Mrs. R. p. Mee;ks. HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. MRS. R. P. MEEKS. " Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever." — Tennyson. Nashville, Tenn.: McQuiDDY Printing Company. 1902. /l ^^-f^ TtTf.\t1s«A»IY Of CONGRESS, Two Cowee Reoevit AUG. 9 1902 Corw^loMT ftrmv CU^, u|._i fox. 0UAS9 1^ XXo. NO. coi»r a. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1902, Bv Mrs. R. p. Meeks, In the Office of the Ubrarian of Congress, at Washington. PREFACE. Many times have I watched the differently tinted (jlouds as, on airy wings, they gently floated across the summer sky. I have studied their nature, have wondered at their construction, and have almost wished they could be more durable. I have tried in a feeble way to arrange them in permanent fo^rm, as nearly as possible. I have painted them on canvas, as overhanging and giving tint to trees, houses, mountains, and seas ; I have painted them en- circling the rising sun, then overshadowing " the sunset's radiant glow ; " I have painted the monstrous thunderheads, the dismal storm cloudy the snow cloud, the giltredged cloud, and the one with a silvery lining. Some of these paintings hang on the walls of our " home, sweet home; " so we can at any moment look at them and be somewhat reminded of the real objects, with their many forms and tints. In my quiet, serious moments, reflections drift into my mind like the many-tinted clouds, then chase each other a little while and sink beneath the horizon of thought ]N"ow and then I catch one and make a pencil drawing of it or place it in a blank book or in the columns of a local period- ical. Friends have repeatedly asked me to gather up and arrange in book form some of the thoughts I have thus preserved, but I have timidly shrunk from the task. It seemed presumptuous for me — little me — to undertake (iii) iv Prbfack. such a thing, especially since " of making many books there is no end." But I began to reason, thus : Every one desires to leave specimeois of his or her labor as keepsakes or me- mentos for the loved ones left on the shores of time; then why should it seem more presumptuous for me to leave a collection of my musings than quilts I have made, pictures I have painted, and other works of my hands I hope to leave ? So, while standing on the first rounds of the twen- tieth century, I have made the att.empt. Then what name shall the little volume bear ? '' Scat- tered Thoughts at Random Strung " is the most appropri- ate title I know, for the book is principally the result of odd moments and offhand efforts ; but as the length of this title might discourage the reader, I shall select a shorter one — " Heaethstone Echoes." This will also be appro- priate, as most of the articles have been written by the fire- side, and are, to a great extent, echoes of the heart's emo- tions. With few exceptions, no attention will be given to the date of the composition of these articles or the circum- stances suggesting them ; so they will, indeed, be " scattered thoughts at random strung." The reader will doubtless observe that in some of the ar- ticles the " figures " are slightly overdrawn for the sake of emphasizing the thought It is not the purpose of the book to follow any beaten path of science or to attempt an intellectual display. It will le^ve large words for philosophic minds ; it will leave the beautiful fiowers of language to be plucked by those whose Pre;fac^. V literary stature is sufficieiit to reach them. Its objects are : To try, in a meeik, unassumiiig way, to lift the veil of melan choly from the heartsi of some who have grown weary and heavy-hearted pondering over the mysterious clouds of our existence, and to assist them, in banishing the clouds and finding the golden sunshine; to aid in the proper education of the heart;; to lift some wayward youth out of the quick- sands of temptation and vice ; and to point the discouraged mind to the contemplation of a higher, holier life in that world without a clond. Let such be its echo; then God speed its humble mission) ! Mollie L. Meeks. LIST OF PORTRAITS Mrs. J. H. Meeks "What is Home without a Mother?" '''^ Gen. John H. Meeks "Our Father" >^"" R. P. Meeks " Fifty Years Ago " < Georgb I<. Mbkks " The Severed lyink " ^' Mr. AND Mits. W. H. Baldy " "Wedding Bells " John H, Meeks "WhoseBoy?" " GxANDMAMMA lyARiMORK " " Grandmatama U (vi) CONTENTS. I^ife's Echo i Weaving 3 Chasing Bubbles 7 The Great Mirror i4 The "Lost Schoolhouse " i8 The Old Persimmon Tree 24 Mrs. Smith's Chip Basket 3° Unequally Yoked 37 Shattered Roses 80 How to Be Miserable 84 Forest Jewels 9^ Life— What Is It? 92 Filling the Grave 101 Pay Day io5 The Proof Sheet 108 How Are You Building? m *' Electric Tip ;" or, A Comical Namesake I44 Small Subjects I49 The "Thumb Paper" 149 Woman's Influence 155 " The Baby " 165 Dixie Whispers 166 Thistle Down 188 " The World Owes Me a Living " 192 '• Grippe Rigors " 202 A Charm String 203 Danger Signals 206 The Mirage 219 " Watch— Be Ready " 225 Secret Fire : 229 Memorials 235 A Tribute of Love 240 Crush that Serpent's Head! 247 A Broken Chain 263 An Upward Glance 266 (vii) viii Contents. What Jimmie Gave 269 Are You a Slave ? 270 Living in the Long Ago 285 Living in the " Yet-to-Be " 291 Shadows on the Wall 297 Let Him Talk 301 The Old Woolen Scarf 302 The Mote Finder 303 ' ' Preach the Word " 305 "Jack at all Trades " 305 Unfortunate " R " 306 Fortunate " R" 311 Echoes from Mammoth Cave 318 HOME CORNER. " What is Home without a Mother? " 343 "Our Father " 347 OUR OWN FIRESIDE. Fifty Years Ago 350 Birthday Meditations 353 Yes, We Miss You at Home 359 The Severed Link 360 Wedding Bells 366 Who'll Be Next? 369 The Family Wheel 370 Whose Boy ? 372 Birthday Letter 381 " Grandmamma " 384 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. LIFE'S ECHO. " None of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself." EiPPLEs quiver on the surface of the lake long after the stone has reached its bed of earth. Speak aloud while sail- ing on the placid bosom of Echo E-iver^ and, though three hundred and fifty feet beneath earth's rugged crust, the myriads of crevices and " clifflete " of the gray limestone walls take up the sound and toss it, like a plaything, back and forth, back and forth, until its vibrations and reverber- ations fill the immense cavern hall, then die away in the dark distance. Every life has its echo — its influence. The character of this echo, its extent, and its number of repetitions depend upon the surroundings and the force which produced it. It can be made sweet and soothing, or it can be caused to harshly grate on every ear tuned to the melody and harmony of life. The lives of both good men and wicked men re- mind us of this ; the echoes of both will be heard long after the forces that propelled them shall have ceased to bei. The first transgression ; the first brother murderer ; the fatal look- ing back at Sodom's flames ; the mistake of "Jeroboam, . . . who made Israel to sin " — all these and many others send (i) 2 Hearthstone; Echoes. harsh echoes down time's rushing river. These echoes, how- ever, are to a great extent overpowered by thrilling vibrations from the lives of righteous Abel, O'bedient Noah, faithful Abraham, and meek and lowly Moses. Resting here, faith enables us to see the life of the peerless One, whose echo rises in the first centiury, growii^ louder and loudeo", until peal after peal it resounds along the ages, and will never cease until blended with the music that will " make the uni- verse vocal with praisa" Echo speiaks without a tongue, yet its voice is heard the world around. Church and college buildings are echoes of the heart's warm impulses ; so' are the various reformations, Buch as the great proliibition movement. We trust that such echoes will continue to roll along the corridors of time, becoming louder and extending farther while the ages come and gO'. We are too much inclined to let our lives be nothing hut echoes — to only repeat what others have said, instead of having thoughts of our own ; to live off of the labors of oth- ers, instead of working for ourselves. The world is a great whispering gallery, from which are often echoed our very tones; then how essential that our accents be gentle and kind ! If we speak harshly to it, we may expect a harsh reply ; if we treat it with silent indif- ference, it will doubtless treat us in a like manner; if we speak in love and tender sympathy, its tones will usu- ally indicate the same spirit. " Can any tongue speak fairer ? " We should be like an echo — speak when we are Weaving. 3 spoken to; but should not be like an echo — always hav- ing the last word. As Longfellow's arrow was hurled through the air and lost;, but waB at last foiund^ un- broken, in an oakj so our words, which, we often consider " wasted on the desert air/' may long, long afterwards be found " in the heart of a friend." Likewise, a motlier's love, echoing in a youth's brave heart, sometimes checks his downward wanderings and points him upward. In every way we should exert our best influence while living; then we will be neither afraid noir ashamed to " Let Echo, too, perform her part. Prolonging ev'ry note with art, And, in a low, expiring strain. Play all the concert o'er again." WEAVING. We are aware that the warp of life has' been placed in the loom, and we are all busily Aveaving. The shuttles are flying thick and fast. Our feet are on the treadles, con- stantly moving — down, up, do'wn., up' — keeping time with the old town clock ; our hands are busy, catching the shutr ties and arranging the tJireads; our minds are constantly planning and studying how to follow a certain design. Calmly watch the mystic weavers throwing their shuttles to and fro, amid noise and wild confusion. Some are con- tent with a rough, coarse, common cloth, because it requires less study and work; but every enthusiastic lover of the 4 He;arthstone Echoes. sublime and beautiful aspires to something of better qual- ity. Some are content with cheap, perishing dyes; oth- ers select splendid colors which never fade. One person weaves into his web the most delicate tints of Flora's bower. Another weaves the azure of the vaulted skies, interspersed with gold, green, and scarlet — richest, gaudiest hues; but his eye soon becomes wearied by the flaming, flashy colors, And " now witli the gold of the wheaten sheaf He mingles the brown of the russet leaf." In this mystic web called " life " some weave a soft, del- icate fabric; others, the "rough and ready;" still otheirs, a fabric of skips and knots^ — a regular " knickerbocker." Some weave that which is strong and durable; others, the flimsy gauze, frail as cobwebs — ^beautiful to look upon, per- haps, but too delicate to be of service. Some weave with slow, stubborn, rebellious motion; complaining at every stroke of the beam ; others, mth hands swift and willing. The lat- ter class, cheered by the sweet service of song and animated by pleasing environments that seem to strengthen their arms, make their weaving a pastimei, and their work is " Soft and smooth and ever spreading, As if made for angels' treading;" the former class in mad hastei jerk the sley and tangle the threads, making many ugly " balks " in the beautiful pat- tern. Some " snap the minute, delicate threads , Of their curious lives asunder. And then blame Heaven for the tangled ends, And sit and grieve and wonder." Wkaving. 5 Some weavers so quietly and patientlj ply the shuttle that their threads never break^ nor snarl, nor fray, nor tan- gle; with others the fabric becomes so skipped and worn and soiled, the threads so frayed and broken, that they be- come discouraged, fretted, and nervous, spoil the beautiful design, and "would fain give up the task. When tbeir work is finished, it is not accepted as a good article. ; it shows blots or stains placed thereon by many a tear that need not have fallen had they but stopped tO' correct their mistake at the first little tangle. Some appear color-blind; they seem to think one shade will answer as well as another, and tbus they spoil the pattern. Some want to weave the entire bolt, leaving no work for otheirs; some try to do all their part in one day, and thus die from overwork; whereas a much larger number would gladly leave it all for other hands to weave. At this great, whirring loo'm of time we all weave our separate threads — " some, stained ; others, fair ; " some, silk ; others, wool or cotton, flax or tow. The warp is, in tbe main, our natural selves ; the woof, our thoughts, our moods, our wordsj our actions. Some weave in too much of their own pride, temper, sensitiveness, and indomitable will ; oth- ers make a broad " ground " of tbeir own dark, deep sor- rows — their mingled fears and sighs and tears: — then " stripe " with their neighbors' vanities and criminal faults. There is a clasSj however, that Vvdll grace the loom; with a beautiful web of pure character, tende'mess., truth, and love, illumined by a Roman cross that gems the center. 6 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. TKe Master Workman stands near^ and sees if our character is real — sees if we ingeniously intermingle the shining warp and woof of each day so as to imitate the pattern assigned us; then he rolls it hack on that mys- terious beam. We hear his voice, as it were, in the rattle of the loom ; we see his pages of history unrolled f ro'm the beam. 0, the mystic weavers, the mystic thread, the mystic web of life ! Into the warp and woof of every book much is woven which the reader may regard as spurious or foreign; for it is fully as easy to criticise as to write a hook. Ho him it may appear as but " a cross and pile of threads " interlaced so as to form a pattern which may please or displease the fancy. " To the writer almost every filament has its own associates — ^how each bit of silk or wool or flax or tow was laboriously gathered or was blo'wn to him, when each was spun by the wheel of his fancy into yam, the color and tint which his imagination gave to each skein, and where each was finally woven into the fabric by the shuttle of his pen. Xo thread ever quite detaches itself from its growth and spinning, dyeing and weaving, and each draws him back to hours and places seemingly unrelated to the work." If this, my first attem.pt at " bookmaking," may fortu- nately escape the hypercritical gaze of those who criticise hut to condemn^ I trust that it may find its way over the lowly doorsill of so'me humble cottage, carrying with it a bright thread of good cheer to be woven into the web of some discouraged life. Chasing Bubbles. 7 CHASING BUBBLES. Time's great index finger has since tiien made several revolutions, each time pointing one year farther toward the simset wave ; but memory brings back that day, distinct as yesterday. It was the birthday of somebody's little boy. " Six years old to-day — 'mos' a man! What mus' I do 'cause it's my birthday ? I'm now too big to sit on mam- ma's knee and be a 'ha-a-hy/ Look at me ! Don't you see ? I've quit playin' ' girl ' now — quit wearin' dresses. Look at my new tro'users ! I'm a man now — 'mos' as big as papa. It's rainin' so hard, mamma says I mus' play in the house. Mammas is awful hard on little chilluns; but while we's lit- tle they will have their way. O, yes ! I know what I'll do: I'll blow bubbles ; that's what." With a short cane and a pan. of soapsuds he is soon as busy as a bee. For four hours he is oblivious to everything outside of the family room. On an adjoining lot carpen- ters are toiling hard, completing the inner work of a house- ; the busy saws are making music for the tired workmen, while the hammers go — tap, tap, tap — as a timely accompa- niment This dear little boy, however, does not see the carpenters, neither does he hear the music of saw or ham- mer; he is busy. The rain is falling almost in torrents, but he sees it not. The outer world gives him no trouble now. The carpenters are no more intent on their work than is the boy on his; the merchants feel no more interest in their business ; the king on his throne has his mind no more fully absorbed in national affairs than is the mind of this 8 Hearthstone; Kchoes. dear little innocent absorbed in his business, for he is blow- ing bubbles. Yes, blowing bubbles. Here is one ascending to the ceiling. There ! it is coming down. He runs under It and blows it up again. It is now about to strike tKe mirror, but he blows it back ; it bursts, is gone. He makes another ; it strikes the lamp, and is no more. Another ; he blows too hard ; it bursts. He blows one over the bed ; it falls on the counterpane and disappears. Watch the next ; it falls on the carpet and rolls over and over and over, to his great delight. The next floats about through the room at his bidding (at his blowing). When he makes one which he considers a success, he applauds with his chubby little hands (as " Blind Tom " applauding his own music), thinking he has won a great victory. For little children this is splendid recreation, and by it several object lessons in science may be taughtw You may thus teach them many things about colors and their com- bination; may show that bubbles must have light in order to reflect the beautiful colors ; tell how the prismatic colors are produced, and explain what a rainbow is ; speak of the tenacity of soapsuds as comp'ared with, clear water; tell about how the bubbles are made to rise by being filled with warm breath, which is lighter than common air; and may then draw the comparison between bubbles and balloons. * That boy is much older now; he thinks he is too large to thus amuse himseK. Eeally, he supposes he has quit that kind of pastime, but he has not ; lie still speaids much of his Chasing Bubbi.es. 9 precious life blowing bubbles. They rise before him — with assumed names now, however ; aud he recognizes them not by their real name, " bubbles/' but by their nom de guerre. They call themselves " life's realities," some hav- ing assumed the artistic names " Fun," " Pleasure," " Hap- piness," "Necessity," and such like; whereas others wear somber colors, and call themselves " Trouble," " Work," "Self-denial," and "Hard Times." With all the ear- nestness of his baby days he still chases the bright-col- ored ones and bows and moans over those of sombeir hues. But — look! — he is not alone in his fanciful employment; there stand some much older than he. What are they do- ing ? Watch them ! They, too, axe blowing bubbles. The workmen around them are busy at their various pursuits, the saws and hammers are now making coffins that may imprison their bodies ; yet they regard them not, for they are thinking about their bubbles. They watch these intently as they fly higher and higher in the air; they dash after them as they sail away. How amusing to see " gro^vn- up boys and girls " chasing bubbles ! But examine these bubbles carefully. They say something; not o^nly do they reflect the beautiful rainbow colors, but something is printed on each of tliem. Their mottoes are running people wild. Look ! What does that large, beautiful one say ? Read it ! It says : " This old country is too small for me." So it breaks loose from the cane that gave it its start and sails away toward the far west. The man watching that bubble says : "That's me, shore ! " Then he goes and does like- lo Hearthstone Echoes. wise. He is a mid die- aged man, whose life shadow is al- ready pointing eastward. He sells, or giveiS away, what he and his mfe liaye worked hard for^ leaves friends and kin- dred, and chases that bubble in search of a country large enough to contain him. By the time he reaches his desti- nation he finds that the bubble has lost its force, and so has he; not a very large country is required to contain him and his possessions now. A fair maiden is watching the next brilliant bubble. Painted on its round cheek of beauty (pretty as her own) she spies jewels and diamonds and fine clothing — such as she covets, but cannot consistently wear. Below them she sees written in small, dark letters: " Your parents are not very good to you; they do not dress you as they should. Come, be mine; I will give you all the fine things yooi want." She attempts to break loose from parental restraint and grasp tlie bubble, but a mysterious something prevents her. So there she stands, or sits, and pouts, watching that bubble and murmuring to herself and to her troubled parents its doleful words, changed to suit herself : " They don't dress me like other girls, or like they are able to do." Thus she deprives herself of the rosy-cheeked angel. Contentment, and robs her hard-working, self-sacrificing parents of a sweet-spirited, happy daughter. If they have been un- kind to her, it is by being too indulgent. Time speeds on. The bloom and beauty of her youth are wasted in cov- eting the transient possessions of the vain old queein, Style ; and before she is aware a sordid fro'"^m of discontent has Chasing Bubbi^es. ii frozeai over her features, rendering the jeiwels she already possesses unbecoming in the extreme. Another girl seizes that bubble, presses it; it is gone. Boys, does this expe- rience in any respect fit you? A young married couple are intently admiring a bubble now. The picture it presents is a magnificent home, with elegant furnishings — not the homely cottage in which their parents " made their starts" not even the O'ue that is the result of their lifetime savings. It far surpasses either — is " up to date/' has all the modern improvements and the most pleasing environments. They let go everything els©, eagerly seize it, and cherish it a little while ; theai it must go to pay their debts, and they blushingiy, but thankfully, ac- cept a back room in the humble old cottage home. Yonder is the picture of another charming home ; but — look ! — it is embraced in flames, and in a few moments the result of a life of honest toil is notliing but a little pile of ashes. Another bubble says : " With all yonr getting, get riches. Follow me; I will lead you to a mine of gold." Some one chases, but finds the dazzling material to be only yellow sand. "All that glitters is not gold." He pursues another "gold bug" (gold bubble). This one is true to its la- bel. Things turn to money at his touch. He gathers it; hoards it; tears down his banks and builds greater. Finally he is summoned to that other country, the land of spirits; tries hard to arrange otherwise, obtains all the aid he can, and pleads with the messenger to release him from the obligation; but he must go. Hurriedly collect- 12 Heiarthstone; Kchoks. ing as much of his wealth as possible, he starts with it ; drags it along until he reaches the banks of the deep, turbid river ; checks his baggage ; and — " 'No, no ! " exclaims the Cap- tain. " You cannot bring that heiavy baggage on board ; it would sink the boat." " Then I pray thee, Captain, let me stay witli it." " No, noi ! You are my captivei, and the time is up. AH aboard ! " And the despondent man crosses death's river, leaving his possessions on this side to be a " bone of contention " — only bubbles, which burst at least as soon as they touch death's chilly tide. What striking similarity between many of life's achieve- ments and soap bubbles! Both reflect outward light and beauty ; both are perishable ; both often paint bright visions of a golden future in some far-away land; both often bring disappointment. Frequently a young man works hard, earns money, and spends much of it for indulgences that take the gilt edge from his cultured character and blunt his finer feelings, while the re^mainder slips from, his grasp and disappears. Wealth and fame are often obtained through bloodshed and tyranny, and many have chased fleet- ing pleasures to their own destruction. They had better have been sitting on the floor making soap bubbles. The little boy greatly admires the many beautiful col- ors of his toy balloons, and who does not? But let him catch some of them and weigh them ; what are they now ? Many of life's most brilliant phases prove to be mere bub- bles, but there is a place where we may store our treasures and they will never vanish. Chasing Bubbi,es. 13 Each of these tiny glohes has a sweet missioin, after all. It reflects a beauty and sublimity that should inspire the desponding heart with courage and hope, and seems to say : " If I, only a fleeting bubble, bursting at the slightest jostle, can display the hand of love and power divinei, how ?nuch more is required of you, men of little faith ! " The articles in this volume may be regarded as mere bub- bles floating through the balmy atmosphere of more solid literature. Then I shall try not to paint on them visionary pictures calculated to lead the mind astray. I would like to paint thereon a miniature rainbow to entertain some child, and thus teach him the bubble's mission. I vwuld like to convince him that the color of the bubblei called " life " depends largely upon the rays of light thrown on it; that if it appears too dark, it needs to be placed in higher light. If these articles, though transient bubbles, may but serve this purpose; if they may give some older person a few moments' pastime or cast a gleam of hopei over some discouraged and gloomy life; if from them, though dimly reflected, some one may catch a glimpse of the Sun of Eighteousness and the " ho'me of the blest," then I shall have my reward. Theee things with which we are too economical: Kind words, appropriate smiles, charities. Three things with which we are too extravagant : Money, time, tongue. 14 Hearthstonb Echoks. THE GREAT MIRROR, Many pleasures and advantages and somei disadvantac^es are derived from the conunon looking-glass, even thei small pocket mirror. Where there is beauty of complexion or features it is sure to be observed; therefore some individ- uals give the mirror considerable attention. But — lo ! — ■ on the other hand, imperfection of face or toilet is just as perfectly reflected ; and, sad to say, with most of us the lat- ter predominates. We would be much better pleased with ourselves if all mirrors would flatter. Even the color of eyes or hair is thus shown: and if we have neglected hair, teeth, or toilet in general, our mirror will inform us of the fact. " Smile at the world, and it smiles back at you ; frown at it, and it frowns in return." Thus the world is a great looking-glass. Beyond the deep waters there is a certain hall with a magnificent painting overhead, the work of some European artist. Many people visit this hall and feast their eyes for hours on the grandeur of the work, continually finding soinc'- thing new and attractive tO' admire; but the eyes grow weary and the head aches froan so long gazing upward. Some one devised a plan for relieving this difiiculty. An immense mirror was placed on the floor, so persons could look into it and see the great beauties of the elegant paint- ing overhead. Thus with life. Erom the beauties and grandeur of earth we can form some idea of the glories of the eternal " home of the blest." Our powers of vision are The) Great Mirror. 15 too short to reach them ; but God has kindly placed cm his footstool a wonderful mirror^, into which we can look and see beautifully reflected the indescribable elegance of the glory land. The more we gaze into this great reflect- ing medium, the more we see in the upper world to ad- mire. The mirror is also a reflector of character. Have you told a falsehood ? Go' to the looking-glass on your dreeser, look straight into your own face, and ask yourself : " Who am I, guilty of such a grievous fault ? " Repeat your own name, while looking at yourself, and see if you are not ashamed of it ; then go to that greatest of all mirrors, your Bible, and there see how your falsehood looks. Have you taken that which belongs to another ? View yourself in this great mirror, see the flushes on your cheeks, then watch yourself turn pale at the thought. Have you wronged your neighbor ? Are you an extortioner ? Have you required usury ? Have you oppressed the widow and the or- phan ? Examine closely your character as reflected from God's never-failing mirror, and see if you are contented with it Have you taken the Lord's name in vain ? Have you been guilty of drunkenness ? Have you sold whisky ? Are you still selling it;, even on the sly? Do you in any way encourage any one to partake^ of the sparkling bever- age of woe ? The Bible will show you your picture. Look at it ! It is not merely a " proof " entitling you to another " sitting " ad libitum. It is the finished work of the great Artist, showing your exact features ; it is lifelike. 1 6 Hearthstone Echoes. If we will stand before the Bible mirror as we stand be- fore the ordinary looking-glass, feeling as much interest in it, we will see not only our good traits, but also our eirrors, follies, and sins, which we did not realize we had until we thus examined ourselves. Frequently we think we see a mote or cinder in our neighbor's eye and want to kindly re- move it for him ; but by looking closely into this holy mir- ror we find, to our utter astonishment, it is a beam in our own eye. The reason we do not find it sooner is that we will not look closely into the mirror. It is strange that we can see our own good qualities better than those of others, while to us the faults of others are made so prominent and to many of our oiwn we are blind. An imperfect mirror invariably makes an imperfect re- flection. In a small room in the " Moorish Palace," at the World's Fair, there were arranged in some comical and com- plicated way a vast number of mirrors, reflecting just that many images of each individual. These images were of various sizes, shapes, and proportions; and the result was a comical confusion, for no one could recognize his own face or figure — sometimes etxceedingly long and slender, sometimes short and " dumpy," like the " brown- ies," and with mouth like that of an alligator. In another room the mirrors were so arranged as to cause a very few persons to appear like a large concourse of peoplei One woman cried out that she was about to suffocate, and asked to' be quickly removed from that densely-crowded room, when it was positively known by her friends at the door that The) Great Mirror. 17 she was the only individual in the rooim. Ano'thea* trou- ble about these complications was that when an individual tried tO' get out of the room he was fully as apt. tO' gO' farther in, for the reflections would bewilder him so he could not know which way he was going. So if we try tO' see our true character reflected from va- rious and complicated mirrors, we are siu-e to receive dis- torted views — too broad or too long, one-sided, or in some way out of proportion. Sometimes the more we try by these bewildering reflections to get out intO' the true light, the more tangled we become, until we appeal to- the true guide. Our great spiritual mirror is free from spots and dust and waving blemishes, and is fully guaranteed by the firm from which we obtained it — the great and reliable Arm of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. , When about ready to start anywhere, we, as a rule, go before the mirror to see if our toilet is properly arranged. So when about to pass from earth to the next lif e^ we should stand before the mirror of God's truth and see if we are ready. We may think our spiritual toilet is properly ad- justed, but on close examination we may find some very important changes to be made. Again, we should not wait too long before making this eLsamination, for som-etimes we have nO' time to prepare just before starting. We may not know the train of death is due until it arrives at our station^ for this train runs on a peculiar schedule. It is too late to make our arrange- ments after it comes, and we cannot at our pleasure wait 1 8 Hbarthstonb Echoes. for another train ; but as we have livedo so must we die and appear before the great Judge. Reader, are you prepared to die ? Go to that greatest of mirrors and seei. THE **LOST SCHOOLHOUSE.*' I FOEMED its acquaintance in the long agoi, when, Dun- lap, Tenn., was a tiny infant, cradled in the beautiful vale of Sequatchie. The " Lost Schoolhouse " was old enough to be mother, perhaps grandmother, of the village. It was doubtless the alma mater of some who helped tO' build the little toAVUj which is situated on the highway from Jasper to Pikeville. Its name was very appropriate, as it was ait^ uated some distance from the public road and was hidden therefrom by a dense forest. A well-beaten path led thereto from the public road; but at times was ob- structed by fallen limbs, pine needles, and oak leaves. When the " lost " was f ound_, it was in a very small sedge field near tlie " Dividing Ridge^" which runs north and south throughout the beautiful valley between and parallel with the Cumberland Mountain and Walden's Ridge. Around that house still cluster many pleasant memories. I well remember its appearance. It w'as> not a modern building. ISTothing was said of its Gothic roof; its. cor- ridors, balconies, museums, libraries ; its spacious halls ; its " up-to-date " folding desks ; its opera chairs ; for it was simply a " little old log cabin [not] in the lana" Its The "Lost Schooiugh extravagant, is very untidy in appearance. (Is it not strange that those who spend the most money on their toilet are often farthest from being neat ?) If he goes on errands oi speed, he forgets when to come back. He does not forget to find fault, however, though he is a very poor provider. He wants her to cook exactly what he likes best and exactly the way he wants it cooked — every time. He is a chronic old grumbler. Occu- pying his favorite corner in the little fireside circle, he smokes and chews and spits, and spits and chews and smokes, before eating, after eating, and between meals, to the thorough disgust of any tidy, refined woman. In the strictest sense of the term, he " boards with his wife," but boards on credit. He spends enough money for tobaccO' to clothe her in silk, yet reminds her of the poverty of his pocketbook whenever she asks for fifty cents tO' have her last year's hat made over. He is sensitive as a mimosa brier, and " flies to pieces " as quick as a touch-me-not. He should be labeled, " Handle with Care ; " for if you do not always approach him with greatest tenderness, his feelings will be ruffled and project like the quills of an angry porcu- pine. She has rare musical attainments, and there was a time when he appeared passionately fond of music, but since their marriage he has given her no encouragement what- 46 Hearthstone Echoes. ever in this respect ; so, like most of married women, she has entirely gfiven it up. Thej are fully as unequally yoked in religious sentiment and practice. She finds sweet comfort in the precious promises of God's word, and, though a busy little woman, finds plenty of time for scriptural study and general read- ing. He, though a noted idler, a regular loafer, has no time for Bible study, and can never become interested in the " old book," anyway. It is always the busy person who finds time for mental development; an idler has no time for anything, sees no merit in any book. This man be- comes absorbed in some flimsy " ism ; " will not investigate the merits or demerits of anything, but either drifts with the current or takes some nonsensically-stubborn position, and stands like the rock of Gibraltar, regardless of sense', rea- son, or revelation. Death will call for this couple by and by. She will be ready. She stays in the fold of safety, is always ready. He has started to get. ready several times; at least he has said he knew it was his duty to become a Christian, did not intend to die out of the church, and was thinking about get- ting ready to make his arrangements to consider the mat- ter as soon as he was good enough and could finish his work and find time to read the Bible through and learn his duty. Poor man ! He is so' very slow his friends fear he will post- pone his preparation until the angel doorkeeper will an- nounce, " Too late ! " and then dose th.e door. Are you acquainted with this couple? Une;quali.y Yokkd. 47 III. " Well, have you heard ' the latest ? ' " "l^o; what is it?" " Why, Miss Whimsey is married, at last ! " " Who. in the world ? I certainly feel sorry for the man who has assumed that burden. Poor fellow ! He will have his hands full. Pray tell me who is the unfortunate man." " Mr. Willing Indulgence." " I do wonder ! Poor man ! Wellj his namei sounds like he might have tlie will if he only has the power. I doubt his being equal to the emergency ; but it is his lookout, not mine. I am giad of that." ISTow^, Miss Pettie Whimsical has for a long time beeai a fruitful subject of neighborhood gossip. Being tlie baby and only daughter in a large family, she, unfortunately, was indulged in babyhood and girlhood until indulgence ceased to be a virtue. It is no longer a virtue when the receiver ceases to appreciate it — begins to expect more and more, to consider indulgence nothing more than her rights. Imagine you are spending a night with that family and sleeping, or trying to sleep, in a room adjoining the family room when " baby " is only a few months old. At noon of night the priceless jewel awakes and begins her usual tune, pitched in a high key. " By-e-e^e-e ! " sings the mother, half asleep; but her voice does not harmonize with the baby's voice; it is in a different kev. 48 Hearthstone Echoes. " Father knows what his little girl wants," utters the deep, heavy voice of pateirnal affection; and he quickly arises and lights the lamp, for nothing else will please her. When she grows tired of looking at the light, her papa or mamma (this time her mamma) must get up and walk with her; for she is the baby girl, you know — the " firstest and onliest " one — and it will never do to^ let her cry. She likes walking, and is now all smiles.; but even mothers become tired of walking after a while on a cold night. " Eock, rock, rock ! " goes the little crib. " By-o- baby ! " sings the tired, sleepy mother ; for baby must not cry, you know. " Swing, swing ! " goes the little ham- mock; but she does not want to swing this time; she wants to be walked. Up jumps papa and puts her in her pretty buggy. The little old cradle sufficed for the boys, but they were boys ; she is a girl, and must have all the up-to-date conveniences. He draws thei buggy back and forth, back and forth, vio^lently across the floor, making a loud and lone- some roar. (Who could sleep in the next room ?) Even papa is growing weary of the fun. The child pitches her voice higher, still higher. " Hush ! Go to sleep, you little imp ! " " ISTow, papa ! " says his wife. Then he slightly coughs, twice only. "Alice, you will have to get up and do something with this child; she needs killing. She will give me a spell of la grippa I have already coughed my throat sore. I'm going to bed." The poor mother, with that dreadful headache caused by Unequai^ly Yokbd. 49 exposure and frequent loss of sleep, has been, coughing and sneezing for an hour, and is now too hoarse to sing " Eock-a- by," but gets up again: — aching head, aching side, aching back, aching heart — and again walks with the baby ; while the little creature " coO'S " and looks at her with sparkling eyes, wide-awake as a sunflower. She is delighted while her mother walks. Beholding a crystal tear drop that has left the baby's eye and is resting in a dimple on her little cheek, the mother's heart is touched again, and again she decides her treasure must not cry. With aching limbs and aching frame, the walking continues, until the infant, weary of waking, goes to sleep. The mother returns to her bed, not much against her will. She is tired enough to " sleep without rocking ; " so is the visitor in the adjoining room. Why all this disturbance ? Simply because baby is spoiled. Swift-winged time speeds on. The little girl is so badly spoiled that even her friends can scarcely tolerate her. The neighbors dread to see her coming. She is into every con- ceivable mischief — pulling things, out of machine drawers and off of dressers; overturning chairs; scratching furni- ture; whining; fretting; interrupting the talkers; calling for this, that, and the other thing to eat ; soiling things with sticky, greasy fingers ; then off into the yard, breaking vines and pulling up flowers; back into the house for another buttered biscuit, then water, then cake and pickle — until the poor mother is worried and the neighbor visited heaves a sigh of relief at their departure, though she loved the child's mother and always gave her a hearty welcome. It begins 50 Hejarthstonk Echoks. to be a neighboirhood saying: " 0, my! Yoader comes Mrs. , and she's bringing that unruly child. Wliy didn't she leave her at home ? Mrs. is. a good, sweet woman ; but. — ^la, la ! — ^that horrid Whimsey ! " Erelong Pettie is a " gro^wn-up " schoolgirl. A home- spoiled child usually gives the teacher trouble, and Whim- sey is no exception to the rule. Regarding herself as. a priv- ileged character, she. wants to be petted and humored in every whim, and thinks she can break the rules with abso- lute impunity. Miss Pettie Whimsical must not be repri- bianded for anything, for she has always had her own way. Her parents and brothers have always seemed to regard it as a special privilege to wait on her and grant her every de- sire; so they have humored her until she is very exacting, and would be miserable if denied even a slight request. They are by no means wealthy, but have a nice income, or she would have almost sent them to the poorhouse before this time, she is so extravagant. They worked hard for what they have, and it was a pity for them to waste it on her, unless she appreciated it more. When her parents started out on their wedded existence, they were very poor indeed. She had nothing, and he had to borrow money to buy his wedding outfit. When he would speak of marrying, his mother would, in a jovial way, sing to him : "As you have nothing and your girl has nothing. Don't be in a hurry to wed; For nothing and nothing together make nothing, And nothing won't buy your bread." Unequally Yoked. 51 But ultimatelj tkis situatioai was no disgrace and no dis- advantage to tkeim. Both, having been reiaxed poor, thej did not expect mucli in the way O'f indulgence, and were willing to work liard and live economically — about the hap- piest condition in which people can livei, after all. It was often said she was the most graceful woman at the washtub in that community, and that her songs sounded sweeter when accompanied by the gentle music of the washboai'd than at any other time. For many years they lived in a humble rented cottage — he, working for a very small salary; she, with her own industrious and willing hands, faithfully and smoothly running all the home machinery and carefully training the young heart tendrils of an interesting fam- ily of boys. Their lives of uprightness and Christian con- secration won for them the confidence and esteem of their fellow-men, and it was predicted that they should some time see better days. Little by little, by honest endeavor, they arose from poverty. He attained to special promi- nence as a citizen^, while she was always one of thosei sweet, amiable, refined, self-sacrificing characters that are loved and admired by all. Their financial promotion did not pro- mote (?) them to indolence and laziness, as is too often the case in these latter days. Persons properly reared to hard work under the " old constitution " are not very liable to drift into a state of chronic do-nothingness. This couple, having themselves realized the sting of poverty, have al- ways fully sympathized with the poor ; and, not content with only saying to the half -clothed and hungry, " Depart, in 5.2 Heari^hstone Kchoes. peace, be ye wanned and filled," they have manifested that sympathy in a more substantial way. They have given lib- erally of their means for benevolent purposes, also' for the upbuilding of the Master's work, and, while blessing oth- ers, have themselves been greatly blessed. By skillful man- agement and continued industry they have secured a very desirable home, and have been able to givei all their children a very good, solid, practical education. Their sons, having inherited a goodly portion of their parents' energy and skill, are among our most useful, influential, and highly-respected citizens. The only objection urged against this family is their sad mistake in rearing this little girl the way they hava To them was intrusted the beautiful lump of clay, out of which they were expected to mold the best possible image. It was their duty to use the best advantages they had to the best effect they could ; then if the image should be marred, they could not be censured for the f ailura In- stead of acting thus, they designed a "wall flower; " and she did not resent — was easily molded into that shape. She has been a " parlor boarder " all her life, demanding what she pleased, feeling confident from experience that her de- mands would receive prompt attention. She has exalted ideas of life, however, and there is not a stigma on her moral record. There is no discount in her appearancei. She cer- tainly dresses elegantly, is a beautiful young lady, intelli- gent, and the very embodiment of grace. She has had the ^best advantages, and has many rare accomplishments; but they are seriously clouded by that dreadful disposition — UNEQUAI.LY Yoked. 53 irritable, sensitive, exacting, and unpleasant in various other ways. If any little thing goes contrary to her notions, she almost drifts off into Bunyan's " slough of despond "— ^ pouts, sulks, cries, makes herself miserable, and drives every smile from the household. She scorns the very idea of work; ssljs the world owes her a living (or some man does), and there are plenty of persons to work without her. She would rather read novels any day ; so she spends .iiuch of her time reading them, thus filling her bright mind with trashy literature, feeding it with froth. Her mother long ago quit asking her to assist in the home work, for she was never ready to help, and manifested such a spirit of un- willingness as to make even her pretended assistance a draw- back instead of a relief. Is it not astonishing that the over- indulged child always shows the least gratitude? Whim- sey has always seemed to consider herself undeor special obligations to " boss " the family, then criticise their work. She would keep strictly aloof from the kitchen and dining room until the meal was prepared by her mother, then go in abruptly, look around scornfully, and say : " Well, we have nothing at all to eat to-day, sure; I thought you would have " — so and so. Like many others of Adam's race, Whimsey has spent more time studying about what she wanted than thanking for what she already had. Notice it when and where you will, and you will ascertain that^ as a rule, the member in every family who criticises most severely, dictates most lavishly, and complains most uncompromisingly if his 54 Hearthstone Echoes. whims are not granted is the one who does the least of the work and defrays the least in the family expenses. It is almost as bad in this respect in the natural family as in the great spiritual family, the church. In each the grumbler or fault-finder is the " parlor boarder." Poor Mr. Willing Indulgence! I fear he will want to appeal to " the powers that be " before long to have his name changed to " Tired-of-it." He does not know her yet like I do. He never heard of her until that grand barbecue here about three months agO'j but says her captivating eyes, bewitching smiles, soft and sweet voice, and placid coun- tenance were too much for him; and he decided then and there to win her hand and heart, if possible. I'll never tell him how she has been petted and spoiled nor how she came by (earned) her names, " Pettie " and " Whimsey." I'll let him have the fun of finding it O'Ut lY. Six weeks have passed. The couple have returned from their tour, and have gone to their beautiful home which he bought and furnished in grand style before their marriage. He had Mrs. Goodlady and Miss Tidy wise (elegant women) to assist him in selecting and arranging thei fumiturei, tell- ing them he did not want them to consider the money ques- tion any item at all. He said that he had plenty of that; that he expected to marry but once; and that he wanted the home as nearly as possible worthy of the beau- tiful bird he was going to put into it, wanted it fitted up to Unequally Yoked. 55 suit the taste and convenience of the greatest girl in the wide, wide world— the " just one girl." When they inti- mated that possibly he had extravagant ideas, he said he did not want to be extravagant, thought that was entirely wrong, but had long since learned that the " beet is cheap- est " in many instances; that there was no economy in buying "common" furniture, neither any "fad" which would soon look out of style; so hei wanted everything at- tractive, " up to date.," and durable. Miss Truthful was there yesterday, and she says their home is " awfully nice, perfectly lovely ; " that from kitchen to parlor everything is arranged with exquisite tastei; and the finest piano — wh^^-e! Having plenty of money, he wanted to give his pretty bride a happy surprisei. I intend calling on her to-morrow just to hear her unjust criticisms on the house and its furnishings. If she is pleased with anything, it will be the first time. I have known, her all her life. She is nothing but a pet, a spoiled baby. Poor man ! He will regret spending all that money in less than a year. Do you hear ? " Good morning, Mrs. Indulgence ! I have come to pre^ sent my congratulations. I have wanted to call on you ever since you began housekeeping. I was so hungry to see your lovely home. Indeed, you were a lucky miss to be presented with such a home, and it so splendidly furnished, too. The location is charming; everybody says it is by far the most desirable in town." 56 Hearthstone; Echoes. " Well, y-e-s ; the house does right well, I suppose, for beginners; but it is not planned at all according to my taste, is so' inconvenient and miserably ugly. The rooms that are plastered are as white as snow. They make me think of ghosts every time I enter them. I like the plas- tering slightly tinted. Then all that highly-embossed and ingrain paper in the other rooms — fine indeed, but I do not like the colors ; they do not harmonize with the various tints in my fine paintings. As to the location, I think 7t is perfectly awful; would rather have any other lot in town. It will all do to begin with, though ; but I always said that when I married I would have a nice honie at first, if I never did afterwards. You know that young folks have high aSpi- rations. They have exalted ideas of life and a perfect mania for elegant homes. Almost anything will do for older people; they have had their day, and it is nothing more than their duty to see that their children have a good time; but it is the strangest thing to me that most parents act as if they want their children to begin with nothing, as they did, and work hard for all they expect to' have; I would like to know what they want with what they have laid up, except to give to their children. As children grow up, they respect their parents' pocketbook much morei than their au- thority. Xothing can please a son or a daughter more than to play at random with father's purse string. This is the favorite toy; and when deprived of it, what further use — I — I — I mean I do not see why parents will not always grant this pleasant little privilege. It keeps children in Unequally Yoked. 57 such good humor. There is nothing they enjoy morei. I believe in young people having a good time, and money is just what can give it. It takes lots of it, though ; and, say (don't you tell him that I said it; I have told him often enough), I would never have married the man I did had it not been for his wealth. He is not a bit handsome:, and I never could love him like I did his rival^ Mr. ; but how I do love his pocketbook! He has money in half a dozen banks ; so if some of them fail, h© will have others to depend upon. . . . O, me ! I'm almost tared to death trying to arrange things in some passable order. Mr. In- dulgence thought h© would do something smart; so. he bought all this ' old-timey ' stuff and had these ' tacky ' old women to help him arrange it — or, rather, to throw it into the house ; and — I'll declare ! — ^it's the ' tackies-t ' mess; I have ever seen. It's perfectly hideous. I just laughed out- right in his face when he brought me here, everything looked so funny. He ' kinder ' smiled^ but didn't laugh much. ; and I do not believe he appreciated my looks and comical, three-cornered smiles as I gazed around at the ludicrous display. He seemed to think I would sanction everything ; but — mercy! — that would never do. It would look like I had no better taste or judgment than the women who' helped select and arrange the old things. I wanted toi let him know on the very start that I had been better reared than that I have guyed him about his ' associate judges ' until I do not believe he likes it a bit. You see, he used to go with that ugly old maid. Miss Tidywise ; and her aunt, 58 Hearthstone Echoes. old Mrs. Goodlady, wanted him to marry heir. I wish he had, if this is a sample of the way he is going tO' treat me. But go through the house' (if you can get, thro'Ugh for the dirt), and look at the rest of the so-called ' furniturei' The piano there does very well, but — well, I would have se- lected a different style altogether; but I guess I can make out with it a while until I can sell it for half its cost, then buy the kind I want. Decidedly the worst trouble I have had thus far is with my servants. They worry -me to death ; they just will not — " " Servants ? Pray tell me what you want with servants. There are only two of you to work for, and both are young, strong, and able to do what little work you need." " Little, indeed ! You may call it ' little ' if you want tO' ; I don't. There's all the cooking and that abominable dish washing; then all the sweeping, dusting, shopping [she failed to mention the grumbling, visiting, and gossiping] — a thousand and one tilings to do. You are: just lilie Mr. Indulgence. Don't you thinlv he wanted us to try to do our own work ? He said he would help me ; that we could live on half of what it would take: if we had cerv- ants (I didn't know I was marrying a. miser) ; and that we could keep everything so much cleaner than servants would. Poor idiot! That is just what I want with servants^ — ^to keep the house clean and to do' the work, soi I will not have to get my hands black and hard and rough as nutmeg grat- ers. Tie has always been tied to^ his mother's apron string, and has watched her do' and do and do and helped her do Unequally Yoked. 59 until he thinks it is nothing but right for women to do the drudgery. His mother actually taught him to wash dishes, make up beds, sweep, sew on buttons, and do many other unnecessary things. He really tried to reason with me on the subject of housekeeping, but I was too' smart to listen. He carefully rexiiinded me that he had put waterworks all through the house; had the coal and kindling in arm's length; -had arranged with a dairyman to bring milk and butter to the kitchen door, likewise a. groceryman toi de- liver our provisions; had his office in the adjoining build- ing, so I would not be without his company long and so he could always keep up my fires and do the chores ; and then had the impudence to say he didn't think we would need any help ; that he really needed the exercise and would gladly help me. (Pitiful paupers that we are !) Such stuff to choke a bride with! ISTow, what would my hands look like on the piano keys after I had washed dishes for a year ? And what would I look like running to answer the telephone and the doorbell every time, just like I had been reared in abject poverty and had always been used to work? He made me mad then and there. I set my limber tongue on a high pivot and whirled it round and round until I told him what I thought of him, of my sad disappointment in ' our home,' as he called it — this pen of trash in which he has caged me. I strictly informed him that I would never at- tempt to keep house one week with less than three servants — cook, housegirl, and errand boy. [It is astonishing how much use young persons can find for " servants," especially 6o Hearthstone Echoes. young persons who have been reared without a servant in the house, except their father and mother.] I also wanted a groom, but thought if my husband wanted to see after the dusty horse and carriage, leave his work, close his office, and take me driving every afternoon,, he might dO' sO'; I would leave that little matter with him. He didn't object to doing so before our marriage, and I wanted to know how long he would hold out that way. However, I think it looks so much nicer for those of our standing tO' have a regular coachman ; don't you ? It is sO' ' tacky ' for the man him- self to drive. Then it looks so much grander to see several servants about a home ; it looks as if persons are living and up to date." " Stop, woman ! You frighten me. You are flying too high and too f ast^ If you do not mind, you will light low and drag that good husband down with you. You are dis- couraging him on the start." " That's what he says, but I'm determined toi live while I do live ; and — what do you think ? — the other morning, after our first cook left us, he lovingly said : ' iN'ow, wife, let us be right smart and get breakfast ourselves.' I agreed, knowing I could soon convince him. He had the fire roar- ing in half the time the errand boy would have been dress ing, made the coffee (and it was coffee, too), broiled steak, toasted cheese, scrambled eggs the nicest, and then came and woke me. He had left nothing for me to do except to make biscuits. ISTow, honestly, I had never made a biscuit in my life; for, in my rearing, at times when we had no Unequai,i.y Yoked. 6i servants, mamma always did tlie cooking, and I — I enter- tained the company. She couldn't do both, you know, she was so delicate ; and it was no trouble to me to keep ' dressed up/ Moreover, she said she had always thought there ought to be one pair of soft, white hands in every family. But back to my biscuit story. Mr. I told me what ingredients to use, where to find them, and said one cup of buttermilk would make plenty of biscuits for us. He then said per- haps I had better measure the ingredients the first tima I remembered hearing our cook say it took three' cups of milk each meal to make our biscuits, but I thought I would obey my husband ' this once ; ' so I measured my milk, flour, soda, salt, and lard — one cup each — and in went my hand, diamond ring and all. I stirred 'and stirred and stirred, but it wouldn't thicken sufficiently. I had often heard of kneading dough ; I certainly needed some then. I called Mr. Willing from currying the horses to come and doctor my biscuit dough. ' You need more flour, my dear,' he said as soon as he looked at it. He then quickly washed his hands, sifted some flour, helped to get the biscuits ready for the stove, and managed the baking, while I straightened up things in the dining room. ' Who-ere ! ' came ringing from the cookroom in a few moments, with an old-fashioned, side-splitting laugh — a regular, boisterous Mia, ha!' ' What is the matter ? !N'ow yO'U are making fun of my bis- cuits, and I won't make any more. I told you I couldn't cook; I told you so. My motto is : " If at first I don't suc- ceed, I try, try no more." ' He came to the table, sober 62 Hkarthstone) Echoes. as a judgB, with the steaming biscuits that had all run to- gether and puffed above the top of the pan. 'Just look how pretty, dearie ! ' he says. ' Didn't they rise nicely ? A regular golden lo'af ! I will telephone to the bakery (next block) and get some hot buns to mix along with our nice biscuits,' Down we sat to breakfast. After he gave thanks, I broke open and buttered a biscuit ; so did he ; but they were yellow as gold, and did not smell like mother's biscuits. ' O, what yellow flour ! ' I exclaimed ; ' and per- fectly musty. That grocer ought to be — ' He gently stopped me, and said that nothing was wrong, except I had put in a little too much soda ; but I'll declare I never used a bit more soda than I did milk^ salt, lard, or flour. He had tbe audacity to say he would show me how tO' proportion the ingredients the next time; but I quickly informed him that he might have the pleasure of instructing the cook; that I was not going to be a slave for any man. He drooped his head and looked sad. Then I think he tried to retaliate, for he ate three buns and only the top crust of one of my biscuits, after all the pains I took in making them for him. Suffice it to say he had a cook here to get dinner, and will have the next time you hear from him. He regrets it be- cause she is so careless, is breaking up our dishes so fast; but I don't care for that^ There will be plenty of dishes after I am dead and gone, and I am not going to worry over little things. I don't like those dishes, anyway. They are of an excellent quality of China and were very costly, but I dislike the decorations. They are wild roses, and I UnequaIvLy Yoked. 63 prefer clover blossoms; they are so nmch more artistic. But never mind ; they will soon be gone, then I will select for myself. Glorious privilege ! The honsegirl broke the only thing I was really proud of — that large cut-glass fruit bowl, one of my handsomest bridal presents and from one of my old sweethearts, the nicest man that ever waited on me (I was a simpleton for not marrying that man). I cried my eyes red when she broke it ; but when ' Eastus ' broke that large mirror in the folding bed, Mr. Indulgence almost cried, and I nearly split my sides laughing, because I knew that meant a new suit of furniture for my room. I don't like the finishing of this horrid old furniture; I don't consider it up to data" This was the preface to her prodigious catalogue of ob- jections that she carefully explained to her young husband. She seems tO' have been born in the objective case., comr pared as an objective adjective and conjugated as an. ob- jective verb; and I do not see why every young man did not decline her as an objective noun or pronoun. She ob- jects, and objects; and when the patience of everybody is worn out, she begins a fresh chapter of objections. I am fearful she will drive that poor man to the lunatic asylum, to a drunkard's grave, or to suicide. He certainly has a " wasp " to contend with. V. Twenty-three years have rushed by. Their firstborn has cast his first vote ; their oldest daughter has married a drunk- 64 Hearthstonk Echoes. ard, a gambler' — to get rid of tlie taunts at hoone, ske said. Three otJier bojs and a baby girl have^ completed the family. Once has Mr. Indulgence been forced to screen himself be- hind the bankrupt law; thrice have they seen their home reduced to ashes (twice in consequence of careless serv- ants). They have seen their married daughter neglected and maltreated by the brute she mistook for a husband; they have seen tears of anguish wrung from her tender heart. Often have they lovingly received her back into the home of her childhood when she had to. flee for safety from the drunken beast. Hungry, unnerved, quivering, scream- ing, she would rush for refuge to the home and hearts of parental love. More than once has her father supplied her with the necessaries and comforts, of life; but the being to whom in youth she innocently plighted her vows has dis- posed of everything he could to' satisfy the burning thirst for the mad demon, drink. Weeks and months have found Mrs. Indulgence prostrate on an invalid's couch. Five years ago the hand of afflic- tion fell heavily upon the two youngest children; and the precious little boy, after a few days of indescribable sufFer- ing, peacefully passed into the realm of spirits. Then night and day, week after week, anxious watchers waited by a bedside. The unfeeling death messenger seemed to be leaning over that bed trying to decide which of its occu- pants he should take first, for the mother and her little girl were very near death's door. " O, Death, hear my petition, I implore thee ; spare my Unbquai^ly Yok^d. 65 sweet child and take me ! " exclaimed the sorrowing, suffer- ing mother. The little one, slightly startled, soiftly raised her waxen fingers, her almost transparent hand, as if tO' say: '" l^o, no ! Don't take my dood mamma ; take me, take me ! '' The heart-crushed husband, the doting father, showered down the tears he had long kept concealed and wept aloud : " 0, Death, hear me, I pray ! Spare my dear wife and babe ! Here am I ; take me I " Such tender pleadings apparently touched even the cold- hearted death angel, and for a while he stayed his hand. Soon he leaned over again, looked at one, then the other, as if still undecided. He then calmly reached his skeleton fingers toward the beautiful babe. " 0," shrieked the fond mother, " spare, spare, my darling child ! You must not take her ! I cannot give her up; I cannot live without her! Take me! 0, take me!" " You know not what yooi ask, woman," replied tbe an- gel (through the tongue of the skillful physician) ; " for if your little one lives, she will be no more comfort to you; if she shall go away, she will be blessed both now and for- ever." The father's heart was filled almost to bursting. He felt as if he could endure no more. Trying to grow submissive, he went into another room, where he could be alone with his God, on. whose strong arm he had long leaned for sup- port when earthly fascinations seemed converted into im- 66 Hearthstone Echoks. penetrable clouds of darkest gloom. He knew his .Father Friend had never forsaken him ; sO' after this troubled hour — this Gethsemane of trials and heartaches and victories of resignation — he fervently prayed amid deep heart throbs: " Thy will, Lord, be done." Eetnming to the mother, he found her still frantically pleading for the babe to be spared, as if perfectly rebellious against everything sacred and wanting her desires granted regardless of consequences. She had her wish. The death messenger gradually loosed his grasp and left the waxen figure of the innocent child prostrate beside the invalid mother. But nevermore can the beautiful babe (two years old) climb up and caress the lips that respond as none but a mother's ever can ; nevermore can that little tongue lisp the sweet names " papa," " mamma," as heretofore, for there is serious trouble In the spine and brain; never again can the little girl walk; never again can she speak rationally. Her mind is for- ever gone. 0, wo-uld that the death angel had taken her with her little brother ! But she is spared. Why, why ? Echo solemnly answers : " Why ? " It is too true that we often know not what w© ask. We pray without understanding, and sometimes in a rebellious spirit, as if to say : " ISTot thy will, but mine." In the first place, we sometimes pray without trying to serve the Lord, without even an attempted obedience to his precepts. How can we, how dare we, ask him for more blessings while we are so unworthy of what we already have and while we ' stand in open rebellion against his holy will ? We have no Unequali^y Yokkd. 