It w'os interesting to see the relations be- tween them, one with the unstudied speech and manners of a rude pioneer, the other with those of a culture needed for the work of new social conditions. The younger, while he could not but be amused at what must soon become obsolete, yet reverenoed with all his heart the honest earnestness {hot persisted in methods which he would not have known how to attempt to change. The elder was as courageously upright and as fondly uï¬eotionate as he was barbarous in outward appearance and demeanor. The love he had for his protege, especially his anger wish that he should make an early happy marriage, led him often to talk of his own young time and of his conjugal life, in which it was easy to be seen that much .0! true lovo's trnition had fallen to his lot. “ Bacheldrin, Henry Dawster, now they may be some kind of men that bacheldrin suit ; but they monst'eons few, and a preacher. speshual Meth’dis’, not among 'em. Make no odds how much a young preacher in the ï¬rst off-start in his mad careers, so to speak, may think more of hisself than other people think he‘s liable to, and he mayn’t feel like he went to bother and hamper hisself with one single female section of people, yit he’ll ï¬nd in time that the time will come. and that mayby suddent, when his holt will begin to loosen, and it’ll keep ona loosenin’ tell he'll have to let her drop. And it’t speshual the case when he have good looks, but which I’ve never ben oneasy about your settin' Tar River aflre on them score. Yit so it is, and I have yit to see the bachelder preacher that won't knock under in the course of time. Because for why? In every com- bunity that I’ve ever hen anywhere they always girls, and not only them, but wid- ders and old maids of all age and descript- ion, that in a case like the present they everlastin' workin’ up shoe-slippers, or money-passes, or dressinhgownds, or neck- hankohers, or somethin’ of some kind that no nation of men of no kind ever had any use for, but which in the ï¬rst place that they’ll go to oonwince him, if he don’t look out, that he’s too good to go and preach to common poor people at ill-oonvenant places. And, at last, he’ll see that sech foolishness have to stop, and ’stid of sech onnseless articles, which nobody, much less a Meth’- dis’ preacher, have no yearthly necessity for, he’ll ï¬nd that what he wants is a wife. not only for company, but for m‘akin’ and mendin’, and keep him decent respectable. Now it ain’t that I would ricommend any young man to go into the very market of young women, as it were, like he was after a horse or a piece of prop’ty. No, sir ; and if a man is any account he’ll wait, no matter how long time it take, tell he fall dead in love with jes one lone partio'lar one by herself, and feel like, thoo every bone in his natur’, that she’s the onliest pink of perfection they is, make no deffunce how much the gittin' of married bound to take theaige oï¬ sech as that. No, sir; and I tell you now, Henry Dawster, ’twer'n’t for sech as that, that aige would he took off a heap sooner and a heap more of it. Yes, sir, my boy, wait till she strike you a center shot, and you feel like the ground ain't hardly good enough for her to walk on it. Of course a teller bound to ï¬nd out in time, and when it’s all over, that his wife ain’t of that angel kind of women love-tales tells about ; and you mayn’t believe it, but clten I've set up a mighty nigh all night with a. toller candle, and sometimes nothin’ but a light'rd knot ï¬re, a-purusin' “ Alonzsr and Melissy," and “ The Bandit’s Bride," and sech, and cried, and wantin' to be that, and, jerkin’ out my knife, hack them vfllion’s heads 0E and takin’ them wim- min off somewheres and live together, jes me and them, by ourselves. Yit I know, well as anybody that ain't a horned tool obleeged to know, he can't expect a wife who have the keer of a family to be always a-settin’ up in the parlor with her best frock on a-listenin’ to him a ever- lastin' cotin'kiss verses, like he used to did. And, besides, what’s a heap more, if any- thing, for the argyment of this p’int of the case, he have ben conwinoed. long before now, and that without her a-tellin’ him, that he ain’t. nor he never were, nether the General Wash'n't'n nor the Jul'us Cmsar he want to make her believe when she took him. But, Henry Dawster, sech idees does a man good in the ï¬rst oï¬start ; and when he’s done married and settled down, ta’r and squar', if he’ll be true, and he won’t be too fault-ï¬ndy, he’ll yit think his own wife is the best of the whole kerhoot of ’em, jes as every married man had ought to think of his wife; and as for old bachelders, he’ll always feel sorry for any sech a cold, froggy set, like I’ve ben sorry for ’em ever senoe me and Hester took up together. No, sir; or, I may rather say, yes, sir; you should ought to wait tell you ï¬nd one you think is a Wenus or a J uberter, or whut them po-uts calls ’em in their po'try ; and when you do, then far‘well world." reeled into the night 1 But we knew he’d tol’ his story, tho‘ he never spoke a. word, An‘ it wuz the saddest story that our ears had ever heard ; He had tol' his own life history’ 911‘ no eye wuz dry that day, W’en the elder rose and simply said: †My brethren, let us pray." An', than a. wqu uv deep despair an’ darkness come agam. An'long black craps hung on the doorii uv all the homes uv men ; No luv, no light. no joy. no hope, no songs uv glad delight, An‘ t ergâ€"ï¬lm. typmp. lle. staggered dowu an’ ARomanCe of Georgian Life An' then he struck a. streak uv hopeâ€"~a song from souls forgiven- !l'hetlhpnt (rompgiaon bars uv sin. an’ stormed the gates of heaven ; The mornin’ stars they sung togetherâ€"no soul was left 410119-- We felt the umverse wuz safe, an†God wuz on his throne l 77“ Hodmyl" 7 An’ then he tried a tender strain that melted in our ears, That brought up blessed memories an’ drenched ’em down 'ith tears ; An’ we dreamed of 01' time kitchens, ’ith Tabby on the mat, UV home an‘ luv 311' baby days, an. mother an’ all that! voluniéï¬ei’?†An‘ then a. red nosed, flrunken tramp of low toqed rowdy style Give andqterqwtory hiccup, an' thou staggered gained the organvé'eat. He then went pnwin‘ through the keys. 1111' soon there rose a. strain That seemed to jest bulge out the heart, an' ’lec- trill the brain ; An' then e slapped down on the thing’ith hands 7 an' head an‘ knees, Beelineâ€"dashed his hull body down kerflop upon the keys. The organ roared, the music flood went sweepiq high And dry, It [weljed gnto the rafters and bulged out into the sky, ~ The 01' church shook an‘ staggered, an’ seemed to reel an' away. An' thgglder slgputed “Glory!†1111' I yelled out > mitiz. Am“ yqyev no substitoot, as Brother Moore 01' gin. Then Deacon unngton he yelled, his teeth all so‘: on edge: “ Thia__n_:la.p pun-{ï¬nes ï¬le house of God! W’y, ..uv_v. ._ ._._.. I . ~ _ _. __‘,7 m: . “Our orgqnist is kep' to hum. laid up 'ith roo- 3}“{ï¬Ã©3iéléf ' Then‘tbro'theq holy atmosphere there crep‘ a. sense at Bin, An' thyoï¬thet air of sanctity the odor uv vikings incrilege !" The tyynpl dxdpipqsflr u. yvord he said, but slouched Theielger in his poolpit high hlm-vv- â€" _ _ stovéï¬fï¬'e ï¬gtrswwére th'ere, An' dooda ’xth tropserloonaao tight they couldn’t kneel down 1n prayer. â€" ""3th here, ' _ Will some 'un nauthe congregation be so land’s to "' "R11 gmmbun‘ feet, An' sprpwlqecl an’ staggerpd up the steps. an’ ~3§f£dids milk; ' ' Shineq b093,? 1{Med shirts, stifl dickeys, _ A- 4â€â€œ “.4..- Tho‘gret big church wnz crowded full uv broad- cloth and uv silk. An’ agtipa‘gighiqg‘gream that grows on our 01’ THE DOSTERS : The Volunteer Organist. -â€"S. W. Foss in Yankee Blade. said, as he slowly “ Oh, well. well, child, let as 3“ hope vthey'll see in good time the need of a change, and then go seriously about making it. Go to your room now and change your frock. I want you to help Bitter in baking same unkem" ‘ The mothers of theaa families much @9- ‘7 The difï¬culty with both of them, ms, is that they've been so long hiking some thing for gyunteï¬ thatâ€"†“ William does seem to rather wish to patronize Tom. I wish in my heart he’d be as attentive to business as Tom Doster. The Duster property is Improving and in- creasing constantly, while, if it wasn’t for Levi, ours would go to rock faster than it is going already. If he and Ellen are 851,6! to marry, I wish they‘d do it soon, and let him settle down to work. Hiram does some better than he ; but there's room for improvement there too.†“ He’ll call here, I doubt not, when he comes to see Tom. I hope Hiram will call upon him before thatmnd I hope that when the young man does call, brother Will won't be as condescending in manners to him as he is to Tom." †William ought toï¬have done that, of course, and, to tell the truth, 'I d like to see him myself after all the talk about his being so smart an}! such a ï¬ne preacher." ' “ Bless Ellen's heart, and yours too! You are both so thoughtful. Henry Dos- ter doesn't look like a preacher, ma. He’s handsome too, and a good talker, and a good listener.†" What did he talk about? †“ 01), lots of thingsâ€"-sooiety, books, music -â€"â€"" . “ And religion.†“ No, ma’am. not at all. I suppose he thought that young girls and of Baptist people would not care to hear a Methodist preacher discourse in private on religion, and when they were guests in the house where he lived. I thought that was very polite and sensible. Yet at bedtime he made the most beautiful prayer. His voice, especially when it takes on a religious tone, is very impressive. We were not long on books, I assure you. I suppeot he saw that Ellen and I were not anxious he should ï¬nd how few we had read, and he let us drop the subject when he saw that we wanted to. Pious as he is, yet he is full of fun. Cousin 3 Emily says he tells her things about old Mr. Swinger that she and he both, and so does the old man when present, laugh at till they have to cry. But he didn't talk about him to us. That, I suppose. he felt would be telling tales out of school. He’s devoted to music. He sang a very good tenor with some of my songs, and he said to me privately that Ellen played better than any person he’d ever heard. He evi- dently admires Ellen highly." “ Is he like Tom ? " “ Not very ; but rather. Ellen thinks he's handsomer than Tom. I hardly think so. He’s very fond of Tom, and he said that he had promised to make him a visit before long. Brother Will did not come to the house until it was nearly time for us to start back. But I was glad that he did come at last, and was polite enough to in- vite Henry Doster, when he was in the neighborhood. to call upon us." " Yes; Ellen sent me word by Will that she was going to join you at Emily's, and suggested that you might like me to send you ï¬gmething.“ “ Oh, ma, 1 was glad Cousin Emily kept me, although I felt not quite comfortable in an everyday frock in presence of a young man so well dressed and so cultivated. However, the next day, when Ellen brought me ahotherLI was already at ease.†3‘ How did y'ou girls like 'the ayoung preacher ‘2 " Mrs. May asked of her laugh- her on her return. “ I hear, cousin. If Ellen wants to come, I’ll bring her up to-morrow in our carriage. Maybe I’d better be with her when she meets the Doster that’s so awfully good- l°°kinS.-'.' .‘ . .. - " I didn't so describe him, you conceited fellow. I only intimated that some people might dare to think him handsome]: than even you. Well, 01? with you. Good-by. My {Eve toggnty and sail tbs Joynera.††Methodist at that ! " retorted Mrs. 111â€" gram. “ I wish you were as good as Henry Do'ster ; and if you didn’t think so much of your own good looksl you'd wish you ware as handsome. But you are a good boy for giving up so niosl% for Harriet to stay. Now do, my dear ill, you and Hiram, please make a set call soon on Mr. Duster, and tell Ellen as you go by there that if she has anything against Emily Ingram, that respectable lady would like to know. as soon as convenient, what it is; and you tell her further that if she (1065 not come to my house within less than one week from this day I will see if it is possible to know the reason why, and tell her that I said it in earnest and without cracking a single smile. Hear 7 †“ Caught you at last," said Mrs.Ingram, “ just as you were about to steal off. What have I done to all you people that not one of you has darkened my doors in weeks on weeks ? Will May, you may just go home by yourself, and tell Aunt Martha I kept Harriet and carried her home with me, that being the only way that I could get her there. You young folks ought to be ashamed of yourselves for not calling on my boarder and showing him some attent- ion. I tell you now that he is as good com- pany as anybody, ig‘heuie a preacher." u“: "Ur r “ Why, Cousin Emily,†answered Har- riet, looking down at her plain gingham. “ I couldn’t stay to-night. I just came to tongo get eqme things for ms, andâ€"" v “ Stay, Harriet, if you’d like," said Will. “ I’ll come for you whenever you say. You needn’t be troubled about your dress. That's good enough for kiniolka and a. preacher, Methodist at that.