430 
NEW-YORKER. 
FEB. 24 
Umirinjj for t|r goung. 
MAMIE’S WISH. 
I wamth a piece of talito 
To make my doll a dess, 
I doesn’t want a bid piece, 
A yard'll do, I (jess. 
1 wish you’d f red my needle, 
And find my iimble, too, 
1 has such heaps of sewing 
I don’t know what to do. 
IIy Hepsy tored her apron 
Tumbliug down the stair; 
And Cas.nir lost his pantaloons, 
And needs aunozzer pair. 
My Maud needs a new bonnet, 
She hasn’t none at all. 
And .Fred needs a new Jacket, 
His ozzer one’s too small. 
I wants to go to Oanma’s, 
You promised me I might; 
I know she’ll want to see me, 
I wants to go to-night. 
1 wauta some newer mittens, 
I wish you’d knit me some, 
For most my lingers freezing 
Those leak so at the furnb. 
I wish I had a cookie, 
I’m ’s hungry as I can be; 
If you liasent. petty large ones. 
You better give me free. 
-♦ » a 
REMINISCENCES Of A LITTLE GIRL. 
41KS. M. J. GAI.FIN. 
l ss,j by the Rural that Uncle Mark lias pub¬ 
lished my letter promising the little ones a story. 
1 suppose I must make a eommeucemeut and see 
what I can do for you In the role of story teller; 
but before proceeding any farther, I will say to the 
little ones, that they can hardly depend on my 
regular appearance every week, as lhavenoop- 
p n'l uulty to write except at night when my three 
chfljivn are in the land of dreams, and I keep no 
help whatever, having always found them more 
trouble than gain. I will try and use language so 
plain that you may all understand, but if I ran, 
call on your papa or mamma to help you out or 
your diniculties. 
llo.v shall 1 commence 1 / once upon a time 
when geese were swans, or how shall It be ? Well, 
I will take you back some forty-five years and tell 
you something In regard to tbla little girl’s lather, 
and after awhile we shall see where she comes In. 
You will, also, journey with me across the Atlan¬ 
tic Ocean to the town of L-, Galway 00, 
Ireland. Within that town lived a famous linen 
weaver, one who wove the splendid Irish linen and 
linen damask, now so much admired, ile was me 
father of thirl eon children and was always so up¬ 
right In bis conduct, that he was dubbed “honest 
Tom silk,” people would believe his lightest word, 
more than gome men s solemn oaths, lie. stood 
six feet two Inches in his stockings, and was a 3 
straight and upright In stature, as he was in char¬ 
acter. The prevailing religion In Ireland then, as 
now, was Roman catholic, and he was faithful 
and strict In all his observances of the church 
rules. It was the custom In those days to select 
one of the children of the family for the priest¬ 
hood, aud the choice la mis family fell upon the 
lather of our little heroine. Little Tommy silk lelt 
his homo to go and live with Father B. and learn 
the way to the “ Kingdom of Heaven,” through 
the priest’s hands. He became his help In all 
things, aUeuded to the vestry, locked up the 
chapel, saw to the priest’s robes aud vestments, 
and Bwung the censor at the burning of Incense 
during mass and vespers. In lact, one of those 
young embryo priests; made a first-class "chore 
boy,” while the deluded parents thought lr. a nue 
thing to wait on Ills Honor, the priest. The rest 
or the family urchins were always jealous of the 
favored one, and frequently twitted trim with be¬ 
ing what we call “ tony ” on account of Ms being 
the priest ’s favorite. Matters glided smoothly by 
with little Tommy Sill; until his liih year, when 
an event occurred which deeply affected his ardent 
young spirits, and lo his dying hour he always be¬ 
lieved In the reality of what then took place. 
One evening while at-the chapel and going through 
some religious penance, he was attracted by hear- 
l ng a noise at the east window, on looking up he 
saw what appeared to be a beautiful child, clothed 
all in white, with long golden curls iloatfug over 
its shoulders, the noise Tommy heard was caused 
by the rattling of a small table that, stood beneath 
the window, there was nothing of the child visible 
below the waist. Tommy always said he never 
before or after in his lUe saw so beautiful a face. 
