"v, F081 Y YEARS AGO. firth u were very plain and burial w- hen Ito (unknown. Tombstones had larger epitaph: am: mor; van-nit, engraved upon them. lg .s It." 2 a liltillng a dozen, and but- ter 3' L1 to mi iered high at. eighteen cents pe. p um i. ll rCIi of the silva currency. dips. leri s. anl d :llan was of .‘Iexrmn and Spanish coinage. The country retail trade was much bet- fut, as people culd not so early run to the c.ty oy iaiL Business letters were more voluminous anl formal, and Wen: written in a precise, hand hand. There was Sew York currency, eight shillings to the dollar, and New England currency, six slidiings to the dollar. The diet was more culmhzirged with gmaw, the winter llbflkIBHZ usually being; made of salted barn and hot cakes. Dion r was sinply a hasty lunch at no -H. and little nripirzance was attached t l the new salty Int go ni dig~ stiun or a. inzriud of rest after ea'irig. lire «I Was h one mule. Coffee was freely ground every innrning, and the g incbn4 of the family coffee-mill was a Loni iar sound hours before the children or .s l. . Sign; in pszreisy wasjust cropping our. in 1h,- traveiling tire-us. 'Ihere Were gen- erally but two performers, who assumed male and feznrile charact. 11!. The popular mainly was “Jump Jilll Crow." I’copierlid not live as long as they now d -, nor Wits the average health as good as it is at. pies -nt. They ate more meat, more greoie, more hot. bread, and more heavy dishes, and drank more at meals. At. funerals the undertaker c icl with the moi.rn~r.-i, the flow of teaisbeing pro- INII'II'. nl'tï¬ to the cxpunse of the funeral. roan; cough-s cl midi-red its privilege to air up all night with the corpse before i lil'tnl. THINGS USEFUL, Sand-piper will whiten ivory knife- handles Lb it haVe become yellow with use or age. .\ ny iron or copper wire, or copper-c iat- o-t iroipwire, will “HAH'UI’ for telcpfioirc one~tha larger the better. The density of the now stand ud pound wtr-ght of platinum made by order of the Il~ar.l of Trade is 21'3837, tho air being at a mean terriperarurc of 12"]? 3 0., and the water in which it Was Weighed first 3. For cementing rubber or gutta-pcrcha to metal Mr. Moritz (lrossman giver the following recipe â€"â€"I’ulverised shellac, dis- solved in ten turns its Weight of pure amâ€". monin. In three drys the mixture will of the required consistency. The am- monia. penetrates the rubber, and enables the shellac to take a firm hold ; but, as it t Vrlllttl'lblcd in time, the rubber is immov- ably firsteliul to the metal, and neither gas nor iiater will remove it. Stones for grinding cutlery vary in diameter from four inches to two feet. The facts of some. as of those for grand- ing riz-vri, il‘L‘ convex. ’I‘iiose for (lry grinding, an operation very detremental to iii-.rIrh, have a flux above, through Wilbll the small particles of stouo and metal nio driven by air air-blast. The angles formed by the faces the hardness of the material to be oper- and upon. Tour the razor has an angle of from IT : to 20 3 ; wood-cutting tools 2.3 3 to 4?» 3 ; tools for iron and steel, iii) : IHTU 3 . -. »--..â€"-o.-â€"â€"-â€"â€" The (lrlgin of Rain. Various tiienri- s have been advanced to account for the formation if raindrops, lni' the most satisfactory ixplination is that proposed by Professor Osborne iley- nolds. The minute pirticlcs of which clouds aro comp iscd are moving dowii< wards in consequence of the attraction of gririry ; but by reason of the risistiurco which the air offers to their descent, they are only moving very slowly. Since, however, the resistance offered to the passage of huge drops is much smaller in proportion to their weight than that of- l‘l'l'lI to tilll'tli drops, it. follows flint. the large drops iiid dc ccnd fastcr than tlro MILiIIt-l‘ ones, and Will overtake them, coining into vulis'on with any which are in the d.re t lino! f their descent. When two uI'I pa in hide they will unite to form ii Logic drop, which will descend with Illifl‘vnnul velocity, nWm'pillL’ up all rmall- r r drops in tlr‘ pub. and rims linen-using in six: until It changes from the cloud. Sim-o many clouds lu'u seicizd miles in rim-kn. its. it is ca y to st-o that a particle dew» irdn g in in the I ppcr part of the ct. ui may Itl'tllllltl a rain drop of Cr nsid- vrai-‘e hillc before it emerges from the clad. in their [maul-go from the cloud in the eaixii the llll‘gtl' raindrops will overtake the small ones in a precisely st.rill.ir w..y. .\t the sane time the size of the dzupi may in: slightly increased by the i-oinit-risiiiou of water from the air through which they are falling. or may b4 slightly diminished by partial evapora- tion from the so face of tin drops. A f-tillll; raindrop decerids with a velocity whit-3i incrtases until the acceleration is b danced by the l‘csinlnllcu of the air, after wiizcli the drop ilesc-rrids with uniform \‘i‘lot‘ l_\‘. It. is, of course, Well known that. largo clouds uiiy exist without any run faith-z tromttiem. min ls actually fc ruled but. evaporates and It a; tin converted i'itovnpor lnforo it can I“‘;|.'I| .h†ground ; in many cases the uoni'nrrrmiimmt' rain is lumibiy due to Illl‘ fun: that under certain unknown at- Illi'siiilull.‘ or othermndrtivns the parti- clm forming the clouds do not. unite when they collide. As anagunt of gtmlogrcal change, ra‘n I! of the grca'mt impor- t.u.cti. It plays a large part iu the d sin- tcgriticn oi rocks And the formation of suds, “Mind tho D‘Ihlilll' luriiclcs into streams and tin-is, Ll'nI is, in fact, one of he must iizp-rtatit of the turf-H.†dcnuil~ rag agents. Indeed, since rain is the ul- Iliiislv source {u'a‘tl Irl iirlt‘ I‘rnvks, river, .