PS ^hfii ■ ro ojuo .R8475 T8 1921 UI TWILIGHT MEMORIES Class "PfaSiJs Copyright^ ^ CQEffilGHT DEPOSIT. MRS. S. J. BROWNE TWILIGHT MEMORIES Written by ! MRS. S* J. BROWNE I 1921 ^5° 3 .-fisvi*'* il* 1 Copyrighted 1921 MRS. S. J. BROWNE Unity, Pa. DEC -I 1921 §)C!.A630563 ^TWILIGHT MEMORIES r FOREWORD Dear children, since as teachers and scholars, neighbors and friends, we have so often met in the Past to the benefit of all, my heart longs to leave with you something that at times may call forth a kindly thought after my work is done and Christ has called me Home. With this end in view, I bring to you Twilight Memories, — therein I have given you my best thoughts, and I have tried to gather from many sources the purest and best from other minds. Read this book, and as you read, open the door of your heart and let the light of God shine in, and bless your daily life. In all your ways acknow- edge Him, and He will direct your path. TWILIGHT MEMORIES To my dear young- friend Irene, I dedicate this book. But for her kind help and sweet encourage- ment, Twilight Memories had never seen the light of day. May God's richest blessings crown her life. TWILIGHT MEMORIES CRITERION. Standing in an open doorway, I heard a young girl, in speaking of a friend, say, I know of no one that I would as soon take for my criterion as she. Children, that thought struck deeply into my heart, and I thought what a glorious world this would be if each dear child in every home could have God- fearing parents, and would take their praying mother for their criterion and leader. Blessed, thrice blessed, are the children whose early years of life are spent with God-fearing par- ents. A child may tire of repeated instructions, and in their innocence may think that mothers make too much of God's laws and of obedience and honor, too much of asking God's help in ordinary things of life. But children, a praying mother knows the way to Christ in times of trouble, and one of the most blessed memories of your life will be to know that at every trying hour of your life your praying mother is first, first in your behalf at the throne of grace, laying you, her child, her treasure, on the altar of her love, giving you to Christ and pleading His prom- ise, that if you obey His laws, He will save you by His power. Well does a praying mother know that if she will train up a child in the way he should go that when he is old it will not depart from it. A praying mother knows that He shall feed His flock like a shepherd. He shall gather the lambs in His arms and carry them in His bosom. A praying mother knows that the Lord is her light and her salvation. Whom shall she fear, the Lord is the strength of her life. Of whom shall she be afraid? It is sweet to hear a good mother say, He is my Rock. His work is perfect. For all His ways are judgment. A God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is He. How well a praying mother knows that like as a father pitieth his chil- TWILIGHT MEMORIES dren, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him. He knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are but dust. No one better than a mother knows that God is a father to the fatherless, a judge of the widows is God in His holy habitation. For Thou God art good and ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy to all them that call upon Thee. In the day of my trouble, I will call upon thee, for thou wilt answer me. A GIFT OF CARDS AND FLOWERS. Dear Friend: I cannot tell you how glad I was to receive from you the fine donation of flowers and cards, — of all things these dear little messages of love that we can give to the sick children, cards and flowers are among the best. Ah, dear friend, if you jcould stand with me at the side of those many cots on which lay the suffering little ones and see, in spite of the pain, how their eyes brighten and their poor little hearts are made glad at the sight of cards or flowers, or anything that is given to them (all for their very own), I am sure, dear, it would do you good and make you thank God that He called you to help in so good a cause. At the risk of making you weary, dear, I want to tell you something of which I had the pleasure to take part in not so long ago. Nine little girls, with an older woman to guide them, sent flowers to the Hospitals, and, one day, they conceived this idea, that they would put the flowers up in small bunches and send them to Miss , a nurse I knew well, and ask her to lay a bunch of flowers on the pillow of each child in the early morning. We had sent thirty-six small bunches to cheer the hearts, at least for a time, of thirty-six suffering children. I think I can see the dear ones as they each would find their own. The dear little children, — they have their TWILIGHT MEMORIES