My Father's Secret.

Stkang-e, how the merest trifles will sometimes call up, in the most vivid colours, a train of recollections we had fancied were so laid away in the lumber room we all have in some back recess of our brains, that they have lost all distinct form and reality! . •

To-night, a sound in the street at mid night, a cry, perhaps from some houseless wanderer, wakened in terror from her shivering, "shelterless slumbers, thrilled through my very soul with the startled agony of'fearsubn a'sound excited in my childish mind—how many years ago? fifty, at least—and brought back to me, with a tumultuous r.ush, all the series of •circumstances that then so oppressed my ife with a Tague, nameless, unspeakable horror; and when, in later life, these; circumstances were explained, the ex- i planation only substituted real for imagin ary terrors. ,', ■■'<■■' An only child, my early days were spent m the old place that had been in dur amily for upwards of three centuries. It was situated in Cornwall, near the sea, far from any town of the least importance, and it and our. lives-^my father's and mine, for I was motherless, were so iso lated that often months, nay, I may say years, passed, without our ever seeing a a new face. . \ . ..." ■"■,-'■ :

In those days of which I speak, nay father must have been still a young and a handsome man; but children commonly have such incorrect ideas as to the ages and appearances of their elders, and of their parents especially, that the memory of my father always presents itself as that of a middle-aged, sombre, silent, not generally pleasing or attractive man. I loved him less than I feared him; not that he was ever other than gentle and most kind to me ; but somehow there was' I know not how, an uneasy feeling sub sisted between us ; we never were on the terms of fond protection on the one side, of clinging confidence on the other that alone constitute the natural'and healthy relations between father and child.

What, above all, caused this uneasy sensation on my part, was the conscious less —I cannot say when it first came, but <cmc it did, gradually growing on me in a vray whose oppression I cannot now re cal without a return of its weight—that my father was constantly—furtively and secretly, but constantly—watching me. Watching me, too, with a sort of anxious, ff arful expectancy, as if there was about me something alarming or unnatural, that should stamp me as a creature apart from the rest of my species. ':'.,. , ... From this thought came the yet more harassing one that such a feeling on his part might have a real foundation I knew not of. I can perfectly remember se cretly studying my own face and,figure! in the "large cheval-glass that stood in an unused dressing-room (my mothers1 as I afterwards learnt) to discover if I had any personal peculiarity, or sign, or deformity that might in any way account for this singular demeanor of my father's, and watching my own words, and habits, and behaviour, to test if in them lay the cause thereof. But I could myself discover nothing. The mirror, only showed me a pale, large-eyed, delicate-looking boy, tall and .slight beyond his years "with 'a par-, ticularly grave, reflective cast of counte-' nance (these particulars, my recollection of. my own image, rather than my >then view of it, informs me), and loose, dark, curling hair, hanging over the forehead, and giv ing additional shade and solemnity to the eyes-, When I turned my. thoughts inwards, to study, as well as I could, my moral characteristics, 1" could in them detect mo incongruities calculated to justify uneasiness. , „ ; At last—never sßall I forget the months of watchful terror that followed that supposed explanation of the mystery—l fancied I had found a clue to the awful SGCI*Gt " So'metimeSi'tired. with -wandering about alone, I usedt,oroaminto the library, and, taking down a book by chance, tried- to: find some amusement therein; few of the volumes were.in any way calculated^ to suit the taste and comprehension ot a child, being .chiefly pf> grave character, but at last I hit upon a collection x>f old legendary poems and ballads, and herein found ample food for interest.. ..Among these was the Breton legend of Bisclavaret, the tale of the knight who,..owing, to some fearful but unexplained fatality, was corni polled at certain times to assume the shape and nature of a wolf. ; ' ".,,,. Could I be a Bisclavaret ? ,was _ ; the question that-instantly .addressed itself to mind. Did my father know that at Some time I was destined to undergo this fear ful transformation ? Was heacquamted with the indications that announced the change? Had he yet perceived any of them? ■ h, ; r~, ; t: >'' Su?h were the questions that now haun ted my waking thoughts and. my nightly dreams, and aSi no. doubt, these terrible anxieties produced a visible effect on.my. looks and manner, my father^ full of<an uneasy terror whose natnre I mistook, in creased, his painful surveillance, >&ndy by it my racking alarms. ; ' .. I say the moment when I should^ my self .peiceive: the commencement ot the transformation. I pictured the^ manner, of it in tfty ways. ' Spmetimes'l fancied it would bt gradual; and I should,see and feel the sltor blending of thehuman^nd W^mM^^M^Wf^wi'J should be swallowed rup in the latter,; and I" should beconie, 'for Vt^e time^ being, at all events. a (reabwolf.-" 'At others, ,1 fancied the chiange wo.uld be' iiist^ntaneojus, ; that from a boy/IJBhoild suddenly spring into a raging, raVeniig monster, fall—who could' tell ?—on • Uose .arflun^/.p^niyi father, my nurse, favourite animals, pony;;dog, or bird, a*d then,*with blpody fatigs, r rush howlipg^an'-bbjecljlof liatred anil fterror to all,;into.t^e daik woods that extended for 'miles a^xuid;';,the; nouse, ending^; perhaps, byfallng into the black abyss of one of the wo*i-out mines'that were not rare in the district. ,

Our house, which was, a yyry large one, had been built. #nd added ferat different, periods, and my father and.l /onlyoccupied' a comparatively,,, small portion of one end of it, ;This portiofr waS'shut ;6titfr'Q^i the rest by' a door1 at'; 1 line -termination -of a paiiage, which was kept so entird^ closed mp""thai I had' never seen. itoperted, and the i upnsied part of the house X had aeTer. once entered. Qften, with intense turi otity, I liad Ipofee^fiip^at^ho.stuttered wiado#9jl '"'wonderiiig Wh»t maann. $i

rooms they were, that daylight never visited, longing, yet half dreading to_ ex plore them. Another, object of curious and unsatisfied interest to me was.a walled enclosure extending from the extreme end of the deserted part of. tlie house, and covering a space of perhaps about half an acre. The wall was very high, much higher than anjDrdinary garden wall, and the door of it; which led into a dark shrub bery-°walk, now, almost blocked up with undergrowth; wa's kept constantly locked, and indeed,- had no appearance of having been opened for any number of years. Why this was sol was never able to learn. 1 had asked, the questibn'of my nurse, a resident in the house since! before my birth, but she had replied, eVasively that she supposed the key was lost, and at any rate there wera gardens enough, and to spare without' using that one, adding; an injunction to me not to go near there, as the shrubbery was damp arid full of briars and nettles, and I'should hurt myself and get my clothes torn. The result of her caution was, that the next day found me making my way through the tanglec underwood in the direction of the closec door that so excited my curiosity. .For sorrie time the noise I made''forcing a passage kept from me the knowledge that I was not alone in piy progress. But pausing to take breath, I suddenly be came aware of' the fact, arid, turning round, I fojind myself face to face with mv father.. In'a voice c?f severity, very unusual ;wh'en addressed to. me, he asked me what I was doing there; adding a prohibition ever to return, as I should 'be sure to hurt myself, and he. would not have it. . .