\':., it may bu uiJ to In the principal agent of g “It'alc l change on til-r earths s rr...c.~. The amount of the rainfall var- res vt-iy wi-uicrablu ni ddfun-n? coun- tries. and in duhrent parts of tin same country, d: pending on gnu-graphical posi- li In. tho cxmfrmiution of the u-faco of the ground. the pr-d-mitv of large lake: uni Lin “a, dc. The huviust annual hit of that" oicurv in the zone of calm: over the equatorial ng‘ou of the Atlantic and I'..c t.c “Cairns, and on the test must: of ratâ€" liniish Ia’a, IlllIIt. Sonny. North and South Aux-vita, and New zoo“). in .ii on... Lumr them. at. west \vuil (do-a over a lazy: tract of occsn and Imuu-ur Iv-aviiy charged Itlh moist-u“ Ithi It d-‘p ul-‘J when forced upwards by the rum. oI t’ie mountaml on the «wt» The driest districts of the lurid at» tho do... rt whim" of Atria and Arts. The amount of mu Ibk‘h I‘II‘ in ungln l-Ilvl'cil is .- mctruml enormous, especially in th.‘ “l‘roprta. In the British Inc: NW of the brat ell falls on mun] u a fall cl 5.35 fin-tics in twenty-four hours in Monmoutluhiw, July H, I875. On of the. cutting tools increase in proportion to' In some eiscs’ i g , l i l l --~....~_....,~ i (‘llAI 'i'EIt X X\'.-â€"(Co.\'rr.\i to.) l â€fieâ€"Lord dc Uret'o;-.»-~â€"di-l tint spark until We reached the coitrgr,†Nora said, fin a low frightened vorci . as though the sound of her own words alarmed hrr; .“and then â€"â€"I caliiiul tell you: is war ‘drcadfuIâ€"it set-med as tii- ug'i some de- imon took iwssession or him. Ile pushed i me into a chair, and hicmd m‘cr III-f, With i his eyes,â€"he had ru -Ii wrange eyes Arthur! â€"â€" sunk fir buck iii iris ' head, but very bright ; and how they iblaZed as though a tire burned beneath his ilieavy Iii‘s, On, I see thrln soof.en iii ' my dreamsâ€"I can See them now !" She paused, with a strong shudder and u look of deadly tenor. ISuatiro critreaty of Arthur's face was more potent even i than the old haunting fear. Conquering . the tremor, she went on bravelyâ€"â€" l “IIetoiume that. Iliad dcceLVed and en- , trapped him-«I, who would have died far ' more gladly than marry luluâ€"that l was a fa'im wife-qr woman he could never trust twain. At tit-st. l tried to answer Iiim ; but he would not heir me. He cut my explanation short with that bitter little laugh of his, tin-l went on and on, in a cold, smooth, merciless voice, saying the cruellest things iii the quietizst tash~ Hun, tzll at. last I really ceased to under- } stand him. His Word» seemed to bruise land hurt my brain like so many blows, , but not to convey to it any coherent. idea. Isuppose lru sort this, for lie suddenly bent forward, seized me by the shoulder, and shook me, bringing his f‘lCU so close ‘1 to mine that I could not keep back a l startled cry. ; " ‘You are hysterical, my lady, worn out and exhausted by the fiiiigucs and ex- citemcrris of the day,’ he said, with grim, hurribiemockery. ‘Your maid shall show you to your rourrr. inyour present state id excitt merit you had better keep it for the remainder of the cveniug.’ l "‘I understand; I am aprisoncr,' I said slowly. ‘ ‘ “ ‘By no incans,’ he answered, wrtlr an angry snarl. ‘We Will not shock the ser- vants with a key ; you are indis usedâ€"a ï¬tting subject for strong tca an sill-vol- avile, as your maid will reading believe. You are by Iit) means a prisonerâ€"~oniy understandâ€"his hand closed again in a cruel grip upon my shoulder, and again ' my heart died within me in a chill dead- ly fearâ€"«‘only understand that. Isball be on go lI‘tI the whole evening in this room, So, if you have a fancy for any more stolen meetings with your lovcrâ€"â€"â€"â€"' “In spite of tho craven fear that par- alyzed rue, Arthur, I broke in then ; the insult was too cruel, the wrong too great for even cowardice to bear. “ ‘1 met Mr. Bcauprc by accident, and we have parted for ever,’ I began ; but he cut. me savagely short. ’ “ "I‘iint Ii niv businessâ€"I will see to that] he said, in a low grating voice that was in itself a threat. ‘With both of you SI have a long account to settle; but not ' nowâ€"not. new.†“Arthur, to this day I cannot tell what impulse moved me in that moment to do the last thing I should ever have thought of doing a second or so before. Until their I had hated him as a slave hates it hard and cruel master to whom in is hopelessly consigned. IIis look had never been more threatening, his words more cruel~and yet all in a moment a flood of light seemed to rush upon me. I saw things by its clear lustre no longer from my point of view, but from hisâ€"saw that lie had wrong to complain of and disappointments to endure, that, where Ire trusted, he hadâ€"though, Heaven knows, most innocently-«been deceived. The impulse was like a revelation ; I obi-yeti it as uniiosiuitiirgly. " ‘I.ord d‘ Gretton,’ I said humbly, ‘try to belive me, try to forgive. -- _--.:iii.las. But he snatched siviy is run 'ficcd themselves to meâ€"me, whom they though my fingers burned him, his eyes shone with their evil glitter, h‘.s voice literally trembled with passion, as he said between his teethâ€"â€" “ ‘Nevt-r, so -Ir rig as we may live! I never trust a traitress ; and, if you wish to know how I forgive the women who have wronged me, ask Lady Olivia Illake.y "They were the last Words he ever spoke to inc, Arthur. No woudrr that they linger in my mind. I hardly under. stood them their ; but afterwards, when all things were confused and misty in my thoughts, those Words rang in my cars iri- cessaull'v." She paused again, her hands tightly locked, her eyes giziiig into the deepen- ing shadows of the night with a strained