— AT TWILIGHT. am Upon a sea so calm no ripple breaks Nor frets itself to seething mass of spray, The moonbeams fall--one long, uncheckered TAY ; The arching sky & paler coloring takes, And, lingering yet, the sunset glow Enfolds, with crimson, the far peaks of snow. O'er yon the wavering lino of ses meets sky, And both are merged in faintest bar Of old ; The white clouds all their fleecy grace un- fold, Or massed in shadowy granduer lie; The sea gulls flock and spread their broad, white wings; The beacon light its radiant warning flings. ‘With pennants flying in the fitful breeze The stately ships at peaceful anchor ride, Or, dipping low, beyond our vision glide ; Nearer come strains of sweet, wild melo- dies, Rising and falling with each measured oar As eager boatmen pull for home and shore. Boston Journal, sams SAPO Postage Not Stated I was tall, overgrown, awkward and sixteen, with a prevading consciousness that my hands and feet were very large, and the added misery, in the case of the former members, that they were always red, and I never knew what to do with them when in company. I was making a visit at grandmother's delightful old- fashioned country home, one morning the dear old lady called me to her. “Here is something for you, Jim,” she said. ‘‘an invitation te a children’s party at Mrs, Edward’s.”’ “Children’s party,” I repeated, prob- ably with a shade of scorn in my voice, as indicating that I was no longer to be placed in that juvenile category. “Not children exactly,” grandma, with a smile at my masculine dignity. *‘Young people, Ishould bave said. Mrs. Edwards’ daughter Flor- ence is 14, and Tom Byrne and all the boys—young men, I should say,” a twinkle of amusement, “will there." I had sundry misgivings that I should not enjoy the party at all, being as yet very much sfraid of girls, though begin- ning to admire them as mysterious and fascinating beings. However, I accept- ed the invitation, as 1 found that all the boys I knew were going, and the party was to be quite a “swell” affair for the village. When the evening came it found me with the rest. seated in a large parlor, when corrected with be hands. which would by no means ar- range themselves in any graceful or than myself, whom I knew Byrne's sister, 1 she had given me a sweet smile when I first came now from time cast glances at me which increased at once my bliss and my confusion. Various games were suggested and played, but they were of a quiet acter. such as “Twenty Questions,’ “Proverbs,” etc., so that I had portunity of approaching any nearer Lo Mable, who showed herself very bril- in, and time TO ciarlr- 1 ing the progress of these intellectual amusements, Then somebody suggested that we should play postoffice. : “‘Postoffice | what is that? how do you play it?’ 1 whispered to Tom Byrne, my next neighbor. “Don’t you know how to play post- offise 7’ he asked, with scorn of my ignorance. ‘Oh, well, I suppose you city fellows don’t know anything.” “I never heaad of thls,” 1 assenced meekly. “Well, I'll tell you how itis; a girl asks for a letter for some boy, and then and if she says one cent you have to kiss her once.” “Oh !” said I. F “Yes, replied Tom, “and you kiss her twice for two cents, and three times for three cents. It'squitefunifitisa pretty girl,” he added judicially. “1 suppose 80,”’ 1 replied vaguely, “Put 1 forgot to tell you,” he added, “sf she says ‘postage not stated,’ then you kiss her as often as you like. Hush they are going to begin.”’ To be sure, one of the oldest boys was appointed postmaster, and one girl after another went out into the entry, each presently knocking at the door and asking for a letter, whereon the boy called for sheepishly followed her into the hall and to judge from the sounds of sereaming and scuffling which gener- ally followed, paid his postage under considerable difficulties, 1 watched the game in a state of be- wildered alarm. What if a girl should call for me! But no one did, and 1 was half disappointed, half relieved, that 1 was exempt, when at last it was Mable Byrne's turn to go out. She left the rcom with a lovely blush yn her beautiful face. The door was solemnly closed upon her, and then after a brief pause, there was a faint knock. The post-master opened the door a few inches. “What do you want 7’ he asked. “There is a letter here,” she replied. “For Mr. James Hill.” “How much to pay #”’ “Postage not stated,’’ was the faint reply. They all laughed loudly and looked at me, for that was my name, The blood rushed in crimson floods to my face. I got on my feet somehow, and with my heart torn between a wild desire to go into that hall and a wish to sink utterly away from human kind, I stumbled out of the room. The door was closed behind me and I found myself almost in darkness, as the hall was dimly lighted. I paused a thoment and then heard the faint sourd of quick breathing ; another heart was beating as violently a8 my own. For once in my