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GONE.
heckered life together,
of fair and stormy weather,
ts oft light as downy feather,
Gone, forever gone!
omebts of eternal pleasure,
rer far than priceless treasure,
iter than the muslo's measure,
Gone, forever gone t
urs of pain and wea ly labor,
rclng like a glittering sabre,
e heart and the soul, Its neighbor,
Gone, thank God, thkt'be gone!
houghts whloli others could not borrow,
ords which flow to lighten sorrow,
d to brighten up the morrow,
Gone, lorever gone 1
es, toe year has gone forever,
~rne down Time’s resistless river,
ut memory will forget !i never,
Though it be forever gouet
For Our Youth.
The Story of a Gold Eagle.
A good many years ago a merchant
ed from his cash-drawer a gold
, which is worth twenty dollars,
ne had been to the drawer it was
ed, except a young clerk whose
e was Weston. The merchant
sent him there to make change
customer, and the next time the
was opened the gold eagle had
red.
urally Weston was suspected of
g stolen it, and mere especially
appeared a few days after the
rence in a new suit of clothes,
asked where he had bought the
he gave the name of the tailor
hesitation, and the merchant
rivately to make inquiries, dls-
that Weston had paid for the
a twenty dollar gold piece,
ternoon the young clerk was
the merchant’s private
charged with having com-
the theft.
is useless to deny it,” the mer-
»id, “ you have betrayed your-
h these new clothes, and now
ly thing that you can do is to
e a full confession of your fault.”
“eston listened with amazement;
e could hardly believe at first that
suoh an accusation could be brought
against him, but when he saw that
his employer was in earnest, he de
ed it indignantly, and declared that
e money he had spent for the
lothes was his own, given him as a
Christmas gift a year ago.
The merchant sneered at such au
explanation, and asked for the proof.
“Who was the person that gave it to
you? Produce him,” he demanded,
“It was a lady,” answered Weston,
and I cannot produce her, for she died
last spring. I can tell you her name.”
“Can you bring me anybody tha
w her give you the money or knew
f your having it?” asked the mer-
ant.
“No, I can’t do that,” Weston had
to answer, “I never told aDy on
about the gift, for she did not wish
me to. But I have a letter from her
somewhere, if I haven’t lost it, that
she sent me with the money, and in
which she speaks of it.”
“I dare say you have lost it;” the
erchant sneered. When you have
nd it, sir, you can bring it to me
then I will believe your story,
eston went home with a heavy
art. He had no idea where the
tter was; he could not be sure that
had not destroyed it; and it was
means of proving his inno-
le could produce it,
d, for he saw
the merchant was fully convinc-
ofhis guilt, and appearances, fil
ed, ware sadly against him. He
ut to work, however, in the right
y. He knelt down and prayed to
for help to prove that he was in
dent, and then he began to over-
aul the contents of his desk and
unk and oloset.
kept his papers neatly, and it
d not take him long to see that the
ter was not among them. He sat
n with a sense of despair when he
convinced of this. What else
uld he do ? Nothing but pray again
help and guidance, and strength
ndure whatever trouble God might
nd upon him.
keptics may sneer at such prayers
as this, but Weston (who is a middle-
aged man now, prosperous, respected
by all men, and deserving of respect)
would smile and say: “Let them
bjeer.”
“When 1 rose from my knees,” he
said, telling me the story years after
ward, “I happened to catoh my foot
in an old rug that I had nailed down
to the oarpet because It was always
ourliug up at the edges.' A nail at
from its hiding place, and it was the
letter.
“How it got there I do not know ;
the fact that I had found it was enough
for me, and if I had not gone on my
knees again to give thanks for such a
deliverance, I should be ashamed to
tell you the story now.
‘I brought the letter to my em-
plryer. It proved my innocence, and
he apologized. A month afterward
the gold piece was found In Mr.
Finch’s overcoat pocket. He had
never put it in the cash drawer at all,
though ho thought he had.—He raised
my salary on the spot to pay for his
uujust suspicions; and I have never
yet repented of trusting the Lord in
my trouble.”— Youvg Reaper.
“Only Five Minutes.
“You’ve been stopping on the way,
Tom,” said a poor widow to her son,
as he gave her the article that he had
been sent for. “Why don’t you come
straight home when you know my
time is so precious?”
“I did so, mother, until I got to Mr.
Giakill’s,” he replied, “and then I
stayed to have a look through the
window for only five minutes.”
“Only five minutes,” repeated the
widow, "means a great deal when you
come to reckon them all up.”
