Forever Young. The wild world hastens ou ils way; The gray-haired century nears its close; Its sorrow deepens day by day; The summer blush forsakes the rose. But, darling, while your voice I hear, And while your dark-brown eyes I see, Sad months and sunless, seasons drear, Are all the same all glad to me, Despair can never reach me * While your soft hand I hold; W hile your eyes love and teach me { never shall grow old! They say that love forsakes the old, That passion pales and fades away; That even love's bright locks of gol Must lose their charm and change to gray. But, darling, while your heart is mine, And while I feel that you are true, For me the skies will ever shine With summer light and tenderest blue. Yes, let old age deride mel I scorn his mocking tongue. Dear love, with you beside me, 1 am forever youngl I GR TA RE, HULDY’S PUMPKIN PIES. As lluldy Brown stood at the kitchen table. her white arms bare to the el- pow. and her hands which were some- what red, employed just then in deftly molding a scalloped piece of dough-edg- ing on the edge of one of ber celebrated pumpkin ples, she looked about as un- happy a girl as you could easily find, 1 have sald her *‘celebrated pies.’ Not only were they so, but they deserved to be: for was not Huldy the sole reposi- tress of the great recipe at the mention of which the good housewives of Bing- hampton glanced at each other In des- | Did it not come to her from her | ther, old Mrs. Clemmer, Dea- i skiah Clemmer’s wife. And | : nob whispered to Huldy as the two | de by side, holding each other’s | the darkened kitchen? great s position as the i ust was recognized in the y way in which these pies were spolee of. | They were not **Huldy pies,” nc ‘Brown pies,’ nor even the “Ci pies.” they were the “Jackson, for old Mrs. Clemmer had got the recipe | her grandmother, who was almost | syne of the Pilgrims; and this gave au | \lmost religious flavor to the delight of | eating them, i No portion of her work was done by | Huldy with more care than the making them. The oven had to be just right; the door must be open at just the proper | me. I donot know what they were | the fact that to the pumpki hands, iI H of of beyond was added ce,” as the old description of | ¢ little girls has it; but they were | ick and sweet and brown on top, and | rust was light, and they were good. | days of which 1 write—1847— | 4 lity to make such pies as Huldy | made was quite sufficient to give any | zirl distinction among her fellows, and | to go along way towards giving her but Huldy had other and | tter claims to the position she un- | tedly held in the country village — ¢ one of the best loved girls there. | was pretty, affectionate and very | rind to all; she would take any amount of trouble for those she loved, and her | kindness was never appealed to in vain, even when strangers were concerned, | She was smart, too; there were few sin the list of accomplishments, | luties,’ as they were cailed thenin | England, that Huldy could not | do wed. She kept her father’s | in such a state of cleanly neatness ¢ it was almost a sin to muss things ne in on those well-scrubbed h dirty boots, although it must | fessed that to men folks this was | trifle irritating. It is a well- fact that men’s minds are in such matters not well organized, and that they rarely take that undisguised pleasure they should in them. Buteven if Huldy's father did sometimes feel that he would enjoy things better if she was not quite so particular, he thought it was erring in the right direction, and beyond a good-natured protest occasion- ally, said little. In short, Huldy Brown was one of those dear, good girls of whom our country has, and has had, fortunately not a few. But, bless my soul, I have left her making that pie all this time, and what is worse, for the pie has been finished, I have left her looking unhappy. The truth of the matter was that Huldy had not been left all these years without attention on the part of the young fel- lows of the place, and one of them, a carpenter by the name of Sam Steevens, had been looked upon by her, if not with favor, at least not with the reverse. Things had been going on swimmingly enough, until the Wednesday before, when liuldy had gone to a quilting | party with Jim Fursess, a young far- | mer in the neighborhood, of whom Sam was mortally jealous, It was Sam’s own fault partially, for he had not asked her, although she had