life I knew what to do with my arms. I caught hold of her. 1 scarcely know how, The darkness gave me courage and I held her in a close clasp, and pressed my lips to her cheek in three or four rapid, half-frigh- tened kisses before she could free her- self from my embrace. “There, there! Mr. Hill,” she said, with a faint merry la bashful again, 1 enough now !" “Have I paid my postage 7"’ I wmered, “Indeed, ves | srr ¥ tT 3 Akai, ‘‘don’t be so In sure enough and to spare. Come, let u » back to the parlor.” the rest of the evening slave ; her partner all games, companion in the dance celled the country boys, and gloried in ing delight of the evening, her escort home, This was I turned to my home | Mabel Byrne beeame only strong at first, but sweet always, saw other girls I compared ly the picture my imagination painted of Mabe! and they never seemed half so fair and sweet as she. But then, I did not many other girls. My bashfulness, instead of dim- inishing, seemed rather to increase upon we as the v % : all, ie next day 1 in the city, a memory 5 fainter as time went on, When, 1 them penta with See years went by. 1 avoided society and was so much of a recluse from ladies that my mother was worried lest 1 should become a firmed old bachelor, anite jlaile Perhaps one rea- that my pursuits were among books, | and not among people. and at 27 ! found myself in as assistant professor 11 a’ ¥ a 1¢ » Find colleges, the salary of which ease that I resolved to devote my sum- | mer vacation to a tour in Eu urope, Fquipped with bag } i i and hammer, 4 | August found me INAKIng a pedes | tour of Switzerland, with a special view and well-traveled | to the study of its glacial system tit ha lng 1 § thology, 1 I AvVOoilaea he the wavs, thus escaping society of ly amazed when one evening, as I drew ! near the lit porary abiding place, a tall form strode { toward me out of and a the darkness | hearty voice cried out : { “Jim! Jim Hill I" “Who is it 7" nervous start. “Ah! I thouglt friend. Have you Jyrue 7° Of course not, for 1 had met him oc- I rephed, with a half was forgotten my i+ iv Tom was heartily glad to see my former com- rade, always one of the best of compan- ions, “I saw your name on the book at the inn,’’ he explained; **was sure it must be you. At any rate I thought I would start out to meet you."’ “But how came you here?” I in- quired, “in this out of the way corner of the world.” “Because it is out of the way. Mabel and I are making a trip in search of the picturesque. You know she is quite an artist 7° So Mabel was with him. My heart gave a curious thump, and for a mo- reply. “Yes,” he went on, ‘‘she is so devoted to her art that it seems to quite absorb her life. She has not thought of mar- riage, and does not care in the least for the ordinary run of society. She will be glad to see you, though,” he added consolingly, ‘‘as you are sa man of sci- ence.” We walked back together tothe little inn, and presently I was shaking hands with a beautiful and stately woman, whose bright, dark eyes flashed with the strange intensity and fire that I had never seen in any other eyes but those of Mabel Byrne, She greeted me very cordially, and after we three had taken an evening meal together, there followed a delight- ful evening in the little parlor that Tom and his sister had secured, For once in my life I felt myself quite at ease in a lady’s society. In the first place there was Tom to keep me in countenance by a predominance of my own sex in the company, then] Mabel did not expect me to talk of alry nothings, but light foam of the social whirlpool which JI never yet had been able to skim, She showed so much knowledge of the subject that I really found myself talking with earnestness and enthusiasm of the formation of the country, and especially of the glacial system and the curious marks of its action borne by the specimens I had collected, She in her turn contributed to the evening's interest by telling me of her work, and showing me her sketches, which were really of a very high order of artistic merit, There was no school- girl weakness in her handling of the brush, but a force and poetic thought that had won her already able recognition in the art, * And you have never heard of Ma- bel's paintings now 7"! Tom. “Ng.” 1 confessed. ‘You know I have been quite absorbed in my special studies,” “Yes, and you have not seen Mabel honor- of world until asked “No,” I replied, **not since that sum- when I was at my i OI, ‘Jolly times we had to," said Mrs, Edwards?" A sudden rush of utterly confused me, Tom, with some rambling reminiscences. It I dared Rurely she was blushing, blood to my face I stammered a re- to my relief, went on some seconds before look at Mabel. 