†“ You need't any you can’t, for I say you shall ; and it Will is too busy with the phntation work, or rather with his hunt- ing and running about, to come for you in two or three days, I'll get Mr. Ingram to take you, or 1’1! :3qu youuiinjthï¬ carriage. " --. nv-II ~v_._ 5 ,, Our girls occasionally visited the In- grams, Ellen as freely, because she knew that she was as welcome, as Harriet. Henry Doeter had seen them seldom, and not at all since he had ï¬rst gone to college. One, day, when he had been in the village several weeks, Mrs. Ingram, happening to enter one of the stores, met at the door Harriet May, who was about to return home in the lamin gig, in which her brother had brought her. The new preacher boarded with the In- grams, whose handsome mansion, in a grove of red oak and black-jack, stood at the head of a street called Maiden Lane, on the side of which, where it madea bend, was Mr. Wyman’s academy. Behind, ex- tending scuth and southwest, was their plantation of two thousand acres. Here also had boarded Harriet and Ellen while at school ; for in those times families who were at thehighest in property and social position, for the sake of the school and the churches, took boarders, and that at nom- inal charges, considering the living dis- pensed by them. Mrs. Ingram,‘ a niece of Mrs. May, had been brought up a Baptist, but after her intermarriage had accepted the faith of her husband, a Methodist class- leader. As neither of the congregations could afford to hold public worship every Sunday, the members of each commonly attended that of the other on alternate meeting-days, notwithstanding the cit dis- cussion of denominational differences. These, even sometimes when acrimonious. were ignored in neighborly intercourse ; for indeed the Rev. Mr. Bullingtcn, a near neighbor of the Ogeechee Dcsters, who served both Horeh and the Baptist church in Gateston, was believed by his brethren to know, when duly roused, about as well as Mr. Swinger, how to meet blows and to give. Mr. Wyman not often preached there, suspecting that his brother Bolling- ton’s feelings were a little hurt sometimes at the praise bestowed upon his more learned discourses, and when he did, re- cognizing the policy and the duty, as far as possible, of being all things to all men, sel- dom preached mere doctrinal sermons. 'r Henry blushed slightly, and, looking for- ward, answered, with solemnity : “ My dear Tom, it; should ever look for a wife, my best éhonose, _I euppcgse, to say nothing of oongruity. would be among one Metho‘n diets. I doubt if I shall eve: marry, bound as I am to an itinerary like, which pet-hope no women whom I could admire sufï¬ciently, especially if she were not of my religious faith, could be expected to endure without ‘co‘mplaint. But you," turning to him ageinrw‘wou, my dear Tom,’ so upright, energetic; oongtuntly bettering your con- ‘ dition with promiee of a. outeer higher. far above those young men, and with e. mnnfuler appreciation than theirs of these young women whom they have not culti- vated the manhood to deserveâ€"if you went one of them, and do not believe that you would be interfering with a. pre-contruct, expressed or implied. I repeat it, you owe it to every behest of your being as a free- man to (enter these lists." “ Tom," his cousin at- length said, “ if you‘ are satisï¬ed that these girls, are not engaged, and it you have a feeling in that way, I cannot see why you should repress it, unless you are conï¬dent that its indul- gence would be hopeless. It is plain to me that both of them like you, and in the looks ,0! each, when the name of her brother's 1 friend was mentioned, especially in the case of Miss May, there was somethingâ€"well, it seemed to me a sort of pain, inditference -â€"â€"whioh led her to turn from the subject. Now, my dear old fellow," laying his hand fondly on Tom‘s shoulder, “ I don't ask you for your conï¬dence, though I rather‘ think that I might get what in such a case I should freely give to you; but if, as I suspect, you do love one of these young women, you ought to know that a man is under some bonds to his own heart and its honorable ambitions, and I have never known one who with greater propriety than yourself may feel and use all maniul means to the fulï¬lment of such obligation." Suddenly turning upon him, Tom said, playfully : “ Looky here, my boy, why not take some of that counsel to yourself 7 There are two of these women and but one of me." i'fheryrvivarlkéd their horses for a while in silence. CHAPTER III. “ I can’t say. If they are not, it amounts to about the same. It has been understood always that it is to be so some time or other, and the girls, knowing that, feel I suppose, that they needn't be in a hurry. Those boys, I think I have noticed, have been getting impatient about matters. You can see that by their confounded over- politeness to gentlemen in~their own houses, which means that gentlemen may take notice that if they come there for any pur‘ pose outside of paying ordinary neighborly eivilities, they may as well keep away. Ma says she doesn’t believe that they are en- gaged ; and she says furthermore," he added, with a not quite hearty smile, “ that each of the mothers is anxious for her son’s marriage with the other’s daughter as soon, and wants her own daughter’s put off as late, as possible. It’s a right interesting case, is it not, where in the swap each has to give so much hoot." ’{hey had tuned into the grove fronting Tom laughed anfl answered : †Yes, they are very ï¬ne girls ; but I’ve never indulged what thoughts I may have let come into my mind occasionally." " Why not ? †“ Oh, reasons enough, Henry, for that.