D. r • 'MOAN, Editor. VOLUME 20. (brig,inot Vat Written for the Observer. “ Tati f ti 21011011.." DT OCORO I For what should ha he honored? fur his 100 His well-wtought fOrtl3. or graceful tlgur9l For this he could not help, ho did not make thomir, I guess. Just as absurd, I weco, The state! 'e difice, (ha pride dart; The honor hould receive for the reason That the artist formed it well. Wen, +Mat th titmuld he be honored for hie svealtb? No, This would not do. Wealth, Mt it may be ha 1 1 7 accident, and not by true desert. Or by ought that be hatb done who claims It, Or by wicked //MIMI it way be wreateJ Otit of bancat ham's. nonor Is not hero To rest, else the extortioner, the thief, 'Chemise:, very oft would bear the point. Where should the ' , onor rest?• in equipage? Vanity? Deceit and gthle, and heartleba. Soulless, senseless dust are oft Paund wrept up In gorgeous coverings. I The viper has • ilis Airy stripes; think you on this neeounr lie's innocent? llownre, tbe seeds of death Lie there, though not betrayed by outer form Often arc externals used to make up The lack of other thingi; acute tuay be abet And then they would be needed. Speak your Say what you will, One truth la clear ag day, Sorneiiinea are dairies mistook for gentlemen. Where is the honor then to rest? in mind? In genie brightest Nwers for lofty' thought, Or graceful flow of sounds wrought out in rhys So—no—this will not, do; nor less could he Refuse what nature gave him flee, than he 'Whom nature made a fool. Think you the gut That warms the fertile earth, arid wilder orbs That deck Out the :light, think you to theniselti The praise Is due? To hint who made then lit The praise belongs; they only act 4% made To act and could nal e'en do other ihe. Thus anntb—hls talents from Lis Alaker Caine, And hence to him alono the honor's due. For ,% hat should'he be honored, then] pl For what filinself bath done, if good it be, In doing beat with what he has to do, With tds conscience cfear towards God and ma For this be alloVld be !rmored—for nottung els :A4utifttl lour, GRACE A,TIIERTON,.I EEM ATTOU Lsr .1301:71323. us it. u. •e Frozu the lieiton Olive Wallet] [coiroiVid).] "Liars Milan:" burst from tho lips of 'Philip Mars toa. his face was white with passim', and uvory fea ture worked couvulsively under the emotions which had been called up while accidentally overlithiring tho fore going convereation from an adjoining stall. Richard Serivoner sprang furiously to his feet, and fur a moment stood surse3 - inigr his powerful opponent s uncertsin whether to avoUgo tiro insult ho had received by asimilar proceeding, or to consider it as a melt-de served cha.sliseinent, and sdy. nothing. ••You have bstrayed your infamous schemes," said the brother of Kato 51arston, in 3. calm but terrible voice, ••iire they aro cousuminated. Bo it punishment enough, to know that they shall all he defeated." Flinging u look of contempt at the young man, who shrank back in fear as he passed, Philip Marston quited thestall, and walk ed rapidly toward his dwelling. "Dune fur, my boy," 'aid the citOr inenthcr of the party, who had been an astonished' spectator of this scene. "You may whistle fur the hand of Grace Adler km, but I p!edgo you this'," holding up to the light glass of braudy as he quite, .'that sou will have to work sharp to win it." "What moan vou?" returned Scriveuer. ..11'hy it's plain enough," replied his faros), diily, "Ibis Mullion will at once unlighted Mrs.' Atherton res pecting what he has overheard, and---_" "Pooh:" said the other "ho dare uot." "1 tell you he will—a locer will dare anything. Hat hat the pretty Grace_ but this afternoon drove away from Marston's door, and besides, out of revenge for your ten ltter passages with his eibter, Philip Marston will have motive enough to aped your chance with the pretty heir eds. Depond.upon it, Scrivener, your game ie up in that quarter." The young man made no answer, but ground his teeth with chagrin and chsappuintmont. Suddenly a thought struck him, and, without a word of explanation to his companion, he darted out of the coffee-house, "and made tho best of his way to Court. L ' It was growing late. Kate _Marston sat-in her little parlour, glancing from limo at the clock, with 7n air of impatience, and wondering why hor brother came not at bib usual hour. Her heart was overflowing with hap piness, for ho whom she loved, had promised to make her his wifo. Richard Scrivener had boon facivated by her beauty, and his vanity gratified to be tho objel of such ' passionate devotion as she lavished upon him. V inning. to his address, and skilled in'tlio art of pleasing, it was: not strange that whoa the young man became la daily visitor at her little studio, that she might transfos his im age to her canvass,' it became written 'uncoriscianaly up on her heart. He 'encouraged her love, and affected to reciprocate , it, and thus for several months thes l e stolen interviews, to' her so sweet, were enjoyed without the knowledge of her brother Philip. Kate , Was compelled to this secrecy, in spite of many misgiving's, byho fable representations of her lover. Their future of h ppiness depended on it, and thus the poor girl, trustin fondly 4 Ins promises of love, and deceived by the tondo moss ho could too well assume, loved and hoped on. Her dream othappiness was, alas: this night to be over. the was soddenly startled by the hurried entrance of her . rother. "Philip . dear," said the girl, flinging her arnis about 1 her neck, "you don't deserve a kiss for being th to your pronise. _Beer, it is late; you have h work to-night, perhaps, and