Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

intS 8 *? 11 Eryc , coald not repress an exclamation ££STS?Sf *u the beaut Y <« the grounds, which. S y here and ‘here with evergreens of seemed a v eij paradise of green S<J h L h * r r eD 2 esa a „ nd sterihty of winter. But 0t the SCener 5 r W »S put out of the st °PP ln g of the carnage at the gate a PPf^ cb ?[ an oM gentleman who expecting them, and who proved to ilTit „ r himself. Cane in hand, which, ho w- shfnth evid t n ‘ he carried more for compan- gup than for any help it afforded him, for he flour- {?,„** ^‘her than walked with it, he advanced with "h”“ ho* hearty hospitality to meet them. He was something under the medium height in stature, and 301 ™ . tended to embonpoint, and his face TOsofthat niddy, sanguine hue, which come no , v from perfect health than from a certain predi ction which men of wealth and genial disposition a , re apt to have for indulging in the convivialities of the social glass. ‘And so you have come at last, have you ?, he said as he drew near and stood beside the carriage; it is not your habit, Mr. Delamere, to t>e behind hand, but we have been expecting you for an horn- at least this morning. 7 By this time the party in the carriage had alight ed and Mr. Delamere replied: ‘I must confess we arc a little late. But let me pre sent to you Mr. Ethmer, my nephew, Eryc Dela- mere, or whom, ere now, you have heard me sneak 7 1 on are welcome here, sir, 7 said the old gentle- man advancing and shaking Eryc warnilv by the A a mV.e I fi kneW J T Ur fatber * s ? r - a fine man. ttle fiery perhaps, but with as generous a heart as ever beat. Fine brain too, sir. * Eryc made some apposite reply and they moved on towai d the house. This was a line mansion of ter ■l 0r, hut ' f V s , El '- vc e,1 tered, he noticed nnd l nllf S raitlU ’ e r a i s ” dand somew hat time-worn ed'hi™ I J 8 Very fash » onab J emak e- This occasion- nresent lin S tT PI i 1Se “ ha<1 been lnf °rmed that his present host had not been married until late in life and that his wife had died some fifteen years ago’ 2?™!5 e 1 “ C0Dg ^ lty . ofafine hoow, and indifferent furniture he rather imputed to the well-known ec- ZTT y .° f ! h ° ° Id g e,ltlelnan than to his lack of domestic taste or to the indifference about such matters of his charming daughter. As soon as they bad entered the old gentleman, who seemed in his t!> F,' ve’l'lT i U ,° US v' aJ i , r ° lmTO “ken finite a fancy . • •' ? seized him by the aian, and, having ushered ti e left t and J Unt ? nd Miss Devon into a room on !, n,e<1 1 '' Ith the young man, and entered common-place expressions of sympathy would be altogether useless. Finally he said: ‘I thought that there was a fine piece of property somewhere in this state for you as soon as you be came of age.’ ‘There was once,’ returned Eryc. but it has been lost some time now, and one hundred dollars and odd cents here in my pocket is the sum of all my possessions, except a change of clothes and a few old musty books.’ There was a thoughtful pause on Mr. HTlmot’s part, and then laying his hand on Eryc’s shoulder he said: ‘I will make you a proposition, Eryc. Come and live with me until something better turns up.’ ‘However pleasant such a thing might be,’ return ed Eryc smiling, ‘it is absurd and ridiculo'is, but —iry generous and characteristic of you, Harry. ’ ‘what is characteristic ? the absurdity of" the thing ?’ ‘No; of course I meant the other.’ ro ^“ t fl 0 ‘ harigh ‘.. “™g, ‘Let me introduce you. The apartment m which Ervc now found himself contamed some twelve or fifteen pereons, some of v horn w ere seated near a bright, cheerful fire,while others were gathered around a large piano where sat a } oung girl who had apparently just ceased play mg. As is usual on such occasions, there was t»^T e f n ii ary UU ,n the conve rsation at the eu- wa- „f if- th D f w ^ c onier, and many turned to get a look at him. And indeed he was well worthy the glances leveled at him, if grace, dignity and manly beauty are ever worthy of passing notice and there was something of sadness in his face which S hnn a distinguished air that needs but to be seen to be felt and appreciated. nor to however, looked neither to the right maimer ’ ‘ lna ldunt aild unceremonious hif,' n -rr t h o seemed to . 1)0 natural to him, drew •vi i g t u. the *V OU, l? P rl at the P ia no and said: My daughter, Mr. Delamere.’ Eryc bowed to Miss Ethmer who had risen from utationf at US ap i )roac i ’ and now returned his sai- Mr. Ethmer, having further presented him to the group who had gathered around his daughter said more familiarly: ‘Diana, this is Mr Dolamere’s nephew—Corinne’s cousin,—and, as he is the only stranger in the house to-day, I put him under your especial care ’ and away he went as abruptly as he had come- Eryc inferred from the old gentleman’s parting information to bis daughter that he was Corinne’s cousin, that lie would merit more favors from this simple fact than, as a stranger, he could ever ex pect to receive, and when he looked at her his ‘But you haven’t heard me out yet,’ continued Mr. H'ilmot. ‘My respected father, to whom be all jraise, has recently, judging me to be of bucolic 1 emperament, settled me only a few miles from here on one of his places, which henceforth is to be mine if I do well during this, the period of my probation. He says I am getting too old—twenty-four last montli,—to be straying around loose, and so, like the fellow in the parable. 1 have taken all my sub stance and come into this far country here, and like him furthermore, I am very apt to run through with every thing unle-s some more prudent hand guide me and hold the purse strings for a while. ’ ‘ 11 hy iny dear friend ’ ‘Oh, hold on, won’t you V I am going to the bad fast. You must come and stay with me as an act of charity.’ Eryc laughed, and scrutinizing with minuteness the countenance of his friend, replied. ‘That is a very sad confession, Harry, and now. since I look at you closely, I see you have been drinking. ’ Yes, I liave taken a swallow of the wine that perisheth,’ said Mr. H'ilmot. ‘I always do when I go out, or lose at cards and 1 have done both to day. It steadies my nerves, you know, and makes me forget.’ Knowing that his friend, even while a student at college, had indulged in the ]ierishable fluid above mentioned, Eryc said nothing, and Harry H'ilmot, observing his silence, continued by way of explana tion: of an improbablejation. 'But come,’he added, ‘I know you are 4; let’s go in.’ So saying Mr. fcot arose and followed by his friend went baelfo the parlor, the latter, no doubt, much wiapd better informed than when he left. In faet c was disappointed and ren dered somewhat by the disclosure he had just heard. But th Ation was but momentary, and he soon threv J • and entered with relish into the festivities’ 68 '!. *casion. As been ten* cur Inn which he had just left, he unconaciouing up ut amid the crowd, the form of Miss Etoin his pt'as in another part of the parlor nowv j ndgi sl de was the man—Colonel Fenton—cot5 traot ”iom he had just received so dubious an »Aj . e m Harry Ivilmot. He was _ ' (Jated manner and she seem ed to be listo 3 on ** a great deal of pleasure and attention. B'P ea , c aid not aspire to anything more than a f “f acquaintance with her, this gave him no sfl&t concern, and Harry, having spied Mr. Glenyseated in a far corner, and talk ing with Miss m palled him in that direction and introduce*fj). Having done this, Mr. mi- mot, with an a'j ^?nded to lie very formal and polite gave hL- ftV{ o the young lady, and, with a muttered reii(i/” \*out the room being close and crowded, led hi' a< ay. There was certainly noth ing very peculi* 1 the action but Eryc fancied that, as his acquaintance gazed after them, there was a snor peculiar meaning lurking about his lips. ThiVievadily accounted for by suppos ing there wasxJit private understanding between him and Mission, or that, inasmuch as she had come from tb j 0 ie of Corinne, she had obtained and impartectc*. his lady love ® u it a 00 Yer m some pleasing information of be Continual. J FOlft YEARS AGO.” Til tell you how it came about, Eryc. ud while there Not long ago I was in the city of Memphis, and while there I got into difficulty one night. 1 haven’t time to explain now but I will some other time' There were three men against me, and 1 suppose they would have made quick work with me, hud not Col onel Fenton, who had never seeu ine before, oome to my rescue. As we had not yet come to blows or shooting, my three assailants, seeing me reinforced, backed down." DRIFTIIf S/*VDS FRCM THE MOUN TAIN P ‘ Yo FOOT-HILLS OF happjST GEORGIA. ciancho A I»rill 3ce .Pt a ainnce ituwd npoii Facts. £$,$.><. W.W0S. paler by i cousin rose somev. hat higher in his estinf < ion than she had ever been previous to DiatvnoC “ iiect, at tliis nleeting some .ail. pl\)J; haughty beauty flashing'in diamonds and cold of heart, but the appearance of the young creature before whom he now found himself was totally different, and, combined with the abrupt introduction and depart ure of Mr. Ethmer, was enough to make the heart of any one less at his ease than was Eryc, quicken its accustomed regular beating. Her form, as she stood before him, was full in its outlines and grace ful, and, though slightly under the usual size of women, possessed all the ease and dignity of move ment which might have been expected of a slender figure and a greater height. Her complexion of peachy bloom, her hair, clustering in masses of rich auburn about her head, with eyes of sparkling gray and a mouth of most bewitching sweetness around which hovered ever a pensive expression relieved agreeably by a constantly recurring