The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, December 18, 1875, Image 7
the Captain, Queenie and I —watched him nntil
the boat had cleared the intervening space and
reached the island. Then we saw him spring
out, draw the boat upon the sand, and stooping
down, begin to gather the beautiful shells one
by one. Then for a moment I had forgotten to
watch him—my eyes were fixed upon Queenie,
with whom I was engaged in conversation, when
a quick, sudden exclamation of the Captain
caused us to glance up quickly. Following the
direction of liis gaze, I saw his cause of alarm.
Harry, in his eagerness to gather the shells, had
forgotten the Captain's caution. The tide was
coming in rapidly, a stiff, sudden breeze having
arisen. The water was steadily creeping upon
the island. Already the boat, unnoticed by
Harry, had drifted out to sea. We tried to shout
to him, to warn him of his danger, but in vain,
so great was the distance. I knew that my
brother was by no means a skillful swimmer, yet
perhaps, if warned in time and divested of part
of his clothing, he might reach the land in safety.
But now a new cause of alarm presented itself.
That little cloud had meant mischief more mis
chief, perhaps, than even the Captain anticipa
ted. Suddenly, with scarcely a moment’s warn
ing, the storm in all its fury burst upon us.
The sand upon the beach flew in thick clouds of
dust, blinding our eyes. The water leaped and
dashed as if possessed of a thousand demons.
Huge, foam-crested breakers came dashing and
roaring toward us, striking upon the beach at
our feet, causing us to retreat in alarm.
With the bursting of the storm, Harry had
been aroused to his danger. By this time the
island was entirely covered with water, and now
we saw Harry struggling for life amid the angry
breakers. Few better swimmers than my brother
could have breasted the mad waves safely, and
with a thrill of horror I recognized how feeble
and almost unavailing W’ere his efforts, and how
slow the progress he was making toward the
shore. With a wild cry for help, I had just
started to run in the direction of the fisherman’s
hut, when a piercing scream of agony smote
upon my ear, ami I turned just in time to see
Queenie dash past me and leap into the water.
“Harry! Harry!” she cried, the sweet, ago
nized voice ringing out clear and distinct over
the waste of waters.
Even then I could note the deathless devotion
the deep and mighty love with which it was
freighted a love which “many waters could
not quench nor the floods drown.”
“Queenie! Queenie, don’t!” the Captain cried
in anguish, as he stretched out his arms as if to
detain her. “Come back, my lass, come back !”
His face w'as pitiful to see as he knelt there
upon the strand, the tears streaming down his
cheeks, the weak, afflicted arms stretched out
imploringly as if to drag the beauteous form
back from out the angry, foaming waves—his
husky voice falling heedlessly upon the ears of
the girl whose hearing was dead alike to all else,
whose heart was forgetful of everything else ex
cept the mighty, deathless love which filled it—
a love which -was making superhuman efforts,
straining every nerve to reach the object of its
devotion.
She was a magnificent swimmer the Captain’s
praiso had not been undeserved. She had almost
reached the spot—was within a dozen yards of
where Harry still struggled manfully amid the
breakers, when I saw him throw out his arms
suddenly and then sink from view. Exhausted
with his struggles, he had fainted from fatigue.
With a wild scream, I sprang forward and did
what I ought to have done long ago, only I had
stopped to watch Queenie with a strange kind of
fascination,—I ran toward the fishermen’s huts,
crying for help.
But already the alarm had been raised. A
boat with two occupants shot out from the shore
and sped rapidly out of the waters; and in the
fore part, pale and determined, with every nerve
bent to his oars, sat Burton Delorme. It seemed
as if a boat could scarcely live in those seething,
angry waves, yet through it all Delorme kept
steadily on his course. I saw Harry as he rose
from the waves—saw Queenie stretch forth her
hand and grasp him by the clothing, and then
turn to fight her way, with her burden, back to
shore. The girl struggled heroically, but it was
plainly evident that her frail strength must soon
give way; yet nearer, coming ever nearer, was
the boat, with its pale, determined occupants
dashing on to the rescue. A wild cheer broke
from the crowd upon the beach as the spot was
reached and Delorme’s strong arm drew the half-
fainting girl and her unconscious burden within
the boat. Then a blinding mist came before my
eyes—just for a few moments I think I must
have lost consciousness. When I came to my
self, the boat had reached the shore. Burton
Delorme, his face still pale and set, was the first
to spring out, then turned to assist Queenie.
