Rensselaer Union, Volume 1, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 June 1869 — Selected Miscellany. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Selected Miscellany.

AM OPTICAL DELUSION. “ I TOix-you what’t is, Pen, you’ve just fallen in luck’s way—that’s where it is." I had (spent the evening with him ; we had supped. Penuel Crosslev, my old schoolfellow, the dunderheadedest boy Id the school, without a shilling’s worth of brainier gixpence worth of expectations, had, somehow or other, managed to make a good match a year ago, on the strength of which he had just taken the Manor-house in our jiUle village of Copeafordj and set tied down in dignified ease as a country “aquirh/’.brlth a four-wheeler of hia own; whilst.!, who used lo wiite half h’s exercises for him, was still working hard for a trudging it on foot. I didn’t grudge htm ids prosperity, but I wanted him aUeast-to admit that it came through no effort of. his own,—that it was, in fact, nothing hut 'luck. “ Luskt” cried Croasley, a little contemptuously, I thought,—“ luck! do you say? Look you here, my good fellow; my luflirisvjust'this: it is all my eye, — that’ft what my luck is." “Nonsense, I retorted. “Do you mean to tell me tkaU,you've worked for the money youflpegjl in paying for this place? Do you memi tffsay that your gold is the fruit of yourWaTnh oryourhaudsr ’TTiatit is good money, warm from the sweat of your brow, or that—- —. “ It’s not all my eye,” I continued, “if (fidn’t say ’fwas All your eye; I said it was all mint. Look at me.’’ JtSfISSZStJiSS. JStIHS surrounded himself, a great, tall, hand soma.jdtfJktofnfeHofv,'wjtlf close durly hair, like a Roman glsdiatbr, and a pair of very handsomg eyes, a little constrained perhfriDilil Rui# ekprtasddn, partly, da f Judged from grhool antecedents, because he could not see objects close to him without peculiar speetaclea. •arching wfong’AWmt me, then?” he asked, when I had concluded my scrutiny. No, I didn’t. rife ."was toying with a lead-pencil whiah was in hU hand when he askadAhs question. "Nor/yet/nopr• afrd he deliberately took th#ieara pencil, and topped it against’ l his left eye—right on the eyeball—and tattoo upon it, “Nor y«t

“Pfen'w'Hat <?;> jnm mean?” I cried, ag It’s all my ejre It’s only a glass one, but a capital bit ol 'winilw-glais it ffli-Hae good as most windowjrlasp voq’ll fino to London,—too dark to seiUtrfritgl, but it keeps the draught out.'k And he tunned away for a minute, whislliil his ujfeout, and then, covering up his sightless cavity, brought the eye to me to exgtlnc. 'i&WMM thin one could blow it away with a brthth, and it looked , igßgtwE&G2it inserted his fyq again. • “ is my eyeall mv eye—and nothing else. If you k sHPwwi>Ua«« jUr and my .eye -went out. I left school—bloWllhit of it, as it were; and having recoverod train the accident, and had my eye repggfeOHilh this very artist io piece oi china-ware, I went home to Step mUMtt. .tWdtody medicine with my fa ther. Mv father, although called Dr. Crotsnot a i«pperly ifuali fled doctor of’medicine; he was, strictly I medical man;' but' folks in our town were never very particular about whu|4tgys a professed surgeon wrot* after-fiia name, so long as he could write

“Dt. Crosaley was Medical Inspector to thcjftsl Jiofrdx Health (unkind pefsons called him Inspector of Nuisances), an<MjNil4ttt|fy or ftp privsto practice, jiV was nlsldea should keep the loss of prplound aperet, because he wished gradually to work me into his,own poriltom isn which his foiling health wasrapidlylncapacitating him. Ho had some notinmtHa Bogrd might fancy a man oould, not Hflipect i enough forthe post with * n inspector ftkulsanccl: andLX have found one s&jftfrOugb sJS^rj.'i&'iiscs.iSs which only shortly preceded his dreth <Jne member of the-Board in particular ties of the office. - VHe is only a

