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AlllKSE, : 01
1 1 . .
,t Church, of hio;
llli ','Jw4-Ba4ted with
it ' . throueliout S:f'
. t CulumbilS DRDera are not
, Voceedings of the legislature b formeJpJ'nj'jAfQ
tttvcatUe xcyiBiaiurpand the proprBw
The Angela in the House.
till V' Thrf Pair ( 'ilnpld rm,M vliitcat tnow
i,i :: . I Held me in aoft embrace: 1 -
; Three little chetkn, like velvet peacheoft, .
. -y-.Vfen placed againatmy face.
Three tiny pair of pj en, no clear, so deep,
; Looked up in mine this e'n ' v
" Three pairs of lips kiw'd me a a'weut good night
: ; Three little form from Heaven!
, Ah, it is well that 'little one' should love un;
. ; , It ilghta our faith when diir, ihem
Toknowilint once our blcss'd Saviour lade
. Bring 'little ones' tohtui ! ;
Andanidffe not 'Of such UHeavesi' ar.dUessed
. . ' them,
f". Aiid held ihem to Hia brewtt
' In it uot weet to know that when they leave us
:" ' 'Ti there they go to rest?
And yet, ye tiny angula of my hotme, . .
.'I'-,'' ' 'Three hearts encatid in mine I
' How 'twould be shattered, if the Lord should
: ':'"' ; "" ' .'.
: ) 'Those angels are not thine 1
v' . ,' ' ; ' From tin Ladie., Visitor.
" V COUSIN BEN. :
BY MIRIAM r. HAMILTON,
"Visitors !" exclaimed Kate Bonnet,
impatiently, as she laid psido the book she
, had beeu reading, and in which she had
ben deeply interested, and took the cards
' which tlie servant presented.
'.. "Dear mej how provoxingl Just as I
r am in the most exciting part of the story
, and that pert, disagreeabla Emily Arch.
' cr, too she added, reading one of. the
' cards who else, I wonder !" ; .
Was there magic in that simple bit of
puste-board, inscribed only with the two
words, "Richard Warren 1" It would al
most seem so, so instantaneously did her
, countenance change. The frown that had
disfigured her beautiful brow, disappeared,
her eyes sparkled, and without another
r thought of the book, she hastily assured
herself, by a glance in the mirror, that her
.toilet was unexceptionable, and left the
: room. . . n-';. ;
As she entered the drawing-room, and
-greeted her guests with all that grace and
. elegance1 of manner for which she was dis
tinguished, Emily Archer surveyed, her
t with one rapid, critical glance; but dress,
as well as manner, was faultless. '.-
"It musf be confessed that Kate Bennet
enters a room like a queen," she thought,
"with a pang of envy and jealousy, as in
Richard Warren's face she read undisguised
admiration of the lovely girl before them
v 'What casual observer, who had marked
the meeting of these young ladies, would
have dreamed that, under all their outward
' friendliness, each hated the other with her
;whole heartl (v-..j.' ".. .:.'"'
VjYet so it was. . Kate ond Emily were rl
val belles, and their claims to admiration
were so equally balanced that it required
'. no little exertion on either side to gain the
ascendancy and be acknowledged the victor
: If Kate, with her classical features
qoeenly dignity, elegant figure, ind exqui
site taste, at first Bight threw herrival into
' the shade, Emily's piquant style, sparkling
animated countenance, and sprightly con
'venation, were by many preferred to Kate's
statesque beauty. It was Impossible to
, 'decide which was the loveliest J each had
iter adherents . and admirers, but as they
were equally numerous,, it seemed probable
: . ,that the season would draw to a close with
eut the all-important decision of the que,
; tionr which had been, par excellence, the
"belle. ' :-: ' '?':r
.. . Jast at this time, Richard Warren re
V.; 'turned from Europe.:' The arrival of so u'n
Meni'abjy elegant, handsome and wealthy a
. gentleman was an event all the fashiona
'. '-ble. world was in a flutter, and the rivals
. saw at once that the . important epoch had
"' inrrived" She whose claim he advocated
' 'whom he favored . with his admiration
; - 'would at once stand upon the precarious
pinnacle of bell-ship. Each left, nothing
, ,' ' undone to win him to her side, though thoi
' tsictlcs were entirely diflcrent.
