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Eft? IC-: ' ' r-?h - ? SWra Of friANKSGIVING. Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving! Of yore, [ In the yonth of the Nation, ... When the harvest had yielded its store |\ There was feast and oblation. Or when danger had lifted its hand, From the lips of the living There rang through the length of the land A Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving! f Our home was a wilderness then * With the floods to enfold it; To-day with its millions of men, We rejoice to behold it. c From the 3ea to surge of the sea, ; We have all for a treasure ; We are tlest in the promised To-be i In a manifold measure. k War flaunts not a red pennon now, I For the olive is regal; i Like birds that are twin, on one bough ? Sit the dove and the eagle. The clash of the conflict that cleft I We in sorrow remember, 3 But the flre of the great fuel has left ? In the ash scarce an ember. For the fruit of the time of our toil; j, For whate'er we have fought for; ?' Whether born of the brain or the soil ' Be the meed we have sought for; ' For the gifts we have had from His hand t Who is Lord of all living, Let there ring through the length of the pf Wd r A Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving! g ?Clinton Scollard. ii', y,\< ^ BRAND'S THANKSGIVING. qr>. . ' BI W. BEET FOSTER :i" ?tram ELL, as loner as t you won't go with us, I 6'pose you'll said Farmer Brand halting beside the his eldest son was Farmer Brand was a man of sixty and much broken f in health, as his stooping shoulders i-and attenuated frame showed. John ' Brand was a young giant of twentyeight,'handsome, with a certain savage kind of beauty, for his straight / black hair, heavy brows and piercing ,eyea made him look more like an ^Indian than a white man. There was savage scowl on his face this morni ing, too, as he Bwung his axe, sending I its keen fclade deep into the wood at " every blow. "I wish ye would go with us, John," ; eaid his father, after hesitating a mo, ment, gently laying his hand on his r.tfmn'fi Hhonldar. "Brother Eben will be right glad to see ye, an' ye know I we never get over there 'cepting at "^Thanksgiving." ; ' "I hate holidays," growled John, throwing off his father's hand roughly Jj and continuing his attack on the i/Wood, : Mr. Brand walked slowly away and 3' climbed into the two-seated wagon beside his wife and little Billy. Bis appearance contrasted greatly ; with that of his wife. She was not f more than thirty-five and was plump 1 and good looking. The little boy, nearly five years old, sat between l&em. - : /"Here are the reins, father," she ' aaid, and smiled up at him, brightly, r She knew that he was greatly disapi '.pointed by John's refusal, although she was rather glad herself to get ' -- 5 # At _ 1_ awav ior one aay irom xne suny 1 fellow. The baok seat of the wagon was ! piled with extra wraps and hampers of pies and cakes to "piece oat" at i the dinner, should brother Eben's r folks be short; but there was plenty of room for John if he would go. The farmer turned ahd looked at him, but .the axe was going faster and harder than ever, every bio# saying as plainly as could be: "I hate holiday s!" Little Billy was impatient to etart so Mr. Brand reluotantly "clucked" to the old horse and they rattled out of the yard. It was a crisp November morning, the ground frozen as hard as a rook and a brittle coveriDg of ice over all the puddles and in muddy ruts. The trees on the mountain-side back of the house were bare of leaves and their branches sighed and Bhivered in the wind. John Errand threw down jus axe ana gazea alter tne retreating wagon with lowering brow. Ten years before hie mother had died. He had loved his mother?al' most worshiped her, in trath?and her death had made him feel very I bitter against the fate which had taken her away. His father had never h?d any great share of his fierce .young heart?he was so much dif? ferent from his mother. Bat they always got along well together, and for . the next four years, instead of striking ont for himself, as he had intended, John put Ids best exertions into the work of running the great farm. There were two hundred acres of it, woodland and meadow, hill and plain. Tfc ffnnld all he his some <Jav. on thnm was no use in John's going off for himeelf, so his father said, and John was aoconnted a fortunate fellow indeed by the neighbors. I But a change began to come over his father. John was slow to suspect the cause, although the neighbors, as neighbors will, saw and understood it from the first. John had been so wrapped up in his mother that never for an instant did he think that his r"' father might see some other w oman -whom he might wish to make his wife. . It therefore came like a thunder-clap when the farmer told him that he was about to marry a neighboring farmer's <2aughter, a young woman not much more than half his age. John did not oppose the union by words. His father's determination ?eemed, in fact, to have made him dumb. He only looked hi? scorn, anger'and contempt, and from that day was a changed being. His sociability and wit had enlivened almost every gathering of young ? - ma va/wiAn oin/ia V>io orri tt o 1 peupio JUi WUO AC^iUU OXiiVV UIO MAAAfU4 at manhood. These gatherings knew frim no more. He refnsed every invitation, retired within himself and brooded over the wrong which he fancied had beon done his mother's memory and himself. He would not even attend his father's wedding and when Mr. Brand brought his bride home all traoes of >r ':y ' r-* ; V ' ' ' " ' ' hid former wife?those little things which had become as familiar to him as the old house itself?had disappeared. Her picture which had been taken in her bridal dress and had hung over the high mantel in the parlor, her work table, the "cricket," on which her feet had rested during the long evenings when she sat and sewed or mended?all were gone and nothing 1 1 - 1?