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STEPHENS & CO., 1 Proprietors. J VOL. VI. SCiWlirs’ § rjrartiami Han o> if> liunt, . . ■ mwi. H* . V *!.,• #An< • rtr ftnr r oa . tribulon: MImAmMiR. RiJICST, Mil Du. Wll.fT. “ M. A. CilFiiLL, “ Kate Tmrrt, “ V. A. Jnvino, “M. A McCr jimof. •• Sailih A. lUhit, “A. T. I). Ciiai-x*', “ 11. L. lUimv, 1 The Daunted River. BY MA BY I. WRY AS. Far down where Ihe shadow? most gloomily fall, And the wizard winds arc wuilit:;; Where the willows droop like a funeral pall, And the long pray mojj.c is trailing ; ijß*Me no flower may bloom and no bird may broo H fmrvrr. he Vultur** 11 *i■* his *l.rk wing, Or the gloomy dcuth-owls shiver; Kite dawn in this lonely volley of shaded Where ghostly moon-benm* quiver, Sullenly, luggishly through the glade, Floweth the hntintcd river; • Moaning like In a troubled dream, As on its black tide lb wet It, And a legend wild of this haunted stream, The way-side peasant knoweih ; A story that tells of a former time. When its waves were bright and golden, And its dancing k* j>t merry rhyme With the birds in the forest olden ; hut one night the si udderingstnrs lurnedpwle At a deed of guil* and honor, And the waning moon, in a cloudy veil, liid her pallid face in sorrow. There was one low mo.tr, despond prolonged. And a voice n.o* hushed foTev .-r, And t tru-ting heart betrayed and wronged, b;ty cold ‘ninth tit • fu.-eM livtr. Amt At., -*-• ).•• s * ar* rrtitin Is blond, and the Mood is human, And the liman that it echoes agnin and again. I* the cry *>l the dying worn’n. Hut the muni rer fl -d with crim* nted hand*. And no vengeful foot jnr ued hint And h* w widen'd awiy to distant lands. And tin sluiUs ot lortuue w>/l him. D ,t the vengeance of (bid i • just an 1 true, And sleeping, or waking ever. A spectre, with wounds of cTitmon hue, Haunted his thoughts forever. Amid the crowded marts, or pleasure's whirl, Though he well and brnvrli bore hint, The face of that wronged nt.d nmidcred girl Uoe tenifully before him, Aid once, lit the ‘-Inge .f i\ n : k ht of .-term, At dawn a forest ranger Discerned on the t-lmre, the lift lest form Os a pale and dark-haired stranger. They put hick the locks of raven hue, Still wet with the chilly water— And a gray haired man among them knew The betrayer of hid daughter. From hid distant home, from the smiles oflovc, By that haunted spectre driven, He had chine at length, to this sjt t to prove How true the vengeuauce of Heaven. He sleeps on the hank of the lonely Mrer.ni Where the breexoless poplars quiver Where falleth the starlight's pallid gleam, And inoaneth tlie haunted river. Nannie Hay a. One nielli I met at u wedding party, a? fail face as ever Mutinied this side es Echn. It belonged to a yotinir girl ilirn riglitccn years old. f?he was dressed in white with a little wreath set tastefully back upon'her sunny hair. The purity nl her dress scarcely excelled that ol her complexion, and there was a glad, Crank, innocent girlishness about her—such as is not often seen among sash e nable reigning belles in more aristocratic cir cles. 1 was instantly attracted by her countena ice, and circumstances most kind to meet me, afterward threw us much together and enabled me to study her character. I found, that in addition to her beau ty,ihe'posscssc 1 a mind endowed with • hat rarest of qualities in a young and flattered girl, viz : good, sound, common sense, fcjhe had only amo lento share of vanity, and although, at times, she might be led into innocent iodise.elion, she was never wilful, haughty, or heart less. Tier cheerfulness was uniform, and did not depend upon the excitements of a gay life for its development. I liked her —l lilted her vfry much in tired, and my little room was often cnliv til by her