MOORE'S BUBAL NEW-YORKER. 
lectual guidance had been committed to my 
care. 1 was their second teacher, and of course 
found their Ideas very crude and undeveloped. 
In two days my school was organized and In 
good working order; and if 1 did not have 
classes in the natural sciences and the higher 
mathematics. 1 had one large class In “ human 
nature," which I both taught and studied with 
Interest. Tt was their pride to maintain perfect 
order, conducting themselves like drilled sol¬ 
diers, ami excelling in t he perfection of their 
recitations. And, though wanting In that pol¬ 
ish of manner and conversation only acquired 
by mingling In rellned society, they yet proved 
a most Interest ing lot of pupils. One Of them 
said one day " White folks link the niggers 
don’t know miffin only to lie and steal. Hay, 
all we know while folks dun learnt us. ’Hpoel, 
they must a learnt us to lie and steal, too." 
They soom to ’ook on the most of the whites 
as their natural enemies. My scholars’ ages 
range from live years to the -grey-haired old 
aunty of sixty, who said If she could only learn 
to read well enough to read her Hlhle she would 
be satisfied. Think of that, “ye pampered 
sons and daughters of luxury I" An aged wo¬ 
man, who earned her scanty support of corn 
meal and bacon by hard toil over the wash 
tub, and yet finding tlms to learn to read. One 
young couple particularly attracted iny atten¬ 
tion. They came to school several days before 
I learned they were husband and wife; and as 
they sat side by side In the old church and 
conned their lesson from the same book, his 
Jetty skin formed a remarkable contrast to her 
fair complexion and blue eyes the only evi¬ 
dences of African descent being the hair, which 
was very curly. 
My school soon became so popular that some 
came eight and ten miles to attend It, and at 
the close of the term I taught a month for 
them gratis. The most remarkable thing in 
their community, during the winter, was their 
Christmas tree. Every one In the whole church 
received one or more presents; no one was 
slighted ; and though some of the urlielee were 
of no earthly use to the receiver, they at least 
expressed their generosity and good will 
toward each other. They also had frequent 
festivals for the benefit of their pastor, and 
every Friday night they hud what they called a 
"'Nevoleut S’lety "(benevolent Society), for 
the benefit of the sick of their members. Those 
who were not members received no aid. The 
satisfaction which 1 enjoyed in reviewing my 
work, and in noting the progress of my school, 
more than compensated for any lack of cor¬ 
diality on the part of negro-haters. I was 
thankful that I was aide to add my mite to 
their small though steadily increasing stock of 
knowledge, and I still look back with pleasure 
to that winter’s experience. 
-♦♦♦- 
A WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM OF IT. 
"To toll the truth,” said John Tiavilaud, as 
lie threw aside his evening paper and faced the 
little group in the parlor, “ 1 am fast growing 
out of patience with lids text, * A woman at 
the bottom of it.’ It would be strange in this 
world, made up as far as we arc aware, of noth¬ 
ing but the two sexes, If a woman should not 
occasionally bo found at the bottom of any¬ 
thing good 1 It Is the injustice of the thing 
that makes me angry. For there are hundreds 
of us poor fellows who owe all we are, all we 
have, and all we can hope to become in this 
world or the next, t o the unselfish love of wo¬ 
man,'’ 
The gentleman's face was Hushed, and he 
spoke very warmly and feelingly-so much so 
that his wife, rocking her baby to sleep in she 
farther corner of the room. Inquired : —“ But 
why should you care, John? It always has been 
so and always will be so. We don't think much 
about it now, because we have been taught to 
expect It.’’ 
** But you should cate! and you should fight 
for each other more than you do. There Is one 
chapter in my life’s history that l have always 
kept locked in my heart; but to-night I feel as 
if it were my duty to open it for your inspec¬ 
tion ; and I do it for the love of woman—for 
the love of one woman who made me what 1 
aui worthy to be the husband of a good wo¬ 
man.” 
“Why, John!’’ said Mrs. Haviland, softly ap¬ 
proaching baby still held tightly to her bosom 
—“you absolutely frighten me." 
“ Let’s have the story," said the rest of the 
group, certain that something good might be 
anticipated; and John commenced, at first a 
little timidly, but gaining confidence as he pro¬ 
ceeded. 
“ When first I came to New Vork at the age 
of 111 years to seek my fortune, 1 can call mvsell 
a precocious chap without danger of being ao- 
cusedol an unusual degree of self-appreciation. 
I was quick to learn everything, the had .vs well 
as the good. My employer used profane lan¬ 
guage. 1 picked up the oath., lie dropped with 
a naturalness that surprised even myself. The 
boys in the office all chewed tobacco. This was 
a lit tle.the hardest Job I evcrltU tempted, but after 
two weeks of nausea and Indescribable stom¬ 
ach wrenches T came off victorious, and could 
get away with my paper a day with the best of 
’em." 