.' Emily brought to bear upon him the bat
teries of her -sprightly wit, while Kate
: ; -' adroitly laid the mine ot apparent queeniy
" indifference. As yet, though it was evi
oent that Richard admired both, his pret:
' .'ercaco was not known perhaps he hardly
knew himself which he thought the most
, (charming. -;-;:
m Cut during this exposition of the claims
: cf :hd rivtli, k lively coavcrsatioa had fcn
r going on. The lust new novel and the ope
'. . .rjT'si,-., (SrSTrsx x-v..-i;.- s.X, r iS- .SJAS--. jSPiSfe SWbsfea.; . ' . -
i,. j . - : . 1 - - " i -- . : . ,,
u . - ' ' ' " '. " ' 1,1 r . ... ' i iBi im
Ms5fts,4 been Jdiseusse'das well as 'son(.ef
their mutual friends, and in the midst of
some wickedly witty remarks of Emily on
a would-be fashionable lady, a loud voice
was heard in the hall. It came nearer the
door, and the words could be distinctly un
derstood. ' ';.'. : "
"You no-brained, impudent jacknapes,
II teach you manners. I'll make you
augh out of the other side of your mouth 1M
The door was flung open, and in walked
a tall, athletic and sunburned young man,
whose really fine form was disguised in an
ll-fitting suitof evidently domestic manu
facture, and who stood for a moment awk
wardly looking around him; then, hastily
approaching Kate, he flung his arms around
her, and gave her a loud smack upon the
She withdrew herself, quickly and haugh
tily, from his embrace. '
"Sir I" she said, with freezing dignity.
"Law! don't ye know who I be!" ex
claimed the new comer, in no wise discon
certed; 'Wall,'' now1 do actually b'lieve
you've ibrgotme. Don't ye know yer cous
in Bon! Ye see, I don't like firm in' no
hecw you can fix it, so I quitthat, and come
to the city. Joo Simpson was deown to
our place, and he's doin'. fust rate here.
lie said 'twas dreadlul hard work to get! a
start in the city, but I guess I ain't a go in'
to slump through where he gets ahead. I'll
resk it, anyhow." ' -v:i ; v
At the : commencement of this speech,
Catharine had alternately flushed and paled
for she was deeply mortified that Richard
Warren and Emily Archer should havebeen
the witnesses of such a scene. She caught
a triumphant and scornful glance from Em
ily. : It restored all her pride.
With all the grace of which bIio was
mistress, she turned to the new comer,
"You must excuse me, cousin Ben," she
said, "that I bad forgotten you, A few
years make great changes, and I can hardly
retrace in your countenances feature that
reminds me oi the lad who went nutting
with me In the dear old woods of Hampton.
Allow me, Miss Archer," she added, turning
to her, "to present to you my cousin, Mr.
Adams;" and with perfect composure she
saw his awkward bow and scrape.
Emily Archcratonce mischievously com
menccd a conversation with Mr, Adams,
and was proceeding to draw him out
most ludicrously, when Kate came to the
rescue. ' .
"You forget,' Miss Archer," she said,
"that my cousin has but just arrived in town
and has not as yet had any opportunity to
see the lions. He will be better able to
give you his opinion of them in a few days,
when 1 shall have had,the pleasure of act
ing as his cicerone."
Mr; Warren, like a well bred gentleman
as he was, addressed some remarks to Mr.
Adams on subjects with which he was fa
miliar, and shortly after he, with Miss'Ar
cher, took, leave." Kate could have cried
with vexation, as she thought of the sar
castic and ludicrous description of the scene
which Emily would delight in giving, but
she controlled Merself. She was 'a kind-
hearted girl, and could not forget the pleas
ant visits she had paid to her dear uncle
and aunt Adams, or Ben's untiring efforts
to make her happy when at his father's
house, v She resolved to repay him now,
and her graciousness of manner quite fas
cinated poor Ben, as she made all sorts Qf
inquiries about the old farm,
- No sooner had Richard Warron, with
Miss Archer, left the house, than she began
with all her powers of sarcasm, as Kate had
foreseen, to ridicule the scene they had wit
nessed. Mr. Warren smiled, but seemed
absent. ',.; 'V. : v.f ', -'u
'I had no idea the Bennetts had such
vulgar relations," continued Emily, well
knowing that the fastidious Richard War
ren wonld consider this a serious objection
in the woman of bis choice.
