Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 1, Number 44, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 29 April 1871 — Page 6

[For the Saturday Evening Mail.] IX MEDIA NOCTE.

BY KARL DE VERB,

solemn Night, unto thy dewy armii I lay me back to rent awhile from care: My "life Is run out to its lowest ebb $ And I am tremulous, and fain would be Held for a little moment lest I die. "'Shelter I seek, 0 Nltflit. upon thy breast

I nestle close against thee,—hide my head In the dim foldings of thv starry robes I clinu to tln-c, ami search to find thy hands, And kiss them in this solitary light. And press thorn to my fevered cheek and brow, As I wan wont in olden times to do With her sweet hands who sleeps upon the hill.

I have, O Xight, no mother now but thee! is Wherefore I love thee with a trustlni: heart, a And long to tell thee all the utory through,

The story of my weary struggling lift .— And how I've tolled in these so oudea years Since I sat down and rested at thy knee, The load was heavy, O sweet mother Night, 9 Which Destiny and fateful circunurtanco I Did lay upon me and thou know'st how young $ And feeble In those other days was I,

And how I fainted when the burden lay' i: Heavy upon me—yes thou know'st It all: I care not to repeat it, or to think of the dull chain whose iron links were days

Which I have dragged unto the present hour! a But I bethink me as I gaze upon I Thy silent face that there is yet a tale

That I must tell thee ere I faint and die. S So listen, O dear mother Night, while I, Resting so calmly on thy breast, repeat

A story which no other ear shall hear— No other lxjsom compass or contain: Mother, be faithful till I tell it thee! 1 met her by the silver river-side 1 the soft Hummer time five years ago! And from that hour my life was somehow changed And other thoughts c.nl other dreams crept in And overspend the universe, till en The face of Nature which I loved so well From childhood's morning wan no more the same. Nor deep blue sky, nor evening's clouds, nor flawn )f early day, nor fairy Spring, nor snows That fall in dreary winter time, nor fruit That hangs In red or russet 'mid the loaves (f autumn apple trees, nor frowning cliff, Nor hill, nor silver moon that rK-^o er The plneid river,—'WHS the same to me. No more the same was Poetry or Song: For one was hers, and one was mine, and both Caught the wild echoes of new melody! No more the same were books of languages Wherein dead nations rise and speak again Nor otliT books of vague Philosophy That lends us, like the irjnis frituus, Kvcr a.trny and never towards the truth! No more the same was heaven, or earth, or man Soul of the universe, or living God "C For over all from that day forth was cast The ilnht and mvsterv of human love!

That light rose on me like the break of day,— And all the far horizon of my life That long had lain in shadows and in gloom The dim circumference ot dying thought— Was llushed wilh tender radiance o'er the verge Of night aro'.e the sun of peer.ess love And all the dull cold winter of my soul Hurst out In *oft jjreen leaves, ami opening buds, And fragrant blossoms of sweet poesy! Hut all the blossoms I reserved for her I gathered them in garlands, and then hung, With timid hands, the wreath about her neck And while the half blown buds of white and red Nestled, like doves' heads, close against her breast. I sat me down beside her tender feet, And iookinrr up into the sweet calm face, 1 tnld her all the broken storv through— Hrokeii in speech, but wondrous strong In hope.

Few

words she gave me in response,

thought

I

llut there were smiles upon her lips for me,— And gathering tears in her brown eyes lor me,— And pressure of the trustful hand for me,— And loving counsel of her heart for mo,— And yearnings of her secret soul for me,— Mail* manifest by woman's art, for me,— Until from that sweet summer of the year We came to know each other's life by heart!

Then came the clouds: the White-horse rider came And all of us one Sabbath night went down Into the valley and the shade of Death! The sullen tide rolled close against our feet And one was led Into the spectral boat And borne f: nm slKht Into the silent land! And then another, even I, was torn Rudely away and Hung upon the Themlghtv wave of fatetul destin.vi And then the desolate long wlntei tin )t' separation cast Its snows abroad On hill and valley and the hollow winds Roared In the tree-tops and the sullen world Rolled heavily upon Its ever frozen poles And planets In the cold gray sky looked red And hostile Itico the bale-fires of the North! Until afraid of the malignant snheres, 1 fled from Nature back upon Myself, tho

Ajul shut, the doors between me and world! Then hidden by the shadow of four walls, I crouched before the dylnc coal" of Hop" That smouldered on the hearth-stone, till the spark That lay still unextinguished In the midst Flamed up one feeble moment, and w.ntout In ruyless darkness! On the stone remains Only the cold white ashes of DespairI

O solemn NiRht, upon whos« breast I He, (.Jould'st thou but wipe out all miles That stretch between mo and the Faithful

One,

mouth

that

5

loat.

the wearv

Could'st thou go forth and bring Arc back with llus«, \nd place her here as I Iwheld her last, Where I mluht catch the beating of her heart And hear the sweet voice of tho olden

I eyes,

1 then should gase upon a lovelier face With sweeter dps and calmer brow and Tluui even thine, O solitary Night!

fFruin Chamber's Journal.]

