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About North Georgia times. (Spring Place, Ga.) 1879-1891 | View Entire Issue (June 20, 1889)
!.; 3J .. ;t v • C It .? ;TH GEORGIA TIMES ^ ill m ■ j i ,. j J .: A* ■ £ft Kf s m- . • *•. iifefe; b' sf oiatka. I tor'i""" REV. DR. TALMAGE. --ft JisS THE BROOKLYN DIVINE’S SDN DAY SERMON. - Subject: “Our Need of Cleansing.” •Itot: “If 1 t eOsk myself with snow ter, ah, and shall 'should I cleanse my hands in 1 yet Aou plunge me in the ditch, ’he., mins own. telothts shall abhor me,’ 1 — SO, 91. Albert Barnes—honored be his name on it as I have now quoted it, giving substantia) reasons for so doing. Although we know better, water there the ancients had an idea that in snow and mat was a special washed power rinsed to cleanse, in a garment and it Would be as clean as clean could be; but il tile then plain they snow would water failed to do its work, mixed ft with take oii, lye anti or under alkali that and preparation would certainly they felt that Job, the last impurity be gone. in my text, m most forceful figure sets forth the idea that all his attempts to make himself pure before God were a dead failure, and that, unless we earthly are ablated by something better than liquids and chemical ditch: preparations, “If I we are myself loathsome with and in the wash snow water, and should I cleanse my hands in alkali, yet •halt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own You clothes shall abhor me.” I torn are the now sitting obscura for yopr picture. word camera of God’s full upon you, and I pray that the sunshine falling through the skylight may enable me to take you just as you are. Shall it be a flattering picture, or shall it be a true one? You say: “Let it be a true one.” The first profile that was ever taken was taken three hundred and thirty years before Christ, of Antigonns, He had a blind eye. and he compelled the art¬ ist to take his profile so as to hide the defect in his Vision. But since that inven¬ tion, Christ, three there hundred have been and thirty y ears before files. Shall I to-day give a great many pro¬ you a one-sided view of yourselves, a profile, or shall it be a full-length If portrait, God will showing you just what you are? help me by His al¬ mighty grace, I shall give you that last kind of a picture. When I first entered the ministry I used to write my Sermons all out and read them, and run my hand along the line lest X should lose my scripts. place. Shall 1 have I hundreds of those inajni for days ever I preach them? Never; in was somewhat over-num tered with the idea I heard talked all around adopted about, of the the dignity of human nature, and I trated it, and idea, I and I evolved ft, and I illus life, and having argued ft; but coming on in studied seen more of the world, and better my Bible, I find that that early "• teaching human was faulty, and that there is nodlg nitv in nature, until ft is reconstructed by to pieces the grace the of God. Skerries, Talk about vessels going on off Ireland! There newer was such a shipwreck as in thaGihon and the first Hiddekel, rivers of Eden, where our parents foundered. Talk of a Steamer going down with five .hundred passengers on hoard! What is that to the Shipwreck W by of fourteen hundred million souls! e are nature a mass of uncleannass and putrefaction, nipotence from infinitude which it takes all tlfe om¬ and of God’s grace to extricate us. “ If I wash myself with snow water, kali, and shalt should I cleanse my hands in al¬ and yet thou plunge ms in the ditch, my own clothes shall abhor me." I remark, in the first place, that some peo pie water try of to fine cleanse their soul of sin in the snow “I apologies. sinner; Here is one man who says: am a I confess that; but I inherited this. My father was a sinner, my grandfather, and all the my great-great-grandfather, Adam, way back to and I couldn’t help myself." My brother, have you not, every day in your life, add¬ ed something to the original estate ol sin that was bequeathed to you ? Are you not brave enough to confess that you have sometimes surrendered to sin, which you ought to have conquered? I ask you whether it is fair play to put upon our ancestry things for which we ourselves are personally askew when responsible? If your nature was times given you got it, have you not some it an additional twist? WiU all the tombstones of those who have preceded us make a barricade high enough for eternal who had defenses? blasphemous I know a devout man parentage. I know