ts a Th Suaky swallows will return again, éir love songs in thy baléeny to ging, AR once again will beat thy window pane With restless, fluttering wing. But these same swallows that restrained their flight, That lingered lovely in years before, To contemplate thy charms and my delight, These will return no more. Thy honeysuckle once again will bloom ; Its sprays will climb the lattice of thy bower, And with new beauty in the twilight gloom Its buds will burst to tlower, But blossoms fair of Summers that are past, Blossoms bedecked with trembling drops of dew, Which fell like tears of day, too sweet to last Tnéy will not bloom anew, Passionate words may the stern silence break, . And burning vows upon thy ear may fall; awake At love's persistent call, But that blind adoration, given in vain; These fond illusions, dear as they were fleet, No other will bestow on thee again —- Never again, my sweet, SORCERER'S A POSTAL COURTSuIY, Vane, as he turned from the window for the fiftieth time that morning. “Jane,” he added, addressing the house- maid, who was clearing away the break- Adderly’s house opposite?” “Well, yes, sir, if you please,” re- turned the hand-maiden. “I met their cook at the grocer’s the other day, and she said that her master’s name Black—Capting Choker absence with his wife and daughter, sm.” *Oh, indeed: did she happen to men- tion the young lady’s name?” “Eval! What a charming name!” and then he added aloud: **That will do, Jane, thank you.” Mr. Willoughby Vane was a bachelor, 25 years old, rich, indolent and tolera- bly good-looking. He lived with a widowed mother in a pleasant house in Albany. apd, having nothing else to do. had fallen desperately in love with his pretty vis-a-vis, [and anxiously sought an opportunity for an introduction. However, having discovered the name of his enchantress, he determined to address her anonymously by letter. Having decided upon taking this step, the next thing to be done was to put it into execution, and having shut futile attempts, he succeeded ming an epistie to the laay to his satis. faction, begging her, if she valued his peace of mind, to return an answer to *W. V., Postoffice, Albany.” That done, he went out for a walk, and drop- ped the letter in the nearest box. Regularly three times a day for a office to see whether an answer had ar- rived for him. Willoughby began to lose his appetite, Mrs. Vane, like a fond mother, fancied that her dear boy was unwell, and beg- ant, But her son laughed at the idea, knowing well that his complaint was beyond the doctor's skill to cure. receiving a reply, when, to his great written in a dainty female hand, and addressed to **W. V.” Almost unable «0 conceal his emotion he quitted the postoffice, broke open the seal, and Irank in the contents. They were evidently of a pleasant nature, for he read the letter over again and again, kissed the envelope, put it into his breast-pocket, and iome to see his inamorata looking out of the window of the opposite side as usual. For a moment his first impulse was to salute her respectfully; but immedi- ately afterward he bethought himself lady would perhaps feel insulted by the action. any idea that he was “W. V.”? So he went in-doors and amused himself for three hours in inditing a reply to her letter. which he posted the same after. noon, and in due course a second an- SWer arrived. And so matters went on, a constant for a fortnight, during which time Mr, Willoughby Vane spent his days in running to and from the postoflice, wri- ting letters and watching his fair neigh- bor from the window of the dining. room. “Confound it!” he would sometimes say to himself. *‘How very provoking the dear girl is! She never will look this way. Ido wish I could catch her eye, if only for a moment. What a horridly sour-looking old crab the mother is! Depend upon it, Willoughby, that poor child is anything but happy at home with those two old fogies. Indeed, her letters hint as much.” And having given vent to his feelings, he would put on his hat and walk to the postoffice, or shut himself in his room and compose another note to his “Dearest Eva.” At length, three weeks having flown rapidly away in this manner, he receiv- ed a letter one morning from the yonng lady, which ran as follows: Tow. VD Sir—As it is useless to continue a correspondence in this manner, I think it is now time for you to throw off your incognito, and reveal your true name and position to one to whom you are not totally indifferent. Believe me that nothing inspires love like mutual confidence. Prove to me that I have not been imprudent in answering your letters, by at once informing me who you are, Itis with no feeling of idle curiosity that I ask this, but situply for our mutual satisfaction. Yours, ete,, Eva. To which Willoughby replied by re. turn of post: Deirest EvA (If you will permit me to call you so): Have you not for weeks past observed a young man, with his hair brushed back, anxiously watching you from the window of the opposite house? And, although you have appa- rently never taken the slightest notice of him, I trust that his features are not altogether repulsive te you, I am that individual. j ’ “Charmed by the graceful thine eye, Day after day I watch andl dream and sigh; Watch thee, dream of thee, sigh for thee Fair Star of Albany~may I add, mine own?” to quote with some alterations the noble stanza of the poet Brown. And now I have a favor to ask yon. When- ever you see me at the window take no magic of should observe it. In a few days she | will be going out of town, and then we | can throw off all restraint. Till then. { adieu! Adieu, my adorable one, adieu! My eyes are ever on you. Your own, | Wirrovauney VANE. | To which epistle came the following | answer: | i | ly satisfactory. I may also add, your { ‘Bless her! what a delightful ' soul she 18!” ejaculated Willoughby, of clothes and had his hair cut. the next morning. *‘I wish you would do something to improve your mind, and not waste your time looking out of | the window all day as yon have lately done. Come and read the Assembly y to do.’ { clan, and for three mortal hours kept him at his delightful task; at the expiration of which time he succeeded in escaping to his own room, where he wrote the following note to Eva: DeAresT EvA—I am overjoyed at { tion. If, as you say, my features are | not altogether repulsive to you, may I | hope that you will consent to be mine ~mine only? Wn reply the next m LOUGHBY. Back came the ing. DeAr GHBY-— Your j has made very 1 very dull here—no society excep | and mother, I long for cougenia panionship, Thine, E1 WirLot wy me feel In this delightful manner th | flew on—halcyon days, too, they v | for Willoughby, and sweetened b: interchange of this and similar lover- like correspondence. On the following Monday morning Mrs.iVane left town on a visit to some friends in Saratoga, | leaving her son to keep house at home, { The same afternoon of Black's servants brought the foll note for Willoughby: WiLrie—Have you any objections to my telling my dear papa all? Matters have now gone so far that it will impossible for either of us to retract what we have written. Let us papa into our confidence. I } kind and generous nature well have no fear that he will oppose union. Pray send me a line by 3 OL LE one be KNow 18 ans out bearer, Eva. The answer was as follows: | sider best, My fate is in your hands. If your papa should refuse his consent, [——, But 1 will not thing so dreadful. Fear that I shall ever retract. Life without you would | be a desert, with no oasis to brighten it. Yours until death. “WirLrLovonny.” That evening, as Willoughby had finished dinner, he heard a loud | double knock at the street door, and on its being opened a strange voice inqui- i red in a loud tone: “Is Mr. Willoughby Vane aft home?" { His heart beat violently as Jane, en- tering the room, sad: | "A gentleam wishes to speak with you in the library, sir.” And she handed him a eard, inscribed “Captain Choker Black, 101st Regi- ment, N. G. 8. N. YX.” | “I will be with him in a | said Willoughby; aud he frst JUS moment,” swallowed a | for the interview. | he said, as he entered the library. | “Your servant, sir,” { captain, who, glass in eye, was busily | engaged In scrutinizing an engraving of { the Battle of Gettysburg, “*Your ser. | vant, sir. | dressing Mr, Willoughby Vane?" i Willoughby bowed, i “Then, sir, of course you know the { business that has brought me here?” {| Terribly nervous and scarcely kuow- { bowed again. speak out! My daughter has made me i i between us. Eva has told me alll” | the reots of his hair, | “You see I know all about it. You | have fallen desperately in love with the | poor girl; and although you have never | exchanged three words together, you | aro already engaged to be married. | Mighty expeditious, upon my word! | Ha! hal ha! Pray, excuse me for laugh- | Ing, but the idea is somewhat comicall | Ha! ha! hal” As the captain appeared to be ina very good humor, Willoughby's cour- age began to rise, ‘Don’t mention it, sir, You are her father, have a right to do what you lease, But I sincerely trust that you ave no objections to offer,’ "1? None! Believe me, I shall be de lighted to see my Eva comfortably set- tiled. But, hark ye, sir. Business is business, Iam a plain, blunt man, and fifteen years’ sojourn with one’s regi. ment on the plains doesn’t help to polish one. First of all, what are your prospects?’ Aud the captain drew a note-book out of his pocket and proceeded to ex- amine our hero as if he was in a court of justice. “You are an only son, I believe?” “i am,” “Good.” And dewn went the note in the pocket-book. “Your age?" “Twenty-eight next birthday.” i i { ry “Twenty-eight! Good, stitution heaithy?”’ “I believe 80. I have had the mea- sles, whooping-covgh and mumps,” “Disorders peculiar to {infaney. Good.” And the captain scribbled away again, “Are you engaged in any business or profession?’’ “None,” “Then how on earth do you live?” “On my private income, captain.’ “Then all I can say Js you're an un- commonly lucky fellow to be able to subsist on that. I only wish I could, What 1s your income?” **About four thousand a year.” ‘Is it in house property, shares in limited companies, or in Governments?’ If in public companies, I should be sor- y to give two years’ purchase for the ot.” “In the new four per cents.’ “Good, TI think I may say very good! What sort of temper are you?” “Well, that’s rather a difficult ques- tion to answer,” siid Willoughby, smi- Is your cone “Hang it sir, not at all!” returned “If any one asked me my temper, 1 should say, ‘Hasty, sir—con- proud of it, sir—prond of it!" ‘Say about the average,” answered Willoughby timidly, “Temper average, said the captain, “1 think these are are about all the questions I have to ask you. You know my daughter by sight?» “I have had the pleasure of seeing her frequently—from the window sir!" ‘*Aud you think you could be happy “Think, captain! I am certain of it.” “Very good Now, hark ye, Mr. Willoughby Vane. Marry her, treat her well and be happy. Neglect her, blight her young affections by harsh- and hang me, sir, If I with bullets! Gad, sir, of my word, and I'll do what A8 sure as my Choker don’t riddle vy I'm a man Bay Ot I name's Bl rid no fear on that score, cap- 0 me, and if a life of x hor ¢ HELL artiice down will perfectly 1 RIOOCK hope You we “One word more,” said Willoughby. “Am I to understand that m?!? TH 3 1 ve 4 YOu consent ¥ ny Wr OU Un “Lert: ' mor ness of my dear Br 1! eration in novels, ay be a fire-eater on Any rate he Knows how nd blood,’ SayY no m sre about i hat and come across the stre and I'll introduce you at once," ely knowing what he + ughby did as he sy street to Was get! 1 his door w “One moment, if you Willoughby, who was hair and arranging his cr **Are you ready now?" hero into the Then, waving his hand, he added, *“‘Allow me to introduce you to my wife and daughter.” Willo ighby looked exceedingly fo ile Un a couch by the fireside sat his enchant- ress, looking more bewitchingly radiant than ever, her vis-a-vis being a tall, thin, angular woman in black that he had frequently noticed from over th WAY. “What a contrast,” thought Wil. loughby, ‘‘between mother and daugh- teri’ “Annie, my dear, Mr. Vane is nervous, no doubt, the adage. let us leave captain, dinwing-re © Willoughby Y ou Know the young tongue then, I'll wager,” said the cap- tain, addressing the younger of the two indies, who immediately rose from her seat, “Stay sir, there is some mistake here,”’ said. Willoughby, *“‘This lady is”"—and he pointed to the gaunt fe- “My daughter, sir, said the captain. “My daughter by my first wife,” “And this" gjaculated our hero, turning to the young lady. “Is my SECOND WIFE, sir!” Mr. Willoughby Vane fled from his home that night. About a month later ceived a letter from him explaining the whole affair; and the postmark bore the words: “Montreal, Canada.’ REE Art of Early Rising. The proper time to rise is when sleep ends, Dozing should not be allowed, True sleep is the aggregate of sleeps, or is a state consisting of the sleeping or rest of all the several parts of the or- ganism. Sometimes one and at other whole, may be the least fatigued, and therefore the most dificult to arouse, The secret of good sleep is, the physio- logical conditions of rest being estab. lished, so to worry and weary the sever. al parts of the organism as to give them a proportionally equal need of rest at the same moment; and to wake early and feel ready to rise, a fair and equal start of the sleeper should be secured; and the wise self-manager should not allow a drowsy feeling of the conscious- ness or weary senses, or an exhausted muscular system, to beguile him into the folly of going to sleep again when he has been aroused, After a few days of self-discipline, the man who resolves not to doze, that Is, not to allow some sleepy part of Lis body to keep him in bed after his brain has once awakened, will find himself, without knowing why, an early riser, er en——— A Lottery for Life In the war of Mexican independence, a captain in the insurgent army is giv- ing an account of a meditated night at- tack upon a hacienda, situated in Cor- dillera, and occupied by a large force of Spanish soldiers, After a variety of details he continues;— Having arrived at the hacienda un- perceived, thanks to the obscurity of a under some large trees, at some dis- tance from the building, and I rode for- ward from my troops in order to re- connoitre the place, The hacienda, as far as I could see in parallelogram, strengthed by enormous buttresses of hewn stone. Along this chasm, the walls of the hacienda almost formed the continuation of another per- pendicular one chiselled by Nature her- self in the rocks, to the bottom of which the eye could not penetrate, for the mists which incessantly rolled up from below did not allow it to measure their awful depths, I had explored all sides of the building except this, when I know not what scruple of military honor incited me to continue my along the ravine which protected the rear of the hacienda, Between the walls and the preeipice there was a nar- Tow day the passage would not have been dangerous, but by night it was a peril. ous enterprise. The walls of the took an extensive sweep, the path crept around their entire basement. and to fol- low it to the end in the darkness, only two paces from the end of a perpendic- ular chasm, was no very easy task, even for as practised a horseman as myself, Nevertheless, I did not hesitate but boldiy urged my horse between the walls of the farmhouse and the abyss, I had got over half the distance with- out accident, when all of a sudden my borse neighed aloud This neigh made me shudder, I had reached a pass where the ground was just wide enough for the four legs of the horse, and it was impossible to retrace my steps. “Halloo 1” 1 exclaimed alous risk of betraying myself-—w 4 even less dangerous thi i a forse fron 1 Toad, | . 16 FAVILE ' # ow iL Wis “Impossible!” replied the hor a hollow voice. Between two horseman both upon this fearful been fath Bon, inevitably abyss, Dut a few se and we were already | nown borseman and myself, #68 were head to head, and their no . dilated with terror, gether with their flen of us halted in a dead sil sooth and he hacienda; on the other side, s from the wall, of Was it an enemy The lon that Perio 1 in } hi ae they p Us Da ace to Ave Dae in ry breathing. ve was Lhe 0 ‘*Are you for Mexico and the gents?’ 1 exclaimed, ir excitement, ready to sj horseman if negative, “Mexico Insurgent ths moment LX 134] had answer Lismy pass Colonel Garduno.,”’ “And I am the Caplain Castamos!” Our acquaintance was of long stand- ing, and but for our mutual agitation. we would h had no need to exchang Our names. mel” 1 ex- ciaimed, **1 am sorry you are not a Spaniard-—for you perceive that one of us must yield the pathway to the other.’ “I see it cilia d fuat Ange 1 cok 80 plainly," replied the colo- nel, I should already have blown out the brains of your horse but for the fear lest mine, in a moment of terror, should precipitate me with yourself to the botiom of the abyss, “What are we going manded of the colonel, “Draw lots which of the leap over the ravine,” “There are, nevertheless, some pre. cautions to take,’ said the colonel, ‘He who shall be condemned by lot shall re- tire backward. It will be but a feeble chance of escape for him, I admit; but, in short, it is a chance, and especially one in favor of the winner.’ How were we to proceed to this By means of the wet finger, like infants, or by head and tail, like the schoolboys? Both ways were impracticable, Our hands imprudent- to do?” G0 all shall two frightened horses, might cause them to give a fatal start. piece of coin, the night was too dark to The colonel bethought him of which I should have dreamed. “Listen to me, captain,” said the upward. my perplexities; ‘I have another way, breath. The first of us two whose We waited in deep and anxious silence until the voice of one of our horses should break forth. This silence lasted ~foran age! 1t was my horse who neighed the first, “You will allow me a minute to make my peace with Hea- ven?’ I said to the colonel, with fail. ing voice, “Will five minutes be suf. ficient?" “It will,” I replied, My education bad been in the coun try. My childhood, and part of my earliest youth, had almost been passed on horseback. If there was any one in the world eapable of executing this equestrian feat, it was myself. I rallied myself with an almost supernatural ef. fort, and succeeded in recovering my entire self-possession in the very face of death, As soon as my horse felt the bit compressing his mouth, I perceived that he trembled beneath me, I strengthened myself in my stirrups, to make the terrified animal understand that his master no longer trembled. I held him up with the bridle and the His head was already at a greater dis- tance from that of the horse of the col- onel, who encouraged me all he could with his voice, This done, I let the in spite of his terror, repose himself for a few moments—and then recommen- ced the same maneuvre, All on a sud- me. A horrible shudder ran through my whole frame, I closed my eyes as if about to roll to the bottom of the abyss, and I gave to my body a violent {se on the side next to to hacien- da, the surface of which offered not a single projection, not a siugle tuft of weeds to check my descent, This sud- den movement, joined to the desperate of my life. He had sprung up again on ready to fall feel them tremble, I had succeeded in reaching, between the brink of the precipice and the wall the building, a spot some few inches A few more would have ena- me to turn him round, but to at- tempt it here would have been fatal, and I dare not venture, I sought to resume my backward progress step by itep. Twice the threw himself upon his hind legs and fell down the same spot. It was in vain to urge him anew, either with voice, (bridle or spur, the animal obstinately refused to take a single step in the rear. Never- theless, I did not feel my courage yet exhausted, for I had no desire to die. One last and solitary chance for suddenly appeared to me like a flash of and I employ it. Through the fastening of my boot, and in reach of my hand, was passed a sha fe, which I drew fron left hand 1 ‘a TY: 2 oof nv } . : IHOANe OF HOTS if £3 broader, 1 3.1 Digg horse upon aa fatv A404 Tierhi é ler light, resolved to 4} v Lil ny } y Degan ¢ 1 4 , ail the i i out single for myself, with my knees al igh as my chin, I found my- rscback, 1 was saved i holl its prey had the sad fie, the wall Youn . a sel Hay horse, alu I quitted if down between bods ’ ody of ed with my feet the wrels against the hed animal, which I then arose, and bounds the distance place where I was under the irresisti- which I had in SWOOn und, When 1 reops ned my mel was by my side, roile down into the abyss. 1 cleared at a few which separated the plain; an $ 1" sigs | pressed, I sunk into a upon ue gr - Explosive of the Future. i x30 The explosive of the future is doubtedly blasting gelatine, the latest inventide: of Mr. Noble, Already on the Continent the manufacture of this new agent has assumed fant mensions, though here, owing to stringency of the climatic test by rnment scarcely establi ations of un- di- the imposed as yeti the lat- i Gothard Tun- nel were carried out with pure blasting gelatine; and in Austria, the richest of all the European countries in mines ex- cept Great Britain, the factories where dynamite was formerly made are now given over to its manufacture. It is simply a base actif, containing 93 per dent, of nitroglycerine, with a base of 7 per cent, of collodin wool, that 1s it- geif an explosive, in place of the inert kicselguwhr, As a blasting agent it is more homogeneous than dynamite, and, on account of its elasticity, is less sensi. ble outward impressions, while in handling or cutting the cartridges there is no loss of the material, as sometimes occurs with dynamite, Its further ad- vantages are that the gases after explo. sion are lighter and thinner, and leave no dust, develop'ng at the same time a more considerable power, Taking the power of dynamite at 1,000, and nitro- glycerine at 1,411, blasting gelatine is represented by the figures 1,555. in ad- impor vy $ 1 4 ¥ 4 ROVY ius posivion 1% Many of the St shed, fer oper # 0 unlike dynamite, of retaining its nitro- glycerine when brought in contact with water. Sir