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diff --git a/14111-h/14111-h.htm b/14111-h/14111-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0d7606 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/14111-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,846 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 15, April 12, 1914, by Various</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 35%; + margin-top: 2.2em; + margin-bottom: 2.2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 8%; + margin-right: 8%; + } + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14111 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 15, April 12, 1914, +by Various, Edited by George E. Cook</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="100%" alt="" /> +</div> + +<h3>VOL. 37. No. 15. WEEKLY.<br /> +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS. GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR.<br /> +APRIL 12, 1914.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg1_twogifts.jpg" width="700" height="139" +alt="TWO EASTER LOVE-GIFTS BY JULIA H. JOHNSON" /> +</div> + +<p>"Why, Myra, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>Mabel had found Myra crying in a little sheltered place where the +little neighbors sometimes played together. Mabel lived in a big house +and Myra in a little one, but they were neighbors, and loved each +other just the same.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to cry long," Myra said, "but I couldn't help having a +small cry before I began to look pleasant. It's because mother could +not make my white dress for Easter. She had to sew for other people +till it was too late, and now I have to wear my blue dress when all +the rest in our class wear white."</p> + +<p>"That is too bad." said Mabel, putting her arm around her small +neighbor, "but we'll all love you just the same."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Myra said, drying her tears, "and mother said that if I would +take it pleasantly, and be happy just the same, because it was right, +that it would be like an Easter love-gift. I can't take many pennies, +but I do mean to take the love-gift, and I'll begin now, so that's the +last tear." Her smile came out like a bright little rainbow. Mabel +kissed her, because she could not help it, and the two little girls +went together to look for as many little spring things as they could +find. This was the best possible thing to do.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Mabel that night, in the little go-to-bed talk. "Myra +has to wear a blue dress on Easter Day, when the rest of us will all +wear white. I am so sorry for her."</p> + +<p>"Is Myra very sorry, too?" asked mother.</p> + +<p>"Of course she is, mother: I found her crying over it this afternoon. +But she stopped pretty soon, and said she would not cry any more." +Then Mabel told about the "love-gift."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could take some kind of a love-gift, too," said Mabel, +seeing that her mother thought this a beautiful thing.</p> + +<p>"I am sure you could, if you would." said mother.</p> + +<p>"Please, tell me how."</p> + +<p>"No. it must be your own <i>love-thought</i> first. You will have to-morrow +to think it out. Good-night, now."</p> + +<p>Mabel thought and thought a long time, next day. At last she whispered +something to mother that made her look very happy, and say "Yes, +dear."</p> + +<p>On Easter morning Mabel waited for Myra, that they might go to +Sunday-school together.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" cried Myra, as she saw Mabel, "you have on your pink dress +in-stead of your new white one. Now I don't mind my blue one."</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg1_samerow.jpg" width="471" height="650" +alt="Illustration: "We sit in the same row," said Mabel." /> +</div> + +<p>"We sit in the same row, you know," said Mabel, "and we'll be near +together." She looked very happy. The two little girls with shining +faces went together to God's house, and One above looked down and +smiled upon them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE MYSTERY IN BILLY'S YARD.</h3> + +<p>"Something's going on over to our place."</p> + +<p>Billy Wells walked into the school yard at noon with a face which +showed that the "something" was very important indeed. The other boys +gathered in a little crowd about him.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Billy?"</p> + + + +<p>"Tell us, Billy."</p> + +<p>"It's—somebody that's come there—"</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To stay, I guess. Acts that way."</p> + +<p>"Friends of the folks?"</p> + +<p>"No, we've never seen 'em before."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean some kind of a tramp?"</p> + +<p>"What's he doing?"</p> + +<p>"Seems to be building a house."</p> + +<p>"A house? Well, that sounds queer."</p> + +<p>"Whereabouts?"</p> + +<p>"In my father's back yard."</p> + +<p>"Billy, you're joking."</p> + +<p>"It's as true as I stand here."</p> + +<p>"Well, go on and tell more about it. Did he skulk 'round as if he was +afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it."</p> + +<p>"Did he see you?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Billy hesitated a little. "I didn't go so very near him."</p> + +<p>"That's best for you," one of the boys shook his head wisely. "You +never can tell what these tramp fellows may be up to."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean—building?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I say. He was picking up things in the yard to build with. +Stuff to begin with."</p> + +<p>"Your father's stuff?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What does your father think of it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he's seen him. Father goes to work early."</p> + +<p>"Of course he'll drive him off."</p> + +<p>"Another one came and helped him," said Billy. "They were both working +hard when I came to school."</p> + +<p>"Billy, you're fooling us."</p> + +<p>"You can come and see for yourselves," said Billy. "You can see if it +isn't exactly as I've said."</p> + +<p>"Let's do it."</p> + +<p>It was agreed, and after school a number of small boys took with him +the road leading to Billy's home. As they went in by the shady back +yard, Billy held up his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"S-h-h-h-h—don't scare 'em! Now—come this way—look up there!"</p> + +<p>Billy led the way into a corner and pointed up into an oak tree.</p> + +<p>"There—right above that branch—see? They've got their sticks for the +foundation, and now they're finishing up. Quick—see that flash of +blue just where the sun shines! Look! look! they're pulling at that +bit of red yarn—I put it up there. My mother always hangs bits of +string about for 'em. My mother likes blue-birds."—<i>Written for Dew +Drops by Sydney Dare.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p>When anyone speaks to us in anger, we should remember that it takes +two to make a quarrel, and determine not to become one of the two.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_enids.gif" width="400" height="198" +alt="ENID'S FLOWERS BY MARY E. Q. BRUSH" /> +</div> + +<p>The first robin had come, so had the first bluebird and the first +hand-organ man; caterpillars were beginning to crawl along the sunny +side of the fence rails and everybody was housecleaning, so it was +quite certain that spring was here.</p> + +<p>With it there came to the three little Ashley sisters three packets of +seeds.</p> + +<p>A lady friend of their mother had sent them. Every one of them had +printed on it, "A Surprise Collection."</p> + +<p>When the little, light-brown envelopes were opened, they were found to +contain several varieties of seeds. Some were like little, round, +brown pills—those were "sweet-peas," mamma said. Others were very +small indeed, like grains of powder, and some were like tiny, +grayish-green sticks—somebody said those were verbena seeds; and, +well, dear me, there were all kinds and shapes and sizes and grays and +browns.</p> + +<p>Three neat, round beds were spaded up on the lawn, and Amy, Enid and +Ruth raked them over, smoothed and patted the rich soil, and then +planted their seeds.</p> + +<p>Of course, you know what happened next. There had to be waiting, +watching, weeding and watering. Most of the seeds sprouted and grew, +and soon the dark brown earth was covered by green shoots and trailing +sprays.</p> + +<p>By and by, buds began to appear and tiny bits of color to show, and +then how happy the little girls were!</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_pleased.gif" width="231" height="400" alt="Illustration: Enid was pleased." /> +</div> + +<p>All but Enid. She was pleased, but also a little disappointed.</p> + +<p>Now, it so happened, that Ruth's "Surprise Collection" turned out to +be pansies, asters, phlox and ragged sailors—all posies of bright +pink, purple and crimson in various shades. Amy's garden plot was gay +with marigolds, four-o'clocks, larkspurs, and bachelor's-buttons—all +orange and yellow, blue and purple.</p> + +<p>But Enid's flowers were nearly all white, and it was truly a surprise, +though not a very agreeable one. She had white verbenas, sweet +alyssum, candytuft, daisies and gillyflowers.</p> + +<p>Consequently, her flower bed did not attract as much attention from +the passers-by as did the gay ones of her sisters.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, almost all my posies are sweet-smelling," the little girl +said, trying her best to be contented. For, after all, to own flowers, +every one of which was fragrant, was a comfort.</p> + +<p>Then, there came another comfort—a real "surprise" comfort. Late one +evening, after the family had been away all day, attending the +Sunday-school picnic, and drove home in the moonlight, what do you +suppose they saw as they turned in at the gateway? Why, there on the +lawn, was a great circle of white, gleaming like frosted silver.</p> + +<p>"Wonder if a sheet has blown off the clothesline," said grandma.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't a sheet—it's my flower bed! It's my dear, darling white +posies!"</p> + +<p>And, sure enough, the white flowers could be seen in the dark, when +all the gay reds and yellows and blues and purples were dim and dull.</p> + +<p>Enid felt very happy.</p> + +<p>"I like 'surprise collections' you can see at night," she said.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>TRUE LOVE.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"How much I love, you, mother dear,"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A little prattler said;<br /></span> +<span>"I love you in the morning bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And when I go to bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"I love you when I'm near to you,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And when I'm far away;<br /></span> +<span>I love you when I am at work,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And when I am at play."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>And then she shyly, sweetly raised<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Her loving eyes of blue—<br /></span> +<span>"I love you when you love me best,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And when you scold me, too."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>The mother kissed her darling child,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And stooped a tear to hide:<br /></span> +<span>"My precious one, I love you most<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When I am forced to chide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"I could not let my darling child<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In sin and folly go;<br /></span> +<span>And this is why I sometimes chide—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Because I love you so."<br /></span> +<span class="i12">—<i>Sel</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr /> + +<h3>A RUNAWAY UMBRELLA.</h3> + +<p>There was a big umbrella with a pretty twisted handle, that belonged +to father, and he carried it down town on rainy days. There was a +little brown-eyed girl, who was four years old her last birthday; that +was Marjorie.</p> + +<p>There was a mischievous south wind that would be quiet for a long time +and then come with a quick gust and blow, oh, ever so hard and play +all sorts of pranks on people.</p> + +<p>Then, there was a lady who sat on a porch not very far from Marjorie's +house. These four together made a story, and that's what I am going to +tell you about.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful sunny day and Marjorie was going out in the front +yard to play. As she went through the hall there, by the hall tree, +stood the big umbrella.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it be fun to take the umbrella and play rainy day?" she +thought. So she reached and picked it up.</p> + +<p>Through the door, across the porch and down onto the sidewalk she ran. +She worked a long while before she could get the umbrella to stay up.</p> + +<p>"Now, I am a big lady with a long dress and I am going over to the +store," she said to herself as she gathered her little short skirt up +with one hand, and held the umbrella up straight and fine with the +other. Walking carefully, "because it is so muddy," she said, as down +the street she started. Pretty soon a gust of the mischievous south +wind came along and lifted the umbrella right out of Marjorie's little +fat hand and took it out into the middle of the street and set it down.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_muddy.gif" width="386" height="400" +alt="Illustration: She walked carefully because it was muddy." /> +</div> + +<p>Forgetting the rainy day, the long skirt, and the mud, off the curbing +she jumped, and ran for the umbrella. She had almost grasped it +again, when along came another gust of wind, and down the street +bumity-bump went the big, open umbrella. Marjorie started to run after +it, but over and over it went so much faster than a little girl could +run, that it was soon far out of her reach.</p> + +<p>Then she began to cry.</p> + +<p>"Catch it, oh, catch it!" she screamed, as she ran.</p> + +<p>The lady I told you about heard the cry, and looking up from her +reading, saw the big umbrella go rolling past, followed by the +frightened, crying little girl. Down the steps she ran and out into +the street after the umbrella. "Bump," it went up against a telephone +pole and the wind left it there. In a moment the lady had it in her +hand.</p> + +<p>"I want it down, oh, please, I want it down." sobbed Marjorie all out +of breath.</p> + +<p>"Now, it's all right. Don't cry any more," said the lady as she put it +down and handed it to Marjorie, kissing her little tear-stained face.</p> + +<p>Marjorie clung to it with both hands and started for home. She wanted +to put the umbrella back by the hall tree, and tell mother all about +the runaway.—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Flora Louise Whitmore.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE ADOPTED BROOD.</h3> + +<p>"Oh, look, Bobby!" said Betty, as she jumped out of the swing, and +went running down toward the hayfield. "Here comes Joe, and he has +something to show us. I know it's a surprise."</p> + +<p>Bobby looked, and then he and Betty went running to meet Joe, who was +coming along the path by the orchard. He was carrying his straw hat +carefully in one hand, and beckoning with his other hand for the +children to hurry and see the surprise.</p> + +<p>"What have you got?" shouted both the children, excitedly, as they +came near.</p> + +<p>"Eggs." said Joe.</p> + +<p>"Oh, eggs," said Bobby and Betty. "Eggs—why eggs are nothing to see. +We find them every day."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Joe, "but these are not hen's eggs—they are pheasant's +eggs!"</p> + +<p>Bobby and Betty looked, and sure enough, in Joe's hat were seven +eggs—olive-brown in color.</p> + +<p>"We were mowing in the meadow," said Joe, "and we almost ran over a +mother pheasant on her nest. She flew up right under the horse's feet, +and old Nell almost stepped into the nest. I took all the eggs, +because a pheasant will not come back to the nest after she has been +frightened away. She finds another place and makes a new nest. She +won't go back to the old one."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bobby, "what are you going to do with the eggs?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Joe, "I'm going to put them under that little brown bantam +hen that wants to set, and let her hatch them."</p> + +<p>So Bobby and Betty went with Joe, and watched him while he made a +comfortable nest in an old box in the shop loft. Then he put the seven +eggs in the nest carefully, and got the little bantam hen and put her +in, too. She clucked and scolded, and when Joe put her in the box she +stood up and moved the eggs round with her feet, to arrange them as +she wished before she would settle down; but when Bobby and Betty +peeped in, a little later, she was all comfortable for her long wait +of three weeks. Joe put grain and water near by, and Bobby and Betty +peeped in almost every day.</p> + +<p>One day when the children went near the nest, they heard little +peeping sounds, and ran to tell Joe. He came and lifted up the little +bantam hen, although she scolded and pecked at him; and in the nest +Bobby and Betty saw six little pheasant chicks and one egg that did +not hatch. The pheasant chicks were little brown downy things, and Joe +took hen, chicks, nest and all, and made a little coop for them under +the orchard trees. The little chicks were very lively and very +shy—not like hen chicks; they loved to run away and hide in the +grass, and the children could hardly find them at all when they looked +for them. Mother Bantam would cluck and run back and forth in the coop +and call to them, she was so afraid something would happen. At last, +one day, Joe decided to let the little bantam run with her brood, and +show them how to scratch and find worms. So he took away the slats +from the foot of the coop, and Mrs. Bantam stepped out.</p> + +<p>The children saw the hen and chicks in the orchard grass. The little +pheasants ran through the orchard and the little bantam hen followed +them. What became of them nobody knew, and they have never been seen +since. Joe thinks they are still out in the woods, and that the little +pheasants are teaching their mother how to get her own food +there.—<i>Selected</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Not mighty deeds make up the sum<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of happiness below:<br /></span> +<span>But little acts of kindliness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which any child may show."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_jasmine.gif" width="700" height="158" +alt="WHERE THE JASMINE BELLS WERE RINGING BY ALICE MILLER WEEKS" /> +</div> + +<p>The pine woodland was dark and sweet and cool, and grandmother and +little Emily were walking through it, hand in hand, enjoying its peace +and fragrance. The trees grew so closely on either side of the narrow +path that hardly a glimpse of blue sky could be seen overhead, and not +a shaft of golden sunlight was bold enough to shine down through the +glossy pine needles, as both were thinking.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes there is!" little Emily called suddenly, as if answering her +own thoughts aloud. "There's a sunbeam over there—right where the +trees are thickest!"</p> + +<p>Grandmother and she hurried to the spot; it seemed a little strange +that the sunlight should have filtered down through such dense shade. +And when they reached it, it was not sunshine at all. It was a +delicate spray of clustered yellow bells, swaying from a slender +thread of vine, and filling the spring air with delicious perfume.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's jasmine!" grandmother and little Emily exclaimed, at the +same moment. And a mocking-bird, flying by, stopped a moment to trill +a sweet strain, as if he, too, was glad to welcome back this lovely +blossom of early spring.</p> + +<p>Little Emily gathered the spray of golden bells very carefully, to +carry it home to mother, who was not well enough to walk in the +woodland and see it where it grew; and all that day and the next, the +sweetness of the delicate flowers filled the room and seemed to speak +of love and hope and cheer.</p> + +<p>"They bring the sunshine and springtime right here to me," the little +girl's mother said, looking lovingly at Emily. "They are like a small +lassie I know, who helps to brighten all the dark places in my life."</p> + +<p>Emily looked questioningly at her mother. "What does that mean, +mamma?" she asked. And grandmother, who was standing by, said, with a +smile:</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_sunshine.gif" width="369" height="550" +alt="Illustration: "You thought the jasmine bells were sunshine."" /> +</div> + +<p>"You thought the jasmine bells, shining in the dark wood, were a gleam +of sunshine, dear, brightening up the gloom. There are sometimes dark +places in our lives, you know; mother is having one just now, while +she is not well enough to go out herself into the sunshine. And her +little daughter, by being sweet and cheery, is just such a gleam of +sunshine to her as the jasmine bells were to the dark pine woods."</p> + +<p>Little Emily leaned over her mother for a kiss, then turned to touch +caressingly the golden bells of the jasmine.</p> + +<p>"Dear little sunshine flowers," she said, lovingly. "I'll try to +remember you every day, and be a sunshine maker, too."</p> + + +<hr /> + +<p>The more one controls his temper, the less will it control him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_knowledge.gif" width="400" height="76" alt="Knowledge Box" /> +</div> + +<h3>Berry.</h3> + + +<p>Berry is not something to eat, as you might think, but a big dog that +has a very important place. He is the night watchdog of the Electra +Company's factory in Cleveland, Ohio. Before Berry was given the job +they had a watchman, but he had to be discharged because he was +unfaithful, which Berry never is. He is well fitted for the place, as +he is a big, powerful animal, part Newfoundland and part St. Bernard, +and weighs 170 pounds. Not only does he do his duty well, but Berry +works cheap, for he is counted an employé of the company, and is on +the pay roll at seventy cents a week, which is the cost of the food he +eats.</p> + +<p>Berry is not only faithful, but one night he even proved himself a +hero, in a battle with two desperate safe robbers, who had gained +entrance to the office by sawing the lock, thinking, no doubt, that +they could easily overcome the watchdog. But when the door was burst +open, Berry instantly sprang at the burglars, and a terrible fight he +had, for the men who had come armed with pieces of lead pipe, struck +him most cruel blows.</p> + +<p>But they struck in vain, for with howls of mingled pain and +determination to guard his trust, Berry fought the robbers till they +were glad to escape into the darkness. It had been a desperate +struggle, and though Berry was terribly hurt, he had proved that he +was both fearless and faithful. In the morning he was found lying +beside the safe whose valuable contents he had kept from being +touched, but with only enough of life left to give a feeble wag of +welcome to his master, as though he would say, "You trusted me. and I +have kept the trust."</p> + +<p>So badly was Berry injured that he was taken to a dog hospital where +for two weeks it was uncertain whether he would live or die. But at +last he grew well so he was able to go back to work again, more loved +and trusted than ever.</p> + +<p>Though only a dog, was not Berry a hero?—<i>Written for Dew Drops by +Adele E. Thompson.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>EASTER DAY.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Awake, pretty flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Asleep in the snows,<br /></span> +<span>For this is the morning<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When Jesus arose.<br /></span> +<span>Each lily he loved<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the meadows of old,<br /></span> +<span>Will welcome the Master<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With blossoms of gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ye violets, sweet with<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The breath of the South;<br /></span> +<span>Anemone blushing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With rosy-lipped mouth;<br /></span> +<span>Arbutus, half-hiding<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your delicate grace—<br /></span> +<span>The Savior has risen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behold ye his face!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>The types of his death<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And rising are ye.<br /></span> +<span>Fair gems of the meadow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bright buds of the lea.<br /></span> +<span>"Messiah is living!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cherubim say;<br /></span> +<span>Shine forth in your beauty<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To greet him to-day!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">—<i>Sel</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>OUR LESSON.—For April 12.</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h4>PREPARED BY MARGUERITE COOK.</h4> + +<hr /> + +<p>Title.—The Journey to Emmaus (Easter Lesson).—Luke 24: 13-35.</p> + +<p>Golden Text.—It is Christ ... that was raised from the dead.—Rom. +8:34.</p> + +<p><i>Golden Text for Beginners</i>.—Be ye <i>kind one to another</i>.—Eph. 4:32.</p> + +<p>Truth.—Jesus is alive for evermore.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + +<p>1. The day that Jesus arose from the dead two of his friends walked to +a village called Emmaus, near Jerusalem.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_lesson1.gif" width="350" height="226" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>2. Jesus passing by noticed that as they walked they talked together +and seemed very sad.</p> + +<p>3. He went up to them and walked with them and asked them why they +were so sorrowful.</p> + +<p>4. They did not believe that Jesus had risen from the dead, and when +they saw him they did not know him.</p> + +<p>5. They told him about the sad things that had happened—how Jesus had +been put to death and placed in the grave.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_heisrisen.gif" width="317" height="400" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>6. They said that some women who had visited the tomb of Jesus had +told them that Jesus was risen.</p> + +<p>7. Jesus then told the two men that if they were not so slow to +believe the Word of God and the promise Jesus had given them they +would know that it must be true.</p> + +<p>8. When they came to their home the men urged Jesus to stop with them +for it was now evening.</p> + +<p>9. While they were eating supper Jesus took bread and blessed it and +gave it to them.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_lesson3.gif" width="350" height="314" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>10. As they saw Jesus blessing the bread they knew him, but he at once +vanished out of their sight.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_lesson4.gif" width="350" height="327" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>11. They said one to another, "Did not our hearts burn within us while +we talked by the way?"</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_lesson5.gif" width="350" height="259" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>12. They at once went back to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples +the good news that Jesus had truly risen from the dead and they had +seen him.</p> + +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>QUESTIONS.</h4> + +<p>What is the Golden Text? What is the Truth?</p> + +<p>1. On what day did two of Jesus' friends walk to a village called +Emmaus?</p> + +<p>2. As Jesus passed by, what did he notice?</p> + +<p>3. What did he do?</p> + +<p>4. What did they not believe?</p> + +<p>5. About what did they tell him?</p> + +<p>6. What had some women told them, who had visited Jesus' tomb?</p> + +<p>7. What did Jesus tell the two men?</p> + +<p>8. When they came to their home what did they urge Jesus to do?</p> + +<p>9. While they were eating supper what did Jesus do?</p> + +<p>10. When they knew him what became of Jesus?</p> + +<p>11. What did they say one to another?</p> + +<p>12. What did they at once go back to Jerusalem to tell the other +disciples?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><b>LESSON HYMN.</b></p> + +<p><i>Tune</i>—"Jesus loves me, this I know," omitting chorus (E flat).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Close beside us every day<br /></span> +<span>Christ is walking all the way;<br /></span> +<span>And his voice is very near;<br /></span> +<span>If we listen we may hear.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><b>Title of Lesson for April 19.</b></p> + +<p>The Cost of Discipleship.—Luke 14:25-35.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><b>Golden Text for April 19.</b></p> + +<p>Whosoever shall lose his life for my sake shall find it.—Matt. 16:25.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><b>Beginners Golden Text for April 19.</b></p> + +<p><i>Be ye kind one to another</i>.—Eph. 4:32.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg4_advice.gif" width="450" height="82" alt="Advice to Boys and Girls" /> +</div> + +<h3>The Extra Step Society.</h3> + + +<p>The "Extra Step Society" was formed in the Martin household when the +mother was forced to be on the lounge for some time with a sprained +ankle. It was Tom who cheerfully took an extra step on his way to +school each day to call at his grandmother's and report the progress +of the invalid. It was Bessie who left her play and stepped softly +into the parlor every morning to lower the blind so that the sun's +rays might not beam too warmly on her mother's face. And it was wee +Alice who took many an extra step during the day, sometimes to carry a +glass of fresh water to her mother, and sometimes to bring a magazine +or paper.</p> + +<p>"We're trying to pay you back a little, mamma," Bessie said lovingly +one night when all the children were gathered around their mother. "We +don't mind a bit taking extra steps if only we can make you +comfortable, so you must not think we get tired of doing things for +you."</p> + +<p>"Bless my faithful, unselfish little nurses!" Mrs. Martin rejoined +earnestly. "Love lightens your labors."—<i>Sel.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg4_mothers.gif" width="450" height="73" alt="Thoughts for Mothers" /> +</div> + +<h3>The Care of the Home.</h3> + +<p>The busy mother will find the care of the home too much for one pair +of hands unless she enlists the children as helpers. Let her begin to +practice systematics at once. Assign some corner or box of play-things +to one child to be cared for. A small boy might have the work of +putting away yesterday's newspapers regularly, as his part in keeping +the house tidy. The small daughter could pick up and dust in one +special room, taking care that a second dusting by a more careful hand +is not necessary.</p> + +<p>The motive for doing these little tasks well should be made prominent, +showing that the child is big enough to "help" mother. Praise should +be bestowed, not as if it were anything astonishing and out of the way +for the child to do the work well, but as a token of appreciation of +the motive and manner in doing it. Encourage as much as possible, but +do not develop vanity by praising to excess.</p> + +<p>Let their love be the mainspring of their every act of +service.—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Julia H. Johnston</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>[Entered at the Post Office at Elgin, Ill., as Second Class Mail +Matter.]</p> + +<p><b>Price of Dew Drops</b>.—In lots of five or more, to one address, 20 +cents per copy per year, or 5-1/2 cents per copy per quarter. Address,</p> + +<p><b>DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILL.</b></p> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14111 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg1_samerow.jpg b/14111-h/images/pg1_samerow.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb146da --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg1_samerow.jpg diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg1_twogifts.jpg b/14111-h/images/pg1_twogifts.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..24cfae5 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg1_twogifts.jpg diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg2_enids.gif b/14111-h/images/pg2_enids.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de15aa3 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg2_enids.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg2_muddy.gif b/14111-h/images/pg2_muddy.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..834234d --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg2_muddy.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg2_pleased.gif b/14111-h/images/pg2_pleased.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2dad9c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg2_pleased.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg3_jasmine.gif b/14111-h/images/pg3_jasmine.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dca0593 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg3_jasmine.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg3_knowledge.gif b/14111-h/images/pg3_knowledge.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5bd910 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg3_knowledge.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg3_sunshine.gif b/14111-h/images/pg3_sunshine.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28c117d --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg3_sunshine.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_advice.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_advice.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ea1470 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_advice.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_heisrisen.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_heisrisen.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2b2ec99 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_heisrisen.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson1.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson1.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2122e80 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson1.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson3.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson3.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2d0c70 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson3.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson4.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson4.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b1d60b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson4.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson5.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson5.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c14e97c --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_lesson5.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/pg4_mothers.gif b/14111-h/images/pg4_mothers.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..abca0ad --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/pg4_mothers.gif diff --git a/14111-h/images/title.jpg b/14111-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd1b11f --- /dev/null +++ b/14111-h/images/title.jpg |