young said, addicefing 1 the Chairman ; ‘but he has an eye like a haWt.’ He was tight I had an eye'. Bueh*wUthe energy with which I worked to rttt down nunanc.es, that the mere 'mention of my eye was almost sufifotefitto get them removed. A person ’whose neighbor kept pigs in Mb backyard’ had simply to say to that neighbor: ‘Look oat; the inspector has his eye upon you,’ and there was really no nbed for my interference. Such wa* the beautiful respect and awe tin t which the townsfolk held my eye. .Ant net one of them knew the singular meaning .which attached to being under nay eye,—not a soul of them knew ke> was telling the truth by accident ~ < “ Some time before I was appointed inspector. a wealthy old gentleman, by the name of Tredgold, a widows*, had aqttyed in Stepminater. Some said he was a retired Liverpool Merchant; . others that he was a retired London broker. People hardly knew what he was, or where he had come from, or what-for. He Waanok very comtpifDlcativb on thaee pointsj bat it was agreed that he was rich, smd it Vas indisputable that he had a very pretty only daughter, Laura. He therefore became an object of interest to parents of marriageable young men in Stepminater; whilst Miss Tredgold became a ditto ditto to those young men themselves The Tredgolds were invited out a good deal. They were not at all prond; they appeared fond of society; they accepted those Invitations ; and in tarn their Rosts became tbeir guests. They were very much liked, I really believe for their own sake*, more than on account of Mr. Tred gold's wealth. Mr. Tredgold was excellent company; had seen a great deal of the world, could make himself at home in any society, and, what is more, could make every one else feel so too, if not a little too much so at for he was somewhat eccentric. A* for Laura Tredgold, there could not be two opinions about her: she had the blackest eyes, the prettiest face, gnd the' hast for' tune of any girl in more, she was known to be good-tempCred, tinassuming, and, in a Word, nice. . . , . “Now. although theTredgoidahad'been settled for four years in our town, and notwithstanding one sifter another qf the best and most well to do of our yottng gentlemen, young professional men, and young tradesmen, had laid continual siege to her heart during that thae, Miss Tredgold was still disengaged. ShamferiyHiH suitors to tier father, who*pWfeMed to be flattered by their attentlbns, but told each of them, with never-failing affability ‘he bad other intentions respecting Ms daughter's future.’ This was his continbid Reply to all applications—‘he had 'Other intentions respecting his daughter’s future;' and he never varied a word, bnt delivered it with equal good-humor and courtesy in» every case. ■

“ Stepininster was puzzled ah to what those inttntions,could be. It was demons fisitors from a distance f and ‘Mow ’than th7ouS^v^ta,tt^he^JgoTds’ servants, that Mias Tredgold was actually free still. ffriftiCX jo 9 \ " I became acquainted with the family through my connection with a private musical soefety tor the practice of Vocal topd instrumental chamber mvwic- Theso‘ciety had been founded very reoentiy by Mr. Tredgold, himself ho mean amateur on the double-basa. We met at members’ bouses.alternately, and managed to spend some of the pleasantest evening* I can catt. to mind <■ this way. My own put in the performances - was * chiefly - confined to singing terror. Laura Tredgold played the piano or drgiii with real ttoFvdm feeling, besides whlcK she had s|vel//feßpectabie soprano voice, My .great-interest In the study and practice,-^!-music led Mr. Tredgold to invite me to his .house rather frequently, to try over some of Mendelssohn’s trios with' Laura' and himself, until I became a constant visitor, always wel. ome to their home and table. “ It went on like this fpr a good bit, and the trios frequently catnq down to duets between Miss Tredgold and me, whilst her father would add a doable-bass obligate to her piano accompaniment At last I grew very miserable. I began to fed that I loved Laura Tredgold, aud that my position as a miserable one-eyed inspector of nuisances was an insuperable barrier to telling her so, and much less her affable old father; raspiu nwqynthisdaublejbass in happy Unconsciousness of my feelings. 1 tried to stifle' the* feelings, krid tolook upon our acquaintance simply in the light Sf a musical one. lam afraid the very ef>rt I made to hide them mast have in some way betrayed them to Lavra, for I became implied with arrowing conviction that shHKbew what 1 felt,.end that aer own inclinations were at least not unfoom a faint blush would Overspread her cheek—that She Wrtnld look rottßdand 1 Single out mine from among the other faces tawflklteTW'!* Would stay restfully and satisfied on mine for a moment—her deep, lustrous, dark eyes—before turning with greater unconcern upon the rest. And when she parted from me of an evening, I remember how she would raise those eyes to mine with a gentle expression that made me dizzy to think about as I would run out of the house and reject on my one-eyed ness. Lauca had speaking eyes, as folks say. They were toot bashful eyes; but mild and gentle; and when I looked into their depths, they seemed to flash back already a favorable answer to what I longed to, yet dared not, ask. That the longer I reflected on the social inequality between ay position „aad here, the more resolved I became at

