{hat even I shall hear nothing further of hat kind from you. Comfort yourself with the thought that you have been saved in *ime from a serious error. But you caied for him, too—you 'fi nt highly of him/ . <1 do not deny it; but now he is lost. Tt is a pity ! is a happy thing that his father is not alivo to see it. Ah, the world, the werld-and youth!' The governor rode toward the citadel. A3a 3 he ascended the hill he saw a man crouched down and wthi upraised hands following him. He stopped ; and the man Uhaface of anguish cried out; 'Oh what good fortune—that I should meet y°lt'was the released prisoner. He re lated how Hauenstein had given him his freedom; that he had promised to return before tho relief arrived ; that he could not keep his word, for when he reached his home his wife lay in a deep sleep. For three days she had not closed her eyes, but had cried out for him without ceasing, 'so he sat by her bed', hour after hour passing away ; he sought to leave her-to keep his word— but he could not leave her. The sick woman woke, and died in his arms. He besought that the lieuten ant ini*ht not be made to suffer, because hehadfor one hour permitted the heart beneath his uniform to s peak. The gover nor only said ; 'Goodj Announce your

He' turned about, and considered whether he should tell Gabrielle that the prisoner had voluntarily given himself up again. If he should tell her, it would seem' like a consent. It was better, therefore, that sho should suffer; for then she would tear him from her heart in her suffering. Hauenstein must still be punished ; and all his life he must remain under suspicion. The governor rode home and asked for his daughter. He was told she had driven out. Whither ? The name of the village was given in which the family fo the law-copyist lived. His horse was still saddled, and the governor rode after his daughter, and found her in the house of mourning with the prisoner's daughter: Gabrielle came to meet him, crying: ' The man has kept his word—and our friend is free!' The governor entered the carriage with his daughter, and said: ' How could you as my daughter, so far forget yourself as to come here?' ' 0 father, precisely because I have the happiness to have you for my father precisely because we grow up and live in circumstances of safetly.it is our duty to help and guide the erring.' The governor looked at his child with amazement; she seemed to hin. to have developed into fuller life with this one day. Gabrielle locked herself up in her chamber at home, and wrote all day and 'almostall night long. It was evening. Tea was served in the royal palace. The princess said : ' Dear Countess Truben, have you not received a letter Irom your neice ?' 'Yes, indeed.' She presented Gabrielle's letter, and the princess said : 'It is very long; will you not read it aloud ?' And the countess read her niece's touching letter—of the death of the young Pole and the return of the law-copyist; and, unconsciously Hauenstein was shown forth in it in his full brightness. Especi ally the descripton of the family and the house, and how the prisoner tore himself away from the corpse, was deeply path etic. One passage of the letter had to be read twice over. It ran:—

'I have looked into an utterly strange world. These are men of another religion, which they call political freedom, and are ready for every martyrdom. Is not love and forbearance also taught toward them ? They have firm faith in their religion. As I stood by this girl, whose father is in prison and her mother dead—''Ah !' I cried, 'that one is indeed blessed by God, who, seated upon a throne, can grant par don and mercy here.' A few days after, a pardon came ; the law-copyist was released. With his daughter he emigrated from the country. Hauenstein was compelled to pass through along arrest within the fortress ; and only at tho storming of the works at Diippel did he win back his full soldier's honor, at the same time that he earned his fame. The faith of the lovers proved victorious over all obstacles and opposition. In the letter written by the emigrant to Hauen stein on his marriage was this passage : — ' She has done much that is good and beautiful for you aud for me; it will be her blessed lot to continue to do whet is good and noble throughout a long life,'

A lady never looks so killing as when you tread on her dress.

Snoring ia politely described as indulging in sheet music.

When are ripe potatoes in the ground like thieves ? Because they ought to be taken up.

It is a fact that when people come to what is commonly called high words, they gener ally use low language.

It is as easy to deceive oneself without per ceiving it as it is difficult to deceive others without their finding it out.

Reculatlng usually begins with speculating. It ia the second stage of the same complaint, and usually proves fatal.

Personal beauty is a letter of recommenda tion written by the hand of Nature, but not .infrequently dishonoured by the bearer.

An actress is told by a critic that among the rudiments which she has yet to learn is the fact that her nose is tow pretty to be l-\ked through,

Don't Forget Your Poor Old Mother.

