The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, February 24, 1877, Image 6

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(For The Sunny South.! general r. e. lee. DT SlltS. AMELIA T. Pt'EDT. France has her Bajanl. England thrills to hear The praises of their matchless «dney sung. When years shall circle round the sea ot trine. And rrrnitUs hare dif'-e aeh clime and tongue Shall ainc the later Sidney, and relate How once again Our Father crowned at '-nth And draped iu royalty, a man to be A natural king, a star to light the gloom. A moral Titan, throned on purity. For the whole world to honor. In these days America shall claim her girted son Revere his truth—the manhood seldom naeh* ri. The eagle nature whirh true laurels won. And therefore, and ere long, the mother sha.l Tell to the clear-eyed hoy updta her knee. Where drills the log rafts of the Kennebec, Of the stainless manhood, symholed lortii in Ln. The aloe flower, that in one hundred yems Was nourished into beamy in this clime. What Mont-Blanc is to A We, is J.ek to men. And his high fame shall live thro out all time. [For The gunny South. | LOVED AND LOST; —OK,— The Valley Mystery. j*y MRS. M. B. NEWMAN. n stranger, in this part of the country (luring ! nn*l he believed that bis nnele would gladly the shiners that holds me, ami I .jest believe in time, be pleased to remember that I m your the past two weeks—with dark ha/el eyes, dark 1 make all the reparation iu his power when an my soul if I keeps on, not even them can hold young lady, and when 1 speak to you, answer ai l-row n hair, fair complexion, and slender tig- ! opportunity presented itself. | me and make me keep her shet up in this place, decently as yon can.” nrP r’ Fontaine was impelled by two of the strong- ; If she would only rave and scold. I could stand Hugh signifies, his appreciation volubly, an« The landlord assumed a reflective attitude, j est. motives that govern frail humanity—love . it better; but jest to have her soft eyes looking his heart is as light as the down ol a thist.e. and, after a few moments’ pause, answered, : and interest. Henson, conscience, and nil the at abody so reprovin'-like, and never sayin’one ; One day late in autumn he is again her escort slowly: - better impulses of his nature bowed as stubble , single mad word.” and allows the young lady to take the tnituitiv* “ No: I remember seeing no girl like you de- j before these two ruling passions. He could not •• Yon are a white-livered fool, that’s what you in conversation; for since the memorable day scribe.” * I believe that a girl of Kate’s disposition, so : is!” would be his mother’s gentle reply. ‘‘I I of the rebnfl’, Hugh Scott has kept his plate, ‘•Then it is useless to question you further,” : sunny and genial, and constituted by nature to would like to know- which is better, robl-in’ and and troubled her no more with his "ignorant said Fred, in a hopeless tone. ’ j shine in society, could long endure to be ini- : stealin’ everything you can git your hands on, compliments.” The man glanced at Fred in silentwonder, - mured in that lonely wilderness, with no com- and waylayin’ peaceful travelers, or keepin’ a gal " Hugh, what a:ls your” asks Jane, kindly, nnd inquired, reflectively: , pauionship but the two nncongeni il beings in , a prisoner till she consents to marry a nice rich "Sure, you look more like a ghost than a human “ Was anybody with the girl ? " ! charge of her. lie believed that in a few weeks. ; man ? A honorable prisoner—them was his very ; creature.” »• j cannot sav,” said Fred. “A young lady - or months at most, she would accept him to es- : words—and I jest know we both treat her jest j “ Och hone’ he gasps. “ Sure, it s dying by living in lav father’s house disappeared very i cape from durance vile. He knew-not the power like the ground was not good ’nough for her to ; inches I am for the love of a quant*, more^beau- mysterionsly two weeks since. She rnnst have , that existed in that young life to eudure, gov- walk on. ‘•Well, I tell you. I rather make money any way in the world than to keep that gal here, ami make her marry it man against her will. Hut I am in for it, and there ain’t no danger, I reckon, of my breakin’ down, as long as l make so much by it.” •• If you keeps yonr senses, I thinks yon will,” his mother would say. " l would like to know what would become of you and me if you was to tnru that gal loose, and let all her friends know what you have been doin’. They wouldn’t think the penitentiary for life would be half punishment ’nough. They’d just want to hang us up without judge or jury.” “Come, now, mother,” Jake would answer, “they ain’t no use iu tryin’ to scare me by talkin’ sich stutl’as that; I ain’t so easy to scare; and if it was not, for that big pile of money, I would carry her back to her folks. I would, by thunder!” "No yon won! 1 n’t. neither. You think too much of vour neck i*<r that,” would be the an nul compelled to re- ■ swer. tnia, -r-d cannot again Confidential talks very much like this would Will von please describe her person and j have the pleasure of seeing you before the ex- often occur between mother and son when Kate manner, omitting no particular of dress, car- | piration of another month. riage, or anything that you think will lead me j “ I can but listen, she. an*-tvered, haughtily, to identify her, if she is the girl I am seeking?” j “I f, ] n your prisoner, sir. Well, as far as her dress is concerned; I am j “i? a y rather, I am your captive, my beloved.” been either forcibly carried oil’ by robbers while i erned by a will as strong as his own, when in ont walking, and held for ransom, or wandered ! the right. off while in a state of mental aberration and he- ! Jake, ami the man assisting him, had not yet come lost in the woods. I can form no other j succeeded in getting all the ston-s conveyed conjecture of her sudden disappearance.” j trout the wagon, through tire dense thicket down " She could not have been with an old woman : the deep declivity to the house, it was the and her villainous looking son. now ? And she 1 work of time and much labor, but the task was did not disappear the day we had such a heavy ; accomplished at last. 1 he man who drove the thunder storm ?” exclaimed the landlord, grow- ■ wagon departed, and Fontaine and his hire-1 ac- ing excited as there flashed across his memory | complice had a conversation, which resulted the strange trio who stopped in his house out of I satistactorily to one ol the party at hast. Juke the storm. j made bis demands and receive-1 the first pay- “ Yes; she was missing the very day we had a ; nient for his share in the abduction. Fontaine terrible storm, two weeks since, and it may have [ arose to depart, but first requested Kates pres- extended over this part of the country. But j ence for a few moments before be took his leave, why do yon ask?” inquired Fred, with a slight i Mrs. Benson found the poor gin crying bit- tremor in his voice. • but as if ashamed of her weakness, she “Well, sir, a red-faced, rough-loosing woman j brushed away her tears, proudly rose, !ol- and her son, with a young girl mighty like yon i lowed Mrs. Benson into the next room, and stood CHATTER XXY. Meantime, the wildest confusion had pre- _ o o vailed at Laurens Hall when it was ascertained i describe, stopped here out of the storm that ; before her abductor. that Kate was not to be found. 'Ihe condition verv night.” j “Miss Settop, he said, respectfully, “ hoi few articles of jewelry and her purse, containing it was with difficulty he could command bimseif i llU( l bni you good-l>y<L I a quarter's salary’ which she had just received, sufficiently’ to say: j f urn immediately to A trg being found in a drawer ot the bnrean, gave evidence that her disappearance was not pre- “ She has wandered too far in her walk nnd got lost,” was the first thought; and Fred, re- . companied by numerous servants and all the I afraid yon will have to excuse me; for, to save ; male visitors at the house, searched the woc.s j m y life, I never could tell whether a woman’s j in every direction. Mounted on his swift hooie, ' got on a calico or silk; but I know her eyes and j Fred then went himself to every house in the j hair were just like the girl yon describe; and j tiful than the morning star, or a mermaid, nnti who looks down on me, though she says we re all God’s children, and all of the same race and blood. It’s going to Ameriky I am, before I’m a cow Id corp for love of her.” “ What is her name.'’’ queries Jane, not vritL- out a suspicion of the truth. “I daren't tuiution her name.” he replies, groaning; “she’d kill tue dead wid her two eyes for me impudence.” “Do you mean me? You daren't, Hugo Scott ! You wouldn't have the temerity to hlz eyes to me -a lady, your master’s daughter !’’ e'ries Jane, in real or pretended anger, •*I couldn’t help it,” he groans. “Your fa ther’ll horsewhip me; but afther all, it’s your own fault, Miss Jane, for looking so handsome and sweet; no woman like ye/, iu a!! her majesty’s domains, includin’ lt- r islands, where the siu. never sets.” Oh ! Jane, Jane ! She forgot her high social position,,her patrician blood, as did Miss Boker of later times, and was won by ihe man’s defer ence and grief. “ Keep up a stout heart, and we’ll cross the say together,” she returns, softly. “It's s-n was supposed to be asleep. j awful come down for a Crawford, who have been Kate had not abandoned all hope of escape, '■ freeholders for hundreds of years, and will She had front the first determined to watch : 1-ring me parents’ gray hair iu sorrow to the every chance, and if an opportunity offered, j grave: but it's a matter of duty with me; leant neighborhood. Stopping not for rest or refresh- j s h e looked neat nnd trim, like a perfect lad}’, in meat, he pushed farther, until there was not a spite of an old shawl around her, which is more dwelling or a village within a circuit of miles , than I can say for her aunt.” that he had not visited, and where he bad not “Oh! she was with her aunt, then?" said instituted the closest search and strictest in- Fred, the brightness of hope dying out of his quiry. Wearied and jaded he returned almost face, leaving bint again pale and listless, in despair, and declared to his father his fear * “She was with the woman that claimed to be that Kate had been stolen by robbers and carried off to their mountain fastnesses; and once more please, and show sufficient gentlemanly 1'celin to address me by my own name.” “They come from my heart; but I will not anger you by repeating them. Yon are more unforgiving than I thought to find you, but I like you none the less for yeur spirit. If you ! grow tired of yonr captivity before my return, ! and wish to accept release on the terms I have proposed, a line given into Mrs. Benson’s hands j will reach me by a trusty messenger. It pains her aunt,” exclaimed the landlord; “but, sir, I j me to leave you in this dismal abode, but there no more believe that delicate, beantifni young j is no other alternative left me to gain my bride; he got together a number of the neighbors, and lady was kin to that woman than I am kin to j and I believe in the future my great love for you with the gentleman guests and the servants of yon.” will exense this act of violence, even in the eyes the household, they .explored the mountain soli- “ Did the voting lady claim any relationship j that now look on me with such scorn.” I tudes on every side. Three days were spent in ; with her ?” inquired Fred, hoping again to find ; “I have told yon, and now repeat, that yon this way, but without success. Fred’s anxiety a cine to the. mystery that enveloped the fate of ! may keep me here for years, and torture me till and wretchedness were plain to be seen in his his lost love. * ; life becomes a burden too wretched to be borne, gloomy and haggard face. Evelyn took n wicked “Claim her as her aunt.” No, indeed .' She j and my resolution will remain unchanged.” delight in his sufferings. did not look like she would know her own moth- | “ M T e will see,” was the calm reply. “ In that er that bore her. She appeared just like a per son walking in her sleep. She was as pale as a corpse, and stared straight before her with the blankest look iu her eyes you ever saw. The woman said she was half crazy, and gave her a sight of trouble; but it’s my opinion she was “ Reserve yonr fond names for those they may i slip ont of the house unobserved, anil make her ‘ Mademoiselle has only taken French leave, like all adventuresses," she said one day in his hearing. “ Doubtless she found herself on the point of being discovered amt thought it pru dent to vanish.” A look of contempt was the only notice the young man took of this malicious speech. Not once had suspicion alighted upon Fon taine. He had been zealous in his search lor Kate, yet in his usual quiet way; so that no one deemed his interest unusual, or thongbt that he was not sufficiently interested. After his first meeting with Kate, and her cold repulse, when into it, endeavoring to quell his excitement, he first pni/ie, trj. the valley, he had placed trunk,” pointing to the one Jake had hut re cently brought from the wagon, “you will find all necessary articles of clothing—or at least I suppose so. I ordered a dressmaker to supply everything needful, and I paid her bill without If you need anythin; way through ihe woods to some point, she cared not whither, so sho could only escape from cap tivity. But her \ igilant jailers watched her movements so closely she could not get outside the door without having them both by her side in a moment. And thus their vigilance pre vented her from attempting an escape up to the very day that Fontaine was expected to come. (to iie continued.) X ScotcJi-Irisli