Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 May 1877 — Page 3

TM Rensselaer Union. RENBBELA.EE, - - INDIANA.

HOW BPRINQ WAKSB HSR DABLIN6B: '/ ? Bays Spring " It t* timo that the flowers were Como hither, O Sunbeam*, and ithjne on their hanfe! . Come hither, O Breezes, and btow o'er their bed*, ,?!.*:■ And give them a gentle bnt genuine shake. And hfalh me to awaken my darling*, My lazy, my beAntlful darling*!" With eager deration t&rir nervine* bring. And do with moetnithfal endeavor their beat To halt b» fi> waketa her darling*, Her lazy, her beautiful darling*. But effort* to rouse the fair sleepers are vain. The bright merry Sunbeams shine full on their heads, The 000 l Breeze* shake them and rumple their beds; But wrapped still in unbroken slumbers remain The fay. the beautiful darling*. The winsome, the long-sleeping darling*. Say* Spring, disappointed: “What can I do more St <»Pf%the eye* of the sweet little flowers? Til a*t daughter April a few gentle shower* Upon their bright heads to suddenly pour, And' help me to waken my darlings, My lazy, my beautiful darlings.” So April, entreated, brings down from the skies Swift, pattering rain-drops in showers on their heads; - . -And lo! in a twinkling they rise from their beds, And up to the Sun lift their glorious jyes, No longer the slumbering darlings, But wide-awake, radiant darlings. , ~-Jtmnny Pertivalfin AT. K, Independent. ;TA J „

FRED AND THE HEIRESS.

“ A beauty! an heiressl an eccentric guardian, whose invitation includes any l’riqnd you like to take with yon f or a few days’ shooting. Why, ray dear Fred, you have bound me to you forever by your selection of myself. I feel quite a new man already; for I must confess that when von came I was suffering from an uhusuilly desperate fit of the blues.” “ Consequent, in a remote degree, on last night’s supper,” suggested Fred Clayton, “ and a good deal also on the way you remain cooped up in these dismal quarters.” Fred glanced contemptuously around my dingy Temple chambers as'he spoke —a survey scarcely necessary, considering tpeir intimate resemblance to bis own adjoining rooms. However, I forebore any remark; indeed, the delightful prospect just presented to me absorbed all my attention, and I grasped my frilnd’s hand in a fever of gratitude, i, “Teal me all about it,” I .aitid, “ and how you catne to think of me:” i>“ There -Is nothing to tell,” replied Fred, seating himself on the corner of the table, ana swinging bis legs backward -and fbraritrd 1 daily.' ‘‘This morning I got a letter from an old fellow in the country, reminding me—as if I could remember it—that he and my father had been friends thirty years ago, and asking pie down t 6 his place for a few days’ shooting, with permission to bring a friend if I liked.” '■ “ And his niece that you told me of—the heiressl” said 1. “O. of course, he did not mention her,” said Fredand I merely tell you because, if you choose to put yourself under my guidance, I may be the means, of helping you to a good thing. You know,” he added, more deliberately, ■•” how disinterested my assistance can be, after the little confidences we exchanged last night.” True,” said I, charmed with the recolleotio*r-“ your pretty cousin—the secret engagement—” i— - “Yes,” interrupted Fred; “you know all about it; and we know more about each other than most fellows; so it was natural I should think of you as a companion for my holiday, and I’m right glad you’re inclined for the trip.” So saying, and silencing my renewed protestations of pleasure, Bred left me, appointing a rendezvous at the first train leaving for otir destination, some two or three hours later. Fred Clayton and I had been school- ' fellows In our early days, and many of his vacations were spent fn my father’s house. Of late years, however, he had lived exclusively in London; like me, a young aspirant to the uncertain honors of the bar, bat, unlike me, possessing a large circle of friends and acquaintances, and never without a superabundance of invitations to dinners, balls and concerts, for Fred was said to be very popular, especially In ladies’ sqciety. Except ih the mere fact that we were tween Fred Clayton and Jack Harris. My residence in London only dated bask a few months, and already the great city possessed no charm for me; I pined for the country, for freedom, and for tho active life at home. I might, indeed, with the asristanee of Clayton, or through letters of introduction from members of my own family, have procured fashionable - invitations, and received partial toleration In society; but the prospect of a crush, heated rooms and strange faces was a thought of terror to my timid nature, especially with the underlying chance of ttudftr'K the art of small talk would make such a chance a prospective martyrdom. No; I confessed in my own heart that spclety was not my forte; other talents I certainly had—deeper, more intrinsic merits than bowed for genuine in a ballroom—but they were merits to develop in anatmOsphere of peacefulness and repete; qualities to expand in the quiet of a domestic hearth; and a thrill of Joy shot through me, as, cramming every available article oif clothing into a amall portmanteau, I took lehve oil my comfortless chambers, and allowed my fancy to dwell on h brilliant possibility that Clayton’s .«words had evoked. An heiress, and a h beauty—a country beauty, of course; blashes and simplicity, and rich—how rich! Rich enough to live on a grand estate; to keep a large number or horses; » to dispense princely hospitality! 1 must ask Fred. This, however, was second- : JL would‘n*, of course, acknowledge myself to be mercenary. Lore moat come first; love independent of for- • Hi; li'l I f anticipate any very great

