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i V ' A II Vl -urn, Mm, "Vol. IXV. wMtatunumiHMiiu'tuinnmnuufiiMiuitTicmrjttf iterate. Frnm tie Soother Illustrated Newi. THE BLUE FLOWERS. The bee loves mere than all bee and I we lee it. both, Th;mru. it ib frail and small." 4 On jolly, jolly 1' Tint M-as Apgie French's way of ex- pressng satisiaetiew, and ner companion lookc! up, expectant of news. 4 Mv letWr is from Geoiaia Ash ' she explained. You must have heard of j her, the handsomest hlondt you ever j saw, eyes half blue, half amber, and hair neither br- wn, nor yellow, nor red, but just exactly gold. The fun is Thorne used to be in love with h?r before he knev little Alice Devon, and thay said lu- jilted Lira it wan 1: 1-fore he came to his fortune for a richer suitor. Any way, she isn't married, and it will be cu rious to see how Thome will take her presgnce here in this house, Where there are so few of us that we can't help being intimate. Of course he can't run away and leave 'Alice, and we shall pee what we shall seo when my LidylMapnificenco comes. For tny part, I never did believe first love a disease quite so easy to get over a3 mumps and measles. I'm told Thorne htd.it hard. I like stories in re al life a great deal better than out of bcoks ; they'ro twice as spicy 1 proui the ro- ise myself rare an in watching tnance. Just then Alice came in, so radiantly happy. Her brown hair tossed &bout her primrose cheeks, her soft, innocent brown eyes sparkled with pleasure, and a few rare wild flowers in ber hand, . ' Thorne was behind her, looking on as she exhibited her treasures, with - a smile and an eye-gLnce which revealed more than, ho was aware of love nd pride. 'See,' cried the soft, clear iones, you've been hunting in vain for these -little beauties all' summer, and we've found them: Do you -s.usil the sea breath in thera? We so; wards the waves, and at h eh tide the water comes up among the loots. How blue they are, just like a bit of the sum mer sky 1 I'm going for them often, and since they are mine by right of discove ry, I call them treasttrciove, for I don't like those polysyllable botmy uaoies.' She and Thorno were hatpy enough, both of them, to havo moved any lender heart to let them dream on. But Aggie French's neart was not tender not that she was so very cruel,but thoughtless, fond of fun, and a little careless what wounds her self-indulgence might inflict. She looked wickedly into Thome's eyes and said: I had a letter from an old friend of yours this morning .Miss Georgiana Ash. Sho is coming here to-day or to morrow. She does not know she will, meet you. What a pleasant surprise it will bol' 4 Ah ! I haven't seen her for five years. She used to be a stylish, handsome girl. I wonder if she's faded?' When they came together again from their afternoon walk, Thorne and Alice, soma truuks were in the hall, with A. painted in black letters upon their covers. ' . 4 The new guest, I suspect,' Alice said lightly. Thorn was too self-conscious to Teply. He bit his lips and was silent. When Aggie French heard him going bv her door, after he had left Alice, she put her head out with a malicious whis- per: one s come oecn wiin me a ccupie of hours. Now she's in her room dress ing (or tea.' It was iust at sunset when all the par- tv before mentioned ana a nan aozen more were gathered in the low, old-fash- ioned parlor, ready to go in to supper. Mary Everett, wno naa never Deiore met Miss Ash, looked at her critically as she rt . . I 1 ! tood beside little Alice Devon : the two having iust been introduced to each oth t r by Thorne, who, whatever he might have betrayed, when taken by surprise, was perfectly self possessed tow. There was no disputing that the new comer was the handsomest woman at Tha RKrtfita Tt w.a a orand. rental style, which swayed a power of its own. A mw rj , n plexiOD,1 ,Kh & col,rinS c.. .nd bright as dawn : the great magnetic eyes ; x,ne tawnv cold hair, filling the silken net f ill ; the mouth so ripe and tempting j.il these, with the self understanding, the aplomb ot twenty-five years In that stately presence little Alice Devon, with her seventeen years and her primrose face, looked unformed and childish. But there was eome'hing about her moat sweet and tender and touching, which made Mary Everett think of a rose-bud with the morning dew still on it; and glancing back to the other, she hummed, half under her breath, ft snatch of an old nursery song : Raleigh, . The sunflower with her brilliant crown, Looked lovely aad tempting to the bee; Yet not one drop of honey he onnd In her wonder cup of gold and brown She was false at heart, though fair to see.' Aggie French had not arrived at the entire truth about the reparation between Miss Ash and Howard ThorneV She had not jilted him.. They had given each other up mutually. It was the fortieth lover's quarrel, perhaps; for Miss Ash wa3 of a tempestuous temperament, and Thorne not over patient. It was the one too many, at any -rate, for they had nev er made it up, and five years have passed without seeing each other. la the mean time, some of Thome's relations had died and left him a fortune, making him bet ter worth winning. Miss Aggie was mistaken.-too, in thinking that her friend came t& 4 The Shoals,', without knowing that-her old lover was there. No allu sion to the knowledge had escaped her in her letter.; but the certainty of meet ing him had been' her sole-motive. To 'do her justice, she did not know of his engagement. She learned that for the first time in her two hours with Miss French before tea. It dismayed her not a little. It was an obstacle, sh haA nnt foreseen, and she did not feel entire faith now in the success which had seem ed so certain before. . When they were introduced she had looked at Alice anxiously. She was not blind to the youth and freshmss against which she must contend. She acknowl edged to herstlf that the girlish face,' with the bunch of blue flowers (the treasure-trove) in the ft hair, had a sweet charm of its own. She almost despaired not quite. For some days she held herself rather aloof from Howard Thorne and his little betrothed. When anj thing brought her in contact with them,. she was play ful sometimes, sometimes a little reserved and sad, though kind always. There was so much variety in her moods that Thorne grew interested before he- knew it in watching them. He began to realize, now he observed mere closely, how roy ally bfq ntlfnl (Via wao CV V, Vl i, by her smile. Her manner had changed too. She had been imperious then she was so still at times; but oftener there was a tender, half-pathetic softness in her words and ways which made him think she had grown sadder with the sad years. Had her life missed him ? There wTas a subtle flattery in the thought ngainst which his vanity was not proof. He was not untrue toward hi3 little love in all these speculations at least not consciously ; but they were danger ous vary dangerous one day when he suffered himself, sitting idly and alone on the piazza, to wonder what would, have been the result of his meeting again' with Miss Ashe if he had never seen Al ice. - Just then she came up in her loveliest mood. Tenderness in a person to whom nature has given the seal of sovereignty,' moves us far more than in those gentle persons to whom it seems indigenous. She looked sad, this Lady Magnificent, as Aggie French had dubbed her. She was simply dressed, in a robe of fleecy white, with a few flowers stuck for sole ornament in belt and bosom. Her eyes were downcast There was a stain as of tears on her cheeks. Some impulse hes should havaresisted drew Thorne to her side. Are there moments in all lives when our good angels forsake us ? Half unconsciously he said to her.: 4 Mis Ah Georeiana, we were friends once. I do not to see you sad.' The great amber eyes turned on him a look of tnuto reproach. After a mo ment she said, with a trifle of the old pet ulance: I do not like to have my moods notic ed. It is not generous of you, with all vou want in life, to look out from the sare shelter of vour hanniness and watch il . " - - - - how I bear loneliness and heartache. 4 All I want in life V He repeated the words after her dream ily, as if he were questioning: himself whether indeed he had what he wanted in life. The past seemed to throb again in his heart tingle in his pulses. Were the days dead in which he had been this woman's lover ? They had turnei, mechanically as it were, and were pass ing down the shaded path which she had lor a while neither spoke. What subtle magnetism was in her presence that made it thrill him so just to walk by her side? He look at her at length. She was the lips, and slow tears were from under drooping lids. A stole a pale to -stealing sudden, mad impulse swayed him a wild long ing to read her heart. He put out his hand and touched hers. He spoke with a tone that would be obeyed. 4 What is it ? I will know. Is it any thought of the past, of me, which moves jyou?' . She turned her eyes full of reproach I upon him. t 1ST. G., October 26, 1863. "What right have you, jUise, Deton's lover, to the past or rat Be content wilh your own j-jy. It -t.ould be pi- qu.int enough without toe lal of enhanc- ing it by contrast with my misery. The mention of Alfce Tjpci struck a pang, sword-keen, to his t Art. He was not a -bad man ; nay, he jT-as perhaps better than mo.Jt m.eu. f j respected bis plighted word he love-l'Alice. StiU he. had not trength eno ih to escape from the baleful spell whid .was closing round him. Yonr misery !' he crie.' vDo you wh im all the'werld envies. sr,0"3V what misery means ? Tell me.nll know Again that I nig, reproac; : i look from out those amber eyes. Howard, for share e ! Y; must not, you shali n3t torture- 4ui no Vr when all the ties between us are ovv. Do. you think I would haVe parted vilh you in anger that hst timo if I had pot thought your love was strong enoughs; bring jou back? We were both wron'.-we ought to have ior2i en each othei- But why talk of it? You are belle, and I perhap&-I ii hot punished Vo severely for 'tha sharo of blame that . vs. mine.1 . Thoughts swam through h;. brain3 de liriously. She, his youth'i ove,' loved him was suflc?ing for bin -had loved him all the while. He lotd at. her, more beautiful than ever in er sorrow, her tenderness. After all, v 3 not the old iove the true love? r If I were free' he begp.n. ' Of what use would be rt$jm V she interrupted him passionately. You were free five years.' , 4 But 1 t!id not sec you. C'i, Georgiel this is cruel. . Yon should h? X come be fore, or not at all.' j Just then steps crushed tVsinu near them. Around a suuden t rn in tae ictt with winding path came Mary E Alice, his Alice, clinging to bin rm. ' 4 We heard a few words v,)uld net help it,' Miss Lrerett sard, wr-, ey;s of stem rebuke, leadiug.ber frietl by, Howard Thome cursed m V- j as he the shade y." c( death. He-k&J' ho'w his heart was saw what brief madness had possessed him. He would have given half the universe to be able to &o to Al ice's side and tell her the truth. . But he dared not approach her. For the first lime in his life he felt like a coward. He stood and watched her, silently. as she moved away his darling, whsno he had been mad enough to lose. Then he turn edf with a look in his eye that made Georgiana Ash tremble. 4 1 am free now ; and, as you said, of what use is freedom V . - Neither spoke again until his cold geod by, when he had gone up the path with her to the house-door. i": Then he rushed back into the thick shrubbery, among the rocks,-; across to the sea. He was almost wild, enough to bury all wrong, sorrow, shame in those treacherous waters. He knew his fate was sealed. There would be no hope for him. Alice was not unforgiv ing ; but she was true, and claimed truth a woman, and would accept no divided heart. Explain as be would, he knew she would never believe Jiim or under stand him. She never could know how Jt ail came ; and if he offered explana tions, she would believe that only honor, only sorrow for her, held him ; and those aad moments could neven be atoned for. Just then he turned. He was stand ing in the very nook where they - had gathered the blue flowers Some others, their sisters, were nodding in the cleft. He gathered a bunch and laid them care fully in a pocket-book, which he ' carried in his bieast. 4 They shall go with me into other fcenes,' he said, his sad eyes kindling again with the gleam of a new resolve. 4 1 have held back from giving my life . i o my country because Alice's love made the offering too costly. Now I will go It will be better for me if I die.' . He found a note on his table when he went home, and in it these words only : 4 Be merciful enough not to write to me, or ask to see me. It would be of no use. What I heard, what I saw, can never be explained out of memory. I forgive you. 1 do not think you meant false. When you told me you loveid me i benevea you tnougat so. i snail go away to-night, and leave ycu to the love jou have found again.' He obeyed her ; made no useless at tempts at explanation, and watched from his window to see her go away with a calmness more terrible and despairing than any passion of agony. Later in the evening came another note ; from Miss Ash this time. It was worded, oh ! 6o skillfully ; begging his pardon ; telling him how innocent she was of wrong design ; blameless of eve rything but the love and sorrow she could not help, and the letting him speak to her at all a ammuamassiateuMmmm Howard Thorne smiled grimly as he twisted her soft words and lighted his cigar with them. All her blandishments were powerless now. No device of hers could move him, steeled to vindictive ness by the look of white pain he had seen on Alice Devon's face. He made no response. The next morning he, too, went away. Somehow, even Aggie French's heart was touched by his hopeless, dreary smile as. rbade her good-bye. Cer tainly the Lady Magnificent's visit had not ben productive of the expected 4 fun.' Miss Everett had gone away the night before with Alice, and 4 The Shoals' bad fail, to be presently deserted. All that was last year the summer of '62. It was September when Howwrd Thorne found 'himself a soldier, with the commission, urged upon him half against his will, of first Lieutenant.' He was with the army of the Rappahannock, and before the summer came again he had seen herd fighting, and held a Colo nel's rank by virtue of his cool courage- Courage, did I ga-y ? Recklessness, per-hapvs-ould "have -told the truth more nearly. He wanted to dieand so took every poAible opportunity to throw away the life of which he was weary. 'Fcr that reason,, perhaps, hot and shell passed him by. Ever in the front, and no ball hit him. They began to say he bore a charmed life when they saw him with no scar on jpis bronzed, handsome face. At last came Gettysburg and the bul let which sought bis heart ! It was turned aside a little by a bok he wore: the book which held the blue treasure trove so, that, ghastly and terrible as was his wound, it was not instantly mor tal. There was small hope for him, however; and one who loved him as a brother asked, when there was leisure after the ficht if there was any one for whom he would wish to send. All his pale face brightened gloriously. This was the hour for which he had longed and waited. He dedicated only these believe wtiat I tinrt-w :uw j u know it is my last word3.' This, with the address of Alice Devon on the cover. ". J?hen he waited.. Five days were the least possible time in which, .allowing for no delays, she could get the letter and come to him. He thought his strong will would keep him alive so long. On the evening of the fifth day he lay with his face toward th6 wall. Wrapped in thought, and tortured with searching pain, he heard no footfall, heard noth ing, until a low, remembered voice, said, 4 1 am here.' Then he turned his face, and saw Alice Devon at his pillow. He waited for no greeting, no inquiries, but spoke the uppermost thought first: " 4 Alice, I did love you only you. That scene which you could not under stand was a momentary madness. She touched me with her misery hints of the long, hopeless love she had cherish ed for me all those year3. I was moved on the surface only. I tell you, as a dy- man, that my heart never wavered. It was yours then, as it is now as it will be when I go back whence I came, to darkness and mystery.' 4 1 believe you, said the low, sweet tones. I began to believe it when I heard of her marriage, six months after. I knew she had been disappointed, and I had been wrong and hasty.' 4 No, not wrong ; you bad reason enough. You shall not blame yourself. I never blamed you. But are you free ? Is this my Alice at my side ?' 4 Your Alice ; yours, and none other s 4 Then I shall die content.' Through all the hours of that night she sat beside him, holdinchis hand in hers, charming away his pain by her voice and her touch. When the dawn crept softly up the slopes, and kindled the eastern sky to flame, he was sleeping a calm, restful sleep, for the first time in all those days since he was wounded ; and the surgeon coming in, and standing watchfully beside him for a. while, said. as he turned away : . 4 1 dare riot give you much hope, but I begin to think think it just possible that he may live.' A little later, he awoke, and still Al ice's hand was in his. He turned to look at her dear face, and saw a new light in the tender brown eyes. She bent over him and kissed him. in tbemornms twi light through which the sun had not yet broken, and with her kiss she whispered: 4 The surgeon has been here, and he says it is possible you may live. Will you, try, for me V 4 Ay, that I will,' answered his deep tones, fervently. 4 Life, that I was ready to throw away, is dear eriongh now. It mnst be that I shall get well, now I havo Alice to live for. Pray for it, my dar ling. God will hear " such lips as youre.' Last week an invalid came bock. His face was thin and pale, but his eyes were bright; and on that worn face was a look of hard-won peace. . By easy stages he journeyed heand the one friend with him to the sra coast, and took his old rooom at 4 The Shoals' ooce more. He 'und there eld frisnds and new ones, all ready to give Colonel Ihoipe glad wel- " ceme. It was Alice's care which had won him back from death. He was all hers now, and' be: ween them could never again come any shadow. To-morrow, -at c The Shoals,' will be a wedding, and the bride will wear a wreath of little 4 blue flowers.' A Lesson for the South. .The Polish insurrection is still raging. Telegraphic advices report a great victo- ry at Kanow, on which side, it is not stated. The foregoing is an item of "foreign news copied frum Northern papers ofethe 9th instant, which conuin European "at?s to the 24th Aug. It rcTcals the fact that after a sanguinuy contest of six ir.ot.tha duration, the Polish revolution still rears its form, erect and defiant, against the gigantic powers of Kuss;a. Ltt us for a moment glance at the rel ative power and reouices of ihe b-Hig-ero-.tj. Poland has an area of 48,000 tquare miles or ten thousand square miles less than the single Sute of Geor gia. " Her population, inibuni numbers, is five millions, and the revolution found them without uiilitgrv organization with few arms and with pecuniary re sources absolutely less than those of the State of Georgia. Russia, on the other hand, boasts of an area, exclusive of Po Jand, of over tw o millicn square miles "a population tf over sixty itiihons, a regular army of seven hundred thousand men, with niilitnry appointments equal to those of any nation on the face cf the earthy We, in the South, groan over the dis parity in material strength between our selves and the LincotrV .despotism but what is Uiis. disparity con pared with that Russia outnumbers Kotaud twelve to ouI Lincoln, with all his absolutism, cinnot avail nimself of the full military strength of the North. The Russian autocrat can- ' put half his millions in the array. The North has a regular force of 15,000. Russia has a regular force of 700. COO. We have yet a country of COO, 000 square miles, difficult of . access by the enemy necessitating long and hazardous Hues of communication affording very inade quate means of subsistence to the foe more or less unhealthy and impassable during a greater part of the year aboun ding in positions of great natural apti tude for defense. Poland, upon the oth er hand, is shut up in a territory nearly a fifth smaller than Georgia alone, dense ly populated, and all the elements of supply as accessible to foe as to friend. But perhaps .you think Poland is an inaccessible . country surrounded bj high mountain ranges, with a few and easily defensible passes. Not so. She has no natural barriers whatever, and may be pronounced a comparatively level country. Furthermore, a great railway runs from the capital of Russia directly through her territory. How, then, has the been able so long to baffle the designs of her gigantic oppressor ? In no other way, we believe, than by the simple he toism of htr people. Years of opj rcssion, under a grinding foreign tyranny, have wrought up her people to the unconquerable determina tion to die or be free. The iron has en tered their souls, and made every man, woman and child a hero. We may take it for granted there is no speculation no hoaiding for higher pi ices no skulking or d ;sertion in that country. Every man an 1 woman is fight ing and laboring lor liberty as something, dearer than life itself- Tee conditions of the dreadful struggle seem to us im possible!. Poland must again sink mora hopelessly crushed than ever unde a for eign y(Jke. : But as desperate as are the chances, we believe "there are, very few CToakers and prophets of evil among tru Poles. They have counted the cosu and made up their minds to the sacrifice. In the face of such a spectacle as this do not our own conduct and achieve ments appear most trifling ? If the Poles do not despair, should we ever doubt? If they, have a possibility of success, have we a possibility of failure outside of a lack of spirit and energy absolutely disgraceful to us as a people t If.we had been ground down by oppress ion as the Poles have been, and as we shall be, should the North bring us un der its yoke, the spirit of the people would laugh to scorn the possibility of failure would show in a month that sub jugation by the North is a physical im possibility. With tho tire and patriotism of the Poles, we should have had tips r a and independence two years ag6. r t. T T- "V.