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IN EMBRYO,
The egg in the shallow brown nest—
How lifeless, bow pale to the eye!
How longitis pressed to the mother’s warm
breast,
And kept from the shafts of the sky!
Vet listen ’ mv y sweet ’
O listen, , my sweet
And think on the changes that fall
For a heart is beginning to tremble and beat
Close under the delicate wall!
-A bird is astir in the nest—
The creature of sunshine and day;
How little and weak, with its wide yellow
beak,
Its body all naked and gray!
.Yet listen, my dear,
Oh listen, my dear,
And think on the chances that fall,
For the carols of summer are joyful to hear,
And Hone is the ruler of all!
As magic is wrought in the nest,
The night is pursued by the morn,
And surely at last from the walls of the past
The life of the future is born.
Thon listen, my sweet,
Oh listen, my sweet,
And think on the changes that fall,
For the heart of the morrow will quioken and
beat,
And hurst into being for all!
—Bora Bead Goodale , in Young People.
LAUNCE.
The last ray from the setting sun fell
on a broken shaft across lake Lucerne,
.fate touching with a rich hue the handsome
of Launce, the boat-house keeper,
as he sat on the edge, of the long plat
form, with his fishing-line ° dropped 11 in the
water.
The sad look in his smouldering dark
eyes did not bespeak much enjoyment of
his occupation. As he jerked his line
from the water landing a shining beauty
beside him, a shadow tell along the plat
form, and a girl’s light step came after
it
“What success, Launce? Have you
•enough yet? You must bring them at
once, for the supper must not be de
layed,” said a sweet but imperative
T0,ce -
“ Would the consequence , be so terri
Lie if the Count Von Bruner should
get his supper as soon as he should want
it T asked the dark-faced Launce, with
smiling sarcasm, as he arose and took up
the basket or fish.
“1 cannot say: only Aunt Wilmine is
anxious that everything should be ready
when the carriage arrives.” she
impatiently. “Give me the basket; I
wili take them myself.”
“ Weii here they are,, my lady; and
it - hopeful I that the
is am Count will
get a fishbone in.his throat,” said Launce,
with a hail cynical laugh, as he held the
basket toward her. When she reached
to take it he caught her small hand in
his, and pressed a kiss upon it.
The girl’s face grew crimson with
anger. She snatched her hand away,
uttering “How with vehemence:
dare you, presumptuous fel
* 0W! ”
“Vour words are true, Gretchen. It
is presemptuous for me to love you: jet
I cannot help doing so. 1 will notagain
offend you.” He put the basket down
at her feet and looked regretfully at the
beautiful face, transformed with anger
and wounded ]>r:de.
will _“If send 1 tell Aunt Wilmine immediately. of this t?he she
is. you away
witnessed calling me now. bold and act. has no doubt
your How can I
ever inganger. forgive you?” she said with increas
“ You will forgive me muetime,
Gretehen. Te l your aunt I am going
away to save her the trouble of sending
Zn can fi’f td it it betr better r/bm"! than 1 u G mj plaCe - He
mJc lbddfb^'‘f if 1 , hf: S V' t ' I ltl y ns daik h ° r StCp sad
W '
1 j r. n l i C :°T°
ment w bcloie, , then he went into his little
room, which was a part of the boathouse,
an picparea cis simple meal, as was
ms custom
" ‘/' ar fpatpd at 1IS sma, l w . ‘ n '
Gictchen , and the
fhrnmi Bruner 8t r °’ Pu o
parterres tv h ot’ f fioweis. fl M , ith a
elffriH 11 n'° • ,ea ° usy ’ saw the
Count pluck the rarest rose to place in
ma-ter of land and 11 lady, ' vpre which all ' oa fy lie
fondly would accept hoped the to be, suit it lie came the fair to plead lady
with her ambitious aunt.
Launce sat looking at the great man
. long alter Gretchen and the Count
sion
had gone in. The lights from the arched
windows slione through the lace cur
tains, nncl Gretclien’s pure, rich voice
oated across the distance in that, pas
S! ° na e s °ng. Thou art so near and
a™* rw i 6 ? - 8 “W Ce ?, Sed , Sudde „ .. ? ly .
