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SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and• Proprietor.
VOLUME XXXI, NUMBER 7.]
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING
Office in Carpet Sall, North-westcorner of
Front and Locust streets.
of Subscription.
Oao Copyperannuna t i f paidin advance,
. •. _ _ if not paid witiiinthi
-al ... withinthree
monthatrom commence
Coatscopy;r.mentorthe year, 200
. .
•
Not übscripsion received fora lean time than zut
months; and no paper will be discontinued unlit all
acrearageaure paid,aulessat the optionalthe pub
ishcr.
11:7 101 oneymaybe , emittedby mail a ithep üblish
ail a risk.
Rates -of Advertising.
'guar eptiaes]one week, *O3B
•.- three weeks. -- ' 75
enclimbsequendasertioll i 10
:..(12.1oesjoneweelr. '5O
three weeks. - 1 00
it enclitulmequenfirmertion. 25
Largertdvertisernent,in proportion
A I iberit I.liscoun i will be made to quarterly,half.
,tariyoriearlyttivertisers,who are stricti)confined
*their nosiness.
DR. HOFFER, '
DENTIST. --OFFICE, Front Street 4th door
from Locust. over Saylor & McDonald's Honk store
Columbia. Pa. 137 - Entrance, same as Jolley's Pho
tograph Gallery. (August 21, 1859.
THOMAS WELSH,
----
JISTICE OF THE PEACE, Columbia, Pa.
OFFICE, in Whipper's New Building, below
Black's Hotel, Front street.
so liTPrompt attention given to all business entrusted
' November 28, 1857.
H. M. NORTH,
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
Columbia-Pa.
Collections 4 romptly made n Lancasterand York
3ounties.
Columbia, May 9,1850.
J. W. FISHER,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
ut,*eptember li, I 'b.50.11
Colum
S. Atlee Betides, D. D. S.
I)RACIICES the Operative, Surgical and hlechan
.1. teal Departments of Dentistry:
OFFICE I.OC EM street. between be Franklin House
and 1'0.4 Mice. Columbia, Pa
May 7. te.so.
TOMATO PILLS.---Extract of Tomatoes; a
cutbunic uud Touic. For nnle nt
J. S. DKLI.HTT & CO'S
Golden Mortar Drug Store.
Dec 3.'59
BROOMS... -100 Doz. Brooms, at Wholesale
or ktetsil. at 11. I'FA HLEWS,
Dec 12, 1e.17. Locust street.
SINE'S Compound of Syrup of Tar, Wild
Cherry anti ihtrhound, for the cure of Coughs,
WlMOpilig Couch. ilroup.&e. Vor side at
eCORKLF & mi.t.grrs
Family Medicine Store, Odd Fellows , Hull
t.t.lober tH, I ri:M.
atent Steam Wash Bolters.
Twell known Bonet, ore kept con•nnotly on
hand at HMNItY I'VAH LEIN,
I.oeuot or reel, opposite the Franklin House.
COW whin, July 18, 1857.
Oats for sale by the bushel or larger quan-
ÜB. V. A 81 . 01.1).
Colt); by
Dec. 25.1859. Canal Denim
JUST in store. n fresh lot of Breitog & l'ronfeld•s
celet.rated Vegeuthle Cuttle Powder. nod for sale by
It- WI 1.1.1 A
Front street, CO.UIIIJI2.
Sept.l7, 1559
Harrison's Conmbian Ink
i. a .uperior article, permanentlt• black,
VP ;laid not eorro.liag the pen, can be had is any
..antsy. 111 the l anuly bledici•tc Store, and blacker
ea 1. that Eaglibli nOOL
Columbia. Jade 9. 1ti159
On Hand.
AIRS.WINSLRW*c.I. t 4 oolhiug Syrup, which will
LU.strea:ly fuculawie the process of teething by re
ducing in llnmittion. ulluying pain. qui-nnodie lICIIO/1,
&C., in very abort time. For *ale by
R. WILLIAMS.
Sept. i7.1e50. Front. .ireel. Columbia.
RE ,
,DDIeNi,O.
popular
C I O'S
e n UdSS y
for 1 11 , Ive
e. L
o T r ili ex l
.Liweut. to How gur 4 :111f, by
R. WILLIAMS. Front at., Columbia.
uept. 24, 1252.
CISTERN PUB 11".
11111Esultacriber i ns u large ' , lock of Cistern Pumps
and Rama. to which he minx the attention of the
pubitc. lie is prepared to put them up for tine in a
sulmtatitiul and enduring manner.
December 12.1&57
Just Received and For Sale,
200 gFunuTlitV;
300 bus. Ground Alum Suit, by
D.P. APPOLD,
No. 1 and 2 Canal lkoin
March 2G, ,5D
GRAIIAM, or, Bond's Boston Craekers, for
Dyspeptics, and Arrow Root Crackera, for in
valids and ebildten—new articles in Columbia, at
the Family Medicine Store, •
April 16, 1859. •
NEW CROP SEEDLESS RAISINS.
THE best for Pies, Pudding, ace.—n .fresh supply at
H SUYDASVS
Grocery Store, Corner Frontand UIIWO sir
Nov. 19. 1859.
Seedless Raisins!
A L at OT of very Ounce Seedlet.s Reittins. jam reeeivet.
S.F. EBERLEIN , S
Nov.lo, .59. Grocery Store, No. 71, Locust et.
SHAKER CORN
JUSIt received, a first rote lot of Ahnker Corn
it. SUYDAM'S
Grocery Store, corner Front and Union rt.
Nov. SB. 1859.
SPILDING'S PREPARED GLUE . —The want of
swab an artirle la feta In every family. and now
it can be supplied; for mending furniture, china.
ware,ornamennil wed:, toys—he.. there is nothing
wi
'nd
superior. We have found it useful in repairing malty
articles which have been useless for monde , . Yea
Jan thin it at the
ba.oinths FMILY MEDICINE STORE
A FIRST-BATE article of Dried Reef, and
-afloat, can be bought at
EBERLEIVS Grocery Stare,
No. 71 Locust curet
March 10,1860,
pROICE TEAS, Black and Green, of differ
ent varieties. A lie.h lot jo.t received at.
EBEIILEIN'a Grocery Store, -
March 10,1E00. No.:1 Locust street.
Ung PURE CITAWBI BRANDY.-.A very
superior and genuine article for medicinal pur
l. S. DELLETT &CO.
acgli.ll;6o. Agents for Columbia.
EILON Am) S'Ealitra I
f~fSubscnbers bare received a New and Large
LT.toek of all kinds and sizes of
BAR IRON AND STEEL 1
They are constantly supplied with stock in this branch
of hts business. and can Janis!, it to customers in large
or small quantities, at the lowest ratan
PL Itc SON.
Loam street below S econd, Colombia, Pa.
Apnl23,
New Goods
•
A Taman proGloire cheaperthan old goods at &action
Opening this day: I ease superior bleached Shirt
ing Doslin—st 10 and 121 cents per yard. 20 pieces
various styles Sheeting Cancer-6.20 pieces ?derrintork
and Cocheco Prints. 23 pieces Pall style Domestic
Gingham, and many other goods in season. new
opening at H. C. PONDERSMITHIP
Cols. /sly 14060. People's Cash Dare.
:.Y IU D: ;'GOO 0,1
7laltors Cana May. Atlaade City. Dednint Sprints.
ete., are invited to examine ear new style traveling
dress goods . before tier lake th eir departure. Oar
Placa are rieas and goods of the best qua
Zane 2nd, Ilk H. C. FONDEMSMITH.
Columbia.
$1 60
"Pray, What do they do at the Springs?.
The question is easy to ask;
natio angwer it fully, my dear,
Were rather a serious task.
And yet, in a beam n ng way,
As the magpie or motkine bird sings,
I'll venture a tin of a song,
To tell what they do at the Springs!
Imprimis, my darling, they drink
The water+ so sparkling and clear,
Though the Savor i 4 none cti the best,
And the odor excePdingly queer;
But the fluid is mingled, you know,
With wholesome medicinal thing•,
So they drink, and they drink, and they drink,
And that's what they do at the Sprint,:
Then with appetites keen as a knife,
They hasten to breakfast or dine;
(The latter precisely at three;
The former from seven to nine.)
Ye gode—what a rustle and ru-h
When the eloquent dinner bell rings!
Then they eat. and they eat, and they eat—
And that's what they do at the Springs!
Now they stroll in the beautiful walks,
Or 101 l in the shade of the trees;
Where many a whisper is heard
That never is told by the breeze:
And hands are commingled with bands,
RegardleSS of conjugal ring•;
And they flirt, and they flirt, nod they flirt—
And what they do at the eprings:
The thawing rooms now are ablaze,
And meow is shrieking away;
Tastrarcitoat governs the hour,
And F . /Limos was never RO goy:
And arm 'round a tapering waist—
How closely and fondly it clings;
So they waltz, and they waltz, and they waltz—
And that's what they do at the Spring,!