†" Are they actually engaged, think you, either couple ‘I " " Two remarkably ï¬ne young women. Tom,†Henry said when, having parted from the Joynera. they had mounted their horses for the return. “ I wonder you haven’t fallen in love with one of them. Indeed. I am inclined to ens eat you have â€"-perhaps with Miss May, 55 noticed that you had rather more to any to her than to the other." During the eo§ourn of a couple of (lays the cousin! paid a visit together to the Mays and Joynere. The easy courteone- uses of the preacher made a good impress- ion on the mothers. Mrs. Joyner, a much more art'ient partisan of Horeb than Mrs. May, said that she could got but wonder and be sorry that such a ï¬ne, bright young man could ever have become a Methodist preacher. Will and Hiram, as in their mothere’ presence they must, behaved with decent hospitality, although Ellen thought her brother might have made fewer allusions to the profession of the principal visitor, and perhaps Harriet woï¬ld have been more pleased it Will had been less punojiliously gracious. : Although Tom Doster had never shown, as he was aware of, any preference for either. Hiram, particularly since his own most unexpected discouragement, suspected him of wishing to marry Harriet, sud for some time past what had been meant for condescension toward him had given place to a reserve that ill concealed his jealous hostility. If Tom’s preference had been for Ellen, such hostility would have been as deep, though different in kind. But in that case he could have given, as he knew, open and effectual expression to it, and this he would have done with his native arbit- rary resolutoness, knowing well that his chances of getting Harriet, uncertain. as he had been startled to ï¬nd them, would be reduced to nothing unless Will was to have Ellen in exchange. Tom was aware of this suspicion, which, whether well founded or not, was then known to none besides him- self. He had been meeting Eiram’s new manners as he had his former. apparently not noticing that they were different from what he might have been better pleased to see. His visits, especially at the Joyners', continued as theretofore, infrequent and seemingly. it not really, accidental. Several times, however, within the last six months, when the girls, together or singly, were visiting friends in town, he went there. and â€"-generally with his cousinâ€"called upon then; whenever they were elsewhere than at tho Ingrsms'. In this time Henry Dos- ter had become well acquainted with both ; but it was near the modal! the spring before he made his long~promised visit to Tom. This occurred only a. few days after a call which Hiram, responding to many suggest- ions from both families thereto, had made upon him. . n n v, .2 j..... sired to each have the other’a daughter for her daughter-in-law. though the contem- plation of the other's son in corresponding relationship was far from eager. The young men had received many an earnest parental admonition of the danger of losing what they had been counting on always in security; and for more than a year past they had been growing more anxious upon the subject than they would have admitted to any. Especially was it thus with Hiram, who, of the two, was more single-minded, or far greater persistence in sullen purpose, and capable of deep resentment of injury done or suspected to be intended. Not courteous by nature, he had ever deported himself toward both the girls as if neither had ght to opinion as to the disposition which circumstances had destined.' Wil- liam May, gay, volatile, was fond of teasing his little sweetheart in all ways within the limit of impunity. In neither case had been that ardor of pursuit which is always becoming, and which is almost always necessary with such girls as Harriet and Ellen. Therefore, when courtship began to be avowed, the men were surprised, and Hiram indignant, though much frightened, when their proposals were checked by the girls, who said, smiling, that, having been conï¬ned at school so long, they must have rest of indeï¬uate duration, with as much freedom and fun in it as possible. They were lovely girls. None knew that fact better than Hiram and Will, and, I may add, Tom Doster, who lived so near, yet regarded himself as so far away. No doubt from childhood they had looked forward to the destiny which to all minds seemed in- evitable, Yet now, become women, they felt that influence of a kind hitherto un- known must accrue before they could con- sent to take such steps. ‘ The Michigan Supreme Court is adding to its_reputntion by administering ï¬nes for y‘axatxous appeals. It; is reported that the total amount paid to Parnellito counsel is » £20,000. Sir Charles Russell relieved £7,000, Mr. Lock- wogfl and Mr. R. T. Read (both Q. C’s.) were paid $3,500 each, Mr. Edward Har- rington and Mr. Asquith, £1,500 each, and Sir Charles Russell’s son and the two o$her juniors were each rewarded for their labors by the payment of £1,000. ' Touching La Grippe the one golden rule on which all doctors are agreed is " when you have the influenza, go to bed and stay there.†" The death rate would diminish,†says the ofï¬cial French note, “ if, when people are attacked by the grippe, they would not commit the imprudenoe of going 3 out and exposing themselves to the coldâ€"ii they would take one of themselves, and, being grippes, not run the risk of aggra- vating their illness through their own im- prudenoe." But whether the disease is their own fault or not, writes the Pall Mall " Tittle Tattler," the lot of the “gripped†(if I may snglioize the words) is decidedly not a. happy one. Indeed, according to the correspondent of the Daily News, the influ- enza. is s veritsble plague. “I went through the hospital,†she says, " during the cholera. ‘ visitation and did not then witness any. thing like the emount of human suï¬ering which I saw this momin’gï¬I " “I know not how independent such a person habitually feels, but I know very Well that I shall always be a very depend- ent woman. and so I mean to try to be very careful as to the one on whom I am to de- pend mainly whenâ€"when the time comes. Brother William,†she went on, nerved by t a feeling stirred by his harsh language, “ you and Hiram Joyner have always had some strange notions, and neither of you has had the art, perhaps because you never believed it worth your while, to conceal them. You have acted with me as if you had, and could have had, no other expect- ation than for me to accept Hiram in mar- riage Whenever he chooses to offer himself, and Hiram has done the same and more with Ellen in her relation to you, and that because such was the surest if not the least troublesome means of accomplishing your own ends. Why could not both, or one of you at least, sue on your own ments 2" 1 (To be Continued.) “ My 1†Be said, pleasantlylas it com- menaing her spirit ; “ you talk as if you felt inflependent age a. woqd-snvzyey." “ Brother Will. I do not object to the visits of Tom Dostetâ€"I, for whom you suppose, perhaps truly, that they are in- tended mainly, and I have good reasons to believe that Ellen feels similarly about those of his cousin. Ma has not forbidden, nor has Mrs. Joyner that I know of, that we receive the visits of these young men, and until that is done I, at least, shall treat them with the some civility with which I have always treated thosé whom I have takep to be gentlemeq.