~wrtnfl ually fill fiis place ana possess ms rights. John had passively endured the coming of the wife; he hated the baby with an almost murderons hatred. He hoped that it would die, but little Billy grew up a strong, healthy boy, never having seen an ill day in his short life. He was the child of Farmer Brand's old age and before he Just I was two years old completely owned the entire house and itB contents? except John Brand. No amoant of coaxing baby ways won his heart. John simply hated him the more for being so pretty and sweet-tempered. He wonld not even toach the ohild. All the bitterness he had cherished for these six long years filledliis heart on this Thanksgiving morning as he stood gazing after the departing wagon. There had been nothing to keep him at home from the Thanksgiving merrymaking except his own ugly feelingB, for the farm work was all finished and everything made ship shape for winter. There was wood enough out already to last an ordinary lifetime, but there was a certain fierce pleasure for him in forcing the axe into the knotty sticks. He worked moodily on till noon, then fed the stock, and after looking the house went down to the village tavern and eat his dinner there. It was almost dark when he returned to the farmhouse. He did the chores and went to bed before the others arrived?little Billy wild with delight over the festivities of the day, Mrs. Brand smiling and happy, and her husband with a sore spot in his old heart for his eldest son. Winter came quickly after that Thanksgiving. The snow wrapped evervthinc in its fleecv covering. drifted over fences and across the public roads, became crusted hard and snowed again, repeating the perform* ance until it lay three or four feet deep all over the country side. Farmer Brand shelled corn or smoothed axe helves and hoe handles in the kitchen corner; John chopped wood all day long as though he had taken a contract to supply the whole village with kindling; little Billy, with Guard, the Scotch collie, played in the snow and came in rosv-oheeked and panting after his frolio with never a suspicion of ' "croup"?that bane of children who are brought up like hot house plants. Sometimes Billy stopped near the scene of John's labors and watched the chips Sy from the sticks with delight. They seemed to fly all the faster the longer he watched them; but John paid no attention to his childish prattle and his dark, scowling face soon drove him away. It was quite a fortnight after Thanksgiving Day. The weather had been threatening for several days and the wiseacres declared a heavy storm brewing. John loaded up the woodteam during the forenoon with stove wood for the old lady who did his mending and washing. This waa how he partly paid her for the work. As he climbed aboard and gathered up the reins Billy came round the corner of the house. "Can I go to ride with you, please ?" he asked, doubtfully. "I want to go to Mrs. Peckham's." "Not on top of this load. You weigh so much that the horse couldn't draw it," growled John sarcastically. But Billy took the reply in perfect good faith. " Can I rido baok when the team's empty? " he asked. John growled something which might have meant yes, or nothing, and drove out of the yard. Billy < started bravely in the rear, although : [JUL tt Lltmp Ul noucr> nuu i^um x^w ?vv? in the great open fireplace was left. Mr. Brand had never taken John to task for this. He felt somehow as though he had no right to complain. The things had beeD more John's than x-z? n Ana Vifir? rA 1110) 1UI J UUi-l WW5 VUO V/uo nuu - mained entirely faithful to the dead. At first this new wife tried her best to gain John's favor; bat the young man repelled all her advances and never spoke to her unless he was absolutely obliged. In fact, he spoke to no one unless forced to. He even carried his clothing to an old lady in the neighborhood to be mended, rather than have Mrs. Brand touch his garments. The young wife did all she could to win his love, but to no avail, and before a year of her married life had passed she had something else to think of. A little baby came to the Brand house that John foresaw would event it was quite two miles to Mw. Peokham's. It was terribly cold and John turned np the collar of his rough ooat and chirruped to the horees. The wheels creaked most musically over the hard snow and the little figure trudged sturdily along in the rear. Billy's short