waited to the last to give him a chance of doing 80; and vet not wholly hus faudt, for he did not know he could go himself until an hour before the time to leave. Of course we had not explained this to her—that was not to be expected, I suppose. How- ever, when he found he could go, he dressed himself and called at Huldy’s house only to find that she had gone. Very much irritated, although most un- reasonably so, Sam had at first resolved that he would not go at all, and then thinking worse of it instead of better, had asked Miss Mehitable Smith, who was glad to accept. At the party he had been very devoted to his companion, and poor Huldy had got angry. Thinking to herself that two could play at that game, she had laughed and joked with Jim Furness until Sam was completely out-generaled and was perfectly unable to conceal his chagrin and anger. Somewhat scared at her own success Huldy had, later in the evening, made overatures for a reconciliation, but Sam had rejected them angrily, and she, con- selous that he was quite as much to blame as herself, had tried no more, Be it observed, that a word of explana- tion would have cleared everything. Huldy did not know of the uncertainty about Sam’s being able to come, and su be had chosen Mehitable in preference to herself. Sam did know that Huldy had pub for his when POPUIATILY) 18 Jim Furness off twice, wal invitation, and had only she had given him up. the ex- planation, the two wenthome - iy unhappy, Sam leaving first and tak- ing the unfortunate hitable with him, while Huldy made herself any- thing but agreeable to Jim, Since that evening Sam had not been pear her, What made things worse was that the Sunday evening after the quilting had passed without his coming, and that, too, when Huldy had been morally cer- tain that he would call as usual and make it al! up. It was new Tuesday, and she was feeling very sad indeed. Having fin! hed her ples, four of them standing there in a row looking good enough to eat before they were cooked, Huldy put them into the oven, and, taking her sewing, sat down. As she worked she thought of Sam, and bitter- ly blamed herself for what she had done. She argued out in some way to the con- clusion in her own mind that the fault was hers only, and she somehow admi- red Sam for getting angry. She had barsly arrived at this, and had only just made up her mind that she ought to make the first overatures towards a re- cocciliation, when she heard a some- what hesitating step outside on the porch; and then, after a moment’s pause, a knock, Now, I do not Know why, because, a moment after, Huldy declared that she had no ideaat all who her visitor was, but it was certain that her heart beat faster, She called out: “Come in,” and the door opened. There, awkwardly, stood Sam looking decidedly sheepish, and wiping his feet with great zeal. glance at hun, and her eyes brighter. Curiously tnough, too, instantly abandoned her idea of making rat thought to have a er Sam was going uneasy time of (it. “Oh! said Sam; *haowdye!” “Howdye, Sam,” “Deacon t'hum?’’ said Sam. Cunning Sam, after watching { | i i i moved a stone idol to pity, but it had no effect on her, “You ought t’ hev stayed. We had a most pleasant time, and the drive hum by moonlight wae splendid,” she went on. “1 must say I think that ar Jim Fuir ness hez th’ poorest critters aout,” sad Sam, witheringly. “I sh’ud be shamed for t' take a nice girl aout with wuck hosses,” “No doubt,” sald Huldy, There was nothing in this speech be- yond a complete agreement with Sam’s statement, and it 1s, therefore, curious that he should have felt himself moved by it sufficiently to say, under hs breath: “Dang it!” “Why, Sam!’} And Huldy’s big eyes were open to tir widest.” “Be you swearin’? Don’t you rec-1’ect what th’ minister said no later ’n last Subbath? Oh, Sam, I am surprised. I really be,” This was probably true, as Huldy said it, butshe did not look very much Ministers don’t protested Sam, “Look yere, Huldy. know everything,” meekly. “Well, ’tis wrong t’ swear, anyway,” said Huldy, in a very mild tone, “So 'tis; so tis,” agreed Sam, eager- ly. “*Naow, ff you'd talk that way all th’ time, Huldy, 1'd never swear.” And he drew his chair a little closer to her. “Talk that way! Why, Sam Stevens, 191) i “Nol nol I didn’t “I'm afraid in mean that.” you're rather given ings you don't mean. I dunno ' bench. “Hes just stepped down 't Mrs, Baillie. Th’ squire’s