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“ Adieu, then, Gustav. A 'pleasant journey to you 1 If you didn’t come back for fifty years you would find me will hem, milking the cows and attending to the house- hold. Life here is much the same year by yea-r.”‘ ‘.. ...v. . ~r “Lie-Chen. ‘ child, I must say adieu I know not when I shall see thee.-1 again.” ' "viz-ind thou wouldst not fret, Lieschen, if I did not come for fifty years 1'” He spake as though he scarcely knew whether to jest or be m saunas. and stood watching her with a wistful. doubtful smile. She was making buttermilk cheeses at the dresser by the rcullery wipdow, and he was leaning in over the window-sill, With a pipe smoldering in one hand, while the other kept breaking off little twigs and roses that clambered all round the window, and made a. pretty frame to his sun-burned face and broad shoulders. "ngiéliénirlaugrlmd at his queltion, as elm shinped the little white cheeses all npeckled over with caraway-aeeda, and did not lock up. “You would be about a hundred years old then, Gustav, I think,” was the only remark she made. Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hasâ€"Merchant of Venice. “No, come, Lieschen, that is cruel of you. I am only thirty-oightâ€"more than twice your age, it in true, but not nearly fifty. And in is something to have a fine farm and a good new house, and the only carriage on Regen,even if your husband is old enough to know white from black." “Thou dost not care, Lieschen, ’tis plain to see,” he said bitterly. “I think thou hast no heart at all, for all thine eyes are so sweet and thy ways so gentle. Thou‘rt some memalden from the sea. here. and one day will vanish like the foam. Is it not so ‘2” I "I don't make myself," retorted the girl patulantly, “and I never asked you to come and fall in love with me. If you are not ntisfied"â€"she drew the gold botrotbal ring from her fingerâ€"“here’s your ring. Give it to somebody that has a heart fgr you." Liescheh hung her head, and her big browgg e; as filled viich tears "Tut, tut, child I Not many maidens of sixteen can boast of such a fine, brave lover as thine, with his broad farm and nice new house and stending. and everything heart can desire. Not but what thou cause bring him linen enough to stock the house, were it twice the size it is ; but he had no need to seek out a. simple child like thee to be his bride." “So I tell him, nurse. I didn't want him â€"- UGustav l” Her speech was smothered in his great reacl beard.“ ViéasvmvBaier bit his lip Emu frowfied an email; 3% h_e looked at he:._ He left the window abruptly, and she glanced up, flushed and frightened, not. knowing what he meant to do. The next minute he came in at the door from the yard, and went up to the table where she stood with the ring in her open hand. "Come, come, we musn’t quarrel," he said peaceably, replacing the ring, and drawing her onto his knee as he sat on the dreazer. “1 shall not be satisfied till that ring is on the other hand, and you have come away home with me." "Yes, quite,” she said, Qvith a gulp. "if you would let me alone, Gustav. I am yours nowâ€"what more do you want? You say I have no heart ,- I can’t give you what I havn't gqt.” iiYéSffEiIbQ," said Liescheu, indifler eutly ; “but thgre i_s ple‘nty of Qime yeti." “Wham, orymg !” be Iemonstrated. taking her chin in his great rough hand, and turn- ing her unwilling face round towards him. “Thunder and lightning. why, no she is! You spcil those eyts my pretty one. \Vhat’s it all about? Art not hoppy, Lieschen 2" “\be, that’s true. Give me kisses in- stead, then,” raid he, magnanimously,â€"~ “enough for fifty years, in cane I do not see thee again.” ’ iiséhpid old Gustav!” cried the gifl, laughmg and struggling. “There, that will do l. Put me down, Gustav." “Aob! see, now, theselovers,theeelovers!" cried an old shrill voice in the doorway. “Tears and smiles and kisses, kisses and smiles and team l So runs the world away, and the old folk are forgotten”. "Lieschen counts me one of the old folk. nurse," remarked Gustav. pausing to speak, but holding his prisoner helpless the while in his great strong arms. - Perhaps the wistful look in his eyes, or the sadness that crept into his voice as he said these last words, touched the gixl ; perhaps she loved him after all ; anyhow, before he had crossed the threshold she ran alter him andslipped her hand. through