legs could not keep pace with the strides of the farmhorses and he gradually fell behind. John looked back at him with a scowl and started the horses into a brisk trot. Before many minutes a turn in the road hid the little fellow from sight. "Little fool I he'll soon get sick of it," muttered John and thought no more about the child. A i TTrViAn T> a n rriTTrtrJ Am Q "RiIItt Ab uuuu trucu uc axiivwu uviuo was not about. He had not seen him on the way and decided that the little fellow had become discouraged and gone back again. But he was not about the house, as he soon discovered. "Have you seen Billy?" asked his step-mother, as John came in to dinner. He growled out a negative and sat down to the table. His father was already out hunting for the boy and after putting the food on the table Mrs. Braud threw a shawl over her head and went outside, too. It was bitter cold and the first snow flakes of the coming storm were in the air. John eat his dinner moodily and apparently undisturbed. " 'Eiah says she thought he followed you when you went to old Mis' Peckham's, John," said his father, coming in after an unsuccessful search of the premises. "Didn't you see him?" "No, I haven't seen the brat 1" responded his son, surlily. w :,Aw *sT ^ . Before Thanksc Mrs. Brand began to cry and the old man's weather-beaten face worked pitifully as be said in a broken voice: "Don't take on so, 'Riah. I'll gat the neighbors roused and we'll find him, so don't you worry," He hurried out on this mission and John Boon followed him, unable to stand the accusing looks of his stepmother. A half-dozen neighbors responded to the call for searchers and started out in different directions, expecting tft find tho <?hi1d anmA-arherA tiPAr the house. He certainly couldn't have gone far in the snow. John attacked the woodpile more fiercely than ever, feeling as though every blow of his axe was cutting the threads which bound little Billy to this life. The child could no? live many houre wandering about in this weather, and he, John Brand, would be his murderer? Suddenly he threw down his axe, unable to endure this self-torture longer. He unchained Guard, and with hasty strides started off down the road. His keen eyes examined every foot of the white drifts on either side of the beaten way. Somewhere little Billy must have turned out of the wagon-track. Not far below the house the woodland began. Half a mile through tfiie and he came to the place he had been looking for. There were the child's footprints where he had turned aside XTA IAII Atira/1 41 V? Am iiibU tUO wuuua, i-i.u Aviivngu vuvxju rapidly. Guird sniffing excitedly at the prints of the little rubber boots. A few yards back from the road was the log on which little Billy had seated himself to rest. When he arose from that he turned deeper into the woods instead of toward the road. John and the dog pressed on before the blast. The snow was coming faster now, and the footprints might soon be obliterated. He shouted occasionally as he went on, but no answer reached him. The child had traveled an astonishing distance, and almost directly away from home. Before long John reached higher ground and found that the hnv had nlimbftd the mountain side. Finally Guard bounded away with a short, sharp bark, and hurrying on John found him licking the cold face of his little master where he lay (juried at the foot of a great gnarled oak. There was a strange feeling at John Brand's heart as he picked the boy up and strode down the hillside in the tseth of the blast. The wind had risen to a gale and howled and shrieked through the woods in a perfect frenzy. Even Guard cowered before its strength. The keen wind cut John's bare hands and face like a knife, but he pressed on determinedly, sheltering the child's body as much as possible from the cold. He was cold himself. John Brand could never remember being so cold in his life before; but somehow the unconscious body of the little ?1 AMA V\ l rt Vv?AAn( ?TT r? a TUO nm _ uuiiu uiuao a^aiuob uio uioaov noo ?tcuui~ ing his cold heart and melting all bis hard and bitter feelings. Qiant though he was in strength and endurance he had to fight for each step of the way. It was only by the aid and direction of a higher power than his own that he at last reached ! the farmhouse and was helped inside . - " I . p by the anxious men who had been driven back from the search some time before by the gale. He had a very dim recollection a to how he got there, but some time later he found himself lying on the old settle in the chimney corner with his father holding a bowl of some hot decoction to his lips. He pushed it away and looked across the hearth to where Ms stepmotner, teariui ana smiling, was holding little Billy in her arms. "Is he all right?" asked John huskily. "Yes. thanks to the Almighty and to you, my son," replied his father reverently, and John smiled. It was late, indeed, but this was John Brand's Thanksgiving. A Little Premature. "Well," said Antony to Cleopatra, as the end of November approached, "it will soon be Thanksgiving Day." "What on earth are you thinking' about, Tony?" replied the prize beauty. "Thanksgiving Day hasn't V^onn