'! 
: 
206 
THE RHBAL NEW-YOBSiEB 
SV5ABCH 34 
dismissed him. Then In a few words she explained 
bow matters stood, and wnat an ordeal awaited 
her; she had no hope, In her present nervous con¬ 
dition, of going through with It successfully, but 
she was resolved (such was her courage) to do her 
best. "1 can neither play, nor Ring, nor sketch 
In oils," said she, pointing despairingly in a piano 
and portfolio that stood In the room. 
“ Hut 1 can," cried my wife, with a sudden flash 
of Intelligence; “these people have never seen 
either of us; let me take your place, and they 
wlU go away none the wiser.” 
The next momenlthe three Cockneys were an¬ 
nounced, and Clara gave them a gracious wel¬ 
come, at the same time Introducing Susan os a 
French friend of hers. It was i he boldest stroke 
that ever was played—even by a woman for her 
husband and child; hut It succeeded. Susan 
spoke French, which they did not understand. 
Clara spoke broken English, interspersed with 
snatches or French, which they understood a little 
(because she was not much of a French scholar), 
and therefore they appreciated it all the more. 
Apologizing for her husband’s absence, she volun¬ 
teered to do her best to entertain them with a lit¬ 
tle music. Her hands were white enough even for 
a Montmorenel, and Susan keptmi her gloves (she 
always did so, because It was the custom of tbc 
Monunon-nela—"something hereditary,” as my 
uncle used to explain, " like the Banshee”). My 
wife exhibited the contents of the portfolio, and 
even drew a little sketch. The whole trio were 
In raptures. Sponge afterwards observed to ray 
uncle that there was •• nothing Ukc blood,” and 
that he would have known his lady “to have 
been a Montmorenel though he had met her on 
the top of an omnibus.” Even Kasper, London- 
born as ho was, had no suspicion about the genu¬ 
ineness of the Montmorenel, and presently retired 
to his birthplace with his friends, thoroughly sat- 
lsfled and befooled. 
In the meantime my uncle had shut himself up 
in his study (as It was called) with a bottle of 
champagne, too terrified to put In an appearance. 
As soon as the can) age-wheels or Ids visitors had 
rolled away he rushed Into the drawing-room. 
“ It Is all over, I suppose ?" said he, with an air 
of ilcsparatlon; "of course they found you out, 
my poor Susan5" Then, allot a sudden, ho saw 
my wire, and stammered, "I mean Bella.” 
"Nothing has been found out,” said Susan, 
“ thanks to this dear lady, who knows all." Then 
she described how Clara had personated her, and 
what a complete success It had been. .My uncle 
almost went down on hls kuoes to thank my wife. 
"1 don’t know who you are," said he, "hut 1 
shall never be happy till I have shown my grati¬ 
tude to you.” 
“Nathaniel,” said my aunt-by-marrlage, grave¬ 
ly, " this lady Is tho daughter of my benefactor 
Mr. woodward, to whom 1 owed everything on 
earth till I met you.” 
" Then I am most uncommonly glad to see you 
under this roof,” said my uncle with ent husiasm, 
perhaps a little assisted by the champagne. " She 
doesn’t look very prosperous, Susan,” he added In 
a whisper, " built there la anything that money 
can do, It shall he done.” 
“.she Is poor, Sir, and much In need of friends," 
said Susan. 
“ Then you have found them here, ma’am,” said 
my uncle, (who, It must be understood, had fin¬ 
ished the whole bottle). "You are a llxlure at 
The Tamarisks for life, if It. so pleases you.” 
"Youare most kind, sir,” said Clara, softly; 
" but I have a husband and one little cdlld.” 
"Never mind, ma'am, he’ll grow. There’s 
plenty of room for him to do It at The Tamarisks. 
Where arc they? What! In the garden? Call 
them In 1" 
•; Then Clara went to the window and called out 
for mo and Chickabiddy; and this was the most 
terrible moment of It all. 
When my uncle saw me he cried, “ You young 
scoundrel 1 how dare you sV.<\w your face In this 
house ?” 
"Because you have just, sent for him,” lut-er- 
posed my wife. •* Charles Is my husband, and 
that is our Chickabiddy. You have promised to 
mako your house our home, and l know you are 
a man of your word." 
It. was a stroke of genius to put tho thing upon 
that ground. 
