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~ 74 But Mr. Weeks soon found that he could no: cu‘ry out his summary measures. The "widow was bent on negotiations and binding agreements. In a stiff, cramped hand, she "Wrote to Holcroft in regard to the amount; «of “ Salary” he would be willing to pay, in- timating than one burdened with such re- rsponsilniitics as she was expected to assume "“ or: to be compmllsiated proposhuudly.” ‘Weeks groaned as he despatched his son \m horseback with this first epistle, and Holcroft groaned as he read it, not; on acâ€" counb of its Illarvellous spoiling and con- struction, but by reason of the vista of per- plexities and trouble it opened to his boding mind. But he named on 11wa a. sheet of paper as large a. sum as he felt it possible to pay and leave any chance for himsaif. than affixed his signature and sent it back by the messenger. CHAPTER III.â€"Mr.s. MUMPsox NEGO- TlATES AND YIELDS. Mr. \Veeks, on his return home, dropped all diplomacy in dealing with the question at issue. “ Cyntlly,” he said, in his own v: rnacufar, ‘ the end has con e so far as me and mv folks are coneerned,â€"I never ex ect to vi~it you, and while I‘m master 0 the house, no more visits will be received. But I haiu’t taken any such stand oneonsidera‘e- ‘ 1y,” he corcluded. “ I’ve given up Lhe whole forenoon to secure you a. better chance of living than visiting around. If you go to Holcroft’s, you’ll have to do somework, and l so will your girl. But he‘ll hire some one i to help you. and so’you won‘t have to hurt ‘ yourself. Your trump card will be to hook . him and marry him before he finds you out. I To do this, you'll have to see to the house ' and dairy, and bestir yourself for a time at least. He’s pretty desperate off for lack of woman-folks to look after indoor matters, { but he’ll sell out and clear out before he’ll : keep awoman, much less marry her, if she i does nothing but talk. Now, remember, you‘ve got a. chance which you won’t get ; again, for Holcroft not only owns his farm, ( but has a snug sum in the bank. So you l had better get your things together, and go i right over while he’s in the mood.” The gidow Mumpson wished to talk over this first point between the high contracting powers indefinitely, but Mr. \Vceln rener- ed, cynically, “ It‘s double What I thought he’d offer, and you’re lucky to have it in black and white. Now that every thing‘s settle'l, Timothy will hitch up and take you and Jane up there at once.” 1 “ \ (, write your letter ahouta year’s engagement. That’ll settle for you for a twelve month, at _leabt.”. ...‘_V,V.V \Vhen Mrs. Mumpson reached the blank wall of the inevitable, she yielded, and not before. She saw that the \Veeks mine was worked out completely, and she knew that this exhaustion was about equally true of all similar mines which had been bored until they would yield no further returns. «.a But Mrs. Mumpszm now began to insist upon writing a letner in revard to her do- : A m L “rm _ .v , V [1103th 8'21“?! and that of her child. They could not think of being looked upon as ser- vants. She also wished to be assured that a. girl would be hired to help her, that she shonl-l have all the church privileges to which she had. been «Locustomed and the right to visit. and entertain her friends, which meant every farmer’s wife and all the maiden sisters in Oekville. “And then,” she continued, “ there are always little perâ€" quisites which a housekeeper has a. right to look for ”â€"Mr. Weeks irritany put; a. per- iod to this phase of diplomacy by saying, “ Well, well, Cynthy, the stage will be along in a couple of hours. \Ve’ll put you and your things aboard and. you can go 011 with what you call your negotiations at cousin Abiram’s. I can tell you one thing thougli,â€"-if you write any such letter to Holcroft, you’ll never hear from him again.” n 1 1 "5,” .0. .11 um-" “.‘Al:m:.‘ Mrs. Mumpson againbegan the slnw,la.bor- ious construction of a. letter in which she dwelt upon the- uncertainties of life, her “ duty to her offspring,” and the evils of “ vicissitude.” “ A stable home is woman’s chief desire,” she concluded, “ and you will surely agvee to [my me the salary you have said for a. yqar.” .... 