MARY.
Acushla! do not deem me false!
Nor dream that I forget
Thy fair young thy native grace,
The morn when first we met.
My priceless pearl! my glorious girl!
Thou’'rt true as truth to me,
And where thou art there throbs my
With love alone for thee.
face,
heart
I know not where thy lot is cast;
3ut this I know full well:
To me alway, where'er 1 stray,
Thy name's a wondrous spell,
My faney’s fairy! Mary!
While ebbs and flows the sea,
And sunshine streams and moonlight beams,
I'll love no
wondrous
love but thee.
Heed not what venomed tongues may
Dread worl
But dry thy tears, to fright thy fears
And trast, my lov
My beauty bright! my heart t's del light}
When startled eyos shall 500
‘mid winter's snow,
SLY,
not the I's decree;
¢, in m
J une roses blow
Then 1'11 be false to thee.
Mary!
arry dome,
Fron ountain eyrie, mystic
At night, 'n 3 St
To lowland glen, mid }
By day, I've s«¢
If hope has fled
‘ome
In ero light,
And bear m
In
aunts of men,
ywaght thy home,
if thou art dead
with angel Kiss,
love
s OVE,
wn of and robes of white,
Vv soul : !
I STE
THE BROTHER'S SECRET.
1
At =a little village called Seaside,
situated on the coast of one of the New
England States, there lived a Mr
Stephen Carlyle and his daughter, in
a pretty little cottage he had built,
Seaside was a small place.
two or three streets; a small hotel and
a few houses scattered here and thers,
But there was a sandy beach,
where the water came
one
tance from the
chance for bat!
attraction at
long
village afforded a fine
ing. This was
Seaside, and what had
caused Mr. Carlyle and his daughter
to fix their residence there,
Mr. Carlyle was a retired
of some fortune, he
years of age, and
had been troubled
which his doctor
SIXUY
he
was probably
for a few
with a
years
disease for
recommended him to
where he could have
03
lace
the
settle at some p
the benefit of bracing breeze
and bathing.
His illness, however, Lad
fered with his 1 nature, {
one of the best.natured men
lived.
His daughter,
ing on womal was qu
tall and a good figure. Perh
was not what would be called pretty,
but still she was possessed of a large
and loving heart, and, above all, those
winning ways that have,
which superior mere pretty
face,
Everybody
ig
the ¢ b
goo was
evel
Agnes,
hood: ~he
: ey at ”
was just verg-
uite
aps she
Some women
are to a
that t
always
came in contac
. ;
loved her: even
* § -
beasts, for
went
walk you
’ #1
ws of {
S118
when
out take
ould see the
village come running t
i
on their
to her morning
Ww vagabond d«
oO her
a gentle pat
word.
Ag nes was Mi
v his second wife, he
ead
Carlyle’s only
had
by his first wife
wif WY
a vear old, had been
while ti were
constant search had been
two years for the
clue to his whereabout
found.
The loss of her darling boy
broken the mother’s heart, and
sank into an early grave, twen-
ty-five years had passed then,
and the father had almost ceased to
think of his when,
mornings before the opening of this
tale, the postman had brought him a
short note which had
emations and forgotten feelings within
the old gentleman’s breast,
The short note ran as follows:
“My Dean Farner: The son whom
you lost in Italy twenty-five years ago
is alive and well,
you in a few days,
i
sani el ty 4
residing in Italy.
kept
hild, but
ey
3 far
up AU3
1080 C
had
Some
since
lost son
gt son,
Your son,
MCHARD.,”?
wnd over again, and then sat thought-
fully for along time, until Agnes came
into the room.
She had been tola by
many times of her lost
and when Mr,
note, and she had read it, she under-
stood it perfecely., Tears of joy gushed
in her eyes as she said:
“Oh, papa, I am so giadl How I
have wished for a brother and sister,
and now to think I have really got a
dear brother!” and she was in a perfect
ecstacy.
“Does he look like you, papa?”
“My dear child, I cannot tell, for be
her father
half brother,
him, and all babies look alike.”
The old man was weeping, weeping
tears of joy.
How often had he wished that he
had a son to bestow his fortune upon,
and perhaps some day make a great
man of. Although he loved
with all his whole heart, he wished she
was a man instead of a woman.
