FAITH'S MESSAGER
Out in the stormy night
‘With not a star in sight,
And moaning winds that wander wearily.
Rocked in his leafy nest,
And vexed and sore distressed,
A little lonely bird pipes drearily.
And I within my room,
‘Who know that morn has come,
in pitying love would say, ‘Oh, little bird,
The night would have no chill,
The rain thou wouldst not feel
“That is often the way these aristo-
word !
“For close again thy tree,
That seems so dark to thee,
Even now the rising sun has flashed his
old ;
And in & moment more
Exultant thou wilt soar,
Babette, dipping her hand into the foun-
tain and tossing some drops of water
about contemptously, as if they were
“They eat
bold.”
And thou, oh fainting heart,
That shrink 'st when winds upstart,
And canst not rest is sorrow's bitter night
If thou couldst only hear
Faith's message in thine ear,
And calmly wait until the morning light!
For morn will surely come;
Even now the shades of gloom
In her soft light are fading fast away
'Tis but a moment more,
And, free, thy soul shall soar,
And speed on tireless wing to endless
-—
The Secret of the Chateau.
{to
is become of all
what
the rich plate and jewels that belong to
the family ?"’
“1 wonder
sajd Rose, the eldest of
“Oh, M. le Mayor will soon find out
“He will be
the chateau, depend upon it, by to-mor-
11 look
cried Babette, in
before, and he
He's a man that knows what
and who has no false fine
about the aristocrats,
sOme of
the plu
Revolution, when the reign of
churches and stopped every outward
of
land.
n the
religious form, and when the Reign
Terror was at its height in the
The little town of Verreville, ir
south of France, lay all wrapped in
n
a
glory of evening sunshine that w rought
rare magic among the dingy houses and
Now
it played golden jokes with the fountain
in the drowsy streets and alleys.
that danced in a broken basin in the
little square ; now it clothed with a new,
wonderous, charm
gable of yonder old decaying mansion |
picturesque
now it glided into a small gloomy bi k
ne Of ass
1
or
Is Ailes
+
nti
Hw
by changing every }
tiny windows round it |i a
gem,
Up the principal streets of Ul
came lumbering.a cart
It
spread
bear
burden. was a coffin, over
was a coarse,
mantle by way of pall.
the heavy eart ho
vehicle walked a dark-robed
man
Minan,
man and a wi
funeral party advanced ove:
pavement, that made the wl
cart jolt noisily, and with
f
i
sound of woe. Slowl)
through the river o
they went, two or th
ing with their pitcl
tan, i
tched
watch
them
had a touch of sorro
made their comments, as
tones,
a
HOW
home of he
cing
la Comtesse, as a bri
11 1
nel the 0
Oia LAL :
to ab ave 13
of lackeys in , and t
of the six gray horses and the «
of the crowd as she threw ail
at
ine
rain
that thi
among them
And now to th
funeral of her daughter!
ink
the
seen strange changes in the land
was your age, Babette, my child.”
Babette tossed her head and the red
handkerchief upon it 1
fully,
a little disdain-
as if her modem lights showed
her things which were more worthy of
note than anything which the old
woman's memory could call up out of
the past.
“What good were they in the land,
those aristocrats “wh
were of no more use than the statues
in the garden of the old chateau, where
we poor folks can wander now with our
babies or our sweethearts at our will.”
“But the young countess was of a
different pattern from those who went
before her,’ here put in a third woman.
“When my husband lay sick with the
fever, and everybody fled from our
cottage on account of infection, she
came to visit us, and stood by his bed
often and felt his pulse better than the
doctor, and sent him strengthening
food and medicine, She was no more
like her grandmother, who used, when
I was a child, to go rolling along in
her coach, all one piece of silk and pride,
than one of the glittering buttons on the
livery coats of the count’s footmen was
like a bright bit of money that we can
spend to buy chocolate and sugar, and
all sorts of goed things that will rejoice
our husband's and children’s hearts.”
