The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 10 March 1910, Page 397

The Family Circle

WHO’S AFRAID IN THE DARK ‘ Not I!’, said the owl, , And he gave a great scowl. And wiped his eye. And fluffed his jowl. Tu-whoo I ’ Said the . dog, ‘ I bark Out loud in the dark. 800-oo Said the cat, ‘ Miew ! I’ll scratch any who Dare say that I do Feel afraid. Miewl’ ‘ Afraid,’ said the mouse, ‘ Of the dark in a house ? Hear me scatter Whatever’s the matter, ’ Squeak!’ Then the toad in his hole, And the mole in the ground. They both shook their heads And passed the word round. And the birds in the tree, The fish, and the bee They declared, all three, That you never did see One of them afraid ! In the dark! But the little girl who had gone to bed Just raised the bedclothes and covered her head.

HOW HE SUCCEEDED The train whistled out of the station, and was getting under way. Suddenly an elderly woman started up with a hurried, bewildered manner, exclaiming, ‘ Was that Starkey? Starkey’s my station! I must get off.’ The ‘must’ was emphatic. ‘ This is Starkey,’ her seat companion answered. ‘ You’re too late, though.’ The woman was about sixty-five, dressed in respectable black, and wearing a widow’s cap. She struggled to get past the one next her. It was all in a breath —much quicker than words can tell it. A tall newsboy was crying his papers through the car. At sight of the distressed woman he threw them down in a vacant seat, rushed forward and grabbed the conductor. In an instant the bell rang, and the train came quivering to a standstill. Some one hurried the woman off, though in her perplexity she tried the wrong door, and had to be sent back to avoid another train on the side track. Everybody had taken an interest, though some laughed as people will when distress seems comical. Everybody breathed freer when the motherly figure walked away, with a parting wave of her hand. The newsboy gathered up the papers and renewed his monotonous call. Mrs. Pollard trudged back to Starkey station. Over a quarter of a mile she had gone beyond it. ‘ What did possess me?’ she thought. ‘ The Lord helped me —the Lord and that boy. I do hope He’ll keep me till I can walk on something safer’n railroad ties!’ It took her ten minutes or so to reach the station, and she puffed painfully as she stopped to get her bearings. ‘ Yes, now I know where I am,’ ' she said. That’s Melissa’s house ’round that corner. I expect she’s up and about by this time Frank wrote she was so much better.’ .1 As she approached her daughter’s home, a curious air of stillness struck and chilled her. No, there was no crape on the front door; she couldn’t help looking to see. Hesitating to ring, she stole ’round to a side door which opened, as she knew, into the family sitting-room. Softly she turned the knob and entered. Frank Henderson, the son-in-law, started from his chair where he was sitting dejectedly. . ‘ 1 ‘Mother!’ he said, in a whisper, while something approaching gladness crept into his eyes. - '.'uj. - ‘ Melissa? What does it mean?’ Mrs. Pollard anxious]; questioned. • • , , ' Oh, mother,’ the strong man almost sobbed. ‘She was doing so maybe she overdid. . Yesterday she, had a relapsel telegraphed you of course, you’d started first. Last night we doubted if she’d pull through till morning, much less till you could make the long journey. She couldn’t speak much, but every time she did she moaned for mother. Doctor said you’d do her more good than medicine,’ The poor fellow groaned anew. It had been hard to see his young wife pining for a mother’s tendernßSS ‘ I’m so glad you came,’ he added fervently. - . Mrs. Pollard was a master hand in sickness, and courage seldom forsook her. Then pnd there she made her resolve.

