" Let me catch him unlocking your doors," growled Pierre. " Ah, but you never will," answered the young gentleman, rising, and pacing to and fro, excitedly. " That is just what makes it so intolerable. I cannot move hand or foot in retaliation. And I am conscious, all the time, that he is hard at work, prying, ferreting, worming out everything I" " Pierre cast a wondering gla;>ae at his master's troubled countenance. " That was a wretched mistfke, mailing those letters in Wales," mutte ed the latter again. " But who could have guessed all this hue-and-cry was to be raised, or that thi3 meddling rascal was to put in an ap pearance ?" Pierre busied himself in brushing the garments he had brought out to take the place of the velvet dressing-gown when his young master should be disposed to visit the street, and kept discreet silence. " You Yeafaithful fellow, Pierre,"declared Konrade Earle, stopping suddenly beside the old servant. " Why don't you fling at me your earnest entreaties, which I «J stub bornly refused? Why don't you say that you implored me not to go off in that strange fashion? Why don't you Bay I deserve the dilemma in which I find my self? You ought to be thinking it." " Oh, no. Mister Konrade. I'm enly thinkinV h w T •MnM ''"'^ fr> *h-m«h thnt slanderous American." The young aristocrat laid his white hand on the old nervunt's shoulder with an affec tiulliii-C UiwWiJ. •' Pierre, old fellow, you're a faithful soul. If I could make everybody else have your trustful affection ! And you know, for cer tain, many damaging evidences which they, at best, can only suspect. There's no use denyingjit, I am in an awkward position, and only the most diplomatic skill will extricate me." Pierre echoed the disconsolate sigh with which he ended. " You know there's nothing I won't do to help you, sir. I've got a poor head for planning, but I can do most anything I'm sot at." "I know that, Pierre, I know that. It is the knowledge of what is best to do that I am sighing for myself." Pierre looked at him wistfully. "If you please, sir—you'll pardon my making so bold, because you mentioned it yourself—if you would listen now to my most respectful entreaty—oh, Mr Konrade, rind somebody wise and strony, and—and tell him what the secret is—oh, Mr Konrade, do !" "The secret !"stammered the young man, quite taken aback, it would seem, by this sudden and vehement appeal, for his in genuousfaceflushedcrimson. "Why,Pierre, old fellow—" For Pierre was almost crying, and shaking from head to foot with agitation. " Yes, yes—l haven't tried to pry—oh, I haven't, Mr Konrade, and I've done my best to shut my eyes when I knew you didn't want me to see ; but I know well enough there's a black, ugly .secret that is eating out the strength of your heart. Oh, tell it to some good man, and let him ?how you what is right to do. And don't blame me for being so presumptuous. It is my love for you—the love little Bonr-.ibel told me to give you with her dying lips—that makes me say it. Oh, Mr Konrade, don't wear voursclf out keeping the secret alone !" Konrade Eatle's iiush, whether of shame or indignation, died out speedily, and left his face pale and sad. " Xt tv, Brute!" he said mournfully, and went back to the table, and sat down there, leaning his head wearily on his hand. A long, long oilencoeuoued, during which he was absorbed in some deep and painful reverie, and poor Pierre, holding the coat nervously, stood watching him, ready to cry outright for fear that he had given mortal offence to his beloved master. Presently the latter drew toward him an ink-tray and portfolio, and began writing, at first slowly and cautiously, with many pauses to bite dubiously at his pearl-handle? pen, and to thrust his lingers backward and forward in his luxuriant, curl}' hair. But presently a bright red spot gathered in either cheek, hi* eyes Hashed with inspira tion or emotion, and his pen raced furiously across the lines, and, except for one or two sharply drawn breath?, he made no further pause until every part of the snowy sheet was covered. The daintily crested en velopes provided on the tray were then in spected, and rejected. "Bring me a plain, brown envelope, will you, Pierre?" he said gently. Pierre dropped the coat, and clasped his hands in an ecstasy of relief. There was no anger in his master's voice. He ilew to execute the commission, and returned promptly. " Here it is, sir, thank you," he said. Konrade smiled languidly. " It seems to me I am the one to give thanks." "Oh, but you are so good to overlook " began Pierre. Once again that shapely white hand was laid on Pierre's shoulder with a friend's con fidence and trust. "Pierre, my man, I haven't any too many loyal hearts among my list of friends ; I can't afford to lose yours. See here ! I tell you that this is a letter of great import ance. Direct it in you* handwriting to this address I have written on the slip of paper. Hide it as you go out, and with your own hands mail it, whore those watch ing %'ampircs cannot reach it to suck out its secret. Be suro that you do not trust it off your person until it is in official hands ; for, I tell you, this Sir Frederic Mildmay and his ally are moving more potent levers than you dream of, all with the intent to compass my ruin." " You need not fear its safe delivery. AVhy may I not carry it myself, instead of posting ?" began Pierre, eagerly, but stopped abruptly as Earle's finger pointed to the American address. "Get it safely to the post—that is all you can do ; and don't be tempted to drink or sleep until it is out of your possession. It is my firm belief that your nap yesterday was a drugged one, and that these rooms were searched over thoroughly. Thank Heaven, there was nothing fatal here !" Pierre ground his teeth at the very sug gestion ; but he sat down to the table and directed the envelope, which his master carefully sealed, though he refrained from stamping the wax. (To be Continued.)

