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8 YOUTH'S DEPARTMENT. k Bed Time. Rosebud lay lu her trundle bed, With her small hands folded above her head ; And fixed her innocent eyes on me, While a thoughtful shade came over their glee. “ Mamma," said she, “ when I go to sleep, I pray to the Father my soul to keep ; And he comes and carries it far away, To the beautiful home where his angels stay ; I gather red roses and lilies so white, I sing with the angels through all the long night ; And when In the morning I wake from my slaep, He gives back the soul that I gave him to keep, And I only remember, like beautiful dreams, The garlands of lilies, the wonderful streams.” [Little Corporal. - *«••• ENIGMA. I am composed of 18 letters. My 1,2, 8, is a drink, My 2,3, 5,7, is a metal. My 3,1, 9, is a part of the head. My 5,4, is a sharp edged instrument. My 6,5, 12, is an insect. My 8,1, 18, 12, is one of the cardinal points. My 11, 10, 13, 8, 14, is an animal. 1 My 14, 8, 12, 16, 9, is a boy’s name. My 15, 1, 17, 7, is a part of the body. My whole is the name of a distin guished Southern statesman. Answer next week. m _ a Answer to Last Week’s Enigma.— Jefferson Davis: Javron—Eider—Frades —Fear—Ene—Roda—Senne—Odessa— Noss—Dover—Andria—Yana—lnn—Se ron. To Z. P. Sandersville, Ga.—Your answer to No. 1 was correct, but the an swer had already been published before yours was received. GRANDMOTHER’S STORY. BY MINNIE C. FINLAY. “Grandma, was you ever a little boy like me ?” “No ; she used to be a girl, Tom! — didn’t you, grandma ?” “Yes, dear, a long time ago, I was a little wee girl, and played with my dollies and my playhouse just as little Lulu does now;” and grandma heaved a deep sigh, and pushed her gold-rimmed spec tacles up from her wrinkled forehead, to the infinite amusement of a young juve nile who always hailed the going up of “grandma’s glass eyes,” as Tom termed it, as a signal for a story. We older children were sitting around the window, watching the feathery snow flakes slowly floating downward, and daintily settling themselves in the cracks and crevices, when the above remarks called us hack to consciousness, and eager to listen to one of grandma’s oft-told stories, we with one accord crowded around her easy chair and patiently waited. “Now, children, if you’ll all promise to be good, and to obey me, until mother comes back, I'll tell you a story you’ve never heard. The story is of my young lifo. I shall tell it mostly for your bene fit, Maggie and Belle ; the younger chil dren may run and play as soon as they tire of listening. “Well, dears, I remember, as though it were yesterday, the time when I must have been perhaps- six years of age. My father was a commission merchant, and my city home was in Glasgow, Scotland. How well I remember the old house! There, unless the houses are designed for rentage in suits of rooms, they are gen erally built like your Southern mansions, long, wide, and low ; such a home was mine. I remember it stood on a long shady street, with large houses on the opposite side, and a little plat of ground enclosed by an iron railing just in front. There were high-stone steps, surmounted by two tall stone pillars before the wide, oaken street door. “The spacious lobby, as we call our halls, was covered with what I thought the prettiest oil cloth in the world, and waxed until it made one dizzy to think of stepping across it. An arch, support ed by two more pillars, adorned the centre of the hall, and here it was my delight to sit and watch the pretty shadows the great lamp used to throw behind the big round columns. “The drawing-room with its heavy crimson banging, between whose folds I have often hidden from fear of being de tected in some mischief, f can see now. The tall mantled ornaments of green and gold, the queer upturned tables, and the strangely shaped furniture I never can forget. Our sitting room, with the pretty, bow-window, in whose recesses my little brother and I have butchered numberless unfortunate flies : the grand piano, whose notes I used to ache all over to sound, hut which emitted sweet melody only as my mother called it forth ; the open fire-place, with its dancing flume and inviting' warmth ; ma’s own room, with the great high giant-like bedstead, smothered in damask curtaining, and in whose downy depths l have so often teased awake my little baby-brother or sister, and from whence I oftener emerged head first than feet first. Do l weary you, girls ?” “Oh, no, grandma!” “Then let me not pass hv my own pet bed-room. The tiny iron bedstead ; my precious little piano, with its creaked tones and scratched surface ; poor instru ment, it served me well; every morning I was awake with the sun and seated at. my piano, ready to strike into whatever tune the first organ-grinder should sug gest. My little fable full of books—his tories, fairy tales and nursery rhymes ; how I used to pour over the pages when the daylight had melted away, and in fancy I could see the knights of feudal times marching in ghostly array through the burning embers of my sea-coal fire. Those were happy times, girls ! “Well, I had a country home, too. Every summer, my playthings were packed away, gipsey hats, long aprons, and great stout shoes selected instead, and the month of May generally found us at the sea-side. There were five of us, but I lived in a world of my own. “My seaside home was in a little stone cottage, with gable roof and pointed latticed casements, sleeping in pure whiteness at the foot of a high cmerald swardgd hill, with a hedge of sweet-scent ed hawthorne trailing to the summit, and moss-grown stone stepping places hewn out by the thoughtful hand of mother- Nature. Sea shells and blossoming prim roses lined the garden walks, while but a few steps across the road, down some rocky stairs, lay the deep blue sea, with its dotted sail marks looking like pigeons’ wings skimming up and down to the m*lody of the musical waves. “When the tide was out I would sit for hours on the yellow sand, and listen to the gurgling ripple of the silver waters as they broke at my feet, sending up their freight of weed and pearly shell to add to my treasure store. And when the air was heavy with storm clouds, and moaned in windy, weird restlessness, I loved even better than the singing ripples the wild, fury-lashed billows, with their snowy foam-caps leaping' like angry beasts to lick away my sea-wccd and shells from the top of my high rocky playhouse. And I have stood fearless on the beach, whilst the glaring lightning shot athwart the troubled waves, and lis tened in very rapture to' the roll of the echoing thunder as it mingled in awful tones with the everlasting boom of the restless surf. “Then away down the beach road, looming up above the sea, winding grad ually to the top of a high hill, opposite Ben Lomond, stood the forest, our favor ite ramble. Near the entrance to the wood, tented a family of gipsies, with their kettles and rush brooms, funny little tin drinking cups, and scales for the chil dren’s amusement. Many a toy have I bought there, and many a merry romp have I enjoyed with the little gispy chil dren. “A wide rocky path wound around the hill side, and peeping out between the clefts, blue and white violets nodded their fragrance at us as we passed. Lovely primroses blushed with a faint pink tinge among the green grass, and rabbits and squirrels leaped across our path in fearless daring. High up on the largest black rock on the hill-side bubbled my favorite spring, with its laughing waters, dimpled with modest kisses; here the bonnie birds used to drink at mid day, and in the morning the fresh sea breeze caressed the dewy fern-leaves un til they quivered with joyful gratitude, and shook the diamond drops from their feathery locks into the tinkling spring be neath them. “On the very summit of our forest crowned hill the most beautiful hawthorn heege lifted its pure garlands to the sun’s rays, and wooed the birds by its fragrance to twitter among its white blossoms all day long. There the modest daisy, too, with its dainty yellow hair and pink lips, bobbed its pretty head to the answering nod of the coquetlish breeze. From this spot you could look down on the calm, blue ocean. Here and there the smoke from some highland cot arose. The waves lay like molten gold in the light of the dying king of day ; yonder a white sail dotted the horizon, and farther out the slowly rising smoke from some toiling steamer whispered of friends separated and heart-aches. “But there, girls, the boys have dropped to sleep ; I must hurry on, though it is sweet to dwell among old scenes once more. When I was about .eight years of age, my father's business inclina tion led him to come to America. I was too young to realize the parting from home, and although my little heart was saddened, yet I soon recovered and en joyed the novelty of a long ocean ride and the sight of new faces. “We established ourselves in M , and 1 was sent to school. I was a strange child, and the new routine of school-life made me home-sick and miserable for a long time. I used to lie awake nights, and cry for a sight of the sea and a draught of water from my own sweet spring in the hillside. But even this was forgotten. I began to imagine my self in love with every little shaver who drew me on his sled or sent me a kiss verse. “I suppose I had a uew beau every three months from the time I was nine years old until I was eighteen. And dreadfully aggrieved did I fancy myself when my father dared to hint at the nonsense I imbibed by such imaginings. “Well, when I was nearly seventeen I fell in love. My father was dreadfully opposed to the match, and threatened to disown me if I dared to wed without his consent. I worried and fretted, and con cluded I was dreadfully brow-beaten. But Providence saw fit to remove the hone of contention. The young man died suddenly, and for Awhile I felt saddened, but youth is ever hopeful, and I soon re covered. “In a few months I met young Gray son, hut not to love him. After our friendship had ripened to intimacy, he made known his love for me, but I could not return it. Friends entreated, he im plored, but I was firm in my determina tion. So Grayson came to me one day when I was busily sewing* away on some girlish finery, and said— “ ‘Lizzie, I’m going away to a distant city. I love you better than life itself, but I must not be near you. Lizzie, if you can ever learn to love me, send me word.’’ “I felt strangely fearful. Perhaps I did love him, but quickly banished the ridiculous idea. Willie stood a moment, earnestly looking into my eyes, his own blue orbs swimming in unshed tears, but mine were cold and emotionless. “ ‘Lizzie will you kiss me just once before Igo ? A sister’s kiss ; I’ll wear it on my lips forever, and it shall he the sacred seal which shall prevent an oath from escaping my lips or the liquor glass from approaching my mouth. Kiss me, Lizzie.’ “I kissed him, and then hid my face in my apron. In a moment he was gone, and with his departure came the terrible revelation that I loved Willie Grayson. That burning kiss had searched out the depth of my inmost heart, and now my new found affection leaped and throbbed with every pulsation. But 1 would not tell him ; no, he should again ask my af fection—l would not proffer it. ; and as I thought over his proud spirit, my very soul seemed to die within me, for I knew Willie would never again beg for the boon already refused. “And so weeks and months sped by. Father and mother noticed my sad face with anxiety, but I was silent as the grave with reference to my sufferings. One night father came home, looking unusually agitated. After we were all seated around the tea-table, lie told us that Willie Grayson was lying ill of a brain fever in S . “ ‘Over-work has killed him, poor boy; he sought to drown memory in occupa tion !’ “ ‘Can he not live V anxiously asked my mother. “ ‘The doctor who sent me word, says he cannot live three days. Poor, poor Willie;’ and as 1 arose, half-fainting, [ imagined my father cast a reproachful glance at me. “Oh, the agony of the next two hours! I walked the floor and prayed and wept alternately. 1 loved Willie now with my whole soul, and to think that he must die —it could not, should not be! I would go to him, nurse him, tell him I loved him, and perhaps God would spare him to me. “Hurriedly consulting my watch, I found I had yet two hours before the night train started. Running down stairs I greeted my astonished father with — “ ‘l’m going" to Willie; I love him, have loved him for a year. The train leaves in two hours.’ “My father kissed me, and bade me pack up a few necessary articles. In due time the carriage drew up at the door, and I found father ready to accompany me. It seemed as though the carriage would never reach the depot; it was snow ing hard, and the horses slipped continu ally. At last we were seated in the train, and the shrill whistle told us we were underway. That journey of six hours seemed like a week’s ride. I sat in per fect agony. I saw Willie dead—alive; I felt him kiss my cheek, and then I thought he spurned me from him. “In the dim morning light, amid noise and bustle, we were driven to Willie’s hoarding place. A middle-aged lady met us at the door, and, in answer to father’s hurried inquiry, told us that Mr. Grayson was still alive, but only alive. “ ‘He is quietly sinking now, but during his delirium he had been calling continu ally for Lizzie !’ “Father explained all that was necessa ry, and with a sinking heart, I was ushered into that chamber of death. The dim, subdued light, the medicine stand, the figure of the wearied nurse and untiring physician, impressed me with terrible foreboding; hut summoning all my forti tude, I advanced to the bedside where lay in a death-like stupor my stricken Willie Grayson. The brown hair was matted over the marble forehead, the fever parched lips were half open, and one hand, thin and blue-veined, was resting on his pillow. Oh, how my heart yearned towards him ! The doctor came forward, whispered to the nurse, who left the room; he then came to me : “ ‘Miss Mitchell, my patient will pro bably arouse in a few minutes ; give him this sleeping draught two hours after he wakes, and then God will decide the re sult.’ “ ‘Oh, doctor, can he not live V “ ‘My child, I must do my duty; I have not the shadow of a hope.’ “Doctor G left the room and left me alone with death corning Dearer and nearer to my darling. Kneeling by his bedside, I clasped his hand in mine, and waited, prayed that he might yet he spared to me ; and when I had grown calmer. I watched his dear features as he gradually rose above his lethargy, and opening his blue eyes, fixed them upon me in a ration al gaze. His lips moved; I stooped to hear the faintly uttered name, ‘Darling Lizzie,’ then I knew what that earnest question in his eyes was, and I answered with the three little words ‘I love vou.’ “A look of sweet peace settled on his features and he seemed to sleep again. After awhile my father gently rapped at the door and I admitted him. Willie seemed glad to see him, but seemed troubled. Too weak to speak, he tried to motion for pencil and paper. I pro cured some, and father guided his hand while he scrawled the words, ‘Make Lizzie my wife; 1 have hut three hours to live. I would die happy.’ He sank hack ex hausted. Father looked at me, then at Willie lying there, with that beseeching look in his dying eyes, and how could he refuse in the presence of solemn death to join two hearts so long tried. Nodding his head in token of consent, father left the room. I knelt by Willie’s side and prayed. In fifteen minutes father and a minister entered the room. I arose, and with my hand in his, with the angels looking down upon us, and the King of Terror hovering above my head, wo were made husband and wife. I kissed Willie, gave him the medicine left by the doctor, and father.and I sat down and watched for death. “Six long hours rolled off the calendar of time, whilst I noted every feeble breath my husband drew. As the shades of twilight gathered around the sombre room, and the dying embers dropped silvery like ashes upon the hearth, my darling unclosed his blue eyes, not upon the streets of the New Jerusalem, but through God’s mercy, the angel of Death glided away upon his noiseless car, and Willie was given back from the jaws of the grave to my love and atonement.” Grandma ceased, and the fast falling tears proved how vividly the scene was impressed upon her memory. “Well, dears, I nursed my husband until he was able to travel, and then father and I took him home, and in two months afterwards we had a grand wed ding, for mother had always wanted a “big affair” at my marriage. But it was not so solemn as the ceremony performed at Willie’s bed-side. “Twenty happy years we li/ed together, then you all know how the angel of "Death came again, and would not be satisfied until he bore my darling away to realms of happiness beyond the grave. And now 1 know my Willie watches and beckons across the still waiters, and when 1 lie down to die my husband’s angel pinions shall bear me up and up, and on and on, until we reach the glory-clad brightness of the heavenly city.” WIT AND HUMOR. Ole Bull’s violin how* is studded with diamonds; but Ole originally studied the violin without any diamonds. Jeems Pipes, of Pipesville, says that Phalon’s FJor de Mayo, the new perfume for the handkerchief, is called the floral odor because it. is bound to floor all other odors. “Boy, did you let off that gun ?” ex claimed an enraged schoolmaster. “Yes, sir." “Well, what do you think I ought to do with you ?” “Why, let me oil'.” Red Bug is the somewhat suspicious name of a town in “Egypt,” Illinois, which lias just started a newspaper. The paper plays shy of the title of its native place, and styles itself the “Egyptian.” Because. —“Yes, Mrs. Miffiu,” said a visotor, “dear little Emma has your fea tures, but I think she has her father’s hair.” “0, now I see it is because I have papa’s hair that he wears a wig !” said dear lit tle Emma. The presiding mistress at a hoarding house “hoped the tea was good.” “Very good indeed, madam, was the reply ; but Jones, between truth and politeness, observed that “The tea was exccdlent. but the water was smoky.” A young lady stepped into the store of a merchant by the name of Wade, and very innocently said she would like to he weighed (Wade). ] am very sorry, said he, hut my wife will tell you that you are too late by a couple of years. “Jones,’’ said Brown, • “arn’t, you ra ther extravagant, dressing up that boy of yours in patent leather boots ?” “Yes, said Jones, “but it’s all for my own con venience, I’d rather do that than be ob liged to black them for him,’ An Arkansas Jury. —A Coroner in Arkansas, after empanelling his jury, said : “Now, gentlemen, you are to de termine whether the deceased came to his death by accidence, by incidence, or by incendiary.” The verdict was that “the deceased came to his death by acci dence in the shape of a Bowie-knife. An Irishman who had left his native country, and sought an asylum in Amer ica, because it was a land of liberty, was attacked on his first arrival, in December, by a furious mastiff. He stooped to pick up a stone to defend himself, but the stone was frozen fast. “By my soul,” says Pat, “what a swate country, where the dogs are all let loose and the stones tied fast ” Put it Down. —Never attempt to illus trate the true character of a man by quoting his after-dinner speeches. Any criticism is preferable to that. In our time we have heard the same man declare in many places, that each was the “home of his heart,” and of the moment that then saw him upon his legs, that it was the “happiest in his life.” A German applied to Judge S—to be relieved from sitting as a juryman. “What is your eexuse ?” asked the Judge. “1 can’t speak English ?” he replied. “You have nothing to do with speak ing ?” said the judge. “But I can’t understand good English.” “That’s no excuse,” said his honor, “I am sure you are not likely to hear good English at this bar.” When Sam Houston was President of the Texas Republic, its Congress objected to his off-hand, blunt speeches, and inti mated that it would he both convenient and respectful for him to put his addresses in writing. The next time he appeared in the chamber, he bore a roll of paper, tied with ribbon, and labelled in large let ters. He spoke with this roil in his hands, waving it gracefully with his gestures, and when lie had done, handed it, with a how, to the clerk, and stalked out of the hall. On being opened, it proved to he a roll of blank paper. John Randolph. —Randolph was iu a tavern, lying on a sofa in the parlor, waiting for the stage to come to the door. A dandified chap stepped into the room with a whip in hand, just come from a drive, and standing before the mirror ar ranged his hair and collar, quite uncon scious of the presence of the gentleman on the sofa. After attitudinizing awhile, he turned to go out, when Mr, Randolph asked him : “Has the stage come ?” “Stage, sir, stage !” said the fop. “I’ve nothing to with it sir.” “0 ! I beg your pardon,” said Ran dolph, quietly, "I thought you were the driver ” A Sad Story. —The saddest story that we ever read was that of a child in Swit zerland, a pet hoy—just as yours is, reader—whom his mother, one bright morning, rigged out in a beautiful jacket ail shining with silk and buttons, and gay as mother’s love could make it, and then permitted him to go out to play. He bad scarcely stepped from the door of the “Swiss Cottage,” when an enormous eagel swooped him from the ground and bore him to its nest, high up among the mountains, and yet within sight of the bouse of which he had boon the joy. ! There lie was and devoured, the | eyrie being at a point which was literally inaccessible to man, so that no relief could be afforded. Iu tearing the child to pieces, the eagle so placed the gray jacket in the nest that it became a fixture there, and whenever the wind blew, it would flutter, and the sun would shine on its lovely trimmings and ornaments. For years it was visible from the lowlands, i long after the eagle had abandoned her i nest. What a sight it must have been I lor the parents of the little victim !