' ’
T Launce aroused himself. w He went into
a small inner-room, and took from a peg
on the wall an old leathern bag, “down then
having lighted a candle-sat to
examine its contents. There was but
little to look at: an old, worn violin, that
had been his father’s, and a large wallet
filled with old letters written in Italian,
I.aunce looked eagerly among them
until he came to one not quite so yellow
as the others. Five years had passed
since, he placed this letter in the old wal
lot. The remembrance of it had faded
year dream. by year,until it seemed like a vague
had Something within his heart to-night
recalled more vividly the memory of
the time when his father lay dying,
had given him this letter, telling him
when he should be all alone in the world
to do as the letter directed him.
Launce was too young at that time to
do more than earn a scant
but he was now seventeen, and he re
proaehed himself that the command of
his dying father—that might be the
means of restoring him to family and
title. which his father had lost through
wilfulness—had so long been disre
garde<L
He studied the letter closelv fora long
time; put his then few he articles replaced of apparel the “papers and what and
money he had into the old bag. Having
extinguished Un the light, he took the vio
and sat down once more at the little
window.
Months had elapsed since its strings
Lad responded to the touch of his fingers,
With the quickness of an expert he tuned
the chords to harmony, then lost himself
in a sad, weird improvisation, as he had
««en heard his father do in his sad hours
when they were together.
The lights were out in the drawing
room of the great house, and Gretchen
Lad gone to her own apartments. The
gibbous moon hung high above the
mountain top, and shone like quivering
sil-er on the lake. Wild, sweet zephyrs,
that seemed to come from some strange
sphere swept through the vines that
hung at her window.
no w . while she stands there,
what sound is that, swelling and. dying
°5 the night winds? Ah, those strains!
N°w filled with love, again with passion
ate despair, they float and quiver in the
m0 °nlight,- then, wafted through the
casement, envelop Gretchen in a
cadence.
The swaying vines touch her soft ciieek
where a teardrop rests. She knew
whence it came, nor why.
She kept thinking of Launce, who had
dared to say he loved her—who had
dared to kiss her hand, and say she
would some day forgive him. Could she
ever do so? Poor, lonely Launce; with
no friends, no companionship.
was he not already forgiven?
The strains had died away, and
was losing herself in a wild,
improbable fancy, in which she was
.wooed by one whom she loved, who was
noble and high-born, but who had eyes
like La '1 nee’s, in whosepassionasedepths
was reflected her own soui. ~
dream £he was amused from this waking
by seeing the figure of a man
cautiously approaching from the direc
tion of the boat-house. Could it be
Launce ! and what could lie want at this
Lour ? She forgot all her sympathy for
and, her old pride returning, she
felt angrv as she realized that he was
coming feared directly under her window. She
to ask why he was there lest
somebody should hear her. She drew
back in the shadow of the room.
agam! Larewcll, Carissima, until we meet
came 111 l0W ’ Sad tones 10 her
eal -
“Launce! I.aunce!” ner heart
! JUt he r hp made 110 Soun<1 ' When she
)ook , cd , a "f ,n - shc saw onl y il (lalk , object
. along the white , road; then it
moving faded in the weird
Aunt out Wilmine moonlight. the
was very angry
next th morning at I.aunce’s failure to bring
e usual basket of fish- for breakfast,
forthwith installed Dutch .Ians in
L'S place ; but she was more angry at
Gretchen s refusal that day of the Count’s
offer of marriage.
She had cherished the fond hope of
scheme ^eiag her niece a countess. ■ Her grand
had been successful; the prize
was within her grasp. Thus rudely to
have the enchanting dream dispelled was
more than her ambitious heart could
beat with fortitude. She stormed and
threatened, to no purpose. Gretchen
was firm in her decision.
Wilmine, “Marry the Count yourself,
, ’she said. “1 am sure you are
quite young enough for him. As for
myself, I do not wish to be married. ”
I shall send you back to the convent,
Gr « tch ?“, until you can act with reason
and give a favorable answer to the
Count,” declared her irate aunt ’ with
tears of vexation filling of* her eyes.