trof '' UCOU 1UTOUVUU JOU. "That's so," replied the man as he sank back into thoughtful silence.? Judge. Thankful. "I don't see what makes people go to football games on Thanksgiving Day," remarked his wife. "It hasn't anything to do with the spirit of the occasion." "Oh, yes,it has," was the reply; "I never went to a football game in my life that I didn't feel tremendously thankful that I wasn't one of the players." rIVING. Historic Thanksgiving Pies. Ever since the pie that held the fonr and twenty blackbirds was celebrated in song, there have been attempts to render certain individual pies historic, I but it is mostly from old letters that | we learn of the achievements of our foremothers in that line. Life was too stern for many flights of fancy, but the repressed poetry of their natures sometimes took form in preparing Thanksgiving dinners. One of these records tells of a pie made by some "merry wives" and eaten upon a day of public rejoicing and thanks "for victory granted by our Lord to our men on the field." It would be interesting to kiiow in what [ kind of a dish the pie was baked, for its diameter was eighteen inches. Its i sides were walled up high, and on its broad cover was built up a curious representation of a fort attacked by savages. In the first quarter of this fastfading century, a colossal pie was made for Thanksgiving by a Dutch baker on one of the down-town streets Vom Tf ie qq hftriTUT I W4 AW4a' *" 10 ???o | been baked in twelve triangular sections, each a foot broad in the largest part. The pieces were laid together to form a circle and the joints were covered by decorations of confectionery. This was a pumpkin pie, and in its luscious custardness was concealed a gold half-eagle, the prize of the lucky purchaser who found it in his piece. The prudent baker, after the pie had been sufficiently admired, out it into even pieces at ten cents a slice, giving customers their choice of location, but refusing to take out a single piece till the whole pie was bespoken. A beautifully decorated pie was presented to Washington's successor Vi-c anmA ant.no.1 Dfuiffhters of the Rev I ? , O ? ? | olution. It was given a prominent ' position in the White Houhc, and kept on exhibition for several months. If at the end of that time the President ate it, we must reverence the memory of his good digestion. And Was Detained. Mme. Gobbler?"My children, I have sad news for you." The Little Gobblers?"What?" Mme. Gobbler (breaking into sobs) ? "Your poor, dear father attended a Thanksgiving dinner yesterday." Foresight. "That's the chap what was always a pokin* fun at me 'cause I kept from eatin' all the stuff they gave me; I knowed what I was about. They couldn't fool me when Thankegivin' waB a comm"?Life. ; vs ' ' S*V; wtmmam BAY OF FEASTING." SOME GOOD THINGS FOR THE THANKSGIVING DINNER. Approved Recipes for the Great American Feast Day ? Roast * Turkey and Stuffing ? Pumpkin Pie. y"T f HANKSGlVlNG ia a purely I , American feast day. It is a j day dedicated not only to the 6 giving of thanks, but to dining, and rightly enough, for there is nothing which will inspire one to a feeling of thorough content and good fellowship with the world more than a good dinner. The New York Herald gives its readers some excellent suggestions for ainner, witn many provea recipes ior the preparation of the different dishes. Oyster Soap?To make a delicious soup out of these succulent bivalves observe the following directions: Have two nice cgate or porcelain lined saucepans, one for milk and the other for the juice of the oysters. As this is a dinner for eight people, you must have good-sized saucepans. Put in one three pints of milk, with a heaping tablespoonfml of butter, a level teaspoonful of salt and two blades of mace. Stand over a slow fire. In the other saucepan put the liquor from two quarts of oysters, leaving the oysters in the colander through whioh the liquor has been drained until ready for use. Stand ttas over tne not part of the range, and as soon as the scum rises skim every fleck of it off with a silver or agate apoon?iron or other metal should not be used in cooking. After Bkimming stand the stewpan back where it does not boil; as soon as the milk begins to boil pour the oyster liquor into it, stirring gently to prevent curdling. Have ready two heaping tablespoonfuls of flour well mixed with cold milk; thicken the soup with this, stirring fast to break the lumps. If it is a bit lumpy strain through a fine colander into the empty stewpan. Put back in the range, and when it begins to boil drop the oysters in and let them cook until the edges curl. Fat some fine ohopped parsley and a pinch of powdered cloves in the bottom of the tureen. Pour the soup in, sprinkle in a little black pepper, and it is ready to serve. To Roast a Turkey?A turkey should be stuffed, trussed and prepared for roasting the night before Thanksgiv AU?l auuf ioj ui^ ii vu |/ioivvwi) |/uv av in a cold, dry place till you are ready to put it in the oven. Then get out your big, deep dripping pan and place the turkey in it, laying it on its side. If the turkey is fat put no water in the pan, as it will baste itself; if not fat, put a