182 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
pairing for tbr |otmg. 
A COLLEGE STORY' 
BY ELEANOR KIRK. 
A kthuk Hoyt looked at himself In the glass seri¬ 
ously, and without self-love or self-prejudice. He 
saw there a frank, good-natured face, a pair of 
blue eyes, and a mass of curly brown hair. As far 
as he could Judge, there was nothing particularly 
tut of the way with his countenance. 
“Sty, Dick,” he began, to his room-mate, who 
was puzzling ever a page of Xenophon, “ I've been 
taking account of stock, and I don't see anything 
unpardonably wrong about my features. They 
are not angular enough to be called sharp, nor 
level enough to be Justly styled flat; so I can’t 
exactly see the suitableness of the expression 
which has somehow come to be my college cogno¬ 
men.” 
“ Don’t be a fool 1” growled Dick, without look¬ 
ing up from his book. 
“ I have always been a great stickler for the fit¬ 
ness of things, eternal and temporal,” continued 
Arthur; “ and tf to be • A flat’ Is really applicable 
as a correct description of the impression my per¬ 
sonal appearance makes on my companions, all 
right 1 I'd as soon respond to that name as any 
other; but if It’s not mine, then, old fellow, It’s 
got to be stopped 1” 
" If you'd rob hen-roosts, and steal the house¬ 
keeper’s preserves, and lay traps to trip up old 
men and women, and raise Cain generally, you’d 
be the most popular fellow In college,” said Dick, 
with a disdainful grimace, still with his eyes fixed 
on his book. “ They let me alone, you see, because 
I don’t cave a hang for ’em, and because they kuow 
I’m as poor as poverty, and as dull as a hard-shell 
clam. You get ahead of ’em In class. I'm always 
jn the rear. You have money to subscribe to every¬ 
thing there is going, and you refuse to spend it 
In riotous living. 1 havnt any money, and there¬ 
fore I’m of no consequence. Whoever says that 
there Isn’t compensation for everything don't know 
what they are talking about." 
“You’re a patient old soldier,” said Arthur, 
with a merry luugh, “ and I wish I had some of 
your philosophy I But, the fact Is, every time 
I’m called ‘ A flat,’ I feel the fight tlngllug all over 
me. I am afraid that some time my fists will be¬ 
come unmanageable.” 
“ 1 guess not!” Dick replied. “You’d only get 
yourself in a woixe muss, besides .having some¬ 
thing to be sorry tor all the days of your life, 
perhaps 1 But there's the bell, and I’m all out 
of the bolt-ropes, as usual.” 
But there’s a row lu camp! ” said Arthur’s 
right-hand neighbor, as the young men took 
their seats in class. “Some of the boys scared 
old Mrs. Allen Into a fit last night, and they 
say It’s a ’liner.' Nobody thinks she’ll pull 
through. One of tne fellows dressed up In 
white, and rode the old woman’s cow clear Into 
the kitchen. They let out the pig, and stoned 
the house, and broke her windows, and goodness 
knows what they didn’t do. There won’t be any 
show for the toys that cut up those capers." 
“ Well, there oughtn’t to be!” said Arthur, In¬ 
dignantly. 
0 ust then the Greek Professor entered the class¬ 
room, and, after surveying the students a moment 
said, with great seriousness: 
“I am requested by the President to say to 
Arthur Iioyt and Richard Denham that they are 
to repair at once to the library, where the Faculty 
of this college wait, to see them.” 
“ All right, sir,” responded Arthur, pleasantly. 
Conscious Integrity made him bold. Dick arose 
slowly, and walked out in his usual dogged man¬ 
ner. 
“ Say, ‘ A flat,’ you’re In for It 1” said one or the 
class, In a low tone, as the young man passed him. 
“ Y’our turn has come now, ‘ A fiat P said another. 
“Alebbe you won’t be so high and mighty now 
you're round out at last l” 
’• What do you suppose It Is?” Dick Inquired, as 
ne came up with Arthur. 
“ some contemptible trick of the boys,” said Ar¬ 
thur ; “ but we shall soon know. Brace up, old 
fellow, for here we are.” 
A few words sufficed to put the visitors In posses¬ 
sion of all they wanted to know. Alter a few prelim¬ 
inary remarks, such as having been led to expect 
belter things from the young men before him, the 
President produced a large silk handkerchief, with 
“ Arthur Hoyt ” plainly marked in one corner. 
“ Does this belong to you, Hoyt?” the President 
Inquired. 
“it does, sir," replied Arthur, pleasantly. 