While gazing at It with wide open eyes, the child 
beckoned to him slowly with Its hand to come to 
him. Tommy started to obey, but, after taking a 
lew steps, terror took possession of him and he 
lied from the chapel. On gatnlug the outside of 
the lnclosure, he asked the old woman whose duty 
it was to dust and see to the church, if she had 
locked up or seen any child around the church, 
lie told the priest of his adventure, hut on the 
strictest Inquiry no tidings could be found of any 
such child, or anyone whatever around the 
church, 
in those European countries it Is customary to 
have the graveyards around the churches; hence 
the term church-yard, as applied to cemeteries 
now. 
After thinking the matter over, his Reverence 
concluded it must have been an angel vision, and 
ordered Tommy to say u certain number of pray¬ 
ers in l he chapel every evening, until fourteen 
days had passed; then, if the angel Came and 
beokoned to him. to go and see what he had to say. 
Tommy said the prayers and only missed once, 
but the angel vision never reappeared. Spirit¬ 
ualism was uuknown at that time, at least In Ire¬ 
land, hut still the priest and Tommy always 
believed that the child was supernatural. Now, I 
don’t believe in ghosts or apparitions of any kind, 
yet I am often inclined to believe with Shake¬ 
speare, that “ there are more things In heaven and 
earth than are dreamed of In our philosophy.” 
From the day of his angelic vision, Tommy was 
an altered boy. lie became devoutly religious, and 
studied In his books with increased ardor. The 
good old priest spared no pains In giving hts little 
charge all the Information and attention he re¬ 
quired. Let me say here that priests were both a 
blessing and a detriment to the Irish. So long as 
the masses of the people were unlettered, It was a 
good thing that they possessed a leader with edu¬ 
cation and Influence, one who could go to a fair 
with a “black snake " and whip the riotous ones 
Into order. 1 tell you, dear children, you ought to 
thank God that you live In the glorious light of the 
nineteenth century; for the world has progressed 
greatly sluee the days of which I speak. On the 
other hand, Catholicism was detrimental, because 
it was opposed then, as 11 is now, to free and general 
education. The poorer classes never dreamed of 
learning how to read or write, all that was loft lor 
his reverence to at tend to. The faet that Tommy’s 
family were pretty well educated for those days 
raised them “way up ” In the social scale. Tom¬ 
my remained with Father B. from childhood until 
he was 1C years old. He then went to live with 
the bishop of the diocese, which was still a step 
higher, aud a preparatory stride toward the time 
when he should cake the sacred vows and become 
a priest, lie found the bishop a stern, unyielding 
man; one who had little charity toward the short¬ 
comings of others, and visited any misdemeanor 
with heavy punishment. Tommy's recollections 
of him lii after years were always bitter, and I 
often think older people are not careful enough 
about the Impressions they leave on the young and 
tender minds entrusted to their charge. Our 
young friend lived with the bishop for over two 
years, when he was sent to live with another 
bishop in the city of Limerick. Tommy was about 
IS years old and had attained his full stature and 
looked some years older than he really was. 
While living with Bishop s. he took upon himself 
the vows of celibacy aud prepared to follow the 
footsteps of all the other priests who Had lived 
and died without wife, children, or any of those 
ties that bind and endear the human family 
to each other. But fate was unrolling a pano¬ 
rama for him of which he had never dreamed. A 
shy, sensitive, loving boy, he thought there was 
no power that could swerve him from the path or 
rectitude, or cause him to forget and abjure both 
his faith and bis vows. But so it was ordained. 
The power of love was to be the magnet that would 
make him forsake all else and cleave unto the Idol 
of Uls heart. One evening, while assisting In serv¬ 
ing mass, he was attracted by a beautiful face 
which seemed the embodiment or everything that 
he thought lovely. The services lost- their charm 
and became a confused mass In his youthful brain. 
The attraction seemed mutual, lor the woman 
seemed to admire him as much as his glances 
showed admiration for her. And light here in the 
holy church Is where the evff one, according to 
Catholl-! doctrine, commenced Ills temptation; 
though for my part I cannot see what wrong i here 
was In two people loving each other as they did 
arterwards. 
