The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

· A NI Cc LITf LE (CONTINUED). G~M t.. " , The old man seemed mcl1Ded to talk this ~venmg. He turned himself around to face -Yaitla.nd and ss.1d : " Who is Amy Fletcher?" " She is governess at the Kestertons." "Why? Who got her the place?" " I did," rephed Maitland, looklDg rather guilty. "H-m I you seem to take a considerable interest m this young lady. H&I! she any money?" " None whatever." "Then who paid for her school mg?" "Her father left enough to cover most of t}ie expenses." "And you supplied the rest?" Ma1tland's look was sufliment to condemn l;)im. "It's a nice romantic story," continued the old man : " when do you propose to marrv her ?" "I don't know," replied the young doc· tor ; " perhaps not at all." " You mean she don't care for vou?" "No, I don't mean that; but I am), ID a -very peculiar po~it10n ID regard to her. "What is the pecuharity 2" " Do you ask Il}e to tell yo J ?" " Yes ; why not ?" "I didn't like to do so without you askmg me directly, I have reason to believe that ahe may be an heiress," "I don't see why that should stop you " "No, perhaps not, but people would doubt my smcenty ID proposing to a girl so rich all she may become." ·'It is very odd that an heiress should be a governess. " "She doesn't know who she is," explain· ed Maitland. " I am the ouly one ID the world who does know. Suppose that I ask her hand-she may accept me ; afterwai:d she discovers that she 1s very nob f' what will she thmk of me then? She w1l 1udge nie to be the most despicable man m the world." 1· Why not tell her that she 1s an heiress, and then propose? If she loves you, the fact that she is so r10h will only add to her WJ.lhngness to accept you." "I cannot tell her so becarse she may never be so." Mr Fletcher looked puzzled. "There 1s more m this than you tell me, Maitland," he '!laid, "You've treated me very well, I've taken a. liking for;ou, and for the girl too, should like to help you ·f or that matter if I can, and feel I have done one kindness before it 1s out of my power to do any. How did you come to have this girl on your hands?" " I knew her father and mother very well. ?hey died abroad witlun a few months of each other. I was only a very young man theb, as you ma.v imagme, but they left me m charge of their only daughter, then scarcely more tha.u an mfant. My mother brought her up; when she was old enough she was ~ent to school as I told you," The simple recital mterested the old man more than he ca.red to show. He could not prevent his voice from trembling as he ask· ~I .. " Is her grandfather alive?" "Yes," was the reply. " Why does he not support her?" "Re does not know of her existence. He quarrelled with his son, who went abroad a.nd died thel'e, t.elhng me never to let his father know that he had left a child. 1 have kept the secret uut1l now." " You may as well finish the story now you have gone so far," said the mvahd, fall· 1ng back on lils chair, "What was her fathe;'s name?" "Charles Fletcher." "My son?" " Yes, your son," " Then Amy is my grandchild ?" Maitland assented. "She does not kno 111 it ?" "No; she 1s not aware of the existence of a.ny relative. Your son made me pro· nuse that she should be kept m ignorance of her relationship to you. I shall never t ell her." " That will do for to·mght, I am tired and excited ; my head aches abommably. I will go to bed." Maitland came down-stairs as soon as he had hu p ..tient attended to. He, too, felt excited and feverJSh He determmed to take a stroll m the cool nerung air. His objtct had been accomplished ; he had made known to his patient the existence of his granddaughter. Would the result answer his expectations? If so, wha.t would it be his duty to do ? He was still revolving the matter in his mmd, trymg to look at it d1spass1onately as an outsider, fruhng miserably, when he heard himself accosted : " Hello, Maitland. I thought I recogniz· ed you. Gorgeous night, isn't 1t? Axe you in a hurry?" " I mrvit get bitck soon," was the reply. "I'll walk with you if you don't m1Dd. The truth is I have somethmg very imp ort· ant to t ell you. I've made a terrible dis· ()Overy." "Well," queried Maitland. " You know that Miss Fletch et, who is companion or somethmg at the Kestertons ? I got ta.lk.mg to her to·night pretty confi. dentially, and somehow happened to ask the name of her father. You might have knocked me down with a feather, as t hey say, when she t old me it was Charles Fletch· er Y ov know who he was, I suppose?" "Mr· .!!' !etcher's son." "Just so. l::lweet news for me, isn't it? I have alwats supposed myself the only re· lat1on the old boy has, and he ha! told me times enough that I am his heir. Now, if he hasn't made hie will I shall be in a hole, for everything will go to this girl." "She does not know about i t, does she~" "No, thank goodness. No one knows it but ourselves." "Why have you confided m me ?" asked Maitland. "Ther e you are ';" exclaimed De~ter. " I hadn't decided whether to t ell you or not, when suddenly you appeared before me, and that settled it. It seemed prov1de.ntial." " T.bat's scarcely a sufficient reason for your action, I'm afraid," "No, by Jove, you're right, To tell you the truth for once, I wanted to find out tf the old boy has made a will, and I thought you were t he one most hkely to know. Then it strnck me that it was quite possible you =ght discover the secret without my b.elp, as I know you are a friend o'f the Kestertons and acquamted with the girl." " I ve known it a long time." "Rave you, though? My 1nstmct was r·gbt. Did my unclelmow that Charlie left a <hiJd 'I" "No, he wished it to be kept secret." "Well," said Dexter, after e. few moments <le h berat1 on, " I'm not as safe as I should I 1<e to be I've only one course open to me, , ,,wh will lllSUie everythmg turnmg out 11.::l, l ,, ' What is that?" "I must marry amy." Maitland gave a start, "Marry Amy I" he r epeated, " Yes. Why not? l must get engaged as 1110011. Ae (IO~i»bl~. Whel\ iny uncle dies, if he h'ae left me the pro ,erty, I can break off the engagement II I want to without much d1tliculty; and If she gets 1t all for want of a will, I must press for.ward our marriage. You see I'm showing my confidence ID you tn tell1Dg you my plans hefor*>hand, as I take 1t for granted you mean to let Amy know who she is after my ~le's death, unless he le!lves everything to me b.y will." ··You are quite rill:ht," Fqplied Maitland st1tlly. H-0 had reoovered 1b1s oalmness now, ~nd had nood of all of. >t to reta1D himself. " It certamly was my intention to let her Know, I do not promise you l shall not tell her at once, 1n 1 order that she may have an opportumtr of urgmg her claim." " Oh, C· nfound 1t a.lJ, Maitland, what good will that .do ' Let &t .stand as 1t 1s for a time at any rate. G1Ye a fellow a chance. You see, as it 10, I can m&ke love to her as a man with good expectations, and she is only a. poor gov.,n1ess ; but reverse our pos· 1t1ons, and whtre's my ebance? No, you must let matters st. nd as they are for a week or two." , "I won't promise you an_yth1ng now," re phed Maitland " l shall see you to morrow, and will tell you my dec1SJ.on then ' He turned &'\\ay without even saymg good·n1ght. Dexter WILS sueb. a mlltture of good nature and selfishness ; be had such a way of takmg him wto his conndence and ma.kmg him a sort of pMtnec ID his dis· graceful plans, that Maitland wa.s disgusted beyond measu1e And thlB was the man who was his rival for Amy I And his own hands were tied I .l:fo rose ea11y after a.n almost sleepless D1ght. He fouDd that his patient was out of sorts, ev1dentl y the result of want of rest. He made no allusion to the events of the previous day; both of them seemed unw1ll· 1ng to start the subJect. Howeve:r, in the afternoon, Fletcher abruptly said: " Maitland, 1 wish you would ~end to my ner.hew's hotel. You know 1t, I suppose?' 'Ye$ are you ~01ng to the terrace this afternoon?" "Yes; the same time as yesterday. I want to see Amy." Half an hour later Dexter made his ap· pea.ranee. Mr. Fletcher asked Maitland to lt:ave tirem andre JOin them on the terrace i~ an hour As he went out Dexter ma.nag· ed to whisper ' " You won't tell her'" "No," replied Maitland firmly. The mterv1ew between uncle and ne· hew was rathi;r long Mr. Fletcher told Dexter that he was not ignorant of bis doings as he supposed, and that ho had for some time doubted whether he ought to let such a li!Cape{lrace be his heir " I was once harsh to my son, said the old man, "and I lost him. I determined to make every allowance for you. I don't ask you whether you deserve it, but I should hke to know what you're plans are. Do you mtend to marry?" This sudden question took Dexter off his guard. Mak1llg up his mmd on the spur of the moment, he answered : "Yes,,, "Whom!" " Well, it isn't qmte settled yet betweel\ us. I have not declared myself yet, but if I obta.m your conseu t, I will do so at the ea.rhest opportunity." " Who is 11he ?" ' ' She is the governess at the Kestertons, " replied his nephew boldly. "You've never seen her, I 1mppose, but she is a very charm· ing girl:" "No fortune, I presumE>?" " I beheve not." "Then you can't marry unless with my money?" Dexter uneasily answered : "No, sir." "Very well," ~aid bis uncle. "I have no obJection to your makmg a love match I'll tell you what 1 will do. It would be un sa.t1sfa.ctory for both of you, if you, a rich man, were to marry her a pauper. If you wm her consent I will give mme and make her heiress of half what I have. You will tlum be on equal terms, as man and wife 1hould be." Dex ter was growing more and more un· comfortable. This was far from the state of thmgs he wished for. "You are very thoughtful, uncle," h e murmured. "I should like to see this young lady," cont1Dued Mr. Fletcher. "I presume that by birth and education she is fitted to l;>e your wife ? Y ou have ma.de mquiries, I presume?" " W ell, uncle, I thought that would be rather wantmg in delicacy, Sbe is evident· ly a lady." "Your sent1mentil do you honor, Fred. It was quite right of you not to make 1mpert· m ent enquiries, especially cons1der1Dg her position." D exter felt he had done it now. It was impossible for him to confess that he knew Amy's identity. After a little further con· versation they started for the terrace, where Maitland was shortly to meet them. Meanwhile the · young doctor had been spending an unhappy hour. He was sure Dexter would take the opportumty of telling hlS uncle his mtent10n to marry Amy, the probability was greatly in favor of the old man's approval of his nephew's amt rather than of h1s- Maitland's. One t hmg he was sure of- that he must keep silent till Dexter had either won or lost, and that if be won be must k eep silent forever, His only hope was that Amy loved him. Yet why should she? He had always been careful to treat her as a young sister, and 11 occas10n· ally he had been conscious of saymg somethmg which was not quite appropriate for a brother, she ha.d never given him reason for beh ev1Dg that she had ever contemplated the possibility of a closer r elat1onsh1p be tween them than had always existed. Yet, if he lost her, and to such a heartless scoun· drel ! No I he h e would never let her marry that other. Yet what could he do if she accepted him ? His m1Dd was still full of the matter when he found himself Qn the terrace, near the us11al seat of the 1Dvahd. lllr. Flet cher and Dexter were already ther e, and close by them stood Amy. She had evidently only that moment arrived. Dexter rose, and with considerable eagerness offered her lus seat, and began to introduce her to hlS uncle. "There is no necessity," 1Dterr upted Mr. Fletcher, "this young lady and I have met before." Dexter looked surprised and annoyed. He had made good use of his time durmg the m(>rn1Diz, which he spent ID the company of Amy, domg all he could to compress a courtship mto a couple of hours. He had told her he wanteJ. to introduce her to his uncle, but had not mentioned bis na-ne, and Amy aever imagmed t hat the uncle was t he same old gentleman whoae acqua1Dtance she had already made. At this moment Maitland catne up. He took. off his hat to Amy, and rema.m.ed stand· mg near For some time the conversation was to the la.st degree commonplace ; not one of the men seemed mcbned to be the first to broach the subJect that each was thmkmg of. At last Mr. Fletcher, after a pamful cough, said: " My dear, I want to speak to you serious· ly for a mmute or two. You will excusci an old man that has not many months to 1i11e if he says thin&& a little bluntly. Try and ·uppose that Ile is afraid he has not t1m11 to do otherwise '1 Amy looked surprised, but aa1d nothing. "My nephew," continued Mr. Fletchn, "has told me that he wishes you to be bis wife. He has not, I believe, confessed as much to you, knowmg that h1l! pos~1b1l1ty of marrymg depends on 1De. I have told him that if he ica1Ds your oonsent' he shall not marry a penmle s girl, for I shall give you the s ~me as I 11;1ve him. So you see, you may rely entirely on vour feelings m givmg your ans>< er; it will not be a case of marry· mg for money, but only for !eve, What do you 11ay '" Amy said nothmg. Shfl turned her eyes on Maitland, who persistently kept his averted, '·This is too sudden, uncle," pleaded Dex· ter. ··Perhaps it is," assented the old man. "I do not ask for a deo1e1ve answer now " Plead your own case, my lad, durmg the DfXt week, and then Amy shall give her reAmy tU1'lled her head. "There is no necessity to wait for a week," she said ; ·· my mind 1s quite made up. I can sever marry Mr Dexter," "My dear girl," persisted Mr. Fletcher, "do not make up your mmd so swiftly No doubt my pla.m way of putt1Dg thE11matter has patned you. I can see you are agitated Let me plead for my nephew. His love for you is d1~mterestea. Be knows you but as a oharmmg young lady who 1s at present ocoupymg a position unworthy of her He knows nothmg whatever of you beyond that , Judge then whether you llil'e treating him quite fairly m refusmg to listen to him. It is not so easy to find young men nowa· days, who are capable of d1splaymg ·uch dis· mterested earnestness and devot10n 1n seekmg a wife. He tells me he ts even 1gDorant of the name of your parents-does not that show he values you for yourself ?" Dexter has tried once or twrne to mter· rupt his uncle, but ID vain. However, he now managed to mterpose with · " Really, uncle, you appear to imagme that--" But he was mterrupted ID hlS turn bv Amy "Did Mr. Dexter tell you he did not know who my father was 2" she asked "Yes," replied Mr Fletcher, "and I av,· plauded the delicacy of feeling he showed. "I must tell you then that he did ask me and seemed very surprised to bear his name There seems to be some mystery about 1t, for its mention seems to have sufficed to turn Mr. Dexter from a