HAPPIEST DAYS,
The clouds in many a windy raek
Are satling east and west,
And sober suns are bringing back
The days I love the best.
"We poet as he will, may go
To summer's golden prime,
And set the roses in a row
-Aiong bis fragrant rhyme,
But as for me. I sing the praise
Of fading flowers and trees,
For to my mind the sweetest days
Of all the year are these :
‘When stubbey hills and hazy skies
Proclaim the harvest done,
Axd labor wipes his brow, and liea
A dreaming in the sun —
And idly hangs the spider on
Her broken silver stair,
And ghosts of thistles dead and gone,
Slide siowly through the air—
‘Where all is still, unless, perhaps,
The cricket makes ado,
Or when the dry-billed heron snaps
Some brittle reed in two—
Or schoolboy tramples through the bars
His tangled path to keep,
Or ripe mast, rustling dow nward stirs
The shadows from their sleep.
Ave, he that wiils i!
The lilies and the
Put as for me the swe
Ui all the year ,
RO may praise
TRUE TO HER PROMISE,
*Oh God! spa ne, for this 1s
than [ can bear!’ and Claire Devere
bowed her proud head, and sank, weep-
ing, on her knees, at a low, easy chai
in her exqui i :
For some
form, but gradu
she remain
uried in her
A half how she was still
in the same position, he door
opened, and t] :
stood looking att
ure.
Claire ha entrance
and for ¢ without
speaking, when he said, ina cold 8
voice:
‘Claire!’
The rn a
mora
100k her slender
hey subsided, and
quietly kneells her face,
ed
ki: Claire D
her husband
‘he was very beautiful, thi
stately Claire,
den brown |
to her waist,
tures as cla
large, gr:
ness, and :
a Crimson 38
half proud. half 1
whose beauty ned
given up al !
hope of winni
Andout of all bh
sen Grey Devere.
Some sald that it was his
wealth that won her, otners, the
tion it would give her, for Fe was
{f the leading men of the day. Dat
the few that xuew her said she married
him for love, and they w
She loved him with a passionate
akin to adoration, a love so fervent that
even he himself never dreamed of its
depth, and now she stood before him,
her hands clasped tightly together, her
face pale as death, raised to his
She was the first to speak,
‘Grey,’ she said, and
voice trembled, despite her effort to be
calm.
in me for a short time.’
“Trust you—Dbelieve in you?’ he said,
1nmense
ane
re right.
1
Ove,
and my name, unsullied till you bore it,
traitress; you are no longer wife of
mine; we part to-pay, and forever,’
pleading, but as he continued,
changed; a crimson flush of indigna-
met his with a questioning look.
‘Do you hear me, he continued, do
you hear me, madam?’
‘I hear you’ she answered, ‘and I ask
manner?’
band with a mocking smile.
Again the pale face crimsoned, but
she made no answer,
‘We part forever, to-day,” he con-
tinned. ‘And I intend to sue for a di-
vorce, Claire,
lover till your last, and now you ask
me to believe in you, to trust you still.
Explain these meetings, and ask then.’
floor at his feet.
I am true to you!
honor, in my—'
“T'his 1s useless, Claire, I cannot trust
you; I believe you are false to me. 1
will uever look on your face again, 1
ask you to give me some explanation of
your conduct, and you refuse. What
am I to believe? I have proof that you
met this dar x-eyed stranger time after
time; you do not deny it yourse'f, and
yet you ask me to believe in you, to
trust you stilll’
Claire drew her slender figure up to
its height and said, proudly:
‘It’s better, then, as you say, that we
should part, and at once. I will listen
no longer to your insults, I will plead
no longer for your trust. A day will
come when you will know how you have
wronged me. Leave me now, I can
bear no more. Gol’
He tried to speak again, but she tur-
ned haughtily away, making a jesture
toward the door.
Without a word, he turned and left
the room, and his wife sank senseless
on the floor.
Four years have passed away; how
quickly to some, but how slowly to the
tortured heart of Claire Devere,
After her separation from her hus.
band she returned to the home of her
childhood.
