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Titi- WEEKLY EDITION, WINNSBOE,Q,. S. (,, MAY 319 1887. ;
.Waking the: May Flowers,
Adowu the still and leafless wood,
in gladeoie mood Spring walked one
d'
A thousand sunbeatns round her danced,
A south breeze played about her way,
The aspens quivered 'neath her touch,
And waked to And the winter fled ;
The birches felt a sudden thrill,
The maples donned a misty red.
Whore'er she trod, a tender green
Gleamed all the hills and-vales along,
And at her smile the ice-bound brooks
Awoke and rippled into song.
Where last year's leaves all sere and dry
Within the sunny hollows lay ;
She paused, while witb its balmy breath
The south wind;swelt them far away,
And, nestling there, with fast-olosed buds,
The May flowers lay in dreamlesp sleep,
Where Autumn, with a careful hand
Had hid them 'neath a covering deep.
Then with a sweet and sudden smile,
fSpring bent above Fhe sleeping flowers ;
* Wake, little ones,"'she whispered low,
"Ald tell the world of happy hours."
Beneath her kiss, a dainty pink
Spread o'er their petals, snowy white,
Andi all along the woodland ways
They open their sweet eyes to the light.
THE DANCING GHOST.
If you have ever seen- the gossamer
spider rising in the air of a dewy autumn
morning, hoar and sparkling, and sail
ing away into invisible other, or the
thistle-down blowing before the wind
from nowhere to nowhere, or a foam
wreath full of rainbows where the wave
smites a rock, or a puff of smoke out
rolling and vanishing into thin air, you
have seen something that might resem
ble Annie Estray's dancing, if anything
in dull nature could beas hght, as.airy,
as instinct with. animate grace, as every
nielting movement of this young crea
ture was.
Dancing so entirely as if it were na
tural to her as flying" to 9 bird or blow
ing to the wind, and every other mode
of motion were something constrained,
ypu may be sure, she loved to dance to
nusic' and in all the rush and excite
ment.of the ballroomn;. and she danced
through the year like a .little iiarsh
light and swampflre in human slape -at
the Springs, at Newport, at Bar Island,
the summer long, and from house to
house, from rout to rout, the winter
through. An heiress, lovely, arrayed
like a young queen; she had no lack of
partners, but she cared nothing person
ally for any of them; one day she should
marry, of course, a cousin probably;
they all married cousins in her family
and kept the property together; it
wouldn't matter whether he danced or
not, for people clidn't dance with their
husbands. But the others-she rated
and valued all men according to their
capacity as dancers only; they might be
Shakespeares or Sydneys'cr simpletons,
it mattered not-did they reverse easily
was the arm strong, the foot sure, the
ear for music keen, could they carry
their partner well, with a clear head,
guide the motion and lead the figure?
(if not, then they were useless to her,
hlough they could move worlds. But
9' such accomplishments were theirs,
hat was all she wished of them. For
~e rest she cotild do her part; and her
3rt was ecstasy.
You may imagine, then, with what
flor she pursued it, what toilettes she
>re, what color and light and grace
~l.ed about her; dancing like a but
liy before the, wind, like a bubble,on
liver, unCon'scious6df all the admir
eyes that followed-dancing for the
h:e love of the delicious movement,
yevery muscle and fibre of her body
)onsive to the rhythm of the music
iplaying out the tune. Seldom
pking much, flashing from the arms
pine partner to another; flushed,
rheated, 'i-avnging the Ices and
nig off the champagne cupi served
the floor, and never resting till far
the morning, the music hushed
~he last peremptory summons came
daylight dappling the east; and
siuddenly all the fire falling, the
~becoming wvhite, the eyes heavy
~lark purple circles, the step lan
It was very evident that she wvas
hgoutI her vital flame with an in
y thlat presently could leave noth
tashes.
,o sure she had plenty of com
hs in this whirl of the winter's
;many of them stronger, rosier,
iller currenWi bounding in their
but' not one of them tihe mad
that she wais herself. They
,me of them of the, old, well-fed
ely-married families; .others of
v blood, lately enriched with
id spices, and pmot yet befouled
o much of them; and others
e herself, of long inte1trnarried
roud of their taint, and where
~stem had spindled to a thread.
fn of these the pollen dust of
itor's incipient disease had not
~the gern in another's; full of
vigor, they could dance up to the line I
of endurande of nerves and brain and
body, and beyond it.. Those others, of
whom Anne Estray ;was one, could
dance up to it; but to them it was the
dead lirie-one step beyond it and no
more dancing-for them all was over. "
o inore dancing! When the physi.
clan who was called to the fair, frail
creature one morning, after the most
intoxicating cotillon of the year, utter-.
