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A 4. A A A
The Study of a
Beauty. • • By i
• • Austin Maitland. 1
HE was Sir Wilfrid Lowry's
s only daughter, the beauty
of two past seasons and
still the beauty of a third.
No entertainment was com
plete without her, and even
her own sex, ihough critical to ’.he
Niunllest fault, admitted that she de
served her reputation.
According to report, she had been en
gaged as many times as she had seen
seasons—which were three. Whether
it was true or no, even Sir Wilfrid
could not have said. But a society
beauty must at least be reputed to he
engaged, otherwise he,r beauty becomes
a thing of question, and it is satisfac
tory that such an effort to maintain a
reputation need not be brought about
by one's ow n actions.
The fact remained, however, that j
she was not married, and if her father
were asked for the truth of any of
these matters—or even congratulated
upon them—he replied: "Yiolet knows
more about it than 1 do; in that she
probably knows tliai tbore's no truth
in it—whereas I don't know ’s
true.” And at that complicated an
swer people smiled, when they under
stood it.
Lady Lowry had been dead for many
years, and Yiolet had grown to look
upon her father as a chaperon. He
devoted his whole time to her, taking
her everywhere, and denying her noth
ing.
“I want lo go and see that exhibition
of sketches at the Bohemian Gallery,”
Yiolet said to her father one morning
at breakfast.
"Why?" he asked, curiously. Re
knew that (here must be some espe
cial reason—there always was except
to tlie unavoidable invitations. "I
don't suppose it's worth seeing,” he
added. "No well-known men exhibit
af that gallery. They're all stragglers. •*
"Every man's struggles are original
In a way.” she said, thoughtfully.
*4 Moreover. I have heard that there is
a picture there, very much like me—
and I want to see it.”
Sir Wilfrid smiled, “Now I under
stand.” he said, "Qf course we will
go. If it’s good, I'll buy it. and if it's
bad—well. I'll buy it all (lie same and
burn it," and lie looked at her admir
ingly.
He often paid her compliments like
that.
"I don't know who it’s by, she said,
smiling at him in return.
“How should you?” he replied. And
After breakfast they started.
At 11 o'clock in the morning there
were few. if any. people at the gnl
levy. 11 is doubtful if any one went
after lunch, for it seems (he fate of the
unknown men to he cut.
Violet did not know ihp name of the
artist or the picture, so it was some
time before they found out the paint
ing in question.
Sir Wilfrid discovered it. Here we
are." he said and then he uttered an
ex< Initiation. "1 never saw anything
so like you in ail m.v life," lie said, ex
citedly. "Far belter than that old
academician, who made you sit in his
studio for hours.”
M »til a little cry of delighted expect
ancy, Yio let came to his side to look
at it.
“Father.'" she exclaimed, “surely it's
meant for me! Look, you see there's
more Ilian one of Ihem. Here's an
other frame full of different attitudes
and poses; but how on earth could the
artist have painted them? Aren't they
wonderful?”
"Marvelous! was all Sir Wilfrid
could say. "Marvelous!" and ihen he
repeated it again.
The picture was in water colors—
the head and shoulders of a very beau
tiful girl, far more like Yiolet than
any photograph could have been, and
it was called “The Study of a Beauty.”
But this was not all. In ij frame
quite as large, hanging by its side,
were a set of pictures with the same
title.*aml the same model in almost a
dozen different attitudes. Here only
Ihe hack of ihe head was seen: in
another the face hi perfect profile,
There it was bending low. as over a
book; and there, again, was thrown
back so that the full throat was stiow
ing. Yet still further, there were oor
m as of the paper devoted to studies of
the arms and shoulders and hands; all,
every one of them, as like Violet as a
t-diror yould have portrayed here.
They stood before the picture ami
and could say nothing. Violet broke
Hie silence at last with a little cry of
surprise and eagerness, One of the
hand studies showed a ring oil tho
fourth finger. She bent down swiftly
«• nd looked at it.
“Yes. father," she said, excitedly,
<. look, it must be meant for me—see,
even the ring is exactly the same as
mine.”
She held out her hand for him to in
epect; and on tiie fourth finger was a
singular ring of pearls and diamonds,
which was portrayed exactly on the
same finger in the sketch.
"Do you know the artist. Yiolet?" Sir
Wilfrid asked, almost suspiciously.
"Never heard of him. What's his
name? Is it in tiie corner?”
