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I. VAN (LYME, Ctftor Mi Prtlfrhw. McHENRY, ILLINOIS. THK DEATH OF I.OVK, ALAS I f Wa dwell together, you and I, Hie same in outward seeming AS whon we lirst, in vcars pone by. Saw [I vinen'a torches gloaming, No Open jat\ no passing t»trife, 1 DfsturbcB our lovel c; urses; But yet wo feci tho spr ngs of life Are poisoned at tlieir sources. ; , Thocourteou# smile, the pleasant speech, When others gather near us; Tile lengthening silence, each with eacl^ When limio are by to hear us ; The furtive watch anil covert sneer,. . Sfaarp jests, in earnest spoken ; i v 5 All these have meaning full and clqfcf-V Though peace may seem unbrokej||.? J Oar idols lie amid the dust, In thiua&nil fragments shattered, •,> » » And laith anil quiet, truth and trusty Forevenuore are scattered. 60 day by t ay, unheard, unseen. Still grows "the barrier stronger; Jk. sombre shadow sweeps betweein And love is ours no longer. "The little rift within the lute," „ Will mar the song's completeness ; "The littio t-p?ck within the fruit" Will kill its bloom and sweetness, Zb aki^s that seem to others bright We hoar the muttering thunder; The hidden doubt shall leap ta ligh^ And part out lives asunder. --SoHtfliohl irertfo. 'YflCB IG68 THAT NIVXB HATCH. BY W. J. LASIPTON. Tfeere'e a young man on the corner, filled with lire and strength and ' Looking far beyond tho present. With tho whole world in his soopo. He is grasping at to-morrow. That phantom none can catch; .< To-day is lost. He's waiting For eggs that never hatch. . . There's an old man over yonder,' With a worn and wenry face. With searching, anxiousf^atuMfc And weak, uncert tin pace. He '8 ii\in^ in the future, •'*' ' With no desire to catch The golden Now. He's waiting For the eggs that never hatch. There % a wo Id of men and women, With their life's wor* yet undone, : Wli" are slULut, iiioviug Beneath the ; ame great sun; Ever e&yer f.r the future, Bu" no: c ut- lit to snatch The Pre sent. They are waiting For eggs that never hatch. --MtrcJutiU Travder. GOLD. ^ =>. > _ BT STANLEY VEKN'ET. . Roger Sherwood was an exemplary young mta Ho was as steady and mechodical'ashis ^ '« own frandfather. None of the folliew of ordinary JSc/^ youth were ever charged to him. He had been fy, , " lield np as a pattern for wayward sons to copy a5?\.- until he was much more popular witli niiddle*- • * -aged and old people than witli those of his own ^ age. When he was scarcely Iti his father died " and left his mother, two sisters, and a enm- X?ta fortable property to his cafe. Iloger assumed |£*, ' Ids duties willingly and performed them faith- $»-<? tullv, never uttering a complaint regardinganv peivonal ambition he was obliged to resign. This responsibility naturally made hiin prn- £'•>•?< dent and thoughtful ln-yond his years. His J HV « mind was filled with calculations pertaining to * his farm and stock, and lie had no time for idle p.;- ' pleasure. He ear^v learned to make a good fcV \ bargain, bufep.o man could say that Roger Sher- * » wood defrauded him out of a" cent. tp/." As the years advanced his fields broadened Y; and his flocks and herds increased The estate jiV' his father left was more than doubled. His M;," ' two tisters married, received their portions, and H settled in homes of their own. gfi,f; , Roger and his mother lived togother until ' death again visited the old farm-house and left f|V,. tho son alone, with the exception Of the help igf , that he employed. gp3. , It soon became the talk of the ladies at the i']*•»' Dorcas Society and tea parties of that neigh- , borhood that Roger Sherwood ought to marry. His age was estimated to be 32 at least, and it |g/'\ . certainly high time he thought of looking ifc * out for a wife. j S ^ i A m e l i a T o d d , a y o u n g l a d y o f 2 5 , w h o w a s sjr' -' ' notcf' f°r her practical capabilities rather than •fr\ ' personal attractions, was unanimously selected t* •' as the probable winner of this grand matri- Wy nionial prize. Miss Amel:a was known to be a ar;, . capital butter maker and poultry grower. 5$. » She, being neat, brisk, efficient and thrifty, liaving taken several premiums at county fairs : for culinrv triumphs, bed quilts, and rag •' «'arpetfl, there was no doubt that she would ^>s* »' make Roger a profitable wife. • It was said that he had shown her a little raft } ' discreet attention, hence everybody was much . suiijrised when he, without asking any friends' gjfc 4)( advice, or giving confidence to any one, inar- ned Leta \ anee, a little 17-year-old girl fresh from boarding-school, who never baked a loaf 5 , " of bread nor made a shirt, and knew no more it', _ ,. than a baby about keeping house. The meni- ix?i"8 of the Dorcas Society were disgusted, and £* ^t,c'are(i with one aecord that for one in his ^ - life their model youngman had made a blunder. | ' His keen judgment had failed him in the im- jjjj#' - portant matter of selecting a life partner. Jiot one of the estimable ladies had expected 3s,„-r . 'linger Sherwood could be captivated bv a mere ' piece of dainty prettiness like Leta" Vance. Amelia Todd said "she was not even pretty. She |» •. lacked color, and her great eyes alwavs seemed ' to be gazing at something away off, and as jr, » i for hei yellow hair that folks made such a fuBS it was Miss Amelia's opinion that it was . - .bleached and done on curl papers everv night" '4 . Hut the young people of the place* did not y. .agree with this criticism. With them Leta's -chann of person and manner far outweighed M-' Miss Amelia's solid qualities, and it was con- ?.? V-r , eidered on their Bide rather strange that Leta / «hould fancy such an old young man as Roger ggV';; • Sherwood. f": ,' Perhaps Leta's mother was somewhat re- I * ' > sponsible for the match. She was a vain, f rivo- f; s> - lous woman who liked to be thought of and .imT «he found a grown-up daughter something of $,» ' a drawback. ps,iy:;. L e t a h a d b e e n k e p t a w a y a t s c h o o l m o s t o f V * ,*he time since her father died, but had per- "4..,'. Kitted in graduating young, and, not knowing is, what else to do with her, the mother concluded it would be beet to marry her off as soon as sfc' possible. - .So-..hen Roger Sherwood honored the young pirl with a seeming preference Mrs. Vance was jj£V,_ „ delighted and manceuvered to bring Leta in his society and keep up his interest. No one ever suspected her scheme, least of *'1 I>ita herself. She had always been kept tinder strict rule at school and in the back­ ground at home, and it was a novel and pleasant «hange to be allowed to attend even the simple amusements of a country village. She felt somewhat flattered by the attentions of such a sedate and excellent young man as Roger. It was a reminder of the delightful fact that she •was grown up. Leta was inclined to be romantic and senti­ mental; she had read a good many novels, and dreamed of a hero who was tall and dark and princely in his l>earing, who would one dav make her the queen of his heart and home. The truth of the matter was that since her lather died, whom sherememberodas a gentle, ®*^-faced man, the poor child had sadlv missed the loving companionship