FE1. 40 
money, when by the defective construction of a 
scaffolding, he fell from a building and broke his 
leg. 11 was a compound fracture and a very se¬ 
rious injury. From this bn had sufficiently recov¬ 
ered to get about nicely and waa now seeking em¬ 
ployment. During his Illness, however, all his 
savings had been used up and he had sold nearly 
all the be6t of his furniture to get. money with 
which to buy food aod medicines. 
Mary thought of all this and wondered why It 
was that Gon In all his goodness Bhould permit so 
much suffering to come to people who always 
tried to do their duly and live honestly and up¬ 
rightly. While sUll working upon the problem, 
the door was opened with a swing and In rushed 
a lad about fourteen years of age, presenting to 
his mother a picture of perfect health and spirits. 
“ What's the matter, mother? What have you 
been crying about t Where’s father 7 Das he 
got home yet?” and, without waiting for a reply 
to any of his questions, he drew a chair up beside 
his mother and took her hand In his, stroking It 
tenderly meanwhile. 
Thu was too much for poor Mary. She had 
been growing more despondent, every moment 
and needed only tills display of affection from her 
Idol boy to break her down completely. She burst. 
Into (ears afresh and cried m tf her heart would 
break. The boy’s eyes filled at. once with moist¬ 
ure In spite Of his attempt to rostraln himself, 
and he Insisted upon knowing what wras the mat¬ 
ter. Whercupou Mary related to him what had 
taken place between Mr. Hadley and herself a 
short time previous to his entrance, and repeated 
his emphatic demand for the rent or removal on 
the morrow, “flow you know, Kan,"she added, 
“your father has no work and no money and we 
have no place to move to and what we shall do, I 
don’t Know.” 
“Neither do 1 know, mother,”said Ned, “but 
one thing 1 am certain of, Old Hadley shall not 
come to this house to-morrow." 
“ Why, how can you prevent him, Ned?” 
“Never mind, I’ll stop him—you see if I don’t.” 
Just then John entered the door and Ned's 
statement was forgotten by Mary In the pleasure 
of meeting her husband and sharing with him 
her sorrow. Poor John: he had already enough 
to bear, ills mission t hat day had been unsuc¬ 
cessful and he had no money with which to buy 
even a supper, noplng, however, for tho best, 
they all three wont hungry to bed that night.. 
With a heavy heart John parted from his poor 
wile on the following morning and again sought 
employment. F.arly In the artemoon he returned, 
much brighter in appearance than when he had 
gone out. and with several little paper parcels in 
his arms. He told his wife the result of his half¬ 
day’s search. He had procured employment In 
shoveling the snow from the sidewalk and had 
earned u dollar; In addition to which, lie had se¬ 
cured a place for Ned as errand-boy at, three dol¬ 
lars per vreok. “ Where Is Ned?” he exclaimed, 
looking around him; “It Is nearly three o’clock, 
and high time he returned from school. Well, I 
must go and find him, for he must, call upon Mr. 
Condit this evening to receive bis instruction.-; in 
relation to bl8 employment,.” baying which, ho 
took his ha t. and started. 
In the meantime, Ned had collected a number 
of his school-fellows together and told them the 
6 tory of Old tudley s doings and Intentions. 
“Now." said Ned, who was Immensely popular 
with the boys, “let us all wait on the corner 
hero, and, when the old codger comes along, give 
him such a snow-balling that he will be glad to 
get away from the neighborhood.” “Just the 
thing 1" cried a chorus of voices. 
They had not long to watt Promptly at three 
o’clock, along came the slock, oily Uadly, little 
thinking of the reception awaiting him. Just as 
ho arrived at, the corner near tho street-lamp, a 
snow-ball struck him in the middle of the back. 
Turning to soo what It was all about., one came 
from the other direction and struck his arm. This 
somewhat confused him, and ho raised his um¬ 
brella to shake It at somebody, bo didn't exactly 
know who, when a shower of snow-halls came 
flying at him. Hla hat was knocked off, he drop¬ 
ped his umbrella, and started for a little knot of 
boys. If was no use: They were behind him, 
and on every side of him. They pelted him, and 
continued till he was glad to got around the cor¬ 
ner and get away as soon as he could. Just then 
John came upon the scone of action—a little too 
late, however, to sec what had been done. He 
was just going across the street to tell Ned to 
come home, wbeu he walked face to face up to 
his old friend and shop-mate, Charles Ricketts. 
u Hello, John! Where have you boon? i have¬ 
n’t seen you in ton years. Why man, you look 
sick. What’s the matter? How Is Mary and that 
baby? He must be quite a boy, now. What, are 
you doing?” 
