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JULY.
When the scarlet car Inal tells
Her dream to the dragon fly,
And the lazy bret ze makes a neht In the trees
And murmurs Its lullaby,
It Is July.
When the tangled cobweb pulls
" he corn flower's blue cap awry,
Arid the lillles tall lean over the wall
To bow to the butterfly,
It Is July.
When the heat like a mist veil floats,
And popples flame In the rye,
And the silver note in the streamlet’s throat
Has softened almost to a sigh,
It Is J uly.
When the hours are so still that Time
Forgets them, and lets them lie
’Neath petals pink till the night stars wink
At the sunset in the sky,
It is July.
When eaoh finger-post by the way
Bays that Slumbertown is nigh;
When the grass Is tall and tbe roses fall,
ABd nobody wonders why;
It Is July.
ST. NICHOLAS.
A Physician’s Story.
I am old now ; so old and feeble
that for several years I have been un
able to continue the practice of my
profession. Yet as a master of ht»bit,
as a kind of second nature, a day
rarely passes without finding me at
my office, as I still call the little dusty
den away out of hearing of the noise
and crash of the street.
Yesterday, as I was sitting there
alone, a friend came in and gave me
a long, garrulous account of a skeleton
that had been but an hour before dis
interred in the heart of the city by
some workmen digging for the foun
dation of a building. It was the skel
eton of a woman, he said. I looked
at him sharply, and satisfied myself
that he told this merely as a piece of
Intelligence. Heaven helped me to
keep composed, I think. This was
my dead secret!
“And some physicians gave it as
their opinion that this skeleton had
lain under the ground quite fifty
years,” the man continued.
I hit my lips, they were white
enough before. Cunning fellows,
these brother physicians of mine, it
was exactly fifty years !
But nobody could recognize the
bonej, of course.*
I breathed more freely.
“There was one remarkable thing,
however, about this singular exhuma
tion. On the fourth bony finger of
the left hand a brilliant diamond ring
was discovered, which sparkled and
scintillated as clearly as though it had
not been for half a century covered by
the mold.”
The speaker did not notice at that
point how nervously I closed my left
hand. I did not care to have him see
the counterpart of the ornament he
described at that moment.
*****
Somewhat more than fifty years ago,
and in this very room where I write,
I conceded the long, weary probation
of my student life, and entered singly
upon the practice of my probation.
My success was immediate and grati
fying. Those who had been long and
firmly established in the city were as
tonished to find themselves supplanted
in a day, as it were, by one they had
hitherto affected to despise.
To be brief, l was successful almost
beyond precedent; business and
money came at my demand, and the
city resounded with*praises of my skill,
and the wonderful cure| I had per
formed.
I was called from my bed one mid
night upon one occasion, and directed
in the most urgent manner to repair
at once .to the residence of Judge C—.
The house indicated was the home of
one of the wealthiest and proudest
families of B—, and I obeyed the sum
mons as soon as possible.
It was with difficulty that I ascer
tained amid the sobs and tears which
greeted my arrival, that Helena C ,
the only and idol: zed daughter of
the family, and the acknowledged
belle and beauty of the city, had been
attacked with a violent
suddenly
malady. ,
It needed but a glance at the suffer-
er to assure me of this. Although
perfectly well an hour before, she was
now far nearer death than life.
The disease which had se'zed her
was one of the most malignant and
quickly fatal with which my experi
ence had yet made me conversant.
Hbe lay perfectly motionless, her
lips as iigid as those of death, and the
closest of seiutlny could deteot no res
piration; while upon each cheek
burned a single fiery spot, tue sure
mark of the destroyer.
“Cm you save her?” was the
father’s agonized question.
“Tbe chances are ninety nine in a
hundred against her living an hour,”
was the reply. “Nevertheless, I will
leave nothing undone.”
My end was rvecomplisbed. For
thirty-six consecutive hours I sat by
her bedside, wearily combating the
fatal disease which had assailed her ;
and when I at last pronounced her
out of danger, I felt that I had almost
wrought a miracle.
