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The House on the Marsh!
-OP. THE
Strange Experiences of a Governess.
BY F. W.
CHAPTER XVIL
I got np next morning directly I waa
Silled, and was down stairs long before
anybody else—but I was glad of that, for I
wanted to explore the garden. It was a
Beautiful, warm, bright morning, and I re
joiced. for it would bring people to Geld-
aarn Church for the harvest thanksgiving.
I went over the lawn, and down tLe alleys,
iikI round and round the flower-beds, and
peeled into the green-houses, and tried to
lee through the steaming glass of the hot
houses, which were locked, when, suddenly,
turning round one of them, I came face to
fa'-e with with Tom Parkes, in his Sunday
alothes, with a key in one hand and a bas
ket of eggs in the other. He was evi
dently disconcerted, and tried by turning
to the door of the hot-house to avoid me.
But I accosted him at once.
“ Tom-Tom Parkes, don’t you know me
—Miss Christie I" I said.
“ Lor’, yes, miss, to be sure, so it is I
Who’d ’a’ thought o’ seeing you here?” said
be, touching his hat with a rather awkward
lurprise.
“ VVhy, you must have known me, Tom!
You looked as if you bad seen a ghost!”
“ Well, the truth is, miss, asking your
pardon,’, said Tom, sheepishly, “ that I
didn’t want you to see me. You see, I’ve
been took on here as extra under-gardener
and help, and the head gardener he don’t
like Loudeuers, and I don’t want him to
know as I’m a London chap. So, if you
Would be so good, miss, as not to mention
as you’ve seen me before, I should take it
kind.”
“ Very well, Tom, I won’t betray you,"
f replied, laughing.
And then ho said, “ Thank you, miss,”
and touched his hat again, and went off
with his eggs. I was very much amused
by this encounter and the important secret
1 was to keep. As if my mentioning that
I had seen Tom at the Alders would neces
sarily entail the awful discovery that he
was a Londoner l
By this time 1 thought I had better go in
and see if any of the other people had come
down to breakfast; and I was sauntering
along, when, ns I got near the house, 1
heard two men’s voices.
“ Bella is getting jealous, Tom."
A grunt in the other voice.
“I say, ain’t it rough on the little onef"
Then I heard Lady Mills’ voice, and
when I got to the door there were eight or
ten people already assembled. * But the two
nearest the door, whom I had overheard,
were a gentleman named. Cole and Mr.
Carruthers. It was Mr. Carruthers who
had grunted. Who was “Bella?” And
who was “the little one?” And what did
“jough on’’moan?
The bells of Denbem Church, which was
close by, had began to ring before break
fast was over, and Lady Mills wanted to
know who was going.
“ I am going, for one,” said Mrs. Clowes,
and she looked across at Mr. Carruthers,
who was helping himself to a great deal of
izAf. .../ *• 4
“ l)o try to make np a respectable num
ber,” said Lady Mills. “You can do just
what you like, you know, as soon as it is
over; and people in the country think so
much of it. We scandalize the neighbor
hood quite enough, as it is, by not going to
bed at ten o’clock, and other wicked prac
tices. And last week we were only
at church out of a party of seventeen.
“ Are you going, Miss Christie? Yes, of
course you are. I’ll go, if you will find all
the places for mo,” said Mr. Carruthers.
And when we got to church—we mus
tered eight altogether—he sat by me, and
picked out from among the books the big
gest church service he could find, which he
put in front of me when the collect was
given out, whispering—
“ Find it for me, please.”
At first I would not take any notice, for
It was just like playing in church; but be
began making such a disturbance, rustling
the leaves of his liook, looking over those
of his neighbors, and dropping with a crash
all those within reach ou the ledge before
him, that I was obliged to find it for him,
and all the other places too, during the ser
vice, just as if he had been a little boy.
But I was very angry all the time, and
when we came out I would not speak to
him. He came however and walked by
my side, while I talked to somebody else,
and at last he said meekly—
“Have I offended you/”
“ Yes,” I said; “ I think you are very ir
reverent.”
“ I did not mean to be irreverent,” he
said, in a still meeker tone. “ But it is so
dull to sit in church and not be able to fol
low the service, and it looks so bad to be
fumbling in one’s book all the time and find
the place only when the parson is a long
■w ay ahead. And you can always find it
in a minute.”
“ You should go to church oftener, and
then you could find the places as well as I,”
rejoined I severely.
“ Yes, but I always have such a lot to do
on Sunday mornings in town,” said he,
mournfully—“ pipes to smoke, and—and
other things. But I'll try to go oftener; I
dare say it will do me good.”
“ I don’t believe going to church does
peo] .e like you any good at all,” remarked
I gravely.
And Mr. Carruthers burst out laughing,
and said it was very wrong of me to dis
courage him just when he wanted to try
to be good.
