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E. I. SMITH & CO. THE ONE PRICE SHOE STORE EVERY PAIR GUARANTEED Cor Clayton St, k College, Avc N t his 1 c o m • i e r c i a 1 age there cau be tio go*tl reason - v why Tilbury shouhl / 'have been placed so near the summit of the hill, but so It is, anil all but a few of the farmers, around •bout have to toil upwards in order to reach the half downs stores there and tho three ohurchcw. Perhaps the original settlers of western Massachusetts had an eye, or two, for the beautiful, for there is not a habita tion in Berkshire county that commands a more extensive or picturesque viow. Tho natives of Tilbury seldom mention the see i- •rr, hut not many years ago it attracted tho admiration of wealthy people from a dis tance, and they set np their summer homes there. It made a marked change In the vil lage, the more because n portion of tho new comers fcniud it pleiisuroabt^. -to remain through the winter. It was thus that ov’l entered and brought unhappiness to Hczo- kiali Martin. Mv mind wanders back to that time when •s a child I listened to his stentorian tenor voice leading the singing from tho choir loft of tho ancient Congregationniist church. There were two long services every Sunday then, and 1 recall that when the new preacher Joined in the movement to abolish tho nfter- ! noon sermon Hezekiah was one of those who stood hardest for tho old custom, uud when ; the inevitable reform was finally acconi- • plished. tho sturdy chorister r over looked | upon his minister in tho same light that ho | had before. He was more, faithful than ever ] aud sung all the louder as if to make np in fervor for lack of opportunity; but when tho daring divine finally went his way, and an other preacher took tho pulpit, tho chorister felt as if a groat burden had been lifted; as If the parish hail escaped a most dangerous affliction. . rT „„ The years turned steadily along ana Ileze- kiah overcame every difficulty that choir leaders are subject to. Ho pacifi. d tho jealous sopranos, raised up new bns-os, sung four eousecutivo Sundays aif niono when the choir deserted fcnn in high dudgeon because he refused to approve of u now anthem book, nml in many other ways demonstrat 'd his fitness for the work until prosperity in the shape of summer visitors fell upon Tilbury. Then began a quiet, insidious trouble, as im perceptible at first as tho approach of old age, that eventually overcame him. The first manifestation of revolution came In a division of opinion in the parish over the elioiee of a new preacher, for osd Sir. Spooner had l>egun to feel that he was some how in the way, and he resigned before tho tieople were fudy aware that they wanted to hear a new voice. There were two loading candidates for Iris place, a young and elo quent preacher anil a reulous worker, and ail elderly man ij;;aiiist whom not n word oouli. be said. Tie newcomers in Tilbury, joining hands with the younger members of the church, elected tho young man, and as -ho contest hud not been long or determined, there was a spoeilv healing of differences and no lack of harmony. Even then Hezekiah felt a vague presentiment that all would no. be well with him, hut several months passed before ho received any direct intimation tnat tho parish would appreciate a change in tho choir loft. The first ho heard of it was in a discussion among bis singers at a batiin.ay evening rehearsal. It was not meant that be should bear, but ho entered tho vestry un expectedly. Siam Hinckley, one of tho*o very bassos who had been patienJy trained by tho chorister, was saying; “Wall, l shall bo sorry to see tho old man s feeling* liurt, but ho can t expect to lead sir.gin’ forever." responded And pretty Maria Jasper, tacitly untler- rtood to bo Sam’s sweetheart, “‘^IBut 'l think it’s just too mean and if ’Kiah has to go 1 follow. That’s all! And then they nil saw the clionstercomin„ down ttm aisle, and a painful hush fell upon them, llezebiati bowed gravely as ho np- That was tho wav ho alwavs addressed tho choir at re hearsals. Perhaps ho avoided a greeting to «ocb individual from fear of arousing jeal ousy by scorning partiality. At all events I never heard of bis varying tho formula. Ho continued, ns ho referred to a small slip of paper In his hand: , ■‘When tho l>,rd wills wo will all go, and not till then, it is not our part to meddlo with what is In His hands. Tho minister has chosen Ityniu 1KJ7 for tho first piece. We will sing it to the tuno of ‘Cambridge.’ ” At that rehearsal and during services next day everything wont as usual, but report of the talk that Hezekiah hail heard flew about the jmrisb quickly, and not a few remarked that the chorister looked unusually grave. “1 cal’late,” remarked Mr. Davis, tlio sheep raiser Irorn llam’s Hill, to his wife as they drove home alter meeting; “I cal’lato 'Kiah Martin feels hi* years a growing ca him; hay!” “And 1 cal’late, Philander Davis," returned Mm. Davis, with significant emphasis, “that It ain't so much his nateral years he feels as •tt-ySStSt-rt K* «o Wends. ’Kiah hain’t; I think jes’ ’« much of himri ever I dill, mi’ yit I’m ’hleeged to admit that when a man gits along in years it’s time for him to let stouter men hold tho plough. Hnvt” Now, the fact was that Philander Davis was one of the few among the older heads in i the parish who sided with the reformidg ele ment. Mr. Davis was ambitious for Tilbury nnd all in it, and ho prided himself somewhat on being able to entertain new ideas after having passed tho age of 50. At the last church meeting his support had been recog nized by his election to membership of tho parish committee, and he, therefore, was well informed on the restlessness of tho younger members regarding tho matter of music. It was the one point of serious difference be tween him nnd his wife, 1 *aml she was not to he hoodwinked liji hie softliigiry.. “Don’t tell me, fhilander,"'she’replied ill answer to his last expression, “I know just how you feel. Yon want to please the smart folks'on tlio hill, and 1 haven’t got a word to say against them, cept it does seem’s if they needn’t conto to Tilbury nnd expect to run things in city style. They want a quartet, now, don’t they? and they want to interduce now music, don’t they! and not let the congre gation join in, kept on one hymn, don’t they? nnd they’re goin’ to try to make Hezekiah step down on account of his age, and he been chorister for fifty years, don't they? aint they, 1 should say!” “Git up, there, Jim, g’long with ye!" ex claimed Mr. Davis. “You’re putty sharp, Martby; cf you was to look through the hole in one of my millsfhnc* and see the other s grlndin’ you’d think you saw clenn through both, wouldn't ye? hay? but I don’t think v ,„\i make much of a hand to run a church, , V.-irthy. Hay?” And so, with good-natured obstinacy the discussion was continued until Mr. Davis helped his wife out and led the horse into the barn to unhitch. ) Now that the chorister knew that there ' was a feeling that his services were not re- ; qnireil, tho parish committee hoped that he would relieve them of discomfort by resign- | ing voluntarily; but weeks passed and Heze- ! kiah retained his place without a word. Ho at last it was determined that he must l>e approached in a Christian, neighborly spirit, nud induced to consider the matter in the right light. A* the olde** member of the committee, Philander Davis was deputed to do the talking, but though he had accepted the appointment with a cheerful sense of i« importance, Ins confidence failed him when ho faced the old chorister one October even- inv in Hezekiah'* little parlor. The other members of tho committee sat looking nt their hats whilo Mr. Davi* coughed awk wardly and began: “peelin' tolerable well these days,’Kiah? •Tve been enjoyin’ good health all sum mer, Mr. Davis,” responded Hezekiah with dignified asperity. “Wall,” said Mr. Davis, after a wretched pauso and another cough, “we’ve come np to talk about the music.” Mr. Davis waited for the chorister to lead the wav to what must follow, hut Hezekiah kent silent. Ho the spokesman continued: “You tee, ’Kiah, the parish thinks they’d ought to be something of a change.” Hezekiah could hold out no longer. “Neighbors,” ho said with a trembliaf voice, “1 can’t make no change. I’ve stood up in the loft there more’n fifty yrars and haven’t missed but two Holidays. . v« sung the good old music that