" This Is all your fault, Susan,” cried my uncle, 
petulantly. " You promised never to Interfere on 
behalf of this— this young couple.” 
"Nor did t, my dear husband. You have done 
It all yourself." 
“ it, was the champagne,” exclaimed my uncle, 
naively. " What a fool I have been, knowing, as 
I well do, what champagne Is made of.” Then he 
turned to me and said, “ Well, sir, If you have re¬ 
gained your place here, It Is all through your 
aunt’s good graces.” 
" We shall cover forget her kindness, sir,” said 
we, both together. 
And 1 trust we never shall. She Is only an 
autWby-marrlage, but she has behaved like a 
sister to my wife and like a mother to our child. 
If she had really been a .Mont-morenot, she could 
nol have-shown more nobility of nature, and it Is 
even just possible that she might have shown a 
little less. 
. - - ■ •»»+-■ 
ALLIE AND HENRY. 
BY FRANK LARCH. 
had married the belle of-while the mutterlngs 
of our war of the Rebellion were but feebly beard 
through the land. Allie and Henry, aged at the 
time they are first Introduced to the reader, re¬ 
spectively six and eight, years, were the fruits of 
the happy marriage. While they were yet babies, 
the great civil war broke out,, and among tho nrst 
to volunteer In behalf of hls suffering country was 
Charles Haines. By one of those Inscrutable 
decrees of Providence, many men whose lives 
were or little value to themselves or any one else, 
came out of the battle of Bull Hun unharmed, 
while Charles, tho loving husbaud, kind lather 
and honored citizen, was killed at the nrst fire. 
Though wc must not murmur at the seeming in¬ 
justice of such cases, to fall of understanding 
them Is the privilege of a Unite mind. Mrs. 
Haines, upon receiving the news of her husband s 
death, was overwhelmed with grief. Her ambi¬ 
tion In life seemed gone. She did not mourn, as 
some do, with violent fits of weeping and terrible 
outbursts of sorrow; but there seemed to be a 
constant Inward lire w hich was burning her Ufo 
away. Her condition went from bad to worse, 
unt il we llnd her, Just at the close of a March day, 
gradually sinking to an end of her sufferings. 
“ Mother, bring Allik and Harry to me and let 
me kiss them once more." 
overcome with grief, Mrs. Norris, who was ad¬ 
dressed, leaned over the bed with streaming eyes 
and said: “Oh! Jennie, don’t—don't, talk that 
way. You are getting better. Oh! Don’t say 
• only once more,’ ” 
"Ah! No, mother, 1 cannot, say anything else 
for I feel that Ufe Is ebbing from me and I can 
only regret that you will bo left, to care for my 
two poor little orphans. But I know you will be 
equal to It and then you know we have this nice 
farm.” 
Alas! poor woman. Little did she know thatthe 
farm was mortgaged to nearly its full value and 
that foreclosure had only been averted by tho 
kindheartedness of tho creditor, who refused to 
bring greater trouble upon t his unfortunate house¬ 
hold. Ignorant, however, of this fact, one trouble 
was saved to the mind of tho dying woman. 
The children were brought Into the room, little 
realizing the bereavement In store for them. 
Mrs. Ha inks, with what 111tie strength remained 
to her, clasped them to her bosom, saying: " Now 
Allib and IIarrv, mamma Is going away from 
you never to return here; but some day you will 
come up to heaven where I am g*lng and then we 
shall never be parted again. Be good children 
and do everything that Grandma tells you to do, 
for slie will take good care of you as long as she 
lives and then — ” Here the dying woman’s 
courage for the, first time broke dowu. Mrs. 
Nonius is nol young and cannot live many years 
and then what Is to become of the poor orphans? 
such were the thoughts which troubled Mi'S. 
Haines, as the weeping children were led from 
the room. The exertion brought on a tit of cough¬ 
ing which changed the current of thought. 
It Is unnecessary to dwell further upon those 
sorrowful moments during the long night which 
followed. Towards morning Mrs. Haines sank 
Into a peaceful slumber which deepened till life 
was extinct. Just, where sleep ended and death 
began, even Mrs. Noams, who constantly watched 
her, w as unable GO tell. Thus ended a life or 
more than ordinary measure of both happiness 
and misery. 
“Mother, bring Allik and Henry tome and 
let me kiss them once more.” 