' From; that moment ,1 became convinced that within the enclosure "of .those! walls lay the secret -of the 'mystery of our existence ands' of my father's strange watchfulness of me, and I resolved,; come what might, to solve it; ; ' But two days later was commenced 'the erection of a high, strong paling round the shrubbery, and not being tall dr strong enough to scale it, independent of the risk ■of being detected in the attempt to do so, TWas baffled. • •' '■ I was,. I suppose, at this time, about seven or- eight years old, but no notice ever being taken of my birthday, I did ■ not Itnow what my age was, arid now I can only guess approximative^ what it i might have been. ■ One thing I gained by .this inkling of a discovery, and that was the dispersion of my terrors on the Bisclavaret grounds. ■ No-; I felt assured that not in myself, 'alone and individually, lay the .cause of my. father'^conduct towards me. There, behind that shrubbery, within.thesd walla,, was bidden the, true explanation, and I only was an object of anxiety as being somehow connected with that impenetrable, mystery, That such was the fact, and how it was so, I had to learn later. Months passed away, perhaps a year may have gone by, when one nigh.tlwent to. bed about my usual hour, half-past eight or nine o'clock,,-_. .n .: It had been a hot summer's day, and a ■long ride had fatigued me, so th&t I slept unusually sound (I;was, for"a child, rather a light sleeper in general), when—l can describe"(the sensation,-in no other, way; than/ £3 that of being wrenched instan tarie.ously.from pro found; slee-p into terrified? faking—l was, roused by a, scream, so loud, so long, so agonised, that I sprang up shivering ' wj.th [a, ghastly horror that made. the. .cold sweat burst put over my; quivering;limbs. ;" ; :>J |j ;,,, r . • ; : . ; c ! In.an.instant my father—l .slept, in ,a room" ope,ning r: from his—rushed, in, with a face I shall never forget, a look whose anxious terror ,was ; all directed to,me— as if excited "faß less by that,hideous ;! souud,; than ; by the fear.pf its influence on me. ?, ! Bursting into hysterical sobs, I stretched j my arms to. him> and ahnosjt for. the firßt time.l c'puld- remember, he ? toak me to hjs breast, cla^pingnie^lpse, kissiug,soothing,, and reassuring me, like-a woman ; yet I had a 'consciousness, at .the, same, time.,, dividing his' attention to me with a rest less, intense as-to-the circum stance that had .caused it, mingled with;a dread of a recurrence of the alarm, an im patient desire to -investigate the, matter, of wMeh^ however, he attempted no. ex planation,' being, 1/suppose* toa shaken by his emotions $o invent a, plausible on©. While'he still-held me.thus, my, nurse entered., .This 'seemed ip, relieve Him.- I obsery^dT .'tTbiat. they Exchanged. looks of mutual intelfigeijce, and my fatheivplaemg me yC her arms, once more kissed me, teiling^me to .fear nothing," and, taking.a light Tie left my room by the opposite .door from tha> f by which he had entered;it.'. ,<: "What.was it, nurse f'Vl whispered, 'when I Had, become'aIlittle reassured. : She hesitated. '■ [ - . .. , .. "It must have been Jane,' frightened by a rat; or perhaps she had the night -1 h&ce'. ~';% i 'it was nothing that pou^d hurt you, dear." . - . 1 knew.this jwas.not the, T true ( , explana tion | But" I valso Jmew ;i£ wa^- n<#, r^M to: get another; so I .was silent, and, 1 ! More 1 than :once, after .that night, M. the same harrowing sound disturbme, ana Sometimes the shrieks were not" single, but iterated witE fearful, energy,- On 'each occasion .my'father manifested _the igame intense anxiety, though hiJ<endea ! poured fc> conceal it from me, and invented ■ some plausible 'explanation,' Which I was forced to appear to accept, though my lite : was rendered miserable' by- the" terrors which this state of-tMngssbeset it ! ; One morning, after' the shriek* -had been more than usually terrific, mytfather, ;apparently:-driven'into a desperate reso lution, < announced io me ■ tiiatt we were' going away for a,timer that he would 'accompany me to destination,-and; ■leaving "me with my nurse, he would come v •-. ?o'i • ■}■ -° r';'-^;"-^ i I had never Ibien from home before Ud! the idea; of the, change—yet less for iownJ sake, than for i^esca|e^t ; pto mh me from. my. Afforded me. unspeakable relief. .Whether X evidence o^ ,awakened on^my father more pain or-pleasure, I can hardly eUj certainly, tf"^^ 1!' < ,In a week,,it was, fixed, weslrould go to PeVbnshi^/where, in a village known io my nur^,,we take.up our abode, But for no. specified time, iw <•■ ■ • -..

\ I counted -the dayft'with eager lm iatience, and^ already five -ofr the seven had departed. night I.had gone to Bed, and faUen. asleep -With dreamy sense.,of approachiag^scape, and. had J slept, I suppose, several hours, when J^ was suddenly »wakened : by the lound of

the splaslr.ng of Water in"my room. Loo k ing towards the washing-stand (a night light, without, which my terrors would not allow me to sleep, faintly, lighted the chamber), I descried the figure of a wo man whose back was towards me, washing her hands. I had never seen her before, of that I was quite certain, nor anything the least like her. '

She was tall and thin, dressed in a loose, shapeless garment, and her hair, which was dark, was cropped close to her head.,.. ' i- " - •