“And is tnis yours?” the gentleman asked of 
Dick, presenting a crooked stick, or cane, which 
the young man was accustomed to carry on long 
walks. 
“ That’s mine, sir,” said Dick. 
“And here Is a cuff with ‘A. Hoyt' marked on 
It,” the President continued, “torn from the wrist, 
probably, in the pleasant excitement of frighten¬ 
ing an innocent old woman Into a fit. • I shall be 
compelled to hold your property, sire, until such 
time as the Law of the college, or the law of the 
State, shall be passed upon you. Mrs. Allen is not 
expected to live.” 
"Iam very sony, sir,” said Arthur, respectfully; 
“and l am sure Dick Is, too; but what sort of jus¬ 
tice Is this that takes our guilt so entirely for 
granted ? Your evidence Is simply circumstantial, 
sir, and I wish to say here that I was never on 
Mrs. Allen’s premises In iny life, and I am quite 
sure Denham never was.” 
“I never was,” said Dick, with characteristic 
doggedness, “and I never expect to be.” 
“ What would you say, lloyt, If l were to tell 
you that one of the professors saw you there last 
night?” Inquired the President. 
“ 1 should say, sir,” Arthur responded, quickly, 
“that the professor was greatly mistaken; but If 
you were to tell me that one of the students saw 
me there, I should say that student lied,” 
There was a straightforwardness In the attitude 
of these suspected young men that was Irresisti¬ 
ble, still everything was against them. The old 
woman had testified that morning that she heard 
the names of Hoyt and Denharu pronounced more 
than once the night before. The conspiracy was 
well arranged, nothing, so far as known, having 
been left out in Its calculation. Arthur was In his 
room alone all the previous evening, but, as he 
thought It over, there was absolutely no one to 
testify to this fact. Dick had taken one oi his long 
walks Into the country, returning at ten o’clock. 
There was no way of proving this, either, for Dick 
had not spoken to a soul, and there was literally 
no way by which he could prove an alibi. Nothing 
more could be said at present, and A rtlmr and his 
chum withdrew and passed slowly along to their 
room, as the President had ordered. On their way 
they met several students, who, it was plain to be 
seen, were waiting for them to leave the library. 
“ You can't most always tell a fiat from a sharp.” 
said one of the number, a young man who had been 
particularly offensive lu bts manner to Arthur. 
“ We have all been mistaken In your character, 
my boy. I take notice that when these goody- 
goody fellows do take it Into their soft pates to cut 
up, they generally beat the rest of us all hollow In 
the meanness of their efforts.” 
Arthur's face was scarlet, and his hands worked 
nervously. He was lull of desire to knock this 
fellow down, and, under the exasperating cir¬ 
cumstances, It was hardly to be wondered at; 
but the young man had been trained In a 
different school, so he valiantly turned on his 
heel and left hla enemy without a word,— 
“ Valiantly ” is the proper term to describe Arthur 
Hoyt’s behavior lu this crisis. It would have taken 
physical strength only—and Arthur had plenty of 
that—to have flogged Steve Cary, the youDg man 
who had just pubflely insulted him, but it required 
real valor to turn away without either word or 
blow. That afternoon the tldlDgs of the death of 
Mrs. ABen threw the college Into terrible excite¬ 
ment. officers were promptly on hand, and Ar¬ 
thur and Dick were subjected to the most rigid 
scrutiny. The coroner’s Jury would convene the 
next morning, and until llien, at any rate, tho two 
young men were prisoners. The detective who 
had charge of them was a good-natured fellow, 
and after asking all sorts of questions, relevant 
and Irrelevant, as It seemed to his companions, he 
Anally said with a chuckle: 
“ They may be pretty smart up here In this col¬ 
lege, but they’ve got the wrong pigs by the ears 
this time. Say boys, come out for a walk! I can 
keep an eye on you just as well out-doors as In 
the house, and mebbe It 111 chirp you up a bit.” 
So out they went, the detective asking all sorts 
of questions, It seemed to his companions for no 
other purpose than to make conversation. As 
they drew near the lake, a laige and very deep 
sheet of water, Arthur saw that Cury was out In 
Ills—Arthur’s—tiny, shallow shell of a boat. 
“ lie'll have to be more careful, or he’ll upset, as 
sure as fate I” said Arthur, more to himself than 
to those about him. 