share of life's ills, and it is a poor specimen of womanhood that will not be kind to them. I think I must tell you, too, of the letters that were sent to be read to those nine little girls, — personal letters that I am sure would do good, for they will prove an incentive for future deeds and greater service. I thank you, dear, for the very kind invitation you sent me to visit you, and I will try to spend some time with you in the near future ; and when I come, I will go with you to see the sick children, for oh, I love the children. For in them you can see The truth, the love, the honor, Of good lives soon to be. Lovingly, Mrs. S. J. Brown A STORY OF THE FLOWERS. Talking of sowing seed, children bring to my mind the memory of one day of seed sowing in my childhood which will never be effaced. It was on a Sabbath afternoon. Father took the four little girls for a walk. Going in a different di- rection from that in which we usually went, we passed a fine big house with a wide well-kept lawn in front of it. That did not attract our attention, but as we came to the side, we saw a garden. What a beautiful sight! Flowers, flowers everywhere. I never saw so many, and oh, I could not leave them. Those big white ones. Oh, how sweet. I did not want to walk, but to look, and taking hold of the fence, I proceeded to feast my eyes on beauty. Pres- ently I heard my father say, "Come child, don't stand there staring. The lady will not like it." But I was entranced. I did not want to go. "Please, father, let me stay. You can take the girls to walk, but let me stay here and look." Just then the lady came down and said, "What is wrong? Is someone TWILIGHT MEMORIES hurt?" "No," said father, "My little maid has lost her heart to your flowers, and doesn't want to leave them." "Oh, I am glad if that is it. Come up to the entrance, all of you, and come in." "No, thank you," said father, "we will not trouble you." But the lady would have her way, and kept up the pleading. "Do please, father, go in. I want to touch those big white ones, the lillies." I do not know what came over me that day. I forgot to be obedient to my father, and forgot I was with a stranger. I forgot everything except those glorious flowers. I tell you, children, that on that day and in that hour, the love of flowers and the love of beauty, and I do believe the love of God who could make such glorious things, was implanted in my childish heart, never to be effaced. Making a bee-line for the white flowers, I was content. The rest might wander all around the garden if they chose, but not I. I wanted to stay and see those beauties and drink in their glorious sweet- ness. I was standing feasting all my childish senses on the beauty around me, when I heard the lady say, "Little girl, stand very still, and you will see some- thing else that is pretty." As she spoke, there came to the little bed a dear little Humming Bird, pretty indeed. It flitted for a time from flower to flower. It paused for an instant over a big white flower, and, holding itself still by some magic, it proceeded to enter deep into the heart of a lily. That was too much for me, and I cried out, "Oh, it will hurt the flower. Take it away !" The charm was broken, and the bird flew away. Father and my sisters came up, and father said, " Now, little flock, we must go home." As I turned to obey, the lady took me by the hand and said, "No, not yet." "William," she called, "take these children and their father down to the summer-house, and give them some pears." Still another pleasure for us on that happy day! Of course, we all enjoyed the pears, and not the pears 8 TWILIGHT MEMORIES only, for the lady brought us a huge plate of ginger- bread. Such a treat! We children were in our glory. But father kept saying, "We must go." And at last we did start up through the garden. As we came to the lily bed, I saw, to my childish amaze- ment, that many of the dear flowers were gone! I hid my head against the lady's dress and cried for the loss of the sweet flowers. I knew not then, dear ones, but I know now, that the sweetest flower in that garden was the lady herself. As she put her arms around me and said, "Come, child, don't cry. I will find the lillies. Don't cry," she stooped and kissed my face, wet with tears though it was. I fear my father was ashamed of me that day, but I was carried away by my enthusiasm, and could not contain myself. Once again we started home, and as we came to the entrance, we were met by William with a big bunch of flowers of all colors. There was a big bunch for each of the three girls and one for Father. But, oh joy, I was the happy one. There stood the dear lady with so many big white lillies that I feared I could not carry them home. Father said, "You carry mine, dear, and I will take