THE DAILY "EVENING TI 3 .K G I J Til PHILADELPHIA , TUESDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1867. XOMEB 01) 1" V ,STO CX1NG BY MIPS OLIVE LOGAN. - 1. WTIERBTIIE ST(KK1J(7 I1PNO. The Stocking hung on the door-post of a little room iu tho fourth story of a respectable trjiuiit-hoQse not far from the great tbeatrea of Uroartway. It was fasterici to tho door-post ly an Iron fork, which pierced the delicate meshes with Its cruel pronza. , It was ft Blocking of thread loo thin and ne to he worn at the chilling Chria ma sea Bon; and it was ny to see that it belonged to ft shapely ankla and a tiny foot. The tenants of the building, thoy passed tr and saw it hanging there, looked at it curi ously but nobody touched it or thought of putting anything in it, till at last Jack came 'jafk slopped when he came along. "Well, I vow," said Jack, with an air of never having seen such an extraordinary affair hefore, "here's Somebody's Stocking 1" Whose f h 1 that was the very question Jack asked limb-elf "WhoBe ?" How what was it which made Jack's memory go wandering Lack through the shadows of the dead and gone past, at sight of Somebody's Stocking hanging by Somebody's door ? It did go wandering back, that is certain, and the result of its wanderings was that Jack heaved a sigh, and again asked Limaelf, "Whope?" A woman's, of course. That was clear enough. And a pretty woman'B, of course ; for it was not possible that this fine, white, shapely stocking belonged to a woman with, an ugly face and an ill formed ankle and a clumsy foot. "It is just tho Stocking," thought Jack, still standing in the growing shadows, aud looking at it, "that She might have worn." lie sighed again as he thought of her, aud again his memory wont wandering back through the shadows of the dead and gone l'ast, and showed him her picture as she was when they were children together, and when she hung her stocking out in the little door porch, in the old village, for him to sea and to put some sugar-plums in, as he did. And once more he sighed, as he wondered where phe was whether she was living still, or whether the daisies in the village grave yard were growing over her. "Why," he said at last to himself, necos parily to himself, for there was no one else present to ear it to "why, in all my journeyings about tho world, does her face jouruey always with me ? and why do I linger so lovingly over my thoughts of her when the Christmas time comes round? and what," and here he looked again at the door-post, "has Somebody's, or anybody's, Stocking to do with her ?" And then Jack thoughfthat if he had a wife to love and to cire for, he might forget her, and all about her, and nevermore do such a foolish thing as to linger over a mere Stocking on Somebody's door-post. lie thought he would go away, and not he foolish any more; and as he was going he said and this was being more foolish than ever: "Perhaps I might marry the owner of the Stocking." Foolish indeed ! To marry a girl because, and only because, you are pleased with her Stocking were certainly the depth of the foolish and the height of the absurd. For, after all, this Somebody might be the respectable but red-faoed Irish washerwoman he met sometimes on the stairs. Oh I most decidedly, Jack couldn't marry a washer woman; for Jack was an artist, in his way, and a very good way it was, in his opinion. And besides, tho washerwoman was already married. So that settled that matter. 2. WHAT WAS IN IT. Nothing. Mot a thing. "Whoever this Somebody was, she had found no admirerB to put presents in her Christmas Stocking. She had hung it there, he could well imagine, in a hopeful, childish way, believing perhaps in me eweei dui stupid iauacy ot Kriss Kringle and perhaps when the Christ inas should be gone, and Bethlenam's Star ehonld have ceased to shine, and the Sun of wiekedness and greed should have arisen in the great city, she would find her stocking as she loft it. Empty I Ah t that would be sad I Well, we all have our disappointments in this weary world. We set our hopes on an object of desire; we long for it wearily and anxiously; we train our vines patiently, care fully, certain that they will bear the fruit for which we yearn; and then (Elank, if you please: To the prinUr.) It is blank, whether we please or no. I, being a woman with a woman's weakness, fall in love with a man who vows he loves me, and will be true to me to-day and to-morrow and to all eternity. lie is true to me to-day; but when to-morrow comes, without at all waiting for eternity, he has married a girl for her money and left my poor heart yearning wearily after (Another blank, if you please.) You, being a man, with your strong brain and your desire for distinction, pursue the phantom Fame or the firefly Fortune, giving to the chase all there is in you of energy, will, determination, power, and when you catch the brilliant thing that has lured you, you find it less than a phantom, less than a firefly; a tub-hie, which bursts at your touch, and is like the Stocking, Empty 1 3. sugar rxnMB. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling ! Thank goodness for it 1 lown comes the curtain. Oh what f It must go up again T Yes, the audience wants another look at the transformation scene. "Attitudes 1" cries the prompter, and claps his hands. Kitty lifts her gilded vase on a level with her black eyes, points her unmoving finger at it, and up the curtain goes, while the lights blaze, and tho pedestals turn slowly and the orchestra drones its intoxicating mnsio. Jack resolved that the Stocking should nt long remain empty. Why should Somebody he disappointed altogether, when a trifle the merest trifle would perhaps fill her young heart with happiness f Young r Oh, that question was settled long ago. Young of course. Somebody was as fair as her Stocking was white, as fine in quality as a woman as her Stocking was as a Stocking. So now to nullify its emptiness to fill the auuiu which nature abhors in 6to kings. He drew a silver dollar from his pocket: he looked around In the growing gloom to be sure that nobody was watching him; he opened the fitoeklng wide at the top Hark I Somebody coming I Jack suddenly changed his mind and walked quickly away np to his room, shutting the door after him with a bang. XubUsbed by Ilia American Kcw Company. At hot it is over. Down tby oome off the pKlettals all the failles and all the water-vt-riW's; released from his position is Harle quin; off came Pantaloon's false nose and chin; and Clown facetlonnly at,k Columbine if she wonl l not like to piny it all over, Just for fun. "Lndies sud gentlemen I" All btand motionless, for this is the voice of the ftage-Biansger. "Ladies and gentlemen, the evening per formance begins at half-past seven )--cisely. An ten minutes' grace" The ladies and gentlemen shrug their shoulders fit this announcement, and one of the ladies, who takes in plain sewing, which she does between the waits, says to one of the geutlenieu, who belongs to a fire company in the liowpry, that she always did despise these matinee performances, and always shall. "Speak well of the bridge that carries you over," replies the gentleman. "As Pooth did of his nose till the bridge of it got broken," says Clown, who will have his joke. "What time is it?" auks somebody. "A quarter to six," replies somebody else. "My goodness t We never shall have time to go home and get dinner 1" "Dinner!" echoes Tantaloon, who is cast for the hoavy parts as a general thing, and has a great contempt lor himself in the Christmas pantomime, where he does little but get knooked down, and be helped up, and bawl and grimace over Lis petty woes. "Dinner I You think of dinner I of the revenge 1 Ha, ha-a-a-al" and he strides behind the wings. "I'd like to revenge myself on a good fat turkey," says Columbine. "What is Christ mas without a turkey V "Kxactly I Also, what is home without a mother f" Nobody seems inclined to answer these per tinent queries, and the Christmas players go thronging towards the dressing-rooms. "Oh, say 1" Clown ppeaks. "Suppose we send and get something to eat, and have it in the green room ?" "Agreed," says a voice. "Agreed," says another voice, in a higher key. "A-a-ngreed !" is given in the well-known strain of ilecate, and instautly joining hands the player3 form a ring, dancing wildly, and Binging in unison for their own private diver sion that which they have often sung for the diversion of the public. "Around, around ! Around, around I About, about ! About, about 1 All ill keep running, Running in t All good keep 'out 1" "Stop I" roars Pcintaloon. "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes 1" It proves to be the leading man, the poetical Hamlet, about whom all the Fifth Avenue girls are raving, who openB the back door and stalks in with an um brella under his arm, overshoes on his feet, a yellow-covered play book iu his hand, and a cold in his head. "You're earning your sal easy," says Clown to him with some reproaoh. "I earn it hard enough the rest of the year," says Hamlet; "it would be a pity if I couldn't nest wheu the Christmast pantomime is on." Put the Clown does not hear what Ilamlet says, for the words are drowned in another wild chorus of the circling ring: "Send down Sal I Send down Sal I Send down Sala-ree.'" "Something too much of this," says the tragedian with a