little water in the bottom of the pan. A twelve pound turkey requires three hours' good roasting. A turkey that is not well dose is a miserable thing and this is a Thanksgiving feast and everything must be perfect. Keep a tea kettle of boiling water on the range and once in a while as the turkey is roasting dash some water from the kettle over it; and do not fail to baste often. Chestnut and Oyster Stuffing?Chestnut stuffing is delicious, but is more expensive than the bread crumbs and requires a good deal of care and pains to prepare properly. For a good eized turkey take three quarts of the large chestnuts, or French marrons, as they are called; peel them and cook them in a steamer until tender enough to stiok a fork through; then pat them in a bowl and mash them as you weald, potatoes. Season well with butter, salt and pepper, a bit of onion and chopped parsley; soften with cream and stuff the turkey. Oysters added to the bread crumb stuffing makes an oyster stuffing. Chicken Pie?Cut a large, tender chicken in smaller pieces than for fricasseeingf put in a stew pan with half an onion, season with salt, cover with water and let it cook till tender; line a deep bakiug dish with a biscuit crust, put in the pieces (of chicken, add some pieces of butter and sprinkle with pepper; thicken the gravy in'the stew pan, having enough to cover the chicken in pie; cover with a biscuit crust; bake in a quick oven till crust is a delicate brown. This pie may be served hot or cold, but is better hot, and is delicious. How to Make the Stuffing?Put in a chopping bowl half of an onion, a sprig of parsley and a good sized stalk of celery; chop these all very fine, then take a loaf of stale bread which has had the crust removed and been soaked in cold watei* until so.'1;; put it in with the chopped herbs; flavor well with sweet majoram, salt and pepper, and after mixing all well together put it in the turkey. Sew up the aperture, and just before placing in the oven salt and pepper the turkey well outside. Pumpkin Fie?To a quart 01 equasn, which has been boiled and mashed through a colander, add the yolks of four eggs, a tablespoonful of melted butter, a little salt; sweeten with half molasses and half sugar ; season well with powdered cinnamon, ginger, mace and allspice; add the milk the last thing, making it the consistency of a thick batter; pour it in the pie pan, already lined with paste, and bake till a nice, rich brown; do not bake till watery, this spoils the pie. Oyster Pie?Line a deep porcelain dish with a rich paste; put in two quarts of oysters well seasoned with salt and pepper, a little powdered mace, a few little pats of butter and some chopped parsley; stir in a cup of fine cracker crumbs put on a top crust and bake in a quick oven. Celery Salad?Cut the celery in -11 waadtr carro 9IHfl.Il (llut? UI1U WiiCU X GC4.V4J bv UVJk TV pour over it rich mayonnaise dressing ; vinegar and salt may be added to taste when eatiug. Cranberry Sauce?This should bo made the day before so it will jelly nicely. To a quart of cranberries add eight heaping tablespoonf uls of granulated sugar and three tablespoonfuls of water; cook in a stew pan until all the berries have burst their skins and are almost like a jelly; then strain through a Bieve into a mould and put away in a cool place till ready for use. A live lobster, half red and half green, is one of the rarities on exhibition at one of the Portland (Me.) boat houses. I ' V ;y. RELIGIOUS READING, 8TKE>'GTH AND WEAKNESS. There are those in the world who put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter, no wonder, then, that some should mistake weakness, for strength, and strength for weakness. * I saw a vigorous man walking along with a light step and a laughing eye. The rosy tint of health was on his cheek, and his broad shoulders and muscular limbs were proofs of his bodily strength; but his bold language, and self-sufficient look told me that he trusted in himself, and that his heart glowed not in gratitude to the grent Giver of the blessings he enjoyed. I visited a sick man on his couch of affliction ; his countenance was pale, and his body wasted by disease. He was-as feeble as a child, and could not sit upright without being supported by pillows; but the Bible lay beside him; his lips at times moved in prayer; his looks were resigned and tranquil, and his language was, "God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Psa. 46: 1. I met one who had gained riches, and whose heart was lifted up on account of possessions. Puffed up witn pride he talked scornfully of those who had not fine houses, and full purse, forgetful of the injunction. "If riches increase set not your heart upon them." Psa. 62:10. Set your affections on things above not on things on earth." Col. 2:2. I fell in with a poor man, who worked hard to gain a livelihood for himself and family, No complaint was on his lips when I asked after his welfare. He was thankful for health that enabled him to labor and nraised God for the daily mercies he enjoyed. I reflected on what I had heard and seen, and pondered on the characters that had occupied my attention. Two of them possessed what most