Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 2, Number 39, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 23 March 1872 — Page 6

KEttPIHU HIS WORD.

"Only peony boi," be nlit: But the gentleman larned away hi* bead. As tt be ihrenk from the aqualra Might the boy who stood by the foiling light. "Oh alrt" he ataramered, "you cannot know-

And he brushed from his matches the flakes or snow. That the sudden tear might have chance to fall)

i(0r

I think—I think yon woold take them all.

is "Hungry and cold at our garret pane, Ruby will watch till I come again. Bringing the loaf. The sun has net,

And ne hasn't a crumb of breakfast yet. s?.® "One penny, and then I can bay the bread," •?:kf Tnu gentleman stopped: "And you?" he jKild,

"-It—I

can put up with them, hunger and

•••••»?•':Cold, But Kuby is only five years old.

ass **I promised our mother before she went— vs She knew I would do It and died content's I promised promised her, sir, through best, through worst, sis I always would think of Ruby first.

The gentleman pau-cd at his open door, n4$t 8u tales he had often heard before »'ss But he fnmbled his purse in the twilight fefi drear. si **1 hare nothing less than a shilling herem'JI ''Oh, nlr, If you'd only take the pack, iSs I'll bring you the change in a moment back

Indeed you may tru*t me!" "Trust you?— no I But here is the shilling take It and go." ."iWS ir. 'The gentleman lolled in his easy chair,

And watched hit cigar wreath melt In the air. Anl smiled on his children and rose to see The baby asleep on its mother's knee. "And now It Is nine hy the clock," be said, •'Time my darling were to bed, "am Kl"« me'good night,' and each be sure,

When you're SHylng your prayers, re mem ber the i,oor."

lust then came a message—1"A boy at the door"— But ro It was uttered he stood on the floor Half breathless, bewildered, and ragged and

Htr.itiKo

fm Ruby—Mike's brother—I've brought you the J'ianye.

uMlku'a

hurt,Kir,'twas dark tfie snow made iilin Mind, And didn't lake notice the train was behind, Till he KllppeiJ on the track —aud then It wiilKZt-d by And li'-'s home In the garret I think he will

*Yet nothing would do hlrn, nothing would "y.sa do, But out through the snow 1 must hurry to you vsQf his hurt he wus certain you wouldn't have heard,

And so you might think

word.

he had broktn hit

When the garret they hastily entered, they w-s *i Two arum, mangled, shapeless, outstretched from the stra w—

I'ou did ill—dear Uuby—Ood bless you.'"

HUlil,

And Mm hoy, gladly smiled, sank back— tiiul Wjin dead.

Two Sides of the Same Story. TP v"

HIH I.) K.

A tologram announcing tho 9f*rions flln 8t my only sister, hud shortened my hardly oared holiday. Though I si tried from the north imi.fdiately by the nl^lit mail, London would not bo ro icnod before the next morning. Wit the prospect of a long and cold J|iirnov, I provided plenty of rn^s and lurs, and rolling myself up warmly ill Ui' in, hoped to bo able to allay my anxi -l\ in sleep. 1. is a hitler night in the beginning 01 cumber. iSnnw had been lulling Slight.'y during the ty, an I the conntry through winch we hurried looked bleak and dism il. Spiteol'the wt-aiher Lh ere appuired to bo a good many passengers, and 1 vvaa just oongr.it uiating nivselt on bavins Mtteured an empty uarri tge, when at a small country station, tu my gre.it disgust, the door was opened- and a lady got in. Belore I could ni iiioustrate the dKir was shut and the train was again on the move. "Coulotind th.it guard I mentally «J ioul iti'il "wn a lot of colli he fellow is ljt in I" and I proceeded to 1 wrap in)' tig-r skin inore tightly si Sxooiid inc. In doing so, however,"! found (he unweleoino intruder had her loot on the end ol it. The ^Iri, f«»r 4 Co I Judged her to be from tho slight- •!$ neas of her figure, mowd iustautly ,and

I caught a glimpse ol her face, ft was Cu^tigli I Tn-» utter wrolehednoss. palh»r and woetH«goiiH look arrested my aiy haul and noticing that she had r: amy a suiall bn^ with her, instead of

Ciklug care ol myself, I begged her to accept the the loan of my run, remark• t^ig at the same time that it was "a frightfully eold nUliL lor traveling." Th girl looked up, and smiling tier 4 tiiinks adapted my oir r, but sank a Attain mto a dijeeted attiude into her cDrner of the riage.