you and I, Puilancer, was brought up on, and 1 can’t sing u-’ich else. I’vo kept tho choir together for you, and if tlio money stood in the way (Hezekiah leceive 1 §50 u year) I’d keep it up for noth in'”. No, don’t say ’taint money; I know tfcat; 1 know vou want a high toned quartet and that you’re willing to pay. But-Ivo done my best, neighbors. ’ Tlio old chorister bowed his head upon his bands, nnd the parish committeemeni wished they bad not come. Mr. Davis rubbed the back of his head and his colleagues looked sternly at him. “Wo hate worse’n thunder to hurt your feelin’s, ’Kiah, hay?” ho began again, when tho chorister stood np nud interrupted him. “1 know,” ho said; “yon don’t want to tell me I’m too old. But, praise tho Lord. 1 il not stand in tho way of tho parish s goou. I resign right here.” But tho committee wns not wholly locking in human sympathy, and it was agreed that Hezekiah should sing until the end cf the year, and tlio chorister consented, though with less appreciation of the favor extended to him than mod of tho committee had ex ^°“Blessod if 1 didn’t feel sorry for the old man,” said young Deacon Goodspeed, speak- inn- of tho matter several days later, bo uid a good many others, but as tho end of tho year approached tho sympathy lost its keen ness, nnd in tho samo degree tho ambition of tho younger members increased, so that eventually the desire to have a big display of music on Christmas led to another call on Hezekiah, tho result of which was that tlio ■ . - i j...i i,; a rif. once with- church, the sexton had blown out the lights and locked the heavy doors behind him. bleigh bells jingled faintly away out of hear ing, and the slow footsteps of tho sexton crunching on the half trodden snow mingled with tbe tones of the clock ir> the high tower striking ten. Then a door inside the vestry opened, and out of a closet where brooms and dust pans were kept an old man came hesitatiugiy. He made his way very slowly up the bread staii-s to the main meeting room. At the door leading to the choir loft he paused a moment. His hand was on the knob, but he turned it not. More slowly than before ho went down the aisle and dropped into a pew. He sat there in the darkness a long time, his bead sunk forward on his breast. A half hour, may be, passed, before ho rose and marched with determined step to the choir door, and up the stairs to the familiar loft. He found a match in Ills pocket and lit tho lamp that hung near the bench, where Hezekiah for more than fifty years had sung God’s praises nnd carried the voices and spirits of the congrega tion with him. The dim yellow ray threw gloomy shadows of the pew backs into relief, just disclosed the pulpit at the further enil of the church, gave faint hints of evergreen fes toons on the walls, and hero and there the laurel worked words “Emanuel,” “Glory to God in the highest," and so on, that hail been placed there with great toil by tbe young men and women of the parish in honor of tbe day so near at hand; but had you been there you would have seen only the patriarchal form of the chorister with a sadly bitter look on his taco gazing at the gloom about the I pulpit. Was he thinking bow often he had stood solepinlx thus while thp minister wus praying? remaps so, tor alter a niomen* his lipe parted, and a tremulous “Amen!” uttered softly on a high note, sung to the evergreens and the shadows. Then Hezekiah looked about the bench In front of him. He picked up one of the uew anthem books brought in by the quartet. He glanced at the cover and let it falL Taking tho lamp from its socket he held it so that he could see, and presently drew forth the an cient collection of anthems, every tune in which ho knew by heart, to sacred to him. nnd yet so speedily hidden away where it should serve nobody. Ke replaced the lamp mul turned the pages to “Coronation,” the first piece snng by a choir under his direc tion more than a lifetime ago. Fondly he looked at the familiar notes and then, bis chest thrown out and his head held up, he sung the grand old tune and its magnificent words with all the fervor and all the power tlint bis voice ever had commanded. From beginning to end the hymn rang through the deserted