and p'inful intensity. Arthur did not dare to speak, to hasten in any way the disclosure that was so slow to come. “The hours scorned iongâ€" horribly long, Arthurâ€"and yet I must have pass- ed them in a sort of trance. Long after my in tad had left me for the night. I sat by the open window. thinking, thinkln in a hum of misery, till I fell into a dul heavy sleep â€a sleep that. left me no con- ociousnc s of an present surroundinns~ only an abiding sense of pain and car. And, sh In I aiept, Arthur. I dreamed ii dnaaiâ€" s.c'i ii strangely vivid. dreadful dream that I woke from it trembling from Lord to fool, and with great drops of perâ€" spir ti n on my forehead. I thoughtt at, whxlu Lori d.» tircttnn est writinr' in the m-un bclmv, with his heart full ofbitter- no a and anger. :i shadow clinic nearer and nearer mini I knew that it came to do him harm. I am its outline clearly in the Il-Jollli' hr, tall, black, and slender, n gnu-iii woman's shape. The face was hidden , but I caught the g‘ilter of fierce eyes. and in tin- small white hand another gilllul' that undo my heart stand still. I rr.ul to scream. to warn the man, who newt miuxl his hm i, of the dreadful thing that drew nearer every moment: but horror hal paralyzed my evorv facul- tv. I Could not stir or cry. I heard a sharp cry uI pain, aclvar and cruel laugh, the sound of twining \oiccs, and a heavy fall. Thur the spell that held me seemed suddenly to map, and in an agony of fer- ror lâ€"awoke 3 â€So it. but been but :i dream after all i I “3 still in the \‘cli‘ct chair by the open I‘Iannh‘. Stillman perfect and intense reigned arc rind. Far up in the clear blue of the hmvcm the moon shone with full brightucn. making each husk and corner of the garden distinctly visible; from terrace to tumor the lovely light passed down, till it lingered on the placid splen- dour of the sea-arid, look where I U .iubvu, 3‘5. “'5’! "" "'I::“‘-d‘. “Him. ..T- :1?“ dream wk '[féj‘ré-ï¬-ii'xnmh . NM 30-“ “â€6“" ' roux: [yie‘ud‘u- Cl'l’lnl'f‘l AND‘i-t‘ltlllll. FENELON ï¬nd how intense was my feeling of reiiief, how strong a hold the vanished vision had had upon rue. It was long before I could control the wild throbbing of my heart, or regain anything like composure; but it came at last; and, worn out and exhausted, I once more dozed off, to be once more roused by a long moan of pain. "This time, however, the sound did not cease with my slumber, as I sat, cold and shaking, in the chill gray morning light. I heard it again, and yet againâ€" a sound to freeze the blood in your veins, is sound like the moan of a wounded sni- p0 . - fully pinched, sndtiun, andsallow, should trial too Weak to cry aloud. “Almost mechanically, conscious in an unconscious way that that piteous sound had reached no car but urine, I rose to my feet, and, obeying some im- pulse beyond my own control, descended the stairs and entered the little room in which Lord de Gretton had told me he should be ‘ori guard.’ I found Oil, Arthur, is it any wonder that the sight I looked on drove me mad ’1" She broke down in a passion of hysteri- cal tears ; Arthur .let her cry, restraining his iur iatience by a giant effort for her sake. In such tests lay the best medicine for the overwrought nerves and overtaxcd bmiu. He held one hand within his own string clasp, in firm assurance of his sym- pathy; but. It was not till the sobs had died away, and the girl tried to smile gratefully through her tears, that he spoke at allâ€"then he said gentlyâ€" “Du not dwell on details that distress you, but finish the story, like my own brave girl. You found Lord do Gretton â€"â€"ile:id I" “Not dead, but dying,†she said in a. low shaking voice. “He still lived when I knelt beside him, but that was all. The blood ran like a river round him ; it was on my dress, my handsâ€"everywhere ; and his face was whiteâ€"oh, so horribly white 2 I should have thought him dead but for the dreadful glitter of his eyes and that broken cryâ€"it was faint as the faintest whisper. Then I tried to raise his head, to cry aloud; but my voice failed, and he motioned me back. He tried to move, to speak, failed, and closed his eyesâ€"tried again, and, by a supreme effort, jerked out one wordâ€"the word that had been the haunting key-note to my dreamâ€"‘Olivia ;' and so, with a brief eunvulsive struggle, he died.†“And you i" ArtlriirBenuprc asked, in tones of infinite compasa'on, as he laid his hand on the (IUWIIvbellb head, and thanked Heaven in his inmost heart that even this ray of light, faint and uncertain as it was, had pierced the darkness of the night and given promise of the dawn at hand. "Iâ€â€"â€"tlie sweet voice was sharpened by keen pain, the sweet uplifted eyes were filled with sclfâ€"roproaclrful lightâ€"“I was not bravo, Arthur ; I was not what you called me. I dropped like a. dead thing by Lord dc Gretton's side, and, when I awoke, it was broad day. It was too late to summon help, too late for anything. I think I went mad in that moment, Ar- thur l The sight of the rigid motionless ï¬gure, of the blood that lay around me, that stiffened on my dress, my hands, my feet, the hopelessness of my own future, a craven fear of the life that seemed so incomprelierisibly cruelâ€"~31! seemed to stir me to a sudden frenzy, and bid me take my fate in my own hands. I forgot all these things â€"conscience, religion, dutyâ€"rill but the sweet and easy death that. awaited me there at the cliffs foot ; and, like a thin possessed, I rushed ~to meet it. You now tlierest,†she ssrd, with a strained sob. “Heaven sent. my better angel, Nettie, to my rescue ; and for all the months that followul I