OUR YOUNG FOLKS' COLUMN.

Mataura Ensign, Issue 1139, 22 January 1903, Page 3

OUR YOUNG FOLKS' COLUMN.

[Editkd by Uxcle Phil.] UULEB. 1. All letters for the week's publication should reach the office not later than Monday afternoon. 2. Correspondents should write on only one side of the paper. 3. All correspondents must send their real names, not necessarily for publication. All letters should be addressed thus : Press M.S.S.

UNCLE PHIL, Essiun Office,

OUR MOTTO: Whatsoever thy hand rindeth to do, do it with all thy might.

Dear Boys and Girls,—We are seeing a good many cables about Morocco just now. and I suppose very few of us know much about it. Tarifa Point, the most southerly part of Spain, and the rock of Ceuta (pronounced Sootah) form the nearest approach of Europe to Africa on the west, and were known in by-gones times as the Gate of Hercules. Whether Hercules was supposed to lie able to stand with one foot on Tarifa Point and the other on the Rock of Ceuta, thus making a stride of a good few miles, I do not know; but I have read somewhere that he was supposed to have been equal to that feat. Of course as " there never was no sich pusson," it does not matter. But here, within a few miles of each other, lie Gibraltar with its garrison and highly cultured Englishmen, and the last of the Barbary States, standing alone as a monument of barbarism. Its population is estimated by some at 3,000,000, and by others at 9,000,000 which in itself shows that no one, outside of Morocco anyway, knows what it is. The word ' ruffian ' came into the English language from the word ' Riff' which is the name of a part of Morocco whence, in days of yore, fierce sea robbers pounced out on Mediterranean ships, and it is said that even yet their descendants lose no chance of plundering any ship that comes too near their inhospitable bit of coast line. It is governed by an absolute ruler called the Sultan, and he has a body-guard which is, strange to say, commanded by a Highlandman—Sir Kaid Mac Lean. The nobility however are hard to govern ; and at the present time are disputing the power of the Sultan, more than his right which counts for little in Morocco, to the throne. The Sultan has three capitals where he resides in turn Fez, Mekenes and Merrkish. Tangier is the most important town as it is there that the agents of foreign powers live. The coast towns have a kind of varnish of civilisation, but the interior ones are, though possessed of past splendour, masses of ruin and filth. In many parts, -dates, olives and figs, as well as other sub-tropical fruits could be grown abundantly, but life and property are too unsafe to make it worth while to cultivate these for export, and the inhabitants are left in a state of ignorance. In the Atlas mountains too there are rich mineral deposits, but they arc of course unworked. " The roads throughout the country are mere bridlepaths worn by travellers, beasts of burden, cattle, sheep and goats through uncounted ages. No railways exist in the empire." Islamism is the all prevailing religion—there is no God, but Allah and Mohammed is his prophet, such is the creed of Mohammed. Uncle Phil. Dear Uncle Phil, —I once more take up my pen to write to you. I thank you for the pretty card which you sent me. We had our examination a fortnight before Christmas, and all Std. 1 passed. At our vacation concert, which was held on 19th Dec, I got a prize named " Our Bessy." My father also gave me a ' Girl's Own Paper' on Christmas Day, so I have two books to read. I did not go anywhere on Christmas as it was too hot, but on Boxing Day a friend and I went for ferns, but were not successful. I will tell you more in my next letter.—l remain, your allec, niece, Clementine. [You did very well in the way of books at Christmas time. I thank you for the*beginniug of the story, but I cannot publish any part of it till I have the complete story on hand. Write me a long letter soon.—U.P.j

Dear Uncle Phil, —I again take the pleasure of writing to you. Christmas is past now, and what a long time it will be before another one comes round. We are shearing just now and I always carry the lunch down to the shed, but I don't think I will do it again this year, as we are going back to school to-morrow. We are going to have a good lot of fruit this year, but not so much as last year. Last year we made 76 bottles of jam, but I don't think we will be able to make so much this year. I should like to exchange, autos with Isa, Ina, Dolly Gray, Meril, Bonny Chick, and Curleyback. Dear Uncle, would you mind sending me some auto forms please ? Wiih love to all the cousins and yourself.—l am, yours truly, TINY.

