Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 26, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 23 December 1871 — Page 6

1

[From the January Atlantic.]

THE HEART OF NEW ENGLAND. IT IDNVKD C. HTKDMAW. (lloag are the year* of waiting, when lor* era' hearts are bound wordt that hold in life and death, and last the half-world round lliil, long for him who wanders far and strives with all hi* main, 8|U crueler yet for her who bldM at home and hides her pain! •ad lone are the hones sf New England. Twaa In the mellow summer I heard her sweet reply tke bare oot lads and laase* *-berrylag went by The locust dinned amid the trees the fields were Tke while sblpa were onward born

re high with corn lo-MUied cloods against the sky like

And blue are the skies of New England. Mer Hps were like the raspberries her cheek was soft and fair, And Utile breeses stopped to lift the tangle of her hair A light was in her haxel eyes, and she was nothing loth To bear the words her lover spoke, and pledged me there her troth:

Ana true is the word of New England.

iPhan September brought the golden-rod, and maples borned like Are, And bluer inan In August rose the vlll ge

smoKe and higher,

And large and r«i among the htacks the ripened pumpkin* shone,— 4 One hoar, In which to say farewell, was left to us a!ou«*

And sweat are the lanes of New England. *JWeloved each other truly! hard, hard It to part

But my ring wan on her finger, and her hair J" lay next my heart. °TU but a year, my darling," I said ''In one short year, 1 When our Western home Is ready, I shall V, seek my Katie here

And brave Is tli* hope of New Englani.

went to Kaln a home lor her, in the Golden 8tate With bead and hand 1 planned and tolled, and early worked and late 6nt luck was all against me, and sickness on m«* lay. And ere I not my strength again 'twas many a w»*ary day

And long are ttie thoughts NewEngland.

And many a day, and many a month, and 4f-'••• thrice the rolling year. I bravely "trove, and still the goal seemed n»*ver yet more neur.

My Katie'- letters told me that she kept her promt*** true, But u«w, for very hopelessness, my own to her were few

And stern I* the pride of New England.

But still she trusted In me, though Kick with hope deferred Vo mnr- among th* village choir her voice was sweetest heard Wot when the wild northeaster of the fourth long winter blew. Bo thin her trnme with pining, the cold wind pierced her through

And chill are the blast of New England.

At last mv fortune bettered, on the far Pacific snore, And I though to see old Windham and my patli-nt lov«* once more "When a kinsman's letter n-aahed m# "fom« «t OIII,I», or come too late!

Your itl'-'s strength Is falling If you love her do not wait: (tonic bae* to the elms of New England

0. wrung my heart with sorrow) 1 left all else behind. And xtralKbl for dear New England I speed ed like the wind. •The day and night were blended till I reached my boyhood's home, And the old cliff* emed to mock me that

I had not sooner ome: And gray are the rock-« of ?Iew England.

I could not think 'twas Katie, who sat before me there, Beading her Blhle—'twas my gift—and pillowed In her chair. A rlnu. with all my letters, lay on a little

OlH'td,—

•ho could no h-nger wear It, «o frail her poor, white hand! Bu' strong Is the love of New England

Her hair had lost It* tangle and was parted off her brow Bhe u«ed to be a Joyous girl,- bot seemed an angel now,—

.^Heaven darling, mine no longer yet in her J1 haael eyes The same d.ar lovo-light glistened, as she «oothed my bitter cries

And pure Is the faith of New England.

^A month I watched her dying, pale, pale a* any ro«e That drops Its petals one by one and sweetens as it go«s.

My life was darkened when at last her large eye* closed In death, And I heard my own name whispered as she drew her parting hrenth

Htlll, still was the heart of New England.

It was a woful funeral the coming Sabbathday We bore her to the barren hill on which the graveyurU lay, -feAnd when the narrow grave WM filled, and what we might was done, Of all th»* stricken group around I was th* r~ loneliest one

And drear are the hills of New England.

Hi gased upon the stunted pines, the bleas Novemler sky, And knew that buried deep with her my heart henceforth would il-

And waking In the solemn nights my I thoughts still thither go To Ktitle, lying in her grave beneath the wlnt'-rsnow

And cold are the snow* of New England

[Kroin Harper's Monthly for January.]

"The Reverend Sampson's Christmas Gift.

The Reverend 81 in pson Beatty strode •bout hi* study one cold morning In December, and looked threateningly on his little wlfc*. One would have thought, from Ida manner, th it alia tkiiinnittiHl some grievous sin, lor ih'1 jClaapcd her bands togeth-r with a goa rituro of entreaty, and followed him jlatx.nt pleadingly with her eye*.