awearied," She attempted to kiss hinti, but he gently put 111 and fixed his eyes sternly upon her taco. She en ita was very pale, and shook in every limb, as if tt to stand. "Dearest brother you are ill! speak to me: do thus strangely upon your own Kate." "You are no longer my Kate;" said her brot tern; "another shares your love." "Great Heaven!" said the girl gaspink for "what mean you?" The youngimau groaned hoaily, and as dea l was wrung from his lips by some terrible inward repeated deliberately the conversitiou he had o in the stall, Kate Merstea stood breathless, abd white as as ho mutt on. Every word quivered like an a bar heart. A sharp pain. as if its delicate strict suddenly snapped forever. passed over her from cry of anguieh broke,from hot lips, aat i d then oho vily on thu ACIIITTER VII. The attorney`was alone in hie chainber. It Midnight, and yet sloes he had driven hie son house in ,a moment of furious passion, wore the before, he had out moved a limb or feature. t T ..:. A,.• .. ',—.. : . , . 1 , . r , R . _, • , I [. sni OBSERVER ..., Hit. 3 truant ci more or back, ! aw that oo weak Lot look or, bit- breath, h word (torture, orteard row in wore —a_low ell boa- all past rom tho as hour Richard Scrivener., after quitting the, coffee-house, sought his father, and assuminl)s light jesting tone, related to him tho adventure which had just ` transpired. But he bad misjudged the old man. The attorney comprehended that his own son had innocently struck the fatal blow to hi s sc h emes : Ile foresaw that Philip Manton would at once expose to Mrs. Atherton the rout character of her intended son-in-law, and that Grace would never become Mrs. Scrivener. Mrs. Atherton would revoke her will, and settle the property unconditionally upon her dat4h ter. These thoughts passed rapidly through hia mind, and for the moment all hope forsook him, Maddened by the disappointment, he turned upon - ids son, and heaping taunts and reproaches upon him, drove him violently from the house. I said he was alone. But one eye saw whet passed in that room; one ear caught the faintest word that es. coped the attorney's lips. - The tilde dwarf crouched without the doof. and peeped in at the key-hole. with the same malicious smile on his face as on the preced ing night. He had obtained a clue to the plot, and there he sat, patiently watching and limning for that which should aid him in working it out. Mr. Scrivener was pouring over Mrs. Atherton's wilt. and unawares uttering his thoughts aloinl—"This Mats ton wilt ace her to-morrow. If that could be prevented! But no! She will learn' all. destroy her will, and in-the next, ho careful enough to leave out . the name of my graceless son, and perhaps that of the old attorney him self! Hat hal" laughed the old man savagely. "we shall see, my dear kinswoman! you could not be so un grateful! Oh, no!.' She will send for roe, of course. to draw up a now will, with regrets that these unforeseen circumstances, Sm. Bah!"said tllawyer. setting his teeth hard, and wincing under the sing that lay in these reflections. • Just at that moment his eye fell upon some straps of paper lying upon the table, written over with the name of Mary Atherton. The unsigned will, yet in his posses sion, was beside them, and his graze, wandered fiotti one to the other, becoming more fixed and burning as he looked. The note received on the preceding day, from that lady, was there also. Strange that the sight of them should so airect the attorney! In the space of a minute, an entire change had passed over him, He stood up right—his form dilating, and the arms folded across the chest—a feverish joy lightning his thin face, and his eyes (u,tencd to the papers before him, in one concentrated, sparkling glance. Ile stood, the impersonation of tri umph Every gesture and movement breathed a fierce nod resolute will.--every line of his features was stamped with en iron purpose, softened with a gleam of savage joy. “What a fool I have been," Said he, at length; ••ene stroke of the pen and it is d Ile took up Mrs. Atheitoit's note, and placed it beside the signatures lie bad before copied in an idle ntainetit. "Hat how very like!" Seizing the pen, lie traced that name again- and again. The lust time, each diameter, grew under his trembling fingers with fearful accuracy., The attorney paused. His face was white and corpse-like, and trout his eyes blazed a terrible light as they turned one long faeinated gaze upon the will. The compressed lip. and the veins startipg like tense cords from his wasted tem ples, betrayed the struggle with that temptation, He started back appalled, nt first, from crime. Wrong, and oppression, and, deceit, had, up to this hour. constituted the sum of his life—but absolute guilt was yet wanting trfr4,up the measure of iniquity. The struggle was a fearful one. The lawyer shook in every limb, and a cold pespiration bathed his forehead. But it was only for a nt •ment. With a gigantic effort he flung MT the strong grasp which reason and conscience had laid upon his b acid with a desperate calmness took the pen, and wrote ..Mary Atherton" at the bottom of the will. Then he wont to his desk, and took thence a roll of parchment similar in form and size to the one containing the will, His next business was to transfer the contents of that wilt to this blank parchment, letter 45. letter. - He executed the task with a steady hand and a professional sung froid, as if ho were copying a brief. All indication of weakness and ruiners° had passed away. The (11111 . 