1 .,“ bCompelled to give up all these prelimin- aries, but inwardly resolving to gain each point by a nagging persistence of which she was a mistresa, she finally declared that she “ must have writings about one thing which couldn't be left to any man’s changeful mind. He must; agree to give me the monthly salary he names for at; least a year." --- . .. ‘ . Weeks thought a. moment, and then, with a. shrewd twinkle in his eyes, admitted, “It would be a good thing to have Holcroft’s name to such an agreement. Yes, ytu might try that on, but you're taking a. risk. If you were not so penny wise and pound foolish you’d go at once and manage to get him to take you for ‘ better or worse.” In aw.“ “u \Vhen Holcroft read this second epistle he so far yielded to his first impulse that he half tore the sheet, then paused irresolutely. After a few moment-s he went to the door and looked out upon his acres. “ It'll soon be ploughing and planting time,” he thought, “ I guess I can stand herâ€"at least I can try it for three months. I’d like to turn a few more furrows on the old place,” and his face softened and grew wistful as he 100ked at the bare, frost-bound fields. Suddenly it darkened and grew stern as hef muttered, “ But I’ll put my hand to no more paper with that Weeks tribe” “ You mlsjudge me, cousin Lemuel,” re- plied the widow, bridling and rocking vio- lently. “ If there’s any such taking to be done. he must get; me to take him.” 1,. u He strodé éérthe stable, saying to Timothy Weeks, as he passed, “ I’ll answer this let- ter in person.” ‘m. .u 1 , "7,,73 uvn. u. c...w.. Away centered Timothy, and soon caused a flutter of expectancy in the Weeks house- hold, by announcing that “ old Holcroft looked black as a. thunder cloud and was comin’ himself.” “I tell you what ’tis, Cynthy, it’s the turn of a hair with you now,” growled Weeks. “Unless you agree to whatever Holcroft says, you haven’t a. ghost of a. chance.” fl‘he widow felt that a crisis had indeed come. Cousin Abiram’s was the next place in the order of visitation, but her last exper- ience there left her in painful doubt as to a. future reception. Therefore she tied on a. new cap, smoothed her apron, and rocked with unwanted rapidity. “ It’ll be accord- ing to the ordering of Providence”â€" A WOLF IN THE FOLD A DOMESTIC STORY WITH A MORAL. Mrs. \Veeks had been in a pitiable state of mind all day. She Saw that her husband had reached the limit of his enduranceâ€"- that he had virtually already “ flown off the handle.” But to have her own kin act- ually bundled out f the lio1ise~\w'liat would people say ? cceptanoe of Hol- l croft‘s terms, whatever they might be, was the only way out of th - awkward predica- ment, and so she began in a wheedling tone, “ Now, cousin Cynthy, as Lemuel ; says, you‘ve got a first rate chance. Hol- ‘, croft’s had an awful time with women, and he’ll be glad enough to do well by anyone ; who does fairly well by him. Everybody » says he’s well off, and once you’re fairly there and get things in 'your own hands, there's no telling what may happen. He’ll 1 get a. girl to help you, and J ane’s big enough i now to do a. good deal. Why you’ll be the ‘i same as keeping house like the rest of us.” n" “ I’m glad to see you, sir, she began. “ It’s very considerate of you to come for me. I can get ready in short order, and as for Jane, she’s never a. bit of trouble. Sit down, sir, and make yourself to home while I get our things together and put on my bonnet ;” and she was about to hasten from the room. She, too, had been compelled to see that Holcroft’s farmhouse was the only certain refuge left, and while she had rocked and waited the thought; had come into her scheming mind, “ I’ve stipulated to stay a, year, and if he says nothing against it, it’s a. bargain which I cam manage to keep him to in spite of himself, even if I don’t marry him.” Mr. and Mrs. Weeks now resolved to ap- pear neutral and allow the farmer to make his terms. Then, like other superior pow- ers in the background, they proposed to ex- ert a pressure on their relative and do a lit- tle coercing. But the widow’s course pro- mised at first to ‘relieve them of all further efllrt. She suddenly seemed to become aware 3f Holcroft’s presence, sprang up and gave him her hand very cordially. But the straightforward former was not to be caught in such a. trap. He had come himself to say certain words and he would say them. 