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TAKE CAKE WHOM YOU TRUST. BY COMPTON READK. CHAPTER XXVII. How detestably misfortunes dove-tail with each other! Scarce had Mr. Lovett left the wretched lodging in Kensington, on his ill- fated errand to Mr. Plumley, when down came sheriff's officers at the suit of Mr. Bulps, and swept away every article they could lay their unholy hands upon. Of course, as soon as the landlord (a drunken Irishman), discovered that his lodgers were in difficulties, he became so grossly insolent to Adine, that she literally tied out of his way, resolving, if possible, before night to establish herself in some other quar ters. The question was, how! Something less than one pound's worth of silver—all that her purse contained—would not even pay the rent due, and her husband, she now learnt, by telegram, would not return to her until the day follow ing. Tears, flow fast as they would, were nei ther relief nor aid. Hastily she put on her bonnet and mantle, resolving to borrow of Ralph, who, she felt sure, would act as a friend, although she could but own to herself, that he had be haved with most unaccountable rudeness in n-ver vouchsafing a reply to her missive of peace. At the door of Ralph’s lodgings, in Westbourne Park Terrace, she encounted Captain Hawder. * How d’ye do, Mrs. Lovett ? Lovett quite well, I hope? Thank you, we are flourishing. Where are you located now ?’ Poor Adine blushed for very confusion. She couid hut reply that they were not settled yet, but hoped sooner or later to go to Lingeville. ‘ Indeed !’ cried Captain Hawder. 4 You sur prise me. Why I was told only yesterday, that Lovett had sold St* Mary’s to McGrady, a man who used to be iu our regiment, and has lately gone into the church.’ Adine was genuinely surprised. She said simply that Mr. Lovett was out of town, and that *he was therefore in ignorance of his business arrangements. Captain Hawder perceiving that the subject was painful, and guessing that Mr. Lovett's af fairs were complicated, immediately offered Adine luncheon by way of changing the subject. But the poor down-trodden soul could not bear the thought of meeting the quondam Miss Block, who as Mrs. Captain llawder, had developed into a very grand lady, with her tear-stained cheeks, and half-broken heart. Prosperity would be sure to insult adversity by pity, if not by ac tual satire. She declared she must just see Ml. Ralph for five minutes, and then go to the city, and to Westminster and to all sorts of places. In short, her apology was of the lamest. ‘But,’ interrupted Captain Hawder, 4 Mr. Ralph is now at the rehearsal of his grand per formance. ’ ‘Grand performance?’ 4 Yes, surely you have heard that he is to make his debut in 4 Elijah’ to-morrow, at Exeter Hall ?’ ‘No. This is news. I’m very glad indeed.’ 4 Would yon like tickets? I have some to spare; the fact is, I took a dozen, and we can only use live. Please favor me by relieving mo of three or four,’ and he positively pressed them on her, so that she could hardly refuse, even had j she been so disposed, which was not the case. An omnibus passing at that moment, she has- j tily accepted the proffered tickets, and took her ! tlia KtrunJ lt»o.vincr th* in ! venicle so very unristocratio. She had heard that lodgings were to be had j cheap in the neighborhood of the Strand, and resolved to search that quarter of the town. Away lumbered the omnibus at the rate of two miles and a half per hour, affording her by its slow locomotion more than ample opportunity for reflections of a very sorrowful nature. She thought with pain of how suddenly and how awfnlly her life had been changed from good to evil, of the desperate character of her husband's fortunes, of the separation probably for some considerable time, from their'infant. She coaid but contrast the effluence of the Hawder’s, and so many of her old acquaintances, with the mis erable poverty which was the lot of herself and husband, and the only fntare for their little one — and as she thought thus sadly, the tears cous ed down her cheeks, and the sobs could not be repressed. She was beginning to feel very ashamed and horrified at this loss of self-control, when the ’bus stopped and she perceived through her tears Farmer Roper stagger through the pas sengers to a seat right opposite to her. There was no help for it—she could not re fuse to recognize their old tenant and friend. 