At luncheon I sat between him and clever
Mrs. Clowes; who described the sermon in
a way that made everybody laugh, and
said a lot of amusing and sometimes un
kind things, as she always did. Presently,
in a rather low voice, she addressed Air.
Carruthers, across me.
“Shall 1 pass you the sherry; or is it
true that you have taken to milk «nri
water?” she asked meaningly.
“ Quite true,” said ha “ And you can’t
think how nice it is—not half so insipid as
you would expect, and a pleasant change
after too many stimulants. Let me giva
you some grapes, Miss Christie.”
And Airs. Clowes turned away her
head, as if there had been something that
hurt her in his answer.
Most of the people spent Sunday after
noon just as if it had not been Sunday
at all, except that nobody rode or drove.
But some went on the river, and some
played lawn-tennis, and some lounged
about and read novels; and others, of
whom I was one, sat under the trees on
the lawn and drank iced champagne,
which is quite the nicest thing I ever tasted.'
I heard the mysterious man-servant give
in order to Tom Parkes, calling him,
‘ Here, you, gardener, what’s your name?”
as if he had never seen him before, and
walked up and down Air. Kayner's garden,
aad gone into Air. Rayner’s stable with
him only two nights before. What a silly
ieilow Tom was with his little mystery! I
pointed out the other man to Mr. Curruth-
ers, and asked if he knew whose servant
he was.
j “ He is mine, and the best I ever had.
j I’ve had him six mouths now, and of late
! I’ve given up thinking altogether; he does
' it for me so much better. ”
I had began to wonder whether this
mysterious man-servant was some poor re-
j lation of Mr. Rayner’s, who had taken to
this way of earning his living, but was
' ashamed of it, and who came privately to
! see his richer connections, to spare them
I the talk of the neighbors about what peo
j pie like the Reades, for instance, would
| certainly consider a great disgrace. So I
, said nothing more about him to Air. Car
ruthers, who was sitting near me, smoking,
I and teasing me to read a Sunday newspa
per, which I did not think right. So at
last he began reading it aloud to me, and
then I got up and ran away with Air.
| Cole to the fruit-garden, where he gath-
I ered plums for me; and we looked at the
i chickens, and watched the fish in the pond,
and threw crumbs to them, which they
I would not take any notice of until dinner
l time.
| Air. Cole had cut me some beautiful
i flowers to wear in the front of my frock,
for 1 had resolved not to wear my pendant
! again; but my muslin gown did not look
! nearly so well without it, and I thought
! 1 would just take it out and see
| the effect of it at my throat close to the
I flowers, and then put it away again. But,
| when I unlocked my desk and opened the
shabby case in which Mr. Rayner had
given it to me, the pendant was gone,
j Yot,fling else had been disturbed; the sov-
| -reign my uncle had given me lay un-
I touched in its little leather bag close by;
| the notes I had had from Laurence, tied
up with pink ribbon, were just as 1 had
J left them. I searched my desk, my
j pockets, every corner of the room, though
! I knew it would be no use. For I remem
bered quite well', sleepy as I had been the
night before, that I had shut it up in the
case carefully, turning it about for a few
moments in my band to watch it flashing
in the candle-light.
It had been stolen—by whom I could not
guess. I sat down after my fruitless
search, trembling and too much frightened
to Cry. For there is something alarming
in a mysterious loss like that, an uncom
fortable sense of being at the mercy of
some unknown power, apart from the cer
tainty that one of the people about you is a
thief. At first I thought I would go to
Lady Mills and tell her privately all about
it; but my courage failed me; for if my
loss got known there would be an unpleas
ant scene for all the servants and a sense
of discomfort in the entire household; be
sides several of the servants in the house
were those of the guests, and not under
Lady Mills’ authority. It ■was just as like
ly that my pendant had been taken by one
of them; and everybody would be indig
nant at the idea of his or her servant be<
ing suspected of the theft. So I resolved
to say nothing about it, but to bear my
loss, which 1 felt more than I thought pos
sible, in silence. After all, if I could never
wear it without exciting more attention
than I cared for, and surprising people by
my possession of an ornament which they
persisted in thinking extremely valuable,
it was better that it should have disap
peared. I began to think it had already
had an unwholesome effect upon me, by
my secret wish to wear it again.
So I went down stairs to dinner with a
piece of plain black velvet round my throat,
told Mrs. Cunningham, who asked why I
did not wear my pendent, that I had come
to the conclusion that it was too handsome
an ornament for a girl in my position, and
heard Mr. Carruthers say that the same re
mark would apply to my eyes.
It was a fine night, not cold, though
there was a light breeze; and after dinner
some of us went into the garden, and I
among them, for I was afraid they would
make me play the waltzes again, although
it was Sunday. One of the gentlemen did
say—
“Let us ask Miss Christie to play for
us.”
