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V ' ' 1 : . w,.,.- FIVE CENTS.'"' " ' H t) k It INT F1!fnH nnd DwAnniAtAH i. iiiiwnii, uuui auuiiupiicLui, ,.; - , it CITY OEDIKAKCES. published by authority. AN ORDINANCE to secure the City of Steubenville against Are. Sec. 1. Be it ordained by the City Council ofthe City of Steubenville, That it shall not be lawful for any person or persons to boil oil or varnish in this city, within twenty feet of any building, and in all cases the boiler must be placed in a fur nace, and previous to its being used, the owner or occupant must receive from the firewardens of the ward in which the fur nace is placed, a certificate of safety from danger of communicating fire ; and any person offending against the provisions of this section 6hall be liable tor all damages and be fined in any sum not exceeding fif ty dollars, with costs, on conviction there of before the mayor. Sec. 2. That no person 01 persons, being the occupant or having the caro or control of any store, dwelling house, ware house, cellar, or other building, or any part thereof, or any other person shall keep, place, or permit to be kept or placed in any such store, dwelling house, warehouse, cellar, or other building, any ashes or other article trom which fire may originate, unless the same be placed inan iron.earthen, etono, or other incombustible vessel, nor shall any person suffer 'any shavings or other combustible materials to be placed or to accumulate in or about his shop, store, or on his premises, but he or they shall cause the same to be removed to some place of safety as soon as they are thrown out of the same, whenever directed by the city marshal, and any person offend ing against the provisions of this section, shall be fined, on conviction before the mayor, in any sum not exceeding twenty dollars, with costs of prosecution. Seo. 8. That it shall be unlawful for any person or persons to place or keep any hay, straw or fodder, in sheaf stack, or pile, within one hundred feet of any build ing within said city, except it be in a stable, barn or warehouse nor in any dwelling house whatsoever, where fire is used for and any purpose ; any person of fending against any of the provisions of this section, shall on conviction thereof before the mayor, be fined in any sum not exceeding fifty dollars, with costs of suit. Sec. 4. If any person after sunset, shall set fire to or burn any chips, shavings, or other combustible materials, on any street or alley, or on any lot near to a building, or shall permit any such fire to continue to burn after sunset, he or she shall be liable to a fins not exceeding fifty dollars, and not less than one dollar, ou conviction thereof before the mayor. Sec. 5. If any person shall take, or cause to be taken, into any barn, stable or hay loft, any torch, lighted candle or lamp, not enclosed in a good and sufficient lan terns, he or she, on conviction thereof, shall bo liable to a fine, for every such of fence, of not less than five and not exceed ing fifty dollars. Sec. 6. That it shall be the duty ofthe fire wardens and the marshal, when proper information is given to any one or more of them, of any offence against any preceding part of this ordinance, to lodge complaint before the mayor tor prosecution, Sec. 7. The city Council shall annual ly, on the second Monday in March, or as soon thereafter as may oe convenient, ap point one fire warden within each of the wards of the city; and the fire wardens ap pointed lor the first and second wards act ing together, and those of the third and fourth wards acting in like manner, shall semi-annually, in the months of June and November, and at such other times as they may think necessary, visit every dwelling house, store-house, shop and factory in the city, and ascertain from actual inspection and examination, whether they are provi ded with the requisite numberof firo buck ets, of the proper quality and dimensions. And said fire-wardens shall also examine and inquire into the condition of the chimneys, ovens, tire places, furnaces, Btoves.and stove pipes. Andif.in their opin ion, new buckets are needed, or if old ones require repairing, or if security from fire requires any alteration or repairs in ny chimney, oven, fire place, furnace, Btove, or stove pipe, the fire-warden ofthe ward within which the same is required, shall immediately leave a 'written notice, at the dwelling house of the owner of the building or tenement, or his agent.if either reside in the city, setting lorth, tho num ber of new buckets required, and the time within which they are to be furnished, and the repairs necessary to old ones, and also the nature and description of the repairs and alterations in the chimney, oven, fire place, furnace, stove, or stovepipe and the time within which such repairs and alter ations are to be completed. And if the owner or agent does