wrong, it is seldom anything else than the prophecy of a bad end. Have you any interest in knowing what became of these boys? They lived to be men. A few years ago I stood by the bedside of one of them, and saw him die fighting snakes and wild animals in the awfulness of delirium tremens. I saw him slam the door of time behind him with a curse on his lips. The other is now a convict for life in the Iowa State Prison. The dread I had when these boys were throwing me out over the water was not of physical suffering. The crown of my agony was in the wrong of the thing suffered at the hands of these young villains. A few notes will express the limit of physical pain and the dread of it; but a scale of notes, reaching from earth to perdition, can alone express the possible suffering of the spirit. How the world. changes! How life changes as a child emerges from the covert of the home, where it has never known anything but the forces that have been true, and steps into the edge of a world of buffet, heartless and full of deception and treachery! To have any experience in this world is to learn to doubt. Distrust becomes a part of the armor of protection to the successful. "Know your man before you trust him," is a wise business maxim. "And after that, keep your weather eye open," is the caution that any extensive business experience would add to it. The spirit of confidence in human forces in this world may be growing stronger, but experience with men puts in us the element of distrust, and we can not help it. To doubt, therefore, has value. Those who never doubt, those who insist on believing that all men are honest, usually get stranded in the stream of life. When it is known that you trust every man, about every other man you meet will be a confidence man. Distrust this world, and hold it at bay until you can take care of your own. Successful business men have largely developed the element of caution. Do not distrust God as you distrust men. There is no treachery in him. He will not cheat. He will not take short cuts. Children usually get their taste of the false. in life by tid-bits. They move out into it by way of little eye-openers and surprises. They get it in installments. I got the full measure of mine with my first experience. Through the years I have looked on that fact as something of a misfortune. Its pressure on me was too great at too early an age. It fell on me like a dull thud, and has left in me the traces of iron. The springs and modulations of my whole life have been dulled by it, so that on one hand, I am robbed of much enjoyment, and on the other I am too keenly susceptible to certain qualities of exquisite pain. The spirit of resistance toward those who oppose me has been intensified and too determined by it. It has left in me a shrinking feeling toward the surface antagonisms of life, and, unfortunately, it has helped to possess me with a coolness and a stoical indifference in the face of a danger that threatens death, which is certainly abnormal. At no other time since, when in imminent danger of death, have I felt the least excitement. I felt the spiritual tremor of death that day at the canallock, and I never expect to feel it again. Sorrow that made the reason drunk, and yet -POLLOK. "Extreme mind is close to extreme insanity." -PASCAL. "Since when have I shown signs of insanity?" "Great wit to madness nearly is allied." -CATO. -DRYDEN. /HILE we are under the head of the reflex WHILE power of circumstances on the character, I want to enter into another matter that influenced me greatly. It was the custom for the farmers about, to have extra help in the spring and summer seasons. One spring father hired a man for six months, "wet and dry." His name was Joe Coneer. He was a stalwart and mighty man, and he had in him a companionable and royal spirit. The first day at dinner I made friends with Joe. Father liked Joe. We all liked him. He always came to the scratch. He was honest with his work; and in every way he was a first-class farm-hand. He worked the six months, and only lost one half-day. The peculiarity about Joe was, that at times he was slightly crazy; not to a degree that it interfered with his work, but during the months of his stay among us his mental defection became more apparent. He would sometimes whistle a tune at the table, greatly always to my amusement. One time this performance occurred when we had strange company. Some days while at work he would wear his left pantleg rolled up above his knee, until he would. blister his leg in the sun. In the morning, when he went to feed the stock, he would always hop from the house to the stable on one foot. He would never think of doing such a thing at any other time. He had a mortal fear of snakes, and would carry a club to be ready for them. He would carry this club all day while binding wheat. He would lay it down while he tied the bundle, and take it up again when going on. Joe never kille a snake in his life. One day, while bind |