JUNE S 
THE CENTENNIAL 
eral overseer to the few men who worked the 
farm, the dear old lady was alone most of the 
year round. 
Doha (danced Indolently at the superscrip¬ 
tion and exclaimed, “Only another of grand¬ 
ma's recipes. I suppose 1" 
“Mercy!” cried Mabel*. “ for pity sake don't 
read another of those things! What does pos- 
sess grandma to send recipes so constantly ?'* 
In explanation of this I must deviate from 
my story a moment. Grandma was always 
home to warm papa's slippers, a thing you 
would not stoop to remember, I am afraid.” 
Mabel smiled an aggravating sort of smile, 
and said calmly :-“My only fear is that Ethel 
would not be of the least use If she should go, 
since she Is so heedless and such a child.” 
Instantly I tacked about and defended my 
slandered dignity warmly. I declared that 
rather than show myseir so selfish as some folks 
not. five miles out of town, I would prove my 
capability of taking care of grandma If papa 
wished me to go: and was rewarded in- a nicch 
the candies to lie open in my lap, or perhaps I 
had not covered myself sufficiently with the 
mantle of dlgnlty.but at any rate an Impertinent 
old gentleman addressed me as " little girl,” 
and asked If ho might share my seat, I slipped 
Ibe candies into my pxsket, Informed the in¬ 
truder stiffly that the seat was not reserved, 
and vouchsafed him no further attention, 
which conduct, ns far as dignity was concerned, 
I considered worthy of Mabel's highest praise, 
and resolved to toll her all about It I 
letter, f * 
received the reply that 
like a very rude, untutored child, if 
had really been so 
A Song of American Farmers. 
Ttia?tk Goa again, 
The winter chain 
No longer Is around us. 
But every hand 
O’er all tbe land 
Leaps from the links that bound 11 s. 
Tue cloudy March 
Beneath Heaven’s Arch 
His trump to us was blowing : 
We Join t he sound 
O'er waiting ground 
With Plowing and with Hoeing. 
In Winter's rests 
Our Human breasts 
Had time for sweet communing. 
But not forgot. 
In many a lot 
The Summer's Joyous nooning; 
Thus on Earth’s sod 
Has Father God 
Given life its varied stories. 
And now wo go 
With Plow and Hoo 
For Labor’s growing glories. 
Hurrah ! Hurrah! 
We love the Law 
That elves alone true station 
Since he began, 
’Tls work makes man 
Companion In creation; 
And. O can he 
More noble be 
Than out ’mid Nature’s forces 
While God's Byes see 
His harmony. 
With Seedtime's, Harvest’s, courses? 
Brothers, hurrah 
For love of Law, 
And lf’t could hate more growing. 
O, sure It shall— 
Centennial 
Is almost on us glowing! 
A Hundred Years 
Of Mind’s. Arm's, spheres 
For millions have been rolling: 
Joy 1 Freedom’s Bell. 
KxulMnt swell 1 
All Earth hours thy grand tolling. 
Then let us make 
With Plow, Hoe, Rake, 
This year yield Crown Ovation 
Upon our god 
Unto the God 
Of Freedom’s and Work’s Nation. 
I TVm, Itotu Wallace. 
— n my first 
[T will mention now that I did bo, and 
—j “ I must have appeared 
- ’ ray manner 
ungracious."] 
-depot was reached at last, and I knew 
a short wagon ride would tako me to grandma's 
snug farm In-well, I’ll call tt rirnndford, no 
need for real names. Picking up my bundles, 
l stepped upon the Little platform, and there 
was the well-remembered old rock away, with 
patient “ Dobbin,” whoso tall was as short as 
ever, and whose mane would go the wrong way, 
waiting for me, while a young fellow, whip in 
hand, stood beside the carriage and watched 
each passenger who passed. Hastening for¬ 
ward, T said not quite certain whether I wore 
right—" Seth, are you waiting for me?" He 
turned quickly and lifted his cap. “Why, 
Mias Ethie, I should hardly have known you I” 
“ You are changed, too," J replied ; “ Indeed, I 
wasn't sure If. was you, nfter all.’” He laughed, 
blushed a little, and said, “A fellow has a 
obanoe for that In two years and a half-almost 
three years, In fact, Miss ETniK.” 
Was it really so long since I had been to the 
farm ? ^ < 33 , for f remembered how my happy 
visit had been suddenly concluded by a sum¬ 
mons home to maruum, who had been taken so 
ill with what proved to bo her last sickness. I 
reoullod It all distinctly. My childish terror 
lest she should die before Seth could possibly 
leave me at tbe depot. And 1 remembered how 
BY MARY D. BRTRE 
THE QIJ 
the trial proved successful the recipe was seut 
to us, out of ibe goodness of the dear old heart, 
aad we were advised to try It by all means. A a 
our cook could never bo induced fco look with 
favor upon any recipe not originally taken 
from the French, or I should say. more ele¬ 
gantly, not a hi Francaixe, not one of grandma’s 
concoctions had been fairly tested. Of this the 
dear soul remained profoundly Ignorant, and 
every few days a new one would reach us, until 
at last Mabel's patience was considerably on 
the wauo, as her exclamation alone provod. 