4 What’s the matter, ma'am, if I may make so bold as to hask?’ he said. 4 We are in trouble,’ she half whispered. ‘Parson beant ill, I hopes, nor the babbee?’ 4 No, no, Mr, Roper. It is not that.’ Very awkward did the good yeoman feel. He guessed quickly enough what was wrong, but with instinctive delicacy shrank from making enquiry. He begun instead to fumble strange ly in his pockets, the result being the extrac tion of a large leathern purse. 4 Lucky I met ’ee, ma'am, for I be indebted to thy master a small trifle, and I’d as lief pay up and a done with it.’ •I’m sure,’ faltered Adine, ‘the debt is on our side. You have lost, Mr. Roper, fearfully by us. ’ ‘Not so sartain of that, Mrs. Lovick. The old farm—there—well, I loved the old farm; but ever since I been doing business in the corn dealing line I’ve made moor in a month, than I should ha’ made out ot farming in a ’ear. I baint so snrtain bat it may be for the best.’ 4 Oh, Mr. Roper. I hope God will prosper you!’ 4 And you, too, ma’am, and the old parson, and if you’ll both on you honor me with a call, my missis ’ull be allers glad to see ’ee at Clap- ham Rise. ‘Finstock Villa’ they calls the ’ouse.’ With which Mr. Roper pat into Adine’s hand two sovereigns and five shillings, being in fact nearly every coin in his purse. ‘But,’ she said, 4 1 don’t understand ’ ‘It’s all right, ma’am; if you gives it to Mus- ter'Lovick, and tells him it’s on account of the small tithes of Mudflat, he’ll comprehend. Good day to ’ee, Mrs. Lovick,’ and the stalwart form of Farmer Roper suddenly disappeared from the omnibus, treading en route on the corns of all passengers, right and left After a vigorous search, Adine found a bed room sufficiently clean for habitation, and being fairly weary she borrowed necessaries from the landlady, thereby saving herself the pain of returning to the abase of the Kensington Irish man before that her husband should be able to protect her. Wearied out with such a day of woe, she was asleep before the sun, and awoke on the morning following with strength ade quate for another of the battles of life. Quito imagining that Mr. Lovett would run up town by the first train, she was at the Ken sington lodgings in good time, and, having dis- bnned Mr. Roper’s two sovereigns to the ruffian ly landlord, oontrived to get her room for the noaoe to herself. It was with a very tremulous kbuurt that she awaited the arrival of her lord, for >well she knew how cruelly ha would feel the loas of their few household goods, and how bitterly he would appreciate the disgrace. She was em ploying the time in oolleoting the few articles of raiment left by the merciless vultures of law, when a loud rap at the door brought her heart into her mouth, apd caused her to run hastily to meet Not Theodore Lovett, but, with a very strange expression on his face, Horace Blackley. He had oome to London by the first train, with what motive the sequel will show. 4 Where 4 is my husband ? How did you dis cover our address ? What can be the matter ?’ She looked very anxious, very careworn, as she greeted her unexpected visitor with these en quiries. 4 1 am not aware fii anything being the matter,* returned Mr. Blackley, coolly enough. 4 As ior Lovett, he is at^ Mudflat, enjoying the charming society of Mr. and Miss Nevis.’ And he positively grinned at her perplexed express ion of countenance. 4 1 don’t understand,’ she faltered. 4 Must I explain ? Well, the fact is, that last night, in the middle of dinner, I was surprised by the honor of a visit from your husband. I observed that he was in a very excited frame of mind, and in fact he threatened me with person al violence. Subsequently, it appears, in couse- qnenoe of a report which had reached him rela tive to a strange little episode in your life years ago, he proceeded to the residence of Miss Nevis, I concluded to obtain such information as he might require.’ Adine hid her fflce in her hands. Could an other misfortune be in store for her? Conld it be that her love would listen to a gross perversion of facts by a low creature like Nevis, and believe such testimony agains. her? She could hardly believe it. ‘This is an enigma,’ she said after a pause. 4 Perhaps you will condescend to explain ?’ 