$ 
5EEB-TiME AH® HARVEST. 
“Well,” yawned Charlie, “let’s goto bed 
and leave the rest for to-morrow.” 
We were up bright and early, and met 
behind the barn. Frank pulled the melons 
out from under the haystack one by one. 
“A citron,” groweled Bob, as the first one 
appeared. “Another citron,” he continued, 
as Frank produced the second. “All citrons, 
by Jingo! he exclaimed. “Well, Frank, 
you are a nice fellow to go after melons.” 
Sure enough, they were all citrons, and 
we had had our trouble for nothing 
“Serves us right,” commented Charlie. 
As we stood mourning our ill luck, 
grandfather called: 
“Say, boys, here's Mr. Brown. He wants 
to see you.” 
We looked at each other in dismay. 
“Here’s a pretty go—get ourselves into 
trouble for four citrons,” said Frank, as he 
led the way around the barn. 
There at the back door, seated in his old 
farm wagon, was Mr.Brown.~ He?was 
laughing with grandfather, and that re¬ 
assured us somewhat; but it was with no 
very light hearts that we approached the 
wagon. 
“Good mornin’, boys I thought ye might 
like some melons, so as I was goin’ to mill 
I thought I’d fetch ye along some, as I have 
plenty of ’em. I reckon ye don’t raise such 
nice melons down to York,” he added with 
a laugh, 
“Well, roll ’em out; there’s one apiece, 
and a few muskmelons for good measure,” 
he continued as he saw us hesitate. 
Frank was our leader in good as well as 
in mischief, and he stepped into the breach 
bravely. 
“Mr. Brown,” he said, his face flushing 
with shame, we oughn’t to have your mel¬ 
ons. We went over to your patch last 
night and took four citrons.” He brought 
out the last word with an effort. To ac¬ 
knowledge his guilt was humiliating 
enough, but not to be able to tell melons 
from citrons made it worse. 
“Sho! ye don’t say so. Wall, now Mrs. 
Brown reckoned to preserve citrons to-day, 
and if ye haven’t thrown ’em away, I’ll 
swap with ye.” 
He seemed to take it so good-naturedly 
that we were reassured, and, after a mo¬ 
ment’s hesitation, we got the citrons and 
put them into the wagon, 
“Wall, now, couldn’t tell melons from 
citrons. Well, they do look alike. Why 
didn’t ye come to the house and get a 
lantern?” 
This was too much, and, in spite of our 
shame, we burst out laughing. Under 
cover of the laugh Mr. Brown unloaded 
his melons and drove away. 
Grandfather said nothing, thinking that 
Frank’s confession had been punishment 
enough. That noon, however, as we were 
eating one of the melons—fresh and cool r 
just off the ice—he remarked, pointing to 
Frank’s rubber-soled tennis shoes: 
“There ain’t another pair of shoes like 
them in town, is there?” 
“No, sir,” was Frank’s prompt answer. 
“Bad things to wear when you go after 
watermelons,” was grandfather’s only com¬ 
ment .—Allan Forman in Farmer and Man¬ 
ufacturer. 
MARRIAGE. 
Somewhere in the Northeast, from one 
of the springs that abound in the Appala¬ 
chian System, there bubbles out, pure and 
clear as crystal, a drop of water. It sings 
along the rivulet way, now sparkles in the 
larger stream, later floats along the banks of 
the "Ohio—past hills and meadows, cities 
and farms—till it reaches the Father of 
Waters. 
Somewhere in the Northwest, under the 
shadow of the Rockies, another drop issues 
into the rill that flows towards the Yellow¬ 
stone. The drop reaches the river, then the 
Missouri, and for hundreds of miles it travels 
past plain, city and green slope, till at last 
it plays with the sunbeams on the bosom of 
the Mississippi. 
The two drops unite. Henceforth they 
are one. They yet exist, but no one can 
divide the drop formed by their union and 
say, “This came from the East and that 
from the West.” 
Thus united they journey to the sea; and 
when the journey is complete, they rise to 
heaven. And when they are part of the 
tinting of the East, or of the evening rain¬ 
bow, they make the earth glad. 
