While walking he saw at some distance a group of men busily engaged in building a breastwork of logs. It was a difficult task and as Washington came near he could see they were trying to raise a very heavy log. The corporal cried out, "All ready! Lift!" The men began lifting with all their might, but it seemed too heavy for them, yet the corporal began calling, "Up with it, men! Up with it!" But did not put a hand to it himself.

The men kept on lifting and had it almost in place, but not the strength to put it farther and Washington could see that soon it must fall unless some one gave them a little help; so he ran up and with his strong arms began to lift. Soon the log was upon the breastwork. The men thanked the tall stranger for his timely help and kindness, but the corporal only looked on and said nothing. Washington, wiping the perspiration from his face, turned to the corporal and asked why he did not help the men when the log came so near falling. "Sir," angrily replied the corporal, "don't you see that I am the corporal?" "Yes, I see that," quietly replied Washington.

"Well sir, I do not help!" said the much angry corporal.

"So I learned," replied Washington, and unbuttoning his overcoat that the enraged corporal might see his uniform, he said, "I am the general; and the next time

you have a log too heavy for your men to lift, send for me."

The confused corporal turned red, and then white, as he realized that it was General Washington who had helped his men, and to whom he had been so pompous. We hope the corporal learned a lesson of true great

True worth is in being, not seeming,-
In doing each day that goes by
Some little good-not in dreaming
Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in their blindness,
And spite of the fancies of youth,
There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.

We get back our mete as we measure

We cannot do wrong and feel right; Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure, For justice avenges each slight.

The air for the wing of the sparrow,
The bush for the robin and wren;
But alway the path that is narrow
And straight, for the children of men.

"Tis not in the pages of story
The heart of its ills to beguile,

Though he who makes courtship to Glory
Gives all that he hath for her smile.
For when from her heights he has won her,
Alas! it is only to prove

That nothing's so sacred as honor,
And nothing so loyal as love!

We cannot make bargains for blisses,
Nor catch them like fishes in nets;
And sometimes the thing our life misses
Helps more than the thing which it gets.

For good lieth not in pursuing,

Nor gaining of great nor of small,

But just in the doing; and doing

As we would be done by is all.

Through envy, through malice, through hating,
Against the world early and late,
No jot of our courage abating—

Our part is to work and to wait.
And slight is the sting of his trouble

Whose winnings are less than his worth;
For he who is honest is noble

Whatever his fortunes or birth.

While at the station the other day I had a little sermon preached in the way I like, and I'll repeat it for your benefit, because it taught me one of the lessons which we all should learn, and taught it in such a natural, simple way that no one could forget it.

It was a bleak, snowy day. The train was late, the ladies' room dark and smoky; and the dozen women, old and young, who sat waiting impatiently, all looked cross, low-spirited, or stupid. I felt all three, and thought, as I looked around, that my fellow-beings were a very unamiable, uninteresting set.

Just then a forlorn old woman, shaking with palsy, came in with a basket of wares for sale, and went about mutely offering them to the sitters. Nobody bought anything, and the poor old soul stood blinking at the door as if reluctant to go into the bitter storm again.

She turned presently and poked about the room as if trying to find something; and then a pale lady in black, who lay as if asleep on a sofa, opened her eyes, saw the old woman, and instantly asked in a kind tone, "Have you lost anything, ma'am?”

"No, dear, I'm looking for the heatin' place to have a warm 'fore I go out again. My eyes are poor, and I don't seem to find the furnace."

"Here it is;" and the lady led her to the steam radiator, placed a chair, and showed her how to warm her feet.

"Well, now, isn't that nice!" said the old woman, spreading her ragged mittens to dry. "Thank you, dear; this is comfortable, isn't it? I'm most froze today; bein' lame and not selling much makes me kind of downhearted."

The lady smiled, went to the counter, bought a cup