boy.
“James, my boy,” he repeated,
“this is the Lord’s doing and it
is wonderful in our eyes. It may
be the fulti ment of some natural
law —the north star is steady;or,
it may be that the great and not
able day of the Lord is come.
But, my boy”—how wistful the
tone! —“in either case, our Christ
is an Ark.”
‘ Father —I—am —lost—it —is
—too—late.” The last words
were a whisper. The eyes
closed, and the anguish of spirit
was lost in unconsciousness.
“Titus, carry James to his
mother,” said Eiishaßrown, in a
broken voice.
Through the glittering shower,
their hearts beating with but
one prayer—silent, they passed
to the “big house.”
Day streaked the east with yel
low and rose, and the stars
glimmered and paled in the ris
ing sun's greater light.
On most of the plantations,
the negro’s right to Saturday
afternoon was unquestioned; but,
here and there, through Missis
sippi, one now finds an aged
“Uncle,” or a turbaned “mam
my,” who will tell him of this no
table Saturday, November 18th,
1833, that was a whole holiday, a
day in which old enemies clasped
hands and asked forgiveness; a
day in whijh the dust was blown
from many a Bible, and knees
long stiffened bowed; a day in
which cries for pardon, and
shou’s of halleluj xh made Satan’s
host tremble
It was a sweet, clean place,
that chintz-curtaired room, with
its high mahogany bed mounted
by three steps, white washed
hearth, and sanded floor.
“James’ —it was the tender
call of a little woman in snowy
cap and apron, sitting on the top
step at ihe bed holding her boy’s
hand—“for years the Lord has
been calling thee. Dost thou re
member, my son, how, last sum
mer, I urged thee to give thyself
to Christ, to lay thy hopes, am
bitions and joys in his hand, and
let him direct thy life?”
A moan muffled in the pillow
was the only answer.
“Ah! dear child,” she contin
ued, pressing the hot hand tight
er, “open the window of thy soul
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX : THURSDAY, JUNE 25 1896
and let in the Lord Jesus. You
have shut him out so long; yet,
he waits.” “James”—her voice
grew awful in its tenseness —“I
believe he is coming to night, in
glory and power; and now, even
now, he may be calling for the
book to close —and your name
not written on its pages! Quick,
my boy! Believe, and thou
shalt be saved.”
She quivered with an emotion
“too deep for tears.”
“Mother, I am lost!” It was
the shriek of a soul looking upon
its own blackened image.
Susan Brown leaned eagerly
forward as she strained James’
hand to her breast, and murmur
ed, “Let him that is athirst
come.”
“That is me, mother, that is
me!”
The ray of hope that shot from
the sunken eyes died the moment
it was born, and he adeed drear
ily:
“But—l don’t know how to
come.”
His mother’s hot tears fell on
his hand; and, as a magic oil,
they fell on the rusty hinges of
his heart’s door.
The Spirit’s finger touched it
—it flew open—and faith entered.
“Mother,’ he whispered, “he
will show me the way. I believe
that.” Susan Brown drew him
to her, kissing him as only a
mother can kiss.
“My boy, stand firm on that
rock, and the Christ will do the
jest.”
Then she took up her candle
and left the room.
The fires did not go out that
night, and the voices of the
watchers were low, lest the first
note of the angels’ hosannas be
lost.
And, as they watched, the
Sabbath dawned.
Solemnly, pleadingly, rang ou
the early church bells, faint by
distance; “Turn, 0, sinners, wfiy
will ye die!”
*******
The minister’s hands were ex
tended to pronounce the benedic
tion, when an old brother rose,
saying, }“Bro. Scarborough, the
Lord has given us mighty signs
of his early coming. Will it not
be well for us to remain here,
in God’s house, that we may
greet the Master with prayer and
praise?”
“My little children,” said the
old minister, “goto your homes
and there fulfill the duties the
Master has appointed, that when
he comes he may find you lov
ing, working, praying, praising,
all at once. Remember love is
obedience; and honestly, trust
ingly, for his sake, doing the
work he has given you to do, is
both prayer and praise.”
The heads bowed —and the
blessing fell.
The congregation passed out
of the church; but James sat mo
tionless in the pew.
Elisha turned to speak to him.
••Let him alone, Elisha,” said
his wife softly. “The Lord hath
need of him here.”
* * * * » *
‘‘Just as I am, without one plea.
But that thy blood was shed for me,
And that thou bid'st me come to thee,
O, Lamb of God, I come, I come.”
in a clear, sweet tenor, floated
out through the church window.