“Well, anyhow, if she had not died
now she soon would,” said Babette,
decidedly, ‘‘Her husband is in the
prison at Toulon, and she was quickly
enough to have followed him there, I
know on good authority ; and what a
prison ends in for aristocrats in these
days we all know better than we used
to know our paternosters in the times
when it was the fashion to say them.”
“Her death seems to have been a sud-
den and rather strange one,’’ said the
old woman who had first spoken,
“Yes,” replied the elder woman ; ‘‘it
was but two days since I saw her cross-
ing the foot-path through the field op-
posite our cottage.”
“They say she fell down in a fit as
she was standing before her dressing-
?'* she cried. ey
“Fifine looks grave and sad
dead mis
other
frees R
LISS Bb
her
the
as she walks by
body,” remarked elder
woman.
“No
Rose
wonder, poor
“they were brat
1 hy
i eau other more
ind servant.
gad
“But for all her looks
wager my silv
cat's necklace,
ing more of h
the dead.
for her, In
companion in
she's a sly Ol
and her sm
no more in it
ia
Babette
of
into which she probably would
Babette had her own special train
thought,
not exactly have liked any of }
to look.
“* As sure as
wr friends
the countess’ diamonds
are real, and not glass V'—this was the
way in which
“ Pierre shall try his luck to-night. I
don’t see why Babette and Pierre should
not be the fortunate pair, as
Fifine and Maurice."
41
her reflections ended-
well as
Meanwhile the young man and the
girl, of whom their neighbors’ mouths
and minds had just, all unconsciously
to their two selves, been so full, had
reached the church for
of their sad errand. No religious cere-
monies of any kind were permitted at
this time in France. But still the ser-
vants of the young Comtesse de Florion,
perhaps recollecting that in her life she
had scarcely clung to the rites of her
ehurch, were going to lay her remains
in hallowed ground, and a portion of the
pavement beneath the southern wall of
the church and inside the building had
been raised to allow of the body being
placed beneath it. The family vault of
the De Florions was far away in a dis-
tint large town ; but, as the troublous
times forbade the countess’ remains
being transported thither, her servant
and foster sister and companion, Fifine
de Fouviere, had chosen the interior of
Verreville church as their resting-place,
As long as no religious rites were used,
the civil authorities of the little town
had made no objéction to this arrange-
ments,
“ Maurice will do all the rest,” said
Fifine, when the coffin had been lowered
into the place prepared for it, turning to
the two men who had been helping them
in their mournful work. ** I should like
my poor mistress’ own faithful servant
to perform the very last offices for her.’
“1t is strange that Fifine de Fouv.
the completion
more evide.t in outward signs,”
the elder of the men to his companion,
as they withdrew from the church in
obedience to the girl’s words. **1 had
expected to see her drowned in tears.”
{
ments for the casket of diamonds, but
it had vanished like gems seen in a
He discovered the strong iron
usually kept his
between them before the lady died. If
is always so, sooner
sons and daughters of the people form
close bonds of intimacy
with an aristocrat,” the
man, who was none other than Babette’s
said
as his future most emphatically better
was often in a very hazy state about
them, even when he expressed them the
loudest,
“Well, 1
old
know.”
‘
of it,
don’t
thougtfully.
he
can’t
but
man, Bay
what may be 1 cause that
girl's face and
than the change of the wind.”
1 the face of Fifine de Fouvriere
inly was a face that any man might
have found it difficult
she
i
to read the mean
by
bly pretty bin
ULC
1
ing of as stood ther the
hs
oie
wis
whose feature , generally,
ling with animated tho
i
all Spal K-
nght
Mill «Ada
1 went Swill,
+1
Line i to the
play from
mouth, But to-d whole face
“Must I go a
-
with me ¥ We shoul
pleasanter
hae)
much j
pany in an old house
and there was a death
(n
sav it’s haunted,
' »
1! sweet Babette, do,
here so lately,
please, come with me.”’
“May I be
* answered that young
stewed in a
pol
lady,
Tu~feu
first, very
forcibly and laconically. **You go along,
Pierre, and look sharp, and don’t
such a mixture of mule and a milksop.
I shall stay here and watch.”
she pushed her true knight
further ceremony through
which she had opened.
So saying,
without
the door
On went Pierre, his teeth chattering
and his heart beating in unison, the
narrow windows of the old house, play-
ing strange, uncanny games with him
as he went.
ure seemed lurking in yonder corner,
now a pale hand beckoned to him in a
moonbeam, now the shadowg formed
themselves into a long black procession
which came to meet him. With care-
fully held breath, and feet that searce
servants’ rooms lay: but to his joy and
relief he heard no sound there. The
family portraits as he passed them in
the long gallery, came to life, now and
then, in a ray of moonshine, and glared
at him : the wind whispered something
mysterious and startling to him through
every keyhole ; the rows of chairs in
the rooms looked as if they were wait.
ing for a party of ghosts, But the
worst of all was that, carefully as he
had been schooled beforehand by Bab-
¢tte as to the whereabouts of all the
valuables in the chateau, he got nothing
for his pains. He ransacked the pantry,
which he had expected to find full of
plate, but found nothing better than a
pewter spoon. He sought hither and
ther in the dead countess’ apart.
was not so easy to send to bank for sup-
plies ; but though wus there it
not a son in it.
to to return
his liege lady,
the box
It was terrible have
who
would be certain to lay the whole blame
for the failure of their enterprise on his
and light
still such a fate was better
the
With flying steps he sped along
which
to make it
10
burden too ;
risking meeting ghosts any
he had to
the
which
the corridor traverse
Arrow staircase
of was the door
h
was it that, before he had passed half
ght
windows
he passage, which was lit by
$s
rough
moonbeams fell,
Way
& wl
W100
A des
would
ire,
shape
Lie
other apparitio
ed him to
onward
chateau, and
arrest and
ein
had coll
F'oulon,
paratory
to the trying with his wife to make
after the
the good
of Verreville be
turbed by stories which went
the concerning
being haunted, It was
people who had passed the old
It months
that
began
was some few
just narrated
0 dis-
mting
the
said
about town
in
light gleaming through the
windows : but hitherto those who told
The old church was now completely
religious services had, it is
formed in the land, but in Verreville
new chapel which had been
began, and lately finished. Thus the
old church had become a place well
fitted for ghosts to frequent.
We must mention here that the Count
de Florion had escaped, in some way
that had never been explained, from his
prison at Toulon, the very day after his
wife's funeral, and had made his home,
it was said, since then in England. As
for Fifine and Maurice, they had married
soon after their mistress’ death, and
were now living on a little farm which
they had taken near the town, and
which they cultivated with care and
Success,
But to return to the mysterious light
in the old church, One night Babette
and Pierre, who were still plighted
lovers, though the extreme contempt of
the maiden for her adorer had hitherto
prevented the final knot being thed,
were coming back from a friend’s house,
where they had spent the evening.
When they reached the old church,
both of them perceived that there was,
most certainly, light shining through
its windows, Pierre's immediate im-
pulse was sudden flight, but Babetts,
still true to her colors as a philosophic
free thinker, declared her intention of
clearing up once for all the mystery,
Pierre wait
close by, and then boldly advanced hers
She made the trembling
self toward one of the church windows
and looked in,
As Babette gazed at the sight which
met her view it
114
vas so strange and ut-
hat
eyes, thinking she must be under some
optical illusion, but when she looked
still there, What
was, shortly, this, and it was little
wonder that she
terly unaccounatble t she rubbed her
again it was all she
BAW
was bewildered
beheld
the
with
the
side
wildest astonishment : She
grave and
Fi the
glittering
Ow
per,
i
fine, farmer's
of
“a heap of gold
wife,
HARE SOT
feet,
‘ forse wrk
melted
morning mist ; the notio
ALIONALIBLL
treacherously,
most
like
14 i
tv flashed across
1, and she sank
For the Fair Sex
MERINOS ~~ Quaker
gray, dove and cloud gray are
Inerinos
combined with velvet to make street
toilets for spring. A pleated flounce on
the bottom of the skirt,
velvet bands, which also form the trim-
trimmed with
ming of the draperies, corsage and cuffs,
Hand-
figures
embroidery
fashionable garniture for black Ottoman
ailk dresses,
nakes a very elegant costume.
