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" But how should we learn? We none of us know Lord Lanudowne, or even the mug“ I think he in only a. second or “It seems rather singular to my mind that we should not have known of this before." “Did Mr. Burmiatone give you this in- formation ?" asked Lady Theobald, with ironic calmness. Mrs. Burnham colored ever so taintly. " Iâ€"that is to soyâ€"there is a sort of ac- quaintance between one of my maids and the butler at the Burmistone place, and when the girl was doing Lydia’a hair, she told her the story. Lord Lanedowne and his father are quite fond of Mr. Burmia- tone, it is said." “But,” put in Mrs. Burnham. rather eagerly,“.it appears that Mr. Burmistone is not such an obscure person, after all. He is an Oxford men, and came off with honors ; he is quite a well-born man, and 'ves this entertainment in honor of his riend and relation, Lord Lanadowne.” “Lord Lunsdownel" echoed her lady- Bhip, sternly._ "-Son of ' the Marquis of Lnuderdale, whoaq wife was Lady Honoxjo Errollff “I have heard before," announced my lady, “ of men of Mr. Burmistone’s class He- curing the services of persons of established position in society when they wished to spend their money upon entertainments, but I should scarcely have imagined that Francis Burold would have allowed him- self to be made aparty tosuch a. trans- action." It Mrs, Burnham had expected any ex- planation of her ladyshlp's evident dis- pleasure. she was doomed to disappoint- ment. That excellent and rigiorous gentle- woman had a stern sense of dignity, which lorbade her condescending to the confi- dential weakness of mere ordinary mortals. Instead of referring to Lucia, she broached a more commonplace topic. _ “ It“ is no-one in Slowbridge,” replied this lady, cheerfully. “ Some one who lives a little out of Slowbridgeâ€"Mr. Burmistone, my dear, Lady Theobald, at his new place.” “ Mr. Burmistone l" “ Yes, my dear. and a. most charming nlfmr it is to be, it we are to believe all we hear. Surely you have heard something of it from Mr, Barold ?" “ Mr. Burold has not been to Oldolough for Layers! daygz’fl __ “ Then he 6i“ tell you when he comes, for I suppose he has as much to do with 1t as Mr. Burmiatone." “37Gb?” said my lady, with majesty, and having hidden Mrs. Burnham good-morn- ing! Iiarucuiwent». “I hope yofir rhefimetism does not threaten you again, Mrs. Burnham," she remarked. " I am very well, thank you, my dear," laid Mrs. Burnham,“so well, that I am thinking quite seriously of taking the dent gig: to the garden-party, when it comes 0 . “ Miss Octavia Basaett,” said my lady, aonorouely, " has come from Nevada to tench our young people a. great many things â€"new fashions in duty, and demeanor, and respect for their elders. Let us hope they will be benefited.“ “ If you will excuse me, grandmamms," Enid Lucia, speaking in a soft, steady voice, “ I will go and write the letters you wished written.” “ To the garden-party I" repeated her ladyahip. “ May I ask who thinks of giv- ing 2 ggrden-party _in Snlpwlgrigge ?.’_’ “ My dear Lady Theobald,” cried her visitor. rising, "I hope you are well. I have just been complimenting Lucia upon her pretty dress and her new style of dress- ing her hair. Miss Octavia Bassett has been giving her the benefit 0! her experi- ence. it appears. We have not been doing he: justice. Who would have believed that she had come from Nevada to ingprove 315‘?” “ f am not sure thatâ€"â€"" Lao-in was begin- ning, when her ladyship interrupted he: by «mugging.~ ,. r -- _. ..... .1. “ I did not think Octavia’s dresses would seem over-trimmed if she wore them in London or Paris,” said Lucia. bravley. “ It is only because we are so very quiet. and dress so little in Slowbridge, that they seem so. “ And your hair !" remarked Mrs. Burn- ham. “ You drew your idea. of that from some style of hers. I suppose. Very be- coming indeed. Well, well! And how does Lady Theobald like all this, my dear ‘I" ‘ And though this was something of an exaggeration, there was some excuse for the exclamation. Lucia. was looking very charming, and several changes might be noted in her attire and appearance. The ugly twist had disappeared from her delicate head, and in its place were soft, loose waves and light pnfie ; she had even ventured on allowing a few ringed locks to stray on to her forehead ; her white morning-dress no longer wore the trade-mark of Miss Chickie, but had been remodeled by some one of more taste. “ What a pretty gown, my dear !" said Mrs. Burnham, glancing at it curiously. “ A Watteau plait down the backâ€"isn’t it a. Wutteau pinit ?-â€"and little ruffles down the front, and pale pink bows. It is quite like some of Miss Octavia Basstt's dresses, only_n_qt_ so over-trimmed." .. ‘1 CHAPTER XXI. LORD LANDSDOWNE. One morning in the following week, Mrs. Burnhem attired herself in her second-best black silk, and, leaving the Misses Burnham practising diligently, turned her steps to- ward Oldolough Hall. Arriving there, she was ushered into the blue drawingroom by Dobson, in his character of footmsn, and in : _few mining! Lucia. appeared. “ Why, fly dear," she Enid, as she shook handle, “I should scarcely have known 37°?" _ .. per year. While she would beat the name which his nobility confers. The_ba.x_1k_ agcount, as heretofore, would still be fivkept in hers. ' An heiress who will titles estimate 50 very low Deserves to finally become plain Mrs. So-and’so‘ When Mrs. Burnham ‘s‘aw her, she as. sume_d_n slight_ air 9t purprjga. AN AMERICAN GIRL. Each heart has its moments of pleasure and pain Than follow the ebb and the flow; Each soul has its portion of sunshine and rain. Hope dawnings and sunsets of Woe. . But ninja ’re few other evils to which flesh 1s eu‘ That with sorrow our joy can so fleck, _ And fill our whole being with so much despair, As a boil on the back of the neck. A man's wife may tell him in tones low end "not Her mother is coming to stay, He may trend 9. banana. pee] down in the street And swear in a. dignified way. Somebody may walk on his favorite corn, He may foolishly cash a. snide check, But £111: one thing that makes him regret he was om Is a boil on the back of the neck. While there would be no limit to the title he would bring. He soon discovered all her gold was anchored to a. string. Thedtitle of " The Princess,” which nobility holds car, She wished him to bestow for just a. paltry sum The brooklet e‘en sings in a. sad undertone, The skies are all clouded with care, And nature's voice echoes a, ssddening moan, The breezes come lreighted with care. The future is naught but a desert of night, The present a. miserable wreck. Without even just one faint spark of delight, For the man with a. boil on his neck. Negotiations now have ceased, the game is called a draw. Miss Caldwell with her millions failed to capture Prince Murat. He brppghh to her a. title of distinction to be 7 sold,“ ' ' She wgg to buy the bauble and to pay for it in go . A Boll on the Back of the Neck. Cupid’s Commercial Failure. 