The Sunday School Advocate (May 12, 1888)
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The owl and the bat The Coming of the Birds. Wuen the violets peep From the hillside steep, And over them hums the bee, Then merrily home The wild birds come, A bright little band to sce. Over dewy red clover, Each gay little rover May circle, and chatter, and play : For a day he may wait, With his gentle brown mate, Till the home-life culls him away. Then he'll build him a house *Mid the tangled boughs ; And in sunny summer weather, In the quict wood He will rear a brood, He and his love together. —Elaine Goodale. _—---—- op Nature’s Hibernators. BY MRS. G. that God has made have to sleep! They could. not get along without it. The brain, nerves, and muscles, and even the body must be repaired in every creature, or the machin-- ery would soon wear out, and this repairing goes on much more briskly when the machinery is not in use, as in sleep, when we, may truly say it is lying by for: repairs. Most animals sleep throughout the night. The flies, bees, bugs, and birds all go early to bed to get repaired for the next day’s work. So do the larger animals, and yet there are many that turn night into day by being busy all through the hours of the night, taking their sleep in the day-time. do this. | ; The katydids must sleep in the day-time, as they never begin their curious notes until evening. 2 But apart from all this, some animals go into a very long sleep, which lasts all the winter. Large numbers go off into out-of-the-way places, and fall fast asleep until the spring comes. ‘Many birds do this, too! Of course a very large proportion of the insect tribes, which have buzzed and hummed so merrily all the warm days of suinmer, die. when they have done looking after the wants of their progeny, but there are vast armies in full life that are in a torpid state as long as the ground is frozen, and no foliage to yield them sustenance. | | It is a much deeper sleep than that of a single night. In the night sleep the blood keeps moving, and the an- HALL, ALL animals imal breathes audibly, but. in this winter sleep there is All is no breathing, and the blood stops circulating. as still as death, but there is abundant life there, only it is life asleep, which the warmih of tle sunshine will wake up by and by into fresh vigorous motion, and the blood circulate anew, just as the sap does in the trees, and they will begin to come out of these curious hiding places. | There are bees in their hive all snugly asleep, keep- ing up just a little warmth for winter’s need, and who have laid up a store of nourisliment close by tlieir side, which they possibly will require. They are closely clustered togetlher—every unsealed cell with a bee that has crept half way in, and there lies sound asleep. If they wake up they must eat or die of cold and hunger. Wasps, as well as ants, await the spring which will set them at liberty, as do the bees, a This strange sleep may. last even Jonger than the winter, for there are creatures that have lain dormant ‘Whole Number 1164, for three or four years, and when brought into the warmth of the sun have hopped about as lively as ever. Toads have been found in the middle of trees fast asleep, und asthe tree has grown, so tle toad has slept, no one knows for how long. There are some little creatures that crawl into winter quarters that are not wholly asleep. They once in.a while breathe, and thie blood moves a little, though very sluggishly. Now and then, when the weather is warm, they wake up long enough to eat a little. These animals always lay up something close by, as we have said of the bee, when they go in- to winter quartérs, on purpose to have it handy. What a wonder- ful instinct this is in such smal] creatures ! The bat somnetimes wakes when it is warm, not often. He never lays by any thing for future use, and do you know why? Because the very gnats and insects on which he feeds wake up, too, with ‘the.same warmth, and he can catch them if le needs them. Among all the strange hiber- nating animals the bats are the strangest, hanging by their hind legs in clusters, sank in the deepest kind of sleep, and giving not the slightest indication of life. All the winter they hang thus, scarcely moving head or limb. No creature spends so much time in sleep as the bat; not only ly- ing dormant in the winter, but every day giving up to a strange sort of drowsiness, which is a good deal more than sleep, though not quite so deep as in the winter. Many writers say it is torpor from cold, but of late this has been «dis- puted, While asleep tl:e torpidity of the vital organs of the bat is very curious, and yet the outward parts have an irritability which cannot be accounted for. If you touch this creature when in this strange sleep he will wriggle about like a snake, and yet that same touch when awake would not affect him at all, while the tem- perature of the body is actually colder than in many cold-blooded animals. | Another little creature that we so often see, in our summer haunts, scudding ahout the grass in an odd kind of a fashion is the squirrel, sitting upright, with lis feathery tail curled like a parasol over his head, now picking up a beech nut, nibbling at it doubtfully, and then throwing it aside and hopping after anotlier. a