How simple were these few w ords feebly utter¬ 
ed by Mrs. Haines, whose appearance Indicated 
that she would experience but little more suffer¬ 
ing before being called to her last home. 
Charles Haines, an enterprising young farmer, 
A few days after the funeral, as Mrs. Norris 
was sitting in the front porch watching the 
children playing In t he warm spring sunshine she 
perceived approaching the house, a large, hale 
gentleman or about forty whom she recognized at 
once as Mr. Fishkk, the owner of the mortgage 
on the farm. 
He had a Arm tread, a cheerful, pleasant face 
and looked to he Just what he was, every Inch a 
good man. 
“Good arternoon, Mrs. Norris, I hopeyoubave 
somewhat recovered from the severe lax upon 
your syst em during the last few months.” 
" Thank you, si r, I am feeling quite well to-day.” 
“ ! have come to-day to see If 1 cannot do both a 
good aud a had deed. My bad deed Is to deprive 
you and the Utile ones of this happy and pleasant 
norae and my good deed Is to provide them, If pos¬ 
sible, with another one which I hope will he quite 
as pleasant to you all. You know this place is 
mortgaged for pretty nearly Its full value and 
that It, w ould be next to impossible for you« 
your age to successfully and profitably manage 
the farm. I have therefore thought of Lb Is plan. 
1 will take the farm, and in exchange for its value 
over and above Lhe mortgage, 1 will give you the 
pretty little cottage and acre of ground Just on 
the outskirts of the village. Comfortably en¬ 
sconced there, you can probably take better care 
of these two little ones both physically and men¬ 
tally.” 
" rm sure Mr. Fisher, that It must he an unfair 
bargain on your side; but 1 cannot eonscientious- 
ly refuse It.” 
“Never mind that. I.et me take care of myself 
and you do tbe best you can with your two little 
orphans. So I may consider the matter settled ?” 
" Yes, sir, and thank you heartily for your kind¬ 
ness.” 
So it was settled. In a few days Mrs. Norris, 
moved with Allie and IIknry into the pretty 
llttlo cottage. It had been unoccupied for some¬ 
time and was somewhat neglected; hut the 
thrifty housewife soon put it lu thorough order. 
Then the question arose, “ what shall I do to sup¬ 
port these helpless children as well as ray self ? l 
have a little money; but not enough to live upon 
and something else must he done.” Being a 
woman of decided character, It did not take her 
long to make up her mind. 
She immediately proceeded to the village and 
purchased some nice poultry and some vegetable 
seeds. The assortment of cither was not exten¬ 
sive, but chosen with a view to profit. To do the 
work necessary to make these avallable.lt was 
necessary to get the assist ance of some roan who 
understood what was to be done with them. She 
called at several places on her way home to se¬ 
cure, If possible, such assistance. It was In the 
spring of the year, and none was to be had. Here 
was another trouble, and ono which she had not 
anticipated. After vlsillug several places 1 n vain, 
she finally returned home, almost discouraged. 
She had the seeds and only needed the labor of a 
man to prepare the ground and plant them, after 
which she could care for them herself. But no 
man could be obtained; they were all engaged at 
this season. Whit* sluing on the porcli of her 
cottage, conning over lhe ways and means of ob¬ 
viating her difficulties, she w as approached by a 
rough but kindly-faced man, whose face was en¬ 
tirely strange to her. 
" Are you Mrs. Norris, ma’am?” said he. 
" Yes, that Is my name," 
"Well, Mr. Fisher sent mo here to make an 
explain about hls ducks, ma’am.” 
" What of hls ducks?” 
"Well, ma’am, you see—that Is, Lhe ducks, 
ma’am—that Is, he said, ma’ain—well, the ducks 
won’t stay home—they he constantly going to 
your little pond, ma'am, and he wanted me to a> 
you, ma’am, If you would take, them ducks and 
keep them, ma’am, and call It a good bargain for 
him to get red of ’em, ma’am. You see, the ducks 
won’t stay home and he haln’t got no pond and 
he can’t take care o’ 'em, and he wants to gl’e ’em 
to you." 
“ Certainly; If they will stay with me I will care 
for them," ahe replied. 
"Then Mr. Fisher said, ma’am. If you had any 
little flxln’ up o’ the grounds to do, ma’am, I was 
to do It for you; so I come to do It,.” 
