WORDS FITLY SPOKEN.” 
BY ETHEL DANE. 
“ A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pio» 
tures of silver.”— rrovcrbs. 
God Is watching, God is waiting. 
He will Judge you by and by, 
For the words you miaht have spoken,— 
Speak them yet, before you die. 
Wait not; If a brother falleth 
Go and take him by the hand, 
Help him gain a foothold somewhere— 
Point him to a better land. 
Speak the word ! but do it kindly, 
Let him know that God is love,— 
That for him «n vile and sinful. 
There is Joy and peace above. 
Peace and joy. if lie repenteth 
From the error of his way— 
Hope, and home, and Heaven for atl. 
If we'll only watch and pray. 
If your words were “ fitly spoken,” 
Many a sinner you might bring. 
From a world of sin and sorrow 
Close to Calvary's cross to cling. 
Many a soul that's wandering blindly 
In a labyrinth of sin. 
Going further from our Father, 
By a kind word, you might win. 
Speak it then, to all the fallen, 
Howe'er hast; or low they lie— 
For the wrung by them committed, 
Jesus' blood can rectify. 
Let your path be e'er so humble. 
There is work for you to do— 
Do it bravely, never faltering, 
Keep God's kingdom still in view. 
STINGY CHURCHES. 
Gratuitous preaching makes selfish, ig¬ 
norant, and indolent churches. A congre¬ 
gation votes its own destruction when it 
decides to “ get along” wiih a preacher who 
costs them little or nothing, and earns just 
as little as he gets. A cheap minister itf 
bad economy. Churches which adopt this 
policy are Invariably in the background in all 
their operations. The congregations aro 
small, and struggle along late to the place 
of worship, the sing’.ng is miserable, the 
prayer-meeting thin and dull, the Sunday 
schools, if they have any, of little account, 
unless conducted by outsiders, the houses 
of worship aro badty warmed and not half- 
lighted, the communion vessels are bottles 
and common tumblers, they do nothing for 
missions, take but few religious papers, are 
without books or musical instruments in 
their familes, their children run wild in sin 
and folly, and general disregard of religion 
prevails. In one thing such churches excel 
—that is, in quarrel. They are nsually split 
into factions, and abound in committees, 
councils, discipline, and exclusions. They 
fight each other when they ought to be 
working to save souls, exclude members 
when they ought to be gathering them in, 
destroy churches when they might build 
them up. Hundreds of such churcheB can 
be found all over the country, while hun¬ 
dreds have already become extinct, died of 
ignorance in the pulpit and stinginess in the 
pews .—Baptivt Union. 
SILENT INFLUENCE. 
We are touching our fellow-beings on all 
sides. They are affected for gwod or for evil 
by what we are, by what we say and do, 
even by what we think and feel. May 
flowers in the parlor breathe their fragrance 
through the atmosphere. We are each of 
us sileutly saturating the atmosphere about 
us with the subtle aroma of our character. 
In the family circle, besides and beyond all 
the teaching, the daily life of each parent 
and child mysteriously modifies the life of 
every person of the household. The same 
process, on a wider scale, is going on 
through the commuuity. No mauliveth to 
himself, and no man dieth to himself. Oth¬ 
ers are built up and straightened by our 
unconscious deeds; aud others may be 
wrenched out of their places, and thrown 
by our unconscious influence. 
Nothing that is truly great can ever be 
altogether borrowed; and he is commonly 
the wisest, aud ho is always the happiest, 
who receives simply and without envious 
question whatever good is offered him, with 
thanks to its immediate giver.— Ruthin. 
We celebrate nobler obsequies to those we 
love by drying the tears of others, than by 
shedding our own; and the fairest funeral 
wreath we can hang on their tomb, is not so 
fair as a fruit-offering of good deeds.— Jean 
Paul. 
Kind words, spoken in the right time and 
place, do more to heal the wounded spirit 
than al{ the gold this world can give. 
ODD CHANGES OF MEANING. 
A LEAP YEAR ROMANCE. 
A romantic marriage was solemnized in 
St. Paul’s Church, in East 117th street, re¬ 
cently, the couple being Mr, Thomas Fagan 
and Mrs. J. Read. It. was the climax of a 
case of love at first sight, aud the raising of 
a poor young man to affluence. 