Somehow I could no^aottlo to sleep. In vain 1 shut 1113' ey«s some strings 4\traotiou uisod mu to open them, and look toward my companion. She was now leaning forward, gasing into the trkuca^ with an anxious questioning look upon her face—a look as if she Were thriving to see into futurity— painful to behold in one so young. lu the dim light given liy the lump, I Judged her to be about twenty jears of age— a refined, fragile-looking girl, far t« delloate to be abroad alone auoh a night. From her faceniv glanee Ueaoeuded to her dress, which w.ui iiidsoine and in very good taste she id taken off her gloves, and her small well formed inds were cl isped tightly together on her lap. Th.it she was laboring under sonn deep dismiss or anxiety of mind, there could be no doubt.

W sit not strange for so young and prstty a girl to be traveling alone at •uch au liour? I had looked at my Yatch when she got into the carriage, •udlt 111 irked midnight. No one had accompanied her to the door, not eveu a servant I Who WAS she? Where CDuld she be going? Would she be •u-t? Losing myself in these conjectures I awoke, making the chilly sir •till more ohill. glanced at my 00m-

rut

anion she looked positively death like, mm wide awake as ever. As we ereclnae to London I began prepare siv things for leaving the train. The

lrl returned my tigvrskin. and thankme for It in a low v«»lce. I made a 16w observations on the wretcheilneas, being obliged to travel all uiaht, to

Vbob she barely responded. As I

luggage as you are not going to tie met." "Thank yoa," she replied, while a vivid blush crossed her pale face "but I have only this bag with me."

On reaching London I transferred my traps into a cab, and we started together'in search of breakfast. Very noon we were somfortably located beside a biasing Are, with steaming bat coffee and ana eatables before us. My companion ate buf little, and spoke still less.

How pretty she is," I thought, "and how entirely the lady. Still there is somethingso entirely strange about the whole affair that I will make a mental

A suddenly frightened look, a blush and catching of the breath, a monn ut a

Core

ortant business. The card sent 111 the name of' Col. Byng." Now lor tho solution ot the mystery!" I thought, as, quickly following the servant, I lound myself 111 the presence of a tall military-looking man,

were used, our search proved

HER SIDK.

Things came to a climax for me that evening. How vividly I remember each particular!

The long low drawing room, dimly

You must accept Mr. Lomax before my return at the end of the week Beatrice. There must and shall be no further delay, else you will remain no longer in my heuse."

Those were the fatal words that words that would give me no rest. I looked across at Mr. Lomax. Ai-cept him? be bis wife? belong to him? the wife of a man three times myagf? a man of morose, gloomy 'emper, whom I instinctively feared as well as haled whose touch I shuddered at whose

tance seemed to blight me? Bt*C4uae| was rich and I poor, was I, therefore

rht

her, I went on talking I told her I oome what might 1 a»as hurrying home to my sister's sick 1 "Mr. Lomax wishes you to sing, ifced, but concluded with: Beatrice," came from the distanoe my will be too early, however, to 1 stepmother's silvery insincere voice, knock them up when we reach town Seeing that I hesitated, she cmsssd •0 I ah all go first and get some break- quickly over and hissed in my ear: at a oottoe-bouae wh«rs I am known Vhich Is sure to be open." "la It a place a 1 dy aan goto?" to Biv surprise asked my oempaulon "be •uw, If so, I shall be very glad of aome ooffas before I continue my Joar-

'^Oocnei no nonsense do as you are bidden instantly, or you go

your

room." Without more ado I went to the piano, found a song that 1 remembered hejjarticttlarly diallked, and auug it—

Beatrice,! eannot congrafn

"II you will permit me, I shall ba be very happy to take you there," I lata you either on your song or your cabm to take ma again North, and

IvsweiM, "and also to aee altar your voice," said Mrs. Byng, forouee forget-1 reaching a part of Loadkm knew,

6 TERku-HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL. MARCH 23. «8?2.

ting her role of amiability. "Pray,sing something that will give us some fittle pleasure to listen to."

Mr. Lotnax here Joined in: "Tea, Miss Byng yon seem to forget that the last time you sang that song, /express* ed my dislike to it."