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. SEUTERT MAE Reta Cig ireT RN teh EG mga Ie Ma ge TU Sta a ee 70. Late in the fall he goes to sleep for the winter, aud if you could | find him and the *‘ cage”’ he is in, you could catch him soundly napping! ‘The squirrel has two homes, a summer and a winter house ; much better off than many of us. The summer one is lodipod 1 in the fork of some lofty branch and very plainly seen fromm below, and the winter is usually close to the trunk of* some goodly tree, where the chilly winds are broken by the large limbs against which it is placed, safely shielded from rain and storms by its weli-thatched roof, and warm, cozy lining. Here, snugly coiled away, the squirrel spends his winter in this strange sleep of ‘‘ hibernation,”? waking up once in a while, when a gleam of sunshine crosses his path, to tuke a little re- freshment from his storehouse of nuts, and then goes back to fall asleep again. Isn’t it strange that being so long asleep the squirrel should have so good a memory? For as soon as he wakes up he comes slowly out of his queer house, and runs to one of the spots where, along time ago, he laid up a store of, food, and scratches away until he has disclosed his treasure of nuts, takes as much as he needs and goes back home. Even whe the snow is all about him he is never at loss tu find the spot where he has gathered his treasurvs. A sort of third cousin of the squirrel is the Dormonk, one of the hibernators, too; he has his warm nest in some thick bush where he sleeps away his time, all winter long. Like the squirrel, be has his store of food tucked away in all sorts of nooks and corners. Ifthe weather is mild he will eat a good deal, but if it is severe, the drowsy creature will wake very seldom; but in any event they never eat up one half the pro- visions the Jarder contains! And, afier all, they were not gathered so much for winter use as for the first long weeks of spring, when the little animal is beginning ta shake off his drowsiness and getting back to his lively habits, though not quite ready to supply a stock of food! The hedge-hog is an- other hibernator, muvh like the. other two. In fact all these creatures can be found sleeping in their homes in this way! We cannot realize, of a cold winter’s day,thow the ground beneath our feet is teeming with life; living animals, insccts, and even pupe, though this is a different branch of the sub- ject. The chrysalis is not hibernation, nor is it death. This is alla great mystery and has wonderful meaning, and won- derfu) developments. Only he who created can interpret them. And in the early spring, how much of life is waking up out of this deep sleep! The whole earth swarms with vast multitudes of busy creatures that were out of sight all winter long. Year: after year they come forth with the sunshine to do the work assigned them, and they always do it well! A French Peasant’s Spectacles. ‘* ly it weren’t for the bad water, our fellows would do well enough here,” said Captain Adolphe Lachand, as we sat to- gether under: the friendly shade of a ciuster of ‘alin tren just outside the little white fort of Biskra, with the grey unending level of the Sahara Desert stretching dim and lifeless all around us. ‘But as it is there’s hardly a man in the garrison who hasn’t got the ‘Biskra sores’ round his eyes, and some are so bad as to be invalided outright.” ‘It’s a pity,’”? observed I, ‘* that you can’t provide them with spectacles like those in the advertisement, ‘ warranted to pre- vent all diseases of the eyes, and cure any which may have been a'ready contracted.’ ”” ‘* Well,”’ suid the captain, laughing, ‘I remember a man, not fur from my native town, who credited ordinary spectacles with much more wonderful powers than those.”’ ‘* How was tliat.?’’ asked I, guessing by the twinkle in ‘5: chand’s keen black eyes that something good was coming. “* Well, you see, there was a fair one day at Guingamp—you re- member the old.three-cornered market-place there, with the queer fountain in the middle? Old Pierre Roquard, the opti- ciun (who told me the story himself), was standing in the door- way of his shop at the corner, watching the carts and people crowding in, when up came a big fellow of the regular country type, with the usual blue blouse and wooden sabots, and a short pipe in his mouth. “«¢ Show me some pairs of spectactes,’ said he. ‘* Pierre brought hiin out several. ‘Tie man put one on, and asked for a newspaper, to try how the glasses worked. No good! He tried three or four more pairs, but it was just the sume story with them. ‘“‘Roquard began to tink him rather hard to please, but he brought out a fresh lot, until this fastidious customer had tried ull the best glasses in the shop; but still, as sure as he bent down over the newspaper he shook his head as if he could make nothing of il, and Pierre began to get quite out of patience, “All at once a fearful thought struck the optician, and he turned upon the man with a face like a thousand thunders. ‘“s Hark ye, fellow,’ cried he sternly ; ‘have you ever learned toread?? ‘** No, of course not!’ answered the peasant indignantly. ‘If | I had, wha think you would be the good of buy ing eee to teach me?’ ”— David Ker. ' Au, how skillful grows the hand That obeyeth Love’s command! It is the heart and not the brain That to the highest doth attain, And he who followeth Love’s behest Far excelleth all the rest,--Longfellaw, Lesson Helps for Young Bereans. SUNDAY, MAY 20. - Gethsemane. ‘Yhis was the name of a garden in which Jcsus und his disciples often sat down torest. It was on the east side of the city of Jerusalem, separated from it by the brook Kedron, and at the fuot of the Mount of Olives. There were o gardens in the city except a few gardens of roses which had been there since the days of the prophets, This was the gar- cen of olives. Jesus and his disciples went there after the sup- per. Alas! oneof the disciples was missing! J udas had gone away to betray his Lord. Jesus praying. Does it seem strange that Jesus should need to pray? We must remember that, although Jesus was God, he had a human nature too, and that human nature made him our brother. He had needs as we have; he:wus tempted as we are, und he needed to talk with his Father about it all as we do. Jesus told the disciples to stay by themselves while he went apart to pray. But he asked Peter aud James and John to come a little further and watch with him while he prayed. ** Hauceeding sorrowful.” This is what Jesus said he was. As a man, pain and suffering looked hard to him as they do to us. But as God, he saw that this was the only way to save a world of lost sinners. The ‘“‘cup” of sorrow which he saw was the bitter pain and shame of the death just before him. And then Jesus suffered what we can never understand—the weight of our sins! No wonder that his soul was ‘ exceeding sorrowful,” and-that he fell on his face and prayed that the cup might pass from him if it were his Father’s will. ‘© Watch with me.’ This was what Jesus asked the disciples todo. He was carrying a heavy burden. He wanted them to help him by their Jove and sympathy. he found them asleep! They were tired and troubled, and they had forgotten that Jesus said, ‘“* Watch with me.” “ Thy will be done.’ Again Jesus went away and prayed, and he told his Father that if this was the way, he would drink the cup of pain and shame. Jesus was willing to deny self. His own sorrow was nothing, when he saw that it was the Father’s will. One more drop of pain in his cup was to find that even his dear disciples eared so little for his sorrow that they could sleep while he was suffering. But even to this, he said, ‘* Thy will be done.” ‘*OQ Lamb of God! was-ever pain, Was ever love like thine! ”’ *“* The hour is at hand.” ‘The third time Jesus came and found the disciples sleeping. But now he knew that the time was come when he should be given into the hands of wicked men. Now the time to watch and pray was past. Jesus and the disciples must now go forth to meet whatever lay before them. SUNDAY, MAY 27. Jesus mocked. It wasin the night that Jesus was taken by the soldiers. Judas gave them a sign hy which they might. know Jesus, and the men took him and led him away to Caia- plas, the high-pricst. The disciples were afraid and ran away, but Peter followed at a distance. Perbaps he saw how tlic wicked men spit on bis dear Master, and struck him with their hands, and spoke mocking words to him. Think of it! Lord of heaven and earth treated in this way ! Half-hearted Peter. Peter did not want to be known; so he sat down among the servants near a fire. He was waiting to sce what would be done with Jesus. He wanted to get as near his Master as possible, and yet keep out of danger. Sometimes Christian boys and girls are careful not to get too near Jcsus. They are afraid of ridicule, perhaps, or fearful that they may lose some pleasure if they are too ‘* good.” Let us see what Peter gained by his half-hear tedness. Peter recognized. A maid servant saw Peter, and ania, “Thou wast with Jesus of Galilee.’ There had been times when Peter would’ have been proud to hear this. But now every one was agiinst Jesus, and Peter was not only ashamed, but afraid to be known as a disciple. Now his half-hearted love bears fruit. He denies it before all, and says, ‘I know not what thou sayest.”? Soon another came and said the same thing; but again Peter denicd, and this time with an oath. He was not afraid to lic und swear, but he was afraid to be known as a friend of Jesus! And now others hegan to say that Peter must be one of the friends of Jesus, for he was a native of Gal ilee ; they knew this by his manner of speech. Then frightened Peter began to curse and swear loudly, and to declare that he did not know Jesus ! Peter reminded. Just as Peter declared that he did not know Jesus, he heard a cock crow. Theu he remembered that only a little before, when he had boasted that, even if every body else forsook Jesus, he would not, the Master had told him that befor2 the cock crew he would deny him! . Peter did not believe this, now he saw that Jesus knew just what a sinful heart he had. Peter did not know his heart, and we do not know our hearts. Peter repenting. Jesus tur ned and looked upon Peter. O, what love and pain was in that look! Peter thought that very likely Jesus would be put to death, and he would have no chance to ask his forgiveness. Then how he wept! You do not wonder? O, it is asad, sud thing to displease a loving friend. But how much worse to displease the greatest of all friends. Peter's strength and weakness. Peter had thought he was very strong. He found that he was very weak. We shall always find ourselves weak when we are not getting all our strength from God, Peter’s strength was weakness; so is ours. But -|G d- who wants us to have real strength j is willing to come and live in us and be our strength, When he came to them’ The eee SS ALY SN a ee ee ae a Salers ae S UND A¥-SCHOOL ADVOCATE LITTLE STUDENTS’ CORNER. PLEASANT HOURS WITH GREAT AUTHORS— Charles Dickens. EMMA J. WOOD. Asout thirty miles from London, in the town of Chatham, on what is known as Gad’s Hill, stands a low, old-fashioned, red brick house. Although comfortable looking enough, no one would ever think vf going far to see it, had it not been that here for a while lived, and here died, one of England’s most popular story writers, Charles Dickens. He was born at a place called Landport in 1812. When only two years old his parents moved to Lonilon, and of course the baby was not left behind. Here they stayed for two years, when they went to Chatham, but not to the great house on the hill, for the Dickens family had none too much money, although they were quite comfortable at this time. They lived here till the boy was nine years old, and very happy years were these! His mother taught him to read, and then with his older sister Funny he was sent to scho |]. He was not fend of rough sports like the otler boys, so a good deal of the time he amused himself in his own way. He and his sister used to watch the stars together aud try to make friends with them, especially with one which they called their own star. Then the ‘* very quecr small boy,” for so the people called him, was fond of getting up on a table or a chair and telling a long story out of his own head, or singing a comic song, in that swect voice of his that people always stopped to listen to. He would always act plays when he could get his playmates to act with hin, When only nine he wrote a little play all by himself called ** Misnar, the Sultan of Turkey.” About this time the fumily went back to London, and the happy childhood days were over; for they had to go without many a thing that they had reali needed, Then the boy, or one of his sisters or brothers, would be sent with the Arabian Nights or-some other of his much loved books to the pawnbroker’s shop, to sell them. They were getting more and more in debt; so his mother set up a school, but it was of little use; the bills came in thicker and faster and his father was sent to prison because he could not pay them. Charles Dickens, now about ten, went to work in a blacking house, past- ing labels on the bottics or boxes, whichever they were. Every Sunday night he went to see his parents in the prison, but the rest of the time he was alone and had to take care of himself. These were hard times for the poor boy; but what is the use of going over it all, when it may be read in David Cop- perfield, where Dickens told it so much better than any one else possibly can; for David Copperfield is said to be Charles Dickens changed only enough to make the story come out all right. But better duys came; and for two or three years the boy was at school having a good time with his studies, and a better time writing stories and acting plays. lawyer’s office, and then a reporter; in both of which places he worked hard and did his very best, as he ulways did, what-’ ever he undertook. One day he dropped a letter ats the letter-box of the Monthly Magazine. Shortly after this was published, and Dickens. was as proud as proud could be when he saw it, for instead of being a reul letter it was a funny piece that he had written for the magazine. This was the beginning and he kept right on his whole life long, writing short sketches and long stories, nearly every one of which the publishers were glad to get, even if they had to pay a large price for it. And: what queer books these made! Every one filled full of all sorts of people, grave and funny, old and young, rich and poor, and ull of them just themselves, They are no more mixed up with each other than are the real people that live outside of books. Dickens was very fond of children. He was the chief play- fellow of his own little ones, and the biggest boy of them all. He jumped out of bed one night to practice somethiug for the birthday of one of them. It was for his-son that he wrote the Child’s History of England, that so many little boys have read since that day. Once, when traveling without his family, he wrote that he kissed nearly every child he met, thinking of those at home. May be it was because he loved children so well that he wus sure to have them in his books. There are little Nell, Paul Dombey, and his sister Florence that seem as if they must have been alive und lived next door, so we!l are they known and so sorry is every body for their troubles. Dickens was a great traveler. He visited several of the countries of Europe, and then came across to the United States. The people here made a great fuss over him. They shook hands with him till he was lame, gave him so many good din- ners that he was almost ill, and invited him out to so many different: places that he sear oly knew where to go first. They tried so hard to make him have a good time that they did not leave him a minute in which to do as he pleased. As he wrote to a friend, **I can do nothing that I want to do, go nowhere where I want to go, and see nothing that I want to see.” In 1857 he bought his house on Gad’s Hill, It seems that when a boy in Chatham he would look at this house, with its great cedars about it, and think it the prettiest he had ever seen. His father useil to tell him that, if he were clever, when he grew aman he might own that house or another like it, and sure enough he did. His first visitor in his new home was Hans Christian Andersen, the man who wrote beautiful fairy tales. Dickens wanted to know what was really thought of his works, so he coneluded to read parts of them aloud. This he did in several places in England and Scotland and then crossed the oeean once more to America. This brought a good deal of money, for every body wanted to hear him, but it was such hard work that he had togive it up, Ile dicd June 9, 1870, aid was buried in Westminster Abbey, eel TPO e Next, he was clerk in a 4 |
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ot skint saa SUNDAY-SCHOOTL ooo SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAY 12. ADVOCATE. 