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THE THREE FISHERS.
Three Ssherfi went ?a ling ont into the west,
Oat into the west as the sun went down ;
Each thought on the woman who loved him best,
And the children stood watching them out of the
town;
For men must work and women must weep.
And therv’e little to earn, and many to keep,
Though the harbor bar be moaning.
Three wives sat up in the light-house tower,
And they trimmed the lamps as tne sun want
down;
They looked at the squall, and they looked at the
shower,
igbt-rack came rolling up ragged and
brown 1
But men must work and women must weep,
Though storms be sudden and waters deep,
And the harbor bar be moaning.
Three corpse lay out on the shining sands,
In the morning gleam as the sun went down,
And the women are weeping and wringing their
hands
For those who will never come back to the town ;
For men must work and women must weep.
And the sooner it’s over the sooner we sleep—
And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.
A LiNl) Or SNOW.
A party of gentlemen lounging over
tlieir wine at Delmonico’s and ponder
ing hew they should kill the interven
ing hours between dinner and the late
■or early period assigned ior sleep,
found sleighing indispensable— a pre
cious becauee^xtrem e 1 v rare sprinkling
of snow upon the avenue must be en
joyed. The only question was how best
to enjoy it.
“How would it do,” said young
Browne, “ to go for the country mate
rial—three feet of the solid, you know,
no grinding over dirt and stones, or
slushing through mud and mire—jnst a
regular old-fashioned sweep through
a cloudy landscape, the trees and tops
of hedges dressed all in white for ns,
and a nice little glint of rose-color in
the evening sky ? Eh? how about that,
boys ?”
“And stop at a comfortable inn,”
said Smythe, “ with gables and sloping
roof, the out houses painted a glowing
red, wherein our panting steeds could
rest and partake of home-raised oats,
while we, perchance, within the hospit
able portal, might ‘ trip the light fan
tastic ’ with some beautiful child of
nature, innocent of rouge or pearl pow
der, where a felicitous sentence might
bring forth the rara avi/i of a veritable
blush? Eh ? what do you say to that?”
But Robinson dallied with his glass,
now held it to the light, then put it
down untasted, or sipped a little from
its brim.
“ Not any for me,” he said at last.
“ I’ve been through all that, and ex
hausted it.”
Browne and Smythe looked at each
other significantly.
“ Would it be indiscreet to ask when
and where ?”
“I will tell 50U the story, gentle
men,” said Eobinson, “because it has
a moral.”
“Hear ! hear ! they cried, and tapped
pon the table with gentle irony.
“ It was a land of snow,” began Eob
inson, “ where the houses were scat
tered far and wide, and many an acre
loomed between, with scarcely a land
mark to guide the weary pilgrim on his
way. The trees mostly of pine and
fir, their scraggy branches half hidden
in avalanches of snow. The whole
landscape was waste and sterile, and
unutterably sad. How and when and
where I found myself on that wild
night, wrapped in robes of fur and
buffalo skins, a pair of noble grays
bearing me over this artificial surface
of the earraf, it matters not, nor has
aught to do with my story.
“ At last I reached this veritable inn
of which you spoke, with gables and
peaks, dormer-windows and quaint tur
rets, and wide oaken doors through
which I passed with greatfulness, and a
sense of infinite rest and ease.
“ After a substantial supper I went
out to the stables to see how my travel
spent beasts were faring, and found
that there had been some fresh arrivals.
A rude and almost gigantic sled upon
heavy oaken runners barred my passage,
and on all sides I found a variety of
home-made vehicles, of all sizes and
shapes, filled with blankets of white
and scarlet wool, home-spun coverlets,
and sheep-skins.
“ An old French hostler busied him
self in dexterously untying the leather
thongs that constituted most of the
harness.
“ There fell upon my ear a faint
twanging in the distance, snggestive of
a stringed instrument.
“‘Dancing?’ I exclaimed to the
hostler.
“ ‘ But yes,’ he replied ; ‘in truth, it
is the dance.’