of us desire, while the others seemed lowly and of little estimation. I compared the healthy and the rion witn tne sick and the poor, and the advantage was greatly on sideof the cast down and thelowly. The depressed felt their own weakness, and trusted in the strong for strength, while the Eroud and puffed up, leaning on uncertain ealth and riches were unfit to encounter adversity, and still more so to meet tbeir latter end. They were poor when they believed themselves rich; they were weak while they fancied themselves strong. And can it be that man, proud man, vaunting himself on his intelligence, can fall into such an error as to think himself wise when he is foolish,rich when he is poor, and strong when he Is perfect weakness/ Even so. But now, reader, put the question to thyself, and ask if this error be thine. Art thou trusting in thine own strength.and putting confidence in aught below the skies? Or knowest thou, of a truth, that thy life, with all that It involves. is "a vapor that appeareth for a little time, and then vanishefh away?" Jas. 4: 14, Put thy trust in Him only who changes not, . but is the same "yesterday, today and forever." Heb. 13: 18. TrusUin a prince his word shall fall; In friends, and they shall die: In health, and wealth, and world's regard, Alas how soon they fly! Trust thine own heart, 'tis faultless all; Thy life, 'tis insecure; But he who trusteth in the Lord, Forever shall endure. SEEING EACH OTHEB AS WE ABE. One great cause of the infelicities of life among the best people, is their failure to fully understand and appreciate all the influences that enter into their conduct The natures and feelings are misconstrued. In the most intimate and endearing of all relations?that of husband and wife?there is' ofttn an wholly unnecessary and sad coldness and even an alienation of feeling from this cause. Of differect temperament and make up constitutionally, in a different line of Christian experience and grade of spirit uality of mind one moving largely amid the the giant forces of evil and the rivalries of business, becomes inbabituated to sterner forms of aotions and expressions of feeling, which the other in the more quiet, loving ana tender associations of culture and meditation interprets as loss of sympathy and weakening of heart-felt love, while there is a deeper and growing affection could they see each other ?is they are. Let death step in and take either from their side and the one left will tell you if they disclose their true feelings, that they never realized before how much they loved and what excellencies of character there were in the one departed which they failed to appreciate from leaviDg out of view their position and circumstances. Thus it Is In various forms in all the associations of life. If the Marthas and Marys could know each other as they are, Martha would not be grieved at her sister's comparative indifference to the conventionalities of life when they could enjoy the Instructions of her Lord and Master, and the Marys would appreciate all their sisters' desires to show their interest in Christ by every act of attention possible to be shown for his comfort. If the Peters and Johns could know each other as they are, the Peters would more apnreciate their quiet trustful spirit, and Johns would more admire the naturally bold and some:imee Impetuous spirit aDd zeal of the Peters for their Lord. If the Pauls and Barnabuses could know each other as they are, the Pauls would probably not so spitefully reprove the Barnabuses for their attachment to their home duties and friends in preference to exposing themselves to persecutions among those so ill prepared to receive the Gospel, and the Barnabuse! would more honor the Pauls and thank God for the grace and constraining love for Christ that enabled them to sacrifice cheerfullj every earthly comfort and even life in the cause of Christ, and for the salvation of their fellow men.?Bel. Herald. the question. The sceptical Mr. Brap augh was once lecturing in a village in the north of England, and at the close challenged discussion. Who should accept the challenge but an old, bent woman, Id the most antiquated attire, who went up to the lecturer and said, "Sir, I have a question to put to you." "Weil, my good woman, what is it?" "Ten years ago," she said, "I was left a widow, with eight children utterly unprovided for, and nothing to call my own but this Bible. By it* direction, and looking to God for strength, I have been enabled to feed myself and my family. 1 am now tottering to the grave; but I am perfectly happy, because I look forward to a life of immortality with Jesus in heaven. That's what my religion has done for me. What has your way of thinking done for you?" "Well, my good lady," rejoined the lecturer, "I don't want to disturb your comfort; but" ?"Oh! that's not the question," interposed the woman; "keep to the point, sir.' What has your way of thinking done for you?" The infldel endeavored to shirk the matter again, the feeling of the meeting gave vent in uproarious applause, and Mr. Bradlaugh had to go away discomfited by an old woman. ?The Lutheran. A poor, crippled woman, living in a tiny room on the ground uoor 01 a clingy house, could only move on her hands and knees, and had not stood upright for fifteen years. A lady visiting the sufferer was pitying her for her inability to do anything in the world. While she spoke, two merry little children clattered into the room and seated themselves by the scrap of fire. "Do these little children belong to you?" asked the lady. ' No, ma'am," was the reply, "they are my neighbor's children; she's just a poor washerwoman, and I look after lier little ones to set her free to get a job of work. I can do just that, you see, thank the Lord."