And his boy was coming to him;
this was the thought that filled his
mind most of the time. Then ne be.
gan to fancy bow he would look.
Would he look like his dead ‘mother?
He believed he had looked something
like her when a child, Yes, he had a
faint remembrance of two fat little
cheeks and a pair of bright blue eyes
looking up into his as the little one
lay in his cradle,
No! He remembered one thing
The child had a curious mole in
shape of a leaf on his right arm.
more,
thinking of his son, the old man would
drop off into a quiet afternoon nap,
and his fancles take a flight te dream-
land,
been in all her life, getting
cottage ready to welcome her brother.
She fitted up the prettiest room in the
whole house for and called her
papa to look at it.
The few days
him,
mentioned in Rich-
ard’s note soon passed by, and one
morning a tall, fine
man of genteel appearence walked up
that led to the
cottage front door, and rang the bell.
Agnes had been impatient for him
but now that he had
was so bashful her father
her to accompany
where the
looking young
come
could
him
young gentle-
“Mr. I believe?’
as Mr, Car-
Ivle and Agnes entered the parlor.
“My name is Carlyle; but whether
not, young man, you are my lost
I have no proof,” Mr.
advancing aud taking the
Carlyle—my father,
or
sen, sald Car-
young
“Was
anything
said he,
there particular
‘‘any partic-
ular mark?"
“Yes.” said Mr. Carlyle, quickly.
The young man rolled up his sleeve,
just above the
there was a large dark mole
elbow, in
“Was it
“Yes!
like that?” he asked
yes! it was!" cried Mr, (
throwing his arms around
young man’s neck,
“Richard! Rich
Ar
the
ard!
My darling
How |
Y
tie cottage.
I_apoy evervl pd ly was at the |
Days never became dul
and lonesome when Richard was there;
the old gentleman was in the
mood ; th
serving
Agnes
good
» servants were nevi
thelr voun
loved her
o her. And
beach,
eves, DOW Pr
the
% %
md she
ant
was so handsome
sl
ie thot
Thev
morning until night, either takin
walks on the beac! watching
and Agn
atten!
ight.
igi
were always
bir stance
sig ance,
tening th
word Richard utt
tle excursions, or sit
ared, Or
where Agnes wo
mpanied
parlor,
piano,
some fashio
All
very
Ac
able air,
this served to make }
happy.
s: he worshim
10
Atl
resemblance in
f his dead
Thus days and
$4
weeks passed at
ing Agnes passion-
by day
love her brother more. Aud th
ripening into a dif
herly or sisterly |
ately and she ‘lay learning to
18 love
ferent
love than brot love.
One morning they went
stroll along the beach.
leaning on Richard's
ting merrily as they
he seemed
out
Agnes
arm, and chat-
went along, but
less talkative than usual,
was silent and moody,
ing for some distance they came
where the bank was covered with
turf, sat down; R
was
to
and ichard
After
Ag-
ask in a low, sweet
voice, what made her brother so thought.
ful.
“Aggy,” sald he, not raising his
“shall I tell you?”
“Why not, dear Richard; am I not
9
if he has any?
“Well, Aggy,
raised his head,
said she, laughing.
I bave a secret: and
and a faint,
at her.
“* And if I should tell it to you, I am
afraid you would never love me again,
Yes, and perhaps you would
mel’
“How can you talk so foolish, Rich.
ard? Do you suppose 1 could ever
gcorn you?”
Then silence reigned for some time,
“1 will tell you my secret,
me-—if you will promise to Jove me the
after you know it, as you do
Agnes was looking out on the ocean,
‘Do you think I could ever help lov-
“Then you promise?’ said he ea-
gerly.
“Certainly.”’
“I know a man Aggy, that one night,
about a year ago, while In the opera,
saw in one of the boxes, anold gentle.
man, and a very pretty girl, whom he
learned afterward was the old gentle
man’s daughter,
Perhaps most people laugh at the
ides of falling in love at first sight,
but nevertheless this young map fell
passionately in love with the pretiy
!
taken a |
|
“He watched, and admired, and lov- |
And when the opera
was over he went home with a feeling |
as if he had all the world behind him,
Night after night he was at
the oD= |
but she never
Two months this young man
discovered the old gentleman's and his
and residence. An-
incident put him In pos-
of mmformation concerning a
the gentleman had stolen
from him twenty-five years ago—"
“How
nes:
he adored, came again,
Heo
8 1A
other Jucky
session
old
Ag-
same old
Richard!” said
are relating the
story you told papa about
and how you discovered
papa. Now,
any more,
foolish,
you
yourself,
was your
flatter
me again of the
and
told you
think
he
me
old
how
who
please, don’t
nor tell
Italian with the
she
hand-organ,
AW arm and
Let
past, but of the future.’