“ ’Twould be a pity to have him drown now!” 
growled Dick. “ Great heavens! there he goesl” 
Arthur, who had been watching the boat and Its 
occupant, threw off Ills coat and Ills boots, and, 
before tne detective could lay a hand on 14m, he 
had plunged Into the water, and was making with 
all his might for the drowning man. Cary, could 
not swim, and when Arthur reached him ho had 
come to the surface the second time. It required 
almost superhuman strength to bring him in, but 
the brave swimmer succeeded, and for a moment 
.Arthur lay panting and exhausted beside the In¬ 
animate form he had snatched from the water. A 
halt' an hour later, the still unconscious young 
man was borne to the college. Arthur, forgetting 
that he was a prisoner, did all In his power toward 
his enemy’s restoration. As they removed his 
coat, a large Russia-leather pocketbook dropped to 
the floor, and this Arthur took Into his own posses¬ 
sion. 
“You had better change your clothes at once, 
Hoyt!” a kind voice said, alter all had been done. 
Arthur turned, and saw the President. 
“All right, sir,” said the young man, presenting 
Cary’s pocketbook. I was afraid this mlgUC fall 
Into Improper hands, sir. It seems very lull ot 
papers." 
“ I hope I haven’t wronged you,” said the Presi¬ 
dent, with considerable feeling. 
“Rather hope that you have, sir,” said Arthur, 
with a smile; "tr you have wronged us, then we 
are Innocent, you know; but, whatever the result, 
I shall always feel that you have acted according 
to your best Judgment.” 
That evening, as Arthur, Dick and the detective 
sat In their room, waiting for they knew not what, 
a knock on the door was followed oy the entrance 
of the President. 
“Officer,"ue said, with trembling voice, “you 
can go to the parlor, if you please. These young 
men are not guilty, therefore they require no 
guard.” 
“I knew that afore,” said the detective, as he 
hastily left the room. 
“The pocketbook you gave me, Arthur,” the 
President began, “ has solved the mystery. There 
was but one student engaged In the miserable 
affair, and he has passed to his account,” he con¬ 
tinued, reverently. “ He was Joined by some 
young men from the city—what young men we 
shall probably never find out. I should have been 
more careful, boys,” and now the tears rolled down 
the good man’s face. “ I have cleared your name 
before the whole- college, and that Is all I can do. 
Even with poor Cary dead upstairs, your friends 
and your enemies Joined la a hearty cheer of good¬ 
will when 1 told them what I thought necessary.” 
Somehow It came to pass from that day till the 
(lay Arthur Hoyt left college, lie was never again 
called “Aflat."— Christian union. 
- 
LETTERS FROM BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Dear Rural Cousins. —I am sorry, indeed, to 
see so few letters from the boys and girls who used 
to write for the Rural, therefore I repeat the ques¬ 
tion asked by Old Maid some time ago, “ What 
has become of them ?” I miss their spicy letters 
very much and am half Inclined to side with Old 
Maid In the opinion that they have jumped the 
broomstick, so to speak, and forgotten us. Should 
tills be the case, my dear Maid, I think wc have 
been willfully slighted In not having boon Invited 
on that occasion. Autumn, my favorite season of 
the year, Is now fast approaching, when the cool 
bleak winds of September sweep over our parched 
continent, cooling our feverish, aching brows, and 
fighting Its battles with the much dreaded pesti¬ 
lence of the South. Now and then tho wind be¬ 
comes stronger, causing the waves to wash madly 
against the shores ot the lake, on which I spend 
the most of my spare moments. I love to sail on 
the water when It Is rough, and the wind blows, 
and to hear the waves lap against the boat, when 
the sun Is sinking to rest behind the dark gray 
mountains In the distance, casting Its departing 
golden rays here and there between the giant oak 
trees whose huge boughs shriek and moan la a 
wild and wlerd-llkc tone as they come lu contact 
with each other. I enjoy all this as my beat lays 
rocking like a cockle shell upon the waters. 
I love the winds continuous roar, 
Aw it wildly shriek * from shore to shore; 
1 love the billows' fnintics bound, 
Old Ocean’s wild and ceaseless sound. 
I am glad to see that some ot the cousins men¬ 
tion books In their letters, and should like to have 
them write and mention some of their favorite 
autbore. I am myself a great admirer of books, 
especially the poetical works of Milton, Poe and 
Shakespeare. I think Lenora W. hardly did Jus¬ 
tice to our Interesting correspondent from the 
Sandwich islands, l am well pleased to hear that 
Mr. Schwyn liked my last letter, but I wish to 
remind him that I do not belong to the tender sex. 
