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POETRY.
My nunt paused and sighed, andl family,. I b-asteued to 'pttaH backpays lived’ in ihecily, and seldom quirfed for her and seemed pained at jit from her hand,
Honuii ami \\itss
BX-M'AKV KILE -DALLAS.
Pol
vr.-nt thi-gay 4ork (tying,
rklci the blight ehawpajj
!v ih<! light of a daytth;-.: was
He fiiii-J np S tir gohieii again,
let the liisT?, 1 «i >rStfi t wonian^
‘•Woman, ileal- ivondn,” said U'a,
Empty your glass, uv darling.
. hi n 1 op arm21< liar sex with! me.’'
opurs
ithis-stfong hi
■ oftiwrtit his -stfong m-ovru fingers,
And lioldin«m tight a» in featv
And through the gat tie ring twilight
Her : ind . U .Jn his ear.
“Xe v. wo you drink, I implore on,
Uv all that you hold‘jivine,
Pledge a woman in tear-drops,
.1 lather bv far than in wine.
_ .t
...1-bread;
beloved *»m
Looks on ting vine when tis red;
!y the kisses (Armed to curses;
by n aisltnoro bitter than brine;
>y many a. sond heart broken,
l'ledge'no woman in wine.- i
•'thought I yaw a tear-drop glistening! the already -bail opened door to ih.eleume'do wn-except.to. ih.at.it was
,upon liet cheek; But-she-soon wentparlormid venture in- Bui TiasiYui Jktpi iu the best of order,.and neVef
on: jly started back; it was already oecu jstaid longer than one day and nig^tt!
Cordelia Howard soon became pied; and not wishing to intrude, Ijiiut a few. weeks after Cordelia re
tell the room without being oi.served, j turned. home,, we heard that Mr.,Fin-
and went to seek tny irieud in ibejiey was coming:down to spend.sever
gaidiiti; I -iiad stood but an •iii&tunxja! weeks, and the bouse keeper-on the
within the parlor door, but that short! far m bustled about from- morning till
space or time had served to impress! night to get. things in trim to receive
tne scene which met my eye indelibly j nim. He came at the appointed time,
upon my memory. Charles ‘Grovei quid the very next day we saw his
was seated-upon a sola near the win- carriage, drawn by the finest, glossi-
dow, wiirie on a low ottoman at his est horses, sweep past and stop at Mr.
-sut Cordelia, gazing up into his Howard’s gate, and after that we sel-
with a look ol such devou-d lovoldom passed that way without seeing
•denies* m her great dream, jbts carriage standing there, or his
hat I could no longer doubt!black Jiorsc pawing at the gate
her absence.
The wees fleWstviftly by, and as
was a sealed note, directed to Charles
i known and recognized as the belle
for miles around. I believe- she could
have counted her suitors by the doz-
|eu. But she rejected them all \yith
the same proud indifference that ev
er characterized her, and it soon be
came a fixed fact in the opinion of
her tnost intimate friends that she
was I waiting for a fortune. Maria
was, scarcely noticed in the presence
of her brilliant sister, and, as I have
said before, she was very reserved in
her manners, and none knew or lov-
ST
By liis'ohil
!oiif;ier haiijto w=41 ai-i i ■ ...
r j;' «» tve .ive-l all at-a party at Squire
j Jones’ one evening. Maria, brother
“AVliat lias wine brought to wciripji ?
Nothing but tears and pain.
It lias torn from her arms her over,
And proven her prayers in -ain;
A- v household gods, all s latteiv
Lie "led up in lhe vino
O, I pri. pledge no womar.
In the cii. e of so manr—wine.”
SE jECT M1SCELLMY.
THE LiTTbE BltOWN OTTAGE.
BY ITYIlA L. A1LIN.
Bo you know who mad to livo in
that little brown cot tap in the glen,
.Aunt Martha?”
I was spending a summer vacation
with this kind relative, and had of
ten paused in lojie rambles over
the hills a qualii^J
tage,*half buried iu verdure, and to
all appearance deserted, which had
excited all my girlish curiosity.
“Indeed I do,” my aunt answered,
as she drew a long sigh. “That hum
ble dwelling was once* the home of
one of my dearest, oai.iest friends,
Quite a little Romance)is connected
witn her history,: whitf I’ll tell you
some day, perhaps.” ,
“O please tell me jbout it now,
wont you, aunty?” I ecqxingly ask
ed, leaving my pleasaq: seat by the
window, and drawing a low stool to
her feet with a eltildliie impatience
and curiosity.
“Can’t you wait till to-morrow?”
she smilingly asked.
“To-morrow!—coulda’t think of it.
“Now’s the day and nuvTtie hour,
aunty dear.”
Clarence and) myself were cozily seat
ed in one cor per, chatting and laugh
ing as only stich light hearted happy
creatures can, when a young girl
came bounding towards us, and in
great glee, exclaimed:
“Charley Grover’s come! Charley
Grover’s here!” And having deliver
ed this joyful piece of intelligence,
she ran away again, followed by Clar
ence and I, eager to be among the
first to greet Charley Grover.
