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YOL. 1.
GllEENSBORO, N. C., THURSDAY, DECEAIBER 30, 1875.
NO 16
POETRY.
There is Rest Beyond the River.
HYMN.
[By the Kev. W. A. Bris;iy Epiricopal clergy-
fiian. from the last word- of Stonewall .[ack*
son: ‘‘Let us ci>-s over the river and rc.st
under the shade of t!ie trees.”]
I.
There is rest beyond tlie river,
In th * pleasant palm-trees shade,
"Where the saints re leeined forever
-\re in spotless robe- arrayed.
"'.Yhcn the conflict here is ended,
An 1 th * barthi’s din is o’er,
Thci’C i- re-t beyon 1 the river,
On the sweet celestial shore.
II.
Tlu'U'. is rest b *yo!id the river,
Tliere wn sliall mret again;
We sh ill see the ;T.*at Life-giver,
I i the splendor of liis reign ;
Where thefiithfnl and tlte fearless,
And the tried and true of earth.
In a liapj)y lioine t>,nd ti‘arless,
Enter life’s immortal birth.
III.
There is rest beyond the river.
When the Christian soldier falls ;
When devote 1 frien-dsinii.-t sever,
And the last loud bugle calls;
And the ancient anthems ringing
Through the ever blessed land,
The beloved ones are singing
As around the throne they stand.
IV.
There is rest beyond the river;
We shall all cross ov*r there;
Faith triumphant fails us never—
Not a sorrow or a care.
Safely to the ha7en gliding,
Where our patient souls would be.
And in love’s own home abiding
Are the friends we long to see.
V
There is rest beyond the river;
Let us cross into the ligiit—
To tiiegv>lden dawn of morning,
Where there comes no shade of night;
^Vherethe dear hands wc liave folded,
And tiic fond eyes sadly closed,
In tlie marble features moulded
Are ill perfect life disclosed.
VI
There is rest beyond the river—
O’er its deep and solemn flow—
Where the saints in glory gather
And OUT heart's dear jewels go.
Let us cross the silent river.
Sweet in I’aradise to rest;
Safe to part no more forever.
Where the pure in heart are blest.
A Christmas Story.
“I can’t-, stand it any longer, Jane, I’ll
go out, and perhaps something -will turn
up for us.”
“It’s a cold night, Robert.”
“Cold, yes. But it’s not much colder
out than in. It would have been much
better for you if you had married John
Tremain,” he said, bitteily.
•‘Don't say that, Robert; I've never
j-egretted my choice.”
"Not even when there is not a loaf of
bread in the house for you and the chil-
.dren ?”
"Not even now, Robert. Don’t be
discouraged. God has not forsaken us.
Perhaps this Christmas eve the tide will
turn; better days may dawn upon us
,to-morrow.”
Robert Brice shook his head despond-
ingly.
“You are more hopeful than I, Jane.
Day after day I have been in search of
employment. I have called at fifty
places, only to receive the same answer
everywhere.”
Just then litt.e Jimmy, who had been
asleep, woke up.
“Mother. In pleaded, “won t you give
me a piece of bread ? I am so hungry.”
‘There is no bread, Jimmy, my dar
ling!" said the mother, with an aching
heart.
“When will there be some?” asked the
little child, piteou.sly.
Tear."’ came to the mothers eyes. She
knew not what to do.
“Jimmy, I’ll bring you some bread,”
said the father, hoarsely.
And he seized his hat and went to the
door. His wife, alarmed, laid her hand
upon his sleeve. She saw the look in his
eyes ; she feared to what step despera
tion might lead him.
“Remember, Robert,” she said solemn
ly, “it is bad to starve ; but there are
things that are worse.”
He shook off her hand but not roughly,
and, without a word, passed out.
Out in the cold st.eets! There would
be their only home next. For a brief
time longer he had the shelter of a cheer
less room in a cold lodging house, but the
rent would come due at the end of the
month, and he had nothing to meet it.
Robert Brice was a mechanic compe
tent and skillful. Three years since, he
lived in a country village where his ex
penses were moderats, and he found no
difficulty in meeting them. But in an
evil hour he grew tir»d of his village
home and removed to the city Here he
vainly hoped to do better. For a while
he met with very good success ; but he
found the lodging house in which he had
to live a poor substitute for the neat
cottage he occupied in the country. He
saw his mistake, but was too proud to go
back, although it was his wife's desire
they should do so.
But a time of great depression came,
and with it a suspension of business en
terprise. Work ceased for Robert Brice
and many others. If he had been in his
old home, he could have turned his hand
to something else, and, at the worst,
borrowed of his neighbors till better
times.
So day bv da}' he went out to seek
work, only to return disapoiuted. If he
had been alone he could have got on
some way; but it was a sore trial to
come to the cheerless room and his pale
wife and hungry children, with no relief
to offer them.
When ou that Christmas eve Robert
Bi ice went into the streets, he hardly
knew how he was going to redeem the
promise he liad made little Jimmy. He
was absolutely penniless, and had been
so for three days. There was nothing
that he -was likely to find to do that
night.
“I will pawn my coat,” he said. “I
cannot see my wife and children starve.”
It was a well worn coat, and that win
ter night he needed something more to
keep him warm. Weakened by enforced
farting, he was more sensitive to the cold,
and shivered as he walked along the
pavement.
“Yes,’’ he he said, “my coat must go.
I know not how I shall get on without it,
but I ernnot see the ofiildreri starve be
fore my eyes.”
He was not in general an envious
man ; but when he saw the sleek, well
fed citizens, buttoned up to the throat in
warm overcoats, come out of biiiliantly
lighted shops, provided with presents for
happy children at home while his were
starving, he suffered some oitter
thought.s upon the inequality of fortune’s
gifts to come to his mind. Why should
they be so happy, while he was so mis
erable ?
There was a time, he remembered it
well, when he, too, suffered not the
Christmai eve to pass without buying
some litt.e gifts for Jimmy and Agnes.
How little he dreamed they should ever
want bread ?
There was one man, shorter than him
self, warmly clad, wno passed him with
his hands thrust deep in the pockets of
his overcoat. There was a pleasant
smile upon his face. He w’as, doubtless,
thinking of the happy circle at home.
Robert knew him to be a rich cabinet
maker and upholsterer, whose ample war*
hou.se he often passed. He had applied
to this man only two days before for em
ployment and been refused. It was,
perhaps, the thought of the wide differ-
; enoe between them, so far as outward
circumstances were, that led Robert to
follow him.
After .awhile- the tradesman, Mr.
Grimes, drew his handkerchief from his
pocket. As he did so, he did not per-
; ceiv* that bis pockethook came with it,
and fell on the pavement. He did not
i perceive it, but Robert did. Ills heart
leaped into his mouth, and a sudden
thought entered his mind. lie bent
quickly down and picked up the pocket-
book. He raised his eyes to see if the
j movement was noticed. It was not.
Mr. Grimes went on, unheeding his loss.
‘ This will buy bre-ad for my wife and
children,’’ thought Robert instantly.
A vision of the comfort which the
money -would bring the cheerJes.s room
! lighted up hia heart for an instant, but
then—for he was not dishonest—there
came another thought. The money was
not his, much as he wanted it,
“But I cannot see mv wife and chil«
dren starve,” he thought again. “If it
is wrong to keep the money, God will
pardon the offenie. He will understand
my motive.”
All this was sophistry, and he knew it.
In a moment he felt it to be so. There
were some things worse than starvation.
It was his wife who said this just before
he came out. Could he meet her gaze
when he returned with food so obtained.
“I’ve lived honest so far,” he thought:
“I won’t turn thief now,”
It was with an effort he Same to this
decision, for all the while there -was be
fore his eyes that vision of a c’neerless
home, and he could hear Jimmy vainly
asking for food. It was with an effort
that he stepped forward and placed his
hand on the tradesman’s shoulder, and
extended the hand that held the pocket-
book.
“Thank you'” sam Mr. Grimes, turn
ing round; “I had not perceived my
loss. I am much obliged to you.”
“You nave reason to be,” said Robert
m a low voice. “I was very near keep-
“That would have been dishonest,”
said Mr. Grimes, bis tone altering slight-
“Yes, it would ; but it is hard to be
honest when one is penniles.s, and his
wife and ciiildren without a crust.”
"iSurely you and your childien are not
in that condition ? ’ said the tradesman,
earnestly.
“Yes,” said Robert, “it is only too true.
For two months I have vaiuly sought for
work. I applied to you two days since.”
“I remember you now. I thought I
had seen you before. Y'ou still want
work.’’
‘ I should feel grateful for it.”
“My foreman left me yesterday. Will
you take his place at twenty-five dollars
a week ?’’
“Thankful, sir; I would be for half
that.’’
“Then come to-morrow morning, cr;
rather, as to morrow will be a holiday,
the day succeeding. Meantime, take
this for your present necessities.”
He drew from his pocket some notes,
and hatded them to Robert.
“Why, you have given me thirty dol
lars f’ said Robert, in amazement.
“I know it. The Pocket book con
tained five thousand dollars. But for
you, I should have lost the whole. I
wish you a merry Christmas.
“It will, iudeed, be a merry Christ
mas,” said Robert, with emotion. “Heav
en bless you, sir./ Good-night.”
“Good-night,”
Jennie waited for her husband in the
cold cheerless room which for a few days
longer she might call her home. An
hour passed ; there was a step on the
stairs—her husband’s It could not be,
for this wa.s a cheerful, elastic step, com
ing up two steps at a time. She looked
eagerly to the d.-ior. Y'es, it was he. The
door opened. Robert, radiant with jov,
entered with a basket full of substantial
provisions.
“Have you got some bread, father’
asked Jimmy hopefully.
“Yes, Jimmy some bread and meat
from a cook’.s shop ; hero’s a little tea an'd
sugar. Ther’s a few coals left; Let’s
have b bright firs and a comfortable meal,
please God, this shall be a merry Christ
mas.”
“How did it happen ?” “Tell me Rob
ert.”
So Robert told hia wife; and .soon a
bright fire lit up before the cheerless room
and there were four hearts that waited in
joyful hope for the dawn of a merry
Chhristmas day.
The next week they moved id better
rooms. They have never sifice known
what it is to want. Robert found a firm
friend in Mr. Grimes, and has an account
in the savings bank, and has reason to re
member, with a grateful heart, God’s
goodness oQ the Christmas eVe.
ft E f!
ill
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