There had never been a missionary «fbr woman's rlghls up among those bleak hill*, and ike little woman's edit gallon In tbls way hail been sadly neg "looted. She never ventured upon ex p-wtnUtlon with ber hdshand, and when he was vexed, n«»t only gave him '-'the first but tho last wo,d.

Fortunately for Mrs, Beatty, her hit* band waa sa gentle lit spirit as he Jpuiv |.i Mini, niid would snoner have «ut off his tight hand lhan added one O^N1 to the many that IMWIher,sosore ly against bis will.

It »s a bitter humiliation." he said st l-ngth, tbe hot color tinning Into jhis check. "I never thought I should d««acend quilt ao low as this, lu^r—to jiave people going about with a sub•cripuon ptper «n my behalf, «s if I were a very pauper! and I in the full yitfor of tiMiihood, with heilth and Strength and h««al to work. UMJ knows I Uo work eirly and la4« itu no lag gard In the vineyard. oi»t the laborer worthy of bis hire?"

Hot, 5* ttnp* n. sat I ibt llttl® wlA*. "you know It Is quite custom »ry around CiirisUnA- lime «nd lb»'y ut^oan tor tb t«t—I urn sore they d«. But If jroit so badly siMHtt It," sh« wtded, ooiing lb* trown ikwponinK »n kia bm«, "I need only apeak to Sirs B*v •rlv and cats be atu»p#d only" -the tow voice taltered. tw mlniM«r look d*«a upon his wife, ami smoothed brr «ir U'tnlerlv—"*)oly would lie a "li-rriMe dlHmiaiuta^nl to you, dear ti It not «oT Mo wvitKier yoor pHd« is

Oru«»Kl and your apiiii brok'^o, my

fvtr

chit'l Don't thmk for a moinant mj U«Ue be«p*aat«. bearing tbs Vu nt of the batte and wearing «, Qbtirftll fKV to hide wofol Man. 1 lo^w ill llM|MtcM« In the wee «ck (M, l«ar, and tbs skillfol dsruiDf la lhfi»4[^ A* *p-r Into bef

of tbe^lttle ones over thslr Uek of sa-

Jon't

sr this morning. Once for sll, Lacy, think I sui ungrateful or Indifferent enough to be ignorant of even the details of our poverty. I know their full extent. And now leave me to myself, little woman. Let them do as tbey will If it will serve to make you bsppier, I will try to be content."

Mrs. Beatty went quietly from the study and lelt her husband to his rueful ruminations. He bent himself over hl unfinished sermon with a beavv sigh, snd felt in hU heart that bis lire hud bean a failure. Wheu he looked back upon his lost youth he wept in very bitterness over the hopeful, vain-

Ey

lorious dreams that bad vanished one one, and left bim upon this wintry morning almost desolate, lie had in that youthful onset pictured to himself a life of chivalrous strife and glorious victory, and had entered upon bis min Istrv with the burning seal and earneat eelf-aacritice of a Savonarola. But he felt himself, as the years rolled on, a veritable Don Quixote, struggling with windmills. Gigantic and powerful windmills surely, lor tbey represented sll the petty pnseiona ana meannesses of the human heart but tbey were of that calibre that tbey bluntea his weapons and rendered bis strife almost ridiculous.

Were all these years of study, these haughty resolves, and glorious determinations, to be wasted in entreating stupid clod-hoppers to remain awake for one little hour upon Sunday, or in etodeavoring to reconcile Mrs. Jones to her neighbor's bay-window7

Not once did be see a glimmer of light in the faces of his parishioners wben he expounded to them, with all the eloquenoe and force of which he was capable, the epistles of the apostles nor dl«l they show the least enthusiasm when he read to them a sermon over which he himself bad wept with emotion.

Can it be well," murmured the wicked puraon,-"to people paradise with souls like these it seemed »a it a gulf widened between him and his. people day by day, and soon he should not even be able to stretch out bis baud to them.

In the mean time, however, Mrs. Beatty went Hboul the house with a SUIUM of genuiue joy upon her face. Mrs. Beverly had hinted that they would probably raise seventy- tlvs dollars for the Christmas gift, and the Utile womtin's imagination exaggerated this sum of tnon«-y into a lortune, and raveled in the abundance in store for tbem.

Ob, if she ould only bavs the spendIngof the IIIOIIO) heit»t-li—she knew so well what they moat needed But ol course this was out of the question beggars could not be choosers ami Mrs. Beatty went joyfully back to her sumptuous visions—rolls of flannel, pieces of linen, warm colored inerinoew odorous cott'ee, aromatic tea, the whit--xi of sugar irs of jelly: pickles, hams, ana saus.tges Jackets lor Johnny, needle-work for baby, a doll-baby for Nell peril*ps, oh. perhaps a musty old book for Sampson all these and more piu-sed and repasaed through tier brain, and the brown eyes brightened, the lips shaped themselves into a smile, .is cheerily *he rocked her baby to sleep on that cold December morning.

