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“ Marriage,’ says one, “ is life’ a summum bonum; it is the chief end and aim of woman, and the most important episodein the history of a. man. Here the scene should end, and the: curtain drop: to carry the story farther would be simply a barbarism. opposed to all literary laws. When a man dies or gets man ied there is an end of him; all interest 11: his fate is over forever; we no more think of describ- ing him in his domestic career than we think of speculating about his fate in Paradise or the other place. Good taste and delicacy forbid u: to go further. ” It has been my happy fate as an author to receive a great deal of private criticism and advice in and abe'ut all my literary undertak- ings, and all my critics agree that a love story ought to end when the hero and heroine ere fairly married. “ Very appropriate,” said Mr. Feversham, with an odd laugh. as Clara appeared in her traveling dress ; but all the wedding cere- monies were not yet over. for it is the custom in Upper Canada to throw a stinging shower of rice into the very face of bride and bride groom for luck, as they are driving away. Mr. Feversham knew nothing of this, and Clara had forgotten it, and with such steady aim and good will was this rite performed, that it was simply a miracle that bride and bride groom were not blinded for life. Then came the long drive over theold plank road to Hamilton diversified by the tail or the storm as they neared the city, and when at last they drew up at the station Jack Montgomery received them, disreputable in appearance, but tri~1 umphant at heart, and Mr. Gustavus Adol phus Browne, with a black eye, shyly peep. ing over his shoulder. “ Mulrooney‘s all safe in the look-up ; he'll have to give sureties in the morning to keep the peace towards you in the future. I’ve got your tickets and will check your baggage; there’s no time to lose. The Pullman car is the last; ’twas hard work to get it, on so short‘a notice ;” and Jack was OR for the checks. The two best men were the last to shake hands and give the happy couple their good wishes, and so confused and excited had the day been, that Clara did not realize hcr marriage till the train was in mo tion and Mr. Feversham said with deep sym- pathy, “ You are quite worn out, my dearest, --you have had a dayvil of a day." “A thunder stoun always upsets me terri bly," he laid, “ and I wonder that I did not behave worse. I was really so unnerved that I scarcely knew what I was saying, and theie was one text running in my head all the time; it’ s the greatest wonder I did not introduce it into the ceremony." “ Awâ€"and what text was that f" “ The stars' 1n their courses fought against Bidera ” “ Feelings too deep for speech." said the elder Feversham cynically, at which every body laughed, and poor Mr. Darlington blushed a deeper crimson, and seemed an the eve of an apoplectic fit. Aftert ‘8 there were no more speeches, but to Clara t 9 breakfast seemed interminably endless. Her aunt sat opposite to her and frowned upon her, and lingered over the meal with a slow enjoyment it was terrible to see ; for though she hated the occasion of the festivity, she loved the ham, the cold fowl, the trifle, the ice cream, the bride's cake, and drank the wine though she despised the toasts, and joined in none of the good wishes. At last however it was over and Clara retired to her own room to change her dress. She was met at the door by Briggs, who exclaimed with her apron to her eyes, " how awful these storms do be ; and on! Miss Clara, sad I am to say it, how unlucky you be to have a storm on your wed- ding day, forI never yet knowed a bride hap- y as the rain rained on, and now there I’ve been and called you Miss Clara instead 0' Mrs. Feversham, and that's another evil sign. God forgive me ; and law, as I'm‘ a living sinner, there was only thirteen at the table till Mr. Tom Thompson came back after taking them little himps ’erne, as never had any business here. and all a-cryin’ and a roarin’ together. because they couldn’t stay to the breakfast, and Dicky wus the wust. If that boy doesn’t come to the gallows or wuss, my name isn’t Martha Briggs, and me as could ha’ cust ’irn, that I should say so. ’ad to give ’im jelly, as wus good enough for the Queen. stop ”is din.” While Clara was thus entertained, the cler- gyman was apologizing for his nervousness» I during the ceremonyqfor he had suddenly dis- covered that the bridegroom was aremarkably gentlemanly young man, having taken a pri- vate peep at his fee, and found it unusually large. The poor victim thus pitched upon a lad of seventeen was quite unequal to the occasion ; he blushed violently and wished in his heart that the thunder storm would come on again or that the earth would open and swallow him up. but no such blessed catastrophes happen ing, after fidgetting in his chair for a. few min- utes and drawing all eyes upon him. he at last said with a crimson face and many stam- mers, “ I~ 1â€"1 m don’t wish them any harm, but Iâ€"I can’t say anything about them.” “ That’s well-said,” exclaimed Mr. Jackson, springing to his feet. “ and now I have a toast to propose, a toast that will touch a. chord in every manly heartâ€"The bridesmaids â€"May their hearts always be as white as their gowns, and as warm as the day, may they all live to see our pretty bride 11 great grandmother, and each have a good husband before the year is out. Mr. Derlington you are the youngest gentleman present, you must respond for them. We expect a brilliant speech.” - " I thank you,” he said, ” for my wife and myself. Your speech awâ€"reminds me of the old table of the fox and the grapes. I suppose it’s impossible for a fellow to take a prize like mine. worth living and dying for, whether it‘s a. rich ship or a. beautiful lady, without incurring some envy, though it’s generally not so openly expressed ; but, when a. cup is full it is full, and my heart being full of happiness, there is no room in it for ill feeling of any kind. I have the desire of my heart and thank 9.11 my well-wishers.” a year, but were perfectly aware that the speaker had known him from 9. baby. It was the lady he meant by “ a. rich Spanish gal- leon," , not her fortune, which he despised as petty and paltry, for men who are accustomed to handle thousands think very little of hun- dreds. and those who “ usually count ” in pounjs are apt to dispise dollars. But every heater save his nephew misunderstood him. and the young gentleman after staring at him steadily for a. few minutes through his eye- glass, dropped it with a click, and touching the bride‘s glass with his own drank the toast and rose to his feet to reply. This speech though a momentary spurt of ill~temper and disappointment, half jest. half eamest, was an unfortunate one, and had an