praise." The resident youthful workers were called "Busy Bees."

Sweet society, precious children, your loving hearts and deft fingers
distilled the nectar and painted the finest flowers in the fabric of this
history,--even its centre-piece,--Mother's Room in The First Church of
Christ, Scientist, in Boston. The children are destined to witness results
which will eclipse Oriental dreams. They belong to the twentieth century.
By juvenile aid, into the building fund have come $4,460.[B] Ah, children,
you are the bulwarks of freedom, the cement of society, the hope of our
race!

Brothers of the Christian Science Board of Directors, when your tireless
tasks are done--well done--no Delphian lyre could break the full chords of
such a rest. May the altar you have built never be shattered in our hearts,
but justice, mercy, and love kindle perpetually its fires.

It was well that the brother whose appliances warm this house, warmed also
our perishless hope, and nerved its grand fulfilment. Woman, true to her
instinct, came to the rescue as sunshine from the clouds; so, when man
quibbled over an architectural exigency, a woman climbed with feet and
hands to the top of the tower, and helped settle the subject.

After the loss of our late lamented pastor, Rev. D.A. Easton, the church
services were maintained by excellent sermons from the editor of _The
Christian Science Journal_ (who, with his better half, is a very whole
man), together with the Sunday School giving this flock "drink from the
river of His pleasures." O glorious hope and blessed assurance, "it is your
Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." Christians rejoice in
secret, they have a bounty hidden from the world. Self-forgetfulness,
purity, and love are treasures untold--constant prayers, prophecies, and