a mother should give her daughter, and her setar-'tive heart was •often lonely and oppressed for want of love and care. She longed to be dearlv loved, to l>e all in all to some one. Thus it was that Leta gratefully accepted even a semblance of the affection slic dreamed of. Roger was not unlike her faDcied hero, inas-« much ae he was tall and dark and grave. He •was certainly rather handsome, but Leta could not help observing that he was a little stiff and awkward. He was, however, a real lover, and lier first, so she was not critical. She managed to weave little poetic fancies about him, and fondly imagined that he was so deeplv in love that he would change for her sake anv little liabit that did not quite please her. But she V as mistaken in thinking that she could make a past-matrimonial lover of him. He did not believe in foolish sentimentalities. Courting was well enough in its way, but when they •were married it was time to settle down emd begin life as they could hold out. After he had his bird fairly cagcd, what was the use as wasting any more time, Roger -again gave his whole attention to the pursuitis "that had engrossed his mind before he thought it worth his while to woo and win a wife. It was supposed he loved her, else why should he have married her? Leta brought him no .fortune, and lie knew she could not work and eave like Amelia Todd. Notwithstanding all his sound Bense, he evi dently had en eye for beauty and wanted an •ornament for his dull old house. He gave her a comfortable home and ex peeted her to be happy and content, and amuse Tiers elf as she saw fit. It never occurred to him that' she could not be as independent and self- contained as her mother. He wished her to look pretty and bright but did not deem it necessary to praise her looks or dress or notice the little things she did to please him. f|PMi4i00my and Let* saw at one© that it might be made very pleasant by a few alterations end im­ provements, which she knew her linsband could well afford. She had plans also for Ix'autifying the spa­ cious grounds that wore filled witn trees and overgrown shrubi>ery. Leta wished to pre­ serve the trees but dispense with most of the giant lilac, snow-ball, and flowering currant bushes that made the yard a wilderness. She laid out in her 'mind a beautiful lawn with a winding graveled drive and t&stofully- •haped beds of bright goraniums, verbena, and fbliage plants, iustead of the two long stiff rr.«H of pr-onu;^, hollyhocks, and other old- fhslnoned flowers that bprdofed the narrow plank walk from the road t:> the house. 1 One evening in the early spring when Roger was sitting in an arm-chair bv a cheerful fire, reading his paper with a good-natured look on his face, Leta ventured to broach the subject. Roger answered that he shouldn't object to trimming some of the olirnhltery, but for his part he thought the yard was well enough as it was. It would take a man more than a week to make the changes she wished, and he could find much better employment. \ Ijeta was considerably crestfallen, but not quit<i vanquished. Now that the ice was broken she would speak about the house. So die swallowed her disappointment and mus­ tered courage for another attack. "If the yard must remain as jt is, you will at least consent to improving the house a little, won't you, Roger;-" "What.improvements do yon desire*" asked .Roger, with his eyea Jlxod 011 the market col­ umn 111 his newspaper. f "Shall I tell you all;" oho said, coaxiagly. / . "Yes." "Well, in the first placo I would like an arch made lx>tween the parlor atul sitting-room, and carpet for both of a handsome design of Brussels; then I would like new wall paper and curtums, a few really good pictures, and three or four real fancy chairs." ^Anything else?" inquired Rcger, griiply. •"Yes, I am pining for a blue ingrain for my room, some pretty delicatelv-tinted paper for the lwre walls, and dotted inuslin curtains to replace these horrid green shades that make the room so dark. 1 would also like a bay window built on the east side of the dining*- room and have it filled with plants and birds.M Is that really all?" inquired Roger, witli a filightiy sarcastic accent. \ Ix'ta drew her chair nearer to her iiusband, and put a soft little hand iu his as site said: "l would like above everything else a piano." fcoger drew himself iip "m a ilignitiea man­ ner and iu a half-impatient tone said: ' Are you aware, Leta, that ail of these tilings that you speak ot would cost several hundred dollars?" I suppose so," Leta faltered, biuahingly, "but you are a rich man. aren't you, Roger?"' "Yes, I'm pivtty well oti, but 1 wouldn't be so-long if I tnrew'awjiy money in the way you suggested," answers 1 .iloger. "If tho house lacks anything that is really useful and necessary I am willing to supply the deficiency, but 1 dtecidedly object to throw­ ing awav good articles that are not half worn out. Tnese carpets and curtains were good enough for my mother and sisters, and ought to be good enough for us vet awhile." "But they are so ugly,"' sighed I^eta. "Just look at this wall papei; the colors are so bad and the pattern so ungainly that it makes the room gloomy-" * " 'The quality is vjry good and it is not much soiled," Itoger replied. Seeing Leta's downcast face, he continued: "I want to build two new barns and buy figlitv acres of land that adjoin my .farm this year. After tnat maybe we will taik^about a piano or .cabinet organ. In the mean time you had better conteut yourself with sister Mary's me­ lt Hleou. She used to play some very nice tunes 011 it." Leta's lip curled a little scornfully. Her musical taste was insulted. Sister Mary's me- lodeou was a wheezy, creaky old thing tnat had not been considered worth the transportation charges of lUi miles when sister Mary married, ten years ago. It was enough to drive to distraction any lover of music, Leta thought, but Roger coulil discern no difference between • its agonizing squeaks and gasp»and the harmonious tones of tho finest Steinway. I^eta was quite a * skillful musician for a school-girl, and a piano would have made pleasant many lonely hours. She was elected to the position of mistress of tho house, but was so in name only. Mrs. Hannah \\ atts, a iniddie-aged widow, iiad lxvn Roger's cook and housekeeper ever since old Mrs. Sherwood's health began to fail, and had become an important personage in the house-" hold. She had held sway so long that shq would by no means submit to dictation from,'if chit of a girl like Leta, who was somewliat afraid of the grim woman and felt the necessity of being very respectful, (^specially as she real­ ized lier own incompetence to do the work that Mrs. Watts did; and Roger had impressed upon her mind the. fact that another such a domes­ tic treasure could not be found Leta learned to mend Roger's socks and keep his buttons sewed on, and performed other light tasks that Mrs. Watts intimated would be in the young lady's lint*, while even thing else went on the same as before Roger's marriage. Tims Leta h^id a great deal more time on her hands than she knew how to employ satisfac­ torily. and more than is good for one of her dreamy, romantic disposition. She