“But }
springing
both of
gy, de
not
yout
you were. us not
he ered,
grasping
‘ ‘Age
“im
must tell youl”
feet, and
Agnes’ little hands in his,
ar Aggy, 1 must
brother, no:
but for God’s sake forgive me, Aggy,
I shall go mad!’
to
you, I
relation-
tell
your
for deceiving
you, or
**Not my brother!’ exclaimed Agnes
with amazement,
“No. your brother.
ceived you and your Kind
in a cruel
I have de-
fath-
how
not
loving
Aggy,
you So
manner; but,
loved
tears came
beseachingly
er
' and the ia his
stood
wtely!
sion:
eyes as oh
at her .
“Explain, sir, what yq«
Agnes, drawing he
looking
yu mean!’ said
sr hands from his and
retreating a step.
“Remember Aggy, youl
“Well,” said she In a stern vole
promisel
I'he story about the Italian woman
ny
who had an
mine,
‘It was a little boy
twenty years ago,’ she said
*Was the child yours
‘No, she
Win
x i
C Uri
said
we was ib? sked for mer
ity.
‘I gave her some
said
‘A Mr. Stepher
3 py é
BIL
Agn
trembling, |
font,
she glad he was not her
‘My poor,
*‘how will he bear this ne
“Dear, dear Aggy, 1
SON -—8on-in-law He
and will it not make him
to see us one for life—forever?”
“Richard,” she quietly,
father."
poor father,
ws?"
may I not still be
loves
happy
us
sald her
“Richard
do you think you have gained my love
a
“Then you do really love me?” cried
he, seizing her hand and evading the
question,
“Yes: God forgive me if I do wrong
here waa no outburst of feeling in
it was said in
a quiet, gentle manner; nothing de.
noting the tumult that was passing
within, except a few tears that
pale cheek, and a nervous
stole
The passionate words of love and joy
that Richard (if we may be allowed to
all him by this nae) uttered, I will
not try to describe, as it would be far
hearts from thenceforth were joined
When this news was told old Mr.
Carlyle, by an intimate friend, he did
not rave and curse Richard for deceiv-
Nol it was not his nature; |
and forgiving, and although he shut
his gentle |
nature soon overcame him and said: i
“I Jove him just the same, and if
they love each other, let them be made
man and wife, and I will still regard
him as my son."
si AAAI ————
If we had but more faith, we should
have less care,
Good, the more communicated, more
abu ndant grows,
Ax Ohio oarsmian has been arrested
for making counterfeit money, He
should remember it is one thing to
forge ahead on a boat, but quite an.
other to forge a head on a $10 bill,
Fiowers,
A popular florist
body lias something
says almost
in the way
We rent a
plants to
lawns with
summer and bring them
for the winter, For very
nice plants hke the palm, we get from
$0 to $8
every.
of a
good many of
our choico
a season, The palm 18 probabls
fine
We
most
sell
common varieties of
The
ants
them.
garden pl
many of
that
are geraninms,
In the way
have a
and
ice,
of lawns,
Snow-ball
common and
of which
as two dozen different
shrubs for
very large range.
syringa very
Then there are spi
have
kinds
we
are
Teas,
we as many
A new shrub was
here a few years ago whichis
introduced
proving
great
¥
ei arandifiors.
the
ciimate, It is hardy no Min-
inter can kil it. It
withal,
‘Did you
humble
favorite—hydrang
tis very
and the
well sulted to purpose
y wall 4
is anexcelient
nesota w
bloomer
know that flowers prefer a
fence? It
certainly a fact that as a rule po
ple better plants th t
The atmosphere
not i
to a palatial resi
have an " rich,
f
Of does
It
moist alr.