presence. I can hear her step, even now, upon the tbreshhold. I Mil, iii imagination, see h> r blooming face peeping through the half open door, and can hear her c'.car, soft, voice, aiding; “Miss Kate, eau I cmne in ? I've got so much to tel} you I” and then, in her ani nwlj lAhdrSer, wj!J H-Jatv* to y/c fPeeKliJ ffmmuib---limited to pews, ipiteratiue, and -Ittenres. povtknltnve, sr. ‘some amusing incident, trivial perhiqs in itself, hat borrowing interest from I lie graceful mirthlulness of its narrator. — All through the Christinas holidays this eenc wns enacted again and again, and 1 wut, i -1. m H ,|| !*•■( ■ wl*”**’ 11 ’ itluiu u indispensable things to my enjoyment as little green cases in my winter life. A* ihti spring came on, however, vre saw less of her. ami much to my/ regret, weeks went by without our once catch ng a glimpse of her pi. asr.it face. But at length she came into mv room one night She was jurt frun a party, atfd I thought looked paler thin tts'.i.il, and n little depress tl in spirits. 1 said, “are you well ? ” and she re ! plied “y* s,” hut aftet wards, eoneeted herself and said, “no 1 have b* en sick; M;t didn’t want me to come to town to night, hnt 1 fold her it wouldn’t hurt me. I wanted to come. I am going to >taj with you to-night, and .0 nmrfow I shall he as fresh as ever” Ilerinannet w* uld have dissipated all fear, had 1 been inclined to entertain any, for she aft 1 rwarcls spoke of her illness as trivial and temporary When l parted from her the next morning, she said, “you'tuns’- come and see me very soon —if you do not I shall .send for you.” Ala.*! dear readet, no prophetic vniee wh.spnvd to our hearts then, of approaching dissolution. \\ e did not • e the grave which was yawning 1 • lor the reception of all of her exquisite loveliness. She went home that day, ! took her bed, and never rose from it again. Strange fancies thronged thickly upon her 1 eforc vigorous brain. Some times she imagined herself lying on the 11 ••//■/ clny and begged her friends to rc | move her —sometimes she dreamed that | she was away from home, and begged to .In* taken to the d:tvh \T of her la'h*r - , mof-trer to die. . r iie vrv the I* e“S • f !iho absent and and ad thrmging around her couch, and then again .‘he shrunk auay from her best fro nd-.', with fe r and ’ frcmldinj. And so she c. tit .lined, r.n :1 ’ the lamjrof life went nut. She received ‘skilful tiled.cal aid. b it. .v is nit iu her j physician's power to save her. 1 indeed ■ ltd I wed her parting injunction, and went lio see her *vtry sou but it was al':* r life had departed. Th. re w..s no glad cry from her lips at my approach h r lovely face was no whole 1 I e s:i*n Htsii ling thr u_li ces* ment or door—and when l took the thin, pah* lund from Mi ! In r slir ti led bos mi, if was cold and gave j no pn sure to tny jwn. Ah! what a frail, uncertain thing :s this that we call hum 111 ///> / It Will not do to calculate up its endurance — to boast niirsilvis of tomorrow, for we know not what a day may bring forth. — To d;i\>the blooming fiee is under the coffin lid. It will never peep through my 0| cn door again—it will never come to me in mirthlulness or sadness. f shall never beer that sweet voice—f*r it is 1 now -i.iging, l hope, among the angels Spring is here with its nor-, but 1 an sad, fur a flower lies crushed and wither rd in my pathway. “ Mi.! opening blossom* hr w* withering : Bui thus liras ever, with the pood and fair, The loved *f Heaven. Krc yet the hand of 1 Bare Bpnti the snow brow hath set hi* al. 1 Or Time’s hoar frost ciunc Ij.oi to bl-meh !;. .* h .ir, • They fade away, and ’scape \v!i t otlo rs feel. The pangs that pas* not hy the wounds that : never heal.