They both ,, looked, , 1It but could „ see only .
the small letters of the initials—.!, fe.
S.. which did not enlighten them in the
least.
"Are you certain that you did not sit
for him?” asked Sir Wilfrid, still un
convinced.
Yiolet laughed. "Silly old dad." she
said, -How could 1. if I didn't know*
him?”
"Of course not,” he said, vaguely.
Sir Wilfrid looked at it again, then
went to one of the porters.,
-Who is tliis portrait by?” he asked,
pointing to the study.
"Don't know, sir,” said the man.
"Leastways. I'm not allowed to tell.
Sir Wilfrid grunted. "Will a sover
eign be any held to you?” he said,
smiling.
"Not in the least, sir.” the man re
plied, stolidly.
Sir Wilfrid grunted again. “Well, is
the picture for sale?" he asked.
“No, sir. It's the only one in tin
gallery that isn't.”
They went away disappointed. Not.
however, before they had taken an
other good look at the picture.
"I have a good mind to steal it, • •
Yiolet said, as they left.
-At any rate, 1 shall write to the
managers about it. said her father.
As soon as they got home he did so;
but no good ever came it it. The artist
remained a mystery, Then the gallery
closed, and they practically forgot all
about it.
it was some months afterward that
Yiolet was calling on Mrs. Mapleton
in Park Lane. She wjs introduced and
found herself sitting next to a man
whose name she did not eatcli. There
were few people in the rooms, and ac
cordingly conversation became more
or less easy.
The subject drifted to artists—after
(he theatres and such fopics had been
exhausted: and she asked him why art
ists were always so slovenly.
"Slovenly?” he said, smiling, ti Is
that an invariable rule?”
"I have always found it so,” she re
plied.
“Then I expect artists have known
you better than you have known
them.”
"How do you moan?” she asked.
"Well, you couldn’t have seen many
artists—whereas many artists have
seen you. Now. I try to pride myself
on the fact that T am not slovenly. I
really dislike dirt.”
“But are you an artist?”
"Sometimes I hope so—and. some
times I am told so.”
"Oh. I am so sorry. I shall never
generalize again.”
"You are generalizing even when you
say that.”
She smiled amusedly.
"Do you mind if 1 ask your name:”
she said. "I'm afraid when Mrs. Ma
pleton introduced you that I didn't
quite catch it.
"Staines.” he replied. “Quite un
known to you, of course. In fact, if
you toid me T was not an artist. I could
not contradict you.”
“Where do you exhibit?” she said.
She noticed that (he blood flushed to
his face, and in one instant her instinct
told her that it ivas he who bad
painted Ihe portrait of her at the
Bohemian Gallery.
“I think I must nave seen some of
your work." she said, before he had
time to reply. "Didn't you exhibit at
the Bohemian Gallery—‘Tire Study of
a Beauty.' I think you called the pic
ture?” And then she in turn flushed.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“Deductions. You see. you had put
your initials on die picture.”
"Yes. that was foolish of me. «•
“Why?”
“Because—well, because it was dar
ing. when I had uot obtained your
leave."
"But how did you do ii without me
to sit for you?” she asked.
*» Forgive me if 1 would rather not
say, •• he said.
She saw that he felt very much era
harrassed. .
“Well, is it still not for sale?” she
asked, after a moment’s pause.
"Y’es. It will never he sold.”
Y'oii wouldn't sell it to me if I
offered yon well, any price for it?”
“No. Please don't ask I'm
afraid that I couldn't.”
Y'iolot relapsed into silence. She
fol- that he was inexorable. At tliis
moment the hostess separated them.
A beauty's time at a reception is not
her own.
Rlio hold out her hard when saying
good-by to him.
“Y’ou must come and see my father.”
she said. “He will he very pleased to
meet you. Don't sell it.” she added.
“No.” he replied, determinedly. “For.
to tell the truth, I would far sooner
give it.”
A few days afterward ho called: and
after that followed an invitation to
dinner. As they sat over their nuts.
Sir Wilfrid turned to hi< guest.
i.r Fell me,” he said, "how you man
aged those marvelous sketches of my
daughter?”
He looked up at the picture, which
was now in his possession.
"I'd rather not," Stai fc>s replied.
A SERMON FOR SUNDAY
■
__
AN ELOQUENT DISCOURSE ENTITLED.
“UNFINISHED THINGS.’ 1
--
j- lle k* v . a. C. Mor*e Ba*o »n lnt«r.