Every vestige of color had fled from her face;
the girl was as white as death; her eyes had a
dim, vacant expression as she tried to grasp De
lorme’s outstretched hand; a deathly faintness
seemed upon her; she staggered forward with
uncertain step, reeled as if she had received a
sudden blow, and before Delorme could stretch
out his arm to prevent her, fell fainting upon
the sands at his feet. He raised her tenderly.
As he did so, her sleeve, which was long and
loose, became unfastened at the wrist, and tailing
back, displayed a round and beautifully moulded
arm; but strangest of all, there, just above the
elbow, and distinctly visible, was a small, blood
red mark in the shape of a heart. Delorme’s
eyes rested upon it.
“My God !” he cried, staggering backward as
if some one had struck him a heavy blow. “Tell
me quickly!” he cried, turning almost fiercely
upon the Captain, who stood pale and trembling
at his side, "is she your child?”
“No!”
The Captain rather gasped out this monosylla
ble than spoke it.
“Tell me again,” Delorme said, laying his
white, nervous hand upon the Captain’s shoul
der; “ where did you get her?”
The Captain’s face was as deadly in its pallor
as that of the man beside him as he said;
“I saved her from the wreck of a drowning
vessel more than thirteen years ago.”
“And that vessel ?” Delorme asked, in a husky
voice, coming nearer and looking at the Captain
with eyes that were terrible in their unnatural
brightness.
“The Queen of the Sea.”
"I thought so! My God, I thank thee !” De
lorme murmured, as he turned and rained kisses
upon the brow and lips of the unconscious girl
within his arms, hot tears falling thick and fast
itpon the beautiful, pale face all the while. “My
long-lost child—my darling — my little Wini
fred !”
Kind hands had raised Harry from the boat
also, and in a little while had restored him to
consciousness. But not so Queenie. Her faint
ing fit was of a far more serious nature. The in
tense mental excitement, the great physical ex- j
ertion had been too much for the girl’s delicate j
organization. For days she lay at the point of
death; but, through tenderest care and unceas
ing devotion, she came back to life again.
There was not the least doubt as to her iden
tity. The cloth-s she had worn when the Cap
tain had saved her from the wreck, the little
locket which he had found clasped about her
neck, all wre identified by Delorme. The poor
old Captain and his wife were wild with grief at j
the loss of their darling, but Delorme promised
to bring her often to see them, and with this
their fond and loving hearts were forced to be
content.
The return to consciousness must have been
doublv sweet to Queenie—the awakening to a
father’s tender love and cherishing care, but .
above all, the awakening to the knowledge of a
for which her he,..; .1 hitherto longed;
hopelessly*, but which was all her own at last.
For in those days when Queenie had lain almost
at “death’s door,” when it seemed as if the
young life must go out forever, I had told Harry
the story of her love and devotion. Perhaps it
was wrong - perhaps I ought not to have heen so
hasty, but I did not think so; for during her ill
ness, I had seen that in Harry’s eyes which con
vinced me that it needed only this from me to
open his eyes to the true state of his heart. Nor
was I mistaken. At last, Queenie’s pure and un
selfish love had met with its due appreciation
and reward—she was beloved in return. The
mad, wild passion he had felt for Miriam Hayes
was but a restless, fleeting infatuation; his love
for Queenie was the one pure and strong devo
tion of his manhood. And all this he told
Queenie as sitting beside her the first afternoon
we had carried her out on the piazza and left
them a moment together — her little, wasted
hand clasped tenderly in his strong cool palm
as he told her how much he loved her and asked
her to be his wife.
That Queenie was happy it needed no words
from her to tell me, as going out upon the piazza
I found them still together. The beautiful light
that glowed in her eyes and the faint rich color
that had swept up into her cheeks showed that
plainly enough.
