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P IR A N N II M
H. C. SHEARER, Publisher,
CORfflEB MABEET AND FOTJETH.
INVARIABLY IN ALVAECE,
' . vj S O ' W W ,, J. -
Z. RAGAN, Editor and Proprietor.
From Arthur's Home Magnzine.
RAIN IN THE AFTERNOON.
BY VIRGINIA F. TPWNSEND.
On the many joys of life ho gnzed still, with
the eyes of childhood. Hyflriu.v.
' 'Rowena ! Rowena !'
" 'Well, uncle Harry ?'
The voice, soft and clear, wandered
through the lung hull, and down the
broad staircase, to the gentleman who
Mood at its foot.
It's goinglo rain, and the air's very
damp. You mustn't ride out this after
noon.' Now mind what I say, child.'
And a moment after, the swinging back
of the street door seat a sullen echo thro'
'Now, if that isn't too bad,' ejaculated
Rowena Strong, as she pettishly tossed
down on the table the new fall hat, which
for the last half hour had engrossed her
attention, and walked to the window.
Just look altera moment, as she stands
there, with the crimson curtains throw
ing a rich arts-glow over the fuee she
has drawn close to the window pane. It
is not a handsome face no heightening
:olors no harmony of surroundings can
make it this; but it is piquant and inter
esting, and, I am half inclined to think,
the pout that curves the full red lips is
rallur becoming than otherwise.
'Rowena Strong is an orphan, and her
rich uncle's pet and heiress. Her mem
ory can look over some half score of
years, to the time when she lived in a lit
tle brown house in the country, with her
Mrs. Strong hud married in opposition
to the will of the family, and for many
years there Was but little intercourse be-
' tween ihem. When her husband died,
and lift her in poor health, with scarcely
any means of support, the widow was
too proud to appeal to her relatives for the
aid she needed. Two years went by,
and Mrs. Strong lay on her dying bed ;
and, when she looked on Rowena, the
woman's pride yielded to the mother's
heart. She wrote to her brother. A few
weeks before, he had lain his voting wife
under the summer grass ; and it was with
a softened heart that he hastened to the
leath bed of his sister. From her dying
hands he received Rowena, and pledged
himself to be in deed and in truth a fath
er to her.
He had fulfilled his promise well. Ro
wena had become the idol of the rich
merchant, and her life flowed up to its
twentieth year, a bright, picturesque,
Rowena was by no means a novel
writer's incarnation of all impossible
sweetness and goodness. She had her
faults, and her j etted, luxurious life was
not calculated to evolve the noble charac
teristics of her nature.
, But underneath all the accidental or in
digenous faults of her nature, lay a warm
true heart, and a substratum of good com
mon sense. Rowena stood a few nm
ments, dubiously searching the clouds
with her blue eyes, and then the large
drops began to palter on the roots.,
. 'Well, there's no use fretting about it,'
she said, drawing the curtains together
with a sigh. .'It's going to now ; that's
plain enough to be seen, and I must make
the best of it. . How provoking, though,
when I wanted to wear out my beauty of
a new hat so badlv i Not a soul wil
come here this afternoon, either, and it'll
be as dull as States-prison all the after
noon. I must get hold of something to
read, or I shall certainly die of ennui be
fore uncle Harry gets back.' And she
went to the table and whirled over tho un
cut leaves of several magazines that lay
thereon. As she listlessly glanced among
the pages, her eye lighted on a French
sentence, and she paused to translate the
Jailer ponton of it: t quit soil iht
que lai rendu un homme neurcux en
I wonder if that can be said of me,
murmured the young ladvi'as she laic'
lown the book : and, folding her hands
behind her, she walked thoughtfully up
and down the room.
:'i,et s see ; here 1 am twenty years
old, and yet I can't think I've ever made
one being really happy in all my life. It
makes me feel, bad to say it, for I don'
believe I'm any more selfish than, other
people. 1 ve given a good deal lo beg
ears.' now and then; and there's that
poor family that lived round the alley
Didn't I clothe up all the children in nice
warn, shilling de lains T They looked
just as dirty in two weeks, though, us if
I hadn't touched them. And that threw
cold water on all my benevolent projects
It wain triL'ht to be discouraged so easily
I 'spose ; but now I should really like
to, feel -as ifsl'd ' pei formed one really
good act something that would require
self-denial and ' exertion on my pari
Just' ihen there was a knock at the
chamber door, and a domestic put .her
head inside, t Here's a letter as has just
31 SiUtchlu ImtnmL Sriiflicft ta American !41crtsfs; ICifcn
come for ye, Miss Rnny !'
The young lady caught it eagerly, and,
with a little scream of delight recognized
the hand- riting. It was that of her old
schoolmate, Julia Gilman, between whom
and Rowena had always extsted a warm
They had known each other when the
former lived with her widowed mother, in
the little brown cottage in the country,
and the child-afl'eclion -had strengthened
with their years. Julia was the daught
er of the village doctor, aud of course
icr social position was then superior to
lowcna's; but this had in nowise influ
enced her choice of her friend, and when
the brown cottage was exchanged for the
uxurious city home, Julia's disinteresl-
dncss was fully repaid.
Every year, the people who lived op
posite, saw the sweet lace ol the doctor s
daughter beaming out of Rowena's cham
ber window?, and when the wind carried
their voices across the street, it seemed
like a sudden outbreak of music.
Rowena broke the seal, unmindful of
is flowery device, and read eageily the
elter; but the latter part especially at
tracted her attention, and thus it ran;
'You remember, darling Rowena, our
old school-mate, Matlie English. Can
you nol see her now, with her brouse
brown curls, and her eyes wearing just
the color of chesnuts, when, in frosty
autumn nights they break out of the burs?
Well, I-huve u sad atory to tell yon of
After her father died, the property was
found very much involved, and it is known
that for several years past, Mrs. English
and her daughter have lived mostly on
mortgages of their home, which you are
aware was the lormer s dowry. Lasi
month she was taken severely ill ; in
deed, her recovery is quite problematical,
papa says. - The mortgages on the old
place are quite exhausted, and they have
now no means of subsistence. I believe
it would kill poor Mrs. English outright
to leave her old homo, though how they
can long stay there is a mystery to me.
And now I have a secret lo confide lo
you, machere ! Mattie's beauty has more
than fulfilled the rare promise of her
childhood, and her face is a picture; a
sweet, but rather sad one, with its clear,
Grecian contour, As lips like June rose
buds filled with meadow dew; and her
hair and eyes of brown brouse and ha
Well, 'Squire Allen you remember
him lias taken a fancy to her ! Did you
ever hear anything so absurd I There
are only fifty years difference in their
ages ! 1 wo weeks ago, the giay-lmireu
gentleman proposed lo Maltie, as he did
forty-live years ago to her grandmother.
You know he is immensely wealthy, and
would surround Mrs. English and her
daughter with oil the luxuries which their
previous lives render necessary.
I don't know but for her mother's sake
Matlie English will marry old 'Squire
Allen ; but I do know she had rather die
than do this. Poor girl! My heartaches
whenever I look into her pale, sad face.
But dear me, Rowena, I've gotten to
the bottom of my fourth page, and not
commenced telling you all I have to say,
Bui, reader, we charitably infer you arc
familiar with the conclusions of school
girl letters. Suffice it, this one did nol
lack the usual saccharine elements. Ro-
I wena read over the last page iwice. Then
she resumed her walk.
'How I wish I could help her dear
little, Matlie English. How clearly her
sweet child-face seems looking down on
me now; and I can almost feel my fingers
winding through her rich curls ! To think
of her marrying that gray-haired, bent-
over, wrinkle-faced, 'Squire Allen giv
ing her sweet youth to his age. It makes
mo shudder. If I could enly prevent it
in some -way even a few hundred dollars
might do some good for a little while.