†“ He has not ix‘ndeed the property that, for instance, you have, or Hiram ; but as for position, you know very well that in this county it is as good aBâ€"as anybody’s, not only for what depends upon his perso- nal character, but his family. which I have heard pa say was as good as any in all his aoquaintauoq." “ Ay ? Well, I merely remark that Hiram is getting furious about the report connect- ing Ellen’s name with that Methodist 002;- oomb, and he says that it has to stop, other- wise he will forbid his visiting the house. If they were of the right sort of men they would less often come to private houses where they are obliged to know that they are not wanted." “ Idon‘t see, brother Will, Why Tom Doster should not feel as you describe about his ‘ goodness,’ as you call it, compared with that of other young men of his ac- quaintance,†she wavyered, very, very mildly. ‘ " We“, I do: for he has neither the property nor the. pgsition to warrant.†., “A†L‘_AL †Harriet. of course I don’t believea word of this talk that is going the rounds about you and Tom Dostet. Yet since his cousin, that everybody is flattering out of his senses. has been gaming down here, and following you and Ellen ‘all over town when you go there, Tom has gotten to be as proud as 3 peacock with a full-spread tail, and he behaves as if he felt himself as good as anybody, What ' the deuce (1065 it all mean ? I never saw Hiram so angry in my life.†the house, when, checking their hogsea simultaneously, they dismounted. There was so much of solemn earnestness in Henry’s words that when they had seated themselves upon the projecting roots of one of the oak-tress, Tom told him without reserve the secret that hitherto had been kept within his own breast. Henry, putv ting his arms around him, and laying his head upon his breast, was silent for a min- ute. ’l'hen, lifting himself upright, he said, with_glovqi_ng time : Hiram had learned at last that his sister, petite, meek, though she was. could not be controlled entirely by his own imperious will. Without speaking to her on the mat. ter, he ruminsted silently upon what course he would pursue it he should be con- vinced that there was any just foundation for it. But William May, outspoken always, determined to ï¬nd out if possible at least how for Harriet was interested in Tom. One day, 3119): returning from one of the ï¬elds, having met Tom, who had just come out of the house seeming in con- tented humor, he said to his sister : CHAPTER IV. Promptly began a change in Tom Dos- ter’s life. Not neglecting any part of his work, he thenceforth went more frequently not only to the Mays’, but the Joyners’ ; for kindred to his own was the cause of the cousin who had imparted to him the new courage by which he was now inspired. In- creased freedom of speech was noticeable at both houses, particularly when one or both of the young men were present. It looked as if he meant to show that he felt himself to be any man’s equal in whatever a man may strive with honor to achieve, re- grading the mats and dangers at what they were worth, no less, no more. Always having ignored the CODdBBGElirlODB of Wil- liam May and Hiram Joyner‘s supercilious reserve, he treated the expression and the witholding of their opinions as it they were of the same importance in his mind as those of any others in the neighborhood. It was plain that he had decided to be necessary not only courage, but timely ex- hibitions of it. His cousin acted similarly whenever in their society. He saw the girls always when they were in town, and several times within the space of e few weeks had visited them at home, sometimes with Tom, more often alone. Though little used to the society of young women, the instincts of a true lover who had been born and rented a gentlemen taught him at once all the manners he needed. Before the summer was ended it began to be talked in the village, and throughout the region between it and the river, that Tom Duster was courting Harriet May and Henry courting Ellen Joyner, both, to all appear- ances, with very fair prospects of success. What made the rumor seem more probable was that not one of them, male or femalef when joked upon the subject, either admit- ted or denied. “ 0h, Tom! my beloved, my most precious old Tom 1 Thankful am I, oh, so thankful 1 Yet I would have chosen. and I would have prayed to die rather than not avoid a conflict between your heart and mine! You understand now my earnest wish to look into yours. Give me your hand. Hand in hand we will go to meet thcse arrogant youths, who already claim what they have never learned how to sue for and to win. Let us commit the issue to God, who, I do not doubt, will order whatever is best for all †Go to Bed and Stay. Mien Annie Guldetone, daughter of the family physician of the Prince of Wales, died recently in Lonaon, and left in her will a. bequest big enough and shocking enough to rattle the nerves of moral reformers and prohibitioniete. This item is just £3,000, to be deposited in the Lon- don Bank, and its interest applied to the purchase at severel bottles .of the best champagne for the use :0! untora ‘nnd actresses on every occasion when the play calls for Wine drinking upon the stage. Mr. Henry Irving has been appointed by the teltatrix an the trnatee at the fund. Down Went -â€"â€"â€" . The late Mr, MoGinty is, says the New York Sun, responsible for the success of a. new device in the toy line. A good many young men are scattered over the principal streets nowadays greeting passers‘by with the line, " Down went McGinty to the bottom of the senâ€â€"s.nd as they sing they hold aloft a. glass tube ï¬lled with water. In the water is a. comical looking ï¬gure that remains at the top of the tube when its buoyancy is undisturbed. By pressing the thumb upon the top of the tube the ï¬gure is caused to sink slowly to the bottom. whence the appropriateness of the song. The device has many patrons. Ball Dresses. Ball dresses are being made of fancy gauze, crepe de chine, lace and net. The ï¬sh-net dresses seem to increase in popu- larity, and are brought out in many designs, With spots and cubes introduced at inter- vals. They are made with full round skirts, raised on one side to show an under- shirt edged with velvet. Jetted nets are most fashionable patterns in jet, being used for the front and sides of gowns; others have a pattern running all over the net and used for the whole gown. Another novelty