For weeks they remained silently admiring each 
other; the woman not daring to think of a man 
consecrated to the priesthood, and the man held 
back by his vows, his honor and all things else 
combined. They say that “ love laughs at difficul¬ 
ties,” and it was so in this case. Like Mother Eve 
tempting Adam, the woman broke the Ice of re¬ 
serve by talking to him one evening when they 
were coming from vespers. I have often heard 
Uncle Tommy tell how he felt when she first 
spoke to him. He said a chill passed over his 
frame and then every fibre tingled as with an 
electric 8hock. Neither of these young ones 
dreamed at that first acquaintance that they 
would brav e everything to become one. Nor of 
the care, persecution and sorrow’ lying ahead In 
their pathway. What a blessing, dear children, 
tti at we csnnoc see Into the fu l ure. Never let. any 
ol you wish to raise the veil, but believe that “ as 
the day so shah thy strength be,” and wait In pa¬ 
tience for me unioldiug leaves or the future to 
produce what may be In store, for you, be It. either 
hope and Joy. or care and sorrow; remembering 
always that our Heavenly Father “ doeth all 
things well. ' But now I shall close for this time. 
I will follow Tommy and his fortunes in my next, 
and later tell you how my little heroine appeared 
on the scene, and what her ure was In after years. 
Hoping my tale will interest you, I now say good¬ 
night, to one and ali. 
May holy angola guard thy slumbers, 
Linger round thy lowly bed, 
May the morning break with sunshine, 
O’er each little sleeping' head. 
Marshall Co.. Kansas. 
KOTHCHILD’S MAXIMS. 
An, of the cousins must have heard the name 
Rothschild mentioned, the name of one of the 
wealthiest families in the world; and some of 
them are perhaps also familiar with the story or 
how they acquired their colossal fortune. The 
lather of the family, Mayer Anselm Rothschild, 
was horn In Frankfort, in Germany, In ring and 
died In the same city lu September isi- 2 . He be¬ 
longed to a poor Jewish lamlly. While a young 
man he was employed as a clerk In Hanover, but 
later In life he established himself in his native 
town, where he opened a hanking house, ills In¬ 
tegrity and ability brought him into business con¬ 
nection with several of the German governments, 
and particularly with that of llesse-cassel. In 
ISOff the French Invaded the latter State and put 
the ruling prince, William I, to flight. But 
before leaving biscouutry, he deposited $6,000,000 
for safe keeping with the honest banker Roth¬ 
schild, who was permitted to use the money with¬ 
out Interest. By judicious Investments of this 
sum, Rothschild laid the foundation for the present 
wealth of the family, and although the whole 
amount was later paid back to the heirs of Wil¬ 
liam, the hanker had reaped a hundred fold from 
its use. Mayer Anselm's live sons, Anselm, Solo¬ 
mon, Nathan, Charles and James, respectively 
became chiefs of banking bouses at Frankfort, 
Vienna, London, Naples and Paris, and all were 
made barons by the emperor Francis. The eldest 
son of Charles, Lionel Nathan, In due time became 
the head of the Loudon Rothschild firm, and It Is 
he, who, according to George Francis Train, had 
tho following maxims framed and hung on the 
walls of the bank. 
Attend carefully to details of your business! 
Be prompt In all things! 
Consider well, then decide positively! 
Bare to do l ight I Fear to do wrong! 
Endure trials patiently! 
Fight life’s battle bravely, manfully! 
Go not In the society or the vicious! 
Hold Integrity sacred! 
Injure not another’s reputation or business ! 
Join hands only with the virtuous! 
Keep your mind from evil thoughts! 
Lie not for auy consideration r 
Make lew acquaintances I 
Never try to appear what you are not! 
Observe good manners i 
Pay your debts promptly I 
Question not the veracity of a friend 1 
Respect the counsel of your parents! 
Sacrifice money rather than principle i 
Touch not, taste not, handle not, intoxicating 
drinks! 
Use your leisure time for Improvement! 
Venture not. upon the threshold of wrong! 
Watch carefully over your passions! 
’Xtend to every one a kindly salutation! 
Yield not to discouragements! 
Zealously labor for the right 1 
A success Is certain! 
LETTERS FROM THE COUSINS. 
Dear Uncle Mark:—A s I am a member of the 
club 1 thought I would write and tell you of my 
summer’s work. My D. D. coru might have proved 
us great (in name but not lu alze) a curiosity as 
papa's •• Blount corn ” had It lived; but something 
always doeshappen on a farm. The pigs with their 
plgglest appetites broke In ana and left it a total 
ruin one day, and i did not save enough to plant 
uext year. I had a nice patch of water-melons 
aud a pretty flower garden with Morning Glories. 