sick,” said Hul- know the road and what it led by. “Da tell!” said Sam. “What him?" “‘Influenzy, ails ['ve heard, But come 11915 “I sorter called t’ see your pa, but—"’ Well; he’ll be in ¢’ i “Oh!” groaned Sam. “Well, she might, Sam— “Oh, Huldy, don’t!” “What's the matter, Sm? { After the Lion, Ia July, afew years ago, two fine lions made their appearance'in a jungle, gome twenty miles distant from the cantonment of Rajcote, in the East In- dies, where Captain Woodhouse, and his two friends, Lieutenant Dalaman and Lang were stationed. An elephant was dispatched to the place in the evening on which the infor- mation arrived; and on the morrow, at the break of day, three gentlemen set off on horseback, full of glee, and ela. ted with the hope of a speedy engage- ment, On arriving at the edge of the jungle, people were ordered to ascend the neigh- boring trees, that they might be able to trace the route of the lions, in case they left the cover. After beating about in the jungle for some time, the hunters started the two lordly strangers, The officers fired immediately, and one of the lions fell to rise no more, His eo. apanion broke cover, and took off across the country. The officers now pursued him on horseback, as fast as the nature of the ground would allow, until they learned 1, the lion had gone back into the thicket. Upon this, the three oflicers returned to the edge of the jungle, and, haying dismounted from their he upon the elephant; Captal the hindermost seat. proceeded toward 1 hie expecial fousing the royal fugitive ¢ They found him standing under with his face direct I'ses, They now t ¥ Ws >On peppermint, women who were Huldy turned indifferently away. Da- Sam found that there was down at once. He uneasily, looked around, wiped his fore- head with his red bandanna, and then said: “Ef you'll—er—that air, ef you don’t mind, I guess I’ll sorter wail naoew.”’ “Juse as you please,” said Huldy, 1s 7) Sit. Sam came in, and taking a chalr, sat down, placing his hat upon the floor. He then folded his ands upon his lap, and having done so, became suddenly conscious of the size of seemed unusually large he thonght. With some difficulty he contrived ~to them under his chair and, having «one so, felt, for moment, better. In the meantime, Huldy went bustling about kitcken, glancing fartively at him now and then, Sam he the hi suddenly grown large and looked, ob, so red! He would have given worlds to have picked the hat up and covered stand out on his face, and he wanted to wipe it. Unfortunate one, his handker- chief was in his hat. passed his hand over | replacing it in his lap, though, as he caught Huldy’s ey. upon him, wished he had not hage left could he but have thought of him and sald: “Sam, I wish you'd fetch me a pail o’ water while you're waitin’, *. “Oh, Huldy! 'taint colic.” “What then? Rheumatiz?” “It's —er—my-—er—heart,” broke out looking at her *‘all eyes,” “Mercy ms! Your heart! Why Sam, Doctor Philkins,” “He can’t dono good,” said Sam, dolefally. “I'm er—in love.” “Naow, I declar’, that’s too bad made a sudden dart at the elephant, clung on his trunk with a tremendous roar, and wounding him just above the eye. While he was in the act of doing this, he two lieutenants fired at him, but without success. The elephant now shook him off; but the flerce and sud- den attack on the patt of the li nto the greatest i Beem- coasternation. This was the first time he had ever come in contact with so formidable an urging him f the lio: At iast, he Decame sows wiial table; but, as he was advancing the jungle, all or a s th on again in quest ( ¢ iden, the in the ol: grass, made at his vith redoubled i “*Mehitable be" Sam!" “Blessed thoy LIE, Now, Huldy {? me.” of the girl’s hand, Hully"s coolness “Thar’s that’s away. Sam went or girl as I cares for, and knows I acted foolish last Wednesday, and I'm down right sorry for it. Baul, Huldy, I do love you, true and honest. If you'll marry ms, Huldy, I'll try and make your life happy.” like a bend flower. that she vrapped 1n happiness, that she had ng more hope for, noth- ing more t wish, Sam around her and drew her close to him, and as be said: “Huldy, Huldy?" Huldy looked up shyly, and whisper- d tr HOI vo 0 » dear—don’t you love eid. “I'm very happy Sam. It fault after all.” “No, no; it was mine.” Was my Sam?” she said, after a short “A bout as much as you do for Jim,” would not let go of it again—he took the bucket, and went toward the well, over which the high *‘sweep’ pointed skywards. Huldy stood at the door looking after him with something of a malicious twinkle in her eye; or perhaps I should say a mischievous one, with a kindly under-look. When he came tack she thanked him, and asked him to much to the relief of Sam’s spirit. Bat got him safely beside her and had takgn up her sewing again, she began: “You seemed ’t enjoy yourself th’ other night at th’ quiitin’, Sam.’ Sam started, almost drepped his hat, but clutched it in time, “Fr —yes—'twas condside able pleas- ant like,” he said, getting red and hift- ing about his ears, “I took notice,’”’ went on the merci- leas Huldy, demurely biting off a thread and looking at him sideways out of her bright blue eyes, *‘as how you seemed t’ think consider'ble o' Meshitable, She’s a nice girl, Sam, and your mother likes her.” Sam thought he saw his opportunity, “Wa'al, I took notice as Jim Fur. ness wasn’t havin’ a bad time neither.” Huldy did not even blush, “Yes, indeed, Jim is so pleasant most every one likes him, and nate rally he has a nice time.” Sam concluded he had not made much that time, and gazed uneasily at the floor, trying to think of something to say whieh would combine an ex . sion of deep and devoted love for Hul- dy and supreme contempt for the whole Furness family, He had in fact, com- posed such a speech the Sunday before, and had rehearsed it many time since, but somehow it did not seem to have the point now he had looked upon it as ng at first, While he was try- to improve it Huldy went on inno- oautly: *“Y ou seemed t’ leave wight sudden, Was Mehitable curi’s t’ go home?" “Waal,” said the miserable Sam, “she an’ me 'greed as ’ was stupid.” “You don't say! I'msu at you. 1 be, indeed,” said that wicked Huldy. Sam's beseeching glance would av ¥ Huldy gave a smile, and nestled her head down closely on his breast. long they sat there, filling up the time with broken sentences and whispered words, neither never knew. Suddenly hand on the latch, Huldy sprang up, the door opened and her father stepped in, “Why, what on airth,”’ said he, sniff. ing, *‘air burnin’?” “Oh! my ples!” said Huldy, spring- ing to the stove, “They're all burnt.” ““You let your pies burn, Huldy?” “Why, how Hello Sam! Glad t’ see thee. Never mind Huldy,”” he went on, glancing keenly at the two, it being a question which had the most color, “‘a few burnt pies don’t matter much to- day, do they, gal? Sam, let's shake hands,” Sn ———— AID VOI An Obedient Barglar. Inspector Thorne of New Yok city related at police headquarters the fol- lowing story: A lady living in a large brownstone house just off Fifth avenue was in her home one night Jast week with an invalid mother in hér charge, and nobody but a woman servant to as. gist her. All the men had gone off to a Just before 11 o'clock the sick woman became worse, The daugbter was alarmed and went to ring the Dell, intending to send the servant for a par- ticular kind of medicine, The girl ap- psared just at this moment, and in a terrified voice, informed her nnsstress that there was a burglar in the base- ment, “It is just what 1 want,” said the misstress, *‘a man to send for medi cine.” She went down to the basement and encountered a burly negro in a room in the basement. “Come out!” she sald in an impara- tive tone. The negro who had been a slave, in- stinctively listened to the tone of au- thority and obeyed, He took the order for the prescription, had it filed, and returned with the medicine and change, flicers now lost heir elephant 1 abrutply, a: ungovernable, at hi with his teeth, an th : oa tha $r344na s+ A3 we joing 2 & $a weeny . i t he uproar of { taki o i ng a NO exertions vid could now force th phant to face his fiercest nd themselves reduc corsa Determined, i il closer quarters with ti ging of quadrupeds, ouse t ywever, to sis f ahi ie formidable . + tr aptain Wood- ( ate resolulic to 3 bh wok the desper n of ie lion indistinctly through the | | | | | into ha retire, with the utinost composure The two lieutenants, who had remain. ed at the outside of the jungle, joined their companion on hedring the reportof his gun. The weather was intolerably sultry. After vainly spending a considerable time in creeping through the grass and bushes, with the hope of discovering the ded that he had passed quite through direction. the lieutenants returned to the elephant and immediately proceeded round the