[I like your handwriting. If the cousins you name send on autos for you, I shall gladly post them on. I shall also send you some auto forms if you send me a stamped addressed envelope for them. I hope I shall have have a loner letter from you very soon. U.P.I

Dear Uncle Phil, —My .sister is writing to-day, so I think I will do the same. I am in the third primer at school. I was at a picnic on New Year's Day, and I got a wee doll, I must close now. With love to all, —I am, your niece, Dressmaker. [For one so young you write a very regular and pretty hand, and I hope to get many letters from you. I shall send you some auto forms if you will send me a stamped addressed envelope for them.—U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil, —I again ha%v the pleasure of writing you a few lines. I am 12 years old and am in the sixth standard. We have six weeks' holidays and I am enjoying myself very much. I am reading a book called " Hans Drinker, or the Silver Skates," and I like it vary much. I have not read " Ivanhoe " bui I mean to do so the first chance I get. My sister and I are going to hoe turnip* to-morrow. I do not like hoeing turnips because my back gets sore. I know who Pat

Murphy, Pat and Polly Perkins are. One day when my mother was away, I tried to make a cake. I put on such a big fire that it looked as if it were cooked, but it was doughy in the middle. It turned out all right though. With love to all the little folk and yourself.—l am, your loving niece,

Lady Blanche

[You are far on in the standards to be so young, but I hear your school excels in good attendance, and your teacher is most enthusiastic. As the cake turned out all right you may fairly claim to have done well. " Ivanhoe " is more for boys than for girls, but you will enjoy it lam sure.— U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil, —I am going to write you a few lines. I have to look after the chickens, and we have 31. We have three pet lambs. I know some of the little folk. lam reading " Manco the Peruvian Chief." lam going to hoe turnips to-morrow if it is tine. We had a terrible hail storm on Saturday, and our cows ran up to the stable to get shelter. lam 10 years old, and am in the fourth standard. I was out for a walk one day to gather flowers, and I enjoyed myself grand. I think this is all I have got to say just now.—l am, your loving niece, Susy. [You have a great many lives under your care. I hope you will manage to rear them all. You are well on for your age too. Write a longer letter next time. —U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil, —It is with the greatest of pleasure that I sit down to pen you a few more lines. I would have written to you sooner, but like most others I have been busy lately, and have not had much time for writing. Dear Uncle, before I say more on other subjects I must thank you for the very nice card you sent me ; it was very kind of you. lam glad I can say that I got to the U.P.N, social, which I enjoyed very much, and got to know quite a lot of my cousins. I was at a picnic on Christmas Day, and at another on New Years' Day, so I did not do so bad. I saw a few U.P.Ns. on Christmas Day and among them were De Aar and Henwife. Dear Molly and Pink Pill, will you please send me your autos, and I will send mine in return ? What a very interesting tale Daisy has sent us. lam sure the cousins will enjoy reading it; lam waiting patiently for the other part of it. There is a trip to Queenstown on the 21st of this month, but I am not quite sure whether I will go or not. I think it will be a very nice trip, especially if it is a fine day. Well, dear Uncle, as news is very scarce about here, I will have to bring my letter to a close. Love to all the cousins and yourself.—l still remain, your alfec. niece, Nancy.

[I am glad to get your note. You do not write quite as often as you might, but you are busy. However, I hope you will find leisure for writing oftener in future. I shall be glad to send on any autos that come for you. -U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil, —1 have not written to your page for a long time. I really do not know what excuse to make, but you must forgive me this time. I waited until the year was out and made a fresh start for the new year. We left Gore on Friday, 26' th, by the Waimea train for Kingston, got to Kingston about half-past six. There we left the train and boarded the steamer, named the Bon Lomand. Had there been any more passengers on board it would not have added to our comfort. Going from Kingston to Queenstown, there was 100 passengers on board. The lake was very rough and we got into Queenstown about half-past eight. My friends and I took up our abode there for the night. We left next morning by the steamer en route for the head of the lake, via Greenstone. The lake being rough again the steamer could not land, so we had to be rowed out in a small boat to land. When the little boat got near enough for us to step out, passengers had to put their feet on a log so as not to got wet. When' my turn came to get out, I put my foot too near the end of the log, and it went under the water, and my feet went under the boat. Of course I was soaking wet to finish my journey. I cannot attempt to describe the beautiful scenery, as it is one of those things that you have to see for yourself before you could credit it, there being something both awful and grand about it at the same time. Do you remember when I wrote as Snowdrop before ? Well, someone took my name not knowing there was a Snowdrop already, so I will call myself Snowdrop No. 1.

