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THE RIVER OF 1IKE.
Oh I a wonderful stream Is the river of time,
An it runs through the realms of tears,
With a laultless rhythm and a musical
rhyme,
And a broader sweep and a surge sublime,
And blends with the ocean of years.
How tl'« winters aro drifting like flakes of
snow,
And the summers like buds between,
And the year in the sheaf—so they come and
they go
On the river’s breast, with its ebb and flow,
As it glides in the shadow and sheen,
There’s a magical isle up the river of Time,
Where the softest ofalrs are playing,
There’s a cloudless sky and a tropical clime,
And a song as sweet as a vesper chime
And the Junes with the roses are staying.
And the name ol that Isle is Long Ago,
And we bury our tieasures there,
There are bri ws of beauty and bosoms of
■now,
There are heaps of dust, hut we loved them
so!
There aro trinkets and tresses of hair.
There are fragments of song that nobody
sings,
And a part of an Infant’s prayer;
There’s a lute unswept and a harp without
strings,
There are broken vows and pieces ol rings,
And tbe garments that she uted to wear.
There a'-e hands that are waved when the
fairy shore
By the mirage is lifted In air;
And we sometimes near through the turbu
lent roar,
Bweet voices we heard lu the days gone be
fore.
When the wind down the river Is fair.
and he saw no reason to change his
opinions as he knew ht r better.”
‘ So that is Mr. Lance Leveling!”
exclaimed Oriella, with tha faintest
mockiag curl of her luscious lips, when
lunce was over and Maud had accom
panied her to the choicrst room upon
the “seaside” - of May Croft.
“Yes; and do own up, Oriel, that he
is flue-looking,”
“I cannot, dear I detest men with
dark brown eyes and j ist a little curl
to the hair. They are always insuffer
able conceited. How Btupid that he
should be here just when I had antici
pated having such a delicious little
visit J”
“Well, he is here, and you’ll have
to make the best of it,” strid Maude,
in her heart secretly glad that it had
all happened. “We cannot send him
away.”
“Oh, of course not; but perhaps he
will have the good grace to cut his stay
short, seeing that we abhor each other,
and it would be much pleasanter for
me to have him away.”
“But how do you know that he ab
hors you ?”
“I saw it in his eyes,” said Oriella,
calmly.
All of which being overheard by Mr.
“And now I hat you have painted my
‘ideal woman,’ would you mind depict
ing your ideal man ?”
‘ Ob, he is tall, r< al tall and slender,
witn piercing eyes and white Hair and
beard, and an enormous bank ac
count.”
“I see the money question still pre
vails,” said Lance, with slight sa„-
c sin.
Oriella opened her beautiful big eyes
very wide.
“ VV by, of course it does. The ambi
tion of my life is to marry rich. But
I’m tiling you, I’ll come again to read
ju3t after dinner. We understand each
other now, don’t we ? We may as well
be friends.”
Lance smiled, and held out his well
hand to her.
It was nearly winter before May
Croft was desolated by the departure
of its guests, and Maude Sanborn went
up to town with Miss Gladmyr without
being able to discover that her two
cousins admired each other one whit
more than when they first met. Stiff,
as Oriella remained in New Yoik for
the season, instead of returning to her
home in Baltimore, they two saw a
great deal of each other, and grew,
slowly, more and more confidential
Levering, who sat at his open window friends, uutil when, in March, sorne-
A Masked Wedding.
Oriella and Lance Levering have
been married five years the first of this
April and they have not yet decided
which of them was fooled upon that
important occasion. One of them must
have been, that is csrtain, since their
very marriage was but an April-fool-
day joke. Oriella declares it was
Lance who was the fool, because he
had always been adverse to blondes
Ikiul uesp'TSed-fi.irts, and bad frequently
asserted that if the was the only woman
in the world he would not marry her.