«. s;i „ K Andress Upon the First and {
i.ast Wor;U in the Script,uies— B® Xoi
impatient, (Jo«l Has » Plan.
Brooklyn. N. Y.-Jn the.Strong Place
Baptist Church Sunday morning the pas- i
tor, the Kev. A. H. C. Morse, preached Prangs.
» ™ on Lnhmshed
My sennomthi* last morning is based upon
the first and the words in the Scrip
tune: "In the beginning God created the
heaven and the earth, Lven so, come
Lord Jesus.” And between these texts
there is an immeasurable distance. The !
first deals with the beginning of things •
The last closes the Bible with a note of i
incompleteness. B The first takes us worlds! back j
to the moment when the shining lieav- !
were hurled from the battlements ot
en by the hand oi the Creator. The see
ond points forward to some “far off divine j
event to which the whole creation moves.”
j, woaJd „ 0 i ve manv troubles in our.
thinking if we remembered that we live in
a world of unfinished things. This earth
is not a finished product. It is rather the \
sum of all the forces with which it wag i
stored in the beginning. It is what some
one stands has with called shaded an expectant looking creation. toward It j !
eyes
the future. Hidden behind all its move- end.)
ment there is a divinely their appointed false ideas of
Men may correct all
evolution in the light they of this single posit truth, God. |
But in the beginning unfinished product. must Whoever
Life is an
*«v » finished life? In a great workshop
we must Iook lor noise and dust and tu
Hiu p an( j confusion. We also look for the
finished product,- but it is not there. A*
soon as a product is finished it is removed,
Its place is not there in all that dust and
dirt. L his wor.d is Gods great workshop,
A re we startled at. the noise and confu
sion? Human beings are in process of be
ing formed and perfected. But the end it
not yet. "It doth not yet appear what we \
shall be.” No one is perfect to-day. And
v.hat we call the best is made up of mi
finished and incomplete products. If this
world has ever seen the perfect, it is only j
that it would be removed. Life is a great
gc j 100 ] # \\ 7 hat man is, or does, aitei- grad*
nation has not been told us yet with any
detail, j
We are appalled at. the e\idcnces of so- j
eial wreckage. They tell us there is noth j j
ing good in all the world, that the whole
earth is a vast madhouse, her inhabitants
are drunk with delirium, the fields are be- i
coming bankrupt, exhausted. and They the tell harvests that th« are |
wel1 nigh us ;
strong trample the weak to death in their ;
,. rue | greed and hunger. Now this seems
to me like a false interpretation. The j
world is filled with madness. It does reek
in crueltv and greed. But still I afn
taught that this world is God’s, and that j
^ j s working for a divinely appointed end.
It manifests along its course »ne great in
tention.
Who, then, are the pessimists? They _
arc the disappointed her whom skirts. fortune Here seems is
to have shaken from a
: man you used to- know. Then he was
bright and keen and vivacious and ener
I ln those days his eyes were blight
■ the gleam ot far-off fire. But now we
I meet him and the light has faded from Id's
j eye, and the spring has departed from his
i step, and he has joined the great army ot
I the disappointed. He had set his heart
upon obtaining something which the pasiy
| ing years have said he could never have,
And his life has failed and his possessions
have taken flight. Now what docs this
■ displaced mean? It simply means that lie has been the
world. When by the very progress inarching of
an army is for
ward and it quickens its pace, the weaker
soldiers must fall bv the wayside. But the the
army lias gone to valiant duty. And
very fact that the world is sweeping on
ward means that some must be dropping
every year. 1 hey are flung backward be
c-imse the race is hurrying iorward.
lh« world » an incomplete world be
cause u is divine. If Hie, as we know it,
were comp ete, it this were the end then
we should have to-day the ultimate stand
ard ot success. Our judgment o ourselves
and of others would be final. But w that
so? Who ot us dare judge another? Do
we not rather look at this life as part ot a
who,e wimse greater part lies beyond the
vision ? There isn t room m the longest
human career to develop all we hope and
love and long for. And so we say tfiat the
niost hat encouraging thing complete. about J be this life is
it is noc yet basis ot
hope « the possibility or growth-npt id
tnc perfection or attainment now or u. trie
.mmednite future.
tuat bhal the l earthly be mi ^understood life ot tne if Saviour I point par- out
took of this same incompleteness? His ac
lions. Hi, parablns, His the whole teaching
constitute a promise ot future. His
life led to His death. His death to His res
urrectisn. His resurrection to His ascen
sion, His ascension to His throne of glory,
and that, again leads to His second coming.
