Now the visitors of the evening were arriv proud Indian parents, roly-poly brown baby brot and sisters, American friends, and a few cur Mexicans. The exercises were held on the well-lighted po of the school. The visitors sat on chairs and bend in the yard. José's valedictory was splendid. night he was able to put into it the heart that teachers had feared it would lack. At the close his address he told in a few simple words how had found the Lord, and of how, if the missionar thought him fit for such service, he intended to spe his whole life in giving the Gospel to his people. At the close came the tableaux. These were r on the porch, but out in the yard, to give the natur setting. And such scenes as were portrayed:-t first Indians welcoming Columbus, the Indians brin ing corn, pumpkins, and turkeys to the Pilgrim col nists for the first Thanksgiving celebration, Poc hontas saving the life of Captain John Smith; almo every good Indian prominent in American histor had his place. The closing scene planned was the representatio of a famous painting, "The Indian Lovers." At th last moment in shifting some heavy scenes, Juan, th young man who had one of the leading parts in this tableau, sprained his ankle too badly to take his part José, to the astonishment of all, volunteered to take the place. The young Indian girl of the tableau was Therese, the sweet singer whose tender voice had brought the Christ to José's heart-the girl whom he loved. "You must appear to speak a few words just before the curtain falls," the teacher had said. One thought alone filled Therese's heart. Of that she spoke. "I am so glad," she whispered, "so glad you love Him too.” Standing half turned from the audience, José had become oblivious to his surroundings. He knew only that he was with Therese. He remembered the parting that must come in a few hours, when he would return to the Papagoes, and she would go with her father to her Pima people. "Best of all in heaven and on earth," he said, "I love the Lord Jesus. And after that," he said, “best of all on earth I love Therese." "I never knew it," murmured Therese. "And you, Therese?" urged José. Therese smiled, and then with trembling lips she said, "Best of all in heaven and on earth I, too, love the Lord Jesus. And after that I love you, José Hidalgo." Some who were looking very closely thought they saw José kiss Therese just as the curtain fell. "That was simply perfect,” said an enthusiastic American visitor: "I never saw such perfect acting." "It was perfect," agreed a teacher; "but it wasn't acting." Among the Papago people José and Therese have been living for some years now, happy in giving their lives in the service of Him who loved us all and gave Himself for us, regardless of whether our skins be white or brown in colour. God grant to each of us the charm of the voi the Master that we may win the world to him we have ears to hear, his voice will speak to us of all the experiences of life, quickening within souls the spiritual fervour that will make of ead us a divine transformer to convey the heavenly tricity to other souls. Luciel Doris Cress sings beautiful imagery how to spiritually alert ears seasons and all nature may bring to us his inspi voice: "Out of the still dawn, when first the shadows rise, A message comes as clear and strong As sounded word could be, And out of the stillness of the dawn "Out of the bright noon, when brilliant sunshine glea And makes the world a mellow land of gold, When man is at his labour and the world with busin "Out of the sweet sunset, when glorious shades of gol And pink and purple touch the evening sky, When a picture lies before me, so wondrous to behold, That I could look and be content to die, "Out of the calm night, when wide-awake I lie To think and dream of all His wonders mean, When the light of myriad worlds glows bright against th UNEXPLORED SPIRITUAL HARMON "Things which eye saw not, and ear heard not, and entered not into the heart of man, whatsoever thin prepared for them that love him. But unto us God r them through the Spirit."-1 Cor. 2:9, 10. I HAVE been greatly impressed with a re able article in the Atlantic Monthly e "Unexplored Harmonies," by Alida Ch in which she brings out the fact that though shapes our lives by many subtle forces: by c and sound, by light and shadow and silence, y senses are dulled by repetition, and much beaut we might see and hear often eludes us. Bu brings out the far more interesting fact that it only by invisible colours and inaudible sounds nature is constantly affecting our lives. She as us that when we are soothed in the peaceful sti of the woods, it is not only by the absence of cord, but also by silent harmonies actively at w that often what seems to be empty silence is r deep-lying music, as harmonious as the swee summer fields on a mountainside; that our eyes our ears are as windows built at the end of tun through which we reach to the gardens of sound colour beyond. But she proves to us that for all light and visible colour it is possible for us to en for all the sweet sounds we can hear, there is va |