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velvet arm-chair, by his marble table, and į stopped, and set down his foot resolutely. his thoughts went back through the long “I'll do it--I will do it this very night!” winding path of the years of his youth. / and he went into the hall and took up his His boyhood-his glad, careless boyhood, cane, and passsed out into the street, concame back to him. The gentle, loving trary to his usual habit, for the night was mother, the young sweet face of his sister, dark and cold. rose up before him, and he saw the little brown cottage where his life came up to “Did you see Mr. Minor, Henry ?" It him. The old apple-tree in front was frosted was a faint, mournful voice which asked with the blossoms of May; and he stood this question, and the speaker was a pale, there with Hetty, his little sister, and her sad-faced woman, whose sunken eyes and laugh, sweet as the mountain brook, was in hollow cheeks at once told you she was an his ears, and her little, round, plump arms invalid. The chamber where she sat was were about his neck. How she did love very poorly furnished, but everything was him, that little sister Hetty, over whose neat. A small fire was burning in the sweet face had grown the grass of so many grate, and a solitary candle on the stand. summers! How proud she was of him! “No, mother; Mr. Minor won't be at And he could see the little golden head home for a week," answered the boy slowly, üancing out of the house every night to meet as though he disliked to communicate the him when he came home from his work. news. He was a slender, delicate-looking
Stephen Dunham's mother was a poor boy, apparently in his twelfth year. widow, and he had his own way to work in "It is my last hope," said the mother, the world. He had risen step by step looking despairingly on the thin hands in his native town, and he saw at last that which lay in her lap. “There is no way to greed of money had taken possession of pay the rent, and the agent said if I wasn't Fim, until every other wish and purpose of ready when he called to-morrow, we must his life had been swallowed up in the pur go into the street. What will become of us, suit of riches.
my poor children? I'd hung on to Mr. He was still a young man when he came Minor's getting back, he was so kind to to the city, but he brought with him the your father before he died; but my last title of “Squire," which he had borne for hope is gone now. I could have earned the three years. He took to himself a wife, the money, if it hadn't been for this sickness, daughter of a rich man, and she brought brought on by steady sewing, but tohin a rich dowry ; but in a few years death morrow we must go into the street.” She had summoned her away, and she had left said the words with great tears slowly no children whose soft, sweet voices, calling chasing themselves down her pale cheeks. him “father," should melt the cold heart “Don't cry, mother; I earned a shilling that know but one love, and that was this afternoon, selling papers, and bought money,
you and Mary each a nice orange," interAll this Squire Dunham thought of as posed the boy, trying to speak in a bright, he sat alone by his table, with the bright hopeful voice. light of the chandeliers gilding the gray And now a small hand was thrust out for head that rested on his hands; and he the fruit, and a little voice said earnestly, thought, rich man that he was, that his “O mother! don't let us feel bad, now money didn't pay; that after all, the great we've got the oranges." object of his life had been, as the man said, At that moment there was a loud rap a“ losing operation ;" and he longed to feel at the chamber door, which startled the that in the wide world there was one human little family ; but Harry was not long in being who would be sorry to hear that he ushering into the room an old gentleman, was dead-one human being, man, woman, who inquired if Mrs. Carpenter resided or child, who would say, "I am happier there. this night because you are on earth."
His glance took in the room and its three And in the midst of want and yearning, occupants, and after taking the seat which a sudden declaration flashed across the 1 Harry Carpenter brought him he said :mind of Squire Dunham. He rose up and "I am Squire Dunham, and I called here walked again to and fro with his hands to say, Mrs. Carpenter, that I would not behind him, and his forehead knit with per press the matter about the rent; that il nlexing thought, and a variety of emotions you could not meet it, you might stay here,
ating over his face. But suddenly he | and I would not trouble you."
A flash of joy went over the three faces, according to their old habits, to a funeral, but the mother broke down into a sob. and meet it on the way to the grave, or to “O sir, God in heaven will bless you for go to a wedding and find it all over, before this !" and they were the sweetest words they thought of getting there. So old which Stephen Dunham had heard for Mr. Slow waited on the minister to ask many a day.
him why he “was always in such a hurry But before he could answer, his gaze was and so afraid of being too late.” attracted to a small, wistful, upturned face “Well, my good friend, I will tell you, in the corner; and its sweet blue eyes, and and if after hearing me, you do not think the golden gleam in its brown hair, were I am about right in this thing, I will try like that face which shone away off in the to alter." morning of his boyhood, the face of his “That's surely fair,” slowly said Mr. sister Hetty.