100, The next morning we all went Ww on a he slopes of the mountain, Ma- in short gray suit, alpine hat, and Thus we made this, many another delightful expedi- ing materials, and tion. Li Was fe took on new colors for me. There a radiance and glory about it that I had never dreamed of before. Every day I found fresh reason for admiring my beautiful companion, and our walks through the deep valleys and ap the - It mgh mountain sides were to me like fairies, In this loveliest country of the world, with this most glorious woman by my side, I was, indeed, as one passion that took possession of 1 ity of tastes and pursuits, and the ch but woke to the overwhelming f her conversation ; grado fact low of loved her with the one great that seemed to me now of with days ONE SFO, have been always me, and $3 ie tay $y Wie Tuiure Ww al stretch out into make it glorious, or a long des in pair. And yet as soon as | had learned my own secret, my former bashfulness came with back upon me tenfold intensity, and I found myself often embarrassed in her presence, while at the thought of utierance would, as I was sure, be an impossibility. And Mabel ? A was lost, menner of subjects, grave and gay, and so strayed to marriage in general, and especially to the matrimonial lot of some of our old friends, “You remember Boyd, don’t you, Hill 7” asked Tom. . “Tall, bashful fellow, like me, I added.” “Yes,” replied Tom, laughing. “He married Miss Cutting, our former school teacher. I always thought she proposed to him." “Sensible girl 1” 1 exclaimed, “I think it is positively a woman’s duty sometimes to help a man out. You remember that book of the late Dr. Horace Bushnell, published some years ago called *A Reform Against Nature ¥’ In it he denounces the whole woman's rights movement, but maintained that every woman ought to have the right to propose marriage to the man she liked. 1 think he was scientifically correct. ’’ 1 spoke with great eagerness, looking always at Tom ; but at the last words my glance turned to Mabel, her eyes were fixed on mine, and the look I met there sent the blood to my heart with such a swift, tumultuous rush that I grew faint with confusion, and pres- ently rushed out of the room and to bed—though not to sleep. The next day I went out in the after noon by myself for a scramble through a damp and very rough gorge, where Tom and Mabel did not care to accom- pany me. I was half glad to be alone, for 1 was nervous over my audacity of the night before ; yet at the thought of Mabel's kindly eyes, so overwhelmed with blinding happiness, that 1 bad to look many times at a bit of rock before I could see the strie that denoted gla- cial action, It was late sunset when 1 reached the inn, The last rosy light was flushing the distant mountain peaks with that marvelous beguty, which is one of the woundrous charms of Swiss scenery, 1 made my way without pause to Mabel’s parlor, led there by a force that seemed to draw me by a power beyond my cou- trol. The room was quite dusk and she was alone, As I entered she came to- ward me with a quantity of letters and papers in her hands, “These came while you were awa) ¥®’ she said. Mechanically I took the papers, Among them there was a large package on which I dimly discerned the word “Due,” followed by an illegible stamp. “You bave paid something on this,’ I said: much was it¥”’ and looked up. “hov “Postage not stated,” replied Mabel, Promptly, smilingly, she uttered the words, Then her dark eves softened and faltered. or "ie + ¥ 1 wy . 3 ] were scattered over the oor, I had dacity that had been once before mine in my boyish days, Only now, as I pressed passionate and lips, I r the kisses on her brow iast to utte voice at Was ( Fuga Deart. onsuming my a Both of One Mind. In front of a a butcher sat cleaning a old 3 olL. revo.ver, WAS A rusty een use f in or years, and was to be put in order and traded off, A shoemaker be an accident.” *1 “Oh, no.” “butt | course there'll 5 isn’ will go off 777 “1 never see a revi it 7** it | presutne so,” t loaded, is it. Let Ah! I'm ng to handle wanting that weapon. satisfied now % . * lk s 14 that it doesn’t ! Do you suppose you ( ould hit my foot xt that distance ¥* “Certainly I could. Now. if she was loaded 1'd take a dead sight } ae like that and pull § trigger, h and yelled like an Indian, and he came down he danced and and galloped around until pec- It | after a crowd had collected a kicked ale thought pie thought him crazv. WAS only 1d cornered in the shop that any one found The tn the sole of his foot close wd, “I told you * howld the shoemaker, as “And $y iy itcher had pat draw bl tH + sat with his boot in his hand, fidn’t 1 » with you?” Innoocer T we butcher, — Dt ry pH mded Facts and Fancies. Ameri : Tue vanized iron pails 8 The 2 water forming a poisonous compound, SCM BAYS, Eas tbe ne coating if readily acted on by ould n« used, Tne Philadelphia Mint has bought | 20,000 pounds of nickel at! | pound. Tne Pennsylvania railroad company | each 100,650 pounds. ] . A than any heretofore built, class. which is unmailable because ad- dressed to places which are not post offices, or states, etc., in which there is no such post-office as that indicated in the address, Nixes cannot be registered. ~Tar may be readily removed from the hands by rubbing with the outside of fresh orange or lemon peel and wiping dry immediately. The volatile oil in the skins dissolve the tar so that it can be wiped off.