7‘ If I had been clever,” Lucia. said sum to Mr BurmIatone,â€"" it I had been clever, It had been Lady Theobald’s habit to to treat Lucia severely from a sense of duty. Her manner towards her had always rather the tone of implying that she was naturally at fault, and yet her ladyship could not have told wherein she wished the girl changed. In the good old school in which my lady had been trained, it was customary to regard young people as weak, foolish, and, if left to their own desires, frequently sinful. Lucia had not been left to own her desires. She had been taught to View herself, as rather a bad case, and to feel that she was far from being what her relatives had a right to expect. To be thrown with a person who did not find her silly, or dull, or commonplace, was a new experience. “I don’t mind at all," said Lucia, blushingly brilliantly. “I rather like it. It rewards me for my industry. My hair is dressed in a. new way. I hope you like that, too. Grungmnmma doeq yotz” “ Do you mind me telling you that you have put on an enchanted garment," said Mr. Burmistone, the first (aim they met when she wore one of the old-new gpwns. ” I thought I knew before lho‘wâ€"â€".” Perhaps, when she had dressed her hair and adorned herself with pale pink bows, and like appurtenances, this artful young person had privately in mind other behold- ers than Mrs. Burnham, and other com- mendation than that to be bestowed by that most excellent matron. “It is odd that I am such a different girl Whenâ€"when I am with you," she said to him, one day. “ I‘evengmake little jokes. I should never thinkot making even the tiniest joke before grandmsmms. Somehow, she never seems quite to understand jokes. She never laughs at them. You always laugh, and I am sure it is very kind of you to en- courage me so; but you must nor encourage me too much. or I might forget, and make a. little joke at dinner, and I think, if I did, she would choke over_her soup.”< And if this had been the case in those early days. imagine what she felt now, Whamâ€"ah, well lâ€"â€"when her friendship had had time and opportunity to become a much deeper sentiment. Must it he confessed that she had seen Mr. Burmistone even oftener than Octavia and Miss Belinda knew of? Of course it had all been quite accidental ; but it had happened that now and then, when she had been taking a quiet walk in the lanes about Oldclough, she had encountered a gentleman, who had dis- mounted, and led his horse by the bridle. as he sauntered by her side. She had always been very timid at such times and had felt rather like a criminal ; but Mr. Burmi- stone had not been timid at all, and would, indeed, as soon have met Lady Theobald as not, for which courage his companion ad- mired him more than ever. It was not very long before to be with this here re-as- sured her, and made her feel stronger and more self-reliant. She was never afraid to open her soit little heart to him, and show him innocently all its goodness and igor- anoe of worldliness. She warmed and brightened under his kindly influence, and was often surprised in secret at her own simples readiness of wit and speech: “YOU HAVE MADE 11' LIVELIEB.” When she had become Mr. Burmietone‘s champion indeed! She could scarcely have told when, unless, perhaps, she had fixed the. W‘ the first time she heard his name introduced at a high tea, with every politely opprobrious ephitet afl'ixed. She had defended him in her own mind then, and felt sure that he deserved very little that was said against him, and very likely nothing at all. And the first time she had seen and spoken to him, she had been con- vinced that she had not made a mistake, and that he had been treated with cruel injustice. How kind he was, how manly, how clever, and how well he bore himself under the popular adverse criticism! She only wondered that anybody could be so Blind, and stupid, and wilful as to assail 1m. Lady Theobald did not disclaim the privilege. She felt the sentiment an ex- tremely correct one. But she was not very warm in her manner during the remainder of the call. and, incongruous as such a state- ment may appear, it must he confessed that she felt that Miss Octavia Bassett must have something to do with these defections on all sides, and that garden-parties, and all such swervings from established Slowbridge custom, were the natural result of Nevada frivolity and freedom of manners. It may be that she felt remotely that even Lord Lansdowne and the Marquis of Lauderduie were to be referred to the same reprehen- sible cause, and that, but for Octavia Bas- sett, Mr. Burmiatone would not have been educated at Oxford and have some off with honors, and have turned out to be related to respectable people, but would have re- mained in appropriate obscurity. third cousin. We are littleâ€"just a little-â€" set in Slowbridge, you know, my dearâ€"at leagfi I hn._ve thogght__so, somgmmes latply," “ I suppose,” she said, afterwards, to Lucia, “ that your friend Miss Octavia Bas- sett is in Mr. Burmistone’e confidence, if no one else has been permitted to have that honor. I have no doubt she has known of this approaching entertainmont for some weeks.