smile, formed in Eryc’s young imagination, a modem Hebe on the altar of whose loveliness all men might offer in cense. He had scarcely passed through with the formalities consequent upon introduction when a young gentleman, who had iieen seated in another part of the room, arose, and with no little astonish ment depicted upon his countenance, advanced, and laying a hand upon his shoulder to attract his attention, said: ‘By all that is marvelous, Eryc, where did you drop from V Eryc recognized in the speaker an old friend and classmate of his college days—Harry Wilruot. The cordiality with which two classmates meet in after life, even though there had been no particular friendship between them in other days, every one has seen. And now ‘‘a stranger in a strange land,” the warmth with which Eryc grasped the hand of his friend was all the more genuine and sincere. ‘Tableau !’ whispered to Miss Ethmer a youth of about twenty years of age who had been introduced as Mr. Stacy to Eryc, referring to the attitude of the latter and of Harry Wilmot who had, after the first surprise of the meeting was over, stood with clasped bands. Miss Ethmer smiled more at the quaint humor of the remark than at the little scene it was intended to dramatize and Harry, having overheard the expression, suddenly bethought him- seif and said familiarly to her: •Excuse us, Di; this is an old friend of mine, and I must see him alone for a while - ’ Di, of course, Eryc understood as the pet or fam iliar name and abbreviation for Diana, but what right his friend had to apply it to her lie could not fathom: so he regarded him with a species of ad miring astonishment while he took his ami and was led by him from the apartment out upon a broad, open verandah in front, ‘My dear old fellow,’ said Mr. Wilmot warmly* placing two chairs upon which they seated them- telves. ‘I am overjoyed to see you, but how came you in this part of the worid ?’ ‘You are the same irrepressible genius you always were, Harry,’ returned Eryc smiling at the ardor of his companion; but I can hardly answer your' question in one breath.! ‘ Where did you come from then?’ asked Harry Wilmot. ‘From my uncle’s.’ ‘Didn’t know you had an uncle about here,’ said Harry. ‘You have surely heard of Mr. Jasper Delamere,’ said Eryc. ‘Great heavens !’ exclaimed Mr. Wilmot striking forcibly in bis surprise, upon the arm of his chair with his clenched fist. ‘I never knew or dreamed vou were related to the old gentleman, else I would Rave found out from him your whereabouts and have written to you. Strange, too, that the ident ity of the names never struck me. Well, I do swear !’ and with the last remark as expressive of the emotion then uppermost in his mind, Mr. Wil- mot speculated darkly upon his singular obtuse ness. ‘You seem to be very much at home and at ease here,’ remarked Eryc. ‘ H ell, so I am,’ returned Harry, ‘by virtue of my relationship. 1 was always of that disposition though. But did any of tne rest of your uncle’s family come with you ?’ ‘Yes, ’ returned Eryc, They are all here. But why do you ask ?’ ‘Oh, nothing at all. How long will you remain at your uncle’s ?’ *~*~* ‘Only a short time, I suppose. I am on my way now to join a Mr. Barnes ’ ‘And who the devil is Mr, Barnes ?’ interrupted Mr. Wilmot. ‘Give me time and I will tell you,’said Eryc; and then he told Harry the circumstances under which he was situated- When he had finished, the latter paused) awhile before replying, for he felt that the ‘Let me interrupt you a moment,’ said Eryc, ‘by asking who is Colonel Fenton ?’ He is that shaggy, dark-browed devil who was sitting on your right just before I found you with in. He has a winning, insinuating way about him that makes you take to him immediately. But damn it, there is something else about him that I can’t quite understand.’ ‘I saw nothing remarkable about him during the short time I was in his company,’ said Eryo. Mr. Wilmot shrugged his shoulders thoughtfully in the manner of one who has something in reserve, and then asked suddenly: ‘Have you ever seen the Old Man of the Sea, Eryc ?’ ‘Not that I remember just now,’ returned Eryc with a laugh. ‘Look on Colonel Fenton then, and you will see him,’ said Harry significantly. Eyrie gave Ills friend a stare of inquiry which elicited from him the following reply: ‘Of course after he befriended me at so critical a time, I desired to see and know more of him and ac cordingly, I gave him an invitation to come to s me and he accepted. Now mark the result. H m>nn£<i„with me sometime, drew my mln^j it'possible I slioulR sjBd^rtldly cni^vi**»jj a I and has plenty of money, anA boarus j — best hotel in town. The hints he has dropped duce the impression that he is a gentleman of wealth, and has several large estates in the est Indies, and may the devil eat me, if he does not live a gay life. Has fine wines and horses world without end, and I am never in town but what he presses me to have a round with him. Moreover he is coiistant- ly here and everywhere else where there is any amusement or gathering. But how do you like my cousin, Diana—Miss Ethmer ? You were with her when I found you.’ Ervc was not before aware of this relationship between his friend and the young lady in Question, and readily divining it to be the secret of his inti macy with her, he replied not without a certain de gree of reserve: ‘She is certainly very lieautiful—perhaps more beautiful than any one of her sex I have ever seeu before^ ^ y 0U so ,’ said Harry;* it is impos sible for you to think otherwise when you come to tnmriisrvAll Rut let us co in again. I should bat is the IAPTER XV. Notwi* percept, the severe tests to which the unfortni donor ®]ers had been put during the first mea-li and s'ith the Ramsay family, it had ended m Slnchtsantly than expected, and con vinced tt gua&nt their newly made friends, though rback' 1( j eocentric, were generons and attentive^.. .ngers. And although there were several thin£#onneoted with the various mem bers of the fatily which were hard to under stand, some of their oharaoteristics showed that with proper estivation they might have been among the m^t useful members of society. Their general ignoranoe in the midst of such bountiful profision of almost everything calcu lated to make them prosperous and happy, was a matter for serious thought, and went far to show the importance of a careful consideration of the wants of the mind, as well as those of the body. Ramsay’s farm and all its surroundings gave abundant evidence of continued industry; but bis mind was so benighted that his desires were but little more than those of the oxen wbioh plowed his fields. His table, loaded with good things, showed that much had been done to pro vide for the bidy; but the rude manners of him self and famiy aronnd it, revealed the fact that their aspirat * those which 1 ’* ™$>nd dream and he i„ he i„ ^ o»^ r un Oi -!_-ef'' h. 'met; 0 */®, {but n< : j .flu. . ..u; have met with snob a mia r ertnne as the lose of our hones. But what does mamma and Julius say to our visiting Reville’s house?, ‘For my part,* thoughtfully said Julius, ‘I am perhaps more anxious to go than any one pres ent I think there are good reasons why I should be so. All except myself have seen and convened with this interesting character. I have only heard of him, and that in such a way as to greatly excite my curiosity. His care to avoid me while visiting at yonr house, and the siight evidenoe he gave of the knowledge of my existence by asking Nelly if she had ever seen any one who closely resembled her, as well as in other ways, does not only exoite my curiosi ty, bnt also leads me to doubt the propriety of going to his honse, however much I may desire to do so. Under these eircnmstances.however, my anxiety to see him overcomes my scruples. ’ ‘I see no impropriety in our paying a visit to Prince Reville, ‘ rai l Mrs. Montgomery. ‘Indeed, I have often thongtat ’ A heavy footstep at the door and the strident voice of Mr. Ibunsay interrupted her. ‘Why,* said he ‘you‘uns is all huddled up to gether tbar like a passil of patridges in cole weather. Is that book you’ve got sich a power ful thing that you all git ’round it like the ole ooman‘s tur'reys does round abaskitof corn. It’s long ago made fools oaten Dimpsy and Hepsy; bnt it can't budge Mazln Grace an' Rislum, I tell you. They're too sharp to fool their time away with it. " Tbo Eibul and Hyme book’s enough for me or any body else to read in. I've done my duty, me and Peggy has, to lara our children so; but several year ago thar was a young chap what come round here au’ said he wanted to teach school. I tola him ’twas all stuff and nonsense; but be could talk faster than a cricket can holler, and put Dimps and Heps in a notion that they must lam too. I 'suaded ’em awhil9, an' 1 than scolded ’em awhile ‘bout havip' sich notions; bat they kept on a beggin 1 , ontii I, ole fool like,gin my consent to let ’em go to the feller's school. So they put on their long yeered bonnita, an' went two or three months, an'then come back home a talkin' sich big words that nobody on yeth could nnderstnc' and puttin'on sich high falntin manners, an, sichafixin' up things as you never did see. They even got to making their frocks earns from their mam's an' wearing little whiteaperns all scollupt round the sides. I tole !em if they didn't have manners like me and their mammy, an' Mazin Graoe, an' Rislum, they must stop gwiue to sohooL ‘ ‘I hope,'said Mr. Montgomery, ‘you did not stop them?' Nop replied Ramsay, ‘but I come mighty nigb on to it They kep‘ on a beggin' till I give in agin, an' the next thing I heered they wanted a readin' book jest like thar was no Bi- bul to read in. I could't stan' that but the fool teaoher