But the lady he spoke to replied, in a
rather offended tone—
“ We need not always trouble Miss
Christie; and I am sure she would rather
not be disturbed. I just tried the waltzes
over this morning, and they are quite
easy.”
“Just tried ’em over!” muttered Mr.
Cole, who was standing by me in the con
servatory. “ She was hard at it hammer
ing at the piano all church-time.”
It was late in the evening when Mr.
Carruthers, who had been in the billiard-
room with some of the others, came out
aud sauntered, with a cigar in his mouth,
up to the grape-house, whore I was stand
ing with Sir Jonas, who had taken a
fancy to me and insisted on cutting me
some grapes straight from the vine.
“ Lady Mills wishes me to say that Miss
Christie will get her death of cold if she
comes out of the hot-house into the cold
air with nothing around her shoulders,”
said Mr. Carruthers, when we were at the
door.
“ Bless me—so she will! Fetch her a
shawl, Tom.”
“I have anticipated the lady's wants;
I always do,” said Mr. Carruthers; and he
wrapped round my head and shoulders a
beautiful Indian shawl belonging to Lady
Mills.
“Take her in quickly, Tom. I should
never forgive myself if she caught cold,"
said kind old Sir Jonas anxiously, standing
at the door of the grape-house with his
knife still in his hand.
“ Nor should I,” muttered Air. Carruth
ers. “ Now run, Miss Christie.”
I was not a bit cold, and I told him so;
but he said, “Never mind—won’t do to run
risks,” and put his arm in mine, and made
me ruu as fast as I could until we were
round the corner of a wall, out of Sir
Jonas’ sight.
“ And now,” said he, “We’ll run another
way.”
And he took me down a long path be
tween apple and pear trees until we got to
a side gate that I had not seen before.
“Iam going to take you for a walk,"
■aid he.
“ But it is so late, and I am dressed so
queerly.”
“ Never mind. You are not sleepy, are
you?”—and he looked down into my face.
“No, your eyes are quite bright and—
wide awake. And nobody goes to bed
pare until they are sleepy, wtuen is a very
good plan. As for your dress, I think it
very becoming—very becoming—quite Ori
ental. And. as it istoo late for anybody
else to be abont, and. too dark for them to
see jgm if they were, I am the only person
you need consult."
So we went through the gate and by a
narrow foot-path over the grass down to
the river. We stopped when we got there,
by the boat-bouse, and Air. Carruthers said
i it would be a lovely night for a sad
j “Just down there to the broad,” said he,
j “and along that pafli of moonlight, up to
i those trees and back, again. Wouldn’t it.
I be jollyr
I “ Yes, if it were not Sunday," I said
timidly.
No other objection occurred to J5e. He
looked down at me, as if hesitating about
something’ and then said—
Y'ou are right. You see I respect your
scruples, if I do not share them;” and he
, took out his watch. <r It is a quarter of
twelve. By the time I have got thq boat
read}' it will be AXoqday morning, and then
there will be nothing against it.”
i He had one foot in the boat before I
could do more than say—
“ But, Mr. Carruthers, it is so latei
What would Lady Mills say?”
“i’ll make it # all right with Lady Mills;
and you are such a good little gill that no-
'liody will think anything of what you
do.”
I did not understand this speech so well
then as I did later; but it gave me a sen^
of uneasiness, which however was but mo
mentary, for he talked and made me laugh
until he had the boat ready, and we heard'
the big church-clock strike out twelve.
1 • “ Now, unless that clock is fast, our con-^
sciences are free. Give me your hand.* 1
! Step carefully. 'There you are.”
I was in the boat, smiling with pleasure,
yet ready to cry out at every movement,
for I had never been on the water before.
“There isn’t much wind; but I think
J there is enough to bring us ba<^k, «o I’ll
! just scull down the stream to the broad.
Take the lines—so—and pull whichever-one
I tell you.” ,
| I disengaged my hands from the shawl I
was shrouded in, and overwhelmed by a
sense of my new responsibility, did as I
was told without a word. And, !as there
was not much steering required, I fell to
thinking of Laurence. I had had to talk a
great deal during the last two days; but
I whenever I was not t Iking my thoughts
flew back at once to him, as they did
■ now.
“ You are not think! eg of me,” said Air.
Carruthers quietly.
I started, blushed, and pulled the wrong
line at once.
“Nevermind,” said he meekly—“only
it’s ungrateful. He isn’t half so much ab
sorbed in you as I am.”
“ Absorbed in mel I was thinking ol
—of Mrs. Manners.”
“ Happy Airs. Manners, to be able to call
up such a smile of beautitude on the face
of a beautiful girl!”
“ Who did you think it was, Air. Car
ruthers?”
“If I tell you, you will upset me, or
command me to land you at once.”
“No I won’t. And you wouldn’t pay
any attention if I did.”
“ Let me come and sit by you, and I’ll
tell you. We can drift.”
