:'a: MONA AND MJSB amnriNB wwatJBL, IT HATTIE K. 8. CBBSSY. .j , ;* :'Mv 4^: ,> y: • *s*< "?•*: f if lcer«ootfn& o'er the lirtra-- *®Waaneither dark nor scarcely<dawit-i» Her ankles dripping with the dew; She bad her spinning-wheel ta haqd. ^ ' With dists.fr wound, and flaxen battl t. That she bad made anew. t Iran to meet her at the gate, , t«J made excuse for being late s '. - v, To fetch her epianingwkeel, hardly heard the low reply, Bat know the spell of cheek andef«v Contrived my heart to steal. , ' k"-i Bat she hastened on before ; ' ' Until she reached the kitchsa door, " > And there she sat and spun; vi - 'i - * A I - fe; / ;V* " i P=; >v\ ̂ •% -4- m*" v,v ' -t m Ob, Mon* Grey, sweet MonaGreyl* Î i aot have left her all that day, | .% But maple sap would ran. 6 f opioid not leave my task ttU Bat went at early candle-light, 1 ( And stood beside her chair. 5 She said her day's work waa not |||faita| faster still she span, Although the night was fair. kt last, I whispered in"her ear, , ̂ "I have a tale for yon to hear; Come out beneath the moon." • I cannot listen now," she said, "for spinning of your mother's thread ' I Kir,at go heme so soon." go ahe spun and apnn till nine. And still the moon and stars did sfcllbe ' As we crossed the meadow plaii Oh, how I wished the Widow Orey lived a docen leagues away On * nigM M tJ»t, Bow X plead my cause so well im sure I never since ooali tall, The moments were so few; Or the course I homeward took, *Rmind the hill or through the brook, 'Are things I never knew.. only knew that ahe bad heard, Bad heard my story, every word. And did not answer nay; She was a girl of bashful mien, Aad on my arm did slightly lean. The one sweet word to say. Aad when again she sat and span, 1 knew her heart was fairly won-- 1 had not wooed in vain; For one might go the country through And not find a maid so trus, Or so satisfied a swain. ,9rmrxmr.T>. Mass. X: / ' fc . fey- s. ili-vi" ., I#1# ' »#4 "fa . OR ' 3 •' t -<• r-m, ,##• r ^ imM --ftiK5?j : V. • % I-*.<: ife M. - X t% " HikuGMT IN HIS OWN TOILS. The ringing sound that came bom a blackened smithy told that the steel was smithening steel. The smith who swung the ponderous hammer wis a man of no common muscle. He was young and remarkably hand- wane; bnt there was an evil lurking in his cold, black eyes which would have Mpulsed the close observer. The light of his forge rendered ghostly the objects in the remote cor ners of the shop; bnt it fell brightly upon the strange looking piece oi steel he was hammering. It resembled the jaw of some immense Hip, strong enough to hold a bear, and the wonder was that the strength of man oould prepare it for its prey. If any man in Middletown oould eon- tool such a trap it was the man whose hands were fashioning it. For a long time David Thrall had been working of nights, with his shop barred to visitors, and the clang, elang, dang of his hammer had sounded in the furthest oorner of the growing vil lage. lie was a man of strong passions, the ftnt to resent an insult to a friend, and the last to give up an argument when he lonnd logic against him. .• ;No person had bothered Kim while be hung the hammer over the terrible jitee! trap which he was making. - • It is true that a few boys looktod in at HM window at the inauguration of his work, but his maddening threats against them had kept the prying urchins away. *1 told her that she should never Jaogh at my love and live to boast of it to another man!" David Thrall said aloud, one night, as he paused to wipe great drops of perspiration from his brow. * She laughed then, and told me no to let anger get the best of me, and thought I would forget it. Forget? Never!" and the hammer came down fwigelulty upon the glowing steeL *1 am making this trap because you Injected my love, Agnes Temple. But shall not tear your pretty skin. No, 90! I would not injure one of your golden hairs; but I am going to teach you that there is one in Middletown whose heart cannot be trifled with." ' Thus he talked to himself, while he stood over his anvil and swung his hammer, whose every blow told on his horrible mechanism, and hurried it to ward completion. That night he fin ished it. He held it in the light of his eoal five, f- and pronounced it perfect; smiled upon it with pride, showed that he had w, •̂ reng^h enough to master its jaws. | "Now, my boys, well try it." | If T D*vid Thrall put his trap into a sack, ̂ pnothered the fire, and left the smithy, j Be walked rapidly toward the outskirts of the village, seen by no one, for the ̂ night WH dark and the wind high & ̂ It was in the autumn of the year, and £ -the yelow leaves of the trees fell around ' bim in golden showers. But he did not £ nbtioe them any more than to brush an ̂ oooasional one from his long beard, be- • grimed like his fabe with the soot of his ̂ fbop. k He did not come to a halt until he ! ilpched the iron tank that ran over the which he was traversing, f !Middletown had not been honored fajr t 8team can, which, as if to taunt the ' place, left it half a mile to the west. .454' n. v ' David Thrall threw his burden down, and a sigh of relief escaped him. Then he struck a match and looked at his 'ilratoh. *Pe passes about 0," he muttered. "The passenger goes by at 10, then the the lightning express." He spoke with a fiendishness almost #>regn to the human heart, and set to Work fastening the strong chain atfcftohed to his infernal trap to the iron rails. He had evidently studied this part Of his work, for he performed it in dark ness and then rested. But the end was not yet. Throwing himself upon the spring, he aet the trap, and the terrible jaws were ready to close upon their victim. The wind threw leaves over the trap, as if intent on aiding the jealous black smith, andfas the clouds scurried west ward, he saw the star gleams fall upon the leaves that covered it. It was a picturesque place which David Thrall had selected for the deed upon which he had set his heart. The road was narrow--indeed, not more than a path--that led to Middle- town, and the home of Agnes Temple. He knew the man he hated would traverse it before dawn, and he knew, too, that his trap would hold him to the iron track. It was a revenge almost too terrible to be reoorded. "There!" exclaimed the smith, as he stepped away a pace and triumphantly surveyed the result of his night's toil in the sooty shop. "Now let the prey oome! The trap is ready. I wish you a pleasant time of it, Julian Wingford. To be plain, I should like to know how a man would fed between two such jaws." Then he picked up the sack and started back to Middletown. But he had not gone ten yards before he halted. "The trap might have been set a little easier," he said to himself. "It has not been worked mueh, and the easier it is set the surer I shall be of my prey." Intent upon readjusting the devilish invention, the blacksmith retraced lps steps, and for the second time in that lonely and beautiful spot he bent over the cross-ties. He placed his knee upon the spring to prevent the jaws from closing and catching their maker, while he tampered with the trigger. ̂ He was in the midst of the work, when, from some unaccountable cause, his knee slipped from the spring, and-- oh, honor! the mighty jaws olosed on his wrists. With a cry, indescribably full of agony, the entrapped man tried to spring to his feet, but the trap, fastened as it was to the rails, held him securely down. The sharp teeth seemed to out into the marrow of his bones, and he was ex periencing the honor of a human being caught in trap. He tried to crush the spring, but it would not yield to the power which it had lately owned, and then he tried to tear himself loose. But the pain occasioned by his efforts was so great that he was forced to de sist lest he should faint, and in that condition he caught the train. "If it had caught my leg," he eried, "I could tear it loose; but oh! these precious arms of mine!" It was a terrible moment lor the en- taapped man. All at once, in that hour of terror, he thought of the man for whom he had prepared the jaws of unyielding steel. He would doubtless reach the cross ing and release him before the train due, for Julian Wingfold was not a vengeful rival . All thoughts of revenge against the beautiful Agnes Temple had left his mind; he looked up at thestaro,and they seemed to mock his misery; he cried for help from the tenor-stricken depths of his heart. But no footsteps sounded upon his ears. Heaven and man seemed to have left the hater to his fate. Suddenly David Thrall started, and n cry of welled from his throat. The shrill shriek of the engine told him that the one dread hour of his captivity had passed away, and the end oi all was near at hand. "Heaven have mercy!" he eried. " Do not unto me aa I have done unto another!" But no deliverance oame, and the sound of the whistle died away with a mocking echo. Within five minutes the iron monster would be upon him, and the most ter rible drama ever enacted in that lovely country would have reached its tragic finale. He heard the roar of the train, which seemed to approach on the wings of the wind. He raved, he .cursed, aad triad to wrench his wrists from the jaws of steel, and tried to break them off and bear life and bleeding stumps away, but in vain. With the tenacity of death itself the trap held him down. The engine shrieked again, and Da vid ThrftU paqsed and looked over