10 bitter smile wreathed his lip, and the same quiet malice gleamed its his grey eyes while he wrote, as before. But there had been suddenly called up to confront this great crisis of hie life, a new and terrible energy. Ho felt that if inad opiate to contend with it, he must , himself be crushed in the struggle ; that all the vast powers of intellect he posAcesedt—his indomitable will, keen sagacity and in flexible purpose, must be weapons Wielded with pro foundest skill, if ho'would achieve triumph. Shuddering, ho had taken a step that plunged him into a fearful abyss of guilt, but now necescitated by a great emergency to reach yet lower depths, his heart quailed not. Ho. was playing a desperate game of life and death, and every talent of his splendid intellect was flung into thegscale. The first throw had boon made, and now, with a fiendish joy, he watched hie dread adversary, Fate, who, for the first time in all 'his past history of adveraitiee, was ar rayed in battle against him. But a worse enemy than Fate, the attorney was des ,tined to. find in the person of the little humpback. The dwarf had not stirred a muscle, while watching the mi ser through the keyhole. Once, when the old man sign ed the will, a droll smile disturbed the imperturbable gravity of his face; and applying a thumb to tho tip of his nose, he executed certain gyratory motions with the fingers, which, as such pantoinine was wholly lost upon the bare *walls mind around, seemed a harmless 'piece of pleasantry with himself—the embodiment of some facetious idea. A merry light danced in his black oyes, as ho watched the attorney. Those were strange proceedings: indeed, to occasion mirth on the part of the humpback, but so it was. He waited until the had se cured the will in his desk, put out the light shortly after, and flung himself upon a rude pallet of straw, thou he 'shuffled out of the houeo._, Dr. Ashleigh was not mistaken in his opinion respec - ting Mrs. Atherton's illness: Hours passed, of anxious watching to Grace, ere she recovered frotn the insensi ble state induced by the strong mental oxciteinent conse quent upon hor interview with therittorney—and then, all reference tq the subject was precluded by an extreme weakness both of body.and mind. She did not allude to the occurrences of tho morning, for they seemed to have passed from her memory, and Grace. us she eat by the bedside. of her mother, clasping those thin. pale bands, in her own, and watching breathlessly the still, emote mince of the eieepitir, though Red witkvague appiohen alone relative to her future destiny, and with a hundred queries upon her lips, dared not give them utterance.— She had divined, in part, the nature of Mr. Scrivener's business with hor mother that morning. and now. fearful of agitating the invalid by reverting to it. ,the poor girl became ibe victim of many painful and conflicting con jectures. No will could be found, and she therefore con cluded it had not been framed. Wearily passed that night in the sick room.. When morning came, seeing that her mother was in a gentle Asleep.- the young girt I sought her aim couch, for her oyes were heavy with watching and grief. - The attorney had judged Philip Marston - rightly. To rescue Grace Atherton from a hateful it 01013 . : with Rich ard Scrivener. was now ti determined purpose • With, the yOung um% and then a deep burning thirst for. revenge. ( aa h e leohed'uponfils genthrKste. crushed'and blighted: i n h er sweet dreams:Grieve andhappinesa, by the-perfidy and bootlessness of biits.v►bo bed: for ,very pi l aus:pa, won her hearts) possossisilge *W. • . • 2 Kate , Almon underatelid It for awn' inrat had SATURDAY NIORNING, AUGUST 18, 1849. . , , been false and was about to wrong another whom her brother loved. She forgave him. thin, the bitternoss of his heart, and listened calmly While he unfolded his put , pose. 'Her own heart's sorrow woke a sympathy for Grace, and she could uow pray for /tor happiness'. and bid Philip God .peed op his mission of mercy to - that cantle being, even . though it brought disgrace upon hirn who was alas! with all higfaults,•still too dear to hor own heart. Mrs. Atherton Awoke, in the morning as from a deep sleep. Her mind was clear. and composed, and at once reverted to the oceurrences'of the preceding day.' and she was about summoning Mr. Scrivener to her chamber. when a note from Philip Marston urgently soliciting an interview, was put into her hands. It will be unneces sary to dwell on the particulars of that interview. : ' In an hour the young man quitted the "house, with a 'light step, even though he had not seen Grace. Sho still slept, and for reasons which Will hereafter apPear.' Mrs. Atherton had given orders that she should not be•awak enod, or be permitted to See her until the attorney, wheat she had 'now summoned, should have gone. Mr. Scrivener read the summons to Mrs. Atherton'e chamber with a calm smile on his lip. A slight quiver passed over him as the name of Mary Atherton- mat his eye, and thoh ho was cold,'and passionless, and assured, as before, But when ushered into the darkened room of suffering, and the Sick woman's gaze turned upon him, the whole aspect of the man underwent a change. With an air of profound humility, he advanced'to the bed, and bending his head meekly, with arms crossed, ho stood without a word, awaiting the. invalid's pleasure. Had sho suddenly been stricken dumb, her lips would not have boon more effectually sealed against the bitter and reproachful thoughts that came up fur utterance than they were by this admirable stroke of policy, on the part of the attorney. There he stood, silent and sbetracted, as if brooding over