“Oh, Ruthie!” she cried, “I want to tell
you
“Hush, darling,” I said, as I stooped and
kissed her. “You need not tell me; I know it
already, my dear, dear little sister!”
“And my r own sweet mother !” she said, as she
pressed my hand to her lips; and then by the
twinkle in her eye, I knew that Harry had told
her all.
Delorme was pleased with the betrothal, but
he would not hear to a speedy marriage.
“She is entirely too young,”he said to Harry’.
“ You must wait. She must travel—go abroad.
Let three years provp your constancy.”
And with this they were forced to content
themselves.
What need I tell you more? In all the broad
land you will not find a happier home than ours.
Happiness has been mine continually - blessings
have crowned my lot ever since the day I became
Burton Delorme's wife. Harry and Queenie are
with us. The three years of waiting had but
proven constant the two loving, devoted hearts,
now bv the alchemy of love transformed into
one. She is the light of our household, the idol
of our fond and loving hearts, the object of our
tenderest solicitude, and daily we pray God’s
kindest care, his choicest blessings for our bright
and beautiful darling, our own loved Queenie.
TEMPERANCE.
OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE I. O. G. T.
[For The Sunny South.]
ONLY A MAN.
BY HOPE DE VERE.
Only a man, shivering with cold,—
Looking so feeble, broken and old—
Asking for alms
With trembling palm;
Once he was noble and bold;
Only a man, forsaken—just think—
Asking a penny to buy him a drink!
Only a man, broken in heart,—
Hardly a man, but a battered part,—
In the mud lying,
Groaning, half-dying.
Ah! see him start,—
Hear him mutter, “God! has it come
That I’ve lost my soul for the sake of rum?”
Only a man! Can none pity him now,
While the white snow falls on his upturned brow ?
Only a man
With ice-cold hand;
Only a man fallen low,—
A man fallen low—rum was the cause,—
Drunkard, a moment I pray you to pause.
An Instance in which Hahnemann’s Principle,
Allopathically Applied, would not Work.
Mrs. Sniffles lias had more trouble with Lycur-
i gus, aud has been strengthened in the belief
j that he is totally unlike other men, in fact, tee-
! totally unlike many of them. He had been on a
; long sober stretch up to a couple of weeks ago.
About that time he learned that his only aunt, a
rich old lady in St. Louis, had died and left him
an immense fortune—to get. if he could. This
was a sore disappointment to our friend, for he
had expected to be made a rich man by the death
I of this (once respected) relative. Never was the
j news of an aunt’s death read with more poignant
| grief by surviving kin. A postscript to the letter
: conveying the sad intelligence stated that the
j good old soul had bequeathed her entire wealth
| to a benevolent institution. This was the rusty
| rod of iron that pierced his soul and made murky
the fountain of hope. He tore the letter to
pieces, and bent his faltering steps toward the
j nearest saloon. He drunk; he fell.
EDUCATIONAL.
Forty drinks
[For Tbe Suuuy South.]
EPIZOOTIC NOTES.
BY KITTY SOUTH.
“Why, how is it, Silvy,” said I to my cook
this morning, “that you sent in neither hominy
nor buckwheat cakes for breakfast?”
“Lor, Miss Kitty, ma’am, it’s all owin’ to this
’zooty the bosses’ got. Peter, you know, what
fotches the artikles, bin here to say how their
boss can’t take another step; and so, I reckon,
yer order what I took to that grocer man he’s
boldin’ in his two hands yit.”
Of course, the sable Silvy thus successfully
parried the blasting words of condemnation which
were all ready to be hurled for the neglect of a
positive order.
I go into the study, thinking to comfort my
self for the disappointment in my breakfast by
basking in the light and warmth of the cheery
wood and pine fire, which country-luxury papa
has ever held in high esteem, and which is one
of the distinctive attractions of his sanctum sanc
torum.
