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THE OLD STORY. He came across the meadow pass That summer eve of eves; The sunlight streamed along the gr*M And glanced amid the leaves; And from the shrubbery below, And from the garden trees, He heard the thrush's music flow And bumming of the bee*. The garden gate was swung apart, The space was brief between, But there, for throbbing of his heart, He panaed perforce to lean. He loan'd upon the garden gate; He look’d, and scarce he breathed; Within the little porch she aate, With woodbine overwreathed. Her eyes upon her work were beat, Unconscious who was nigh; But oft the needle slowly went, And oft did idle lie. And ever to her lips arose Sweet fragments faintly sung; But ever ere the notes could close She hushed theorem her tongue. Oh ! beauty of my heart, he said, Oh I darling, darling mine, Was ever light of evening shed On loveliness like thine ? Why should I ever leave this spot? But gaze until I die ! A moment from that bursting thought She felt his footsteps nigh. One sudden lifted glance—but one— A tremor and a start; So gently was thejr greeting done, That who would guess their heart? Long, long, the sun had sunken down, And all his golden trail Had died away to hues of brown In duskier hues that fail. The grasshopper was chirping shrill— No other living sound Accompanied the tiny rill That gurgled underground; No other living sound unless Some spirit bent to hear Low words of human tenderness And mingling whispers hear. —Irish Song. MltS. CLIFFORD’S MISTAKE. [From Arthur’* Homo Magazine.] \ “Oh, dear 1” It was a sigh of weariness, and poor, tired Mrs. Clifford sank for a moment Into a luxurious easy-oliair. Perhaps I should not say “poor.” Her hus¬ band was called by his friends “com¬ fortably well off.” Tired, she certainly was. From dawn till dark her feet must be in every place, her hands must toil and toil that there be no creak nor jar in the household machinery. Kitohen girls she had tried, but they .^nly brought extra oare, she said, and she was glad to be independent. To-day had been unusually busy and the parlor had been left undusted till afternoon. That was why she* happened in while her daughter’s city friends were there. Of course she had hastily retreated. Close by the door stood that inviting chair, and for once Mrs. Clifford yielded to her longing for rest. She could hear the gay voices in the other room, but took no notioe of them till Izzie ex¬ claimed, lightly: “Oh, that was only the woman who works for us. She did not know any one was here. What were you saying about the bride, Madge ?” And then the talk flowed on as before, broken now and then by a ripple of laughter. Mrs. Clifford heard no more. She forgot her pain and weariness; she forgot the pile of sewing awaiting her in another room. Like a flash her mind traveled back nearly a score of years. Izzie ami Beba were babiea again, and ■he waa a proud young mother. Her husband’s means were limited, but they must wear the finest embroideries, and by denying herself every luxury and many comforts ane could keep them clothed as 'alio wished. They were early given the nicest tid-bitaatthe table, and what wonder if they soon looked upon mother’s share of good things as their own? They ware pretty children, and M they grew older she prided herself upon keeping them daintily dressed. To be sure, this involved sacrifice on her part. Bhe had loved book*, but It took so much time to read these must bt given up “for the children’* She must sit up late nights to sew; she must wear her cloak the third wintei and have her best dress made over orce more, in order that Izzie might hav« that charming hat with plumes or Reb« the bead trimming she so much desired, Did they help about the work ? Oh ! no. At first she could not bear to have them soiling their clothes in the kitohen, besides hindering her. Later, they were too busy with studies or practice or some fx 1 By the time they reached young girl¬ hood, her husband’s income warranted the best teachers, and they, being quick and bright, did credit to their instruc¬ tors. His income also warranted her many hour? of leisure; but alas 1 so long had she lived “for the children” that it seemed impossible to make any change. Nobody could do up the muslins or pre¬ pare food like mother. Her husband had long since ceased to look to her for intellectual companion¬ ship. It was the girls, with whom he talked science and politics. When he wanted music they played and sang. If ho went to a lecture or a concert they accompanied him. Her own mission seemed fulfilled in a