THE OLD HOME, It sleeps beneath the sunny hill As in a tranquil dreamt ; The giant elms are spreading still Above the meadow stream. Wild birds that join in music sweet And quiet sheep and cows Find grateful shelter from the heat Beneath those leafy boughs. All day among the scented grass The crickets leap and sing, And green and golden shadows pass Like swailows on the wing. How calmly in the sheltered nook The summer hours may go, Yet bright and joyous as the brook That sings with deep'ning flow. O world, with all thy cities’ pride, Thy plains and valleys green, Thou hast not in thy bound'ries wide, So sweet, so fair a scane. TTI, A BRAVE WOMAN, At Mr. Lonsdale’s anstocratic man- sion in Philadelphia the earliest letters fee. so that Mrs. Lonsdale was lang- uidly eating orange marmalade when the letter with the black edge which had just come from Moon Mountain. “eft a widow!” echoed Mrs. Lons- dale. ‘‘And with six daughters. What a very unpleasant circumstance!” “She was my favorite cousin,” Mr. Lonsdale. *‘As bright a girl as I ever saw. I suppose, Naomi”—with a little hesitation—*‘we couldn’t her in here?” “Take her in here?’ repeated Mrs. Lonsdale. “Why, where could we put a widow and six young women? We actually haven't room to accommodate ourselves?” rv.” said Lonsdale. the bluest eyes I ever saw. Six daughters, and we never had one. Perhaps, Naomi,” with the old hesita- adopt one?” his wife, ed child into my house it will not be the country article.” - * ® - » w At the solitary little farm on Moon Mountain, however, the same topic ford. was darning the carpet with a piece Jf woolen yarn of the same color and Lizzy was trimming seven plain straw hats with bands of crape, as inexpen- sively as possible. Susy was picking over a shining tin pan of dandelion greens for dinner. ast and rosiest of all, was feeding a lit- tle flock of downy chickens, and Sarah, the eldest, was absent at a neighbor’s, of half a dozen boys, “Sarah was always so handy with the needle,” said Mrs, Drix, with pardona- ble pride. up from her work with a troubled countenance, “*what are we to do?” “Mother,” said Lizzy ‘our Lons- dale cousins in Philadelphia are rich. Couldn't we go to them?” “Certainly not,” said Mrs, Drix. “I wrote to them, telling them of our af- fliction, and they sent back a letter full of common-places, without even offer- ing to help us.” ‘But they are poor.” “Yes, rich, and we are and they live in splendid Susy. “Very likely,” said Mrs. Drix “But in this family and God spares our beggar!" family, *'I really think—"’ “1 ‘ve settled it all in my own mind,” said Mrs. Drix, stitching away until her needle looked like a gleam of steel lightning. “The house is large, al- though it isn’t built after the latest fashion. The air Is wholesome and there is the Black Spring, where people come to get the water for ten miles around, I mean to keep boarders!” “Hurrah for the little mother!” cried Essie, clasping her plump hands, *‘And I may help you make custards and do up preserves, mayn’t I, mam- ma?’ Susy and Esther shall help me,” declared Mrs, Dnx, “Sarah can al- ways earn her living by tailoring work. Helen shall go into the glove factory; 1’'m told they need new hands there, Lizzie can help Mrs, Dart, the milli ner, and Rosie is to be nursery govern. ess at Mrs. Millingham’s, And if be- tween us we can’t earn a livelihood it will be very strange. Susy and Essie were delighted. Rosie naturally regarded her position as a decided promotion. Helen, however, dropped a tear into the pan ef hot . water which she had just poured out. “The glove factory, mother?’ she repeated. “But it will be such a strange, lonesome place. I don’t think I shall like it.” We must all of us try to like our duty, child,” said the brisk little wid. ow. “I’m an American woman, and they canuoct discourage me. This is a country for the woman’s rights.”’ “Mary 18 going to open a boarding- wife. “She has requested me to insert an advertisemeut in the dailies for her.” “Very laudable of her, I am sure,” said Mrs, Lonsdale with a yawn, “Suppose you were to go there for a few weeks before the Saratoga season painting and repairs are going on.” biously. her husband. cheap?” “] should imagine so.” So Mrs. Lonsdale wrote a patroniz- speaking the best room. | there was only one little square room | left. had gone forth in all directions, and a cle praising the delicious pine-scented air and well populated trout brooks of | the mountasin—and the consequence was that the farm house was full, “But this room is too small,” said | Mrs, Lonsdale, fretfully. “It's all I have left,” said Mrs, Drix, “and I could have let it half a served for you, cousin Naomi." “You'll take me at a reduction from | the usual prices, I suppose?” said Mrs, | Lonsdale, “I shall charge you just what I charge everybody else, neither more | nor less,” answered Mrs, Drix. “Bat I'm a relative,” pleaded Mrs, Lonsdale, “What good does that do me?” said the widow, fixing her blue eyes full on {| Mrs, Lonsdale. “My terms for 8 room | of this rize are $15 a week.” “But that is too much,” whined Mrs, | Lonsdale, “How much did you expect to pay?"’ asked Mrs. Drix with a curious sparkle in her eyes, *In this wilderness here,” said Mrs, Lonsdale, “810 would be" “If those are your ideas we never shall come to terms,” said Mrs, Drix, “But if you are really cramped for money—"’ “My dear Mrs. Drix, you have no money" “I will take you for twelve dollars.’ Mrs. Drix completed her sentence as if | the other had not spoken. And the bargain was completed. | Mrs. Lonsdale had not been in the | house a week before she took her hus. band’s cousin severely to task. ““T'hat horrid old man in the faded | olive-green suit has the best room in the house,” said she, “The very best.” “Yes,” sald Mrs, Drix, “he is my mother’s uncle. He was always very good to my poor husband.” “But I'm told he price?” “Yes,” confessed the widow. **He is very okl, and can't go up and down * only half pays stairs, so of course he must have the first floor room.’ “‘But he hasn't any property?” “He owns Carragee farm, across the mountains,’ said Mrs, Drix, “but no- body will rent it of him because the land is so rocky, and the farm house was burned down last fall when there were 50 many fires mm the woods, De- yond that he has nething.” Mrs, Lonsdale frowned, “Nobody has any right to Jive to be seventy years old without having laid up some little provision for the future,”’ she said. “I was thinking,” said Mrs, Drix, “that perhaps Cousin Mortimer Lous- dale would contribute alittle something | to his support, as we are equally rela- i ted.” “You may be very sure that he will not,” said Mrs, Lonsdale, with empha- sis, “Very well,” said Mrs, Drix calmly. | “He shall never want while I can help him.” The very next week, however, old fr. Darrow was found dead in armchair. And by will he had left everything he possessed to his grand- niece, Mary Drix, i w said Mrs, Lonsdale. “Of course you'll lutely be money out of pocket.’’ “It was all he had to give?’ said | Mrs. Drix, Meanwhile the family was prosper- thrifty young farmer of the neighbor- | bood. Helen was earning a good live | ing. Lazzy was contemplating the setting account—and Rosie was in high favor at Millingham Place, Even Mrs. Lonsdale admitted that her French cook could not excel the creams, delicate cakes and delicious puddings which these young damsels compounded, “I'm almost sorry our rooms are en- gaged at Saratoga,” said the city lady. “J am getting rather to like Moon Mountain, And your table is decided- ly good. Mary. And as for the girls, I have grown to like them very much.” Mr. Lonsdale himself entered as she spoke, “Well,” said the lady airily ‘what, is the news, Mortimer? “Bad news,” sald Mortimer, in a | hoarse accent, “We are ruined! The business has gone to wreck—the cash- { fer has gone to Belgium-—and we hav- | en’t a cent to éall our own!” | Whereupon, naturally enough. Mrs. | Lonsdale went into hysterics, scream- | ing, “Oh, | ruined, ruined! Mortimer—I | starve,” When Mrs. Drix came in, Naomi was widely loading her husband with | reproaches and struggling with him. Mortimer Lonsdale stood with some thing glittering in his hand. Mrs, | Drix went up to him and took it away with gentle authority. | “Give me that pistol, Mortimer,” | said she, “Get up, Naomi, and leave off crying and sobbing. If ever you needed to be a woman, you need it | now.” ““We are ruined——we are ruined!” “1 can never redeem myself,”’ said Mortimer hukeily. ‘You had have let me shoot myself, Mary" “Pghaw!” said Mrs Drix, curtly. “Suicide is the last resort of the cow- ard. Don’t you know, Mortimer, that it 18 always darkest just before day- light?” “I don’t know what you mean,’* said he, “Then listen to me. The old lawyer has just come over from Carragee farm, He says that they have struck a rich we are ruined, life has ended, as well heaven! My might die as for $30,000, and I've agreed to sell it, Uncle Darrow was as much your grand- uncle as he was mine, We'll divide the money, Mortimer, you and 1.” “But I've no right to it Mary,” fal- tered he. “Not by law, perhaps,” said the wid- ow, “but you have by equity—at all events, half of it shall be yours, What do I want with $80,000? Half of it will be great riches for me, The girls are all doing well, and I like to lead a busy life. Nay, Mortimer, you must take itr He turned away his face, “Mary,” sald he, “you have heaped coals of fire on our heads!" “Mary,” sobbed Mrs. Lonsdale, “you are an angel.” a pretty farm on Moon Mountain, and, gtrange to relate, their only son, Greof- frey, eventually married pretty Drix, “So you'll Essie have to adopt one of Mary Drix’s girls, after alll” ber husband. jocosaly said * She’s a perfect little darling!” Mrs. Lonsdale, had softeped strangely of late; “and her mother has said who shown me what a complets fool 1 made of myself. She has brought me to my senses, Mortimer, and I think we are all the happier for having been ruined.” —— The Soldier's Lite, Going into winter quarters the veteran what holiday t First of allt Was ime is to the YO school-boy. Il there was the ed down for a time, the prospect of a long much an increase of personal comfort. The dreary boxes of hard were exchanged for broad sheets of fresh loaves from the Govern- ment The sutler and the arrived, and every table groaned with simple but high-priced luxuries. Hat-building grew into an art. A few men of mechanical instincts would explore the woods, in search of all sorts of odd-shaped roots and branches, creating of these un- promising materials specimens of rustic work remarkable for in de- sign. Usually the huts were built of rough logs, split in half to give the in. terior walls a finish, Shelter tents wer® stretched over the rafters, the chinks between the logs were stopped with wet clay, and a chimney completed the exlifice, Six men formed a mess, shelf. 3 and weeded rest, with bread bakeries, paymaster » ous neatness end. In the center stood a cracker