not reside in tho city, such notice shall be served on the tenant or occupant of the premises who shall ira mediately transmit the same by mail or otherwise to the owner or agent. Sec. 8. If any person notified as re quired by the foregoing section shall fail to provide or repair fire buckets, or faij to make the necessary repairs or alterations according to such notice, and within tho time therein prescribed, it shall be the duty of the proper fire warden, immediately al ter the expiration of the time stated, to cause the necessary buckets to be provided or repaired, and also to cause such repairs and alterations in the premises to be made as may be set forth in the notice, at the expense of the city; and he shall forthwith thereafter file with the mayor a statement of the expenses incurred as aforesaid ; and the mayor shall thereupon institute suit by summons, in the name ot the city, against such delinquent, which summons, it such delinquent be a resident ot tne city, snai llcclilg joroal, potch to gnmitan Inftfels, fikniwu, Stum, anb be; served at . least three days before the return day thereof, by a copy left at his usual place of abode ; but if such delin quent is not a resident of the city, a copy of the summons left with the tenant or occupant of the premises ten days before the return day thereof, shall be held to be a good service ; and in either case, on the return day of the writ, unless good cause be shown to the contrary, the mayor shall render judgement against such delinquent tor the amount ot the expense incurred, with a penalty of twenty-five per cent, and also the costs of suit, and issue execution therefor. Sec. 9. Any tenant or occupant, not being the owner of the premises, may pro vide or repair buckets, or make the repairs or alterations in the premises requi'cil by the notice ofthe fire-warden, at the expense of the landlord, and shall be entitlod to a credit therefor as so much rent paid. sec. 1U. If many case, from any cause, the expense incurred by the city according to the third section of this ordinance, shall not be re-iinbursed, tho items and amount thereof, with twenty-five per cent, penalty thereon, shall be returned by the proper fire-warden to the city council, and the same shall constitute a lien or charge upon any taxable property of the delinquent within the city, and the council shall di rect the city clerk to enter the same on the tax duplicate of the current year, and the marshal shall collect the same as other taxes or collected. ' Sec. 11. If, in the opinion ofthe proper fire-warden, there is such immediate dan ger from the further use of any chimney, oven, fire place, furnace, stove stove pipe, or other fixture as to render it necessary, he shall notify the owner or occupant of the premises forthwith to discontinue the fur ther use of such chimney, oven, fire place, furnace, stove, stove pipe, or other fixture, until the required alterations and repairs shall be completed. And If the owner or occupant, or other person, shall afterwards, and before such alterations and repairs are completed, knowingly suffer or permit the fixture required to be altered or rcpairod. to be used in any manner calculated to' en danger property, he shall bo subject to a fine not exceeding fifty dollars, and not less than five dollars, together with the costs of prosecution; and it' shall be the duty of the proper h re-warden, If in his opinion it shall be necssary.to take the proper meas ures to enforce the immediate disuse of such fixture, and for this purpose he shall have power to call upon any residents of tne city tor assistance. CONTINUED 01 TniRD PAGE. Miscellaneous Reading. Shadows', then Sunshine. " work, work, work I 1 n (he word to myself with bitterness, as I leaned out from the window to catch the sweet breezes of the morning as they swept up from the green meadow-lands cool and delicious. Lines of misty, gol den light were slanting down from the hill-lops, making amber paths across the green, dewy fields, and amber ladders from one tree-top to another, through all the wide expanse of woods that my eve could reach. Under the window, roses and lilacs blossomed 'he roses tossing their red and white, and (he lilacs their cloudy purple clusters, backwards and forwards, meeting as if to exchange kis aes, and mingle in one sweet breath their united fragrance. But what were (he sunlight, the trees the dewy fields and flowers to me! might not go out so freely among ibem : my feet could not freely press the green grass of the fields ; I might not wander where the breezes made anthems through the trees ; my hands might not pluck the simplest flower which bent for ward (o meet (heir weary outstretching, I must work, for labor was the only gift for me whether I made it a pleasure or a curse, it was the only alternative. And so with tears in my eyes, which the sun light mockingly bridged accross with gol den bars, I seated myself to my daily task. 1 here was a great well of bitter ness within my heart, which with the most rigorous will 1 could hardly keep from overflowing a passionate uphea ving of my deep womanly nature, which in vain 1 tried to press backward into the quiet channel it had always known. In vain for it surged up to catch tbe light and the shadows, the light, though I said the while, there was no light, and the shadows, which, even in my bitterest moments, I shut my heart against. It was a strange time to me; can you com prehend it rencor ! A time when I de nied everything for a fear that was the sweet foundation of a hope. Work, work, work l I said again pressing my fingers close upon my ejes, and letting fall the garment upon which I had been sewing.' 4 1 wish I might die, die! My tears tell thick and fast wished I might weep my life away. 'Nelly, Nelly dear, you will weep so long that there will be no rainbow after the shower; there will be a dull, heavy grayness upon everything. Look up, I have something to say to yoa Before the words fell upon my ear I recognised a presence near me, a soul mat mine leaped up in great waves of joy to meet Words were not wanted to assure me of the presence of Charles Howard. In moment the smiles gathered upon my MmnTTliniTirri T oiriUi)m villw, umu, .. vvmitioiMi ace, and involuntarily I clasced inv lands from my eyes to meet the penetra ting gaze of the man I loved. Now, now, Nelly we have the rain-J dows ! be said drawing a chair and seat- ng nimsclt by my side, and at the same time tossing carelessly the light, airy robe which i was making, upon the table, 'Tell me what doubles you.' For some reason the bitterness within me flowed up to my lips when I opened them to Bpeak 4 am weeping for joy,' I said, turnine my head away from him. 'Is it to be wandered at I' Not if your heart in its oulreachine can divine the future,' was the answer. 'Are you a prophet,' said I 'that you speak with such auihority : ' 1 judge your fvture by my own heart, Nelly,' said he. 'I will not believe that it tells me wrongly.' I reached out my hand for my work, without replying us he eaid this. A de termination aroe within me not to listen idly, like a pleased .child, to his words, even though they sent the warm blood dashing over my face, and quickened to wildness the pulsations of my heart. I was a poor dependent sewing girl, and Charles Howard was rich, proud, and of high family. What I knew of the world, all the education I could lay claim to, had been gathered piece meal ; and yet I was not ignorant or unlearned. He was an elegant, polished man, at ease in any sta tion, a man who had seen the world without entering into its busy, bustling rank, and from seeing, had turned away weary and discontented. From the moment I saw him, when he first came to spend the summer with the proud Langdons, with whom I was living I knew him wholly and well, as if for years 1 bad been permitted t) read Ins heart as freely as a written scroll. Peo ple said he was the betrothed husband of his haughty cousin, Letilia Langdon, and judging by what I saw daily, 1 had no right to dispute it. Indeed, I thought it very probable ; yet with me there was ever this sweet assurance, I could under stand him, appreciate him as she could not ; could bring by my words a smile to his lips that she might try in vain to sum mon there. He might give her tho husks ol bis soul, the outward make-believe de votion, but I could see into Ida inner life, and knew that not for a moment was her proud, arrogant face deguereotyped (here. lie was by her side in ail (he glitter and 6how of fashionable society, but he came lo me for sympathy when he was weary and disheartened, when the eyes 6f the world were turned for a moment from tbe worihip of its idol. But the day before Hat, upon which he found me weeping, Letetia spoke harsh and insultingly to me, taunted me with my low name and calling, and with an angry light in her dark eyes, told me if 1 dared raise my plebian voice to speak to those so far above me. she would have me turned into the street like the beggar 1 was. I have often wondered since, how I bore so meekly, and without .retorting, her insolent words ; I cannot say unless it was for the sweet love that had placed me, for the time, far beyond the reach of ber taunts. I judge your future by my own heart,' repeated Charles, attempting as he spoke to draw my work from me again, 'Uh Nelly bid me hope that I have not judged wrongly. What right had I to tremble with de light at his welcome words ? what right bad the warm tell tale biusms to write out for his perusal my secret upon brow, lip and cheek! I was poor, and what right had I to a woman s life of love and joy? Charles Howard was a proud man, what could he want of my loveT I he thought was torturing to me, and with a quick spasmodic effort I eaid to him, 'Do not, do not taunt me, Mr. Howard. I do not deserve this from you.' 'Taunt you, dearest,' he said, drawing me passionately towards him. 'Taunt you, who have grown (o be nearer and dearer to me than any one else I when I came to you this morning to ask you to be my wile ray wife, Nelly! he repeat ed 'You cannot mean what you are say ing, 1 sobbed. 'You are rich, learned and proud ; I am poor unknown and un loved.' I was a sewing girl. . 'Well, what of that V be asked, hold ing me at arm's length from him, as though I had been the meroal child, and looking half sternly, half reproachfully in my face, '1 am weary of pride, pomp, and show. I ask for. the love of your true, womanly heart a heart (bat has been kept pure and free from the corro ding dusts of tbe world. Give, 0 give me a home there, Nelly 1 If there is a condesension on either side, it is on yours. You are truer and purer than I am. Do not interrupt me. If you were not. your life oould not flow on so calmly so gently. I am a better man when near you, darling.' -Oh, how like a bewildering, beautiful dream his words made everything to me How rapidly and intoxicating ly the assu n firi . TirfrTn 111 . ranee of his love weai"ltffough the wait ing chambers of my soul. I forgot eve rything, hardship, privations, insults. sorrow, and despair, ss for one little mo ment be drew my weary head to his breast, telling me that henceforth and for ever it should be my shelter, resting place, and shield. 'Ha, ha, ha,' broke Ihrouirh mv col- den joy the quick, musical laugh of Let- itia Langdon. 'Roally this is interest ing. How lucky fur me that I took a freak to rise early this morning. This beautiful, pathetic tableau, free of ex pense. Ha, ha, ha. Shall I summon spectators, Mr. Howard !' 'Just as you please, Miss Lanedon.' was the cool, carelessly-given reply, as he drew me back to my seat. 'Perhaps your enjoyment will be increased, however, if you have the selfish pleasure of'know ing that it is unshared by any one else.' 'Jteally, (Jharles, this is a little beneath you, she replied, in a conciliating tone. Don t, I beg of you, (rifle with this poor, unsophisticated creature any longer. Of course it is perfectly excusable, for gentlemen have a right to seek amusement ss ihey choose; but this girl, this servant of mine, really she makes me blush that I am a woman." 'Come here, Letita, and let me look at you while you are blushing, was the reply given with 8 light laugh. Well, yes, anything,' said she. 'Only let ibis girl bo sent to her room. This is no place for her.' A quick, fiery anger shone in Charles Howard's eyes at these words, such as I lad never seen there before ; yet his voice was calm as he said aloud to ber, 'Very well ; and then whispered to me. '1 11 take care of you, darling. Do not fear.' Half an hour later, as I was nac.inz to nu iro across my chamber, Letita Lang don came to me, her beautiful features darkened by frowns. I did not tremble at her anger, but stood up silently and proudly before her, waiting for her to commence the merciless tirade which she had in readiness for me. Well, what have you lo say for your self?' she began, her voice quivering with rage. 'Answer me I n pi . uui i uia not care to speak, and so remained silent. 'Why don't you answer me !' she ask ed, wiih a Btamp of her foot. first, l must know by what authority you question me,' I replied. 'kin, are you not my servant, workine for the home I give you ! Are you not accountable to me for your deportment ? 'It 1 do not pleae you I can easily leave,' I said turning away from her. Yes, and leave me you should, but for Mr. Howard's kindness and pity. Foolishly enough, I have promised not (o turn you out of doors. However, be careful how you conduct yourself, or you will go now, she eaid, sweeping proudly towards the door. She stopped suddenly, and added, 'I have a few dresses which you may as well make for me. Mr. Howard thinks you will please us better than any one else.' 1 could but smile at ber piesumption at she closed the dour after her. 'Mr. Howard thinks you will please us,' I re peated to myself, thankful that her insin uations had no longer power to ruffle the calm joy of my heart. Two or three days passed away, and I did not meet or speak with Mr, Howard again. But for my trust in his love, my perfect faun in his every plan, I, should have left the house of the Langdons, even though I was forced to sleep in the streets. But ha wished me to stay for some good reason, and so I bore up bravely under insults that nearly bordered on curses. Letita told me that he looked upon me with scorn and contempt, while he pitied me because I was poor and friendless; and so she must, out of courtesy to him, insist upon my sewing in my chamber instead of tho sitting-room. But one evening, when I supposed every member of the family was making merry in the parlor, 1 stole down in the sitting-room for a book which I had left there several days before. As I turned from the room to cross (he brilliantly lighted hall, I met Mi. Howard. A sud den light broke over his face as he saw me, and with hands extended be came towards me, taking both my own in his. 'I must not stay,' I said, attempting to draw away from him. 'But a moment, dear,' said he. 'I am preparing a home for you. It will be ready soon. I am going away to-morrow. When I return I will take you from this place. Keep up a brave heart until then. I will be back again in three days,' As be bent his lips down to mine, I saw al the opposite side of the hall, peer ing from a door, the handsome, haughty faoe of Letita Langdon. I had not time to signify by word or look to Mr. Howard (hat there was any one watching us be fore he said, pressing my hand as he turned away, 'Three days Nelly I' But his assurance did not make me happy. . I could have borne everything, knowing tho same roof sheltered us both; ' ' ' December 29. 1858, but now for (hree long days I was to be left to (he mercy of tbe cruel, reVebgelul Letita What might not happen in that time ! I wept myself to sleep thinking of it, and all night my dreams were shad owed by the face of Letita Langdon, wearing the same expression it had worn tht evening before, when it lowered upon my nappiness. i tie following day there was this same strange presentment of evil with roe, which 1 could not put away ngnuy. lieuta a laco was an unreadable one, ye( when she spoke to me there was an air of triumph about hera vein of satisfied revenge running through the very tones of her voice. On the morninz of the second dnv of ur. iiowaru s absence, while I was sit ting in my chamber finishing a lighl morning wrapper for Letita I was sum moned to the parlor. I knew not why, but a sudden fear took possession of me; I felt that a great grief was bearing down close upon me, and I could hardly totter uown stairs, so real baa grown fbe idea of the sorrow that was coming. Miss Kussell,'. began Mr. Langdon as I entered the room, in which tbe whole household was assembled, 'I have sad reports of you from my daughter Letita. Some one has taken a large sum of money from her purse; can you tell who it was V Sir,' I began in a choked voice, 'I do not understand you.' 'Probably not, miss,' said he. 'But to make everything plain, I will repeat it. My daughter Letitia misses a large sum of money from her purse, and she thinks you may be able to give her some clue to it in a quiet way, you know ? 'How should I know anything of her money i i demanded, in a quick, empha tic tone, fixing my eyes steadily, upor tho thin, sharp face of the old man. 'Oh that would not be a very difficult matter, as you often go in and out of my room 1' said Letitia, seeing that her father quailed beneath my glance. And what right have you lo insinuate such a thing of me T the right that the rich assume over the poor!' I asked. 'No such right, miss, retorted Letitia. 'But when a woman shows herself to be wanting in one essential virtue, people are more ready to suspect her of lacking others. So I must believe (hat you are able to tell me something of my money, rather than other servants who have al ways shown themselves strictly honorable in everything.' 'And is this all yoa have to say to me!' I asked, glancing round the little assem bly. 'All ! It is enough, younar woman !' exclaimed Mr. Langdon. .bnough ! Certainly, sir,' I answered. turning to leave the room ; but al the door was met by an officer who thrust a search warrant in my face. According to law, ma'am,' he said. preceding me up stairs, 'such things must be looked into.' I glanced round the little group that was following me, to see if (here was one pitying, humane face in it; but I looked in vain. Every countenance wag hard and cold as granite. Why, oh, why did not some kind angel send Mr. Howard to me at that moment of peril 'Wbat makes you so pale, Nelly! sneered Letitia, as I leaned tremblingly against the window for support. I did not answer her, but watched the pompous ofOoial as he carefully searched every article of clothing in my trunk with a perseverence worthy of a better cause. 'Nothing here, sir, he said, at last, ri sing to his feet, and facing Mr. Lanedon, 'Here is another box,' broke in Letitia pointing to a writing desk that stood upon a table. Again the man of law commenced his duty, with a smile of hope lighting up his leatures. lie held up to the wondering company a short gold chain which had been the gift of my mother before she died; and (hen a plain gold ring, which bore tbe initials, C. II. A murmur of displeasure went around the circle at the discovery of the ring, and before it died away the oflicer had turned out of a email box, three sovereigns. 'Wy money, my money!' screamed Letitia. 