gloomy church, and Dr. Williams, driving by in baste to attend the ills of a far off patient, wondered that the rehearsal should hare been continued so late. When the last note had ceased Hezekiah stood with tho book still open and his head still up, but tho tears were coursing down his face in steady sli earns. At last he sunk into a chair, nnd with a great pang nt the heart ha saw upon the bench beside tlio volume of newfangled tunes a little book of manuscript music. When ho was n young man of not more than 50 Hezo- kiali had taken it into hie head that he would write music, ami tho several nntcenis that ho had composed in pure harmony, but with crude progressions, had been laboriously copied into books, nnd had been used oc casionally er since in church service. What had they been doing with his music? Was it not onough that they should discard him in bis old age, anil his ways nnd his books, without hunting up his feeble bat earnest compositions to laugh at them ? That could not bo forgivon! With melancholy fingers lie turned the leaves. His inspection stopped nt an anthem for Christmas, com posed on words taken literally from the Scriptures. There it was, with its introduc tory recitative for bass, and a double fugue, as he called it, when the angels’ cliori;3 was reached. His wife bail sung tho treble lie- fora sb« left the choir, and when with patient resignation lie had laid her in the grave, his daughter had performed her part, and since she married and moved away tho anthem had not been sung. With what grand •mo tion he had heard tho voice* begin the first fugol movement: Glo - rr to God In the high - - - . '...II > prise in your houor. They’re goit’ to sing your piece.” The old chorister broke away from tho sexton and hobbled np the stairs. When he reached the organ loft they were singing “Anil on earth peace, good will to rnenj,’ Hezekiah waited until they were done, and then in a low, grave tone that startled tho singers, he said: “1 wish you all p. merry Christmas, ^neigh bors. I’ve had hard feelings against you, and I pray that God''will forgive me and cause you not to look unkindly on an old main This is niorb than 1 deserve.” F. K. BCKTOS. THE FIR TREE. Far down in the forest, where the warm sun and the fresh air made a sweet resting place, grew a pretty little fir tree: and yet it was uot happy, it wished so much to be tall like its companions, the pines and firs which grew around it. The sun shone and the soft air fluttered its leaves, and the little peasant children passed by prattling merrily, but the fir tree heeded them not. As it grew it complained, “Oh! bow 1 wish I were as tall as the other trees, then 1 would spread out my branches on nnd my overlook rr.er Its dark green foliage might be seen In the forest, while passers by would say, “What a beautiful tree!” A short time before Christmas the discon tented fir tree was the first to fall. . As the ax cut through the stem and divided the pith the tree fell with a groan to tho earth, conscious of pain and faintness, and forget ting all its anticipations of happiness, in sor row at leaving its home in the forest. It k lew that it should never again see its dear old companions, tho trees, nor the little bushes and many colored flowers that had grown by its side; perhaps not even tho birds. Neither was the journey nt all pleas ant. Tiie tree first recovered itself while being unpacked in the courtyard of a house, •with several other treas; and it heard a man say, “We only want one, uud this is the pret tiest.” Then came two servants in grand livery and carried tho fir tree into a largo and beautiful apartment. On tho walls hung pictures, and near the great stove stood great clima vases, with lions on tho lids. There were rocking chairs, silken sofas, large tables, covered with pictures, books and playthings, worth a great deal of money—at least the children said so. Then tbo fir tree was placed in a large tub, full of sand; but greeu baize huug all round it, so that no one could see it was a tub, nud it stood on a very handsome carjiet. How the fir tree trembled! “What was going to happen to him uoiv?” Some young ladies came, and the servanta helped them to adorn the tree. On