THE RURAi. NEW-YORKER. 
$ertrtn$ for tbc Jfoimg, 
OUR COMING GUEST, JUNE. 
A fair young maiden, who makes us an annual 
visit, has sent some sure tokens t.o give notice or 
her speedy arrival; and It. behooves us, one and 
all, to be prepared with a Joyous, heart-felt wel¬ 
come. Her radiant, beauty ts the theme of every 
tongue; and to secure the gratitude of even the 
most insensible, site brings precious gifts, which 
none are too poor to be precluded from enjoying, 
none so rich as to undervalue. 
ller eyes are of the deepest blue, cradled be¬ 
neath lids of snowy whiteness, ller hair floats 
around her like a inlst, by the sun tinged golden- 
hue. Site wears a robe of green, varying from the 
most delica te shade to the richest emerald color, 
and at sunrise, when she appea rs the loveliest, her 
drapery is covered with tear-drops, which her lov¬ 
er, the day-god, as he ascends la his strength, 
kisses away, ller breath Is like the odor uf new- 
mown hay, and about her, as she moves on, floats 
the perfume of innumerable flowers which spring 
up at her Jet t,, loon her brow she wears a chap¬ 
let of white llltee, while in her hand she carries a 
cluster of roses—roses Of every tint, for these most 
exquisite ol Flora's offerings are the maiden’s pride 
and Chief ornament -dome of unsullied white meet 
to adorn t in tresses of a bride, others of vailed 
hues, from ( he most sanguine purple to a shade us 
faint as LUai which dyes the cheek of girlish beau¬ 
ty. Tbc starry blossoms Of the strawberry, which 
spangle t he meadows,at the touch of her insy ling¬ 
ers blush oiio perfect ripeness and, with the floral 
ti ensures Mm brings, oiler this fruit ol a flavor so 
rare aud d float e as to render It meet for the ban 
quels of the dwellers on Mount Olympus. 
Nor is sir 1 -unattended by music, birds of a thou 
sand hues, and with notes as diverse as their plu¬ 
mage, chant their glad carols In the soft atmos¬ 
phere which floats around her. Especially do the 
merry bobolink, the dear domestic martin aud the 
solitary wood thrush rejoice In her presence. The 
first seems actually dizzy with happiness, tor he 
makes no pause In his song, even when on the 
wing, hut, careering In mld-alr, poure forth a gush 
of sweetest melody; then, slowly descending, he 
alights upon the top ol a tall herb, and while It 
sways under Ills fairy weight., he continues to warble 
those strains, so liquid, so enrapturing In ihelr 
flow, that the listener may well address 1dm, as 
Shelley does the English skylark: 
" Teach me half the gladness 
That thy brain must Imow, 
Such harmonious maduess 
From my lips would flow. 
The world should listen then, as 1 am listening now.” 
Assuredly do all the feathered tribe appeal’given 
up to Joyousness while our gentle divinity stays. 
But her visit will be brief, and shall not we as well 
as the birds and flowers, mako the most of her 
fleeting t hough blessed presence ? l,et us not con¬ 
iine ourselves to narrow walks ai d dusty streets, 
but go forLh Into the fields and upon the hills to 
gaze with unobstructed vision on all her loveliness. 
Let us open uur hearts to Imbibe her precious In¬ 
fluences. A long period of scorching heats, of 
storms and snows, aud piercing blasis will inter¬ 
vene ere she can return to gladden the earth. Be¬ 
fore that time arrives, some of us who welcome 
her now may have received a summons to that 
better laud of the glories of which her beauty Is a 
faint type. May we then dismiss from our minds 
all envy, hatred, strife, and earlh-boru cares, all 
murmurs and repining*. May we lea rn from our 
radiant visitor new lessons of love, hope and cheer¬ 
fulness. May gratitude to the ulvor ot all good, 
Who seuds her to bless ills unworthy creatures, 
warm our hearts. WHUe the birds make every 
leafy arch resound With their untaught hymns of 
praise, shall we whoso Ups have learned a loftier 
strain remain silent? Shull we not bring the 
sacrifice of kind deeds and gentle words, the per¬ 
fume of holy hearts, t o lay upou God’s altar ? Then 
as we watch the’roses withering—ror wither wo 
surely know they must—and see the lovely maiden 
depart, her emerald robe dimmed with the dust of 
earth, we can lift our thoughts to that fair land, 
whose flowers are unfading, whose pastures are 
ever verdant. Hall, then, bright typo of poren- 
niaj joys, thou lalrest of summer’s trio, thou fresh¬ 
ener ot the earth, cheerer of man’s heart, hall to 
thee, sweet month of roses, thou evcr-bloomlng 
June. Cuivick Bi.o.ssost. 
