Tho Boy John

S. C. Kendall says some very true and suggestive things about " The Boy Johu" m tho April numbcr of Scribner's. We qnote as follows : John is young. His tastes are unformed. His foelings aro very far from being refined. In fact he is little groas in his syrnpathies; Every bone in his body aches for recroation, for play, fun, laughter. He does not care - ne has never been taught to care- what the fun is, if only it will-give relief to tho fidget that stings hnn. ïfot afc all reflned', Be finds the hunger of his nature coarsoly met- just as tuinted meat will fill the hunger of starving man - in the low revolry, Tile stories, unolean mirth of drinkingcellars and saloons. Tho boy does not discriminato very closcly, and to tho longing of hts crudè appetite the entertainment of these places is infinitely better than any he ever could find in that place he has been taught to speak of as home. For oating and sleeping and getting his clothes mendod, he feels that no place can be equal to a home. But for a good time,-, f-ór passing a dull evening hour, for learning something new, for words of cheer, for professions of Bympathy, for those genial ways which a boy does love, and which any boy bat a Uriah Heep must love, John will teil even the minister to his face that home is nothing to a street comerrors billiardroom with tho attachment of a beer-shop. Well, by and by, just bef ore tho clock strikes ten, the father wakes from his doze, tho spectacles falling and the paper sliding upon the floor, and looking round with a bewildered gaze, asks, "Where is John 'i " Where is he ? Why, for want of botter instruotion, he is out practicing our modern plan of training himself up in fho -Way he likes to go, having no thought that when he is old ho will care to depai-t from it. But the father who has inquired for his boy rubs his eyes, looks out into the darkness, and listens ; but he hoars him not. Ho wishes that his boy would not go out so of nighta ; but then ho does go out. He wondere that John cannot sit down at home other boys. "What other boys ? And then, with a very feeling remark that "If John doos not do better and become steady, he will inake a miserable shirk of liimself," the fatlier f oes to bed. The mother waits till hor oy comes. By and by he does como iny bis restlessness blown oft the uneasy fidgot of tbe early evening spent in relaxations which, of somo kind, a boy must havo, - and then at last the house is quiet. Sleep and rost prepare the household for another and evening like these. And when that other evening cornos, out goos the boy again ; and the fathei sgain wonders, and wishes that John would bo steady and stay at homo, and very feelingly predicts that "If he does not change his course, ho will very likoly come to a uviserablo end." But, good father, why-ehould yonrboy spend his evenings at home ? What is thero at home for him? What pleasant recreation, what happy plan for whiling away the hour, does he find inviting him therc, or that would invite any 'loy there. "What have you done to make homo attractive and winsome to him as JoJin'n homo ? He would like amusements 8uited fo his young, restless, brimming natufe ; ivow raueb. real thought and care did you ever gi-e hi-'scfaemes, devices, plans, efforts, with a view to meeting this paseion of his mind ? How much do you play with him, teil stories with him, talk with him of what you have done and seen, of what your father did and saw? What games, what sports, what effortsat skill with slate and peneil, with knife, saw and gimlet, have you devised for him, whilo your look and action were saying, "ïfy boy, I want you to love your home mcie than any other spot on earth ?" ïfee purgan lrgiïs