Uncle Harry would give me this lor my
self, but come to asking it for other peo
pie' and Rowena shook"ller head doubt
fully. " ;; "' ' "j '; '
I haven't but fifty dollars by me;
stop yes 1 have ! There s that five hun-
died Uncle Harry gave me to buy a dia
, uond set. If I should tell him I'd con
. : , .... : TrrHrt5:
c luded to wear the old pearls, and keep
the money for another purpose, he'd only
pinch my ear, and say 'I was a changea
ble little minx,' and I could easily inclose
the bills and send them to Matlie,' and
neither she nor any body else would be
the wiser. But I want that diamond set
terribly, lo wear to Mrs. Chapman's
bridal party next week. How charming
it would look with the blue brocade uncle
Harry promised me ! But then there's
poor Matlie English. How could I be
so selfish as to think of diamonds, when
her life's happiness is at stake ? And
here, too, is the opportunity I was long
ing for, of doing good, before Julia's
letter came. God has sent it nie, I
know He has, and I'll not wait another
Rowena Strong turned hastily to her
writing desk ; and there was a light in
her blue eyes, a brightness rising over her
whole face which no diamond could have
She stood at the window, looking out
sadly on the sun, that was going so early
behind the bare hill lops. It had been
one of those November days that hang
their gray, gloomy bordering on the
white skirls of winter, and now the wind
was beginning to take up the funeral song
of the year. With a low, shuddering
cry, the mourner came down from the
mountains and wandered through the
short, dry grass of iho meadows, and up
through the forests. The gray clouds
thickened overhead. No wonder the
face thai looked out at the window grew
I wish I could describe it, with its
clcaily cut profile, its large, long-lashed,
mellow eyes, its full, drooping lips, and
the rich curls that hung all about it. Ah,
me ! this is a faint suggestion of .its beau
The house, a large, old-fashioned, but
very respectable wooden building, stood
in some distance from the road, but the
whole had a bare, deserted kind of look,
which the season alone should not have
'He will he here to night,' murmured
Mattie English, still looking off at the
clouds. 'And I must decide my fate.
God help mt ! I would rather go down
into some kitchen, and toil thpre the ycri
est drudge, all the days of my life, than
marry that rich, old miser. But my poor
mother ; she will starve, or he dependent
on charity, if I do not do litis. I know
the neighbors (Dr. Gilman, especially,)
have secretly helped us for months, and
we haven't money in tho house to buy
another meal. Dear, dear mother! When
I think of her failing health, her former
life of ease and luxury, I know I ought
lo sacrifice myself for her. It would kil
me to see her suffer ; and 'she fnnnn
bio povcuy with the strong heart and
voting health that I have. But to think
of that old mnn's being my husband!
How it makes me shudder,'
Our home should be the proudest in
all Meadow Brook,' he said 'and silks
and jewels should add new lustre to ray
'And with these I shall be bought and
sold.' There was a scornful working ol
the pale, proud face, but iho next moment
it softened, for another memory had come
up lo her heart.
'Oh ! what wil) Paul say, when he re
turns and hears of il !' And now she
has lain her forehead against the window
and the tears are struggling up to the
long-lashed eyes. 'He never told me
loved me, with his lips, but his eyes have
a thousand times, ' I know, too, il was
because his uncle wanted him to marry
that Boston heiress, that he went on this
long journey. Poor fellow 1 Ho did
not like to offend his rich old uncle by
refusing him ; and then Paul is poor, and
had no homo to offer me. But he meant
to, before he returned, and then oh
how happy we might have been
Great sobs were shaking the poor girl'i
frame ! now, for a Jew years up the fu
lure, she saw a little while cottage, wit
green vines over-wrapping it, and the
great stone house of the millionaire, with
its Gothic front, and Grecian statues
seemed like a prison as it loomed up bo
. ;.! T
At that moment '-a' quick, emphatic call&asr winter Paul SiAbfus' came Tlomp
f the old housc-knorker roused Mattie,
nd with an exclamation, 'It will waken
mamma, sue nuiricu to tne uoor, care-
ess of her tear-stained face.
'Here's a letter, for you ma'am,' said
the post-boy, as he held it up, eyeing the
wet cheeks, curiously.
It was mailed from New 'York, and
Mattie could not rccognise'the delicate
but disguised chirograpby of the address.
She hurried back to the half-darkened
sitting room, and opened her letter by the
ightofthe window;.- Several bills fell
at her feet. 1 here were only these
words on a sheet of note paper :
Use these, and do not marry old Allen.'1
Half , believing it was all a dream, she
gathered up the bills. There wera five
iiindred dollars. , Slowly, slowly rose
the conviction of the blessed truth, into
soul ol Mattie hnfflish.
Oh ! if Rowena Strong could only
lave looked into that old room, with the
night shadows choking up the corners.
and seen Maltie English, as, faint with
that overwhelming joy, she sank down
on her knees, murmuring, 'Saved ! sa
ved ! Father in Heaven, how -liull I
thank thee !'
Two years had gassed. It was in the
ate May, and one of those days that are
the Spring s inspirations. The fresh,
rant wind came up from the far-off
fields, and circulated through the great
leart of ihe city, and the sunshine lay in
golden folds all over it.
By the open chamber window of a
tidsome brick dwelling, in one of the
pleassmtcst streets, two young ladies were
sitting, and the wind olten drew aside
the curtains, and showed them to ihe peo
ple opposite, or carried down to the pass-
cr-by,.some sweet, sudden outbreak of
You would have known Rowena Strong
at once, reader : but, though her face had
nol lost its bright, piquant character, il
had toned down into aa expression of
womanly feeling and earnestness, which
greatly heightened its attractions.
Julia Gilman's small figure and sweet
face are opposite her. The delicate Sax
on features, the small mouth, the slightlv
tinled cheeks, with the blue eyes, and
rich, yellow hair, altogether, seem like
an incarnation of young, beautiful girl
'Now, Reeny, darling, it is too bad,'
said Julia, in the first pause of the con
versation which had set between them, an
uninterrupted current for the last two
hours, 'I must not stay here any longer,
in this dusty travelling dress. It isn't
treating you with proper respect. I shall
go and change it this moment.'
No you won't, either,' laughed Rowe
na. at sup pnabed back her Irieiiu into the
chair, rind then souiii.5 kv.oUf on its ami,
she continued, 'Now, I have told you all
about Charlie, and it is settled that you
are to be bride's-maid, I want to hear
about somebody else's matrimonial affairs
You remember, you wrote mo you'd a
a long story to tell, when you came,
about Mattie English and Paul Stcbbius.
Julia's face brightened. 'Oh, yes, I
remember; but it's a great secret. You'll
promise, solemnly, never lo divulge it?'
Well, you know that some two years
ago, Mattie refused 'Squire Allen. All
of a sudden she seemed to become very
happy, and went about the house singing
like a May bird, and making preparations
for her brother to go down to Maryland,
and pass the winter. Everybody won
dered, but nobody knew wljere they ob
tained the money to do this ; but at all
events, Mrs. English went South, the
old house was closed up, aud Maltie ob
tained a situation as governess in Mrs
Miles'8 family for tho winter. She
studied, too, very hard, alt her leisure,
and in tho spring there was an opening in
ihe Academy for an assistant teacher.
Mattie accepted the situation, and last
June her mother relumed from tho South
Willi greatly improved health, as papa
predicted. They rented the old home
stead, for it was theirs no longer, and
Mattie's lips were always as full of smiles
as her brown eyes were of light
: But the cream of my story is to come.
linit, J?riciief, antr
you remember Paul, Rowena T He was
ihe handsomest boy at the Academy,
when you and I went to the district school.
He soon became'a daily visiter at Mrs.
English's. His uncle was terribly angry
when il came to'his ears, and lie threat
ened to cdl Paul off with a shilling. But
his spirited nephew informed him he had
obtained a situation at the South, in some
mercantile business, which would supply
all his and Mattie's wants.
So the crusty old bachelor had to swal
low his chagrin as besl he might, and as
Paul is his favorite, will doubtless make
him his heir. They will be married
next month, and this was the reason Mat
lie could not accept your invitation to at
tend your wedding.'
'You know old 'Squire Allen has mar
ried a Boston beauty. People say it's the
one Paul's uncle designed for him. Last
week Mattie and I rode past their new,
splendid stone dwelling.
I laughed, and whispered, 'Mattie, you
might have been mistress of all that mag
She answered with a shudder, 'Yes,
and I should have been, but for one name
less, unknown friend.'
'What do you mean, Mattie V
She looked at me earnestly, and her
eyes filled with tears. 'I have never
breathed it to any,' she said, 'but mam
ma and Paul ; but I will trust you, Julia.
It was just at" sundown," (how wclM TCP
member ill) and I was expecting 'Squire
Allen that evening, (for it was the one he
had specified,) to hear my decision wheth
er I would be his wife.
My mother was dying slowly ; starva
tion va3 staring us in the face, and I said
in my desperation, I will save my moth
er; I will tell him I will be his wife.
Just then a letter came for me, I open
ed it, and found five hundred dollars, with
these words, 'Use this, and do not marry
Squire Allen.' The letter bore no other
ate or name. That money was my
earthly salvation. You know, Julia, all
it enabled me to do.
And lo that unknown friend do I owe
it, that I am not this day the wretched
wife of that gray-haired old man, the
miserable mislress of yonder great man
Oh, how I have prayed for the 'giver
of lhat gift ;' how I have longed to see
him or her, and say what I feel, and
know to whom I owe all the bliss of the
present, all ihe ectasy of thinking I shall
be Paul's wife.'
'And don't you expect ever lo know
Hardly, Julia, till I learn it up there,'
and her eyes why, Reena, you are
'I can t help it, Julia, and Rowena s
head dropped on her friend's shoulder,
Julia had a sympathetic little heart,
and the sobs came up to her throat so fast
she could not finish her story. At last
the door bell ranjj loudly. Rowena sprang
up, with blushes rolling over her checks.
'That is Charlie,' she said ; 'I always
know his ring.'
And here's my travelling dress ! I
can't bo presented to him in this,' cried
Julia, and with a little shriek at the bare
contemplation of so terrible an occurrence,
she bounded toward her trunks in iho
tCT Life is a fountain fed by a thous
and streams, lhat perish if one be dried.
It is a silver cord twisted with a thousand
strings that part assundcr if one is broken.
Thoughtless mortals are surrounded by
inumerable dangers which make it more
strange that they must all perish suddenly
We are encompassed with accidents
every day to crush the decaying tenements
we inhabit. The1 seeds of disease are
planted in our constitutions ' by nature.
The earth and atmosphere whence we
draw tho breath of life, are impregnated
wiih death ; health is made to operate its
own destruction. Death lurks in am
bush along the paths. Notwithstanding
ihis truth is so palpably confirmed by the
daily examples before our eyes, how lit
tle do we lay it to heart. Ve see our
friends and neighbors die, but how seldom
does it oocur to our thoughts that our
knell may give the next warqmg to the
CAN WlKlEJf KESP.A.EEC2ET.
OR nOW MR. PODKINS 00T UIS COAT MENDED.
Pshaw ! a woman keep a secret? Who
even knew one to keep anything twenty
four hours ?'.
'That's a libel upon the sex, Mr, Tod
kins invented, Til be bound, by some
thrice rejected batchelor, who could think
of no other mode of revenge. Let any
body put a secret in my possession, and
if I can't keep it till the day of judgement
then I wasn't christened Laura, that's all.'
'Guess I'll try you sometime,' and Pod
kins applied a match to his segar and
Proceeding to a confectioner's he pur
chased a mammoth sugar heart and two
smaller ones. This he took lo his shop,
and cut a piece of shingle the exact size
of the larger heart, and placed the wood
en counterfeit in a paper with the small
ones, that the packages might look as
near alike as possible. ,
Nearly tea time Podkins entered the
sitting room where Laura and her friend
Mary were busy plying their needles.
Seating himself near by, he drew from
his coat pocket two small bundles, and
presenting one lo each of the gills, remar
ked that he had contemplated making
them some presents, but hoped as an es
pecial favor to himself that they would
not tell each oilier what the paper con
tained. Laura and Mary promised obe
,. .. , . ... . - .:'"--
dionoo, atilie enme ttme tasting tineasy
glances at the mysterious gifts.
'Remember the first who breaks her
promise will forfeit her claim to the title
of seciet-keeper, and mend my coat by
way ot a penally, added rodkins, using
to exhibit more fully a most sorrowful
looking garment so 'tattered and torn,'
that a tailor would have been puzzled to
decide what was its original shape.
The girls considcted themselves safe
concerning the coat, and chided the wear
er for being so sceptical in regard to their
ability to keep a secret. Curiosity was
only half satisfied, however, after ascer
taining lhat Podkins' generosity had bes
towed a heart. It was not long ere the
donor overheard Mary aud Laura in the
kitchen, teasing one another to reveal by
sign, at least, the forbidden fruit.
But each stood her ground wonderfully
and Podkins feared his coat would remain
tatteied. The girl's sleeping apartment
was contiguous to the one occupied by
Podkins and his friend Barlow.
As only a thin partition separated the
rooms, it was easy to hear ordinary con
versation from one to the other without
the folly of listening. The two men were
snugly ensconced in bed, when Mary
and Laura entered the adjoining bed-room
The door had scarcely been closed when
the former exclaimed.
Now, Laura, do tell me what was in
your paper, it looked just Iitce mine,
and I verily believe it is the same thing.
I shall not sleep a wink to-night if you
don't. Come, do tell, that's a good girl,
and then I will tell you what was in
'Well,' replied Laura, Hhero were two
sugar hearts in mine.'
'And there was only one in mine,' said
Mary, in a disappointed tone.
At this point a respectable portion of
the bolster went into Barlow's mouth
while Podkins took refuge beneath the
bedclothes, to smother his laughter as
besl he might.
At breakfast the next morning, while
Laura was pouring out the coffee, Pod
kins, turning toward Barlow, said very
there were two sugar hearts in
And there w-.s only one in mine,' res
ponded Barlow, so exactly imitating
Mary's tone that she fancied herself speaking.-
The coffee pot dropped to great con
fusion of sundry cups and saucers, and
then crme a burst of laughter from the
four that fairly made the dishes dance.
'1 will take that coat after breakfast, if
you please, Mr Podkins, said Laura,
quietly, after the mirth had somewhat
subsided. .... .
' Goino off well. A person who had
been listening to a very dull address, re
marked that everything went off well, es
' n rec'My Ihe audience . '
VOLUME L-NUMBEU. 48,
. ,' J; .V " , '': From the Olive SmncU;. -" -.
" ' THE WHITE iCSE-TNpi v Vv. .
Beautiful was it in its nnsullicd fresh
ness, as il was borne to the youDg bride; .
and beautiful was she in her devoted af.
fection, as she spoke those words which
are ever, like the spell of the sybilf -
"Franght 'itri good, or fraught with ill, '
Doomed to heal, or doomed to kill." ' '
Child as I then wa-, I looked up with
mule remorse to the fair face so lull ot
eloquent meaning. It seemed so strange
to see a shade "upon the brow of our glad;
hearted Oralinc, that it haunted my mem
ory long after il had passed away. I did
not then know that deep' feeling is ever
serious, whether it be of joy or sadness;
and a bridal had always .seemed to mv
young imagination' a place for smiles and
So seemeih it to many a young dream
er, who hath not yet lead from the dark
er records of life, auglit to dim these vis
ions. ' The bridal array, ihe congratula
tion of friends, the new home with its
tasteful decorations, - (la!i'd my young
mind as they have dazzled many an older .
one, and my awakening like theirs was
amid the gloom..iVAid the gloom, yet
not of mine owrlVrtVilcsoIation ; the'
sh adow had fallen ytynfctvvcr that young
bride, for the heaWrustingly given,,
had been given to vftst-Vriworlhy.
There are recess's" in the human heart,
the most cherished may-never-ntcr ;
there are records there, the most reckless
dare not copy. We may enter home in
the dark hours of suffering, when pain is
racking the form which sickness hath laid
low ; or when worldly wealth hath de
parted, we may whisper of better wealth
still left. We may stand by the 6tricken ;
one, over the corpse of earth's best belov
ed, and still, even there, may our love
and our sympathy avail; but when es
trangement has drawn its dark curtain
around the heart, and ihe spirit hath sat
down in its loveliness to weep over the
blighted flowers thatonce blossomed there, '
it is then the part oflove to stand afar off,
and watch and pray for the sufferer whom
our gentlest sympathy may not relieve.
Sacred be the veil that hangs over the
heart's deepest recesses ! Not for the
stranger's eye were ihe sorrows of lhat
youthful bride, as the suffering wife, the
strong-hearted mother, the patient Chris
tian. We inay not tell how hope strug
gled vainly against every doubt, until -
reality brought conviction to an unwilling
mind ; how love bore all, and forgive all,
until though "strong as death," yet not 1
so strong as duty, it departed from the un
worthy one, to seek refugo for its broken -wing
where gentleness gave glad wel
come. . ;
Again was that form arrayed in snowy
white, and again those tresses braided '
for a bridal. Again came cherishing
friends to look on her young beauty, and
again they saw the light shadow resting :
over her high brow. They saw it now
without sorrow, for it was the shadow of
her bridegroom's smile. So they gath
ered the white roses again, but this time
they chose the full-blown flower, for its
emblem was now the more fitting one. ,
Many were gathered at that bridal, and
ihey marvelled much. They saw that
the bridegroom's face was dark and stern,
and they saw that she smiled not, but
was pale and still in his cold embrace. .
Yet her friends looked calmly on, and .
they wept not now, nor trembled for her .
happiness, as on that first bridal day - for :,
ihey gave her now to one that deceiveth ,
never. So they gave her calmly to thai
stern bridegroom, for they knew that only
with him could their stricken dove find
rest. '".,'. '(
And not so sad as that first bridal gath
ering, was this ; though the shadow alii
lingered over tnat lovely face, yet now, t (
was softened by a look of holy trust, fo r
the name of her dark bridegroom was
Death, and they knew that she loved
him, as the messenger of God, , : 1 1()
' Idr Coleman the dramatist, was asked
if he knew Theodore Hook., 'Yes,' re "
plied the wit, 'Hook and Eye are oldasso- s
ciatcs.' -! ' ' ' ' "'" ' ;. '
, C7 Never contradict t man who slut j
ters, it only makes matters worse, , , .