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I .Machinery, together v. ith a force of compc tent anil skilll'iil workmen, we fee! that our fa cilities art: t;con'l to tlm-e of no other establish ment in Hie lacc. VOLUME I. PAlXESVIJLIiE, LAKE COUNTY, OHIO, SATURDAY, MAY 11, 1872. NUMBER 44. NORTH HIO JOURNAL. "AHLfDRED YEARS TO CO.TIE." " Who'll press for gold this crowded street, A hundred years to come? Who'll tread yon church with willing feet, A hundred vears to eomeV Pale, trembling age, and Hery youth. And childhood with hi" brow of truth. The rich and poor, on land on sea. Where will the mighty million be A hundred years to eonieV " We all within our graves shall sleep . JL hundred ye.ira tv come; , - , , V livnigoiil funis -will weep, A hundred year to come; But other men our land will till. And others then our streets will fill. And other birds will sing as gay, And bright the sunshine as to-day, A hundred years to come." .111. BV MBS. A. I.. Kl-TEB It"FOUB. The sweetest of all May is here. i- i'ao last ever Kv(i toe dcis . . - .ttrr and hawthorn blossom dear - - tiarland her brow and robe and ve-t. Over the hills, down in the dells. In meadows, wildwood, by every stream, Are swung ber dnintv. perfumed bells. That charm breezes to linger and dream. From emerald bowers and budding wood A iovful roundelay is heard, As when the Ways of " Kobin Hood" . ;. IT yj Jy mystic nines the greenwood stirred. When rovalty went forth to greet The merrv symbols of sweet May, And hearts kept time with dancing feet, Where sylvan queens held gleeful sway. Thli is the young years' coronal. When bliishiug into maidenhood ; And now the tender pastoral Ui lover can not be withstood. , Bo, reaching forth her rosy palm, " Proud summer clasps It firm anil fond; The pastoral changing to a psalm Of hope, glides in the far beyond. Were there no Stay, no glad, sweet time, For fragrant burst of leaf and flow'r, Life would be void of half its prime, And reft of beauty's loveliest dow'r. But every vear and every heart Is blest with one sweet, happy May, Round which dear niem'ries ne'er depart, Whose odors never pass away. TELL. ?1K HOW . BY B. H. 8TODDAK.D. " You vow yen love me, dearie" So many a man might vow; But now, lietbre I trust you, Suppose you tell ine how? ' " I love voitas the wiud does" The beauteous summer rose." :MX I know; he stoop to snatch a kiss, """" And then away he goes. Xo wind's love forme, Kir; 1 can not be your rose." I love you as the bee does The purple meadow clover." j " I know: hedrains it of its sweets. And then it day is over. No bee's love for me, Sir: I will not be your clover." " I love you as a lady does Herwreaihof orange ilower." . " 1 know: she onlv wears it once, . ' TV; To grace ho bridal hour. Xo lady's love for me, bir; I'm not your orange Ilower," " I love you as a man does The woman he lovos best." " 1 know: a pretty plaything, she. To wear upon his breast. Mill--if there's nothing better--I like man's love the best. " io, if you love me, darling - , (But do you really, now?) Hero Is the kis I promised--Becauso you told me how." The sweet south wind so long Sleeping in other climes on sunny sea", Or uallving with the orange trees In the bright land of song; Wakes unto us and laughingly sweeps bv, Like a glad spirit of the sunlit sky. 1 ' ' ' The lalorer at his toil Keelson his cheek its dewy kiss, and lifts Hi opca brow to catch its fragrant gifts The aromatic spoil Borne from the blossoming garden of the south. While iu faint sweetness lingers round his month. The bursting buds look up And greet the suulight, while it lingers yet On the warm hillside, and the violet Onena ber azure eun Sleekly, and couutlcss wild flowers wake to Theirearlier license on the gales of Spring . The reptile, that hath lain -Torpid so long within his wintry tomb, I'ierees the mould, ascending from its gloom lfn to the liirht airain: And the little snake crawls forth from caverns chill, To bask as erst upon the sunny hill. Continual songs arise From universal nature: birds and streams Mingle their voices; and the glad earth seems . i . A nAcAnrl Puradisel '. v . Thrice blessed Spriug! thou Dearest gifts divine: u ki. i ....... .. .1 r,a.Finiii nil irn thine! DUUBiiiuo, n.ivi wifij ". ..0. . " Xor unto earth alone I irhiui lid.. hiftssinfr for the biimau heart. Bairn for Its wounds, and healing for its smart, Telling or w inter nown, And bringing hope upon thy rainbow wing, Type of eternal life thrice blessed Spring1. The Test of the Heirs; OR The Secret of Randolph Atohejr, " ' . 'BY THE AUTHOR OF ; ' "The Wrecker's Daughter;" "The Detect ive't Story," "The Maid of Arline,' etc., etc. ' " CHAPTEB XIX. (coixued.) WILL return in one moment but I must go and take care of clear old nurse, wno l see lias fallen asleep on tiie bank. must cover her with my cloak, and then I will at once come back." He merely bowed his head iu token of assent, and she glided away, leaving him to resraiu the strensrth that seemed an nrterlv to have abandoned hi in ' When Lilias had returned, she found that her thoughtful consideration had lu-oduced the desired effect. Sydney' (countenance was once more stamped with the severe calm which was its won led expression. He at once resumed the singular detail to which she was called to listen, with a rapid and ener getic brevity which showed that he was as one 'on the" Tack; till he could bring liis history to a conclusion "The period which followed that wonderful hour,' he said, "was one of lnn Eden-like happiness, such as, I be lieve, this fallen world could never be fore have witnessed. It was the embod iment in every hour and instant, of that blessing o which my Aletheia had so ferventlv spoken the spiritual union which linked us in heart and soul alone was as perfect as it was unearthly, and the intense bliss which flowed from it, on both of us, could only have been equalled by the love, no less intense, that made us what we were, "But Lilias, of tliis brief dream of deep delight I will not and I cannot speak. This is a record of misery and not of joy" he continued, turning round upon her almost fiercely. "It becomes not me, who have been the murderer of Aletheia's fovous life, to take so much as the name of liappiness between my lips. It passed it. denarted. that iov. as u spirit de parts out of the body, unseen, unheard. Vou know not it is gone, till suddenly you see that the beautiful living form has become a dark and ghastly corpse ! and so, in like manner, our life be came a hideous tiling. i i : . "Colonel Randolph nsked me to go on un embassy to a distant town. The absence was to bo but a fortnight. We were to write daily to one another, and ve thought nothing of it. Nevertheless, in one sense, we felt it to be momentous, Aletheia designed, if an opportunity occurred, to inform her father of the change in her existence, and the irrevo--nlile fate to which she had consigned herself. She had delayed doing so hitherto, because his mind had been fearfully disturbed by griveous disap pointments in public affairs, and as ho avns a man of neculiarlv sensitive temper ament, she would not add to his dis ? tress by the announcement of the fact, ihleh she knew he would consider the rrrout misfortune of his life. It was im possible, indeed, that the doting father could fail to mourn bitterly over the sacrifice of llis own beloved daughter, to the man who darod not so much as give liei" barren life Uie protection of his name, lest haply, he wed her ton mani- "it. was in two days of my proposed return to their home that an express nme in fiery haste to tell me that col Randolph had fallen from his horse, had received a mortal injury, end was dying. 1 was summoned instantly. He bad said he would not die in peace unless he saw roe. One hurried line from Aletheia, iu addition to theald-de-camp'g letter, told how even in that awful hour I was first and last in iter thought. It was thus : 'He is ou his death-bed. and I have told him all. I could not let him die un knowing the consecration of his child to one so worthy of her. But alas ! I know I uot tv by.it seem almost to have madden ed.him. lie says he will tell you all. Come then with all speed.' lu two hours I was by the side of the dying man. Aletheia was kneeling with her arms around him, and he was gaz- ing at her with sombre, mournful fond- ness. The instant lie saw me he pushed her from him. 