casual acquatntance mto a.n ardent admirer." Dexter stood abashed ; he did not for a moment attempt to defend himself. "So, sil'," s.i.1d his uncle severely ; " it seems then that you do know who this you~g lady is. I haCl my su11p1c1!)ne, and that ia why I said what I have, thmkmg I could catch you m :fOUr own tr~p." ··I thought you would be pleased if I married htr," pleaded Dexter. "Don't say another word, sir. Leave us now ; come to my rooms this pvenmg and I shall have somethmg to say to you then." Dexter walked a.way as careleHly as he could. "Come a little closer to me, my dear child," aa1d Yr. Fletcher m a tender tone, as soon as his nephew was out of sight. "I have some news for you. You must think me a very strange old man- so I am, perhaps. You think I have been very rude and unkmd, but 1t was !or your sake, No one is, Dear us now. Put your arms a.round my neck and kis11 ~ anJ call me grandPJ"pa." Amy looked at him m astomshment for a moment, and then glanced at Maitland. His look reassured her; she flung her arms round the old man's fleck and kissed him. "Grandpa," she excla 1med; " is it true?" " Yes, my darlmg. Ah, 1f 1 had only known it before. It 1s your fault, Ma1t· land." "Are you quite sure f' he asked. " Well, no ; I suppose its chiefly mlDe. Do you thmk, Amy, you will be ab.le to love me for the few months I have to hve ?" "Oh, don't talk of dy1n~, grandpapa ; you musn't." "Ask Maitland." "What must I ask him ?" " lf he can apart: me a pa.rt of your a.Jfec· tion for a time. Ah, I know all about it, you see ; my eyes are not yet so dim but that I have seen more than either of you 1magme. Take her, Maitland." Maitland did not hesitate long, for Amy's glad look revealed to him that her grand· father had 3udged her truly.-.AU the Y ear Round. OUR YOUNG FOLKS. Sunrise-a Russian Folk-Story, R.ETOLD IN ENGLISH BY ELIZABETH ABER CRO.lllBil!, pcy ." Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife who owned a small but comfortable homestead-the house ID which they hved, a couple of stalls for tie cow.a, together with a cellar and a roomy shed m which to kt;ep their horses, sheep and cattle provided w1tll good, wholesome food; while a single week was never allowea to pass ID *h1ch they did not employ themselves either m enrich· mg the soil, plowing or sowmg, rea.pmg or mowmg, or gathermg ID the crops, e.och ac· cording to the proper season. Indeed, It was only ID comparison to the greater pos· sessions of their neighbors that their propertycould be called a small one. Toward the west, the country was all free and open, and many hti.1e homesteads very hke to them1 was dotted over the land here and there; but to the east there was nothmt? to be seen but a thwk forest There was no path leadiug IDW this great forest. No one ever th ,ugnt of enter111g it, even to g"ther up wood for burD1ng. The people collec·ed the wood for their tires from the thick growth of bushes and brambles which they found along the banks of the lakes or the brooks; and so 1t happened that the forest trees ha i grown quite matted to gether and had become very old, but iust how large the forest was, or JUSt what was its cond1t1on ms1de, nobody knew. One br1gllt day, the man and his wife were made very happy, for a child was born to them-a little daughter. "Now," they both 11a1d, "we must be more saving and more mdustnous tllan ever, for now we know for whom We are work mil', and who it is, m fact, that will have need of our As the child grew, she had very pleasant a.nd wmsome ways. You had only to look at her to feel your heart grow hght It did not matter to whom she stretched out her tmy band-whoever it migbt be, he was i..lways ready to do whatever she wished ; 1t did not matter whom she ran to meet, for that person wovld always gladly have walked Jar out of his way to se" her bright, sm1ltng face. So it was from her earliest baby days, and so 1t went on as she grew larger and larger Durmg the day each one of the man servants or maids who went to ancl fro about the house sought to get a. peep at the child. Somehow it seemed to them that the brightness of the day had not risen until it had been done. She was so entirely the darling of the household that her bapt1s· ma! name was almost forgotten, while with one consent she was called by all who knew her, "Little Sunrise." When Sunrise had grown to be qmte a large girl, her parents ea.id to each other : "Now, it is time that she should be learn· mg how to do some work, for what is the usti of property or prosperity if you haven't industry, and thti habit of taking care of property, and the ability to add something to 1t from time to time '" And a light task was accordingly given to the child From the first, however, sbe showed herself a very capable and wilh~ little girl about everything that was given her to do. She never seemed m the least over-tired by her work. On the contrary, she always finished everythmg a gree.t deal sooner even than. was expected of her, while 1t never once occurred that a mistake could be detected on account of the swiftness with which her nimble fingers completed their task. Whon Sunr1.se ha.cl grown older and her strength had mcreas~d so that it was DO longer necessary ior he!:, to wor.k JH!