So." thought I, "before even I have agreed to marry you, you dare censure me! I wonder what it will be after 1

However, I took a piece and played it through. Just as it was finished I found Mr. Lomax at my elbow. "Cruel Beatrice, not to sing," be murmured and suddenly encircling me with bis arms, kissed me two or

note of everything about her—hazel •three times. eyes and hair arched eyebrows, well I struggled madly to firee myself defined large nose pretty mouth jumped up and out of the door not beautiful teeth oval face." But 1 felt however, until I had heard Mrs Byng's all the time without thus minutely ex- voice saying soothingly, "Don't be disaming each feature, her face was ludel- mayed, Mr. Lomax the dear girl will ibiy impressed on my mind I was not, tk me round in a day or two, I will anlikely soon to forget either the face or swer for it." the girl. "Come round! She would answer

Being very anxious for news of my for it." sister, directly our uieal was finished I Half crazed, I fled up the stairs, paid my bill—the girl would not hear rushed to my room, at.d locked the of my paying her share—aud ordered door then I plunged my face into a the waiter to call a hansom. I basinful of watei to wash away, if pos-

Please, a cab for me at the same sible, every trace of those bated kisses, time," said she. Yes be had certainly made a masterly "Now," I thought, "she will be stroke then—he had made me realize obliged to give an address, and I shall how utterly 1 hated biin. I felt scorcb-

know where she is going. Placing her in the cab and shutting the door, I said, ''where shall I tell the driver to take you

how utterly 1 hated biin. ed. polluted, by bis touch. Aud my father bad said by his return it was to be a settled thing.* MrsByng of course, had forced Lim to say tbM she wanted me gone that her child uiiuht reign supreme. Why, not con-

hesitation, and then "Teuiple-b.«r" was tent with forcing this hated marriage the order given. I marveled, but give the direction, took off my hat, and the cab drove off. "Very mysterious," I thought. However, ttere was no time for indulging in vain speculation,home I must hasten. My sister I lound very ill though all danger wa9 over but what with the necessary attention tu^

I rubbed my eyes. Did I see clearly? ol my best ornaments, and then I got Was I dreaming? No there was the myself ready for the walk. exact description of my travelling coin- The sounds in the house gradually panion—date and description coincided, ceased. I heard Mr Lomax go. I heard Theu there was some mystery connect- my step-mother go to her room, and ed with the girl, after all. 1 thought the usu locking-up t»ke place, and so. jthen all was quivt. Half an hour

Five minutes' reflection, and I was. elapsed. writing to "L. B.," giving a full ac "Now, or never." I thought, and count of my journey to town. The let- carefully unfastening my door, I crept ter dispatched, I waited with what pa- down-st drs. went into the dining-rsom ticuce I could for the next move iu the and took a glass of wine, and pu ting play. into my pocket some biscuits left on

Just an I had finished dinner the next the table, I noiselessly opened the evening, and was feeling somewhat French window and stepped out on the lonely, not having my sister to talk to, terrace. as had ever been the case since we were Free! As lightly as possible I glidW'ft orphans together years ago, the ed. more than walked, past the front of servant entered, saying a gentleman was in the library, who desired to see me, if possible, instantly, ou very ini-

upon me, she bad even that very day heaped other indignities upon me I had bad to do servants' work. O, what was I to do? My father had said I should not remain with m. Then I must marry Mr. Lomax? No—never! Rather would I beg!

Lightning-like, a thought flashed

her and a great press of business of my through my mind. Was it possible? I own, I ceased to think further of my had restlessly been pacing the room I strange traveling oompanion. now stood still. I put my hand to my

Four days after, however, my eye, head to still its tbrobhings. Yes, I was suddenly arrested by the following would' do it I would save them all advertisement in the "sensation" col-1 from further trouble. I would disspumu of the Times: "Left her home, pear. Again I bathed my t»ce, but on the evening of the 1st ot December, this time to clear my brain. I looked young lady. Middle height!) and at my watch—eight o'clock. I rememdelicate looking brown hair and eye- he red suddenly that the London mail bro s, oval face. Dressed, when st stopped at a small station about three seen, in a maroon rep dress, trimmed miles distant, at midnight—plenty of with velvet and fringe. Is supposed to tune to catch it. have with her a hand-bag, with iniii .ls My resolution was taken. I had five in gold on it of 'B. B.' Auy person pounds in my dressing-case, given me giving information as to her wher.i- only a few dayci previously for allowbouts or any information whatever, ance, I took it out and began my arshall be handsomely rewarded. Apply rangements. First I packed up a small L. B., postoffice, Stonham." hand-^ag, into which I also put several

the house, without deigning one tare welt trlancn at. the place that, until rs. Byng's advent had been a happy home to me, but that lately had been been worse than a prison, and with a sigh of relief found mvselI beyond the gites, with the long stretch of road before me.