When night on me, and the children were Mound asleep in their little bed, and baby lay in his wooden cradle, the R«*veiend Sampson stole into his wife's room, and took an easy-cbuir by the fire. Such was often his* custom, aun .it these iiinen there was a look of rest and joy In his face that betokened well for the p«wer of that gentle woman over the gaunt, h*rd-featured mm. For hours and hours they talked together, and It was plain to be seen that these hours were the happiest of the poor gentleman's life.

Did she then listen wide awake and attentively to the expounding of the epistles of the apostles? And did thr brown eyes fill with tears and the lips quiver with emotion when the eloquent flints of the sermon reached her ear and herhearif Well, uo. The Reverend Sampson never ventured upon theology with his wife, norever read to her extracts from his favorite authors.

I think, little woman," said the Reverend Sampson, "that you have spent at least three times that seventyfive dollars in your imagination." "Oh no, dear," replied his wife "for Mrs. Beverly can get things so cheap. You can't Imagine bow she beats people down. Then, you know, they always sell things cheiiper to a minister."

The poor wretches are considered worthy object.* of charity," said the minister, bitterly.

Now S-«mpson," said his wife, feeling quite brtveln her own little sineturn, ii is queer to me ihat you folks alw.iys pre «c'ilng charity don't take to It kinder, *nd not bind it down to all sorts of rules and forms. I am sure Iheyalwivs ?»h'iw me respect enough. One would think I were prlnco**."

And so von are, irling, a princess —it pe irl among women." You don't think they'd get a sew-ing-UMchiti*•?" said th»- princess, Irrelevantly. 1 don't give them credit for such a wise generosity," said her husband.

N«». no." suld Mrs. Beatty, istily. "it would be a shaiue to nw illow up all the money with one tiling."

Well, what would be nice, Lucy?" said the parson, with generous encouragement.

Then she commenced enumerating such a qU'tniiiyof delicious probabilities that the RWeronl Simpson's f*ce lighted up with a srade th it deep»nd and grew broader (ill actually *ul lainaled in a laugh—a startling thing trom the lips of the Reverend Samp son.

And we'll get a pony and a cow. and a nice set of fandangos for thptrlor windows, and brnd new silk drew for mile mother," he add.

Ye*, on»*of th s«» *1 iv». ple.iseOod,*" said h* wife, nothing unit-*!. "1 should no wonder .» hit if they gi\« you .« suit of br»»»dcloth t«»o."

The minister's f.iew flu-*bed wrathtally. "I don't think they'd venture upon that lodUnity," he siid, with an implied thro a In hi* vole*.

Mr*. BMity liKiktil upon her hush*.id a thr-« lbir cut .nd n* tt* lirn««d wr»i*tb»nds wuh a wUiful «x»re**ion of «*-niuten me but, »ifn«l ti'S'\ sits ob m^ed the iutl"\ *}»«e«illv.

So It r*ttt about ui a a hw lit* magfe* InB ie»»oe of h« wife, «v -n thl« OhrUtm u» ciulty is |oo"d upon with tvor bv tbe ntlai-a -r, and be oaugbt bitn«Hff on«* tn while enjoying the ittrprt** in stofv lor bia wif* and luile ones He eode4V r*d to give the people credit o* Ibe kln lly monv« that Impelled tb««u to tJted«wd, only! be ooul't n«H kelp wishing it td ken tbe shape of a larger «lary, mo th a could bean his owa troa

Ooe morning, meeting Mrs. Bsverly with tbe obanilMt* Miiwprlpiiou p*p"*r4 ts hsr bawl, am ••wiled family, aa «sdtwnmd ti «fpmr liaontii.

Yn n«t nut into sut HtUs

mcr U.**sdd $fr». v*rt pit/fully,

rtalnly not, dear madaga," said the n\lnister, frigidly. "Or course you'll know all In good time." she said, significantly. "I shall wait cheorfiillv, curiosity being a mainspring of evil," said tbe Reverend Sampson, psssing on with a heightened color. "Gracious goodness 1" murmured Mrs. Beverly "what a disagreeable ramrod be is! He oertalnly never was made to be a minister 1" aud tbe poor lady sighed over the bard fate that compelled her to leave her city home and tbe city pastor. A vision of grace a»d splendor rose before her a majestic form clad In flowing robes, eye* mild and benignant, waving, ambrosial locks, hands more delicate and whiter than her own, a voioe softly modulated —tender, caressing, brotherly.

