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The Family Circle

GRANDMOTHER’S LESSON. The supper is over; the hearth is swept; And in the wood fire’s glow .The children cluster to hear a tale Of that time so long ago. ‘ Life is a stocking,’ grandma says, ‘ And yours is just begun; But I am knitting the toe of mine, And my work is almost done. ‘ With merry hearts we begin to knit, And the ribbing is almost play; Some are -colored, and some are white, And some are ashen grey. ‘ But most are made of many a hue, With many a stitch set wrong, And many a row he sadly ripped Ere the whole be fair and strong. ‘ There are long plain spaces without a break That in youth is hard to bear, many a weary tear is dropped As we fashion the heel with care. ■' But the saddest, happiest time is that We court, and vet would shun, "When our Heavenly Father breaks the thread And says that our work is done.’ ***** The children come to say ‘ Good-night,’ With tears in their bright young eyes, While in Grandma’s lap with broken thread, The finished stocking lies. MARJORIE’S VICTORY. ‘ Uncle Howard,’ asked Marjorie, looking up from the book she was reading, ‘ what is a coincidence ?’ ‘Let me see,’ replied Uncle Howard, trying to think how to make a simple definition. ‘ When two things happen at the. same time that have nothing to do with each other, but seem to have a great deal to do with each other, we call it a coincidence.’ Seeing that Marjorie still looked puzzled, he started to explain further, when a telephone message called him away. As he took down his hat in the hall, however, he paused long enough to say, ‘ I’ll look out for a first-rate coincidence to show you, Marjorie, and then you’ll understand better.’ The*next day happened to be Friday, and because there 7 as no one to drive Marjorie to school, and because she was not able to walk so far, she was obliged to remain at home.

Mamma and Uncle Howard were very sorry, and they all thought of the two shining gold pieces in Marjorie’s bank that meant two whole years without an absence, and of the tnnd cnat was to have joined them so soon; for Great-Aunt Morton, who lived in the big house on the hill, had laughingly told Marjorie the very first day she went to school that she should have a fivedollar gold piece at the end of each year that she was neither absent nor tardy. But the gold 'piece was as nothing compared with the broken record, and Marjorie sobbed aloud for a few minutes; then, like the brave little girl that she was, she dried her tears, got out her paint-box, and began coloring up some sunbonnet babies -for the other children.

When she went to school on Monday morning everybody was talking about the fire that had occurred the day before, and to her relief, nobody said anything to her about her absence. She said to herself that she just could not have stood it, if anybody had.

Two weeks later the monthly report-cards were

given out. Marjorie received hers' with a sad heart, as she thought of the brpken record. She did not even open the envelope until Gertrude Harris had turned off on her. own street and she was alone. , v • But as she glanced over the card, something within' her gave a great leap. Could she believe her own eyes? There were no marks in the absence - column! The teacher must have made a mistake. Mamma and Uncle Howard looked the card over, and said they were glad Marjorie had gone from ‘ G ’ to * G plus ’ in her reading, but neither of them thought of the omission. Then came a great temptation to Marjorie. If she should say nothing about the mistake, the record would remain as it was, and the teacher and pupils would forget by next year, and Great-Aunt Morton need never know. So the report-card was returned to the Teacher without anything being said. All the next week Marjorie struggled with the temptation. She seemed unlike herself. * • Friday came again, the last day of school. Marjorie could stand it no longer. Summoning all *her courage, she came back into the schoolroom at recess, after the others were all out, and sobbed out her story to her teacher. bo you thought I made a mistake, did you?’ asked the teacher. ‘ I’m so glad you told me, because I can assure you that you are the one who has made the mistake. That day was a very cold one, you remember, and something broke about the furnace early in the morning, so we couldn’t have school that day. We sent word to all whom we could reach easily, and dismissed the others as soon as they came. You live so far away we could not notify you. I’m sorry this has troubled you so much; you should have told your mother or me sooner.’ .••U-y

Marjorie ran-round to Great-Aunt Morton’s after school with her report-card, and then fairly flew home to tell her story to mamma and Uncle Howard. ‘ hat’s what I call the happiest kind of a coincidence,’ said Uncle Howard, as he heard the five-dollar piece rattle down with its mates. ‘ Now you know the meaning of the word.’ ‘ I call it a great victory,’ said mamma, thinking of something quite different.. But Marjorie understood both.

THE DILATORY CORRESPONDENT. A story was recently told by an American author residing in London. At an evening gathering of a company of bright men, the conversation turned upon neglect to answer letters promptly, when he related his experience* The literary man received one morning a letter from an intimate friend in America, announcing briefly the sudden death of his wife, to whom he was devotedly attached. The letter was read with deep sympathy, and was put aside in a pigeon-hole of the author’s desk, to be answered by the first trans-Atlantic mail. Like other men who earn their living by their pens, this author disliked private correspondence, and had formed the habit of holding letters for some time before answering them,. The letter of the heart-broken husband was not nne that could be easily answered. ■ The next ocean mail did not have the author’s reply. He waited another week and tried to begin a letter, but was interrupted by a caller. A fortnight afterward he reproached himself for his heartless procrastination, and made a fresh start; but the opening sentences did not suit him, and he tore Up the sheet. A month passed, and the letter was still unanswered. He thought of his friend very often, but he could not force himself to write the usual expressions of condolence and sympathy. Six months went by, and the letter was still at the bottom of the file.

At 'last he was overwhelmed’ with a ■ feeling of shame for having treated his friend with such coldness and indifference. Me answered the letter. He filled five or six sheets with tender reminiscences of the

American friend’s wife, and v with sympathetic expressions of friendly feeling. The letter was stamped, sealed, and sent off by post. What ■ was his horror and amazement when the - next morning s mail brought him a second letter from the same American friend!' He looked at the envelope with a vacant stare for a moment, and then hurriedly broke the seal. It announced the widower’s engagement with a young lady to whose beauty and intellectual graces he bore full tribute. The author was dismayed. If the second letter had only come a day earlier, the first would never have been answered. As it was, the happy man in America would receive the letter of condolence when he was in the mood for congratulations and good wishes. Well, said the author, in conclusion, ‘the incident worked preform in my habits as a correspondent. I answered that-letter at once, and from that time I have not allowed my correspondence to fall into arrears.’ HAD TO PAY. chairman of a certain great railway company recently chided a ticket-examiner who went by him without looking at his pass. • ‘No matter if you do know who I am,’ said he, in reply to the examiner’s excuse. ‘I am entitled to a free ride only when I am travelling with that pass. You don’t know whether I have it or not.’ The man, a 'little nettled, then demanded to see the pass. ‘That’s right!’ exclaimed the worthy chairman; ‘ here—why —where —well, I declare ! I must have left it at the office.’

‘ Then you’ll have to pay your fare,’ said the examiner, firmly. And he did.

TIPS—AND TIPS. An American spending his vacation in Scotland had an opportunity to play golf every day on a worldfamous links. Moreover, he had assigned to him an exceptionally fine caddie, who had frequently carried the bags of the best golfers in Scotland. ‘ Donald, my man, I expect to get some good tips from you while I am here,’ said the American, while making the first round of the course.

‘And I expect,’ returned the thrifty Donald, ‘the like frae you.’

A NEAT REPLY. In My Varied Life, Mr. F. C. Phillips tells an amusing story of the English judge, the late Sir George Honyman, who wrote a wretched hand. On one occasion Sir George sent a note to a friend among the lawyers seated at the barristers’ table. Not being able to make head or tail of it, the friend scribbled something absolutely undecipherable upon a half sheet of notepaper and passed it up to the judge. Sir George looked somewhat annoyed when he glanced at it, and when the Court rose he spoke to his friend, and said : ‘ What do you mean by this ? I asked you to come and dine with me to-night.’ ‘ Yes,’ said the barrister, ‘ and I replied that I should be extremely glad to do so.’

EASILY EX-PLAINED. Buffon, the great naturalist, one day entertained a company of distinguished savants at dinner, at the conclusion of which they all went into the garden. It was a very hot summer’s day. In the centre of the grounds there stood on a pedestal a large glass globe, which one of the guests happened to touch with his hand, when he found, to his astonishment, that it was warmer on the shady side than on the side turned to-

wards the sun. He communicated ; his discovery. to the other guests, who at once proceeded to verily statement. What could be the cause ? An animated discussion ensued, in the course of which every - imaginable law of physics was made to account for the strange paradox. ’ • "T At length the scientists agreed that it must be so owing to the laws of reflection, repulsion, or exhalation, or some other law of physics with a long ; name.-j The host was, however, not quite convinced, and, calling his gardener, he said to him : ’ j • Pray tell us why the globe is warmer on the’shady, side than on the side turned to the sun.’ - The man replied : Because just now I turned it round for fear of its cracking with the great heat.’

HATFUL OF PEARLS. The wit of Jenny Lind was as charming in its way as her voice. On the occasion of her second rehearsal at the Paris Opera House, Labiache, the famous singer, was entranced with her voice. Flurrying up to her he said, enthusiastically : ‘ Give me your hand, maderiioiselle ! Every note in your voice is a pearl !’ Give me your hat,’ replied Jenny Lind, with a playful smile. Labi ache handed the hat to her. Putting it to her mouth, she gave one of her matchless trills and birdlike snatches of song. ‘ Here,’ she said, smiling at the delighted Lablache, as she returned his property, 1 is a hatful of pearls for you, monsieur.’

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE, . One morning a well-known woman of Chicago while shopping thoughtlessly picked up an umbrella belonging to another woman and started to walk off with it. The owner stopped her, and the absent-minded one, with many apologies, returned the umbrella. This little incident served to remind her that a number of umbrellas were needed in her family, so she bought two for her daughters and one for herself. As it was the holiday season, she took the articles with her, instead of ordering their delivery. As she entered a car, armed with the three umbrellas, she chanced to observe that exactly opposite her sat. the very woman with whom she had the unfortunate experience but a short while before. The second woman stared at the three umbrellas very hard for several minutes. Then, with a significant smile, she leaned across the aisle and said in an icy tone, ‘ I see you’ve had a successful hour.’

OFFICIAL CHARGE. A stranger got off a tram car in Chicago, and, accosting a newsboy, asked him to direct him to the nearest bank. ‘This way,’ said the ‘ newsie,’ and, turning the corner, pointed to a sky-scraper just across the street. ‘Thank you, and what do I owe you?’ said the gentleman, pulling two cents out of his pocket. ‘ A quarter, please.’ ‘ A quarter ! Isn’t that pretty high for directing a man to the bank V ‘ You’ll find, sir,’ said the youngster, ‘ that bank directors are paid high in Chicago.’

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.I whakaputaina aunoatia ēnei kuputuhi tuhinga, e kitea ai pea ētahi hapa i roto. Tirohia te whārangi katoa kia kitea te āhuatanga taketake o te tuhinga.
Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT19150701.2.108

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

New Zealand Tablet, 1 July 1915, Page 61

Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,237

The Family Circle New Zealand Tablet, 1 July 1915, Page 61

The Family Circle New Zealand Tablet, 1 July 1915, Page 61

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