CHAPTER VIII.

Next morning the old woman had them up early, for she wanted to use

their beds, and gave them some breakfast, consisting of very good

coffee, without milk, fried plantains, very nice white bread from the

baker's next door, and to each a little relish of salt bacon, which did

instead of butter.

It was evident that this repast was considered a great treat by both

Diego and his aunt. When they had finished, the latter said:

"Now, Diego, if you and your friend will take a basket of washed clothes

over into the city, to the hotel for which I work, you will do me a

favor."

"Why not?" answered Diego, who then explained to Lee what was wanted.

The old woman soon had the large, square basket packed and covered with

a clean checked cloth, and then said:

"Here, Diego, take these coppers for the ferry-boat, and here are the

lists and the bills. You will get the money and bring it back to me."

The boys set off at once, crossing the bay to the city in the balmy

clear, tropical morning, so charming before the sun gains its full

power, and having a long trudge before they came to their destination.

In this neighborhood Lee saw a very different state of things from that

at Regla. They passed a great square, planted with palms and flowering

plants, such as he had only seen in pictures heretofore. Then there were

long ranges of public buildings and grand houses, with sentry-boxes in

front of them, and sentinels pacing to and fro.

They also met frequently battalions and companies of troops, going to

relieve guard or returning from early parade, stepping out briskly over

the clean-swept pavements to lively airs played by the bands.

Everything, at that hour, was life and bustle, for most of the business

of the day is done in the early morning, that people may have time to

take the "siesta" during the hot hours.

All these strange sights seemed to divert Lee's thoughts from the heavy

basket which they were carrying, and he was still staring about when

Diego stopped before a large, low, two-storied building, with a great

arched entrance into a court-yard, around the four sides of which the

building extended. Above the arch hung a sign, with "Hotel de los

Estados Unidos," painted upon it.

"Well, I know what _that_ sign means," said Lee; "and it's the first one

I've seen which I _did_ understand."

"Yes, here we are at last," replied Diego.

And they turned in and came out in the large court-yard, which presented

quite an animated appearance.

A fountain was playing in the middle, surrounded by orange trees,

bananas and flowering plants, in great green tubs. All around, the doors

of sleeping rooms opened upon the court, while above, another set of

doors opened upon a balcony, which was reached by steps below.

On the pavement of stone were many little tables, at which gentlemen and

ladies were taking breakfast, and waiters in white jackets were bustling

about and supplying their wants.

On the left, as the boys entered, was an office, with a half door and a

shelf upon it, from which a clerk hailed them:

"_Hi, muchachos, qui quiere?_" (What do you want, you boys?)

"The clothes, senor," answered Diego, in reply, pointing to the basket,

which they had deposited on the flagstones.

"Ah, that's all right! Are they from Dolores? There's a gentleman here

who has inquired half a dozen times already about his clean things. He

wants to leave to-day."

"What's his name? I have the lists here."

"What _is_ his name? I never _can_ remember these English and American

names. But here he comes himself."

As he spoke, a tall, fine-looking man, of about forty, with light hair

and complexion and wearing gold spectacles, came hurrying in from the

street.

"Now, then, senor," said he, addressing the clerk, "are those my things?

All right. Take them to my room, No. 17, on the balcony. The steamer

sails for Ruatan this afternoon, before sunset, and I must send my

baggage on board at once. Where is the servant you promised to engage

for me?"

"Senor, the young man I hoped to get will not go on such an expedition

as yours, and has backed out, at the last moment, after promising me he

would be ready."

Lee and Diego both pricked up their ears at the word "expedition," and

Diego took off his cap and said:

"Where might the gentleman be going?"

"I'm going to make some explorations, and to try to find some ruined

cities in Central America. Not an easy task, for their situation is not

precisely known, and many have been baffled in trying to find them. I

want a young man who is a good traveler and handy, and who speaks both

Spanish and English, so that he can act as an interpreter."

"But just where are you going, sir?"

"Why, to Ruatan, first--where I shall get my outfit, and engage some

canoe hands and a cook; and then to Truxillo, for more precise

information. I may go up the River Maugualil, or some other stream. It

will depend upon what I hear."

Diego and Lee looked at each other as much as to say, "Why wouldn't we

do? We must do something, and that at once; and here is a chance for

travel and adventure, too."

Lee even forgot his design of returning North, and said to the

gentleman:

"I am an American, sir, willing and strong, and ready for anything which

will give me an honest living and a chance to see something new; and my

friend here speaks Spanish, for it is his native tongue--and also

English well enough. If you'll take us both, there is nothing to prevent

us from going, for we have left our vessel."