“ ” Beg pardon,” he interrupted, fixing his single glues dexterouely in his right eye, and gazing at her ladyehip through it. “ Can’t see why Lensdowne should object. Fact is, he is a great deal tender of Burmietone than relations usually are of each other. Now I often find that kind of thing a bore, but Lanedowne doesn’t seem so. They were at school together, it seems, and at Oxford, too, and Burmietone is supposed to have beheved pretty well towards Lans- downe at one time, when he was rather a wild fellowâ€"40 the father and mother say. As to Burmietone ' causing it to simulated,” that sort of thing is rather absurd. The man isn’t a. cad, you know.” “That he was Lord Lansdowne’s second cousin, and knew the Marquis of Lnuderdnle, grandmamma ‘2” broke in Lucia, with very pretty spirit. “Would that have prepossessed you in his favor? Would you have forgiven him for building the mills, on Lord Lanadowne’s account? Iâ€"I wish I was related to a. marquis," which was very bold indeed. “May I ESE,” said her ladyehip, in her most monuments] manner,“when you be- came Mr. Burmistone's champion ?" “Imust confevss,” rémarked my Ina-y, “that Ihave not regarded the matter in that}jght._" “I do not know, grandmamma," replied Lucia, putting her letters together, and gaining color as she bent over them. She was wondering, with inward trepiaation, what her ladyship would say if she knew the whole truthâ€"if she knew that it was her grand-daughter, not Octavia. Bassett, who enjoyed Mr. Burmistone’s confidence. The same day Francis Barold sauntered up to pay them a visit, and then, as Mrs. Burnham had prophesied, Lady Theobald heard all she wished to hear, and, indeed, a great deal more: “ What is this I am told of Mr. Burmi- atone, Francis?” she inquired. “ That he intends to give a garden-purty, and that Lord Lanadowne is to be one of the guests, and that he has caused it to be circulated that they are cousins." “It is scarcely likely that Lord Lana downeâ€"â€"-" “Pray don’t say ' you know,’ Francis,” said her ladyahip. “ I know very little but what I have chanced to see, and I must confess I have not been prerossesaed in Mr. Burmistone’s favor. Why did he not choose to inform 113â€".” “ Thvnt is because you have a. better right toâ€"to be a little set than the rest of usl” V3735!th gmjgblg ygsponse. “ Thaé Lansdowne has cause it to be cir- culatedâ€"or Burmisbone ‘2" “Ah:”'ahe thought,”how could I ever dare to tell her?” CHAPTER XXII. “If she had been well brought up,” he said, “she would have been a. difierent creature." “ Vary different, I have no doubt," said Barmistpne, thoughtfully. "When you I In fact, he was very savage indeed. He , felt that he had condseoended a good deal lately. He seldom bestowed his time on women, and when he did so, at rare inter- vals, he chose those who would do the most honor to his taste at the least cost of trouble. And he was obliged to confess to himself that he had broken his rule in this case. Upon analyzing his motives and necessities, he found that, after all, he must have extended his visit simply because he chose to see more of this young woman from Nevada. and that really, upon the whole, he had borne a good deal tram her. Sometimes he had been much, pleased with her, and very well entertained; but often enoughâ€"â€"in fact rather too oftenâ€" she had made him exceedingly uncomfort- able. Her manners were not what he was accustomed to; she did not onsider that all men were not to be regar ed from the same point of view. Perhaps he did not put into definite words the noble and pat- riotic sentiment that an Englishman was not to be regarded from the same point of view as an American, and that though all this sort of thing might do with fellows in New York, it was scarcely what an! Englishman would stand, Perhaps, as I say, he had not put this sentiment into words ; but it is quite certain that it had i been uppermost in his mind upon moral occasions than one. As he thought their: acquaintance over, this evening, he was‘ rather severe upon Octavia. He even roused so far as to condescend to talk her over with Burmistone. He went home in such bad humor that his host, who was rather happier than usual, commented upon his grave aspect at dinner. “0h, nothing!" he was answered, sar- donically; “nothing whatever~unless that I have been rather snubbed by a young lady from Nevadg.’_‘ “ Ah 1 " with great seriousness ; " that’s rather cool, isn't it ?" “ his her little way,” said Burold. “ It seems to be one of the customs of Nevada.” “Oh 1” she answered, “it's true, If it wasn’t, I shouldn‘t say it. You, and Mr. Burmistone, and Mr. Poppleton have cer- taigly made it livelier." “You look on it you had heard in news, old f_e}low,"_h_e sagigi._ “ What’s up." _ They wefe minding fiear a rosebush, in the garden, 5nd she plucked a rose. and re- gnrd_efl _i_tAyvit_h deeg interest. 7 “Well.” she said, next, “Imust sayI think I shouldn't have had such a. good time if you hadn’t been here. You have made it livelier.” l“ Am I one o 'the reet’ " he enquired. the first time he found himself alone with her. He was sufficiently piqued to forget his usual hateur and discretion. “ Would you like to be ‘2 ” she said. “ Oh I very muchâ€"very muchâ€"natur- allzx" he replied, Beyerely. “Thu-Inks,” he remarked. “You are most kind." When the garden-party rumor began to take definite form, and there was no doubt as to Mr. Burmietone’e intentions, a discus- sion arose at once, and went on in every genteel parlor. Would Lady Theobald allow Lucia. to go, and if she did not allow her, would not such a. course appear very pointed indeed ? It was universally decided that it would appear pointed, but that Lady Theobald would not mind that in the least,nnd perhaps would rather enjoy it than otherwise, and it was thought Lucia would have remained at home.if it had not been for the influence of Mr. Francis Barold. “If you had been a. boy.” replied Mr. Burmiatone, rather grimly, “ and had squandered her money, and run into debt, and bullied her, you would have been her idol, and she would have pinched and starved hereelf to supply your highnees’s extravagance." U “ I shnll be sorry to leave you ; and Aunt Belinda is going with us. You don’t expect me to be fond of Slowbtidge, do you. and to be sorry I can’t take Mrs. Burnhum -â€"â€"and the rest ?” Btu-old was present when she made this speeqh. a._nd it rathgr rank‘lgd." . perhaps grandmamma would haNe been more satisfied with me. I hnve often wished I had been clever." Making a call at Oldolough, he found his august relative in a. very majestic mood, and she applied to him again for inform- ntion. “Perhaps,” she said, “ you may be nble to tell me whither it is true that Miss Belinda Bassettâ€"Belinda Bassett," with emphasis. " has been invited by