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^7mftl7oTRNA ro7TlET NlTEDSTAT^ OFFICIAL JOURNAL OF NEW ORLEANS [From Appleton's Journal.] Life is arose, livier-tmrileiieil, yet sweet, Blooming a day; FUngitift its perfume like pevfume to meet, Wind blown away. l.eaf after leaf spreads its blush to the air, Kissed by the sun; I)eeper*Luedgrowing, as joy makes it Lai*. Luve's'guerdou won. Leaf after leaf shrivels rp from the heart, Leaving it bsre; Color and fr rrrauce and joy all depart. None left to care. Nav, the divine in it lingers there still, God's care in all: Hose-leaves but drop at the beck of His will, Fetters winch thrall. Up from its trammels the freed sjorit w ings. Higher to soar; Attar immortal a pure essence flings, Sweet, evermore. BOMBAY SHIRLEY'S CURK. [Nrom Old and Sew Locket.] '•I am called a man liater," said the pretty lecturer, with a shake, of her short curls iu the face of her audience; "hut that, my friends, depends upon the man." It seemed hut a small firework, "an inconsiderable quiddity," to call forth such a tempest of applause and laughter. It would have fallen (lead as a door nail from the lips of an ancient bloomer, who had grown old in the pioneer work of woman's rights; it was the archness, the curls, the tout ensemble of prettmess ot lliis champion who had come in at the eleventh hour, that did it. It was possible to conceive of one or* two men, at least, being interested in the question of her love or hatred. . , , ,, "When the crowd poured out ol the null, and parted into innumerable little groups and dots, like a drop of quicksilver spilled on the ground, two young men sauntered away, arm in arm, with that air of meltable superiority to the rest of the world peculiar to college students in the senior year; they are demi gods to the freshman class and they have yet to learn that the outside world is not like unto it. ••Is that woman out of her sphere, or not said Lenox to Bombay Shirley, his lamiliar * "That depends on how long a fence you would put round a woman's sphere. She is at least out of mischief when she is lectur ing from a platform, and her lecture has the virtue of homeopathic pill^-il it does no good it does no harm, either. "I am sure I thought her argument a good one. I had hopes of your conversion." "Her argument! My boy, the possessive feminine prououn can never go before that word. She stole it bodily from some man who favors the cause, and trimmed it so deep with a fringe of her own flippancies that yon mistook it for hers." "At least she'n pretty; she might reduce vonr confounded stoicism through your •1 admit the prettmess, and regret the brains which made her take up oratory, in stead of flirtation. When she leans forward •with that arch look which seems to assure everv man in her audience that he is not the one she hates, it may be better so, than in a moonlight stroll with half a dozen by turns." . "Tell me the truth. Bomb. Have you never known a woman whom you thought vou could trust 1" , , , - . . "Never. Who am I that I should pretend to greater wisdom than Solomon 1 "When you fall in love, may I be there to ^'That will never happen. I may possibly marry late in life, as those old Komans did, when the Emperor Metellus reminded them that marriage, howover painful, was still a ^'V^now not what possessed Shirley to look over his shoulder at that precise moment of his high discourse. Close upon them was a young girl, in a light gray suit, quakerishly plain, whose haste would not abide their slow saunter; and as she passed them, she looked at Shirley with the faintest of quizzi cal smiles hovering about her mouth. It striidk him with a sudden sense of having made a fool of himsflf, and he watched the slight figure till it disappeared in the one little dry goods store of the village. She came out with a small package in her hand, as Shirley was twirling a walking stick of twisted bamboo in his hand; and, having a girafie-like habit of carrying his head High in air, as if looking over an in visible wall, he knocked the parcel out of her hand. He picked it up and held it out to her without a word. She received it with an infinitesimal nod of thanks, and a smile of amused recognition, which brought a blush to Shirley's face. (These eliestnut haired people always blush so easily.) "A tableau for a deaf and dumb asylum! ' said Lenox. "You must own you have seen one woman who refrained from speaking when she had a fair chance." "Do vou know who she is!" asked Shirley, his curiosity getting the upper hand of his wisdom. , . , „ _ . "I am sorry I don't, as it is the first time vou ever asked the question." Shirley caught himself watching the gray dress out of sight, and came back to his old wav of thinking with a mental jerk. ""What right had the girl to smile at me in that superior way!" he said, provoked by the memory of it. "The right of the strongest, my man: she was far more at ease than you were." This was as true as it was disagreeable; and Sliirlev chewed the bitter cud of it in silence till "be reached his room. A woman-hater is made, not horn. The leaning of the natural heart of man is to place the other sex only a little lower than the aDgels; and, when this order of things is reversed, he lias either been ruthlessly jilted, or the twig was bent early by a firm hand. Bombay Shirley was a woman-hater of the most aggressive kind. He nut only cherished unreasonable contempt on bis own part, but tried to convert his friends to the same way of tSinking; and yet, " the pity of it. Iago !" for he had everything pertaining to the outer man which would draw and hold il logical feminine regard. lie might have been a young Viking (if the ordinary notion of a Viking is the true one), with the "Knotted column of liis tliroat, The massive square of liis heroic breast. He was like Saul among other men. taller bva head, and looked taller than he was by reason of a great mop of chestnut hair, which could not have curled tighter it lie had wound it up in papers every night of lus life. It actually made one feel warm oil a frosty morning to look at Shirley's hair as lie went, to " prayers." He had suffered ag onies with it m trying to takeout the curl— it looked so womanish—tnl there came that •welcome fashion of cropping the manly head into the semblance of a baboon s : then his soul had rest. . . , „ „ He had never been " disappointed, as the phrase is ; and yet there was a woman at the bottom of his cynicism, as tnerc is at the bottom of most mischief. The blame lay at the door of Miss Temperance Strong, the oulv woman with whom Shirley had any ac quaintance : yet she was that one good wo man of a thousand whom Solomon might have found, "counting one by one," if she had lived in his dav, and he had not shut his eyes to all but giddy Egyptians and the fair Moabitish women. Her price was iar abcfvc rubies, so far. indeed, that no man bad ever offered anything approaching to it : and she had continued Miss Strong lor more than threescore years. >lie alway s told her a-e at the first interview, so as to guard against the suspicion ot wishing to mue it. "But to begin at the beginning. Bombay Shirley was