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IOW WON- [This is the ladies’ column. They are invited to express their opinions herein—to use it as their own. The editress will answer questions or accept sug gestions with pleasure.] Christmas.— [WRITTEN FOB THE KINGDOM.) "God’s will to man and pca?e on earth On this the day of Jesus bit th.” Iu the long ago on a golden morn A Saviour to the world was born, In the humble manger the Christ-Child lay The world's Redeemer—on alel of hay. The wise men cem > from out of the East, The star stood o’er the kneeling beast, Frankincense and inyroh with them they brought A precious offering to the child they sought. Hallelujah 1 let men rejoice And sing His praise with gladsome voice— Hrs birthday comes, His natal day This remember now, and alway— " Good will to men and peace on earth, On this the day of Jcsns’ birth.” Forest Home, S. C. Annie C. Dean. o Christmas Greeting! The joyous season of the holidayshave again rolled around. Wo ask, “Is it possible another year has passed ?” Time flies faster and faster as the years go by> and our Christmas greet ings seem to come nearer and nearer together. It is a season fraught witli various emotions; pleasure, sadness, desires and anticipations mingle together. The celebration of Christmas should bring nothing but pleasure; true there are many households that are shadowed with gloom; many a home where last year a merry light-hearted child made sunshine, is darken ed, because the sunshine has given place to gloom, for the little one has gone hence for ever. But there are ether little ones left; make their hearts happy even tho’ your own are breaking. Our desires often mar our hap piness at this merry-making time. We wish we could do so much more than we are able, and often comes a feeling of discontent that we can give so little. The making of Christmas gifts often proves a burden I it should not be so; if wo are not able to do much, do what we can. t heard a good woman say, “I always make out a list of those I wish to make gifts, I put the amount of the gift opposite each name, and in this way I manage to come within my means, and have something for one or two on the list who are poor and have no expecta tions.’’ This is a good rule; the class who have no gifts to expect are much larger than those who have. We often hesitate to give, because it is so litte; it takes very little to bring joy and happiness to the poor, and it is this class that appreciate our gifts most highly. But it is bright joyous expectations of child hood that makes Christmas a time of merry making and hilarity. It is so pleasant to hear their plans discussed and see their faces brighten with expectation. How many a child has lain awake at night trying to make twenty five cents do the duty of fifty cents. One bright little five year old neighbor of mine came running to his mother the other morn ing (who was going down town) with his Christmas money (thirty-five cents) to be in vested. He said: "Now .yen are to get some for papa, big sister, little sister and yourself. I don’t care wbat you get, but get papa a dozen handkerchiefs, a box of cigars, and then get you all something.” Dear child, thirty-five cents looked large enough to do anything with, for his heart was filled with “good will,” and that is the true secret of happiness. Through all the ages that have passed since the star of Bethlehem guided by its light the wise men to the birth place of Christ, the song of the Heavenly host has echoed and re-echoed in tho hearts of men, “peace on earth and good will toward man.” It is truly a time when the heart overflows with “good will” to all; it is not our pleasure but the pleasure of some one else we seek, thereby enhancing our own. May the heavenly light that was a beacon to those of old radiate tiie hearts of all our readers, and the song of the host, “peace on earth and good will towards men,” find a re sponsive chord in every bosom. We send a -greeting to each and all of our read.ers. May ft be a “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year” to our entire Kingdom. o Home-Made French Candy. Nothing gives children so much pleasure as to “make candy,” and nothing gives mothers much more trouble than the old fashion slick "candy pullings,” so we propose to have tho children enjoy a candy making that is attend ed by no mess or trouble, and one in which the grown folks will also be interested. First pre pare your fruits and nuts; get hazel nuts, al monds and English walnuts, the latter try and open so as not to break them, but halve neatly; the other nuts are easily gotten out whole. For fruits, get dates and dried figs; open the dates and remove the stones and open the figs; when this is done and your nuts and fruit is all placed on dishes convenient, you are ready to make your candy. Take a pound of pul verized sugar; it you live where you can get What is called confectioner’s sugar, it is better, but the other will answer; put your sugar on your biscuit board and roll and then sift; break the white of an egg in a goblet, put the exact quantity of rich cream that tho white of your egg is, boat the white of your egg to a stiff froth, then add tho cream, then flavor with Vanilla, then add the sugar, slowly until it gels Stiff enough to put on your board and work as you would biscuit dough: sprinkle a little extra sugar on the board to keep from sticking, then toll out as thin as pie crust and cut in strips; each person can then take a strip and go to Work; roll the almond in the paste, fill the fruit and place a thin piece between each wal nut, placing them as you finish on dishes or sheets of white paper and set them in a cool place. Be careful not to mould the paste too heavily around the smaller nuts. You nan still have a greater variety by having Oranges and white grapes; take each plug of ♦he orange and cover only one-half, having the Other side show the yellow, cover each grape lightly with the paste. Grated cocoanut mixed with a little of the paste and formed in to little eggs are nice. Small balls of paste dipped in melted “bakers chocolate” will give you delightful “cream chocolate.” Thus you will have a variety of the nicest candies and will be astonished to see how far a pound of each article will go, and the expense is not half of what a pound of “French candy” would cost you. These candies can bo used in an hour after finished. We have given special care to the recipes sent for Christmas; they are all of the best; we have purposely left out fruit cake and plum pudding, as every one has * recipe for these, but