Mesalliance. SIUS. AMELIA I. »*nji>y. In a little town near the North Channel lived a farmer in affluent circumstances. " While- grass grew and water run ” the farm of ten acres and a neat stone cottage, with slate roof, would remain in the Crawford family. This degree of affluence recalls vividly the poem of Burns on the scornful lass “ Tibbie,” who, upon the strength of her fortune of “ three acres o’ peat.” walked by oblivious of the impecunicus poet. In a laud where the contrasts are as sharp as fractured glass—luxury on the one hand, and squalor on the other, the proprietorship of so have yonr blood on me head. And the Bibb, savs, "Thou sbalt not commit murder.” “l*oyou mean (hot, Miss Jane!’ Hugh rides close to* her side, in a fever of ecstaey. " Sure, you wouldn’t be so bad-hearted as to be trifling wid a poor boy like me, who worships th-- air that you brathes; sure, you wouldn’t, Miss Jane?” The town is just id sight. " We’ll be married right off, if ye plase.” says Jane, with cheeks like a rose, and looking heartily ashamed of herself. If I /-/-( he repeats, joyfully. "Is it aslape c-r awake I am ? a rale lady askin’ if it’s agreeable for me to wed her, an’ me not atin’ bit nc-r sup, and, for the matther of that, not slapin’ a wink for love of her. Sure, you’ll never repiut it, Miss Jane ! I’ll serve, ye night and day on me two knees: an’ it’s a glorious day whin a lady like ye/, gives up i*il the wurrnkl for love of the poor serving-man.” "Do you think I’d love the likes o’ yon?” re torts Jane, with the olden crispness. •• It's be cause I hate to have your blood on me head.” He smiles at the coquetry of the answer, an.I they return husband and wife. Jane stands he roically under the word-tempest her rash act has provoked. The man is not blamed; iu tact. _ question, it you need anything more, remem lying from first to last, and had been giving ber I am yonr banker, and will be only too that poor young thing something to turn her f happy to supply all your wants. I put in sev- snug a property made .Mr. Crawford the envy of it is commendable in him to advance himself as crazy.” I eral volumes of your favorite books, to help you | f-is poor neighbors. His family consisted of j much as possible, but they are positive in one " What did you do? And where did they go? | beguile the tedious hours./ I could not think j himself, his wife, grown sou and daughter, j thing: he must keep his olden place while under Speak out, and tell me quick! "said Fred, r is- ■ of yon, mv dar—Kate.-I./mean, so lonely nnd j The latter, u haughty girl of eighteen, pain- j their roof. To this unalterable ukase the bride ing excitedly from his chair, but again sinking ■ forlorn, without a boo ** 1 1 xl “ dull tedium of existence nere. i trust, wneu i : indeed, her very nose, as she gave it a toss now stands, as of old, behind his wife's cnair at the return a mouth h encftjfcu w i 11 have made up j an< i then, hau in it a suggestion of importance: table, and when the family gather, around th “ Be A'dj‘‘ nf . K ,fU ’, fttid I will J>>11 yoti^ 1 return a mom -rytuim- U-.it *r.Vseh, V; Sir us* i kclOkf, <vuilt a- * to one suspected liis attachment former/ they were in this house; for though I only saw • vide,’ in the person f any cause that would induce him to that helpless young thing.k* few minutes, she ; surround you with every M uctor. His apparent devotion to Fan- made such an impression on me, I remember j can procure, and make jqj stiong gu.uu over his actions, words and IooKaA^ ho that no one suspected his attachment for Jier,' or knew of be her abductor .. . _ nie Wright led all at the Hall to suppose he ' everything that happened that night.” ! sunshine. I will not defcjj loved this light-hearted beauty, and was making ’ The landlord began, and gave not only a min- ■ you not give your hand jt an effort to win her affection. He purposely j ute description of the girl's person, but related ; of friendship?” misled them ns to the state of his heart, and the conversation between the woman Benson j “Never! there can be sw us,” she replied, drawing j a movement as if to take her Land. had covered Lis footsteps so well, he supposed and the traveller stopping at the inn, and the the eye of man could not ferret out his dark opinions of all present, who talked over the up deed. pearance of the strange trio after they went Fannie Wright really cared for him more than their room. she would have liked to acknowledge, and sc- , “It was she!” breathed Fred, in a low tone. , „ . cretly wondered why he was so careful not to - “But why did you not attempt to detain impose no further restrain-|<JBAh&>young lady, commit himself by a downright proposal; but them ?" ” j only so far as to prevent bjf/.