frown, "What says the king ?" "The king says he's hungry. Where's the call boy ? Let's send him out. What shall it be f Oysters f" "Ay, my good lord V "Fried oysters, SmirkinB" to the call-boy "and let 'em be hot." All adjourn to the green room, except the call-boy, who disappears into the street. Smirkins is a boy of twenty-nine or thirty, who has been in love so many times that his face is seamed with lines of care, and a great Woe sits ever on his unhappy brow. Smirkins has been in love with all the tragedy queens known to fame, and a large number of the ballet girls whom fame has never deigned to know. In the case of the tragedy queens Smirkins' love is a thing of sighs and glances and unspoken distress. In the case of the ballet girls Smirkins love dares to find voice; but that does not seem to help the matter greatly. At present, Smirkins is desperately in lore with Kitty King, of the ballet, who is very sorry for Smirkins, but does not care a rush for him. Put at present Smirkins is buried . in the depths of an oyster cellar, in quest of oysters fried. "Poo! boo! how cold it is!" cries Colum bine, who has been in her dressing-room and got a shawl. "I do wonder what people want to come out to the theatre for in such bitter weather as this and on Christmas Day too 1" "To be sure," answers Harlequin, who is of English birth, and who, according to his own account, has passed the whole of his lue prior to his nniortunaie step iu coming to America in dancing before the Queen and the rest of the royal family. "In Heng land no one thinks of going to the theater hon a Christmas." 'Wiftt'a boxintr nicht f" asks Clown. :The night harfter, to be sure 1 And harn't they a jolly crowd then T" No one seems disposed to answer this ques tion, for at the moment reenter Smirkins, with oysters fried, followed by a waiter heavily laden. "All hail, Smirkins 1" Shout unanimous. "You're very good, Mr. Smirkins," says Kitty King, and Smirkins colors violently and joylully. "The labor we delight in physics pain," answers the call-boy, who is ambitious to be an actor, but whose histrionic triumphs are as yet restricted to appearing before the curtain between acts, for the purpose of taking up carpets, removing fragments of letters, and the like, on which occasions he is wildly cheered, and boisterously addressed as "Supel Supe !" greatly to his annoyance. "Why there's nothing to drink out of I" la ments Columbine plaintively. "There's the goblets we use in Macbeth." This by the property-man, who stands lean ing against the door-post with a paper cap on his head and a patch of gilding on his nose. The offer is altogether facetious, for the gob lets are made of pasteboard, and will hold nothing but emptiness. "Maobeth's goblets 1" roars Ilamlet, who is also Macbeth as frequently as the publio will poshibly stand it. "Macbeth's goblets to thiuk beer on of T Oh, to what base uses we may return, Horatio I" "Certainly," answers Clown. " Great Alexander stepped a beer barrel." "So would you," returns Pantaloon, "if you could get a chauce with your mouth at the lung-hole." "Caitiff I" roars the Clown with his mouth full of oysters fried. And Kilty King laughs merrily. "How wns j onr house this afternoon f" in quires the tragedian in a contemptuous tone. "Splendid," is the reply. "Splendid, eh f" responds the leading man. "Ah well t Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw ! The publio taste is sadly deterio rating. Why don't they patronize the legiti mate f Why won't the publio rush to see my 'L( ar' for two years at a Btietch V "Ah, that would be rather stretching good nature," says Clown. "The publio would have to be as crazy as 'Lear' was, to do such a thing," says Pantaloon. "Shut np ! perturbed spirit," growls the tragedian; "and give ns a sup of your beer." Suite of quibble ana retort, it is easy to per ceive that there is no ill-feeling here, avid that a spirit of jollity such as is seldom to be met with elsewhere is prevalent. I think the actor chcz lui, if an actor may be said to have a chcz lui, is a very different creature to that which he appears chcz the superficial and unprofessional observer. Ihe superficial and unprofessional observer may judge the actor to be a stupid and unin teresting creature oft the staee. He may wonder where that genius is hidden which shines out so brightly before the footlights. He may even doubt the existence of that genius, and be inclined to reconstruct his former opinions concerning it. Ihe truth is that a good actor on the stage is generally a poorer actor off it than any man in society. He is reticent In speech, often awk ward in bearing. Perkins, who is in the dry goods line, quite eclipses