his shoulder. He sew the head-light now; itdased his eyes, and he could not shade the precious orbs with his hands. Then he ' w shrieked at the top of his voice; but the cars came on. "No deliverance! Oh, Heaven!" he exclaimed, sinking in the few seconds he had yet to liVe. " I have merited this. What a terrible thing retribution is! He will be happy, and she will smile upon him with all her dazzling beauty. But I--I--oh, Heaven pity me! Chained to the track--caught in the trap made by my own hands for a fellow-being. It is juUfc. Heaven forgive wet and o o m f o r t m y j x > o r -- ^ The rumbling of the train had scarcely died away in the distanoe, when Julian Wingfold, returning from the home of Agnes Temple, crossed the track. He stepped where the instrument of death had been placed, and passed on without noticing its handiwork. If he had but glanced down he might have seen the two battered steel jaws, closed now upon the lifeless hands only of his rival, the blacksmith. The remains were discovered on the following day, and the presence of the trap told the awful story. David Thrall's widowed mother soon followed him to the grave. The little smithy still stands in Mid dletown, and the superstitious say that at night David Thrall can be heard beating steel before his forge. Julian Wingfold is a happy husband and father now, but he never thinks of that one night's walk without a feeling of thankfulness as well as of horror. PIONEERS Or OREGON. CAPT. BOBKBT L. WILLIAMS, SOLDIXB AHD SCOUT. History has furnished us many in stances of the heroism of men in the ages which are gone, and yet we must look over the records of American pioneers to find examples of genuine, disinterested bravery and true nobility of character. J. Fenimore Cooper, in his delineation of the life-scenes of Na thaniel Bumppo, has supplied the true picture of the vicissitudes through which the early settler went in subdu ing the wildernesses of America. There has ever been a class of men who have lived upon the borders of the frontier, retreating at every advance of civiliza tion. They lived upon the excitement incident to such a life. Among those characters, not one is more oonspiouons than Capi. R. L. Williams. Possessing an enthusiastic temperament, he came to California, with the " Argonauts of *49," during the gold excitement then existing. Here he became famous as a prospector and a courageous man, and performed many deeds of daring. Af ter remaining in California about one year he came to Oregon. At this time a large portion of the southern part of the State waa infested with savages, who were engaged in committing depredations upon the whites. Capt. Williams at once became famous among the whites as a proteotor, and among the Indian tribes he was feared as a dangerous enemy. His reputation among the savages was about what Natty Bumppo bad among the Iroquois or Canadian Indians. There was no danger Capt. Williams would not face to protect the settlers who were in peril from the hostiles. When the "Rogue Biver war" broke out the hardy pioneers of the State came forward with a de termination to put a finishing blow to the Indian troubles. Companies of vol unteers were organized. Capt. Will iams was chosen over Judge Mosher as the commanding officer of a company, so great was his popularity at the time. He was always at his post of duty, and ever ready to do deeds of daring. There was not one of his acquaintance but held Capt. Williams in the highest es teem. The value of his services to Oregon in subduing the savages can not be appreciated too highly. He is known to have been an honorable wan He fought through the "Rogue Biver war* with great distinction, winning the rep utation of a brave and courageous The cloud which some of the envious east over his character passed away leaving him honored by all - who knew him. Many people are to-day in Boseburg who remember Capt. Will iams, and that memory has treasured his manly qualities. He left Oregon some years ego and is now living in Utah. Capt. Williams, like the other pioneers of Oregon, has made a record which the future historian will weave into an enchanting narrative. At pres ent the data is so meager that the writer is limited to afew facts. , L. H.WKLL«. Boeaaoao, Oie. TMJB NOCTOARA AJTBWJCM. A physician in a country town, who had been annoyed by numerous ques tions concerning the condition of a patient, was stopped, while on his busy rounds, by a man with the old ques tion : " How's M---? " " HI," replied the physician. "Does he keep his bed?" "Of course he does. You don't sup pose he's fool enough to sell his bed when he's so ill, do you? " THE Lower Connecticut river has been much visited of late by