Tom Price looked at his mother as
if he had not understood her.
“Just reach down your slate,” said
the widow, “and then you will see
what I mean.”
Tom had his slate on his knee in a
twinkling. “Well, mother, what am I
to put down ?”
“Well begin with five, and tell me
how many minutes you waste in a
dey.”
Tom wrote the figures, scratched
his head, and looked into the fire.
“Would thirty be too many?”
asked his mother.
Tom thought not.
“Ve’y well,” continued Mrs. Price,
“There are three hundred and sixty-
five days in a year, and half an hour
for each day gives you a total of one
hundred and eighty-two and a half
hours, er upwards of fifteen days of
twelve hours each lost in twelve
months.”
Tom Price put his pencil between
his lips and stared at the sum before
him.
“Suppose you put down two hours
for each day, instead of thiriy min
utes,” added bis mother; “that will
show a loss of more than sixty days in
the year.”
Tom Price was a sharp lad, and he
soon proved the truth of the widow’s
statement.
“So it does, mother,” he said.
“But when I send you for anything
I want, and you stay loitering in the
street, my time has to be reckoned up
as well as yours, hasn’t it?”
Of course Tom could not deny that.
“Then try and remember,” said
the widow, “wnat a serious loss even
five minutes are to me. You know,
my boy, how very hard I have to
work to pay rent, buy bread and to
keep you to school, so that you ought
to endeavor to help rather than to
hinder your poor mother.” •
“I’ll run all the way the next time
I go;” said Tom.
“No, no; I don’t want you to do
that. I onl.v want you to bear it in
mind that our lives are made up of
these same minutes, and that we can
not afford to throw them away just as
we pleased’
Like a sensible little fellow, Tom
Price took his mother’s lesson to
heart, and it was a long, long time
before he was again heard to use the
words, “Only five minutes.”
Let our readers also reflect upon
the value of precious time, so as to
improve it to the best advantage.—
And let them remember that to help
us in this, as in every duty, we need
God’s grace; and this we shall re
ceive if we ask In the name of Christ.
He only can “so teach us to number
our days that we may apply our
hearts unto wisdom.”— Young Reaper
Georgia Aphorisms.
Better keep de rockin’ oheer in de
cabin lof till Sundry.
You can’t coax de rnornln’ glory to
climb de wrong way ’round de oorn-
stalk.
Smart rabbits go home ’fo’ de snow
done failin’.
Dead limb on de tree show lts’ef
when de buds come out.
Cuasin’ de weather is mighty po’
armin’.
Household Economy.
Breakfast Waffles. — After
breakfast stir into the hominy that is
left one teaspoonful of butter and a
little salt, Set it aside. The next morn
ing thin it with milk and add two eggs,
beaten well. Stir in flour enough to
make the right consistency, and bake
i:o w e file Irons.
Breakfast Muffins.—For a small
family use one pint of milk, three
gills of wheat flour, three eggs and a
pinch of salt. Beat the eggs very
light, add the milk, and, lastly, stir
intheflmr. Bake in rings or small
pans and in quick oven. They are
very light.
To Raise the Pile of Velvet —
Put on a table two pieces of wood ;
place between them, bottom side up,
three very hot flat-irons ; over them
lay a wet cloth ; hold the velvet over
the cloth with the wrong side down;
when thoroughly steamed, brush the
pile with a light whisp, and the vel
vet will look as good as new.
Velvet Cream.—Two tablespoon
fuls of gelatine dissolved in a half-
tumbler of water; one pint of rioh
cream; four tablespoonfuis of sugar ;
flavor with vanilla extract or rose
water. Put in molds aud set on the
ice. This is a delicious dessert and
can be made in a few minutes. It
may be served with or without cream.
Renovating Fur —Take a large
tin pan ; put a pint of wheat flour in
it; put the cloak in it; rub it thor
oughly with the hands until the flour
looks dark; then if the fur is not
white enough, rub it again with more
clean flour; then rub it with pulver
ized chalk. Thii# gives it a pearly
white look. It is also good to clean
knit nubias.
Scalloped Potatoes make a nice
dish for tea. Prepare in this propor
tion : Two cups of mashed potatoes,
two tabiespoonfuls of cream or milk
and one of melted butter; salt and
pepper to taste. Stir the potatoes,
butter and cream together, adding one
raw egg. If the patatoes seem too
moist, beat in a few fine bread crumbs,
Bake in a hot oven for ten minutes,
taking care to have the top a rich
brown.