One day a thirsty Irish labourer entered -a small dairy and greengrocery combined, and asked the shopkeeper " how he sold the buttermilk." " A penny a yarti," re plied the pert huckster, meaning to take a "rise" out of poor Paddy. " 111 be after wanting a couple ov them," quoth Pat. Nothing daunted, the would-be wag drew with his finger a long thin line of the ghostly fluid the entire length of his counter, at the same time regarding his customer with a very seli-satisned smirk. " I think I'll be after drinking yer honour's health while yez are putting it up in a piece of paner for me, said Pat, and, suiting the action to the word, he lifted a small pan of cream which stood on the counter, and, raisins it to his lips, drained it at a draught before the chagrined salesman realised what he was after, and was out at the door. All his nonplussed creditor caught was— itT.. I i_ri. ill! 11_ J c v

HOW A SCANDAL WAS CRUSHED.

WIIEK Jack Harwood heard the story which his cousin, pretty Mrs Ainslie, un folded to him, it seemed almost incredible, though he knew what a foolish, im petuons girl she was. But her evident distress convinced him that she was in earnest. "Do you really mean to say that Carruthera is cad enough to refuse to return the letter J" he exclaimed, in amaze ment. "I as«ure you I almost went on my knees to him the other night at the Beresfords' ball," returned Mrs Ainslie, excitedly. " But he only laughed in his sneering mj, and said he should keep it as a curiosity." " Was that after you explained the cir cumstances J" asked Jack. "Oh, yes ! I made a clean breast of my foolishness. It was humiliating, but it was the only thing to do." "What did you say to himt" "I was perfectly outspoken. I said I had had a quarrel with my husband, who had insisted on my writing to request him to discontinue his attentions. I fully in tended to do so, but when I sat down with ih\i yvu in my hand for the purpose, I was seized with a foolish impulse to—to vent my ill-humour by a dangerous practical joke. I meant no harm, and nothing was further from my mind than to send otf the letter I wrote." " I wonder you thought your husband capable of reading a letter addressed to a third person," said Jack, rather sharply. "I'm perfectly sure that if I had been in his jealous mood, and had seen an unsealed letter addressed by my wife to an admirer lying about, I should have read it," said Mrs Ainslie, with conviction. " Anyhow, your husband did nothing of the kind," remarked Jack, with a shrug. '' No ; I discovered afterwards, to my horror, that he simply sealed up the letter and posted it, thinking it was the letter I had promised to write," said Mrs Ains lie. "Then why on earth didn't you un deceive him when you found out what he had done !" inquired Jack, a little contemp tuously. "Because—because—well, the truth is I felt ashamed of myself. He had trusted me, and I couldn't bring myself to confess my littleness," said Mrs Ainslie, with em barrassment. "Besides, I thought I should have no difficulty in getting the letter back from Mr Carruthers. I knew I should meet him the next evening at the Beresfords.'" '' I suppose he was disagreeably surprised at your explanation '!" said Jack, with a laugh. " Well, I found myself in a very difficult position," answered little Mrs Ainslie. "He declined to believe me, and-—and pretended to think I really felt towards him all I had said in the letter. I had to soeak very plainly—in fact, we quarrelled; and he almost threatened to make use of the letter." " The little cad !" exclaimed Jack, vigor ously. "Do you recollect what you wrote —woe it very compromising?" " I am afraid so," said Mrs Ainslie, rising in great agitation and unlocking her writing-desk. "I hare endeavoured to re call word for word what I said. I think this is correct." Jack Harwood took the letter which his cousin handed to him and read as fol lows :— " My dearest Marmaduke, —My husband has ordered me to vrite and forbid you the house. Since he refuses to trust me, I will no longer endeavour to stifle my feelings, but will avow myself now and ever—Your own Amy." Jack had no occasion to express his dis may and disgust at this wantonly foolish lucubration, for his expression caused his cousin to break into a torrent of excuse 5 and lamentations, which culminated in a Hood of tears. "There, there —it's no use crying," he said, good-naturedly. " What is that other paper you have in your hand ?" "It is the letter I really intended to send; but. of course, it was no use sending it after