*’ Let us say, 44 it is well! ” For one ‘ I would stand . reverently, hy the grave of “earth’s Inst loveliness,” with my linger upon my lips, and toy right hand upon the altar of faith. Arc w< not all here proping daik’y amid the twilight shadows of no immortal day ? . That face may rise upon us ng.ii:i, Mir rounded hy the undying hrightnr.s of :i holier and happier life May it b-am upon Hit’ t least, ngl ad we'come from the l golden arehwny of the Celestial City. c. w.’u Live I rmiiiiTi.Y. — The poor piitanee of seventy years is h .1 worth being a vil lain for What is it if your neighbor lies in a splemli'l tomb ? Sleep you with in nocenee. Look behind the truck of time; n vast desert lies open in a re tr spect ; through lh s drrert y.mr lathers hive juurneycil; wearied with tears and sorrows they sink from the walks..f mall, i You must leave them where they (ad, ami j you are tun a little farther, u h re you j will jj.r J oterua! r..tt tST GEORGIA. IVEjDNESD AV MA V i7, 18G5. |_WKITTES run THE coe*sio ] AT REDWICK Vrb. di/i, ISo 7. Mamma has pone She lelt on the four o’clock train, and 1 am established in wtmt la ao he my homo tor * year. What a long da this has been to me ! And how many things have happened ! First the hurry and hustle of leaving the hotel in M—, before light this uiornihg; then the swfft ride, jiast fields and streams and woods ; and about ten o’clock our arrival here at tins beautiful Uonwick, whe: ‘ 1 am to board with .Mrs, Hrmwell, and go to College. Mamina wanted me t,. he with her because she was one of I’apa’s old Funds and would be kind to lne.- Four Fapa ! 1 hope a year’s travel -will make him strong and well. 1 think I will like this place—that is as we!! as 1 would anywhere away from home. 1 never was from toy parents before, and, oh ! how lone 1 feel ! I suppose I am homesick —it seems as if Mamma had been gone weeks instead of hours. Hut 1 must say aln ut mv surroundings. Mrs liranwell lives n a handsome bouse oil ‘Cherry street; the side door of the front parlor opens into a flower garden which must he a delightful place in summer, and which is. eviii n w, sw.et with the scent of violets, and I noticed a winter rose in bloom down in the far corn. r. In the centre nf the gar den Is a summer-house where l think 1 would love to sit in dune and read.— “Shirley” or “David Copperfield.” Just beyojul the parlor door which is shaded hy a honeysuckle, is a little porch lead ing into the library. It would be plea a"! to be out there on amoonliglit night, with the garden in bloom, and untie from the gr. at piano io the parlor floating on tide S-dt a.r. The College is on this street, about a quarter of a mile farther on.— And now f r the people; ill T’ depends on tin to than on the pi .ce, as far as hap | .11 ss is colic rued. Mrs. ISranweli’s fami’y consists of hrisell', a soil and ilanghtir - Richard mid Kate. Richard resembles his mother very much—-I don’t think 1 ever saw a more striking likeness, though he is quite tall 1 should say six fe. tlir*e, and the is about medium he ght at and wdiSt toy f i licit teacher would call emhn niut, just as I love to sec old I idles look. I know I shall like her; I think she end my dear pret'y Mamma — 1 can say this here, because the is dear and preity to me, and 1 would not like to ■ay it to : ny one else: 1 was going so say I thought they must have been brought up iti the same school, though they nev er met each other till today. Fhc is kind, and cordi J, and motherly, and I would rather stay with her that) with ni v one cl ein the house. K ite struck me at first, as being peculiarly interesting, lor she had such a beautiful light for a moment in her eyes; hut as 1 saw more of Ircr, she seemed a rather imperious and somewhat self willed girl of eighteen. 1 will always thn'tik Mrs. lirainvoil f.c the way she treated me when Mamma left.— ‘‘he Could not stay any longer, for Papa's physnuan has advised inimedia’e change . f air, and she is going with him from Io nic. \\ h n■ he iold me good-liyo and hi s* and me, I did not want to cry, and with difficulty retrained my teats; hut when “lie cmne bit k aliei she had gone to the door, and held me close in her dear arms, and called me her “ darling child,” 1 could not help it; I v.oultl have cried if it had Been President Ruehanan that was standing on tlie piawz i. And tin n instead of telling me not to cry, which is always sure to make matters worse—and trying to console me, Mrs. liranwell brought.me up lu re room, and alter a lew kind w.od.-*, she shut the door and went oown stairs leaving me alone, just us I wished to he For some time I did nothing, hut lie in tears on tlm s >fi, and think of Mamma and Papa, and my dear home hnt 1 had to rouse myself. I found my room to be comfortable and even luxuri ously furnished ; I always hud an eye for pretty furniture, and all that 1 had teen m Mrs lirunwell’s hotisc was beautiful; 1 was satisfied with mine from the tasteful window curtains and pretty be<J, to the soft e. .pet and bright rug an I the little boiler hy the wood-box, just us Mamma always had fi- me. Then there was my low chair, and my big rocking*eliii and little footstool all as comfortable ns could he, and while 1 was beginning to find some pleasuio in the thought of being j smiglt domesticated, suddenly it came to me that Kate would share my room, an 11 “A PEOPLE'S EDUCATION R A NATION’S BEST DEFENCE” l thought that wmJ IRj oil nil l know 1 mu.-t go down t“ s j per, mid 1 dreaded it. very much. I thg*iglq f wouldn’t mind stajing iu Ren me If if 1 could just remain iu my room nil al-*..c or ‘with an occasion al visit fivi V.r :-•'£ ;vell But I brib ed my hair and sat down b lure the fire waiting in dread for them to send tor mo. At la>t, jnst a* I I id hopt'd, Mrs. Bran well l \va? afraid s!.c would sen*! Kate- and Mimoh r-v i felt bolter than* I had expected : sh talked cheerfully on the w i to the dining room, and gave me a seat by h r, right i.i-xt to the r>!Tc< p"? which had always been my seat at home Kate hid very little to s.iv to me, hit Richard was gonial and lively, and nli. r tea, he raid so many things in snob a droll way that l fou’id myidf laughing before l knew it. And then when bed time cimc, and Mr.v liranwell told Kate to bring me Up fctaii\s, I felt so relieved when she told me tliat her r >om wa,- just across the hall fn :a mine, and it I wanted anything to let her know, i lelt very grateful to her, ami I ixp et 1 f olishly expressed my gnUJiudo in my ftiee, for when 1 leokt and up at her (she is taller hy some ii.clos than 1 am) site had such a odd bar l look in her eye* that l could* not say anything. I found a large tub of warn water ready fir or.c to bathe after traveling, which l have done and lo i very much refreshed. Inm now dres>ed in my night g ovn and douhtc-gown wri ting in tny j nin',al. I don’t wish any one to know that ! nm'krO| ii; on \ Soind my (ir t rtcord in Uenwiek ; [ won b r with what feelings 1 will write my last! r\h O'A. * % I got up i Rilou ns my fire wn na.* ‘ this iiioniing, and h id said my prayers and read some in the Bible, aid was ready to go down, 1 ttnp .euvd my trunks and arranged tny cloth* s in the bureau drawers, got out. my hooks ail plac 1 my Utils w* rk box on the table, and if I had h nl my birds to ham/ up iy t!: * win low my little domain would li.iyo ItJoked very Inm-like. Biek! I w n b r Imw h • fares without me to feed him ! but Mamma will t ike cart* es h in, 1 know. W hen J had done ;.il this, just t pass oft* the lime, 1 t k a p’e v of cake front my trunk and wat eating it, when Nanny, the girl, uho waits in my room came tip to sw* if I was ready f t hr* ak fist. ! gather tin* cuke t had in my hand, and went down. A Iter break Lot byth Mi . Bran well and Kate went with me to the L'olleg*, and staid till after prayers My lessons wire assigned me, and I'm g\ul that 1 have enough to keep mb busy ; it will sue me IVoui thinking too mueh about home. I l tliink I sov’ my way here pretty id arlv —how I am to r>nss my dine. I will read oi study from the lime I get up till break fast which i* ‘at ! all’p v. eiirht —the school b il ri;gs at nine, and I will be away til twelve; [ wiil c-in * hone to dinn r, an liau* r c .s til *.\v , wl.i.di time I exp-ct to spend in ivadlng m .e thing inti r- sting, a id not the history ol 1 France. W c are u.‘smif-ed f r the day at lour, and Iwi ! sit with the family t.ll , aftet t. a, when I wiil e one np here and f-tu ly till hed timi*. Mamma wants me; io he very stu lious, ‘,'*d I d*.*;. t think a g rl ever hud a m rt favuruldo opportuni ty for acqtiiring an educition. I have u ‘thing to interrupt me, and if I u t*d aiy assistance away fiom school, I have, only to Call on Kate or Kitfhaul. I think they all me in to let n* ■ Imve mv own way. but it seems tint I never will get ac quainted with Kate. Be; haps its my own fault; I have never been in society, and know nothing of its ways. 1 have only j Mamma’s teachings to go hy ; she is all i the female friend i'vc ever h id, as there 1 are no girls of my age in our neighbor hood. And us to gentleman, leaving out the respectable heads of families for some miles around us. I am acquainted with my teacher Mr., ltains, and Jane - ILudaJ, the only scl mol mate I cerliao before T Came lu re. James is a good t hoy. and l*apn and Mamma like him very * much. They have never mentioned such j a thing to me, hut 1 think tiny would; Ii!. c fur us to fall in love with each other,! and marry s om? day, as the young people 1 do in novels when ths.r par* o s have ad-’ joining plantaii jus. iio a.-kofl *<ic the ex titling before I bit lorn*, it lie might write to ii c. Iti iiaid is the only other g ’tilictnan I know, anti he is Very diff. r *ut from J ones and Mr. Baines 1 think lie is very luiidsoni’ sometime t; he 10- k e*l almost a* well as Kate to night when he Mood holding the do.r open fr us t pass out ; hut l mint net h* writing of him in tny journal. I would like to kn >\v i something about t*m>m Bt v em* 11 ; tiny ‘spoke of her tonight and UitfhurJ told me 1 ought to see hVr and hear her aing They naked me to play and 1 did m l* .cause Mamma sa\> I must t- >t wait f. he begged ; then Richard aske 1 mo to sing saying he liked s mgs li. tter than iu**tn mental pieces. I was afraid .‘o sing af ter they h.a*i been talking about Laura, hut then 1 thought it made no differ *nee ; that I was nothing (v them an 1 they were n thing to me, and if i did mv 1” si to plea: c them ynd failed, i: did not. matt, r much ; so l sing the j two bieh ir l called for when 1 had finished it. lie laid, “ Thank you ! Thank you very much!” hnt In* did not I.k as well as Kat* th it ; she l.nd that strange soft beauty in her eye* that Ui ikes her so chnrming while it la ts. Bhi* playe 1 tor me. but did not sing. I think 1 would hive to have Kate for tny friend if such a thing Were possi ble. She came and sat with me awhile to-night before she went toher room. We talked with apparent ease about the (\d lege, and the town, und the lon l wind and mv st dies, but all the tima it seemed to in-’ -“Here we sit—two young girls with only th** length of the rug h<'tween us. and yet we arc n. far apart as the poles ; wc can never now each oilier.’*— She is a -duly to mo. S!ic reminds me, in appearance of my poor cousin Fr ink’s “young Juno” that he use*! to talk s* much about. 