My Lodger's Wife.

Tl.ealarm from Ionian outbreaks is too recent to require any discription here, oven if I were capable of writing one but as a plain widow woman—which I am—I have no pretension to write history. I only know that down at Wey­

«s well ns everywhere else, we

were alu-ja being startled by some IVesh report of what tho Fenians had done, or were going to do, tho latter this was comt.— .. .... places,

but

we had special interest in

them at Weymouth, because most of the men, when convicted, were sent to Portland, nnd we sometimes caught a sight of them on the platform or our stntion, when they were changed to the little branch line.* I suppose that almost everybody who reads these words know*

Portland Island is only two

or three miles from our town, and that there nv nearly two thousand convicts there. Tliey 'have built tho breakwater, and made a regular castlo on tho Island, and so have aonea great deal of work there, if they never lore thoy came

work there, if they never did any le-

Now and then «nc escapes, but hois nearlv always retaken directly, or gets drowned in irving to swim off to some

Mv husband, who was a master

fisherman, saw one drowned. Although ho

was

a convict, my husband tried to

nave him, but he went down like a atone, not twenty yards from his skiff. My husband wa* very much upset by it, for, instead of being a forbidding looking rullian, like Hill Svkes in Oh-

Ttrisi, ho was a mild looking, f-iir haired young fellow, who didirt seem above one or two and twenty. Howover, my poor husband was drowned himself not very long altar this and I, have lived every since on a very little, or browned, us all the Portland warincome he left me, and by letting Air- ders are, and with a certain quick, nished apartments in the season. watchful look of the eye, which they lu the winter, Weymouth Is very ell acquire very aoon. dull, aud I, living alone, would ulmoe The next morning brought a hoavy .have been glad to accommodate any fill of rain, with gusts of wind from the me for nothing, in arder to have com-j sea aud on taking up Mr.

1

oung man, who wanted them at a reduced rate. I had been, with many others, to the station^to aeea batch of Fenians change for Portland, but we were obliged to come back unsatisfied, because the railway companies would not allow any strangers in this was the more annoying, as we all wanted to see a Colonel La Troulle, a Fenian from New Orleans, who had fought desperately when taken, and he had been terribly hurt about tho head, and rendered senseless, before he would surrender. As it happened, we were not able to see him so we all went back as we came*

I had been at home about ten minutes, and was warming my cocoa for my supper, when I heard a knock at the

street

door, and on opening it,

I

saw a very good looking young fellow —very slight, very dark, with a black moustache, and altogether a foreign air. Ho spoke English, however, and said ho had been advised to apply to mo for cheap apartments that he was not very ricn he had come to Weymouth believing he should have an appointment in one of the hotels—ho looked as if he would hare made a capital waiter—but was disappointed for the present. He wished to remain in town, to be in readiness, and so had applied to'rne. I was glad he had done so, and offered him my rooms cheap he agreed to take them, and sent for his boxes from the station at once he had a great deal of luggage, more than most young men possess.

I never had a quieter, gentler lodger in my life than he was no trouble, no noise, never out of an evening by any chance and his manner was always so soft and quiet, that, as I used to tell him, it was more like having a girl in tho house, than a man. He would laugh at this, and say the same thing had often been remarked before. At first, he seemed to make no inquiries after any situation, or to visit his friends at all but after he had been with me about a fortnight, he went out nearly every day, and all day long. I was ^lad to 960 that ho did so, for r0fllly he mewed himself up in his room so constantly, that I began to fear that he would injure his health.