THE PORTUGESE MAN-OF-WAR. 
Did you ever hear of a Portugese Man-of-War? 
If so, and no explanation was given you as to what 
kind of vessel it was, you uo doubt pictured to 
yourself a large ship with magnificent rigging and 
many guns. There Is, however, another kind of 
ship called the Portugese Man of War, which Is 
shown in the picture, it is not at ail an Imposing 
vessel, as It. Is at best only a few Inches long and 
does not carry a single gun. It is a little animal 
that Inhabits t he tropical and adjacent seas, and 
one or the most lovely of the many beautiful crea¬ 
tures that live In the water. His related to the 
Jelly tlsheaj and Its scientific name is PUysallu, but 
from Its habit of sailing about It 13 commonly 
known us the Portugese Man-of-War. Its body Is 
an air-sack or bladder, tliecolorsor which are very 
beautiful, b dug mostly of itch shades of blue and 
purple. The frlnge-Uke crest Is often of a pink or 
rosy hue. Beneath the alr-saclc are a great num¬ 
ber ot fleshy tentacles, wldch hang down like tas¬ 
sels and threads of blue silk. These arc studded 
with starry pearls of the color of Indigo, which 
form borders and spirals of an elegance hardly to 
be conceived. 
In fair weather, these beautiful creatures may 
be seen sailing along upon the surface of the sea, the 
upper part of the body being Inflated with ah- aud 
acting like a sail; but In tempestuous weather 
they descend to the quiet depths of the ocean. 
This and many others ot the same class ot animals 
have a peculiar power to stlug very severely when 
touched. This power was doubtless given thorn as 
a means of defence, so that, although they are 
frail creatures and have no oigaus of locomotion 
that will enable tbeiu to avoid their pursuers by 
flight, they should not be left entirely at the mercy 
ot their enemies. The sting Is very painful, much 
more so than that of the nettle, and Is caused by 
numerous cells, called thread-cells, round on the 
tentacles and other parts of the body. These 
thread-cells are very minute bags, each ot which 
Is armed with an exceedingly uric and sharp sting, 
which they can extend and draw In at pleasure. In 
up to the bath-room, as fast as her short, fat legs 
would carry her, and .Timmy trotted after her. 
“ Now, i’ll show you," she said. Then she got 
Into the batli-tub. But sho soon saw that she 
wasn’t In the right place. 
“ The wicked folks ought, to be in here,” she 
said, “ ’cause the good ones didn’t get wet. We’ll 
have the clothes-basket for the ark.” 
So Jimmy climbed Into tbc basket, and Goldlocks 
turned on the shower-bath. 
“ Where am the bad ones?” asked Jimmy, 
“ We’ll have the gray cat for one,” said Gold- 
locks, “ ’canaO she scratched tne t'other day.” 
PORTUGESE MAN-OF-WAR, 
the bag Is a poison t hat flows through the sting Into 
the oft ending body and produces a burning sensa¬ 
tion. ’Hie motion of the sling Is interesting. It Is 
not thrust out by means of elastic cords, but the 
whole celLla turned or rolled out, like the turning 
of the finger of a glove. Large numbers of these 
animals are sometimes driven upon the temperate 
shores by the wind. Uncle Mark. 
-■*-*-*- 
LEARN TO WORK. 