Mr. Thomas Fagan is the son of the late 
James P. Fagan, who was Superintendent 
of Ward's Island. Young Fagan led a lively 
and fast- life previous to his father's death, 
and t hus naturally incurred the old gentle¬ 
man's displeasure. IIo was cut off with a 
shilling. Thomas thenseusibly went to work 
to earn an honest living. Being young, of 
preposcssing address, lie soon obtained em¬ 
ployment with Mr. Patrick Martin, a house- 
painter in Harlem. 
About this time ho was sent by his em¬ 
ployer to br.ghten up the interior of the 
lonely dwelling of the buxom widow of the 
late Joseph Re d, a gentleman who had ac¬ 
quired a large rtune in Washington Mar¬ 
ket. The wido'r w T as decidedly taken with 
young Fagan on his first appearance in the 
house, and watched his work with an appa¬ 
rently deep interest. In fact she followed 
him from room to room, scarcely leaving 
him alone for a minute. This made Thomas 
a little nervous, and, being rather sensitive, 
he imagined the widow suspected him of dis¬ 
honesty. The longer Thomas remained in 
the widow's domicile the closer she watched 
him. Finally it made him so uncomfortable 
that lie resolved to stand it no longer. 
11c informed his employer of this state of 
affairs, and another man was sent in bis 
place. This did not suit the widow, and 
when the new painter made his appearance, 
she bade him return to the shop and send 
Fagan to do the work, saying that she want¬ 
ed him and none other to work for her. Fa¬ 
gan was accordingly sent to finish the job. 
While Fagan was busily at work, Mrs. Read 
stepped up to him and asked him whether 
he was married. On being answered in the 
negative, she said:—‘‘Then I am going to 
take advantage of the leap-year, and make 
you a proposition of marriage.” 
“ Rut , my dear madam,” said the young 
man, blushing to the roots of his hair, "you 
must surely bo joking; wo are strangers, 
and 1 am sure that you do not mean what 
you say.” 
“If you think 1 am joking and do not 
mean what I say, just put on j our coat and 
go with me to my lawyer, and I will make 
over to you $50,000 worth of property,” said 
the bouncing widow. 
Y’oung Fagan, convinced bj r her manner 
that she was in earnest, straightway accom¬ 
panied her to the lawyer, and a deed was 
drawn up giving to Fagan $50,000 worth of 
property, which he was to become possessed 
of on the day of the marriage. Fagan, after 
the agreement had been made, gave up his 
work. He can be seen dailj r riding t hrough 
the city behind a fast horse, which draws a 
stylish turnout, and he is one of the best 
dressed men to be seen on the street. When¬ 
ever he meets one of his old chums, he hails 
him and says, “ Well, boys, this is better 
than paiutiug, oh ?”—New York Sun. 
They were lavish in their purchases, and 
as Mr. St. John contrasted their smiling 
countenances with the careworn face of 
their father, whom he met in the street 
scarcely an hour before, hurrying from one 
friend to another to borrow money to pay 
a note oil the point"f being protested, their 
lively chatter jarred harshly oil his oars. 
"Isn’t it lovely ?” exclaimed one of the 
sisters, holding up some costly trimmings. 
“ I suppose pa will scold when he sees the 
bill; but so he would if it were only half as 
large.” 
"To be sure he would,” responded the 
other. 
“Aud I’m not going to let the Dayton 
girls outshine me, you maybe certain. It 
is my belief they gave t hat party simply on 
account of St. John’s return from Europe. 
I suppose they are trying to catch him for 
Georgians Did you ever hoar anything so 
ridiculous ?” 
"Never! Such horrid taste as the girl 
has in dress, too! She showed me the new 
silk she is going to wear. Would you be¬ 
lieve it, it is blue! And she as dark as an 
Indian.” 
" That is lor the benefit of Mr. St. John; 
it is his favorite color. 1 met. him on the 
street yesterday, llow tall and handsome 
he has grown!" 
“Yes, and ho is so rich! Pa 6ays he is 
worth half a million, if not more." 
Hero the two girls passod along out of 
sight and hearing, quite unconscious of the 
proximity of the subject of their remarks. 
" Good heavens!” was Mr. St. John’s in¬ 
ward reflection; "are all women so heart¬ 
less, so wrapped up in vanity and display?” 
He was about to leave the store in disgust, 
when his attention was arrested by a low, 
gentle voice, which raised a host of vague 
but pleasant recollections. Ho turned eager¬ 
ly in the direction whence it proceeded, and 
his eyes rested upon a slender, neatly at¬ 
tired lady; they lighted up with pleasure. 
A woman would have noticed that the 
bonnet, though neat and fresh, was not of 
tho latest, style, and the mantle of last sea¬ 
son's fashions; but men rarely observe such 
things. All that St. John saw was the 
graceful form and fair and gentle face of 
the wearer. 
" Sweet Rose Lennox! ” he thought, ‘‘she 
looks as lovely and fragrant as her name! 
Cat) her fresh and guileless nature be so per- 
verted as to care for nothing but outward 
show ?" 
In the meantime Rose made a few simple 
purchases, quite unconscious of the eyes 
that were following her every motion. 
"Js that all, Miss Lennox?” said the 
clerk. 
"All, to-day.” 
“ If you arc t hinking of get t ing a dress, 1 
will show j'on something that will suit you.” 
“ As 1 cannot purchase. I will not trouble 
you,” was the low and quiet reply. 
" No trouble at all, Miss,” said the clerk, 
unrolling the goods, and spreading it out on 
the counter. 
It was a heavy, lustrous silk—brown with 
a glint of gold in it, not unlike the color of 
the soft hair that shaded her forehead. 
It caught the eye of the Parker girls, who 
were passing, and they gathered eagerly 
around it. 
“It’s just the sweetest thing I ever saw,” 
said the oldest, enthusiastically. 
" Whj T don’t you get it, Rose ? Y r ou have 
notbiug for the party next Thursday, and 
it’s just what you. want.” 
“ Only four dollars a yard," suggested the 
clerk, gathering up the heavy folds, so as to 
display its lustre and beauty. 
There was not the slightest touch of envy 
or regret in the soft blue eyes that rested 
admiringly upon it. 
" It is very pretty aud quite reasonable, 
but I cannot afford it.” 
These words, spoken so quietly, and with 
such an unconsciousness that she was admit¬ 
ting anything painful or humiliating, aud 
with the wonder it aroused in the hearts of 
her companions was mingled an involuntary 
respect, though it was conduct they could 
not have imitated, and but vaguely compre¬ 
hended. 
St. John made inquiries in regard to Mr. 
Lennox the next day, and learned that he 
had sustained some heavy losses, but was 
still supposed to be doing a great business. 
Presuming on former acquaintance, he 
resolved to call at his house. 
Despite the adulation he had received 
and his really personal advantages, St. 
John was no coxcomb, and well knew that 
with a girl like Rose Lennox he must 6tand 
on his own individual merits. So, not ven¬ 
turing to call for her who was uppermost in 
his thoughts, he was shown into the family 
sitting-room, where Mr. and Mrs. Lennox 
sat with their oldest children. 
Rose was among them, and the blush that 
' mounted to her cheek, the bright smile that 
she gave him, as their eyes met, spoke a 
warmer welcome than even a father's ex¬ 
tended hand and cordial greeting. 
But having testified by her looks rather 
than words her pleasure at seeing him, Rose 
left the entertainment to her parents, and, 
disappointed as St. John was, lie could not 
but admire her utter unconsciousness that 
his visit was intended for her, and absence 
of all desire to attract his notice. As he 
talked with her father, his eyes wandered 
to the place where she sat sewing; noting 
every expression of the pure, young face, 
even to the quiyrtr of the golden-brown 
lashes (hat shaded the rose-tinted cheeks, 
especially the sweet, womanly charm of her 
low, quiet tones, and gentle movements. 
The richest party robe never looked half 
so lovely as that simple hoine-dress of 
brown merino, worn with no ornament, 
save a dainty ruffle at the wrist aud throat. 
" You will be at Mrs. Dayton's to-morrow 
evening?” ho contrived to saj r , as he took 
his leave. 
" No, 1 am not going! ” 
A shade of disappointment crossed St. 
John's face, almost immediately followed by 
a gleam of satisfaction as a happy thought 
struck him. 
The next evening Rose was sitting in the 
parlor, quite bj’ herself. 
Her mother was up stairs with theyoung- 
cr children, and her father preparing to go 
out. Mr. Lennox looked in upon her a mo¬ 
ment as he passed through the hall. 
