2 
SEED-TIM E &HD HARVEST. 
UNCONGENIAL WORK. 
RY W. D. BOYNTON. 
Hard wrought is uncongenial work; 
And, as we plod our daily labors through, 
We often feel that fortune gives 
Not always unto each his due. 
The fickle Goddess seems to shower 
Her worldly favors, prized and sought, 
Of riches, fame, and power, 
On those who’ve earned them not. 
And, unto those who most have worked and striven, 
These glittering baubles to possess, 
Oftimes the least is given. 
Or, perhaps, ’tis the bitter portion of distress. 
What, though the brave heart nobly strive, 
It’s own to reach and hold, 
The fates perverse are sure to drive 
From the eager grasp the glittering gold. 
Learn then the lesson, old and true; 
And by it's teachings gain new heart: 
That while unearned fortune comes to few, 
The humble worker, bears the nobler part. 
Here lies our work; and as we fill 
The places unto us assigned, 
Let us feel that never till Life's work is done, 
Can the world a true verdict find. 
--- 
TWO SCENES. 
A New Year s Story. 
BY J. AY. AT, MILTON, PA. 
“Oli, papa, did you buy me that doll— 
the one that sings so sweetly—for a New 
Year's gift ?” 
“And if I haven't, May, wliat then!*’ 
“Oh, I’ll think you are too aAvful for 
anything!” And May perched herself upon 
her father's knee almost before he was 
seated. 
Mr. Bell gazed into the eyes of his 
daughter, arid thought what a spoiled little 
darling she was. 
“Tell me, papa—quick! Did you buy it?' 5 
sa id May, putting her arms around his neck. 
“Do you think you need it, May? Look 
what I have bought you for New Year’s.” 
“Why, only a cap, a tea-set. a ring—oh, 
I do want the doll so badly; it sings so 
sweet.” 
"Yes, hut I bought you an organette. 
Isn’t that music enough for one time?” 
“Oli, so you did—-I forgot the organette, 
papa. But I know you have the doll, I see 
it in your eyes! Where is it, papa?'’ And 
May jumped doAvn from her seat, and 
danced around. 
“Go, ask mamma; she—” 
But May started off before her father® 
sentence was finished; returning shortly., 
bearing aloft, a large, beautiful doll. 
“Oh. isn't it a beauty, papal. Listen how 
she sings!” 
“It is Aery nice, May; you must not 
spoil it.” 
‘Til not. papa. I'll he just—just as care¬ 
ful as anything!” A.nd May was soon lost 
in admiring her last present. 
Mr. Bell Avas the owner of several large 
mills, and employed many hands. He was 
overbearing in his business—giving no 
thought for the feelings of others—but 
just the reverse in his domestic relations.. 
May was his only child, and he fairly 
worshiped her. and her every wish was- 
gratified. “Not a care shall site know 
if I can prevent it!” he said. 
■» ■*. -:>• * 
“Mamma, I am so cold—hungry!” 
“Hush, Minnie, mamma has nothing for 
you to eat !'’ And the woman’s voice broke- 
into sobs, as she wrapped the thin shawl 
more closely around the quivering form, 
and pressed'her to her breast. 
“Oh, mamma, then we will starve— 
starve; Avon’t we, manima?” And the little 
sufferer, weak though she Avas, sat up—a. 
wild terror in her eyes. 
“Father, guide me, I know not what to 
do!” moaned the poor woman to herself. 
“Don’t cry,, mamma,” implored the 
ehild. “I'll be patient and Avait. You have- 
told me I must be patient. Maybe some 
one Avill yet give us something.” 
“Alas, my child, I fear not. I know not 
Avhere to go for aid.’’ 
“Won’t Air. Bell give something? You 
have worked for him a good Avhile, you 
know, mamma.” The child brightened up» 
as she spoke. She thought she had solved 
the problem at hand. 
“I went to see Mr. Bell, yesterday, Min¬ 
nie, and he bade me not to come again. 
Even when I told him that Ave had no food,, 
no coal, and that you were sick, he said if 
was no fault of his. He does not care for 
such as you and It Minnie.” 
A sigh was the only sign the child made 
that she understood, as she nestled her head 
more closely against? her mother’s breast. 