could not help being lonely in that quiet old house, with no one to speak "to except Mrs. Watts, who was partially deaf and at best not a very lively companion. Roger was absent at day, except the intervals when he was eating his ineals. After supper he would read his newspaper nntil precisely half-past H, then he would go his nightly rounds among his cows, oxen, and horses*. Punctually at it o'clock he would come in, puU off his boots, and go to bed. /~" I/ita wondered if life was to go on forever at a dead level, but she was a conscientious little creature and tried to make the l>est of things. She felt that her rose-tinted hopes were fading to dullest drab, that instead of being the ob- i'ect of passionate devotion she was of all her tusband's possessions the least valuable. It was in vain that she made pretty little toilets and went to meet him with her "checks pink with expectation and her eyes asking for a lover-like greeting. It was no'use for her to try to give an air of taste to the somber rooms; this practical young man had 110 time tu notice trifles. He married Leta because she was fairer, more refined, and altogether different from the other village girls, but after she was won he expected her to be happy in just the same way that they would have lieea He did not consider that a rare and dainty piece of china needed more careful handling than an earthen jar. Gradually Leta ceased the sweet devices she had used to win a smile or caress from her steady-minded husband. Since he did not notice 01; praise anything she did, or think a request of hers worth granting, what was tho use of trying? she bitterly .thought. Leta was not a natural student If she had been her books would have been a great safe­ guard to her at this time. She had been bright and quick and proud enough to wish to stand at the head of her class at school, but she did not possess the deep love of knowledge that would inspire her to continue her studies alone when her heart was slowly breaking and all in the world she wanted w as to^be fondlv loved v ssJ1 r As she was deprived of mttsie, she tried to pass away some of the time that seemed so tedious in sketching from nature aud painting in water colors, but, as she had received only a few 111011 tliB' instruction in the art, her suc­ cess was not very encouraging, she also did a little embroidery, and read eagerly all the novels she could get, alwavs preferring the gloomy kind in which tho heroine dies of a ijroken heart Affairs were in just this state when Ray Carleton, of New York, was seized with the idea of spending a few months in» the great West Before leaving home his mother pursuaded him to stop in Michigan and visit hto cousin, Roger Sherwood The young man thought it something of a bore to liuut up a country cousin, but his mother insisted that he should find out some­ thing concerning her eldest brother's family, with whom she had held no communication for years, and Rav good-naturedly yielded. One June afternoon when Leta came in from one of her long walks with her sketch-book she wan surprised to lind her husband enter taining a stranger in the "best parlor." Roger caught a glimpse of her white dress as she passed the door, called her in, and in­ troduced her in a busiuess-like way. "Leta, this is mv cousin, Ray Carleton, who has come to visit us. You must do your best to entertain him, as I am too buBy to pay him much attention." I^ta saw a tall, well-formed young man, witli a handsome debonair face, laughing blue eyes, and close-shorn chestnut locks that had a glint of sunshine in them. lie rose gracefully from the stiff hair-cloth chair and l>owed over her hand in a deferential, polished manner that was strangely in con­ trast to the blunt ways of Roger Sherwood, who lacked the coat of veneering that can only" IXJ acquired by a "man of the world," and which iioldw charm over women always/ llav Carleton s "lines had fallen in pleasant nlattes." He had wealth and education, and hd^fi never been burdened with care, like his cousin. His father was a rich middle-aged bachelor, of En­ glish descent, when he married Roger's pretty, ambitious aunt, who had l>eeu dissatisfied with country life, and managed to pick up education sufficient to enable her to nil the position of aBsistant cashier in a New York store, where she formed the acquaintance of the head of the firm and his wife. Her ancient lord looked down upon her relations, and stipulated that she should have no more to do witli them. To this arrangement she consented willmglv enough, lmt after twenty-live years had rolle'd by and she was left a widow, she felt a longing to know something of lior remaining kindred. llav Carleton was surprised to find his cousin's wife so pretty ana ladylike. Her ex - treinc youth, delieat > benuty and' great pathetic, dark blue eves made ail impression upon lain at once, and he began to think that possibly his visit woultjnot be so dull after all. Not that he meant any harm to his fair young hostess, only he liked pretty women, and his eyes had a knack of making them believe apy- t.iing his lips uttered Leta became his friend at once. He was dif­ ferent from any one she ever met. More like the heroes in her favorite books. Tlien he liked the same things she did, and told licr about the delights of a city in a way that made things seem real of which she had only dreamed He toftk her to row on the little lake near the house, and went to any amount of trouble to gather water lilies or any wild flower that she loved. 11c newr failed to notice a rose that she wore, or thank her for the slightest trouble that she took for him. He assisted her iu drawings and accompanied her in her walks, sang the latest songs, told the wittiest stories, and nude life altogether a different thing for Lota It seemed to her that he was indeed a ray of sunshine, and she was too young and inexperienced to see the danger in their pleas­ ant companionship. Roger trusted his wife completely, and was rather glad that she had taken the burden of entertaining his citified cousin off his hands. So things went 011 for a month, llav seemed to have forgotten his hurry to get to Chicago, until one day I10 received a half-angry letter from n friend witli whom I10 had arranged to meet there, urgently iuquiring the reason of his non-appearance and hoping lie was not de­ tained by illness. His friend concluded bv saying that lie/more than half suspected the delinquent "wait flirting with some fair rustic." Ray wince a little as he read the letter. He had never stopped to analyze the friendship existing between Leta and himself, or to think that lie was not acting honorably. " 'Fair rustic' is certainly not the right name for her," he thought, as Leta's madonna-liko face came before his mind, "and there is not a speck of coquetry about the dear little thing. She shows every thought in that swe^t,sensitive face of hers, and it .took but a glance for me to see that she was unhappy with that plodding cousin of mine. "It was only an act of mercy to brighten her up a bit: however," he reflectively added, "per­ haps I had better go now. If I"had met her before she was married it might have been dif­ ferent." With this worthy