A CANADIAN FOLK-SONG, The doors are shut, the windows fst; Outside the gust 1a driving past, Qutside the shivering ivy clings, ‘While on the hob the kettle sings, Margery, Margery, make the tea, Bingeth the kettle merrily, The stresms are hushed up where they flowed, The ponds ard frozen along the road; The eattle are housed in shed and byre, While singeth the kettle on the fire Margery, Margery, make the tea, Singeth the kettle merrily, The fisherman on the bay in his boat, Shivers and buttons up his coat; The traveller stops at the tavern door, And the kettle answers the chimney’s roar, Margery, Margery, make the tea, Bingeth the kettle merrily. The firelight dances upon the wall, Footsteps are heard in the outer hall; A kiss and a welcome that fill the room, And the kettle sings in the glimmer and gloom, Margery, Margery, make the tea, Bingeth the kettle merrily. A ——————————————— ELEANOK™ REVENGE The pretty village of Camden was | less crowded than usual, this summer; but why, no one could tell, The cosy little hotel was as neat and inviting as formerly, while the brook was actually sighing at the non-appear- ance of the anglers, who annually re- lieved it of some of the golden-backed fish with which its waters swarmed, Nevertheless, the fow guests at the hotel managed to pass their time quite pleasantly and none more so than pale, delicate Eleanor Thorn. Left an or- phan at an early age, the loss of par- ent’s care and affection had been well supplied by the unselfish love of her aunt, stately Mrs, Chase. My heroine at the time was by no means pretty. Tall, slendor,an almost pallid complex- jon—the result of illness—short hair, of a decided reddish cast. But her eyes, no one could deny, were truly bedutiful. They were of a deep violet i —— nor deeply in love with Dr. Merton,and he, on his part having giving her every cause to think the fecling was returned. On the evening previous to their re turn to London, Eleanor and George strolled off for a walk, ad usual. “I leave for London to-morrow, Blea~ nor.” “Yes, so Mr, Dalton said,” was the almost inaudible reply: *‘Shall you miss me; daclmg, or re- gret my absence?’ And the dark eves were bent on hers. The burning blush which suffused her cheeks was answer sufficient. **1 shall miss your loving looks when far away, my Eleanor, he sald. And placing his arm around the trembling, happy girl, he imprinted a There was should proudly claim her for his bride. But her faith in him needed no such declaration, Returning to the hotel, the four chat- ted pleasantly for a short time.and then separated to their rooms, Half an hour later, all were wrapped in slumber, and when Eleanor awoke in the morning, her lover had gone. For days and weeks she watched for the promised letter, which never came, till, late in the autumn, they too re- turned to the city. Still Eleanor re- ceived no word nor call from her quon- dam lover, and the pvor girl felt that death alone would bring balm to her broken heart, Flve years later, and in the elegant drawing room of Mrs. Chase's residence were gathered wealth and beauty, Bril- liantly the light fell on noble and hand- some men, on ‘women all beauty and bloom.” But queen of them all stood the beautiful woman in whose honor the ball was given. Could it be possible that five years had wrought that marvelous change in the once plain Eleanor? The pallor of her face had given place to a skin of marble | whiteness, relieved by a delicate ping | on the cheeks. Her hair, once fed, was hue, fringed with long jetty lashes, In manoers she was quiet and shrinking, | but withal possessing an amount of | pride and self-possession unexpected in | one so young. To this quiet country | place her aunt had brought her in the | hope of re-establishing her health, and 80 far had met with most gratifying re- sults, One afternoon about th. August, there stepped from the train at the Camden station two gentlemen, | Dr. George Merton and his friend, Ed- | ward Dalton, or, as he was more famil- | larly termed by his friend, Ned. Young Merton was the son of a Lon- | dou physician. He was tall and slight, with raven curls, eyes black as mid- | night, with a cold look in them, which at times could change to one of almost | womanly tenderness, full lips almost | concealed by a heavy moustache, His | companion was in looks much his infe- | : i middle of | rior, but in truth and nobleness far above him. { ‘Not to this life-forsaken place, I | hope,” said the doctor, : “Yes,” replied Ned; “if you want | fishing this is