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For Woman’s Wobk. OUT OF THE PAST. By Lizzie A. Vore. There are hours in life when my heart is o’er whelmed, With memories sad and sweet; Os by-gone hours, in the long, dead past. And the friends I was wont to meet: When the rustling leaves and the murmuring breeze Speak to me soft and low; Ana the air is full of voices dear, Out of the long ago. When the gathering twilight, stealing round, Is alive with visions fair. And my eyes grow dim with sudden tears, For toe faces smiling there. Some of them have gone from the ranks of life, And they speak not of earth to me, But smile, and smile with beckoning eyes, ’Till my soul sighs to be free. And some of the faces that smile or weep, Are scattered far and wide. They come sweet vigils with me to keep In" the stilly eventide. Some, come from the snow fields wild and bleak, When the great storm king shrieks by; And the sea birds scream on the barren rocks ’Neath the desolate, leaden sky. And some have come from a warmer clime, Where the spice laden breezes blow, Or sighs through forest of pine,whose gloom Knows naught of the suns warm glow. Or softly sweeps through orange groves, Or stirs the whispering palm, ■Where the rose and starry jasmine gleam, And life is one long psalm. But it matters not from whence they came, They find a welcome in my heart. They come with the shadows—these dreams so dear. Os my life each holds a part. Dear loved faces, out of the past! Come to me, come to me, into my heart! For souls that are bound by love so sweet, Distance, nor time, nor death can part. Be ye from earth, or bright spirit land. Oh, faces, beloved! Sweet phantom band ! Come to mo. come linger in sight Till the twilight is o’er and we meet in the light. Pasadena, Cal. For Woman’s Work./ ONLY THE RANCHER S / DAUGHTER. ' BY GENIE ORCHARD. ( ‘‘"How many miles to Buena Vista, my good man”? “Five miles about, sar! and if you see on your way tbar, my gal Millet, say to her that Dick Daring is waitin’ at the gulch fur her, and fur her to come and not keep her pa waitin’ fur all night.” ' “Certainly, I will, but how shall I know your girl Millet? ” “Know Millet! why surely you must be a stranger in these bills—every man, and every kyote even fur miles about, knows Millet, or hearn tell of her! vhy she’s a beauty! and can shoot a buck as well as the best of us; but sir, she's wild and mighty self willed, but if gold can tame her and make her a lady, she’ll be one sure. Yes, sir, Buena Vista you’ll find about five miles in them tall hills over yon der Tell Millet I’m waiting” “Thank you, we will send Millet to you— that is if we find her.” The speaker was Macon Eager, who was in company with Frank Manson, both men on a tour of pleasure through the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. They had left New York, a month previous, and had traveled mostly on horse-back, through intricate parts of the mountains, where only the Indian, or the enterprising engineer dared go. The day was near its closing. The whole western sky seemed melted into a sea of gold, that plunged and writhed in waves of burnished light, catching in its billows the peaks of a thousand mountains, whose snow-crested brows caught the prismatic glory of the setting sun. Mount Princeton one of the highest {teaks ol the Rookies, towered grandly, ike a warrior clothed in snow, with a hun dred lances of gold within its rugged arms, while beneath and around,the lesser height* rose like a marching host. With every second the view changed; from brassy warmth, and clouds of rose, into brown and grey, with stern shadows and richest por phery tints. For several minutes the men rode on in silence, when suddenly E«ger halted and pointed beyond and exclaimed with entbu siam, “There is a view that surpasses the Yosemite, or anything in the Alpsl I’d rather pitch my tent right here in the val ley of the Arkansas, than spend the rest of my life in the Parisian courts. ’Tie easier for a man to be true to his no blier instincts, here amid all this natural grandeur. ’Tis easier to believe in a Deity— believe in Eternity, here in this forest of rock, where each canyon is like a passage way to a soul’s destination.” “Amen!” sarcastically cried his com panion. ‘’Eager, stop you cranky sermoniz ing, and come on. I’m freezing, man, and a view from the summit of Pisgah into the New Jerusalem could not stop me now.” and drawing close his collar about his face, he rode briskly forward. The two men who wt re congenial friends of years stand ing, were however different in temperment and character Manson was cold, selfish