have given only new and tried recipes for the holidays. ——o The Sewing Machine I’uled Out, From the New York Tribune. Ko carefull housekeeper now allows a machine hem on her table—linen, bed-linen or undercloth ing. The sewing machine is responsible for much of the suffering of poor seamstresses who are com pelled to put 2CO tucks or puffing and tucking a yard deep on a single garment made ot cheap cotton, for a variety of vulgar persons, including smart ladies’maids or corks, who are anxious that their mistresses shall see liow much they can otr dothem, and vho sneer at the simple laced-edged or em broidered clothing included in their mistresses’ laundry, as though they were in keeping with the miserly management wl : h had ordered the rem nants of r<*.t-t b of, “only enough for the cat,” to be made into croquette. If a relined country girl Could follow ih■ j-ur'-haserx of overtrimmed clothes to their home. tlr-y would never :'.ttempt to make elaborate underclothes, but would avoid garments. With to. 1 tucks -- t 'i- ;. ... old do the ins.quia of a bellet-dnneer. W.. so uk of country girls because Bo woman ofrehi. taut inti.e -,'e cites would buy the '.m ks a . 1 . : y-..id at starvation rates in the city rho A great many v. men •vet praei.ee of “home made” underclothes. Ike stick lug un these clothes is dune by machine. The THE WEEKLY COKSTITLTIGN, ATLANTA, GA., TUESDAY. DECEMBER 20. 188 7 hems and fella are handwork. If lace is used as J mis always put on by overcast stitch ins finest clothing is trimmed simply with a group o tucks, which may be half-inch, or finer, as the maker fancies, a narrow frill of lace or embroidery and a few lines of dainty feather stitching done with the needle. “Pride of the West’’ muslins, per and nainsooks are the materials generally used. A great many ladies this sea-on are making up sets of underclothes of fine white flannel, all o', but ot light weight, embroidering the edges of t ic garments in simple scallops and not with ('Lina floss. K iitting unlerve-ts of Saxony yarn isb?- i coming a- fashi- naLle fancy work. Ladies oi luxuri- ■ ous tius.e somet.me.-y knit the.-e vests of pure white i snks, avoiding as “loud” any tint of color. Infants’ ; clothing should be made by the needle. The seams are the only part of baby garments where machine sewing is allowable. A Photograph Holder. If you do not like to see the photographs of your mt o Christmas Recipes. Dolly Varden Cake.—Make five layers of cake by any nice jelly cake recipe, and put them together with different “fillings” between. For the first use choco ate; the second, lemon cream; the third, grated cocoanut; and the fourth, a soft icing filled with nuts and raisins; then ice the entire cake. Banbury Cakes.—These are delicious and are a most excellent substitute for mince pies. Stone and chop one cupful of raisins, a piece of citron the size of the round bottom of a coffee cup, add one egg, one cup of sugar, the juice and pulp and part of the grated peel of a lemon; mix thoroughly. Make a crust exactly like pie-crust, rcll it, and cut out little circles the size of a small saucer; upon this drop a spoonful of the mixture, wet the crust with water, then fold it up and press the edges together; make it look like a little “turn-over,” only it must not have even a tiny outlet for the juice; use a little flour on your fingers, if need be, to Keep the edges together. Put them when, all folded into a dripping-pan or baking plate, closely side by side, then rub them over evenly with milk in which a little sugar is dis solved; to a large tablespoonful of milk add a small te.spoonful of sugar. Bake a light brown. Ice Cream Cake.—Two cups white sugar, one cup butter, whites of eight eggs, % cup of sweet milk, three cups flour, two tcaspoonfuls Royal Baking Powder. Mix butter and sugar together, then add the eggs well beaten, next the milk, and lastly the flour and powder mixed together. Flavor to suit the taste, beating the mixtures well. Lobster Patties.—Line pattypans with puff paste or pie crust made short; put a piece a dry bread in eac.n; cover with the top crust, brush lightly with white of egg and bake. Mince the lobster very fine, add a little lemon juice, Cayenne pepper and salt, moisten with a few s-p oonfuls of whltesar.ee, to which has been added a little gravy. let this sim mer gently for five minutes; theu after removing the top and taking out the bread, fill the patty cases with the lobster, replace the covets, and send” to the table hot. Little Pigs in Blankets.—To garnish the roast turkey, cut some very thin slices of English break fast bacon, upon etch lay an oyster which has been wiped dry and seasoned, then fold the bacon over it and fasten it with tiny skewers of wood, two through each slice; just ten minutes before the turkey is to go to the table, fry these “little pigs” until they are delicately brown and place on the platter around the turkey. Orange Cream.—Soak a one ounce packet of gela tine, and add it to one pint of milk in which six ounces of lump sugar has been dissolve 1. Adda little lemon peel, and boil all together for ten minutes. Strain the milk and add to it half a pint of orange Juice and the juice of one tin.ill lemon. Stir well, and pour into a mold till set. Orange Sponge.—Oranges are not only excellent at breakfast (which is the best time to eat them) but should be oftener served at dessert—as puddings, jellies, short cake, etc., than they arc. A very nice dish Is made as follows: Squeeze out the juice and pulp of three oranges into a bowl. Add the juice of hall a lemon, three ounces of sugar, one and a half pint of cold water; let it come to a bail and then strain. Dissolve two tablespoonfuls of corn starch in a little cold water, rub it smooth and add to it the strained juices; let it boil fifteen minutes to cook the corn starch. Then set it aside and when cold set it in the ico box to become quite cold. Beat up the whites of three eggs to a foam, whip it into the corn starch and it is ready lor use. It maybe served in tart shells or fancy cases. Orange Charlotte (Mrs. Lincoln.)—One-third box of gelatine, V- cup of cold water, % cup boiling water, one cup sugar, juice of one lemon, one cup of orange juice and pulp, three eggs (whites only.) Line a mould or bold with lady fingers or sections of oranges. Soak the gelatine in cold water till soft. Four on the boiling water. Add the sugar and the lemon juice. Strain and add the orange juice and pulp with a little of t'ie grated rind. Cool in a pan of ice water. Heat the whites of the eggs stiff and when the orange jelly begins to harden, beat it till light. Add the beaten whites, and beat together till stiff enough to drop. Pour into the mould. One pint of whipped cream may be used instead of the whites of the eggs, or it may be piled on the top after the charlotte is removed from the mould. Apple Charlotte.