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"WE WILL CLING TO THE PILLARS OF THE TEXPLE OF OUR LRhRT, ,AND IF IT ITWEI
SINKINS, DURISOE & CO., Proprietors. ET EFJELD,SLUME II --. .
The Mothers of the South.
The Mothers of the South !
In the lurid morn of battle,
When from the cannon's mouth,
Came the thunders deshly rattle,
Tieir air and fragile forms
Shrank not, In terror from us,
But-rainbows on the storms
Still gaveus freedom's promise!
Then pledge to-night their memories bright,
- Our noble Southern mothers!
Who In the strife-maid, matron, wife
Stood by their sons and brothers I
On Camden's fatal plain.
At Eutaw and Savannah,
.The star of freedom's train
Was beauty's woven banner!
Throughout the night of woe,
The ag was still resplendent,
And many a son fell low
To keep its folds ascendant!
Thesapledge to-night their memorlesbright,
O r noble-southern mothers !
Who In the strife-maid, matron, wife
. Stood by their sons and brothers!
Oh, I we'll keep their names
Embalmed in song and story,
Those lion-hearted dames,
Who cradled freedom's glory;
And should the strife of war
B'er tinge again our waters,
We'll find our hearts to cheer,
Those matrons in their daughters!
Then pledge to-night their memories bright,
Our noble Southern mothers !
Who in the strife-maid, matron, wife
Stood by their sons and brothers!
Written for the Advertiser.
"A new set of sables? NoWmadam ; I as
sure you I've not got five hundred dollars to
give you to buy a set of sables nor anything
else. And I wish to say to you, Mrs. Bre
voort, that there must be no more bills sent
in; your account at Bulpiris is nine hundred
dollars now,-and I must insist that hereafter
you pay for what you buy instead of having
the bills sent to me."
" Well, I muit say, Mr. Brevoort, that'i
think it very incomiderate and unkind of
you to refuse me so trifling an amount as five
hundred dollars. I cannot possibly go out
until I have a new set of furs."
"You will be obliged to remain at home
the- , ateast-until Ieainaeke a raise.- I am.
terribly hard, up at present. Two thousand
dollars totpay in-the bank to-morrow; and
I freally do not know which way to turn to
get even one hundred dollars of the money.
So its quite useless to talk to me about furs.
I must try and borrow the money some
where, to pay that note in bank. I wonder
if George Sago would'nt lend me a few thou
"I expect perhaps he would-.that sort of
people generally have money to lend."
" By the way, this is Mrs. Sago's reception
day. I think you had better call on her; it
might have a good effect, you know."
"What ! I call on Mrs. Sage!. Are you
crasy, Mr. Brevoort?/ Would you have me
call on those vulgauisns, and become the
laughing stock of our set? You have most
certainly taken leave of your senhe"."
"Tou can do as you please 'about it of
course. I dont insist upon your going, though
6ii I could borrow five thousand from him I
could then let you have five hundred to pur
chase those sables you were speaking of;
and, I think, under the circumstances, it is
but fair and right that you should do some
thing to assist me in negotiating the loan, not
thatlIwish you to appear to kow any thing
of the matter, but your visit would make a
"Ildont se howlIcan possibly make up
my mind to go there. Did'nt you tell me
tliat he was formerly a runner,, or a drum
mer, or something of the sort for some dry
goods house ?1"
" No, I told you that he was, head clerk at
Allen & Hurn's previous to the death of
his Uncle, who left him the neat little fortune
of two hundred thousand dollars, all in cash
too. I must really try to borrow some from
him, and I think that with your assistance I
"Well, I suppose I must make some sacri
flee for your beniat. What sort of a person
Is Mrs. Sago? Do yotnknow any thing of
" Only that she is very pretty."
"Pshaw! I hate pretty women, they are
certain to be either low-born or simple,-.and
generally both. I think though I will try to
assist you in this af'air, provided you will
give me a thousand dollars of the money ii
yqu succeed in borrowing Ave throusand."
"It's a barghin. 'Let isa now settle the
-preliinuaries. You take the carriage, and
mnake your visit at twelve. I will come while
you are there j make yourself agreeable to
the lady and we shall succeed. I understand
he is quite deveted to his wife, andl never
lends money withotit her consent, which sh~e
would not be likely to withhold, and you in
the house. Now I think we know how to
" I must go, I suppose, but I must insist
that yoa will be punctual, as I don't wish to
remain there over five minutes at the very
" Never fear. Il not keep you waiting.?
" Well, Burdotte, what shall I wear-? This
is my first reception day, and I should like
to uake a good impression ; first impressions
are lasting you know. I think P11 wear this
amber colored sattin. It is made very fash
ionably low nathe ~neck, and short sleeves.
15en'there is my ruby necklace, and the
imidamany hair. I think the dress will
bSYhSS8il; ,il8 qu S At iii
Burdotte, for. really you have great taste in
"Well, mum, if I were to choose I should
say wear a handsome morning dress. Now
this foulard robe for instance, or that white
marine with the blue facings; something a
little neglige you know. Then for the hair
a little cap of lace, or something of that sort."
"Shocking,- Burdotte, 'you surely would
not have me receive company in a morning
dress. I should certainly like to be as well
dressed as .any one who might happen to
"That is it, mum. Supposing no body
should happen to come; you see mum this
being your first reception you wont have a
large crowd perhaps, and it may be better not
toexpectmany. Now, mum, when I lived with
Lady Clara Bently, why her receptions were
perfect jams; the two drawing rooms and
front passage crowded from twelve until five.