Pity my despair, when in place of ejaculating,
“ The crackling fagot flies,” which I had prom
ised myself to do upon entering the room, the
words, “Ah me! miserable !” alone could express
my wretchedness at beholding neither fire nor
preliminaries thereto. I rang the bell with be
coming fury, and experienced an inspired ac
quisition of withering words wherewith to de
molish the delinquent servant when she appears
upon the scene, and taking in at a glance the
outraged state of my feelings, she enunciated
quickly:
“Yes’m, I knows you ’spected fire in here in
the Doctor’s study, and I ’spected to have it my
self, till Mr. Dent’s man cum and say how his
whole team is got that ’zooty, an’ he can’t tell, if
his life 'pended on it, when he can haul agin.”
For the second time I become powerless to re
dress my wrongs.
I migrate into the sitting-room, which is ordi
narily the cheerful part of the house. Here I
find papa, looking quite like a fish out of water;
he misses his study, its books, periodicals, pa
pers and general atmosphere; and I was struck
by the ominous clouds resting upon Lilly’s face
and her words just uttered as I opened the
door:
“ Oh, it’s too bad—too bad !”
“What, Lil,” I said, “is too bad?”
“ This abominable epizootic,” she replied.
“But how, dearie?” I rejoined. “Is it affect
ing you? No symptoms of the malady, I hope?”
This was hard for the already vexed damsel to
bear, at least with respect to her elder sister,
and she makes no effort at all in that direction,
but replies with pardonable sauciness:
“I seriously fear from the weakness of that re
mark that you yourself must be quite ill of the
epidemic—a fatal case, I should say!” and her
great black eyes flash with indignant sarcasm.
I at once make the amende honorable, and learn
that the trouble is this: The concert to-night is
to be quite a recherche affair, and Withelm Le
Fabre, so lately back from Heidleberg, who dis
tinguishes people just now by his attentions, was
to be her escort. The state of the weather for
bids all passengers on foot, and Wilhelm had
called to say no horse can be procured for love
or money. So, of course, Miss Lilly must be
victimized.
I was seated in my own little rocking-chair,
before the glowing anthracite, trying to become
philosophical over these various epizootic trials
of the day, and had almost reached the state of
“ A calm and thankful heart,
From every murmur free,”
when a rap at the hack door drew me out of this
commendable frame of mind. Sallie, the child
of our laundress, was in waiting.
“Mar say, ma’am, the week’s wash ain’t tetched
yit, and you all can’t git the clothes till next i
week, ’cause the man what owes her the wood !
say his boss most dead with the ’zooty, an’ mar !
say as how she can’t git a stick o’ wood to bile !
the clothes, nor to i'on ’em neither.”
“Very well, Sallie,”! hopelessly and helplessly
Why Do They Ever Begin!
“Mama,” said my little Harry, looking out of
the window as a drunken man went reeling by,
“ why do men stagger through the streets ?”
“Because they are drunk,” I said.
“ But, mama, why do they pot stop drinking?”
“Because they cannot, or think they cannot.”
“Well, then, mama,” said Harry, lifting his
little earnest face to mine, “why do they ever
begin ?”
It was a very busy morning, and my work was
not half done. But I knew what I ought to do
just thon; so I sat down, took Harry on my knee,
and we talked it all over. I tried to show him,
as well as I could, how, little by little, the result
came about. Only the day before a neighbor,
at whose house we were calling, wanted to treat
us to cider that was “only a trifle sharp—just
enough to be good.” I said “no” for myself,
and, finding Harry was taking the glass, said
“no” for him also; and Harry had thought it
very hard, and pleaded that he might have “just
a little.”
“But, mama,” said Harry, “that little drink
of cider wouldn’t have made me drunk.”
“But it might have led, little by little, to a
liking for such things; and if we cannot do
without cider, with a little alcohol in it, w r hen
it is handed to us, how shall we do when the
wine is offered? Where shall be the stopping
point? A little cider, a little wine, a little rum;
a great deal of cider, a great deal of wine, a j become so fond, he said, in tones that would
[Those stars represent drinks,
j to the star.]
