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1 ???? M?? _ . ?? ? The Abbeville Press and Banner. ! i ^ i ??_ WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1888. VOLUME XXXIII. NO. 12. Jg Fault-Finding. Margaret E. Sangster, in the Christian Intelligencer. There are certain rosks 011 which happiness, if it strike, is very likely to split. One of these is fault-finding. The habbit of grumbling is fatal to family peace, and if indulged in habitually by any single member of a household is sure to disturb the harmony of all the rest. Like most bad habits this is formed insensibly, and many inveterate and fretful fault-finders are so unconscious of their besetting sin that in their own eyes they are models of amiability. "If," they say, "so and so were done, or undone, we would never complain, but"? Alas! in most houses there are "ifs" and "buts." The most delightful and lovable people are only human, after all, and have their nervous days, and their forgetful days, and their days of Knlnnnnnnrallir Allf Af UTkrtu flnH HI llf>. UCllJ^ VUV W? W* V... ? Very many people have their sharp points, which must be avoided, and their weak places, which are getting in the way; and in fact there are very few of us who have not somewhere a spot where it would be quite saf6 to erect such a warning-post as in winter stands at intervals on the skatingpond, "Danger here !" To live with people in the familiarity and complete unreserve of domestic life, and to live so gently and pleasantly that no one's foibles are made manifest, no one's feelings wounded, and no one's personality unjustly invaded, implies tact, unselfishness, and almost saiutiy patience, on the part of all concerned. There are homes where love is so completely the motive-power, and courtesy so unfailing the custom, that a ripple of trouble rarely disturbs their calm: unfortunately, such homes are not in the majority. In far too many houses there are often undiguified and unnecessary scenes at breakfast, dinner, and tea, which are not quite quarrels, but which are probably worse in their effects. As a thunder-storm clears the air, and the sunshine seems brighter, so a good, honest quarrel once in a great while may?we say it doubtfully, however?make everything lovely afterwards. (Lovers, by the way, have been known to quarrel for the pleasure of making up and being friends again.) But a feeble, intermittent, never-ending, still-beginning patter of fault-finding wears away heart and soul and strength. Fancy being R. Wilfer, and living with that angelic creature his wife! Fault-finding people usually have their favorate provocations. Thus, while to the man of the house who has fallen into the most unmanly way of scolding indiscriminately anything will afTord an occasion, from a forgotten cobweb to a knot in the baby's shoestring, it is an utter impossibility for him to pass by the carving knife. Carving knives are edge tools that seem to have been primarily designed to try the masculine temper. "My dear," says the gentleman, laying down knife and fork with the air of a martyr, "this knife is dull again. It is singular that we never can have a sharp knife in this house." Precisely as though every other house in tne place were furnished to perfection with the finest cutlery, and this only were deficient. After carving knives, coffee is a convenient objective point. It is too weak or too strong, it is cold, it is thick, it is everything and anything but right. As for the mistress, when she is a scold, farewell to comfort: 'All hope abandon ye who enter here," might appropriately be inscribed over the door of every abode where presides a fault-finding wife. Feminine resources are inexhaustible, feminine opportunities are endless; and as for the feminie tongue, Solomon said ages ago, and the accumul ated wisdom of the world today confirms his coviction, that a dwelling 011 the house-top would be infinitely pleasanter than life with "a brawling woman in a wide house." "But there are legitimate occasions for fault-finding?are there not ?" inquires somebody. Very likely; and when such arise meet them as it is the best way to meet every difficulty in life, farely, squarely, and bravely. Say the act is wrong in plain words, and have done with it. It is one thing to reprimand or approve where reproof or rebuke is a duty; it is quite another to keep up a scattering fire of small shot in the way of sarcasm, inuendo, and complaint, for half a day at a time. The true remedy, in nine cases out of leu, wntru L'liuuiiJbLitnctra ?ie vuukiuijr is to accept the situation. "Beware of desperate steps?the darkest day, live till to-morrow, will have passed away." The most aggravating servant, the roost provoking neighbor, and the most wilful child, are not proof against serene self-control and generous kindness, while fault-finding sows seed that comes up in a harvest of new antagonisms. Accept the situation, whatever it is, with eourageand cheerfulness ; and remember that neither nerves, temper, carving knives, nor coffee, were ever in the slightest degree improved by scolding. ^ ^ Keep Your Conscieuce Clear. Whosoever believes that knavery, cruelty, hypocrisy, or any other vice, can, uuder any circumstance, pro mote even the temporal happiness of him who practices it, is but a superficial observer and a shallow reasoner. In the world's parlance, men who acquire wealth and influence by unwarrantable means are called prosperous. But what is prosperity in the true and legitimate sense of the word ? Webster tells us: "Advance or gain in anything good." No man can be deemed truly prosperous whose con science is ill at ease, ana wnosoever enriches himself at the expense of justice, duty and honor, plunges his soul, even here, into a state of adversity, which no indulgence of the senses, no adulteration of time-servers and parasites, nothing that money can buy or power command, will effectually or permanently relieve. Another strong argument iu favor of doing right is, that out of every hundred men who seek wealth by dishonorable roads, ninety-nine come to poverty and shame. This is a fact, and taken in combination with the undeniable truth, that the small percentage of aspiring knaves who win their game, feel in their souls that it has been dearly won at the sacrifice of inward peace and seif-esteem should long have made all the world honest, on selfish principles. xne retrospective review ui ? uiso^r pointed scamp must be melancholy in the extreme. He sees, of course, with terrible distinctness, how each departure from rectitude helped to cloud his life, sink him deeper in misery, and alienate him from the sympathies of the noble and the good. He is conscious of the besotted blindness which led him to put his trust in cunning and chicane, instead of choosing the path of duty and leaving the consequences to Providence, is compelled to acknowledge to himself that roguery is the twin of folly, and a pure life the best evidence of a sound brain as well as of a Christian spirit. Be assured, therefore, that it is good worldly policy to keep the conscience clear: It tends to comfort, content, and produces real happiness; nor can this fair earth, and the excellent things with which it abounds, be thoroughly enjoyed by any Croesus to whose gold cling the curses of the wronged. The closing scenes of a life are, however, the grand test of the wisdom or folly which has shaped its course. Sir Walter Scott's dying words tell the whole story: "Be a good man, Lock hart; nothing else will comfort you when you come to lie here." A >Toble Act of Heroism. I remember a little incident that happened many years ago. When I was in Cornwall, in 1854,1 visited the mine where the incident occurred. C'arlyle refers to the story in one of the chapters of his "Life of Sterling." Two men were sinking a shaft. It was a dangerous business, for it was necessary to blast the rock. It was their custom to cut the fuse with a sharp knife. One man then entered the bucket and made a signal to be hauled up. When the bucket again (Vio ntlior mnn if vlvw VvU U V\* I W"V VIUV4 VMVVa VM **} aud with one hand on the signal rope and the other holding the fire, he touched the fuse, made the signal, and was rapidly drawn up before the explosion took place. One day they left the knife above, and rather than ascend to procure it they cut the fuse with a sharp stone. It took fire. "The fuse is on fire!" Both men leaped into the bucket, and made the signal; but the windlass would haul up but one at atime ; only one could escape. One of the men leaped out, and said to the other, "Up wi' ye; I'll be in heaven in a mimute." With lightning speed the bucket was drawn up, and the one man was saved. The explosion took place. Men descended, expecting to find the mangled body of the other miner; but the blast had loosened a mass of rock, and it lav diaeronallv across him : and with the exception of a few bruises and a little scorching, he was unhurt. "When asked why he urged his comrade to escape, he gave a reason that skeptics would laugh at. I would not be what is called a "skeptic" today for all the wealth of the world. But what did this hero say wheu asked, "Why did you insist on this other man's ascending?" In his quaint dialect, he replied : "Because Iknowed my soul was safe; for I've gie it in the hands of Him of whom it is said, that faithfulness is 'the girdle of His reins,' and I knowed that what I gled Him He'd never gie up. But t'other chap was an awful wicked lad, and I wanted to gie him another chance," All the infidelity in the world cannot produce such a signal act of heroisn as that.?Anon. More Room. When every nook and corner seems full, consider the walls. A greatniany things may be hung on a strip of wood runuing across your bedroom or kitchen wall covered from dust by a calico curtain. Envelope bags, straightened by ropes or lath strip, may hang anywhere to hold aprons, collars, hats, newspapers, everything. Packing boxes may be placed one above another and shelved and curtained, or small ones may be padded like ottomans and used for seats and cases to hold bed linen or underclothing. A few yards of bright chintz adorn a room wonderfully in the way of curtains, chair ;covers and scrap bags. The Hired Assassin. HY REV. GEO. C. BECK WITH. Everybody in Massachusetts sixty years old remembers well what was called "the Salem tragedy" of 1826. Joseph and Francis Knapp, distant relatives of a rich old gentleman in Salem, by the name of White, instigated Richard Crowninshield, by the offer of a thousand dollars of the plunder, to kill the old man, and seize his treasures. Crowninshield, entering the house of his victim at midnight, and creeping softly up stairs to the room where he was sleeping, struck him over the head with a bludgeon, and then turning down the clothes, stabbed him several times in the heart with a dagger. Everybody called him a hired assassin ; and he would have been hung as an atrocious murderer, if he had not, in his prison, hung t i. T mmsen. me iwu rvuupjio t?nc uku, convicted and hung for hiring Crowninshield to assassinate Mr. White, j Here is a clear case of hired assassination ; aud wherein does it differ from the profession of a soldier ? Doubtless there is some difference; [but in what does it consist, and te what does it amount? How far are the two professions or acts alike ? Let us look at the facts. Here is a nation of ten, twenty or fifty millions, that hire you as one of their soldiers to kill whosoever they may wish to have killed. The nation, indignant that the Chinese spurn their opium, or that the Afghams reject their favorite ruler, or that the Seminoles will not give up their lands, the inheritance of fifty generations, to some avaricious white man, order you to go and kill them, burn their dwellings, and butcher, without distinction or mercy, thousands of unoffending men, women and children. We see now the facts in the two cases ; and what is the difference ? The deed is the same, except that in one case a single man was killed, and in the other thousands or scores of Aiitrft faa So aooan. I lilUUSUUUSi JLilC UiUU TVj ivv/j 10 vouvu tially the same?with the employers, self-aggrandizement; with the hired agents, pay. The difference, for there is some, will not redound much to the soldier's credit over the assassin; the soldier hires himself to millions of men called a nation; Crowninshield hired himself to only two men. The soldier hires him&elf out to kill whomsoever the nation may wish to have killed at any time; the assassin engages to do a specified act, to kill a single man at a given time, and that man named beforehand. The soldier is hired to kill by the month or year ; the assassin is hired by the job. The soldier is a day laborer in the work of blood ; assassin is a jobber at the same trade. The assassin is better paid than the soldier; for the former was promised a thousaud dollars for killing one man, while tne latter migni kiu a hundred in a day without getting half a dollar for the whole. The soldier agrees to kill any and all whom the nation may bid; and if required to shoot his own father or mother, brother or sister, wife or child, he must shoot them, or be shot himself; whereas the assassin, had he refused to kill the old man according to agreement, would not himself have been liable to be hung. Truly, the soldier makes a fearful bargain. If he refuses to kill any whom the nation may bid him kill, he must himself be put to death. He nevertheless enters into the bloody compact, not knowing but he may be ordered to shoot or stab his own parents, wife or children. Not quite so bad the assassin's bargain. Had AmrvoorA/l f/\ It i 11 of Atllf VlU>YUIUSiilUiU vu^U^VU i/v aai aw muj time anybody whom the Knapps might wish to have killed, with the understanding that he should himself be put to death if he ever refused to kill anyone they should bid, there would be a pretty close analogy between his case and that of the professed soldier. But the assassin's position was not so terrible. The soldier must kill whomsoever his employers may bid him kill, or the terms of his contract make him liable to be shot or hung himself. Now, tell us why a hired assassin, like Crowninshield, should be hung aa a monster of wickedness, while the soldier, hired by twenty millions to do the same deed by wholesale, is adimred and eulogized as a hero f To kill multitudes at the bidding of millions, is deemed patriotic, glorious, worthy of songs, and eulogies, and monuments ; but to kill one man at the bidding of another one is denounced as base, lniamous, uiat>oiicai, deserving of the gallows, of eternal infamy. Well did Bishop Porteus say, "One murder makes a vllllan ; Millions a hero." His Horse Exposed Him. Robbers and other cowardly rascals who live by taking mean advantage