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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