Newspaper Page Text
THE CALL.
When evil, like a poisoned wind,
Sweeps the good seed from soul and mind,
Or hearts ignore the love divine—
The tempter seeks each vacant shrine.
We fall and feel we cannot rise.
While others grasp the sacrei p;
Sin’s fog enshrouds our spirits vie *
Till God's clear sunshine glimmers through.
— William H. Hayne.
Practical Simplicity,
“Jusc the way with women folks,”
Mr. Harrison, “the old story of
Flora McFlimsey over again, ‘nothing to
wear.’ ”
“But, papa, you want us to dress re¬
spectably, don’t you,” asked pretty
Polly, with a suspiciou of a tear in her
eye.
“Why, yes; respectably,”replied Mr.
Harrison, still grumpily, “my mother
dressed respectably without these ever¬
lasting flummeries you girls are always
teasing me for; good, plain, sensible
clothes and common sense shoes, no opera
toes and French heels on her feet,” and
he glanced suggestively at the dainty
slipper, which inopportunely showed it¬
self beneath the ruffle of Polly’s pretty
morning wrapper.
“Grandmamma wore a long green
veil, and a nice big bonnet, too, didn't
she?” said mischievous Nellie, “and her
hair in a little knob at the nape of her
neck.”
“You needn’t make fun, miss,” re¬
plied her father, sternly, “your grand¬
mother was always sensibly and neatly
dressed, and it would be refreshing to
see some of her good taste in my fam¬
ily.”
Lave “But, really, Mr. Harrison, the girls
Lincoln’s nothing suitable to wear to Mrs.
rison, grand party,” said Mrs. Har¬
a meek, gentle-voiced little
woman.
“No, and they haven’t had anything
for the last five } r ears,” replied Mr. Har¬
rison, with withering sarcasm; “buy!
buy! and yet they are in the same dis¬
tressing situation of the female before
mentioned,” and he leaned back in his
chair with an air of having clinched the
Conversation with an unanswerable ar¬
gument. wish
“I I was a man,” said pretty
Nell, with a pout, “then I could wear
one suit everywhere by varying my neck¬
ties. ”
the “Papa, dear, you are going with us to
iously picnic, ain’t you?” said Kitty anx¬
; she was a dainty little fairy and
her father’s favorite, and, as she spoke,
she glanced at her sisters with eyes so
full of fun and mischief, that they knew
she had some plan in her fertile little
brain.
“Picnic!” said Mr. Harrison, in a soft¬
ened tone; he could not be cross with
Kitty and she well knew it. “Bugs and
earw igs! When I want my dinner sea
soned with spiders and grand-daddies, I
can eat it in the garden.”
“Oh, but, papa, we want to go aw¬
fully !” said Kitty, coming and perching
herself on his knee; she took daring ad
vantage of her privileges as the young¬
est, “and it is so awkward to go to such
a place without a gentleman.”
“Oh, well! lean charter Tom for the
occasion,” replied Mr. Harrison, quite
good humoredly, “he is used to handling
packages, and you’ll find he will manage
your five baskets and fifteen bundles in
good style.” Tom was porter in Mr.
Harrison's large store, and doubtless
merited the recommendation.
“But that isn’t you, papa,’’replied per¬
sistent Kitty, winding her arms around
her stiff-necked parent, and kissing the
lips which could say such unkind things.
“Oh, you wheedler!” responded Mr.
Harrison, with a feeble attempt at dig¬
nity, “but there; I have just been in¬
formed that you have nothing to wear.”
“Oh! just for a picnic, papa, one can
wear anything, you know,” and her eyes
danced a perfect jig of delighted mis¬
chief, “plain white is perfectly suitable
for a bug and beetle affair of that kind.”
“In my day, plain white was consid¬
ered just the thing for party occasions
also,” said Mr. Harrison, quite mollified
by his pet's attentions.
“No hoops, or bustles, I suppose,” said
Kitty, thoughtfully.
“Not a hoop,” bustles, replied Mr. Harrison,
“and as for pah!’’
“Now, papa. I’ll make a bargain with
you,” said Kitty. “If you will go to the
picnic picnic dresses with us. we’ll the agree to Isn’t wear that our
to party.
fair?”