him in all the small graces. Medon, the wine merchant, who never read a play of Shakespeare's quite through in his life, spout b bad poetry among his friends till they all think he would have made a better actor than the professional now delighting the town, who sits by in silence while Medoo airs his abilities. Possibly even the professional himself thinks so. But put the actor among his fellows and his fellowesses and believe me, he will in stantly become quite a sparkling and romantic creature, from whose tongue drop constant gems. Among those who can quote back at him, the actor does not hesitate to quote freely. Oive him Milton and he re sponds with Shakespeare. Give him Pope and he returns you Pyron. And with his quotings he will mingle an everyday jargon which shall be full of humor, and often even of wit. Mrs. fciddona stabbed the potatoes. My tragic friend Uno, who plays "Macbeth" so well, always murders a "Duncau" when he carves his Christmas turkey. Lut bless you, there is no Christmas turkey here ! And what is more "Now then I Lively 1 Everybody to begin !" The prompter is bawling in at the green room door. Half-past seven already ! "And so ends my holiday hour this blessed Christmas 1" murmurs the pretty ballet girl, Kitiy King, whom the call-boy Smirkins so strongly affects, but who heeds not his affection. The curtain is np, and Kitty is on with the rest. "What did you find in your stocking, Sugar plums ?" whispers the call-boy in her ear in one or her waits. Kitty starts with surprise. "Wko told you to call me Sugar-plums I" she says. "My heart," says Smirkins, sighing heavily, and placing his hand over his watch-pocket. "No offense, I hope ?" "You surprised me so," says Kitty; "for that is what I used to be culled when I was a little girl." "Would we had met in that happy day," says Smirkins with another sigh. "As for the Stocking," says Kitty, "there waT nothing in it." "But you did not take it down?" says Smirkins. "No." "Don't then. Let it hang. Sometimes Santa Glaus comes along on Christmas night. You'll find something in it to-morrow morn ing." "Ladies of the ballet !" cries the prompter. "Ladies of the ballet !" echoes the call-boy. Kitty being one of the ladies of the ballet, goes off with the rect in the glare of the foot lights again. Smii kins mutters to himself, as he walks away, "I'll put something in her stocking, if I have to steal the money to buy it with." A wicked and most inexcusable resolve, you think; but then, perhaps you never have been so much in love as Smirkins was or at least so often. At last came the transformation scene again, and standing on her pedestal as it went round and round, with nothing to do bnt point at her gilded vase and retain her attitude, Kitty King thought again of that fool ish Stocking on the door post. Oh, no doubt it was a very foolish Stooking, or at least she had been very foolish to. hang it there. But the truth is that when she Iras a child not very long ago Kitty lived in a pleasant little village where it was the custom to hang your stock ice on the door-post. Yes; bnt those village girls with whom it was the custom had fathers and mothers, and brothers and Bisters. Kitty had none. And some of them the big girls had beaux. Kitty had one. Smirkins. Not muoh of a one, but all she had. She didn't think much of him. In the first place, Smirkins was too old to Suit Kitty's fastidious taste. In the next place, Smirkins was nothing but a call-boy, and rather a stupid call-boy at that, and in capable of taking care of himself, let alone a wife. In the next place, Smirkins was always falling in love with somebody or other, and making a fool of himself in the most unblush ing manner. Ob, decidedly Smirkins was too -ridiculous ! Besides, he was not a thoughtful beau. Ha always went off to his lodgings as soon as the peifornianoe was over, and lelt her to go home alone. To be sure, she had once told him she preferred to go home alone, for he was tiresome; but if he were anything but a ridiculous, foolish, and altogether incapable Smirkins, he would never have been frightened away by that I That nicht when she crept home tired, weary, with aching feet and throbbing tem ples, she glanced at the Stocking as she went into ner room, but did not tkke It down. "For," said she, "Christmas is not over bhe was mistaken. A steeple clock ringing midnight chimes told her she was mistaken. Christmas was over. "Well," she said, shivering a little with the cold, "I'll leave it till morning anyhow." And as Smirkins locked np the stage manu scripts he said to himcelf that be would go right down and put tonething in her Stocking, if it were nothing more than a iumuiug-jackt