jZIId dispatched to subscribers by the eatliest mails. or other conv’eya‘nbe.’ when so desired. The Yom': HERALD will always be found to contain thelatest and most impottant Foreign and Provincial News and Markets, and the iii-tight oaréf will b3 {alum to render it ac- cuptable to the man of business. and a valu- able Family Newspaper. TERMS zâ€"One Dollar per annum, 1N AD. VANCE: if not paid within Two Months, One Dollu and Fifty cents will be charged. Six lines and under. ï¬rst insertion.. .. $00 50 Ench subsequent insertion. . .. .. . . . . . . 00 [3 Ton lines and under. ï¬rst insertion. . .. 00 75 Rich subsequent insertion . . . . . . . . . . . . . 00 90 AbOVe ten lines. ï¬rst-insertion. per line. 00 07 Elch subsequent insertion. per line. . . . 00 02 One Column per (waive months. . . {.u 50 0!) Half a column do do . . . . . . . 30 ()0 Quarter ofn column per twelve months. 20 00 One column pei six months.. . . . . . .. . 4!) 00 Hllfacolumn do . . . . . . . .... 25 (‘0 Quarter of a column per six months. . . . 18 00 A card often lines,.for one year. . . . . . _ 400 Acnrd ofï¬fteen lines. do‘ ....... 525 A card oftwenty lines. do . . . . . .~. 6 5t) D‘Advertisoments without written directions inserted till forbid, and charged accordingly. Eember of the B oyal College of Surgeons England, ’ JAMES .IVI.'5'iEZiWRENCE, Mr. Geo. Buriiitl is authorised to collect, and giro receipts for him. Richmond Hill, June. 1865 1 JOHN M.IREID, M. 1)., 003. OF YONGE AND CHLBURNE STS.', THORNHILL. Consultations in the oï¬ice on the mornings of Tuesduvs. Thursday: and Saturdays. 8 to 1!,I. m. [D’All consultations in the oflice. All transitory advertisements. from strangers or itrngulnr customers. must he paid for when land 11 in for inser‘ion. 9...!!- ' Thorahi“. Juno 9, 1863 All udverlisemems pu‘alished for a less period than one month. must be paid for in advance. No paper discontinued until all arrom‘ages are plid ; and panics refusing papers wiihout puyiug up, will be held accountable for 11m unbscription. COMMISSIONER IN THE QUEEN’S BENCH ’1 All letters addressed lo the Edi:or must be .posl-paid. ‘ ILL general ï¬at h vnn ba-"o re half-past ,8 mm. and from I to 2 pm. All parties owing Dr. J. Lan‘gslafl'aro expect- ed to can and pay promptly, as be has pay- ments now that must be met. VOflice o posite RAVYMOND'S HO'IEL, Richmond ill. Deods, Mortgages, 5w" drawn up with neat- no†and despalch. ‘ ing elsewhere. ‘ - I M. ESQ.’ Jl‘ll’listlggice Aeressâ€"Rlchmoud Hm. 1-,â€. Notary Public, WW EDMMISSIONER IN THE QUEEN’S BENCH, E 9M U N D S E A G E R u CONVEYANCER- AN D Provincial Lam! Surveyor, £0. DIVISION COURT AGENT, RICHMOND HILL. i Opposite the Elgin Mills. Llerk of the 3rd Division Court, CONVEYANCER, AND Wills} &c., 3w... drï¬wn with atfention Ind’ promptitude. Terms moderate. DR. JAS. LAN GSTAFF, in Chancery. Convevancer. &c. Ofï¬ce in Victoria Buildings. overlhe Chronicle oflico, Brock Street. Whitby. Also a Branch Ofï¬ce in the village of Bea- vorton, Township of Tharalx, and County of Ontario. - The Division Courts in Ontario, Richmond Hill, und Markham Village regularly attended. masonic army mantel, ’ GEORGE SIMSON; Proprietor. TABLXNG for S;;Horses. Good Pas~ _ Jurtgge. Loose Bbxcs for Race Horses EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, and Studé’. AVID MCLEOD begs to announce that he has Leasad the above Hotel and ï¬tted .it up in a manner second to none on Yonge St. wherehe \vili keep constantly on hand a good supply of ï¬rstâ€"classLiqnors, &c. This house possesses evory accommodation 'I‘rave!!ers can desire, those who wish to stay where they can ï¬nd every comfort are respectfully invited to put up at this establishment. Monthly Fair held on the premises. ï¬rst Wednesday in each month. Agency as usual. Richmond Hill, June 9,1865. BIITCIIEL 1-10 USE ! AURORA: Aurora. June. 1865. Carriage and Waggon MAKER. UNDERTAKER Richmond Hill, June 9. 