seals, and some have been seen as far up as Bocky hill, ten miles below Hartford* -PME JsAtrOFjTUE CASUS. n : i- ̂ .MBMAtt, • :}<•' --:•"I Wl̂ en Judge Bogan was a practicing lawyer, in Georgia, he weighed about 800 pounds. He was a short man, and had no coupling pole between his head and his shoulders. His back was aa broad as a cellar door. Of course he was a good-natured man, but sometimes was very sarcastic in the use of language before a jury. One day he had a case in a Justice oourt in one of the upper counties of Georgia, and there was a little lawyer on the other side named Wiggihs. Wiggins weighed about nine ty pounds, and was game and sassy, like most all little men, and a voice as fine as the E string on a fiddle. Well, the Judge was rollicking alftngfa a good-natured way to the jury, and made some allusions that insulted Wiggins' dignity. Whereupon Wiggins hopped up like a kildee. and hit the Judge a lick on the back. The Judge looked round a little, and says he, "What you Tbout, what you T)out?" Tm a fitin'F says Wi "Set down and behave yourself," said the Judge, and his eyes twir»k/.»r.l mer» rily as he continued his rhapsody of random remarks. Pretty soon he of fended Wiggins again, who, rising for ward, tumultuously popped bim three or four times more, making as mueh im pression as if he had hit the side of a house. "What you *bout, Wiggina? What you tryin' to do?" said the Judge as he winked at the jury. "I tell you, sir, I'm a fitin'," screamed Wiggins, and he popped him again. The Judge reached his arm baok and gently "squashed" Wiggins down to his chair, saying, "Set down, Wiggins, and be quiet, or Til take you by the nape of the neck and seat of the breeches and throw you up so high the blue birds will build nests in your jacket pooket before you oome down. Be still, I say." Wiggins "beed still," but he studied the oode of honor for a few days, and then went back to his tailor's trade. When the Judge was elevated to the bench he didn't give the juries very much latitude in making up a verdict. If the verdict didn't suit him he charged 'em over again and sent them 'back. One day CoL Foster was defendin' a fellow who was sued on a promissory note, and wound up an eloquent speech with " These are the grand principles of the law, gentlemen, which control the case. They are as old as England, as solid as the Blue Ridge, and have come down to us untarnished by the tide of time or the wreck of bloated em pires, and so will his Honor charge you." The Judge was leaning forward, his eyes sparkling and his mouth twitching at the corners. Hardly waiting for the Colonel to sit down, he said: His Honor won't charge you any such thing, gentlemen; for those eternal principles my Brother Foster has elucidated have no more to do with the case than the Koran of Mohammed. This defendant admits that he signed this note, and if you believe him then all these dilatory, nugatory, purgatory pleas that he has ripped up, tripped up, dug up, stumped up, and trumped up, won't avail him. What do you say to that, Brother Fos ter, eh?" " Nothing, sir; only that I am obliged to differ with the court," said the Colonel. "Yes, sir, you can differ; you have the right to differ; but where the oourt and the counsel difler the court pre vails, and that's the law of this case, gentlemen. Retire and make up your verdict." HOW QVSJP2T TBTJB VICTORIA JKNPPXD QUESTION. On June 20,1887, William IV. died, and Victoria, then a young madden, as cended the throne. It had been planned in diplomatic circles to have her marry Alexander, the brother of the King of the Netherlands; but that project failed, for Prince Albert, of Cobourg, came to England in 1839 and won the heart of England's Queln. On the 14th of October her Majesty informed the Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, of that important but delicate fact, and the following day the Prince had an au dience with the Queen. The two lovers were placed in a very peculiar position. The social position of Victoria was so superior to that of Prince Albert that be could not make the first advance, nor offer the lady his hand, as is usually the case between lovers now-a-days. It was rather for her to make the proposi tion, and offer her hand, and she accom plished the somewhat-unusual task in a very skillful maimer. With a gracious smile she handed the Prince a bouquet of flowers, which he plaoed as near as possible to his heart. As he had no button-hole or pocket in. that region of his close-fitting uniform, he took a penknife, cut a slit, and slipped in the precious token. He then ex pressed his thankfulness and pleasure at being so well received at the English Court, and especially at his reception by the