_ dp her mother's eye, but ehe.collld be allowed to JOlD m the work gomg on m the garden, meadows and fields, her presence brought much happiness to the other la.borers. ' Mmgled with this happmess, however, were certam other features that were far more pleas1Dg to Sunrise's father and moth er, for, go where aha would, somebody was sure to step up to the little girl and say . " Just you look at us, Sunrise, dear. You're our little mistress, you know, and we'll soon get your work done for you. " Then, while Sunrise was making a strug. gle to push aside the offered help, behold I somebody else would step m, and, before she llnew it, the i;:reater part of her work would be done, Her parents had no need of bemg disccn· tented with the labor t hat was completed after this fashion; for, whenever their child appeared, all lassitude or weariness seemed to vanish from among the servants, and as the evenmg of each day came around, mstead of fiudmg evidence of neglect, they found that double and three times the work had always been done, if Sunnse had been out ID t he fields. Still, as far as their little girl was concerned, so much devotion on the part of their hirelings was not according to their wish. " She will learn to be a perfect httle donothmg," they said, "and haughtmess and pride will creep mto her heart." .A httle later, when such thoughts came mto their mmds, others began to mingle with them "It IS not good always to be laughing and playmg," they murmured. " W ork pro· motes senousness. People who do things so qmckly and so easily are not the most capable after all, but those who exercise perseverance and self·control." And they began to repent of not ha.vmg earlier put a check upon such a child as thu·. "We ought never to have allowed her to be called l:lunnae," they ea.id, " l sn't it natural t hat she should thmk herself somethmg different from the rest of all man kmd " Then both the father and mother decided to make her hve as the common people did. "Now t hat you a.re a well grown g1d, it is high time that you were learnmg to work and to hve and to speak hke other people, and as suits our pos1t1on," they said. A nd with thlB, Sunrise's mother put a great mass of flax mto he{ daughter's hand, b1ddrng her go with 1t a.Lone mto the spm· mng room. and not to come back e.gam till it was all spun, It was a lready well on m the day, and the twilight not far off. In the big open fire place a bright fire was burmng. Just as the last ltngermg ray of daylight had vam sh ed from t he sky, a little mouse came runmng out ol h18 hole. Scampermg across the floor to the spmn1Dg·wheel, 1t sp.1ang up on the shoulder of the mdu&tnous little maiden, and said: "Sunrise give me somethmg to eat.' Then the little girl answered; " I would gladly give you somethmg to eat, mous1e, but I have noth1Dg, and I dare not fl.O out of this room to get you auythmg But if you'll eat a bit of this piece of tat t hat I have to grease my sp1nnmg·wheel with, you're very welcome to it, I'll make ~h1ft without 1t" 1'he mouse thanke? her and eat up the. fat. 'While it was still eating, there was a urowhng and a fumbling at the door, and m came a monstrous bear. Slowly he shambled and tramped across the floor tm he had come up to the apmmng·wheel. Then he looked straight at the little girl with bis great w'ld eyes, and said : workm~." ··-~---The Cause of seaaiokneu. J ust how the pitching and rolling of a ship acts on the human frame so ns to pn· duce the physical and mental prostration of seasickness is a matter of d;spute. A theory recently started by Dr. lrwm, an English phrs1c1an, attributes 1~ t o disturbance of the fluids m the sem1c1rcular canals of the ear. It 1s generally recovDlzed that 1rntii.tion of any kind m these passage~ produces nausea and vom1tmg. Dr. Chap.:nan, on the other hand, sees the mam proximate ca.use of this disorder m the presence of an undue amount of blood m the spmal nervous centres, whrcb. renders the nerves proceedmg from them active, with the result of d1 sturbmg the action of the organs- eapec1ally the stomach- whose movements they regulate. Another new writer on the subj ect, Dr. Carpenter, 1s mchned to attribute aeas1ckness~to the contmued action on the bram of a certam set of aensat10ns, more partteularly t hat of the want ot support. Nothing 1 s mor e disagreeable thau the feelmg consc quent on the sudden g1v1Dg way of a prop on which one 1a learnng,and t he riipetit10n of t h1d sensation every t ime t he vesse.l makes its downward movement 1a supposed to pro· duce the nervous derangement whwb ma.DI· fests itself m seaswkness Dr. Ellis writes to the L ancet that he found a complete remedy 1n car efully