Mrs. Sniffles was in despair. She had thought
I his reformation was complete, and now “the old
! man was drunk again, ” with no signs of ever
j letting up. Finally she bethought her of the sys-
I tern in vogue at certain inebriate asylums—that
i of mixing liquor with every article of food until
j the patient acquires a lasting distaste for alcohol,
j She determined to try that plan on Lycurgus.
! She procured a gallon of the worst whisky to
he had, and put some of it in the old man’s coffee
to begin with. It has been his unvarying cus
tom to drink but one cup at a meal. That night
he passed his cup back to be re-filled, saying, as
he smacked his lips:
“Better coffee ’n usual, ole gal. ”
Next morning she increased the dose. He
drank three cups, and fell from his chair as he
was reaching for a fourth. He slept until noon
and went out to dinner. There was beef soup
and whisky —half and half. Sniffles ate it all,
and said, as he wiped his mouth:
“You’re git’n to be a better cook’n anybody,
m’ dear. But yer didn’ make soup ’null'. ”
At supper everything was saturated with whis
ky, and Sniffles ate until he became helpless, and
his wife had to drag him to bed.
The gallon of whisky was soon gone, and the
only change that Mrs. Sniffles noticed in her hus
band was that while it lasted he came to his meals
with greater regularity than usual.
She was not a woman to give up anything with
out a fair trial. She got another gallon, and came
near starving herself to death while she fed it
to Sniffles in everything that he ate and drank.
His appetite increased at a fearful rate, and he
complimented her every day on her newly-
acquired skill in cooking.
The second gallon soon went the way of the
first, and after two or three meals had passed
without the seasoning of which Sniffles had
great deal of rum. We cannot know. It may
be all down, down, down to the wretched,
wretched state we saw just now.”
“Oh!” said Harry, with a little shudder, “I
wouldn’t for anything grow to be like that man;
and, if that is the way the thing begins, don’t
let me have any more cider, mama; keep it all
away .’’—Scottish Temperance Leatjue Journal.
Buxton on Intemperance.
Mr. Burt recently said in England: “I think
that some of the most terrible things that I have
read against intoxicating drinks have been writ
ten by Mr. Buxton, the eminent brewer. He,
about twenty years ago, wrote a pamphlet, and
in that pamphlet he said that if we add together
all the evils generated in our tim.e by war, pes
tilence and famine—the three great scourges of
mankind —they would fall far short of those that
arise from this one of intemperance. He not
only said that it was the greatest positive evil,
but he said—and we all know as social reformers
that this is perfectly true—that of all the obsta
cles that clog the progress of good, this is the
greatest that stands in the way. He said that the
struggle of the school, the library and the church
all united against the traffic in drink, is one de
velopment of the war between heaven and hell.
Well, now, what is the remedy for this evil state
of things? Some people say, ‘Education;’ some
say, ‘Give people better homes;’ some say, ‘Pro
vide healthy and pure substitutes for the public
houses.’ Well, we say we agree with that, so far
as it goes, hut what is the great enemy of educa-
cation? Look at the children whose education
is neglected, and you will find that, almost inva
riably they are the children of drunken parents.
What tends more to make home miserable for
working people than the traffic in drink? Mr.
Buxton again says: -It will not be any exaggera
tion to say that half a million of homes are ren
dered miserable, year after year, by excess in in
toxicating drinks, ’ so that we entirely agree with
all these remedies that may be suggested, but
we still say that, after all has been done, if the
traffic in drink is to be continued in the present
shape, it will stand in the way of social reforms
of every kind; and the only cure for the evil is
have touched the heart of a tax-collector, “Mar-
ander. dear, the victuals don’t taste as good as
they used to. Seems to be somethin’ or nurther
missing.”
Is there any wonder that the poor woman gave
it up in despair?—Brunswick (Me.) News.
The Curse of Drink.