of other people would seldom get away with their plunder if promptly and shrewdly followed up, as the highwayman was in this English story. A Quaker was returning home one evening on a particularly fine horse, when he was stopped by a man with his face blackened, mounted on a nag whose ribs, bones and joints one could count through its skin ; but not its teeth, for .those had disappeared, not through ! eating hay, but chaff. I "Holy man," said the newcomer, "my horse, which can yet dimly remember the landing of Julius Ciesar, stands sorely in need of 9uch attention as yours appears to enjoy. If you like we'll exchange. You have no pistol, and I have." The Quaker considered : What's to be done? At any rate, I have a second horse at home, but not a second life. So they exchanged, and the robber quietly rode off townward with the Quaker's horse. The Quaker, however, led the robber's starved beast by the bridle, and, upon arriving at vai na imnn 1 fa honlr IU YY 11 I lUign LUU AVIUO Uj^vu <vw> saying: "Lead the way, thou bag of bones; thou caust better find thy master's stable than I." He followed the horse up street and down till it stopped at a stable-door and would go no further. The Quaker entered the house, and found the thief just rubbing the soot from his face with an old stocking. "Lo, thou hast got home, friend," said the Quaker; "and if thou hast no objection, we will amend our exchange, for it was not lawfully made. Give me back my horse; thine is at the door." The rascal, seeing he was outwitted, had no choice but to deliver up the stolen horse.?Good Cheer. , ? * ?? The Dangerous Flat Wheel. As a train was pulling out of the West side Union Station in Chicago a passenger sat still a moment as if listening to something and then rose from his seat, picked up his luggage, and asked his travelling companion to go with him into the first car ahead. "But we have just got comfortably seated here," replied the other ; "why should we make a change ? Car too hot for you ?" "No, the temperature is all right." "Too cold, mebbe?" "No, it's not too cold." "Then what is the matter? Why should we go into the front car?" "Well I'll tell you. You know I used to be a railroad man, a conductor, and, of course, I picked up some ideas on the road that a man gets only from experience. As soon as the train started my ears told me there was flat wheel under this car. Don't you hear it rapping on the rails? Wait till the train slows up for the first stop, and then you'll hear it?running too fast now. Yes, sir, car wheels flatten out and have to be closely watched. Some imperfection or unevenness in the iron or some extraordinary blow on a rail or obstruction, makes an impression ou the surface of the wheel and then every revolultion thereafter adds to the injury. A wheel will flatten out ill a remarkably short time, and on long runs of through trains a flat whpel is a source of dauger. If this wheel runs from here to New York, aud happens to be a pretty soft wheel, ' the chances are that it will arrive there in a very bad condition, after doing as much damage to the track as the company will get iu passenger money from all the occupants of the car. Of course there's not much danger ; but I make . it a rule never to ride in car that has a flat wheel under it, and if you don't j mind we'll go up ahead."?Chicago 1 Herald. Feeding Corn to Horses. 1 Corn is the bane of the farm-horse, as it is also of the horse doing any other sort of work, not because of not being sufficiency nutritious, but because it makes too much fat and not enough muscle. The horse's muscle wears 1 away under exercise, but its disappear- ' ance in no wise lessens the power for ' either draft or speed. On the other hand, well nourished and vigorously exercised muscles, with a deposit of fat to keep them company, are much more efficient for any purposes for which j the horse is kept than when there is a load of fat to be carried. The trainer acts upon the proposition, and works the fat off, experience having shown that the muscles, trained down by exercise until fat accumulations are removed?fattening foods being mainly abstained from?give the best results in a case of a speedy horse. The same rule will hold good with the work-horse, though modified by the degree to which the movements of the latter are slower than those of the former. If the farmer has only corn for fc^ then he will be wise to make sale of liT^corn, or the greater part of it, buying oatmeal instead. If corn be used whole or in part, the effect should be carefully noted as to the extent to which fermentation sets in, meeting this by use of salt and ashes, at once lessening the amount of corn fed. It will be found that horses fed freely on corn will eat 1 earth when allowed access to it, as to ' \ a degree this neutralizes the acid generated in the stomach and gives relief, j Corn may be rated as the natural food ^ for fattening stock?such as are fed