resolution in his mind he that night announced at their o o'clock tea his intention of leav'ing the next morning. Leta's face "suddenly lost its flush and her eyes their luster. She did not utter one word of regret. Ray saw that it was impossible for her to speak the conventional phrases that would have been bocomfcg. He kept Roger engaged in conversation, fear­ ing lest he should notice the change in his wife's face, but this was useless Ion-thought. Roger was busilv taking about liis "Sliort-horns" and "Jerseys, his immense crop of wheat, and the farm he meant to add to his. The meal that seenie'd interminable wa» over at last, and Leta fled out of the house to her favorite retreat, an old-fashioned grape arbor, in the neglected g irdea. Ray lighted a cigar and seated himself upon the* veranda with a moody look up his lmndsoiue face. He l>egan to think that lie caveted his cousin's wife, and in all lus bright, careless life he had scarcely ever lieeu denied anything ho desireit If he had met Leta when she was Miss Vance he woukhprobably not have thought of falling iu love with her--he was used to pretty girls--but as Roger's wife her life seemed so lonely, and her sweet face wore such a smil- absorbing look of pathos, that his heart was touched in a way that he considered chivalrous. L.'ta did not intentionally parade lier disap­ pointment and misery, or the pleasure Ray's society waa to her, 1r.it her face was the mirror of her heart, and R iy saw it all. He wondered if she were crying, and felt a strong inclination to go the to old arbor where he guessed she had gone. He knew that this woi.1'1 not IK? exactly a safe proceeding, but this self-indulgent young nian was not in the habit of paying much heed to conscience when it conflicted with his own pleasure. So he strolled down the garden path with 110 villainous purpose of wrecking Leta's life, only a selfish wish to know how much his friendship was prized, and minister a few words of sympathy to the unhappy child, more unkind than words of bitter hate. Thus it is that actions that change a whole life are often unpremeditated. When Ray saw Leta's hopeless, grief-stricken altitude, and sorrowful loveliness, he forget his prudence and honor. The few words of friendly sympathy he had intended to say as­ sumed the form of love-making, and in* half an hour's time he had persuaded Leta that ho could make her desolate life rich with love and gladness if she would leave her unappreciative msbaud--who he said would very composedly get a divorce; and then he vowed that she should 1K> /lis wife and that the object "of his life should be to make her happy. , This was .something like the impassioned love Leta had dreamed of and prayed for. At first she tried to resist the alluring temptation, but when she left the arbor, she had promised to forsake her unloving husband, for ;he elegant young man who swore he could not live without her. It was arranged that he should go in the morning as he had mentioned, stoi) at the town of Bradford ten miles distant, anu remain until evening, when he would drive to a secluded spot a hali-milo froni Roger's home, where Leta was to meet him. Then they would return to Bradford, leavo .the- horses and take the night express for Chicago. Roger Sherwood had Ix-en toi a distant part of his great farm to look after some sheep lie had grazing there, and was walking home tired aud dustv in the summer twilight. Two of his farm hands wens sitting under a great oak by the roadside smoking their pipes, and enjoying the rest from their labors. As Roger approached he heard his name spoken, and almost involuntarily paused "I think it would pay Mr. Sherwood to look after his pretty wife, while that slick city chap is hanging around," one of tho men was saying. "Oh, Mr. Sherwood don't care for nothing but dollars and cents. He is sharp enough that way," said the other with a laugli. "Its a wonder to me what he married that little girl for, he don't seem to think much of her. and its plain to see she has been lonesome enough to die since she came here, though she has chirked up a little lately." Roger evidently thought he liadheard enough, and walked quietly 011 without having been seen by the men who had their backs toward liini. , H<o waa angry with them for talking ao freely of his wife and himself; at the some time he felt the reproach their words conveyed. Was it true that he had neglected his young wife, and did she, too, think that ho cared for nothing but "dollars and cents?" He was not a jealous man, but he felt a little glad that his cousin's visit was so nearly at an end; then he resolved to show Leta a little more attention himself. It was late when Roger went into tho house and up stairs to his wife. He found her lying with a white, still face upon a scarcely whiter pillow. He was not sure that she was asleep, but was careful not to disturb her. That night he pondered many thingB in his mind that were not of a mercenary nature, and looked into bis heart as he had not taken the pains to do before. The next morning when Mrs. Watts called Leta to breakfast she answered that she was not feeling well and must bo excused She had not the courage to go down and meet her husband and Ray together and make a pre­ tense of bidding the later good-bye. She heard Roger say that he would drive liis cousin to the station with his favorite Bpan of black horses and light open buggy. As she peepad out through the blinds she saw the two men in the yard talking together pleasantly, heard Roger'tell Ray that he must repeat h s visit at some future "time, aud the answering promise to do so. Leta felt ashamed of such treachery, and lx>- gan to wish that she was not going * to elope. It was too lab.- to repent, she thought; and, anv- wav, her life had become intolerable. She could not endure the dull monotonous days that she had spent bjforo" Ray Carleton came, but she feared she could never be happy any­ where. An hour after Ray had gone to Leta's great surprise Roger came up-stairs and peeped in at her door., "Are you awake, Leta?" he asked, with his face uncommonly bright and young. "Yes," answered a voice from the depths of the pillows. "ls;Vour headache better?" was the next anxious query. "Not much," and Leta turned her face to­ ward the wall. She could not meet the kind eyes of her husband, and realized that the way of the trangrensor is hard. "If you don't feel too ill, I wish you would vdress, oat your breakfast and take a little ride with me. It's a spletdid morning and tho air will do vou good. I'll come back in half an hour," he added, softly closing the door. Leta sat up with lier eyes open wide in amazement. What did it mean? Such atten­ tion from Roger was new and startling. Ho had not been in the habit of asking her to go anywhere with him, and that he should neglect his work and take her for a drive this morning of all others was marvelous. "He can be so nice when lio chooses," Leta thought, as she quickly dressed and went down im tee became ! to the dining-room where Wild had I>aml just Ouildaildl » btMkfest that Lota "I didn't mean to give yon extra trouble," she said apologetically to the housekeeper, who actuary smiled as the answered: "That's noth ng. It don't happen often.