'Twas this way-ha! ha! ha! it makes me laugh down till to-day,

To think o' that there time I reg'lar give myself away.

You see, Sis' Mary's house was full o' gals and beaux that

come

To Sary Ella's weddin', and I knowed there wasn't room For me, and so I says to Sis' "Don't bother, I'm as well Away from all the fussin'; I'll go to a hotel,

But to-morrow I'm on hand to see a weddin' in New York." That's how that leetle hotel kid he got in his work.

Says Sis' Mary, "Dan," says she, "you've got a pile o' notes In them there trousey's pockets, and there's always lots o' shoats

A-goin' 'bout in New York to fleece the men like you;
So look out, and be keerful, Dan, of everything you do."
"Ho! Ho!" says I, "Sis' Mary, I'm up to all that game;
We've bunco-steerers West as well, and all their ways is

lame.

I've got a good six-shooter in this hip o' mine, my dear,
And the bunco man that tackles me-

no fear;

Well, don't you have

A man that knows the West I guess can take keer o' New

York."

And yet that leetle hotel kid he got in his work.

Well, I went into a big hotel, all glass and marble stone, And a gent with a big di'mond pin he says, in this here tone,

"Number a thousand seventy-two, nine flights up, and back, Press the button." But I looked at him; I hadn't got the

knack

of finding out what buttons meant, or what they had to do With me a-gittin' up nine flights to a thousand seventy-two. But a gent that laughed he touched a spot up there on the

wall,

And I heerd a wheezy-queezy sound that jest did beat 'em all, And then an iron door opened in a leetle room all darkAnd then that thin small hotel kid he got in his work.

For a leetle small thin kid stood there and asked me to come in.

I done it, and bang went the door, and land o' mortal sin! The hull room riz up in the air, and dark as pitch it was. "Ho! Ho!" says I, "Sis' Mary was right." I jest got free

my paws

By droppin' my old satchel; and reachin' for my hip,
I got out my six-shooter, and I hollers, "Let her rip!

I'm game for bunco-steerers, and they're game for me as well;
The man that thinks he'll sell me I kinder think I'il sell;
You needn't swing your old room up, terry firmy'll do;
You alleyblaster image of a kid, now what ails you?"
And I put the muzzle 'gin the head o' that there leetle kid;
He yelled out bloody murder, and down head-fust he slid;
And all the time that dark room riz up and up, and me
Even with the bunco gang that run that hotel. See?
Says I to that thin screechin' kid, “Let her down, pard, do,
Let her down. These leetle games I'm kinder seein'
through."

And then there comes a bang, a smash, and that room was let down,

The kid a-screechin' in a fit, and I guess half the town
Standin' in the entry. I held my shooter out,

And told 'em I seen through 'em. At that they give a shout,
And said the room it wa'n't no room, but an elevator that
Took the place o' stairs and whizzed you clean up to the flat,
And - But I guess that's all. And that's how in New York-
Ha! Ha!—that leetle hotel kid he got in his work.

-

THE BLESSING OF SONG.

"What a friend we have in Jesus"
Sang a little child, one day;
And a weary woman listened
To the darling's happy lay.

All her life seemed dark and gloomy,
And her heart was sad with care:

Sweetly sang out baby's treble:

"All our sins and griefs to bear."

She was pointing out the Saviour
Who could carry every woe;
And the one who sadly listened
Needed that dear Helper so!

Sin and grief were heavy burdens
For a fainting soul to bear-
But the baby, singing, bade her
"Take it to the Lord in prayer."

With a simple, trusting spirit,

Weak and worn, she turned to God
Asking Christ to take her burden,
As He was the sinner's Lord.

Jesus was the only refuge,

He could take her sin and care,
And he blessed the weary woman
When she came to him in prayer.

And the happy child still singing,
Little knew she had a part
In God's wondrous work of bringing
Peace into a troubled heart.

MY COUNTRY.-LOUIS S. AMONSON.

Arise, oh, my country! Arise in thy glory,
And tell to all races thy inission sublime;
Let poets and sages embellish thy story
In letters of gold on the pages of time.

Ring out the glad tidings of freedom forever
To nations still bound in the bonds of the slave,
And waken the laggards in one more endeavor
To follow the path of the free and the brave.