What puzzled me not a little, was the finding that ho spent a great part of his time on the island—not that Portland is really an island, but everybody calls it so. In the winter time, there cannot be a more dreary place in tho world than Portland the storms seem to rage there oftener and fiercer than, they do anywhere else, the roads are bad, tho houses are small and mean, and except for the wild romantic sea view which lies all around you, and the awful Race of Portland, which no vessel can cross, there is nothing to be seen. My niece paid me a visit about this time, and nothing would do but that I must go with her over the island I did so, and,'to my surprise, I saw Mr. Lewis—for such was my lodger's name—leaning against one of the huge blocks of stone which lie about the quarries, and gazing so thoughtfully out to sea, that he never noticed us driving by. Then my niece's husband came to fetch her home, and as he had never been to Weymouth' before, ho, too, must see tho island, and I must go with him and his wife. So a second time I wont, and a second time, to my great surprise, I saw Mr. Lewis. Today, he was talking to a tall man in plain clothes, who had^uqt the look of awarder out of his uniform they wore in tho middle of the road, so Mr. Lewis might have been asking his way but I was confident, from their eager, hurried manner, that he was not. Yet, when he recognized me, ho raised his cap, and the warder—I am sure it was a warder—pointed along a path, as though he was giving some direction, and then we lost sight of them, but I did not forgot theincidont.

A few nights after this, I was surprised, on answering a knock at the door, to find soino ono inquiring for Mr. Lewis, for he had never had a visi tor before. Tho stranger gave the name of Brown, and was at once in vited up stairs. After a visit of about half an hour he left and then my lodger, who had seemod, I fancied, to avoid mo of late, came into my little kitchen, and began in the chatty man tier which had made him so pleasant, to talk about tho gontleman who had just loft.. He said he was connected with one of tho chief hotels, and had called to speak about an appointment. Now, I had lived in Weymouth, maid, wifp, nnd widow for thirty-two years, and knew by sight every gentleman connected with every hotel there, and this was none of them. And if my

judgement was worth anything, this man was awarder from Portland, and, what is more, was tho very warder

my in the house so I was vtry breakfast, I noticed that he looked excused to have a ebauceof letting my cited, if not wild, and I feared he had \t floor rooms to a very respectable{ taken cold. I told him ao, but he

"No. The fact is, Mrs. Gerran, I must now tell you a little secret lam mar­

ried

I

had seen Mr. Lewis speaking with on the island,. I wns quite sure of this, and knew, therefore, that for some purpose my lodger was deceiving me but I reflected that every family has its secrets, so supposed he had reasons for trying to mislead me. ust now a completo change took

place in my lodgor's habits, for whereas no had previously been the most retiring of creatures, keeping himself so totally within doors that scarcely a soul in tho street knew him, ho now seemed to bo never tired of hanging about the frontdoor. Ho cleaned my windows twice as often as I had ever cleaned them ho painted my shutters he painted my flower boxes, and was frequently trimming tho flowers in them while ho actually went two or three times to tho Lion, tho public house at the corner of our street, and drank his ale at tho bar, instead of allowing the postman to bring it for him, as had hitherto been the case. I took the liberty of saying—for I was quite old enough to bo iiis mother—that I hoped this last would not grow into a habit which might lead to harm, when, to my surprise, he burst out crying, and cried so bitterly, that I thought he would go into hysterics. I tried to sooth him, and took his hand in mine—he had a soft and delicate hand, too but he rose,and mastering himself by a great effort, went up to ms room. In the morning no apologised for disturbing mo in his abeurd ways: he had had bad news from home, he said. Of course, I told him not to think any more of sueh a trifle but in my own mind I wondered where he got the letters which had so upset him, as I was quite certain that the postman had not been near my house all day. All this timo. I had heard no more of the situation he expected but soon after, the stranger called again—Mr. Brown, I mean. He called very late one night, and went straight up to Lewis' room, enme down in a very short time, and left without a word as before. As I had admitted him, I had a fair chance of confirming my opinion, ho was a warder. I was sure. He waa a tall, big beardea. big whiskered and moustachea man, who stood very square when he spoke to you, as a soldier does weath-

and! expect my wife from town

*°"Incleed I exclaimed, for had never dreamed of such a thing. "Yes," he went on, "she is coming this evening, and I am a little worried to think what an unpleasant ride sne will have." "She certainlv will, poor thing, said, "but I wfll do my best to make her comfortable, Mr. Lewis.' "I know you will/' he replied. I thank you heartily, Mrs. Gerran. We rely on vou very much."