But then you see, mum, Lady Clara was of
a very old family indeed, and had such a host
of acquaintances. If I were in your place,
mum, I'd wear this foulard robe and this
pretty French cap. Those Clintons on the
other side of the street will be on the watch,
and I would'nt appear to dress much, -nor be
anxious for company."
" Well, Burdotte, perhaps you are in the
right," and with a sigh Mrs. Sago laid aside
the very handsome and elaborate evening
dress she had anticipated wearing on this her
first day of reception..
Mr. Brevoort scarcely did her justice when
he said she was pretty; she was more than
merely pretty; she was beautiful, perfectly
lovely in face and form, but with a mind en
tirely destitute of mental culture, for Minnie
Moore was poor, and in the days of her girl
hood a manufacturer of- artificial flowers;
she was prudent and amiable; every body
said Minnie was a nice girl and for once every
body was right. It was no wonder that
George Sago should have fallen in love with
her, seeing her pass Allen & Hurn's twice
each day on her way to and from the shop
where she was employed; and he thought
himself the happiest man alive when Minnie
consented to become Mrs. Sago and share his
lot in life, and the thousand dollars a year
he received as a salary. They were a happy
young couple, all in all to each other. Am
bition had not then found a place in their
hearts and they were satisfied with their
station in life without a wish to rank higher
in the social scale. Their home was with a
middle-aged widow lady who supported
herself by keeping boarders. Oft times in
after life did Geogge Sage sigh for the happy
cosy hours he had pawed in the unpretending
two story brick house, but sighed alas, in vain.
Five years have passed since his marriage,
and George Sago is still head clerk at Allen
&7ffdutf['azilthe lower hnsband of.five,
years before, and Minnie is even prettier than
on her wedding day. Mrs. Mervin the lady
they board with, thinks them a model couple
-and shethinks aright.
But Mr. Sago's uncle dies and leaves him
two hundred thousand dollars, and- this chan
ges all their prospects for the future. Allen
& Hurn offer him a co-partnership, but he
refuses, telling them that he is tired of the.
business, and must rest awhile and travel
some. Mrs. Sage has grown ambitione, and
wants a residence up town in some rashiona
bleStreet or Avenue. Her hus'band is only
too happy to be able to gratify her, and forth
with purchases an elegant five story granite
building on the corner, of fourth Avenue and
Ninth street, to which they remove. Mr. Sa
go is aman of leisure now; and Mrs. Sage
in a fair way of becoming a fashionable,
heartless woman of the world. Some few of
her fashionable neighbors have called, among
whom are Mrs. and the Misses Clinton who
live directly opposite. On entering the draw
ing-room Mrs. Sage invites them to lay off
their bonnets, which request is met by a very
broad stare, and a very cool, "No I thank
you; we are out paying visits,"-and Mrs.
Sage is set down by them as being very igno
rant and a perfect novice as to the usages of
society. So Mrs. Clinton and her two daugh
ters return home with the full determination
of never calling on her again. Every lady
who lives in the neighborhood has a maid
and of courne Mrs. Sage must have one too.
She prefers a French woman, and Mr. Sage
Whdrtises for one, which advertisement is
answered by Rearly a hundred applicants,
from which number Mrs. Sage selects Agnes
Burdotte,a middle-aged woman, who purports
to be French, though from her broad kentish
socent would certainly be taken for English.
But Mrs. Sage does not possess any great
deal of penetration, and considers herself
quite fortunate in securing the serices of
Agnes Burdotte, whosechief recommendation
is that she has once beeli the attendant of
Lady Clara Bently, of Bently Manor, Devon
C01Ai'T1i1 11t. ..
.It. is eleven o'clock a. mn., and Mrs. Sago,
wearing the foulard silk morning robe and
French cap, goes down to the drawing-room,
where there is a very perceptible smell of
new furniture; and very quiet is all within
that drawing-room. No sound save the mono
tonous ticking of the small French clock-on
the marble mantle,-vases are filled with
rare flowers,-the walls are almost covered
with painting., some of them gems of art,
beautiful atatuary and elegant surroundings,
but no air of home comfort; everything is
too new for that. The folding doors are open,
throwing the front and back drawinig-roomsa
into one for the occasion; and Mrs. Sage
walks from one to the other feeling a very
little out of humour. and very much dissatis
fied with her tord esenbke. She was standing
in the middle of the floor, determining in her
own mind to go to her room, and exchange
her dress for one more to her taste, when
there was a ring at the'door bell. Making a
plunge she landed in the middle of a sofa,
where perfectly erect and with folded hands
she was,sitting as motionless as a statue,
when Burdotte, after a very slight rap, entered
to say that the cut glass had arrived.
"If I were in your place1 mum, I'd have
slittle piece of fancy needle-work in my hand,
oskank entinUeU Of ihe ortasamat
to appear to be waiting for any body to come.
Now, mum, if you were to be writing notes
that would answer."
"But, Burdotte, I have no notes to write."
"Well, mum, that dont matter; you-know
you could be writing something or other,
just for looks, so'that if any one comes you
will appear to be rather broken in upon us
one might say, instead of waiting for them.
il just show you mum, if you please."