Pinks,Pansies. Portulaca, Cockscomb aud Zinnias 
in It. Our farm consists of or. acres; It is three 
miles from Madison, and is about 30 rods from a. 
school-house. Papa has a good many grapes on a 
sunny slope lacing the south. But these long 
evenings we cannot spend in the garden, so let us 
all try and make our corner a bright and pleasant 
one. Come cousins every one ol you. Don’t get 
to nodding, we want to hear from you all. I will 
tell you how to make a little face that looks real 
funny when done. Put the end of your thumb be¬ 
tween the two middle fingers, In a line with the 
knuckles ana then take two black shoe buttons, 
and place one on each side of the knuckles above. 
'Then take a handkerchief and cover the whole 
hand except said features, ir done nicely and 
brought into a room full of company, it will make 
lots of luu. i have one other amusement 1 would 
like to speak of, and then I must close. First, 
boil some red cabbage iu water ^mtil the liquid 
becomes real blue; then put ten drops of dissolved 
soda in one wine glass, an equal amount of dis¬ 
solved alum In another, aud lu (hops of vinegar in 
a third. Fill the glasses with the cabbage water; 
If strong enough the mixtures will Like beautiful 
colors, green, red and purple. Weil, 1 guess Uncle 
Mark will get tired If I write any more. 
Madison, VVls, “Cousin Nonsense,” 
Dear Uncle Mark: —We once again write to 
you. We can't tell you much about our flowers, 
for we have but very few now. We have three 
Geraniums, a Rose, and the other two we don't 
know the names of ; we only got the slips last full 
and they are small yd. One plant fi ts been in 
constant bloom since last October. We have three 
Salvias, one Star plant,, and two kinds of ivy. This 
Is tho first winter we have ever tried to keep 
flowers In the silting room, for all our plants stay 
lu the ground In winter. We have always a good 
many animals. Mamma says we may have our 
flower beds this summer each by herself, chon wo 
shall see what success we will luve. Perhaps we 
then may have something Interesting to write 
about. We arc only three little girls and can't 
write as well as some of the other cousins, ui 
Uncle, we came near forgetting to tell you about 
our grape seed. H was plained as you directed, 
but none or It has sprouted yet. No cold weather 
this winter, as the paper Is full we will close. 
Yours, iEc., 
Lizzie, Barbara and Eliza Pound. 
Spencer co., Tenn. 
Deak Uncle Mark :—1 am u little boy, li years 
old. My father takes the Rural, and we all like 
It very much. We have a farm of 40 acres. We 
keep three horses and 11 head of cattle, and live 
pigs. We have sowed seven acres of wheat and 
three-quarters or an acre of rye. My rather thinks 
ho will plant 10 acres of potatoes next summer. 
We have had a very moderate winter so far. l go 
to school every day. My teacher gave me two 
presents for being the best boy lu tbe school. 
Please print this letter, for i am a little boy and 
I want to see It In the next paper. 
Your little friend, Louis A. Tuthill. 
Orient, L. I. 
Dear Uncle Mark:—I would very much like to 
join the Horticultural Club. I would have written 
before but I was afraid you heard rrom too many. 
I have one sister and three brothers. Their names 
are Mary, Fred., Walter and Harry. This summer 
I had a very nice garden. Mary’s and mine are 
where a stable used to stand, so the ground Is very 
rich. I had Geraniums, Feverfews, Sweet Wil¬ 
liams, Balsams, Pansies, Indian Pinks. Mignonette, 
and Marigolds. I hope this letter Is not too long 
to print. From your niece, 
Maggie C. Doolittle, 
p. S. i will be ii the 1th of next March. 
Knox CO., Ohio. 
Dear Uncle Mark;—A s I have not seen any 
letters from this place, I thought I would write. I 
am ll years of age. I love poultry; I have a duck 
that lays black eggs. I have a dog also that weighs 
TS pounds. J have also a little dog which we call 
Tilden. He Is not, however, related to Sam. J. 