— Scientific American, Tae reduction of the public debt up to June 30th, (end of the fiscal year) amounted to §1,217,640,746, equal to a reduction in yearly interest charge per capital of $3.34. The interest per head being now only 95 cents per year, Tne silver certificate may yet play a more important part in commercial transactions than heretofore. Many banks are reducing, and not a few oth- ers are altogether giving up their circu- lation, mainly on account of the tax levied on it, as is alleged, At present there is nothing to prevent this being done to an embarrassing extent, and damaging centraction result. Just here the silver certificate may come in and restore the loss. Indeed this has already been dove, large amounts of these certificites having gone last week to ‘move She ,Bilver itself from its dificult portability cannot be conven jently used, but an acceptable substi. tute may, to 4 large extent, be found inthe hitherto little esteemed certifi- cates, Every situation seems oppor tunely gifted With the power of com- pensation, when it is required by oir umstances, ! § Agricultural, About Stables. animals would be seen. good points are from Whip and Spur :— “Tet your stable be well drained and sufficiently lighted, The vapors from a dram, putrid floor, and the sudden change from darkness to light, wil Let the floor of the stall be quite fiat is very painful, apd causes lameness branes, It also produces grease and sore heels, Every stall should be at This will enable the horse to turn round without bruising himself, and to lie down and stretch himself with comfort. not by bars, They prevent the horses from fighting and kicking each other. Lt proper openings be made just under the ceiling, to permit the hot, foul air | to escape, and proper openings at | bottom of the wall to admit fresh air, confined will The and d. { Impure i broken alr fresh air cause win should | than a large hole, such as an open win- | dow, That prevents draughts, which | cause chills and coughs, { ture of a stable should be that of a sit- | ting-room or parior ; not | degrees in over seventy Hot, on glanders or irflammation, ! in close foul stables { will bring winter. or | cause an incurable cough or disease of the lungs, the manger. | the animal make is both unpleasant and If the hay must be kept horse, ceiling of plaster. This will measure prevent vapors from passing up to the food. To not keep the hay over | unwholesome, the should be | OVer the between | the manger from the hay-loft, Dust when fed in this way, and thus blind- | ness is begun. The breath ascends di- rectly to the food through the opening, | ual draught down on the horse's head, thus causing chills as well as bad food. How to Transplant. bed ; one at a time, and carefully placed in baskets or int ¥ 3 . s11 = : 4 5 y # rain as the soil will admit of stirring. New ground may be planted immedi- ately after a rain, but old should not, jest it cake around the plant when dry An from 2000 to 4000 and injure it, expert man transplant per day, 4 1) 800 endurance 10 } . Ts ' * Gay. he leaves Of i be drawn together that of ground. The soil should be well pressed { and the plant set 50 ll just reach the surface the against the roots of the plant, using care 10 leave no hollow space below it. Plants are often lost by the carelessness of the upper part of the root, leaving the lower efwemity dangling | made by the dipple. If the plant bed is not well moistened by the rain to the | depth of the roots of the plants it should | be thoroughly wet by artificial means be- in Journal, Slugs and Snalis. a late issue of Revue Horticole, in regard | to the destruction of these creatures, which are so harmful where they are | abundant, is particularly worthy of | attention, and it is hoped that at last | we have a quick and easy method of | despatching them when they make their appearance. Some pulverized sulphate of copper (blue vitriol) is mixed with coarse wheat bran, and the mixture placed about the garden where the slugs can have access to it ; they scent the bran and greedily eat it, but al most immediately die from the effects of the copperas. In using this mixturein the open air where there is danger that birds might eat it and thus be poisoned, it must be protected so as to prevent access of the birds while allowing slugs to reach it. ‘This can easily be done by enclosing a little space with small sticks | fet upright, and covering it so that the slugs can crawl through, while the birds are fenced out.