She had a smal! income of her own,
and refused to take anything from her
h
usband.
‘I have plenty in my own right,’ she
said, ‘I will fo live at Oakland
Grange. 1 wish to aie out of his life
forever.
She is standing now at the jasior
window of the Grange, gazing sadly out
at the green fields and meadows that
stretohed far away in the distance,
Thas had been ber childbhood’s home;
here she had grow
beauty, the idolized darling of her par-
ents’ hearts.
Her thoughts strayed back to that
time, she thought of the day her loved
mother died, how her proud city aunt
had taken her home, of the excitement
her wonderous beauty had caused in
London, but most plainly of all stood
out the day she first met Grey Devere,
How handsome he was, with his proud,
dark face and kingly bearing—how she
had learned to love him, day by day—
she thought of the bliss of her brief
married life.
to love her, until the dark shadow of
suspicion had come between them, and
then how he had turned from her.
She turned slowly from the window,
and went over to a picture hanging
abova the mantel piece.
likeness of a beautiful dark-haired,
dark-eyed woman,
‘Oh, mother—mother!’ she sobbed,
‘have I not kept my prounise?’
At this instant servant entered with
a letter,
opened it mechanically,
note, and was as follows:
‘Dear Crare.—Come to me,
. WILLIE.
Three hours after Claire stood beside
of a dying man, her hands
clasped her tears falling his
in ois, on
picture hanging above the mantel in the
of Oakland Grange.
was speaking:
rou would never break your
Nawre, and 1 have let you suf-
fer for me. I was always weak, and
though you have known the depths of
which I have been led, you
till mother's sake.
t the truth, from
Devere, and
vindica-
Pariolf
crime in
love tha i
But Claire
beg i nd. to Grey
YOill i
ted.
ill be
ifted it. The first words
whol 1 were:
GE I8 Hien lare.—Th
marriage of Grey Devere, to Eva,
ond dane of Wilham M. Stewart
Thea followed a long description of
l Bt what was that
an heart, alone in
she
are
late!” moaned,
*Oh, Grey! my darlin
we forever!’
When Claire's old
g you lost to
nurse came Lo
yy
uy
senseless on the floor,
‘My poor pet!’ she said, loosening the
i held in her hand,
She looked to see what had so affected
she smiled,
‘She thought it
said: ‘she cannot have read it through,
and she forgot thers was another Grey
Devere, the youngest brother of her
husband's father,
Grev Devere was alone.
he held an open letter,
white as ce read it and suddenly it
dropped from his nerveless grasp.
*Oh, God!’ he moaned, ‘Claire, Claire!
my darling, my beautiful love, my love!
In his band
‘To Grey Devere, Sir:
be told
She was beautiful and of
ne'er-do well, called Captain Nernett.
Well, the girl loved him, or thought
she did, while h-r father was bitterly
opposed to him, he had forbidden his
him. But this only tended to make the
to come to the point at once, there was
a secret marriage between them, and
two months after the captain's regi-
spected for his own sake, independen’ [
of the questions to whem or what he
was, he became ‘catspaw’ for a trio of
clever scoundrels,
‘Iis sister still clung to ham, even
when he degraded himself bayond mea
sure. She dare nbt meet lam openly, |
and he unmanly coward, as well as e3
erything else, constantly reminded he
of her promise to her dead mother al
rays to give him all the help in her
power, and never to forsake be
sides, villain thongh he was, she loved
him with a sister's holy love,
*At last her hushand found out their
meeting, and accused the falr youn
His jealous rage was
dreadful; he cursed her fora traitress,
she could not denv hel
meetings with a man she did not know,
and she refused to give an explanation.