And James steeped in the sun
set’s glory, his upturned face
transfigured with ineffable peace
and joy, his burnished hair
shining as a crown of gold, seem
ed to those crossing the grave
yard to “early candle light” ser
vice, the prophetic vision of one
who would shine as the stars of
heaven, and gleam in the rai
ment of saints.
“ Who is She ? ”
A New York physician relates
the following fact:
A few weeks ago he was called
to the help of a man who was
mortally wounded in one of the
low dance halls, or “ dives” of
that city. When he had attended
his patient, the doctor looked cu
riously about him. The wounded
man lay before the bar, against
which lounged some drunken old
sols. In the next room a few
young men, flushed and bright
eyed, were playing cards, while
the gaudily dressed bar maids
carried about the liquor. But
neither the gamblers nor the
women, nor the drunkards, paid
any attention to the dying man
on the floor. They squabbled
and laughed, deaf to his groans.
The proprietor of the dive, a
burly fel'ow, who had been a
prize fighter in his younger days,
having seen the police secure the
murderer, had gone back quietly
to bis work of mixing drinks.
Death, apparently, had no inter
est or terror for these people.
Suddenly a little old woman
with white hair, a thin shawl
about her, came to the street
door. Her appearance produced
a startling effect. The besotted
old men at the bar put down
their glasses and looked uneasy;
the card players hastily shut the
door to keep out of sight of her
and the bar maids huddled to
gether in silence; but the change
in the brutal landlord was most
striking. He rose hastily and
came up to her, an expression of
something like terror on his
face.
“ Is James here?” she asked
gently.
“ No, no; he is not here. Ido
not know where he is,” he said
hurriedly.
She looked around bewildered,
and said:
“ I was sure he was here. If
he comes, will you tell him his
mother wants him, sir ?”
“Yes, yes,”he said—and the
man urgi d her out of the door.
The physician soon followed,and
saw her into another and
another dive and grog-shop along
the street.
“ Who is she ?” he asked of a
policeman outside. “Is she in
no danger ?”
The man shook his head sig
nificantly. “ They will not harm
her, sir. They’ve done their
worst to her. She is the widow
of a clergym in, and she had one
son, a boy of sixteen years. They
lived happy and comfortable
enough till he took to going to
pool-rooms, and then to the va
riety theatres, and at last to
these dives hers. He was killed
in one of them in a fight three
months ago, in that very o le you
was just now in; and was carried
home to her, bloated from drink,
covered with blood and dead.
She knows nothing since. She
only remembers that he came to
these houses, and she gees about
them searching for him every
day. They are afraid to see her.
They think she brings a curse on
them. But they won’t harm
her; they’ve done their worst to
her.”
This is a true story. How
many sons of loving mothers are
going down like this boy into
these dark places to-day ?
Youth's Companion.
The Sin of Worrying.
This is one of the commonest
of sins. It also is one of the
most reprehensible. Many to
whom gross temptations present
no attraction, yield to this one
almost without a struggle. It is
wholly unreasonable, and, when
allowed to become a habit, it is
full of torment. It spoils one’s
own peace and renders one a
source of continual distress and
annoyance to others.
Worrying is fretting ’ because
matters have gone wrong or are
supposed to be destined to go
wrong. If the former be true,
worrying does no good, even
when we are conscious of having
been in fault. Go to work brave
ly and remedy what is amiss, so
far as possible, and what cannot
be remedied, bear with Christian
patience and courage. If the
latter be true, do not assume
that the threatening evil must be
fall, but do your best to prevent
or lessen it, and remember that
God allows evil as well as good
to happen, that seeming eyil
often results in blessing, and
that should the worst come,
probably in time you will find
reason to thank God for it.
No one has any right to throw
the doubt upon the divine wis
dom and goodness which worry
ing involves. No one may right
ly depress ard discourage others
thus. Worrying is distrusting
God. It is refusing to believe
that his promises are true and
that his power is invincible. It
is peculiarly dangerous and dis
heartening because it finds such a
field in the realm of little things.
It promotes peevishness, suspi
cion and needless fault finding.
It warps one's sense of moral
proportion, making light of seri
ous things and magnifying mole
hills into mountains.
Cheerfulness is as truly a
Christian duty as truthfulness,
and worrying undermines both.
Let us trust in God and fear not.
Cultivate hopefulness, and the
worries of life will take on a less
formidable aspect or will vanish
altogether.— Christian Work.
Ihe Sweet Sleep of Childhood.