an honest man whose father was a thief. I know a pure man whose mother was a waif of the street. The hereditary tide may be very strong, but there is such a thing as rupt stemming is it. The fact that I have a cor¬ nature no reason why I should yield toit, The deep stains of our soul can never be washed out by the snow water of such in¬ sufficient apology. Still further, says some one: “If I havs gone into sin, it has been through my com¬ they panions, ruined my comrades They and taught my associates: to They me. me drink. took me to the gambling hell. They plunged me into tho house of sin. They ruined my soul." I do not believe it. God gave to no one the power to destroy you or me. If a man is destroyed he is self destroyed, and that is always so. Why did you not break away from them? If they had tried to steal your purse, you would have knocked them down; watch, if they had would tried to purloin your gold you have riddled them with shot; but when they tried to steal your immortal soul, you placidly submitted to it. Those bad fellows have a cup of fire to drink; do not pour your cup into it. In this matter of the soul, every man for himself. Thai those persons are not fully responsible for your sin, I prove by the fact that you still consort with them. You cannot get off by Warning them. Though you gather up greai at these apologies: though there were a flood of them; though they should come down with the force of the melting snows from Lebanon, they could not wash out one stain of your immortal soul. Still further, some persons apologize for their sins by saying: “We are a great deal better than some people. You see people ali aroixid about us that are a great deal worse than we.” You stand up columnar in your integrity, in and their look habits down upon those who ar« prostrate of that,my brother? If I failed and crimes. What lessness and wicked imprudenceior through reck¬ ten thou¬ sand dollars, is the matter alleviated at all failed by tiie for fact that somebody thousand eise has one hundred dollars, and somebody else for two hundred thousand dollars? Oh, no. If I have the neuralgia, shall I refuse medical attend¬ ance because rav neighbor has viruleni is typhoid fever? than mine—does The fact that that his disease mine! worse cure If I, through ray break foolhardiness, leap off into ram, doss it the fali to know that others leap off a higher cliff into deeper darkness? When the Hudson river rail Duyvii, train, did went it alleviate through the the bridge matter at at Spuy all that ten there instead of two seventy-five or three mangled people and being crashed hurt * were Because others are depraved, is that any ex¬ cuse for my depravity? .Am I better haps them J~L2 emrounclings aVe in m U lire !Ue & wax more overpowering. Perhaps, 4 ) man, if you had beau-under the same stress of temptation, instead of sitting hero % 5 -day, SPRING PLACE. GA., THURSDAY. JUNE 20, 1889. IHIIjI §$3§fif£3 tots. tetoLJv Uni by instead of wasting our wrmticrLsm aboUt others, deflelts ? What are our perils? What our SS®0J L • S ®iS : 44 WTuya ( ) rsssssisg’raire '*_!« . . , . me heavenly the compass eiints it it the had been curved; ls sun SJVTX31d“w luster is 'SK almost rati SF&. 1 woven ha looms celestial, And you ^s&y: 1 Was there ever 2? pw .l 2 *** oeautiful as the snow V’ But you brought a pall of that snow and put it upon the store and melted It; and you found that there was a sediment at the bottom, And every drop of that mow water was riled; and you fcliud that the snow bank had gathered up the impurity •,1V**?? Of * at the wash field, ln and Add that after it n0 *° - <w I say will be if you try to gather up these contrast and comparisons with others, and with these apologies your heart attempt and life. to It wash will bo out the sins of an unsuccess ful ablution. Such snow water will never wash away a single stain of an immortal soul. But I hear some one say: “I will try some thing better than that. 1 will try the force ot a good resolution. That will be more pungent, cleansing. more caustic, more extirpating, more The snow water has failed, and now I will try the alkali of the good strong resolution.