run ls with
Andalusian lace
heavy as those of
Aas
is the
A Srirar TAPER, — Amber wax can-
dles moulded in deep spiral curves have
appeared in the shop windows, This
shape is to keep the wax from guttering
down the sides irregularly as the candle
is consumed. The lower ends of the
candles are sensibly cut away in grooves
%0 that they can fit into an ordinary can-
dlestick without * wobbling ** or
sitating bands of paper. Besides amber,
other pretty colored tapers are old blue
and framboise pink.
110CeS-
Piano Bexcnes.—The piano stool,
which like the Mauritian dodo still
lingers in out-of-the-way corners of the
world will soon become an oxtinet
species. Though not of Celestial origin
it too “must go,'’ that is, the conven-
tional and most uncomfortable round
stool which swing round and round and
round, with occasional danger of spin-
ning off into space. They are replaced
by piano chair or benches. A low broad
bench is covered with richly stamped
leather of a dull crushed raspberry or
copper color, embossed with flecks of
old silver or gold. A longer mahogany
bench, with carved back, is shaped to
accommodate duet-players. These can
match either the piano case or the wood
of the furniture of the music room.
Cabinét makers are furnishing piano
chairs with tall legs, upholstered to match
the parlor or musie-room ure.
Warm Milk as a Health Re~
storer.
Considerable has been lately said in
medical journals concerning the valus
milk
diseases,
of warn as a remedial agent in
The at
Work, referring to an interesting article
on this subject which lately appeared
in the London Mik
the authority
certain Christian
Journal, states on
of Dr.
Indj
Benjamin Clarke,
milk
a specific
that in the East WAI is
for
hours
diarrhoea,
used to a great
A
will check ths
four
diarrhoea,
most violent
and
be
stomachache, incipient cholera
lysenten I'he milk should never
sit l
ntly to be
drink.
for
gives several instances
which
agreeably warn } hot to
Milk
Lilet,
which has been boiled is unfit
in arresting inease, ANong
is the following :
The
never failed
and 1
writer
fil
:
§ wi onsiag HS ID
g
Hard green wood, fibre stuff
SLLLER
ws
$41 : water,
1. fibre stuff, 270: ater. 300, and
WON
r. 305.
1
wil,
obser-
orrect
If M. Risler has made «
vations, the wheat plant never grows
upon any day when the temperature of
ot for a period of several
43° Fahren-
he air does 1
hours at least above
heit.
The New York Times
is one thing to be said about the incan-
rise
+}
savs that there
descent electric light with all its draw-
backs. It neither vitiates the air nor
gives the high and often unbearable
temperature of gas,
Town sewage does not, according 10
iron pipes
competent authority, affect
with lead joints so much as ordinary
water. The greasy matter appears 1o
form the of the
pipes giving the needed protection,
The lesseps plan for the inland sea
in Algeria is to cut a canal between
Gabes and Biskra, the chief centres of
North African trade, connecting several
“ehotts,” the first of which is assorted
to be rt least fourteen times as large as
the Lake of Geneva,
-—— m—
a coating on inside
The birthplace of Thomas Carlyle, at
Ecclefechan, in Scotland, has been pur-
chased by his niece, Mrs. Alexander
Aitken Carlyle, who will take steps for
permanent preservation of the edifice.
Many persons have of late visited the
house, and Mrs, Carlyle intends to put
it in the care of some one by whom it
can be properly shown to visitors, The
house is known in Eeclefechan as “the
arched house."
a———— A —
The Mexican Congress will meet in
the City of Mexico. It is said that
President Gonzalez, in his message,
will urge the greatest economy in the
administration and discourage the
granting of further subventions te
railroads,