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w FIOWEHJ louECftw “MOTIF."’ Not all at once, do out sorrows come Nor joys follow swift upon Their fleeting steps— hut, as the rain drops Gently fall—with soft refrain “One, by one!” VARIATION'S. Spring cometh not with joyous song Of nil, the birds the woods among, 15ut, here, and there, a robin's trill ’Wakens in every heart, a thrill, •‘One, by one !' Nor, doth all the summer's flowers 'Waken at once by shock of showers; Nay ! each and every one, must test Karth's warmth, and be by sun earest “One, by one!” Nor. doth Autumn on us bestow Her garnered fullness by ora blow, Hut, as in gold or russet glow Fall her bright leaves, her sheaves she layeth low “One, by one! Neither doth Winter under one snow Bury all the glad earth's flowers below; But. one by one as her snow flakes fall '{enderly, slowly she coveretb them all, “tine, by one!” “Li’esvoi.” Aye! so, one by one, the shadows creep After us, as we toil up life's pathway steep. Yet, out ot the darkness, O I glorious view Of star besprent heavens, as they pierce the blue “One, by one!"’ RETRIBUTION; -0R- The Love of Gold. COMPLETE IN ONE NUMBER BY T. e. H. A naan whose age might have been five-and- fifty sat in a cosy arm-chair in an old fashioned library. His face waR hard and crnel, and bore a striking resemblance to the younger person who stood at his elbow, and looked over his shoulder upon the mass of papers that belitter- ed a writing desk. A casual observer would have pronounced the pair father and son, for such relation they in deed bore to each other, as it was not difficult to see. Amos Gaston, the elder, had been a ship mer chant in one of our large seaboard cities, but had retired to a country-seat which had fallen to him by the will of his younger brother James, who, with his entire family, had been lost on a Liverpool-bound vessel several years prior to the date of our present narrative. It is said that the best sea-dealing men breathed tear when the prosperous ship merchant retired, for they called him a scheming rival, and hinted at tricks that were bringing the legitimate busi- j ness into disrepute. And these tricks were laid secretly at Amos Gaston’s door. His son Yoel, a man of thirty-two retired with him. They shut themselves up, as it were, in the old house; hut they did not remain idle. Day after day they schemed, invested and schemed again, through agents in the city, until the Gaston coffers seemed overflowing with gold. Midas-like, everything that they touched seem ed to transform itself into wealth. The Gaston legacy, as the estate was called, was a tract of rich land that extended to the lovely banks of the Hudson river, and fit for the country retreat of a king. The house was a rel ic of the days of the Knickerbockers, quaint in style, substantial in structure, and roomy as a palace. ‘It isn’t among these papers, though you may look over them if you wish,’ said Amos Gaston, looking up at his son. ‘It should be,’ was the reply. ‘I think you ought to take better care of important papers. Don’t yon know that our peace depends upon the retension of that document? 1 labored a long while upon it, and entrusted it to your keeping, fondly believing that it was safe there. Now see what you have done. Don’t lay the lault at my door.' Yoel Gaston was not pleased, as his words in dicated, and his father bit bis lip, but did not reply. ‘If the will has been stolen,a pretty outlook is before me,’ Yoel continued, tartly. “I stand on the eve of marriage'-’ His f-tber started and looked up in s'ueh a taanner as to interrupt the speaker. ‘Going to be married ? You have a business like way of making such an annonnootUfent,’ said Gaston pere. ‘I consider it but a meitfel of business, and treat it as such. We used to contract with Cap tain Hammerton for a ship-load of teas. I have contracted for a wife—that is all.’ ‘Truly a business transaction,’ Amos Gaston said, with a smile. ‘Who is the lady ?’ ‘Miss Stringate.’ The ship merchant was on his feet in an in stant. ‘Noel Stringate’s child V ‘Yes.’ ‘Yoel, my son, I wish you would break the match,’ the old man said, pleadingly. ‘Noel Stringate and I have been foes for several years. He has poisoned the air about us with suspic ion, for I was his rival years ago in the merchan dizing business. He certainly has not given hi s consent to the affair.’ ‘He has, indeed,’ was the son’s reply. ‘Why, he seemed eager for its consummation, which surprised me, as I happened to know something of the unpleasantness between you. He is rich, not very far from the grave. Harriet is an only child, and an heiress not to be overlook ed.’ ‘Money, money !’ cried Amos Gaston. ‘While Hove to accumulate it, I will forego that pleas ure if you will relinquish your suit. There is something behind Noel Stringate’s willingness. He is the deepest plottei I have ever known.’ ‘Deeper than Amos Gaston aud son ?’ asked Yoel, sarcastically. ‘I don’t know, but he is a foeinan worthy of our steel,’ was the answer. ‘And so you have promised to marry his daughter !’ ‘Yes;and what is more, I intend to do so.’ ‘When ?’ ‘Oh, as soon as the preliminaries have been perfected,’ said the son, in a nonchalant man ner. ‘I've bought the girl, but shall not press the conveyance of the property.’ ‘Then there s no love connected with this mar riage ?’ •I should say not, seeing that Noel Stringate forced his daughter to give up a poor young fellow and listen to me. Amos Gaston, let your mind go back thirty-five years to-night. Recall vour marriage with the woman who gave me birth. You never loved my mother, whom you wedded for the dowry she possessed, and up to the day of her death, I never saw you give her a smife, much less an aff.-ctionate embrace. Your greedy lust for gold took possession of vour heart when a boy, and it blotted out the finer feelings of the human soul. Now, do not growl because I am treading in the paths which you have made—because I worship at the gild ed altar b< f >re which you have knelt and sacri ficed to Mammon for forty years. I have chos en my wife, as you chose yours. You looked at the dowry, not the woman; so do I. Harriet Stringate is lovely, but that doesn’t outshine her gold in a Gaston’s eyes. The time is not far distant when Noel Stringate and yourself will touch miserly heads, ami plan how to pile golden dollars mountains high.’ ‘ I can’t countenance this match, Yoel,’ the father said, after a moment's silence. ‘ I wish I could; but this dots not prevent you from marrying.’ ‘ Of course not.’ ‘ I knew that you would never bring a beggar to the house. Noel Stringate and I need not, of necessity, become friends.’ ‘That is true—Harriet will get her money, all the same.' ‘Jr.St so. > T ow shall we take another hunt for the will V ■I advise it. and let it be a thorough one. This matter causes me no little uneasiness, for it is not absolutely certain that every soul on board the Grey Dawn perished.’ Amos Gaston’s face grew deathly pale at his son’s last sentence, which contained a thought that had bothered him before. Then father and son examined the papers on the desk, after which innumerable ‘pigeon holes' were rifled of their contents, and drawers peep ed into with searching eyes. But the paper which purported to be the last will and testament of James Gaston did not re ward the hunters, and Yoel turned suddenly on his heel and left the library with a curse. «This is very strange ! ’ murmured Amos Gas ton, with a puzzled expression of countenance. «It must have been stolen, but by whom ? No persons save Yoel and myself have had access to these private papers for five years; but still the will is missing. And now, to add another trouble to the house, that boy is going to form an alliance with the house of Noel Stringate, a man who never bore me a good feeling since I caused one of his ships to be sunk in the Malay Archipelago. Now he is willing that my son shall wed his daughter. He means something; the old Knickerbocker mansion, and for the first time in all his life he crossed its threshold. There was a gleam in his eye that told more than his lips had dared to reveal to his daugh ter, and it grew more intense when Yoel Gaston met him in the corridor. ‘Father is slightly indisposed,’ said the son ‘He is in the dining-room, resting. If von would like to see him now ’ ‘I will!’ said the father of the bride, and Yoel led the way. Amos Gaston was discovered seated in the dinnig-room, and the enemies stood face to face. For a moment they glared at each other, then met and touched hands, and the one said: ! ‘Nothing can make us frieuds, Noel. I say ; this unreservedly.’ ‘Well and good,’ was the reply. ‘I would not be your friend for all your money !’ Amos Gaston was startled by the speaker’s look, and tone, and might have replied if the door had not opened suddenly, and admitted two | persons. j ‘Good !’ muttered Noel Stringate. ‘I knew she | she would come.’ A pale-faced woman, clad in deep black, and j sorrowful of countenance, strode forward She | carried a cane, for there was a limp in her gait, Amos Gaston’s eyes were riveted upon her, j and he presented a picture of frozen horror i His son seeing the awful look, sprang to his | side as the visitor suddenly exclaimed: ‘You recognize me, Amos Gaston. Sorrow , and shipwreck have not destroyed all the traces I of your brother’s wife, I come for that which is ; Anne’s and mine!’ and she glanced at the girl who knelt at Harriet Stringate’s feet. ‘My | friend, Noel Stringate, possesses the will which j you and your son forged. Is that not enough to ; convict you ?’ When you placed one of your | ships at our disposal, you knew it was a rotten I hulk, built to sink. I see the brand of guilt on ! your face. The day of retribution has come !’ ; Guilty and white Amos Gaston could not ' move. He knew that the woman was his brother’s | wife, and at last in the desperation of the mo- I ment, he flashed his eyes upon Noel Stringate, ‘This is your work !’ he cried. | ‘It is indeed !’ was the reply. ‘Yon sank one { of my trading ships twenty years ago, and I have bided my tirne for vengeance. Your , brother's wiio aud daughter came to my aoor | months ago, but I secreted them from your sight. I wanted your son to seek my child’s j hand—I wanted to get him upon the threshold I of my coffers, that my blow, when it fell, but I cannot prevent it. I see the storm com- | handsome dresses were spread before his eves, I should crush him as well as you. This is my ing, but cannot fly iherefrom. Yoel Gaston, | and he lifted them in astonishment. * ’ | revenge, Amos Gaston. My child should not though you are my son, I curse the day that j Such an expenditure as it had demanded | marry your son if he owned the Indies!’ ' “ I See the Brand of Guilt Written on Your Face.’ gave you to the world.’ If ever a curse came from a man’s heart, that one came from Amos Gaston's. He looked like a man on the brink of despair, with merciless foes on his track. He passed the library, giving vent to fearful imprecations, many of which were hurled at his own eon, nor did he panse nntil the door opened suddenly, and Yoel stood be fore him. ‘ Were yon calling me sir?’ he inquired. ‘ No.’ ‘I certainly heard my Harm mentioned in a loud tone,’ was the reply. Fur a moment father and aoi stared into each other’s face, but did not speak ‘ I did speak your nam j ,' A vos Gaston said at last; ‘but it was coupled to a curse.’ * Oh, is that all ?’ sneered tlv son. do no more harm than your lonestv good, I shall snap my fingers ft them. I am go ing up to the capital. Any messages ?’ ‘ No. Stay ! you may send iuriey, of Barley & Co., down.’ ‘Want a lawyer, eh? I can draw up a will for you. You know I am an oid baud at the business.’ Yoel Craston laughed as be jlosed the door; but he heard his father say, as ae strode off: ‘ And your will-making is likilv to get both of us into the penitentiary,’ Then he called aloud: ‘ Don’t send Burley down ! nd Yoel passed out. The skeleton beneath the Guson root seemed to be causing a great deal of trable. The discovery that the will <f James Gaston was missing was enough to blanh the cheeks of father and son, who knew thatit wa3 forgery, which if discovered, would se:d them to the State Prison. The Grey Dawn, in which fames and his family—consisting of wife anc daughter—had sailed for Liverpool, had been tported lost with all on board, and subsequent idormation con firmed the report. Then it was le elder Gaston presented a paper claiming to l a will which his brother had drawn up priorto his sailing, and which gave, in the event of he loss of the testator’s family during the trij the beautiful estate os the Hudson to the wealthy ship merchant. Ike Will surprised many peopi; but as James vjaston possessed no other kin, ad, as his entire family had been swallowed up t the sea, no objections were made, and the poperty passed into the forger’s hands For several years the plotting bain had thriv ed on their ill-gotten gains, in. though both were crusty and mean, nothinj Ld occurred to make them at variance with oie ©other till the loss of the will. Living a distance from the tty shut up like a hermit with his money wellocled, Amos Gas ton had passed his days, fe sildom walked out to breathe the fresh air ad street the sun beams, but sat at his desk, inniag over flies of bills which had brought 1m ©onoy in by gone years. He did not thin it strange that his son, Yoel, should love rnoneas he did, for he had inherited that insatiie greed from his father. If Amos Ga3ton lo>d his sen, it Was because he loved gold. The leaves was turning ' gold When Harri et Stringate-- Yoel’s affiaied bride—toid her father that the wedding tjiseau v&s finished, and had arrived in the hese. The old man, whose lotof Ht.oney had taken possession of his heart Kthe exclusion of all other passions save one, sired to see it. The j shocked his gilded heart, and he turned to his daughter. j ‘Pretty, but cost too much money!’ he said. ‘Yoel GaHton may repudiate you when he sees ; it. Itspeaksof undue extravagance.’ ‘He will not relinqu sh the bird he has | caught,’ Harriet said, with a smile. There is | too much money left in the nest. I know l’oel Gaston.’ ‘And I know both of them.’ said the old man, in a tone which showed that there was no love between the two families. ‘And hate them ?’ ‘From the bottom of my heart’’ Harriet was silent for a moment. ‘But that greed of gain over-rules everything,’ she said at last, and firmly. ‘Father, listen to If curses | me for a moment. You know that I can never has done ! love that cold, stern .man to whom you have given me, and that I jhave no right to expect a Section from him. I say frankly that I do love the man whom yon have driven from onr home. With him life would be a paradise, for love would be there; but with Yoel Gaston, the mon ey lover, the slave to pelf, life would soon be come unendurable. Much as I love you, I have wondered why God does not put an end to the life that has made a deity of money. Recon sider your determination, and let me put aside these garments; let me wed where I will be happy.’ Noel Stringate’s face grew dark. ‘No!’ he said, sternly. ‘I have said that you shall wed Yoel Gaston. Do not talk to me about this matter again until after the wedding.’ The next moment Harriet was alone, and the rich man was walking towards his library with a cunning expression of countenance. ‘It is potting Harriet to much trouble and un easiness; but she will thank me after all,’ he said. He retired to his library and wrote a letter which ended as toliows: ‘The time is near at hand. Harriet's wedding trosseau arrived to-day. It is quite handsome, Mr. Gaston will consider it in a monetary sense. They do not dream of the coming storm, and the old man has ceased to think of my sunken ship. Be ready when I send for you.’ Noel Stringate dispatched this letter from the house by a servant, and then turned to a batch of private papers. He was engaged when the letter-carrier returned and said: ‘The old lady is not very well, but the girl read your letter aud told me to say that they were ready at any time.’ ‘Gaod!’ Noel Stringate exclaimed, and return ed to his work. Something afoot, and the week was des tined to see it end, tor the day after the forego ing incident was the bridal day. The wedding was to be veryjprivata, and take pl ice at the groom’s home at^Noel Stringate’s requeBt •VV’hy couldn’t the old hater have kept his daughter at home. He knew that I would never have crossed his threshold, and now that his plans have succeeded, he is determined to cross mine. Ten thousand marriages would not abate a jot my hatred of you, old miser.’ These words fell stingingly from Amos Gas ton’s lips, when he learned that the wedding was to take place under his roof. His son sail nothiug, but proceeded with the preparations, and the day found them complete. It was a beautiful autumn day, and the minis ter arriving unattended, was greeted by the Gas tons. By and by, Noel Stringate’s carriage de posited his family in the spacious court before Harriet Stringate looked up into her father’s j faoe, as if she could not credit the evidence of | her senses. But Noel was in terrible earnest. The revengeful blow had crushed the Gastons, j and people along the Hudson tell to-day how I the penitentiary severed them from their gold, much of which was ill-gotten wealth. The Gaston legacy reverted to its rightful j owners, aud Noel Stringate told his daughthr that he had used her as an instrument of revenge, and smilingly bade her marry the young man of her heart’s choice. This she did, and the old man opened his heart at the wedding so that the richness of the feast was a thing of wonder. Anne Gaston was one of the happy guests, and soon after ward became a bride herself. It was through Noel Stringate that the forged will was stolen from the Gaston library, and it helped to swing doors behind father and son. Indian Summer of Life, In the life of the good man there is an In dian | Summer more beautiful than that of the | seasons; richer, sunnier and more sublime tha© 1 the most glorious Indian Summer the world ever knew—it is the Indian Summer of the soul. When the glow of youth has departed, when the warmth of middle-age is gone, and the buds and blossoms of Spring are changing to the sere and yellow leaf; when the mind of the good man, still vigorous, relaxes its labors, and the memories of a well-spent life gush forth from their secret fountains, enrich ing-, rejoicing and fertilizing; then the trustful resignation of the Christian sheds around a sweet and holy warmth, and the soul, assuming a heavenly lustre, is no longer restricted to the narrow confines of buisness, but soars far beyond the Winter of hoary age, and dwells peacefully and happily upon that bright Spring and Summer which await him within the gates of Paradise evermore. Let us strive for and look trustingly forward to an Indian Summer like this. About Babies. Different countries have different methods of deabng with their young. The Greenland baby is dressed in furs, and carried in a sort of pocket in the back of his mother’s cloak. When she is very busy and does not want to be bothered with him, she digs a hole in the snow, and covers him all up but his face, and leaves’him thereuntil she is ready to take care of him again. The Hindoo baby hangs in a basket from the roof, and is taught to smoke long before he learns to walk. Among the Wes tern Indians the poor little tots are tied fast to a board and have their heads flattened by means of another board fastened down over their foreheads. In Lima the little fellow lies all day in a hammock, swung from a tree top, like the baby in the nursery song. In Persia he is dressed in the most costly silks and jew els, and his head is never uncovered, day or night, while in Yucatan a pair of sandies and a straw hat are thought to be all the clothing he needs. Three daughters of a Kentuckian determined to be married the other day, and their father re fusing to approve their resolve, they all eloped with the men of their choice the same night. Only in Kentucky do they do such things this wholesale manner.