one branch they hung little bags cut out?of colored (viper, and each bag was till* d with sweetmeats; from other branches hung gilded apples and walnuts, as if they had grown there; and above, and all rouud, wore hundreds of red, blue und white tapers, which wore fastened on the branches. Dolls, exactly like real liable*, were placed under the green leaves—the tree had never seen such things before—and at the very top was fastened a glittering rfter, mads of tinsel. Oh, it was very beautiful! At last the tapers were lighted, and then a srligtenUur of liuht. the treft.lW*» seated! Ana now trie roTlung door* were thrown open, and a troop of children rushed in as if they intended to unset the tree; they were followed more slowly by their elder*. For a moment tbe little ones stoedsilent with astonishment, and then they shouted for joy, till the room rang, and they danced merrily round the tree, while one present after an other was taken from it. “What are they do- ing? What will bap j>eu next?” thought the fir. At last the caudles burnt down to the branches and were put out. Then the ehildreu Chines nnd the birds sing.” And then the tree told the little mice all about its youth. They had never heard sueli an account in their lives; and after they had listened to it attentively, they said: “What a number of things you have seen I you must have been very happy.” One morning people camo to clear out the garret, the boxes were (lacked away, and tbe tree was palled out of the corner, and .• thrown roughly on the garret floor; thou the servant dragged it out upon the staircase where tho daylight shone. “N o w life is beginning again,” said the tree, rejoicing in the sunshine and fresh air. Then it was carried .down stairs and taken into the court yard so quickly ffi Coil In the blipi - eit I Glo - ry Glo - ry toGod** In the fclsU - est ’. j J ? - -g'A And tow sweetly the second movement followed! and how they worked in together! C!o-r/ !) Ood !» Wgkol.tad wUi • r. to Ab4 *i •uth pear*, K- will Glo- rz to Cc4 in to*blgfceat, And now it was all hold up for the smiles of a modern quartet! The aid chorister’s head sank upon tho bench, and his tears blurred the notes on the ancient page. birds building tlieir nests o n my boughs, nnd when tho wind blew I should bow with stately dignity like my tall compan ions.” Two Win ders passed. In the now i lvisn i were autumn, as usual, AS TA'.L AS OTI1EU tllO Woodcllt- trees!” ters came and cut down several of tho tallest trees, and the young fir tree, which was now grown to its full height, shuddered ns tlio noble trees fell to the earth with a crash. After the branches were lopped off, the trunks looked so slender and bare that they could scarcely bo recog nized. Then they were placed upon wagons and drawn by horses out of tho forest. “Where were they going? What would lie come of them?” Tho voting fir treo wished very much to know. Ho in t’no spring, when tlio swallows and the storks came, it asked, “Do you know where those trees were taken? Did. you meet them?’ Tho swallovys knew nothing; but the stork, after o little reflection, nodded his head and said, “Yes, 1 think I tlo. I met several new ships when I Dow from Egypt, and they hail fine masts that smelt like fir. I think thoso must have been the trees; I assure you they were stately, very stately.” “Oh, how I wish 1 u ore tall enough to go on tho sea,” said tho fir treo. “What is this sea and what does it look like?” It would take too much time to explain,” said the stork, flying quickly away. “Rejoice in toy youth,” said the sunbeam; rejoice in thy fresh growth and the young life that is in thee.” And the wind kissed tho tree and tho dew watered it with tears, but tho fir tree regarded them not. Christmas timfe drew near nnd many young trees were cut down, some even smaller and younger than tho fir tree, who enjoyed neither rest nor peace with longing to leave its forest homo. These young trees, which were chosen for their beauty, kept their branches and were also laid on wagons and drawn by horses out of the forest. “Where are they going?” asked the fir tree. “They are not toiler than I am; mile d one is much less; and why ure tho branches not out off? Where are they