the other had gone," returned Mrs Ainslie. '' May I see it ? Yes ; that letter is straight enough," said Jack, after glancing through it. " I really intended to carry out John's wishes," added little Mrs Ainslie, again having recourse to her pocket-handker chief. " Well now, why did you send for me?" inquired Jack in a matter-of-fact tone. " I want your advice and assistance," re turned his cousin,brightening up. "I did not know who else to apply to. and I have always regarded you as a brother. lam dreadfully afraid Mr Carruthers has been bragging about the letter." " Surely not. No man calling himself a gentleman could behave so snobbishly. What makes you think so?" inquired Jack, sternly. " J hope it is not the case, but Mrs Rich ardson hinted to me last night that her husband had heard something unpleasant about me and Mr Carruthers at his club," said Mrs Ainslie, plucking nervously at her dress. "What! at the Blenheim?" said Jack, frowning. "Yes. Mr Carruthers is a member, you know. But, at all events it is desirable to get the letter back ; and you know what my husband is, Jack. I really dare not tell him anything about the letter, or he would fly at Mr Carruthers' throat, and create a scandal," said Mrs Ainslie. "Besides, of course, I would prefer to keep the matter a •ecret from him." " I will try what lean do, Amy, and I need not say I will be careful to avoid a scandal," said Jack Harwood, rising to his feet. " You had better burn the draft of that unhappy letter. It has done enough mischief already. I will keep the other one," he added, putting it in his pocket. —" Oh ! Jack, how can 1 thank you ?" ex claimed his cousin, seizing both his hands in her impulsive fashion. " In the first place I have done nothing at present, and in the next, I am going to give you a parting piece of advice, which will probably diminish the warmth of your feelings towards me," said Jack, grimly. "I hope this scrape you have got into, Amy, will be a lesson to you, and will make you more discreet in your conduct. People have talked about you and Carruthers in a manner which was deuced unpleasant i for me to listen to, I can tell you. I don't wish to stir up muddy water, but you must remember that a married woman cannot behave like a giddy schoolgirl, and I am bound to say I think your husband had every cause to make a row." With this highly moral little lecture, which his cousin listened to with edifying humility, Jack took his departure, feeling > a little ashamed of his harshness, yet con scious of having discharged a duty which was imposed upon him by the ties of near relationship. He and 'his cousin had been brought up together, and he had always looked upon himself as, in a certain sense, her natural protector. He was almost her only relative, and as she had married a

