Chapter 10

Next morning the old woman had them up early, for she wanted to use their beds, and gave them some breakfast, consisting of very good coffee, without milk, fried plantains, very nice white bread from the baker's next door, and to each a little relish of salt bacon, which did instead of butter.

It was evident that this repast was considered a great treat by both Diego and his aunt. When they had finished, the latter said:

"Now, Diego, if you and your friend will take a basket of washed clothes over into the city, to the hotel for which I work, you will do me a favor."

"Why not?" answered Diego, who then explained to Lee what was wanted.

The old woman soon had the large, square basket packed and covered with a clean checked cloth, and then said:

"Here, Diego, take these coppers for the ferry-boat, and here are the lists and the bills. You will get the money and bring it back to me."

The boys set off at once, crossing the bay to the city in the balmy clear, tropical morning, so charming before the sun gains its full power, and having a long trudge before they came to their destination.

In this neighborhood Lee saw a very different state of things from that at Regla. They passed a great square, planted with palms and flowering plants, such as he had only seen in pictures heretofore. Then there were long ranges of public buildings and grand houses, with sentry-boxes in front of them, and sentinels pacing to and fro.

They also met frequently battalions and companies of troops, going to relieve guard or returning from early parade, stepping out briskly over the clean-swept pavements to lively airs played by the bands. Everything, at that hour, was life and bustle, for most of the business of the day is done in the early morning, that people may have time to take the "siesta" during the hot hours.

All these strange sights seemed to divert Lee's thoughts from the heavy basket which they were carrying, and he was still staring about when Diego stopped before a large, low, two-storied building, with a great arched entrance into a court-yard, around the four sides of which the building extended. Above the arch hung a sign, with "Hotel de los Estados Unidos," painted upon it.

"Well, I know what _that_ sign means," said Lee; "and it's the first one I've seen which I _did_ understand."

"Yes, here we are at last," replied Diego.

And they turned in and came out in the large court-yard, which presented quite an animated appearance.

A fountain was playing in the middle, surrounded by orange trees, bananas and flowering plants, in great green tubs. All around, the doors of sleeping rooms opened upon the court, while above, another set of doors opened upon a balcony, which was reached by steps below.

On the pavement of stone were many little tables, at which gentlemen and ladies were taking breakfast, and waiters in white jackets were bustling about and supplying their wants.

On the left, as the boys entered, was an office, with a half door and a shelf upon it, from which a clerk hailed them:

"_Hi, muchachos, qui quiere?_" (What do you want, you boys?)

"The clothes, senor," answered Diego, in reply, pointing to the basket, which they had deposited on the flagstones.

"Ah, that's all right! Are they from Dolores? There's a gentleman here who has inquired half a dozen times already about his clean things. He wants to leave to-day."

"What's his name? I have the lists here."

"What _is_ his name? I never _can_ remember these English and American names. But here he comes himself."

As he spoke, a tall, fine-looking man, of about forty, with light hair and complexion and wearing gold spectacles, came hurrying in from the street.

"Now, then, senor," said he, addressing the clerk, "are those my things? All right. Take them to my room, No. 17, on the balcony. The steamer sails for Ruatan this afternoon, before sunset, and I must send my baggage on board at once. Where is the servant you promised to engage for me?"

"Senor, the young man I hoped to get will not go on such an expedition as yours, and has backed out, at the last moment, after promising me he would be ready."

Lee and Diego both pricked up their ears at the word "expedition," and Diego took off his cap and said:

"Where might the gentleman be going?"

"I'm going to make some explorations, and to try to find some ruined cities in Central America. Not an easy task, for their situation is not precisely known, and many have been baffled in trying to find them. I want a young man who is a good traveler and handy, and who speaks both Spanish and English, so that he can act as an interpreter."

"But just where are you going, sir?"

"Why, to Ruatan, first--where I shall get my outfit, and engage some canoe hands and a cook; and then to Truxillo, for more precise information. I may go up the River Maugualil, or some other stream. It will depend upon what I hear."

Diego and Lee looked at each other as much as to say, "Why wouldn't we do? We must do something, and that at once; and here is a chance for travel and adventure, too."

Lee even forgot his design of returning North, and said to the gentleman:

"I am an American, sir, willing and strong, and ready for anything which will give me an honest living and a chance to see something new; and my friend here speaks Spanish, for it is his native tongue--and also English well enough. If you'll take us both, there is nothing to prevent us from going, for we have left our vessel."

The gentleman looked closely at their faces, and then answered:

"I don't see why I shouldn't try you--especially as I can't get any one else," he added to himself. "My name is Higley, and I am a professor in Coryale College. I have been sent out for the purpose I have told you, and expect to be gone from here for seven or eight months, or perhaps a year. Now, who are you?"

Lee told him their story, and the professor said, when he had finished:

"Very well, then. If you have no one from whom to get permission, I will trust you without reference. I expected to pay a faithful and competent man, who was willing to go with me, and encounter any danger or privations which we may meet, fifty dollars a month; and of course he would live the same as myself. Now, I'm willing to divide that sum between you two lads, if you do well and earn it."

This offer sounded very large to Diego and Lee, who neither of them had a copper of their own, especially when the excitement of discovery and adventure was to be thrown in, and they closed with Professor Higley's offer immediately, only stipulating that they were to go back to take old Aunt Dolores her money and bid her good-by.

"Well, go; but be sure to be back here by three o'clock at the latest, or I shall conclude you've changed your minds."

"Ah, it is settled at last," said the Spanish clerk. "Now that the gentleman has been suited, he will leave me in peace to smoke my cigar. These Americans and English have no idea of quiet, but must always be on the go," he mumbled to himself, as he turned into his darkened retreat.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

PLANTS IN A ROOM.

There is a widespread belief that the presence of growing plants and cut flowers in a room is in some way prejudicial to those who sleep therein. This belief is probably due to the fact, learned at school, that plants give off at night carbonic acid, which is known to be deleterious to health.

A recent writer has published the results of some experiments made in a closed green-house, showing how fanciful are these fears. In this green-house there were 6000 growing plants, and the average of three experiments made early on three different mornings after the place had been closed for more than twelve hours exhibited only 4.03 parts of carbonic acid per 10,000.

We can judge by this experiment that from one or two plants the quantity of gas given off must be far too small for recognition, and certainly many hundred times less than that formed by a burning taper or given off by one pair of lungs.

A CORNER IN ALLIGATORS.

by GEORGE ETHELBERT WALSH.

"'Gator hides worth three dollars, and big ones four. That's our game, Jed, and we'll make enough in 'gator hunting to get that pony."

"You bet, for there's plenty of 'em down in Loon Lake--big ones, too."

"We'll have a regular corner in 'em. Come, let's get off."

The two young Southern hunters felt as if they had already captured a small fortune, and Stam--short for Stamford--made a rush for the house.

"Where's my gun? It's never in its place. Mother," raising his voice, "I can't find my gun anywhere. It's so provoking! Have you taken it?"

"And my game-bag is gone," echoed Jed, in an irritable voice. "We're in such a hurry, too."

"It's money out of pocket standing here looking for these plaguey things."

"Well, boys," replied Mrs. Fellows, appearing on the scene, "you have no one to blame but yourself. Nobody has touched your things, and they are just where you left them."

"Where is that?"

"You ought not to be told. You should be made to look for them."

"Oh, please tell us, mother, for we're in such a hurry."

"'Gator skins are selling high now," added Stam, opening his eyes, "and we know where we can get some big ones."

"That's no reason why you shouldn't be made to find your things. You must be cured of your careless habits in some way. This is a good time to begin."

"Oh, don't lecture us now, mother. Do it when we come back."

"Please tell us where we can find the gun and game-bag," pleaded Jed, putting an arm around his mother's waist.

Mrs. Fellows could not resist this appeal, and she directed the boys to the wood-shed, where they found the desired gun and game-bag standing near a pile of wood. The boys had left them there two days before after returning from a hunt, and the gun was somewhat the worse for rust and exposure.

Down by Loon Lake the great saurians were basking themselves in the hot sun, and the appearance of the boys among them made a slight disturbance along the edges of the water.

"These are only small ones," whispered Jed, with contempt. "We want some big four-dollar hides. Snag Creek's the place for them. The big fellows always hang out there."

The young hunters paddled their small skiff rapidly around the edge of the clear-water lake, and then shoved her gently up a narrow, muddy creek.

Enormous cypress trees lined either bank, and scores of buzzards were perched on the dead branches, watching the solitary skiff glide through the water. The buzzards seemed to know that they were protected by law, and they did not deign to jump from their roosts.

At the end of the creek was a smaller lake, or rather a small muddy pond, in the centre of which was an island which nearly touched the mainland at one end. Between this island and the land the big alligators basked in numbers, and Jed truthfully exclaimed, as he caught sight of the saurians:

"We've got a regular corner in 'em, sure! We'll land and pelt 'em like fun!"

The boys had only one gun between them, but they were both so excited that they enjoyed the anticipated sport as much as if each held one of the deadly weapons in his hand.

As the skiff touched the island, they leaped out of it together. Stam hurried up to a huge alligator and took deliberate aim before pulling the trigger; but, to his chagrin, the alligator still blinked at him after the hammer struck the cap.

The gun was so rusty from its two days' exposure that it refused to go off. Several caps were exploded with the same unsatisfactory result.

The boys began to worry and fume while the alligator eyed them menacingly.

Stam took the ramrod out and began to draw the load, but, before he could succeed, the alligator became aggressive. He winked at his comrades, snapped his jaws, and then waddled toward the young hunters.

"Look out!" Jed screamed, "he's coming for you! Get in the boat and draw the load there."

Both boys turned and ran for the skiff, but there was no skiff to be had. In the excitement they had jumped out of the boat and left it without securing it in any way, and the skiff had quietly drifted off.

The two boys were in a great predicament, and their fun gave place to fear.

"We're in for it now, Stam," gasped Jed.

"We'll have to swim ashore."

"We can't do that unless we get on the other side of the island. There are too many snags on this side. We'd get caught in them."

The boys walked around their narrow prison, and tried to frighten the alligators away; but they were unsuccessful in this attempt. Two or three curious alligators crawled up on the land to ascertain the cause of the alarm.

The boys set up a shouting, and threw sticks at the saurians; but the more noise they made, the more alligators assembled around the island. The backs and heads of several big ones could be seen swimming toward them from the adjacent shores.

Evidently the creatures knew intuitively that a feast was ahead of them, and each one was getting ready for his share.

"Oh, if this gun would go off!" groaned Stam.

"And if we had thought to tie that skiff," sighed Jed.

"It's all our fault; we were so careless."

"I'll never be so thoughtless again if I ever get out of this."

"But we can't. We'll be eaten up in less than half an hour. Oh, dear!"

The battle now actually began. The boys were forced to the extreme end of the island, and they had to fight or take to the water. Behind them was an enormous alligator--larger than any other two. The big fellow was floating about motionless, with more than half of his body out of water, and he seemed to think that he was sufficient guard for that side of the island.

The two hunters clubbed the approaching enemies and retreated gradually into the water. At first they almost cried in their terror, but, as they warmed up to their work, they felt that everything depended on their bravery. Stam used the butt end of his gun, while Jed swung a heavy club effectively.

But there was no fighting such determined enemies successfully. The boys had to jump around lively to escape the snapping jaws and thrashing tails.

At last they found themselves in water knee deep, with the alligators close upon them.

"It's no use," gasped Jed, throwing away his club. "Swim for your life. Make direct for the shore."

"I don't believe I have strength enough left," replied Stam, who was nearly exhausted in swinging the heavy gun.

"Well, keep together, and we'll die helping each other."

With this noble resolve the brothers ran out into the water as far as they could and then swam for dear life; but between them and the shore was the huge alligator guarding that side.

Before they were aware of their danger the boys were nearly upon the great saurian.

"We're lost!" whispered Jed.

"Ugh!"

The last exclamation was made by Stam, as the long tail of the alligator rubbed against his side. Both boys expected to see it swish through the water the next moment and dash the life out of them, but it did not move. Stam took a hold of it and twisted it viciously.

The alligator did not resent this familiarity, but was as motionless as ever.

"He's asleep!" Jed whispered. "We can get by him yet."

"No, he's dead," shouted Stam, "and he'll have to carry us ashore."

It took the brothers only an instant to realize their good fortune. The alligator was only the dead carcass of a big bull 'gator, which the sun had swollen and distended. It was so light that it could almost carry a man on its back without sinking. The boys threw an arm over either side of the carcass, and then with the other they began to paddle for dear life.

The pursuing alligators were close upon them, but, with their strange support, they easily held their own in the race.

They reached the bank in time, and, leaving the dead 'gator in the shallow water, they staggered up in the woods to a place of safety.

When they recovered their breath and strength they began a search for their boat, which they found at length drifting close into the shore.

Then they returned to the scene of their battle and recovered their gun. When they started home they towed with them the carcass of the alligator which had saved their lives.

Their corner in alligators was over with, and ever afterward they took good care to see that they were not cornered before they counted their gains in cornering the market in 'gator skins.

As Jed expressed it:

"We've got to get over our careless ways, if we're going to do anything with these 'gators. They don't make any allowances for forgetfulness, as mother does, _and perhaps she shouldn't, either_."

* * * * *

--"Decide not rashly. The decision made Can never be recalled. The gods implore not, Plead not, solicit not; they only offer Choice and occasion, which once being past Return no more." _--Longfellow._

INTERNATIONAL LESSON--FOR JAN. 11.

I Kings 12: 25-33.

Subject--Idolatry in Israel.

by REV.G. E. STROBRIDGE, D.D.

GOLDEN TEXT.

"Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image" (Exod. 20:4).

INTRODUCTION.

Jeroboam reigned twenty-two years, beginning in the year 975 B.C. The extent of his territory was larger than that of the kingdom of Judah, over which Rehoboam ruled after the division. Jeroboam's portion, called the Kingdom of Israel, and comprising the northern portion of the land, was about the size of the State of New Hampshire.

Rehoboam first made an attempt to recover the allegiance of the revolted tribes, and sent his representative to take tribute from them, but he was promptly killed. Rehoboam then made preparations for war; but he was admonished to pursue this course no longer by the prophet Shemiah (1 Kings 12: 21-24).

Rehoboam then turned his attention entirely to his own kingdom, and for three years left off his former wild and sinful ways, and seemed to give promise of becoming a good monarch (2 Chron. 11: 17). He busied himself in fortifying his kingdom by a circuit of fifteen walled cities, thus protecting it on the south and west.

Three years of this devotion to a wise care of his kingdom was about all this young man could stand, and he went back to his dissolute ways, and the bad blood of his heathen mother manifested itself.

Continuing thus for two years, he was then attacked by Shishak, the King of Egypt, who was a friend of Jeroboam. Judah was invaded, and the thousand shields of gold which Solomon had made for the display of his wealth and power, and other treasures of the temple, were carried off. These shields Rehoboam replaced with shields of brass.

There was a war, on a larger or smaller scale, all the time between the two kingdoms, until in the reign of Abijah, the son of Rehoboam, Jeroboam was severely punished by an overwhelming defeat.

JEROBOAM'S FORTIFICATIONS.

"Then Jeroboam built Shechem in Mount Ephraim, and dwelt therein; and went out from thence, and built Penuel."

Jeroboam did not build Shechem. There had been a town there from the earliest times, but the meaning is that he rebuilt it, enlarged it, beautified it, and made it the capital city.

It was especially adapted for this, as it was right in the centre of the territory of the ten tribes and the leader of the revolt. It was the most ancient sanctuary in the land, and the ancestors of the Israelites had worshiped there long before they became a nation.

In 1 Kings 14: 17, we are informed that after a time Jeroboam left Shechem, and set up his capital in Tirzah, where he built a palace and other buildings on so grand a scale that the place became even a rival of Jerusalem (Sol. Song 6: 4).

After having established himself in Shechem, he began to give attention to the outlying territory, and, in order to protect it, he built a fortification at Penuel. The name of this place means "the face of God." It received this name from the meeting here of Jacob with the angel, and his wrestling with the angel (Gen. 32: 24-32). It is located on a little stream called Jabbok, and is twenty miles east of the Jordan. It was an important point, as it was situated on the road over which all the caravans passed first to Damascus and then on east to the countries of Babylon and Nineveh.

A fortress here would defend the kingdom of Israel from the attacks of Assyria on the east and north, and from Judah on the south.

THE KING'S APPREHENSION.

"And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now shall the kingdom return to the house of David.

"If this people go up to do sacrifice in the house of the Lord at Jerusalem, then shall the heart of this people turn again unto their lord, even unto Rehoboam, King of Judah, and they shall kill me, and go again to Rehoboam, king of Judah."

Now that Jeroboam is king, his troubles begin. Having settled the matter of protection against invasion by the building of the strongholds as just noticed, a more serious danger arose before him. It would seem that the people had no thought when they separated from the government of Rehoboam that they would also give up their religion. It was expected that Jerusalem should be still the religious capital, and the temple the place for all the people of both nations to worship.

But Jeroboam reasoned with himself that if the people of his kingdom went up to Jerusalem three times a year, as the law directed (Deut. 16: 16), to worship there, they would by this become alienated from him as their ruler, would learn to reverence the king who was of David's line as more rightfully their sovereign, and the result would be not only that they might change, such was the fickle temper of people in the east, but they might expel him and perhaps take his life.

It was a very natural course of reasoning, but he should have trusted in God. In I Kings 11: 38, the promise had been expressly made to him that on condition of his obedience, he should be protected and his throne should be firmly established. But he forgets this and goes on in the foolish fashion of all doubt and unbelief.

FALSE GODS SET UP.

"Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold, and said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem; behold thy gods, oh, Israel, which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt,

"And he set the one in Bethel, and the other put he in Dan."

He reasoned that if there were to be two kingdoms, there must also be two religions: at least, the citizens of one kingdom should not get their religion from the worship and service held in another kingdom. On the face of it this looked like the very essence of wisdom. It was worldly wisdom, but it was religious folly because it was putting policy above principle.

After he had thought this matter over for some time, Jeroboam took some of his friends and counselers into the secret of his reflections, and they agreed with him. Thereupon he proceeded to establish home rule in religion as in everything else, and his whole course is an exhibition of great shrewdness. It is a pity that so bright an intellect had not been united with a better heart.

He set up objects of worship and established shrines for them at two places in his kingdom, Bethel and Dan.

Bethel was located in the tribe of Benjamin's territory, but had been taken as part of the land embraced in the revolt of the ten tribes. The name meant the house of God, and was so called by Jacob at the time of his vision (Gen. 28: 11-19.)

As long ago as Abraham's time, an altar had been built here (Gen. 12: 8.) Samuel had also judged Israel here (1 Sam. 7: 16.) It was, therefore, shrewdly selected, for the people of those days were readily and deeply impressed with the sacred associations of places, especially old places.

The other place, Dan, was in the extreme northern part of the land, so that the expression from Dan to Beersheba means from one end of the land to the other, north to south.

There was no city here at this time, but at a spot about four miles from where the city of Dan was afterwards located, there is a remarkable cave in one of the ridges at the base of Mount Hermon. This cave had been a sanctuary or place of worship from the earliest times (Gen. 14: 14.)

Having thus selected the localities, Jeroboam set up there the objects for their worship. It was not his intention so much, perhaps, to teach the people the worship of images--he would hardly have ventured to do that in its bald form--but it was his intention that these calves or oxen should be the symbols representing the presence of God just as the ark and the cherubim did in the temple.

They were made of wood and covered with plates of gold. The ox was an old object of worship. Aaron had set it up in the wilderness, and Jeroboam used almost the very words of Aaron so long before (Ex. 32: 4).

The Israelites were made familiar with this image in the decorations of the temple of Solomon, including colossal cherubim. Also the great molten sea of brass was supported upon oxen of the same material.

THE DAMAGING RESULTS.

"And this thing became a sin: for the people went to worship before the one, even unto Dan.

"And he made a house of high places, and made priests of the lowest of the people, which were not of the sons of Levi."

It was hardly to be expected that any other result than that of sin would come from this course. It was, to begin with, a violation of the second commandment, and if Jeroboam did not intend to teach Israel the worship of false gods, this was the result of it, and repeatedly he is spoken of in the Scriptures as the one that did cause Israel to sin.

So completely were the people carried away with this bad current, that they preferred to get as far away from Jerusalem as possible, and went even to Dan to engage in their idolatrous practices.

At both these places where he had set up the calves, he built houses for them. Originally and commonly houses of worship were built upon high places, so that this expression "high places" came to be a description of the house itself.

It is not a fortunate translation to state that Jeroboam made priests of the lowest class of the people. It would have been poor policy, and would have brought his movement into disrepute.

The literal rendering of the Hebrew is "from the ends of the people," and means, as in the Revised Version, "from all the people."

Jeroboam would have been glad to have the priestly tribe, Levi, furnish him his priests, but they were loyal to God and the true worship and would not assist the king in his schism, so he had to get priests where he could from all the people and from any tribe.

In 2 Chron. 11: 13 it is said that the Levites in a body went over to Rehoboam. This greatly strengthened the king of Judah and tended to keep the religion of that part of the people pure.

NEW FEASTS APPOINTED.

"And Jeroboam ordained a feast in the eighth month, on the fifteenth day of the month, like unto the feast that is In Judah, and he offered upon the altar. So did he in Bethel, sacrificing unto the calves that he had made: and he placed in Bethel the priests of the high places which he had made.

"So he offered upon the altar which he had made in Bethel the fifteenth day of the eighth month, even in the month which he had devised of his own heart; and ordained a feast unto the children of Israel: and he offered upon the altar, and burnt incense."

Jeroboam was the more anxious to get his religious enterprises established because the time for the feast of the tabernacles was coming on and many of his people would be going up to Jerusalem.

He therefore, as a part of his scheme, very shrewdly appointed a counter feast, putting it on the same day of the month, the fifteenth, because that was the time of the full moon, but he changed the month.

The right time was the seventh month, corresponding with our October and November, and it was the most joyous of all the festivals celebrating the gathering of the harvest.

He could plead a good reason for putting his feast a month later, because the harvest was slower ripening in the northern part of the kingdom than in the southern, and the change of time would be an accommodation. The law fixing the seventh month is given (Lev. 23: 34, 39, 41).

At this feast Jeroboam himself approached the altar and served as a priest. He did this doubtless for two reasons--1, To give the royal sanction to the new religion; and 2, To show that he considered himself the religious as well as the civil head of the nation.

LESSONS.

1. Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. Jeroboam forgot this rule and put the improvement and fortifying of his kingdom first--his secular affairs--and as a result made a fatal mistake.

2. How long and far a sin reaches! Solomon's idolatry bears fruit in the breaking up of the nation and the lapse of half of it into heathenism. What a disappointment to God, who had done and borne so much for this people!

3. Jeroboam needed to have no fear about the perpetuity of his kingdom. He had an express promise from God. (1 Kings 11: 38.) But his faith in God's word failed, and hence he sinned. Thus sin is always the fruit of unbelief.

4. Jeroboam also put policy before principle; for the sake of temporary success he turned aside from the strictly right course. This is always wrong, and because wrong is unsafe. Fasten the lesson deep in your heart; never for the sake of any apparent advantage depart in the least from the truth as conscience and God's Word shall make it known to you.

5. It is said in the lesson that Jeroboam devised of his own heart these religious departures which he forced upon the people. Here was another feature of his sin--that he presumed to depart from the explicit directions that God had laid down as to the times, places and manner of His worship, and gave the people instead inventions of his own. To say the least, he had no business to do this, and he exposed himself to the curse that comes upon those who take from or add to God's Word.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

"On mission ground there was once a prayer meeting held in an idol temple. A lamp was placed in the hands or lap of each idol around the room, so that the idols themselves held the light by which the true God was worshiped. So the sins of Jeroboam may light us to heaven." --_Peloubet._

"Judge a religion by its god. Judge a people by the kind of god that will satisfy them. If a calf will do, what must be their intelligence? If nature will do, what must be their emotion? If science will do, what must be their moral sense? The Christian religion pays the highest tribute to human intelligence. It calls men to a God, infinite in every perfection." --_Joseph Parker._

"It has been remarked that the two tribes in whose inheritance the calves stood are not found among the number of the sealed in Revelations. The names of Ephraim and Dan are missing from that list." --_Waller._

* * * * *

"Oh, God, our strength! to Thee our song, With grateful hearts we raise; To Thee, and Thee alone, belong All worship, love and praise.

"And Thou, Oh, ever gracious Lord! Wilt keep Thy promise still, If, meekly hearkening to Thy word, We seek to do Thy will.

"Led by the light Thy grace imparts, Ne'er may we bow the knee To idols, which our wayward hearts Set up instead of Thee." --_Harriet Auber._

SIDNEY'S GOOD INTENTIONS.

(_A New Year's Story._)

by FLORENCE HALLOWELL.

"Sidney, did you leave that note at Mrs. Flynn's yesterday?" asked Mrs. Dent, as her eldest son came hurriedly into the sitting-room to get the pocket-knife which he had left on the table. "She hasn't come, and I don't know what I am going to do about the washing. Nora's arm is still so lame that she must not attempt to use it."

"Oh, mother, I am so sorry!" and Sidney looked mortified and contrite. "I fully intended to leave the note, but--"

"You forgot all about it," finished his sister Fannie, who was sewing at one of the front windows. "Of course! Mother ought to have known she couldn't trust you. Your intentions are always good, but that is as far as you go."

"It is a great deal easier to _intend_ to do a thing than to do it--everybody knows that," said Clara, a girl of twelve, who had put down her book as her brother came in. "I suppose as long as we live we'll have to hear Sidney say, 'I fully intended.' I don't expect anything else."

And she laughed.

"I can't help being forgetful," said Sidney.

"Perhaps not," said his mother; "but you could go a long way toward carrying out your good intentions if you would only do promptly whatever is given you to do."

"I will go to Mrs. Flynn's now," said Sidney. "She can get here by ten o'clock, anyway."

"Very well," said his mother. "The sooner you see her, the better it will be for the washing. This winter sun will not last long."

Sidney went out, and, hurrying on his overcoat and cap, was soon on the way to the cottage of Mrs. Flynn.

He felt a little depressed, for the remarks of his sisters had hurt his feelings a good deal.

He wondered, as he walked briskly along, if Fannie and Clara never forgot anything.

Next to Mrs. Flynn's was a small, brown cottage a good deal in want of repairs. It had needed a coat of paint for many a year, and some of the blinds were broken. But at the window was a very pretty little girl, with golden curls, and Sidney paused a minute to nod and smile at her. He knew her quite well, for she was sister to one of the junior clerks in his father's warehouse.

The child smiled in return, and looked into the rear of the room, saying something Sidney could not hear. But a moment later the head of a pale, sad-faced woman appeared above that of the little girl.

She bowed to Sidney and then moved quickly away.

"How ill Mrs. Stewart looks!" thought kind-hearted Sidney. "I imagine Christmas did not bring many good things to _this_ house. I remember now that I fully intended to send little Mabel a doll; but--"

And then he stopped and blushed hotly. _Another_ good intention never carried out.

Fortunately, he found Mrs. Flynn in, and she promised to go to his mother at once. So he walked away, feeling that he had done his best to repair the neglect of the previous day.

His next stopping-place was his father's office, which was a room built on to the warehouse, and communicating with it by a single door.

There was another door which opened on to a side alley, and was kept always locked. It was the door used exclusively by his father for entrance and exit. But Sidney was a privileged person, and had been allowed a pass-key. So he entered the office now without having to go through the busy warehouse.

He was disappointed to find the room empty. His father had promised to give him some money to buy powder, shot and caps for the new gun he had received on Christmas Day, and, like all boys, he felt that time was very precious when he was going to buy anything of that sort.

"Now I suppose I've got to wait," he soliloquized, as he threw himself into the swivel-chair in front of his father's desk. "It'll be noon before I get a chance to try the gun, I dare say."

He played with a paper-cutter at first; but soon his attention was attracted by a letter on the desk, the superscription of which was in a familiar hand.

He picked it up at once, for his Aunt Susan Dent's letters were always public property at home. His father never failed to bring them home and read them aloud at the supper-table. So Sidney drew this letter from the envelope without hesitation.

He had always received a five-dollar bill every Christmas from his aunt, but this year the day had come and gone without the customary present, and he gave an exclamation of joy when, on unfolding the letter, a five-dollar bill fell out.

"For me, of course. Better late than never," muttered Sidney, as he hastily glanced over the letter.

Yes, his aunt intended the money for him.

She wrote that she had been too ill to write just before Christmas, but that Sidney would probably rather have the gift come late than not at all.

"Well, I should say so!" ejaculated Sidney. "And now I needn't wait for father. I can use this money to buy my ammunition, and tell him about it at dinner time."

He restored the letter to its envelope, and then let himself out at the alley door. In five minutes he was in the nearest hardware store, bargaining for his shot.

His mind was full of the sport he expected to have that afternoon in the woods with his gun, and when he reached home he sprang up the steps two at a time.

He was about to ring, with no gentle hand, when the door was thrown open by his sister Fannie.

"We've been watching for you, Sidney," she said, in some excitement. "Uncle Charles is here, and wants you to go home with him for two or three days. He says he can promise you a splendid time. You'll have to hurry, though, for the train leaves at twelve o'clock, and it is half-past eleven now. We were _so_ afraid you wouldn't get back in time."

"Hurry, Sidney," said his mother, appearing at the parlor door. "Change your clothes as quickly as possible. I have packed your valise for you."

"No time to waste, my boy," said his uncle, from the dining-room, where he was snatching a hasty lunch, attended by Clara. "The train won't wait for us."

Sidney was soon ready, and, with a hasty good-by to his mother and sisters, hurried off with his uncle.