Slow, as if afraid to commit himself. As his gaze met the little girl's, she rose “When I was a young man, and had up and came toward him.
been preaching only a few months, I was “You won't send mamma, and Harry, invited to go to a distant mountain town, and me, into the street, will you ?” she and preach to a destitute people. I went said, in her sweet, pleasing way; “cause for some weeks, and then returned home we can't live there when the wind blows and for a few days, promising to be back, withthe rain comes, and the great carriages will | out fail, the next Sabbath. Well, I had a go over us; and mamma's sick, and I am | pleasant week among my kind relatives, a little girl, you know; and Harry isn't big and was so much engaged that I hardly enough to do anything but sell papers." thought of my solemn duties, till Saturday
“My child,” said Squire Dunham, “ you returned, and then my sister and a beauti. shall never go into the street !" And his ful friend of hers persuaded me to go out voice was not quite steady, and there was a a little while in the little white boat Cinstrange moisture about his eyes. He took derella, on our beautiful lake. The day the little girl on his knees, and she nestled was fine, and Cinderella spun and darted her bright young head on his shoulder, under my oars as if a thing of life. When chattering away to him, and thinking what we got ashore, I found it two o'clock, and a good, kind man Squire Dunham was! I knew the cars started in fifteen minutes !
The landlord remained some time with I left the ladies, and ran home, and caught his tenants. Many kind words and promises up my carpet-bag, and ran for the depôt. cheered them, for that little head rested I saw that the cars had arrived. I heard softly against his heart, and warmed and the bell ring. With all my strength I ran. gladdened it; and before he left, Squire I saw them start. I redoubled my efforts, Dunham bent down and kissed the little and got within fifteen feet of the cars! Oh, girl, and left two gold pieces in her chubby for thirty seconds more! Thirty seconds hand.
too late! No more! He went home that night a happier man " The next day was a fair, still, sweet than he had been for years, sure that three Sabbath. My mountain people gathering, hearts beat lighter because he was in the coming down from the glens and following world.
the rills, filled the house of worship. But And the lesson that Stephen Dunhamı there was no minister; and the hungry learned that night, going home in the car sheep had no shepherd to feed them! He riage, took -deep root in his heart, and
was thirty seconds too late! brought forth much fruit!
“There was a poor old blind man who lived four miles from the church, and sel
dom could get to meeting. That day he THIRTY SECONDS TOO LATE! ate breakfast early, and his little grand
daughter led him all the way down the THE Rev. Mr. Bell was always punctual. | mountain to the church. How weary and Whoever might be late at meeting, at the sad and disappointed he was! There was funeral, or anywhere else, they all knew no minister to speak to him. He was that Mr. Bell would not. If called to at. thirty seconds too late! tend a wedding, his foot was on the door. "There was a great gathering of children step and his hand on the bell-handle when to the Sabbath-school. And their little the clock was striking the hour. It was, eyes glistened, for their minister had pro. at first, quite annoying to his flock to go, nised to preach them a little sermonto
day! But he was not there. He was “I declare it is," said Frank, in a tone of thirty seconds too late!
real regret. “I thought it was mine. I'm “There was a sick child up one of the sorry; won't you forgive me?" glens of the mountain, and she had been "Yes,” said Milly, slowly picking up the inquiring all the week for her minister. She scattered leaves, and thinking of her verse. was so anxious to see him and have him “Yes, I suppose so," and under her breath pray with her. How she hailed the Sab she added, One.” bath, when he would be there! But no ! Breakfast over, they started for schools he was not there.
together. “Milly," cried Frank suddenly, i “That poor old blind man never came “ here comes a big dog-tongue out, red, to the church again'; he was too feeble ; eyes! Look out for hydrophobia !” Poor and never heard another sermon or prayer.
Milly ran forward in great terror, too frightThe minister was thirty seconds too late! ened to see where she stepped. Down went
“That little girl was dead before I got one foot in a treacherous hole, and the rest back, and I could only shed tears over her of Milly came tumbling after. This was : cold corpse! I had been thirty seconds serious mishap, for the skin was quite rubtoo late!
| bed from one dimpled elbow; and worst of “On my bended knees I asked God's all, one of the morocco shoes, bright as a forgiveness, and promised him, that, if pos
mirror, had a great, white, unsightly graze. sible, I would never be thirty seconds too
Milly burst into tears; not about the elbor, late again!
for she could bear pain like a hero, and she “And now, Mr. Slow, am I not about knew that Nature, with the help of that right in my punctuality ?"
experienced old tailor, Time, would soon “Well, I guess it don't look quite so set in a patch, so nicely joined that she, unreasonable as it might !" — American could never find the seam; but the net Paper.
shoe, that was hopeless!
"O Frank! how could you ?” cried
Milly. “And the dog was only good old “ SEVEN TIMES."