This was auother triumph added to
my list and ihe report of my fame
was in every mouth.
But this was not the only conse
quence of the occurrence.
The discovery that my lovely and
amiable patient regarded me with a
warmth of emotion and gratitude
which only her own warm heart
could conceive, filled me with feelings
of the liveliest pleasure. She regarded
me as her benefactor, her savior ; in
short, she loved me most fervently. I
knew it long before her recovery, in a
hundied different ways she betrayed
it, and the consciousness of that fact
gave me an exultation which carried
me with a buoyant step through the
labors < f the day. To be loved by one
so pure, so fair and so good,was well
worthy to be made the great ambition
of any ordinary lifetime.
For several weeks after Helena’s
perfect restoration to health, I was a
frequent and welcome visitor at the
house. Neither of us had ever spoken
of love, and yet I knew that she,
equally with myself, was secretly
hoping for a future of wedded happi
ness—at least this hope was the cher
ished dream of my life, and alas! like
every other dream it had its end.
Buoyant and elated with my false
hopes, I ventured one day to ask He
lena’s father’s to sanction our love.
The revelation was a new one to him ;
and with a frown, the haughty, purse
proud aristocrat bade me leave his
house and to never approach it again.
I remonstrated, but to no purpose;
even the poor privilege of a farewell
interview with Helena was denied me
and I left that mansion of pride and
heaitlessncss utterly wretched and
sick at heart.
I quickly discovered that no oppor
tunity was left for clandestine inte
views with Helena. The severity of
perpetual despotism had even, as I as
certained, imposed upon her the con
finement of locks and bars, upon her
positive refusal to discard me. Her
house was now a prison to her.
Embittered by such relentless oppo
sition as this, I began to consider
Helena as forever lost to me, and fol
lowing the idle impulse of the mo
ment, I started upon a voyage to
Europe.
Wandering restlessly over the coun
tries of the Old World for a year, I at
length received a letter from home
among other things, spoke of the
marriage of Helena—I smiled bitterly
as the name of the husband caught
my eye. The man who was (hus pre
ferred to me was coarse, sensual and
unrefined, but wealthy, and therefore
quite unexceptionable to Judge C-
I shuddered ae I thought of her fu
ture—sighed; perhaps, at the thought
of the event of my hopes and expecta
tions—and then resolutely dismissing
the theme from my mind, I com
menced my weary homeward journey
It was the very day, if I remember
rightly, subsequent to my return to
B—, that I was fitting here in my
office, solitary and alone.
I had as yet seen hardly a single
one of my former acquaintances, and
was more utterly wretched and deso
late, if possible, than before my de
parture, for, spite of my utmost en
deavors, my thoughts were constantly
fixed on Helena.
I had almost lost consciousness of
external objects, when a light rap upon
the door reached me. There had been
an audible step in the passage, and
conjectured that my visitant was a
woman, and none other than the
subject of my thoughts.
Helena stood in the doorway, but
how changed I 8) altered was she,
that I could scarcely recogn’ze her;
her thin, prematurely wasted face
marked with lines < f grief and care,
preserved few, very frw vestiges of the
beauty it once wore. The shock
which her unexpected appearance
gave me, composed me at once, and
closipg the door after her, I placed a
chair and calmly awaited her pleasure.
She, however, was embarrassed and
agitated. 8 be remained standing for
a moment, slipping a ring on and off
her Auger, her eyes resting on the
floor. Finally *he said, in a trem
bling voioe:
“Do not think ill of me, Walter, for
coming here. I heart* of vour return
and wished to see yod, If hut for a mo
ment. I am very unhappy*”
Her last word* were addireseed rather
to herself than to me, and yielding to
her emotion she sank info a chair and
sobbed bitterly. Respecting the feel
ing which I knew she could not con
trol, and which was momentarily
gaining upon me, I turned away until
she had an opportunity to compose
herself.
“My errand here to-day,” she con
tinued, “is to return you this ring.
You will remember it, I know. There
was no person to whom I could in
trust it, and my husband almost daily
demauds to know the history of it.
And besides, I wished to say farewell,
forever. Good by, Walter!”
Her hand was icy cold. As I re
leased it she turned toward the door,
but In an instant she tottered toward
me, her face blauched to the Whiteness
of death. Hid I not sustained her
she must have fallen to the floor.
“Good heaven, Walter, It is my hus
band’s step on the stairs,” she whis
pered, in a thrilling tone. “You know
him; his jealousy is alwayB active—I
am lost if he finds me here! Save me
from discovery, in God’s name! every
thing depends upon It!”
“There is that closet,” I suggested.
She entered it eagerly and closed
the door.
“It might he left a little ajar for
air,” I whispered, hurriedly.
“No; close it—lock it!” was the
excited reply, and I had hardly with
drawn the key when Helena’s hus
band entered.
Why, what’s the matter?” were
his first words. “You are pale and
agitated; what has happened?”
“Nothing—nothing, I assure you,
more than the effects of traveling,”
was my reply.
The remark was an unfortunate one,
for my unwtloome visitor immedi
ately insisted upon hearing a de ailed
account of my foreign experience.
Uneasy and restlesB as I was, I
was compelled to submit, and for a
full hour my tormentor compelled me
co eit- and answer his questions.
Meanwhile I was in a perfect agony of
fear and uneasiness. I followed every
movement he made, lest some chance
clew might betray the presence of
Helena, and I alternately adopted
and rejected a thousand expedients to
rid myself of him. My position at
length grew absolutely intolerable;
not tfie least among my thoughts was
that of the sufferings of Helena, con
fined in the stifling air of that miser
able closet, and I was on the point of
intimating to the tormentor that I
wished to be alone, when he ex
claimed :
“Ah, let me examine your ring.”
And before I could make a movement
to prevent him, he had slipped it from
my fi tiger and was intently examin
ing it.
“A pretty ring,” he observed, eye
ing me sharply. “May I ask where
you obtained this?”
“I purchased it some time since,”
was my careless reply.
How I hated the monster for bis
question. How I wished to hurl him
headlong down the stairs. But I fore
bore.
“Did you ever give away an orna
ment like this?” was his next ques
tion.
“I never did.”
The answer came emphatic and
positive and my wrath rose almost
beyond check. Never may I have a
harder struggle to refrain from strik
ing a human being to my feet. Idiot!
villian, he was murdering a life worth
more than a thousand of his own
every moment of his stay.
“Well,” he continued, “I asked •be
cause I had particular reasons for ask
ing-very particular reasons they are,
I assure you, you know my wife?”
' “I have met her,” I replied, with
an involuntary start.
“It Is something that concerns her.
I will tell you exactly what I mean
some day.
“I don’t ask your confidence,” said
I.
“No, but I mean to give it, never
theless,” he rejoined, with a grim
smile, rising to go. -'Doctors are
sometimes very useful advisers in
family affAirs.”
He was gone at last. With three
strides I reaohed the closet, when the
outer door again opened on my tor
mentor. He had merely returned to
make some trivial remarks and again
he was gone. Now, however, I waited
until his footsteps had ceased to fall
on the stairs, and then the key was
again ii serted in the lock. But J
could proceed no further; the reac
tion of my terrible nervous excitement
of tbe last two hours overoame me,
and 7 leaned, weak and breathless,
against the door. The thought oc
curred to me to call her name, and
accordingly I spoke it, “Halena?”
It was in a low whisper and no re
sponse. I repeated it aloud, but no
answer ; still louder, with the same
result. A mortal, d'zzy sicknesscame
over me, and I could scarcely force
vitality enough to my fingers to un
close the door. But I did ar.d looked
in fearfully, shuddering^. Helena
was leaning against the wall, her face
hidden In her hands. Again I repeat
ed her name, and when she gave me
no answer ; I placed my hand upon
her shoulder. Her whole body yielded
to my touch, and 7 found myself sup
porting her in my arms. Sle had
doubtless fainted.
So I thought as I carried her from
the closet and placed her inert form
in my office chair, for not until then
had I Been her face. God of mercy 1
What a revelation did that face con
tain ! It was white and ghastly, every
muscle set with a rigid expression of
fear, the dull eyes gazing upon me
with their expressionless, stony gaze.
My heart gave one great thiob and
stood still; in an instant I had ap
plied my fingers to the wrist. The
pulse was still—the blood stagnant—a
stroke of the lancet failed to draw it
forth. The. horrible truth was ap
parent. She was dead. Fear alone
had killed her.
Here my strength failed me ; I reeled
and fell to the floor, lost in a stupor of
insensibility.
It was night when I awoke, and
slowly the horrors of my position came
back to me. But I was calm, at leas 1 ;
and there in the darkness of midnight,
and in the company cf the dead, I
pondered upon my future movements.
My determination was quickly
taken, and placing the ring which
she had given me upon her finger—
the ring that ehe once promised to
wear as long as she loved me—and
kissing her dead lips once (I dared to
do that), I raised the body in my arms
and bore it out into the night. For
tune favored me ; the streets were de
serted ; no one crossed my way during
my fearful journey. Reaching
woody spot just beyond the city,
hollowed out a grave, and there
buried her.
Hsre is my story. Learn from it,
if you will, why I am drawn hither
daily ; decide whether there should be
a fascination for me iu the dust and
cobwebs of my office ?
Sentiment.
A Rogue.
Grandma was nodding, leather think ;
Harry was sly pnd quick as a wink;
He climbed on tbe back of her great arm chalrv.
And nestled himself very snugly there.
Grandma's dark locks were mingled with,
white,
And quick this little fact came to his sight;
A Bharn twinge soon she felt at her hair,
And woke, with r a start, to; find Harry there.
Why, wh it are you doing, my,’ child?” stun
said.
He answered : “1’se pulling a basting-freadt”
A Wife to her Husband.
Oae of us dear—
Butone—
Will sit by a bed with a marvellous fesr,
And clasp a hand,
Growing cold as it feels;for the spirit land—
Darling, which one?
One of us, dear—
But one—
Will stand by the other’s ooflla bier
And look and weep,
While those marble lips strange silence keep—
Dxrltng, which one?
One of us, dear—
But one—
By an open grave will drop a tear,
And homeward go,
The anguish of an unshared grief to know—
Darling, which one?
One of us, darling, it must be;
it may be you will slip from me;
Or perhaps my life may first be done—
Which one ?
If a great thing can he done at all II
can} be done easily. But it Is that kind
of ease with which a tree blossoms
after long years of gathered strength
Rvakin.
Build a little fence of trust
Around to-day;
Fill tbe space with loving work,
And therein stay.
Look not through the sheltering bars
Upon to-morrow;
God will help thee bear what cornea
Of joy and sorrow.
The Church Temporal,
“The standard of Christian fellow-
ship,” says The Christian Union, “is
gradually changing from acceptance
of an historical dogma to agreement
in spiritual faith and experience.”
The Jubilee Fund of the Congrega
tional Union of England, started last
year at its semi-centennial, is reported
to have reached $760,000. It is to be
used to pay chapel debts and supple
ment salaries in the smaller parishes
In Switzerland efforts are being
made by earnest Carlstian people to
relieve letter carriers from w«rk on
Sunday, they being required to dis
tribute letters on that day as well as
others. Little gummed tickets have
been prepared to be attached to letters
like stamps, on which ia printed
“This Is not to be delivered at the
house on Sunday.”
The English Salvation Army is
threatened with a “rival organiza
tion.” A band of evangelists called
“The Christian Army,” having about
thirty “stations” iu the country, is
being organized; and the London
correspondent of The Manchester
Guardian understands that the Rev.
Michael Baxter, the well known lec
turer on “The Present Crisis and the
Second Advent of Christ,” has und< r-
taken the leadership.
The Maine Universalist Couvention
met iu Augusta on June 27ch. The
report of the treasurer for the year
enditfg June, 1882, shows: Total re
ceipts from all souroes, $3,926.26 ; tot»'
expenditures for all purposes, $1,622.
20; balance in the treasury, including
permanent fund, $2,304.06. The per
manent funds of the Convention were
stated as as follow : Missionary fund,
$1,112.60; educational fund, $493 16;
iudigent r^iUlster fund, $363.22 ; total
$1 968.98.
Rev. Mr. Dodds reiterates that once
while riding.on the circuit he break
fasted at a house where Johnny cakes
were served. Observing a feather pre-
trading from his cake he remarked :
“Sister, your johnny cake seems to be
to be feathering out.” “Yes,” re
plied the l»dy unabashed: “I told
Johnny no l-nger ago than ytBterday
tha’ he must el her get a cover for the
meal barrel or move the hen roost.”
Mrs Langtry is to receive $600 a
night, and all expenses of herself and
maid, for 10) nights in America.
A String of Poetical Gems,
Needless.
There is no need for me to tell
What blossom has the happy lot
To match the eyes whose glances spell;
“Forge t-me-not.’’
Ard as they cannot but sucoeed
In that remembrance which they plot,
I see no need for them to plead:
“Forget me not/’
CHARLES H. CRANDALL,
The First Hiss and the Last.
In life, no more 1 Tbe leaves fell last,
And all tbe heaven was overcast;
We looked into each other’s eyes—
We kissed oi e kiss between oar slghe-^,^
It was the first kiss and the last.
In vain we wait with souls aghast—
No more across Ihe silence vast
Come protests faint, come faint replies—5
In life, no more!
No more In dalliance or In haste,
rt. April airs or autumn blast,
We meet—and every heartache flies;
We kiss and all dlvlslon-dles.
No more I The moment came, and paassd-l
In life, no more!
Here and Hereafter.
Azure and roBe-tlnt, crimson and gold,
Oh! if the wonders could only be told
Of a glorious settlDg sen.
If the fleecy white clouds In their silver?
sheen
Could only be painted, as they have been seo&A’.
What to us would the shadow be worth,
This faint gleam of a smile from our dettf
mother earth ?
Bat no more can we paint the clouds as wr
ought,
Than picture, and Iratne a beautiful though#*
Or portray on canvas, or fashion in mold
The angelic face of a glorified soul;
No, these each belong to the Almighly Ona."
He gives form to the soul, He cheated the scusj
And when He our souls their bodies have
given, .,^1
We shall see Him, and know Him,
And that will be Heaven.
JOSEPHINE JAMBA. '
The Jasmine Wreath.
Jasmine, with gilly flow’rs I wreathe, ,
My lips his name oft fondly breathe.
O crimson gilly-flow’rets sweet.
O’er which the wanton zephyrs blow.
Bring tokens my true love to greet,
Tell him e'en thus my heart doth glow!
O J ismlne, pure as virgin snow,
Thy sweetest perfumes o’er him breathe,
Say, like thy petals I am pale,
And, yearning, ever weep and wail—
Jasmine with gllly-fl iw’rs I wreathe.
A thousand blossoms, gemmed with dew,
Now *nea<h the vernal sun are born.
All rich in perfume, gay of hue—
Alas 1 their beauty will be gone
Ere doth arise another morn t
Tell me, my fragrant Jasmine wreath.
Tell me, O gilly-flow’rets red,
Is Love’s bloom, too, so quickly shed?
My lips his name eft fondly breathe!
-LONDON soerwrr*
Pale sea-green silk dresses of the
most artistic and eetthetio hue, or tint
rather, nearly covered with white laoe
rt.fflss, paniers, and bertha of laoe to
match, draped over the bodice, are to
be very fashionably worn at simmer
evening dancing parties this season.'
An imported toilet of this description kk
marked at $650, the elegant lace upon
it having muoh to do with Its most
mod eat price.
Of 1000 ounces of healthy human
blood 781.6 ounces consist of water and
318.6 ounces of solid matter.
V