The gentleman looked closely at their faces, and then answered:

"I don't see why I shouldn't try you--especially as I can't get any one

else," he added to himself. "My name is Higley, and I am a professor in

Coryale College. I have been sent out for the purpose I have told you,

and expect to be gone from here for seven or eight months, or perhaps a

year. Now, who are you?"

Lee told him their story, and the professor said, when he had finished:

"Very well, then. If you have no one from whom to get permission, I will

trust you without reference. I expected to pay a faithful and competent

man, who was willing to go with me, and encounter any danger or

privations which we may meet, fifty dollars a month; and of course he

would live the same as myself. Now, I'm willing to divide that sum

between you two lads, if you do well and earn it."

This offer sounded very large to Diego and Lee, who neither of them had

a copper of their own, especially when the excitement of discovery and

adventure was to be thrown in, and they closed with Professor Higley's

offer immediately, only stipulating that they were to go back to take

old Aunt Dolores her money and bid her good-by.

"Well, go; but be sure to be back here by three o'clock at the latest,

or I shall conclude you've changed your minds."

"Ah, it is settled at last," said the Spanish clerk. "Now that the

gentleman has been suited, he will leave me in peace to smoke my cigar.

These Americans and English have no idea of quiet, but must always be on

the go," he mumbled to himself, as he turned into his darkened retreat.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

PLANTS IN A ROOM.

There is a widespread belief that the presence of growing plants and cut

flowers in a room is in some way prejudicial to those who sleep therein.

This belief is probably due to the fact, learned at school, that plants

give off at night carbonic acid, which is known to be deleterious to

health.

A recent writer has published the results of some experiments made in a

closed green-house, showing how fanciful are these fears. In this

green-house there were 6000 growing plants, and the average of three

experiments made early on three different mornings after the place had

been closed for more than twelve hours exhibited only 4.03 parts of

carbonic acid per 10,000.

We can judge by this experiment that from one or two plants the quantity

of gas given off must be far too small for recognition, and certainly

many hundred times less than that formed by a burning taper or given off

by one pair of lungs.

A CORNER IN ALLIGATORS.

by GEORGE ETHELBERT WALSH.

"'Gator hides worth three dollars, and big ones four. That's our game,

Jed, and we'll make enough in 'gator hunting to get that pony."

"You bet, for there's plenty of 'em down in Loon Lake--big ones, too."

"We'll have a regular corner in 'em. Come, let's get off."

The two young Southern hunters felt as if they had already captured a

small fortune, and Stam--short for Stamford--made a rush for the house.

"Where's my gun? It's never in its place. Mother," raising his voice, "I

can't find my gun anywhere. It's so provoking! Have you taken it?"

"And my game-bag is gone," echoed Jed, in an irritable voice. "We're in

such a hurry, too."

"It's money out of pocket standing here looking for these plaguey

things."

"Well, boys," replied Mrs. Fellows, appearing on the scene, "you have no

one to blame but yourself. Nobody has touched your things, and they are

just where you left them."

"Where is that?"

"You ought not to be told. You should be made to look for them."

"Oh, please tell us, mother, for we're in such a hurry."

"'Gator skins are selling high now," added Stam, opening his eyes, "and

we know where we can get some big ones."

"That's no reason why you shouldn't be made to find your things. You

must be cured of your careless habits in some way. This is a good time

to begin."

"Oh, don't lecture us now, mother. Do it when we come back."

"Please tell us where we can find the gun and game-bag," pleaded Jed,

putting an arm around his mother's waist.

Mrs. Fellows could not resist this appeal, and she directed the boys to

the wood-shed, where they found the desired gun and game-bag standing

near a pile of wood. The boys had left them there two days before after

returning from a hunt, and the gun was somewhat the worse for rust and

exposure.

Down by Loon Lake the great saurians were basking themselves in the hot

sun, and the appearance of the boys among them made a slight disturbance

along the edges of the water.

"These are only small ones," whispered Jed, with contempt. "We want some

big four-dollar hides. Snag Creek's the place for them. The big fellows

always hang out there."

The young hunters paddled their small skiff rapidly around the edge of

the clear-water lake, and then shoved her gently up a narrow, muddy

creek.

Enormous cypress trees lined either bank, and scores of buzzards were

perched on the dead branches, watching the solitary skiff glide through

the water. The buzzards seemed to know that they were protected by law,

and they did not deign to jump from their roosts.