Ileftfcim his breakfast, and went down stairs, considerably astonished by what I had heard. The weather grew worse during the day, and by night it was little short of a tempest. I often thought of the poor young woman who was coming all the way from London on such a night and what made it worse was, that I could not offer to go and meet her, for, strange to say Mr. Lewis did not know by what train she would come, or whether sho would travel by the Great Western or the South Western line. It blew harder and harder the furiotss .* blasts of wind swept through our little street, and drove the rain before it, so as almost to blind you, if you tried to face it. There was not a gaslight which was not blown out, and I need not say the sky was pitch dark. On such nights, I always sit and think of my poor husband. and of the many others who earn their living on the dreadful sea and I can hear nothing, attend to nothing, but the howling of the storm. So it was no wonder that the postman knocked two or three times when he brought Mr. Lewis' beer, before I heard him nnd when I opened the door, it was almost blown out of my hand by the force of the wind. "It is a terrible night, Robert," I said, for ho was a very civil young man, and had been at the White Lion for years. "It is, indeed, ma'am," ho said "there's a sea on to-night that's a flying over the Chesil Bank like yeast. They've been firing artillery on the island but, except now and then in a lull, you couldn't hear the guns." "Firing!" I said "firing! What is that for, Robert?" "More convicts is off ma'am," was his answer "and I hear there is some fellow of consequence among 'em. Poor chap! He's sure to be caught such a night as this, if he hasn't tumbled over tho face of a cliff already."

I bade him good night, and closed the door, still sadder in my mind than I had previously been. It always made me sorrowful when I heard ot the poor convicts trying so escape. Whatever their faults may have been, liberty is sweet to all of us, and vciy few of them ever succeeded in getting away—hardly any, although many a one had lost his life in trying. I took the beer up to Mr. Lewis' room, and tapping at the door, said, as I generally aid: "Here is your beer, Mr. Lewis and, as usual, the door was opened, and he took it from me. Instead of having his lamp burning, as was his custom, his room was in complete darkness, so that I could hardly see him, to give him the jug, and in tho gloom he looked stouter 'and taller than usual. He did not speak, whereas he generally bad a little joke but now he took the jug in silence. I lingered for a moment but finding that he did not speak, I wat going down stairs, when I thought of nis wife. Mr, Lewis had almost closed the door, when I said how anxious Ilfelt about her getting safely K" storm, when, to my amazenront replied, without opening the door wore than a few inches:

UI

E1m

LBWIS'

Hid:

rison dress, it would be so difficult for to escape notice. I did not see Mr. Lewis all dav, nor his wife: but, just at twilight, I was startled by the latter coming quietly into my little kitchen, and asking me lor the milk. She was a pretty looking young woman, wearing her hair in short curls: it was fair nair, and she was fair too, quiet and shy in her manner. speaking in a voice so low that I cotild scarcely hear her. She explained that her husband had, unfortunately, taken a severe cold, and would be obliged to keep his bed for a day or so. Of course, I offered her any assistance in my power. She thanked me, and went up stairs. When she had gone, I could ao nothing for the life of me, for many minutes, but sit and think of her there was an unaccountable feeling, quite a certainty, it seemed, of having known her before, although when or where I could not say. So strong and strange was this impression, that it was almost terrible to me, and as I said, I could think of nothing else for a longtime. However, I shook the feeling off at last, and went about my work, seeing no more of my lodger or his wife that night,

Robert at the White Lion told me, when he brought the supper beer, that, although it was hushed up as much as possible, yet it certainly was the Fenian who had escaped, and that it was one of the most desperate and ingenious escapes ever heard of. "Not, ma'am," he said, "as I believe in any of your ingenious escapes. I don't believe in a man doing with a rusty nail, or two prongs of a dinner fork, or some such thing, fin four or Ave hours, what it would take a couple of smiths all day to do with a basket of tools. It's the warden, ma'am, and they mske these excuses that's what it is, ma'am." This was the opinion of Robert at the While Lion, and I must

THIIRW-HAITTB SATURDAY EVENING MA1L.APRII 2fl ,871

am much obliged

for your kindness, Mrs. Gerrah, but my wife has been in for this hour past." I never was so astonished in my life. I had made two or three little preparations to comfort her, and felt hurt that I should not havo been informed of her arrival. "Yes," he continued "she came when the wind was roaring so loudly, that you did not hear her knsck. I let her in and as she was tired and wet, I thought the best thing she could do was to lie down at once." Well, perhaps it was but I could not help fancying that, for all that, they might have treated me with a little more consideration. How ever, I could say nothing and so went to bed, and as soon as the storm would allow, to sleep.