67 promise of answer to such petitioiis. " Why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say ? " It is our glorious privilege, our unmerited honor, to call on " our Father," but it should be with the spirit of humility and of willing, loving obedience. In the next place, we appar- ently presume to think we know our needs better than the Father does, whereas frequently if the very things for which we pray should be granted, they would be to us a curse. Our prayers are composed too much of requests and peti- tions: not enough of expressions of gratitude for blessings past, present, and prospective. We often ask for useless, and even harmful, things. Think of our multiplied re^ quests,, as if trying to make the Lord a pauper by asking him to give away everything that is good and desirable ! We often pray in a very dictatorial spirit, telling the Lord ex- actly what to do, when, and in what manner. 'No mortal knows enough of the future to insist on his own wishes being granted, and it should be with fear and trembling that we approach the throne of grace to ask for more bless- ings. Every home must some day have its Gethsemane; so with every life. There will come a crisis in which we will ar- dently crave the granting of our ovm desires. We will either be almost, if not altogether, rebellious against the powers that rule, or else we will with bleeding hearts meekly submit and murmur not. The shadow of death sometimes hangs over our homes, and to us all is appalling dark- ness. As the bitter cup is held to our lips, we go in secret 68 Hearthstone Echoes. to our Father for relief. In anguish of soul we each may cry : " O mj Father, ... let this cup pass from me." In our weakness we try to peer into the future. There we see nothing but irreiparable loss and impenetrable gloom resulting from the sad affliction that is impending. We see no possible good that could result therefrom, whereas we think we see much harm that would be^ avoided and great good that would without doubt be accomplished by counter- manding what seems to be the inevitable. Then, with all the earnestness of our hearts and with no evil intent, again we implore: "Let this cup pass." The soul within us then makes a desperate effort to throw off all selfishness and yield to what is right. ' The finger of faith points us back to the garden of olives. Though the passover moon is full, it is clouded by the heavy weight of that mournful hour, and we behold " Nigbt with ebon pinions brooding o'er the vale ; " we watch the royal Son of David as, with solemn, but ma- jestic, tread on his own funeral march, he begins "to be sorrowful and very heavy ; " we hear this Man of sorrows saying to his selected trio, " My soul is exceeding sorrow- ful, even unto death : tarry ye here, and watch with me ; " we see him go " a little farther " and fall on his face, as if in the very shadow of the cross and under the stinging scourge and the hiss of torture; we hear the pleading out'- burst of his agonized spirit: " O my Father, if it be possible, let this ©up pass from me." For an instant a mighty bat- UnrqualIvY Yoked. 69 tie seems raging between two natures, the human and the divine; but as in the lonely wilderness, so now in this gar- den of sorrows, divinity is victorious; the Son of man is in humble subjection to the higher will; and though in his deep earnestness his sweat falls as great drops of blood, we hear those words of sublime submission: " Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." Having nobly submitted of his own will, he, after this troubled hour of Gethsemane, is calm as the unruffled sea. We see him return to the three he had appointed as a kind of inner guard; wei hear his touching expression of disappointment that in this dreadful crisis he seemed deprived of all human sympathy— that even his chosen three, whom he wished to have near him in his woe, had become so overpowered they could not watch with him " one hour." " Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation," tenderly admonishes the loving and future-knowing Savior. " The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." He leaves them and prays again and again, not again requesting that the cup of anguish may pass from him, but that he may be enabled to fulfill the divine will in completing his sacrifice— his glorious work of human redemption— that he may glorify God and magnify his love. From this let us learn the beautiful lesson of resignation. " Prayer pulls the ropei below, and the great bell rings above in the ears of God," said Spurgeon. But we should be careful not to ring that bell so as to ask God to do for us what he has commanded us to do for ourselves; neither 70 HEARTHSTONE ECHOES. should we ask him to do anything not in accordance with divine sanction. If we could have perfect resignation to the Father's will, it would strengthen ns, fill us with peace, and fit us for nobler work ; it would, comparatively, change the cross into a crown, Gethsemane into paradise, death into immortal glory. How farseeing is the faith and how divine the sweet spirit of submiss-ion that amidst the deepest trials can say : " Father, remove this bitter cup. If such thy sacred will; If not, content to drink it up, Thy pleasure I fulfill!" VI. What has become of our " spoiled baby," our neighbor- hood nuisance, our troublesome schoolgirl, our ungrateful bride, our torturing wife, our " society woman ? " There is an ugly chrysalis that contains a beautiful bulr terfly, but this butterfly cannot be admired and appreciated until after it breaks forth from its dingy shell. Miss Pet- tie Whimsical's heart has all the time contained a good principle; but it has been so deeply imbedded in self-con- ceit, so thickly covered with humored whims, so securely hedged in by petrified pouts, so firmly walled by stones of self-will cemented with the strongest solution of egotism, that the jewel therein could never be discovered unless that formidable wall should be crushed. The strokes of con- ficience might " tap, tap " forever ; the voice of duty might Unkquali^y Yokkd. 71 cry for admittence; but to no avail. The pleading love of indulgent parents and husband and the heavenly gift of six bright, promising children were insufficient to penetrate the heart wall and let the crown jewel appear. The battering- ram of affliction at last planted itself at the door of that heart and demanded entrance. " Eap, tap, tap., rap ! '* Harder, harder, still harder ! There ! The cement of ego- tism has given way. iN'ow a stone of self-will has been re- moved, now another, and anotber. Those petrified pouts have been melted by the lava of the heart's anguisb ; those humored whims and that self-conceit have been dissolved by tears of regret; and now nothing is in the way and the heart jewel appears. The chrysalis has been opened and the beautiful butterfly has come forth, no longer deserving the name " Pettie Whimsical Indulgence," but " New Eeso- lution." Throughout all these weary years this good man has known that his whimsical wife was fast dragging him down- ward, and often has he kindly told her so; but the only effect was to ruffle her feelings, set her sensitive nature afire, and make her even more disagreeablci. He has long since learned that there is no peace at heart without peace in the household ; so he has been determined to try to gratify every whim as long as financially able; then if he sliould have to fall, she could but fall with him. He would keep her up as long as possible. To keep a wife blinded, or even partially so, as to his financial embarrassment, is a griev- ous mistake made by many a husband, and often witli 72 He;ae.thston£; Echoes. serious results. Frequently when a man of natural spirit and enthusiasm realizes that he is failing as to worldly means, he tries to keep his wife from becoming cognizant of the fact, lest she should be humiliated or feel disap- pointed concerning his ability tO' comply with his youthful vows. She keeps drawing and drawing on his means until she draws the very " lifeblood " out of his purse strings be- fore she is aware of it. If she realized the situation, she, if worthy of the name " wife," or even " woman," would willingly, gladly lessen her claims, sacrifice her avarice, and curtail her expenses, and thus help tO' hold him up out of the quagmire of financial depression. Mrs. Indulgence was not thus deceived. At last, however, under the force of many and varied circumstances, she, like the weary prodigal, " came to herself " — not only to find that she had wasted her substance with riotous living, but had also obscured the light from noble lives. " O that I could live my life over ! " often sighs the truly penitent woman. " How differently would I act ! I would know how to appreciate the self-sacrifice of my fond par- ents, whose delight it was to labor hard that I might have the best advantages. Never would I call them ' old fogies ' and snatch the reins from their hands that I might do as I pleased. I now sadly realize that the course I pursued in girlhood was inclined to bring their gray hairs in sorrow toward the grave. And think of my dear brothers! How 4id they keep from despising me? They humored me; they petted me. I scorned their very indulgence, yet de- Une;qualIvY Yokkd. 73 manded more, still more. If I could live my life over, I would also have more regard for my own health and less regard for the styles that enfeebled my existence. My par- ents warned me; I heeded not. Fashion was my ideal queen; I was her ohedient subject. My parents pictured for me an invalid's couch, with myself as its unfortunate occupant. I laughed them to scorn, and said : ' You know not what you say.' They showed me an image of distress, with shriveled face, disheveled hair, distorted features, brow heavily knit by pain, body stooped by torturing aches, and mind clouded by dread disease. The image stared at me with a ghastly grin that made me shudder. They said that was myself after a few years of imprudence. I turned away in disgust, and told them they were crazy. I also informed them that I was going to follow the dic- tates of my stylish queen and let the future take care of itself. "Again, if I could live my life over, I would not neglect my obedience to my Lord. I would remember my Creator in the days of my youth, while the evil days come not ; I would lean on his strong and willing arm, not only in houra of adversity, but also' in times of temporal prosperity; I would gratefully acknowledge him as the Giver of all good. In early girlhood I had a strong inclination to flee to the good Shepherd ; but as I grew older, I became more and more absorbed in worldly thought. My heart became hard- ened. I loved worldly amusement more than godly gain. Ungrateful creature I ! How has the Lord kept from cast- 74 Hearthstone; Echoes. ing me off, as he did tJie wicked king, among tiie beiast-s of the field ? " If I could live my life over, how differently would I act toward my devoted, indulgent husband, who has wrong- fully sacriiiced his time, his money, his pleasure to com- ply with my unjust demands ! He gave me smiles of affec- tion and words of good cheer ; I gave in retrum cold f lowns of displeasure and humiliating expressions of unkindness. He gave me pure love ; I centered my love in his pockethook. In everything he tried to please me ; in haughtiness of spirit I tried to appear even more displeased than, I really was. How has he endured me all this time ? It is a wonder he has not been driven tO' desperationi ; but, as God's nobleman, he has patiently braved himself against despair, and through all this tort-ure and temptation has remained entirely free from evil habits and rash acts, ^oble man he is! Many a man with similar trials would have sought solace in a gambling crowd or tried tO' drown his trouble in the ine- briate's bowl. God bless the man who has been so true to the unworthy woman who' did not merit his love or esteem ! " Moreover, I would see more closely after my iiouse- hold instead of trusting all tO' careless servants. Our beau- tiful home, with its splendid furnishings, so lovingly pro- vided by my companion, in the days of his youthful pros- perity and happiness, would doubtless now be ours to enjoy, had it not been for my lack of watchfulness, my lack of g;ratitude. Never — no, never — would I commit my tender babes to the care of a thouerhtless nurse: for had not mv Unequai^IvY Yoked. 75 precious baby received that fall which injured her spine, having been left at home with a nurse while I was seeking pleasure in a country drive; had we even been notified of the fall in time to give the proper attention, doubtless the little darling would now be sound and well, in school or playing merrily around the hearthstone. Poor little suf- ferer ! Yet, with all her affliction, she does not give me half the trouble I gave my parents, for she never objects. My other daughter — so young, so attractive, so pure — ^would never have married that drunkard, that desperado, had I made home pleasant. As T think of her humiliation, her distress, hei* torture of body and soul, my heart almost bursts with grief. Think of her in innocent girlhood — by nature beautiful, affectionate, intelligent ; think of her now — a drunkard's wife, dejected, mistreated, in want, miser- able! 1 have watched our homes crumble to ashes; have watched our gold slip unjustly from our fingers ; have suf- fered indescribably from the pangs of affliction ; have seen the skeleton grasp of death seize one of our sweet chil- dren when I was too weak to raise my pillowed head, and when the lifeless little body, dressed in burial robe, was for a moment placed by my side, friends kindly lifted my head that I might imprint a loving, sorrowful, good-by kiss upon the marble lips and cheeks; I have kept almost constant watch over our afflicted little girl; yet all these trials to- gether I count as joy compared with the anguish of soul I have felt concerning our older daughter, who has become the unfortunate victim of a worthless man. Language 76 Hi^ARTHSTONE; ECHOES. would falter and fall wo-unded and defeated if forced to even attempt a true description of her sorrow. Never this side of the dark, deep river will she find relief, and all he- cause I failed tO' do^ my duty as a wife and mother. Re- morse, remorse ! 0, if I had only known — But the past I can never undo ; it is a sealed book, whosei clasp I cannot find. God, forgive! Parents, hroithers, husband, chil- dren, I implore you to forgive ! " I have resolved what I will do : I will arise and go to my Heavenly Father through faith and profound obedience, and henceforth my life shall be consecrated to his service. I will so live as to renew the shattered confidence of my husband and other loved ones; I will live aright. I have sown the seed of discontentment and strifei; it is but just that I shall reap a harvest of anguish. As Byron once said : " ' The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree I planted. They have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.' " I will meekly submit, and will carry the load of grief cheerfully, trying all the time to lighten the sorrows and brighten the lives of others till I am permitted tO' lay my burden at my Savior's feet." She became a thoroughly converted woman. Many — 0, so many! — who make earnest resolves as to better living afterwards retrograde, fall back into^ their old paths ; but not thus with this woman. Abiding by her resolutions, slie |)ecame and remained a humble, obedient " follower' of the Lamb ; " a devoted, practical, happy wife and mother. Une;quai.i,y Yoked. 77 That home looks yerj different now. Poveirty ).'eigns there, but reigns in peace, love, and contentment. Eiches found wings and fast sailed away from where' they did not seem appreciated — so'me flying in one direction; some, in another. A very large per cent sO'Ught in vain toi gi'atify idle whims; part was buried in the ashes of home; part was cruelly caught by the extoirtioner and the monopolist ; while a goodly portion appropriately found lodgment in the homes of physicians, who' faithfully, patiently, and skill- fully watched over the sick and the dying. Their present home is a small rented cottaga Their furniture is plain and somewhat scarred and broken, having been rescued from the last fire (nothing was saved from the two former fires) ; but this is a home noWj for hearts of love are here. It is enough to cheer almost any despondent heart to pass by at eventide and hear that happy family as with the spirit and the understanding they make melody in their hearts by ^^ing- ing: " There is beauty all around. When there's love at home!" There is joy in every sound. When there's love at home. Peace and plenty here abide. Smiling sweet on every side; Time doth softly, sweetly glide. When there's love at home. " In the cottage there is joy, When there's love at home; Hate and envy ne'er annoy. When there's love at home. 78 Hkarthston:^ Echo:^. Roses blossom 'neath our feet; All the earth's a garden sweet, Making life a bliss complete. When there's love at home. "Kindly heaven smiles above. When there's love at home; All the earth is filled with love. When there's love at home. Sweeter sings the brooklet by. Brighter beams the azure sky; O, there's One who smiles on high. When there's love at home." The once invalid motlie'r is now a reasonably strong woman, and has become a willing, industrious home keeper, with the timely aid of Mr. Indulgence and the boys., all hav- ing learned to use the dish rag and yield the broom with be- coming grace. "A charge to keep I have," submissively sings the fond mother, as she so frequently tries in vain tO' attract the attention of the poor little girl who five years ago was so bright, so full of baby life and cheering smiles, but who ever since that time has been as helpless as in her first month's existence and unable to distinguish one friend from another — a helpless, hopeless, mindless charge. During all this time — almost one-fourth of a century — of sad trials, Mr. Indulgence has retained that S'ame mental equilibrium ; that composed, serene disposition ; that sweet spirit of resignation which characterizes the true child of God that he is and has been since his youth. His wife's UNKQUALI.Y Yoked. 79 conscience had been so completely seared over in childhood by whimsical gratifications that nothing short of rough ex- perience seemed able to melt it into submission. Eeader, understand me, please. I do not claim that these trials were sent for that purpose, for frequently the most conse- crated Christians have similar tribulations, as in this in- stance the just had to suffer with the unjust. We can never in this life know exactly how much to attribute to " direct providence," and we should be careful along this line. Some of the thoughts I would like to impress in this little serial are these: The impropriety of overindulgence, the evil of procrastination, the danger of not correcting evil habits, the importance of nipping error in the bud, the evil of ingrati- tude, the need of watchfulness, the peril of neglecting the soul.' When we realize that our hearts are growing hard and cold; when we find that we are inclined to become re- bellious against the right, not fully appreciating the benefits we receive from God and from the loved ones he has given us, let us not wait until some dire calamity shall befall us to' melt our hearts to penitence. Though sweetness often comes forth from bitter, it is not necessary or right for us to create bitter in order to extract the sweetness therefrom. There will doubtless come a time to each of us when we will sadly regret the misspent parts of our existence and would fain recall many of the days and years long since fled ; but— alas !— it will be too late. Youth, take warning! " N^ow is the accepted time." Catch the golden moments as they pass; try to make your 8o Hearthstone Echoes. life like a fair and pleasant day; let the morning' sun of your existence drive away the gloom of night, arise in its noonday splendor to cheer and bless thei world, then gently sink in sublime simplicity beneath the western sea, leaving a brilliant halo to make the world rejoice that yO'U have lived. SHATTERED ROSES. EiGHTY-THEEE milestones have been passed since this lady started across the plains of time, but her love fo^r the beau- tiful has not vanished. Yesterday (September 12, 1896) there was placed in her hands a small box, having been ex- pressed from Marianna, Ark. Those soft, nimble fingers, faithful workers for more than three-fourtbs of a century, were hastened by a mind of curiosity to open the box, when — behold ! — shattered roses, withered flowers, were exposed to view. " Worthless, useless," do you say ? You may think so ; some would thus consider the^m ; but though much of their beauty has vanished, their fragrance departed, to her they retain both. They are emblenis of love fro^m unseen friends, ties tO' draw the heart of this noble woman toward those of her unseen sisters in the great cause she so much loves — the cause of Christ. It is sweet to be remembered by absent friends, and there is a feeling of peculiar appreciation when Icindly consid- ered by those we have never met. This is the feeling now ' in the heart of this good woman, and she would like to ineet Shatte;re;d Roses. 8i those friends and verbally express her gratitude for their loving consideration. Circumstances will do'ubtless forbid this pleasure, but she hopes to meet them over yonder where flowers never wither. Exceedingly fond of flowers, na- ture's little eyes of beauty, she always took special delight in cultivating them until age gently removed the little hoe from her hand. She says persons who care nothing for flowers " do not love our Savior as they sho'uld." I watched her as she carefully, tenderly removed each little beauty from the box. She admired and commented on. all. Then I began to think of the great similarity be- tween flowers and our own lives. God made both, and for a noble purpose. Both can be useful in many ways ; both are frail and tender while very young, and must be ten- derly cared for, but are somewhat " toughened " by the atmosphere and o-ther surroundings ; both require food, wa- ter, light, heat, and air ; both need cultivation, in rich soil, by tender hands of those who' feel for them special interest ; both may be spoiled by neglect, also by overindulgence; both must die — may live to be withered by the frosts of time, may be snatched from the parent stem witho'Ut a. mo- ment's warning. While the bud is yet in its infancy, we can- not tell the color or the properties of the forthcoming flower. So in babyhood ; but as the petals open one by one, wei dis- cern the characteristics of the forthcoming man or woman. In that little box bed of choicest flowers were concealed many thorns. So life's beauties and joys are interspersed with thorns of displeasure as well as with trials many and 82 Hkarthston:^ Echoes. severe. Let us be cautious how we indulge by greedily dipping too deep into life's pleasures and luxuries, lest we are pierced by a thorn of deception. These flowers were apparently ruined, but by means of abundant moisture and fresh air they revived, and this morning many of them look beautiful. Thus human life may appear almost extinct, but by kind attention and medical skill, together with the dews of God's grace, it may revive and be pretty and useful still. When these little beauties of nature shall have all faded and passed away, the memory of them and of the thoughtful donor will still linger fresh in the mind of the receiver; for " You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still " in the form of sweet- memory. So the life of a Christian may fade away, his body may return to mother clay ; yet his works will remain. In the fond memory of loved ones he will still linger, and, although dead, will yet speak. In many respects this lady reminds me of these shat- tered roses. Like them, she has been shaken by the jars of time and of a long, wearisome journey, until her body is naturally somewhat shattered. In the long ago her erect figure, her firm flesh, and her strong muscles indicated more than an ordinary constitution. Her black, curly hair ; sparkling, brown eyes ; features, regular and smooth j complexion, fair and aglow with the roses of health — these ^gave her an attractive appearance, at least to her loved Shattere;d Rose;s. 83 ones ; while she possessed an amiable, sweet disposition that won innumerable friends. In the sick room she had btit few superiors. She was a messenger of love., with willing hands always finding som.ething to do; she was a sunbeam to divert the attention from ailments and calamities; she was as a garland of flowers with good cheer for the suffer- ing, discouraged invalid. Flowers may wilt, but still be fra- grant and their colors bright. This dear old Christian pil- grim's features are somewhat withered by the frosts of more than fourscore winters ; yet her mind remains remark- ably clear; vision, splendid; disposition, sweet and cheery. She grows old gracefully, and is still gentle and lovely — a character to be admired. Time may blight the rose and deprive it of beauty and fragrance, but where it has cher- ished associations it will, like " a flower from an angel moth- er's grave," be prized as a sweet relic of the golden yesterdays. This loving old grandmother may be so blighted by age; ; her step, once so elastic, may become so enfeebled; those eyes,, so dim ; the ears, so " dull of hearing ; " the hair, so bleached; the once erect shoulders, so stooped imder the heavy pressure of years, as to cause her, by some, to be con- sidered homely and useless ; but to the heart of love she is " young and beautiful still." Many, many flowers and buds were tastily arranged in the little box which was opened yesterday — ^far more than we would have thought it could contain. Many — O, so many ! — are the kindly virtues, noble qualities, crowded into the general make-up of this little woman. We did not 84 He;arthston:^ Echoes. realize the beauty of the box until its contents "were closely esamined; likewise, those who know her well are the only ones who can realize her worth. The same can be said concerning any noble, consistent, Christian character. HOW TO BE MISERABLE. Be idle. Why ? Because while " he that labors may be tempted by one demon, he that is idle is tempted by a thousand." Cherish Discontent (oldest child of Idleness). Live always in the " golden past." Worry constantly about " to-morrow." Encourage fretfulness and scolding; for they will never bring out Christian graces, any more than a March north- easter will cause the honeysuckles to bloom. If perchance a spirit of love or kindness springs up with- in your heart, crush it as you would crush a deadly viper. Stir the cup of affection with an icicle. Take no advice ; learn only in the bitter school of expe^ rience. Deal in " futures." Sleep away the best part of the morning, lest you be- come famous; for " The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight; But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night." How TO Bs Miserable. 85 Try to darken, waste, and impair life's best activities. Live for nothing ; have no purpose. Linger near the trap that has once eaisnared you. Be as " moody " as possible. Sit in " grumble comer " night and day, and you will have a genuine attack of heart, fever. Waste your best opportunities, thus securing abundant want. Pine over your losses; magnify your crosses; take no no- tice of your many blessings. Pray without working. Confide in riches. If you make a great mistake, repeat it. Lose command of yourself; then you need not worry about trying to control others. Cleave to that which is evil ; abhor that which is good. Disdain the idea of laboring. Be indolent. True, the door of success is labeled " Push," and Ben. Eranklin says, " Plow deep while slug- gards sleep, and yeu shall have com to sell and keep ; " but take courage, be slothful, and you shall escape the annoy- ance of the sale and the trouble of keeping. Close your eyes to the beautiful; close your ears to the truth. Be like the clematis, which always climbs about on it- self, losing sight of the trellis that supports it. If in doubt, give up in despair. " Industry pays debts, while despair increases them." 86 Hkarthstone Echoes. Be cross while others are pleasant, but never pleasant while others are cross. Watch the man or the woman who fails, then " go, and do thou likewise.*' Carry the key to everybody's business chest. If any one asks you for a favor, give him your fist. If your enemy hunger, curse him ; if he thirst, give him " strong drink." Always practice naughty manners, for " manners make the man." There is always " room at the top ; " sO' stay at the bot- tom, where you will not be alona Crush out and bury sweet memories, and on their grave plant only the bitter seed of doleful bygones. If your parents reprove you for your wrong doings, avoid their society. Object to all your mother, wife, and sister do ; or if you chance to approve of something, be sure not to tell them so. If they ask for your assistance, give them your tongue. When you reach home from work or school, do not for- get to abruptly ask if dinner is ready and if there is fresh water drawn. The complexion of home life depends upon the disposi- tion of the inmates ; sO' be as sour as possible. Strong acid paints home " blue," Keep your mind corrupt by feeding it on froth — by read- ^ ing impure literature. Inasmuch as lieth in you, live " at outs " with all men. How TO BK MISERABI.E. 87 With all your getting, get contention. It is easy to be pleasant when everything goes right. Encourage evil thoughts ; for as a man " thinkeith in his heart, so is he." Always be despondent, and the cobwebs will grow thick over your brain. Cultivate anger; it is a disagreeable feeling, and will greatly aid in rendering yourself and others miserable. Spend half of life soiwing " wild oats ; " the other half will give you employment — reaping the harvest. Become a chronic fault-finder, so you will not have to. " go in a gang by yourself." Use every device to obtain money, for "the shortest cut to poverty is trying to get rich in a hurry." xiscertain what your specialty is, then disregard it and try every other vocation. Always be assured that the wrong ofiicers have been elected. Trust false friends. Like your shadow, they stay by you in sunshine, but forsake you in the shade. Eush headlong through life, forgetting that it is by pa- tience the mulberry leaf is changed to silk. j^ourish the bitter thorns of strife; and wherever you go, scatter thistle seeds. If you suffer financial loss, spend your time moaning and pining over what is gone, never thinking of what is left- Annoy your neighbors with all your troubles ; get them to help to take care of your " family jars." 88 Hkarthstone; Echoe;s. Search younseK for yoair virtues; search your neighbor for his faults. " If at first you don't succeed, try, try " no mO'r©. Live without aim, for a steady purpose is one secret of progress. If you desire anything done, go to the man of leisure, for he never has time for anything. Always have the " blues," and divide them with eveiry- body around you. Think and talk about how much worse the world is be- coming. Study much about things you want, but cannot obtain. If you hear anything good about your neighbor, deny it. Sponge on your friends and relatives; they will not see you starve. Ben. Franklin says : " To be thrown upon one's resources is to be cast into the very lap of Fortune.'' So be sure not to rely on yourself, and you can easily keep out of Fortune's lap. If you can do nO' deed except a good one, do nothing; if you can speak naught but a kind word, remain silent; if nothing but pure thoughts flit through your mind, put your brain to sleep. Shun education and morality; they are forces that heilp to move the world. Frequent the saloons ; carry with you a diploma from the rum shop — a red nose. Stand in your own light and fight your own shadow. Object evermore; pout without ceasing. How TO Bk Miserable. 89 Ben. rranklin suggests : " If a man empties his purse into his head, no one can take it from him." Empty yours into your throat. Wear a long face; refrain from smiling. Spend a little faster than you make. The way you spend your income is an index to your financial hrain. Lavishly spend all your dimes, and your dollars will not trouble you. Let your expenses always exceed your income. If your salary is small, spend it in fast living; if you receive only four cents a day, spend five cents. Light your money in the end of a cigar. Wear your best clothes every day, and perhaps some one will be silly enough to think fine clothes make a fine " gen- tleman." " If sinners entice thee, consent thou " in all things. xlvoid instruction^ for " whoso' laveth instruction loveth knowledge." If you have nothing to say, say much ; for " even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding " (Prov. 17: 28); and "whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue Jieepeth his soul from troubles " (Prov. 21: 23). If you have a good reputation, cry it down. You can crush it in a little while, but it will take years to regain it. In those quiet, serious moments that come to all of us, study all about how sad your condition is and how gloomy your prospect. 90 Hkarthstone Echoes. " Creeds are narrow ; truth is wide." So select some narrow, shaky plank of opinion, only broad enough for " you and your wife ; your son, John, and his wife — you four, and no more," and walk thereon until you fall hence. When you awake in health, always forget to thank your God. Pray for daily breads then wait for the eorn to come to you already " shelled." Disregard the laws of nature and of God, then censure Heaven for letting you suffer the penalty. Consider everything on earth impure, and Heaven will have no use for you. Observe these simple rules and " apply externally, inter- nally, and eternally," and I will guarantee them to perma- nently cure the malady of happiness or contentment. For reliable testimonials, apply to Mr. Talk And Do Nothing, Grumble Corner, Misery; also to Miss Tonguie See Bonnyface, 13 Disconsolate avenue, Tattler's Bend, Idleho. Por further information, inclose a two-cent stamp for free samples and catalogue of particulars to the firm of Do Little & Steal, Pouting Furnace, Loafer County, U- make-us-go. In spoiling a girl, you make trouble for her husband ; in spoiling a boy, you make trouble for his wife. This trouble will be realized by and by. Forest JeweivS. 91 FOREST JEWELS, The forests seem vain of their glory to-day. Tliey stand out on dress parade, sporting ^vith the sunbeams. Each tree is arrayed in brightness., each bough weighted down with little jewels of sparkling brilliancy. Yesterday and to-day the wind and sunshine have been striving for the mastery, the sunshine trying to melt these jewels into tears, and the north wind consolidating them, con- densing the tears into' sparkling beads, which, like diamonds, reflect the sun's bright rays. The forests stand-in shining array, each tree stiffening itself as if proud of its jeweled tresses ; but though this crystal drapery is showy and beau- tiful, it is cold and disagreeable — kept so by winter^s chilly breath — while the cheerful, sunny-faced day king would fain relieve the trees of their icy mantle and rob© them with foliage tender and green. We have many bright-eyed " little jewels " in our homes, our schools, our Sunday schools — jewels of worth, fast dcr veloping into diamonds of grandeur' that shine resplendent in Heaven's true light. Let us learn a lesson from the little icicle, the crystal pendant of the forest. While King Winter is preparing his subjects for their icy garments, he deprives them, leaf by leaf, of their beautiful robes of gold and green ; so while the proud heart is preparing itself for vain display of gold and precious stones, it gradually lays aside its vestures of holiness, then dons those of visible splendor. Again, when the warming beams of the morning sun begin to shine upon 92 Hearthstone Echoes. the ice-crowned trees, we see proud nature's tears begin to fall; then, one hj one, the icicles, whether pearly heads or glittering spears, will loose their hold and fall to the ground. Likewise^ when the Sun of Eighteousness pours his healing beams through the gospel into the heart of nature's wayward child, some of the vain display of this world will fall, like cold and weighty icicles ; the remainder, as tears of penitence; and he will turn his weary, wandering, trem- bling feet toward the Father's house. Let us ever keep our hearts open to the reception of God's truth and grace; let these melt the icicles clinging to our cold and weak natures, warm our affections, encourage us, and impress us anew with a realization of our own dependence and with a deeper, stronger, truer love for God and for earth's weary pilgrims to the " summer land." LIFE— WHAT IS IT? You quickly say it is nothing but a flower or a song; that as a " flower of the grass," it soon withers ; that as a song, it is wafted away on the evening breeze. Then if it is a flower, let it be the rose of happiness, the lily of purity, or the dandelion — the pledge of blithesome May; nourish it, cherish it, train it, that it may bloom in beauty here and finally be transplanted in the " garden of delights." If it is a song, keep your voice clear and soft, and sweetly sing 'it to the tune, " Praise God, from Whom All Blessings Flow." lyiFB — What Is It? 93 Tou believe it is more like a haleidoscope. Close your eyes to everything else, turn it in every direction, and each, angle will present new beauties. You say it is only a huhhle floating on the bosom of time's turbulent sea. Then, ere it bursts, throw on the light and let the bubble reflect the hand of divinity. You compare it to a vapor, a span, " a tale that is told." As a vapor, let it carry the fragrance of loving-kindness to the sin-sick soul ; as a span, reach across it with the hand of charity ; as " a tale that is told," may it b© the same " old, old story of Jesus and his love." You now regard it as a composite tiling — a kind of mo- saic. Then select such precious stones as humility, kind- ness, integrity, sympathy, patient endurance', fidelity, and charity, and arrange the (folors to spell the words " God is love." You call it a play on the great stage of action. Then play your part well. Do not, by your awkwardness or lack of skill, make your Trainer ashamed of you. The time of aetion is short ; the effect may be unlimited. " God is the Author; men are only players. These grand pieces which are played upon earth have been composed in heaven." I*Tow you are considering life as a pilgrimage or journey. How unwise you are, then, if you stray from the right road and do not return till the twilight shadows gather thick and dark around your pathway ! However, if numb and weary on the mountain you have to sleep in the snow, try to warm 94 Hearthstone) BcHo:es. that freezing form beside you, and thus you will both, be benefited. You say it is a wilderness^ and you sing: " This world's a wilderness of woe." If you think thus, you should carry with you the torchlight of immortality, that you may keep' out of the marshes and jungles and carefully avoid the pitfalls by the^ way. You say it is a desert^ with blazing sun and scorching sands. Look ! Yonder is an enticing oasis, yonder is an- other, and still another. Go tO' them for rest and comfort., and there slake your mental thirst. You say it is a dark, dismal cloud. Look for its silvery lining. "Alas, what a heavy hurden is life ! " you dolefully cry. Then lighten it and brighten it as much as possible by cast- ing off the superfluities. Assist your neighbor in bearing his burden, and God will help you to bear yours. Patiently carry it to him who' in tears and blood has traveled the samie road; humbly and prayerfully lay it at his feet; do' as he directs, and he will give you rest. " Life is a fearful storm/' you say. How little infatu- ated you are if you can sleep while your bark is being driven amidst unknown waters ! Listen to the tempest's voicei, and see the lightning's fiery tongue' flash athwart the heave^ns ! Arise, go and kneel on " Calvary's bleeding brow," place your hands together above your bowed head, and meekly sina: : lyiPK — What Is It? 95 " Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in ttee." What is life ? You sa j it is a little rivulet flowing down a mountain side over rocks and tlirougli deep gorges. Then, as you float down the stream, fringe its banks with flowers ; sow them thick with seeds of loving-kindness. As a hroad, deep ocean you see it now. Be a lighthouse, so that when the storm-tossed mariner is " rocked upon the raging billows " you may warn him of thei deadly breakers. Your vision has suddenly contracted. You now see life as nothing more than a small, pale, delicate plant. Then remove it from the hothouse of your narrow opinions ; give it the air and sunlight of God's truth ; let it be watered by the gentle dews of his grace; do not suffer it to be crowded Avith worthless weeds of worldly ambition to steal away its richest soil; forget not tO' fertilize it with the Christian graces. ^ow you say it is a garden or parh. True ; and it con- tains not only its " tree of the knowledge of good and evil," but its forbidden fruit as well. It is both an, Eden and a Gethsemaneu It is a candle^ you have decided. Place it not " un- der a bushelj" neither behind a screen of gold, but upon a " candlestick ; " then with it " search diligently " until you find some "lost coin" (lost soul), thus making the angels rejoice. It is an liourglass. Well, " life is not measured by the time we live," but by the good we do. " He lives twice 96 Hearthstone Echoes. who lives the first life well." As one by one the little grains of sand pass through the glass, let them sparkle with deeds of kindness and love. It is a tangled skein. Then " let patience have her per- fect work." ISi'ow it is more like a hall of yarn. Are yon not busy knitting ? " Click, click ! " go your needles. Stitch by stitch your work is finished. Your ball will soon be un- wound. See that your work is not rough and knotty. May your thread prove smooth and strong all the way through, not wound on a large center (heart) of worthless material. Such is the hypocrite's ball. Now it is a mixture — a regular " bittersweet." Give thanks to God for the sweet, and with it try to sweeten the bitter. Life is an echo. Then use words and tones you will not object to having repeated. Do not let the echo be like the sob of a mighty sea, but like an angel's song of peace and good will. It is a phonograph. Are you willing for your life work to be preserved and given over and over to the promiscuous world ? "Now it is a kind of ore — a peculiar composition of gold and silver, iron and clay: and Tennyson says: "And heated hot with burning fears, And dipped in baths of hissing tears. And battered with the shocks of doom. To shape and use." lyii^E — What Is It? 97 With chisel and file shape it as nearly like the divine im- age as you can, then leave it in the hands of the great Sculp- tor. " Tie will treat you right." " ' Life is but an empty dream,' " you have decided. Then feast on wholesome spiritual food, so the dream will not end in a frightful nightmare. " It is merely a sliadow," some one has whispered to you. Then stand not in the light of those who want to see, but stand where you can screen some one from the parching rays of persecution. But your vision has again expanded. You are now gaz- ing at a great menagerie composed of persons whose natures represent all kinds of animals. Then you be sure to keep on the plain of the highest ones. Do not cultivate the cat and dog nature — sly and stealthy or ready to bite, scratch, or snarl on the slightest provocation. Be not the parrot^ — ^ merely an echo or imitator — ^with noi ideas of your own; nor the stupid sponge, firmly stationed on«the rock of do- nothing, absorbing all you can and keeping all you get; nor yet the vulture, always seeking that which is unclean and disagreeable. Be not the terrapin, carrying all your pos- sessions on your back. Be not the monkey — merely a shrewd beggar, though a fine mimic ; nor the swine, caring only for what you consume ; neither the stinging wasp of scandal nor the kicking mule of stubbornness. By no means be the porcupine, with quills of sensitiveness projecting in every direction, ready to pierce even your very best friends. " Beware of dogs," '"' neither cast your pearls 98 Hbarthstons Echoes. before swine; " try to induce " the lion and the lamb " to be congenial. Be the ingenious ant, laying up your win- ter store at the proper time; and the gentle dove, carrying in your mouth the olive branch of peace instead of the tongue of slander. By all means avoid being the " dog in the man- ger " or a " wolf in sheep's clothing." You represent life as a great canvas. See that it is stretched smoothly on a substantial frame^ and you can paint thereon a superb picture ; learn tO' mix your colors to advantage and handle your brush with skill and grace ; bring out your high lights, deepen your shadows, then usei your blender to soften the effect; let the frame be oak or wal- nut, bronze or gold; and when your painting is finished, it will be left hanging in the hall of your friends' memory to remind them that your life was not a failure. You say it is a circle of seasons. Spend the balmy springtime sowing the seed from which you desire tO' reap a bountiful harvest in summer and autumn; then in winter you will enjoy the golden fruits ; and, having completed the circle, you will enter the spring of another existence. You si>eak of it as a succession of hills and valleys. Climb the hills patiently, and the task will be easy. Many of the tallest mountains are only imaginary difficulties which vanish on approach. While you are in the valley, look upAvard for the stars. But you are older now, and you view life as more real. You see in it much to do. You compare the world to a schoolroom, a workshop, a beehive, an art gallery. Then, with Life;— What" Is It? 99 Christ as your teacher, try to properly educate your heart ; and be a student, not metrely a school goer. Keep your tools bright by use; let them, not rust in the tool chesti. B© a working bee, not the despised drone to be stung fro^m; the hive in derision. See, by all means, that you make a good negative; then test your proof; see that it brings out the proper expression; use reliable chemicals and good mate- rial all the way through ; and neglect not to give your pic- ture the proper " finishing touch." Now you are looking at life as a building. Very well. If you will lay an imperishable foundation, usei none but the best material^ see that the work is well done, then keep it well insured in the never-failing company of Heaven, your house will stand the storms of tima You speak of the mystic loom of life, and say we are all weavers. Select a suitable design and imitate it, using col- ors that will not fade; for, as suggested by the sweety but lamented, writer, "Ailenroc," " When the day is done^ the loom is still, And the arm no longer obeys the will; When the nerveless hands the shuttles drop And the tired feet the treadles stop — Then, before the Master's eyes, unrolled, Lies the long day's work heaped fold on fold." YoTi say it k a race, like that of Olympia. Then " lay aside every weight, . . . and run with patience.' The victor's rtward shall be a Grown — not here, but at the end of the race; not of withering olive leaves, but of life evermore. L. Oi V, loo He^arthstone; Echoes. Bj this time experience has convinced you that life is a iaftle. Then, my comrade, up and doing, With bright armor — sword and shield! Still aspiring, still pursuing. Drive the foe from every field. Arm yourself well for the conflict. Do' not shrink back into your tent while the battle is raging, neither try tO' hide when your name is called on the muster roll. Stand firm at your post of duty. Lift your' head and gird yourself for brave and cheerful toil. March when your Commander says, " Go ; " stop at his command ; fire when he says., "Fire ; " "ground arms " and put your sword into its sheath at his liidding. Be sure you have enlisted in the right army, and keep on the proper uniform, lest you be mistaken for the enemy, l^eveir prove traitor. Use proper weapons, then beware lest you fire at the wrong party. " Stonewall " Jackson was sorely wounded by his own men, who almost worshiped him, which injury probably led tO' his death. Many unconsciously fight and spiritually wound valiant soldiers in the Lord's army, when they really believe they are fighting Satan and his host. Lee spoke of it as losing his own right arm when Jackson fell. Thus our great Co'm- mander claims the injury when his soldiers are maftreated " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? " As a good " sol- dier of the cross," avoid rashness ; consider well ; be vigi- lant ; be brave ; be faithful. Then, after the hardships of war are over, your rest will be sweet; your glory, bright after the darkness is past; your victory, grand after the Filling the Grave. ioi conflict is over. " There are victories to be won more glo- rious than those of the historic fields of the world's con- flict— evil habits to be subdued, passions to be overcome, temptations to be resisted, and life consecrated tO' noble pur- pose." Avoid all warfare that brings carnage and blood- shed, but bravely fight in the army of the Lord. You speak of it as a watchtower. Then, " watchman, what of the night ? " At last you think of life as one brief day. Then, for humanity's sake, place in it as little clond and as much shine as possible. Life's sun, sinking in the west, " shines back on clouds unremoved and intensifies their blackness; but good deeds, spots of radiance, are even brighter because of his searching beams. Do not blacken the morning sky with evil deeds; do not^ after a glorious morning, cut off the sun in his noonday splendor ; do' not, after a fine morn- ing and glorious noonday, place along the evening horizon a somber cloud to o-vershadow those who have been watch- ing yonr life with such intense anxiety, pleasure, and hop©." '' Dost thou love life ? Then squander not time, for that is the stuff life is made of." FILLING THE GRAVE. Much has been justly said and written concerning the large, warm heart of the Irishman — of his devotion and fidelity to those he loves. Live worthy of his esteem, and as a rule, he will almost die by you. I02 Hearthstone; Echoes. More than two decades ago one of Ireland's native sons, Mr. John Patterson, was employed by an old gentleman I well knew to do some farm work. He was alone and de- jected, thousands of miles from home and relatives. The blue Atlantic — so broad, so deep — lay between him and the home of his youth. All his near relatives, except one sis- ter, slept beneath British soil. He was among strangers, without money^ and in feeble health. But the friendly steamer that landed him safe on America's soil did not fail to bring with him that large, faithful Irish heart, which soon won for him many friends. He became devoutly at- tached to the noble elderly couple who had shared with him their splendid, comfortable, and hospitable home, and he loved each member of the family. For a little grandson of theirs, then a wee infant^, he soon began to manifest fond attachment, which grew stronger with the passing years. He would gladly linger in the grove around the country church and " take care of the baby " during services. When this babe was a little less than two years old, his friend was caring for him during the services of a protracted meet- ing, and one day let him go to see what he would do. The wee one quickly started toward home, not knowing he was so closely watched. After some distance the road diverged into three. The boy paused, turned this way and that, quickly surveyed the three roads, looked very serious for a moment; then, with a look of assurance, a brightened countenance, and quickened step, he started homeward, to the great delight of his kind watcher, who thought it marvel- Filling the Grave. 103 ous that his little charge could know which road he was in the habit of traveling. By this time the vigilant friend had permitted the child tO' get a good way ahead of him, and, being very feeble, found it rather difficult to overtake him. So he spoke excitedly to a man who was passing on a mule, " Head that boy ! " which request was readily granted. At any time when this child would see Mr. Patteirson re- turning from work, he, with ready little feet and with chubby, dimpled hands uplifted, would run tO' meet him at the front gate, his prattling tongue joyfully exclaiming : " 0, Pash ! Pash ! " I*^o matter how far the man. had walked or how hard and rough had been his work, he was never too tired to take the child into his arms, carry him into the house, and entertain him with a little fond play. Years have sped away. Fleet-winged time has wro'Ught many changes. Two other little jewels were set. in that family ring. Years after this the ring was broken, and the first jewel dropped out. That boy was there no' longer to brighten the lives of his parents, grandparents, or his good old friend. iN'ear the same countiy church, two miles from that loved old home, to-day (February 1, 1902) a white mantle let down from the clouds keeps the cold north wind from his lowly bed in the " silent city," and a marble shaft tells us where his body lies, while loved ones sadly miss him from the fireside. The devotion of this Irish friend had grown stronger and stronger, and was much appreciated by the boy and his par- I04 Hearthstone; Kchoss. ents. After tlie little moiind was raised^ this man toiiicli- ingiy said to the weeping parents : " Yon need not be afraid of that grave's being neglected while I live." His word has proved true, as it always does. Month after month, year after year, he has carried his shovel two miles, filled every sunken portion of the grave, and watched after it with proverbial devotion. His long-continued attention is suffi- cient to cause others to say: "'Behold how he loved him !'" Sometimes the gentle zephyrs fan the cedars that wave over the inclosure', the mocking bird sings praises therei, and the lark warbles a welcome to its mate' ; sometimes the dewdrop paints a little rainbow and throws kisses at the morning sun; sometimes the drought parches the clay lips that seal from human sight the once stalwart figure of that boy; but this same faithful watcher carries the key to the iron gate and forgets not his charge. The bodies of the dear old couple he so much loved now sleep in the same family inclosure ; and their graves, as well as those of th.eir de- parted children, are cherished, filled, and guarded by him with the same tender love. Sometimes frost nips the buds, paints the foliage, and drives the birds to the far-away sunny Southland^ while on that hillside " the seeds of the future are sleeping under the leaves of the past; " but those hallowed mounds are not neglected. Sometimes when even the rippling streams are frozen over and the trees are brown and bare, he rides through bleak forest and barren meadow from the dear old cottage home to the churchyard to see if the graves need care. Pay Day. 105 When his earth life^ shall be ended^ when those industri- ous hands shall have grasped for the last time their shovel and spade, when his woTn-out body shall be sleeping on the same quiet hillside, may some thoughtful friend be left to see that his " grave is kept green : " for hard indeed is the heart, that would neglect him. If living, I want to claim the pleasure of assisting in at least raising a marble shaft in his memory over his grave as near as possible to the graves he has so long and so tenderly watched. For many years he has been a faithful soldier of the cross, keeping his armor far brighter than many with bet- ter advantages. We trust that he will live prepared for the blessed land that needs no graves. PAY DAY, Yes^ pay day is coming by and by. How does your ac- count stand? Have you had a reckoning? If you neglect this duty, you will be astonished when you go to make a set- tlement. Unless you keep a regular memorandum, your account will be greater than you think. How many times have you ever found it less than you expected ? How often have you found it greater ? Occasionally our good and reliable merchants make a slight mistake, which they will as readily rectify when their attention is called thereto ; but, as a rule, the error is ours. It is often hard for us to distinguish between our needs and cur wants ; so we many times buy articles we do not espe- io6 Hkarthstone Echoes. cially need, and which, thereif ore, make no vivid impression on our minds. Soon we forget having bought them; and when pay day comes and our attention is called to these little items, we are sometimes inclined to doubt the cor- rectness of the statement ; but on careful reflection, by look- ing over the list and observing the date of purchase, we, after a while, slowly and almost reluctantly call it to mem- ory, and find that the merchant was only faithful to his trust. A greater pay day is coming before long ; and while we have time and opportunity, we had better be examining the accounts and ascertaining how our records stand. Have we kept a faithful memorandum ? If not, we may be sure there is more charged against us than we imagine. Per- haps we have thoughtlessly purchased things just because we desired them and for which we had no special need ; per- haps we did not even ask the price, but simply permitted the merchant to charge them to our account. When pay day comes, we may find that they were more costly than we expected, and were probably not genuine articles. We thought they were " solid metal," but we now ascert.ain that they are only plated with silver and gold, and endure but for " a season ; " yet we must pay the full price. Young lady, for a long time you have been going to the store and purchasing little articles, with the understanding that " papa will make it all right " with the merchant ; but there is one account against you which your father cannot settle. It is your sin account. You must pay that account yourself, Pay Day. 1^7 and no rednction whatever will be made in consequence of its being " yon." Yonng man, yonr father has been " standing good" for jou in yonr idle " trades." He has paid ont many hard- earned dollars to get yon ont of tronble ; he has settled many a store account and livery bill that y6u should not have in- curred, rather than have his boy entangled in the litigation of the country. At that great reckoning your good old fa- ther cannot stand between you and the Judge. Man, when you left those little children at home begging for food, clothing, and education, and that humble, faithful wife coaxing and pleading with you to stay with her and the little ones-I say, when you left them last night and went " up tow " and bought that jug of intoxicating fluid, did you ask its cost? Did the rumseller give you the price in dollars and cents ? If so, he deceived you. Its price can- not be thus estimated. To the value he placed upon it you may add hungry children's pleadings, good wife's prayers and tears, your own mental depression and spiritual decline. This will still be a low estimate to place upon it, for it may cost you far more than this, and yon may have to pay the full price — your own soul. Thus with all our rude, wicked pleasures. They may be gold-tinted, but are not genuine; they are only gilded with the brilliancy of frivolity, which corrodes as soon as exposed to the lii-ht of candid investigation. Our faithful Judge sits enthroned on high and makes no mistakes. It is much safer to "count the cost" and "pay as you go." Then io8 Hearthstonjs EcHo:es. when the time comes to " balance accounts/' you will feel siTch sweet relief by hearing: "Well donei, tho'U good and faithful customer ! Your account is settled ; you owe noth- ing. Moreover, this firm, kindly offers a magnificent pre- mium to those who purchase their goods and pay promptly. That premium is a crown of fadeless glory tO' be worn in the eternal paradise of God. Such is yours. Go to your reward." THE PROOF SHEET, Frequently when an article fro^m my pen appears in print, I am shocked^ mortified, and almost horrified at the errors I detect — ^mistakes in spelling, punctuation, or con- struction; mistakes I would gladly correct, if possible'^ be.- fore they meet the reader's eye. Sometimes these mistakes have been made by the publisher; sometimes, by myself; for both parties are human and liable to err. I would al- ways gladly read the proof sheet and correct the errors, but seldom have this privilege^ The errors goi before the pub- lic, and are often placed to my credit, whether justly so or not It is thus in life. We make many mistakes ; many others are made against us. Many of the mistakes we make we fail to realize at the time; many of those made against us we could probably correct if we knew it in time. We cannot possibly obtain a glance at the proof sheet, cannot republish the work of an hour or a moment ; so the record goes before the public. Each day is a page, and at dawn it is blank, pure. Thk Proof Sheet. 