'He quietly, therefore, stood in the door and said, “ Wait a. moment, Mrs. Mumpson. It’s better to have aplain under- standing in all matters 0f business. \Vhen I’ve done, you may conclude not to go with me, for I want to say to you what I said this morning to your cousin, Lemuel \Veeks. I’m glad he and his wife are now present as witnesses. I’m a plain man, and all I want is to make a livln’ oil the farm I’ve been brought up on. I’ll get a girl to help you with the work. Between you, I’ll expect it to be done in a. Way that the dairy will yield a fair profit. We'll try and see how we get; on for three months and not a. year. I’ll not bind myself longer than three months. Of course, if you manage well, I’ll be glad to have this plain business arrange- ment go on as long as possible, but its all a. matter of business. If I can’t make my farm pay, I‘m going to sell or rent and leave these parts.” “ 0h, pshaw l” interrupted cousin Leâ€" muel, “ it’ll be according to whether you‘ve gof’alny sens.e 0f not.” “ 0h, certainly, certainly, Mr. Holcroft. You take a. very sensible View of the mat- ter. I hope you will find that I will do all that I agree to and a. great deal more. I’m a little afraid of the night air and the incle- ment season, and so will hasten to get mysslf and my child ready,” and she passed quick- ly out. \Veeksput his hand to his mouth to con- ceal a grin as he thought, “ She hasn’t agreed to do anything that I know on. Still, she’s right; she’ll doa. sight more than he expects, but it won’t be just what he ex- pects.” Mr. Weeks, much pleased at the turn of affairs, became very affable, but confined his remarks chiefly to the Weather, While Holcroft, who had an uneasy sense of being overreaeled in some undetected way, was abstracted and laconic. He was soon on the road home, however, with Mrs. Mump- son and Jane. Cousin Lemuel’s last whis- pered charge was, “ N ow, for mercy’s sake, do keep your tongue still and your hands busy.” Mr. \Veeks followed her relative to ex- pedite matters, and it must be confessed that the gathering of Mrs. Mumpson’s be- longings was no heavy task. A small hair trunk that had come down from the remote past held her own and her child’s wardrobe and represented alltheir worldly posses- sums. \Vhatever possibilities there may be for the Ethiopian or the leopard, there was no hope that Mrs. Mumpson would materially change any of her characteristics. The chief reason was that she had no desire to change, A more self-complacent person did not exist in Oahville. Good traits in other people did not interest her. They were insipid, they lacked a. certain pungen- cy which a dash of evil imparts ; and in the course of her minute investigations she had discerned or surmised so much that was re- prehensible that she had come to regard herself as singularly free from sins of omis- sion and commission. “ What have I ever done?” she would {’Sk in her selfâ€"commun- ings. The question implied so much truth of a certain kind that all her relatives were in gall and bitterness as they remembered the weary months during which she had rocked idly at their firesides. With her, talking was as much of a necessity as breath- ing, but during the ride to the hillside farm she, in a. sense, held her breath, for a keen March Wind was blowing. Further discussion was cut short by the arrival of the victim. He stood awkward- ly in the door of the Weeks sitting-room for a. moment, seemingly at a loss how to state his case. She was so quiet that Holcroft grew hope- ful, not realizing that the checked flow of words must have a freer course later on. A cloudy twilight was deepening fast when they reached the dwelling. Holcroft’s mar- ket-wagon served for the general purposes of conveyance, and he drove as near as pos- sible to the kitchen door. Descending from the front seat, which he had occupied alone, he turned and offered his hand to assist the widow to alight, but she nervously poised herself on the edge of the vehicle aud seem- ed to be afraid to venture. The wind flut- tered her scanty draperies, causing her to appear like a bird of prey about to swoop It would not be their fault if they were not soon able to find every thing. Mrs. Mumpson‘s first act was to take the candle and survey the room in every nook and corner. She sighed when she found the closet and bureau drawers empty. Then she examined the quantity and texture of the bedding of the “ couch on which she was to repose” as she would express herself. J ane followed her around on tiptoe, doing just what her mother did but was silent. At last they shivered in the fireless apart- ment, threw ofi' their scanty wraps and Went down to the kitchen. Mrs. Mumpson instinctively looked around for a. rocking- chair, and as none was visible she hastened to the parlor, and, holding the candle aloft, surveyed this apartment. Jane followed in her wake as before, but at last ventured to suggest, “ Mother, Mr. Holcroft’ll be in soon and want his supper.” ' “ Just Wait