The first thing I heard in the morning, from my milkman, was that only one of the convicts had tried to escape and that for the present he was still at large. It was rumored in the town that it was Colonel La Troulle who had got away: but the government people would not say much about it the whole place was astir, he said. All day long, I heard the same kind of tidings repeated and, in fact, I saw enough to convince me that extraordinary exertions were being made to capture the runaway. The White Lion was searched by a party of officers, and so was a house in the same street as my own, where a number of young men lodgers wero taken. I heard, too, that the railways were watched, not only at our station, but that the trains were examined at places twenty or thirty miles out, in case the convict should have got in at some little station. It was supposed, however, that although these precautions were taken, he was still in the island, as, from his wearing the

A Ka^ A#I —1 11

own that I had, on similar occasions, heard tnany people in Weymouth express themselves to the same effect.

Once or twice tho next day I saw Mrs, Lewis, and each time the impression that I had previously met her, grew stronger I fancied, however, that my looking straight at her, to try and remember when it could have been, disturbed her, so I avoided doing so as much as possible, but for the life of me I could not help doing it sometimes. On the following morning, I had to go out for an hour or two, and when I came back, I found my windows cleaned, the mould in the flower boxes turned over, and various little things done, which told me that Lewis had been at work again, as, indeed, I found was the case. He had, unfortunately, been taken very unwell just before I came home, but previously ho had been busy as usual in the front of the house.

Asall attempts to recapture the convict had failed, and so there was no longer, I suppose, a hope of keeping it quiet, that night great bills were stuck up about the town, offering five hundred pounds reward for the apprehension of the Fenian eolonel—for it was he, after all—and one of these bills was stuck up OK an empty house just opposite to my ewn door. I naturally got to talking about this with Mrs. Lewis at least I talked, and she listened, for she said hardly a word and at last, when I struck a light to find something she wanted, I found she was crying. I told her I was afraid she was weak and low, that her long jour ney and her husband's illness had upset her, and asked her to let me make her some port wine negus the last thing that night. She thanked me, but declined and when she went away, the remembrance of her face, with the tears on her cheeks, seemed ten times more familliar than ever. I determined to ask Mr. Lewis, when I saw him, if his wife had ever lived in Weymouth, but it seemed as though I never should see him nirain. However, I did see him that evening.

I had been up stairs for some time, and as I was looking over the contents of an old drawer, I was very quiet, and my lodgers thought I was out but presently I came down, and met Lewis ascending carrying a light. I was in the dark. "Good evening, Mr. Lewis," I said "I hope you are better."

He looked up and said: "Yes, much better, thank you." He passed on, and left me almost petrified. It was not the same man. There was the same dark skin,moustache, hair and whiskers the same clothes but this man, although short, was taller than my lodger, decidedly stouter, and had altogether harder, sterner expression. There was no possible mistake. His voice, too, was wholly different and I staggered rather than walked, into my kitchen, feeling as though I had seen a ghost, I had not strength to procure a light but in a few minutes Mrs. Lewis—sent down, as I found, by her husband came in with one. Seeing me sitting, so pale and scared, in my chair, she saia "Are you ill, Mrs. Gerran My husband fears you are." As if a flash of lightning had suddenly penetrated all the dark places of my mind, I saw, as she spoke, the meaning of all that had been mysterious, and by her face I saw she knew her secret was revealed. She was my lodger she was tho Mr. Lewis I had known. Altered and changed in every respect as she was, knew her now. She locked her hands together, and twisted her fingers with a nervous, lrightened air, and lookeed anxiously at me, "Who—who are you I asked. "Why are you dressed like this Who is the man "O Mrs. Gerran J" she^ried, throwin herself down at my knees, before could move to stay her, "forgive me ddpeiving you, and still bo my friend —hv husband's friend. If you are not kivi and true to us, wo are lost. We haie no home but this—no friend but yo^ It will soon, I trust, be different butit this moment my poor husband is afugitive. an outlaw, a convict, and a pipe is set upon his head."

Aprice upon his head I echoed. "Is lb then she said interrupting me, althouii'she was sobbing as if her heart woull break—"yes, my husband is Colonu La Troulle, the Fenian. Wo areAnericans, and wo are only waiting foi the pursuit to cool, when we shall aoss to Franco, and can then easily regin our home—never more, I trust, leave It." "Risdip, my poor deargirl," I said, lifting hr on to a chair ''and believe me thatno money would tempt me to betray mir husband, for your sake, at any ratetl will be true to you both. I hope forVour sake, too, that he will leave h\ dreadful and desperate schemes. "O Mrsherran," she answered, "do not think lm a bloodthirsty man there never breihed a gentler or kinder being, He las sadly deceived in the busines witch brought him here but pray, comaand see him, that he may know he isbfe under your roof."