a hidden sorrow, his eyes cast down, every feature eloqu - int of grief, and In au attitude of hu mility, as if deprecating seine anticipated burst of rage. And this mon was the proud impassable attorney: Mrs. Atherton was at once baffled and touched. fier sympa thies, so skilfully lippeBlol.l to, rose superior to her - anger, and in a gentle voice she motioned the lawyer to a neut. "You do not look well to-day, Mr. Scrivener." "Circumstances of alpainful nature, madam," replied the lawyer gravely, "have occasioned me, within a fow hours, severe mental affliction, and the physical; partici pates in—but I beg your pardon," chocking hiniself ab ruptly and siguing profoundly. "Glint has rendered too selfish, when it should have bceu my first concorn, dear madam, to inquire utter yotir health." flu out down, and hu - Ving tenderly espressJd himself relative to her to cent illness, with an occasional reference to his oWn,stiri• rows, that his policy might be advanced more surely by first enlisting her sympathies for him, he brought forward tho will which he had forged the preeediug night, the original of Mile)), it will bo remembered,' was still un signed and in 1114 possessiou. "Your sudden Illness, matim," ho said, extending tho,paroliment I to Mis. Atherton, "pro routing the compkitioil of this testament, 1 assumed the fleetly, us your subcitor, of securing it from the gaze of others iu the house, until you should be recovered." rho bight of the will, recalling as it did her late inter view with Philip lilurstoti, and awakening anew the vague feeling of distrust toward the old man, which his words had occasioned, threw Mrs. Atherton, for the.uto went, off her guard. "You wore perfectly correct sir, in Mot," she an swered quickly. "And now will you bo good enough to throw that will upon the fire:" '•:Madam?" said dm' attorney as if not hearing aright "13u oo good as to put that will into the firu!" 111 r. Scnveuer had forseen this, and without being in the least discotteerted, could calmly have obeyed her, but the eick woman's gszr was upon him, and ho started back aghast, will/ u well Directed air of surprise, as if welt donng whether she had not lost her senses. she did not repeat the command iu words, but au imperious gesture and significaut glance wore enough, bud quietly the old man flung the' parchtneut upon the fire. The uct recall ed Mrs. Atherton to herself. ••1t has beerin mutual wish. ttiy friend," she said, speaking very gently. "that our / child:en should be uni ted." The attorney bowed in silence. "1 had anticipated that /the step would promote thy daughter's happiness; but it is not SO." Mr. Scrivouor bout his eves humbly upon the floor. and made no answer -••Of course, than, such a marriage do longer remains the condition of making her ttlY sole heir, and I have sent for you to draw up a new will: Pardon my abrupt- DOSS in wishing you but now to destroy the original one. The sight of it woke'painful reflections which I would fain banish from my ' d, during these last hours of my life." Airs. Athertonpaused for a moment and then calmly desired the attorney to execute her will. Whatever of distrust and suspicion attached to himself tin consequence of Philip Marston's interview with her that morning, the lawyer tailed to discover the least in dication thereof either in the words Just spoken, or in the accompanying tones and looks. Fur the first tune in all their intercourse; she seemed to have assumed - a policy which OVOII he could nut penetrate. Resolved to know the worst, the attorney suddenly changed his tactics. •'You are too "generous, my friend. You faired to wound a parent's heart, by speaking the truth, Well, than, you shall hear it from my o*n lips. My son is not worthy your daughter's love. Itharrcorne to your know!- ' edge." Mrs. Atherton's cheek flushed' crimson, and she look': ad wonderingly upon the', old man. "Yea, it is all clear, mi friend, you would have spared me the paid of repeating this to me, and yet 1, Who suf• ferso much, speak to your thus frankly. Confess that you have done a sincere friend injustice, in thinking him capable at saCrifieing an old friendship to a blind and doting parental love! No, madam, I had anticipated you. — Seel I would not have suffered your daughter to wed my son. I would have forewarned her of his un worthiness. You would have lost nothhig by dealing frankly With me. Is it not so?" ' It would be impossible to convoy in' Winds, the touch ing simplicity, pathos and gentle earnestness which, in every accompanying look and gesture, characterized this speech, and / as impossible to ceneelve that the possessor of so toworiqg 411 intellect, skilled in all . intricacies of low cunning. cruel and ambitious. and this generous, innocent old man, obit nil the apparent naivete and art lessness of a child, were one and the same person. Mrs, Atherton was deeply touChed,Sand her eyes filled 'withleara. Persuaded by his sophistry that she bad wronged him. she acknowledged the injustice in a low voice, and extending her baud to the attorney,'she Press pd ,his inn warm clasp. Mr. Scrivener had well chosen and skillfully played his part. He foreknew that suspicion would be directed against himself, and, that Ora. Athertoh would cause a new will to hoeseented. To work out his schemes suc cessfully. it was necessary to disarm the one. and hive the, supervisioll of the tither. ' Both Of theiti. inch he had now epippaseed By a more subtle policy of . speech on , his own- part, he had cernpeiled:the_sick woman te shoe don that which she had adopted. Instead. then. or be in; lodged : a