*’ My dear brother nave you any idea that a resolution aboui the future will liquidate the past? Sup pose I owed you five thousand dollars and I should come to you to-morrow and say: “Sir, if I will never run in debt to you again; X should live thirty years X will never run in debt to you again-” will you turn to me and say: “If vou will not nm in debt in tho future, I will forgive you the five thousand dollars.” Will you do that? No! Nor will God. We have been running God. If up a long future" score of indebtedness with isissi^stjssss&s^t for the we should abstain this time forth pure as an archangel before the throne, God, that would not redeem the declares part. that in the Bible, distinctly he “will require that which is past”—past opportunities, past neg lects, agiuatW past wicked everything. words, past impure im pa*t The past ls a great cemetery, and every day is buried in it. And here is a kmg row ot three hundred dead and days sixty-five of 1888. graim Here They are the is a long row of three hundred and sixty-five more graves, and they are the dead days of 1887. And here is a long row of three hundred and six days ty-ffive of more 1886. graves, It and they are the dead the is a vast cemetery of paet. But God wiU rouse them all up with stands resurrectionary face face blast, with and juror as the prisoner to and judge, so you and I will have to come up and look upon those departed days face to face, exult ing “Murder in their smile or cowering in their frown, will out,” is a proverb that stops too short. Every sin, however small, as well as great, will out. In hard times in stated England, that years ago, it is authentically a manufacturer wason the way, uifch a bag of money, to pay off his hands. A man infuriated with hunger met him on the road, anil fence took a rail with a nail in it: from a paling nail entering and the struck, skull him instantly down, and the slew him. Thirty years after that the murderer went back to that place. He passed into the grave yard, where the sexton was digging a grave, and while he stood there the spade of the sexton turned up a skull, and, lo ! the murderer saw- a naif protruding from the back part of tho skull; and as the sex ton turned the skull it seemed with hoi low eyes to glare on the murderer • and he, first petrified with horror, stood in silence, but soon cried out. “Guilty! guilty! 0 God!” The mystery of tno crime was over. The man was tried and executed. My friends, all the un pardoned think sins of our lives, though we and may they into are ‘ buried out of sight gone a mere skeleton of memory, will turn up in the cemetery of the post and glower upon us with misdoings. Ob, have I say done all our unpardoned you the preposterous of supposing that good resolutions for the future will wipe out the past? Good re¬ eaustie solutions, though alkali, they may be pungent and as have no power to neutralize a sin, have no power tit wash away a transgression. It wants some thing this. Yea, more than earthly chemistry to do yea, and though “I wash myself with in snow alkali, water, shalt should I cleanse my hands yet thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me." You see from the last part of this text that Job’s idea of sin was very different from that of Michelet, Eugene Sue, or George Sand, or M. J. crof any of the hundreds of writers who have done up iniquity in mezzotint, and garlanded the wine cup with eg lantine and rosemary, and made the path of the libertine end in bowers of ease instead of on the hot flagging of eternal torture. You see that Job thinks that sin is So, not a flowery o, dte»ir*i«5ro. parterre; that ft is not a table and Pandean pipes, all making music deep, together. loathsome No. He says ft is a ditch, long, plunged into it, and stenchful, there and we are all we waflow and sink and struggle, not able to get out. Our robes of propriety saturated and robes of worldly profession are in the slime and abomination, and our sOul, covered over with transgression, hates fts covering, and the covering hates the soul until we are plunged into the ditch, and our own clothes abhor us. I know that some modern religionists cari cature sorrow for sin, and they make out an easier path than the “pilgrim’s progress” that John Bunyan dreamed of. The road they the city travel of Destruction, does not stop where John’s did at university; but at the gate of the and I am very certain that It will not come out where John’s did, under the shining ramparts of the celestial city. No repentance, no pardon. If you do not, the ditch, my brother, what feel that yon are down in do you want of Christ to lift you out? If you have no appreciation of the fact that yon are astray, what do you want of him who came to seek and save mat which was lost ? Yonder ls the City of Paris, the swiftest of the Inmans, coming across the Atlantic. The wind is