The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1874-05-03

honorable merchant "whose word was as
good as his bond" 81 would give fifty
Thousand dollars for your good name"
"Why SO 7" asked the other in some
&surprise.
"Becauss I could make a hundred thou
sand dollars out of it,"
The honorable character which was al
The bottom of the good name he cared moth
4 ing for it was only the reputation which
he could turn to account in money point
of view which he coveted.
But o good name cannot be bought with
silver. 1t, of all other possessions, must
be fairly earned. When it is possessed, 1t
ia better business capital than a great sum
ofmoney. 1t is capital any boy or girl
may secure. Honesty must be its found
alton, even in the smallest particulars.
When an employer says, "That is boy 1
can trust" he will always find himself in
demand, provided he joins with it indus
try. " The hand of the diligent maketh
1t seems hard at the time, maybe, this
ceaseless round of work, while other boys
are lounging about store steps, or playing
base ball. But the reward will come If
you are faithful. While loungers are
dragging out a miserable lifetime in pri-
walton and poverty, the hard working boy
lives at his ease, respected and honored.
Remember this, boys, if you desire to
make your way in the world. There is
nothing that can serve your purpose like
name for honesty and industry and you
will never acquire either if you lounge
ga good name is rather to be chosen than
great riches, and loving favor rather than
silver and gold" Print that text on your
heart, and carry it with you in all your
walks and ways.
A HINT TO MEDDLERS.
A little white rose bloomed all by her.
self, in q nook in the hedge.
"Ah !" cried the wind in passing, "what
pity you should be suffocated there ! 1
will blow hole in the hedge. and the
breeze shall find you through it !"
pray, sir, you will leave me as am,
breathe well enough" said the rose.
'sI know better" said the wind, and
rent the hedge as he passed on, and the
boys rushed through, and made her tremblc
with fear.
"You are cot we'll placed there" lie
said, as he came by again, will give you q
better berth than than"
beg You will leave me as 1 am,
like my place we'll enough, if it were not
for the gap goa made" said the rose.
But the wind would not listen J; he broke
her stem, and she fell to the ground.
ooh, you mustn't lie there !" he cried
"I will carry you to the spot that will
suit you exactly" -
"Nay, entreat you to let me lie and
fade in this pleasant grass" eaid the rose,
peseecningiyi ouI no cau8uG her up, anu
whirled her on few yards, when her
petals were scattered, and her leafess stem
was cast on the hedge.
elbow is this !" exclaimed the wind.
"How is it this is how it u.s." replied
the hedge; "there are some folks that
meddling in other folks affairs they think
nobody can be happy except in their way
and you are one of them, and this bare
stem is specimen of your work"
THE JUG OF TEARS.
There once lived a mother blessed with
one only child, little girl, whom she
bear her to be out CT her sight. But God |!
sent among the children of the village
where she lived sore sickness, which fell |
also upon this much-loved child. For |
three days and nights the mother wept |
and prayed by the bedside of her beloved |
daughter; and then God took the child to !
Himself.
powerful and unspeak able grief took |
possession of the bereaved mother. She
refused to eat or drink, and for three days |
wept without ceasing, and called continu-
ally upon her child. But during the third
night, as she TINS sat growing by the bed
whereon her daughter had died, uncon-
scious, from her excessive sorrow, of what
passed around Ler, the door of the room
was gently opened, and the mother raising
her eyes, saw her dead child standing be-
fore her. Clothed in an angels form, her
face beaming with the purity and know
ledge of Heaven, she looked sweetly at
her mother, and showed her an almost
overhowing jug which abe held carefully
In her hands.
ooh, my dear mother" che said, "weep
for me NO longer. See, in this jug are your
tears, collected by the angels Of mourning.
Weepest thou one tear more, the lug will
run over, and then l shall have no rest in
my grave, and no happiness in Heaven.
SO, as you love me, weep no more for
your child is happier far where she is than
earth or you could ever have made her.u
With these words the child disappeared
and the mother dried her eyes, and hence
orth wept no more,-that she might not
listurb the rest and peace of her beloved
hild.