I went win her, and found this desperate Fenia, quite a mild, gentlemanly persoL He was full of gratitude to me tid although his close cut hair, now hent without his wig, and his dark fact made him look stern enough, yet l^j

eyes

ine tears over spoke of his him.

swam with genu-

id over again, when he "o and her devotion to

Of courso ev was managed Portland, his as a man, and, took care to fa with the fact thi lodger. One of tl

been rained ork so Robert of the White Lion was ni so far wrong in his guess—and he it wis with whom I had seen the supposeCMr. Lewis talking, and who came to ty house twice. On his second visit hetome to say that all waa arranged, and that her husband would get away s«i alter dark tho next night. It wasfifortunately for the scheme, a very st^my one so La Troulle got past th lowed tho Chesil B: it safe to strike the 1 over the railroad bri$e without being recognised. He rug over his shoulde: convict dress and thlonly really dangerous part of his jouloy was through the streets to reach mihouse butt dreadful atorm cleared away all pas-

himself a little, but not too much, and no one ever suspected the change in my lodgers. In about a fortnight, he sot quietly on board a fruit sloep which was going back to France and both he and his wito wrote to me when they got there, and also when they arrived at New Orleans. I don't know who the warder was, nor what he received for his services: but I heard, shortly after, from Robert of tho IVhitc Lion, that one of them had left Portland to go and take a very handsoma public houso in London so I had my suspicion*. I know that if I wanted money which I am happy to say, thanks to mv poor dear husband, I do not, I should only have to tell Mrs. La Troulle, or so to the great house in Liverpool, of which they gave me the card, and I could have all I wanted.

She would mako mo accept her gold watch and chain and I have worn it, and shall continue to do so, in tnemorv of her.

[For the Saturday Evening Mail.] A It URAL INVITA TIOX.

Tell Ned to turn his ledgers over to some unfagged party, if such party can be found, and push aside, for one week at least, his wares and cares, and come out into the glowing country—the sweetscented country—for in truth tho air is filled with the fragrance of bursting buds, and musical with tho hum of awakening insects, the buza of swarming bees, reveling in the snowy orchards, and the gladsome songs of nest-build-' ing lovers.

Bid him come. I long to see him chasing through the meadows, just now aglow with the"blue-eyed violets," and white petaled anemones or, lolling amid ferns, and mosses, beneath the tasseled maple boughs, while old Stephen spreads his incomparable lunch, under canopies of cream-white dog-wood, and purple red-bud. Breakfasting on perch and sun-fish, caught before sunrise, with his own hook and line galloping at will over "bank, bush and brae," flinging caro and business to the winds, and driving dyspepsia, and all its dark train of attendant spirits, far away indeed I doubt it they would ever again dare haunt him.

Why does he persist in immuring himself in his dismal den endlessly counting over "fives" and "tens" and "twenties," his head throbbing, his brain whirling, his back aching, his stomach gnawing, and every nerve and fibre crying out for rest, while such a fountain bubbling with health and delight, is welling over at his very feet, and gliding away untasted.

He may hush the clamor of his overtaxed energies, for a time, with soothing drugs, and treacherous narcotics, or coax them into uncomplaining activity, by rushing into more bustling commercial enterprises^but rest, they must have—and if ho will not don his sane cap, andpeacably give them a good time, some day they will raise such an insurrection as shall force him to fly for his life.

Obliged to boat his post every day, or have things get outoferear? Bargains lost? Thousand dollar chances lost?" I might write—Fudgo Fid-die-stick but I wont.

Yet tell me, will money purchase quiet sleep and sound digestion—or bargains balance shattered nerves? Tho business men of to-day are much like Knott's buffalo herdsj scampering, heads down, and tails whisking alott over imaginary wheat fields, into the Dtiluth slaughter pens. They rush through life's thoroughfares, panting, thirsty, and weary, as though God had not spread dewy meads, and shaded woodlands. on their right and their left—as though His exhaustless love had not sent brooklet, and river, circling through all tho earth, and filled every nook with resting places, and written repose in every mountain shadow."

Money! money! Business! business and the coaseless clatter drowns the warnings of common sense, and hushes the monitions of an outraged concience while the silvering fingers of care—not time—whitens, and thins the hair anxiety—not age—draws deep lines athwart the brow, and over work not advancing years—stiffens tho limbs, and the man who should have served his country many years, tho husband who should have gone down the shady side of life's hill, with tho mother of his children, fails to roach even its top but sinks down exhausted, his work only half done, his duties only half fulfilled—bankrupt in tho only possession which confers any real value on houses and lands, and silver and gold, a possession which silver and gold, and lands and houses cannot buy —but which can be gathered "without money and without price," wherever mountain breezes blow, and men, are brave enough to rest.

STapoleon,

ono now sees how it hen he was sent to came down, dressed ile lodging with me "arize the neighbors

I had a young man warders had already

station, and foluntil he thought |e. and then got sir largo railway which hid his

sengers, and he ente out having met half His wife was watching dow, and seeing him,s opened the street knowing anything abo removed the stains hands, and neck, with

ur street withdozen people, om her winded down and without my it. Then they her face, ashes which

she had brought with hot and he wore a wig, made to reaem curls. Poor young thin auch beautiful locks me cut ott, to enable her to a man they must hare yard long, I am sure, uo plaoo was they were right

hunting all over London, Liverpool and besides.

and where roni

were

COUNTRYSIDE.

INDOLENCE OF NAPOLEON III. Nobody, perhaps, in possesion of great power was ever studied with more

ain fill attention than the Emperor and certainly nobody ever was described with less of respectful reticence. He was known by thousands as a private individual, he was surrounded as emperor by enemies and spies, he lived in critical, censorious, gossipy Paris, it has been the interest of his successors to publish unpleasant scandals about him yet we doubt if a hundred Englishmen are aware of his grand defect as an administrator, ever think of him as a saunterer, a victim to an excessive, almost abnormal, indolence. The daily, hourly work, hard, disagreeable work, work about details, work compelling him to scold, and censure. and hnrt a hundred men a day, which Frederick the Great delighted in and which would have saved France, was almost impossible to him. He would havo died of the distasteful toil, would, wo believe, scarcely have attempted it even had he known the ruin his favorites were working by their neglect, indolonce being, in natures liko his, a passion as strong as opium eating. This dofect, though perfectly well Known to his intimates, was entirely unknown to the majority of men, yet it may have been the one which ultimately proved fatal.

THE Louisville Ledger has the following important information: "Mr. Colfax wants to commune with nature —to hunt mushroons in the cow-pas-ture—to sit on the doorstep of his rural

her abort! home, with a ten-cent cigar in his she showed mouth, and listen to the swoet, sad Ich she had complaining of the katydids in his apmore lifre pie orchard to raise his own radishes in nearly a and garden sass to havo a baby In the thought cradfo, a cat on the hearth, a dog on the

so safe as WejKoufh, and porch,'and a rooster on tho roof. Why fht, tor the oleers

can't they let him alone? They ought

iver London, af Ireland, to know that he has retired, for he had td good La Troi

^knows! it extensively published in the newsshowed I papers,"*

ALLIGATORS.

The female alligator will not allow the male to approach her nest. He has a gluttonous habit of eating all the eggs, thus necessitating her laying, more, which she does not like to do. So, whenever she catches him in that" neighborhood, sho thrashes him on*" general principals—he either has donef mischief or intends it at any rate, he^, is meddling in domestic matters and deserves snubbing. I am told it is fairly ainusing to see the big bully stick* his tail between his legs and sneak ofl^L the very image of a hen-pecked husband, after onoot these conjugal scold-' ings. He is not by any means model husband and although he takes the thrashing kindly, he revenges himself, by watching until the eggs are really hatched ana then eats upas many of.~l tho causes of the family dispute us he can catch, Young alligators don't like to know, their own fathers.

I heard of but few instances where, tlieso creatures have attacked prowa: men theyaro fond of children, smdjfl show their attachment to tho oif-tnug: of other people as they do to tlioir own.l In one instance, where a man on rs3 back was crossing a ford he was seized by the leg but when tho dog phmgedf in, the alligator left the leg to take tho more delicate morsel. In auothc:' instance, an alligator struck at a i.nleu pulling a cart, and bit out two »i from one of the wheels, leaving a ioo.ii sticking in one as a memento ol' ,th. A visit. He hurried off with great spued, 011 the lookout, I suppose, l'or a dentist. 'Gaitors like dogs aud young darkies. The dog is a spoeial favonlo, The whine otan alligator is easily mistaken for that of a puppy, and may mislead a young and inexperienced dog. A wiso Florida dog will not go boldly down to the water to drink: ho learns by ox-

te

perience after having been caton oncer or twice. If tho shoro is open, ho will draw all the alligators to one place by barking, and then scamper to some other place where the coast is elenv, or he will creep down to a moist spot, tail down, body crouched, eyes skinned and ears up, pushing his paws before him slowly to foel the water, lapping itj. without noise, and then break awaj' again.