and satirical, while Eager was impulsive, gen erous, and enthusiastic. This dissimilarity, was a wedge that strengthened their attach ments, forming a friendship seldom of long duration, among those of mutual aspir ations and interests. “We must not forget Millet, however.” said Manson, “it would be just like y- u to go through the whole country seeking the girl, just to please the old man. Hurry up, Eager, my boy; I’m in earnest now. I’m numb with cold.’’and he shook his hands, to renew the circulation. Just then the air rang with a voice clear and strong, like that of some wild bird. “We stole the Red Man's home— And a Toinmv hawk big has he— Tral lai lai”— “That’s Millet sure—listen!” cried Eager. And scarcely had he spoken, than there above on a projecting ledge, stood a young girl, tall and erect, with a cloud of dusky hair floating about her. The buckskin jacket and crimson skirt, seemed suited to the rustic beauty of the girl, as she poised, like some wild, graceful animal, above the precipice. She saw the two strangers, and would have made a retreat but the earth beneath her feet gave way, and she came scampering and trembling almost at the feet of the horse. In a moment Eager was off his horse, and had the girl in his arms. “Poor child! are y->u hurt?” cried he gently, catching her slender wrist, from which drops of blood had begun ooz ing—“ This is Millet, is it not?” The girl broke into a merry, ring ing laugh, as she stood erect. “Well sirs,” she cried, “this beats all. How’d you know I was Millet, stranger? Everybody knows me, that’s what Jim Blay and Pa says, but they mean all the folks in the gulch, and in these hills and at the mines, but you two ain’t them sort.” Much amused, Eager listened to the rustic language of the girl, and taking her arm, he gently wound around it his soft silk handkerchief as she rattled on in her in nocent, ignorant way. “Eager, come on 1” cried Manson, who had gone on for some distance, and grown impatient as he saw his companion lingering. “I am freezing, and you are making yourself a fool over only a rancher’s daughter. I’ll wait no longer,” and surely he rode along. Millet struck an attitude of insulted dignity, and looking at the letreating form of Mansoil, pointed at him with the scorn of a tragic queen. “Only the rancher’s daughter!” she mockingly said. “And’ who is he? Some weak-hearted pale-faced coward, I guess. I would give the Indian yell and scare him to death, if he was not your friend. Whew! how he would run!” and she laughed the same ringing laugh that made the mountain echo, and that Eager thought the most beautiful music he had ever heard. “Do you mean that it is because you like me, that you will not make him think an Indian is pursuing him with a toma hawk?” and Eager pressed the little, hand gently, that he still held, a, d looked with genuine admiration into the up turned face of the girl. Millet looked him full in the face, and with innocent candor replied. “Why, yes, Ido like you. It is just about five minutes since I first saw you, but I don’t think I ever did like any one as well in all my life. You look so brave. Your eyes have a light in them like the blue i» the sapphire when y u hold it up to the sun. and your hands are so smooth and white; but it is not because you are so beautiful that I loveyou, it is because you were not too proud to get from your horse and catch me when I fell, and bind up my bru sed arm with those same white hands lam only Nliliet—a wild mountain girl, but remember that my heart is not too rough to be touched by your kindness. My lather owns mines and cattle. lean buy and sell again, I guess, the proud fellow with the pale face, who called you a fool for noticing me. If you ever want nuggets of pure gold, or ruby rock, or stones that your eyes are the color of; if you ever want cattle, or the finest horse that ever you rode, just come to the gulch and ask for Dick Daring’s cottage, and I’ll be there and I’ll divide with you. You can take “Black Bess” if you like her. Now, will you come with me?” What at first had amused Eager, now touched his heart with an emotion that made tears gather in his eyes, and awaken ed an admiration that he could not class ify- “My noble girl, your wordstonch me! Your generous gratitu le is more be utiful than anything I have ever found in the polished worldlings who would scorn you ! 1 will not accept your offers now, Millet, for I have wealth; but my little girl should you ever need a friend, call on me; this is my card. Good bye” and he caught both little sun-burnt hands in his own, and ’kissed them. She took the card and read the name. “Macon Eager, 44 Sth Avenue, New York City.” “If I ever go there I will be svre a id go to see you,” she said, “but I nev»r w 11, for I would not leave th' se hills £ r all the great cities except, to see you 1” “Millet! Millet!” and the air echoed with the name, as a sturdy figure emerged from’the canyon in the grey growing twi light, “Yes, Pa, I’m coming!” cried the girl and quickly catching Edger’s band she kissed it. and darted away like a phan tom in the shadows. Eager stood for some moments before mou' ting his horse and looked until the girl was lost to sight. “Well!” said he “she is a combination of simplicity, generos'ty, ignorance and courage. She is a medley of contradic tions, and with all—the most bewitching little beauty I ever met. I may be, as Manson called me, ‘a fool’—but I swear I hate to leave the child,” and be slowly mounted his horse and rode on, almost for getting bis companion’s anger, in the thought of the wild beauty and candid inno cence of the girl. When he overtook Manson a few miles from Buena Vista, Eager was silent, and his companions sneering allusion to the “wild girl,” grated on him. Had it not been an act of madness and folly, he would have turned back and followed the little figure with her crown of mid-night hair and starry eyes. Bathe dared not. In bis dreams that night, he sawhermount ed on her prancing “Black Bess.” that she so willingly had* offered him—racing through forests, chdbing the antelopes over the plains, and as ske neared a precipice he awoke with a cpy. That night and many more, be saw in the mists of dream land, the sweet oval face, and the little bruised arm, and felt the quick, warm kiss on his hand, but as the years passed, he ceased to dream, and the dissipation of his former life allured him o“, and he was launched in the current of a worldly career that is sure to petrify the heart, and darken the soul. ***** The gay social season was at its height in New York. The year was near its close, and the wealth and fashion < f the city were in a state of rivalry. Frank Manson was at most of the brilliant gatherings, court ly and polished in learning, he possessed a fortune that allowed him to entertain in princely style. He and Macon Eager had been called “ Damon and Pythias.” and other names denoting a devoted friendship of years standing, but, it was noticed tbit Manson was alone now.’ He sought naw companionships. It was rumored that the handsome Macon Eager had staked too high on a game, and lost. In a short pe riod of a few months, be drifted from wealth into obscuity, and in the vortex of fashion he was a lost star, soon forrotten, no one heeded, but the great world went on. while Manson moved into the upheav ing waves of prosperity, and popularity. ***** “ By jove! of all fellows, Manson is the most fortunate,” exclaimed one of a group at the Opera of Fra’Diavolo, where the most brilliant crowd of the season was gathered, and a dozen lorgnetts were leveled at the box where sat Frank Manson, who was bending, in evident admiration, over a woman of marvelous beauty. She reclined in graceful abandon, and her dark languid lovlmess, was enhanced by a dazzle of jewels, that blazed about her like ice bergs under the sun. “ Who is she?” cried voices everywhere, and in a moment this beautiful stranger who had shot like a meteor into the very heart of the gay, social world, was the object of attention. ‘She’s too dark,” said one woman. “ She has a languid abandon that is vulgar” said an other. But the men in unison uttered the verdict, that she was the most marvelous beauty who had ever dazzled the metro polis. From that night she was the tage. Millet Daring—the cattle king’s only daughter, and the heiress to millions, be came the queen of society. Her original vagaries, her dashing demeanor, her utter disregard for social amenities were all pardoned beneath her beauty, and her wealth. Behind a pair of jet black ponies, she could be seen driving through the park. While again she would plunge at Mazeppa like speed through the public drives. Yet her name was never sullied, even by the most envious. Men worshipped her. and in vain bowed at her shrine ; she smiled on all alike, and held in the tendrils of her magnetism, all who came beneath the influence of her witchery. It was said that Manson was the favored one. He, who had never before acknowledged the power of any woman, openly avowed his adoration for this dark mountain beauty—“ Star of the West” as she was called. One eve ning while Manson was in company with Millet, she suddenly exclaimed, “If you would prove your love, find