“But I suppose I must tell you
who thiji important personange was.
He was the son of our minister, who
tsed to live on the hill yonder. But
that’s not the house, child; it was
burned dow»years ago. Charley had
always been a favorite with old and
young. Ho was so brayeand hand
some, so full of fun and mischief, but
withal so sweet tenlpered and oblig-
that none could choose but love
fe
face n
and tj
eyes,
the time appointed for the bridal
ceremony approached, Cordelia grew
more wildly restlessand excited than
before. Frequently would we hear,
her pace the floor, of the room all
nigtt long; for the room I occupied
was separated from hers only by
a often
her sincerity-, ‘br.’accuse her
heart ot coldness oi want of feeling
> r |
“Things'went on this way some
time, and one day Maria told me,
One of the tiny white bands, vviiicn
him. Ho had been absent from our
. "due cirfcie idr the past four years,
1 lv 1 ' 1 havjng been pursuing the study of
law at Hartford, and veiy unexpect
edly had come back to us again. But
there ho stood, the centre of a gay
group which had collected around
him, bowing, smiling and shaking
hands; and 1 saw that though he
had grown taller, handsomer, more
manly, lie had brought back the
same winning smile, the same ro
guish twinkle in his saucy blue eye
that lie had carried away.
Welcome, Charley! welcome,
welcome, Charly !” was the cry of ev
ery tongue, and the language of every
heart, and that he was happy and
very glad to be with us all again was
very plainly to be seen.
‘There’ll soon be another con
quest for Cordelia,’ I laughingly said
to a young lady at my side, as I saw
liMi v i ... Ms look .of admiration, as hov tall
\\ cd it 1 must 1 nlist, i sapi^Aforiii gn?i<*i tko
dance.
“The young lady bit her lip with
vexation,
“Charley Grover is a person of
more sense,’ she answered, rather
bitterly, ‘than to be ensnared by mere
very confidentially, that they were
so many had Sighed in vain to obtain, to be married in four weeks. She
was held in the clasp of both Ins own, drew a deep sigh as she told me
while he was gazing iu r.qjt idolatry jl-his, aud I could not by the closest
upon the beautiful face before him 1 inquiries find out her real opinion in
Altogether, i: was a picture qjpres- regard t-> Mr. Fnley, except that she
sive of the most deep, heartfelt tie j thought him very, very different from
km. tint
first.’
into my
but my pies mttMr
And resigning her
keepiug, she bustled dway.
“It must be Jbout fweity years
ago,” she commenced,’resuming her
chair and knitting, “wren the How
ards first came among as. 1 on see, j q eau py_ Ho may admire, but he can
we, that is father s b.filly, then lived lievei . j,
on the farm down by th ■ mill, and
and right glad were w: all when old
Mr. Howard came dewit from Con
necticut and boug.it t-.i? atlq^eiit
farm, and told us his fi iuilv AWbld
hill, t
wasn’t so thickly settled then
bein'
so proud aud heartless a
move down in. the Ml, for the pG cf /LiiiHl. j
en as 5tlsji klo ok
“And so I thought then ; but when
towards the close of the evening
saw him led up to her by brother
;j Tom, to be presented, I changed my
T had never beforeseen Corde
so beautiful The excitement
now, by any means. Mell, the hfuse of a , meing bacl ] ( , n / a bright glow to
was built, that brown cottage c on ‘,J ler cheek; her clatk eyes seemed to
der, and one fine eveij ug m H | ya--j w;l ] ce Q, om their isual listless lan-
ly part of autumnthenamily a J uc \Igour, and a ni/ire firmly guarded
Nfv sisteif ale. heart than CharUy’sflight have been
to take possession.
I could scarce!-' wai
for themf o get
fairly settled, so anxious werefwc to
callxpon them aoid^find* ouj what
■<qH of neighborsTEeJ wereHifoH
it So one
f, your ino
subdued by thar brilliancy 7 . Yes,
liis heart was iotltj 1 saw that plainly
tqnougli. for thousiiil roguish twinkle
n , j of liis eye hadNgiveh place to a look
pleasaiiiiafteriiojn, iiu-1 0 .£ suc p pj ea ding, earnest tenderness,
■flier, and i walo.^1 ov ei j s b 0 uld not have been one bit
ha
w.
|o the new house.
J “Me all felt rather frigl
*first to think of i neouitcrii
ny strange faces, but bjfore
eel the house, we -weie mt. —
Howard, who turned baclf.vith. us
and introduced ns to'-^isl'vne. anc
daughters. Cordelia, his eltjst daugh
ter was.tlie most beautii
Her great !jmk_ eyes
■ hair was
I ever sav
sparkled like diamonds; if hair was
as smooth and glossy alt raven s
wing, and fell iu rich, heal, curls ov
er a’neck whiter than anflily in my
warden. She know,' I teiss, as well
as anv one, how dreaTiJ nandsome
she was, for she cjp-ivi<dher head
though slie were ah fcfcli cvtwo tal- , gRe
ler than common nffrtalt-j but she/ ossil
seemed very glad to fbe usjmd soon|f ooa ,
her musical voice jyew limesW 19
conversation vitli wt si?i
surprised to have seen him fall down
ind worship her. Yes, we all knew
very well that night that there was
another conquest for Cordelia.