yours. You have so many." I kissed the dear lillies and said, "Don't hurt them, please." (You might laugh at that, but as this is a true story, I will tell it in truth.) We now had but one thought — to share our treasures with our dear mother. We gave a cordial invitation to our new-found friend to come and visit us, to let our invalid mother give her meed of thanks for the happiness given to her little flock. Dear mother, we did not know that there had been seed sown in the heart of that blessed lovely woman that day that would spring up and make her be to my mother a blessing, a comfort and a friend in all her days of pain and sickness, and even after my mother's death, that dear woman was to us all a comfort, a dear friend, and a blessing. TWILIGHT MEMORIES A LETTER TO THE CLASS. Dear Ones : I long to come to you again. I did so enjoy your sweet confidences, and then too, I like the heart garden work that we have set ourselves. Yes, May, you are right — there was indeed some seed sown the day we took the walk, and now as there are five in this flock as there were in the one that settled for a time in that garden, suppose each one tells what seed was sown and in whose garden, and by whom. Now, dear ones, I cannot come to you for one week, and I tell you what let us do. Each one write out their own thoughts and ideas on that pleasure trip. I wish, girls, we could interest some of your neighbor's children in this project of ours, and we might then help to keep them from throwing stones and fighting, so you see, children, there is room in all our hearts for much good seed, but we would have to plant our seed with care and fervent prayer, and then wait for the God of the harvest to give the increase, but we can each one do what we know to be right, and our Leader will keep us in the right path, so let us take him for our guide. In early youth give God your heart And plant the precious seed Of love and kindness, truth and right, As you find life hath need. Then, at life's close the blessed star Of Bethlehem will shine Into your heart, and Christ will lead You home by right divine. A CROWN OF LIFE. Come children, I told you I would tell you a story if you were good. Let us go to your mother and see about it. May I have the girls for a short 10 TWILIGHT MEMORIES time ? They want a story told them for being good. Yes, you may tell them a story if you want to, but I tell you you are only wasting your time. Your stor- ies will soon grow old and the young ones will just be as bad as ever. I tell you I am sick of it all. I am tired of living. You don't know what I have to put up with. How could you? Children dear, let us not tell our story until after supper. Run out now, and be good. Poor tired mother, I did not know that you were discouraged. What can I do to help you ? Nothing, I don't want any one to help me. I tell you this work is never done. It is too much for any woman, and as I said before, I am sick of it. What is life anyway? Poor weary heart, don't think like that. What is in your life ? Let us see, God has blessed you with good health, good friends, a pleasant home, a good kind husband, and five young ones, did you say ? Yes, young they may be, those dear little heavenly bless- ings. But mother, are they not worthy to be called by the name God gave them — children ? Think you, dear mother, these bright, beautiful flowers growing up in your pathway, wafting the sweet fragrance of childish love and incense to you at every breath. Think you God asks too much of you when He says, Persevere to the end, and I will give you a crown of life. A crown of life, for what ? For this, my friend, for the good seed you are sowing in the hearts of your children, for all the sweet lessons you can teach them, and only a mother can teach; for all your daily labors, for all your sleepless nights, God pays you for it all. God is no one's debtor. He has said to each of us. Do your duty, and I will do mine. If you will live a Christian life, give God your heart and sow the seeds of righteous- ness and persevere to the end, He will give you a crown of life. Is it not worth living for? Surely, my friend, but if we will not, and will persist in sow- 11 TWILIGHT MEMORIES ing the seeds of death around us, what can we hope for, but our own undoing? We are all sowers of seed and sow we must for good or ill. We can choose the kind of seed we wish to sow, but we must know this, that the harvest we shall reap is an eternal one. Oh, friend, let us heed our God when He says, Choose you this day whom ye will serve, and believe Him also when He says, Persevere to the end and I will give you a crown of life. A VISIT. Well, good morning, dear ones, here I am again. Your mother wrote to me and gave me such a sweet kind invitation to come that I could