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fcMRiH rfri n.u 10 THE LUTHERAN VISITOR January CflUldcett and ^outR. DO A KINDNESS. Do a kindnesii, do it well; Angels will the story tell. Do a kindness, tell it not; Angel hands will mark tne spot * Do a kindness, though ’tls small; Angel voices sing it all. Do a kindness; never mind 1 What yon lose the angels find. Do a kindness, doit now; Angels know it all somehow. Do a kindness any tlmJ; Angels weave it into rhyme. Do a kindness—it will pay; Angels will rejoice that day. Kindly deeds ard thoughts and words Bless the world like songs of birds. . —Exchange. A YOUNG MISSIONARY. The following story, which is a true one, is told by Cyrus Ham* lin, a Christian missionary in Syria, and shows how in early life he showed a missionary spir it. “In my boyhood days the greatest event of the season was the autumn muster. Every boy who went to the muster had his money to buy K' n tf er ^ re< td on that g™&t ( ] a y, “It was a bright September morning. My mother gave me seven cents to buy gingerbread, and'a cent then would buy a pretty large piece. 1 was think ing how I could spend all that money in one day, when my mo ther said, ‘Perhaps, Cyrus, you will put a cent or two in Mrs. Karris’ contribution box as you go by.’ “As I went along 1 kept think ing [my mother said a cent a two. I wished she had told me to put in one cent or two cents, but there it was: ‘Perhaps, Cyrus, you will put in a cent or two.’ As I turned it over in my mind during the first mile of my walk, I thought, ‘Well, I will put in two cents.’ Then I began to rea son with myself, ‘How would that look? Two cents for the heathen and five cents for ginger bread.’ It did not satisfy my’ ideas very well, because we al ways read the missionary news at our house and my conscience was tender on the subject. Two cents.did not look right, and so I thought I would put three cents into the box. “I went along for a time very comfortably after T had come to this decision. But by-and-by the old reasoning came back to me, ‘Pour cents for gingerbread and three cents for the souls of the heathen.’ How was I to get rid of that? I thought I would change it for four for the heathen and three for gingerbread. No body could complain of that. Then I thought of the other boys who would be sure to ask, ‘How many [cents have you got to spend?’ and I should be ashamed ifT only had had three cents. I wished mother .had given me six cents oreightcents. Then I could have divided it evenly, but now I did not know what to do. “I got to to Mrs. Farris’ house and went in. I remember just how I felt. I got hold of my seven cents and thought, ‘I might as well drop them all in and then there will be no trouble,’ and so I did. “After that I was well satisfied with what I had done, but about noon I began to be hungry. I kept shy of the gingerbread stand. I went off where the sold iers were having their dinner, and wished somebody would* throw me a bone. “I stood it without a mouthful till four o’clock, and then started for home. As I reached home I cried, ‘I am as hungry as a bear; I have not eaten a mouthful all day.’ “Why, Cyrus, where is the money I gave you?’ “Mother, you did not give it to me right. If you had given me six cents or eight cents, I could have divided it; but I could not divide seven cents and so I put it all in the missionary box.” We are not surprised that this boy became a missionary him self.—Morning Light. DARE TO SEEM “QUEER ” The hardest thing in the world for little people is to be “queer.” If “everybody does it,” they have no more thought of violating that precedent than if it were a phy sical impossibility. Boys who are afraid to be laughed at need the story of Daniel retold for their benefit. Young married people who live beyond their means and are harassed by their debts be cause their neighbors with no better income live thus might spend some time in the study of Daniel’s mode of life with profit. Members of social organizations who loathe strong drink but drink because they “can’t afford to seem singular” will find in the same series of lessons something worthy of attention. Members of churches moving from the country into the city must either bring their godly habits with them or adopt those of the first circles into which they drop. Which would Daniel have done? The fact is that more char acters are ruined by moral cow ardice than in any other way. Are you invited to “try a game of cards” by a stranger? “It is so hard to say no!” Your views of duty are “so old-fashioned.” They may be pretty good for all that. You have “the last gener ation’s theory about the Sabbath” and “the views that were held two hundred years ago about the Bible.” WHY SHE TRUSTED HIM. The lady of the house was standing in the vestibule, an anxious eye down the street. “Are there no boys in sight?’’ asked a voice from within. “Yes, plenty of boys on the street, but you know how par ticular I am about Pet. I should like to be sure that the boy who rides her will not be rough with her.” Just then a sturdy young fel low of ten came whizzing by on a bicyle. It was not his own, but one that its owner was generous enough to lend to the boys who had none, and ho was taking his turn while the other boys lay on the grass and played jackstones, wishing as he rode along, “My! if I only had a wheel for my trip to the farm!” Just then he suddenly straight ened himself up. “Ting-a-ling-ling!” rang out the bell of the bicycle sharply, and as he slowed up the other boys half rose and looked wonder- ingly. They could see nothing to ring for. “What was it, Dick?” they de manded. “Oh, nothing but a sparrow. I was afraid I’d run over it; the little thing stood so still right in front of the wheel.” “Ho, ho! Rings his‘ bell for a sparrow!” sneered the other boys as Dick dismounted. “Mamma’s itty, witty baby.” “I don’t care how much you make fun of me,” he replied, good-naturedly, yet not without a red flush on his brow. “I guess I wouldn’t run over a sparrow, even, when I could help it by ringing or stopping.” “Dick! Come here, please. Dick,” called a voice f doorstep of one of the tw est houses on the avenua| are the very boy I want * a pony to the country anc It is out on the Darlingto evard. Would you like-tc “Why, yes, ma’am,” answered Dick. “I have rand out there, and wa dreading the walk.” “Then I am glad you ma 1 was wondering if I couh one of the boys to be kind; when I overheard about th row. That made me wil trust you.”—Junior Ch Endeavor World. MAKE THE BEST OF WHA HAVE. The children lived in a cabin home, and all thv'h > them—Nell, Rob and Li were taking a gay “makebim ride on an old log. Fido Ja i and barked as if he enjoyjga! fun as much as anybody i 60 * A gentleman who wat •> down the road stopped an ed. v. “Good morning, littl That is rather slow n *pi Wouldn t you like a holtfies carriage?” “Yes, sir,” said Robbi we haven’t any, and so getting the most fun we| of what we do have.” Was not that a wise ^ds How much pleasanter tl would be if all the little' and the big ones, too- stop fretting about the they cannot get, and mal best of what they have.—Lon S. 8. Times. The Minister’! Power. Willie had swallowed a pen and his mother was in a stab much alarm. “Helen,” she cal to her sister in the next roc “send for a doctor. Willie 1 swallowed a penny.” The te fied boy looked up im^wi ’ “No, mamma,” he interpos “send for the minister.” “1 minister!” exclaimed the moth| “Yes, because papa says o minister can get money out anybody.”—Pittsburg Bullet One Minute Late. It makes no difference whether were one minute or one hoar late yon missed the train. Better get tb on time. Colds lead to coughs, jou to pneumonia and eonsnmpt'on: the fore, it is all-important to check a c before it reaches the Inngs. Pe Davis' Painkiller will positively bn a cold inside of twenty four hot There is but one Painkiller, Perry I vis’. n