CHEATED.

B Y AMANDA M. HALE

laTHA Hambubton sat in a balconied ■ dowatSeacliff and looked out-over the I Jjjijjjg, shining sea, lying purple in the set&lig]lt > glooming dark far across T e breakers, and sweeping in white ! m upon the sands with its endless solemn note. • , • , , A young, proud, passionate girl, she a herself with sweet hopes and Serished a hundred torturing fears. tfW did he not come 1 It was time y,at bis —painted in bands of ,«,rlet and white, with a broad hem of like some gorgeous Southern Jird'—should shoot out from behind the ,j er at Folkstone and leap across the raves, as if conscious cf the warm love _^t thrilled his heart. \ i But for an hour she had watched in iftiiin, and her beautiful dark eyes ■jowly lost their brightness in gather jg tears. | «Why does he not come ?" she ;f sobbed. "He knows how his delay /.Ifrieves me." I' Something stirred in the odorous below. She pushed aside the ajuiauranclia which climbed over the sill, jHjnd leaned out into the dusk.

There was a stir beneath, a soft mur jmr of voices ; the scent of a cigar mingled with that of the blossoming night flowers. A vivid red leaped instantly to Agatha's cheek. "Without staying a minute to think, she caught a soft leecy white shawl from, a chair and ran down.

A. guilty start upon Captain Field ing's part, but not the faintest tremor of surprise or disconcernment was risible in the girl, who was leaning chatting on his arm.

" I have captured him, Agatha," she cried, in a voice like a lute. " I have [tried to persuade him that even with his citrar he would be tolerable to you. But in vain! Ah, is not the tempting charming thing our most potent rival 1 As for me, I will never marry a man who smokes/

She tossed Captain Fielding a saucy smile, swept past Agatha with alight caress, and flitted away in her dusky gold-spotted robes.

Captain Fielding followed the allur iug vision with charmed eyes, and sighed absently as it faded.

"He has forgotten me," thought Agatha, walking up and down by his side. "O, why did I ask Juliette to SeaclifF."

Her bosom heaved with restrained ibs, her beautiful eyes darkened with iars.

•' Agatha—crying 1 Why, my love." All his tenderness seemed to return

the instant. Raising her swimming

Ps to his face, she knew that he loved sronly—that her jealous pangs were

"What are you sorrowful about, my Wing ?" he whispered. A.nd she hid ier face on his bosom and would not onfess. But they were happy tears bat fell now.

«I know," he said, gayly. "You ranted me!" looking down at her with iriumph shining in his eyes. " Yes ; I wanted you, and you did not come."

He kissed her and made some light excuse. She did not heed. Her soft dark eyes had a presage of sorrow in them. . An ominous shadow fell across her pathway. "You must be very good to me, Roger," she said ; "because—you know I love you. And if you could be un kind-"

He stayed the trembling words with 3ager protestations. Unkind to her, foe light of his life. Ah ! how like a over he vowed, how like a woman she rnsted. They went in from the scented gloom the garden, and the parlor was liant. A rippling melody stole out

m the half-lit music room. A lithe slender figure wheeled on the it, and a pair of eager keen eyes

fept their faces. "The have made it all up," said 'fete, under her breath ; and then turned, and the keys jingled under ft passionate hands. what thoughts surged through her id as she sat there calling up from

i almost exhaustless repertoire piece fe piece, all of which she rendered * the same exquisite perfection. ace her hand fell idly. ''Go on, Juliette, please," called jathu. «We love to hear you."

frJhe struck the instrument savagely, tafine tones clashed and sobbed in for ear.