."Notwithstanding all Kate's elegance
there is a certain something about the fam
Ily that betrays low blood.'' ' -
"Yes," returned Wurren, hardly know
ing what he said; and, feeling that she had
gained one good pointEmily walked on, in
the best possible spirits, internally triumph
ing over the discomfiture of her rival.
Tbat evening at the opera, who should
be at Kate's side but cousin Ben, dressed
In excellent tasteand evidently much in
terested in the performace, while Miss
Bennett listoned with polite attention, to bis
frank and sensible criticisms, '.' At parties,
too, he was her attendant and .this open
acknowlerfgmentofhep relation quits hlunt
?d the point cf E.n!!y wtUxs, Mr, Ben,
net assisted the yonth to a situation, and
very speedily hia niHticity wore off, He
had both (rood looks and food sense, and
very soon did her no discredit, even among
the crowd of fine gentlemen who surround
ed her '.:''','' ;.;-:'v . "
Emily Archer saw all, and bit her lip in
vexation. . She could not but acknowledge
the superiority of Kate's strategy, and
that she had triumphed in tho event which
she had hoped would humiliate her. ;
From that time Richard Warren washer
constant attendant, and ere long he had
openly acknowledged his preference by of
fering her his heart and hand.
"My dear Knte," he said, shortly after
their betrothal, "I shall never cease to
thank cousin Ben for giving me my bride.
1 admired you as a belle, but his comingH
and your reception of him proved that you.
were something better than a mere fine lady
that you were a true woman, blest with
the greatest of all attractions a heart.
Confess, dearest, that you owe him a debt
of gratitude, also that you are as happy
as I am." '".:.''"' ;".' v.''
Koto smiled one of her most bewitching
smiles. '--' '''; ?''. . ' ""''? "' ; '
"I certainly do not look upon his mal
apropos arrival as a misfortune at pres
ent," she Baid, "whatever 1 may do in the
future." ;;-:! ;.;::';;:
Her glance of loving etnfidenco contra"
dieted her last mischievous words, and ato
iiBienru wiin uowncasi eyes ana oiupnwg
cheeks to the assurance of her lovertfiat no
exertions of his should be wontin
n to Keep
her from regretting the evenjwhich had
given him a glimpse of her heart.
Many years bad passed. n the sober
matron, Mrs. Warren, one would hardly
have recognized the dashing belle. Kate
Bennct. ' '..
Blest with wealth, a cheerful
fond husband, and lovely childrenjslio had
led a happy life, and time bad but increased
tne attachment or the weuUedjmir, Jiut
cloudless as her life had beeiuAstorm was
gathering. Her husband, always cheerful,
grew moody, restless and Unhappy.. She
trie' in vain to discover tiie cause of his
gloom, but he made only evasive rftpjjes to
her inquiries, and she could only guesa at
his troubles; that they were connected wih
his business, she imagined, and her surmftiful Clemence de Crespy, and the popula-
sea were correct. . '.
He entered the room where she was sit.
ting, one day, and exclaimed flinging his
hatori s'icfas-r- .:'
Kate we are rufued. In vain I have
struggled for weeks past; it is useless to
attempt it longer. To-day I shall be known
as a bankrupt penniless, and worse than
penniless, In trying to double my fortune,
1 have lost all. . You and my children are
beggars. ...' ' ...... .,; ,..";; .
i "Why should loss of wealth trouble you,
dear Richard1"said his wife, tenderly, ap
proaching and taking his hand. "That is,
after all, but a triflng misfortune While
we are spared to each other, blest with
health and good children, why. should we
repine at the mere loss of fortune!"
', The husband groaned, .
"Ah, to bo dishonored Kate I" he said;
"to fear to look men in the face, because I
am a bankrupt unable to pay my honest
debts. Kate the very idea of this drives
me nearly mad. To avoid this, what have
I not done! I have passed sleepless uights
and anxious days, but in vain."
, With fond caresses and soothing words,
bis wifo strove to comfort him; but alas,
he paid little heed to her efforts.