isa panel or front of the skirt, thickly sewn over with blossoms. Another novelty consists of net, throagh which are run sev- eral rows of ribbon in groups, silk slip of another color, and the skirt edged in front with a ruching of flowers. Skirts, when not made with a train, should always rest on the ground. The bodices are low and draped, the drapery often caught up on the shoulder with bows of ribbon. Black, and black combined with white or color, is worn ; the lace, embroidered with sprigs or spots, is mounted over a black-silk undershirt, and black velvet is also popular, plain or ‘trimmed with jet or gold embroidery. Black and white shoes are the latest novelty foreveningâ€"it the sides are black the toes will be white or the sides white and the. toes black. Queen Anne shoes are also favorites,‘with' pointed toes, broad insteps, and low heels; small paste or silver buckles. Kid 'gloves will be more worn than suede this winterâ€"for day wear-fin tan and gray shades; for evening, the suede very long, meeting the sleeve. ' They must match the own in color or else he of tan color, whic goes with every color. Embroidered gloves will also be worn, matching the shoes. Suede mittens are a novelty for evening and are sure to be popu- lar, as they do away with the necessity of removing the glovesâ€"Gazette of Fashion. A Quaker’s Letter to His Watchmaker. I herewith send thee my profligate watch which greatly standeth in need of thy friendly correction. The last time he was at thy friendly school he was in no way re- formed, nor in the least beneï¬ted thereby, for I perceive by the index of his mind that he is a liar, and the truth is not in him; that his motions are wavering and irregu- lar; that his pulse is sometimes fast, which betokeneth not an even temper, at other times it waxeth sluggish. Not- withstanding I frequently urge him when he should be on his duty, as thou knowest his usual name denoteth, I ï¬nd him slum- bering, or, as the vanity of human rea- son phraseth it, I catch him napping. Ex- amine him, therefore, and. prove him, I beseech thee, thoroughly, that thou mayest become acquainted with his inward mind, frame and (disposition. Draw him from the error of his ways and show him the path wherein he should go. It grieves me to think, and when I ponder therein, I am verily 0! opinion that his body is foul and the whole mass is corruption. Cleanse him, therefore, with thy charming physio from all pollution, that he may vibrate according to the truth. I will place him a few days under thy care and pay for his board as thou request. I entreat thee, friend John, to demean thysslt according to the gift which is in thee and prove thy- self a workman, and when thou layest thy correcting hand upon him let it be without passion, lest it should drive him to destruc- tion. Do thou regulate his motions for a time, to come by the motion of light that ruleth the day, and when thou ï¬ndest him converted from the error of his ways and more conformable to the above-mentioned rules, then do thou send him home with a just bill of charges, drawn out in the spirit of moderation, and it shall be sent to thee in the root of all evil. Rev. Mr. Eaton’s Views on the Question of Dancing. Rev. Charles H. Eaton, of the Church of the Divine Paternity, Fifth nve., New York, has been preaching a. series of ser- mons on “ The Ethics of Pleasure.†011 Sunday night his subject was “Ministers and the Ballroom.†He is thus reported in the New York Herald : 9' My advicgas a. minister is then,dance, but dance at proper hours, with proper company, Let your pleasure be not in extravagant display, but in simplicity and grace, and do all with temperance." “A protest should be made by the Christian Church against the use of wine at public balls, both before and other 1 o‘clock. The Centennial Ball was a. shame and disgrace to the city of New York. Wine 31; private gatherings may be left to personal judgment, but there should be no liberty of judgment in reference to these large gatherings. “I would have every dance begin, like the dramatic performance or the opera, 9.: 8 o'clock and and as 11. Promiscuous balls should be unqualiï¬edly condemned. The private dancing parties where the associations are pure should be encouraged. Extravaganoe of preparation and im- moaesty of dress are among the moon:- paniments of balls which should be avoided. But these remarks may be applied to a ohnroh reception on well as to a bad]3 “ There is, perhaps,†the preacher be- gun, “no question so hotly discussed as the one I have proposed for our evening’s consideration. The attitude of the present Church, as represented by the clergy and its strictest members, has been one of antagonism to the dance. At present, though. the clergyman who are the de- scendants of those who formerly so bitterly denounced the evil of denoing are silent about the ball, and honored church people crowd the present month so full of the dance that there seems to be no cessation of the nightly gayeties. “ It must be granted that those who ob- ject to the dance and the ballroom have much ground for complaint. A life may be so absolutely given to this form of pleasure that it becomes only evil, nnd so excessive and unseasonable that actual sin is committed in connection with it. But this may be said of all honest and pure recreations. Indulged in under proper restrictions, dancing is of real advantage It cultivates grace and manliness qnd gives self-possession. _ “ The Church would do well to cut loose from fanaticism, and exercise a. wise con- trol and beneï¬cent influenceover this class of entertainment. It is hardly short; of crime for women to live the fashionable life of the day. Connected with the evil of late hours is the evil arising from tha exoegaive ppmber of balls given. A y “ Undef such restrictions it is produc- tive of physical and mental healwh, and is by IIE‘EEEPS in‘compaftj'QIe witp religiop. A TIME TO DANCE. A Memphis compact, who was badly beaten some years ago by footpads, who were disappointed at ï¬nding no change about him, has since carried a 50-oent piece as a lite-preserver. I v ’ - A â€" Grade orossinga. McGinty and the grippe must go.â€"â€"Buï¬"alo Times. ' Little gmins of quinine; Little drinks of rye, Make 19. grippe that’s got you Drop its hold and fly. This may quickly help you If you’ll only try ; But don't forget; the quinine When you take the rye. Ko-ko, in the ‘9‘Milmdof.s was won‘t iso ask, “ Is a. man any better when‘he‘s tough 7 !’ The pool-ream habitue now innocently asks, “ Is a. man anytougher when he beta ? †- The winter in St.’Petersburg is désoribéd as “the mildest and unhealthiest known for many years.†' Mrs. Snuggaâ€"But €116 isn’t dear. Shel a Miss Robinson. Snaggsâ€"The young lady who just passed 109153 lilge a misag‘th‘roge. _ Is there any religion but this, to know that, wherever in the wide desert of being, the holy sentiment we cherish has opened into a flower, it blooms for me? If none sees it I see it ; I am aware, it I alone, or the greatness of the fact. The history of those gods and saints which the world has written, and then worshipped, are documents of character. The ages have exalted in the manners of a. youth who owed‘nothing to fortune, and who was hanged it the Tyhutn of his nation, who, by the pure quality of his nature, shed an epic splend‘or around the recto at big death, which has tréneï¬gured every particular into a universal éymbol for the eye§ of mankind. A divine person is the prophecy of the mind; afriend is the hope of the heart. Our beatitude waits for the fulï¬lment of theaetwo in one. I know nothing which life has to offer so satisfying as the profound good understand- ing which can subsist, after much exchange of good offices. between two virtuous men, each of whom is sure of himself and sure of his friend. Nature never rhymes her children, not makes two men alike. * * * Nonewill ever solve the problem of his character according to our prejudice, but only in his own high unprecedented way. _ We Have aéen many coun'terfeita, but we are porn beliqyera h; gran}: men. Character is nature in the highest form. It is of no use to ape it. or to contend with it. * * * This masterpiece is best where no hands but Nature’s have been laid on it. New actions are the only apologies and explanations of old ones, whichthe noble can bear to offer or receive. We know who is benevolent by quite other means than the amount of subscrip- tions to soup-sooietiea.’ It is only low merits that can be enumerated. No institution will be better than the institutor. Our actions should rest mathematically on our substance. In nature there are no falsa valuations. , "-70, N o ohaï¬ge of oircnmshnoea can repair a defect of character. TherE is flothingrrredl'dfdsvéful that is not a seat of war. How often has a. true master realized all thg‘ta1gs pf fungiu I Men of oharaï¬'ter arév (h; édï¬sbience of the society to {which they belong. Character is centrality, the Impossibility oilï¬eng flisplatqed or qverset. A Few Epigrammatic Sentences by the Sage of Concord. The people know that they need in their representative much more than talent, namely. the power to make his talents trusted. Truth is the Eummit of being; justice is thggppliggt-iop of it to affsira Thé-will of the piiré Hing down from them into other natures, as water tuna (303211 frqm_ a higher into q lower vessel. Instead of doing fancy work Mrs. Edward Bellamy devotes her leisure to the study of conchology. In the evening. after dinner, she appears with a. little basket full of sea shells, spreads a tray of mucilage and bruses, with sponge. cup and scissors on the table. gets the natural histories within reach, and, with the author of “ Looking Backward,†spends the whole evening class- ifying and labelling the collection of rare shells. " Ouida†uses scentin her hair and on her eyebrows that costs $30 an ounce. She can‘t bear a piece of muslin that has been starched, and the touch of velvet. she says, makes her flesh creep. She hates the world, likes to ofl‘end it in her books and shook it with he: manners. Her study has a great Persian rug before the heart-batons, and here she likes to lie and scream a little to ventilate her feelings. He love for lilies and hyacinths is shown in the artistic Atoille, who ï¬gure: as the heorina of “ Friendehipcfl Pen Pictures of a Few of the Noted Literary Women of Toâ€"day- Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller is making a fortune with her thrilling love stories She lives in a. grand old country house, wit-h tall columns and rambling piszzss, located near Stafford county, Vs. Taken to bed for good, as she says, she does all her work on a pillow, which is placed on her breast as a rest for her writing pad. She uses a pen, and during the thinking and resting spells throws ink all over the bedolothes. So accustomed has the helpless invalid become to the blue-black spots that a new, fresh counterpsne isa hindrance to her work until it has been baptized in ink. From one paper she draws s salary of $5,000 3. yesr for her serials. A women who writes books is usually looked upon by other women as a ï¬t sub- ject for'the most abject hero worship, and her opinion is considered invaluable upon every subject, whether it be the number of courses to serve at dinner or the germ theory in diseaseâ€"n position not without its trials surely to a woman who is honest enough to confess to herself that her ideas upon many things are of little value. Within the last half century the number of women who write has been con- tinuslly on the increase, until it is now ofï¬cially acknowledged that of the contri- butions to the best magazines fully seven- eighths are women. Many of the most popular moï¬ern novels are written by women. Take, for instance, “The Story of Margaret Kent,†over which every one went wild three seasons ago; Mrs. Hum- phrey Word’s “Robert Elsmere †and Margaret Delund’s " John Ward, Preacher,†of more recent date. Ante issue of the New York World has the fol- lowing sketches of three popular women writers, besides a short sketch of Mrs. eqvnrd Bellamy; . ho W8»; :‘ne most devoted of men end very proud of the little story-writer. She says : “ Nothing pleased me more than to have him say, ‘You are such a good fellow, Fauny.’ " Mrs. Barrow counts among her' personal friends the illustrious Bancroft. who, on ï¬guring up the receipts from their individual publications, posted the total on his linen cuff, with the remark, †You have made more money out of your children's stories than I have made out of my his- tories. Fume? Yes, but in this material age the intangible is not nourishing. We must be fed body and aoulrto llve.†Mrs. James Burww, †Aunt Fanny,“ whose married life of twenty years was one season ot vacation days, must have heard very many compliments from her husband, EMERSON 0N ‘° CHARACTER.†Another Girl Entirely. WOMEN WHO WRITE. n. with us. Band 200. for terms. 