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MARY AND HER LITTLE BEAU.
Mart had a little beau An SWO,'t B hP CSMlId be: But every nltOM he wouliUVt ifo, , ' Atif that made misery. For MarTa ma, he never slept. Hut ll"tonsl full of fears; And whon. do Into, poor Mary crept To bod, she'd box ber Mrs. And pa said jra Nll all wore hifrh Anil that ttio coal wm low. And swore ho'fl murder by unci by Thatobapwho wouldn't". ... Ami M vr sh a-row tln and pale; Jf Mi'r l.rer he (few Rtout; Her parents tbroats had no avail : : ; " He would not bo put out. . - t And unite of Mary's woful yue t-l He'd shorel on the cotd. And poke the Are to A bluo And on the sofa loll. At lonrth the pa and ma, both grave, ' Said thlmrs had reached a pass J i . When aomethlnir must be done tn savo t f . Their wlntor's coal and frits. ,',,': '" rhe Vouth's "contentions" thejr must know ' And Mary ma said pho j . Would question Mary's little beau, t And pa said so would he, 1 Mia Mary wept, hut all In rain; j That very n!ht her pa ( Walked In tho parlor with his cane 1 u: - ttobttiri him caine her ma, , 1 '. And then poor Mary's little beau i "' ! Htoppcd poking- at thosrato, ' ,j ' i ' Atid, tiimiuir piilo. said hti piust go . , ; I ..i. Hefore It win too lato. . I ''' '" ftnt ma bites od up against thenoor, 'And pa upheld the cane. And al tna frightened youth he swore 'J ki sum bja niuat remahi Tntll he settled for the gas And ooal that he had scored: t But If a maprlaire came to pits ( Ho'd take It tor the board. . ; V ,. Alaal poor Mary's little beau, ' , Had not wherewith to pay. " And Ifcuved if thoy would lot blm go , t Ho d settle tip nyjtt day, No trust I" the angry parent cried, , , And then he took the bid Across hi knef and awittlv plted Tbu t-ane, for bo wus.tnau. 1 r lt . Then tawed him nnt ttpon the snow, , ' , Atiddonble looked the door; I " ' Which settled Mary's little hoau, ' . .' . w bo never came then- inisro. . 1 ,! . H'llleuiu uV. Y.)Timt. MISS BEULAH'S BONNET. 0 "I Bon't WHiit to W too fine, . jro know; Mary June; soructhin' tasty and kind of suitable. It's an old bunnit; but my! them Leghorps Ml. last a gen eration if you' favor 'em; tliut wis mother's weddiu,' buunit." , i i '"You don't nay o! Well, it has kept remarkably well) but a (food Leg 1 horb will jlast; , that's a fact, though they tot rOiU brittle of tor a siibII; and you'llliave to be awful onreul of thin, Mikh Uuulttli) it' brittk) now, Ieo." ' "Y, I sxpeot it is, but it'll carry me through thin eummer, I (rueaa. Hut I want you to make it reul tasty, Mury Jajio, for my niece, Mias Smith, he thi was 'Liza Barber, is coming to stay awhile to our hoime this nunimor, anil nlie Uvea in the oity, you know." . 'Lir.a Harbor! do tell! Why, I iinron't aeen hor sunce she was knee high to a hop-toad, as you may say. Ho i ain't livin', is IioP' , , "No; he died two years ago, leavin' her with three ehihltun. Sarah is a grown girl; and then there's Jack, he's eight, and Jauey, she's three. Theru was four died between Jack and Sarah. I guess she's full eighteen." 1 "Mercy to me! time flies, don't itP But about the himnit; what should, you say otitis lavelidei 1 ribbinP" ' Aiu't I kind of dark for lavendorP I had an idee to have brown, or mebbo tinrk green." . . ; "Land! fotsiirlni'P Why, tliat alnH the riglit thing. This lavender is real hau'some, and I'll set it off with a little black htce, and put a bow on' t in thoj front; it'll be real dressy and seemly i for you." " Well, you can try It, Mary Jane; but I give you fair warnln', if I think it's too drossy, you'U have to take It all off." - ' , ." "tin williu'," laughed Miss Mary J ana Ikon, a good old s(irrl, and n coh teniporary of btir uustoinor. Miss Reuluh Luriuu.- wlio! was an old timid living In JJorwil tin a small amount of money carefully mvosterl, and owning the great red house which her grandfather had built for a largo family on one owner of his farmi . Mins lietiliili Larkiu was tall, gaunt, hard-fentiireti and good. Evory borfy resiiecled her, some fearetl, and a few loved her; but she was not that ma t of Soul which thirsts to bo loved; her whole duxiru and design was to do her duty and be respectable. Into this luttiir clause came the matter of a bon net, over wuloli she had held such anxious disuourse. . If she hail any fem inine .vanity -anil she was a woman It took this virtuous aspect of a desire to be reapectit like the Iiito," (orceji cy of dress as well as demeanor This spriiijr - she had recelveil a letter from her niece, the widowed Mrs. Smith, asking if she ould come to visit hor.j and sending back a pleased assent, MisM Beulah and her little handmaid, Nanny Starks, bestirred tluimselves to sweep mid garnish the house, already fresh and spotless from its recent animal cleaning. Mrs. Kllza Smith was a poor woman, but a woman ;o reoiiro. Ilur -visit was not jjuTtil)' of atUietioii, or of family respect' Her duuirhler Sarah a i.mit.v. slight, graceful girl, Latl been Intended oy aor ueiitinr to oiossom into Deiuity In dtw seasouA nd,i"Tuhrry ' well," as the ithrase goes; but Sarah and a certain 'roil Wilson, telegraph operator in UartfonU had set all the thrifty mother's I dans at dcthuic,o, and fallen head over teels In love, .regard less of Mrs. Smith or anybody elae. Snt'aN's brows wore not black and" straight, or her chin firm and eleft with a dimple, for nothing; she meant to marry Fred Wilson as soon as was convenient: and Mrs. .Smith having unusual comiuon-senso, as well as previous experience of Sarah's ca pacity of rcslstence, ceased to oppose mat young uuiy a resolute intention. Master Wilson had already eouo West. to a morn lucrative situation than Dart- ford atlonled, and Surah was onlv wait ing to get ready as to her (ill Hit, and anuiss enough . money for the cost of tnsYi'lui, in follow him, since he was unble.i fcjdib. former, both from lauk oi pinasy ami uuio. in this condition of lliing it oocurred to Mrs. Smith that it would save a gooil ileal of money if she could spend the summer with Aunt Beulah, and so he apiu'cd the expense of board and lodging for her family. Ac cordingly, she looked about for a tenant for her little house; and lltidlng one reaily to come iu sooner than she had anticipated, she answered Aqnt Heuleh's friendly letter of invitation with an Im. mediate acceptance, ami followed her own epistle at once, and. arriving, alas for Mis; lleulnM before that Leghorn bonnet' batl come home from Miss Beers' front parlor. In which she car rion on her nourishing millinery buji nesa. Miss Larkiu was unfcignedly glad' U ee Kllza again, and, giving the rust an equal wslooniui 4tHbiwliud Hu tu In the clean, lurire.