Just then a servant entered, saying that
n gentleman wished to see Mr. Warren.
.. "Tell him I cannot," replied bis master;
I will see nobody,'
; "But you will," replied a cheerful voice,
and a gentleman who had closely followed
the servant, entered.
"How is this, my doar Dickl" he . said;
"you are in trouble, and did not apply to
me. That was not right."
- "And cf what use would it have beonl"
returned Warren. '; "I am weary of borrow
ing from one friend to repay the other, day
after day Even that has failed me at last
and I have come home to hide myself from
the prying gaze of those who will too soon
be talking of my disgrace."
"I had heard rumors of this, Dick, and
V'ent to your office to see you; as you were
not there, I followed-you here." Now my
dear Fellow, listen to me; you have two
hours yet before bank , hours are over.
Here is a blank check; fill it up yourself,
and it shall be duly honored. Repay it at
your convenience. No thanks; itisonlya
loan, I know your business well, and that
in a little time, with perhaps a little assist-!
ance, all will be right ngain." " , A
m . H t i , j I 1 I
gr&sphls fricnri'i! hnmi. uhiiehisoyesfll
with-an tinwoHl ''.
"ilow can w jr kiiuiiK ' yoi
can we repay ?
2 Jiate.'. .
"Tut, tut Katie; I am only discharging
a part of a debt 1 owe. you,' my dear girl.
I owe all I possess all 1 am to you.
When I first came here, a raw, ignorant,
awkward country hooby, you were not
ashamed of me, and more than all, by un
varying kindness, offering me s home and
innocent amusements in your society, kept
mo out of many temptations that beset a
lonely, inexperienced lad, such as, without
you, 1 should have been. I thanked you
for it then, even when I did not appreciate
the sacrifice it was to a fine lady, to have a
pumpkin like myself about her; and when
1 knew more of the world, and understood
the rarity of such conduct, I loved you the
better for it, aUbeortefulI
have had no opportunity to show it before
in any substantial form, But now you see
you are under noobligation; I arii only get
ting rid of Ji little of the heavy load you
placed meander long ago. Be off with you
Dick; hereafter rely on me in all cases like
the present. Don't get discouraged ton
easily4-business men, of all others, should
have elastic temperaments. Good-bye
mwvv' he added, as Warren disappeared,
kssing the tears from K ate's cheeks," and
be assured that Ben Adams, the millionaire,
has never forgotten, and will try to repay
your kindness to your poor awkward cous
"1 am richly repaid," she murmured.
How little I dreamed,- long ogo, that
twice in my life I should owe my highest
happiness to tho trifling acts of kindness
towarcsTiiy good corsin Ben." . -
THE BRIDE'S CHEST.
LEGEND OF THE FRENCH PROVINCE
:valois, in I668,
It was a (cast day at the castle of Xain
tinuR, a feudnl manor, which then con
tained the best' part of the Valois nobili
ty; all the noblemen and Indies or high
lineage were assembled to be present at
the wedding of an . illustrious lord. He
was about to unite himself to the bcauli-
hon of the surrounding village was cele-
bribing that great event by their songs
and pjays. ' ' " '
' Clemence was lively and gay to mad
ness, yei she knew how to make one for
give her levity and vivacity, by her kind
ness, her tnildness and her benevolence.
How often lh ad she carried under the
thatched roofMier welcome donations.
How many families said that their tears
were dried up oyalKrhaad-of "Clemence
and their fortunes relieved by her unexJ
pected assistance. ' So the good wishes
of this grateful 'population, their shouts
of love and respect Were notwantiug on
this occasion for the young heiress of the
Counts de Crespy. "Y : ''' .
' 'Make room ! make room !' ihouted a
doaen retainers, Met the gale be opened.'
There is a heavy carriage advancing,
drawn by three horses. The bride's pres.
ents it is bringing to the castle of Xain
tines. How the imagination of the assis
tants is excited ; how many calculations
are made upon ' the value of these prea
ents, but more particularly' upon' those
contained in s large oak chest upon which
is the coat of arms of the house of 1 de
Crespy. Two "men are hardly able to
lift it, it must contain the jewels, precious
dressesall the rich treasures of Clemen-
ce's toilette. They are' soon' to come out
of it for the ceremony is progressing.-
The priest is already waiting fur the be
trothed ones in the chapel of the castle,
the walls of which are ornamented with
gailands or flowers.- : ; r n
The chest has been carried to Clem
ence's apartment and the tire woman
who were dressing her admired at the
riches unread before them. . ' ; -
who were innted, and all eyes were
watching forjthe heiress "brido.
'Out upoT the old chest I' exclaimed
Clemencejii a tone of pettishness which
made heF mother smile, Out upon thee
much time thou has made me ose.'
At length hei maids having given the last
touon to her toilet, she went accompanied
M her mother to join the lord of Xain
lAairies, who was beginning to feel uneasy
at so long a delay. 'It was (he old.chest
said she 'which has kept me so long away.
.' ' J ; " '
Oh 1 but' there was so many fine . things
iait!'-':. 'i . r.'.si?z r..,4.ri.iv
v The baron seeing Cleruenee pos rishly
JANUARY 23. 1856.
dressed, did not make her wait for his
pardon.:' . . , ".'.';
The cetemony so long delayed had at
last taken place ; the chapel was again
deserted, and there remained in the cas
tie hut the nearest relatives of the wedded
pair. The villagers had returned to their
cottages ; the nobility had taken the roads
leading to their castles. Still the hour
was not yet come when the Baron and
th bride might retire, and they were
obliged by the laws of civility to pay
some attention to their guests. (
The ruin which was falling precluded
,ronil!nBdig in lhe park( aHtl ,0 rclieve
of lhe e,cnillir. clemence
pr p ise.i to her young menus a play
which wan to have more charms for ihem
than cards; such sports were pleasing
to herlvely disposition, they called back
to her iliehappy days of her infancy ;
"Hide aiiQkSoek !" echoed all the young
ones who were beginning . to find the
evening rather, dull, and all of them rush
ed by different ways to find, in the nu
merous apurimentVof the castle, obscure
retreats where theV could escape the
search of the Baron (leXainiaines, whom
chance had appointed tosfrsk for ihemr
Clemence was not the last lobe gone, and
she disappeared up the castle Vjair, ;
'Clemence ! C'cmence J' shdjjled by
relations and retainers, came wtydly from
the diflcrent part of the castfe, and lights
were hurrying to and fro through all the
underwoods of the, park. Itwas pain to
see tne loru oi Aaintame. yv nai whs be
come of Clemence? Whete could she
have concealed herself, nopne could im
Vainly was the description ol the Bar
oness sent into all the surrounding villa
ges, and all the researches wer unavail
ing to discover her. The pftef of the
Baron was hopeless, andjinable to bear
the sight of a place which unceasingly
reminded him of hisjqss, he abandoned
the castle with all Jiis retainers, and left
as at the hourjof the wedding, all the
wealth it. contained. For many days it
was feared that the Baron would become
insane, yet he kept his faculties and con-
i u...:l I r i.:. .i rii.
(iiiucu iu ucn uii hid iuan ui ma ucrtr vaciu-
Yielding to the
ng to the entreaties or lus friends
ho consented after , the lapse of a month
to revisit the castle. The first thing
which caught his eye in the apartment of
Clemence was the chest which contained
her magnificent trousseau, and portions
of female apparel lay scattered around.
The sight nearly broke his heart, but
mastering his feelings, he bent himself
towards the chest to open it with a trem
bling hand. '
.Now there was a spring to the chest
shutting it at the exterior; he pressed
his finger upon it, and raising the lid what
did he behold! The corpse of his lost
Clemence, dressed, ornamented, as on
her wedding day. He stepped back with
horror ; then, through a convulsive move
ment, sprang forward to the chest, and
fell expiring upon the corpse of his wife'.
When-his servants came into the room
he had ceased to exist. . 1
It was supposed the unfortunate Clem
ence had concealed herself in the chest
and that the lid had fallen over her. She
had perished, unable to make her cries
heard,, and the .springs had resisted the
efforts of her strength. In thatchestwere
confined the Baron and his bride, and they
were buried in their wedding garments,
under a tree which was yet to be seen in
the church-yard of Crespy in the last cen
tury. . ;, , ;'.'" .. -.;'
'"With the Baron de Xaiutaines was ex
tinguished an illustrious family, the glo
rious titles of which dated from the second
crusadeagainst the infidels.:
;',., -. . - ' U , linn
Dpmas. and General B. were dining
some daysBgo at the house of a
friend. 1 fie conversation trrned upon
the existences a God. - 0h," said the
General,-4'! never think about that, one
way or the otherV "General," replied
Dumas," I have twcUtag hounds at home
who share your sentiment exactly -.they
never think of it either1,
, , irpHome-sickness is one oitv.e main
predisposing causes of sickness
the allied troops in the Crimea,
- . ' ' '- "
' BV CORNELIA M. DOWLINO. ' :
'Mamma, mamma, do speak to me !'
and the little white arms were thrown
convulsively about the form so still and
motionless; and the large eyes gazed in
frightened wbnder upon the f-ice that Uy
upon the pillow. .-',
But the lips, upon which the child's
were pressed so earnestly, were cold and
white, and for the fir.-t time refused to re
turn the pressure; mid the bauds that had
so often been placed upon her brow, or
passed through her bright hair caressing
ly, wcie folded upon the bosom; for the
heart was stiff, and the voioe was silent;
and tho child listened in Vain for a single
word Irom, the lips that were chilled for
ever. : ':'.'' '
Poor little Grace 1 How should she
know that death had stolen from her the
sunshine of her life? "That the mother,
upon whose breast she had nestled who
had listened patiently to all her child's
griefs who had guarded her so carefully
from the slighest breath of sorrow, had
pressed her darling to her bosom for ' the
last time, and had passed away from earth
leaving her lonely desolate inother-
ess. - - :. -. ; ' '
Aye ! motherless, little Grace moth
erless ! r Pass thy hands softly over the
white brow and the sunken cheek; smooth
once again the brown hair that has so of
ten drooped abave thins own; ntle clos
er to the breast upon which thy velvet
cheek hath been so often pillowed; for
on the morrow they will bear her from
thee; and thou wilt steal softly into thy
mother's room, but the pillow upon which
her head is now resting will be vacant;
nd the form which thou art clasping
cold, lifeless it is true, but still thy moth
er's will be miaaing gone.
Aye! twine thy dimpled hands about
her neck and sob upon her bosom; for
the lime may come when thou wilt vain
ly yearn to rest thy head upon a mother's
breast and weep.
Poor little Grace ! God help thee ! '
'It is late, Grace; you may go to your
room,' said a tall, stern looking man, en
tering the apartment and approaching the
bed upon which his child lay.
The little one, with a stat tied air, look
ed quickly up into her father's face, shiv
ering as she met the glance he cast upon
her; fsr it was filled with egbny, stern
and cold as it was; then, wjm a lingering
look at the white face upon the pillow,
the child slid down from the bed and gli
ded softly from the apartment v ' "'
Hour after hour rolled away, and still
that proud man stood by the bedside of
his wife. ' Memory carried him baok to
the time when she, in the Iresh loveliness
of her girlhood, had stood by his side at
the Bilar, and listened to his vow, 'to love
and to cherish her till death should part
them.' Death had parted theni now;
and how had that vow been fulfilled? Oh!
how bitterly the recollections came throng
ing back.upon him of the coldness, the
neglect, with which he had repaid the
love of the gentle heart that lay before
him now so cold and still. How equld
she, with her wild wealth of teuderness,
have found sympathy and happiness in
the companionionship of a nature so
proudso cold and stern! .
. Poor little Grace I she had little left,
now that her mother was gone.
Weeks rolled, on, and the summer
flowers began to wave their pretty heads
above the grave in the old churchyard;
and day after day, Jra:e, "shunning all
companionship, would glide away aloag
the pathway which her own little feet
had worn, and sitting down among the
long grass ahe would count the violets
and the woodroses that had blossomed
since the day before, and wonder if there,
were flowers in heVou; for, she would
whisperto herself, softly, 'rrmmma loved
flowers,,' ' , '
And night after night she would sit by
the window of her little room, in her
white night dress, looking like a spirit in
the pale moon-light, and watched the stars
and remembered how often she had stood
r,y tU si.lfl of her mother aud gazed up
t lhnm. while the voice that was silent
now had told her that "God had rnado
VOLUME 2. NUMBER 3,
them..' Ah! she must watch them; alone,
now. - : ;'-, .,-,' '.:'' '": .-
Poor little Grace? ;, '"
Still time rolled on, and each night the
little face that looked out of the window
would be a shade paler and thinner than.
on the night before, And the ttny veins
began to. crois themselves upon the tem
ples, and. the eyes to grow larger and -
brighter as though from looking at the Kara
so much, they had grown like them.
And the autumn came; and the flowers,
drooped and began to die; and ofte i little
human blossom be?an also to wither.
And . bye-andbye the winter flung its .
flowers were dead, Yet still tho star
were shining. .
joui me iiny iujri in , na , wimo uuq
was m'tss'itiir from the window, and unar
a lillle head stone in the old church-vard.
a single word hud been engraved:
'Grace.' . ' . '. '' :' 7 v
A few weeks ago, we wero tho wilntii ,
nf n nartinir eruani nKinVi innnliprf n nsfatu I
king a ws iiv v? vvhwwi w w -
ly. It was between two who were newly
wedded, who since the sweet day of their
nuptials, hud not been parted for a day,
hardly for an hour. Nothing short of
.das, ni n.e.iiti n,it1 tiaivA ...lllofl ifiA tvna
uaiiu iiuui mo miuu uuwr uui tne uewe
i , t , ... .i :
sity came between them, and he must not
shrink. We saw the long snd wild em
brace, heard the goer whisper, 'Be of ;
r-pooor cneer iwiu oeai nomeoon
and in a lew moments more the billows
rolled between the hearts that so lately
God had joined together.' ' .. v ' .
I will be at home soon.' These wers
the words the only consolation left, amid .
so much bitterness. Perhaps the pangs
of parting were sharpened by the vague
presentiment that they might never meet
again; Ana so sue lurnea irom tne tpoi.
, A t ti -1
that sad young w'ffe, and went back to the
hnm trtinan lifflif bail ApnzrieA " , , ' '
....... ..b... r,.
'I will be home soon.' Aud so he
was; home before ho was expected"
nome ere yet tne tears were uneu iron. .
the eyes of the weeper whom be left be-
iiiuu. uui, aias: now uiu no cuiiic i
Encompassed, by 'a shroud, embraced '
within a cofBn, (old as the perpetual snow
that crowns the mountain monarch of
Switzerland, ' Sure enough he was homo
toon. ...-- ;'.-. '''' ':'
.' ni ' a " t " ''."
ineyuugDut pne grave, men put,
slnoe another was demanded wand now,
tne young wile and husband sleep ana
dream together, . : - ; . , . ; .:.
We shall all 'be at home loon.' What
that home will be vests with ns. . :
The deeds of virtue will secure a
nassnort to the irolden calaces the enor.
mities of vioe will end in worse than dun.
geon uaraness. ... ::
'Home soon.' ' Sa he was and having
wailed hut a little while, she went home
also ! Buffalo Exprtu. ; .. .
Between ihb Two, Neither high
nor bumble was spaed by Sheridan's ef
fervescent wit. Meeting the Prince of
Wnlna and th Ttnl-A nf Ynrlt Ann dav 111
Rl. Jumna Sirppt. g hn W lpavin(T ilia
Sherry," said the Duke, in his usual
jocose manner, "We have just been dis
cussing whether you are a rogue ' or a,
. "I am between both, your Royal High
nets," replied Sheridan, placing himself
between the two royal brothers. And
such a laugh 1 Sheridan was a wsg cf
the first water. It was next to impossi
ble to be offended with him. lie was of
ten s guest at the royal table hence his
familiarity as above.
1 ' 1,1
"Saxbo, ean you tell me what differ
enoedere am between a Northern and a
"No, Bones, can you?"
Yes, I cau. Why, you tee as haw,
the Northern man blacks his own boois,
and the Southern man boots his own
Gfano The Fredericksburg; Vir.
ginia, Herald says that 1300,000 worth
of guano 'is consumed in tha district
,.: , r , .... - -I .. .
msrkipt. The whrat sales, it sava. a.
monted to eS'J3,CG0. frota which it
pears that t!;e cc;t pf 'i'no th pr";
season has been neariy . oae-iiiui ti l. i