HIS A "STRANGE" PREACHER. [IS name was Strange. Many will think his conduct was strange also. He was a zealous preacher, and a sweet singer. Nothing gave him so much pleasure as to go about the country preaching and singing. A benevolent gentleman, well off in worldly goods, desiring to make him and his family comfortable in their declining years, generously presented him a title-deed for three hundred and twenty acres of land. Strange accepted the donation with thankfulness, and went on his way, preaching and singing as he went. But after a few months he returned, and requested his generous friend to take the title-deed. Surprised at the re quest, the gentleman inquired "Is there any flaw in it?" "Not the slightest." "Is not the land good?" "First rate." "Isn't it healthy ?" "None more so.' Why, then, do you wish me to take it back? It will be a comfortable home for you when you grow old, and something for your wife and children, if you should be taken away." 66 Why, I'll tell you. Ever since, I've lost my enjoyment for singing. I can't sing my favorite hymr with a good conscience any longer. 66 This: "What is that?" "No foot of land do I possess, Nor cottage in the wilderness, I dwell awhile in tents below, Yonder's my house and portion fair, My treasures and my heart are there, And my abiding home.' "There!" said Strange, "I'd rather sing that hymn than own America. I'd trust the Lord to take care of my wife and children." He continued singing and preaching, and preaching and singing; and the Lord, said the lecturer, did take care of him, and his shildren after him. NOTHING is more easy than to grow rich. It is only to trust nobody, befriend none; to heap interest upon interest, cent upon cent; to destroy all the finer feelings of nature and be rendered mean, miserable, and be despised for some twenty or thirty years, and riches will come as sure as disease, disappointment, and a miserable death. FARMER'S BOYS. Our in every tempest, Wind, and storm, and hail; In the shady wood, Letting in the sunlight Where the tall oaks stood. Every fitting moment, Each skillful hand employs Bless me! were there ever Things like farmers' boys? Though the palm be callous, And the open brow Wrought by evil hours, For that heart keeps wholesome, At the merry husking, Blush with conscious bliss, At the love-word whispered, ADDRESS TO LAKE ERY. Mity stream. How your bosom swells and pants, But you're stopt. Doesn't that keep you respectable, and put Straps on your pants. Don't that stick in your crop. Didn't they give you "piles" when they put that there. Why don't you try to fill up the canal, I should think you would catch cold bein made Of such damp stuff. Who are you. any how? What's going to come of you? You're found out- That's it! You needn't be uppish cause you're THE MERRY HEART "TIs well to have a merry heart, If life but brings us happiness, What's hard to buy, though rich ones try There's beauty in the merry heart, It shows the heart's an honest heart, And makes the cheek less sorrow speak, The sun may shroud itself in cloud, t finds a spark to cheer the dark, Then laugh away, let others say Whate'er they will of mirth; Who laughs the most may truly boast |