born at sea, and cost Ins moth* 1 her life; hut, being a lusty, hard listed baby from the first, bound to thrive on hard bread and water if nothing else served, he came to the turning point ot jacaet anu trousers on sliipboatd. . Captain Shirley prolcssed to scorn all learning that couki not he at once applied to practical use; Hnd the most contemptuous thing he could say of a botched piece ol work was that it looked as if it had been doue by a "collegian." No- one familiar with sailor-nature (which does not eiitrely come under the head of human nature, but "Sellers a sea-ehanee, Into Bonirtliiiig rich anil straiig", ) felt anv surprise that he had set his heart on Lis sou's going to college. In selecting a . a preparatory school, he passed over all tin se academies lormerly as plenty as black ber ries iu New England, where hoys and girls were educated together ("courting schools," he called them), and settled him in the family of a solemn old minister. Two or three other motherless hoys and Miss Temperance made up the family. I don't know whether she liked Bombay any better for having taken his first stop off Madagascar, and spoken his first word near Cape Horn; hut he seemed to bring into her life the freshness of the trade winds—a breezy flavor that she had never felt before, lie had known no other woman; and his affection, slightly tempered with awe, was deeply grateful to her. As for Miss Temperance, she reminded him of a ship's figure head, carved out of heart of oak, that had breasted all weather till its first good looks are battered out of ail shape of comeliness. She had bowels of compassion lor all the weaknesses that boy flesh is heir to—her heart would have held the fifty sons of Priam; but all women were faithless as Helen in her eyes, or would he if they had apportunity. Sbe looked upon young girls, ami their ways, with eyes of such fierce condemnation, that not one had over Hark ened her doors in Shirley's time. In the nature of things, Miss Temperance must once have been a girl herselt; but she couhl never have been "of girls, girlish." Shirley cherished a certain bashful wor ship for all women iu bis boyhood. He bad lived among sailors in cabin and lorecastlt; he bad touched pitch, but he had not been defiled; the most abandoned wretch among them had held up to the hoy only the tine sailor-ideal of womanhood, which ueier fails him, though he may not have seen the semblance of it 6ince he left his mother s knee. , . . , It was Miss Temperance who set m order before him the depths ot deceit ot which the girlish miiul is capable. The shortest way to the manly heart may or may not lie through the stomach: Miss Temperance certainly commanded that avenue. She tended her kitchen fire like a vestal virgin; and the marvelous products of genius which came from it were things to remember, and to aggravate one's wife, with through life. Shirley's last vestige of unbelief in the gen eral worthlessness of young and pretty wo men vanished when liis father's death brought out all the tenderness of Miss Tempy's heart. Her sympathy and her pre serves did for him what her logic would never have accomplished ; and he went to college a confirmed woman-hater. He avoid ed hoarding in any house where there were daughters, and had serious thoughts of taking a room, and providing for himself, when he was pluced opposite to liis land lady's niece; but the niece proving only a tem porary, as Susan Nipper would say, he staid. He passed by the windows of two boarding schools, many times a day, as if he were walking an invisible tight rope; and his phillippics were terrible against those who suffered their souls to he moved by curtain signals, or the shaking of a handkerchief, lie is willing to make oath to this day. that lie passed through his four years in college without speaking to any woman under fil'tv. Ho invited only Miss Ttmperaice to his last commencement, and introduced her to his friend Lenox, with an affectionate solicitude that he should know at least one woman "capable ot a syllogism." "Y'ou would take rnoro interest in me. I doubt," said Miss Strong," "if he had said 'capable or bigamy.' " "To he sure," said Lenox, "and so would Shirley, if he only knew itand then that wicked boy went about asking other spirits worse than himself if they had seen tho Vale of Tempe, iu which Bombay Shirley had been brought up. "There's your little girl in gray." said Lenox to Shirley, at the President's recep tion on the same day. "Where ?" said Shirley, deigning actually to look about him. "I don't see her." "She's speaking to Miss Strong this minute. Her gown looks as if it were woven of white smoke, and tits as if had grown on her." "I am no judge of muslins," said Shirley. The next instant Miss Strong seized his "I've seen a ghost, or something worse,' she said. "Don't sav anything, but just go home with me now. I've stayed long enough." "It rains," said Shirley. "You must wait till eleven, and the carriage will come for you " I'm neither sugar nor salt, to he melted by rain; anil I would go out on the thirty ninth day of the deluge, before I would see that face again." She marched resolutely hack to her li<»t« ! through the sloppy street; and at intervals through the night lie heard her heavy step, pacing up and down her room. But in the morning she presented him the same sturdy j old figurehead to kiss, and gave no word ol explanation. "I believe the sight of so many flighty j girls has made me dizzy. I am actually • light headed," said Miss Temperance when ! they reached her own room. "I haven't , felt like this since I had my lever." "I did not know you ever had such a I thing," said Shirley. "It was'long before your time, when 1 ( was young," said Miss Temperance, making | a dive at her tea kettle and missing it. Her 1 motions were as erratic as those of tlie "di- j lapidated cousin," in "Bleak House;" and | Shirley was forced to make the tea himself. Afterward she fell into a heavy sleep, ; and Shirley covered her with his traveling shawl when he went up stairs for the night. When lie came down to breakfast she still lay on the sofa, scowling fearfully in her efforts to suppress the moans which her pain wrung from her. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it, for I j liavn't the least idea," said Shirley, hanging j over her with the true manly helplessness, > "I've got a stroke, I doubt, or may be it-'s | only rheumatism." "I hail better go for the doctor, anyhow." , "No, indeed; I hain't so tired of life as j that, nor I won't have any neighbors com ing iu to spy out the land. There's plenty | of cold meat and bread. You can camp out on that, and I shall be well enough to morrow." It was one more proof to Shirley of the substratum of manliness in Miss Strong's character that so soon as she was iil she be came peevish and exacting. Most women can be ill gracefully—it is their normal con dition—hut Miss Temperance knew the thing only by name. Shirley'half lifted and half dragged her to her bed—as she would not he carried, anil eoulil not walk. He did not venture to leave the house, and at noon liis patient thought she could take some tea arid toast. Shirley hail made tea before, and having made it and placed the tea-pot on the hearth out of harm's way, lie addressed himself to the toast, which, after repeated failures, was at last a success. "Do yon call that a cup of tea 1" said Miss Temperance scornfully. "It's cold as a stepmother's breath." Hot water made it too weak, and an other brewing had to be made with infinite care. "Yon were gone long enough to burn John lingers instead of this toast," she said when he presented it. And these were the lost conscious words that Shirley heard her speak for many days and nights. She began to talk oi things that Shirley had never heard of—called on Arthur, and made lover like entreaties to him not to for sake her. He sat patiently by her side, kissing her horny hands when he saw that it soothed her lor a moment; anil when at last she fell into a doze, as the twilight be gan to full, ho escaped into the [tailor to think what he could possibly do next, lb dared not leave her long enough alone to go for a doctor; and for a long time he watched the rain beat sullenly against the window, hopeless of seeing any one pass through the lane on which Miss Strong's house faced. Hope had nearly died within him when the slight figure ol a woman, eased from head to foot in a Water proof suit, battled round the corner, and dropped a carpet-bag on the door step while she scu tiuized the house. Shirley rushed to the door and opened it noiselessly. "Madam, I beg that you will come in. if only for a moment. You cannot think how great a charity it would be." "Certainly I will come in; I have been traveling all day for that express purpose, if this is Miss .Strong's house; " and the girl leaned forward to pierce the gloom which enveloped Shirley, who waited for no more words, but lifted her, bag and all, into the little hall and shut the door. "Miss Strong is very ill and wandering in her uiiml; and ! am wholly alone w ith her. y ou could not be more welcome if you were ; 1 i j j j | ! ! ! I ! j j ! ! i ! an angel out of heaven," said Shirley, m the extremity of his delight and relief. Ih; found her hand somehow in the dark, and shook it as heartily as if she hail been I^enox. . . "I thank you," said the girl, simply. "Miss Strong is my cousin, and it you will be so good as to bring a light for a moment, I will take off my cloak." .. , . Shirley found a candle, witu a iignt heart, tl'ie clear, low voice ol the new comer seemed to ereate a new atmosphere in the house. , , , ,, „ . She met him in the parin'-, aud held out her hand again, frankly, to be shaken. "I know you now," she said. "I saw you with Miss Temperance at the commence ment." r She had taken off the waterproof disguise, " ' 'ey the identical "girl and stood before Sliirl in gray." . . . ., "This is my cousins room, 1 suppose, she went on, with a sin;lc^ which might moan confusion to Shirley, in the memoi j of their first meeting, or might not. She gave him no time, to decide, hut pushed open the door and stood with him beside the lieu ■where Miss Temperance lay moaning m her sleep. , , , ,. " There are her bureau and wardrobe, oi course. She must he undressed first ol all, and while I do that you may make a good lire in the kitchen and I will come to you there." , , , , " Now you may go for the doctor, said the girl iu gray, coming into the kitchen w ith no more hustle thau it glie had spent her life there. , Shirley went cheerfully, feeling tnathe must be entertainiug an angel unawares. The fever would run its course was the doctor's verdict. Good nursing was all the patient needed for a few days. ' Ah • thought Shirley, as he measured his great strength with "the intelligent weakness ot the "girl in gray," who instinctively did the right thing in the right time. •I must look for some one to'lielp you, lie said when they were again alone. "Thank you; but there will he no need. Sickness is my strong point." "1 begin to think I have no strong point, unless it is Greek verbs." She gave a mellow little laugh. "If you are turning meek you must he hungry." "I believe I have, eaten nothing to-day." "I thought so. Y'ou shall show mo tlio pantry, and 1 will sec what there is for our supper, for 1 am hungry too." Shirley wondered at himself that he could eat so heartily in that presence, but hunger anil the good example of the girl in gray were too many for him. "My name is Rachel Gordon," she said, as soou as she thought of it. "My mother was first cousin to the Gordons. There was some 'unpleasantness' between them while she lived, but she was deeply anxious that 1 should win over Miss Temperance if pos sible." Shirley was immediately convinced that she could win over anybody to anything, hut, having no practice iu compliments, he remained silent, and stared at her unmerci fully. Rachel kept him busy all the even ing with bringing iu wood for the night and making all sorts of slight changes lor Miss Strong's comfort. "Now I have no more need of you," she said at last. "1 will bid you good night, anil if 1 need anything before morning I will go up stairs aud knock at every door till 1 find yours." "But—but—" stammered Shirley,who had fully made up his mind to shale a night's vigil with her. "I know no 6ueli word." "You must need rest, ami I am much stronger than vou are." "The last clause is self-evident, but you don't know so well how to use your own strength," said Rachael, opening Miss Strong's door. "But—but" persisted Shirley, utterly at a loss lor the proper phrases for such an emergency. j j > | , j | "That must be one of your Greek verbs, you are so fond of it. Good night, and 1 will see you in the morning." She disap [tears, and Shirley was routed iu his first campaign. He was certain that he should not close his eyes, but exhausted nature overcame him, "and the small hours were growing large again when lie stole down stairs, and was guided to the bedroom door by a dim light within. He meant only to look at the invalid, loir his eyes were caught before they reached Miss Strong. Rachael had been sitting bv the bed, and, laying her head where the least motion ot tiie sick woman would wake her, she had fallen asleep. Shirley thought (after he came to the thinking point) that he had never seen any thing so lovely in all liis days. Rachel had put oil a white wrapper with a long cape to it, and, for comfort's sake, itad taken the pins out of her hair. This light brown hair rippled round the small ear, and strayed over'lie dress, and finally lay on the fioor in a soft, wealthy way that was bewildering to Shirley, who had never before seen a woman's hair—her "glory." A passionate longing seized him to touch it once to see if it felt like his own stubborn curls. Rachel's lace was too earnest to be pretty. She had more of the "romance of your stone ideal" than those "ripe aud real" women whom Byron preferred. Her best feature was a straight nose, which, as Miss Branto saVs, will give a blear look to any face. Hers bore marks of trial aud hard earned rest, hut its purity struck Shirley with awe. He never knew how long he leaned against the door post, gazing with his soul in his eyes tit the sleeping girl. He learned her by heart in that look, as it she bad been a lesson, from t.ie little pur ple sprigs on her white gown to the blue veins in her forehead. He saw a woman for the first time, anil he never after saw another with the same eyes. From that moment the current of liis eager soul set onlv to her; a rage of covet ousness possessed him; she was the one tiling needful to round Ids life; it must have been for her that liis heart hail waited through his youth. He drew back at lust with an inward wrench, in the fear that she might wake and find him spying on her solitude. He went into the cold kitchen, and there Ra chel found him, sitting holt upright on the old fashioned settle. "You have not been sitting here all night. I hope," she said. "No," said Shirley, with a blush of re pentance that lie had not done so. anil so have been worthy of a little scolding on her part. She had twisted up all her wan dering hair into a loose knot; but that did not alter the picture which was newly hung for all time in Shirley's memory. He longed to tell her somehow that she must use him in every possible way to save her own strength, but the light words were slow in coming. "Miss Gordon—" he began more than once. "The name sounds odd to me," she said. "I have never been anybody hut Rachel. ! My mother belonged to the Society of ! Friends, and though she never made .me i quite a Quakeress,*! grew to love their sin: ! plicities. Y'ou may call lue Rachel if you like." Sliirly only hawed, and set about making the kitchen lire. To call her Rachel was no comfort; it seemed to put her farther aw ay from him, when their acquaintance did not warrant it; hut lie now lecognizvd the Quaker element in her face, the pure quiet ness which so olten looks out of those gray bonnets. "Whitest thoughts in whitest dress, Oauilid meanings best express Mind of quiet ijaakeress. Three or four days went by on wings while these two young prop! kept house together and waited for Miss Strong's lever to spend itself. It soon dawned upon Shirley iliat be must have fallen iu love with this plain girl. Nothing hut the old, old love could so trans figure in-ic living and breathing in her sight. It struck him with a certain im patience that no man had ever found words that would do it perfect justice. To all it is, at first, something new under the sun. He hid it closely from Rachel, however, acu grew daily more ceremonious and dull. .Rachel looked at him sometimes with the quizzical smiie which the lir.--r words she had ever heard him speak had provoked. She sat by the bedside one day, while Shiiley stood in his favorite position, holding up the door-post. Suddenly Miss Temperance raised her head from the pil low uud stared wildly from one to the other. "Arthur, you love her!" she almost screamed; "I see it in your eyes. You uever looked at mo like that. Rachel has weaned you away from me!" A flush rose to Rachel's pale cheek, and Shirley hailtd it with a big heart-throb. 1 Then he tried to soothe Miss Te uperance with all the fond words he could think ot. "Have you any idea why she calls mo Arthur 1" Shirley asked Rachel when he saw her alone. "Yes," said Rachel, with the fiusu again in her cheek. • Don't till me if it pains you." "You may as w'ell know it. Miss Strong was engaged to Arthur Gordon, my lather, and, while she was ill with a lever like this, in v mother came to take care of her and won away her lover. I believe, at least I hope, sbe had no idea of what she was doing, till Miss Strong saw the change in his feelings anil released him. My father thought she did not mind it and bail never really cared for him, but my mother knew In tter how strong hearted women suffer. While my father lived they were all on ap parently good terms (that was part of Miss Temperance's pride), but so (Soon as he died she forbade ui.v mother to come into her sight, and I dread her becoming conscious amiinlestshe will transfer theeumity tome." ''••She could never do that," said Shirley eagerly. "Why not 1" "Because—" stammered Shirley. "That is a woman's reason. ' . ,. "Arthur! Arthur!" screamed Miss Tern iterance from the bedroom. "Don t He making love to Rachel iu my very hearing. Gome in here, both of you.' They obeyed her silently. "Now, Arthur, look at me. Gan you lav your hand on that shitty heart ot yours ami say to me in irutli and Soberness that, you are not in love with Rachel! ' Shirley hesitated. He forgot that it was not in liis own name that she ad jured him. He thought only of his devouring love ior this second Rachel. "That's enough," said Miss Temperance, falling hack pale and trembling. Belore either could speak to her the wild look was gone from her face. "Shirley, bov, what was 1 saying to you ! 1 will take the broth now if it is burnt; you did the best vou could." Rachel had slipped noiselessly out of her siiilit. ... , , • Y'ou have been in this bed a whole week," said Sliirlev, kissing her thin cheek, though he felt his heart sink within him at the prospect of Iiaehel being driven away by Miss Strong's hatred of her motiicr. "Who has taken care iff me J 1 have had an uncomfortable notion iff a ghost hovering about me—tor Rachel s death was in the paper—I saw it with my own eyes." "Rachel's daughter has been live since the first day. You would have died but lor her." "I wish I had, rather than have been kept alive bv one of that treacherous brood. Rachel's daughter! a thin, colorless girl, with t*y os deep as wells, who would not do any bairn for conscience's sake, hut w ill take your life in her quiet w ay. smiling famtlv at everybody all the while." •• Rachel's daughter has done nothing worse than to keep your house and nurse you night anil day for a week, said Shirley, seveiely. *■() Shirley, my hoy, son of my old age. cried Miss Temperance in an agonized tone. -1 have lost you. Arthur said those very words of her mother. You have grown to love her." . , "Yes. I have," burst out Shirley, with the force of a torrent breaking bounds. "She is the one woman of all tlie world to me, and none shall say an ill word of her in uii hearing " "Mr Shirley, vou are hc-sidc yourself, said Iiaehel,-seizing his arm. "Think of her weakness. Would you kill her with hard words? I am going away at once. Miss Strong, and I wall never come again until vou send for me. 1 hope you will d the justice to believe there lias been no l ive making over your sick bed. 'Ibis is the first word or sign that Mr. Shirley has given of his love for me." ... She wen? out quickly, and Shirley s quick ear heard her mount the stairs. He gave the quieting draught to his patient which bad been left for her to take when she re turned to consciousness. When Rachel came down Shi: ley met her in the hall. She w;as again the "girl n gray." with her bag in her hand. "If you go away I go with you. said Shir lev. desperately. "No." said Rachel, "your [dace is hero If we belong to each other we shall line If!" repeated Sliirlev contemptuously. A radiant smile made Rachel's face beau tiful lor an instant. Shirley became sornc li-.w possessed ot both her hands and drew 1 t-r toward him with a sort ot aw ful wonder at iris own boldness—but the dropping of the bag roused Miss Temperance. "Silirii v, w lies- are vou!" slie called quer ulously. 'And Shirley obeyed the call, ear ning ""Rachel's last words in bis heart for bis only solace. "Wli-m Miss Ti lnperan e can endure the sight iff' me 1 will call itgim." iV hat a dull, homely old room that sit ting-room was, to be sure, when Shirley could go back to it, for he found no Rachel then-, and he had no clew to her destina tion. He spent the evening in searching lor a nurse for Miss Temperance. The bustling, good-natured neighbor who finally took Rachel's place in the house, was a thorn in the flesh of both iff them. Shirley endured his wietchod uncertainty until Miss Strong was able to sit iu her arm-chair and knit a little under protest. He was w alking nervously up and down the room, as his father used to walk the deck, when he met »istfui eve; i "My boy," she said, gently. . j "It ; s of no use staling here," lie said, • bending his cheek down to hers. "It you ; can spare me now I'll make that visit to I Lennox." j "Y'ou are going to Rachel ! I "I wish I were, hut I have no idea where she is." I "Did she give you no address ?" ; "No." ! "She must he either more or less than a ; woman to hear you say you loved her aud j yet go away without giving you a chance to sav it again." i "biie said she would come hack when you ! were, willing to receive her." "I doubt she's more like Arthur than that ; wishy-washy mother of hers. Is she pretty, ! Sliirlev V" I "I don't know; I never thought of it." 1 said Shirley,beginning to walk up and down j again. | Miss Temperance raised her eyebrows till , they were nearly lost in her hair; but she ' said no more of Rachel, and made no ohjee | lions to Shirley going away next day. He ! was no sooner gone, however, than she drew | a slip of paper from her knitting basket, ! anil after studdying a long time, knitting all tiio while, she wrote a letter to Rachel. The latter had written her address and stuck it on Miss Strong's knitting needles, knowing that she would soon find it in that spot, while it would he safe from Shiiley. On the third day Rachel walked quietly into the familiar sitting room and offered her hand to Miss Temperance, who glared at it over her spectacles as if it had been a kind of lizard, but took it, ueverihelesss. "I sent lor you to ask a question or two. Do vou like Bombay Shirley ?" "Yes." "l)o yon mean to marry him V "YVs^ if lie asks me." "Withor without n.y consent V "Yes." "One thing more. Do you think your mother did light in enticing your father away from me!" Rachel's face, which had been smiling brightly to all the other questions, crim soned painfully. "My mother suffered deeply. It is not for me to blame her. Her last words were an entreaty to you to for give her." "You are no beauty, yourself, Rachel, and if some other woman stole JSRirley away from you could you forgive her ?" "Perhaps not; but if sbe were in her gi ave Lthink I might possibly like his chil dren, onlv because they were his." "Y'ou may as well take off your things and stay awhile," said Mbs Temperance, with a suddeu change iu her every-day manner. "1 will," said Rachel, simply. And, with no more words, these two wbiuch adopted each other. ■ Shirley soon came home, because ho found all other places equally irksome. Miss Tem [>erance greeted him warmly, and kept his attention till she heard Rachel's door open above. "Oh ! I sent for the girl, Shirley. I forgot to mention it before." "What girl? You don't mean Rachel?" "Of course I mean Rachel. Who else 1" Miss Temperance took refuge in her kitchen before Rachel dawned upon Shirley's glad eyes. YVhen she opened the door again, with a great bustle, to call them to diuucr, Rachel was saying: "But, Mr. Shirley, you have known me scarcely fourteen days yet. You tal^ too much for granted." "The last seven days have been as long as the last seven years to Jacob when he waited for that other Rachel." Rachel.laughed merrily. "Oh ! Mr. Sliirlev, you have certainly seen the ghost of Metellus." "She's sitting at least three feet away from that foolish hoy." thought Miss Tem perance. "She begins as she can hold out; and, alter all, she's Arthur's daughter. It might he worse.'' ^_ Cat Down bv lee—Sinking of Steamer Nashville. [From the Cincinnati Gazette.] The third page of the Gazette this morn in contains an advertisement announcing that the steamer Nashville will leave lor New Orleans at 3 P. M. The Gazette , of January "1, contained a similar advertise ment. The steamer lias been singularly un fortunate. January 24, as stated in tin* Ga zette, yesterday morning, she left for New Orleans at night with a full load, hut turned back from the foot of Fifth street, on ac count of ice, and found a harbor at the New Orleans Packet Company's wharfboat, above the foot of Sycamore street, where she remained iu safety till last evening. Yesterday morning her advertisement again appeared in the Gazette, announcing that she would leave for New Orleans last evening, and would receive [wssengers and sorno light freight. Many people had en gaged passage, but none were aboard. A small lot of whisky, some parlor furniture mil other freight ^vere taken aboard. Yesterday afternoon the Memphis packet Robert Burns, which had been for several ks lying above what is called the big wharfboat, where the Nashville was lying, was dropped down under the Nashville, shoving the stern of the latter out into the stream. About seven o'clock last evening a cake oi ice, supposed to he a portion of the shore gorge above the Newport bridge, hardened by the sudden cold weather, broke, loose and floated down the Ohio side f the river. First it struck the Belle Vermin, lying next above the Nashville, hut without damage, as the Belle Vernon had comparatively little freight aboard Then it struck the Nashville, which was loaded deep, under the starboard cylinder mil cut a hole about twenty feet long ii the hull. The boat filled rapidly, and careened to the starboard, losing both her chimneys overboard, and finally settled in about sixteen feet of water. At eleven o'clock last night the water was in Her cabin on the starboard side, and within two feet of her larboard upper guard. The river was rising, partly from the effect of a gorge below the city, and partly from the tributaries running out above, so that there is little hope of saving much of her freight, which was mostly perishable but the boat seemed to be lying straight and easy. The Nashville was a sternwheeler, built at James Mack's ship yard, a little more Ilian a year ago, at a cost ol $3.1,000. She was insured iii Cincinnati offices for $10,000, and her freight list was insured for $2000. Originally she was built lor the Cinein nati and Tennessee river trade, and was to be called "Miriam," but was finally named "Nashville," and was entered iu the Cinein nati. Paducah and Cumberland river trade under command of Captain P. K. Barclay who died after making only two trips with her. The Nashville was owned by the follow iug gentlemen, one-third each: Captain Henry U. Hart, ln-r commander: Jame Mack, lu-r builder, aud Robert Semple, of Barker, Pearce A: Co. The value of the freight aboard was va riously estimated at from $ 1 50,000 to $ I i 5, 000. nearly all insured in this city. Some of the freight will suffer no damage, hut most of it will either be totally hist or saved in damaged condition. For some time afte the boat was cut dowu the portion of the crew aboard had much trouble in prevent ing pirating. About 272 tons of the cargo was destined for points on the lower Ohio and Memphis, ami the remainder for the remainder lor the lower Mississippi, New Orleans and the gulf coast. Captain Hart will have the sympathy of many on account of this misfortune, as it ir by no means his first, having sunk the Ken ton in the Mississippi, then the John II Groesbeek on the falls, aud now the N'a ville at the City Wharf. Tobacco Tax. is a special dispatch to ti Eon Thi II • publicit Washington. February 15 —The tobacc tax was settled to-day by the Ways anu Means Committee, by retaining the tax on smoking tobacco, and charging that on plug tobacco iroiu thirty two to twenty-four cents a pound. The appeal ot the tobacco inter est. especially that from Virginia, for a con solidated and uniform tax of sixteen cents a pound, or even twenty cents, was not re sponded to. If the tax was not made uni form. the [Jug tobacco interest was very desirous that the tax on that manufacture should be placed much lower. They are, of course, very much disappointed. It was noticeable that the high tariff' members of the Ways and Means Committee voted for the lowest tax, on the ground that by reducing the internal revenue, the tariff would not necessarily undergo so much re vision: hut the revenue reformers main tained that the tax ought to remain on lux uries and taken off' ol manufactured arti cles. Of necessity the action of the com mittee will reduce the internal revenue on the basis of 1871 $2,500,000. A JIvstery Reins Cleared Up. The .Shrt veport Times says: It will bo remembered that in November or December last a young man by the name of Marks, who was attached to a party engaged m surveying that portion of the line of the Trans-Continental railroad iu Sulphur bottom beyond Jefferson, disap peared, and no trace could he discovered, at least at the time. The Jefferson Demo crat of the sixth, however,-says that al though the body of the unfortunate young man lias never been discovered, yet it is gratified to know that energetic men are upon the track of his supposed murderers, and. moreover, states that one is already confined iu jail, haling been arrested iu Kansas by Mr. George Holt. It seems that the captor followed his man over500 miles, and safely brought him back. For pru dential reasons the Democrat does not feel at liberty to say more on the subject. sarvi-y ot the Lakes, \V '.siiin'gton, D. C., February 14.—Ma jor C. B. Comstock has submitted to t'no Secretary of War a communication, asking that the appropriation to be made for the survey oi the lakes be made available on the first oi' May next, or on the passage of the act. instead of on the first of July next. He states that experience has proved that j the cost of the work iu the fall months is ! nearly double that dune in the spring and sAmoier months, and if the appropriation is not to he used until the first of July, tlio work is ill have to be done in the fall. If tie- appropriation is made available earlier, a saving of not less than #10,000 would he effected. The letter was sent to Congress to-day and was referred to the Committee on Commerce. Rumored Marrinpe of Alexis. [■St. Petersburg (January 11) (Jorn .-pondeuce of the New York i*.veiling Post ] There is a report going about that the Grand Duke Alexis has married, in America, Mile. Jonkofsky, mai;l of honor, to whom he lias been attached fora long time, and who was banished to Switzerland on his ac count. The on dit i3 that the young lady managed to join him in America, aud that the otiier day the Grand Duke announced to the minister aud the admiral that he was married, to the utter ilispair of both gentle men, who will probably have to do penance in Siberia for not looking more sharply af ter their charge. There may not bo any truth iulhis rumor, hut it receives credence here iu high circles. • A young lady in Indianapolis, whose married sinter's funeral took place last week, excused herself from attending the solemn obsequies by saying that her own wedding was to take place in the evening, aud it would incapacitate her for that occcasion: besides, she had no time to spare. The Louisiana University. We make room ior the following ex tracts from the report of Professor D. F. Boyd, superintendent of the State Univer sity: A university must grow, w ith plenty of means of ever growing, else it can not keep stop with human thought and be the expo nent of a progressive civilization. A univer sity can not be self-sustaining. Like a court placed above all waut, or doubt as to pro per and respectable maintenance. Ihose institutions of society, which are necessary to its well-being, society must have, wheth er the people are prosperous or not, lew or many; anil it would be ab nit as reasonable to sav that tlie'governorship,or judgeship, or , ulp'it should be self-sustaining as that a university should be; and strange to say those verv people in the United States who are most noted tor their enterprise, industry and thrift, whose private and public wealth is the result ol most superior judgment and economy, are our Northern brethren, who are so ' thoroughly convinced that their higher institutions of learning, so far from being self-sustaining, ought to be sustained by the private citizen; that during the last few •years they have contributed, says a eoeut writer, to colleges and universities as follows: Amherst College, Massachusetts, $370, 000; Bethlehem College, Pennsylvania, 500,000; Princeton College, New Jersey, 300,000; Cornell University, New Y'ork, $870,000; Harvard College, Massachusetts, #483,000; Hamilton College, New York, $202,500: Rochester University, New Y'ork, ____,005; Tult's College. Massachusetts, $o00j000; Chicago University $258,000; Y'ale College, Connecticut, $720,000, with others, nuking an aggregate ot nearly $5,000,000.' Whether this institution is to have any portion, or all of the Agricultural and Me chanical College fund will, no doubt, he determined by the Legislature at the coming session. The sum is so small that I think it would be unwise to divide it. . Louisiana lias already too many little sickly colleges and universities, and not a single good one. The resources of all her so-called higher in stitutions of learning put together would not give her one good, efficient, respectable college. Why not then concentrate ou sometime of them—and it matters very little which oik— give it all tLe State's means, public aud private, for higher education, and try to make it serve the real purposes of a university in lact. . The small agricultural aud mechanical ^allege fund ought not, in the true inter ests of the State, to be divided; and rather than have it so our university should prefer seeing it giveu wholly to some otheriustitu tiou. The experience of the educational world now is: Concentrate your means for higher education; scatter your means for elementary education. The State is hound to see that every child within her limits has an opportunity to know enough to compre hend the duties of a citizen; aud she. is equally houml to see that every youth whose eircumstauees admit of it shall have an opportunity of receiving the highest mental and moral culture possible. * Common schools or fountains of learning should, like iouutains of water, be every where over the face of the earth, to min ister to the common purposes and to relieve the necessities of man; but, as the springs and rivulets are the offspring of the sea, and their waters must return to it for puri fication, so the university of a State should be its grand reservoir of thought, and learn ing, and knowledge—the fount ot its num berless juuiuarv schools, to teach them what they shall teach, and to be responsible for how they teach. As well say that you can have pure fresh water without the salty sea, as that primary schools can impart whole some knowledge without the elevated and retitiing influence of the real college or um versi-y in fact. But Low many colleges or universities can Louisiana maintain ? That is, indeed, a grave question. I respectfully submit that she bus not sufficient popula tion to support more than one properly. Generally, over the United States, there is but one student at college (or university) for every 2500 white inhabitants. Nmv, Louisiana, it is true, has about cue student to every 1200 of her people, but slm has not 400,000 whites, aud less thau 800.000 whites and blacks; and two-thirds ot her students, or about 400, she always will, it would seem, send out of the State to be educated. Wliere, then, are the students for so many colleges—some eight or ten—even if you could command ail the Louisiana patron age, to come from ! If tfiey depend lor tiieir support on the tuition tees, whence is to come their daily bread ? Nowhere. Therefore, we are ihh surprised that some colleges have actually perished and that others are actually now starving. Let the Legislature consider the wisdom of such a future policy as will tend to com bine, it possible, all the present so-called and misnamed colleges and universities (ours among the number) into one uuiver gity. to he worthy of Louisiana uud useful to her people. But Louisiana sends too many youths to other States to be educated. The accompa nying list (C) will show the number to be not less than 400, and it may exceed 500. Each will spend, on an average, $500 a year, and all of them together take out of our poor State not loss than $200,000 annually. No other people in the world do that—hell) to build lip the colleges of other States, aud suffer tiieir own to perish for want ot means. Let all those students and all that money be kept here at home, and be given to some one Louisiana college tor twenty years, and nothing but the most flagrant mismanage ment could prevent its becoming one of the best schools in America. The best claim, perhaps, that this institu tion has to the confidence aud support of the public is the vitality and endurance it has exhibited during this, another year of no ordinary trials. It is easy to float with the current; hut when the current of events is against vou, your State poor and people poorer still, with no settled policy about education or about anything else; even so ciety itself iu a ferment, with nothing cer tain. hut the doubt aud distrust every where—then to stem such a tide is a peril ous undertaking. And not only to keep from being borne down aud overwhelmed by such an ugly current., hut actually to make headway against it. has been the his tory of this university almost from its in cipieuoy. But reared in the midst of dan gers, anil having withstood nearly every conceivable misfortune that cbuld befall it— among the least of which have been war, pestilence, tire, poverty—it should noiv be gin to have confidence in itself, and the pub lic should pin its faith to it too, as strong enough to prevent by its excellent discipline any disorder within, aud able, perhaps, to resist any shock from without, even tlio hidden and insidious attacks of a few mali cious anil unprincipled enemies. The people of Louisiana, without regard to class or party, are friends of the University, aud with such a moral capital, better far than money, its success should be assured. U I The New Y'ork World says: Mr. T. M. Rodman; of this city, has im* ported a dozen English post-cards, one of which lias been sent to us. If our govern ment intends to give us really cheap post age. no better form can he decided upon than "correspondence cards." It is well known tlnyt much of the correspondence, business and other, now carried on in sealed envelopes, is of a kind and brevity proper for the back of a card. The British gov ernment, recognizing this fact, has legalized the use of a lialf-penuy "post-card," which is four inches long by two wide, of stiff, yellow cardboard, one side of which is ex clusively for the directions, aud contains the postage stamp iu the upper right-hand corner, the coat of arni3 of England to the left of flic stamp, above which is "post card," and below, "The address only to he written on this side. To"-, the whole being surrounded by a neat border. The presswork is in purple ink, which forms a pleasing contrast to the color of the card. Of course, if Congress should decide upon this reform,4t would he necessary to have an hourly delivery in the large cities—a re form which would not be a bad one, even at present. A man who is lost to honor, and has a cor rupt heart, never finds anything worthy in the conduct of his associates; he looks upon every one with a constant peering of sus picion. Amnesty and Civil Right* In the United States Senate, Friday last, Mr. Wilson, of Massachusetts, said: Mr. President, during this long debate the motives of Senators have been often questioned, and imputations have been made that, I think, ought never to be made in this body. I am a Tittle surprised that thu Senator from South Carolina, alter tlig long debate that we have had here, should rise? and now impute motives to Senators that are not justified by their avowals oi th Mr.'conkling-It has been indulged in frequently before by others. There is nothing Ut Mr' U Wilson—I have admitted that. I suppose that Senators who have! avowed themselves iri favor of amnesty mean what thev sav, anil Senators who have voted for the civil rights amendment voted for it because they thought it was their duty so to vote, anil that it was sound policy to carry these two measures through the Senate and through CongresB together. I have voted for the civil rights amendment proposed by my colleague be cause there are some provisions ot it which I deem essential, and demanded by the necessities of a portion of our fellow citi zens. „ . e 1 am not oulv in favor of amnesty as lui as the bill that is before ns goes hut I go a n-reat deal further, aud I am willing to so amend the bill that the exceptions shad aiiplv only to the members of the cabinet, judges of the Supreme Court, and mem bers ot Congress who took part in