So he came and sat by my side, and di
rected our course by splashing in one of
the sculls, first on one side and then on the
other, as we went on talking.
| “ Why is it,” he asked suddenly; “that a
! woman never cares for. the man who lovee
! her best?”
| The question, which was quite new to
. mo, startled-fare. * ' “
I “ Doesn’t she—ever?" I asked anxiously.
I “ I—I am afraid not,” said he in a very
low voice, bending his face to mine with a
sad look in his eyes that troubled me.
| “ But how is she to tell?” I asked tremu
lously.
i “I think she can tell best by the look in
his eyes, when they are bent on her,” he
whispered, with a long steady gaze which
. disconcerted me.
j I turned away my head.
“ If,” hi i went on, still in the same soft
voice quite close to my ear, “ she raises her
i lips to his, and then tries to read in his
' eyes the amotion he feels for her ”
j “But I did,” said I quickly, turning to
him with my heart beating fast at the re
membrance of Laurence’s first kiss,
j Air. Carruthers drew back, stroked his
mustache, aud looked at me in quite a dif-
| ferent manner.
“Yon have not lived all your life in the
I country, Alias Christie, 1 think,” said he
j dryly-
| And I saw in a moment, by the change
in his look and voice, what I had done. He
had been making lpve to me while I was
thinking of nothing but Laurence. I put
out my hand to his very gently, and
■aid—
“Don’t be offended with me, Air. Car
ruthers. I dare say all you say is true; but
I am so fond of him that I cannot help
thinking he does love me best.”
I said this just to comfort him, for I
could not really have doubted Laurence for
the world. He took my hand and kissed
it, but not, I thought, as if he cared about
it very much, and then he said wo had bet
ter think about getting back; so he turned
the boat round and put up the sail, and,
the wind having freshened a little, we got
back in a very short time, not talking
very much; but we were quite good friends
again, for my mingled delight and fear
amused Air. Carruthers.
When we landed at the boat-house, tb°
church-clock was just chiming the half
hour past one. The lateness of the hoar
shocked me.
“ Never mind.” said he. “ They are sure
not to have all gone to bed yet. I’ll take
you in by a side-door I know, and you
shall slip into the library and open a big
book before you. And I’ll bring in Cole
and one or two others, and Bay we didn’t
know what had become of you; and you
can pretend to have fallen asleep over a
book.”
“ But why should I do all that?” said I.
“ I haven’t done anything to be ashamed
of. You said Lady Mills would not
mind.”
“ No, of course not, my dear child; I’ll
tell lady Alills all about it. Don’t trouble
your head about that. She won’t say a
word to you, aad you need not say a word
to her. But none of the other ladies could
have done a thing so unusual as you have
in your innocence—and—and Sir Jonas
would scold you for your rashness, and say
you might have taken cold."
“But it wouldn’t look innocent to pre
tend I had never been out at all. Mr. Car
ruthers. And I wasn’t alone; I was with
you—so I was all right. I dare say Lady
Mills has not gone to bed yet. I’ll go and
•• The later tBe "better, my dear, I should
say,” said Mrs Clowes, in her most catting
tone.
But Lady Mills’ face was lightened as
she looked at ms
“ Don’t you know, my dear, that Air.
Carruthers is one of the most dangerous
men "
Then she stopped, for Mr. Carruthers had
come into the room; and, turning from me
to' him, she said, in such a stem voice that
,it made me tremble—
“ Tom, aren’t you just a little ashamed of
yourself j ”
And he answered very gravely—
“ Perhaps, but that doesn't matter. This
inquisition is out of place, Stephana, for it
ii easy to see that to that child night and
day are all the same; and, if I had been my
respected father in iniquity himself, she
would have been none the worse for my
society. It was very sensible of you to
come to Lady Mills, child,” said he to me
kindly.
And he shook hands with me, and Lady
Mills kissed me, and Mrs. Clowes gave me
a cold little bow; and they sent me off to
bed without knowing even then the enor
mity of the breach of propriety 1 had
commit ted.
Hir Jonas, who was going up to town the
next morning, was to drive me to the Ai
ders, : iH then go on to Beaconsburgh sta
tion. Every one—nearly every one, for
Mrs. Clowes never came near me at all—
bade me a very kind good-by; and, just as
d wws citting in the phaeton, waiting for
oSir Jonas to take his place beside me.
Gordon, Air. Carruthers’ mysterious serv
ant , i aineup to me in his stolidly respect
ful manner, and said—
“I think this is something of yours,
ma’am. You must .jiave dropped it, for I
fcitt! it-cn the stairs, and I am afraid it
has been slightly injured.” And he put my
pendant into my hands.
* I was so much astonished that he was
gone before I could even thank him; and
then, turning it over in my hands, I found
that the little shield on which the initials
were engraved had been wrenched off.
TV as Gordon himself the thief, and had
he repented? Or bad the person who took
it been ashamed to restore it in person? Or
had I rtaliy dropped it, and only dreamt
that I put it away?
