MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
MAY 17. 
m’ Hfltt'JfflliCL 
CONDUCTED BY A2ILE. 
WIDE, CHILDREN. AND FRIENDS. 
Ip the stock of our bliss is iu strangers’ hands vested, 
The fund ill-secured, oft in bankruptcy ends, 
But the heart issues bills which are never protested, 
When drawn on the firm of—wife, children, and 
friends. 
Though spice-breathing gales o’er his caravan hover, 
And around him Arabia’s whole fragrance descends, 
The merchant still thinks of the woodbines that cover 
pleasant thought of returning health, that twin¬ 
ing round it, it might not be snapped by the 
wind ; she fastened a bit of black thread to the 
board, and tied the other end to a little projec¬ 
tion above the upper frame-work of the window, 
that the tendrils of the young plant might have 
something to cling to, and creep up, as they 
grew longer ; and every day they w r ere observ¬ 
ed to have run up higher and higher. 
“It is actually beginning to flower,” said the 
woman one morning; and now also she began 
to entertain the hope and belief that her poor 
sick girl would recover. She had remarked 
that lately the child had been lively, that for 
The bower where he sat with—wife, children, and ^he l a gfc 1'ew mornings she had raised herself 
without assistance in her bed, and set up, look- 
Though valor still glows in his life’s dying embers, j ng a t her little garden of one plant. The fol- 
The death-wounded tar, who his colors defends, , _. ... . . .. . . , , , 
„ , „ . , , . _, lowing week the girl was able to leave her bed 
Drops a tear of regret as he, dying, remembers ° & 
How blest was his home, with—wife, children, and an hour 01 two. She sat cheerfully in the 
friends. warm sunshine near the open window, on the 
The day-spring of youth, still unclouded by sorrow, outside of which bloomed a lovely pea-flower. 
Alone on itself for enjoyment depends ; The little girl stooped her head and softly kiss- 
But drear is the twilight of age if it borrow ed the delicate blossom. That day was like a 
No warmth from the smile of-wife, children, and festiyal in the humbIe garret room . 
friends. _ . . . _ 0 
_“ A kind Providence has planted this sweet 
THE FIVE PEAS flower up here, and permitted it to thrive, in 
_ * order to convey hope and gladness to you, my 
translation feom hans Christian anderson. beb)ved child and to me I said the happy 
_ mother, smiling gratefully on the flower, as if it 
There were five peas in a pea-shell; they had been an angel-messenger from heaven, 
ere green, and the shell was green, and there- but what has become of the other peas—those 
THE FIVE PEAS. 
A TRANSLATION FROM HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSON. 
were green, and the shell was green, and there- But what has become of the other peas—those 
fore they fancied that the whole world was others which were scattered abroad in the wide 
green—and they had a right to be so. world ? “Catch me if you can,” fell into the 
The shell increased in size, and so did the spout on a roof, and came next into a pigeon’s 
peas. They made very good domestic arrange- craw, where it lay like Jonah in the belly of 
ments, placing themselves in a neat row. The the -whale. The two lazy ones landed in the 
sun sent its warm rays upon the pod, and the same sort of place, and were eaten by pigeons. 
rain kept it fresh; they were sheltered and and certainly that was becoming solidly useful; 
comfortable,—had light by day, and darkness but the fourth, who aspired to reaching the 
by night, as it should be ; and the peas became sun, fell into the nasty gutter, and lay days and 
larger and always more thoughtful, as they sat weeks in the stagnant water, until it became 
idle there, for as yet they had no companion. quite swelled. 
“ Shall we always be kept sitting here?” said “ I am becoming enormously stout,” said the 
they. “ We shall become quite hardened stay- pea; “I shall burst at this rate. I am sure no 
ing here so long. We cannot help fancying pea was ever so large, and that none can equal 
djifliu fpimllaug. 
WHAT I LIVE FOR. 
I live for those who love me, 
Whose hearts are kind and true ; 
For the heaven that smiles above me, 
And awaits my spirit too ; 
For human ties that bind me ; 
For the task by God assigned me, 
For the bright hopes left behind me, 
And the good that I can do. 