4 Certainly, as far as my information will al low me. Mr. Lovett having heard for the first time of our excursion together from Brighton to Loudon, would Heem to have cherished an un worthy suspicion concerning yonrself. With his usual wisdom and far-sightedness, by way of arriving at the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, he goes to a person who would tell any lie in the world for a bribe.’ She regarded him suspiciously. His con strained manner betokened some kind of arriere pensee. 4 If such be the case, Mr. Blackley, you owe it to me as a matter of honor, or no less than to yourself as a clergyman and gentleman, to make the fullest explanations.’ 4 1 have done so—that is, as far he would listen to reason THE LOST CHILD; -OR,- The Wolf-Woman. THRILLING STORY OF MOUNTAINS. THE ROCKY BY W. H. B. CHAPTER IV. INDIAN CUNNING. The instant the shot had been fired, Curtiss arose, and would have dashed off in pursuit, had not the Indian pulled him suddenly down, and whispered iu his ear; ‘Look! the catoher of beaver has forgotten his canning, and told the red man where he can gather his spoils.’ •It is true as gospel,’ replied Fisher, with an oath that sounded strangely, in connection with the comparison he had used. ‘It is jest as true as gospel, and we’ve got er bit of er scrimmage on hand ter pay for my foolishness. I disarve to be burned at the stake ter pay for it.’ ‘But I see no Indians,’ said Curtiss, after look ing anxiously around; ‘there is nothing in sight but a few horses.’ ‘But every one’em has got a man hid behind him. It’s too old. erj^rick ter catch, even young weasels with,’ he ctriutliiued, mattering to him self, and at the same* 4 time, carefully examin ing his rifle. ‘What are we to do?’ ‘Jest keep as quiet, and as much in the shad- der as we kin. They’re cnnnin’ rascals, and will make sure that all is safe before they come much nearer.’ ‘But why not shoot before they have the pow er to harm us ?’ ‘Better wait and see what they intend ter do. Thar! that’s ther game, is it? Laydown class, and pertend ter be asleep:. Bufferler Huff, you understand what I am er doin’ on don’t yer ?’ A single motion of the hand of the Indian was the sole reply, but he loosened the knife and tomahawk at his belt, drew the blanket lightly over him, and lay with flashing eyes, motionless, as if carved from insensible granite. In this the trapper and Curtiss followed his ex ample, though the former crept apart from the rest, and the latter watched anxiously to see what these movements tended to. He was as yet a tyro in Indian fighting, and was abouc to take his first lesson in how craft could be op pose to craft. With his eyes fixed upon the prairie, he was That cannot be, or he would dismiss all bus- j a bi e to discover a moving object—moving, but Without an effort at escape after the first straggle had passed, the captive remained until the white men had bound him hand and foot, and placed him in a sitting posture. Then his lips moved as if he would speak, but a threaten ing motion of tbe knife of Fisher caused him to cease, and he sat in sullen silence, although his eyes flashed like those of a caged beast. ‘Ef it wasn’t fer his paint.’ said the trapper, in one of his ever cautious whispers, ‘he would not be sich a bad looking fellow. I reckon I’ll wash it off, and let the moonlight shine on his yaller skin, so that I’ll happen to know him ergin ef ever I should happen to see him.’ ‘Let paleface wait,’ replied Buffalo-Hoof, and he drew a pouch of paiut from his girdle and requested Fisher to copy the figures on the face of the spy upon his own. ‘What on arth do you want that done for ?’ asked the trapper, who, sage as he was, did not penetrate the plans of his Indian friend. ‘My brother shall see;’ and as soon as the adornment on face and body had been comple- j-a faint flame, and the encampment appeared as self from his panting steed, ‘by the Lord! but it war well done. Yerrun a narrar esoape for yer life thoagb, and—’ ‘The warriors were fools,’ was the scornful re ply, 4 a squaw could have stolen their horses from them.’ ,, 4 How many are thar of the red skunks t ‘They will have two weapons to one should they fight us.’. , . ... v •Fight us !’ inquired Curtiss; ‘do you think that they will dare attack ns?’ 4 Ter be sure they will, and fight like devils too. What are yer doin’, Buffaler ?’ ‘There mast be no grass to hide their coming —no ambush when they are near,’replied the Indian, as he began to fire the prairie at various points, and in a circle about the wagons. 4 Yer right. Wake up the sleepin’ lubbers and make ’em take keer of thar own scalps, commanded the trapper, as he also began to ignite the dry, reedy grass. A few sparks—a thin column of smoke—then ted to his satisfaction, he stripped the captive of his scanty dress, and pat it on in the place of his own. •See! I know all er bont it now, an its er plan no one but er red devil would have the cunning to think on, or ther darin’ to execute.’ But Buffalo-Hoof had not waited to hear the compliments. The moment he was roady, he had disappeared under the wagons, and now they could see him crawling out upon the prai rie as carefully as the spy had crawled iu. As soon, however, as his form had become lost in the distance, Curtiss demanded the meaning of his thus leaving him. ‘Yer just lay down as yer was before, and you too, redskin, ef yer don’t want this here knife through yer heart, and I will tell yer squire. ’ Tt cannot be that he intends to desert us ?’ ‘Desert yer! No; he’ll stick ter yer till the last gun am fired.’ But I can see no object in thus putting him self in danger.’ 4 I kin then; but its dangerous as you say. It wouldn’t do for either on ns ter try it, ef we had any regard fer our scalps,and—None of that In- j sickle of flame ! if wrapped in a whirlwind of fire and dense sfnoke. • Very rapidly, however, the circle widened, and a black and herbless space lay between them and their enemies. That a count er fire had been kindled they saw, and there was a grandly terrible sight given to their eyes, that was well worth traveling far and encounter ing many dangers to witness, for there is nothing on earth that can compare to a prairie fire. Let your mind grasp if it can, thousands of acres one mass of wildly leaping flame. Think of a midnight sly, lurid with millions of myr iads of glowing spaikles—of black smoke twist ing, twining in fanciful contortions, like huge serpents flecked with scales of glittering gold— of the mad, resistless roar—the frightful leaps, the hissing, crackling, rumbling noise—of the billow sweep of tbe long grass—an ocean, temp est heaved, into waves of red fire! Let fancy rnn riot as it will. It can compasB but a shadow of the grandeur—the sublimity of those gardens cf God, when the reaper of destruction is gather ing in his harvest, armed with the red-edged jnn !’ and the knife of the trapper was waved in alarming proximity to the heart of the captive. ‘You surely wouldn't kill him?’ asked Curtiss, But all this to the Indian and the trapper was as nothing. They had seen it a thousand times. With Curtis, however, it was not so, and he picion.’ Adine spoke as one who had read her husband’s heart, and Mr. Blackley, for a.second was posed by the very beauty of her simple trust. 4 1 have come,’ he answered, 4 as your friend. You should have told you husband the whole story long ago. After all, except the sin against Mrs. Grundy in a young lady accepting the es cort of an unmarried gentleman, there was no great harm. Concealment, however, has given an ugly look to the story, and you will find that Lovett will be as incredulous of you as of me.’ She sighed. Perhaps b ut a little time ago her whole soul would have risen against this man, who had proved so thoroughly an enemy, but as it was, the spirit within her was broken. She could find no words. 4 My I venture Mrs. Lovett, to offer my advice? He spoke in a very respectful quiet tone, as one who was really solicitous for her welfare. She bowed coldly. Then as he was silent, she j murmured ‘Yes.’ | 4 It is only advice, and you will rate it at its value; still, as your husband is evidently prej udiced. I think it is as. well ZiA&fl"V& words disadvantageous to his wife.’ ‘Of course I shall,’ she answered, simply ; 4 and I won't believe that my dear husband will discredit me.’ 4 1 wish, for your sake, I could share that be lief. Your husband is, as far as I know at pres at Mudflat Why not leave this wretched place, and travel with me as far as Blankton ? Mrs. vJhowner will be delighted to offer you hospital ity, and under her shelter you can brave the unj ust wrath of a man whose mind has been poisoned against you. My purse shall be at your disposal, and ’ 4 Mr. Blackley,’ replied Adine, rising, ‘thank you for your offer, which however, I must de cline positively. I shall await my husband’s return; and if you wish to do me a kindness, you will end this interview, for I do not think that he would wish it to h»ve occurred.’ Mr. Blackley bit his lip. He was foiled. ‘Besides which.’ she continued, 4 1 cannot forget, Mr. Blackley, that you have hitherto acted towards us both in a very hostile spirit. It is owing to yon that we have suffered many privations. Yon occupy our old home, and we are, through you, all but destitute. No; I am wrong to hold converse with you in the ab sence of my husband, and especially on the delicate sujbject yon have mooted.’ ‘You should remember,’ he replied angrily, 4 that your husband is in my debt, and that if I abstain from asserting my rights, it is solely^on your account.’ But she fixed her eyes on the ground and re fused to answer. Dumbfoundered he gazed long on that beau tiful face, which had been the dream of his young life. At length, actuated by a sudden impulse, strange but potent, he seized the white little hand which had fallen despairingly by her side, revealing by that one action the one motive which from first to last had been the mainspring of all his evil. Like a victim in the grasp of a serpent she was straggling to wrench herself from his grasp, when suddenly the door opened, and Theodore Lovett, leaning on a thick ashen stick—he had bruised his knee on the stone floor of Nevis’ cottage—limped in. With streaming eyes his wife rushed to his bosom. 4 This fellow,’she cried, 4 has insulted me.’ In a trice the villain was in the grasp of the angry man; fast and strong the blows of the ashen stick descended upon him, so fiercely, too, that Adine begged her hnsband to desist. 4 He is your enemy,’ she said; 4 he will injure you.’ But in spite of her remonstrances the power ful arm continued to rain punishment till Horace Blackley cried aloud for mercy, whilst his limbs writhed iu terrible agony. (TO BE CONTINUED.) so slowly that at timis he was doubtful if it stirred at all. A little practise, however, in ta king a range, satisfied him that it was steadily nearing them, but he was very long in deter mining what it could be—man or beast. •What is it, Buffalo Hoof,’ he asked, in the lowest of whispers, unable to restrain his im patience. ‘Dacotah spy. Keep still—make believe sleep. Don’t stir, when he comes,’was the rapid an swer. A terrible trial this, to a father’s and hus band’s nerves, and especially so, when he could distinctly see, not only the form, but the horri bly painted face of a brawny warrior, crawling stealthily towards them—and for what ? What could it be but scalps? Scalps of his wife and little ones, who were calmly slumbering in one of the wagons, unconscious of all danger. Yes, first scalps, and then plunder, for one would follow the other as a natural consequence. The thought was agony, and his hand was upon his rifle, and he was.determined to raise it and fire at all hazards, wrm Buffalo Hoof again whis- 4 Wait. ^ heftrd h * his ears set.’ f*' W*- ' “ r “ Little information the words conveyed to him, and yet Curtiss knew that it was a warning to alarmed by the movement had savage face of the ! could neither express his admiration, nor resist the temptation of awakening his wife and little ones to enjoy it with him, forgetful of the dan gers that were compassing him around. 4 Let the weapon of the pale face be ready. Let his hand be firm, and his eye sure,’ said the Indian in a low voice, completely patting to flight all his raptures. 4 Why, are they coming?’ ‘Like wolves, and there goes one to tell them of our weakness !’ and Buffalo Hoof pointed to their recent captive, who had managed to free himself, secure his horse and dash away in the midst of their excitement. The rifle of the trapper spoke first when his attention was thus called to the fact of his es cape, and then his lips. 4 I’d give er hundred beaver skins to know how that ar redskin got loose. And I didn’t hit him nuther. ’ Then his voice changed to one of deep earnestness, and he continued: 4 Hitch up the teams jest as quick as ever yer kin. See! ef we don’t get under the cover of the rocks first they’ll cut us all up inter mince meat.’ Such an order admitted of no delay, and soon the horses were being lashed forward, under both whip and spur, and the Indians running at full speed to intercept them. Truly it was a race for life, and woe to the travellers if they failed to win it! (TO BE CONTINUED.) trapper. •Wouldn’t I? Jest let him try er gin—that’s all.” ‘Why, what was he doing ?’ ‘Doin’. Only tryin’ ter git his fingers inter bis mouth, so as ter answer ther whistle yer heard a leetie while er go, that’s all. But I war er goin’ to tell yer what took Buffaler-Huft er- way, wasn’t I?’ ‘Yes, and I am very anxions to know, for we may need his strong arm and sound advice in a critical moment!’ ‘Critical! It’ll be critical with him ef they should happen ter find him oat. Wal, squire, he’s just gone ter play the part of this Injun, and find out all he can about the gang.’ ‘And will be sure to be discovered ! Great heaven, what an undertaking!’ ‘It’s his own fault if he gits tortured for his trouble, though he did it all fer your sake, and ther sake of yer wife and leetie ones, squire.’ 4 I wish I had known it in time to have stop ped him from such a foolhardy undertaking.’ •Yer mongbt just as well have tried ter have stopped er wild horse. But we must stop talk in' and listen. We can’t tell how soon he may give us er signal.’ If to the watchers the moments were passed in almost breathless anxiety, how much more so was it to the counterfeit spy, Buffalo Hoof, who was going it might be, to a fearful death ! Well however he knew what a dangerous part he was playing, and how slight a thing would lead to his discovery. To one brought up in a different mannar. bare thought of it would have been his cunning, and taxes aong^Ar-iuh.UHrtjrihs; utfe to the utmost. Once clear of the little encampment, the move- remain perfectly quiet; and feeling that it was ments of Buffalo Hoof became very rapid, and he How to Return a Favor. An old Scotchman was taking his grist to mill, in sacks across the back of a horse, when the horse stumbled, and the graint ambled to the ground. He had not strength to raise it, but he saw a horseman riding along, and thought that he would ask him for help. The horseman £ roved to be a nobleman, who lived ia the castle &rd by, and the farmer could not muster courage to ask a favor of him. Bat the noble man was a gentleman also, and, not waiting to be asked, he dismounted, and between them they lifted the grain to the horses back. John— for he was a gentleman too—lifted his cap and aaid: 4 My lord, how shall I ever thank yoa for yoar kindness ?’ ‘Very easily, John,’ replied the nobleman; ‘whenever yon see another man in the plight von were in just now, help him, and that will be thanking me.’ to them he must look for safety, he complied, every moment becoming more interested in the movements ot the spy. Now he was very near the encampment, and his movements resembled those of a worm more than humanity. Inch by inch he crawled along, though stopping very often with his ear to the ground. At length he reached the wagon, where the men and women were sleeping, crawled under it, looked anx iously around, and then peered within. But one rapid glsnce satisfied him. There was no one there that he need fear—no hand to be up raised except to plead for mercy. In an instant he had resumed his creeping posture, and near ed the dreaming hired men. They, also, were beyond resistance for the time" being. But three others yet renamed to be examined, and first he knelt by the side of the trapper. There his gaze and listening was very long and earn est. This one his k«en eye told him, was no stranger to prairie life—was one to be feared. At length, however, he became satisfied and passed on to Curtiss. But fortunately he lin gered only a single noment; another, and Cur tiss would have betnyed himself. His nerves and features were no; used to the control it re quired to keep them from moving, when a sav age was^bending ove him, knife in hand. But three lives, defer to him even than his own, were hanging fl if by a single thread. Wife, son and daugher—the triple souls bound to him with the stroigest links of paternity, de pended upon his slf-control! How difficult such a task, no one knows, who has not been forced to the trial, And when we try to remain nnmoved, how evey muscle appears — how the eyelids try to ojen—how the breath seems to almost