Year: 1859

There you are, with your mouth pucker-
ed up again What's the mater Are
your friends all dead! No--well, have
You lost every cent you ever owned ? Now,
are your children sick? Is your husband
cross have you got the toothache or heart.
ache? Neither of these and still as cross
as young bear We wonder how your
family can endure your presence. Those
young hearts, whose sun you ought 10 be-
how you chill them with your frowns and
pettishness No wonder they long 10 get
out OF the house. And now you have
struck your little child because che would
not stop teasing" Friend, that blow fell
on his soul, and left an indelibe scar there
He will feel it long after he has forgotten il.
Many years from now, when your head is
laid low in the grave, that blow, given with
out cause-impatiently, angrily, will do its
work.


Why can't you be good natured? Were
you never so? Memory points TO the days
OF your girhood-seldom the lines of anger
disfgured your brow then. And the man
who won your love though: what happy
home she will make for me How sweet
it will be TO sit down by her side after the
cares Of the day are over! How beautiful
10 read for her pleasure-to be repaid by
smiles and kisses. And the home was
ready, and the bride establlshed-but she
proved unworthy Of the trust reposed in
her. Instead of meeting care with hear
iy laugh, and "get behind me Satan" you
worried and fretted, and began to tell every
little trouble to her husband. 1t was not
womanly; it betrayed weakness of both
head and mind! Imperceptibly its infu.
ence crept into his spirit, chilling it with a
worse chill than that of death, till it made a
shroud of iron for the disappointed heart,
and the charm of love and family and
home was gone.


"Wds once !"-how often these words drop
from your lips. "I was handsome once-I
was this, that, the other once" and why
not now? You yourself have willed your
own destiny-you have chosen the scold' Is
office; you must receive the scold's deserts
A little philosophy, few words breathed
TO heaven for patience-a new resolute
hope for 10 morrow if to-day be stormy-a
little selfdenial in telling petty crosses
great deal less selfishness-a desire TO make
homo sanctuary for yourself and ifttle
ones as well as your husband-and TO day
would have been happier, handsomer, and
more beloved.


Fretling sister in light affliction, let us
ask few plain questions. Does spirit oi
fault finding tighten your cares? If your
bread is burned to cinder, does it bring you
a good light, sweet loaf TO sit down and
worry about it ? If the baby is cross, does
it make him smile like an angel to shake
him almost out of existence? Il il rains
on washing day, will your anathemas hurry
out the sun until he stops right over your
clothes line g But if your quick hands
should turn 10 The -four barrel to mould an
other loaf-if you soothe the weeping babe
| with sweet words of mothers plying
love, if you devote your washing day to
some appropriate work, how smoothly care
will iron down his features, and become
your humble slave, instead of the tyrauni
cal master he would be.


1t is not too late yet. Surprise your hus
band with smile-it will be worth dol
lar to see his glance of astonishmeut; hole
the sailed water of thoushtfulness in you
mouth, that you may say nothing unpleas
ant, and the angel that has been lying pros
trale in his heart with folded wings will be
gin TO flutter, and lift itself heavenward ane
look out of his eyes with the love of the
olden time, and yoar home will yet be the
paradise you once coveted.