He never would have passed her in tbe street with a few gruff words, scarcely touching hand, aud averting bis eyes with «n expression almost of dislike. It was a pleasure for him to meet hi* people and talk with them, advise, counsel thein. How sweet, bow easy, bow comfortable it was to get through her religious duties with so thoughtful, so kind, so affectionate a Mentor 1

If it was not for his wife," she said, spitefully, to herself, VI deolare I'd give the whole thing up. I do wish we could ever get away from tbls desert and poor Mrs. Beverly went on her way, sighing bitterly for tbs flesh-pots of

^ut ever as the wintry days passed on tbe minister's wife consoled herself and her little ones tor the wants of the household with .the generous bounty that was to fall upon tbem so soon. Let Johnny eat his bread with molasses now, and be should have lentv of butter by-and-by and it little Nell would bo careful with her piuafores a while longer, she should bavei. new ones witb, a pretty lac« frill about the neck.

The days grew ,darker and colder. Even from iheir littlo store of blankets a few were taken for those who bad none, snd many a meal waj stinted in the parsonage to render a poorer table less bare. The minister labored constantly at bis Cbiistinai sermon, ikin^t it a masterpiece of rhetorical eloquence.

At last tbe great day came, and the little family were up betimes, all eagerness and expectancy. Even the face of tbe Reverend Sampson betrayed a faint glimmer of curiosity, uad be did not betake himself to bis study while breakfast was getting ready. The baby crowed upon his knee, and Johnny clambered by his side, while little Nell solemnly watched tbe browning ol the Christmas muffins. Suddenly a loud knock resounded through the hall, and lor a moment the puis* of the family stood still. Then there was a great rush for the door, but, reaching it, there was nobody ther«. Only a flat, square paper box on the door-sill, with a neatly folded note slipped under tbe cord that bound it.

Mrs. Beatty lifted the box quite easily, and her aeart sank a little when she lound it so light.

I wonder what it can be?" she said, tut she banded tbe note to her husband. Tbe Reverend Sampson read it aloud

KKVEHKND AND DEAR SIR.-Accept this litiIf Cnri-itmas gilt as a token of exteein from your parishioners, and please wear it In th ii honor at the Uhrlntrtas service."

Wear it!" crl tbe minister, with flaming eyes. "What sew insult is this?"

Then he tore open the box, and all :he little brood, peeping »ver, saw the hopes of weeks anq months dwindle down in a square black compass. But tbe voice of tbe minister £|fiened a lit-

"It is, after all, a present for you, Luey. Here is the bmn-new silk gown that I promised you."

Lucy took it up wiih a trembling baud, and let. it suddenly fell. It—it is a minister's robe, Sampson," she said, aud then her voice faltered, lor ber husband strode over aud lilted the shining fabric from tbe box, scaunlng it savagely, while his face whitened to his very lips. Once, twice they op ned, but the words refused to be uttered. Taking tbe robe in bis two strong bands, he rent it from top to bottom then, flinging it upon ibe floor, be went away to bis study.

Poor Lucy ohoked back her tean,*nd gathering up the robe and the box, put tbem well out of sight. The muffins were burned, the coffee .was spoiled, the Christmas breakfast was tuined and away in the study they heard the steps of tbe enraged minister pacing to auu fro. But after tbe tirst great shock the sturdy heart of the minister's wife began to take courage and although many a sigh escaped from her lips, she went about beating more coffee, and iking more muffins, so that in hall an hour the title folks bad quite torgotten tbe black spectre that bad loomed upon tbem in the shape of a minister's robe. Leaving tbem at the table, the Utile woman went softly to the study, and found that her husband was not quite so violent in his displeasure as she had feared. The Reverend Samp-s-'ii was asliam-d of the burst of ra«{e that bad overpowered bim, and felt in bis heart thai il be had been sinned against, he was also sinning. "The fact is, Lucy," he said, turning to the dear face th it was so sweet a rest to his eyes and heart, "I begiu to fear 1 must give up the ministry. I am Unfilled for It—at least here, dear. We do not undcrstaiAl each other, tbe people and I. Let ibem get a block from the city that they can shape and dross to suit tliriiusolveft, and you and I, liule worn in, will go farther Into the wilderne*«, where the souls of men are nearer to God.''

Biit his wife shrank a little from this wlitlerue»B ot which bespoke, and, understanding the people twiter, pleaded for longer stay among them.

But, Lucy, bo« can we ever reeotiell- turn ridiculous matter ot tbe gown lv WWII llsf"

Then Lucy made him pause in bis ok, and seating herself upon bis ke -. she unfolded lo him a plan tn •lie hid bt-n concocting while btfciug more muffins and beating morw coff.-e -l tii'HiiiH ibe pirson sli'»ok bis head and *tid II iy a doa-oi titn«, be ended by going out to breakfast witb a smile upon hia face.