unhappy 93th upon his hearers, none of whom had known Mr. Feversham more than " I propose,” he said, “ the health of my nephew and the bride of his choice. I give them my hearty good wishes. The gendeâ€" man is all triumphs, I perceive, like a bold buccaneer who has just; captured a. rich Span- ish galleon. I can only hope that the fairest bride I have looked on for many a. day may not regret he: choice. She thinks him grace- ful, may she never find him graceless"â€"in a tone that implied she wouldâ€"” I drink to them." Mr. Martiueeu, who had come to show the eldei Fevershnm the way, returned with them, and so did two other young fellows, who were not in love with the bridesmaids or any other lady present, and thought it would be better fun then the wedding breakfast. Mr. Fever- lham's uncle remained with the bridal party, was introduced to everybody ; borrowed a. suit of his nephew’s clothes, in which he looked highly rediculoua, and made the first speech, in which that deadly little weapon, the tongue, did mighty execution in a few words. fully damaged, and he begged me $0 give you his good Wishes Clara, and excuse him for not coming to shake hands. As we look so rowdy we’llgo to Hamilton with Mulronney and see him safe in the lock-up." ‘1 n: J FIRST TWO.-â€"Matr1mony [CONTINUED mum man man; Gunman XIII. “ The people of Penetanguishene are very ,nice and kind, and the boys at the Reforma- ‘ tory are making some little boxes. I have had one made of birds eye maple for your mother. tell her, and I have a little basket for you to keep your spools in, made by the In dians, of sweet scented grass, and some shells for Dickey. My love to Dickey, but he is not to have the new kitten when its eyes are open, I positively forbid it. Tell your mother so; I he would tear it head from tail. And give the old cat some meat every day as well as new milk; you will never have need to regret kind ess to animals. You see I am not an old maid as everybody predicted. although I love cats. And Sally, don’t forget to water the pitcher plant thoroughly every night. and take particular care of my pet fuchsia, you know it was papa’s last gift and I should be grieved to lose it, I am sure you are right about old Mrs. Anderson, she is a thoroughly nice kind Scotch body. By all ‘means let her teach you how to make willow baskets, and I will pay her for it. I should like you to know how to do everything that is nice and useful with your hands, and for that matter, not only you, but every Canadian ‘ woman through the length and breadth of the land. Give Mrs. Anderson as much rhubarb 3 as she wants, and any lettuce, or other garden l stuff you have to spare. and a little milk, daily. It is hard to be a w' ow and childless. Remember me kindly toMrs. riggs,and tell her not to kill herself house cleaning, there were cobwebs in Soloman’s palace, and why not in mine? (“ And thot shows what a dirty set 0’ sluts he had about ’im, and no better than they should be by all accounts.” exclaimed Briggs. as her daughter read.) Mr. Feversham “There are eighty thousand islands in the bay, and we camped out for a few days on one of them’. and I enjoyed it greatly although there were snakes, both copper heads and rattle snakes. Our island is an immense high grey rock, covered with moss, in some places so thick that it was as good as a feather bed to lie on. There are a few clumps of trees here and there, wherever they can find a little earth, but they do not grow very high. We took two tents and two Indians to do the cooking, camp chairs and any number of shawls. pillows and rugs, and our favorite books, so we had nothing to do but explore the island and enjoy ourselves. ‘Tha moon was at the full and the weather lovely, and we slept with the tent door open. Waking in the night I could see the moon shining, and hear the coon’s plaintive, quav- 3 ering cry. The solitude of this island is de~ licious, and solitude is not loneliness. Sally, though the dictionary may say so. To think that this island was standing here all through 'my busy. happy childhood and I knew it not -â€"for it is too small to be marked on any map â€"that it stood here a thousand years ago, and the bright sun shimmered on the water, and the moon rose and smiled on it just as it does now. Then all these lovely islands were in solitary, undiscovered grandeur. un- Known except to savages. I shall always be better for having come here. it will be a pleasure all my life to look back upon and re- member. I‘hese islands bring me nearer God. “IDEAR SALLY : I know you ‘will be anxious to hear about me, no I thought I would write. It is four weeks to day since I left~n scarcely seems so longâ€"and I will not be at home for a. fortnight yet. It is such a beautiful place and such a rest and pleasure to be here. that I have persuaded Mr. Fevetsham to stay two weeks longer than we at first intended. “Remember me kindly to Auntyzand expect me home a fortnight from to-day. I shall be disappointed if I don‘t see your dear old r‘ound face at the station, and I am now as always. Your affectionate cousin, To _S_ally Bjiggs in New Hampshireâ€"will you Joe of the party? Horace desires his kind regards and Iâ€"I send love upon loves to my brave cousin who saved my husband’s life. You are a hero, Jack, and so is Gussy Browne. Remember me very kindly to him. Horace says he is a. very gentlemanly fellow, and desired to be remem- bered to him. “ I am very {vell and happy. andvenjoyrinrgr myself greatly. We have planned to spend pur ggooud honey moon at " The Notch ” " You must come here dear Jack, here and nowhere else for a wedding tour, and see the lovely green undulating shore, the boats, the ever varying, never resting water. Even the prison doesn’t sudden much, for the boys are well cared for and all look happy, and I am sure it must do them good morally, to be placed in the midst of such lovely scenery. “ The stone house,” formerly a. fort, is the men interesting house in Penetanguishene. “ There is quite a refined, pleasant society :here, and every body is very kind. Horace had two letters of introduction and now we know everybody. The reformatory is very, very clean and well kept, and the boys look cheerful, poor fellows, some of them are quite children. They make boxes. and I am getting one made for you. to keep your tren- sures inâ€"no tobacco understandâ€"it’s a great waste of money for a boy like you to smoke, it is of courst different with older men. (a long interjectional whistle from Jack at this part of the letter). The scenery here is most beautiful, the islands of all shapes and sizes, One is called ” The Giant’s Tomb,” it is marked on the map, look for it. It is covered with trees right down to the water’s edge, and just in the center there are a lot of trees ris- ing higher than the rest, resembling perfectly a great