“‘Pshaw!’ said my 7 father as we
were discussing' the matter at the
breakfast table next morning, ‘she’ll
llirt with him a'while, and then ship
him, as she has many a fine fellow.
Hotting short of a fortune can come
up t; her ladyship's notions.’
embroKi.
Ini
II flowers,.
I 1 ' ‘^COUVCtMti
Ge>:..T. E. ,Tdhxston's..Book.• who sat utar
aininefi the sumiile of this fo‘ Seemed to be
and have found it not only, so I was - for file
truthful, hut giving those sey lje was ^ddr-Ss
trolled the important i-h^t,,, taken by her
made in our army during J f orgo t at fi rst
war, showing the managen,., gi
department, and tha extent.
ie was
nk—just my age
dent Davis went in his intefv a "1 • o tlie s
Commanding Generals of ’ ? *e (Oinpai’-j, f
_ . e.nntr ! “
SOlll
gl
diliirently. V hadMgen. v. light in
lie.' prond eyefe|*a5Ti6 nppi'oafhed to
bil her good-night, which I lm| nov-
secn there before. Conl«Tt bo
le that she loved him—f d so
yi T e should see. '• 11
tine I passed 011, and C tries
or became an almost constant
«• -x-afr*
genei-ally thought he would finally
be lej-octed, for he was poor, just ad
mitted to the bar, and without any 7
practice. I did not, however, agree
with the public in this respect, for I
never saw 7 him approach her without
noticing the change which swept
over 1 er proud face. The brilliant
eyes grew 7 dreamy and tender, and
the smile with which she greeted
was far brighter
, T „ ,, 1 uiiii was rai oiignt
Jesepli Wilson, who is agent^' , ’ x ivl1 ' m 3 those she bestowed
CBB.b.Bua,
and who will be at
warmer, than
so lavishly on
Through the whole of that
her escort ou many au equestrian
' [excursion, when her queenly form,
recall very iiima’.e| I 1 iabl ' tea r “ a , ?} 0S * l Z 4*^2 rit J iu f]
, V„j , or i ; dress, c-hcited the admiration ot all
reVvl urmH 1! beholders. Together they rode, read,
5eldo1 apaTt ' ' Jlad danced and laughed tfie summer
aud autumn came with its
scldo
deceived
apart.
regard 3 her
\racter on ol first 11 ding,
Jr she was ever 1)1 same lo *abl
Leet tampered M-dhat he
Itures^oplain^ldicatfed.!
' ‘‘It was a hap|bj iov
Maria cape ani| us, for n:
if von: 2 ladieS|ut w 7 ero
o-ably older tlfi#'as, aud
? . soon ’ocoaH-ry dear
11Y start
when that de
' many happ/
the dim old v01
days’.
away; ancL autumn canie
rild'en fruits and faded‘blossoms,
would give a sixpence to kernw
Cordelia Howard realy does love
tirles Grover,’ said my sister Luey
: evening, as 1 was preparing to
fit. g^dowu to the cottage.
ie^. “ ‘Yoa are very cWions,’ said my
bpr Rmilimr ’
1 tb<
met aiother smiiiD_
and '“ ‘I am curious, for Charles’ sake,’
u a-aid the kindliearted hucy,’ for I
ind I sp^
^ lingtM
those iap-
yy
know it w ould bleak; his heart to be
I.oeived inow.’r
‘tMaiia did not meet me at the
M-ie a - usual that evening,'»nd being
la tbs most intimate termsVhh the
.1- <
volion I ever witnessed.
“I lound Maria in the garden, busy
among hei flowers, anil we were soon
in the midst of au earnest conversa
tion.
‘“Don’t you sometimes half envy
Cordelia the universal admiration she
excites?—and more than all, don’t
youenvy her handsome lover, Maria?’
Ia-ked
“‘Not one whit, Myra,’ she an
swered,. looking steadily into my fnc<-;
and her mild eyes grew earnest in
their expression. ‘Hot one whit,
neither die admiration nor her hand
some lover. 0, lie is handso.i.e, isn’t
lie ?’?he_K£nt_ on, ‘with those bold
j laughing eyes, aud ehestnu curls, aud
fine, classical features. I d.mi won
der Cordelia loves him as well a-she
do.-s, for he is a noble, true-hearted
lei low.’
“I knew all this was true, for he
was indeed a man worthy of any wo
man and I felt rather pleased than oth
erwise that ( the haughty Cordelia w as
conquered, at last.
“‘Of what are you ihiuking so ear
nestlv Maria?' I asked, as I saw her
eyes fixed in dreamy abstraction on
■ he ground.