When upon 'hu Christmas morning

ff t|r11 M19*MV UIkv Xm'MI imlll'Mi **ws as• 1

compromising, awkward, stiff, repelling— wss there ever suoh a discouraging man Mrs. Beverly frowned with vexation.

But who wss the dainty little woman that tripped after him, rustling in stiff, heavy silk, dragging up the aisle a rich and shining train? It was an odd dress she wore. Mrs. Beverly pat up her '«yeglsas to examine it more closely. N6t unbecoming, certainlv. The loug,flowing sleeves made her little hands look wonderfully pretty then tbe msterisl itself was of excellent texture, lustrous and beav v. It hung very full from the shoulders, looped up in voluminous folds about her slim little figure, aud widened out in a graceful aweep as she walked. It was made witb a yoke—yes, and a square collar. Why, certainly it must bo—it was the minister's wife!

Aft*r Mrs. Beverly had recovered from the surprise ot the discovery, she could but confess that the little lady did It honor. How quaint and sweet she looked, surely, witb ber brown eyes full ot tender light and her cheeks glowing from tbe cold air, a little quaver of subdued glee about ber dimpled moatb 1

And now was heard the minister's voice, and every eye is bent upon him, every ear listened attentively.

441

will take my text," he said, "trom tbe Gospel according to 8t. Mark: And be called unto bim tbe twelve and begau to send them forth by two and two and gave them power over unclean spirits and commanded them that tbey should take nothing for their journey, save a staff only no scrip, no bread^ no money in their purse: but be shod wtth tfandals and not put on two coats.' "Now, my dear friends," said the Reverend Sampson, "one word sa to

{t

'our generous Christmas gift: you see is expressly forbidden me to wear two coats. I have one,, therefore I give tbe other to my wifq, as it seems best aud bettiting so to do."

Then, altogether'disitogmling tbe sheets filled with rhetorical eloquence at home, be began a fervent And glowing description of the mission given to the apostles of Jesus—of tbeir purity, their self sacrifice, their earnest devotion, and enthusiasm. He spoke of the birtb on that Christmas long ago, of its humility and touching simplicity. There was a power and pathos in bis voice a thrill went through tbe congregation, and with electric sympathy touched the heart of tbe minister filling it with an unspeakable ioy.

A throng of words fell from his lips, simple, soul-felt, as from man to man and heart to heart. Not an eye closed, not an ear failed bim. Tears came into his eyes,* and sprang unbiddeu into tboso of his listeners. A mysterious power seemed to reign in the little temple. Tbe fat old squire saw a tall marble spire looming up trom tbe cburch-yard,and for the first time tn years he thoughtof his dead wife. Even Mrs. Beverly's thin lips relapsed from their usual grimace, and an unwonted emotion showed thiough her artificial complexion. For nearly an hour tbe little throng of people remained rapt snd spell-bound then the book closed, the minister paused there WHS a murmur and stir in the congregation. Up blustered tbe squire to the pulpit, ana shook bands with the minister. "You robbed ine of my morning nnp," he said, a kind of sliake In his wheesy voice, and something that looklike moisture In bis wicked old eyes. When he put out his pudgy hand to the minister's little wife be left a slip of paper in ber trembling fingers. "It 's for yourself and the bolrns," be whispered, hoarsely "and if you want spend it in town, there is a seat for you in the family concb."

Then he waddled away, leaving Lucy overwhelmed with joy, peeping furtively at a hundred-dollar bill firmly clutcbed In her little fingers.

The Reverend Sampson was surrounded bv his people, each one vying with the other in expressing in their simple way the affection and respect that his Christmas sermon had inspired.

Lucy very wisely put the bill carefully by, determining not to disturb her husband's sensitive spirit with this sordid gratification. But, to save ber life, as she walked home from church, reaebing up ber hand to the stalwart arm of ber husband, she could not help going back again to the old joyful enumeration,and hugging to herself the precious treasure, till she could show it and explain it with delight to the dear little brood waiting at home for ber. "We won't go to the wilderness, will we, Sampson?" she said. '•The fact is. I never got near to them before," replied ber husband, bis voice still trembling with emotion. "Then yon are not sorry about the robe, after all, are vou said Lucy. "If it was the agent that brought us together, I am more than glad," said her husband.

Not many years sfter the little woman had her* pony and her cow. and her fandangies for the parlor windows, •md the Reverend Sampson rejoiced in the possession of many ponderous musty books and a broalcloth suit but ne one relic, and helr-lootn of the rami lvls a minister's robe that cost seventyfive dollars. Lucy never wore it again.