"What a wonderful talent she has," *"1 Roger. "Yes, poor dear \ It's her fortune, * know," said Agatha, out of her J"ocent security. .What an angry light nickered in the ■d's eyes! Her fortune, forsooth! 'as she not a Haliburton. 1 To wait s^nip parlors rainy mornings while c Miss" Shoddy could be coaxed to Re her lesson, to submit to insolent Foaage, to sit up till midnight prac- Pg, to play at parties when other Ne danced—in fine, to be among all flight, beauty, and pleasure of the p—to see it all go by and get none | it—how would Agatha like that? fortune ! It was fatigue, drudgery, loneliness, poverty. That 11 her fortune. And Agatha was to '.■till and be admired, to wear beauti- P Besses and splendid jewels, to float mangel might in the soft upper air, 8 the common crowd toiled, and

suffered, and wrangled below. And, I more than all, what a sea of bitterness tossed in the girl's heart at the thought. Agatha's fortune was to love and be loved.

" Yel he smiled and looked at me to-night," murmured Juliette, as a thread of melody softly unwound into the silence. «j pleased his eyes; I could win his heart—l could bring him to my feet—if I had a hundred 'thou sand dollars. As it is—why not try V A chill ran over her. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see a demon at her feet. Poor girl! There was nothing worse near her than the envy and hate in her own heart.

She shut down the piano lid with a crash, and fled, catching as she went the cooing sound of the lover's voices.

"It will make me 'mad—mad !" she muttered, with her hands pressed over her ears. " The idiots ! To flaunt their happiness in my face ;"

Later the rising moon saw a slight figure pacing up and down the upper balcony, saw the flushed, fearful face, the wild eyes, the passionate gestures.

The fall of oars reached her. A mellow voice sang a bar of a tender French love song.

Juliette listened with a bitter smile on her lips. " Cousin Juliette V called a soft voice. Juliette shivered ; the fire died out of her eyes ; she drew a long sigh, and in a minute stepped into Agatha's pretty boudoir, which opened on the balcony.

" Why, you naughty Juliette !" cried Agatha, with wide-open eyes of surprise. " I thought you were sound asleep. You are cold, child. Dear, what a careless child it is, to be sure." And so, with playful, tender chiding, she made her sit down in an armchair, and brought a fleecy crimson shawl, wrapped in which she looked like a gorgeous flower, with her lucid eyes and crisp shining hair.

Agatha was a little I'emorseful. She had been vexed with Juliette because she had tried to flirt with Roger— been a trifle jealous of Roger, which was unspeakably absurd. And so she meant, innocently enough, to make it up by being very good to her. And, therefore, Juliette's first speech jarred upon her a little.

" Don't trouble yourself about me. I'm not like you. I'm used to cold, and damp, and discomfort."

Agatha had a dim sense of the satire in this, but she said gently, with her pretty air of authority.

" But indeed, dear, you must take care of yourself. Why, your cheeks are burning with feA rer now," and Agatha started as the contact of her cool, soft hands.

" What difference does it make?" asked Juliette, impatiently. " When one is poor one may as well die. "What do you know about life, Agatha 1 What is the cold to you with your ermine robes ; and your velvet cushioned carriages, and your house where it is always summer ? Why, 1 had to pinch myself in coal all last winter, and I shall have to do it next. I hate poverty —I hate, hate it. It's the worst thing in the world. Why did God make me poor and make me hate it so ? I think it's wicked. Why should some people have more money than they know what to do with and some people have to slave for the crusts and rags they get ?"

Agatha's fair, highbred face wore a shocked expression as she heard these words.

" The rich can't help being rich," she said, perplexedly. " I didn't say they could !" answered Juliette, the fire in her eyes dying down to a smouldering flame.