—One cup of cooked sour apples (steamed, drained and sifted) may be used in place of orange in the preceding receipt. Line the mould with lady fingers or sponge cake, and Serve a boiled custard made with tho yolks of the eggs, as a sauce, or use one cup of canued peach, pine-apple or apri cot, or one pint of fresh strawberries or raspberries. Mosh and rub the fruit through a seive before using. o Christinas Hints. An old lady writing to the “Helping Hand” of the Philadelphia I’ress gives some useful suggestions for presents. She says: I have been given a pretty little cushion for darn ing tape, worsted, and button needles, and I find it so handy in my work-basket I thought I’d tell others how to make it. Take six pieces ot common dress braid of contrasting colors, and about six inches in length. Leave nearly an inch at each end. Sew five seams lengthwise, turn and work with bright-colored floss in feather or cross stitch, ravel each end, sew the last scam, turn and work. Run a string dose to the raveling at ono end and tie. Fill it with curled hair, but don’t crowd tie cushion full. Run a string in the end, draw up and tie. Finish by tying the narrowest scarlet, bln ior puik ribbon over the draw strings, making two tiny bows and short ends. I've made nearly a dozen to giveaway be.ge l some small pieecs fromadreM maker, an 1 bought a stick of scarlet braid, to you see it c sis little to make the cushions. Another tn xpensi-.e thiug Is a plaque for a mantle omam mt In a chamber. Take a piece of still box bon rd, nine Inches long and five inches wide, and a sheet of ilstie i«pcr ill.ti.t brovn lathe | prettiest color), dou 1. the paper, an 1 crinkle It by I pulling It tl.r the Lun is ic i ■ r ftean minutes, | catch It v. .lift id on tho bamt of the board, draw- 1 Ing it lightly to keei.lt crinkled. Paste white paper ; on the baek, and on the front an emlo red picture I of the head and ..cullers of a young girl, a basket I of limiers, or any i retty picture. I shall make • '.•.••rd “.Iress up” aprons for those who have little lime to do things for tbei voter. It takes b t two ya -Is of 1. lit print, vid one and , three quart* .» of tore.* m lace for ihc bottom ot the , apron. They cost very little, and are sure to please, Tho six-months-old baby will enjoy playing with a large ball filled with cotton wool, inside of which is a small tin box with buttons to rattle, and a short piece of broad elastic which he can handle easily and bob up and down. I have covered several small boxes with bright pa, er and emb.is c 1 pictures. which 1 shall till \\ ilh candy and nuts for my grandsons, from eight to ten years of age. I have also cut outmiroccopen wipers, heart-si a id, and shall buttor.h ’e them I with silk outside, placing a small picture on each . side, cutting the inside leaves hi points. Several i other tilings I shr.'l make for eb.iblrcn, such nsrnb | bits, dogs, elephants and mice, made of cotton flannel aud well stuffed.—Mrs. C. G. Furbish, Eliots Maine, Arsenical Teeth. A correspondent of the Pt. Louis Globe Democrat writes: “I have rend a gre :t deal in the papers about slow poisoning processes, but only believed the various statements when they were brought home to me. My wife, who bail been remarkable for her rugged health and rosy appearance, began to fade away. She dwindled to a mere shadow, and yet she reiterated statements of go id hea’th. Finally, I insisted on calling in a doctor of high standing, after an emphatic protest from ourregular physician. A long diagnosis deci led licit my wife was suffering from arsenical poisoning drawn into the system from a cheap set of false tecta, which had been purchased about a week before the first symptoms of weakness had bet n observed. Arsenic had been used in the enamel to secure the glittering whiteness so much admired by women, and in the process of mastication small pat ticles had been ab sorbed In the food and taken into the stomach, where the insidious work of destruction was pro gressing surely to a fat .1 termination. Correspondence. Mrs. P. Moore, Morton, Miss.—Fie .sc say to my many c; r espondents on the subject of home, that I have secured a young lady to live with me. Would write to them all, but the yare too numerous. How ever, I will do all I can to procure a home for some, or all of them. Those who wishes some oue Will please enclose stamp for reply. Mrs. E. C. Roberts, Tallassee, Ala.—May I come in to ask the sisters if any of them know the address of Mrs. E. C. Trout. When I last heard from her site was at Bulcher, Texas. She was a dear old lady i n I great friend of mine, and I would bo so glad to hear from her again. If some one will send me her ad dress I will send them some pretty patterns for knit or crochet trimming or directions for knitting baby saeque, shirt or boot. Annie Jones, 3907 South street, Meridian, Miss. Will some of the sisters please give me the address of the lady who, I believe, lived in Alabama and understood cutting and fitting by measure, and taught it by mail; also sold a chart, (which she in vented herself) very cheap. Address me as above. “M. C. G.,” Union Point, Ga.—As it is the time of year to be putting up meats of different kinds for winter, I would like to give the sisters a receipt for pickled beef. Take one hundred pounds of beet, add four quarts of salt, four ounces of saltpetre and four pounds of brown sugar, well mixed and rubbed on; no water must be used. Tie up closely; it will be ready for use in ten days. This is a most excel lent recipe, and I hope some of the sistcraw try it. Sallie Mast, Melrose, Texas—l noticed in last week’s paper a request for the address of Willett Cornwell. It is 1229 Wabash avenue, Chicago, 111. I use-his eliart and think it excellent. I was in At lanta dining the. fair and intended to visit ThkCon stitution and try to see Aunt Susie any way, but missed it. I nearly always read the little ones’ as I am a teacher and like to know how they are getting along. We have two copies of your paper in our family, so you may know how much it is appreci ated. Mattie E. Gurr, Blakely, Ga.