[What a nice long letter. I hope you were none the worse for the wetting you got, and that the change of air and tcene will do you good. Do not be so long in writing again.— U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil, —Christmas holidays have come and gone. I spent mine very quietly as it was so wet; I did not go away from home. Some of the time I spent playing dominoes, which I think is a very nice Same. Have you ever played at dominoes. Uncle? I have also the game of halma, draughts and chess. I was in Gore last week and saw one of your nephews with his badge on; I wonder what his nom de plume is. What a lot of wet weather we have had. It has put th<> fanners hack with their gi-'ss and turnips, and I am afraid that the Gallic and sheep will suffer fur want of food n»\t winter. Excuse mv had writing as it was nearly dark when I wrote this letter. With love to all the cousins, and wishing you a happy Xew Year.—l remain, your Inv'np niece, Ita.

[I got your private note, and have made the necessary alteration in ray hook. Yes, I have played with dominoes. Draughts is a good game, but to be;;>mo a great player one has to study the game from text books, arid it then becomes a professional game; no longer a relaxation which seems to be its real u--e. U.P.] Dear Uncle Phil, —There are many of my friends at tfais school who write to you. and 1 think I will write ion. We broke up the day before Christmas for n fortnight and two days' holiday. At harvest time we get four weeks. I did not go anywhere for my holidays, but I enjoyed them very much, I jni 12 years of age and am in the fourth EUiidard. I ans hoping for a fine day on the 28th

(or lam going for a trip. I must olose now. With love to the U.P.Nb Yours truly, Bristol. [I am very pleased to have you as a new correspondent. You write very well for aS4 pupil, and by writing regularly you will improve both your composition and your handwriting. Tell us about your trip.—U.P.

Dear Uncle Phil, —Our school broke up for Christmas holidays on the 24th Dec. for two weeks, and we started school again last Monday. During the holidays the weather was very wet, but I enjoyed myself very well. I did not go away from home for my holidays this year. I was in Gore on Christmas Eve and also on Christmas Day. I was at a party last Friday which one of my schoolmates gave, and I enjoyed myself very much. Since I last wrote I have found out a number of your correspondents. I received my badge, and also the card you sent me. The school examination took place in November, and I passed. lam now in S6. I was at the Show and saw a number of U.P.N, badges. I must stop now as it is getting late. With love to all my cousins and yourself.—l am, your loving niece, Annie. [You write very distinctly, and very like all the children belonging to your school. I can pick out their writing at once. You will have a hard time this year in S6, but keep at it and you will come out well at the far end, especially with such a careful and painstaking teacher.—U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil,—lt is a long time since I wrote to you. The weather has been very rough here, and it made Christmas time very miserable. There was a school picnic which I was at, but it was not a very good day for it. I got the card you sent me and I thought it was very nice. The fruit is on the trees, but it is not ripe. This rough weather has kept the crops back. As I never give you a very big letter, I shall close. With love to all—l am, yours etc., Mami. [You certainly have been long in writing, aud you have lost by so doing. Now in this new year try to write regularly.—U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil,—We had two weeks and two days for our Christmas holidays, and I shall tell you how I spent them. The first, week I was at home. During the second week I was at my uncle's place for three days, and was home the rest of the holidays. It was very wet during the holidays, so I did not enjoy myself very much. When we had holidays from school we had holidays from Sunday school too. I was glad we had holidays from Sunday school, because the road was so muddy. I had a very good Christmas dinner at home, and nine of my cousins being at our place we had a good time of it. We were asked out to dinner on New Year's Day, but were disappointed at not getting, as my mother and sister were ill. The last day of the holidays we were asked out to an afternoon party, and although it was raining I enjoyed it very much. I have been at school for a week since the holidays. The Christmas card you sent me was very nice. With love to all, not forgetting yourself,—l remain, your affectionate niece, Sunflower. [Yes, the wet weather somewhat marred the holidays, but as you have harvest holidays lying in front of you, you need not lot your heart down too far. You will find that the best way to beat back disappointments is just to bear them with a cheerful heart. The person who can bear troubles cheerfully is a braver man than one who leads an array to victory, but whines when reverses come. Courage is a finer quality than bravery, and to meet the daily trials of life with a cheerful heart is courage. Write a long letter next time.—U.P.]