“Well, fair enough if there's hidden ‘
no
reservations, tiously. ” replied Mr. Harrison, cau¬
“How many yards of muslin and
bolts of ribbon is it going to take to be
frill you for the picnic?”
“If you'll give me tea dollars I think I
can manage the whole matter,” replied
Kitty, demurely.
“Well! well! that's getting off quite
he cheaply, ” said Mr. Harrison, laughin , as
counted out the money, while Irs.
Harrison and the sisters looked on in per¬
fect amazement, well knowing that Kitty
had some plan in her wise little head,
without in the least comprehending what
it could be.
The picnic morning was a rarity in the
weather line; a perfectly clear sky, and
just breeze enough to make it delightful,
and Mr. Harrison was in a rare good hu¬
mor add also, which was unusual enough to
materially to the pleasures of the
day, for, unfortunately, he could be de¬
cidedly “grumpy” on occasions, preceding but hap¬
pily for all concerned, the day
had been a particularly profitable one.
“It appears to me, mother, it takes
those girls an unusual time to prink this
morning,” said Mr. Harrison, looking train at
his watch a little nervously, “the
leaves at eight.” presently,” said the
“They'll be down
mother, with a surreptitious smile, as she
packed the sandwiches into one of the
baskets.
At length there was a subdued rustling
on the stairs, and the three girls filed
in demurely, and announced themselves
ready. said Harrison,
“What in--,” Mr. as
his eyes fell upon them, and seeing the
joke and his own defeat at one glance, he
bit his lip, and left the sentence unuttered.
Plain white dresses without a ruffle,
tuck, or overskirt, thick, high boots,
broad toes and no heels, not a hoop or
bustle, they were the plainest, primmest
trio of maidens, that ever appeared bright before hair
a fault-finding papa. Nell’s
was strained back from her high forehead,
giving her a wild, hawkish look,
her immense poke hat, which was adorned
with a long green veil hanging in folds
over one shoulder.
Polly was as near hideous as possible, which
under a great limp, sailor hat,
flapped discontentedly at every motion,
while dainty Kitty’s the good depths looks of
effectually buried in a
erous white sunbonnet.
“Your dresses are very becoming,
girls,” said Mrs. Harrison, sweetly,
the youthful grandmothers ranged
selves in a row.
“We think so,” replied Kitty, sol¬
emnly. ‘ ‘If I could only have
my black silk handkerchief apron.” reticule,”
“And my
Nell.
“Don’t we look neat, papa?”
Kitty, turning herself around for his in¬
spection. replied
“Very neat,” Mr. Harrison,
dryly, turning away to hide a smile
mingled amusement and vexation.
“We quite agree with you papa,
so much frippery is all nonsense,” said
Nell, arrauging her veil carefully.
“And sensation we are counting on creating
quite a at Mrs. Lincoln’s party,”
said Polly, mischievously, as she picked
out the bow of her muslin hat strings.
Mr. Harrison was fairly caught in his
words own trap, and his own him often repeated
came back to with rather un¬
pleasant force, as he looked at his daugh¬
ters in their unbecoming array, and
thought figures through of chaperoning the outlandish
the day.
He had not before realized how* proud
he had been of the daughters whose
good taste had made so much of nature’s
charms, and the scanty supply of pin
money, so grudgingly doled out to them.
Not that Mr. Harrison’s means necessi
— ~— -----©—— ^ +■»
a steadily increasing . bank a CJ coun made
such economy totally unnecessary, but
unfortunately, as riches increased, liber¬
ality shriveled aud grew less, until Mrs.
Harrison actually dreaded to ask him for
money to carry on the household, even
upon the most economical basis.
“You see, papa, I’ve given up cosmet¬
ics, and have to rely on nature and a
green veil for a complexion,” said Nell,
drawing dropped her veil closely over her face, as
she Polly’s arm, and took her
father’s in a delightfully filial clasp.
“Ah, Harrison! out for a pleasant trip,
eh?’’ said a fashionable acquaintance, as
they turned into Madison street, looking
quizzically at the curious figures with a
puzzled air. sir: yes,” replied Harrison,
.. Yes, Mr.
stiffly, getting month's very profits red; he would have
given dressed a in the if the girls had
been usual “fripperies.’’
