368 
JUNE 6 
$ iifrari PiMang. 
THE SIMPLE CHURCH. 
BY I. I>. VALENTINE. 
I’ve been to Quaker meeting, wife, and I shall go 
again; 
It was so quiet and bo neat, bo simple and bo plain: 
The angeU seemed to gather there, from off the other 
shore, 
And fold their wtngB in quietness, as tho’ they'd been 
before. 
There was no blgh-priced organ there, no costly sing¬ 
ing choir, 
To help you raise your hearts to God, and holinoss 
inspire, 
But sitting still in silence, we seemed to feel and 
know 
The still, small voice that entered in and told the way 
to go. 
The walls were free from painting and costly work 
of art, 
That in our modern churches seems to play bo large a 
part; 
For it seernB that each, endeavor to pleaee the eye of 
man. 
And lose all thoughts of plainness in every church 
they plan. 
The windows had no colored glass, to shed a gloom 
around. 
But God’6 pale sunlight entered unrestrained and all 
unbound. 
And centered in a little spot, so bright, it seemed to 
me 
A glimpse of brightness, somewhat like our future 
home will he. 
There was no learned minister, who read as from a. 
hook. 
And showed that he had practiced his every word and 
look, 
But a/sermon full of wisdom was preached by an old 
Friend. 
That took right hold of all our thoughts, and held 
them to the end. 
He ined no long, high sounding words, and had a sing 
song way 
In drawiDg out bis sentences, in what he had to say; 
But told the truth, and told it bo that every one who 
heard. 
Seemed to feel the prompting spirit, more than ,1ust 
the spoken word. 
There was no pulpit decked with flowers of beauty 
rich and rare. 
And made from foreign costly woods, almost beyond 
compare. 
But plain and simple as the truths that wehad that day 
heard. 
The common painted gallery did much to help the 
word. 
There was no bustle, noise, or stir, as each one took 
his seat, 
But silence Bettled oyer all, so solemn, but so Bwcet, 
As each one fn his solemn way implored for strength 
to know 
The right from wrong in everything, and asked the 
way to go. 
It seemed when I was there, wife, so reaceful and so 
still. 
That I was in God’s presence, and there to do his will. 
TMs simple, peaceful quiet did more to move my 
heart 
Than any worship yet had done, with all its &how and 
art. 
I’m going there again, wife, and you will like it too: 
I know what it has done for me—'twill do the same for 
you; 
And you, when once you've entered through the plain 
but open door. 
Will wonder why you've never tried the simple church 
before. 
JOHN ASCOTT’S DAUGHTER. 
BY CHARLES RICHARDS DODGE, 
Author of “ Louise and I.” 
(Continued from page 349 ) 
CHAPTER XI. 
A MILL-STONE, 
“ George, to-morrow is the anniversary of our 
•wedding, do you know It ?” 
“That reminds me. May," he answered thrust¬ 
ing his hands Into divers pockets,” “I’ve a note 
somewhere about me lrom Charles and Sarah. 
Never mind, I can’t And It now, but we are ex¬ 
pected to dine there to-morrow, whether In honor 
of the occasion or not, 1 can’t say. Of course we 
will go?” 
“How pleasant," May answered “I think of 
nothing now to prevent.” 
“ 1 had not forgotten the anniversary, Puss, 
and only wish l were able to give you a handsome 
souvenir—sliver service or something.” 
“ oh, George, we must not, think of such t hings.” 
“ I'm going to try to pay oil a part of the mort¬ 
gage next year, and when we get out of debt- 
“ 1 am frightened every time I think of the two 
thousand you owe, l fear you have made a mis¬ 
take In not paying up Mr. stone llrst, and putting 
on the Improvements later. Your interest money 
is no small amount, and It comes duo, regularly, 
twice a year.” 
“ Perhaps you are right” George replied, as he 
gazed out of the windows with a far away look In 
his eyes. “I think, though, the Improvements 
will help me to pay the debt all the sooner, tor 
Maplewood Is even now, more than two thousand 
dollars better, as a piece of property, for what has 
been done.” 
“It was a hard winter for us, and we are a 
little behind you know.” 
“ Don’t worry, May, f we have any sort of a 
season, I am going to get a little ahead this year. 
My trout are about large enough t-o sell, and that 
Is a larm crop we had not taken Into considera¬ 
tion at all.” 
It certainly had been a hard winter, as May bad 
suggested, a winter so full of experience for the 
THE BUBAL 1EW-Y0BKEB, 
young couple that they hoped never to see such 
another one. They had lived through it, however, 
and now that the sprlDg had come again, bringing 
with It a promise of better things, they felt more 
hopeful for the future. 
When the morrow dawned, It was but a repeti¬ 
tion of the lovely day that, smiled upon their mar¬ 
riage two long years before. “ It Is a good omen, 
May,” her husband remarked as be assisted her 
into the carriage, as they were starting to spend 
the day with Charles and Sarah. 
“ I trust It will prove so,” she answered ear¬ 
nestly. 
“Now Susan, bring ‘Jack Bunsby,’” said the 
young man, and he completed tucking the afgban 
around his wife. 
“ I wish you wouldn’t call that child such awful 
names, George, really-” 
“ Well, John Ascotl, then,” he answered, giving 
the little fellow a toss In the air, and carefully 
depositing him In hts mother’s tap. 
“ Are you trying to kill him ?” 
‘•No, Puss, exercising him, that Is all. Are we 
ready now? Look out for tramps, Susan.’’ 
They drove rapidly down the avenue of Maples, 
ruby tinted with swelling buds ready to burst. Into 
a million leaflets, and as the carriage emerged Into 
Prospect road, a vision of enchanting loveliness 
burst upon them. The landscape, but lately 
marked by fields of sombre brown—save here and 
there with the richer umber of the ploughshare’s 
painting—now touched by tbe magic wand of 
sprlDg, andjdssed by tbe sunbeams, appeared In 
undulating waves of tender green ; and where the 
distant back-ground of forest and mountain lay 
cold and gray against the sky, catching the Inspi¬ 
ration or awakening nature, now flushed into a 
hundred tints of purple. Happy birds sang In the 
trees and hedges; nimble squirrels stared timidly 
out from tbetr hiding places to great them as they 
passed, and the very air seemed filled with tiny 
forms of Insect life, glad to greet again the warm 
sunshine, Before them the blue waters or the 
hay stretched away to meet the deeper blue of 
the ocean, flecked and dotted with Innumerable 
sails—tiny atoms upon the world’s great highway 
—ocean and ships losing themselves at last in the 
distant horizon. 
“ I wonder, May, If there Is a ship sailing over 
the ocean to us?” 
“I hope, so,” his wife answered, her eyes looking 
far beyond ships or clouds; “ but we must not Idly 
wait Its coming or ’twill never anchor In our 
port.” 
“ When our ship comes In—who knows—” 
“ Ah, George, how many are waiting, waiting, 
watting lor tne ship that never comes.” 
“ Dere’e our ship. Wake up Bunsby, and take a 
squint at your native heath. You're a regular llllle 
Clyde built clipper, with breadth of beam and 
depth of hold sufficient to entitle you to flrsbclass 
register. How many tons burden, May v Give me 
the little scamp, I want to teach him to drive. 
I’ll have him on the milk wagon before next 
spring-” 
“ You'll have him under the wheels In another 
minute." 
Arriving at Charles' they were warmly wel¬ 
comed by Barah, and an hour was very agreeably 
spent in conversation. Thinking, however, that 
the two slsters-ln-law might wish to have a cosy 
time by themselves, George, with the usual kind 
consideration of husbands under such circum¬ 
stances, stepped around to tils bi other’s place or 
business to heat the news. 
“ Have you taken up that mortgage, George ?” 
his brother asked, at the very outset of the con¬ 
versation. 
“No—why?” 
“ Because Stone Is dead.” 
“Joseph stone, dead /” he exclaimed, In aston¬ 
ishment. 
“ That was the report at the bank this morning, 
How will it affect you ?" 
“ Badly enough, under some circumstances.” 
“ They say he was considerably Involved.” 
“ The deuce i” said George, reflectively; “ then I 
had better be looking up two thousand dollars 
before tne foreclosure, for 1 suppose his creditors 
will want to settle In a hurry.” 
•■I believe the law gives six months,” Charles 
remarked. 
“ Rut they may not give me six months in which 
to take up the mortgage. Hang the thing: I wash 
it had been paid off." 
“ Well, why haven’t you paid It off, or a part of 
It at least. What have you been doing with your 
money 7” 
“ improving the farm,” the younger brother re¬ 
plied. 