At the end of the creek was a smaller lake, or rather a small muddy

pond, in the centre of which was an island which nearly touched the

mainland at one end. Between this island and the land the big alligators

basked in numbers, and Jed truthfully exclaimed, as he caught sight of

the saurians:

"We've got a regular corner in 'em, sure! We'll land and pelt 'em like

fun!"

The boys had only one gun between them, but they were both so excited

that they enjoyed the anticipated sport as much as if each held one of

the deadly weapons in his hand.

As the skiff touched the island, they leaped out of it together. Stam

hurried up to a huge alligator and took deliberate aim before pulling

the trigger; but, to his chagrin, the alligator still blinked at him

after the hammer struck the cap.

The gun was so rusty from its two days' exposure that it refused to go

off. Several caps were exploded with the same unsatisfactory result.

The boys began to worry and fume while the alligator eyed them

menacingly.

Stam took the ramrod out and began to draw the load, but, before he

could succeed, the alligator became aggressive. He winked at his

comrades, snapped his jaws, and then waddled toward the young hunters.

"Look out!" Jed screamed, "he's coming for you! Get in the boat and draw

the load there."

Both boys turned and ran for the skiff, but there was no skiff to be

had. In the excitement they had jumped out of the boat and left it

without securing it in any way, and the skiff had quietly drifted off.

The two boys were in a great predicament, and their fun gave place to

fear.

"We're in for it now, Stam," gasped Jed.

"We'll have to swim ashore."

"We can't do that unless we get on the other side of the island. There

are too many snags on this side. We'd get caught in them."

The boys walked around their narrow prison, and tried to frighten the

alligators away; but they were unsuccessful in this attempt. Two or

three curious alligators crawled up on the land to ascertain the cause

of the alarm.

The boys set up a shouting, and threw sticks at the saurians; but the

more noise they made, the more alligators assembled around the island.

The backs and heads of several big ones could be seen swimming toward

them from the adjacent shores.

Evidently the creatures knew intuitively that a feast was ahead of them,

and each one was getting ready for his share.

"Oh, if this gun would go off!" groaned Stam.

"And if we had thought to tie that skiff," sighed Jed.

"It's all our fault; we were so careless."

"I'll never be so thoughtless again if I ever get out of this."

"But we can't. We'll be eaten up in less than half an hour. Oh, dear!"

The battle now actually began. The boys were forced to the extreme end

of the island, and they had to fight or take to the water. Behind them

was an enormous alligator--larger than any other two. The big fellow was

floating about motionless, with more than half of his body out of water,

and he seemed to think that he was sufficient guard for that side of the

island.

The two hunters clubbed the approaching enemies and retreated gradually

into the water. At first they almost cried in their terror, but, as they

warmed up to their work, they felt that everything depended on their

bravery. Stam used the butt end of his gun, while Jed swung a heavy club

effectively.

But there was no fighting such determined enemies successfully. The boys

had to jump around lively to escape the snapping jaws and thrashing

tails.

At last they found themselves in water knee deep, with the alligators

close upon them.

"It's no use," gasped Jed, throwing away his club. "Swim for your life.

Make direct for the shore."

"I don't believe I have strength enough left," replied Stam, who was

nearly exhausted in swinging the heavy gun.

"Well, keep together, and we'll die helping each other."

With this noble resolve the brothers ran out into the water as far as

they could and then swam for dear life; but between them and the shore

was the huge alligator guarding that side.

Before they were aware of their danger the boys were nearly upon the

great saurian.

"We're lost!" whispered Jed.

"Ugh!"

The last exclamation was made by Stam, as the long tail of the alligator

rubbed against his side. Both boys expected to see it swish through the

water the next moment and dash the life out of them, but it did not

move. Stam took a hold of it and twisted it viciously.

The alligator did not resent this familiarity, but was as motionless as

ever.

"He's asleep!" Jed whispered. "We can get by him yet."

"No, he's dead," shouted Stam, "and he'll have to carry us ashore."

It took the brothers only an instant to realize their good fortune. The

alligator was only the dead carcass of a big bull 'gator, which the sun

had swollen and distended. It was so light that it could almost carry a

man on its back without sinking. The boys threw an arm over either side

of the carcass, and then with the other they began to paddle for dear

life.

The pursuing alligators were close upon them, but, with their strange

support, they easily held their own in the race.

They reached the bank in time, and, leaving the dead 'gator in the

shallow water, they staggered up in the woods to a place of safety.

When they recovered their breath and strength they began a search for

their boat, which they found at length drifting close into the shore.

Then they returned to the scene of their battle and recovered their gun.

When they started home they towed with them the carcass of the alligator

which had saved their lives.

