Newspaper Page Text
8
3jjo«th’s department*
DOUBLE GEOGRAPHICAL-BIBLICAL ACROSTIC.
1, is a City in Canada.
2, is one of Allah’s Governors, who
hid one hundred prophets in a cave.
3, is a City in Wales.
4, is a City in Pennsylvania, situated
on the Delaware river.
5, is a State and City in Mexico.
6, is an Ocean south of Asia.
7, is a City in the Netherlands.
8, was the Wife of Abraham.
The initials and finals, read down
wards, give the name of one who is wor
thy the veneration of all true Catholics.
“ Paoli.”
Halcyondde , Ga., 1868.
ENIGMA—No. 97.
lam composed of 16 letters, viz:
ABEFGHIJNORSTU V Y.
My 1,3, 10, are each used thrice.
My 4, 7,11, 13, 16, are each used
twice.
My others used once—-which makes my
whole 27.
My I of the 16 is my 1, 11, 17 of the
27.
My 1 of the 16 is my 10, 24, 26 of
the 27.
My 4 of the 16 is my 8 21 of the 27.
My 7 of the 16 is my 4 15 of the 27.
My 10 of the 16 is my 7 19 of the
27.
My 11 of the 16 is mv 23 27 of the
27.
My 13 of the 16 is my 2 13 of the
27.
My last of the 16 is my 14 20 of the
27.
My 25 11 5 15 13 20 of the 27, is
what Solomon said, “All is” .
My 9 19 5 18 22 12 27 is a salutation
in French.
My 6 3 7 16 2 of the 27 is never
seen, but feared by children.
What is my whole, and who is my au
thor? ‘"Keats.”
Answers to Last Week’s Enigma,
Etc. — To Enigma No. 90.—Youth’s De
partment —Thomas—Thames—Hat —
Mary—Home—Po—Noun —Death.
Answer to Square Word
ANNA
NOON
NOON
ANNA
From Spare Hours.
A CHRISTMAS STORY FOR CHILDREN.
Dear children, you have often heard
people say, when a little child or a
baby dies, 1 hat God wants another an
gel in heaven. This is quite true. One
Christmas Eve God wanted another an
gel, and he sent an angel from heaven,
and told him to look around the world,
and find a child that would be most
happy in heaven. So the angel bowed
very low before God’s bright starry
throne, and came down quickly to the
earth. He alighted in a very large town
in England, and immediately began to
look for the child. He saw hundreds of
children, but not one, when he looked
into their hearts, was fit for heaven.
Not one; some were full of pride at the
fine clothes they had, and the grand
houses they lived in, and the many ser
vants they kept. These were rich chil
dren, and then he tried the poor ones.
But some of them were full of impa
tience and envy; so the angel sighed,
and wished he was with God again. He
went through the streets of this large
town, and lie entered the houses that
looked so full of light and warmth. Here
he saw children standing around the
beautiful Christmas trees, so full of joy
and pleasure; and some little ones he
saw who had no Christmas trees, no nice
fires, no joy, and no pleasure; but none
of these were ready tor heaven. At the
end of a square the angel came to a
large building; it was called a poor
house, and was the place where the home
less and wanderers found refuge. He
entered there, and passed through many
rooms, full of people hard at work, until
he came to one where the children lay
sleeping. One by one he looked into
their hearts with his clear, searching
eyes, and sighed as he went. At last
he came to a small bed where a little,
pale child was lying, with its bands
crossed. The angel smiled when he
saw the child's heart, and he was just
going to lay his hands upon its brow,
and summon its spirit away, when he
saw a sad, tired-looking woman enter the
room, with quiet stealthy steps, as though
she were afraid of being overheard, and
kneel by the sice of the bed, and cover
the child's hands and face with passionate
kisses, crying the while such hot tears ;
she stayed a few moments, and parted
the pretty curls on the little head, and
then, wringing her hands in her grief,
she stole quietly away. Then the angel
stayed his summons, and took his hand
from the child’s brow, and breathed fresh
life into its feeble frame, for he saw that
the poor mother had no comfort, no hope,
no pleasure on earth, save this babe, and
he would not take it from her. He bless
ed the pure, sinless heart, and passed from
the place. Then the angel looked again
to the bright sky, and he saw golden
stars burning and shining, and he knew
that he must make haste, for God wanted
the child to sing Christmas carols that
very night in heaven.