who came forward to meet me in great agitation, aud, as I oli'cred my hand, broke out with, "Tell mo where to find inv daughter, for God's sake!1'

How solitary it looked. Hitherto I hid acted in a sort of maze but. the cold night air,in reviving, also brought me back to the present moment. Should I ever be able to walk those dreadful three miles alone? Looking up sud-

(Juickly I related the circumstances of our journey and as I ended thesto- denly. I siw alar the light glimmering ry the poor lather droppod his head on from Mr^. Byng's window that decidhis bre:ist, murmuring, "All my fault, ed my fate. I ran swiftly on. 111V fault. I was too hsirsh vvito the poor child I know it now. too late. And yet I believed I was acting tor the best. Sir"—tnrniug to tne—"1 thank you heartily for easing my mind so far. You ty you are a lawyer. I pray you unite your efforts with mine help me to find my child

Snow was lvingonthe ground every bush and twig stood sharply out ag iinsr, the sky clearly defined. As I pissed a belt of fir trees, the sliuht noise of TIIy own foo.'steps tartled me and glanced behind, to be seized with fear at in.v own shadow. Turning the corner of tho road, a d^rk moving

We sat late into the night, arranging thinir ime toward me. What could it plans for the following day. 1 preva Ied upon Col. Byng to take up his quuiters at my house, tb it he might be on tho spot to compare notes beside, the poor man was in such a distracted state it was not fit for him to be in a hotel alone."

Though every available means of the detective force, advertisements, ct'.,

fruitless,

be? Mv feet seemed rooted to the ground, else I must have turned and and fled backward. Hower, as it came nearer, it proved to be only a horse with a clog its leg. Taking courage I rushed pist it, and leaving the road, crossed wo fields, and began to skirt the river, that being a short cut to the station.

The unhappy father at last, worn out glided on! But vei it fascinated me, with anxiety, trouble and self-upl*raid- 1 and I stopped to gaze at it for a nioings, had to return to his home, his af- ni"nt. What evil spirit wus it that

fairs there urgently requiring his presence. His parting words to me were: "Leave 110 stone unturned spare no expense find Beatrice. I feel my ac-| tions have murdered my child."

II irk and cold it looked as it

p,)«scwBPd me that second? With a shudder spr ing quickly forw ird and 011 my w*y afresh, nor did sl icken speed until the station lights came in view. Not one human being had

Left to niyselt.I redoubled my efforts, met me so far I might hope that I had but was baflled at every turn. I trem- gained mv liberty. blingly asked myself^ "Could it be Putting on a thick vail, I entered and true? was she no more? That face, so took my ticket for London—only just sweet, so pure—that face which I now in time, for the train cune up the next felt was mv fate—was I never to see minute. How thankful was I to be again Tho thought was maddening. "Leave no stone unturned ," no. there could never again be rest for mo until I had found her.

even in stick 1 haven of refuge! Sinking back into the first s^at. I found I was not alone, a gentleman sat in the opposite sided the carriaire we had not gone far when be offered me bis

At last that night, as every other time, good or evil, must oome to an end. As soon as it waa light my companion begin to prepare for leaving the tram I looked at his faoe It was good and kind—should I confide In bim and beg his help? No henceforth It was for m* to act alone—my raah step bad forfeited the woman's prerogative ot being taken oars of already punishment came in that thought( However I plucked up oourage to aak him to tak« me to some plaoe for breakfast: and then, when lo a cab after he baa bidden me adieu. I felt as tboocb my on* remaining frieod was ROBS there bmi been a sense of protection even in hia proauuee.

The need of action, however realled me to myaeif. After driving a abort distanoe toward Temple-bar, I-ordered

rug, which I gladly accepted, for it was lying cold and stiff they would shake feartully cold, ana then" beseemed to sleep.

During that night I underwent a fi-ry ordeal of doubt and fear. No

lit by 1 he lamp placed on a sui ill table sleep visited my eves, my future plans by the fire, near which sat mv step-: had to be made: but chaos rciuned sumother, toying with some bright-color- preme in my mind, and anxious ques©d wools, and talking merrily to the tionings as to whether, after hII. 1 had disagreeable cynical looking inan at the acted rightly would perplex me. opposite side of the hearth while I, at a distant table, pretended to be re «diug though all the while my father's irting words kept repeating themselves over and over again In uiy mind, and dancing before me on the page ^n rain I tried to read.