Ava men rmii Kins went home ani torgc-v all about it because the weattiur was an awfully cold. 4. jumping: jack. If the theatre was crowded on Christmas day and evening, the cirons .was absolutely packed. "What a house !" said the ringmaster to Mr. Merryman, in a whisper. "Pei feet knocker IV said Mr. Merryman to the ringmaster, in another whisper. The performance was reeeived with such cheers and such shouts I The wonderful Mon sieur Jacques had half a dozen bunches of flowers thrown to him. The wonderful Monsieur Jacques, as he was called in the circus bill, was the champion leaper of the circus. He could leapovcr sixhorses all standing side by side aud turn a somer set in the air, coming down in the ring on his feet. lie could jump over the heads of two men, one on the other's shoulders, without brushing a hair of the head over which his feet skimmed. He could turn two somersets in the air at once, as easily as you can turn over this page. He could jump twelve feet and thirteen inches on a dead level without any spring-board or any run for the start. Oh, a wonderful man was Monsieur JaoqneB. lie was not a Monsieur, however, and his name was not Jacques though there is no thing wonderful about that, in these days of high-sounding professional cognomens. Ilis name was John Smithson; but nobody called him so. To all his friends and acquaint ances to the ringmaster and the Clown, and the equestrians and the gymnasts, one aud all, he was known as Monsieur Jack. Jack was twenty-three years old. He was a handsome Jack, besides being an agile one, and what was better still he was an Intelligent, thoughtful Jack, and what was best of all he was a cood Jack eood and true, steady and quiet, with no worse habits than the one habit of cigar-smoking, and that is saying a goo l deal for him in these days when all the young men learn to toss off all sorts of tanglesoine fluid villainies as naturally as so many naturals. Jack was neither dissipated nor idle. He was neither a spenuthrift nor a bar-room lounger. He had his modest room in a tenement-house, and there he passed the greater part ot his time when he was not at the circus, practising his muscular exercises in the day-time, or performing his wonderful teats in the evening. He was such a graceful, springy, well-shaped, bright-faced lad that many a young girl who had been at the circus that day and that night thought over and over again of the handsome young gymnast when she went home, and dreamed of him when she .went to sleep. But Monsieur Jack's thoughts were pre occupied that day and night; and of all the things that should preoccupy the thoughts of an intelligent young man, what should Mon sieur Jack be thinking about but bomebody's Stocking ! Thinking of Somebody's Stocking, he strolled into the theatre, which was still open, and there in the ballet which was being danced he saw a number of stockings. Not such stockings as Somebody's, though ! And while Jack was looking at the number of stockings on the stage and wondering what was in them whether flesh and blood, or merely woven wool for Jack, being in the profession, knew of the mysteries ot padding, though disdaining them in his own person there flitted across his vision, like a dream of the dead and gone Past, the sweet young face he had known years ago, and to whose owner he bad given the name of bugar-plums. Could it be Kitty King ? He searched the play-bill. No name there She belonged to the catalogue of nameless no bodies who do most of the work and get least ef the iiit. While he sat there the sweet face went away with the others which belonged to the drove of nameless ones, and gave place to a great creature shockingly unclad, who came and threw herself madly about, pointing her toe in the face of the trumpeter, and the bass fiddler, and the tenor drummer, one after the other. Jack arose and left the theatre. "I must be mistaken," he said to himself as he walked to his lodgings. "It can never be that little girl who lived in the village and who used to call me Jumping Jack. No, no it can never be I" And why, pray, Mr. Jumping Jack T Why, mav. can it never be f Mr. Jumuing Jaok ex plains no further, having reached his room- having passed by the doorpost where borne body's Stocking is still hanging empty in the darkness, and reached his room. He unlooks his door, goes in, locks it inside, and slowly prepares for bed. "I'd give the world," he says, forgetting altogether that he has not the world to give, "if it were she. But it is not. I was mistaken, Et voila tout." 5. IT VOILA TOUT. " Mistaken or not. the recollection of the ballet-girl's face torments Monsieur Jack sadly. He cannot sleep. He tosses