^jtsape. Be kind she was too independent to let him suspect that “ Bless your soul, man ! how could I, when j and gentle to her. - "sq.; she cared, and often laughingly remarked that they did not even give me a chance ?” exclaimed j “Farewell, Kate. Yon m Ay expect me in a her heart was made of such elastic material, \ the landlord, in his excitement forgetting his i month from to-day, it nothing prevents. ’ Cupid’s arrows bounded from it without any j dignity and the role he had at first assumed to- j He caught up his hat and went out into the impression. wards his wealthy enstotuer. ; darkness. At a short distance his horse was A gloom had fallen on all the inmates of Lau- j “ Why, did they leave without your knowl- J tied, and alter loosing him oe took the rein and rens Hall. They continued lor several days the edge ? " inquired Fred, again rising from his ! sought his way ont of the labyrinth that encom- unavailing search, and as no light was thrown | chair, and again suppressing his excitement by | passed him. After wande ring around what upon the poor girl's fate, all but Fred aban- j a strong effort of will. I seemed to him an almost interminable length of doned the hope of unraveling the mystery, and “I should just reckon they did ! They took j time, he at last succeeded io^reaching the road ceased their efforts. : French leave some time in the night; but they j that wound around the nisfpiain, and getting It was now about the middle of September, i must have moved like cats, to get out and I not j into the saddle, rode rapidly;, and wses soon far and the time of the purposed stay of Mr. Gor- j be any the wiser.” ! away from the jungle in wht.'.h he left his cap- don's guesti had expired. With feelings of “But yon said they traveled in a cart; and ! tive. relief they bade adieu to their kind host and j how could they have gone over the rough roads his family, and left the grand old house, lately j after the storm ? ” the scene of so much life and gavety, desolate j “Well, you see, we had a hard thunder storm and gloomy. The Gordons nsually prolonged j here, but no timber was blown down, as it was their stay until the first of October, and would ! a few miles below this. The roads were rough not now, under any circumstances, have left the j and slippery, but not impassable." valley until assured that by remaining they i “And have you heard nothing of them since could not sooner find the young teacher, or 1 that night ? ” solve the mystery that enshrouded her fate. 1 “Not a word. I had no proof against the Evelyn returned to her home in Richmond, • woman and her son; so if I had followed them, after accepting May's polite invitation to visit ! I could have done nothing with them away off them again the ensuing Christmas at their resi- j here.” dence in the city. j “I see you could not have acted otherwise Fred Gordon did not cease his efforts to find than you have done,” said Fred, taking out his purse and extracting a note. “ I thauk you for the information yon have given me, and here is something to pay you for your trouble. I desire your assistance in findingFthat girl, and if you succeed, I will double thut amount one hundred times. ” - tLi qc.Ja-■}««- wriavtoetcer gart, its v/iic rustic* 1 along In’ Her silks, ! hc’/J: tal’l*. /ire. be wksi lit-* naitt i , t/ie kitchnu. aaorer, w-*o will I proclaimed loudly, -“I am no ordinary girl; I i among the servants, ihe years are l.orn tun! y love and money ! a m worth money; I am a lass with a tocher.” die: Jane is kind to him, but never permits the Jfe, henceforth, all 1 For years, Hngh Scott had served farmer Craw- slightest symptom of equality in public. In on longer. Will | ford as man-of-all-work. Although a peasant, five years, three children are born two boys ing, as a token I a nd of peasant origin so far as known, Hugh and a girl. At his timid suggestion, the second ! possessed a grace and personal beauty a prince ' is called Hugh, the elder being .