abaft so that she has not only her engines at board work, 'k, the the bat bat Umbria Umbria all all sails sails up. up. I I am am on on of of the the Canard Cunkrd line. The boat davits are swung aroiind. The boat is lowered. I get into it with a red F^ris floe ftcommrandT'^v^ and cross over to where h e t-.Ha t ^v Cit "ThI ransa wuunganax wave.the th e flag. The captam What looks off from the bridge and says : “ do you want?” I reply :' “ I come Pistil ftfttftftty ”*1^™ dtfrftftft! £££££>£&£ deck, and some and all make great outcry, The pray, a “.’S5'»S3““'-C"ho^.’Sffi cajfiain say»: "You hove from stem to stern and from the ratlines down to the cabin. I. S “tT the 1 Tmbria. t"p M «rS fast as I can toward the sink s2xssv.?s;isr to theboat, jscs get under the side and when X have swung up of the City of Paris, the each ana pistols, waiting try to keep back the crowd, his turn to come nejrt. The ? J* b r, ° ne lifQ “» d t he y^ want to get into it . t and the cry is: “Me next! me next!” You see the application before I make it. As long as a man going on in his sin feels that an is well, that ne is e^’nimr not at a Leeutiful cort. and has rU tail set,he want* no Ohi-ist,he wants no help. he wants no rescue; but if under the flash of Pod’s convicting sin spirit he shall see that by feasonot logged, 6« is dismasted and watw and going down into the trough of the sea where he cannot live, how soon he puts the sea glass to his eve and sweeps the cries horizon, and "I at the first sign of help out: want to be saved. X want-to 1* saved now. 1 «nut to be saved forever." No sense of danger, no appHca fclon for fescue. oh . tij at God’s eternal spirit would flash upon us a sense of our sinfulness! The Bible tells the story in letters of fire, but we get used toit. Wo joke about sin. We make merry over it. What is sin? Is it a trifling thing? Sin is a vampire that is sucking out the life blood of y our unmortal nature. Sin? It is a Bastale that 18 expatriation no earthly from key ever God unlocked. and heaven. Sin? Sin?, It 14 * s grand larceny against the Al- ! “ligbty, tor the Bible asks the questions, “Will a man rob God?” answering it in the affirmative. This Gospel is a writ of reple v 'in to recover property unlawfully detained Qoi *» the Shetland Islands there is a map with leprosy. The hollow of the foot has swollen until it is flat on the ground. The 1 wild beast. A stare unnatural '® m es to the eye. The nostril is constricted. The voice drops to an almost inaudible hoarseness. Tubercles blotch the whole body, and from them there comes an exudation that is uubea-able to the holder. unless That, ckns«l is leprosy, by the anti «< of Jwye God, all 9H 14 grace fevitveus. Soke. ® e f. p ee **«*• See fifty Bible allusions and cohfir aa ti on8 ' ThB Bible . not . complimentary . in . its *an- 18 guage. sins. it does It does not speak talk mincingly apologetically, about our not There is no vermilion in its style. It does not cover metaphor. up our transgressions with bloom ing them in weak falsetto; It does but not thunders sing about out: it “The imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth.” “Every one has gone back, He has altogether become filthy. He ls abominable and filthy, and dvinketh in in iquity Jesus Christ like water.” fiings And then feet the Lord down at our this hu of miliating proceed catalogue: evil thoughts, “Out of adulteries, the heart men There fornication, murders, thefts, blasphemy.” is a text for your rational ists to preach from. Oh, the dignity of human nature! "There is an element of your science of man that the anthropologist never has had Bible, the courage in all yet ins to and touch; and of the the the outs most forceful style, sets forth our natural pollution, ful thing, and represents exhausting iniquity thing, as a fright- loath as an as a something. It is not a mere bemiringof the feet, going it is not a mere head befouling of the hands; it is down, and ears under, in a ditch until our clothes abhor us. thrusts My brethren, I shall we stay down where sin us? shall not if you do. We can not afford to. I have to-day to tell you that there is something purer than snow water, something is more pungent than alkali, and that the blood of Jesus Christ that cleanseth from all sin. Ay, the river of salvation, bright, crystalline and heaven born, lowy tide rushes through this audience with bil strong enough to wash your sins com the ipletely and forever away. Oh, Jesus, and let aam that holds it back now break, the