'•And I am sure most people are generous. I know I try to be." Juliette stirred impatiently. But Agatha did not mind it. She went on to preach a very pretty little sermon on the duty of being resigned to circum stances, and the ennobling effect of adversity upon the character. And she quite believed all she said, and got very eloquent before she closed. But glancing at Juliette —whose fire had gone out and left only pale gray ashes —a new thought came

" Poor child ! She has no home, no money, no lover ! Perhaps I shouldn't be any better than she is if I were in her place." Some dim sense of the differences in life grew upon Agatha from that night. She would fain have been more kind, more tender toward Juliette. But the wayward girl repelled her. She seemed harder, more reticent, her wit had a sharper edge, her smile was like sun shine upon steel. And Agatha was uncomfortable. Something of this she had tried to say to Roger, and he smil ingly pinched her cheeks {and told her she was a foolish little thermometer made to register other people's moods. As for him, he looked at the spark ling creature with a man's eyes —eyes that noted every charm and were blind to all defects. And she teased, allured and coquetted with him till he lost his head. Not very much of a head at the outset. It held a fair share of brains and had had culture. He was a gen tleman, travelled, polished, agreeable.

" A passable fellow, but not the demi god Agatha thinks him," reflected Juliette. " But then, Agatha is in love and I—l am not."

Yet the demon pursued her with the question, To do or not to do 1 On the one hand Koger Fielding and luxury, on the other her music-teaching.

■And while she deliberated she slipped nearer and nearer the edge of the fatal gulf. Tenderness died in her heart. It gave her a cruel joy to see this incon stant heart drift slowly, surely from its true allegiance, and lie helpless at last and quite at her mercy. It was a curious delight, too, to watch his pangs. For she tortured him with her caprices, wrung his heart with her coldness, and finally, when he was quite conquered, and forgot fealty and honor in his wild passion, she affected to doubt him.

"You fancied you loved Agatha, you know," she said, cooly. " Poor Agatha ! I wonder if she will break her heart over it."

" God knows, I hope not," he said, bitterly ; " I am not worth it."

" And yet you think yourself good enough for me."

She walked away from him, and stood leaning against a vine-wreathed pillar as lovely in the moonlight as a Greek goddess.

" Beautiful Juliette ! No one is good enough for you."

She laughed softly. She had a keen delight in her own charms. Why scorn him for bowing before them !

" If I thought Agatha would not mind," she reflected, while he said his honeyed lover's words in her ear.

" I suppose she would cry at first and fancy her heart broken. But she would get over ib. Yes."'

" Agatha will get over it," she muttered. " She will have lovers in plenty, and I may never have such a chance again."

Thus she deliberately weighed honor and dishonor in the scales. Roger grew restive. " You have tempted me away from Agatha—"

" I tempted you !' J she said, scorn fully.

" You, you siren, and now will you defraud me of my price 1 You won't be so cruel, Juliette 1"

She gave him one of her dazzling

smiles,

" Are you sure you love me as well as you do Agatha 1"

"As well '?" he said, passionately. "Juliette, you have taught me what love is."

She yielded herself to his arms, to his kisses.

Something stirred in the shrubbery close by ; something white ilitted away through the gloom. But Roger was deaf and blind to all but her, and she was considering wisely.

" Come down to the cliffs," she said ; "the waves are rolling ia magnifi cently."

They sauntered away over tbo stretch of rough slope which ended in a massive rocky rampart which the sea besieged year after year ; it had hollowed out great hollows in the rock, and odd wave-wet niches where one could sit and watch the sea in safety, in ordinary times. But to-day there had been a great storm, and the mighty waves came in with a roar like a wild creature, and going out swept everything before them.

" There is Agatha," cried Jnlietfce, pointing to her white figure, poised below. "I am going to her."

But Agatha waved her back. They saw the piteous look on her face as she stepped lower down, nearer the awful whirl of waters.

"' Good heavens !" cried Roger " Doesn't she know better than to ven ture over the face of the cliff when the sea is like this V

An awful shriek from Juliette cut short his words.

A mountain of water came in ; it broke with a crash that shook the solid earth beneath them, and drowned their wild cries, and then with a sullen moan fell back. But it bore upon its bosom something whiter than its foam. It tossed about a frofch of golden hair that shone for an instant and vanished.

And through all the white horror on their faces, through all the shock and the grief was the one thought—Agatha was out of the way.

A week later there was a new grave on the sandy hillside, and a new mistress at Seacliff.