As might have observed been expected, the
party was the of all observers,
as they passed along, and one little street
gamin called out enthusiastically to an¬
other: “Hi there, Jimmy! see them ver
Kate Greeny ways?” and Mr. Harrison felt
as if he was the proprietor of a circus, and
would gladly have left them to go alone,
if he could have done so, without
acknowledging himself iguominiouslv
beaten.
and In the car it was worse still; sly giggles
hand, whispers greeted them on acquaint¬ every
though, of course, their
ances understood that there was some
joke about the matter; but the girls were
seemingly entirely unconscious chatted of the
sensation they were creating, and head
and laughed under their monstrous
gear with all their accustomed vivacity,
keeping close to their father the while
to check any furtive attempt on his part
to escape to the smoking however, car. it
In the grove, was not so
easy to keep him iu surveillance,and after
dinner he took an umbrella and moodily
stalked and off to the shade of a giant oak, for
stretched himself upon the grass
a siesta. He had been there hut a short
time, when a couple of gentlemen strolled
along that way, and, seating themselves
on the other side of the tree, entered into
conversation.
“„8ythe way, Clifford, who stupendous are those
gawks over yonder, in the
millinery?” turned cold with horror;
Mr. Harrison
the speaker was the returned European,
in whose honor Mrs. Lincoln’s party was
given, and whom he had thought of in
connection with Kell, who was still heart
whole. “ ‘Gawks’ indeed!”
“Those?” replied the gentleman ad¬
dressed as Clifford, “why they are the
daughters of Mr. Harrison, the rich mer¬
chant.”
“Not Chauncy Harrison’s daughters ?”
replied the first in a voice of amazement.
“The same,” replied the other, “and,
as they are usually models of good taste
and neatness, I presume there is some
joke at the bottom of their absurd ap¬
pearance to-day. I shrewdly suspect
their father has been giving fashion, them a cur- and
tain lecture on the follies of
they are giving him an ocular demonstra
tion of his own ideas.”
“But surely, he has no need to restrict
them in any reasonable desires,” said the
first voice.
“Oh, no!” replied stingy the old other, in “but his
they do say he is a bear
own family and though dressed the girls in appear
neatly and tastefully obliged public,
my wife tells me that they are
to turn and re-turn and make over as
rigidly as if they were at the very foot
of the ladder, instead of out at the top.”
“It’s a shame!” broke the younger
man with warmth, “a man don’t deserve
a family who will treat them in
way.”
“That’s true,” replied the elder gen
tleman, and his tone had a shade of sad
ness in it. “I would give all I’m worth,
if I had those merry girls to make sun
shine in my quiet home, ” and he sighed,
as he thought of a far away cemetery,
where the hopes of a lifetime lay buried,
Just here the conversation was inter
rupted by Kitty, who came tripping
along side of toward the the umbrella on the other
tree; usually her movements
were most graceful, but to-day the short,
flappy of drsss persisted in catching on the
tops her big shoes, in a most awkward
manner.
“Why, papa, are you tired of us, that
you get away by yourself?” she asked,
sweetly, as she curled down by his side;
meanwhile the gentlemen had risen, and,
looking at each other with horrified
faces, had beaten a precipitate retreat.
“No, Kitty ; no,” he replied, in an
unusually gentle tone, and placing a
caressing hand on the trim waist, “but I
am thinking, so run away " dear, please,”
and Kitty wisely obeyed.
Yes, he was thinking, and his train of
thought was on a new line, as he pon
dered over and over the words he had
heard, and, somehow, as he weighed his
merry daughters, with their pretty, win
some ways, and their gentle mother in
the balance with his long bank account, ;
the money side grew wonderfully light, .
and he thought with a shudder of what
the world would be to him with even one
of the loved ones taken from him. j
“ ‘Stingy old bear,’ that just describes !
it,’’ he said to himself, as lie looked back
over the many contests, in which the !
very least which could be made to supply
the family wants had been grudgingly
given, only too frequently, with bitter
words which made the giving worse than
a charity.
“Hasn't this said been a most delightful
day, papa?” Polly, who escorted her i
father home from the train.