Mr. Bur- mistona to assist him to receive his guests." “ Slowbridge is changing, mam,” said Miss Chickie with brilliant sarcasm. “ Our ladies are led in their fashions by a Nevada. young person. We’rs improving most rapid â€"more rapid than I’d ever have dared to hope. Do you prefer a full or flounoe, mem ‘? " fibretvevia was in grout good spirits at the prospect of the geyetian in (inaction: 51:0 ha been In remarks.ny good epirxts for some weeks. She had received letters from Nevada, containing good new, she said. Shares had gone up again, and her father had almost settled his affairs, and it would not be long before he would come to England. She looked so exhilarath over the matter, that Lucie felt a. little aggrigyed. V703 Will you be glad to leave us, Octavia ?” she asked. “ We shall not be glad to let you _go. _ W_e {lave grown. veg-y fond of you): “ Yes, it is true,” was the reply ; “ I think I advised 1t myself. Burmistone is fond of her. They are great friends. Man needs a. woman at such times.” “And he chose Belinda Bassett? " “ In the first place, he is on friendly terms with her, as I said before,” replied Bax-old; “in the second, she’s just what he wants,â€"â€"well-bred, kind-hearted. not likely to make rows, et casters.” There was a slight pause before he finished, adding quietly : “ He’s no't a man to submit to be- ing refusedâ€"Burmistgne.” Naturally, Mr. Burmistone’s fete caused great excitement. Miss Chiokie was never BO busy in her life, and there were rumors that her feelings had been outraged by the discovery that Mrs. Burnham had sent to Harriford for costumes for her daughters. “ But th‘ere may be reasonaâ€"â€",” began her lgdyslgip. “She has not spoken a. word to me about it, but she has accepted them,” said Lucia. “ I don’t quite understand her lately, Octavia. She must be very fond of Francis Barold.. He never gives way to her in the least, and she always seems to submit to him. I know she would not have let me go, if he had not insisted on it, in that taking-it-for-granied way of his.” Lady Theobald did not reply, or raise her eyes from her work ; she knew he was looking at her with calm fixedness, through the glass he held in its place so cleverly ; and she detested this more than anything else; perhaps because she was invariably quelled by it, and found she had nothing to any. He did not address her sgain,immedi- ately, but turned to Lucia, drooping the eyeglasses, and resuming his normal con dition. “ You will go, of course ? ” he said. Lucia glanced across at my lady. ” Iâ€"do not know. Gmndmsmmaâ€"â€". “0h!” interposed Burold, “you must go. There is no reason for your refusing the invitationâ€"unless you wish to imply something unpleasantâ€"which is, of course, out: of the question." 1| “Burmiatone is my friend,” put in Barold, in his coolest tone. “Andlnm your relative, which would make my position in his house a delicate one, if he has offended you.” When Lucia saw Octavia. again, she was able to tell her that they had received invitations to the fate, and that Lady Theobald had accepted them.‘ â€"-The ' 11 who does not find advertising pgtffitable erauy finds business unprofit- u 99 g The smallest Bepiibuc in the World. ,Probably the smallest republic in the world is the one whioh declareditsinde- pendenoe onn‘duguet 1 th, at Frano'eyille, one of the jelende of teNevy Hebrides, and elected M, Cheyillierd its President. The inhabitants gonsist of 4.0 Europeans (in- cluding a eolitery Engllehmen, a mission- ary) and 500 111er workmen employed by a French company. The new flag of the republic having been duly hoisted, the French gunboat Boone landed adetach- ment and Saluted the flag. Yes, “ the world do move," alter ell. Those who were present at the meeting of thew. C. '1‘. U. in the Baptist church one afternoon last week witnessed asight which was oaleuated to inspire the most ardent advocate of Women’s tights. Whilst the ’wives and daughters of the land were dis cussing the “third party ” and other grave questions of state, one of the erstwhile “lord of creation" paced the corridors in the “lordly"endeevor of trying to keep his offspring from breaking out into open rebellion. The wives and daughters looked upon the sight with feelings of satisfaction at the thought that men had at last found his proper place, and the “yoke ” had been broken. As for the fallen “ lord," be pre- sented the appearance of a men who was prepared to sell himself without making hnything on the transactionâ€"Gan Refor- mer. And it is quite probable that she would have done so; but for a trifling incident which occurred before she reached her ludyship. “I am glad I came here.” she said at length. “ I am angry now, and I see things more clearly. If she had only thought of it because Mr. Binnie came, 1 could have forgiven her more easily; but she been making coarse plane all the time, and treating me with contempt. “ Octavia," she added, turning upon her, with flushing cheeks, and sparkling eyes, “ I think that, for the first time in my life, I am in s. passionâ€"a. real passion. I think I shall never be afraid of her any more.” Her delicate nostrils were dilated, she held her head up, her breath earns feet. There was a hint of exnltatipn in her tone. “3'85,” she said, .“ 1 am in a passion. And I am not afraid of her at all. I will go home and tell her whatI think!” dctavia smiled a. little again. Lucia eat winging, he; 138.9613 olaspgd tightly. Lucia. thought deeply for a moment ; she recognized, all at once. several things she had 99m ngygtlfied _l;y ibefotrer. u Oh, it ii! 1L. iw'she said. "And she has thought of it all the time, when I never augpectqd her:- _ any well brought up, by the way,do you mean brought up like your cousin, Miss Gaston? ” “There is a medium,” said Baroldr, loftily. “I regret to any Lady Theobald has not hit upon it." 7‘ Ah I" Exclaimed Barold, impatiently, “I was not looking at it from her point of View, but from his.” . V Vfifiéfiistcfiévalipped his hands in his pockets and jingled his keys slightly, as he did once before in an earlier part of this narrative. “Ah! from his," be repeated. “ Not from hers. His point of View would differ from begsâ€"qqtgrallyf’ “ Well," remarked Octavia, “ you won’t do it, I suppose. I wouldn’t worry. She wants you to marry Mr. Bel-old, I suppose." Lucia started. " How did you