“ But this letter does not contain the usual 
inclosure,’’ said papa, stepping into his slip, 
pers, which the “ black sheep " bad warmed for 
him. “Read It,D oha, and seo what you think.” 
My sister read aloud as follows : 
: t/ 'y ' 311 you would spare one of 
the girls for a little while. I am not as spry as 
I used to he, and somehow the rheumatics are 
getting sort of troublesome again. I’m get¬ 
ting well on in years, you know, and there’s 
many a day when my old heart pines for com¬ 
pany. Seth s a good boy, but he’s young, am) 
foela lonely too. Can’t one of the girls corne 
up for a spell i it ain’t very lively about hme, 
to be sure, but maybe I could manage to make 
om comfortable, somehow. I haven't much 
on the cheek from Doha, who praised my 
spunk, and a loving smile from papa; while 
Mabel suggested that I should lengthen tny 
dresses and practice walking about the room 
Instead of going on a hop, skip and jump. 1 
helped her put to rights her work-basket, which 
for the third time that evening, I had upset, 
and k'ssed the Trown from her handsome face 
with proper penitence, then perching myself 
on my father's knee wo discussed the farm 
questlou freely. 
It must be confessed that inwardly I repented 
my sudden decision, for X knew that grandma’s 
best room was by no means as comfortable a 
room as my own warm little uest at home; and 
as March had come in with plenty of snow and 
wind, 1 knew that for some weeks to come I 
should inwardly yearn for the register and 
other home comforts. But I did not intend to 
let Mabel or Dora know of these thoughts, so 
my face donned a merry smile and not even 
papa guessed that I secretly wished grandma's 
letter In Jericho. Papa told Mabel to write at 
once and say that I would bo there the follow¬ 
ing week. 
In order to leave a memorable impression 
upon the elegant minds of my sisters, t devoted 
my last hotne-days to a series of wild pranks 
which drove Mabel quite frantic, and com- 
polled Dora to turn tell-tale and report mo to 
papa. He wouldn't scold, however, because 
13 nun ooen sitting alone all the evening, my 
sisters M ABELand Doha and T, Papa had gone 
out, and mamma—dear mammal—was with ua 
only as sweet memory gave her back to us. She 
bad always been an invalid, and her death, we 
knew, was only a glad transition from pain and 
constant unrest to perfect peace in the “ Better 
Land." So ourgilef and Ioueliuess were robbed 
of their sharpest etlngs, and we had alnoe her 
death devoted ourselves more closely to papa, 
who even yet dared not trust himself to speak 
of bis lost wife. 
Mabel was our eldest, Dora next, and then 
I—aged sixteen. They say every family has Its 
“black sheep,” and as certainly no sensible (or 
at least discreet) person would presume to In¬ 
sinuate such a thing where Mabel arid Doha 
were concerned, I suppose! was the unfortu¬ 
nate animal so designated. At any rate, I re¬ 
member Mabel used to reprimand mo oftener 
than I liked for being such a “tomboy," aDd 
Doha would elevate ber arched brows In su¬ 
preme disgust because I occasionally whistled 
one of the popular airs of the day—'“Madame 
Angot," for Instance, which my sister Mabel 
insisted was “ decidedly vulgar.’’ Pana scolded 
of.tji brought in my trunk, and I noticed that 
his eyes rested with more than ordinary affec¬ 
tion upon grandma as he listened to some di¬ 
rection concerning the farm hands, and also 
that, just as she used to, she consulted his 
opinion on various matters and deferred to his 
young judgment. In a way that surprised me. 
\Vben wc were alone that eveulng r said, 
Now tell me, grandma, what is there about 
oetit Brooks that you appear so- well, so 
attached to him? Considering he Is only a 
farm hand-*’ 
“My child," Interrupted she, “do not look 
upon Seth as only a common farm hand. He 
is by birth our equal. 
daughter of my oldest friend 
death she t— 4 * * - 
near to poverty that, the wolf v.„„ , 
hei cottage door only by strenuous 
on her part. Her parents had died 
fore. She had no friends whose frlen 
worth the name, and when sickness came she 
begged me to take her boy and bring him up to 
work for a fair. Independent livelihood. She 
did not wish him to live idly upon my support, 
but to give, so far as his strength would allow, 
some return for my care and protection. I had 
loved her mother; 1 lovsd her, and I promised 
to love ber boy. When she died he came to 
roe, a boy of twelve. I learned to love him for 
)ls own noble self’s sake, and I valued his 
ceaseless efforts to lighten the debt of depend¬ 
ence. He has grown np, as It were, under my 
wing. I have been llko an old hen with one 
chick, dear; and because I have loved my boy 
I have spoiled him, do you think? Not so. 
Uls Is too noble a nature for spoiling to be 
possible, ainl now I trust him, rely upon him, 
His mother was the 
- 1 . Before her 
was Urst widowed, then .brought so 
’ was kept from 
exertions 
years be- 
isbip was 
