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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.