** Even Mrs. Watts was trying to overwhelm her With kindness, Leta thought It was very pleasant bowling along over the country roads by her husband's side, when the (lew on the leaves and new-mown hay was only just disappearing in the bright 'sunshine, and all the birds were, holding conoert. Leta would have enjoyed it very much if she had not felt like a monstar of deceit She remembered how well she had loved Roger when she married Ium, and how happy she expected to be with him. She began to wish that Kivy Carleton had never camo with his handsome face and tender voice and made her forg 't her duty. Faintly the truth dawned upon her mind that the most wronged ami neglected wife is happier far than one who sacrifices her true woman­ hood for the most impassioned and devoted lover. ; She had not noted the miles as tho spirited horses sped owr liill and dale, ami was startle:! when they entered the town 01' Bradford. ThiB was the place Ray was to spend tho day. How dreadful it would be if they thould meet him! she thought. Roger drove up to the principal hotel of tho place, and remarked as he did so: "I think we may as well make a day of it. We'll get our dinner here, and then look around to see if wo can find a piano that will suit mv wife." It was with difficulty that Leta refrained from bursting into tears as he helped her from the buggy. There was no time to thank him, 110 time to beg him not to kill her by heaping coals of fire upon her unworthy head. She was shown into the parlor and sank upon a sofa in as uncomfortable state of mind aa one could possibly imagine. The door stood ajar and she could see" and bear two pert chambermaids who were . gossip­ ing iu the hall. I tell yon, Liz, i've made a jolly mash this morning. The tony swell that same in on the 1) o'clock train. He says I'm the handsomest girl he has seen in the \Vest. He is going to set up the ice cream to-hight. If it wasirt that he has an engagement that he can't put off he'd take me to the (lance at the l>eer garden." "Did yon find out his name?" "Yes, I looked on the register. It is Ilay Carle­ ton, New York. I tell you lie is a genuine big bug, and he said I was superior to my position here, and that he sliouldn t forgot me." I^eta sprang to her feet with lier eyes afiro and a scornful smile on her lips. This was the sort of a man for whom she had promised to* desert an honest husband At that moment she understood Ray's light, fickle character better than she had "ever done bo- fore. "It seems he^ac, make love to his cousin's wife aud the Mansion" House chambermaid within twenty-four hours," she said to her­ self. Roger came in presently and found his wife in apparently better spirits than when he left her. _ When they were seated at one of tho "tran­ sient" tables in the long dining liall, Roger was ast mished to see his cousin Ray come in with tlyit charming, graceful ease that seemed all his own and take a seat near them. "Why, Ray, I thought you were on vour way to Chicago,' said/Roger with puzzled expres­ sion on his fac„>. Ray colored painfully and almost lost his self-posession, but managed to say that1 he stepped off the train at Bradford, to speak to a friend he saw on the depot platform, and got left ^ This satisfied Roger, and he proceeded to eat his diuner in an unsuspecting way. Rav occasionally cast a questioning, reproach­ ful glance atlx-ta, who kept her eyes fixed upon her plate very fixedly, considering how Little she ate,, and ilay was left in doubt as to the turn affairs had taken. After dinner he tried to make Leta under­ stand that he wished to see her alone, but she refused to take the hint, and kept close to her husband's side. " This piqued Ray a little, and lie took his handsome nresencs out of the room. While Roger was in the office settling his ac- connt with the clerk, Leta took a blank card from her pocket-book and hastily wrote these words: "Forget if you can the foolish promieo of last evening. I bitterly regret it and hope that /we shall never meet again." Ray stood upon tho steps as Leta passed out of the hotu'l, and she managed to slip this note into his hand It may by questioned whether he was relieved, angry, or pained. Perhaps, all of these feelings were mingled. He fancied himself considerably in love with Leta--as much so as he could lie with any one woman, and his vanity was injured by here ild- lie.-ts, but he had felt ever since the morning light had sobored his senses that it was rather an awkward thing, running away with another man's wife, and that man his cousin. Upon the whole he was quite resigned with liis dis­ missal. , Leta's heart was lighter after she had with­ drawn her hasty promise, but she felt over­ whelmed with shame and self-reproach* when Roger presented her with a bill of sale of a handsome piano, and on the way home re­ marked that "alter the busy season way over he Would attend to those improvements in the house she once mentioned, and Jtjie next spring she might have the yard ti\rdto suit her." Iota's goldcu head drooped anjl littl? tears of humiliation and remorse rolled down her cheeks, as she thought how Roger would hate her if he only knew how she had intended to wrong him. * ' Roger did not for a moment guess how near lie had come to losing liis wife, but he did fear that his carelessness had repulsed her love, and that in somo way his cousm Ray had won it. A hotter-tempered man would have been consumed with jealousy, but he calmly looked back over his short married life and judged himself the most severely. He saw that he had been throwing away a pearl of great price, and began to understand how niucli his girl-wife was to him. With tho patience and perseverance that were character­ istic, ho resolved to win her heart anew. There was more excitement in the strife, than in the easy days w-hctnhe was her lover. Leta suffered as only a\ sensitive,---imaginative woman can suffer. Every act of^undness, everv thoughtful, loving-word.ar caress from her husband, pierced Iter heart like a knife, and made her think how different it would be if he knew all. She felt that she had no right to his affection until ho did know, and then she had no doubt that he would put her from him in coldness and anger. Her husband's devo­ tion was such a new-born thing, that she could not hope that I10 would understand and for­ give her wore she to confide in him. So she bore the burden of her secret through slow, weary days and nights. Roger saw the change in her. It seemed as if all the brightness of youth had faded from her face. Her eves, that were like blue hyacinths in color, * grew larger and darker, and her face whiter every day, and his heart sank within him. Could it be, thought he, that this young wife of his wliom he had just begun to cherish as I10 should, was dying for love' of his cousin, Ray Carleton? It was the eve of their marriage anniversary. Roger came and Btood by his wife as she sat in the gathering darkness of an autumn evening, with sad eyes and hands clasped listlessly iu her lap. "Leta," said he, looking at her wistfully, "shall we give- a littio festival to-morrow in liodor of our marriage? I hope to- make the coming