participator. in the proceedings of. his Joe. lie' stood th'era.44 her ifeer ‘ 'o!o" Injured, sorrowing Faro. sot, tli,n earl heoa'y with grief at :lie failiel of his MON IV D After a pause, he, at • sign frona.Mte, Atherton. seat ed himself at a little tattle 'distant a few paces from the bed, and proceeded to convelta formal .bequest of her tproperty to her daughter Grace; The tetras were un conditional. No reference was made to her marriage, I excepting to declare her free fiom all obligation io Rich. and Scrivener. Theta was likewise a elegis. bequeath ing the sum of five thousand dollars to Simon Scrivener, as a testimonial of friendly regard. The old man chuck ' led to himself as he penned this 'clause. and a smile of peculiar meaning curled his lip. The will was temple ted: Two old domestic's were summoned. and affixed their signatares, and then the attorney was once more alone with the sick woman. She took the will into her own hands, and read it_ very slowly—her cheek, the while, !lensing with a faint color, and a happy smile beaming from her grey, straiten eyes. Folding her hands calmly upon her breast, as Ole indicate the serenity and peace within, she desired the lawyer to take front a cabi • net a small ebony box. and after soiling the will, to place the parchment within it. Tho attorney went to the ta ble,-glancing as he did so at the sick woman. Her eyes were closed. She was absorbed in sweet and pleasant reflection upon the act she had just performed. Quick as thought Mr. Scrivener transferred the, will he had just drawn up, to his pocket. and substituted that which he had execuledlin her presence the . day before, and the signature of which he had forged that night in his room. The purport of this will was, the dying wish of Mrs. Atherton that her daughter should become the wife of the attornoy'e eon. Falling in this, the property would revert to the attorney. It was a copy of this will. it will be remembered, which, at her request, the old man had flung upon the fire a tow minutes before. It was but the work of a moment to affix the signatures of the witnes ses. Orie glance had stamped them upon his memory. and they grow under his pen with fearful accuracy..... Then he deliberately folded the instrument end affixed his seal thereto, and the villanous work was done. He 1 had struggled to suppress all sign of the storm of joyful • Passion that was sweeping over his soul, as the fruition of his toil seemed just ripening tol his - hued, and calm, unmoved ho had been, until the seed was set, then. placing the will within the ebony box which Mrs. Ather ton had indicated, and scarcely trusting himself to speak, ; more than to take a hasty leave, he quitted the house • and walked on, heedless of whither he was going, liko ono in a dream. Au hour after, a messenger was dispatched for Dr. Ashleigh. Pa!o and tearful, so spiritually beautiful that sac seemed like the angel of blessing minietering to a suf. ro rer, stood Grace Atherton, at the couch oil her mothet They hung with tehderost care over the dying worittin, but it was all in vain. The lamp of lifo was flickering into its eockot. That night it went out into tho darkness of death'. • A week had passed. it was four o'clock in the after noun when Mr. Scrivener quitted hist:own and bent his steps towards Lincoln Square, whore Grace Atherton. seated in the library of her mother's splendid mansion, awaited the opening of her deceased patent's will. Un informed both of the nature and the faCt of PhillipMars ,ton's visit, and cellingto Ini;nd tho frequent occasions oti which that parent had dwelt upon the advantages which would result from her union with the attorney's son, she was at no loss to divine the purport of her mother's will, and:now that the first bitterness of boroavement was pass ed. and her thoughts reverted to her own condition she trembled at the anticipated struggle between a regard far her own happiness, and a sense of filial duty in respect to die last wishes of a beloved par'ent. It was already dark in Court so that Mr. Scrivo. nor walking brisk lyi through it, to . gain the street, did not , see a little figure stumbling along before him, until, as if by accidrint, he felt himself tripped up, and falling prone , to the ground. Almost at the same moment a hand as- , eibt..d him to rise, and an apology fell meekly from the dwarf 's lips, for his iuVolunt try awkwardness, A ,violeut blow was all lie acknow!elgement 40 received, end then the attorney went on his way. Laughing maliciously to himself, and eliaki»g:a small beach of keys which ha hold In Ids hand, at the miser's retreating figure, tho humpback glided up the Court, and a moment after stood within the chamber Mr. Scrivener had quitted ten min - u tea before. He paused not to look around him, but go ing directly to the chimney piece, pushed aside an old bookcase that stood there, and pressod back a little spring resembling very much a nail driven into the wall, a largo portion• of the panelling flew open, disclosing an iron safe, into which the dwarf fitted a key: the door swung upon its hinges. With a cry of delight the dwarf clutch ed a roll of parchment that now met his eye. Tearing it opett with almost frantic eagerness, be hurried to the window, and glanced rapidly at Its contents. "Ile,. lie!" ho screamed, as the Signature of Mary Atherfen met his eye, and the attorney's villany, in all its depth, now flashed upon his mind. "We have you at lost.. Forgery! ha! ha! But you shall pay dearly for this, Mr. Scrivener. -We have a long score to wipe out." As he said this, the dwarf's large eyes blazed with