and tumbles on his bed, and all night long he dances through an interminable ballet in his dreams, and points his toe in the face of the trumpeter, and the bass fiddler. and the tenor drummer. And when in his dreams he is not dancing through the interminable ballet, he is standing on his head at the circus and seeing, to his horror, the sweet-faced, modest little ballet girl trying to vault over six horses standing Bide by side, and falling and killing herself. He wakes early in the morning, and bathes himself and dresses himself and prepares to go down; and going down he meets the jolly washerwoman with the red face who gives him the top of the marnin' and calls Heaven to bless his honest young eyes. As he reaches the bottom of the flight of stairs leading down to the fourth floor he stops 1 here it hangs Still. Pinned to the door-post by the cruel prongs of the old-fashioned iron fork, there It hang: Still bomebody's Stocking. He cares little now who Somebody is. So far as he is concerned the Stocking may belong to the washerwoman, or to any olAier woman. The idea of indulging in sentimental refleo tions about a woman merely because you have seen her Hocking EjiDty 1 And yet as he comes close to it again in passing he does not resist the inclination to pause and look at it once more. He would really like to know whose it is just for ouiiosity's sake. And juBt for curiosity's sake he stares with all his might at it.' TLe door behind the post is opened softly, and a white hand is stretched forth to take in the Stocking. "Empty k" the owner of the hand murmurs, not seeing the young man, and "Ob, Sugar-plums I" The yooug man darts forward as if he were going to vault over six horses headlong, and grasps ber hands im his. "Dear little Sugar-plums, how came you here?" "What I JW Jumping Jack I" with trB gushing into her eyes, and making her lojk like tin angel right down from the ernes. Or so Air. Jack thinks. Yts Just Jumping Jack. No one else." "Oh. rhe is so clad 1 She is all alone, aud so fiierdlet'S with father and mother dead, and eo little salary, and two rude young men coming every night to the fame orchestra seats, and staring at her through their opera- Rlasfes. aud writing her insolent iove-ieiirs. .... 1. . . . . V T . 1 ("1 11 opera-glass 'em l" mutters Mr. jas under Lib breath.) "And your" says sugar-piums. He tells her he is flourishing. lie gets a large salary. He lives in humble lodgings, it is true, but his income is large enough for him to carry, if he likes, and go board in a fashionable street. And then he sighs; and sitting by her side on her little sofa he lifts her white fingers idly with his own, and drops them, and picks them np again, and brings them close to his lips to look at them closely and make sure he has not broken them. "And what are you doing, Jumping Jackf" asks Sugar-plums. Why is it possible Sugar-plums don't know what he is doing T He is a gymnast the wonder of the town has she not heard of him f He is the wonder ful Monsieur Jacques.. "Oh I" she exclaims, with great eyes. Is he Monsieur Jacques f the great Moneieur Jacques f whom she has been longing to see, but she never has a night off? Oh I is it possible he is the extraordinary Monsieur Jacques ? And she looks at him as if he were the Gorilla, or some other great man. ies, he is Monsieur Jaenues. Doesn't Sugar-plums remember how smart at spring ing and leaping he was as a boy r Does she remember r How can she forget r Was not that the reason all the boys nick named him Jumping Jack f Ah, yes, to be sure. Well, he has turned his talent in that direotion to some accouut now, and all the world flocks to see the gym nastics of Monsieur Jacques. "I have travelled all over the world myself, Sugar-plums. I have performed in Loudon, at the famous Astley's that you and I used to read about in our story-books when we were children. I performed in Paris two seasons one summer at the Hippodrome and one winter at the Cirque de I'luipcratrice. Iu 1'aris it was not necessary to call me Monsieur Jacques. Jacqueses are too common in Paris. I was now what do you think I was on the bills in Paris, Sugar-plums ?" She thought a minute. "Jumping Jack," she said, lifting her head as a bird might lift its head after picking up a crumb. "The very thing !" said Mr. Jack, clapping his hands. "What an extraordinary talent you have for guessing, Sugar-plums t" "And then ef course you learned to speak French, Jumping Jack ?" "Oh 1 yes, I can speak French as well as I can English. Je parte bien, allezl Under stand t" Sugar-plums fhook her head. "I don't know a word of French," she said. ttAh I que je voudrais votes croqucr, petite Sugar-plums I" uttered