?Exchange. 1101a JUSl lO IUVI-. XI llicu rnu.g ?w... ......... lot tboin not eotiror embitter it: let them not shut up or narrow it; let them only expand it more and more, and be always able to say with St. Paul, ".My heart is enlarged."?F. Yt. liobertson. Save Your Old Straw Ifats. One uuexpectod result of the war in the East, which will bring it homn perhaps to our own people, is described in a report to the State Department from United States /"I ?.,1 Ut innnharn Ofipflllinv. H? said The straw-plaiting industry. with it? seat la Dresden, Saxony, is butjinnin:? to feel the effects of the war in Eastern Asia. The straw hat manufacturers usually draw their material, put up into straw braids, from China and Japan. The blockading of the ports from which these braids were exported has caused a scarcity and higher prices of the raw material Manufacturers are beginning to look for other sources from which fo supply their demands, and expect to be on the spring markets-having nothing better? with home products. ''' ;; i ;.K;' SABBATH SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOR DECEMBER 2. Lesson Text: "Christ's Testimony ta John," Luke vil., 24-35?Golden Text: Luke vil., 27? Commentary. 24. Ind when the messengers of John were departed He began to speak unto the people concerning John. What went ye ont into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken with the wind?" It is possible that this lesson precedes in the order of events the lesson of last week. John, from tie prison into which Herod had put him (Mark vL. 17; Math. vi.. 2). had sent messengers to Jesus to inquire if He were the Chrirt. Jesus wrought mira3les before them and said they should tell John w+iat they had seen and heard, and add. "Blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in Me." Then Jesus begins to talk to the people about John and asks them if he was like a reed shaked with the wind, a weak one easily blown about. 25. "But what went ye out for to see? A man clothed in soft raiment? Behold they which are gorgeously appareled and live delicately are in kings' courts." They knew John did not indulge in fine clothes nor luxurious living, but as it is written. "The same John had his raiment of camel's hair and a leathern girdle about his loins, and his meat was locust and wild honey" (Math. Hi., 4). He sought not earthly comforts nor self indulgence,#but 'lived to make known and point oat the Lamb of God, who taketh awflv the sins of thfi world. PTn A id nnfc oaaIt any greatness for himself (John L, 29; Jer. rlv., 5). 26. "But what went ye out for to see? A. prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and much more than a prophet." The father of John, filled with the Holy Spirit, after the birth of the child had said, "And thon, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest, for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways" (Luke L, 76). A prophet was not necessarily one who predicted iuture events, but rather one wh9 spoke for God. 'Abraham is the first one oalled a prophet in the Scriptures (Gen. xx., 7), but ne uttered no predictions, yet he was God\i representative. See Aaron, the prophet or spokesman for Moses (Ex. lv.,1; vii., 1). 27. "This Is He of whom it is written, Behold. I send My messenger before Thy face, which shall prepare Thy way before Thee. The Spirit, through Malachi, had said this some 400 years before (Mai. ill., 1), and. about 300 years before Malachi the same Spirit had said through Isaiah that a voice would cry in the wilderness, " "Prepare ye the way of the Lord" (Isa. xl., 3). How rtlnn?> ? H./VA la / ? a?/1 n?*/l 11 I voui IV V4VSV1 ia lug ouu auu an UO Dioyo that lead to it from the very beginning, and He says, "My counsel shall stand, and I will do all My pleasure" (Isa. xlvL, 10). 28. "For I say unto you, Among those are bo:n of women there Is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist, but he that is least in the kingdom of God is greater than be." Gabriel said of him, "He shall be great in the sight of the Lard and shall drink neither wine nor strong drink, and he shall be filled with the Holy Spirit even from his mother's womb" (Luke 1., 15). Although h? was permitted by God to languish and die in prison, yet he ceased not to be great in the sight of the Lord. 29. "And all the people that heard Him and the publicans justified God, being baptized with the baptism of John." All who honor the messenger of God by believing and obeying His word thus honor God (Math, x., 10), but those who reject the message and the messenger dishonor God and make Him & liar because they believe not His message (ItTohn v., 10). 80. "But tan Pharisees and lawyers reIected the counsel of God against themselves, leing not baptized of Him." In chapter xvi., 14, it is written that "they derided Him, and He said unto them, "Ye are they which justify yourselves beiore men, but God knoweth your hearts, for that which is highly esteemediamong men is abomination in the sight of God." The heart Is deceitful and desperately wicked, and none can thoroughly know it but God (Jer. xvii., 9,10); therefore His word of trust must be against it, and to reject the truth of God against ourselves proves us children ofthe derlL 31. "And the Lord said, Whereunto then shall I liken the men of this generation? And to what are they like?" He was ever finding analogies in nature and in people. He called Himself a vine, a door, a shepherd, the light, the way, the truth, the life. Ho compared the present condition of affairs. called the mystery of the kingdom, to a mustard tree, heaven, etc. He said through Hosea, "I have multiplied visions and used similitudes by the ministry of the prophets" (Hos. xii., 10). 32. "They are like unto children sitting in the market place and calling one to another and saying: We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced. We have mourned to you, and ye have not wept." The children could not please their fellows,and nuither Johnnor nUnun tknt o A m 1 f ar nil a rronorfl. O eaus UUUiU pirtxoo uni auunvtw 0w?v?w tion. But they did not try. They sought only to please God, and they did it. Tho Father testified from Heaven that He was well pleased with Jesus (Moth, iii., 17; xvit, 5), and Jesus has just borne good testimony to John in this our lesson. 33. ''For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and ye say that he hath a devil." The Spirit through Isaiah wrote that In his day he that departed from evil was accounted mad (Iaa. llx., 15, margin), and through Hosea: "The prophet is a fool. The spiritual man is mad" (Hos. ix., 7). Since the days ot Cain men of God like Abel have been accounted beside themselves and not flt to live?fit only to be cot off from the land of tho living (Jer, xi., 19). 34. "The Son of man is come eating and. drinking, and ye say, Behold a gluttonous man and a wine bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners." Truly "the carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can b? (Rom. viii., 7). Let us not grieve nor take it amiss if for His sake we are called unreasonable and uncalled for names. And if the things attributed to Him are the very | farthest from the possibility of our doing the fellowship with Jesus is all the oloser. Let I us never seek to please people, but evei study to show ourselves approved unto Go<L ambitious to be well pleasing unto Him (U Tim. ii., 15; II Cor. v., 9, R. V., margin). 35. "But wisdom is justified of all he* children." Self-condemnation justifies God, and God justifies those who condemn them* selves. It is only when we take the place ol the guilty, accepting God's testimony againsl us and receiving Jesus as our righteousness, that wo are justified in His sight. All such honor Christ, who is the wisdom of Godf and He honors all such by making them ao> Cepted in Him (I Cor. i., 24, 30, and Eph. L, c).?Lesson Helper. Disasters to the British Farmer. Lord Winchilsea is calling attention to thai series of unparalleled disasters which have* overtaken tne British farmer of late years. antra onmufhinff hno to hn dona if tha greatest Industry is to be saved irom extinction. This something should take the form of genorous support of the National' Agricultural Union, whose programme includes the readjustment of local taxation,! the abolition of preferential railway rates forj foreign produce, the provision of State-aided: pensions for workingmen, more stringent legislation against fraud and adulteration.! certain improvements in the agricultural holdings act, and power to advance money; on approved security for the occasion ofj small holdings. They also aim at the estab-' lighment of a "produce post" which shall5 bring the small grower of fruit, vegetables, poultry, eggs, etoM into direct relation with the consumer, and foster com~! binations among British farmers similar to those which have enabled foreigners to supersede them in their own markets by supplying articles of uniform appearance and; quality. His Lordship refers to recent sue-: cessful experiments in the way oi raising! 6ugar beets. Alaska Reindeer. According to a report brought back from Alaska by the B9riug Sea fleet, the reindeer! taken to taut Territory several years n?o uy Government officials are increasing so rapidly that in a few years they will be numer-j ous enouch to relieve the Government from; the necessity of supplying the natives withj food. The beginning of the work consistedj in the bringing of sixteen of the animaisj from Siberia by the General Agent of Eiu<^ cation for the Territory. His efforts an tracted the attention or Congress, and ant appropriation was made by moans of which' he was enabled to get 180 more reindeer and' to obtain two Siberian herders to look alta# them* ' ..-ii