Dear Undo Phil,—l have been going to write fov a long time, but the time seems to slip by so quickly that it is now the middle of the first month of our new year. When looking back upon the old year so little seems to have been accomplished, and yet what a lot of things have happened in time which seems but yesterday. The new year will bring to us new joys and sorrows, and those of yesterday will lie forgotten. Is not the weather terrible ? Kealiy we will soon have no time left for summer, and will (ind that winter has coma. The crops will suffer greatly, and it looks like as if wo will have a late harvest. The potatoes are very far behind (at least ours are). They are only just beginning to flower, and in the middle of January last years we were having new ones every day. Indeed, the only vegetable in our garhen which has come to maturity is the cabbage. Show Day was beautiful, was it not? Dad offered me his gum boots before I left, and I was quite sorry I did not take them when I saw the grounds. I came down to Gore with the express, and there being no room in the carriages we had to bundle into the guard's van, among mail bags, trunks, and a variety of boxes. Now this would have been all right for those people who fancy fowls, for they could have passed away the time arguing the point about the best looking breed, etc,, for there were also two or three boxes of them in the van, and they kept up a continual cackle, cakle, cackle; but, for us common mortals, it was anything but pleasure. However, we got to Gore, and at once set off for the Show ground. In spite of rain and mud I enjoyed myself splendidly, and was quite sorry when it was over, The U.P.N, social was very nice, but don't you think it broke up rather soon ? We were just beginning to get into the spirit of the thing when it broke up, but of course there was so many young children there it could hardly have done otherwise. The Riversdale picnic was very enjoyable this year. Thero was a large number of your correspondents there, and of these, I knew but few of their noms de plume. Some of your correspondents seem to be pretty good runners, at least they seem to be first in a lot of the races. My word, Uncle, you should have seen the Grand March at a recent picnic. Conspicuous in the ranks was one of the Patriarchs and Nae a Laddie. Judging from the Patriarchs' letters one would have thought they were very old, but you should have seen them on their bikes, riding races, one would be inclined to change his mind. Some of the poultry fanciers up this way are in great dread because some half-dozen hawks have begun to show a greater preference for the society of their chickens than for any other companions and, from the way they are seen to embraoe them, I believe they seek a yet closer relationship. Our excursion is to the lakes on Wednesday next. I would like to go fro/li Saturday till Monday, but, of course, I can't be spared from home. A Daughter in Israel had been ill for some W'-eks and when getting better she took a relapse, and is now gone to seek a more congenial climate. I was very pleased to see that Daphne got the medal for dux of the girls in the High School. I heartily congratulate her as she truly deserved it. Is it not nice to be those people who can go for holidays, Uncle? I was to have gone to Dunedin this Christmas, but as I am the eldest girl at home now, I could not be spared; but I hope all those who got away had a good time. Well, Uncle, I must say good-bye or my letter will be too long.—l am, with best love to all, your loving niece,

Avice. P. 3.—1 hope to see a letter in from Daphne and Eulalie soon.—A.

