Show THE The farther we drove into the farming country the other the more we became impressed with the belief that the day of the poor farmer is The modern with its gables' and broad has replaced the uninviting farm house of a quarter of a century Pretty bits of landscape from the Everything an of even The farmer has the comforts and many of the conveniences that the city man enjoys most of all he has what the city has the fresh air of the mountains and lie gets very close to He beholds the beauty of the sunrise and his eyes feast upon the glory of the great orb as it sinks behind his beloved The fresh scent of the soil is in his nostrils the greater of the year and the songs of the birds and the rippling of the streams make music for his He he reads and he He has an abundance for all his and he loves the world that he lives But does he know how well is We hailed one of our farming acquaintances who was standing by the wayside and put it up to him how he would like to leave the he indicating the green country all around him with a sweep of his It's the part of the the very And we believe Mahanoy Jt SILENT world is Ml of nil of the pain the bit-R m of the the js with the great festering Cry aloud to us for great throng of silent j the shadow of a groan out their plaint 1 ears but their the everyday walks of life wo those toil burdened We see a horse harnessed a load too great for his the impatient driver bis cruel whip or deals the idling brute a stinging It and reeking the horse li forth his last ounce of forward along the Jess road and passes from our Such sights are It ire never witness them with-it a teen stab of pain in our of 0 the thousands of of har- and horses which are tugging i tie burdens of the world every j. It must seem to some of m that one more one ire pressure against that raw shoulder must be all his master will require of But ahl no he feels the sting of the whip hears the oath dad and knows he must toil poor dumb God pity This is all very sad but with the brute there comes an hour when his master must rest and can no longer urge him on with the whip and then all his miseries fade out of his brute mind and he eats his fodder and rests but the silent sufferers of the human family are denied the forgetfulness enjoyed by the but day by waking or the worm dieth not and the fire is not The sorrow of a mother who proudly watched her noble son grow to manhood full of honor and then he went Her friends knew and knew knew her idolized boy had tripped on the snares of the they cast swift glances of pity at knowing how her mother heart was and how the bleeding heart-strings were sobbing out the hopeless is my wandering where is my boy Too proud of her too loyal to him to make she suffers in The wayward with all her fond dreams of a lover faithful and a splendid a a sweet babes to croon and lay their velvet fingers against her bosom almost bursting with the joy of all such dreams and hopes blasted and for she knows she is a lost and mined a toy for the base and a despised derelict on the swirling sch of Does any one hear the dead foetid moans that rot the very fibers of her She knows only too well there are none to the laugh of the heartless leer would be her only so she suffers to the bitter end in Among these silent sufferers are ill mated men and fettered by a marriage tie that is like a rope of vipers binding some women to a brutal or a noble spiritual man to a faithless and what's to be simply suffer in A sweet young maid meets the man of all the her They keep thy they One day he tells her old tells her she is all th world to She pours out in full measures the rich strong wine of her virgin mixes it with the cherished word of her king of men and it to the brim jeweled goblet of Time they are each climbs the beetling crags of life's mountain by varying up toward the eternal heights whore God's warm kiss will banish every tear and His glad welcome turn every silent sorrow to n song of Rut all the way over the plain and up the stumbling wounded still that full measure of love in the true woman's heart is undisturbed and Years thunder in awesome succession across the brim of the hairs become white in the snow line of the misty hills of but nor nor nor disappointment can ever overturn that cup of life's richest Rut the silent suffering of these sisters and lovers of unworthy Forbidden by the stern ethics of an apish they cannot speak out the ings of the soul but must wait and perhaps without a word of sometimes with the cold comfort of a Sile Strong's So men and women and brutes suffer in The very air is vibrant with the pain and misery of We are not sure that it will do any good to talk about but it may be a little consolation to some silent sufferer to know that someone else knows that the heart of the world is The best thing of all is to realize that He He who was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our yet He opened not His If your sorrow i's be- yond earthly lay it at his for he hath borne our F. L. in New |