“ ‘ Within there ? ’ I pursued, point
ing to the house.
“ ‘ Without doubt,’ he answered, and
I hastened in the direction of this phan
tom music. Making my way through a
dimly lighted corridor, with many a
subtie turn and tortuous declivity and
height, guided alone by thenow distinct
scraping of a violin, I at length found
myself in a spacious, low-ceiled apart
ment immediately under the peaked
roof, of the whole breadth of the hos
telry. A quantity of candles in tin
sconces cast a flickering light upon the
scene, and moving hither and thither
in the mazes of a singular country a- _ice
were about a score of rustics, of a class
of humanity altogether strange and new
to me—a race of Titans, strong of limb,
with muscles of iron and sinews of steel,
a bovine cast of feature, mild and rn
minating, with eyes wide apart, straight
, noses, expanded nostrils, and lips cuived
like those of a Grecian statue.
“I watched them for a time move
slowly and with a rude dignity through
an intricate dance, which left one couple
almost hidden in the darkness of a far
corner. Suddenly this couple came
swiftly down to the centre of the group,
and stood almost directly before me.
“ It is with these we have to do, gen
tlemen One of them—the lady, if I
may call her thus—was the most beau
tiful creature I ever saw. So young sbe
seemed to me, I involuntarily smiled
upon a child. She wore a simple bodice
over a blue petticoat. Her arms and
neck were covered by a chemise puffed
and starched, and white as the snow it
was bleached upon. Her hair, only
bound bv a chain and silver arrow, fell
far below her waist. Its color was hard
to define, but seemed, in the smoky
glare of the candies, a yellowish, creamy
white.
■ Her feet, beneath her petticoat.
Like little mice, stole in and out,
m * * ★ *
And oh. sbe danced it such a way,
So “tin upon an Ka-ter day.
Was ba!f so fine a eight.’
“ Yes, gentlemen, she was a theme
for poesy. I watched her with mats
bat expressive admiration, so that when
her eyes met mine I fancied there grew
a gentle recognition in them. She
looked up to her Titanic partner and
smilingly drew his attention to me. I
can net describe the benevolent patron
-1 age of his manner when, as if taking
pity upon my loneliness, and apparently
pleased with my evident appreciation
of the lovely being that seemed in
some way to belong to him, he brought
her to my side, and with noble hospi
tality left her, as he said, to beguile the
time of the stranger. Good fellow that
he was, I hope this kindly trust be
trayed did not impair his simple faith
in humanity.
“‘Her name is Lulu,’he said, ‘and
mine Jean.’
“ And while I cast about for some
thing to say to this little maiden in the
! patois of her country, she began her
self, in a voice sweet, low, and sonor
ous :
“ It is, then, your sleigh in the stable
below? How beautiful it is! It is
shaped like a wild goose, and so light I
j can lift it, even I! And the skins they
■ frightened me, they were so like pretty,
crouching animals; one of them had
eyes, in truth, and mocked me as I
peeped into the sleigh. And the horses,
they are like deer, so small are their
! heals, and so slim their legs. Jean
laughed at them. He said they were
good for naught but to take in one’s
| arms and pat like a kitten.’
; “ ‘ There your Jean is wrong,’ I said,
quickly, not overpleased at this simple
irony. ‘They are good to get, over these
dreary wastes of yours, and I wish you
could just once enjoy a ride behind
them, and know what swiftness means.’
“‘ I wish I could,’ she said, ‘under
the pretty skins, and all the lovely sil
ver bells jingling.”
“ ‘ Why can’t we?’ I pleaded, coax
ingly pressing the little ungloved fin
gers in my own. ‘We could get back
again before our friends would find out
we were gone, and then you could tell
Jean how wrong he was.’
“An arch smile moved her beautiful
lips and brightened the depths of her
solft black eyes ; her foot tapped upoD
the sanded floor, and her white hand
fluttered in mine. It was the sweetest
moment of uncertainly with which I had
ever aught to do.