THB Roanoke (Va.) Valley, In relat ing some Incidents of its (bounty Pair, says of the imposter* who are always present on such occasions

But tt was really wonderful to see the devices they had to deceive tbe unwary. One man had wtnt be called warblers. He said, "Lidles and gentlemen, this is a very dull day, and no doubt you all feel rather low-splrlted, but we will get np something to enl ven you somewhat. I have here a little instrument which I call a warbler. I pu' ll In tny inoulh so, you perceive, and then can imitate any kind of bird, from owl to an elephant. Now I will imitate a mocking bird: Ps'-et, pgcet, p*e» tweertle, iweedle, quivo, qulvo, twvi twylt, twyit, purtteitettettle. Ac.' Now "I will'imit ate si-k chicken queek. queek. Now I will imitate an elephant, thxwert, vrogen, fr*'gen, Ac. Here they are, ladies and gentlemen a whofe menagerie for twenty five cents. Thank y«»u, sir another tn «n made hippy for lif«*. Who'll be th* next customer? Only

th- congregation had asm-uibled at ibe t«r nty-five ornta for moc*ing-lbird a

Tn re w*«tbe tail, gaunt form of »hit ver»*u Simpson iu bis old ihrt*adbar- ooat, the white seaotS hi# Wellworn trow sera sduiug in tbe Winiry •aallgfct. tie his wrong arms (it ilnl/ iwa Irani MM4 In abort tigh sleeve*. *nd at every sUp tbe uu inly teowaers biMbmg up ai»! down, showtn/ th wbl'A RKNM STOCKING*. TW same as ever lana, angular, un-

Eorned

oil parrot, snd elephant, and a great owl. Here they «re, genile-

eburch, then* wss an dr ol oonsdousness among them that niwle it almost like a social gathering. oiy a pew was filh-dthu was ordinarily empty an 1 even WM trout sett ot the *qtiire tvMit under his fortuidabl'' w-tgbi. Mrs. v«rly, it* velvet* and furs, looked .town upon hsr gild**! t«»k with «n itiooipt at serenity but there w«i «u ptbw*y„ evident rnstl«*ssiteM about her wue«i A auiil-, arejomp-oled by a kind th rv «aaastir 4 ih*d«»r.aud a wbui .rd, has been known to reclaim a p«r that iu« |«r»oti wai co oing. Ai nmr outcast, and change t.he whole curias she hike! bark witb tb» rem. nmi ot a human life. Of all life's bleaa-

m«*n, call

for

wh «t you want, and hand

up your money."

f«

WHAT suti«btn»» i* to flowers, smiles *r»* to humam y. They *n» but trifles, to be sure, but, scattered along life's tbway, tbe *ood tbey do is inoooceiv

Ids.

ing* none ar* cheaper. ilea.

or more easily

lisposed. than smile*. Then let us not b-1 «o chary of tbem, but scatter ibem frwsly sa ws f: tor die *a too abort to t*e frowned awav

A BAcagfcos inor, who hai a pretty Uum «rr|««d •iMr l*U ly wrot to another similarly circumstanced,*'Pleasoexchange."

ALEXIS ON AMERICAN WORKWOMEN. Tbe Hartfbrd Courant says: "During the Grand Duke Alexis* walks througb tbe Bridgeport cartridge factory the other day, be pointed to several workiugmen and Inquired of Gov. Jewell, "Are theee men what you call the ooinmon people?" The Governor replied that tbey were a fair specimen of the worklug classes In this country. "But do you mean to say that these get into official position?"'further asked tbe imperial scion. "Perhaps not any of theee men.", rejoined Gov. Jewall "but men of their class do they are educated men, most of them—that is, they can all probably read and write and most of thein take and read the newspapers." "Do you know of any cases where such men have actuslly been elected to office?" again queried tbe curious Alexis. "O, certainly," the Governor said, "I, myself worked in tbe shop as a tanner ill I waa twenty years of age and

the

an­

nouncement seemed to puule the Duke a good deal. H* re was the Governor of a State, aa well dressed aud as well sppearing as himself, who had actually worked in a shop, and this man was welcoming hinrin behalf of a hundred thousaud voters it was more of an eulgtna than the boy had ciphered on previously but aa be goes through the country be will ascertain, upon inquiring, that very many of the public men here have come direct from the work ahop. In Massachusetts, where he is now visiting, Gov. Claflin was a shoemaker Senator Wilson waa a cobbler also, and Gen. Biuks was a iuachiuist.