One afternoou nearly twenty years ago, a young man was actively engaged be hind the counter of a general store, in the interior of New South Wales. The day was wet, and customers were scarce ; so Mr. Bustle, who was a careful economist of time, as well as of his means, employed himself in dusting and re-arranging the scanty assortment of goods on his shelves —for he wisely endorsed the old adage, ' that goods well kept are half sold.' If rats ana mice were not entirely excluded from his premises, it was not the fault of Benjamin Bustle ; and they had not a very peaceable time therein. They were not allowed to nestle their mischievous brood among the prints and calicoes on his drapery shelves, nor to burrow undisturbed into the cheeses, packages of starch, or other favourite commodities on the grocery side of his shop. Mr. Bustle was an indus trious man, and, although but a young beginner in business, with a very small capital, at a time of almost general distress and commercial stagnation throughout the colony, he was nevertheless, a thriving man, because he managed to live below his income. Thus he gradually increased his stock, which, as I before stated, he took care to keep in good saleable condition. Mr, Bustle had just given the finishing touch to his haberdashery shelves, on the afternoon referred to, and was standing gazing on his little stock-in-trade (which he knew was all paid for), and wondering whether he would have sufficient cash, by the ensuing week, to enable him to re plenish his store from the Sydney market, when in walked Mr. Dubbs, a gentleman who resided in the neighbourhood.

' I have called to ask you, Mr. Bustle, if you will buy a bank draft on London for £25/ said Mr. Dobbs. ' I received it a day or two ago, and commercially speak ing, it is of no use to me, for, you know, lam not in business. I shall be glad if you will cash it for me. You shall have it for £24,.'

'jlfjl bought it, I should have to resell it in Sydney, said Mr. Bustle, ' and I do not know the present rate of exchange. I have no use for it myself, for I am not in a position to import goods from England, though I hope to do some day. lam much obliged to you for offering the draft to me, but I must decline purchasing it.' ****** 'Is anything troubling you, my dear ?' inquired Mrs. Bustle, when her husband sat down to tea, an hour or two afterwards, in an unuasully thoughtful mood. ' No, love ; nothing is actually troub ling me,' replied Mr. Bustle, ' but I can not remove an impression from my mind that I ought to buy that bank draft which Mr. Dubbs offered me this afternoon, and send it to my mother. Since tho lamented death of several members of my family I have been uncertain as to her pecuniary position: and I feel a strange uneasiness on the subject to-night nor can I reason it away.' ' Well, my dear, buy the draft, and send it by the first ship that sails to England,' replied Mrs. Bustle. 'If you think your mother wants it, send it by all means ; it is a positive duty.' ' I do not see that I can afford it,' said Mr. Bustle, musingly. ' I want to go to Sydney to buy goods next week, and the purchase of that draft would take nearly half my stock of ready money. You know it is useless to ask for credit, now that failures are so frequent, and almost every person is viewed with distrust. No, I cannot afford to be over liberal just now. I will, however, write and ask mv mother how she is circumstanced ; and if I learn that she requires pecuniary aid from me, I will send it at once. A few months.' delay will not matter much to her, and I shall be able to spare money more conveniently bye and bye. I could turn that £24 twice over in the interim. Yes, that is the best plan,' added Mr. Bustle decisively; and then he began to converse upon some other subject, and tried to banish the bank draft from his thoughts altogether. That night, after he retired to bed. he was unusually restless, and in some unaccountable way his thoughts per sistently dwelt upon the purchase of the draft. There he lay, rolling about as restless, as if he had a heavy draft to pay, and no money to pay it with. Vainly he tried to woo "'Nature's soft nurse ;' she would not be wooed by him.- At length, he felt so strongly the desire to send the draft home, that he resolved to do it, and very soon after he had thus decided he fell asleep. The next morning he informed his wife of his resolution, and she kindly com mended it. That same day the draft was purchased, and enclosed in a long loving letter to his dear mother, far over the sea ; and then Mr. Bustle went about his usual occupations, cheerful and happy, under the sense of having* performed an imperative moral obligation. ******

Reader, please let your fancy fly .forward a few months from the date of my story, and then take a long leap with me oyer the vast expanse of ocean, which rolls its rugged waves between this great continent and the dear little island almost beneath us, whither our hearts' fond affections so often wander in rapture, tinged with melancholy. Accompany me, in imagina tion, into a humble, 'though comfortable cottage, in one of the rural parts of old England. 'Tis a cold winter's day ; _ the leafless hedgerows are white with rime, and the north-east wind is howling

through the tree-tops, like the weird voice of famine. Inside that cottage we see an aged widow bowed down with grief. She as sitting all alone, mourning for dear ones recently gone to the grave, She is sighing, too, for an absent son, far away —one whose manly arm that she at one time fondly hoped would be the stay of her declining strength; whose youth ful energy would be exerted to minister to her wants when infirmity precluded all activeeffortsonherpart. ' Ah|!'she sighs,' ' I once had a devoted son beside me, whose fond embrace often cheered my widowed heart, and whose endearing words often lightened my heavy burden of anxiety. Frequently in his boyhood days has he hung about my neck, and whispered in my comforted ears —' dear mother!'

"When thou art feeble, old, and grey, My healthful arm should be thy stay I" 'Yes he sincerely meant it too; and, were he near me now, he would shield me to the utmost of his power from aught that threatens my comfort and peace. But ah, dear boy! little does lie know my present indigence, or, far as he is from me, he would find means to succour me. I will not doubt his affection. How can I ? But he is far away from me, and months must elapse before I can let him know my position- Meantime, lam here alone—bereaved, and overwhelmed with sorrow. Gaunt poverty is at my door, and my threadbare purse contains my last shilling. Very soon my little household comforts, and all those trea sured mementoes of happier days, must be sacrificed to supply my actual neces sities. My lot is hard, and I cannot but weep over it.'

' But, praise God ! though cast down, I am not in despair,' says the widow, as a gleam of heavenly sunshine makes her smile through her tears. ' I am not alone, for the' God of the widow' hath promised never to leave me, nor forsake me. ' I will trust and not be afraid.' She reaches a book from a Bhelf beside her —the Bible—whose sacred pages her late beloved husband had often bedewed with tears of joy and gratitude during long years of sickness. ' This precious book abounds with comforting promises,' says the widow,' and they are all as sure as the glories of Heaven.' She opens tho book, and reads a text specially marked by the pencil of her late afflicted hus band. —' I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.'

But look outside the cottage for a mo ment, reader! See the village postman hastily approaching with his letter-bag strung before him. Scarcely has the poor widow read the comforting passage just quoted, when she is startled by the sharp rap-tap of the postman at her door; she hastens to open it, and receives into her trembling hands a registered letter from her absent son, containing the bank draft for £25, and an affectionately word ed promise that he will henceforward supply her with the means of procuring every material comfort she needs, as long as she shall live.

That promise was faithfully kept; and so far from growing poorer, Mr. Bustle rapidly grew rich. I have often heard him say, that it was one of the happiest reflections of his lite, that he did not EOBGEX HIS POOH OLD JIOTHEII.

Curious Indian Relics.

Those interested in antiquarian researches will find matter for specula tion in some curious Indian relics deposited in the Centennial case in the rotunda of the Southern Hotel. The relics consist of numerous specimens of aborigipal pottery, arrow-heads, implements of stones for dressing skins, etc. The pottery is parti cularly worthy of note, as it belongs to a period dating anterior to the modern i Indians—supposed by some to belong to that mythical period known to ethnologists as the stone period, and are found strewn all over the continent. The pottery was found in the ancient tumuli about two and a half miles from Farmington, in St, Francois county. They consist princi pally of drinking vessels made of baked clay, and are in general gourd-shaped, with the neck extending out straight from the centre of the globular vessel. The head of the upright neck is frequently capped with the rude head of the fox or other wild animal, forming a very correct likeness. One of the vessels represents a bird standing on its legs, the body form ing a capacious vessel for the holding of water, with the tail on a level with the claws, and assisting in keeping the vessel, upright. The vessels are of various sizes, from eight inches in diameter across the swell of the globe down to a miniature pot the size of a modern salt-cellar. In one of these vsssels was found a specimen of calcspar, and in another a fragment of a quartz crystal. The larger vessel, which is a very perfect oblate spheroid, is surrounded with colored zigzag bands, tinted with blue, Vermillion, and white, but whether the colors are imbedded in the material or put on with a brush is uncertain, though on casual inspection the former conjecture seems to be true. Be sides the drinking dishes there are some shallow vessels resembling the chemists evaporating dish, and also a small spoon silicified with the bowl adapted to a capacious mouth, and with a very short handle. There are also numerous frag ments of pottery. Among others a flat tened stone, roughened on, one side with