"And be sure you come back Friday night, Sidney," called out his sister Fannie, as she followed him to the front gate. "Don't 'fully intend' to do it, and then come walking in here on Sunday. You know you've got to make calls on New Year's Day."

"All right," answered Sidney. "I'll be here. You needn't worry."

It was not until he was in the train and half way to his destination that he thought of the five-dollar bill. He was provoked with himself that he had not spoken of it to his mother.

"But I'll write as soon as I get to Meadville," he thought; "and they'll get the letter to-morrow."

But there was a great deal to occupy him when he reached his uncle's home.

His cousins were fond of fun and were always ready for anything, and he was so hurried from one place to another and had so many calls on his time, that it was little wonder that the writing of that letter was postponed. He fully intended to write it, but it wasn't written.

Only the recollection of Fannie's parting words made him resist an invitation to a sleighing party and start for home on Friday. He knew how the girls would talk if he were not there to make those calls on New Year's Day.

He occupied himself while on the train with thinking on whom he would call and what he would talk about. His visit to Meadville would give him one subject, at least, for conversation.

It was nearly eleven o'clock at night when he reached home, but he found his father and mother and two sisters still up. They were finishing some preparations for the celebration of the next day.

"So you have actually come!" cried Fannie, as Sidney entered the room and went to the fire to warm his half-frozen hands and feet. "One good intention kept, at least. I'll score that to your credit, Sidney."

"It seems as if I had been gone a good deal longer than four days," said Sidney. "I've been in a perfect whirl of excitement ever since I left here."

"We've had some excitement, too," said Clara. "Father's discharged Harry Stuart."

"Yes, just think, Sidney, he stole five dollars," said Fannie.

"We merely _suspected_ him of stealing it, my daughter," said Mr. Dent. "I did not accuse him of it; but I fear there is no room to doubt that he is guilty. He was the only one in the office while I was out."

"It is very hard to believe Harry Stuart a thief," said Mrs. Dent. "He had as open and frank a face as I ever saw, and every one says he is devoted to his mother; but then of course he was greatly tempted, needing the money as he did."

"Do you mean the five-dollar bill Aunt Susan sent to me, father?" asked Sidney.

He had grown very pale and his voice trembled as he spoke.

"Yes; how did you hear of it? The letter came the very day you left."

"Oh, father, I read the letter, and--and it was I who took the money! I fully intended to tell you, but--"

And there Sidney broke down utterly and could not go on.

"_You_ took it!" repeated his father. "Oh, what trouble and sorrow you have brought upon an innocent person, Sidney, by not letting me know that sooner!"

"I intended to write from Meadville," faltered Sidney.

"But, as usual, you did not carry out your good intentions. Sidney, for the first time in my life I am ashamed of you--heartily ashamed."

By degrees they drew the whole story from Sidney; and, though they blamed him, they could not but feel sorry for him, so acute was his remorse.

"I hope this affair will be a lesson to you as long as you live," said Mr. Dent, as he dismissed the remorseful boy to his room.

Had it not been so late, Sidney would have gone that night to see Harry Stuart, but as it was, he was up the next morning by six o'clock, and in the cold, gray light of the first day of the New Year hurried to the little brown cottage.

He found Mrs. Stuart sitting by the bedside of her son, who, never strong, had been utterly prostrated by the trouble which had come upon him, and for two days he had been delirious with fever.

He did not recognize Sidney, and the latter could hardly repress his tears as he took the young man's hot hand in his own and looked down at his flushed face and unnaturally bright eyes, and heard him mutter incoherently his denial of the theft of which he had been suspected.

That was the only call Sidney made that day. All else was forgotten as he sat by Harry Stuart's bedside hour after hour, trying to atone for the pain and grief his carelessness had caused.

Harry got well at last and was restored to his former place with an increase in salary, and he and Sidney were firm friends for the rest of their lives; but Sidney never forgot the lesson he had learned and the good resolutions he had made that New Year's Day in the little brown cottage.

No one ever again heard him say, "I fully intended." To intend was to _do_ with him at last.

NEW YEAR'S EVE.

Ye bells! peal forth From south to north, No longer let your iron tongues be dumb: Up to the rafters swing, Make all the country ring An omen of a Happy Year to come,

[_This Story began in No. 2._]

ANDY FLETCHER,

the Story of a Boy with a Purpose.

by JOHN RUSSELL CORYELL,

Author of "Cast Adrift; or, Ned Carroll's Promise," etc.