“Even so. Gome, Lord Jesus.” It is as
1 hough the lines of life projected far be-
3 ond our farthest ken. and could be fol
lowed only by an infinite hope Why was
He. He found that the‘world did not
want Him the rulers of the state had no
place God had jor Him, tne chut eh or Judea that
j been (raining for 1S00 years to
look for Him did not know Him. Why
) in vas J Hunselr Ie the wells dea P ail of j . B «eaase Not He ?hc had
of indifference, joy. joy
not the joy of Him who
sees and does not care But the joy
lira who sees all, and through all to the
living God. Just as in one oi ( orot s pic
tines you cm see in the foreground the
] gnarled and bluskeued trunks, and bc
: yond all and behind all the clear shining
of the sky......
r The gospel with its mission still
e.omplished unac
is another instance of that
thought before us. ln the world, in ihe
church and in the soul of the believer the
1 gospel sees not yet nil filings put under it.
k'ud that for the simple reason that this
!, R wcrkl of unfinished .things. And even
I this . inspiration, for
may come to us witn
] unlike the dwellers in the Orient we live
] in the mids-. of unfulfilled prophesies. Nor
| shall conditions they ever be other fnlfleled circumstances here. Other
and are
| might needed. From this incompleteness one
| immortality. gather the This largest world argument is in accordance for our
| with a divine purpose, ami cannot he ex
i have lUfu-hk” bST?
been replaced by a new earth where
J se.f in dwelkth shall be righteousness. satisfied. Thfen He Him
]
i The old philosophers used to represent
ai l ,|,ings in a slate ot continual flow.
j They stood by the river whose dark wa •
i ®rs, ied from some hidden source, stole
j pa-v in voiteh ss mystery. They saw the
same luyetermas flew in the seasons, in
Sir Wilfrid !
I would rather you did."
said, smiling. j
-Well.” he said at length. “I went j
to every place where 1 knew that I
should nee hor. ami made studies of
exevy attitude and every feature; then
tmak" them home to improve upon with '
my memory. I have hundreds more,
he added, laughingly.
“H"m!” said Sir Wilfrid. “And what
made yon so fascinated with her-eh?”
Staines’ face was scarlet in a J
moment. “I’m not the only one who i
has felt -the same, sir.” he said, awk- j
wardly. |
"You mean that von—you love her?” I
Sir Wilfrid said gruffly, hut not mi- i •
kindly. I
“I should only he afraid to tell Iter i
so,” he replied. i
Sir Wilfrid lit a clear. “Well, she's in {
I
the drawing room." he said, shortly. ,
"You'd better along and whether f
go see i
she's afraid to hear it.” |
Another wonderful portrait of Sir
Y» dfrid . , Lowry . s only daughter , was m . j
(lie Academy the following year—by i
her husband.—New York Weekly.
i
A RICH GOLD MINE. j
For Several Years Kager Fortune Seekers j !
Worked Over It. 1
A tale is told of a rich gold mine in ;
Idaho with a ledge of ore which once i
■
extended above the surface ol the
ground in a clear, solid ridge several
feet high 4 and entirely * distinct from the j .
formation. f|M 11ns .. , ledge , was
surrounding
long and unbroken and lay directly
across llie course which hundreds of
prospectors * took evevv : year *, to reach ! j
other , gold ,, fields. „ ,, bus obstruction . .. or , j
rock, the great value of which was j
long unknown, was too high to be stir- i
mounted, by pack animals, so the pros- !
pectors cut a frJPH directly through it.
For several years these eager gold j
seekers passed backward and forward j !
this t . hic iiail in seaich Af ol gold mines. in!npc
One night a prospector camping near
this ledge of rock picked up a bit of it j
and from force of habit took it to a
creek near by and washed it. Then he
examined the stone, and, to his great : j
i
astonishment, lie found “colors •• it ;
—bits of sparkling gold. The pros- i
nector does ‘ riot mistake "Old ” when he !
sees it. lie is . not deluded , by iron . ;
crystals or bits of mica, as the “tender- j j
foot” frequently is. The old sparkle
1
is clearer auil brighter than that of any
other mineral, . and , it . is . the same in . j
sunshine and .shadow. |
The prospector, tremendously e x_ |
eited, broke o!f more pieces of the j I i
ledge and found more c it bearing .
free gold. Then lie located his claim,
and that wap the beginning of a rich
mine l) ) if. Yet Yet frw to. je«i). tho the ««n.ost sagest ot nf m-ns pto.
pectors had passed over this trail
through the cut in this ledge, never sus
pectiug its value, although by its very
prominence it. seemed to invite inspec
tion.—Leslie's Weekly.