One who well became that position thought jßobert Fielding, as he entered the drawing-room and saw her there in her deep mourning robes, which only enhanced her superb beauty. She met him with sweet, cold, court esy. He had meant to take her in his arms and kiss her. "Why did he not 1 What fine invisible barrier shut him out from her ?

He made a desperate effort to pass it. " I thought, dear, that perhaps you would name our wedding day," he said. " Our wedding day !" and she lifted her haughty eyebrows. "Did you think I meant to marry you ?" " Juliette !" he began. She stayed the tide of his passion by her cool scorn.

" Don't let us have a scene, Mr Fielding. Agatha is dead. We mur dered her between us "

" Murdered her !" and he grew sick and white.

" Yes, murdered her! And as her nearest heir I inherit her fortune."

" Juliette, you know I would have married you if you had remained poor,"

he cried. She waved her hand as if to put, all

aside. " And if I tad remained poor 1 would have married you. But not now. Because I do not love you or respect you, and I have money enough. And so we part. I wish you joy of your

future wife, as you may wish me joy of my fortune. I dare say we shall both be as happy as we deserve."

Her train of rustling silk swept past him as she glided from the room and left him alone with chagrin and undy ing remorse. For now all his thoughts became vocal of the woman he had wronged, for this one who had cast him off. He had sold his honor and was cheated of the price.

THE DANBURY MAN VISITS AN ENGLISH DOG SHOW.

A dog show was the principal feature to-day, and I am extravagantly fond of dogs. The afternoon I came into the city I found two mastiffs in the depot. In confusion, I thought they were two freight cars that had by some inscru tible means got off the track, I was glad to find they were dogs. The larger of the two was called the cham pion of England, and added other laurels by carrying off the prize at the show. This was the largest dog I ever saw ; it was the largest dog any two people ever saw. I thought at first I would buy him, but partly hesitated on learning the price—one thousand dol lars—and completely gave up the idea before I saw him out of the depot. He was secured by a chain in the hands of an attendant, a man who appeared to be in a chronic state of perspiration and protestation. And he was an erratic dog. He made violent and en tire'y unexpected dashes at various objects or openings, aud wherever he went the perspiring and protesting in dividual was sure to go. He snapped him off his feet every other minute, and in the intervals hauled him, over square-cornered trunks, bumped him against other people, with luggage in their hands, or shoved him over highly indignant but utterly helpless little boys, whose unrestrained curiosity had led them too close to the performance. The last I saw of the keeper (?) he was passing through the door, in charge of the mastiff, a boy was running after with his hat, and people on the side walk were appropriating elexated places with spotless alacrity. — " Bailey's Letter from Manchester."

A SINFUL FREAK.

It was a wicked thing to do, certainly. I have often regretted it since, and if the opportunity of doing it again were presented I should hesitate a long time before embracing it. But I was young then, and cherished a species of humour which I have since abjured. Still, when I remember the character of the people who were burlesquing and bringing into disrepute the letter and spirit of our religion, I feel a certain satisfaction in having contri buted one feeble effort toward making them ridiculous. In consideration of the little good I may have done in that way, I beg the reader to judge my conceded error as leniently as possible. The kstory is strictly true.

Some years ago, the town of Harding, in Illinois, " experienced a revival of religion," as the people called it. It would have been more accurate and less profane to term a revival of Rampageanism, for the case originated in, and was disseminated by, the sect which I will call the Rampagenean communion ; and most of the leaping and howling was done in that interest. Amongst those who yielded to the influence was my friend Thomas Dobsho. Tom had a been a pretty bad sinner in a small way, but he went this new thing heart and soul. At one of the meetings he made a public con fession of more sins than ever he was, or ever could have been guilty of; stopping just short of statutory crimes, and even hinting, significantly, that he could tell a good deal more if he were pressed. He wanted to join the absurd communion the very evening of his conversion. He wanted to join two or three communions. In fact he was so carried away with zeal that some of the brethren gave me a hint to take him home ; he and I occupied ad joining apartments in the Elephant Hotel.