“ Do you regret your decision in regard to 
the party, mj' daughter?" 
“No, Indeed,” returned Rose, smiling 
briglily into the careworn face. 
Mr. Lennox laid his hand lovingly upon 
her head. “My blessing! if 1 pass success¬ 
fully through this crisis it wlil be owing to 
(lie strength you have given me.” 
“ Are things looking any brighter, papa?” 
“A great deal brighter, my child. 
You know I told j r ou that I could re¬ 
trieve my losses if I had time. Mr. Hart, 
my principal creditor, has offered to give 
me six months. It was owing to something 
Mr. St. John said to him. He is a noble 
hearted young man. God bless him." 
The heart, of Rose echoed this wish, as her 
father hurried away. For the first time re¬ 
grets mingled with her thoughts, as she 
reverted to the gay gathering, from which 
she was debarred. 
“I suppose he will be there,” she mur¬ 
mured. 
“ A gentleman to see Miss Rose,” said 
Kat-y, opening tho door. 
Rose lifted her eyes and the object of her 
thoughts stood before her. 
“Not sorry to see me, I hope?" said St. 
John, taking her unresisting hand in his. 
“Sorry?" Rose turned her eyes around 
(hat he might not see how softly radiant 
they were. “Oh, no," she faltered; 1—1 
was only surprised. 1 thought you would 
bo sure to beat Mrs. Dayton’s this evening. 
"Shall 1 tell you why I did not go?” in¬ 
quired Mr. St . John, as he took a seat by 
her side. 
The cheek of Rose grew as red beneath 
that earnest gaze as the flower for which 
she was named. 
“ 1 was just t hinking about you, and wish¬ 
ing that 1 could thank j*ou for the kiudlj T 
office you performed for my dear father.” 
“ I am goitig to ask him to perform for me 
a far more kindly one; to give to my keep¬ 
ing the brightest and sweetest rose that 
ever bloomed. When he asks me what your 
wish is, oh, Rose—if I could only say my 
Rose—what shall I tell him?” 
What Rose told could be easily inferred 
by one who looked in upon the two a few 
miuntes later, aud saw bow quietly the 
head of Rose reposed upon St. John’s shoul¬ 
der, as though it were the most natural 
resting-place it could find. 
Rose was as modest as lovely. 
“ I don't see how you came to choose me, 
Paul, when surrounded by &o many brilliant 
women." 
“ Who would 60 gladly do their best to 
dissipate my fine fortune,” returned St. 
John, laughing. 
He then told Rose of the little scene he 
had wmessed in the store of “Lovering & 
Brothers,” and he had resolved then aud 
there to do his best to win her, who, when 
tempted to expenditures beyond her means, 
had the strength of mind to say:—“ I Can¬ 
not afford It.” 
-- 
Lavaier says that you never know a man 
until you have divided an inheritance with 
him. I would also say that you never know 
a man until you have got into a scrape with 
him, and can see whether he is willing to 
take a fair share of the blame, 
Read not books alone, but men, and chief¬ 
ly be careful to read thyself. 
A correspondent of Notes and Queries 
writes as follows of the changes of meaning 
that often take place in the lapse of time in 
words and phrases: 
“The first verse of Dean Whittingham's 
version of the 114th Psalm may be quoted 
as a curious instance of a phrase originally 
grave in its meaning, becoming strangely 
incongruous: 
" ' When Israel by God's address 
From Pliaronil's land Mas bent, 
And Jacob's house the strangers left, 
And In the same train went.' 
—Manchester paper. 
“I had just read the above, when, glan¬ 
cing at an American paper on my table, I 
found the following * from a correspondent 
“‘Some introductory lines in Southey’s 
“Thalaba” require correction. They read as 
follows: 
“ *" Who at this untimely hour 
Wander o'er the desert sands? 
No station is in view.'" 
“ Now this is no longer true. The Great 
Desert is crossed by a railway, and there 
are several stations. The editor advises 
that in any future edition of Southey the 
present altered state of things should be 
shown by a note.” 
Many other instances may be adduced in 
which a comic effect is produced in a pass¬ 
age of grave and even lofty diction by the 
use of some phrase which has become slang. 
Thus in the opening of one Dean Milmau's 
theological works it is written, " The great 
drama of tho Hebrew dispensation had 
been played out. ” 