“She started, blushed as I spoke,
but with a light iuugii, answered ; ‘O
nothing that’ll interest you, Myra;
nothing.’
“But I insisted upon knowing.
‘“Well,-then, sne said, diuwing
close to me and plaeinc one hand
lightly upon my shoulder, ‘I was
ibi.nkj.ag that aLrannyiii.rtm.-c-Ua,.-
Ban. Game rend tjaafi, 1 oouM bevel
love him.’
‘‘ Well, Maria, what sort of a para
gor. must your husband be?’I asked,
with a smile.
Xoiv you musu’t laugh at rue,
she said ; ‘leryou know I never ex
pect to marry any one halt re fine a
Charles; but I should want a hu
band lo whom I could look up and re
sped above ail persons on earth,
do not care for beauty, but I would
have liis mind so noble that those
who knew him best wouid nener feel
its absence; and one who had suffi
cient strength of mind aud purpose
for us both ; for, you know, she ad
ded, with a sweet smile of humility,
‘mat lam not strong iikeCordelia, bu
wo.uid rather be guided than toguido.
“The golden, fruitful autumn pa-s
away at length, aud winter’s chilling
winds aud'biting frosts eainc to usurj
its place, and then a corresponding
change seemed to come over the
hearts of Charles and Cordelia. We
watched in vain to see him pass our
house on bis way to the cottage. A
trange coldness seemed to have
prung up between them, and even
the shrewdest of our neighborhood
gossips could not fathom'the cause.
Some imagined that she had finally
rejected him, but the majority of u.-
concluded that it was only a lover’s
quarrel, brought on b- her haughty,
exacting nature. I never saw a be-
ng so thoroughly wretched as Char
es Grover seemed after this change.
It was enough to make one’s heart
ache to iook at him. ife never smiled
now, and we all instinctively avoided
mentioning her name in his presence,
for we saw that any allusion to their
former intimacy pained him exceed
ingly.
“There was but little outward
jeliange in Cordelia. She was still
the same haughty, self-possessed be
ing, perhaps a trifle colder Ilian for
merly, but by no outward sign couid
we discover the least trace of emo
tiou within, though Maria ofn-n told
me that in spite of“her assumed cold
ness, she was very wretched, but
even she knew not the cause of the
estrangement.
“Sometime during the winter, Cor-
fdelia went to spend a few weeks with
an aunt who resided in the city, and
from the tone of her letters, which
wrro from time to time received by
Maria and my sisters, we were led to
beleive that she was the gayest of the
gay, if not the happiest of.the happy.
She t<>ld us of the brilliant parties
she had attended, of the number of
proposals she had received, of the
wealth and magnifioence which every
where surrotmded her, and playfully
added that she had almost concluded
to remain during life with her aunt,
and return no more to her dreamy
country home, where there was neith
er excitement nor enjoyment.
But she did return, just a» spring
was unfolding her many buds and
blossoms, and all nature was awaking
to life and beauty. But we saw that
she was much changed. There was
a restlessness preceptible in her whole
manner, which seemed to carye con
tinual excitement.
“Hear the village below was a large
tract of land, known ss the Ashley
Farm, and a fine^ne it was,- too, the
largest and nicest irr*TjrfrAghqje coun
try round. This farm waso^M
a gentleman named Finley,
Her manner was
Charles Grover.’
sad and strange.
“ ‘Bo you think he is a bad man T
I asked, in some alarm.
“ ‘O, no,’ she replied, with the
greatest earnestness; ‘I believe he is
the soul of honor, and as noble as he
is generous. I wish you could see him.
“Wo were in the garden, then,
and I saw, as she ceased speaking,
m
he
carriage drive up and stop
gate.
‘Why, there he comes now, I de
clare !’ cried my friend; ‘and ma’ and
Cordelia are both out. What shall
I do?’
“Her face, before so pale, was now
deeply flushed, and I imagined he
must be a very formidable person
indeed, to cause so much excitement.
“It was with a good deal of trepi
dation that I saw him coming down
the gravel walk to meet us. He ex
tended his hand with a winning smile
to my blushing friend, and we offer
ed to escort him to the parlor to
await the coming of Cordelia, but he
preferred walking with us in the
garden. He could not compare in
beauty with Charles Grover, and, as
Maria had told me, he was very dif
ferent. He was quiet, almost grave,
in his manners, and had none of that
boyish lightness 'which rendered
Charley Grover so fascinating; but
he conversed very pleasantly with
us, seeming to know all our tastes
aud pursuits, as if by instinct. I
never before saw Maria appear to so
much advantage, for Mr. Finley could
ii1 fv , f»ntlCi5 ,, vWiur
character, and seemed to take a great
deal of pleasure in drawing out the
rich but hidden treasures of her mind
and heart. And very pretty she look
ed, too, iu her simple white dress,
with those blushing cheeks and soft,
lowncast eyes, and had not Mr. Fin
ley been the affianced husband of the
superb Cordelia, I should have pre
dieted that a lover would soon offer
his heart for my gentle friend’s ac
ceptance. Yery earnest and deep had
our conversation become when we
saw Cordelia and her mother alight
at the gate, and then in his own win
ning way he bade adieu, and we re
sumed our walk.