Their corner in alligators was over with, and ever afterward they took

good care to see that they were not cornered before they counted their

gains in cornering the market in 'gator skins.

As Jed expressed it:

"We've got to get over our careless ways, if we're going to do anything

with these 'gators. They don't make any allowances for forgetfulness, as

mother does, _and perhaps she shouldn't, either_."

* * * * *

--"Decide not rashly. The decision made

Can never be recalled. The gods implore not,

Plead not, solicit not; they only offer

Choice and occasion, which once being past

Return no more." _--Longfellow._

INTERNATIONAL LESSON--FOR JAN. 11.

I Kings 12: 25-33.

Subject--Idolatry in Israel.

by REV.G. E. STROBRIDGE, D.D.

GOLDEN TEXT.

"Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image" (Exod. 20:4).

INTRODUCTION.

Jeroboam reigned twenty-two years, beginning in the year 975 B.C. The

extent of his territory was larger than that of the kingdom of Judah,

over which Rehoboam ruled after the division. Jeroboam's portion, called

the Kingdom of Israel, and comprising the northern portion of the land,

was about the size of the State of New Hampshire.

Rehoboam first made an attempt to recover the allegiance of the revolted

tribes, and sent his representative to take tribute from them, but he

was promptly killed. Rehoboam then made preparations for war; but he

was admonished to pursue this course no longer by the prophet Shemiah

(1 Kings 12: 21-24).

Rehoboam then turned his attention entirely to his own kingdom, and for

three years left off his former wild and sinful ways, and seemed to give

promise of becoming a good monarch (2 Chron. 11: 17). He busied himself

in fortifying his kingdom by a circuit of fifteen walled cities, thus

protecting it on the south and west.

Three years of this devotion to a wise care of his kingdom was about all

this young man could stand, and he went back to his dissolute ways, and

the bad blood of his heathen mother manifested itself.

Continuing thus for two years, he was then attacked by Shishak, the King

of Egypt, who was a friend of Jeroboam. Judah was invaded, and the

thousand shields of gold which Solomon had made for the display of his

wealth and power, and other treasures of the temple, were carried off.

These shields Rehoboam replaced with shields of brass.

There was a war, on a larger or smaller scale, all the time between the

two kingdoms, until in the reign of Abijah, the son of Rehoboam,

Jeroboam was severely punished by an overwhelming defeat.

JEROBOAM'S FORTIFICATIONS.

"Then Jeroboam built Shechem in Mount Ephraim, and dwelt therein;

and went out from thence, and built Penuel."

Jeroboam did not build Shechem. There had been a town there from the

earliest times, but the meaning is that he rebuilt it, enlarged it,

beautified it, and made it the capital city.

It was especially adapted for this, as it was right in the centre of the

territory of the ten tribes and the leader of the revolt. It was the

most ancient sanctuary in the land, and the ancestors of the Israelites

had worshiped there long before they became a nation.

In 1 Kings 14: 17, we are informed that after a time Jeroboam left

Shechem, and set up his capital in Tirzah, where he built a palace and

other buildings on so grand a scale that the place became even a rival

of Jerusalem (Sol. Song 6: 4).

After having established himself in Shechem, he began to give attention

to the outlying territory, and, in order to protect it, he built a

fortification at Penuel. The name of this place means "the face of God."

It received this name from the meeting here of Jacob with the angel, and

his wrestling with the angel (Gen. 32: 24-32). It is located on a little

stream called Jabbok, and is twenty miles east of the Jordan. It was an

important point, as it was situated on the road over which all the

caravans passed first to Damascus and then on east to the countries of

Babylon and Nineveh.

A fortress here would defend the kingdom of Israel from the attacks of

Assyria on the east and north, and from Judah on the south.

THE KING'S APPREHENSION.

"And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now shall the kingdom return to the

house of David.

"If this people go up to do sacrifice in the house of the Lord at

Jerusalem, then shall the heart of this people turn again unto their

lord, even unto Rehoboam, King of Judah, and they shall kill me, and

go again to Rehoboam, king of Judah."

Now that Jeroboam is king, his troubles begin. Having settled the matter

of protection against invasion by the building of the strongholds as

just noticed, a more serious danger arose before him. It would seem that

the people had no thought when they separated from the government of

Rehoboam that they would also give up their religion. It was expected

that Jerusalem should be still the religious capital, and the temple the

place for all the people of both nations to worship.

