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ABSOLUTELY HEB. OWN MISTRESS. I “ If we have nothing else to give We can give advice.”â€"OLD PaovsnB. Clara. though amply provided for. was not without her troubles when her father was gone. Her chief trouble would have been Mrs. Briggs, the housekeeper, only happily that worthy woman was afraid of losing her situation by going too far. She was a strictly virtuous woman. in fact, full of virtue to the very brim. but her virtues were small virtues of a turbulent and eflervescing kind, and she was a tyrant by nature ; narrow in every- thing, meddling, fidgety,touchey, full of squibs and quibbles; always raising little difficulties to exalt herself ; prone to boggle about trifles and stick when you least expected it ; never quite right or happy ; unwilling to balance the good of life against the evfl, but rather making a trade of her trifling troubles ; one of those people who make good servants but merciless masters and mistresses. Had their situations bee l reversed Miss Clara would have had a. hot time of it with Briggs, and as the narrow understanding of the servant could not compound the larger sympathies of the mistress, Mrsi Briggs hesitated to carry it with too high a hand, though she longed to rule the young lady and make her act accord- ing to her will. I have heard that Mrs. Montgomery was handsome in her youth, but this is a matter of tradition. At the time of Mr. Montgomery’s death she was a short, stout, sharp-voiced,badrcountenanced woman of fifty; keen as a hawk in business matters, determined to rule in great things and small; fond of power and dress and whist ; aggressive, predatory and unscrupulous in grasping what she had set her heart upon. The matter uppermost in her mind at present was her son’s marriage, and had she possessed the power of Catherine of Russia or Elizabeth of England she would have married him at once, willing or not willing, to his cousin Clara“ who was ten years his senior. But she had} the common sense to see that if she attempted such an arbitrary measure they would only laugh at her, so she must attain her end by other means. She had no admiration for Clara, it was the property alone that attracted her. Though not averse to music she would rather eat a lark any day than hear him sing, so that Clara’s musical attainments were rather a drawback than a recommendation, and as for her fancy work she considered it a pure waste of time and money. Her love of. history she despised as unpractical, for is it not with the present we have to deal and not the past? The study of foreign languages she pronounced “folly and worse, for what need we care for any country- but the one we live in ?" She had never even heard of hen niece’s love of poetry, happily for Clara, but she thought her a strong, good looking, idle, good-for-nothing girl, because her work did not tell, and no money came of it; on the contrary, all her accomplishments tended to the spending of money on music, books, silks and other useless luxuries. Had the young lady been poor, she would have advised her son to avoid his cousin Clara as he would a pestilence, but as it was she was obliged to tolerate this livmg encumbrance to a hundred acres of land and a certain income for life. “Iitches to tell Miss Ulara my mind,” she would often say in confidence to her daughter Sally. “ Young foolish thing as she is, a-spendiug money on orphan asylums an’ jails. Its a waste 0’ money in my opinion, them as gets children should provide for ’em. And her havin’ them brats here to eat pears as would sell for money, it puts me past patience.” Indeed Briggs was so outraged and annoyed by this last occurrence, that she plucked up courage to speak to her mistress on the subject. Who answered with a calmness that was “ truly aggravating,” as the poor discomfited woman said : “ Why. the poor dear little creatures” ex- claimed Clam, rousing herself from a sad reverie at the sound of the sharp voice at her elbow, “ what I give is a, mere drop in the sea. I have money enough and to spare, and the world is full of miserable. neglected little children. As for the pears, Briggs. they would spoil before we could eat them. We must give them away to somebody, and grown-up people don’t enjoy half so thorough- ly as children, poor little souls. Why, Sally is an orphan, and you are one yourself, and so am I," with a. sigh. “ You are tired Briggs, and that makes you fidgety ; you must go to bed and take a good rest. I wish every little boy and girl in the world had as good a. bed and a night-gown without a break in it.” But a greater difficulty was Clara’s aunt, Mrs. Montgomery. This lady prided herself on being a clever business woman. She was much her husband’s inferior in birth and education. but had managed that gentlemen and his property with such skill and dexterity that the property had speedIly doubled itself in her hands, and her husband soon died leaving her the mother of an only son, but in absolute possession of everything “ for the the term of her natural life,” as the will ex- pressed it. Education she deemed of no value, except as it tended to the increase of money. If a man understood the first four rules of arithmetic, and could write his name, that in her opinion was all that was neces- sary in the way of book-learning ; so when little Jack’s god'father,the Rev. John,sent her £50 sterling per annum for the boy’s edu- cation, she put it in the Post Office Sav. ings bank, and sent the boy to the common free school, a proceeding which occasioned the only quarrel Clara’s father ever had in the course of his long life. At first Mrs. Mont- gomery listened civilly to half a dozen succes- sive remonstrances, but took her own way. When, however. Mrs. Montgomery threatened to write to his brother and have the supplies cut off, her wrath rose, and a fierce battle ensued. At last, a compromise was affected, both parties boasting they had gained the vic- tory Mrs. Montgomery removed her son from the common school, and his uncle un- dertook his education for nothing. Clara assisted her father in J ack’s education, but he discovered no taste for learning. and it was far more to their credit than his that they taught him to read and write, and pulled him through the mazes of arithmetic (as far as the rule of three, where he stuck fast). They read his« tory with him constantly, but he never knew the difference between the Habeas Corpus act and Means Charta. I have heard him assert that Henry the Seventh had six wives, and that Richard, the lion-hearted, killed the little princes in the tower with his own hand; and his uncle and tutor. who was present when he made these extraordinary statements. blushed a bright scarlet for shame and vexation atthe lad’s ignorance. But Clara put her father into a good temper again by laughing and declar- ing that history was full of errors, and perhaps Jack was right after all, “ it’s a long time ago, papa, and I shouldn’t like to lay an oath who killed the little princes.” “ Not with you to protect me and take care of my