fury. as he thought of the insults, the sneers. ay! the blow's he received at that tnan's hand. Then ho thought of his deep, damning crime; of Grace and Kate, concerning whom he had heard so much—of rescuing them from the snares woven by that old Man, and tasting the sweet ness of revenge for all the indignities heaped upon him self. It was ao pleasant and merry withal for him to think of achieving with his - own. toil and cunning. such groat and glorious things, that the little creature suddenly flung himself upon the doer and rolled over and over in an ex- Stacy of merriment. He twisted his little fignre,inte the meet Impoasibliz el!apos, danced madly about, the room, snapping his long fingers, and throwing his features into the most hideous grimaces and contortions: Suddenly his eye fell upqn the, will which had fallen to the floor. He took it up and feed it over again. There it was—in the dwarf's hands—a terrible engine of retribution. He. felt the magnitude of the power which that discovery had placed within his hands, and the thought caused a gra ver mood to come over him. Ho stood a moment half perplexed, as to the moat judicious way of using it.— Then. with n cry of joy trembling on his lip, es the plan he would choose. flashed across him. he started up and left the house, taking carathat notrace of his visit should remain bahihd. Heine down the Court, he dropped the kcylupou the same epot where, ho had so , skillfully play ed his "ruse" to obtain possession of therm and with a' lough. as the figure, of the attorney prostrate upon the ground through his stratagem, rose to his mind. thedwarf rapidly hurried along the fast darkening streets in the di rection of Philip Manton's dwelling. • - ` Kato Marston had'swept theffittla parlor. and garnish. ed it with flouters which she knee/ her brother loved, and pow she, eat *etching. with book in hand.lotriilng to hash 'theta memorial cif , the peat, which. allot: for bet peace..toi offen Mingled with,her theighte when alone: She started as &tend knock at the door proclaimed opine %timer band. and beefily rising. °period it,-and for a moment 'Muted back at sight of the misshapen, uncouth figure of the little diverf who stood before her: lt was but for as instant. for Kato Minionwasgentle and earn passionete to and for thoil ofilicted of hearten and too often *prp,sl64l4 men,, the bad . everakind word, end when peeded.,le ready, alms. apd eilm,hail recovered herfel(eimaat Ire, questiop; !is hilip : Marston at Maier! leaned in shrill accents (Mai tbcfittle form be% fere her. , Hate wondered fir a istuntint what such a be- CHAPTZSt TH. lug could wish with bar brother, and then thinking the he might be one of those unfortunates whom PhUip'st heart was always open to relieve, she answered In the negative, and to the ttiettiance given by the dwarf; that ho had particular business with him. in a kind tone she bade him enter and await her brother'i coming. The little creature shambled in and without ceremony scoured himself upon a Raft; near the low window, where he amused himself by sundry grimaces and contortions, with which be saluted the passel' by. especially the In fantile portion. of whom it seemed to be his delight to first attract and fascinate with his oddities, and then has tily score away, much to the fear , of tender nurses.' lest the little dwarf should filghten the darlings into convul sions. Kate had seated herself at a little distance, and when she observed the attention which her uncouth -looking visitor was exciting, she endeavored to engage him in convereaUon,and amuse him with the sketches and paint. tugs whichgraced her little table. , All at once the dwarf started atsight of a picture of rare loveliness which at. tracted Macy., by the resemblance it bore to ono whom he hadchaueed to meet snore than once in his idle par• ambulation. in the vicinity of Square. "He! ha!" screamed the little fellow, hastily snatch • ing the painting from the portfolio, wheie it had lain since copied from the enginal portrait which Kate had taken for Grace, "who have we hear?" and as Kate ou tvoted gently, "It is Miss Atherton," the dwarf, much to her surprise and almost fear, slid down from his chair and rolled over and over upon the floor, performing sun- dry antics, and laughing most extravagantly, as though extremely pleased at the discovery he had Outdo. "Miga Atherton! Ins! ha! he!" again laughed he. Miss Ather ton will have cause to bless the little dwarf tiet, if all goes right." .1 ti Kato sat amazed, thinking him beside himself, whoa at that moment, the latch key was heard turning in the door. A well known step approached, and in en Instant her brother, unconscious of the presence of a stranger, crisped her in his arms and imprinted his customary kiss upon her brow. "Phillip:" said Kate, releasing herself from his warm, embrace, "you have a visitor here who has waited some timtfor you," and as she spoke. her brother's eye for the first time glanced upon the figure of the little dwarf who had stood almost , shielded from observation behind the curtain which hung from the wind ow, from whence he now issued upon hearing Kate's voice. "Hal you aro the Philip Manson whom I wished to see and with whom I have important business," and as be uttered the word, he chuckled with groat glee. as theiugh the bare idea that he, the dwarf, should carry within his little person BO momentous a secret were too much for his gravity, and he laughed aloud and almost shouted, to the woxdOrment of Philip and his sister. It "covering from his surprhte. l'hilip extended his hand - ...Well! my little fellow, 