They parted,a divorce was granted and |
“The woman first spoken of, the wife |
Doug~ |
the mother
I have the proofs of my
I am the hail
brother of Claire Everton, and I
the man she met and shielded, (10 i
her and all will be This is |
written whose days are num
heared, and sign g
time, I fear,
For almost
letter, Grey 1)
lass, my mother, and also
of your wife.
atu |
ty
forgl
Ven.
myself, for the
WILLIAM
an Dour allel
Were
Claire.’ he sa
H . and then
he repeated
$i fit
leep like, like a
™ » sé hag
Three mths af
wedding in a little country church, and
} 3 + 3 1 -
the bride had hair of golden brown and
eyes of the deepest gray, and her hus.
tor £3 . 4 113 at
LET LOBTe Was A QU
i
-_ -
in Revea Seconds,
Gentlemen,’ he began in a smooth,
“lam dead
I want to raise
|
|
broke bul no beggar.
|
|
legitimate manner. Now, then, let me
ask you to inspect this.”
He took from his pocket a piece of
chain as large as his thumb and |
six links and passed it,
After it had been carefully |
tinued: :
“I want to bet my overcoat, which is
from the others.”
The piece of chain was passed around |
machinist, returned ii with the remark: |
“*And I want to put up thal sam |
it yourself,
“sPDonel” said the stranger as he
Coat and cash were put up in the |
The unfortunate woman
despair.
‘11 her sorrow she turned to her fos
ter mother for consolation.
shorten my story; let it suffice to say
ger asked the group to follow him. He |
across the street and into a
blacksmith's shop, and picked up a
The erowd stood around like so many
pumpins at a county fair, but when the
the stakes the machinist recovered his
“Sold by a professional dead-beat!
The money is vours, old fellow, but in |
eret, her child was born at her foster.
mother’s home and ne one ever sus-
pected the truth, Some years past and
the girl married again, and one year
after the second marriage a daughter
was given to her.
‘When the daughter was seventeen
the lady died, but not before she had
{old her daughter the story of her first
marriage, and made her promise to give
all the assistance in her power to help
her brother (‘or the child of her first
marriage was a boy) in nis endeavor to
prove his night to his father's name, and
also to swear that she would keep the
affair a se¢ret until they bad proof of
the secret marriage, and if proof was
naver found, to keep it hidden forever.
She told the boy the story as well, and
bound him to the same promise,
“The orphan girl learned to love her
newly-found brother, partly for his own
sake, but principally for their mother’s,
*After a few years she marrried a
jestisman, and for a time she was very
“Her brother was of a weak, timid
and so,
nature, easily led into Wrong
instead of manfully se'ting {s mind to
ve lls mother’s mariage, or if that
wed, to make himself honored and re-
better be twenty rods off!”
“ “Thanks—glad to bave mot you
good day!” replied the stranger, and he
was out of sight in seven seconds,
Bell of Justioe,
It is a beautifnl story that in one of
the old cities of Italy, the king caused
a bell to be hung in 8 tower in one of
the public squares, and called it the
“Bell of Justier,” and commanded
that any one who had been wronged
should go and ring the bell, and so call
the magistrates of the city and ask to
receive justice. And when, in the
course of time the lower end of the bell
rope rotted away, a wild vine was tied
to it to lengthen it; and one day an old
and starving horse, that had been aban.
doned by its owner and turned out to
die, wandered into the tower, and, in
trying to ¢at the vine, the bell.
And the magistrate of the city. comin
to see who rang the bell, found this ol
and starving horse, And he caused
the owner of the horse, in whose service
he had tolled and been worn out, to be
summoned before him, and decreed,
that as this poor horse had rung the
“Hell of Justice,” he should have jus
Sioa, and that during the remainder of
the 's life his owner should pro-
vide for him proper tood ang drink and
Inthe Far ast.
The shops of Cairo, Egypt, line each
side Hike a succession of moderate-sizui
cupboards, though they are some six
feet wide, The tloor of each rislaed
wbont three feet,
Upon this the merchant sits without
his shoes, generally smoking his pipe,
while all around, within easy’
distance, are his shelves, where
goods can often be taken down without
the trouble of rising There
scriptions over many of the shop, suc
as, **O, Allah ! thou who
gates with profit I'’ or, **O, Allah Ithou
who helpest us in want!” Aid
from Allah snd rapid victory’ and
these are repeated by the shopkoesper as
is
are in
Oise ur
Or,
t %
MYC
The different
special districts,
() 1 shoe bazar has nothing but red
shoes, and apother nothing but yellow
ones, and You Can gee the peopie mak -
The coppersmith’s
trades each
iN.