Queen, in reply to which she asked him the tell-tale question: "Ii the country pleases your Highness so well, perhaps you would not object to NR THE SPRIJTO. remain with us?" The Prince replied in the spriaf the merry robin jumps aboat ubpo tbe that waa the great desire of his life? and -- the Queen, feeling that the decisive moment had come, though quivering in the .pnng uir Musidora wean a roaebad in b with womanly delicacy, confessed to him honestly her great love for him, and as sured him that it would be the oause of her greatest happiness if he would con sent to make the sacrifice necessary to become the husband of the Queen of England. For he could be nothing more than her husband, and would have nothing to do with the political affairs. The Prince was charmed and capitu lated unconditionally. They were mar ried on the 10th of February, 1840. Their marriage was in every way a hap py one, and their wedded life unalloyed until death seized the Prince as his prey. Calumny and intrigue never poi soned the sweetness of their family life, which stands to-day as a model not only for crowned heads, but also for the humblest of human kind. „ * IDLENBBA. ' Hard work for those who are not used to it, and dull work for those who are. Idleness is a moral leprosy, which soon eats its way into our heart and corrodes our happiness, while it undermines our health. Nothing is so hard to do as to do nothing. The hypochondriacal Countess, who "envies every cinder*- wench she sees," is much more to be pitied than the toiling drudge who " sighs for luxury and ease." Idleness is costly without being a luxury. Montaigne always wound up the year's account of his expenses with the following entry: " Item--for my abominable habit of idleness--a thou sand livrea." Idlers may deserve our compassion, but few things are more misplaced than the contempt lavished ppon them as useless members of society. Some times such scorn is only masked envy. Where it is real, it is wrong. All rich idlers may be termed the representa tives of former industry and talent; they must either have achieved inde pendence by their own exertions or those of their ancestors, for almost all wealth can be traced back to' labor or genius or merit of some sort. And why do the revilers of the idle labor and toil with such perseverance ? That they may imitate those whom they abuse, by acquiring an independence and becom ing themselves idle. The sight of lux urious ease is the best stimulus to ex ertion. To suppose that the pleasure oi! overtaking is greater than that of pur suing the game, may be a mistake, but it is a beneficial one, and keeps society from stagnating. Rich idlers are the advancers of civilization, the best en oouragero of industry, the surest patrons of literature and the arts. Nor is there anything invidious in their good fort une, for every one may aspire to rival or surpass it, which is not the case with hereditary distinctions. We toil for leisure only to discover, when we have succeeded in our object, that leisure is a great toil. How quick ly would the working classes be recon ciled to what they term theourseof compulsory occupation if they were doomed, only for a short time, to the greater curse of compulsory idleness! Quickly would they find that it is much better to wear out than to rust out. Chicago Ledger. TUB COST Of LITERARY SUCCESS. If our census-takers reoorded the number of young women who aspire to authorship, the world would be aston ished at the fertility of American brains. How many bright school-girls cherish day-dreams that are doomed to fade away! Not one in a thousand suspects the inoessant toil which must precede even partial success in authorship. Alice Gary was one of the few Amer ican women who have won a modest in come by her pen; She was rarely gift ed, and her genius seemed to flow without effort into story or song. But there were few harder workers in the land than this frail woman. Her biographer gives a striking pict ure of her daily life. She rose early, and attended to the family marketing before breakfast. That was the happy meal of the day. Phoebe was then full of merriment, her wit brimming over in all directions and making sunshine for the whole household. Then they separated till dinner--the sisters always writing apart--till a lake hour in the afternoon. During this long interval, Alice was engaged in exhausting literary toil. Her biographer says: " Of rest, recre ation, amusement, as other women sought these, she knew almost nothing. Her rest and Tecreation were intervals from pain, in which she could labor." If young dreamers knew what liter ary success costs, there would be fewer aspirants for its honors. A WISH COUMSX. Mention is