The appetite for strong drink in man has spoiled
the life of more women—ruined more hopes for
them, scattered more fortunes for them, brought
them to more sorrow, shame and hardship than
any other evil that lives. The country numbers
tens—nay, hundreds of thousands—of women
who are widows to-day, and sit in hopeless weeds,
because their husbands have been slain by strong
drink. There are hundreds of thousands of
homes scattered over the land, in which women
live lives of torture, going through all the chan
ges of suffering that lie between the extremes of
fear and despair, because those whom they love,
love wine better than the women they have sworn
to love. There are women by thousands who
dread to hear the step that once thrilled them
with pleasure, because that step has learned to
reel under the influence of the seductive poison.
There are women groaning with pain while we
write these words, from bruises and brutalities
inflicted by husbands made mad by drink.
There can be no exaggeration in any statement in
regard to this matter, because no human’s imag
ination can create anything worse than the truth.
The sorrows and horrors of a wife with a drunken
husband, or a mother with a drunken son, are
as near the realization of hell as can be reached
in this world at least. The shame, the indigna
tion, the sorrow, and the sense of disgrace for
herself and children, the poverty, and not un-
frequently the beggary—the fear and the fact of
violence, the lingering, life-long struggle and
despair of countless women, with drunken hus
bands, are enough to make all women curse wine,
and engage unitedly to oppose it everywhere as
the worst enemy of their sex.
The Seven Lamps of Teaching.
1. There is the Lamp of Knowledge. The
teacher should have a thorough knowledge of that
in which he undertakes to give instruction. He
should be a positive character, competent to do
his own thinking in lependently, and not a tame
enclitic in the syntax of society. He should
scorn to be in bondage to a text-book.
2. There is the Lamp of Law and Order.
There must be fidelity in the observance of all
necessary regulations. Nor is it to be forgotten
that in a school, as in a State, “ that govern
ment is the best which governs the least” A
teacher whose heart is in his work, will make
his own life an inspiring example of loyalty to
law.
3. There is the Law of Patience. The duties
of the teacher ought never to be discharged in
a hurried, careless, or petulant manner. He
should feel that he presides over vital processes,
that call for the utmost watchfulness and pa
tience.
A. There is the Lamp of History. This throws
its light backward, and reveals sources of
strength and comfort and guiding inspiration
in the lives of great, good teachers gone before;
in the kindly, searching severity of Socrates,
to whom the hearts of his pupils were like the
leaves of an open book; in the fair humanities
of the poet Avchias, with a Cicero by his side to
twine his brow with grateful laurels; in the vast
learning of John Milton, whose outward blind
ness only sharpened and purified his inner vis
ion; in the moral and intellectual nobleness of
Thomas Arnold, who was a great schoolmaster
because he was a great man, whose pupils loved
him with all the joy of like-minded brothers,
chastened by the reverence of obedient chil
dren.
5. There is the Lamp of Prophecy. This
throws its light forward, and helps the teacher
to forecast a good career for his pupils. It
helps him to shape the future success and char
acter of the man. When John Trebonius, one
of Martin Luther's teachers, was rebuked for
treating his pupils with such marked courtesy,
his reply told of an honest pride in his work,
and faith in its good results: “ When I lift my
cap to my boys, I give my salutation to those
who will one day be men of power.”
6. There is the Lamp of Enthusiasm. One
has no business to be a teacher unless his heart
is in his work, so that he will do it lovingly,
and with his best faculties fully enlisted. If a
teacher goes to his work as a criminal would go
to the pillory; if his daily routine of duty is a
weary tread-mill, and never ennobled by flashes
of hearty enthusiasm; if there is always a feel
ing of distance and dislike between himself and
his pupils; if in moments of confidence when
they would come near to him, and speak to him
of their griefs and pleasures and plans, an in
visible wall of ice suddenly repels them; if he
is so irritated and exasperated by outbursts of
innocent frolic that he has a bull-dog’s chronic
hunger for fight, it is safe to say that his proper
place would be in a regular army with a rifle on
his shoulder.
7. Finally, there is the blessed Lamp of
Christ’s Example to guide the meek in judgment,
to illuminate what is dark in the ways of Provi
dence. No failure need be feared for the well-
trained, well-furnished and patient intellect,
that looks for help to the Supreme Teacher; that
lovingly and prayerfully leads the way to that
highest wisdom, whose beginning is the fear of
the (Lord, whose paths are pleasantness and
peace, whose end is life eternal.—Edward North,
in National ( Ohio) Teacher.