Apparently unconscious of my presence, there' "she-^CoddY washing ncr hands, but with an energy arid intensity of purpose, curious in so-ordinary an occupation; rubbing arid wringing them, as if she would- take the skin off, pausing to exa mine them, then with an exclamation of impatient disappointment —sometimes a sort of shudder —plunging them back into" the water, splashing, rubbing and wring ing them again and again. So extreme were my amazement and terror at this"'*extraordinary apparition, that for some minutes I could neither speak nor move. As I lay, I heard the clock strike three, and as it was summer; I knew daylight was near: this was some slight relief. If 1 could only lie still till sunrise I thought I might summon courage to address my wondrous visitor, or perhaps she might then retire. So I tried to regulate even my breathing soas not io attract her attention, and lay still, my eyes rivetted on, her with I fearful fascination, waiting for what might come, Eor what did come I was little prepared- After long scouring and rubbing hpr hands, but apparently with no satisfactory result/she turned;'and I saw her face. Child'as I was, I felt that it had in it a something -that placed it out of the nature or order of allother faces. Not without- : traces of beauty, even in its haggajd. pallor and,,sunken eyes, it yet wore the stamp of something whichseemed tome not to belong to humanity. There was a sort of mingled wildness and vacancy in the expression of the pale lips, of the troubled eyes, unnaturally yet gloomily ; bright in dark and hollow orbits, like sullen > fire in airlesscaves ; and thethick, cropped, <darj£chair:, coming a ridge straight iacross the forehead, added not a little to the singular effect of the countenance. -At first her eye seemed to wander vacantly about the room, as if with a half-. coniciousness: that it was unfamiliar to her. Then, after awhile, it lighted on me::'■•>'■ '■' .-: ■">"-■'■■

She came quickly to the bed, gazed at; in© with eager,' startled scrutiny, then with hasty hand drawing down tke bed. clothes a little way she began feeling my throat." -• ~'-,. 1,1 Feeling it,'not graspingly or clutch; ingly, or as though intending it any harm, but as if to satisfy some intense anxiety— to assure herself of some peculiaiity res pecting it. ; '. What followed I cannot tell; for with her hand, deadly cold and wet on my throat, I became, insensible. A brain fever war the result of this night's adventure. And then came a dark period—£ have-never dared tJ inquire into1 then particulars' of it, or even how long it lasted^of overshadowed con scious- j ness, from which Ijawdke.but gradually, and with occasional relapses. ~ - '. Tha.t the period must hare been con,- i siderable'l know; for when" I recovered I had arrived at another stage'of growth.^ being no lo'nger'a child but a youth ; and my father's*hair was sprinkled.with grey, and, his face marked%ith lines I did not fe_taemb:er. - . :> ;: ..'."■!: We were in Prance when I awoke from thajt ,lqng mental, slumber, of whose ver,y dreams I had no recollection; living in Botany, in as retired a manner as we had lived at the^ old house in. Cornwall. j Th'en we travelled for some years, and so .1 fgreW; to manhood. Quite sane, and i^ full pssaessioh of my mental faculties, :• ' ljut ,alw&ys. iwith- a lingeringr sense of in- > stability, in their tenure, a dread :of augh.t; that/might, tend to shock or r shake them, and a^hy unwillingness to joiu in society those of my' o^n. age,/or indeed toVgo forth at allMhtoitf woWd'which had never • been-'Mny bthe*Jthan alien1 and unknown, So Icontintwd to the age of threeiand twenty, wlaeu nay father, diexii died,., taking with him the secret that had ao terribly influenced 'mj life. I?ut years afterwards, when time and the necessity : of action had brought with them their salutary results, and that living like Other;; men.vl had become aa other J men, J my ■ uncle, my father's only brother,.revealed to me the mystery. ''.■'. '.•;•«..-•''>'• My father, ( §t eigh,t-and-twenty, j had - married my motker, then barely seven teen.:'" '..,'.'" ' .. ■'■ ..:'",.;,■■ , : She was . very pretty, very childish,, fond of pleasure and the amusements of 'her age^aiiVi'ha'vin'gi'been one;of.a large and happy/ and - well-anited' family/ the change from her own gay home'artd circle to theJonely old house.4nGorttwiall,.-and my,' father's ; graye, studious hab^t»,-fell iheavily on her, and soon she pined in secret for What stieliad lost. .^My,father saw it,""and though 'deeply pained .and disappointed, he Was the first tq propose Wbat«he was longing a visit to her' family.1 p- " ,-';;-i '\'.''--: n. ■/- ~~: ' This, was some three; months .before the •xpegj:ed period;i6.£,ipay/oirith; .he took her • to j^'er home," and ijt was settled that there, t hb should leaye, her till jHer confinement s|6Uld'^alce |lace, atWhichpenpdhe >fas' to} rejoin'heir, and; in due time; to conduct her1 back t'6 Coi^nwallv . "'':•■ "' But rere; she' had; %'een more than a monthVaway, neWs came to hei thftt my father; had. been attacked yithra pleurisy of tn^imbit, dangetous ; kmd,,; and., she, ; smitten with grief and something like self, reproach, would listen to no persuasiom .tttat could keep-her-from him, and the psxt day, attended by her maid, set out, tr|arellingpost, tojoinhim. . ■ ' Early, in the nwrning. theyJhad startei^,' lijtending;^; ; tQ sleepjtnat jiightjaji.aibtjwn of sdme impqrttncfi on. i]xe But .the'; roads #eire heary, and the h,pi:ses,so jaded* th!at it was erident they could not, reach tbleir destination till far on the night, even supposing i£ possible tOiacHieve, that much, and fatigue-; and anxiety vrere beginning to, tell strongly on *my niother. . , >;-^ ; " '' :•' ■ iSo there was nOthmg^rifc-buttoiiake the first tolerableshelter thejf cpuldre-acn, dad at ten p'clock:they werehgla,d;to find themselves in a'rutal, comfortable roadside inn. • ;, w ~ f ]i Sup"perdespateh»d/:«»y^bei»%a^ to ratire to bed. The room i though si^all and poorly furniihed, wsi el«to, *&& <%» ■■':"■ •' ''" ' ' ■'■;■■ .- ... . -i. .t; ' .•-■ ■. . ■-- -• -•■ • '•{':■■■' '{'•;-'- ~ '•'>'■' ', :' 1 • ■ _ .. "'