Here was the very man she had been looking 
for, and he seemed to have been sent by Provi¬ 
dence for this special emergency. 
" How much do you ask a day for your work, 
my man?" 
" i don’t ask nothin’, ina’um. Mr. Fisher —he’s 
my boss—he said 1 was to do anything you wanted 
done, and I’m come to flnd out what 11 Is.” 
" I want my garden dug and my seeds planted, 
that Is all. It you will come to-morrow, 1 will 
show you all about It,.” 
The following day Mr. Fisher’s man came and 
started on hls labor. I n a few days the plot was 
laid out and the planting finished. While the 
work was going on the children were delighted 
with the bustle and change, and were in a suite 
of continuous happiness. So lightly do the bur¬ 
dens of life rest upon childish shoulders, and so 
little do children realize the sorrows and cares of 
life, that with all the recent and prospective 
troubles, the little excitement of !the work going 
on around the place afforded them perfect happi¬ 
ness. Different, however, was It with Mrs. Nor¬ 
ris, She realized to the fullest extent the diffi¬ 
culties of the position In which she was placed. 
With two small ehlldrcti to provide for, aud little 
with which to make the provision, she saw noth¬ 
ing but. trouble ahead. But God helps those who 
help themselves. "8teadlly forward” was her 
motto. God had- given her these little ones to 
provide lor, and with Ills help she Intended to 
provide for them. 
By strict economy the money would last her 
through the spring and early summer, and then 
she could sell her vegetables, and get something 
with which to carry her through the winter. 
With this calculation she worked with might 
and main. The chickens she had purchased 
would yield her some eggs, which she could sell, 
and she mado up her mind to Increase them, so 
i hat she would have chickens and ducks for sale 
In the fall—aud such chickens aud ducks! The 
delight of Mrs. Norris and the two children was 
the feeding of those beautiful ducks. 
One morning, as they were feeding them along¬ 
side of the .cottngp, (by the pond, a passing ped- 
dlar stopped to sell hls wares. Observing their 
occupation, he asked Mrs. Norris what she would 
take for the eggs. She did not know what to say, 
for be seemed to be anxious to get them. Finally 
he asked her how many she had. She replied, 
“Five dozen.” 
"I will give you five dollars for them, If they 
are the eggs of those ducks.” 
“ They are, and I think that is a very good price, 
and will take It.” 
The bargain was struck, and Lhe eggs and the 
money transferred. Then the peddler observed, 
“Madam, you have there some valuable birds; 
tbey are Kouen ducks, and will bring a large 
price In the market." 
This was a revelation indeed. From that time 
the ducks wore watched with double care. The 
eggs were batched under the most motherly hens, 
and line flocks were ready tor the next fall. In 
the meant line the season for vegetables arrived, 
and, with the aid of Mr. Eishf.h's man, who never 
failed to be on hand when Wanted, the produce 
was prepared for marxet and sold. 
When the Fall arrived, her liouen ducks brought 
her five dollars per trio, and thus provided her 
with a nice little sum with which to pass through 
the winter. Then, too. she leased the privilege of 
cutting Ice on her pond during the winter, so that 
she was not entirely without resources at that 
time. Thus did her forethought, her care, and 
her thrift secure to herself and the two orphans, 
not only a nice living, hut money enough to give 
them a fair education. And her circumstances 
grew brighter from year to year. 
Perhaps all this would be much more Interest¬ 
ing were It fiction and could we wander into a 
thousand and one details which facts would not 
warrant; but when It is considered that the fore¬ 
going Is an episode of aciqal life, with only a 
variation ot names and places, It seems to estab¬ 
lish the fact that Goo helps those who help them¬ 
selves. 
At a future day It may he the good fortune or 
these columns to record the further life of Allie 
and Henry. 
(?v 
NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. 
“Now 7 I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep”— 
So the baby learned her prayer, 
Kneeling by her mother’s chair j 
In her little bed-gown white. 
Said it over ovory night; 
Learning in her childish way, 
How a little child oonM pray. 
“Now r I lay me down to sleep"— 
Said the child, a maiden grown; 
Thinking, with a backward glance. 
How the happy past had flown 
Since, beside her mother’s knee. 
With a child’s humility. 
She had said her simple prayer, 
Feeling safe in Jesus’ care. 