least to try my fate, and hear at wors* my rejection, will be readily understood by the lad who haa read his drat lore-story. It ‘was not so much this—lt was my eye. I dared not tell her, lest, it she rejected me, it should get bruited about Biepminster that the Board had a one-eyed inspector. .That would I>e ruin. It was clear to me I must keep this secret locked up in my own—eyelid. But suppose I should be 'married with my Aim eye, and never tell my wife 1 I should he found out? There would be en end to-all confidence, for I should be a wretched deceiver; and would it not t>e obtaining a, mfe and fortune under falso pretenses? *l*4 I** “ However, Candidly, T Waly expetted rejection of my suit, after the experience of so many more eligible young men than myself. And should I, for this, put my eye in any erne’s power, and loee my/plW* as inspector? No. I would 1 Uk,ktoptoff the secret, and know my fate, flfot, l oould easily tell her afterwards. Spouse my not dwelling on the term* in which 1 laid bare the state of my feelings in Laura Tredgold. It to neither here Bor there to the story. » ,

“‘I have loved you, Mr. Ofoeshey,’ she Mid with emotion, ‘and only you. I have never loved another. Yet I fear I can never be yours. You do not know,— not know,’ she continued, sobbing on my shoulder, ‘ what brought us toHtepuUnster. No, ton don’t know. Yet, if you will ask my father, first, for his consent to your suit, and next to tell you what brought us to Btepminster, if his answer to the first is favorable to your desire, and if his answer to the second is satisfactory to your mind, I will be your wife.’ “ This seemed queer to me. What did I care what brought them to Btepminster ? Absolutely nothing. , “Whilst we had been talking—Laura and I—the old gentleman had been Up stairs, to rummage out some new trios for our next practice. ' . “ ‘ Lovely things I’ said Mr. Tredgold, patting them affectionately. “ 1 Could I have a little conversation with you, Mr. Tredgold, in private?’ j “‘O, nonsense I Not now. I know frMat you’ve, got to say—or I guess. That’s all my eye, sir,’ be said severely; ‘we are going to practice now. O, they ara lovely things!’ and he took an enthusiastic rasp, at his double-basa ‘We will talk, If you like, after supper, when Laura goes to bed. Now, then—one, two, three ’ 1 “ And off we went into chamber music. It was a very constrained affair, afterwh&t I knew, and what Laura knew, and what we both judged,! feel sure, that he seemed : to know was coming. For three blessed hours, wq, kept this up; then supper came, which I thought never would end. At last, Laura kissed her father, and wishing me good-night, resting her full, dark eyes on mine with a new and happier meaning in them, retired. . “‘Well, Mr. Crossley,’ the old gentleman began, when, he heard Laura’s fobtstops. die, away. np Ore stairs-* well, sir, I expect I know what you have to Say. I may as well be candid, and tell yon I am not taken by surprise. I have had a good many young men here, and I have observed their attentions to my daugh tel have naturally resulted in a little conversation with me. I have also watched you, and had no doubt your attentions would reeult similarly jin a few words in prtvate with me. Now, let tis have these few words short and to the