I live to learn their story 
Who’ve suffered for my sake ; 
To emulate their glory, 
And to follow in their wake ; 
Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages, 
The noble of all ages, 
Whose deeds crowd History’s pages, 
And Time’s great volume make. 
I live to hold communion 
With all that is divine ; 
To feel there is a union 
’Twixt Nature’s heart and mine ; 
To profit by affliction, 
Reap truths from fields of fiction, 
Grow wiser from conviction, 
And fulfil each grand design. 
I live to hail that season, 
By gifted minds foretold, 
When men shall rule by reason, 
And not alone by gold ; 
When man to man united, 
And every wrong thing righted, 
The whole world shall be lighted 
As Eden was of old. 
I live for those who love me ; 
For those who know me true ; 
For the heaven that smiles above me, 
And awaits my spirit too : 
For the cause that lacks assistance, 
For the wrong that needs resistance, 
For the future in the distance, 
And the good that I can do. 
CIVILITY IS 
FORTUNE. 
BRIDAL PRESENTS. 
Civility is a fortune itself, for a courteous man [Concluded from Page 164.] 
always succeeds in life, and that even when Albertina, mistress of ceremonies, by virtue 
persons of ability sometimes fail. I he famous of her long experience, was “in despair” every 
Duke of Marlboiough is a case in point. It was five minutes, and it was wonderful how she 
said of him by one contemporary, that his agree- managed to survive at all. The door-bell rang 
able manners often converted an enemy into a continually, and the bride as often broke away 
friend ; and, by another, that it was more pleas- f rom “her partner,” and flew to the hall to re- 
ing to be denied a favoi by his Grace, than to ceive the head waiter engaged for the next day, 
receive one from other men. 1 he gracious or some band-box or parcel, or message from 
manner of Charles James Fox preserved him the milliner or dress-maker ; but no parcel from 
from personal dislike, even at a time when he the delinquent guardian, who was so strangely 
was politically the most unpopular man in the forgetful, considering that he had heartily ap- 
kingdom. The history of our own country is proved of the engagement at the first, and was 
full of examples of success obtained by civility, the wealthiest of all Miss Jenny Barker’s well- 
The experience of every man furnishes, if we to-do relatives. 
but recall the past, frequent instances, where «I wouldn’t mind so much, at any rate, only 
conciliatory manners have made the fortunes of eve ry one will talk so,” she added to Harold, 
physicians, lawyers, divines, politicians, mer- who" felt himself compelled to leave without 
chants, and indeed, individuals of all pursuits, having seen her alone ten minutes; yet when 
In being introduced to a stranger, his affability, lie came it seemed as if he could not say half 
or the reverse, creates instantaneously a pre- that was in his heart for a month at least. It 
possession in his behalf, or awakens uncon- was so full of bright hopes and the new duties 
sciously a prejudice against him. To men, he was to take upon himself, and fears lest he 
civility is in fact, what beauty is to a woman ; should fail in making that dear girl as happvas 
it is a general passport to favor ; a letter of she should be. 
recommendation written in a language that “ What should we care for any one, Jenny, 
every stranger understands. The best of men when we have each other,” said Harold. And 
have often injured themselves by irritability really I don’t see what more a woman’s heart 
and consequent rudeness, as the greatest scoun- could wish than such a shower of beautiful 
drels have frequently succeeded by their plaus- things. I was only teasing, I think your pres- 
ible manners. Of two men, equal in all other ents very handsome, dear, and it’s very kind in 
respects, the courteous one has twice the chance your friends.” 
for fortune. Phil. Ledger. Just then, at the very latest possible hour 
I live for those who love me ; for fortune. Phil, Ledger. Just then, at the very latest possible hour, 
For those who know me true ; -*■- the messenger so watched for was heard ascend- 
For the heaven that smiles above me, OUR HOMES. inff the steps 
And awaits my spirit too: - T i . 
For the cause that lacks assistance, Wiiat are their corner stone but the virtue of , S , an ieadtblS tlme ’” said the 
For the wrong that needs resistance, a woman, and on what does social well-being bnd ?' des P ondin ^L “ 1 know :t s to ° ^ for 
For the future in the distance, . . & COUSin James now. 