He went through the different streets
and squares until he came to a small al
ley where the houses were miserable, and
poor, and wretched, where no bright
Christmas fire was burning, and where
the windows were broken and stuffed
with old rags. From the last of those
houses the angel heard a low sound of
moaning, as if someone was in great
pain, so he entered directly, and oh !
what a sight he witnessed there. There
was no furniture in the room, save one
broken table and a small stool; no fire
burned in the little grate; one rushlight
shed its dim rays, and in a corner, upon
a straw bed, with scanty covering, there
lay a poor woman sick even unto death;
by her side knelt a little girl, rubbing
her mother’s thin, worn hands, and trying
to warm them.
“Oh ! Nellie,” shivered the poor,
dying woman, “ lain so cold, so very
cold.”
“My dear mother, let me wrap the
blanket round you tighter.” But, alas !
the blanket was old and torn, and there
was no warmth in it, and the cold wind
came rushing through the broken panes;
Nellie stuffed her old pinafore in, and
then it was a little better.
“ Oh, Nellie,” sighed the mother
again, “ if I could only see a lire, I should
be warmer ; and how I should like one
cup of hot tea and the breath rattled
in her chest, and the racking cough
seemed to tear her to pieces.
“ I don’t know what to do,” said the
child, sobbing and crying; “ how can I
help you, darling mother?”
“ You cannot help me ; only God can.”
But Nellie laid her little head down
on her mother’s breast, and while she is
lying weeping there, I will tell you, my
dear children, who the mother and child
were.
Their names were Lee; and many
years ago Mrs. Lee was a bright, good
looking girl; she married a sailor and
lived very happily for some time. But,
one night, when Nellie was two years
old, and her father was out at sea, a wild,
fierce wind sprang up, aud tossed the
boat to and fro on the angry waves. Boat
and men were all lost, for when the
morning sun, came, mild and smiling,
the dead body of Nellie’s father was
washed on shore. Hard times came
then for the poor and lonely widow; she
toiled for years, she went out washing
and cleaning, but cold and work were too
severe for her, and she fell into a con
sumption, and never recovered. She was
ill almost a year, and during that time
Nellie was her only support, and she sold
matches aud boot-laces in the street, and
sometimes, poor child, was obliged to beg;
and very often, in the midst of the cold,
bitter winter, they had no lire and no
food; and the little coarse fare they
could procure was not lit for the poor,
sick mother, and she went without; and
so day after day she grew worse, and
when Christmas Eve came, she was dy
ing, but neither she nor Nellie knew it.
The Priest who came to see her was
very poor, but out of his iittie means he
paid her house-rent, aud sometimes sent
his own dinner to her. But in his large
district he had, perhaps, two hundred
people as poor as Mrs. Lee.
Nellie was still lying crying, but she
noticed the hard breath was more easy
and quiet, and the cough gone ; she stood
up, and said, “Now, mother, darling, you
are a little better, I shall go out; 1 have
seven boxes ot matches left, and ten boot
laces; perhaps, as it is Christmas Eve,
people will feel kind and buy ihom from
me, or give me something.”
“ But it is so cold for you, Nellie,”
said her mother, iu a weak, low voice.
“ No, it is not, mother. Who knows
what I may sell or get, as it is Christmas
Eve.”
Nellie wrapped her little cloak tighter
round her, and took the match-boxes in
her hand. Then she stooped over her
mother’s face, wondering at the large
drops of damp that lay upon her brow,
and kissed her over and over again.
“Now, you will sleep, while I am
gone ; and see what I shall bring back.”
Then, Mrs. Lee, with her remaining
strength, clasped the little finger in her
arms, undepressed her passionately to
her heart." Oh ! mothers, that have ever
tor the last time embraced a child, you
know her feelings then. Out iu the cold,
bleak air, Nellie went, her mother listen
ing to the echo of the little _ pattering
footsteps until they were lost in the dis
tanee, and then clasping her thin hands
with a wild, low cry to God for mercy.
©S SMS 10'01’Mo i
Gently the angel passed, touching the
mother’s pale brow as he went, and fol
lowed Nellie in her wanderings through
the streets. “ Matches, good strong
matches, only a penny a box !” cried the
little voice ; but no one seemed to want
any. Everybody looked so busy, and so
very happy. The men were buttoned up
in great, high coats, and went stamping
along, trying very hard to keep themselves
warm; and the women wore thick, heavy
shawls, and comfortable dresses, and good,
strong shoes, yet even they looked cold.