Peal forth the grand summons from tower and steeple,
Till every land with the message has rung,
That freedom is born in the hearts of our people,
And liberty lies in our sweet mother tongue.

All races will listen-thy people most proudly,
As patriotism in power awakes.

Arrayed in thy splendor then speak it out loudly,
Till every fetter of tyranny breaks.

Where millions languish thy refuge then lend them,
And to thy loosed masses thy liberties teach;
But while thou dost grandly a welcome extend them,
Hold fast to thy Sabbath, thy school and thy speech.
Ring out thy traditions from mountain to ocean,
That all of thy children remember the tale;
Inspire them with patriotism's devotion,

That foreign dominion may never prevail.

Speak out, oh, my country! The great God defend the
Thy people, thy language, thy sweet liberty!
Unfuri, starry banner! Our God will befriend thee--
The hope of the ages, the sign of the free.

TO THE PALACE OF THE KING.*-S. JENNIE SMITH.

Main road supposed to branch off into several side roads. Al characters wear flowing robes of cheese-cloth; King's daughters, white; Doubt, gray; Self-sufficiency, blue; Worldliness, bright red; and Scorn, deep yellow. Names on sash or crown.

Enter King's Daughters.

No. 1. I wonder if this can be the right path. My mind is filled with doubts. Let us try another, dear sister, for it seems to me there must be more than one way leading to our Father's mansion. Hundreds are going in that direction, and hundreds in this; they have cried out to us to follow them, and must we go straight ahead, ignoring their invitation? Suppose we follow the multitude for awhile, and perhaps we shall then be able to decide which is the right road to travel.

No. 2. I have already decided. There is but one way leading to the King's house, and that is this path of love and faith in which we are walking. If we turn aside either to the right or to the left, we shall find our way gradually diverging from this one until we are so far in the wrong direction that we shall lose ourselves in the mazes of temptation and sin, Hark to the voices of our sisters who are in advance of us.

Invisible chorus sings: "O Brother, Life's Journey Beginning," found in Gospel Hymns, No. 5; the word sister used instead of brother.

No. 1. It almost seems like a warning, yet we could retrace our steps if we found that we were wrong.

No. 2. But think of the time wasted in going and return-· ing. Many a child has shed bitter tears of repentance over time thus thrown away. Besides, dear one, it is far easier

to do wrong than to undo it.

When once you start down

*Written expressly for this Collection. A beautiful dialogue for Sunday Schools, entitled "The Journey of Life," in No. 29, and "The Village Scare," in No. 28, are by the same author, as well as several excellent Irish Dialect Recitations in previous Numbers of this Series.

hill you go with a swiftness that is alarming, but the jour ney up again, oh! how different!

No. 1. How are we to know that these other paths lead downward? I am aware that Destruction lurks at the bottom of the hill, ever ready to seize the unwary, but I should be vigilant, and when I caught even a glimpse of him, I should turn in haste.

No. 2. It is unsafe to wait for that glimpse. You do not know that you would have strength to return. Come, let us go on our way, for delays are dangerous to all those who would reach the Palace of the King. What! holding back still? Why are you dissatisfied, sweet sister? We have traveled this path hand in hand for many hours, and thus far have found in it naught, but peace and happiness.

No. 1. I am afraid I must leave you. I have seen Doubt and she has promised to bear me company. Together we will investigate these other roads, and if I discover that she is wrong, I will return to you. Farewell, for I see her coming now. I am filled with sorrow at thought of parting from you, but Doubt is beckoning, and I feel compelled to obey her call.

Enter Doubt.

DOUBT. Are you ready, dear child? Come, let us hasten on our way, for I have much to say to you. You have been walking in darkness, but I will lead you into light.

No. 2. (holding out a Bible.) Sister, here are the King's directions. Read what he says in regard to our journey thither.

No. 1, stands hesitating between doubt and her sister.

DOUBг. You do not know that those directions were written by your Father. How can you believe what you did not witness with your own eyes?

No. 2. My heart tells me the truth. Besides, I know that they are the King's rules, because they are the best that could be made for any of his children who would reach the Kingdom in safety. Above all, I know they are my Father's directions, for no other could understand our needs and shortcomings as He does, and, therefore, no one else could have written the directions that we require. DOUBT. (taking the hand of No. 1.) Come, child, turn aside to this path with me.