not resist. Shall I tell you what she said ? Well, this in part: "Dear friend, I think I, too, will take to telling stories like you, for indeed, the children are not nearly as unruly as they were before you tame. So do come again, and tell all the stories you want to. Never again will I think it time wasted. Come on Monday for sure." Was not that sweet of her? But girls, let me tell you, it was not the stories that made you better, and if not them, what was it? I should like to know, would not you ? Well, let us make a bargain. I will tell you a story — one today, one tomorrow, and one on the next day, and on the fourth day, Thursday, each one of us will tell what we think made the change for the better. Is that a bargain? Don't say yes unless you mean it, for our word is one of the most precious things we own. If our word is not good, then we are not good. So let us always tell the truth, defend the truth and live the truth. Show me Thy ways, O Lord, teach me Thy paths, lead me in Thy truth, and teach me the Bible. 12 TWILIGHT MEMORIES CLASS NUMBER 7. I believe this lesson was to be on the gathering and sowing of seed. Are we ready? May, you are first. Yes child, you are right. There were many seeds sown that day that took root and grew in the heart-garden of those children. Tell us, May, who you think sowed the first seed in that garden? I think that father who took the children walking sowed some good seed, even before he went into the garden. See how kind and patient he was. When the little girl ran up the steps to look at the flowers, he did not yell at her and say, Come on, I tell you, or say, Next time you will stay at home, as many fathers would have done. He came back and spoke kindly to the child and called her his little maid. He was so nice, I liked him. I think he had seed of gentleness in his heart and was planting it deep in the hearts of his children. You are right, May. Gentle living is a bright flower that gladdens every life it touches and blessed are they that sow that precious seed. Next. I may not have the right ideas, but I do think that little bird sowed some good seed. If it were only a humming-bird, it had been in the garden and had gone from one flower to an- other and tried them all, and he found that if he would go straight to the lily-bed he would get more pure food from one big fountain in a lily heart than by flitting from flower to flower, so I think the dear bird sowed the seed of contentment, don't you ? Yes, dear child, the bird made it plain to us that we, hav- ing found the fountain of life-giving waters, we should therewith be content. We know that our Guide-book tells us that Godliness with contentment is great gain. Jean, you are next. Did not the lady's husband gather some good ripe seeds of patience while he waited on all that flock of children, and his two friends had to stand and wait, for he had said 13 TWILIGHT MEMORIES he would go with them to see the new canal-bed. He just waited as pleasant as could be, and I think he gathered lots of seeds of patience. Yes, dear girl, you are teaching your teacher, now. I should not have thought of the men. But this we know, there is not one of us can live a good or happy life unless we learn to sow the seed of patience in our own lives, and in the lives of our friends. Let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. Let us all grow a big crop of patience, as it is one of God's best gifts to us all. Well, are you ready. Come dear, don't be backward. Pure thoughts need never make you hesitate to ex- press them. Read your paper. This is only a lesson in thinking. You know I thought of the flowers themselves. I never thought about it before, but those flowers that day were busy sowing the seed of God's love and care. We look from nature up to nature, God, and stand in awe before His power. I think the flowers sow seeds of God's love in every heart. Yes dear ones, as long as the love of God fills our hearts, we will be happy in doing His will and planting seed for our eternal harvest. I will take the lady for my seed sower, that day I think her heart was like her garden, overflowing with seeds of love, kindness, mercy, generosity, obedience to her Father's command. For freely she received and gladly of her abundance she freely gave. May we all profit by our seed gathering and sowing. GATHERING SEED. Well, dear ones, since we have been so success- ful in finding seed, let us get to work and plant all kinds of good seeds in our hearts, and in the hearts of all around us. We all know this fact, that we must serve one of two. Master, we cannot stand and look idly on while others around us are sowing 14 TWILIGHT MEMORIES for a future harvest. Choose you this day whom you will serve, and let us all remember that for all our thoughts