Mine. Tamtam].
Mme. Tussaud was already famous
in Haris before she went to England.
It was with Iwo of her waxen repro
ductions. seized by the people for a
parade through the streets of l’aris.
that the French revolution was
started. The soldiers attacked The
figures. Two days later followed the
memorable storming of The Bastile.
Modeling wax had been 1he fashion
able craze of the conn and the rich.
It was caught from a physician of
Berne named Guitius. who turned to
fine art his remarkable skill in model
ing anatomical specimens and was in
vited to Paris by the Hrince de Conti.
Mme. Tussaud, nee Marie Greslioltz,
(he child of a soldier, was his niece
and adopted daughter, first his pupil
and finally his master. There were
few personages whose names are
famous now in connection with Ihe
revolution who did not “sit” to the
young artist in wax. The heads of
some she had to model after the guil
lotine had been employed upon them.
She gave lessons in the art to the
king's sister. Mme. Elizabeth, among
other illustrious persons, and was ino
prisoned with Josephine Beanliarnais,
afterward empress. Even in those
early days M. Curtins had a “chamber
of horrors.”
But after the revolution Mme. Tus
sand left France forever. Nor did she
at ........ first find times m . England , much
more propitious. After trying (be
Strand. she moved to Blaeldieatb. then
a popular resort, hut at last had to go
on tour from town to town. It was
not till 1 Slir. that she was able to settle
permanently i:i London.—Chicago
Tribune.
Women of Siam.
There are no old maids in Siam, for
.there all the girls marry, and woman
is not considered to have attained her
highest estate til! she has become a ..
mother. Then she has reached tlie
pinnacla of honor, The chief wife is
the first wife, and she may not be
sold, but if her husband desire to be
rid of her he must dhorce her ac
cording to the law.
Medical tflanls.
A writer i: the American Journal of
PI,,l,,.» reS H„u about litre,.,
fourths of all the medical plants used
in the i^utrmaeopcia either grow wild
or are cultivated in this country. Of
the .... fourth, ,, . he ,, thinks . , ,, that .
remaining
prouably one-half could be grown in
this country, leaving but a compara
lively small number of plants tmtv’
amid not be fconomioally grown
L.e Wests, in human ■■■ *
inty posited motion a* ,v ‘
the world ot things. Now th Jr
a ” tr »te oi flow because it K '
; s
tnat again L
something ; ,_ 40u
ns. God ha.s not maao r „:
and love and hope me
iShShe and 1
g°rass ^ they
For what, then, does this
^° ■
wait? Paul tells us in one 0ie ^
ior the revealing of the sons oT(Vh*
worth''aU the rs^° a****•& %ia
t?ars 0 r our f a th e sa
•
pa j n with which jov and ^ 1
ished into shapeliness?
‘ ?? th f se sons of
« A ”
’ e *' e “ spirit <rf
waits, and B ^*’ without W
n ?!, ei ? a ‘ process halts. This the,
l v '„ ! f ie Pr od, d the worldi
- ^■ an
'V-. 1 '' *U cla the stars were fj®
..l 1 ' °., J**, But ,T J fhe process of
;l°“ said. Le.- us make man. and it 4
av point the purposes of the, C.
, ‘l me personal and human and
, T!< no " ntatcnless wonder! s,, t
' ' - }k
8te P eaanot be taken without the b
llim A°t ') e are laborers God together
velop - the possibilities even He Himself has »
ff“ hound
is leacnea no. by W ,a\v, wT but by His »nn sob
How. tnen. are we to swing
„ tins first this last.'