All of which Mr. Levering now un-
blushingly explains by saying that he
was only averse to blondes before he
saw Oriella, that his abhorrence was a
general rule, never applied to individ
ual cases, and that if Oriella had been
th9 only woman in the world he never
would have had the chance to marry
her. At this his wife laughs with soft
mockery. And then Lance goes on to
say that Oriella was the fool, for she
had never admired him ; she had re
peatedly declared her intention to mar-
ry no lilajrwTio could not count his
wealth by hundreds of thousands, and
she was already—
But 1 am telling their story too rap
idly. Here it is in detail:
Lance Levering—proud, ambitious,
handsome, with all those transcendent
al views of marriage so common to men
who have been too much admired and
t indulged by women, too easily success
ful with them—and Oriella Gladmyr—
a radlant£Londe, and a reputed accom
plished flirt—met one summer at May
Croft. Tne owner of May Croft, Ned
Sanborn, was a distant cousin to them
both, and Ned and Lance were fast
friends; so were Oriella and Ned’s wife,
Maude. Of course the two had heard
of each other, and always in glowing
terms, until Lance had come to dis
miss the subject with contempt, saying
that he detested blonde women and
despised flirts, and had no desire to
ever know or see the beautiful Miss
Gladmyr : and Oriella had openly de
clared that Lance—judginjf from tbe
.^ftfwui^ahinet photograph of him
finding in its rich plush frame upon
her cousin’s dressing table—was hide
ous, and that she knew he was cold,
conceited, and in every way ihor-
ltrhly detestable. And it seemed as
d and Maud, who were deter-
thelr favorites should know
other, never would be
ringing the two together,
onths of mai oe jvering,
happened unexpectedly
ent to Newport to spend
at May Croft, assured by
reports that Miss Gladmyr
Saratoga. And that same
hty'iat at lunch, just Ned
and Maude and their guest, for once
alone, Oriella Gladmyr walked in upon
them with he| gay laugh and her
beauty just as Jlazzllng as if she were
not robed in the severest of travel
ing dresses, and had not been danoing
until day-dawn through ail the pie
ceding six weeks.
► In his heart Lanoe had to admit the
beauty, however nuuoh he disliked the
type; but her style offended him in
every particular Immediately. She
was a coquette, audacious, independ
ent. r self-possessed, impassionate,
hly worldly, he told himself;
just next an open one m Miss Glad
myr’s room, caused him to resolve to
stay his full two weeks. He did abhor
her, but he was piqued by her, too,
and had not the slightest intention of
sacrificing his pleasure in any way to
hers.
Being a man of charming manners,
however, he did please Miss Gladmyr
in many ways; and as to dancing to
gether, they found that it was bliss, so
thoroughly were their movements in
rhythmic harmony. They drifted
through the two weeks, preserving a
sort of armed neutrality toward each
other, and then, the last day of his
appointed stay, Lance was brought
home with s» veral broken bones and
tbe prospect of remaining at May
Croft for an indefinite period. He
had b< en thrown from his horse while
atten pting to rescue some ladies from
a carriage drawn by a runaway learn.
It war a week alter the accident
that Lance and Oriella came to an
understanding with each other that
established friendship between them.
He found Miss Gladmyr a delightful
reader, but, for reasons best known to
himself, he bated to let her read to
him ha’f as long or as often as would
have been agreeable to him. Oriella
saw this, and frankly told him of it.
“You are very silly not to make tbe
most of any generous impulses I may
have,” she exclaimed, lightly. “I am
not often given to benevolent acts.
As for my falling in love with you—if
that is what you fear—why, set your
mind entirely at rest. You’re not at
all a well-looking man, according to
my standard of masculine beauty, and
Maud tells me that vou are not—well,
what I call rich, and except that you
dance divinely, and have the manners
of a gentleman, and—just now—sev
eral broken bones, there’s nothing in
teresting about you that any young
woman should fall in love with you.”
“Thanks, Miss Gladmyr,” laughed
Lance when she had ended her gay
little mocking speeeh, “for being kind
at all to so uninteresting an old fellow
as myself.” , ,
Not at all. You know it is awful
for Maude to have you on her hands in
this way, and decency compels me to
help her care for you in any way I
can. i cannot do much, but nearly
every one likes to hear me read, and
since you enjoy it, too, why you and
Maude must make the very most you
can out of my small charity.”
“I intend to after this,” Baid Lance,
coolly. “You do read well.”
“Yes; it is my one accomplishment.
Once I dreamed of making fame and
fortune by it. Now I know an easier
way to get the fortune.”
“Yes?” questiouingly.
“Yes; to marry it. I never intend
to marry any man who cannot count
his money by the hundreds of thous
ands.’’
“Indeed! Do you tell me that for
fear 1 should fall in love with you?”
“Oh, no,” retorted Oriella, nonchal
antly. “I know there is not the slight
est danger of such a thing. You need
no warnings. You dislike me too
much.”
“On the contrary, I do not dislike
you, Miss Gladmyr; but I do not ap
prove of you.”
“It’s all the same thing. Your ideal
woman is a sweet, shy, clinging con
ventional little creature, who has
never been tested in the crucible of
the world’s fires. I am—oh, almost
everything your ideal woman should
not be!”
Lance laughed again. They were
nearer being friends than ever before.
thing of importance befell Oriella, she
made Lance the first sharer of her
secret.
“B9 sure and be at Mrs. Chaudelor’s
dinner—you said there was some doubt
about it—because I want to introduce
you to Mr. Jarvis Jerome. I have at
tained my ambition at last He is al
most a millionaire, and has asked me
to marry him. Of course, I gracefully
and gratefully said I would. 1 want
you to congratulate me. O. G.”
Those were the hastily-scribbled
lines she sent Levering; and Levering
thre v them into the fire with a mut
tered curse.
“What do I care that she has en
gaged herself to Jaivis Jerome?” he
questioned of himself, fiercely biting
his lip until the red blood sprung to
his pearly teeth. And then he wrote
his regrets to Mrs. Chandelor, and
packed a satchel and wtnt out of town
for a week.
When he got back he went straight
to see Oriella and congratulated her.
“Oh, don’t talk about that now.
It’s old!” cried O iella, impatiently.
“Why, I’ve been engaged a week. I
want to tell you about Maude’s April-
fool-day party. It is the fifth anni
versary of her wedding, you kuow.
We’re to go down to May Croft—there
are about forty invited—and to have at
King and Queen of Folly, and a Jester,
and all manner of fun. You’ll go ?”
“Yes,” promised Lauee, and he
went. And while the carnival was at
its behest some one proposed that just
before the unmasking took place the
host and hostess be remarried. A
young clergyman, a chum of Ned San
born’s was among the guests, though
not among the maskers, and a wed
ding would be just the imposing finish
needed to the revel. In a minute a
place was cleared at the end of (he
long salon, and arrangements made
for a grand ceremony; and presently
the bride in her white satin domino
game in on the arm of a gorgeous cour
tier, followed by another white satin
domino, and some dazzling April
fairies wreathed in crocuses and glitter
ing with rain drops.
The cortege tdvanced to its place,
and the two satin dominos stepped for
ward and quietly assented to the cler
gyman’s questions, and were pro
nounced man and wife. Then the sig
ual was giytn for unmasking, and—
Lance Leveriug and Oriella Gladmyr
stood looking into each other’s eyes,
her face growing white as that of a
corpse.
As Oriel’s color died Leverin^’s
grew—to a dusky, passionate red that
darkened face, nec k and brow , hut
presence of m nd did not quite desert
him. He caught Miss Gladmyr in his
strong arms and swiftly carried her
across (he hall and into the opposite
room.
“Oriel! Oriel! Don’t look like that,”
he cried, kneeling boride tbe sofa on
which he had placed her. “For God’s
sake forgive me I I had no idea it was
you—Ned wanted me to change
dominos with him to play a joke on
Maude. It was only a juke—all a
joke! Oriel, will you speak ?”
“Bring Maud here—it was all her
fault. 8he made me change dominos
with her for a joke on Ned J” said
Oriel, beginning to recover herself, but
keeping her eyes averted from his
anxious ones.
“But I want you to tell me you be
lieve me! That you forgive me,” he
insisted.
8he turned her gaze fully upon him
now.