man twenty years her senior, who did not understand her impulsive character, she stood somewhat in need of a discreet coun sellor. Jack had always filled the office conscientiously according to his lights, but he had felt a sort of delicacy about inter fering in her foolish flirtation with Mr Carruthers, and was heartily glad relieved to find that the acquaintance had ter minated. With regard to the task he had under taken, the young man felt considerable doubt how to act for the best. For a sub altern in the Guards, Jack Harwood was more than usually gifted with shrewd common-sense and business-like capacity. But he had no natural aptitude for diplo macy, and he was vaguely conscious that the present emergency required tact and ingenuity rather than his usual blunt, straightforward method of conducting affairs. His impulse was to call upon Mr Marmaduke Carruthers, and insist upon his giving up the letter. But Marmaduke Carruthers was one of those men who in spire more candid natures with wholesome distrust and a somewhat exaggerated notion of their cleverness. He^had a very doubt ful reputation, and though entitled to the courtesy title of "honourable," by virtue of his father being a Peer, he had the smallest pretentiong to that desirable epithet. He was popularly supp^wJ to m.tko n con siderable addition to his income by acting as tout to a fashionable moneylender, though he was fur too nuuta to furnish his detractors witii any just excuse for tneir suspicions. Jack Harwood imagined that Marmaduke Carruthers was not the least likely to part with his cousin's letter simply for the asking. It would have suited Jack's humour to back up his demand by physical force, but by this means he might only create a scandal without attaining his object. Besides, if his cousin's suspicions were correct, and Marmaduke Carruthers had been base enough to boast about the letter, the mischief would not be cured by merely getting it back again. In order to satisfy himself upon the latter ' point, he first turned his steps towards the ■ Blenheim Club, of which he was also a : member. He soon discovered, to his great ; disgust and indignation, that rumours were j afloat which seriously affected his cousin's ■ reputation. Her flirtation with Marmaduke « Carruthers had been a subject of comment ' for some time, and latterly it had been l whispered that the lady was quite willing to elope with her admirer. So far as Jack ; could ascertain, Marmaduke Carruthers : had dropped hints which had caused this ' shameful report to get about, and though he had not apparently gone so far as to show ; the letter, he had made no secret of having received it. Putting two and two together, Jack could not help arriving at ' the conclusion that either from vindictive ness arising from pique, or from some more sordid motive. Marmaduke Carruthers was deliberately seeking to compromise his cousin's good name. Jack was not a hot-tempered man, but it : cost him a great effort to control his rage and indignation, and to reflect calmly over the situation. He smoked two full-flavoured ■ cigars—a very unusual thing for him to do in the middle of the day, and a sure sign of mental perturbation—and after an hour's ' cogitation he rose from his seat with an air of desperation. "it can't be helped. I must dissemble, i as they say on the stage," he muttered to ' himself. "It is devilish unpleasant to have . to shake hands with a man one is longing to kick. But I've undertaken the job, and I must carry it through for Amy's sake, though it isn't in my line at all." So raying, he seized his hat, and started to call upon Marmaduke Carrauthers at his chambers, which were near at hand. Having reluctantly resolved to try his prentice hand at diplomacy, he presented himself with a smiling face and an unruffled demeanour. Marmaduke Carruthers wel comed him with the frank appearance of cordiality which he could always assume at a moment's notice. In this particular in stance, perhaps, he did no great violence to his feelings, for he and Jack were old club acquaintances of many years' standing, and the latter "had the great recommendation in fhe eyes of an impecunious younger son of being the heir to a fine estate. "Have some breakfast?" said the Hon. Marmaduke, when they had exchanged greetings. " No, thanks, I have just had my lunch," replied Jack, with a forced laugh. "I will take a cigarette, if you don't mind." "By all means. Light up !" said the Hon. Marmaduke, resuming his seat at the breakfast table. " I have been up hite the last few nights." " Lost some money, I hear," said Jack, puffing furiously at his cigarette. "Well, I'm about square again now," re turned the Hon. Marmaduke. '• I had luck at the Phienix yesterday, so I shall swear off for a while. What brings you here?" he added, evidently remarking Jack's e:n barrassment. "Avery unpleasantbusiness, Carruthers," answered Jack, unable altogether to repress his temper. "I've heard something about my cousin, Mrs Ainslie, which has rather upset me. I know I have no right to inter fere between you and her ; that is her hus band's business. At the same time, I should be awfully cut up if anything hap pened." '• My dear fellow, you needn't be afraid," said the Hon Marmaduke, reassuringly. " Nothing will happen. I thought matters were going a trifle too far, so I consideied it my duty to—to terminate the acquaint ance." "What!" exclaimed Jack, with an in voluntary start. "Well, you know, I was in an awkward fix. It turned out that the lady took our innocent flirtation au grand scrioux," said the Hon Marmaduke, smiling. " I had not bargained for anything more than a platonic friendship. I had always borne in mind that I was a friend of yours and of her hus band's." " Very honourable of you," said Jack, with a peculiar intonation in his voice which might pass for emotion. "I should never have thought my cousin was capable of a grandi passion. The Hon. Marmaduke glanced at Jack, whose expressive face manifested supreme • contempt, apparently at his cousin's con duct. "Of course, you will understand that I am not boasting, but only defending myself i against your suspicions," said the Hon. : Marmaduke, after a pause. "If you doubt what I say, I can prove my words." " How ?" demanded Jack, quickly. i The Hon. llarmadukehesitatedamoment, 1 and then produced from his pocket a dainty 1 cigarette case, from which he extracted a J letter. " Read that," he said, throwing it on the i table towards Jack, and resuming his meal ' with rather ostentatious carelessness. t Jack opened the letter with the air of a ] man who could hardly believe the evidence i of his eyes andears. After glancing quickly 1 through it, he withdrew to one of the win- 1 dows, and read it very deliberately, while 1 the Hon. Marmaduke continued his break fast with supreme indifference. ' " I say, Carruthers ! Will you give me 1 this ?" said Jack, advancing suddenly with the letter in his hand. < ' ' Idon'tthink you can ask that," returned ( the Hon. Marmaduke rather hastily. "It 1 is the sort of letter which only the ladv'e I

husband could claim, and, of course, he knows nothing about it." r' I should have thought you would have destroyed it," said Jack, looking his com panion straight in the face. " I'm afraid you don't know the world as well as I do, my fri.-nd," responded the Hon. Marmaduke, coolly, as he replaced the letter in his cigarette-case. "I wish Mrs Ainslie no harm, of course, but I must pro tect myself. When a woman imagines her affections have been slighted, she becomes a dangrrous enemy. This letter is my safe guard, and so long as it exists—or rather so long as it remains in my possession—she will not attempt to harm me." " But you say you would give it up to her husband," suggested Jack. "So I would, if he should hear of it. In that case, from what I know of Mr Ainslie, I imagine Madam's wings would be clipped,•' said the Hon. Marmaduke, with a laugh which betrayed his vindictive ness. To this remark Jack made no answer, but hastened to change ithe conversation, ap parently mistrusting his temper. After chatting for a few minutes on indifferent subjects, he rose to leave, and then said abruptly:— "Will you authorise mis to use my dis cretion about telling my cousin's husband " You can please yourself ; but, for good ness' sake, don't imagine I suggest such a roiiro»." "nid the Hon. Marmadiike, with a gleam ol triumph in his eyes. • "Of course not. I cannot sufficiently thank you for this interview," returned Jack, with a faint attempt at heartiness. "Shall you look in at the Blenheim to night, in case I want to see you ?" "As likely as not. At all events, you know my address," said the Hon. Marma duke, laughingly. The same evening Jack Harwood entered the smoking-room at the Blenheim in com pany with Mr Ainslie. Several members were present, including the Hon. Marma duke, who, as usual, was the centre of an admiring circle of youngsters. His doubt ful reputation, which made older men shun him, had a strange attraction for lads with a natural tendency for fastness and swagger. Moreover, it must be admitted that he was an amusing companion, and when it suited him he could play the part of a really good natured friend. The appearance of Mr Ainslie caused some little stir among the youthful coterie, from which it was evident that some of them, at all events, had heard of the scandal about that gentleman's wife. Jack nodded to the Hon. Marma duke, and modestly took a seat in the background; but Sir Ainslie, who looked very pale and determined, stepped into the centre of the circle which was formed in front of the fire, and said, in a tone of voice which was audible in every part of the room :— "Gentlemen, may I beg your attention for one minute? lam about to take a most unusual course, but, as mostot you know, I am one of the oldest members of this club, and you may therefore feel assured that I am acting after careful de liberation." Every one in the room started up in astonishment, and one might have heard a pin drop the moment afterwards. The Hon. Marmaduke raised his eyebrows, and glanced towards Jack, who was severely criticising the end of a cigar which he had just lighted. " I regret very much having to intrude my private affairs upon you," resumed Mr Ainslie, "but my object is to put an end to a painful scandal which has been cir culated in the club regarding my wife. It is rumoured, I believe, that a member of the club, who is now present, has in his possession a letter of a very compromising nature written to him by Mrs Ainslie." All eyes were immediately turned towards the Hon. Marmaduke, who seemed not a little disconcerted, and sought to hide his confusion in a cloud of tobacco-smoke. "Assuming such a letter ever to have been written," continued Mr Ainslie, .**l think all of ua will agree that the recipient was in honour bound to keep the fact a secret. In this unhappy instance the gentleman I refer to has been so wanting in good feeling as to talk freely of the letter and its contents in this club to several persons." " Shame !" cried an old gentleman, ener getically, who probably heard of the affair for the *irst time, whereas the rest of the company looked at one another signifi cantly. " I refrain from characterising such con duct as it deserves," said Mr Ainslie, scorn fully ; "but I call upon the gentleman to produce here, before us all, the letter he has been bragging about." The Hon. Marmaduke shifted uneasily in his chair, and glanced appealingly at Jack, who maintained a stolid expression of coun tenance. Then he said in a very fine-drawn voice:— "Do you really mean what you say, Mr Ainslie ?" "I do," was the firm response. " Very well. But in my turn, gentle man, I must beg you to bear witness that this disagreeable scene is not of my mak ing. I think I am entitled to ask, after what has passed, that the letter be read," he added, with a sudden access of rage. "By all means. Ask any of your friends here to read it aloud," said Mr Ainslie, un hesitatingly. "Veryw'U. Yo-i will regret it, but you will only have yourself to thank," returned the Hon. Marmaduke, who seemed beside himself with anger. Here! Withers— Rowlands—you read it," he added, throw ing the letter across the room with a vicious gesture. The last-named individual unfolded the letter, and, after glancing at it, looked up with an air of surprise at the Hon. Marma duke. "Go on. Head !" said the latter between his clenched teeth. Thus admonished, and further urged by a sign from Mr Ainslie, Mr Rowlands read, slowly and distinctly, as follows :— Dear Mr Carruthers, —I am grieved to learn that our acquaintance has given rise to gossip among ill-natured persons, and, under these circumstances, I am sure you will not feel offended if I ask you to dis continue your visits to my house. You will readily understand that it gives me pain to write to you thus, but for my hus band's sake as well as my own, I feel I have no alternative. With our united kind regards, believe mo, yours very truly, Amy Ainslie. After the reading of this unexpected epistl'; there ensued a silence more eloquent than words. The Hon. Marmaduke seemed utterly taken aback, and hurriedly brought forth his cigarette case again. This in voluntary movement causea a titter in the room, which developed into generallaughter, when the Hon. Marmaduke, having opened and glanced inside it, replaced it in his pocket with an air of bewilderment. Nothing is more galling than ridicule to a man of the Hon. Marmaduke's temperament, and the general hilarity caused him to lose his head entirely. " Its a lie—it's a lie! It's a conspiracy ! That is not the letter I gave you, Rowlands!" he cried, excitedly. .... " What the deuce do you mean by that, Carruthers I" cried Mr Rowlands, who was a hot-tempered individual. "I will swear this is the letter you handed to me, and I have read it vrord for word."

Several voices were raised in indignant verification of this statement, and the Hon. Marmaduke found the feeling of the room so strong against him that lie apparently considered it would be useless to attempt to offer further explanation. Perhaps, too, he found it impossible tocollecthis thoughts, for he was tremblingwith rage and vexation. At all events, he rose from his seat and said:— " This matter shall not stop here. I—l will prove that the letter 1 received was not the one which has been read.' " The subject must, of course, be brought before the Committee," said Mr Ainelie, as the Hon. Marmaduke walked out of the room, with a futile attempt at a dignified bearing. " For my part, gentlemen," he added, addressing an entirely sympathetic audience. '' I propose to tender my resigna tion, if the Committee choose to accept it. My wife's good name being at stake, I could not afford to be delicate about the means of vindicating it. This letter, which has been so much talked about in the Club, has now been produced and read to you, and I think you will agree with me that it effectually disposes of the scandal." It was rather a singular circumstance that, in spite of his threat, the Hon. Mail- maduke made no attempt to bring bis grievance before the Committee. He con^ tented himteit with asserting that Jack Harwood had, at a private interview, sub stituted another letter for the one Mrs Afn°lte K-nil v. rittcn to h' T>"*- T-~k easily disposed of this accusation, which nobody was inclined to believe, by a con temptuous shrug of his shoulders, and popular indignation was so thoroughly roused at the Hon. Marmaduke'a conduct that the most plausible explanation could hardly have served him. The upshot was that he withdrew his name from the Club, thereby anticipating the action of the Com mittee, which, at the instance of Mr Ainslie, investigated thea flair. No questions were asked of that gentleman, and his resigna tion was not accepted.—"Truth."

A Young Arctic Hero.