TO BE CONTINUED.
And I ran away before he could prevent
me, and found Lady Alills and Mrs. Clowes
in the drawing-room, the former looking
anxious and grave, the latter hard and
angry.
“ My dear child, where have you been!
We thought you were lostd” Her voice
trembled.
“ Oh, Lady Mills, I am so sorry I went
on the water with Mr. Carruthers. He
said you wouldn’t mind; bat I ought to
have known better when it was so lata." i
OSS HOUSEHOLD.
Home Hatters, Spicy Letters
^Domestic Hints, Etc.
“Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
Be it-rw so humble there’a noplAcelike home.’
A Voice lr«m ibe Farm.
Well, here 1 am, after a hard day’s work.
I would like to talk if I had anybody bnt
myself to talk to; bnt you see old folks like
to go to bed early, and, though only eight
o’clock, they have retired and left me “alone
in my glory.” Words cannot express how
grateful I am to those who have encouraged
me by iheir kindly notice—first the gifted
Mada and then Viva and Mack, my favor
ites.
I have named a beantifnl young horse in
honor of you, dearest Muda Hetnur, bnt I
call her by tho sweet, romantic name of
Maud EuBter.
You have-rebuked me, Viva, bnt you most
remember ’hat each household angels as
you spot'-, *f, are rare. I imagine yon are
ont.,of ones that are appre-
? ■! thaO L& -/ : -*»
5o full of ibve, life, hope and happiness that
don’ot and. despondency can find no en
trance. Nothing would give me more pleas
ure than to aceept your invitation to go
over and sit by yon, bnt every time I think
of it my heart fails me. This will explain
why I fly from the face of strangers. It is
owing to treachery on the part of my heart;
bnt unless yon have felt the peculiar sensa
tions of heart-fai'ing, you can’t sympathize
with me. It is awful.
I should value your friendship, Mack, very
much. I have never had but one friend in
my life, but I dare say you and I have plen
ty of tastes in common to beoome splendid
friends. If you are fond of horses and dogs,
and enjoy a race after “Brer Rabbit,” that
is sufficient. It doesn’t matter whether you
like to work on the farm or not, though I
don’t believe I would be satisfied anywhere
else. This is a busy time with country folks,
but we are not far from the creek, and I fish
when I get the chance.
I enjoy the Sunny South immensely, and
often wish it was a daily. I hope Dick Daring
will give ns another lively letter soon. His
“nigger talk” was better than Uncle Remus
or Bill Arp.
Henry Cokerin, I heard that when Tom
Goldsmith wrote that letter to the House
hold he really thought that Dude Winfall
was dead, bnt he was found to be only in a
trance, and is now perfectly well and as
oonobited as ever, but afraid to show it.
Richard Penfield and Qaien Sabe, “ac
cept the admiration” of Bum.
The Little Ladr Artist.
I met a winsome little lady whose patient
smile 8nd beaming eyes of love for all God’s
creatures, attracted me so irresistably, that
I determined to seek and cultivate her ac
quaintance. I found her in a little band
box cottage, the walls of which were covered
or hung with pictures from her tiny hand.
On remarking the beauty and fine exeention
of some, she said she had “painted many
years for bread, and now she loved it so,
she must do it once in awhile.”
Sometimes I found her ill on a sofa, smil
ing in pain, when she said it was “only a
little neuralgia in her arm and side,” then
forgetful of .self, would entertain so suc
cessfully, that I lingered near her. She was
so frail, that I feared her days were num
bered. Once when I called she saw me from
the door of her second room behind the par
lor and said, “ccme right in, I know you’ll
excuse”—she was busy mixing paints on her
pallet, and handed me some large oards—
one a Calla Lily and other flowers she had
finished as a contribution to the bazar.
They were beantifnl. and as life-like as art
oan produce. She looked so pale, I ven
tured to say “you are not equal to this, I
fear.” “Yes, I guess so—and that reminds
me of something I must tell you of long
ago. I used to get milk every morning and
sometimes strawberries, from an old Irish
woman; once they lay so beautifully in her
basket that I said to her, ‘I’ll take your ber
ries and basket this morning, I want them
as they are,’ so when she came again, I had
them on canvas; she looked wonderingly,
admiringly at them, and then looked at me
and sighed and said, ‘pity that such hands
Bbould ever die.’ ” What a delicate oom-
pliment from the Irish woman.
•The husband of my little friend, Mr.
Blane, bought a little place some two milee
from the city, where he made a oozy little
cottage with lake front, where she could be
out doors rowing or tending her flowers.
After some months I made her a visit, found
her happy and beaming with color and her
health much restored. Soon she left the
room and returned with a little girl of 12
years, whom she introduced as Mary Smith
Blane, at which the little one looked so
gratefully happy, that I guessed the truth.