floods of salvation roll over us. From slvltoom th^uueTho^ims'fkSu, wrath and make me pure. Lot us get down on both kneesand baths in both binds rad ta-yto swinTtothe other store of word this of river this of salvation God’s grace. sent. To_youisths Take this largess of the divine bounty. Though you have gone down in the deepest ditch of libidinous desire and corrupt be havior, though you have sworn all blasohem ies until there is not one sinful word left for you to speak, though you have been sub merged though by the transgressions of a lifetime, you are so far down in your sin that uo the earthly Lord Jesus help can touch your case— Christ bends over you to-day, posing to and lift otters you his right hand, pro you np,first making you whiter bootblack to another, “when we come up to heaven it won’t make any difference that we’ve been bootblacks here, tor we shall get in, not somehow or other, but, Billy, weshaU get i straight through full the gate." Oh, if you only knew how aad free and tender is the offer of Christ, this day, you would all take Him without one single exception; and If the doors of this house were locked save one, and you were compelled to ' ' make there egress and by only one door, and the I rtood questioned you, and Gospel of Christ hail made the right impres rion u P° n y our went heart to-day, and you all: would “Jesus an swer me as you on, one is mine, and I am His!” jQh, that this might be the hour when you would receive Him! 14 43 not a Gospel merely for footpad* it is and for the vagrants highly polished and buo- the eaneers; and educated and the refined as well. “Ex t a ““ b® bo™ again, he cannot see the dom of God.” Whatever may be your associations, and whatever your world ly before ' refinements, God I expect I must to tell you, as in answer 4,16 last day, that if you are not changed by 4!l ditch ® grace of sin, of in God, the yon are still down in the the ditch of sorrow, in ditch of condemnation; a ditch that empties into into But But blessed blessed a a deeper deeper be be ditch, ditch, God God for for the the the the ditch ditch lifting, lifting, of of cleansing, cleansing, the the lost, lost, Illustrating power of His Gospel. the voice ot free grace cries, Escape to the moan «*«?&*«•** Hallelujah! tain; to tho i-amb wlao opeaeda W bought rouuta.a us our We’U pardon-, prates him , again wlieu wo pass over Jordan, t ' lllti? Whn In spit. of the frost aod now ^asa«su And I knew the heart it came from Would be like a comforting stall u £3rs‘f^' Hopeful and brave and strong- t ,™u, One of the hearts to lean on, we think all things go wrong. I turned at the click of the gate latch. A f flc « Idte this gives me pleasure lake the page of a pleasant book. ™ a brave and daring will; A face with a promise in it That God grant the years fulfill, He went up the pathway singing; t ™ w „ v „. Grow „ bright , , with ... worldless welcome . a As sunshine warms the skies, “Back again, sweetheart mother," He cried, and , } bent . to t ,.• lass _ The loving face that was lifted For what some mothers miss, That boy will do to depend on; I hold that this is true— r _ *° m ^ . . in . *°J . e wlth ... thelr ■ . mother * Our bravest heroes grew, Earth’s grandest hearti have been loving hearts ”*** Since time and . earth .. . began; And the boy who kisses his mother Jg.every 1 inch a man. GUY’S NURSE. BY HELEN FORKKST GRAVES. «<Hush ’ Dorcas! Is that rain? It • founds if genii .. dashing , , , as some were .^n« a .«... mentg.” “It’s rain, Guy. The equinoctial storm, you know.” at dronrjfmoaning down the U'l the bcdciolhei up red flames from the V.szi™“r o™n“ hearth danced up and down like a magic-lantern, the shaded lamp burned steadily on the table. Dorcas Wynter stitched quietly away at her sewing without looking up. “It must be an awful tempest, Dor¬ cas, ” utter the lad, as a fresh gust of wind seemed to shake the old octagonal tower to its very foundations. “It is, Guy. I beard old Caplain Lake say that the tide had not been so high since the year the Royal Victoria was wrecked off Paine Point.” “It’s better to be here, even with a broken leg,” said Guy Palcy, slightly lifting his eyebrows, “than out at sea in such a blow as this!” “A good deal better, Guy.” “Not that I am a coward, Dorcas!'’ cried the boy. “There are worse things than a storm at sea. And I have an in¬ stinct that 1 shall be n sailor yet. But this sickness has taught me—this sick¬ ness and you, Dorcas—that it’s better to go for a thing in au honest, straight¬ forward way than to try to reach it by sneaking. .But I always supposed it was « fine thing to run away to sea, or else 1 shouldn’t have tried the get-out-of-the window-by-midnight dodge, and broken mv leg. I’m wisar now.” „ Dorcas smiled at him with melting ... hazel hazel eyes nnd and rese-rea n se-red lms lips, revealing rovraiincr a a line of pearls. Poor Guy! said a „;,i oll sue. „ „ It r . was a „ hard lesson, wasn't it?” I think I needed , , it, .. Dorcas. ,, If ever there tncre was was a a thorough morougnpaceu naeed voumr young ruf- rui flan, it was 11 ’ groaned the boy. “But, Scolding 6 without end I got, I grant you, hut no one . talked , common sense to me before> you are the only J one who seemed to think mo worth reasoning w)4 “> . an “ , you snail . .. sec, Dorcas Dorcas, that tnat I’m worth the trouble. Once I’m up from . this ... . scrape, ,,,, 111 tackle , , , my , lessons in real earnest and try ' to be something better. And I Eay, Dorcas— „ “Yes, Guy?” “You’re the prettiest girl I ever saw!" “Nonsense, Guy 1” “Oh, bat your are—and the sweetest and the most sensible! I can’t think how you ever came to be housemaid in a place like this.” Dorcas colored a little. “Shall I tell you, Guy? I came as governess to the primary department, but I had no discipline, they told me. Tho younger boys did exactly as they pleased. I've always thought (hat Mrs. Vail, who succeeded to the position, hud something to do with the bad reports of «ny management that reached Doctor Vol. IX. New Series. NO. 20. Delfer’s ears. But that can’t be proved; neither can it be helped. I was alone here and friendless, and I was glad to accept a vacant position under the house¬ keeper, to mend linen, care for the oc¬ casional cases in the infirmary, and make myself generally usuful.” “I knew you were a lady!” exultantly cried the boy. “I could see it in your face.” “I would rather you would call me a rue woman, Guy, than a lady,” said Dorcas, moving the lamp a few inches further back, so that the light should not shine in Guy’s eyes. “But I say, Dorcas, how old are you?” ( 1 Rather young, I am afraid, Guy— only nineteen.” ‘ ‘And I am fourteen, Dorcas. Will you wait seven years for me?” “Guy 1” “I shall be twenty-one then, and my own master 1” added the boy, “and I’ll work like a slave to get a good profes¬ sion, and if you’ll marry me, Dorcas, I’ll make the best husbaud that ever was to you, for I'm desperately in love with you, that I ami” Dorcas burst out into laughter. “Guy,” she said, “what a child you are!” “But you do love me, don’t you? ’ ' ‘Yes, of course I love you, but not a bit more than I do Cec 1 Parker or little Frankie Games. ,f “Dorcas 1” “Well, a trifle more perhaps, because I’ve had the care of you these four weeks, and you’ve really behaved very decently, but—” “Promise me, Dorcas I” “I won’t, Guy!” “We’re engaged, all the same,” said Guy, with a deep sigh of relief. “It is a bargain. And now you may get me my bowl of gruel.” “Yes, Mr. Paley,” said Doctor Del fer, with a nod of his spectacled brows, “(hat wild boy of youra is a different nfitmary nprse has 16* troublesome spiffs, boy in the school, on ting to you now, that I was seriously contemplating expelling him from our members.” “Guy always was a wild sort of chap,” admitted Mr. Paley. “But his aunts spoiled him. He never had any bring¬ ing up to speak of." * ‘But this illness seems to have ex cried a wonderful influence over his moral nature,’’ added Doctor Delfer. “And I really think Dorcas has done it all. Her influence has been wonderful.” “She deserves a great deal of credit, I am sure,” said Mr. Paley. “I should like to see her anl thank her. Ive brought a few presents for her—a warm shawl, a silver snuff-box and a black stuff gown—” Doctor Delfer gasped a little. “She—I don't think sho takes snuff ~ 1" said he, feebly. “All these nurses do." >*Yea—but—there she is nowt" The door opened and Dorcas Wynter came in, carrying a student-lamp, which sho had just filled and trimmed anew. Mr. Palcy dropped tho silver snuff¬ box in astonishment. “I beg your pardon, I am sure!” stam¬ mered he. And when the doctor suggested that the nurse had better accompany young Guy on the journey home, he assented without a remonstrance. “Nurse, indeed!” said Miss Sophro nia Paley, a gaunt, high-featured, dam¬ sel of fifty. “As if a pretty, simper¬ ing chit of a thing like that could un¬ derstand anything about nursing!” “She does, though,” said Guy. “She’s a brick, Aunt Soph. And I don’t be¬ lieve I should