made of a lady who saves the congregation where she worships $10,000 a year. A woman of wealth and of high social culture fend position, she makes it her rule and the fashion to dress for church in so "plain and inex pensive a manner as to throw the whole influence of the congregation ageing extravagance in drees. lawn; la the sprint Adolphos Blley pate his in pawn; locks; la the spring the painter palateth, "Use ^oa 8alrs " upon the rocks; la the spring the onlip Mnasoms hi the leas and the hills; la the spring the blaahlag Mm Jmt dut' ' of bilious pills; Y| la the spring the weary husband teste the earpe in the grove; la the spring the weary husbaad wrestles with the parlor stove; - • - ~-f! la the spring unto the poet satth fee editor, "Oat henoet" IB the •pring the circus-poster decorates the" coal- yard fence; la the spring within the forest blows the violet, the fern; la the spring the small boy shivers as fcegsaess* the chain; fn the spring the happy poet thinw forever ha yould live; la the spring the caa's ooaaected with the canineHi narrative; la the spring the downy clo«d-ship •««« serenely o'er the flats; to the spring the maiden's fancy lightly truna js thoughts of hate; la the spring through rosy bowers doth the brook- * let wend its way; la epring---but wherefore should I thus give " Gentle spriag " away? "-Jfeie York Star. '. ----aMfc- BLEABJLNTRIES. A TINT thing--A fork. THE breath of scandal control of cardamon seeds. SOME men oannot stand prosperity. Others never get a chance to try. WHKN you offer a tramp bread, and he makes a rye face, you can conclude he prefers whisky. YOUNO man, you should be mighty careful who you kiss. There ia< of catching ere-sip-a-lass. A LITTLES girl, on looking at a picture of a ship in a thunder-storm, remarked that " God was sticking crooked piwf into the bad man." JEFVBBSOK said : "We seldom re pent of having eaten too little." He never went out to fish all day without taking breakfast before starting. JUDGE--" Have you anything to offer to the court before sentence is passed on you? " Prisoner--" No, Judge; I had $40, but my lawyer took that." ELOQUENT barber--"Howll you have your hair.cut, sir?" Accommodating Customer--" Oh, most any way. Only, if you decide to take it off, leave the skin on, at any rate." A HUSBAND'S farewell--" Dear Sal, he doctor tells me our baby's tooth won't be through fcr three weeks yet; till then, good-by; you ah&ys said you loved it more than I did." PATRICK--"And, Biddy, darlint, they've been tellin' me there's too many of us in the wurrld. Now, if you and me get the praste to make us two wan* troth won't there be wan the less? " Miss PENNEY was saved from drown ing by Jonathan Smith, In equity she- belongs to Smith from this time here after, because a Penny saved is a Pen ny earned.--Toledo Commercial. SOME men never lose their presence of mind. In New York a man threw his mether-in-law out of a window in tthe fifth story of a burning buildings and carried a feather bed down stain in his arms. LOOK not upon the strawberry when it is red, when it giveth its color in the short-cake; for at the last it biteth like a serpent and is indigestible like unto a Welsh rarebit eaten at midnight.-- New York Mail. THE last civil thing going the rounds in London is to this effect: A lady mid, - "I know of no more disagreeable, bad- tempered and spiteful woman than Lady X." "Don't forget yourself in that way, pray," replied a friend. Baa eyes are like the Do, Moat beautiful to Si, jf A|>d though I roam a Fa, , There's only one sweet M " finch souls immortal La) Can bring a blissful Be ' |f * OI heavenly hope to Ml t Btagl A SCHOOLMISTRESS, while taking down the names and ages of her pupils and the names of their parents at the be ginning of their term, asked one littlf . fellow, "What's your father's name?* Oh, you needn't take down his name; he's too did to go to school to a wom an," waa the reply. BUBLINOTON Hatok-JSye: Emma Ab bott writes to an Eastern paper: "To this day I love the school girl who gave me half her apple one day when I was hungry." We can see your half applet Emma, and go you a bushel better. We still love the girl out of whose grandfather's orchard we used to steal gallons and pecks of apples when we weren't a particle hungry. And now if you oould juat ate her bafey--oh, Emma! Paarrr Jeaaie came to me, Earnest, aeekiag iatormattpa; 1 Cousin, darling, will you show What is meant by osculatioaf " What could mortal man as I Do in such a situation Y Father, mother, no one nigh. Liberal views, a great temptation! Jennie is my cousin, too; So, to pleaae my young relation-- J ./'i " Ah, yon horrid thiag, there I aowl I referred to ooeultatton." --Yal» Hecont.