The alligator has its uses near every ,, house you find moro or less swamp.and*" in every swamp more or less alligator.« I heard one lady complain very much because some traveller had killed her alligator. He livod near and killod snakes, frogs, young wild-cats and other varments, thus earning his board, and was subsequently protected besidesthis, ho was useful in preventing young children from straying too far fromnome.

The worthy creature is very much maligned, howovcr, ovory theft ot' cattle is laid on his slimv back, and that even when the animal is found in the' woods and tho entrails carefully taken T« out and left behind. His oyes are on the top of his head, and it is curious to see this creaturc swimming along with, only his oyes floating above the sur- ., face. Ho comes ashoro to sleep in the sunshine, and, paying attention to sleep, becomes so aead to all sounds that a steamboat may come alongside then his astonishment, when a bullet wakes him up, and tho hurried way in which he scufilcs into the wator, are sometimes ridiculous. LippincotCs Magazine.

JOKING.

bolieve

Some good people probably that ull joking is^ evil, not because it

wis jvrcwug Ul MV

gives them a sense of tlHTViangfir which they stand of a wound to tht^, own solf-importance, but because it enAf genders a light and" trivial turn of' mind in the joker,* and oither predis-~ poses him against serious subjects, or, worse still,disposes him toseean ephein-if oral and ludicrous sido oven to serious subjects. There is 110 joking, they, say, in the Bible and a man who, keeps all his reserve of force for the subjects treated in tho Hi bio will not often bo in a joking humor. That very much depends, we should say, on tho sort of person you aro speaking of. Uudoub tedly the old Jewish literature had very little humor in it. Few oriental literatures over havo had. There is a certain grim sarcasm and irony in many of the Jewish prophets, but not a trace of humor. The truth is that ^•,:/ humor is the characteristic only of people who habitually keep their nold on conflicting and widely-divergent. moods of feeling at the same time notT of people who are incapable of experiencing more than ono mood of fooling at tlie same time. No doubt the former kind of people—tho one-mood-at-a-timo people—are in some sense likely to be the most oarnost. "Play" of fueling implies, of courso, partial loss of intensity. Opposite inoods of mind cannot touch each other, cannot bo intersecting moods without a certain dissipation of force. When Sydney Smith, while under the very nose of the omnibus-horse which had knocked him down, found his mind glancing off from the thought of eternity to the probable thought of hundreds of aspiring clergymen on hearing of his demise, namely, "there is a vacancy," it is obvious that he was not concentrating his thoughts on the spiritual condition of his own soul or on the prospect before him, as a pattern saint or penitent would have done. You cannot both divide your mind between two moods and concentrate it on one.

AN EXAMPLE FOII TIIK PHARISEE^.— Maggie Mitchell, who recently applied to tnoOld Men's Hoine in Philadelphia to have an old acteradmitted, but whose application was denied on account of room, has arranged to allow him a yearly sum sufficient for his support during the remaining years of his life. This gentleman aided Miss Maggie by bis .. personal advice when she was starting in the profession, and the little kindnesses bestowed Dy him are now returned by her one hundred fold. When the stage is defamed by Pharisaical ministors and weakminded milk-sops of his flock, shall not this act speak trumpettongued in its defence?

A HORSE FOND OF FMJWKKS.—I came very near hngging a horso tho other day on Clark street. IIo was attached to a buggy and standing near the sidewalk. Infront of him was a cart laden with flowers, into which this horse would bury his head, snuffing the odors without Injuring a plant or disturbing a petal. And, as I stopped and said to the horse, "Good morning, my dear fellow I wish you had a human soul in you, no that we could talk to each other," I wondered if he and the flowers did not talk together in ther own sort of way. I would trust that dumb brute where I wouldn't trust a man who la not fond of flowers.—Our Dumb Animal).

A KKW iron nails placed in the vase with flowers will keep the water sweet and the flowers fresh. Try it« and if it falls, you have the oonsolatien that everything else is liable to the same objection.

FIFTEENTH amendment rasoring mat-» inees are held regularity in St. Louis now.