sion. Finally, for success, I may trust somewhat to my own individual attractions (and here a nervous tremor Seized me), and am a little to the co-operation of my friend, for whoee pro-engagement I was more gratified than I liked to acknowledge to myself. “ Fifty thousand pounds,” said Clayton, in answer to my inquiries, when we had secured & coupe to ourselves, and were preparing it for the comfort of all future travelers by lighting our cigars; “fifty thousand, my boy, and the estate, if you consent to take her name.” “Her name? What is her name?” 1 asked. “Elllng—Miss Effing,” he replied. “ And, now, if you think the attempt worth making, I will let you know how the land lies, and give you a sketch of your campaign. The time is short, and of course I cannot insure you a second invitation if all is not concluded during our present trip. Now, then, old fellow, pro or eont" My reply was given with a fervor quite warranted by the occasion. Fred Clayton threw himself back in his Beat, and, after arriving, by much perseverance, at a sufficiently comfortable position, he began his ins'.rhctions, interrupted only by an occasional puff at his cigar, which momentary pause rendered his words all the more Impressive—at least, 1 fancied so. “ Our great difficulty,” said he, “ is the uncle, Mr. Merrick—his name is Merrick. I told you before he was eccentric; but that 1b not the word—exacting describes him better. He is awfully exacting, and possesses immense influence over his niece—an influence* so great that his choice would be hers, even were she not under age, which 1 believe she still is. My dear fellow, all depends upon the Impression yon make in that quarter. I cannot exaggerate the importance of devoting yourself from the very first to Merrick—studying his tastes, sharing his pleasures, and attaching him firmly to your interests. The old fellow is so selfish in insisting on these attentions that I don’t think, were I even free, I could stand enough of bis society to Insure success. But there’s no knowing: the prize is well worth winning, and perfectly attainable through him, and through him alone.”

“And about Miss Effing?” I inquired. “Miss Effing is a charming girl,” said Fred; “ quite young, and ready to believe anything bad of a lover her uncle condemns. Being an heiress and a beauty, she has already received several proposals, but all have been rejected in consequence of the suitors having had the egregious folly to pay more attention to the niece than to the uncle.” So, then, the uncle was the only real difficulty, not a very grave one, I thought. At all events, forewarned is forearmed; and I inwardly vowed to tax my patience to the utmost for so good a stake. At the moment it never occurred to me how remarkably well infornied Clayton appeared on all that concerned our future hosts. I was only too glad to find him so well able to advise me, and perhaps a little relieved that the great result did not involve much courtship, or attendance on a young lady. We were not long in arriving at the station, where a dog-cart was in waiting to receive us; and after a rather cold drive of a couple of miles, we reached our destination. Mr. Merrick’s or Miss Effing’s house—for I did not know to whom it actually belonged—was a large, handsome building, situated in a fine - park, with undulating lawn, and well-planted trees; so much I was able to perceive in the growing darkness. * Our arrival had been heralded by a handsome pointer, that we found. 1 reposing on the terrace; and on alighting we were met by Mr. Merrick, who treated me to a long and most unequivocal stare, and after greetings and introductions, hurried us off to our several apartments, to prepare for dinner. I shall never forget that dressing. I had heard so much of impressions, I believed in them so implicitly, that my anxiety to produce the proper effect almost amounted to frenzy, for I could have strangled Fred Clayton for his coolness and equanimity, when he good-naturedly came into my room to accompany me down through the ordeal of a first appearance in the drawingroom.