[Yours is a long interesting letter. I have written you a private note. You enjoyed the show and social and make no complaint, though disappointed in not getting your DuDedin trip. I admire the spirit you show ; you will make a good wife for the man who is lucky enough to get you bye and bye, and I hope he will be worthy of you. I sincerely

hope A Daughter in Israel will soon be quite better and that in her present exile she will not forget us. Daphne is a clever girl. I, too, was pleased that she came out dux. Suppose you and I join in saying : Do it again, Daphne.—U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil, —Here I am again, for as I have nothing else to do, I thought I could not do better than write you a few lines. The weather here i 3 something the same uo usual. We had a social here last night for the purpose of bidding farewell to an oid resident of our district, who will bo much missed in our quarters. I must ihank you for the auto forms which I received the following day. I have not much to say this time as I wrote last week, and news is not very plentiful' about this part. I have enclosed autos for Molly, 5.8. M.F., Sandy and C.F.M.E.D. I must draw to a close as it is getting late and I was up all night, so here are best wishes to Tom, Ping Pong and yourself,—From Waimea Plains.

[Since you were up all night I can excuse this short note, but write a long one soon. —U.P.]

Dear Uncle Pbil, —Once again we find the leisure or rather make it, to write to let you know we are still in the land of the living, and also of labor you may be sure. We were down at the Show and were quite carried away with the splendor of the whole affair and also by the mud ; indeed we have regretted ever since that we did not take our dancing shoes with us, also a boat, or a pair of gum boots, so as to be more in keeping with the day. Well, Unele, boys as a rule are not shy, are they ? and by this time we suppose you know we are not affected that way in the least, so we made the most of our opportunity, and had quite a good time with the young U.P.N, ladies, thereby taking after a certain correspondent frequently mentioned by W.R.E.F.B. We enjoyed ourselves so much that we rode into the U.P.N, social where we had a real dandy time. We were going out fishing the other day, or at least we made up our minds to go if it had been a fine day (we hadn't much chance had we), but all our hopes vanished when our dads became of the opinion that the turnips needed thinning out more than the fish. It is a terrible thing to be hard working sons of the soil, Uncle. The harvest is drawing nigh now, and with it will open out a new sphere of labor for us. Won't we have to work! No six o'clock in the morning then. It will be more like four, so you can understand that we are looking forward with keen enjoyment to the harvest. We see the mounted corps have been having fine times in camp. As soon as we are old enough we are going to join, that is if they will have us. We will send our autos to those who sent us theirs some fine day, and, as there are only about two line days a month, they must wait patiently. I wonder if they think we could cut the autos in two and divide, for they all sent, with one exception, only one between us, but it is said that half a feed is better than none at all, so we give them thanks for half and will look forward to the whole. As everybody is remarking that thoy wished to goodness the boys would go to bed, they are too jolly polite to mention names you know, we will retire.—Yours as ever The Toilers.

[I think the fine times the mounted corps had in camp consisted chiefly in rain, then in more rain, then in rain again.—U.P.J

Dear Uncle Phil, —It is a long time since I have thought of writing to you, and seeing in the last paper that you were asking for more correspondents, I thought I would make a start. What terrible weather we are having ; it will soon be winter again and we won't have had any summer. I wonder when we will have harvest this year. Looking at the crops now you would think they had a very small chance of getting ripe at all. What would we do without the weather; it comes in very handy sometimes does it not, Uncle 1 The Christinas holidays will soon be over now, and then you should got some good letters from the cousins that have been away enjoying themselves. You were wishing that you could get letters from other countries. 1 think it would be a very good idea, Uncle. II would add a lot to the interest of the page, Next time I write I will try and tell the U.P.N.s a little about South America. It wilbnot be quite the same as getting the letter straight from there, but friends being there tbey often write and tell us about the people and the country, which I think some of your readers would find interesting. I do not know many of your correspondents. What a lot you have, nearly as many as Dot. You will soon have all the supplement to yourself. I wonder if you like writing letters, I do not, but 1 suppose you write such a lot that it comes quite easy to you. Are you going to Queenstown with the excursion, Uncle ? I think it would be nicer to go on Saturday and come back on Monday. You would then be able to see more of the town. There must be lovely scenery up' there, and what a lot of people are going. I think I will have to bring this to a close. With love to the U.P.N.s and yourself. From your loving niece, Ciii.oris. [I am very much pleased to get your letter and to see that I may number you among my nieces. I shall be very glad indoed to have an account of the far-away land near the Horn. Your letter will be eagerly welcomed. -TJ,l\]