hMdfrmf; t“ ren ’ touch was strength. k 8 tremblm g fingers. Her very you ever s , thl £ ugh a ' man y disease before Don’t 564 h Just P^te el V° k “P taok e h^w„ 0 ta 0 r. yOU -’ : SH ° natural to tC‘t “tSat, i oj° n st , artle ter, mother.’ ■ needed M waiSg The tone showed that Mrs. Pollard tol say-* ** lifted tired eyelid! The! S« P 1 d her m ? an > and slowly the glance. 7 * reason and recognition in tiom Mother ’’ she breathed, with a sort of restful satisfac ‘ Yes, lovey,’ said the tender voice. ‘ Now mottor’* going to give her baby this little bit of milk and thin baby s gomg to sleep There, there, deary/ ' • h Ihe nurse looked on amazed Was it marrinP rri, • treatment was not down in the books.™ * ma S lc? This TTrat j Y ° U re n. W1 x e . ls , goin S to live,’ the doctor told Frank Henderson that night, ‘ and it’ll be mother love that did -A* i S ’ Pollard hadn t come in the nick of timo T wouldn’t dare to say she’d be alive this minute.’ 1 Mvc IV T>° later, when Melissa was quite recovered Mrs. Pollard started for her eastern home. To all entreaties she answered, No, my child. I’m getting to be woman ’ and home is home. When you’re both well w!, + 1 n %l ds me 1 ? ost - . She hasn’t any husband, and we’ve been together so close since father died we’ve sort nf crmom la 8ehe J-.u YU ,’ TO V* F ™> k and the boy The tofiZ Sra to come .to me.’ come ” ow ’ Nellt Tear it’ll he your QL tl | i l arrangemen t no objection could be offered. . bhe left on an early train, and there were few nan sengers at first. Pretty soon she caught sight of a familiar traim’ ** was the newsboy who had helped her off the ‘Sure, s his beat,’ she thought. He had disposed of all papers possible, until a larger place should --g 0 m I ? ore people, and on some western roads the stations are far apart. So he sat down near the front - Mrs. Pollard was not a woman to hesitate. . She went M a «d .tapped the boy on the arm. He sprang to Sashed hi! & C ‘ P ' A qU ‘° k Hght ° f him.‘ Sit down,’ Mrs. Pollard said, Ipacing herself beside wC J, 866 y °“u reme . mber r- . y “’ I’m the same woman What"s“oSr r name P “ 8UA °* Nation eight weeks a ß°- ‘ John Markham,’ he answered, much amused/ j• j John—-that s a good, strong, honest name. I always did like plain names for boys—none of your" high falutins J? r ,me. 9 We v’ John Markham, do you know what you did that day? You saved a life!’ you am not,’ hTySSSS.*" any danger ’ at least 1 think , Not my life, young man, but one worth more—daughter s. + She was at the - last gasp. If I’d gone on to the next station and waited for a return train she wouldn t have held out; the doctor said so. Now, I want to know what made you spring so quick to help me when other folks laughed? Oh, I saw ’em!" - F , , The lad hesitated. ‘I think I’d have done it for anybody. I hope I would. But you looked . like my- grandmother with that white streak inside your bonnet—she always wore one. She brought me up. She was awfully good to me when I was a little chap.’ * y And she’s—’ ■ ‘Dead five years ago.’ He completed the sentence with a sad gravity. - v , And you was an orphan, of course, and haven’t anybody now?’ , f John Markham nodded. ‘Well, well,’ the old lady reflected, how far the Lord makes goodness go. It’s like an endless chain. I don’t know the beginning, but to go back’s far as I do know your grandmother was good to you, and that made you gooti to me, and that saved my child’s life.’ , b Suddenly a thought struck Mrs. Pollard. She was nothing if not practical. ‘ Maybe I can help you forge the next link, she considered. - .. . ■ ‘ Wouldn’t you like some business where you needn’t be on the road, and could hope for a rise?’ she asked ‘You bet I would— me,’ he laughed and blushed. She smiled charitably ,in return, but said no word more of his future. It happened, however, that a long letter went promptly from his mother-in-law to Frank Henderson which letter was almost a command. A command willingly obeyed, though; and later, a letter went from Mr. Henderson to the newsboy. T : : -r: ; > -v* ; Now John Markham is clerk in Mr. Henderson?® book store, with prospect of becoming junior partner, and this is the story of how he got his ‘ rise,’

,;V. CHEERFULNESS ‘ . ■ In the maintenance of health and the cure of disease, cheerfulness is a most important factor. Its power to do good, like a medicine, is not an artificial stimulation or the tissues, to be followed by reaction and greater waste, as is the case, with many drugs; but in the effect of cheer- , tulrfess is an ■ actual life-giving influence through a moral channel, the results of which reach every part of the system. ; It brightens the eye, makes ruddy the countenance, brings elasticity to the step, and promotes all the inner forces by which life is sustained. THRIFT ~ John D. Rockefeller never wearies of impressing on the young the folly of mean and parsimonious habits. In one of his most recent interviews he said: * These miserly people reap nothing but discomfort from their faise economies. Take, for example, the case of Mrs. Silas Long, of Sussex. “‘Martha,” said Silas one fall day, “I think I’ll go. and get a few apples from the orchard.” ‘He looked at her timidly. She said: ‘ Well, be careful now, Si, only to pick the bad ones.” Suppose there aint’ no bad ones, Martha?” ‘ “ Then ye’ll have to wait till some goes bad, of course,” the old lady snapped. “We can’t afford to eat good, sound fruit wuth three cents a bushel.” ’ OLD IRISH PROVERBS The rare jewel is the most prized. A blind man is no judge of colors. When the cat is out the mice dance. Even a fool has luck A mouth of ivy, a heart of holly. The historian’s food is truth. There is often anger in a . laugh. • A good dress often hides a deceiver. Fame is more lasting than life. A foolish word is folly. Lay up in time. Mild to the meek. Cat after kind.' ■ Force overcomes justice. Hope consoles the persecuted. The satisfied forget the hungry. Long sleep, renders a child inert. Hurry without haste It is difficult to tame the proud. Idleness is the desire of a fool. Look before you leap. He who is out, his supper cools. The memory of an old child is long." Everything is revealed by time. A cat can look at a king. Learning is the desire of the wise. Character is better than wealth. Without treasure, without friends. A hungry man is angry. No man is wise at all times. Every dear article is woman’s desire. Wisdom exceeds strength. Wine is sweet; to pay for it bitter. Sleep is the image of death. Enough is a feast. Death is the physician of the . poor. , Every, flatterer is not a friend. FAMILY FUN To Master a Man With Two Fingers.—Ask any personthe stronger the man the more striking will the feat appearto hold a chair in his arms, in such a way that the back legs rest against his chest, and he grasps the tips of the front legs, one in each hand. You then declare that with two fingers alone you can push him anywhere you please; you say that he will he able to offer you no resistance, that he ,is absolutely at your mercy, as, indeed, is the case. Stand in front of him, place two. fingers, one on a back leg and one on the opposite front leg as close under the seat as possible. In this position, you can find that you can do what you please with your subject; you can sway him backward or forward, you can push him from side to side, you can drive him to any. corner of the room, you can pull him suddenly forward or you can throw him backward so that he falls about in the most helpless manner imaginable. The explanation is that you continually pull, or push your opponent off his balance, owing to the leverage obtained by the peculiar position in which he is made to hold the chair. By watching his face you can see whether he is prepared to resist ’ .a pull forward or a push backward. If the former is the case, you can push him backward, if the latter, you pull forward. You thus always take him unawares. .