went an ‘ got ’em readin' books all full of po’try an' sich like, an' I thunk that wouid be the last of it, but it wasn’t. They soon wanted a dick-shinery what larnt them how to ‘jplain an' call their big words. Thinks I, ef he's got ’em readin' books, he might git ’em a dick-shinery too; an' shore enough he did; an* of all spellin' and givin’ out words, an' sayin' over their meanings of as you ever heard. I begun to think everything in creation was agwine to be explained, an so I axed ’em ef John’s daddy was Bob's son, what akin was John to Bob? Thar I got ’em, I did; an' they had to git oaten it by saying it wasn’t in the dick-shinery. An' that's the way these learned folks do every time you fetch 'em up to the tug pin with a real sensible question. I thought the >ns were but little higher than (voh their limits in savage life, 5 (going further. ^ —*r.;a-0.v5ffy." -c fmit trees I '^k-shinery business was agwine to be the last 'they g . .tanusym- '' cor.SE.rn, bat it fc by a *■ —’—to know the curriculum Mr. neither guide aor stay was pro vide 0 *? 8! ie phildren. They grew as their in- clinafcl 1 ® nA e^them, and, so far as their parents were to d > catiDg and drinking marked the boui P fg ^ines of their ambition. With each recurringAer 311 1* 10 °* d man a,9 ° planted g Ta P e vines, and Hio|h his own hands oarefully trained know her w r ell. But let us go in again. not have kept you so long.’ .... ‘One question first,’ said Eryc, ‘who is that young gentlemen I saw just as I entered the parlor who was standing up and talking to a tall young lady by the window? Is he a brother to Col. Fenton? •That was Glenville, I must make you acquainted with him. He is to be married to your cousin ^Indeed!’ exclaimed Eryc, ‘that is nevvs to me But I asked about him because I thought him a brother to your gay West Indian.’ ‘Pooh ! all in your imagination man. If I had to pick out from among all mankind a perfect man I would take Geoffrey Glenville, and, without bemg impertinent, I may say that your cousin is none too good for him. ’ Eryc looked curiously at his friend for a moment without replying. It is true he knew not what change might have passed over his cousin s dispo sition since he left her more than half a score of years ago. He only remembered her as a little maiden of elfish face and frail physioue, full of ca prices which must be carried out and actively en tered Into by all around her, or else they incurred her severe displeasure. This of course, he thought, was to be expected of an only child of indulgent IJ *And what parents of an only child ever yet thought they did wrong to indulge it? It was not not pleasant to Eryc thus to have plainly sigmfied to him the unworthiness of his former little play mate for a man whom he had never seen before; so he made no reply, but continued to e»ze at Mr. H’ilmot as if for some explanation of his singular assertions. And that young gentleman according- * 7 ‘Youno doubt consider it strange that I should speak so of a woman, but you will not tlunk so al ways, nor even a month from now, perhaps. But what I meant to say was this, that your cousm plays with Glenville’s heart as she would with a fish she had hooked, and one of the strangest things I ever knew is that he loves her or permits her to d0 ‘You think he loves her then?’ demanded Eryc. ‘No doubt of it,’ replied Mr. Wilmot, or if he does not he is one of the deepest hypocrites I ever saw. In short, to express my sentiments. I some times think he is either a fool or a hypocrite-a fool if he loves her, and a hypocrite if he does not, for he has strongly induced her to beheve that she's all the world to him. Do you know that they are to be married in the spring—in March? ‘I know nothing beyond what you have told me, •T^eilfthatts the report, and Geoffrey is of Jhat im pression, but it will be put off again. Mark my words. She has put him off three tunes already, and she will not hesitate to do itagain on the slight est pretext; or, if she cannot find an excuse, she will do it for the sole purpose of showing her pow er over him. I am doing this to put you on your guard against her for she will flirt with you before she has been home two weeks.’ ‘I hardly think that probable or even possible, returned Eryc with a quiet but pecuhar smile ‘She will either flirt with you or do its equivo- lent,’continued Harry, ‘she will go around andtell some twenty or thirty confidential fnends, so-call ed that she did, and you will never have an oppor tunity for refuting the slander, for they will never st>eak to you about it, but will only look at you in ^pitying kind of way that would drive you mad in an instant if you could but know their thoughts. And Harry laughed gleefully as if, in prospect, he saw au imaginary Eryc Ichafing under the reports them to twiipi their tendrils at proper places; bnt the miilds of his children were seldom trained to tvtne the tendrils of the heart around such objeots’aa they might under all circum stances, ding in safety, and procure fruits worthy the immortal destiny to which parents should direct those who have been committed to their keeping, and who are made by parental influence, even to an unknown extent, a bless ing or a curse to themselves and country. When Hepsy and Dimpsy conducted the trav elers to the room which they had left they fonnd it brightly lighted. The striped flower-pot had been placed in a distant part of the room, and a huge pine-knot was blazing in the fire-place Nelly's quick eye soon discovered a small vol ume lying on a table near by. She picked it np and found to her surprise that it was ‘Watts’ Im provement of the Mind,’ and she wondered if suoh a book bad any readers in the Ramsay fam ily. But if they were astonished to find such a book in such a place, they were Btrnck with wonder and amazement when they discoverep on the fly-leaf opposite, in a bold, round hand, the name ot Prince Reville, the mysterious friend of whom they had heard very strange things. This led to a farther examination of the the book, and on another page was written in the same bold and elegant hand, the following inscription. “In consideration of her many good qualities in school, this little volume is KESl'KCTl ULLV I'lSKSENTED. TO MISS DRUSILLA RAMSAY; By Her Teacher, 1'liINCE RBY-ILLE.” ‘And so,’ said Mr. Montgomery, thoughtfully, ‘our mysterious friend is known to this family, if indeed Drnsilla be a member of it, and I sup pose she is. It may be that this little book has opened the way for ns to learn something we do not know of Mr. Reville's history. But any rate no harm is likely to oome of asking Mr. Ramsay about him.' •I should think not,’ said Nelly. ‘And by the way,’ she continued after a pause, ‘I heard Miss Hepsy call Dimpsy by the name of Drnsilla sev eral times to-night, and I am satisfied that they are one and the same person. If this bs true, I will ask Miss Dimpsy to tell me all she knows of this oonsiderate teacher of hers.’ Tt is evident,’ replied her father, ‘that the Misses Dimpsy and Hepsy have had educational advantages, which is additional proof that yon are right, Nelly; bnt let ns investigate the mat ter cautiously, for I would not have Mr. Reville know that we are Becking to trace his steps, even accidentally. By so doing we might uninten tionally wound his feelings, Mid place him on guard where he might otherwise not be. ’ •O father,’ said Nelly, ‘you may certainly trust me in this particular; for since yonr revelations to me concerning your first interview with Mr. Reville, I have been convinced that he knows something about my own mysterious history. ’ Nelly bad seldom spoken of her unknown his tory in the presenee of her parents, and her father, wishing to divert her mind from the sub- jeot quickly replied: •I know, my darling ohild. that there is no danger of you disobeying me. Suppose then that we extend our journey as far as his honse, where I am sure all will feel satisfied, at least for two or three days.’ •O,' cried Nelly, ‘that is just to my liking. I imagine we will find more romance in real life while thus sojourning in the country than if we were to ooutinue oar travels to the extent first thought ot I feel eertain this is true of our idratarn this afternoon, though I am sorry we was anxious vill's school. * ‘Why, don‘t you think, ‘ answered Ramsay, nervously, ‘that when the teacher seed I was not agwine to give in to all his tomfoolery 'bout books, he went and got the geerb a bran' new jogtiff'y a piece. It had lots of picters in it of sich things as nobody ever did see. One of ’«m was a great big ball like a pumpkin that they tried to make me think was the worl' we live on, that it wasn’t fiat like a pancake, but roan' like a dumplin’; jest like I was a ole fool shore enough to think that a feller wouldn’t tumble off ef he happened to git on the nnder side, an' the Lord-a-mighty don’t know whar he'd go to. But I tell you the geerls couldn’t make the ole boss believe it, an' it made me sorter mad to think they’d try to fool their daddy, bekase of what jogrifify said about it.’ ‘And did the matter st ip there?’ asked Julius. ‘No sar-ree,’ answered Ramsey, a little soften ed by the kind manner of the boy. ‘No sar-ree it got wasser still. Tho’ they had aready got enough a books to be bothersome to toat, an' bankerrupt their daddy to boot, they still want ed more.’ ‘But Mr. Ramsay,’ said Mr. Montgomery, ‘I understood yon to say that Mr. Reville, the teacher, bought most of the books. ’ •Yes; I did; but I’d a had ’em to buy ef he hadn’t,’ svid Ramsay, a little snappishly. 