And the £rood *hat I cm do rest but in OUr hoiDCS ? Must We not trace all it , .. , , 
Ana the good .hat i can do. . V ery likely it was, for he was a middle-aged 
other blessings of civilized life to the doors of , n i , , ... , , , 
-- . • , j 1V „ . , gentleman of very regular habits, who had de- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 0U1 P llvate d ^®J llB S 8 ’ Arc uot ° ul ' bearfcb ’ spatched his office boy with the parcel and note 
_ __ _ _ _ _ ctnnDC ffimvHnn nvr nnlir f/vvnto nnninrvol 
OH, HOW IT SMARTS!” 
Oh, how it smarts”' 
SMARTS!" st0 ” B by holy form* co.jugal filial now delivered, early in the evening. Why they 
and parental lone, the corner-stone of Church had j|]Bt arriTOd was bcBt tnow “ to 
sobbed a fair haired and otate, more sacred than either, more neces- WI „,p r ^ , 
that there must be something going on outside.” me in size. I am the most remarkable, doubt- girl of six years, as she raised her “ bonny blue sary than both ? Let our temples crumble, and tions 
i But weeks passed on ; the peas became yel- less, of the five from the old pod.” e’en,” swimming with tears, appealingly to capitals of State be leveled with the dust, but jj. seemed as if that strinu would never 
low and the pod became yellow. “The whole And the gutter agreed with it. mother, and shook her hand, aching with a spare our homes ! Let no socialist invade them un tied Harold took pity on the inn t‘ 
world is turning yellow,” said they—and they But the young girl stood at the window with burn. “I know it child,” replied the mother, with his wild plans of community. Man did fluttering little fingers and finally cut it with 
had a right to tliiuk so. sparkling eyes, with the glow of health upon “but calm yourself; you’ll meet with many a not invent and he cannot improve or abrogate his knife > One two three wrappers 
At length, they felt pulling at the pod ; it her cheeks, and she folded her delicate white severer pain, should you live to woman’s estate, them. A private shelter to cover in two hearts “ And it’s so heavy What can it be ?” said 
was broken off, and fell into a human hand, and bands over the pea-blossom, and thanked the that sobs cannot lessen, balms cannot heal.” dearer to each other than all in the world; high th e bride eagerly 
from thence into the pocket of a jacket along Giver of all good for it. Aye, bead-aches and heart-aches, are lawful walls to exclude the profane eyes of every hu- Then a strong pasteboard packing-box, edo- e d 
with several other full pea-shells. “They will “I prefer my pea !” said the gutter. inheritances of the children of men. The dark man being ; seclusion enough for children to with blue. Harold began to comprehend the 
soon be opened, said they, and they waited 4 • days will come — bitter disappointments tine- feel that mother is a holy and peculiar name— mystery; but nothing was further from the 
expecting it. “Would that I could foresee artle ss simpl icity. ture with gall all life’s remaining sweets.— this is home 5 aud here is the birth-place of young girl’s excited imagination than the plain, 
which of us will ramble the furthest, said the One of the sweetest incidents we have no- Realities shall dissipate the bright dreams that ever Y secret thought. Here the Church aud substantially bound “Family Bible,” which 
smallest pea “the shell will soon give way. . . manv a dv _ j e b - b shows S ave a charm to youth, and lent their rainbow State must come for their origin and support. presented itself when the cover was raised. 
senger himself, who did not wait for explana- 
But the young girl stood at the window with 
from thence into the pocket of a jacket along Giver of all good for it. 
with several other full pea-shells. “ They will “ I prefer my pea !” said the gutter. 
soon be opened,” said they, and they waited --—•—«•- 
expecting it. “ Would that I could foresee artless simplicity. 
which of us will ramble the furthest.,” said the 
smallest pea-“the shell will soon give way.” 0xK of the sweetest incidents we bave no ' 
“All must happen as it is ordained!” said the tlced for many a day ~ and one wbicb sWs 
ARTLESS SIMPLICITY. 