Bellot, who was of humble origin, rose to position by his own perseverance and in dustry. His enthusiasm in the cause of the Franklin search was kindled by his ardent admiration of the heroic devotedness of Lady Franklin, and lively sympathy with the English people in their Cliri-tian philan thropy in the cause. On his first expedition, in the Prince Albert, his conduct was such that he was received in England with enthusiasm ; the British Government made known to France how well satisfied it waß with the zealous and intelligent co-opera tion of the young officer; Lady Franklin expressed her gratitude to him in the most touching terms ; and the Royal Geographical Society gave him honours. His second ex pedition was in thePhcenix. "Hedeparted with the glee of a high-souled soldier who rushes into the thick of the Sght to win his spurs at the risk of his life," says hia friend and biographer, M. Julien Lemer. No vul gar calculation sullied his purpose ; he re fused the pay which Lady Franklin offered him —he wished to represent his country worthily among the English by his disin terestedness as well as by his courage. Ar rived in the Polar regions, it; was important that certain despatches should be conveyed to Sir Edward Belcher without delay, and Bellot, who knew that their transmission was one of the special and nrjrent objects of the mission of the Phccnix, and that it was necessary theyshould be promptly delivered, himself volunteered to carry them, and with four men, a sledge, and an India-rubber canoe, started off. \Vhen they had been out only a few days, Bellot, with two of hia men, found themselves on a detached mass of ice which was being driven rapidly by a furious gale towards mid-channel. He talked to the men about the danger of the position, when one of them, Johnson, rej minded him that the American Expedition were drawn up and down thi^ channel by tke ice. " I know they were," he replied, " and when tho Lord protects us not a hair of our head shall be touched.'1 He then went out from tho retreat i:i which they had sheltered themselves from the gale to see how the ice was driving, and in about five minutes afterwards Johnson followed him. The wind was blowing with terrific fury. Bellot was not to be seen. His name was shouted, but no answer came. On the opposite side of a crack about rive fathoms wide was his stick. And that was all. There could beno.doubt that when he left the shelter to see how the ice was driving, the wind carried him off his feet, and he slipped into the crack from which ho never rose again.—" Heroes of Britain in t'eace and War."

Best Thoughts of Best Men.

Out of one hunched raen you run agaiast| you will find ninety-five "worrying them selves into low spirits and ir.'l:^\r:'oii about* troubles that will never come. Preserve your conscience always soft and sensitive. If but one sin force its way into that tender part of the soul and dwell easy there, the road is paved for a thousand iniquities.— Watts. A Good Hint.—lf in instructing a child you are vexed with it for want o; adroitness^ try, if you have never tried before, to write with your left hand, and remember that a child is all left hand. Idleness and Poverty.—To be idle and to be poor have always been reproaches ; ai d therefore every man endeavours with t! f utmost care to hide his poverty from othe: , and his idleness from himself. Pet Sorrows.—Some people love to nurae a pet sorrow—it is so interesting 1o mope about the house and imagine yourj self a victim. A touch of real calamity is the only cure for that whimsical >t<inpluint. Health is the bed-plate, on which the whole mental machinery must rest and work. If this be cracked or displaced, all the mechanism that stands on it will to jarred and disturbed, and made ineffec tive.—Richard Storrs. Not long ago an old pioneer who had lived! in Texas in the days of the early colonists was boasting of the good old times. " Why, sir, I was once offered a league of land for a pair of old boots !" "Didn't you take it?" said the party addressed. "No, sir; I didn't." " Poor land, I reckon." "Why, bless your heart, sir, it was the best piece of land outdoors—grass five feet high, a clear stream of water running through it, and an undeveloped silver mine in the cor ner I" " An' why in thunder didn't you: make the trade ?" " Because," said the alii man, in a regretful tone of veice—"be cause I —l didn't have the boots." . ■' . We all want our children to bo happy. Now, the happiest children art; those who have happy mothers. The young- life which grows up in the shadow of ,: discontented, repining, and gloomy mother, i- like a plant unwatered by kindly dews. It is apt to bo dwarfed and stunted. So, even when things are crooked and temptations to ua gentleness and unhappiness come, let the mother, for her sons f and daughters* sake, try to be happy.— Margaret E. Sanyster. Men who see into their neighbours aro very apt to be contemptuous ; but men who_ see through them find something lying behind every human soul which it is not for them to sit in judgment on or attempt to sn^er out of the order of God's manifold universe.— Holmes.

STAK SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, FEBRUARY 9, 1884.

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