[ geometrioal lines, and said to be a piece lof a coffin found in the tumuli. The I person who was digging in the locality struck two inclined stones, and keeping on with' his work at length came to a stone slab, and on removing the slab found underneath a stone coffin. The coffin was filled with sand, but having nothing but a grubbing-hoe, as fast as he hauled out the sand the overlying dirt tumbled down and interrupted his work. He finally became discouraged, and re placing the slab and shovelling on the dirt, allowed the old mummy, whose sands of life were running too fast for him, to sleep away until some future explorer resurrects him. It is to be regretted that these exhumations are not made by persons qualified to make a note of the associated relics,- their exact position, and other data, with a view of determining and settling the question of their origin. Otherwise they are comparatively worth less, except as objects of curiosity. It is said that many of these remains are found very plentifully throughout Southeast Missouri, particularly near St. Gene vieve and in Scott county. In fact, these vestiges of a once numerous and powerful race are traceable from the rude forti fications of Canada and Northern New York to the extensive rivers of Central America. But according to Prof. Gage, who examined the specimens at the Southern yesterday, all the Peruvian type of pottery found on the continent of North America are confined to the Mississippi Valley. The specimens re ferred to were brought up by Captain A. L. Whitley, of St. Louis, who is acting as a volunteer agent for the Centennial.— 'St. Louis Kepublican.'

Rambles in Canada.

Liverpool has often been called the capi tal of tho commercial world. Viewed apart from its commercial pre-eminence it is the chief port of departure of emigrants for America. There you may see almost daily a stream of people of various nation alities wending their way to one or other of the steamship companies docks. During the summer months of 1872 and 1873 it was estimated that for successive weeks a thousand people left that port daily for Canada and the United States alone. Being bound for Canada, we book our selves by the ' Moravian' of the Allan line. By 10 a.m. we are all on board, and the ship drops gently down the Mersey. Punctuality is assured, for our vessel is under contract for carrying the mail. The decks are soon cleared of luggage and we begin to look about us. English, Scotch, Dutch, Germans, Norwegians, Danes, and other nationalities are represented on board, and having touched at Moville, the land of St. Patrick contributes its quota to our living freight. Soon the deep blue sea is reached, and. a feeling of nausea pervades our cosmopolitan community. To attempt a description of our passengers in this condition would be unfading, sufficient to say that the smell of a ship with its tar, paint, pea-soup, bilgo water, and othor effluvia, has ever since been associated in my mind with that interest ing phenomenon, sea-sickness. Nothing of moment occurs till we are off the banks of Newfoundland, where a dense fog obli ges our skipper to hove-to. The huge fog horn gives out its unearthly sound, answered occasionally by other sounds of a like nature, but«?ur vision is confined to half the length of the ship. A peculiar . chilly sensation proclaims tho proximity ' of ice, or as the sailors say ' we smell ice bergs.' With a gentle breeze the fog clears away, and there, right ahead of us is a mountain of ice, presenting the most fantastic shapes and occupied by myriads of sea-birds. Soon others appear like the bold outline of a rocky promontory in the distance. Tho land at length actually does come under our observation, and we are steaming through the straits of Belle Isle.

The coast ofLabrador is plainly to view, and occasionally a fishing hamlet in some snug corner proclaims itself by a few boats riding at anchor. Once inside the island of Anticosti, the coasts is seen on both sides, andalthough the month in June, and we left England in the full bloom of summer, the snow-covered ranges here still tell the struggle that is going on be tween summer and winter. The river St, Lawrence is a noble stream, and seems well in keeping with the grandeur of the surrounding scenery. Yes! it is a charac teristic of America, that nature displays herself on a grander and loftier scale than in Europe. Her rivers, lakes, waterfalls, forests, aud plains, are all evidences of this, and the very vault of the heavens seems more spacious, owing probably to the peculiar transparency of the atmosphere. The French settlements on the banks of the river suggest the idea of a peaceful and wonderful life. They seldom receive any addition to their population from with out, perhaps for no other reason than because they are not far enough west, for it is the prevailing idea with new arrivals throughout Canada, and the United States, that their fortunes will improve the farther they go west. But it is time we landed, and here we are opposite the ancient city of Quebec. The heights of Abraham, of historical memory, are plainly visible, but the town itself is hid from our view. Our landing place is on the opposite side from the city, at a place called Point Levi, and which by the way, should have been called ' Leave us,'- for it seems to have been called into existence for no other reason, and its inhabitants evidently live by