*ed the fiat, the great eyes opened like a
pair or stars out of twilight, and a little
color crushed itself on the white cheek.
"Oh, but I shall dance!" she whispered.
"I shall have to be very plain with
-you, then,", said the pl' ician. "You
have lieen+>nder a sfQirn whose break
at last has given you a mortal blow.,
You may pos ibly, with the greatest
care, repair its. effects and- live for
twenty years ,to come; or you may die
after one moi'e' cotillon, provided you
had the dtrength tb go throtigh the
figure. What? You shake your head!
You persist? Do you. suppose there Is
much blood lett in your body, after all
that has but lately bubbled out of your
silp? You have no flesh; you are al
most transparent to-day. You have but
a thread of vitality. Neither flesh nor
blood, nor vitality-what have you?"
"I have nerve," murmured she, with
emphasis, if not with voice. "That
thread would hold a start 1 have an
indomitable spirit! I will not disap
point it. I shall go to the' masquerade
next Tuesday week," she ' gasped, "if
I have to go as a ghostl Now All you
have to do, doctor, is to build me up."
There was in truth, such an indomit
able spirit in the thing with that vital
thread, that the doctor had no choice
but to obey as best he could. But, in
spiri '6f,his endeavors, the little crea
ture's rallyingipowers refused tO meet
his medicaments, and she failed visibly.
She did not lose the run of the days,
for all that, anc she issued her orders
for her dress, and she had a feverish
eagerness to know what others were to
wear, especially one youth whose step
quite suited her own. "I shall dance
with him and he shall never roaui
who I a'm7" she said, huskily, with her
cheeks-burning and her eyes glitteringg
"He is going as Lucifer, Son of t/
Morning; how perfectly glorious! .1
have found it out, you see. He will be
glittering in silver mail, with a star on
his casque, I am going as bhelley's
Cloud!" She insisted on being dressed
every day, and on being led up and
down the room. "Oh, when the time
cohes I shall be all right!" she said.
"It's of no use to light my fires till
then." No one contradicted her.
Her dress had come -home on the
morning of the great ball; she had tried
it on with some flickering strength, and
had ordered a slight alteration to be
made. It was a corselet and undress
netted with bits of mother-of-pearl,
softly glittering in faint reflections of
innumerable colors, and over it was a
profusion of flowing tulle, held together
and literally streaming with pearls and
opals and moonstones. So Shelley's
Cloud; indeed, might stream and glit
ter when the moon's beami kissed it.oni
a mountain side, and suffused its roll
ing fleece with bloom ant'l splendor. It
tired her, perhaps, when she tried it on
a second time, after the gas jets were
lighted. "I will niot take it off again,"
she murmuired. "Just lift all this tulie
round 'me in the chair so that it shall
not be crushed., And you might take
the jewels off till by and by-they are
so heavy." And that done, her head
drooped a little on one side and she fell
asleep.
It was a strange dream .that Anne
Estray had in that sleep of hers. The
moonlight seemed to fall into the room,
gilding everything with frosty silver;
and in the broad beam there stood all
at once a great shape-white, still,
towering and mighf,y. "Oh!" she said,
"What are you doing here? What do
you want?"
"You!" said1 the shape. And she
thrilled as one does to great music.
"L?-I? 'What do you want with
me?" she cried, hoarsely. "0! who are
you?"
"I am your friend," he said, smiling
,own gently uipon her. The best of all
your friends. I afi~ the Angel of
Death."
"Death! Death! Oh, how cold you
are! You have come for me!"
"To take you for my own."
'But I am not ready! I have had nio
idea of it! Why, I am'going to the
masquerade to-night! I am to be Shel
ley's Cloud.'.
"You are to be a cloud," he said,
softly. "You are 'to resolve again into
the elements. You will be the drp of
dew in the violet's cup, the bloom on
thie globe of the grape, the river, the
mist rising from it and fleeting into
ether. You wvill be a, cloud soon
enough."
"Oh, hot that sort of a cloudl Not
real one."
"As real as you like."
"But tonight.-oh, kind angel, there
are so many who would like to go with
you, and I-I want to stay!".
"Those sighing dreatures? It is you
that I wish, not the."