No wonder that Nellie shivered in her
old, thin, cotton dress, and ragged shawl,
and worn out boots. And in the midst
of the crowded, busy throng, the little
voice rose again so shrill and clear,
“Matches, good strong matches !” but
no one stooped, and Nellie walked wea
rily on; the angel following closely be
hind her. Os course, no oue saw the
angel, but many person felt his influence
as he passed. One big, tall man was
standing in the midst of a group of his
companions telling them something. He
opened his lips to swear; the profane,
wicked words were formed, but never ut
tered; yet the man did not know why,
but he did not say them. A feeling of
something good and holy came over him,
and his heart did homage to God.
Perhaps the angel’s shadow fell upon
him as he passed. And, again, a woman
had her hand raised to give a poor,
trembling, little child a heavy blow —the
hand fell powerless down, the harsh word
was hushed and died away, and a kind
one used instead.
Again, a wretched, miserable boy—a
trained thief—was planning to rob a poor
woman of her hard earnings, which she
carried in a small purse in her hand; but,
for the first time in his long career of
crime, a feeling of remorse came over
him, and a fear and horror of his sin, and
he stood for a moment bewildered and
uncertain ; and the woman passed on, and
the sin was not committed.
And, again, a man stood before a gin
shop counting some money in his hand.
Ah! that money that he was going to
spend in folly aud sin, would have bought
for his wife and children food and fire;
aud they were hungry and cold. He
thought for a moment of their pale faces,
and hesitated; but just then the door of
the place opened, and bright light and
music gladdened the night air. Poor
wife, poor children, in vain are you wait
ing, so hungry, and so anxious. He
must go. But, ah! the shadow of the
angel falls. He cannot go in; he turns
away; he almost hears a little voice say,
“Lead us not into temptation;” And he
goes away home, and gladdens the hearts,
and brightens the faces he finds there.
Dear angel, you are doing much good in
the streets to-night.
And, still in the midst of the noise and
bustle, the little voice—now growing
feeble and hoarse—calls “ Matches, good
strong matches !” God help the poor
wanderer, for no one offers to buy.
The child’s step grew slower, and more
uncertain; but, oh! here is a customer!
Her eyes grew bright, aud her heart
light. Perhaps she will buy two or three
boxes.
“How do you sell these matches?”
“A penny a box, ma’am.”
“Oli! that is too much. I cannot give
more than a halfpenny. They are not
worth a farthing.”
“Indeed, ma’am,” exclaimed Nellie,
earnestly, “I gave a halfpenny each for
them; and, besides, my mother is ill, ’
and wants the money.”
“Oh! to be sure, you girls have all
sorts of pitiful tales to tell; I never be
lieve them. Now, then, will you take a
halfpenny, or go on ?”
“I will take it, ma’am.”
“I thought you would,” replied the
woman, with a loud, unfeeling laugh ;
“beggars cannot always be choosers ”
God bless thee, little Nell ; this is
sore comfort. “Oh!” thought the child,
“I wish the good God in heaven would do
something for me. What must Ido ? I
cannot go home to my mother with this
halfpenny. I promised her some tea and
a fire. Oh! my poor mother.” And
Nellie's brave little heart gave way, and
she sat down upon an old stone and cried
until she was tired. But that was no use ;
so she got up, and raised her little tray
of boxes, and called again, “Matches,
good strong matches,” but no one came;
and she went wearily up one street and
down another. She saw, by a clock in
the grocer’s shop, that it was nearly ten;
she lingered a minute by the grocer’s win
dow, and longed, as only hungry chil
dren can long, for a taste of the beautiful
raisins or figs, or one of the gulden
oranges or nice biscuits, or forever so little
of that fragrant tea and white, sparkling
sugar, to take to her mother. The clock
struck ten, and she hastened away ; and
then poor Nellie grew desperate when
she thought of her mother at home. A
well-dressed gentleman was coming
| down the street, and his fur-coat was
drawn up half across his face, but his
eyes looked kindly on the little shiver
ing child.
“Oh, please, sir, will you buy some of
my matches ?”