“ ‘Come, Lulu,’ I whispered. ‘You
don’t know how happy it would make
me.’
“ ‘And I, too,’ she said, looking up
in my face with innocent candor. ‘ I
also would be happy.’
“It was probably the first temptation
offered to this child of nature. She
yielded to it with guileless enthusiasm.
“Shortly after we were bounding
over the snow with the speed of the
wind. My gallant grays, rested and re
freshed, and seemingly conscious of the
lovely burden they bore, so swiftly
flew along that at times we ware lifted
from the surface of the earth and drawn
in mid-air, while I tugged at the reins
and endeavored to restrain their ardor.
“Lulu’s eyes shone like lambent
stars ; her hair floated out on the night
wind.
“Are you happy, Lulu ?” I said.
“‘But yes,’ sue replied, quickly.
‘ And you ?’
“ ‘All, Lulu,’ I began, a hundred de
lights pleading ior utterance; but in
that supreme moment of ffoy I wfis
checked by a group of fir'trees tliat
rose before me, immediately barring
our further progress. They were
strangely unfamiliar. Afar in the dis
tance I saw, the shadowy outline of a
forest. I reined in the panting animals.
My heart grew cold within me. An icy
dread paralyzed for a moment even
thought and feeling I had mistaken
the way. We were lost! And to be
lost in this Canadian waste was simply
death in a slow, torturing, terrible
form.
“To turn back and traverse the way
that it seemed we had come was my
first effort.
“‘Yes, we will return,’ said Lulu,
beginning already to tremble with a
vague fear. ‘Jean will become anx
ious.’
“Alas for poor Jean ! he was at that
moment scouring the white desert in
search of ns, the prey of a bitter fear.
“ I watched every object that lifted
itself above the surface of the snow, but
could recognize none, and became pain
fully aware that perhaj s every stride of
the horse took us further from the hos
telry.
“To add to my terror, the vapor in
the atmosphere melted into snow, and
soon we were blinded by drifts that
blew across our patli and drove the
now wearied horses back upon their
haunches.
“Lulu had long ago divined the sit
uation, and said no word of reproach,
sorrow or fright, but sat, dear child,
quite still, while the white torrent fell
upon her beautiful hair and stiffened
the border of her hood. So white and
rigid she looked, she might have been
carved from the snow about us.
“The only work that fell from her
sweet lips was the one that also tugged
at my heart, filling it with the bitter
ness of a vain remorse ‘Jean!’ mur
mured the poor child; and two big
tears fell from her eyes and froze upon
the hard, stiff hairs of the buffalo skin.
“I do not know what mad words of
regret and sorrow I poured out at her
feet, but I remember still the womanly
eagerness with which she took all blame
upon herself, and strove to infuse hope
into my fainting heart.
“ The air grew sharp and chill; the
light of the moon was dimmed by the
storm ; and the wind, gathering fierce
ness and strength, beat louder and
louder in the fir trees, aDd writhed and
shrieked in their skeleton branches.
The snow came down as I never saw it
come down before ; and there in the
drilts and the freezing air, alone and
lost, were Lulu and I and my splendid
grays.
“ The winds grew stronger, the drifts
grew deeper, and at last floundered
down the poor horses ; and while I
urged with panting breath and gentle
cut of the whip, everything was growing
dim about me ; my hands were numb ;
a sharp bond cut into my very brain.
I heaid, as in a dream, the voice of
Lulu, who, delicate Bnd beautiful as
she was, could stand this torture better
than I, for she was bom and reared in
this wide snow desert.
“ The last thing I remember was
drawing oat my pistol, and, like one
crazed with a last hope, firing it into
the air.
“ Then, losing all power of will, I
sank back into the sleigh, now filled
with snow, and heard, fainter and
fainter, the gentle voice of Lulu—felt
like an enraptured ghost, the soft caress
of her bauds, and her breath 011 my
frozen cheek.