-ailed for the Rendship between i might have envied; moreover, he was pious, ' farmer and his sun. Then the old people "go ielf up, as he made ! industrious and economical, and for him r. home, ’ and John is master of the freehold, and his lost love. In his distracted state of mind, inactivity was torture too great to bo borne. It was only in continual motion he gained any respite from the anguish that oppressed him. He scarcely allowed himself needful rest, but continued, day after day, riding through the Wearily and hopelessly Returned and went into her cell when Fontaine disappeared in the darkness, and sought relief in sleep from the misery that wrung her heart. She awoke early next morning, with a keen sense of her loneliness an A- 1 desolation; but she left her rude conch and tried to shake off' her misery. She opened'the trunk placed in her room the night previons, ond took from it an entire suit, neatly and tas'.riully made, and having refreshed herself with a bath, dressed herself with some degree of pleasure; for her toilet had been sadly negleetei^ue past week, because she had no clothes except those she Crawford entertained a sincere regard. It was j Jane receives her fortune of on*- hundred Hugh’s province to escort Miss Jane around the ! guineas, and they sorrowfully turn their backs country as humble cavalier, other attendants upon the old home and cross the sea. failing, and this soon became a labor of love. : They did not fipd any golden houses or golden Mr. Crawford was a rigid Presbyterian, and 1 streets, but Hugh was a versatile genius and his pet aversion was his daughter’s hair, which j made money and kept it. The thrift and money- persisted in curling in a silly and frivolous mailing ability of the Seoteh-Irish has parsed fashion, unbecoming a puritan maiden. After into a proverb, and Hugh Scott woke up, one an ineffectual effort to destroy the curl, Mrs. bright day, fifteen years after their hegira, “not Crawford piously declared that it was “Ilyin’ in j famous,” but a man ol wealth and consequence, the face of Providence,” and abandoned the j But the old way of living was not abandoned; task, and the curls were “left alone in‘their j it was a delight perpetual to serve his wife, to glory,” and this sloe-black, silky shower of • wait gravely, till wife and children had finish- curls, and a waist scarcely a span in wid A, con- i ed; then to sit down to his lonely repast. The stituted Jane Crawford’s sole attractions. To- | children were fond othim and respectful, but it day, such waists are a deformity, and deservedly was the fondness and respect of children hounded down; but in our mother’s days, girls j towards an old and faithful servant—no more, laced till their ribs overlapped, and the bare i At thirty, John Scott, the eldest son. was one of touch of the bed-clothing at night caused in- j the merchant-princes of the city, and Hugh—a tense suffering, and yet our mothers were ! fac simile of his father, was slowly but surely healthier than we are, and dyspepsia was un common iu the land. In her heavy black velvet habit Miss Jane set ont one afternoon to visit a neighbor a few miles distant, Hngh modestly riding a little in the rear. The sun was going down as they rode over the purple moors, under the bright June sky bending soft as a benediction over the land rich in poets, orators, beautiful women and brave men; the land that eagerly welcomed Christianity and accepted its divine truths while the sister island citing to beataeu gods. To the' eyes of the simple peasant, there was nothing in nature so beautiful as his young accumulating a fortune. Jane was a handsome, showy, shallow girl, like her mother, and ex ceedingly proud, with no particular reason that we could divine, unless it was that she did not have to beg for a living. At sixty, Hugh Scott bowed himself ont, with as little trouble, as he was wont to retir* w ith the different courses, and his bereaved widow mourned him early and late. At forty, John Scott was bankrupt, and his mother who had foolishly entrusted him with the management of the property his father hail accumulated by hard labor anil infinite self-denial, was penni less. Sho sank under this calamity and, one d’servant, who lane.” country and wandering through the woods, seeking for some trace of his lost darling. He sion of thanks and a gratified expression, assur- had almost abandoned all hope of ever learning ing the young man that he would begin looking her fate, when one evening he chanced to stop for her the ensuing day, and would never cease at the lonely inn where Mrs. Benson and her : until she was found. •on had sought refuge from the storm. j Fred thanked him, and soon after, with feel- He was conducted to a room, and after he had ; ings impossible to describe, sought his pillow, washed and brushed the dust from his clothes, j Hope, blended with fear for the safety of his he went into the sitting-room, just as supper j beloved Kate, in the hands of such ruffians, was served. He took his seat at the poorly-sup- ; held undisputed sway over his waking thoughts