The Drunkard’s Path.
One fine summer evening as the sun was
personal abstinence on the one hand, and the | drooping into the west, a man was seen tryin
suppression of the traffic in drink on the other.”
Temperance Items.
The Good Templars of London recently cele
brated their seventh anniversary in that city.
Rhode Island has 28 subordinate lodges, with
a membership of 1,448, and $900 in the treasury, j
In the jurisdiction of Ontario, Canada, 11 new j
lodges were formed during October, and 189 !
during the past year.
Maine has 175 subordinate lodges, with 13,463 |
members in good standing. The largest, No. 81 j
of Yinal Haven, contained 330, and there are one j
thousand dollars in the treasury.
Prof. M. H. B. Burkett, at one time General j
Superintendent U. O. T. R. of Tennessee, and j
a State Deputy of the Grand Lodge 1. O. G. T.,
died at his home near Cleveland, Tenn., Nov. i
12 th. j
A New York boy, only 16 years of age, has
been put under guardianship on the verdict of a
jury, that he is incapable of taking care of his
property, lately left him, on account of drunken
ness. The fact is, a person who is a slave to rum
is as incapable of managing his own or other
people's property as a child that don’t know his
own name.
The Missouri penitentiary contains 1,270 pris
oners, and they are coming in at the rate of 100
per year. The penitentiary is already crowded;
and a great many of the convicts are idle because
Homes, which are the nurseries of children
who grow up into men and women, will be good
reply, and go back to my chair, feeling that I am i there is not room to put them to work. By the or bad according to the power that governs
a much wronged woman, and wofully cowed, or ! time the “crooked whisky ” trials are over, the ! them. Where the spirit of ‘
horsed—which is it? i Missourians will be compelled to build an addi- ’ ” ’ ’ ’
to make his way through the lanes and cross
roads which led to his village home. I say
“ trying, ” because although he knew the way
perfect!}', and had traveled it, man and boy, for
the past thirty years, yet that night he was con
fused and bewildered. Do you ask “by what? ”
His flushed face and unsteady gait told the sad
tale—Drink.
Utterly puzzled, he called out with an oath to
a passer by, “I’ve lost my way; where am I
going ? ”
“To hell?” was the answer, sadly and quietly
given.
A savage glare instantly sparkled in the drunk
ard’s eyes; but after a moment or two, with a
groan, he murmered, “I think I am. ”
“Come with me, ” said the other, kindly; “I’ll
take you home. ”
The next day came; the fumes of the liquor
had passed away; but the two words by which
his friend had answered were striving in his
heart. The arrow of conviction, launched by
the Spirit's power, had struck home. “ To hell!
Y’es 'tis true; I’m going straight to hell, and I
know it. O, God, save me. ”
That man faced about; he was going straight
to hell, as he said. But he truly repented of his
sin, sought pardon and peace through Christ,
and set himself on the way towards life.
Nine Good Rules.
1. Make the school-room duties pleasant; con
duct them with animation and cheerfulness.
2. Take an interest in them, and treat every
thing connected with the school with dignified
importance.
3. The class exercises should not be kept up
longer than interest is maintained.
4. Idleness should be sedulously avoided. A
programme of recitations and studies, furnish
ing uninterrupted employment during each ses
sion, is indispensable to a well-regulated school.
5. Great care should be given to assigning
lessons; if too long, they discourage the learner,
if too short, they encourage idleness.
6. Emulation is a valuable aid if judiciously
employed, and may be used in a great variety of
ways.
7. Patient, persistent effort will accomplish
your object, remembering always that education
is a process of growth, and time an essential el
ement.
8. Cheerfulness and confidence are lights that
blaze, giving a glow of animation and activity,
while a fretful spirit begets uneasiness and im
patience in others.
9. Frequent threats of punishment and habits
of fault-finding are seldom attended with good
results.—Quebec Journal of Education.
Public Schools.