“It would have been then a merciful
death to die, could I have known that
Lulu would have at least been safe 011
the good heart of Jean ; but my last
sweet dream of consciousness was poi
soned by the thought of the bitter and
lonely death I had brought to this poor
child.
“Of course, gentlemen, I did not die,
or I should not have been here to tell
you this tale with a moral. When I
awoke to consciousness I found myself
in a huge bed, almost smothered in
coverlets of elder-down, and a faint
idea that I was being manipulated into
some plastic material by an iron hand,
led me to open my eyes and find bend
ing over me the noble face of Jean.
‘Calm thyself, friend,’ in answer to
my broken entreaties ; ‘ Lulu is strong
and well, and brewing for thee some
soup to put strength into thy poor
body. When, thanks to the great God,
we beard thy firing, and at last found
you, Lulu was able to speak and move,
but thou wert as oue frozen. And one
of thy grays is dead in the stable yon
der ; the other I fear me will not see
the dawn of day. Thou sliouldst not
have ventured thus with those puny
steeds—it was unwise!’ That was all
of reproaches I received from this noble
gentleman. I leave you to imagine my
remorse, gratitude, and the subsequent
vows I made when, through the kind
ness of Jean, I was restored to civiliza
tion.”
“But,” said Browne, “we needn’t
go to the wilds of Canada to find three
feet of snow!”
“I thought yon spoke of a child of
nature ?” said Eobinson.
“ Well ?” interrogated Smythe.
“ There is not the article you de
scribed within the limit of the United
States.”
An Important Treaty Ratified.
In accordance with a joint resolution
of congress, approved June 17, 1874,
and due notice given to the government
of Belgium, through the United States
minister at Brussels, on the Ist of July,
1874, the treaty of commerce and nav
igation which was concluded between
the United States and the king of the
Belgians in 1858 will terminate on the
first of July next. In the place of it
the president sent to the senate yester
day, and that body ratified to-day, a
new treaty, signed at Washington on
the Bth inst., by Secretary Fish and the
Belgian Minister, M. Delfasse. A ma
jority of the articles of the treaty relat
ing to commerce are copied verbatim
from the treaty of 1858. Article four
of the old treaty, exempting steam ves
sels of both countries from tonnage,
anchorage, buoys and light-house du
ties, is omitted from the now.
A provision has been added to the
most favored nation article, giving
either of the high constructing parties
the right to terminate the article and
obligation at any time by giving ono
year’s notice. The tallowing new arti
cle, m regard t<4 trade marks, has also
been added, and is of especial interest
to American merchants and manufac
turers :
Article 15. The high contracting par
ties, desiring to secure complete and
efficient protection to the manufactur
iug industry of the respective citizens,
agree that any counterfeiting in one of
the two countlies of the trade marks
affiixed in the other on merchandise to
show its origin and quality shall be
strictly prohibited, and shall give
ground ior an action of damages in
favor of the injured party, to be pros
ecuted ill the courts of the country in
which theconnterfeiting shall beproved.
The trade marks in which cit.zens of
one of the two countries may wish to
secure the right of property in the
other must be lodged, to wit: The
marks of citizens of the United States
at Brussels, in the office of the clerk
of the tribunal of commerce, and the
marks of Belgian citizens, at the patent
office at Washington. It is understosd
that if a trade mark has become public
property in the country of its origin, it
shall be equally free to all in the other
country.
The most favored article of the treaty
called forth a little discussion, but the
treaty was ratified without any real op
position.
New Treatment of Cancer.