plied table, around which two or three chance and mingled in his dreams, when at last his travelers and the family of mine host of the inn J eyelids closed in sleep. were gathered. He ate sparingly of the meal, j and after requesting the host for a few moments’ | CHAPTER XX Yl. private conversation when he eould be at lei- i sure, went up to his room. He scarcely glanced , wore when stolen. This was only a transient ; mistress, in her rich, close-fitting robe and fioat- j day went off’ to find the faithful gleam of sunshine, but in the days that lollowed j jjjg curls of jet. For years he had loved her, . had always treated her like a she found more solid enjoymentfln the few well- w itfi audacious eyes down-cast and silent of »•« selected books the trunk contained. A smile of | speech; but real pleasure lit up her lace as •*• c took from her **ia the spring a livelier iris changes ou the burnished dove. Iti the spring the young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love;” trunk several neatly-bound volumes of her fa- The landlord accepted the note with a profti- i vorite books, and arranged them on her one * ■* - - - table, which served as both wasbstand and bu- Among the books was a small Bible, and re&u. pressing it to her lips, she felt re.dly grateful to the giver, who, even in forcing L. r to drain the j bitter cup of sorrow, had given ber an antidote i to soothe the pain. _ j Confinement and anxiety preyed upon her ; health, she grew pale and thin, and finally pre- | vailed upon Mrs. Benson to let hRrvralk a little I in the woods, but both she and tier son kept ] close on either side of her, watchful of her j every movement, and ready to grasp her should j Fixe Grave Clotiie**.—Not satisfied with lace when alive, both men and women crave for it as a ! decoration tor their grave-clothes. In .Malta, j Greece, and the Ionian Islands, the practice of hu- aml he forgot his lowly birth and occupation—j rying people in lace has acquired an nnsavory forgot all things but that he was a man, and she i reputation, on account of the custom of rifling the a fair woman whom he loved, and he said: tombs and selling the lace—often in a filthy eondl- “Siire, your ladyship is as beautiful as the ; tion—in the market. At Palermo, the mummies day, and as Irish as the shamrock.” ! in the catacombs of the Capuchin Convent arc “Is it daring to compliment me yez are?" I adorned with lace; and in northern and middle Jane exclaimed, with frigid dignity. “Sure, yez j Europe this fashion prevailed for along period forgets yourself strangely, Hugh Scott.” : In the Church of Revel lies the Due de Crov a “Hooked at the qnaue,” says Hugh, dryly; ; general of Charles Twelfth, in full costume with a “an itdidn t hurt her atall,atall, I m thinking. r j c h flowing tie of tine guipure. Ife was never “No more it did, with increasing ascerbity; ; burieil , by-the way, his corpse bavin- been urres- at the little bare room, with its meager supply of the poorest furniture, as he took his seat, «nd weariedly dropped his face in his palm, in jb attitude of hopeless despair. The two weary ^'%teeks that had passed since -Kate's abduction bit made a sad change in the young man. His &oe looked worn and haggard, and an expres- '■ sion of the deepest melancholy bad settled dpwn over his features. •4$, jh a short time, the obsequious landlord came s,. fa, making many apologies for his inability to ¥ supply his rooms and table with jny comforts and conveniences in this wild country. Fred cat short his exenses by saying: **I ani perfectly content with the entertain No future hour cun rend my heart like this, Save that which breaks it. Matciunus Bertram. Fontaine remained sitting in the same posi tion in which Kate left him until summoned by Mrs. Benson to supper. Kate refused to make her appearance, so he sat down to the rough ta ble alone and sipped his coffee in silence. Of the two, he was probably the more wretch ed; and yet he never once thought of relin quishing his purpose, and would not have given Kate up to her lover if he had known that by retaining possession of her person both would be involved in eternal misery and destruction. To release her from her present thraldom was to give her up to young Gordon and see her ac knowledged as his uncle’s grand-daughter and she make any attempt to escape. I “ but you hail betther sense than to spake your j t for j' l)t . s0 he remains/MahomeBlike” susnen- The wild dell abounded in striking seen- i ignorant admiration ont loud, ye omalhaatr yez ; tleJ ,, etween earth an ,j pk Xne Duk ^ ery, but Kate was too closely occupied m jean t he\pjnlmirin<)^me, perhaps, but^bejilased ; nQt {he grea( • ■ - “ oiva— ment yqn*give, and only wish to claim yonr i heiress, and himself dispossessed of the wealth •anpany for a few moments, in which I desire ! he had considered his, at his uncle’s death, tOMk you ^ few questions; I will compensate since boyhood. He never once supposed that yon for your loss of time.” I bis uncle, though very stern and unrelenting by • When reward was mentioned the landlord’s j nature, could refuse his daughter’s dying pray- facelit up with a satisfied grin, and he bowed, : er, and turn from his home and heart the lovely scraped, and finally took a seat, saying; grand-child, who could brighten by her pres- “ Certainly, sir; certainly. I ana at yonr ser- j ence the grand but gloomy house, and contri- vice, and will answer any question you ask me, in sow power.” “Then I will come to the point immediately. 1 Have you either seen or heard of a young girl, bute so much to his comfort and happiness. He knew that remorse for his treatment of his daughter was eating into the old man’s heart and sapping the foundations of his health, looking about her for a chance or a path of escape to note the luxuriant vines, steep preci pices and beautiful cascades of this solitary place. The days passed with nothing to break the quiet monotony of her existen*/^.^ With her ! books for companions, she might have been qui etly content, but for the dreaded return of Fon taine. Her manner to both mother and son was very kind, and her conversation without re proach. They treated her with respect. Their lawless natures were subdued by stance from her mild, reproving eye, and ttpugh they guarded her closely, leaving no avenue open for her escape, they did all in their power for her comfort. In Jake’s manner especially there was a marked change. His voice was not so loud and boisterous, and he dropped the nse of the slang phrases that came so naturally to his lips. Kate understood his efforts to please her, and often rewarded him with a grateful smile. “I tell you what, mother,” he would some times say, in a low, confidential tone, “if I have to stay hero long in charge of that sweet-tem pered creetnr, my heart will melt right down and git as soft, as mashed pertaters. It’s only duke one who died in Paris to reinimber that thim who goes wid the best, won’t be likely to resave compliments from the j *”! ‘A ns °' VI1 lr ccttou, interred in a shirt likes o’ you.” • of tne hn e»t Holland, trimmed with new point-lace Theres many a cruel Barbara Allen over the ! a new cc ‘ a, » embroidered iu silver; a ne.v wip, his world, and poor Hugh is crushed, and longs for i can ? on right, his sword on the left, of hi- the bright land over the “ say,” where the streets j co *h n ' * *' e heautitul Aurora Kouigsmarck lies are paved with gold, and where there is no soul- , buried at Quedlinburg amid a mass of the richest, depressing and spirit-humiliating caste. A few ; Angleterre, Matins and guipure; and the ceiehra- weeks later Hugh is her groom again, and the | te, l M rs - Oldfield “ was laid in her coffin in n verv young lady, thanks to a well-delivered and im- I fine Brussels lace head; a Holland shift with A pressive sermon on humility, reproaches her- j tucker of double ruffles; and a pair of new kid self for undue severity to her humble attend- ! gloves.’’ ant j •«« “ It’s an i llegan t day, Hugh,” she says, sweetly, j Little Tuinos.-A pin is a verv little tfriT* “ Sure, the sky is fairly laughing at ns as we j in an article of dress, but the wav in which M nde along. It s not grateful enough we are to ! is put into a dress often reveals the charactoi our Father for this beautiful wurruld. of the wearer. A shrewd fellow was once ioo’- No reply is made; Hugh recollects his lesson, j [ n g out for a wife, and was on a visit to * V, “ And why don t yon speak ? she demands. | of daughters with this object. The fair one of “Its only civil to reply when spoken to.” j whom he was nurtiallv , out °* “Holy Moses,”exclaims Hugh, “ but it’s hard j tered the room in which he was seated with he^ to please ye, mistress. Didn t ye tell me not to dress partially unpinned and her hair uSidt- to the Ouane ‘’’ aDy e ’ ^ th “ 1 W ° nld i‘« ho never *«**«*■ Yon may sSv such a ?eB .Vt j , ... ! low was “not worth a pin," but he was raot it i “Lord save us ! were poor, conceited, purse- B hrewd fellow, and afterwards nildealS proud people, Jane replies, “and I’m free to band. He judged of mnl own, I was too hard on you the day: at the same j little things; and he was right * men ~ l ‘- v