would the shock harm my father, who, until Mrs. Byng entered the house, had invariably been kind to me? But no! He had been so harsh lately because I had declared I could not do as he had wished with respect to Mr. Lomax. The net bad gradually closed around me each day for the last two months I had in vain pleaded to be left tree,—he had tightened the strings, Mrs. Bitig keeping him up to the mark —be had declared 1 should agree to this marriage or leave his bouse. Well, the bird had got free a little sooner than I hey expe«-ied, that was all! Free! But whither next?

from having been near at school, I got

•ut and paid the man, and then taking my bag in my hand sought for some quiet, inexpensive lodging. Finallj, after a weary walk, I succeeded in getting a cheap bed room in a respectable street after ordering some necessary things, I sat down to consider the next step to take. Certainly a suitable change of oreaa I would so and buy new things at once. Than I went to a servants' registry office, and put my name down for a lady's maid plaoe. My monev would not hold out long thus I might gain an honest livelihood, I thought in my inexperience. Surely in the vortex of London one's identity could be lost!

That night sleep came, and the whole of the next day illness kept me prisoner. It was the reaction: the mind, though still master of the body, which was weak and tender. At last, shaken and feeble I succeeded in dressing. Horror of horrors! on counting my small stock of money I found it would bt barely sufficient to pay the expeuscs of the past day. Hastily I put on uiy boi net and started in search of a situation. I, Beatrice Byng! A list was given me, but at each house where I applied the place had just been filled up. Having parted with some of my jewels, I continued uiy search for a situation, and at the end of a few weeks was seut to see a lady who was looking out for a maid for her daughters. How odd felt to be shown into her prrgence as a servant! I know I behaved strangely, illness had made 1110 nervous after putting a lew general questions the lady asked for uiy character. "I have not lived out before," I answered.

Then, at all events, young woman, you can give me some reference?" "No, ma'am," I said: 'Iwn only ask vou to try me without auy one speaking for me I will do my utmost to please you."

Really, this is most abominaole of Mrs. Rogers sending me a person without any character pray go instantly. I never have anything to do with such ss you."

A burning blush overspread my face and I withdrew how I got out of the house 1 know not. That wis the last s:tuation I would seek! Utterly hopeless, aud worn out in mind and body, 1 walked up and down the terraces aud squares, dreading to go back to uiy lonely room, though tearing to be seen and recognized even now. One thought alone brought comfort: fur better this life even than that of the betrothed ol Mr. Lomax.

It seemed to my excited imagination that people put their heads out of their carriage windows to look after me wondered to myself if I looked as strange aud unreal as I felt. Walking along, I caught glimpses of couiforta ble kitchens, bright fires, and groups ot merry servants. It was just dusk. At one house a carriage-load ot children was being put down—one young mother even came to the door to uu-et her child—there was joyous greetings and much laughter, liow the voices thrilled through me! So had I once been. And now a fugitive, and almost starving, I crept along. How gdod the smell of that dinner being cooked (I had tasted nothing that day.) A peal of bells struck my ear. Christ mas-eve! So it was. Choking back uiy tears I hastened on: no Christmas greetings for me—110 kiss, 110 presents, no joy. No one to take any care whether I lived or died.

With these thoughts I crept back to my lodging: they cune and told me even there that they were going out to a familj' gatherivg.

Very well," I responded only let me be." The landlady looked at me sorrowfully, and saying I had best go to bed and get warm—I had no fire—and that she would send me up some tea, left me to my own sad thoughts.

Bitter tears came to my aid. my brain felse had been crazed repentance for my rash step began to make itself felt: conscience whispered that I IM(| not considered sufficiently its possible elfect upon others. Afttr all, was not the punishment merited But then the alternative—marriage with a 11.an I despised as well as haled Ah, well! Welcome death before that!

The Christmas-bells rang all that evening and far into the night. I sank into a sort of trance cold and hunger alike were forgotten. I saw a well-lit room, warmth and plenty prevailed, merry childish figures ran about, my father sat at the h-ad of a well-covered table, round hitn were many bright faces a little girl dressed to represent Christmas danced up to him. he took her up iu his arms and kissed her brow It was myself I tried to spe»k and awoke.