green globe. It is very beautiful, but very somber too ; we mean to explore it to marrow. We camped out for three days. on another island, and Horace found a lovely bathing place almest surrounded by rocks, and took me down one afternoon to see his “ bathing house ” as he called it, when I saw in the water to my horror 8. shakenâ€"Briggs would say another bad omen. I could see its head above the clear water, its .mouth open and its red tongue flashing in and out. Horace gave chase with a stick and got} his feet wet, but of course it escaped. l To Mr J. Montgomery. “ PENETANGUISBENE June29,18â€" “ My DEAR JACK: You’ re a bad boy not to have written a. longer letter, but even a line is welcome. I was quite worn out and nearly beside myself on that wild wedding day of mine, and thoroughly frightened, too. I hope Pat. Mulrooney will not return to the neig h- borhood. Do you think he would shoot Horace when he 15 sober. ”But under your favor," exclaimed the seventh critic, and this a lady. “ If the story ends so abruptly it will look as if it was written by a raw beginner. You must tell us how long they lived together and if they quarrcled, and how many children they had, and if they were boys or girls, and what their names were, and whether they resembled their father or mother, and if Mr. Feversham and Mrs. Montgomery were ever reconciled to the marâ€" riage, and if there was any truth in the ill- omens ) and how many servants they kept, and what became of Mulrooney, end â€"â€"-" but here I cried for mercy, and promised the lady another chapter or two, and to save my- self trouble I begin by giving the public three letters verbatim : “ I am entirely of your opinion,” said adviser the sixth, “ enough is enough, when a man‘s married his sorrows begin, let the poor fellow be. leave him in decent privacy ; do not tell us how his Clem regretted Tomp- son and Mulrooney and reproached him for hurrying her into a. hasty match. They are married and_that’e enough.” “ Arid you could not make it interesting,” chimed in a. fifth. “ Remember the axiom of the witty Frenchman, ‘courtship is the charming riddle. marriage the tedious solu- tion.’ ” “ There is too much of it already," said a third voice. ” To pursue the thing further would be coarse,” said a. fourth. “ Just so,” chimes in another voice. “ the ground is too sacred, too delicate, to intrudo upon ; you might just give usa faint glimpae. a sort of vignette View of the happy pair strolling along the shore of Penetanguishene like Adam and Eve in Paradise, picking up shells and aathering sea-weed, as our first pau'nts might have done on the banks of the Euphrates but that is all.” LETTER THE SECOND . CLARA ." the says if you wish to live and thrive, let the 1d. spiders go alive. (“ And he might be ashamed me. of hisself to say it,” exclaimed the commenta- ieir tor angrily. “ but he’s ashamed o’ nothin’. I’d me ‘rather never thrive than live with nasty in- up lsects, and I don’t care to bein the house with rat a daddy long legs, whether its a man or a. :he spider.” with a shake of her head not compli mentsry to Mr. Fevershem.) It's all nonsense I a to say it’s unlucky to marry in May, the most beautiful month in the year. I think your be mother can't be well to have such gloomy fancies. (A sniff from Briggs, expressing disdain.) If she wears you out with house )m eleaning,’never mind the weeds in the garden .he till I come back. Mr. Feversham is waiting 111- to take me for a row on the hey. so I will say good bye, dear;Sally. Lid “Your affectionate friend and mistress. en “ CLARA FEVEBSHAM. “P. 8. â€"â€"Please show this letter to Mr. Jack, as I eannot write to him till next week. 0. F." 1 â€"-A pretty servant girl in a Rochester boarding house won the ardent love of two ‘boarders. Both desired to marry her. She ‘was puzzled to choose between them. and further complicated the affair by accepting first one and then the other. The rivals at length agreed to meet her in a room together and get her final decision. When the mo mentous occasion came, one tried to in- fluence her by drawing a knife and declaring1 that he would not survive refusal. The‘ other, not to be outdone, placed a pistol at his head and swore that he would blow his brains out in case of disappointment. She took the dagger man, and the pistol man allowed himself to be disarmed, though he vows he will die on her wedding day. -â€"The plug hat is virtually a sort of a social guarantee for the preservation of peace and order. He who puts one on has given a hostage to the community for his good be- havior. The wearer of a. plug hat must move with a certain sedateness and propriety. He cannot run. not jump, nor romp, nor get into a fight, except at the peril of the head-gear. All the hidden influences of the beaver tend toward respectability. “ Ottawa, May 29. " P. S.â€"I wrote to Jack as soon as I heard of his absurd fancy, and proposed a hunting expedition, for the game laws here are nearly a dead letter, and a man may shoot at any season. I thought it would divert him, knowing his love for sport. but he coolly told me that his life was too precious to waste. and I must go poaching alone. G. F. A. F." [To BE CONTINUEDJ “ I shall be home in August,adieu my dear. I know this will be a great blow to you, but make the best of it, the young woman’s beauty is at least no myth ; her portrait by a. good artist. Maclice, or the German fellow so popular with the Queenâ€"I forget his nameâ€" would be quite an addition to the gallery at home. Again, my dear, I say adieu, and beg you to cheer up, and make the best of it. The young woman is quite virtuous, the lawyer assured me. and would not have taken Jack paramour. and there is nothing disgraceful in the connection, since it's not a penal colony ; it 5 simply ridiculous, and she may not live to be old, we must hope for the best, and do not blame me for it came upon me quite by surpris e Any other scrape I was prepared for, but I never thought Jack foolish about women. if you scold my young gentleman, he will be.l upon his mettle I promise you, for he is very much in love. With the greatest sympathy, I am, my dear Elizabeth, “ Your afieo ionate brother, “ GEORGE F. A. anmnsmu. It‘s the first loyv marriage made by one of our family for five hundred years, except your grandfather, who married the old jew’s daughter, and as the girl brought half 9. mil ‘lion to the house there was some excuse for him, but none for Jack. I never pass an hour without thinking of you, my poor Elizabeth, upon’ my soul its too exasperating, to think that your son, who has seen the beauties of Rotten Row, should ruin himself irretrievably for a. pretty face that is not even young. He deserves to be disinherited, but that you can- not do as the will stands, but as his majority is fixed at six and twenty, and he holds the Denham property till then at your pleasure, you might withhold the rent, and let him live like a beggar for the next eighteen months, and a very light punishment for his imbeci- lity. He has furnished a common stone house, on his farmâ€"a hilly picturesque bit of land, with a. trout stream running through it, and is building quite extensively as if he meant to turn colonist and live there forever. The only comfort I can pick out of it. dear, is that it's not a penal colony, and the girl cannot be of convict descent. “ I was, I assure you, quite ill While in Hamilton, had a fearful attack of neuralgia while at the lawyer’s house, where I was so foolish as to drink a glass of abominable wine â€"he called it port. I gave the fellow fifty pounds for his services, a reasonable fee, for he did his best to prevent the marriage. The woman is very handsome, I admit; her hair is especially fine, a fleece of rich brown and very long, but when you say that you say all. There is nothing to desire but her beauty, and he, poor fool, is evidently quite in love, as proud as though he had led a forlorn hope. I forbear to relate how Briggs answered this burst of rebellion on Sally’s part, and rather prefer to conclude the chapter by placing before the reader the letter of a most refined and aristocratic gentleman as a bonne bouche. The Hon. George Feversham to Lady Eliza- beth Fevereham. My DEAR ELIZABETH.-It is a sad duty that devolves on me, and you must prepare your- self to hear the very worst. The jackal is actually married, and a more foolish redicu- lous match was never made by one of the beau monde since the world began. I assure you, my dear, it is not my fault, and you must pity, not blame me. As soon as I ob- tained the necessary leave, I traveled night and day from Ottawa. I drove the last five miles over execrable roads, during quite a tropical thunder storm, but all in vain, the ceremony was just over when I reached the church. I saw the bride and all her friends and relations a pack of burgeois; her aunt, the most vulgar person I ever spoke to in all my life, did me the honor to correspond with Ime because she objected to the marriage. ,Her neice being a pretty heiress. The old ‘woman spells abominably, and drops her h’s about everywhere. Jack’s wife is ahandsome dummy. nothing more, she scarce spoke, seemed verylnervous ; an old lover (a swear- ing, ranting Irishman) had tried to shoot Jack at the altar. When I first saw her she was shaking like an aspen leaf. She is certainly much older than Jack, and not, I, should think a woman of any 110-} bility of character. Showed no i courage, no calmness. Why you my dear l at her age would not have blanched at a bul- let, or a thunder storm. You could have faced a lion, or marched up to a cannon’s mouth. “ Mother,” said Sally, her arms e~kimbo and her broad face blazing with indignation, “ You ’ave no ’art, and sad I ham to say hit. She’s taught me all I know; how to read. and the biggest word in the Bible I don’t stick at; and to write plain as anybody can read it; and to do fine sewing and knit the open-Work stacking; and crochet like any lady; and to do French made dishes an’ all like a man cook, an’ before she shall come to want I’ll kill myself a-workin’ and eatnln’ money for her, so there’s tor you. If I hev no sense, you hev no gratitude.” “ A new broom sweeps clean, as the sayin’ is," said Briggs, as her daughter concluded, “ but wait awhile and you’ll sce as there’ll be troubleâ€"not as I wishes it. oh l noâ€"but put .wo wasteful ones together and they ’11 come to poverty, and want is sharp for them as isn‘t used to it. A-wasting good rhubarb and milk as would make butter, or sell for money on that old fagot of a widder, as if she’s the only one in the country, and you are wuss than Miss blara to tell her about her. You may have to live by basket making or wuss if you hev so little sense as to be puttin' her up to new ways 0’ wastin’ her havings.” “ You will have to get another man," she said. “ You might have known that. Go and ggt qne somewhere.” iinda ' ' ‘77 H mm H " When mun ha put them? " aha naked Miss Belinda. was astonished afresh by the alacrity with which her niece seemed to forget her troubles and rise to the occasion. The girl ran to the front door as if she was quite used to directing her own affairs, and began to issue her orders. Arid when the man went off, grumbling a limle, and evidently at a loss before such peremptory coolness. the tutTd to Miss Be- Iinr'ln “ Miize,” replied Octavia. “ Wait a minute‘ I’ll go out to him.” “ Six !" exclaimed Miss Belinda. “ Whose are they {’7’ " The man from the Lion. mum, wants to know what’s to be done with the trunks. There’s six of ”em. an’ they’re all that ’eavy as he says he would’t lift one alone for ten shilling." But she was interupted by the re-entrance of My} Annefl Miss Belinda took a sip of the water brought by her handmaiden. replaced the glass upon the salver, and shook her head deprecatingly. _ _ "Providence. mydenr,â€"-â€"” began Miss Belinda. Her tone was such that Octavia removed her handkerchief from her eyes and sat up to examine her. “ Are you frightened 7 ” she asked, in some alarm. Octavié p11: up her handkerchief again to wipe_ gway a sudden 139w gush of tears. “ If shares intended to go down," 'she said, “ I don’t see why they couldn‘t go down before we started, instead of waiting un til we got over here, and then spoiling every- thing." “Not exicily frightened, my dear.” she said, “ but so amazed that I find it diflicult to â€"to collect myself.” “ Iâ€"Pm Octavia B-bassett." she said. “ We were coming to surpuprise you, and travel in Europe, but the mines went wrong. and p-pa. was obliged to go back to Ne- wads." ” The mines? " gasped Miss Belinda. ” 8 silver mines," wept Octavia. “ And we had scarcely landed when Piper cabled, and pa had to turn back. It was something about shares, and he may have lost his last. dollar! " Miss Belinda sank into a chair herself. " Mary Anne,” she said,fsintly, “bring me a glass of water.” “ Pa’s,” was Hie ans-war. “ Oh, I see you didn’t." And she sank into the nearest chair. put- ting her hands up to her face. and beginning to cry outnghy. She made a step forward, and then stopped coking at Miss Belinda. Helloyes sudden- ly, to Miss Belinda’a amazement, filled with tears. “ Didn’t you," she said,-â€"“ Oh dear, didn’t you get therletfier ? ’f ' “ Theâ€"the letter! ” taltered Min Belinda. “ W133i} lgttet, myâ€"my dear? ” , In Blowbridge, America was not approved of â€"â€"in fact, was almost entirely ignored, as a country where, to quote Lady Theobald. “ the laws were loose, and the prevailing sentiments revolutionary.” It was not con- sidered good taste to know Americans, â€" which was not unfortunate, as there were none to know,â€"-and Miss Belinda Bassett had always felt a delicacy 1n mentioning her only brother, who had emigrated to the United States' in his youth, having first dis- graced himself by the utterance of the blas- phemous remark that “ he wanted to get to a place where a fellow could stretch himself and not be bullied by a lot of old tabhies." From the day ' of his departure, when he had left Miss Belinda bathed in tears of anguish. she had heard nothing of him. and here upon the threshold stood Mary Anne. with delighted eagerness in her countenance repeating : “ Your niece, mum. from ’Meriker!" And, with the words. her niece entered. Miss Belinda put her hand to her heart. The young lady thus announced, was the prettiest, and at the same time the most ex~ traordinary looking, young lady she had ever seen in her life. Slowbridge contained noth- ing approaching this niece. Her dress was so very stylish that it was quite startling in its effect, her forehead was covered, down to her large, pretty eyes themselves, with curls of yellow brown hair, and her slender throat was swathed round and round with a grand scarf of black lace. “ With mills and mill hands,” her lady ship announced to Mr. Laurence, the mill owner. when chance first threw them to gether,â€"“ with mills and mill hands come murder, massacre, and moblaw.” And she said it so loud, and with so stern an air of convxction, that the two Misses Briarton. who were of a timorous and fearful nature, dropped their buttered muflins (it was at one of the tea parties which were Slowbridge’s only dissipation), and shuddered hysterically, feeling that their fate was sealed, and that they might, any night, find three mascu- line mill hands secreted under their beds, with bludgeons. But as no massacres took place. and the mill hands were pretty regular in their habits and even went so far as to send their children to Lady Theo 1ald’s free school and accepted the tracks left weekly at their door, whether they could read or not, Slewbrldge gradually recovered from the ‘ shock of finding itself forced to exist in 1 close proximity to mills and was just set- tling itself to sleepâ€"the sleep of the justâ€" again, when, as I have said, it was shaken to s foundations. It was Miss Belinda Bassett who received the first shock. Miss Belinda Bassett was a decorous little maiden lady, who lived in a decorous little house on High street (which was considered a very genteel street in Slowbridge). She had lived in the same house all her life, her father had lived in it. and so also had her grandfather She had gone out, to take tea, from its doors two or three times a week, ever since she had been twenty, and she had had her little tea parties in its front parlor as often as any other genteel Slowbridge entertainer. She had risen at seven, breakfasted at eight, dined at two, taken tea at five, and gone to bed at ten, with such regularity for fifty years, that to rise at eight, breakfast at nine, dine at eleven, would, she was firmly convinced, be but ” to fly in the face of Providence," as she put it, and sign her own death warrant. Consequently, it is easy to imagine what a tremor and excitement seized her when, one afternoon, as she sat waiting for her tea, a coach from the Blue Lion dashedâ€"or, at least almost dashedâ€"up to the front door. a young lady got out, and the next minute the handmaiden, Mary Anne, threw open the door of the parlor. announcing, without the least preface. “ Your niece, mum, from ’Meriker." Miss Belinda got up, feeling that her knees really trembled beneath her. It may as well be explained. however, at the outset, that it would not take much of a sensation to give Slowbridge a great shock. In the first place, Slowbridge was not used to sensations. and was used to going on the even and respectable tenor of its way. re- garding the outside world with private dis- mills had been a trial to Slowbridgeâ€"a sore trial. On being told of the owners’ plan of building them, old Lady Theobald, who was the corner stone of the social edifice of Slowbridge, was said, by a spectator, to have turned deathly pole with rage, and on the first day of their being opened in working order, she had taken to her bed, and re- mained shut up in her darkened room for a week, refusing to see anybody. and even going so far as to send a scathing message to the curate of St. J ames, who called in fear and trembling because he was afraid to stay away. Slowbridge had been shaken m its founda- ions. Curran L-anss ovum mssnn A PAIR BARBARIAN. By Francis Hodgson Burnett. “ My dear,” said Miss Belinda, clutching helplessly at the tea pot, " are youâ€"surely itis aâ€"a little dangerous to wear such-â€" such priceless ornaments on ordinary occa- niou” Miss Belinda saw all this at the first glance, as Mary Anne had seen it, and, like Mary Anne, lost her breath; but, on her second glance she saw something more. On the pretty, slight hands were three wonderful, sparkling rings. composed of diamonds set in clusters; there were great solitaires in the neat'little ears, and the thickly plaited lace at the threat was fastened by a diamond clasp. “Your ‘jewéléJmean, my love." flut- terediMils Belinda. “ Surely you don’t Octavia stared at her for a ' moment, un oomgreheggiingy. A What th material of her niece’s dress was, Miss Belina could not have told. It was a. silken and soft fabric of a pale blue color ; it clung to the slender, lissome young figure like a. glove ; a. fan-like train of great length almost covered the hearthrug ; there were plaitings and frillings all over it. an] yards of delicate satin ribbon cut into loops in the most recklessly extravagant manner. Judge, thefi, of Mist; Belinda Bassett’s condition of mind when her fair relative took her seat before her. There was in Slowbridge but one dress- making establishment. The head of the establishment â€" Miss Letitia Chickie - de- signed the costumes of every woman in Slow- bridge, from Lady Theobald down. There were legends that she received her patterns from London, and modified them to suit the Slowbridge taste. Possibly this was true, but in that case, her labors as modifier must have been severe indeed, since they were so iar modified as to be altogether unrecogniz- able when they left Miss Chickie’s establish- ment and were borne home in triumph to that houses of her patrons. The taste of Slow«l bridge was quiet â€" upon this Slowbridge prided itself especially-and, at the same time. tended toward economy. When gores came into fashion, Slowbridge clung firmly, and with some pride, to substantial breadths, which did not cut silk into useless strips which could not be utilized in after time, and it was only when, after a visit to London, Lady Theobald walked into St. James’s, one Sunday, with two gores on each side, that Miss Chickie regretfully put scissors into her first breadth. Each matronly member of grod society possessed a substantial silk gown of some sober color, which gown, hav. ing done duty at two years’ tea parties, de- scended to the grade of “ second best,” and so descended year by year, until it disap- peared in the dim distance of the past. The young ladies had their white muslins and natural flowers, which latter decorations in variably collapsed in the course of the even- ing, and were worn during the latter half of any festive occasion in a flabby and hopeless condition. Miss Chickie made the muslins. festooning and adorning them after designs ‘ emanating from her fertile imagination. If they were a little short in the body and not very generously proportioned in the matter of train, there was no rival establishment to sneer, and Miss Chickie had it all her own way ; and, at least, it could never be said that Slowbridge was vulgar or overdressed. In the course of half an hour everything was in readiness, and than Mary Anne, who had been sent upstairs to announce the fact, came down in amost remarkable state of delighted agitation, auppresqed ecstasy and amazement exclaiming aloud in every feature. “ Toast some muffins, Mary Anne, and bring in the cold roast. fowl," she said. “ And I will put out some strawberry jam, and some of the preserved ginger. Dearmel J net to think how fond of preserved ginger poor Martin was. and how little of it he was allowed to eat! There really seems a. special Providence in my having such a. nice stock of it in the house when his daughter comes home. “ She’s dressed, mum," she announced, “an’ ’11 be down immediate,” and retired to a shadowy corner of the kitchen passage, that she might lie in wait unobserved. Miss Belinda, sitting behind the tea. ser- vice, heard a. soft,flowing, silken rustle sweep- ing down the staircase and across the hall, and then her niece entered. “ Don’t you think I’ve dressed pretty quick?” she said. and swept across the little parlor and sat down in her place, with the calmest and most unconscious air in the world. Down stairs, Miss Belinda was wavering between the kitchen and the parlor. in a kindly flutter. “It is a queer, nice little place.” she said. “ But I don’t Wonder that pa emi grated, if they always get into such a. flurry about little things. I might have been a ghost." â€" Then she proceeded to unlock the big trunk and attire herself. The fact was that she could not see why the simple advent of a, relative from Nevada. should seem to have the effect of an earth‘ quake, and result in tremor, confusion and tears. It was true she herself had shed a tear orso, but then her troubles had been accu- mulating for several days ; and she had not felt confused yet. When Miss Belinda. went down stairs to superintend Mary Anna in the tea making, and left her gueet alone, that young person glanced about her with a. rather dubious expression. She left her chair in a great hurry, and proceeded to embrace her young guest. ten- derly, though with a. little timorousness. The young lady submitted to the caress with mucll eqmgosure. “ What am I thinking of,” she exclaimed. remorsefully, “ To let you sit here in tlns way? Pray excuse me, my dear. You see I am so upset.” “ Did AI upset you ‘2” She inquired, calgly._ But she finally recovered herself, with a. little start. “ 0h, he’ll come back again !” she said. “And he doesn’t mind the journey. The journey is nothing. you knew." Octavia’s eyes opened a shade wider. “ We have made the tnp to the States, across the Isthmus, twelve times. and that takes a thumb,” she remarked. “ So we don't think ten days much.” “ Twelve times i” said Miss Belinda, quite appalled. “ Dear, dear, dear I” And for some moments she could do nothing but look at her young relatlve in doubtful wonder, shaking her head with actual sadness. “ He said you were,” answered Octavia, “ and he was very fond of you, too. He didn’t wriie to you. because he made up his mind not to let you hear from him until he was a rich man, and then he thought he would wait until he could come home. and surprise you. He was awfully disappointed when he had to go back without seeing you.” “ Poor, dear Martin.” wept Miss Belinda, gegtly. ‘ “ Such fivjoumey 1 ’_’ _ Ociavia opened liar chirming eyes in lur prise: ‘ ‘ I hope you will excuse my being too start- led to say I was glad to see you,” she said “ I have not seen my brother for thirty years, and I was very fond of him.” The natural result of these efforts was that Miss Belinda. was removed to shed a few tears. It did not seem to have occurred to her once that her identity might be doubted, and some sliuht obstacles arise before her. “ I am afraid," faltered Miss Belinda, that five of them will have to be put in the attic." And in fifteen minutes, five of them were put into the attic, and the sixthâ€"the biggest of all stood in the trim little square chamber. and pretty Miss Octavia. had sunk into a puffy little chime-covered easy chair, while her newly found relative stood before her, making the moat laudable efforts to recover her equil- ibrium. and not to feel as if her head was spinning round and round. “ m mvnamnmm, ANY WAY." Gnnmn II‘ â€"-There are a dozen opium smoking dent in Virginia City. Nam, and young six-1| put- ronize them. -â€"â€"Adironduck Murray is in Texas, looking over the State in the interest of ranching. grazing and colonizing enterprises, out of which he expects to make the fortune which neither the pulpit nor nuckboards yielded him. â€"When the celebrated Italian embslmer, Paolo Corini, died in Lodi not long ago, in great poverty, the state showed its apprecia- tion of the fitness of things by giving him a magnificent funeral. â€"The fault that scholars will be most likely to find with the new Worcester’s Dic- tionary is that into it has been admitted, though under cover of an apology, a consider- able number of slang words, which cannot, even on sufierance, be accepted as a part of the language. “ Blizzard," “ bonanza," " boss,” “ bulldoze,” “ boom," “ corner,” “ crank " and the like may in time come to be accepted by good writers and speakers. Not less distasteful is the appearanceâ€"though the compilers are not wholly to blameâ€"of the monstrous words of Greek and Latin or other foreign extractions for which we have admirably simple equivalents in our own good Saxon. Thus from the Greek we have “ achromstopsy ” in place of “ color-blind ;” from the Latin “ adnubilated " for “clouded,” and from the French “ acierage ” for “ steelv ‘ ing.” Except humorously and derisively. the use of words of this aumbroul sort is simply unpardonahle. L r t A young fellow about nineteen, who is going with his first girl. has got the symp- toms awfully. He justs thinks of nothing else but his girl, and when he can be with her, which is seldom, on account of the old folks, he is there, and when he cannot be there he is there or thereabouts. in his mind. He had been trying for three months to think of something to give his girl for a present, but he couldn’t make up his mind what article would cause her to think of him the most, so he unbosmomed himself to his employer, and asked his advice as to the proper article to 1 give. The old man is baldheaded and mean. “ You want to give her something that will be a Constant reminder of you? ” “ Yes,” he said, “ that. was what was the matter.” - “ Does she have any corns ? " asked the old wretch. The boy said he had never in- , quired into the condition of her feet, and , wanted to know what some had to do with , it. The old man said if she had come a pair of shoes about two sizes too small would cause her'mind to dwell on him a good deal. The boy said shoes wouldn’t do. The old man hesitated a moment. scratched his head, and finally said, “ I have itl l sup- ‘ pose, sir, when you are alone with her in the ' parlor, that you put your arm around her waist ; do you not, sir ? ” The young man , blushed and said that was about the size of it. “ I presume she enjoys that part of the discourse. eh ?" The boy said that as near as he could tell, by the way she acted, she was not op osed to being held up. “ Then. sir. I can ell you of an article that will , make her think of you in that position all the time, from the moment she gets up in the , morning till she retires.” " Is there any at- ; tachment to it that will make her dream of me all night?" asked the boy. “No, sir. Don’t be a hog,” said the bad man. “ Then what is it 7" The old man said one word, “ Corset.” The young man was delighted, , and he went to a shop to buy acorset. “ What size do you want ?” asked the girl who waited on him. That was a puzzler. He didn’t , know they came in sizes. He was about to tell her to pick out the smallest size, when he i happened to think of something. “ Take a‘ tape measure and measure my arm. That will just fit.” The girl looked wise, as though she had been there herself, and found that it was a twenty-two inch corset the boy wanted, and he went home and wrote a note and sent it with the corset to his girl. He didn’t hear anything about it till the following Sunday, when he called on her. She received him coldly, and handed him the corset, saying with a tear in her eye, that she had never expected to be insulted by him. He told her he had no in- tention of insulting her, that he could think of nothing that would cause her to think of the gentle pressure of his arms around her waist as a corset, but if she felt insulted he would take his leave. give the corset to some poor family, and go drown l.imself, He was about to go away when she burst out crying, and sobbed on his shoulder the following words, wet with salt brine: “ It was v v-very thoughtful of y-you, but I couldn’t f-f-feel it. It is fAf-four sizes too b-b bigl Why didn’t you get number eighteen? You are silent, you cannot answer, enough." They instinct- ively found their way to the sofa, mutual ex- planations followed, he measured her waist again, saw where he had made a mistake by [his fingers lapping over on the first turn, and , he VOWed by the beard of the prophet he would ,change it for another, if she had not worn it and got it soiled. They are better friends now.â€"-American Traveler. “ He took me with him wherever he went,” she proofieded. ” And we had a. teacher from the States, who traveled with us sometimel. He never sent me away from him, I wouldn‘t have gone if he had wanted to send me-and he didn‘t want to.” she added, with a satisfied little laugh. “ American girls always have more things than English girls," she observed, with admirable coolness. “ They dress more. I have been told so by girls who have been in Europe. And I have more things than most American girls. Father had more money than most people , that was one reason, and be spoiled me, I suppose. He had no one else to give things to, and he said I should have everything I took a fancy to. He often laughed at me for buying things, but he never said I shouldn't buy them.” Octavia scarcely entered into the spirit of this mournful sympathy. She was fond of her father, but her recollections of him were not pathetic or sentimental. “ Help yburself to some fowl, my ear," she said, hospitably, even though very imly indeed, “ and take a muffin." Octavia did so. her over-splendid hands flashing in; the lrigihtKas she_moved than}, “ He was Valways generous,” sighed M155 Belinda. “ Poor, dear Martin 1" The utter calmness and freedom frem em- barrassment with which these announcements were made almost shook Miss Belinde’siaith in her own identity. Strange to say. until this moment she had scarcely given a. thought to her brother’s wife. and to find herself sit- ting in her own genteel little parlor. behind her own tea. service, With her hand upon her own tea pot, hearing that this wife had been a young person who had been a. “ great favorite” upon the stage. in a region Dec pled, as she had been led to suppose, by gold- diggers and escaped convicts, was almost too mueh for her to support herself under. But she did support herself bravely, when she had time to rally. And she looked puzzled for a moment again. Then she glanced down at her rings. ” Ineerly always wear these," she re. marked. “ Father gave them to me. He {:we me one each bilthday for three years. He says diamonds are an investment any way. and I might as well have them. These," touching the ear rings and clasp. “ were given to my mother, when she was on the stage. A lot of people clubbed together and bought them for her. She was a. great favorite." Miss Belinda made another clutch at the handle of the tea pot. “ Your mother !" she exclaimed, faintly. “ 0n theâ€"«did you any on theâ€"" “ Stage,” answered Octavia. “ San Fran- cisco. Father married her there. She was awfully pretty. I don't remember her. She died when I was born. She was only nineteen." wear them often. I declare it quite fright- ens me to think of having such thingl in ‘ the house." 5 “Does it ?" said Octavia. ”That’- queerz“ , A THOUGHTFUL LOVER [TO BE CONTINUEDJ mature. ” I has bin axed (ur my views on de sub- jeck of theater-goin',” said the president as he rose up to dismiss the meetin‘. “ Per- haps at our nex’ meetin’ I shall be prepar'd to submit my views an‘ express myindividual opinion. We will now disburse ourselvu boulevard.” ' A}? de birgrfifinrkléiirfan he am showin' his hand De mud’s growin’ deeper, An’ thunder's a comin’. An' de possumrc'omieé out of his log fur to 500 De warm min’s a. fallin’, De_ wring qqlf am lngliu', De voice of déibliggijgy am heard in do land De wild ducks am flyiu’ Dq gquqr}; a‘an gighm’ De robin am chirpiu' Dg‘bluejbirq am_n_ingi_n’ THE GLEE CLUB. The glee club then turned up and sung and played the following so beautifully thatg the hull clock stopped dead still at five minutes to 10: “ I doan’ believe a duel were eber fout wid- out one party knowin’ dat he was wrong,” continued the president. “I also believe dat a man will shed blood sooner for what he feels ar’ wrong den fur what he knows am right. In dis ease you want to fight ober nofiin. If one war’ dead de adder wouldn’ be any mo' ugh: dan he am now. \Killin' a. man proves nofl‘in in argyment. Now, I want to remark dat if I h’ar any mo’ ’bout dis fool- ishness I shall wait upon you, Kernul. an’ make your heels break your neck ; an’ as fur de judge, I’ll drap him ober some high fence mto a slush-puddle." “ Deb what would either of you gain f” They hung their heads without making any _reply. 