“You will always have a living, boys,” 1 said, nsl 
stood in the orchard watching their horticultural 
operations, “if you learn a profession and then 
find the field overcrowded, there will he nothing to 
hinder your hiring out to work In orchards, lo take 
care of hot-beds aud greenhouse—to plant, prune, 
graft, and biul—all the little, nice work or an or- 
chardlst., and you may thunk a good father for 
making these things pleasant and easy for you. To 
know Just when, and lmw, and why to do things, 
from the experience of the early part of your life¬ 
time will be a recommendation If poor, and In 
need, and a boy that keeps his eyoBopen, and his 
hands willing, on a t'ruli farm can learn a good 
deal of use to him all through life. It is a critical 
period In the life of a boy when lie begins to think 
and talk of the future 
’ The thoughts of youth are long, long, thorn-flits' 
aud he builds bright air castles that are doomed 
to full, but. are pleasant in the building.” 
“ 1 talk as If I expected you wore going to be pour. 
do 1 ? Well, wbo knows. There are plenty of men 
who have been wealthy and by a sudden turn of 
fortune lost It nil. Yet none have a better chance 
of a comfortable, ximuiy living, mail the farmer 
and fruit-grower. Their produce is always needed, 
It must 1)0 had ; and, although all years nro not 
alike, Uio chances of sudden downfall are less than 
In any other occupation. • Have to work h ud, 
you say,’ All! hut It Is healthful, life-giving 
work, and I am sure not so wearing to soul or 
body as to drudge In a dark office, or behind a 
counter, with Its opportunities ror evil, Its petty 
temptations and perplexities. While you sleep, 
the trees are growing, the garden Is ready to un¬ 
fold new beauties when you wake, you have God's 
grand aviary ail around you, and a t housand bless¬ 
ings follow your slops. Burt air aud water, milk 
and honey at a trifling cost of money and labor, 
rich returns or tlic choicest fruit and flowers, afnl 
the Influence of a pleasant home.” 
Annie L. Jack. 
-- 
A LITTLE SINNER. 
Little Goldlocks sal on acrlcket at. her mamma's 
feet, hearing papa read the Bible. He read all 
about the flood, and the ark, and Noah, and the 
a nimals. When papa shut up the book, Goldlocks 
sat with her chubby hands folded, thinking very 
hard. 
“The rain fell and fell,” sho Said to herself, “and 
then the ark went Into the deep water, and Noah, 
and Ills folks and all the cattles and sheeps went, 
too. If Jimmy will be Noah, 1 will be Noah’s wife* 
and we can have the bath-tub lor the ark, and the 
sliower-bath will make rain Tiough, I guess.” 
Goldlocks didn’t, say one word out. loud, but; she 
sat tlmin on her cricket, thinking and thinking. 
At last affor everybody had left the room, she went 
in look tip Jimmy. lie was only four years old, and 
GoldlockH was six. You see, Mie yvns two years 
older t han her little brother, and ought not to Lave 
led him Into mischief. 
“ Want to make a flood, Jimmy?” asked Gold- 
locks. 
** What kind of a fud ?” 
“Why, like Noah’s! We’ll play that all the 
folks In t he house are naughty, and we are good; 
and I ’spose we might have the canary for a dove, 
and the geranium for an olive-tree to light on. 
Come up here In the bath-room, and I’ll show yon.” 
So off trotted that little mischief of a Goldlocks, 
“ She scratched me two, free, six times,” said 
■Jimmy. 
Then Goldlocks caught the gray cat aud took 
her oldest dollies, and put them In the Hood. Jim¬ 
my sat In the ark, and laughed and clapped Ills 
hands. Kitty didn’t like being a sinner In the 
flood, and she struggled hard to get out; but the 
little girl held her down stoutly. 
“Jump out of the ark, Jimmy,” she said, “and 
open the bird-cage door; we must have a dove. 
You can climb ou the sewing-machine. Mamma 
lets Dick out quite Often.” 
Jlrnmy obeyed, and then ran back to his refuge. 
But Just as lie was safely seated In his ark there 
was a splash and a cry, and nothing was left of 
Mias Goldlocks but her feet sticking up in the air. 
she had fallen Into the flood. Jimmy screamed as 
hard as lie could, and mamma came in a groat, 
fright. The poor half-drowned cat rushed out as 
mamma opened the door, ami the canary came 
very near going too. 
“What’s all this?” asked the mother, as she 
pulled poor streaming Goldlocks from tile water. 
“ it's the lud, and I’m Noah,” said Jimmy. 