QUEEN CAROLINES RODY AT HARWICH Tbe scene wns such, as I never can forget or reflect upon without emotion. The multitudes assembled from all parts of the country were immense, and tbe pier crowded witb tbem, as th* sea was covered witb boats of every sige snd kind, and the colors of tbe vessels weie ha If-mast bigh as on days of mourning. The oontnsis ot a bright sun with the gloom on every face was striking, and the guns firiug at intervals made a solemn impression. One of the sights, however, which most struck me, is a Captain in the Royal Navy, who sat on the pier, and could not be persuaded to leave it he WHS deeply affected, and wept exceedingly. Having been in ber service, and employed then and ever since in dispensing her charities, ho could not tear himself away but being refused bis earnest request of accompanying her remains to Brunswick, he w.ia resolved to witness the embarkation. The crimson coffin slowly descended from the pier, and the barge that conveyed it bore tbe flag of England, floating over "Caroline ot Brunswick, the murdered Queen of England," the inscription directed by herself, and the justic of which was felt by thousands who had indimiantly seen the indecent haste of the funeral procession from London,mid who felt their share In a kind of national remorse, aa well as commiseration, for all that had passed.—Memoirs ot the Life and Times of Lord Broug ham,

A ZKALOUS CHRISTIAN.—A roughlooking specimen of humanity was recently promenading up Chat bam si rect, New'York, when be caine plumply upon a Jew, a specimen of Ills race aliout whom there is no mistake.

Without a word of warning, the rough knocked him sprawling into the utter. Picking himself up, and tak ng hi~ bleeding nose lieiween bb» finger and thumb, he demanded an explanation. "Shut up I'll bust yer agin?" shouted the aggressor, approaching him again.

I have never done nothing mlt you. and what for you mash me iu the uose?" asked Abraham.

Yes, yer hev! yer Jews crucified Christ, and I hev a mind to go for you again."

But, mine Gott, dat vash eighteen hundred years ago," said the J«-w. Well, I don't care if it was only heard of It last night," replied the unwaahed, and he went for him again.

SAMMY AND THR CAPTAIN.—An illustration of tbe limited ideas of children, very closely like those of the savages who have repeatedly taken tho fiisi white men they saw for superhuman beings—Is recorded in respect of a worthy farmer, who was

Captain, or oolonel, or knight In arms, In one of the New England 8tates. One day, after a general training, the warrior fotyid occasion to til at the house where our subject resided and sheathed In his full panoply, he dls mounted from his steed, inarched up lo the front door and rung the bell. It so chanced that our young friend opened the door, but as the overpowering vi sion of red snd yellow, steel .«nd feathers, flashed upon him, h« Incontinently turned and ran up stairs to his mother.

Oh. inamina, there soin-body at tbe door!" Who is it, Sammy?"

I don't know, mamma, but I think It's God!"—["'Tho Club-Room" In Galaxy for January.

TUB PRIXCB'S PALACB.—Sandrlughain, the country home of his Itoy »l Highness the Prince of Wales, Is in Norfolk, one of the eastern countl's ot England, and at least 120 miles from the metropolis. The Prince bought the estate soon after his marriage, and it has continued to be his favorite resort ever since. Quiet and secluded, with plenty of game of every kind, and surrounded by loyal inhabitants, it Is a delightful resort for retirement »nd pleasure. The Prince is lord of the manor, and has tbe gift of the rectory in bis own hands, which be recently bestowed upon one of bis old and favorite tutors. The bouse is a splendid mansion, the Prince having laid out enormous sums upon it. It was h'-ro that rovaltv basked and enjoyed Itself without having .11 its movements placarded in the papers. 5

OjfBdav, at Deep 1) ne, Mr. Harti**« found the tutor of Mr. Hope's sons pacing up snd down the room in the most distressing agitation of mind. "Is there any thing the matter," inquired Mr. Hani-ss, anxiously. "Tbe matter!" he replied, "1 should tblnk there wss! Three of tbe worst tbl .gs that can possibly happen to man: I'm In love. I'm In debt, and I've doubts about the d'»ctrtne of tbe Trinity!"—£ Harper's Drawer.

AM Indiana journal aays mat since tbe autborietls of La Porte placed redbonded girls on tbe street corners of night for illuminating purposes, tbe number of male nocturnal pedestrians that find it necessary to hug lamp-posui to preserve their equilibrium Is truly astonishing.

A KBXTOCKY girl says when she dies she d-sires to have tobaooo planted over nor crave, that the weed nourished oy her bereaved lovers, .There Is poery In the Idea.

OLD LETTERS.