But Jeroboam reasoned with himself that if the people of his kingdom

went up to Jerusalem three times a year, as the law directed (Deut. 16:

16), to worship there, they would by this become alienated from him as

their ruler, would learn to reverence the king who was of David's line

as more rightfully their sovereign, and the result would be not only

that they might change, such was the fickle temper of people in the

east, but they might expel him and perhaps take his life.

It was a very natural course of reasoning, but he should have trusted in

God. In I Kings 11: 38, the promise had been expressly made to him that

on condition of his obedience, he should be protected and his throne

should be firmly established. But he forgets this and goes on in the

foolish fashion of all doubt and unbelief.

FALSE GODS SET UP.

"Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold, and

said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem; behold

thy gods, oh, Israel, which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt,

"And he set the one in Bethel, and the other put he in Dan."

He reasoned that if there were to be two kingdoms, there must also be

two religions: at least, the citizens of one kingdom should not get

their religion from the worship and service held in another kingdom. On

the face of it this looked like the very essence of wisdom. It was

worldly wisdom, but it was religious folly because it was putting policy

above principle.

After he had thought this matter over for some time, Jeroboam took some

of his friends and counselers into the secret of his reflections, and

they agreed with him. Thereupon he proceeded to establish home rule in

religion as in everything else, and his whole course is an exhibition of

great shrewdness. It is a pity that so bright an intellect had not been

united with a better heart.

He set up objects of worship and established shrines for them at two

places in his kingdom, Bethel and Dan.

Bethel was located in the tribe of Benjamin's territory, but had been

taken as part of the land embraced in the revolt of the ten tribes. The

name meant the house of God, and was so called by Jacob at the time of

his vision (Gen. 28: 11-19.)

As long ago as Abraham's time, an altar had been built here (Gen.

12: 8.) Samuel had also judged Israel here (1 Sam. 7: 16.) It was,

therefore, shrewdly selected, for the people of those days were readily

and deeply impressed with the sacred associations of places, especially

old places.

The other place, Dan, was in the extreme northern part of the land, so

that the expression from Dan to Beersheba means from one end of the land

to the other, north to south.

There was no city here at this time, but at a spot about four miles from

where the city of Dan was afterwards located, there is a remarkable cave

in one of the ridges at the base of Mount Hermon. This cave had been a

sanctuary or place of worship from the earliest times (Gen. 14: 14.)

Having thus selected the localities, Jeroboam set up there the objects

for their worship. It was not his intention so much, perhaps, to teach

the people the worship of images--he would hardly have ventured to do

that in its bald form--but it was his intention that these calves or

oxen should be the symbols representing the presence of God just as the

ark and the cherubim did in the temple.

They were made of wood and covered with plates of gold. The ox was an

old object of worship. Aaron had set it up in the wilderness, and

Jeroboam used almost the very words of Aaron so long before (Ex. 32: 4).

The Israelites were made familiar with this image in the decorations of

the temple of Solomon, including colossal cherubim. Also the great

molten sea of brass was supported upon oxen of the same material.

THE DAMAGING RESULTS.

"And this thing became a sin: for the people went to worship before

the one, even unto Dan.

"And he made a house of high places, and made priests of the lowest

of the people, which were not of the sons of Levi."

It was hardly to be expected that any other result than that of sin

would come from this course. It was, to begin with, a violation of the

second commandment, and if Jeroboam did not intend to teach Israel the

worship of false gods, this was the result of it, and repeatedly he is

spoken of in the Scriptures as the one that did cause Israel to sin.

So completely were the people carried away with this bad current, that

they preferred to get as far away from Jerusalem as possible, and went

even to Dan to engage in their idolatrous practices.

At both these places where he had set up the calves, he built houses for

them. Originally and commonly houses of worship were built upon high

places, so that this expression "high places" came to be a description

of the house itself.

It is not a fortunate translation to state that Jeroboam made priests

of the lowest class of the people. It would have been poor policy, and

would have brought his movement into disrepute.

The literal rendering of the Hebrew is "from the ends of the people,"

and means, as in the Revised Version, "from all the people."

Jeroboam would have been glad to have the priestly tribe, Levi, furnish

him his priests, but they were loyal to God and the true worship and

would not assist the king in his schism, so he had to get priests where

he could from all the people and from any tribe.

In 2 Chron. 11: 13 it is said that the Levites in a body went over to

Rehoboam. This greatly strengthened the king of Judah and tended to keep

the religion of that part of the people pure.

NEW FEASTS APPOINTED.

"And Jeroboam ordained a feast in the eighth month, on the fifteenth

day of the month, like unto the feast that is In Judah, and he

offered upon the altar. So did he in Bethel, sacrificing unto the

calves that he had made: and he placed in Bethel the priests of the

high places which he had made.