re- membered little moreâ€"-nothin but the absolute devotion with which ance and she have watched, and tended, and sacri- thought a murdeross !" . The shadows had gathered unnoticed round the young pair as they sat absorb- ed in their own conversation; only the faint moonlight and the nncertarn. glim- mat of the lamp across the street lighted the room now. Art-bur stood by the win- dow, looking out abstractcdly, his whole thou ht en rossed by the story he had hear . Su donly he turned to Noraâ€" who, lost In ii sinful reverie, sat by the tableâ€"and spo o quickly, with a nervous jar in his voice- . “Nora, dearest, go away for ti little while to your room. A lady has Just come into the house, and I thinkâ€"I fear â€"â€" Go, dearest, to lease me i" A little surprised, ugunqucstioniugly obedient, Nora rose at once and moved towards the door ; it opened in her face, and disclosed Cristine Singleton 2 Nora recognized her step-sister at once; but Cristine, whose veil of spotted not Confused her vision, and whose eyes were not trained to the dusk, naturally con- cluded that the slander form was that of Mrs. Vance Singleton. “My dear sister," she cried, with out- stretched hand, and her most. fascinating smile, “I have come, in spite of Vancc‘s rohibition, to make acquaintance with 'iince'ii wife. I know we shall love each other dearly." She bent her fair head with the words, prepared to imprint the kiss that is the absolutely necessary seal of friendships feminine. Nora drew aside instinctively; the one clear line of light fell straight across the fair proud face, deï¬ning it with startling effect against the blackness of the surrounding shadows Cristinc grew absolutely livid gs cry rose to her lips, but it found no utterance. Recognition was instantaneous, and“ in- stantaneous was the paralysing terror that seemed turning her to stone. "Nor-a," she cried at last, in a. hoarse broken voiceâ€"“Norsâ€"crâ€"orâ€"" She paused, trembliu from head to foot, oppressed with 0 horror of a supernatural [menu ; then, u Nora neither moved nor spoke, she fell sudden- ly upon her knees, upraiaing both hands, with an exceedin bitter cryâ€"â€" “Forgive me, 'ora. cruel u I was I" “limb 2" Non laid, with a grave sweetness that seemed half angelic to tho conscience-stricken woman and the listen- ing man. “It is for me to far you now, Cristina; I am not dead, and you can give me up to justice with a word." CHAPTER XXVI. Lad Olivia Blake at in the tiny lux- l but rather caught uriouaIy :iutimacy, he lsugm malnudx' ans“ nan‘w'uWr Itmhnly twilig‘ hH_rwy glow cull. {varnished nut the called her W.WWâ€" .â€" FALLS, ONTARIO, SATURDAY, APRIL “I sank back inmy chair, ashamed to lingered in the western sky; but her iadyship's curtains were all drawn, and the light of a dozen wax candles not be- ing considered enough to illuminate the small room, a large moderator lamp upon a centre-table diffused a bright radiance ar:und. Light was a craze with Lady Olivia; the sun could never blaze too fully into every corner of her house ; and, when the sun retired, she could not sup- ply his placo with too many lights. Naturally her elder feminine friends wondered among themselves that “dear t llivis, with whom complexion was never a strong point,†and who, since her disap~ intment, had grown quite too dread- csre to throw such astrong revealing light upon her fading charms ; and one especi- ally intimate individual, who felt that such an absurd illumination was a wrong to her elaborate “make-up," ventured to mmonstratc with her on the subject. “I love the dark because my deeds are evil perhaps,†she said, with s deprecat- iiig smile ; “but, though your conscience may be clear, my dear Olivia, you should have some mercy on your visitors' corn- plexions." “The sun that comes here will not scorch them," was the short and barely courteous answer. “Scorch them ! No ; but"â€"ivith a little shoulder-shrug and prettily affected laughâ€"“though you disdain them, there are secrets of the toilette, you know.†Lady Olivia regarded her friend, a. fair faded woman about her own age, but dressed in ultra-girlish fashion, with a sort of civil sneer upon her thin scarlet lips, but a savage and apparently uncall- cd-for anger in her great dark eyes. “Such secrets will not hang you, even if they are found out," she said, so brusquely that the offended lady rose to take her departure. “I am sorry to an- noy you, Harriet; but I cannot live in total darkness, even in deference to ‘rouge’ and ‘bianc dc perio.’ †Naturally the indignant lady did not repeat her warning or her visit. Naturâ€" ally, also, the story of “Lady Olivia's odd rudeness, and very unpleasant whim" spread about, and other ladies, whose compiexioris were not impeccable, or who had a nervous dread of eccentricity, ceas- ed to call at the little house in Mayfair, which had been so pleasant a. rendezvous in other days. Little by little old friends fell off and old acquaintances dropped away. It seemed as though a curse had fallen on the handsome Spanish-looking woman with the dark passionate face and haunting eyesâ€"who, seen in every crowd, was always seen alone. And, next to being hi darkness, to be alone was the thing that Lady Olivia Blake most hated in the world. She was a proud woman, and had hitherto been a markedly exclusive one, closing lrer doors rigidly to thongg'†‘vgxere not of her own social aways." 