going?” “We know, wo know,” sang tho spar rows. “We have looked In at the windows of the houses in the town, and we know what is done with them. They are dressed up in the most splendid manner. We have seen them stand ing ill tho middle of TOT.tl THK MICE ALL A'.IO'JT ITS TOCTH. that it forgot to think of itseif, and could only look about, there was so much to lie seen. The court was close to a garden, where everything looked blooming. Fresh and fragrant roses hung over the littlo |<al- iags. The linden trees were in blossom; while the swallows Dew here and there, cry ing; “Twit, twit, twit, my mate is coming,” but it was uot the fir treo they meant. “Now 1 shall liTe,” cried the tree, joyfully, spread ing out its branches; but, alas! they were all withered and yellow, and it lay in a corner amongst weeds and nolties. The star of gold paper still stuck ill tlio top of tho tree, and glittered in tho sunshine, lu the same court- yard two of the merry children were playing who had danced round the treo at Christmas, and had been so happy”. Tho youngest saw the gilded star, and ran and pulled it off tho tree. “Look what is sticking to the ugly old fir tree,” said the child treading on th» branches till they crackled under his boots. And the tree saw ail tho fresh, bright doners in tho garden, and then looked at itself and wished it had remained in the dark corner of tho garret. Then a lad came and chopped tho tree into small pieces, till a large bundlo lay in a heap on the ground. The pieces were placed in a fire uim op tlio ooDDcr. and they quickly blazed up ovigntiy, win to mo treo siguea s« deeply that each sigh was hko a ’ittlo pistol shot. Then the children, who were at play, came and rested themselves in front of the fire, and looked at it, nnd cried, “Pop, pop.” But at each “pop," which was a deep sigh, the tree was tliiuking of a summer day in tho forest or of some winter night there, when the etnrs shono brightly, and of Christmas evening. Now all was past; tho tree’s life was past, and the story also—for ail stories must come io an end at hist.—Adapted from Hans Christiau Anderson. WHAT WILT, nAITETT NEXT? Xib At ai A li f “ .. t old chorister yielded his place at once with out a word of protest. The celebration of the kindly festival be gan with a musical service on Christmas era Tho new quartet was in place aud Hezekiah sat with the audience. Iu deference to old time custom some of tho hymns were sang by tho entire congregation. The old chonster tried to sing with the others, bnt after a few bars the tears somehow got entangled in bis voice, nnd, ns he could not sing nnd weep too, ho stopped singing. When it “ over several of his neighbors approached him to say that they didn’t think there d tws any Improvement, and Hezekiah shook each one by the hand and answered notbinfr _ Tbe last gossiping couple b** M* ‘Gracious mnssv! Hezekiah, wr.ko up! wakoup’Kiab; you’ll ketch your death of cold? Come!" It was Peter Stone, tho sexton, dum- founded by surprise, shaking the old chor ister violently by the shoulder. Painfully Hezekiah raised his head. “Merry Christmas, Peter; I il ra.her stay here,” ho said feebly when ho sai% where he was. Peter laughed almost hysterically and tugged away persistently at the old man s shoulders. _ „, , . , “Como down to the fire,” he exclaimed; “the choir will be here right away to re- hearso for the service.” ••y es> I’d go,” answered Hezekiah, nna with great difiiculty he dragged his stiffened limbs down tho stairs into the vestry, where tho furr.aco was already roaring witn n freshly made fire. He submitted to bo rubbed and slapped by Peter to inc-nco a quickor circulation of his blood, but he gai e no clear answer to tho wondering inquiries as to how ho camo to be locked into the church over night. . Presmtlv the organ upstaire began to sound. Hezekiah shivered’ and Peter ruobed him ti e harder. Then the voice of tho bass iu the new quartet was heard reciting: “And there were shepherds ubid.ng m tho fi< The old chorister listened with staring eyes. Could it be! The long recitative came to an end, and then all tho voices took up in nroper order tho wigcis* chorus. , I “What does that mean, Peter?” exclaimed I Hezekiah, starting up. a warm room, and .adorned with ai 1 sorts of beautiful things— honey cakes, gilded apples, plnyth i n g s and many hundreds of wax tapers.” rr was the nnsT to “And then,” asked fall. the fir tree, trembling through ail its branches, “aud then what happens?” “Wo did not sec any mere,” said the spar' rows; “but this was enough for us.” “I wonder whether anything so brilliant will ever happen to me," thought tho fir tree. Itojoieo with us,” said tho air and the sun light! “Enjoy thino own bright life in fresh air.” ' But tho tree would not rejoice, though It “Why,’twos runout as o Christmas sui>’ grew tailor every day, and winter andram- receive: permission to plunder the tree. Oh, how they rushed upon it, till the brauclies crack ed, and bad iu not been fastened with tho glistening star to the ceiling, it must have been thrown down. The children then danced about, with their pretty toy*, aud no oue noticed tho tree, except tho children’s maid, who camo and peeped among the branches to see if an apple or a fig had been forgotten. “A story, a story,” cried the children, pull ing a little Cat man toward the tree. “Now we shall be in the green shade,” said tho mun, as lie seated himself under it,' ’and the tree will have the pleasure of hearing uieo, but I shall only relate one story; what shall it l>«? Ivede-Avede, or Ilitmprv Dumpty, who fell down stairs, but soon got up again, and at last married a princess.” Ivede-Avede,” cried some. “Huiapty Dumpty,” cried others, and there w»s a fine shouting and crying out. But tho fir tree re maiued quite still, and thought to bin.tell. Shall I have anything to do with all this?” but he hail already amused them a* much as they wished. Then the old man told them the story of Huinpty Dumpty, how he fell down stairs, and was raised up again, and married a princess. And the children dap ped their hands aud tried, “Tell another, tell another,” for they wanted to hear the story of Ivede-Avede;” but they only had “Huinpty Dumpty.” After this the fir tree became quite silent and thoughtful: never had the birds lu the forest told such tales as “Humpty Dumpty,” who fell down stairs, end yet mar ried a princess. Ah! yes, so it happens in tho world,” thought the fir tree; he believed it all, be cause it was related by a such a uice man. Ah! well,” he thought, “who knows? per haps I may fall down too, and marry a princess;” and he looked forward joyfully to tho next evening, expecting to bo again decked out with lights and playthings, gold and fruit. “To-morrow 1 will not tremble,” thought he; “I will enjoy all my splendor, and I shall hear the story of Humpty Dumpty ugain, and perhaps Ivede-Avede.” And the treo remained quiet and thoughtful ail night. In tlio morning tho servants and tlio house maid came in. “Now,” thought the fir, “all my splendor Is going to begin again.” But they dragged him out of the room and up- «tairs to the garret, and throw him oh the floor, in a dark corner, where no daylight shone, and there they left him. “What does, this mean?” thought the tree. “What am I to do here? I can hear nothing iu a place like this,” and he leant against the wall, and thought and thought. Aud ho had time enough to think, for days and nights passed and no one camo near him, and when at last somebody did come, it was only to put qway large boxes in a comer. Bo tho treo was completely hidden from sight ns if it had never existed. “It is winter, now,” thought tho treo, “tho ground is hard nud covered with snow, so that people cannot plant me. 1 shall be sheltered here, I daresay, until spring comes.” “Squeak, squeak,” said a littlo mouse, creeping cautiously towards tho treo; then came another, and they both sniffed at the fir tree and crept between tho branches. “Oh, it is very cold,” said the littlo mouse, “or else wo should bo so comfortable here, shouldn’t wo, you old fir tree!” “1 am not old,” said the fir tree, “there aro many who aro older than 1 am.” “Where do you come from, nnd what do you know?” asked the mice, who were full of curiosity. “Have you seen the most beauti ful places in the world, and can you tell us all about them? aud have you been in tho store room, where cheeses lie on tho