1 : al your service, and as it a •ert s you have somewhat to say to me, pin may e'en r, e. k out for I huvo no secrets ro it my si'ster Kate," and he looked fondly upon her as ho spoke. Tho dwarf too, seemed won by the_owoet espresion of that gentle face, and approaching Philip, he, in a milder voice, began and told him all for which ho had sought him at that hour, going back to the first night when he had wbatched the old attorney in his treasure room, and recounting the various scones lie bad witnessed through -the key hole in , that old colt—telliag him of his own con victions, ever present within himself, that the old miser was playing false, until that last fatal night Whenlsuch a desperate game was accomplished, and the wise old at torney committed that eat which left him wholly at the mercy of the iniignificant little dwarf. And then too, he spoke of Grace—of how he had often met Her, and of how she had guile wcon. him to her by the kindness shown to the "little humpback" whom the boys in the street mocked and laughed at, and she had rebuked them for their wallets malice.. to hint, and at length taking from his bosom a large package, he hand ed it to Phillip, saying: "And now here it is—the will! Yes, the true will! concealed, forged by the old attorney, but found again— discovered by the little crookback! ha! ha! we shall hait'e him, and the dwarf shall be 'avenged for the thousand alight insults passed upon him by that man," and he laughed maliciously. as he thought of the old miser. and dark schemes seemed working within the mind of that little body. Philip thanked him for all, but in vain ho offered re muneration, for that which he had accomplished. He would accept nothing save the reiterated assurances of gratitude from Kate and her brother, and saying to Philp, "And aux I must be off, for this night there is more work to bo done and who to plan it. who to serit ageing. save the little dwarf himself? Lady!" and he turned to Kato as he apuke.-"one kiss of that fair hand whose mistress spite ito kindly to the unfortunate to-night, woro worth a whole life service to _him." Kate gave him her hand. Ho clasped 'it tightly, and when released, there was a tear upon it which told that t he sympathy of that gentle woman's heart had not been lost upou'him whom she had dealt kindly with. Then with a hasty "farewell lady, farewell Philip Marston," he sprang through the doorway, and ero they had risen front their seats, the somata his shambling footsteps was heard without, as he quickly wended his way, whither they knew not. Philip' Marston and his sister had a long counsel to gether that ,eve. At length It was decided that Philip should, without further delay, proceed to Mies Atberton's residence with the will in hand, and at once display to Grace', view her true position by the terms of her moth er's will, and proclaim the attorney's double villainy. (coscLuusn PIZZr R.ZEK.) COUNSELS FOR THE YOUNG Never cast don, nby trifles. If a spider break his thread twenty times. , twenty times will he mend it again.— Make up your minds to do a thing and you will do it.— Fear not, if a trouble comes upon you; keep up your spirts though the day be a dark one. If the sun is going down, look up to the stars; if the earth is dark keep your eye 'on Heaven: With God's presence, and God's promises, a man or child may be cheerful. , '• Mind what yon run after! Never be content with a bubble that will burst, or firewood that will end in stroke aid darkness. Get that which you can keep; and which is worth keeping. Fight hard against a hasty temper. Anger will coma but resist it stroogty. , A spark may set a house on fire. A fit of passion may give you cause to mourn all the days of yotir life. NeVer revenge an injury! ' If you have an enemy. act kindly to him and make hint your friend. You.may not win bini over at once, but try again. "Let one kindness be followed by another, till you have compassed your end: By little/and little, greet things are completed; and so repeated kindness will 'soften the heart of stone. . Whatever yen do. do Itwilligly. .A boy that' is whip pod to school never learns his lessoni We IL A man that Is compelled to work, earesnot bow badly it is performed. Ho that pills off his coateheerfulty. strips aphis sleeves in earnest, end sings while be works. is the man for me. Evl! thoughts are tense en melee than /ions and titers: . for cow con keep out of, the way of wild bout* but bad -thoughts win their *ay slimy where. The cup that is full will hold no there; keep your beads and beam full of - Oott thouglita. that bad thon4hts marfind no room to 4. -- $1 . 150 A TZAR, is Adrases. Votirti ant( Viotti*. DAXXIT arose. I:= Who hip for, dread &daily work. And his appointed task would dui" • Cam plts a hay end scrim; A soulless slave; A paltry kisses A clog upon the wheels opium, With watt to do, sadstoreilaftlNlthe The maa's nom:thy to to! five. Who WW oot give, That he may lire ? ' His daily toll fur dilly fee. No: let us work! We only uk 'tetrad proportioned to our teak. We have no quarrel with the greats - No thud of ranks With wilt or bank% No eery Oa lord's estate. if wetan earn sufficient wore To set's* ow dolly ase;• Aod cap retain; rop age or pain, A faction: we ere rich indeed, No dread atoll have we of cam, We keow our worth and welghoer power', The more wit Work. theme* wo wins Success to mute Success IP wade: And to the cone that's c.. 1.4111. And joy to hiasslyirfer bU Wa'. Remember KO ha mount's ietios Who waiting thinks. And never shrinks Its indepetsiewss a sae' Who only aaltilto' :humble wealth, Enough Ibr competence and health, And leisure when hie wont' la dam To read Ma book tty chimney nook. - Or stroll at setting of the sun. - Who tolls as every men should toll. For fair reward, erect and pee. These ore the men. The test of men. '1 are the men we mean to bet THE PROPHETICDREW-DROP. A delicate child. pale, and prematurely wilts, was com plaining on a hot merning..that the poet drew-drops had been too hastily snatched away. and not allowed is gilt ter on the flowerolike other , happier dew-drops that lived the whole night through, and sparkle in the moonlight. and through the onward tomoon day. "The win," said the child, "has chased them away with his heat or swal• lowed them up in his wrath." Boon after came lain and a rainbow. whereupon thit father pointed upWard.-"Bee.° said he. "them stand the drew-drops gloriorudy reset—a glittering jewelry—in the heavens. and the clownish foot tramples on them no more. By this. my child, then art taught that what w: there on earth blot. an; again in heaven. Thus the father spoke, and knew not that hit spoke pro phetic words; for soon afte'r the delicate child. with the delicate brightness ()fhb; early winder% was exhaled like • a dew-drop into heaven. „ , • Pseuean's Wtre.—The life of the farmer ii so often made the subject of co - capita:tenter" i mam**, so upon p6ilsed for its peacefulness amiludoperidence,- thatthi farmer's wife might veryrationaltrise supposed to be tins happistwoman in the world. From her relation to the ••lords of the soil," AM should be the lady of the tall. a peaceful. healthy. independent woman. That the reverse of this is the 'general fact, will bo nuiversall,y coaeadeit by the wives of the (armors. A young farmer arrives at au age when he thinks it time for him to get married, and settle down. He has had a respectable education, and wants a woman wbo ie his eqtial. He looks about him, and makes• choice. She is a girl bred beside bun in the country. has beep well ed ucated: reared by careful parents. and is in the truest sense, a lady. She loves books. Possesses skill and taste in.music. and is in all points fitted to reign the queen of a happy hoine.' She becomes the wife of the tamer s Is ambitious to do as much tuber neighbors, and her hus band is soon avaricious enough to allow the woman of his love to become his most devoted dredge. Film thenceforth her life is one of the most unremitting toil.= It is nothing but mend and botch. cook and' bake. wash and iron, churn and make cheese, pick up chips and draw water, bear children and nurse thorn. The family enlar ge, Vie husband grows wealthy, becomes important in community, rides to town every day, takes hie ease when he chooses:--but ths clue of his faded and broken down wife know no relaxation. She may out live her husband. but rarely does, and not (Infrequently a ascend wife comes ;in to share in the money at should have been enjoyed by her predecessor, throug a quiet old age otrest - . This is no fancy sket er . It is drawn from life and in every country town and neighborhood, its trulbligness will b 3 recognized. , Now wo despise the geod-for-noth inge of fashionable life as much as any one'land have no affection for drones in any hive.- We are aware that cir cumstances sometimes demand extreme labor of theft:- mere wife, but in New England those circuinstance.s do not prevail, and while we would leave no woman to eat t he bread of idleness, we would see the class of which we are speaking, released from that circle of everlestiog drudgery which deprives them of the privilege of relax ation for a day., and the time' which they would gladly devote to the maternal education of their childreti. From this life, the girls of our day are learning to shrink not because they are lazy. but because they know that they are to be sacrificed. Not because the calling of the farmer is not respectable, but because they do not wish • to become his mistress, maid-of-all work. nits* and boot-jack. Now the foundation of all • thip wrong is in that avaricious spirit. handed down from father to son. Which makes the dollar the standard of respectability. and land the only fountain of happiness. We hope teams the day when the farmer's wife shall share the peacefulness and independence of the farmer's lot. and we call upon the ladies to engage in the reform themselves. sad to teach the lords of the soil that there is something to live for besides potatoes. and that life can be enjoyed mare truly by proper preservation of the health and beauty. ac complishment and good spirits of their compoulons.— Springfield Republican. CO7PLISIESTART.'•.4L'VairI young minister. °taming a woman weeping while he was preaching. cacti open her after the sermon. . "I petnelved. my dear friend." said he. "that you seem ed to feel very much under my diseourie thil e moming; will you give me some account Of the ittereiss of your mind?" • „ "Ah." said the woinifit. "I did Indeed, feel very Mach as you say. You Moat know. sir. that lam a poor loss widow. I had a good husband, and army week he and I would take the old as and go to the market with our little raising from the garden. and by our seleecoald *!II enough to keeptre comfiiitably. Bu, three yetis old man died, and then I had to go 'lime and do the best I Oopld. with the help 000 good bout.. 'liar" too my dear bid & waled. too. (hare she bunt intostaare.) and; here I have been alone ever slum aod,thia Wanting Ohs continued sobbing) when ;went 45. chap* autbriaid your vOleo. h sot 1440 Ko r couldn't help crying. indeed I.Colildn!t! pen:Opel" . NUMBER 14.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers