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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