—l think The Con stitution is the very best of pay ers. lam very fond of crocheting, and would be very glad if the sisters will send me some samples. I crocheted a child’s dress entirely, w hlch took the premium at the fair; there was eighteen spools of No. 50 spool cotton in it. I also enjoy the children’s department very much; [lope Aunt Susie will cvntinuo tu-w«ito h«v instructive letters to the children. lama member of the M. E. church at this place; we have a nice little church with something over ono hundred members. I think the ninth page of The Consti tution is the brightest page of the paper. Lizzie G. Edwards, Salem, Ala.—l have long teen an admit er of The Constitution; it affords me more pleasure than any other p iper. I send ono dollar and want my name to go in the Christmas box, with a of getting a premium, and if I do not, I will have one of the best papers in the world. My husband died in ’BO, and I have lived a very seclud ed life ever since. I generally turn to the Woman’s Kingdom first and read everything in il. I had an aunt by the name of Susie, whom I looked upon as a perfect characted and that with my fondues»for your writings, has endeared you tome. To show my appreciation, I have made a couple of squares for your quilt, with names worked in; yours is designed for the center; if they are not too late ami think them appropriate, please accept them. Note—The squares are very pretty; accept thanks, Mr?. W. P.. Dalton. Ga.—Tho’ I have been silent so long, I have not 1< st interc t in Woman’s King dom; but have read it weekly and derived much comfort from the sympathetic letters of the sisters. When we pick up a paper and read of accident and hoirid things that happen far away, we shudder and say, oh.! how sad.' and it is soon for gotten; but we never know the mis ry, the gloom, the nttcr desolation of such until they come home to us. When the light goes out ol our lives and lurid clouds lurng over us, brought on by sudden grief, then, we begin to realize what other.; suffer. 1 had a dear sister, with two little girls; she was a widow; they left their home in the hot city by my special invitation to come and spend the summer months with me in our pleasant village. They had be» n with us just one week, when oue pleasant morning, the 12th of July, my daughter came in looking so cheerful and happy, audsiid, “Aunt Lou. lets take a walk.” They went! I never saw my sister again! In one hour she wasjerushedto death under the piti less wheels of the morning passenger train, Lear friends, just imagine for one moment what I had to bear. Ohl no, I did not bear it; the hand that dealt the blow support jd me. I never could l ave borne it alone. Two little orphans clinging to me scream ing, and my daughter like a raving maniac. I have often felt like I would like to communicate with the kind editress and sisters of the Kingdom and open my sad heart to them: and after reading your kind inquiries about our long silence, I felt prompted by some sudden impulse, to let you hear from me. Christmas will soon be here; many homes will be made bright and cheerrul by fam Jy re unions and happy gatherings; but in ours there will be a vacant chair, for since her husband died In Florida nine years ago, she hes spent her Christmas holidays with us. But I do not sorrow, as those that have no hope. She was a Christian: her work here was finished, and God said, “Come up higher.” Among my lighter troubles, 1 have had the trial o moving, and you all that have experience in that line, know what it is. 1 hope those of the Kingdom that have long been silent, will let us hear from them, and that our column may prove a source of comfort, instruction and edification, as it has al ready done to many. Many thanks for the dear, good letters from your pen during the past year, and a happy Christmas and bright New Year to you and all the sisters. Donning Iler Bridal Clothes in Public. A remarkably strange scene was enacted at the depot opposite the brnadgauge ticket window yes terday. A party of Italians, consisting of four women, one of whom was a pretty young woman ol 20 years, bad come off the tx/at. It was a wedding party, or rati er the damsel had come from the country to mutt her lover and be married. Dusty and travel stained us she was she could not possibly j meet her intended husband. Accordingly the party slipped out of the stream pouring from the ferry, and | gathering against the bull-head the young lady ' commenced to divest herself of her clothing. Re gardless of the crowd wh ch soon collected she proceeded to strip herself until she was Handing in a state of Eve-like simplicity. Thea she com menced to don her wedding trousseau. This was ! soon accomplished, and when the young woman i : found herself completely arrayed for her nupLuis i ! she walked off with he r party through the laughing | • crowd, unmindful both of the laughter she excited I j or that she had done anything immodest or inde- ' j cent, the wai, indeed, an exemplification of tho * saying, “Where ignorance is bliss lia fully to bo ! i" L :" . - Every vice has a cloak. Consumption creeps in under tire cloak of a hard coid. The I virtue Is Warner’s Log Cabin Cough and Con sumption Iteniody will drive out the vicious ■ I oue and bring in health. 50c and &J. relatives and friends standing I on the mantel piece or lying on a talle and yet do not wish to consign them to the oblivion of the photograph album, make a holder like the illustration, which is from the Rural New kiYorker. Tho r foundation is of cardboa: d. The Covering, which is divided into sections or pock ets, may be of one kind of goods, or each section of a dif ferent sort. Braid, embroi der or paint the sections as fancy dictates. The whole is sur rounded with a silken cord, twisted at top in to a trefoil which serves as a loop to sus gend it from tt ook. [foil THE YOUNG FOLKS. Fun for t!w Children—The Constitution Training School for I’oys and Girls. “The f'hrL(-Child.” “O blessed Christ-Child, ou this clay, First b.? our gifts to Thee: And second in our hearts and thougnts i.et friends and kindred be. Ou every tree, weighed down with gifts, That tenderest meiuor.es wake, Oil I may the choicest and the best Be iiuiig' for Tny dear sake 1 And be Thou at each festive board Most honored guest today ; And by each happy hearth stone may Thy sacred presence stay 1” F. 11. Mark. o Dear Children : Another Christmas will soon be here and 1 know you are all thinking of the good times you are going to have. I sincerely hope your anticipations may be real ized. I send you a Christinas story; it is ono of “Louise Alcott’s,” anti she writes such fine sweet stories that I have selected it on that ac count, 1 thought as it was Christmas we must have something different from every week, so instead of letters give yon a story, which I hope you will enjoy. But I have read all tho letters received and thank those who sent nickels and quilt squares. Those whose letters do not appear must write again. I will write to yon after Christmas and toll you if “Santa Claus” brings nto anything. Wishing you every one a “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,” lam yours lovingly, “Aunt Susie.” o “LITTLE ROBIN.” [FROM HARPER'S YOUNG FOLKS.] No one called her that till after the Christmas I am going t > tell about; and when you have road H o story you will see wl at a good name it was for her. Bess was twelve years old—a ro y, bright eyed little girl, who did errands for all the old ladles who lived in the village. There were a good many of them—nice, kind old souls, very busy about their small affairs, very sociable, and very, good to the poor; so they were glad to make Bess melr messen ger, and pay her for doing their errands. She lived with her grandmother, and liked to earn money, for they were poor, and the old woman tvos getting more feeble every year. But Bess was strong and well, and such n wise, steady child, tiie fussiest old lady could trust her to match wools, carry parcels, or deliver messages without a mistake. Every morniug, when all was neat in the little house, and grandma settled comfortably at her knitting, Bess with her big satchel on her arm, would trot from door to door to get her orders, and then go on to tiie middle of the town for the letters aud the various things the old ladies wante 1. In this way she earned a good deal, not always in money, but in good warm clothes for grandma, and help about the wood and rent. Eaelt old lady did what she could, for none were rich; but among them Bess fared well, and was a happy, useful child, be loved by all for her cheerful face, pretty manners, and faithfulness in everything. One Christmas Eve she was thinking how wel they were getting on as she trudged up the long hill with a basket of pies from Miss PatnlertoTierTtieiid Mrs. Baker, Tiie sun was setting splendidly, but the wind was very sharp, and n bitter cold night was coming on, with a moon by and by to ligut tho merry sleighing parties. At the minister’s gate stood two pretty little children resting after a coast down the bank about three feet high. They were hopplug up and down to warm their toes, and chat tering like magpies, though their little noses were red, and they ought to have been safe in the house at that hour. But the mother was busy trimming the church, and nurse gossiping in the kitchen, so little Arty and Min got into trouble, as we shall see. “Joe sa d the Christmas trees camo from those woods, and I saw him bring lots on his sled. Bo if we ur> UU we can get a dear little ono for Hio d >H«, and drag it home on my sled,” said the little boy, full of tho new Idea, and longing for a good run in the smooth road, where bells had been jingling gay ly all day as sleighs flew to and fro. “It’s pretty Far; would mama like it ?” asked tho small girl, eager to surprise her family of dolls with a fine tree, but remembering certain promises about leaving tiie garden. “She wouldn’t mind; and we’ll get a ride on the first sleigh that comes along. Tuck upon iny sled, and be ready. I’ll hang on and drug yo:i; then we’ll go quick, and not boa bit tired,” answered Arty, looking anxiously for a horse’s head to come round tho corner, Bess camo tortead, and nodded to them as she pa s -fl. ‘’Time logo in-doors. Hun or Jaek Frost will u.p your noses,” she said, wondering to see ih -in tIK-ro so laic. “We ain’t airaid. Wo are going to see where Christmas trees grow, and get one for our dollies,” 0 died the children, waving fhclr red mittens. Bess never stopped to talk when doing errands, so she hurried on, and left, (he children waiting for a ride. Before long a sleigh passed with an old man in it, and Arty hung on unobserved, while little Min bumped along on the yellow sled behind. The horse went fast, and soon tiie runaways were far away on the 111 top. But It was such fun to skim along with jingling bells, to s.:e the trees (ly by, to feel that no one knew where they were, and that tins would be a fine adventure to (ell when they got home, that they kept on till the old man discovered them, and ordered them off at once. “Here’s a nice road; an 1 o.er there, seems to mo, I see lots of Christmas trees all shining bright," said Arty, as lie dragged Ids sister into the wood along the path made by Hie sleds ol the lumbermen. “Do they grow with candles on ’em?” asked Min. “I shouldn’t be s’prised if they did. Ours always Ims candles, and motl or ties on Hie presents, A'.y wuy, wo cun play tins is a fairy wood ami every thing is splendid. Notv you get off, ami we'll run down that nice little path and see if that pretty red lu a fire or tiie sky. I guess these tre.-s are too l,:g for us: we must get a little one and pull it up,” di rected Arty, fell np- much elated with hismlven turn, and bent on exploring the forest, which Jo iked prartlcularly attractive just then, with the green boughs powdered with snow. So the innocent little souls went scrambling deeper and deeper among the pines toward tho grove of small tr res, playing they saw giants and fairies by the way. It was warmer in the wood; a squirrel cam? Ui welcome them, an owl flew by with its soft cry as ff trying to be agreeable, ami they talked, and snowballed, ami pulled up a dozen little trees before they found ono that suite*! them. Meantime the pretty light faded away, and they realized how fur from home they were. “My boots arc ho tired I can't go any more; please pull me on tiie sled, Arty, ’ said Min, quite used up and rather Hoared by the shadoM-s that began to fill the corners of tiie wood. “I left tho sled somewhere, ’cause the runner broke. I guess we won’t try to find It, but run right borne. It’s pretty late, and I’rn awfully hungry; ain’t you?” "Yes,” answered Arty, trudging stoutly away in what he fancied was the right direc tion. "Yes, and 1 want to see mamma,” said Min, with, a quaver In her voice suggestive of tears. “Now, don’t you be a baby. If you fret and cry, I'll never take yoi on a nice tramp again. Take hold of me and come along, and in a minute we ll find the road, and run light home.” Arty spoke bravely, but his heart began to fail him, for no path apjaared, and the winter twilight was darkening fast. His Utile conscience told him lie had done wrong to go so far, and every moment he grew more and n.oie sure that they were lost. Poor Min struggled along in tiie big rubber boot* that burdened her short legs, and after