109 white. On it we write, either for weial or for woe:. While writing, we should remember that we cannot seei the proof sheet ; therefore we should not use puzzling hieroglyphics, which might be incorrectly and mysteriously deciphered, but should writ© in an immistakable hand and have our ideas so clear as to be distinctly understood. The printer may innocently make mistakes (tO' err is hu- man). Many times we cast merciless reflections on an in- experienced printer for liis typographical errors. Think how many little pieces of type are picked up and an^anged in preparing each column for the press ! ISTo' wonder mis- takes are mada You and I might not do half so well. We should try it and see before we say too much. The very easiest work is to find fault, and the severest critics are often the ones who, know the least, especially about the subject considered. The school-teacher is unduly criticised, espe- cially by some who have never taught; the young, inex- perienced Christian is often condemned by those not doing half so well ; the preacher is censured by some who do' not know in which Testament to look for the book of Komans. If these unjust critics would only correct their thoughts. — the " proof sheet " of their rough comments — before the harsh words escape their lips, what relief ! The printer should remember that a blemish on his pa- per, a misspelled word, an incorrect verb, or even, an in- verted letter, will attraet more attention than many letters and words in their proper attitude. Likewise, we who wear the name of Christ should remember much is expected of no Hearthstone; Echoes. us, and any misstep or inconsistent act will attract more attention and receive more comment than many deeds of righteousness. Both should be careful to make as few blunders as possible. The publisher has one great advan-, tage, however : he can inspect all his work ; and, if he tries, he can correct his inaccuracies before they are brought to the public gaze; whereas in outer life our maneuvers are frequently made known, to otliers as readily as tO' ourselves. In our private meditations we should change, modify, and correct our formulated plans, and thus save ourselves muck trouble. The publisher should not claim to do good work unless capacitated and determined tO' do sot A man should not claim to be a first-class worker in the great vineyard unless his work will justify the " well done." "We usually know where we can have good printing done — by the samples sent forth ; we usually know where to find genuine Christians — " By their fruits ye shall know them." In this life we may be held responsible for errors made by others. Many an innocent man has gone to the gallows or the guillotine; many martyrs, in consequence of fidelity to^ their God, have been consumed by the maddening flames or tortured at the Bridge of Sighs. The innocent Son of Mary was nailed to the cross in consequence of the mistakes of others. But let us not be discouraged. The great Keeper of life's rec- ord makes no mistakes. His publishing apparatus is al- ways in perfect order; his mind, always clear. Hence the record will be true to life. If we could only be permitted How Ark You Buii^ding? hi to glance at tlie proof sheets of our characteirs ; if we could "see ourselves as others see us" and as we are viewed hj the all-seeing Eje, doubtless many times we would blusk and as many times turn pale, weep, and plead mth the record- ing angel to let us correct our blunders; but doubtless ho would calmly reply : " Your thoughts served as proof sheets for your characters; why did you not correct before send- ing to press ? You had a perfect model ; why did you not imitate it ? " HOW ARE YOU BUILDING? I. Intkoductoey illustration : Building a House. Consider the plan, material^ cost (weigh your pocket- book) ; employ workmen or a contractor; have a written agreement ; let the work begin. 1. Foundation. Consider its importance; dig deep — down below the " frost line; " lay the foundation on solid clay or rock ; make a firm support for the superstructure — • a foundation " sure and steadfast," a foundation able to stand the fury of storms and sweeping floods. 2. Framework. Select only strong, sound, solid mate- rial ; then see that all parts are well braced, 3. Carefully measure each piece of material. 4. Have all the work well done, leaving no " loose screws," no crevices to be hidden by additional molding. 5. See well to the covering; let it turn both rain and snow. 112 Hearthstone Echoes. 6. Look after the heating capacity. See to the chimneys and flues; let them not be mere smokestacks; they should both draw well and throw out heat. 7. Let the painting be well done, so' that the building will not soon become weather-beaten. Consider durability as well as appearance. 8. Pay the workmen or the contractor not in prom^ises alone; you are not satisfied with pro^mised work. 9. Use taste and skill in furnishing your house^ Har- mony between house and contents should be considcired. 10. Have the house and the furnishings well insured; compare companies, and patronize the one you believe most reliable. 11. Keep your dues thoroughly paid up; yet. try to pro- tect the property from damage. Do not be careless because of insurance. II. God has wisely constructed for each of us a house — ^the body, which is the temporal palace of the soul. He is the great Architect. He has ''■' counted the cost ; " he has wisely planned the structure, " like unto himself " — hence " up to date," of good material, adapted to his purpose ; he has laid the proper foundation ; he has executed his plans in ways satisfactory to reasonable and uncomplaining mor- tals, but best understood by himself ; he has selected strong, durable material (bones) for the framework; and he has wisely protected all the delicate parts (eyes, lungs, etc.) by proper bracing and projections. Each piece is meas- How Are; You Building? 113 ured, is an exact fit. This great Arcliitect does joint work — makes no mistakes. Wlien mistakes are made, some other agency is at fault. The building is now well finished, and he has placed fire therein, has tested it, has breathed into the nostrils the breath of life. He has painted the building, has tinted it with the glow of health; he has inhabited it with a living spirit — the man proper. Kow, having done his work well and provided all kinds of material, he leaves man to furnish the building accord- ing to his own taste. He has placed before him the good, the bad; the wholesome, the poisonous; the elevating, the degrading; the perfect, the deformed; the beautiful and sublime, the homely and ridiculous ; also dirt, in mournful abundanca Each piece of material is labeled and its qual- ities are described. Full and free, instructions are given as to how the building can be fitted up for the happiness and well- being of its possessor, also for his misery and destruction. So if man selects the wrong furnishings, he alone is to be censured. God does not force him to select the best; for this would depriye him of volition, without which man would not be man. III. Character building is only furnishing the house we live in, the structure God has erected as the temporal residence of the soul. An ideal character is pictured out before us. We have explicit directions for imitating him, and the ma- terial is supplied. 114 Hkarthstone; Echoes. In arranging a room, Ave do not first crowd it with heavy furniture, which will have to be lifted or rolled from place to place while we spread, stretch, and tack down the- carpetw "We first carefully put down the carpet, see that it is straight and free from wrinkles^ then bring in and arrange the other articles according to taste and convenience. ITeither do we fill the apartment with articles which are not only ex- pensive, but also useless, ugly, unclean ; which will not only soil our apparel and other things coming in contact with them, but will endanger our health, our intellects, our morals. In establishing a character, dig deep; lay a solid foun- dation on the bed rock of sincerity — ^not on the shaky, miry quicksands of doubt and fickleness. Spread your carpet carefully ; stretch out the wrinkles of skepticism, and hypoc- risy ; see that it is straight and smooth ; then make it secure. Kow bring in your furniture, gracefully arrange your drapery, and decorate your walls. The inhabitant of this wonderful character structure, also, is permitted to select for himself. Before him, side by side, are placed good and evil — the tree of life and the fruit forbidden. Of which "will he partake ? One is labeled, " Eat and live forever; " the other^ " In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." In other words, bountiful material is at his door, both good and bad. He may fill his house with the choicest articles, and be happy and useful ; or he may fill it with vile rubbish, and be miserable throughout time and eternity. He may choose as he will. Which do you think the man will select ? Before him are placed humility, love. How Are You Buii bly, and roaches and crickets are frequently found nib- bling at them. Occasionally it becomes necessary to re- move some of the worst bricks and fill their places with others. Be assured, kind reader, that if your spiritual char- acter is composed of soft, half-burned, or porous bricks, containing too much of the weaker minerals or alkalis ab- sorbed from the earth, the crickets and roaches of tempta- tion, persecution, and reproach will continually nibble at you, until, particle at a time., you fall, and great will be the fall. Such material scarcely ever falls a whole brick at a time, but crumbles away, little by little, always giving an appearance of dilapidation. Sometimes its infection seems How Are You Building? 137 to he spreading and affecting the adjoining bricks, in which, case it is gently, but necessarily, removed and other mate- rial substituted. Too many whose names are enrolled as spiritual builders seem to regard their edifice complete as soon as the founda- tion is laid. Imagine a man living in a house ( ? ) with only a floor — no walls, no roof, no furniture ! When the July sun, with its yellow beams, shall scorch his cheeks and almost boil the blood in his veins; when the floods shall come and the cold rain shall fall in torrents on him ; again, when December shall hiss with its northern breath; when great ice stones shall pelt him from the lowering clouds; when a thick, snowy mantle shall wrap him close, as in a Avinding sheet, then — 0, then — will he realize his error and will try to complete his house ; but too late, too late ! 'No spiritual Avork avails anything unless built on the foundation Eock. Again, this Eock alone is not sufficient Imagine a man going to judgment with a foundation and no building or with a building having no foundation ! If our destiny is already eternally fixed, we can do noth- ing; therefore we should not be held responsible. If all will be saved regardless of action, why try to do anything be- yond fulfilling moral requirements ? Again, why admonish us to stand firm, " be steadfast, immovable," to be careful lest we fall ? But the Lord says : " Hear and do." He also says : "xill that are in the graves shall . . . come forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection 138 Hsarthstone; Echoes. of damnation." He also says: "Depart," "Vengeance," etc., because they have done nothing; " Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yonr own selves." Let lis all see that we have selected the proper foiunda* tion — Christ; let us wisely build thereon according to di- vine directions. Then, when our spiritual edifice is com- pleted, we can step from its highest pinnacle — home. X. Boys, girls, you are erecting character structures day by day. As the quiet moments build the years, so your every- day actions build your character. You are building intel- lectually, morally, spiritually — building for eternity. Yours may be a castle grand Or a wreck upon the sand. " Then build it clean and high and broad; Build it for the eye of God." " When a mason builds a Avail, tlie course of bricks he laid yesterday is the foundation on which he is laying an- other course to-day." Likewise, what you build on your character walls to-day serves as the basis on which tO' place tor-morrow's work. God has kindly given each of you a nice little cottage of your own, far more valuable than a brick or stone palace. It is a convenient house, with room? suited to all the virtues and accomplishments necessary to make you happy and useful. It has rooms especially adapted to virtue, justice, and truth ; for these little " dei- ties of life " will need to hold many private counsels in How Ark You Buii^ding? 139 solving the problems of your conduct-. They should have large, free rooms in the heart of every boy and girl, and it is not a safe young man or young woman who will bar or lock the heart's door against them. I said you were build- ing character. You are either building or tearing dovm. Which are you doing ? Eeflect a moment. Within the last year or two have you formed any habit that is useless and even in the slightest degree demoralizing? If so, right now have the manly heroism to lay it aside. You are doubt- less to some extent its master now ; but if you do not crush it, it will be your master by and by. Is your character bet- ter or worse than it was one year ago ? Are you trying hard to improve it or carelessly permitting it to go down ? Are you trying to become a man or a nothing ? If you strive earnestly for nobility of character, you will not fail of your reward. The good of earth will either love or detest the habits you are forming. Which shall it be? With tem- poral blessings and with God on your side, you are his mil- lionaires. Then take advantage of this, and be something. Do not let your character house be an empty shell. You can make it either a prison from whose gloom you cannot escape or a vast palace filled with all that can delight. If it is now a desirable palace, you can cause it to lose some of its bright coloring and gilding every day until naught will remain but faded remnants of its pristine beauty. On the other hand, if your life thus far has been only a kind of prison — an abode of gloom — ^you are privileged to break down the bars and open the prison doors by obedience to 140 Hearthstone Echoes. God's spirit of truth, and grace, which, will tkeoi set your own fettered spirit free. Then joy will naturally beam from your countenance like jets of light. You will be liappy. How sweet the consolation arising from tbe mem- ory of a well-spent life ! As Socrates says : " Be tlie very man you wisli to appear." " Make yourself necessary to somebody/' says Emerson. Leave off the " superfluity of naughtiness " and clierish all that will beautify and enrich your soul. Use your will, yet guard your will ; for it is the citadel of your character. The " I will " and the " I won't " will continue to chase each other all along the ave- nues of your existence until you take a positive stand for the right in each virtue. According to your will power will your character be; according tO' your character will your destiny be. Then hunt out the sources of power and weakness in your own character. The very " thorn in the flesh " may be made the source of your greatest power for good. Set a strong watch at every character gate of your heart. " Do not let Satan make you believe that you are good enough; this is one of his strongest chains." Do not say you axe invulnerable to temptation. If you feel yourself too meek to yield, think of Moses; if too holy, consider David; if too patient, think of Job; if too wise, think of Solomon; if too strong, look at Samson. You may have in your char- acter some weak point you have never discovered — one that has never been tested — and in an hour when you ar© least expecting " Delilah " may cry out, " The Philistines be How Ar]5 You Buii^ding? 141 upon thee, Samson ! " and you may be suddenly shorn of your strength. Thoughts, purposes, plans, words, and actions are the principal stones or bricks used in building character, hence in determining destiny. As you arrange your charac- ter structure, it constantly discloses your inward self. Your faults and failings, as well as your noble deeds, are laid bare to^ the scrutinizing eye of the outer world, and your heart dwindles when it comes in contact with small things and narrow interests. The greatest man is he who chooses and follows the right, who wins love by his own wooing. The pleasure of doing good is the only one that never wears out. xibout all the benefit we derive from the temporal life (besides its common blessings) is the result of being good and doing good, together with that grand social fea- ture — all those precious fascinations connected with home and radiating therefrom until they embrace all humanity. This nobility of purpose, carried into effect and cheered by the blessed hope of a bright forever, certainly makes life worth living. Let not your life be stained by crime. ISTever try to acquire fame and popularity by "puffs" either begged or paid for; never let any one say he has "dragged you up ; " and be still more careful never to let any one drag you down. The door of success is labeled " Push." Then, if need be, push your way through thorns and bram- bles ; hoe your own row ; fight your own battles ; shoot the " bear " yourself ; chop, blaze, or carve your own way up 142 Hearthstone Echoes. the hill of success. As regards this life, let a spotless char- acter be jour aim, my boy, my girl. Merit it, and it. shall be yours. A good name — think of its value ! Do not wear it without meriting it. Wear it consistently; secure it by worthy means. Build upon your own record, not that of your great-grandfather. If false accusation be heaped upon you, like the amiable Joseph, calmly live it down. Let it alone, and it will die of starvation. Place for yourself a high standard, and strive to^ attain thereunto. If you can- not reach it, reach just as high as you can ; then try tO' reach still higher. The little boy's arrow went higher by the at- tempt to hit the sun than if he had been shooting at a toad. Wealth and genius may command admiration; only true character secures respect. ISTeither can you buy your lot already improved ; with divine aid, you yourself must build. If you can possess naught but a sound character, stand firm on it, and you will be better off than a crowned king who is impure. God has blessed you with rich mental endowments' — ■ power of discerning between the upbuilding and the degrad- ing ; he has then left you to fit up and adorn the palace of your soul as you please out of his unwasting fullness. At the same time he has given you instructions, advising vou and pleading with you to arrange it tO' your own honor and his glory. If you are wise, you will select the very best furniture. At first glance it may appear too costly, but you will at last find it to be far cheaper, handsomer, more durable. It is a wise and kind provision of proivi- How Are; You BuiIvDing? 143 dence that the purest traits of character are far le^s costly and less expensive after being purchased than those perni- cious traits that destroy usefulness and produce only mis- ery and woe. The furniturei that God would have you se- lect will need no cleansing, no polishing, no apologies. Bet- ter still, it will never wear out, rust out, break down, or go out of date. Something " later " may eclipse it for a while, but will prove to be a mere " fad," while the very best is the " old reliable." You have been patiently looking with me; at some of the rubbish selected by persons who have knowledge without discretion. Tou have seen the evil of selecting such fur- niture as insincerity, murder, theft, drunkenness, self-con- ceit, stinginess, tattling, egotism, hypocrisy, sensitiveness, grumbling, procrastination, indolence;, melancholy, jeal- ousy, envy, retaliation, etc. If you fill your house with these, there will be no room for articles of a better quality. If you even mix in the bad with the good, the latter will show to poor advantag-e, and will doubtless be injured by the bad. But your mind's eye is tired ; we must give it a pleasant change. Look just outside your door, and you will see the ma- terial you need. It is all labeled. Look at the labels: " Consistency," " Benevolence," " Sympathy," " Kind- ness," "Self-control," "Industry," "Love," "Patience," " Economy," " Prudence," " Home Piety," " Thoughtful- ness," " Congeniality," and " Tact " (without tact, talent is reduced to less than half value). 144 Hearthstonb Echoks. Be wise ! Bring all tliese and similar articles into yonr quaint little cottage home, and you will have no desire for the coarser furniture. Frame the Golden Rule and hang it at the entrance; select Order as your private secretary, Good Management as your treasurer, Discretion as your chief counselor, and let Love be the reigning queen. Then be well insured in the reliable company of Heaven; keep your dues thoroughly paid up by unreserved obedience to the great spiritual guidebook, the word of God; continue to offer the incense of Prayer and Thanksgiving on the golden altar of Gratitude, and your house will indeed be a home. " On "^hat are you building, my brother ? " "ELECTRIC TIP;" OR, A COMICAL NAMESAKE. Did you ever think of how many sorry namesakes some great men have ? I would not name a child for a man of world-wide or national renown, lest he prove toi be a bur- lesque and bring reproach upon the honored name; There is many a Ben. Tranklin who mil never subjugate the light- ning; many a Christopher Columbus who will never dis- cover a continent ; many a George Washington who may cut down the cherry tree, but mil never be " first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." Prom the north to the south and from where tlie morn- ing sun seems to toss his first kiss at the awakening earth to where he looks back at her with good-night glances, elec- "KivECTRic Tip;" or, a Comicai, Namesakk. 145 tricity plays with the elements as a child plays with familiar toys. It shoots its dazzling arrows athwart the skies, cleaving the dismal clouds, consuming atmospheric poisons, cleansing the blue vault of its impurities. It is the most faithful servant of the firmament; yet it has stooped to earth, fluttered at the feet of man, and become his errand boy, carrying his messages and lighting his way. Like great men, electricity has many sorry namesakes, many ludicrous burlesques. One visited our home a few years since wearing the name " Electric Soles," or, as the agent expressed it, " Electricity Soles." These were sup- posed to be highly charged with electricity, and, worn in- side of shoes, were to cause such perfect circulation of blood as to render cold feet a trouble of the past and keep the hu- man frame proof against all ills ; hence they would dispense with " doctors' bills " and patent medicines, and, through per- fect health, would render life sublime. Although suspecting fraud, my sympathy for the agent — a poor, feeble woman — caused me to buy two pairs of soles; but the foot-warming, health-producing electricity failed to acco'mpany them. I did not censure the innocent woman; I censured the firm whose money-making scheme had induced her to become an agent for propagating fraud. Electricity has another pretty little namesake that has more recently visited our town, calling himself " Electric Tip." He is a cute little fellow^ bright and handsome, and perches himself upon an ordinary lamp wick to spread the flames and produce the equal of an electric light. He 146 Hearthstone Echoes. is to serve for two jears ; the wick is to need trimming oinly every few weeks, or months ; the lamp chimney is never to become smoked ; in fact, this little Pharisee is tO' doi almost everything except to furnish light without oil. Many of us blindly jumped at the fraud, and eagerly grasped it as a first-class labor-saving arrangement (to which we women do not seriously object). We very soon discovered the secret: In order to obtain this wonderful result (except the ligM), set the lamp away in a clean place for safe-keeping; then the " tip "' mil last, the wick will not need trimming, and the chimney will not become smoked. Follow these direc- tions carefully, and success is yours, guaranteed. Herein we are forcibly reminded of the various packages of needles, lead pencils, patent " solder," furniture glue, furniture polish, door catches, sash locks, and many otlier impositions which have deceived our unsuspecting citizens and carried from our town the patronage sO' justly due our honorable home merchants. Like a preacher from a dis- tance, foreign " goods " often seem to " take best with the people." Home industries and home talent should be cul- tivated and encouraged; then we would not have to pur- chase all our conveniences, our music, our literary gems, from the passing public and run the risk of their proving to be merely " electric tips." Another rival of " Electric Tip " has been around. He was a poor, lame, decrepit man, carrying a supply of " in« sect exterminator " (fifty cents per ounce), positively guar- anteed to keep out all insects by three or four drops be- " Electric Tip; " or, a Comical Namesake. 147 ing placed on cotton and suspended in the room. He offered five hundred dollars' reward for a fly found in a room thus equipped. The poor old cripple looked too innocent to be suspected of fraud ; so we purchased the fluid, and he " went on his way rejoicing." The oil or varnish was so highly flavored that the flies considered it a luxury — a dainty des- sert for such tasty epicures ( ? ). The elated agent failed to leave us the additional directions: " Be sure your door and window screens are insect proof, then keep them securely closed." Why do not such characters offer something worth buy- ing, or frankly, yet humbly, acknowledge that they are " beggars," ask for a little money, and not add crime to crime by giving " nothing for something ? " Simon was not the first man who used sorcery and " bewitched the peo- ple; " neither was he the last Agents have been canvass- ing the country with their impositions, deceptions, hypoc- risy, falsehood, ever since their father carried the first pack- age thereof to the quiet Eden home. They are still proudly " walking in his footsteps," having in view the same ob- ject — gain. But these crafty pedestrians serve admirably to teach us patience and to make us watchful. We should ever be on our guard, for we '' know not the day nor the hour " when some fraud seller shall come, and we may for- get to say : " ;N"o." This cunningly devised system of beg- gary so closely resembles genuine honesty that it is liable to mislead us and cause us to neglect worthy agents, even poor outcasts who are real objects of charity. 148 HSARTHSTONS ECHO^, The fraud agent does not always carry his package from house to house, neither does he always stand behind a gilded screen; but he oftentimes deals out his sordid goods in a bottle of patent medicine, in a yard of calico, in a pair of shoes, in a barrel of sugar, in a pound of butter. He comes nearer and places it in the father's hand, on the mother's tongue, in the child's disposition, in the young lady's parlor. He enters our courthouses, our schools, our churches. Sometimes we permit him to blindfold us; then, like the hungry birdie, with open mouth we accept all he says. The mother bird will not deceive, but we may be deceived by counterfeits — ^by various kinds of frauds. Satan is often transformed into " an angel of light." Need we expect bet- ter things of his stewards ? Thousands accept the fraudulent samples in Christianity, thinking they, like the " electric tips," will save time and labor ; others grasp them, hoping they will wajd off " in- sects " of persecution. We need not be. deceived concern- ing heavenlv things, though vile theories be daily placed on our doorstep or poured into our ears, for we have the great Test Book with which to compare the " goods." The chief Agent is coming by and by, and he will give this matter a thorough test, assigning to each his just re~ ward. Let us watch, therefore, lest we be numbered with those who practice fraud. How to act so as not to be crowded: Keep in the very best society, and always speak the truth. Smai.1, Subjects. 149 SMALL SUBJECTS. Some persons have wondered and asked "why I so fre- quently write on such small, unpretentious subjects. I will give my apology for doing so. When you look for the melon on a pomegranate vine, are you disappointed when you fail to find a pumpkin ? Or do you expect to find a cocoanut on a May-apple bush or a fifty-pound watermelon on a cu- cumber vine ? On the other hand, if you should see a flour- ishing gourd vine spreading its broad leaves and long arms over fence and bushes, and, going to it for a large gourd, should find growing thereon only a small, green, sour goose- berry or a green persimmon, how would you feel ? Well, if I should always select a grand, fruitful, flowery subject, you might expect to find as its outgrowth a much larger thought than I am able to present. You might expect, a large pumpkin or watermelon and find only a small, greem., erooked-necked cymling. Therefore I often select small themes, so my reader will not expect too much — so he may at least recover from the disappointment. THE "THUMB PAPER.^ Do you remember ever having a " thumb paper," and how it looked ? If not, the morning of your existence bears recent date. Beautiful cards, such as children now grow tired of, were unknown to the little lads and lassies twoscore years a^o. We then took a piece of newspaper or an old letter ; folded 150 Hearthstone Echoes. it in the form of a " love box/' or in some other unique shape ; and used it as a thumb paper. We were usually for- tunate if we could secure a half sheet of blank writing pa- per to use in this way, for this was a rarity. Such eixtrav- agance was not often indulged in. We felt wonderfully blessed, were elated and excited, if we chanced to come in I)ossession of a pretty button card, especially one checked off with narrow pink stripes. Smooth, highly glazed, perfectly white, with its delicate pencilings of pink dividing it into exact half -inch squares — 0, how beautiful! How we prized it, and how it made us the source of envy for our little schoolmates ! But we did not object to their envy, just so they did not obtain our thumb paper. Sometimes it was actually necessary to hide the book at recess to keep the card from mysteriously disappearing. A loving mother once gave her two little children a large button card — exactly the kind I have described. She was ready, scissors in hand, to divide it equally. " Please, sis- ter, let me have the whale card," said the brother, whose older mind had already formulated a plan for utilizing the rare beauty. " ISTo, no ! " cried little Mary. " Half of it is mine — ^mamma says it is — and I'm going to have it ! " " Please do let me have it all," tenderly, but earnestly, en- treated the anxious little man. " I want it for a special purpose, and it will be too small if divided." " I won't do it ! I won't do it ! " the little sister exclaimed. " But I'll pay you for your half," said her brother. " You shan't have it! I want it for a thumb paper to go in my new Ths "Thumb Papkr." 151 speller. Mamma said she would cut it in two, and she will." King" Solomon, of old, convinced the erring woman with- out dividing- the child that was a " bone of contention," but this indulgent, impartial mother failed to reconcile the baby girl so easily; so she humored the childish whims, and of the one beautiful card she made two pieces. With a look of disappointment, the good boy accepted his portion and turned away defeated. Little Mary jubilantly scampered away to hunt her " new speller," mischievously tossing her curls as she looked back over her shoulder, and cunning'ly said : " I told you I'd have it ! " For the length of an average lifetime the grass has been growing over the grave of that noble boy. Little Mary is passing life's meridian now. Time hasi shaken the curl from her tresses, is blotting the luster from her eyes, and is fading the roses from her cheeks ; the old, reliable artist is gradually, but surely, penciling her dark hair with white. But often — O, so often! — does her mind flit back to the scenes of her childhood ; and while recalling the many happy incidents, a dark spot arises before her mind's eye, and on it she sees a pair of sharp scissors dividing that beautiful card. ]!^ot many dark spots haunt her childhood musings, but this one often does ; and she now feels that if it were possible to unlock the treasuries of the past and restore that brother to life, her first words to him, after the joyous greet- ing, would be : " Pardon my childish greed, my brother, dear. Here, take the whole card ! I will gladly, lovingly give you my part ; it is yours, all yours." 152 hearthstone; Echoes. This little incident really occurred. Do yoii say it is too simple to relate? Though, it seems of minor impor- tance, no one but Mary knows how many unpleasant reflec- tions it has given her. How gladly, thankfully would she blot that little greedy act from her memory, if she could ! But perhaps it has been thus indelibly stamped there for you to see, little reader — ^yes, you. If you will profit by it, she will be glad she permitted me to tell you. She hesitated a good while before granting me this privilege; but Mary is a warm friend of minei, and consented after I told her I thought it might do good. Do you ever have such refleo tions ? 'No, not now ; but you will have in later years, I fear. • Now is the time to be good, loving, and true to your dear ones and to all. Be careful that you do not treasure up remorse or sad reflections for future years. Better sacri- fice a little of your self-will to gratify others, even though you see no reason for doing so, than show too much deter- mination to have your own way in every little thing. It is in the little deeds that we see the niceties that distingnish Hfe. But I have wandered from my themes. At that early day we did not speak of a bookmark ; we said " thumb paper," and that is exactly what it was — a literal rest for the thumb, to prevent soiling and wearing out of the book. It was a very essential part of each student's personal property, for without it the " blue-backed speller " suffered sadly ; and a book was expected to last the pupil until his education was complete — was often handed down, like outgrown clothing. The "Thumb Paper." 153 from one child to another. I once had a pupil who had no book except that which was left as a heritage from his grandf alJier ; and that pupil was not a member of a ve^ry poor family, either. The rate of each child's advancement could be calculated by the thumb marks on his book; the duller the pupil, the deeper and more worn were the marks on thei first pages. Three places were especially damaged — first, at the alpha- bet, where the child of average talent spent days, weeks, and sometimes months (according to the regularity of his attendance and the progressive ideas of the teacher), before he could say all the letters " down," then " up ; " secondly, at the " a-b, abs ; " thirdly, at that prince of pages always to be remembered by the old " blue-back " veterans as " baker.'' That noted page stood as a great signal, or sign- board — as a tall post in the boundless field of literature to which the child of high aspirations eagerly pointed, and which he longed to reach, feeling that when he should reach that page and learn to spell " by heart " all the words there- on, he would have completed half his " collegiate course.'' A few other difficult pages showed footprints (thumb prints) of the diligent student, as " horseback," " cessation," " pub- lication," and that far-famed page of prodigious words — " immateriality," " unintelligibility," and " incomprehen- sibility." Suffice it to say that the latter half of the book scarcely ever suffered much persecution, unless it was at the pictures near the back, where old Tray sadly learned the folly of evil associations and where the little 154 Hbarthston:^ Echoes. boy found it was not safe to invade his neighbor's apple orchard. Children, as we leave the old thumb-paper dispensation, we see portrayed at least two or three distinct lessons appli- cable to the present day. One is progression. The worn and greasy thumb paper has given place to myriads of beau- tiful cards and calendars of the most artistic designs. The champion of the log schoolhouse, Webster's " blucf-backed speller," has been superseded by vast libraries of text-boo'ks less tedious and far more attractive; and the little bare- footed tots of that day, who still live, now see their places filled by others no more intelligent, but better dressed and with better advantages. The log schoolhouse, with its puncheon floor, its many narrow windows in roof and walls, its rustic seats, and its mammoth fireplace, has served its purpose well, and has long since been succeeded by the magnificent college, the pride of the glorious, but newly- buried, nineteenth century. The length of time then usu- ally devoted to the alphabet will now teach a child to read, write, and spell, besides giving him a right good idea of numbers and of the elements of the mother tongue, as well as some knowledge of the natural sciences. On the other hand, do we show a full appreciation of these superior advantages ? Do we strive as hard for thorough- ness as we should ? Do we not often disregard our wonder- ful opportunities and drift into habits of extravagance — • not only as to property, but also wasting much precious time ? If in the thumb-paper age- — the age of limited ad- Woman's Infx,uence. 155 vantages — a boy or girl could become even a fine speller, reader, and mathematician, how much more is expected of the youth to-day ! This is certainly the age of golden op- portunities, if we will only embrace them. WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. Who will deny that woman has influence? Will youf Will you ? My neighbor, brother, friend, will youf To me it seems hardly appropriate to assign this sub- ject to a woman. Her trivial part in life's great play could be better estimated by man, her royal superior, her sover- eign companion. / think to Mm should have been assigned this wondrous task. However, I verily believe all will read- ily admit woman has influence. Will you ? Thank you ! Then my task will not be diflScult, since I will have no argument to produca As in the dawn of time, even so in the golden now, to her " better self " woman often says, " Eat," and he " eat- eth;" "Sleep," and he "sleepeth;" "Do this," and he " doeth it ; " " Go," and he — is gone. Adam could calmly slumber while the heavenly Surgeon extracted from near his heart that marvelous rib; but too weak was he to withstand his beloved when her nimble fin- gers presented the forbidden fruit. Samson could conquer ferocious beasts, carry off city gates, and pull down theater walls ; but his strength vanished before the decoy of shrewd Delilah. Elijah hesitated not to foretell to the desperate 156 H:eARTHSTONE ECHO:eS. Ahab the forty-two months' drotught, then on Moimt Oar- mel stood undaunted before eight hundred and fifty wicked prophets, a Heaven-sanctioned witness of thedr sudden eix- termination ; but when the lovely ( ? ), the amiable ( ? ), the sweet-spirited (?) Queen Jezebel gently raised her dainty fist against him, he "fled for his life." In every age Adam has had his Eve; Samson, his Delilah; Ahab, his Jezebel ; David, his Bathsheba ; Solomon, his " daughter of Pharaoh ; " and Herod, his Herodias — man, the acknowl- edged head; woman, the many- jointed neck that turns the head. You will never deny woman's evil influence (even before she becomes the far-famed "mother-in-law"). You al- ready know too well her many faults — her extravagance^, pet- tishness, impatience, vanity; her powers of exaggeration (causing you to believe the intruder is a lion or rhinoceros,, when it is only a mouse) ; but has it ever been intimated to you that woman has a tongue ; that she is chief est among fault-finders ; that her favorite of all pursuits is tattling — foremost in carrying news, especially bad news, and noted for having the " last word " (part of " woman's rights," you know) ? If not, probably I can give you some valuable information. " Nature, seeming partial in her ends, Made man the strongest; But then, in order to amends, , Made woman^s tongue the longest." Woman's Infi,ue;nce;. 157 Swift says: She sits tormenting ev'ry guest. Nor gives her tongue a moment's rest, In phrases battered, stale, and trite, Which modern ladies call ' polite.' " Tongue ! not always even " tied in the middle," but some- times set on a pivot, so it may turn, in every direction — the outburst of a violent temper. Tongue! cunningly barred and hedged in by twO) rows of ivory fencing and closed in by nature's ingenious tollgate, a pair of broad lips ; then placed far from the heart, that it may not utter all the heart conceives; yet an "unruly evil." Tongue! that often runs almost for ages without a guide — ^witbout even being wound up. " Where is the man who has the power and skill To stem the torrent of a woman's will? For if she will, she will, you may depend on 't; And if she won't, she won't; so that's an end on 't." It has been said that "Woman never submits. But will have her way or will have her fits." After long consideration and much meditation upon the great reputation he possessed in the nation, King Solomon decided that it was more pleasant to keep " bach." on the house top than dwell in a mansion with a crabbed, conten- tious woman; and he certainly knew what he was talking about. He spoke that which he did know and testified to that which he had seen. Man can guide the largest steamer on the Pacific Ocean, but not woman's tongue; he can con- 158 Hearthston:^ Echoes. trol the most vicio'iis animals in the meoiageriei, but wom- an's tongue he can neither tame nor cage^ — never; no, never. !N"ow, mj beloved sisters — my weiak, morose, crabbedj vain, eixtravagant, fault-finding, tattling sistersi — ^will our superiors deny our influence ? Acquainted, as they are, with all our weaknesses, is it not strange that without us but few men seem content ? "The world was sad; the garden was a wild; And man, the hermit, sighed — ^till woman smiled." He has kept her by his side (from force of habit, of course), until without her he is like a bird with a broken wing — onersided; like a species of bird that a Persian poet tells us of, each having only one wing, but by the cooperation of a pair of birds the flight is made with easa Gentlemen, pardon me, please. I dislike to appear pre- sumptuous, for modesty sliould adorn our humble class; but, honestly, I do not believe woman's influence is all evil. I cannot think the neck always turns its head in the wrong direction ; but I readily admit woman is sometimes a man's crown, sometimes a millstone dragging him down. For four thousand years she was your slave. The reign of Christ has made her free. Thanks to Christianity for her promotion ! Woman does not make very great pretensions. In noted achievements she is scarcely kno'wn. As to intellect;, she generally succumbs as man's inferior ; in physical strength, weak. The Bible uses but little space eulogizing woman. The blunted pencil of patriotic fame dimly scribbles the Woman's Infi,uknce;. 159 name "Joan of Arc ; " the business world reluctantly ac- knowledges its Hetty Green; while the charity seeker . warmly grasps the name " Helen Gould." In the literary skies a few stars of the third and fourth magnitudes are recognized — as Jean Ingelow, George Eliot, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Mrs. Humphry Ward, Charles Egbert Craddock, Harriet Beecher Stow©, Phoebe and Alice Gary, and a few others ; while the beloved name " Frances E. Willard " will honor the pages of history until the last recorded utterance of time. In the language of Barrett : " Not woman with traitorous kiss her Savior stung. Not she denied him with unholy tongue; She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave — Last at his cross and earliest at his grave." Has woman any influence? What is home without a woman ? Home is her chief study, her workshop, her arena. Schools, society, church, and nations are but the outgrowth of home. This is why " the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world." Speak of the world's great heroes — ^we find them in the quiet homestead. The heroine of the South to-day is not she who longs for the ballot boix, the stage, the pulpit, or the bar ; not she who' finds chief delight in outer display or greatest gold. The true heroine of the South to-day is she who gracefully, wisely, and willingly reigns as queen over her little home kingdom, looking to the best interests of the girls and boys, engrafting noble princi- ples into their hearts. I repeat : this is why " the han.3 that rocks the cradle rules the world." i6o Hearthstonk Echoes. Do you ask the extent of woman's power for good ? Eter- nity will reply. That her usefulness is greatly impaired by the lack of better health, no one will deny. Health, and woman did not seem congenial coimpanions; so- they haro long since been divorced. Queen Style changes her ideas with the ever-changing moon, and commands woman to keep step with her. In her efforts to thus maintain her po- sition in the social world, woman's mind often becomea confused; her body, wearied; the entire telegraphic nerve system, unstrung. Man, do not censure too severely her frailties, but raise your strong will against this ever-chang- ing, oppressive, unjust, ungodly queen. Start her back to the " great Paris " (" Paree "), and pray that, happily, the ship on which she sails may share the fat© of the Maine. Then you will have a more congenial companion, a more efficient helpmate; your purse strings will last longer; and future generations will rise up and call you " blessed." A good sister, wife, mother — " these are they that make the poor man rich," says a man of merits He also' says, "A man is what a woman makes him ; " that young la- dies have it largely in their power to mold the character of young men. Then lift your eyes, you fair daughters of Tennessee, and behold your work ! " The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few." Go, gather a rich harvest of souls, and be assured that a strict account will be kept in God's jeweled ledger. Lose no opportunity. Doubtless in that " great day coming " many will blush with shame or shriek with horror when they see turned to Woman's Inpi^uence. i6i the left certain young men they might have rescued. " Gather up my influence, and bury it with me," have been the dying pleadings of a misspent life. If anything could cause tears in heaven, it surely would be lost opportunity. In the beautiful "city of the dead" at Lexington, Ky., stands a tall, handsome monument erected to the memory of a young lady, I know not who. Its appearance indi- cates wealth and care, but it attracts peculiar attention. It is perfectly black, and presents in large, distinct, white characters the doleful inscription : " It might have been." I know not the story. It may have been a wrecked life; it may have been lost opportunity in some other form. Bo that as it may, that doleful inscription bespeaks volumes of hidden grief and almost curdles my blood as I think of it : " It might have been." The passer-by tries to ascertain the secret (so he can communicate to others), but the crash- ing gravels beneath his feet seem to harshly echo: " It might have been." The beautiful evergreens nod to each other, then raise their heads and straighten themselves as if in awe ; the weeping willow bows low to the inevitable. The lofty shafts surrounding it seem tO' gaze in wonder; hundreds of buried soldiers who lie near and point their marble slabs upward, like so many bayonets, seem to say, " To fight and die for our country is sad, but not half so sad as this ; what can the trouble be ? " while the stately spire of Henry Clay looms high above, and from its lofty perch his marble statue points heavenward as if saying : " Up yonder the mystery is known — ' it might have been.' " i62 He;arthstone; Kchoijs. Wliat is the secret of woman's good influence ? Is it her beauty ? If so, a large majority of us are sadly exempt from sendee. Unlock that large heart of hers, and you will find the secret. Her heart is a great coimbination lock. Its golden key is love. With it she unlocks other hearts and pours in the soothing balm. To the mother preeminently is given the faculty for home making. 0, that sweet, familiar household cry : " Where's mamma '? " How natural, coming from the child just in from school or the wearied husband from the storei! It should he heard; something seems wrong without it. Woman is no longer her own after becoming wife and mother. Called of God to fill this position, eternal interests are com- mitted to her care ; and the family tie suffers by the loss of her personality. She is the humblest of burden bearers, and her helping hands and willing feet find plenty to do. She enjoys loving, helpful sympathy. Do not be so spar^ ing with it, young man, and older one. Do not be afraid of " spoiling mother ; " she is made of very good material. The growing and distressingly dangerous tendency to-day, especially among the young, is to consider other places more desirable than homa " Tied to mother's apron string ! " exclaims the boy in his early teens. Yes, boys; and stay there just as long as you can, lest you become wedded to evil habits. Did you know it? Danger comes just after you break loose from that famous " string." Look ! See the quicksands and whirlpools just beyond ! There darkness falls, the wind is high, dense clouds arise^ (Ask some of Woman's lNFi.uENc:e. 163 these older "boys" for a bit of their eixperiencei. ) The wreck of boy or girl is often traceable to improper home life, but never to the prudent mother's " apron string,''' Larger boys, when you have a " night off," call on your mother. The enthusiastic farmer and his stalwart son are in this assembly. God bless them and their faithful, earnest toil ! Without them, how very soon would our country co'me to des- olation and our appetites to want ! A fertile, well-managed farm is a perpetual Klondike. (By the way, boys, on the farm is an excellent place to find a wife — a girl with solid, practical judgment, education, and experience; not a "bird in a gilded cage.") " The city has many attractions, But think of its vices and woe! Better risk the old farm a while longer; Don't be in a hurry to go. " Better stay on the farm a while longer. Though profits come in rather slow. Remember, you've nothing to risk, boys; Don't be in a hurry to go." It is in the farmer's home we find woman's wort most effectual. Why ? Because men and boys stay at home more closely there. There are not so many induce- ments to leave. Their evenings are spent in the home cir- cle. Their bodies, after a day's steady work, are tired enough to rest ; and at an early hour they lie down to peace- ful dreams, exempt from many temptations presented in the city. 164 Hejarthston:^ Echoes. Ho"vr attractive the well-regulated farm home — neat, comfortable, with its gardens, " its orchards, its meadows, its deep-tangled wildwood," its green fields, and its wealth of golden grain ; horses, cattle, sheep, and the swine of "olden fame " — all with plenty to eat, at home, with man as their contented king! In the schoolhouse hang the middlings and hams ; in the cellar are bushels of " yellow yams ; " that spacious barn is overflowing with com, fodder, and new-mown hayj while in the gamer is the stuff to make bread of (and to divide with village neighbors). The pigeon, without fear of being molested, gracefully sails the farm over, surveys his broad heritage, comes back, enters the little many-windowed mansion prepared for him on the barn top, folds his white wings, and goes to sleep amid his multi-feathered companions; and old Tray, after a hearty supper, quietly slumbers in his cozy kennel. Eor this work of the farmer and his boys we see a counterpart. We see woman's footprints — not only on thei piano' treadles and around the flower beds, but we also see them as she anxiously looks after the turkeys and guineas, carefully houses the little chicks, then sees to the butter and eggs, which she skillfully converts into " puddings and pies that fairly bewilder and dazzle our eyes " as her work-weary feet tread " that old kitchen floor." Day's work ended, supper over, nuts cracking in the corner, " whitecaps " playing " leapfrog " in the corn popper, music in the parlor, Tabby sleeping on the rug, the cricket chirping under the hearth, the katydid without, papa reading the Book of Truth, all "Th^ Baby." 165 lovingly coramitted into the Father's keeping, a good-night kiss, " Good night ! " — a model Christian home, a beautiful type of heaven, the nursery of heaven, heaven begun. Loved ones departing are links connecting earth with heaven. Woman in this home: First, she is baby girl; then she is sister J wife, mother — ^with influence all the way — touching with magic spark the heart of humanity to kindle a flame divine. She is your mother now, her dark locks " blondined " by the chemicals of time. She has arranged for a crown *' over the river," and will soon go to receive it. While she is with you, respect hex. If you love heo*, tell her so. Do not wait to express all your appreciation in marble and floral praises over her grave. If you love her, " speak it out." '* THE BABY/' To watch and to nourish with tenderest care This life bud is placed in our trust. Its petals will open the flower to declare, Which may be a rose, or a lily so fair. Or a thistle to encumber the dust. May Heaven direct it to blossom aright. To lift its head toward the fair sky. To open its petals in heavenly light. And thus be a flower so pure and so bright. Accepted in mansions on high. Emblem of innocence, plaintive little dove. Like Noah from the ark did release To secure the bright token of heavenly love. To carry the message as sent from above. The olive leaf — emblem of peace. i66 Hearthstone Echoes. May love, peace, and honor this loved one attend. His pathway with blessings be strown, Humility and truth in his character blend, And Jesus, our Savior, to him be a friend. While mercy from heaven is shown. An innocent lamb, with a Shepherd on high. Who o'er him close vigils can keep. Who will come with a heavenly host by and by, While anthems of praises resound through the sky. And gather to heaven his sheep. May this, our little darling, be one of the fold Received in that eternal home. Abounding in joys and pleasures untold. Whose gates are of pearl and whose streets are of gold. Where all of the ransomed shall roam. [Later. — The bud had opened almost the last folded petals into sweet maturity, when it was plucked and carried hence. The dove took its flight from earth; the Shepherd lifted his lamb across the tidal wave.] DIXIE WHISPERS. With other members of our family, I spent the winter of 189-1- and 1895 in the fair Southland. The scenery on our way was varied — from low marshes to level cotton fields; thence to the rocky heights of the Cumberland Mountain, with its Lookout Mountain overlooking beautiful Chatta- nooga and smiling down on the fertile valleys quietly sleep- ing in the mountain's arms. We passed myriads of cedars as beautifully and symmetrically shaped as if trimmed by the fingers of art; then thousands of acres of lofty pines, with one side gashed about three feet above the ground, from DixiK Whispers. 167 whieh ineisions the turpentiiie flows. As this dries, it turns white, and, covering about half the trunk of each tree from the gash to the ground, looks very much like tombstones. On a moonlight night these turpentine orchards resemble immense graveyards. The people of Florida possess many charming traits. They are large-hearted, kind, and unselfish, seeming to lose sight of self in trying to make others happy. They are a true type of genuine hospitality. They greeted us more like cherished schoolmates than strangers. Children, herein lies a useful lesson. As there is a difference in greetings, there is a corresponding difference in the feel- ings of guests. In our beloved, our native, Tennessee, as elsewhere, when we see strangers enter school or church, we often look and act as if afraid of them; roll our eyes wildly at them, as if suspecting them to be^ refugees from smallpox or yellow fever, bringing germs of the contagion for our especial benefit. Many times we are too economical with our thoughtfulness, our smiles, our kind words, and our hand shakes. Most of the tropical fruits are too well known to need describing, such as the orange, lemon, lime, grapefruit, guava, banana, Japan persimmon, Japan plum, pomegran* ate, etc. There are also large pear orchards, from which much fruit is shipped, dried and canned. The Florida climate is delightful. During most of the winter the weather is similar to our balmy May, summer vegetables growing luxuriantly in fields and gardens in mid- 1 68 Hearthstone Echoes. winter. Vegetation grows as if by magic in the warm, sandy loam, tliough tlie soil, as a rule, is not very fertile. If a freeze kills a crop of vegetables, others are planted in- stead, and but little time is lost. There is great diversity in the forest growth. Sometimes the train is passing through dense forests of scrub oak, water oak, magnolia, persimmon, cabbage palmetto, etc., darkened by jungles of thick undergrowth and rendered almost impenetrable by saw palmetto and other productions of the swamp, when suddenly all becomes light, with nothing to be seen except tall pine trees, draped with large cords of long, flowing moss, lonesomely waving like weeping willows over myriads of little mounds of fresh sand thrown above the surface by the salamander. The change back to the hammock land is just as sudden — like going through a thick forest, then abruptly into a cleared field, thence into another dense forest. This sudden change in natural growth makes a peculiar, impres- sion on the mind. The salamander I alluded toi some- what resembles a large rat, and burrows in the ground, living on various kinds of roots, sometimes interrupting potatoes and other vegetables. He does his work on the under- mining principle, like certain sins we know of. Some localities are destitute of the long, gray moss, and the wind sighs mournfully in the lofty pine tops. In other places the mossy fringe is so heavily draped as to appear burden- some to the trees, hanging in cords from three feet tO' twelve or fifteen feet long, blown and twisted by the wind, and looking like immense ropes dangling in the breeze. This DixiK Whispers. 169 peculiar growth is not confined to any species of trees, but grows thriftily on all, from the topmost bough of the lofty, long-leafed pine to the lowest limb of the orange or the tiny branches of the pretty, scrubby rosemary. It is a grand, but somewhat lonesome, sight to see forest trees and imdergrowth thus draped, reminding us a little of our Ten- nessee forests after a moderate snowfall. In factories tliis moss is deprived of its gray covering and converted into mattresses and other useful articles. We were peculiarly impressed with the camphor tr©e, whose leaves, wben bruised, give forth a strong odor of gum camphor ; also with the rubber tree, with its long, blunt, leafless arms, resem- bling some kinds of cactus. But few churches and schoolhouses have any arranget- ments for fire, a.nd many large families have been, reared in houses not even ceiled and with no place for fire, except in the cooking stove ; but the balmy Floral State experiences some cold weather, which, fortunately, does not last long. It is said that the summers are made pleasant by tbe health- ful sea breeze, and that there sunstrokes are unknown. In consequence of the deep sand, walking is very tiresome in roads much traveled. Instead of wanting rain to " settle tbe dust," they want it thecre to " settle the sand," thus making travel more pleasant. PONDS AND LAKES. There are many large, peculiar ponds and chains of ponds throughout the State, abounding in fishes, snakes, alligators, 170 Hearthstone Echoes. cypress knees, tall cypress trees, water lilies, etc. Among the chief attractions should be mentioned those large, beau- tiful, transparent lakes, which in grandeur mirror the sun, moon, and stars, and whose borders are fringed with almoet perfect reflections of the various tropical growths in which they (these great water mirrors) are framed. Some of the lakes are several miles in extent, and are a source of de- light to the hungry fisherman as he merrily plays over their silvery ripples, gathering into his little^ boat the scaly wealth. SILVER SPRING. What I regard as one of Florida's greatest beauties is Silver Spring, six miles from Ocala. Were I to attempt a full description of this, my " magnificent failure " would be but a burlesque on the English language. Poets may write and men of eloquence may multiply flowers of speech trying to paint a word picture of the beauties of that won- derful spring, but, after labored attempts, they will bo forced to say: "Pardon me; I am unfitted for the tsaak." I had heard of Silver Spring and its marvelous beauties, but, after seeing fo^r myself, I was fully ready to admit there is but one way to realize its attractiveness^ aja.d that is to do' as I did — go and see for yourself. However, I will try to give the children a faint idea of its appearance. When we arrived, there were (waiting for our train) three good-sized steamboats in the head of the spring, which is said tO' be more than one hundred yards across. The largest boat was the steamer Okahumkee. Besides, there DixiB Whispers. 