'Besides there was the time they was a taken up with their foolishness and the stuff it was puttin’ in their heads. Why I went to the school house one day jes to see what they was np to, and of all oarryin’s on you never heard. Dimpsy and Heps pranced up when the teacher called ’em and went on with a long jumblement ot staff as sliok as sop and tater, about how they loved and he loved, a talkin to the teaoher, and how they coaid and would and should love anyhow, not mindin’ me any more’n ef I was a tom oat a settin’ thar on the three legged bench and my yaers a hornin' with shame for their forward ness, I jes spoke my mind oat about it. And the ill-mannered school ohillen sniggered and the teaoher he said as how ‘twas graymer and 'twonld starch np their talk and make it soon’ proper. Bat it was no licknm spooners, fori seed he was a tryin* to fool me, an’ have my geerls a lovin’ him an' every body else. I jes’ took ’em home, an' here I inten' to keep 'em. They took it orfnl hard, bnt I tole 'em yonng folks thinks that ole folkes is fools, bnt old folks knows young folks is the biggest fools in all oreation. An* it's that way with Dimps and Heps yit In spite of all I can do they keep on a bein' monstrashiis fools 'boat lamin' an' sich like ontll they've got the house all kivered over with so many starch np things that yon can’t tell what its made oaten. Then tney've got the yard all fixt like chillen makin* playhouses, an* sometimes they sweep it an' the kitohen three or foar times a day, an' the big house too. They even pat a spell on Rislam, an* he eat a lady's pietnr in that ole gonrd a hangin' up thar on the wall; but the spell didn't last long, Vo., him an ’ Mazin Grace is too smart to take up sioh flamications as the yonng teaoher larnt their sisters.' ‘Mr. Ramsay,* said Mr. Montgomery after a pause, ‘would you please tell ns the name of the teaoher of whom yon have just spoken ?’ ■Sartinly,’ said Ramsay, throwing his hat on the floor and oroesing his legs. 'They call his name Prinee Ravel, or soma sioh name as that Folks say he's a monsns nioe and olnversome feller, an* I speot I'd like him too ef he hadn' t a made my darters my so mnoh love talk, an' tnrned fools gin‘rally. All the scholars swore by him. He’s got a mighty way of makin' folks love him; bnt he don'thave herd work to do it, for it looks like they take to it nsfrslly, an* he takes to them wnst treats hiss with reepeotibil- ity. Way, don’t yon think he sent both my darters what went te his school, a book for a Christmas holler-dav present, an' they some times set up readin’ tne books so lets in the night that I have to make 'em go to bed jsst Bke * was little ohillen.' ‘All this,' mid Mr. Montgomery, Is mot much for the teaoher, and I am glad In basil his snooe88. I am sore be did not tsneh jn daughters to be idle or disobedient' 'No, be didn’t’ admitted Mr. Ramsay. Th? k' are more respeefnl to me and tbeir Si Mi the even Mazin Grace and Rislam, and HI bat my best steer on tbeir bein’ number one wnrken No, that feller Ravel larnt 'em nothin* wrow •cept turnin' their manners roan', an'fthnfool way they've got 'bout books, slates, peasula dickshineries’ jogriffya an’ graymers. Mazin Graoe an’ Rislnm an' the chillen what art mar ried an' gone, never thunk of sich things in all tbeir born days. I tell you these schools is s humbngetion.' Julias had quietly waited until Mr. Ramsay had his say ont on the subject of schools, now he continued his questions, hoping togaiD some information about the mysterious person that so interested him. •How long,' asked he, 'has it been since Mr. Reville taught school in this community ?’ ‘Yes, ‘ replied Ramsay. ‘That's it—that's it. insted of Ravel. ‘Spose you seed his name in the book thar's what made you know it. I'd a mos‘ forgot his name, though ‘taint long sense I seed him, but it's been more'n three years sense he teaebt school here.’ ‘Yes sir, 4 replied the boy. T find his name written In the book, and I see he spells it Rev ille. ‘ ‘Then yon can spell an' read writin' can yon?' ‘Tolerably well. ‘ ‘Sakes alive! you oughter see the yenng teachor write. He can slap it down faster than a gang of pigs can make tracks in a snow storm.’ ‘I see he writes well, and although he is a stranger to me, I feel interested iu his history, How long, Mr. Ramsay, has it been since you saw him last?' ‘You ‘pear to be monsns 'qnisitive ‘bout a stranger, ‘ said Mr. Ramsay. ‘I ask pardon for this seeming rudeness. Though a stranger to me, Mr. Reville is the par ticular friend of Mr. Montgomery and his fam ily. I hope this explanation will excuse our anxiety to hear from him. * ‘Yes,‘ said the old man, a little surprised. •Yes;‘ in course It will excuse you. Ef you an' the Montgomery gal aint no kin, you look mighty like it; an' I ‘spose what one wants to know tother wants to know. It's earns to me that yoa'aus has seen th9 school teacher man, though he's been mighty nigh onto ev'ry whar, ai‘ a mos‘ ev'ry body's had his iutroduoementa. And now, as some of you'uns know him, I mas' answer