'Go,' lie said, 'I must see this man alone.' The epithet startled I me. 1 saw he was tilled with a bitter j wrath. His daughter obeved. She rose and left the room, but as she passed me sue took my Hand, ana bowing herseir as. to her master, pressed it to her lips then turning round she said, 'Father, re member what I have told you, he ia mine own forever. Xot even your death bed curse could make me falter ia my vow.' He 'groaned -aloud 'So' curse, j c&ad father witness I have labored ac tio curse, my child he said, 'fear not-1 cording to his will, and what has been it is not you whom I would curse. Come I kiss me, we may pernaps not, meet I. again, and if you And me dead at yonr i return ' lie waited till she had closed the door, then added, 'say that Richard Sydney killed me, and you will speak the truth ! Madman, madraan,in deed ! W hat is it you have done ? was it for this 1 took you into my home, and was to yon a father? That you might slay my daughter that you might make such havoc of her life as is worse than a thousand deaths?' "1 would have spoken he fiercely In terrupted me. 'I know what you would say that she gave herself to you that she offered this oblation of a whole ex- istence but I tell you, if one grain of justice or generosity had been within your coward heart, you would have iluug yourself from over that precipice, ana so absolved ner irom ner vow. ' rather than let her immolate herself to a doom so horrible for you know not ! yourself, what is that doom ! Yes, poor wretch,' he added more gently, yon know not what vou did, but I know and now will I tell. I, who have watched over the soul of Aletheia Randolph for well nigh twenty years, know well of hat fire it is made. I tell you I have long foreknown that there was a capacity ol love in ner which is most awrui, and hlch would most Infallibly work her I utter woe, except its ardent immensity found a perpetual outlet in the many ties which weave themselves around a happy wife and mother. And now, oh ! was there none to nave mercy on ner, and save her noble heart and life from such destruction this soul of name, fathomless as the deep, burning and uotless as the noonday sky. hath (tone forth to fasten itself upon a desolating, barren, mournful love, where, hunger- ng ever alter happiness, and never led, will be driven to insanity or ueatni Yes, I tell you, it will be so. My de parting spirit is almost on my lips, and my words must be few, but they are words ot loaiiui trutn. juauiy uji.it, and I know that thus it will be. One day's separation from you, whom the world will never admit to be ner own one cloud upon your brow, which she has uot the power to disperse, will woric in her a torment that will sap her noble mind, and make her, haply, the luna tic, and you you, discendant of . the maniac Sydney, ner keeper: un, wnat had she done to you that you should hate her so? Oh, wherefore have you cursed her, my iuuocent child, my only daugh ter?' I fell on my knees, I gasped for breath. Lilias, I felt that every word he said were true, that all would come to pass as he portrayed, for he spoke I with the prophetic truth or tne dying- He saw my utter agony. Suddenly he lifted himself up in the bed, and the movement broke the bandage on his head, whence the blood streamed sud denly with a destructiyc violence, but he heeded It not, and grasped my arm witn the last energy of lite. 'i see you are in torments,' nesaia, and fitlv so. But if you have this much of grace left, now at least, to suffer, it may be that every spark of justice is not dead within you, and mat you win save her vet.' ' " " 'Save her:' l almost snneicea. .,'ies, if bv any means upon this earth such blessing be possible 1 - Shall I die? I am ready on I now ready.' 'JNO. to die were but to carry ner in to your grave,' the cruel voice replied. But living I believe that you may save her. From what I know of that noble child's pure bouI, I do believe that' you may save her yet. Man I wno nas been her curse and mine, will you swear to do so by any means I may command ?' '1 will swear.' was my answer, anu his glazing eyes were suddenly lit up with a tierce deugnt. -a no now.'- i cried. "'Thus.' he answered, drawing me close to him. and nutting his lips to my ear. 'By rendering yourself hateful to her! To quit her were to bid her lament you unto the death, but 6jy her very side to render yourself abhorent to her. Thus shall vou save her! "Vou have sworn remember you have sworn ! Go! when I am dead, give up that. voice and iook or love; put on a stern aspect; treat her as a cruel task-master treats a slave; be harsh; be merciless; tell her the love she bears yon, by its depth of passion, has become a crime,and you have vowed to crush it out of her ; but say not I com- manded it ; let her believe it is your own free will ; punish her for that love; let her think you hate her for it; trample her soul between your haughty feet ; let her hear naught but bitterest words see naught but sternest looks feel najiight but a grasp severe and torturing to tear her clinging arms from around vou ! so shall you save her, for she will suffer but a little while at first, and then will leave you to bo forever blessed ; so snail you crush ner love, and send ner out from your heart to seek a better. Sydney, you have sworn to do it you have sworn !' "He repeated the words with fearful vehemence, for life was ebbing with the blood that flowed. Gathering up bis last energies, he shrieked into my jears 'say that you have sworn ! answer, or mv spirit curses you iorever:' and I answered 'I have sworn !' "He burst into a laugh of awful tri umph, sank back and expired. "Lilias, I have kept that vow I At these words, uttered in a hoarse and ominous tone, wnicu seemed to Con vey a volume of fearful meaning, a cold shiver crept over the frame of the young l.liias a.liorror unspeaKaoic tooK po- session of her, as the veil seemed sud deniy lifted up from the mysterious agency which had mado Aletheia's life, even to the outward life, a mere embodi mcut oi perpetual sufferlug, and ner deep and womanly appreciation of what ner unnappy cousin had endureu,causeu ber to shrink almost in fear, from the wretched man by her side, who had thus been constrained to become the cruel tyrant of her he loved so fondly, But nc spMjKc ugmu ui.auuii urok.cn, laiteruiK accents, that her heart once more swelled with pity for him. "ies, Lilias, l kept that fearful vow, the grasp ot the dead man's hand which even as he stiffened into a mass of sense less clay, still locked my own as with an iron grasp, seemed to have bound it on my soul, and I, alas! believed in the ef ficacy of this means for the restoration from the destructive madness of her love for such an one as I. I believed I should thus save her, and turn her pure afl'ec tions to a salutary hate. Yes, with en erf?y with fierce determination I did keep that vow, because it was to bind myself with such untold tortures, that it seemed a righteous expiation, and who,t, oh, what has been the result! Her father thought he knew her. He thought the intensity of her tenderness would brave insanity to death, bat not hatred and contempt! and he knew her not. in her nnparralelled generosity! for behold her glorious devotion has trampled even my contempt under foot, and has risen faithful, all-perfect as before. "Oh, Lilias, I cannot tell you the de tails of the cruelties I have perpetrated on her redoubled, day by day, as I saw them all fall powerless he fore her match less love. I told her that because of its intensitr, her affection had become a crime, for one whose eternal abiding place was not within this world, and that it inspired me with horror.and with wrath. And since she had taken me for her master, as her master, I would drive this passion from her soul, by even the sternest means that fancy conld devise, and then I dare not tell you all that I have done, but she, with her imploring voice, Iter tender, mournful eyes, for- ever answered mat h sne were nateiui to me, 1 had better leave her, only with me should go her love, her life, her very soul! Alas! alas! I could not leave her until my fearful task was done. I have labored oh, let the spirit of that the result of it all? Lilian,' he spoke wun Buuuen nerceness, -j. nave nearly erusnea ine lire eat or ner, out not ine tovei uie pure, aevotea, oounuiess love is there, still, true and tender as before, only it abides my torture, day and night chained to rack by these cruel hands." Me buned his face in his knees, and a strong convulsion shook bis frame. Lili as laid her hand on his arm r'Be calm," she said, "for Aletheia's sake, , be calm. Now do I know and understand it all, and there is not a mo ment to be lost. If you have said truly that the life is expiring within her, we must save her." 