for their flesh. All kinds .of fattening stock are made ripe on corn, with the ( addition of an allowance of coarse feed for fodder. Ripeness in a horse is a very different thing from ripeness in the steer, for in one case it means full 1 ] vigor of muscle with an absence of fat J and in the other an abundance of fat, no matter how much, and as to the muscle, no matter how inefficient the work. Though a Christian's obediencecan't merit Heaven, it is a blessed token of his meetness for it. Cultivate a sense of an all-seeing Eye, one whom you would not for the world offend. A Story by John B. Gougli. A young man once advised me to advocate pure moral suasion. At a meeting where this y. ung man was present I said to the audience, pointing to him : "Some say we ought to advocate moral suasion exclusively. Now I will give you a fact. Thirteen miles from this place there lived a woman, a good mother, a good woman." I then related her story as she told it : My husband is a drunkard. I have worked, [and hoped, and prayed, but I almost gave up in despair. He went away and was gone ten days. He came back ill with the small-pox. Two of the children took it, and both of them died. I nursed my husband through his long sickness?watched over him night and day, feeling that he could not drink again, nor ever again abuse me. I thought he would remember all this experience. Mr. Leonard kept a liquor-shop about three doors from my house, and soon after my husband was well enough to get out. Mr. Leonard invited him in and gave him some drink. He was tben worse than ever. He now beats me, and bruises me I went into Mr. Leonard's shop one day, nerved almost to madness, and said: "Mr. Leonard, I wish you would not sell my husband any more drink." "Get out of this," said he, "away with you. This is no place for a woman ; clear out." "a ut I don't want you to sell him any more drink." "Get out, will you? If you wasn't a woman I would kick you into the middle of the street." "But, Mr. Leonard, please don't sell my husband any more drink." "Mind your own business, I say." "But my husband's business is mine," she pleaded. "Get out! If you don't I will put you out." I ran out and the man was very angry. Three days after, a neighbor came in and said : "Mrs. Tuttle, your Ned's just been sent out of Leonard's shoD so drunk that he can hard ly stand?" "What! my child, who is only ten years old?" "Yes." The child was picked up in the street and brought home, and it was four days before he got about again. I then went into Leonard's shop and saiil: 'You gave my boy, Ned, drink.' "Get out of this, I tell you," said the man. I said : "I don't want you to give my boy drink any more. You have ruined my husband; for God's sake spare my child," and I went down upon my knees, and tears ran down my cheeks. He then took me by the shoulders and kicked me out of doors. "Then," said I, pointing directly to my friend, "young man, you talk of moral suasion? Suppose that woman was your mother, what would you do to the man that kicked her!" He jumped up from his seat, and said:; I'd kill him! That's moral suasion, is it ? Yes, I'd kill I'm kill a woodchuck that had eaten my beans." Now, we do not go as far as that; we do not believe in killing or persecuting, but we believe in prevention and Prohibition.?Prohibition Bombs. A Word About Bread. A physician's daughter thus writes to an exchange : "In the 'household' ;olumn I read of so many woes in bread making that it is a wonder why no one has yet suggested substituting Dther food for bread. Some of the best physicians now avoid 'suppers,' and bave 6 P. M. dinners purposely to ivoid bread and cake. There is no excuse for bread at breakfast and dinner, while for 'supper' stewed potatoes, with poached eggs or cold meat, could form the principal part of the meal, lddingsoft custard, with fruit and delicate cake; bread is unnecessary. The children of our family have for breakfast hominy or oatmeal with potatoes, fruits, delicate meats, with milk, and perhaps a cracker. For dinner, meat 3r chicken, asparagus, potatoes and ather healthy vegetables and fruits, with rice or other simple dessert, while at supper, stewed potatoes, milk, eggs ar cold chicken, cottage cheese, blancmange, with occasionally a little simple cake." m Valuable Advice to Young Girls. A lady of intelligence and observation has remarked: "I wish I could impress upon the minds of the girls that the chief end of woman is not to marry young." If girls could only be brought to believe that their chances for a liannv marriage were better after twenty-five than before, there would be much less misery iu the world than there now is. To be sure, they might not have so many opportunities to marry as before, but, as they?do not need to marry but one at a time, it is necessary that one should be satisfactory. As a girl grows older, if she thinks at all, she certainly becomes more capable of judging what whoukl