One of the sweetest incidents we have no- 
“ All must happen as it is ordained ! said the ~ , , “ , , . , • f i i • , hues to hope’s coloring of the future. The war Oh ! spare our homes ! The love we experience Tears of disappointment and mortification 
largest. Crack went the pod, and all five of , , .■ ,. a> , . , .. . of life shall extinguish sympathy—cold can fhere gives us our faith in an infinite goodness; sprang to her eyes as she looked up at Harold, 
the peas rolled out in the clear sunshine. They and undefiled ”» a g“>ation, has J ust fallcn under °!- i ! JL:_ L —I :LiL _the nuritv and disinterested^ of home is TT . __ a_ „ , , \ . .. 
— r -- . ; our observation It is thus related -—A ladv congeal affections-its rough jostle exterminate the punty and disinterestedness of home is our He was sorry for her ; though to him it seem- 
lay in a child s hand ; a little boy looked at „ " J v , confidence, and sacrifice benevolence to selfish- foretaste and our earnest of a better world. In ed a very wise and proper gift from the judi- 
them, and remarked that they were nice peas ‘ J „ oik city, and saw one day relations there established and fostered do we cious miardian who had alwavs bar! t,Jw 
for his pop-gun; and one of them was forth- on the Sldewalk a ra ^ ed ’ cold ’ a,ld bur W 
with consigned to the gun and shot away. llttle & ir1 ’ S azlD S ^tfully a t some of the cakes 
“ Now I fly away, out into the world ; catch ln a sho P ™ dow - stopped, and taking 
me if you can,” and it was off. the llttle one tbe hand ’ led her into the store - 
“I,” said another, “shall fly straight to the Thou S h she was aware thafc bread mi S bt be 
sun ; it is a superb pea-sliell, and will be very better for tbe cold cblld tban cake > y et desiring 
comfortable for me.” Off he went. to g ratlf 7 tbe shivering and forlorn one, she 
“ I shall sleep wherever I alight,” said two of bou S bt and 8 ave ber tbe cake she wanted - She 
the others, “but we shall roll far enough,” and tben ^ ook ber t0 an °fber place, where she pro- 
“How it smarts,” will be the secret exclama- 
in a shop window. She stopped, and taking ^ on raa! D r painful moments, when no pa- 
the little one by the hand, led her into the store. re Dt a l hand is rtear to apply the soothing balm, 
Though she was aware that bread might be or administer gemal sympathy. “How it 
better for the cold child than cake, yet desiring smar fs> is echoed fiom myriads of human 
to gratify the shivering and forlorn one, she hearts, while the thorn pieices the flesh, and the 
bought and gave her the cake she wanted. She P°i S011 rai Ales in the very vitals aye, poison, 
relations there established and fostered do we 
find through life the chief solace and joy of 
existence.— Selected. 
THE PAST. 
“ Of the past the old man’s thoughts are, 
And the maiden’s of the future.” 
cious guardian, who had always had her best 
welfare at heart. He wondered that no one, 
not even his own good mother, in all their circle 
of relatives, had made the same choice. 
“ Read the note, Jenny,” he said, soothingly, 
as he would have done to a grieved, disappoint¬ 
ed child, putting it into her hand. 
She gave it back to him open ; for she could 
L t i .11 c Wn whmmsr T nlmht ” « a bl two of bou g bt a » d g a ™ her the cake she wanted. She P oison rankles lu tbe ver y vltals ~ a y e > Prison, Like a traveler who has gained the summit She gave it back to him open ; for she could 
n ntw* uyJ sball roU far ’ I then took her to another place, where she pro- slow in lts operations, but deadly sure in its of a hill, and sits down, wearied with his jour- not make it out through her tears. They were 
l 1 ! w ’ llpd on the floor and then were a l s „ cured her a shawl, and other articles of com- effects-poison that deadens sensibility, de- ney, to trace his path backwards down to the alone now ; so he drew her hand down on his 
they hrst loiled on tne noo , an tlien v ere also grateful little creature looked the stro y s chant y> and enslaves purity to the re- sunny vale at his feet, the old love to turn their shoulder, and read in his grave, manly voice : 
^“Ainnost happen as it is ordained !” exclaim- =,e S —, the pant-towards th, „e„ y da y . “I send y ou an nnnsna! gift, dJdUM, for 
ed the last as it too was shot awav It flew artless simplicity, said, “ Are you God’s wife !” “ How smarts” sighs the dark-eyed maiden, a nd smiling scenes and happy faces that were you have always been as dear to me as my own 
an 'am Hoard under a barret window md Did tbe raost eloquent speaker ever employ as pressing the small hand upon the heart, she as sunshine to their heart in childhood and could have been; yet I can think of no other so 
upon an old board undei a ganet window, and _ , 1 _ l a 1 ^ Ler eLnmbev_ferL« vouth. The sunlie-htof vouth reflected h.neV te __ 
alighted in a hole in the wood, where there was 
some moss and soft earth ; the moss covered it 
words to better advantage ? 