interests," replied the young lady with provoking good temper. “ Economy is a. great virtue in a housekeeper, but no virtue at all in a princess ; now, though I am not :1 princess, I need not sell my peers or save money foolishly. or deny poor children their little pleasures. I hardly know why I am here now my father is gone, but I am sure not for that, keep to your own sphere. Briggs, and you’ll shine like a. brass kettle and don’t meddle, and trouble me, for indeed I have trouble enough.” But though Clara. had put down Briggs for the time and sub- dued her, the memory of the scene, worried her over-conscientious nature, and she actual- ly began to question herself as to the propriety of doing what she liked with her own. " Them pears would sell for money in the Hamilton market,” said Briggs eagerly, “and they’re wasted on them gutty little things, as bread and butter is too good for. It’s a pity miss, you didn’t know a little more about. economy, I’ll make bold to say; I fears you’ll have your eyes picked out; 0’ your head. ” Fin-M Pn I'mâ€"Lou CHAPTER II Perhaps a. stranger contrast was never seen in one room than Clara, and her aunt when that lady called three weeks after Mr. Mont- gomery’s death, to advise, counsel, and con- dole with her neice. Clare, wounded and stricken from her recent loss, looked like a. fair young goddess in sore distress, as her aunt (in a rusty black gown, with a fat hand on each knee) sat before her, and laid down the law as she understood it. “ You see, it's no use frettingfor spilt milk, as the saying is,” she began. “Your poor father’s dead, and all the tears in the world won’t wash him out of his grave, and the sooner you look into your affairs and set yourself to work the happier you’ll be. in my opinion. If I was you (I’d pack 03 Sally and let her get a place for herself, and brush about and do some or the house work. You and Briggs could do it all well enough, and you’d soon forget your father." “I do not wish to forget him.” answered Glam, who felt every word a blow. “ Well, well, it’s natural to think of him sometimes. but the sooner you get to business the better; there’s all this property to manage, and property is a great responsibility. A penny saved is a penny got, and if you take care of'the pence the pounds will take care of themselves. You would add greatly to your income by reduc- ing your expenses and changing your amuse- ments. You might keep a couple of pigs with advantage. there’s waste enough in this house to feed them ; all the cabbage leaves and potato peels and rotten apples are quite lost for the want of them. Your poor dear father objected to pigs, and that shows What a poor farmer he was. You are not attending to me, Clam.” So Jack was encouraged to take Clara out for drives during the winter which succeeded her father‘s death; “ poor dear Clara is so lonely,” said her aunt. He came in at the front door and went out at the back like a pot chicken; he plagued his cousin to sing, and got her to read to him, for he was mentally lazy and would rather be amused than exert himself to study, and in spite of herself he did her good and beguiled her of her grief, and continually broke in upon her loneliness. his noisy, jolly young voice echoing through the house as he came. He claimed her atten- tion and would not let her mope. and though she was often very much bored by his society, nobody guessed it, not even Jack, for she roused herself as soon as he came and always received him with a smile. No one regardei him in the light of a. suitor, and Jack himself never dreamt of such a thing; even Briggs, jealous as she was of her young mistress, would have laughed outright at the absurdity of such an idea ; but Mrs. Mont- gomery had set her heart on the match, and Mr. Martineau, her lawyer thought it a. very suitable one. As the winter passed the in fluence of natureâ€"which Clara dearly loved â€"â€"and of cousin Jack, whom she kindly toler- ated, began to tell upon her and she bright- ened day by day. Her color come back and “ That you could kill a pig for your own use in the fell.” “ My dear auntâ€"I kill a pig 1" “ Of course.” said Mrs. Montgomery, “ end the other would sell and help you to pay Bliggs her wages; and if you cured you pig, and watched the markets and bought a quer- ter of beef when it was cheap, it would be a saving, and cheaper than butcher’s meat; for salted it would last you half a. year. I am sure you’ll excuse me, Glare, for giving you a. little friendly advice ; but you are really too foolishly generous in giving your honey to Briggs to sell for herself or allow- ing her to make use of it in the kitchen. Honey sells in Hamilton for a. shil- ling 9, pound, and mark my words, Briggs is a. sly women, and what’s your poor father the better, for her and Sally hav~ ing two new black gowns out 0’ your pocket to mourn for him 7” “I think you have more reason to be pleased than angry.” said Mr. Martineau; ‘things seem to be going on very nicely in- deed, but I would not give a. hint of love mak- ing; it will be more likely to come about as you wish.” “I'beg your pardon, aunt," apologized Clanhweanly. ‘{ _Yrop.rwere aayingâ€"” “Aunty, my father expressly told me to put them in mourning, and Briggs has been with us for elghteen yeaw. and in a faithful creature, I’m sure.” ‘ “ I hope it will, she has lent him money to buy a gunâ€"much he wants of a. gun indeedâ€" I should be quite angry with her for encour aging him in such a piece of folly but for the hope that a. match will come of it.” “ She has an eye to her own interest. faith- ful or not, Clara. and I couldn’t afford ablack gown.” “ Well, Aunty, I’ll buy you one." “Nonsense. I don‘t want to take money out 0’ your pocket, but to help you to save it. Now you might make a. great deal more out of your garden if you‘d give up cultivatingfso many useless flowersâ€"not but they’re very pretty. my dear, like yourself, but we can’t live on beautyeâ€"and grow drumhead cabbages (they take the grub less than Savoys) and potatoes; you might pick the potato hugs yourself, and burn’ emâ€" â€"â€"it’ s safer than poison But Whatever you do, Clara." sinking her voice to a mysterious whisper, “keep your mortgage and title deeds in your own hands (unless you prefer giving ’em to me to take care of for you in my safe). and never trust ’em a day to the lawyers for the lawyers are the devil’s ownâ€"just necessary evils to help us out o scrapes. but not to be trusted unless you happened to marry one, and then your interest would be his interest. But if you’re a. wise woman, Clara, you won’t merry with your property, unless, it should be some one ofre your own blood that you sure cares for you for those who marry strangers often get into n peck o trouble. The man may be good look- ‘ing enough, and yet he may be a. scamp, in l debt as likely as not, or there may be insen- 1ty in his family, or epilepsy, or poor rela- tions, and that’s worse than all. No doubt you’ll have offers, and if you come to me for advice, no“ your poor father is dead. you’ll be pretty sure to do right, for I know the