the place.” | **About all there is to recommend it, I should judge.” : “Well, what do you expect in a small country place?” “I am too entirely done up to contest the question with you, old fellow; we'll postpone the argument until some otYer time.” “*Yery well,” replied young Dalton, | “Wait till you have been here fora few days, yow’ll think difféerently,” “Oh!” drawled the doctor; ““wonder if there are any pretiy girlsfoget up a flirtation with?” *Of course your first thought is for the women. “It may be all very fine pastime for you, but, by Jove! I wouldn't like to answer for all the broken hearts laid to your charge.” Having by this time arrived at the hotel, they immediate sought their rooms, nor again appeared till evening, “Mrs, Chaso, this is indeed a great pleasure, Allow me to present my friend, Dr. Merton.” This meeting took place in the din. ing room. Eleanor, entering at this moment, was duly presented to the two young men, her pale face turning crim- son as she met the quizzical gaze of the fastidious doctor, The evening passed most pleasantly, Young Merton was all affability and vefy attentive to the unsophisticated Eleavor. At an early hour they parted, Elea- nor, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, going directly to her mirror, lato which she gazed long and earnestly, “I am not so homely to-night,” said the fascinated girl; ‘‘at least, Dr. Mer- ton toid me twice that I was not.” So, resting her cheek upon her hand, she fell nto a deep reverie, of which heartless George Merton was the theme. “Who is that litte red-headed fright?” laughed young Merton, as he lazily puffed his Havana, “‘Seems to me that you were very. at- tentive to the little fright,*’ “Well, by Jove! she is green; toox every word in downright earnest; splen did prospents for a summer flirtation, Now don’t look so savage, Ned; she'll got over it sometime. Must go to bed and dream of my new love. Good- night, old boy. Pleasant dreams, and compliments were refewed. Days of a deep golden brown. Her crown. ing beauty, her eyes, alone remained unchanged, Among the last guests announced | were Dr. Merton and Edward Dalton, | At the mention of Merton's name, glanee at her niece. But the calm ans. ish passion of her girlhood trcubled her no more, { i As the doctor approached, he looked i * Not that beautiful creature, Ned? | 3 cannot be possible, | “Quite true, I assure you; somewhat | 80 desperately with five years ago.” They were duly presented, and step- ped aside to make room for others, Gally the time passed, and the even- ing was almost over ere the doctor found an opportunity, of again ap- proaching Eleanor, **I hear you have been abroad for some time, Miss Thorn,” “Yes, You remember the summer we met at Camden, doctor?” “Yes,” he faltered. “Aunt and I sailed for Italy that | autumn and remained there five years.” *“Then I flatter myself that you have not forgotten that summer five years ago?” inquired the doctor, “Oh, nol It is indelibly emgraven upon my memory." But astute as was the man as her side, he could not interpret the strange look that accompanied the words, **May I, then, claim the privilege of an oid friend, and call on you?” he asked, fixing a tender gaze upon ber, “Certainly, doctor; let there be no formality between us,” Eleanor was now claimed for a prom- ised dance, and the doctor saw no more of her that evening, Eleanor’s invitation was eagerly ae- cepted and the following evening found Merton seated in Mrs. Chase's draw- ing-room, with Eleanor by his side, Before leaving the house he had ob- tained her consent to drive with him the following day. Then came balls, ‘parties, operas, In quick succession, Never was season 50 gay, and gayest of all was queenly Eleanor Thorn, chaperoned by ber indulgent aunt, and invariably accompanied by Dr. Mer. fou, . One evening he called, and was sur- prised on being told that Miss Thorn was engaged and could not see him, The following evening he received a similar rebuff. As he descended the steps of her house, he encountered his friend, Ned. “Out out'at last?" sald Ned. “What do you mean?" he fiercely de- manded, “Why, haven’t you heard that Miss Thor 18 soon to be married to a. for- eign gentleman of High birth? He has just arrived from Italy,” **I do not believe it! It 18 false! Bat the pallid lips and cheeks told that it was not received as an idle tale, “Come with me, If you want proof,” said his friend. : A few moments later, they entered the theatre, Seated In one of the lower | boxes was