You shall not pity him, for now Yet would that you could stand with me And I forgive you for his sake, As he-if he be forgiven - To-night the cold winds whistle by, Within the prison dead-house, where And I would rather see him thus To-night your home may shine with light And you be smiling as your soul Had done no deadly wrong; Your hand so fair that none will think I'd rather be my comrade dead For yours the sinner's waking dread, And his the martyr's dream! Whom serve we in this life we serve He chose his way, you-yours; let God A BIG MISTAKE. Recently our church has had a new minister. He is a nice, good, sociable gentleman; but having come from a distant State, of course he was totally unacquainted with our people. Therefore, it happened that during his pastoral calls he made several ludicrous blunders. The other evening he called upon Mrs. Hadden. She had just lost her husband, and naturally supposed that his visit was relative to the sad occurrence. So, after a few common-places had been exchanged, she was not at all surprised to hear him remark, "It was a sad bereavement; was it not, Mrs. Hadden? ' 66 "Yes," faltered the widow. "Totally unexpected?" "Oh, yes; I never dreamed of it." "He died in the barn, I suppose?" "Oh, no; in the house." "Ah-well, I suppose you must have thought a great deal of him." ས "Of course, sir,"-this with a vim. The minister looked rather surprised, crossed his legs, and renewed the conversation. Blind staggers was the disease, I believe?" he said. "No, sir," snapped the widow, " apoplexy." "Indeed; you must have fed him too much." "He was always capable of feeding himself, sir." "Very intelligent he must have been. Died hard, didn't he?" 66 'He did." "You had to hit him on the head with an axe to put him out of misery, I was told." Mrs. Hadden's eyes snapped fire. "Whoever told you so did not speak the truth," she haughtily uttered. "James died naturally." 66 Yes," repeated the minister, in a slightly perplexed tone," he kicked the side of the barn down in his last agonies, did he not?" 'No, sir, he didn't." "Well, I have been misinformed, I suppose. How old was he? "Thirty-five." Perhap Then he did not do much active work. you are better without him, for you can easily supply his place with another." "Never, sir-never will I see one as good as he." 66 Oh, yes, you will. He had the heaves bad, you know.' 66 'Nothing of the kind!" "Why, I recollect I saw him, one day, passing along the road, and I distinctly recollect that he had the heaves, and walked as if he had the string-halt." Mrs. Hadden stared at her reverend visitor as if she imagined that he was crazy. "He could never have had the string-halt, for he had a cork leg!" she returned. "A cork leg!-remarkable. But really, now, didn't he have a dangerous trick of suddenly stopping and kicking a wagon all to pieces?" Never; he was not a madman, sir! "Probably not. But there were some good points about him." "I should think so!" "The way in which he carried his ears, for example." "Nobody else ever noticed that particular merit," said the widow, with some asperity; "he was warmhearted, generous and frank!" "Good qualities," answered he unconsciously. "How long did it take him to go a mile?" "About fifteen minutes." "Not much of a goer. Wasn't his hair apt to fly?" "He didn't have any hair. He was bald-headed." "Quite a curiosity?" "No, sir; no more of a curiosity than you are." The minister shifted uneasily, and got red in the face, But he returned to the attack. "Did you use the whip much on him?" Never, sir." 66 "Went right along without it, eh?" Yes." "He must have been a very good sort of a brute?" Mrs. Hadden turned very white and made no reply. The minister did not know what to say, but finally blurted out: "What I most admired about him was the beautiful switch of his tail." The widow just sat down and cried. "The idea of your coming here and insulting me!" she sobbed. "If my husband had lived you wouldn't ha' done it. Your remarks in reference to that poor, dead man have been but a series of insults. I wont stand it." He colored and looked dumbfounded. "Are you not Mrs. Blinkers?" he stammered. "And has not your old grey horse died?" "I never owned a h-horse, but my husband died a w-week ago!" Ten minutes later the minister came out of that house with the reddest face ever seen on a mortal man. "And to think," he groaned, as he strode home, "that I was talking horse to that woman all the time, and she was talking husband." THE IDEAL IS THE REAL-ANN PRESTON, MD. Men take the pure ideals of their souls, And lock them fast away, And never dream that things so beautiful So counterfeits pass current in their lives, Though never yet was pure ideal Too fair for them to make their real. The thoughts of beauty dawning on the soul Are glorious Heaven-gleams, And God's eternal truth lies folded deep In all man's lofty dreams. 'Twas first in thought's clear world that Kepler sav What ties the planets bound, And through long years he searched the spheres and there The answering law he found. Men said he sought a wild ideal, The stars made answer, "It is real!" Paul, Luther, Howard, all the crowned ones Lived boldly out before the clear-eyed sun These truths, to them more beautiful than day, And deeds at which the blinded gazers sneered Till those who mocked their young ideal, Thine early dreams that came in shapes of light Commissioned sweetly to unfurl Thy possible to thee. Fear not to build thine eyrie on the heights, Bright with celestial day; And trust thyself unto thine inmost soul In simple faith alway! And God will make divinely real, The highest forms of thine ideal. LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE-JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay, An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumb away, An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep, An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board an'-keep; An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done, Ef you Don't Watch Out! Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his pray'rs― An' when they turn't the kivvers down he wasn't there at all! |