attend1Dg to the motion of the vessel and accompanymg~ID his mmd, even-lij. a slight stoopmg or press1Dg downward of the body t he amkmg down ot t he vessel's deck. Another rned10al con espondent states that he found r elief by watchmg t he motion of the vessel, and, as she Vias about to descend, makmg an effort as though to force her down T he Philadel· ph1a Oontinent says that thG a.pphcat1on of a tight belt round t he lower part of the abdomen mitigates the shocks to which, m a rough sea, the nervous system is subJect· ed. The late Dr. Geo. Beard's remedy was bromide of sodmm, taken three t imes a day a few days before embarktng, and kept up at sea till the danger IS past. T he London Queen reports a departure 1s the style ofsk1rts ot young ladies' ball gowns the hitherto md1Spenaable waterfall drapery bemg replaced by skirts of tulle and net ar· ranged ballet fashion m flounces of unequal length, which are trimmed with perpen· d1cular rows of satlD ribbon fastened hghtly upon them, producmg a pretty and novel effect. Prove yourselves grateful. A gratefu heart can never be a. wicked heart. - "Come, Sunri~e, I want you to play bhnd· man's buff with me." At this, Sunrise was terribly fn,ll(htened. " Oh, dear I" she thought, " if somebody would only help me to get away from th1a bear I If 11e touches me with those great claws of his, he will wound me terribly. " But, before Sunrise had fairly fimshed thmkrng this the mouse ran and perched itself on her shoulder on the side fart'1est from the bear, and whispered 10 her ear . " Don't ·be afraid, Sunrise Say to him, 'Oh, yes, we 1l have a i;:ame if you hke ;' then put the fire out on the hearth, and sit down to your ap1nnmg·wheel m tbe corner. While you a.re h1dd~n there, I'll run round the room m your place, rmging some little bells as I go, and the bear will tbmk all the time he 1s hearing those tmy round bells on your necklace t1nkhng " So the little girl said bravely, out loud : "Oh, yes, bear, w<>'ll have 111 game of blind-man's-buff if you like-very wdhngly, I'm sure. But first I must put this fire out on the hearth, lest you should see me, you know. ~o go away from me, hke a good bear, please, and wait till I am ready for the game " The bear tl en withdrew tu th~tber end of the room, while the little girl extmgu1sh· ed the fire, put the sptnnmg·wheel mto the corner, aD<l hid herself behmd it. ' Meanwhile, th-e httle mouse had begun to run around with his two t1Dy bello At the sound of these the bear immediately began to grope his way ID that d1rect1on. Away spraDg the mouse agam, and the bells sounded q mte at tht1 other end, of the room Agam the poor bear danced off after him, But the mouse had mmb le little le(ls, a.nu could make long JUmpa, whtle the bear, with his great, clumsy paws, shuffl.dd along but slowly, so that wherever he might go he always beard the bells tmkhng ID the op· pos1te dmict1on. Still, the mousie ran merrily on. Brum, however was gettmp more and more tired. Every now and then he would cty . · · I'll catch you ~et; I'll catch you yet, Sunrise l" But the hours went by, and the little bells seemed as far off from poor .Brum as ever Midmg'it had passed; the cocks were crowmg to tell people mornlD~ had come, and still the weary chase went on-the mouse was here, there, and everywhere , now makmi;: a bold, run under the bear, now taking a fiyrng leap right over his back Now the little bells sounded oa one side of the room ; an mstant later, far away on the other. It seemed to the hear as if they were rmging 1n all the four corners of the room at once. "Oh, ho 1 Sunrise, now I've caught you I" the bear would cry, spnnvmg off to the right. No sooner had he done so than away would fly mous1e with his hells to the left. At la.st, from such long and con· stant turnings, the bear began to grow dizzy. He staggered a.nd fell, pantmg with weariness. "Enough, enough, Sunr1ael" he cried. "I'll acknowledge you can beat me at blind-ma.n's· buff." Then the httle girl felt moveu with com· passion towards the tired bear, and came out of the corner to fan him with her. hand· kerchief. " Qh, woe 19 me l" said the bear with a sigh, "that doesn' t cool me a bit. You must take me out of my skin." " How can I take you out of your skm?" asked ~unriee. "Here, take hold ofth1s right paw," was theanswer. And scarcely had Sun.rise touched the long fur that w1111 as black as night when a great shinmg hght fell over them, both the maiden ..a.nd the bear, so that. hal{·blinded, they were forced to shut their eyes. But when, a moment afterward, Sunrise opened here again - behold I - whose hand was she hold mg' And who was 1t that was holding hers f " We are in our own castle," said the prinoe, who stood hefore her, hl8 fa.oe beam· ID'( all over with JO Y. "You have delivered me and disenchanted the wood. You will now rule over my lhngdom. Every day you shall drive out through the land tn mi golden coach, and you will lighten the hearts of all my people by your !