year happier for you that the past has been." She drew away the hand that he had taken, a brilliant color flamed in her. cheeks and her heart throbbed chokingly, hut a courage that that was half desperation shone in her eyes as she passionately said: "Never say another kind word to me until you know me as I am." Then clearly and without reservo she told the story of her marriod life; lier dissappoiut- ment because her husband did not love lier enough, her efforts to please him which never seemed to succeed, her great loneliness, and lastly Ray's interest and love-making, which was such a temptation that she had yielded at the- time^but woefully repented afterwards. "I do not expect vou to forgive me," she said in conclusion, "but I could not deceive you anv longer. I will go away if vou wish, but I shall alwayB love my husband. Roger took her close in his arms with a clasp that meant pardon twid peace, and above all love, as ho fond y said: "I blame myself too much, dear, to be unfor­ giving to yon. Let u» forget all past troubles in the joy of a new bridal. Thus it was that Ko:'er and his w ife under­ stood each other and lived very happily, not­ withstanding the unfavorable* predictions of the Dorcas Society, and Miss Amelia Todd in part cnlar, who maintained that Roger might have been a much richer man if lie had only mafried sensibly. There were, liowever, many who said that he was more agreeable and popular in the character of a genial, whole-souled gentleman, than in the days when he gave his whole heart and energy to the getting of "dollars and cents." Instead of boarding all liis wealth or eagerly grasning after his neighbors' farms^ie beauti­ fied nis lioine and enjoyed with his young wife the income of tho fortune for which he had toiled BO hard. TJtAlfflRO OP BIRDS. WHEN the heart is fall the lips are silent. When a man is full it is differ- ent. A H0BB1CAMS UO«M eighty miles per hOUr.* •; • ' :pp ; reaching Canary Birds to Stay for the Last Twenty Years. have been teaching canaries to sing for twenty years," said George Horst, of 905 Leithgow street. "Be­ ginning in a very modest way, I have increased the number of my yellow- feathered pupils nntil now I have'300 birds a year vpass through my hands, all of whom receive tho benefit of my musical tuition. I teach the birds tq sings 'water rolls,' 'silver rolls.' 'pipe notes,' 'half rolls,' 'full rolls,' and 'trills.' In addition to this, some of my most accomplished canaries are taught to sing (ierm&n airs as correctly as any cantatrice, aj&d such American tunes as Yankee Dooflle. "You ^oyld like to know whether I find mucli^ifiicuHy in instructing the birds in singing. Well, not so mucli now. There is a method in it, the result of many veers of experiment. I know now how to put a yellow-feathered songster through his paces, FO to speak, until he learns how to warble. "The first great thing in producing a fine singer is to stark with first-class stock. I am so careful in this point that I would not take an ordinary $10- canary out.jaf'tbe bird-shops as a gift, because his few mild notes would spoil my whole collection, all of which are raised from the purest strains in ca- narydom. I obtained, when I began the business, some of the most magnifi­ cent singers in Germany, and crossed these high-bred birds with the best-se­ lected American stock, and the result was birds so faultless that I have never tried to improve them--only to keep up the standard. I give the greatest attention to weeding out all birds in my collection which display any ten­ dency to utter wild notes, and if I find such a canary I would give him away immediately, if I could not sell him. Of course I am sometimes obliged to get new birds, and I do get some from a man who has many of the finest spec­ imens now imported, but these are only females for breeding purposes to cross with my males. "How do I teach the birds to sing? They are first put into a large, light cage, in bunches of a dozen or fifteen, when they are past their moulting--sav when tliey are six to eight months old. The cageful of infant canaries is put in a room where a bell-clock is continu­ ally rolling out melodious, rippling song. Tho music of the clock starts the canaries to singing, in diilerent styles, and in a few weeks they trill, roll, and warble as clearly as tho lark in a green meadow. They are allowed to kedp up their chorus in the cage for some time, in unison with the bell- cloclt, and the birds are separated and placed in dark cages. These cage? be­ ing made of solid wood, with only small ventilators to give the birds fresh air, shut out all distracting sights and sounds, and, to keep up their spirits probably, they s ng as loudly as possi­ ble, reeling off trills and rolls and orig­ inal roundelays by the hour. When they becomo constant singers in the dark cages I consider the education of the birds ended. "That is, generally; for there are some birds BO highly gifted with the sense of song that their proficiency may be greatly increased, and with these I pursue a long course of train;, ing. They are taught to sing pipe notes, short melodies, by being placed in a solitary while I play sofily the same tune, constantly repeated upon a small silver whistle. When the birds have acquired all that is possible in "pipe tones they are placed awhile be­ side an old canary, famous for its sing­ ing, and in this position they soon get the secret of their fellow's Binging. Then, if they are to be drilled in sing­ ing melodies, they are taken into a room and kept there alone, wh-ile the tune to be taught them is played again and a^ain, in the morning and evening, upon a musical instrument--generally a small organ. The education of cana­ ries cannot be oarried much farther after they learn to sing two or three tunes, but a few of them can be taught to music*. "Do I have any difficulties in train­ ing birds to sing? Any amount of them. Sometimes I breed a bird lhat will not sing at all--cannot be made to sing, and all the patience and time wasted on such a creature is clear loss. Then not one canary out of six can be taught to sing a tune, and as yon don't know which one that is until you try, much of your timd\goes for nothing. If a bird hanging in (6 win<low hears an­ other bird sing a < wild hote, he will catch those wild iot<|3 immediately, and no amount of correction will cure. Iiim. A canary is just like a child: it will earn all the bad trickft possible, and this is the great point we have to guard against. Sometimes a canary three months old can be taught to sing; again a 9-months-old bird will not war­ ble a note, and the difference in the length of time necessary to complete a canary's education varies from six to twelve weeks.