“l can't answer all your questions at once. 
Charles; but there Is the ‘baby,’ as you call 
him,” pointing to Ned, who was standing on the 
opposite side ot the street. 
“What, that hoy? Why, he’s a trump! He 
led the crowd that just pelted Old Hadley out of 
tho street, with snow-balls, and 1 think nobody 
will be sorry that the old skinflint got his deserts 
for once. But that Is neither here nor there. You 
are Just the man I want to see—Just, exactly the 
man. 1 have a large contract, upon that building 
erected whore the Are was in Broadway last 
month, and I was looking for Just such a man as 
you aro for that work. Can you leave your pres¬ 
ent place and go to work tor me to-morrow’? I can 
give you steady employment the year round.' 
“ Well, If 1 am the man you have been looking 
for, you are certainly the man! have been search¬ 
ing after, for I have been out of employment a 
whole year.” .John then related to his friend the 
misfortunes which had befallen him, and told 
him about Old Hadlkv. 
“ Never mind,” said Fjceetts. “ Here is a twen¬ 
ty dollar bill which I will advance you oo your 
wages. Pay Old Hadley. Qx yourself up with a 
good supper and come down to the building In the 
morning ready to goto work.” And off went Rick¬ 
etts, without waiting to hear another word. 
To eay that John was happy, would hardly ex¬ 
press his feelings. Ned came off well. Tho pun¬ 
ishment which he should have received for his 
rudeness to Old Hadley, it is needless to say, was 
never Inflicted; nor did Mart ever know' why It. 
was that. Old Hadlev failed to make bis appear¬ 
ance at three o’clock, as he had promised. 
■-*-»-*- 
SINGING FOR A WIFE. 
Early in the spring we had put up a wren- 
house on our tall evergreen. It was a miniature 
house, only It had no windows and hud no roof to 
the piazza; and lor a door It had a round hole. 
Just exactly big enough for a wren and no bigger, 
else tbe bluebirds would have taken It for theirs. 
Now they could not. get In, and only a dear wee 
brown wren could have It. Our Gretchen was de¬ 
lighted, and danced up and down before it most 
of the time. Hhe was afraid she should not see tho 
birds take possession. By the middle of June 
wrens were in town, flitting around old mossy 
apple trees and singing everywhere. *• Will they 
never come here?” said impatient, Gretchen. Very 
early one morning there was a new song among 
the robins and finches. Gretchen rushed down, 
In her night-gown. Yes, there he sat, on the top 
of the bird-house, pouring out a flood of song, lie 
broke off suddenly and popped In the round hole; 
then came out arid sat on the piazza and sang 
again. “Ob’” he was saying, “tilts is the dear¬ 
est little house. How happy my wife and 1 will 
be here.” This reminded him that he had no wife 
yet; so be flew to tho tree-lop. haply to call her. 
Perched among the sweet-smelling boughs, up 
against tbe sky, he sang as If be would split his 
very throat, “ Come, my dearie; O come to me!” 
Across the fields floated the song and penetrated 
the thick shade of the orchard. But she did not 
hear, did not. come. Again he inspected his house 
and again he sang with a courageous heart. 
Jenny came not. He flew to the orchard, and 
from every tree-top we could hear his song, long 
and loud. The second day the merry bachelor 
prepared for his bride by bringing slicks and ar¬ 
ranging them carefully within the tenement. 
“ Oh I" sang be, *’ 1 have tbe snuggest bouse, high 
up the above the reach of the cats. Come, wlflo; 
come, Jenny.” 
Thus day by day the lit tle fellow called and en¬ 
treated with a stone heart. Gretchen fidgeted 
and w ondered where the Jen Dies could keep them¬ 
selves, when such a charming companion was to 
be had, The days grow long and dry and hot. 
Blue mists hung over the mountains, but no rain 
fell. Swallows swam the air In twos and threes. 