my friend for me—this is his card, I have treasured it since I was a child in my far Western home. I have constantly asked those I met if they knew him, but they gave me no satisfaction. Will you Mr Manson, help me to find him?” And as she handed Manson the card, his face suddenly chang ed color. “ Macon Eager.” he exclaimed, “ where did you know him ? Once he was my most intimate friend and associate, but he became wreckless and worthless, so we have drifted apart, and he is only a B-.nk clerk now. You have o'ten heard me speak of my tour through your loved Rockies. Well, Eager was my companion then, and the most enthusiastic man he was. He raved over every thing he saw, from the sly Kyote, Io the wild mountain maiden. Why, one evening he spent an hour in consoling an ignorant, awkward girl, because she fell and scratched her arm. His soft, weak heart Was his ruination. But we waste time, my beautiful Queen. Tell me, will you marry me.and falling up on his knees he caught the jeweled hand of the woman he adored, and implored her by every phrase of affection and idolatry to return his mad mastering passion. A new light seemed to dawn over the face of Millet. “Oh! I see now ” she exclaimed, almost inaudiably. “Itis so plain—now— I remember” —and with sudden dignity she towered higher, it seemed, in her pride and beauty. A look of scorn came into her face, as she haughtily and mockingly ex claimed, with a wave of her arm, “ Rise Frank Manson,” you are making yourself a fool over ‘ only the Rancher's daughter.' “Go!” she exclamed, “my revenge is sweet and complete. When I was an innocent ig norant child in the cabin near the gulch of the beautiful valley of the Arkansas, when I fell wounded at your feet, you scorned me, and passed on in your pride and selfish ness. The heart that was so veneered with worldly garnish, was so unmanly, so contemptible as to desert the humble girl of the Ranch, is unworthy to touch the hand of the ‘Star of the West,’ the cattle king’s only Daughter.” And with the same silvery laugh, that had often made the canyons echo, and the wild beast calm, that same laugh rung down the curtain of destiny over the life of Frank Manson, and as he left the presence of the only wo man he ever loved, he went out into the darkness with a crumbled pride and a broken heart. ***** The winter was almost over. Millet Daring after a season of triumph that far surpassed her wildest dreams, was making preparations to leave the city, when, she accidently read in the morning's Herald these lines, that made her heart ceaseibeat ing a moment and her head reel. “The once brilliant and popular Macon Eagar, has been arrested for embezzlement. The banking hous eof Lyons & Son, in whose employ he has been for a year past, prosecutes him for the amount of eight thousand dollars. His failure to pay the amount will condem him to imprisonment etc etc.” ***** An hour later, a tall, veiled woman en tered the banking house of Lyons & Son, and handing a check to the astonished Cashier, said, “Accept this in payment for the shortage of money, of which you accuse Macon Eagar. Have him at once inform ed of his freedom from debt, and please de deliver to him the receipt with the enclosed. Writing on a slip of paper these words: “The little scar remains on my arm yet, and the memory of that noble, manly act, of five years ago, is still fresh in my heart. “The Rancherslittie daughter, “At the Gulch.” With this note she inclosed a check for an amount equal to that which she had left with the banker. That night a peace and joy stole in her heart, that all the conquest of her brilliant career had not given. The eyes with their sapphire light, had aroused the first aspirations to a life that had never known tenderness before. The manly soul, that is seen in small acts, as well as in great ones, met its re ward. And who can tell but that these two lives that met so lightly on a ripple of fate, may not at last have floated on life’s current into a uniting wave of eternal love. FINISHED WORK. It is unfortunately the habit of many people, and it is a habit that was formed in youth, to finish only that part of their work that is in sight. The part that is not seen is left with rough edges, or long stitches, or, if possible, work is only done that is seen. Years, centuries ago, in Greece there lived a sculptor whose work teaches us a lesson. A sculptor was employed to erect a statue in one of the Grecian temples, and on being asked why he carved the back part, which was to be set into the wall, wtih as much pains as the front, he replied, “ The Gods see it.”— From the Workman.