"But I love to dance so-and peoplc
who die-you know how exceedingly
inconvenient it must be to fit one>s
dress over vings! In fact, I don't see
how it can be Rlono at all. And 'm;y
dress is perfect. Oh, you ought .to see
it! It is idehl I And you never saw
me dance! And I am to dance wit1g
him, in his silver mail, and the star
shining In his casque. You don't know
anything about dsncing; and, yet, I
have heard of the dance of death. Our
dancing is a sort of etherehl buoyancy,
too. It is to be as a bird is, only to
fly, to sing to melody, and measure. I
love to dance. Oh, why do you look at
me so? You frighten mel Don't, don't
clasp my wrist! You are like ice--you
make me shiver, and I have just had a
hemorrhage, and it won't do, you know I
Oh! Must I go? Can nobody help me?
Are you stronger than all of them?
Oh, angel, dear angel of death, spare
me; earth is so-sweet, life is so precious,
my life is so delightful my daiicing
oh just for to-night then' only to
night!" And in her drejm her voice
rose ap tug14g1c ail fell back im
botoiiWin her itlroat.'.
".lor .to-niglit F6r to-nigllt, until
the stroke of 'twelvd then," said the
Rrat frost-white hhape. ," I4-I will
se you later." And the. bread moon
boani fell emptily on 'th tuipe' leugs,
and heke was Io'ona in the foin put
Anne Istfray-if thdt vere shlif dded,
In the chair where her dream had just
ended, asleep, her head falleii a little on
one side. Things look so very differ
ently, so unreal to the eye, by mQon
light.
"The music Is crashing from the bal
cony built behind the ball-room, in its
forest- of. palms and fernr and huge
o ange trees; and the air is bewildering
th the -breath of the roses that gar
and the %'alls; of the s' planotis, tle
azalias, th dsthie, tile ffotropes,
the carnations, that are bedded on man
tel and console, that swing from chan
deliers, that festoon the lintels, that
line the passage-ways, laughing voices
tinkle in tune to the tinkle of harpstring
and piccolo; strange, lovely forms move
in measure; a flower girl, whose skirte
inclose her like the petals of a rose,
slides along In the arms of Euroclydon;
a sea nymph, in her pale green gaizea
and her shells, skims by with a winged
Mercury; Opholia hangs upon King
Lear as If he were her willow tree;
Psyche and Eros flash by together; all
sorts of fantastical figures are wafted
along by the breath of the music, glow
ing, halt transported with the deli
ciousness of the flowers, the melody' of
blowing horns and flutes and of sharl
violin striigs; smiling, gay, warm with
life and all the joy of the senses. But
there is one dancer that, looking on the
scene, you would miss; you would know
her in any disguise, for there is no dan
Cer In the town to compare with her;
when she is on the floor all .other-s seem
heavy, and slow-and inert. She islate
amh, no-there she is nowi She Is a mist
of tulle, wvrapped in it, veiled with it,
surrounded by its flowing folds, herself
hardly seen for its airy circumambi
c,as she hovers there one moment,
waiting the approach- of tha~t form in
Its shining suit of. .silver scale-armor,
with the great star burning In the cas
riue, the form that looks like one of
Fiaxman's outlines filled with life, and
blood and strength. It is Lucifer; she
melts Into his arms, as a cloud might
melt upon a pine, as a wave upon a
rock, a moment pausing for the turn of
the tune, and then swinging away on
Its tide. Does she hear thme band, as it
beats and sings out the wild strains of
the dance-music than which -none pul
sates with a keener pathos or lea'ves a
sadder echo in the heart? Does she
see the twikle of the wax-lights, the
sweep of the crowd, the colors, the
lowels, the lustres? Does she p)erceive
the perfumes with which the air is rich
Emd sweet, essence and attar, the aroma
of wvines, the breath of the abundant
blossoms all about her, and that p)ierce
the brain now with delight and now
with bettor memories? She does not
wear the opals and moonstones: 'they
are too heavy; but under all: the diabpha
nious swirl of the drapery~ pie glitters
with a strange, fait irideScencoe, ya soft
phosphorescent glow, that barely out.
lines her, or otherwise, backed: by the
shield and spear which Lwsifer bears,
you might think her only some artnful
of sheer lawns and pzes blown about
him. She :doeA not , speak--if this., ini
deed, is she; she karely hias much to say
in this affair. of dancing; one would not
have the breath to: peak in this habetu,
ous sweep and swingr. this wild, 8wifn
lowing, like a leaf on the wind, like a
ave chased by stor.n. A cold air
"s ' ma to follow after them;, the slowly
9.imming dancers turn to gate, with
if alariped 'nd half-delighted woti
r; as they pa sdthe, people pause, as
though appiritlons were ,flashing b'
hile the music b ats out ;the wii d
ungarian modulations the two. sw
by the flowing andenoiroliiig4auW,,
seem but a cloud driven by a gale; wild
wail the- violins, deep, deep and riCh
. ugh winding ways -the oboes a'ind
b ns reply, the . flutes sigh, -th8
, s sing 'like hutnan voices; <bWeet
h ad and Aiange the time Awells |id
r .with its passion; and now the
tilae falls more gently, the motion gro*s
slower, they drift along softly, and on
ttfd'last sighing of the melody the clan g
of a midni hll frni some neai
towei'be ito''txI} ft;ied by
the mtlmet
and ' ou itant
voic ofoncalled an e other
c44M'a voice of rYieasured, 'tol g sl
l bles. 4, seisei bf ohill preeps ovr the
youth in its silverrmor; through all
the war47 and luxurious atmosphere
and the 1(eat' of the headlong dance, a
chill so u otmtablie that it terrifies
him and seemd to:dpolo his blood; he
is taking the last 4ps, h'e is about to
open his arsd and elease his partner,
when lo! there ;is pOthing in them.
W. pped "in her clond,'of tulle -a" mo
tj since she wyas there; li % t' as a
p~Of1>apor he is gone,
t hom e o 'broad ,lonbeam
thati loore rournad ve id her,
Anne Estray is sitting Where her peo
p ,eft her---where rneny.times since
tih ,ve 6irept in noiselesly, fearing
tur ller slee4lher'head fallen a
1itl b ridosde, a blight, scarlet stain
besj 17 ber; Iuouth, but ,deadi quite
dead. "Why are you not in the cotil
In, Son of the Morning?" asks the
White Lady of" Hohenzollorn of the
ilgufe in shining -armor leaning against
the doatWay.
"Disaster," answers Lucifer, who
meet4 the White Lady every- day at
homv , "Since that last dancq myj.ir s
haube m the.Quld6Dr )
when the organ struck its key-note?
That is the way I have been feeling
ever since that last dance with- Anne
Estray. By the way, what has become
of her?"
"Haven't you heard? What are you
talking about?; Have you had too
much champagne? I shodid -think your
wits were numb instead of your arms!
Anne Estray''has . not been here to
night. Word was just whispered about
here, brought by some one-Anne Es
tray was found dead in her chair at
home a half an hour ago, "
"Anne Estray? Impossible! She was
hero; I was dancing with her at that
very time."
"You. have mistaken some!, one else
for her."
"Do you suppose I have been Anne
Estray's partner all winter not to know
her touch, her shape, her step? She
was herel She was in my arms; she
melted out of them. If-it wasn't Anne
Estray, who was it? Dead, is she?
A re you sure of it? Quite sure. Great
God, Marion, has Anne lEstray nothing
else to do through all eternmty? No
wvonder I am cold and numb. Don't
you, see?", throwing wide his empty
arms again. "I have been dancing with
her ghosit I "
O.nions for'the Nerves.
*"Onions aire about the best ne'rve
remedy .known," says a physician.
"No piedicine is so eflicacious in cases of
nervous prostration. Their absorbett
powers are also most valuable, especially
in times of'epidemic. It has repeatedly
been observed that an omion patch in
the immediate vicinity of a house acts
as a shield against the pestilence, which
id very apt to pass over the inmates of
that house. Sliced onions in a sick
room absorb all the germs and prevent
contagion. During an esiidemic, the
confIrmed onion-eater should, however,
eschew his usual diet, as the genns of
disease are present in the onion, and
contagion can easily result.
Ages of Crowned Heads.
IIere arc the ages on Janupmry 1, 1887,
of vaious crowned heads, qtc. --The
Emperor' of' Germauiy', 89; The Pope,
Leo XIIIL, 76; William III., King of
the NQtherlands, 69; Charles IIL., Prince
of Monaco. 08; Victoria, Queen of Great
Britain, 07; Peter II., Emperor of Bra
211, 01; 1Frenc$s Joseph,' Erlnjetor of
Austria, 50; Leopold, King df 'the Bl
glans, 51; Louis, King of Portugal, 48;
Charles, King of TRo'unania, 47; Abdtal
Hlaid, the Sultan, 44; Hlumbert, King
of Italy, 42; Al'exantler ;'I.1 Erztperor
of Russia, 42; Geotge, Kink of4 the
Greelse, 41; Milan,:King of Servla, 32;
the Kingr of Snain, a few months.,
HELIPUi MOTHElRS.
