ayy you don’t mind, and had just as |
u vt eare if you read outloud.”
1” was ell that Rob h eonid say, but his face
f wl but that. won't work any Tonge, and |
Gut made up my mind, ifyou don’t mind, that
ir the second time all that Rob could say was,
’ but, it’ meant a great d deal, and Will knew
For the INSTRUCTOR.
: ‘MILK FOR BABES,
Neves, till during the great blizzard of March, did
= New YOK Féilise how much of its comfort was Bue’ to
the farmers. One may have fine raiment and princely
' homes, but food is more needful than all.
"The twin cities of New York and Brooklyn consume
more than seven hundred and fifty thousand quarts
of milk daily; and to supply this demand, long trains
"of cars are employed solely to carry this milk from
the surrounding counties to the city. When the deep
snow blockaded the highways and by-ways and rail-
roads for three days, a wail went up from thousands
‘of babies for their accustomed diet. And many of
these little innocents are to-day sleeping under the
violets, in consequence of the deprivation. However,
I am not going to tell you about these sad things,
but about how the milk reaches us.
The greater part of it is brought by railroad to
Jersey City, and the milkmen have to cross the ferries
* to bring it to these island cities.
“About 11 o'clock in the evening, they gather, with
their covered wagons, from every direction at the
ferry, and filling the great boat, steam across the
river. They then proceed to the depot to await their
in-coming freight. But the milkmen are not the only
ones waiting. What are these they see sitting, or
walking restlessly about on the long platform?
One, two, three, yes, eleven cats, waiting for the
sweet country milk! They know by experience that
-in the hurry of unloading, some will be spilled; and
these wise Grimalkins “never cry over spilt milk,”
but hurry to eat it up as fast as possible, keeping one
eye on the lookout in the meantime for any stray dog
who might interrupt their feast and cause them to
finish in an undignified manner. ©
Soon the long trains of white cars come e rumbling
into the station, and the cats schmper away in great
‘haste around the corner of the building, only to re-
turn at their leisure, when they hear the clanking of
| the heavy cans as they are lifted;from the cars.
||. The men get their load, and recross, the ferry about |
| 3 o'clock in ‘the ‘morning, and go rattling, at great
. speed; through. the streets of the sleoping city, sup-
plying 1 the: pails and pitchers that.are set out by their
1 custothers, in the basement areas the night before.
Ci Amit grows later, and they gerve the people person-
-ally &t the door, they save time by giving warning of
| their approach by aloud “ki-oep”’ with rising inflec-
fe tion and prolonged emphasis ox the last syllable.
Some of the wagons have pretty names printed on |
| them, suggestive of plessanticountry haunts, such
% “Boho Farm, » "*Claverdale,” » dot van Glen,”
theg ghelf,—
| fomily el lock, 1 as it stax
Each sound of this old
ing to me. About ong ¥
x ately messured off |
hat, our native |
taken with us.
‘By one tick at a ti
at a time, it has num
‘sojourn here. How o
mother wind the cl ock:t}
those inanimate han !
the dial,—have outlived};
died, “this old family
now, as in the stillness
tick, toek; tiek, tock; tick,
«and father. When father
d was: given to me, And
be ‘midnight T listen to the
tock, of the old clock on
Cn array
My heart 1s filled with saitnoss, =
And my eyes are filled With tears,
As I think of home and kindred
“In those long eventful years; :
And like father and my mother,
In those hours of midnight calm; RE
: 1 lie waiting for the morning, . !
."With {ts cool, refreshing balm,
I note the slow, measured beat of the hammer as it
strikes the passing hours, and I wonder if I, too, shall | -
be survived by this old family monitor. With its | ”
continuous tick, tick, like heart beats, it seems some § who hus taught filial piety to my people.
animate and conscious thing. Ifit could speak, what:
a history it could give of hopes and fears, heart-aches. |
and heart-rejoici But the history has not gone |
unobserved; for-there is One whose unerring pen has |
more faithfully written that record than could those |
hands on the clock dig easure off the years. -
J. M. Hopkins.
— R
BovmanD MOTHERS.
