The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 7 November 1918, Page 45

The Family Circle

THE HOSTS OF HOPE. The Spring is herethe sweet, sweet Sprint ! Already in the greening trees The sap is creeping up and up; A minstrel band, the thrushes sing, White honey-birds and humming bees Drink nectar from each golden cup. Awake ! Awake ! New life is here ! New life, new joy, in all around, New beauty sweetens through the days ; Behold how/damsel-like, the year, Flower-flushed and in green costume gowned, Goes singing down the woodland ways ! With song and scent on every hand, And velvet winds that softly fan The dewy cheeks of night and morn, The Spring takes charge of all the -land ; Yet in the wearied heart of Man A something more than Spring is born. O wearied heart ! O heart assailed By doubt and dread and bitter grief ! O heart! that nobly sought to cope With direful things that pained and paled ! Look up ! Look up ! To your relief Comes Hope—the golden hosts of Hope ! Those shining hosts are singing loud, Bend low, and hearken how they sing; The gloom of night at length departs, Blushed by dawn is every cloud ; Now we .-.-an say, " 'Tis truly Spring!" Since Hope has lifted up our hearts. O singing thrush, sing on and on ! Your joy is ours, for Hope is ours; O fern and palm, and bush and tree! Your greenest, gayest garments don, For Ho,je has filled our lives with flowers, As Spring has entered into ye! Roderic Quinn. AN AMERICAN SHRINE. Holy Hill, a shrine dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, is situated in eastern Wisconsin, about seven miles from either Hartford or Richfield. The highest of a cluster of hills, it towers 208 feet above its base, and is a spot rich in scenic beauty. Its history dates back to the early forties. In 1842 a band of sturdy Irish, exiled from their native land because of religious oppression, sought refuge in America, coming to Wisconsin, where they settled in Township 9, Washington Co., later naming it Town of Erin, in memory of their beloved country. Standing out in all its imposing grandeur, the sacred mount reminded the exiles of the "Holy Hills of Erin," consecrated by the blood of their martyred relatives, and they named it Holy Hill. It was looked upon as a hallowed spot, and by common consent reserved as a place of worship. Father Paulhuber, one of their first priests, urged that the hill be dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and he is recorded as having made the following remarkable prophecy in 1854 : "I feel quite sure that the day is not far distant on which what I foresee will take place— that beautiful hill yonder will become one of the most noted spots in all this land. It shall be consecrated as a place of worship, where tens of thousands shall come yearly to do homage to God and the Blessed Virgin Mary." On May 1, 1855, Father Paulhuber purchased the hill from the Government with the intention of making it over to the Catholic Church, but some complications arose, and it was not until May, 1876, that the property was legally transferred to the trustees of St. Mary's Church, Town of Erin. The parishioners had always

regarded the hill as belonging to their Church, and in 1858 a large cross had been erected on its summit, and the place was dedicated to Mary, Help of Christians. The cross has been preserved, and can be seen enshrined on the outside of the church. In 1861 the longcherished wish of the people was fulfilled, and a log chapel was started on the hill, and on May 24, 1863, it was dedicated to Mary, Help of Christians. On May 26, 1876, the title of the hill property was transferred to Archbishop Henni, of Milwaukee. Work on a church to replace the little log chapel was begun in 1879. This beautiful shrine was completed in 1881, and was dedicated under the title of St. Mary, Help of Christians. A circuitous pathway through a dense forest leads from the foot of the hill to the shrine on its summit, and at regular intervals are placed the fourteen Stations of the Way of the Cross. The reminder of the sorrowful journey of Our Saviour to Calvary is one of the most touching features of Holy Hill. In June, 1906, the guardianship of the hill and its shrine was turned over to the Carmelite Order, who have since had complete charge of the property and services. The power of healing bodily infirmities, which is believed to centre about the shrine, makes Holy Hill particularly interesting, and has won for it the highest veneration of Catholics and many Protestants. Here each year on the principal feasts of the Blessed Virgin multitudes of pious pilgrims visit the shrine, and many a story is told of those who, through the intercession of Mary, have obtained health of soul and body. IRISH EYES. Don't you love the eyes that come from Ireland? The grey-blue eyes so strangely grey and blue, The fighting, loving eyes, The eyes that tell no lies, Don't you love the eyes that come from Ireland ? Don't you love the eyes that come from Ireland ? The dreaming, mocking eyes that see you through, The eyes that smile and smile, With the heartbreak all the while, Don't you love the eyes that come from Ireland Don't you love the eyes that come from Ireland ? The eyes that hate of England made so blue, The mystic eyes that see More than you and me— Don't you love the eyes that come from Ireland? Richard Le Gallienne. THE EDITOR. Most any one can be an editor. All the editor has to do is to sit at a desk, six days out of the week, four weeks of the month, and twelve months of the year and "edit" such stuff as this:"Mrs. Jones, of Cactus Creek, let a can opener slip last week and cut herself in the pantry." "Miss Nettie Green, while milking a cow last week, was kicked south of the corn crib." "A mischievous lad of Piketown, Ohio, threw a stone and hit Mrs. Pike in the alley last Thursday." "John Doe climbed on the roof of his house last week looking for a leak and fell, striking himself on the back porch." "While Harold Green was escorting Miss Violet Wise from a church social last Saturday night a savage dog attacked and bit Mr. Green on the public square." "Isaiah Trimmer of Running Creek was playing with a cat last Friday when it scratched him on the verandah." COLLEGE ENGLISH. A college senior went to New York for the first time, and upon his return was asked to write a theme on his first impression of. the big city, and what one phase of the life, in particular, most impressed him. The surprise of the professor and the class can be imagined when his theme was read out: "The most