“And 1 meant to be Noah's wife,” said Gold- 
locks, “ and the cat was one of ( lie sinners.” 
“Aral you got Into the sinner’s place7” said 
mamma. 
“ Yes," sobbed the child. 
“ Well,” said mamma, as she put the birdie back 
Into his cage; “ you were doing Just as the people 
did in Noah’s time. They disobeyed God aud you 
disobeyed me; so you got Into the right place after 
alL” 
“ Well, I dess I’m saved, anyhow,” said Jimmy, 
scrambling out of the ark.— Mrs. M. F. Butts, in 
Ch / • LsT iii n J&glster. 
- — -- ■»-»-■♦- 
IN THE BLACK MARIA. 
Not long ago a lad of nineteen came up from t he 
country to one or the sea-board cities, and secured 
a position In u large and well-known Importing 
house. He was a gentle, blue-eyed young fellow, 
almost womanish la his tastes, and In Ills love for 
ids home ami Ids family. 
Tnrortuuatoly, ho had no friends In the city. 
His evenings were passed In absolute solitude, or 
in the vulgar society of u cheap boarding-house. 
The boy became, depressed, gloomy. He fancied 
lie needed “ bracing up,” and felt Into the habit of 
dropping into a cheerful restaurant fora glass of 
wine. 
He soon made friends there who would Join him 
In a bottle. As with most, men not accustomed 
to Intoxicating liquor, he was maddened by a little. 
One night, being drunk, he quarreled with his 
companion, and stabbed him with a knife which 
lay on the table, The wound was notorious, but 
the lad was arrested and kept in the police-station 
until morning. 
lie was then led out (being now sober and hi his 
right, mind), and ordered Loget into t he prison van 
(known to the town as the Block Marla), which 
waited to convey him to prison. He shuddered and 
turned ghastly pale, muttering— 
“ What will my father say?” 
Bui he wan thrust in and the door locked. There 
was no one else In the van. When they reached 
the gale Of the prison the door was opened. The 
boy lay dead beside It, the blood from the throat, 
clotting t he face which his mother so lately had 
kissed. 
This Is an absolutely true story. It, teaches 
to young men the madness of tast ing that first 
glaas of liquor, of yielding to the temptations 
which beset friendless boys on every side In a great 
city. But has It, no meaning to those older men, 
Christians and fathers, who leave such lads with¬ 
out a friend, and put out no kindly hand to hold 
them back from temptation ?— youth's Companion. 
- --»-*-♦ - 
Be busy In your garden ; now Is the time when 
your skill, endurance, and Industry will be put to 
Lbetest. Water, weed and cultivate your plants 
with uutrammeied fervor. 
>aliMjr llwMitg. 
GALLING THE ANGELS IN. 
We mean to do it. Some clay, some day 
We mean to slacken this fevered rush 
That 1 b wearing onr very souls away, 
And grant to our goaded hearts a hush 
That is holy enough to let them hear 
The footsteps of augels drawing: near. 
We mean to do it. Oh, never doubt, 
When the burden of daytime broil is o’er, 
We’ll sit and muse, while the stars come out, 
As the patriarch sat at the open door 
Of his tent, with a heavenward gazing- eye, 
To watch for the angels passing by. 
Wc boo them afar at high noontide. 
When fiercely the world’s hot flashings beat; 
Yet never have bidden them turn aside. 
And tarry awhile in converse sweet; 
Nor prayed them to hallow the Cheer we spread, 
To drink of our wine aud break our bread. 
We promise our hearts that when Hie stress 
Of the life-work reaches the longed-for close, 
When the weight that we groan with biuders less, 
We’ll loosen our hearts to such repose 
As banishes caro’s disturbing diu. 
And then—we’ll call the angels in. 
The day that we dreamed of comes at length. 
When tired of every tnookiug ipioffl, 
And broken in spirit aud shorn of strength, 
We drop, indeed, at the door of rest, 
And wait and watch us the day wanes on 
But the augels we meant to call are gone ! 
[Christian Weekly. 
LOVE AND DUTY. 
REV. .1. LI. WKI.TY. 
Not long since we heard a person express the 
following sentiment: “ Away with the Idea of duty. 