-(lance, so that their toil a.nd labor will be turned m i o JOY and pleasure, and th~re will never be beard agarn a complamt of misery or a cry of distress. I have sent your father and mother, aa a oompenaation for the loss of you, a herd of horses and twelve wa.ggons of newly cut wheat." Sunrise now reigned by tho side of her young consort over the great kmgdom where formerly, to the ea.st of her father'.11 little homestea.d, had stood the dense, dark forest And as she drove each day through the country roads, she turned a little aside in order to visit the home of her childhood, and to greet as of old her father and mother and all who loved her bright, sweet face ' · A~d her father and mother were both ver{. happy over the good fortune that had befal en their daughter. But the first law that Sunrise beii:ged her husband to make after she went to help him r ule over his 'land, was that every cat ID the kmgdom should be obliged to wear a small bell t ied around its neck Dlght and day . ·'ls that because the cat s all play a.t bhnd man 's buffw1th the mice?" asked the pr1Dce, with a rogmsh smile, And when Sunrise had given her husband a lig ht nod of assent the pru:ice 1mmed1 ately ordered the law to b~enforced - St. N icholas Thought out by French Thinker. Women of the world never use harsh ex press1ons when condemnlDll( their rivals Like the savage, they burl elegant arrows, ornamented with feathers of purple and azure, but with poisoned po1Dts. Love i s alway a seeklDg after the unknown , The i;:reat art Ia to be impenetrable. When the mask falls the carmval ceases The women who raise only exclamat ion pomts in our heart are h ke Racine's trage· dies; too pA rfect. We hk.e best those VI ho raise pomts of mterrogat1011. Happmess is the best anodyne for the vio· lent pass10ns, For women, the enJoyments of the heart are t he all important thmas of h fe , for the most of men they are only a c::impensation Much mtercourse of m1Dd or society is not to be expected between two classes of a d1f· ferent education and fortune, but there is nothmg m our code of mora s or ID our re· bglon to Justify either one m treatmg the other with unkmdness or 1Dc1v1hty. True d1gmty has no need to stand on the defcn Sive. A person who has httle of this qual· 1ty will alwaye be most afraid to compro· mJSe it by vulgar assoc1at1ons; it is right to be econonucal of what we have httle. RATiaNA. The PlaKue of Ba.ts -.Row to set.Rtd of Them -eome ..:urtous Anec'aotes · Regarding These Pest.. A correspondent has kmdly favoured ult with the followmg remarks relative to the getting nd of rats. It 1s well known that when once rats h'ave obtained a firm tootmg m a private house, or in any other building, such as b rns, outhouses, eto , 1t 1 s a most difficult thmg to completely dislodge them, and they oontmue, sometimes m spite of all attempts to extermrnate them, to make frightful m. roads 1Dto domeatIC peace and happmess, and mto the luxuries and other t:&tablee stowed away In the larilers I came to my present rea1deDce ID 1875 It IR a very old but very comfortable house Soon after I had commenced arranging my furmture and oi.herw1se placrng my house ID order, I found to my 1Dtense d1sguet and annoyance, that t he place ~as mfested with rats. Nearly every room <1n the ground floor ga.vealarmmg indications of the presence of rats durIDg Hom" part of the d ..y Even the drawing room was at times a rat haunt. One eventng, as my servants were a1tt1ng com· fort11obly around the htcben·fire, out came three g1gant1c rats, Havm~ cart:tully look· ed round the kitchen, the vermtn came towards the fire ; and upon the servants movmg their cha.us, they scampered off, only t 0> return the next evtmng. One morning, when coming down stairs to breakfast, I found the baby's toy rabbit, made of rea~ rabbit skm, htera.lly torn to pieces, and the bits scattered all about the front starrcase· Neth1nir but a rat could have done this, a& the rabbit was perfect a few hours before, and the cats had been turned outside t he. hou·e for the mght. Dogs and cats were> quite unable to extermmate these pests. At last it became so se 1ous, that I thought l would try tar as awe:i.:per1ment. Rats are wonderfully clean ammala, and! tlley dlSlike tar more, perhaps, thau anytbIDg else : for 1f 1t once ~ets on their 3ack· :tfi..mlt to remove it. eta, they find it most d1 Now, I had heard it mentioned that pour. mg tar down at the ent rances of t heir holes. was a good remedy ; also placmg broken pieces of glass by their holes was anot!ier remedy But these remedies are not effec· t1ve. The rats may leave their old holes, and make fresh one~ m other parts of the house; they don't, however, leave the. premises for good I thong~ I would try another experiment. one I harl 11ot heard of before One even· mg I set a large wire cage rat t rap, attachmg mside a most seductive piece of stronl{ly smelhng cneese , and next mornmg I found, to my sa.tisfact10n, that I had succeeded iD trapping a very large rat, one of tile lar· gest I had ever seen, which, after I had besmeared with tar, I let loose rnto his favour. 