guess?" she exclaimed. " Oh, I elweye knew it. I didn’t guess." And she smiled ever so faintly. “ That is one oi the reasons why she loathes me so," she added. "Well, as- you my,” commented Mr. Burmistone, “I suppose there is a medium.” “A charming wife she would make for a mun with a position to maintain," re- marked Barold, with ashort and some- what savage laugh. ” Octavia Basseth ?" queried Burmistone. “ Thas‘s true. But I am afraid she would- n’t enjoy itnif you are supposing the man to he an Englishman, brought up in the regulation groove.” Barold flushéd a little, and took his cigar from his mouth to knock of the ashes. “A man is not necessarily a snob," he said, “ because he is cool enough not to lose his head where a. woman is concerned. You can't marry a woman who will make mis- takes, and attract universal attention by he: conduct." “ Octavia," she said, “ Mr. Dugald Binnie is at Oldclongh.” “Who is he?" “ He is my grand-uncle," exclaimed Lucia, tremuloualy. “He has a great deal of money. Grandmammaâ€"â€"" She stopped short. and colored, and drew her alight figure up. “I do not quite understand grandmamma, Octavia,” she said. “Last night she came to my room to talk to me ; and this morning she came again, andâ€"~ oh !” she broke out indignantly, “ how could she speak to me in such a manner 1” “What did she say?” inquired Octavia. “She said a great many things,” with great spirit. “ It took her a long time to say them, and I do not wonder at it. It would have taken me a hundred years, if I had been in her place. 1â€"1 was wrong to say I did not understand herâ€"I didâ€"be- fore she had finished.” “ What did you understand ‘2” “ She was afraid to tell me in plain words _T ‘Levnr saw her afraid before, but ulna waemfraid. She has been arranging my intuite fer melon; it does not occur to her that ’I dare objeui. " That is because she knows I am a oowerfl and despises me for itâ€"and it is what i deserve. If I make the marriage she rhooses, she thinks Mr. Binnie will leave me his money. I am to run after a men who does not care for me, and make myself attractive, in the hope that he will condescend to marry me, be- cause Mr. Binnie may leave me his money. Do you wonder that it took even Lady Thegvlgelfina long time t9 say that ?” “ She would do as she chose,” said Barold, petulantly. “ She would do things which were unusualâ€"but I am not refer- ring to her in particular. Why should I?" “ Ah I" said Butmiatone. “ I only thought of her because it did not strike me that one would ever feel she had exactly blundered She is not easily embarrassed. There is I: sang froid about her which carries things 01?.” “Ah!” deigned Barold,“she has sung fro'ifl enough and_to spare."‘ “ Has it struck you that Octavia Bassett woul_(_1_ ‘2” inquigediBnrmistone. He was silent for some time afterwards, and sat smoking later than usual. When he was about to leave the room for the night, he made an announcement for which his boat was not altogether prepared. “When thefete is (wet, my (fear fellow,‘ he said, “I must go back to London, and I shall be_de_uced!y sorgyjo do _it." “Look here 17‘ said' Burmistone, “that‘s a new idea, isn't it?" “ No, an old one ; but I have been putting the thing off from day to day. By Jove I 1 did not think it likely that I should put it off, the day I landed here." And he laughed, rather uneasily. “ MAY I GO ’2” The very day after this, Octavia opened the fourth trunk. She had had it brought down from the garret, when there came a summons on the door, and Lucia Gaston apgeayed. Tmcia was very pale, and he: large soft eyes wore a. decidedly frightened look. She seemed to have walked fast, and was out of breath. Evidently something had hep- pene§._ In His Proper Place. ’flgfipe Continued). CHAPTER. XXIII. , z, 7,â€" “0â€". -v .V pinched éut wh_e_n_ You wan ‘ With your deft offich fingers and your gami- ticism‘s aklll ‘8 Is yqug god a. wooden fetish, to be hidden out of ' 'sight”, """m “" " That hia‘block eyes may uotsee you do the thing that 15 not right '2 Few men with batterlgme could utm- on every stone ‘ 1 - That each age hath caryed the symbol of what god to them was known. ‘ 7 “ L'eg shapes and brutis‘a sometimes, but; the fairest that they knew, = If their sight was ‘dim and earthward, yet their ‘ hope {but} am; were‘trqel = ' ‘4 And markfihe rebuke that. is administered in 9. succeedmg verse _: ' Thig: op: a. farming rughlight to b9 What Scot has ever read his “ An Inci- dent in a Railroad Car ” withonta swelling of the heart? Where was ever more modest or feeling tribute to Scotland’s immortal bard than in those quiet verses: He spoke of Burns : Men rude and rough Wllalressed round to hear the praise of o e lose heart was made of manly, simp e stuff, As homespun as their own; ‘ ' And when he read they forward lesned, Drinking with thirsty hearts and ears His brook-like songs whom glory never weaned From humble smiles and tears. Slowly there grow a tender awe, 1 Sun-like, o’er faces brown and hard, As if in him who read they felt and saw Some presence of the bard. If there is any Scot, any lover of Burns, or any one who appreciates the charm of poetry of feeling, who has not read the poem I quote from he has my sym- pathy. Lowell gives Burnsa high rank and warm reception in his heart. His “ At the Burns Centennial ” is also anoble tribute to the great poet; and aproper rebuke to those whose superior righteous- ness nerves them to sit in judgment upon ‘ him is contained in the verse; ' They make religion be abhorred Who round with darkness gulf her, Who think no word can please the Lord Unless it smell of sulphur. Dear Poet-heart that childlike guessed The Father’s lovln kindness, Come now to rest! huu didst His best, If haply ’twas in blindness. In his “ Anti-Apia " he expresses in a verse 9. great truth concerning the growth of laws as founded upon our ideas of right and justice, and the hope of improvement ever present amid the blunders natural to humanity. But dig down.' the old unbury ; thou shalt find A Contemporary Poet Whose Works Will Survive Our Time. His Epigrammatlc Witâ€"Philosophy in the Garb of Dialectâ€"A Born Reformerâ€" One Whose Heart is Right. The poetry of our language has been enriched not a little by the productions of that versatile bard James Russell Lowell, who now spends the declining years