a big house
gree with floral constitutions,
i8 100
They
the
dry. Flowers want
enjoy the steam that
singing
tea-pot, A
conservatory.
rises from
kitchen isa
the
care o
Then
people always take more
flowers—and they need
hildren.
good poorer
their
Cale as much
as ( A rich lady spends a good
deal of money, buys a lot of nice plants,
stacks somewhere where they
pretty, waters them semi-occasion-
ally, and expects them to grow
weeds and blossom all the time,
tan
atria Vv
them up
1 WOK
like
They
come up to her expectations, of
course: the consequence is she g
(+erMans
flower
Neo
and
florists
surpass, any German
a8
always make their
florists; but 1 the
race, The Germans
plants do well by constant and intel-
ligent care., They do not spend much
I sell comparatively
mean pe ople
of everything
They keep them longer and
make them bloom better The Scan-
dinavians don't care much for flowers,
i
A Live Town.
been a
But it
Why,
dozen
The
man that didn’t carry a pistol was of
I recollect
YWell Dodge cif ity may have
I reckon it was,
never came up to Newtlon.
Newton had as many as half a
two men to each bed, and a pistol un
der a vest or a pair of pants placed be
That was
cattle drove to Newton.
when the
My father bought
a dance-house building and moved it
it and admire the round
the window panes, There
whole light in the house.
Newton ceased to be a
100k
holes
at
in
Then when
business came along to Dodge City. It
missed Hutchinson for the reason that
it was a temperance town. Bul there's
Why,
tender is City Clerk, the two Marshals
are ex-dance-house men, and the School
Directors are some of them in the same
ix.”
What is death? To go out like a
light, and in a sweet trance to le
ourselves and all the passing phenome-
na of the day as we forget the phantom
of a flesting dream; to form as in a
dream new connections with God’s
world: to enter into a more exalted
sphere, and to make a new step up
man’s graduated ascent of creation.
Beasous in Mexico,
May and June are the hottest months
in the City of Mexico, If is too
thickly clad at midday it is usually pos-
sible to take the shady side of the
Since nobody is ever in a hurry.
£6
slreetl,
of
course, quite unnecessary to walk in the
And when the new comer gets
thoroughly Mexicanized he will stay in-
at midday.
tines useful as walking sticks or
they
Just
and we
vis,
sui.
Umbrellas are some-
pilras-
doors
8018; save In are neve
the
have had
So has the
rainy sea
the
summer
shed
season
wanted to now
rain,
rainy i858 on
tremendous showers,
n bel The
ought to be called
It never rain
Fastern style, but
there is no contin
July August
escends
gome
country dow Ow,
in fact,
CABO 118
SILOW »
tead, sUriz~
after the
and yet
In June,
3
rain oC
12210,
it pours, uous
downfall. and
almost every
showers BLT
no less regularity
and every day has
oul
by
vid
pleasant
During eight months
in, day
De
It seein:
opinion that Mexico
wl winter resort, but isa
must be wise to keep out
This is t mistake,
Banta Fe re-
towns of the Mexican plateau
They southern,
levated,
L ITER
Denver and
Oris, the
are
uminet
to be. are
eleva-
In the
nature
season it be-
But
North-
wint
the summers of
Mex -
y are e and high
latitude,
ummer, again, the face of
beautiful, while in the
thered and
y untervails low
is
dry
uninvitin
of course the contrast be
ern American and Mex]
¢ ’ ¥ 2821s | +
greater than be
+
L
comes wi
tween
Cal
ween
and on th
intry
he two regions,
is a better co
ape cold than heat,
and wome:
Nhe Arizonian Atmosphere,
regarded
ivilized sort of town, a man
wos of nature wh make him
dull reality of the
ontempiat if the fu-
is suggested by the scenery
know the Southwest
18 calculated to make
But it has a great deal
absent mm more civilized re-
Remote, unfriended, melan-
slow, harsh and wild though the
there are vistas of exceed-
ing beauty, composed of peaks and ser-
rated ranges, wild uncultivated fields,
crumbling ruins telling of departed ra-
ces, brilliant flowers wasting in very
truth their fragrance in the desert,
that one is very soon disposed to forget
the things that are not present and to
enjoy those that are, Itis a land for
poets to see and sing of, for it is filled
with interesting associations, and as
for the colorings, one must see the
mountains bathed in their brilliant
hues, the vast plains, white and wide,
but dotted with bright flowers, and the
sky, cloudless, soft and glorious, before
he can form even the faintest idea of
what the land is like,
————— ahs
has glim
forget fo
present
ture as it
about him. 1
lacks much that
fife enj
which is
gions,
choly,
scenery be,
y
:
r 4 time Lhe
in the ¢ On
»
wwable
pon’t Borrow Trouble,
A large part of life's burdens are
self-imposed and wholly needless,
Fears of calamities which never happen,
a doleful habit of looking at the worst,
a suspicious disposition, a jealous turn
of mind-these are the tyrants that
load us with burdens heavy to bear but
needless to carry. If we should hon-
estly examine the various burdens of
our lives, we should be surprised to find
how many of them are of this charac.