'Yes, yes!" he replied, stretching out. his shaking hands toward her,"save her! oh! save her! for this I have told you all.' But how, what is to be done? except she know the fearful vow that is upon me, sne never wouiu miucrsiuiiu that I do love her in very deed and truth I, her cruel task-master with a love that has suflered more yes, I dare to sav it more even than she has done. But how is she to know it : 'The vow is yet upon me, and my lips sire sealed." sut mine are not, saiu juntas. -i have made you no promise not to tell her all you have now told me, and she shall be told! From the first moment that I gathered the real truth of your position with regard to her, I saw in this means a solution of your fearful difficul ty I saw a better chance of saving her. Little, tndced, did her father, or did you, comprehend the woman's heart, if you thought thus to kill the love once given. Be very certain, all the happiness she ever can know upon this earth, must come from your answering tenderness. She will be faiihful, come what may, onlv it is vours to crown that beautiful devotion with torment or with joy. There may yet be a hope a little time for peace ineffable will haply bless her love yet on earth, when she shall learn, poor, noDie, gentle victim, that you nate her not, but love her love her truly, al most as she deserves. I go I go this day at once to reveal the whole dark mystery to ner. JNone shall binder me; and when, after my disclosure, conceal ment on your part were a mockery, you will come and put out to ner an yonr heart's deep tenderness, till joy and hope returns unto that life and she is saved." Lilias arose while she spoke, as though she could not wait another instant, to fly upon that errand of mercy, and Syd ney springing from the ground,tollowed her, with every nerve quivering with emotion. He saw hope in her words the first for months. He seemed to have no power to thank her, only his eloquent look besought her indeed to hasten. He essayed in vain to speak, until they reached the spot where his horse awaited him, and tnen as tney were about to separate, he exclaimed, with a vehemence which caused his voice to ring through the silent air- Dear Lilias. now can x tuanK you tor having come to me a very vision of joy and mercy have you been to me ! but, oh, let me see you soon again, itemem- ber, I scarce shall live or breathe until that houi" soon, soon, in pity, meet me soon again "I will. Fear not very, very stiortlj-, I hope to be with you once more, and bring you tidings of the deepest joy. And now, farewell, be strong and trust to me." He responded by a looktrt passionate thanks, sprang on his norse, anu ms appeared. " And Lilias. summoning her nurse, took her way homeward. But from the spot where they stood, as their last words were spoken, there went one faint gasp one low, deep sigh. CILPTER XX. Yes, one faint ' sigh one low, deep gasp, and all was still. For like the last breath that dies on the lips when life is ended, this mournful sound was, indeed a death-sigh the death-sigh of all human happiness, as it forever expired in tne heart of Aletheia Knndolph. 1 es, she had been there lying down among the long grass, and hidden by the thick bushes. I he horse that ear- j iied Kicliard Sydney had passed within one yarti oi ner, as nc tieparxeu irom ins interview with Lilias, and he little knew with what a spasm of desire she had longed, in that awful moment,that those trampling ' hoofs might come with their iron tread upon her heart, and beat the throbbin g life out of it forever. sne nfld oeen there ! Oh ! let it be considered for an instant what these wonjs Imply. There not when Syd ner had revealed to Lilias the workings of" his own passionate heart, writhing beneath the two-fold bonds of the death bed vow, and his overwhelming love for herself but there, when she had only heard the words he had addressed to her cousin as they parted, which by a fated coincidence, so perfectly agreed with the talse information oaonei s mother had given her, as to the motive of their interview. Aletheia had at first altogether dis credited this woman's iniquitous tale, and actually disbelieved the possibility of such a meeting, and it was, therefore, to convince herseli whether this state ment was true, that she had come hither that morning, for she felt that,if it were. i. , i :i 1 1,: I : .. . . it iiivuiveu ui luuiae, uie wcuiuimj ui the whole account, and stamped with the aspect of truth the impression her ene my had so skilfully striven to lasten up on her, that she was herseli the one sole obstacle to itichard Sydney's hanpines: The merest fchadow of possibility that this might be the case, rendered it, as I she conceived, important, for his own saKe, tnat sue snouiu auopt tne one only - 1 means she possessed of ascertaining the truth, by watching him tnat morning, I But when she did see him in close, and, - as it seemed, tenderest intercourse with ner cousin, not even tne consciousness that her very life was trembling in the balance, could overcome the sense ot honor which restrained her from going near enougu to near tneir conversation. She would not even look upon them, but lay down on the ground, with her head in the dust, and in the endurance of such terror as seemed to rend the very soul within her terror, that she was about to know to learn by introvertable proof that he to whom she had given her lite and love for whom she had sacrificed every earthly joy and every human tie responded ny no answering anection hut counted the irrevocable gift, which she herself had no power to withdraw, a burden heavy to oo borne a hatelul clog to his own heart's happiness Tl" miserable victim was, as her ene my r :ad said, only too well prepared to believe this it seemed suddenly and naturally ,to explain all that had bfjen in comurchensiable to her in Sydne' 's con duct, ever since he had liegan to act in accordance with the fatal vow, of which she knew nothing. After her father's death, they had not met until she was established at Randolph Abbey-whither she had at once removed as Richard had found that it was beyond bis human strengtn to commence " the system of cruelty to which he was bound, when the blow was yet recent which had de prived her of the parent's sheltering love that might have softened, perhaps, the bitterness of the anguish he was about to inflict upon her. She believed it had been her father's wish that Sydney aud herself should not meet again till she was under her uncle's protection. And this seemed so.natural an arrangment,that she thought nothing of it at the time beyond the pain of the brief separation. Xow, however, the recollection came back upon her, as with a new and terrible signification, that Sydney had spent this interval in Ireland, where his unfortu nate sister was placed, and it seemed to her jealous, breaking heart, but too evi dent that he had there met Lilias Ran dolph met and loved her,as one so pure and beautiful must needs be loved. If so, how simple was now the ex planation of all his torturing severity his harsh and crushing tyranny. He loved ber no more! he loved another! Oh, was it so, was it, indeed, so? As she lay there, with this one awful ques tion racking her inmost soul, it seemed to her, in the mere possibility of such a coming agony, as if the very earth were crumbling beneath her feet the very world passing away, with all that it contained, and only one infinite and dreary waste of desolation spreading it self out before her like the illimitable expanse of waters before the eyes of the drowndiug man. Yet this suspense seemed' almost blessedness, a moment after, when eyen it was gone, and when dull, heavy, cold as the stroke of the ex ecutioner dividiug soul and body, comes the blow that finally and forever sepa rated her from all hope and peace, and possibility of joy upon this earlh. As she lay there, suddenly those foot steps came, whose tread seemed ever on her very heart, and that voice which day and night was echoing low in her faith ful soul, spoke out the words, that were to her iu actual truth, the sentence of her death the words that Sydney ut tered so unconsciously to Lilias, when in the excitement of his gratitude and returning hope he called her by endear ing names aud told her how her coming had been new life to him, and how lie prayed her to return speedily, speedily, to bless him once again. And Aletheia heard Lilias answer, promising so softly to return and bring him good tidings. Good tiding! what were they to be? tidings of her of Aletheia's death? For surely this alone could any prospect of happiness be