— Vick’s Maga- mine, Sng Dox'r Smoke. —The very gal lant Senator Grady and the silver-tone gued Eoclesine were getting off a train at a New York Elevated station when the former noticed a blooming and rosy-cheeked girl behind him on the platform. ‘Shall I not help you to alight #* he asked, extending his plump hand and lifting the straw hat that covered his ambrosial curls, ‘Thank you very much,” replied the pretty damsel, with a ravishing smile, “but I don’t smoke.” Sensation among the passengers and the Senator aghast. Ws a AI sis. ~The Virginians are making Sour from peanuts, —— A German Housemaid. dl Ey She was one of the servant-girle one sees going about in German cities bare- weather, wearing a dark-blue calico carrying a basket, As American hired girls had loog been a study with us, and an interesting one, we set ourselves to study Elise, and soon discovered to which class she She was seventeen, the oldest of a poor widow, lived in the country. She slept in a little bare under the roof, among the cooing doves, and every morning early was wakened from her slumbers by the | Her first duty was to kindle the fire in {the kK which she did by meant of small bundles of straw, using Then she oust mop up oor aud sprinkle sand on it, tile-paved hall. When ghe could pause a few a cup of black cofiee | and eat a couple of slices of brown itchen stove, 1 a little wood, the stone fi | and scrub the done ! moments to drink this was bread—the pumper-nickel of Westpha- | lia—with butter. Then she must polish | the brass mountings and utensils of the stove, and from that time go on con- the chamberwork up- | stairs, sweeping and dusting the sitting and dining-rooms down stairs, running | out with her basket and a few groschen | to buy something at one of the neigh- gtantly, doing boring shops, peeling potatoes and pre- | paring other vegetables, all the time driven by the voice and presence of | Friiulein. | In short, all the drudgery fell to her | lot. Her hands were hard and red, her | good-natured, ruddy face of ten smirched her hair powdered, with ashes her apron marked with In fact she had a i genius for getting dirty, and Fraulein or , and | signs of her work. wear two aprons, the top one on er- | rands. t her marked characteristic | was her destructiveness. It might be | said that her pathway was strewn with The bed-room pitchers were noseless and handleless through the lamp chimneys slipped and shivered to rarely a dish-wash- | made her ! to be laid off when she ran out Ju broken dishes, her agency ; through ber bands | pieces on the floor | ing passed that some cup, saucer, gravy- | dish. tumbler or other article did not come to grief at her hands, As everything broken | wag charged against her, this unlucky 4 Ol the price habit reduced her wages considerably, not seem to depress her spir- +4 asion: on the breaking of lly . » expensive article, such as a she broke forth into it it soon passed away and Was as and smiling as Four students who lodged up- stairs took their dinners and suppers in the sitting-room of one of their number, and it was Elise’s duty to carry up these meals on a large tray. This afforded | her a fine opportunity to display her | individuality. Now one article, now | another, would slip off the tray and | break, and on more one oe- she fell with tray and | spilled the entire contents on the stairs. | This was foliowed by loud and unre- strained weeping on ber part, and a severe scolding from Friulein ; but the | next time she ran up the steps singing, and as careless as ever. Onde in draw- | ing a cup of coffee from the brass urn | which always stood on the stove, she did not turn it of entirely, and the coffee all ran out on the floor; and another time she threw all the soup out of the window by mistake. She was | continually making blunders in laying the table for meals, forgetting now the spoons, now the napkins, now the | fat, which heid the salt, pepper | and mustard. When called to account for her neglect, she came blushing and with confusion of face, but never Jearned by experience to be more care ful another time. She was never in- trusted with any responsible part in the cooking. Friulein attendod to all that ber self, so that her carelessness could not show itself in burned or ill-cooked food, but in her province she remained true to her character, She shut up Frio Jein’s kid slippers in the oven one day and burnt them to a crisp ; and one day she came running in from the wash. ip Lureen, ols, bit she cheerful ever. than | gasion the kitchen in the back yard screaming with fright, her dress and apron ablaze. Friiulein threw the contents of the water-bucket on her and extinguished the flames, then sent her to her lit~ tle room up in the roof to change her clothes and finish her crying fit. ™ Elise seemed never to think of leaving her place, no matter how many hard sooldings she received, and never dis. played any sullenness or resentment, — Lippinoot’s. They are the safest who marry from the standpoint of sentiment rather than feeling passion or mere love,
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