There was a great bustle of pre
paration now at the Howards’ for
the approaching nuti aals, and at the
earnest entreaties of Mrs. Hownrd I
went over to assist them for a few
days preparatory to the grand event
Every one in and about the house
seemed in a state of hurried excite
ment, save Cordeiia, and she seemed
the feast interested of the whole fata
ily. In the extensive preparation:
going forward,' she took no appareu
interest, but calmly submitted every-
frhing’into ihe hands of her mother
and sister, and would often drop hei
vork and sit for hours in listless ap
athy and sadness.*
“There had never tieen anything
approaching intimacy • between her
and myself, and I therefore scarce
ly wondered she so seldom address
ed me, hut I was surprised and pain
ed to sea that her coldness day by
day increased, until it at last amoun
ted to absolute aversion. Why was
it ? What had I done ? Often would
I look up from my work, to find her
great, mournful eyes fixed upon my
face, when, meeting my glance, she
would wheel her chair with a gesture
approaching to rudeness, to a distant
part of the room.
“I was standing at the window one
evening, wondering how Charles
Grover would bear the tidings of her
marriage, and if no remorse of con-
scince visited her midnight pillow,
when I felt a hand laid liglftly upon
my arm, aud turning, saw Cordelia
standing near me, with traces of re
cently shed tears upon her cheek.
“Y'ou are thinking of him, I know
you are, Martiia,’ she said, in an al
most bitter tone. ‘I never look in
your face hut I recall his name in
every though;.’
“1 was not thinking of Mr. Finley,”
I said, supposing she referred to
him, ‘but of Charles Grover.
I know it,’ she said in the same
bitter tone, ‘and that is why I dislike
you so much. Is there nothing else
you cau think of ?”
I was not awate that he did oc
cupy so much of my thoughts,’ I an
swered, ‘though I do feel deeply for
him, and if you had half a heart you
would shudder at the wreck your
vanity has made, ”
“Vanity !” she repeated, and a wild
light gleamed for a.moment in her
eyes. ‘How little you know of what
you are speaking I
“She turned away, and I saw no
more of her that night, but ever after,
her manner to me was kind and gen-
Mr. Finley called often, and for
some reason I could not fathom, Ma
ria invariably framed some pretext
for remaining in her own room du
ring his visit, though he always in-
thin partition of wood, am
would a low sob come to my ear, as
if her heart in its bitter agony were
indeed breaking.
Twish this were all over,” she
said to me one evening as we sat
alon&iu the parlor. ‘Only two days
mo jThank heaven for that! I
could no longer endure this fearful
struggle pride and-
“She paused abruptly, and then
in a tone which she meant should be
very cheerful, added:
“You must come and make me a
long visit after I am gone to the city,
Martha. O, I shall be very happy
there, don’t you think so ?”
“I had ho reason for telling a false
hood, and so I quietly answered,
‘No, I do not thiit you will.”
“And why not ?” slit asked angri-
“Because,” said I, with my usual
frankness, ‘I do not think that a per
son who has treated another as you
have Charles Grover can or ought to
be happy.’
“She made no reply but a moment
after, she came -and seated herself
by my side, and looking up, I saw
that the expression of anger had all
passed away, and was replaced by
one one of eager, almost breathless
excitement.
“Bo you think,’ she esked, in
low whisper, ‘that if I should offer
some explanation to him, and tell
him all I have suffered, that he would
forgive and forget the past ?”
“I looked at her in astonishment.
“You do not mean you would ask
liis pardon now?’ I said.
“Her cheek flushed, and I saw that
all her pride was again roused. ‘Ask
his pardon!’ she repeated, in a bit
ter, mocking tone. ‘It was like you
to think of that. No—never ! He
was as much in fault as I. She went
on hurriedly, as if speaking to her
self. ‘We were both passionate, ex
acting, and the hasty word passed
before reason had returned to us
and now a lifetime of misery must
atone for the rashness of a moment,
“Inexpressibly mournful was the
tone in which these words were spo
ken, and I began to feel for hex more
-deer^y tft-m ' over before done.
“I have but one wish more,’ she
said, after an interval of silence,
‘and that is to see him once more
before I am—am married. Will you
assist me in this ? if you but knew
all I suffer, all I expect to suffer, you
would not look so coldly on my des
pair. Just one look more,’ she went
on, in a low, pleading tone, ‘just one.
Will you not go with me?”
“No,’ I answered, as firmly as I
was able ; fit would benefit neither of
you'
“She turned away and left the
room, and I consoled myself by
thinking that her wild excitement
would soon pass away, as it usually
did.