Remarkable Men Who Owed Much or
Their Greatness to Early Educa
tion.
It is a terrible mistake when mothers
do too. muel for their children, yet it
is very difficult to draw the line be,
tween, that -ind proper consideration
for. theirwants,and, comforts. It ip so
natural to be antoipattng for them,
pnd ,ingled %Yt%h the foling there is,
perhaps,. a little selfishness, for the
mgthex pinot help wishing that if she
shouldibe taken from her little, ones,
that,they may be able to look back on
the time 'when she eared for them as
One of unXnixed 'comfort and happiness.
A mother whose heart remains young
is. an incalculable blessing, to her chil
dren; she can enter into their games
and be a child with them, she is the
playfellow of her girls, and, as they
grow older, is'ahbbst like their elder
sister;,and if lie have sons, there is a
camaraderfe between them and her
which makes.home the most delightful
place in the world, and "mother" the
most charming of comlianions. It was
thus ,with Uoethe, the German poet,
his mother's first-born son, who came
to be her plaything and pleasure long
before she was out of her teens. She
was a gel al, social, and, withal, clever
woman, :nd always maintained that
the bond between herself and her boy
owned its strength to the fact that "my
Wolfgang and I were young together,"
A mother's authority ought to . be
marked by a -sweet reasonableness.
The children, when old enough to com
preliend more than the bare duty of
implicit obedience, should be convinced
that a ll her rules and regulations are
bas.dl on sound principles, and have
their welfare for their aim and end.
Thus, a young girl of fifteen, invited to
forth one of a large party in a country
house, where every one was, older than
herself, adhered to her mother's rule
that she was always to go to bed at
nine o'clock. No matter what fun was
going on, what temptation was held
At g cnduce lie tp,y ten minutes
QigerM e .s. gern4yAh$exible,, and
would say, smilina:- "Mother told me
nbvet to stay up after nine; it wouldn't
be good for me."
Many r.emarkable men have had re
markable mothers. The first Napoleon
never forgot his allegiance to . his
mother, Lucretia Bonaparte, who has
been called the Cornelia of her day.
She was a woman' who practiced "plain
living and high thinking," and, though
her son's works bore two meanings, his
tribute to her worth was heartfelt when
lie reiterated, with the deepest convic
tion. "France wants mothers!"
Johi Wesley, who wag the twelfth of
nineteeij ghildren, loved his niother so
dearly that wien he was a young man
at-,Oford, he used to pray that he
might never survive her. And; many
years afterwards, when word was
brought him, at Bristol, that she was
dying, he ordered his horse to be
brought to the door of the chapel where
he was preaching in Broadimead, and
rode on all night, never drawing rein
till he reached Moorfields. Some one
inade a remar'k to him about his haste
and anxiety, and he answered: "Ahm,
I can never have another mother."
*WOMEN AS INVENTORS.
Witnesses to Theli' Ingenuity Pomiud
'in the Patent Offide.
The' worlil has not giveh wvonieeh due
credit for hierin'veiytive iculties, writes
a Washington correspondent.., Few
persons realize what an important role
she is Illaying-in the designing of num
etous -articles, useful as well as orna
mental. The record of the patent
office shows that fully 190O,patents afe
claimed by women. Moreover, not a
small number of the patents granted to
men are really for ingenious devices
and ideas that have originated in a fem
inine brain. ' The women of New York
have been granted more patents than
their sisters In any other state. The
women of Massachusetts, Ohio, Indi
ana and Wisconsin rank next in order.
In machinery, wvomen have done much.
Almost daiWly mprovements in sewing
machies come from her brains. In
the model room of the patent office,
nearly -side by side with Elhas Howe's
machine, is one made by Miss 1Rosen
thai. It is a handy little contrivance
Wvhich can be put in a lady's pocket
and screwed on- to any ordinary table.
It Is so dainty, it looks fit for t)ue .work
room' of a fairy. It will be a boon to
persons travelling where it is impossi..
ble to take a large mnachine. Machinists
pigQnoUmee it pract;icilly perfect in con
struption, but it has not yet been put
tipon the market.