“True, every word of it," continued the 
speaker. 
“ One afternoon T was sent with a note from 
my employer to the upper part of the city. I 
hadn’t anything to read, but I had plenty of 
tobacco, and with that I proposed to entertain 
myself during the two or three hours I must 
spend In the passage. For some distance I did 
not notice who were beside me, but by-and-by 
i a lady Said very soft ly and pleasantly, * Would 
you please, little boy, be more careful ? I am 
going to a party this afternoon, and I should 
hate to have my dress spoiled.' 
“ 1 looked Into her face. It was t he sweetest 
face I ever saw. Pale, earnest and loving, to 
my boyish heart it was the countenance of an 
angel." 
" What In the world did you say ?” Interrupt¬ 
ed Mrs. Haviland, her bright eyes tilling with 
tears as she saw how the memory of the beau¬ 
tiful woman affected her husband. 
“8a> ! There was little I could ray. 1 think 
all 1 did for some t.rae was to look. 1 managed 
to dispose of my tobacco however, and wiped 
my mouth very carefully, all of which I felt 
certain she saw' and commented upon. 
"Have you a mother, little boy?” she next 
asked, in the same low tone. 
“‘No, ma'am,’ 1 answered, and 1 felt my 
t hroat filling up, and I know I must swallow 
mighty fast to keep from sobbing. 
“‘You have a father, then, I suppose?’she 
kept on, 
“‘No, ma'am, no father.’ 
“ 4 Brothers and sisters ?' 
“ • Neither, ma’am.’ 
“'Then the little boy is all alone In the 
world ?’ 
“‘ All alone, ma'am.' 
“' How long has his mother been dead ?' and 
the dear woman looked away Irom my face and 
waited till I could speak. 
*“ Two years,' I answered. 
“‘And you loved her?' came next. 
“‘Dearly,’ was all 1 could say. 
“ She was silent for a moment, and then said 
so sweetly—oh ! I shall never forget it 
“ ‘ And what do you think your dear mother 
would say—how do you think she would led— 
to know that her little boy was guilty of such 
a disgusting habit as this?’ pointing to my 
cheek where the tell-t ale quid had vainly tried 
to stand Its ground, 
“*I must leave now,' she continued, ‘but 
here is my card, and If you coiue to see me 
most any evening I shull be glad to see you. 
and perhaps we can be of service to each other.' 
“ She gave me her little gloved hand, and tu 
my dying daj 1 shall never forget the (sensation 
of that moment. 1 could not hear to part with 
her; without her t felt that I could do noth¬ 
ing; with her I could grow to man's estate—a 
man in the truest sense of the word. From 
that moment tobacco never passed my Jips. 
“ As soon as I could summon courage 1 called 
upon that lady. \VH| do I remember how my 
heart beat as I waited In the elegant parlor 
for her to come down, and how awkward 1 felt 
as T follow ed my guide to her, private sitting 
room. Here she got at every point of my life, 
and before I hade her good-bye it was arranged 
that I should spend two evenings of each week 
at her house and study on these occasions Just 
what, she thought best. 
“No lover ever looked forward to the meet¬ 
ings with the mistress of his heart any more 
ardently than 1 did to these meetings with ray 
friend. 
“ I grew careful of my personal appearance, 
careful of my conversation, ami strove in every 
way to be worthy of tnis noble friendship. 
Two years passed In this delightful manner- 
two years that made me. My friend not only 
attended to my studies, striving also all the 
while to sow the right kind of spiritual seed, 
but she procured me a business situation with 
a partiojlar friend of hers, where 1 remain to 
this day. Nobody but God knows w hat I owe 
this woman. During the last three months of 
those two years 1 noticed that she grew con¬ 
stant Iy pale and thin; she never was betrayed 
into speaking of herself. Sometimes when 1 
asked her if she felt worse than usual she 
would reply : 
“‘Oh, no! I am only a little tired—that Is all.' 
“ One evening she kept me by her sofa longer 
than was her custom while she arranged les¬ 
sons and laid out work enough, it seemed to 
me, for months. 
‘“Why so much to-niglit?’ 1 Inquired,con¬ 
scious that my heart ached, and vaguely sus¬ 
pecting The cause. 
“ ‘ Because, dear,* she answered, ‘ 1 do not 
want you to come for the next week, and I am 
anxious that you should have sufficient work 
to anticipate as well as to keep you busy, i 
think 1 can trust you to be a good boy, John ? 
“’I think you can, ma’am,' I answered, al¬ 
most sobbing. 
“‘If I should see your mother, my dear boy, 
before long, what shall I say to her for you ?’ 
"Then I knew all, and my grief knew* no 
hounds. Il Is of no use to go on. She died 
two days after, and when I hear folks saying, 
‘there’s a woman at the hottom of it,’ 1 feel 
like telling the whole world what a woman did 
for me."—American Citizen. 
■--- 
HATE LOVE. 
The absent daughter, married Jand far away, 
sends home a tiny curl in a lettep-it is that of 
her first-born. “ The softest, silkiest, brightest 
hair, she verily believes, in all the world! And 
its dear little head Is covered with it like so 
many rings of gold. Ah, If they could but see 
it!" Why, it seems bat yesterday she was a 
child herself, the merriest of the household 
band—the most mischief-loving, provoking, 
and yet fascinating being one can well imagine. 
Threats and reproof were alike thrown away 
upon her; but a fond word would bring her to 
her mother’s side In a moment, all penitence 
and humility, although ten to one the next she 
was as wild as ever. Hut she become grave all 
of a sudden, married, and took to housekeep¬ 
ing by instinct, as it were, for she could have 
had little experience In these mutters; hut 
loving makes us apt scholars, and she became a 
very pattern wife and mother. We need not 
say how the tiny curl will he kept and prized 
by the happy grandmother, who wept with Joy 
as she remembered all this. Mindful, at the 
same time, with the sad experience which is 
the heritage of old age, of the preearlousness 
of human felicity, and how many as bright 
buds of fair promise as the golden-hatred child 
were now among the angels of heaven ! 
The young soldier, porlshlug on the field ol 
glory, prays with his dying breath that a lock 
of his hair may be cut off and sent in remem¬ 
brance of him to tils mother and dear Mary. 
And when It reaches them, having traveled,' 
perhaps, hundreds of miles, how sacred and 
holy is much a relic? We can fancy the aged 
mother's tears and kisses, ami " his Mary” lay¬ 
ing it on her heart, and never being known to 
smile again on earth, although she continues 
meek and patient to the last. 
The death of a beloved object seldom fails to 
sanctify and make us better—to wean us gently 
from earth and heaven ; such, at least, is the 
intention of all our afflictions, if we could only 
but think so; while change and estrangement 
harden and petrify the affections until they 
seem turned to stone! “ It Is a perilous thing," 
says Frederica Bremer, " when the beloved 
Image la the heart of man Is destroyed.” 
The lover sends a lock of liatr to his mistress, 
friend to friend, parent to child, child to par¬ 
ent. We verily believe this same hair love to 
be universal, and pregnant with a thousand 
romantic and touching episodes. 
-- 
SPARKS AND SPLINTERS. 
About women—Men. 
The dead of winter—Files. 
Engaged for every set—A hen. 
Any kind of a door is knobby. 
Fretwork—V exation of spirit. 
Weather report—A thunder clap. 
Interest ing man—A bank clerk. 
Decline of the bar—Closing ol saloons. 
A pair of drawers A span of truck horses. 
The cross paths-'Allopath and homoeopath. 
The hymn for the Centennial -Old Hundred. 
An era unknown to women—The middle 
ages. 
Sure to produce short crops—The barber’s 
shears. 
Ministers of the interior—The cook and the 
doctor. 
What Is the key for a Christmas box? A 
t ur-key. 
A bad habit t© get into—A coat that Is not 
paid for. 
A sure recipe to remove stains from charac¬ 
ter—Get rich. 
Epitaph for a cannibal—'“ One who loved his 
follow-men.” 
When does a[chaii dislike you? When it 
can't bear you. 
When is a horse not worth a shilling ? When 
he is worthless. 
An unpleasant sort of arithmetic—Division 
among families. 
When are two kings like three miles? When 
they make a league. 
The latest and best woman's movement- 
spring house cleaning. 
Why Is grass like a penknife? Because the 
spring brings out the blades? 
Farmers gather what they sow, while seam¬ 
stresses sew what they gather. 
Mrs. Cree, who took a second husband the 
other day, evidently wanted to ere-mate. 
Why is an Industrious woman like a clock? 
Because her hands are incessantly at work. 
Dobbs thinks that instead of giving credit 
where credit is due, the cash had better be paid. 
A Yankee doctor has recently got up a rem¬ 
edy for hard times. It consists of ten hours’ 
labor well worked in. 
An ambitious debating society is recom¬ 
mended to take as Us next subject, " Which is 
the butt-end of a goat?" 
Ip it takes a man two days to make a post- 
hole in broken ground, how long will it take 
him to make a broken post whole ? 
The following appeared in an Edinburgh 
paper“ We regret to find that the announce¬ 
ment of the death of Mr. W. is a malicious fab¬ 
rication." 
A PUGILISTIC Irishman in England being 
bound over to keep the peace on all British 
subjects, remarked:—“ The saints help the first 
fofelgner I meet.” 
The mayor of a Portugese city once enumer¬ 
ated, among tho marks by which the body of a 
drowned man might be identified, “ A marked 
impediment in bis speech." 
“Father, forgive them for they know not 
what they do," was Dean Stanley’s text when 
he preached to the newly-wed Duke and Duch¬ 
ess of Edinburgh, soon after their arrival in 
London. 
by aliqua. 
Over the river and up the hill 
SweepB the tireless wind on its way, 
Lingering not by the portals still 
Closed to the light of Joy and day 
Portals of marble keeping the gloom. 
Guarding tho sleepers’ dreamless rest - 
Portals marked only by lilies' bloom, 
All In robes of God's giving dressed. 
The restless wind and tho quiet grave ' 
Types of life and the coining rest. 
Howsoever the tempest may rave, 
god gives peace to the t rusting breast 
So, past the river and up the hill. 
Let the wild wind nweop on Its way! 
We shall pass on over tteuth’B door-sill— 
Out through darkness into the day, 
-*--*-♦- 
TO-DAY. 
To-day! do we appreciate its value? Well- 
spent days are sparkling drops in Eternity’s 
ocean. They are shining gems, scattered alt 
along tiro peaceful pathway which leads to hap- 
plness. The world is panting in its wild chase 
for happiness. O, why do bo many, with all 
their .strivings, fail to obtain it? Is it not be¬ 
cause the eyes are strained on some delusive 
Will-o’-the-Wisp, ever flitting about the shad¬ 
ow y mists of To-mOiimv ? while, 'neath unheed¬ 
ing feet, the golden hours of To-day are tram¬ 
pled. To-dny so fraught with precious oppor¬ 
tunities—let It not he wasted. 
To-day let our hearts overflow with love to 
God, and love to our neighbor. In the waves 
of this love may each harsh woid and unkind 
thought be drowned. To-day let us be patient, 
virtuous, truthful. To-day may we strive to 
make home pleasant and those around us hap¬ 
py. To sum I! all, Jet, us daily endeavor to live 
a true mid earnest Christian life. 
Jui.ie Reynolds Beers. 
——-■ 
GEMS OF CHRISTIAN THOUGHT. 
Work in obedience to the Master’s bidding 
will be followed by the sure evidence of His 
divine power and life, Intolleetual force often 
fails to unbar the gates of light and truth. The 
closet may have no window looking into heav¬ 
en ; the idlers and consumers in the vineyard 
cannot know the mystery of the kingdom; but 
to those who are willing to toil and do needed 
service, there is granted an insight and knowl¬ 
edge tlia'. are able to withstand every assault, 
becam e It Is personal and present. The serv¬ 
ant- that drew I he water never were troubled 
With doubts regarding tho miracle at Cana of 
Galilee. 
In all grades of human intelligence and cul¬ 
ture there are three cycles of development— 
tho physical, the intellectual, the spiritual. 
That which is rational in man is higher than 
the animal, and that which is spiritual higher 
than the rational. To develop the animal Is to 
develop tin* lowest nature- to develop the in¬ 
tellectual Is to develop tlioIntermediate nature 
to develop the spiritual la to develop the high¬ 
est nature of man that which makes him God¬ 
like, that which readies forth to eternity, with 
no limit to Its growing capacity. 
A newspaper paragraph states the fact that 
a telegraph office for the dispatch of messages 
in Turkish and foreign languages, has now been 
established at Bethlehem, on which the Ob¬ 
server remarks: -** The message received at 
Bethlehem In years long gone by, has thrilled 
the world Glory to God in the highest; and 
on earth peace, good will toward men." 
As we pass along the street, is It not strange 
to feel that we may pass our future home? 
Somewhere in the world is the room where we 
shall He down and die—somewhere is the door 
whence mourners shall carry us out. 
The tone of a story becomes Christian when 
most prominence is given to the nobler charac¬ 
ter, when warning is kept behind example, and 
satire is made subordinate to encouragement. 
If thou endurest wrong for Christ’s sake, he 
is a Revenger; If sorrow, he Is a Comforter; if 
sickness, he is a Physician : If loss he is a Res¬ 
torer ; if life he is a Reviver. 
Evert one must think in his own way in 
order to arrive at truth. But lie ought to keep 
himself in band : we are too good for pure in¬ 
stinct.— Goethe. 
-The beloved of the Almighty are the rich 
who have tho humility of the poor, and the 
poor who have the magnanimity of the rich.— 
Saadi. 
What God effects through the powers with 
which he has endowed man is no less hia woik 
than the heavens and the earth are.—A. P. Pea¬ 
body. 
The temperate are the most truly luxurious. 
By abstaining from most things, it is surprising 
how many things we enjoy .—Sim put. 
The power is detested, aud miserable is the 
lire of him who wishes rather to be feared than 
to he loved-—Cornelius Nepos. 
Be hobie-minded 1 Our own heart, and not 
other men's opinions of us, forms our true 
honor. 
The weakness of the heart is sometimes 
stronger than its strength. i 