“Matches, my dear ?” said the gentle
man, kindly ; “ Ido not want any.’’
“Oh, do buy some, please, sir—do; I
have been all night trying to sell some,
and I cannot. My mother is so ill, and
she wants a fire and some tea, and I can’t
get any. Do buy them, sir;” and she
cried so bitterly.
“My poor child,” said the gentleman,
“what is your name ?”
‘ Ellen Lee, sir.”
“Where do you live?”
“Up Brown’s alley, near King street,
sir.”
“And where is your father ?”
“Dead a long time since, and my moth
er’s very ill.”
The gentleman took a book from
his pocket, and wrote the name and
address.
“Poor girl, you shall be taken better
care of soon; here, take this, and run
home to your mother; to-morrow, I will
send you some coals and some food. God
bless you, my poor little one.”
“God bless you, kind-hearted charita
ble man.”
But Nellie cannot believe it; she stands
amazed and bewildered, turning the
the half crown over in her hands. Sud
denly she ran after the gentleman, and
overtook him.
“Oh, please, sir,” she .said, breathless
with haste and joy, “you have forgotten
to take any matches or bootlaces; do take
some, sir—have them all.”
“No, no, my dear,” said the gentleman:
“ I do not want anybut, seeing
the child’s disappointed look, he added,
“but, stay, I will have one of these nice
bootlaces.”
“Thank you, sir.”
But he did not stay to hear any thanks,
he hastened away.
Half a crown—a whole half crown—
what should she buy with it ? it was al
most too much. Hunger and cold were
forgotten ; her heart was fairly dancing
for joy, and her bright eyes and light,
bounding step, kept company. She re
turned to the grocer’s shop, and held a
solemn council with herself before the
window; tea and sugar, yes; that she
must have, and bread and butter and fire
wood ; so that she went in and bought
them. How grand it seemed to give the
shopman half a crown, and to wait for
the change. And then she looked over
the store of danties to see which she
should buy for her sick mother; she
never thought of herself. One orange,
and a few of those nice little biscuits, it
was almost too beautiful; and Nellie half
thought she must be dreaming. The
shopman was so kind, too; he actually
gave her a whole biscuit, and half a
bunch of raisins to eat herself; but she
could not wait there: she ran through
the street so heavily laden, and soon
reached home. The pitiful cry of “Good
strong matches!” was not hcaid in the
streets again that night. Very gently
and cautiously the opened the door, fear
ing to disturb her mother, who might be
asleep. The dim rushlight was still
burning, and the flickering light falling
on her mother’s face, showed that she
slept. Her mother’s face was white as
marble, her hands were crossed over her
breast, and she slept the last long sleep;
but Nellie did not know, and she moved
so quietly and gently, fearing lest she
should wake her. And the angel stood
watching; not one kind action or loving
thought of the little child was lost upon
him. She made the fire, and as its warm,
rosy light made the room look quite
homely and comfortable. Nellie felt quite
proud as she looked around. The tea
kettle had a broken spout, and it had no
lid, but it was soon singing gaily on the
fire. And then Nellie drew out her rich
stores; and she took the three legged
stool, and placed it by the bedside, and put
the biscuits and the orange upon it,
smiling to think of her mother’s surprise
when she should see it. She placed the
cup and saucer there, and then made
the tea ; she let it stand for a short time,
to get quite strong, and sat down to rest.
How happy she felt; how good and how
kind God was to her. And yet, she felt
strangely tired and weak, and thought if
it were not for her dear mother she should
like to die aud be at rest in heaven, for
there was only a very hard life before
her. And then her thoughts wandered
to the festival—to Christmas Eve, and
the Holy Child, and how the Priest had
taught her to siug the little hymn that
begins, “See amid the winter’s snow’;”
and she tried to sing it, but there was a
burning pain in her chest when she raised
her voice. And the bright firelight
flickered, and fell upon the face of the
dead mother and the living child, and
fit-ill the ungel watched and waited.
“I wonder mother does not wake: I
think I will call her;” and she said, in
j a gentle voice, “ Mother, darling, are
you asleep ? but there was no answer;
then she poured out a cup of f ra(Pr
tea, and putting a biscuit in the saih^ 1
took it to her mother’s side. A iff
angel grew nearer then, for he pitierl the
child, "Mother, see here; I l, avc
such a nice tea, and a beautiful cake- p
have it.” But no answer, only the
dread silence. £he held the cup a
ute or two, and then let it down, stiji
never thinking but that her mother Vil
soundly.