--Philadelphia News. Clever Theories About Olpas. The mineralogists and geologists have offered many very clever theoriuH to account for the splendor of the opal, but no one has completely satisfied everybody £nd perhaps never will. It is conjectured that it is duo either to the presence of water in its composi­ tion, or to the disintegration of the laminae or layers of stone, but even this is not certainly known. The Turks believe that the gem is of celes­ tial origin, and thus esoape all difficul­ ties at onoo. The ancient opal mines have never been discovered, but thero were no donbt deposits of the precious stones in Arabia, Syria, and perhaps other parts of Asia, from which tho ancients obtained their gems. Central America and Mexico abound in opal bearing distiicts, which are much more abundant than might be supposed; but perhaps the finest opals in the present day are obtained in Hunzary, The fire opal is found in the greatest perfection in the porphy- rite rocks near Zimapan, in Mexico; but while this variety is the most beau­ tiful of opals, it is also the most sensi­ tive, and is frequently ruined beyond hope of repair by damp or exposure, or even by a sudden change in the weather. There is probably no gem, however, which is more subject to in­ jury than the opal. Exposure to the light injures it very materially A though there is not one thing strange about this, the fact being true that also of the amethyst, the garnet and almost all other precious colored stones. As stated, the finest opals ara now found in Hungarian mines. When first extracted 'from their matrix the gems are soft, friable, tender, and easily broken. The final thing to l>e done is to expose them to the air and light for a few days, until they have become hard, and then their colors begin to ap­ pear. At the same time this1 change takes place in the gem it becomes also reduced in size from the eyaporation of the quarry water contained in its I veins. Gereat care must be exercised 1 in drying the atone or it will split and crack in a thousand directions and b» come thoroughly worthless. It i> also liable to another calamity if exposed to a high temperature-- that is of loling iridescence, and when this once hap­ pens the stone is absolutely worthless. --6L Louis Glo be-Dem ocra t. A Retreat for Xild>LniiatiQb fhcre are asylums enough, and re­ treats galore for that unhappy class of society who are recognized as having definitely p^ted company with their wits, but thv "^e is, unfortunately, still lacking a satisfactory place into which may be gathere l\the mild lunatics. There is, however, po other class of human beings who contribute so largely to the disorganization and dis­ comfort of society/who are the cause of more objurgation, who more of:en clog the wheels of progress and are, in general terms, more obnoxious to the peace apd well-being of their fellow mortals than these same mild lunatics. 'I he varieties of mild lunatics, and, of course, of their offensiveaess, cover an equally wide range. Some are merely amusing, or merely irritating to diseased or unstrung nerves, as the harmlessly idiotic dudes who wander io and fro in the corridors of the thea­ ter, or stare vacantly lrom club win­ dows. Others are more generally ag­ gravating, as the couBin who asks ad­ vice, and then, when by an absolute disregard of it she has got herself into some intolerable entanglement, throws herself upon your mercy because she has had the benefit of your counsel before embarking upon the enterprise which has ended so disastrou-sly. There is, too, the individual who al« ways,contrives, with an ingenuity which is little short of supernatural, to mis­ understand everything which is said or done, and who gdes through life plac­ idly creating confusion and embro^lios with a serene consciousness of having done his whole duty in a dull and un­ comprehending world. What busy man has not found that he was obliged to oxpend more energy in rectifying the errors of mild lunatics who failed to comprehend the most obvious facts and directions than in attending to all the legitimate calls of his business. It is not customary, it is true, to con­ sider all tliesa and the many allied sortd of people as non compos mentis- but they are certainly, to bo regarded as subject to a sort of mild lunacy which makes it desirable that they should be restrained from hindering the work of the world. The business man who habitually hinders his em­ ployes, puts all possible obstacles m the way of their usefulness, is jealous of their success, can certainly not be looked upon as sane since he is work­ ing not only against their interests but against his own. He manifestly should bo treated as one mentally diseased, and a place should be provided where he might be comfortable yet be pre­ vented from being a drag upon the wheels of progress; and the retreat for mild lunatics would be precisely the place to which to send him. The wo­ man who keeps her household always in disorder and discomfort by the in­ dulgence of her whims and oddities cannot always be sent upon long visits, and for her too the retreat would afford an excellent abiding place. Of course much discretion would have to bo used in deciding what de­ gree of crankiness should be consid­ ered as entitling a person to the privi­ leges of retreat, but there are enough mild lunatics whose friends would be unanimous in voting them proper sub­ jects for retirement to make the suc­ cess of the retreats assured from the start. Capital and philanthropy might undertake this admirable work to­ gether, and the result upon the welfare of society would be simply. incalcula­ ble.--Boston Courier. Panl Jones. . On the Southern coast of Scotland, near the Firth of Solway, where lived a boy by the namei of John Paul. He early had a passionate love for the sea, and at the age of 12 began his life as a sailor. After many adventttres he finally came to Virginia, just as the war was breaking ont between England and |he Colonies, and for some unknown cause changed his name to Paul Jones. His impulsive nature at once sympa* thized with the American cause, and, offering himself for service, he was commissioned as a Lieutenant in the Navy. He began his career with all the energy of his fiery nature. It was his hand, so |he. story goes, that raised the first American flag, and his gallant daring soon won him a Captain's commission. After several victories he was for a time inactive, in hopes of obtaining a better command. But his restless na­ ture soon became impatient at the de­ lay, and sailing with a single vessel to the liritish coast, he began his dashing exploits, swooping down, in his wild (light, on castle and town, lie Mpread terror throughout England and Scotland. Finally ho obtained, through the as­ sistance of Frunce, the command of a squadron of five vessels, and started on his eventful cruise. His successes sprang up all over the seas, and in less than a month he had captured twenty- six vegseis. But he achieved the great­ est victory when his squadron fell in with an English fleet off the coast of Scotland. The li^iit was terrific, can­ nonade followed cannonade in the ter­ rible struggle for mastery. It was when Jones' ship was already leaking and many of his men disabled, that all the grandeur of his persevering brav­ ery broke out in the reply: "I have not yet begun 1o fight," when asked if he had "struck his colors," and bring­ ing his vessel alongside of his antagon­ ist, he lashed them together and gained the victory jnst as his vessel was ready to sink. This contest won him the highest honor and admiration. The king of France presented him with a gold swoi d, and Congress ordered a medal to be awarded him for his bravery. Not only did his victories have a great effect on the final event of the war, but they helped to rouse France to the as-istance of the American cause, and awakened new hope within the Americans themselves. At the close of the war he entered for a time in the service of Russia, and finally in 1792, at, Paris, his life, rest­ less as tho sea he loved, found its quiet death. IT is no more possible for an idle man to keep together a certain stock of knowledge than it is possible to keep together a stock of ice exposed to tho meridian. Every day destroys a fact, a relation, or an influence; and the only method of preserving the bulk and value of the pile is by constantly adding to it LIFE should be our only and_ great regard, for the first office of wisdom Js to give things their due valuation, to estimate aright how much they are worth; and the second is to treat them according to their worthiness. A BAGGED edge--The tramp's as­ sault on the lunch counter. FASHIONABLE waves often carry woi*-* men on a sea of trouble.