Cato, that wouldn't burt a fly!"
“ Why, Milly, I'm sure I never thoughts FOR THE YOUNG.
you'd fall. I only meant to give you & LITTLE MILLY, who felt very happy sit- | nice little run. It's too bad you're hurt. ting in the sunshine, was anxious to do I'm so sorry : wont you forgive me?" something to please the good God who bad “Yes," said Milly, swallowing a lamp made such a beautiful world. So, as she in her throat ; “I'll try. Two," she sighed learned her verse, “And if thy brother softly to berself. trespass against thee seven times in a day, Ač school, Frank was still very aggr. and seven times in a day turn again to thee, vating, and Milly had great temptation to saying, I repent, thou shalt forgive him," forget her verse. We will pass on to the her gray eyes looked very thoughtful, and time when the school was out, and Mills her small mouth grew firm with some very found, to her great dismay, that there bad important resolution.
been a sudden change in the weather, and Pretty soon, down stairs she came to the the rain was pouring in torrents. Bos dining-room, and found nobody there but chivalrous Frank borrowed an umbrelle, brother Frank, who had two years the start and tucking Milly's plump hand under ha oi her in the race of life, but was not so far arm, started off as valiant as Greatheart ahead as you might suppose. He was look “Look out!".cried Milly. “You swing ing very discontented. “Real mean!” were the umbrella so, that half the time it dripsi the first words that jumped from his mouth; on my head.” though you couldn't have expected any. “A little water won't hurt you, will it?" thing better from such a pout. "Real mean cried careless Frank. But when the to spend such a day as this in school!” and reached home, poor Milly found that the the book he held in his hand was trans- | colouring matter had run from the um. ferred to his foot, and sent spinning in the brella, and long, dirty streams disfigured air, from whence it returned with a broken the cherry lining of her preity hood.. back and two fluttering leaves.
“Well, now, that is too bad,” crie: “O Frank !” cried Milly, “isn't that Frank, observing her blank look of die my arithmetic ? and you know. I was trying ! may. “I declare, ' Dot,' I'd change col", to keep it like a new book.”
| a minute with you, if you would like it.”
Neat little Milly looked at Frank's bat- Poor remorseful Frank offered no oppo. Itered thatching, and mournfully shook her sition, and across the hall she ran, with head.
streaming eyes and burning cheeks, and « Well, Milly, you know I didn't mean stumbling right into Uncle Charley's arms. to; I'm sure you'd forgive me if you know “Hity tity! what's the matter now?" ? how sorry I felt."
But before the words were out of his mouth, “I do forgive you," said Milly, with an Milly was pouring forth her story. effort; and she counted something on her Uncle Charlie looked grave when she fingers. “ Seven," said she to herself, with finished. “And so you think it is right to a great sigh of relief.
be angry now?” " What have you been counting all day, “Yes," said little Milly impetuously ; Milly ? " asked Frank curiously.
“ it is quite right. I've forgiven him seven Milly did not answer ; but as she ran in times. This makes eight.” to dinner, a very self-satisfied smile was on “But didn't you know," said Uncle her face, and she repeated to herself, Charley, “that there is another verse where “ Seven times. Well, I hope God has been Jesus tells Peter not only to forgive his pleased, for it has been very hard ; and I'm | brother seven times, but until seventy times 80 glad it's over, for I don't think I could | seven'?" hold out any longer."
“Seventy times geven!” cried Milly, It rained so hard in the afternoon, that looking quite bewildered. “Oh, I'm sorry Milly and Frank were allowed to stay at I ever began. I shall have to give up try. home and study in the playroom.
ing to please God that way.” “Oh dear," said Frank, with & yawn; “I hope not,” said Uncle Charley. “ before I begin this rule of three which “ But you don't know how hard it is to
puzzles me,' let's have one little tune out of keep forgiving and forgiving," wept Milly. Į that music-box Uncle Charley gave you." "Yes, I think I do," said Uncle Charley,
Milly's eye brightened. She could not smiling. “And I shouldn't wonder if the resist the temptation, and running from the disciples knew it, too,” said he, half to room, she soon returned with the treasure. himself, “when as the command was given, Carefully she put in the little golden key, they cried, with one accord, 'Lord, inand turned it with the greatest caution ; crease our faith. Yes, little Milly," he but mischievous Frank slipped in a little continued aloud, “it certainly is hard, but wooden wedge in the delicate works, and we must always keep trying, and not count when she paused and listened, with smiling the times, either ; for I think seventy lips, and head turned on one side, the won times seven' means that we should always derful box was mute.
forgive. “ What is it?" cried she, turning quite “Oh, I can't do it," sobbed Milly, turnpale.
ing determinedly away from poor Frank, .." Oh," said Frank magnificently,“ don't who stood in the doorway, the image of be alarmed. I'm a great magician. Just despair. let me put my finger in the box one second, "I'll give you my new book of travels, and all will be right."
