WORTH WHILE, Can the flower Jook sunward pnd lovelier grow ¥ ay Comes not more than mere color with life's overflow 2 Come not sweetest of odors to float through the breeze? With the long days “of summer amid’ the green trees? Can the river forget the spring in the helght Where mem’ry gleams, mountain-like,glis- tening and white? . Does not infancy fasten its touch on the boy 1s not man more a man for the earlier joy ? Oh ! flowers that look upward, oh ! rivers and trees, Ye mountains in distance, what messages these ? All tell the old story, the story of life, Sometimes a carnival, sometimes a strife; But out of the fighting as out of the earth, The buds of rejoicing and victory have birth. Is not sleep the sweeter that soothes weary eyes? Are not stars the brighter that shine from dark skies? Ce Is not living best lived that most of life is Is not life most of life that is nearest to Hig Nearest His whose life is the truest of all? The life that is light with no darkness at ¥ Nearest His whose life is the light and the way, pa nile. alway.” doue is thiv—“0 am wiih Whe you of who slumber awhile, irs for above stile, Ye are singing a song, the song of the soul That, fet*ered so off, yet speeds towards its goal, Man's spirit immortal gaios highest of skies Whose wings most are tried cre upwards Oh! the weary Mite i Oh lst us that sparkle and he lies. AE SIRT “A WOMAN'SLOYVE." “1 can’t imagine, Estelle, how you came to be so decidedly plain; beauty is rather a characteristic of our family.” [Tere Mare Darcy glanced with a satis- fied air at lds handsome face reflected in an opposite mirror, while a slight flush arose tothe dark, almost swarthy, cheek of the young girl seated vis-a-vis to hmm, and the delicately shaped hands trembled slightly as they sought to continue the work they were occu- pied with. ss] believe vou favor your father?" contmued the gentleman, J “Yes, Lam like my father. He was not handsome, but so noble, so good. Iwas so proud of lum, Inpever thought about his looks. 1 am sorry, more for your sake than mine, that 1 am not beautiful. Your wife should be, but Marc——" with a quick, impulsive motion, the young girl bent down be- side her betrothed and laid her dips ca- ressingly to his hand, adding: “Fou will not love me the less? You who are so handsome, who could have chosen from so many, yet asked me to be your wife. You are all the world to me, Marc. No one could love you more than 1.” With rather an uneasy laugh, Mac Darcy, placing his arm about his com- panion, replied: “Tears. Estelle? Why, what kas come over yeu? It just happened to strike me that it was rather strange vou were not as beautiful as the rest of the women in our family, but thea you have some redeeming points. Pretty eyes and good teeth—no small item toward good looks, I can assure yeu, wy dear.” A pleased cok crossed Estelle’s face at the last words of her intended, and twining both arms about his neck «he said: “* And you don’t mind it 50 very much if I am plain? You will always love me?” “+f course 1 shall,” came the reply, as Mare kissed her lightly on the fore- head, adding, half laughingly: “Perhaps, Estelle, 1 shall put yeur love to the test some day. Will it {ail ;me, I wonder?” Raising her head from its resting place upon Marc’s shoulder, Estelle’s eyes sought his. There was a strange intensity «dn their dark depths and she answeged slowly, as if weighing each word: “1. do not think you quite understaad me, or my love for you, Mare. It is as the breath of my life; vet if ever came to believe that it was for your happicess for me to give you up, { would do so at any cost to myself.” Before Mare could reply, Estelle had passed quickly from the room. . selecterla cigarette from a handsomely- embroidered case, thinking; **What a strange girl Estelle is, She is right. 1 don’t kelieve I do under- stand her, poor little thing, how earn- est she js. I should not have spoken about her plainness; but there it is, thete is ne denying t. However, as she is to be say wife, [ suppose I shall Jave to make the best.of it. I'll buy Jer the handsomest bragelet 1 can find far a pease-affering.’”’ Mare Darcy was an only son, Hand- some as ahi Adonis, with @ fascinating mawner, which, svken he chose to exer- cise it, few could resist, Mrs. Darcy had Been left a widow with consider- able property, but her son’sextravagant drains npon ber purse had greatly re- duced ker income, Maze was not by aw weans a bad fellow, hut simply se ind ulgent toward himself, Estelle Merten was the daughter of 3 comsin of Mrs, Jarcy’s, On the death of her father, which oceurzed about Sighteen pniha before my 0 Estel taken a at Kenn the home of Mrs, Darcy. Aunt t, as Estelle always called her, was her only velati ons woman, although minded, with but dne engrossing idea— S01. : Estelle had been an inmate of Mrs, home only a few weeks before t to the widow, how woul if Marc and Hstelle ps jo pressing poser! ea Toy off out o une she was an As Estelle’s hus. band, Marc's future would be for, and when ber tune came #he would boy. Estelle was a passionate admirer’ of beauty, and, almost ere she was con- scious of it, she loved Mare with her whole soul, and Mare at his mother’s instigations had carelessly drifted into the situation of Estelle’s lover. Of too noblé a nature to see aught but the good in others, Estelie never dreamed that it might be her money, and not herself, that had induced Marc to choose her for his wife, Some few weeks after the opening of our story found Mrs. Darcy and Estelle seated at breakfast, Marc had run up to town for a day or two, As Estelle returned a letter she had just been reading to its envelope, Mrs. Darcy remarked ; From your triend, is it not, dear?” Does she say when we may expect her?’ “ Yes, she writes we may look for her to-morrow, by the 2:40 train, Oh! aunt ! think how sad it is for her, left alone so young ; only 17, and obliged to earp her own living, I am so glad you are willing I should ask her here for a few weeks, She is sobright and pretty, I cannot imagine Inez being sorrowful. me—it was only my money,’’ seemed to stab itself into her heart, Fighting with her despair, the strick- en woman cried out, unselfish even in her agony: “Mare! Mare! my husband! make you happy if'1 could!” They were nearing their journey’s end, and Mare had perceived no differ- ence in his wife. His thoughts were elsewhere. Had they nof been he would have seen how pale and thin she had grown, and that never of her own accorfl did ber lips caress him, Then came the night when they were startled from their sleep by the cry of danger, ‘ Women shrieked and clapsed their little ones to their breasts, while men, white to the lips, hurried on deck to be driven back by the wild flerceness of the storig. Waves like gigantic moun- tains hurled themselves against the ship, under which she staggersd and reeled and righted herself again, only to be struck down anew. : Valiantly the good boat fought her fight against the deep. Mast after mast was torn away, till she lay bare, trembling hike a wounded human, at the mercy of the angry waters, She I would We will try and make it very pleasant for her, won't we, aunt?” “Of course, my dear,” answered Mrs, Darcy. -* I always wish to make my guests happy and comfortable,” and thus the subject was dismissed for then. The following week Marc arrived one afternoon at home. In his care- less manner, he had omitted to send word of his return; consequently Murs, Darcy and Estelle were out, returning calls. Learning this from one of the serv- ants, Marc made his way to the west drawing-room, the coziest room in the house, Opening the door, he stood transfixed upon its threshold, A young girl was reclining, fast asleep, on the One dimpled arm, bare to the elbow, while one tiny hand rested under the baby chin. Soft, floss-like hair curled in golden rings about the white fore- head and fair neck. With an exclamation of surprise, Mare turned to go; at which a pair of bewildered blue eves opened and gazed had sprung a leak. All night the men | worked at the pumps, cheered by their { brave captain, who told them they must { be close to the Dover cliffs, and they might yet all reach the shore in safety. Inez clung trembling to Mare, while Estelle, calm and collected, moved about amongst the women, helping with a ready hand. Little children grew quiet at her touch, and wmathers ceased to bewail their fale, Mare never forgot the pale graudeur of his wife's face as she passed to and fro amongst all the confusion Towards dawn the storm abated somewhat, but a dense fog enveloped them like a shroud, { At last the order was given to man lifeboats, Sobbing women and frightened children were quickly lifted over the ship's side; while warm-hearted sailors bade them cheer up, for land wis close at hand, As they lowered the last boat Es- telle, laying her nand upon her hus- band’s sim, sald: “Marc, if anything sboulll happen Wo i the questioningly at him. Then hastily springing from her recumbent position, the young girl stood blushing before him. As Marc made his apologies, she terrupled with : “Oh! I know. You are the gentle- man Estelle is engaged to; then I don’t mind. It’s pot so bad as if you had been astranger. How you scared me,’ Here one little dimple, then another, crept forth, till a merry peal of laugh- ter rippled through the room, in which Mure joined. When Mrs, Darey and Estelle turned they found Inez, for it was she, and Mare chatting away like old friends, In spite of Inez’s recent loss, which dated only two months back, her child- ish, mirth-loving nature could take no hold of sorrow. Her tears were like April showers, quickly over. ii having spent most of her life at board- ing-echool. Mr. Cline had been a self ish, pleasure-loving man, who took but hittie thought of his motherless child; lived close up to his iocome, leaving Inez penniless at Lis death, she owed to Estelle’s generosity. The weeks slipped by, and still Inez remained a guest at Sunnyside, At first she talked a good deal of going out asgoverness, but later on she ceased