'f‘er meritorious, or fascinating. ‘ â€urar‘they might be. But now,‘di her‘ pitiful yearning for hu- man companionship, she seemed to lose all pride and cxclusivencss. to threw her doors widely open to all who would enter within them. But even this sudden relaxation did not i satisfy her craven desire to escape from herself, IlCl‘ eagerness for society at any price. Pushing parvcnucs, who were at ï¬rst flattered by the warmth of Lady Olivia's welcome, and rather disposed to plume themselves on the acquisition of so distinguished a friend, Were not slow to discover that there was but a small amount of honor and glory to be got mix- , ing in the motley mob that the eccentric lady gathered round her. And, when i they discovered also that for this more' than- doubtful privilege they were requir- ed to pay the price of absolute submission to all the capriccs of a passionate ungov- i emcd nature and a despotic will, they too i found the game not worth the candle and fell away. So it came to pass that, just at the time , of Cristine Singleton‘s return to England, Lady Olivia had taken to haunting tho- atros, concerts, exhibitionsâ€"whatsoever, places were crowded and well lit. That' was all that mattered to her apparently. She never cared whether the entertain- ruene offered were good or bad. The great haggard eyes, with their unclnin - ing look of mingled scorn and pain, 3e - drim rested on stage or picture, and never with the least pretence of interest. Baron Benjuda, who, in his two years absence from London society, had fallen a little behind the gossip of the times, i had hastened at sight of her to renew an intimacy that had hitherto been of the slightest character. A bow and a few civily-spoken words were as much as he expected the proud lady to accord him ; but to his amazement, he received the welcome of an old and much-prized ; friend. Lady Olivia seemed as though she could not bear to art. with him ; and, when at last he tore imself away from the flatter- ing eagerness of her questions as to his life abroad and the probability of his again leaving England for so long a riod, he found himself pledged to visit ier next day. He was too shrewd a man not to surmise some reason for this sud- den and startling change’ol mannerâ€"too much a man not. to be subtiiely flattered by it, sus icious though it was. “Can she want to borrow money i" he speculated sniuscdly, as he saunter-ed back to Cristine; but he soon dismissed that idea as improbable. He knew all about Lady Olivia Blake, M he know all about most people. Her jointure was small, but she lived well within her income, and would be the last person in the world to sacriï¬ce her pride for pecuniary beip. “ Veil, she is a mystery ; but. what wo- man is not i" he added, dismissing the subject with a well-pleased shrug of hisl expansive shoulders. “She has fallen cfl' awfully in her looks. Never saw a wo- man so changed in all my life ! The Spanish blood tells when you get into the thirties. I suppose ; and of course aha felt De Gretton'n death. Still, in every- thing but beauty, she instantly itn raved. I shall certainly cultivate herâ€" or the‘ r Ilka of Cristina." i .. And cultivate her he did, then b much at first against Cristine'l will. e was a little startled certainly when he learned that his fair betrothed was the at ' r, of that unhappy Lady dc Grit-tum whose; trail; story he knew but. in imperfect on ‘ e ; but, when he found that Lady i the 10, 1884 desirable. Of course the wretched girl was really no relation of yours, and you were in no way mixed up in her affairs. Why, Cris, what a ghost you look 1" “I cannot bear foâ€"to talk of that time 1" {altered Cristinc. “Then you shall notfaik of it," the . ton’s cousin makes the friendship more ‘ \5 NO 8. ll! tDAGASC-A ll A Country â€Gigantic WIN! A nimus. Pot- sonons Sp‘dars and Barbsrcus Pot-pic. “ How did you like the country l" ask. ed a Cincinnati Enquirer reporter, of a sailor just from Mada, ' . gascsr. “ Like it 1 Why, there isn’t a redeem- Baron said, pinching the pale cheek an lugfwtuw about“. Whv. it was cnvugh the color mine. “Tqu of your wedding- dress, or Lady Olivia Blake 1" So the two women drifted together have 3'39" 8W“t 11031†0f small to sicken one to see what: the people eat, there. In the market at Tamatiiva I locusts again, and Lady Olivia Blakeâ€"who, in dried and cxposcd for sale. They were the old days, had been barely conscious about half roasted, and made me sick to of Miss Singleton‘s existenceâ€"now took look at them, There are no roadsâ€"~barcly the oddest fancy to,lier, and secured hard- brrdie~pathsâ€"through “*0 “‘WIS‘ “lid iy happy when out of her sight. Even travel is accomplished on foot or in the Baron, who at ï¬rst watched the grow- paianuinsâ€"Ioug bamboo lmks b01310 0“ ing friendship with much complacency, the shoulders of natives. The. interior of grew at last alittle jealous of the fre- the country is filled with dense fort-sis, quency with which 5 “It is all very ic claimed Cristiire. and during â€â€˜0 _ well in its “3’.qu quantities of decaying vegetable matter rainy seasons grcat grumbled ; “but; I never get you to m ._ .src brought down. There is a great deal 59†for an hour now. Lady Olivia is of lake and mm‘sh on the coast and plains here, or you are at Lady Olivia's. boardornig on the sca, and these give rise Honestly, Cristina, do you not. gets little to tire Malagasy fever. The only remedies tired of her indyship, linndgume and the natives use are hot baths and herbs, agreeable as she is i" which induce perspiration. Quiniiio is “Not tired,†the girl said with a little i also used in large quantities. You can shudder, “butâ€"â€"â€"-but, Isn‘el’ at timesâ€"I l Judge of the unlicaitlriucss of the country, am afraid.