Anew and wonderful application ol
alcohol has recently been made in the
treatment of tumors and cancer. 1
Schwalbe, of Weiuheim, has reported
100 cases of various forms of indolent j
glandular swellings treated successfully
by the subcutaneous injection of the
tincture of iodine. Latterly he has
used injections of simple alcohol in
fifty similar cases, and lias found the
results equally favorable and the time
required for a cure no greater, and he
therefore concludes that the alcohol is
the essential remedial agent. He ex
plains its curative action as follows :
It establishes a state of chronic inflam- i
mation in the connective tissue, caus- ;
ing it to contract by degrees, and thus
pressure is brought upon the vessels
a> and the lympibaties are obliterated. |
These effects, and the consequent hard- !
ening of the connective tissue, he pro
proposes to utilize in the treatment o
other tumors, and reports the cure of j
fatty tumors by the use of such injec '
tions, to which some ether was added j
in order to dissolve the fat. He finds, i
however, the most importdnt applies- i
tion of iiis plan in the treatment of
cancer by preventing its extension to
the neighboring tissues and lymphatic
glands. The turner is first to be iso
lated, as it were, by causing the con- j
nective tissue on all sides of it to be- .
come shriveled Then the contractive >
connective tissue, approaching the
growth itself, presses upon it, cuts off
its blood supply, and so causes it to j
disappear by atrophy. Lymphatic i
glands which are already affected are to ;
be similarly treated. Schwalbe, with ;
Dr. Hasse, claims to have cured three
cases of cancer of the breast in this j
way. j
FACTS FKOM ALL SOURCES.
According to the agricultural re
turns of 1874, there has been an increase
instead of decrease in the stock of
horses in Great Britain. The total
number of horses is 367,000. The in
crease during the past five years is 66,-
000. The excess in 1874 over the num
ber returned for 1873 is 35,000. These
figures plainly demonstrate that the
scarcity pi equine stock so loudly com
plained of is mainly owing to the greater
demand*
Thu Ifultz wheat grown the past sea
son upon ihe experimental farm of the
Pennsylvania agricultural college, at
West Grove, Chester county, Pa., has
yielded at the rate of forty-two bushels
to the acre. The next highest products
were the Brittpuy and red wheat, 37 44-
60 bushels ; Bough and Ready, 34 52-
(50, and Wiiite Chaff Mediterranean, 34
40 60 bushels.
The Alabama agricultural college and
a committee of cotton planters have
established an experimental station,
near Wheeler’s station, in the northern
part of the state. Eleven acres are to
be divided into plats of one-eighth of
an acre each, on which experiments are
! to be tried with thirty different kinds or
qualities of manure, and then repeated
on subsoiled land.
A Michigan man has raised five lem
ons on a tree which he keeps in a hot
house. It took four tons of coal, and
he sold the lemons for twenty cents.
He js going to enlarge his building so
as hi A 'so oranges and bananas.
South America is the paradise of
thistkjs. They are large enough to af
ford shade for cattle, and are sufficient
ly tall to afford protection to highway-
with their horses hide behind
then.
Empty oyster and fruit cans are not
of much value, but if the cap to them
bo melted off, and tha cans otherwise
uninjured they may be put to use. It
is a good plan to fill them with lard for
summer use.
The Kansas City Price Current al
ready has information that 69,500 head
of Tt xas cattle are to be driven to that
place this season, and thinks the total
drive will equal that of 1874.
The Wisconsin granges already have
established 41 co-operative associations
for selling goods, and mnnufactnrilng,
and 29 insurance companies ; all flour
ishing, and representing capital to the
amount of $4,000,000.
In England the small farmars are
forming clubs for the purchase of short
horned bulls to improve tlieir stuck.
Their example might profitably be fob
■ lowdd in this country.
MOISTURE AT WILL.
M. Parar is said to be tiie discoverer
of a way of doing without rain, if neces
sary. He knew that the air is full of
moisture, and he knew that chloride of
calcium would attract aad coudonse it
forcaltnring purposes. He lias applied
this chloride on sand lulls and road
bods, on grass, on all sorts of soils, suc
cessfully, and he lias ascertained that
it may be applied in such proportions
as will produce the irrigation of laud
more cheaply and efficiently than by
means of canals or other methods of
securing artificial irrigation. One of
Mr, Parar’s applications will produce
and retain abundant moisture for three
days, when the same amount ol water
introduced by the present method will
iu an hour. He believes that,
preparation will net only produce
two blades of grass to grow where but
one now grows, but that it will render
possible fields, meadows, aud prosperi
ty, where now there is nothing but sand
and desert waste.
" CHARCOAL KILN.
To a correspondent who asked for in
formation about building a kiln for
charcoal-burning, The New York Times
replies : Pale or soft brick will not
answer for ebarcoal kiln. Only well
burned hard brick can be used, as the
wear and tear is considerable. The
common shape of those kilns is conical,
or that of an old-fashioned bee-hive, or
as nearly as possible the shape of an
o-dinary “charcoal-pit.” It is most
economical to make them of large size,
abo it.twenty-four feet in diameter and
the flame in height. The walls are a
brick and a half thick for ten feet up,
and |i brick thick for the remainder.
Such' a kiln will cost SI,OOO, with the
iron doors and bauds to strengthen it,
andywill hold forty cords of wood,
yielding about 1,600 bushels of coal at
each burning. Charcoal is worth twen
ty-five cents a bushel in New York.
SUGAR REETH.
Acorrespondentof The Indiana Farm
er writes: “I have raised sugar beets
on a small scale for several years, witli
very satisfactory results, as they are
eaten in the winter by almost all kinds
of stock with great avidity, and are an
exc-llent substitute for crass, prevent
ing costiveness, and keeping uj a good
appetite. They are rich in saccharine
matter, and economical food, as they
produce enormous crops on suitable
land, when well cultivated. The most
suitable land for them is a rich, loamy
soil, somewhat clayey, either naturally
dry or well-drained. They should he
drilled in rows, three feet apart, in soil
fine!i* pulverized. They should be
drilled jEkir or five inches apart in the
rovfs, irfl when well started, thinned
out to fen inches apart, 0 lltivate thor
oughly three or four times with a one
horsi- cultivator, after which, pull out
by hat and any weeds that may remain or
that may start after the cultivation is
done. If the season is favoiable you
will get from 600 to 800 bushels per
acre.
CONCERNING CROCKERY.
When buying crockery, it is poor
economy to buy an inferior article be
cause it-can be purchased at one third
less price. A first-class article of porce
lain will out-wear many inferior piece",
and stiff preserve its freshness. It
never absorbs stale odors, no matter
how many times heated. It does not
crackle bv usage, thus marring its
beauty. Neither is it as liable to break :
when 4;sed harshly. Too hot water
poured over dishes, when cleaning i
them, is a very injurious practice. ;
Dishes should be washed in suds, and
if the rinsing should never be |
too hot. to hear the band. Hard-boil
ing wat r poured from the tea kettle
over dirty dishe, is a slovenly practice,
which will soon tell its taie m cabalistic ,
characters all over the face of the '
crockery.
PATCHING BOYS* CLOTHES.
A motherly woman writing in the 1
Christian Monitor, declares that she
fully agrees with any thoughtful woman
who spares her boys the humiliation of
wearing great round or triangular
patches, when her own skill and a gen
j erons supply of pieces mako the re
j seated pants look almost as well as new
J ones. May they hold her iu grateful
rememberanee, long after they shall
I have outlived the era of torn trousers.
| She suggests that when pants need re-
I pairing over the knee, it is a good way
: to rip the seems each side of the worn
part, cut it out and insert anew piece,
pressing it nicely before closing the
side seam again. Neither boy nor man
need be ashamed to wear garments
neatly patched if it be necessary, and
every girl should be taught that mend
ing well is an essential part of domes
tic economy.
WASHING HOUSE THANTS.
The following is from that excellent
English journal, Land and Water :
Have a large pail or tub filled with
warm soap-suds; then spreading the
finger and the palm of the left hand
over the soil in the pot, turn the
branches topsy-turvy into the warm
soap-suds, swing the plant briskly in
the water till every leaf has become
completely saturated, then put it
through a pail of clean water and rub
each leaf with the thumb and finger ;
give it a good shake aud when dry re
turn it to its place in the'window. The
leaves of a plant are its lungs, each
leaf being furnished with hundreds of
minute pores, whence the plants breathe
in carbon aud exhalo oxygen. The
perspiration of plants is said to be
seventeen times that of the human
body. Many plants never bloom on
account of tlie accumulation of dust
upon their leaves. A plant too large to
be laid down in a tub as above de
scribed may be syringed, and each leaf
rubbed clean with the finger and thumb,
which are better for this purpose than
a brush or cloth.
eulogy ®p the toad.
The editor of The American London
writes thus of a creature not famed
for its beauty : The toad—although
universally despised and upbraided for
his ugliness—is yet a useful, good
natured, quiet fellow, who recognizes
his friends and those who aie kind to
him. We have some half dozen of
them in our small garden, and among
them ono old patriarch who, when we
are digging or hoeing, will sit winking
and blinking at us with his pretty eyes,
and often compel us to lift or drive liim
aide to get him out of harm’s way.
He will Htay by us for hours, evidently
feeling that he need fear no hurt. Like
the sparrow, the toad has been consid
ered a nuisance, and in somo sections
exterminated ; but the exterminators
have been only too glad, afterward, to
get him back by the expenditure of
large sums of money. So useful are
toads in gardens that they are sold in
France by the dozen, for the purpose
of stocking gardens to free them from
many injurious insects. The toad lives
almost entirely on winged insects, and
never does harm to the plant,
ULOTUHEITE.
Tlie 1.1 1 lc Story of o l.ilflo Song.
“ Kpiuning was young Oloehotte,
Oamo fond youth to woo;
HI 10 was a sad ooquetto,
Long golden lashes fringe a ptffr of
woft blno eyas: and on tho brouth of tho
summer night is borne, in a froHh, ten
der young voice, tho words of the little
song.
Tho girl eyes know very well that a
pair of dark masculine orbs are shining
directly down upon them, striving to
discover by flutter of lash or tremor of
lid, some answer to the question those
same brown eyes have asked over and
over, iu their dumb, mute language.
But the white lids are quite unmoved,
and the song goes on iu the sweet, pure
voice:
“ ‘Clocbotto, Clochfitto,
You drive me far from you.
Clochotto, Clochette,
I come to way adieu!”
“Well chosen, Mils Nelly, inter
rupts tile owner of the dark brown eyes,
bending lower as he adds : “ You have
selected a most appropriate song for
my last evening at Cedar Croft.’
“You like it, then?” answers Nelly
Allen, playing the accompaniment solt
ly, and continuing in a mocking voice,
“ I thought it apropoH ; one who bears
the title of ‘flirt,’ can, I suppose, read
ily understand the feelings of a * co
quette’ as well 1”
“ Yon confound or transpose the po
sitions, Miss Nelly," returnd Harry
Rand, warmly. “ I assure you, it is
with tiie deepest emotion of the ‘ fond
youth ’ that I most sympathize, for I,
too, come to say adieu 1 ”
“Adieu!”—and there is apathetic
tone in her echo of the sad worth
Then, with a quick toss of the golden
head, and a beaming smile, Nelly Allen
changes the tone instantly and answers
witfi a laugh:
“ And you think I really believe you
are going away—you, who have cried
‘ wolf ’ so often that no one heeds any
more ? I regret that I can show no ap
propriate grief at the announcement,
but indeed I cannot get out a tear. I
am not a bit sorry, for—yon won’t go!”
Aral with a dash the little wfiite hands
fly over the keys in a wild waltz.
A cloud gathers over the dark eyes,
and the husky voice threatens a storm
as it whispers hoarsely : “ notJ[
care!—And is this all yon
mi". Veil;/ - Am to go
1 - I'l-, ."'i
sorry ,
1 • ■ "voy . and IIiShUH
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Mi
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to i.er-.elf. “D >es he
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will you marry me ?’ instead of looking
unutterable things out of his big, beau
tiful brown eyes, and saying nothing
when tho time arrives to part but
‘ adieu ?’ Oh, I hate him—there 1” And
a fresh burst of tears showers down on
the white keys.
Very cool and stately indeed Princa
Harry stalks off; but there is a smart
ing wound beneath his armor that stings
aud pains beyond relief.
“That I should fall in love with so
heartless a coquette 1” he mutters to
himself as he paces up aud d< wn tho
garden-walk. “ She cares 1.0
me than she does for tl e .f of tho
foolish moths that flit area: :he flan >
of her sweet smiles an< pretty ways.
Girls are cruel creature they plaa,
fast and loose with a man- heart,
cat trilling with a ui c. Yet, f
best that 1 should go tv.i.y
" in-re I- hall ncv. I'HB
her again.”
S'il't strain music fiotu's
the and
' M
! fll ' , , , [-S'y
11 1 mate.
" ini , and the wcHaBjSM
•• j.-.ii was yning Uloohette,
I ni'Vi'il in h.a heart. ’
in
"in
.'’l'viictto ('llU'liettl'.'
Sho only Haiti adieu !”
“Oil I—oh ! —oh I”—and sob after sob
follow tho last words, with the swoet
head again fallen low.
Swifter than arrow from huuter’s bow
there rushes through the darkness, into
the moonlighted room, a tall, dark
figure ; and kneeling beside tlio golden
fleece-hid, tear-stained face, a voica
whispors passionately:
“Will you forgive my hasty temper
and harsh words, Nellie darling ?—Aud
will you boliove mo when I say that I
love yon with all my heart, and ask you
to bo my wife? Let me kiss those tears
away 1 Look at me, darling, and
answer mo truly : You do care for me a
little, do yc-u not ?”
Tho tears are all wiped away—ono by
ono ; tho blue eyes are lifted up to meet
the brown ones; and Nelly answers
after a littlo while, sancy as ever :
“Now that you have asked the ques
tion, sir, I will answer, Yes. How
could I answer without being ques
tioned, pray? Girls must bo wooed to
be won ; we don’t like to do men’s work,
if we do prate about ‘rights.’ ”
“ But you acted so cold and careless
of my wooing. How could I speak
when yom only mocked me ?”
“That is our weapon of warfare—our
tongues, you know ' A lover must per
sist ; a girl is never so nearly won as
when she acts as I did. A lover must
be bold ; ‘Faint heart,’ you know, and
all that.”
“ Then tho Romans were model
lovers, when they carried off the Babble
women, I suppose,” laughs Harry.
“Certainly they were; and didn’t
they win model wives ? For who set
tled the difficulties between tlieso two
peoples but the wives ?—something tho
men had never accomplished, andniTer
would have done till doomsday.”
“ What a dear little Sabine you would
have boon, Nell,” says Harry—now, by
way of an attempt at playing Roman,
closely embracing his fiancee.
“And what a lazy Roman you would
have made I—stopping, no doubt, iu
the metee, to tell the young woman, be
fore you picked her up to carry her off,
that you really moant to go back to
Rome somo day, if she didn’t oomo
quietly, and then watching to see how
she would take it, and setting her down
if she objected.”
“ That will do, 1 think—let’s change
the subject, Nelly,” answers Harry.
“There!—l’ll let you go, if you will
sing mo the last verse of tho song I
interrupted.”
While the blue eyes look up, now,
into the brown ones, answering back all
the devotion they see there, tho sweet
young voice takes up the strum again
and sings :
“ ‘ Lot me,’ lie said, * Clocliette,
Tliis little lilussoin take.'
Wept then this Had ooa/uette
As though her heart would break.”
A “break” in the melody occurs here;
and the pause is filled 'bp by a sound,
written for no instrument ever cata
logued ; and then finish tho
little song together :
“‘Clochette, CloclrMK -
I know now, you ov ® mo true. 9
Clotchetto, Cloehet’
We’ll never oay ad 1 ® 11 ’
j— The A Idine. jM
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