The writing desk was brought, Mrs. Se
go was seated at it by Burdotte, who scatter
ed writing materials about in a careless man
ner, placed a chair and foot stool in close
proximity to where her Mistress was seated,
as though there- had been company and left
the room. Mrs. Sago began to think that it
was a great thing to have a French waiting
maid. And there she sat a weary hour, which
certainly appeared like five at the very least.
The French clock strikes twelve-nobody
yet-she is in dispair. Just then the sound
of carriage wheels is heard coming down the
quiet avenue; it certainly stops at the door;
what would Mrs.Sago not give to run and peep
out at the window, but she resists the temp
tation and remains writing. Presently Jud
son, the waiter, throws open the drawing
room door and announces Mrs. Astley Bre
voort. Mrs. Sago is somewhat flurried but
manages to go through the usual routine of
compliments in accordance with Burdott's
training. Now there is another ring of the
door boll, and Mrs. Sago begins to think her
self quite in luck; but this time the visitor
asks for Mr. Sago. Judson asks the gentle
man to " walk in the parlour; Mr. Sago is in
No, he "will go to the library and see Mr.
The front basement door opens and Mr.
Astley Brevoort is ushered into the library
where George Sago, not expecting company,
sits before the fire with his fees upon tho
grate, a segar in his mouth, and to tell the
truth more than half asleep. But more ac
cu tomed than his wife to society, he receives
the distinguished visitor with polite ease.
They are not strangers, having met several
times previous at the "Club," of which
both are members.
They chat quite sociably for a few minutes,
and then Mr. Brevoort remarks, that he
did intend riding over with Mrs. Brevoort
but being five minutes behind the hour named,
she had driven off and left him to walk. He
hopes, however, that he shall not be deprived
on that account of the pleasure of paying his
respects to Mrs. Sigo.
Mr. Sago tells him that be shall be most
happy to introduce him, and invites him up
to the parlour.
Mr. Brevoort has a little matter of busi
nep to settle, and then he will be delighted.
Salailketai . e 'the ( seoffle ou
sand dollars for a very short time.
Mr. Sago would lend it to him with pleas
ure, but makes it a point never to lend money
without first consulting his wife, and ma she
has company he does not like to interrupt
her to-day, but will speak to her about it to
night, and send the amount in the morning.
This not exactly suiting Mr. Brevoort, who
has implicit faith in the old adage that " a
bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,"
thinks for a moment, and then says, that as
there are no other visitors at that time, ex
cept Mrs. Brevoort, and it being necessary
that he should use part of the money to-day,
perhaps they might as well go up to the par
lour and settle the matter at once, or Mr.
Sage can write a line to Mrs. Sage if he pre'
ers doing so.
The line is written ad sent In to Mrs.
Sag, requesting her to step into the front
passage for a moment, which Mrs. Sago does
without even asking her visitoi- to excuse
her-there being no proviso for such an emer
gency in Burdotte's training..
So anxious is Mrs. Brevoort about the re
sult, knowing perfectly well why. Mrs. Sage
is'called from the room, that she scarcely
notices her abrupt manner of leaving.
Of course Mrs. Sage is perfectly willing
that her husband should lend Mr. Brevoort
the money, which that gentleman pockets,
and then comes up to the parlour where he
makes himself very agreeable for the space
of half an hour.
* * * * * * *
" Why, mamma," says Miss Clinton who is
watching to see if any one is going to call on
those odious Sagos, "I declare if there isn't
Mrs. Astley Brevoort's carriage over at that
horrid woman's door, and there Is Mrs. Bre
oort actually getting out. I should so like
to meet her...do let us dress and go over,"
" Well, Maria," replies mamma, "I think It
would be a good plan. Perhaps Mrs. Bre
voort might invite us to come and see her9
who knows. And there is Mr. Brevoort go
ing up the steps ; we must hurry and dress,
or we shall be too late. We will not say any
thing to your sister about it, as it takes her
so long to get ready ; she can go another
The mother and daughter make all possible
haste and arrive just in time to see Mr. and
Mrs. Brevoort step Into the carriage and drive
off. They pay the visit, however, and on
their return home conclude that "Mrs. Sago
has improved wonderfully."
The Clintons wero not the only ones who
saw the Brevoorts make their visit to their
new neighbour ; several ladies of 'acknowl
edged position in society had been on the
watch, as well as the Clintons, and taking
their cue accordingly, honored Mrs. Sago's
reception because Mrs. Astley Brevoort had
done so-that lady being considered quite a
leader of the ton. So the day ended, and
was termed by Burdotte "quite a success."
And the following morning Mrs. Brevoort
was seen promenading the fashionable side of
Broadway in a new and very elegant set of
Mrs. Sago has made her entree into the
society of New York upper-ten-dom. She
has attended the receptions of those who are
termed the first families. Being rich, she is
ourted by many; and being auniulenvied
s. e i....ns aher -= mar.- 8b de
balls, parties and re-unions without number,
sometimes attended by her husband, and very
frequently without his company or protection,
for Mr. Sag does not enjoy parties, and very
often prefers remaining at home. Atsuch
times Mr. and Mrs. Brevoort call and Uke
her with them, or Judge Haines and ladi
stop for her with their elegant new turn:Ou
Mrs. Sago can undergo a great deal of Lpes
ure and never tires of going ;-a re-Union
or the Opera;va ball,or the Theatre, almoet
every night. She does not know that hor
simplicity of manner, which is pronounned
-scharming" to her face, is termed mere
"guacherile" behind her back; nor that Mrs
Brevoort declared her to be positively "idi
otic" on the day of her first visit. No,-rs
Sago remains in blissful *ignorance- of these
facts, and enjoys society to her heart's con
tent. By those living near, she is pronounpc
"quite an ornament to thei neighborho6?
and a very friendly, social neighborhood it
was. Mrs. and the Misses Clintonsighed forthd
carriage their circumstances would not'admij
of their keeping, but they could always-boi
row " dear Mrs. Sago's" whenever they.waqe
ted to pay visits or go shopping. Mrs. Male
grove, who lived a few doors off, possessed bu
very little silver ware and cut glass, but when
anticipating a dinner party, or an evening rm
union, would pay a very social, neighborl7
visit to Mrs. Sago and request the loan tio
her " plate and glass ware." And Mrs. Hgdg
kiss, who lived next door, being a widow,
in very moderate circumstances, with four
girls ranging in age from eight to fourte"
insinuates to Mrs. Sago that it is a great pitt
that she has no girls to give her dresses to
when she leaves them off, and hints in a very
delicate manner that if she had those-sti
off dresses she could make. use of them, and
from that time her four daughters are kept
elegantly clad in Mrs. Sago's cast off finery
So, literally spoaking, Mrs. Sago might b
considered useful as well as ornamental to
the neighborhood. To be sure she was inul
ted to all the parties in the vicinity) always
attracted a great deal of attention wherver
she went, and was very much carressed by
her acquaintances. But these things were not
to be wondered at. Other men besides Ast
ly Brevoort wanted to borrow money. It
was a well known fact that George Sago had
money, and would lend it to particular frienii
without security, at the request of his wife
So as a matter of course it was beAt to keeg
on the right side of the lady.
Mrs. Sago has made her entree into fash
ionable society, and occupies a conspicuoii
position within its charmed circle. She has
given her time and attention to society and
its usages, read books on "etiquette," " party
giving," and "party going-;" has practic
positions before her mirror and taken leues
talk, and become expert in banding and re
partee. To sum it all up in a very few words,
Mrs. Sago is polished; gives a. ball every
winter to say noihing of her "star parties,"
social evenings and seleet suppers. To be
sure, the time has been when women called
her illiterate, and ignorant; when men bor
rowed her husband's money, ate his dinner,
drank his champaign, and in less than five
minutes after leaving the house called his
wife a fool, a simpleton, an idiot. But a year
has rolled round since then, -and if these
things are not actually forgot ten, they are aol.
dom spoken of.
Yes, Mrs. Sagd is a polished woman of the
world. But is she happier than in days of
yore, when she occupied the back drawing
room, and played with the widow Mervin's
children ? When she watehed for " dear
George" to come that she might give him the
kiss he called so precious; when a ride in
a gig or buggy out on the Harlem road, ox
to Cato's was a delight, a real pleasure ? But
every thing was changed now ; and whenever
scenes of by-gone days presented themselves,
she would strive to shake them off like some
unpleasant dream or horrid night-mare. With
Mr. Sago the ease was far different. He loved
his wife with the same affection as in .days
gne-by ; there was nothing he enjoyed so
much as her society. Yet this was almost
entirely denied him. Besides, there was little
congeniality between them now; she was so
changed, so coldly polite to hinm'in the pros.
ence of strangers; so formal when they
chanced to be without visitors. Ho scarcely
understood their relative positions; she. ap.
peared to have passed on and left him very
far behind. It is no wonder that be became
moody and reserved, disgusted with fashions,
ble life, and out of humour with himself,
sometimes even a little displeased with MIs
nie, considering that she never will stay at
home with him of an evening,-Inmtead of. go
ing to some ball or party. For It very oflem
happens that when he is about to fetire fout
the night she is dressing to go out, and her
time of retiring is when he is getting reads
for breakfast. He always manages to be oui
of the'way on her reception days, and his
social dinners have become rare oeeurances
Mrs. Sago cannot imagine what ails him; hei
is so changed of late. The true cause nevei
for a moment enters her mind ; she does not
dream that, through all the changes that have
taken place-their accession to wealth anid
position-his heart has remained- the same,
She does not dream that he sighs over the
remembrance of the past when they were all
in all to each other. Then he has anothei
cause for disquiet. He has been looking over
his affairs, and awakes to find himself, noi
famous like "'Byron," nor infamous like
" Jasper Smiley," but minus one hundried
thousand dollars. Yes, it is indeed a fact
ie hasloaned t-o his " dear particular friends,'
until one half of his fortune has passed int<
their keeping. And he knows full well that
it would be useless to attempt to get even
portion of it back, as such friends as his neve
expect to return a loan. They consider
thing of that kind just so much made. So hi
determines not to tell Minnie, and he resolvei
furthermore not to lend any more money..
" Well, Mrs. Brevoort, I must have anothe
cool five thonsand out of Saga. Hoy shall -
......sei I enuidur it andh ten rthmn
.ery.least to take-such a couple and in
them to our set. I have but five
d as yet; and I consider myself still
ally dont see how I can assist you, Mr.
You know the Sagos are. quite
ndent of us now."
Tere I beg leave to differ from you, Mrs.
You can be of the- greatest assis
to me. In- fact you will have to be
ef negotiator in this business. Women
much more tact in these matters than
V gallant of yoI to say so; but do tell
to go about it, for I have really noth
wear, and I suppose that as a matter
use you will allow me the same com
Y" nthat you did on the first."
, providing you are as successful; but
y knowl am somewhat doubtful about
ult? Why, I met Sago on change the
day, and he passed me with no other
tion than a very cool bow."
fancy, Mr. Brevoort, take my word for
I met Mrs. Sago last night as the
and she was as friendly as possible; is
improved too, I assure you; has become
t passable-Just to think what a dunce
only one short year ago. I declare
nsformation is quite wonderful."
Sago with her?"
she was with Walsh Castor and his
; they were very attentive to her. I
not wonder if Walsh wanted to borrow
ery likely; or perhaps it was on account
e twenty thousand Sago has already
d him. ' He may be paying him back in
on to his wife; and that is the way I in
to square accounts with him.".
ut how shall I proceed this time ?"
v, we must give a ball and invite them
t k week before the time appointed for
take place. In the meantime, you can
say that we have been disappointed
reception of funds for the occasion or
hing else you please so that you get the
Shall we really give the ball."
- rtainly we shall, provided you get the
Well, I can got it."
Of that I have not the least doubt."
d so the conversation euded. A few
afterward cards were sent out, with the
pliments of Mr. and Mrs. Brevoort. It
to be very select. Many were slighted.
day or two after the invitations were sent
Brevoort called on Mrs. Sago, to make
elf certain that. "she would come as Mr.
rt made such a point of her being there."
Sago promised that she would certain
me; and Mrs. Brevoort was delighted.
that the conversation turned to money
and Mrs. Brevoort made known her
e Sig-wa-inot' so eIbt
Mrs. Sago would let him know aboutit on his
return, and she had no doubt but that he
would either come to Mr. Brevoort with the
amount or send it the.next morning.
Mrs. Brevoort went away a liule anxious,
but tolerably sanguine as to the reault of her
* * * * * * *
" Mr. Sago, Mr. Brevoort wants to borrow
five thousand dollars of you. I promised that
you would send it to him either to night or
soon in the morning," said Mrs. Sago as her
husband entered the tea room.
" I am very sorry that I cannot oblige Mr.
Brevoort, as I have no money to lend ; and
even if I had I would not lend it to Astley
" But I have given my word; Mr. Sago."
"1I cannot help it, Minnie."
" Well, there dont be so absurdl as to call
me by my given name," and Mrs. Sago
smoothed down her clegsut brocade as though
she would wipe out all recollection of the past.
" I will call you Minnie as long as I live.
Itis one of the sweetest names in the whole
vocabulary to me ; it reminds me of the time
when I was happy.".
There, never mind about it, Mr. Sago; but
you will certainly let the Brevoorts have at
least a part of the money. You know they
are going to give a very select party."
"Not a cent, even if I hagl it to spare which
I have not; and as for theirseleetpasrty you may
attend if you choose, but I certainly shall not.
I believe him to be little better than a swin
dler, and his wife is a perfeit snake in the
" How you shock me, Mr. Sage ; why Mrs.
Brevort is the soul of honor;i and I am real
ly quite charmed .with her,"
" Well, my dear, it Is not the first time sInce
the rqation of the world that a wopian has
ben charmed by a ..rpent,"
" How ridiculous yondo talk, Itnm absolute
ly shocked;i people in society don't go on in
t3at manner. Is is certainly considered, very
vulgar so to do."
" Minnie, I despise the scc'ety you talk so
*much about ; decidedly the largest part of the
people who frequent it are humbugs, and I
am quite willing to be rid of them. You talk
about " our set,"-it has cost me half I am
worth to get into the "set," and but fbr you,
darling, I would willingly give the other hali
to get out. There now dent say you'r U shock
ed," but come and sit down- by me, and I'l
tell you- all about it."
And he did tell her his troubles, trials and
grievances,-how he had begn imposed upon,
positively swindled out of his money by peoplt
who had not least the intention of ever paying
him. Of this he felt certain, as he had asked
Col. Maden (who had borrowed laigely fron1
him) when it would be cenvenient for him tc
replace the amount loaned him ? The ques'
tion though very civilly worded, was answered
by a prolonged stare and " I really canno'
say," and Col. Maiden walked og, evidently
offended. So Mr. Sage concluded that he had
no intention of paying at all-.and he wa:
right. Col. Malden was an adventurer in thi
very worst acceptation of the term ; made
I fne appearance on what he borrowed or wol
at the gaming table, had no ostensible busi
ness; in short, was what might be styled
gentleman loafer. It was a mystery to man:
that he had gained admittance into the her
ociety; but there he was, and seemed to has
asEt fmhfughleKd Noen. appunsse
know who had been his stepping-stone to
social position. He claimed to be quite inti- aw
mate with may of the first families, and'if not b
liked .was at least tolerated; had called on p
Mrs. Sago; professed great admiration for
that lady, and borrowed largely of her hus- r
band. And he was not the only man who ei
had .played the game successfully. Many I
others borrowed, and not one of the number di
appeared to have the least intention of paying.
Mr. Sago told his wife all this and more; call- p
ed the society of which she was so fond a pl
"rotten system' and a "humbug ;" pulled al
her idol down before her very eyes, and broke tc
it in a thousand pieces. And then he told bi
her how great a sufferer he had been by her hi
changed manner towaid himself; her neglect al
and coldness ; her blindness to the falsity of ir
the society of which she was a votary and he
a victim. And ended by saying," I wish my oi
uncle had left his money to some one else;
we were a great deal happier before our ac- Iii
cession to wealth. We lived much more p
pleasantly with poor Mrs. Mervin and her te
pretty children; there was but one shadow oj
between us then, darling, and that was that
we had no little ones of our own." cc
" How horridly you do talk. You know I at
cannot endure children; am really very thank- ja
ful that I have none." hi
"I love children, Minnie, and would gladly ae
take one of Mrs. Mervin's little black-eyed girls w<
to educate if you were only willing." bi
" Well, I am not. - I wish that to be dis- gi
tinctly understood. I dont see how you can to
afford to take children to educate, when you le
complain about not having money to ,lead to th
one of my most particular friends." di
" They are but summer friends, Minnie. th
Every one of them; nothing but summer es
friends.' They would desert you in time of 11
need; and were yo'n to become poor and des
titute, not one of the many gaudy butterflies
who now Butter round you would know you, Si
though they were to meet you face to face in
open day." . e
" What false ideas you do take up; so un- e
charitable too, I am truly shocked to hear you at
talk as you do. And you have grown so c'oss
and strange, and so careful of your money
that I am almost afraid to ask for sufficient dr
to enable me to make a proper appearance at .lo
Mrs. Brevoort's party; or you may even wish to
me to remain at home." And Minnie spoke fo
with bitterness. hi
"No, darling; I do not wish to prevent ja
your going. I rather wish you to go; and I ax
have always money sufficient for all necessary O
purposes, and some to spare in charity, but th
not one cent to lend. Here are three hun- th
dred dollars-will that be enough ? And to
here is a hundred more that I must send to
Mrs. Mervin. I had almost forgot to tell you r
I called this morning and found her quite ill; w
I do wish you could go down and see her." -
tatpart of thn city; yet Vaiiit im
why you should send mogey to her."
"I send money to her because she is needy
and worthy; has a family of children to sup.
port, and is ill, I am glad that I have money of
that I can spare as well as not. I would
divide my *last dollar with her, for she has
been as a sister to me; at a time too when I
friends were not over plentiful. I have been I
destitute myself, homeless and withotit money ;
it was at such a time that Mrs. Mervin gave hi
me a home in her ftfmily, and trusted me t
until I could makte the money to pay her." ni
" I dont see why you should revert to those
things now. You cannot suppose them to he gi
at all pleasant to me; and besides~ such alllu- ty
ions are positively vulgar." ni
And Mrs. Sago went to her chamber to a
make out a list for to-morrow's shopping. st
It is the nightof Mrs. Brevoort's select ball ; I
the tastefully arranged drawing-rooms are 01
filled with beautiful women and elegant men; al
fashion and folly, wealth and wastefulness are n4
mingled together in that brilliant assemblage ;
pure and lovely girls just entering upon life's W
holy-day, and young men fresh from College; '
many good and estimable women .are there lU
and very manay honorable upright men, for
society is not all false. Mrs. Sago is there Ie
dressed magnificently and very much admir- ,tl
ed by many of the distinguished guests. Mrs. hb
Brevoort has some friends from Boston stay- w
ing with her ;--l wo sisters,-very lovely and y
accomplished girls-by the name of Whitney.
They appear to be the centre of attraction in C~
that gay assembly. This party is only Gne of CI
a thousand, and too much like all others of its
class to need desoription, The evening wears a
way delightfully; at tw'~Jve, supper is an
onced ithere is a rush for the@ supper rooni;
but the s'epast is not so substatntial nor abun.- II
dant as these thitiga generally atre istill that al
matters little ; every one appears to enjoy i
themselves. In another hour all have re
turned to the drawing-room and the dance.
Mrs. Sago was anxious to speak to the hostess U
privately, and tell her that Mr. Sago had been. ft
quite short of funds, but was expecting to re- '
eive money soon, and would then lend Mr. ul
Brevoort the required amount. This was not
true, but Mrs Sago wiahed to say something
on the subject by way of apology ; and seeing ~
Mrs. Brevoort standing quite alone was making sa
her way in that direction. The dancers were Ul
in motion and there was not much room to S
spare, and by some chance Mrs. Sago found I
herself in the recess of- a deep bay window. ti
The night air was very refreshing, and Mrs. 01
Sago seated herself behind the heavy window a
drapery intending to remain there until the
dancigeasedpudthere should be more room rn
and a better opportunity for getting in the .u
-vicinity of the hostess. The guests passed -a
and repassed close enough to tread upon her u
dress, but the curtain being down she was a
hidden from view. Presently a couple stop. d
ped in the window recess, so close that Mrs. e
Sago could have touched theta without rising, 5
they were talking quite earnestly and proved a
to be Mrs. Brevoort and one of the Misses 5
" Who is this Mrs. Sago?" Miss Whitney's t
" A mere nobody," was Mrs. Brevoort's i
"She is verybheantiful, and appears to be 2
"s She is a beautui fool. Quite imbecile I
asure you; has hardly sufficient sense to
,have herself properly in company ; and a
irrect nuisance to society."
"I am astonished to hear you say so.
ally thought her quite accomplished and
itertaining in the few moments conversation
had with her when Mr. Brevoort intro
"You did not remain long enough, I sup.
,se, to exhaust her stock in trade of set
irases, learned from her waiting-maid in
I probability. I did not expect her here
-night, not having sent her an invitation,
it Mr. Brevoort is so eccentric, and meeting
r in- the street told her'she must come, and
ie not having any better sense took it as an
"Somehow I never feel like blaming any
e for what they dont know."
"Very true, but any one witheven a ve
;te sense .ought to know better than to
,rch themselves in where they are not wan
d. We can pass now," and the train moved
i out of ear-shot.
Poor Mrs. laigo sat and listened to thi.'
nversation, very hot and very cold by turns,
Ad when they left, felt as though she had
st emerged from a shower bath ; could she
ileive her ears? Was she in her right
naes? Was she awake or dreaming f Such
,re the poor woman's thoughts. She trem.
ad in every limb; and felt quite sick and
ddy. But determined- in her own mind not
betray herself and, making a violent effort,
rt her hiding place as calm and collected as
ough she had not heard a word of -that
eadful conversation. In passing toward
e door, with the intention of ordering her
rriage, she met Mrs. Brevoort who was all
" What I not going so soon, Mrs. Sago ?"
"I am obliged to leave, as I promised Mr.
.go that I would not remain away long."
" You are early in your departure," and the
tertainer passed on. Mrs. Sago gained tht
rriage and then all her fortitude gave way,
d she, woman-like, burst into tears.
* * * * * * *
Mr. Sago was, sitting in his bed-room, in
easing gown and slippers, thinking of days
rg gone by, when Minnie and himself used
pass the evening together, without a wish
e other society,-when he was aroused from
s reverie by the cluck striking one. He
ped up suddenly, and saying, "Yes, I'll'go
d ride home with her," commenced drawing
his boats. -Just then a carriage stopped at
a door; the bell rang violently, and in less
an a minute Mrs. Sigo rushed into the
" Why, Minnie, I was just coming over to
let home with you; but what's the matter
ist are you crying about?"
"0, that horrid woman. I shall certainly
"Do tell me who the woman is, arling, aln
iat she has done to you." The thought up
rmost in Mr. Sago's mind was that some
Le had attempted to poison his wife.
"I wish I was dead."
" Well, I dont. I should be miserable if
a were to die; but do tell me what ails,
" Well, I will," and Mrs. Sago repeated to
r husband the conversation she had unin
ntionally overheard, and concluded with "I'll
ve- go to another party while!I live."
", yes, you will, Minnie. There are some
true hearted people who frequent socie
,thogh the Brevoorts are not among the
ber. I was rather hard on your list of
quatances when I' said that they were all
amer friends. I did not really think so at
e time;i for I know that there are many of
or friends who really esteem you, and snch
wish you to retain. But do try and get rid
people who only make a tool of you. I
ways felt satisfied that the Brevoorts .were
t sincere in their professions of friendship."
" Yet, who would have thought that she
auld have said those horrid things about me,
id told such a dreadful falsehood about the
" The truth is not in such women. Dont
tus talk any more about her. I have been
inking that perhaps I had better go into
isiness with Allen & Hurm. I know they
uld like to have me as a partner;-what do
mu think about itT'
"Perhaps it would be a good idea. Then I
n come down and bring you home in the
" Of course you can. What a darling!i You
u more lik, my precious Minnie to-nIght
an you have been in a long time," '
n Amn!? Well l am glad to hear yott ay
for I amn heartily slck of being admired
id flattered by people who care nothing for
e only so far as I can be of service to them.
intend to weed my acquaintances".
" That's a bright idea of yours, little one.
o so and be certain to weed out all these
shionable upstarts, who are in faeality noth.
Lg but adventurers, and still set themselves
p for so much."
"I'll be certain to do that," and she did.
Who can imagine the astonishment of Mres.
revoort when, a few days after the party,
ie met Mrs. Saga in Broadway, ad stepping
p toher with "how are you, my dear Mrs.
ago." Mrs. S. replied very coldly, "you are
istaken in the person madamr. I hare not
Le pleasure of your acquintance," and passed
a; and that was the termination of their
Mrs. Sago did not treat any one else so
idely, as-she bad not heard any other person
ake use of her name. Though she remained
good deal at home, nevergoing in ecpany,
ileas her husband accompaned her; and was
uh happer in consequence of being more
amestic and tiseful. Hers was a dear-bought
perience ; for the heartless, coarse expres
tons of Mrs. Brevoort wounded her deeply
d costherioods oftears ; stillishe was not
arry that she overheard it, as it opene& her
yes to the true state of affairs, and, as she
>ld her husband, made a woman of her. She
isits Mrs. Mervin very frequently, and is a
reat assistance to the poor widow.
Mr. Sago is still in patnersh(i with Allea
H ura. Eight years have have paMedsince
ha.mmeuemAs at eysle.ad N~si
is again tMe spue o1.19 Use, 1U sag W &eMeb
interest in all that Concerns.her kabeias
sisting the needy and sympalpisig wIththl
alicted. .Her husband idolizes. hr; an4.
there is no shadow. between thei now,. fo
Minnie is the mother of a beautlful black
eyed boy. -
Oh, the merry May has pleassat hor
And dreamily they gild.
As If they bted like the leaves
Upon.a silver tide;
The trees are fall of crimson bae,
- And the woods are fall of brds,
And-the wafers tow to muie,.
Like a tune with pleasant words.
The verdare of the meadow-land
Is creeping to tije 4141,
The sweet, blue.bosaineal violets
Are blowing by th' rills;
The jilach %a alod ol bam
For every wind that stirs
And the larch stands green and beattiMl
Amid the sombre Ar.
Theres perflme upqn every wind-.
Mus In every tree
Dews for the moisture-loving lowers
Sweets for the sucking bee;
The sick come forth for the healing 4o0th,
tbe young are gathering dowers;
And life is atale of poetry,
That Is told by gulden hours.
If 'ts not , true pbIlosophy -
That the spirit when set free
Sdii lingers about it olden home*
In the dower and the tree,
It is very strange that our palses thrill
As the ight of a volse thing,
And our hearto yearn so with tenderness,
iu the beautic tileof Spring.
NKUlicArio.-The )Julliers of the fugi.
tire slave law in the North make a geat
outcry over the- alleged -nullicstion of the
anti-slave trade laws in the South. Thy
ought to set the South: a better 'exampl.
They suggest that the slavers be taken Noth
md~triedy-Northernujuris, which, no doubt,
wold be'aeeable:to the South, if they will
sand their slave rescuers to the South to be
tried by Southein juries.' A comipromite of
his kind woul$ be exketly fair, andi accom
plish more effieiently tha by-any other meas
ll the ends of jutice, Moreover, so long as
Northern kidnappers steal negoes from the
South, they must not be surpnsed if Southern
kidnappers fill the vacuum with negroes stlen
'rom Africa. - Ifthe North wanIs: prevent
this, the most eiectual way to do it is to cease
the war'upon Southern labor, and seten ex
ample of equity,.fair dealing and obedience
th the laws.-Richmond Dispatch.
SUDDx DEATu raox A StsudmAn AUEr.
-We find the followig in the Troy 'Times:
(yn Tuesday of last, week,' a gentleman
amed AugustusBedfod, beloPgig, sa- New.
ork, and who was in this city on busines,
got shaved at one of our barberushis; O* re
turnn from Itt6 the store of a friend with
ironi he-wastvis e remarked that he be.
lieved the barbeJ 'as himsoie dsa,
ppearance. D li kh& dy efi isre
grew worse and he' sered' so 'aiuch from
it he decided tiretuin home, which he' dia
a Wednesday night. 'Bii conditioi rapidly
became-more distresig-the pain extended
through the body and to the -vitala-aud
finally, on Sunday mornig, after mufforing
untold agony, he died. The dece'aed, as
long as he rentained sensible, attribmUted his
safferings to the intoculation -of the pimple
iponlis lip 'with poison from the arber's
Ten MAsoste Gute.-At the recent festival
f the Provincial Grand Lodge, at Glasgow,
Sir Archibald Allison, the .historian% me.
tond, that during the assaulton the Be, as -
a small party of soldiers led up to one of the -
ns placed in areiess, were .received .by a
ody of Russians, and the Edglish-oficer was
about to be bayoneted, when chanetug to catch
the hand of the Russian officer, he hed'.pre.
sence of mind enough to give him a- Maeonie
grip. The Raselan in a moment- struck sup
the bayoniet of his soldier, led his beyw1y fond
brother to the rear, and treted him-,with ili
the kindness of a Mason.- -
I3rLUEKCE oF TENF'za ON~sALan.-Exces
sive labor, exposdre to vet and'cold, deprva
tion of sufficient quantities of nesa and
wholesome food, hab't# 'bad lodging; sloth -
and intemperanee, are aldeadly enemes Gi d~
uman life ; but none of them are so hadeas vlo'
lent and ungoverned p 'cobs. 14ea .an#
womn have surived athlese, and at last.
reachedan extreneold age; but It may be,
safely doubted wh ther a usinigle -instance. een
be found of a man of violent and irasbible
temper, hadituall sndject to storms-ofuegov
erable assionafrio has arrived as a very
advance period of life. 't It s, therdfore,
a mattr of the highest importance toevery
one desirous to preserve a."sound ind..i
a sound body," so that the brittle vesssel of life
ma glide downl thestream of time inaoothly
adsceyinstead of he cotn j~yos.
sed about amidst posha andi-shol ~c
dan e its ' aec t have asp :.et
amit ll hevilsstuesand - ofee ||b
to maintain a ltieA -poeseusion of is owqt
Axe editor a i ket a Ark a
a pretty girl hadieds- broom.-A.iU
editor says that a rathet perverted uatof-the
same instrument caused him to appig br a
ITi adto-bedaneidus to be wdrking
with a sewing -machine near a window..whett
there is a thunderstotta. -It Is also very da.'
rouetosi a some sewing mshass wheB
eISn't a thunder steam. At least we have
foundit so. -
"i Well, my dear what is It.."
"Did not you tellima this world wa sounl?"
"ThenlIwould like to know how it can
come to an end.".
" My child how often must I te'1you not to
talk when you are eating"
A YOUYG physician, * z|eeent autwa
asked why he had not~u to seells
he ini ie tumdt r ihirm aI
relctano~e, Ilhad to
tted egress into the palamatai
the morbid exdtementf
extinguished the vitali,'
Hrnosat-A waeinth Pro~iemwc
in --4he diseasec~ hn e ess
as tae denime aa-d