world, Clara. and you may thank heaven that I am an honest woman with only your inter- est at heart.” Thus it was that Mrs. Montgomery counâ€" seled her niece at great length, and the young lady scarcely answered, but listened with impatient patience and many sighs, and when at last she took leaveufor all things come to an endâ€"Clara took a long breath of relief, and went sweeping down in her black robes to the kitchen, and thus addressed her housekeeper: “ Briggs, when you see Mrs. Montgomery coming again, give me instant warning, and let Sally saddle the pony at once and bring him round to the back door. She gives me great pain and annoyance when I see her alone, and I will never receive her again, unless Mr. Jack is with her. I am quite in earnest, and if you disobey me I shall be greatly displeased; for if she is a practical woman as you and she boast so am I, and I will not be intruded upon. ” After this spurt Miss Clara sailed. off to her room and indulged in a long fit of weeping ; and as she had not the courage to face her aunt boldly and put her down at once and for ever, she mounted her pc ny as soon as Mrs. Montgomery’s gig appeared on the brow of the hill and fled away like a frightened hare in the opposite direction. “.Go, light your cheeks at nature, do, And draw the Whole world after you." LEIGH HUNT. The next time Mrs. Montgomery saw her lawyer she mentioned her scheme of joining Clara’s farm to her own by a. marriage be- tween Jack and his cousin. and be quite ap- proved, saying the little difference in age was nothing, and five hundred acres would be a pretty estate. Then she told him of the girl’s strange conduct in persistently avoiding her, but that she did not object to J ack’s company in the same way. “ Why that is just what you want,” said Mr. Martineau, “ Iwould keep away if I were you and not trouble e1- with advice, but just give Mr. Jack a litle more liberty, let him ride outwith his cousin, let them be together as much as they like and the thing will come‘about naturally.” CHAPTER III. she grew plump again, and her face looked pensive, rather than sorrowful ; if sprin ! brought tears of sad remembrance, it brough I smiles too, and every opening leaf seemed to preach ressurrection. Spring came earlier" than usual, and Jack released from the plough (for Mrs. Montgomery: exacted no work this year) centered about with his cousin every- where, his sound commonplace face and burly figure serving as a foil and set 03 to the fair classical, queenly looking creature who rode by his side. With Jack for a pro- tection against assault and advice, Clara be- came very gracious to Aunt Montgomery, and treated all comers with a sweet gravitycharm- ing to see. She rather patronized Jack, tried to improve his mind, read Pepy’s diary to him and Macauley's history, often felt very weary of his company, and longed for her father’s, yet she unconsciously leant upon the boy and was better for his â€"-not always wel- comeâ€"presence. Others visited her and showed their kindness in various ways. for she was popular in her neighborhood and all wished her well. They recognized her as one who carried weapons for defense but never for attack. She was no woman‘s rivalâ€"indeed, the young ladies re- garded her as a harmless old maidâ€"and no one felt jealous of her beauty, some even scarcely admitted that she had any, but all liked her in their different ways. She was liberal of household receipts, and rare pat- terns of embroidery and crochet, quite willing that any lady should have a dress exactly like her own, and prodigal with flower seeds, roots and boquets, giving them away right and left. Perhaps she considered imitation the soul of flatteryâ€"as 1t isâ€"and the somewhat auda- cious demands of her friends as a compliment to her superior taste, for she never refused help in matters of dress, never told tales, and could not have counted the numbers of people to whom she taught ornamental knitting. and tatting for love. Once Mrs. Wellington Swartz (a. U. E.loyalist) had the assurance to bring her daughter’s wedding bonnet to Clara to be trimmed, “ Because everything turns out 0’ your hands beautiful,” and Clara asked papa’s permission to do it in a coaxing, confidential whisper, and really succeeded in getting as much pleasure and a good deal more fun out of the bonnet, than the wearer. For once she was puzzled with too great an abundance of material, for a half bushel bas- ket of artificial flowers, six yards of broad scarlet ribbon, and as much white and purple was provided for this crowning glory. Clara and her father kept the bonnet exploit to them.- selves, being really afraid to let it get abroad in their little society lest they should lose caste But it was less her good nature than her naturalness that made Clara popular with young and old. There was nothing afiected or assumed about her, her genuine “ Good day,” said Jack. scarcely knowing What to sayâ€"“ come to borrow some money I suppose 7 Mr. Martineau doas business fox my cousin now, you know ,you should go to him.” “ Oh! well ms 9. good ‘hing tohave plenty,” said Jack, who had very little, owing to his mother’qsginginess. “ Good dayvto ye, and have a care how ye cross me again, ye little pretinder," said the great man as he stalked ofi the pre- mises. Jack always alluded to this as “ the garden scene,” and said that in Romeo and Juliet was nothing to it, but Clam felt alarmed and “ What for thin would I borrow money ?" replied Mulrooney, indignantly. “ I have money enough‘to buy ye all up. I have more than ye all. ” “ Ye may say no a thousand times, but I won’t take no,” returned the Mulrooney, “ for I am tould whin the leedies say no they mane yia, and if ye won‘t marry me then I’ll be a. bachelor foriver.” At. that instant Jack arrived, and Clara passing them both, fled to the house without. a. word. " Why,answer it,of course." said Jack, and between them they framed a stiff decided no, scarcely cool, certainly not grateful for the compliment intended. Far from being dannted by this rebuff. Mr. Mulrooney came to see Miss Clara, and Briggs thinking he came on business, pointed with her thumb to the gar- den. Into the garden the Mulroouey matched, a strong dark man; with beetling, thick eye- brows, and a. countenance like a thunder- cloud. Clara started at the sight of him, and would gladly have run away had any retreat been open, and looked so tremulous and alarmed that Mr. Mulrooney must have been as blind as a bat if he had not seen that she was afraid of him. ‘- What do you want 2” she asked, with a sort of gasp. “ I wilf not,” said Glare. flushing and turnâ€" ing pale. and then flushing agam w1th relief and gope. as she heard Jack’s whistle." “1 win; ye for a. wife, as ye well know, will ye marry me or will ya not,” replied the Muhloopgy. Mrs. Montgomery was not the only person who had matrimonial plans for Clara; a very near neighbor had for many a year regarded her as his future wile. This was Mr. Patrick Mulrooney, who lived on the opposite hill, a steep and high hill, from which he looked down upon her with fend aflection. This gentleman did not belong to the aristocratic settlement I am trying to describe, nor did he belong to the U. E. Loyalists. He told me that his father was a Tipperary peasant who had worked on the first road between Hamil- ton and Caledonia, and had his farm given him by the Canada company as a reward for his services. Mr. Mulrooney himself gave a very different account of his origin. He ad- mitted that his father came from “ ould Tip,” but declared that he was “ a descendant of prino 1s who lived in Ireland before iver the bloody Saxon set fut on the soil.” Be this as it may, the Mulrooneys throve and grew wealthy chiefly by rearing cattle for sale. They pulled down the shanty which had first housed “16%|. and erected a. large stone house of the tea chest order of architecture. and so soon as Mr. Montgomery died, Patrick, who had been sole possessor for many a year .(as his parents were dead and his brother and sisters married and gone), determined to de- clare himself, and take home his bride, for he never doubted that the lady would accept him. He had stood in too much awe of Mr. Mont- gomery to make an advance in his lifetime, but the old gentleman had not been in his grave six weeks, before Mr. Mulrooney sent a short note asking, nay demanding Clara’s hand in marriage, telling her he had loved her many a day, and now was the time to take him ; a letter which shocked her al- most as much as if it had been a bombshell. She consulted Jack about it, and he laughed so loud and long as he read the letter that his cousin thought proper to bring him to himself by a smart box on the ear. ladyhood triumphed over her narrow breed- ing. She never met a neighbor without speaking to him kindly, or bending her fair young head with a smile in answer to his rough scarcely civil salutation, a courtesy not unappreciated by the coarsest man of them all. After an excursion to Niagara she was stopped by three old women, who had never seen a railway, or been ten miles from home in their lives, and questioned about her journey and ” the big fall ” and Clara felt pleased by their confidence, though Briggs declared she had never heard of “ sich impi- dence." Jack. who was very proud of his cousin. often told of a scene he had witnessed in the Hamilton market, between an old Bin- brook farmer. anda Glanford man from their neighborhood. the Binbrook man was boast ing of the superiority of Binbrook turnips over those of Glanford, when he of Glan~ ford suddenly turned the tables by pointing to Clara as she rode through the market with her father. “What; are you laughmg it, air. The spelling? It’s not a bit worse than your own. Do be serious and tell me what I am to do 7” “ Maybe you’re nght about turmits, but don‘t be crackin’ yourself up. for you never riagnyfibiqg like that." ’l‘he'Binbiook man turned and looked, and Clara. at that moment, recognizing the face of an old neighbor, bowed with her sweetest smile. “ I‘m done,” said he of Binbrook “ I’m beat. Ill up and skedaddle; we hain’t got nothin’ to come up to that " “ 0h 1 They knew I was there. I couldn‘t go to sleep because of my ear. and I begged to bring the letter, and pa said no at first, but Uncle Tom said you would like it better if I brought it, so then he let me. We‘re going to have such a. nice time when you‘re my ma. We won’t have any nasty old governess then, for p9. says you are a regular uneasy, and was destined to receive another shock a week later, in the form of a brown paper parcel containing a. large blob of a brooch.a massive gold cross and a lady‘s ring, with the jeweler’s hill wrapped around them to show her how much the Mulrooney had paid for them. Again she took counsel with Jack, who advised her to lay the thing before the parish priest, who was Mr. Mulrooney’s confessor, and as she had no etheradviser, and felt Mr.vMulrooney’s suit both alarming and ridiculous, and didn’t know what to do, she drove that very after- noon to Father MeGrath’s and sent Jack in with the jewels and authority to 'explain the matter while she sat out in the cutter and waited for him. Jack gave him the packet and begged him to put a stop to Mr. Mul- rooney’s attentions. as they were frightening his cousin. who was very nervous and sad since her father’s death, and he told him of the garden scene and gave him Mr. Mul- rooney’s letter to read. The matter took the good priest by surprise, as Patrick had omitted to mention it in confession; “ but what the divil was she doing in the garden, that I should say so, at this season of the year ‘2” he asked. " ’Twas a fine day, sir and she went out to see the beesâ€"she’s very fond of her beesâ€" and fed two or three that came out in the sun- shine. She often picks them up in her fingers and they dqn’t sting her.” “ Oh l I know it," said Dickey. " I had ear ache last nightâ€"don’t you see the wool in my ear ?â€"and I cried to be with pa. and Uncle Tom in the parlor. I laid on the sofa and they thought I was asleep, and they talked about you, and pa said he was going marry you.” “ Yofi were a very naughty boy to listen, Dickey.’f 7 “Well, that’ sall sir,’ said Jack. “ Couldn’t you give him a light penance; 9. hair shirt or peas in his shoes. or something to keep him straight. 9" “ Yes, you may dear,” rubbing his hands in hers to warm them, “ and I’ll walk home with you to the very door ; a brave little man you are to turn out 30-day.” “ Wfly: Dickey, you. little goose, what makes you think that ‘2” “ I wouldn’ t do that to be made Pope," said the priest. ” Well ‘2“ _ “ That’s a letter.” said Dickey, producing it. “ A love letter from my pa. He’s going to mggy yogjisn’t that nAiceA?" “And you call those light penances, do you? Your pretty cousin is without, you say. I’ll go and speak to her,” and presently the portly priest stood before Clara and bowing to her cried out in a rich brogne, with a. smile that showed a White, even set of teeth, “Good day to ye, Miss Montgomery; it’s a shame 'for that dirty reprobnte to be frightening the beauty of the whole country side, that we’re all proud of, high and low ; and bringing disgrace on his priest "and his religion by his impudence; but I’ll see to him.” “ I’m going to stay to tea," he gasped-out as soon as he recovered breath 11. little, “ may I play_with the hrick_s, plepse _?” 01am blushed deeply, and tried not to smile as she answered, but. a dimple laughed out at Father McGrath in spite of her. “ I am sure its very wrong to ask a protestant to marry hlm sir, and we, thought you ought to know.” ‘ “ Sure you relight, I’m the person to apply to I 11 make him keep his eyes in his pocket the dirty spalpeen and not be desiring what’s meant for his bottom, so I will.” said the priest whose eyes twinkled with fun as he spoke, “ make your mind easy, my dear, I’ 11 tickle him up finyely. If you have more trouble with him, just let me know. Good- day and a. better husband to you. ” As much as I deserve! Why, that’s the lady, I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes In graces, and in qualities of breeding” â€"MERCHANT or VENICE. Mr. James Thomson had in his youth mar- ried Miss Drayton, and not without much opposition and many difficulties did he attain to that honor, for he was not considered by any means her equal : but husbands were scarce and the lady wilful. He was a nephew of Mrs. Montgomery, and an iron monger by trade, and no man in Canada knew better how to make money. Like Midas, he seemed to have a miraculous touch, and daily turned iron into gold. He had built a large stone house, with marble facings, about a mile from Mrs. Montgomery’s, and there he lived occasionally, his children always. His wife had died from an accident, having been se- verely hurt by the overturning of a cutter. Mr. Thomson was an Englishman, and a practical man, and prided himself upon both facts as though they had been virtues. He was highly respected, but not popular, being much too matter-of-fact to be agreeable com pany; to him, a spade was a spade,indeed, and never an agricultural instrument. You had to say exactly what you meant, if you wished Mr. Thomson to understand you ; for if once you indulged in a figure of speech, you lost his esteem. He remained a widower for two years after his wife’s death â€"â€"that he consid- ered a proper and respectable periodâ€"â€"â€"and now he decided to marry Clara Montgomery. He was quite sure of successâ€"being used to success in the iron trade. and never dreaming that any woman in her senses could refuse him. To be sure Miss Drayton had been'advised to refuse him, but thou'he was poor ; now he was rich and the case quite different. Success in ironmongering and success in love-making were, in his opinion, one and the same thing. But I wrong him by using the word love, a word he scorned as namby pamby and mean- ingless, for he had no more romance in his nature than the iron which he sold, yet he admired Clara in his way and meant to marry her; considered it a good match for her. Her person was handsome; her property suitable ; she was not too young; she was fond of child- ren, and he had six; he had known her many years. She was goodtempered and, he thought, tolerably sensible, but rather spoilt by indulgence, a defect easily set right by a little seasonable strictness on the part of her husband. Mr. Thomson made his proposal in a letter, which I presently intend to lay before the reader, and this letter he entrusted to his little son Dickey to take to Miss Mont gomery. Clara was exceedingly kind to Mr. Thomson’s children, and especially fond of Dickey, the youngest, a long-tongued, prattl- ing little fellow of seven. with a silky brown head, an old puck‘s face, and a cast in the eye. She encouraged this little chatter-box partly because he had been a pet of her father’s, and partly for his own sake, and he often came alone to see her and made himself more at home than Briggs liked. He did not scruple to put his arms round her neck and kiss her on both cheeks, taking an ear in each hand to steady himself ; a. caress always well received and generally re- turned. This little chap, with the momen-‘ tous letter pinned firmly inside his coat for sufety, came struggling through the snow, ‘ and up to Miss Montgomery‘s on a stormy March day. Seeing him see ran out andkeceived him with open arms ; kissed him affection ately, took off his wraps, and placed him in a warm chair with his feet to the cosey fire. For a time it really did seem as though the Mulrooney was subdued, but when theg fourâ€" teenth day of February came, his spirit rose and he sent Glam a gorgeous valentine, repre- senting two bloody hearts, stuck together by a yellow arrow, in which he called her his “ spirit/e bride.” Jack wanted to take it to Father McGrath, but Clara. thxew it into the fire in disdain, and would not hear of such a. thing. ‘4 Perhaps Mr. Mulrooney would hav‘heen content with occasional little protests of this kind, had not a rival appeared on the scene and driven him to desperation. This rival was Mr. J amcs Thompson a collateral branch of the little Montgomery colony, a widower and the father of six children. CHAPTER IV “ I‘m speaking to James Thompson, as never owned 8. heats of land in Hingland, and come to Canada. without a cent,” returned Briggs. speaking rapidly and without any re- gard to comma’s; “ and you’re a~speaking to Martha Briggs, as wan born in a good brick “ Come, stand aside, woman. I must see your mistress; 1 have special business with her.” said Mr. Thompson, who was much given to bullying in his own warehouse, and felt his temper rising. “ You forget who you are, and who you’re speaking to. Let me “It’s no more a falsehood for me to say she’s not at home, than for you to ask if she was at home when you knowed it all the time,” returned Briggs coolly. " She don’t; feel like company. for she told me so, and don’t want to be bothered with them as ’ad better be at. home. As you like truth, sir, that’s the truth exact for you.” Miss Clara had been playing the evening hymn, and “ Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.” carolled out in her sweet, powerful young voice, greeting Mr. Thomson as he opened her gate. What then was his surprise, when Briggs answered his question at the door with a. prompt " not at home, sir.” “ Yes, he has, Miss Clara, and he feltivery much hurt and out up, I assure you,” he an- swered, still extending the boquet. “ I will not take those flowers, Mr. Tom." “ Why, what shall I do with them ‘2” “ Anything you please. sir. I wish you good afternoon," and making hima superb bend, she walked in at her own gate and closed it. Mr. Tom, though a less practical man than his brother, did not like to waste a dollar, so he took the flowers home and put them in water, and when J smes returned he pointed to them and said briefly, “ she would- n’t have them." An arbitrary feeling akin to that which burned in the breast of the Mul- rooney, made Mr. Thompson utterly unwilling to take no for an answer ; an obstinscy, a. determination not to be beaten, but to force a. way to his end, had carried him through many a difficulty. ‘ “ I Willâ€"go up and talk to her," he said, and after dinner he went. “ She is ai; hon-1e; what do yoh mean by telling me such a. falsehood ‘2” asked Mr. Tholnrpson sharply. “ My p9. wants to marry you all the more because you’re such a healthy women " he proceeded, “ and he had such an awful long doctor’s bill when ma. died, and you can give Letty lessons in music and she need’nt go to Miss Anderson any more. It will be nice to have her at home she' makes such good tsffy, and you make lovely pastryâ€"you’ll give as lots of tarts, wont you ? Pa says he never tasted turkey stuffing to come up to yours,” Clara. gave a short brusque laugh which starv tled Dickey. but his arch falling down at that moment his attention was diverted, and the little tongue ran on as before. “ You stand up stifi, you old bricks, or I’ll give it to you. Then you have [lots of money Miss Clara and will be able to keep yourself and pay your servant, so you wont be an ex! pause to poor pa, or cross as mm was after she hurt her spine ; pa’a glad of that." _ " How doyou-knov'v she wins cross, you don't remember her ? " blue. whatever that means and you’ll teach us and save the expense of the governess, and I’m sure it'll be twice as nice." ” Pa. said so last night, and so did uncle Tom,” replied the little fellow. Tears sprang to Clara’s eyes, and a sort of sorrowful green scorn came into her face. Suddenly she rose and walked about the room, thinking perhaps of the poor mother who had clung to this baby, in her pain, and grieved so sorely to leave him. “ She can never be such a fool as to refuse me in earnest.” he said to his brother ; “ im- possible. But women are fools one and all, they like to be palavered and made love to, and precious little time a man of business has for that Still she’s a handsome woman, and it’s as well to humor her till the knot is tied, and then there must be an end of this non- sense. As you are going that way Tom, you might call and leave a boquet with my love. It’s thawing rapidly, and the flowers wont freeze in carrying. They’re precious dear at this season, that’s the worst of it, get the cheapest, I suppose it will cost a dollar. There are four more orders to fill, and then you may go.” Clara’s face flushed a little and her eyes widened, but Dickey building an arch on the hearth rug with bricks, pmttled on uncon- scious of the change, wrought by his reuela- tion. DEAR CLARA : We have known each other a. long time and there’s no need of formality between us. I have no doubt you often feel lonely now your father’s gone and wish for a husband (and very natural too) and I want a wife, so I think we had better make a match of it. We could be a. mutual benefit to each other. I know nothing of your father’s will, but I am willing of course to settle your prop- erty strictly on yourself and your children (if any) after you. Don’t send your answer by Dickey, as I shall be away till Saturday, but address to my place of business. You have known me so long that all things considered. there can be but one answer I think. so I’ll sign myself what I hope I am, your affection- ate future husband, JAMES THOMPSON. Unutterable scorn set upon Clara’s features as she read this letter. She did consult cousin Jack this time, or even mention the matter to him ; about this loverâ€"if he can be called one “she had no doubt, but sat down on the instant and wrote in her clearest hand : Sir, â€"I have received your proposal, and as you say there can be but one answer and that is no. I decline the intended honor and am sir, Yours truly. 0mm MONTGOMERY. Mr. Thompson rubbed his eyes when he had read the note end reed it Vagram. Clara. returning from a walk was over taken by this messenger of Cupid at her own gate. He checked his horse and lifted his hat with a smirk of recognition. “ My brother desired me to give you these flowers with his love," he said. “ I decline to take them," said the lady frigialy. “ Has your brother received my let- ter ?” “ Dickey. if the boy 1s father to the man, you will be a monster ef practicality,’ she said at last, stopping and stroking his head. “ What more did your father say of me 7” ‘5 Look, my arch is up. He said you were silly about books and poetry and that, but he’s soon cure you and give you something better to think of ; you could make up the household accountsâ€"poor pa. has to do them after he comes from the cityâ€"and you’d have to darn our stockings. We can’t bear the way Bridget dams them. They hurt our heels. Pa. says you can do it the German way and make the darn look just like the stocking. You showed my me. how to do it.” “ Yes. Dickey, I did.” “And you showed her how to make mead from the honeycomb, and pa. says it is a lovely drink ; you’ll make some for us, won’t you ? And oh ! Miss Clara won't you give me these bricks when you marry pa. 7" “ No, Dickey, I shall never give them to anybody. Papa sent for them to England when I was younger than you, and taught me to play with them. I shall never part with them." Clara shrugged her shoulders. “ You are your father’s own son; a. boy after his own heart," and when the little man was busy with his meal she opened her letter. Thus it ran : “ But you’ll let me play with ’em every day,1g]nen you’rrg my my. 7", i‘ What {would yoh like for tea. to-night ?” said Alias Chm} evading the brick qufzgtigp. V " Both would make you sick ; chose which you’ll have." ” 1 will. Do you love me a. little bit, Dickey ?” “ I guess I do a. great deal.” was the reply. “You will never give me upâ€"you will al- ways game to see me if papa will let you 7” "‘I’d come if he woufdxi‘t. I’d ru'n away. I’d go miles to play with these nice little bricks." ‘ “ Honey and peach jam,” return-ed Dickey, proqptly. 7 “ Peach jam," said Dickey, after a thought ful p_aus_q_; “‘and you’ll crack the s_t_on_es.i’_ SE. n He is placed in a very comfortable cell, he is fed on the finest butchers’ meat. the sweet- est of breadâ€"the authorities are careful and particular on this pointâ€"pleasant books are provided to calm his mind, he sees the morn- ing and evening papers, tracts are showered upon him by benevolent ladies. the best criminal lawyer in the Dominion is paid a monstrous sum for defending him. If his friends are too poor to pay for counsel, and the criminal has the misfortune not to belong to the noble order of Free Masons, Orange- men or Fenians, why the great large hearted, wrong headed public steps into the gap and provides a defender. If he belongs to any of these orders, the expenses of his trial are paid by the fraternity. The jury generally takes the popular (1'. e. crooked) view of the case, and acquits him, but if the judge‘s charge is so severe that his countrymen have to condemn him, they do it with a recom- mendation to mercy. Instantly a petition is set on foot and signed by their , sands, and his sentence is commuted from ten years to five. He is taken to King- ston and taught atrade, little accounts of him appear from time to time to keep the public interest alive. He writes to his family and the letters are published and copied from one paper to another. Another petition. His sentence is still further shortened, finally he is liberated, returns to the bosom of his family, is received with open arms and a kind of ovation. At the time of our story a case of peculiar interest was filling all the papers, a case of abduction, and no one watched the result with a keener attention than Mr. Mul- rooney, for the lady was of high rank and well connected and had been treated with peculiar brutality. The local papers were. of course, in favor of the criminal. to whom the lady had been engaged, but who had actually broken off the match because the poor fellow drank more of “ old Allen” than she approved A very light sentence was given the prisoner, who left his native city for Kingston amid the cheers and tears of the crowd. Miss Montgomery was not related to a sheriff or a iudge, as this lady was, had apparently no protector but a fat boy of eighteen. This lady had shown great courage. Miss Clara he felt sure was a coward ; she trembled and turned pale when he spoke to her in the gar. den, and when he once rode up to her side on horse back, she whipped her pony and fled from him at a mad gallop. and when he called house wi’ fourteen rooms init, for my feyther lived on his own land and his feyther before him, and his grandfeyther, aye,and his great- grandfeyther, and beside the house and barn there wus a wash’us, brewus, as well as a pig sLye, a duckus, a bakens and a dog kennel; and my feyther always had a good broadcloth cum, m' a gold piece in his pocket, and lived on the best 0’ beef and beer, and I’m a Woman as has always wore a good gown and had a change 0’ clean sweet wholesome linen every week, and some 0’ your unbleached calico, for I wouldn’t be seen in it, and lived upon the best 0’ vittles ever since I was born, a ’ighly respeetable woman that’s who you’re speaking to James Thompson, and the old muster if he was pulled out 0' his grave ‘ud say the same, for he ordered me a. good black gown because he respectcd me, a. woman as can do the sample as well as any lad; though I says it as shouldn’tâ€"â€"" “ Let me pass woman, 1 have had enough of this insolence, and more than enough." said Mr. Thompson, recovering from the flood of eloquence, which had well nigh swamped him ; and his blood was thoroughly up. “ I will see your mistress.” One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name." -0LD BALLAD. Mrs Cassidy’s story roused the latent fire of jealousy in the breast of the Muliooney and put him to torture. and he was obliged to take copious draughts of a liquor called “ old Allen"â€"very popular in Canadaâ€"to keep his spirits up. This cordial, taken in connection with another spirit which he and others call the spirit of liberty, but I call the misused power of the press, roused Mr. Mulrooney to madness. and ripened his passions for any rash and wicked deed. That Father McGrath had a. great and good influence with his con- gregation cannot be doubted. but his power was a feather weight against the mighty force of the local newspaper and “ old Allen ” com- bined. The local newspaper was Mr. Mulâ€" rooney’s sole mental food; he took no other; that and a quack almanac were the only literature he ever indulged in. He was by no means deficient in the power of reasoning, and had the mental quickness peculiar to his nation, and the newspaper soon taught him how he might gain the beautiful Clara, and distinguish himself forever at the same time. Having studied his paper for years, and learnt through its medium the spirit of the times, he knewâ€"who does not?~â€"the peculiar ten- derness which Canadians, as a na- tion, exhibit towards criminals. Let a man commit a murder, and he is at once a subject of the greatest interest, but let him perpetrate some nameless and shocking out- rage at the same time, which is almost or entirely worse than murder, and he is the hero of the day ; then let him profess penit- ence and say his heart is broken, and the public are delighted With him; his popularity is complete. The papers teem with the his- tory of the crime in all its minutiaz â€"that of courseâ€"but that is not all. We have his his tory, his early piety and how he fell, anec- dotes are related of him. phrenologists feel his head, and doctors examine it to see if there is a crack in it;experts, often being brought from a great distance for that pur- pose, the public paying their expenses. “ When she wishes it and not afore, hi ! Sally. the mop quick, the wet ’un, when Miss Clara says she’s at home she is at home, and when she says she is’nt she is’nt. nil Brutus, Brutus, here. here," exclaimed Briggs grasp- ing the door firmly and preparing for war. Now Brutus was a. cross between a. mastiff and a bull dog, and had a. spirit and will of his own as well as Briggs and Mr. Thompson ; he came at her call slowly, but bristling his back and growling, Sully also arriving at the same instant with a. wet mop and a. broad grin on her face, and Jack Montgomery cen- tering up at this juncture, their combined forces recalled Mr. Thompson to his senses and he beat a hasty retreat. Still angry and unwilling to be beaten, he went to his aunt, Mrs. Montgomery, to enlist her sympathies, but she did not back him up as he hoped, having as we knew other vie we for Ulara. " Women are queer creatures,” she said, “ and full 0’ whims, and when it comes to marrying. James,why one is pretty much the same as another. I’d try somebody else, no fear of your getting a wife and if she is’nt- as pretty as Clara, maybe she won’t be so spoiled. ” 7 “ Aunt; Sarah,” said Mr. Thompson solemn- ly, “ there’s no excuse for a woman of thirty refusing a good ofi‘er; it’s flying in the face of Providence, and take my word for it evil will come to Clara. This remark tickled Mrs. Montogomery’s sense of humor, and she repeated it to Jack, who received it with a roar of laughter, and repeated it to his friend Gustavus Adolphus Browne who Said “ upon my word these old fellows beat all for cheek,” and in his turn repeated it to Mr. Jackson, who told his wife, who shouted it into the ear of deaf old Mr. Danton, when she called to sympathize with him about his gout, and he being very deaf, quite misunderstood the point of the story, and repeated it to his wife with strange varia- tions. Mrs. Danton who loved a bit of gossip repeated it to her maid Judy, who told her aunt Mrs. Mary Mulligan, who told Mrs. Bridget Cassiday, who meeting Mr. Patrick Mulrooney returning from the air told himâ€"â€" what ? “ Miss Clara is to be wedded to Misther Thompson on the last day of March that‘s coming on, as I’m a. living woman and God’s above us all, the Vargin protict her, and sorrow go wid him that I should say so, for the manest lmtchet faced man that iver sould iron wid a heart as hard as its self, and howiver she tuck him I can’t conceive, wid six bould children riddy made, an’ that’s me news Paterick Mulrooney an’ the divil a lie in it, and sorry I am to tell it,but Heaven’s above all.” CHAPTER V. mMiss Flora Torrey, stepdaughter of Judge W. R. Wagstafi’, of Paola, Kan., has just been admitted to the bar, after a search- ing examination. She is a handsome blonde. highly educated. and accomplished in music and painting. -â€"Lord Airlie has recently made a large purchase of Land in Colorado. on behalf of a relative who intends to settle there as a farm- er. He is the author of an interesting article in the Nineteenth Century, on the United States as a field for agricultural settlers. n One of the oldest churches on the Ameriâ€" can continent is the Tumacaco Church near Tubae, Arizona. It was built by the Fran- ciscans in 1554, and has consequently reached the age of 327 years. Fifty-six years ago Indians murdered seven priests within its walls, and twenty-five years ago several priests came from Rome and ”dug from a sepulchre on the right side of the altar $80“ 000 in coin and jewels. â€"BnAconsr1ELD‘s ABSENCE or M1ND.