“ I pray tho Lord ray soul to keep”— 
Yet the words were careleBB said; 
Lightly' had tho hand of Time 
Laid his lingers on her head; 
On Life's golden afternoon 
Gay tho bells and sweet the tune; 
And upon her wedding day 
She had half forgot to pray 7 . 
“ Now I lay me down to sleep”— 
How tho words come hack again, 
With a tueasuro that was born 
Half of pleasure, half of pain; 
Kneeling by a cradle bed. 
With a hand upon each head, 
Rose the old prayer, soft and slow. 
As a brooklet in its flow. 
All alone, with bonded head. 
She ha* nothing but her dead; 
Yet with heart so full uf care, 
Still her lips repeat the prayer; 
Itest at last 1 oh, st<a-m-tosBed soul! 
Safe beyond the breakers roll; 
He, the Lord, her nvul shall keep. 
Now she lays her down to sleep. 
[Af. It. H., in Church Journal and Messenger. 
-♦♦♦- 
MISSIONARY PREACHING. 
When we consider that sin b - slam our Lord 
Jesus Christ, O how should tb thought provoke 
our hearts to be revenged on sin, for imcng 
murdered the Lord ot glory, and done more 
mischief than all the dev« is In hell could V - 
done. 
Dr. John ITall, In hls lectures before the Theo¬ 
logical Department of Yale College, said: 
“ The church of Christ is to he aggressive In the 
world. Her activities find scope in missionary 
labor at home and abroad. But a Christian com¬ 
munity will not, perform Its functions In this re¬ 
spect without instruction, motive, and direction. 
It Is no mean part- of a church’s life to learn and 
do God’s will In this department; and the minister 
can usually find few topics more fitted to Instruct 
and animate hls charge than mission ary work 
furnishes. Let- the day on which foreign missions 
receive the people's girls be marked by a vigorous 
presentation of the condition of heathenism, Its 
unconscious fulfilment of prophecy. Its Illustra¬ 
tions of Scripture truth, lt-s utter helplessness 
without the gospel, and Us exhibition of what we 
would be lu t he like condition. When home mis¬ 
sions have their day, let the moral aDd spiritual 
condition of the country pass under review. Let 
there be turned on It the light ol God’s word; let 
Its dark places he exhibited; let our national 
weaknesses aud sins be remorselessly laid hare; 
let the actual coudltlon ot the churches and mas¬ 
ses bo faltufully portrayed; let the obligations of 
the Christian people be enforced; let the truths 
which formed the foundation of the Christian 
church, aud again of this Republic, be empha¬ 
sized ; and a genuine public spirit will be fostered, 
sucb as makes men Christian patriots. Tbe nov¬ 
elty and the flrst flush of missionary excitement 
have passed; tbe mere romance of the enterprise 
isgone. The work Is now to rely ror prosecution 
on calm, intelligent, reflecting Christian principle. 
Knowledge has to supply motive. A race has 
groWn up that knows not Bralnerd and .1 nelson 
and Carey and Boardman a nd Goodell and Moffatt. 
The abundance of general literature crowds out 
the missionary. People will not long give sympa¬ 
thy, prayer, and money to that of which they have 
no knowledge; and In our time a church that has 
not missionary zeal Is like a body paralyzed on one 
side. It Is Incapable of taking exercise, and the 
debility Increases.” 
-♦-•-t- 
TnE memory Is a store-house, to be filled for 
future use. We HU It In youth and draw on It In 
advanced age. WlU you fill with the worthless 
and perishable, and draw out sorrow and pain? 
or with what Is good and substantial, and that 
which shall be a sourc-c of satisfactory enjoyment ? 
Fill up with t he best-, while you may. God’s word 
stored in the young mind grows more and more 
valuable as tune advances. 
--- 
Flatter not- thyself Jo thy faith to God, if thou 
wantest charity for thy neighbor; and think not 
thou hast charity for thy neighbor, It thou want- 
est faith to God; when they are not both to¬ 
gether, they are both wanting; they are both 
dead, if once divided. 
-- 
One good thought or idea set afloat, may pro¬ 
duce In other minds a rich harvest. All you know 
came through communications from others. 
Don't keep all the good things you know to your¬ 
self. Sow good seed and plenty of It. but he sure 
it Is good. 