bed looked not uninviting, and the only serious drawback to its convenience was, that my mother's maid had to sleep in a room above, there being none other un occupied on that floor. However as Wil son's chamber was the one immediately over my mother's,' and she was a light sleeper, it would be easy, by tapping with j the point of an umbrella on the low j ceiling, at any moment to sumaaon her, in ■ case of there being occasion to do so. | And so in a short, time, my mother^ t worn out with all she had gone through in the long*dayr dropped into a-ptbfound sleep, and one by one the lights and the noises,' in the house sank- into darkness and silence, and only the mice held their nightly orgies behind the old wainscoting. Only in one room a light was still burn ing ai two o'clock in the morning. About that time my mother awoke; but in such ghastly terror arid'horror that it seemed riot like waking from wholesome sleep, "but like waking from death in the place of outer darkness—where are weep ing and gnashing of teeth. For something was clutching and tear ing frantically at the bed-clothes, with a horrible gasping, gurgling sound unlike anything in or out of nature, and there was a struggling arid writhingon the floor by the beSside, as if the thing was striv ing to clamber up on it. And so strong was my mother's impression that this was so, that though unable to scream, she put forth her hand, as.if to repulse the thing, and felt it come in contact with something hot and wet, that 'clung stickily to her fingers. Then she found breath to burst into wild ringing shrieks; and lights were brought; and lying by*the bedside was a man in the^agonies of death .with his throat gashed, and the blood welling from it and saturating the bed-clothes, and crimson on my' mother's hand. She never recovered her senses, and a few ;days after I was born.' ' " My father, as soon as it was possible— much sooner than it was safe —for him to travel, came and took her and irie, the-one mad, the other apparently, dying, to Corn-^ wall. Two rooms on, the ground floor of j the house were arranged for her, opening on the enclosure that had so often excited my curiosity, so thai; she might, unseen, hava air and exercise. There, attended only. by her maid, an elderly woman, attached to her. from her childhood; arid by my father, she remained till the period of her death,, whiqhioccurred but jv, few weeks after the night on which I had seen her for the firsthand last time. During the earlier years of her insanity she had usually been tolerably quiet; but some mouths before her death the infirmity took a new turn. She would be seize1!! with sudden frenzies, uttering the shrieks that had occasionally reached r my ears, going in imagination through the scene., at the inn, constantly washing her hands' to remove the,blood.with which her distrac ted fancy stained 'them, and exatninmg the throats: of my father, the doctor, arid nurse as she h#d examined mine. '-■ '■ And riow was explained the meaning of the painful surveillance of me which, in my poor father, had so disturbed me. A constant dread was on him lest the con dition,, of my iribther's intellect, at the period*, of my birth might exert an influ ence1 on mine. Bay arid night this terror haunted him;_ every word, Took, and action of mine was weighed aria studied ■with this idea; And "little did he suspect how this very anxiety, or. rather the un conscious evidence of it, tended, taw aids producing a state of mind calculated to engender, under f exciting circumstances, tthe very effect lie dreaded. 'Above <( all jthirig's;he trembled, lest the, truth of my mother's aWful fate should! in any way, reachi i me; and thus arose the mystery which I verily believe, might have'been yet more dangerous tome tharieven some knowledge of the ;rightfril fact; ■>• a;j : , My, poor fajher,' if ,errar /y there, we v re» it pas wholly error of judgment, and 1 hayp no reason to' blame hirii—to do.other j^han regard his me&ibry with pityirig teh'der bess, to1 lament over a.fate !s6 titide'se^yed knd-,so terrible.' >He-sleeps; now- uride'f-a monument I'haTe erected in our pafeish churchyard, side ,by ~side iwifh the wife JFrom whom iri^fe if h,e. was 80,^-cruelly divided. ;. v.,., . ~ | s . .':. ;tj j 'The unfortunate cause of the..palamity which thus over shadowed the lives of a family, proved' to be a young^gefttlejinan; ihe son of Scottish parents, whoi tired of montony of his qtiiet hoirie life; had come south, falleriiri with evil company, and, having disgraced the honest name fie bore> resolved, in a monatent of desperation, io'end his life* "No sooner, (how|sver, h,ad his hand commited the fatal, act, than, Repentant and terrified, liis^ only' thbuj^it waS to teeic As'Bistynce.l;i V' ? r ' Between1 his" rodm and my mother's was | a . door of communication, which; neither she'nor had bbieryedjand:through ' Ijn'is Le, having (heard^o^c^s on the other aide, trailed himself, and, unable r to speak had sought to .call iri'y nioilier'^ attention in the way described. ', t .' X, s j -But aia^ca'me-top late,'. a:nd in a'',fe|# mftimteS liater he .expire'^ lriyolving ih'nis own. fate tkb»e innocent inflarers I.'; ;' ::; -

Popping Corn.

, Aildthere th^jr s»t rpqppingjcornj ■ ,; «• r .; , ' Jdhn Stiles arid ,BuaanCutifer.!.■'/. v..^' '"' JoKtr StiF^i^aa' rat as! any ~oj$ r' f "*'''' ■ - c' J j«tnd-Sntiin-f^ta|fbtttte*." -'■'" : ■'-[ ■ £j7J . THen r Johjii>he shpok; the/popper, is c i ■;. ■-ITill both tlieir faeos grew as red •, f ■ v i] ■ As gaacraan«|.ma^«.p i^cp^p.er. jj . .jVr < And tie*! thoj; «|ielled,:and popped, iand, ;atjß . All iii<33 hi ihn A poking, ' ■ V '' -And he haw-hawed afc aher remarlci, j ;i';And*li6Jlaiighied'alf*hli^ollSifljj[£!..' ; i(;QY? ' ,Arid'»tillth«y ptJp^eof, Mid still they *tj^ a; .I ; JfQhq'4 AoQtiis"Wß!iiiit«;:ft^ hopp«r, :oi>: ' : JAndjitiirredrtlie-i!^ and sprinted /Ball/;- I ; And shoot and,B!hoQk|^|e.pypper. ; (fo! r ' ;ih».plbofc|trjdck, nine (Rni,then struck ten, /And atllithecorDjkapt popping; ~![' '. Kiirubk'eleVen-*-inen struck twelve,'' ''~JJ And still no sign of stoppingV,-I '■■''■:-' < ' 'And* John, he ate, and Snsan thought*— : The epKa (did.pop.smd patter; < f EPill Jphp.-juried-out; ; "The cc'j»'sAfirel; ; ; : _I?\^/fußan v w^ ~ , Saidjihe, .',' Jfojiti $tiles, it's pne o'clock,. ■ Yoa'll die bf|inaigeßtion } / ./.;. ' : , I'nl;Bickbf allfthis popping corn -* - f Why d©Q^Jv")u pop the question ?" ffho ,•'•■■' " \ .._/ who spelt Androw Jackeon ' * ' 3'hatbßen'equMWal*^* student 4 firsfe of half-a.do?«T nnr ihirta '*~ >(^i j«ie»," «ad th» rttt (t do," ■ '■•:'•• j. .'■-«£'■"•'■'~r-'■"■■■■• v~~~-— f . .

Age.