'It is exactly the number abstrao ted from my purse.' What have you to say now. Miss!' asked Mr. Langdon, coming up to me and laying his thin band upon my arm. mat Miss Letitia Langdon placed the money (here herself, sir,' 1 answered, slowly and distinctly. 'Do you hear that, Mr. Officer !' called the excited old man. 'Take her away into the street, to jail, anywhere. I won'l have her in my house another moment, not another moment, sir. The jail is the place for the thieving creature.' No, no, father, don't say that, don't be too narsn,- cnec jetitia. 'It is my af .... - lair; auow me to settle it with her. know you will, father.' You are too kind, too forgiving,' said the old man, placing his hand fondly on the head of his child. 'The jail is the piace tor iter, Letitia.' -'But do not think of that, father: she ii young, yery young, remember, and is Central -Jntdliptt. VOL. 4 -NO. 52 ithont friends. The sin is against me. Go away all of you, and leave ua.toge.th er." Slowly Mr. Langdon yielded to his daughter's wishes, and preceded the household to the door.. You can choose, Nelly,' began Letitia, when we were left alone, 'between two alternatives: you can go to jail or leave the place at once. Choose between the two you must, quickly. If you wish to stand a trial and make your sin a public one, very well. If you wish to avoid it, 1 will assist you to leave town immediate ly. Which will you do! I dropped my head upon my trembling hands to cover my face from her malig nant, exultant gaze. Should I stay to bring shame upon the noble head of Charles Howard a disgrace that would never leave bim! Should I drag him down into my misery ! Never. 'I will go at once,' I answered, rising. Very well,' said Letilia. 'I will order a conveyance myself in time for the train, and send some ono to assist you in pack ing your trunk.' In less than half an hour I was at the station, wailing, half impatiently for the train in which I was to go. It came at last, and with a feeling of mingled relief despair, I made my way through the crowd towards the carriage pointed out to me. As I stepped one foot upon the plat form, some one grasped me firmly by the arm. I looked around and met the puz zled, wondering glance of Charlee How ard. 'Where in the world are you going, Nelly V he asked, drawing me back through the crowd. 'Home!' I said, faintly, as I leaned beack heavily upon his arm. 'You are mistaken in the direction, said he, 'Home is this way, dear, very near you,' he added, motioning a coach' man to him, 'Drive us to Chestnut Hill,' said he to the driver, as he lifted ine into the coach. I looked at him with wonder ind sur prise. It seemed like a dream to me. 'I'll tell yoi Nelly, we are going home,' said he. That's our destination. I have procured a marriage license, and I am come back earlier than I intended, be cause I felt sure you were in trouble. What have thay been doing to you !' . in broken sentences I told him the sto ry of my persecution. Never mind, never mind,' he said. I will take care of you in future. But nrst l wish to nave a better right to pro tect you. Everything is prepared for your reception in your new home, and we will be married at once. Nelly : so there will be no room for scandal. Hea ven forbid that I should add to your suf fering by my thoughtlessness.' . 1 must have beon a sorry faced bride to look upon, but my heart was true and glad as could be. The following morn ing Mr. Howard sent a note to Miss Langdon, which ran as follows : Mr. Charles Howard presents his com pliments to Miss Letitia Langdon, and begs she will not forbear prosecuting her suit against At wife since she did not leave town yesterday as agreed upon. He hopes also, that Miss Langdon will not allow any modest or conscientious scruples to deter her from ber duty, even though in doing it she is forced to the painful necessity of taking Mrs. Howard from her pleasant home to the tail.' I his all happened years ago, in a time ot shadows ; 1 have now sunshine. The two Homes. Two men on their way home, met at stroet crossing, and walked on together. 1 hey were neighbors and friend. ' 1 his has been a very hard day," raid Mr. Freeman, in a gloomy voice. And as they walked homeward they discoura each other and made darker the clouds that obscured their whole horizon. " Good evening," was at last said hur riedly, and the two men passed into their homes. Mr. Walcott entered the room where his wife and children were gathered, and without speaking to any one seated him self in a chair and leaning his head back, closed his eyes. II is countenance wore a weary, sad, exhausted look. He had been seated thus only a few moments, when his wife said in a fretful voice: More trouble again." " What's the matter now," said Mr. walcott, almost starting. John has been sent home from school." What !" Mr. Walcott partly rose trom nis cnatr. 11 He has been suspended for bad con duct." "Oh dear I" groaned Mr. Walcott where is he !" "Up in his room ; I sent him there as soon as he came home. You'll have to do something with him. He'll be ruined if he goes on in this way. I'm out of a! heart with him." Mr. Walcott excited, as much by the manner in which hie wife conveyed the unpleaiant information itself, started ap, under the blifid impulse of the moment and.goinf to the room where John bad been sent on coming home, punished the boy merely,, and this without listening - 4 to the explanation whian the poor child -v tried to make him hear. Father," said the boy with forced calmness, after the cruel stripes had ceas ed. " 1 was not to blame ; if you will go with me to tbe teacher, I can prove myself innocent." . , ... , Very well we'll see about thaLV he answered with forced sternness: and eaving the room, he went down stairs, feeling much more uncomfortable than when he went up. - Again he seated him self in his largo chair, and leaned back us weary head, and closed his heavy eyelids. Sadder was his face than before. As he sat thus, his eldest daughter, in her sixteenth year, came in and stood by him. . She held a paper in her hand . , ' Father !" he opened his eyes. " Hero's my quarter's bill ; can't I have the money (o take to school with me in the morning ?" "Ira afraid not," answered Mr. Wal cott, half in despair. ' IM early all the girls will bring their money to-morrow, and it mortifies me to be behind the others. The daughter poke fretfully. Mr. Walcott waved her her aside with bis hand, and she went off muttering and pouting. " It is mortifying," said Mrs. Walcott, little sharply: "I don't wonder that Helen feels annoyed about it. The bill has to be paid, and I don't see why it may not as well be done first as last." To this Mr. Walcott made no annwer. The words but added another pressure to the heavy burden under which he waa already staggering. After a silence of some moments, Mrs. Walcott eaid : " The coals are all gone." Impossible 1" Mr. Walcott raised his head and looked incredulous. ' I laid in sixteen tons." I can't help it, if there were sixty tons instead of sixteen, they are all gone. The girls had hard work to-day to scrape enough to keep tbe fire in." Ihere has been a shameful waste somewhere," eaid Mr. Walcott, with strong emphasis, starting up and moving about the room in a very disturbed, man ner. "So you always .say when anything runs out," answered Mrs. Walcott rather ' tartly. ' The barrel of flour is gone, but I suppose you have done your part, with the rest in using it up." Mr. walcott returned lo his chair and again seating himself, leaned back hit bead and closed his eyes as at first. How sad, and weary and hopeless he fell 1 l lie burthens of the day had seemed almost too heavy for him ; but he had borne up bravely. To gather strength for a renewed struggle with adverse cir cumstances he had oome home. Alas ! that the process of exhaustion should still go on that where only strength could be looked for on earth, no strength was giv en. When the tea bell rung, Mr. Walcott made no movement to obuy (he summons. Lome to supper," said his wife cold- But he did not stir. "Are you coming to supper!" she called to him as she was leaving tbe room. " l don't wisb for anything . this eve ning. My head aches very badly," the answered. In the dumps again 1". muttered Mrs. Walcott to herself. ' Its as much as one's life is worth to ask for money, or say any thing is wanted." And she kept on her way to the dining room. When she re turned, her husband was still sitting where she had left him. Shall I bring you a cup of tea !" she asked. "No j I don't wish for anything." 1 What's the matter, Mr. Walcott t . What do you look so troubled. about, as if you hadn't a friend in the world t What have I done to yoa V There was no answer, for there was not a shade of real sympathy in the voice that made (he queries, but rather of que rulous dissatisfaction. A few moments Mrs. Walcott stood behind her husband, but as he did not seem to be inclined to answer her question, alt's turned away from him, and resumrd the employment which had been interrupted by the ringing ofthe tea-bell. ; -1 The whole evening passed off without, the occurrence of a single incident that gave a healthful pulsation to the sick heart of Mr. Walcott. No thoughtful kindness was manifested by any member of the family ; but on the . contrary n a) narrow regard for self, and looking , to him only that he might supply the means ' of self-gratification. ,,, , (. . . , v ,vl No ; wonder, from the pressure which ' was on him that Mr. Walcott felt utterly discouraged. He retired . early, and, sought to find that relief from mental dis quietude in sleep which be had vainly hoped for in the bosom of his family But the whole flight passed in broken slumber , and disturbed dreams. Fion the cheerless morning meal s which L was reminded of the quarter's bill that must be paid, of the coals and flour that V). A .V. : ' JVV ft v , cO Jfr