Tilden. Besides these I have about, thirty fish lu 
a little cistern. I must not make my letter too 
lon &- Warns J. shaner. 
Dear Uncle Mark:— Will you please let me 
join the Horticultural c lub ? My little brothers— 
Devllle and Ronald—send their names, too. We 
all love flowers very much, and have a pretty 
garden every summer, but Devllle says he likes to 
cultivate vegetables best. We go to school and 
have not lost a day this winter, it has been very 
warm here since New Years. Rena Violet. 
Bucklin, Linn Co., Mo. 
THE PRESENCE OF THE SAVIOUR. 
The presence of the Saviour, 
How it brightens all my way, 
How it helps me, how it strengthens, 
How it cheers ma clay by day. 
Tho presence ot' the Saviour, 
How it makes tho darkness light. 
How it brings a ray of sunshine 
Into sorrow’s dreary night. 
The presence of the Saviour, 
How it fills the longing heart. 
With a sense of deep, sweet gladness 
Nothing earth-born can impart. 
The presence of the Saviour, 
How it chases every fear, 
HowIt soothes the restless spirit 
When faith fuels that He is near. 
The presence of tho Saviour, 
And the knowledge of his love. 
How it seems a sweet, bright foretaste 
Of eternal Joys above. 
The presence ol’ tho Saviour, 
Surely it is heaven begun, 
For ’twill be the brightest glory 
Of the life beyond the sun.—j. s. 
GOOD OUT OF EVIL. 
Gon Is kinder to had men than they are to them¬ 
selves. Often He surprises their evil intention 
with unexpected good, and shames them Into 
repent ance with a blessing. 
An Arabian vine-dresscr in a time of war was 
dratted Into the Turkish army, and forced away 
rrom Ills peaceful home in the mountains to a life 
of hurdshlp and violence. Rough ex-perleuce and 
example soon made him like all the rest of the 
Mussulman soldiers, ferocious, reckless, and In¬ 
sensible to any higher duty than fighting and 
plundering. 
While the troops with which he served were 
out on one of their destroying expeditions, they 
entered a district Inhabited by people whom ihe 
Turks considered their political enemies, and au 
tacked a Christian village. The terrified families 
lied, and the Invaders ransacked their houses 
seizing everything they could carry away. The 
Arabian soldier was lond ol books, and, took care 
to secure several with bis other booty, paying no 
particular attention to what they contained. 
It happened that one of the books was a Bible. 
He found little opportunity to road till the ex¬ 
citements ot camp and field were over; but when 
he was allowed to go home he took the stolen 
Bible with him, and as soon as ho had exam¬ 
ined it he l'elt Interested enough to read it t hrough. 
No doubt the rightful owners, while they 
mourned their other losses, prayed that the Good 
Book might reform the thief who took it away. 
Certainly such a wish could not have been more 
happily realized. 
The man continued to read with Increased atten¬ 
tion, aud as he went on he said, “ 'Uhls book Is bet- 
tliun the Koran.” From wondering at the book he 
began lo w'euder at himself. Ijls conscience was 
awakened, for he learned all about his own heart, 
'i he Bible showed htm his guilt and led him to 
penitence ; and then it taught him to pray, and to 
whom to pi ay. U e bo wed to tho Redeemer revealed 
In the New Testament, aud acknowledged Him as 
the Friend whom he needed. 
His family were enraged when they knew that 
he had “ turned Christian,” and their reproaches 
and persecutions made his borne a house of tor¬ 
ment. His neighbors hated him for an “apostate,” 
aud lnsultedand denounced him, aud even mobbed 
him In the streets, and destroyed hts vineyard and 
fruit- trees. The poor mau was a social outcast; 
but It was for the sake of a religion whoso bless¬ 
ings more t han paid him for all earthly spoiling 
aud shame. Nothing could shake his heroic faith. 
When he was In ills extremity the kinduess of an 
English Protestant minister gave him employ¬ 
ment, and a refuge which no Mussulman dared to 
violate, 
At the writing of this sketch—three years from 
the time when he began to read that stolen Bible 
—the persecuted Arabian vine-dresser Is a Chris¬ 
tian preacher in a Syrian village on Mt. Lebanon, 
and pastor of a church which numbers among 
its members many of those who were once his bit¬ 
terest. revilers .—The Watchman. 