given to those two who loved one another, and so loving, doubt less hated her. Oh, that they might have these good tidiugs soon. Oh, that they could nave them even now ! For Aletheia never doubted, when she Ilea rd their parting words,that Mrs. Ran dolph's words were true, and she her self, of all earth's living souls most desolate. She heard them aud they parted, and the mercilesshoofs went past and touched her not, and trampled not down her pal pitating frame. And so were they merci less indeed, for sweet and welcome had been that death of violence compared with the horror of the life that was left her. They were gone, and she was alone lying in her pitious, helpless misery, be neath that glorious sky, to which, alas! her earth-bound spirit never yet had turned, and for one moment her heart was convulsed with uncontrolable an guish, as she thought on her own doom In the prime ot youth she lay there, fit ted by every generous gift of nature to be to others "a blessing and herself most blessed with her intense aflection, and her deep, devoted tenderness, and yet how terrible a shipw reck had she made ! Her whole heart's love, and what that love was, this history has already shown her whole entire lite, her very power, capacity and thought, had been lavished upon one, aud that one had flung oacK the gift in her very face, not as worth less only, but as buirdensonie, as unde served. Oh ! iu al this world's treasure house of sorrows, was there one to equal such a consciousness? Her fainting soul contracted as with a deadly spasm at the thought, but this lasted only for a few brief minutes that space was given to her own ruined ex istence, and then the true woman's na ture asserted its indomitable power, and she thought no longer of herself, but of him. Of him! and straightw-ay, out of the chaos of misery in which her soul was plunged, there arose up one thought clear, distinct, and of resistless might, which at once absorbed her whole being and enslaved every faculty in its service. It was the sudden recollection that the happiness of Richard Sydney was in her power, not as she had hoped, in the one blessed dream forever gone, by the un ceasing devotion of her love, but by the withdrawal of herself from his life, his presence, his thoughts, so that she might be to In in, as though she bad never been And all was forgotten in that moment all the sharp and dreary agony of her own utter desolation all the faithless ness of him she could never cease to love while she bent every power of her mind to the performance of this one work which was left to her on earth this building up of his happiness upon her own grave, Jf need be! for, iu the first impulsive energy of her longing to per form tiiis, her' allotted task, it seemed plain to her, that the surest measure of accomplishing it was by her death. Her death! oh! how gladlv, how thankfully would she even had made her own dead body a stepping stone for him, whereby to reach the desire of his heart! But she stood there, a living, breathing being, and in that hour, when she was forever hurled from her strong hold in this world, she dared not quench the half-conscious hope of a purer life in the deadly guilt of suicide. Xo! thus she could not save eveii Richard Sydney, but not the less she resolved, that though she were compelled to live as it were unto herself a piteous, agonizing life, yet j would she die to him. xes: she would, i she could become as dead to him. Site would go forth, it mattered not where, without ever looking on his face again, and he should believe her dead, aud re joice to think that from the ashes of her mouldering corpse should spring tor him a plueiiix-life of new and happier love aud joy. At once Aletheia's resolution was ta ken, even to depart that hour, that in stant, and never again let anyone of those who had known her hitherto be hold her face or hear her voice on earth. The deep, stern determination to do this thing, which how possessed hor mind, seemed to diyve out every other sensa tion, and her whole capability of thought aud action became concentrated on the accomplishment of her purpose. She rose Irom the earth and stood upright, rigid and firm, as though her slight frame had been cast in iron, and she pressed both hands to her throbbing head, while she pondered for a few brief instants on the measures she must take for the execution of her resolve . Where she was to go, was not lor a moment a question with her. It mattered absolu tely nothing on what spot of this weary earth sne laid nerseit down to cue. umy this she determined lor the better secu rity of her complete separation from those who were to believe her dead, that her flight must lie beyond the sea. She would go by the swiftest conveyance to the nearest eoasf, and there embark in the first ship that was prepared to leave England. would she go without re turning to the Abbey? It was what she earnestly desired, but it might not bo. She mint prepare some indication to be left behind her, that she knew the love which Richard and Lilias bore one to another, and had gone from the world that she might leave them to their joy. . And she must provide herself with the necessary means for her departure. But this would be the work of a few minutes. She would go swiftly and silently, and as swiftly and silently de part. And already her ieet, so feeble hereto fore, with steady, vigorous steps went over the meadow-land and bore her to wards the Abbey. Whence come then this strength, this energy, which seemed to have inspired, as with new life, her. whom so naturally we might have looked to be so prostrate "in her anguish ? It was the terrible strength, the terrible vigor of that indomitable devotion which en ables the woman to suffer torture, even unto the death, for him she loves. Had her love and her agony been less, her courage had been feeble also. At that moment sne did in trutn ignore ner own existence, excepting in so far as it af fected his happiness. She saw not her- seirasthe desolate outcast driven oui from the only love her pure heart had ever known or ever desired, but only as the stumbling block in his path of hope and joy. As such she acted, as such she felt for the time. It was reserved to ner future of despair to restore self-eouscios-ness, and with it the better sentient knowledge.in every moment and hour.of the surpassing misery of her fate. It is this instructive power of incorporating themselves in the life of those they love, which has enabled woman to perform deeds of such rare danntlessness and de votion, and assuredly, no suffering, which any from this cause have endured, could well have equalled that to which Aletheia knew, in her despairing calm, she was crowning herself in thus depart ing, never to return, from the one presence that was light and life to her. She entered the Abbey bv a side door, so as to be completely unobserved, and stole quietly into her own room. She felt exactly" like a criminal whose time of execution "is fixed, and who is constrain ed to wind up the affairs of this life in the last hours that are left to him. As she proceeded to make her prepa rations, her first care was to take every letter or gift she had ever received front Sydney, everything which could indicate how entirely he once devoted himself to her, aud burn them, lest, haply, they might ; be found after her deatli, and bring odium upon hi in whom she still sought to honor with all pure anil loving rever ence. She then left all her other pos sessions untouched, for these alone had any value for her, and having provided herself with money for her journey .there remained only to find some means of ac quainting Lilias and Sydney that she knew and blessed their mutual love, and had for ever withdrawn herself from be ing, in any sense, an obstruction to their happiness. To write to him was beyond her strength. Did she but venture to ad dress one single word to liiin, she well knew she could not restrain the expres sion of her utter wretchedness, and she would have consumed her right hand in the fire ratherthan utter one syllable that would have grieved him rather, for his dear sake, she longed in every way, to lead him to believe that this, her worse than death-agony, was a painless part ing! But an easier method than this was open to her. She took from her finger, for the first and last time, the ring which Sydney himself had placed there as the seal of their union, and folded it in a piece of paper, on which she wrote only these few simple words eloquent, in deed, of all she desired to convey : "Lilias, by the love which have borne to Richard Sydney, I beseech you make him Jiappy. Think of me as one at rest." Aletheia. There was no falsehood contained in these last words, for she knew that if, for her sorrow, her days were prolonged, she would still rest in the repose of des pair at least the struggle of life was over for her. Aletheia believed that Lilias had not yet returned home, aud she resolved to leave this in her room, but when she reached the door, which was open, she saw that her cousin was indeed there, although not in a condition to perceive her entrance. Lilias, wearied with her long walk, had fallen asleep on the sola, and even as she had once found Aletheia slumbering, she slumbered but how wide the contrast between the sleep of sorrow, whose deep unrest had filled her very heart with pity, and her own child like swee t repose. Thus sleeping, the perfect calm and unconsciousness of ner untroupiea soui gave her an expression of extreme quiet, to which her attitude corresponded. For she lay as a young child almost always does. with her head pillowed on her arm, and her long nair nan muing ine rounded cheek anu gently cioseu eyes. For a moment poor Aletheia felt as if it almost filled the convulsive beatings oi her sick heart to listen to that breathing, placid as an infant's and look upon the sweet face, where the light of the last smile seemed lingering yet, and a few scalding tears dropped from her eyes, as she acknowledged to herself that it was no wonder this angel child had robbed her of the love which had been her own life's hope. There was no bitterness of feeling against Lilias as she stood and looked upon her her great sorrow was wast all torm ot lealousy or envy. Gently sne laid upon that quiet breast the ring and paper she had orougnt, ana with a solemn, sad forgiveness bent over the sleeping child, and lightly kissed her torhead. Lilias did not move or awake, but she smiled in her happy dreams, attributing that caress perhaps to one far dearer, and the thought that it might be so,thrilled through Aletheia's heart with exuuisite pain. It seemed the finishing stroke. She turned away, drew the thick veil over her lace au went out from her home utterly and forever more ALOXE. (TO BR COXTIXIT.D.) ANECDOTES OF PUBI.IC JltS, BV COL. J. W. FOBNKV. NO. LXVI. An attack upon the policy of the Mex ican war and the annexation oi lexas always disposes me to direct attention to the results or the conquest or purchase of California and the opening of our way to the Pacific on the thirty-second par allel. When Robert J. Walker, who was perhaps the most active engineer of the annexation scheme, wrote ins celebrated letter in its favor, he pleaded with pro phetic ken for its effect on the whole country. The future vindicated his views. and gave him an opportunity to resist.ou a broader field and with a respieuuent disinterestedness, the efforts of the dis- unionlsts to use their new advantages for the overthrow of the Government. The slaveholders gave quick and earnest support to the Texas programme, and they sent their best material into the war against Mexico, but they soon realized that Freedom could spread as well as Slavery ,and that the more it was distribu ted the stronger it was. They met a fear ful fall wheu they tried to divide Cali fornia in 1850, so as to reserve half of it for the peculiar institution ; and they were still more disappointed when Cali fornia refused to follow them in their spoliation of Kansas in 1855-'5fi-'57 ; and later still, in 1861-'02, when the Pacific State, set apart ns an outline fortress of slavery, became one of the chief bul warks oPrhe Union. , But I did not sit down to write poli tics, or to show how Providence over throws the best laid plans of ambitious men, but to restore to the memory of my readers some of those who figured in the early days of California. These were all in "the prime of life, most of them young, and all of them seeking their fortunes. They came from various sec tions. Young Fremont , who was in his twenty-seventh year, explored the South Pass, and atterward penetrated to the Rocky Mountains and tho Great Salt Lukes, and st ill later unfolded Alta Cali fornia, the Sierra Nevada, the valleys ol the San Joaquin and the Sacramento, was the first United States Senator after the war and the ratification of the treaty of Guadaloupe Hhlalgo. This was In 1S50, when lie was thirty-six years old. I remember him well ; his quiet manners and his youthful figure. His colleague, Dr. William M. Gwin, of Mississippi, who had grown to be a veteran in the bitter conflicts of the South, where he had held any numlierof places, emigra ted to California like the rest, to better his condition, and was made a Senator in Congress in 1850 for six years. He was then just forty-five, full of vigor, resources, busy, continuous, and reso lute, not over-scrupulous, aud intensely ambitious. His wife was exactly tlie mate for such a man ; fashionable, liber al, dashing, generous, and full of South ern partialities. The house was as hos pitable as plenty of money and pleasant people could make it, Gbrge H. Wright was then a Representative in the House in 18oO-'5I. He is now a resident of Washington, and a sound Republican. In 1852 Milton S. Latham came to Wash ington as a Representative from Califor nia. He was just twenty-five when he took his seat a handsome boy, who, af ter a short career in Alabama, had emi grated, in his twenty-third year, to the Golden State. He was modest and grace ful, made a good sophomore speech, was never violent, and soon eoncilitated great favor. Few men have enjoyed more of the world s smiles and favors, and few deserved them more than this young man. He was clerk of the Re corder's Court of San Franeisco in 1850, district attorney in 1851, Representative in Congress in 1852, and declined a; re election ; was collector of the port of San Francisco in 1855,, elected Governor of California iu 1800, and three davs after his inauguration was chosen a Senator i Congress for six years. He was al ways moderate in his politics, though a Democrat; like Douglas and Brcckin- bridge; was a close friend of Andy Johnsou. and never "fell out," I believe with Hotspur AVigfall or dogmotic Toombs. He was ever the genial of all ; had no angular points, and made money with the ease of a fortnnc's favorite. He s now living at San Francisco, a mil lionaire at forty-live, having had aiuex- perience of a quarter of a century un usual in any man's history, with, per haps, as many years before him in which to increase and enjoy his large posses ions. Ufa widely difterent type was E. C. Marchall, who went forth from Kentucky to California about the same time, and sat in the House with Latham as his colleague. He was a genius ; im petuous, blind, reckless; a true scion of git ted and eccentric race, home ot his speeches were gems, but he had no ! ystera, and wasted his gifts lavishly, while the more prudent Latham care fully garnered and added to his. Then came the big-brained James A. Mc Dougall, born in Xew York, hence re moving to Illinois, and in 1850 settled down in California, where, after other service,he was chosen to succeed Latham in the House. What a handsome fellow he was in 1853, in his thirty-seventh car, and how he flamed in debate ! He ought to be living to-day, and would be if be had been a little less selfish. John B. Weller, of Ohio, transplanted himself to California in the exodus of 1850, suc ceeded Fremont in the Senate in 1851, and was afterward Governor of State. He is, I believe, still living in California. Thomas J. Henly, of Indiana, belonged to the same emigration. He made the longest and best stump speeches I ever heard, and could hold a crowd together for four hours at a stretch. Broderlck, 'the noblest Roman of them all," was, I think, in the mines as early as 1845. He fled from New York and its degrad ations and dug for a living in the gulch es ; but he was soon called forth to lead in the formation of the constitution of the new State, and to sit aud preside over the State Senate. Chosen a Senator in Congress in 185li, and refused to sanc tion the treachery of Buchanan on the Kansas question, he was killed in a duel by a Southern secessionist in September of 1859. John Conness, one of the dis ciples of Broderick, was one of the first emigrants to California, and served ill various public positions till lie was chos en a Senator in Congress in 1863. The gold discovery, louowing directly after the conquest of California, stimu lated the rush for the old States, North and South. - That revelation made the ancient Spanish settlement the seat of a new American empire. It seemed a Providential sequel to a great interna tional event; and you will note how the men I have named were moulded and mastered in the development of the times. Every one of them leit home a pro-slav ery Democrat, with the exception of General Fremont; and they were either torced into spmpathy with the rebellion, and with its collapse closed their politi cal career, or took bold ground against the rebellion, and so live in the grati tude ot posterity. California is no long er an outpost ot Slavery or Democracy l ew men have succeeded the pioneers ; men like Cole, Sargent, and Lowe. . The bad influence that ruled the State has passed away. The old, slow ocean pas sage has yielded to the genius of the rail- Continents make treaties by telegraph and interchange commodilies by steam distant nations are made neignoors, find thoughts that could only be spoken or written lor a tew, twenty years ago, ny in an instant into millions of minds in the remotest regions. The ideas of Broderick, and Baker, and Starr King survive the evil sophistries of Gwin and Weller, and leaven the whole mass ot dogmas that came so near losing for us a country. FIRST t'OMMOEB IX ENl,AI BY DR. . SIIEI.TOX MACKKXZ1K. The Speaker of the House of Com mons in England ranks as the best pri vate gentleman, or Commoner, in the British Empire. There is a tradition that, on one occasion, when tbe Speaker was proceediug to the House of Com mons, his carriage broke down at Char ing Cross. That place is about three furlongs from the Parliament houses but it did not consort with the Speaker's idea of our dignity as Speaker, either to go to his destination ou foot, or trust his important person to a hackney coach He waited, close by the statue of King (Jharlcs I, until a private equipage came in view, and then directed one of his servants to stop that carriage, and desire its occupant to come to aim. The gen tleman obeyed this mandate, and was ad dressed in these terms: "tsir, I am Speaker of the House ot Commons. Mv own carriage has broken down, as you may perceive," pointing to the broken axle aud prostrate wheel. "I desire. therefore, that, out of respect to the high office I have the honor to hold, you will place your carriage at my disposal. It is more suitable that 1 should proceed in It to the House oi Commons, than that, wanting it, you should use it. And, in deed, as representing, iu my own hum ble person, the whole Commons of Eng- laud, I have a rig hi, if I choose to claim it, to appropriate, in my present emer gency, the carriage ot any private gen tleman. At present I simply tell you who I am and how I am circumstanced." The other gentleman, fortunately recog nizing uie ftpeaKer. assured bun that he would be happy to do him the trifling lavor ot conveying him to the House. But the Speaker, who, as I have said, had a grand idea of his own dignity, as rep resenting uie tinru estate or the realm (there are now four Queen, Lords Commons, aud Journalism,) gravely struck iu here with the words, "Sir, it is impossible that, us Speaker, proceed ing to preside over the deliberations of the House of Commons. I can nermit an person, however respectable, to sit with mo in my carriage." The other gentle man, who was a man of practical good souse, immediately placed his chariot at the command of this very dignified First Commoi.er, and walked home, while t he Speaker rode to the House, and, when the proceedings closed, was gratified by finding the stranger's carriage still at his service, waiting to convey him home. In that day fhe Speaker had not an of ficial residence as he now has in the new Palace of Westminster. Of course, iu his private capacity, he did not lose much time iu calling upon the owner of the carriage, and personally thanking him. Tiiis gentleman was iu independent cir cumstances, but the richest have poor relations or connections, or followers, in whose favor a little patronage may be advantageously exercised,and the obliged soon made himself the obliging Speaker, by using his power and influence in ob taining government situations for as many relations and friends as the gen tleman desired to see well provided for. The Speaker, dignified to the last, in formed him that if he had not surren dered, his carriage during the urgent need of the First Commoner, he, the Speaker, could have taken possession of it, as of right, with the assistance of the posse comitattis of the city of Westmin ster! I am at a loss to know how he could have done this. "I can call spirits from the vasty deep," said one of Shaks peare's people. "But will they come when you call them?" asks another iu reply. Would the passing crowd near Charing Cross have obeyed the Speaker's command to seize a private carriage for his particular use? Certainly not now. It would be easy, aud 1 hope not im pertinent, to suppose a case of break down in the political capital (no more a city of "magnificent distances") of the United States. Imagine Mr. Blaine, Speaker of the House of Representa tives, having an axle snapped, and a wheel kuockcdorf his carriage, as he was proceeding to the Capitol to take his seat as usual. Happily, no personal damage is sustained I can imagine that with considerable pleasure, for, during the few- minutes which followed my in troduction to him, and I have never "seen him since, I was pleased with his frank manners and manly appearance. Sup posing the break-down iu hi ease what would e do? Certainly not waste time in demanding a stranger to surrender his carriage, but bail the first empty hack-ney-coach passing along Pennsylvania avenue, and jump into it, with the word "To the Capitol;" or, if no regular car riage was in view, put himself on board the first passenger car for the Navy Yard. 1 do not think that his dignity would be at all compromised by doing this. Gentlest of readers that is, the fair ladv who has to wait for her hus band when they are goiug to a dinner party do yon think that our Speaker ould lose caste by doing what 1 am sure he would do in such a case? There is a great difterencein the emol uments of the American aud English Speakers. With us the functionary in question receives $8,000 per annum, with out an official residence, and witli no pa tronage. In England, the Speaker has $30,000 a year, with a furnished resi dence, gas, coal, etc., aud is kept in of- ce until he resign; the average dura tion of service exceeding fifteen years. When he retires be is raised to the peer- ago, with a pension ot $20,000 a year lor . k . . i:c l . : ...i . i . . . luu uie vi uiuiseu uiiu wiv otnei person, sually his heir and successor. He has many appointments in his gift. He can appoint his "counsel learned in the law," at $7,oOO a year; two "reterees," each at o,uoo per annum; a chaplain, at $2,uoo year and a certainty of high promotion in the Church ; a private secretary, at $2,500 a year, and many minor clerkships in the Commons, all of which rise to large salaries by seniority of service. L ntil recently, however, the English Speaker had to sit in the House, day af ter day, hour alter hour except when the House is in committee, when the chairman of committee presides, and Mr. Speaker may retire into his own rooms. and have a snooze on the sofa liable to be suddenly called back to the House when it got out of "committee of the hole." mere now is a deputy speaker, who presides in bis principal's absence. The sitting and listening to speaking and debating for five nights out of seven, ror six months at a stretch, is very wea risome. Once upon a time, wheu Wln throp Mac-worth Praed, the poet, and also a Parliament-mau, saw Speaker Manners nodding in the Chair, he dashed on tne louowing witty jen a espnt: I. Sleen. Mr. Sneaker, 'tis snrelv fair If you mayn't in your bed, that you should in yourciiair. TjOuder and louder now they grow. Tory and Radical, Aye and No; Tnlkinfr by night, and talking- b; Sleen, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. II. Sleep, Mr. Speaker; slumber lies i.ignt ana uriei on a speaker's eves, Fieldinir or Finn in a minute or two Some disorderly thing- will do; Kiot win cnase repose away; Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. III. Sleep, Mr. Speaker. Sweet to men Is the sleep that Cometh but now and then Sweet to the weary, sweet to the ill, Sweet to the children that work iu the mill . You have more need of repose than they; Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may. IV. Sleep, Mr. Speaker, Harvey will soon Move to abolish the sun and the moon; Hume will no doubt be taking- the sense Of the House on a question of sixteen pence. Statesmen will howl, an dpatriots bray; Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while yon may. Sleep, Mr. Speaker, and dream of the time v? tien iyaity was not quite a crime. When Grant was a pupil in Canning's school, And Palmers ton fancied Wood a tool. Lord, bow principles pass away ! Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may." I publish this poem the more will in si y not merely for its liveliness and wit, but because, incredible as it may seem,I can not find it in the two volumes ot Praed'; Poems, entitled by the Rev. Derwent Conway, and published in London and Aew iork in the vear lst4. A few al lusions in it may require a brief expla nation, in verse two John Fielding, the colleague of William Cobbett ("Peter !.. .... ..I N in . ! ...i .-1 ! .1 ..... I'.llV. .IB t-.IV. . .HllllVlltUI J sentation of the Lancashire borough of oionain. was an unrestraint Die Ka ileal. utterly ignorant of or indifferent to the rules ot the House, and so often "on his legs " that he seemed in bis own person to realize what the poet meant in the dedication, "Hope perpetual springs." Mr. Finn was an Irish member, a joint oi O CoimeU s "Tail," who was a trifle more irrepressible, and seemed to havi an idea that when the Speaker called out "Order," he must have meant "Go on!' The fourth stanza opens with a hit at Daniel V hit tie Harvey, member for Col chester, who, about that time, had moved that the entire Pension List should be abolished with "one fell swoop;" and failing in this, got a committee appointed to inquire into the grounds on which each pension had been granted. Harvey wno and i nave heard .Brougham, Can ning, Macaulay, Shiel, and Charles Sum ner was the best Parliamentary speaker ever listened to, eventually became chief of the city of London police, an office incompatible with a seat in Parlia ment. Joseph Hume, who then repre sented a scetcn borough, and afterward was Al. r. tor the county or Middlesex was troublesome during most of his life as a legislator in overhauling the money estimates and putting his foot heavil'v oown upon ions ana extravagance on the part of the government. From hU frequent use of one phrase, and his par ticularly ;cotcn way oi pronouncing it, he was nick-named "the tottle of the whole." Mr. Hume was the most ultra of the ultra-liberals, and was ridiculed and condemned for having once declared in the House of Commons that, if his do ing so would serve tho Interests of his party, ho was willing, nt any time, to vote that black was white, and that white was black! No doubt many partisan legislators have done, and will do, the same, out ineir prudence win proven their acknowledging it. In stanza five the Charles Grant alluded to was a dis tinguished scholar and orator, M. P. for a Scotch county for many years, who was particularly; attached to the policy and person of Mr. Canning, a decided opponent of Parliamentary reform; but, three years after his chiefs death, b& came - member of Lord G rev's Reform Administration. He was created Lord Glenely in 183a, and retired from public life not long after. It is unnecessary to say who and what Lord Palmerston was. Sir Charles Wood, whom he fancied a fool, was Earl Grey's son-in-law, which appears to be the chief reason why, since 1830, he lias always held high office whenever his party were in the ascend ant. In 1860 he was created Viscount Halifax, and now is Lord Privy Seal and a Cabinet Minister, with nothinsr to do. and well paid for doing it. TRATEUNIi STOXKS. Most of our readers have doubtless heard of the famous traveling stone of Australia. Similar curiosities have re cently been found in Nevada, which are described as always perfectly round, the majority oi mem as large as a walnut. and of an irony nature. When distrib uted about on the floor, table, or other level surface, within two or three feet of each other, they immediately commence traveling toward the common centre, aud there huddle up in a bunch like a lotot eggs m a nest. A single stone, emoved to the distance of three and a half feet, upon being released, at. once started off, with wonderful and some what comical celerity, to join its fellows; taken away four or five feet, it remained motionless. They are found iu a region that is comparatively level and is nothing but bare rock. Scattered over the barren region are little basins, from a foot to a rod in diameter, and it is iu the bottom of these that the rolling stones are found. 1 hey arc from the size of a pea to five or six inches iu diameter. 'The cause of these stones rolling together is doubtless to be found in the material of which they are composed, which appears to be lode-stone or magnetic iron ore. "Roll ing stones gather no moss." t'KUIES AXIS CASirALTIEN. lit Savannah, Georgia, four buildings on Broughton street.with contents, were destroyed by lire recently. Loss $100,000; insured ?!Ki,ooo. I. M. Stewart, bridge builder of the Mississippi and Tcnnesee Railroad, was run over by a construction train on Sat- rday, and instantly killed. . W. O. Bartlett has withdrawn from the Stokes case, and it is said John Gra ham will, because Stokes neglects to comply with his instructions. At Little Hock, Arkansas, Rev. Iieuben 'Williams, colored, was foully murdered in his bed, in the suburbs, by a couple of colored men. The murderers escaped. GregoriaPieri. the Italian saloon keen er convicted of murdering O'Brien, was sentenced nv Judge Parker, in the riminal court of Chicago, to be hanged on the 28th of this month. Samuel Bush, a keeper of a stage sta tion at Xew River, on the Colorado Des ert, between San Diego and Fort Yuma, has been killed and the station sacked by Mexicans, supposed to be from Low er Caliornia. The trial of John R. Duncan, for the murder of Edward Kennedy, near llop kinton, Delaware county, Iowa, Dec. 18 187", terminated on Friday. The jury returned a verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree. John V. B. Williams, a Baltimore wood turner, aged tweuty-seven years, killed his wife, aged thirty-two years, by cutting her head open with a cleaver. He thcu took strychnine, but will recov er, lie was committed to prison. T wo women irom I'aducah, hired a buggy at Metropolis, Illinois, on Satur day night, to drive in the country. The horse ran away, the women thrown out, and one named McMahon had her neck broken. The other was not seriously injured. Crawford, who was louud dead in a skiff near Rome, Kentucky, last week. was killed by a man named Jones l.ln inger, in Caawford county while at tempting to carry off a cable he had stol en irom Jones, ine latter was not ar rested. The President of the Bank of Colum bia, Adair county, Kentucky, robbed on Monday afternoon ny nve men, has of. lered a reward ot 2,.rKiu tor them, , or $1,000 for either. The raid was one of the most daring ever made, and the mur der heartless. The villians got-about! 70,- ooo, jiostiy in uonus. . Mary Jane McCoun, of Flushing, a very prepossessing girLhad a suitor nam ed Willett Skidmore, who was engaged to ner in marriage a year and a halt ago, When tuo wedding nay arrived Skid- more disappointed her, and her grief HR Ml UlCiUi umi Bl: il 1.1:111 1 jicu BUlCHie . . i . . i . ...... .....I . i . by taking poison. Dr. Beldin saved her life. Skidmore renewed his attentions, and they became engaged a second time. Thursday last ueing tne day appointed tor the wedding, l lie young lady had her wedding garments all ready, and everything looked favorable. On Thurs day morning at 10 o'clock, she died. The cause of her death is not known, as no post-mortem examination has been made. She is to be buried in her wed ding garments on Sunday. It is thought sne again poison eu nerseit. A Louisville special to the Chronicle says that on Saturday night a party of twenty-live disguised men went to s house a few miles from Frankfort, oc cupied bv colored people who are em ployed on the larin ot James Church, aud demanded ndmittancc. This being reuisei, nicy uegan ueaiingai tne doors, whereon one or the inmates fired a jis tol through the window and ran out the back door, but was shot in the right arm and severely wounded. The other man in the house, seeing resistance was use less, opened the door, when the mob rushed in, dragged him out, and beat him in a brutal manner.and with threats ot death ordered him to leave the coun try the next day. They packed up their things anu went to i ranklort lor safctv Monday, Mrs. Barbara Brestler. wife of George Brestler, who resides iu Bovd street, ienrK. near tne Thirteenth ard school-house, committed suicide at