Eleanor, radiant, and spark- ling with jewels. By her side, with. dyes fixed lov upon her, was a tall, Tarning her head, she encountered (he burning gaze of George Merton. En and whispered something to him,” He followed the direction of her eyes, and encountered those of his rival. Almost maddened by the sight, Mer ton rushed from the building, nor paused until he reached his own room. On the following evening be called at Mrs, Chase's, and hsked for Miss “Thorn. After w few minutes had slap. sed she entered: the room, logking, if possible, more than ever beautiful to the eyes of the infatuated young man. ‘Eleanor, what means this flirting? Darling, yeu can never know the agony I have endured the last two days.” He attempted to raise her hand tohis lips, Quick as thought she snatched it from his. **Miss Thorn, what do you mean? Is my love nothing to you? For, my dar. ling, I love worship you. For you I would peril my salvation. Oh, Elea- nor, tell me the rumors I hear are false. By the right of my great love 1 demand an answer.’ Pale as a marble statue stood Elea- nor, “Say but that you love me, and on earth I ask no other boon,’ Calmly turning upon her suppliant suitor Eleanor said— “Fortunately for me, doctor, your words are spoken just five years too late, Neither you nor I have forgotten that summer, when, a foolish, trusting chud, I based my happiness on the pro- mises and words of love you poured in- to my ears. I thought Iloved you then; to-day proves the falseness of the sup- position, Marry you! I loathe, abhor youl I then swore, child as I was, that by every woman’s art I would bring you to my feet an humble supoliant, Nature endowed me with beauty; and with that beauty I chained you to my side. For five years I have looked for- ward to this hour of sweet revenge. Gol I spurn you; and every nightof my life I shall thank God for having spared wife of such a man. to-day I shall marry the gentleman you Saw with me last night.” Without one look of pity for the Staggered, balf-maddened by her words, George Merton stood gazing up- on the door. through which she had passed. He hurrried from the house with deep curses on his lips and agony in his heart. He could not but feel, however, {hat hus cruel conduct had been fully rewarded by the scorn and contempt of the girl with whose affec- tions he had played so heartlessly. But when, a week after he read the an- nouncement of her marriage, he felt how terntibly bitter indeed was Elsanor’s Revenge, st—————— A Lord Who Fergot His Trousers, During his journey north, Lord Salis bury, the Conservative leader in the House of Lords, changed his costume for a full Highland rigout, intending it as a delicate compliment to the land of the kilt. But when he 10ked at him- liad cut his petticoats, or whatever they are called, too short. So he made up He changed his upper garments, and then sat down for a few moments to read up his speech. This sent hum to sieep. He only woke up with a start window bowing, and this was how he was dressed: He had full Highland costume as far as the waist; above was a short and swallowed-tailed coat, and the entire edifice was crowned with a chimney-pot Hat, upon whi¢h hs had sat down without noticing it, His lord- ship's horror when he stepped on the platform and felt the keen wind cutting his bare legs changed to absolute agony when his'valet appeared scrambling out of the carriage with a pair of trousers in his hands, waving them wildly, and exclaiming: ‘“‘My lord, my lord, you've forgotten these,” Sleeping on Duty. An instance is reported from Colum bus, Ind., of a railroad engineer falling asleep while at his post, in consequence of working two nights without rest. His locomotive, it seeins, ran twelve miles without the usual control. For tunately, in this case no damage tee sulted, the engine stopping of itself for want of water, Many accidents, how- ever, have occurred, some of them of a terrible sort, by the propensity of over taxed engineers to fall sound asleep while on duty. One particularly lamentable catas trophe arising from this happened a few years ago in connection with an English express. The engineer had brought his train to a halt at night, in consequence of rome trivial derange- ment of the mechanism, and in a ball asleep condition started backward at full speed instead of going forward. He slept soundly and was only’ aroused after his train came into violent collis fon with another that followed it remarkable carelessness, The oral of it is that railroad compaties are ofter gailty