The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on December 23, 1891 · Page 8
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 8

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Algona, Iowa
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Wednesday, December 23, 1891
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THE tlPPER DBSi MOlNEg. ALGONA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23,i J891 tto* the. wind did blo<V that 24th of December! The papnra said It wns n north wind. However that may have been 1 do not know, but if it was A north wind originally it had become sillily mixed, since eta'rtlng out, as to tho points of the compass, for now it blew from all directions. A gentleman ascending the stops of ft hatfdHomo ntorto mansion shivered as a blast struck him, unit hastened Ills steps to roach the shelter of his house. Mot until he had applied his latchkey did lie become aware of the fact Unit there were other stops than his upon tho stones. Hu turned and behold two Bmull, very Htniill, figures— a boy and a girl — laboriously mounting upward. "Hollo there! whore did you como fro nip" he asked In astonishment, look- lug down nt tho two rnlilgota now Standing beside him on the doorstep. "I want to see Miss Hazel," said tho boy, panting for breath after his late exertions. ••Oh, you want to see Miss Hazel, do youP Well," with a sigh, "I only wish Miss Hazel could see you. But us I want to see her, too," throwing open tho door, "I'll nee what I can do for you. John," to the servant, who oamo forward to relievo him of his overcoat, ''Is Miss Hazel in her room?" "Yes, sir," was the reply. Mr. Raymond turned to the children with a smile. "Now, If you'll follow mo," ho said, "I'll try to got you an audience with her majesty." Tho children eyed him doubtfully; they did not understand his banter, ib.ut they trusted his face. So, still clasping each other by the hand, they followed him down the riolily uarpolod hall, through a silken-draped areli, in•to n smaller hall, then through another •nrch into a marblo-imved mile-room. Thence they went Into a room that looked like fairyland — it was so full of flowers. There were two persons in tho room. Ono.a middle-aged woman, was sitting before tho lire with her 'back to the door, The oilier, whoso face was turned toward the door, was ft young girl of about 10. She was reclining lazily in a huge velvet uhair, with her head resting against the back. One slim hand hung over the arm of tho chair, while with the other she caressed a large black cat that was dozing contentedly In her lap. Hut tho sound of footsteps in the room roused her, and she turned her dead and looked toward the door. Looked, did 1 sayP Ah, no; appeared to look, for she was blind. Well might lior father envy the poorest workman, passing the house with Ills bright-faced daughter upon his arm, for the most 'humble Unit which lie, with all his wealth, could nut get for his darling. They wore poor in money lie knew; und yet even they were happier than his daughter. He tried to put away sueli thoughts. He tried to remember what night it was; and crossing over to Hazel's chair, said as cheerily as lie could: "It is only;!, my lady. And I have brought .you two visitors." "Who?" she asked in astonishment. Visitors were rare In her solitary life. "Don't ask mo," ho said gayly. '•They may bo elves from fairyland for nil I know. I only know "I found them on the steps like two belated Brownies, and they said they wanted to see you, HO 1 bVouglit them in to your ladyship." "It's Mrs. Dicksou's little boy with the sewing. You know she promised to send it lo-iilghl," said the woman, who had risen from her seat at ilie vntranee of Mr. Raymond. She immediately relieved the boy of a bundle wliiuli ho had carried. Meanwhile the little girl, attracted by the sight of the oat, had crossed the room; and, laying her hand on tho soft fur, said softly: » -Pretty. pretty kilty." "YVfiy, who are you?" said Hazel, turning her head in the direction of the voice. "YVhy, Tom, 1 didn't know yon had any sister." "She ain't my sister," Sturdily, "She's my mother died and will) us," "Oh, look, look," said the child, excitedly, tugging at Hazel's sleeve. "Look at the kilty open her mouth. ' ' up on the arm of llio chair nful laid her soft cheek against Hazel's. "Oh. puor, poor, girl in." Hnznt put her wrift lovingly around the childish form. •? ; ";• ^ •-'. , "If yon wcrp ittj? state?,; dear. yoO would "sen for mo, wouldn't you?' 1 she said, attempting to laugh. Her father, standing on the other side of the fireplace, started at those last words, looked ^ qtiicklv at his daughter and then at tup chfld beside her." When ho turned again to thd tiro there was a determined gleam itj his eyes and he said, Inwardly'. "I'll do it,-and for Christmas. Queer 1 never thought of It before.*' Tho next morning as Hazel was sit* ting alone before the lire she hoard the sound '»f little feet crossing the floor* Nearer and nearer they came until they slopped beside her. Them somebody climbed up on the chair, two soft arms stole around her neck, and a voice she recognized as that of her child visitor the night before said: "I've come to bo your sister, I'm your Christmas present." nSlinll I lift tho curtain once more and show you a pretty scone from a New Hampshire fafmyjirdP Under" a spreading" elm sits a girl literally covered with daisies. Daisies in her hair, daisies on her wrists and neck, and in her lap a heap of daisies which her deft lingers are converting into wreaths. It is Hazel. But how changed from tho pale-laced girl who sal so listlessly before tho lire On that Christ mas eve. And would you know whose hand had wrought tlio majrio chnngi-P Ah, approach the bunch of pink, so industriously pulling .daisies on yon grassy slope, push back the sun bonnet from llio lliHlnid lll.tlo fm;i), anil lo! ihu wonderful fairy stands revealed—no other than "Hazel's Christmas Present."— l.ulu \\'^lln. Tlioy PANAMA HATS. Ant M mi ti fur I urnil Kvnry Tour to I ho ICxImit of 800,000 Dii/.en. Panama hats are so named from the circumstance of their being shipped from tlio port of Panama, says the Galveston Globe. They are manufactured in Ecuador and the neighboring stales. The material used is the liber of the loaf of the screw pine, which is related to tho palniH. It grows only ou the slopes of the Andes. Tho tree is described as having no trunk. Tho loaves are on slender stems that spring from the ground. They arc about two feet long, fan-shaped, and four-parted. Each of the segments is •ton-cleft, so that when the leaf im folded, as in tho bud. there are eighty layers. The libers of those leaves tiro linoly plaited, and each hat consists of a sin- glu piece of work. The plaiting of tho hats is a slow aiul tiresome process. Coarse hat.s may bo finished iu two or three days, but the line ones lake as many months. The work is begun at the crown and finished at the brim. The hat is made on a block, which is placed on llio knees, and has to bo constantly urossod with tho breast. About 200,000 dozens of those hats are made every year. The price varies according to the firmness of the material and the quality of the work. They are valued at from $5 to $100. Panama hats are much pri/,ed for wear in the tropics, because of their lightness and flexibility. They may be rolled up and put into the pocket without injury. In tho rainy season they aru apt to got black, but .by washing them with soap and water, fronting them with lime juice or any similar acid, and exposing them to the sun their whlieness is easily restored. In Australia there is manufactured a hut which is said to resemble tho Panama hat very closely. It is made from the unexp'anded leaves of a na- tivu plant, which are immersed in boiling water and then dried. Tho liber obtained by this treatment is plaited as in South America. Under tho name of "Clialt.ahs" a kind of umbrella hat or sunshade is miido in India of the luavos of a palm or of the plantation loaf. Chattahs tiro worn by the plowmen, cow-keepers, and coolies of Bengal and Assam. Virtue in Lemons. "Jolly old wo said Tom, cousin. Her she's come to live people lemonade before A good deal has boon said lately •about the beneficial use of lemons anil lemonade. Tho latest advice,' given by a Dublin medical contemporary, is how- to USD the fruit and the beverage ..so that they will do tho most good. Most know the value of a bottle of breakfast, but few know that the benefit is more than doubled by taking another at night also. The way to"got tho bolter of a bilious attack without powders or quinine is to take the juice of one, two or three lemons iu as much water as will make it pleasant to drink without sugar before going to bed. lu llio morning on rising, at least half an hour before breakfast, lake the juioo of one lemon in a tumblerful of ordinary or soda water. This will t clear the system of all bile wilhoutlhoaid of i-alocnul nrspa waters, i can't look,' dear, reply. "I oau't see." was the sad "Can't see breath. "No." "Nor moP" "No." "Nor Tom?" "No, deal 1 , nothing," With u (Hidden iminilso «<tT*A'T*(f !.V J. *• j if *A climbed IntoxloaUul llirils. ^ A pigeon-flying. experiment at Tours, Franco, has omleil in a most remarkable manner, proving the shocking fact that the useful birds, iu addition to being oxeossivoly greedy, are also given to an overindulgence in slroug drinks. Four hundred aiul twenty-nine pigeons were conveyed by train from Tours to La Hohtille, and there let looso. To the astonishment of the various societies iuloresied in thu experiment only forty returned liome, and these were in a diiaed condition and quite incapable of (hiding their respective quarters. An inquiry resulted in llio discovery that at a "roadside station a large consignment of black currants had been put in tlio sumo van as the birds. Thu inebriating qualities of thu currants' juice proved too much for thu littlo travelers, and they were quickly in such n condition that only a small proportion were sober unouu'h lo lind ihuir wav !ms!c it) To iii's. — •'.-•••••: lA.m Times. Snowed in; that meant much more than they imagined when the snow continued to fall so unceasingly, till at last it fastened them in securely bo- hind the white drifts, much more at least than a goodly half oven then realized. There wore two persons, Slim Jim and Sam Slick, as they had been facetiously nicknamed, owing to the length of iimb of one and tlio decidedly rough appearance of tho other, who looked the calamity iu the face understand i ugly. "Wo ought tor a lied more sense, old minors as wo be; but the gold Was a- pilin' in so fust an' I did trust to tho HIIOW a-holdiii' off a spell yet. Big goo.sos as ever I heard tell of, an' now we're in fur it." "Is it very bail?" inquired Nat Goodyear, who vvtis indeed a tenderfoot, having only reached the camp a few months previous. "Bad! bad's no name." "And New Years' clay "only two weeks off. I thought—I hoped to bo homo then." "Ditl yor now; well, my boy, you made yor fortune quick, an' no mis- lake, but it 'II bo sometime 'fore you carry it home." "i-Iow long will the snow last." "All winter." Nat looked astounded, the expression on the faces of the old pards was grave, almost hopeless. "Not all .winter! why tho supplies—" "Will lust about ton days," said Slim Jim, with a queer smile! Now Years' we'll have." "But can nothing be done? can't dig a way out under the snow?" "Yes wo might—in six years." "Hut tho women and children! you don't mean iliac we are to sit quietly down and await starvation?" "Would probably answer as well a anything,' 1 muttered Sam. "However the boy's not far wrong;'we'll not sit clowri an' make no effort. Jim an' me's jist a-lhinkin'." "Hut it's tho worst stale of affairs ever saw," said Jim. stretching his Ion arms out with a quaint gesture of dc spall 1 . Sam chuckled and said: '"Now if Jim was jist a little longer ho could make n bridge across tho snow dowu lu.r the plains, out o' his arms." Jim almost blushed at this, but an sworing a thought that was in his mind said: "Length of limb counts sometimes, and 1 kin tramp through a pretty big snow drift, as yon know, but I was a- wishiug the suow would got a good crust on it." "Twou't very soon, so si sled could bo pushed over it, us I reckon you been ti-lhinkin' of." "it may," oried Nat; "lot us go to work anil rig up a sled. 1 know it must, have broad run tiers, and bo so light wu can either carry or ride upon it. And I myself have tin idea too, but I won't lull just now." . "You're a brave boy, if you bo a tenderfoot; but do you know" that the onus who sot out upon this hero journey must, start soon, so's to git back in time, an 1 that likely they'll never roach lliu plains alive?" •'I know, but I'd rather die a trying, not only to save myself, but tho little children and thu women—lucky there are so few." For a day tho little camp was eagerly at work; suggestions and advice and help was freely offered. Hut who would undertake the clangorous journey? Only a portion understood all that journey might moan. Sam drew otio of'thoir number aside and advised to begin dealing out rations sparingly. "Jim an' mc'll go, and I s'poso that boy Nat won't bo hold back, he's spry as a cut and may hold out, aud if you are real careful you can make out fur three weeks. If wu shouldn't git back in ton days yon bettor start another party." Tho day they started, which was upon the following morning, Nat made his appearance with ti pair of very re- spuelablo looking snow-shoos. Sam mucn rejoicing. . • " "Roast a part, and.I'll take the re- maindei 1 back to camp; it Will be much to them." exclaimed Nut. "But'we ought to push on." ,./ •• "Yes, but I'll oveiiake you, never fear." ' . ... Much surprised were the people to see Nat back so soon, but the. b'lirdeu- lie bore was very; ivelcome. Hastily he turned about ami retraced his steps, but it was well on toward night of the next day ere he overtook his, companions, and he fotind them iii a sorry strait indeed. - i'i : They had cut/their way--a1ong'by the aid of the shovel, but Vow before them yawned a,Chasm, decli ; and lone that suddenly Wont down so steep and' precipitous the'descent seemed ilnposi-' slblo. " ' ' ; ' ."We have been waitin''fur you, my boy; you're the lightest weight, an' I reckon you<wou't min,d swinging over that there." "No," said Nat, quietly, "I am not afraid, and the rope-is stronsr. What am I to do when 6uce down?" . • "You are to make the rope fast, an' help us down with the sled, then I s'pose ,we're to follow. Once down there, I know a short cut to Gray's Gap, but we'll have to go. in through the mountain a ways." . : "Through the mountains, Sam?" "Yes,, there's a cave an 1 a dangerous passage-way. 1 went it once, never had any desire tor try it over,'lmt it kin bo done.an 1 it must be in this case. Now, lot us make this here knot firm about you. So! that's comfortable. Now you kin use both your hands an' keep from gittin 1 hurt by the rocks." They swung him over the dizzy height down,down. Tho rope swayed, ana Nat wondered if he would ever reach the bottom, but he did, and, pbeying tho commands of his companions, soou had the pleasure of witnessing their safe but most dangerous descent. a inhales In cauh rospiraiion an adult (niepmtofairjuhualihyml.il rusoirus sixty to twenty times ti miiule; while standing the adult respiration is twenty-two limus pur minute; /while lvin«* •' " ° down thirieiMi. ami Jim eyed them iu surprise. "You do boat all," said Jim; "can you paddle along with them things? I own I never tried, and who learned you to make 'emP" "I made a long visit to u cousiu who liviw up in Canada one winter, and mot a number of Indians, purchased a pair of snow-shoes, ami lucidly learned now to use them well. Those are clumsy things, bul they are strong, and 1 can u^o them I think." With many encouraging words, but secret fears, the throo started dowu that snow-covered trail. Only those who have been on the mountains where the suow is piled iu immense drifts, eau imagine the perils and dangers that lay before them. On llio litilo sled which they drew was a coil of strong rope, a sharp ax and shovel, throe good rifles—for possible game and foes, as it might bo —and u tin box containing a few bis- euits. Slowly, indeed, did they progress, but perhaps it was luck, since ou that verv first uight Sam shot a deer amid After all were down they made their vay to an opening in what appeared he side of a solid wall. •Wonderful!" said Nat, following Sam's loud. "We'll just sleep right hero, tonight, we're all played out, an' tomorrow we'll begin what's goin' to be tho most dangerous tramp wo ever had, likely we'll nouo of us ever see daylight ag'in. One false step in there, or soTue nest o' snakes or bears, an' it'll bo all over with us." "If anything should happen," begun Nat. -T mean if you of Jim should get through and live to tell it, I wish you'd see that my bolt of gold-dust is sent home to my old father and mother; it will maybe make them remember mo kindly, and you can tell them I iliiitl bravely; it's'boeti'a year next New Year's day since I ran away from home." •"IJan away, did you?" '•Yes. a lot of us young follows were shooting at targets, aud I—it was lucky it iliil happen to be mo—made a target, accidentally, out of father's best horse, a valuable animal, and one that I loved myself." "(>h! ho!" laughed Jim, "that was a nice target, indeed. What did the old man sayP 1 ' "Ho said a number of things," owned Nat, the color rising to his cheeks, "and I'm sorry to say I answered back, and then I got my clothes and came away. Tho last memory of them I have" was of the gooil dinner ou tho table, tho big turkey iu the midst,and mother with her face buried in her gingham apron, and father, in grim stern and pale, standing near, i silence. It was too bad for me to kill a horse worth two hundred dollars, when there was a mortgage ou tho clear old place that I should have helped to pay—that's why I want this little fortune to roach thorn—if possible." Tho little camp up in the mountains watched the days come and go anxiously. How long, how long, they kept saying, would it bo before help came? There were but two women and some live youngsters among the few miners, tho women were bravo, and tho children unconscious of their danger. More than oue, when given their scant portion of food, set aside a fragment oven of that for the little ones, that they, at least, might uot bo hungry. And tho days came and wont until ton had passed; two wore down with fovor, and all looked wan and gaunt, for even buiug half-starved was by no moans pleasant, aud the worry that was ever about thorn, the fearful doubt, was as bad as the lack of food. Nobody, as yot, volunteered to sot put to uuiki! the journey; all kept hoping that they might hear from the first party, but no word came, and the ilour was almost gone, the weather was severe, aud the suow prevented tliL-in from gutting good fuel. "We'll tear down one of the shanties, that'll last awhile, and keep tho little folks warm." _So a house was lorn dowu and divided, aud two of their most able- bodied men sot out, hopiug to meet tho returning party. "Wo will have something for tomorrow," said tho leader, a tender- leaned old man, "and then if the good Lord don't send us aid, I expect we'll jo hungry awhile." The 'situation was frightful, and as hoy counted up the days they knew that another day would" usher iu tho New' Year, and what a day it was lo them! Far away in another home an old man and woman made ready for the f lad New Year, also. There was the iggost and fattest turkey in the whole brood roasted, the nicest of pumpkin pies baked, and yet the faces about the board so plentifully loaded were sad ones. "I keep hoping Nat will return," said the mother, "he did lo.vo my pumpkin pies so xvell. He'll surely remember his old home now; he must know how we want him back." The father sighed, and just then there came a knock upon tho door, but when opened it only revealed a very tall and lank individual, who awkwardly entered, taking off his hat for tho real reason that the low doorway would uot admit him otherwise. "How do you do?" ho said, bashfully. "Quilo well, stranger," said tho farmer, "have a seat, won't you, it's ns cold ami blustery a Now Year's day as 1 ever remember." "Yes," said the tall stranger, "but it's a good deal like last year, ain't it?" The mother turned her head, the old man took off his spectacles and wiped them careful!v. "No, last New Year's clay was warm and pleasant. I remember because tho boys wore out-iloorrs so much." "Your boys?" "My boy and some neighbors'. Wo only have one sou," mournfully. "Only one, where is he?" "We .don't know, ho left us on New Year's tiny, we've never seen hita since." "Was his name Nat?" "Yes. O.i! yes. Do you bring- us word of him. our only child?" "You must not got excited," said the tall individual in gentle tones, "perhaps I bring you a little word of him. I come from the mines. While working there this fall and summer a boy joined us, a bright, handsome young follow that everybody liked. He said his name was Nat Goodyear." "Our sou, our own dear Nat, but where—P" "Wait. A dreadful snow storm came and shut us all up iu the mountains without food or fuel. A little band was formed to try to reach the lower country and get help. Your boy was one of the three. It was almost certain death to go. just as curtain to remain. One night, when beginning the journey, the" boy requested His two friends, if either lived and he did uot, to carry or send his smali fortune to his old father and mother with his love." "And you havo brought us that," sobbed the mother. "You have como to tell us that our boy, our clarlin" child, is dead!" ° "Hush! don't weep! A braver lad it would be hard to find. Tho way was tortuous, severe, an accident happened to one of the three, and he died" and tho other two buried him tenderly in the suow. Don't cry, the one 'that died was not your son. No, indeed, he lived to go on, when even the other fell exhausted by tho way, to go on until help was reached, and a -party quickly made up with generous sup- plius, to (igin their way up the mountain and save the score "of lives awaiting thorn. They have reached there by this time, and, as it is so much farther West, no doubt the New Year's dinner is already in progress. Thank God that it is so! I bring this as a peace offering from your sou, it contains about one thousand dollars and will clear the mortgage on the old place.' 1 "But Nat, our boy, we want him," said the father. Then tho door flew open with a • bang—a well-remembered bang—and Nat, taller and browner, but Nat still, entered and took thorn in his arms, his strong young arms as if forevermore ho would shelter them. ' "I've como back! We had a fight lor it and for our lives as well; but I coaxed Jim to come, too, that he mi^ht spend Now Year's day with me in the clear old home—for, mother clear, I've told about your famous pumpkin pies." And far away upon a snowy mountain side, men were getting ready to partake of a dinner so plentiful that it scarcely seemed possible that it could bo real,aud as they talked and thanked the kind Father who had saved them, they spoke, with tender reverence, the names of the three'who had gone out of their midst, only as brave men can, to succor or perish by the \\i\v.