She*got upon the bed and passed he
hand caressingly down the white f aec
Oh! never was touch so cold bebre
“Mother, mother!” She raised her band
it fell with a heavy, leaden weight, ail( j
then the child knew her mother waJdead
Oh! pity her, dear angel, for the wil l
bitter grief that fills her little heart; pj ty
her for the fear—the lonesome, dreadful
fear—that is upon her; pity her, as sh<
stands horror-stricken, with her hand.-
clenched and her eyes fixed on her
dead mother’s face. Ah! the an-. e i
cannot bear it; he cannot stand and see
the little child so tortured; he Cuni(S
nearer and nearer, and passes his hand
gently over her brow, as he had done
over her mother’s, and gently audealnilv
she sank back upon the bed. When sh'o
opened her eyes, firelight and rushlight
had disappeared, and, in the midst of the
room, throwing a goldeu light around
him, she saw the angel standing, jjjg
beautiful face was turned towaids her
and his sweet eyes bent upon her. She
felt no fear then, but opened her arms
and outstretched them towards him. Then
the angel came nearer to her, and the
golden gleams of glory played about her.
He lent over and said. “Nellie, little
Nellie, will you come with me to heaven
to-night, and sing Christmas carol- with
the angels there ?”
“To heaven! Oh, yes; take me there,
dear angel. lam tired, so tired of being
hungry and cold.”
“ Your mother is there, Nellie. She
went before you, and is waiting to see
you. You will hardly know that d*-ar
mother, Nellie. She is no more pale,
and thin, and weary, but bright aid
beautiful, and radiant, and oh! s->
happy”
The child smiled brightly. “Sour:
people, Nellie,” said the angel, “are afraid
to die, and some do not like to die.
They love the world and their friends in
it better than Gou or heaven. Now, tell
me, little one, if your mother lived md
you were happy and comfortable, ai d had
no more to work or fare so hardly, and
God had sent me for you, should you
have been willing to come!”
The child hesitated for one moment-,
and thought deeply, aud then said, “Oh,
yes, I would have come.”
Then the angel passed his hand again
over the fair brow, closed the blue eyes
that an hour before had danced with joy
and happiness, and crossed the little
hands on her innocent heart. There was
a floating murmur in the room as ot dis
tant music, there was a bright digi t aud
a golden glory, and then both the angel
and child ascended to the bright, starry
skies, where God awaited them.
The same kind gentleman buried them,
and he has often said that, for years alter
this occurred, he used in fancy to hoar the
little, pitiful voice crying “Matches, good
strong matches !” and, when Nellie .-story
was known, it really did some good, for
people grew kinder, and many a littic
match seller has profited by it.
Dear children, this story is quite true.
Wait until you can read the newspap-us,
and you will sec there that, in tlv mid--'
of all our plenty, some people rea '.\ dm
of hunger and cold. Now, do not. dear
children, put down the Spare Ho -
and feel sorry for little Nellie for a nn*
ute, and then forget all about it. Jet
teach you to remember the poor, and t
help them. Even though you arc v :
little children, you can do this. Home
times lay up a share of your nice ( n'-
mas dainties, and give it to some poor,
hungry child who, perhaps, does not g
bread enough to eat. And if y (,u a, ’ r
poor, you can help them with kind > v
and kind actions; for Jesus, our dear
Saviour says, “Suffer little chi! hen
come unto me.” And He loves j-r
rich and poor; and the way to cone* r
Jesus is to try to do all lie tells y< u: v y
he has said we must love God wit:: a
our hearts, and our neighbors a- our -h -
Say every day :
Teach, oh! teach us, Holy Chit-1,
Be Thy face so meek and mild :
Teach us to resemble Thee,
For Thy sweet humility.
William Cullen Bryant is lh ( S y' ‘'
botii of the Free League and the * iiltr
national Copyright Association-
John Stuart Mill has incurred d l ' ,
pleasure of his fellow Liberals, by' y
teering criticism concerning the N1 ‘
Liberal candidates for Parliament. L •’
| consider it an assumption ot i: ; ‘
! authority, and a display of < wer-confide r c
in his own judgement.