and actions, we must give to God our Judge a strict account. TO A FRIEND. Dear Friend, happy mother, I was rejoiced to receive your letter, and dear, such a letter ; it spoke so eloquently of that love that you and I talked about, the love of God for weary souls. You say, dear, that you feel like a new creature. Thank God, my dear friend, you are indeed now being renewed in the spirit of your mind, all old heartaches, all dis- content, all bitter memories have been drowned in the deep water of love that has filled your soul to overflowing, and do you see where that overflow of love has already formed a channel straight into the heart of your children? It was not our stories, dear, that had an influence on the children for good. It was the overflow of the love wherewith God has filled your own soul. That is made plain from the fact that Loula, your eldest girl, wants to join the church. I am so glad to hear that, but you say dear, your mother is not willing, says the child is too young. Be that as it may. This I know, that as soon as I began to think about living and dying, I became anxious. I thought of how my mother had prayed that we might all be early awakened and each one be brought in young days to seek Christ, to join the church and live a clean Christian life. How I did want my mother then. I was not quite twelve years of age, and dear, the very thing you speak of was my trouble. I was told to stop thinking of such things, as I could not know my own mind, stop such thinking ! How could I stop. I could not stop, know- ing that I was in danger of dying any day, and how could I stop thinking of the hereafter. Oh, the 15 TWILIGHT MEMORIES agony of those days, and nights. I was not too young to fear death, not too young to know that I wanted to have God's love save me. And dear friend, in that dark hour, I was not too young to see the light of Christ, when he came to give me a new life and fill me with love for Him. And this too, let me say, my friend, I was not too young to hold on to that glorious gift that was then given me, when Christ spoke peace to my childish soul and filled me so full of love that my heart has always been over- flowing, full of pity and love for all children. Many times I have had it told me that I was foolish to love children so, but herein you find my reason. Freely you have received, freely give. My letter grows long, dear. I will only speak whereof I know, when I say, Pray to your Father for the child, and I know, too, that a mother never comes into her fullness of life until she can take all that she loves on earth and puts and keeps all in the dear Father's care by constant, fervent belief in prayer. My letter grows, but I know what has passed in my own life, and to live is to know. Dear, you will be always safe, when you are not sure of the right, if then you will kneel at your Father's throne and ask Him for wisdom. You will always receive an answer. Pray for your daughter, and God's word stands unbroken, that He will lead her safely and surely by His spirit. Dear, you ask me to write your mother a letter. I will if you think it wise. She does not understand my motives, and therefore does not have faith in my actions, but I will write her and trust God for the power to influence her heart. Do you know that a mother never comes into her own until she stands just where you stand today, a Christian yourself, and praying earnestly and be- lieving for each loved one. Ask, and ye shall receive. Seek, and ye shall find. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 16 BOB, OUR WILLING WORKER. TWILIGHT MEMORIES CHARLES DICKENS. The early life of Charles Dickens was one of drudgery. His father was thrown into prison for debt, and for a while his family went to keep him company. Charles afterward said: "If it had not been for the mercy of God he might have been a robber or a vagabond." William Lloyd Garrison, "The Apostle of Eman- cipation," at three years of age, faced the direst poverty. His devoted mother earned a livelihood for herself and children by going from home to home nursing the sick wherever needed. On days of public gatherings Lloyd aided her, as best he could by sell- ing sticks of molasses candy which his mother had made. Rodney ("Gypsy") Smith's father was a maker of baskets, clothespins and tinware ; and it frequent- ly devolved upon young Rodney to go out and sell his father's wares wherever he could. The lad was converted and became one of the world's most suc- cessful evangelists. An English daily pronounced him "One of the finest exponents of the possibilities of the Anglo-Saxon speech since the days of John Bright". James A. Garfield, the 20th President of the United States, was born in a log cabin. A few months later his father died, leaving the widow in poverty. His mother put in crops, split rails, put up fences, and for a time lived on but one meal a day to save food for her boys. The future president, at four years of age, was carried to school on the back of his sister. Daniel Webster was pitifully weak when a lad and his friends said he could not live. Hardship and privation were two of his lowly stepping stones to greatness. At a country store he bought a handker- chief on which the Constitution of the United States was printed, the reading of which helped direct his ambition to the service of his country. His reply to Hayne made him immortal. D. R. M. 17 TWILIGHT MEMORIES A TRIP UP PIKE'S PEAK. When we arrived in Colorado, naturally the first thing- we wanted to see was Pike's Peak, and after seeing it, to go to its summit. So one morning early in September, we started to prepare for our journey. First father hired a guides — Ezekiel Bateman, by name, and he, in turn hired two sturdy little donkeys for us to ride. I really hadn't feared, or even thought much about this trip, until we came to the foot of the mountain, from where we were to start. Then as I surveyed that towering mass of rock and earth, with its narrow, winding path, and over- hanging ledges, and looked at those donkeys, who were to take us, I wished heartily that we weren't going. For I had never seen anything before look so frail, little, or insignificant, as those three don- keys did, standing there with drooping heads, wait- ing for us to mount. The donkey I was to ride, was a dull gray, with large, floppy ears, and eyes absolutely void of ex- pression. He seemed even smaller to me than the other two, but the guide declared he was one of the most sure-footed beasts in the valley. At last we started, the guide going first, myself next; and father last. Before starting, however, Bateman helped me mount, and then said all I should do was hold on tight, but not try to guide the donkey. He need not have told me to hold on, as I in- tended to do that, and gripped the reins with both hands. As we mounted higher, father and Bateman, kept talking back and forth, discussing the scenery, and different points of interest along the way, but I was too busy holding on to look at anything. Every time the donkey stepped on a stone, or 18 TWILIGHT MEMORIES swerved the least bit, I thought he was surely going to fall. When we had ascended about a thousand feet, the path became narrower, and as we turned a sharp bend, what was our amazement and chagrin, to see a large stone blocking our way, it looked like an immense boulder to me. The path here was not more than two feet wide, with an absolutely unscalable cliff on one side, and a sheer drop of a thousand feet on the other. Even the guide looked serious, but as we sat there, not daring to move, Bateman thought of a plan. He carefully slid from his donkey, and with one foot on the ground, the other suspended in mid-air, and with one hand gripping the reins, he pushed with all his strength on the rock, and finally with a dead- ening crash, it fell over the precipice. After this experience, we proceeded a little more carefully. However, I soon found out, that the don- key hadn't the least intention of falling, and I began to look around. The view was beautiful. Far below us I could see a tiny hamlet, nestling among the hills. The houses seemed little larger than doll-houses, and the people were indistinguishable. I remembered having seen a good sized stream running through there, but from this great distance it looked like a silvery thread winding in and out. The top and bottom of the mountain opposite us, presented a striking contrast. The top was cov- ered with ice and snow, while at the foot, the trees were covered with bright autumn leaves. We mounted higher and higher, and at last reached the summit of the peak. I was very tired by this time, but as father and I stood there on top of the mountain, and surveyed the magnificent scene before us, we both agreed it was well worth all our hardships. — Marian V. Elder. 19 TWILIGHT MEMORIES MABEL'S LESSON. Well, children, another story is due you as a class, so I want to tell you about little Mabel. You have not forgotten her I know. Well, after the sad experience, the dear Lord saw fit to have her trans- planted in a town some distance away from where she endured so much, into the home and hearts of a dear old couple who were quite wealthy, but child- less. The new Uncle and Aunt, as she was told to call them, loved the child and the little girl was so happy she would say, I am going to always be good and stay here, for this is a part of my mother's heaven. Her love for her new friends knew no bounds. She would not do or say aught that she thought would offend, but how easily we fall. The story of her childish prank