“Of course, I must know it was a
joke, that you had no idea of what you
were doing. 1 have implicit failh in
you.” Then she commenced to laugh,
her pretty, mocking, musical laughter.
“Just, to think of you marrying me!
There is Maud at the door—let her
in.”
He hesitated a moment. “I want to
say something first. I am mad, no
doubt, but I must say ff ! You are my
wile, Oriel—just for now, uutil the
joke can be undone—Out— I—I wish T
could keep you my wife forever.”
He uttered the words hurriedly but
with a vehemence that was like the
throbbing of a mighty sea, and all his
eager, mad, soulful lore burned in his
eyes bent pleadingly on hers, Oriella
knew he meant it. And as swiftly as
a flower unfolds its fair face to the hot
kiss of the sun, she lifted her golden
head and leaned it on his breast and
let him register his marria, e vows
upon her lips in fervent caresses.
And then—a minute later—Ned and
Maud were in the room, overcome
wi h remorse md anxiety.
“But it is all right,” announced
Levering, coolly. “We are married
and we only await the congratulations
of our friends. Come, Oriel, you are
equal to the occasion ? Shall we go
back into the parlor, and be congratu
lated, and let the nine days’ talk take
its way ?”
Oriel put her hand on her husband’s
arm with perfect contentment, and
Maude and Ned looked on half dszed
with the unexpectedness and niceness
of it all, and society enjoyed the bit of
romance and gossip the affair furnished
them, and Mr. Jarvis Jerome was the
only sufferer; for a happier couple
than Mr. and Mrs. Lance Levering I
have never seen, and the only su> ject
upon which they are known to disa
gree is as to which of them was the
April fool on the eventful night of
April 1, 1877.
The Proper Time for Work.
The habit of writing and reading
late in the day and far into the night,
says The Lancet, “for the sake of
quiet,” is one of the most mischievous
to which a man ot mind can addict
himself. The feeling of tranquility
which comes over the busy and active
man about 10.30 or 11 o’clock ought not
to be regarded as an incentive to work.
It is, in fact, the effect of a lowering
of vitality consequent on the exhaus
tion of the physical sense. Nature
wants and calls for physiological rest.
Instead of complying with her reason
able demand, the night-worker hails
the “feeling” of mental quiescence,
mistakes it for clearness and acuteness,
and whips the jaded organism with
the will until it goes on working.
What is the result? Immediately, the
accomplishment of a task fairly well,
but not half so well as if it had been
performed with the vigor of a refreshed
brain working in health from proper
sleep. Bamotely, or later on comes
the penalty to be paid for unnatural
exertion —that is energy wrung from
exhausted or weary nerve centres
under pressure. This penalty takes
the foim of “nervousness,” perhaps
sleeplessness, almost certainly some
loss or depreciation of function in one
or more of the great organs concerned
in nutrition. To relieve these mala
dies—springing from this unexpected
cause—the brain-worker very likely
has recourse to the use of stimulants,
possibly alcholio, or it may be simply
tea or coffee. The sequel need not be
followed. Night wovk during student
life and in after years is the fruitful
cause of much unexplained, though
by no means imxplicable, suffering,
for which it is difficult, if not impossi
ble, to find a remedy. Surely morn
ing is the time for work, when the
whole body is rested, the brain relieved
from its tension, and mind power at its
beet.
A New Bleaching Process,
At the last meeting of the British
Chemical Society an interesting paper
was read on a new process of bleach
ing. The basis of the new process
consists in generating the chlorine
Which is the bleaching agent by tbe
electrolysis of dilute hydrochloric acid
or a chlorine salt solution. A low bat
tery power gave the most satisfactory
results in the experiment. The
method adopted consists in passing
the doth to be bleached, for example
Turkey red cloth, through sea water
between two rows of carbon rollers,
the upper row being connected to one
pole, and the under row to the other
pole of the battery. The rollers are
caused to rotate slowly, and thus pass
the fabrio from one end to the other.
Hypochlorite is formed, and on subse
quent immersion in dilute hydrochlo
ric or hydro-fluorio add the doth Is
effectually bleached.
Humor in Poetry and Prose.
A shoddy mill—A bogus prize fight.
It is impossible to cheat an Arab in
a horse trade; in other words you
can’t gum Arabic that way.
Repartee.
“Shall I marry the man that I love?”
Sang Pnilits, sweet Phillis the fair;
And the music went soaring above
A.8 If’twere her lavorite air.
And a voice calling out from the sky,
From the singer she hoped fco entrance.
Quite startled her with the reply—
‘She will if she once gets the chance,”
Shall I marry the girl that 1 love I”
lie sang on a subsequent day
Sang high in his attic above,
When he thougnt the fair Phillis away,
\ surprise came up from below,
An auswer his ardor to cool,
’Twas a little emphatic “No, no;
Not unless the girl, too, is a fool.”
A young would be wit in Lewiston,
Me., who attempted to chaff a half-in
toxicated lumberman, was greeted
with: “I mind my own business. I
know what you are. We make No. 3
clothes-pins out of such stock as you up
our way. You git!”
When the Frost is on the Punkin.
When the frost is on the punkin and the fod
der’s in the shook,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the
struttiu’ turkey cock,
And the clackin' of the gutneys and the
cluckin’ of the bens,
A ad the rooste r's hallylooyer as he tiptoeson
the fence;
O lt’B then’s the times a feller is a feeling at
his best,
With the rlsiu’ sun to greet him from a night
of gracious rest,
As he leaves the house bareheaded, aud goes
out to teed the stock,
When tbe frost Is on tbe punkin, and the fod
der's In the shock.
They’s somepln’ kind o’ hearty like about
the atmosphere.
When the heat of summer’s over and the
coolin’ fall Is here
of course we miss the flowers and the blos
soms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin’ birds and
buzzin’ ol the bees;
But the air's so appet.zln’, and the landscape
through the hi ze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the early
autumn days
18 a picture that do painter has the colorin’
to mock:
When the frostis on the punkin, and the fod
der’s In the shock.
The husky, rusty rustle of the tossols of the
corn,
And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves, as
golden as the morn;
The stubbie la the farrits, kindo’ lonesome
like, but still
A-pretcUin’ sermons to us of the barns they
groweJ to All;
i’he strawstack in the medder and thereaper
In the shed;
The bosses in the stalls below, the clover
overhead ;
O it set my heart a-cllckln’ like the tickin’
of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fod
der’s In the shock.
When the young man stepped up to
the soda-fountain engineer with his
country cousin, he said he would take
the usual thing, giving the engineer a
peculiar wink. You can bet the engi
neer was dazed when the country girl
said; “Well, that’s good enough for
me; I’ll take the same,” and gave
him the s.ime kind of a wink.
The worthy doctor, like so many in
his profession, believed firmly that
each climacteric period of a man’s
life is fraught with peculiar danger.
They happened to be talking of a man
who had just been guillotined. “What
age was he, eh ?” broke in the doctor,
“Thirty-five.” “I knew it. I told
you so. Every seventh year is a dan
gerous one.”
■ ■ - ♦ ♦ — ■ ■■
Weather Wisdom.
Some time ago a New Jersey man of
science gave the New Yoi k Karmers’
Club the following weather facts and
probabilities:
1. When the temperature falls sud
denly, their is a storm forming south
of you.
2. When the temperature rises sud
denly, their is a storm forming north
of you.
3. Ttie wind always blows from a
region of fair weather towards a region
where a storm is forming.
4. Cirrus clouds always move from
a region where a storm is In progress
towards a region of fair weather.
5. Cumulous clouds always move
from a region of fair weather towards
a region* where a storm is forming.
6. When cirrus clouds are moving
rapidly from the north or northwest,
there will be rain in less than twenty-
four hours no matter how cold it may
be.
7. When cirrus clouds are moving
rapidly from the south or southeast,
there will be a cold rainstorm on the
morrow, if it be summer; aud if it be
wluter, there will be a snowstorm.
8. The wind always blows iu a cir
cle around a storm, and, when it blows
from the porth, the heaviest rain is
east of you; if it blows from the east
the heaviest rain is south; if It blows
from the west, the heaviest rain is
north of you.