Jack, in a low tone. But she understood this no better than the other. There was a pause in the little room. A long, long pause. And then the water in the tea-kettle boiled over, and sputtered and choked and hissed as if it were a critical spectator of this perform ance, and felt displeased at the performers. "Oh, dear !" cried Sugar-plums, starting up and running to it, and trying to appease it even prepared to return its admission fee if it insisted on it "oh, dear 1" "Did you call me f" said Jumping Jack slyly. Sugar-plums blushed. "Don't tease me, Jackie 1" she said. "Well then, I won't," said Mr. Jack; and then there was another long pause, at which the tea-kettle began to hiss again in renewed displeasure. "I shall have to put you out, Mrs. Tea kettle," said Sugar-plums, and she lifted it off the fire and set it on the hearth, where it sub sided into an inglorious state of silence and dejection. Sugar-plums drew a long breath, and looked at the little table all spread fer breakfast. Would Monsieur Jacques stay and take break fast with her f Of course he would; he was only too happy. And he took breakfast with her, and was not too happy, but just happy enough. Happy enough, too, when breakfast was over, to steal up quite close to her side and say softly "Sugar-plums !" "Well, Jackie f" "Do you remember how I used to love you when I was a boy f" "Oh, yes," Baid she, laughing gently. "I remember." "I'm glad you do." "But that, Jack, was when you were a hoy." Jumping Jack seemed a trifle disconoerted by this but not for long. "Sugar-plums V onoe more. "Yes, Jackie." "I love you still." "Oh, Jumping Jack !" "Sorry?" queried Jack apprehensively. "No, Jack. Glad," said she. "I am glad." "Will you marry me then, Kitty Sugar plums T" She pressed his hand hard as hard as she could with the hand he was holding, and shut her eyes for a minute or two as if some thing daziled her. When she opened them again, tears ran over from amid the thick, long lashes. "Crying ?" said Jack, looking very much disturbed. "For joy, Jackie," Bhe said, "Crying for joy." And she cried for joy while he went on:. "I have always loved you, Kitty dear always. Ever since I can remember anything at all, I remember having loved little Kitty King. I loved you as a boy, when you were a little girl, and we were always together; when we went to school together, and sat only two forms apart, and when l used to bring you nuts and apples. Do you remember that ?" Oh, yes oh, yes, indeed, she remembered that remembered it well, and should never forget it never, never ! "I loved you even then, Kitty, as I have never in all my life loved any one else. When I grew up into a big boy, and moved away to New York with my father, I said to myself that I would go back Borne day to the little village under the hill and marry Kitty King." "Put you forgot to go back, didn't you, Jumping Jack ?" "Forgot, Sugar-plums T Forgot t Oh, no! I did go back; but Kitty King was gone away no one knew where. I loved you then, Kitty, so ranch that I thought my heart would break. And ever since then, since I have been a man, all these years, we have been leparated, I have loved you. I loved your Stocking hen I taw it. I meant to put some thing in it, but I said that I would put nothing In a stockirg which might after all belong to somebody I could not love. And ao thinking I did put iu the best thing 1 owned in the world the best thing any man owns, aud the bebt thing he cau give to a woman." "What is that, dear Jack ?" "My heaTt." "Oh, Jackie !" and she puts her head down upon Lis breast where the heart is beating; beating love for her with all its throbs. "When will yon, darling?" he whispers softly. "Whenever you say, dear Jackie," she whis pers in reply. "Then now at once; now when the whole earth is purified for us by the holy Christmas tide; row when the world is wealing its holiday dress, and the old snow-covered city glows warm at its heart with the cheery fires which always blaze so merrily all the Christ mas week; now wheu all heaits should leap for joy. Will you, Kitty Sugar-plums? Will you marry me to-day the day after Christ mas ?" "Ye?." He draws her towards him gently, his sweet, sweet Sugar-plums; he puts his arm about her waist, his sweet, sweet Sugar-plums; his un sullied lips touch her young fresh lips in the first kiss of love the first kiss of sweet, sweet Sugar-plums and splendid Jumping Jack a heavenly kiss a Christmas kiss Which is interrupted by a rap as of some body's knuckles on Somebody's door. And Sugar-plunus comes down out of Para dise to the humdrum earth again, and having reached the humdrum earth, cries out, "Come in !" Enter Smirkins. "Good