to do so. Somehow Estelle and Mare were very seldom alone these days. Inez, with her pretty, helpless ways, contrived to monopolize a great deal of Marc's time, Yet Estelle was pleased that it should be so. In her noble heart there was no room for jealousy. No thought that Inez, with her saucy, kittenish ways, might win her lover from her. Her faith and trust in Mare were perfect. The wedding day drew nigh. Inez was to be bridesmaid, and then Es- telle with her warm impulsive nature had proposed that she should accom- pary them to Europe on their bridal tour, and Inez had clapped her hands like a cehild, exclaiming: “Oh, if I only could! How I should like it!” Mrs, Darcy, wisor than the rest, perhaps, had judged it best for Inez to remain with her; but Inez had pouted and come as near showing temper as such a weak little creature could, and had gained her way. It was decided that she should company the bridal pair, Marc and Estelle were man and wife, and the steamer was bearing them on teward England's shores. Inez, too sick to move and wishing herself Lack on land, was in her state-room, with ever thoughtful Estelle tending and petting her, rewarding ber busband with a fond smile whenever he came to inquire after the sick girl, How good of him, Estelle thought, when he so disliked the sight of sickness or anything unpleasant, It wie Mare who carried Inez on deck aud arranged the ruge and pil lows, bearing with her whisas when Estelle grew almost indignant at her friend's peevishness toward her hus- band. . One evening Estelle, suffering from a severe headache, retired early to her state-room, but finding the air below very close she seturned to the deck. Seeking ber husband and Inez she drew near the wheel-house, Suddenly she paused and stood still as if turned to stone. In the shadow of the wheel. house were her husband and Inez Inez’s golden head lay apes his breast, aud there was a fond ring to Mares tones that Estelle had never heard be- fore as he uttered these words: “For God's sake stop y little one! You will drive me . You know that 1 love you as 1 never loved Estelle, but I was forced to marry her, If I bad been rich then I could have ygolt, but as it was it would ing AC» Jlennd folly.” Noe ay the ps of the woman whose heart had been crushed by these words of her husband, onl us she blindly groped her way back x me, I want you to believe thal my | greatest wish was for your happiness. | You once said that perhaps some day { you would put my love to the test, | You wondered if it would fal you. { It shall not fail you. Mare, my hus- ! band, kiss me just once as—as if you | loved me. ”’ | “Estelle! my wile, I and Mare {clasped his wife to heart with | something of the love that should have | been hers from the first, For a mo- i ment she clung to him; then gently | withdrawing herself from his arms, she sald: | “See, Inez is faint. her, 1 am strong—now, { myself.” | The little crowd pressed eagerly for- | ward, and were rapidly lowered to their i places, The captain was the last to {quit the ship. Wich fast - look to see that none were left he | drew his hand quickly across his eyes odash away the tears that would come t the thought of the fate of the good | ship that had carried him in safety for | many a year. Then, dropping into the | boat, he gave the word to pull off. In the darkness and hurry none bad | missed the gentle woman who had come i forted them all in their boar of need. | Estelle’s husband, to do him justice, | believed hex safe in the boat with them | all; but, instead, she stood alone upon the deck of the now ‘ast sinking ship, her eyes trying to pierce the darkness that hid the man she loved better than her life forever from her sight. Alone! no, not quite. Something touched her hand. It was Carlo, ber hushand’s great Newfoundland dog. Patting him, she pointed to the water and bade him go; but be only whined and licked her hand. Then Estelle kpelt down upon the deck and with her head resting upon her faithfal friend's shagey coat awaited her fate. Almost at the same moment as the last life-boat was drawn up on the beach by eager, willing bands, the great ship, with one heavy toss, went dowa into the mighty deep, and Mare Darcy learned too late the value of a true woman's love. I TOC OR his Take care « I cansee tl of ane Con tesy at Home, i written or spoken. ‘['bere is an Orien- tal iegend of a poor Arab, who on going through the desert, met with a spark]. ing spring. Accustomed to brackish water, a draught from this sweet well in the wilderness seemed, in his simple mind, a fit present to the Caliph, So he filled the leathern bottle, and, after a weary tramp, laid his gift at his sovereign's feet, The monarch called for a cup and drank freely, and then with a smile, thanked the Arab, and presented lnm with a magnificent reward. The courtiers pressed eagerly around for adraught of the wonderful water which was regarded as worth such a princely acknowledment To their surprise, the Caliph forbade them go touch a drop, Then, after the simple