Little Mary’s parents died when she was
quite young, in Virginia; her mother’s last
request was that she should be placed in the
Episcopal Orphan Home, where she was
, ery happy, had dolls and toys, and all were
kind to her. A lady ooming South took her
from her home, and for six months or a
year treated her as a servant and in addi
tion, was cross and unkind. Mrs. Blane
took Mary as her own; and she told me
Mary’s birthday would oocur on the follow
ing Saturday, and she had invited about a
dozen little girls to pass the day; to enjoy
playing, swinging, rowing, bathing, with
dinner, ice-cream, cakes and candies. Little
Mary is as happy as her mother in heaven
could wish her to be. And my little friend,
Mrs. Blane, is one of the jewels of earth.
Ectehpe.
This oertainly mast be one of the days we
read of. I imagine it was jnst such a night
when the earl “went away” in that fine book
of Miss Muloch’s, “A Noble Life.” If the
band has not read this book, they should do
so, for it is a lesson all should learn. I
started out on the weather and rambled off,
and as it is at present not very agreeable,
will keep on by telling of my latest books:
Talemachus, a fine translation; Portia, ohe
of the Duchess’ novels, and of course de
lightful, and one of the Daudets “L’F *an-
geliste.” I must say it was just hateful. I
can’t enjoy anything that makes you feel
horrible forebodings as to the principal
characters. There is plenty of misery and
sorrow in life without writing it down for
people to dream of. As long as whiskey
and politics are as badly mixed as at present
we will have plenty of trouble. I hear some
one say whiskey and politics are not men
tioned in L’Evangeliste. True, but if there
is a true foundation for the book, let it be
buried in the hearts of the sufferers. Sor
row paraded that way carries a tinge of im
probability with it.
1 wish you all could have been here at the
centenary celebration. All things were
worked together for its success; even to the
weather was propitious, allowing us to get
home before raining a drop.
There is never a Sunday too long for me.
Tt is the “golden clasp that binds together
the volume of the week.”
I wonder what all the Householders think
of our cramped quarters? A few have quit
uulil there is more room, and if that time
doesn’t roll along more will do so.
I have been visiting at other Households,
but return to my own love with increased
devotion. Many poets are among us, but
never a line are we favored with. Too bad!
Perhaps we could appreciate some if not
too “high-fainting.” Try us, some one. If
you don’t, I may be tempted to do so, and
you’ll always be sorry.
I have TaiBed four mocking birds this
year, and all of them sing. If you want
strong birds, and to be Bure of their song,
count the white feathers in the wing. If
nine in succession it will sing.
I don’t care a fig for a bird myself, as the
yard is fall of them, and I am raising these
for my less fortunate friends.
Speaking of figs reminds me that they are
now in their prime; and right here let me
tell those who never saw a tree that they are
a fruit without a sign of bloom; the fig
comes out as perfect when small as when it
is grown.
Many of the old members responded, but
not the majority by any means.
I received a letter from one of the mem
bers who was an old schoolmate; and speak
ing of how many of onr class had married
unhappily or nnfortnnately, she said; “I
often wonder if such will be my fate. I
pray it may not; my life is very happy, and
I would not exchange places with any of
them, though I think it is best to marry, and
at some time I expect to love and marry
some good man. I pray that God may di
rect me jin that most important step, and
consequently I expect to do well with His
help.” Isn’t that the right view to take of
it?
„ .Farmer gillie come rom. and tell us of
Syoor crops*'’ T’he^e is uothmg x love mors
than farming. I have hnn no f.ctm.1 ex
perience, bat every chance I get I goto the
country, and always go to see the fields.
Some time I will give you a chapter on oows
and chiokens, two of my hobbies.
Barton, I hope yoa have my letter before
now and have one on the way to tell me all
about it
Grey Eyes, where have you hidden ? We
want yon on a front seat
Old Maid, when will yon send your “Leaves
from Life ?” Yon know your letter was pub
lished, and appreciated, too.
Dear Mrs. Bryan, yonr sketch of the young
girl marrying so unhappily has made many
inquire if you really knew the parties, for
some seem to recognize them. The only sad
thing is, no two have the same couple in
their minds. May be—there comes the
shears.
Friends, farewell; I love yon all.
Ela.
TUTT’S
PILLS
torpid bowels,
DISORDERED LIVER.
. and MALARIA.
From these sources arise three-fourths ol
tlie of the human ntce. These
symptoms imlieate their existence; Loss ol
Appetite, Jlotrels costive, Sick Head
ache, fullness after eating, aversion to
exertion of body or mind, Eructation
®»°*» Irritability of temper, Low
spirits, a f'-elmg of h iving neglected
£ome duty, HXzxmess, Fluttering at tbe
Dlsgwtted a» being “Only a
Woman.”
1 am afraid dear householders, you will
not wish me a hearty welcome when you find
I come in a mood that is anything else but
angelioaL
Not because, by our Star’s good sense, my
last letter was gently wafted into regions
unknown. Oh no! Even the long waiting
for the judges to deoide from the mighty
array of stories, which one is the best, has
not caused this “evil spirit,” (though it does
have a faint resemblance to Jack waiting
for tbe turtle to sing. Shall I then acknowl
edge the reason ? It is, I am thoroughly
sick and disgusted with being “only a wo-
mPD.” For how mneh room in this busy,
throbbing world, has mankind given us to
climb ? They seem to think we should be
perfectly oontented to sit at the foot of the
ladder and applaud while they ascend. And
if one of these great ones should be so un
fortunate as to fall into the gutter, (which,
they often do,) we must be ready with our
tears and healing salves to raise him and
“push” him up again. Well for the last
fifteen hundred years we have faithfully
done this, but now it is getting a little too
monotonous. We women of the nineteenth
century, with hearts as loving and kind as
our ancestors, are not satisfied with the
husks that are doled out to us—we want to
taste ourselves of the fruit. That is we wish
to be independent, even of the paltry sums
whioh the generosity of the masculine heart
prompts them to fling down to os poor toil
ers at the bottom round. Who would deny
if there were more of ns in the busy work
shops of life, one would not read so often of
the number of absoonding treasurers who
leave behind them penniless families to
mourn over the loss of their hard earned sa
vings.
God speed the day when women shall in
deed be free, then and only then, will their
mflnenoe for good be felt and appreciated.
Clio.
PALMER’S Perfumes. EXQUISITE.
PALMER S Toilet Soaps. LOVELY.
PALMER’S Lotion, the great skin onre.
PALMER’S Invisible, the ladies’ delight
PALMER’S Manual of Gage Birds free.
WESLEYAN
FEMALE INSTITUTE,
STAUNTON, VIRGINIA.
Opens September 2Z. 18S4. One of the Fibst
Schools fob Young Ladies in the United
States. Surroundings beautiful. Climate un
surpassed. One hundred and forty-three board
ing pnpils from eighteen States. TERMS-
AMONG THE BEST IN THE UNION. Board,
Washing, English Course, Latin, Fiench, Ger
man, Instrumental Music, etc., for Scholastic
year, from September to June, $238. For Cata
logues write to
Rxv. Wx. A. HARRIS, D D., President
Staunton, Virginia.
‘'latte ring
”•* -—— '• histilv coi*
ored Urine, t OASTIP YTlO.Nr and de-
mand the use of -'i remedy that acts directly
“““er-lver. Asal-iver niediciue TUT S
jeil.l.s have no equal. Their action on tne
Kidneys and Skin isal^o prompt; removing
■Ut impurities through th*-se three “ scav-
engetrs of the system.“ producing fippe-
lte, sound digestion, regular stools, a clear
sKm.ind a vigorous bode. TI TT'S PII-LS
nausea or griping nor interfere
wirn d'Uiv work and are a perfect
ANTIDOTE TO MALARIA.
FEErs like a NEW. MAN.
‘1 have hud Dyspepsia, with Consiipa- .
no -, two years,and have tri. d tendiffetent
kinds of piiis, and TEXT’S are the first
that have done me nnv good. They have
cleaned me out nicely. My appetite is
splendid, food digests readilv, and I now
lui\ e natural passages. J feel like a new
man. ..1). EDWARDS, Palmyra, O.
Sold everywhere,35c. Oltice,44 Murray St.,N.Y.
Gray Hain or Wiuskers changed in-
St-antly to a Glx>ss.Y Black by a single an-
plication of tiiis Dte. Sold by Druggists,
or sent by express on receipt of SI.
Office, 44 Murray Street, New York
TUTT’S MANUAL OF USEFUL GECFIPTS FRFC
368 Xy
My Frends
monthly on Pianos, or $5jic
, and
A PRIZE:
SAKES ALIVE!
I’VE DONE BOUGHT
A Pianer.
I say hit fer a fack, an’
what's more, I done saved
a clean $S0. by buying hit
from 1XUI)E.\ AND
K ATES’ . outhern Mu
sic House, Savannah, Ga.
l'hsr’s no yuse in talkin,’ ef yo liaint got a Pianer
or a Orgin in yure house yo will never know what
rale simon pure happiness is, nntci yo git one' an’
when yo du, jess take a womau’s advice, an’ save
money by buyin’ hit at
Ludden & Bates’ Southern Music House.
They’re the men fur my money. No swindlin’
fur them. They don’t humbug yo with offers of
gold dollars for SO cents, or $1,000 Pianers fur
$200, but jess give yo dollar fur doliar yure
money’s w< rth to a cent. They U do exactly as
they agree, in offering tu save yo money. I my
self, am one of twenty thousand delighted (see
me smile) purchasers who have bought of them
in the last fifteen years. See what they offer:
PIANOS AND OKttANS.