“Maria and I were walking in the
garden that evening after, talking
over the approaching nuptials. Cor
delia remained in her own room,
pleading gey ere headache. We had
ueen in the garden but a few mo
ments, when the sound of approach
ing footsteps fell upon our ears, and
turning, we saw Mr. Finley. Maria
glanced hastily around, as if seeking
an opportunity fly, but failing in tin's,
she remaihed at my side. I could
feel the little hand which rested on
my arm tremble violently, though
for what reason I could not guess.
Mr. Finley greeted us cordially, and,
turning to Maria, asked in a re
proachful tone :
“Why have yon absented yourself
from my presence so much of late ?
did you not think the acquaintance
of your brother that is to be, worth
cultivating ?”
“I pitied my friend, then, for I nev
er saw a face express so much misery
that could not be concealed. Mr.
Finley gazed for a full minute into
her face, with a strange, searching
look, and then, after a few common
place remarks, bade us good even
ing, and Maria, without speaking a
Grover; and about an hour. ago, as
ingle word, returned to the house.
did not see Cordelia again that
night nor did she make her appear
ance af the breakfast table next mor
ning. .She was not ill, her mother
said, but her headache still contin
ued.
“Sometime during the forenoon,
Mrs. Howard came to me as I was
busily sewing with Maria, and re
quested me to come to her room for
a few moments. There was an ex
pression of anxiety upon her face,
and I instantly left my work and fol
lowed her.
“Have yon not noticed,” she ask
ed, in a low confidential tone, as she
closed the door carefully after us;
“have you not noticed that Cordelia
has acted very strangely of late ?”
“I replied in the affirmative.
“‘Yes, very strange,’ she said. T
thought at first, that it was ..nothing
perhaps but the excitement incident
to her approaching marriage; but I
your little brother Edgar was pass
ing, she went out to the gate to speak j'
to him, and I heard her say .as she
turned towards the house again.
“Now, if you love me, don’t, forget,
and as he ran off, I saw him put
something which looked like.a letter
in his pocket. And now, Martha, she
continued, ‘I have called you to ad
vise with me. What had we • better
do, think you?’
“‘Would it not be better to ac
quaint Mr. Finley with the whole
circumstances?’ I asked.
‘O, bless me, no—I wouldn’t do it
for the world? she said, in a frighten
ed tone. ‘Let us wait and hope for
the best.’ And the mother drew a
long sigh.
“ ‘Mama, do you know where Cor
delia has gone?” inquired Maria, as
we returned to the parlor.
' ‘No. Has she gone?”
‘Yes; she went out a few moments
ago; and though I inquired where
she was going, she made no reply,
but hurried on.’
‘Where can she have gone?’ said
Mrs. Howard, turning pale and sink
ing into a chair.
she is his wife, as she should 1
for me, I want no divided heart j
As
fed
tiful
as an angel; and so far from feeling
any resentment towards-yonr family
I ask as a favor to be permitted to
visit you sometimes;’ and he glanced
at the sobbing Maria. t
“He soon went away promising to
call again in the evening; andl, feel
ing that my presence was no longer
necessary, returned home.
“Early the next morning, I receiv
ed a note from Maria, requesting me
to come to her immediately. It sur
prised me somewhat, for I saw that'
the hand which had traced the lines,
had trembled violently. I threw on
my bonnet, however, and hastened
to Mr. Howard’s. A carriage stood
at the door, laden with trunks and
other travelling appurtenance^?. I
hastened to Maria’s room- - She was
that the way yoa pray."
The simple remark or question qJ
a pure-hearted (fluid has mSnangeA
for good, many a bad man and wo
man. One touching butanes is told
in the Maryland BtvuUican:
“The worm man in the village was
JackBanney. Hehadaeomfortabla
it it was apt • happy one
As booh u the big gate opened, his
two children, Milly and Bob, ran in.
to the house exclaiming, ‘Father has
come, and into the corner they
crouched, and there they staid anti
ordered to bod. There was no slap-
ping of hands, no ruby lips turned
up to receive father’s evening kirn
in Jack’s home. No, his childre*
stood in ter4r
standing at the mirror, arrayed in a
“ ‘Perhaps to Sje-of the neighbors,’
Marii.
suggested Marii.
“An hour pa3sed
away without
of her. Mrs.
, and at length,
at hef suggestion, Maria and I went
out to seek her. But where to go
was the next question. We knew
the direction she had taken—noth
ing more. Maria suggested that
perhaps she had gone - to see Lucy,
and we bent our steps in that direc
tion but ere we had proceeded far, we
were met by a countryman, of whom
I inquired if he had seen a lady pass
that way.
“Yes, miss,” he answered. “She
wore a green shawl and straw b^n^ot,
and was accompanied by a gentle
man in black.”
“Did you see his face ?” I inquired.
“How <fid he look?”
Well, I believe he was ratfeer tall,
and what the girls would call Tiasd-
some, with bine eyes and thick curl
ing hair.”
Charles Grover,’ whispered Maifia
turning pale.
I thanked the countryman for
his information, and we walked on.
“O, Martha, what shall we do ?”
said Maria in a frightened whisper.
“Shall we go on or not ?” I asked.