The fatherly robin flew back and forth at bis 
happy work- The blockblrdslaunr.bc'Hhciryoung 
brood Into life with great ado. Only the wren 
had no mate. We fancied a Badness crept Into 
the notes, and be seemed to sing wearily, waiting 
and calling nil day long for a companion that 
cams not,. Those two weeks must have been as 
long to him as t wo years to us. 
One day we were all gone for a walk except 
Gretchen, who sat on the front door-step In sight 
of the bird house. We were away for a long t ime, 
strolling on the rtver-banks. Presently we saw 
Gretchen running toward ns. Bhecamenp tluahed 
and happy, her very heart in her mouth. She 
caught hold other rather, pulled his head down 
and whispered something In Ills ear. He laughed, 
turned, and whispered the same loud to us: 
“ Wrenny’B wile has come.” 
We hastened home to see: and t here she truly 
was, as quiet as a mouse, listening while ho In 
rapture expatiated on all the delightful qualities 
of the house and laid himself and possessions at 
her foot. She graciously accepted him. In proof 
thereof taking out every stick he had put In, 
t hrowing them away as so much trash. Her man¬ 
ner said, “ What do you bachelors know of house¬ 
keeping?” Ho she built her own nest and raised 
her brood of six and brought, them out In good 
order without a single mishap. And Gretchen 
saw It all. 
THE “ODD COME SHORTLY.” 
“Odd come shortlles never do well,” said an 
old lady to me one day, 
“ Will you please tell me what odd come short- 
lies are?” 1 asked. 
“ Well,” said tho old lady, “ I mean any odd ac¬ 
quaintance that you pick up In an Irregular man¬ 
ner—haven’t been properly Introduced to—and 
know nothing about their antecedents. They 
never turn out well. Did you ever know them to 
do so? Think, my dear.” 
I thought. I had at, Aral dashed at. the conclu¬ 
sion that the old lady was wrong; but on reflec¬ 
tion 1 replied to the question laconically, “No, 
ma’am, they ilo not..’ 
Yet to whom does the eon tiding heart ot woman 
turn ho promptly as to an “odd come shortly?” 
You travel In the car with her and she borrows 
your rnagaztne and lends you her t raveling cup, 
and you confide to each other that it. does or does 
not make you ill to ride backward and, liking the 
color of her eyes, you cement a friendship becatiso 
of the surprising coincidence that her little boy Is 
the same age as your little girl, and that, they 
both like cream cakes! Why is she more likely 
to turn out badly than if she were your second 
cousin’s daughter? I can’t tell you. I don’t 
know; but she will. After she has called on you 
and borrowed your waterproof and silk umbrella 
and begged a letter of Introduct ion to your pastor 
and hoped you will call to see her, and wondered 
that such congenial souls never met before, 
strange things will happen; your waterproof and 
silk umbrella will be things that were to you, and 
you will miss the little wr <l'antique from theeta- 
gere and never see the purse that was lying on 
the table again. 
These people do not atways vanish so myste¬ 
riously. It is the mission of many of them to be 
bores—to come, on the strength of the “ fancy” 
they have taken to you, to breakfast and to stay 
to lunch and afterward to tea—to look over your 
shoulder while you write or read and to ply you 
wit h questions until yon could shriek—to be al¬ 
ways “communicative, without having anything 
to communicate," «d<1 to become as unbearable 
In the end as was sinbad’s Old Man of the Sea. 
” Know her!" cries some long-suffering friend. 
“How I do pity you! How did sh get Intro¬ 
duced ?” Then you remember she was not Intro¬ 
duced at all. She called one morning to hope that 
her canary did not. trouble you by singing so much, 
“because, if It did, she’d send It away, much as 
She loved Ik” 
So sweet of her, ou know. Y'et to-day, when 
you look at her, you repeat the old lady’s Yaukee- 
lsm and say, “Odd come shortlles never turn out 
well.” 
A circus company, on their way to Australia, 
stopped to see one of the FIJI Islands. While 
wandering about, one of them turned a somersault , 
and t he native spectators were astounded by the 
sight. Thereafter, the circus men, discerning the 
opportunity for fun. varied their walks by fre¬ 
quent somersaults ft »d grotesque contortions, all 
the time maintaining sober faces, and the utmost, 
gravity or demeanor. Multitudes followed them, 
In tho belief t hey were missionaries, sent to teach 
a religion In which somersaults were a part of the 
service. 
-♦ ♦♦- 
A French railway company at Jvry ,1s building 
a novel car to be used on tho little railroad be¬ 
tween Bayonne and Biarritz It Is of iron, pan¬ 
eled with wood, and will seat. 6ft passengers. It 
has a baggage room and a smoking room, separate 
compartments for three classes of passengers. 
Xilftari) <Mot 15. 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Whnt Nhnll We Do To-nlalit? Or, Social 
Amusement* for KvonuiK Hurtle*— furniGiirta 
complete and varied pri;i«r»nnne* for 35 enter¬ 
tainment*. By USDUKB D. MAVNE fl* mO — PP. 
lift). Prtce $2.) New York : Dick A Fitzgerald. 
Here Is a book for young and old, for rich and 
poor; a book not to be read through at, once and 
then laid aside, hut which will serve to entertain 
and amuse, If not to Instruct, and the world needs 
amusement as well as instruction. In almost 
every community there is a stereotyped set of 
games and plays that have been used year after 
year with little variations, and a stranger who 
Introduces something new Is looked upon as a 
public benefactor. How, then, shall the author 
and publisher of this book be properly thanked? 
They give to the public puzzles and tricks, char- 
actor Tableaux, Pantomimes, Dialogues nnd Par¬ 
lor Theatricals, a Punch and Judy show. Ac,, Ac. 
These are arranged so as to give a full variety 
each evening for 26 evenings, but the order need 
not be followed. If desired, selections from a 
number of entertainments can be used for one 
evening. Howto make dwarfs nnd giants, ele¬ 
phants and giraffes, tricks with cards and strings, 
and an hundred others, are clearly set, fort h and 
explained by pictorial Illustrations when neces¬ 
sary. Oneof these books in a neighborhood wllldo 
tnucll to answer tho question so often asked dur¬ 
ing long winter evenings, What shall w e do to¬ 
night? 
ty i Or. Adventures In Moun- 
CHIUSTIAN KEID. (Svo.—pp. 
tain Bv-wity*. lty CHRISTIAN Brio 
ISO. Paper. Price Toots.) New Y'ork 
ton A Co. 
Apple- 
Western Noktu Carolina abounds In line sce¬ 
nery. Its mountains are higher than any others 
east or the Mississippi, Its rivers are clear and 
rapid. Its forests are wild and luxuriant. The pro¬ 
fessional tourist neglects this vicinity for the rea¬ 
son that traveling faculties are not equal to bis 
desires, but the lover of nature will find the lo¬ 
cality none the less pleasing on that account. 
The book recite® the sayings and doings ot a fam¬ 
ily party who entered the mountains by way of 
Asheville which. Itself 2,000 feet above the sea, 
lies near some of the finest, peaks and immediately 
contiguous to tho French Broad, one of the most 
attractive of rivers, and Its principal branch well 
named the Swananoa, or the bcautirul. 
We have seldom read a more entertaining and 
Instructive book; for the descriptive portions may 
ho relied upon, and there is sufficient adventure 
to keep tip a lively Interest, with Just enough 
love-making to make the story seem true to life. 
The Illustrations are numerous and spirited, add¬ 
ing much to the attractiveness of the volume. 
Fourteen Week# In Zoology. By . 1 . Dorman 
Stkei.k, Now York A. 8. Barnes A Co. (Oct.; 
pp. I«B. Price $1.40.) 
This Is another of the “ Steele’s Series in the 
Natural Sciences.” It Is adapted specially for 
sehools, but will be found of Interest to every 
lover of the subject. It Is profusely Illustrated, 
presenting a picture of every an I real mentioned 
and in many instances, must,ratlhg their peculi¬ 
arities and distinctive features. The text Is con¬ 
densed, but sufficiently full to give an excellent 
idea of each animal. This book can be used with 
benefit In every house where there are growing 
children. 
kMratjf grafting. 
TRUST IN GOD. 
When life’s sun is warm and bright. 
And there comes no starless night; 
When o’er an untrodden *ea 
Thyliark glideth peacefully. 
Trust, in God t 
And when adverse tempests swell. 
And the muttering thunders tell 
That the storm must surely fall. 
Then, beneath the gloomy pall. 
Trust in God ’ 
When life has no bitter part. 
And no sorrow rends thy heart, 
When no tear drop dims thine eye. 
And no wasting grief comes nigh. 
Trust in God! 
When affliction, stern, severe, 
To thy fireside draweth near! 