Pear Uncle Phi!,—Again I fit down to write you a few lines. We are having good weather up here at present. The holidays will soon be over now, and we will then be going back to school. Did you go anywhere for your holidays, Uncle. I did not, but I enjoyed myself at home. Our school excursion is to be to Queenstown on the 4th of next month, but I do not know whether I am going or not. I am reading a book called " Wrongs Righted " by Annie S. Swan, and I like it very much. J was out bird-nesting on Saturday, and I only got 12. I was at the Sunday School picnic on Wednesday last, and I enjoyed myself fine. I ran a lot of races, but I did not get anything. This is all I have to say at present, so I will dose with love to all. I remain, your affectionate niece Gamdbtta.

[I stayed at home too. Yea, the holidays will soon be a thing of the past, where human footfall is never hoard. You seem to have done pretty well, though you did not go away on a visit. What far-off friends have you that would join our page?—U.P.]

Dear Uncle Phil,—l think it is just about time we wrote you another line or two as we are getting older every day and less able to write. Th 6 holidays are now over and we have to settle down to work again, and it is not very nice either. We old Patriarchs had a fine time of it during holiday time at the picnics. We met a number of your correspondents at the picnic and had a good pitch with them; among others were Nancy,Micky, Nae a Laddie, Bunyip, and Widow McCarthy. Tho oat crops up our way are very backward and not too good, and most of the turnips are not growing at all and will have to be sown over again. Owing to the bad weather many of the farmers h;ive not got their shearing done yet. By tho .iii, r we will have to haul Avice over the coals for givinc us poor old Patriarchs away at a picnic lately. With love to all our cousins and yourself.—Yours truly,

The Patbuh: r;s. [My aged friends should not indulge in the frivolities of youth such as picnics, ut ; why I shall hear o! their courting or b'sir.;: courtud nest, and for very old people that sounds foolish, but after all you may i.c only junior Patriarchs—young ones.—U.P.]

NOTICE TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Somebody's Lassie.—Thank you for the pretty card, and write soon.

Henwife.—l cannot supply anyone with auto forms unless a stamped addressed envelope is sent for them. I broke the rule in the case of Eleanor, but by doing so, two other nieces also got forms.

ANSWERS TO LAST WEEK'S PUZZLES. Tiny's: 1. A Chinaman. 2. A joiner. 3. A goose. A RASH RESOLUTION. (By Daisy.) (Continued.) As the shadows of night were deepening into darkness, Mrs Gilmour was startled by a knock at the door. She hastened to the door and there stood Dr Torrance enveloped in snow. She quickly brought him to her child's room and began the weary hours of watching. Mrs Gilmour, worn out with constant watching, fell into a fitful doze, while the doctor sitting beside the little sufferer's bed, administered what comfort he could. In such manner passed the early hours of night. It was sometime before midnight. A solemn stillness seemed to have fallen on the earth. The wind which a moment before could be heard whirling and rushing past with its weird shrieks, piling the snow in hillocks, and covering up all the hollows, seemed as if silenced by some awful spell. The doctor, sitting by his patient, heard the hall door open and close and then the steady step of a man, guided by a subdued light, stopped at the open door. " John, at last you have come," and with a sobbing cry she hastened to her husband's side with tottering steps. Ho caught the reeling figure in his arms, and it was pitiable to see his, a strong man's anguish, as he murmured: "My wife, my poor Bessie." Indeed sad havoc had played a terrible part with what had been, but a few days before, a comely face, now lined with weary watching and care. With a reassuring nod fiom the doctor, Gilmour bore his fainting wife from the room, and with that tenderness which is generally attributed to woman, laid her to rest and soon had the satisfaction of seeing her quietly sleeping, after which he went back to the room where his daughter lay. For an hour or two nothing could be heard but the cruel wind as it whistled through the tall pines, or drove the ever falling snow against _ the window. After midnight a change in the little sufferer was apparent. The crisis was past. The gasping, choking breathing bad ceased and Bessie was quietly resting. Mr Gilmour now found time to think of other things. He walked softly to his wife's door and was surprised to see Mrs Gilmour with fear and trouble depicted on her face, preparing to leave the room. She had woke up with that strange consciousness that something was wrong. She could not account for it, and thought perhaps some calamity had occurred while she slept, and with such tormenting thoughts wo know how impossible it is to rost however weary we may be. It was, therefore, an anxious face that was uplifted to hear the latest stage of her child's illess. "Come," said he, "Bessie is past all danger and will be all right in a day or two." When Mrs Gilmour had confiimed this good news by her own eyesight a Hood of gratitude came over her, and throwing herself on her knees by her child's cot returned thanks to Him who had restored her child to her, and Who does all things well. Towards morning, when all was calm aud still, and Bessie was quietly sleeping, the storm somewhat abated and the sun shone forth in stray gleams upon the white earth. The night in its dread and*dreary darkness had passed away for ever to be forgotten, or only to be remembered when some chance likenees brought it back in startling reality. Such is life in joy as well as in sorrow. We rise triumphant in the morning with bright hopes and anticipations of coming events, and when they come to pass, as they invariably do, they arc but commonplace and are cast aside and forgotten for some new craze, and so on until there is no more.