his. " Good-by, dearest,” he said at last, putting her down "Take care of her for me. nurse. I don’t think it will be fifty years before I come again,” he added, turn- ing to Lieschen as he went out, “though to me at least. it will sseln t‘wice as long.” “I’ll-£0 as far as the gate with you dear Gustav,” she said; and they walked away d)wn the yard together. “Look at y young ducks.Guatav ; aren‘t they growin fast? And theLchickens tool And look at those lazy geese; they do nothing but feed and sleep. Do you know, I thought they were all up, every one of them 2” “Du lieber Himmell VVbst does the child mean! Hearts ? Why, they are born so I" exclaimed the old woman, taking off her spectacles, the better to see her young questioner.‘ “What art thou chattering about 2" “Ay. thou’n a. brave housewife, Liesohen; and it thou lovetb thy father now, and set- vest him so well, I doubt not thou‘lc love me when the time comes. Adieu, henlieb- chen.’ Be good and happy and don‘t forget meâ€"eh 2" “Nurse,” Eaid Liescheu, re-e'nieriug the soullery, “how do people come to have heart: I" “Gustav says I have no heart, nurse,“ she replied. sitting on the old woman’s knee and stroking her white halt, “and Ithink he i§_right. How do W9 get heu'ta 1" "Herr Gustav should rejoice that thou hast none,” said the old nurse. looking thoughtfully into the bright young face with her dim eyes : “it comee by sufi‘on’ngâ€"quâ€" fering and sorrow and trial, and weeping and lovingâ€"loving brings It all. They say a heart is like the steel in iron ; ’tia there, but you can not have it till it has gone through the terrible fires and been beaten on the anvil. The good God save thee from finding thine ; for truly I think it would be thy death, my little flower." _ “No, you dear, good Gustw I Adieu 1 Copy; Boonuagafg l':_ Agni so they patted.” LIESCHEN. "Gustav in very good 1» me," murmured Lieachen, slowly turning the ring on her finger. “I think [do love him: he in so tall and broad and strongâ€"he could kill me whh (ne hand. nurse, I 20 think." “Behute I “’hat nonsense the child doe. talk !" exclaimed the nurse. “But see," she said pointing to the window, “ in not that thy Gustav come back again? Run, child, and see v hat bring: him.” Liescheu ran t(’mt into the yard, but stopped suddenly short, petrified with fear at the sight that met her eyes. .* WEI-lug him inâ€"ioâ€"gently," Gustav was saying ; and two farm servants folluwed him, bearing between them the apparently lifeless hody of a young manâ€"the bead fallen back, the eyes closed, the lips parted, the bands hands hanging limply down, the clothes stained here and there with blood. “Run, away, child, run away! ’Tis no night for thee.” Gustav called out. when he saw her standing there white and frightened. “We want the nure e." Then he turned to the old wcmm‘ who had come out, and explained rapidly ; Liesâ€" chen, instead of running away, listened eagerly to every‘word : c u I u _, "-rr' 1 “There has beenaduelâ€"unlesa it was darker work. We found him in the wood up yonder, bleeding to death. Where can we lay him down? The nearer the betterâ€"â€" here on this sofa 2” 77 _ _ "Oh, anywhereâ€"yes I” cried Lieechen, brimming over with pity. And so they laid bun down on the sofa in aha little sitting room, and then Gustav, not unkindly, but quite irresistibly,pun Lieschen outside the door. She stood there with her hands pressed together, every nerve strained to interpref the sounds that came from within, halt muffled by the loud beating of her own heart. “Ach, Goth! If only he be not dead 1“ she murmured, as the stillness seemed to grow in(o‘erable. Then there came a low gasping moan of pain, and she heard Gustav any : I" , n _.., . "He is coming to : water now, and linen;” Then the old nurse came out hurriedly. her eye fell upon the girl‘s white face, and she sent her to fetch a. bundle of old linen from the press in the garret as quick as might be, while she heraelf yent fpr water. runguu we, wuuu nun “we-.. we..- .v. "-7-.. When Lieschen came flyin back the nurse had returned to the side 0 the wounds ed man, and she stole in after her with the linen. She could hardly repress the cry of pain and pity that rose to her lips when she saw the deathlike pallor of the face lying back on Gustav’s supporting shdulder ; but she felt that she must be very quiet if she would not draw attention to the fact the”. she had come in unbidden. “No doubt,” echoed Gustav : “but, noble (r not, he must die if we can’t staunch this bleeding at once. If only I had both hands free !" he muttered. exasperated at the tremuloua slowness of the old woman. “This won’t do. and not a soul in the house to help I here, Lieschen, you must be useful. Come and hold up his headâ€"so, aoâ€"upon your shoulder. Lucky I've seen so much of this in the war, and know what to be at," he remarked to himself. And Lisehen knelt and took the heavy. fainting head upon her bosom, and closed her eyes to shut out the sight of blood that almost 0v: rcame her. The nurse took the linen from her hands without noticing her at all, and then Gustay helped with his disengaged hand, gently un fastening and laying open the young man’t coat. disclosing a. white shirt all soaked with blood. “Cut ilkâ€"cut it 1” said Gus 1y ;_‘_‘_|;here'a go tjme gq‘bcs'e 7d I"\Vliat a pity I and the linen so fair and fine,” lamented the nurse, in an undertone. "The lad is noble! no flqubt." Now and then, when one of those asping moans broke from him. she opeueg them quickly. and gazed in tearful distress at the white face so near her own. and yet seeming, too, so far awayâ€"halfway into those cold domains of death that are so very far off to those that are strong and young. "Yes, he is noble,” she thought to herselt, trying to keep still and atieut, under the weight that began to ma'e her limbs ache and tremble. “His hair is like the sunshine. and all wavingâ€"like that picture of an angel in my Bible,” she thought, noting him curiously ;,“and)his forehead is so white that the veins show through. No doubt he is an oflioer,”â€"this she merely inferred from the nightly growth that fringed his upper lip,-â€""snd how beautiful he is l Gustav is handsome, but not like him ;" and she could almost have laughed at the idea. of a. comparison between great, broad Gustav, with his sun-browned face, flue roughlhewu features. and his red beard, and the delicate refinement and almost womanly fairness of the other face. At length Gustav released her, and laid the lad as he called himâ€"he looked about five-snd-tweutyâ€"gently down on the pillows. “He may do now,” he said, after watch- ing him a while. “I must: leave him to your care, nurse, and thnt of Herr Uterhart. You will explain itâ€"what little We knowâ€"when he returns to-night. Good~by, heart's darl- ing 1 Thou'lb be a first-rate nurse ere I come again," and he kissed his betrothed on either cheek, and went away. It was drawing towards evening. A familiar clatter of wooden shoes on the out- side told Lieachen it was time to go amilk- ina. She stole out, tied on her great sun- bonnet,took up her stool and pailmnd follow- ed the women away to the meadows, as she did morning and evening all the summer through. ' B-eiore going into the house, all her work done, she wandered through the iarden, under the heavy-laden syringa. and owery wildernesa of roses. down on to the sea- shore. and stood there, dreamly looking over the smooth water into the fading sky, and listening to the plash of the little waves falling on the sand. She thought of what Gustav had said about the mermaid, and thought it would be sweet to float away on the quiet tideI under the limxnering sky, and see the little stars lig t up one After another in the golden green up there, and watch the flights of birds winging over, and Iinging beaide the boats of filhermen at their nightly toil. and dip down at sunriseâ€"down. down among the senweed forest: where Th; shadows were growing very long and the colors fading in the Western sky when they came back ; and Lieschen still had her young ducks and towls to shut up for the night. As she cronsed and recrosaed the yardâ€"now with n can of water, now with the pail and stool ready for the morningâ€" she sang inashrill, sweet voice some of those lovely. plaintive volksliederâ€"those “songs of love and longing.“ of endless wan- dering, seeking. and yearning, that have sprung from the heart of the German pegpie. aaiq Gustav impatient strung. wild creatures swim in and out, End the ma flowers bloom, :nd the mermaids sit combing their long, golden hair under the tidelesl Baltic sea. She was a strange, romantic child. this Liescheu, full of dreams and longing fancies; and this seemed better to her than to be a creature of flesh and blood, with a human heart and hnmm hope and blesaed with the love of man. murmured ha.“ aloud, as the light died 013' the sea, “unless they strive to win an im- mortal soul by the love of a. living mm ; if they fail they vanish in the sea-foam on the day when he weds another. But there is never, never found a. man. He gives his love to a creature of his own sphere, and the foam ever gathers on the res. IE I were a. mermaid, though,"â€"a. shy, proud smile gleamed serous her face,â€"“1 would not ail.” Lieschen was sitting in the sick-roam one hot summer alternoou, her patient aslenp on the couch, and the warm. fragrant air float- ing in with the murmuring of bees at the open window. Her work lay in her .lap. but her hands were idle. and her eyes gazing dreamily out at the sky, while very, very low and softly, she sang: “‘War’ ich ein Vogelein." ‘ ‘ - e,, 17371-361; 1 brawn L" murmured a. voicu from the couch behind her. “A sweet voice and a sweet song I" Lieachen 'éolored at his praise and Almelt by his side. “I thought you were asleep. You are strongerâ€"you feel better, life is coming back 1” she said, in a. voice quite tremulous with joy. “Ach, Get“ you have been so ill : do you not know it 2" He smiled faintly. “How long have I been here 2” he asked. "Nearly three weeks,” she answered. "See how thin I" and she lifted up the hand that lay on the coverletland showed him how waited it had grown. He looked a: it with a. languid sort of curiosity, and then let it fall heavily by hi: hide, and turned his head on the pillbw to look at her. She was a. good night for sick eyes to rest upon, with her pretty brown hair, and great, gentle brown eyes so full of womanly pity, tenderness and submission, and, wiuhal, dreamy and wistfui as 31 child's eyes "Vifiegr child 1 I owe time my life. \Vhat c3971 girve tpgae _ot {infer thee 2': h “Yes.” she answerad, “and I have prayed for you when I thought you were dying, and see, the dear God has heard. You live and will grow well and strong avain.” "Indeed. I know not ; ’tis nothing I have done. only watching.” atammered Lieschen. “Tell me your name," and she rinsed her eyes to his: .. .. u 1 1 v She raised his head with one arm, and he drank the milk she held to his lips. Then she laid him down upon the pillows, and went back to her seat by the window, be watching her with the idle look of amen still too weak to speculate about things, or think any thoughts, but one or two that seemed of themselves to pass in and out of his brain. :‘ 2’ ;‘ “And who art thou. dear child?" he asked presently. “I am Eliao UterhaItâ€"Lieachen they call me. Thit. is my home ; I live here with my father and nurse, and keep the house.” “And hast thou nursed me all these Week '2” wiiégcihen blushed, her eyes {altered from his face, and she looked down in silence. r r uLu lava, auu Bun nuunuu uv n... u- vvvvvvvv “Nay, ask what thou wilt, ’tis thine, if I havg itg to_ gi‘v_e. ' . 4H8 tried to hold out his hand, and she put hers into it. “Let be, then, “he said, slowly ;" there is time enough. My name? is Otto von der Lanken : 1â€"” “Achl You are tired,” interrupted the girl, seeing a. helpless look come into his eyes as he broke off." Drink this, and do not_speak any more.” I y Licschen could think of no song but the one she had been singing when he woke, which was still running in her head and she sang it. “Sing:I then," he murmured, inclined to dictate his own terms, and watching her every gesture with panaive enjoyment; “sing to me.” Lieéihen smiled and shook her head at him. “Shut your eyed and sleep,” said she wit'l‘a preyty l_i_tqle authoritativefiir.’ Ach! wie lst'a moglich dann Daaa ich dich lassen kunn ‘2 “ Ah 1 can it ever be That I should part from thee YVhen she had finished she turned and looked at him, and saw tears standing in his 6Y9§:_‘ . . ‘ 1 d“ ’Tis very sweet,” he murmured, "and plain to flee that thou knowest what love is. Sing againâ€"4km last verse again." So she sang again : “ Were I a birdie wee. And by thy side would be, Fearing not hawk not kite. To thee swift l’d fl{. Pierced by the hun er’s dart. I'd nestle next thy heart ; If one tear dimmed thy eye. Glad then I’d die.” So the slow summer days went by. Every day he grew 3. little stronger, and by de- grees she gathered from him the story of the duel which had to nearly been fatal to him; how he and his friend had quarreled about a lady and had fought. “And the lady 2" asked Lieachen, breath- lossly. “I suppose they thought me dead and left me,” nid Otto. "One hm not much time to waste on these occasions. Poor Rudolf 1 He will have fled; but he can come back now, since no harm is dopgff “She will marry Rudolf no doubt." re- plied Otto, with a. hard laugh; “and I shall dance It the wedding," Lioschen said nothing; but the great, dark eyes thst rented on his face were lighted with a. new fire, a. burning worship. an unspeakable devotion' ; her heut bent, and her pulses thrilled with a. new, sweet, mylterious pain. The die was cast. 'At last there came a dayâ€"oh, those days, those few days that make up the earthly history of a. life! Some all in white and gulanded with frenh flower! of spring ; some flmin in gold and crowned with sun- coming slow y, surely on. each in its ap- pointed time, neither sooner for our longing nor later for our agony of fear ; and we can not choose but teke them all and hear them shine ; someâ€"some there must be â€" draped deep in blesk. There they are within the veiled future, till the lat lands hava run, end there are no more. There came a day when Otto von der Lankon bade farewell. He went through the gerden looking for his little nurse to lay good-by to her. butoould not findher;then he "‘vAnd th9y_ljve‘thr_eehun(_1refl_ y'ears'." 511° And he closed hif eyes ahd slept. as 'she lig'hy di'cdpfl' and went savlittle foot-marks inthe sandy path under the roan and nyringuthn led down on tojhe shore. He Iollowed them, and found Lies- chen standing by the tide looking out to sea. “Oh. not io~d§y T" oriea Lieschen, clasp- ing her hand: And looking up at him with her grth pibeoqg you 3 f‘qo-t- ‘30 soon I" 1 "uoch rja, liebes kind," he answered, kindly ; “I am well again and strong, thanks to my good little Lieechen, and it 1: time to be up and doing. And now,” he added, seeing the tears rush to her eyes, "now what can I do for thee, sweet child? Auk what thou wilt.” “Mencken,” he said, coming up to her, “17331 come to {my ggodey She 1‘ okad up at him a moment, standing there so mall and straight and fair, with the sun on his bright hair and the blue sky shining in his eyes, and than she put her hands over her face and aobbed aloud like a little child. “Donner 1" ejaculated the young count softly to bimmlf, in great perplexity. Then he drew a step nearer. “Dear little Lie- chen, don't cry. for pity’a sake! VVbat can I do for thee? Tell me.” "Oh, give me your loveâ€"your love l" she cried out pmionately. “Love ma, if only a little I" and than she broke down utterly and lemed her little brown head against hi5 armérying bitterly. “Why, thin: thou hast, dear oneâ€"not a little, buta. great deal. Who could help loving thee?" he answered aootbingly. L‘aAnk’ something harder, for my love than at. ’ After a long pan-e aha looked up through her tears. “And thou wiltâ€"thou wilt come bacflne day f_” _> "Why, surely.” said he, “I am not worth all those tears, pretty one! Be happy, right happy, till I come again. Adieu now. Iweet child! Auf Wiedersehen l auf baldig Wiederlehen 1” Ho stooped and kissed her on the forehead, and went away up the and, turning under thn syringan to wave another farewall. and than she heard his horse’s hoof: chattering up the yard, and he was gone. Gone 1 How it haunted her day after day in she passed in and out of the house, empty of his presence ; dowu the garden and the meadows, which knew his step and voice no more ; and upon the shore, where he had hidden her farewell I Weeks pass- ed before she at all turned from that feel- ing of missing him so sorely to the hope of his return. He had said “Auf Wieder- aeheni" Perhaps in a week. a. monthâ€" perhaps at harvest-timeâ€"perhaps at Christ- mASâ€"he would come, she thought, as the time went by. But he did not comeâ€"not even when it was spring, and the early leaves came out, and the clouds lifted and shone white in the young sunshine, and the birds sans: merri- ly._ Gustav came and went, and began to urge the marriage. Perhaps he saw that his be- trothed was losing the pretty roaes in her cheeks, and that the light in her eyes was growing sad and strange ; and heâ€"knowing as none but he knew how much he loved herâ€"longed to take her to himself in his own home and make her happy. So they fixed a day at last, and Lieschen, like one in a dream, helped the old nurse to make all preparations, and plied her needle bumly. All was ready at length, and two days before the wedding Lieschen stood on the shore. her work done, and no more to do but to wsit now for the dnwmng of the day that was to bring Gustav and make her his wife. “Thou wilt Tone .11, beehink thee wellâ€" all if thou fail. Thy father‘s :love, thy peaceful home, thy fair name, thy good, hOnest husbandâ€"all wxll be lost 1” As she stood there she seemed to hear a voicg‘anawefing her 0371! thppghtq: Sue want into the house and looked into the sitting room. There eat her father in his chair asleep, the pipe still between his fingers, and the room dim with smoke. Her lips seemed to frame some word they vainly sought to utter, and then with a choking, stifled eob, she turned and stole awayâ€" away out of the house, across the meadows, and on toward the shore of the other side of the promontory. on which lay her father’s farm. She Wes not strong, but something within her gave her power to walk all night r‘riAlas, alas, I know it 1" she answered, wepping ; “bpt I cgn got. will gqt {23H in the chill spring §veatben Long before noon next day she had caught the Scralsund steamer on its backward way. and was being crrried across the water to Sualaund. She felt no weenness, no hunger, thirst, or cold, and only longed to be on foot once more. She was quite femilar with the quaint old town, and hurried up the quay, across the Water street, and up under the dark, shadowy Zemlower gateway, 31mg the quiet streets where grass grows between the stones of the pavement, and the old qubled houses have looked down for hun- dreds of years upon the simple burgher life below. She went through the town and out into the country beyond, past many a plee~ sent little farm, where the storks were patching up their great nests on the thatch ed barns and cow-houses, and making their curious rattling cry as they flew to and fro. She remembered that the storks used to bring summer in old days end all good gifts when they came back, and that this spring they had not yet come to her home on Ru- gen. In one little village she asked fore drink of milkI and they made her eat and rest 3 little while ; but she was restless and anxious to be gone, so they let her go, though the wind was rising and blowing sharp and keen, and little flakes of snow were flying through the air. By nightfall a fierce storm was blowing, and the air wa.s thick with driving snow. Lzegcben asked shelter at a. farm lying a. lit- tle back from the high road. "What, hast thou friends at Friedenhng- an? In the service of the Cuuut von der Lmlgan, jhen 2” ed. “Yea; I have a. friend there,” answered the girl, with a faint smile. “In it far now ?" “Why thou wilt not walk it, surely? ’Tis a good four hour: from here.” V‘Oh, I am very strong,” answered Leis- chen bravely. “Only let me sleep here, and then I shall ba able to do it." So she slept chore ; but vary early in the morning she rose and stole away out on the navy rosd in the cutting, pitileal wind, leaving behind her as a token of her grati- tude, the only thing she had to giveâ€"her bang-tbs! ring. “She bunâ€"a and abory, doubtless, oor thing 1" aid the good poople, shaking t oi: How far is it to Fk‘iedenhagen Y” she ask heads over is ; and they put it away, and forgo: allrabou‘ it And her. ing towud noon, 3 then the walls and turrets of the great ‘ehlons Friedenhagen rose dimly through the falling unow. At eVery step her tired feet grew heavier, the snow glared upon her aching eyes, and the cold winds seemed to pierce her through and through ; but still she struggled on, and stood at length under the great porteco- chere, and rang the bell. She had no thought of her soiled and draggled clothes, or of the impreeaion she might make upon the servants ; no thought at all of them, but only of him, of Otto Von der Lmken, and that another moment must bring them face to face. Meanwhile she pr%fi4 on till it was drew- She heard bells ringing merrilyâ€"was it only phanton music in her tired brain? And then the door opened, and a rough voice demanded her business and her name. “Who are you, and what are you here abgut up such a. d_a.y_as t_hi§ Lieschen vaguely fancied he was referring to the snow, and timidly naked to see the young Herr Graf. The man laughed aloud. "A pretty request, truly 2 Come another dny, mein frnuleiu. Know you not that the young Herr an ha! just brought home his bride, and is to-dny receiving the congratu- lations of all his noble friends 2 The gm. cious lord would be somewhlc (astonished, I take it, to see a. beggar-maiden like you among the train. Make way. make way ;" and he pushed her hastily aside as a. gay carriage came rolling up the drive. Lieschen turned away faint, stunned, ex- hausted, broken-hearted, and the guests went laughing and chatting up the steps and into the great hall, and the door was shut. Two days later a big. broad‘shouldered man. with a sun-brownld face and a red beard, came riding along the snowy road toward Friedenhagen. The storm was over, but the great drixts still lay plied by the roadsideâ€"deep, broad, and white. The green buds 0! spring were withered on the Dough: ; sullen cloudl moved slow against the leaden sky, and huddled in great banks about the south and west ; it was freezing, but the bitter wind was still. The horse- man's face was sad and stem, and he looked absently at the snow as he rode along. when suddenly ngreat cry broke from his lips. He flung down the reins and sprang to the ground. A “fly” fellowâ€"The angler. High artâ€"The labors of the hanging com- mitte. A regular poserâ€"The photographer. V The blind pool is a poor place for smal ' “Acb. nimmermehr! Ach, du meir Gott! Liesohen, Lieschenl my little Lien Chan !" For there, covered but not hidden by the snow, he discovered somethingâ€"something that told him allhalmo at before his eyes had fully seen itâ€"â€"a few shadows, a few curved lines, a eweepinv tress of dark-brown hair. He fell down beside the still, unheeding form, and put back the matted hair that was blown serous her face. and kissed the frozen eyes, the frozen pitted lips, and the little frozen hands in vain; dead, stark dead, his little Lieechenâ€"frozen in the drift- ed snow. That was the end of it all. He saw his ring was gone from her hand, but how or why he could not guess. He only knew he had fled from her wedding-day Ind from him, and dimly felt that Otto von der Lan- ken might be the causeâ€"whether innocent or guilty he could not tell, and little cared to know. since all Was lost. And Otto von der Lmken never knew. "That pretty child will have forgotten me,” he said once to himself that spring, when something reminded him of his pro- mise at parting from her.” and will have married the good Baier by this time, or I might send for her to wait upon my wife.” Reducing the price of gas has no effect or the met ms. fry. A man wnthont a. futureâ€"a buryted stoc broker. “Ham a man’s head swim! there is gener‘ ally more watsr than whiskey about it. \Vrangell [and appears to be an appropri ate deatination for the J cannons survivors Of all sad words. the bankers say the sad‘ debt are these, “ We can not pay." The speculatJr loses hope when he lose: ” soap." Darwin says thsre is a living principle in fruit. We suppose he refers to the worms. "Amature actor” is informed that fly first supe mentioned in history is Godfre; do Boulllon. There is A man in Kentucky who ham" 3 bone in his body. What a splendid bu ball umpire he would nuke. It ain't whut a man knows er 'bout hisse'. dat makes him feel proud. It’s whut hc ’magines udder people thinks 0’ him. Never speak ill of aman if you can help it If you must say something bad be sure th‘ oxther side pays your witness fee. A new kind of monster potatais called thl “white elephant." This is carrying th; adulterahion of food a little too far. It is a foolish girl who will ask her love which he likes beat, her beauty or brain: No mater which way he answors she is sub to get mad. When: man falls in business there i nothing like having a. wife to own the tea entata ; and if there is tgo much of that fo ona wife to own, he ought to have two 0 three wives. There was a. girl with a line voice but E001- ear living in the fist above him whe] ellini composed that tender u'ia in “ Son nambuh,” “Still no gently o’er me squeal ing.” Anybody who has examined a doctJr‘ handwriting on a prescript on will not WOI der that a drug clerk frequently pntl up mo: phine when the recips calls for carrawaj seed or some such harmless drug. “ Will you hnve routbeefcombeefroas‘ porkporkmdbeanshamandbaconorhash’” m; tled the pretty waitress to Jone: the fin night at his new boarding house. The best ful man blushed and remuked that “ he b1 lieved he would, thuka.” 0111 how tired and weak I (eel. I don't believe I I ever get through this Spring house-cleaning I 01: yea y will i! you take a bottle or two of Dr. Carson's Scorn. Bitters to purl]! your blood and tone up the system. large bottle: 50 cents. Queen of the MLyâ€"the scrub-giri. LLL SORTS.