A Child’s Answer. —A father once said play- 
seeks the quiet of her chamber—for he who won youth. The sunlight of youth reflected back to suitable, coming from me, at this time. A fam- 
her young heart’s first affections, has thrown cheer the heart of age. “ Auld Lang Syne ” is ily bible is not what it used to be in my young 
them at her feet, a worn, a worthless thing ; and tke motto of the aged ; Excelsior is the motto of days ; not held in such loving reverence, or 
ud and then it lay hidden, but not foreotten A Child’s Answer.—A father once said play- .. —g,— ° ’ . --- -* u, »utu wviug reverence, or 
bTihto.tMaker fully to l.i, little daughter, a child aboutSve h « isfree ' ^ little while, the pain burns fiercely, the young. V outhdock, to the mountain, sum- wiA tho faitlr and trust of the old 
J o J ^*.1 L, 4-^ ^^ -mit. cr 11t.t.Ari r\(T in t np ernrerpnna cr»lpr»Hr»vc nf a: _ cti*n _• . .. tt t i t , 
by its great Maker. ms iitue aaugnter, a cmid about nve 
“ All must happen as it is ordained !” it ex- y ears old, “Mary, you are not good for any- 
claimed. 
In the little garret room dwelt a poor woman 
thing.” 
“Yes I am, dear father,” replied she, looking 
who went out during the day to clean stoves, to thoughtfully and tender into his face. ' carelessly around his brow A is a b g bt from futurity, dazzling his eyes, light- in so man y homes 
chop firewood, or do any other manual work ! Why what are you good for, pray tell me, 0ck !, TL? inu his nath. stirring every nerve to nctln TL 
and another is added to the many graves that rait glittering in all the gorgeous splendors of times. Still, knowing Harold as I do, and how 
disfigure the fair earth. the morning, and sighs to clasp the splendid readily you are won to the right way when it 
“How it smarts,” groans the old man as he v fr^ on to his hi east. The future fills the whole is set before you, I hope that in your household 
sways to and fro iii anguish of spirit, his silvered sphere of his vision ; the “good time coming” it will never be neglected and unused, as it is 
for though she was clever and capable of doing niy dent ; tine there in agony And whv ?—Ms son his He rushes to gain the pinnacle of glory, often light they have come to be considered They 
many better thrngs, she teas extremely poor; / «• S°^ <» ** replied she, A “ L , 1 n 1 „ 9 forgetting that it is the light of Heaven which 1 L. 
breathing picture of despair, is the old man, sit- b ^ 8 P a ' b ’ stirring every nerve to action. “ I do not approve of bridal presents iu the 
many oeue. unngs, sue was ex L ,emeiy poor; - — w ^ ! ° weU . bel oyed son on whom he looked with forgetting that it is the light of Heaven which 
and at home in her little chamber lay her at the same time throwing her tiny arm around only, wen Deiovca son, on wnom nc looked y im , , . . c , 7 , 7 
daughter, a half-grown girl, so slender anddeli- his neck, and giving him a kiss of unutterable bri S bt anticipations of honor and usefulness, gilds the baie, rocliy mount am top. Selected, 
cate; for a whole year she had been confined to affection. had deeply ened, even to shame and disgiace. qbeaTNESS OP LITTLE THINGS 
bed, hovering between life and death. Blessed child ! may your life ever be an ex- Tbe allurements of the saloon were too enticing GREATNESS OP LIT TLE THINGS. 
“She is going to her little sister,” said the pression of that early felt instinct of love. The the billiards too exciting and the temptation Little habits drive nails into our coffins. 