Frederick Abel has kept it dergoing the slightest chemical change. complicated and delicate is the process necessary for the production of this naw explosive, it is never likely to be made AI M0 ABI White Women, Ittaccihuaty, which, next to Popocata- universally called the “white woman" in Its shape, miles away, is suggestive of a dead giantess robed for bunal, the white shroud showing the contour of breast and limbs, The face 1s perfect in outline, and long hair seems to stream in silvery locks from the snowy forchead down over thu sides of the bier. Her feet are turned toward P tl, and between them lies a line of low hills, brown and treeless. sa—— i ———— Do you wish a portrait that is not flattered? Ask a woman to make one of her rival. The usually acoepted explanation of the so-called 8 in that it forms the burrows in w it is found growing, its protoplasm eating into the surroun parts. FOOD FOR THOUGHT. No alm at the happiness of others lifts us above ourselves, How long does a widowe: his wife? For a second. Creditors and poor relations call at the right moment, Offences are easily pardoned when there is love at the bottom. The hours are a part of eternit their relation to it never ends, Pity is the virtue of none but tyrants use it cruelly. Falsehood always endeavdrs to ¢ the mien and attitude of truth. A mere sanguine temperament passes for genius and patriotism Moderation commonly fi firmness i3 commonly successful Did universal charity prevai would be a heaven, and hell He who betrays the confi ‘8 not worthy the confidence of a Freedomn from nly come by reaching after 01, : The world he fact that mourn for w 1/4 SONG tha . LAER JAW iN OW neces forgives One Can is the torch ILE gu guide, inguiar 1 the mosquito visits and histo conduct, and $ ur happiness The attainment of sires 18 often the sour BOTTOWE, ur years, our debls mies are always more we imagine, A 141 aly a 2% Ji: Ed reumio like can thie Aid to mark, } WO Peceives a good r forget it: but he uld never remember: He that would always put the business and conversation. y vivid ¢ A fk Willi Dos Of 5 EVes |) tab v 4 LB Cannol. as blind as he He that gives good advic one hand; he that gives and example builds with Those who think il 18 neces y to dress i ir grandly, make a greal mista New Aq Ie thi A ] d explanations of old ones ble can bear to offer or re It is £3 4 Oi GUlnan natute } that one of those strange io good through tha Be not penny-wise; ricl flv away of themselves; Public discussious are an ints ¢ vik ty ow 5 Tg: ‘hn stamping where Lh« is crushed and the pure g mill, quartz free, Virtue will catch as wel contract; the public sto est, manly principle will daily 3 $ ALE, and To find one who has life without sorrow fear. Money in your purse will wisdom in your head will necessity YOu. Mark this well, ye proud men tion! You are, after all, nothi unconscious instruments of the thought. No state can be more destitute than that of a person who, when the delights of sense forsake him has no pleasures of the mind, By holding a very little misery quite close to our eyes we entirely lose sight of a greatdeal of comfort beyond which might be taken. teligion can no more be learnt out of books than seamanship, or soldier- ship, or engineering, or any practical trade what soever, We ought not to look back unless it is to derive useful lessons from past errors and for the purpose of profiting by dear experience, There is no policy like politeness; and a good manner is the Lest thing in the world, either to get a good name or supply the want of it, Love isthe most terrible and also the most generous of the passions; it is the only one that includes in its dreams the happiness of someone else. There is no courage in surrendering what is true; no real courage in defying public sentiment when that sentiment springs from the truth, Deal very gently with those who are on the down nll of life. Yourown time is coming to be where they are now. You, too, are “stepping west ward," In all things throughout the world the men who look for the crooked will see the crooked, and the men who look for the straight will see the straight. It is much easier to find a score of men wise enough to discover the truth than to find one intrepid enough, in he face of opposition, to stand up fo Lt. The action of man is a representative type of his thought and will; and & work of charity is a representative typ of the charity within the sow! and mind.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers