The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, June 12, 1875, Image 3

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a revelation of beauty. Our poetical feelings were rather shocked at perceiving that some of our party had coolly seated themselves in the shade and immediately opened their lunch bas kets and began to discuss Sold chicken and bis cuit in the very face of Beauty and Poetry. But pretty soon we made the discover}’ that we our selves were most unromantically hungry, having Toad-Stools and Their Kindred. Books and Authors. ATLANTA, GA., SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 1875. The first place in the Popular Science Monthly Love Afloat—A Romance. By F. H. Sheppard, r. S. X. r T ■ • , at- a- a' Published by Sheldon & Co., and for sale by Phillips & of June is given to a lady. Aliss Youmans, who Crew. Atiauta. furnishes a pleasant little botanical discourse A story of love and of the sea—two themes with the familiar text of “Toad-Stools and Their that are always attractive. The opening of the Kindred. It is prefaced by an engraving rep- story is a little prosy and commonplace; but resenting a convention of the toad-stool family, when the author gets his characters and his in which Mushroom and his relations are shown man-of-war fairly out at sea. he is more at home, in the face of this terrible calamity that had be fallen him. and she had kindly but firmly said him nay. Her spirit was brave within her, and she hoped for bright things for them both; but she could not link her fate with his while this shadowed sky was above them, and nobly had she striven to do what was best for them both. And this was her*reward ! A cold farewell; no word for the weary, weary, coming years—no hopeful promise or tender “bide ye weel.” The world could not stand still for the sake of follow the example of our neighbors—with our faces fall-wards, however, for why cannot one gratify two senses at once, and drink in beauty at the same time that they enjoy a sandwich or a sponge cake? The luxurious Romans had music performed while they feasted, and choice ‘Twice ( oinleinned." paintings and sculptures in their banquet rooms. A question has been started among some of Well, we had the music of nature while we dined breakfasted at an unheard-of hour, and we were . , . ... , , . - auc -uuu i,uum uu. nimu um i U . .uc a.. glad to come down from the poetic heights and aS "“‘l" a gnarled tree- and gives us graphic weather-pictures, spirited her great heart-burden, and the seasons came „„„ probably m one of the damp, sunless forests of sketches of skirmishes with pirates off the Cuban and went; the winter drifted its wreaths of snow the West. Here are twenty-seven varieties of the coast, and lovelv descriptions of life and disci- across the old paths; summer came again, and MARY E. BRYAN, Editress. genus fungi, from the speckled, broad-spreading pHixe aboard a United States man-of-war in the toe^ldtom-stile^d sUnCardlla agancus muscanus like a Chinese umbrella, to days when Commodore Porter (then in his prime) Day remained unwed. The villagers said she the tiny, leather-like, cup-shaped excrescences W as the esprit de corps, and officers and men would always be an “old maid’’for the sake of upon the limbs of the old oak that shades the strove to do faithful work, “feeling that a mas- ttat reckless boy, Roy Mayburne, who had gone convention ground. ter s eye was upon them, and sure of the reward Camilla Day had swept and garnished her The small, microscopic members of the family 0 f approbation.” heart this many and many a year, and was true are of course indiscernible—such as mould, mil- When all the characters of “ Love Afloat ” are to the old troth, though it gave no promise to period rather remote in the history of our country’. Those cognizant of the present aspect of many of the Western States (particularly of Texas) and the changes that railroads and emigration have wrought in the last dozen years, will bear testi God, the Omnipotent What the dimensions of the falls may be, we never thought to inquire, being so absorbed in the contemplation of their beauty, but judging from my own feelings, I should say that the mony to the fidelity of our sketch, whose open- stream fell from a remarkably painful height; for The«~is some ve^'deTicate M.well"^“gorg^us ing chapter dates back only about fifteen years, in an unlucky moment, we were lured by the coloring in ^ varioug species of mushrooms> and which, running through a period of eight assurance that the view of the falls from above ^ the vivid gcarletj orange and mottled varie _ years, is supposed to have its conclusion about was much finer than the one we were enjoying, ^ haye mogt enlivening effect in the sombre the dry rot that destroys our timber and the rust stirring incidents of “love-making, fighting, left to her was her poor maimed, helpless father. and smut that ruin the farmers grain. Their . searching, hiding, fleeing and pursuing — of i a very child in his queer, odd manner minute mycelia penetrate into the tissue of plants hair-breadth escapes, treachery and bravery,— of dependence on his gentle child. , u j ,. . , . ... .. all pxeitintr enouLdi. but not told in the stale lhev were very poor, and Camilla could barely and Umber and disintegrate and destroy it. sensationaf stvle\ut simply and clearly nar- maintain them both by the work of her two will- >Y e should like to see the engraving of “ The ra t e d, in a lively, picturesque manner, and ing hands, that never faltered or grew weary of Toad-Stool Convention,” enlarged and colored, brightened even in its darkest shades by dashes heavy charge. She knew’ not what coloring . .. i i A.i .a -.1 a —a: flip fnfnpp minrlif m vn or life irli on liny o of humor, cheerfulness, and pleasant satire. Altogether, an agreeable book. six or seven years from the present time. The scene is laid in one of the many Western towns, almost cities, that have sprung up with the ra pidity of Jonah’s gourd beneath the steady stride of civilization, hardly waiting for the buf- and immediately discontented with what had woods where they grow. The pretty yellow’ before satisfied us so completely, we set about , , ,, , ,, ... .. , ^ J . chantarelle and the procerus, with its delicate climbing the steep sides of the mountain—my cousin, escort and myself. We began the ascent p araso ] stem and light top, is dainty enough for a fairy [For The Sunny South.] AT THE OLJDJTRA-STILE. EX MARX PATTON HUDSON. quite buoyantly, but a few moments’ climbing falo to disappear over the rolling prairies or the convinced us that the task was more formidable j ^ ^ scientific i— .ay. „ t_ ,1: v. i — a... j • a. • iv ai i— .1 —: i B * 1 Our acquaintance w’ith the toad-stool family, echo of the Indian's war-whoop to die out in the forest. than we had imagined. Halting for breath, we were met by a returning party, who gave us the encouraging information that what we had gone through was nothing to the difficulties that w r e were to encounter. They had themselves be- Tiiut Bonnet! Wlmt will Dr. Low do about that bonnet? Its claimants are numerous, and, like the descend- come discouraged and turned back, and they ad- ants of Banquo, “still they come.” Every mail vised us to do the same. Their advice sounded brings pretty missives from maids and matrons, like that of Faint Heart in “Pilgrim’s Progress,” bidding us jog Mr. Low’s memory about “that but like Christian, w’e went forward and met the bonnet,” and saying, “Would it be too much lions. I saved myself from falling by clutching trouble for you to hint to Mr. Low’ that pink is at friendly bushes. My cousin, not so fortunate, most becoming to my black eyes and hair?” or, fell and called Tor help, when some gallant youths “Would you just intimate to Mr. Low that blue rushed to her assistance. When at last .we face-trimmings art best suited to my complex- reached the top, were we repaid for our toil? ion, which is fair and rosy—cream and strawber- Not at all. The view was as barren as can be ries, my admirers call it?” imagined; all the satisfaction consisted in being We suspect that bonnet question has become able to look down and see how small the crowd a puzzling one to Dr. Low. He had no idea below appeared. Disappointed, we began the years am I, and Roy has been away from me these ten long years. He has a bonnie wife ere now, I am sure; and I wonder—does he ever think of the old turn-stile, and the jessamine path that we have walked so often together, and the willow tree over the old mill-weir?” She smiled a very wan, weary smile at the Southern ladies were so sharp-witted, or that so many would tilt for the prize in his conundrum tournament. He forgets how wide is the circu lation of The Sunnx South. W’e fear he thinks that conundrum—a bad egg; that he buys no more “ hen-fruit ” from his grocer, and that his descent, every faculty absorbed in trying to get down safely. This we accomplished somehow, and we cheered ourselves with the reflection that our curiosity was thoroughly satisfied. The cars were to leave at five, so we bade adieu to the lovely scene, carrying with us an sleep is haunted by a nightmare composed of a indelible picture of Toccoa, the bride-like and pyramid of bonnets. It is rumored that he has been seen in deep consultation with Madam , a first-class milliner on Whitehall street, and it is supposed he was bargaining for a wholesale 1 lot of ladies’ bonnets—say twelve dozen or such a matter, which, after all. would be a trifle for j his plethoric purse. And just think of the fern- I inine gratitude he would elicit, and the sqore of | hearts he would cause to flutter with happiness! ! for there is no evoker of female felicity—not even love, the lancers, or ice lemonade—that can call forth such a thrill of joy as a love of a bonnet. I A saucy, black-eyed sprite, who says she guessed the conundrum “first fire,” proposes to j settle the dilemma by propounding a “riddle” for Dr. Low to solve, and if he fails to do so in the next issue of The Sunnx South, why, he is to [ fork over the bonnet certain. Here is the enigma I she hands in: TO DR. J. H. LOW. My heart is broke, and you have done it By slighting my claim to that eggs-quisite bonnet; j But I will sing low, in sweet, self-denial, If you'll give me a chance by another fair trial. This time I'll propound, and you shall be guesser; So rub up your wits at the bidding of “ Tessa.’’ conundrum. A hundred and filty, if rightly applied To the place where the living did once all reside, Or a consonant joined to a sweet-singing bird, Will give you a name you have often-times heard. It is borne by a notable tradesman up town— By a lady whose music has won her renown— By a brilliant young scribe of our good daily press. Now. surely, the name, Mr. Low, you can guess; If n»t, you will please hand me over that bonnet. And own up that Tessa's the maiden who won it. the future might give her life, when her aged father was laid to rest on the little hillock by her mother's side, and she would not speculate on all this while yet the current of their lives should flow together. There were no idle hours for the tired fingers; work, work, till her brain grew half-dazed under the burden of toilsome days. “Nine and twenty years,” she soliloquized, one bright morning in the early May, while the He stood there, leaning his full weight against | robins sang without, and the lilacs’ breath came the old turn-stile, and looked down into the pure to her with a grateful sense of languor and re oval of the young girl’s face, with the wistful pose, and carried her back to the old days when ic, is very friendly, and dates eyes of hazel-gray, while the moon shone full Roy Mayburne had been her lover and she had back to the days when we roamed, bonnet in on the rippling bands of yellow hair that waved been so cheery and gay. “Nine and twenty , . ,, , ,, a , , t,i • i j a wav from the low white brow. She had said all T ’ ’ ’ hand, througn the flowery glades of Florida and had tQ sav _ and tbere was a lengthened gathered a museum of van-colored mushrooms pause , in which neither voice broke the monot- to range on the moss-bank of a favorite haunt, onous sound of insect hum and restless summer Not then had we read, as we since have done, of : l de - The river flowed on its murmuring way, , , ,, - ,, c with the mirrored stars on its silvery bosom, the girl mushroom gatherers m the valleys of Roy Maybnme tnrned away at last, with a _ Russia and France, tramping the fields to find dull sense of wrong, of hopeless, unsatisfied face reflected from the little mirror, and said the fungi that European palates consider so yearning, and set his face against the fate that softly: dainty. Still less did we dream of such a thing so full of bitterness and despair. At length “ You are not lovely now as then. Your brow ., . . lie said calmly, with only a slight ring ot the is not so fair, and the roses are not so many in as planting mushrooms and raising them for f eebng that swayed him stealing through the the cheeks that glowed in those happy days with market as you would cabbage, or of having ex- tones of his voice: the gladsome blush of joyous love-light. No tensive gardens of them under ground, as thev “I suppose you are right, Camilla, and know time for dreaming now: it*is too late," she said do in Paris, where they cultivate the mush- best the needs of your own heart. I am going pathetically as she turned away from inspection •'. . across the seas, and we may never meet again; ot the sweet face, sweeter far with its crown of room by lamp-light, planting the spawn in beds bld jqj nev er forget or forgive your injustice womanhood upon it—a crown of self-abnegation of stable manure. We have seen a picture of and your selfish pride. You may, perhaps, find and crucifixion of self—and went her way again these nnder-urmind wardens with their Ions another heart to love you; and then, perchance, of common work, baking, brewing, and the thou- , I , , w , I, ... you’ll measure that love bv the strength of affec- sand things that make no show in the dull rou- narrow, curved beds, dotted all over with mush- ^ ^ yQn have thrown tbis nig t lt so ruth- tine of domestic life. rooms, from the size of a pea to that ot a saucer. ; lessly away.” j Summer came again to the old turn-stile, the We remember our astonishment at seeing a bas- He took her cold, white hand from its cling- lilac path, and the quiet woman that watched ket of tree mushrooms gathered bv a lady visitor grasp on the old turn-stile, and held it for beside the flickering lamp of the human life . , . , _ . tt ai i i, , an instant m Ins farm, warm grasp, and then whose taint hurtling had been her constant watch tor her breakfast. How the household expressed sbe f ound voice to say slowly, and with no for years. But the poor maimed life was gone their disgust, and the cook declared the things stronger under-tone of passionate regret to tell at last from the frail, worn body of Camilla Day’s to be “ rank pizen !” But the lady quietly put of aught that stirred within her soul: last earthly tie. She looked about her, with few them in salt and water, and declared her inten- “Good-bye, Roy. We part here in the moon- tears, to know what best she should do and she light by the old tryst, and may you be as happy had no one to whom she might turn in this hour tion of eating them. And eat them she did; and as y 0U deserve.” of sore distress. There were debts on the old She was gone, along the white pathway where j homestead that must be paid, and she knew it lilacs grew and the jessamine was unfolding its would take the greater part, or all, to satisfy starry’ blossoms to the night. these claims; but the poor heart was used to Roy Mayburne did not turn away at once; he want, and toil, and hopeless days, and so it came stood* quite still for a little while, leaning his not to her so bitter as to one less, hardened to sliced plantains, was handed as,-’ Helped our- full weight against the old turn-stile. Low- the realities of life. selves and ate, and found them exceedingly nicer- roofed ’ brown and thatched, he saw the little The sale was the next day but one, and Camilla . , cottage in the moonlight—the home of Camilla Day had packed away the tew remnant of things The attention of scientific and observant per- i jy ay> the boy’s first and last love. Humble that had belonged to her mother, and for the last sons of this country is being directed to the though it was, it was still a home; and, having time, with the moonlight shining down on the mushroom as an article of food. It is found to never known one of his own, Roy Mayburne clear bosom of the placid river and the scent of be rich in nitrogen, and to afford a very good ‘J 10 "? 11 * ** a P aradl /®' He turned away with the jessamine boughs above her, she had gone ° i a • : that infinite sense ol desolation that a man can once more to the old turn-stile and leaned her substitute for meat. The country abounds m never have the power to feel but once—the turn- head upon the thin, worn hands, mushrooms, and their cultivation is easy’ and ing point in his life, that had just now had the “The old trysting place,” she said, “and I am simple enough Dr Curtis of North Carolina ’ sternest trials of manhood thrust upon it. There here for the last time,—for the last time in the informs us, in his communication to the Rev. C. was something in the witchery of the solemn moonlight calm, with the lilac scent and the ’ ’ moonshine, with its infinitude of peace and summer glory covering all the silent air. Berkely, that he has collected and eaten forty. beauty, its voiceless hush of perfume and glory, There was a strange mingling of unrest and species within two miles of his house. In his that belong not to the noon-tide of working life, peace that surged across her breast—a mystery catalogue of the plants of North Carolina, he has that awoke within his bosom a vague feeling of of silence and peace that her weak hands could , , ilia, • . ■ numb regret—of unformed, dreary longing for not reach down and fathom. Like a shining enumerated one hundred and ele\en species of that which now had goneawayfrom out his life— jewel, there was something clear and pure, deep edible fungi in that State, and he adds he has an d he bowed his head on his folded arms, while down in the waters of her present being, that not that only,—she deceived some of the rest of us into tasting the dish. We had forgotten all about the “frog-stools,” and when a deep plate full of what looked like fried macaroni, or fried beautiful, with her mist-wreath and her diamond crown of spray, smiling alone in her boudoir of living green. Lena. “Studies in Butter.” We thank our distinguished correspondent, “Otitis,” for these additional reflections upon this interesting subject: “Your article entitled ‘Studies in Butter’ ought to excite the interest and admiring sym pathy of all who reverence genius. Let Miss Caroline Brooks rejoice, for she has begun with the same material as the great Canova. “On one occasion, the lord of the village where Canova was bom gave a grand entertainment. Amid shining silver, sparkling glass and dainty china—outstripping them all in beauty—was the statue of a lion modeled in butter. It was so artistically done, that the guests could talk of nothing else. This was no work of decorative no doubt there are forty or fifty more in the the stars looked down and wondered at this vis- she saw afar and could not touch; but the stars confectionery; it was sculpture. The cook, the Alpine portion of the State. He laments the ion they had never seen before. knew, and the moon looked down anil no longei J „ * ; , ,, , .... , Roy Mayburne had won the love ot Camilla pitied the lonely life of the sweet, fair woman company argued, was far above his culinary pro- waste ot good food material in the neglect of Day severa i yea rs before, and since that time that lingered there under its silvery rays. She fession, and he was sent for to receive the com- the mushroom, and the unreasonable prejudice when she had promised him there, at the old raised her head and saw a figure she could not pliments and congratulations of the aristocratic against it. “Hill and plain, mountain and val- turn-stile, to be his wife, he had known no hope know, so long had been the years between them; TT ,11....,!, ... ... - , .... or aspiration but for her sake; and this was the but as she turned away from the old turn-stile, a guests. He came up greatly elated; but when ley, swarm with a profusion of good, nutritious q{ Ms long-cherished dream of the bonnie voice said softly: * he heard that, although his cuisine was good, his fungi, which are allowed to decay where they maiden as his help-meet through all the years to “Camilla, do you not know me—Roy May- lion was the cause of the honors being paid to spring up, because people do not know how or come. He had found her heart full of those fire- burne?” him, tie shook his head and said that he did not are afraid to use them.” He goes on to say, that ldde charities, sweet and broad, with a soul brave, She knew him then, but he continued as if he deserve the thanks of his lord. “when boiled or fried, they make a luscious “The wonderful lion had been made by’ a little morsel. The umbrella mushroom, in my opin- boy ten years of age, the son of a neighboring ion, is equal to the meadow mushroom. The peasant. The cook went on to tell that on the , stem, when fresh, has a sweet, nutty flavor, very eve of the dinner he had been confiding to Can- similar to that of the hazel-nut. Its flavor is so strong and tender, and had rested all the full- ! must have his say before she might utter one ness of his trust on the bulwark of her faithful word of answer. love. And this was the end of his dream ! “There have been changes in both our lives, He stood a moment longer where the huge Camilla,” he went on steadily. “I have deeply willows cast their shadows over the old mill- erred and bitterly repented; but I have come to weir and the little alcove there, where Camilla you, after all these years, for the sweet forgive- was wont to sit in the pleasant days, that he ness you cannot deny me now. I have served A Trip to Toccoa. Dear Editress,—We were tempted to join a party of excursionists to the oft-described falls of Toc coa. The skies were so beautiful, the woods so green, the flowers so fragrant, that we felt what m nch enthusiasm, poor Willis so charmingly describes: “ A lougiug to be away, Wasting in wood-paths the delicious hours— A feeling that is like a sense of wings." But the only wings one can take effectively are those of steam, and upon these we were borne from the dusty town, and whirled along with such rapidity that the car wheels caught tire, occasioning a slight alarm and some delay in getting them cooled. We reached Toccoa City, however, in safety. There was nothing specially attractive in this little village, and so we made haste to procure a conveyance by’ no means luxurious to take us out to the point of interest. After a short, rough drive, our Jehu set us down under a green colonade of trees, with the instruction “to keep the road a bit anil we'il come to the falls.” On we went, looking right and left, up and down, anil all at once, happening to glance up, we caught, far above through the green net-work, a dazzling gleam of silver. A few steps farther, and there, glittering in the sunshine, falling in one graceful sweep from the lofty ledge, was the falls of Toccoa. Nothing terrific or specially wonderful—only perfect grace and beauty—the crystal stream descending in one broad sheet, with its spray wreath above and around it, like the diamonil-broidered vail of a bride, and then gliding peacefully away. We looked and looked, thrilling to the loveli ness about us, able only to murmur “How beau tiful ! how perfect!” and to feel that if Nature was a real presence beside us, we should like to (steal an arm around her and thank her for such ova (the father of the boy) his perplexity as to a agreeable, that I am fond of chewing the fresh could see her, and sometimes stop in his tread- for it, toiled for it, and I deserve this greatest centre-piece with which to adorn his dinner- j stems.” mill life at the quarry hill, and watch the little of jail recompense.” ^ table. Little Antonio, who was by, offered to Mr. Berkely informs us that there are very “ ^t^X^ShTith'the chunty hh to' help him. He sat down, drew a sketch of his few varieties of unwholesome or poisonous feminine handicraft in deft white fingers, lion on paper, and then carved a large block of mushrooms, and that these may be readily told The memory- of that olden time, with all its butter into the figure that had called forth so bv their being immediately revolting to the shattered idols, he put away from his heart with ' ,. , . . ..... a firm, strong hand, anil walked briskly on. till he could see the church-spires gleam in the smell and taste. There are special indications “The cook having finished his story, Antonio— that point out the edible mushroom—such as who was in the kitchen waiting for his reward in the stalk larger at the base than at top. the ring the shape of some dainties left from dessert— being movable upon the stem, and the gills (un- was sent for in the parlor, feasted at the grand derneath part) being either white, pink, or pale table, and was not only regaled with cakes and purple. sweetmeats, but received that which, child as he In preparing them for the table, they should was, he knew how to prize above all the delica- be put for an hour or two in salt water before cheery light of the moonshine. The village was soon gained, and the dusk of the fields beyond lay swathed in the misty light of the silent hour. He had left life behind him, but he had a val iant heart within his bosom, and he had made his will to do and dare greater things than his The heart that had been so sorely tried by suf fering. which had well-nigh crushed from it the sunshine and joyfulness of olden days, was now filled with the most excellent wine of “the charity that vaunteth not itself and is kind,” and shone over the saddened face of the time-tried woman. She lifted her eyes to his, while the moon smiled down its knowledge of the priceless peace that love and faith had given her. There had been earthquakes, and whirlwinds that precede storm, and fire, in the tumultuous life of the wanderer; but the “still, small voice” of his better angel had guarded him carefully from the shoals and life had hitherto unknown. Despite the bitter quicksands, and this was its haven now—rest reflections that swept across his heart, he could Irom the passion and selfishness anil pride that not but say to his conscience that Camilla Day h ad so nearly wrought a desolation in his man- cies on that richly-furnished table. they are cooked. They are esteemed a great had been right in the decision that was driving hood. And Camilla's hands were no longer pow- “ Before he left the room, his lord, one of the delicacy in Europe, and are relished by many him from the old haunts to new fields and new erless to grasp the shining gem in the waters of Falieri family, had adopted him as his own. He people in our own country. Trattinich says of When he went aw ay lrom the little mountain j 1 ' 1 f ’ i T 1 t^lfntho 1 N. i . , ,, , , , . ’ village, and non# knew whither he had gone, he knew all about the dear lulfallment of the maid- was at once placed under the care of a sculptor the chantarelle variety, that “not only this same left word of f arewe n f or ber , anil he was too en’s faithful troth, though shadows had stolen of note — Tonetti. Two years later, Antonio fungi never did any one harm, but might even far away to know the sorrow his unforgiving over the patient face and the eyes were sad and carved for his benefactor two baskets of fruit in restore the dead.” silence hail wrought within her loving heart, or <!eep. The heart that had been swept and gar- marble. which still adorn the arches of the Fal- As the prejudice against the mushroom in this had dee P ened m the sweet “oiwiow^hLeawty the sLdows 8 fromtofX ieri palace in Venice. country wears gradually away, we have no doubt IU 'j ne bad failed—the great mine of Black brow that the waiting years had gathered there. “Among the many statues of distinguished per- it will be generally eaten and largely cultivated. Hill, where Roy Maybume’s father had grown As a toil-worn traveler comes to the home to his sonages carved by Canova. is one of George It is doubtful, however, if its cultivation will so wealthy, and’in which, after his father’s death, childhood weary and worn so the poor human ^ J •, • aZ v - j , . Rov had idaced all the capital that had been his heart of Roy Mavburne, trail yet gentle, came Washington. Some years ago, it was in the ever be earned on upon such a large scale as it “wn froVhis mother s dower. It came on the again to know the infinite riches of this faithful- State-house at Raleigh, ^sorth Carolina. is in France, where immense quantities of the young man lite a thunderbolt, that he was irre- ness of Camilla Day s, that was stronger than “Your correspondent, alas! is no rich Falieri, plant are grown for home and foreign markets, trievablv ruined. He made contracts with large death, with ability to foster genius; she is but an irnpov- in extensive caves sixty and seventy feet under Arms, for which he must become responsible, Fn and this would about take his last dollar. The money was not all. He had not only been erished ex-Confederate, with nothing to bestow ground, where the temperature can be kept save good wishes. She can only say to the youth- equal and the air moist. “An idea of the mag- stricken with this sudden incubus of povertv, ful sculptress, ‘Bon Espou,’and bid her God speed on heir noble career. Outis.” Fate has been kind to me and given me gold, and life has been strong within me to reach this reward I felt must surely be mine,” he said ten derly. “Again at the "trysting place,” and he leasierl his full weight against the old turn-stile; he took her cold, thin hand from off its clinging grasp on the wicket gate, and very pathetically Far gazing down the ladder of our deeds, The rounds seem slender. All jast work appears I'nto the doer faulty. The heart bleeds, And pale regret turns weltering in tears To think how poor our hast has been—how vain Beside the excellence we would attain.’’ for so-uetfi.u nitude of this business may be formed when it but the blow had also deprived him of some- is known that one proprietor has iusenty-one miles thing greater than this; it had bereft him of his » , ,, ,, . . . promised wife — Camilla Day. Henceforth he „ „ . _ . . of mushroom beds, another sixteen, another mUiit struggle on alone: no hope to illumine his an d solemnly the words came from his lips: seven, and so on through a long list. future sky: and the cheery tones of her bird- “Let us forget the past and live anew in the Robinson's book on “Mushroom Culture” will like voice—they, too, had gone from his life, and days that are before us; and let your love, that aive a complete idea of the wav thev are crown the woun d was*sharp and deep. No more tryst- A as shielded me through all these years, still ° 1 • '' ^ ' ing hours at the old turn-stile, when the stars keep me from all evil, and wrong, and sinful ana the different modes of cooking them. looked down and smiled upon the rippling river things. <— and their young love-dream. Shall we say that faithfulness has no reward, In no republic or monarchy is a citizen exempt But Roy Mayburne was not the man to make and the Good Shepherd no care for the meek r J r — — —c « :—:— of “the least ot these? In the abiding j care, the sun cannot set for aye breaking with its weight of grief, above the lives’of any one of His tlock that sees i and mother. He had asked Camilla Dav to be his wife then, an ^ iollows His guiding hand. L Never be ashamed to confess your ignorance, from the tax of befriending poverty and weak- ^idSi^^lbeU ofhis brooding" r the wisest person in the >iorld maj still learn ness, of respecting age, or of honoring his father his heart was breaking with its weight of grief, above the lives*o'