Tom's fervour, as it happened, came near defeating its own purpose instead of taking him at once into the fold without reference or a character, which was their usual way, the brethi-en remembered against him his awful confessions, and put him on probation. But after a few weeks, during which he conducted himself like a decent lunatic, it was decided to baptise him along with a dozen other pretty hard cases who had been converted more recently, and whom I knew for a set of designing imposters. This wretched ceremony I persuaded myself it was my duty to prevent, though I think now I erred as to the means adopted. It was to take place on a Sunday, and on the preceding Saturday I called on the parson, the Rev! Mr Narrogage, and craved an interview.

" I come," said I, with stimulated reluctance and embarrassment, "on behalf of my friend. Brother Dobsho, to urge a very delicate an unusual re quest. You are, I think, going to baptize him to-morrow, and I trust it will be to him the beginning of a new and better life. But I don't know if you are aware that his family are all Plungers, and that he is himself tainted with the wicket heresy of that sect. So it is. He is, as one might say in secular metaphor, 'on the fence' between their rievous error and the pure faith of

your church. It would be most melan choly if he should get down on the wrong side. Although I confess with shame I have not myself embraced the truth, I hope I am not too blind too see where it lies."

" The calamity you apprehend," said the ignorant lout, after solemn reflec tion, "would indeed seriously affect our friend's interest and endanger his soul. I had not expected Brother Dobsho to so soon give up the good fight."

" I think, sir," I replied reflectively, " there is-no fear of that if the matter is skillfully managed. Re is heartily with, you —might I venture to say with us? —on every point but one. He favours immersion! He has been so vile a sinner that foolishly fears the more simple rite of your church will not make him wet enough. Would you believe it ? his uninstructed scruples on the point are so gross and materialistic that he actually siiggested soaping him self as a preparatory ceremony ! I believe, however, instead of sprinkling my friend, you would pour a generous basinful of water on his head—but now that I think of it in your enlightening presence I see that such a proceeding is quite out of the question. I fear we must let matters tako the usual course, trust ing to our after-efforts to prevent the backsliding which may result."

The parson rose and paced the floor a moment, then suggested that lie had better see brother Dobsho, and labour to remove his error. I told him I thought not; I was sure it would not be best. Argument might only confirm him in his prejudice. So it was settled that the subject should not be broached in that quarter. It wouid have been bad for me if it had been.

When I reflect now upon the guile of that conversation, the falsehood of my representations, and the wickedness of my motive, I am almost ashamed to proceed with my narrative. Had the parson been other than au arrant hum bug, I hope I should never suffered myself to make him the dupe of a scheme so evil in itself, and prosecuted with so disgraceful a disregard of honor. The memorable Sabbath dawned bright and beautiful. A.bout nine o'clock the cracked old bell, rigged up on struts before the meeting-house, began to clamour its call to service, and nearly tho whole population of Harding took its way to the perform ance. I had taken the precaution to set my watch fifteen minutes fast. Tom was nervously preparing himself for the ordeal. He fidgetfced himself into his best suit an hour before the time, carried his hat about the room in the moist aimless and demented way, and consulted his watch a hundred times. I was to accompany him to the church, and I spent the time fussing about the room doing the most extraor dinary tilings in the most exasperating manner—in short, keeping up Tom's feverish excitement by every wicked device T could think of. Within a half hour of the real time for service I suddenly called out—

r(t Oh, I say. Tom ; pardon me, but that head of yours is just frightful ! Please do let me brush it up a bit !"