tumbling in to holes, slipping off Icy ‘tones, and wading through I drifts for what seemed hours to her weary little feet, she suddenly ttopjx d short, and sobbed out: “Oh, we’re lost! and never can find mamma I again! I'm so cold and tired and hungry, I can't go any more. Please let rne rest, Arty, und find iny banchlf.” “1 et's both sit down and see about It. Here's a nice log for you. Ixin’t cry, dear. 11l find the way ! s* m l ow. If I’d known we were going to be lost, | I’d have* had lots of pebbles In my pxickct, like ilop | o’ my thumb, then we'd be all right. It is pretty coll. Wonder how hunters make afire when they I haven't any matoheS? Seems ns If I read alxiut rub- I bmg two sileks. You restand see me do It, Min; I tl.cn we’ll be nice and warm with a fire, aud wolves 1 and bears won't dure to touch us If we stay all Huch a dreadful idea dismayed poor Mln, and she I cried aloud, while Arty vainly ruble I two gieen I twigs till his fingers were nearly frozen. This dis ; appointment und his sister’s dismal walling, us well ■ ns the darkness gathering alxmt them, uj«ei the ; | boy, and altei amanlul struggle to keep buck the | tears, he began to cry also, while the little owl hooted mournftilly, and tho cold wind sighed among the pines. n wasa sad Sight, tho two shivering, sobbing little shm l ,"/? 8 nU “ ,one in *'>« wintry woods, when they should have bo. n safe aud warm at home. But no one saw it except tho evening star, which peeped them 8 * 1 Ule boUßhs like 11 t> ri s ht °i’ e watching over y 1 * 1 ' 1 ! all tho (ears tvero shed, and both were too •r/'V'!'" 1 !lrcd to cry any more, Arty took heart, and 'Cd to carry nlssister on bis back toward an open kn 1° 1110111,0 fondly hoped was the path. A tad “* i into a deop hollow chilled his courage, and after btl, ’ggling on a little longer ho gave up and sat down again in despair. 'lin so sleepy! Let’s say ‘Now I lay me,’ and go to bvlow,” said Min, with a sob and a gape, as her bead tell on Arty’s shoulder, top-heavy with wean for it was lung past her bedtime. < oine under this tree, where there isn’t nny snnw, mm we’ll cuddle down and try to be warm, father conics to And u«, I’ll take care of you, dorr, j ain’t afraid of the dark—much.” spoke, Arty drew tho poor little girl und w *he wide-spreading boughs of a hemlock, and put ung his arms about her, tried not to tremble and start nt every sound, or to stare into the gloom with wldo eyes frill of fear. Min was asleep in a moment, an I after a few more penitent tears, Arty droppe l also, just as he had resolved to watch all night. So there they lay, i sleep in the wood, where the bitter dd would soon freeze them if no one came to find and save them. But the old tree sheltered them well, the kind star watched over them, and the little owl skimmed softly away to bring a friend of whom they never thought. Mrs. Baker kept Bess some time, asking about nil the nows of the village, and when she went, tilled her basket with cookies, and gave her a little can of milk for her grandmother. “I’m afraid I’ve kept you too long, dear, it grows dark so sudden n nvadays. Do take my Inn’ern, so you won’t r-Up and spill tho milk. Put the can in the basket, then it will ride stiddy, and you’ll have a hand free for tho lantern,” said the old lady, peer ing out into the dusk. Bess did not want tho light, as she was used to running over the snow, but to oblige Mrs. Baker she accepted it, an i set out for homo. Just as she loft the gate a little dark object on tho white road caught her eye farther up the hill, and she went to see what it was, thinking it might be tho full purse poor 11:tic girls were always finding in the stories she read. No, it was only a little red mitten; but Bess looked troubled as she t urned it over, so ’ on the back was a white M., and she knew it was ono of the pair grandma had knit for little Minnie. “I do believe those naughty babies really did go after a tree. I thought they were only playing. Wbat a fright their folks will be in at home if they did run away! Yes, hero is the mark of a sled. I’ll run up the hill, and BO ' if they did go this way.” Oil' went Bess, and soon another little mitten told hot she was on tho track of tho runaways, for Miu had been so busy holding on she lost her mittens without knowing it. The marks of runners and two s nail pairs of feet wore plainly seen in the snow where the children turned into the woods, and Bess f dlowed the trail, calling as she went, sure that the little things could not have gone far. Now she was glad of the lantern, for by Its light she could see where tho wanderers went, and presently the abandoned sled made her more anxious than over, for it was evident the children had gone toward a pond near by. Bess was out of breath, cold, and frightened, but she pressed on, thinking only of the lost babies and their poor mother, for she knew that if the children were out long ou such a bitter night i I might cost them thoir lives. Soo h the little ■Steps’ turned 111 A suftH* OL ecuvii, and Bess was so glad that she had not got to look f< r them in that dreadful pond that .she cheered up, and ran, and looked, and called, till a faint, far-off cry made her heart beat fast as she hurried toward tho sound. A soft, sad wall it seemed, and tears came to her eyes while she paused to listen from time, to time, thinking of tho dear babies calling for l.Oip, alone in the great wood. “I’m coming, Arty; here’s Bess, don’t cry, little Min,” she shouted, scrambling over logs and through the bushes as tho wail grew louder and louder, till she came to an open spot, and found nothing but a small owl perched on a bare tree blinking at her light. Much disappointed and quite exhausted, she sat down to rest, putting tho lantern on the ground be side her. Then the good light did its part, for it shone under the hemlock boughs on a little black heap, out of which stuck four small rubber boots, plainly seen against tho snow. Boss saw them, gave a cry of joy, and ran to wake the children with kisses as she hugged and patted them in her de light. Arty opened his eyes ami shivered, but Min lay as cold and still as if she nad been a little marble statue. “She Is frozen; she is dead. What shall J do?