†“Afraid i" Benjuda turned her round, laying a weighty hand on either shoulder, and lookirg amusedly into the strangely troubled face. “Why, you nervous goose, what harm do you think she will do you i" _ “I think at timerâ€"sire is mad," Cristina said slowly. “By George, I should not wonder 3†The Baron released his captive, and nod- ded two or threcltimes, as confirmatory circumstances rubbed into his mind. “That is the key to the riddle, is it 2" He stood thoughtfully considering the matter for a few minutes, then turned with startled fondness to Cristinc. “My darling,†he said, throwing one arm round the slender waist, and drawing the fair head down upon his shoulder, “I have been wrong to let you run so great a risk ; you shall not stay in Green Street again.“ There was real emotion in the full voice, real tenderness in the dark licavy- lidded eyes. After all, it is not necessary tobo young, handsome, or aristocratic to feel genuinely, and even rrobly ; and the fat. elderly Baron was as deeply stirred by the thought of peril to his betrothed as the most of romantic lovers could have been. , e That Cristinc was touched by his un- feigned concern was evident. She had won much admiration, but hitherto little love had fallen to her lot ; and site found, much to her own surprise, that she was beginning to attach an odd value to it. She had not yet reached the point; of re- turning itâ€"thc small amount of honest affection she had to bestow she had given unriskcd to Arthur Beaupre, and that love, flung back upon itself, had turned to gall and poisoned her whole nature ; but she had grown to feel that, if Bcnjuda‘s trust in her were withdrawn, and her bctrotlial broken, silo would lose more, far more than the rank and wealth that had been his sole attract-ions when she first sought to win him. (To rm courixusn . â€"â€"_â€"s0 A (‘iroir Anecdote In the April Century, the Rev. Dr. Charles S. Robinson continues his dis- cussion of the annoyances and humors of musical service in churches, and re- lates this anecdote. “Glorious Easter was at hand, and great preparations were made in the rural parish, for its cciebration;boughs were twincd in the arches of the building; flowers swung rn wreaths overhead, and shone in beautiful baskets among the uislcs;cliildren had been rehearsing car- ols. All the town came in on that not- able morning. It wasa scene never to be forgotten. The minister was radiant ; his eyes beamed with delight. But a thought struck him i This audience, so happy, so generous, so enthusiastic-â€" would they not hear him a moment for a stroke of business 1 After the invocation and the first song, be surprised them with a. proposition to bring ‘Eastcr oli'erings' now and at once to God's altar, and lift the dear old ciiurclr out of debt; oh, then there would be a resurrection: Tire con~ gregation would come up from under its great stone in a new life, if they would roll it away! Then the plates went their course, and hearts were rut-lied, and the heaps of money lay before the moist- ened eyes of the rclicvcd pastor, as he tremulously thanked a good God for his people’s fidelity in response, “ ‘The money is here, I am sure it is,’ he exclaimed. ‘lf there be a little in arrears, it can be made up in a day; and now we are ready, heartily to go on with the worship of our risen Lord.’ “So the fixed pro rammc proceeded. A little German had )ccn procured from the metropolis for an annex to the tenor; his solo came in at this exact crisis of grateful emotion ; be rendered it with a fresh uplomb, though tire consonants were Iwkward: “ ‘An’ do (let sail be raisedâ€"~de dot still be raisedâ€"nn' do delâ€"nn’ dc (IrIâ€"â€"s:ill be raisedâ€"sail be raisedâ€"in dc twinkling of an ay-ce!" “Now it is quite safe to say that after the congregation went home, the theme of the day was dissipated, and the two events uppermost in every biidy's mind were the surprise which the eager minis- ter had sprung upon the people, and the ridiculous appropriateness of the dcciama' tory solo which followed it. (in general principles, we have no objection to the collection of money to discharge religious obligation, even in (brine service; but it does seem a pity that a humorous episode should be the chief reminiscence of such a solemn occasion." Use the temporal; desire the eternal. Gold powder for bronziug is made by grinding gold-leaf with honey, and wash- mg the mixture to obtain the gold by de- 'tion, the honey-water being decanted. mum gold is yellow alloy leaf similarly treated. Laura Johnson, at Milwaukee girl, be- came so indignant on reading a letter from her betrothed, in which he express- 0d the delin? to .â€" ing a hatchet near by. she u l for the French, who for years have ll'ICiI to establish colonies there, called it “ the churchyard," and the Dutch, who were equally unsuccessful, named it the ‘ dead island." ’ 2: Do many wild animals abound there :" The woods are full of tiicm ; vicious, venomous serpents of extraordinary raise. Not snakes but huge serpentsâ€"~bodies as big as s man’s, and thirty or forty ft-utl long ; powerful enough to kill a horse or swallow an ex. They hang down from the limbs in the forests, and snatch up the natives going along, and making a breakfast of one with as much IIIICUIIL‘t‘I‘Il as a fly taps a sugar-cork. Near Andamka llIeriarana, is ll. dccp ‘c;_ive called the Serpent 3 Hole," and it is so full of them that they frequently drive the villagers all indoors. “Then they have a sort of monkcv, there, called the ‘aye-ayc.’ It has ICL‘CIII like ti. chisel, and a claw with a prong, or book to it. It lives 01) bugs that it‘digs out of the trees. And their the rivers swarm with crocodiles, the biggest I ever saw. These the natives ivorsiiip as water gods, and are superstitious about killing them. They try to propitiatc the creatures by prayers, and throwing in charms of odys, but. their virtue is caving to the noise and shouting and beating the water with which the offering of the oily is always accompanied. Why, these animals cat up all the sheep and hugs, and even larger cattle that come anywhere near the banks; and they don’t refuse women and children, who venture near. At. llasy. \iirich is a line lake, sixty miles west. of the cipitrrl, the people believe that if a crocodile be killed a human life will, within a very short time, be exacted by the inonstcr‘s brother relatives, as an atoument for the . death. thri I was there sonic French- men shot several, and they had to leave the country at once, or the people Would have murdered them. , “ Tire earth has wild cats, the air wild W ‘----â€"â€"-â€"-â€"_ ._...- FASHION “Hills: Therearo “no rules of fashion" this season. Iligli collars and high coitfurcs are all the rage. i Easter dresses are l crcssniakcrs. i Imcc tin-55m, both black and white, will .agaui be norm. in the hands of, .““"I""‘, of fine. small flowers are worn z with ball or. was. Easter cards \\ it}. moducvid designs are i the novelties this season. Costumes with .lï¬tfl‘ domrstions are the la‘cst Parisian rmvclty. Nun‘s veiling bids fair to be lili‘ favorâ€" ite fabric for evening wear. ration r‘t-r the richest toilets. Yclvcfccns are more soft, silky, velvet ! like. i ! Lace is, aftcr all, the favorite oriuiiucii~ | and diirabhi than ever. I“iowcis~aial feathers rigumiargcly in evening. dinner, and brill toilets. . ‘Elll‘ill‘t‘ilil‘l‘t‘ai Swiss muslin dresses bid fair to be the favorites this summer. Fungus play an important part in the ‘tll‘llltiilt‘llllllliill or table cloths and riiip~ km». ‘ . limvor and bad taxis are tlic Correct- tiiing tor bail toilets, when the garnitures are of flowers. l‘iiti's or \vi'istlcfs of ribbon, velvet, and lace, \vrlh jet buckles and ornaments, are coming in vogue. 'I‘Iicfiucm body iiucn is embroidered more or less. and made exquisite with \ aicncrcrmcs or costly imitation laces. Neckieis of roses, forget-ruc-nofs, or pniisics linked together are in great favor for full dinner, reception, and ball dresses. . DillllL‘l‘, tea, breakfast. and luncheon linens are made as decorative as possible. With artistic cmbroiderics in color and 'gold thread. i The favorite triunniugof the. lIi-nri II. but is a broad band of velvet, a largo . iiieial, jet, or p-ivcilcd buckle, and a i pianaciie of fcatircis. Aftcraii the full blouse bodice, with low neck and bolted waist, is IIIU favorite lilll'.t}\‘t'lllilg dress-cs of veiling, mull, or Shines muslin. Silk underwear is made still more costly and cicgant \rith quantities of lace and imi'w It'SS lino embroidery and featherâ€" lsfitchcd seems. Accordiviii-pleated skirts and shoulder rapt-s, bordered with a deep accordion pleating, are worn together, especially by I children and young girls. ’ 'l‘ho favorite spring stuffs for dresses 1aretire ixhiba cloths. 'I‘hibet textures, canvas woven veiliugs, cashmere, and rough English woollens. Ii'cafiicrs and flowers fastened in the coill'uro with moths and butterflies ofgold thrcadaird gossamer are favorite orna- ments for cvtuing wear. The coiii‘ure is urrangcd in high pulls .and bands on the crown of tho iii-ad, but. ;small fallen the nap of the neck, and ‘ivavcd bangs on the IUI't‘IlIlt'iltI and lein~ pics. \Viicu a riceltlct of flowers is worn the limir is adorned with the same kind of bioaiioriis, goiui‘aiiy in a knot on one side i“f the cliiguon or on the crown braids i which are now worn. i The technical term motif is applied to illitirzc due )I‘iliillilrl in the form of embroid- leries, passeinunb-rics, or woven or head gtll'llillllt'lllt‘, the niuiuiatiori of leaves, ,bii‘ds, insects, flowers, :irabcsqucs, or lCtiith‘llli()ll'lii:’.t!t'l forms, with which ladies ioi‘ their dressniaircrs adorn the various iparts of the drcssicst costumes. 3 A llt‘W kind of embroidery, destined to ‘bccomc immensely fashionable, consists ,of l'.‘ll.’lt:il flowers, the petals formed of beetles, sand-flies and mosquitncsas big! as l lustrous satin or satin ribbon in all the beetles, and whose sting hurts like a dog's 3 colors and shades demanded by the artist, bite. The nuts are the greatest 1,05,; I land the leaves and caiiccsof Kcrrsiugton of“ saw. They eat every article ,,f Imp . stitch in silk liosa. Mme. Modjcska lately Vision or apparel ; scarcely airy precaution i ordered a drum (,-iiriiri.)idi-i‘cil in this alyio can elude their vigilance and cunning. i ofaii..-‘.\tl:irrt:i (Georgia) lady, who is an They raise “1,0110“. cylinder of earth l’Ul" i exiliunrtc painter with her needle. The pendicuiarly toward their object, and 1 price was fabulous, but lilt'il Mine. Modâ€" through it, as by nlriddcr, they ascend by i Jil-‘lli‘l ‘5 gl‘lli?l"ill~‘l- thousands. They are terrible perseculors 1 "‘,’“"‘“7“""‘,'""“- of the sick ; they will reach the bed in a I’I'AIILS 0F TRLTH' niglrt’t time, though hung at a distance ,, J " ‘ . . . from the ground, when their bite, like â€'0 "“l-V ““3" "I compo-ring â€m â€l 1" scalding water poured upon the skin, is I fail wounded andiicipicss at. tho Ilwiccnr more intolerable than the disease itsr:1f.icr3f““t' The sand-flies and mrmquitot-s \‘l'trl‘ui lltflilzion iii “UL =1 thing (If HUIHO "Hi1 terrible plagues, but nothing to compare! “ii-'IHH. hut. “f hllL'lll W†bilCl'illCU “ml with the wild bees, who ivoiiid swarm in 1 the bed-rooms, and sting every intruder. “Locusts come two or three times in a ¢ summer, and eat up everything green“ But nature is so prolific here that. in eight ' days the verdure will be all out again. i There were baboons as big as goml-:~imrl' boys. There are two kinds of" spider whose bito is deadly. One, a small, black fellow, is called iricnarody. Those who art- bitten fall into a swoon, and their lollies become as cold as ice. The other one is called the foka, or crub~spidcr. The. bit:- is followed by swelling, which brgiusat the part wounded, and spreads through . the whole body. colored, and death ensues, in five imam. The woman are dirty, curly-in .idmi creatures, blacker than crud, llllII\‘.'1'.