morning, Miss Kitty," says Smirkins, with a grave and apprehensive observation of Mr. Jack. Whereupon Miss Kitty makes the two gen tlemen to know each other, aud the effect of the two gentlemen's knowing eaoh other is that the theatrical gentleman, Mr. Smirkins, is quite awed by the consciousness that he is standing in the presence of the wonderful Monsieur Jacques, and it takes him a distress ing length of time to get over that feeling of awe. Put he gets over it at last; and they all take comfort together; and Smirking explains that it was so cold last night he thought he would wait till this morniDg before coming with something for the Stocking; and he then pulls a ridiculous wooden Jumping Jack out of his) pocket, and its appearance is the signal for such an extraordinary amount of laughter on the part of Kitty King and Mr. Jack that Smirkins at once concludes that his appear ance on the scene is a triumphant success, and he laughs as heartily as they. V ell I Everything must have an end. They were done laughing at last; and then Kitty explained that she had a real live Jump ing Jack which was so much better than a wooden one she was going to marry it. And Smirkins was sad at hrst; and glad after he had thought it over a little; and by the time he had accepted an invitatiou to go to the wedding in the afternoon his face was rosy red with the reflection of the joy of Sugar plums and Jumping Jack. M.I vouil tout. INTERNAL REVENUE PRINCIPAL AGENCY FOB THE MAI E OF VKITE1) STATES BEVKKCE STAMPS. All kinds of RfveDue 8tmps kept constantly on hand, and for sale In all amount. Stamps forwarded to all parts of the United States by Mall or Express, with the greatest despa'ch. The following discount allowed; On ao............ ......... ,..... .f WO FEB CENT 120 to 100..... . nova PEU CENT K0 and upwardB......FOUH AND A HALF FEB CT. The United States Bevenue Stamp printed on Checks, Crafts, Eecelrts, Bill Heads, etc. Orders solicited frcm Printers, Engravers, Sta tioners, Banks. Bankers, and others. The following discount allowed on the Stamped Paper; Cnder 10a....TWO AND A HALF PER CENT. 1M to I3C0 THREE PE CENT 1300 and over.. ...TOUR PER CENT JACOB E. RIDGWAY, MO. 57 SOUTH TIIIBD STREET, PHILADELPHIA. PRINCIPAL DEPOT FOB TBB BALE OF UNITED STATES REVENUE STAMPS, No. 304 OIIESNUT Street.'' CEXTBAL DEPOT, No. 103 South FIFTH Street (One door below Obeannt street). ESTABLISHED 1SOS. Onr stock comprises all the denominations prlntd by tbe Gov rnment, ALL ORDEBS FILLED AND FORWARDED BY MAIL OR EXPHFSS IMMEDIATELY UPON RE CEIPT, a matter of great Importance. Drafts cfi Philadelphia, Post Office Orders, GAen oacka, and National Baak Nolea, received In pay meDt. ;The following rate ol commission are allowed On 20 ..TWO FR CENT From flO to S100 . .FOUR1 PER CENT iroru 1U0 upwards.... FOUR AND A HALF PJCRUT Tbe Commission la payable In stamp". All orders, etc should be artdrwued to STAMP AOENVT, No. 304 OIIESNUT Street, PHILADELPHIA. OBDERS RECEIVED FOR STAMPED CHECKS BBAFTB, RECFIPTS. ETC. 11 23 STOVES, RANGES, EtC. KOTICE TUB UNDERSIGNED would call attention ot tbe public K bla Tiila la an entirely new beater, ilia soreon- airuced aa to at ouce commend Itoulf to general favor, being acomuluuliun or wrouuht aud ot iron. It la very simple In Its construction, aud la peileUly air tight; aell'-cleanlug, having no pipes ordruuiii to be) tken out aud cleaned, it la so avranged with uprlKht liues as to produce a larger amouul uf beat from tna same weight ' oval thuu any lurnaca now In one. The hyirouirtrlo rendition of tbe air us produced by my new arrangement ot evaporation will atoucede luoubtrate that I. Is the only Hot Air Furuaoe that will produce a re' fectly healthy atmosphere. Those in want ot a compleie Hoanug Appnratns would do well to call and examine the Uohleu Eagle, CHAKLKM WILLIAMsT Kos. 1132 and 113 OlAKK E I Htreet, . . Philadelphia A large BKHortment of Cooking Banges, K Ire-Board Stoves, Low litiwn Urates, Ventilators, no,, iwvg on hand. K. K Jobbing of all kluds promptly done). E10 THOMPSON'S L.Onnw TrTTrrrvvrot. 3 OR EUROPEAN RAMUS, for Famlllrti, Ho- S32 "" uuiri; lUBtllUWJIIS. in I WItK l Y D1F. Hot-Air Furnaoes, Portable Heaters, LowdownCkraW VlrMbOATd Klivua U..H. u..uUH u... ...77 1 tollers, Cooking Htoves, etc., wboleeKle and rotall.bf . manufacturers. BUAKPE & THOMriOJM. 11 il nullum No. 1.D N. KKOONI) (ttraet. WILLIAM 8. GRANT. OONMIKHION MERCHANT, HO. U B. DELAWARE Avenue, Philadelphia, lutNT a IHipont's Onnpowder, Kerlued Nitre, Charcoal, KtO W. Baker A Co.'s Chocolate, O coa, aud Brouit. Crocker Bros. A Co.' Vew Metal tab eat atrial Boltt, and fcaiiA,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers