Morning journal and courier., 1886-04-02

I | young English woman eleven years ago. l They have five children, who dress in Flu ! ropeaps costume and can converse in Eng
 fish and Chinese.
 THE FINISHED FAMILY father and Grandmother In l From the Lewiston (Me.) Journal It is SoutheY, isn't it, who says in "The | Doctor" that household is never complete 1 unless it has as inmates kitten and child 1 not much past it's third birthdaya While we 1 cling to the kitten and the baby we feel that | the family is not yet finished We would | add to it grandmother.
 1 The pilgrim just beginning his journey is a curiosity. We long to know how the coun- l try strikes him, how he will meet the lions in the way, and whether he will fall prey to Giant Despair, but we also desire to learn how the lions have been conquered, how escape from Doubling Castle was effected
 and how roses werSmade to bloom on the stalk that had produced only thorns. The young fill us with visions of what is to be; the old alone can tell us what has been. An ticipation is pleasant companion and often l amuses.us, but experience gives wise ad- vice and an arm to lean upon when are in need of counsel and support.
 There is nobody like a comparatively young and lively grandsire or grandmother to fill in the family chinks. Grandfather roasts bones and compounds savory, hot
 messes, we'll peppered for the hens, ,and keeps
 them laying all winter when the neighbors
 are stirring spoonful of snow into cakes in
 place of eggs. He keeps the woodbox we'll
 filled with the incest of kindlings and driest
 of wood, and never forgets to wind the clock.
 He oils the creaking door hinges and rusty
 locks, replaces the tack that has worked out
 of the carpet, and soldiers the pinhole that
 has impudently appeared in the new tin
 pail. He pares apples and brings the rind
 off in one unbroken, red curl for the little
 ones to fling over their shoulders to form queer, misshapen capital letters; nobody can coax corn to pop into such white flakes
 as grandpa, and nobody else can so mend toys, direct the boys about training the ''yellings" or tunneling through the deep snow drift at the foot of the hill. If COW in the neighborhood is sick or sheep refuses to own her lamb, grandfather is sent for, and he knows sure remedy. He has for gotten more than all the neighborhood know to-day, and yet remembers more than all | they ever knew.
 And what is there that grandmother can not do?' She is always in order to see com pany and never at loss for something to | say. She is ready to take the baby when l nobody else can give him attention; she l binds up bruised fingers with soft rags and l wounded hearts with tender words, kisses | and stray peppermint from the depths Of l her pocket or mysterious little box which l she takes down from high shelf in some | cupboard. She keeps the thin places in the | stockings and mittens alarmed before they be- ! come real holes, and her wise counsel and | soothing words prevent many holes in the peace of the family and neighborhood. She 1 has great stores of supplies for everybody 1 far and near. She never forgets where her 1 sage andsssummer savory ands catnip are, and l her hoarhound candy and thoroughwort syrup are so delicious that every coughing child for miles about considers himself in l luck when he gets a chance to take them. Grandmother has weathered the storm | tossed sea of retribution and gotten into the | peaceful harbor of forgiveness. Childhood 1 is infinitely more tender in her sight than it | is to father or mother, and what are deliber-
 ate wanderings out of the way in their eyes 1 but involuntary slips of the untried feet to her. Grandmother knows that the hasty | word or the unrelenting penalty of to-day ! may gnaw forever at the heart of the speaker i and infiictor. An, how much grandmother knows!
 1 There is never snow storm but that grad | father or grandmother remembers worse | one away back in the fabulous times of 30, 40 or50 years ago. No late spring or early autumn frosts surprise them, for they know by long experience that the promises of seed | time and harvest are Sure
 They are better than town histories, for l they furnish not only facts but illustrations. They are versed in genealogies When 8 western paper comes home with marked item telling of the success some boy or girl is achieving 2,000 miles away, grandfather
 and grandmother will tell you whether the l germ of that success came from the Smith or Jones side of the house-the Smiths
 natural aptitude or the Jones' energy. When people wonder why young Black, with his
 good home, went down hill, the old people
 can put finger on the barrel of hard cider
 that was on tap in his grandfather's cellar
 the year round and show how the sins of
 man are visited upon those who follow him. They remember in what year Ablathar Per kns was born and whom Eliphalet Ross
 married for his first wife. They know that Dr. Runners second wife was Rowe and
 not a Springer, and that she belonged to the Miles Rowes in Epson, and not to the Euse-
 bius Rowe family in Sheffield.
 When somebody comes home after an ab- sence of generation in Australia he finds nobody so delightful as grandfather and grandmother. The younger people have left pies as unhealthful, but grandmother assures them grimly that her "doughnut pot hadn't been empty nor pie missin' from her table a single meal for 90 years, and she haint afraid to set herself beside the woman O nowadays nor the ten men and women they that cali her mother beside any children she knows of a-growin' up." She has no need to l be ashamed when she looks back on her l work, or to fear for her reward in the fut- ure. Neither grandfather nor grandmother spared themselves. Their hands grew hard for us. They made roads, they cleared fields, they invented and improved that we might enjoy, and we are entered into the fruits of their labors.
 The old folks 'pows" are white and so
 are their hearts. They have served God
 and their country for many years, and every
 day of life is now but mellowing their
 hearts and adding to the flavor of the wine
 of kindliness that flows in their veins. They
 have lived both long and we'll. They have
 blessed their fellows and now may heaven,
 as it has always done bless them. How
 we repay them for what they have done for
 usa We must ''pass it along'' to those who
 shall follow us as we have followed them.
 Lenten Incident.
 From the Brooklyn Eagle
 An elevated train stopped at the Twenty
 third street station on the Sixth avenue road
 yesterday afternoon, and richly dressed
 young woman stepped aboard, and moved
 forward to the only vacant seat in the car.
 She sank languidly into it, folded her hands
 on her lap, pursed her lips and eyes into
 sort of pained and reminiscent look, and
 became lost, apparently, to her surroundings.
 She held prayer book in her gloved hands.
 Just before the car stopped at Thirty first
 street she careened over slightly to one side,
 and thrust her hand into the folds of her
 dress. She tugged petulantly at something
 for moment, and then yanked out small