When thy soul Is sore oppress’d— 
In this hour of and unrest. 
Trust in God! 
When thy earthly strength shall fail. 
And thon comest to tho vole 
Through which mortals all must go 
From their pilgrimage below. 
Trust in God! 
[Christian Leader. 
THOUGHTS FOR THINKERS. 
No roan’s religion ever survives his morals. 
Man is an animal that, cannot long be left in 
safety without, occupation; the growth of his fal¬ 
low nature is apt to run into weeds. 
Those who would have the blessing of CnKisT 
must be In good earnest and Importunate for It, 
as those that resolve they will have no denial, it 
i - the (errant prayerthatlsthe effectual prayer. 
The Israelite had no doubt of hi* healing ns 
long as he looked to the brazen serpent, for ho felt 
It, going on; nor will the soul doubt of Its accept¬ 
ance with God ho long as It looks to Christ,—John 
Angel Jet men. 
When one lias been long and far away from an 
earthly home, what a happy sight to see brothers 
and 81st era all crow ding to the dcor to see us In. 
What Is that but a dim Image of wbat will be seen 
at the gates Of glory 7— Guthrie. 
Richard Cecil once said, “Tho people look ut a 
minister out of the pulpit to see If he means what 
he says when he is In It.” In other words, he 
must live religion, as well as preach It, If he would 
give to his preaching any value or effect. 
Never sit. down and brood over trouble of any 
kind. It you are vexed with yourself or the 
world, t his Is no way to obtain satisfaction. Find 
yourself employment, that, will keep your mind 
active, and depend upon It, this will force out un¬ 
welcome thoughts. 
An unsuspecting, unquestioning, unhesitating 
spirit, God delights to honor. Ho does not, de¬ 
light In a credulous, weak, unstable mind. lie 
gives us full evidence when He calls and leads; 
but He expects to find In us w hat lie Himself be¬ 
stows, an open ear, and a disposed heart - Cecil. 
As t he rays are from the sun and yet arc not the 
sun, oven so our love and pity, though they aro 
not Ood, but merely a poor, weak Imago and re¬ 
flection of Illrn, yet from Htra alone they come. 
If there Js mercy In our heart*. It comes from the 
fountain of mercy; tr there Is the light of lores In 
us, It, Is a ray from the full sun of love .—Charles 
Kiur/shy, 
And if you ask what Is the temper which is most 
fitted to be victorious over sin on earth, I answer 
that In It the waip Of a sunny gentleness muBtbe 
woven across the woof of a strong character. 
That will make the best, tissue to stand tbe wear 
and tear of the world's trials. Our Lord was 
divinely gentle, but he was also strong with a 
wondrous strength and firmness. 
In this world the man who, riding over gory 
fields, trampling on the dead, moves onward to 
victory, is welcomed by tho multitudes with wild 
acclamations, and they place on his brow the 
laurels of triumph. But tbe man w’ho, in the 
quiet chambers or his soul, without clash of urns 
or smoke of battle, achieves the thorough con¬ 
quest of himself, on bis brow, amid the hallelu¬ 
jahs of heaven. God shall place a royal diadem. 
“I could writedown twenty cases,"says a good 
man, “when I wished God had done otherwise 
than He did, find which l now see, had I bad my 
own will, would have led to extensive mischief. 
The life of a Christian is a life of paradoxes. He 
must lay hold on God. he must follow hard after 
Him, he must, determine not to let Him go. And 
yet you must learn to let God alone. Quietness 
before God is one of tho most difficult,of all Chris¬ 
tian graces; to sit where He pleases, to be what 
He would have us be, and this as long as He 
pleases.” 
How peaceful and joyous emotions In the heart 
blend in harmony the past with the tutnre, mak¬ 
ing the one beautiful, that It has been, the other 
beautiful, because It. Is yet to be, and both, with 
the now', only a part Df God’s great eternity. Oh! 
I do believe, in so living, that all life will be beau¬ 
tiful to us, or that we shall ever be blessed with 
the peaceful consciousness that God Is nigh, that 
His render, loving, perfect presence Is ever over 
and about us and In us, too; for “the second 
man ” or that which Is spiritual “Is tho Lord from 
heaven,” the Bible says, and how beautiful to feel 
this, for It draws us into close fellowship with 
God and Christ and makes us feel realty Hla chil¬ 
dren. 