Little habits drive nails into our coffins. 
are too often only vehicles of ostentatious dis¬ 
play, olten-time ill-afforded, and given grudg¬ 
ingly in secret; and the truest friends are 
wounded by seeing their modest offerings 
placed in glittering contrast with what has cost 
woman. “I had these two children; it was highest good you or any other mortal can pos- b ^ s blck f°° s t lon S withstand, till They more than make up by their number what f ai less thought and care overlooked and slighted 
hard work for me to support them both, but it sibly confer is, to live in the full exercise of af- f or 9 er was written against him, and fiercely they seem to lack in individual importance. k Y f ke recipient for some useless bauble. F,n- 
nlpased our Lord to take one of them from mp • fection.— Ladies' Christian Annual. burned the pain in the fathers heart bleach- They are the true seeds of character. We might v y au( f heart-burning, eiery kind of ill-feeling, 
pleased our Lord to take one of them from me ; 
—would that I might be permitted to keep the 
other who is still with me ; but God does not see 
fit to separate them, and she is going fast to her 
little sister.” 
The sick girl, however, lived on ; she lay pa¬ 
tiently and still the whole day, while her 
mother was out trying to earn something. 
It was spring, and early one morning just as 
the mother was going out to her day’s labor, the 
sun shone brightly through the little window 
down upon the floor, and sparkled upon the 
panes of glass. 
What little green thing is that peeping up 
behind the window, and waving in the wind ?” 
What is the blooming tincture of a skin 
To peace of mind—to harmony within ? 
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye 
To the soft soothing of a calm reply ? 
Can comeliness of form, or shape, or air, 
With comeliness of words or deeds compare : 
No, those at first the unwary heart may gain, 
But these—these only can that heart retain. 
[Rowe's Art of Charming. 
A Hapi*y Fireside. —Home is the residence 
burned the pain in the father’s heart—bleach- T hey are the tr«e seeds of character. We might vy aud heart-burning, every kind of ill-feeling, 
ing the head, withering, blighting, blasting his as weU plant acornSj and not expect them to seems to me to S row ou , t of this much-abused 
life. grow, as cherish small vices and not calculate cus ^°m. I had made up my mind to discontin- 
The heavy hand of disease has brought the on their i ncrease ; or as reasonably hope to see ue ifc in future ’ before 1 knew 1 was 80 soon to 
midnight assassin down till the grave yawns to the firm and noble oak wbeve n0 acorns were be called on to give you away. Harold could 
receive him. Oh the sting ! shrieks the strong 
man, as he tosses wildly, madly on his couch— 
“ While life is ebbing fast away, 
And death stands mocking by.” 
Ah ! the smothered fires of conscience were re- 
ever planted, as true greatness and success in n °t ask anything more precious at my hands; 
life, where the seedlings of a thousand little and tell him, fiom me, that if at anytime my 
habits of industry and virtue bad not been first C0UDSe ^ credit, or more tangible proof of the 
carefully cherished. entire confidence I have in him will be of any 
In a word, character is the sum of little sei vice, he must not hesitate to call on me, as if 
viving then, and remorse pierces the soul with thingg) rather than great ones. The true esti- 1 was bis own fatber - 
stings of agony 
mate of an individual is not ascertained by his “F'or yourself, my dear child, accept all I can 
panes of glass. t , f tl } H 1 ftl >1 . . “Bring me a card,” said the dying Randolph accidental or occasional achievements, but his offer of heartfelt good wishes and earnest pray- 
What little green thing is that peeping up .^ t i° ^ 1* ° f fi d 1 ^ & to bbi attendant. It was brought and given every day habits. A nation’s character is not er f° r your future happiness. I doubt not 
behind the window, and waving in the wind ?” F b emselves ^for children Vulav in - for'Inis- bim—a P lain ’ P ure »-' w ' blte card - _ He looked at determined by its famous men, but by the hab- other friends have lavished more costly gifts.— 
said the young invalid; and her mother went , , , . P y ’ it a moment and returned it saying, “ write on its of its masses, and the character of the age by None have thought of you as I have this day 
to the window and opened it a little. ai ! f.! ° ° ^ °f C n eb a ^. C it, Remorse.” It was done, and again handed the vices or virtues that were so inherent as to in selecting mine, save, indeed, your mother 
make life a blessing. The object of all ambi- him _ He gazed intently a moment, turned it be unnoticed.—Reefed. 