171 were three smaller steamers, a large freight boat, and two or three rowboats only a few paces down the stream. (Be it remembered, this spring is the head of Ocklawaha River, and the boats on it pass into the St. Jolms Eiver.) Our little crowd of six chose the best sight^seeing way — entered a rowboat, with a skillful manager, and sailed down the stream about half a mile, stopping every few moments, humbling ourselves by placing our eyes down near the wa- ter and beholding the beauties beneath. Every imagina- ble variety of vegetation that grows in fresh water is surely there represented — mosses, grasses, ferns; some, bright green ; somei, dark ; some, dotted with small, white flowers, which look like little stars ; others, covered with a white sedi- ment or substance which gives them the exact appearance of being frosted or crystallized. The peculiar attraction of this spring is the exceeding transparency of its water, seeming to actually magnify, like some powerful lens, everything in the bottom appearing e\''en more distinct than if viewed simply through the purest, clearest atmosphere, though the water is from thirty feet to ninety feet deep. Here we would see a large patch of long- bladed grass, which appeared almost near enough the sur- face to be reached by the hand; there, a large species of moss arising several feet from the ground, in various shadea of green, some almost pure white and looking like gigantic coral standing in the water. A little farther away we would behold peculiar bluish, silvery-looking somethings several yards in diameter. On approaching we would find them 172 Hearths'tone Echoes. to be places free from vegetation, covered with whit© piioe- phate, sand, and shells, with now and then a bottle or other small object, which had been intentionallv dropped from the surface and which could be seen as distinctly as the small turtles crawling over the shells and gliding through the deep water. The fish in great numbers appeared to be on " dress parade," and seemed to delight in sporting lei- surely in tbe crystal stream and then quietly passing out of sight behind vines, grass, and mosses, as if challenging us for a game of " hide and seek." We passed over many large trees, which probably for ages have been buried in this watery grave so deep that large steamers can pass over them unmolested, and yet whose limbs seem in a perfect state of preservation and still cling firmly to their strong bodies. I thought our boatman was about to run against a limb, and, womanlike, took liberty to caution him. He smiled, tben pleasantly info'rmed m© that the limbs were all many feet below the surface. On© woman (not myself this time) kept reaching into the water for moss and sea- weeds, which appeared within reach. Of course we all laughed at her. We passed over several " natural wells " (correctly named), which are deep, round holes in the river bed. We could see sand boiling up in some of theim. The depth of some has never been ascertained. To vary the scenery, we occasionally looked up and admired the water lilies near the shores ; then the dense, viny hammock, with its live oaks, magnolias, cabbage palmettoes, cypress, and pines. Having returned to the head of the spring, we stood Dixie; Whispe;rs. 173 on a high platform. We gazed, we wondered, we admired ; and while greedily partaking of our lunch, we occasionally cast a piece of biscuit or a chicken bone to the multitude of small fishes and watched them dart toward the surface to meet it, then follow it down, down, nibbling at it as it slowly sunk in the crystal depths, their number being rap- idly reinforced by scores of others which seemed to have been in ambush among the water weeds, all appearing ex- cited, like boys at football. We then involuntarily f ast-ened our eyes on other beauties buried thirty feeti beneath the liquid waves — tin cans, bottles, bright pieces of tin, strips of palmetto leaves, papers, and various otheir objects, each of which shone like a beautiful moon or star as it was rer fleeted by the sun and refracted by the light and water until it appeared near the surface. It is said (and I doubt it not) that a silver dime or a finger ring can be distinctly seen at the bottom of this spring. It is astomshing how slowly even a rock appears to sink in this stream and how long it is in reaching the bottom. To try to describe this marvelous kaleidoscope of nature would be like attempting a description of the starry firma> ment, and who feels capacitated to do that ? The best that can be done is to use the best descriptive language avail- able, then lay down the pen and say : " Come, expressive Silence, muse its praises." THE PALMETTO. Of this beautiful native growth there are several varie- ties. Hundreds of acres are covered with the scrub, or 174 He;arthston:e; Echoes. saw, palmetto, which has heretofore been regarded as a nuisance — an unmitigated pest to- the tillers of th.e soil — ■ on account of its many tangled, matted roots, which make " clearing " alrhost impossible. It is said that " the cost of clearing an acrei of land of this growth is often much greater than the price of a dozen acres of the rough." The scrubby tops of the plant become so' matted as to' be an al- most impassable barrier of tangled undergrowth. How- ever, its beautiful fan-shaped leaves have long been used in decorations, in making ornamental articles — such as fans, etc. — and during the war of the sixties the women of the South iised them ex^tensively in manufacturing baskets, mats, hats, etc., many of which are still in serviceable con- dition, so durable is the material. The plant is now re- ceiving considerable attention, being regarded as a fruitful source of both health and wealth. Various medicinesi are said to be manufactured from the saw palmetto. Its roots, so fibrous, are being made into various kinds of scrub brushes and other articles of convenience; an.d sincei it has been recently ascertained that these roots are rich in tannic acid, factories are already in operation extracting this acid and tanning leather therewith. One of the most impor- tant uses for which the saw palmetto is available, however, is in the making of paper. It has been thus used for many years in Asia, but not in America until very recently. Doubtless it will erelong supply the great and increasirg demand for a satisfactory substitute for wood pulp in paper making. The palmetto " flats " can furnish an inexhausti- Dixie; Whispers. 175 ble supply, for sO' long as the roots are left in the ground the tops will be abundantly reproduced. The tops may be harvested for paper manufacture every year, with positive assurance that ano'ther abundant crop will be forthcoming the next season; and it is believed that before long the finest and best paper will be made therefrom. Many of God's works we reject with disdain because of our oiwn lack of knowledge and investigation. The cabbage palmetto is a peculiar tree. It is an ever- green, shaped somewhat like the pine, though not sO' tall, with no limbs, but with immense feathery-looking leaves, whose stems, several feet long, resemble limbs. As the palmetto shrub begins to develop intO' a tree, its lower leaves fall off, leaving these long stems cupping aro'und and cling- ing with great tenacity to the trunk and resembling broad basket splits. These form a complete network, a beauti- ful and systematic bonelike cage for the body of the tree, and sometimes remain until the trunk is a foot or two in diameter and twenty or thirty feet high; then, beginning at the bottom, they fall off, one by one, as the tree grows old and its bark hardens so as not to need protection. These trees are about as large at the top as near the ground, many of them larger, and as blunt as any cactus, simply finished with a heavy bunch of leaves extending from ten to thirty feet in diameter. It is said that bears climb these trees to obtain the delicious bud. The small, black berries, growing in large bunches between the leaves, are eixcellent food for hogs, and are sometimes substituted for grease in 176 Hearthstone Echoes. soap making. The large, white, tender bud tastes very much like cabbage., only it is sweeter, milde^r, and is good, wholesome food, either cooked or otherwise. THE SAND SPUE. Where so much sweet abounds we may naturally expect at least a small portion of bitter. I must not fail to tell the children about the barefooted boy's foe, the little sand spur. It resembles a small cocklebur ; but its thorns seem to be bearded, making it very difficult to extract them and causing the wounds to be painful and sometimes danger- ous. The sand spur is a complete hypocrite — a " snake in the grass " — growing on a kind of low grass along the edges of the sandy roads, not showing itself until it pierces the foot almost like a needle. It is rarely found in dense forests or well-cultivated fields, but seems to sit as a beg- gar by the wayside — a kind of hidden trap to catch the person who turns aside from the old, beaten path. Per- sons can soon learn where to expect the sand spur — on the short stem by the broad blades of low grass in which it nes- tles; but this grass looks so' harmless it is hard tO' real- ize it conceals any sting. Its leaf closely resembles that of the wild, delicious little grass nut of our country. A friend with whom I was walking one day suddenly said: "You better ' keep in the middle of the road.' " I told her I was tired of walking in the deep sand. She replied : " Yes, and your fingers will be tired and sore by the time you get all the sand spurs off your dress." Sure DixiiS Whisp]Srs. 177 enough, I picked off one hundred and five, after our walk was ended, and put them with other relics to bring home with me. She cautioned me to cork them securely in a lit- tle bottle, lest some of them should accidentally be imbedded in Tennessee soil. I carefully followed her advice; and, after reaching home, I decided to boil them, thus utterly destroying all germinating possibilities. Lessons: (1) Sin is deceptive as the sand spur. (2) Sin is least common amid the live, dense forests and thor- oughly cultivated fields of intellectual and spiritual devel- opment. (3) Sin often lurks where least expected, fre- quently planting itseK along the highways, as if to catch the unsuspecting passer-by. (4) Sin is a kind of secreted trap, and is sure to catch the person who simply borders along on the " strait and narrow way " instead of walking therein. (5) We may often learn exactly where to find sin — among its usual associates — ^most frequently nestling in low crowds. (6) Some forms of vice bear such close resemblance to righteousness as to be mistaken therefor; but on close examination the fruit proves to be — ^not the pleasant-tasted little grass nut, but the torturing sand spur of deception. (7) In traveling life's great highway, we had better " keep in the middle of the road," though our feet grow weary of the monotonous sands of time ; for if we stray off to one side, we are liable to come in contact with the sand spurs of vice which may cling to us throughout the journey. (8) If perchance we have in our control the very seeds from which sin is produced, let us absolutely destroy 178 Hearthstone Echoes. their germinating properties, not even risk bottling them, as I did th.e souvenir sand spurs, lest they accidentally be- come imbedded in some person's heart and life. (9) The thorns of sin are bearded, not easily extracted, and fre- quently pierce the body and fatally penetrate the soul. Let us beware as to where we place our feet, our hands, our hearts, our thoughts. THE OKANGE. A charming sight is a large grove of thrifty orange trees whose limbs are bending with golden fruit, so beautifully blended with the dark, rich, glossy evergreen foliage. We found such groves almost as common in Florida as our cornfields or cotton fields in Tennessee. Where we made our first home there was a great variety of tropical fruits ; and, best of all, our yard was an orange grove, laden with luscious fruit, to which we had a standing invitation, which we did not tJ*eat with disdain (we did not desire to thus wound the feelings of our clever host and his excellent fam- ily) . As there were many kinds, of course we had to sam.' pie each to decide which we liked best;, then would soon forget, and would have to go to the trouble (?) of sampling again. This was our fate (?) day after day for five long weeks; but the trees showed no marks of displeasure, did not even look as if we had ever visited them. We tried not to be greedy, lest we should appear " green ; " so we only visited the trees before and after breakfast, dinner, and sup- per, and now and then between meals. The little children Dixie; Whispers. i79 gathered a large water bucket full, or more, every evening, and had them in the sitting room for all of us to eat at night after coming from preaching. (My husband was conduct- ing a meeting there. ) It is astonishing to see the amount of fruit these trees can bear and yet not break — ^the wood is so very tough. I do not remember seeing one broken limb in any grove we visited or passed, although some were bowed to the ground. Even the heavy ladders (used in gathering), when rudely thrown against the limbs, found firm support, not breaking even the twigs. This peculiarly strong texture is a wise provision of providence, without which the trees would suffer violently. I noticed a very peculiar feature about the orange; that is, it rarely ever falls from the tree, unless faulty. Occa- sionally I would see a nice-looking orange on the ground and pick it up, but almost invariably by looking carefully I could deteet a flaw, usually where it had been pierced by a thorn. This reminds me of church members. Where they are pure — true tO' the faith — ^they will cling to the church, like the orange to its parent stem, until plucked by the Master to be shipped to another country. When one falls, you may observe that he has let some weakness overcome him ; has been unsteady, too " shaky ; " and has permitted the winds of adversity to beat him too hard against the world, like the orange against the thorny bough. Sometimes the orange that falls is one of the finest-looking on the tree, and it is only after careful examination that the cause of i8o . Hearthstone Echoes. the fall can be detected. So with the fallen chiirch nLem- her. Sometimes he is one who has always been regarded as a stanch member — solid, faithful; but when tested, it becomes evident tbat he has permitted Satan's wily darts to pierce his heart, and thus has separated himself from the " true vine." THE FREEZES. For five weeks it was our glad privilege to see Florida arrayed in her native glory; then (December 28 and 29) came that noted and very destructive freeze, which had not been equaled in sixty years, and she was deprived of her golden wealth. This freeze was soon followed by anotlier (February 7 and 8), even more severe. All the groves in Northern and Central Florida were completely killed, thus destroying a perpetual fortune of the State. Flower yards and gardens were divested of their glory. The mod- est little angels of nature drooped and died. Ponds were frozen over; water pipes were burst; long icicles hung as crystal pendants from the tanks. We saw two young calves running and skipping through the forest, as if half in play and half in terror, near where lay the lifeless bodies of their own mothers, victims of the unwonted freeze^ We went to Cedar Keys on tbe evening of the first freeze, and on the way passed a number of houses where there were large fires in the yards, around which the families were hovered, " shivering in the cold." We found the us.uaily delightful gulf breeze suddenly converted intot a regular Dixi:e Whispers. i8i northeir, whistling in all its Western fnry, freezing even the salt water of the great gulf as it was dashed upon the shore. Thousands of frozen fishes were washed ashore by tidal waves. The destruction of fish was very serious to those who, like the fishermen of Galilee, spent most of their time plowing the blue waters for a living. This violent freeze seemed to be a dire disaster to poor Florida; and it does not yet appear that its damage can ever be fully com- pensated, though many young groves have been set out since the freeze, and some of them are beginning to yield fruit. The loss may prove to be a blessing in disguise — may cause the people to develop their varied capabilities and bring to light the many possibilities of Southern soil hitherto un- known. CEDAR KEYS. We foimd much to interest us in this group of many small islands, which was at one time termed the " Venice of America," but which now shows serious neglect and the effect of two storms that swept mercilessly along the gulf shore a few years since. Many of the houses are built of concrete — a mixture of shells, lime> and sand, molded like large brick, about one and one-half feet by three f eet^ These shell bricks, cemented together, form the massive walls, very durable and attractive^ at a short distance having the ap- pearance of rustic stone; but on approach they show that each section is a consolidated mass of various kinds of sea- shells. We spent many hours " gathering up the shells i82 Hbarthston^ Echoes. from the seashore " and ooUecting other relics to carry back to friends in Tennessee ; and, seeing so many kinds, of fish, shells, weeds, and other curiosities of the seia, we decided it was a debatable question as to whether the wonders of the land were more marvelous than those of the deep. There being but little room for traveling even on tbe largest island, Way Key, there were very few horses and buggies and not a wagoiL Drays were used, even as con- veyancee in funeral processions. There was not a horse, on the sister island, Atsena Otie, and the only vehicle (?) there was the wheelbarrow; therefore they have no need for the middle of their streets, except as a place to deposit rubbish, of which there is but little^. On this little island we walked over the graveyard, finding many graves entirely covered with shells. We saw the " bier " on which, in the absence of horse and hearse;, a lifeless body is carried by six men. from the residence to the grave. It is simply a flat, wooden frame, I imagine similar to that from which triumphantly arose, at the Savior's bidding, the son of " the widow of ITain." On the principal island, while tbe Eagle Pencil Factory was in operation, we were conducted through by the courteous proprietor, who explained to us each process through which the cedar passed, from the time the rustic logs were floated there in rafts for many, many miles till the material was ready for shipment to New York for completion. From the sawdust is extracted the rare cedar oil used as the basis of many liniments and perfumes. The scenery at Cedar Keys is varied and interesting. Dixie Whispers. 183 ligature has done a marvelous work there, and art has dona a respectable one. We could stand on the wharf and see an ice factory, three pencil factories, and other industries ; we could watch the train as it came from afar, crossed the broad bayou on a high wooden bridg'ei, and landed its pas- sengers on a " dock " over water many feet deep; we could see shell mounds, shell bluffs, shell houses, shell street® and streets paved with shells, walks of shells through yards and gardens, and car loads of shells still lying in heaps along the shore; yet, go to the fish houses when we would, we would find greedy man still busy divesting the poor little oyster of its shell. From the same wharf we could look do'Wn. and watch the weary fishermen unload their boats; we could see wagon loads of fish and oj^sters brought therefro'm into- the fish houses and prepared for shipment ; then we could raise our eyes and watch the many fish boats., sponge boats, and turtle boats sailing in various directio'ns. ; now and then a sailbo'at, like a snow-white swan, with outstretched wings, gently gliding along its watery path ; then a swift steamer, with its massive columns of smoke curling upward as if trying to darken the silver lining of the fleecy clouds or change into " smoked pearls " the bright " diamonds in the sky ; " and yonder a lighthouse, ever ready, when the shad- ows deepen, to point out to the mariner the deadly breakers. We could look over the billowy waters and see island after island blending away in the dim distance, gaze beyond at the world of water until it met the distant horizon, then raise our eves skyward and admire the many-tinted clouds i84 Hearthstone; Echoes. pictured oai the delicate background of blue and mirrored on the quivering bosom of tlie deep. We went on board the Belle of Suwannee, a medium- sized steamer that plows the gulf and goes " 'way do-wn upon de S'wannee Riber " toward " de ole plantation " con- cerning which the soing author obtained undying f ama THE GEEAT GULF, March 20, 1895, was the windiest day of the season. Part of that day we spent gazing on the rufSed bosoni of the great gulf, as it was maddened by the unusual rush of wind from the southwest. At noon the tide was exceedingly high, and still rising. We watched the myriads of " white- caps " as they danced like things of life over the surging deep ; we watched the bouncing billows as, in their mad fury, they dashed against the wharf; we watched many small boats — reeling, rocking, tossed headlong by wind and waves, sometimes their prow's buried many feet beneath the rushing billows, the next mo'ment high in the air. The fishermen had left their boats securely anchored and had fled to the land, for safety. While standing by the hotel window, I counted thirty-six boats. But look! Yonder goes a sailboat crossing the bay tO' Atsena Otie. It has passengers on board, but not for the wealth of Florida would / be one of them. Winged, foaming steed of the sea ! Like an unruly steed, it is plunging headlong — ^bo'unding, leaping, bouncing over the waves, the foaming water splash- ing, dashing, lashing its sides in wild fury and throwing DixiB Whispers. 185 the silvery spray over its topi, leaving it apparently foam- ing and dripping with perspiration, caused by the intense ecseitement and overexertion of the stormy voyage^. Landed in safety at last! What a eulogy on the one who* con- structed that boat and on thei skillful manager ! The boat was made of strong, sound material, and so' constructed that wind and waves could not easily upset or injure it- After the winds had calmly folded their fluttering wings and the April sun had warmed tiie atmosphere, we were twice favored with a delightful sail on a neat little sailboat, the Eagle. We went several miles, through Waccasasa Bay and out into the Gulf of Mexico prosper. It would take a sharper pencil than mine to describe the magnificent scenery on those short, voyages. We amused ourselves by watching the pelican, the loon, the " negro goose " (black as a crow), the seagull, and various other winged fisher- men as they " sailed the seas over " and skimmed the turbid waters in quest of food. We watched the porpoises (a kind of small whales) as they innocently played along near the sides of our boat, jumping out of the water, each seeming to form itself into a kind of large wheel, then, lowering its head, rolled back into the water. We gazed with wonder at some odd figures, of many bright colors, bouncing up and down in the water^ like the mammoth heads of gigantic animals hidden beneath the wava We learned they were "buoys," made of cork or some other light sub-stance and fastened to dangerous rocks as a warning to sailors. We watched the silvery ripples as they merrily danced in 1 86 Hearthstone Echoes. the sunlight, reflecting in beauty each, ray of the s^un, as if in gratitude for his gentle, warming beams. We are all constantly sailing — not across the Waccasasa Bay, not across the Gulf of Mexico, but across the stormy sea called " Time;." Let us thoroughly examine the vessel carrying us across. Through the instruction of our Guide- book we can test every piece of timber used in our ship, and can know if it is able to weather the blasts to which it is liable to be exposed. SUNRISE AND SUNSET. A most interesting sight is to watch the great day king as in the early morning he calmly arises above the bosom of the gulf, fresh in his beauty and grandeur, and firmly, though kindly, bids darkness depart. At his steady ap- proach the moon and stars modestly veil their fair faces and retire from seirvice until further needed ; each blade of grass, each flower, each leaf, casts off its dark night robe and puts on its Sunday dress ; each sparkling billow throws a kiss at him as he triumphantly passes over. Calmly and steadily he glides along, until the great hour hand tells us we must soon bid him adieu. Lower and lower he sinks ; brighter and more beautiful becomes his reflection. He soon reaches the westecm slo'pes of day. We know he soon must depart. We watch, we gaze, we admirei, we behold the glorious halo he spreads over everything. !N^ow he is almost gone; now he flashes forth again as if desirous of taking one more look at oui' little city before bidding it good Dixie Whispkrs. 187 night. He trembles ; he quiveirs ; he sends back a depart- ing smile toward Cedar Keys; he apparently sinks into a watery grave; he is gone. We feel a strange vacancy in our hearts^ and would be too sad to be comforted were it not for the hope that after the sleep of night we will be per- mitted again to behold him. Thus with the Christian friend. We watch him as he gently glides across life's ocean, shedding a halo' of glory on all around him, letting his light so shine as to prevent many a weary mariner's becoming wrecked on the shoals and break- ers. His light is beautifully reflected from the ripples and billows, growing brighter and brighter as he approaches the westeirn shore. We know we soon must give him up, and how can we sutain the loss ? He is sinking ; he is almost gone. See the brightness of his co'untenance, the result of right living! The community rejoices that he has lived. He speaks encouragingly to God's faithful servants, then sounds a note of warning to the wicked. He can do no more; his voice is stilled; his work is dona He quivers in the breath of death, revives for a moment, whispers to his loved ones to press forward for the prize, kisses them good-by, casts a radiant smile on those around him — is gone! How can we give up such a loved one? If death ends all, we are miserable. But listen ! The gentle Spirit whispers through the word of truth : " Let not your hearts be troubled." After the sleep of death, " when the roll is called up yonder," all who have lived righteously shall meet again and shall shine with resplendent glory. 1 88 Hearthstone; Echoes. Let us not be a storm cloudj darkening the way for cur- selves and others ; but let us each try to be a ray from, the great spiritual lighthouse, that some storm-tossed soul may thereby be rescued and that we may be safely anchored be- yond the mystic sea in the " haven of rest" THISTLE DOWN. What is it I see flying through the air ? Is it a swarm of grasshoppers ? Is it a host of do-^vny featliers blown hither and thither by the breezes ? Are the angels, as the little girl says, shedding their pretty white feathers and let- ting them fall to earth for children to play with ? Won- der what it is! It looks more like myriads of snowflakes escaped from the clouds and blown by wintr^^ breezes. Can this be? ISTo-; for this is a beautiful, bright, balmy Au- gust day; and this place — Corinth, Miss., where I am wait- ing for the " train to take dinner " — is only in latitude thirty-five degrees north. There is no snow here to-day. But look ! Yonder arises a rain cloud about the size of the eventful one seen by Elijah's servant. It is sending its messenger breezes ahead to notify us that about the middle of the afternoon, while the train on the great Southern Railway shall be going at cannon-ball speed between Cor- inth and Tuscumbia, we passengers will begin to fear the approach of a cyclone. And thus it came to pass. The train seemed to be racing with the cloud, like Jezebel of old, Thisti.B Down, 189 and, like her again, was overtaken and flooded with rain; but no harm was done. But what aboiut our little white objects we^ werci watch- ing from the train window at Corinth ? What were they, and what became of them? We know not how far they floated through the air, urged on by the brisk breezes ; but we feel sure many acres were sown with seed to produce a piercing crop the next year, for the pret.ty little downy things were thistle seeds. Only a few years ago, at most, one tiny seed was set adrift from the mother stalk somewhere, we know not whera After some meanderings, by chancei it fell near the railroad crossing at Corinth. l!^o one observed it. Had it been seen, no notice would have been, given it. ; for it was only a trifle — a little downy, trivial seed. But in its own quiet, unassuming way it sought shelter under a blade of grass and nestled down in the blackened soil. It slept ; it died ; its little body began to decay. Months were swept back among the yesterdays. King Winter rigidly ruled until at his death the kingdom was quietly given into the hands of the vernal queen. Then came the annual resur- rection mom. The little seed heart that had in some mys- terious way been preserved awoke from its death slumber, shook off its musty mantle, raised its new head, and opened its new eyes to the light of day. Time, with! fluttering wings, sailed on. By and by over the deserted grave of this thistle seed stood a giant stalk, adorned with branches, leaves, buds, flowers, and seed burs — all beautiful and showing a power more than human. Like cottoo bolls. iQo Hearthstone Echoes. the burs began to open, and soon the air around was filled with flying seeds, which at last imbedded themselves in the fertile soil, sprang forth at the appointed time, and con- verted the surrounding spacer into this garden of thistles. Each stalk is covered with its piercing needles and sends forth its thousands of seeds to be carried elsewhere om the wings of the wind. A little bird, carrying material to build its nest, acei- dentally drops a seed in an old field. Next year a mam- moth thistle grows there, producing thousands of seed, which, in turn, produce multiplied thousands, until the field becomes a mass of thistles. Thus evil can be propagated. The " little bird " is always ready and anxious to carry the seed, and the " rich soil " (the hum.an heart) is ready to receive and nourish it. We usually reap what we sow, in- creased by a prodigious multiplier. Sow slang, reap pro- fanity. Give a little boy a cigarette or glass of toddy. Result: Tobacco- using and intemperance. So' with sharp, harsh words. We may think they fall unheeded, but they often find sad lodgment in a tender heart and bring forth bitter fruits — " some thirty, some sixty, and some a hun- dredfold." This fruit sometimes proves to be harsh words of retaliation; at other times, heart throbs and sighs and tears of anguish. Is it not astonishing that persons can endure more hardness from any other source than from those dearest to> their own hearts ? (I suppose it is because they feel like they are wounding themselves.) The hus- band, though de^'O'ted, sometimes speaks rather unkindly; Thistle Down. 191 the wife '' takes it up," will have her rights — that is, the " last word ; " children join in the chorus — some, with " papa ; " others, '' not going tO' see mamma imposed on." These thistle seeds keep spreading until tjiey " tickle " the neighbors' ears ; then the little " bird " finds employ- ment. Did you ever think of it — when we use a harsh word we are planting seed for an abundant " crop ? " By- ron once said : " The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed." We should use our " guest's voice " at home among loved ones, not save it altogether for strangers and visitors. We can also spare some for them. Our best dress will soon fade or wear out if worn every day. l^ot thus with our best /''acZdress ; " it will grow prettier and better every day by constant use. Four things we can use every day — and Sunday, too — without wearing them out or soiling them: best handwriting, best manners, best words, best religion. We are prone to use them rather sparingly — to save them for company and for Sunday, as if fearful the supply will soon be exhausted if used much. It was Massey who said : " There's no dearth of kindness In this world of ours. Only in our blindness We gather thorns for flowers." " Kind words are better than coronets ; " and, with their aid, influence for good can be easily propagated. Like a 192 Hearthstonk Echoes. grain of wheat or a mustard seed, plant them in proper soil, and the result is often marvelous, Wordsworth considers " the best portion of a good man's life his littlei, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love." Let us not sow so many thistle seed, but in their stead place kind words and deeds, if nothing more than speaking a gentle, encouraging word to the offcast or taking a smiling rosebud to the sick room. Some minds are light as thistle down; They prefer literature light as thistle down; Their education is light as thistle down. Result: Their life work is light as thistle down. "THE WORLD OWES ME A LIVING." " Once upon a time " a handsome youth in this " lajid of liberty " started out in life with the gratifying idea that the world owed him a living. Usually " a bird is known by his feathers ; " so this royal " bird " felt sure he would be read- ily recognized by his gay plumage. Therefore he donned his best suit, adorned himself with a two-story derby, kid gloves, gold-headed cane, bottle of perfume^ a package of cigarettes, and the " cutest " little bat-wing tie of " loudest " colors; then saw again that his hair was carefidly parted in the middle and pasted to his brow, spread his umbrella, bade adieu to the rustic scenes of his old farm home, and proudly started off to rapidly travel " the royal road up tlie hill of science, the flowery path to glory." "Thb WorIvD Owks Me; a lyiviNG." 193 " Heigh-ho, you ten-cemt dude ! " cried his old comrades of the cornfield. " You had better come back and ' hoe your own row ! ' " " I will never ''dig my living out of the ground' any moira ' The world owes me a living/ and I am starting after it," replied the jubilant youth. Soon he reached the foot of Success Mountain, which, to his surprise, could not be " ascended at a single bound." Feeling sure his friends would soon come and carry him to the summit on " flowery beds of ease," he selected the most pleasant shade in what he regarded as " the garden spot of earth," where he could feel " easy as an old shoe " and live off of " the fat of tlie land," and, quietly seating himself on the " stool of doi-nothing," " snug as a bug in a rug," there contentedly waited for the nuts to fall already cracked, for tlie corn to come to him " already shelled." But " what is everybody's business is nobody's business ; " so no one brought the " shelled com." However, he soon had congenial company in the refreshing shade ; for " so- ciety, like water, seeks its level ; " " birds of a feather will flock together;" " miseiry loves company;" and "like cures like." They calmly decided to sit still with folded hands and " wait for the wagon and all take a ride." There was no contention among this crowd of loafers, no "hig I and little you; " for it was about " six of one and half a dozen of the other." There could be no consistency in the " kettle's calling the skillet ' black,' " for the quick reply would have been : "Attend to your own business ; " you had 194 Hkarthstone; Echobs. better " practice what you preach j " and " sweep the trash from before your own door." " It is a long lane that neveo- turns," sighed the youth, growing somewhat impatient awaiting the arrival of his helpful friends. " Perhaps something has happened to' dew tain them, for ' accidents will happen toi the beet of folks.' I may become a little hungry before they get here, but ' eivery bitter has its sweet ; ' the hungrier I becomei, the sweeter will seem the morsel, ( ' It's a poor rule that will not work both ways.') And do you not think that som© folks actually have the audacity to advise me tO' go to work? But I just ' laugh in my sleeve,' while their advice ' goes in at one ear and out at the other.' I will never work for a living if I become ' poor as Job's turkey,' ' poor as a church mouse,' ' ugly as a mud fence,' ' common as dirt,,' and even if they call me ' old mossback.' They tell me I was dol- ing well enough at home and ought tO' have ^ let well enoiugh alone; ' that I had a neat little capital and ' large oaks from little acorns grow ; ' then have tO' ' cap the climax ' with those detestable expressions : 'Just as I expected ! ' ' I told you SO' ! ' But — ^well, the fact is, I was tired of being ' det- prived of my liberties.' ' When the cat's away, the moiuse will play ; ' so, with no parents or teachers near, I can do aa I please, and not have them forever ' treading on my toes.' I also thus keep out of all the little ' family jars ' and dis- cords. I think I am old enough to see after my own, af- fairs, anyway. I'm ' no baby.' True, I am by no mieans a Jumbo or a Hercules, but ' precious goods are in small "Thi? World Owes Me a Living." 195 packages.' There are so many ' old fogies/ always ex- pecting me to be ' neat as a new pin/ yet telling mie not to study so much about my good looks.; that I should be ' useful as well as ornamental ; ' that ' pretty is as pretty does ; ' that ' beauty is but skin deep., ugly is to the bone ; ' that ' children should be seen, not, heard ; ' and reminding me to ' consult my purse before I do, my fancy ; ' that, ' hon~ esty is the beet policy ; ' that ' now is my golden opportu- nity; ' that ' a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; ' that I should ' strike while the iron is hot/ ' make hay while the sun shines ; ' that ' life is not all sunshine/ ' all that glitters is not gold ; ' that ' haste makes waste/ and if I ' marry in haste, I may repent at leisure ; ' that I am ' judged by the company I keep/ should in all things ' take advantage of a doubt,' and ' look before I leap/ for ' the path of glory leads but to the grave; ' that ' trouble®, like fires, never come singly ; ' and that trying to shun trou- bles by wrongdoing is like ' jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.' They say I should not want to ' impose on good nature' by idly eating the bread others have earnedl by the ' sweat of the brow,' for ' one good turn deserves an- other ' and ' every tub must stand on its O'Wn bottom.' Well, ' circumstances alter cases,' and there are ' ecsceptiona to all rules; ' / am an exception. ' It is an ill wind that blows nobody any good.' (True, ' the early bird gets the worm,' but ' the eagle gets the early bird.') There are ' many men of many minds, many birds of many kinds.' I am a ' gentleman of leisure,' yon see. Thus far my pax- 196 Hearthstonk Kchoes. eats and friends have supplied my wants, and I Sikall ' praise the bridge that carries me over safe.' 'A friend in need is a friend indeed.' Sometimes these friends may come in rather late, it is true, as in thie present instance; but 'better late than never.' 'Ignorance is blisis; ' theret- fore I shall never try to learn how to- ' row my oiwn boiat,' to ' paddle my own canoe; ' for ' what is the us© in having friends if I do not u^e them ? ' Work, tO' me, would be a 'bitter pill;' it would be 'death in the pot.' 'Hurry makes worry ; ' so I never expect to ' hurry through life ; ' and if I make a i&istake, I shall not ' lose' any sleepi over it.' There is ' no use in grieving over spilled milk.' ' Better ivhistle than whine.' I shall ' never cross the bridge till I get to it.' I shall never be ' do'Wn in the mouth ' or ' con- vert a molehill into a mountain.' I'll ' never mind the weather, so the wind doesn't blow,' and shall ever remember that ' the darkest cloud has a silvery lining,' ' the darkest hour is just before dawn,' and ' the greater the cross, the brighter the crown.' " But I will be wp and going; probably I shall meet the friends with my living. People call me a ' dead beat,' a ' bum ; ' they say my ' cake is all dough ; ' that if I do not change my course I will soon find myself ' where all bad children go;' that these are 'hard times;' and that when I depend upon so-called ' friends ' to sustain me I am ' leaning on a broken stick ' and ' counting the chick- ens before they hatch.' There may be ' more truth than poetry ' in this ; but if one friend turns a ' cold shoulder ' "Thb WorIvD Owes Me a I^iving." 197 on mei, ther© are ' otheir turtles in the tank ' and ' as good fish in the sea as were ever fished out.' ' Still water runs deep ' and ' a still tongue makes a wise head ; ' sO' I shall ' keep in de middle ob de road/ and not ' kick up a dust ' or make ' much ado aho.ut nothing.' As ' a new broom sweeps clean^' when the new wears off in one' community, I will go to anotJier, where I will be a ' new broo'm ' again. ' The rolling stone gathers nO' moss; ' hence I will never be burdened with surplus property, and ' a short horse is soon curried.' Then I will know that ' who' steals my purse steals trash/ for he ' can't squeeze blood out of a turnip.' " My friend says ' a watclied pot neiver boils/ and urges me to quit watching and waiting for the^ world to bring me a living, even if I have tO' make my headquarteirs in some- body's kitchen, there ' put tbe big pot in the little one/ and be ' chief cook and bottle washer.' I see, he wants me to ' root, hog, or die.' He says ' every dog has his day,' and that I have now had mine. He then advises me to ' turn over a new leaf ' and go to work for a living, to ' catch opportunity by the forelock.' He says ' experience is a dear school, but fools will learn in no other.' He tells me that ' a man of words, and not of deeds, is like a garden full of weeds ; ' that ' an idle brain is the devil's work- shop ; ' that I had better be 'Jack at all trades ' tban at none; and that by continuing my wanderings from home I am ' cutting off my nose to spite my face,' but I'm notr— it's to Iceep froirn work. He says I will always, keep my ' nose to the grindstone ' (but if I have cut off my noee, I 1 98 Hearthstone; Echoes. guesa I wooi't). He tells me I ' don't know whick side of my bread is buttea^ed.' (JSTeitber side is butteired since I left home, and now even my bread is gone. ) He says ' if the shoe fits, wear it.' (I feel like 'most any kind of shoes wonld fit me now, if I co'uld get theim without work. ) " But — O, hush ! — here he comes again. (' Speak of an angel, and we hear the flutter of his. wing; ' speak of the other fellow, and ' his imps will appeiax.' He always has to have ^ a finger in the pie.') He says ' a hint tO' the wise is sufficient.' Then I hope he will bei sufficiently wise to take the hint; I've no use for it. I wish he would quit * whipping tlie old boy around the stump ' and would ' meas^ lire the co'm in his own half bushel.' He is ' feeding on wind ' when advising mc' — is ' feeding pigs on diamonds.' True, I often promise him I will ' do better neixt time ; ' but ' promises are like pie crusti — made tO' be broken.' He should remember to ' think twice before he speaks,' for ' murder will out ' and ' chickens will come ho^me to roost; ' therefore his own meanness ' will cro'p out ' somei day. It makes a great difference as to ' whose oix is gored,' and ' he that lives in a glass house should not throw stones.' He is ^ no saint ' himself, and (now this is a ' mighty secret ') he is always ' heels over head in debt ' — ' just barely can make tongue and buckle meet.' He is as full of good advice as ' an egg is of meat,' but always has ' an ax tO' grind,' al- ways has ' an ox in the ditch,' and, in order tO' get it out, is willing to ' rob Peter to pay Paul.' If you ' give him an inch, he will take an ell ' every time. His brains are "The; World Owks Me; a IvIving." 199 ^ scarce as hen's teeth ; ' his tongue, ' limber as a dish rag ; ' his character, ' spotted as a leopard.' He is ' ugly as a caterpillar,' ' stingy as a miser,' ' sly as, a serpent,' yet ' bold as a lion ; ' is ' ill as a hornet,' ' cross as a bear,' ' slom as a tortoise,' ' lazy as a sloth,' yet ' busy as a bee ' (in other people's matters). He is undoubtedly the 'tackiest' man I have ever seen. ' Says I to myself : ' ' O, coinsistency, thou art a jewel ! ' " But ' least said is sooneist mended ; ' and ' as. we are not to be heard for our much speaking nor commended for our loud crying,' I would not say a word against him ' for love nor money.' I do not believe in retail atioai. I've no time for gossip, any^vay, and have my opinion of a busybody, a backbiter, or a tattler ; still, I do wish he could ' see Mm- self as others see him,' for he is a complete ' snake in the grass.' 'A guilty conscience is the worst accuser.' I woib der if his conscience doesn't lash him. He says I had as well ' hunt a needle in a haystack ' as an honest living with- out work. He keeps reminding me that ' procrastination is the thief of time,' and that ' time and tide wait for no man.' He says I ought not to want to be a loafer and ' eat idle bread ' (but I tell you I would enjoy a loaf of any kind just now, whether it be idle or busy. Idle bread would taste better than none. I would not now object to the con- tents of some of the little ' family jars '). He thinks I had better quit sowing ' wild oatS;,' lest I become tired of gath- ering the harvest (' 0, my ! ' I now feel like I could gladly welcome the harvest field, for I am ' hungry as a 200 Hbarthstonk Echoes. wolf.') His advice is to begin making amends- as soon as possible; tliat a ' stitcb in time save® nine.' (Well^ I don't like to mend ; so- he is entitled to tke ' stitch/ alsoi the ' nine.') He emphatically quotes ' noi excellence witho'Ut labor/ and 'laJjor omnia vincit.' (He is welcome to all the excellence that has to be- obtained by labor, even if it does make him ' conqueoroir of all things.') He: coimes. with that stale ' old chestnut ' that ' there wiR be briers where berries grow.' (Let him please go among the briers and bring me the berries;. ) ^An ounce of prevention, is worth a pound of cure,' says he. (Then he may keep' the preven,- tion and kindly give me the cure.) His final caution is: ' Take care of the dimeSj and the dollars will take care of themselves.' I would rather he would take care of his dimes and let his dollars take care of me; for I ami sure ' the world owes me a living,' and I must have it." Moral: 1. He: who thinks the world owes him a living is an ingratei 2. Wholesome advice is not always favorably re- ceived. 3. It takes haK of a man's time toi attend tio his own business; the other half, to let other people's, business alone. Examine your well rope. It represents the thread of ■ur destiny. your destiny. " Gripps Rigors." 201 " GRIPPE RIGORS.^ '' Foe three long hours this little engine within my bosom has been beating as if almost exhausted. Its little ham- mers have been falling so lightly on the various parts of my body their strokes have been scarcely perceptible, Eor more than an hour (2 to 3 A.M.) I have been sitting by the fire working faithfully to get warm. I am suffering no special pain, but this feeling keeps me very uncomforta- ble. Loved ones here are sweetly sleeping, and I think it unnecessary to awaken them, for I feel almost sure I will soon be as well as usual again. If otherwise, this little note will explain the reason." [The foregoing was written verbatim and in all earnest- ness, though not in the least excitement, during one of those peculiar cool stages I call ''' grippe rigors," which are caused by repeated attacks of la grippe, and which have often for several hours threatened to forever stop the action of my heart. The remainder of this little article was written dur- ing a similar spell, while again hovering over the fir© be- tween midnight and day.] These attacks usually come on like a thief in the night, and often last for several hours. Striking the center of my back, like cold-blooded centipeds, they then crawl in all di- rections, making me shiver while they crawl. They do not usually cause much pain, but are disagreeable in the ex- treme, are like the old man's religion — " worse felt than told." They also have a seriously undermining effect on the constitution because of their hostile attack on the gen- eral nervous system. 202 H:eARTHSTONE; BCHOES. Thero is another kind of cold spells some of us often have, which I will call " spiritual (?) rigors." Both kinds are sometimes interspersed with spontaneous hot flashes. (Beware of extremes!) In both kinds of rigors our use- fulness is greatly impairedj if not destroyed. Both show bad circulation. The heart fails to do its duty. Kemedies: In both instances we need specific treat- ment. The patients will not often get well of themselves. In both, like the drowning man, we often catch at a straw; in both we are greatly imposed upon by frauds; in both many patent medicines are taken, with but poor result; in both we need more warmth, the system needs " toning up," we need something for our blood; in both we are benefited by rubbing and by general exercise. La grippe and its evil train of attendants furnish a widespread and fertile field for the osteopath. In the first ailment we sometimes resort to some kind of stimulants, as quinine or " Peiruna ; " in the second ailment we should always imbibe freely of the great Spirit of truth and life. One of the best remedies for the first ailment is a big fire, but it is hard for us to get our consent to leave the warm bed; we feel like we will freeze before we can reach the fire. So with the " spirit- ual (?) rigor." We need the great source of spiritual heat — the only infallible remedy — ^but it is so hard to give up our bed of worldliness, though its warmth is insufficient to keep off the dangerous, if not fatal, cool stages. Ini the first we naturally resort, to an unreasonable amount of coiver and tuck it closely " around and about us " to break up the A Charm String. 203 rigor, but even tliis usually fails ; in the second we try kard to cover our spiritual (?) defects by putting on tliei " cloak of righteousness " and drawing it close around us, without first thawing the frozen heart. This may hide thei cold, hypocritical heart from man, but not: from God. In short, in both kinds of rigors we need a purified heart and system, with regular circulation. A CHARM STRING. Iisr the well-rememb€red bygones we girls made charm strings. We each selected a small, smooth cord or ribbon, and on it we strung little relics of almost every description: — buttons, shells, small coins, finger rings, earrings., breast- pins — any little present that could reasonably occupy a space on that famous cord. This is a neat way to preserve little relics of " ye olden times." Ey a little effort we can form a beautiful and valuable charm string — a string of pearls — ^by daily stringing on the cord of memory some bit of useful knowledge, a fact from history, or a scientific truth worth knowing. There isi an ocean of pearls spread out before us, covering the vast ex- panse at our eye's command. — ^yea, more and more, far more than this: the broad gates to vast fields of solid lore are thrown open wide, and the standing invitation is : " Come in, you that hunger and thirst after knowledge, and gather whatsoever you will." From that magnificent fountain of divine wisdom^, the 204 Hearthstone Echoes. Bible, we may obtain another string of glittering gems. Think of the satisfaction we could have in after life from this kind of a biblical charm string, for that which is learned in youth is not soon forgotten. If throughout life we would grasp and retain even one item each day, wei would soon have a string of sacred pearls more precious than dia- monds and rubies rich and rarei, information important in this life and of inestimable value in preparing for the life beyond. Christ is the great spiritual Charm String holding the sa- cred Scriptures together, and the hands of divine love were busy four thousand years hanging jewels on this life-giving, life-sustaining cord. First charm : The wondrous work of creation, which be- gan by calling for light and ended in the creation of man. If the all-powerful God would not venture to arrange his works in the dark, why will vain man attempt to do so, while there is so much light at his command ? And why is it those with the least spiritual light often try to change, ar- range, and rearrange God's works and ways ? Lesson from this charm : Obtain light before proceeding, then be care- ful how we proceed. Second charm: A promised Savior. Again and again this sweet charm of promise is repeated, each time present- ing new angles and shining more brilliantly. We see a very peculiar-looking relic — a sacrifice on Jewish altars. At first sight it is a mystery. We investigate it in spiritual light, and through it we see in the distance the paschal A Charm String. 205 Lamb for sinneirs slain. Thus one by one the charms are added — one prophecy after another, then the glorioras scheme of redemption, then promise after promise:, imtil the cord is filled, the last charm being : " Blessed are they that do his commandments," etc. God's purposes., pTOph- ecies, preparations., and promisee beautifully cluster aro'und this wondrous cord, making it the most charming of all charm strings, one end of which is hung over Eden's gate ; the other, heldby the loving John on the lonely Patmos isle. ISTay, it extends farther : it reaches back to eternity past, then for- ward to the throne of the Eternal^ where it is held secure by the hand of undying Lova One end of the cord seems far away, as if far back in a dark cavern, and we cannot realize its beauty; but as we approach the door, the way grows lighter and brighter until it bursts into perfect day and the grandeur of each charm is made manifest. This cord at Eden's gate looks dim. By standing there we can- not properly estimate its charms., but the light grows stronger all along the centuries until it reaches tlie cross.. Then all is bright ; and, aided by the effulgent beams of the cross, we can look back and realize and appreciate the splen- dor of each charms then look forward and view tlie glories along the Christian's path and those encircling the throne of God. Break a strand of beads, or a charm string, and the relics will be scattered. Thus with the great spiritual Charm String. If the central idea — Christ — should be removed, all would be lost and man would be completely undone. 2o6 Hearthstone Echoes. But — thanks to our blessed. Fatiier! — this can never be. Bigoted man has exhausted his powers trying to snap the spinal cord of Christianity, then has clasped his quivering hands upon his dying bosom, and, in horrifying tones, ex- claimed : " Bemorse, remorse ! " God has granted us the' privilege of attaching ourselves to this wonderful cord, thus adding glory — not to it^ but to ourselves. Again — alas ! — ^we can easily sever ourselves therefrom and voluntarily cast our souls into endless ruin; but even this will not mar the splendor of a single remain- ing charm. Christ's invitation is to all ; his promise is only to the faithful. DANGER SIGNALS. I. THE WARNING CRY. "When the mother bird sees the approaching eagle, she shrieks to her little ones as a warning to hide amid the leafy branches; when the domestic mother fowl sees the cunning hawk swooping down, she sends forth a loud note of warning, then hastens to gather her brood under her wings. Even the swine, usually regarded as so dull and by some so contemptible, are wise enough to discern the weather signals afld prepare their winter beds as the cold wave ad- vances. They seem to keep up with the " signs of the times " even better than some of their masters. When the early settler heard the panther's scream or the red man's Danger SignaivS. 207 war whoopj he shuddered and iled for life or prepared for battle. Another danger is approaching, and the warning cry has been sounded. A cold, threatening wave is advancing to envelop humanity if preparation is not made against it. Another war whoop has been sounded ; another shrill shriek has been reverberated from continent to continenti, from shore to shore. The archenemy has marshaled his forces against the people of God^ and Heaven sends forth th,e warning cry. Think of the Savior^s touching rebuke: " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gather- eth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! Be^ hold, your house is left unto you desolate." The humble creatures of instinct give heed to danger sig- nals. The squirrel forgets not to provide for the future; the tiny ant lays up his winter store. Thei threatened birdie usually heeds the note of warning and flees to a safety nook, but sometimes he seems to think he knows best, and that the danger is sO' far away there is no need for haste. Way- ward man hears the: danger peals and sometimes hastens to the place of refuge, but at other times he indifferently faces the advancing foe, and consequently endures many a need- less struggle before breaking loose from the poisonous grasp. Alas ! too often he is never released therefrom.. Bible notes of warning have been sounded all along the line from Eden to Gethsemane, thence to the magic vision 2o8 Hearthstone Echoes. on the lonelj isle. Warning' notices kave been given concern- ing all the evil connected with this life. Solomon " tacked "up " hundreds of these notices, which are not yet weather- heaten, hut are in clear type and applicable to all times and nations. In onr confused rush through life let us take time to consider a few of these. " If sinners entice theci, con- sent thou not," " Divers weights, and divers measures, both of them are alike abomination to the Lord." " It is better to dwell in the corner of the house top, than with a brawling woman in a wide house." " The drunkard and the glut- ton shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clotliei a man with rags." The prophets, the Savior, and the apostles kept speaking tender words of warning, many of which have been kindly left on record for our admonition. " Woe to them that are at ease in Zion ! " " What I say unto you I say un,to all. Watch." " Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." " Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." " See that no man take thy crown." The last signal in the great book of warning and promise is against adding to or taking from God's word of truth, and this is in immediate connection with a precious beatitude to those who " do his commandments." How important for us to give close heed to our Fath- er's warning cry! "He that hathi ears to hear, let him hear." Dange;r Signai^. 209 ii. waening lights. Do you see that lantern yonder, hanging low over th© street? Do yon know its purpose? It is a danger signal to warn the belated traveler. In its own peculiar laji^age it says : " Do not come this way ; there is danger here ! " This lantern is usually suspended over an open ditch. There is a great number of Bible lanterns suspended along life's highway to show the ditches or places of danger. One point of danger is self-conceit, and its Bible lantern is : " Every way of a man is right in his own eyes ; but thfi Lord pondereth the hearts." " Be not wise in your own conceits." Extravagance is another point that needs guard- ing :'" Gather up the fragments, . . . that nothing be lost." Habitual carelessness : " Lot all things be done decently and in order." Procrastination in spiritual duties: "Now is the accepted time." Selfishness : " God loveth a cheerful giver." Give " not grudgingly," etc. Indifference toward parents : " Honor thy father and tJiy mother." Impatience: " Let patience have her perfect work." Profanity: " Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain." " Swear not at all." Laziness or idleness: " If any would not work, neither should he eat." " Go to the ant, thou sluggard: consider her ways, and be wise." Intemperance: " Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging ; and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise." The drunkard shall not " inherit the kingdom of God." (1 Cor. 6: 9, 10.) " Woe unto him that giveth his neighbor drink! " Falsehood: 2IO Hkarthstone) Echoes. "A false witness shall perish." " Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do," etc. Some of these are such dangerous ditches and sO' many persons persist in traveling that way, several lanterns are suspended along them ; so if the wayfaring man falls there- in, it will be alone through his own carelessness. Many other danger pits are clearly pointed out, such as oppressing the poor, theft, cheating, oovetousness, malice, hatred, hypocrisy, extortion, idolatry. At least one Bible lantern is suspended at each danger point. When in dan- ger or doubt, look for a light. If there, beware ! There are many " blind ditches " along life's road, and some of them are not securely covered. Beware of them! Step cautiously! Some are where the road appears firm- est and most attractive. Though the beautiful city, Ve- nice, is " throned on her hundred isles " and her streets are vast water mirrors, reflecting in grandeur the work of skilled architects, still she possesses her Bridge of Sighs. A person may think he is walking in all safety and never suspect any danger, until suddenly the trapdoor gives way beneath his feet and he sinks down to meet his f M,rf ul doom. Thus there are trapdoors placed by man's great enemy all along life's highway to engulf the unsuspecting traveler in the pit of destruction, and the warning light says : " Be not deceived." God has suspended these danger signals low enough fear us by their light to discern the flaws in the bridges and to keep out of the quicksands of deceit. If closely observed. Dange;r Signai^. 211 they will be a sure guide for the young and inexperienced who have not traveled life's road long enough to know where the dangers lie. These warning lights for children should be wisely managed at homei, on tlie streets, in school, in Sun- day school, in church — everywhere. Do not flash your light at them occasionally, like a blinding electric flash, then let it go out, leaving Egyptian darkness. Such lights are blinding, deceiving, treacherous. Beware of them, lest the children become disgusted and prefer darkness. Tke lan- tern of true Christianity emits a clear, steady light. III. THE YELLOW FLAG. We read of its being in cities remote — in that " far-away fairyland across the Atlantic." Later the newspapers say it has crossed the briny blue and has reached the coast citi^ of our home country. It comes nearer, still nearer. They tell us it is in our little town. We house ourselves through fear. We see it waving at the gates of sO'Uie of our good neighbors. We shudder and are sad. We know not the day nor the hour when it will be placed at our own door. What does it indicate ? Deadly disease. What does it say ? "Stay aivay; beivarej use every precaution!" (Such was once really our experience, when smallpox visited our town.) There are many " yellow flags " in our physical environ- ments. One is placed at every danger station; and as it quivers in the balmy breezeSj we read on it the oft-verified truth : " Violate a law of nature, and you shall suffer the 212 He^arthstone) Echoes. penalty," Along tJie intellectual and moral highways there are bypaths leading off to idle resorts, to places abounding in low classes of literature and evil associationSj where the mind will be starved by feeding on froth and tlie character will be degraded by wicked conduct. Where each bypath leaves the path of rectitude' there is a tollgatci, and on it is this glittering, dazzling motto: "Come through,; we have a feast in store for you, and gladly hid you welcome! " Just above hangs that horrid yellow flag, on which is written in black letters : " Eemember, you must always 'pay the toll ! " Many, attracted by the beautiful motto or invitation in the gilded frame, pass through the gate without observ- ing the dingy yellow flag until too late; others arei warned of it, but go heedlessly on, " The strait and narrow way " to the holy city is clearly pointed out, and danger signals along the roadside warn us not to overlook the stepstones. Yes, the Book of Life hangs out many yellow flags denot- ing sin. Do we see them ? Are we trying hard to shun the deadly contagion they indicate ? Are we prone to consider them as relating not to ourselves, but to some foreign land or nation, and thus neglect to notice how rapidly they are approaching us ? Do we ever let it beco^me necessary to place the yellow flag at the door of our own hearts ? Do we permit the deadly contagion (sin) to enter therei and feast upon our souls ? In some cities the yellow flags become so common many persons walk imder them heedlessly, not discerning nor considering their import. In like manner many disre- Danger Signai^s. 213 gard the Bible's warnings. Tkey are too quick to con- sider themselves " immunes " against sin. Where the Bible flag savs, " Be not deceived," they step right O'ut into the quicksands of deception; where the warning is, "Abstain from all appearance of evil," they walk into the sa- loon door ; where it says, " Be sure your sin will find you out," they try to hide themselves in the hypocrite's cloak and call it " righteousness ; " where it says, " Eorsake not the assembling," etc., they stay at home or go visiting; where it admonishes, "Watch," they close their eyes; where it says, " 'Now is the accepted time," they quickly respond : " Wait until to-morrow." We should carefully observe all these danger signals and ward off the disease (sin), then at the end of the heavenly highway we will see the beautiful floating, fluttering, snow- white flag of peace and on it in letters of purest gold, " Who- soever mil may come; " and, " Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the <»ty." IV. THE STORM HOrSE. " The sky is overcast, and musters muttering thunder In clouds that seem approaching fast, and show In forked flashes a commanding tempest." Of some storms fatal tO' parts of our native land people have been notified while the winds were still sporting with the billows of the Caribbean Sea. What a wonderful power this ! "What a blessing to have such warning, given by the 214 Hearthstones Echoes. weather signal announciiig the approacliing starmi! It kindly warns the people to prepare their property against danger as best they can, then fleei to a plaxje of refuge. IsTev- ertheless, many are heedless, and will not try tO' protect themselves, even though a strong, reliable storm house may be at their own door. An objector argues thus: "Many a man has survived a storm without being cramped up in a storm house, and so can I; at least I am willing to risk my chances. I do not enjoy being kept so close; do^ not want to be deprived of my liberties ; want to be a free man." The cloud arises ; the wind sweeps the land ; " the thunder, winged with red lightning and impetuous rage/' deepens its groaning, and, with peal after peal, convulses the elements. The presump- tuous, seK-willed man hears the tempest growl and sees it " wrapping ether in a blaze." He sees the giant oak hum- bly yielding to the tempest's breath and realizes he himself is in danger. Then he hastens to the storm house and en- ters, to the great delight of those within who have long realized his danger and have been pleading with him and beckoning to him to come. He feels sweet relief, realizing he is beyond the tornado's reach, even while the storm cloud is still lurid with lightning and the elements still groaning as if beneath a crushing weight. He hears the roaring ele- ments, the crashing of timbers and houses, and the shrieks of his neighbors, but knows he could not be of any advantage to them whatever by coming out and would be running great risk himself. He feels confident he is safe while within, Danger Signals. 