1te run. The next 1ght I tned aJ?am, and succeeded in catchmg another equally big fellow, and served him ID the same manner. I could not follow these two tar-besmeared rats mto their numer ous runs, to see wha1' would happen ; but 1t ie reasonable to as· sume that they e1tber summoned together all the members of their oommun1ty, and by their crest fallen appearance gave their com· re.des silent md1cat1ons of the n;usfortune which had so suddenly befallen them ; or that they frightened their brethren away, for they one and all forsook the place and Oed, The experiment was eminently sue· cessful, From that day in 1875 till now, 1883, my house, ancient though 1t is, has been entirely free from rats ; and I believe that there is no remedy equal to this one, if you can catch your rat alive, They nevell' oome back to the house agau, , ln conclus1on, let me sa.v,_);never use p01son. This remea y 1s almost worse than the d1beai!le. 11 poison be Utied, you ~ ~ yourself m the same sorry phght a friend of mme once found himself ID ; he had to take up all his dmmg room floormg, on account oli a frightful odour 1ssumg therefrom, and found sixteen dead rats underneath. Be· sides, poison is dangerous lymg about ; it might be taken by tavour1te dovs or eats, Another correspondent sends us the fol· lowmg touchmg anecdote . We had been troubled with the compa.ny of a pair of fine large rats, and to our cost we know they took their refreshments on the premises. Their v1s1t having lasted a fortmght, we thought 1t adv1>a.ble to ta.k6 means to discontmue the acqua.mtaucesh1p. La.st Monday night we set two traps, thlDkmg to catch them bot h at once, as they had often been seen together, frequently p1lfermg off the same dish. We succeeded in cat ching them, but m a most unexpected manner. Tl)e male rat m the mornmg we found alive m the cage, bis better halt lying dead on the floor by t he side of the cage, evidently havmg died of grief. Not bemll, able to call to mind a similar case, I send this, thmkmg 1t may 1Dterest some of your readers. The followmg cunous anecdote bas been sent to us by a ~entleman res1dtng 10 the north of England "The other day," he says, "as I was strolling along the brook-111de, ta.Jung a quiet afternoon const1tut1onal, I noticed a dead dog m the middle of the brook, t he water runmnl('. down at the t ime not bemg nearly sufficient to cover it . There is no· tbm~ so unusual rn the sight of a half putrid carcase m either brook or pond as of itself t must t o attract attention, so I suppose 1 have heen some motion id;the mass that un· consc10usly struck the eye ; at any rate, while I was lookmg, an old rat left the rottmg carcase and made off down the \\ ater· course a.t a mp1cl rate, lookmg neither to right nor left. He seemed so thoroughly on bus1Dess, that I deternnned to upset the old follows arrangement, and see whither it would lead. Accordmgly, I cut off a hook· ~d thorn stick , made my way from stone t o atone to the dead dog, hauled him up high aud dry on to the bank under a bush and waited. 'l3carcely was 1;1,l l still agam, when the old rat returned, and in hlB tram came t wenty four more rats straight to the_spot wher e tile dog had been. H ad I known the constq uencP.s, it had been there still ; for no sooner did the poor old fellow find the trea· sure trove gone, than he set up a most pitc· ous scream, and darted up the brook hke an arrow. Varn his flight ; w1t hm twenty yards t he 1Dfunated v1Ct1ms of the seemmg deception had overtaken, slam, and eaten up the cruel tlece1ver I Undoubtedly he had told them of ihe magu1ficent feast awa1tmg them, and proffered to lead them to wheie it was." To h sten kindly is otten an iict ot the most delicate mter1or mortification, and help us very much to speak kmdly ourselves A sure meansofovercom1Dga d1shke winch we entertam for anyone 1s to do him a little k1Ddness every day ; and the way to over· come a dislike which anothel' may feel to· watd us 1s to sa.y some httle kind wo1d of h1in every day. A lawn-tellllls costume lately worn at an afternoon fete up the Huds.on was made of soft gray merveilleux embroidered across the fro.ut with scarlet poppies and blush roses and foliage. The hat was umque, bemg of gray s atm braid w1 t):i a po1Dted crown and a round, fiat brim, 'P:pon which were hand· pamted scarlet poppies and moss buds. A second very beautifi~l dress was of delicate viol et ve1lrng, with ~nmmmg of palest ~ pmk wild roses m poine applique. The hat worn wit h this v0°tume was a broad fia.t wth a llapp.ng bnm, c10wned with a long trailmg wreath of wild roses. For trimming hats and bonnets, for garden part1e' and other d1 essy occasions, m1llmers are usmg Turkish muslm embro1der1es, p1Dks, greens., blues and whites, with gold 1md stlver tmsel. ·