SOMETIMES bogs" ‘think mothers are in the way— |’
that they woukd have more liberty if it were mot:
for. their mothers, Mothers have such searching |
eyes—eyes that seem to look right into the heart
especially if there is anything hiding there that:|
mothers should know about; and this is trouble-
some; If. boys would only understand that it is
love that makes the mother's eyes 80 keen, er.
voice. #0 anxious, her questions so séarching—love.
that knows all. the: temptations that may come to,
the anxiety of a Paul Pry, but th
loving guardianship.
give credit to their:mgther for the help and inspira-
tion that made their work possible.
credit to their mothers, they have honored them-
selves; for it proves that as boys they honored her
‘instructions, were guided by her advice, and made a
confidante of her in their hopes and desires. When.
the late President Garfield was inaugurated, the first
person he saluted was his mother, showing plainly
the place she held fn his heart and hislife. =.
The world honors and respects the man who hon-
ors and respects his mother. The neglect of a mother |
stamps & man or boy as heartless, “vag, by hl
ne Resto and. round 1
of a mother. A wise man said,’|
“Hod could not be everywhere, so he made mothers.”
God may seem far off to us sometimes, but there is
mother near, who. wilt lead us back. The wisést and
best men have honored their mothers. Few men who |
have accomplished & special work in the world do not’
In giving this |
tended his mother for ten years. . When she was dead,
“he spoke’ no more of his heart's wish, b until he was.
a man of sixty, titled the farm, carrying his father on
his back to the fields in the morning, and back to the
house at night, that they. might not: be separated a
: “moment.
When he was a grag-haired man, the Emperor sent
1 “to him the medal of merit which is ‘given to those of-
-ficers who have been bravest in war, and caused proc-
lamation to be made: —
“No soldier has served me 1 more faithfully than he
Confucius taught that the highest ‘heroism may be
|-shown tlirough themost commonplace actions. ‘The
divine. Gautama,” says the proverb,’ Be ‘oncein the shape
of a donkey, drew a cart.” SRE
- There is hardly any one who does ot need to learn
this lesson. Every young man or woman of high nat-
ure longs like the Chinese Tso for the chance to show
the noble impulses which fire the soul, in some great
action. But, for.one hero whom the world recognizes,
there are thousands of obscure men plodding through
“their whole lives in work-shops, farms, or offices, and
‘women busy from. childhood to old age, in sewing,
nursing, or washing dishes. They’ think: their lives
are lost; for their labor is only to earn the means of
life. They should remember that Christ was about
“his father’s business when he was subject unto his
“mother and the. carpenter Joseph, as much as when
he stood upon the mouit of trunsfiguration. His
‘whole teathing was ta show us how to illumine poor,
J ‘bare, commonplace lives: with a divine meaning.
a boy, and the. trouble: if there is no wise: confidante |
about! It lg‘not:
“We need no great: opportunities to live nobly,”
BAYS: 8 German writer. = “As the tiniest dew-drop re-
“flects the splendor of the. whole: ‘heavens, so the most
trifling word of aetion may ‘be filled with the truth
and love of God.” - “Even in short measures,” says
Ben Jonson; “lifd may perfect be. no
Ttistrue that no emperor now. ‘sends a golden medal
‘to the gray-haired drudge in the ‘work-shop, or to the
woman bending overs séwing-machine, who are giv-
ing their lives to some unselfieh, ) ‘pure. purpose. Nor
“are they held up like Tao to the admiration of the na-
‘tion. Bub “God,” says a homely’ ‘German ‘proverb,
“4 does” not pay all his wages on’ Setatay Hight. Ve
Youtk's Companion. . :
pia
Iti is & noble and great thing. to cover tho blemishes
and excuse the failings of a friend; to draw a curtain _
before his stains; and to display bis perfections; to
bury his weaknesses in silence, but to proclaim. his
: virtues on 1 the hou top-rBoedh.