Tonng persons frequently stn life with an impression that in years they will be *Uad to rete quently to the records of the pasi. this laudable design they write di and keep all letters addressed to The diary, which is simply a lett addressed, or addressed to one's a distance of a few years, is nat subject to tbe same conditions let'or of the more ordinary type, haps a few people still keep uiu tbe old religious type, devoted record of their spiritual develop Tbe diary,however, Inch deal* wit ternai fttcls is rapidly becouiingv tluct variety of literature. We liuv ueceasary time or patience, and content to refer to files of HCWHJ to annual registers, or to BOUIC S records for ull the facts which we to know. Many persons, hnweve preserve piles of lett rs which vended to discharge the same lui They carefully ludorse tbem, lie up in neat bundles mid council to some safe hiding place, to wh ihey vaguely Imagine, it will be esting to look back at some fuiu riod. Nowtso long as letters we ally models of composition, or possibly aspire to that rank, the a sufficient motive for doing this letters bad an Intrinsio value of own and it would h.tve been ous loss to literature if many of factions which have been pub uad been ruthlessly destroyed as received. But the propriety of serving letters must now bejudgi dlflttrent grounds. Laying as business letters, which are nece preserved, and. those ioorvitsiugl specimens which oocasion^l^r pi some share t^e old merit, is betier lo desiroy the ordinary cm file ot our correspondence? 'Cm ed us mere raW material futu tory tbey are, generally speakin pertluous. 'I be,dauber to hisior Kinds at a present day is less scarcity than, in ^e supcrabuuda materials.

FeW people, moreoter, when t' about preserving letters, have to the possible biogritphfr of the I Tbey think only ot iheir own gra lion, and say to themselves, How sanl il will be when we are old back to records oi past ftiendshi of early triumphs and disui men is I Tbey put tbeiuaclvis alllludo of the lotus-eaters, dr and living again In memory wit old taces ot iheir infancy. Such sous would do well ask Humr one or two questions, It is pr rue ihat lu luior years It is very ant at times lo piciure Hie seen and the events with which wi ceased to bo familiar A unb ipplly constituted who does eutdonally fall into the framo ot expressed in Gray's Ode, and in iu a pleasing regret at the thong ibe playing llelds ahd tbe amiqu) era. We think what fine mid 1 ous lads we onco were how ed our sporis and our studies what ardor we yearned for the iieiore us aud the luuiul of rca What pleasant limes, too, we on wben we first landed ourselves and thought that the wyes of I he couniry were fixed upon the clas at lie colleges! Wo cau even ourselves that there was noihin enj«0 uient in the tlraoof our tlrsi making, or ol our entruncc into tession. Such dreunsol our are doubtless delightful, und It iu well to provide our-clyes with lb terials for exciting thein. liul th serious objection to the parij scheme of im-serving lettorw. Ii seems as If tbe pleasant leit lost and dull ones preserved. If er do turn to our old correspond, instead of leaving it in the dust ancient drawer, which Is perltii| ordinary result, our imprHssloi turnl over tho authentic rcco ihat we were stupider and dullc we could havtt possibly have couc These letters that should prcsvr buoyant spirits of childhood or th guine anticipations of youth, are ter-ol-tact scrawls with a great about money, wiih much absurd bllng over trifling evils, and with little sentiment ot any kind. Is It lovers do not know how to put best feelings into writing, or is after all, the pleasantness of such pleu spects depends chiefly upon a :o illusion? We suspec are applicable. Most let'ers, a rate, in these 1 alter days, are and stupid, and require to be inented by fresh recollections circumstances in order to umk tolerable anil moreover, the ed happiness of youth is In ver meitsurt though we need not a far—a popular superstition, i'n no greater *h«»ck could be given of us than if we could live ove one or two of those days which ored so attractively by the mer ol lime. So aa reading lette hies us perforin that feat, ll generally better be burned an as they lire extremely dull reeo of the stupid things tbey con rate, the,case Is still stronger.

SPKAKINO of parsons, a story of one who is 'lavored" with niiudeduitss and a shert mcmor has a habit of forgetting somct intends to say in ibe pulpit, and alter sitting down, will rise up and begin his supplementary in with "By-the-way." Recently through a prayer, when he lies forgot what he is about, and sa* abruptly without closing. In ineiit or two be rose, and pointI forefinger at the amaxed conur*§ be said, "Oh! by-the-w»y—AHI«»

A SMAIX bull-pup and a Ne land dog wen* engaged in a Ion near lhe L'keview (N. J.) depot Erie Railw.iy, one day last we«*k itile wouhi undoubtedly have In a draw bad not tbe little dog his intagoinsi on tbe track ai him there unt 1 a train came' The liule dog crouched down, a train went over him without him, while the !»lg_dog was gro saustgi' duced to prove this assertion f*«' Erie Railway agent of that stat

A NKttRO on trial for murder it lucky, sharing tie general bel' he would be bung, sold bis some medical students, who very wroth when tbeir fondly an ed subject was sentonced to si imprisonment.

IM speaking of "intellectual

Seadly

r." too Churchman depre mental dyspepsia that Its foundation laid in many American girts, between the seven and fourteen, by the aor wsshy Sunday school books."

YOCMO Gent: "Might I ssk —ah—" Miss: "Very sorry, si am engaged for the next three d.

G.: It is not dancing—ah It's beg your pardon, miss you ting on my hat!"