The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1886-04-14

smoke and fire, crying: Mother where are
you?, and. never came out. our hearts APP
plauded that young man. But how lew OF
rs have the Christlike spirit-a willingness
to suffer for others. A rough teacher in a
school called upon poor, haff-starved lad,
who had offended against the laws of the
school, and said Take off your coat di-
rectly, SIR" The boy refused to take it of.
Whereupon the teacher said again: Take
off your coat, sir" as he swung the whip
through the air. The boy refused. 1t was
not because he was afraid OF the lash-he
was used TO that at home-but it was from
shame, he had no undergarment, and at the
third command be pulled slowly of his coat,
there went a sob through the school. They
saw then why he aid not want to remove his
coat, and they saw the shoulder blades bad
almost cut through the skin, and stout,
healthy boy rose up and went to the teacher
OF the school and said: "0h, sir, please don't
hurt this poor fellow; whip me; see, he's
nothing but poor chap; don't hurt hirn,
he's poor; whip me-" WELL" said the
teacher: "It's going to be severe whipping;
1 am willing to take you as a substitute"
We'll" said the boy: 81 don't care; you
whip me, if you will let this poor fellow CO."
The stout healthy boy took the scourging
without an outcry. "Braye" says every
man-"Bravo!" How many of us are willing
to take the scourging, and the suffering, and
the toll, and the anxiety for other people?
Beautiful thing to admire, but how little we
have of that spirit God give Us that self
denying spirit, so that whether we are in
humble spheres or in conspicuous Spheres
we may perform our whole duty-for this
struggle will soon be over.
One of the most
AFFECTING "REMINISCENCES
OF my mother is my remembrance of her as
a Christian housekeeper She worked very
hand, and when we would come in from
summer play, and sit down at the table at
noon, | remember how she used to come in
with beads of Precipitation along the line of
gray hair, and how sometimes she would sit
down at the table, and put her head against
her wrinkled hand and say; well, the fact
is, I'm TOO tired to eat Long after she
might have delegated this duty to others,
she would not be satisfied unless she at
tended to the matter herself. In fact, we all
preferred to have her do So for somehow
things tasted better when she prepared them.
Some time ago in an express train, | shot
past that old homestead. 1 looked out of
the window and tried to peep through the
darkness. While l was doing so, one of my
old schoolmates, whom 1 had not seen for
many years, tapped me on the shoulder, and
said: "De Witt, see you are'loOking out
at the scenes of your boyhood. 80, yes'
i replied, 81 was looking out at the old place
where nay mother lived and died" That
night in the cars, the whole scene came
back TO me. There was the country home.
There was the MONDAY table. There was
the children on either side of the table,
most of them gone never to come back. At
one end of the table, my father, with a
smile that meyer left his countenance even
when he lay in his coffin. 1t Wa an eghty-six
years smile-not the smile of nomination,
but of Christian courage and Christian hope
At the other end of the table was beautiful
benignant, hard-working, aged Christian
hOuSekeeper, my mother. She was very
tired. ! am glad she has so good place to
rest in. blessed are the dead that die in
the Lord; they rest from their labors, and
their works do follow them