2 
‘NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
the G. A. Priest school Wednesday 
afternoon to see the children leave 
the building. 
It was a little after 2 o’clock when 
I called at the school. On sugges- 
tion of Mr. Mead I stood in the lower 
hall of the building, where I could be 
least noticed by the children as they 
marched out. 
The first warning was the loud tap- 
ping of a drum in the upper hallway, 
sounding the alarm. Hardly had the 
drum sounded when two boys came 
bounding down stairs, one on either 
side, and opened the outside doors. 
Meanwhile I could hear a slight com- 
motion in the four rooms on the first 
floor, as the children dropped their 
work and hurriedly formed in line in 
their respective rooms. In another 
instant the drummer boy above started 
to drum, and as he did, out from the 
two rooms inthe rear of the building 
marched the little ones, with steady 
step, keeping time with the drum. 
They marched in close ranks, and 
before half had left their rooms, I 
could see at the head of the stairs the 
children from the upper floor march- 
ing down the stairs four abreast. And 
in much less time than it takes to 
write this the building was empty. It 
took just 47 seconds from the time 
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the drum started till the building was 
empty. 
The children on the lower floor, in 
the two front rooms, left the building 
by the front entrance. 
One thing which strongly impressed 
me was the profound coolness of the 
children. One would naturally expect 
children under these circumstances to 
be more or less in confusion, or to be 
laughing and whispering; but not 
once did I notice anything but perfect 
order. They seemed to be bent on 
one thing — that of getting out of the 
building in the quickest time and 
with greatest order. 
It is a question, of course, whether 
children could keep their wits about 
them in case they were called out for 
areal fire. They go through the drill 
so often now, however, that the teach- 
ers themselves seldom know whether 
or not there is a fire. Unless there 
would be a strong evidence of danger, 
they would, in all probability, march 
from the building before they knew 
the exact conditions. 
The drill is, to say the least, some- 
thing Manchester ought to be proud 
of. Mr. Mead and his corps of teach- 
ers are to be highly congratulated on 
their work and upon the degree of 
perfection to which they have brought 
the drill. 
WORDS AND PHRASES; 
CREEDS AND DOGMAS. 
Better Spend the Time and Force Spent in 
Arguing these in Trying to Put into Men 
the Spirit of Christ and in Redeeming their 
Souls from Sin, says a Manchester Minister. 
‘‘Beyond the Horizon,” was the 
subject of a very interesting sermon 
by Rev. John Holland Whitaker at 
the Congregational church, Manches- 
ter, last Sunday morning. His text 
was from Psalms, 17 : 24 — “I shall be 
satisfied when I awake unto thy like- 
ness.’ He said in part: 
«©The thing which most perplexes 
and baffles us upon life’s sea is our 
constant effort to penetrate the mys- 
tery and obscurity of that which lies 
beyond our horizon. It is the perpet- 
ual effort of man to know the unknow- 
able and to strive for the unattainable. 
And especially is this true in the 
spiritual life. Nowhere else do we 
find men chafing more restlessly under 
their limitations than in their persist- 
ent search after the hitherto unre- 
vealed things of God. 
“How much better than arousing 
strife and animosity and bitterness 
and hatred in trying to prove whether 
men are, or are not, predestined to 
eternal death, the answer to which 
lies entirely beyond our horizon, to 
expend that force in trying to put into 
men the spirit of Christ and to redeem 
them from lives of daily sinfulness. 
This is, I think, more and more the 
verdict of the increasing intelligence 
of the race upon all such controversy. 
And yet, I am afraid that the term, 
theologieum odium, still stands today 
as the strongest expression for all that 
is bitter and fiercely intense in men’s 
denunciation of each other. 
“We still continue to cavil over 
words and phrases of creeds and over 
matters of dogma in which, if the 
Blessed Master were upon earth, he 
would have very little interest. I am 
sure that to his mind it would bea 
thing of superior importance to give 
to some thirsty soul a cup of cold 
water. 
“ But do you ask ‘is it wrong for us 
to think and to speak about the life 
beyond the grave?’ Certainly not; 
so long as you approach the subject 
reverently and with the understanding 
that itis one of the things unknowable, 
because God has placed it beyond our 
horizon. 
‘‘ We cannot tell where heaven is; 
but in that life to come, that great, 
unknown somewhere, towards which 
our hearts irresistibly turn in their 
hours of loneliness, are souls today 
which were very dear and precious to 
me when they dwelt upon this earth. 
And in the silence of life, when I am 
alone with God, my soul goes out to 
these souls in infinite desire and long- 
ing. 
«This habitation may be some fair 
and wondrous city, with shining streets 
and noble towers and splendid domes 
and battlements of glory, where throng 
the saints of light. I do not know. 
But this is the comfort of my life, that 
somewhere, perhaps all about me, 
these souls are rejoicing today in the 
Father’s likeness, and that if some 
sweet day I shall awake in this likeness, 
I shall have again blessed companion- 
ship with those I have loved on earth, 
and no matter where this white city 
of the soul, I shall be satisfied.”’ 
Shot in the Leg. 
George Blaise, a young lad living 
with the Israel Martins on Summer. 
street, Manchester, is in a Boston hos- 
pital with a bullet hole in his leg. 
Thanksgiving day Blaise and Mark 
Edgecomb went to Manchester Cove 
with rifles in search of wild ducks. 
They both espied one in the water at 
the same time, and being somewhat 
separated from each other, both fired 
at the same time. * The bullet from 
Edgecomb’s rifle went wild and struck 
his companion in the leg, just above 
the knee. The lad was taken to a 
Boston hospital, where his condition 
is not considered serious. 
Sewing machines at Dyer’s. * 