“ And what will your Improvements amount to 
If they force a sale ?” 
“ That’s the mischief of It. Have you any money 
to loan Charles ?” 
“ I’m sorry to say I haven’t. That Is, 1 ha ve 
none to spare, but 1 think you will have no difficul¬ 
ty In raising It almost anywhere, its such a sate In¬ 
vestment. 1 wish 1 had the money, George J” 
“ t wish you had,” tbe young man answered 
with a deeply drawn sigh. 
“ Father could fix you up all right if he would.” 
“ Don’t speak of father, for heaven’s Hake, unless 
you wish to Irritate me. But I must raise It some¬ 
where, tor it would break May’s heart to be 
obliged to leave Maplewood a second time. Don t. 
mention this at the house, Charles. She’ll know 
or it soon enough, I'll warrant. ’ 
The dinner would have been a most enjoyable 
affair, but the news of the morning had thrown a 
damper over George’s enjoyment, and May, read¬ 
ing his face at a glance, felt that something un¬ 
usual had happened, though she rerralned from 
questioning until a more tavorable opportunity. 
On the way home Bhe learned or the unpleasant 
rumor and her mind was filled with dark forebod¬ 
ings in consequence. Bhe openly regretted that 
the indebtedness had been allowed to run without 
ell ore to lessen It, tearing that it was even now 
too late to redeem themselves. 
“ 1 know I can raise the money, May,” her hus¬ 
band assured her. “ There Isn't a safer Invest¬ 
ment In the town of 8-. Charlie told me this 
morning that Maplewood was considered one of 
the best pieces c f property In the township, since 
It came Into my hands. Don’t worry—It may give 
me a little present annoyance, but I entertain no 
doubts for the future. Keep courage, little one, 
and some day. rest assured, we shall own Maple¬ 
wood out and out.” 
CHAPTER XII. 
A PROSEI.TTE. 
The season opened most auspiciously, and the 
young farmer was so busy with his spring-plant¬ 
ing and other duties and employments of the 
farm that crowd so closely upon each other at 
t his time, that t he death ot Mr. stone hardly came 
Into his mind. He had broached the matter of a 
loan at the bank, should It become necessary, and 
M r. Rond, tbe Treasurer, had spoken favorably or 
Maplewood as security lor even a larger amount 
than that asked, and resting upon this security 
George had given his whole time and t houghts to 
his rarmlng operations. 
He was Impressed with but one. Idea now, and 
that to make the farm yield Its utmost, and to put 
aside every dollar that, could be made by combinod 
thrift and economy, to tbe end of getting on bis 
feet again. May, like a heroic little woman as 
she was, determined to do her share tu paying off 
the mortgage, she 6et her wits to work to devise 
new modes of economy in the household depart¬ 
ment ; doing her own millinery and areas maklng ( 
and In addition to other duties took the entire 
management of the dairy upon herself. George 
protested against her doing ho much, but she was 
as firm as a rock, having made up her mind to It— 
what woman Is not—so nothing more was said. 
1 bey were working for an object, ana their labor 
was as sweet as the sleep that catne to them when 
the toilsome hours were over. 
Ye aimless ones In life's field of duty, what will 
the harvest be wheD your days are gathered into 
yellow sheaves? What golden grain will fall upon 
the threshing floor as one by one the garnered 
years shall come beneath the flail of time? 
Old Silas Wilkins was quite a frequent visitor at 
the farm -house now. since Ms talk In the winter 
upon stock feeding he had been slyly experiment¬ 
ing, and having satisfied himself that his cattle 
"didn’t look any wuss” for the new feed when 
spring came, he resolved to give the fertilizer ques¬ 
tion a trial as well. So he talked with Ms younger 
neighbor, using shrewd arguments while doggedly 
sticking to his own opinions, making mental notes, 
however, as the young man dilated upon “the 
science of the thing,” or explained Its practical 
bearings, in fact, he sent tbe old gentleman home 
upon sundry occasions, with his head so full of 
“ organic matter,” “ nitrogen,” “ phosphoric acid, 
"soluble salts,” “ ash constituents,” etc., that his 
Ideas were entirely “reverted,' “reduced'' or 
“precipitated” into a jumble of meanlugless ab¬ 
surdities. Then tlio “book men” were at a dis¬ 
count " and • the old, sensible way ” was declared 
the best after al<. But George finally simplified 
things by practical illustration, and the force of 
example was so strong Uncle Silas could not help 
dabbling a little himself, and before the spring 
was over had actually spent a whole hundred dol¬ 
lars in fertilizers purchased and used under George’s 
direction. 
The two become great friends of coui’se. The 
older man doing many a good turn for the younger 
farmer, but In so quiet a way, It- would have been 
cruel to have acknowledged it. The ftin of It was. 
Uncle Silas considered he had round an apt pupil 
in the ancient art ot agriculture and he pointed 
with pride to George's fertile acres as an exam¬ 
ple of what had been accomplished by Ms own 
counsels and advice, aided by a little book la rain 1 ” 
The young man humored the elder farmer In his 
vagary, by consulting him upon many questions 
of practice, often finding that Ms old friend could 
teach him many things most advantageous to 
know. Another thing that amused George was 
t he man ner in which the walls and fences a round 
1 he Wilkins’ farm grew better and better. Things 
were undoubtedly brightening, but humor gave 
way to astonishment, when one afternoon acouple 
or handsome Jerseys were observed quietly feeding 
In the meadow adjoining the Maplewood posses¬ 
sions. 
“ What's up! Uncle Silas, whose cattle are you 
pasturing there?" 
“ Well, I’ll tell ye, George.” the old fellow began 
in a confidential strain, taking a big bile from a 
plug of tobacco, “ye sec I had a fust rate chance 
to get ’em cheap. I don't suppose they’re any bet¬ 
ter cattle than those two old red cows down tliar 
by the brook, but they were such powerful milkers, 
I thought mubby It was a special inducement to 
buy. But them red cows arc fine milkers too. I’ll 
warrant ye I No belter cattle In the country! 
What do you get a pound lor butter, George?” 
one evening May and her husband were Bitting 
together talking over future plans and prospects, 
when there came a series of quick, sharp raps up 
on the front door. It was so sudden both started 
io their feet and for a few seconds stood as if 
waiting a repetition. Jn a moment George came 
to his wits, and opening the door, a sombre ap¬ 
parition in the shape of a little dried tip old man 
walked In. 
“Mr. Ashton, I suppose?” said he. “Ah, good 
evenlDg madame! A right cosy place tills! IITn 1” 
“Will you be seated sir!” 
“Thank you, Ahem! When my late client, 
Mr. Slone- Mr. Joseph Stone-owned this place, 
It hadn’t as cosy a look asltseerns to have now. 
You believe in home comforts I see. II’m!” 
“ Your business, sir!” George asked quietly. 
“ Oh yes—ray late client Mr. Btone—Mr. Joseph 
Stone—held a mortgage on this place, I believe, 
for two thouBaud dollars, bearing Interest at six 
percent., payable semi-annually. II m I and the 
little old man stared around the room most 
sharply. 
“ Yes, there Is a mortgage wMch I suppose 
must be taken up prior to the settlement of the 
estate of your client— late client I should say, and 
It Is doubtless upon this business that you have 
called to night?” 
“ Yo-as, exactly! exactly .' n’ml” I suppose 
you are ready to take up the mortgage 7” he said, 
looking George squarely in the eye for the first 
time. 
•' Well,—No-o,—I am not ready at the present 
moment, but I think it can be arranged in a few 
days. Of course his administrator will give me a 
reasonable time?” 
“ Executor, sir. The deceased appointed an 
executor In his will—but that Is of slight moment. 
As to the lime,—Ah! yes—a month will serve 
your purpose, sir ; that will give you till the mid¬ 
dle of June, and In case the mortgage is not taken 
up by that time, It- will be my painful duty to 
foreclose.” 
" I shall bo ready, sir. by that time, and thank 
you for your timely notice ” 
“You nave Improved the place, Mr. Ashton, 
very much since, ab-my late client, Mr. Joseph 
Stone was Its possessor. Do Improvements pay, 
Mr. Ashton? 1 suppose the madame enjoys her 
old homo. It really grieved me when T sold out 
old John Aseott, mteen years ago. U rn 1" 
“ My wife has not forgotten It, sir ; It Is not nec¬ 
essary to recall It.” 
*• Ahl beg pardon, madame, no offense was In¬ 
tended, T assure you. ire will give you one 
month. Mr. Ashton. Good evening, madame! 