stifle us, or tursts out fitfully when we would have it natual. Indeed, none bat men of iron nerve and will, can successfully pass through such an orieal. It is much more severe than bodily pain. But he was ne* to prairie life. This the Indian spy saw at a glance, and with a con temptuous smile ipon his lip, he turned away, and his glance r«tied on the brawny form of Buffalo Hoof. Thn an exclamation of surprise escaped him. Hjfc was one, a member of one of the many divuons of his own tribe, for the uncovered breast, revealed the totem, sleeping as a friend in the amp of the pale-faoe. This was a mystery thaihe could not fathom, and he remained for a tine, unthinking of his own safety. Very oaref.lly he examined the features; they were strange» him, and with his cariosity controlled by his nation, he tamed about to retrace his steps. Both the Buffalo Hoof and Curtiss he passed n safety, but something in the position of the traiper alarmed km. Had he awakened and disovered him ? If so, all his care had been fer naught. He must satisfy himself of the fac, and again he lnelt by his side. A shrill whistle ■esounded over th« prairie at the instant. He urned toward thi direction from whence the aund proceeded, b wait for its repetition, andquiok as thought tte arms of the trapper had tvined themselves wound his limbs, thrown hin. to thq ground, am Buffalo Hoof, leaping to hj* companion’s assisanoe, had compressed the turoat so as to deb* all ut terance. •The catcher of Reaver has sprung lfo trap,’ said the Indian toCurtiss, with a smia as he came up. ‘Yers, and oaugit er musk-rat,’ replifi Fish er, ‘yer see now, quire, what we were ater. I kinder thought tiat ef we baited the odairfn with a leetie makttterlieve sleep, he’d be»r nib bling at the bait, md so he did, and got otched was not long in reaohing the spot where the In dians were lying around in the grass, and hold ing the long halters of their horses. Taking a place by the only one tUat was without a rider, he coolly drew out a pipe he found in theponch he had appropriated, lighted it, and commenced smoking. There was perfect silence for some moments, and then one, who appeared to be the leader of the party asked: 4 What news brings Ton-a-en-co, of the pale faces ?’ Ton-a-en-co—Kicking Eagle ? So that was the name ot the Brave whose part he was playing, and Buffalo Hoof appropriated that also. It was the very thing of all others that he desired to know the word on which depended almost en- tirely his safety. That ascertained, he hastened to answer: Farmers’ Boys. complain that Continually, the brightest, most intelligent son, the one to whom the old gentleman would like to bequeath his farm, with the hope that for at least one more generation, stranger’s hands shall not gather its Bheaves, nor garner its grain, “is taken with a notion” that he must go to town: he must measure calico or sit in an empty office and wait for the clients or patients who, perchance, may never eome. In tact, four out of every five boys raised on a farm are eager to leave the old homestead and become one of the toilers in overcrowded towns or cities. Farmers, of all others, most deeply lament this, and yet we think that they, themselves, help to make it so. There is too rnach of the “good enough for farmers” at home for the boys. They would like to be among and one of ; the people for whom such things are not good !enough. ° Farmers are careless as to how their sons 4 Ton-a-en-co was in the heart of the camp of i dress for “Sundays ” as it is termed to.'iKufarlSg.T" 8l “ P ‘° 8 ' He i 5? their boy, go out Into 4 How many?’ 4 Ten men, one squaw, two papooses,’ was the lying reply. Evidently this story was somewhat doubted. How so great a number could be encamped to gether, and no one be upon the watch was some thing they could not understand. ‘ Does the tongue of my brother travel the trail of truth, or did his heart grow faint and blind his eyes when he stood by the pale-faces ’’ questioned the chief. 