1 >ut.y is so cold, formal, lifeless. 1 do not believe in 
any one being a Christian rrom a sense of duty. 
I want a man to be a Christian from love, pure 
love, and from love only." It la not too much to 
say that this Is mere sentiment. Perhaps we 
should say It Is bosh. Love and duly are cardinal 
virtues. Neither Is to be exalted at t he expense 
of the other. It must be admitted that where 
love predominates, where love prompts, there we 
shall have the higher type of Christian life. Love 
makes the warmest , most ardent, and most ener- 
gdic disciple, as if makes the rond and steadfast 
friend. l ove admires, adores, and Is even ready 
to make great sacrifice. Such was the love that 
permeated the heart of John, the beloved disci¬ 
ple. Where love like this Is the ruling power In 
the Heart, there duty becomes an easy task. 
When love, loads duty keeps no idle jw.ee. The 
loving disciple not only performs cheerfully what 
Is duty, but seeks also opportunities for now ac- 
t tv ICY. 
Love was the superior motive in the person of 
Lhc Lord Christ. It was the first great bond be¬ 
tween (lie Father and the Son. But, lot It be ob¬ 
served, that closely related to tlds was obedience. 
Jesus delighted to do the will of Gotl. And whilst 
He so loved us as to give Himself for us, ills devo¬ 
tion to duty was so great that lie humbled Himself 
aud “ became obedient unto ‘death, even lhc death 
of the cross.” But mens’ hearts are not, by na¬ 
ture, warm with love to the Father, nor to the 
Lord Jesus. “ Heroin Is love, not that wo loved 
God, but that ilo loved us, and sent His Son to be 
the proplllatlon for our sins.” The great demand 
ou us is love. “ Thou shu.lt love the Lord thy God 
With all thy heart, aud with all thy soul, und with 
all thy mind, This isKlie first and great command¬ 
ment.” But with this uod also demands obedience. 
“ Fear God and keep Ills commandments, for this 
Is t he ’Whole duty ot man.” This la the Old Testa¬ 
ment. form of a demand that Is made all through 
the Hertpluies. “My son, give me thine heart.’ 
And It Is nowhere taught or Implied that obedience 
Isio he withheld till love first makes ns feel like 
doing. The sinner, In Ids coldness, Is met with 
the demands of the gospel. Love, service and 
worship, ore required at Ids hands. If he would 
render all his tribute lie must turn Into the path 
ot obedience. He must, follow along that path. 
In Ills wicked way, aud under the dominion of his 
unrighteous thought, the sinner cannot have 
warm Impulses of love. Yet for all this he Is lo 
flee from the wrath to come. 
How, then. Is he to begin? By turning, In 
obedience to the Lord, to the word of his grace, 
und to the demands of ills love, in the rendering 
of tills obedience there will be a drawing near to 
Christ, and a learning of Him. And those who 
are learners of Christ are In the highway that 
leads to admiration, to sweet communion, to fond 
attachment, to love. It is so, then, that, love aud 
duty are two phases, or activities, of the Christian 
Life. They complement each other. They are both 
necessary. Duty rendered loads to love, and love 
eukludled makes duty a pleasing task. Some very 
excellent people are much concerned, and often 
lament greatly, bucause they do not have warm, 
gushing feelings of love. Though they go along In 
an even way and are attached to the Christian 
cause, yet they conceive that Ihelr love Is so cold, 
’they do not have that sensible delight, they Im¬ 
agine others have. Blit It should ue remembered 
that love Is npt warmed by lament ing over love’s 
poverty. The heart is not delighted by pondering 
over Its want, of delight. Dismiss such reflections 
about the measure and Intensity or love. Turn 
unto the Lord. Meditate In ills law and delight 
shall be the ret urn. You will warm love by steadi¬ 
ly and cheerfully discharging duty. Follow de¬ 
voutly and prayerfully along the path of obedience, 
ever remembering that the path of obedience Is 
the path to higher degrees of love, of happiness 
and of peace.— T/ir inlcru/r. 
Ik we do not subdue our anger, It will subdue us; 
It Is the second word that makes the quarrel—d. A. 
James. 