ot keeping men who ple ally exhausted ju a position of peculia reponse ah fa a4 Bf aid Hp an To neo the of God wd fo trust it in the, future. as ti i¥ i 8 FEE ely ————————— Afietion, as it strikes. When you introduce a moral lesson let it be brief, Labor has bitter roots, but sweet fruit as well, That which thon t do it nct thyself, There are epidemics of nobleness as well aw of disease. hike the ironsmith, shapes lamest in another, 1 It is better foi a young man to blush than to turn pale. Our greatest good, and what we can least spare is hope. It is not ealling your neighbor names that settles a question. He who gives fair words feeds you with an empty spoon, Fiction pleases the more in propor- tion as it resembles truth. Three things to govern—your tem- per, tongue and conduct. Three things to admire—inteilect diguity and gracefulness, ~ Three things to wish for—health, friends and a contented spirit, ~~ Whatever may be said about luck, it is skill that leads to fortunes, By reading you enrich the mind, by conversation you polish it, Honor demanded is worthless, as in. sult underserved is hurtless, Three things to avoid — idleness, loquacity and Sippant jesting, To know and not have the ability to perform is doubly unfortunate, Faith and hope themselves shall die, while deathless charity remains, Recollection 18 the only paradise from which we cannot be turned out. Great passions necessarily eX pose their possessor to great sacrifices, Good will, like a good name, is got by many actions, and lost by ene. Did universal charity prevail, earth would be a heaven, and hell a fable. Patience In low times 1s an excellent teacher, and hope bears up the soul, Three things to cultivate — good books, good friends and good humor, A talent may be perfected in soli- tude; a character only in the world, ? $ Industry has annexed thereto the fairest fruits and the richest rewards, We find self-made men often, pat self-unmade ones s good deal oftener. No woman is educated who 18 not equal to the successful management of | a family. Wealth legitimately acquired is val- unable, and 1t is only valuable when thus acquired, The key of fate is in our own hands; we often unlock it and then throw the key away, Act well at the moment, and you | have performed a good action for all | elermily, A rash man is liable to break out any moment, no matter how he may feel about it. it is sald that every other demon ate tacks in the front, but slender assaults from behind, One true friend adds more to eur hap. piness than a thousand enemies to our unhappiness, I know no such things as genius said Hogarth, genius is nothing but labor and diligence. Emotion is the bud, not the flower; and never is it of value until it expands mito a flower. We attract hearts by the qualities we display; we retain them by the qualities we possess, Laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hor- nets break through, Nothing more quickly consumes the vigor of life than the violence of the emotions of the mind. While un word 1s yet unspoken you are master of it. When it is once spo- ken it is master of you. The ignorant man hath no greater foe than his own ignorance, for it de- stroyeth where it liveth, Pride is a vice, which pride itself in- clines every man to find in others, and to overlook in himself, He that will make a good use of any part of his life must allow a large por- gion of it to recreation. To develop in each individual all the perfection of which he is susceptible, is the object of education. The reason why men succeed who mind their own business is because there is so little competition. Make people lappy, and there will not be half the quarreling ora tenth part of the wickedness there is. One dies twice; to cease to live is nothing, but to cease to love aud be foved is an insupportable death. Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which, in prosperous circum. stances would have lain dormant, Humility, sweet as it may be as a trait of character, may degenerate into vice, if not upheld by sélf-respeet. Taste, If it means anything but a paltry connolsseurship, must mean a general susceptibility to truth and uobleness, . A benevolent disposition is no doubt a great help toward a course of uniform practical bepevolence, but let no ‘one trust to it, when there are other strong propensities and no firm good PEO | ple. lntercession is the very safety vilye of love. When we feel that we can really do nothing at all in return for some remarkable Kindness and NEWS OF THF. WEEK | ~