“I will do as you think best.”
"O, let us go on, by all means,
she answered; and we proceeded on
our way to Mr. Grover’s.
“As we approached the hall door,
we heard a murmur of voices, and
feeling justified in listening in the
present instance, opened the door
and entered. It was Cordelia’s voice
that fell so softly upon my ear.
“I did not know that you would
ever forgive mo, dearest Charles,’
she said; “but I felt that it would be
better to die at you feet, with your
look of scorn burning on my brow,
than to perjure my soul by a false
otah. I never loved him. Pride
and resentment towards you, alone
induced me to receive his attentions.
I know I have done wrong in every
thing, but I have suffered—O, so
much! and I eare for nothing now
dress of snowy muslin, with a wreath
of orange blossoms in her hair. She
came forward and threw herself in
my arms.
Maria, what does this mean?
asked.'
“Can yon not guess ?”she answered
blushing. ‘I am going to be married
to Mr. Finley. It was all arranged
last night. He says he issnre I can
make him happy, and love him so
well, I could not refuse to try/
“It all seemed very strange to me
at first, and heard the vows pronounc
ed, the congratulations offered, felt
the warm tears and wanner kisses as
she bade me adieu, saw Mr. Finley
hand her into the damage, saw them
drive away in' the direction of the
city, all the time wondering if I were
not dreaming. But after I got home
and thought it all over, I concluded
with Lucy that it was all for the best,
and that, if I lost toy best friend, she
” fouiid the best of hus
had
my turn m
“And now, Marla dear, m
done, Ad let ns go to the
have some tea, for l am ~
guess you are, too?
Some One to Lore.
Perhaps one of the most positive
■roofs that fee have of the soul’s in-
the body is our great
' something to love,
e animals, creatures
tsh after a few brief
this world, that which
rate would also ©
'-’’^Uhl-eleep
ependence
need of lov
Were we
doomed to p|
years of life ii
contents the
tent us. -To.
bis dayji work was done, did he go
homsrorunk, and then he was eros^
avfcT would strike the first one whe
came inj.his way.
“Oner day Jack w«v driritig his
cart, and the harness broke, and his
cart was backed into a ditch. Jack
sprang from his seat and began to
beat his horses most unmetpifulh
Uly
with his whip handle, while oath af
ter oath Tolled from his tongue, call
ing on God to ‘damn his souL’
“A little boy had-been rolling his
hoop up and down the Moment,
bat when he heard the awfifl - words
he caught his hoop in his hand and
stopped, saying, in a Wtnbling
vqjce: s
Is that the way you pray, Mr.
Ranney?"
’Jack turned in perfect astonish-
ment-bpt said nothing.
“Tfie words of the boy set him to
inking, and so kpubled his con
science that in a little while he be
came r oaanged main. No swearing
is heard now from his lips, and his
home is no longer s home of drunk-
~ i» His
eness. Who will doubt that i»
own way God will rsward that little
boy for his brave, ret gentle and
considerate wordsT—Youth't Conu
panion.
them, and J et be utterly wretched
Neither c/n mental food satisfy us.
“Some one to love,” is our hearts cry.
When the atmosphere of tender
ness is about us, we rejoice; when
people are harsh and unkind, we suf
fer. Ve begin life wishing to love
a U people, and believing they Jove
us. ^Experience hardens us. Our
dear ones grow fewer; but as long as
reason lasts, we most at least imagine
that some one loves us. The parents
sisters and brothers, that dearest
frieid whom we promise to love and
cbxish until death parts ns, these
ccme into our lives and fill them np
yjfterwards come the little children,
i-ail helpless babies, who need
A Tbub Hero.—A boy about nine
ears old, was bathing one day, when
•y some mischance, be got into deep I
water and began to sink. His elder
brother saw him 7 and ran to save
him, but, lacking strength or skill, he *
also sank to the bottom of the river.
As the two drowning brothers rose
to the surface, for the last time, they
saw a third brother, the youngest of
the family, running down the bank
_ * ,ve thg
-•--^oMakedthe^.rioT/'^r'strui 1
have an easy timff of it, would be'-i- v. . r .°*. Htrn ^
enough. As it is, we may have all
these things, and health to enjo
save^my husband’s^ love. ^1 care nofccare so much, and ^friends to ° whom
S@
for the opinion of the world. It mavv r e are not kin, yet who' grow deir
pass judgment upon my coj^T-^TT-fr^- ®
larshly as it will—my husband’s love “V£n6 iaKfilmaterv ’-ayed «««
fear it is something more now.’
“ ‘Have you seen
you seen anything this
morning to arouse your suspicions?’
I asked.
‘Yes, much. All last night Ity-rd,
her walking her room, and soomtffito* 1
I would hear her moan out, as if in
the greatest pain; but whenever I
Trent to her, she forbade my staying
an instant, saying that she only felt
restless and could not sleep. But
this morning I went to her room and
found her lying upon the bed. I
that she had been weeping
and in her hand
ed and wet with
far outweighs it all,
“Very sweet were the tones in
which these words were uttered. And
then we heard another voice:
: ‘My Cordelia—my wife,” it said,
as if the words were wrung from a
heart overflowing with some strong
emotion, ‘wo will forget the past, aud
ive only for tne ruiure. How hap-
dyweshall be!”
We Maited no longer, but ad vane
ed into the room. Cordelia advanced
to meet os.
“Maria,” she said, in a voice of
great sweetness, and her eyes grew
lustrous aa she placed her sister’s
hand in that of Charles, ‘this is my
husband yoar brother! Can you
not congratulate us ?”
“Maria grew deadly pale.
“0, who will tell Aim/” she cried.
What will he say ? How could you
treat a being so uoble with such cruel-
What shall we tell tutor ma
ma?”
“Tell her that I am verf happy,”
was the reply.
“Will you not aclcnotf/edge me as
brother, Maria?’ said Charles, in
reproachful tone.
“She pressed her pale lips to his
forehead, but she was sobbing bitter-
' , and as soon as possible I drew her
from the room.
Martha,’ said Cordelia, tell Mr
Finley all. He will forgive me, for long
ago he learned that we were never
made for each other. I left a note
for him upon my table.’
“When we returned home, we
found Mr. and Mrs. Howard and Mr.
Finley awaiting us.
“‘Where—where is she?” cried
Mrs. Howard. ,
“Maria only sobbed, aud I, after
hesitating aawinstant bluntly
swered: t
“ ‘She is
er.’
“Mrs. E
glanced at
band mutj
ed very
tailed
Jiftyft miifeiy 'ot edonea^ ajvA
some but one. Heaven help those
who have none though they are gen
erally to blame for their empfyheart-
edness; for kindness will win love.
They often show their craving for
something to love by cherishing -some
dumb animal—a
log, kitten, a par
rot, perhaps, on which they lavish
caresses which, better spent, would
have bound some human heart to
theirs. Pnde, or morbid sensitive
ness, may have been^at the bottom
of their loneliness ana these pets of
theirs fill the aching void a little.
Some one to lovej It is the cry of
the hnman soul, the note to which
every heart responds; the bond
which will bind us all together in
that world where mourners shall be
comforted and love shall reign for
ever.
Procrastination.—Do yoa re-
uember the Ipsa of the vessel called
the “Central America?” She was in
a bad state, had sprung a leak and
was going down, aod she, therefore,
hoisted a signal of distress. A ship
came close to her, the esptain of which
asked through a trumpet, “Wbit is
amiss?” “Weare in bad repair, and
are going down: lie by till morn
ing,” was the answer. But the cap
tain on board the rescue-ship said,
“Let me lake your passengers on
board now.” “Lie by till morning,”
was the reply which sonnded through
the trnmpet. About an" hour after,
the lights were missing, apyi though
no sound was heard, sne and all on
board had gone down to the fathom
less abyss. 0 unconverted friend do
not say, “Lie by till morning.” To
Jay, even to-day, bear ye the voice
of God.
gling, as he was, with death, he gath
ered all his strength, and eried to his
brother, on shore:
‘"-Don’t come in, or father will lone
all his boys at once!”
Noble little fellow! Though dying,
he forgot himself and thought only
of his lather’s grief. He was a gen
uine hero. His brother obeyed his
dying command, and wae spared to
comfort his father when his two
dead eons were taken from tbs riv
er,^clasped in each other’s arms.
on are not called to be he
roes in this way, bnt yon are ealled
to consider the feelings of yonr pa
rents, and to study how to avoid giv
ing them pain- The best way to do
this is to love them dearly. Lots
will not only keep you from hurting
their feelings, but it will. you
sotro-'-s tfl great joy to their hearts.
Blejpsed are those children whose
and deeds make sweet mnsio
m their parents soul.
Masks.—If we could only read
each others’ hearts we should be kind
er to each other. If we knew the
wees and bittternrasand physical an
noyance of ear neighbors we should
make allowances for them whieh we
do not now. We goading our heart
pangs and our headaches ss carefully
as wc can; and yet we wonder that
others do not disoover them by in
tuition. We cover our best feelings
from the light; we do not so conceal
our resentments and our. dislikes, of
which we are prone to ba proud.
Often two people ait e.ose together
with, “I love jo*” in either heart,
and neither knows it. Each thinks
“I couid be fond, but wbak is tbs
use of wasting fondness os one who
does not care for it?” and so they part
and go tbeir ways alone. Life is a
masquerade at which few unmask
even to their very dearest. And though
there is need of much masking, it
would be well if wedared show plain
ly our real faces from birth to death,
for then some few, si least would tru
ly love east other.
NS
At a party, the other evening,
Smith, the fnnny man, picked from
the floor some false hair, and, hold
ing it aloft, wickedly asked who had
lost it. * Impifisively the of every
lady within ear-shot went to back
hair. It was eruel to throw-them off
their guard and expose them so, bnt ‘
Smith says it waswt his lanlt.