215 but does not like certain individuals who are in tke storm house, and soon becomes tired of the confinement,. He de- cides he is willing to "risk his chances" outsideij wheire he can have more room and more liberties, and. comes out, facing the storm — voluntarily runs into the merciless jaws of death. Are you astonished at this man's actions ? He thus rep- resents a large portion of our race. There is a magnificent " storm house " already prepared by the great Architect, who makes no mistakes. It has abundant room for all man- kind, and in it man can obtain all that is necessary for true enjoyment. It is proof against the ravaging cyclone and the surging billows of life's deceptive sea. The danger sig- nal warns all to flee to this place of safety, and lovingly says: " When the shelt'ring Rock is so near by, O, why will you die? " Many heed the warning ery, and soon find succor in the church of God's people, the great spiritual storm house, where they remain unshaken until life's tempest ceases to rage. They wonder why they remained outside even so long as they did. Others are too self-willed, skeptical, or indifferent to enter ; others enter, but leave too soon. They do not " enjoy the confinement," and are extremely con- scientious as to the customs of the church ; so they begin to " pick flaws," and soon decide they cannot " fellowship " some of the " brethren." Without wisely considering how much worse it is outside, they rashly conclude to risk it, 2i6 Hkarthston:^ Kchous. and come out, witliout the slightest assurance of protection. Thus they are without promise, without hope, and without God. Although the church of God is the grand spiritual storm house — " the shrine of refuge from life's stormy throng " — it will avail us nothing unless we enter the same and therein remain faithful. V. THE SINKING SHIP. Good-by, old ship ! You are taking from our shore many of our friends. See them waving and casting back at us their love glances ! It is a pleasure ship, and carries a vast excursion. It is considered " Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle." It has just launched out on the level brine, and leaves the shore triumphantly. Bright sunbeams are painting ita shadow on the Pacific waters. On and on, day after day, night after night, it softly glides over the bosom blue. " She walks the waters like a thing of life. And seems to dare the elements to strife." All on board feel safe, and shouts of merriment ring forth, only to be lost on the watery world ; not a cliff, not a stone, not a mountain or hillock to echo the sound ; only the low murmuring of the deep waters to respond to the gleeful sail- ors, while the heavens in majesty look dovm upon them with smiles from myriads of eyes — tranquil, serene, glo- rious. Dangkr Signai^s. 217 But a breeze from the westward brings into view a pecul- iarly-shaped cloud, which soon begins to attract tbe atten- tion of the crew. The wind is rising higher and higher; the " whitecaps "' glistening in the sunbeams, grow into mountain waves ; the cloud advances rapidly ; the sun hides his face in gloom ; the affrighted sailors turn pale with awe ; tbe billows throw high their silvery spray and whiten the deck with foam, while they lash the tottering, reeling, al- most drowning vessel. Amid the piteous pleadings of friends and captain, some of the frantic sailors leap overboard, with heartrending shrieks, "as if eager to anticipate their graves," and are soon devoured by hungry ravagers await- ing prey. The brave captain tries in vain to quell the fears of all on board, confidently assuring thexn he will land them safe in the harbor if they will obey his orders ; and the faith- ful pilot stands firm at duty's post, having told them re- peatedly the cloud was passing around. The thunder's peal becomes more distant, the electric flash is not so constant, the winds fold their wings in meek sub- mission, the eixcited billows drop to sleep. The birdlike vessel trembles wearily, as from excitement and fear; per- spiration trickles down her sides ; the sun unveils, his glow- ing features to smile t.he mists away ; while the rainbow of victory arches the space between the vessel and the receding cloud. The pale-faced mariners take on new life; and those who have remained on board, standing firm by the captain's orders, are soon landed in a quiet harbor, with joy and gratitude unspeakable. 2i8 Hearthston:^ Echoes. Thus the old Ship of Zion passes through many storm clouds, is '' rocked upon, the raging billows," and is often threatened with destruction ; but the faithful Pilot remains unswerving. Christ Jesus, the Captain, tenderly speaks good cheer, assuring us that if we will remain on board, following his directions, we will be securely anchored in the haven of peace. Regardless of the loving entreaties of Cap- tain and friends, many shrink from approaching danger and leap overboard, and are sure to find awaiting them those who are ready to drag them intO' the jaws of a fearful and eternal death. Another ship is sailing on life's turbulent sea, under the management of another captain and crew, and carrying a different company of travelers. It is the Sliip of Destruc- tion. It is not seaworthy; the captain (Satan) is not reli- able ; the pilot is deceitful ; the crew is unstable as the wind. An intelligent man remains thereon to be with particular friends who will not leave with him, and who not only rid- icule the idea of his leaving, but also' offer him inducements to stay. Though fully aware of the treacherous condition, he heeds their entreaties, agreeing that " the cloud is in the distance; there is time enough yet." He sees the danger signal and has plenty of time to go to the stronger vessel, which " throws out a life line " to rescue each of his crowd. The noble crew and faithful Captain of the stronger vessel keep urging him to " Come over ! " pointing toward the danger signal and to the advancing cloud, and sending forth loud notes of warning. '" There is time enough yet. Do Th:^ Miragk. 219 not be uneasy about me. I am coming after a while, but am not quite ready to leave my old chums. Moreover, there is a man on your ship I cannot, fellowship. I will not go aboard while he is there." Thus he does not give up his revelry " nor heed the storm that howls along the sky," but only glances occasionally at the approaching storm cloud. Soon he begins tO' hear the elements sadly gTOianing under thci fearful battle, then feels the vessel quivering, rocking, reeling ; hears the crashing of its weak timbers and knows it is sinking into^ endless ruin. Then he sends forth his pit- eous shrieks to the Captain of the safety ship : " Lord, save, or we perish ! " But his tottering vessel has been wafted too far away ; it is sinking ; he is gone. " Tooi latei, too late!" On which vessel are you sailing, kind friend, kind reader ? THE MffiAGE. Far away in desert lands, and even in the western por- tion of our own proud galaxy of States, we have pictures striking and grand. The traveler is gazing intently on the desert waste, when suddenly appears a beautiful landscape. How delicate the touchings and tracings of the magic pen- cil, as if some angelic artist had been summoned to please the eye of man ! Eocky cliffs and shady glens ; large trees gnarled and twisted by the tempest's breath; an old picket fence, some panels broken down, others leaning; a rustic cabin on the hillside — all these things, and many more, over- 220 Hbarthstone Kchoe;s. look a crystal lake on which a lone swan is floating, which in an instant is accompanied by a score of its mates. The next moment they dive beneath the crystal ripples. The fence, house, trees, hills — all, all tumble headlong into that sea of glass and disappear, and all is desert waste again. In a short time another scene appears before him, just as strik- ing, but entirely different This is illusion — a magnificent trick played on the retina of the human eye by reflection and refraction, the theory of which is more e'asily talked about than explained. Much of life's joy and heartache, its sunshine and shadow, is merely a suspended mirage — an illusion. Many of Oiur plans — our air castles and our rosiest hopeS' — are only a play upon the imagination ; and, before we are especting it, they tumble over into a mystic sea, a lake of teiars. How- ever, much in life is real, and we should cautiously draw the line of distinction. We see lakes and oceans on whose blue bosoms we watch the ships sailing smoothly a while, then plunging madly over the rolling waves ; wo see homes happy a little while, then transformed into demon hovels. On life's vast, outstretched prairie or desert, may be seen places of resort where man indulges in all kinds of narcot- ics, intoxicants, vile language, and many other evils. He usually resorts thither long after the sun bids him good night and " the curtains of night are pinned back by a star." " Full glasses are carried to tlie table, empty O'ues are car- ried back" (as suggested by Pomeroy). Time is squan- Thb Mirage. 221 dered, cards are shuffled, money is wagered. The foul- scented room becomes smoky ; the lamp, be^ns to blush at the red eyes, the dull brains, and the coarsei stories told. The clock points its busy finger to twelve ; but his brain is too cloudy, his eye too dull, to see it. Just over yonder in that little hut is a heartbroken woman, worn and weary with her waiting. ISTight after night she has been thus deprived of rest, until that once beautiful face is pallid with care. " The clock in the steeple strikes one.'' " Has papa tum? " asks the baby girl, arousing fram childish slumber. " 'No, lit- tle pet; lie still and go to sleep," replies the mother, forc- ing a cheerful tone. The little innocent returns to slumbOT land, leaving " mamma " again watching and weeping alone. Two o'clock, three o'clock ! Hush ! There are footsteps on the walkj but listen to the heart throbs in that woman's bosom! Those footsteps are not steiady. She slyly peeps through the broken window blinds ; sees his reeJing, tottering form ; hears his bitter oaths as he stumbles over tlie broken- down gate. He " bangs " against the barred door, which she must open at his ruthless bidding. He staggers into the room, cursing her for the very darkness he has caused by not providing material for light and by driving every spark of radiance from her once bright soul. The rest of the scene we leave to your imagination. Will some friendly " so-called ' science' ' " happily conie to our relief and say this is only an illusion, not a reality ? Yonder is a splendid home, with charming environments. The triplet sisters — Love, Humility, and Sunshine — dwell 222 Hejarthston:^ Echoes. there, and Happiness there makes her abode. In the shady lawn we see some rustic seatSj on which two lovers sit and chat and quietly plan for the future. They are surrounded by grass plots and fragrant flowers and cheered by the aerial choir. We count two more years as they are marked on the great calendar; we see these rustic seats transformed into a little damp, cold grave; we behold these same two lovers, now mourners bowing over the lowly mound. A little later we see the silken lace and fine embroidery of that lovely trousseau transformed into a shroud or burial robe. The same nimble fingers that two years ago played the wed- ding m-arch for these two lovers now softly accompany the voices that sweetly and touchingly sing " Some Sweet Day " and " Death is Only a Dream ; " the same hands that so lovingly arranged the bridal arch now sadly fasten down the coflSn lid; those who acted as ushers at the hymeneal altar now tenderly bear the wife's beautiful casket to the hearse; the same livery outfits that with quickened step brought the bridal party toi the church now slowly and solemnly take them tx> the " silent city " — " funeral marches to the grave." There is onlj one lover now^ and he is a sad mourner over two little mounds. Is this illusion, or is it reality ? We see another family circle broken, a front room whose stillness is heavy and terrible with death. Listen ! A si- lent step', careful breathing, " low whisper as the sheet is turned back to show the once warm lips now cold and blue in death" (Pomeroy). The crowd of mourners, the slow procession to the grave, the hollow rattle upoiQ the co'ffin — The; Mirage. 223 all come before us in detail like a panorama. We hear the new-made widow's sobs and the children piteously calling: " Father ! O, father ! " But there are some who say this is mere illusion. If so, life is an illusion; death, heaven, and torment are illusions. Such ideas are certainly illu- sions, and those who cherish them are complicated illusions of the queerest kind. Trucj, " many a ghost has proved to be a shadow ; many a mountain, but a lake of fog." Im- agination has much to do with our " ups and downs " in this life, and our minds can be controlled somewhat by our wills ; but the world is deceived by many false notions and false theories, the chief est of which is infidelity, with aU its kin- dred troupe. Doubtless there are millions of ideas yet to be born; but certainly none of them will be more incon- sistent, more contradictory, more ridiculous, than some of these, and no doubt many of them will be the offspring of these. What do such ideas promise a man that is elevating to him or in any way beneficial ? What promise of heaven is vouchsafed thereby ? They may promise much, but it is like promising a child an apple when you cannot give even a seed. They build nothing; they tear down everything. " Shake a rattle box before purchasing." The child will buy it because of its gay stripes, when probably it does not con- tain enough shot, gi'avel, dry peas, or common sense to make a respectable " rattle." So with many man-made theories. Some (and, strange tO' say, some with more than ordinary intelligence) will grasp them for their " gay stripes " and 224 Hearthstone; Echoe;s. because tkey are " soanetihing new." Each, will have be^ lievers and followers, no matter how inconsistent or contra- dictory its theory, no matter how small the goal to whick it aspires. "We should " shake " it and see if it contains enough of God's truth to " rattle." If not, we should bury it deep in the darkest oblivion and plant the tree of faith, hope, and love on its grave. Erelong th.e Christian graces will spring up thereon, will bud and blossom and yield rich fruit a hundredfold. Let the tomahawk and the battle-ax of the infidel, with which he has soi long been fighting the oauise of our Eedeemer, be buried with him. Death will put an end to- his claims by and by; and when he realizes he is rushing through its portals, doubtless he will exclaimi, as a renowned infidel of the past is said to have exclaimed, with remorse: "O God, if there be a God_, have mercy on my soul, if I have a soul ! " 'No' wonder Paul admonished : "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." Time is too precious to. waste in investigating th.ese ab- surdities which lead the mind from God and from a love for his cause. W© should surmount thesei erroneoius theories, walk over them, step on a higher plane far above the mirage of the prairie or the desert waste, and from which we can look across the mystic beyond tO' the culmination of God's love. The youth's favorite toy : His father's pocketbook. " Watch— Be; Ready ! " 225 ''WATCH— BE READY r' His countenance was pleasing and familiar; his moive- ments, graceful; his appeiarance, niiajestic. It seeimed that she recognized his face, so calm, yet so earnest; but her eyes soon rested on that beautiful banner suspended above his uplifted hands. O, that wonderful " banner " (if such we may call it) ! How it enraptured her gaze ! It enchanted her very soul. !N'ever had she seen anything half so beautiful. The most gifted tongue or pen can never find language to describe it. She gazed with delight, she wondered, she admired. How could anything be sO' lovely ? It was transparent, though composed of all the brightest and most attractive colors, like some fantastically-arranged stained-glass window; like the most elegant and marvelous construction in mosaic in- terspersed with beautiful flowers and with bright, glitter- ing, blinking, twinkling stars ; like a Aagnificent rainbow all in a quiver, extending from east tO' west athwart the globe; like the sublime display of lights she had witnessed at the Tennessee Centennial ; like the finest wires of spun glass, all colors, woven, into the most intricate gauze and hanging in midair like some beautiful suspended mirage. The background was darker, thus displaying to better ad- vantage the brilliant colors and those stars and flowers of indescribable beauty. She stood enchanted ; she gazed with ecstasy. It tarried long before her enraptured vision, though she constantly feared it would depart. But this was not all. It presented in large, distinct let- 226 Hisarthstone; Echoes. ters of exquisite beauty the expressive and impressive in- scription : " Watck — Be Eeady ! " It was a dear old lady who witnessed this exquisite dis- play. She read the striking words, then exclaimed : " O, the advent, the advent ! " The sight produced peculiar feelings of mingled joy and grief. She thought it signified the speedy approach of a great Overseer, who, for some cause, would require exactness in the arrangement of each home. Foremost in her mind was the thought that the house must be cleaned up and everything put in perfect or- der. It must be " swept and garnished " was the idea so forcibly impressed on her mind. She felt sure much, very much, had to be done in order that all might " be ready." She thought the language indicated there was something each could do, and at least a little time should be granted; that the space between words denoted time in which to prepare. She also realized that this warning was for the whole world _, not for a special few. Having no par^ ticular preparation to make for herself, her affairs being al- ready in order, she went to work in earnest trying to assist others. She resumed the spirit, strength, and activity of her youth, and rushed first into a room occupied by some young ladies. Three times she loudly called the inmates by name, but they were in such commotion they gave no heed what- ever. They were all talking excitedly. At one mo'iaeiat they were clapping their hands as if in delight; at the next moment, wringing them as if in agony. In no way could she attract their attention in the least. 'No wonder. Tlieir * ' Watch —Be Ready ! " 227 clothes, and even their beds, were tumbled in heaps over the floor; "cyclone footprints" were on the dresser and man- tel ; dnst in mournful abundance had settled on everything. 'No wonder the girls were excited,, for that room must be " swept and garnished," and they must " watch — ^be ready." This loving old " grandma " was devoted to these heed- less girls, and wanted to help them make their room tidy; but as every effort to attract their attention was in vain and she knew there was no time to lose^, she left theon. and hastened to the boys' room. " 0, boys ! Your room, your room ! It mu^i be ' swept and garnished ! ' " she cried. " You must be ready ! " But — lo ! — the boys were gone, could no'where be found. Dear grandmother was shocked at the terrible confusion that here met her gaze, and was overwhelmed with anxiety; for she loved the boys much,, and would have freely given the remnant of her life to have had them " ready," She worked faithfully trying to get things better arranged. There was such a quantity of dirt and trash and useless " plunder " it would never do to tos» it in the yard; yet it must be removed from the room, for she was still haunted by " must be swept and garnished." Being pressed for time, she decided she must raise part of the floor and let som© of the rubbish fall through in order to make respectable space for the remainder. She grew still younger and stronger in her efforts, and worked with the life, spirit, and ease of a youth instead of a person cm the threshold of ninety. At last she was overcome. Her strength failed before the work was completed. Just as 228 Hearthstone) Echoes. she was giving down from exhaustion and excitement she clapped her tender hands so hard it aroused her from her ecxciting dream. For several weeks she would often tell this dream with deep emotion — not that she is superstitious^ believing erro- neously in signs and dreams, but because it appeared so very much like reality, bore such vivid semblance to actual life. Application : A beautiful banner is ever before us, bear- ing the pathetic warning: "Watch — Be Ready!" It is painted on every autumn leaf; the waving grass bespeaks its motto; it is suspended from every cloud and reflected from every billow. The diamond dewdrop bears this m;es- sage : " Like me, you will soon pass away ; theief ore ' watch^ — ^be ready ! ' " The ever-changing seasons remind us of this, and we see the same depicted on the faces of our loved ones departing. Do we carefully observe the inscrip- tion ? Do we heed its message ? " There's a great day coming by and by, when the saint and the sinner shall-be parted right and left " — a great day of assortment^ when the rubbish rnust^ be cleared away. Preparation should be made. But little is needed by some ; by others, much. " Watch — ^be ready ! " or there will be much confusion and anguish when the call is given — doubt- less much more than is expected. Many in that " great day " would gladly raise the " floor " and hide the rub- bish of their lives ; indeed, many will say to the rocks, hills, and mountains : " Pall on us and hide us from the great, Secret Fire;. 229 impartial Judge ! " Many would like to flee from him^ be absent wlien he comes, and thus escape judgment by not being present at roll call. Each of us should take warn- ing and keep his house " swept and garnished." This liv- ing, moving, breathing house^ — the temporal abode of the soul — should be freed from the rubbish of evil habits and wicked works and garnished with pure thoughts and right- eous living. We should ever " wateh — ^be ready." SECRET FIRE. One of our grates appeared somewhat greedy and took upon itself too large a supply of coal — more than it could care for ; so part of it rolled off on the floor. But was that all ? 'No; the coal had influenca It was alive and active, and at once began to make a, strong impress on the floor, which gently, but steadily, yielded to its power. Burning through the floor and the latliing just below, it was checked by the plastering. A few buckets of water were dashed on, and we thought the good work was done — the fire extin- guished; but, placing my ear to the floor, I heard a low, distant roaring. Like an undermining fiend, the sly flame, unable to affect the plastering, had changed its course and tried another plan — had used the floor, joists, and plas- tering as a flue; and, thus pent up^ it had made its way nine feet to the wall. Had not its sly mischief been dis- covered and arrested, within five minutes the residence of E. P. Meeks would have been in flamee. Stroke after 230 Hearthstonb Echoes. stroke, with great rapidity, the heavy ax was applied hy •wift and willing hands until the seiat of mischief was. dis- coyered and ike trouble overcomei. Thanks to the dear lit- tle telephone girl and to all the other willing helpers. We frequently act like that grate. We receive and try to appropriate to ourselves more of this world's bounties than we need or deserve, more than is really best for us. An overabundance is often worse than scarcity. The motto of fire and water seems to be : " Use me;, but do not abuse me." They are excellent servants, but tyrannical masters. This fire began in the upper story. Sin does not always first tempt the lowest principles of our character, but fre- quently attacks our highest and noblest characteristics and brings us down, down, down. When the tempter finds he cannot overco^me one point in our nature, he leaves that, like the fire left the plastering, and pursues some other course. Sin, like a smoldering fire, often attacks us when and where we are least expecting. Its ravages are steady, and sometimes rapid, until arrested by an antidote. It works on the sly. Often we think the mischief small and perhaps overcome; but the deceiver is creeping along slyly, and is steadily undermining our constitutions, dispositions, moral and spiritual characters. As the first bucket of water put out all apparent fire, so we may often easily cover all the apparent evil sin has wrought without putting a stop to its secret ravages. We must strike with the ax of truth until we reach the seat of mischief — the heart — and there apply the never-failing antidote. Secret Fire. 231 ^' Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth ! " As Dante says: " From a little spark may burst a mighty flame." A large flame came near being kindled from that small piece of coal. Only a little harsh word, but it pierces tender hearts like a poisoned arrow and burns like secret fire; only a loving word, but the kindly spark is kindled in the soul of a wayward youth, causing him to stop his downward course and turn his steps heavenward. Each individual has influence over some one, and frequently that influence is spreading when he is not aware. It may be a nettle seed which will yield a large crop of piercing thorns, or it may be the sweet honeysuckle to cheer the sick roo'm with its beauty and fragranca The dozen buckets of water thrown on the fire greatly damaged the plastering, paper, carpet, etc., in the room below. Rebuke for sin must sometimes be so severe as to greatly mortify the receiver and others. In our great anx- iety to save our house, much more water was used than was absolutely necessary, because we could not tell exactly where to pour it and how much. So in our intense zeal in trying to save a person's soul froim torturing flames we may use more persuasion and reasoning than necessary, for often it is hard to combine zeal and discretion in proper propor- tion. But as no one is offended at the overplus of water, so the sin-sick soul should never becoim© offended or dis- gusted at the healing balm, though sometimes administered in unpleasantly large quantities. Half of the floor in one room had to be torn up, removed. 232 He;arthstone Kchoks. and anotlier floor laid in its stead. In the room below, the stove, piano, and other heavy articles were hastily moved out of danger, and some little ornamental furnishin|^s were utterly ruined by the water. By spiritual investigation sometimes fully half of what is popularly regarded as sound doctrine — spiritual floor or foundation — is proved either to be spurious or to contain some hidden element of de- struction. In such eases it must either be torn up and re- placed by something that bears divine sanction or the de- structive element must be eradicated by the penetrating beams of Heaven's truth. Many times, also, we may be found in dangerous places, and should move or be moved in order to escape the impending doom, although, like re- moving the stove or the piano, it requires strength and presence of mind to do the work right At the same time we are compelled to sacrifice many of our preconceived ideas, opinions, and preferences (like those small, inferior decorations) in order to give our attention to weightier mat- ters. We continued our regnlar work, ignorant of the secret ruin going on in our own house, until almost too late. Often- times persons are very intent at their daily affairs, igno- rant or regardless of the secret ruin being wrought by sin in their own households among their own children and other loved ones. We did not know so well how to appreciate our home until we thought it was about to be immediately swept from us. Thus it is with every other blessing of life. After the fire seemed extinguished, the low, nicumful Secret Fire. 233 roaring and crackling indicated danger still. Often in life when all seems well witli us, if we will place our ear to the warning trumpet of God's truth, avb shall hear the plaintive peals telling us of lurking danger. In a few moments after our telephone message reached the college and town our house and yard vrere well filled — students, teachers, merchants, workmen ; young men, old men — all willing and anxious to lesod a helping haud. Wheu we see a soul in as imminent danger as was our house, do we show as great anxiety about it and try as haxd to rescue it from the threatening lake of flames ? A soiul is of far more value than many houseSj and we should man- ifest much more anxiety to save it. During our little fire excitement it never once entered my mind that our house and its furnishings were insured against fire ; and I thought if the house burned, all would be lost. For twenty-one years we had been carrying heavy in- surance, which appeared to be a needless expense, as we had never demanded a penny from the company during that time; but since they have so nobly come to our relief and willingly repaired the damage, we feel indeed grateful to them and thankful we had placed our home in their care. There is a great Insurance Company we would like to recommend to all — one that never " breaks " or fails to comply with its contracts. The firm consists of rather. Son, and Holy Spirit. The expenditure is small; the terms, reasonable; and the reward, not tworthirds of the value of property lost, but the entire amount multiplied 234 Hb;arthstone Echoejs. by infinity. We all have access to the great insurance Guide, and can easily ascertain and comprehend the terms and pay the fee. When Death touches the objects of our affec- tion : when with iron grasp he seizes even those we feel sure are prepared for the realms of bliss, we, for the time, seem to actually forget or lose sight of the insurance. The future then looks, dismal, the sable curtain has fallen and excluded the light^ and we feel like all is lost, until re^ minded of the great Insurance Company that will stand firm by those who never fail tO' keep their dues thoroughly paid up. Had we permitted our insurance to lapse, even the very day before the fire, the company would have beeai exempt from assisting us. Let us beware and not leave off our contract with the company in heaven, even one day, one hour, lest during that unguarded time Death should call and find us unprepared. We may carry heavy insur- ance on our homes a lifetime and never realize any benefit therefrom, but to every rational being there is certain to com© a time when he will need the' protection of heaven's reliable firm, without which all will be eternally lost Our houses are in constant danger of fire; our physical constitutions are in danger of being undermined by stealthy disease; our spiritual characters are in imminent danger of being demoralized by the crafty workmen of our' dread- ful adversary. Therefore, " What I say unto you I say unto allj Watch." Different tilings by which our house was saved from fire : 1. By the smoke pushing its way through unseen crevices Memoriai^. 235 in the weatherboarding, thus indicating imminent dan- ger. 2. By mother and daughter turning aside from regular work to shake some matting, thus discovering the smoka 3. Bj a thoughtful daughter's quick observation and atr tention. 4. By the telephone. 5. By the rapid steps and faithful, steady, earnest work of a stoutj willing, and anxious man. 6. By the ax. 7. By water. It was not by any one of these alone, but by the harmo- nious eooperation of all. Thus no certain characteristic alone is the embodiment of true manhood or womanhood, but the harmonious blending of many, such as patience, humility, determination, integTity, love, and obedieneei to divine precepts. Education, true and genuine, is not only a fair knowledge of either mathematics, language, or arts, but a happy union of these with practical attainments. Likewise, all of God's requirements must be observed in order to save the soul. MEMORIALS. (Read in Sunday school at the Georgie Robertson Christian College.) Memokial — that which perpetuates memory, that which preserves remembrance. Gently raising the misty curtain that hides, sixty cen- turies, we are permitted to witness the unveiling of many .-236 He;arthstone Echoes. remarkable monuments^ for memorial institutions are as old as time. Each day's work in creation was a memorial of God's unlimited power. He called forth light, and at his bid- ding the infant earth in triumph arose fro'm her cradle of obscurity, shook off her dark mantle^ and in her aerial char- iot began to ride through the heavens in her destined path, a sublime memento of his handiwork. The mysterious firmament, like a wondrous sea of glass arched above us; the dr\' land, the surging billows, each giant oak, each blade of grass, each star that " blinks " its eye in that unlimited space above, the sun that in grandeur rules the day, the moon that modestly veils her face in his presence, each silvery inhabitant of the deep, each denizen of the air, each creeping thing, each beast, each member of the human kind, is a commemorative work ever portraying the hand divine. Gliding down the centuries, we find man erecting monu- ments in memory of certain events. Jacob's altar at Bethel, the stone that pillowed his weary head as he fled from his enraged brother and on which he was sleeping when in dreamland he beheld the ladder reaching heaven; the altar of rude stones at Mizpah, constructed by Jacob and his father-in-law, Laban, as a token of reconciliation ; the great Jewish passover, in memory of protection from, the slaughtering angel; the twelve stones from Jordan's bed, constructed into an altar to preserve remembrance of the dry passage across the afterwards historic stream; Solo- men's temple, that marvel of architecture^ — all these, and Memoriai^s. 237 many more, are unveiled when wei peer through the pages of sacred lo're. Again, those marvelous Egyptian pyramids, still shelter- ing the dust of departed kings, bespeak the memory of more than forty centuries. Every gravestonei that lifts its head above the sleeping sod is a memorial. Think of the nu- merous memorial churches — the " Church of the ISTativity," at Bethlehem ; the " Garfield Memorial Church," at Wash- ington; and many, so many, others. Our beloved Am,eir- ica is esteemed in memory of Columbus ; our proud repub- lic, of Washington, Christianity, or the church of God, is a memorial of our risen and ascended Savior. The Lord's Supper is a monument, the unveiling of which brings fresh before our minds the fact that Jesus died for us. Tt is in the power of all tO' erect memorial stones, either to their credit or to their dishonor. Absalom raised for himself, in the king's dalci, a pillar, which he said was to perpetuate his memory — to keep his " name in remem- brance." After his untimely death, his body was cast '' into a great pit in the wood, and [they] laid a very great heap of stones upon him " to hide him from the idle gaze of passers-by and doubtless to keep his grief-stricken father from finding his mutilated remains. How striking the con- trast between these two memorial pillars ! The most en- during monument erected by Absalom was his wicked con- spiracy against his father. Who envies such reanembrancei ? The child on the seashore builds a high monument of sand. The tide rises and sweeps it away; it is gone. 238 H:RARTHSTON:e KCHOES. Again, he begins to' roll a ball of snow. Larger and larger, and still larger, it grows, until he must look up to see its top. The sun smiles on the beautiful plaything, which, in turn, reflects his brightness, like myriads of sparkling diamonds. He merrily kisses it a few times ; it feels Ids warm breath ; it is gone. Such is life. Much of our monument build- ing is without calculation, without " counting the cost." The tide sweeps it away. It cannot endure the warmth and light of investigation. Time melts it; it is no more. ISTot thus with the monument erected by the beloved Mary, of Bethany. It shall last forever. The Egyptian pyramids are said not to be so tall, by several feet, as they were centu- ries ago. The solid rock, in constant use, will wear away. Even the " rock of Gibraltar " has doubtless been somewhat worn by the lashing, dashing, and splashing of tlie briny waves for six thousand years. But the memorial of this woman, humbly anointing the Savior's feet in token of her loving trust, is gTowing stronger, higher, brighter ; and this day (April 9, 1899), at this very hour, doubtless thou- sands, if not millions, of children and adults are^ gazing at this glorious monument, concerning which her Eriend and Savior said^ " She hath done what she could ; " and, " This . . . shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." Every rational being can build a monument that will reflect credit even after the builder shall have ceased to live, the grandest and most enduring memorial being a life of usefulness. Behold this splendid college building in which we are to-day assembled and which we so highly Memorials. 239 prize ! It has recently been erected in memory of a young lady we held in high esteem — one we fondly loved ; a pure, lovable character ; a devout young Christian whose will was to do her Master's bidding. As I turn toward that, beiau- tiful face — that lovely picture hanging yonder on the wall — I think of the time I first met her, a charming little girl of eleven. Then my mind moves along year after year. I see her as she grandly develops into young womanhood, her life all the while manifesting a kind of sacredness un- usual for one of her years. Just as she reaches twenty- one, that beautiful life is gently removed from this land of " bitter-sweet." But is she dead ? Her body quietly sleeps in a sacred nook near that loved and hono-red home;; we feel sure her spiritual self is safe in our Father's love; but her influence still lives among us, and she, " being dead, yet speaketh " — speaks through this building ; speaks through this school, church, and community; speaks of the Savior's sacrifice^ the Father's love. Time speeds on. If nothing interferes, students will continue to go forth from this^ the Memorial Hall of the Georgie Robertson Christian College — many of them, to instruct the youth in science and arts ; many others, to pro- claim the gospel of truth, peace, and love. To this large assembly of students let me kindly suggest : When you are tempted to forsake the Lord or in any way bring reproach upon his great name, think of the sweeit-spirited young lady ■whose influence is here perpetuated; think of her fidelity to the cause; and think of this school, an echo of her 240 Hbarthstone Echoe^s. short, but grand, life. Be assured, that while living her ex- ample was well worthy of imitation, and doubtless in her death she accoimplished still more. " She hath done what she could," and, " being dead, jet speaketh." Long live this, the memorial of Miss Georgie Robertson ! A TRIBUTE OF LOVE. (To a newly- wedded pair.) Two streamlets issue from a mo^untain side^. Down the slopes thej gently wend their course in separate channels. By some means they at length begin to flow nearer together, then farther apart, still farther; again, nearer and nearer, until they unite and flow as one. In the central plains of our fair country two lives start forth near the same time and run in separate channels, like two brooklets, independent of and strangers to each other, now coming nearer, now in sight (in the same student band), then sweirving and going asunder, again drawing nearer, still nearer, until they are united in purpose, in heart, in love, in name, to gently wend their way — the twain made one — until they reach the mystic river. These two young lives are embodied in the forms of two of my friends, and to them I in love offer this unpretentious tribute. Two lives combined^ two hearts made one. In every instance this is a striking event, at the same time touched with sadness. Since you have each selected the other as the one with whom you desire tO' spend your remaining days. A Tribute; of L,ove. 241 see that each works to the interest of the other. Marriage is either a blessing or a curse, a step upward or do'wnward. As to which it proves to he with you, much depends upon your future course. Marriage has been quaintly called " a world-without-end bargain ; " and, in the language of Long- fellow, "As unto tlie bow the cord is, so unto man is woman. Thougli she draws him, she obeys him; Though she leads him, yet she follows — Useless each without the other." It has alsO' been said : " Of earthly goods, the best is a good wife; A bad, the bitterest curse of human life." We trust this young wife will, as suggested by Byron, " Be the bright rainbow to the storms of life. Or the evening beam that smiles the clouds away And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray." Regarding man as the head, we hope this " head " will always be properly balanced, with ears ever ready to hear and heed the calls of duty, with eyes looking toward that which is honorable and right, and with ton^e ever ready to speak words of cheer to the disconsolate and praises to the Giver of all good. Considering woman the neck that turns the head and holds it in place, let this " neck " see that she never tries to hold the " head " in the wrong place or turn him astray. It is best that there be harmony in your ages — ^not one looking forward froau the standpoint of youth, the other 242 Hkarthstone Echoks. looking backward upon his threescore and ten. You have this harmony, the man being one year the senior. There should always he harmony in religious views — " not un- equally yoked together." Solomon's wives woirshiped idols, and dragged him down. You have sweet harmony in reli- gious sentiment, each of you in early youth having accepted the Book of Truth as your only spiritual guide, Christ as your great Leader, and his name (and that only) as the one to distin^ish you from the world. This feature you will appreciate more and more as the years go by. It does my heart good tO' know you both are daily and unbiased readers of the word of God. When the earthi can bud and blossom without the sun, tlien, and not till then, can the world prosper without the Bible. In order to be congenial companions, there should also be harmony in your disposi- tions, your aspirations, your affections. This beautiful harmony can, to a very great extent, be cultivated. If one of you has peculiar notions or habits repulsive to the other and which profits you nothing, true love will prompt you to sacrifice those notionsi or Kabits for each other's sake. Congeniality is a creature of education, and one of its best teachers is compromise, ^ever sacrifice principle, however, for the sake of compromise, or disregard your properly- trained convictions; but avoid everything that tends to harshness, and do not cling to a fruitless opinion just for the sake of maintaining your position. There are so many un- happy marriages. Such lives run in separate channels — sometimes near each other, then swerving and flowing asun- A Tribute; of I,ove. 243 der, parted by strong barriers. This is frequently caused by not observing the little courtesies that polish life and make it happy. JSTever disregard these little things. Home is the place to practice them. Honor each other with esteem, confidence, praise, and po- liteness. Doi not be afraid to express your approbation. Your eulogies may rust out^ but will never wear out by use. Let each txy to always avoid doing anything that will cast a shadow across the other's path. Many do this by unkind insinuations and thoughtless remarks. There is also much — O, so much ! — in the tone. Even kind words uttered in a cold or gruff tone fall like razors upon the tender heart of love, especially from the lips that so often have promised sweetness, for "to be wroth with one we love doth work like madness in the brain." Never permit yourselves to be eccentric, or peculiar, in the general sense of the term, nor to put on an air of indifference, as if you cared for no one except your own two selves. Do not be grum, but take pains to speak kindly to each other, even when greatly against your inclinations. As the balmy atmosphere con- verts the clouds into laughing dewdrops to revive the wilted flower, so kind words dissolve the rough impulses of even a stony heart and raise or reanimate the downcast spirit. Loving-kindness persisted in will almost melt the ice-cold heart into penitent tears. " Love is the lock that linketh noble minds ; faith is the key that shuts the spring of love." If you love each other tenderly, truly, your very frowns are fairer to each other 244 ' He;arthstone) Echoe;s. than the smiles of others. Then how quickly would each heart of love be darkened by the other's shadow! Yon could endure a harsh word from any one els© better than from your other self. It would be too much like a dagger- hurled from your own hand intO' your own bosom. On the other hand, as Pop© says, "At eyery trifling scorn to take offense — ■ That always shows great pride or little sense." Do not expect life to be all sunshine, but make as much shine as possible, and carry it with you, in your lives and on your countenances. It will do you good and will inspire others. Cultivate a cheery, sweet, lovable disposi- tion ; for " melancholy takes away the appetite, the pleas- ure, and the gulden sleep," while " cheerfulness sweetens toil," Form the habit of being cheerful, and when trou- bles come, you can endure them better ; for " Sunshine broken in the rill, Though turned astray, is sunshine still." To the inevitable yield as cheerfully and submissively as possible. The strong, stiff oak that will not bend to the storm may be torn up by the roots ; while the willow, yield- ing for a little while, recovers its position and stands erect. View life from the very brightest standpoint. If you are unavoidably in humble circumstances, be consoled by the thought that " the scarcity of a thing enhances its value ; " if in affluence, remember the poor. Whether in the smile of fortune or the midnight of gloom, be assured that " god- A Tribute; of I pared with what the people of our country are doing every year. By law we have chartered the erection of a temple to Bacchus, in the mortar of which is yearly mixed the blood of from sixty thousand to one hundred thousand of our citizens. " Upon this never-ceasing slaughter meet of us are looking with indifference, while many behold it with applausa The nation is unmoved by the shrieks of broken- hearted women, and complacently hears the wails of orphan children. In vain do mothers kneel at tbe shrine of their country and extend tlieir hands and turn their tearful eyes to tbe genius of our government, imploring protection against this devouring god who demands the blood of their sons. How long, blessed Lord, must this yearly sacrifice be made to the god of rum ? " (J. B. Briney.) Our merchants set apart days tliey call " openings." On these days they make the very best possible display of their 258 Hearthstone; EcHo:es. goods, and kindly invite everybody to oome and see. They are pleased with their selections^ and are aiLxioiis for the public to examine them. I would suggest a rumselleor's " opening " day. As in the other instance, written invita- tions should be sent to the prominent citizens — those you expect to furnish your trade; ask themi tO' come and exam- ine your goods and thei work you are; doing; then present all your dram drinkers and drunkards in the strongest pos- sible way — in your show windows, in front of your doors, on the streets ; let your counters and show cases be reserved for those unable to sit or stand: have a "first-class phono- graph to catch and preserve the utterances of your best sam- ples; distribute specimens of your best tobacco and best drink among the most cultured of your visitors; make the moet striking display possible. This " opening " will sug- gest to you the idea of a grand rally of all the forces along your line — a regular Makers,' Dealers' and Consumers' Association — which should be held without fail in the very near future. I would suggest the next "July 4 " as an appropriate time for it to begin. It would do great good, and should not be postponed. 'No special preparations, will be required; your work is always in shape for each9>ition. Select one of the most prominent cities of our republic, and yoa can have a wonderful show, far surpassing that of Chi- cago, Buffalo, or Paris. Let every whisky maker and dealer of every type be there, including every " wild-cat " and " blind-tiger " man of our nation; let their cargoes of intoK- icants be arranged in pyramids reaching far toward the Crush that Serpent's Head. 259 skies; send out illustrated catalogues, skowing ihe magni- tude of this business, the estent of its influencei, and the result of its work; let the frontispiece be a painting — a home, once a miniature paradise, now a haunt of wretched- ness. (For several of the following suggestions I am in- debted to a newspaper clipping.) Paint a young and beau- tiful bride at the hymeneal altar, then the. wan, wasted woman, hugging to her heart a! babe frightened at the ap- proach of what was once a man; " paint an empty larder, a scanty wardrobe, a fireless hearth; paint, if you can, the misery of that abused wife, trembling as she hears the un- steady steps of her approaching husband; open the door; see the affrighted woman crouching in the corner and ward- ing off the drunken blows that otherwise would fall on her child; at length paint Death holding his awful court, the wife and child weltering in. blood, and the besotted assassin swinging from the gallows of outraged justiceu" Through- out the catalogue give lifelike illustrations of the various work dene by drink; then state that these pictures, en- larged and painted true to life by famous artists, will be seen in the various buildings on the exposition grounds ; not only this, but that the many scenes represented by the paint- ings will be enacted in reality there^ tO' better display the work of our nation. Do not forget to advertise the Rum- sellers' Contest, in which much pains will be taken to " show off " the most striking specimens of work. As some one has kindly suggested, let premiums be offered for the best young drinhers and for the best aged drinkers; let 26o He;arthstone Echoe;s. the mothers, sisters, and sweethearts of the boys be present ; also the haggard wives and broken-hearted daughters of old topers (they will take a mournful interest in the contest) ; let the judges be barkeepers who have enticed the men and bovs to drink; to give variety, let other nations, have some of their best representatives in the contest (yoii need not fear their rivalry). Congregate as much of the world as you can ; then let the contest begin in earnest. When you have decided upon the successful candidate for dram-drvrik- ing honors, pin on his arm a long blue ribbon, dyed in the anguish and melancholy of women's hearts. Go then and congratulate the weeping mother and the pale, soirro'wf ul sis- ter and sweetheart, in whose hearts hope has died; then let this champion, with blue ribbon flying, go reeling round the ring for the cheers of the bloated spectators, while the hand plays " Eill Up the Wine Cup." 'E&sX, present the successful toper candidate. " Eill him with whisky until his eyes glare with lightning, with which he shocks his home and its shrinking hearts; until his fist is clinched and sta-ikes those he should protect, until his mouth pours forth curses as a storm cloud does the thunder- claps, until every feature is aglow with the advertisements of the torment that burns in his breast. When your accom- plished beast is thus at the height of his deba.uch,, with blue streamer flying and the premium bottle of whisky under his arm, let him stagger around the arena," fall, rise, then fall again, to the delight of the crowd, while the band plays and the glad spectators join in the chorus: Crush that Serpent's Head. 261 "Shout! tlie victory, the victory, the victory!" The premium given the successful young drinker is a large bottle of tears. Ah, there is some si^ificance in ex- hibiting tears in a bottle ! He holds this bottle high in his hand ; goes around the ring again, shouting, " Three cheers for King Alcohol ! Three cheers for a woman's tears ! " while over yonder on a low platform stands the shriveled form of a little woman, prematurely gray ; and with trem- bling, but sweet, plaintive voice, she softly sings "A Boy's Best Friend is His Mother " and " O, Where is My Boy To-night ? " This is immediately followed by a little girl, who touchingly sings " Father's a Drunkard and Mother is Dead " and " O, Father, Dear Father, Come Home ! " Some one has further suggested tiiat all the whisky on exhibition be gratuitously distributed for the enlivening of the crowd. Do not forget to exhibit a few of the " lean, cold beds on which the wives of drunkards lie nightly and weep ; " also a number of shoeless feet, and a basket of the stale crusts on which hungry children subsist. At last open a separate inclosure and let there be seen a pile of bones al- most mountain high — ^bones of all whose death has been caused by dissipation. Their teeth and skulls will be piled on the tables of the fair. Call around these stands the wives and children and other relatives of the murdered and murdering drunkards. Let these relatives present ©very whisky maker and whisky seller with a souvenir watch charm — a simple tooth from these immense piles of cher- ished relics ; and let these men continue tO' wear them near 262 He;arthston£; Echoes. their hearts, and finally give thein space in their coiffins; also let each of these men select a shull and carry it home to his wife as a memento from the " Whisky Fair." When the eye grows weary looking at the teeth, the skulls, and the mountain of bones, turn a litde and let it see that crimson pool. It is the blood of the annual " sixty or one hundred thousand." ]^ow see that every whisky dealer of every de- scription dips his pen into that pool of blood, and, in the presence of the vast assembly, signs this pledge : "I will continue to do all in my power to add to this pile of bones and crimson pool." Just before the president of the asso- ciation (who is a dram-drinking preacher) dismisses^ the throng wdth a short, eloquent prayer, thanking God for the wonderful prosperity of the great liquor traffic and pray- ing that its powers may still be extended, let him be pre- sented with a large, handsome painting — a simple reward for his faithful services during this great rally, as well as for his lifelong example which has done so much to encour- age drink. That this painting may give a faint idea, of the work done in the businesSj here are a few suggestions you may hand to the skilled artist who is to paint it; " Paint health in ruins, hope destroyed, affections crushed, prayea*3 silenced; paint the chosen seats, of paternal care, of filial pity, of brotherly love, of maternal devotion — all, all va- cant ; paint all the crimes of every stature and of every hue, from murder standing aghast over a grave which it has no means to cover down to the dark valley of death peopled with living slaves ; paint home a desert and shame a tyrant ; A Broken Chain. 263 paint a landscape with trees whose fruit is poison and whose shade is death, with mountain torrents tributaxy to an ocean whoso very waves are firej put in the most distant back- ground the vanishing vision of a blessed past, and into the foree:round put the terrible certainty of an accursed fu- ture ; people the scene with men whose shattered forms are tenanted by to^rmented souls, with children upon whose lips no smile can ever play, and with women into whose cheeks furrows have been burned by tears wrung by anguish from breaking hearts. Paint such a picture; and when you are ready to show it, do' not let in the rays of the heavenly sun, but illuminate it with the glares of the inf erual fires, and still your horrible picture falls short of tlie truth." A BROKEN CHAIR EvEKY "heart knoweth its own bitterness." Almost every love chain has its missing links ; the household has its vacant chairs ; each heart has its empty corners. Many a trunk, bureau drawer, and closet contains relics treasured as almost sacred because they were once handled by fingers now grown cold. Go tO' a home of love and ask to see keep- sakes from dear ones departed, and some one will show you a pair of tiny slippers and unfold some dainty little dresses which " baby " used to wear. Here are some of its play- things; there is its picture, life-size, on an easel. Ask where is that baby dear, and the tender mother, too full to speak, raises her tear-dimmed eyes toward heaveoi. 264 Hearthston:^ Echoeis. Go to anotber home. Theire you will find a lonely, a de- serted room, once made bright by a cheerful, sunny-faced youth who delighted in calling that Jiis room. There you will find many relics of his boyhood — ^keepsakes from friends dearly loved. There are his clothes, his hats, his slippers, his books — all these, and many moirei, reminders that the room was once occupied by a boy just reaching manhood. Where is that boy ? Another family chain has been broken, and he is the missing link. Visit another home, and a dutiful daughter, with aching heart, will go to an old-fashioned walnut or cedar chest, take therefrom beautiful quilts pieced according to tedious patterns and counterpanes knit and turfed in antique de- signs, showing great skill and jjatienca " This," says the daughter, " is the handiwork of the oine I was always proud to call ' my mo'ther.' Her precious fingers became tired, her eyes grew dim, she went to sleep, we laid her to rest in the old churchyard yonder." At this moment the father enters, with an old-fashioned daguerreotype, portraying her beautiful features when young, then points to a portrait on the wall, the same sweet face — ^this time displaying the furrowed cheek and wrinkled brow of threescore years and ten. " This first," says the dear old man, with quivering lip and trembling voice, " is the darling of my youth, while this last is the companion and solace of my old age. For more than half a century our hearts beat as one, our pur- poses were one ; but now my love chain is broken, and she is one of the missins: links." A Brokijn Chain. 265 Inquire at another home — no ; you need not inquirei, only look. Weeping children are gathered around a heart- broken mother, who is bending' low over the sinking form, of him she loves better than her own life. This bespeaks its own story; it tells who here is soon tO' be the severed link. What causes these vacancies ? Death. We shun his ap- proach in our households and ward him off as lon^' as pos- sible. Physicians kindly aid us in battling against the in- truder; but many times all human efforts fail, and, to our sorrow, the " king of terro'rs " is. victorious. He carries away objects of our love, leaving our hearts torn and bleed- ing. In one household he makes choice of the prattling babe, and unkindly takes it from its mother's tender em- brace ; in another he selects young manhood's opening bud ; froan the next he takes blooming young womanhood, tlie sunlight of home, the mother's companion. ]!^ext, he creeps stealthily under the roof where for half a century husband and wife have lived and loved ; he looks at the aged couple^ — first at one, then at the other, as if undecided which to take ; and, almost before we are aware of his decision, one has been taken, the other is left to mourn. Sometimes he selects the ripened sheaf which is heavy laden with golden fruit, only awaiting the harvester. Strange monster this. Sometimes he wrestles lo'Ug and hard with the physical frame before it yields tO' his over- powering strengtli; sometimes he seems to softly place his finger on the heartstrings and bid them cease to beat. In 266 Hearthstone Echoes. either case he is victorious, and, sooner or later, carries off the prize, leaving some one to grieve. Thanks to that higher Power that conquers even death and deprives it of its venom sting ! The same Power will transform and reunite all the worthy links and in heaven there will be nO' broken chain. AN UPWARD GLANCE. As the exquisite painting on the overhead ceiling in the " great Orient " is viewed by looking into an immense mir- ror on the floor to rest the eyes from long looking upward, so we may look downward and around us at Dame ISTature's laughing beauties and see divine power and love. We look on the placid bosom of a crystal lake and see trees, clouds, sun, moon, and stars duplicated in the water; we behold their portraits in the deep. We often see heavenly splendor by reflection ; for, as Young says, " I^ature is a glass, re- flecting God." But these are mere shadows. By looking downward we can never see the real objects they represent; they are above tbs. We cannot reach them, but we may en- joy their light and beauty more by looking upward. There are times in life when it seems tO' us that " every- thing goes wrO'Ug." The little shadows across our paths blend into one broad, dense one, and our way seems — O, so dreary ! Have we ever thought of it — that this is because we confine our vision too near ourselves f These feelings often haunt uSi even when wei are doing well and are sur- ' rounded by the very individuals we most fondly love:. We An Upward Gi^anci;. 267 often cO'inplain of our environments when we could scarcely give one reason why. How much, wiser and nobler' tO' re-- move the film from our own eyes, then look up higher ! In the beautiful sky of blue no stain or cloud appears ; all the clouds we see are confined to the atmosphere surroimding us. When everytliing goes right and life seems bright, we can walk in the light and cheerfully obey the Lord. When only clouds are in sight and sorrows deepen with the night, if we will look above for the light and still gladly, though tearfully, obey, we will feel an inward happiness even amid adversity. When sad days are ours; when gloom and despondency, as sable curtains, drape our hearts, two maidens, as it were, will stand beside us, each holding a cup and enticing us to drink. The first, with sighs and moans and tears and trem- bling hand, presents her cup and beseeches: "Drink, and be mine ! " The other, with steady hand, radiant face, eyes sparkling as the gems of heaven, and with voice so low and sweet, says : " Drink, and be glad ! " The first maiden is Despair, with her goblet of rue; the second maiden, Hope, with her cup of joy. Which cup shall we quaff? We should remem.ber Despair always brings the shade; brave- hearted Hope, the shine. "As in sparkling majesty a star Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud, Brightening the half-veiled face of heaven afar. So when dark thoughts our brooding spirits shroud, Sweet Hope celestial influence o'er us sheds. Waving her silver pinions round our heads." 268 He;arthstone Echoe;s. The tall mountain SAvells from the vale and lifts its ma- jestic head towaxd the heavens, nnconscions of the storm fast sweeping around its base. While the rolling clouds are flit- ting across its breast amid thunder's roar and lightning's playful flashes, and while the rain falls in torrents about its foot, golden sunshine settles on its uplifted head. By obedient faith we can elevate our souls above the storms of time to the land of eternal sunshine. Blessed thought! "No clouds up yonder ; no tears in heaven ! Through a small telescope I once counted the many little crystal squares in a window three miles distant. At an- other time I watched the steady movements of an approach- ing steamer softly gliding over the sky-tdnted wavelets, every part showing as distinctly as if but a few pacesi distant, though scores of miles intervened. Through Lord Ross' " Improved " the moving, rolling spheres seem brought al- most within arm's reach; yet there is another Teleecoipe, compared with which Lord Boss' and Yerke's may hide their faces with crimson blushes. It not only enraptures us with a more wonderful display of the sparkling, " be- witching " eyes of heaven, but intO' it we can look and form an idea of the great city, the New Jerusalem, and can learn the characteristics of our grand and glorious King. Through this marvelous telescope of faith we gaze into the glorious beyond as it will appear after time shall have finished its course. It opens to us the pearly portals, and we see the King of glory. It gives us a view of the jasper ' walls, the golden streets, the tree of life. We keep look- What Jimmie; Gave. 269 ing and admiring. New beauties constantly come into view. There is that crystal fountain, the river of life, gently flowing from near the throne of God, its ripples dan- cing in beauty as if fanned by seraphs' wings; there, the angelic host, the heavenly choir, the redeemed of all ages, the exalted Redeemer, the throne of glory, the Father of love. There is where we should lay up our treasure; for " where the treasure is, there will the heart be also." God is the Giver of all our hopes, our blessings, our prom- ises ;• but — see ! — he is above them. Let us look to him, go to him. WHAT JIMMIE GAVE. The appreciative child who occasionally gives his teacher even a little flower, accompanied by a smile of affection, is unconsciously planting the seed of a beautiful " forget- me-not " that will long continue to bud and blossom in the teacher's bosom. A little boy — a pupil of mine for five consecutive years — ^formed the habit of bringing me some- thing (to the schoolroom) almost every day. He was an unusually bright child, made rapid progress in school, but was so full of mischief that I often had to resort tO' some kind of rigid discipline. This, however, seemed only to increase his love for me; and the next morning he would, as usual, bring some little token of remembrance — an apple, peach, shell, or flower ; more frequently the latter. I was almost sure of the first violet, pansy, crocus, jonquil, hya- 270 Hb^arthstone Echoes. cinth, and rose that bloomed in his mother's flower garden. One bleak, wintry morning, when no fruit or flower could be found, he placed in my hand a beautiful pebble. With my pencil I immediately wrote on it his name, "Jimmie." Years have passed. Little smiling-faced, rosy-cheeked, auburn-haired, brown-eyed Jimmie became a man, then a Christian, married, went West, was seized by consumption, came home (he said, to die among his friends), and in the family burial ground his body was placed near his father, mother, brothers, and sisters, who, one by one, had recently fallen victims of the same uncompromising foe. Thus James P. Thompson, of Mars' Hill, near Florence, Ala., has long since gone to his flnal reward, and his photograph and the little pebble bearing his name are the only memen- tos I have from his hand; but in my memory still fondly lingers each feature of that bright and dear little face, as well as the many small tokens of a loving remembrance — - that many " forget-me-nots " carefully placed on the tablet of my heart. Quiet influence is often the strongest and most durable. ARE YOU A SLAVE? If so, what is your master's name ? " His name is ' Habit,' " you reply. Habit ? Well, yes. Then proba- blj' I am well acquainted with him. He belongs to a very large family, many of whose members it will do to watch. Some of them are trustworthy, such as Work Habit, Tidy Arb You a Slavs? 271 Habit, Tnith Habit, Patience Habit, Prudenc© Habit, and a few others. Love Habit is. a large-hearted, whole-souled " creature," but is somewhat fickle; while, many of the fam- ily are dangerous in the extreme, among whom I shall merely mention Slang Habit, Swear Habit, Falsehood Habit, Drink Habit, and Steal Habit. There are alsoi trip- lets in this branch of the Habit family, called by the pet names " Dip.," " Chew," and " Smoke." like a family T once knew who had "Ann " attached to every name — " Mary Ann," " Lucinda Ann," etc. — so these triplets have O'ue cer- tain name in common : " Dip Spit," " Chew Spit," and " Smoke Spit." All the Habits show untiring devotion to those who will familiarize themselves with, and encourage them — will " stick closer than a brother; " and a passion- ate fondness is usually reoiprocated. Strange indeed to say, man manifests this devout attachment to Habit, whether the same proves to be his very best friend or his very bitterest foe. If there is any difference, he is partial to the latter. These triplets and the last five previously men- tioned, as well as many of the others, are dangerous asso- ciates, despotic in their natures, and become tyrannical masters. It is not compulsory on us to go into this bondage, however ; neither do we usually do so deliberately or willfully. We glide into it by degrees, by association, by yielding. Each habit is, in its infancy, like a spider's web — frail, fragile, easily broken; but it develops rapidly. " If neglected, it soon becomes a thread or twine ; next, a cord or rope ; finally, a cable. Then who can break it ? " 272 He;arthstone; Echoes. If we have much dealing with these evil parties, they are almost sure, before we are aware of it, to have the " noose '* around our necks, then to have us in chains and shackles ; and terrible is their despotism. It would be casting a sad reflection on your intelligence for me to presume tO' portray to you the evils of the various tobacco habits. You know them as well as I do, perhaps better. Some of you know from experience, for you are slaves thereto. Why ? Because you would not master the habit in its infancy, when it was a mere spidetr's web ; and now it has grown into an immense cable, and you cannot break it (you think you cannot). It is your despotic mas- ter; you are its obedient slave. You have voluntarily sur- rendered to this bewitching master; now he keeps you in his service, yet makes you pay all the expenses. Friend, what do you think of yourself ? Do not tell me you place a higher estimate on yourself in consequence thereof, or that any one else values you more highly. Can you boast of your independence — of your liberty — ^while yielding sub- missively to one of nature's roughest, most uncouth weeds — a weed which neither the horse, the cow, the cat, the dog, nor even the filthy hog will condescend to taste ? They say sheep will nibble at it occasionally. It is ravenously devoured by one class of worms {very green ones), and man stands next. There are tw^o animals in the class — the large, fat, green worm and man; and man stands next to head. He is doubtless justly entitled to the " head- Are; You a Si^ave;? 273 mark," for he consumes it in many forms the worm would not deign to touch. You will not now plead the long-since-exploded theory as to its medicinal effect — as a cure for dyspeptics, a pre- server of teeth, etc. But you say your constitution needs a stimulant, Ko doubt of it. You have kept it stimulated until it requires it. I once heard a clever man say he en- tirely lost control of his temper when without tobacco two hours; that he became nervous, irritable, restless, discon- tented ; wanted to kill every hog and cow that cam© within his reach ; had no patience with even his wife and children. A certain preacher said if he should come into our neigh- borhood without tobacco he would be so " cross and ilL natured " he would not be fit to appear among us, much less preach for us. What a pity intelligent physicians ever recommend tbe use of whisky or tobacco to their patients ! Almost every one thus becomes a slave. Wonder if in any of these instances the " doctor " likes the glass and weed tolerably well himself. (Misery enjoys company.) One preacher was really advised by a '"' medicine man " to smoke a cigar after each sermon as a stimulant for his weak throat (instead of advising him to take a small piece of ginger or a cubeb, which would not enslave him) ; and I have heard of two preachers who actually did smoke before leaving the house of the Lord, while the congregation was singing, yet would preach : " Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us." How thankful that we are not commanded to offer tobacco incense.! The old tobacco 274 Hearthstone Echoes. ^' toper " would greatly prefer that we should not mention the subject in his presence, yet his candid advice is for the young to forever refrain from its use. So'me say they would rather live on " half rations," with plenty of the " comfort- ing weed," than to have every other luxury without it; yet they will say this is a loathsome habit and advise others not to form it. Most persons who use tobacco regret it bitterly some time in life, though they do not always acknowledge this. You say it is so much company to you. What a re- flection on us, your friends ! Why not save your tobacco until we are out of your sight, when you will need " com- pany ? " Instead of this you often use it while we are with you and trying to be as good " company " as possible. You will not deny that this practice is not only unneces- sary, useless, ugly, filthy, expensive, dangerous, and un- healthful, but is to a certain extent also demoralizing, inas- much as it often throws its victims intO' immoral company — gives them immoral and intemperate associates. True, we find many nice, intelligent persons who use tobacco; but listen ! It is difficult to find many low characters who do not. Select the lazy men in your community. Most of them use it. Point out the profane, the stingy, the un- truthful ; the backbiters, the extortioners, the drunkards, and the gamblers, and see how many of them are freei from its use. The tramp begging clothes and food often has tobacco in his pocket at the time. So with the loafer on the street ; in fact, the loafer's employment (?) greatly encourages him in forming tobacco habits and others of a kindred na- Are; You a Si.avk? 275 ture, like tJie pale, yellow, sallow, swarthy-looking boy who boastfully said, " I can smoke and chaw, too," leaving us to infer that he was no ordinary boy ; and he was not ordi- nary. Have you ever noticed how many idiots or semi- idiots use and will beg and plead for " 'baccer ? " How- ever, this vice seems to be " no respecter of persons." Many of the high, the low, tiie rich, the poor, the learned, the illiterate of all colors, are alike its bondmen, and are in this respect brought tO' a common level. Again, many to- bacco consumers never use intoxicants {other intoxicants) ; but most inebriates also use this fascinating ( ? ), nerve- shaking weed — the plague narcotic; and decidedly the ma- jority of persons who drink will also swear. So it is very evident that tobacco is frequently throwm among rude asso- ciates. The weed in every salable form is kept in the sa- loon. Why ? For a twofold reason : First, that those who drink may also buy their tobacco there ; secondly, often the unsuspecting man or youth steps into the saloon to buy noth- ing but tobacco, which is there advertised as " cheapest and best," and while there is enticed to drink. There seems to be a strong affinity between the two practices. Tobacco is said to create an unnatural thirst, and to satiate this thirst it& victim often takes to drink. It has been predicted that the time is near when tobacco' fiends will have to take " back seats," as is now being ful- filled in such things as the second-rate coach — the " smoking car " — in which a really genteel-looking man appears out of place. (Look between some of the seats in the " first- 276 Hearthstonk Echoes. class " coach, and you will think there ought also, to be at- tached a " chewing car " or a general " spitting car.")' 'Nor is the " smoking car " the only place the victims of the pipe are thrown in unpolished society. I have seen men and women smoking in pipes used by those whose lips they would consider far from being suitable to touch their own. I have known one woman to ask another for a piece of her tooth " mop," which was already stained its full length, from a mouth whose teeth were — had enough. (No dan- ger of my becoming offensively personal, but it is you I allude to.) If she will stand before the mirror and watch each movement as she rubs that wet " mop " around in the box or bottle, then mops her mouth with it, at the same time wondering in whose diseased mouths part of that selfsame delicious (?) snuff has already been ; if the cigar smoker will visit the cigar factories and see (as I did) the Italians, Cubans, and even those of darker complexion, moisten their fingers and the outer leaves of the cigar with saliva when the glue was too " sticky," surely disgust would overcome relish. You say that is too bad to write about. It is not half as bad for it to be on the point of my pen as in your mouths. I am no harder than truth, and you know it. Then cleanse your mouths, you snuff dippers, and purify your breath, you chewers and smokers. I have twice seen a girl who, in infancy, was permitted to play with her moth- er's snuff-covered toothbrush. Result: A slave for life — a had one. On the other hand, I once knew a good lady who, at the age of seventy-two, voluntarily gave up a long Are; You a Si^avb;? 277 practice of snuff dipping. Ske lived several years after this, but never said : "1 couldn't stay quit." friends, if you will not give up tlie practice, will you not help open the eyes of the young? It is already a parti ally-est,ablished law that no smoker is received in certain firstrclass positions. Especially is tliis true relative to cigarette smokers. Every one of them is more or less injured by the practice, and he knows it ; but it is his master. Many such a boy, otherwise unusually bright, becomes dull, cannot learn fast, cannot remember; hence he drops out of school, grows up to be a stupid kind of man, still " dull," with poor memory, nerves affected, unsteady hand covered with nicotine blotches ; and probably he at last becomes a victim of nicotine cancer. Others are dwarfed in stature. (By the way, some one has said : " The only use we find for a dude is as a cigarette holder.") Of course, nervousness, poor memory, etc., are often the results of ailments we know not how to avoid ; but when eaused by our own recklessness, we certainly deserve censure. Again, many tobacco users are intelligent and prosperous ; but can their success be attributed tO' this prac- tice ? Suppose a check for ten thousand dollars should be of- fered you by a party you know to be entirely reliable, it to be yows if you completely give up tobacco, but tO' be ret- f unded if you relapse into the habit ; would yo'U get the ben- efit of the ten thousand dollars ? What do you say about it, boy, you who have not yet grown old in the se^rvice of your master weed ? If the love of money will induce you to 278 HE;AR'rHSTON:]5 Echoe;s. do right, will not also tlie love of cleanliness and freedoon from low bondage? Sueh liberty is a great accomplish- ment, acknowledged such by even the young ladies who tell you they do not object tO' your smoking. Let me whisper a little secret in your ear (but do not tell the girls; they would be angTy mth me) : I have seen them make all sorts of ugly faces when they would return tO' the parlor where they had entertained yofu — ^the parlor, with its mingled fragrance of cigar or cigarette fumes and heliotrope or rose water, though you never smoked there. They say of another friend : " He is such a nice young man ; has no bad habitsi ; does not drink, swear, or use tobacco in any fo'rm." Many tobacco consumers become exceedingly sensitive — doubtless rendered more so by the woeful effect on the nerv- ous system. They want us to handle this subject with " velvet gloves," if at all. Some of them seem astomshed at any one's objeeting to their spitting on the hearth or floor or near the churn or on the church floor, though they know such rudeness is a gloomy reflection on their mothers — on the early training. Some become offended if even gently reminded of the cost, though they murmur " hard times," say they cannot pay their debts, and stint their families and themselves in the necessary comforts of life. Listen ! Shall I say it ? The majority of the very poorest people use this weed in some form. I know some men who do not possess a good hat or a respectable pair of shoes, neither money to buy the same, yet who both chew and smoke ; and their wives dip, efven if they have to borrow money to buy the deli- Ars You a Si.ave? 279 cacy ( ? ). Supipose the ten-thousand-doUar clieck should be rattled before their eyes, woiild they accept, it ? But you say the espeoise does no't amount to much, and " it all goes in a lifetime, anyway." Man, get you a toy bank; drop therein a nickel or a dime or a quarter every time you spend one for tobacco — exactly the same amount; the last day of the year present the little bank to your wife; let her count its contents and use the same to pay your church debt or for some other laudable purpose; multiply this amount by ten, twenty, or forty — the number of years you have thus spent money — and see if the man exaggerated when he said he had burned a fine " house and lot," " kin- dled in the end of a cigar." " Eut," says one, " I cultivate my smokin' tobacker." Yes, you spend a good deal of time cultivating and '' worming " your " smokin' tobacker," and leave the cabbage for your wife toi " wo'rm ; " but you at last buy your " chawin' tobacker," and she sells her cabbage and buys her snuff. '' I make my money by honest toil, and it's nobody's busi- ness how I spend it," you say (temper rising). Look out! There comes the " brother'' s-keeper " theory. I thought the Lord buried that theory sixty centuries ago. It has either all decayed and vanished or else it is petrified. In either case you ought to be ashamed to resort to it. You doubtless have it in its petrified condition as handed down the ages. However, it is somebody's business. We; live in thei same community; and it is our duty, as citizens, tO' revolutionize and improve society as much as possible, to try to suppres,^ 28o Hkarthstonk Echoes. every unnecessary expense and unprofitable habit. It is just as reasonable for you tO' argue tliat it is none of our business to try to stop our neighbor from drinking or his house from burning. It is our duty to try to assist each other over all the rough places along life's road. If you see me about to fall into the mud, you ought tO' kindly extend your hand or lend me your crutch, and I ought to be grate- ful and thoughtful enough to return the favor ; but should either of us be sensitive over the mutual aid ? My hoy friend — you who have just begun, at least have not grown old in, this loathsome practice — I tenderly plead with you. When your mother so often kissed your baby lips — so pure, so sweeti — she could not realize they would ever be polluted with tobaccO' stain. As you grew larger, she could readily excuse mud stains on her carpet, walls dis- figured with prints of small fingers and hands, parlor lit- teired with little treasures and broken toys; but have you an;j' idea how sad she felt when she began to shake to- bacco crumbs from your pockets ? Being aware that " sin never travels up grade," she knew this was a step in the wrong direction. She thought ahead and pictured you as you now appeiar and will appear later on if you keep up the practice. She begged you to^ quit at once, while the habit was a mere cobweb. She lovingly cautioned you and rea- soned with you, but you heeded not. You thought she wanted to deprive you of your liberties, keep you from hav- ing a " good time '' or from being like other " smart boys." , Attention a moment, please! ]\fy boy, for a few seconds Are; You a Si.ave? 281 lay aside your determination to do as you please. Think, think, think ! You know your pareaits have denied thean- selves many luxuries and saved money to educate yo'U and prepare you for a life of usefulness. Is this the way you show your gratitude ? Is it right ? Is it kind ? Will you take part of the very money they have kindly saved for you, OT that which you have earned an.d should substitute for part of theirs, and spend it for what they ai-e pleading with you not to use, for that which you hiow will do you no good whatever, but will be a disadvantage in vari- ous ways ? Is this gratitude ? How can you, how dare you, ask them to stand by yoiu and keep' supplying you with money, when you give so little heed to their wise couJis«ei ? If they kindly supply you greater things, ought you not to hearken to' tlieir little requests, especially if they aje for the upbuilding of your character ? Do not, be afraid soime one will say you are " overly nice " or the only one in your " circle " free from this habit. Rejoice in being the ex- ception to such a rule. It is only the vulgar and low who reproach and scoff at virtue and purity. It is the vulture that prefers the decaying carcass ; the eagle grasps at somje- thing better. The vulture would like for us all to die and be scattered broadcast — brought down to^ his level ; the eagle soars over the putrefying bodies and over the vulturei feed- ing thereon and seeks only the choicest food. Strange as it may seem, one of the greatest barriers to pure ydung man- hood is the fear, the seeming horror, of being considered an " oddity." That kind of " oddity " is coimmendable — 282 Hearthstone Echoes. sometliing to be proud of. Wake up, my boy! Slumbeir not in the tent of tiie fathers. The world is advancing; advance witli it. Eaise a high, standard, then try to attain thereto. Luck is only effoirt weJl directed. You will either lead or be led. Then why not be a leader in good things ? ^tsTever be leader in evil, for such a man is dreaded in any community. It gives him the wrong kind of notoriety. God has blessed you with a body to live in and keep clean and healthy — a dwelling for yo'ur mind, a temple for your souL He has kindly given you a mind with which to' rea- son, remember, decide, and store up wisdom and impart to others, but not to be converted into a chip basket or rubbish heap. Satan will never try to induce you to give up evil habits. " Temptations, resisted, are stepping-stones to heaven." Trifles make up the sum of life. Little bricks laid carefully, one by one, side by side, securely cemented, make large and durable structures. Let your character structure be made of a good quality of bricks, not of bad habits and broken resolutions. A young man often spends enough money unnecessarily and nonsensically before mar- riage to buy a good home and furnish it elegantly, then after marriage has to fall back to his economical parents for a shelter for two. Some one advises the girl tO' beware of a pocket full of nuts and candy. Very good ; and, girls, also beware of the pocket, containing tobacco crtunbs, cigars, or cigarettes. Here is a whisper for you. Listen ! If you do not try liarder to get that young man to give up iohacco, you will, after a wMle, have trouble and annoyance hrought Are You a Slave? 283 home to you; and you ought to, for yoiu are, to a great ex- tent, responsible for his using it. You are not half trying to induce him to stop. Furthermore, if he will not hearken to you now, look out after you marry I Young man, be your own master (neixt to the Lord). Break yourself loose from the bondage of contemptible hab- ite. " Vicious habits, when opposed, offer the most vigor- ous resistance on the first attack. At each successive en- counter this resistance grows fainter and fainter, until finally it ceases altogether, and the victory is achieved " — for the wrong. Coleridge " battled twenty years before he could emancipate himself from his tyrant, opium." A cer- tain man writes that he would " ruther have rumatiz, corns, and toothake, all together, than be tormented with this hankerin' fur tobacker," after he had " bin a-usin' the weed nigh on to twenty year," and tried to quit. He decided he had almost every ailment mentioned in the " doctur book," but persevered until he prevailed, shook off the shackles, and was free. iN'othing short of a moral war of independence will release you even now, my friend. The battle should be a short, decisive one — not a hesitating between duty and inclination. In the latter case wit pleads and fear disheart- ens. " He who would kill hydra had better strike off one neck than five heads; fell the tree, and the limbs are soon cut off." Habit is hard to conquer. Cut off the first letter, and " abit " remains ; erase the next, letter^ and the " bit " is still there : another, and we have " it " yet ; still another, 284 Hkarthstonk Echoed. and. it is not 'H' "totally gone. So destroy it utterly, then rejoice in your freedom. An eminent physician advises you to give up tobacco all at once, not by degrees. He says the first day will not be very hard, but in the evening of the second day you will feel " pretty tough." Your memory will become doubtful ; you will get things " mixed," become sluggish, impatient, irritable:; but you should not be dis- couraged, for this only malses known the extra amount of stimulant you have been taking intO' your system. He adds : " The third morning brings the: tug. ]^ow gO' and take an old-fashioned sweat Place an alcohol lamp under your chair, three or four blankets around your shoiulders, letting the other ends rest on the floor, and sweat until your skin is fairly parboiled. You will be just as corofortable for one day as you could wish — ^no dryness of mouth, no nervousness. You are perfectly comfortable for one day. The next day you will b© in trouble again. Take another sweat, take a third or a fourth onei. Sweating does not hurt people; sometimes it is good for them. Take three or four thorough sweats, and go off under sail, and have no further trouble from your enemy." Boys, if your will power is not sufficiently strong to emancipate you, sweai off the shackles of this vice, then never again bei decoyed into such a slavish trap. In your boyhood is the time to guard against una:- vailing regrets when you grow old. Living in the; I^ong Ago. 285 LIVING IN THE LONG AGO, 'Tis but folly and madness to sit down in sadness And sigh, for the past, when the future is ours; Though the way may be dreary and the heart faint and weary, We may list for the bird songs and look for the flowers; Though life has its losses, its cares, and its crosses. The loss and the cross may still be for our best, And each homely duty holds some hidden beauty; E'en by labor we learn the sweet meaning of rest. Thus by pain we may measure the worth, of each pleasure — We value our wealth by the wants we have known; And joy after sorrow, by contrast we borrow A completeness and sweetness fuller e'en than its own. The arch, of time spans the jeeterday, toi-day, and to- morrow. Yesterday is gone; this is to-day; it will soon be with yesterday, then to-morrow will be to-day. O time, how precious ! How carefully measured out to us, only one moment at a tinie^, and tliat moment taken from us forever ere we can grasp another ! Yesterday is dead and laid out in its black shroud, witli the twinkling stars toi guard and watch; the gentle night queen peeps through tke crevices. We wonder where the hours have fled. Many yesterdays have placed themselves on record, and " stand as sentinels, warning us not to duplicate them." To-morrow stands with pleading gesture and says : " Make me better than yester- daj." In a short time that same to-morrow will be crowded back with the yesterdays; then what shall be iis record? Its record must be made altogether in the brief to-day, the narrow span that links yesterday with to-morrow. Think of the brevity of to-day; think of its importance. 286 Hearthstons Echoes. Horn essential that its work be done in the golden now! Yet how prone are we to live in the yesterday or the to- morroWj disregarding the golden link that connectsi them ! The longer we live, the longer is the yesterday and the more are we inclined tO' live therein. An aged couple — wrinkled, gray, weak, eyesight and hearing impaired — are sitting by a firesidei They have long been faithful followers of the Meek and Lowly. Both now think they are tired of life, and lo'Ug for thei home awaiting them. Their heads are full of good advice, their hearts are full of love. They are living in the long ago, looking back to the time when they were young. They step back, back, back, counting the scores of milestone® they have passed by so speedily — seven years more than their threescore years and ten. They are young again, each around fond parents' knees, among the playful scenes of happy childhood. They liear the same birds singing that sung in the long ago; they gather the same wild flowers; they eat the same ginger cakes, pies, and puddings; to- gether they tread again the old school path; hc' gallantly carries -her books and slate, and she slyly divides with him the dainties of her lunch basket; he' looks lovingly at her, and she smiles in return^ each almost too timid toi Sipeak to the other; they visit the old log schoolhouse, which is taller by far than its wide-mouthed chinmey of clay and sticks; they behold again the petrified visage of their old teacher, who seems to regard it as a sin tO' smile; they hear his deep, stern voice proclaim the ironclad rule : " Go over IvIVING IN THK lyONG AgO. 287 your lesson twice; look at your books^ and not at me.'' Afteo* a nine-months' vacation, they enter school again — this time to a teacher who rules by love and wins hearts by kind words and smiles of pleasantry; they are spending a while among the merry girls and boys, but — "Ah me ! Those were happy days," says the. quaint old man ; " but they are gone^ all gonci. Ah me ! " "All gone. Ah me ! " softly echoes the sorrow.-shrouded wife. " O, the golden age of the past ! " Memory started with them again and stood them before the marriage altar' — she, in white satin ; he, in broadcloth. The future then revealed to them no clouds; bright pros- pects gleamed in front of them. Financial failure was not even dreamed of. He felt that with this fair young bride by his side he could conquer the world, if necessary ; but Life is real, life is earnest, and hope is often disappointed. They met with reiverses, many and severe, but endured them bravely. They became poor, very poor, but not disreputable. They had to work hard indeed^ but love sweetened the toil. So' the years moved on. But these noble pilgrims are still lost in memoiry, still living in the long ago. They talk of the " homespun " days of their young wedded life until they can almost hear the whir of the spinning wheel and the rattle of th,e looim. They find themselves picking cotton by the handful by the cozy log fire in the humble cabin home, preparatory to the 288 Heiarthstone; Echoks. " big quilting " the nest day, wliicli is to be enjoyed by tiie neighbor women, while the neighbors of the more stalwart class will be busy at the '' house raising " or " logrolling." " Rock, rock, rock ! " g-oes. thei old-fashioned cradle, moived by the mother's foot, while the sunburnt fingers are busily extracting the cotton seed and carefully putting theoai in a little box toi save for the next year's planting in one side of the tobacco patch. Memory gently leads them on throiugK the time when they petted and nourished and cherished the children of their hearts' delight, but — ■ " 0, the happy, happy days gone by ! Those good old times are gone forever, and we are left. Why ? 0, why ? We were happy then, and were very proud. We dreamed that we would spend our old age in the loving arms of Oiur dear children — wealthy, honored, loved ; but now — ^now — " He can say no more. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, and a large lump is in his throat. Her pallid face is buried in her hands and shawl; her sobs are audible. But soon the aged couple regain control of their feelings. They talk of the " good old times " and of the sorrowful times through which they have passed. In memory they find themselves mingling with friends whose heads have long been whited by the snows of time or kissed by the clay lips of the grave ; their lives have been as a day of shine and shadow^ and they are tracing them back and viewing the varied phases; they are watching tlie long, dark shadows that have passed over the sky of their existence and for the time obscured the sun; they linger around the bedside of the suffering and Living in the Long Ago. 289 dying; they are in the slow, solemn funeral procession; they hear the cold, damp clods fall over the remains of those dearer to them than life; they return to. the home: that is bereft, and there find solace in tears and sobs and prayers until the pitying angel of resig-nation comes to their relief, and, hovering over them, speaks words of cheer. They look again — ^by faith this time — and through the rifted cloud they see the star of hope ; their hearts feel deep emo~ tion : they are resigned ; the rift in the cloud grows wider, and they look still farther ; they see the judgment past and the pearly gates flung wide open; they see the crowned King of glory at the Father's right hand ; they see his beck- oning gesture to sainted spirits and hear the welcome: " Come home." Here the old man lovingly clasps the withered hand of her who has always been so true to him, draws her tenderly to his heaving bosom, and for a little while they are speech- less in each other's embrace. Clouds of sorrow have gath- ered thick over their tender hearts, whose deep emotions are made knowm by piteoius^ sobs. They have long been think- ing and talking over their melancholy condition — financial failures, children dead, lonely (0, so lonely!) — pining over the " used-to-be," recalling happier days ; but the sweet spir^ its of love and submission have united to penetratei the gloom, and the refreshing shower of tears has brought great relief. These noblei beings find themselves still happy, though they thought they were miserable. They are happy because, though everything else has been taken from them, 290 He;arthstonk Echoes. they are spared to each other ; happy because they by faith can see so- near them the pearly portals of their heia.venly home; happy because tlieir heartaches are nearly over and they will soon meet their loved ones at the great roll call. Together they now sing, with tremulous voices, the half- forgotten fragments of a song they used to sing. Into memory's half -vacant chamber stealing, sweet visions of the past now come lightly as the dewf all. The balmy air with music fairly breathes as they hear familiar voices that have not lost their cheer. Listen — ^the voices of Fannie, Mary, Sam., and John, dear children of their younger days ! Listen — the sweet and timid refrain of little Sallie, the baby girl ! Hush-sh-sh-sh ! Listen ! They hear the good old tunes, and all the house is filled with song. The old man leans his head against the mantel, and is soon in dream- land. His wife resumes her knitting, but is still lost in memory, and at times really thinks she is in the presence of those precious children and friends of her life's meridian. "No wonder those in an adjoining room often hear her speak low (a few words only), as if confidently speaking tO' some dear friend. In her soft reveries she reially speaks to them, and is aroused, as from a dream, by the cadence of her own voice^ Half ashamed that she, forq-etful, spoke aloud, she looks around to see if any one is near, then goes on with her knitting. In a few weeks her needles are carefully laid away; her work is done ; she has crossed the turbid sea. Not long is he left without her; his lifeboat is now propeUed more rap> I^iviNG IN the; " Ye;t-to-Be;." 291 idly, and he is soon beside her on tJie glory shore. Such is life, and such is the hope of the faithful. Yesterday is now a part of forever. Bound up in a sheaf which God holds tight, With glad days and sad days and bad days which never Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight. Their fullness of sunshine or sorrowful night. Let them go, since we cannot re-live them, Cannot undo and cannot atone; God in his mercy receive and forgive them! Only the new days are our own; To-day is ours, and to-day alone. LIVING IN THE ''YET-TO-BE.'' Although many persons live mostly in the past — ^walk- ing in memory the selfsame path which their weary feet have long since trodden, while old memories drag their slow lengths like " wounded sunbeams " — there is another class of people who live almost altogether in the present. They let neither faith nor reason take the helm ; they show no ap- preciation for past favors, make no improvement as to past blunders, attempt no preparation for the future, but seem to think of nothing but gratifying present physical wants. If the demand of to-day is satisfied — if they have all they want to eat, drink, and wear to-day — they appear content, and strictly obey the injunction : " Take ... no thought for the morrow." If friends have thus far sus- tained them, they regard it as only a matter of duty, and 292 Hearthstonb Echoes. they consider God's blessings as merely the result m its mistakes, and profit by its experieuces. Let us live in the future sufficiently to plan for its success, for all the good we can do, and to enjoy all its hopes and promises; but re- member that the ideal " good time coming " is reseirved in heaven for the faithful. Lett us live in the present suffi- ciently to do the work of Him that sent us " while it is day ; for the night comeith, when n,o man can work." SHADOWS ON THE WALL. Do you not remember when, in childhood's hours, we made shadows on the wall by holding our heads or hands in certain positions between the lamp and the whited wall on which the shadows were thrown? Some of these were 298 Hearthstone Echoes. very attractive in appearance, showing tlie profile of a smooth-featured face or the shape of beautiful hands; oth- ers were grotesque representations of some ugly creature. The principal shadow I remember making was the " sheep's head," with ears uplifted and occasionally twitching as if disturbed by an insect, tongue licking out at times, and jaws in continual motion as if " chewing the cud." There are shadows of other kinds on the walls of our homes — shadows cast by the photographer on canvas or paper, shadows representing the ideal features of persons we love. Some of these persons are with ua still, and can be recognized by their shadows on the wall; some have out- grown their shadows, which now^ only remind us of how the individuals once appeared; others have passed away from the scenes of the earth home, and their shadows are left as sacred mementos — cherished relics recalling to our minds many scenes and incidents long gone by, and reminding us that temporal existence will not last always — that we should be ready for the " great day coming," we know not when. Pulpit windows often display pictures of some of the most faithful workers of the church. In the pulpit win- dow of the First Christian Church, at Union City, Tenn., is a life-size picture, so true to life that those who ever saw the original need not look just below to read the name, " T. B. Osborne; " they will recognize him at first glance. I first saw the window at night; it made no special impres- ■ sion on my mind — was simply a circular window back of Shadows on the Wai,i,. 299 the pulpitj witli small panes of stained glass encircling a large pane. Thougli the half-full moon was sweetly smil- ing from without, and mo-re than a score of electric lights were glowing within the house, I observed no picture in that window until my attention was called thereto. The next morning I returned to the church after the sun had gilded the east and was spreading his oblique rays over the pleasant little city. The picture of Brother T. B. Osborne at once attracted my attention — so natural it looked like it could speak. I admired, I wondered at the marvelous genius that had reproduced on glass a picture with such a superb effect. Then my heart was filled with gratitude for all the Heaven-born powers and privileges granted to man and for the gift of such noble characters as the one whose picture is so worthy of a prominent place in the house of worship he so much loved and from which he was, several years ago, removed by death. I was also present at an afternoon service. The day king, having passed the zenith, was casting the shadows eastward. The picture showed at- tractiveness not seen in the morning. A striking halo sur- rounded it, causing a beautiful blending of the small, mul- ticolored panes of glass, resembling some ingenious mosaic. Just inside of this artistic rainbow effect and surrounding the picture was a circle of clear glass, which seemed to soften the rays of the midaftemoon sun as they peeped upon the audience and gently fell upon the printed pages of The old-fashioned Bible; The dear, blessed Bible; The large pulpit Bible that lay on the stand. 300 HSAliTHS'TONK ECHOKS. As the Sim sunk toward tlie western wave the light through the window shone brighter and brighter, until a striking brilliance was cast over the church interior and over the entire audience. So bright was the light that we felt like shading our eyes, yet we continued to admire the glorious halo and to discover new wonders in that picture. The brighter tlie light, the more distinctly were the high lights depicted on those placid cheeks and that noble brow. The whole countenance was so radiant it seemed that those lips could speak the praises to the God of love, as had their original, both in private and in public, so often done. " T. B. Osborne," in letters of clearest crystal just belo-w the picture, indicated to the stranger him who was held thus dear in the memory of that congregation. I have been informed that when this good man passed away every store, saloon, and business house in Union City was closed, and even court adjourned, during the funeral services, in which every preacher in the city voluntarily took an active part. The funeral procession was one of the largest ever known in the city, and the grief seemed uni- versal. Everybody appeared to realize that a noble citizen, a gentleman, a Christian, had gone from his devoted family, from the city, from the shores of time. Header, if you ever see that picture, or a similar one, do not be content with only one view, but look at it in the mild morning light; then be sure to watch it grow brighter and truer in the glowing sunlight as it passes toward even- tide. Thus was the life of this good man, who, though dead, Let Him Tai,k. 301 " yet speaketh; " and tlius should be tlie lives of all of God's children. Sometimes, in the night of gloom, we fail to behold the attractions of life, because we view them in the Avrong light. We permit the ordinary light of the world to obscure their beauty; whereas, if we will view them in Heaven's light, we will realize their merit. How sweet is the life that can bear close investigation, that will shine more brilliantly when tested by the great search light of immortality ! We are imprinting life shadows upon the minds, hearts, and memories of our friends and other acquaintances that will last long after we shall have ceased to live. Let us try not to let those shadows be grotesque representations of evil spirits, but pictures of love, sympathy, patience, humil- ity, and right living. LET HIM TALK. You may get through this world, but 'twill be very slow If you don't tell your neighbor all that you know. He'll be worried and fretted and kept in a stew; His meddlesome tongue will find something to do, And you're expected to talk. One neighbor will tell you the faults of another, Especially the faults of a church sister or brother. He expects you to be in same kind of humor. And help him circulate the reports of Miss Rumor. He wants you to talk. He will tell you that sister should be out of the church; That this brother has done wrong (for his guilt "we" must search) That brother has shamefully treated his neighbor; The other gets drunk, blaspheming his Savior. Hush, and let him talk! 302 He;arthstone; Echo^. THE OLD WOOLEN SCARF. I'm an old woolen scarf, both soiled and ragged. The days of my usefulness long since have passed; My bright hues have faded, my beauty departed (Alas, what short time does the beautiful last!). In the days of my " youth " I was bought for my beauty By a devoted young husband to present to his bride. She prized me so highly; she treated me kindly, My stripes of gay colors never trying to hide. Time fled. I grew older, as did the young couple; I helped shield three children from the wintry blast. But became worn and soiled — too much so for duty — And into the rag basket was carelessly cast For many long weeks I lay in the closet. But on winter nights then rag carpets were tacked. Running short of material, they drew forth this basket, And myself, with the other old rags, they unpacked. A huge pair of scissors yawned over me frightfully, Then closed their great mouth and dropped by my side. My owner was thinking: " Shall I destroy this old treasure — A present from my husband when I was a bride? Its usefulness is over; I need not retain it. Such keepsakes accumulate till they're in the way." So up went the scissors, changing me into " ribbons;" . . . In the carpet I was trodden on day after day. Many years have been added to the age of my possessor; I've returned where the grass and the violets grow. Time's wrought great changes in this same little family; Both pleasures and heartaches have been theirs, you know; Yet when in fond memory my owner recalls me. Thinks how oft she was wrapped in my stripes gay and wide, She regrets having not kept, as a relic of her young days. This first present from her husband when she was a bride. Thk Mote Findkr. 303 THE MOTE FINDER. This is one of tlie busiest little macliines I know of. It finds motes anywhere, everjwliere, and never becomes tired of picking at them. It discovers them where we would not think of looking, and many which would not ordinarily be recognized as such. It finds them in the house or in the field; it finds them in books, finds them in looks; it finds them in man's actions, finds them on his tongue. It is es- pecially gifted in finding motes in the pulpit and in the schoolroom: but the one to which it points its long, slender index finger most frequently and picks at most earnestly is " the mote in the brother's eye." I^either does it attempt to extract it, but causes it to stand out so prominently it is distinctly seen, regardless of the prodigious beams that may be in the eyes of the observer. It embraces every op- portunity to display the motes in an individual's character, as if expecting high wages for all such work. Now, if this small (it is very small) machine would ex- tract the motes it finds, it would be of inestimable worth (would that the world had such a machine!); but it neiver does that. The little " hypercritical critic " seems blind to everything beautiful or good. It is a specialist- — sees noth- ing but motes, yet never attempts to destroy one of them. It seeks diligently till it finds them, then carefully points them out, magnifying them as much as possible, until ev- erybody can plainly behold them; then goes to work to find others. ISTothing is gained by making the little ugly motes especially prominent unless there was some provi- 304 Hkarthstonk Echoes. sion made for eradicating them. The mote finder will take up a book and carefully point out its errors or blemishes, even to persons not concerned in it and to those who would not otherwise discern them, thus unnecessarily depreciating or overshadowing the good therein contained; then it will rashly cast aside a good book on account of a trifling mote which amounts to nothing. If it is to expose false doctrines or theories, or in any way to be advantageous, this should always be done. Many times the motes can hib easily de- tected and removed, leaving in the book much that is val- uable, if the finder will only call the attention of the proper individual. A few persons will kindly do this, and such are held in high esteem; but the professional mote finder is not worthy of being personified as " he " or " she," but, as Sam. Jones says about the dude, he must be called "it." Young man, how long before you expect to marry ? Ex- cuse the pointed question, but I just want tO' make an im- portant suggestion to you. You ought to^ begin to correct that to7ie at least ten years before you marry, or you mil many times unintentionally pierce the tender heart of love to which in youth you have plighted your sineerest vows. I heard you speak tO' your mother last night in tones that pierced as spikes of steel; I saw the color come and go in her pale cheeks; I heard the sigh escape fro^m her choked throat; I heard her sobs and saw her wet pillow after she fell asleep. She did not know any one was near. Will you not correct that tone ? **Pre;ach The Word." 305 ** PREACH THE WORD,'' Preach on, my dear brother; the pure gospel proclaim, Converting the alien in our Savior's blest name; Influence the wicked from error to flee. Their souls from all sin, all corruption, to free. Fight on, valiant soldier, till the battle you win; Contend against evil, against temptation — sin; Let nothing entice you from Jesus to stray; In heaven awaits you a glorious day. Hold fast the true armor of hope, love, and faith. The " sword of the Spirit," which waves over death; The shield of all righteousness fold to your breast. And press to that land of sweet, heavenly rest. Be not " blue " or discouraged, though sorrows attend; He who was death's conqueror is also your friend. Remember, " all things work together for good " To the truly redeemed through Christ's precious blood. The Father, in mercy, has promised' to save Those who faithfully triumph o'er sin's dark'ning wave. Then press on, right onward; the Spirit assures That, after life is ended, the vict'ry is yours. Though Death will at last his cold fingers extend, A victim to grasp you — no pity to lend — Yet trust with all fervor in God, who is love. Who will give you a life crown of glory above. "JACK AT ALL TRADES." "A POOK, slovenly woman, living in a little old log cabin in the backwoods, was asked as to her husband's trade or profession. She replied : ' Well, he's one of these handy, gifted sort o' persons, my man is. He can jest turn his 3o6 Hearthstone Echoes. hand to anything. He's a blacksmith by profession; but he cooked in a rest'rant in town most o' last winter, and he done kyarpenterin' and paintin' all spring, and then he lec- tured on temp'rance a while until he got a chance tO' run an injine for a month or two, and then he dug wells and hung wall paper until he got a good chance to lay brick at three dollars a day.' " 'And what is he doing now ? ' asked the amused guest. " ' Teachin' singin' school; but he 'lows to give it up pretty soon and go to practicin' medicine. He kin do any- thing he's a mind to turn his hand to.' " Eeader, are you as fortunate as that man ? Boys, have a profession or a settled vocation of some kind. Girls, learn to do as well as to he. A " wall flower " is nice toi look upon, but where is the man of reason who is willing to give his heart to it? Be such a character that the man who ex- chanfires hearts with vou will not decide that he is cheated. UNFORTUNATE '*R.^ "A little nonsense now and then Is relished by the best of men." Why is " E " an unfortunate letter? Because it is Confined in the cheaper articles — as paper, iron, copper, and brass; Knows nothing of the valuable stones nor metals of highest class; Is in no jewel — amethyst, diamond, opal, or onyx of old; Is barely found in silver, never in genuine nor plated gold; Is crooked, deformed, out of shape, and broken down; Corroded, tarnished, cankered, rusty, and brown. Unfortunate "R." 307 He's always in disastrous war, with no hope of calm or peace; Is doubled in sorrow; is horrified; has no solid joy or bliss; Hungry, athirst, and weary; no chance for quietude, food, or sleep; Severely crippled in a terrific storm; cannot walk, can scarcely creep; Is " always in riot, in wrath, and in ruin; Never in happiness, love, or welldoing," Tired, decrepit, and miserable, enjoying no ease nor health; Born and reared in poverty, with no convenience or wealth; Always "pressed," "cramped," "embarrassed;" "does not own a penny;" His "purse strings forever broken," "pocketbook empty;" Always " rushed " — in a " dreadful hurry " (yet remains till driven away. And never comes until to-morrow when a debt he is to pay). He never intends to pay his debts; is neither consistent nor hon- est ('tis funny; He rattles his dollars by the hundred, but is " bankrupt " when we need money) ; Is a perfect miser, yet invariably " at the door of starvation;" Lives like a hermit, discarding scores of friends and relation; Is very partial — sees first to the rich, last to the poor; And turns away hungry every tramp from his door. The girls scorn him and pronounce him " dreadfully green," For even a small town or village he's neither visited nor seen; "A curiosity," they think; "a runabout, yet has never seen a city;" Illiterate, careless, "rusty;" neither fine-looking, neat, nor witty; Has no taste for the beautiful, sublime, lovely, or gay; Is neither handsome nor stylish ("his tie not up to date," they say). 3o8 He;arthstone Echoes. Wandering, roaming, rambling; never patient, kind, nor still; Makes many a precious promise, not one to fulfill; Fierce as an enraged tiger, viper, panther, or bear — In ev'ry row, quarrel, disturbance, or disagreeable affair. All efforts to polish and make pleasant are vain — This cowardly hypocrite, uncultured, profane. A fretful old " grunter " — grumbling, suffering, and distressed; Worried, angry, miserable, forsaken — severely oppressed; Into every trouble, trial, torture, discord, and strife; No management, no economy; not satisfied with home or life; Unfortunate, from severe tribulation ne'er free; Grum, cross, crabbed, and rough as can be. Shirks out of all duty; is a sluggard, tardy — never on time; Thrice in error, terror, and horror found, and second in ev'ry crime. Morose, extravagant; in hatred, disgrace, and despair; Ready the ripe fruits (not the toils) of others to share; Appears perplexed, persecuted, yet will squander and bribe; The rogue, the extortioner, with no conscience to chide. He's eccentric, unpopular, greedy, nervous, and fearful; Discouraged, dishonorable, careworn, and tearful; Never decided; has no employment, no occupation — no vocation; Yet must work hard every hour — not one minute's vacation. He broods over his bitter treatment till he almost goes wild; For no kindness is shown him by man, woman, or child. He's sour as vinegar; a tattler, backbiter, abrupt. Ignorant, repulsive, disreputable, corrupt. Presumptuous, overbearing, prejudiced, untrue; Ready to criticise and censure — not half so quick to do; A proverbial, chronic fault-finder; first in retaliation. With no inclination to make compensation. Unfor'tunate; "R." 309 A perpetual dram drinker, a toper — always drunk (Oft secreting his rum in his traveling trunk) ; Is in jeopardy for evermore, not one moment free from care; Has responsibilities greater than it seems that he can bear; Is frail, infirm, and gray, with none to pity or to save. He'll expire in a desert dreary and fill a pauper's grave. He tears up, scatters, and destroys, not attempting to make, mend, or find; A peculiar, forlorn character, with no intelligence — with no mind. Not steadfast, independent, accomplished, complete; Ragged, barefooted, frost-bitten, with nothing to eat; In the midst of dire misfortune, deprived of justice and of might; Imprisoned in utter darkness — never sees one gleam of light. Not happy nor contented, he tries to crawl higher and higher, At last dropping prostrate into the burning fire. Thence into freezing water he'll voluntarily slip; Such extremes, of course, assuring him of a yearly return of grippe. Though not acting wisely, he considers himself "smart;" Yet his worst blunders are not from the head, but the heart. This burglar, this murderer, in the penitentiary must stay. Where he curses, swears, reviles, and " jowers " night and day. The crazy old " crank," instead of having the tact of a sage, Is a boisterous, jabbering chatterbox, keeping up a horrid rage; Is a robber — a Barabbas, Harp, Murrell — on and on; Never a Clay, Columbus, LaFayette, or Washington. A notorious gambler, though without even a toe or thumb, Or common sense enough to be a second-class " bum." Very crooked are his fingers, without a single joint; So, in trying to play the various games, he can never " make a point." His brow is full of wrinkles; he has no lips to kiss — A queer, irregular character, a curious " creature " this. 3IO Hearthstone Echoes. He can never be a man; has no limbs, body, neck, or head; If he had, he could never find a pillow, couch, or bed. Rarest fragrance is lost to him, because he has no nose. He never sleeps one moment — cannot even nod or doze. Deprived of sight, taste, smell, and touch, he can do naught but hear. O, the many sorrowful stories poured right into his ear! He has no hands to feed himself; neither has he feet to walk. Deprived of eyes, teeth, and tongue, he can neither see nor eat nor talk; No mouth with which to speak, or smile, or chat, or sing, or laugh. (Of this wreck's deplorable misfortunes I have not mentioned half.) His earth lot is a hard one, and will change never, never; He must remain in torment forever and ever. If we are in the wrong place, it should give us great alarm. Lest it should result in very serious harm. We can change our position, however, no doubt; But poor " R " is placed there, and can never get out. So express your condolence, kind friends, near and far; I know you feel sorry for " Unfortunate R." My measure is imperfect, but might have been better. Had it not been for this unfortunate letter. Fortunate "R." 311 FORTUNATE "R.'' When one side of life looks dark, my brother, Turn yourself around and look at the other. Why is " R " a fortunate letter? Because he is Not idle, lazy, indolent; but remains at honorable work; Out of vile, wicked company always contriving to " shirk;" Envies no one; is not jealous; has no enemy to condemn; Treats others as he desires to be treated by them; Never opposes nor imposes, but bravely protects. And earns far more than he ever expects. Never despondent, woe-begone, melancholy, or " blue " O'er past mistakes or evils he cannot mend or undo; Always merry and mirthful — not disposed to insult or fight; Not mad, mean, nor contentious, but " straight for the right." Though to outward appearance he is rather rough. He was never accused of being a " tough." Is firm, determined, resolute; he'll prosper, or he'll try; Reliable, trustworthy — never once guilty of telling a — ^I'e. None doubt his veracity, fortitude, or worth; His industry and energy are strongly put forth; Not vain nor deceitful — utters pure words of truth; Warns, guards, and encourages the wayward youth. Entirely responsible, rational — ^by no means insane; Knows nothing of sickness, an ache, or a pain. For every malady he carries a real " sure cure " — Not patent medicines; they're "first-rate" remedies; he'll insure All his prescriptions are harmless — from poison free — Nor will they salivate (this doctor will *' guarantee "). 312 Hearthstone Echoes. Far from being a bondsman, be always was free, Witb " not a stingy bone in him " — liberal as can be; Always at leisure — never vexed, " out of sorts," nor in haste; The very center of charity; known never to want or waste. Faith and hope are grand indeed, but have no " R," you see; So greater far than either of these is renowned charity. He has no patience with the fugitive, vagabond, or thief; But comforts the troubled and gives the beggar relief. Instead of cheating a widow, he completes her dower. Then encircles her door with a rich floral bower; Neither too " fast " nor too timid, fault-finding nor in debt; But the frailties of others he'll forgive and forget. Perfectly rested — not dejected, afflicted, nor faint; Of his evil companions he makes no complaint; His next-door neighbor he does not abuse. Nor attempt to cheat others out of their dues; Is never a " wolf in sheep's clothing," I'm sure; But is honorable, reasonable, upright, and pure. Firm, persevering, progressive, strong, And in proper proportion — not too thick nor too long; Large, matured, deliberate, considerate, and brave; Makes a paradise of life, yet shuns not the dark grave. His correctness is not doubted — he fills contracts " on the square;" Is sincere, courteous, prayerful, upright, and fair. Is no dude, speaks no slang — is a " silver-tongued orator;" Has friends by the score — not a spot on his character; Is never intoxicated — takes no whisky, gin, or wine; Remains erect and sober, cultured and refined. The vile tobacco habit he will readily refuse; For he never at any time smokes, dips, or chews. Fortunate; " R." 313 In rewards of merit he's first and central — never is last; Has never stood one moment at the foot of his class. The more important prize he resolves to obtain; Then, if at first does not succeed, will " try, try again." His own peculiarities he does not try to smother, Yet spends no time finding fault with another. He'll escape ev'ry cyclone, gale, and tempest high and loud; Is foremost in ev'ry rainbow bright — sees not a dismal cloud; In war he's victorious — sure to triumphantly prevail; Heroic, fearless, courageous — ^knows not how to "fail;" Receives slight bruises and scars in each skirmish, and sprains; But no matter how he sufEerS;, he never moans nor complains. Has a warm-hearted father; a true, tender mother; A pure, precious sister; a dear, darling brother. He provides for the poor with a heart warm, sincere; Helps support orphan children — gives them tenderest care. On none of life's duties he presumes to look down; Bears the rugged cross bravely — is sure of the crown. The richest and poorest alike In him confide; He's cheerful, earnest, clever, and on the popular side. Girls are proud of him; for he is not " tacky," you know; And never scolds, pouts, nor says: " I told you so! " Listen, girls! He's not engaged; has not even " got up a case." Probably you can capture him, if you have discretion and grace. He'll not be managed by a gossiping, contentious wife; Will himself be the conctuering "hero in the strife;" But he lays the vexation of politics high " on the shelf; " So, as an agreeable partner, he'll treat you better than himself. He is well versed in poetry, prose, and history; And the way he gathers riches is a " marvelous mystery." 314 Hearthstone Echoes. He's a rich " old bachelor " — a millionaire; can marry any hour; He gambles not, defrauds not, has great strength and power; Is not baldheaded, ugly, deceitful, covetous, deaf, dumb, or blind; Dissipated, unchaste, conceited, snappish, ill, unkind. Peevish, " moody," fickle, nor speaks in haughty tone, But will prove to be a wonderful " power behind the throne." Though no dude nor egotist, he charms the aristocratic girl By wearing an emerald, a ruby, sapphire, and a priceless pearl. He'll never let you famish — will provide pork, poultry, butter, and bread; Has large stores and fertile farms, besides silver and "green- back " ahead. However, girls, if you want him, you must be more than witty; He requires you to be cultured, prudent, practical, and pretty. On his spirituality I might comment much, For he passes by the saloon and enters the church; Doesn't show himself silly by giggling or chewing gum; Is the principal singer — not the man who can only " hum." He praises the Creator with every breath; May at last be translated without seeing death. For each cloud's silvery lining he'll carefully search; He is always reserved and respectful at church; Never talks during prayer nor passes notes to another. Or anything else the good preacher to bother. The disturber of worship he reproves there and then; Yet if others revile him, he abuses not again. His years are not limited, like those of men; They number far more than " threescore and ten." His fair reputation has spread everywhere. Like rare, royal fragrance " on the desert air." When time's centuries are all numbered with the " used to be," Onward he'll march through eternity. Fortunate " R. " 315 He's a grand reality — not an object of chance; Invariably in worship — never goes to the giddy dance; Reads no novel or fiction nor uses language obscene; Heads the Scriptures; is righteous, consecrated, serene; Is no heathen, infidel, skeptic, atheist, or pagan; But a brave Christian soldier, with heartfelt religion. Slighting not Christ our Savior, Redeemer, Master, Lord; Nor neglecting to observe the Father's sacred word; Will never see Satan nor his place of habitation; Knows nothing of falsehood, foe, or temptation; Is immortal — dies not, will not pass away; With the redeemed, the ransomed, in glory will stay. Is a prominent character — tried, trusted, and true; Without him we do not see how we could do; He helps spell our earth and its verdure so green; Leave him out, and a dilapidated sight would be seen — No April to bring warm, refreshing spring showers That foretell and precede the charming May flowers; No electricity to brighten our homes and streets more; No telegrams darting from shore to shore; No wire cable to carry words far o'er the sea, Girding earth with the freshest information that be; Not even a country paper to circulate the news And instruct politicians which candidate to choose. The grand center of America would be entirely knocked out — Every creature, fruit, and flower; rock, tree, shrub, and sprout. With all the corn and other grain that furnish us with bread And every radiant star that sparkles overhead — All these and many other words we could never, never spell Without " R," whose wondrous merits I am trying now to tell. 3i6 Hearthstone; Echoes. In many places I could have made my rhyme smoother by far By slandering the reputation of my mysterious " R;" But he meddles not with the business of young or old, And concerning his many virtues " the half has never been, told." Then from all who dwell beneath the skies Let " R's " triumphant praise arise. Life has two sides — a dark and a light one. We should be sure to look most at the bright one. Life is fortunate, or not, somewhat as we take it; Gloomy or cheerful, we can do much to make it. From one standpoint " R " is an unfortunate letter; From another its condition could not be made better. If you want to see "R" not in dark, but in light, words. Turn, as well as you can, from all but the right words. Thus life has enough sorrow, any way we take it; Then as pleasant as possible let's try to make it. If my friends accuse me of exaggeration. Please ask them to view life from a different station. I trust you'll not think I'm without solemnity or car©; For I, like the rest of you, have a large share; But let us look high above it, then some sweet day It will be overcome or driven far, far away. Let's look more at the bright than the dark side of life; At its comforts and promises, not its sorrow and strife. You remember the shield (whose story has grown old). One side of which was silver, the other side gold. The two men who quarreled looked in opposite ways; One thought the shield gold, the other thought it gray. So life is somewhat two-faced — melancholy, bright; We can view it as sad and gloomy or cheery and light. Fortunate; "R." ^i? Then " about face!" Turn your back on the world's subtle foe. Forsake the great enemy, and he will flee, you know. The way to give life the appearance of pure gold: Stay on the Lord's side, submissive, steadfast in his fold. Then the shield will turn to gold from gray When the mists of life shall have cleared away. Many other words I have adjusted in rhyme With mysterious "R;" but I'll spare your time. For the patience of my reader may already be weary Tracing a double-faced character— so bright, yet so dreary. Whoever suggests that this poem might be better Must remember I am dealing with a two-faced letter; And should he find fault with my imperfect measure, He may scan it, arrange it, and rearrange at pleasure. If he'll adjust all these words into respectable rhyme, I will give him a premium, and plenty of time. If he beats me in arranging a " pack of nonsense," He may look for his premium a hundred years hence. 3i8 Hearthstone Echoes. ECHOES FROM MAMMOTH CAVE. (Revised from articles written for a local paper immediately after our return from the cave.) LONG ROUTE. I. The wonderful underground world — so justly the pride of " Old Kentucky!" Reader, go with us a while in our subterranean ram- bles. We stand a moment at the only known entrance. This is said to be " where the roof has been broken through, and whose rocky fragments, partly filling the subterranean dome, serve as stepping- stones down into darkness." This yawning chasm is estimated to be one hundred and eighteen feet below the crest of the bluff. "We gaze admiringly on the majestic waterfall trickling from the high cliffs, supplying drink for the beautiful ferns and nodding grasses and reflecting the light of the morning sun. We start down the rustic stairway, and begin to shiver in the cave's cold breath. The great Day King no longer pursues us with his radiant beams; twilight seems rapidly approaching; but — look! — our guide has provided us with other lights. Let us wait until he starts again, and " where he leads we will follow." Our little party being evenly divided, the seven gentlemen po- litely carry the lanterns. Being natural curiosity seekers, we women make fine use of our eyes and tongues — strange as this may sound to the reader. As we lose ourselves from the light of day, we feel more and more sensibly the strong current of cold air, until, becoming chilled, we begin to fear our lovely ( ? ) cave costumes of heaviest woolen waterproof will prove insufficient to keep us comfortable (this, June 13, 1899). However, this current is only near the en- trance; and we soon find the cool cave atmosphere so exhilarating we have feelings akin to sporting childhood. It is astonishing to think of the rapid progress and little fatigue in making these un- derground journeys. We attribute this partly to the convenient KCHOKS FROM MAMMOTH CaVB. 319 costumes, partly to the bracing atmosphere (almost as pure as that from Harmon's snow-capped summit), and partly to the mental stimulus received from the great variety, novelty, and grandeur of the subterranean scenery, which for more than fifty-eight centu- ries was unknown to the civilized world. The " glorious nineteenth " justly boasts of her discoveries and progress as to the many uses of steam, electricity, and other con- veniences. Her praises are sent forth in the car bell's tones and the steamship's whistle, then carried from shore to shore by the ocean's cables, and read by tame lightning's flash. While natu- rally enraptured over these, she should not overlook some of her smaller, yet marvelous, discoveries, among which is Mammoth Cave. Our nation is proud of it, and the gallant old State is ren- dered more famous thereby. When she raises a banner to the memory of Daniel Boone, by its side let wave a banner in honor of Hutchins, that veteran Nimrod, and permit a piece clipped therefrom to serve as a bandage for the disabled foot of the leg- endary bear that first led a white man into this wondrous laby- rinth. Tennessee has her tall, rocky Cumberland, with its Lookout Mountain; Florida, her mirrorlike lakes; Mississippi, her grandly sweeping namesake; Maryland, her Chesapeake Bay; New York, her side of the leaping Niagara; Utah, her Great Salt Lake; Wyo- ming, her Yellowstone Park; California, her Yosemite; yet our beloved sister State is proud of her Mammoth Cave. But our guide, with his double lantern, again moves forward; we must follow. On and on we go, unhesitatingly; for we feel sure he knows the way, though for a long distance he says but little — leaves us to wonder and admire. A peculiar feeling creeps over us, since we have voluntarily turned our eyes from the light of the world and entered a region of perpetual darkness, but not a feel- ing akin to fear. We feel sure no formidable person or beast is here to molest us; for that " big iron gate," near the entrance, has doubtless been kept locked more than half a century. Unless an earthquake should jostle this terrestrial ball, we apprehend no dan- ger whatever of the structures giving way and engulfing us; for the 320 HEARTHSTONE KCHOES. whole cave seems upheld by gigantic pillars and massive walls and covered by an eternal arch of limestone. For a long way most of the passage is very narrow and the smooth overhead ceiling so low we have to retain a stooping posture to protect our heads. Thus we pass through Hutchin's Narrows, the Valley of Humility, view the Scotchman's Trap (a huge rock on corner), go through Buchanan's Way, and other places of interest. Some of these nar- row paths are walled on each side by loose stones, the work of in- dustrious miners in the early history of the cave — a silent testi- mony that " their works do follow them." Not soon shall we for- get Grecian Bend avenue, where we must walk stooped so low our heads are entirely hidden in front of our bodies. The guide cries out: "Against the law to deface the ceiling! " So we are careful not to bump very hard ( do not want to violate the law, you know). Again he cautions us: "Don't leave the path and get lost!" (It is impossible to leave the path here.) We are inclined to call this and several other low, narrow passages a combination of " Fat Man's Misery " and " Tall Man's Misery." But here the walls suddenly recede. The pathway leads gently downward a few feet; the ceiling is greatly elevated; and we find ourselves in the large and most welcome hall of " Great Relief " — certainly an appropriate name for the outlet from these Narrows. Without waiting for special summons from the guide, we here " straighten our spines and enjoy the luxury of a full breath." We now reach the Rotunda, said to be immediately under Mam- moth Cave Hotel. Sixty feet above us is "the grand arch which forms the roof of this immense hall, broken into folds and frets of great beauty along the upper margin. The ceiling is one great expanse of whitish limestone, unsupported by pillar or column, and is formed by the junction of two large avenues which at last take shape as one's eyes become accustomed to the gloom. That great avenue to the right is Audubon avenue, and will take us to Olive's Bower, containing the nearest and most beautiful stalac- tites to be seen in the cave. To the left stretches away for miles the Main Cave, a wonderful avenue of great height and width." Echoes prom Mammoth Cave. 321 (Cave Manual.) The Britannica says the Main Cave is "from forty to three hundred feet wide and from thirty-five to one hun- dred and twenty-five feet high," and contains several vast rooms, such as the Rotunda, the Star Chamber, and the Chief City — the latter with an area of two acres and covered by a vault one hun- dred and twenty-five feet high. II. Soon we find ourselves gazing at a striking example of natural mimicry — "masses of limestone hanging down like hams, shoul- ders, and sides of bacon " from the ceiling of what is known as Bacon Chamber. ' This " bacon " is more densely crowded than in most of our smokehouses; but as the large kettle in the ceiling is inverted, we infer they do not care to have us stop and dine. Now we are in Odd Fellows' Hall, first looking at its lonesome monu- ment of stones, then lifting our eyes toward the three large links coupled together on the ceiling, distinct as if made and placed there by one of the five lonely " odd fellows " (bachelors) in our crowd. In an adjacent apartment our attention is called to some " doughnuts " on the ceiling. One of our bachelors, possibly won- dering if they will be his only accessible food in the Odd Fellows' Hall, mournfully asks, "Are the doughnuts baked?" to which the guide calmly replies: "I doughnut know." Yonder is the Atlantic Cable, another peculiar stalactitic forma- tion, resembling a massive rope stretched diagonally across the entire overhead ceiling; then a similar representation of the Alle- gheny and Monongahela Rivers, as they unite to form the Ohio River. We have entered the extensive River Hall, whose subter- ranean waters " come no one knows whence, flow no one knows whither, and emerge no one knows where." While admiring a beautiful cliff sixty feet high, our attention is called to an isolated pool, far beneath us, guarded by iron railing. In consequence of its sullen water and great depression it is called the " Dead Sea." Near here, in 1881, was found a natural mushroom bed, which sug- gested the artificial ones in Audubon avenue, which failed for want 322 Hearthstone; Echoes. of proper irrigation. Had they been placed here amid the perpet- ual moisture instead of in that dry region, the result might have been a fortune to the owner. Soon we cross the noted river Styx (about forty feet wide), on the Natural Bridge. Here we first really behold the long-heard-of eyeless fish and crawfish — living evidence that God has made nothing without a purpose. We also find cave crickets and spiders, all of which, like the eyeless fish and crawfish, are white and seemingly almost transparent, being forever shut in from the light of day. These sightless " little folks " are furnished with extremely long " feelers," which to some extent supply the place of eyes. In passing, we view the placid waters of Lake Lethe, the Mythological Lake of Healing. The mud-covered limestone ledges in this region are unmistakable signs of high water. At times the cave rivers rise rapidly from torrents emptying into them through the numberless funnel-shaped sink holes in that vicinity, thus " forming a vast, continuous body fully two miles long, varying from thirty to sixty feet in depth." They subside more slowly. You naturally ask how a party could escape if unfortunately caught beyond the rivers during a sudden rise. By sixteen months of hard labor, directed by the manager, Mr. H. C. Ganter, a new way (Ganter avenue) has been opened, obviating this difficulty. We are now making footprints on a beach of fine yellow sand — a pleasant change for weary feet. This is the Great Walk of four hundred yards to Echo River. The " ceiling " is almost ninety feet above, and " most beautifully mottled with black and white lime- stones, like snow clouds in a wintry sky. By igniting magnesium we get the wonderful effect in its splendor;" and, enhanced by the cave's wintry breath, we are made to feel almost like there is a possibility of the feathery flakes peppering down into our faces from the densely banked clouds. By the same light we have a magnificent view of Shakespeare's Galleries — beautiful ledges or shelves of projecting stone many feet above us and six hundred feet in length; also of the large picture of this great bard on the ceiling, so distinctly outlined as to be easily recognized. Echoes from Mammoth Cave. 323 We have reached the famous Echo River, and here is a nice lit- tle fleet of flatboats awaiting us. Consider for a moment the labor of bringing to this place the material for making all these, each of the half dozen boats being of sufiicient size to accommodate twenty passengers. For a long time every piece of timber had to be brought in by way of Fat Man's Misery. Echo River! Long have I heard of it, and now I long for lan- guage to describe it, which language has never trembled on mortal tongue nor tipped the point of the most gifted pen. The almost ice-cold stream does not appear sullen; yet its current is so slight scarcely a ripple is to be seen playing upon its placid bosom, ex- cept when the guide occasionally uses his long paddle a moment in propelling the boat. Most of the time he slightly pushes with his hand against the overhead arch or the side of the cave. The smooth archway above us is of dull-gray limestone, and varies in height from five to thirty feet; while as to depth the water is said to vary about the same (from five to thirty feet), its width being from twenty to two hundred feet. How delightful this interval of repose, while for half a mile we calmly, gently, sweetly glide over these pacific waters, feeling no fear, though three hundred and fifty feet beneath the sun's bright rays — three hundred and fifty feet beneath a spray of grass or any other vegetation, except the few slight specimens of white fungus growth peculiar to the cave! We feel sure He who planned this wondrous labyrinth can uphold its ponderous walls; so we humbly, lovingly commit ourselves to His care. The marvelous echo over this stream could scarcely be exagger- ated — that melodious prolongation and rapid repetition of sound, vibrating and reverberating along the various ledges, cliffs, and crevices. Wonderful, sublime! The guide strikes the water or side of the boat with his paddle. The blow sounds like an im- mense gun or cannon, which is answered by another, then an- other. Again and again, on and on, it is reproduced, until it sounds like armed forces engaged in deadly combat. When this has slowly died away in the distance, the guide gives a succession 324 He;arthstone Echoes. of musical tones, wMch intermingle and have a pleasing effect on the ear as they pass throughout the dark tunnel. Then follow several good old songs by our little party, led by the clear, sweet voice of Miss Trice. Though but few are singing, and most of them very softly, the sound would indicate a magnificent choir of a hundred or more. If a thousand such voices above ground could expand their volume in the same degree indicated by this little band buried so far beneath the earth's rustic crust, surely the vibrations of these same sweet old songs of national renown — "Suwannee River;" "Ben. Bolt;" "On the Banks of the "Wabash Far Away;" " Old Kentucky Home;" " Sweet By and By;" " Home, Sweet Home," etc. — would almost reach the Appalachian Moun- tains, rebound therefrom and strike the craggy heights of the stony-ribbed " Rockies " with such force as to scatter their melo- dies from the tropics to the arctic snows. Do not tell me such work as this is not directed by a Hand divine! Look! Yonder is a distant light — a landing in Purgatory! We do not desire to land there; but if we will follow implicitly the directions of our guide, no evil shall betide. Orpheus calling Eury- dice from purgatory is here vividly represented by Mrs. Brown. It seems the entire cavern is in sympathy with the unfortunate, and hands down from clifE to cliff, in plaintive tones: " Eurydice, Eurydice, Eurydice!" The ceiling is here so low we have to bow as low as possible — almost lie down in the boat — to pass through, even in time of low water. The mysterious light is held by a wel- come visitor — the man who has brought our dinner; but we shall not eat here. On we sail, and soon land at Rocky Inlet. Passing through Minnehaha Valley, we soon enter Cascade Hall and listen a few moments to the melody of the cascades, whose " laughing waters " fall and " break into liquid pearls on the ledges." Pass- ing Wellington's Galleries, we quench our thirst at Dripping Spring, whose water gently trickles from a peculiar stalactite, called, from its shape and appearance, the " Broken Heart." Pass- ing through the Infernal Regions, Pluto's Dome, Old Scratch Hall, ■ Serpent's Hall, Silliman's avenue, and up the rugged Hill of Fa- Echoes from Mammoth Cave. 325 tigue, we welcome a full breath at Nebraska Bend, where many years ago the Nebraska Press Association really assembled. "We go through Railroad Tunnel. Here confronts us the Great East- ern — an enormous stone, the unique resemblance of an ocean steamer. III. We raise our eyes toward the fregcoed ceiling of the justly re- nowned Vale of Flowers. " Cleveland's Cabinet and Marion's ave- nue, each one mile long, are adorned (at intervals) by myriads of gypsum rosettes and curiously twisted crystals." Descriptions of some of these formations have been overdrawn; still, we are charmed by the striking resemblance of these fair, crystalline flow- ers to ttose that bud, bloom, and sweeten the air with their fra- grance. Among these gypsum rosettes we find some resembling mammoth chrysanthemums, large as a dinner plate, while others bear a still closer resemblance to the white lily, with its waxlike petals gracefully curling back from its distinct center of yellow. As; expressed in the Cave Manual: "We wander bewildered under symmetrical arches of fifty feet span, where the fancy is charmed by the natural mimicry of every flower that grows in garden, for- est, or prairie, from the nodding pansy to the flaunting helianthus." Each rosette is made up of countless fibrous crystals, each tiny crystal in itself a study. All is virgin white, except here and there a patch of gray limestone, or a spot bronzed by metallic stain, or as we purposely " vary the lovely monotony " by burning chemical lights (of different colors). We admire the effective grouping done by Nature's skillful fingers. Here is a great Floral Cross (above us), made by a mass of stone rosettes; while floral coro- nets, clusters and wreaths and garlands embellish nearly every foot of the ceiling and walls." The " Last Rose of Summer," de- picted on the ceiling of a large room, is certainly " left blooming alone " (like some of the fair maidens of our party). To different portions of this crystalline conservatory many fanciful names have been given, such as " Flora's Garden," " Mary's Bower," " Vale 326 Hearthstone: Echoes. of Diamonds," "Marble Hall," "Walls of Glory," "Charlotte's Grotto," etc. Diamond Gauze resembles the most intricate gauze drapery bedecked with myriads of diamonds. You can imagine the improvement here made by the magnesia light when you think of its effect on an ordinary tableau. The ceiling almost throughout this delightful vale is much lo\per than in most of the avenues. This seems much more like divine arrangement than a mere " hap- pen so." Think of it — the snow clouds on a ceiling ninety feet high, so distance can lend its enchantment; while these crystalline beauties are so low we can easily observe the intricacy of their formations, combinations, and groupings! It is with effort we keep our covetous fingers from plucking at least a petal from these exquisite formations, but strict restrictions strictly restrict. Too much of this has already been done; but, happily, " the sub- tle forces of nature are at work to mend what man has marred." But what is that? Look! Behold the welcome dinner table! Viands of almost every variety, well cooked, and abundant enough for a party thrice as large — a fair sample of the excellent fare at Mammoth Cave Hotel. "With appetites whetted by vigorous exercise and the bracing cave air," we joyously (by no means silently) gather around the welcome repast, so neatly arranged on a long, high, wooden table by the man who permitted his light to " so shine " for us at Purgatory Landing. Having dined superabundantly, we resume our wanderings. There are gray and white rats and mice in this locality, with large black eyes— not blind. They are supposed to go to the outer world for sustenance; but when our guide was asked what these little animals lived on, he said, " Chestnuts " — that is, jokes furnished hy guides and visitors. He says these jokes are essential to the well-being of the visitors, for " everybody that comes into the cave gets down in the mouth." Here is a mass of large Hanging Rocks, one called "Suicide Rock" (it has hanged itself). Now we enter Fly Chamber, on whose esiling and walls are "myriads of tiny crystals of black gypsum about the size of a house fly." The re- ' semblance is so striking, and the sight so forcibly reminds us of Echoes prom Mammoth Cave. 327 many kitchens and dining rooms we have seen, it is not our pleas- ure to tarry here very long; at least, we will not dine here to-day. Passing several interesting scenes, we gaze a moment at a pecul- iar stalagmite, termed the "Anvil." Its top bears striking resem- blance to a large, brown human face; and the guide positively as- sures us it is the head of a man, not a woman. Being asked why, he replies: "Because the mouth is closed." Even if it were a woman, wonder if he thinks she would keep her mouth open after having served as anvil a term of several centuries. Typical of the "hammering" received by many a woman all her life, this pros- trate figure is being constantly pelted in the face by drops of cold water from a giant stalactite hanging above, as if proud that he has subjugated her and determined to retain his dominion. Who wonders at the poor "creature's" keeping the mouth closed? For a long distance we have been treading the treacherous path- way, Slippery Elm street, forcibly reminding us of the many dan- gerous places in life, where we must take heed lest we fall. Knee- high Canyon, or Shin avenue, is one of those peculiar gorges, or ravines, washed out by the surging waters, then petrified, and is perhaps two hundred yards long, about two feet wide, and just deep enough to assure the pedestrian that its two names are appropri- ate, rendered decidedly more so by the splintery rocks jutting from its upper edges. In treading this " narrow way " we are care- ful not to disfigure these splintery borders. Into the Flue — a small opening in a ledge above us — the guide throws some ignited substance, and the suction is so great we hear the roaring as of the best stove flue. Into a similar opening he throws, diagonally, a light, which seems to be instantly extin- guished. Some one remarks: "The light went out." The guide replies: "No; the light went in." In a moment we see it shining from another window some distance away. Into one of these ad- jacent cavern halls he now tosses a large red light. We watch it a moment, then move on. "Look at that Indian camp fire!" says one of our crowd. We turn and look "away in yonder " and see apparently a large red fire and Mr. Sharp walking leisurely in 328 Hearthstonk Echoes. front of it, seemingly as unconcerned and contented as if he liad decided to go into winter quarters there. Through which little window he crept, in leaving or returning to the rest of our party, I am not able to say. Rainbow Walls are striped with different colors, according to the strata, but indistinct. The guide courteously announces, " If any of you desire to go driving, here are some nails," pointing to about a pound of real " eight pennies " lying on a rock. The Tramp's Retreat — a dismal offset in the cave — is pointed out to us; but although we are now an acknowledged set of " tramps," we care not to retreat thither. Look at that large oval pebble, fifteen or twenty feet long, called the "Egg" (Roc's Egg). Near it is the Table — a huge, flat stone — on which the guide says we may serve the Egg. Leaving the wild, rugged pass of El Ghor, we ascend a long stone stairway our leader calls "Jacob's Ladder," pointing to the " angels " ascending it. Here we enter one of the cave's chief wonders — Mary's Vineyard (sometimes called "Martha's Vine- yard"). A strange stalactite, three inches in diameter, called the " Grapevine," winds from floor to ceiling. "Around it are countless nodules of calcium carbonate coated with black oxide of iron, which simulate clusters on clusters of luscious grapes (both as to size and colors), gleaming with varied tints through the dripping dew. No covetous hand is permitted to pluck this subterranean vintage." (Manual.) (But we "do not like sour grapes," you know.) Of the "wine" (pure water) flowing abundantly from that wall of grapes into a large beer keg and into a pool below the wall v»-e are kindly invited to partake " without money and without price." We do so, and all become intoxicated — not with the juice of the grape, however, but with the grandeur of the scenery. A natural-looking olive and slice of lemon are imbedded among the grapes, while the water from above constantly trickles over them, keeping all the crystal fruit looking perfectly fresh and glossy. EcHoi;s FROM Mammoth Cavb. 329 IV. We next enter Washington's Hall— a somewhat circular room one hundred feet in its greatest diameter. Here we are reminded more forcibly than ever that we are treading the path of the na- tions; for here are so manj' monuments of loose stones in honor of different cities. States, and nations, built by representatives from each. Here we erect one in honor of Georgie Robertson Christian College, have the name cut on stone, and place on the monument a catalogue of the institution. The beautiful Snowball Room next gives us a grand reception. In the language of the Manual: "Its ceiling is thickly dotted with hemispherical masses of snowy gypsum, each being from two to ten inches in diameter. The effect is as if a crowd of merry schoolboys had flung a thou- sand snowballs against the ceiling, which stuck there as mementos of their sport." The grandeur is superb when illuminated with magnesium. Next, Vibration Hall, over Marion's avenue. The wonderful vibrations are like the roaring of a train or the low, sad murmur of wailing winds. The Strawberry Bed (with its stone fruit), the Ghost, the Prohibition Platform, St. Cecilia's Grotto, the Crucifix, Gumdrop Ceiling, the Mandolin, Popcorn Ceil- ing, Trilby's Foot, etc., we must pass without comment, and linger but a moment at the Dental Office, whose ceiling looks like a mass of extracted teeth. Thousands of names are throughout the cave — some, carved with knives or stones; others, smoked on the ceiling in " ye olden times " of tallow candles. Suddenly leaving this " matchless fairyland," we find ourselves wearily toiling up the rugged steeps of Rocky Mountain, anxiously wondering how far to the top. We must walk over rocky frag- ments tossed in wildest confusion, impeding the progress of us, weary, but determined, pedestrians. On and on, upward and on- ward, higher and higher, and still higher, puffing and blowing, pulses beating faster, faces growing redder — "How far to the top? " On we go over multiplied thousands of loose rocks, carefully avoid- ing the deep gorges under and beside us. Here is a place steeper, still steeper. Up we go by the friendly aid of our guide. Now! 330 Hearthstone Echoes. The summit is reached. Let us breathe. Ample breathing room is afforded us in this hall of incredible dimensions — Call's Ro- tunda — as large as a good-sized yard. This is said to be not very- far from the earth's surface, as verified by large blocks of sand- stone, also by the fact that the rumbling of the railroad train overhead is sometimes audible. Down Dismal Hollow we gaze and throw stones, but do not venture. It looks like it might be "haunted." Cleopatra's Needle is a very peculiar stalagmite, translucent, and pointed at the top. Here is the Maelstrom — a monstrous pit into which the guide permits us, only one at a time, to gaze a moment, while he cautiously holds our hand. We are in Croghan's Hall — a very long room sixty feet wide and thirty-five high, with beautiful Starfish center overhead. This is regarded as the terminus of Mammoth Cave. Here we drink from the beau- tiful spring whose waters are gently handed down from a cluster of large stalactites, one of which is called the " Blarney Stone." This we modestly kiss, as have thousands of lips before our own — not that we expect thereby to receive the mythological blessing, but simply for the novelty of the custom. (Be it remembered, please, that each one's lip stains are washed away by the constant flow of water from above.) We have been buried from daylight five and a half hours, and have walked nine miles. Now we start back to where the grass waves near the nodding ferns and the bird sings sweetly to its mate. Our guide says he "can't tell jokes backward;" so we lose no time until we are kindly led into Nelson's Discovery. This diamond conservatory you can appreciate only by igniting one of those splendid lights and looking above you. See the massive roof teetotally covered with sparkling jewels, in places resembling masses of gold dust; in others, looking as if thickly sprinkled with small, glittering diamonds! We fail to visit that noted "realm of empty dark- ness," the Mammoth Dome, which is said to be " as wonderful a place as any in this region of silence and eternal night." Accord- , ing to the Manual, the ordinary lights of lard oil or miner's oil suspended from one of the ledges reveal " neither floor, wall, nor Echoes from Mammoth Cave;. 331 roof of that solemn domain," whose dimensions are estimated by aid of chemical lights to be " about four hundred feet in length, one hundred and fifty in greatest width, and varying from eighty to one hundred and fifty feet, and more, in height," containing a " tumbling cataract higher than Niagara, though of slender size." The walls appear to be curtained by alabaster drapery, hanging in vertical folds that vary in size from a pipestem to a saw log; and these folds are decorated by heavy fringes at intervals of about twenty feet. Six massive " colossal columns, eighty feet high by twenty-five in diameter, stand in a semicircle, flanked by pyramidal towers." These form part of the Egyptian Temple, From Bandit Hall we wind and scramble our way up and among Kentucky Cliffs via the renowned, the notorious Corkscrew, the exit from River Hall (thanks to the ingenious hands that have constructed wooden ladders leading up the steepest parts). Some of the very slender ones of our party furnish amusement for the rest by squeezing themselves through a very small and somewhat circular window or opening — " gap in the wall " of this monstros- ity. It is with considerable effort on the part of themselves and guide — puffing and blowing, inching one side at a time. We laugh till we cry at the ludicrous scene. One of our number, being some- what long as well as slender and " Sharp," in winding among the various turns and crevices of the Corkscrew, says he has met him- self a time or two; but, not recognizing himself, thought he had met another man. Down the rugged, rocky slopes we wend our way, and scarcely stop any more until we pass through the Iron Gate to the entrance. Here (8 P.M.) we find that Phoebus, as if weary awaiting our return, has departed, leaving our good-night kiss to be delivered by the twilight breezes. Up the hill to the hotel, where we hurriedly bathe our faces, then are invited in our cave suits to the welcome dining room, of whose rare treasures we gladly partake. Erelong we are in our rooms in the third story, embraced in the loving arms of Morpheus, preparatory to our me- anderings along the Short Route to-morrow. Until then, good night. 332 HlRARTHSTONS ECHOES. SHOKT ROUTE. Having our bodies refreshed by "nature's sweet restorer," we break our fast and start on our second day's ramble. At the cave's yawning mouth we again for a moment watch and admire the crystal water as it " trickles down with perpetual music " from the midarch, forty feet above, " sounding again and again in mimic echoes from the walls and roof around," then creeping from our sight through crevices in the floor to join some underground companion stream. Obeying the summons of our guide, we again enter the dark recesses of this tremendous cavern, and for some distance retrace the same Narrows, with. their rude walls of loose rocks compactly piled by the saltpeter miners of 1812 — relics of that deadly combat. In the Rotunda and other open spaces are still to be seen remains of leaching vats and wooden pipes in excellent state of preservation, the same that were used in partially preparing vast quantities of gunpowder used in Ihe War of 1812. A few ox tracks, now hardened into a kind of stone, still clearly show the shape of the cloven hoof. It is fortu- nate that oxen used by the miners did not have to go as far as Shin avenue and Fat Man's Misery. They did not care for Gre- cian Bend avenue — did not seriously object to stooping. We enter Bat avenue, where in fall and winter the walls are blackened by thousands of bats clinging together, like swarms of bees, and sometimes suspended in great " clumps " from the ceil- ing. It is stated that at a single catch one night, during one of their winter sleeps. Professor Call captured six hundred and sev- enty bats, most of which were carried to the National Museum. Passing the Pigeon Boxes, we enter the Church (about eighty feet in diameter by forty feet high), with its natural pulpit or gallery (a ledge of rocks about twenty-five feet high). Preachers of renown have here talked of the Savior, and large audiences have filled these mystic walls with songs of praise. Near this is a real ' Christmas tree, placed here in 1883, and on it still hang many Echoe;s from Mammoth Cave. 333 cards and labels. Passing many places of interest, we stop and gaze in wonder on a number of gigantic stalactite-stalagmite un- ions, such as Post Oak Pillar, Elephants' Heads (with their "trunks checked," as the guide says), the Old Armchair, Pompey and Caesar, and the Pillars of Hercules. The latter is a great matted series of columns, whose object seems to be to support the world of rock above. All these aged sentinels appear to be keep- ing a sharp lookout for the proceedings of their near neighbor, the Bridal Altar. They have already witnessed a dozen real weddings under this triune arch, beginning with the one in which the young lady had promised her mother she would " never marry a man on the face of the earth." She was faithful to her promise. The guide soon points to splendid representations of hornets' nests an the wall, and says: "Hornets' Nests — next thing after Bridal Altar!" Pointing to the Old Armchair, he asks us the name of the junction of the stalactite and stalagmite. We know not; so he tells us: "Mighty Tight." Here is the long, slender, hazardous- looking projection called the " Lover's Leap " — doubtless his last leap. ("Wonder if the Bridal Altar suggested the name.) Suf- fice it to say, it is on the brow of the Hill of Difficulty; and the leap, if made, is almost sure to prove fatal. Lover, beware! Look before you leap! You had better first throw on the light, then look downward, still downward, and behold that " wild and tu- multuously grouped mass of rocks " in that dismal abyss, which is the landing of a " leap in the dark." I repeat the warning: Count the cost; look before you leap! Here is Elbow Crevice — a long, narrow opening in " the face of the solid rock." Through it we wend our way, single file, probably a hundred yards, all the while careful not to mar with our elbows the stone walls, which are " wrinkled and folded in many fantastic ways by the waters which have long since ceased to flow here." We carefully peep into Rebekah's Well; then over the ragged edge into Joseph's Pit; then up into Napoleon's Dome, under which is the Dining Table — a huge block of limestone detached from the ceiling above. We pass many novelties, and at Annette's Dome our ears are greeted 334 Hearthstonk Echoes. by the incessant song of a little waterfall, leaping from a precipice of almost seventy feet to reinforce the waters of Lee's Cistern. "We pass through the Ballroom, then see a stone resembling a woman's profile. The artist has been severely criticised for de- parting from nature — Tier mouth is closed. So here is another instance in which woman can " keep her mouth shut," even if man does have to go two or three hundred feet underground to find such a genial companion. He should never regret his efforts, if he at last succeeds in getting the one he wants. Young man, if you want a companion who will permit you to always have your own way and will not " jaw back," come to Mammoth Cave. How- ever, you may expect her to keep a " cold shoulder " turned toward you; to be very dark; to be a deaf mute, blind, and with a heart of stone. Here are the Standing Rocks, which the guide says are like certain persons — "stuck up." Listen! The regular ticking of an underground timekeeper, the Water Clock — a minute water- fall somewhere hidden behind the rocks, where, drop by drop, the seconds are counted to us — one hundred and six to the minute. (You see? Where woman keeps her mouth closed it seems that even time can run faster.) VI. Some of these avenues wind around, forming peculiar turns and angles. In this unique arrangement is found the noted statue of Martha Washington, a marvelous illusion bearing a striking re- semblance to a life-sized plaster of Paris statue (profile) of that distinguished lady mounted on high pedestal. To our right is the Giant's Coffin — a monster rock detached from the wall and very much the shape of a burial casket. Length, forty-five feet; width, from twelve to fifteen feet; height, eighteen feet; estimated weight, more than two thousand tons. Now we pass the Acute Angle, where this long avenue turns so suddenly as to make an angle of only about sixty degrees — a wonderful turn for a sweeping river, especially underground. We enter the two r stone cottages, roofless, built of smooth, square stones neatly laid ECHOKS FROM MAMMOTH CaVE). 335 in cement, where for a while some consumptives dwelt, hoping thus to effect a cure, but only hastening their death. Now we are to behold the crowning glory of to-day's walk — the celebrated Star Chamber. Seated on a long bench, we quietly rest, while the guide prepares for the tableau. Witli our lights he slowly disappears into a side avenue, leaving a kind of twilight to gently creep over us. Darker and darker it grows. But look! Yonder is a star in the distant sky; another, and another; now there are many. Look! The miniature firmament is studded with these glittering jewels. And yonder is a comet, the first we have seen for years. Look how it stretches halfway across that wondrous streak of sparkling diamonds, the Milky Way, which now is clearly seen in the dim distance! O, what a dark cloud is rising! Faster and faster it approaches (but our roof does not leak, and we are not afraid) ; darker and darker it grows. Now the entire face of the miniature sky is covered. 0, the blackness of the impenetrable gloom when every vestige of light is taken from us! How cold we are becoming! Our feet and hands almost ache; our bodies are becoming chilled. Surely this is akin to the Egyptian darkness that could be felt. But no tempest assails us. This apparent storm cloud is passing around. A star is peeping through the rifted cloud. It is followed by another, and still an- other. The gateway of glory has again swung back on its hinges, and the star-spangled vault is again gleaming above. What time is it? The watches of the pedestrians are with the hotel clerk; the guide is gone with his; and the Water Clock we have left far hehind us. How can we know the time? Listen! The chicken, that faithful monitor, tells us it is almost day. Another replies: "Yes, nearly day." Look eastward! A gray streak near the ho- rizon! It slowly grows wider and becomes lighter. The chickens reassure us day is dawning. The little calf has aroused from its slumber, feels lonely, and calls its "ma;" and, motherlike, she re- plies: "Ma!" The little house dog is trying to arouse the neigh- bors, but becomes too oflficious, receives a blow from his master's rod, and goes off howling and yelling. The chickens still remind 336 Hearthstonk Echoes. us day is at hand. It is growing lighter and lighter. Yonder we see the rising sun. Onward he marches, and at his approach the stars and comet withdraw their light and permit his brighter beams to reign supreme. With thanks to our mimic guide and with hearts filled with deeper gratitude to the omnipotent Giver of all these wonders, we turn back from this end of the Main Cave, more fully realizing how little we know. If there is such grandeur in this illusion, what of the grandeur of the real glory of earth and heaven! VII. Reluctantly leaving the enchanting Star Chamber, with its sparkling vault three himdred feet long and eighty high, we retrace .our way to the Giant's Coffin; then through another avenue to the Wooden Bowl Room; thence down a rude stone stairway called the " Steeps of Time." Here the railing and some of the rocks are all the year covered with a snow-white fungus growth, whose dense patches of long fibers look very much like the whitest cotton or wool. These shreds are said to be sometimes a foot or more in length, and they certainly give to the Steeps of Time the appear- ance of antiquity. At the bottom of this rustic stairway, entering Owl Hall, we are confronted by the rude representation in stone of a small owl quietly perched upon a high ledge. Though he seems to be sole proprietor of the establishment, and though his visitors are all perfect strangers to him, he modestly refrains from asking us that impertinent "owl" question: "Who — who — ^who — who are you?" The guide eulogizes him, saying: "He is little, but owl right." Beneath is a beautiful spring, and the guide claims to^ be able to tell exactly how much water it affords every week — just to a quart. A surprised listener asks: "How much?" He re- plies: "Two pints." The Lover's Retreat consists of two long, narrow, parallel ave- nues, at right angles with the ones we are traveling, and looming off in the dim distance we know not whither. Soon we reach what is called the " Devil's Kitchen." When asked if His Satanic EcHOBS FROM Mammoth Cave. 337 Majesty is a good cook, the guide replies: " I suppose so, from hfs large number of boarders." In our rambles through this wonder world we see various gro- tesque resemblances on walls and ceilings— some, in the peculiar shapes of the rocks; others, only in outlines— Fat Girl, Hen and Chickens (small chick perched on its mother's back), Giant and Giantess Tossing the Baby, the Couple Dancing the " Two-step " (while Jealousy stands aghast with back turned, as if in disgust) , large Stone Face, the Moon, and many, many others. As to the representation of special figures and flowers, sometimes the re- semblance is very strikingj but at other times vivid powers of imagination must be employed — something lake tracing outlines .in burning coals or in clouds. "We are now down in the very " Re- gion of Pits and Domes; " and since there Is much similarity in their structure and appearance, I will make only a general allu- sion to a few of the most noted, such as Minerva's Dome, Side- saddle Pit, Washington's Pit and Dome, and the so-called " Bottom- less Pit," which has been measured at last and found to be one hundred and thirty-five feet deep; while Shelby Dome, just over it, is one hundred and forty-five feet high, making a pit, or dome, of almost three hundred feet. Over the Bottomless Pit is a sub- stantial wooden bridge, called the " Bridge of Sighs." It contains no hidden trapdoor, as did the Oriental one; but while passing over we could scarcely keep from quivering to think of the possi- bility of such. These are " vertical shafts that pierce through all levels, from the uppermost galleries, or even from the sink holes, down to the lowest floor," and are called " pits " or " domes," ac- cording to the position occupied by the observer. They seem to widen at the bottom and taper off into a conical top, "like the steeples of some majestic temple of silence and night." Their "jagged walls are fluted and folded in ways indescribable." As sanctioned by the Manual, every indication is that this is the bed of a subterranean stream or system of rivers, a system of caverns having become one intricate labyrinth. The appearance is that the mighty billows have carved the granite into natural tunnels, spouting horns, fantastic arches, grottoes, and chasms, its roof 338 Hearthstone Echoes. being "decorated here a:nd there by numerous stalactites;" its " walls, fluted and carved, as if by some gigantic graving tool." Time forbids that we linger. Onward we move, with rapid pace, back toward the entrance, the guide not even stopping to tell many of his pleasing jokes. Soon we are in the open air again, trying to become accustomed to the sultry breezes before walking up the hill. We are taking a long, last, lingering look; for we must now bid adieu to Niagara's great rival. Mammoth Cave, whose marvelous grandeur we can never comprehend. Long in our mem- ories will linger its rocky galleries and arched valleys; its knobs, sinks, and pyramidal peaks; its Grand Crossing; its miniature Niagaras, with their splash of silvery waters; its limpid pools that have secret connection with Green River. It would be a cold, thoughtless heart that could ponder the al- most inconceivable immensity of this underground structure and not be more thoroughly convinced of the power of Him who alone could stay those massive walls under such wonderful pressure. LESSONS. Having completed our meanderings through this wonderland, we naturally begin to notice the many similarities between this and the Christian's earth life. 1, In both we must have light. "Without it we can neither ap- preciate the grandeur nor avoid the pitfalls along our way. In both instances we must leave the light of the world and be guided by the light especially prepared for us — a light that has been thor- oughly tested, proved to be true and steadfast; one that will endure throughout the journey. 2. In both we should have a guide. He should carry a safe light, should walk in that light himself, and should be acquainted with the way. A blind guide — one who has no light or who will not himself walk therein — is not capacitated to lead others. There are many " false Christs," or " blind guides;" and " where the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch." We should not only have a guide, but should strictly follow him. A few weeks since. ECHOKS FROM MAMMOTH CAVE. 339 two boys from Florence, Ala., tried going through a cave without a guide, and were lost for two days, to the great horror of them- selves and their parents. Many leave the great Source of heavenly light and forsake the appointed guide, trusting to themselves to find a better or an easier way. Such persons are merely groping their way in darkness, liable any moment to be engulfed in the pit of destruction. There are dangers above, beneath, and on either side. We must watch every way. 3. " The majority of persons never start through Mammoth Cave, and some who start become timid and turn back." (Manual, page 18.) Likewise, the majority never start on the Christian pil- grimage; and many who start have not the moral courage to keep on, but turn back to the world. 4. In Mammoth Cave we pass through a number of low, narrow avenues. In that tortuous channel called " Fat Man's Misery " " the walls, only eighteen inches apart, change direction eight times within eighty yards, while the distance from the sandy path to the ledge overhead averages but five feet. The rocky sides are marked with waves and ripples, as if running water had been sud- denly petrified." In life we come to many low, narrow places,, where we must not exalt ourselves too high nor " spread ourselves " too wide, but must lay aside many of our opinions, plans, and pur- poses. 5. "We see many high places we cannot reach or comprehend.. These, also, should teach us humility. We must not be self-right- eous — be not wise in our own conceits. Many of God's ways and works are beyond our comprehension, for even the " angels desire to look into " them. 6. While watching and admiring the grandeur overhead, we must look well to where we plant our feet. In the cave we find some treacherous rocks, as experience thoroughly convinced us; in life we often think we are stepping on safe ground, when — lo! — It proves to be a treacherous rock or a bed of quicksand. Let us examine a platform before we trust our souls thereon. 7. Concerning both these journeys the various stories " must 340 Hearthstone Echoes, be sifted with greatest care," for both are often grossly misrepre- sented. However, the merits of both can be tested; and the stronger and brighter the search light and the more critical the search, the more beauties are discerned. 8. The cave has its vast Rotundas, its Mammoth Dome, and even its Chief City — that marvelous expanse, that " largest sub- terranean temple in the world," with areal dimensions of two acres, enchanted by utter solitude — the Chief City, whose solid, seamless arch of limestone, as one great, overshadowing canopy, has withstood the shock of thousands of years. Often in life's wanderings we see a vast rotunda or some other vacant hall, as it were, looming dimly before us in the gathering gloom. We know not what to do nor what is there in store for us. for all is dark- ness. But look! Our kind Guide steps steadily forward with the light of truth, whose rays penetrate the somber shadows and shed a glorious halo on the beauties before buried in gloom. Indeed, this world is one vast rotunda, whose spiritual gloom is horrible until penetrated and banished by the light of God's truth and love. Wherever it shines the beauty and grandeur of his handiwork are revealed. 9. The old mushroom beds in Audubon avenue are standing me- mentos of man's mistake in trying to cultivate this fungus growth in one of the driest parts of the care. In religious matters many and far more serious mistakes are made, (And — lo! — "their works do follow them.") 10. Eyeless fish, crickets, spiders, etc. — nothing made without a purpose. No use for eyes in an abode of perpetual darkness. Actually, a number of blind visitors have gone through this cave. Surely they had queer curiosity. (Wonder if any of them were •women.) Some church members seem blind to duty — to church work of every kind, even to the Sunday school lesson. 11. Cave fish, etc. — ^not only blind, but white, because secluded from light. Many so-called "Christians" are not only blind to ;their own interests, but are also pale and sickly, because they keep themselves from God's light. They are feeble — have no Echoes from Mammoth Cave. 341 strength, cannot endure light. Turn on the search light of God's word, and their theories wither away. 32. Echo River. We should be careful as to what we say, for it may be often repeated. If good, all is well; but if bad, ! 13. The cave, though silent, is furnished with sweetest music — vibrations and pattering waterfalls. Often the most quiet Chris- tian life has the best influence and is echoed far and near. 14. The cool, bracing cave atmosphere is of great advantage in traveling; so are the appropriate costumes. Throughout the Christian's journey he should " keep cool " — be deliberate and con- siderate; otherwise his enemy has the advantage. He should aiso be arrayed in garments of humility and obedience — should keep on the robe of righteousness. 15. Mental stimulus shortens the way and lessens fatigue in Mammoth Cave. Life's burdens and sorrows are lessened by look- ing for the flowers instead of the thorns along our way — ^by fully- appreciating our favorable environments. 16. The Snow Clouds in the cave are ninety feet high, while the beautiful frescoed arches are low enough for us to examine their structure. Thus nature is suited to our convenience; and to the thinking, appreciative mind God's arrangements are sublime. 17. In the cave sometimes our lamps almost go out, and we are forcibly reminded of the "foolish virgins;" but our guide trims the wicks, and all is well. The Christian's light sometimes needs trimming, without which it would go out. 18. In Mammoth Cave we pass through Slippery Elm street; in the church "let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." 19. In Mammoth Cave we find immense blocks of fallen lime- stone, detached from the ceiling overhead. Stones in God's spirit- ual temple sometimes actually loose their hold on the flrm struc- ture of Christianity and fall, and great is their fall. 20. As if guarding the dangerous entrance to Olive's Bower stands the Sentinel, that grand old stalactite that after centuries of slow, but constant, growth has met his companion stalagmite. 342 Hearthstone; Echobs. and boldly, firmly " stands like another Atlas to hold in place the •world of rock above." The aged Christian stands as a noble sen- tinel, tenderly guarding the wayward and boldly supporting the right. In after life, as we think of this wonderful cavern, with its quiet, mystic walls, fluted by deep furrows; as, in memory, we catch the sound of its falling waters, and even hear the steady, gentle ticking of its Water Clock; as we hear the enchanting vibrations of its Echo River; as we promenade its spacious "halls canopied by fleecy clouds or studded with mimic snowballs;" as we gaze with wonder on its starry vault and watch the little eyes of heaven blinking in beauty, we trust the spirit of love and grati- tude may be ours. May we more fully than ever realize our own inability and our dependence upon the One whose strong arm alone can uphold the ponderous walls of Mammoth Cave. Mrs. John H. Meeks. What is Home; Without a Mother?" 343 HOME CORNER. [What follows may appear to the casual reader too personal; but, as you see, I have placed it last; so, without trouble, you can exercise your pleasure as to the reading — may read or omit. How- ever, it occurs to me that " Hearthstone Echoes " would scarcely be complete without a few faint echoes from our own fireside— with- out some expression of the heart's impulses in its calmest, serenest moments, also when under the severe pressure while passing through the sore trials of life and carrying its heavy burdens. The arrangement of the " Home Corner," like that of the body of the book, is by no means chronological. Some of the pictures are not of recent date. That of Gen. John H. Meeks represents him at the age of fifty-six; Mrs. John H. Meeks, seventy-two; "Grandmamma," seventy-eight. — Author.] "WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT A MOTHER?^ That " death loves a shining mark " seemed strikingly shown when the home of Gen. John H. Meeks Avas deprived of its noble queen. June 24, 1820; June 20, 1896 — these dates mark the limits of her earthly career, but not of her benign influence. Our memories will ever revert to the latter date as one of our saddest days ; for on that morn, as the sun began to scat' ter his golden rays around us, there was a sunsef in our midst ; the sun of our dear mother's existence was steadily sinking behind the waves and ripples of life's sea, to rise in splendor on the glory shore. Truly, hers was a life of sun- shine, spent casting golden beams into the lives of others. She was the leader of a large, influential family into the 344 Hearthstone Echoes. good Shepherd's fold^ where she continued in cheerful obe- dience until lovingly invited to her reward. Mother was not so much a woman of words as of deeds; and one of her charming characteristics was the quiet influ- ence of her noble life. Wintry winds may strive to dislodge the avalanche, and fail ; but gentle sunbeams will gradually melt the snows and cause them to forsake the mountain side. So her influence, like warming beams, had a melting, sooth- ing effect on hearts made cold and hardened by the storms of time. Her friends were many and sincere, their num- ber being limited only by the extent of her acquaintance. Keither did her acquaintances wait until she was dead to speak her praises. She was genial, kind, affectionate; the life of the family and the regulating wheel in the social cir- cle ; always found at the post of duty ; self-sacrificing, wast- ing her life for her friends, seeming to have no greater pleas- ure than trying to lift the burden and brighten the lives of others. Wars might come, storms might rage, friends for- sake and foes oppress ; but she was the same faithful, hum- ble, loving, self-sacrificing mother, wife, neighbor, friend. Much of her time was spent in denying herseK and blessing others. She would stint herself any time rather than neg- lect any one else, her thoughtfulness of others and forget- fulness of self being part of her very nature. She was indeed a true heroine. Many a woman has as such been made prominent in history, at the same time far less worthy of the honor. Her untiring devotion for her children was proverbial, "What is Hom^ Without a Mother?" 345 and in them she seemed to find no fault. Without lecture or rebuke, she controlled them in a quiet, modest way that won their confidence and esteem and made them shrink from, the idea of displeasing " mother." (By this sweet name all her children called her^ and it was the appropriate in- scription on her coffin lid.) This devotion for her own chil- dren and for those of us whom " the powers that be " kindly permitted to become hers was sweetly and charmingly recip- rocated by each, and could not have been otherwise, except by a heart grown, cold. JSToted for economy, skillful man- agement, benevolence, and charity, her life, as it advan<3ed, grew gradually more sublime, the magnitude of her worth not being fully realized until she had passed life's meridian. Her industry and frugality were largely the cause of her husband's success in life, as was for many years freely ad- mitted by himself. For more than fifty-five years she was his dear, devoted companion ; and now he solemnly realizes the meaning of the word " bereft." While in quiet sleep she was calmly breathing her last, he, with trembling voice and breaking heart, very touchingly said: "There lies the darling of my youth — 'Ellie' that sweetest name ever called. As she passes away, life to me loses its charm/' Yes, dear father, there will ever be a sad vacuum in your heart this world can never fill ; and you would not have it filled, for you want to reserve it for her memory. The treas- ured home will be brooded over by a spirit of melancholy, but you have the comforting recollection that you have ever been a true and faithful companion ; that she was never once 346 Heiarthstons Echoes. neglected or illy provided for. Late in the afternoon before her sweet spirit left ns, the fingers of nature painted a beau- tiful rainbow on the heavy, dark cloud in the east, which then suggested to me the following analogy, now so appar- ent : From you the sunshine of her presence is withdrawa, but from the dismal cloud overshadowing your bereaved heart there is reflected a beautiful rainbow promise. Try not to gaze too much on the dark background, but spend more time tracing out the beautiful rainbow tints. " When the roll is called up yonder " at the reunion of Christian sol- diers, we believe that to the names "John H. and Ellie Meeks " you and dear, sweet mother will be ready to re- spond: "We are here/' We are thankful God did not bid us, " Weep not " (there is relief in tears), but lovingly said : " Weep not as others which have no hope." While of the eight noble children with whom you and mother were blessed, four preceded her to the other shore, four are yet spared to love and try to cheer you as you sadly steer your lonely bark. To jou the remnant of the voyage will be cloudy and drear, and you will feel your task a hard one without that patient hand that, with divine aid, so long and so faithfully guided one of the oars; but when the gloomy mist grows too thick for you to penetrate, you will raise your eyes by faith and resignation and look across to the bright beyond. As the sun, after lending his golden beams to our hem- isphere as long as expedient, at last withdraws them so gently we can scarcely know the moment of their exit, so Gen. John H. Meeks. "Our Fathb;r." 347 was the closing of that precious life. As a glorious, golden daj, her life smiled away many of the clouds that otherwise would have been almost impenetrable. Even when over- powered by heartaches, she would try to drive clouds from the hearts of others. She always had consoling words for those in trouble. After the sinking sun passes from sight, it is reflected back, and a long, sweet twilight ensues. Though the sun of her existence has passed behind the bil- lows, there is still a beautiful twilight gladdening our hearts — the sweet memory of her noble life. ''OUR FATHER.'' " Gathering homeward one by one." The sad message reached us that father was dead. We hastened to the loved old home. They had carried him into the parlor ; and that dear, familiar form appeared as if only enjoying sweetest slumber — eyes and lips closed naturally, hair combed in its usual way — he looked so natural. His death had come unheralded, his sickness having lasted only twenty-two hours. He was in his eighty-fourth year when the reaper carried away the golden sheaf — a ripened sheaf — full of precious grain for the heavenly garner. Thus an^ other beautiful life was ended, and the community was caused to mourn the loss of one of its oldest and best citi- zens. When we gazed on his noble face — so calm, so bright, even in death — we esteemed more highly than ever before the character he had always sustained: that of a strictly 348 H:^ARTHSTONK Echoes. moral, upright man, whose integTitj was never questioned, and whose practical, good sense manifested itself to all who observed his wavs. He was emphatically a home-loving man. His social life was also embellished bj many noble characteristics, among which stood prominent his generosity and sympathy. Surely many of the poor should " rise up and call him blessed." It was a touching scene at Clear Creek Church the day of his burial — mothers lifting their little children in their arms so they could look into the cof- fin, look the last time upon the lifeless, but cherished, form and placid features of him who had been their friend and benefactor in time of need ; mothers, widows, some of whom had for years depended largely upon him for sustenance. The immense audience mournfully, but sweetly, sung " Some Sweet Bay," then " God Be With You," while sadly passing around and taking the final look at his face. No wonder on that occasion so many cheeks, besides those of his kindred, were bathed in tears ; for many considered, as they said, that " the poor man's friend was gone." For more than thirty years he had f aitlifuUy filled the office of elder in the Clear Creek congregation- He was regarded as a Christian everywhere — in business, in the family circle, in everything ; was held in high esteem by all who knew him ; was kind and charitable to all, honored as a friend, trusted and respected as a citizen. For two years he had survived the darling of his heart — his amiable wife, whom he adored. No wonder he felt as if life had lost its charm. For more than half a century "Our Father." 