Where WHS I WHS it really me lying there all alone with the cold moonlight resting on my forehead? Was I still dreaming? I sat up aud gave a shuddering glance round. Ah yes! This was all real, and I had run away irom home, so I had. It seemed along time ago—years almost. How odd and ill I felt! Surely I was not going to die there, iu that room all alone? I screamed aloud—there was no answer —no one heeded the lonely lodger. I put my clasped hands above iny bead, and prayed for calmness and help in my extremity. Then my thoughts wandered again to death" perhaps I should be found there in the morning

their beads and murmur, "Poor young thing!" The landlady would find a directed envelope in my pocket, and then my father would come up and identify ine. Ishou be put in my coffin cirefully and buried In some Loudon qpmetery among strangers away from anv one who had ever loved ine. My father would repent then bis harshness —perchance weep—too late. He would look at me, all so still and white, aud know it was his doing that I lay there. How sad it would be to see one so young dead Would my face change much, I wondered? They would let inv long bair down on tbe pillow, and perhaps strew a few flowers over me caring for me too late—too late! Mrs. Byng then would grieve, end Mr. Lomax also. But where should I be, the 1 that lay there

Sleep came at last, full of troubled dreams, but blessed, as it bi ought forgetfulness of the present. Christmas morning, iu trying to rise, I fainted so had to remain where I was. They brought me food out of pity tbe woman of the house sat by my bedside, and begged to be allowed to write to my friends. "There most be some one who cares for you, poor child," she said. "No one," I sadly answered "only let me alone."

Tbe next day she again stood at the bot om of my bed her husband wanted his rent b* refused eveu to get bread until be was paid she could not change his resolution. Payment, or else I was to be turned into tbe street, ill or well.

You shall have your money, and I will quit the room to-day." 1 said as I emptied the contents or my purse into her willing banda. There waa only just enough—aota penny over—and all my ornaments I bad alretdy pawned. What to (to next* alas, I knew not.

Despair gave momentary strength. I rasa and dress ad. One look at the glass before I left no one would reoogniae Beatrice Byng now—no farther foar of that. Sunken eyes, hollow cheeka, white lips. The old bright Beatrice Byng,then, was really already dead it was merely her spirit or ghost that moved along now!

Mechanically took up my bag, and

S-iendlesa.

ussed out of the house homeless and

Wandering aimlessly up and down some quiet terrace near, I felt my little strength was going money tor food must be had somehow. A lamp-post before a well-lit house attracted my attention surely I might lean against it no one would sav me "nay" there. A sudden impulse, a quick resolve, and I broke out with a hymn I loved: "While shepherds watched their flocks." It was as though an angel sang within tne, the voiee was so pure and clear. The door of the house opened s"Hie one came to my side money was held out. I looked up, and saw dimly through a film of tears a gentleman "Mis Byng!" was all he said and I lost consciousness.

HIS SIDE.

She fell into tnese arms. 'After all, it was decreed that I should find her. I carried her into my bouse, my sister, who was now quite well helping me. We laid her in our best guest-chamber. Many days and nights death and love fought together but love gained the mastery my darling was restored to health. Day by day she grew to. know how I loved her day by uay her heart became mine. In the sweet Springtime, when flowers bloomed au4 the violet gave out its perfume, we were married.

Col. Byng gave his daughter away but Mrs. Byng never even sent a message. I find it bard to forgive her but Beatrice whispers, "It it had not been lor her, we should never have met."

THK HOUSKHOLD.

BREAD BISCUIT.—Three pounds flour, half a pint of Indian meal, a little butter, two s|oonluls of lively yeast set it before (he fire, to rise over night mix it with warm water.

SADCEFOK BOILED PUDDINGS.—Equal

Ceaten

Hrts of butter and white sugar, well together till it becomes light then seasoned with nutmeg and wine or brandy.

To COLORSLATE COLOR.—Boil yellow oak bark iu an iron kettle till the strength is extracted. Take out the bark, then add a very little copperas ami you have a pretty "color with uo expense.

LIGHT BISCUIT.—Ten pounds flour, a pint of buttermilk, bait a teaspoonful of deratus, put into the buttermilk a small piece ot butter, or lard, rubbed into the flour, and make it aboi the consistency of broad bulore bakiug.

COMPOSITION CAKE.—1% pound of sugar, 1% pound of flour, pound of butter, 1 pint of milx, 4 eggs, half a gill of wine or brandy. 1 nutmeg. Bake an hour and a half. These quantities make three loaves.

To REMOVE PAINT AND PUTTY FROM WINDOW GLASS.—Put sufficient saleratus into hot water to make a strong solution, then saturate the paint which is 011 the glass. Let it remain until nearly dr3r, then rub it off with a woolen

clolh-«»

CLEANING STOVES.—Stove lustor.when mixed with turpentine, and applied in the usual manner, is blacker, more glossy''and durahlo than when mixed with "any other liquid. The turpentine prevents rust, and when put on an old rusty stove, will make it look as well as ever.

