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h I tmidorlv bountiful lioyond onipre, VUiNliod from pain pink to docpt rose bud )U9, NiiihIIiikhoI truniill Minnlilne and mild lr. Of aliuUowloiut dawn und illvery twilltflit Ye bluitli and burn an If your MokoiliiK Krace Were lovo' own tint on bpruiii n euumoreu face I And day by day-yea, ldoii hour by hour- Your nlitle irHifrwiuu mm " (Kneh fulry blonecin rounded Into flower) flow matolile once tlmt lo8t Arcadian Hpill Which dwult In liiafy boworHand vernal dyes, Whence coyly pooped tlio Dryau's fawn-like tyel And yot, wlillo ull ho fair and bounteous HeoiiiH, Wlille UlrdH carol each IiIh dalntloHt part, Yelled in aoft brlBlitncas, and, like musical dreams In mime blltlio aoul, tlio boo-swiirnis haunt your hourt, Lo! anverod alowly from yonroHcate crown, A guarlut nuow drlft dumbly falters down. Tlio ri'ltfn of thoHO rich blooms Is almost done: Soon, to the lamruld Knpby's feeblest breath, Tholr loosened petals, yielding one by ono, MuHt Und the Us the (if unawakenlng death. Ah mo! of all the bourgeoned budsthut shoot Kvcn to full flower, bow few shall bear us fruit t Their little day Is closing fast In gloom, Nor will Uicy rock, poor wilted waifs and blind, What gormg of rlehnoss wax from faded bloom To oliartn tlio pampored taste of human kind: Forovor dropped from off their parent stem, What have mini's thoughts or tasto to do with them? So let tboiu rest, I pray you, let them rest, Small perishing sweethearts of the sun and rain. O Mother Earth 1 thou bust a ruthful breast, Wliloli yoarns to fold thy humblest child from pain ; Men full like flowers j both claim the self- Biuiio bulm, The euiil paoo of thine Immutable culm I God Knowctli Best. 'ijoinotimo, when nil life's lessons liavo boon leurned, And huh and stars nave forovor moro sot, Tho things which our weak Judgments have Bfjuniad The things o'er which wo grieved with lashes wet Will flush before us out of life's dark night, As stars hIiIiio most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's plans wore right, And bow what scorned reproof was love most true. And we shall hco bow, whllo wo frown and sigh, UoJ'h plans go on as best for you and mo; How, when wo cnllod, ho heeded not our cry, DecuuHO his wisdom to tho ond could soo. And eveti us prudent parents disallow Too ration of sweet to craving babyhood, So (iod, perhaps, Is keeping from us now Life's sweetest things because It seemoth good. And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine, Wo Und tho worm-wood, and rebol and shrink, Bo sure a wlserhnnd thun your's or mine Tours out this portion for our lips to drink. And If some friend wo lovo Is lying low, W here human kisses can not reach his face, Ok, do not blumo the loving Father so, Hut wear your sorrow with obedient grace! And you Bhull shortly know that lengthened breath Is not tho sweetest gift God sends Ills friend, And that, Hoinetimos, tho sitblo pall of death Conceals tho fairest boon his lovo can send. If wo could push ajur the nates of Ufo, And stand within, and nil God's workings see, We could interpret all this doubt and strife, And for each mystery could II lid a key! Hut not to-day. Then be content, poor heart! God's plans, like lilies, pure mid wblto un fold. We miiHt not tear the closo-shut leaves apart; Time will relieve the culyxea of gold. And, if, through patient toll, wo reach the land Where tired feet, with sundals loose, may rest. When wo shall clearly know and understand, 1 think that wo will say, "God knew the best !" KIT'S MISSION. The Major arrived just before supper, .mil wht n it was over, the young folks, as usual, took possession of' him. Seat ed in his big arm-chair, before tho blaz ing fire, with his ruddy face, twinkling blue eyes, soldierly whiskers and slight brogue, ho was their very ideal of " a brave old Jrish gentleman all of the old en time." " Ami so you've graduated, Tom, sny boy?" he said. " Yes," the young man replied, sul lenly. " With ull tho honors, of course?" With no honors. I never was intend ed to make a mark iu the world." Have you chosen yonr profession?" vked the Major, cheerily, pretending not to see the lad's discontented face. No. It docs not much matter what 1 do. Some fellows have money to be giu with, and some, talent. Dob Fitch has an aptitude for medicine ; bu broth er, for the law; while Joe, there, is a born macliim.-t. But I have no capital of any sort. I dont know why td end u-x-loi people into the world." The Major made no reply. He saw ih.it Tom was bitter under some college defeat. I: was no lime for serious re proof, lie turned to the children, there fore, w.V wire climbing his knee and bringing their stools closer, In expecta tion of t story. An Irish story, please." A duel, Major," sa.d Jack. No, not Lady Leigh's ghost," pleaded Mary. Tut, tut I You know my stock too well. Let me soe t Did I ever tell you of tho man who lived In his coffin P" No I Oh, go on!" thoireyes dilating with the delight of a new horror. It was In 1820." began the Major, toasting his foot comfortably, that I was sent on a visit to my uncie, a ianuur in County Cork. I was aioutyour age, Jack a hearty eater, a goou snot, auu a great doal fonder of fun than of books. My uncle's house was a great, low, hnildinff. with plenty of win- Jow8, and bigroaring fires; untidy and comfortable ; full and running over with children, dot's, and servants. I was stunned at first with the scale on which the eating and fun and foolio went on Mv unola was onlv a dairy farmer. In this country he would have felt it right to save every penny for his eleven children. But in Ireland he felt it his duty to keep his table filled with poor friends, the year round. They're unfortunate,' my aunt re plied, when I questioned why they were there. Isn't that reason enough P' In the kitchen it was just tho same way. Besides the cooks, iarm-nanus, laundry, and loom-women (for ladies wove their own linon then), mere was a legion of old, blind, and deaf retainers cluttering up the passages. They'ro not beggars; they're all of use,' said my aunt, placidly. They earn their bite and sup.' " 'Old Molly. nowP Sho can not near it thunder,' I suggested. "'Oh, she sits m tho sun ana toons after the lions.' "And lame DavyP' "'He he goes for barm yeast twice a week,' triumphantly. " 'And the idiots, Patsy and uarney r "Whv. child, they're innocents! God have them in his keeping!' " My uncle's way of life was mat 01 bis neighbors. I suppose it was extrav agant and foolish ; and yet, when. I re member how the poor and helpless wr received and fed. as if sent by God, I wonder sometimes if there were not a better wisdom than economy in it. " There was ono young laa in ine hnnsn with whom I soon formed a friendship. His name was Dick Clancy. He was a hard student, and was read ing his humanities' in the village school, preparatory t3 entering Trinity College at Dublin. "'Is Clancy a kinsman of yours r i asked my aunt. " 'No. He is what is called a poor scholar.' When a poor lad wishes to receive an education, he is taught with out charge at any school, and goes from house to house, staying at each as long as he chooses. A 'poor scholar is al ways welcome. We think God's bless ing goes with him for the love of learn- " We were at supper, i rememuer, when sho said this. It was a wild, stormv nisrht. Tho ground was cover ed with snow, and the wind blew fierce ly from the sea. In a lull of the storm, we heard a knocking at the gate. " liun!' cried my uncle; 'wno can oe abroad on such a night as this?' " When the men unbarred the door, one of them stepped hastily back. 'It's Kit in his colltn, sir!' The snow blew with n frightful gust into tho oDen hall, as four men entered, carrying a bier, which they set down, and then hastily retreated. On the bier rested what seemed to be an open coffin. " The cloth was thrown off, and from within the coffin a man's head rose up. " 'God bo with all here ! ' said a hearty voice. "God be with you, Kit!' replied a dozen voices. " 'Who could have turned you out on such a night, lad?' said my uncle. " Oh, I would come. I was at Larry O'Neill's, and they were loth to see me go. But I said I'm due at the Squire's and I'll not disappoint him. And I had the salve for the misthress's burn to bring, and the wash for your throat, Molly. I knew yecs couldn't do with out mo anuder day.' " 'Thrue foryou, Kit,' came from half the people in the room. " 'Take him to the tiro,' said my un cle, who was cutting the best slices of meat for his supper. " Kit was, I found, a man who had been for twenty years paralyzed in his legs. He lived in a narrow box like a coffin, arranged as a comfortable bed, and went from house to house, slaying a week or month at each, as suited him. The poorest houses in the county tk their share of entertaining him. When my aunt whispered this explanation to me, I look e J at the wretch J creature, with one half vf his body dead, and wondered how he could bear so much misery. Why docsnt he make them throw him in the bog and make an end of It?' I asked. I don't soe how a man can endure to be a dead weight on othors for so many years.' " Walt, and you will see,' said my aunt. ' After supper, I went out to the kitchen, from whence came loud shouts of laughtor. Kit's coffin was placed near the fire, and a square box, which he carried undor bis head, was open be fore him. Ho was distributing, at once, his jokos and cures for burns, toothaches, oorns, and more serious diseases patterns of children's clothes, redoes for nuddines. every kind of use ful information, in a word, which oould be carried in his head or in his box. I stood listening to him, and, boy as I was, noticed the remarkable tact and homolv kindness which he displayed undwr all his fun. He turned his bright, shrewd eyes on mo presently. " 1 You see. young gentloman, I can't follow a profession or trado, so I have to take up the odds and ends whicn no body else attends to, to make myself useful.' " My uncle told me that Kit had ac ouired mueh skill in the cure of simplo ailments, and that, with his odds and ends, he was in fact one of the most useful men in the country. "The storm increased, and Kit re mained all nisrht. He was carried in front of the kitchen fire, the straw of his bed renewed, and warm coverlids spread over the coffin. "My own chamber was over the kitchen. There were cracks in the log flooring through which I could look down, and through which, too, ruddy flashes of firelight camo up cheerfully. After the house was all quiet, Patsy, the 'innocent.' camo into the kitchen, and, throwing down a blanket on the warm hearth, near to Kit, cunea up on it like a dog. The neighborhood of the queer pair made me restless, I supposo, for I could not sleep. I heard the clock in the hall strike midnight, and then l o'clock. Then a muffied sound struck my ear, very different from the noises of the storm. It was the drawing back of the heavy bar from the outer door. " 'Probablv Dennis, the shepherd, is going out to look after his lambs,' I thought, and turned over to sleep. But the next moment I rose uneasily, and crept to the window. Through the gray storm without I could see that the road and yard were fill ed with dark figures, stealthily surrounding tho house. I understood it all nt a glance. . , . i t " The year nao. Deen one oi gieuu suffering almost of famine and bands of deanerate men had attacked several of the farm-houses in that part of the country, which they had plundered, and then set on fire. These desperate men were still at large. It was asserted that they wore peasants, heretofore de cent and honest men. wnocvertney might be, it was certain that, as soon as caught, they would swing for it. "I shook with terror. I knew that my uncle had a large sum of money in his chamber, just received ior catue, and doubtless these men knew it too. I saw that there were enough of them to overpower the men in the house, even if they were awake and armed. " My room was separated by a long eorridor fro m mv uncle's. I groped for the door, my teeth chattering with cold, when the hre-light, hashing up oeiow, showed me a sight which held me mo tionless. "They were already in the house! Tho kitchen was full of sturdy fellows, all armed, their frieze coats covered with snow, their faces swathed in black cloth. " The kitchen was separated from the house by a long passage. They made no effort to keep quiet, therefore, but began to drag out the provisions, talk ing loudlv. and in their natural voices. o 4 ' As yet they had not seen Kit or Patsy. The idiot lay sound asleep on tne warm hearth, but Kit had raised his head, and his keen, pale face turned quickly from one to another as they spoke. '"They'll murder him!' I thought, but my lips were glued together with ! terror. Kit, helpless as a dead man, was cool and calm. " 'Be jabers,' said one, we'll hev somethin' to ate, before we go fur the ! ould man's money ! I didn't know how near starved I was afore, but the sight j of this mate makes me sick.' I "'Ye're a fool, Pat Grady. There's ' enough silver in his chest to kape us for j a year! Howly Mother, what's here?' j as another flash of fire light showed the coflin. 'I'm here, Michael Crawford,' said Kit, quietly. It's you, is it, that ker i ries on this work?' ! ' llnw dar yon call me name?' blus tered the ruffian, changing his voice. ; I':n no Cruwford,' he added, with a territile oath. I I know yon. And you, Pat Grady, j And yon, Uobert Piynn. There's not one of you I couldn't name, and bring to the gsilows to-morrow.' 