of his life at his lovely home, “ Elmwood,” at Cambridge, Mass. Perhaps his “Bigelow Papers ” have done most to popularizehim, in America, but meritorious as they are he has left numerous other works which will endear his memory to posterity when, the special circumstances and occurrences at which the “ Bigelow Papers ” were directed being but a reminiscence, they will cease to exercise the force they do on the minds of the present generation, many of whom were on the scene when the curse of legalized chattel slavery was wiped out of America. His is not the‘poetry that dies with the poet. Perhaps there may be grander thoughts put into nobler verse and expressing more forcibly a great truth, but I have not met with the particular example. Woman's harshness to the unfortunate of her own sex seems to have forcibly impressed Lowell, and, in his “ Legend of Brittany," a beautiful story, after leaving the be- trayed girl freezing at the door he admin- isters this stinging rebuke to the “Levites” of the sex : Thou wilt not let her wash thy dainty feet With euch salt things as tears, or with rude air Dry them, soft I’harleee, that sitt'et at meat With him who made her such, and speek'st him fair, Leeving god’s wanderinglamb the while to bleet UnheEded, shiVen ié 1n {IQâ€"pm; 05.3.7111‘ : Thou hast made prisonedvn‘tue show more wan And haggard than a vice to look upon. his hands ; Far in from: the cross stands ready and the crackling faggots burn, Whiletthe booting mob of yesterday is silent awe re urn To glean up the scattered ashes into History's golden urn. He was born at Cambridge, Mass., on February 22nd, 1819, studied law and was in his twenty-first year admitted to the bar. The work was uncongenial, although there are not lacking in his works evidences that he derived benefit from the course of study, and he soon abandoned it and turned his attention to literature. In 1841â€"-when he was 22 years of ageâ€"his firstpublished work, “A Year‘s Life," was given to the public. In the following year “ A Legend of Brittany, and other Poems," appeared and did not fail to attract attention and evoke criticism. Since that time his name has been more or less prominently before the world of letters. He engaged with Robert Carter in publishing a magazine called “ The Pioneer," but not even the pens of Poe and the gifted elder Hawthorne could aid him to success. In 1845 the first of the series of “Bigelow Papers " and ” The Vision of Sir Launfal” appeared and were well received. Everything he wrote at or about that period breathed the spirit of the abolitionist. Into that movement he put his whole heart and influence, often to his own great personal discomfort and disad- vantage. He cared not how great was the odds against him, always exemplifying his belief that ' ' ‘md deniéd‘f'” _“' '"'" " W m” "W’ * * at fl< >1 * For Humanity sweeps onward : Where to-davy the Martyr stands. On (gh'a gnorgow crouches J udas with the silver in “They are slaves who dare not be In the right with two or three.” " From 1857 to 1862 he edited the “Atlantic Monthly,” and irom 1863 to 1872, in company with Charles Norton, be edited the “ North American Review.” His country honored him by appointing him Minister to Spain and, subsequently, to Englnnd, in both of which countries he gained an enviable popularity. It can scarcely be said that he wassbrilliant diplomatistâ€"~indeed occasion never tried his powersâ€"but he never failed to gather friends, and among all who have held the position in either of thesa countries, none leave behind such a fragrant memoryl That he was no parish politician is breathed in his “ Fatherland.” “ Where is the true men‘s fetherlend ‘2 Is it where he by chance is born? Doth not the yearning spirit scorn In such scent borders to be spanned ‘2 0 yes 1 His fetherlend must be As the blue heaven wide and free. ness and the light. >k * * * >1: >s< Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust. Ere her cause bring fame and profit and ‘tis prosperous to be just ; Then it is the brave man chooses. while the coward stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified AndH the multitude meke virtue of the faith they “V: Andi”: Where’er a human heart doth wear Joy‘s myrtlewreeth or sorrow's gyves, Where’er a. human spirit; strives After a. life more true and fair. There is the true man‘s birthplace grand, His is a. world-wide fabherlsud.” It would be quite impossible, in a' brief sketch, to give anything like representative extracts from his very voluminous- works, but; a few gems Will not fail to show some- thing of his versatility and wide range of mental vision. From his “ Present Crisis,” a poem of the abolition times, I quote : “Once to every nigm and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of _Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil aide ; . I Some great cause God’s new Messmh, ofiermg ell-eh the bloom or blight. Puts the goats upon the left hand and the sneep upon the right, And me 0110qu gogs‘by forever ’twixt that. dark- JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL‘ â€"A new Krupp gun beats the world. The calibre id 135; inches, bzlu'rel 40 feet in length, ant} its greatest difimeter fifi- feet. It shoots 11 mile’é and fires two shot; 61: minute, each shot costing between $1,r50 and $1,500. â€"Some things are so rocky that they need blasting. Under Certain Conditions. “ Do you like the Scotch if" asked one travelling min of anqthe; who was reading Burns. ' ’ ' ' “ Yes,” was the reply, ‘f if its cold weather and the Scotch is hot enough.‘.’ Ever get shaved by a barber who wore glasses? Just think over now, and see if you can remember any barber who ever were glasses. I've been in the business 20 years, says a writer in the Chicago Tribune, and I would be more apt to see such bar- bets than you, I don’t believe that I ever saw more than three. A man who can‘t see well has no business fooling around an- other men's face with a razor. I went into a recruiting oflfioe once thinking I would enlist. They asked me several questions, one of them being an inquiry about my business. I said I was a barber. The re- cruiting officer replied at once: “ Then your eyesight is all right.” I don’t thinkI ever saw a cross-eyed barber in my life. As a rule, the barber‘s eyesight is better than any class or business or profession which you find. 1 Salvation Iassles in Saloons. The women of the Salvation Army have taken to visiting the liquor saloons of New ’York and Brooklyn in order to sell the War Cry, the newspaper of the army. Two of the very pretty army girls were in a notorious saloon not a thousand miles away from the Sun othce, on this mission the other night. Leaning against the bar were gamblers and pugilists. and one or two who have been jailed for using their pistols too freely. They seemed to be shocked at the appearance of the girls among them. The modest dress and red ribbons on the ugly straw bonnets easily told them who the visitors were. Several papers were bought, when a strapping pugilist strode up and said: “ Young women, I'll buy the whole bundle if you promise never to come here again." The proposition was not considered for a second. They said they believed it to be their duty to visit such places, adding that the nuns of the Roman Catholic Church did so. “ But, don’t you know that somebody might insult you,” the big man almost pleaded. “ No, sir,” replied the speaker of the two, and in words touched with scorn, she added : “ No man will insult us ; the remarks of others would not hurt us." It was only after persistent entreaty from the proprietor that the‘ zealous women were induced to leave the ‘ place such words, for Lowell has been pre- eminently a men having the courage of his convictions, and as such he is universally respected. Criticism he has had and of the most biased and unjust kind, when his pen was one of the most active in the advocacy of the abolition of slavery ; but his honesty of motive has never been impugned. _ By the way, his “ Fable for Critics " 1s a most interesting production -s. real work of genius, whether viewed as a poem ,or merely as a. jingling rhyme, but which space forbids further reference to here. But a. glance at his “ Bigolow Papers.” How is this for dialect philosophy ? Ez fer war, 1 cell it murderâ€" There you hey it plain an’ fist ; I don't want to go no turder Then my testyment for that ; God hez sod so plump an’ fairly, It’s oz long on it is broad, An' you’ve got to git up airly if you want to take in God. ’Tnint your eppyletts an‘ feathers Make the thing a. grain more right ; ’Taint afullerin’ your bell wethers Will excuse yo in His sight; Ef you take a. sword sn’ dror it, Au' go stick e feller thru. Guv'ment eint to answer for it. God ’llisend the bill to you. I dunno but what it's pooty Trainin' roun’ in bobtail cutsâ€" But it‘s curus Christian dooby This ’ere cuttin' folks’s throats. And in the same‘atrain he makes our phi- losophical friend “ Birdcfteedum Sawin," remark on his Mexican war experiences : Therojls ‘sutt‘h'in’ giLs__into my throat that makes Few poets have had such an untroubled life as the slight, spare men, crowned with a wealth of curly grey hair, and with wavy beard, who whiles away the evening of his live in comfort among those who love and revere him in his pleasant home at Cam- bridge. MASQUETTE. it hard to SRElIél'T It comes so nateml to think about a hempen mum- : its gloatâ€"but. in spite 0' all my tryin‘ to get callus, I feel a. kind 0’ in a. cart aridin’ to the gallows. And how correctly be valued much of the current political demagoguery of the age : T1169 gi‘Qerovfjoul: ggqptry must alleys be took. An‘ l’residefit FEE,- Veal-513$,- 72a isNSu}v5;dntry, An' the angel that writes all our sins inn. book Puts aha deb‘ih to him ankto us Elbe p61; contry- Wal. its a marcy we‘ve gotfolks to tell us The rights an’ the wrongs 0’ these matters I vowr~ God sends country lawyers, an' other Wise fellers To start the world’s team when it git: in a slough ; Fer John P Robinson he Says the world’ll go right it he hollers out Gee I Lowell had had a. good deal of experience with “ practical politicians ” and certainly never were those professionals more 1am- pooned than by him. He had seen that Resolves air a thing we most gen‘nlly keep ill. They‘re a. cheap kin’ o’ duet for the eyes 0’ the people. And that so far as the professional poli- tician is concerned A merciful providence fashioned us holler O' purpose Ehst we noighb our principles swaller. So worn and wrinkled and brown, With ita emptiness confuces you, And argues your wisdom down. But for the present I must close avolume from which I have derived not a little pleasure and profit. Versatile beyond many great authors; ever natural ; pos- sessing a manly heart and gifted with Hm true poetic fire, nothing that he has pro- duced will be found profitless. He has not yet ceased to woo the Muse, although he has " warmed both hands at the fire of life,” ma bids fair to realize Happy their end Who vanish down life’s evening stream Placid as swans that drift in dream Round the next r1691; bend I Happy long life with honor at the close. Frieng‘s plainless tears, the softened thought of oes Aiut principle precious? Then Who’s going to mac it Wen there's resk 0‘ some chap‘s gittin' up to abuse it ‘2 He was early disgusted with the glitter- ing generalities in which some alleged statesman delight ever to deal, and this is how he gets at it : I'm williu' a. man 511on go tenable strong Agin wrong in the abstract, fer that kind 0‘ wrong 13 allots quop‘lar an‘ never gets pinied > His “ Pious Editor’s Creed ” is a very neat thing of its kind, bucI must not pause to quote. The temptation to do so is great but space is limited. In sorrow’s moods Lowell's poetry holds the deepest feelings in away. What mother can read his " After the Burial " unmoved 7 * ,,..__,.,-.Nl - Because ii'alarfii'o‘ng no one ever committed ; But he mustn't be hard on pertukler sins ; ‘ Cause then he‘ll be kickin' the people’aown shms‘ And yet like him to spend _11 at a. gush, keeping our first faith sure ‘rom mid-life‘s doubt and eld‘s contentment poor-1 Yes. it’s pagan; but wait; till you feel it, That jar of our earth, that dull shock When the ploughahaxe of deeper passion Tears down to our primitive rock. That little shoe in the corner. Console if you will, I can bear it; ‘Tia a. well-meant alms of breath; But; not all the preaching since Adam Has made Death other than Death. Barbers Have Good Eyes. What more could Fortune send ’9 rug pattern and 50 co] B SH, St. Thomsaygnt â€"A Leeds firm has built the biggest lathe. It weighs 300 tons, covers 75 feet by 20, and bores a hole 40 inches in dia- meter through a. 32-foot long ingot. THECDDK’S BEST FRIEN'B â€"In 1350 hatmakers got 16. per day master carpenters. 