BY JOHK BIAOKMAN,

rfo outward things the eye may be dim, the e« deaf, i.nd the touch dull; but there are lights that die not away with the dying sunbeams; there are sounds whioh cease not when the sineing of birds is silent, that are emotions that still stir the soul, delightful as the thrill of a daughter's hand pressing her father's knee in prayer ; and therefore, how culm how happy, how reverend. beneath un- i offended Heaven, is old age Walk on the mountain, wander down the v»lley, enter the humble hut, scarcely less humble Church, and you will know ho.w.«*cred. a thing is the hoary.hair that lsea on the temples of him who, during his long journey, forgot not his Maker, and feels that1 his old age shall be renewed into immortal youth ] \ '■ .—/'■, —Professor Wilson. Some ports sing of youth and spring, , And Nature's every varying nage ; ~ . But few there be, who sing witJb. gl«e, , ~ j The calm delight of ripening ; age. . ' Yet age hath sweets, and green retreftl^ ■'■.: And welcomes many a kindly nod, And tranquil views, whose genial line I, Reflect the cheeriDg smiles of Gxd. ; fXhe wintry breeze unrobes the trees, , Witli chilly bieath which seems severe; And in life's wane, pass pleasures vain, As othe 1-, heavenlier views appear. The silver hairs, which weakness weara, : | 1 My inmost, deepest thought reveres, ; For they are signs as strength declines. Of life beyood the rolling years. . .. ; .. ,j I ne'er despite the old' man's aigbs, Nor-can I scorn the hoary head ; For who may know ?—those footsteps slow, May be a passing angel's tread. That Heart may feel, though shadows steal Across the tottering old man's way, The breafch of flowers, from Eden's bowers, As earthly flowers around, decay. & 'Tis mercy's hand thatglooms the land, .And gently dims the:eye of age ; The spirit cheers, to other spheres, , , UnpicEured in the poet's page. ~ ~ r

Varieties.

Clergymen are sin-Beer men. A terrible blow.—B'low'zerOi^ - A pair of tights.—Two drunkards. .' ; - To keep warm.—Keep the furnace coaled. Many innocent shopkeepers often show signs Of gilt. ,>■'■>>■ ;X>y.'jT\ '■■:„ ' ■'■' ■

A -woman lecturer says that man's inhuman ity to man oannofc compare in severity with woman's " inhuwomanifcy " to woman.

"0. W." says that a'friend of his haying lost his wife, he remarked to that friend, the day: after the funeral, that he never taw a man take anything, so hard and weep so bitterly as he did at the house; to which the mourner responded, ~ "Oh,, pshaw; you'd oughter a seen me at the grave!" ;..' . ~

V Mr Speakab, Mr Sp#akah, I rise to ap'int of o'duh, Dar'a de man what done it," ejacu lated, a member of the Arkansas Legislature,, as he shook one hand frantically at the gallirj and mopped his head with,the other. -"Dal; dar cussed white man jes done, spit,down oj? de top o' my head." ■ v•>

A little girl braids the hair of one "who sat in front of her, instead of studying, when the teacher remarks: " Home is.!the place for arranging hair, not here. What would you think to see me braiding my hair in school?. Presently Susan's hand is raised, and the teacher,^ Bupposing she wishes to ask some question about. the leseon, nods, when she hears the . following." Mary says your hair is false, and you wouldn't dare to do it here!:'.-

One of the late new York; il.totratedTiu morous papers'has an''irresistible cut.. Thiis is this'is the scene: an old gentleman is walk ing in the ;garden.' the milkman along outside the highgardejn, wall.i Mid iglves his ' customary' yell. Old gentleman. Hears something, but, being very deaf, ie Tin able'to make'but just what ipwanted; so he puts'' his' 'ear trumpet in place, arid elevating 'the'lbeli' end, of it over the edge of the wall,' ieiclaimsj IfHere'!"'., Milkman tate3 it f.or '-k dish, emptiesl the quart of milk into tie oldT gentleman's ear, and, goes on .about". fiis business.' '," j ".,.''.!' .:► ~■. ■;./,.,..( t\ An Engiisn^lady, for thft;firsttime.fpjind -herself in a Barish phm^b.natjfar,fromOrath'ie, in a large pevroceupied by farmers and their jwives, OBe>,«r two' heraimeh-r^abbut^dozen \n all. "At vthe"'e'nd iof tethe Jfirst prayer there [was handed round the'peyr a large snuff mull.. The Ift3y passed it on, without taking a pitfch;' to her neighbour, an old herdsman. Just be fore 'the "sermon the mulli again made- the round,^4Bnd' Mrs. D—i—* again passed it'on a» befoie to>theve4d shepherd; bufc this time foe; retuenedi--it, : tayingi" to" * 'significant -tonic, "Tak' the sneeshin,' mem;-tak' the sneeshin'j ye dinna ken our minister y yell need it afore he's dune/- *«*r v >■ ;.' ■:'-;-■•' " ■•'-■'■