'O'Gradv snrane at him with a smoth ered yell, brandishing a knife. Kit's face turned ghastly pale. Life, I suppose, was as dear to the poor frag ment of a man as it is to you or me. But his eyes never blanohed. " 'Ye'd murdhor me, Patrick Grady P MeV "The knifo shook in the murder's hand. 'I'd murdher any informor,' said the man, sullenly. " 'I'm no informor. I'll never open mv lins. bovs. on this night's work, it it's the last. But if you touch a hair of the Squire's head, or go in the house an inch, I'll hang every man of yeesl' " He raised his corpse-like head, and shook his skiuny hand at them. I've been in many a battle, but I never saw such desperate courage as was shown by this cripple in his coffin. The idiot, Patsy, roused by the noise, sorambled to his knees, and stared terrified about him. . . . "The men stood paralyzed. Ihe superstition which taught them to pro tect these two helpless creatures was strong enough to hold them motionless, even in the face of Kit's threats. " 'Make an end of it!' growled Craw ford. 'Put a bullet In his skull.' " Not a man moved. Kit, with a ter rible effort, raised himself higher in his coffin. " 'Come, an' do it yerself, Michael Crawford! Kill tho cripple and the innocent, if ve dare. There's a mightier Ono that's watching ye !' pointing sud denly to tho stormy sky, seen through the open door. " The men stared at him, and at tne driving storm, with visible terror. Michael began to whine, after the fash ion of his class. " 'Ye know ye're safe, Kit; an' it's not an informer ye'd be, that's slop undher our roof, an' dhrunk wid us?" "'I'll never mintion yer names, if yecs let this be the last ov it. Take that mate widyees, an' two of the mtcnes; I'll make it right wid the Squire. He never let a hungry man go from his dure.' "Throe frvou. No more he did! 'Fore the Howly Mother, we'll go straight home.' 'They'll rob the next house,' said Kit, dropping back exhausted. ButI did the best I could.' "Ha was riffht. Bv daylight came the news that they had attacked the house of a wealthy gentleman near town, who was prepared lor tnem. There was a desperate fight ; the ring leaders were arrested, tried, and hung, and the band broken up. Ihen l told mv uncle how the poor cripple and in nocent, whem he had taken in from charity, had protected him, as no arms could have done." The Maior's story brought forth many criticisms from the children. But Tom came up behind him, and said, quietly " I think I understand the moral oi Kit's life, sir, and I will try to apply it." Youth'1 s Companion. Danced with His "Wife. A Springfield, Mass., correspondent of the Pittsfield Eagle writes: "We had a masked ball the othernight, given by one of Springfield's well known clubs, and thereby hangs a tale.' A business man told his pretty young wife, on the night of tho above mentioned ball, that he was obliged to go out of town to one of the temperance meetings, and might not return till the following noon. The wife resolved, after he had left, to have a good time in a different way, so. accordingly she procured a simple black domino, and went boldly to tho masked ball. She had never done such a rash thing before, but her husband had been away very often of late, and she would mope at home no longer. She danced once, twice, and three times, and nobody seemed to know her, yet she was fully determined to see it over, and unmasked with the rest at 12 o'clock. Now a dashing young cavalier asks for her hand for the coming waltz, and sho accepts. They whirl away, and sho saysr 'Do you dance often?' blushing behind her mask at her boldness. Very often,' replied the cavalier, and added, not often in Springfield.' You do not live here, then?' the little domino mustered up courage to say. I would live here or j at the ends of the earth to be near a lit ; tie black domino I could mention,' said j the cavalier. This was too much for ! the little lad, but she was in for it, and would fight it out now, come what would. They danced a great deal to gether, and when the circle formed, s - 1 .i t .1 1 1 I jusi oeiore iz o ciui-n, iuey uuuikcu, when to the horror cf Mr. , he found that he had been dancing with his own wife. The scene that followed can be imagined, but we will drop the curtain on the lecture that followed, but will say that it was not on temperance. Thk New Orleans monument to Gen. Lee will be 10G feet in height. An Extinct Volcano In Oregon, Prof. George F. nollls writes to the New York Sun from Oregon : Near Jordan Valley, in Baker Conn, ty, there oxlsU an extinot crater, which has boen a noblo and terrible agent of Nature. This crater Is situated 20 miles north of the stago road running from Boise City, Idaho, to Winnemucca, Ne. vada. Securing the services of Mr. Samuel Martin, a line gentleman and competent guide, on the 25th of this month, we went out to visit and take scientiBo notes. At 24 o'clock we reached the rim of tho crater, and looked down into its dizzy abyss. The longth of the crater is 3,000 feet, and it will safely reach 2,500 foot in width. The depth of the present cavity is estimated at 1,500 feet The entire orator is burned out, but the ashes and cindors have accumulated on the west side for 200 feet above the rim, and still remain. On the bottom, huge bowlders are lying over the lava crust. A little vegetation grows on the west side. The formation of the sides shows a wall of granite, and a stratum of wash gravel under it. The circumference of the crater at the present is one mile. The elevation at the base is about 5,000 feet above the sea level. Close estimation gives the fact of the former height of the crater at 10,000 feet. Seventy yards north is a deep hole, 150 feet long, GO feet wide, and 30 feet deep. This hole has been blown clem out. If you get into it by accident you can not get out, unless by ropes, as the walls are perpendicular. Thirty yards east of this is another hole, about the same in proportions and appearance. On the northwest side a chimney has been built out of the lava slabs, which is 15 foet high and 8 feet at the base. My theory is that it was built for the pur pose of a landmark, and perhaps by some tribe of Indians now extinot as a place of burial. The last eruption must have taken place at least 500 years ago. From good authority I find that only four men have entered the crater before us. Mr. Martin has lived where he does now for seven years, and is a trustwor thy man. An arm of lava rock extends back into the bill west, but I had no time to examine it. The vast amount of lava proves that the volcano was one of gigantio proportions. The field covers an area of 25 miles in length, and ranges from half a mile to ten miles in width. Its thickness ranges from 8 to 100 feet. It is fretted and curled, sunken and elevated. In the lava, about a mile and a half from the crater, is an other small crater, and around it on all sides are slides which appear as though old Cloven Foot had been using it for the purpose of dumping the lava. Oth er places resemble a race-track. Some of the scams are from six inches to fire feet in width, caused by the lava cool ing, no doubt. There is no vegetation on the lava, except here and there a lit tle bush struggling for existence. A volcanic scent permeates the entire re gion ; and it is a scene of desolation. There was no running water nearer than four miles from the crater, but there are several fine lakes in the vicini ty. One of them is called Cow Creek Lake, and is two miles wide by three and a half in length. Its average depth is about ten foet. In some places it is 30 feet. Fire fish abound in it, and the hills about the lake are even in outline. Cow Creek Canyon is about six miles long.but very deep and rooky. In some places it is one-quarter of a mile wide and the walls tower upward for several hundred feet. In a narrow gorge I examined some human bones that have turned to f"ssil and are now somewhat decayed. The skull has disappeared ; so I can not tell whether they belonged to a white man. or an Indian. This whole country ii wild, full of new curiosities, but an ex cellent stock-range. The settlements A in font, little IS are very scauenug, " . Jiw at the present known of it. I am posi- H , tire that this crater and this vast fieli of desolation have never been presented to the world before. A Confirmed Smoker. A night or two ago I called to a boj to come and black my boots ; as he wen to work he passed the stump of a cig he had in his mouth to a little m'" an urchin, who didn't seem to be than six years old, but who seized tM stump eagerly and began puffing J at my side. I ventured the advic w him that he was too young a boy smoke, and that he should wait years; to which the youngster, " came about up to my knee, ""rfI with the greatest calm between the p "Well, yer see, when a feller gM JT habit, it's hard to give it np."-W Courier. Matthew Moselet, who ret- memories of the Revolutionary wsr was said to be 110 years old, J -died near West Point, Ga.