This decision Aunt Wilmine’s
seemed to allay the anger and mortifica
tion of the Count, who went away with
the understanding that he should be
notified of any change in Gretchen’s
sentiments towards him.
The prospect of returning to the con
vent which had been a sweet, peaceful
home to Grech ten for so many years, was
looked not very forward appalling as theevent a punishment. She
to with much
greater calmness than to the thought
of Bruner. becoming the bride of Count Yon
The decree of banishment being un
alterable, Grelchei, went back to St.
Ursula's, there to remain a prisoner un
til her acquiesence in her aunt’s plans
should set her free.
'When, a week later, she wrote that
she had entered on a course of music
that would require five years to com
plete, checkmated. Aunt Wilmine acknowledged her
self
* * =5 * *
The summer guests at Wiesbaden
were in a state of delightful expectation
over the announcement that the wonder
ful young violinist. Count Cellini, ’ would
give There a concert had been at that place
a number of new ar
rivals at (he spacious Hotel de [’Europe.
and the younger ladies were on the (ini
vivo to discover which was the famous
musician who, rumor said, belonged to
one of the first families of Italy,a:ul had
inherited immense wealth from a de
ceased relative.
The guests were assembled for supper
at the grand table d’hote. A portly
matron at the farther end is no less a
personage than Aunt Wilmine, and be
side her the fair Gretchen, somewhat
older than when last we saw her, but
with a matured loveliness that far ex
coeds her girlish beauty. They have
spent a year in travel since Gretchen was
released from the convent. Count Von
Bruner, seated on Aunt Wilmine’s right,
with a surviving hope still in his heart,
has joined them at Weisbaden.
A young man seated almost opposite
to Gretchen, and who was unmistakably
Italian, was the target for many bright
and furtive glances. His gaze was re
peatedly fixed upon Gretchen, who
seemed entirely oblivious of his presence.
As he rose to leave the table their eyes
met.
At the concert that uio-ht °in their eyes
metagain; violinist. for he was reality the
great When he played the
music seemed to recall those sad strains
she had heard the night Launce went
away. Before her mental vision arose
the moonlit road, and on it one lone
that faded like a phantom.
The next day Gretchen and Aunt
Wilmine returned to their suburban
home, from which they had been at, sect
so long. Count Von Bruner accompanied
them to again urge his suit.
“Gretchen has no lovers, and cares for
no one else,” Aunt Wilmine argued with
“and, now that she is older and
wiser, must See Where* the propriety of choosing
a husband. should she find one
save in the Count, who has been so faith
ful and long irriTed waiting?”
They fatigued, at home in the afternoon,
Being day. Gretchen kept her room
until the next Then, eager for
sight the mountain of her old side, haunts she and left a clamber up
the house un¬
known to her aunt.
The Count, growing impatient at her
non-appearance, /‘ sent to request an inter
v5ew Not hcr in her r00
Aunt Wilmine learned from the servants
that she had gone for a walk.
Lor Thinking it a propitious time to follow
to some romantic spot and urge her
acceptance of his love, the Count took
his hat and hastened to find her.
Down by the old boat-house Gretchen
had gone, where she lingered awhile,
tlii nking of Launce and his last low words,
spoken Carissima, under her windows: “Farewell,
until we meet again. - ’ Ah!
that would never be!
She gave a faint sigh as she left the
place, mountain and in was search soon climbing favorite up the
of her wild
flower—the mountain pink.
Presently she espied a bunch, but un
fortunately they were in a spot amost in
accessible—on a steep slope directly over
the lake, where a false step would pre
cipitatc desire her have into them its deep waters. Her
to overcame hcr fears
at last, and creeping cautiously along,
holding by strong prized vines and bushes she.
secured her
As she turned to so back a portion
of the projection that had served as a
foothold, lake, broke loose and fell into the
her safety. leaving her no hope of regaining
r„t wL h .1 , 8h , ® saw *¥
Count w t W
/ at 1 er fept ' Caiiin S
Cfr'iu!!! ut, u ' heT she clung , to
°Iw ” : ll0
P e -
The ( ’mint d w*" l °T
makto-r instead r„,‘. ..-°*. of W- ller0, I' ^ p u ^ s ra “ to
the km,-, : ’ Gretch
. Jn wit i f t l' n sti ength, hanging in
extreme : o
' 1 er ‘.