33.; carpenters, 26.; master masons, 4d.; masons, tilers and thatchers, 341.; and laborers, Lid. Acknowledged Her Ignorance. Mrs. Gullible-a‘Do you know, dear, John is just as boyish in his feelings as he ever was 1 Mrs. Kawlerâ€"-Indeed ? Mrs. Gulliblleâ€"Yes, why it was only last night I heard him talking in his sleep about seeing the elephant. The dear fiellow had doubtless bee}; t9 the cixogs, The resulfis oi English researpheg i9 Aesyria. the past year are said to be very valuable. Almost the whale at Ben- neoherib’e greet palace at Konyunjik has now been cleared out, including the library and chambers, and the result 18 that some seventeen hundred new tablets, etc" have been secured for the British museum. Pathetic Incident of Travel on a Railroad Train. It was on a Pennsylvania railroad train. coming north from Washington, says a writer in the New York Sunday Sun. All the passengers but two in the sleeper had dozed off. The exceptions were a young man anti 3 baby. 'lhe former was willing to follow the example of the majority, but the latter objected in a loud voice. Its cries awoke the other passengers, and some pretty strong language was heard. The young man got out of his berth and carried the baby up and down the our, trying to soothe it. But the baby was ailing and iretful, and its voice would not be stilled. Finally a gray-headed man, who was evi- dently an old traveller, stuck his head out from behind the curtains and called to the young man in a rather sharp voice : " A Word to the Wise is Snfilcientfl’ Catarrh is not aim 1y an inconVeniende; unpleasant to the en erer and disgusting to othersâ€"it is an advanced outpost of ap- proaching disease of worse type. Do not neglect its warning; it brings deadly evils in its train. Before it is too late, use Dr. Sage's Catarrh Remedy. It teaches the seat of the ailment, and is the only thing that will. You may dose yourself with quack medicines ’till it is too tatsâ€"’till the streamlet becomes a resistless torrent. It is the matured invention of a scientific physician. “A word to the wine is sufficient.” " See here, sit, why don't you take that child to its mother. She will be able to manage it much better than you. It evi- dently wants its mother." 7 “Yes, that’s it,” echoed half a dozen otliqr irritated passenggra. _ - Editorial writer (for Democratic paper-)4 I can’t think of a subject this morning to save me. Proprietor-“Well, you might ndminiltor adeserved rebuke to Baby McKee. We haven'hsaid anything about her for two days.â€"â€"Time. The young man continued to pace up end down for a. moment, then said in a quiet, strained voice : " Its mother is in the baggage car." There was an instantaneous hush for a moment. Presently the gray-headed man stuck his head out_into the aisle agein. _ _ “ Let me take it for a while,"uhe said, softly ; “ perhaps I can quiet it.” The Scottish games given at Paris, as a side show in connection with the exposition, appear to have been a grand success, and for the time threw Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show into the shade. The sports appear to have been well contested, although there was evidently a great deal of hippodroming. The Highland dancing was received with tumultuous applause, and the men in kilte were the heroes of the hour. Even the squad of Glasgow “ hobbies,” magnificent specimens of physical manhood as they were, did not command half the admira- tion that was so freely bestowed on the “ great big bare-legged Hielan‘men." Lord Lytton, the British Ambasador, was pre- sent on' one of the days, and had as a special guard of honor the whole squad of the Glasgow police. The climax of the proceedings was reached on the 18th inst. From behind the mountain scenery that heme in and forms the back ground of the Wild West Show emerged a procession con- sisting of the pipers, the band and the main body of the Highland competitors. It was headed by Colonel and Mrs. White, the former attired in a uniform resembling that of the Gordon Highlanders, including the familiar red military tunic, sword, belt and bearskin headdress ; while Mrs. White wore a tartan costume. The kilted lads made a splendid show on parade,being per- haps as fine a body of men as Scotland or any other country could produce. The band, as it led the way round the big arena, played the “ Marseillaise ” and *‘ Scots wha hae "â€"-airs which both evoked enthusiastic plaudits on the part of the Scottish and native spectators. The demonstration terminated with the British National Anthem,played by the band in the centre of the arena, Colonel and Mrs. White having meanwhile taken up their position on the round pulpit-like platform from which Colonel Cody’s spokesman is wont to announce to the audience the successive items for the Wild West entertainment. “Yes.” said the Professor, "when I regulate my time-piece, I consult the best authority in townâ€"the wetohmaker‘: ohronometer. In the same way, when I need a. digestive pill, I invariably take Dr. Peirce's Pleasant Pellets, because they are so accurately graduated, so gentle in their effects, regulating the intestinal action with such nicety that the system is left invigor- ated, the natural functions are resumed, my brain is clear for work, my spirit: serene, and my appetite splendid." ' The most fashionable color, at prelent, is the hue of health, and it will never go out of style. Its shades and tints are various, but all of them are exceedingly becoming. It is perfectly astonishing what achange is being d8.in wrought by Dr. Pieroe’s Favorite Prescription in the look! of sickly women. Sufferers from any sort of "female weakness” or irregularity, backache or nervous prostration should give it a trial. All druggista. ” Yes, you see the charge was 300, don’ you know,”â€"Time. brownâ€"11mm, murmnn, got a new horse ‘2 What’s his name 7 Simpkinsâ€"Well, I call him fialukllwa. “ That's a. deuoed queer nkme for n horse ? ' GENTS MAKE $100 A MONTH with us. Send 20c. for terms. Acolored yttgu‘arg‘rmrlrd 50hcollored designs. W. & F WHERE MAMMA WAS. Sgnnachegrlb/Unearphgd. Highlanders in Paris. DONL4789’ A Perennial Subject. All in a Name. “ Regularity.” Style.