the U That° n ivas the view I entertained when the provision was put into the constitution. We have been called upon to vote oJtei: during the last ten years, not always ac cordiu" to our wishes, but according to the needs of the country. We have often been compelled to give up our own modes of ac tion, and all that we wish to do, to carry our friends along together to accomp.isa the great work iu which we have become cn 'a"-ed. And when this proposition was made originally to put -this disqualification iu the constitution of the country, in an other place and in another consultation, I opposed it, and voted alone against it; but I voted for it here because I yielded my judgment to others; I advocated it before the people, and I have stood on it. I wished then simply to put into the constitution a disqualification applying only to the men who sat here with us, or who were in the Supreme Court or iu the Cabinet, and, with oaths upon their lips, plotted, daj - and night, treason against the country. I thank Gotl, sir, that we have taken no blood for. this rebellion since the clash of arms ended. I am glad that no man has been executed. 1 do not b lie ye this gov ernment would ho stronger to-day if we hail done it. I do not believe the govern ment of Franco to-day is stronger for exe cuting the communists whom they li.nc convicted. YVe asserted the power of the government; everybody knows it, anti ltb the assertion of that power has gone out the record of the charity, the humanity, tho mercy of this Christian, democratae republic; and it is as much honor to us to day that we did not try and shoot down men or hang them after the war was oyer, as it was that we put down -that rebellion itself. Iu saying tlii3, sir, I have not a word to say in regard to any mitigation of the guilt. There is uo man in America who believes more iu the guilt of these men than I do. They have been punished. When we re member who they were, liow they ruled this country for two generations, how they voted down sacred rights, how they u<l vanced in one aggression upon the country after another until they raised the standard of revolt in their ecstacy of power and hope, and see where they are to day and what they are, defeated, nqver more to guide tho destinies ot this country, their bondmen taken from them and made citizens^ of tlio United States; their millions gone; poverty over that section of tlio country, and what 'e more and greater than all this, a record that is to live as longjas the'history ot the couutiy is to live, and that record being that these men iu this age of Christian civilization, that these men in this day of light ami knowledge, in this Christian democratic republic, for the purpose of continuing fet ters on human limbs, keeping auction blocks aud whips, selling babies, anil ex tending their power and control in the country, raised their hands against this na tion and strove to blot the republic Iron, the list of nations. Now, sir, the record is to go down to coining time blacker to morrow than it .) to-day. It was a sin against tho human race.'and the human race will never forge; it and never forgive it. When time passe-* awav, when we get away from slavery in all its influences, in the calm ami better days that are to eoinc, humanity the wide wiiild over will look with horror upon tffia; record. And, sir, is there a Senator here to day who would not rather be taken out aud shot like a dug. or hung like one within an hour, than to have his name ass* dated with that rebellion ? Why, sir, talk of prisons, talk of hangings and shootiugs— imprisonments, hangings and shootings would he mercy rather than to h£ye such reconi as that to go dowu to com;„g time I would rather die a million deaths of the most ignominious character thau to hai o mv name associated in any way with tlia; rebellion; aud so would not only every patriotic man and liberty-loving man, b;:; every man in God's world who believes ir the progress of the human race and in th dignity of humanity. They have been pur ished ; they are being punished ; they are to be punished more in the future than it the past, and the time will come when those, men, I hope, will get their eyes open enough to see that they would call upon the very mountains to hide them from the face ol outraged humanity. 1 do not want to keep this punishment. They have been punished. I am willing, therefore, to go in this matter of removing disabilities to this extent, to let everybody go, even members of tho convention's anil military and naval men. These military and naval men do not amount to much. They generally had not much to do about leading. They followed their section of the country out; they followed the statesmen anil politicians that went out and organized tho rebellion. There is not a groat deal to bo said about them. I am willing to let them and the men iu the conventions out, and I propose aud intend, if I got an opportunity, to move an amendment that shall carry out my own view, applying the exception only to men who have been in Congress, men who have been in the Cabinet, and men who have sat on the seats of tho Supremo Court of the United States. There would be perhaps two hundred or two hundred and fifty of them. And, sir, I will go further. I will pardon any of theuv when they ask me to do it, and show by their conduct that they mean honestly -to submit to the, const! tution and laws of the country. There are some of these men who have behaved we! i since the war closed, whose influences have been good. There arc others who have ac tea far otherwise. Now, sir, I am in favor not ouly of am nesty as far as the bill goes, liut further. 1 am in favor of the civil rights amendment that- shall protect tho colored citizens of tho United States all over the United States, everywhere, North and South, in traveling in public conveyances, in beiug taken earn of in hotels, and of settling the question ol equality iu the primary schools of the coun try where so much is to be doue to educate the rising generation of the country to for get caste and believe in tho equality of on, common humanity. Ohio Republican Convention. Columbus, February 11.—The Repub lican State Central Committee met here to day, and after transacting tho routine busi ness, adopted a resolution in- favor of ap pointing delegates to the national conven tion at the State convention; also, that several counties of the State choore their central committees in the spring instead ot fall, as heretofore. This evening the com mittee met again, with Republican mem bers of the Legislature aau a number of editors of Republican papers. Governor Noyes made a speech, declaring in favor of tho rrnomination of President Grant, aud iu favor of the nomination of William Den nison, of Ohio, for Vice-President. Reso lutions were adopted declaring the hope that the entire Republican party would unite on the reuomination of President Grant, and declaring William Dennison to he tho first choice of the Republicans^ of Ohio for Vice-President, and commending him to the Republicans of the nation. Tho twenty-seventn ot March was chosen as tho time loir holding the State convention.