-eool 'Chainliers that were ucn a contrast to the hot rooms, small and dinnv. of their nitv honi. Jack waa a veritable little pluklo; tail of his age, and light of foot and hand: nature had fr ned him in body and mind for mischief; while Sarah was a pleasant, handy young girl as long as nothing opposed her, and Janey a round and rosy itoppet. who axiomd Jack'.niwt rebelled syninat her mother and Snrali hourlv. J:wk was alsorn nuisance; Miss Beulah ould h:vrjll I' tj 1 1 1 1 ro dim. ha did so conVrovitrt all ihooi'lers MiiljuutiiH'ts of heriioat) housa-' IK .-jia-sV Mi's. Smith lieiran to fear her visit wauld be prematurtdv ihortenel on Jack's account, and Sarah, who had wisely confided her love affair to Aunt Beulah, and stirred that hardened heart to its core by her pathotio tale of pov erty and separation, began to dreau the failure of her hones also, for her aunt had more than hinted that -ah-mtilri give something toward that traveling money which was now the girl's great object in life, since by diligent sewing she had almost finished her bridal out lit. As for Janey, she was already, in spite of her naughtiness, hiistress of Aunt lleulah s very soul. II Janey said, "Tumi" in hor imperative way. Miss Beulah came, whether her hands were in the wash-tub or the bread-ray. Janey ran riot over her most cherished customs, and whllo she did not hesitate to scold or even slap Jack liarshly for his derelictions, sb had an excuse always ready for Januy'g worst sins, and a kiss instead of a blow for her wildest exploits of mischief. Jack hated the old aunty' as hiueh as he feared her tongtfo and hand, nnd this only msdo matters worse, for. he. felt a certain right to torment her that would not nave oeen cemsniercu a ligiu. nan he fell instead any shame for abusing her kindness; but a soft answer from her never turned away his wrath, or this tale of woe about her bonnet ,hiid never been told. .';,,,'i!' There had been long delay otincrn ing that article; the bleaches hnl bevn slow, and the presser impracticable; it had been sent back'iiuce lube-reshaped. and then the lavender ribbon bad proved of scant measure, and h:ul ; to be matched; but at' last, ono hot day in May, Nanny brought" Wi iriieer old bamlbox homo from . Mrs. Hcors , and Aunt Beulah held tirt hor head-gear to be commented on. It was reallv a very good-lookinw bonnet ; the firm satin rib bon was a pleasant tint, and contrasted woll with the pale color of the Leghorn, and a judicious use of black lace crave it an air of sobriety and elegance combined, which pleased Miss tisulah s eye, laud oven moved Mrs. Smith to express ap probation. i I: r. 1 ' 1 Well, I'm tree to own it suits me,. said the old lady, eyeing the glass With her head a little on one side, as a bird eyes a worm. " It's neat, and It's be comin', as fur as a bunnrt can be Said to be becomin' to an old womnnthongh I ain't really to call'' Old: Mary Jane Beers is oldor than me, and sho ain't but seventy-three jest as spry as a lark. too. Yes; I like the bunnlt; butitdoos son oi seem as mougn tui bow wa'u't really in the midill What do you. think,, 'LizyP" , , " I tlon't see but. what It's f sort of seem as thouijh that .there lddlu oi It. i : It's straight. Aunt Hetiluh." " i'ain't," said the s6iuster. HrmlvJ ' Sary, you look at it," .. i ,. i .... . ; t; i. . . .1 I. -L 1 ouiau s eye wua iiuur wjuu our iiioin- er s. " 1 is a mite too tar to the left. Aunt Bculuh; but I guess I can fix it." You let her take it,"' said1 Mrb. Smith. " She's a real good hand at millinery; sho made her own hat, and Janey's, tix. 1 should hate to have he.r mi Her nana to tliut Dunnit 11 she wu n t. for It's real pretty 'specially for a place like Dorset to get up." ' , , " L.av It on on the table. Aunt lieu lah. I'm going tip stairs to make my bed, and I'll fetch my work-basket down, and tlx that bow straight in a jifly" ' ell. I must bo uo too-" saul Mi's. Smith, ud followed .Serali out of the room: but Miss lleulah. .thouo-ll" dtitv called her too, in the imperative' shapi of a batch of broad waiting to be mold ed tip, lingered a little longer, poising tlie ooiinui on ner imnn, noidinjr it on to get a distant view, tnrnlnp: It froiu side to side, and, in short, behaving ex actly as younger and prutiiyr wouuu do over a new hat, even when it is a mira cle of art from Paris, Instead of a ro vamped Leghorn j'rom a couiitr'y shop ' She laid H down, with a long. bi'uutU of Content,' for taste luid 'ocouomy iiad done their heat for her; land lliea sbe too left the room, never pencuivinirthac Jack and Janey had beau ail the time deeply engaged nuilcr the great old fashioned breakfast table, silently rip ping up a new doll to see what was in side it silently, because they had fin. Huward uoustiiousness that it wits mis chief thev wore about, khd Jllcs. tit jcast, diil not want to-be interrupted tin he was tliruu, iniL'h. 13ut Ue..haU - Bo - been too busy to hear and understand Auub Bstilstlf wsjs1 rltjasifrr.Ayind still smartiug lioin ilia swtteti with which the had whipped Jiisakouldurs that very morning for putting tho cat into the Cistern, he saw an opportunity for re