Sleep, far more than the wak
ing hours, is the period of
growth in childhood. It is wise
for us to make our children’s
sleep as sweet as possible. Give
the dear little folks as little to
worry over and to dream about
as you can. Let your child al
ways go to sleep with a glad
thought in its heart and a smile
on its face. The next morning,
as it springs from its bed, the
glad thought will burst out in
songs, and the smiles in shout
of laughter. If a wrong has to
be reproved, let the child be as
sured of forgiveness and kt the
mother be assured that forgive
ness is accepted before the eyes
shall close. Let the child fall
asleep loving all and assured of
the love of all. Then, after the
little prayer has been said, the
child at peace with all on earth
and with the smile of heaven’s
love on its face, will drop away
into peaceful slumber with iis
soul all unruffled and unsoiled,
as white and smooth as a freshly
washed and iron piece of snow
white linen. It is a piece of
downright cruelty, one of the
crimes which law cannot reach,
for a thoughtless and fretful
mother to scold her children
away from her presence at night
and to drive them to bed with
sharp and angry words. Can
anything be sadder to look upon
than the face of a child, drawn
even in sleep with the poignancy
of its youthful sorrows and with
I the wells of its grief suffusing its
eyelashes and gemming its cheek
with crystal tears '.—Christian
Herald,
Measuring Time.
The earliest device for meas
uring time was doubtless the sun
dial It is simply a round plate
or disc of metal, with a small
piece of metal standing upright
in such a position that when the
sun shines, the shadows will be
thrown upon the round cylinder
or disc, around which are figures
like those on the face of a watch
or clock. Such methods of meas
uring time we know were used at
least seven hundred and thirteen
years before Christ, for in the
book of Isaiah, 28th chapter and
Bth verse, we find a very direct
allusion to it. King Alfred of
England used to use candles that
were of uniform length; each
candle would burn three hours,
and by burning four candles, one
after another, he could measure
the hours of the day. In order to
prevent the air from blowing
against the candle and thus mak
ing it burn more rapidly or inter
fering with its accuracy in meas
ing time, he placed a born or
shield around it, and in the old
cathedrals this was the way they
measured time. Later on they
had hour glasses, such as you
sometimes see placed on the piano
when girls are practicing their
music lesson. Sometimes you
see small ones in the kitchen,
which are used for timing the
eggs while they are boiling, and
it is to these forms of glasses
that various poetical allusions are
made when death is spoken of
as the “sands of life” running
out.
Later came the clocks. They
were first made about two thou
sand years ago, but were very
rude and awkward. The first
watches were made about four
hundred and fifty years ago, but
they were very large, and you
would almost need a man to carry
your watch for you, it was so
heavy. Smaller watches were
first made about two hundred
years ago, and now they have
some that are so very small that
you could carry six or seven in
your vest pocket without incon
venience.
I was wondering the other day
why the clock should have the
long hand to point to the min
utes, and the short hand to the
hours; but after all,it seems very
wise that the greater emphasis,
that the greater importance,
should be attached to the longer
hand. It points to the minutes,
as though it were constantly say
ing to you and to me, look out
for these minutes, look out for
these small parts of the hour,and
the whole hour will take care of
itself. The big hand points to the
minutes, because, after all, they
are the important things. It is
like the old saying, “if we take
care of the pennies, the dollars
will take care of themselves.” If
we will take care of the minutes,
the hours will take care of them
selves.
D.d you ever stop to think that
a man who is thirty-five years old
has had five solid years of Sun
days? And the man who is sev
enty years old has had ten solid
years of Sundays? With ten
years given to worship and the
study of God’s word, a man of
seventy ought to know a great
deal concerning the teachings of
the Bible. May God teach us to
so number our days that we may
apply our hearts unto wisdom.—
Ex.
Taking a Stand.
‘ A missionary who is laboring
among seamen relates that, one
night, at the close of a prayer
meeting, a young sailor who had
only a few nights before been
converted, came up to him and
asked him to write a few words
on a card for him. “What shall
I write - '” he asked. “Wri e
this: T love Jesus, do you?’ ”
After writing the words, he
asked the sailor what he was go
ing to do with the card. He re
plied: “I am goiug to sea to
morrow, and I am afraid if I oo
not take a stand at* once I may
begin to be ashamed of my relig
ion; so I am going to nail this
card on my bunk, and that will
let every one know at once that
I am a Christian.”
Brave and wise young man!
The difficulty with many young
disciples is that they fail to take
a stand for their Master. We
once knew an old sea captain—a
man who lived a grand and ever
faithful Christian life—who said
that when he became a Christian
he nailed his flag to the mast
head and never for one moment
allowed it to be taken down.
This is what young Christians
ever need to de. If at the very
outset they make their religion
conspicuous, they will have little
trouble afterward: But if they
parley with duty and shrink from
avowing themselves, they are al
most sure to bring reproach
upon the Master they profess to
serve and distress to their own
hearts. How beautiful the con
duct of the young sailor! Who
would not have his courage and
receive Lis reward?