"So he offered upon the altar which he had made in Bethel the

fifteenth day of the eighth month, even in the month which he had

devised of his own heart; and ordained a feast unto the children of

Israel: and he offered upon the altar, and burnt incense."

Jeroboam was the more anxious to get his religious enterprises

established because the time for the feast of the tabernacles was coming

on and many of his people would be going up to Jerusalem.

He therefore, as a part of his scheme, very shrewdly appointed a counter

feast, putting it on the same day of the month, the fifteenth, because

that was the time of the full moon, but he changed the month.

The right time was the seventh month, corresponding with our October and

November, and it was the most joyous of all the festivals celebrating

the gathering of the harvest.

He could plead a good reason for putting his feast a month later,

because the harvest was slower ripening in the northern part of the

kingdom than in the southern, and the change of time would be an

accommodation. The law fixing the seventh month is given (Lev. 23:

34, 39, 41).

At this feast Jeroboam himself approached the altar and served as a

priest. He did this doubtless for two reasons--1, To give the royal

sanction to the new religion; and 2, To show that he considered himself

the religious as well as the civil head of the nation.

LESSONS.

1. Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. Jeroboam

forgot this rule and put the improvement and fortifying of his kingdom

first--his secular affairs--and as a result made a fatal mistake.

2. How long and far a sin reaches! Solomon's idolatry bears fruit in the

breaking up of the nation and the lapse of half of it into heathenism.

What a disappointment to God, who had done and borne so much for this

people!

3. Jeroboam needed to have no fear about the perpetuity of his kingdom.

He had an express promise from God. (1 Kings 11: 38.) But his faith in

God's word failed, and hence he sinned. Thus sin is always the fruit of

unbelief.

4. Jeroboam also put policy before principle; for the sake of temporary

success he turned aside from the strictly right course. This is always

wrong, and because wrong is unsafe. Fasten the lesson deep in your

heart; never for the sake of any apparent advantage depart in the least

from the truth as conscience and God's Word shall make it known to you.

5. It is said in the lesson that Jeroboam devised of his own heart these

religious departures which he forced upon the people. Here was another

feature of his sin--that he presumed to depart from the explicit

directions that God had laid down as to the times, places and manner of

His worship, and gave the people instead inventions of his own. To say

the least, he had no business to do this, and he exposed himself to the

curse that comes upon those who take from or add to God's Word.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

"On mission ground there was once a prayer meeting held in an idol

temple. A lamp was placed in the hands or lap of each idol around

the room, so that the idols themselves held the light by which the

true God was worshiped. So the sins of Jeroboam may light us to

heaven." --_Peloubet._

"Judge a religion by its god. Judge a people by the kind of god

that will satisfy them. If a calf will do, what must be their

intelligence? If nature will do, what must be their emotion? If

science will do, what must be their moral sense? The Christian

religion pays the highest tribute to human intelligence. It calls

men to a God, infinite in every perfection." --_Joseph Parker._

"It has been remarked that the two tribes in whose inheritance

the calves stood are not found among the number of the sealed in

Revelations. The names of Ephraim and Dan are missing from that

list." --_Waller._

* * * * *

"Oh, God, our strength! to Thee our song,

With grateful hearts we raise;

To Thee, and Thee alone, belong

All worship, love and praise.

"And Thou, Oh, ever gracious Lord!

Wilt keep Thy promise still,

If, meekly hearkening to Thy word,

We seek to do Thy will.

"Led by the light Thy grace imparts,

Ne'er may we bow the knee

To idols, which our wayward hearts

Set up instead of Thee." --_Harriet Auber._

SIDNEY'S GOOD INTENTIONS.

(_A New Year's Story._)

by FLORENCE HALLOWELL.

[Illustration]

"Sidney, did you leave that note at Mrs. Flynn's yesterday?" asked Mrs.

Dent, as her eldest son came hurriedly into the sitting-room to get the

pocket-knife which he had left on the table. "She hasn't come, and I

don't know what I am going to do about the washing. Nora's arm is still

so lame that she must not attempt to use it."

"Oh, mother, I am so sorry!" and Sidney looked mortified and contrite.

"I fully intended to leave the note, but--"

"You forgot all about it," finished his sister Fannie, who was sewing at

one of the front windows. "Of course! Mother ought to have known she

couldn't trust you. Your intentions are always good, but that is as far

as you go."