1 wonder where in the wi*i world he rests his hnnepome head to night. I v.i! ;.v\.r forget how sal he looked [ ui.en lu *v ! laugh and jest the day lie can.* to tell Mamma go **l bye; Mill Irss will l forget his. la.*-; >v r*U to me - ‘when you grw up ti he a woman he very i kind t > the man that l ives you.’ But I ; must cat some of my cake and go to bed; 1 1 wa .ted to offer Kate some, hut she vr uld not do so trivial a thing as to cat Cake jus! at he 1 time. /*/>. I *//. 1 have been in Itcnwick nearly a Week, and in the time have become to some ex tent acquainted with Laura Bnimnielnud J sie Hay. 1 was at school the first tin;-* I saw Laura. She and Kate were on the side vv.dk, opposite my window. ‘ and 1 :skcd the virl wlio sifs next to n** who she wa*. Her umwer was “Miss fiiiun Bnimmc! -isn’t slo* pretty? She 1 is called the next to the pretti-* t lady m t ivvn ” “ And who is the pn t‘i* **t ? ” 1 asked. * Miss- lv *t* Bran well. >f course ; **vwry | ’ body say sso ; oh! hi *s a qu(***n. M i. s s Laura is engage'! t,, |, e married to Mr. Bianwell, and h * —” but one of the teacher- vr.is coining over our way ami tny neigliboVs alten<ioii b*** .mo smldeuly rivit-’d on her book. And that was whv , Jiramreif, wanted me to see and h ;.r h r s’tig ! Th t. hy* the Wav, wa-[ ulv tin 1 h.'.e ever heard hiiiij /. Mss. Bran well au*l Kate eall him Richard, and. as for me, I have nev- ; er had positive c.*?esjtiti to address him hy any name. Ijcnira took tea here last | : . bt end *at till bed time. I tfiink she i : ■(j i:r. a f.tv • ‘!;*■ with the f.ioilv. for Ivan* Is oft iter with he:* t!; f. any on cl a*, and .dr.-. IT mi.wdl calls her *Be *r,’ ami of Course Fucliar lis loud of Ib r. I liked Iu rto i Im ay s.iy t liked lo rvn ry much SS,e pretty, has very b.ue eyes and soft light cut I* somewhat shorter than mine.’ Her Lie * is *diil l.sh iu expression and she j .*] c* not lok.inuc!i older than l. Then , she is natural and cry in mauiier, and , talks so svve fly 1 1 don't blame any hoily for falling in love with In r. And I heard her play and sing, and could have 1 is- i tent*. I much longer to her clear silvery* notes and Richard stood by the piano and turn ed the music, and looked vtry proud and , hippy. Thin she asked me to aing, ;ml ; selccto l pice after piece, fur i\U' t n 1 was/J kin) enough to t*il Kate,.loud cnouglt io’ me to hear, that 1 hid the sweetest! v.ue** she ever heurd. They all treat luc like a cliild hero; Mis. Biaii ‘c'.l tells me to go to Ih6 safe and get Houicthing to eat whenever I am hungry, and she giv h me a lunch to take to school, and sends me up pickles and to..fc>d cheese and cake to Htu ly on at night. And people 1 th.it come here use no ceremony with me. Laura kissed my forehead and twined on** of my curls on her finger, when she thank ed me for hinging. Tin y don't know how old I am, for i do not look like I was nearly • x f *. it ; and then it \a plemunt b) bo pet.’nt i if I may call it so, though I ilia not expect anything of the sort after 1 left M.iuint.i Kate is ;\ l>oa util ill iceberg, but she R.el'sn little for Lnura,just enough to give us a glimpse of what she might hr, if >he only would. Krhnrd is kind to me, an 1 notices me fully ns much as could he expected under the circumstances. In deed, if I were in his place, I would have n i e\e for any one but I.::lira There is nothing noticeable about Jessie Kay unless it be her peculiar way of fay ing ‘nos;’ ‘yes-s-s sc/ and that and ‘no* :lc about :* 1 she ever “does say. She Is very modest, has very regular features, and hair always as smooth as a satin rib bon ; then she is perfectly neat in her wli -o appearance, though at a mere LiUncc any one might expect * Yes s s sc* to issue from her expressionless lips. My teacher tmJ Mamma that I was a very chwo observer for my age, and would easily learn to read character. I think 1 should like to be able to read Kate. As i tbr Jo-s e -she i*. 