jungle, expecting te discover the route which they conjectured the lion had taken, Captain Woodhouse, however, re- mained in the thicket, and, as he could discern the print of the animal's feet on the ground, he boldly resolved to follow up the track at all hazards. The Indian game-finder, who contin- out to the captain, who fired, but uu- fortunately missed his mark. There was now no alternative left but to retreat and load his rifle, Having retired to a distance, he was joined by Lieutenant Dalamain, who had dis- mounted from bis elephant on hearing the report of the gun. This unexpected meeting Increased the captain's hopes of ultimate success, He lost no time in pointing out to the lieutenant the place where he would probably find the lion, and said he oud be up with him in a moment or WO, . Lieutenant Dalamain, on going eight or ten paces down a sheep track, got a sight of the lion, and instantly dischar- ged his rifie athim. This irritated the mighty lord of the woods, and he rush towards him, breaking through the bushes (to use the captain’s own words) “in most magnifl- cent style,” Captain Woodhouse now found himself placed in an awkward situation. He was aware that if he retraced his staps, in order to place himself in a bet. ter position for attack, he would just get to the point from which the lieuten- ant had fired, and to which the lion was saw him in passing, and flew at him with a dreadful roar, In an instant, as though it had been done by a stroke of lightning, the rifle was broken and thrown out of the cap- tain’s hand, his left arm at the same moment, being seized by the claws, and hus right by the teeth, of his desperate antagonist, While these two brave and sturdy combatants, **whose courage none could stain,” were yet standing in mortal con- flict, Lieutenant Delamain ran up, and discharged his piece full at the lion, This caused the lion and the caplain to come to the ground together, Lieu. tenant Dalamain hastened out of the jungle to reload his gun, The lion now began to crunch notwithstanding the pain which termined resolution to lie stilt, his mouth, and quietly placed himself { in a crouching position, with paws upon the thigh of the fallen foe. While things were in this untoward | situation, the captain unthinkingly, | raised his hand to support his head, { which had got placed ill at ease in the | fail. No sooner, however, had he than the lion seized { arm a second time, crunched it as be- fore, and fractured the arm still higher | up. This additional memento mo i from the lion was not lost upon Captain | Woodhouse; it immediately put him in mind that he had committed an act of imprudence in stirring. The motionless state in which he per- severed after this broad hint showed that he had learned to profit by the | painful lesson. He now lay, i i it, the | bleeding and disabled, der the foot of a mighty and irritated | eneray, Death was close npon him, armed with every terror calculated to | appal the heart of a prostrate and | fenceless man. Just as this world, with all its flitting honors, was on the point of vanishing for ever, he heard | two faint reports of a gun, which he | thought sounded from a distance; but aii dee | them. He learned, arter the affair was over, that the reports were caused by his friend at the outside of the jungie, who DOWNEAST COURTSIIY. How Rachel Came to Marry Jacob The Parrot’s Bpeech. Jacob loved Razhel, but Rache wouldn't have him. Jacob labored on. pressing his suit at intervals, and after win her yet, and convince every ons she cared for him as much as he believed in his heart she did, “Very well,” cried the indignant Ra. chel, with a toss of her head *‘keep right on till you make folks believe that, & The ry you! Jacob did persevere, but with small success, and at last began to lose cour- age. About this time another suitor of Rachel’s arrived home from sea, bring- ing with him, parrot of gorgeous hue which he present ed Rachel, who forthwith had the bird suspended from the sitting room window, whence 8 100K after- when her done, Fora two after his eleva I thie pa among ether exotics, a 10 he looked out HOO WOrk w ) Vid It ' : yrvia de TOV Terainge Hy cast [yy EF Pile A i be quite sure thas the nipples of his | were clean, The two lieutenant mediately hastened to his as ! and he heard the welcome 8 ng, but unfort were in a wrong direction, as was betwixt them and him, Aware that, if his friends fired, the lis