amazing sight I saw was the skyscrapers of New York crossing the Hudson River on a ferryboat." Of such is college English. A LITTLE KINDNESS. "Don't forget thing this time," said Jones to his wife as they started for the treatre. "It's late now, and we've not a minute to lose." "Yes, dear," she replied sweetly. "I have everything, I'm sure." When they got to the comer she said—- " There, dear, now don't get cross ; but I have forgotten my bag, and I really must have it. Won't you run back for it? It's on the dressing table, I think, or in one of the drawers. And my handkerchief, dear ; I left it on the mantelpiece, or else on the chest of drawers. And while you're there, dear, would you mind bringing me the letters I left on my table ? One of them really must be posted to-night. I'm so sorry I forgot them ; and—wait a minute, dearest. I forgot my goloshes, and it's really too damp to go without them. You'd better bring an umbrella, too, it looks so unsettled, and would you mind looking in the hall for my Henry, if you can't do a little kindness for your own wife without looking so cross you may stay here and I'll go back myself!*' SMILE RAISERS. "What is the latest news?" "I don't know," replied Mr. Meekton. "The newspapers are all censored, and Henrietta has <juit going to teas." With the object of instilling into the fertile brains of the rising generation the names of prominent men during these stirring times the teacher at a certain Thames (Auckland) school asked the question, "Who is Woodrow Wilson?" Promptly the answer came from the smart boy of the class: "lie is a hypnotist, and visited the Thames the other day!" Such is fame. Little Girl (before statue in museum) : '"Mamma, who's this?" Attendant (after a pause): "That's Mercury, the messenger of the gods. You have read about him, i-.o doubt?" Mother: "Of course, she has. But, do you know, my little girl has such a very poor memory for Scripture." A student greatly annoyed the Professor of Natural Sciences by asking foolish questions. One day, after he had interrupted the lecturer several times, he said—- " How long can an animal live without brains?" "Well," was the professor's reply, "I really do not know, Mr. K How old are you?" At a military church service some recruits were listening to the chaplain in church saying, "Let them slay the Germans as Joshua smote the Egyptians," when a recruit whispered to a companion—- " Say, Bill, the old bloke is a bit off; doesn't he know it was Kitchener who swiped the Egyptians?" The mistress of the house was obdurate. "No," she said firmly; "I don't want no buttons nor no laces." Putting his foot in the fast-closing door, the tramp held up his hand. "Here you are, lady," said he. " 'Grammar for Beginners,' only sixpence." Young Jorkins wore his dad's clothes, which his mother had cut down for him as best she could. As he was getting into a waistcoat that had been cut from an overcoat he began to groan and grumble. "What's the matter now?" said his dad. "Why," said Jorkins junior," "this here pocket ain't got no bottom to it." "Pocket," said his dad, "That's a buttonhole."