supplying the immediate wants of imme grants. Chief among these wants seem to be bread, cheese, milk, and whisky, especially the latter. Our passengers are pouring out at all ports along the ship fore and aft, luggage (now baggage) is being rapidly hauld on deck.; and sent down a wooded slide. A fair index to the social status of the passengers can be gathered from this baggage. There is the new dove tailed tool chest of the mechanic, the old oak chest that has lain for ag?s in some country farm house, the smart papered trunk of the maid servant; the leather portmanteau of the business man; the last new outfit trunk fresh from some London firm, the owner of which is busily engaged discussing the merits of a new revolving rifle. The excitment and bustle attending the landing and inspection of baggage over, various groups are to be seen attentively listening to the gratuitous advice of gentlemen who are instructing them in the ways of the country.

They are agents sent to advocate the advantages of the provinces they repre sent, which;they s 'don't fail to do to the dis paragement of every other. From this place you have the choice of either railway or steamboat as a means of travel. The steamboats are built on the latest American principle, so as to include all the luxuries and convenience of a first class hotel with the quality of fast sailing. The Grand Trunk Railway of Canada is one of the oldest lines in America, and is of the 6 ; feet guage. Running parallel as it does with the river St. Lawrence and the chain of lakes, it is brought into close competition with the river steamers during the summer months when most of the business is done, and in winter the cost of clearing the track of snow is immense. The result is that the lino has never paid interest on the capital invested, and the track is much out of repair. We can ride in a Pulman Palace car by a fast express train, or we can go by the emigrant train, which starts about the small hours of tho morning. We shall choose the latter for two reasons ; first, because it is cheaper; second, be cause, like the immortal Pickwick, we like to study human nature. Here we have as much human nature as we can desire packed into the smallest possible space. To bo sure the gentleman with the revolv ing rifle went by tho express, and a few commercial men, but the bulk are left. After baggage has been all' checked' and put aboard, tho bell rings and a rush ensues for the cars. They are quickly filled and others are attached, till at length all aro somehow packed in, and the train starts for Montreal. We are soon con scious of various sensations. First is a violent jolting and shaking sensation, something like riding very fast in a har vest waggon on a rough road. Next comes a stifling sensation, and a rush is made to let down the windows. A very dim light in each carriage serves to render : oue another partially visible, and we are enabled to watch with interest the various attempts that are being made to settle comfortably down. We pick our way laboriously through the carriages, step ping carefuily over and between the chil dren on the floor. We often stop and try to identify the owners of these olive branches, and the relationship subsisting between the adults themselves, who are so thickly packed and so strangely mixed as apparently to lose all separate identity. In one corner may be seen a man with a red handkerchief round his neck and in his hands a bird-cage, the occupant of ! which is vainly trying to go to roost in the orthodox manner. Next him a man in a long-tailed blue coat is quietly dis cussing some blackish-looking bread and a roll of meat. Then will come five or six of both sexes reclining on each other at an angle of 60. A gentleman is singing 'We won't go home till Morning' so loudly and energetically as to maise us suspect he has been cultivating an intimate acquaintance with Canadian whiskey. Our suspicions amount to a certainty when we see him divert himself by attacking two or three unobtrusive people in tha train, which presently stops to allow the eccentric gentleman to aligntat no station in particular and apparently against his own inclination.

In the meantime the lamp grows more dim and a yellow light steals m through the windows. We hasten outside on to the platform to view the surrounding country, but find we are travelling through dense.thickets of Canadian|balsam. Occasionally the train stops a. some enormous wood-pile to take in fuel aud water, but no human habitation is visible. The man with the bird-cage fails to appreciate the sublimity of a Canadian forest, and offers a preference for London ' with five meals a day and a lunch every half-hour ' before this ' wooden country.' We enter forosts of bush, hemlock, and ma,ple, with here and there a rude clear ing grown with timothy grass and red-top clover. The train suddenly stops, and we find ourselves at a small wayside station with the prospect of a breakfast before us. The breakfast room is rushed much the same as the train at Point Levi, and the several viands disappear in the most lively manner These willcomprise|porkand beans, buckwheat pancakes and molasses, chops and steaks with mashed potatoes, crackers and cheese, warm biscuits and butter, with tea and coffee.

The waiters are all busily engaged during the meal collecting the.price of the breakfast, so that each occupant of a seat must eat what is immediatefy in front of him.

' AU aboard,' the bell rings, and wear©

E^eadu^ gtgg May 20 9 IS^@