Miss Effing was there; and the moment I saw her I understood the failure of all former suitors; I realized the almost superhuman effort that would be necessary voluntarily to resign such companionship for that of the superannuated uncle, and resolved to steel myself by the constant recollection of my predecessors' fates. Graceful, witty and lively to a degree, no wonder the old man dreaded to lose the sunlight of her presence, and the affectionate charm of her manner toward himself. With exemplary fortitude, 1 dashed at my task, and, before the evening was over, found myself, to my great surprise, established as the chosen companion of Mr. Merrick. I listened with admirably got-up interest to long, dreary anecdotes of his past experiences, comprising minute details of the dates, ana even the hours, at which people, long since dead, had been born—the memories of these old people are always prodigioust—and submitted to an account of his present devotion to the collecting of Minerals, which now occupied all his time, excepting during the shooting season, for the old gentleman was very proud of still being able to carry a gun.

Of course, I immediately professed myself an enthusiast on the subject of mineralogy, and was forthwith carried off in triumph to a large cavernous den, to admire what he called his specimens. The examination of these hideous little bits of tin and stone lasted what appeared tome about two hours; and when, ultimately, we returned to the drawingroom, human nature asserted its rights, and unconsciously I 'stole over to the piano, where Miss Effing’s fairy fingers were wandering listlessly over the keys; while Fred Clayton stood beside her, looking through some music. Immediately a warning glance from Fred recalled me to a sense of danger, and, turning in the direction of Mr. Merrick, I perceived an unmistakable scowl upon his face as he watched the party. Hastening to his side, I succeeded partially in removing it by the propositi of a srame of chess, which absorbed all his faculties, and agonized all mine, till the general move was made lor retiring. As I approached Miss Effing to wish her good night, I overheard the old tyrant remark, condescendingly, to Fred ■ “Your friend is an intelligent fellow; we sympathize, and I like him; rather superficial in mineralogy, but we must try and ram edy that by making the most Of our time, as your May will not extend beyond a few days. In fact, the young man quite interests me; I wish yon had his tastes, Frederick.” 8o virtue was rewarded, and I had made a rood hnpreasion. The next morning we sterted early, inten! on tire wholesale slaughter of part-

ridges. On this occasion Fred hurt his hand so severely as to incapacitate him from joining oar future expeditions; in fact, every possible combination of circumstances favorable to my advancement in the good graces of Mr. Merrick seemed to surround me. To say what an effort it required to submit cheerfully to hia perpetual presence would be impossible. He appeared, after a little, to regard my contfnual companionship as a matter of coarse; and so well had I acted my part that the man actually believed I liked his society. Presuming, therefore, on my established popularity, I ventured, casually, on an occasion that appeared favorable, to Introduce the subject of his niece into one of our conversations.