349 mother had gladdened his life and home; and a gentler, nobler, sweeter spirit none ever knew. She was a woman of intrinsic worth— a woman of gTeat nobility of character. Tenderly devoted to her home and family, she gave herself most affectionately to the sacred relations belonging thereto. Her energy and industry knew no bounds, except feeble- ness of health. She was quiet and unassuming, but faith- ful to her trust. Dear, heart-crushed father endured his sad trial more bravely than we expected, though he pined her absence — poor man !— like a moaning dove bereft of its mate. Ever afterwards, although often he could not speak her cherished name without a quivering chin and many times would weep bitterly, although even at the lonely mid- night hour he was often heard weeping or mournfully sigh- ing- and speaking that loved name, " EUie," he tried hard to be submissive as possible and to carry his heart burden without grieving others therewith. Though in deep sorrow all the while, his sentiments seemed to be : " The night is long, but the day will break When the light of eternity, streaming down On the cross we bear for the Master's sake, Will guide our steps to the promised crown. A little while, and the gate is passed — Home and heaven and rest at last." Surely for this noble Christian pair there is a place in that many-mansioned city. The death of each spread a shade of gloom over the entire community. In their death many lost good friends ; no one lost an enemy. Especially 350 HEAR'rHSTON]^ Echoes. at their home fireside and in the church we look with sad- ness on their vacant seats. But they have left as a rich leg- acy a good name, a noble example, a record that will only brighten by investigation — a spotless character which pen need not praise, for it is well founded in hearts and lives left behind. Theirs were beautiful and well-rounded lives — sheaves ripe and ready for the harvest. They passed the last ordeal supported by that beautiful faith which marked their course on earth and sustained them in all their trials and sorrows. Hope grew stronger and faith brighter as the time of departure drew near, for " life's evening usually takes its character from the day which has preceded it." Sweet memories of these dear old people (my.fondly-loved father-in-law and mother-in-law) will ever linger about my heart; and I am thankful for my association with them, for I feel sure I have been made happier and better thereby. Their influence will long live to brighten and to bless. OUR OWN HRESIDR FIFTY YEARS AGO. Just fifty years ago ! The aged winter king, the blush- ing spring maiden, and the fruit-laden summer had com- pleted their work and had quietly taken their exit, Sep- tember, as a kingly sentinel, then stood between the seasons, with one hand outstretched toward the blazing summer, the other pointing to winter's snows. R. P. Mee;ks. Fifty Years Ago. 35 i Just fifty years ago ! Nature was preparing her rich robe of yellow and scarlet, with a background of tinted green; her downy sycamore, her black gum, her poplar, her sugar tree, her sumac, her golden-rod — her wealth of yellow and bown and red enchanted by the mellow September sun. Long rows of corn were waving in the sunshine and whis- pering secrets to the breezes, while leaves of the locust and walnut hung lazily from the boughs, "And close at hand the basket stood For nuts from brown October's wood." Just fifty years ago, in golden September, Eufus P. Meeks was born. Seventeen years and one month later he was " born again " — born into the great spiritual family. A little past high noon on a September day — ^the day his years numbered twenty-four — he imited his large heart of love with the one he had chosen to share with him life's bittersweet ; on another September (two years later) to him was first applied the then strange-sounding appellation, " papa." Years speed away. Each revolution of the hands on the clock of life marks his age higher, higher, still higher, until to-day it has reached the capital " L." The sun of his ex- istence has reached its zenith. He stands upon Zion's walls with the sword of the Spirit, and with one hand points back to a life spent in God's service, while the other is pointing upward toward the crown. From the summit of life's hill he looks back through the long avenue of five decades, takes due cognizance of the many blessings along the way, now and 352 Hearthstone Echoes. then discerning a somber cloud obscuring them, but keeps looking until he sees the silvery lining. Then he turns, looks down the slope on the other side, sees shadows and sun- shine, joys and tears. Quickly raising his eyes, he looks farther, still farther, l^ow he sees beyond the river the city of life, the golden gate, the victor's crown, the heavenly home — the reward of the faithful. Fifty years ago, a babe in the cradle; to-day, a tried and trusty soldier of the cross, never, even once, having broken ranks or fallen out of line. Time's rushing charioteer will speed the day when he will realize he is steadily descending the slopes of life toward vast eternity, though I trust many more years may be added to his earth life, rich with the wealth of the Father's love. His pilgrimage will doubtless be checkered with many reverses. I plead with the flitting moments to deal as gently with him as he has dealt with his family and his fellow-men. May he continue to " scatter smiles and sunshine all along the way " of others and gild his own pathway with cheerfulness, remembering that " to a good man the best things are always ahead," and that " the highest rate of interest we pay is on, borrowed trouble." Upon the many failings of his own loved ones let him look — not with malice or impatience, but vdth pity, and thus admonish them in gentleness and affection. If at any time assailed by the tempter, may he conquer by a skillful use of the Spirit's sword. Walking in the light reflected from God's faithful mirror, he may, with tongue and pen and Example, continue to check the sinner in his wild and reck- Birthday Meditations. 353 less career bj plainly, peacefully, patiently, persistently, and prayerfully presenting the golden gleams of gospel truth — the message of " peace on earth, good will toward men." May he remain steadfast at the feet of Jesus, mak- ing known the Father's love which prompted him to send to earth the most exquisite jewel heaven owned — ^the King of glory. When afflictions fall heavily upon him, may he never lack for willing hands to bathe the fevered cheek and press the aching brow, or for the glorious promises of Heaven to cheer ; and may the evening of his career be a sweet reflection of the triumphant day fading into life's gentle twilight. " September 18," 1899. BIRTHDAY MEDITATIONS. Timers great chariot wheel still keeps spinning and spin- ning around and around. Watch its spokes flit by our door ! ISTow, do you see ? It has completed another circuit, and has again placed April on the throne. Ha ! It waves at me in passing, and tells me this is my birthday. Sure enough, this is "April 25 ! " Leave me alone a little while, if you please, and let me reflect. Well, be this my consolation : My friends surely will not expect much of me when they learn that I was born in April. They certainly will not require much of an "April f — 1." I am sure they need not, for I realize too sadly that my life work 354 He;arthstone Echoes. thus far has been small, and I fear that when it is all told it will still amount to but little. IN^ature keeps busy. The buds and flowers of one year ago have long since sunk deep into the soil to await this, tkeir annual resurrection. The trees that a few months since changed their green for gay have since been draped in crys- tal beads, and in somber gladness the Old Year has taken up his bright inheritance of golden fruit, and, as Bryant suggests, has " smiled even while drawing his last breath." The 'New Year has stood over the grave of the Old ; has be- decked it with dewy diamonds and gently covered it with whited shroud ; then has turned from the scene of death to begin his life labor. He has already dissolved the icicle and the wintry snow ; has drawn the life current from the earthen reservoir and placed it in the veins of the dormant trees, bedecking them' with green twigs and many-tinted flowers ; then has called back the gay-plumaged songsters from a snowless clime. Let me see. How many times? Yes, nine and forty times have I witnessed this great revolution, though the first few made no impression on my mind. The older I grow, the more rapidly do birthdays seem to come ; and full well do I realize the speed with which they have already begun to pull me doAvn the " steeps of time." The scroll of the future is not yet unrolled. I cannot tell whether most of its contents speak of eyes with gladness filled or of tear drops on the cheek. Let it remain unseen ; it will unroll fast enough. If sadness come, I will try, Birthday Meditations. 355 though with breaking heart, to meekly, bravely bear it; if gladness shall be the greater part, I will enjoy it all the more for its being a surprise. We are all frail creatures, like " leaves borne to earth by the breezes of time ; " but we do not desire to have marked on our records^ " Nothing but leaves," after we shall have fallen into our silent resting places. The dewdrop and the floating bubble are little things, yet both reflect the sun. One soon bursts, and is gone ; the other sinks into the soil and sends forth, the ear of wheat to feed a hungry neighbor. Which shall we be, the dewdrop or the floating bubble ? Since I think about it, my month is not so bad, after all. It drives back the cold March breath and melts, as into tears of loving sympathy, the icicles that hang like pendant spears from the cottage eaves. My month uncovers the little flow- er's grave. The wee beauty peeps out from beneath it» mossy quilt, and, with eyes half open, nods to us : " Good morning ! " My month brings the humming bird, without which the flower bed and the forest glade would be incom- plete. My month plants much of the farmer's grain; it fills his dairy with rich butter and cream ; it paints his lips with ripe berries; and it points him to his smiling fields. Would that I could only do as well as my natal month, April ! Then it would some day be whispered of me : " She hath done what she could." But we are all weak and un- grateful. How often we " drown the night in peaceful slumbers, then arise in health and forget to thank our God ! " How often " we pray for better bread, when we only need 356 He;arthstone) Bchoks. better appetites '' caused hy better work ! Sometimes we forget that happiness is like manna — has to be gathered in grains and enjoyed one day at a time. We want to get it all at once. I trust my friends will not think of me as a pouting, dis- contented, disconsolate creature, though what I have just written may sound like it. I would dislike to be considered the fern that begged, pouted, and pined to leave the shade and go and grow by the rose. I have never censured my God for not causing me to be a man. I find pleasure wher- ever I am; have never had to leave home in search of hap- piness. If others have more favorable surroundings, prob- ably they deserve better j mine are far l»etter than I merit. I have all these years lived in a world of good people and where there was plenty of ground to grant me a final pil- low — a grave. I have always been blessed with good neigh- bors and good friends, and I try to search them for their virtues, while searching myself for my faults, of which I find many. Whereas I see some who may be more pleas- antly surrounded than myself, I see many with environ- ments far less favorable. I would like to possess more wealth — ^not so much the dissolving mammon, but rich coins of sympathy, cheer, kindness, and gratitude. I do not know that I would be able to endure the burden of riches. I know not the strength of my heart in resisting such temptation; it has never been thus tested. Perhaps it is best I have only had plenty; otherwise I might have been led even farther from my duty — might have permitted the love of worldly Birthday Meditations. 357 gain to stand between me and the cross of the Savior, on which I am trying to lean. (However, Christ's having said man '' cannot serve God and mammon " is no indication that he cannot serve God with his mammon, if he tries.) I try to keep my heart filled with sincere gratitude for all the blessings I receive, and realize they come from a source divine. I try not to borrow to-morrow's cares, thus steal- ing from the treasury of the gray-haired veteran, Time; for " the misfortunes hardest to bear are often those which never happen." So I have decided it is better to gather all the sunshine we can to-day — to cherish the jewel content. I know the trees must bow before the blasts, and so must we ; therefore I always try to hold up bravely in hours of dis- tress, for why burden others with my own bleeding heart ? They have enough sorrows of their own. I try to be cheer- ful even when suffering inteiise pain or when my heart is aching. May I be patient ; not spend my time fretting and scolding and finding fault, but always do my best to crush any thorns of strife I see by the wayside and scatter the bloom of peace in the path of others while traveling the dusty road of time : and by all means deliver me from being " moody," which J. G. Holland pronounces one of the very meanest among the mean dispositions, and one for which there is no excuse whatever. It is my heart's desire to always keep a pure record, thus never bringing reproach upon onr dear Redeemer's cause, and to so live that my precious children may always be in love with their mother and so that my devoted husband may prize 358 Hearthstone Echoes. his wife as highly in her sear-leaved autumn as he did in the daisied springtime of her life. Even love is not blind to faults ; therefore I know my own loved ones can plainly see my many weaknesses. I sadly see them myself, and am try- ing hard to conquer them. Let my dear ones try to overlook them as much as possible, for I do not want my faults hang- ing in the halls of their memory for them to sigh over when I am gone. Would that I could make my disposition mild enough to correspond with these pleasant April breezes and with April's refreshing showers ! This I am daily trying to do — ■ not only by attempting to expel the acid fluids of my soul, but also by putting in something to neutralize that which remains that is impure.. The best prescription for the latter is the love and spirit of Christ, our great Physician. When we follow his directions, we need not fear, for he will not fail to cure. Neither do we have to wait for the " next train " on which the physician " is expected to come." We never have to send a message over the wires, wait for it to make several changes, and then pay a messenger fee at the other end of the line. Every Christian's heart is on direct line with the throne of God, and he is always there, receiver in hand, as it were, ready to hear our feeble, but sincere, petitions. Then let us never stop serving him faithfully while we live, for we know full well that Heaven's rewards and crowns lie beyond the battle plains. ' "April 25," 1901. Yks, Wn Miss You at Home. 359 YES, WE MISS YOU AT HOME. (Parody.) (To my absent husband and daughter, who spent the wintor of 1895-1896 in Florida.) Yes, we miss you at home — yes, we miss you; Be this your assurance most dear: To know that this moment some loved one Is saying: "I wish they were here." You may know that the group at the fireside Are thinking of you as you " roam;" And be this your joy beyond measure: To know that we miss you at home — To know that we miss you at home. When twilight approaches (the season That ever is sacred to song). Then some one repeats your names over. And sighs that you tarry so long; And there is a chord in the music That's missed with your voices away. And a chord in each heart that awaketh Regret at your wearisome stay — Regret at your wearisome stay. As we draw up our chairs near the table, When evening's home reading is nigh. While the lamps gently bum in our bedrooms. And the stars in the calm azure sky, And when the " good nights " are repeated. As all of us lie down to sleep. We offer a prayer to our Father O'er our loved ones his vigils to keep — O'er our loved ones his* vigils to keep. 360 Hbarthstone; Echoes. Yes, we miss you at home — yes, we miss you At morning, at noon, and at eve. And lingers one gloomy shade round us That only your presence can relieve. Joys are less invitingly welcome, And pleasures less hale than before. Because you are missed from our circle. Because you're not with us at home — Because you're not with us at home. THE SEVERED LINK, On the united heart wall of my kind husband and my- self was placed a chain of three strong links. A mysterious messenger visited us ; we called him " Death." He re- moved the first link, leaving a broken chain and bleeding hearts. A social little band were we, and very happy. Perhaps we were too happy in our surroundings, and needed that some of our hearts' tendrils be torn from earth by hav- ing a support around which they were entwined removed to a fairer clime. Almost in the same moment we think of George Larimore Meeks as a helpless infant; then a fair-faced, brown-eyed baby boy, tottering around our knees, with dark ringlets hanging over his brow ; then from four to six years old, sing- ing a score of songs and acting temperance pieces ; then as a little schoolboy, merrily on his way, with book satchel across his shoulder ; next, at the age of eleven, lovingly and ;nanfully yielding obedience to his Lord ; next, as a hopeful George l,. Meeks. Th:^ Ssv:Eri;d Link. 361 jouth of seventeen, delivering his graduating " final " on the suhjeet he had selected years before, "What I Have Written I Have Written ; " next, we think of him at Ken- tucky University, associated with brainy men of national renown. In one of his letters from there, in alluding to his aged grandparents, he said : " The wheels of time have turned so smoothly with us for so long we need not expect it to remain thus much longer. There will necessarily be a change before a great while, but we cannot know who nor when." Little did he think he would be the first to make the change, and that so soon. We were permitted to give him a welcome home greeting, and his prospects for long life seemed unusually flattering; but — alas! — ^in less than a year what a change ! Almost seven years ago ! Yet the intervening space seems so short — it must have been yesterday. The May skies were fair indeed without, and for a long time love's sun- light made it bright within. Almost seven years ago ! Si- lent darkness had for hours brooded over our native land ; all without was quiet and serene ; aH within was calm and still, except the anxious heart throbs of loving friends bend- ing over a sinking form. We had often gone in secret to a throne of grace and earnestly pleaded : " Lord, ' if it be possi- ble, let this cup pass from me [us] : nevertheless [help us to say] not as I [we] will, but as thou wilt.' Help us to humbly pray : '' Thy will be done.' " We watched our boy's calm countenance, unaffected by all his suffering and by our manifestations of grief ; we gave ear to his dying songs, 362 HE;AR'rHSTONE; Echoes. so soft and sweet, as if sung for only angels to hear. Mo- ments and hours steadily passed, we knew not how. We glanced at the window. The sun's cheering rays were climbing from behind the eastern hills as an encouraging signal that day would soon be here in all its brightness, but to the anxious little group his messages failed to give the usual cheer. As the golden beams brightened nature, having bid- den darkness depart, the deep shadows lengthened and dark- ened on our hearts ; for we saw too plainly that the object we were so tenderly, lovingly watching was sinking, sinking — ■ was fading away. " Papa, what time is it ? " he asked. " Fifteen minutes after six, my son," softly replied the grieved father. Beads of cold perspiration were standing like dewdrops of pearl on that tall, full forehead ; we heard the repeated "Mamma, don't cry — ^I'm not suffering one hit; " his lips were forbidden utterance ; his eyes ceased to turn and behold the familiar faces surrounding him; his eyelids became still in death ; his pulse had almost ceased ; and, like a candle burning low, we at times would think the light was extinguished ; then it would shine forth again, then go out. !N"ot a sigh, not a murmur, not a tremor, not a groan, not a frown ; and by the time the darkness of night had en- tirely retreated and the day king was fully established on the throne, the feeble glimmer of earth life had forsaken our boy, and a pall of darkness overshadowed our hearts. Our family chain was broken; there was a missing link. Our hearts were full ; scalding tears would unbidden flow. It had never seemed to us that George would die so young; The Severed I,ink. 363 he had always been so strong, so hardy, 90 buoyant with hope, so full of life and ambition. Our selfish natures had told us we had not one child to spare ; but the same divine finger that pointed to the hour hand of his earth life and marked its limit, pointed also to the eternal gates of glory ajar. The Lord gave; it is his privilege to take away, our duty to humbly submit. We must " wait, meekly wait, and murmur not." Our boy had much pleasure in his short Kfe and missed life's sorrows. On his last birthday (when nineteen), he, of his own ac- cord, wrote some resolutions beautifully covering the entire ground of morality and Christianity. Relative to these resolutions, his uncle, M. H. Meeks, vsTote as follows: " They are a remarkable production. !N"o one but George could have gotten them up. There is a nobility of charac- ter in them, plainly visible, rarely to be seen. His mem- ory is so sacred and touching to me. I loved him so much, so much. I cannot picture a heaven for me without him. You know my attachment for him was always singularly great." George had always manifested a fondness for home that was charming, especially for his own upper room. When at home, he could scarcely be induced to sleep in any other ; said this room was the " spot on earth " he loved best. Though then made so bright and cheerful by the sunshine of his presence, it and many of its furnishings now only re- mind us that he once was there. His trunk still contains many relics he so highly prized — keepsakes he regarded as 364 Hearthstone Echoes. almost sacred. In his bookcase are the books marking his extensive course of study; there is his bed, unoccupied; there, by the door, is the same brick bearing his initials, " G. L. M ; " on the mantel is a mirror he neatly framed, and a picture of our home, with the little family group, he one of the number. But there is a cold stillness in that room, and the passing breezes without seem to catch the impulse of a maternal heart and sadly repeat : " The loved occupant is gone, gone ! " His familiar footfalls have for- saken the stairway; we miss him from his accustomed seat at the dining table and around the family hearthstone ; we miss his cheerful companionship, his merry laugh, and his musical touch on the piano keys. His unusual fondness for music had developed into decided talent for the same, and during the last year or two he composed many beauti- ful little instrumental airs, among them " Variations of Happy Day " — the first song he ever sung. Two or three times during the first week of his illness he slipped out of bed and into the parlor to the piano, and played with re- markable sweetness. One of the last songs he sung and played was "A Boy's Best Friend is His Mother." 'Now, when we assemble in the parlor to hear music made by our children, one of our little home band is sadly missing — no George there now to play with his devoted sister those beau- tiful duets ; no George to aid in the music, to which his very fingers and breath seemed tuned. He had looked forward 'with much anxiety to the time when he should be "twenty- The Seve;re;d IvInk. 365 one;" had planned great achievements, and thought it would be a wonderful thing to be a man. He always had an eye for the beautiful, and was a great lover of nature. He called flowers " babies " before old enough to speak their names. During his sickness kind friends tenderly remembered him with floral tributes, for which he never failed to express his appreciation ; and when laid in his coffin, hands of love gently and gracefully placed therein a modest wreath about his head and left many beau- tiful garlands to fade and wither on his grave. Do we miss him? We sadly miss him; but there is a sweetness con- nected with his memory we would not willingly lose, bright- ened by the assurance that as a Christian he was faithful to his trust. The great calendar has made seven circuits, but I still often imagine he is only off on a visit, soon to return ; and when something seems to whisper to me, " George is dead ! " a strange kind of chill creeps over me, and I feel like my heart will sink. During the three weeks of his serious ill- ness (typhoid fever), I scarcely lost consciousness in sleep. When I would close my eyes and try to relieve my mind of maternal anxiety, I would imagine I was rubbing the hands and arms of my poor, sick boy or preparing his medicine, when the sweet cadence of his plaintive, manly voice, trem- bling from weakness, would reach my ears, saying: " Mam- ma ! " All inclination to sleep would instantly depart, and the next moment would find me at his side. Those three 366 HE;ARTHSTON:e Echoes. weeks still seem to me like a dream; the departure of our child, like a frightful nightmare. Life itself is somewhat like a dream — eternity, the great awakening ; and — O ! — ^when this dream life is over and the angel's trump shall arouse the sleeping millions, only imagine what a glad awakening, and ^^ what a gathering of the f aith- ful that will be!" WEDDING BELLS, Listen ! We hear the peals of wedding bells. Who ? O, who ? Is it a couple from afar ? They say not. Are some of our neighbors going to marry ? Come nearer our home, still nearer, and ask again; come under the shadow, of our own roof; come to our own fireside, to our own, bosoms, to our hearts throbbing with parental devotion. Here you will find a darling of our lives — a brother's loving sister, a, " mamma's " companion-daughter, a " papa's " precious treasure. She it is who is about to link her des- tiny with another. Can this be ? Is it possible our only daughter — ^the one we have watched and nourished with such tender devotion, the one upon whom we have lavished our impartial love — is it possible she is so soon to become a bride ? But this is part of life. Jean Ingelow pathet- ically says a mother's lot is " To love, to nurse, to rear, To watch, and then to lose — To see her loved ones disappear;" Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Bai,dy, Wedding Beli^. 3^7 while " To hear, to heed, to wed, Is the fair lot that maidens choose." Winter is now enthroned as king of seasons, and has ap- pointed December (1899) as ruler over this division of his kingdom. December has appointed his thirty-one subjects to stand on duty, one by one ; and six of them, having com- pleted their work, have retired from' service. Winter has not yet donned his snow-tipped crown, nor raised his harsh voice, nor pierced our natures with his icy breath. He seems to be kindly waiting in behalf of the parties most deeply interested in those ^vedding bells I now hear. The days continue cool, but pleasant. True, the autumn frost has searched through garden and woodland, has gathered the flowers into the soil to await another awakening; but hands of love, anticipating this occasion, have beautified the church with lace curtains, evergreens, and mammoth chrysanthemums ; with " blushing buds from cupid's bow- ers and trailing vines from wonderland." A large bell of holly, dotted with roses and deeply fringed with its own beads of coral, hangs just under the bridal arch. Inside this mammoth bell is suspended a small, sweet-toned bell of sterling silver, to which is attached a bolt of ribbon. A charming little girl in white is to stand near, gently pulling the ribbon, causing the little bell to modestly ring forth its soft, silver chimes, mingling and keeping time with the other music of the wedding march, and continuing while " Brother Freed " shall speak the words that unite the twain. 368 Hkarthstonk Echoes. But listen again ! The church bell is still ringing, while I muse. Listen to its plaintive vibrations wafted to us by the cool evening breezes ! What is the language of those vibrations ? What do thej say ? Give ear while they speak to us. Listen ! Do you understand them ? I do, distinctly. To the young lovers of merriment they bring a thrill of joy, for they tell of '^' sometliing to go to." To the eight couples of attendants they are vivid predictions of the time to which they look forward with bright anticipa- tion, when tJiey will be the ones most interested in the wed- ding bells ; to the young couple to be made one they bring a feeling none but that couple can know and which they cannot describe. To them these thrilling peals tell of the past, present, and future almost as one. They whisp«r to them in love and tremulous emotion ; they tell of apprecia- tion and hope; they recall to mind the many earnest talks of the two young lovers ; they point them to their future des- tinies, building for them many lofty and beautiful "air castles," with now and then, a light cloud intervening. To the fond parents they bring a strange feeling of mingled resignation and sadness — sadness at the thought of their only daughter's being placed so strongly on the claims of an- other, yet resignation at the consoling thought that, instead of becoming " unequally yoked with an unbeliever," she is uniting her destiny with another consistent branch of the " true vine " — with a young man free from evil habits, and one we feel sure will ever love, cherish, and protect her. To the keen insight of parental love these melancholy chimes Who'IvI. BE) NiexT? 369 announce the death of boyhood and girlhood and tell of duties and responsibilities the young' couple have searcely thought of. Peering into the mystic future, they reveal the many- tinted pictures hanging in the halls of the heart — pictures of joy and sorrow, smiles and tears. Then parental love pierces the gloom; hope, in dovelike innocence, strews the pathway of this young couple with roses of peace and con- tentment ; and faith sees them at last safe together in the blessed beyond. Such is the message of the " wedding bells." WHO'LL BE NEXT? Who'll be the next to cross the river That flows between us and that home? Who'll be the next among our loved ones To answer to the summons: "Come?" Shall I be next? O, blessed Father, May I but say: " Thy will be done!" Thou knowest best, thou judgest rightly; May my will and thine own be one. Shall father, mother, sister, brother, Sweet children, or companion dear? O Father, bless the ones left weeping! May thy word be their constant cheer. Those left behind not long will linger; From toils of life we'll soon be free. Let's be prepared to safely anchor Beyond the bright, the "Jasper Sea." 370 He;artmstone Echoes. THE FAMILY WHEEL. A LITTLE babe — how frail, how helpless ! Even when in perfect health it is almost as delicate as a snowdrop. What tender nursing, what vigilant attention in bringing it where it will be, even in a measure, seK-reliant ! Yet with what pleasure is this care bestowed by the fond par- ents, who feel themselves doubly paid by the dovelike " coo- ing " and by the smiles and prattle of baby love ! Three bright little cherubs were ours to make smiles around our hearthstone. The first proved to be a "l>oy" in the true sense of the word — a boy full of life, with large heart, mind, and principle ; a boy bright for study and keen for play. Our next (three years younger) was a blue-eyed baby girl, whose hair hung thick wdth many a glossy curl, and we called her our precious, priceless "Pearle." Five years later came another baby boy — in appearance, a " goodly child ; " in disposition, lively, affectionate, and true. These three, with their papa, manuma, and dear old "grandmamma," constituted our little family wheel; and for several years it turned gently and smoothly, with scarcely a jostle. Moments fast grew into years. At nineteen our older boy w^as seized by an unfriendly fever. We gave him every attention ; but, in spite of care and love and art and medi- cine, he seemed to be slipping away from us. We saw the inevitable drawing near; we steeled ourselves to bear the blow; those three devoted, silver-haired grandparents wore , solemn faces and wiped large tear drops from their furrowed The FamiIvY Wheei,. 371 cheeks ; friends and neighbors stood in awe ; he could take no food; we watched, we hoped, we prayed; hope would vanish, then return; the group about the fireside would faintly whisper, "How is he ? " his respiration and heart beatings became incredibly fast ; his eyes gave up their radi- ance; he softly, sweetly sung " O, How I Love Jesus!" but his tongue grew weary, his voice grew weak ; his breath was exhausted; his heart lost its power; he quietly, pa- tiently, peacefully passed into the realm of spirits. A dot- ing sister was bereft of a companion brother ; a little brother, of a true friend and " partner ; " devoted parents, of a prom- ising son. Thus a cherished spoke was broken from our precious family wheel, which we still sadly miss. " From love's shining circle the gems drop away." Time and trust have softened, but they have not healed, the bitter sorrow. At home, at school, out of school, off at school, back from- school, a young lady at home — ^these few words extend from the cradle to " grown-up " girlhood. By and by the pre- vailing powers whispered that we were to have another son — not an heir according to the flesh, but by virtue of the law — ^that a " grown-up " boy should become a spoke in our family wheel. This soon came to pass ; the additional spoke was inserted J the "baby girl " became a bride. The little wheel still keeps constantly moving — rolling across the plains of time toward eternity's boundless sea. As a imit we trust it will long continue to move as now, all its spokes harmoniously united in one grand center — Christianity. 372 Hearthstone; Echoes. WHOSE BOY> TJneolling the scroll of the past, I see a precious little jewel placed in a family ring. It is a baby boy. I stay near ; I watch his maneuvers ', I mark his course. Soon he develops a disposition remarkably affectionate. The key- note of his heart, as a sweet echo, quickly responds to any chord of love. He is tender-hearted j often does his mother kiss from the baby cheek the tear drops placed there by infant grief. By the way, we should never be sparing of our kind words to a cliild. Only a word of sympathy, in time of childish trouble, may break the thread of grief encircling and choking the infant heart. This little one is easily controlled. A word or look of love usually suffices; but when a more horrible weapon be- comes necessary, it is ever ready — a single broom straw on the mantel, leaning against the clock. It is not often used, however. An earnest look at it^ then a glance at the boy, is, as a rule, all-sujfficient. He has a mania for running away to a gum spring, not far from the house — the same spring in which his father, when a wee laddie, came near being drowned. One day his mother, realizing the danger, whips him nearly all the way back to the house. 0, what screams! Just listen! Surely the neighbors will think the little one is snake bitten, or a mad dog is tearing him to pieces, or his clothes have caught on fire and he is burning to death. 'Ro, no; his mother is only peppering his bare " footies " with a single straw of sedge grass. These are John H. Me;eks. Whose Boy? 373 " love licks " to save the baby from a watery grave, but they almost break the little heart. His mamma often trots him on her knee and sings " Pret- tiest Little Boy in the Country — O." He exclaims, with all the earnestness of his nature : " Say 'girl' maiama ; say ^ GIRL ! ' '' She continues to say " boy." His brow be- comes crowned with frowns, his face grows red, tears begin to chase each other down his fair and rosy cheeks, and his whole being seems to indicate a disapproval of her course. By the continued repetition of the word " boy " he becomes perfectly indignant, and cries as if an arrow had pierced his heart ; but when she changes to " prettiest little 'girl' " an instant brightening is seen in his countenance. With mouth open, tongue out, face wreathed in smiles, eyes spar- kling with love, he shows ecstatic delight — ^which, however, is instantly exchanged for horrid frowns and exclamations of sorest displeasure at substituting the word " boy." When he is three years old, the family move to Jackson (in January). When asked his age, he readily replies: " I was free years old the last nineteenth of December." He is a remarkable speller, never hesitating a moment on any word we give him. He scarcely ever uses a vowel. For instance, " P-h-d-k — bread ; f-k-g-d — house." A month's series of meetings being held at the church three-fourths of a mile from the little boy's home, he is taken every night with the family. He goes to sleep at the beginning of the services, according to his early training, and at the close is led home asleep, by two of the family — one on either side. 374 Hearthstone Echoes. His little feet seem wide awake and ready for duty; they carry the little body at usual speed; but the head is fast asleep; eyes, closed; ears, dull of hearing; tongue, silent. The tiny neck seems unjointed, and permits the head co bobble and tumble about promiscuously, striking first one, then the other, of the parties leading him, tossing the little chinchilla cap off on the pavement — sometimes, behind him ; sometimes, in front. IlTot a cry, a pout, nor a whine — he is oblivious to the world and all its happenings. A very especial friend of his, Mr. Biggs, ascertaining how he walks home every night in his sleep, is touched with sympathy and carries the forty-five pounder in his arms all the way home the three or four remaining nights of the meeting. A year later the family move to Henderson. The one who makes the family biscuits frequently cuts one or two in some peculiar shape, "just to please the hahy." He regards it ag almost criminal and sacrilegious to eat his " funny bis- cuits," as he calls them, at mealtime. He lays them be- side his plate until through eating, then carefully puts them away for his lunch. One morning at breakfast he alarms us with a sudden scream, which is often and rapidly repeated. Surely the child has bitten his thumb half off ! In excite- ment we run to him, expecting to see the blood streaming down his large bib and on the table linen. Finding no blood, we decide it must be a broken tooth. When he re- covers suflficient control of his feelings to speak, amid tears and sobs, he says : " I — I — I bit — I bit my — funny BISCUIT ! " Whose Boy? 375 During an entertainment given at the college by the lit- tle folks, their teacher, Miss Sue Inman, secretly attracts this little boy out of the audience; and all are astonished when the " four-year-old " — small for his years — walks fearlessly out on the rostrum, and, in an unconcerned man- ner, looks calmly over the large audience as if counting the many familiar faces, while he slowly and distinctly sings two verses of the good old " meetin' hymn," " On Jordan's Stormy Bunks," with the chorus : " We'll Work Till Jesus Comes." Just about this time a colored man — liberal with words — is hauling stove wood. Being on the " good side " of this child, he promises him a " shore-'nough one-horse wagon and a shore-'nough live horse ; " is to bring them "to- morrow, shore." The mother, anticipating the disappoint- ment, tries very hard to convince the child that the man is only jesting. " ^No, ma'am; he's istot joking. He says he'll being 'em, an' he will." Several to-morrows glide back with the yesterdays, and " next week " takes their place in the promise; yet he cannot be convinced it is a " joke." He goes on a visit to " grandpa's " to stay two weeks. The " shore-'nough " horse and wagon are, " with- out fail," to meet him at the train on his return, and he is to " drive up home." At the stated time he returns, with full assurance that his royal conveyance is at his command. Almost heartrending is his disappointment. Never pre- vious to this moment has his confidence been shaken in a positive assertion from the human tongue. 376 Hearthstone Echoes. He shows great inclination to be seK-snstaining. lis decides to be a merchant. Arranging with Mr. Clark for space by his store door, he buys all his goods from him. The stock invoices twenty-five cents ; capital, borrowed from " papa ; " profit, minus one cent, the loss being caused by his great liberality, he voluntarily giving his sister a \'al- uable piece of candy worth one c-ent. This, his first mer- chandise, is all in a cigar box. A year glides by. He is ■a little more than five. An ex- cellent and very near neighbor, Mrs. Murchison, sends for him (she calls him one of her pets). A few moments later he returns home, perfectly wild. What is the matter ? Has she poisoned him ? Watch his strange actions ! There he goes ! Watch him ! He runs like a lion is after him. He darts through the house into the front yard, lies down in the grass, rolls over and over, jumps up, falls down, springs up like a rubber ball, falls again, turns somersaults, jumps up again, wheels around and around, down in the grass, stands on his head, then on his feet, dances a while, runs from one side of the yard to the other, then back, dashes around in a large circle, then in a smaller one, falls, rolls over and over again, his eyes flashed, face flushed, veins swollen in neck and throat, panting like a lizard. "What is tJie matter with that hoy ? " is the cry. The answer can be best given by some other little boy in his " FIEST PA^TS." Three times does a " boy " feel indescribably large — ^when he exchanges kilt skirts for " first pants," when he goes with his first girl, and when he buys his marriage Whosb Boy? 377 license. After this be begins to feel tbe pressure of years and pocketbook, and is never again in the same degree im- pressed with bis own importance. This little one is a " sure-enongh hoy " now, six years old, and continues full of life, but not of mischief. He is not tbe boy to cut tbe telephone wires, throw stones to break windows in vacant houses, Or laugh at children who wear patched clothes. He still desires to earn his own money, and tries different traffics with all the earnestness any can- didate manifests in a " stump speech." He deals largely in live stock ; buys — not all at the same time — several calves, four goats, a number of pigs, and four dozen chickens. Mr. Hardeman gives him a pig, which he carries home (a quarter of a mile) on his shoulder, holding it by two feet. On his arrival his papa asks him, the weight of his pig. He quickly replies: "Well, sir, when I started with it, it weighed about fifteen pounds; now it weighs about sixty- five." Later he carries two pigs in a tow sack on his shoul- der half a mile, having paid two dollars for them. Some- times he realizes a small profit in bis traffic ; sometimes, sus- tains a heavy loss. For instance, he goes " up town " with his goat wagon filled with nice fruit for sale. A boy in his higher teens ruthlessly snatches some of the choicest fruit and jubilantly walks off eating it, leaving a lasting impres- sion on the young mind. The cholera invades his poultry yard and claims half the inmates. Some of his pigs are found dead in their bed. One goat is killed by the rail- road. His favorite goat, Charlie, gTows weary of running 378 He;arthstone Echoes. iipliill and downhill from town witli the large (?) boy and a ham, a sack of potatoes or flour in his little wagon ; so he begs to go and be with other goats. He is not satis- fied with " well enough," but thinks he can do better by be- ing his own master. (Wonder if any little girl or boy ever thought thus.) Permission is granted. Charlie scam- pers away, and is soon in the pasture with his brethren. Being a town goat, he possibly feels his importance, and soon begins to lock horns with one of his fellow-citizens. [N^ot returning as early as expected, his master seeks and finds him, then comes home with sobs and tears, dirty face, and bloated eyes, and unable to utter a single word, except : "Oj my poor little Charlie ! " On investigation it is ascer- tained that, in the tussle with other goats, Charlie has been dehorned. However, the boy does not long suffer himself discouraged over trifles; but, like the oft-defeated spider, he ties the thread and tries again. When scarcely too large to wear a kilt skirt and sunbonnet, he picks enough strawberries in a very few days (at one and one-half cents a quart) to buy himself a five-dollar suit of clothes, at the same time going to school half of each day. Sometimes he uses his papa's study for a store and deals largely in the " pin-and-card " trade, keeping his books with great accuracy. This instills into him a love and aptitude for mercantile work; and finding favor with some of the merchants in town, they sell him a few little articles — ^matches, soap, bluing, soda, candy, bananas, etc. — at discount, so he can sell for a small Whose Boy? 379 profit. Also, when they have a vacancy in their stores, they permit him to " clerk " for them, which seems part of his very nature. When he is almost seven, he attends the fair one day, and is so highly entertained he greatly desires to return the next day. The next morning his mother says to him : " Son, I cannot let you go to the fair to-day, for there is no one go- ing from home to take care of you." He makes no reply, but droops his head and looks very, very sad. In a few moments it is ascertained that a young lady living with the family is going and is willing to take the child. His mother calls him to her and says : " You have acted so nicely not to cry and pout over your disappointment I have decided to let you go, for Mattie is going and will take the best care of you. If you had been an ugly boy and cried, I would not have consented to your going; but you have been so sweet about it — " He turns his head to one side, looks at her with pleased countenance and sparkling eyes, and says : '' T knew you would be more apt to let me go if I said nothing. Mamma, / have been Tcnowing you just about seven years." About this time, having proudly (but not the first time) escorted a little girl home from a birthday party, he is re- turning home alone, a half mile or more, from " across town," when, in the blackness of night, he suddenly comes in severe contact with a lamp-post, which seems determined to knock him backward. Regaining his lost forces, he trots along, whistling a merry tune. Going rapidly down Col- lege Hill, he gazes at a mysterious white " something " to 38o Hkarthstonk Echoes. his left and runs against something black, when, to his re- lief, "Bahj hahl " says the black goat and scampers away to its white companion. Another very dark night he crosses Owl Creek bottom alone, on horseback. "Who, who, who, who-oo-oo f " comes lonesomely pealing through the impen- etrable gloom from some unknown sentinel near by. The pony becomes frightened ; the boy feels " kinder queer like." "Who, who, who oor ye f " says a deeper-toned voice on the other side of the road, while just in front of him a shrill voice impatiently demands : " Who-oo oo-oo ? who-oo oo-oo ? " The boy wants to tell the strangers it is none of their busi- ness who he is, but for some reason the pony seems to have suddenly decided " there's no place like home ; " so the boy has no time to reply. It is his first acquaintance with the impertinent, big-eyed, horned fowls. At ten years he enters the fold of the good Shepherd, being led into the waters of obedience by the tender hand of his loving father, as were his brother and sister at the ages of eleven and ten. The following winter he accom- panies his parents to Florida; feasts on the luscious fruits until, by the intense freeze, the fair State is shorni of her golden glory ; then finds favor with a business Man in Ocala, for whom he sells papers until he clears for himself the neat little sum of twenty dollars, clearing one cent on each paper. He possesses wonderful power of absorption — can learn much from his environments without special study; yet while in school he studies well, makes good grades, and manifests much interest in his classes. In the Georgia Rob- Birthday Lktte;r. 381 ertson Christian College, at Henderson, he completes the Commercial Course at the age of fourteen; has spent part of his time on the farm trying to better develop his physical self; and at the time of this writing is engaged in what seems his natural pursuit — mercantile work. He is now " sweet sixteen," and his worth (to his parents) is at least "sixteen to one." In him centers much of their love, their anxiety, their hope. Parental devotion shrinks at the idea of picturing for him any other than a pleasant future here and a more glorious hereafter. He is not overgrown in stature, but is immensely large in heart, and I trust has learned that the index finger to success continues to point heavenward. Who can guess whose boy this is ? Who is ready to claiiQ him? BIRTHDAY LETTER. (To Mr. R, P. M.) Hei^deeson, Tenn., " September 18," 1901. My Own True Companion : Twenty-eight years ago this day — this hour — I became yours, you became mine. Happy, fortunate incident in my life ; can you say as much ? Well, as you doubtless remember, the way it " so hap- pened " was somewhat after this fashion : You had claimed a birthday present from me (since we were reasonably good friends). Rubies and diamonds I had none; so you con- cluded you would try to be content with a cheaper present, 382 He;arthstone; Echoes. and suck as I had gave I thee — ratker an insignificant birtk- day gift, I will admit, and so will you now, since you kave learned more about it j for it was notking but my own little self. However, you kave endured tke disappointment with great fortitude, for wkick you deserve muck credit, Twenty-eigkt years ago ! I believe we are now a little older tkan we were tken. Tke gTeat index finger points to your record and pronounces you fifty-two. Well, tkat is not so very old — at least not old enougk for me to place a lower estimate on you. I am keeping rigkt well up witk you — only two and one-kalf years behind. "We are aware of no especial crime on our record to make us blusk or weep ; and it is our intention, witk divine aid, to make tke future, if ours, contain still fewer blunders. If we are spared to eack otker until " silver tkreads " usurp tke place of all tke dark ones on our brows and our vision becomes seriously impaired, we, fortunately, will not see tke deep furrows in eack otker's ckeeks as distinctly as otkers wilL Tkey will appear to us, doubtless, like sligkt dimples, in wkick are stored away tke essence of sweet memories of tke " used to be." Like "Jamie " and " Maggie," let us try to be blinded to eack otker's imperfections, so eack to tke other can say: " To me you're as fair as you were, , When you and I were young." Let US live patiently, live konorably, live godly, and try to grow old gracefully if granted long life, so to us tke " koary head " will be a " crown of glory." Birthday Letter. 383 Of course, our wedded life has not been all sunshine. !N'ow and then a dense cloud arises, and nature weeps. Sometimes the darkness grows so deep, so heavy, we feel the chill of despair creep over our very hearts. Darkness he- fore us, around us ! Together we have seen bright days and dark days ; together we have " passed under the rod " of affliction. There is a sadly vacant room in our home and a strangely sad vacuum in your heart and mine. The par- ent stem always bleeds and suffers when from it is plucked a cherished rose. " But the Healer is here, pouring balm in our hearts," and assures us : " Earth hath no sorrows that heaven cannot cure." The star of hope appears brighter when seen through tears. When tears flow freely and swiftly for a while, they leave the vision clear for stars and sun ; but we must looh up to see them. Byron calls a tear " the weapon of a woman's weakness." Be that as it may, tears many times give the pent-up, crushed heart relief. Then when heart-crushed, we should not keep the tears pent up against their will, but should let them flow un- checked, until, like summer raindrops, they will be pierced by sunbeams. However, we should not go " tear-blinded through life and touch but tombs," thus blighting the happi- ness of ourselves and others. Let us look at the *' shield " from the golden side. A source of unspeakable solace and joy you have always been to your family and other loved ones, and they wish for you a long-continued service in the work of our risen Lord, with Heaven to smile in love upon your life and labors. After the night of death, may you 384 Hearthstone; Echoes. gladly, joyously, triumphantly awaken in tliat beautiful " home of the soul." As a willing partaker of your sunshine and sadness, your sorrow and gladness, I am. Your faithful, though inferior, life partner. ''GRANDMAMMA.'' " Home, sweet home " — a household of peace, crowned with Christian love and unity — is made sweeter still by the presence of an honored, well-balanced, hoary head which " Time has touched in his rapid flight, And changed the darker locks ta white." Time has thus dealt with a dear old jfireside jewel of our little household, and now she is lovingly called "grand- mamma." We often speak of the milestones along life's road. This is very appropriate until we cross the half -century mark, after which some one says anniversaries come " like tele- graph poles when we are on a lightning express train." Doubtless they seem to pass incredibly fast to this aged pil- grim,* who still adds so much cheer to our little home circle and for whose prolonged existence we are truly grateful. Among the first things I remember about her is when good old Brother Love — one of the Lord's best watclnnen of soids — gently led her down into the waters of baptism. I Grandmamma Larimore. * ' Grandmamma. " 385 wondered why he did this, for I was then too young to real- ize the importance of obeying even a command of God for which we cxivld see no necessity. It does not seem long since that day, but time has passed with winged feet and has buried more than twoscore years in the grave of the yes- terdays. Years seem long or short according to their goal, and her aim has been to honor the divine name she that day assumed, try to advance the Master's cause she that day espoused, and lighten the burdens of frail humanity. Dur- ing this long journey, since she entered the ranks of the world's great Leader, not one backward step have we known her to take. " That load becomes light which is cheerfully borne." The spirit wrapped in this little borrowed thought has greatly aided her in enduring life's trials, of which she has had her share. Realizing a busy hour seems shorter than a leisure one, she, with heart full of unshed tears, has many times put on a bright countenance and looked around her for some one she could benefit; and in benefiting others, she has herself been blessed. The bitter of life's cup she has sipped with meek submission, though many times with breaking heart ; of the sweet she has participated with hum- ble gratitude. While blessed with physical strength, to the distressed she was always a " good Samaritan ; " to the needy, a ready friend. She never impairs the happiness of others by frequent allusions to her own ailments, misfor- tunes, and sorrows. She has always manifested a devo- tion for her friends and loved ones which is really charm- 386 Hearthstone Echoes. ing, forgetting herself in their behaK, no saerifice being too great for her to make for them. She possesses a sweet, amiable, cheery disposition which few can claim in so high a degree. Her mind has been so wholesomely and actively employed it has been less susceptible of the decrepitude that usually attends the aged than a mind that " feeds on itself." It is remarkable to see one at the advanced age of eighty- nine so well preserved and so free from being childish and sensitive. So many in their declining years lose interest in the activities of the present and live only in the mem- ories of the long ago. !N^ot thus with her. In memory her strong mind can look back and view the scenes and inci- dents of more than three-fourths of a century, and she can thrill the youth to-day with verbal descriptions of the same. At the same time, with her active brain and well-preserved visage she keeps informed as to the occurrences of the pres- ent, and is interested in the world's daily happenings. She finds great solace in good books, and reads until her eyes falter over the printed page; then stops a while, walks around, works with her flowers, looks admiringly on the beauties and grandeur of earth and sky; then comes back, and is soon busy again with her work or reading. Her in- dustrious habits are proverbial. Beared under the " old constitution," she is, in one respect at least, far from being up to date, and may by some be regarded as " old fogy " — that is, when in reasonable health she never lies down during the day ; cannot be persuaded to do so. , " Grandmamma Larimore " has many friends among "Grandmamma." 387 young and old, won by her mild, lovable disposition. She is so grateful for every little service rendered her, and never forgets the golden key: "Thank you." When suffering, she tries to keep any one from knowing it. She has kept folded from us hundreds of ills which we would by chance at last discover. Then she would mildly say : " Well, what good would it do to tell you of every little ache and pain? ■' I often wish she would complain more when suffering, so I would not neglect her and could give her at least a little more sympathy. ( She is averse to medical treatment. ) It is said that suffering becomes beautiful when borne with cheerfulness through greatness of mind. She often locks her sorrow in her own bosom and keeps her aches to herself, that others may not be grieved thereby. Though this dear old " grandmamma " (my own tender mother) may live years after seeing me buried, yet I real- ize too sadly that, according to nature, she is rapidly going down the hill of life— nay, rather, that in the sublimest sense she is fast going up ; is climbing higher and higher ; has already climbed so high she can plainly see, through the telescope of faith, into the city of gold and pearls. She is nearing the last round of life, from which she can step into the portals of glory. When I think of this (which is often), 1 am haunted with such questions as these: Am I doing what I can for her ? Am I making her life as bright as I could ? She freely gave much of her time and strength for my benefit when time and strength were hers to give. Am I doing as much for her ? Through winter's blast and 388 Hkarthstone Echqe^s. summer's scorching heat she has toiled for me, and has willingly and gladly sacrificed much for my sake. She watched my infant slumbers with an anxiety that none but a mother can feel. With her soft, velvety hand she has lovingly bathed my fevered cheek and pressed my aching brow. Have I repaid her? IsTay, verily. She is now where, if I am spared, the wheels of time will soon place me. It is mine now to bear her burdens and to shield her as she long ago shielded me. Am I doing thus ? (I hope the public will forgive me for what I am saying.) She is doubly dear to me ; is so much comfort and ever ready and anxious to do all in her power to add to my pleasure ; is such good company, so companionable, so sweet ; but do I tell her so as often as I should? That great heart of love which glowed with devotion for her children, in their babyhood has never grown weary in its devotion; but as the sun- flower continually turns to face the " day god " as he traces his course across the skies, so she ever turns her fond vigils on us as we travel the dusty road of life, and is ever ready to weep at our failures or rejoice at our success. If I love and appreciate her, shall I wait until she is gone before I tell her so ? I trust no one will censure me for saying that to me it gives a sense of rest to look upon that open countenance — so earnest, tender, strong, and true. To me there is an in- ward beauty shining through " the chinks that time has made," illuminating the face with a soft, mild splendor, giving sweetness to the expression and charm to every word ' ' Grandmamma. " 389 and look. I can imagine those wrinkles as only bright wave- lets of sunshine chasing each other over the dear old face ; I can see true, pure mother love peeping out from the shallow furrows which time has plowed in her cheeks; but shall I wait until the death angel calls her and is closing the gate of day before I tell her how I love and appreciate her ? Shall we all wait until she is gone, then speak her praises only on paper and marble ? I feel so thankful that, though seemingly she is perfeetly resigned and ever ready for the summons to go hence, she does not, like some, appear to grow weary of this life, be- come homesick, and pine and sigh for home. It is my hope that, with her wonderful constitution and vitality, braced by her patience, prudence, and sound judgment, we may for several years yet be blessed with her presence to cheer our homes and hearts. May such our fortune be ; then " when in. the bosom of the west the weary sun sinks to his rest," may she only wrap the. mantle of faith more closely around her and lie down to peaceful dreams, to awake in the happy beyond. The End. AUG 1 1 1902 AUG 5. ,1902 1902 % &■ m H affi ^ (^ B^Pii