shelf, and bams lmng from the coiling? Ono can run •bout on tallow candbs, there, and go in thin and come out fat.” “I know nothing of that place,” said tbe Or treo, “hut l know the wood where the su» CHaiSTMAS SERVICES. Tho village church on Christmas Pay. Holils kindly hearts anil pleasant faces And some are seen to sing and pray Who seldom go to such like places. But If for only onco a year Their heart* aro touched. It makes them better; Aid he who feels his conscience clear Must own himself tho season's debtor. Enter here both rich and poor, Come la simple hope and faith; X«uve liehiud you ut the door Love of life and dread of death. FOR SALE! r Room house and two acre lot, crib and cow %) house; also fine fruit trees, m Winterville. Ga , and hi 200 yards of the depot 011 Railroad Street. This piece of property Is in good repair and rent* for§125.00 Trice §1.300.011c half cash b-oauce in 12 months at 8 percent Interest 3 Room house iu East Athens, in good repair and well moated an In bought lor 8300 i tore house on extension of H oad Street in I E st 1 tlu-ns < an be bought cheap fiiri Acre farm in 3 miles of Athens, 40 lu a high DU state of cultivation, 211 acres In pasture aud original f rest; 2 branches running through thn place. This place. Is well improved with an 8 room dwelling, ham, statiles, carriage house, poultry house und ■ otton house; within one half mile of a school and church and In 300 yards of the : &M Railroad, l’rlce $1200, one half cash balance in 12 months at 8 p^r cent interest. T ri Acres of land 8 In a high state of cultiva- 1U tion, 2 in woods, some fine fruit trees and a 3 room dwelling 011 the place and within Smiles of Athens for §300. •)(\n Acres of splendid land, within 2 miles of L\J 1 the post office of Athens, on the read leading out to Wi.t-insvllle. It has a 0-room dwelling, stables and other houses used on a farm. It has also 2 tenant houses 150 acres of the land tn a high state of cultivation the balance in old field pines anil original forests. This place has also a fine orchard on it. 3 Room house and half acre lot on Oconee 1 ' TOT mi SfcATB. Oomo on this tho day of days. Humbly pray on bended knee; Sing tho fervid song of praise. All the seats in heav’n ore treo. street for $050. TO RENT. The office where Dr. Steber occupied on Jack- sou street, a splendid stand for a dentist or a phyidcUn. 5-Koom house on Doughertv street, convenient business, for *15 per month, 4-R iom house on Handcock ave., convenient to bnsiness, for til). ^ Room house on Jackson Street. Mr. Gantt’s splendid Fairvlew farm, In 15 min utes walk of the IVstoflie of Athens. It has a new 1 ‘-room house, 3 wells of good water, fine barn, lte varieties of grape vines, they bear well; also a fine orchard. There Is also a nice pasture, aud about 50 acres of laud In a high state of cultivation This place can he rented very reasonable by calling on J. T. ANDERSON, IL E. A. Richmond: and: Danville: Railroad Northeastern Division, CONDENSED SCHEDULE IN EFFECT JUNE 24TH.1888. Trains run by 75th Meridian time. BETWEEN ATHENS AND ATLANTA- NO. oH ' ' Christmas in * Restaurant. daily Leave Athens 7:40 a. m, Ar’ve At'xnta 12 noon 5'. Ex da 6:(0 p. m 0:40 p.m N<». 41 iiX. sUaIMY.I Leave Atlanta 5 30 p. in. Ar’ve Athens 10:25 p, m 53 Daily. 3:10 e. m 12:20 noo 6etwee7Tathens AND THE EAsfT No. 53—Daily 1 Leae Athens 7:40s.m. Ax. Wash’zton 7.0 > a. m.l .... at, New York 1 20 p m 1 No 57 Ex. tunday 6:00 p. in. 7:45 p m. 620am. Pullman l’alace Buffet sleeping cars from Lula to i\ ashlngton anil New York’ delid trains Lula to Washington. between m ath ens~andTula. 11 ' Southbound. Northbound. STATIONS. AMIPMIaMiLV 7 01 8 35 IO30I Lula 8 30 8 65:1050 Gillsvllle AR. noMMayiv'lle 1125 Harmony Grove 11451 Nicholson 1200 Center 1220 Athens PM| AR LV 51 a r 53 ? H I9 3 p PM AM PM, 750 V 30 9 30 730 9 10 8 55 715 853 8 25 055 8 35 7 55 S 33i« 13 7 25 6 20 8 00 TOO 6 00 7 40 6 30 ’ PM \M PM Mr. W ay back (spending his ■Christmas In town)—Waiter, for gracious sake bring me something to break up this turkey with. Waiter—Wet’ll y«r have, dynamite or anaxl and 22 will’ run dally excepV'siu.'dey. Trains run by 75th Meridian U me—One hoar UU wSag&g m 'fflB83lM. ‘It awnSSiuSf'