make her happy than when younger. How many girls of twenty would think of marrying the man they would gladly have married at sixteen? At thirty a woman who is somewhat independent, 'and not over-anxious to I marry, is much harder to please and more careful in her choice than one at twenty. There is good reason for this. Her mind has improved with her years, and she now looks beyond mere appearances in judging men. She is apt to ask if this man who is so very polite in company is really kind-hearted. Do his polite genial actions spring from a happy nature, or is his attractive demeanor put on for the occasion and laid off' at home, as he lays ofl' his coat? A very young girl takes it for granted that meu are always as she sees them in society?polite, friendly, and on their good behavior. If she marries early the man who happens to please her fancy, she learns to her sorrow that in nine cases out of ten a man in society and a man at home are widely different beings. Five years at that period of life produce a great change in opinions and feelings. We frequently come to detest at twenty-five what we admired at sixteen.?Scottish American Journal. A Remedy for Diutheria. Very considerable interest has been excited in foreign medical circles by M. Broadel's successful treatment of diphtheria by the use of benzoate of sodium. He asserts that of 200 consecutive cases he has not lost a single one and, though admitting the posibility of a mistaken diagnosis in some instances, yet, even excluding 50 per cent, on this account, there remain 100 cases without a death. His method is to have the patient take, every hour, a tablespoonful of a solution of benzoate of sodium, fifteen grains to the ouuce, and at the same time one-sixth of a grain of sulphide of calcium in syrup or granule; in addition to. this the throat is thoroughly scraped every half hour with the benzoate, this Deing done unfailingly at the regular intervals, day and night, with no other local treatment whatever. No attempt is made to dislodge the false membrane. The nourishment consists of beef juice, tender meat, milk, etc.. but bread and all other articles which may cause irritation of the throat are forbidden.? New York Tribune, T)n Not Dflsnnir. The word "pattern" in the original is expressive?a pattern from which endless copies may be taken. You have heard of stereotype printing; when the types are set up they are cast?made a fixed thing, so that from one plate you can strike off thousands of pages is succession without the trouble of setting up the types again. Paul says, "That I might be a plate never worn out?never destroyed; from which proof impressions may be taken to the very end of time." What a splendid thought, that the apostle Paul, having portrayed himself as the chief of sinners, then portrays himself as having received forgiveness for a grand and specific end, that he might be a standing plate, from which impressions might be taken forever, that no man might despiar who had read V*?<j Tlf C*iliYY)Yni<nft UJO UXUgl?|^UJ. X/? One Kind of Repentance. A child who, like all children, was excessively fond of sweets, disobeyed her mother and helped herself to a plate of rich cake, of which she ate freely. She soon grew feverish, complained of headache, and was obliged to go to bed for the remainder of the day. Her mother was anxious about her I condition and feared she was going to bed ill. On entering her closet, however, the empty plate and the crumbs on the lloor explained the mystery of the sudden attack. She went to her child's room. "Have you been eating anything you ought not, Nellie?" Nellie looked in her mother's face and saw that she had found out about II - ?T? Tt 'Ani.) Aa fa rlanv me cane, jli ?uum uu 6wu ?v.v it. "Yes, mamma, late some cake." "No wonder you are sick. You took the cake without leave, which was stealing; and you disobeyed me by going into the closet when I have repeatedly told you not to do so. Now you are being punished for your sins. Are you sorry, Nellie ?" she asked,seeing the child's tears falling fast. "Yes, mamma," she sobbed. "I'm sorry the cake made sick, and sorry you found it out." Her repentance was very much like that of many older people; she was sorry that her sin was found out, and that she had to suffer in consequence; but that was all. ' Another Remedy for Hog Cholera. A waiter in the Southern Planter, of Richmond, Va., says to the Commissioner of Agriculture : "I will place in your hands one hundred dollars to pay for hogs if they should die with the sio-called hog cholera, if you will have tested the following remedy, which I have used with great success : Take a sack of salt and a barrel of hard wood ashes, (hickory or oak preferred.) mix the salt and ashes thoroughly, prepare a box of any conveninent size, put it under cover where the hogs can have free access to it at all times, and keep a supply of the mixture in it. This mixture will cost you offe dollar, some trouble, hut will be sufficient for several hogs for one year. The religion which costs its owner nothing is probably worth about its cost. Example. We scatter the reeds careless bands, And dream we ne'er shall see tbem more; But for a thousand years Their fruit appears. In weeds that roar the land. Or healthful store. The deeds we do, the words we say, Into the still air they seem to fleet, We count them ever past, But they shall last; In the dread Judgment they And we shall meet. I charge thee by the yearo gone by, For the love's sake of brethren dear. Keep thou the one true way, In work and play, Lest in that world their cry ; Of woe thou hear. Lost Opportunities. A gentle, gracious old lady, of seven? ty, lately tofd the following incident to her grandchildren. We give as nearly as possible her own words: "I drove out one day when I was a young girl to the park. Some triffle had occurred to irritate me; a disappointment probably about a dress or bat. I left the carriage and bidding the coachman drive on, sat down on a hpnrth near t,h? river. Some children were playiug under the trees, their nurses looking on. I remember that their noise anuoyed me and that I tried to control my own ill-humor. But I thought, Why should I not be . ill-humored if I choose ? I was alone; it could harm nobody. "A man jstood near me, leaning against a tree. He attracted my attention, because his clothes were of fine quality, though worn and ragged. There was something about his air and manner, too, which betokened gentle breeding. He turned and saw me lookiug at him, and, apparently following a sudden impulse, came up and asked me for work. I was not frightened, for * his manner was perfeactly respectful, but I was angry at being annoyed by a stranger. " 'What work could I have tor you?' " I said. . ,J . " 'That is true.' He bowed and turned away. I sat by the river for a while, and then went to meet the carriage, which was returning. "The*man aarain stomped me. 'You are young,' he said. 'You ought to have more mercy than the world. I am a very wretched man. If you would use your influence, could you ^ not get me work?' "His voice was so hoarse, I thought he had been drinking. I hurried on without speaking. The ooachman threatened him with his whip, seeing that I was annoyed. I went home, but the mau's pale face haunted nw all that night. "The next morning my father read from the paper: 'The body of a man was found last night in the rlverabov? the dam. It proved to be a Virginian, named Hall, who had qeen struggling with poverty and ill-health in the city for months. He had been travelingthe day before; had applied for work to every man he met' His last appeal ?"ftQ mn A bin/1 fpAIYl VY1A vt c*o iv ujw< xx aiuu nvtu mv would have saved him. It was a terrible lesson. Fifty years have passed since then, but even now I awake at night with that man's face before me." The consequences of our careless neglect of the poor are not often brought home to us in such away. Yet we may be certain that every time we turn away from a needy broth- . er, we leave him to evil influences which we might have changed into good ones. Every beggar, every creature, hurt or hungry in body or soul, that ;comes in our path, is an opportunity given to us by God, to make ouselves like Master in his compassion and kindness. "Inasmuch," the ! Savior tells us, "as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did It not to me.? Youth1 s Companion. New Syuonymmes. "Buy and buy"?a woman shopping Always on time?pawuoroKer?. Counter balance?light weights. All for show?the circus. In United States?married couples. Coming down?dude's moustache. A good watering place?Bath Maine. Traveling on water?Prohibition ticket. Easily seen through?spectacles. Just shocking?electric battery. Always on top?the roof. High sounding?bells in the steeple. Well drawn?pump water. Stuck up?wall paper. Backbiting is the habit of dogs, and only mean dogs at that; it certainly cannot be a characteristic of good Christians. And as for sanctitied persons, we would naturally conclude that they have 110 teeth to use in this way; it were impossible that they could be found biting at the back of a brother by sly innuendo, by damaging miarenresea tation. bv tale-bearincr and gossip. So it would appear from what is required in the Bible of Christians, and from what is olaimed by all profe^oors of sanctificatiou. The Scriptures plainly forbid evil speaking, and all professors of perfect holiness assert that the blood of Jesus cleanses irom all sin. But what are the facts revealed in practical life ? We know that many converted persons are not saved from backbiting ; it is a habit with them to do more or less of detraction ; and is it not a sad fact that even those who witness to the attainment of full redemption are found sometimes nipping ut the backs of their brethreu ? Their teeth are not sanctified?at least not wholly.?Divine Life,