In presenting your petitions to
the heavenly throne, do not fcr
get to entwine about them the
garlands of praise.— Ex
©hiXtlrcn’ft (Corner*
Ralph's Opinion of Grandmothers.
Grund mot hers lire very nice folks;
They beat all the aunts in creation;
They let a chap do as he likes
And don’t worry about education.
I’m sure I can't see at all
What a poor fellow ever could do
For apples and pennies and cakes,
Without a grandmother or two.
Grandmothers have niutHns for tea.
And pies, a whole row In the cellar:
And they're apt. If they know It In time,
To make chicken pie for a "feller."
And if be Is bad now and then,
And if he makes a racketing noise,
They only look over their specs,
And say: “Ah, those boys will be hoys!
“Life Is only so short at the best;
Let the children be happy to day,"
Then they look for awhile at the sky
And the hills that are far, far away.
Quite often, as twilight comes on,
Grandmothers sing hymns very low
To themselves, as they rock by the tire,
Ab jut heaven, and when they shall go.
And then a boy, stopping to think,
Will find a hot tear In his eye,
To know what will come at the last;
For grandmothers all have to die.
X wish they could stay here and pray,
Fora boy needs their prayers every night;
Some boys more than others, 1 s'pose;
Such as I netd a wonderful Hight.
—The Christian Advocate.
Our “Corner” is favxred this
week, not only by some very
bright and sweet little folks, but
anolder friend his come in to
say some pleasant things to those
who frequent it. We are glad of
this, for we do not much believe
in children's or young people's
meetings into which theolder peo
ple are not welcomed. We are sure
all the children who get into the
“Corner” this week, for their
weekly chat, whether they are
among those who talk, or those
who only listen, will enjoy this
“Chat with the Children” which
comes from the heart of one who
loves them.
Isn’t our “Corner” getting to
be a nice, bright place ?
June 9th, 1896.
Dear Index : Yesterday I
got the Index to read the letters
in the “Children’s Corner.” Ob,
how sadly disappointed I was to
And it empty.
The Index is such a grand pa
per that I thought there would
be so many letters that part of
them would not get printed. I
hope that will not occur again.
Early in the spring we organ
ized a Sunday-school at Concord
church. We had a very large
attendance at first, but lately it
has nearly died cut.
Brother Morgan is our pastor.
We like him very much. He does
all he can in favor of the
Sunday-school. Ido not know
what i < the reason we can not
have a Sunday-school. We start
one every yeai’ and it flourishes
awhile, then dies out
Dtar Editor, I will ask you a
question if you will be so kind as
to answer it. Do the sexiptures
say that the disciples refused to
wash each others feet ? *
Gm’ Sunday-school lesson last
Sunday said they did. It does
not say whether it is in the Bible
or not.
I will close for this time.
Yours truly,
Maudie Beall.
Embry, Ga.
* We have never seen it stated
in the Bible that they did. The
only thing we know about it is
what we find there. —Ed.
Dawson, Ga., June 13, 1896.
Dear Index:—As you have
been so kind as to give us a cor
ner, 1 will try to help occupy it,
although I have not been per
sonally invited to do so. Our
church has ovex- 200 members
and is in good condition. We
have not had our protracted
meeting yet, but will begin it on
the second Sunday in this month.
Our little city (Dawson) is near
ly 100 miles from Macon.
We have a city clock that
strikes every fifteen minutes.
Have water-works which supply
the town with water. Hope soon
io have electric lights.
Now I have finished and if that
awful and ever present waste
basket gets this, then I will write
again. Very respectfully,
Susie Lou McLendon.
Cottage Mills, Ga., June 14,’96.
Dear Index: —Would you let
into the “Corner” a little girl
from Chattahoocheecounty? Well
1 will know by seeing if this is
printed. Ido so much love to
read the letters from children
from all parts of our country.
Oh! how proud we are that we
live in a land of Bibles, a land
so beautifully clad, and filled
with so many of God’s good
things.
We have a nice little church
about t vo miles from our house,
a membership of about two hun
dred. Have preaching on the
second Sabbath and Saturday be
fore, and a prayer meeting con
ducted by the young men. We
feel proud of this, as you know
it is so hard to keep up a prayer
meeting at all in the country.
Bro. B W. Bussey is our pas
tor, and he certainly has en
deared himself to the congrega
t on. So good and pure, such an
earnest worker for the Master.
I hope the “Corner” will be a
success. God bless the Index.
Louise Sapp.
A Chat With the Children.
