And now about my father, writes the Rev. Robert Oollyer, D. D. , in The Ladies' Home Journal. I think still he was as good a smith as I have ever known, a man who would forgo no lie in iron or steel, with soft, steai brown eyes, strong and shie'vyy arms to labor and never sick a day I can remember, ahvays at his work until he feil dead thjit rl;iy üiili the 'i his hand. BíackaJnithñ, 1 hink, areusuallysilont rueu. The olcl Beeehers were, as I havo heaid, who were of this craft, silent men who leit, the pent tip speech to their sous aud grandsons. This was my father alao. He was a silont man, while both fathei' and mothoi1 we:1:1 ns free from contagióos and iufectioiis as the sound oaks are and the stars, so that. the microbes, vrhen they carne iu the dreadful form of fevers, fouud nothing in thein for p:oy.