“Why it is a tiny plant, said she, “ that has tion should be to be happy at home, if we are over> aud it to the attendant, saying, 
shot up with small green leaves. How could it not happy elsewhere. It is the best proof of « Write again, Eemorse.” It was written, and 
have got into the crevice, I wonder ? It will the virtues of a family circle, to see a happy • returned him . H e held it before his 
be a little garden for you to look at,” fireside. . . , 
o • i • i» v. j j view, turning it from side to side, repeating 
So the sick girl s bed was moved nearer the -«*—►- ^ „ i ... . . .. ’ . 1 6 
window, where she could see the little sprout- Words. —“ Words, words, words !” says Ham- remorse, icmoise, ti is ips cou move no 
ing plant, and the mother went away to her let, disparagingly. But God preserve us from more - 
■work. the destructive power of words! There are Afr yes, pains, griefs, dark dreary hours, 
“Mother, I think I am getting better,” said words which can separate hearts sooner than thorny pillows, ever follow tbe recipients of the 
the little girl one afternoon. “The sunshine sharp swords. There are words whose sting primal curse. “How it smarts is an every-day 
has been so warm to-day! the little plant thrives can remain in the heart through a whole life ! exclamation, re-echoed hourly, while yet the 
nicely, and I think that I shall thrive too, and -- man Y children of humanity journey thro’ this 
be able to get out into the bright sunshine.” Worth Remembering— The great secret of - “ Wildering maze 
“Would to God you could!” exclaimed the avoiding disappointment is not to expect too Where sin hath tracked ten thousand ways 
mother; but she feared that never would be. much. Despair follows immoderate hope, as AU br^aldwmding^nTallope, 
She put a little stick close by the green sprout, things fall hardest to the ground that have been A11 tempting with perfidious hope 
which had inspired her daughter with the nearest to the sky. All ending in despair.” F. 
exclamation, re-echoed hourly, while yet the 
many children of humanity journey thro’ this 
-“ Wildering maze 
Where sin hath tracked ten thousand ways 
Her victims to ensnare : 
All broad and winding and aslope, 
All tempting with perfidious hope 
All ending in despair.” F. 
be unnoticed.— Selected. and your future husband. God’s blessing be on 
-- you both !” 
w , , SIG ‘ NS ° p crosphrity. The reader’s eyes grew misty as he conclu- 
Where spades grow bright, and idle words grew dull; J r 
Where jails are empty, and where barns are full ; ded, \slill6 cl snille ol sudden satisfaction and 
Where church-paths are with frequent fc-et outworn ; pleasure flushed his bride’s upraised face. It 
Law court-yards weedy, silent and forlorn ; wa8 60 kindly said, that 111 spite of her expec- 
Where doctors foot it and where farmers ride ; totfong she could not be vexed at her guardian; 
Where age abounds, and youth is multipled ; . , .. . . . , , , .. , 
Where these signs are, they clearly indicate and tbe ^appointment began to lose its keen- 
A happy people and well governed State. est edge. 
-- “ What more could we ask, darling ?” said 
For every one life has some blessing — some Harold, kissing her forhead softly ; and at that 
cup that is not mixed with bitterness. At moment, free from all external worldly influ- 
every heart there is some fount of pure water, ences, she was ready to answer “ Nothing.”— 
and all meD, at some time or other, taste its Selected. 
sweetness. Who is he that has not found on his "*"*■*■- 
path of life, some fragrant rosebush, scenting all One rough diamond is ol more value than 
the air with its sweet perfume ? many smooth counterfeits. 
signs of frospkrity. 
Where spades grow bright, and idle words grew dull; 
Where jails are empty, and where barns are full ; 
Where church-paths are with frequent feet outworn ; 
Law court-yards weedy, silent and forlorn ; 
Where doctors foot it and where fanners ride ; 
Where age abounds, and youth is multipled ; 
Where these signs are, they clearly indicate 
A happy people and well governed State. 