“Yes,” assented Mr. Harrison, soberly, j
“and a most profitable one also,” and he
meant his most
“I don’t think so,” said Kitty, as they
were entering the gate, “for I have a hor¬
rid green grass stain right on the hem of
my dress, and I shall have to put in a new
breadth before I can wear it to the party,”
and Mr. Harrison bit his lip at the allu¬
sion to their compact, but said nothing.
“Poor papa; he was so ashamed of us. ”
said Kitty, as the girls retired to their
bed, “actually, Kell, I never was so sorry
for any one in my life.”
“Girls,” said Mr. Harrison, the next
morning at breakfast, “didn’t I hear you
say something about a party to which
you had been invitedf” with an innocent
air of inquiring for information. mean,”
4 i At Mrs. Lincoln's, perhaps you
replied Nell, falling in with his conceit
and willing to ignore the past.
“You may need a little pin money for
the occasion,” he continued, taking a roll
of bills from his pocket-book, and care¬
lessly flipping one toward the plate of
each trifle of his daughters, “and wouldn’t I presume a
of spending money come
amiss with your mother,” he continued,as
he laid a bill beside his wife's plate, and
hurried away before the astonished family
could thank him for such a remarkable
performance. hundred dollars said Polly, in
“One 1”
an bill awe-struck in tone as she gazed at her
amazement.
“And mine is two hundred,” said the
little mother, with actual tears in her
happy eyes. the silk which
t» That means that new
you have needed so long is to be forth¬
coming at once,” said Nell, patting her
own bill with loving lingers.
“And for once we arc going to have
party dresses, without one shred of econ¬
omy stitched into them!” said Kitty,
getting pirouette up, in and delight, dancing that such the a spirited
her parrot
wnigged her head in wonder,as she shrilly
inquired in ails her the favorite child 1”— phrase: F. M. Howard “Bless
me! what ,
in the Current.
Arbor Day. *
The ^ ^ suggestion . of t planting
irs ree
under the direction of State authority
was made by B. G. Northrop, then Secre
tary of the Connecticut Board of Lduca
tion, about 1865, in an official State re
port. In 1876 this same gentleman en
deavored to stimulate “centennial tree*
planting” by the offer of prizes to tho
children of Connecticut. But the idea
offsetting apart a day for the work had
originated with ex Governor sterling
Morton, of Nebraska, who about 1872in
duced the Governor of that State to issue
a proclamation appointing a day for the
planting of trees throughout the Sbite^
A year or two later the day was made a
legal holiday by enactment of the Legis
lature, and provision was made for
awarding the premiums in its to observance. those who put out
most trees It is
said that nearly 700,000,000 Arbor Day
trees are now in thriving condition on
the prairie tracts of the State. The ex
ample of Nebraska was soon followed by
Kansas, and with grand observed rssults. in Arbor
Day in Minnesota, first 1876,
resulted, it is said, in planting In Michigan over a
million and a half of trees.
the Arbor Day law was passed in 1881,
and in Ohio in 1882. Since then Arbor
Day has been observed in (’olorado,\V is
consin, West Virginia, Indiana, Vermont,
New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Florida, Alabama,
Missouri, California, Kentucky, Maine
and Georgia. In several other States its
observance has been secured by the recom
mendation of the Grange, the Grand
Army of societies. the Republic, While or by State the agri
cultural at outset
economic tree-planting was the and primary
aim, the adornment of home school
grounds soon followed. On the first Ohio
Arbor Day, the children of Cincinnati
joined in an attractive celebration, in the
form of planting memorial trees and dedi
eating them to authors, statesmen, and
other distinguished citizens. B. G.
Northrup says, concerning the value of
the observance of Arbor Day: "While
forests should not be planted on our rich,
arable lands, there are in New England of
and all the Atlantic States large areas
barrens worthless for field wood-growing, crops,that may
profitably he devoted to
The feasibility of reclaiming our most
sterile wastes is proved abroad. by many Atlantic facts
both at home and Our
sand plains were once c overed with for¬
ests and can be re-forested. Over 10,000
acres on Cape Cod, which thirty years
ago were barren, sandy plains, are now
with thriving planted forests.—
Inter-Ocean.
Tennyson is reported in failing health,
and discussion is already rife as to who
will succeed him as Laureate.