--Maverick. % A LIGHT suit--that brought against" ft country paper for libel. --Maverick* , SOME men will take more time t^% name a dog than others would spend" in building a houso.--Chicago Ledger, WHEN Fogg stood watching the weighing of his Sunday roast he re­ marked that he felt like Ajax defying the lightening. SWEDEN is a good cattle country, be* cause there the animal never strays, the cattlemen always finding tkeir Stockholm.--Folio. t- rK "TELL me, Thomas, how manv vov» ages around the world did Capt. Cook make ?" "Three." "Correot. And on which of these voyages was he killed, --Puck. A POEM OF- LIFE. There was a young girl cooked and IroaU And she with hard luck was environ'd J, » - But her soul was made glad ^ ^ When she put in an ad. And found out next dav she was hiren'A. "V-•'* --St. Louis Post-Dispatch. IT is rumored that one of our maga* zines next year will publish an Ameri> : can novel, the scene of which is not; laid in Boston; but it is not safe to be^ lieve such wild rumors until they ax* verified--NorristOwn Herald. THE stingiest man on record lives Hart County. It is sworn to and subl ; scribed to by many witnesses that h«: always gets behind a tree t'S look at lii|" watch for fear some one will ask him the time of day.--Hartwell (G'a.) Sutu THE Enquirer overheard a little 5» ' year-old girl say to its mother: "Mother. I believe God thinks I'm dead." "Why. asked the mother, somewhat astonished at the remark. "'Cause I haven't sauL my prayers for a ^reek."--Richmond (Ind.) Enquirer. A W AHSAW surgeon recently coin*- mitted the mistake of removing th# wrong eye from a patient, a young girl. He probably tried to console hi* patient by assuring her that he was bound to get the right one next time. --Norristoicn Herald. i AN old gentleman who recently died in Plymouth called his son to his bed*' side u few moments before be expired and, bidding him good-by, requested him to place a few hand-grenades iij; his coffin, as ho might possibly find: some use for them hereafter.--Boston Gazette. LIFE'S UPS AND DOWNS. - f In life we meet with joy and woe. ^ Where'er on earth we go, A mixture of the good and bad-- -s; Fate wills it should be so. Just in tho flush of our success ^ Reverses kill our joy, "h, But f»w of us have the ups and downs ' Of tho elevator boy. w\ --Boston Courier. r *, "Now, YotT young scamp," said Blinks, Sr., as he led his youngest out into the woodshed and prepared t<|- ? W give him a , dressing-down, "I'll teach' - • you what is what." "No, pa," replied " ; v the incorrigible, "you'll teach me whicli „ <:"i is switch." And then the old man'f A hand fell powerless to his side.--# Evangelist. "I ALWAYS supposed he was a good ' friend of mine." "Nobody says hf- isn't." "But you speak as though yoil thought he wasn't." "Well, perbapi he is, and perhaps he isn't." "Yo«|^ worry me greatly. How am I to find ou|r whether he is realjy my friend or not?* "Well, I reckon "you might make i starter in that direction by trying to borrow five dollars of him."-- Chicago' Ledger. SCENE, vestibule of a Templei of Al»'. cohol, Hanover street Barkeeper-- "No--election-day. You can't buy any • liquor." Thirsty Citizen--"Tfien I'l|; go for biennial elections." Barkeeper--* "And there's the special election com*a ing, and after that the city elections Hang me if these elections will let uijK' make a cent." Thirsty Citizen (huskilyjN --"Biennial. Confound them, I'll go " to make them centennial!"--Boston Journal. HER LITERARY TASTE. They'sat in the library above, And thoy gazed at the hundreds of books, , And she cave, in exchange tor his sighing, . The sweetest and bhyest of looks. "'Here are volumes of very great value, " t," And you," he remarked, "well versed; Now, supposing a fire should break out here Which book would you try to save first?" "I would siezo"--anil she crew quite excited And then she grew terrible calm-- "I would size papa's pocket-book first, sir; , " That's the kind of a l>ook-wonnI arn-t" '. --Columbus (O.) Dispatch. HE is a poor financier who borrows : trouble. A Sioux chief is learning to. - ride a bicycle, and the final extermina­ tion of the aboriginal race is now only a question of time. "All I want is jus­ tice," said the tramp. "Three months," said the Justice. Advice to butcher-- If a man refuses to pay his bill for mutton--suet. Eternal indigestion is the price of pie. A petrified mule hoof lias been found in Pennsylvania. This surprises us. We had no idea a mule could keep its hoof still long enough f^r that.--New York Graphic, . Alter Many. Days. ^ On.a Michigan Central train a prom* inent citizen of Deiroit, who had a seat in the smoking-car, crossed over , to a young man who was vigorously puffing away and asked for a light. The favor was granted, and the prom- inet Detroiter observed: "Live in the city!" "Yes." "Going to Chicago?" "Yes."' Aren't you in the grocery.business?" "No, sir." "Ah! I thought I had met you be- ' fore at some time or other. Your face looks familiar." "I--I used to court your daughter I" stammered the young man. "Oh-ho! About three years ago?" "Yes." "And I gave you the bounce?" "You did." "Ah! I believe I do recall the cir­ cumstance. I don't know but I kicked you?" "Yes. you did I" "Ah I Well, I bounced and kicked so many that I can't tyeexpected to re­ member names and faces. I take ad- van tago of this occasion to beg your pardon and hope you've fully recovered from the effects. Have a cherQot?"--- Detroit Free Press. An Agent Who Does a Dig Ifnsiness. Mrs. Odds--"And so you've broken up housekeeping, have you ? You were beautifully situated, and it seems such a pity to have to give it all up." Mrs. Ends--"Yes, I was very much opposed to it, out Henry thought it best, and so we moved into this board­ ing houso. Oh, we like it very well j, here." Mrs. Odds--"And all your beaulful things--I suppose are stored away?" Mrs. Ends--"Oh, yes; Henry got the ; Sheriff to take charge of them for him. He's a great friend of Henry's."--Tid*. hits. .. • • , WHEN a man dies in Andaman, So- ! ciety Islands, they payit him red, white, and blue, so great is their respect for the • ' a . S'