THE ORPHANS’ FRIEND. Wednesday, June 14, 1S76. BOYS’ AND GIRLS’ DEPARTMENT. I.EAKX A EITTEE EVERY DAY. Tiny steeds make boundless harvests, Drops of rain compose the showoi'S, Seconds make the flying minutes, And the minutes make the hours. Let us hasten then and catch them As they ])ass us on the way. And witli honest, true endf^avor, TiCarn a little every day. Let us read some striking passage, Cull a verse from every page; Hero a line and there a sentence, ’Gfainst the lonely time of age. At our work or by the wayside, While the sun shines making hay, Thus we may, by help of study, Learn a little every day. LITTLE FOXES. Some years ago I read a book for grown people called “Little Foxes,” which I don’t suppose many of you ever read. But I think children as well as grown people have a great deal to do with these same troublesome lit tle animals that “spoil the vines,” and I mean to show to you, as the little book showed me, wh.it some them are called, and what is some of the mischief they do. Then, whenever you come across them, you will know them at once, and can set as many traps for them as you please. I suppose of course you have seen foxes, and have heard peo ple tell about the naught}' things they do. But if you had never heal'd these stories of plundering chicken roosts, you would think, to look in their faces, that they were the meekest, gentlest, most kind-hearted little creatures in the world. I have no doubt -v'ou have heard of tlie little fox who fancied the grapes must be sour because they were too high for him to reach, but did you ever read in the Bible of foxes who really reached the grapes, and spoiled them too ? There is a verse in the “Song of Solomon” which reads in this way : “Take us the foxes, the lit tle foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes.” Noiv of course you think that Sol omon meant real, living “little foxes,” and real, growing “tender grapes,” do you not f Perhaps he did, but I think underneath this meaning—as the book showed me—he had a deeper and better one. And little children as well as children who are older, have a deal to do with these same lit- ■d.e foxes who “spoil the vines,” and eat up the “tender grapes.” Lid you ever see a little boy very content on some wonderful story-book, quite hidden away perhaps, in an easy chair, with his feet on the fender, and no eyes or ears for anything but the story ! His mother says: “Johnnie, won’t you run around to the store and get me a spool of thread ? Johnnie heaves a long sigh, and keeps right on with his read ing. “Johnnie, my son, don’t you hoar ?” “Oh! rna,” says Johnnie, ‘can’t you make that thread do f I’m so tired, and ‘Thomas’ is just go ing to be shipwrecked.” Mother sighs and wonders why Johnny can’t be more obliging; and unless she speaks again in two minutes he has forgotten all about it. Do you see how the little fox “Uawillinguess” is spoiling all Johiiuio’s “tender grapes” ot obe dience and love I If ho had put his book by, ris en in tlie midst of that wonderful ship-wreck, long enough to do that little deed ot kindness for his mother, how much more he would have enjoyed the- story, and his warm corner when he came back to them ; and how much more comfort his mother would have had in her boy. I think you little ones don’t quite understand, how we who are older, feel our hearts warming towards you with love and admi ration, when we hear }'ou say to one and another “Oh I let ma do that for yon,” or “What is it you wanted I I’ll run up stairs for it at once.” This is a very small fox, yon think, but oh I how he grows and tlirives upon grapes I Then there’s little fox ‘Wait-a- while.’ Do you think you ever heard of him before ? He gets at a good many vines, and spoils more tender grapes . than you would suppose. lie is such a well-looking little fox in the face, with very innocent eyes, and seems to mean no manner of harm. But all the time he is en feebling- our wills, overturning our resolutions, and working a great deal of harm. This iiarm- less-looking fox is very greedy indeed. “Jenn}r, you must put away your hat and sacque,” says grand ma, ‘don’t leave them lying about, my dear.’ Jenny has just come home from school, and is busy cutting a dress for her doll—very busy, indeed. ‘Yes, grandma,’ she answers, ‘I am going to put them away in a minute.’ The minute passes and the half hour too, very likely—the dress is cut and almost fashioned. ‘Jenny,’says Grandma, coi-ning into the room again, ‘your things are lying there still.’ .‘Oh ! I forgot grandma ; just wait till I put in these last few stitches.’ And after a while grandma, who is a little too indulgent, qui etly carries off the hat and sacque and hangs them up herself. ‘Jenny,’ says mother, coming in presently from a sewing-meeting, ‘are your lessons learned my lit tle girl!’ ‘Oh ! ma. I’m going to leai'ii them after sujjper; it’s a great deal nicer.’ Mother says nothing, having weightier cares on her mind, and after supper tired little Jenny falls asleep on the sofa, and is sent np early to bed. Slie com forts herself with the thought that she will get up early in the morii- ing, and have plenty time for study before breakfast, which she tliinks is really the best plan, for one feels so much fresher in the morning. But alas ! mother calls a great many times, and the break fast bell rings before this sleepy little girl can summon resolu tions to jump out of bed, and hur ry on her clothes. Then with no word of prayer to help her through the day, she goes down to a cold breakfast, and begs to have aii excuse for the history lesson, that little fox ‘Wait-a-while’ has kept her from learning. This is a very mischievous lit tle fox, for beginning with a few grapes, he climbs up to the large and beautiful bunches, and if he is not caught will likely be the cause of very great sorrow and ruin. and grows like Jack’s wonderful fairy bean-stalk, until he is no longer a little fox, but goes about like a great -wild beast, preying on far choicer things than grapes. At first, however, he is a little fellow, and he rather charms and amuses us sometimes. Take the very baby brother, who only creeps about on the floor and laughs at you ; who gets into all manner of mischief; who would put Ins hand in the fire if he could reach it, and tips over mama’s work-basket a dozen times a day. You see him put up his pretty lips, and strike out with his fat little hand at sister, be cause she won’t let him help him self to a bowl of sugar ; and don’t you laugh and think it is the fun niest sight in tire world ? Such a wee, dainty fox as this can never do any harm ! But w:ait till he has grown a lit tle Tlien some day while you sit in a corner reading, you may hear the same little brother say to one of his school-mates : “Bob Jones, you’ve taken my new top, I left it just here on the table.” “Hum,” says Bob, “I haven’t any such thing; think I want your old tup-penny totum, John nie White f’ Johnnie flushes like a full blown popy. “Guess I know where I left my own top, and you’d best own up.” And Bob answers back, and Johnnie gets very angry and gives him a blow in the face per haps ; and it you, like a good sis ter, don’t stop them at once, no one knows where it would all end. So you see how the little fox has grown in a few years, an '.low it may grow in the years to come, unless Johnnie looks for God’s grace to strangle it. There are a great many other little foxes ; for I have only told you ot tinee, and if we began to count them on our fingers, per haps we should hardly know where to stop. Can any of }'ou tell me how to catch and kill them 1 Of course, the verv best time is to begin at once, and strangle them while they are lit tie, before they have grown so great and fierce as to master us entirely. But wo cannot kill them of ourselves. Asking tlie Lord to help us, we must pray and watch. If your little fox shows the least tip of his nose, put out all your sti'ongtli to push him down, or else he will spoil tlie tender grapes that are growing in }-oiu' hearts. Love i'oa’ ChkhSrcBi. There re is a little fox blacker than eitlier of those, a very bad looking, dangerous little fox, call ed “ Ill temper.” There is one strange and alarming thing about him, which is this; he never keeps little, very long-, but : grow s Among tlie amiable character istics of noted men none are more pleasing than the ease with which they attract, and the faculty with which they adapt themselves to children. The late Rev. Dr. James W. Alexander wits gifted with this power. The writer once saw him quiet, in a s'tago coacli,afretfureliiId who was very annoying to its mother, and not a httle irritating to the passengers. By a few words he attracted the child’s attention; a little incident, told in three or four short senten ces, quieted it; and then, for some half hour, child, mother and passengers were all interested, as the learned divine impirovised a story. In the days when Daniel Web ster and Henry Clay were rival leaders of the old Whig party, a writer quite accurately set forth the difiereiice between the tem peraments and characters. He said that if a child should meet Daniel Web.ster on the road, it would step aside, put its hands behind its back, and, with open mouth, stare at the great man. If, however, it should meet Henry Clay, its impulse would be to run up to him, catch him by the hand, and say, “Won’t you let me go with you, Mr. Clay f’ We recently met with an an ecdote which shows 'the love of Washington Irving for children. Its purports to liave been told by a lady in Sacramento Cal, as an incident of her early life : Travelling in a coach in a thinly-settled part of Alabama with her parents, she gave u ter- ance to the enthusiasm of a young- girl at tlie romantic scenery. Her father apologized to a fellow- passenger for her exuberance. The stranger answered,— “Do not check lier ; enthusiasm is a gift of God.” And then he began, in eloquent language, to tell of scenes he had gazed upon, and lands he had visited, dwell ing alternately on the majesty of the wilds ot the West, and the splendors of the highest civiliza tion. The girl’s fancy was all aflame, and she led the stranger to speak of foreign lands, and at last of Spain, until, forgetting himself, he spoke of scenes and narrated legends in words which disclosed to her his identity. Chipping her hands, she cried, “You are Washington Irving!” They made a covenant of friendship then which was close and warm to the day of the author’s death. THE Orphans’ Friend. A L!VE ANO LIVELY WEEKLY! EITERTAIIMG MB IN- STSFCTIYE TO THE YOUNG, A ZEALOUS FEIEND AND ADVOCATE ©F EHFCATION. THE GIAMT The Marabou crane is a native of West Africa. When full-grown it will often measure seven feet; the head is covered with white down thinly spread over it, and is not unlike that of a grey-headed old man. A young bird, about five feet high, was brought up tame, and given to a chief of the country, and being accustomed to be fed in the great hall, soon became fa miliar, duly attending that place at dinner-time, placing itself be hind its master’s chair, and often before the guests entered. Tlie servants were obliged to watcli it narrowly, and to defend tlie ])ro visions with switches ; but, not withstanding, it would often snatch something or otner off the table. Every thing is swallowed whole; and so wide is its tliroat, that a shin of beef broke asunder serves it but for two morsels. It has been known to swallow a leg of mutton of five or six pounds weight, a hare, and also a small fox. Do you a.sk of what service is this giant bird? Wo would an swer—In very hot countries, as Sierra Leone, in West Africa, all food soon becomes corrupt, and all dead birds, and animals, as well as all refuse, would quickly decay, and cause fever to the peo ple of those lands. But this bird acts as a sort of scavenger. Its great appetite makes it ready to devour anything that comes in its way, and its large bill is a capital scoop and shovel; so that in a short time it clears away that which, if left, would endanger hu man life. Every creature is made for some wise purpose, though at all times we may not be able to know wh}A PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, SU3SGR!PT!9NA!llD POSTAGE; OiVET ©STE BOLE.AK A YEAR OFFICE IN THE ORPHAN BUILDING, AT OXFORD. ABYEKTiSEIWENTS. Ten cents line for one insertion. Five cents a line each week for more than one and h’ss than twelve insertions. One colmnti, t’n-eo montlis, sixty dtillars. Half ooluinu, three montlis, forty dollars, Cjuarter column, three months, twenty dollars. Present circulation, fourteen hundred and forty papers each week. Address ORPHANS’ FRIEND, OXFORD, N. a T. 13. LYoX, JR. E. DAL13Y. E. H. LYON (Late of ‘‘Dalbi/ LYON, DALBY & CO., MA.YUFACTURERS OF THE DURHAM "AROMA PUFF,” SMo- j Ksaf« T®SIA€C«>. Dm-liain, N. C. Orders solicited—Ai^eiits wanted—Tobacco i^uaranteed. March 17th—-11-2m. SI. 4. MEAIIS & €€>., Never reproach a cliild with the misdeeds of its parents, no matter how deserving they may be of your censure. It is the very refinement of cruelty, and in the heart of the child there will spring hatred for you which will never be eradicated. SIANUFACTDRERS OF aEAmS’ BURH.4M BOOT AND SHOE POLISH. Warranted to excel all others, m' money Refunded. The only Blacking that will polish on oiled suidace. 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