7 “Nufiin. Bah.” “ Au’ what do you know, Judge 1’" " Nuflin." “ Disputin’ ober nufiin, an’ yet mad nufi to kill! Kemul, if you should kill do judge would dab gib Shakspeare a Roman nose ?” “No. Bah." “ Judge if you should kill the keruul would it gib Shakspeare a Greahun proboscis ?“ “ No, Huh." The Colonel and the Judge made their apâ€" pearance on the floor. “ Now, den, I under- stan’ dat de Kernul made de remark dat Shakspeare had a. Roman nose, an’ de Judge held dat sich was not the case. De dispute waxed hotter au’ hotter, until de lie was pas- sed, an’ now now you banker fur gore. Now Ker-nu], what do you know about Shakspeare‘s nose T” 7‘ Will de parties named please Step for’d ?" agked Brother Gardner as he arose. BRIDGING THE GULF. The Committee on Harmony reported that they had investigated the matter of difference between 001. Darius Shingleton and Judge Gonedown Brass. both local members, but were unable to briage the gulf between them. The Colonel had sent the Judge ti challenge, which had been accepted, and a deadly meet- ing between the two was imminent. Colonel-Schakee Jackson, for abgééllng a case from a justice‘s court to the circuit court. Auanias Ruggles. for refusing to act on coppqer’a jqry with three old bummers. Amos Hastings, for inventing a tack-ham- mar with I; looking glass in the handle. No wife will hereafter ask her husband to tack down a rem-pet. An" de White-washihfiééson has opened fur ma 4. The case of George Washington Defoe, who descended into a. well 88 feet deep to rescue a man who had just cheated him blind on a mule trade, and who refused a reward of fifteen cents for his noble eflorts. This case, in the opinion of the committee, was the most deserving, and on the question be ing put, the club Wm! unanimous in voting the prize to Mr. Defoe. The prize consisted of a silver-plated tobacco-box. with a compass in the lid, and the secretary was instructed to mail it to the hero forthwith. 5mm Bus-TRAP. The following local members will have seat. nearest the bear-Imp for the coming six month 3 for the following reasons : 3. The case of Elder Theopholis Smith, of Georgia, who plunged into a. raging flood to rescue a boy 10 years old. It had been asâ€" serted that he did not pillage in until the boy’ a father had ofiered a reward of $100 and the committee could not come to any conclu- sion. V 2. The ease of Gen. Pompeii Jones, who put a string around a. mad dog’s neck and led him into a suburb of St. Louis. It had been charged that the General did not know the dog was mad, and picked him up with the intention of being a dog ahead. 1. The case of Harrison Dayball Carter, of Tennessee, who plunged into a burning build- ing and brought out a baby in one hand and a. gallon jug of whiskey in the other. It. could not be definitelv ascertained whether the jug or the baby incited Mr. Carter to his heroic act. ELECTION. The Glee Club struck up the happy air of Old Uncle Ned. and Sir Isaac trotted the bean~box around to the bent-fit of the follow- ing candidates: Welfare Smith, Baldy Mar- tin. Uheapness Wright. Big Foot Wheeler. Razor Fisher. Lafayette Growse, William Simpson, Shoutwell Johnson, Cowboy Jones, Rev. Bingham, Col. Urook, Elder Shubee and Lient. Thomas. “ In em de belief of a man who has put in sixty-two y’ars of life on dis planet dac in am wuss to be too good dun it am to be too wicked. but do too good can’t be cotched. My sort of a good man am one who respect de church but am not car‘d away wid it, who will give dollars to his poor nnyburs but not a cent to de heathen. who neber lees do need of reform widout reformin’ his own habits to begin wid, who borrows money in a business way an’ lends money on de same plan, who speaks well of religion, but who hates de hypocrite Gin me a. man who pays his debts, spesks de truf in his dealing, lets whisky alone, uses his family right and takes (19 side of de old an’ poor. and de young an’ week in do battle of life, an’ I doan keer what his religious faith am, or whether he has anv at all. He's de man to tie to, an' if he doan’ reach heaben all adder sons 0‘ men will stan’ a. mighty slim show.” PETITIONS. The petitions numbered twenty-one, repre- senting seven diflurent States. Seven elders and two reverends came along in the batch. as also an ex-member of the South Carolina Legislature. oua conoam) names. The president announced that it was time to bestow the semi annual prise offered by the club for the greatest display of heroism by any colored man in North America, and he called for the report of the committee. Way- dowu Bebee, chairman of said committee. re- ported that he had several cases to mention, as follows : “ Doan’ be too good," said the old men, as he crossed his hands under his coat tails. “ I advise you to be good, but not goody-Hood. When a man reaches a sartin line of goodness he will have de respect en’ esteem of all who meet him ; orluns will bless him an’ widders will pray for him. When he crosses ober that line he will pray for de poe’ Wid one hand un‘ lend money at fifteen per cent. wid de odder. He will shed tears fur his naybur’s woes, but leave six inches of snow on his sidewalk fur de public to wade frew. His chin will quiver when he speaks of de 1900’ heathen in Africa, but his own boys will play base ball in de alley on Sunday. He will weep oher de need of more orfun asylums, but he won’t put down a shillin‘ in money. He will talk charity by do hour, and charge a boy fif‘y cents for breakin’ a two shillin’ pane of glass. I doan’ want nuflin’ to do wid u too good man. When I know a man to be wicked I know how to take him. When I know him to be a goody goody man my own safety am to let him alone. When you meet a men who am distressed ober de gineral wickedness of de world dosn’ you lend him any money widout good security. When you meet a man who says ‘ ah‘ an’ ‘ um,’ an’tubs his hands together, an’ rolls up his eyes, doan’ challenge him to trade horses. Find me a man who weeps bekase de world hain’t better an’ I will show you a man who makes his own home unhappy. TEE LIME-KILN CLUB.