would hit him, after they hac nm's body, Ca pronounced, ‘ey VW © annroaach Approaca hi 7 hz the othe: Hearing the voice direction whence it proceeded, and to their horror saw their brave comrade in his utmost need. Having made a circuit tiously came up on the otl glide, an Lieutenant Dalamain, whose coolness in encounters with wild | Lad always been conspicuous, from a dis- tance of about a dozen yards fired at the lion over the person of the prostrate Warrior. The li thay lan) \ s WILY 0 ied “i they cau- Sy 3 i waists wn merely quivered; his the ground, and 3 3? t in y dens his side | 4 * x elo « C000 VO an Dreams and Hiusions. Wundt regards most of sentations as really representations, since they emanate from sensorial im- | pressions which, though weak, continue i during sleep. An inconvenient position | during sleep causes the representation | of painful work, perilous ascent of a mountain, etc. A slight intercostal pain becomes the point of an enemy’s Difficulty in respiration is fearful agony caused by nightmare seeming to bea | rible monster which threatens to stifle | the sleeper. An involuntary extensich | of the foot is a fall from the dizzy height Flying is suggested by the movements of respiration. | Further, “those subjective visual and ! auditory sensations which are represent- | of a tower, | rhythmic led in the waking estate as a luminous | chaos of an obscure visual field, | humming and roaring in the ears, and bave an essential role,” according to | Wundt. **There are shown to us in- | ticolored | there be visions are usually changed into cater | pillars or beetles crawling over the skin | of the sleeper. The sleeper sometimes dreams of his | appearing on the street or in society only half dressed; the innocent cause is earls, flowers, . ete,” the sleeper, a slight hmdrance to respi- ration or interference with the action of the heart, may be the cause of dreams ing able to find it, or has forgotten something in starting upon a journey gest to the sleeper, as previously men- tioned, flying, but this flight may be objective, and instead of himself lying he sees an angel deseanding from the heavens or a luminous chaos where birds are swiftly moving. The representations of dreams hav- ing sensorial origin may have mingled with them those which arise solely from the reproduction of past memories. Thus parents cut off in the flower of life ordinanly appear in dreams because of the profound impression which their death or burial has made, “hence the Sunbral opinion that the dead continue Suring the hight their intercourse with ving. Tincture of eucalyptus has been found by Dr, Sinclair Stevenson to have effec ted the recovery of a woman who was from hereditary leprosy. LB em gravity as : ot of 0; a om a gravity, : ng line of the apt. McDougal ugail, nad Ross, performed killed in on Baltimore. The rom a grapeshot and before the be lifted from struck him in ducing immediate paraly- juickly carried to the rear, a live oak, where he died in a few moments without uttering a The remains of Packenham, af- ter the removal of the viscera, were put in a cask of rum and taken to England, where they rest in St. Paul's Church- vard, London. A handsome monument 1s erected to his memory within the Cathedral. Gen. Gibbs was mortally wounded about the same time, and died led man could + w hird sho 1 bil Lambert, to whom the credit of a skilful retreat in the face of a yic- srious foe, is mainly, if not exclusively, jue—and for which he received the hon. nighthood. The American loss was 8 killed and 13 wounded, not in- n Ty 4 £40054 i 1 { a small number. The British loss, of a total force, on both sides of the offi wounded, A large pro- out retreat. In this connection I cannel omit fn anecdote of Wellington, told to Gen. Quitman by the Earl of Ellesmere, who visited New York in 1853. The Earl He whenever he received a visited him in his private room. had a habit, waving it over his head. Oa a certain occasion the Earl surprised the Duke in one of these curious displays of satisfac. tion, and inquiring, heard to his amaze. ment that the paper which so much ela. ted the conqueror of Napoleon was a simple note of introduction from Gen, Jackson, whom he profoundly admired. Home Life, . It has been said that a single bitter word may disquiet an entire family for . One surly glance casts a gloom over the whole household; while
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