your questions more perlitelier than I did afore. Well, you see the youngster is a pow'ful feller to hunt an' run through the woods like a wile varmint. He can crack over a buck a runniu' through a thioket iu full tilt jest about as fur as he can see him. Bat ef he was to miss him, I'll be-dog-on ef he oouldn’t oome mighty nigh a cotchin' him in a fair race; for he can run like blazes. An' jump ! gosh, he can jest clean up and down any body in these diggings or any whar also I ever hearn of, you bet. As to flghtin* an' sich like, he wont run in it. an' ev'ry body knows he wont rnn from it. He's monsns friendly an' peaceable; but I wouldn't like to cross his path whar he didn't want any tracks made in it I once seed him fail thar Peggy an' the chilldem is a cornin', an' I'll wait tell they all git squatted roun' an' then I'll tell all I know ‘bout Mr. Rav what you say his name is?’ ‘Reville,' answered Julius. ‘Yes; that‘s it—that's it I sai' I’d tei you door, whence ftie'teifiJ; ‘ iug of heavy feel; preceded the entrance of Mrs. Ramsay, Miss Grace and E slum, avho, after a good deal of noise, seated themselves near the middle of the door Silence being restored, Mr. Ramsay was ex pected to resume his narrative; but suddenly Rislum left his seat, and taking a pair of large shears, cut off a few inches of the cord that com posed the carious ‘devil's candlestick.’ Light ing this at the fire-place, he put it in the un sightly gourd that hung on the wall, and in stantly there appeared a ghastly representation of the human face; this effect being produced by the shining of the light through apertures cut in rade imitation of the chin, mouth, teeth, nose, and eyes ‘Daddy, Eithlum’th lit hith gourd ‘said Miss Grace, addressing her father, and approvingly looking towards Julius as if expecting him to bestow some praise on what she considered the wonderful performance of her brother, who. after hanging np the gonrd, had taken his seat, and was looking aronnd the room with a grin on his face as if he expected to meet with approval. As no saoh indication met his eye, he seemed a little disooncerted; bat his irrepressible father came to the rescue, saying: •You uns dont ‘pear to notioe Rislam’s picter much. Look at it an' and see if you dont think he's a perfect ingennosity. Tho' he's never been to school a minitin all his born days, an* dont know a letter from a pig track, he can beat people what has been to school ever since they was knee high to a dock. Thars Dimpsey nn' Hepsy what has bean to school lots of times, an' he oan beat them all to smashes. They talk about good manners and refinity, an' read Warts on the Mine, bnt for all that they oan't compre- stend their brother a ingennosity. I tell you larnin's all stuffin' an' do turkey. Well, shore enough Dimps aud Heps has come. But that's not here nor thar. I'll go on and toll you 'bout the teacher. When I got my geerls home I went round and seen the neighbors an' tole 'em to stop their children too; bnt somehow they wouldn't mine me this time, an' nary one of them quit school a minute that ever I hearn of. Quinsecontly the feller kep' on a teaching' near the whole year, an'then the folks tried to git him to teaoh another sohool, bnt he wouldn't do it. He went off somewhar way below here, bat I don't know whar, an' aside of that I don't keer mnoh, though he might be a clever feller. As I said afore, all the folks in these diggings, ‘oept me, took a monstrashus likin' to him. an* I don't deny the foot that I ain't got mnoh agin him neither, only he larnt my gals how to do so qnar. Whan he seed what fools folks was about him, he's been back here lots of times senoe he teaoht sohool. When he comes he rides a stavin* big hoss what prances ronnd like a dnok feather in a thunder storm. But that's not all by a ding sort. Don't you think he fetches a whole gang of spotted, slim-tailed dogs with him, an' they can ont-yell creation. An' he's got a sliok shiny rifle what shines in the sun like stars of a cole, frosty night. He calls it Ledford—kaae it ‘fords a heap of lead I reckin'—I don’t know what else. An' the mis'ry of it is he never pokes that gnn to'ards any thing an' palls trigger withoaten a death shoot, shore and aartin. He's party good looking any way, an' when all the boys an' gals what used to go to hia sohool has floot round him to tell him nowdy an' sion like, he gives 'em all a present of some kina, *an then him an' the big boys pata out on a huntin' scrape. When they oome baek they fetoh home all kin* of varmints, an' they akin 'em, an* git np what they call a ’ bar- becurus. Thar they have shootin* matches, ‘an ran foot raoea, an* jump an' cavort round tell night oomee, an' then they finish np the job with a big frolio at somebody's house where they ohoose copartners an' . 'Dance all night tell broad daylight. An’ go home with the gals in the mornin.’