Seizing him by the shoulders I thrust him into a chair with his face to the wall, laid hold of hia comb and brush, got behind him, and went to work, tie was trembling like a child, and knew no more what I was doing than if he had been brained. Now, Tom's head was a curiosity. His hair, which was remarkably thick, was like wire. Being cut rather shart it stood out all over his scalp like thespineson a porcu pine. It had been a favourite com plaint of Tom's that he never could do anything to that head. I found no difficulty,—l did something to it, though I blush to think what it was. I did something which I feared he might discover if he looked in the mirror, so I carelessly pulled out my watch, sprung it open, gave a start and. shouted—

By Jovo ! Thomas—pardon the oath—but we're late. Your watch is all wrong; look at mina ! Here's your hat, old fellow ; come along. There's not a moment to lose !"

Clapping his hat on his head, I pulled him out of the house, with actual violence. In five minutes more we were in the meeting-house with ever so much time to spare.

The services that day, I am told, were specially interesting and impres sive, bub I had a good deal else on my mind—was preoccupied, absent, in attentive. They might have varied from the usual profane exhibition in any respect, and to any extent, and I should not have observed it. The first thing I clearly perceived was a rank of " converts" kneeling before the " altar." Tom, at the left of the line. Then the .Rev. Mr Narrogage ap proached J him, thoughtfully dipping his fingers in a small earthern bowl of water as if he had just finished dining. I was much affected : I could see nothing distinctly for my tears. My handkerchief was at my face—most of it inside. I was observed to sob spas modically, and I am abashed to think how many sincere people mistakenly followed my example.

With some solemn words, the pur port of which I did not quite make out, except that they sounded like swearing, the minister stood before Thomas, gave me a glance of intelligence, and then, with an innocent expression of face, the recollection of which to this day fills me with remorse, he spilled, as if by acci dent, the entire contents of the bowl on the head of my poor friend—that head

in to the hair of which I had sifted a pr odigal profusion of Seidlitz-powders !

I confess it, the effect was magical — anyone who was present would tell you that. Tom's bow simmered—it seethed—it foamedyeastily, andslavered like a mad dog ! It steamed and hissed, with angry spurts and flashes ! In a second it had grown bigger than a small snowbank, and whiter. It surged, and boiled,- and walloped, and overflowed, and sputtered—sent off feathery flakes like down from a shot swan! The froth poured creaming over his face, and got into his eyes. It was the most sinful shampooing of the season.

I cannot describe the sensation this produced, nor would lif I could. As for Tom, he sprang to his feet, and staggered out. of the house, groping his way between the pe,ws, sputtering strangled profanity, and gasping like a stranded fish. The other candidates rose also, shaking their pates as if to say, ''■ No you don't, my hearty," and left the house in a body. Amidst un broken silence the minister re-ascended the pulpit, with the empty bowl in his hand, and was first to speak :

" Brethren and sisters," said he with calm deliberate evenness of tone, " I have held forth in this tabernacle for more years than I have got fingers and toes, and during that time have known not guile, nor anger, nor any uncharit tableness. As for Dod Grile, who put up this job on me, I judge him not lest Ibe judged. Let him, take that and siu no more!" —and he Hung the earthen bowl with so true an aim that it was shattered in a thousand pieces against my skull. The rebuke was not unmerited, I confess, and I hope I have profited by it.

MR. AND MRS PERKINS REMOVING.

Mrs Perkins being very busy in pre paring to move, last -week, Mr Perkins volunteered to wash the breakfast dishes one morning. Mrs Perkins gladly accepted his offer, and went up stairs to take down the back bedroom curtains. Bhe had just reached that locality when the voice of Mr Perkins j-olled up the stairway : " Where's the dish-cloth.?" "Under the sink," she answerd back. A moment's silence followed. Mrs Perkins found a wooden chair, mounted it, and reached up to the curtain sticks. " I can't find the dish-cloth," came the voice of Mr Per kins up the stairway. " It's under the sink hanging on a nail, I told you," she repeated. "It ain't there, I say," urged Mr Perkins, with some warmth,

Mrs Perkins got down from the chair, descended the stairs, and opening the door under the sink, pointed silently but significantly to the hanging dish cloth. With the same discreet silence Mr Perkins took it down, keeping his back towards his "wife. Mrs Perkins re ascended the stairs, with the simple advice to Mr Perkins fi to keep his eye in front of him."