'■■ <i;lf there is anybody undei'tlfe1 canister' of heaTen'.that I Have hi1 'utter' "jSajß; Mrs. Partingtoni 1! "ifc:ris a1 tale-bearer' and' •lknderer;1 'going aWiit; r like a1 viie". boa con-: striio'tor, circulating His camomile ab^utHoties^ folks. .I always kpdw one "by' His philsirDa hdg6^yv' r X itfa'pi^ei him. with his' private 'sigriat^'and yvevj' iMiig "he", iboks'-at' appeari' 'Ho 'tur^n yallejK' 'And havlb g ufctisred ttiiij •bm'e^fi aVfelaboVate a'pijeobV she waii' seiied witk 1 a r!Violent fit of "cbaghing,' and, called for some denWilcent djrbpa.: r-;' rJi V,'! ; 'A. rapid and eniphatie,recital ( pf the' following, 'simple narrative i§ an" infallible, cnrp fo? li»p -.ing,:-—i^'JßCobba, mee|ts Snob^'s" TSbbbs :r Hobbs b,9vs. ie:Snobbs 'and ,*?obs j Hobbs. mobs' with' Snbbbs and 'robs"Tfpbbs',,fobs,' " Thisjs,",#ays Nobbs> ",,% wori^ bi H<)>bß Jjob;^'and sobs.'' ... jjjv . / a,:i ; JiAZABDOirB H3^a(KS.TT-Intbe course of-at recent lecture on ""Congregational Esalmodyj'/: the Rey. iDrl Allon noticed^ jojoaerof the.incon' grujlties tlytl; used M occur by. the aw.kward. division in repetition lines. For instance, •'Lore thee better than befpre'^was divid«d> 'LqT« th«Bb.etry, 'My poor pollutedrTbearlJ& becflt(i»si 'My poor: pol- r .;'i, SWe'll. cafcchfihe fleeting hour'? w«»T«ang 'We'll catqh.the fleer j'; -' take.;thy pilgrioi honje' Aecamej ' Anfli take thy pil- j. And in the pious'he delights' wjafiiiMA in J%e $Sfc* 'Sendl doT?p, salyatiotf .frjomi on high' became 'Send doVrnjal-.' !A U soprano in one cae«!saug ' Qhfor a man-.;' and fthe -c^ioijus responde4 'jQhj'Jfor;.ak|l!»ansion. in-. the skies.' In one case the soprano modestly, ißflp^ 'Teaoli m« to kite ;' th« alto took up tho itrain 'Teach me to iiis," while the bus Tendered it quite proaaic by singing cT«acb aie tokiss the rod.'jj '\>*&<sv i;/v ims\ ''■■■,'" ; | Count Jaubert had attacked Marshal Spult with a number of epigrams, and the Marshal meeting him at a reception turned his b*ck just as the Count^-waa^ coming f fojward to speak to Jb.im.. and this in t|^ presence ol tl^ir^: pebple. 'Monsieur le?Marechai,'said Jaubert, * I havejbeen feo;ld that you consider'tae. one of ypiu;l ■eiieiDies.' I see with pleasure that it s. ndt sol*.- r * Why riot, "sir/,, said, J3O%fit ,'. Because/ said, tfaubert^' you are not in this* Baiifc of turning'^ your. Vbaclc to - tij^e ei^enij'>' : ) THe Maysiial Jield out Ms Hand aild'ihe CJpiint's -su^qeas was .coiapleto. -\-.. Dentiat ballad—' Oh, wBOOan tell ih« jaws iwfbUT1; /,:- ; "''.."'. ' 'j•■ ■" r> ' " ; - ,

A Girl's Good Sense.

"Minnie! Minnie! is 'my chocolate near ready ?'* It was scrupulously'neat and dainty in all its appointments, the little, parlor where Mrs. Breighton sat, although the carpet was a tissue of darns, the; furniture faded, and the hearth-rug skilfully eked out by a piece of quite another fabric inserted in the' spot most worn. A few flowers, in a slender-throated rase, stood on the antique claw-legged table, the! fender-irons;: glit tered like gold; and the thin muslin curtains, mended here and there, -were-'white: as;snow; and Mrs. Breighten herself lookedlike'Cinderella's godmother, in her dress of ancient brocade, best, yellow lace, and the rings on her small;7 shrivelled hands. "~"~ ~ ~ ! Eighty.yeaTS old,; and a lady to the last I That' was something to be proud of. /What;though paralyswhad robbed her of all use of t,hose daintily slippered feet— what though the. grand, house, she had entered* as a bride was now narrowed j down Jtb this one room in a second-rate building,' where two other families also set up their household altars —she was a lady still,' i and she could boast that she never had degraded herself to common-! place, toi.l. : :,- • j :. . : ; "Our! means are limited, said old Mrs* ■Breightoh, ;with.the lofty air of a duchess ; " .but the pension of my son, the Colonel —-Who, as' you 1 probably may remember, was killed on the Florida frontier—is sufficient to maintain myself and my two granddaughters—and we are ladies." a■: > Minnie Breighton presently ■ came in with her little chpcolataire on a napkin* covered tray, and. slices of toast ex quisitely browned s^nd ..cut- as< thin asa wafer.,:. '\_ ..^. c ... .. '■■' aiuiij-uiip ; "I hope you haven't been kept wait ing grandma?" she"?said. /•■; 4 "My dear"-i-With an air of mild resignation-7-" I am accustomed towait." "O» t am- so, sorry! But our fire is j out, and I hadrto run an and borrow the use of Mrs..