"It is a great deal easier to _intend_ to do a thing than to do

it--everybody knows that," said Clara, a girl of twelve, who had put

down her book as her brother came in. "I suppose as long as we live

we'll have to hear Sidney say, 'I fully intended.' I don't expect

anything else."

And she laughed.

"I can't help being forgetful," said Sidney.

"Perhaps not," said his mother; "but you could go a long way toward

carrying out your good intentions if you would only do promptly whatever

is given you to do."

"I will go to Mrs. Flynn's now," said Sidney. "She can get here by ten

o'clock, anyway."

"Very well," said his mother. "The sooner you see her, the better it

will be for the washing. This winter sun will not last long."

Sidney went out, and, hurrying on his overcoat and cap, was soon on the

way to the cottage of Mrs. Flynn.

He felt a little depressed, for the remarks of his sisters had hurt his

feelings a good deal.

He wondered, as he walked briskly along, if Fannie and Clara never

forgot anything.

Next to Mrs. Flynn's was a small, brown cottage a good deal in want of

repairs. It had needed a coat of paint for many a year, and some of the

blinds were broken. But at the window was a very pretty little girl,

with golden curls, and Sidney paused a minute to nod and smile at her.

He knew her quite well, for she was sister to one of the junior clerks

in his father's warehouse.

The child smiled in return, and looked into the rear of the room, saying

something Sidney could not hear. But a moment later the head of a pale,

sad-faced woman appeared above that of the little girl.

She bowed to Sidney and then moved quickly away.

"How ill Mrs. Stewart looks!" thought kind-hearted Sidney. "I imagine

Christmas did not bring many good things to _this_ house. I remember now

that I fully intended to send little Mabel a doll; but--"

And then he stopped and blushed hotly. _Another_ good intention never

carried out.

Fortunately, he found Mrs. Flynn in, and she promised to go to his

mother at once. So he walked away, feeling that he had done his best to

repair the neglect of the previous day.

His next stopping-place was his father's office, which was a room built

on to the warehouse, and communicating with it by a single door.

There was another door which opened on to a side alley, and was kept

always locked. It was the door used exclusively by his father for

entrance and exit. But Sidney was a privileged person, and had been

allowed a pass-key. So he entered the office now without having to go

through the busy warehouse.

He was disappointed to find the room empty. His father had promised to

give him some money to buy powder, shot and caps for the new gun he had

received on Christmas Day, and, like all boys, he felt that time was

very precious when he was going to buy anything of that sort.

"Now I suppose I've got to wait," he soliloquized, as he threw himself

into the swivel-chair in front of his father's desk. "It'll be noon

before I get a chance to try the gun, I dare say."

He played with a paper-cutter at first; but soon his attention was

attracted by a letter on the desk, the superscription of which was in a

familiar hand.

He picked it up at once, for his Aunt Susan Dent's letters were always

public property at home. His father never failed to bring them home and

read them aloud at the supper-table. So Sidney drew this letter from the

envelope without hesitation.

He had always received a five-dollar bill every Christmas from his aunt,

but this year the day had come and gone without the customary present,

and he gave an exclamation of joy when, on unfolding the letter, a

five-dollar bill fell out.

"For me, of course. Better late than never," muttered Sidney, as he

hastily glanced over the letter.

Yes, his aunt intended the money for him.

She wrote that she had been too ill to write just before Christmas, but

that Sidney would probably rather have the gift come late than not at

all.

"Well, I should say so!" ejaculated Sidney. "And now I needn't wait for

father. I can use this money to buy my ammunition, and tell him about it

at dinner time."

He restored the letter to its envelope, and then let himself out at the

alley door. In five minutes he was in the nearest hardware store,

bargaining for his shot.

His mind was full of the sport he expected to have that afternoon in the

woods with his gun, and when he reached home he sprang up the steps two

at a time.

He was about to ring, with no gentle hand, when the door was thrown open

by his sister Fannie.

"We've been watching for you, Sidney," she said, in some excitement.

"Uncle Charles is here, and wants you to go home with him for two or

three days. He says he can promise you a splendid time. You'll have to

hurry, though, for the train leaves at twelve o'clock, and it is

half-past eleven now. We were _so_ afraid you wouldn't get back in

time."

"Hurry, Sidney," said his mother, appearing at the parlor door. "Change

your clothes as quickly as possible. I have packed your valise for you."

"No time to waste, my boy," said his uncle, from the dining-room, where

he was snatching a hasty lunch, attended by Clara. "The train won't wait

for us."

Sidney was soon ready, and, with a hasty good-by to his mother and

sisters, hurried off with his uncle.