Slayerofconceit the II. deserves thanks for Ills 
continued efforts to break the oppressive silence 
which prevailed when he first made hla appear¬ 
ance lu our circle; may he not be so short-lived as 
Ills far-famed predecessor. I should like to see 
more ot those brilliant effusions written by Jump¬ 
ing Jack, Will Rural Lover come again? The 
remark I made In my last letter concerning her 
was not Intended for an Insult, therefore she will 
please not to take It os such. I ask myself over 
and over again, “Has Fern forsaken us?” aud the 
ouly answer I get Is the sad echo of my own voice. 
I should like to hear again from Cousin Empste, 
of Riverside, whose kind letters won at once my 
cousinly affectlou. And now, dear cousins, as I 
think my letter Ls becoming a nr. candidate Cor the 
waste basket, 1 will close, bidding you all an affec¬ 
tionate good night. Ivy. 
Ivysrest, N. Y. 
Dear Uncle Mark :—I have been reading the 
letters from the cousins with great Interest, so I 
thought I would write too. I would like to be a 
member of the Horticultural Club, If there is yet 
room for me. J have a fine lot of house plants, ot 
which the majority are Fuchsias. I also have a 
flower bed. They are nearly all In bloom now. l 
have the care of a good portion of our garden. 
Last year I learned budding. 1 budded several 
kinds of rosea, and had good success. I am trying 
It again tills year, if this does not find Its way 
to the waste basket, I will try again, i remain 
Your affectionate niece, 
Wuyno Co., Ohio. Anna Crouse. 
Dear Uncle Mark:—I thauk you for the bulb 
and seeds you sent ma The Gladiolus la 2T Inches 
high and Is just throwing up a flowering stalk. 
My garden is suffering some from drought, but I 
still give it my Care and attention. I have not sold 
anything yet, but hope soon to sell some sweet 
tomato pickles, l will tell the cousins how I make 
them. Put ripe tomatoes (small sized are best) In 
two-quart glass cans, and cover with water sweet¬ 
ened with honey or brown sugar, aud a few sticks 
of cinnamon. For home use we take atone Jars of 
any size. Hoping to hear from our new aunt soon, 
I will close with good wishes for the “Club.” Y T our 
niece, Mary E. Wright. 
Tuscola Co., Mich. 
Dear Uncle Mark :—I am eleven years old, and 
would like very much to join the Horticultural 
Club. I like to read the Rural, and especially the 
letters from the tittle folks. 1 have some flowers, and 
have raised a Finns edulls rrom the seed you sent 
out last spring. It does not grow very fast, I 
planted It in the house. We have to dig ditches 
around our Uower-beds to water them, as It does 
not rain very often here. Your affectionate niece, 
Larimer Co., Colo. Mary Nettie Blount. 
Dear Unole Mark :— I am a little girl, only nine 
years old. 1 have always liked gardening, and for 
a number of years ( have had a bed in the garden 
to care for. This year I have more. 1 have one 
flower bed, some Hubbard squash vines, carrots 
aud other vegetables. I try to take good care ot 
them all. I like the Rural very rnueli, especially 
the reading ror the young. 1 would be much 
pleased to join the Horticultural Club. Your 
young friend, Anna L. Farr. 
Wyoming Co., N. 1'. 
Dear Uncle Mark : — I write to ask If 1 can be¬ 
come a member of the Horticultural Club. If I 
can be admitted place my name upon the lart, 1 
take the rural and like It very much. I am 15 
years old and nice to work In the garden. I have 
quite a large plot planted wltn pop-corn which ls 
looking nicely. Hoping to see this In the Rural 
I remain yours truly. C. A. Porter. 
Stephenson Co., ill. 
Dear Uncle Mark:— Would you take a young 
Canadian Into your Horticultural Club? If so, 1 
would like to join. I like to read the Rural and 
the letters from the cousins. We have a small 
flower garden In which are Pseonles, Lilies, Pinks 
aud Dahlias, if I see this In print I will write 
again, John Horne, 
Ontario, Canada, 
iiblmtl] ^railing. 
RINK RELIGION. 
Tue advent of Mr. Moody gave a great Impetus 
to a kind ot observance which was already pre¬ 
vailing in this country, and which has sometimes 
been styled rink religion. It ls a well-known fact 
that religious services held In theatres, “ colosso- 
ums,” rinks and such like places have a strong at¬ 
traction for a certain class ot persons ; and it ls 
equally true that there ls a class of Christian 
“workers” who have a penchant for carrying on 
seivlces In these places. 
The reasons why the “ masses,” as they are * 
called, are fund of congregating in these places 
are not far to seek. In the first place, the unfit¬ 
ness of the place Is attractive to many minds. A 
religious service in a church ls a seemly and deco¬ 
rous thing; but a religious service In a rink or a 
circus-tent ls someth lug out of tho common ; there 
ls a pleasing Incongruity about It which to many 
persons ls highly amusing. They attend such a 
service for the same reason that they go to see 
the five-legged calf or the two-headed nightingale. 