- Tucker:s stove, to, boil the chocolate,and—'',,.. ~,., ', • j- ; .; r Mrs." Breightpn contracted her silvery brow. ; . ' .': "The BreightOris are not a borrowing racei 'Minniev • :. . : . " Shall get you an- egg, grand - mamma?" : 1 • ■'■■ "'■"■'.■"■■ '■'■' " Not if the fire is out, my dear. And Grandmamma Ureighton went on with her f breakfast, wearing an injured air, while Minnie went back to the other room, where she sat with her twin sister, cogitating; ' . "''' '"",,, ;Anna Breighton was as pretty 'as Minnie, but in a different style.; She was dark, with melting, almond-shaped eyes, and olive, skin,,; and lips like a pome granate flower^ so perfectly, shaped, so richly red; while Minnie was tall.and slender, and fair as a daisy. Anna laid down a slip of greasy paper as Minnie entered. . "It's the grocer's, Jbill againy "sister> "What'shall we do ? " Minnie sank into-a chair. , •'-; J " And the gas yesterday, and ( the landir lord not paid, and the purse ..is empty as —Mother .Hubbard'g. cupboard. ' Whaj; shall we .do .; :- ;; " r ;-f "That's the question," said Anna reflectivelyarchittK her jetty brows. "If we "can only keep it from gTandmamma. " 5* We must,"-retorted Minnie with a; dedsive nod, '-'-it would:'kill her. If we were men, now. Nanny, we.gould go out and get a jofb 0^ wbo^sawing,, or house painting, or-4-"' " ( ,~. ';.-:. .-.' : " Arid^why cant #c how ?'" {\ { ■ ,; : , ; " "Why ? Because^Pat | .O'Neil .has; got all'",' Mrs. Barker's wood to saw, and be^ cause we can't climb ladders.withpaintj pots oyer,.oyr shpulder;?/'!'. s - '- "But; jve;c.aad<!>j something' elsei-.1l j su,ppqke. Q Ijißtfift. - ' Minnie^-moriey we [must h&re\"'r. is* ci«i wM«-ta^^ -"_" 1 ; "If-weogoout on"thenigh'Ways-and ask ;at^»t -*he of 1 baydnet,'' j interijected'Mi&nie grfive'lyV; n; ; 3 ' _ : . **Th«sreV iliio '-poVerby •lik6'i /genteel, ipotettyV'-'" hW^fiister''si^lieij.', Bu]t 'you laundress rnqurt6pVtory..|s,^ I K" :Wh£Fth6W? jno^vjejly^j 'nor,rye§^^ crisp p bank^nptea.to^ |bes.tpw!''aponLKeri" !f;?-.!-, :',-,i -.' •'■j; ■■• ci- ■; ■■•r^i • j'^And she can'fekg^p up to»3ier.epgage-,* ;ments.. ll ,Tlhei;e tnejmof Swiss muslin ball, •dresses/ "fluted riand; -beautifully, |lyingia her basket (Waiting to bedon© up,' at Jthisiipresents inbmenti ""Five < dollars; a-pieceshe.h«s,for theiai'* Ll ■ c . :':' i yvl 8hall;d(y th?m Up.";' By"" r l f: * ;- « NTmnyf '^ouP^f! ' *"1 "[ UV \nii^ :why i;n<it-P loVfiniint *hat;,a golden stream of Pactplus- ten, dollars jwduld fe *■ in bur i^npty t coffers !• ) Ask ifbJuMelf hb^w pn; ea^th ypu or^ I could baifh^^tW'dollars any other, Wfty? -:And/ after aU^^jSwiss muslin dress ip.,a pretty ppeticar^prtji9/'fabric,,ts waßb.«nd;iron ; and into the bargain, poor Mrs. Barker ' kfeps.Herj,cußtoiners,. ':'.v/ o.jt -■:■•.- 'a'-!:..,c*; I ";oh\ Nanny,. hfttfe^bu.-comiß to • thatP.'vri ,^h: ft] &IW i.i-i^r.i■ .:,! . i e^/i -Nowit^you look' and; talk efra'Ctrj1 like dear old • grandmamma! Ifoii'fc1 Jbp » f goose^ Minnie *P 'Jt^t1 * ydtt^inieiftr Sonic i atory -'about'taW rpr6metik"di,Btg/ihJi;Ke Jpark/ 1 or taking'lesVori'iin, wax-flower making to delii&el hfer°fereaul6'us JloulVw^ile^ljd upi* 'stairs and coin.monej?',"«,.." Jlt , e '-,, :- >■ may nelp youT" -\.J,\ . . ■, ! .'VBj L ran;d-byx^perh»p*s; ifmy-iwristß get tired. But nowj'sbiie^cme mustiatay with' grandmamma." ' t ii '*' !.i * •• f* . >/* : [ .ffiltm weiy stra»ige ? ""*iia Mil's Gf^eorgi ettetuippleton,-^ that my dreises;'haven't cjome^homcfel v \ Positively, I sBjJl have nothing to^we^fto-nighti"'' ./!' ; ; She 'WaW'lounging before tHese^fcoal; ?n]rer in Vblue/Bilk jeglig^, trinti^ied with swan-db^ii^ ap3 JPrench tangle qf bju6 i^bbbns tand ![ace rpinned among her yellow trijUs'fg fo^ wrhile a'ndvel lay in her lap. ~t : < ~; 1 «j -awful caW ! ""6bserve"d the , brother her carelessly. "Where's the amethyst silk P " , .> . ~. : ■~..- 4 i'-^s ' :■, !" Oh; I w6¥e: tlfat V their last Tecep tion." . .-,,,■ '■ "And the pink crape P*V . . :' " I 1 lobk like aKowlmipink^ |!iWa^« g<>ose «y^r. to buy that t feitk," i.. k:'.. ; " The ; :i J^ile,,% gKeea silk, with, flounces ?",*'. ■ ■i Howttrd ;has one juaf; a shad© ''■: lijjhter that she 1; bo sure tb wear, and I , belie'te the spiteful' &inj^gptitpaparpbß6 ' to kill:mi6e. ' .N;6,l':i&»tiiaTi::tlie:'SwisS|i'1 1 mtiilia Trith knots of bins corn flowers, 1 :..■, V,. "..-.,.,/,-,. ' -...^ •.. . ■'~;,, .;.!,..,..„„■ ' ~,,;

you'll go around to the laundress;, and ufy hurry her up a little, won't you, George ? jHji that's a duck of a brother!—and you M know perfectly well you've been yawning will your jaws off the last three-quarters of |-1| an hour." <'~. .. [• ■:■-., i I mjl "Where is it?" : ■•'■• . . l&fH "Only, in Mendenhall-street—just a MM pleasant walk. And to giro Mrs. Barker l.|||J a scolding, and ask her if she- don't know 110 better than to keep her customers wait- MM iDg—although of course, I know you 11 Hfl do nothing of the sort. Men have no jfcij i moral courage. There's the address on ||H a card. It'll be such a relief to my 1W Major George Appleton was an army Hfl officer, home on a furldugh, and rather Jim at a loss to know what to d» with so much. Jin extra time. Eich, which was another source H| of perplexity!—handsome, which wasn tso .tgy puzzling! ' ■ ~ V , inf! And so he sauntered; atong, his nandg W| in his pockets and a cigar balanced be- ■I tween his lipsi unconsciously advancing ,|H| to meet his fate. , ■, Mil Rap! rap! rap! The Major played* |H| tattoo witbJhiknuckles on the door. > jlj "Dear me, what a-noise! " said a voice |ly inside. " Come in !" a little louder. ||| The Major walked in to confront, not H a wrinkled old hag of a washerwoman in a j| halo of soap and steam, but a beautiful ■ young lady* and brilliant v as an 111 Arabian dream, with jetty curls pinned | back in a silken cascade ,at the ba«k of W her head, and a pair of fluting; scissors in. gj her hand. -.^ t IB - Major Appleton started back,' »11 Jus Jlfij wits momentarily deserting him., Itis* Kg curious fact that the more embarrassed l||| one party in a tete-a-tete/becomes,? the i| greater' -iV the; composiire of the othen In Anna Breighton'should have colored and |jj stuttered at? being-' caught thus, but she |j didn't. '■:--•''' »*ilji) "''>}^-' % - w HHr£ rS"'-jM "What's ;youf j business,;;sirr j^sne Ib| asked, with greatestcalmness. '.;^ « jljil "It'g^ilt's; abbutniy lister's gowa-*^ Ijfl Miss Appletoh's you know ? " P ■ ¥$$$■% ill - "Ah ! y said Anna.''^ I ho-pe to ha#eit ;Wj y«ady very^ soon. If! you'll wait ten Hi minutes you may ckwrydt homel r •- <^ :!-* Kj And she took a second pair of flutjnj? jHI scissors from the stove, te^tingitsihftat by ■JI holding-it dangerously near her yelTet Wa\ cheeks ;<..-ii-:;-\£ / 1,;;'- r""7 3{ '" "'^ V'^'-'aH Major Appleton,' not 'being posted in ||,i| etiquette and general- decorumi; saw^ no h arm in carrying' home a basket of nawli* ;jß| laundriedelothesU So he sat down^arid lUj waited/ While honest Mrs. Barker started || fromI''the other room, where fshe lay npon l|j| her bed—a captive 'to rheumatio jKjj pains.:" : ■. •_ . • --' >!•■'.= l;j :^ : yf£:\ Ml "She'sin ahurryi youknowi said^tfta. «| Major, twirling his-thumbs, and thinking HI how very the"girl was. - <■ : -. Ml : .^BO. am; If said- Anna, making Mm fluting scissors glide in and outinia:most'7B| marvellous manner'among the olbuds of vffll sunny musliia. : ; v' ; > v< 111 "She- wants to wear, it;' addwl^ww HI Majors "But tsayyou-^knowH-youirei ■I not a regular washerwoman ?" : 1 41 iV< '■ jl;I • Annar; slightly straightened; Jw[ ";My father'Waß a Colonel in thp r^*; H lar armyiJ My grandfather ill Breightoni of Breighton Manor,;on the 111 BTudson.i;>But We^are reduicednowi and Wja see need^money r; and lam not ashamed HI 3o^6rk??;D»P'r73 ;---;;. - ':^^ 5*r v-l, t ;;■-,"-:j;;. I M'^By; Jovei you're a "taiaip r"vsaia, ■ Major Appleton|i«tarting upi» :' . =-h-f f-1,-'- .H ' * Much obliged-to you," ietorted Annajr '■ wifo sparkling(eye». " Woidd you; n^fid4 ■ lolding ifce-saStt r fofme^-gust a second ■ irliileiLflnish'thisldop?'' \ . "•■■' l' r ;y y'.''"-'-M * Ands when Minnie Qsatn#i:up t& sese= holr> » ler sister was getting on, she^found her^ ; ; tided and? abetted by tKe^MJajor of caTalryil * vho was heatiD.^ the alternate pairs of ■; irfuting icissort^ after5 af rmo&t^ scientififl ifalh'ioa.^ -' i*'"'?, °r- ' i 0 ' Vi(n i%^- "/ ;2''s ' ! i'ilfear';m&;"said Miss'Appbt6n,ftwhen^ !at iiast! herf brother! made- bis1 'a^pSwS* lanc©,^* tow long you have besto.''»■ YP.-^ j ■'?■ Yesjy yslwl rHhe'; Majors rubbing %ii? |hand* with :*tf; appearance of great s^tisi jfactiottil us^qaite'ia While, to" \ |fini»b:Hh roii¥ list thirteen fl6uncest*'> Ai&W || ] -4'tTs ■■V\'*povL^don 'finean'to saj that yoii* ]■ helped th^walsherWbWanP'^: $f.'' -;-' 1 frus&lisy-I •"•_ i«faid the Majo^ i '-^and - -;w |the*ockß are' down stairs, an^#mg«iiiif;; >| tup; for* k gam^'of billiards." Aslhe wwat 1 ]| 1 jhe murmured to Mnaself, - ''-I though* *tf> M Wirls wer»"«lilie, -bttt 1 believe I've' diii^ i jcotered^ue^indepettdent Tone at las : t4' ft( I ! " Grafldmamma, Tm going to M jmarried." 7-7-*^- --—--. ■ "'.. j I "You, t liWn'y?taSV^yM\Jrebuta J -^rrr ;■,,.- -' •-.; . l j her grandmother's chair, and the fairy j godmother, wai ; stroking her.curls with, j one. "tremulouß,':'white^handt where, I'ttie_ kntique. jewels,shone like dropiiof Wood | knd scintillating. sparkles ofi -green fire, i Mil'm ]8; grandmamma:'' 0--;- y.o« «re! 4 How Hhe time flieji Eighteen <'year* 'old!*; But;wlio'ii the■ :^ \.:~^^;i.ee''ftO/'ao^^worthy :w ; ' of ourselvesV^Nannyi and~!7.. t;' k": ;■' '\ '-T^S ! " I'm sure ybu^will like him, grand^ r mamma. ■coming'-*to,:.;pay ,''.ju^ ■ ■ ws:pec|»^>i^:l^ntq^^B^. r His ..name is' c Major t Geor^e^APP^^h:-sfl^iW'iiifetfcaio —Cavalry, and he owns a home on Madi sqn a^venue, a,4d--and he loves me, grand- - \ inamma."-^ .>-•-■;>: ~.ib«.,':■■,.'>,. ■ xtis* .;« nfr»« : ! Nanny held her black-tressed head on the old lady's shoulder as-she spoke thee lasttWords.- -\yy- a ; "--.-/-- :; ■-■•:- '■'■y> "'■■ | I \M.''AU'oaj6n^;Btioiigbi'i^'dotfr^]mi<l^*! you Jove him P"* iv -,' ■ ;; '-'-;: '■"■ ' j "Ye^ grandmamma." ! "|ltn'd K where 'did^ yon me6t him T'''' Wheirf were:you^in^r6duced f" : ,r '. j ~; r i '/' t wasn't introduced at all," returneji^' Nanny; witli of flam* coming".and g<?|pg'W'^S^^J68 *,• 't*-jr, ■$**■*$ fluting muslin, up in Mrs. Barker's r00m,.. . when he came,in oaan errand ; and—oh I■„; \ grandmamma, you have always thought 8 1 it so dreadful to, work. But if I hadn't^ been working, I never should have met - I him. And I love him so much, gra'id- ; " mammail".^-'^-,-^'''-/'-.^^- -■*;■ ";:-; ■-*?■■- "■■* J"'-* n ' ! m'llv^;;w4l^u^^'ciild' r M^^t&erf^ reluctantly; 'fthitfgs seem.to be alteredfex rom what they were WhWlr was a girK^^gl ; ";But you shall live with us always, granny dear, and Minnie, too, and we. shall be so happy." ; , ... , ; And Anna Breightoa's tears were tears of perfect joy. -. . '■./. . ...... ■. ■■ , i

. ;. ,-■ '■• ■ ■■tn..,ii, .ur ;.' L 1... 1 ; —g='- "■-• ■ ---■■:■-;■■■■ i V--- ; --/. -■■' ■""•-.'■ " A. Bljooin^kw' jwa| taieu up for -bigsnijMgi. iad brouguf. before the sitting ip&g!Btxp|g|||§ ''^nbio&;"Sflfe," asiad a bystander, "will lie be obliged to Uke ?" Sm^f jy^ftyß t»»dy •* i Joke, r«pUe^l'3V;- ia v a »btf**t_ ft* §i

~ : m » ~..- ,t,, ••.,. , m;v\p mm sr ien m ? ic^raaa. ■. ...__, BOTPLffImST TO THE AtTC&LANP EVENING STAB,