"And be sure you come back Friday night, Sidney," called out his sister

Fannie, as she followed him to the front gate. "Don't 'fully intend' to

do it, and then come walking in here on Sunday. You know you've got to

make calls on New Year's Day."

"All right," answered Sidney. "I'll be here. You needn't worry."

It was not until he was in the train and half way to his destination

that he thought of the five-dollar bill. He was provoked with himself

that he had not spoken of it to his mother.

"But I'll write as soon as I get to Meadville," he thought; "and they'll

get the letter to-morrow."

But there was a great deal to occupy him when he reached his uncle's

home.

His cousins were fond of fun and were always ready for anything, and he

was so hurried from one place to another and had so many calls on his

time, that it was little wonder that the writing of that letter was

postponed. He fully intended to write it, but it wasn't written.

Only the recollection of Fannie's parting words made him resist an

invitation to a sleighing party and start for home on Friday. He knew

how the girls would talk if he were not there to make those calls on New

Year's Day.

He occupied himself while on the train with thinking on whom he would

call and what he would talk about. His visit to Meadville would give him

one subject, at least, for conversation.

It was nearly eleven o'clock at night when he reached home, but he found

his father and mother and two sisters still up. They were finishing some

preparations for the celebration of the next day.

"So you have actually come!" cried Fannie, as Sidney entered the room

and went to the fire to warm his half-frozen hands and feet. "One good

intention kept, at least. I'll score that to your credit, Sidney."

"It seems as if I had been gone a good deal longer than four days," said

Sidney. "I've been in a perfect whirl of excitement ever since I left

here."

"We've had some excitement, too," said Clara. "Father's discharged Harry

Stuart."

"Yes, just think, Sidney, he stole five dollars," said Fannie.

"We merely _suspected_ him of stealing it, my daughter," said Mr. Dent.

"I did not accuse him of it; but I fear there is no room to doubt that

he is guilty. He was the only one in the office while I was out."

"It is very hard to believe Harry Stuart a thief," said Mrs. Dent. "He

had as open and frank a face as I ever saw, and every one says he is

devoted to his mother; but then of course he was greatly tempted,

needing the money as he did."

"Do you mean the five-dollar bill Aunt Susan sent to me, father?" asked

Sidney.

He had grown very pale and his voice trembled as he spoke.

"Yes; how did you hear of it? The letter came the very day you left."

"Oh, father, I read the letter, and--and it was I who took the money! I

fully intended to tell you, but--"

And there Sidney broke down utterly and could not go on.

"_You_ took it!" repeated his father. "Oh, what trouble and sorrow you

have brought upon an innocent person, Sidney, by not letting me know

that sooner!"

"I intended to write from Meadville," faltered Sidney.

"But, as usual, you did not carry out your good intentions. Sidney, for

the first time in my life I am ashamed of you--heartily ashamed."

By degrees they drew the whole story from Sidney; and, though they

blamed him, they could not but feel sorry for him, so acute was his

remorse.

"I hope this affair will be a lesson to you as long as you live," said

Mr. Dent, as he dismissed the remorseful boy to his room.

Had it not been so late, Sidney would have gone that night to see Harry

Stuart, but as it was, he was up the next morning by six o'clock, and in

the cold, gray light of the first day of the New Year hurried to the

little brown cottage.

He found Mrs. Stuart sitting by the bedside of her son, who, never

strong, had been utterly prostrated by the trouble which had come upon

him, and for two days he had been delirious with fever.

He did not recognize Sidney, and the latter could hardly repress his

tears as he took the young man's hot hand in his own and looked down at

his flushed face and unnaturally bright eyes, and heard him mutter

incoherently his denial of the theft of which he had been suspected.

That was the only call Sidney made that day. All else was forgotten as

he sat by Harry Stuart's bedside hour after hour, trying to atone for

the pain and grief his carelessness had caused.

Harry got well at last and was restored to his former place with an

increase in salary, and he and Sidney were firm friends for the rest of

their lives; but Sidney never forgot the lesson he had learned and the

good resolutions he had made that New Year's Day in the little brown

cottage.

No one ever again heard him say, "I fully intended." To intend was to

_do_ with him at last.

NEW YEAR'S EVE.

Ye bells! peal forth

From south to north,

No longer let your iron tongues be dumb:

Up to the rafters swing,

Make all the country ring

An omen of a Happy Year to come,

[_This Story began in No. 2._]

ANDY FLETCHER,

the Story of a Boy with a Purpose.

by JOHN RUSSELL CORYELL,

Author of "Cast Adrift; or, Ned Carroll's

Promise," etc.