Dear Children : I want to
say a few words to you about
gardens and flower-beds. Most
children have a “corner,” either
in garden or yard, where they
raise vegetables or flowers of
their own. I hope so, because it
teaches them good and useful
lessons for after life, as well as
affords them pleasure in seeing
things grow that are all their
very own.
Now the “Index man” gives
them a “corner” in which to cul
tivate and enrich their minds,
and mamma or papa gives them
a “corner” in which to cultivate
vegetables, fruits, or flowers. Is
that the only “corner” they have
a special charge of? I think
there is still another, and a bet
ter, given by a wiser and a better
Friend than even the “Index
man” or mamma or papa.
Dear children, God your
Heavenly Father, has given each
of you a heart garden to keep
fox - him In Proverbs 4:23 you
will find these words: “Keep
thy heart with all diligence, for
ou i of it are the issues of life. ’
A diligent gardener ploughs his
garden deep, puts his seeds in
richly prepared soil, in good
season, and then keeps them well
cultivated, and well watered.
The result is a rich harvest of
whatever he has cultivated;
whether vegetables, fruits, or
flowers.
Our heart is the little “corner”
God has given us in which to
plant and cultivate spiritual
flowers and fruits for him, which
will not faie or decay as the
other products do, but will serve
us good purposes in this life, and
then be transplanted into the
paradise of God, through which
runs “the rivei’ of life,” water
ing everythirg and giving it
eternal freshness and beauty.
But before planting these
hearts, like the gardens and
flower beds, ihey must first be
broken up. There are weeds of
selfishness, sin, unkindness, dis
obedience to parents, to teachers
and to God. O, how many ugly
weeds and briers are in the dear
little heart gardens.
But, dear children, take your
hearts to Jesus just as they are,
and tell him just how bad they
are, and how sorry you are that
you cannot make them better,
but that you have tried and tried
to, but just cinnot. Ask him to
take all the ugly weeds out, just
as you would ask a dentist to pull
out an old, ugly, aching tooth.
And then ask him to plant “ the
Rose of Sharon and the Lily of
the Valley” in your heart garden
and to teach you how to keep the
ugly sins out, and to cultivate
these beautiful flowers so that
they will fill your whole heart,
until there will be room in it for
nothing else to grow.
Now, get your Bible and find
the Song of Solomon, and read
the first verse of the second
chapter, and you will know who
is the “Rose of Sharon and the
Lily of the Valley. ’
I wonder who will be the first
to give his or her heart to Jesus
for a “corner” in which to grow
roses and lilies? Let me hear
from you.
The Children’s Friend.
Gentleness Toward the
Weak.—With a tender regret for
lost opportunities, who has not
sometimes seen a mature woman
timid, self conscious, handicap
ped from youth to gray hairs,
simply because she was a “back
ward” child once, and therefore
was snubbed and ridiculed and
pushed into the background,
while her sisters and brothers
bore off the honors and were the
objects of universal estimation?
A wrot.g for life was done to the
little daughter, and her daughter
may perhaps suffei’ from the
same old mistake, for wrongs are
far-reaching. Ba pitiful and just
to the backward child in your
home.— Margaret E. Sangster.
Do Not Do This.
Do not be induced to buy any
other if you have made up your
mind to take Hood’s Sarsaparilla.
Remember that Hood’s Sarsapa
rilla cures when all others fail.
Do not give up in despair because
other medicines have failed to
help you. Take Hood’s Sarsapa
rilla faithfully and you may rea
sonably expect to be cured.
Hood's Pills are purely vege
table, carefully prepared from
the best ingredients. 25c.
lie Cream Made by a New Process.
I have ah ice cream freezer that will
freeze cream perfectly instantly. The
cream is put into the freezer and comes
out instantly, smooth and perfectly
frozen. This astonishes people and a
crowd will gather to see the freezer in op
eration and they will all want to try the
cream. You can sell cream as fast as it
can be made, and sell freezers to many
of them who would not buy an old style
freezer. It is really a curiosity and you
can sell from $5 to $8 worth of cream
and six to twelve freezers every day.
This makes a good profit these hard
times and is a pleasant employment.
W. H. Baird & Co.. 140 S. Highland
Ave., Station A, Pittsburg. Pa., will
send full particulars and information in
regard to this new invention on applica
tion and will employ good salesmen cn
salary.
capons?
(Alkaline Lithia Water. Baths any tempera
ture. Also superior iron water. Convenient
to reach. Secure rooms early at ths coolest,
healthiest, pleasantest place in this country
’at w bioh to spend the summer and fall months. The
j best medical service should it be needed.
| Write tor terms. W. ■■ SAM, Capes S»siM».W.Vm
7