â€"At the close of the debate in the House of Lords on the Gandahar question a curious incident is said to have occurred. After the division, in which the Government was beaten by BU ivotes, an unexpectedly large majority. as the Conservative majority in the Peers 1s only 63, Lord Beaconsfield, apparently in a dreamy fit of abstraction, walked slowly up to the Treasury bench as if he were about to resum: the front seat he occupied when Prime Minis- ter. On reaching it and finding Earl Gran- ville in occupation he smiled to himself. quickly turned round and crossed the House to the Opposition benches. At this there was a general laugh, Lord Beaconsfield himself joining in the hilarityâ€"a thing never seen before by mortal man. Had the adverse ma- jority been in the other Chamber this might have been thought to foreshadow the return of Endymion to his old place, but as thing are at preSent, the move towards the Treasur benches appears to have been made a littl too soon. at the house in the evening it was Mr. Briggs who encountered him and gave him the length of her tongue. not Miss Clam. He laid aside his first cm 18 thought of riding Mr. Thompson on a rail and determined to abduct the lady of his choice, who had treated him with so much scorn, and marry her by force. Having made up his mind he went to Caledonia, telegraphed to some cousins who live in a certain happy village almost en- tirely inhabited by Mulrooney’s. Thus the message ran. “ Brian, 'L‘hady. and Con Mulv money come now, for I want ye,” and in a few days there appeared at the Mulrooney mansion three dark young giants, all over six feet in height, come to counsel and help their kinsman. At first they were averse to his plan. seeing that they would run some risk in helping him and gain nothing by it, but he promised largely and primed them with “ old Allen," and presently Con struck his fist on the table and announced that he was “ ripe for a row." _ “ An owl as likely as not,”said Jack ; “they do make a queer noise. You’ve started Brutus,” and with the new gun in his right hand and a candle in his left he sallied down stairs, feeling every hall a hero. He cocked the gun as he opened the front door. and whether it was that he was unaccustomed to firearms or that he was nervous‘ he touched the trigger accidentally and off it went with a banging report that made Brian’s horse run away and his brothers run after him, as fast as their legs could carry them, for the bullet had whizzed past their cost tails. So they left Pat to his fate, “ for a gun in the hands of a. woman is a divil of a. wippon,” said (ion, “ they never know where they fire.” ( To BE CONTINUED.) “ I‘ll follow ye,” cried Thady waving his shelalah, and having arranged their plans they drank one more bumper to the success of their scheme and set off through the dark- ness to Miss Montgomery’s house, Brian the most sober driving the buggy and the rest striding behind. They had decided that Pat should get into Miss Montgomery’s bed room by the chimney. He had vague memories of a wide open fire place, that he had seen when a boy before Mr. Montgomery bought the house and felt sure the lady slept in that room because there was always a light at night. sometimes all night. He had heard that Miss Montgomery locked her door on the inside. The room was on the ground floor and once in he could open the win- dow easily and let in his com- panions, then they would gag the lady, place her in the buggy, and be off to Hamilton before daylight. As it grew late, or rather early. for it was 2 o’clock, there was no time to be lost, and while Mr. Mulrooney is mounting the roof in his stocking feet, and preparing himself for a descent down the chimney. I will briefly explain the mistake he made with regard to the chamber on the ground floor with the light in it. Mr. Mont- gomery had died there, but I laid in state in another room, and for the present Sally Briggs slept there alone. because, in slyly try- ing her skill on Miss Clara’s skates. she had hurt her ankle, and was unable to get up stairs without difficulty; but she was half afraid to sleep in the room where her old master had died so recently. so kept a light burning all night, unknown to the rest of the household. The fireplace, Mr. Mulrooney re- membered, had been bricked up and papered over thirty years before to keep the draught from Mrs. Montgomery, who was in delicate health, and a stove substituted in its place. A little mistake is often fatal to a great en- terprise; but Mr. Mulrooney, unconscious of his error, settled himself to his work like a London chimney sweeper, back at one side, and knees at the other; and, as he slowly wriggled down, the chimney widened. His friends were waiting quietly at the window be- low, and there was no one to observe his movements but Clara’s big black cat Clutie. This puss was not nervous like the majority of her race, but hold and impudent; she had always been treated kindly, nay, pampered with tit-bits and dainties; her calls attended to, her wants considered ; she was lady para mount in the kitchen; and a welcome guest in the parlor. She had never been injured or teazed, and therefore feared no man, and only now felts. natural curiosity as to what Mr. Mulrooney might be doing in the c imney. She thereupon mounted to the top and looked down on him, leaning over to get a good view, as she had many a time looked down at the swallows, safe and indifferent in their nests a yard below her claws. As she looked down Mr. Mulrooney happened to look up, to see how far he had got, and lol two great green eyes were fixed on his upturned face, shining fiercely. His knees shook, he lost his balance. slipped, found nothing to clutch and went tumbling to the bottom, carrying with him innumerable dirty swallows’ nests and landing at last knee-deep in the accumulated soot and dust of thirty years. Startled by the spirited conduct of Mr. Mulrooney, blinded by the cloud of soot and dust that suddenly ascended, Clutie, who had leaned over rather too far, lost her balance and rolled down on the top of him, digging her claws into his face and neck with such a screech as only a cat can give in mortal terror. What Mr. Mulrooney thought under these trying circumstances it is impossible to say, but he certainly did not think, at least, at first, that it was a mere mortal cat, for the mingled yell and roar that he gave in hi terror quite curdlad the blood of his relatives in the yard below, drove Clutie to madness, roused Brutus from a deep sleep, and made him tug at his chain with a furious bark, and caused Sally Briggs to bound out of bed as if shot from a catapult, and rush up stairs screaming ” mur- der " as she went, varied by the cry of “Mother! Mr. Jacki Miss Clara!” as she finally fell sobbing on the floor of her moth er’s room. “ Thieves or I don’t know what. I heard a. dreadful yqll ithhg chimney,” {gig Sally. _ “ Stop screechin‘ or I’ll leather ’ee," cried Briggs. whose dialect was always strong when under excitement. “ What’s up for goodness sake ?” shouted Jack (who by an accident happened to be staying in the house) as he struggled into his nether garments, while Clam trembliugly slipped on a dressing-gown and slippers, and struck a. light in her own room.