PfAWAS—Rosewood, 7-Ociave, *qll» r S
Large Size, C»rved I.eg-, Oversitnng
Bh«s, All Improvements. Only $210.
Upright.. $223. ti-anil ‘q i»r.», 7}4
Oct., $223. From Old and Reliable Makers.
Sweet toned, perfect and durable. Good for a
lifetime.
WKOANS — Walnut u«se«. Extended
Top. two arts ReeiiM, 3 Stop-, only $33;
Fn»r M ts Reeds 7 Stop., only $65; 9
s>top.. $7<*. In elegant cases, richly orna
mented; guaranteed in tone, construction and
durability. ,
TV- 1 ni'et-clSefc’iiiaii.ov" S..Y 1>.V. -JO Uihei'en-T'
styletj to select from. Utist installments, $1j
With each PIANO, a good Stool and Cover.
With each ORGAN, a good Stool & Instructor
With each PIANOor ORGAN,a Book of Music
And so cap the climax they actually deliver the In-
strument to your nearest depot or landing.
ALL FREIGHT PAID.
Take my advice; they did fair by me, and they
will do the same by yo. But don’t try tu beat
them down, fur they have ONL Y ONE PRICE,
an’ they stick tn hit like a coon to a tree. Buy of
them, an’ they will satisfy yo or pay back yure
money. Send youre name an’ poetoffice, an* tell
’em what yo want, an’ they’ll send yo mor’n a
peck of catalogues, circulars an’ price lists, which
will help yo pick out the Instrument yo want.
Jess put on your letter:
Ludden & Bates' Southern Music House
Savannah, Ga.
an’ hit will go rite, an’ yo’il git an answer in a
jiffy, fur they aU git up soon in the mornin’, I kin
teU yer. Your’n,
Betsy Hamilton Higgins.
P. S.—They wanted me to be their Agent fur
this settlement, but I haint got no time jess now,
an’ I don’t reckon hit would pay, no how, as the
folks is so down on sich things. But I don’t keer
ef they air, my Pianer ie here tu stay, ef the hole
ettlement gits down on me about hit.
SAVED HER LIFE.
From b cow.
In August, 1881, it was discovered that my son
wife was in the last stages of consumption. She
was coughing incessantly and at times would
discharge quantities of pns from her lungs, could
not sleep or retain anything on her stomach, and
we thought it only a question of tiime when life
would be compelled to give way to the fell de
stroyer. After all other remedies had failed, we
got Brewer’s Lung Resterey and began it in very
small doses, as she was very weak. She soon be
gan to improve; continued the remedy and was
restored to life and health, and is to-day better
than she has ever been before, I regard her res
toration as neariya miracle, for which she is in
debted to Brewer’s Lung Restorer.
B. W. Bonneb, Macon, Ga.
Brewer’s Lung Restorer is a purely vegetable
preparation, contains no opium, morphine, bro
mide or any poisonous Bubstance. Send for cir
cular of Jong list of wonderful cures,
Lamab. Rankin & Lamab. Macon.Ga.
Send six cents tor postage, and
receive free, a costly box of goods
which will help all, of either sex,
to moee money right away than
anything else in this world. Fortunes await the
workers absolutely sure. At once address Tbui
A Go.. Augusta. Maine.443—Xy |
CONSUMPTION.
I I have a positive remedy for the above disease; bjr its qm
thousands of casea of the worst kind and of lone standing
bare been cured- Indeed, so strong Is my faith in its efficacy.
that I will send TWO BOTTLES FKBK, together with a YAlZ
FABLE TBEATI9E on this disease, to any sufferer. Give Sww
prase 4 F* 0. address. DlL T. ▲. 8L0CUX, Ul ?sari tL, 2f. T,
ATTENTION AGENTS
We offer Great Iadaceneati
to A«e ■tw wishing to engage in a pleas
ant, profitable and permanent business. Our
business is painting LAKwG FOR.
TRUTH FROvf D4GIJERRO.
rfPES, AVI BRO TYPES, PHO-
TOGRLPH8, WE HR. or any kind
of a Small Pieture. Ail civilized people like
to look upon and admire good piotureB.
What affords more pleasure than the
FAMlLt PORTRlim?
We want at least one Reliable person
<n every county not alretdy occupied, to
TAKE OISE of OUR ATTRAC
TIVE Portraits, Introduce the work and
take orders for the same.
We GUARANTEE A TRUE spy
of the picture sent os to enlarge from and
the return of the small picture.
Experience in, or knowledge of onr borih
ness is not necessary—for the agent.
We want YOIJ to engage with us tf pos
sible. Yon cannot posriwy lose anything by
trying It. Write for foil particulars. Ad
dress Southern Art Association,
Thurman’* Block, Whitehall streeet..
s2j-iy Atlanta, Sa.
DISTINCT HUNT