—oh. what shall I do?” cried Bess, in despair, when she had nibbed the purple hands and white cheeks, and lifted the stiff eyelids, ami called the child every tender name she could think of. Arty seemed too sleepy to si-cak or understand, and poor Bess could only clasp her hands and look about for help, quite heart-broken nt tho dreadful fear she felt that she had come too late. As her eyes glanced from the poor baby to the, clear cold sky, asking God to show her what to do, the beautiful star shone on her like a friendly eye, and made her think of the one that led the shep herds to the manger where the Christ-Clnld lay that Christmas Eve so long ago. It comforted her somehow, and gave her now strength and hope* Catching up Min, she went ns •fast as she could toward a soft light which stiddt i>ly began to glimmer not far off. She thought it was the rising moon, but in a moment saw that it was the flame of ntiro left by the lumbermen. They had covered it, but the wind had fanned the embers, an I one bright flame blazed up to show Bess where lay the help she so much needed. As fast us her tired feet could go she hurried tn the warm sjmt, and laying Min on the hemlock boughs, where tho men sat to eat their dinners, she raked open the Are, threw on some dry crisp, and cover ing tho child with her own cloak, ran back to bring Arty a'.d the basket and the lantern. Up sr rang a fine fire, and the blessed warmth began to be felt as the half-frozen children lay in the full light of the blaze, while Bess sat the can on the coals, heated the milk, and made Arty drink some. lie was soon awake, and when a cookie was put into his han<l began to eat like a hungry boy, und to remember what had happened. He told Bees all about it, while she held Min in her arms, rubbing her till tiie warmth returned to feet and hands, and feeding her with little* sips of hot milk till she sighed “Moro-nice—more,” and lifted her drowsy little head to find the mouth of the can fur herself Many kisses, cookies, and chips restored the near ly frozen childreq to life, and then the question was how to get them home. Arty said ho could walk, but found his legs so weak und stiff that Bess was afraid to let him try. She could not carry Min so far; the sled was useless, and the nearest house was a long way off. So the wise child decided to leave them where they were, safe liy tho warm the, while she run for help, Explaining this to the boy, she told him to watch Min—who had fallen asleep again with a rake in ber hand—to throw on chipe, drink the milk, and not be afraid till she came back. He promised stoutly; but before she had piled up the wood, mode the fire safe, and hung the lantern on a tree to mark the place, he had fallen buck on the hemlock boughs, worn out, and ns fast asleep as his little sister. “Perhaps ft is just as well. He won’t take ilk Into his head to run after me and get lost again. I won’t be long, and they can’t freeze now,” said Bc»-h, as she tucked them up under her cloak with their feet to the fire, and laid boughs over them to keep the small coverlet from blowing away. Then, feeling that she had dene her best, she ran away to tell the anxious parents ti a’ the lost babies were safe. Tho moon was up now, and as Bess trudged through the wood, its big bright face rheere 1 her up, showed her the way, and seemed to smile approvingly upon the brave little girl. While she had boon doing her part so well, the town bad been all astir, and people running up and down looking fur the minister’s children. The poor mother was sure they had fallen in the river, for holes were found near the shore, and marks of little feet. Everything was In confusion at the house,and lanterns were flying to and fro like fire-flies as the anxious neighbor? looked high and low. Noone thought of the great pine wrxal on the hill-top. ft wa- so far away, and the children never went there, ft was no uon-ler people felt sure the dear babies had fallen into the water and been drowned. A crowd of sad-faced rncn were standing nt the gate of tiie personage, and the old ladies were inside, crying over the poor mother, who sat as if turned to stone, waiting for her dear dead children to bo brought homo U» her. Suddenly down the road came a little figure running fust, with hood half off, no cloak, aud panting breath. “It s Bena I she's found them I” cried the mtn. springing to meet her. At the sight of help all her strength seemed to leave the little girl, and she could only whisper brokenly as she pointed backward, ‘ -a'e—fn tho i woxl -by the fire -go quick Then she dropped i Uito the strong arms of the man who stood nearest, , and never heard the loud cheer that went up, telii Ing the town that the minister’s children found. Out rushed the startled women, and carried Best in to l>e blessed and cried over and comforted by thtf grateful mother, while the men went off as fast horses could carry them to the lumber camp, which’ all knew well. Bess was quite us-1 up, and could only lie on thtf sofa, and be petted and praised by all the old ladies alter word had been sent to grandma that she wai safe. Boon the chime of bells came merrily down th& long hill, and the runaways were laid in theip mother’s arms, safe, but tio sleepy to do anything but cry for bed, where they were speedily put, (3 dream of owls and cookies, Christmas trees and broken sleds, till next morning. Tiie minister, who had been away at a wedding,' came back in time to hear the story that n’gbt, and to carry Bess home himself, a very proud aud happy l little girl. She was quite satisfied with the thank# and uruises showered upon her, and thought that' would be the end of it. But the old ladies made a fine plan for their pet, and all the next day, in spitdj of their own dinners and gifts, they prepared for the surprLo in the evening. Good things to eat, warm things to wear, a load ot wood, and no end of kind words and wishes wori the presents left at the door of tho llttlo house thut Christmas morning, mid Bess felt so rich it didn'} seem as if sho could bear any moie. But when it note camo from Arty and Mln asking hcrtocomO upend see their tree, she was glad to go, and wrapi ping grandma up In tho funny old-fashioned cloak aud pumpkin hood she liked to wear, they drov, away in style when the big sleigh came for them. It was early in the evening on account of tha children, who were none the worse for their prnnki except bad colds and some stiffness in their usually active little legs. They nearly smothered Bess with kisses and hugs, understanding now that they owed their lives to iter, aud it was sweet to sec the proud air with which Arly led her in, and the eagerness with w hich Mln brought an easy chair and nestled into il beside her friend, not to mention the mother's face and the father’s hand shake as they welcomed her. All tho old ladies worq, there in their beat caps, and a flock of children, so there was quite a party to enjoy the tree. But first the minister