ter. Not only may we drop them if we
will, but justice to others demands that
we should. A man or woman habit
ually unhappy is essentially selfish, and
is always a thorn in the community, —
There are enough crosses and trials of
life which must be borne without man-
ufacturing artificial and needless ones;
and the more thoroughly we rid our.
selves of the latter, the more energy
and spirit we can bring to bear upon
the former.
FOOD FOR THOUGHT,
One's
and a sweet
To keep
pleasure,
No man envies the
who has enough ol hi
Have the courage
clothes until
opinion is
Orie,
you car
Have the courage
and propriety to fash
Have the courage {o
ker, at the risk of
Han,
We Stall
wien Lher
bone .
bel:
all be
is no longe
If we cannot live
live 80 as 10 at
hat is defeat?
. nothing but t
this i better,
A rule
for lis ng
LOT Ving Sou 4
‘
i
ally has them,
Ke ep cared
person’s way, and
out of his ways,
Have the courage
frien
ft 5 ¥ wv y
Lainmnent ior your
INEANS —~ beyond,
Have the courage to de
need,
eyes may covet it,
uch you do not
your ej
Happiness depends not
means and opportunities as on
pacity of using them,
Our happiness Qépenils i
art of {
pleasing th
uniform disposition to please,
f
If
of or bi 4
right,
bit
iLL
you want to do rig
There is no such ti
widid
doing apart from well
~Deing
ry G8
=e
t least as p
Have the courage to
spect Tor he in what
ADPeArs; and your contemp
est duplicity by wh
Where are there two things so
aie and yet so nearly related, so unlike
id yet often so hard to be distinguish-
ed from each other, humility
pride?
Conversation
mesty,
Oise ver
a svcd
as anc
should be pleasant,
without scurrility, witty without affec-
tation, free without indecency, learned
without conceitedness novel without
falsehood.
True glory ing what
Jeneryes a place in history, writing
hat deserves read, and in so
living as to make the world happier and
better for our living 1n it.
Expect not praise without
you are are dead.
the illustrious dead
admixture of envy;
the dead; and pity
i vinegar, assimi
Educate all the tacullies and propen
sities of children; but, above all, see
hat the conscience, the balance. wheel
of the moral system, is trained unto
perfect accord with the principles of
positive truth and absolute justice,
If Satan ever laughs it must be at
hypocrites. They are the greatest dupes
he has, They serve him better than
any others, but receive no wages. Nay,
what is still more extraordinary, they
submit to greater mortifications than
the sincerest Christians,
We are ruined not by what we really
want but by what we think we do;
therefore never go abroad in search of
your wants; if they are real wauls,
they will come home in search of you;
for she who buys what she does not
want will soon want what she cannot
buy.
Never be ashamed to confess your
ignorance, for the wisest man on earth
is ignorant of many things, insomuch
that what he knows is mere nothing in
comparison with what be does not
know There cannot be a greater folly
in the world than to suppose we know
everything.
The most glorious exploits do not
always furnish with the clearest dis.
coveries of virtue or vice in wen. Some-
times a matter of less moment, an ex-
pression or a jest, informs us better of
their characters and inclinations than
the most famous si the greatest
loodiest battles
consists
NSIS
ie 1
idk GO
v
i
s
y be
envy until
Honors bestowed on
have in them no
for the living pity
and envy, like
late not.
$1
ad
armaments, or the
whatsoever,