purpose. You are come to t&l me you love MV daughter, Laura?’ S<i“ This watt a most unpromising beginning, certainly. It Is very annoying to get the ground cut from under your feet with this bewildering candor, t “‘lcertainly was about to say, sir, that I love y*QF daughter ; that I loye her truly, and disinterestedly; and that in making this confession I have not an eye to—’ “ ‘ You have not an eye to ?’ echoed Mr. Tredgold, emphasizing the ‘ not ’ in a very unpleasant manner. *‘‘ I mean, sir, I am not in the slightest degree influenced by pecuniary considerattons, knowing, though I do, that Miss Tredgold’s position is very far above mine from a pecuniary point of view. In fact, a reflection on this very inequality has for dong, tune prevented my declaring the state of my feelings to Miss Tredgold herself, notwithstanding I had reason to hope that it would tto reciprocated ou her part.’ “ ‘ Well, htr, I can Only say I hate other intentions respecting my daughter’s future— ’ “Mr. Tredgold eoughed. The very words. It was all over, I thought. | 5 “ ‘‘Than pecuniary ones,’ the old gentleman added, after a slight pause. ‘They are a very one-byod sort of consideration, sir, after alL’ past, t I am pot disposed to think you a man IhEpenoed by considerations of that kliid. llave you mentioned your sentiments to Miss Tredgold? Yes? And* thqy are returned* Yes? In that ease may confide* the matter settled, so far afi my consent If concerted! lam simply anxious for her happiness. No doubt yon. wonder at my ready assent in' your case to a suit which I have refasflgn number of gentlemen in mnch better positions than your own. I have my own reasons. . «»l-money-few -flop daughte£' l ri*B?Br give Aer as‘much as I think it goodfor any young pair to have." “ ‘ What a gem of a father-in-law!’ I thought. “ • The fact is I am a student, sir,’ he went on,—^'a humble one, it is true,—of individual character as delineated in the human eve.” “ I be&n toW Wry particularly ancomfortable.

“‘Atone time I studied phrenology. What is moral character ? says the phrd. nolo gist. Moral character, he replies, is bumps. I tried nosology. What is the index of intelligence? asks the nosoiogist. He knows nothing. They are all wrong together. Where do I look to read the moral and perceptive faculties of the nn man mina ?—whither do I turn to seek for Infallible indications that my con tide nee shall not be misplaced ? To the eye. Sir. The eye is the window of the soul. That is where a man’s character is written. Depend upon it, it is all iu your eye.* - ' “ Jlpally. this was very disagreeable. I was so perplexed I could not tell what to do. It flashed through my mind that I had better go down on my knees, and at once avow myself a wretched one eyed impostor, regardless of all consequences to the inspectorship. But toil is weakness, I thought. Bhould I give up the secret of so many years’ Standing, and lose Laura and the inspectorship at one fell swoop ? No. With a powerful effort, I controlled toy feelings. ‘"I have read/our eyes,* said Mr. Tredgold, ‘and 1 must say they Impress me with a favorable opinion of the candor and frankness of your disposition.’ > “ What * guilty being 1 felt 1 ; “‘A very favorable opinion, sir. And I will say I have confidence in you; Plainly, I likeypU; and I viould rather i have you for haon-to-tojetban any oth*r/y©uug gentleman I know; and I believe you wiQ mak»dwa«ra a good husband/ 2 „ ~,, >, “ Ft* teW Shame, I 'WW hardly Bud words sultohle to express my acknowledg-mente-of his good opinion; but I Mutfetl out something, and the old gtinUetoan shdtfinJfe doMlally by the hand, and daalPii&irlfthidk tee unddiyinquisitive,’ 1 said, ‘but I should like tor uk yotf one question before I go. l aiasseSsj tiemlsi ur*? thoughts. His on a very different subject Year daughter wished toe to ask why you 1 oemMdi Wkvn*m>. 111 -si 4 ' *•i I *

“ Mr. Tredgold looked at me keenly far a moment, then he replied, with some abruptness, ‘Change of air.—Good-night’ “ The manner in which he mid ‘ goodnight ’ did not admit of further conversation. “ Why hid 'Laura insisted on my asking tide question? Surely not to elldt such an unsatisfactory piece of information as thisl I fancied I heard the (fid gentleman chuckle to himself as he shut the street-door on me. “ Could there he any reason worth keeping secret connected with Mr. Tredgold’s coming to Stopminster? Had he done anything wrong ? Did he want to avoid anything, or anybody? It did not look like it, for he had taken no pains to live a quiet, retiring life in the town. • Again, vhy did Laura wish me to know the reason that had brought them here ? It mattered nothing to me, that I could see. I loved Laura Tredgold; that was enough for me “Then I thought about my eye. Could I tell them, after deceiving them hitherto? The worst of the first stop in deception is, it makes the others so easy. I did not see that I could. Besides, surely it was no crime to have a glass eye; It was my misfortune. Why should I go and toll people: * Look here; this is a glass eye,’ when they liked it better for believing it to be real? It would be cruel, —hearties*. Besides, Laura did not love me for my eye. No; I would hot tall her yet, I determined, —I would rather she would find it out. Perhaps I would lead her on gently to the discovery,.and so break the blow, and bo able to say, ‘ La! bleu me—what! didn’t you know if ?’ That would be the preferable course. : j “ When I next saw Laura, she was very eager to know if her father had told me anything kbhttt the reason which brought them to settle in Btepminster. I mentioned his reply, ana it caused her a good deal of apparent uneasinett. “‘ He ought to'have told you that, Pen. I don’t think I ought to be your wife till you know.’ *‘ I protested my utter indifference to the cauße that brought them here, whatever it might be. “ ‘ But, Pen,’ she said, plucking at her dress—“ O dear, you ought to know it. I wish I could tell you. fam sure you will regard me frith an eyd of scorn by and by 'when you find Ijtove kept something from you.’ The tear* wwe coming up in her beautiful cyefc as sMßoohed at me. “ ‘ No, I saVt iMpßng would ever make me change m* opinion of her, as the dearest darling—welt, we will leave -the epis^aWSssssm relief to me that she should wot tell me why they hAthe to ’SteptntnMer. It encouraged and 'excused me, as it were, for my own reserve. -But I would much have preferred, though, she should have said ‘ eyes of sconv instead of an eye. Everybody seemed to talk about an eye to me in a way Which seemed quite personal. “ ‘ Are you sure, Pen, you will forgive me, whatever yon learn about me in the foture?’ “ ‘ Certainly,’ T said. ~ “ Well, In course of time we were married. I still maintained my office as inspector. No one ever had such a wife as mine,—the best tempered and moat lovable creatnre, I really believe, in the wofld. Our congeniality of feeling was something wonderful. Evendown to little matters of the most trivial character in likes and dislikes, tkere was perfect unanimity between ns. It may seem a very absurd instance to give of this unanimity. It is so trifling. But I have always had a great antipathy to flies. T very nearly exposed my secret on one occasion before the Board, owing to flies. It was autumn and a fly had been buzzing about my fate, stinging me for a long time WmwmWm that fly was intently engaged in my glass eye. Zt' Wft a wdhdfr the Board never noticed it; If they had, I should have been found out. At home, I have devoted a great deal of my leisure, in the flyteason, to devising traps and poisonous sweetmeats, for them, and I hayo, fly-mmes in every room. I was-almost afraid Laura would think this suspicious; but 1 no, she never did, Her akin is particularly delicate aud sensitive.. Laura ctid not, like flies; I was glad of that.

“There Was tine thing, I must say, caused me no little . annoyance about Laura. It was only a little thing in itself; and no doubt d ought to have been above feeling hnrt at such a trifle. Still, ever so little a thing when it’s to your eye, for instance, m a, speok of dust, does cause a great dekl of anuoyince. With the con geniality of feeling between us, I certainly did feel hurt that Laura should keep her desk constantly and consistently locked from me. I wanted some ink one day. I knew she had some in her deck, and asked for the keys. The way she hustled about to' opdd’lhat desk herself and-the excuses she made to prevent my going to it, were a masterpiece, of female diplomacy. / It was not that I wanted' to go to her desk so much as. that I didn't like being looked away from it. Itpreyedonmy mind when l considered the mutual confidence that should subsist between man and wife. To be sure, I had not told her about my glass eye—that was the only secret 1 hid from Laura—but then she didn't know that, aud she at least believed I had withheld nothing whatsoever from her, so that there was no excuse for her withholding anything from me. Another thing to do with the desk was this; Laura had received at least two 'letters sioce our ’ marriage, not in female handwriting, which she very artfully cajoled and persuaded me out of wanting to see. I knew tkey were in the desk. Aud there was a certain neat little parcel— a present.’she said, ‘ from a friend.' That went into the desk, too, But why this mystery? A harmless dcoeption on my part was excusable, but I could not bear deception in other people. .< “By and by, from this very little seed, there grew up a sort of constraint tween us, until Laura, observing it, at last threw me her keys, snd calling me a ‘ bad Penny,’ (a playful title of reproach), bade me examine her desk myself, and not be suspicious about nothing. Then I felt ashamed of myself, and wouldn't do It Then Laura insisted on turning it out before toyeyesjand showing me its contents.' T 'would not read the toilers, but I saw a little bog pith a brooch to it, which I muoh doubtod being the same she had received, in the packet alluded to. It was all very well her calling me a 'horrid Bluebeard,’but I knew the handwriting writing. bvirirlaiij - .«*« .•,y “ Oae* day, coming honan tired after a faggiaksnartotot’e work at inspecting, I found toy household in great confusion. > One of my female domestics was crying* ..00 it tooajiv.- .xhuiaxt •I .T .1C .yetwiC tTI

Sail on my entering the house, she began, ‘ O, if you please, sir, missus have fell.’ “‘Fell? fell?’ I asked in amazement. ‘ What do yon mean, girl ?’ “ * Fell, sir; fell down stairs and hurt herself.’ ‘ Where is she ?’ I asked, pusMng past her to seek my wife. “‘I hope you’ll bear up, sir—but missus nave gone. Gone, sir—left the house,’ the servant added, teeing my lpok of incredulity. ‘I was up stairs, cleanin’ of myself for dinner,’ the girl continued, ‘ when I heard somethin’ fall oa the stairs, and I heard missus scream. I went and helped her up, for she had fell and hurt her forehead. She went to her room cryin’ very much, and wouldn’t let ns do nothin’ for her. She put on her things, sir, and went out almost directly afterwards, sayin* she had left a note for yon, air. She was sobbin’ very mnch when she left.’ “ Seriously agitated about my wife, I ran up stairs, and found on Laura’s dressingtable the following note: “ ‘ Dkarkst Pen,—Forgive my leaving you thus. I have suffered much from deceiving yon so long, but never thought it would come to this. Do not follow me; my peaee depends upon it. Yon will soon know all My father will know of my going. . rM ' Laura.’ “Cool, npon my word. Was this the

woman whom I had loved, and cherished, and adored, and kept no secret from ? that is, nothing worth mentioning,—to-go and own to a systematic course of deception ? And her father a base accomplice too t he knew of he? going. Clasping my hand* frantically to my forehead, '‘O woman, woman I look upon the wreck yon have made!’ I exclaimed. She emotion was too powerful, for my glasffce fell out with the force of the blow, and shivered itself to fragments at my feet Oa second thoughts, I was glad she could not look npon the wreck she had made. “Yet, could I believe. Laura falsi?. Then the' demon hf jealousy whispered to 5 me about the letters, and the ‘present from a frtend.’ I hardly dared to think about the agitation she nad invariably betrayed when I had referred to this subject At lehst I would go to her father, Mr. Tredgold,—go and wring the truth from him, deceitful impostor that he was, —and know the worst “ Bnt stay. It was utterly impossible to go as I was—-without my eye. I lead been accustomed to keen a spare eye against emergencies in my desk at the inspector’s office. I had broken that amonth ago, and thonglff h*?written far a pew one to be addressed to the office* it had not yet arrived., Delay was agoniz l n s kJiPt,ffcOapTd. .certainly do. nothing till I had been to London and got my vision repaired.'' 1 .!-'•! . - “ Holding my handkerchief to my face, I set' off immediately to the railway sta* lion, telling all the inquiring friend* who stopped me, that something had blown in my eye, (this was no fib, for gunpowder had,years before!). Arrived there, I eagerly inquired if my wife had been seen to leave. She had, the station-master told me ; she had in faet 1 fa by the previous train, with a ticket for London—apparently much distressed in mind—dressed in traveling coutnme, with a thick black veil on. Evidently for the purpose of avoiding recognition m much as possible, I decided. I was therefore on the very road to overtake her, while, as,my train was express, I should be in London within an bqtu of the time at jflf could arrivei. “ On reachlnnLondonSAfter a few nnsuccessful inquiries at Urn Waterloo terminus respecting a lady answering the de scription 1 gave, I told a cabman to drive me to Mr. Bemotti’s, the optician’s, in Regent Street. k, “ • Will you walk into a private room, and writ, fir, for a few minutes? Mr. Bernotti is engaged just now.’ However, presently, Mr. Bernotti appeared. A pleasant little man, with twinkling eyes, a buoyant disposition, and a cork-leg, which always seemed restive, and not properly broken in—it never went well with the other leg; it was too fast for it; and it appeared to impress the natural leg with a hopeless conviction of inferiority.

“After profuse apologies for keeping me waiting, and several conciliatory flourishes which bis <jsrk-leg seemed to get up independently of him, and entirely on its own account, Mr. Bemotti said: * This is your size, I tee by my books— No. 198 Hazel,’—'taking one from a case of several hundreds—* and a very neat eye it is. Bhall I pnt you np an * off eye ’ for spare use ? Thank you, sir. Am I doing pretty well in eyes? Thank you, yes; nothing to complain of. You would hardly have thought it? No; probably not—few persons would, in tact. You see that the triumph of art is so perfect, one does not really know who has glass eyes and who has not Scorces of people, in every town, wear them who are never sue pec ted of such a thing, the illusion is so perfect Yopra, I am proud to own, is a very successful case. There are ethers no less so. Among the list of persons who have obtained respectable damages from various railway companies for the loee of an eye, and even pensions from government, I could point to st least a few instances in which the eye so damaged has been one of my make. No one has been the wiser. In feet only the other day, 1 waa deceived myself. A French gentleman was introduced to me by a friend as requiring an eye. This is his eye, sir— No. 81-Gray. Well, sir, after carefully matching the art!tidal eye by the real one, I directed hit attention to the extreme lightaesa of oar manufacture, and begged him to hold it np to the light and ebeerve its transparency. If you will believe me, sir, that gentleman’s other eye, which I took for real, was glass. He was blind as a bat. 1 never knew it till he told me. 1 ** With renewed apologies, Mr. Bernotti followed his leg, which flourished off, doyni stairs. Having wished him good< afternoon, I set out to proipeute my search 4fteijny wife. »

“I neea not detail tor'pasticalar steps by which I sought to carry out this purpose; butl may state that I drove to every metropolitan railway,-station, and made most carefUl inquiries. Next day, after fruitless search, l .determined to return to the Waterloo terminus, and endeavor, to elicit something which might gnkie me in fresh investigations. I found wailing lor me there at«fegram: • From Mr. TreJ goML tttepminster, to Penuel Croesley, Ksq , London.—Come down. It Is all 'right. But what Staid | she have meant by * having deceived me,' and‘for long?' I thought, referring to her not*And why should she }teve written me soch a note at all, and aroused such cruel suspicions ? There was a good deal to be explained, at any rate. “I returned to Utepminater by next

train, and hurried off to Mr. Trcdgold’s. Laura received me at the door In an ecatacy of delight; and I was about patting twenty different questions to her at a time, to know the reason of her singular conduct, when old Mr. Tredgold said, ‘Walt a bit. None of that. Just cast your eye this w*y, Pen, my boy; here’s a little bit of a round I want you and Laura to try over with me before I allow a word to be said about this little mystery.—No; I insist,’ he Bald, seeing me about to remonstrate. ‘Pleasure first, buitineas afterwards.’ * “ The cloth was laid for sapper, and we sat round the table, a plate in front of each of us, while Mr. Tredgold handed Laura and me the notes of the round, keeping a copy for himself. “ When I had glanced at my copy, I felt ready to sink through the floor with mortification. I could not believe my eyes—eye, I mean. “‘Now, then,’ cried Mr. Tredgold, smartly. ‘Laura begins—one, and two, and—’ “ Laura bagan blushing, and in a voice very unlike her natural oqe, to sing : AlUgrelto.

“This wss terrible: bnt reflection was oat of the question, for Mr. Tredgold, with his stentorian bass, immediately began singing, to the same air, fry way of reply: ’• ‘ O ye., 1 know the Ulau-eye Han ; Bernotti is hie name; Ho keep, the .hop in Regent Street And goes a little lame. “ Bat the worst was, the terrible proof Mr. Tredgold gave that he really did know the Glass eye Man, for; he had no sooner finished the verse than, with a buret of laughter, he took out his own eye—to my terrible surprise, a glass one—and placed it on the plate before him. I was almost stupefied But in a moment, the old gentleman recovered himself from his chuckles suffl ciently to call out: ‘ Chorus if yon please I* fn Which I very lugubriously jollied.

“ ‘ Now,’ said my eccentric father-in-law, * it’s my tarn.’ And be addressed the inquiry to me to the same tone. “I was forced, very reluctantly, to own, in reply, as he had done, that I certainly did know the individual referred to. “ ‘ Very well, then,’ he remarked, when I had finished, ‘ out with it, can’t you? ’ “Very furtively I obeyed, aha plaoed my eye on the plate before me. My wife gave a scream of laughter, which mnch disconcerted me. There we were, two of us,—Mr, Tredgold and I,—holding our handkerchiefs up to our faces, and contemplating the upturned glance of our ejssfrom our plates. It was most ludicrously horrible. “ * OAo-rus, if yon please.’ “Whereupon we stated harmoniously that there were ‘two of us’ knew the Glare eye Man. “ I thought we bad done. “ ‘ No, no,’ said Mr. Trqdgold; ‘ pass the harmony round.’ “It therefore devolved npon me to put the question to my wife: ‘ Did she know,’ &c.

“Before 1 bad finished, the truth flashed acroes me,—sure enough she did. “ With a little terrified cry, she deposited her eye on the plate, and ran out of the room, leaving us to sing the chorus by ourselves, to wit: “ Then there are three or na know the Qiato-eea Han; Bernotti f» hU nine; Who keep* the shop in Kegeat Street, And goes a little lame.’’ “ In a few minutes, Laura returned with her ' off’-eye inserted in place of the one left in the room. ' You know now why I went to London, Pen. I tell down going up stair| Wltl * my spare eye in my hand,' and the other one felling out, I bsoke both unfortunately at once. The two letters you were so suspicious about were from Bernotti, —so waa the box. You might have known he would not have addressed letters to two persons in one house in the same handwriting, on rack a private matter, you dear old goose you. But you need not be Jealous again, for we will have our eyes down together in fhture—won’t we, dear?’ “‘Yes,’ said Mr. Tredgold; ‘we’U aU have our eyes down together, now the mischief is out, and perhaps they’ll coma cheaper, like that. But nowMlstor Crossley, I’ll have a word with son. i'll tell yon why we came to Stepminster. Soon after Laura left school, she malt With the accident that deprived her of the sight of one eye. When it was replaced with the best imitation we could procure, I began to see that there would be plenty of suitor! yearning to accept her one eye as a drawback that might be balanced by her money, for everybody knew of her misfortune as well as her fortune. I did not care to have Laura wooed under circumstances so disadvantageous to her reel merits, so I removed here, wham st hast there could be no knowledge of her infirmity to prejudice her Allure. I had no intention that Laura should marry without her husband’s knowing tM smret as soon as she was honestly loved for her own sake. HI withheld that secret frpn von.

you had a*giam eye ; and I gsve yon every opportunity to own it, even leading the conversation to the subject You re(heed. I therefore coneidered myaelf ]uetlfled in etiiotly forbidding Laura to tall you her eecret till I gave ber permission. Thought I, you will both find out the truth by and by; but till you do, not a penny of nay money aball you touch, Water Pen, as a penalty for your deception!. Now that you understand one another, there is no further reason for your not giving up the one-eyed inspectorship to some man who is better qualified for the office. The next thing Is for ydu and Laura to take a couple of months' holtday, and travel about the country till you - cast your «im eye* upon aome comfortable little property, where you can make up your minds to settle down In quiet—and you can send me the bill, and then WH see what else can be done for you.’ “ Need I say, we did so—or that, inconsequence, here we are. “ There,” said Pen, when he had finished his story, “ I hope I have convinced' you that my luck is ‘all my eye!’"— Chamber*'Journal.