then
img them, quarter
alley you find the
their odd-
1 with
00K ng goat-skin bel
gold and silversmil
1 3 i
5 and their fur-
ind tools on the 1
fen wi
s doorways lead
el w
8 Of gray
re. while the
«1 hit
uy
rE
taller CiOLh spread
them or Keaps oul scrap of
vi go $
Aes ol
vivid sunshine, an
»
i Lhe Very n
he places where Lhe Tugs am made
give dash yalery 10 the whole
thing. Butthe purchase is over, aud
you turn lowards Loine once more, past
the bookshelves, where you can buy the
“Arabian Nights" in Arabic, and past
the mosques, which are placed there a
if to remind men not to forget God in
their busiest hours.
Next, perhaps, you meet 4 man with
a tray of candy, which
like our yellow jack; another has
starch in bowls, and, as sweets
one thirsty, a waler-carrier is
enough to follow him
Sometimes he bears a large stone jar
with a long spout, supported on his
back by anpetting; or be may have a
goat-skin full of walter, held on his
shoulder by a big strap; and, as he
bends over with the weight of 1t, it is
not & pretty sight, not apt to make one
thirsty. Each vender goes along clink-
ing two brass cups together to aliract
Having seen about all you
remount your donkeys and merrily ride
home,
a of nu
sme of 100k 8
Swaed
make
smart
an mm 5 sor MIRAI —
Not Transferabie,
classes who resent the
The feeling
against such practices is very common,
and vet how many people are slow to
“Not transferable’ might be inscribed
on many things beside season tickets.
The wisest of fools, Wamba, in *Ivan-
than when he remarked that “kind ser.
hand like a shuttlecock or a steel-bail,’
yet many
fond of attempting the feat. Offers of
themselves personally are hy them
cooly transferred to some outsider,
whom the profferer of the Kindness has
no reason to desire to oblige. ‘My son
cannot accept the appointment you
offer, bat I have promised it to a young
friend, whom it will just suit’’< “the
child you undertook to vote for is elects
ed, but I have filled in the poling pa:
wer for another most deserving case,’
fave not many of us experienced this
kind of benevolent transference of our
proffered favors, and resented it as
much as do the railway directors the
handling about of the tickets?
A far more common description of
attempted transference is that of claim-
ing a share in the fame of an illustnous
relative solely upon the plea of kindred.
History is tu'l of examples of men who
attempted to obtain wealth and consid-
eration by this system. *‘I was the son
of my father,” or *‘the relative ot the
pular hero,” has proved a valid rea-
son for the transfer of such reflected
glory. There is a story of an old Scoteh
pexton who possessed a guinea at a time
when such coins were rare in Highland
parishes, He used to exhibit the trea.
sure as a curiosity on Sundays after the
Hard times came, however, and the
sexton was forced to spend his cherished
colin Next Sunday applicants came as
usual to view it; but in vain, Budden
ly a bright thought struck the old man,
“Here, lads.” he cried, *‘yve canna see
the guinea, but ye shall the purse
that held it for a pine ‘sneeshin’,”
Munv names chronicled in history have
remembered rather after this
fashion. They were not the guinea itself,
but associated with it in
regular estimation, and some consequent
transference of fame took place,
MONE men have reserved
sharing of their dignity; others have
readily avreed 0 To raise his
family to wt equal to has
1m a portion
constant
“The
Bonaparte
who steadily
fifa
1 Of
bse ny
happened Lo be
& ¥ i
great this
fortunes
PN, and to transfer t
f his own greatness
of the first
one wise membar
family,’ the
refused to exchange his
HCE A/S B pat ish prie 1
advancement {
greatly enrag
was Lhe
attempt Napoleon.
the
of
old unol
for any
Lmperor,
ious relative by his refus
other hand excliam
ib of Wamba had }
4 i
pled?