a. minute, please,” said Hol- croft, “ and I’ll bring the lamp and a. candle.” This he did with the deftness of a man accustomed to help himself, then led the way to the upper room which was to be her sleeping apartment. Placing the candle on the bureau. he forestalled Mrs. Mumpson by saying, “ I’ll freshen up the fire in the kitchen and lay out the ham, eggs, cofi'ee and other materials for supper. Then I must go out and unharness and do my night work. Make yourselves to home. You’ll soon be able to find everything,” and he hastened away. “ I suppose he’ll want a great many thingsj’ replied Mrs. Mumpson, with dig- nity, “but he can’t expect a. lady of my connections to fly around like a. common servant. It is but natural, in coming to a. new abode, that I should Wish to know something of that abode. There should have been a hired girl here ready to receive andget supper for us. Since there is not one to receive us, bring that rocking-chair, my dear, and I will direct you how to pro- ecd.” - The child did as she was told, and her mother was soon rocking on the suuggiest side of the kitchen stove, interspersing her rather bewildering orders with various re- flections and surmises. down upon the unprotected man. ufraifl to jpmp so fari’ishei began. “ Theré’s tile stem-Mrs. Mufnpson.” , .“ But I can’t see it. Would you mind lifting pie dgwn‘?" He hastilylifted out her daughter, and said. “ You had better hurry in to the fire. I’ll be back in a few minutes," and he led his horses down to the barn, blanketed and tied them. When he returned, he saw two dusky figures standing by the front door which led to the lit/ole hall separating the kitchen from the parlor. “ Bless me l”; he exclaimed. “ You haven’t been standing here all this time '3" “ It’s merely due to a. little oversight. The door is locked, you see, and”â€" “ But the kitchen door is not locked.” “ Well, it didn’t seem quite natural for us to enter the dwelling on the occasion of our1 first arrival by the kitchen entrance, an )7â€" Sketching the child Jane is a sad task, and pity would lead us to soften every touch if this could be done in truthfulness. She was but twelve years of age, yet there was scarcely a trace of childhood left in her colorless face. Stealthy and cat-like in all her movements, she gave the impression that she could not do the commonest thing except in a sly, c3wering manner. Her small, greenish-gay eyes appeared to be growing nearer together with the lapse of time, and their indirect, furtive glances sug- gested that they had hardly, if ever, seen looks of frank atfection bent upon her. She had early learned, on the round of visits with her mother, that so far from bein wel- come she was scarcely tolerated, and s re re- minded one of a. stray cat that comes to a. dwelling and seeks to maintain existence there in a. lurking, deprecatory manner. Her kindred recognized this feline trait, for they were accustomed to remark, “She’s always snoopin’ around.j’ She could scarcely do otherwise, poor child ! there had seemed no place for her at any of the firesides. She haunted halls and passage-ways, sat: in dusky corners, and kept her meagre little form out of sight as much as possible. She was the last one helped at table when she was permitted to come at all, and so had early learned to watch, like a cat, and when people’f backs were turned, to snatch something, carry it off, and devour it in secret. Detected in these pilferings, to which she was almost driven, she was regarded as even a greater nuisance than her 1501311811 The latter was too _much preoccupied to give her child attention. Ensconced in a rocking-chair in the best room, and always in full tide of talk if there was any one pre- sent, she rarely seemed to think where J aue was or what she was doing. The rounds of visitation gave the child no chance to go to school, so her developing mind had little other pabulum than what her mother sup- plied so freely. She was acquiring the same consuming curiosity, with the redeeming feature that she did not talk. Listening in unsuspected places, she heard much that was said about her mother and herself, and the pathetic part of this experience was that she had never known enough of kind- ness to he wounded. She was only made to feel more fully how precarious was her foot- hold in her transient abiding place, and therefore was rendered more furtive, sly and distant in order to secure toleration by keeping out of every one’s way. In her prowlings, however, she managed to learn and understand everything that was going on even better than her mother, who, be- coming aware of this fact, was acquiring the habit of putting her through a whispered cross-questioning when they retired for the night. It would be hard to imagine a child beginning life under more unfavorable aus- pices, and still harder to predict the out- come. Hev impatiently took her by the arms, which seemed in his grasp like the rounds of tho‘aéchairl aqd put heir on_ the gro_u_nd. Holcroft, with a grim look, strode through the kitchen and unlocked the door. “ Ah l” exclaimed the widow. “ I feel as if I was coming home. Enter, Jane, my dear. I’m sure the place will soon cease to be strange to you, for the home feeling is rapidly acquired when”â€" vuc‘xyuuu. auu Pun Mr; uu uuu sluuuu. “-Oh l” she exclaimed, in gushing tones, “ there’s nothing to equal the strong arms of a man." In she course of her close watchfulness she had observed how many of the domes- tic labors had been performed, and she would have helped more in the various households if she had been given a. chance ; but the housewives had not regarded her as sufficiently honest to be trusted in the pan- tries, and also found that if there was a. 7‘ \Véel, I’Vm share We ocht tae be thankfu’ for that same; altho’, if there Wis a bit pun 0’ coffee I widna object. VVeel, guid day tae ye! guid day l” and I cam’ oot. He jumpit ower the coonber, and grippit me at the door, and shook me, and says, “The money, sir 1”‘ Last Saturday Betty and me were oot getting our provisions, and, in ga’ing alang a street in the Sooth Side, Betty grippit me by the arm, and pointing tac a shop window, says, “ Guid keep us, Jeems ! d’ye see that? Sugar for naething !” “Eh! what’s that 9” I says, getting out my specs. “That’s extraomar; trade must be dull atweel when the’ve me gie awa’ the goods for nuething. My ccrty, it’s a new gemm this. Puir bodies! 1100 can they afford a.’ that gas and a. big rent? Betty,” I cries, “ye ken I’ve never grudged the fair price for onything Ibuy ; but when folk offer ye a. thing for naething I wid be staunin’ in my eiu licht if I didna. tak’ it. Gie me the basket and I’ll go in an get eight pun’, and after I come ,oot ye can slip in and get anither eight pun’; it’ll no look see greedy like. Jist wait a. wee.” And in I goes. “I’ll tak’ eight pun, 0’ that sugar 1” I says “ Certainly, sir.” Putting it in the basket, I shut doon the lid and turned. “Hey,” ‘cries the lad at the back 0' the coonter, “ye’ve forgot the tea. 1 There’s twg pun 0’ tea gqes alangjgi’ that I’i “ Save us, tea. !-â€"tea, did ye say? Great criftens, this hates all! Tea! Certainly I’ll take the tea,” and I held up the‘lid 0’ the basket and he popped in a. package 0’ tea, a.’ ready made up. I thoct it was vem fortunate I had seen the shop before the unemployed got word 0’ it, or they wid a. keen it a.’ rookit oot More I got near’t. “Is there naethin’ elseâ€"coffee, or ony- “ No 2” he says ; “ it’s just the tea and sugar go _t11_9git}}er.” “ Money l” says I, erfectly dumfonndexn ed, “ ye ne’er said tiere wis ony money ; but it's no ower late yet! H00 much dae ye gie? Ye’re a perfect angel in thae bad times. I hope the money’s no spurious.” “Ye‘ve tac gie me the money,” he says. “ Me!” I says ; “ money for what ?” “ For the tea,” he says. “ Did ye no say it went alang wi’ the sugar ‘2” “ Certainly.” “ And didna ye say ye gied the sugar for naethin’Y” “ Yes.” “ And what’s the money for, then?” “ For the tea,” he says, getting angry. “N00, look here,” I says, pulling him intae a. close act 0’ the crood, “let us under stan’ each other. Tae begin at the beginning, did ye no say ye gied sugar for naethin’ 1’" “ We do.” “ \Veel, so faur, so good ; ye gied me my sugar for naethin’, and when I wis coming oot ye cried after me that ye gied tea. alang Wi’ the sugar.” “ But ye’re tae pay for the tea. “ Tut, tut ! will I hue tea begin again? N00, look here, and pay attention ! Dinne ye 'ca’ me back when I was gaun oot well enough pleased wi’ the sugar, and no askin’ for tea, and said ye gied tea alang wi" the sugar ‘3” “I did.” “ Weel, and hadna, ye gien me the sugar for naething T" “ I had.” “ \Veel, and what hae ye tae say for your- sel’, eh? It’s no the Worth o’t, min’ ye; but I’m no a. man tae be made a. fule o’t; hooever, there’s my cardâ€"ye can summon me, but I’m thinking ye’ll get the warst o’t. No, no l I Wisna. born yesterday. I thocht there Wis some juckry~pockry aboot it. Come awa’, Betty, here’s oor caur.” Sugar for Nothing. , , The English weekly newspaper Tit-Bits, lately offered a, prize for the best little story in the Scotch brogue. Following is the sketch to_which_ the Premillm was awarded : thing ‘3 Spurred by fear of, such a. dire possibility, Mrs. Mumpson was bustling around when Holcroft entered. “ We’ll soon be ready,” she gushed, “we’ll soon place our evening repast upon Rho table.’: 7‘ V6113} well,” was the brief reply. as he passed up the stairs with the small hair trunk on his shoulder. The Total Eclipse of 1887. The year 1887 has in store for astronomers a. total eclipse of the sun, which can be ob- served from convenient stations in Europe. This eclipse occurs on the 18th of August and the line cf totality passes through Ber- lin and a. liitle to the north of Moscow. The event will give astronomers an excellent opportunity to pursue their studies of the sun’s surroundings. We believe excellent results might be obtained in determining the extent of the sun’s surroundings by the use of rapid photograph lenses of wide angles, in ordinary cameras. A lens of six inches focus would produce a very small image of tae sun, but would include a wide field of the heavens, and with very rapid plates, the faint illumination about the sun might be photographed. She now aisplayed, however, more sense than her mother." The'hxbi’d'of élose scrut- iny had made it: clear that Holcroft would not long endure genteel airs and inefficiency; and that something must he done to keep this shelter. She did her best to get sup- per, with the aid given from the rocking- chair, and at last broke out sharply, “ You must get up and help me. He’ll turn us out of doors if we don’t have supper ready when he comes in.” semblance of return for such hospitality as they extended, Mrs. Mumpson would re- main indefinitel , Moreover” the homely‘ silent child ma." e the women nervous, just as her mother irritated" the men, and they did not want her around. This she had come to be butxfi‘ie spectre of a, child,'know- ing little of the good in the world and as much of the evil as she could understand. 1 1 A lady in Albuqueraue, N. M., avers that after she had purchased a fine fat turkey, lately she found in its entrails a snake not less that six inches long and, fearing that the reptile, though dead, had poisoned the fowl, she exchanged it with her grocer for another turkey, and that upon opening the second bird she found a larger snake With two young ones, all three dead. She says the reptiles were of the striped variety and were venomous looking. The lady is one whose statements can be relied upon. She ate no turkey. The Fire Bells Ring out an alarm and it. is heeded. This is to notify you that base substitution is practised when the great, sure~pop corn cure is asked for. Putnam’s Painless Corn Ex- tractor never fails to take corns off. It makes no sore spots and gives no pain. Be sure and get “ Putnam’s.” Found Snakes in the Turkeys. 9n (TO BE CONTINUED.) She carried the “ weltenough” system into her music studies also, and of course it did not work well there. She was fond (f music, learned with great ease, and played spiritedly, but her performance was spoiled by the way she had of dropping notes and slurring over hau‘d passages which she was too lazy to practice sufficiently. It was in vain her teacher lectured her about such carelessness, and told her she must practice the difficult parts patiently until she could plav them as rapidly as the rest; out of his hearing she played them in her own fashion and said it did well enough. “ it won’t do until it is done just as well as you can do it,” Mrs. Blair would reply, and many a. piece of Work the young lady was obliged to pick out and do over.” It; was the same Way with sewing. Mrs. Blair insisted that the girls should know how to sew, and Georgie learned very readi- ly, but was so careless .and so easily satis- fied that her work often looked very badly, and firms 3. great worry to her mother. The pillows were placed crooEedly on the bed,.the towels llun on, the rack without being folded, all the ureau drawers open a. 1itt16‘,“aqd a piece of string hanging out of “ 0h ! wan’t it do Vi’ell enough, manlma ‘2" Georgie would say. “ What’s the use of being so avyfu_lly pagticubr ‘3" “ “"hat is that you at; playing?” Eliza. beth asked one time. “ It is that new galop Mary Haines play- ed the other evening,” Georgie replied. “ Isa: it,pret,t.y 2:: “Yes,” saidv Elizabeth, “but it doesn’t sound jg_st_a.s_ it_diq when Mary playfed “ “7e11, I don’t play it exactly as she did. You see the bass skips about so that I have to go down {or the lower F’s and B flats. I can’t play fast enough, so I just play them all up here, and then I don’t play the oc- taves in the right 112,nd_just take the upper note.” Her father had a scrap-book, in which he pasted newspaper articles he wished to keep. Sometimes when he was busy he asked Elizabeth to paste the pieces in, and this she did very neatly. Once, when she was away from home, he said: “Georgie, won’_t_ you put these pieces. in my‘hook ‘2” . If We are to have drunkards in the future, some of them are to come from the boys to whom I am writing ; and I ask you again if you want to be one of them : No l of course you don’t ! “ Oh, it will do well enough." This was a. favorite phrase of Georgia’s. She used it upon all occasions, and lived up to it 100. When she was 13, her mother gave her a. litcle bedroom all to herself, which she was to keep clean and in order Wilh her own hands. One morning she was in were putting on her coat and hat in great haste to go to suhool. Her mother, happen- ‘Tnz to be pissing, opened the door ani look- ed in. o“0h, this Lsminds well enough,” said Georgie, and banged away, perfectly satis- fied. “ Yés, sLir, of coul‘Ee,” she reblied, quite prglld @o be {mskedz This is about the way Georgie does every- thing, and if she does not break herself of this bad habit of doing things just any way at all, she is not likely to grow up to be a. very useful and reliable woman. v Well, I, have a. plan for you that is just as sure to save you from such a. fate as the sun is to rise to-morrowmorning. It never fail- ed ; it never will fail ! and I think it is worth knowing. Never touch liquor in any form. That is the plan, and it is not only worth knowing, but it is worth putting into prac- tice. “ Why, Ge: raie !” she exclaimed, “ Why didnlt yquwput your room in 9rder ?”_ “AI-did,” saizl Georgie, going on button- ing with rapid fingers. 7‘ My deatr chila, just look at it l” said hegmotllqr, with an qxprqssive >ges_t.ure. A one, etc! “'Oh, mamma !" Georgie exclaimed, impa- tiently, “it will do well enough; I‘m in snail}. hurry. I 81133.11 _be late at_sch99_1.” _ ” You mast not be late at school,” said her mother, “ but you must put your room incomplete order as soon as you come home. I (1011’: Wth you to get into the habit cf doing things just half.” “ Seems to me,” said her sister, “ it would be better to go slower at first and learn it right2 _so a_s p0 play it as it is written.” ‘ He showed her how he wanted it done, and she set to work. At first she was very careful to get them all straight and smooth, so the first page she did was just as good as any of Elizabeth’s; but soon she became tired of going so slowly and particularly, and began to slight the work. There were two 01' three little bits that were very hard to fit nicely, and instead of persevering until they were right she hurried them in any way, saying to herself : “ Oh, well, it won’t matter if such httle bits are crooked. It will look well enough.” But it looked very bad, the crooked piece spoiling the whole page. “7 hen her father looked at the book he said : “ I’m very much obliged to you, Georgie; butâ€"~I’m afraid my little girl hasn’t a, very straight eye.” “ (5h, yes: 1 hive, pupa, said Georgie. “I know those pieces are a, little crooked, but it is so very little I thought you wouldn’t: mind.” Her father said nothing more, but he never asked her again to paste in pieces, and once when he brought out the book to Show a. certain political article to a- gentleman he was talking with, she noticed he turned the botched page over very quickly, as if he was ashamed of it.» I know you don’t drink now, and it seems to you as if you never would. But your temptation will come, and it probably will come in this way : You will find yourself, some time, with a, number of companions, and they wil1 have a. bottle of wine on the table. They will drink and offer it to you. They will regard it as a manly practice, and very likely look upon you as a milksop if you don’t indulge with them. Then what will you do ‘3 Eh, what will you do ‘3 ‘Vill you say, “ No, no! none of that stuff for me! I know a. trick worth half a dozen of that!” or will you take the glass with your own common sense protesting and your con- science making the whole draught bitter and a. feeling that you have damaged yourself, and then go 011' with a hot head and a. skull:- ing soul that at once begins to make apolo- gies for itself and will keep doing so during all its life? Boys, do not become drunkj ards. A \VORD To THE BOYS YOUNG FDLKS. 1M} ATI ENT G EORGIE.