Milly, and save all my money till I can buy Milly entrusted it to him with trembling you another box," cried Frank, in doleful hands. In went Frank's confident fingers, tones. But Milly would not listen. but they pulled out the wedge a little too “ Very well,” said Uncle Charley, “I roughly. Snap went some delicate spring; I would advise you not to say "Our Father' there was a dreary noise, as if the whole box for a day or two." were going to fly in pieces, and then all was " Why?" said Milly, in great surprise. still. Frank examined the box with a dis “ Why, just think how very sad it would mayed face. “Milly,” said he at length, be to have to pray, “ And forgive us our with an effort, “it's broken--spoiled! Can trespasses as we forgive Frank who has you ever forgive me?”
trespassed against us." “No!” said little Milly, stamping her Milly's cheeks grew burning red. She foot and bursting into vehement tears; “I hesitated a moment, and then crying, “I can't, and I needn't either. It's the eighth can't give up Our Father,'” she ran to the time! My dear, darling music-box! You sorrowful figure in the door, threw her did it on purpose! You're very bad to arms around his neck, and had a “ good me! I'll run right to your room, and tear cry" on the left pocket of his brown your kite, and spoil everything I can find !" | roundabout.
Good-hearted, blundering Frank has you would see his honest eyes fill with grown much more tender and careful of , affectionate tears, as he answers softly, his little sister since then; and as for her, “ Milly is too good to count, and I don't if you should ask Frank, “ How often does dare to; but I'm quite sure till • seventy Milly forgive now? 'till seven times ?'” ! times seven,"is
Gems from Golden Mines.
THE USES OF TROUBLE. powder, in the midst of whizzing bullets
and roaring cannonades—not in soft and THERE is a little plant, small and stunted,
peaceful times. Well, Christian, may not growing under the shade of a broad spread
this account for it all? Is not thy Lord ing oak; and this little plant values the
bringing out thy graces and making them shade which covers it, and greatly does it
grow ?-C. H. Spurgeon. esteem the quiet rest which its noble friend affords. But a blessing is designed for this little plant. Once upon a time there comes along the
BEYOND THE RIVER. woodman, and with his sharp axe he fells | TIME is a river, deep and wide ; the oak. The plant weeps, and cries, “ My And while along its banks we stray, shelter is departed ; every rough wind will We see our loved ones o'er its tide blow upon me, and every storm will seek to Sail from our sight away-away. uproot me!"
Where are they sped-they who return “No, no," saith the angel of that flower; No more to glad our longing eyes ? “now will the sun get at thee ; now will They've passed from life's contracted bourn the shower fall on thee in more copious | To land unseen, unknown, that lies abundance than before ; now thy stupted i
Beyond the river. form shall spring up into loveliness, and
'Tis hid from view, but we may guess thy flower, which could never have expan.
How beautiful that land must be, ded itself to perfection, shall now laugh in the sunshine, and men shall say, How
For gleamings of its loveliness,
In visions granted, oft we see ; greatly hath that plant increased! how
The very clouds that o'er it throw glorious hath become its beauty through
Their veil, unraised for mortal sight, the removal of that which was its shade
With gold and purple tintings glow, and its delight!"
Reflected from the glorious light See you not, then, that God may take away your comforts and your privileges
Beyond the river. to make you the better Christians ? Why,
And gentle aira-80 sweet, 80 calmthe Lord always trains his soldiers, not
Steal sometimes from that viewless sphere; by letting them lie on feather beds, but | The mourner feels their breath of balm, by turning them out, and using them to
And soothed sorrow dries the tear; forced marches and hard service. He
And sometimes listening ear may gain makes them ford through streams, and
Entrancing sound that hither floats, swim through rivers, and climb mountains,
The echo of a distant strain, and walk many a long march with heavy ! Of harps' and voices' blended notes knapsacks of sorrow on their backs. This
Beyond the river. is the way in which he makes soldiers There are our loved ones in their rest. not by dressing them up in fine uniforms, They've crossed Time's river: now no more to swagger at the barrack gates, and to be They heed the bubbles on its breast, fine gentlemen in the eyes of the loungers Nor feel the storms that sweep its shore. in the Park. God knows that soldiers are But “there" pure love can live, can last : only to be made in battle; they are not to They look for us their home to share be grown in peaceful times. We may grow When we, in turn, away have passed. the stuff of which soldiers are made, but What joyful greetings wait us there, warriors are really educated by the smell of
Beyond the river !