r sakes’
neiple to its extremest Limit when he
pote toh ecommending lady
Y armouth graces on the
extraordina lea, “You must
the Walmoden, you know that
But alin ost
is the free and manner
3 MANY Persons to be.
stow. not their own affections only, but
isn those of their friends certain
favored persons. **You will be sure to
be delighted with so and so. I have
told him t
wi
nove
she
loves mel
ai bie generous
which
engage
on
in various forius, and one nearly always
resented, secretly, perhaps, but none
the less deeply. by the I'stener. Does
introduced to the people to whom we
are thus bidden to transfer our attach-
ments? Are we not inclined to rank
them with that detested
who was our torment In
Affection, as the poet truly remarks,
must give itself unasked, unsought, and
a teeling of friendly attachment can
never be transferred at bidding.
a shuttle-cock, kindiy feelings are still
ssn AAI AS
A Vigorous (Mid Canadian Farmer.
A remarkable feat of physical strength
a pioneer farmer of Aldborough town-
ship, Canada. Mr. Biue is. the oldest
ninetieth year. A short time ago he
went into the field after one o'clock in
the afternoon and pound 64 sheaves of
wheat in a short time. The work did
not fatigue him to any extent. He
possession of his faculties. Ie 18 the
father of Mr. Archibald Blue of the
Bureau of Statistics,
Fortune befriends the bold.
Order is Heaven's first law,
Youthshould be a saving's bank,
Industry prevents vice.
Betray no trust, divulge no secre.
There is only one stimulant that
never fails, and yet never intoxicates—
Duty. Duty puts a blue sky over very
man<up in his heart, maybe-into
which the sky-lark, happiness always
goes singing.
Men are not to be judged by their
looks, habits and appearances, but by
the character of their lives and conver
sations, and by their worka, Tis bet-
par that a man's words should praise
m,
Ligud Steel. —A rolling mill has
been devised for rolling molten rou or
stool in a liquid state, According to
this, the rolls are oast hollow, so as to
receive a current of water whioh will
maintain sufficiently low temperature,
and the metal is to run from a bh
RL RA S50 ER WEA STIR 0 WR
FOOD FOR THOUGH.
Pen and ink are the best witnesses,
vet Letraved
+4 Ff =
MO Us 6
Fools rush where angels |
read
Patience
Wet,
Conscience
J Mn,
The
yond.
really beau
Character
appre!
tL » TE st}
VETrsal Wulas
v
i
$y
Wivu
e.
bounty
phil
8 in trull
ife itself.
the
sst of
¥ x54 3
« Wh
ambition, thinking a
little of which presently it hath
itself to stand in need
which it hath not.
Hard words the halistones uo
summer, beating down and destroy
thes nourish were
Covelous
1 th
poseth
are
ing
would they
One of the best rules in conversation
is never to say a thing which any of
the company can reasonably wish we
bad left unsaid.
Wounldst thou that thy flesh obey thy
spirit? Then Jet thy spirit obey thy
Thou must be governed, thal
thou mayesl govern.
It is the greatest apd first use of
history to.show us the sublime iu
us what greal men
have done in perilous seasons,
So long as thou art ignorant
Ignorance is
nl
the
a hey
De
justified, the chiefest of all follies.
life we
must noi
of must
expect
CATTY
In every relation
There should be methinks, as {ithe
merit in loving a woman for her beaut)
as in loving a man for his prosperity
both being equally subject to change.
There is no man that is knowingly
there is no man that carries guilt about
him but he receives a sting iuto hi
soul.
The water that has no taste i= pun
est; the rain that has no odor is fresh
est; and of all the modifications of
manner, the most generally pleasing
sumplicity.
The foundation of every good gov
ernment is the family. The best and
Sorrow itself is not 80 hard to bear a
the thought of sorrow coming. Ain
ghosts that work no harm do ]
us more than men in steel with bloody
purposes,
The child taught to believe any oe
currence a good or evil omen, or an)
A cucumber is bitter throw it away.
There are briars in the road; turn aside
from them. This is enough. Do nol
add: and why were such things made
in the world