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in her classes at No. 1 Fifth Avenue many of the girls who are now the society matrons of the city. After teaching three generations of pupils, and when she was considerably more than seventy years old, she decided to give up her work.

Her old pupils determined to do something in her honor, something that would be a lasting tribute to her, and acting upon a suggestion from her, they determined to purchase a cottage in the country to be used as a rest-home for working girls during their summer vacations. That was how the "L. M. Green Cottage" was established.

Knowing that Arrity Hale was not in the best of circumstances, they approached her with an offer to buy her farm and establish her in it as matron. She eagerly accepted, and the plan was at once put in operation. Some of the members of the society were rather dubious about putting a woman over seventy years old in charge of a houseful of girls, but in a season or two this feeling had entirely disappeared. Mrs. Hale had no trouble at all.

Every girl who visited the Green Cottage left with a regret that she could not spend all her life there. (Text.)

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OLD, HOW TO GROW

Softly, oh, softly the years have swept by thee, Touching thee lightly with tenderest care; Sorrow and death they have often brought nigh thee, Yet have they left thee but beauty to wear. Growing old gracefully, Gracefully fair.

Far from the storms that are lashing the ocean, Nearer each day to that pleasant home-light; Far from the waves that are big with commotion, Under full sail and the harbor in sight; Growing old cheerfully, Cheerful and bright.

Past all the winds that were adverse and chilling, Past all the islands that lured thee to rest, Past all the currents that lured thee unwilling Far from thy course to the Land of the Blest; Growing old peacefully, Peaceful and blest.

Never a feeling of envy or sorrow When the bright faces of children are seen, Never a year from the young wouldst thou borrow— Thou dost remember what lieth between; Growing old willingly, Thankful, serene.

Rich in experience that angels might covet; Rich in a faith that has grown with thy years, Rich in a love that grew from and about it, Soothing thy sorrows and hushing thy fears; Growing old wealthily, Loving and dear.

Hearts at the sound of thy coming are lightened, Ready and willing thy hand to relieve; Many a face at thy kind word has brightened; "It is more blessed to give than receive." Growing old happily, Ceasing to grieve.

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OLD-TIME REVELS

Talk about dissipations, ye who have ever seen the old-fashioned sideboard! Did I not have an old relative who always, when visitors came, used to go up-stairs and take a drink through economical habits, not offering anything to his visitors? On the old-fashioned training-days the most sober men were apt to take a day to themselves. Many of the familiar drinks of to-day were unknown to them, but their hard cider, mint julep, metheglin, hot toddy and lemonade in which the lemon was not at all prominent, sometimes made lively work for the broad-*brimmed hats and silver knee-buckles. Talk of dissipating parties of to-day and keeping of late hours! Why, did they not have their "bees" and sausage-stuffings and tea-parties and dances, that for heartiness and uproar utterly eclipsed all the waltzes, lanciers, redowas and breakdowns of the nineteenth century, and they never went home till morning.—

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Old Truths—See.

OLD-YEAR MEMORIES

Let us forget the things that vext and tried us, The worrying things that caused our souls to fret; The hopes that, cherished long, were still denied us       Let us forget.