Again she mounted the wooden ohair, and took hold of the curtains. "Matilda!"' shouted Mr Perkins. " Well 1" exclaimed that lady, with marvellous brevity. " Tnat water just peels the skin offen me," he explained. " Put cold water in it then," said Mrs Perkins, as she turned back to her work. " What's that ?" said Mr Perkins from the foot of the stairs. Mrs Per kins got down from her chair, with compressed lips and flashing eyes, and stalking to the head of the stairs frowned down into the anxious face of Mr Perkins at the foot. " Put-cold water-into-it," she recited in an elevated key: "Do you hear that ?" "Well, you needn't got mad about it," grumbled the unhappy Mr Perkins, as he disap peared.

Mrs Perkins returned to the chair, mounted it again, and wearily took to her task. Five minutes passed un interruptedly. One of the curtains was down all Tight. The wooden chair was moved to the other window, and was again ascended, when Mr Perkins's voice clove the air of the stairway. " Matildy ! " Mrs Perkins thought she would drop. " Well, what is it, now1?" she cried. " Where's a towel to dry them things V he shouted. " Look for it," said Mrs Perkins in a voice adapted to her own hearing and satisfaction, and then raising her voice for his bene fit, she added, •" Where it always is : on the nail back of the pantry door."

Another silence followed the with drawal of Mr Perkins. A moment passed. "It ain't there," said Mr Perkins from the foot of the stairs. An expression flitted across Mi's Perkins's face at the reception of this information, that deserved a better billet than the four bare, walls of an empty room. "It must be there/ she replied in a voice of smothered emotion. " Well, I can't see it," he said. There was a half minute of silence.

Perkins was evidently waiting to hear him move away in renewal of the search, but no such sound reached her. " I declare. Daniel," she suddenly snapped out, " you are enough to try the patience of a saint. I tell you that towel is on that nail back of that pantry door, and anybody with his eyes half open would see it." •'' If you know so much about it you had better come down here and find it yourself," said Mr Perkins, with a tinge of sarcasm. " Do go and look for it again, Daniel," pleaded Mrs. Perkins ; "it don't seem as if I could go down and up those stairs again this morniag."r

Mr Perkins shufßled away at this appeal, and Mrs Perkins with a sigh turned her attention to the curtain. She was. made nervous by the frequent

interruptions, and her progress in taking it down was slow and painful. Mr Perkins was gone so long that she was beginning to think he hg^found the towel, when his footsteps was heard at the foot of the stairs, and again his voice ascended, "It 'taint there."

Mrs Perkins came down from the chair so suddenly as to cause Mr Perkins to wink where he stood. The next instant she swept down the chairs with flushed face, and hard, determined eyes. Mr Perkins moved away in advance and preceded her to the pantry entrance, and stared inside trium phantly. She waved him aside with her hand and the simple words : " Get away, you blockhead," and pushed by him. The towel was not on the nail, but her quick eye detected it in plain view on the first shelf, and with hardly a pause she straightway reached out and picked it up. " There, do you see that?" and she shook it in his face. To say that Mr Perkins was not surprised would be to misrepresent his feelings, but the towel was not on the nail, and Mr Perkins desperately clutched at this straw. " I told you it wasn't there V he said. " Warn't there !" exclaimed Mrs Perkins spitefully, "It was right in front of v our eyes, and every body but blockhead would have seen it at once." " Well, give it to me and I'll finish them, said Mr Perkins in jia tone of voice that indicated the subject ■ was becoming distasteful to him. "I'll finish them myself," said Mrs Perkins firmly. " And I might , have better done them myself at the .first, and saved my strength, for goodness knows I have got litttle enough." " I tell you I'll do them," protested Mr Perkins. " No, you have done mischief enough for one day," said Mrs Perkins, hysterically, " and yon had better go down street and enjoy yourself with your cronies." The un happy man retired from the room in great depression, and eventually dis appeared down sti'eet, muttering to him self, " It twant on the nail anyway."— " Danbury News."

A GREVIOUS SELL.

A Waif from Haxnafobd's Diary.

" But," said the placid man timidly, " don't you think your mode of procedure was a leetle coo sharp?"—but hastily adding—"l admit you had great provocation for so

doing."

Sharp ! did you say ? Was I not justified in using any and every means to get my just; dues ? Sharp, is it? -Well, I like that ; and the red-faced, man applied his handkerchief to his nose, and blew a clarion blast.

"Pray do not suppose, my dear sir, for one moment," said the placid man nervously, '■ that I condemn your action in the matter ; your debtor, most decidedly, was a shabby fellow—a very shabby fellow indeed; but (he added wheedlingly) you must allow the debt was a paltry one—£l ss, I think you said : and see to what an unconsciable amount you ran it up to."

"That's just it," said the other; "'twas the very paltririess of the sum which decide me in acting as I did. Had the amount been larger I might have hesitated in doing so ; but the sum was so small—the work done, so extensive—and the meanness exhibited in endeavouring to wriggle out of payment so pitiful that,, hang me," said the red-faced man, raising his voice, and bringing down.his list on the table, with a bang that could have .been heard all over the house, "if I don't glory in the trick I put upon him. Lor', when I think of the way he walked into the trap (said the speaker, now perfectly purple with suppressed merriment) I feel ready to to bust."

1 remember, said a gentleman who had been silently listening to the redfaced man's ruse, —:I remember bleeding a a party, 3ven more freely than you did, for the for the mere matter of half-a-crown.

" Two and sixpence," murmured the placid man.

"Two bob and a tanner !" ejaculated the red-faced one.

"Yes," gentlemen, for no more than that said sum of money. I put my debtor to an expense of over £12, and got paid—and cheerfully paid into the bargain. " How very ex-tra-or-di-na-ry," quoth one. "Singe my whiskers, if it ain't bully," said the other. 1 say, mister, have you any objection to spinning the yarn 1 "Not the slightest," said the gentle man—names and places for obvious reasons are imaginary ; but: the other other portions of what I am about to relate is as true as gospel. It happened thusly :— ---"I resided for several years in the city of Hew Zealand, and amongst the many business points I affected was a registry office for Servants. Well, one day a party^ who we will name Smith, called upon me, and said he was away from- during week days ; if I would send his wife a servanb girl before the Saturday following, he would give me one pound. You may rely upon it, gentle men, I did not forget to recommend all girls seeking places to go to that situation—"

" By jingo, I should think not," said the red-faced man, with a blow on the table.

" Hush ! don't interrupt the gentleman," said the placid man.

" A week after, happening to be walking through the street in which Mr Smith resided, and noticing a servant cleaning the doorstep, I went over to her and enquired whether she had not got the place through my office. I was answered in the affirmative. Well, thought I to myself, my pound is safe anyhow. Finding her master was out I de sired the girl to tell him when he came home that I would call the next week. Accordingly on the Saturday following I did so, and find ing him in, applied for the amount. There upon my gentleman took high ground : the servant was a poor cook—got up linen very indifferently—had a young man who came to see lier, and whom she persisted, in seeing of an evening, after his wife had distinctly told her she would allow of no followers about the door, and wound up with informing' me he would not pay one penny. Well, Mr Smith, said I, you have had the girl more tuan a fortnight, she is still your servant, and has received no warning to go. You must be well aware I cannot hold myself respon sible for the servant's shortcomings inability. My part of the contract has been decidedly performed. My legal fee is 2s 6d ; pay me that and I will depart. Not one penny will I pay, said he, snapping his finger and thumb. Then, sir, said I, you may rely upon it I will go to the E.M. Court and make you pay. You may go to the d—l if you likejjaid he,' and bang went the door in my fiCp A few

StTPfrfcEMENT T6 fan AUC&AOT) EvEtflNG STAR