an early hour by cutting her throat with her husband's razor. Three months ago the deceased gave birth to a child and since that tune she has often com plained of feeling unwell, and at times has acted strangely. At 5 o'clock she arose to prepare breakfast, aud after putting her shawl on went, as Mr, Brestler thought, after kindling wood As she did not return immediately he be- uime aiuruieu, especially as she had said on going out that she was unwell. He went in search ot her, and hearing noise in a small shed, situated about seventy-five feet in the rear of his dwell ing, he hastened thither. On opening the door of the ehed a horrible sight presented itself. About three feet from the entrance his wife stood, holding bloody razor in Her right hand with which she hud cut a deep gash in her throat, ner lite-blood was llowinf fasi from the gaping wounds ; her dress was crimsoned with it, and she stood in the center oi a large pool of blood. When mo poor demented creature saw her husband she threw the razor on a bench and, with a last effort, sprang into ihe arms of the astonished and horror stricken man. When he could compre hend the situation, Mr. Brestler bore the form of Ids dying wife into i lie and laid her on a bed. Messengers were dispatched after physicians, and in a few minutes Drs. Hagar and Lemacher arrived, but the unfortunate woman had lost so much blood that it was impossi ble to save her life. She lived about au hour after committing the fatal net, re taining hor senses to the moment of her death, and calmly taking a lust farewell of her three little children and her heart-brokeu husband. The deceased was twenty-four vears old, and a rather comely-looking womau. , . . , ., MELANGE. " There isn't mite," says Lavater, "but what fancies itself the cheese." An Iowa mnister preached a sermon composed entirely of words of one syl lable. The heathen Cihuee has been tried and found wanting in Louisiana so says a local paper. An Indiana matron is " doing as well as could be expected" at the age of 72. It's a girl. Mr. Tyler was upset on the Mississ ippi and nearly drowned. Tip a canoe and Tyler too. Oregon expects us to believe that one of its babies walks at the age of Ave weeks. "Walker!" Why is a husband beating his wife like Worth, the dressmaker? Because he's a man millin"er. - The typical orator of the Colored Methodist Conference might be defined as a black and tan-gent. Since Trojr evidently can't get godli ness, it is going to try the next thing in the shape of public baths. Atlanta, Ga., has a colored Borgia, who mingled arsenic in her sister's lager with unfortunate results. The Italian journals are crying out against the increasing emigration from that country to America. The season has come for the eight- legged calf, and Lancaster, County, Penn., possesses it this time. By and by the Chinese so they say will ask for consequential damages for every artesian well we bore. Four-fifths of the widows in Canada marry again within two years and a half after their bereavement. And now there is another prima donna of surpassing excellence. Which her name is rrelly, and she sings at Paris. What is the difference between a French pastry-cook and a bill-sticker V One puffs up paste and the other pastes up puns. i Eels begin ' to feel uncomfortably. They know they're going to be "scotch ed" when fishermen take to " spearing their way'.' anions; them. An ingenious housebreaker in Illinois lias invented a new " combination jim my," aud wants to know why in thun der he can't secure a patent on it. The Boston Globe tells of an appren tice who remarked to a fellow appren tice, " I don't like a boss who is allers round his shop interfering with his own business." One reason why the Pope thinks so much of American Catholics is said to be that he never takes up an American paper without seeing something about .Boston juass. X blind woman in Iowa has learned to thread a cambrie needle with her teeth and tongue. Is there anything in the world that a woman's tongue can not do op undo? The dealers in Sail Francisco gambling- hells have taken to wearing masks, for . no other apparent reason than to enable their customers to get off a joke about playing dominoes. Worth makes the woman instead of the man now-a-days, and that distin guished male modiste has set up a branch for the accommodation of the nobility and gentry in London. A classically minded shirtraaker en titles his under garments " Ancillary," to contradistinguish them from the com- -mon run of machine work, having learn ed that " ancilla" in the Latin signifies hand-made." In California, editors are exempted from jury duty. A similar provision should be adopted here ; for if a man who only reads a newspaper be deemed unfit to serve ou a jury, the man who edits it must be doubly so. Said a Detroit lady to a gentleman of that city : " You are not a musician, I believe." "Xo,' said he : " if I were the proprietor of a hand-organ set expressly to play ' Old Hundred,' I coulden't get seventy-five out of it." A French countess seized a philospher at the supper . table and exclaimed, While they arc cutting up the fowls aud we have got five minutes to spare,do tell me the history ot the world, tor x want to know it so -much." Josh Billings says : There iz one thing about a hen that looks like wisdum they don't kackle mutch until after they have laid their egg, sum pnoiKS are ai wus a bra?sringr and a cackling what they lare going tew do beforehand. A dentist announces that he puts in a " suite" of teeth at such a price. A person who is fond of candy, is said to have a sweet tooth, but to have au en tire suite of teeth must indeed be " a thing of beauty and jaw forever." Numerous residents of Lafayette, lnd., have . established a Druidical grove," and their wives nave goi irom the circulating library all the copies of the "Mystery oi i.ciwm uruui" to learn what sort of doings are contemplated. Xew-fangled smelling-bottles, to be worn at the belt, have been introduced. Considering the state of the city, and how much " more so " it will be when the hot weather arrives, these bottles may indeed be looked on as a " sweet boon." An authority on fashionable attire or acularly announces that " gloves ought to mark t he darkest shade in the dress." Consequently, if you wear black you should rub chalk ou your gloves. W ith most other colored fabrics charcoal would answer. Au English writer advises young la dies to look favorably upon those en gaged in agricultural pursuits, giving as a reason that their mother Eve mar ried a gardener. He forgot to add, how ever, that the gardener lost his situatiou iu consequeuce of the match. It is noticeable that nearly all the wild pigeons brought into the market this season have been deprived of their tail feathers. Are the ladies of fashion an swerable for this, ' and shall people in the coining summer enjoy the novel spectacle of ducks with pigeons' tails? The Montreal Herald refuses to be comforted. It considers that the question why the Joint High Commission was appointed "Is a problem in the ways of Providence quite as wonderful as the one commemorated by the village stone cut ter in the case of the prematurely de ceased infant." Cider being pronounced an innocu ous beverage in the eye of the Maine li quor taw, dealers iu apple juice have ta ken to freezing hogsheads of that fluid, and drawing off from the center a con centrated potation which is said to play the juice with the Dow-age.-s of Port land and its vicinity. All recent lots of Americau flags have been made seamless by special orders from the Washington departments, k was needless, however, to get up any particular machine for this purpose, a's President Grant's action alone siilnivs to make the American flag seem less in the eyes of other nations. When men ibrget their love of gold. And love their honor more: Wheu truth is only current eoiu, Aud counted o'er ando'er Whoa men love freedom tor its sake.. For all as well as one And tor the greatest frood, their wort, Kroiu day to day is done; When men throw self a$ide ami live For Mime just purpose uigli. Then will the glorious era eoine When none shall fear to die. An Inveterate old beggar, wno fre quented a certain entry, was called into one of the otllces by the inmates out of curiosity to know what was in his par ticular plea for charity on that day, since he always had a new one, Oii being pressed with the question as to what was really the matter with him, replied at last, "Well gentleman, I guess 1 vc kind o' lost my euergy powers." A very com mon, complaint In spring weather.'