-Abbie 0. Al'Auevcr. Floating Arkansaw Mills. 'The manufacture of lumber in Arkansas is carried ou very largely now by floating saw-mills, which work up the oak timber ou tho territory adjacent to tho rivers. Those boats are uot a now institution, but until recently they have been mostly small and cheap affairs, built by men of limited moans. Tho success of their operations has boon clearly demonstrated, however, and some of tho newer mills are well-built aud fmcly equipped craft. It is calculated bv experienced lumbermen that a saving of $2 to $4 per thousand feet can bo made on the cost of manufacturing oak lumber on streams by tho use of mills ofthiskiud, Tho Bank of Scotland, issued $1 notes as early as 1704, and their issue has since been continued without iu* terruptiou. Bow the Old New Hnrk and listen, my dcnr, to tlio musle I hear J 'TIs tlio wild, merry musle of clamorous bells. Soft und low from o'orlieud comes a dirge for tho dcnil. Then a'liymn of thanksgiving that rises and swells, For an old year has gone like a sliadbw at dawn, Reluctantly, Bhlvorlngly, out of our life. Half In lioi o, half In fear, outers In the New Year. All, but what does ho brrug us? God only knows, wife, How the years como and go with their sun- slil no und snow, How tho (iraves rlpplo up from the sod In their piitli, How tlio simmici's drift by like white clouda o'or the sky, " Then give way to tho tempests tlmt rte their wrath; How tlio world comes and goes like the tldo.tts'S' It flOWS, ,'-' : vtj»! With Its rise and Us fall ou eternity's sf]6'rei;j|t How the cofllu and pall oast their shadows? 1 ' o'or till, 'Till the Master writes "flnts" and closes lute'B door. HOW THE OLD YEAH 'WENT. When ynn were fust, asleep last nl<rht, An old innii, withered, bent and gray, Went sldilluir out from mortal slulit, And carrier with htm yesterday. His steps wcro feeble, old and s:ow, His head was bowed as If iu prayer; i Ho seemed reluctant Ftill to iro, Anil bunt beneath his load of care. Tlio moonbeams, wll.li a Pilv'ry sheen, Had covered mountain, vale and hill; Frost's Icy fetters Mold tliu si ream And hi-pt it's murm'i'liigr music still, In solemn sllonce lay tho deep, Save for u low, sud monotone, The echo of tlio tempest's swoop, That shook Kiiijir Neptune's coral throne. He paused beside a wicket (rate Beyond whose palo thick darkness lay- Again hu seemed to hesitate, As though his thoughts were faraway. He bent his head as if to hear Tho Joyoui bells tlmt, loudly ran" Then shrank away us If in fear The gate s» ung to with noisy dun;?, HOW THE NEW YEAH CAME. ' I sat dreaming by tho gleaming of u lire that to my seem Insr Held a host of pliMiitom fancies that tho vear had k-lt lit'iiind, When! henrd ali,, V o tho rooking of my chair aguntlo knocking, J Not a whisper did I utter as I opened wide the e-'iuttor, And there entered nt ray casement just a merry laughing chllil; lu tils arms ho hold to-morrow's full of sunshine mid of sorrows, Aud a leaf tlmt Just turned over was by writing undeflled. . Who urn you? I wliisporod lightly, and big blue oyug sparkled brightly As hi) iinswerod: "I'm tlio Now Year sent to earth by Father Time, Hoar the-' bolls Unit FOXIOH'S swinging greet mewiththolr noisy ringing, Let mo Introduce myself, sir, I am 1893." Btlll the bolls kept up their chiraimr and I heard above their rhyming B llio glad anthem of an angol band that hung As " U8ien l couw see the that *• t THE ANGELS' BONO. Oh, ye people, give thanks 1'or a now your Is born. Oh, yo shadows, br ak ranks On tho breast of the storm! Anil oli, darkness, boffono , For thy mission shall cease, 'Its a promise of dawn On tlm white wins of peace, lo thy God srlve tho praise I'or tlio good He 1ms wrought. For tlio beautiful days B "" a hat his impels have brought For the swift marching years Shall a nation pass by with their olmrlot of tears As they trauip through the Blty. Happy Now Year bo thine, Oh, yo people of earth; F S:!".iL' ;v J llul< } Father Time Jewels or mirth, BUI thy ivadnra prepare tor a harvest of gold, SoGod answered the prayer 01 His people of oWV 0** '***»* a hiwn t 8trouk of dttwn llgbtly '^s <»» the Tho ohl year has souo by as a cloud o'er ti»e 6 icy, " "Nmv Year Is born with the morn's early Happy^New Year bo thine-'tts a promise dl- glad bells, in your wild ranks while to God we iw Year that dawns upon "I'll A Sad Complication. auother book never publish anonymously as long as I liy e u poet on Christmas'mornino-. ' "Why not?" queried a friend, \ .... » 3 tJ&*l^. .' . / ., ,,-

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