The first submarine telescope was the
production of Mrs. Sarah I. Mather of
New TQrk.. rs., Montgoynery shows
a secton et a~ war vessel provfded with
a series of iron plates so constructed as
to resist shot and shell. There is also
in the model room an engine of offence,
as well as defence, in the shape of a
breech loading gun credited to Miss
Ruth Goshen. Among the more peace
tul inventions by vomen are a car
coupling pin and an improved railway
for street cars. A life raft is a contri
vance of a Mrs. Beaseley. - An appli
ance for raising sunken" vessels has
been pnt4nted 'by Mra. Tihily Taney
of Pennsylvania. She has also contrived
a syphon propeller pump. Mrs. rrack
elton of Milwaukee claims to have made
200 women self-supporting by means of
a useful little portable kiln for firing
decorated china. This can be attached
to any gas pipe, and is an improvenlent
on the usual method of heating, afford
ing a much more equable' temperatbre.
Miss Mary Broughton of New York
discovered a new mode of forming air
chambers in dental plates' for artificial
teeth. Miss Amelia Bird desired to
make a noise in the world, and her
genius soared to steam whistles. Mrs.
Caroline Brooks of Arkansas has pat
ented some lubricating moulds in plas
ter. Mrs. Brooks will be remembered
as the butter artist at the Centennial,
her lovely creation of Iolanthe attract
ing -much attentioo. She now has a
studio in New York.
Mrs. Sarah Ames of Massachusetts
patented the bust of Abraham Lincoln.
Of what the patent right consists does
not clearly appear, as artists generally
consider such things creations rather
than inventions. Mrs. Cornelia Beau
mont of Ohio has a patent lifeboat to
her credit. Mrs. Martha J. Coston has
been very successful with her pyrotech
riic night signals. She is an example
of what pluck and perseverance can do.
At the death of her husband his papers
were in a chaotic condition and his de
signs not fully perfected. Unaided,
she brought them to a point where they
were practically valuable, and she re
mained almost 10 years introducing
then in the various foreign ports. She
has been rewarded for her perseverance
by a fortune. Among the queer in
ventions is an ,instrument for 'restoring
facial symmetry, by Miss Fann,Batch
older of Massachusetts. The numerous
patents granted to women include fire
escapes, dust-brushes, baby-tenders,
devices for killing mosquitoes and other
insects, window-washers, glove-fasten
ers, food-preservers, cow-milkers, dish
washers, washing machines, cooking
stoves, corpse preservers, bustles, face
lotions and all kinds of garments.
The Long Bow in Boys' Books.
It seems to be considered necessary
that the schoolboy of the period should
be supplied with a new story. of . adven
ture for every day in the week. It also
seems to be considered - necessary that
men of genius should be told off to
write them-men who, like Mr. J. Rider
Haggard and Mr. Stevenson, are sorely
needed to produce stories for men and
women. The consequence is that some
of the most picturesque and vigorous
imaginative writing that has been, pro
duced of late yearm is to be foun~d in
such boys' books as "Ktig Solomon's
Mines" and " Treasure Island." , We
are not s,ure that this is entirely a for
tunate circumstance. In novels writ
ten for adult readers it. 1a not enough to
furnish a rapid succession of brilliant
scenes ; these scenes must be accounted
for by that severe logic of the imagin
ation which is as inexorable as the logic
of the schools. But in stories -written
for boys the action moves in entire
freedom from those conditions which
are at once the trammel and the strength
of true art. Hence in fictive art no
boy's story can hold a very high place,
no matter howv powedmul may be the
imagination in forming it. -Perhaps
we had better give an Illustration of our
meaning. When the writer of a boys'
story wvants, as in "King Solomon's
Mines,'" to show how, in a great battle
betwveen many thousands of savage
combatants, two E~nglishm heroes can
display prodigies of stren@h and valor
equal to those of Achmillet or Sigurd,
and yet come out of the fr'ay unwound
ed, he can wvithout hesitation furnish
heroes with European chair-armor the
moment it Is required-find It stowed
away in the armory of an African tribe
who are Ignorant of firearms, and who,
like the ancient Mexicans and Peruvians,
actually believe the white men to have
fallen from the stars.
To nourish angry passions againit a
man wh9m I really once hakel gould
be tr lay a blister on rey heart.
The gift of prayer ma'y have praise
from man, but it is the grace 'of prayer
that hath power with God.
Old friends are beat. King Jamee
used to call for his old shoes; they wer
easiest on his feet.
The indiscriminate 4efense o,f righ
and wrong contracts the uniderstaho.
'nd. While It hihrdens the heart.