" Esther is very late this morning," said Mrs Gilmour, entering the kitchen where Mary was busy, " I daresay tho poor girl is worn out; I'm afraid she has not been properly cared for thoae lust few days and indeed she is far from being well." " I will go and toll her the good news and thou she will not be long," said Mary. She left the kitchen; and, quietly opening Esther's door, looked iu. But the room was empty. The little bed had never been slept in, and was undisturbed save at the side a slight pressure was noticeable where a person might have leaned. Esther's slippers were placed neatly in their accustomed place. With trembling fingers, Mary examined her wardrobe. Her warmest wraps were missing. Like a flash of lightning, Mary's mind travelled back to a sight she had seen but the night before, that of a child with determined mien though tearful eyes, and she understood The girl was so spellbound that she could not move, and how long she remained there looking at the little oot, she knew not, until she was startled suddenly by a sharp cry from her mistress. One look was all that, was needed, Mary's face and the empty room told more than words. Esther had gone. The mystery of the doctor's timely arrival was no longer a mystery. Esther travelled on through the falling snow and gathering gloom with a weary step. The doctor had long since vanished from view, and nothing could be seen bv,t the boundless tract of snow, now and then broken by a bunch of gorse or a (las. bush. On and on tramped tho child until she thought she was surely near tho homestead. Ah, yes, there wire the lights from the front windows. One, two, many twinkling lights she counted, and so very bright when tho scudding clouds did not hide them, from view. She would soon be homo now, and she did not feel at all tired. She hardly felt that she was out on a cold night, all was so bright and beautiful. Suddeuiy to her excited vision there appeared a woman clad in garments of snowy whiteness, and, as she approached, Esther beheld her mother, more beautiful than ever she had appeared in life. Hor good loving mother who had loved and left her had now come to guide her feet into a kingdo.m of glory where pain and sorrow and parting are unknown. Stretching out her arms she sank softly in the snow. The tired lids dropped over the weary eyes as she sank to rest; her poor weary body knew tiredness no more.

Thus they found her on the cold raw winter morning. A smile of perfect peace was seen to dwell on the pale cold features of tho

child when she had been stripped of her soft snowy winding Bheet, surely meet for odo so young, so innocent. They found her but a few miles from town, and sadly they bore their silent burden to its one time earthly home, but of that sad home-coming we shall say nothing. Trouble and sorrow is the common lot of all mankind, and there are many, many homes destitute of some loved ones, whose depths of sadness will never be known, and whose sorrow though abated, will never bo extinguished until they meet their loved ones on that eternal shore of light and love, where all is joy and peace. (The End.)