have been alive now, if it wasn’t for her.” “You r.re quite well enough by this time to dispense with her services,” said Miss Sopbronia. “A boy that eats the quantity of muffins and plumjam that you did at tea, last night, cannot call himself an invalid any longer. She has been here a month, and—” “But she’s not to go away for all that; Aunt Soph,” said Guy, who was devouring roasted chestnuts like a dragon. “Ask papa. She’s to be Mrs. Paley one of these days, and—" “Mrs. Paleyl” Aunt Sophronia turned green and yellow. “It’s come to that, then, has it? Well, I’ve suspected it this some time. And all I’ve got to say is—” “Seven years from now,” said Guy, with his mouth full of chestnuts, “I shall be twenty-one and she twenty-six. Not enough difference to signify. And,** he uttered, with a grin, as his aunt flounced wrathfully out of the room, “you’ll get your walking-tickets, old lady, when I’m married! I'd as soon have a death’s head and bones around the place any time.” He was sitting curled up in the easiest chair in the library, reading a book, half an hour afterward, when the door opened and his father came in. Something in the paternal glance and movement struck the boy. “I never saw father look so young and bright before,” he thought. “Some¬ thing must have pleased him very much. Perhaps Aunt Soph is going to marry some old fogy or other, and the coast will be clear.” “So you knew all about it, Guy?' said Mr. Palcy, laughingly. “About what, sir?" “About my engagement.” The book fell with a crash to the floor. “Your—what, father?” “At least you told Aunt Sophroim about it. Well, I’m glad you are pleased, my boy. And Dorcas says she shall always love you as if you were her own son. As a general thing, I don’t approve of stepmothers, but you and Dorcas love each other so dearly, that— Why, Guy, what is Ihe matter?” For the boy had rushed out of tho room with an odd, suffocating sensation in his throat. He met Dorcas coming in from the garden, with a bunch of scarlet holly-ber ries in her hand. “DorcasI” he cried—“Doroas, you are as false as the serpent-woman I You beau—” She comprehended him in an instant, (hough his voice was choked into si¬ lence. She flung away the scarlet cluster and put her arms tenderly about him. “Dear Guy,” she whispered, “I love him; but if you are unwilling—if it takes away any of the home feeling for you—it only remains for you to say so, then Guy sn.d, “Well, so let it be. trump, and you are the only woman alive who is worthy of him. And I sup¬ pose people would say six years was too much difference in our ages, although how they’re to get ovor the fifte3n yean between you and father I don’t know," he adde 1, with rather a forced laugh. And then and there Guy Pa’ey learn¬ ed bis first lesson in self-abnegation. Dorcas picked up her holly-berries and went to the library, where her prom¬ ised husband stood. “I have just seen Guy,” she said. “Isn’t he pleased?” “Yes, I think he is,” hesitated Dorcas. “Guy is a strange boy—a noble nature. I am not sure, Horace," she added, with a dimness in her eyes, “that I would havo married you if I could not always have had Guy with me.” “And my true wife will be Guy’s true mother!” said Mr. Paley, drawing Dorcas tenderly to his side.— Saturday Night. Keep Your Eyesight. Dr. F. Park Lewis spoke recently, says tho Buffalo Courier, upon weak eyes and near-sighted people. He stated that while people with near¬ sighted eyes might show no loss of sight for years, still near-sighted eyes should be treated with care. The best light for the eyes was sunlight. A good light must be strong, white and steady. The heat of artificial light was then con¬ sidered. Sunlight has the least heat rays; electric light came next; kerosene and gas wore last and so the worst for the eyes. He closed by stating that in reading the back should be to the light, the eyes should be shaded and never be used when tired. One should not read with an uncertain light nor on the cars. Growth of Maples. There is a popular notion that soft maples grow much more rapidly than those Of the sugar-bearing kind called hard or rock maple. The soft maple naturally grows on low, rich, marshj ground, which may cause its greater luxuriance in such conditions. Where both have been transplanted on high ground there is little 4iffercice in growth. The hard maple is a few days later-in putting forth leaves in spring, but otherwise is juft as desirable as the other, and for sugar-making is muc 4 more to.-Courier- Journal. ........