‘il‘ simply a. cloth about their waist, only the higher class wearing shoes. “Some of their punishments are inr- barous in the extreme. Death is a common punishment. Christiana rocks beneath. while the dogs eat up flu-iv flesh. In the reign of itarmvzriona 2h.- missionsrics and Christians bad .. .« nab time of it, not equaled by the pumm- tions of the Spanish inquisition, or flu-1 terrors of the French bastiie, or the horrors of the black hole of Calcutta. Why, I have seen them throw a prisoner on the ground and spear him to death, just as boy at. school sticks illclt. Smurâ€" tirnes they flog them to death. 1 rut-iffy them, burn them alive, and stone them In: death. The King ltodoma was siranciml by a fine silk cord, as they are perstitious about shedding the Hound of royalty. " “Does the country have any mi..- mercial relations with the rest of the world 1" "They ship horned rattle from the interior to the Island of Mauritius, if the crocotlilea don't eat them up in fordiw r) .‘Jl' the rivers before they reach the eon-11.: They raise coffee and rice. Ebony is found and gum copai. Some trade is carried on in India-rubber, and a few years sine“. an English company tried raising cotton, in: Icsnnot say how sucamsful they are. The great trouble with the country is that it is so extremely unhealthy for Europeans. It would take years to clean out the underbnnh and drain the marshes. The missionaries claim to ltlr'fl: made treat headwav here, both Iberian Iatholic and I'rutufant, but a new king or queen ascends the IIIIUL’IJ ,every new and then, who don't take lilU-‘xil i .brcsk 0‘7 thï¬il’ death by tho docen, fired alive, tit-«l up engagement, that she tried to snatch the » to stakes, and Olivia made no objection on that score,lengagement ring from her ï¬nger, but it murdered." eriy at the proffered ; was so firml fitted that she could not rc- Cristine'l scrapie: more it. a“. m m on V ‘ ‘ t M l -' cra ; the my fact other beiu'g De rim. jrumrm lover. ° "W “I“h‘d' ""h" stock in them, and they are hIlJlttlI in in other cruel Ways â€" __ _ now ought nutty be granted do It'll icsitate to say “5â€." It is a who: father, } If your son asks something of you which says the proverb, who nu's his own son. The animal Ill inzirooir~ ‘ are thrown down the cragy, rocky mou dain, I and their bones broken on the utnfi‘ilr‘, quietgrowtli. Iicalircnism was the soaking religion ; .‘ludzrism the hoping religion; Christianity is the reality of what Ilcathcnisiu sought and .liidainiu hoped for. Religion stands upon two pillars, name~ 3': what t'inist did for us in His lit-sh, ud what he performiifor us by His spirit. Most, errors arise from an attempt to sup karate them: two. i Christian love is nothing; It .‘ii than the _1.'I'('tli,i\’(! love of Hod active within us. ,IIov. lu-aicirwille from the moderate eru- Hrtion which goes by the name of Christian 'charity, 5 Holding a rose in his band: 'Tis antag- iiilicurt Work of (Imi. Could a mun make one such rose as this. he would be worthy iof all honor: but the giftaof Hod lose :tbeir value in our eyrs from their very ,iiitinity. ‘ Though it isci-rfain that true rcpt‘tlt' air-M: I'l never too late, it is as certain that i'itt- repentance is seldom true. Corridor It‘ll It‘lil’lliltlitjt' commonly cheats ineir \iifh genvrzrl promises, and is both to covenam against particular sins. ‘fnrma'ma is not sincere if it, is not uniâ€" l'i‘i‘rlll. You nevurget to the end of Christ's , words. There isnumcthiugalways behind. i'I'iiey piss info proverbs ; they pa‘m into liaw; they pass into doctrines; they pass into constitutions; but they never pass away, {liltl after all the use that is made of them they arr.- stiil not 0).; li‘rllxtltd. let- : New truth is taught, new fueling in~ rpirc‘l Iv_'.' tin: lf’llll‘tiulli :lihli will trite-lion of one .u .ul 4-“ the-other; they keep iaeb riti’p r liiiv.ryt17!'lt: and warm. Nothing is more beautiful that the growth of twa luciuls' nature. who are always finding , Iit‘l'.‘ drpiim in th‘ll utiicr's life. This i. 7.: vulture of [Alcohol friendship finds it 4 infinite image in lll‘: saving of the soul by Jesus Christ. .. ......_... o-.. uâ€"â€"â€"â€"â€"â€"~â€"' God’s Power, Man’s llnty. ’I'iu: yer-mute of find are. made equal in the i-lll‘~l"i‘l,‘l laid upon tlwm. I! youliavc n rrnriy brought to disciplenhip you ail! always In: hungry for more truth. You my you hear a sermon every Sunday, and I my to you, what of it I “'imt have you gained I lrai healthy rippe- 1m.- flu-2‘. not lead a man to turn away from Io rl beam-u: fond of the same kind in... Ilc'ill icrvrd to him before. No man viii b..- ruzm first. Ill: is not in danger of maria-l Ivvlitrg in some direction. Divine ;..‘.i'el is always really to be put in operaâ€" tion if we ltlii law-p the elmnnels ready. You in i)‘ will: 1‘. alum! of paper and IIII ll wrth hum of ciphers, but they amount to nothing mi you put the one at the begin- ning. Numbers in a church are idle un- mm the spirit of God leads them. Ask yourself if you have not. been living be- ~iow yourpriviicgea.â€"Dr. Hull. - in.