18$ 8. J. H. VINCENT, Editor. MARTHA VAN MARTER, Assistant Editor. The Little Sea-Maid. Hans CuristisN ANDERSEN, that writer of wonderful ae beautiful fairy tales, ocean, in which aie had set up the white niarble image of a | prinee. The story suys that this image had been:dropped from a | vessel that was wrecked, many winters oefore, but the five older sisters of the little maid had not eared enough for the White Image to set it up in their gardens. So it was Icfi for the child of the family to rescue and cherish. In this, as in all of Andersen's fairy tales, there is a beauti- ful meaning concealed. The little sca-maid could never have obtained this lovely image herself; it was given her from ubove. is the gentle Christ to be cherished in the heart, It was the child of the family who saw the beauty of the a image, and so itis the child-leart always that sees the beauty | of the dear Christ, and longs to enshrine him in some sacred | place. O, that all the Apvooats children were like the little sea- mah: in accepting and prizing the White Ima:e that comes down from above, and asks a place in their hearts! A very small warden may be avery beantiful and fragrant spot, and just so au very young heart may be a. very dear rest- | ing place for the Lord Jesus. White Clover. My little maiden came to me, Her small hands brimming over, Not with the garden’s choicest flowers, But only sweet, white clover. ] took her gift, the while my thought The long ycais traveled over— When I, like her, with busy hands Made wreaths of sweet white clover. The green fields stretch before my eye, To far-off tones I listen ; The while, beneath a summer sky, I see the blue waves glisien. I dream my childish dreams again, In fairy land a rover, A magic garland, this, I ween, Though only sweet, white clover. Yet much of life’s best sweetness we In homely things discover, As honey-bees pass gaudy flowers, To seek the low, white clover. —Mrs, Lucy Randolph Fleming. a How He Told His Own Tale. ALICE M. BALL. He was a black dog with white tips. We found him for | sule, my sister and I, at a house where we had called with other. chitaien to see the puppies that were on exhibi::on there. The dog manded in exchange was paid, and dogyie transferred to our own room at home. | How well I remember the peculiarly interesting phiz of that small canine, Several white teeth were to be seen as we looked doggie in the face, giving him the appearance, as we children express it, of being ‘on a broad grin.’?. [Lowever inappro- priate the name chosen seems to us now, we calle! our dog Mineck, and he received a large s!are of our attention and esteem. dogs. The white tips I have mentioned pei tained to fect, nose, and the extreme cnd of a somewhat long, slim tail. One day when Minck had become well grown and after an out-of-door scamper with us girls had lain down on our kitting roonr floor to rest, he espie|!, for the first time apparently, the white tip on his tail. Ishall never forget the appearance of sur- prise, and it seemed to me then something closely akin to dis- gust, with which our dog tovk deliberate observation of that white-tipped tail, After a while he growled g:uffiy and began to bite the white hair wi b a vengeance. Those of our family in the room at the time laughed, Doggie looked at us, back at his tail, and then at us again, as if he said, ** That white tip és astrange thing ; isn’t it? and J shall get rid of itif I ean.’ Jump- ing tohis feet he began ciasing the tail around. We were greatly amused au] laughed heartily. That proved to be but the beginning of a long series of performances funny in the ex- treme. knowledge that we were interested and amused by a tail chase to begin action atany time or plaice. We juveniles soon learned t' at we had but to exclaim ha! ha! Minck!” clapping our | hands at the same moment, to set him whirling like atop. Very often when visitors wished to witness the fuany performanee, ote SRR eT EEE TIT TTT PNT IE LE FE LL TI oe NIN PN LT IONE EILEEN EE LI IE IN OO a ae LL TE TE LIES tells » charming story. of a little sea-— maiden who had a garden far down under the waters of the The garden is the heart-garaen, and the White Image & I still think of him as one of the most intelligent of, Qur dog seemed to require nothing more than the | ————— —— : ! | | : f E | we have waked doggie from a sound sleep by those mirthful ', xclamations. Taking in the situation at a glance he seenied to | say, “* These people wish to see a tail-chase, do they ? All right.” Then away he would spin, round and unit: until his head grew clizzy anil his legs began to stagger. reverse the motion, and halting suddenly in the midst of a series of whirls would turn the other way. When he found it im- possible to stan'| a moment longer, he woul drop to the floor | siill growling and biting the white ka fiercely. When we had had our pet about two years our father died. Find- ing us sitting with bowed heads and tearful eyes, the strange little creature in our grief’ came and looked up at us in the most | away, but came again and still again. Failing to gain the desired attention, he at length began to chase his tail, looking around as if to say, “ Don’t be sad; laugh and be merry as of old.” Tie last winter that Minck lived, the writer was ill, and an elderly woman came to be with us as an assistant and compan- ion through the dreary months. Ours was a farm-house on a conntry road where there was little shit The | old lady. living treaty anxious, when sleig’ -hells were heard, to know all that could be known by observation from our window about the | people passing. Our wide-awake dog scemed possessed by the same spirit. Often, as the former sat knitting quietly before the grate with doggie sleeping soundly not far away, I have seen both brought instantly to their feet by the sudden sound of sleigh-bells, while they seemed to vie with one‘another in their almo-t frantic efforts to see-which would reach the window first. We sometimes wonder if any one passing that country home took notice of those two faces at our window; an elderly woman’s underneath cap, grey Siair and glasses, and just below, with white paws upon the sill, a dog face as full of eager interest as the human one beside it. | pathetic manner. Missing the customary greeting he turned | The winter of ’62 was one of unusually heavy snow. Huge| ‘drifts lay piled above the fences and about our door. A light tap at the window as we saw our dog walking about on the shiny -erust outside would set him in pursuit of his tail at once, and thus we sometimes amused strangers that were passing, aint our ‘ that was to become a member of oar househo!d was soon selected, | schoolmates very often. and when the consent of our parents was gained, the sum sie One year later Minek grew hoarse and suddenly lost the use of his legs. At sight of water he would turn and endeavor to drag himself away. For three days he thus lived among us. Our minister calied that third day and, learning particulars, told us the great danger he believed was close upon us. We had our dog kiiled immediately. Careful investigation as to symp- toms of hydrophobia soon afterward proved how timely the warning had been given. | With an unwavering trust our widowed mother had com- ' mitted herself and her children to that Friend who has prom- ised to give his angels charge concerning those who trust him ‘to kcep them in all their ways. Recalling those few days at that | lonely furm-house home, threatened by a fate that has since | been shown us in some of its awful bearings, remembering the | merciful Providence that so kindly overruled and made a way for our escape, we thank Him who thus preserved and deliv- cred us most fervently indeed. An now and then we fondly recall the memory of that laughing companion of our childhood, who, among other pecu- liarities, could tell his own tale. How Ferns Grow. BY SUSIE E. KENNEDY. I want to gather a group of little wide-awake children around me this afternoon, to tell you something about ferns, that you may learn to love them as well as | do, A ADVOCA fae He soon learned to | | sieves. /4*Ts it true?” 71 We may tuke «a good miteroscope and cxamine very closely, but we shall not find éve: the tiniest flower, and yet, do you _ know, the new plants come from seed ? and it is this curious kind of Dara T want to tell you about. Zhe leavis of ferns are not called leaves, but fronds, and : these hold the little seed-germs in cups on the under side in the form of a very small grain, which wise people, who know a good deal about flowers, call sord. This queer little ine seems to the naked eye to be nothins but a very fine powder, but with the aid of a microscope we shall see in the center a tiny organ called sporangia, and this ‘surrounded by a ring ' called spores. |. spores, but examined very closely we find all the parts of which '; 1 am telling you. culled annulus, und «a number of cells The whole germ taken together we often cai! They are not truly seeds, you sce, though they answer the same purpose, amd are always ready to settle down in a home of their own, whenever they can find a place to suit thei. Shall I tell you how the new plant begins? Little cells are thrust out from that curieus organ in the center of the germ, -wiich burst their covering and grow into a leafy-lookiny ex- pansion which forms itself into a bud, and then a plant. It is curious to watch the tiny frond’ unrolling themselves in the spring, and see the odd-looking bulls opening out into a beautiful plant. If we choose we may transplant it to our gar- , 4 dens, where we can watch its pretty growth without the trouble SN) oof a walk to the woods. S| | quantity of the wood-earth of its uative ieme, and give plenty | of water for some time. But we must be sure to take up a good Not So Fast. “OQ, mamma, I heard such a tule about Edith. I did not think she could be so naughty.” ‘“ My dear, before you tell it, let your story pass the three In the first pluce, is your story true?” ‘‘T vot it trom Miss White. She is a friend of Edith’s.” “Does she show her friendship by telling tales of her? | Next, though true, is it kind?” | ‘““[ did not mein to be unkind, but I am afraid it was, 1 woud not like Edith to speak of me as I have spoken of her,” ‘“* Aud is it necessary ?” ‘* No, there was no need of me to mention it.” As we put flour in sieves to get the good apart from the bad, so let us ask, when we are going to say something about others, **Is it kind?” ‘Is it necessary ??’—Se/, Two Little Fellows. I know a little fellow Whose face is fair to sce ; But still there’s nothing pleasant About that face to me; For he’s rude and cross and selfish If he cannot have his way, And he’s always making trouble, I’ve heard his mother say. I know a little fellow W hose face is plain to see ; But that we rever think of, So kind and brave is he. He carries sunshine with him, And every body’s glad To hear the cheery whistle Of the pleasant little lad. You see it’s not the features That others judge us by, But what we do, I tell you, And that you can’t deny. The plainest face hus beauty If its vwner’s kind and true; And that’s the kind of beauty, My girl and boy, for you, — Golden Days, er, ae ‘‘] woutp not give much for your religion unless it can be seen. Lamps do no not talk, but they do shine, -A light-house sounds no drum, it beats no gong; and yet far over the waters Perhaps because they have no flowers, you have never cared } its friendly spark is seen by the mariner, So let your actions partigylarly for them, but 1 hope you will come to think that |.shine in your religion. Let the main sermon of your life he their pretty, graceful form fully makes up for their lack of! {llustrated by all your canduet, ang it shall not fail to be il- lustrious,”? blossoms, as
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Se NE Se eT OTe _a barrel of ‘things to the mission. a aha “aia ‘Or thifty — SUNDAY-SCHOOL ADVOCATE [Answers to questions in the Bay WinDow, and all letters designed for it, may. be ad- dressed to Miss..Manrita VAN MARTER, 805 Broadw ay, New York. 1 THERE is a charming little ange song which all the children’ ought to sing. This 1 is the way it goes : ‘Merry May, © Makes all gay, Makes the blood Tight briskly play’: ~ To fresh air We'll repair, Weave us ‘garlands fair.” It is all true,‘and you are proving it, these very days. But wait a ‘little. Some children cannot get out into the great, beautiful world these lovely days. Some ure sick, and many, @ how many, live inthe close streets of the gréat cities. Where are the Flower Mission Bands? What are you, dear little country girls and boys, going to do to-.help bring sun- | It is not too late shine to some sad little heart this summer ? to start a little garden even now, and then there are all the treasures of the woods and fields ! Our first letter is a charming one. God bless these earnest workers, every one! . ae “ Prarn Crry, 0. “ Dear Bay Wwhidow's Thinking you would like to hear about our “* Missionary Gleaners’ Band” in this place, we will tell you. (We are educating a dear little girl in Tiidia* for the mission work. We meet once a month and make articles to sell, and have a fair once a year. Already this year we have made over forty-two dollars. We also presented the W. F. M.S. with-fifteen dollars.’ Not long ago, our little girl wrote us a letter desiring our photographs and we are going to get them next Saturday. There are thirty-five members in our society and our dues are sixty cents a year for each individual. On Christmas we presented our president with a handsome sofa pillow and a missionary quilt with one hundred and forty=} —) four names onit. We are having very good mectings at present, thirty-seven have united with the Church, eighteen of whom are children.. We have children’s meetings on Sunday afternoons which are very enjoyable. We enjoy your paper so as and we know that you will print this for us. « | Eruer Hacer AND Berrua Siri.” - ‘‘ Davin Crry, Nes. ¥ Dea Bay Window : Tama little New Hampshire girl, liv- 4 ing away out here. Iam eight years old. 1 like to run on the | broad prairies, better than to climb the stecp mountains in the East. We had a: ‘eyclone which tore down our school-house. So we have no schobl 1 now, Your friend, Mazsux Russe.” But the steep ‘mountains hold the winds in check, and the school-houses are left standing! _ The prairies are beautiful, if | the cyclones and blizzards are not. ' ‘* LOUISIANA, Mo. *“ Dear Bay Windaw - L am a little girl twelve years old. [ am a cripple in the left hip. I have a step-mother and she is very kind to me. I-go to Sunday-school and belong to the Methodist Church. AwntE M, MELCHERTSEN.”’ The great Bay Window family will send loving thoughts and prayers to the ‘déar little girl who cannot run and play’ freely like other children. And they will ask the dear Father to muke it all up to her in some sweet way. Annic’s sister Georgie also writes a little letter, which we cannot print, but - for which we thank her. ‘* BERGEN, Minn. “ Dear Bay Window 1 am a little boy eight years old. I go to Sunduy-school. My mamma died when I was only three weeks old. I have lived with my grandfather ever sinec. I want to make a good man. every Tuesday night. 1 want *to surprise grandfather by letting him read my letter in print... Yours lovingly, _ “Bennie Ger.” How shall Bennie set about making « good man? It is very simple; lie will have to begin with the hey: The man of to- morrow is the boy of to-day.. ; | ** CHERuBusCO, Inp. _“ Dear Window :. hi am a girl nine years old. My brother Eugene has a blue 2 -cat,-named Arrow. I have a bird named Jennie Lind. I belong to the missionary society. It is named ‘ Willing Workers for Jesus.’? We have pieced one comfort, and are going to piece another. We are going to send We: mect every two weeks on Saturdily ‘afternoon, and give‘a:penny | eich time. We have ‘Yours truly; shorts ‘4 PERsIS Ruopes, ‘ ang vl “se 3 : Ton ‘ teeta “Is rat blue ati hafta Sag for cats, . wear’ But probably “© Arrow did | not ‘choose her dress. | ber that Jesus gave his life for them ! -|to do all we can for the little heathen girls. | | th A eonsonant. ‘We have prayer-meeting here ] | Smith, W. W. Jehnson, Ada E, Smith, Willie Riebel, R. P. ** New Lonpon, Conn. © Dear Bay Window: 1 am a boy ten years old, and I love dear Jesus who guve his life for me. I belong to a mission band called ‘ Cheerful Givers.’ We meet the first Saturday in {every month, and we have children’s meeting every Sunday afternoon. Yours truly, Harry M. Hotmes.”’ The children cannot help being cheerful givers who rem: m- ** Date, Inv. ‘* Dear Bay Window: Lam a little girl eight years old. I have a dear grandpa, and he is living with us this winter. I love to wait on him, and we have a nice time. I have an organ, four dolls, three chickens, and one bird. His name is Dick. *¢ Your little friend, Magater M. ‘THompson.” Grandpa has a nice tine too, we are sure, with a dear little girl to wait on him who loves to do it. We can never be too kind to old people. Maggie is laying up pleasant memories for the future. . “ Kipper, Mo. ? Distr hay Window: 1 am a boy twelve years old. My eluss in Sunday-school is called the ‘ Wide-Awakes.’ I have one sister and two brothers. Ma talks of udopting a poor litile girl three years old. My pets are a yoke of oxen two years old, and a span of little mules six months old. ‘* Yours kindly, Eppit Batpwin.”’ _A “kindly” boy, who loves dumb animais, will be sure to welcome and help to make happy the poor little girl who bas no home, - ‘‘Osage Acency, Inv. TER. “ Dear Bay Window : 1 am a boy ten yearsold. I live among the Indians, and my futher is an Indian trader. We have Sun- day-school and church now. Yours truly, . “Kart M. Hartiey.” A good many Bay Window readers would be glad if Earl would write a letter about Indian children. . *¢ Atta, Lowa. ““ Dear Bay Window: 1 um a girl eleven years old. My father is the Methodist minister in this place. I belong toa missionary socicty called the ‘ Light Bearers.’ We are anxious We have fifteen members. Yours truly, Lita Smy ig,”’ Light Bearers must have their lights burning brightly or they will not help much. Leila asks what L. L. means, No doubt she has learned before this, as the same question has been answered so recently. PUZZLE BOX, DIAMOND. 2. A kind of grain. A consonant, 8. An Eng)ish poet. 4. A — 5. ANNIE E. Sanrorp. HIDDEN CITIES. . Please, papa, rise from your seat. .. Are natives. of Europe kin to those of Anieric:. ? . He came up hill on donkey cart. . Remember, “ line upon line.”’ . Did you get the ox for David ? . She took some washing to-night for the first. Katie R. Sayre, ao oP © bo Fe PRINTER’S PI. Rhoon byt thefar nad yth throme, Fiuorencr ©. Wuayte. HIDDEN AOROSTIC. In give, not in keep; In girl, not in boy ; In cat, not in dog; . In month, not in year; _ In oak, not in pine; In red, not in blue; In horse, not in colt; _In you, not in me; In gold, not in silver; In love, not in hate; Whole, a eelubrated French author. JoHN AND WALTER TrpneEts. ' EASY ENIGMA. I am composed of eleven letters. ‘My 4, 2, 8, is a number. My 6, 5,1, isacolor. My 10, 9,7, 8, isa heavenly body. My 11,7, 8, is a:personal pronoun. My whole is one of the books of the Bible. B. Haypen Hartin. | ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN ADVOCATE OF MARCH 10, Cross-Word Enigma: Booth. Square Word: 1. Rent. 2 Ever. 3. Nero. 4. Trod. Curtailments: 1. Card-Car. 2. Lead-Lea. 8. Wood-Woo. 4. Warp-War. Printer’s Pi: *¢ Charity begins at home.’? Easy Enigma: Longfellow. Complete sets of answers have been received trom Bird Betts, Eva Kettlewell, Lloyd Cooper, Molly Reiter, Christine Peters, Sylvia Darrel, Edith Baker, Gussie Walter, Etta Crow- hurst, H. B. M’Laugblin. have found out,” s ik Work and Play. A PRETTY ORNAMENT. DissoLvz in seven different tumblers containing warm water, half ounces of sulphate of iron, copper, zine, soda, alumina, magnesia, and potash. Pour thei all, when completely dissolved, into a large flat dish, and stir the whole with a glass rod or bit of broken glass for a while. Place the dish in a warm place whereit will be free from dust and will not beshaken. After due evap- oration has taken place, the whole will begin to shoot out into crystals. These will be of various colors and forms, some little ones being gathered together in small groups, and other larger ones scattered throughout the whole fluid. By a little careful study you will soon be able to distinguish each crystal separately from its pecu- liar form and color, thus learning an interesting lesson in chemistry, while making a beautiful ornament for your room. Be sure and preserve it carefully from dust. A MINERAL GARDEN. Fill a clear glass jar wit sand to the depth of two or three inches; insert a few pieces of sulphate of iron, sulphate of copper, and sulphate of aluminum, so that they will be bareiy covered by the sand. Now fill the jar to within about three inches of the top with a solu- tion of silicate of soda, commonly known as “water glass,” which can be found at most large city drug stores. This should be diluted with three times its bulk of water before it is poured in; and care should be taken not to stir up the sand and disarrange the chemi- cals. After standing about a week, the silicates of the vari- ous bases will appear in a luxuriant and variously col- ored growth, resembling vegetation. Now the silicate solution may be displaced with clear water, which should be poured in very carefully so as not to break or disturb the vegetation. This miniature forest will be very attractive, and as no pruning or weeding are required, the young gardener will probably feel that his trouble is well repaid. Its development from day to day will be watched with interest by all the members of the household, al- | though it will be of special value to the invalid to whom any new and interesting object to watch is a blessing indeed.—WSel. Well Argued. Sometimes it happens that when children are set to reasoning, they come out with very odd conclusions. It is not their fault; they often show quite as much inge- nuity as we older peuple have at command. ‘The only trouble is that they have too small a supply of facts to support a train of reasoning. ‘‘ How did the Queen of Sheba travel vie: she went to see Solomon?” asked Miss R—— of her Sunday- school class of little girls. Ne one. ventured an answer. “Tf you had studied the lesson thoroughly you would aid the teacher. ‘Now look over the verses again.” : | * Oould she have gone by the cars?” continued Miss , as the children consulted their Looks, but ap- peared to arrive at no conclusion. “ Yes’m,” said a little girl at the end of the class. “She went by the steam-cars.” ‘* Did she, indeed ? ; found that out? ’” ‘“In the verse,” responded the child, “it says she came with a very great train.” SS — —_—— —— {| Entered at the Post-office at New York,N.Y., as second-class matter. | SUNDAY-SCHOOL PERIODICALS. SUNDAY-SCHOOL ADVOCATE, semi-monthly, per year.. $0 25 Six copies and.upward to one address, each 16 Our Youth, weekly, for young people and their teachers....... I 50 Sunday- School Classmate, semi-monthly, per year... ...... ea -. $ix copies and upward to one address, each........°..2... 16 Sunday-School Journal, monthly, a lesson belp.........i.2.. Longs Six copies and ‘upward to one address, each........... . oe 55 Picture Lesson Paper, monthly, for primary meres eet ee - 25 Six copies and upward to one adds weksceache |. i. bo. yikisiis: 20 Beginners’ Leaf, quarterly, for intermediate scholars Rees A 06 Berean Leaf, quarterly, for junior scholars........ {Fak Gie- ans 06 Senior Leaf, quarterly, for advanced scholars ............ LAuNo 8 Oo Leaf Cluster, quarterly, (including The Study).,....... sal ciac totes pally OO Colored illustrations on the lessons. ; The Study, quarterly, for superintendents and primary teachers “50 Address Purtiips & Hunt, 805 Broadway, New York. ys Se, women ees & STOWE, Cincinnati, Chicago and St. Louis. Well, Louisa, tell me how you »