LEMON PRESERVES.—One pound of pounded loaf'sugar quarter of a pound of butter, six ggs, aud the whites of four well-beaten, the rinds of two lemons, an the juice ol'thiee. Mix together, aud simmer till tho consistency of honey. Stir ull tho titue or it will burn.

SHORT ROM *.—'Take about live pounds ot Hour, ami a piece of butter half the siz:* of an egg, two spoonfuls of voast, and mix it with warm milk make it into a light dough, and ler it stand by the fire all night should it sour, put in a liuie saleratus. Baku in a quick oven.

SUGAR CAKE?.—Half pint of butter, one and a hail pint of sugar, two eggs, juice and grated rind of one lemon, half teaspoon of soda dissolved in two tablespoonfuls of milk, pinch of salt, fiour enough to enable the dough to be rolled out easily. A little nutmeg. Iloll thin. Cut in shapes, aud dry 011 a sieve after baking.

SPLIT ROLLS.—Ono egg well beaten one tablespoonful of sugir: one yeast cake dis*olved in a cup of warm milk two tablespoonfuls of salt fiourenough to muse a stiff batter set to rise when risen, work in a large spoonlul of butter, and flour enough lo roll roll out xn inch tluck, spread over with butler or lard fold in half cut with biscuit cutter let rise aud bake. 8AUCB FOB BAKED PUDDINOS.—Take one pint of water, a large teacup of sugar, piece of butter size of a large egg, a little nutmeg and essence of lemon, wnd bring to a boil. Now take little flour, or corn starch, (which is best) well beat into a paste,and thinned and stir in gradually, till of the consistency of cream, or as thick as you like then add a large tablespoonful of vinegar or brandy.

APPLE SOUFFLET (very nice).—Stew tbe apples just as you do for sauce, adding a little lemon peel aud juice, omitting tbe butter: lay them pretty high around tbe inside or a biking dish. Make a custard of the yolks of two eggs to one pint of milk add a little cinnamon and augar. Let It cool, and then pour it into the dish beat the whites and spread over the ton, browning it a little in tbe oven. Sprinkle a small quantity of sugar over it will brown sooner. Tbe apples should be about half an inch thick at thejbottpm and sides of tbe dish.

FABXKR'S FRUIT CAKE.—Three cupful of sour, dried apples, soaked over night in warm water. In tbe morning drain off tbe water, chop not too fine, leaving tbe apple about as large* as rai*in«, then simmer in two cupfuls of molasses, two hours or uatll quite dry, that is. until the apple has abaorbed all tbe molasses one naif cupful of butter, well oeateo one of sugar, four eggs one cupful of sweet milk one teaspoonful of olovee one of cinnamon one of nutmeg one and a half teaspoon«uls of soda, one wine glaas ot wine, four and a half teacupfula of flour add raisins or currants, it you please but roll In flour before putting to the other ingredients beat all together thoroughly bake carefully in a well heated oven. This Is excellent to our taste, far better than the riober kind, s*y black or fruit cake, and mors asaily digested.

Utah, when admitted as a siaie, will permit her women to vote.

[From Lipplncort for March.]

QOHORRQW."

Lot and kit vrife—A new vertion.

A correspondent In Virginia sendi the folowing: As I approached a pond, a few days ago, where some negroes were cutting some ice, I chanced to hear the conclusion of a conversMtion bpfween two of the hands on 1 he subject of religion. "What you know 'iiout 'ligion? You don't know nnthin 'tall 'bout 'ligion?" "I know heap 'hout 'ligion. Ain't I bin done read de Bible?" "What you read in de Bible? I lay you carn't tell me nuthin' what you read in de Bible.?" "But I kiu, dough (though). I read 'bout 'Morrow." "Whart sort ob 'Morrow—to morrow "No, Go-Morrow." "Well, whar he go, and what he go far?" "Shoh, man! he didn't go nowbar, 'cos he was a town."

Dar! didn't I tell yon didn't know nuthin 'bout nuthin'? You read d' Bible! Hoccum(how come) de town name'Morro, and ho* de town gwinr anvwhar? Town ain't got no legs." "Man, you's a born tool. sho\ town named Go-Morrow CMZ dev didn' hab no time to stsy dar talklti' loni talk."