“r nnr * V*' T ,..-u jl y ° U
ST Hold * tn tl °i *'*?“*’ “ f
J £ \ ' a clear ’ rlcil volce ’
,,J, r \ n n a „ moment °^ the owner e boat of e house, the , voice and
£ . vir X * /e fr hn'nf " “
‘ o t Giehhen en " un ff
liV -Now jump into . the lake; do not
- ly of escape.”
* eaP - ls y° nr on way
Gretchen , obeyed the voice that com
ma ' K cf ber. anc ‘ sank into the dark
^' a ‘ CT - The next moment she came to
the surface, and was lilted into the boat
iy “ ur brave rescuer. She was uncon
scious and Launce was excusable if he
“yu p® fa ® e the '''°™ an h ® loved -
.
k ,\ n ,\ K '
*1 t “ d .’ that h ®
2°\ 1 k * J™ 4 “JVWT °!
‘ .'..’l -; tv GieiTru; fiom a
/ t f , , n raice ,.*
‘ ' * c \ f c i° ws L f a e
, , , .
1 ’ e( 0 ? a1u ' e too • us
'
P£vo”e . worA to
lXl V- le “l- l 1 <lte - ‘
1 ^ ’ r c en re( ‘overe<! conscious
and looked , , , «P on her l' reserver ’ 8ll °
ft ' iff
...., whom^'met { - .. V .. fr
musician
-lam Which ” he replied “but bette? I have another
title by you mav remen bm
me launce’ and 1 hive come back for
Jou your forHvcness V™ for the offence T n <. ve
siv war >>
“Oh ni-rhi' I auneei vou had mv fowivenoss ^
the voumntww” snm'ethino
“Vow I wmf move ’ Cret
chen-~! want vnm-love ”
<q think , ,.’l „; vc ■' thilt with th for .
es 1 a n 1 A v w io . , C.u,pei.
, . . -
A Gigantic Turnip,
From time to time the most wonderful
plants known on the earth are shoved
aside by wonders still more wonderful
It is not so very long ago since thousands
fiocked to see ihe great Queen of the
Amazon, the Victoria water lily. Many
a sinc-e greater then—now vegetable it marvel is has'appeared ‘aroid,
which interested a -giant
those in these vegetable
curios are waiting and watching for in
the Koyal Kew collection. It is not far
removed botaoioally from our common
Indian turnip, and when its flowers ex
pand, as hoped for Ibis year, the odor of
*Le skunk cabbage is expected to be in¬
creased a hundred fold. While our
Arum or Indian turnip has a tuber of
about six inches in circumference, this
will reach five feet. The leaf-stalk of
(, nrf is from twelve to eighteen inches—
this i« about ten feet, and the stalk itself
is three feet round, as against three
inches in ours. The circumfcreucc of
the leaf-blade is forty-live feet. Only
think of a leaf-blade to a plant that dies
to the ground every year, extending fif
teen feet across ! The Victoria lily leaf,
six or eight feet across, w as deemed
something prodigious. .The flower will
Lc somewhat like our well-known cal la.
lily, bat with a long and curiously twist¬
ed spadix, from whence it receives its
generic name.— hulrjicdent.
it -ated by Chemical Foot Warmers.
Luke Sharp savs in the Detroit Free
Press: r once brought by°assenin" a <mod deal of
ridicule upon myself in
these columns that 1 traveled on an Eng
lish train heated bv chemical footwarm
ers. When these'things “avc •■■ot. cold you
shook ’em up and tlicv out heat
again. 1 never got anyone to believe
this storv, and vet if was true. I have
found out since “that the chemical used
was some sort of soda affair, afu! I un
derstand that the fact that this compound
of soda will give out heat has caused it
to be used as an engine for running street
cars. I believe that they are «-oin<>- to
use the soda motor on a Chicago street
ear line. I don't know-whether any of
the soda foot warmers arc used in Eng
] U nd or not. I couldn’t, find any on the
little island when I was there last win
ter, though to°do urged so'for bv mv unbelieving
friends the sake of mv owa
reputation for vcracitv ’