1865. 6m. 6m. 6w. flamencoâ€"Nearly oppositu the Past Ofï¬ce; Ichmoud H ill. June 9, 1865. Richniond Hill, June 9. 1865. V’Vhitby June 2. 1865. RATES OF ADV E RTISIN G. magmas»: ï¬ixcctorgi). “ï¬iilw‘ï¬Ã©Ã©â€˜fE-TTi-zéi .(Itbï¬fgfiï¬nrkmfmlh RICHMOND HILL! POST OFFICE- GHEEMENTS, _Bo.m!s, Deeds, Mortgages. TTORNEY - A'l' - LAW. SOLICITOR CHAS. c. .KELL‘ER, THOMAS SEDMAN, IS PUBLISHED RICHMOND HILL. IVU luuu um. months. yeah... .. 1o ....... o l-tf JAMES BOWMAN, Issuer. of Marriage Licenses, ALMIRA MILLS, Kept on hand. SAVVING done promptly ; also CKNOWLEDGED by 800 Farmers. I’m- t’essional Gentlemen and others (who have them working in NWells. varying in depth from 10 to 133 feel), to be the EASHCST‘ WORKED. MOST DURABLE‘ and EFFI- CIENT ever offered to the Public. 11'? Price 60 cents per foot. No extra charge for Top. June 7: Markhm'n, Nov. 1, 1865. Manufaclurer and Denier in all kinds of Men‘; ‘Vomen’s :md Chiidren’s p One of the oldsst and cheapest houses in the trade. US" Give John a call when in Town. Toronto, Doc. 15575. 27 The Best is Always the.Cheapest. P O W E L L ’ S CANADIAN SWIKQ PUMPS! DAVID EYER, J1m., Slave & Shingle Manufacturer Flamed Lumber, Sharing, £553. At tllevlowest possible rates. Saw Mill on 101515, 2nd Con. Markham. 2; mllles eastof Richmond Hlli by (he Plank Road Richmond Hiâ€, June 96, 1865. Every Pump W‘m’runted, LUREBERING! . ' 'Pd'WELL.'Newm{Bmok, CM]. Will receive prompt attention; BOOTS & SHOES, ' ESIDENCEâ€"Lot 2mm“! Con. Mxrkham on me Elgiu Mills Plank Road. A large Stock (“Suns and SHINGLES. kept constantly on hand.and sold afthe lowest Prices [[37 Call and examine Slack before purchas- ing elsewhere. - .‘ n‘ ‘ u n-n LOOK, AT THIS Lumber Ton gued at Groved Residenceâ€"Lot 41) Yonge Street. Vaughan. GEO. MCPHILLIPS 8:. SON, Provincial Land Sam’eyers, SEAFORTH. C. W. Richmoqu Hill Bakery! W. s. POLLOCK, ' 33m 81 3133317? BREE PLANEENG TO ORDER, I EGS leave to nu'ify ‘the pubhc that he has purchased the business and good will of J. nvaytimrd’s establishment. and that heis prevared to furnish-BREAD and FANCY CAKES to those who may honor him with their patronage. "PEI-Nit: pgrlies and Tea. Meetings supplied at the lowest posaiblo rates and on the shortest notice. f ‘HE Subscriber beg: to inform his friends ‘ and ’tho public generally,‘ that he has opened an HOTEL in the Village Of Maple. 41h Con. Vaughan. where he hopes, by atten- tiou to the comforts of (he travelling commu- nity. to merit a share of their patronage and ruppoxt. Good Stabling. 5w. fl All Jx‘ders stricfly attended to. Richmond Hill, June,1835- Maple H0130}; Railroad Hotel, Maple ! ROBERT RUMBLE, Proprietbr. Mapha. Jan [866. 00D ancnmmndntion for Travellers -â€" T Wines. Liquor: and Cigars of the heat brand aIways on hand. Goad Stabling and attentive Hustler in attendance. January 16. 1866. EAVE TRfl’flEHS, WATER SPIRITS, CISTRONS AND PUMPS : , STEAM MILLS. THORNHILL, Sontember 711665 Earns-a Langgtam January IS. 1866. June 7,1865. NEW SERIES. V01. Vi. N0. 4‘2. EGS respectfnny to inform his customers and the public [but he is preparud to do 38 West MarketSqum'n. ‘2 doors south 01' King 51mm, In any quantity, and on short notice JOHN BARRON. 1865. RICHMONU HILL AND YONGELST. GENERALADVERTISER. ABRAHAM EYER Manufactured and for Sale by RICHARD VAXIJJS. 32‘ ly TORONTO. 