Debin dey didn'! Ef dey stay dar to day, why can't dey stay to-morrow'., 'Splain me dat." "Bui dey all gone and de town too. All done bu'11 up." "Et dere ain't no pepul, and dere ain't no tow, how de town IIHIU Wior ro? O'long, nigger! Didn't I know youdidn'know nuthin''tail 'hout 'ligion? But (sarcastically) tole me some u»o' what you read iu de Bible." "Well, Morrow* was a big town'bout mighty nigh as big as Washington City—and de pepul whxt live dat was de meanes' pepul in de whole worl Dey was dat inwau dat de Lord h« could't abear 'em, and he make up hi' mind' dat hegwine hu'n de town clea up. Bnt dar was one good man darmember ov de church, a p'sidin cldei —name Lot" "Yaas, I know'd him." "Whar you know'd him."

"On de oanuell (canal He owned batto, and dror it hisse'i." "Heist, man. 1 talkin' sense, now Den de Lord he came to Lot, and say: 'Lot, I gwine bu'n dis town. You and you wife git up aud getbe? you little alls, aud put out 'to' crack, o'day, coz 1 ceri'11 gwine bu dis town and d«* pepul, tomorrow. Den Lot he and his wile riz, aud snatched up their little alls and travaleii soo in de mornin.' And the Loid he two light'ud (lightwood) knots a some shavin's, and he set fire to dat town uv 'Morro, and be Im'n it spa* up, dear down to de groun'." "What 'come o' "He and he wile, dey went and dej went and day went, twell pres'n'lv li wile say. 'Lor! ef I ain't gone and let de meal sifter a the rollin' pin. wisht I may die I' and sheturn roun' go fetch 'em, and she turn roun,' and-1 and—she dar now»!" "What she doin'dar?"

"Nuthin'." -*1'.: -*,• "Must be monsus limy 'oonian." "No she ain't. De Lord he turn li to pilow uv salt 'cos she too 'quis* tive." "D.ir! everybody know 'bout suck salt whoever hear 'bout pillow salt?" But what come o'Lot

Lot, he weren't keer'11 at all 'bo no roliin' pin and ho meal sifter, so kep' straignt 'long 'thout turuin' uv li head, neither to the right, neither the li»f\" "Aud lof' do ole 'oonian dar?" "Yass." "In de middle ob de road %'$ "Yaas." "Mus' kecr'd mighty little fur her wanted to get m^mei'" to seck'ud wif I spec.' But de fus' 111 111 come 'Ion and wanted to gcL some salt to ba ashcake hj gwine to bust a piece ou en Lot's wife and 'stroy her: and win you link dat Call (l it ligion Ar de ole mad lei* her and you road d-

Here 11 peremptory order from tL foreman to "go to work" broke sho the conversation.

F1SAMJ1AL.

A man without money is like the fo lowing things, according to our expe cnce and observation:

Like a body without a soul, Like a wagon without a pole, Like a thresher without a flill, Like a ship without a sail Like a levor without a prop, S Like a drunkard without a drop, Liko a church with' ut a preacher, Like a school without a tmcher, Like a hunter without a guu. Like a day without a sun, i. Like a mill without a wheel, Like a negro without a heel,, Liko a poet without a sonnet, Like a woman without a bonnet, Like a tnaid bereft of her tongue's tl Who oannot Join in the gossip, A pair of spurs without the rowels, An alphabet without the vowels, In the matter as far as his feelings He feels like a girl without a beau. 11. If a man falls to have money the lowing things generally occurs

The men all doubt him, The women all rout him, The children all soout him, Tbe men call him green, The women call bim mean, The children call bim lean. A moral can be drawn from our ob servations:

Tbe root of all evil Is love for the pelf| But the want of it, friends, is the de*. 11 blmaelf.

RATHER a novel device to lllustra the danger of intemperance was resor to at New York on Sunday evening, was announced that "Ned Buntllne,' the popular manufacturer of startlin fiction, would lecture no temperance a tbe Bowery theater At tbe appoint hour, the lecturer stepped upon t" stage, and at tbe same Instant th scenes shifted, and discover**! a series of tableaux. One repreaented an un sightly group of beings In a low de with a glass of liquor In.tbelr bauds Another showed two young men In tb' sot of enticing a younger man to drink and the third waa a living picture of woman lying drunk in the streets wit dead infant in her arms. Those ti blesox were successslvely explained by tbe leoturer, who then proceeeded enlarge upon tbe ruinous consequent that flow from Indulgence In intoxl eating liqnors. But this was very like dramatic spectacle, and it took place at a theater on Sunday night.

LAZINKSS^TOWS on people, it Beg! in cobwebs snd ends in iron chains. The more business a man baa to do the more be la able to accomplish, for ha learns to eoonomiae his time.