These places are haunted not only by worship¬ 
pers of the Incongruous, hut also by that large 
class of persons who have been happily described 
as “the camp-stool congregation”—those who al¬ 
ways go where the newest sensation ls, and who 
are never truly happy except when they are lu a 
crowd. 
Of these two classes there are enough In any 
considerable community to crowd tbe largest as¬ 
sembly room that can be found lu the neighbor¬ 
hood. And when tne crowd is gathered, it Is easy 
to stir up a considerable amount ot feeling. The 
persons who compose such an auditory are gen¬ 
erally excitable; tbe lively music, the vigorous 
aud pathetic appeals of the preachers readily af¬ 
fect them, and we often sec-m to see large num¬ 
bers of them entering upon tne religious life. 
Such services, however, come to an end before 
many weeks, and then these new disciples find 
themselves suddenly set. adrift. AH their religious 
experience has been connected with the rink or 
the tabernacle; when that Is closed they are not 
drawn in any other direction. The influence of 
locality upon the religious life Is a great deal 
stronger Ilian some persons think; the place 
where prayer Is wont to be made, is the place to 
which those who have learned to pray love to be¬ 
take themselves: the less cultivated the worshiper 
ls, the less Inclined is he to worship in a strange 
place; tlfb more ls he dependent for his religious 
enjoyment upon local associations. Though the 
churches all open their doom for these converts of 
the rink, very many of them will fall to enter the 
churches ; or It they do go a tew times, all the sur¬ 
roundings are strange to them and they soon 
cease to appear In the places where they would be 
welcome. 
It was the observation of tills fact that led Mr. 
Moody, during the last winter to seek to connect 
his work more directly with the churches. He has 
come to feel that it Is far better to make use of the 
church as the Instrument of evangelization thau 
to create other machinery, simply because the re¬ 
sults of his work are lu this way so much more 
fully harvested and secured. The method which 
he followed last winter In Baltimore Is leas spec¬ 
tacular aud striking thau that which he had fol¬ 
lowed previously; but in the long run he thinks it 
will be more productive ; and the adoption of it 
does great credit to his head and his heart. It 
shows that he possesses sound sense, and that he 
ls not asolflsh seeker utter notoriety. 
It ls to be hoped that Mr.Moody ’s conclusion will be 
adopted by those who have been hitherto his most 
ardent dlsclple3, and who have been inclined to 
do their Christian work almost wholly outside 
of the churches. It ls true that there are desti¬ 
tute neighborhoods. In which there are no 
churches, and in which religious service of some 
kind ought to be held. For this klud of missionary 
work there Is room and reason. But the practice ot 
carrying on outside religious services of an inter¬ 
mittent character In the immediate neighborhood 
of churches Is a practice which In the majority of 
cases ought to be discouraged. The people who 
are gathered Into these places ought to be gath¬ 
ered into the churches; their religious life ls likely 
to have a healthier and more fruitful development 
If It ls “ planted In the courts ot tho Lord” than If 
It springs up In connection with some sporadic re¬ 
ligious service. It may be said that the people 
who attend these outside services think that they 
are not wanted In the churches, aud will not. enter 
them. If this ls the case then the first thing to 
do ls to disabuse their minds ot this error, and 
make them believe that the churches are the very 
places where they are wanted. Andie this Is not 
altogether an error of theirs — and If there are 
some features of the church administration which 
are calculated to discourage their attendance- 
then the first thing to be done Is to reform the 
church, so that It. shall offer a hearty and emphatic 
welcome to those who most need the gospel. To 
one or the other of these labors those zealous Chris¬ 
tians who are now devoting themselves to the 
propagation of rink religion might well turn their 
energies. If the time and money and zeal and 
tact that they now expend III keeping up religious 
meetings of one kind or other outside the churches 
in their neighborhood, were expended In gathering 
these outsiders Into the churches and making the 
churches places into which all the people would 
delight to go, the results of their labors would he 
larger and more permanent .—Sunday Afternoon. 
Our moral power wfll be precisely In proportion 
to the measure ot our grace: if we have little 
grace we shall do but little good; but It we are 
“ filled with all the fullness of God,” we shall ex¬ 
ert a vast Influence upon tho interests of men.— 
Dr. Peck. 
-^- 5 “ 
A believer studies more how TO adorn the cross 
than how to avoid It,— Wilcot, - 