well-cooked meal or nicely ironed shirt. What a mistake she had made 1 It rushed upon her now, as she sank back into the easy-chair with those words ringing all sorts of changes over and over in her ears: “The woman who works for us! the woman who works for us 1“ But the callers must have gone. The outer door has opened and shut, and hark 1 ihe girls are talking again. It is Reba’s voice: “Oh, Izzie ! how could you ?” “I know it was perfectly awful, but what could I do ? If mother would only dress decently and get used to society, we should not have to be ashamed of her when any one eoiies. It’s all her own fault.” j Ashamed of heir J The children who had cost her so many wakeful nights*^ many anxious Clifford thongiyts, api-i mechanically ashamed of lies! Mrs. and went to her room/ There she did some¬ thing very unusual for her. She spent at least five minutes gazing at her own reflection in the glass. Not a prepossess¬ ing figure, certainly. Her dress, a plain calico, guiltless of even a collar; her hair combed straight back, twisted, in the smallest possible knot at the back of her head, and the face—could that be the face that had once been called beau¬ tiful ? No wonder the woman heaved a sigh, as she saw how faded and wrinkled it had become. % As she gazed a resolute look came into tlie-graj “Ashamed eyes. qI and fault me, my ctwn 1 They shall"hever have occasion to say that again.” A quick knock sounded at her door. “Oh, mother 1 Miss Tebbits has sent home my polonaise, and the trimming is all wrong. Won’t you change it to night ? I must have it tb wear to Mattie Dyer’s to morrow, you know,” Mrs. Clifford dared not trust herself to face the girl. “You will have time to change it your self, Reba. I am going to the lecture, and some one must remain at home. ” There was a moment of amazed silenoe, then retreating footsteps. After ward she heard Reba’s surprised, “What do you think will happen next? Mother’s going to the lecture !” ^ . Clifford, , when he came home, . was uo ' ess surprised than his daughters bad been, but there was a pleased look on hiB face it did her good to see. Still, her heart almost failed her when »be came *o review her scanty wardrobe. The blaok silk was still good, tliongh a little oW-fashioued. But her bonnet ftU<i gl° ye * oloak ! No, *h€ could not mortify her husband by wear tog them. She must stay at home. A rustle outside of her door, a tap, and the two girls fluttered in. “Now, mother, we are just going k fix you ourselves. Hit right down and let me arrange your hair while Issii that dark plnme on her bonnet in place of the bright one. My .cashmere shawl is exactly what you want, and her gloves will tit you to a T. How the girls will open their eyes when they see what a handsome mother we’ve got And Mrs. Clifford could scarcely keep ** r“l r Z' f l7 Thev C h“n nn" 1 sxzf - s ■•Ton look just as yon did twenty years ago, /rib Mary. I’m so glad to have my little back again.” I need not add that the evening was a thoroughly enjoyable one. Next morning there was a' council oi three in the back parior. Mrs. Clifford stated that she must have more time for and mental improvement. She could hire help, but it would be better for all concerned for Izzie and Beta to learn something of housekeeping. Izzie held up her fair white hands and asked how they would look playing the piano, covered with scars and potato stains. Beba didn’t see how they could possibly find time, they had so much to do °Mrs. already. Clifford stood firm, and the conn cil ended in the kitchen with the two girls washing the breakfast dishes. During the next few weeks there were some merry times in that kitchen, but more trying ones. Beba would be elated beyond measure over a well browned loaf of bread, while Izzie was in despair over a well-browned shirt bosom. Izzie displayed with pride the shining silver her hands had polished, while Reba hid the shin¬ ing napkins o^r which she had upset the gravy boat. Such is the inconsis¬ tency of kitchen perfection. fdlfc^g V\. More than ouefe the mother abandoning her plans. It would be so much easier to do it all herself. Rut she 3 possessed the gift of perseveran„ 9, and after awhile the household machin¬ ery moved on as smoothly as ever, and much more easily now that there were six hands instead of two to turn the wheels. Parlor company no longer wondered where the mother was, and the daughters grew more delighted every day with her whose acquaintance they were just forming. One day Mrs. Clifford had a sick headache. Three months before she could not have afforded the luxury of a sick day. Now she could dismiss all care—for a season at/Least. I will not say she did not feel some anxiety when she learned at nocn that her husband had brought a “business friend from the West” home to dinner. But everything went on as well as if she had presided. The girls had been as apt pupils in the kitchen as at the school. Mr. Taft, the business friend, was a vonng man. He was cultured and wealthy, but he had some very old f !(S hioned notions about young women homg uulit to preside over homes of their own before learning something of housework. He enjoyed Izzie’s sing in g and prkised her painting, but he afterward declared it was her cookinR that first attracted him. At any rate, business obliged him to visit Carlisle very frequently after that, and at last Iz2ie b „ ck l0 be u, e qnee n Western home Reba Btm Utcs witb het p9r ents. She > n0 one oan persuade her to leave e ar father and mother. Eumor "P u paraonnge wllI 'rejoices However that may ^Irs. (Jtiflord that she dis ’ rectify it ‘ 1 , her mistake in time to 7 homu , tg lU 1 c * JuLIA A Tibrell. £iU™ ------. "SlueoTN. . T..«: ■ Gently, „ 01f) f t H an( | f oun( j ou iy 29 C29 with copies of the Bible. Ho sold copies aud give sway 107. Disadvantage cf Being: a Titan, ^ • g p ^ g^iHftber (“Mrs. Parting relate the following in one of his lettera to the Hartford Post: <<Am ^ masg of commodities cut meefc ]ar necessity I saw it thftt & weJ1 . known tailor was pre . to make a like saerifico with re £ ssJsrsK » % srvisss r, ited means who needed some good clothes, and I followed the advertise meat, in the capacity of patron to very eened by the gentlemanly * w “ 00 f Buckram, a! ’- T re * 6how!1 measured «f and be f booked If** “ for u “ the store suit ’. by the next Saturday Upon going to re¬ «"• my hnery I was tola runt the maker had disappointed them and asked delay Ml the following Saturday which t B™nted. The next Saturday I deemed b <*« b « “>"“■ au “ '“‘“tly * my clothes. Buckram ™ con used bn told me a story ot now faculties he hadI been called to enconter, “d again begge my m 11 gene.-. - g lively patted him on the back with a -othing intimation that he needn't cry bout it, and let it go for another week, Phis time I called and was simply told they were think not they done. ever ‘Well, will be? said, I, He 3 do you ‘Do in frankly told me‘No.’ you not tend to do as you advertise, and make a suit for $28?’ ‘Not fora mastodon, was his lofty reply, and I turned away sorrowing, for I weighed 185. And he is to-day suiting the times.” Floating Homes. “As we approach Canton,” writes a Chinese correspondent of the Home Journal, “one of the strangest sights ol this strange land is the vas^ wilderness of boats which serve as the only homes of a floating population of more than one hundred thousand human beings. As our steamer made its way slowly through, the city of boats to her wharf, it seemed as if half of Canton was afloat on the water. All around us were acres on acres —yes, square miles—of junks, moored in blocks and squares, with long streets or canals between them; while darting hither and thither were hundreds on hundreds of others carrying passengers or freight. These boats are of various sizes and shapes, and are partly covered with bamboo matting, the one or two apartments furnishing space for parlor, kitchen, dining-room, bedroom, wood¬ shed, barn, and idol-shrine. There mul¬ titudes of men and women, parents and children, grandparents and babies, find a home, each boat often sheltering more souls than Noah had in his ark. There thousands are born, grow up, grow old * and die, seldom being on land until car¬ ried there for burial. Many of these, boats are manned by women and girls, whose large, unbound feet prove that they are not ‘Chinese ladies;’ and yet ^ e y have learned to ‘paddle their own canoe.’ Babies are fastened to the deck, by strings; and other children wear life preservers of gourds or bamboo to keep them from sinking, if they fall over¬ board, though the parents don’t seem to grieve much if one does get drowned. There are larger and more gayly decor¬ ated junks called ‘flower-boats,’ used as floating pleasure-houses of no good rep¬ utation. A few years ago a typhoon swamped thousands of these small craft,, and hundreds of the inmates were drowned.” A gentleman who visited a rober skating rink and attempted to partici* * >ate iu the P leiwm res, says the idea of fastening a pair of skates on the feet is tho ( l neere8t Dotion ia th * worI<1 » be " cause the feet were the only portidu ol his anatomy that didn t touch the tlooi oftener than one Inning iu teu.