7 X06016? rug Eamon-n and 50 colored designs. W. M? B s .89. Thomas,0nt. There were $100,000,000 worth of jewels worn at the New York New Year's ball. but not one was stolen. which says much for the honesty of the 400. Dejeetet‘x Youthâ€"“ I would like to return this en‘gagemement ring I purchased here a few days ago." Jewellerâ€"“ Didn’t it suit the young lady? " D. Y.â€"“ Yes, but another young man had already given her one just; like it and I would like to ex- change it for a wedding presentâ€"Life. fHECUDKï¬BESï¬fENh 'siuy smghf" "" m "'m “m ‘W‘m? U? Nor foolisllll, giddy persons who are eve; 0;; ph‘e mas ; ‘ ‘ She‘s awful queer, for irequently she’s lgusy darning Beck‘s, ' ' ' ' " 0: doing 1inner gutigs whilg he; mother guts ang too a ; With ‘ust' such strange, unusual way: her heart 21d hands are nfe, I hope to some time make this odd,oId-fashioued girl my wife. , V ,__._-. r ...... “an... Avnvvwl- nuq :- 'day She haa‘n'o use for novels with their wogld o$ aim; trnnh ' ‘ - v‘ - She doesn't care for music’ ah'd' ‘she never tries to play, ‘ ' ' She agesn’t crochet pillow Shams forever and a. “ Ayouug lady in Penn Yam, N.Y.. wear! twelve diamond rings on one ï¬nger.†She should also wear a gold band around her: head, to prevent the crack in her skull from becoming wider. For biliousnees, sick headache, indiges- tion, and constipation, there is no remedy equal to Dr. Pierce’s Little Pellets. Purely vegetable. One a dose. Colonel Chestnutâ€"I see they are drug- ging the river again. Mr. Monthopenâ€"‘Sthat so? What for? Colonel Chestnutâ€"To ï¬nd McGinâ€" The Coroner’s jury found that the Colonel’s death was caused by strangula- tion. No arrests. Must be in poor health and unable to do) good day’s work. A disordered liver or any disease caused by acrofula or bad blood will be considered aqualiï¬oation, but preference will be given to tnose having obstinate Inflec- tions of the throat and lungs, or incipient consumption. Apply to the nearest drug store and oak for a bottle of Dr. Pieree'a Golden Medical Discovery. It is the only guaranteed cure in all cases of disease for which it is recommended, or money paid for it will be reloaded. Motherâ€"Why, Johnnie ! What on earth hagqyoq bee_1_1_ dpipg? WW JoHnnieâ€"Fight'zi". ‘N' say, you owe me half a. dollar on it. Know that tooth you was goin’ to pay a. teller to jerk ? “ Yes.†" Well, Billy Biffer knocked ’er out." “ This comes ‘ hopping ’ to ï¬nd you well as it leaves me at this present," was the quaint ï¬nish to many a letter in days gone by. The “hopping†was oid spelling for hoping. This comes hoping to point some weary woman, the victim of functional de- rangementa or uterine troubles, internal inflammation and ulceration or any other ailments pecuiiar to the sex, the way of hope, health and happiness. Dr. Pierce’u Favorite Prescription in the only medicine for woman’s peculiar weaknesses and ailments, sold by druggiste, under a positive guarantee from the manufacturers, at antis- faotion being given in every case, or money refunded. See guarantee printed on bottle- wrapper. Italian scientists have been testing the senses of criminals, and they ï¬nd these duller than in the average of people. Dr. Ottoienghi, in Turin, found last year alesa acute sense of smell in criminals, and he now makes a similar afï¬rmation with regard to taste after tests consisting of the application of bitter and sweet substances (strychnine and saccharine) in dilute solu- tion to the tongue. He ï¬nds also the taste of the habitual criminal less acute than that of the casual ofl‘ender, and a slightly more acute taste in the male than in the female criminal. EXperiments with regard to hearing resulted in demonstrating that in criminals 673 per cent. have less than the normal acuteness. Ear disease was common._ These deï¬ciencies are attributed to bad hygienic reorrrxa}triiorï¬s"«Sfâ€"'iin-e-~ ME vicious habits.â€"â€"New York Telegram. What Outsiders Think and Say About Those Within. We are very stupid, it seems to me, my dear friends, it, while we sit snugly in our decorated sanctuaries we never care for what thousands of our lost brothers and sisters are not only whispering to each other, but saying out louder and louder and louder every year till you begin to hear it in your lectures and read it in your papers. This is somewhat the fashion of their doubt: †What is it that you Christian people mean by your ‘ gospel?‘ What is the upshot of it? We hear that you have got a ï¬ne set of arguments to prove it, and that you call them ‘ Evidences of Christianity.’ What they are we never knew, for you and we were never together long enough for us to ï¬nd them out. But some things we can see. We see your equipsges roll by to the church on Sunday morning. If we follow and look in, we see a building that you put up for you-ovm accommodation; no places made there tor such as some of us are, or. if any, only a nook in some untidy corner. And when you have hidden us well out of you wayâ€"â€" our wives from your wives, and our daughters from your daughtersâ€"then you rise up and call us all ‘Dearly beloved brethren.l We get confused about these things. We hear you read sometimes of a marvellous kind Shepherd of long ago. who went out into the moun- tains seeking Hie sheep~His own feet torn very often with the rocks. His hands bleeding with the briers, when he rescued the perishing. Is that your way with us? When you ask us in, is it because you heartily love us as you love yourself, or is it that you want to count us in with your number over against the rival religious establishment across the way? On the whole, we Will do without your Christian- ity." We here can see, I hope, the ex- aggeration in these rough questions. and where the line runs in them between truth and anger. Run the line where you willâ€" the fact stands out that most of the sheep- folds are virtually private, property. Let us be brave enough to own that unless we right that Wrong, it will not be very long before Pantheism and its academics, Atheism and its play houses, inï¬delity and its beer shops, will have hung out their flaring signals along streets where open churches ought to have gained the people's heart to the Shepherd who really does care for them. We shall cry in vain to the unbeliever, to the publioans and sinners. unless we cry with the old prophet, “ Come ye to the waters without money and With- out prioe; whosoever will' let him come."â€" Bishop H untingeon’s sermon at Boston. wag THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. ENNIS $100 A MONTH Plucklng Victory From Defeat. This Comes Hopping.†The Senses of Criminals. D. 0. N. L. 5. 90. Wanted, 10,000 Men, THAT STRANGE GIRL