1 imagine, almost like the reading on a blank page; yet Kate say many people rave for hes beauty.— {These pickles are so nice f ) (TO UR CONTIS CRD. ) roil THE COMPANION. REVERIES No. VII Strange t hat I should meet her Miis morning, my cousin Saline, whom 1 hare not seen for more than twenty years.— Seems that s m ‘thing occurs each dny to lead my thoughts away into the past of twenty years ago.* Ivo noticed for s ver.tl days that the pretty cotta-.-o, with the straw colored blinds, ha new occupants. I pa* it in my mwieng rumbles, and frequency Mo** ’ | to admire the pretty little (lower garden !io front, its sw t honeysuckle and white 1 j !>mine running over the latticed porch | This morning n> i was walking along the smooth, gr >s< grown. I cist bordered idewalk, stopping ii nv and then to ad miro a tree or a flower, l reached the , neat white paling tout bounds this pretty 1 yard, I stopp. <1 mi l leaning over tile low , railing, cnj* < and the beauties of the gard -1 cn. Fro •■ii l l \ I hoard ehi* lisli \o’e s from a pretty summer b -u-e on one side which was covered wnili the svv.p\iug and droop ing trumpet \ in 1 . ‘1 he voices grew bu I 1 or, and a smut r >\ li:tle fellow of sunn i nine sumin is rushed out of the flower I wrcariu-d opening, ‘Lot's ask mother,’ i lot’s beg her ! ’’ mid dashed down the ! walk tod ovo l by three others, one of ! them, the last ti nt leit tlie little arbor, i girl perhaps fifteen years edd, walked ;vi iy leisurely and wu the aisle, and eallwd to the L.tie one- to cease their no’,4c.— * hear, dear m*l Hurry, can’t you be qi.et ? I shall certainly tcdl mo:In r when Nil.’ com s that you would not obey me j <>u know \\< i! enough that she isn’t here,, * ‘ I I V. : miij rogue. Fine | ivlei.se t g t ,li I s;i> Harry 11,.1t I I shall must cor- j t litiiy inform mother o* your c induct i a> the urchin went careering over nicely m ide be Is. driiayriog afu r him a little i kitten fastened with a cord. I lifted my hit very politely, quite; ir: 1 \ dTit t! ’ s'uitnl of my own m tug. — ! By tli-h tiin * th* little J’ellovv be! reach 1 the gate, rtonl uiorning buddic, won’t you fell me your name?.’ at the same! time putting out my hand, kindly, lie lifted bis bright eyes to my lac*, • M\ name ? certainly sir, “Iks Harry 11dt Musoil.’ * Why*, my little man you have my name.’ * • 4 Have l ! Well I am’n imcd fr a cous in Harry Holt I h ive never r.ccn: my ninth rs C'U'io; h r name was Saline Maishu.l; but she ran away from her un cle, old Mr. Holt, and mirrii-cl my Father Frank Mason, who is a moh Captain.’— Yc.H, this was the entire history summed! np in a few woids hy this blight little tel-j low. Jut as I to k the little chubby hand, wlr.rli grasping a cluster cf honey siickleH an 1 roses had been thrust through the “poning in the paling, -1 heard u quick springing step behind me, one that l would have recognized among thou sand. 1 turned and confronted the uno 1 had known as Saline Marshall. “Why Harry Hot!” she exclaimed, extending both ot her neatly gloved liund*. 4 1 am very happy to meet you again, c Hisin Sulim.’ 1 answered as L returned Ik r greeting. 4 (June right in, Harry ! ’ she criod in her old way. • (Joino iu and lot qfl ( ONK DOF.LA R SIX MON ! lIS. ) Invariaih.y in Advance. talk over oi*l times;’ and passing through the open gate she. moved briskly up the walk, accompanied by myself, and the group of children in the rear, open ing wide their mouth and gap.’ g evpic .s their wonder and amaz> et t She led me through a straw m.