Cold Roast Beef Broiled —Cut
slices about a quarter of an inch thick
from the undone part of the meat;
strew salt and pepper over it. and
place it ever the gridiron and heat it
very quickly ; turn it over four times
n as many minutes, and serve it up
on a hot dish in melted butter; it
must be put to broil when the dinnei
bell rings, and served the moment it is
to be eaten; it will then be found
very nice.
Hints on Knitting Stockings.—
\^hen knitting children’s stockings of
the German knitting yarn, or of other
heavy qualities of yarn, do not use too
large needles. Of course, you get
along much faster, and the stockings
will thicken somewhat when washed
for the first time, but they will not be
nearly so serviceable as if knit with
smaller needles, only a trifle larger
than those which you use in knitting
the cashmere yarns.
New Way of Serving Oatmeal.
—Take a dessert teaspoonful of oat
meal, place it, in the morning, in a
tumbler, and fill up with new milk ;
let it stand all day, and take it for
supper or for a night-cap. The grains
will have been softened by their long
soaking in the milk, and it can be
eaten with a spoon. This is said by
its advocates to be a specific against
neuralgia, and is also soundly recoin
mended for sedentary folks.
Time on a “Mixed” Train.
On some of the Western roads they
attach a passenger, car to a freight
train and call it “mixed.” It isn’t in
the order of things that such train,
should travel very rapidly, and some
times there is considerable growling
among the “traffic.” “Are we most
there, conductor?” asked a nervous
man for the hundredth time. “Re
member, my wife is sick and I’m
anxious.” “We’ll get there on time,
replied the conductor stolidly. Half
an hour later the nervous man ap
proached him again. “I guess she’s
dead, now,” said he, mournfully,
“but I’d give you a little something
extra if you oould manage to catoh up
with the fuueral. Maybe she won’t
be so decomposed but what I would
recognize her!” The conductor
growled at him and the man subsided.
* “Conductor,” said he, after an hour’s
silence, “Conductor, if the wind isn’t
dead ahead I wish you would put on
some steam. I’d like to see where my
wlfejaJitffcid before the tombstone is
ourself i;
my place for a moment.” Ti
due tor shook him ofl and the man re
lapsed into profound melancholy. “I
say, conductor,” said he, after a long
pause, “I’ve got a note comine due in
three months. Can’t you fix it so as
to rattle along a little?” “If you
come near me again. I’ll knock you
down,” snorted the conductor sav
agely. The nervous man regarded
him sadly and went to his seat. Two
hours later the conductor saw him
chattering gaily and laughing heart
ily with a brother victim, and ap
proached him. “Don’t feel so badly
about your wife’s death?” “Time
heals all wounds,” sighed the nervous
man. “And you are not so particular
about the note,” sneered the con
ductor. “Not now. That’s all right.
Don’t worry. I’ve been figuring up
and I find that the note has been out
lawed since 1 spoke to you last!”
Clips.
Old Sir Janr.e 5 * Herring was remon-
started with for not rising earlier. “I
can make up my mind to do it,” he
paid, “but cannot make up my body.”
Gentleman (calling at the house of
a friend): “Is your mispress in?”
Mary : “She is, sur.” Gentlemen :
“Is she engaged ?” “Faith, she’s
more than that—she’s married.”
“Is it inlurious to eat before going
to sleep?” asks a correspondent. Why
no ; not fatally injurious, but you just
try eating after you go to sleep, if you
want to see a circus.
‘•What are eggs this morning?”
“Eggs, of course,” says he humor
ously. “Well,” adds the customer,
“I am glad of it, for the last I bought
of you were chickens.”
Of all the sad experience in this
world deliver us from that of stepping
on the edge of a coal scuttle which
lies in wait at the foot of the back
stairs.
A visitor enters a French newspaper
office and is greeted politely by the
hfflee boy: “If monsieur comes to
fight a duel, he will have to be kind
enough to call again. All our editors
are already engaged for to-day.”
A Dublin professional man addressed
an artisan, who was waiting in his
hall, retb.er brusquely, “Halloa, you
fellow, do you want me ?” The an
swer was neat. “No, your honor, I
am waiting for a gentleman.”
A pretentious person said to the
leading man of the village: “How
would a lecture by me on Mount
Vesuvius suit the inhabitants ef your
village?” “Very well, sir; very well,
sir; very well indeed,” he answered,
“A lecture by you on Mount Vesu
vius would suit them a great deal bet
ter than a lecture in this village, sir.”
Practical suggestion: When a
man is excited he is veiy apt to talk
without thinking. An Austin land-
lcrd called on his tenant the tenth
time for the rent. “I haven’t got
an money,” was the response
“Well, if you haven’t got money
enough to pay rent you ought to build
2 ourself a house.”
“You have been here before me
half a drz9n time-* this year,” said
an Austin Justice, severely, to a local
vagrant, who thus made answer
“Comef no, judge, none of that. Ev
ery time I’ue been here I’ve seen you
here, You are here more than I am.
People who live in glass houses
should not throw stones.”
“I believe you are a fool, John,”
testily exclaimed Mrs. Miggs as her
husband unwitting'y presented her
the hot end of a potato dish, which
she promptly dropped and broke.
“Yes,” he added, resignedly, “that’s
what the oleik told me when I went
to take out my marriage license.”
“So your business is ploking up,
eh?” faoetious cobbler to a rag picker
who had just commenced operations
on an ash barrel in front of his shop
door. “Yes, and I see yours is mend
ing, ” quickly replied the ragged
urchin, glanoing at the dilapidated
boot in the cobbler’s hand.
Two Hounds Kill and Eat a
Horse.
Two large hounds belonging to a
negro living near New Orleans attack
ed a horse that had been turned out to
graze. After seizing and throwing
him down they satisfied their rapa
cious appetites by eating their fill
of his living carcass. They are
almost wild, and have been discov
ered devouring the oarcasses of hogs
they had killed in the forest.
A three-year old girl, while her.
mother was trying to get her to sleepj
became interested in the outside noij
When she was told it was a crloj
ik he ougl
Iny’s S iven-Minute
ture on Patience.
Johnny was seven years old a
brother Willie almost five. Jo
took his stand on a stool, with
sewing-niachiDe in front of him
pulpit, and with Willie sitting i
huge chair on the other side of
room for his congregation.
When all wsks ready, and Willie
got through fussing with the r*
his sore finger, Johnny began bis
mon by saying:
“I will make a few brief rem
on-to a short text—Be patient,
ly, be pal lent to everybody.
“Must I let all what’s bigger’n
push me ’round jest’s tney’s mind to
“It isn’t proper to talk in meeting,
replied Johnny, “because it distur
tne services. But papa and ma~
are bigger than you; and they d
push you around either. They o
put you cut where you don’t bel
to. And Maggie—she’s bigger t
you ; and she can’t have a little
head between her and the bread-bo-
when she’s mixing bread, and betwee
her and tL e kettle when she’s frying
doughnuts, and between her and—”
“I ain’t a tow-head,” chimed in
Willie. “My hair’s just as black as—
as—”
“As flax,” suggested Johnny.
“Yes, sir-ee, jest as black as flai
repeated Willie in a tone of triui
“And then,” continued Join
there’s me that’s bigger than
But I don’t push you around,thof
“Preachers i ught to tell the
exclaimed Willie with a sharp
the speaker.
“Well!—let’s leave that po]
pass on to the next.
“Secondly: Be patient every ^
“When I burn my fingersjnuJ
holler?” exclaimed Willie.
“Of course when you
fingers you may holler
when mamma gets the rag^
tie it up you mustn’t jerk it ai
scream so as to raise the neif
And when you play with
Dickson you mustn’t get
cause he can run faster thj
And when you want to con e
house you mustn’t kick the dl
scream—‘Let mein, why don]
And when dinner isn’t ’me
you mustn’t—”
“Dear me,” broke
this sermon almost out
“Thirdly; Be patiei
“When you getlat^
and your breakftj
you didn’t
called; and^
button hook
the moroing-gi^l
more shall I say ^
“Say amen,”
Just then t|
and pusf y
room. Willie
puss up in his a]
find his mamma,
went, “I can be pi
and patient everj
always—’cept wl
you naughty klj
preachegtiL&wi
Accident
A man should marl
yet I am convinced the 1
marriages are unhappy,^
not an opinion I give as oo]
myself; it is that of a veij
agreeable and sensible
married the man of her
has not encountered os tel
serious misfortune, as a loss
riches, ohildren, etc. She I
this unreservedly, and I ne
any reason to doubt her
For all this, I am convinced]
man oannot be truly happy
wife. It is a strange state of tET
we live In. A tendenoy so natural
that of the union of the sexes ought 1
lead only to the most harmonloi
results; yet the reverse is the fac
There is certainly something radical
wrong in the constitution of societ
the times are out of joint,
strange, too, what little real it
of choice is exeroised by thosi 1
who do marry jgrarding to
thought to be jJ^|own inolij
The deoeptloj
play ofl ujj
many y
of