4 The heart of the Eagle never grows faint,and his eyes never grow dim, even though he looks at the sun,’ was the prond reply; and, as if in sulted, Buffalo Hoof turned away to caress the horse, though in reality to hide his face from too close examination. He knew that it was the crisis of his undertaking—knew that the dawn would soon be upon them, and that he would certainly be unmasked, and whatever he did must be done quickly. for hia trouble. Drawing a little apart from him, the rest, con versed long and earnestly, leaving their horses tied to one stake, and that at a little distance. In an instant his resolution was taken. He would make a bold stroke, save himself, and place them out of condition to follow. With rapid fingers he untied the one by which he had been standing, threw the buckskin bridle over his head, crawled slowly to the others, cut them loose, and then mounting, dashed away, yelling like a fiend. 6 Completely taken by surprise, the Indians stood for a moment not knowing how to act In fact they did not realize what had happened— having no thought of treachery, until they heard the outcry. Then all flashed upon their minds m an instant, and their bows twanged arrows flew like hail, but without avail. Every one of their wild steeds—wild as they were themselves—were running madly away with upraised heads, distended nostrils, flow ing mane and flying tail. Once more they were free-free as the day when they had never known control. Ah, a glorious sight was that! A half- score of ‘desert steeds,’ bounding again over their native wilds, free as the wind, and rapid as lightning! How tome are the raoes of civil ization compared to such an one ! How insipid both -time and ‘bottom’ to snoh bursts of speed! But little, however, any eye that saw them in tneir native fleetness and majesty, thought of snoh things. The ro’ffind Indians were howling m their anger, and Lh>,ss within the corral of the white nmn watched i-j:.o.atly the coarse of the swift rider towards tb m. ‘By the Lord! Badi.o Huff,’ exclaimed the nipper, as he sprapy for ward and grasped the nan cl of the Indian as soon as he had flung him- the world that they shall be neatly and taste fully arrayed. They are not careful about hav ing their homes adorned with books and papers and their children learned to appreciate them • and farmers’ homes of all others most need tnese things. They don’t think it worth while that vines should twine around the verandah, flowers bloom in the yard or pictures hang upon the • walls. People seldom come except the neigh bors and it don’t matter about that. No need to have music and songs; they’re not “party folks. And yet for these very thingh are your • 7, 8 , anxion8 leave the farm. For no one will deny that these things help to refine and ennoble us, help us to more self-respect, and make us feel like life is worth living, and not bestowed upon us as an inevitable evil that we must bear as best we may. And then farmers are careless about teaching their children the graces and annuities of so ciety. They don’t seem to think these things become his working clothes. They tell them something about “dress is not the man,” instead of teaching him to be a man, yea, a gentleman at the plow or in the hayfield, as well as behind the desk or counter, and that the courtesies that mark tile gentleman at the one plaoe mark him at the other. The boys, when they grow up large enough to mingle with the world, miss these things sorely, and attribute the lack of them, not without cause, to the fact that thev are farmers’ sons., J If farmers wonld make their homes more pleas ant, make the long evenings times of something besides weariness, the boys would not be so ready to leave them for town. For, I cannot believe that it is altogether the wish to mingle in the “endless toil and endeav- or of the busy town that makes them leave; but that there is, mingled with it, the desire to be fw 6 i hing more than they are raised to feeling that they are; the earnest desire, indeed, that they “ may bear without abase the grated old name of ‘ Gentleman.’ ” K “ oia A five year old ohild left its seat in the Ban- tist church, at Grand Rapids, Michigan walked up to the pulpit and up the SensedTtSd before Dr. Graves, the pastor, who tnrned to- -WSat do yoa Mnt, m 7 little man ? The ohild innocently reolied *A glass of water.’ The pastor nnnr«d P „„7’ glass of water, the chilcfdrank it, and left the The i “£ ident considerable merriment among the audience, whioh the child in returning to his seat noticed, and thinking the people were amused at Borne mistake of ?«*>r, lidf £°?’ “d went to his seat fitisflyfl • that he had not oommittod an impropriety. J