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10 THE SOUTHERN WORLD, FEBRUARY 1, 1882. Conducted by Mrs. Fanny Farley. THREE SHADOn’K. I looked unit saw your eyes In the shadow of.your hair. As a traveler sees the stream In the shadow of the wood; And I said: "My faint heart sighs. Ah me! to linger there, To drink deep and to dream In that sweet solitude.” I looked and saw your heart In the shadow of your eyes. As a seeker sees the gold In the shadow of the stream: And I said; “Ah me! what art Should win the Immortal prise, Whose want must make life cold And heaven a hollow dream ?” I looked and saw your love In the shadow of your heart, As a diver sees the pearl In the shadow of the sea; And I murmured, not above My breath, IRt all apart— “Ah! you can love, true girl. And Ib your love for me? ” (I). O. Rossetti. A HUM AMD A NMH.E. isend the children to bed with a kiss and a smile— Hweet childhood will tarry at last but awhile— And soon they will pass from the portals of home, The wilderness ways of their life-work to roam. Yes, tack them In bed with a gentle "Good night!” The mantle of shadows Is veiling the light— And may be—Uwl knows—on this sweet little face May fall deeper shadows In life’s weary race. Yes, say It—"Ood bless my dear children, I pray!” It may be the last you will say It for aye! The night may be long ere you see them ugaln- And motherless children may call you tn vain. Drop sweet benedictions on their little heads And fold them In prayers as they nestle In bed; A guard of bright angels around them Invite— Their spirits may slip from the moorings to-night. THE DONATION 1*ARTY’ Jim and'I went to the donation, and of course took the whole families. We sept over two barrels of flour; Jim, for himself, sent a nice, big ham ; his wife bought a lot of stuff for children's dresses; Maria (that’s my wife) bought the parson's wife a black dress pattern, and wheedled me into giving our tailor an order to make the parson an overcoat. Before telling you about the donation party, I believe I must describe this parson artd his family, as they were the most singu lar people I ever met. For myself, I don't take very much interest in religiousmattcrs, but I do like to sec a man live up to his pro fessions. Well, this little preacher, for he was a very little man, was one of the most conscientious men I ever saw. His charge supplied him with a house to live in, asalary ■of four hundred dollars per annum, and one donation party. If heaven is so desirable a place to get to, those who are on the way ■evidently believe it necessary to economize In the cost of a guide. Well, this little preacher, while thoroughly devoted to the cause in which he was engaged, was also ex tremely attached to his family, and fairly idolized his wife. She was very illy fitted for a preacher’s wife, being originally very proud, and quite given to dress, and to now he deprived of the means to gratify her desires was very trying, and she had taken to quiet fits of repining and weeping, until her eyes and the tip of her nose had acquired a degree of redness not pleasant to look upon. Her husband used to say that she was a very pretty girl when he married her, and was con tinually upbraiding himself for having per suaded her to leave her pleasant home and cast her lot with his. A little occurrence that took place one day in my hearing will show his devotion to her. I had taken over to Cooperviilo a small load of flour, and driving by the preacher’s house lie came out and asked me to leave a burrel for him. So I took it into the house, and while waiting for him to find a hatchet with which to loosen the head, sat down in the kitchen by the tire. His wife he told me was not feeling well, and had laid down. Unable to And tiie hatchet, he went into her room to make inquiry os to its whereabouts, leaving the door slightly ajar, when I overheard the following con versation : “Oh, Qeorge, I feel so bad!’’ “Do you still suffer pain, dear?” “Oh, terrible pain!’’ “I think, my dear, if you would do as I suggested, you would soon be relieved of your pain.” “What, take castor oil, George." “Yes, Carrie, I feel quite sure it would very quickly relieve you, and I do wish you would try jt.” “But it's so nasty. 1 ’ “You'll only taste it a moment, dear." "But I can't take it, George* it's too natty.'* “Oh, yes you can, dear. Shall I pour you out a spoonful 7” “Will you take some if I do, George?" “What a question, dear. I have no need to take it, but I should do so at once if I were you." “That’s because you’re a man. A man can do anything." “Then you won’t take it, Carrie ?” “Not unless you will, too." “Well, then, although I can't understand why you want mo to take some, too, I’ll do so." “And first, George. You must take it first." “Anything to satisfy you, dear, and make you well again." A momentary silence, and then: “Now Carrie, it's your turn; are you ready?" “Did you take some, George ?” “Yes, dear; and now you must." “Did it taste bad, George?” “Well, it’s not very pleasant, but the taste don’t lost long. And new, dear, you take yours, for I must go and find the hatchet.” "Oh, George, I couldn’t take it at all; it’s too nasty. ” and she didn’t. I only mention this as showing the man’s devotion to his wife. Talk of braving death for a woman ; that’s easy compared to taking castor oil for her.. But I must get on to the donation party. We sent Gus on ahead with the stufT, and then we all got into Jim’s old carry-all, and about five o’clock started over. The roads were very rough, and we didn’t arrive at the parsonage until about eight o’clock, and after getting the flour and limit into the kitchen, the dress-stufls were taken in hand, passed from one to another of the women, commented upon, felt of, and cost speculated upon. Our wives (that is, Jim's and mine) after saying good evening all around, betook themselves to the kitchen to see what prei>- nmtions were making for supper, the young folks were shoved off up-stairs, and we old married folks occupied the parlorand sitting- • room. Old Cooper was there, and was appa rently well pleased with the tum-oul. He came at once up to us, and expressed himself as being glad that we came over. “A good gatherin’ to-night,” said he. "So I should judge,” Jim answered, “the preacher will make out very well, won't lie?” “Mostly potatoes, I’m afeard," old Cooper replied, “I can’t for the life of me see why everybody should fetch potatoes and pies. The pies is all right, for I kinder think they will be eat all up to-night, but I’ll miss my guess if there ain’t nigh on to twenty bushels of potatoes fetciied here.” “What are you getting for potatoes, now ?” I asked. “Well, their fctchin’ forty cents. Tain't enough, but that’s all ye can get.” “So the people have brought in possibly eight dollars wortli of potatoes. That's pretty generous, ain’t it,” said Jim. "It’s a good many potatoes,” said old Cooper, “and there’s a great deal of other stuff.” Leaving Jim and old Cooper together, I went over to the preacher, and getting him alone, gave him the order for the overcoat. “You and your partner,” he said, “have been very kind to me and mine, anil I don’t know how to thank you as I should. It is not pleasant for me to accept charity, for though a donation pnrty is ‘nominated in the bond,’ as it were, still it lias, and always will have, to me, a repugnant presence. I don’t suppose the feeling is right, but when the people leave to-night they will take with them nearly all they have brought, anil the knowledge of this fact' renders the donntion supportable. I do not say this with any reference to the gifts you and your partner have been so liberal with, anil do not wish you to so understand. These I accept in the spirit which lias prompted their bestowal, anil thank you anil him most cordially for them." “But," said I, “isn’t a donation looked on as one of your perquisites?" “Yes," lie replied, “but that makes it no more pleasant. I can speak a little more plainly to you than I could to one of the members, and you will, I believe, understand me as not complaining. We have here to- nightone hundred and twenty-three people. Now, how much do you suppose the total value of their donations will aggregate ?" "Well, I don't know as I would ever have thought of it in that way." “That’s just it,” he replied; "no one thinks of it in that way. One member brings say a bushel of potatoes; another perhaps a cake or two, a pie, a roll of nice butter, or perhaps a dozen nice fresh eggs. If each one here to-night had done that, I don’t know where I should have put all their gifts, but in most cases the gifts are far less than thlsi and for each gift, there are here to-night on an average five persons. I only tell you this to show you that when supper is over there will probably be no more in the house than before, yet my people will go home feeling that they have been very liberal with me.” “Well, this certainly is putting it in a way I should never have thought of. At the same time, I can very readily understand it to be as you say. As you know, I am not a church member, and sometimes 1 think I should be ashamed to be found in such com pany, and Jim thinks so too,” I replied. “There, sir, you do me, and my people, and our professions great injustice. It’s”— Just at that moment a crash overhead was heard, and somebody upstairs cried "fire!” Jim, and I, and the parson rushed up the stairs (some one of the brethren told me afterwards that old Cooper began a frantic search for hishat) and found the young folks had been playing a game of forfeits, and that 'Kiah Simpkins in a struggle to secure from ’Liza Putney a kiss, had caught one of his small feet on the leg of a little stand upon which, for convenience, the lamp had been placed, overturning it, breaking the lamp and spilling the oil, which, of course, ignited upon the floor. It took but a few moments to extinguish the flames, and then old Cooper suggested that “we all on our bended knees return thanks to the Almighty Father for his merciful kindness in savin’ us from the devourin' element." Jim intimated “it would be better for the young folks to chip in and buy the parson a new carpet.” Old Cooper’s suggestion was carried—Jim’s wasn't. Shortly after, supper was announced and the older folks were provided with scats at the tables in the kitchen and dining-room, while the young folks took theirs in the parlor, sandwiches, cake, tea, and coffee being passed around to them. I don’t know how much they ate in the parlor, but there was no injustice done the viands at the table where I sat. We had a very sociable time, and everybody seemed pleased with hisshure In the entertainment. Old Cooper was par ticularly witty. “I say. Bill,” lie asked, “is yer conscience a troublin’ of yer?” “Not at all,” I answered. "Why do you ask?” “Oh, I didn’t know but ye were tryin’ to git rid o’ some of yer ill-gotten wealth, yer so liberal like.” “I don’t understand what you mean ” “Well, ye see ye've been gougin’ us poor farmers in the mutter of toll for some time buck, and I didn’t know but yer conscience might hev smit ye at times about it, and that in a flt of remorse ye had made up yer mind to pay back by givin’ our dominie here a good send-off to-night. Kinder make up for what the rest on us hasn’t given, ye know," and with that the old fellow went off into a regular flt of horse laughter, in which wo all joined. An agonizing scream from the parlor caused a rush for thatlocallty, and we found the cause of the commotion, an attempt by young Mr. 'Kiah Simpkins to scare the life outof young Miss’Liza Putney, by dropping a cold currant, picked from his piece of cake, down her back. Miss Putney was favoring the company with a song, standing in front of the piano (a relic of past grandeur) and to be more at ease had placed her cup of coffee upon the edge thereof. She, feeling as she supposed, a nasty bug making its way down her back, gave one yell, and raised her arms convulsively to the back of her neck. In her efforts to capture the bug, she became oblivious of the cup of coffee standing before her, and as her hands went up they came in contact with it, overturning it and its con tents into the piano. It took some little time to restore quiet, (thedamage wasnppa- rently not thought of), but the harmony of the party was broken, and pretty soon indi cations of going home were visible. Old Cooper, noticing this, requested silence while he made a few remarks, something after this style: “Brethren and sisters, for I feel I may call ye so, although we don’t all on us belong to one fold (and some on us I fear don't belong to no fold at all), we hev met here to-night to testify in some slight measure, the feelin’s in which we ail hold our beloved pasture. Although we are none on us blessed with too much worldly goods, we have all on us given as our means would seem to justify, (I know I hev). We have all on usgiven freely and willin’ly as seemed to Us right (I know I hev) and although it may not place our beloved pasture beyond tiie necessity of future labor, he will, I am sure, accept It as showin’ that the seed he has dropped has not fallen by the wayside nor on stunny ground. I feel certain ye will ell bear me out when I say his labors among us has been appreciated at their true worth, and that, if at times, he becomes cast down, or weary in the heat of the day, he may know that while his reward here may seem small, we will all devoutly pray that we may meet him in that better land, where the wicked cease from troublin’ and the weary may find rest.” I don’t know whether old Cooperexpected a round of applause; if he did he was disap pointed. Something occurred, however, which was “not down in the bill,” and which created a greater sensation than the old man's address. Our man Gus had been a silent and seemingly satisfied spectator of the proceedings, but as old Cooper got through, he rose up and said: “My friends, I don’t go to no shurcli, und I don't know how it vould be if I dit, but I vas invited to come over to dis barty, und I haf imd a very goot time. It vas very goot fun to burn up do breacher’s garpet, und more fun to vlll up his biano up mit goffee. Somepoty says it was petter if you bay de fiddler don’t it, und, if you blese, every one here had petter bay me so much as feefty zents to make de breacher feel goot on our fun. Dot’s pisness.” “What does this mean?” asked old Cooper. “Isn’t thisyourldred man, Bill?” “I ilissharge mineself,” said Gus, before I had time to reply, “I hafe got another shob, dot maype bays me better os dot. Come my young frient,” tapping young Mr. ’Kiah Simpkins on the arm, “it vos petterdot you pay right away zo I can go on mit de gollec- tion.” “I haven’t any change,” said ’Kiah. “Dot makes me no difference oud. I gan shangc somedings vor you.” ’Kiah reluctantly handed Gus a dollar, which he took, and then going up to 'Liza Putney, said: “Und now, my leedle voman, you vas all de droubles dis efening und you gifs me, of goursc, a hafe a dollar? Vot! you don’t got no money ? Dot vas pad, so I hafe to take de shange of my young frient here,” point ing to ’Kiah, "he vos a fery nice young man und vouldn’t let der lady bay for noding. My young frient, yon gan go home.” By tills time a good many were laughing, and no trouble was had in setting the half dollar from each one present, until it came to old Cooper. Ho held back, and declared, "Bill, ye ought to be ashamed to allow sech goin's on by yer hired man. It’s an outrage” “Dot’s zo," said Gus. “It vos an outrage to gome here, und eat up eferyding vot dis leedle breacher has got in de howus, und den go home und zay your brayers und cgspect to git to dot blace you gall heaven. It’s no use dalkin’ ’bout it anyjonger, Mr. Cooper, you must bay dot feefty zents shust like us oder fellers. You gan make it up ven Nick Roperts dies.” Old Cooper paid. He didn’t care to carry on the conversation. Gus collected sixty- three dollars in all which he dumped into the parson’s hat with the remark: “Dot's burty pu^y; und now, Mr. Bill, I hires my self out again to you.” We drove home.—[Milling World. The Tunned Under Dover 8traits.—From London, June 17th, we learn that Sir Ed ward Watkin, chairman of the South-west ern Railroad Company, has informed a meeting of thut company that two experi mental shafts for the proposed channel tunnel have been sunk on the English side and two on the French side, and that from one of the shafts on the English side a gal lery eight or nine hundred yards long and seven feet in diameter had been driven. The progress during fhe last week has been six ty-seven yards, which is equal to two miles yearly. They have thus solved the question of the rate of progress for the experimental gallery, and ascertained that the lower stra ta is impermeable to water. The French ex periments have realized exactly the same re sults. They had arrived, he said, at an un derstanding with the French tunnel com mittee tlia't on each side of the channel a further heading of a mile should be driven When these heads are finished, which cer tainly ought to be in six months, one-tenth of the question would have been dealt with, and a further treaty will then probably be proposed, under which party would ac complish the remaining nine miles on its side in view of meeting in the middle of the tunnel. A seven-foot gallery, on this sys tem, ta be completed in five years. Many a true heart that would have come back like a dove to the ark, after its first transgression, has been frightened beyond recall by the angry look and menace, the taunt) the savage charity of an unforgiving spirit.