’ r011 } to From cr
Xo lae coming, and then again on
the glory that snail yet be revealed*
by finding the way of God. and
caught up in the mighty sweep of H
purposes. Here is a vessel longing i
port, and the wind is blowing favi
above. But she does not move. 4 P ,
move rill men shall run up the ttS
they shall catch the wind And th (
sinp that has lain of like a lifeless thu
comes a thing life and hurries i
wai. And sq it seems that the ti
come when the crises of history are 1
upon the work of man The gas
instance, has been . r
committed to the
of men. And, as I understand if. ti
ond text cannot be fulfilled till this
of the dwell kingdom is the preached in all the
i because upon it subject of unfi
things, that gives to us an int
tation enhances the value of iif
thinks of his own life in eempariso
the circling orbs, and says it is as
povtant thing, It is not useful, it
cnees no one. Why keep up this
struggle with heat and cold, and pa
privation? Why strive to do sweepstj better!
not- go with the lido that
the dark? The much real danger is not t|
shall think too oi omseives, b
've shall count our lives as wo
things. We _ cannot afford to loses
the pi act we hold in the purposes
A man's life taken by itself is an in
cant thing. But when we think of
part of a great whole it becomes of
value. It is as vast as all the sthi
which it is the part, ibis is ani
where the part js as large as ihewl
In bis college Sermons Dr. Peabo this
a beautiful illustration of
thought, lie refers to the iwo t
and fiftieth anniversary The of studenis the fqui
Harvard torchlight College. processions with i
in trail
,-i eR and banners. The freshmat
then only one month old, had thisfi
motto: “The university has waii
years for us.” And that lie says
profound truth. All the institute
had been slowly evolving for thes
hearted boys, and on their condu
rested the destiny of the future. I
if ;t is possible that this very wo
been waiting for us. And if th
some tilings yet unfulfilled that ifl
ing for the way we use these insignificafl day*
tint makes life vastly I
course, it does not mean that we
notable, or great, or prominent. know owl .*
other generations shall oil
But that our little lives are
meaning. said some* §
Jfr. F. B. Meyer has haul
fh - B j remember hearing "poem"
time that we are God's
wol . kmanship ). And you know
poeia £ is something very different
{ It contains a thought th;
t b<J & t in proge . To paraph the.
t dj]] beau ty. ' It flashes
w th t fonn ju t as a diamond p
only from that side. ‘ ho
j
Gods ^ poem! And a poem that eo:
th * And to express greai
has t to the writer value.; a
A d e ^liable is of
w ir u God’s poem. He is working] He
t , vh e ages to conic mil
exceeding riches of B]
« v )ife he insignificant?
• then, impair
; (;i place world in the to begmnin?
dc th is tained it b]
; , ■ ? t IIp haM sus finds
i form d / p]alJ . The present th>.
ace sliall AV e take myself in
' • y thingsFor and hope,
SXVJT’.SSi , f i and effort f.
rf faith ta
^ r , w5 } i; ft . nn vo j ce “Eveni that i
V Vr t*’* and hal a shout,
: d *' "
' *
1 .t£a,me#tne«»'
' Take it a
i T > ea.-nestlv t! ')' 1
t a) C9sei) a matter. bon
! performing ■, „n v , V ere task
Vil-Hta.fhlgltt a‘noble
I ^ ^hi^e
! nj a fo tan?
• and good sch enies. to help j
f „ W earv it may b«> *1
; I ke> , i”great ^ ster" The fact of is, life is UB |
bv majority women sho»L, ,!
'
j n ; ade ha: f a . much ,j, of as
! > ( .. LSV y 0 , r .‘ ,, | ud e „ a woman eanies'
t r wd labors straigk
eoniidently and
| e omes famous,
i
It Stretcili Forlli Thy fi" n H
: “Stretch forth thy haisi- H
S that weak hand shonnicd e> ■
cumstance.s of your life.
Y with that hand drawn > i ll
ou with hng er '
self; and von atf
thoughtless, unkind ith 1
! stretch them forth. Y -
! with unfaltering will, t whatei
weakness hand. And or its the need Cmist " ^ "" ]o0 i
, He will pity its wreak ness »
; and lo! whole--restored. as you stretch th«> it |° >^' r
f conn lK t
wiili kindly deed many »
waits—perhaps to v0
waits; and •
.Slattrrlv.
; Obedience and G< i,r -
' wel! have map ol -r (i&
It is to better a to m
the wav. but it is. of one ivll 3
! ; hit i-onqnivmmship personal expeneao\ •
wav hv diseipje* ^
< 'heist is to every trust it>o Mt
pm meed leader, iniduiy ove; |, £ i
, ut-lier apprehension sorrow ovei *^3
wider toi is.
j );>.■>- >>. Obedience the ’ t -
to-morrow—and let 71
'knowledge which we lack-