made a little speech. "Friends," he said, “we must wait a few minutes while tho candles are lighted, ho I will tell a story to amuse you.” He told the dear old story of the Balies In the Wood. But he changed it as he went along—lie left out tho cruel nude ami the bad men; mode it winter instea 1 of summer, so there were no blackberries to oat, but cookies and milk; the Kind Robin covered the babes with hemlock boughs, not leavi's; and best of nil they didn't die, but went home safe and well to it father and moil.er, who were kept alive forth * express purpose of thanking Hint dear robin. There was great laughter and < lati. ping of him is among the children, as some tearg twinkled out of the eyes of the tciider-ln arted old ladies ns they listened, but every one shouted when tho story ende l, und tho minister added; ■My runaways went to find a Christinas tree, mid here is the one good fairies have sent them, not for their dolls, but for Hie brnve, kind friend who aved their lives.” Then the folding door flew open, mid there on a table a;ood tho loveliest little tree ever soon, till shining with caudles, golden fruit, pretty glfty, and on Hie top a groat bright star, for Hess had told about the ono she saw In the wood when she prayed for help. All the children took hands and danced about the tree until astonished Bess wits ready to go mid take tho presents hung there for her by these kind people, who were glad to show their gratitude in this pretty way. Among them In mi envelope was a year’s rent from the minister, nil tnannerof warm and comfortable things lor grand ma, mid for Hess a scarlet clonk and lioofl tn replace Tl.c Old gray one burnt and torn that night in tho wood. ’ N w .‘he lo >ks like Rod Riding-hood; but I won't lot the old wolf cat her," cried Arty, bound to be her Knight for evermore. “No, I think she looks like the robin-redbreast that covered tho babes with leaves,” began the minister, smiling at her, with hig hand on her head. “Yes, yes, she's the robin, she’g the good robin cried tho children,” pleased with the fancy. And after that Bess was culled “Little Robin" by every one who knew her, mid the old ladles were never tired of telling how site earned the name. Transplanting a Forest. From tiie Indianapolis News. The Count of Monte Cristo was the first to suggest the pructloubtllty of transplanting full : grown forest trees. He Ims followers now In In dianapolis. A primeval forest east of Hie city Is bo« lug removed—boughs, trunks, roots and all. i Colonel Johnson Inst summer erected a dwelling on the open ground near his garden this side of Ir vlngton; the aun’Nriiys l ent down on Hutt housd blisteringly, and the colonel concluded to protect It * with trees. One Bunnell was found who declared ho could transplant an mijacont forest to the colo nel's yard. Tho trees vary from ten to eighteen Inches in diameter. Bunnell rigged up a stout wagon, faste.iirg to Hie hind wheels mi Immense lever, forty to fifty foot long, thick and strong. Thld was laslicd at one end to tiie wagon. Around a tree to be removed he dug a trench, Hie radii being tbieo or four feet. On one side he du*; a twelvo inch trench close to t ■* tree, mid into this treneh he backed his wagon wheels with tho erect lever. The lever then stood pmullel with the trunk ol tho tree, and Hie two wore lushed together, boom fashion. As far up as the trei-trunk was stiff tha lever would lie tightly fa'tened, giving oue soliiß . unyielding leverage. From tiie top of Hie logs thur boomed a rope w is ran around a pulley fm-tened nt the surface of Hie g*oinnfa hundred feet or inurtf i from Hie tree. Team, bitched to Hie end of Hio rope could then with care uproot tho tree with a i large quantity of earth and root attaclied. When i thus uprooted it would l.c on wheels find easilji; l l movable, held steadily from roots to tip. The sue* cess of the work on the Johnson place has led tql i the removal of many large trees on the Mortal Hide. Tho process Is I elieved to be of no hmm tq] i the tree's ilia. Ho.cever, sptiug will reveal thi , sequel. ♦ Hanging In I rout of Ills Hying Wife. From the Purls Herald. . The shoemaker Friedrich, at Goorlitz, I’rus* . siu, had for yeui n supported himself and Ins bed-rid- 1 di n wile by working hard at bls trade. At tiie samp time he attended to Hie household and nursed tUO‘ sick woman. The other day Hie du tor told hint'’ Hint bis wife was nearing her end, and that by nexf morning dawn she would have breathed her last Friedrich stood Hiunde s ruck. He battled agulust the feverish excitement of ids blood and Lrmng' without success. His wife did not know what td make of Idin. Towmil midnight he fnstm c-la ropg to a book on the wall, and In sight of hu wile, whdf could only call to him i:u 1 beg of him to desist, bug was unable to rise from her bed, lie hanged lifrnseif In the n.orulng the neighbors found two corpses. « , A’cm Hann Neum: Monkeytown Is tlio mime of it new postoffice of Yazoo county, Mississippi. Doubt* less Hie postmaster could unfold a tale. Gained 15 ••I have been a great sufferer from Torpid I.lver and Hyspepala. Kvery thing I ute disagreed with sue until I began taking T utfs Pills ) I r euii now <H<e«t i*ny kind of food| never have a headache, and have cd fifteen baiinth in nefl|rlit. M i W. A< 111 I.TZE, Colnmbla, H. SOLD EVEBYWHEKE. ✓T\\ fi |Va Awf oua corNTRY HOME, I. \\ • mwiinoih 2u I*;-, HO cuiucun i Vi \\ IlluitfbU-d I'ajrer. •.♦soled to ¥■ Y\ I*** l •*’ V iK, Htnie Infjbiofira.md a hoti • V/' VA °hnl«rett!:.g*ii .tipraft.rllio t >7 . F' too \ WrHUn • * for Kt' f’lv ' l/*-\ knGWo wi tr*» ju the KfMrt rTI lAsrA v ulhix u» in- L l ’ I ‘HgrlA 11 A'*’ o tAYv •4' I bouiriwT.vreH hMDoI [BL Jr V ’ , A *** T k Xlrestjy U-. t. taken, w " * ' ■■ ft < 'n*r: '■ Ulk.tl rrteil l of oolp j a4«-r».»./t.'**iflJti'*t« hA'iJ "'i "7 * J "' -■ ll “" - ’ Xk f’.H,XXX,«iI -* :. E-ti.iikeM chlfL We kn / tha» tint Hindkcr'-LUF, wbl hhm btt-n hi- • . turaj •Ts rr<sly V> rur'r hr, h«•no r t -»l fn Jk lbtof vahir. V - warrant | tbaorl<>rt to t>« fast and <1 *-«! l-y ll <?»> < »i«pr,ro»«l l’"rr» b loelbod. VTa warra'.l the rf-rtlxna t • thu Jf gabion. W t waim».t rvrry ( thratvi in tbbbandkerchlcf lo la | -,:r< .ft. Ilian potl’.lt* l irlthal l!.>a) si.dkercLtef w'lghl La r nu/.'-rfd cJitiapai 75 Thayar* I full rlza. pP-oernbar, we '/vt eof lliew baaotiful .all Silk lianth Itert-I .. faEiiKK to aieraoita t-n llnv <i«nt«for tt.i't muialiT I aui-t'irfp- nb. Oi llCO’ NTRY HOME. a*t><l 4 ilaodka* cbM< • I 1- t /’•erfptkmaf ’♦l .00. Money r*tuuded ’A you are | Puhi. Our Country Homs, Wallingford, ConnJ 9