venge neioro ins eyes; no would bide this precious bonnet bo Aunt Ueulah could never find it again. How to do this and not bo found oity Miyt a prob lem to ba roimiilurod; hut. mischief Is fjulck-wittcd. , Tlujre. stood Uthe wiu- think of looking; anif'tfT saYeT'himBolf from conse(uences, he resulted to Uiake Janey a cut's-iiitt; lofhu Jed her up to the tahlej liiuile i linrAlift the precious hat and tier" i under tne cushion, which he raised for the pur pose; then carefully (lropp'urg tlfe frill, lie tugged Janey, unwilling, j tilt scared ami silent, out Into the yard, and impressing on her infant miudwith wild threats of bears ami o-nns that she must never tell where tha h s, Jet was, he contrived to Inicn st lici a new play so liiliuisely thai the. biirutct went utierly into oblivion, as far as she was concerned; and when thoy were called iu 'o 'dinner, and she had taken her dally nap, Janov had bcdirfno as inuo oeiu sif mischief bilku"$vn ni0Hsi ':iH the dolly who 1 iy all tllsit it bowels i)i(l forlorn under vliu tablis.; j Wy 1 ; j 4 When Sarah caiim duwu'nnd ilnT not find the bonnet, she concluded Aunt Beululi hail put it away in hun own room, for feara sacrflegiodsfly oi'iced less speck of dual might dtt 1 it harm; so she look up a bit of Lusi site' wits knit ting and went out Into the potvhj glad to-get Into aoool pUce-the day was so warm. ' And whon the bread was molded up Aunt Beulah came back, and not sce'iutr hor bonnet, HiipK.sojtt biuali,.h.l flikeii It up-stairs te 'change the, bojn-.j! Huui was not an lmpatieui. woman, and the multor whs not pivssuiir,( lit hUo nnld nothini; about the uoniieu at s Hurler, but hiu-ricd over that meitl in orijcrto liuish ber baking. Mrs. Smith had not come down again, for a morning headache hud so increased upon her she had laiu down, so that no one disturbed the rooking chair-In -Which that bonnet lav hhl till Mis. Bluke, the minister's wife", oaitio in to make, HilB", about four' o i'iiics. one was a siout woman, anil uuty a lai'ga. rucKiiig-ohiiUv.woJl slullv'd under its chintz 'coyer, ikuil(.Jiptling a plump soft feather' cushion .so. .big it fairly overffifwetl the scat.V fjtideir this cushion he was ' sure ' hnbrmv won il the walk had tlredjtvr A'-it Boihib' i,,. .: 5 rich -iH m'"' Rni1 niing ji put oi.liia open dew, lest hercurpet should sutler, eevorted to the cliair in a sueoud. j sttioii transfixed. ...... vit... '. - i .- I ' Hat umier . the , evet-laatm v'jjU to my miudjdnlu'latin: (o wctii tt nil 1 i ,. hospitable Instincts were roused by that red, weary ace. " Joti't-ej ilreailftd warm, ain't you, WS BlnkdP" said she. "It's an umazin' warm day for this time of year, and it's consider ble more'na heu-hop frtm ybsir house up hero. Lay yrair htlnnit ltr, do, and set down 'in the rocker. I'll tell Nanny to fetch some, shrub and water; our raspberry shrub is good, if I do say it, and it's kep' oarer as good as new." So Mrs. Blake removed hor bonnet and sank down on that inviting cushion with all hor weight, glad enough to rest, and ignorant of thd m'omcntoas consequences. Her call was somewhat prntractett. AfrWthc 'whole - village news had been discussed, Mrs. Blake rose to go,- tied cm her bonnet, and snid good-by all round, quite as Ignorant as her hosts of allMtha reuiqdUons. ruin she bad' done., ",,;'. r' . i.... i ; , i , It was tea-time nowv and as thny sat about the ttthlu, . Snjrnh said, "I guess I'll fix i your bonnet nftor tea, auntv; 'twou't taka but a minute, and I'd rather do it while I recollect just whete that bow goe,"i i ' " Why. I though' you hnd fixed It!" retnnvx Miss Bcttla'h.', " , MYeH,.lPnmrlghnit(cVEp"6u It wan't hefe." I thought, ioii'd ,Wk it IntoHtUtr bedroom.'' , ,. ., . ,,1 "T halh't touched it since it lay right here on the table.". .- "I'll run im.aud pft.P1' ma'ho she laid it' nv. But Mrs. Smith hat not beerti down stairs since she left Aunt lleulah with the bonnet in her hands; nnd now the old lady turned oh Jack: '"Have you bos) and carried off-my tiuhiiit; you lit tle bosom?;'' fl-u iu ii,,l;,..w-'lc .,..: j "I haiu t t)u.ulied yonn yld oanei," rctiirloil Jink, Willi gnunl acorn. ! ' "I don't believe he has," iaid Sarah; "for when I com "flown stall's "and found it wnn'tthrtiT. I'acnt Out and set on the bench to- Pho -I rent door, and I heard him and Janey awfiy on ,the other side of the Vard plariti' imf J tu. know'they wati'tlrf her 'wheti the lwii net eorhe.';'''" ' .'. "Well, of course .Janey niisn't seen It, if Jack hasn't; and, if she had, the blessed child wouldn't have touched old aunty's bunnlt for1 a dollar .would she, precious lambP" and Aunt Beulah stroked the bright curls of her darling, who looked tip into her face ami laughed, while Jack grinned broailly between his bites of bread and butter, master of the situation, and full of 'sweet revenge. " And Nanny hain't seeu It, I know," went on Aunt Beu lah, "for she was- along of me the whole enduring time; but I'll, ask her; ''tain'aljst breath to ask, my mother used to say, and mabbe it's a gala." , , Ths old lady strodo out into the kitchen with knit brows, but came back without any . increased knowledge. "Shehainlt been in here once seme she sot down the bandbox; and bonie to think on't, I know she haln'tv .fori I cleared, tlie table myself to-day,', ntul, beside, the bilnnit wa'n't here at dinner-time. . t Now, let's hunt for it. Things don't gener'lly vanish awat without hands: but if we can't find, np hands, why, it's as good as the next thing to look for the bimnit.", , , ', . j So they wont to work and searched the house, as they thought, most thor oughly: no nook or corner but was in vestigated if it was large enough to hold that bonnet, but nobody once thought of looking under the chair cushion. The) boiuiet was evidently lost, and Jack, Who hiul followed the domestic detec tives up stairs and down, retired behind the wood-pile and executed "h Joyful danee to relieve his suppressed feelings. 1 For several days this.'. deluded spinster! mused ami ma7.crt over her botiuet. go ing to ohurch on Sunday in her shabby old velvet bat, and boforethe wecltwiis half done, sho, had settled into a pro found belief that soma tramp had passed whilQ they were all out of the 'room, and, charmed by that lavender sarin ribbon and bhwk : htoe,'; stolen 'the bon Dct and curried i off to sell; anil many a time did Miss Henlah sit- rocking to and fro on top of hef prvcirins Leghorn, wondering and 'lenKalilng tt il loss. But murder will tiiit so)notiines, uud would certainly 1 have come out in the weekly cleaning the: next .Satimlay, if on the Friday moinlng Miss Bouluh hud not set down, ' a pitcher of . milk, just brought In by a neighbor, on the end of the fable nearest to that rocking-chair '- sct it dnw, oidy for iuouienb.;to)rt the neighbor, a recipw lor sugan giliger breml, bvcnliur itq the .Larkin family. Jui)ey hajipenedi to ba thirstyv"' atitl rqacueu alter me puoner. mm was just tall enough to grasp the handle" so low ilowu that when she nulled 'at iL steinly- i ?n(t uerseu agiunst- ine cimir, it tiomni ! siileways, ami poured a copious stream i vt fresh .milk -arm tho cushjoif, ,.,'TUe i pumiz was 0111, ami nan lost, its irlaze, ami the feathers were Iiirht, so the rich fluid soaked in at once, and , before, the.' two women, recalled rromtlin cupboard' by Janey's scream, could "reach the tiltiflier, there was only a very soppy and1 wet enshiofi it tho chair. . , , I " Kor merey'a sulyesj said the ncigii bor; but Miss Buiiliih,' with L'reat mi's- ence of mind, sntichetl up the dripping wm- She and cano py P" broke' from her .dismayed lips, for there, flattened out almost bevoud rec- oirultion..and brtiken wlu-ntvus it .wni oetit, irs lavender ribbons soaked with milk, the uhcsu,lut.liii4paDliilaigledi iy ine remains ol the Leghorn bom lu't.. .:. ' i. . . 1 i.i ..f. - . ' I v Of all tilings!" exulairaud the neigh wir, hut lu(re was an hi of iireptea- sioie amuscuu'ut in ner tones. Aunt IVnlah glaretl at her, uud lifted the (1 imp bonnet's tenderly as1 If it had b 'Uil Janey's ourls, regit rdiwg'it with an expression pen ot'ptlnail falls to nVplct; B luixturo of grief, .pify, iudigimlitm and amazement, that, together with ,tUe curious look of the bonnet, was too Clinieh for the neighbor, aud, to use her own after expression In ilescriblng the scene, shu t'snitkorso) right out." 1 '" Laugh, do," said Aunt Heuiuh.wilh eringly; " do ,lngh , , guess if your bust bunnlt hud bun set tut uud dniwud e(, you'd laugh' tho other side o Jour nioii'thv'.MIss 'Jacksod. ''Thlri' ls! too miich!" k Well. I be sorry,'? said the -placable female; "but it does look So dreilful ridiculous like I couldu't noways help myself. But how nu earth did rt git there. I admire to know?" " - 'I donu myself as I know; bub I hull) t a doubt jn mv own mind it was licit besom of fi Jfu-. i IU is laic, fttUunt of !iic;iiiiu piii; mid,, actual ti ailrgrussiou of any hoy,,ltnii; .., )ie tliJ say, now I CalF lo iniiiil, that iu hadn't nowr touched ft, biili I jliiolrulb he did; he beats all fur mischief that, ever I see. I n) free to say 1 novur did 'like hoyV: I sappose .Divide l'rovliMire'tntihiinVd 'etit to Some gisid eud, but lt (akiit sight o' grace tio1 bclivee it: nnd oj all thojlHiys tliut ever was sent Into (bis. world for any purpose, I do Relieve ho is the hatefulest. , I d Just got mv.buu,. I summer, and I am a mite pernlcklty, I'll allow that, about my bunniis. VelL 'talji't jio use ,to ory over spilt milk." . i i "I'll fittchyesome more to-morrow," Said the literd neighbor. "You're real eood. Miss Jackson. but I'm more, exercised a lot about my ounnn man i oe about tlie milk. . Sary, look a-herel" Sarah just coming In at the door, did look,, ad, like ; Mrs. Jackson, folt a strong desire to smile, but with native tact controlled it. , " Why, whore on earth did you 'find ft, Aitnt Beulahf" " Kicht under the mcknr piishinn Tfmut have ben there whon Miss Blake eome in that day and set down thore, for I remombor- thinkin' Nanny must ha'shook that cushion up niore'n usual, it looked so comfortable and high." " I sWt ronder It's flat, if Miss Btuks set on't," eiireled Mrs. Jackson. tit,n bioh Aunt Beulah's faoe darkened sc) piffoeptiblf that the good neighbor took her leave. Comedy to her was tragedy to the unhappy owner of the bonnet, and she had the sense to know she was alien to the spirit of the hour, and go home. "But how did it B-et thoreP asked Sarah. " You tell," replied Miss Beulah, for I can't. I do mistrust Jack." "Jack said he hadn't touched it. though, and it couldu't get there without fir J? Well, niahbo Jnekilnn'tnlwftri mv the thing that is; 'foolishness is bound np In the heard of a child,' Scripture says, and I guess he hain't had enough of the rod o' correction to drive it out of him yet. He's the behavin'est young ster I ever see, and I'm quite along m years, if I be pry.!' ' , ' "I'll call him, aunty, and see what he'll say this time." ' J won t be no use; if he s lied once. he'll lie twice; Scriptur says the devil was. a liar from the lieginnin', and I ex pect that means that lyin' is ingrain. I never knowed it to be fairly knocked out of anybody yet, even when arnazin' grace wrastled with it. But you call Jack, anvhow." So Jack was called. He came-- in, with Janey. flushed. lovely and dirty, trottine behind him. and was confronted with the bonnet. "Jack, did you hide it?" " I hain't tout-hod vour old bonnet. I said so before" An Idea struck Sarah. "Janey," she said, sharply, "did you put . aunty's bonnet under tho cushion?" , Janey don't . 'member." said the child, smiling as innocently as the con ventional cherub of art. Well, you must remember!" said Sarah, picking her up from the floor, and setting her down with emphasis on tne tame. Janey begun to cry. ''Naughty Salah hurt Janev!" and the piteous tears coursed down her rosy dust-smeared cheeks from those bie- blue eyes that looked like dew-drowned for get-me-nots. Aunt Beulah could not stand this. ,4' You let that baby alone, Sarahl She uon t Know enough to be naughty, bless her dear little soul! There, there, don't you ory a mite more, Janey. Aunty'll give i you ginger-cookoy this very minute! ' . And Janey was comforted with kisses aud smiles and gingerbread, her face washed, and hor curls softly turned on Binder lingers, while Jack, lonirine for gingerbread with the preternatural ap- jroum jx a gtvvviiig uuj, n tya nuui, ou iu disgrace. " I make no doubt you done it, you little rascal, and lied it out, too. But I don't b'licve you no more for your lyin' j so don't look for no extrios from me. Fellers like vou don't tret c-in- geibreud nor turnovers, now I toll you!",. , . . How Jack hated her! how glad he was he had spoiled her bonnet! Shall I draw a moral here to adorn my tale? No, dear reader; this is not a treatise on education. Miss Beulah was a good woman, and If sho made mistakes, like the rest of us, she took the conse quences, as the rest of us do; and the consequences of this spoiled bonnet were nut yet onded. She felt as if she must have a new one for Sunday. She really did not now how to afford it, for she had promised to help Sarah, and in her eyes a promise was as sacred as an oath; aud as for giving up her subscriptions to home missions, that would be a will ful sin. But without a bonnet she t'buld not go to meeting, and that was h sin, too. So she put on hor suu-bon-liet, and, tnking the wreck of the Leghorn, carefully concealed in a pu er, she set out after tea that same ivening for a conference with Miss leers, stopping at the post-oltice as ho went ulong. She fouud one letter awn'nXng her, aud knew by the super scriptiou that it was from a second cousin of hers in Durtford, who had charge of such money of hers as was not in the savings bank, or Dartford and Oldbay Railroad stock a load pay ing steady dividends. "Of all things!" said Miss Beors, lifting np hands and eyes during Miss Beulah's explanations. "And you can't do nothing with it never. Why, it's llattcr'n a pancake. .Well, you couldn't i-Kpeet nothing else,' with Miss Bluke ion top bn't; she'd suuash a baby out as thin as a tin plate if she happened to set on't, which 1 do hope alio won't. Svu! the Leghorn's all broke up. I told you 'twas dreadful brittle; and the rib liiti is spoiled entire. You oan't never dean lavender, nor yet satin, it frays so;, and the litre is all gum; anywuy, that's gone. Might as well chuck the hull Into the lire." ' "f So do, Mary Jano, so do. I never want to set oyes on't again. I haven't no patience, with that boy now, and the bufmtt riles me to look at, I do want to do right by the bov, but it goes uirainst the grain dreadul. But don't let's talk about him. ' What have you got that '11 do for a bunnit for me?" Then the merits of the various bon nets iu Mies Beers' small stock were canvassed. A nice black chip suited Aunt lleulah well, but try as she would, Alias Beers could not get It up for less than six dollars, and that only allowed twenty-live cents for her own work. The alternative was a heavy, coarse straw, which she proposed to deck with a yellow-edged bluck ribbon, and put some gold-eyed black daisies iuside. But Mlss Beulah did wunt the chip. " Vet's see," said she. " Mabbe this year's dividend is seven per cent.) 'tis once In a while. I'll see what Cousin Joseph says, . If 'tain't more limn usual, I musl take the straw." But Cousin Joseph had to tell her that, owing to damage by flood and fire, as well as a general "disturbance of Ihusinoas all over the country, the C. A. .( 'onnmriy paid no dividend this year. ' Then I shan't have uo bunnit," said Miss Larkin, firmly. I' " Why, you've got to have some kind of a buunit," said the amazed Miss (leers. " I hain't got to if I can't." " But why oan't ye, Beulah? All your money and all your dividends aln I In that comp'ny." " Well, there's other uses for money this year besides bunnits." " You oan't go to meptlnV . "I can stay to homo." "' "Why, Beulah Larkin, I'll trust you, and welcome," "But I won't bo trusted. I never was, and I nover will be. What if I should up and die?" "I'd sue the estate," practically re marked Miss Beors. " No: ' out of debt, out of danger,' mother always said, and I bellevein't. I shall hate to stay to home Sundays, but I can go to prayer-mcetin' in my slut bunnit well enough." "Why, the churcn'll deal with ye, Beulah,' if yo neglect stated means of grace." " Let 'em deal," was the undaunted answer. Miss Boulah hail faced the situation, arranged it logically, and accopted it. She had promised Sarah fifteen dollars in June; she had lost a divitlend of twelve dollars on which she had reckoned with certainty; five dollars was due to home missions; and with her increased family, thore would be no margin for daily expenses. There wens twenty dollars in the savings bank over and above the five hundred she had laid up for a rainy day, and left in her will, mado and signed but last week, to little Janey. On this she would not trench, como what might, except in case of absolute distress, and the twenty dollars wero sacred to Sarah and home missions. But this was her private affair; she would not make the poverty of her niece known abroad, or the nature of her will. If the church chose to deal with hor, it might, but her lips should never open to explain. A commonplace martyrdom enough, and less than saintly, because so much of human pride and self-will mingled in its suffering, yet honesty and upright ness are so scarce in these days as to make even such a sturdy witness for them respectable and many a woman who counts herself a model of sanc tity might shrink from a like daily or deal. But Aunt Beulah set hor face as a flint, and pursued her way in silence. June came and went, and with it went Sarah to her expectant bridegroom in Chicago, from whence a paper with due notice of her marriage presently re turned. Aunt Boulah strove hard to make both ends meet in her house keeping, and being a close manager, succeeded. But while Aunt Beulah toiled and moiled, and filled her wide measure of charity toward these widowed and fatherless with generous hand, the church, mightily scandalized at her ab sence from its services, was preparing to throw a shell into her premises. It was all very well to say to Miss Beers that she was not afraid of such a visita tion, but a trouble at hand is of quite another aspect than a trouble afar off; her heart quailed and fluttered when, one July afternoon, Nanny ushered into the dark cool parlor Deacon Morse aRI Deacon Flint, come to ask her why she had not attended church since the mid dle of last May, when she was in usual health and exercise of her faculties. Miss Beuluh, however, was equal to the occasion. She faced the deacons stern ly, but calmly. a "It is so," she said, when they had finished their accusation. "I hain't ben to meetin', for good cause. You can't say I've did anything that's give occasion to tho enemy more'n this. I've attended reg'lar toprayer-meetin's andsewin' circle; I've give as usual to home missions; you can t say I'vemade any scandal, or done nothin' out o' rule, save an' except stavin' at home Sabbath days; and my family has attended puuo tooally." But this did not satisfy the' deacons; they pressed for a reason. ' " If you would free your mind. Sister Larkin, it would be for the good of the churoh," said Deacon Morse. " Mabbe 'twouldn't be altogether to your likin', deacon, if I did free my mind. Seems as though stayln' at home from meetin' wa'n't no worse 'n saudin' sugar an' waterin' rum, aud I never hoerd you was dealt with for them .things." Deacon Morse was dumb, but Deacon Flint took, up tho discourse. " Well, Sister Larkin, we didn't know but what you was troubled in your mind." "I ain't!" snapped Miss Beulah. " Or perhaps was guttiu' a mite doubtful about doctrines or suthin." ' No, I ain't. I go by the 'Sembly's Catechism, and believe in every word on't, questions and all." " V ell, you seem to bo a leetle con tumacious. Sister Larkin, so to speak; if you had a good reuson, why, of course you'd be willin' to tell it." This little syllogism caught Miss Beu lan. . "Well, If you must know, I hain't got no bunnit." , . The deacons stared mutually, and Deacon Morse, forgetful of his defeat, and curious, as men Daturally are, asked, abruptly, " Why not?" " 'Cause Miss Blake sot on it." i The two men looked at each other in blank amazement, and shook their heads. Here was a pitfall. Was it proper, dignified, possible, to Investi gate this truly feminine tangle? They were dying to enter into particulars, but ashamed to do so: nothing was left but retreat. Miss Beulah perceived tlie emergenoy, and chuckled grimly. This was the last straw. The deacons rose as one man, and said, " Good-day," with an accent of reprobation, going their ways in deep doubt as to what they should report to the church, which certainly would not receive with proper gravity the announcement that Miss lleulah Larkin could not come to church because the minister's wife had sat on her Sunday bonnet. The strifo of tongues, however, did not spare Aunt Beulah, if the deacons did, and for a long time Miss Beers, who had the key to the situation, did not hear any of the gossip, partly because she had been ill of low fever, and then gone to her sis ter's in Dartford for change of air, and partly that during July aud August the sewing circle was temporarily suspend ed. But it renewed its sessions in Sep tember, and Miss Beers was an active member, sure to be at the first meet ing. It was then and there she heard the scorn and jeers aud unfounded stories come on like a tidal wave to overwhelm her friend's character. She listened a few minutes in silence, grow ing more and more indignant. Then for she was a little woman, as far as stature went she mounted into a chair, and demanded tho floor In her own fashion. " Look-a-here!" said she, her shrill voice soaring above the busy clapper of tongues below. "It's a burnin' shame to say a hard word about Beulah Larkin. She's as good a woman as breathes the breath of life, and I know tlie hull why and wherefore she hain't ben to meetin'. She hain't had no bun nit. I made her as tasty a bunnit as ever you see lust spring, uud that jackanapes of a boy he chuckod it un der the rockor cushion jest to plague her,' and Miss Blake she come In and sot riglit tlown on it, not knowln', of course, that 'twas there, and as if that wan't enough to spoil it" (an involun tary titter seemed to express tlie sense of tho audience that It was), " that other sprig she took and upsot a pitcher of milk onto the cushion, and you'd bottor believe that bunnit was a sight." 'Why didn't she get another?" severely asked Deacon Morse's wife. " WhyP Why, becos she's a most a saint, llcr dividends some ou 'era did't come in, and she'd promised that biggest girl fifteen dollars to help hor get out to herfeller at Chicago, for Sary told me on't herself; and then she gives five dollars to hum missions every year, and she done it this year jest the same, and she's took that widder and them orphans home all summer, and nigh about worked her head off for 'em, and never charged a cent o' board: and thereby she hain't had no money to buy no bunnit, and goes to prayer-mectin' in her calico slat." A rustle of wonder and respect went through the room as the women moved uneasily In their chairs, exohanged glances, and said, "My!" which in spired Miss Beers to go on. "And here everybody's ben a-tnlkin' bad about her, while she's ben a real homo-mado kind of a saint. 1 know she don't look it, but she doos it. and that's a sight better. I don't b'lieve there's one woman in forty could ha' had tho grit and the perseverance to do what she done, ami hold her tongue about it too. I know I couldn't for one." " She shouldn't ha' lot her good be evil spoken of," said Mrs. Morse, with an air of authority. "I dono as anybody had oughter have spoken evil of her good," was Miss Beers' dry answor, andMrs. Morse said no more. But such a warm and generous vindi cation touched many a feminine heart, which could appreciate Miss Beulah's self-sacrifice better than the deacons could. There was an immediate clus tering and chattering among the good women, who, if they did love a bit of gossip, were none the less kindly and well-meaning, and presently a spokes womnn approached Miss Beers with the proposition that if she would make Miss Beulah a handsome bonnet, a dozen or more had volunteered to buy the mate rials. " Well," Bnid Miss Mary Jane, wiping hor spectacles, " this is real kind; and I make no doubt but what Beulah1 d think the same, though she's a master-hand to be independent, and some folks say proud mabbe she is; but I know she couldn't but take it kind of friends and neighbors to feel for her. However, there ain't no need on't. It seems that Sarah's husband ain't very forehanded, and she's got a dreadful taste for the millinery business; so she's gone to work in one of the fust shops there, and is gettln' great wages, for her; and only yesterday there come a box by express for Miss Beulah with the tastiest bunnit in it I ever see in my life. I tell you it was everlastin' pret ty. Sary she sent a note to say she hoped Aunt Boulah'd give her the pleasure to accept it, for she'd knowed all along how that she was the cause of hor goin' without a bunnit all snmmor (I expect her ma had writ to her), and she felt real bad about it. You'd hot ter b'lieve Beulah was pleased." And Miss Beulah was pleased again when the women from the village be gan to call on her even more frequent ly than before, and express cordial and friendly Interest in a way that surprised her, all unaware as she was of Miss Beers' enthusiastic vindication of her character before the sewing circle Yet, poor, dear, silly old woman onlv a woman, after all nothing so thrilled and touched her late-awakened heart as little Janey's soft caresses and dimpled patting hands on that sallow old face, when she climbed into her lap the next Sunday, and surveying Miss Beulah's now bonnet, exclaimeil, with her sil very baby voice, "Bitty, pitty bon net!" Jack did not say anything about it, nor did the congregation, though on more than one female face beamed a furtive congratulatory smile, and Dea con Flint looked at Deacon Moreo across the aisle. If there is any moral to this story as no doubt there should bo it lies in tlie fact that Mrs. Blake never again sat down in a chair without first lifting the cushion. Rose Terry Cooke, in Har per's Mayazine. Furnish Your Boys with Tools. Puof. John K. Sweet, In an ad dress before the Onondaga County Farmers' Club, said: "The farmer who provides himself with the neces sary tools to do the repairing of the farm not only mukes a 'paying invest ment but dues for his sons, in another way, just exactly what he does for them at school. He gives thmi a chance to learn something; he does even more he gives them a chance to do something. From among those boys will be found the mechanical engineers of the future." It would be difficult to crowd more truth and common sense iuto this short stiace. It is well known among me chanics that when an apprentice " learns to handle his tools " his trade Is half learned. No man can even saw off a fence board as it should be done without considerable practice. He must first learn to handle his saw. Not half of mankind to say nothing of woman kind-can drive a nail without either splitting the board or pounding their fingers, and perhaps they will do both. Not one man in twenty can shove a jackplane with any reasonable hopes of success, and the like awkward ness extends to the use of all manner of tools. If farmers will furnish their boys with tools, and teach them how to Keep them in order, the next genera tion will not be so helpless, when any thing is broken, as is the present one. With a few dollars invested in tools, many journoys to town may be avoided. Moreover, by the use of tools one may learn something of mechanics, and is a much better judge when called upon to select any machinery or tools. I remember an instance, when a bov, of a neighbor who had a small work shop, with an assortment of tools, whioh his boys were allowed to use, and the consequences were, his five boys, every one of them, became in time first-class mechanics. Other boys in the same neighborhood, apparently equally intelligent, almost without an exception, grew up to be bunglers, some of them without sufficient skill to sharpen a sled-stake. Rural Hew Yorker. The Boston Globe notices that King Alfonso wears a necklace of black beans as a charm. Boston papers al ways did speak well of Alfonso, and they have stood by him faithfully in two marriages and oriier troubles. It was tho beau. N. 0. f'caytine. New York Diamond-Owners and Horse Fanciers. Tim attention of the public Is at tracted by the recent diamond thefts which have occurred among what aro called "gentlemen." E. K. Stouten burgh, who Inherited an income of ,(HK), but has wasted his property, has just boon sentenced to the I'enitentiary fur two years, tlfb crime being of this nature: A diamond had been placed in his caro, and ho had an imitation (made of paste) substituted for the originnl stone. Another ease Is that of Crowley, who has had a friend arrested for a sim ilar offense. In another Instance a gen tleman took a diamond ring to a gold smith for repair. Ho called for it in a few minutes, but found tho stone re moved and a pasto imitation substituted. It Is not now considered safe to leave a ring for any such purpose, anil hence In cases of repair tlie owners remain and watch the work until it be finished. This being the case among respeotable people, we need not wonder at the at tempts made on such property by pro fessional thieves. Tlie dealers in precious stones de cline mentioning tne names of their best customers, as this would expose them to the attempts of sneak-thieves and burglars. The luttor, however, have a very correct idea of the diamond owners, and such property may well be considered unsafe. This is shown by the fact that a leading performer who owned a larger amount of jewelry locked it carefully in her trunk and then locked her room. Tho flat was also locked so that no one could enter unless admitted (except by tho use of false keys), but when the lady returned she found that both her room and her trunk had been entered and property to tho amount of $3,000 taken away. The thieves evidently knew whore the plun der lay, and had been on the watch for an opportunity. Another case was that of Mrs. Daniel Torrence, daughter of Commodore Vanderbilt, whose dia monds were enrried off by a midnight thief in a sudden and mysterious man ner. Thoy were valued' at $6,000, and have never been recovered. It is said that John Jacob Astor al ways has a detective in his service, anil his dwelling is never left unguarded. Hence he has never suffered from those depredations to which reference has been mude. The detective who ac companies Mrs. Astor to all places where her diamonds are to be displayed is said to be an elegantly-drossed gen tleman, who mingles quietly among the guests, and yet keeps a constant watch upon the $i)0,000 worth of diamonds worn by his patroness. Speaking of the above-mentioned family, reference may be made to the changes in a rich man's taste. William Astor has just sold his racers, and has retired from the turf. Ho held a temporary distinction among sporting men, but has become weary of the ex pense and annoyance inseparable from such pursuits. A man must have a natural love of horses to adhere to equine amusements. Astor only "took it up" ns an imitator of Belmont and Bonnor. The latter, however, have a well-known passion for such animals, which explains their lavish expendi ture Bonner's outlay for taking care of one hundred line horses is not less than twenty thousand dollars a year. When you add to this the interest on the estimated value of tho animals (three hundred thousand dollars), you have an expense equal to three hundred and eighty dollars per week. This is a degree of enthusiasm unequaled in the record of horsemanship. For hirty years Bonner has been buying the finest horses in America, and still Tie is, like wiiver i wist,, nsaiiig ior more. iv. j. Cor. Cincinnati Gazette. Hotel Bills in France. All the big Parisian hotels give a sumptuous table d'hote dinner for about five shillings a head, wino includ ed, which is not dear; but thoy recoup themselves by thoirextravagautcharges for what is eaten in private rooms or ordered in the dining-room a la carte. Thus a plain breakfast of tea or coffee and bread and butter served in a sitting-room is charged forty cents for ono poison; but if there bo two persons the chargo is doubled, und a family of five persons are made to pay two dollars, which is absurd. Add eggs and bacon to the feast and the bill reckons not for the dish of these delicacies which is actually consumed, but for " five break fasts of bacon and eggs, at eighty cents per head" tota'. four dollars. In most of the bio hotels the charo-oa foe a siphon of seltzer water is forty cents, though its trade cost is no more than three sous a gloss; a glass of sherry is charged thirty cents; four sandwiches, fifty cents; a pint bottle of beer, thirty cents, and a plate of biscuits, sixty cents. It may be alleged that attendance has to be included in these items; but attendance, after having been amply charged for in the bill, has again to be paid under the form of tips to tlie ser vants. If a traveler, after settling his weekly account, neglected to add a five frano piece for the waiter, he would find himself condemned to a good deal of exercise with his electric bell during the ensuing seven days and get weak tea and cold eggs for breakfeast into the bargain. 1 here is an astute freemason ry among hotel servants, and if the waiter be dissatisfied with a particular set of travelers, the porter and cham bermaid take care to make their dis pleasure folt also. All of them expect to be liberally paid when a traveler leaves the hotel. Now, consider what a hotel company really makes by charging attendance for these persons who have to be paid for by travelers twice and thrice over.' As a rule, one waiter, a chambermaid and a porter are allowed for every twelve rooms or sets of rooms on a first and second floor; and the charge for at tendance on these floors being at the rate of fifty cents a day, we have $6 a day, or 4180 a month, for service. But the wages of & hotel waiter are but $5 a mouth; those of a chaimbermaid $3, and of a porter $i; and if to these sums one adds $10 a month for the keep of the -three servants, one finds that the hotel clears more than 9128 monthly by the single item of attendance. It was thought a step in the right direction when some twenty years ago hotels were induced to charge separately for attendance, in order that travelers might no longer be put to the trouble of giving tips; but nowadays tips and the extortion for attendance flourish ancably together hand in hand. fall Mall Gazette. Ax Indiana farmer asks this pertinent question: ' Is it not bettor to feed corn to my cows, every bushel of which will make three pounds of butter, worth from eighteen to twenty cents per pound, giving fifty-four cents per bushel for my corn at the door, with the manure left on the farm, rather than to sell it at thirty to thirty-live cents and impoverish my farm?"