Public schools should be maintained in every
State, county and district throughout the land.
A good system of education fosters virtue, truth,
enterprise, thrift, and promotes national pros
perity. On the other hand, ignorance tends to
laziness, poverty, vice, crime and national weak
ness.
The State, for its own protection and progress,
should see that public schools are established in
which at least the rudiments of an education
may be acquired by every boy and girl.
Individuals, societies, and churches are al
lowed the largest liberty and assured of the
most sacred protection of the laws. Special
schools for special cases are often provided; for
example, Normal Schools for training teachers;
High Schools for advanced instruction, etc.
Universities and colleges are essential to the
welfare of the land, and are everywhere protected
and encouraged by favorable laws and charters.
Home Influence.
I realize, in this constant frustration of our es- 1 ti° n to their prison, or send those fellows to the
j penitentiaries of the neighboring States.
Rev. Dr. Chickering recently said, in an ad
dress before the Oread Institute, Worcester, Mas-
| sachusetts, that of the two thousand convicts to
whom he had preached the two preceding Sab-
| baths, in the State prisons at Jackson, Michigan,
\ and Auburn, New York, at least fifteen hundred
| were estimated by the officers to have come to
that position, directly or indirectly, through
! strong drink. How patient we tax-payers are !—
i The Watchword.
...
j Whisky straight has ruined thousands, but the
I “crooked” article is what is now playing the
mischief in various localities.
tablished domestic arrangements, and these de
privations of pleasure to the young folk, that
••Now is the winter of discontent;” but I have
spirit enough yet left to cry with the royal Rich
ard: “A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a
horse !”—that is (pray understand me clearly on
this point) a horse innocent of all epizootic ten
dency.
A young man who had spent a little of his
time and a good deal of his father's money in
fitting himself for the bar, was asked after his
examination how he got on. “Oh, well,” said
he, “I answered one question right.” “Ah, in
deed !” said the old man, with a look cf satisfac
tion; “ and what was that?” “They asked me
what a qui tarn action was.” “That was a hard
one. And you answered it correctly, did you?”
“Yes; I told them I did not know.”
Abstinence removes one great stumbling-block
to the reception into the heart of the gospel of
Jesns Christ.
love and duty per-
vrdes the home—where head and heart bear rule
wisely there—where the daily life is honest and
virtuous—where the government is sensible,
kind, loving,—then may we expect from such a
home an issue of healthy, useful and happy be
ings, capable, as they gain the requisite strength,
of following the footsteps of their parents, of
walking uprightly, governing themselves wisely,
and contributing to the welfare of those about
them. On the other hand, if surrounded by ig
norance, coarseness and selfishness, they will
unconsciously assume the same character, and
grow up to adult years rude, uncultivated, and
all the more dangerous to society if placed amid
the manifold temptations of what is called civ
ilized life. “ Give your child to be educated by
a slave,” said an ancient Greek, “and, instead
of one slave, you will have two.”
What to Teach.—Rev. Chas. Brooks, father of
the State Normal Schools in America, was asked
by a teacher this question:
“What shall I teach my pupils?”
He answered:
“Teach them very thoroughly these five
things:
“1. To live religiously.
“ 2. To think comprehensively.
“3. To reckon mathematically.
“4. To converse fluently; and
“5. To write grammatically.
“If you successfully teach them these five
things, you will nobly have done your duty to
your pupils, to their parents, to your country,
and to yourself.”
Major C. D. Melton, of Columbia, S. C.,
died on the fourth instant. He was Professor of
Law in the University of South Carolina, and
Allied the position with ability and perfect sat
isfaction. He was an eminent lawyer and scholar,
had filled several prominent places in Sonth Car
olina, and his death is a cause of much sorrow
to the people of Columbia.
A new definition for an old maid is: A woman
who has been made a long time.
A newspaper and Bible in every house, and a
good school in every district, are the principal
supporters of virtue, morality and civil liberty.
—Franklin.
What is the first part of politics ? Education.
The second? Education. And the third ? Ed
ucation. —Mich elet.
How long should education last