was this. Someone gave the child some red and white paper, such as cotton was wrapped in, and sitting out under the big maple tree with her play, the thought came to her, Oh, I will have some fun, I will fool Aunt Julia, so for her to think was to do, and she at once proceeded to cut and make (as she was fond of doing) small red and white roses, quite small flowers of the rose family, and taking some wire from an old broom, she made each one so that it would stand upright if stuck in the ground. The child was happy in her play, and no thought of wrong-doing assailed her. She went to bed happy in the thought of the fun she would have in seeing Aunt Julia surprised, for well she knew that each day those budding bushes were watched for the first full bloom flowers. Rising be- times in the morning, she walked across the wide lawn, and went to the tiny rose bushes she had seen her Aunt Julia examine each day, and there she planted her wires so that the blooms could be seen from the dining room window. Breakfast over at last, and yet no move was made. Aunt Julia and her 20 TWILIGHT MEMORIES three visitors sat talking until the sweet notes of a robin rang out as he sang his good morning praise in the big tree. Aunt Julia must needs see the bird, and coming to the window, her eye at once caught sight of her roses. Across the room she sped, and calling to her visitors to come, the dear old lady came down the steps and cut through the wet grass to see her treasures. She being in the lead, arrived first, and stooping down to admire, she saw at once she had been sold. She stood and waited until the others came up. Girls, what do you think that poor child felt like. She met her Aunt at the door, and begged her forgiveness with tears. She thought of course, she would be sent back to those dreadful people, and her first thought was — I did not ask God to help me to be good and now I will have to go away, and I will never get to go to school. Poor child, the height of earthly ambition was to go to school, and now, poor little girl, what a price to pay for her fun. Aunt Julia laid her hand upon the child's head, and quietly said, And you would do that to me, to me who loved you so? and stooping she kissed the child, and said, Come to my room at ten. I will take you up town. The cry of the poor child was, Why did I do it, Oh, I was going to be so good, and now, poor child. Promptly at ten, she wrapped at her aunt's door, and was told to get a market basket, — the delight of her life had been to go to market, and now this would be the last time. Why did she do it? After going to all the usual places, the basket was sent home by a boy. Her aunt slipped into a drug store and said to the clerk, Do you have colored paper for sale here, I do not know what you call them. And as he set a large box on the counter, filled with all colors of tissues, Aunt Julia said, I will give you something to play with, dear. Poor Mabel. Now indeed her heart was broken, and throwing herself into Aunt Julia's arms, she cried, Oh, don't send me away, I don't want anything, only to stay with you and love 21 TWILIGHT MEMORIES you. Don't send me away, only let me stay with you and love you and go to school, and I will try so hard to be good. Oh Aunt Julia, if you send me away, I will never get to go to school, and I do want to learn to be a good woman like you. Oh, I could never never be good away from you, and I will ask God every morning and night to make be just what I should be, to make you glad. You won't send me away, will you Auntie ? My child, what put that into your head ? I had no thought of sending you away. I love you dear. Come let us go home, and forgetting all about the bright papers offered her, forgetting all, only that she was still to have her home in this earthly paradise, she resolved that she would strive to be worthy of the wondrous gift of love that had been given her. You see girls, that child had been through the fires of misfortune, unkind treatment and unjust punishment had been her life for three years, and now to receive such love and forgiveness and such a home, it was small wonder she went home with Aunt Julia a happy child. Well, as these are true stories, I must tell you that that same evening Mabel was called into her aunt's room, there to receive a gift of a whole box of flower-making material that was the delight of her heart for years. And girls, let me say this, the blessed memories of that home of love and mercy were the mainspring of that child's future happy life. Dear ones, let love rule your hearts as it rules God's heaven, and you will be happy in God's love. LEST WE FORGET. I will stand upon my watch and set me upon the tower, and I will watch to see what he shall say to me, and what I shall answer when I am reproved. —