The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy, all bright;
By’n by hard times comes a-knockin’ at the door—­
Then, my old Kentucky home, good night.

On her finishing the first verse the mocking bird descended to a lower branch.  The feathery songster drew his head to one side and appeared to be completely enraptured at the wonderful voice of the young singer.  When the last note died away upon the air, her fond brother sang in deep bass voice: 

Weep no more, my lady; oh, weep no more to-day,
Well sing one song for the old Kentucky home,
For our old Kentucky home far away.

A few more days for to tote the weary load,
No matter, ’twill never be light;
A few more days till we totter on the road—­
Then, my old Kentucky home, good night.

The negroes had laid down their hoes and rakes; the little tots had placed themselves behind the large, sheltering trees, while the old black women were peeping around the corner of the house.  The faithful old house dog never took his eyes off the young singers.  Everything was still; not even the stirring of the leaves seemed to break the wonderful silence.

Again the brother and sister took hold of the remaining notes, and sang in sweet accents: 

They hunt no more for the ’possum and the coon
On the meadow, the hill and the shore;
They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,
On the bench by the old cabin door.

The day goes by like a shadow o’er the heart,
With sorrow where all was delight: 
The time has come when the darkies have to part—­
Then, my old Kentucky home, good night.

The head must bow and the back will have to bend
Wherever the darkies may go;
A few more days and the trouble all will end
In the fields where the sugar cane grow.

Then weep no more, my lady; oh, weep no more to-day,
We’ll sing one song for the old Kentucky home,
For our old Kentucky home far away.

As the song was finished tears flowed down the old people’s cheeks; the children crept from their hiding place behind the trees, their faces wreathed in smiles.  The mocking bird and the thrush sought their home in the thicket, while the old house dog still lay basking in the sun.

Mrs. T.A.  Sherrard

Louisville Courier-Journal.

* * * * *

20

stew’ ard se’quel Gal’i lee ab lu’ tions in ter ces’ sion

THE FIRST MIRACLE OF JESUS.

In the first year of our Lord’s public life, St. John tells us in his gospel that “there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee, and the Mother of Jesus was there.  And Jesus also was invited to the marriage.”  Mary was invited to be one of the honored guests because she was, no doubt, an intimate friend of the family.  She preceded her Son to the wedding in order to lend her aid in the necessary preparations.