14.11 Ilf 'h! [ï¬Ã©mï¬ï¬‚'a I’d. y,0ï¬â€˜-“‘§ï¬'é“fia1[ï¬iuiï¬e§§ of the process; do tell us'a story, papa. ‘ If sometimes sunny days grow dark, And heaven seems (lmn ), and 0, so far, And earthly (lamps and vapours rise, And hide awhile hope's smiling starâ€"- If all along the dreary shore The tide is outâ€"you only hear The sullen beating ofthe waves, And sit in silence and in fear,â€" If down the future’s weary round 0f years you look, and see no sign, Beyond the cross of c: re and pain, The press of sorrow’s bitter wine. Take heart ! beyond the cloudy veil The sunshine lieth, strong and bright, And from the valley of despair Arise the shininér hills of light, The tide that 0‘1)le will flood again, 0 patient waiter by the shore! And once again its music sound As glndsmne as it did before, Beyond the weary steops of pain Are smiling plains of rest and peace ; And sunny isles of {air delight Are only reached Lln‘ough stormy seas. The following simple but pathee tic story, from the pen of George Macdonald, one ol the most promi- sing anthers of the present day, Originally appeared in the Illustrat- ed London News. Mr. Macdonald has already earned a high reputa- Iion, both as a poet and a novelist, his great forte. being the dellniatiou of Scottish life and character as it is to be found in lhe rural dislricts. The story of Little Mary and her Brother is a favorable specimen ol Mr. Macdonnld's powers in descri- bing events of every day life :â€" ‘I don‘t think papa ever told us a story? said one of the youngest. ‘Oh, Dolly! exclaimed half a dozen. But her next eldest sis\er took up the speech. ‘ Yes do, Pnpa,’ chimed in sever- al more children. _ It is such a lung lime since you told us a story. ‘ Yes, I dai‘e sav. But you were only born last yer, and papa has been away for months and months.’ ‘ Well, iHIFl'pOSGd their papa, I'll try. What shall it be about 7.’ ‘ Oh i about Scotland, ’ cried the eldest. l V‘Vell, one evening, in the begin- ningot‘ April, the weakly sun of the season had gone down with a pale face behind the shoulder of a hill in the background of my story. it you had been their and climbed up that bill, you would have seen him a great while longer, provided he had not in the meantime set behind a mountain of cloud, which at this season of the year, he was very ready to do, and which, I suspect, he actually did! this evening about which 1 am tel- ‘ling you. And because he had gone down, the peat ties up on the hearths of the cottages all began to glow more brightly, as if the werel glad he was gone at last. and had left them their work to doâ€"or rath- er as if they wanted to do all. they could to make up tor his absence. And on one ‘hearth in particular the peat-ï¬ret :glowed very brightly. There was ‘tl pot hanging over it, with supper in it ;' and there was a little girl setting beside it, ‘with a SWeet thoughtlnl Dee. Her hair was done up in a silken net, for it was .the costume of Scotch girl'sâ€"they wore no bonnetsâ€"to have their hair so arranged, many years be- fore it became a fashion in London. She had a bunch of feathers, not in her hair, but fastened to her side by her apron string, in the quill ends of which ,was stuck the ends of one of her knitting needles, while the other was loose in her hand. But both were fast and busy in the loops of a blue ribbed stocking, which she was knitting for her father. N0, Dolly was ï¬ve, and her papa had been away for three weeks.’ He was outon the hills. He had that morning, taken his sheep up higher 1mm before, and Nelly knew Little Mary and. Her Brother. Hope in Sorrow. grammars. gï¬ï¬ï¬t’i}. “ Let Sound Reason weigh morevaz'th us than Popular Opinion.†RICH‘REONHP HELL, FRIDAY, NIAROH 23, 1866. da'y. lhh; but ‘il would riot bc'long un-‘ till she Weuld hear‘ his foolsteï¬s, and measure théglung stride be- tween which brought him‘ and happiness home together. ‘ But, had‘m ski! any molher? Oh! yes, she Had. If #011 had been in the cottage that night you would have beam a cough every now and lhen,».imd would have found that Nelly‘gmmher was lying in a bed in the '?momâ€"-n0t a bed in a bed in the fmomâ€"mot aflbed with cuitains, but .a bed with doors like a press. This does not seem a nice way of having a bed; but we should all béilglad oi the wood- en eurtains about us at night if we lived in such a cottavgemn lhe side of a hiilalong which‘the wind swept like a wild river, only ten times fast- er lhon any rivet: would run even down a hillsider Through the cot- tage it would be spouting, and streaming, and .eddying, and ï¬ght- ing all night long ; and a poor mother with a, .eough, or a man who has been but in the cold all day. is very glgiï¬i’pf such a piace to lie in, and lé’ï¬ve tlte rest of the hottse to the wind and the faires. After a while; Nelly rose and put some peaig on thPï¬re, and hung the pot alim; or two higher on [he chaiuï¬fer she was a wise creature, thoï¬g'h she was only twelvp, and C(jdld cook Very well, because she' {look trouble, and thought abolï¬it. Thcn she s'at down to her knitting again, which was a very frugal amuse- ment. Nelly’s molh‘er was ill, and there was little llOpQ’Of her getting better again. What she couid have done without Nelly,:j_l can’t think. It, was so muchf’basier to be ill wilh Nelly sitting there. For she was a good Nelly. mother. It‘sjmt ~vi’e‘llï¬ge hdme by- ‘ > 7 'as' going lder of the hili to- very latle‘yet r w a: over the éhou Now that was the same shoulder of the hill that the sun went down behind. And at the moment the sun was going down behind it Nelly’s father was standing on the top'of it, and Nell} was looking up to the very place where he stood, and yet she did not see him. He was not too far off to be seen, but the sun was in her eves, and the light of the sun hid him from her. He was them coming across with the sheep, to leave them for the night in a sheltered placeâ€"~within a. circle of stones that would keep the wind off them ; ’and he ought, by rights, to have been home at least hall an hour ago. At length Nelly heard the the distant sound of a heavy shoe upon the point of a great. rock that grew up from the depths ofthe earth and just came through the surface in the leading acress the lurze and brake to their cottage. She always watched for that soundâ€"~the sound ofher fath- er’s shoe, studded thick with broad- headed nails, upon the top of that rock. She started up, but, instead of rushing: out to meet him, went to the lire and IUWereLl the pot. Then taking up a wooden bowl, halffttll of oatmeal neatly pressed dmvninto it, with a little salt on the top. she proceeded to make a certain dish for her tather’s sup- per, of which strong Seotehmen are very fond- By the lime hér {alher reached the door it. was ready, and set down with a plate (war it to keep it hm, though it had a great deal more need, I think, to be let one! a lillle. Vthn he. entered he looked troubled. 310 was a tall man, dressed in rough grey cloth, with a broad round biue bonnet, as they call in. HIS face lokked as if it had‘ began weather beaten into peace. ‘ ‘, Well, Nelly.’ he said, layihgliis hand on her l'mehead as she looked up into his face, ‘how’s your moth- er l’ And without waiting for an ans- wer he went to the bed, where the pale face of his wife lay upon the pillow. She held out his thin whitr hand to him, and he look it gently in his stiong brown band; but beiore he had spoken she saw the tr‘ouble on his face, and said.â€" ‘ What has made you so late to night, Johan When the Shepherd'had ï¬nished his supper,hé rose and went out to see whether Jumper and the. lamb were coming; but the dark night would have made the blackest dog and the whitest lamb both of one colour, and he soon came in again. Then he tool: the bible and read a chapter to his wife and (laughter, which did them all good even though Nelly did not nude.- 3 and very much of it. And then he préyed a prayer. and was vorv near praying for Jumper and the lamb, only he could not quite. And there he was wrong. He should have prayed about what~ ever troubled him or could be done good to. But he was such a good man that I am almost ashamed of saying he Was wrong. And just as he came to the Amen in his prayer, there came a whine to the door. And he rose from his knees and went and open- ed the door. And there was the lamb, with Jumper behind him. And Jumper looked dreadfully wet and draggled. and tired. and the curls had all come out of his hair. And yet he seemed as happy as dog could be, and looked up in the face of the shepherd triumphantly, as much as to say. ‘Here he is. master 1’ And the lamb looked scarcely anythng the worse; for his thick oily wool had kept away the wet : and he hadn’t been run- ning about everywhere looking for Jnmpee, as Jumper had been for him. Asthe shepherd stopped speak- ing. he seated himself by the ï¬re and drew the wooden, . bowl to- wards him. _Then he lifted his blue bonnet from his head, and said grace, half aloud, half murmured to'him'self. Then he put his bon- net on his head again, for his head was rather bald, and, as i told you, the cottage was a draughty place. And just as he, put it on a blast 0|" wind struck the cottage, and roarâ€" ed in the wide chimney. The next moment the rain dashed against the. little window ofiour panes, and fell hissing into the peat ï¬re. ‘It,s the Iamb’s own fault,’ said Nelly ; ’he shouldn't have 'run away.’ v ‘ Ah ! yes.’ returned her father ; but then the lamb didn’t know what he was about exactly.’ ‘Poor Jumper 1" said Nelly. ‘ And poor little lamb 5" said the Shepherd. ' ‘ When we couldn't see anything oflhe lamb,’ replied her father, ‘I told Jumper to go after him and bring him to {he hoase; and Black- foot and I came home together. I doubi he'll have ajob, 01 it, poor dog lfor It's going td be a rough nigt; but if dog can bring him, he will.’ ‘ There it comes,’ said the shep- herd. , ‘ Where’s Jumper ?‘ then asked Nelly, who had been patting’ the neck and stroking the ears of the one dog which had followed the shepherd’s heels, and was now ly- ing before the ï¬re, enjoying the warmth none the less that he had brat ed the cold all day without minding it a bit. And Jumper, after Nelly. had given him his supper, lay down by the ï¬re side the other dog. which math room for him to go next the glowing penis; and the lamb which had been eating all day, and didn’twant any supper, lay down beside him. And} then Nelly bade her father and mother 'and the dogs good night, and Want awav to bed likewise, thinking the wind might blow as it pleased now, for sheep and dogs, and lather and all. were safe for the whole of the dark windyhnurs between that and morn- ing. It is so nice to know there is a long nothing to doâ€"but only after everything is done. Bnt there are other winds in the world besides those which shake the fleeces of sheep and the beards of men, or blow ships to the botiom of sea, or scatter the walls of cott- ages abroad over the hillsides. There are Winds .which blow up huge storms inside lhehearls of men and women, and blow till the great clouds full of tears go up, and rain down from the eyes to quiet them. ‘ I was nearly at the foid,’ said the shepherd, 'before I saw that one of the lambsï¬vas missing. So after I got them all in, I went back with (he doizs to look for hlin.’ ‘1 was dose to the hillâ€"road, ‘whenl saw Jhmes Jar'nieson, the «carrier, v coming up the hill with this can; [anvandl me; him.’_ > ‘We \von’t talk about it, then But what’s this about Harry I and how came you to hear it 3’ ‘Nolhing Very particular. He only “hinted. lhat he heard from Wauchope, the merchant, that a certain honest man’s sonâ€"he meant me, Nellyâ€"was going the wrong road. And I said loJumes Jamle- son What road could the man mean? And James said to me â€"â€"he meant the broad road, of course. And I satdown on a stone and I heard no more ;, at leastl could not make sense of what James went onto 39:) ; and wlzen I lifted my head James and his cart were just out of sight, over the hill. I dare say that was howl lost the lamb.’ A deep silence followed, and Nelly understood that her mother could not speak. A1 length a sub and a low Weeping came through lhe bgmrds to her keen moumain ear. But not another word was spoken, and, allhough Nellv’s heart was sad‘ she soon fell fast a sleep. ",And' He you told? What did he tell you 7. . V ‘ It wasn’t the loss of the lamb, John, that made. you look so troubl- ed when you came home lo-night, said her mother. Harry.’ ‘ I can’t denv it.’ ' What is it.’ ‘ I’ll tell you in the mo: u ‘ I shu’nt sleep a wink for think- ing whatever it can be, John.â€" Yuu had better tell me now. If the Lord would onlybring that stray lamb back to his fold, I should die happyâ€"sorry as I should be to leave NclLy and you, my own deat- John. ' Now, Willie had gone to col- lege, and had been a very good boy for the ï¬rst winter. They go to colle ge only in winter in Scotland. And he had come home in the end of March, and had helped his fath- er to work their little farm, doing his duty well to the sheep and to everything and everybody ; for learning had not made him the least unï¬t for work. Indeed work that learning does make a man un- ï¬tfor cannot be fit work for that manâ€"perhaps is not ï¬t work for anybody. When winter came, he had gone back to Edinburghâ€, and he ought to have been home a Week ago, and he had. not come. He had written to say that he had to ï¬nish some lessons he had begun to give and could not be home tilt the end oi the month. Now this was not so far true that it was a lie. But there was more in it he did not Want to go home to the lonly hillsideâ€"so lonely, that there Were only a father ,and a mother and a sister there. He had made acquaintance with some students who were fender of (lrinklng whis- ky than of getting up in the mornâ€" ing to write abstracts, and he didn't want to leave them. Nelly lay down in her warm bed, feeling as snug and sale as ever child felt in a large rich house in a great city. For there was the wind howling outside to make it all the quieter inside ; and there was the great, bare, cold hill before the Window, which,alIhOUgh she could not see if, and only know that it was there, made the bed in which she lay so close and wooly and warm. Now, this bed was separated for her father and mother, only by a thin partition, and she heard them talking. And they had not talked long before that otherl cold wind that was blowing through their hearts blew inlo hers t00.â€"â€"Vl And I will tell you what they said‘ to each other that made the cold wind into her heart. ‘ Don‘t talk about dying, Nelly, it breaks my 'heart.’ ‘No, it was’nt, Jane, I must confess, returned her falher. _ ‘Yng've heard something about Ne‘nly was, as l have said, 100 young to keep awake because she was troubled, and so befor half an hour was over she was fast asleep and dreamilw. And the wind out- ‘ What can papa meah T,’ ‘ ‘Never mind Dolly, you’ll know soon enough, I’m founecn and I know when papa means.‘ TERMS $1 00 In Advance. Whoie N0. 302. The Shepherd had gone to bed.- very sad. He, too, had been‘ writiuga letter. It had taken him all the evening to wrixe, and Nelly had watched his face while he wrolc it, and seen how the muscles ofil worked with sorrow and pain-- as he slowly put word after word down on Ihe paper. When he had ï¬nished it andlolded it up, and put1 a wafer on it, and addressed it he" left it on the table. and as lsaid, went to bed, where he soon fell at sleep; for Even sorrow does not often keep people awake that have worked hard through the day in the open air. And Nelly‘was warmly ing. When she thought he was asleep, she took a pair of stockings out of a chest and put them in her pocket. Then, taking her Sunday shoes in her hand, she stepped gently from’ her room to the cottage door, which‘ she opened gently, lot it was nevar locked. She then found it was‘ pitch dark -, but. she could keéii‘ the path well enough, for her bare feet told ,her’ at once when she was‘ going off. It is a; blessing to have' bare feet. . People with bare feet can always keep the path better, and keep their garments cleaner, too.-â€"â€"‘ Only thev must. be ea'rel'ulto wash“ themat night. she thought about it. And shé‘ wrote a letter to her father, telling him > what ‘she was going lo do; and when she- went to her room the next night, {she7 laid iton her bed, and, putting on‘ hen-Sunday bonnet and Chaimâ€"r, ted till they should be asleep. So,rdark as it was, she soon reached the road. There was no Wind that night, and the clouds hid the stars. She would turn in the direction of'Edin- burgh and ’let the carrier overtake ’her.’ For she felt rather guilty and was anxi. ous to get on. She soon ‘made up' her. mind; Only how to carry out her mind was the difl'iCiflw. All day, long 1 know that, but I am talking ‘a- bout dog Jumper, that Nelly thought she was. He went on and on, anrl over the top of the cold Wet hill. and was beginning to ‘_ grow hopeless about ï¬nding the bla‘ck lamb, when just a little way down the other side, he came upon him behind a rock. He was standing: in a mirry pool, all wet Willi the rain. Jumper would never have found him, the night was so darts and the lamb was so blackyb'uttlpat he gave a bleat; whereupon Jumper tried to say Willie. but couldflnot and only gave a gobblingr kind of bark. be he jumped «upon the lamb. and taking a mouthful of his Wool gave him a sllalte that made him pull his feet out of the mire, and then drove him ofl belore him, trottidg all the way home. When they came into the cottuge, the black lamb ran up to Nelly’s mothw' er, ane jumped into her bed,‘ arid Jumper jumped in after him; and then Nelly was Nelly and Willie was Willie. as they used to be, when Nelly would creep into Willie’s bed in the morning and. kiss him awake. Then Nelly 3- woke. and was sorry that it was a; dream. For Willie was still away far off on the broad road‘ and how was he ever to be got home? Poor black lamb. _ v After she had walked a. goodlwlï¬lei. she began to wonder that- the carrier had not come up with her. The fact Was that the carrier never left till the early morning. She was not a hit afraid though, reasoning that, as she was walking in the same direction, it would take him so much longer to get upwith her. w ' At length, after walking a. long way, longer for than she thought7 for/ she walked a great part of it makeupâ€"she began to feel a little tired, and sat down upon 21 stone on the road-side.â€" There was a stone , behind her too. She could just see its grey face. She loaned her back against it, and fell fast asleep. The Pope has been making a. speech at the English College at Rome, in which he regretted that England “ should be, forgot- ful of her glorious title of the Holy Island.†His Holiness hopes, however, that her prosperity and greatness, her immense pussy. essions and boasted institutions, will by and; “ serve the cause of the faithj’ .~D«.-,°....~. v:- , V". a fly oï¬â€˜a book. And the hail bean in Jumper's face, as if It would put his eyes oul'or knock holes in his. forehead, and yet Juniper went on. But it wasn't Jumper; it was Nelly. yuu know.’ lwill tell you what her dream was :â€"â€"She thought they were out in- the dark and ‘ the~ storm, she and her father. But"sh‘e was no longer Nelly ;she was Jumper. And herlather said to her, ‘Jumper, go after the black lamb and bring him; home ’ And away she galloped- ovar the stones, and through “thr‘ furzc. and across the streams- and up the rocks, and jumped the stone fences, and swam the pools of Wa- ter, to ï¬nd the little black lamb. And all the time some how or other the little black lamb was her brother VVillle. And nothing could'turn the dog Jumper, though the win-l blew as if‘ it would blow him off all his four legsï¬an’d ofl'the hill, as one blOVVS side was tearing the thatchi 01 the cottage, mingled with the dream.