*;;<d 1.a!., into a pleasant sitting rootu, with its hang ings of green and gold, pointed to a large arm chair, which 1 immediately took pos s’ss.on if while she took its exact coun terpart opposite tny own. And sitting there with the sweet spring wi’ds lifting the curtains and the fra grant breath of flowers stealing through, cousin Saline and I wandered through tin: past 1 told her all, she did the Mine. Truly hers has been an interest ing littly htory , lutfining here in my old easy ch *ir I c*n weave a short story or Reverie out if it. (’"Usin Saline Marshall was fljy I'ather’a w.*r l, tlc only child of an only abler. Left an orphan at the ago of ten, she came to our old home, (just one week ni ter golden haired Fannie wa* placed un d*T the will *w boughs, j and became us uric of us. S!o* and 1 *, Ft: c*f t i -.n ev* t t ‘ thi same month and day ’ thcrcibro great play mat s. Hlten has Saline oftcied to receive the punishment instead of myself, she could not hear to se** Hurry chastised. Now and then wo would qiturnd and dispute as to which of us could climb a tree or jump . ditch with more dexterity than tho ot’nr. ‘frilly Saltire, was a strange be ing vvi:h lur petite, wiry * rui, and elfi&li lock**. At last bather sen her to boarding school, and wc saw lnrou . *u. . v t tioij. Still we were firm fn evening ut twilight, as we were ;auntrr* i*H down the long walk t*>grther, I asked her very übrufiv if she hs*l ever yet ‘fal len in love ? 4 ln love! pshaw ! there is no su. h thing is/"ir Surely Harry, yon do not believe in love !’ And she shot a • lance at me from In neat Ii her heavy lashes. Jnsttlicn wo reached the old g ile, an 1 leaning upon it, looked down th th.i led b.tic. Directly a tiny white i afCfl fltitt* ro*l to ur feet I st).)}x*d to tub? it ujt, iv len Sa in** h istlly pushed me aside exclaiming 4 lt is mine, it ia mine!’ .And added in a calmer manner as alie took it u,.. * F was only my hand kerchief that fell,’ lit the same time slink* king out i:s delicate old-. She soon excuse i herself and h. stoned towards the house. About midnight I was awakened by tho tinkling of a guitar, and the sound of a rich niellov voice sin Jug 4 Come o’er the the sea, love.’ The f-crena b* wns c rtaiuly intended f-r ‘aline, nbc vv s tiic only young lady in the hutis *; but who could be the serona dcr? ! softly sprung the blind, and peeped cautiously through. A tail commanding figure was leaning ngaiust one of tho vine vv re a thud pillar* : and together with the clinging and sway ing vines, moon light and ..uitar the x- tus vv *’ quite picturcsqn The first song < >ur, ide*l, m*\ came tlie lively strain ‘We re a otloit, we're a float,’ followed hy several others, then c ime ‘ O come o’er the moon lit •€*/ at tho close of which smg I heard a blind gently npeuc-l, ii white hand Wns for a moment thrust in the moonlight, a bou quet fell ut the 8* r(nad* r’s feet, the hand withdrawn, the blind as quietly closed ns opened. Tho singer eagerly lifted tho bouquok from the floor, kissed it raptu rously and walked away. Who could it be ? My curiosity was stiongly excited. Saline cut* red the break fust Twin tho next luyniing, looking fre.-h and spark ling. A few moss bu Is were fastened in her hair; but at her belt were morning glories, find wild hone}suckle. 4 l fiavo hd delightful walk, have hern to tho old mill,’ she exclaimed, as she took her neat at tho tabic. N\ hen asked if she hoard and enjoyed tho serenade, ‘The serenade I Let mo think, yes, I heard it, but was to sleepy I enjoyed it but very little/ und began to butter her roll most industriously. What a oreuture she is! I thought. llow innocent she cun look, when the known nil tho time,who it was. 1 think she has the m.st. expressive face in the world, She chii express anything she wills. SUc, then kK>k<J a little child, with that NO. 1<).