“Ah,” said he, and his face grew hard instan iy, “ Bella requires to be watched closely. Bhe is so honest and nobleminded herself, that sho cannot under-, stand the mercenary designs of the butterflies that flutter about her. But I never lose sight of her; I am always there to ward off artful attentions, -nd keep wouldbe suitors at bay. lam always there, and I shall be always there; but,” he added, changing his tone, which bad been growing excited, “it is well we are free from such intruders at present. I have never seed so little of my niece as during your visit. You have made me forget myself ard her; but, then, it is only once in • lifetime that one may meet so congenial a spirit as yours; and as for Frederick, Bella knows—and he would not dare note." He stopped with a growl. Mr. Merrick was then aware of Clayton’s secret engagement. This accountea for what had already puzzled me—his apparent indifference to the young and fascinating lawyer’s constant tete-a-tete with his niece, but his marked emphasis on the word 7 tote solved the incongruity, and also betrayed what would have been his tactics had he not felt secure; and yet such knowledge argued a more intimate association with Fred’s affairs than I should have expected from a man whose present hospitality was founded on a thirty-year-ago acquaintanceship with his father; but, on reflection, I detected in it an act of generosity on the part of my friend, who had evidently set his mind at ease, and leave him perfectly free to be won over by me. So time wore on, and as the day fixed for oar departure approached I began to feel a trifle qualmish, in spite of the undeniable favor shown me by Mr. Merrick. It was all very well to have secured the uncle—if I bad secured him; but was I certain of securing the niece? I had scarcely exchanged half a aozen words with her. Old Merrick had remorselessly absorbed? every second of my time—the covers all day, mineralogy and chess all the evening, till the very sight of a chessboard generated a nausea that I have never yet got rid of; and the suspicion that the lady had been too much overlooked in our calculations suddenly struck me with an uncomfortable sensation of doubt. I determined to speak to Fred, and seized the first opportunity that evening, when Miss Effing had retired, to propose a cigar on the terrace —a proposition to which Fred readily consented. The case was speedily represented, and Fred’s answer, as usual, concise.

“ You have been admirable,” he asserted, “and deserve, 1 must admit, immense credit for so fully carrying out her Plans; and I feel that 1 cannot congratulate myself or you too heartily. Now perceive the result: the old fellow swears by you, and I have drawn Miss Effing’s attention to the high opinion entertained of you by her uncle. To alter your line of conduct now would be to destroy everything. You would be accused of a ruse, suspected of retentions, and summarily ejected. Consistency, my dear fellow, believe me, unvarying consistency, is your only course—unremitting devotion to the ogre; delicate diffidence toward the niece; and on the morning of our departure, when the near prospect of'losing his congenial spirit, as he calls yon, has unnerved our friend, a solemn interview in the library, a formal proposal, and you return to town an engaged man] Is it not as clear as daylight? (Straightforward and inevitable in every point, Decause so aimpie. You retain your pedestal, remain consistent, and the result comes about quite naturally, through and in consequence of that very consistency.” I looked at Frea with admiration; everything appeared so feasible when detailed by him in a few simple words; his very tones of semi-indifference had a wondrous power of conviction; and, moreover, my own common sense responded to the assertion that a change bf manner would be fatal. I saw my way now straight before me, plain and easy as an ordinary transaction of life, and the horizon grew bright with hope. Warmly thanking my friend for the invaluable benefit of his shrewd sense and convincing advice, I withdrew to my room, my mind filled with more sanguine projects, more tangible hopes, than I had yet indulged in since the beginning of my adventure. "** '» ~'

At length the momentous morning dawned. We had prolonged our few days’ stay to a week, and our host had evidently determined not to renew his invitation, spite of the manifold pleasure my company gave him; so, almost before I could realize it, the eventful day arrived. I passed a sleepless ana disturbed night, several times starting from a confused, dreary rehearsal of the interview I intended demanding in the morning, to fancy I heard whispering voices and confused sounds abont the house, quite impossible at that late hour. Visions floated before me of the already approaching future; the events of the last few days seemed to spread back over half my life, so great was the importance attached to their issue; and, now the culminating point was reached, I felt already the shadow of my victory; for had I not accomplished the task in which every other competitor had failed ? and the question of the young lady’s possible opposition was merely doubtful enough to give excitement to the denouement* Did not all young ladies first oppose, and ultimately yield, with veiy little persuasion, to all parents and guardians ? How much more so, then, in the present ease, where the circumstances were so exceptionally strong in my favor!

I had not been long awake, and was debating in my own mind whether or not to start on an early walk, and by a dose of fresh air to brace np my shattered nerves and stimulate them for the coming scene, when I waa startled from my cogitation by a tap at the door, and almost immediately Mr. Merrick’s valet stood before me. This was a most unprecedented occurrence; hitherto a servant had never entered my room without being summoned, and this man seldom even then. A vague presentment of evil seised me, and I turned uneasily to look at him. One look sufficed; he was ghastly pale, and seemed half insane with alarm. Utterly unable to conjecture the cause, 1 gasped, “What is it?” ** O, sir! don’t yon know?” said he—- “ are you sure you don’t know ? They’s

gone, sir—bolted- Mr. Fred and Miae Bella—the two of them, and the- new mild—off In a poet-chaise three good hoars ago; and who’s to tell the governor I don’t know; I dare not.” That man might bare gone on speaking forever—in fact he did go on; but beyond those first few words, not a syllable was intelligible to me. My first impulse was to bound up and strangle him then and there, but the effort waa a miserable failure, and I fell back powerless, paralysed. No suspicion of a possible mistake; no crumb of comfort in a momentary feeling of incredulity sustained me; the man’s manner bore the Btamp at truth; his terror waa too real, his statement 100 concise, to leave room for a doubt. It was by no process of reasoning, by no mental review, by no recapitulation of events, that the tight broke in on me, but suddenly, in an instant, with the violence of a galvanic shock. I realized how complete I had sold, utilized, taken ini At last, a movement on the part of the servant attracted my attention; he was handing me a letter, and had probably been describing how it came into his possession, but ot this I had not heard a word. My sensations can be neither imagined nor described when writing of my traitorous friend. Had the viper left his sting there? I hesitated to touch the dishonored paper. At that moment a violent ringing of bells announced Mr. Merrick’s levee, aril! throwing the note on the table, the distracted valet rushed from the room, muttering, “ I cannot tell it—l cannot, Thomas must go to him.” Alone with my enemy, I screwed up my courage and broke the seal. The note was short, and ran as follows: “ Dear Jack —Pray accept my best thanks. Bnt for your efficient aid we never ooold have successfully hoodwinked old Argtu. You are an apt pupil, and I sincerely wish you equal success in all your future undertaking*. “ Youth, by all the bonds of gratitude, “ Fred Clayton. “ P. S.—Bella insists on apologizing; so I inclose.”

There was then another epistle. I looked about; it had fallen on the floor. I opened it mechanically, and read: “ Dear Mr. Harris—l hope you will forgive Fred. What he did waa for my happiness. We have long been attached, and secretly engaged, but my uncle was bo obdurate, and so vigilant, that an elopement was our only refuge, which, but for your assistance, could not have been effected. Trusting soon to receive from your own lips pardon for a harmless stratagem, believe me, “ Yours, (by the time you receive this), “Bella ‘Clayton’ Effing.” “Please, sir, Mr. Meijrlck wishes to speak to you.” The door of my room was wide open, and on its threshold stood the old butler, grave and severe of aspect. 1 followed him silently, too full of bitterness for words, but solacing myself with the reflection that in ray host I should find a thorough sympathizer in my overwhelming anger and Indignation. I was ushered into a small sitting-room, where Mr. Merrick, in a flaming red dressing-gown, and absolutely purple with fury, was“pacing up and down tike a wild beast in a cage. Before I could open mv tips, be turned sharply round on me, ana roared out: “ So, sir, do you know that I have sent tor the police ? Do you know fra can be taken up for this conspiracy ? see it all now, the infamous plot, and the part you were brought here to play. Fool that I was!”—“Bat, Mr. Merrick,” I began. “Silence!” he exclaimed. “Do you dare to taunt me ? Have I not forbidden Frederick Clayton this house scores of times ? And, in letting Bella ask him here for a few dayß, could I resist her first request os coming of age ? Could I turn a guest, though uninvited, out of a house that was not my own ? A guest, indeed ! a swindler, a blackguard, probably paid to amuse the uncle, and keep him on tiie scent.” His voice rose higher and’higher as he proceeded; at the end he actually shrieked. But this was unbearable. My own temper had been severely tried, and endure more I could not and would not.

“ Mr. Merrick,” I said, hotly, “ such language, even under the circumstances “ Can’t you leaveoff acting, evennow ?” he burst in. “Confound your gaping look of innocence 1 Do you see this?” he cried, exhibiting a crushed letter which he kept clenched in his hand. “ They are married by this time, and your villainy has so far succeeded; but the triumph shall not last long. I will hunt the scoundrel, and his contemptible accomplice—yes, you—through every law court in Europe; I will publish his infamy in every newspaper, and proclaim it throughout the civilized world! You shall not escape me—you shall not!” The madman shook his fist in my face, and glared at me like a tiger; but staggered as I was by such revelations and accusations, I nevertheless made one more attempt at a protest. “ Your nephew—” I began “My nephew!” he yelled, “do yon think that reptile is my nephew ? No my fine keeper, 1 am no longer your dupe; 1 can see now through your shallow shamming, and I order you to leave my house. Do yon hear, leave it instantly, .oi>-1 will bid my servants kick yon out,” hd cried, pointing to the door as be spoke. I hesitated; Fate seemed too cruel. I felt that the smallest justification or explanation would lessen my misery; but. before a sound could pass my lipe, he had raised his hand, with the savage menace, “ One word more, and I give the order.”

There was nothing for me but to retreat; and retreat I accordingly did from the room, and from the house, leaving instructions with the servants to send my belongings to the railway station—that station from which I had driven only a few days before with such pleasurable emotions and ambitions hopes. Mr. Merrick’s unexpected reading of the case had indeed brought my wrongs to a climax. It was not enough to have been the tool, the dupe, the cat’s-paw of one 1 believed my best friend; I was also to be stigmatized as the confederate, the paid agent of a plot of which I was the principal victim. Truly, I bad reached the summit of human wretchedness. The whole of the scheme which Miss (or Mrs.) Bella so obligingly called a “ harmless stratagem,*’ unfolded itself by degrees to my mind’s eye; and, struggle as I would, I could not banish the thought of how the designing pair must have chn&kled oyer my credulity, and watched with malicious amusement my unremitting devotion to the avuncular conquest. The last drop of bitterness had been poured into my cup; a lifetime of experience had been crowded into the space of a few days, and, swallowing my humiliation os best I could. I returned to London —a wiser, if not a better, man. It it scarcely necessary to add that, long before the return of the bride ant bridegroom, Mr. Merrick had resigned himself to submit peaceably to the inevitable; and nothing more was heard of the terrible vengeance destined to overtake Fred Clayton and his guilty accomplice.

Youths’ Department.

The Bktteriy. “ There, I have caught him at last. What a beauty I aad I never could catch a butterfly before.” The words were uttered in an excited tone, by little Katie Ktrkham, as she graspea in both her bands a lovely butter, fly which she had been chasirg in the garden for nearly half an hour. “ What have you there, Katie?” aaked her father, looking up from hia book Lot me see.” “A butterfly, papa,” replied Katie, running to the garden chair where her father sat. “I am afraid It will fly away if I open my hands.” Bhe cautiously unloosed her grasp, and Mr. Kirkflam took the little creature in his hand.

“No, Katie, it will never fly again. That little glad life which was passed so happily in the sunshine Is at an end forever. You have crushed it to death.!’ “O, papa, I didn’t mean to! I only wanted to catch it. I didn’t think about its being happy.” “ But your not thinking has taken away a life that you never can restore, if you try till your hair is gray. How did it'become a butterfly, Katie?" “Why, God made it, of course; He made everything.” “ Yes; but how did He make it ? What was it before it was a butterfly?” “ I don’t know. Was it anything, papa?” “ I will tell you something about its history. First es all another butterfly laid a tiny egg, several eggs, in fact, but we have only to do with one. Well, from this egg there came in time a wee little grub, and the little grub crawled about and nibbled cabbage-leaves till it grew into a fine large caterpillar.” “ But I want to bear about the butterfly, papa,” interrupted Katie, “not about ugly grubs and caterpillars. I thought you were going to say a baby butterfly came out of the egg.” . “ But.it didn’t, so I couldn’t tell you so. We shall find out how it did come all in good time. Well, our friend the * ugly caterpillar’ had rather a dull time of it, only able to crawl along; it could not fly about, yon know, like tne butterfly. But at last it found a new occupation; ft bejjan to spin for itself a silky case, or tied tself to a twig by a silky cord, and here it lay or swung for some time in what Is called the chrysalis Mate, till, when the bright, warm weather came, the cocoon burst, and out flew a beautiful butterfly.” “ Oh, papa, how wonderful! I had no idea a caterpillar could turn into a butterfly. Do you think it remembered while it was flying about, that it once was a caterpillar, only able to crawl ?” “No, I don’t suppose it did, dear; it could not think, you know, either about the past or future; it only enjoyed the sunshine of its little hour. But now look a the wings. What are they made of?” Katie looked, and gently touched the wing. “How soft and downy it feels! what is it, papa?!’ “ Feathers. We will look at it under my microscope, and thenyou will see that the wings are covered with very small but quite perfect scales. Come into the library, we have just time to inspect it before dinner.” Katie followed her father into the house and watched while he put the butterfly under the microscope, and then eagerly looked through the glass. “ How beauti'ful,” she cried; “ they are real little scales! Papa,” she added, turning round, “ how wonderfully wise and kind God must be to take so much trouble over a little butterfly!” “Ah! my child, I am glad you have found that out. You speak venr differently from the careless way in which you said just now:. ‘ God made it, of course; He made everything.’ The earth is full of His wonders. If you keep your eyes open, you will find His wisdom aad love dismayed in everything that lives. But there s the dinner-bell, so you will have my text without the sermon.” “Well, papa,” said Katie, earnestly, “ I never will kilt or hurt any living thing again, at least, not on purpose; and I shall never see a butterty without thinking about how it was made. ’ ’ —Early Days.

Wheelbarrow-Riding at Shanghai.

You all enjoy riding in a carriage, or a wagon, or on a sled, I know, and America has a great many fine carriages and buggies to ride in. The Chinese also like to ride, and now that foreigners have come here, we often see natives with horses and carriages riding about in Shanghai. But horses ana carriages cost so much that the poor people cannot afiord to own them or hire them. Still they want to ride, and how do you think they manage to get a ride without paying much money f In Shanghai there are a great man Chinamen who buy wheelbarrows, and then go about in the streets just as men with omnibuses aad hacks do at home, and sing out, "eAo-te, eho-u! ” which means “canriager<«‘ riage.” Here is one man saying “ Cartage for the Little East Gate.” another goes to the North Gate, and so on for all parts of Shanghai, outside of the walls, for inside the streets are too narrow for a wheelbarrow.

These wheelbarrows are larger than those used at home, and are arranged with a seat on each side of the large wheel. A rack is built over the wheel to keep the clothes from being rubbed; a cushion is'' E laced on each seat, and a piece of rope sags down like a stirrup to put the foot in for support. Ladies and gentlemen ore to be seen at any time of the day out riding on these wheelbarrows, and they ore much used by laboring men and women, in going to work or returning home. *1 have ridden on them, and think them quite comfortable. 1 said they are cheap. A Chinaman pays about eighteen cash, or one cent and a half, to nde a mile. A foreigner must pay a little more, about two cents. > . Ibe wheelbarrows are also used for wheeling hardens, and it is quite wonderful how heavy a burden one of these wheelbarrow-men con take on hit carriage. —Chiidren't Work for Children.

May Days.

Wg read of the pleasant old custom of choosing a May Queen, and dancing around the May-pole, ont-of-doore, and sometimes we wish lived in a climate where sach tilings can be done. But May-day. as you children know, is often a day of disappointment— fog and rain, and sometimes snow, instead of sunshine and flowers. We suspect that it is not always a pleasant day even in Merry England; for Hood writes a poem about spring, beginning: “ ‘ Coma, gratis spring! ethereal mildness, O Thomson, void of rhyme aa h"Therdt no snch ssemn!"

have better the next time she comes. For she does make us regret her departure sometimes. Tills is the way the regret has bees written: And *o Tory pretty! Hummer is extremely grand; (Bat it is tohtfJe spring That *he owes b*f beauty). In the place of little spring W* hare mummer saty. Sommer, with her lofty aba And her stately paces. Is tbs place of little spring. .With her childish graces/’ But every season is beautiful la its own way. And the last days of May in New England, when the apple-orehards are in bloom, and the forest-trees have fully shaken out their fresh foliage, and the bird-choruses are complete, are usually more delightful than its beginning. May fades into June, as ihe morningstar melts into dawu. Life is exchanged for richer, warmer life, but nothing dies. violet goes back into her roots to sleep the year out, with her baby-seeds reposing in the earth around her—leaving the memory of her fiagrance wandering like a breeze among the flowers of summer. Even if a frost should kill the violet, in the sweetness she has given to the air, she will live on forever. Children dear, when we are missed from our places on earth, may it he aa the violet is missed and remembered among the roses of June! —Lucy Larcom , in Bt. Nicholas for May.

Why Don’t Yon Go to Work?

Mrs- Korcistent was sewing, when there came a knock. Going to the door, she found a boy, who begged for somethingto eat. •' . , “Why don’t you go to work?” asked she, with a hard look on her face. “ I can’t get any work,” be said. “Well, people who woodwork can’t expect to eat,” she testily replied, u and shan’t get a mouthful here. You are big enough to do something for a living, but as vou don’t yon can leave here at once. I shan’t encourage idleness.” And she nhnt the door in bis face and went back to her work, proud ‘Of herffhnness and the great moral lesson she had taught Three days later, another knock disturbed her. She went to the door, and saw a hoy with a small tin,pail in his hand. It was full of grated horseradish, and he wanted her to buy some. “Go away; I don’t want to buy. ~Ljthing,” she snapped. “ It’s only fifteen cents for a pint,” he said. “ I don’t care how much it is ; I won’t have any peddlers around here, anyway. Go away, I tell yon. Take yourself off at once, and don’t let me see you again.” And, with a snort, she slammed the. door to and went back to her work, well satisfied with her firmness in resisting a peddler. As it was the same boy who came begging three days before, and was now on a mission to earn something, it would be interesting to kqow what he thought. However, that doesn’t impair the symmetry of the moral.— Danbury Noses.

Female Physicians in London.

Wk are glad to be able to announce that the Senate of the University of London has, by a decisive majority, resolved to admit women to the higher medical degrees. Since the last time the Senate debated this question considerable pragmas seems to have been made in overcoming prejudices and slaying those social ana other specters which seem always to haunt the minds of many good men when they would legislate for women. At the-' last meeting of the' Senate, some three yean ago, if we remember rightly, the Chancellor gave bis casting vote against a measure which the day before yenterday he advocated, and which was carried by his influence, and that by a majority of eight of the Senators. The Senate has done well in accepting recognized facto. By the act of last year women can be admitted to the study and practice of medicine, and the Senate may' therefore be congratulated on having done its best to give good effect to our legislation. Now that the University of London haa thrown open its medical degrees to the fair sex, we trust that no time will be lost in getting its charter so altered or enlarged as to enable all woman able and ankious to contest to compete with men for such other honors and degrees as the University has it in its power to bestow.—Zaufen Examiner.

Sir Jung Bahadoor's Funeral.

The Amrita Bator Patrika gives an account of Sir Jung Bahadoor’s death. The 25th of February being Hoiee Day (Govind Dwadasee) be went to bathe at Bagonuttee; he entered the river before sunrise for that purpose, in the highest spirits, and after performing his ablutions, sat on the bank to perform poojahSoon after he was noticed to be motionless. On his followers approaching him they found that life was extinct. An express was sent to the cdpHal. and orders arrived to postpone the funeral rites to the first of March. The three principal Ranees, his brother and son arrived, and the Ranees expressed their desire to sacrifice themselves. The brother tried to dissuade them bet he failed, and the funeral pyre was prepared with sandal-wood, resin, and a large quantity of ghee. When the arrangements had been made the ladiee bathed, performed pooiah, and made presents to the Brahmins. The next step was, they took measures for the government of the country and to maintain peace; thee general directions were given to the brother-in-law. Their last act was to release some prisoners. They than entered the funeral pyre, quite unconcerned, muttering prayers. The corpse was then laid on its hack, and the eldest Raaee took its head in her lap, eadthetwo others took the feet. They were then surrounded by odorous edmbustifctes, and the Ranees gazed upon the features of their husband as if forgetful of every other consideration. The We was then applied by his eon, and in a few minutes all was over. <HN>— ■mm • —Vicar: John, you are not getting on very fast with your job. You know you cannot do too much for ■ good. master. John: I knows that jolly well, and—l am’t a-going to tty! Not me.—Jhnag Folk*. a In Arkansas taxes tpe paid on 81,79# dogs, and on 270,864 aheep.