Good evening, sir. Don’t trouble yourself to 
come to the door. Really, a fine evening. H’m! 
One month fromto-lay, Mr. Ashton. Goodnight!" 
“One month from to-day, my darling,” said 
George, as he entered the sitting-room again, 
“ and then-” 
“ Ofi, husband, If—” 
“ No, no, May, It must Dot, It shall not be. 
Maplewood Is yours now, and none there are who 
shall take It from you. I can raise tbe money.”— 
7b be continued. 
THE EYE OPENEB. 
The trequency of Inquiries from our subscrib¬ 
ers, about the reliability of different parties who 
are doing newspaper advertising, convinces us 
that publishers can not be too carorul in the selec¬ 
tion of suitable advertisements for their columns. 
A number ot our contemporaries are mnnmg ad¬ 
vertisements for parties known to us to be unre¬ 
liable and “ tricky ” concerns. The Rubai. New- 
Yoreer has rejected over |5,ooo worth of adver¬ 
tising since January last, coming from parties 
whose reliability we could not fully endorse; 
and an examination of our pages will convince 
our readers, that they are free from all such 
class ot business, and will also prove that In 
In point ot legitimate and reliable advertisements 
tile Rural Nlw-Yokkkh is second to no paper In 
this country, to keep these pages pure and re¬ 
liable. requires the very closest scrutiny, and 
olteniimes it Is attended with much expense; for 
l'l £»o far as It, is possible, we admit no advertise¬ 
ment until one of our staff has personally ex¬ 
amined the articles, and also ascertained the re¬ 
liability ot the advertiser. 
Two Instances happened during the past fort¬ 
night, one coming from Philadelphia and the 
other from Texas, the former signed “Toxicolo¬ 
gist” and the other R, K. Land Commissioner, 
both of which were held for examination. 
On a recent visit to Philadelphia one of our staff 
called on the Toxicologist, at on Lodge 8t., and 
found the place to be a second-class lager beer 
saloon. Upon inquiring, be found that the would- 
bo advertiser had bis mail sent to this place, 
colled in the morning, got It and went away, no 
one knew where, or at least they pretended not t.o 
know, and we naturally conclude the party be¬ 
longs to the class of “ not-to-be-found ” adver¬ 
tisers. 
In the case of the Texas “ R. R. Land Commis¬ 
sioner,” above referred to, we learned from re¬ 
liable parties, in answer to the tracers sent out 
from this office, that this man, Wilson, was in no 
way connected with any K. K. company, and that 
he was a tenant on a small farm which he had re¬ 
cently taken to work on shares, and we advise him 
to get located in a county where t here Is n railroad, 
before entitling himself R. R. Land Commissioner; 
as he may in that way get his advertisement in 
some paper from which he can realize some sales of 
his “ valuable book ” for “ only $1.” Whea news¬ 
paper publishers get Into a position to care more 
for their readers than for the many dollars that 
come through tills class ot advertising, and Insist 
on nothing less than reliable and trustworthy ad¬ 
vertisements appearing In their columns, readers 
of papers will then nave confidence in the entire 
paper and thus help all legitimate advertisers to 
receive much butter returns. Wo will thank aDy 
of our readers who do not get satisfactory returns 
from any parties who advertise with us, t.o notify 
us of the fact, for In so far as it Is possible we hold 
ourselves responsible for the trustworthiness of 
our advertisers. 
-♦♦♦-- 
COTTAGE HOSPITALS IN ENGLAND. 
The case of the sick is dear to the hearts of the 
ladles of England, and ministering to them has 
always been justly considered one or the special 
missions of women. The problem ot how to help 
the poor to help themselves, rat her than to de¬ 
moralize and to degrade them to the rank of 
ordinary paupers, by an elaborate system of Indis¬ 
criminate alms-glvlng is one of the most difficult 
In political economy, and one wMch has been fre¬ 
quently discussed tn connection with this subject. 
Especially must It claim attention lu times ot de¬ 
pression, trouble, and need. With a view to ame¬ 
liorate tho sufferings ot tho poor, the Hj’stem of 
cottage hospitals has attracted great and increas¬ 
ing attention during the last twelve years. It has 
been computed that in that time there have been 
erected throughout the country more than one 
hundred hospitals wMch truly deserve the name 