In short—as it goes in the world—
They esti, mid they drink, and they sleep;
They talk, and they walk, and they wco;
They sigh, and they laugh, and they weep;
They read. and they ride, and they dance;
(With other unspeakable things;)
They pray, and they play, and they pay—
And that's what they do at the Springs!
HT HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
Between die dark and the daylight.
Whet, the night is beginning to lower,
Cornea a pause in the day% occupation
That is known as the Children's hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a dour that i, opened,
And voice/I.oft and sweet.
Frnm my study I see in the lamplight.
Descending the Woad hall stair,
Grave Alice and laughing Allegra,
Ann Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence;
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They nre plotting end planning together,
To take me by eurpri-e.
A sudden eu-h iron) the at tirway,
A sudden raid (rum the hall,
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my ca,tle wall:
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and buck of my chair
ICI try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine.
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mou.,e-Tower on the Rhine
Do you think - , 0 blua•eyed banditti.
Seemse you have ',Wed :he want
Such an old moustache as? am
In not a match for you all ?
H. PFA H L.F:R,
Locum weft
I hkvc you last In try fortress,
And will not Jet you depart,
But put you clown in die dungeon.,
In the round-tower °tiny heart.
And there will T keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walla shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away:
The General's Match-Making
==!
The soup was not cold nor the curry over
done,lor Miss Pay made het toilette, though
as dainty a one as might he, very speedily,
and the dinner was pleasant enough, with
the General's capital cellar and cuisine in
the long dining-room, with the Jane sun
streamingicithrough ' - bay-vribdows out
of the brilliant:coloritd garden, - and the walls
echoing with the laughter of Sydie and his
cousin, the young lady keeping true to her
avowal of "not oaring for Plato's presence."
"Plato," however, listened quietly, peeling
his peaches with tranquil amusement; for
if the girl talked nonsense—as rare, by the
way, and quite as refreshing, as true wit— I
that tranquil smile, - however, provoked
Fay more than anything else; it was the
smile from which she could make nothing
oat, and which piqued her into more
mechanieie than general. She hated him,
yet she would have liked to rouse him.
"My gloves are safe; you're too afraid of
him, Fay," vihisPitred .Sydie;'bending for
wards to give her some hautboys.
"Am I 1" cried Miss Fay, with a moue of
supreme contempt. Neither the whisper
nor the MOUE escaped Keane, as be talked
with the governor on model drainage.
"Where's my hookah, Fay?" asked the
General, after dessert. "Get it, will you,
my pet?"
"Voila!" cried Miss Fay, lifting the deli
cious narghileTiom the sideboard, and kneel
ing down with it at the General's feet, as
pretty a fairy to wait on one as any of the
Greek girls in attendance on MM. Aristippes,
Alcibiades, Epieuris and Co. Then she
went for alight, set the General going, and,
takirgeonse cigars off the mantelpiece, put
one in her own mouth, struck a fuses, and,
tattry.
Song of the Springs
ET loos O. SAXE
From the Atlantic Monthly
The Children's Hour.
grtlertiono.
"NO ENTERTAtNMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 15, 1860.
handing the case to Keane; said, with a
saucy smile in her soft bright eyes—though,
to tell the truth, she was a little bit afraid
of taking liberties with him—
• "If you are not above such a sublunary
indulgence, Mr. Keane, • will you have a
cigar with me?"
"With the greatest pleasure." said Keane.
with a grave, Chestorfieldian how; "and if
you would like to further rival George Sand,
I shall be very happy to give you the ad
dress of my tailor."
"Thank you exceedingly; but as long as
crinoline is the type of the sex that are a
little lower than the angels, and ribbon•ties
the seal of those but a trifle better than
Mephistophiles, I don't think I will change
it," responded little Fay, contemptuously,
but with the color hot in her cheeks, - never
theless, as she threw herself down on a
couch with an indignant, defiant glance at
Keane, and puffed at her Manilla.
"I hate him, Sydie," said the little lady,
vehemently, that night.
"Do you, dear?" answered the Cantab ;
"then you're an exception to your class.—
Konne's shockingly set on by young women,
but he'll no more fall in love than King's
spires will with Betsy Priggs, the milliner,
opposite 'em. I dare say you don't like
him, little one; you see, you've never bud
anybody to be afraid of, or had coy man
neglect you before."
"He may neglect me if he please—l am
sure I do not care," rejoined Fay, disdain.
fully; "only I do wish, Sytlio, that you had
never brought him hero to make us all un
comfortable."
"fie don't make me uncomfortable—quite
otherwise; nor yet the governor; you're the
only victim, Fay."
Fay saw little enough of Keane for the
next week or two. Ile was out all day with
Sydie trout-fishing—for the river that run
through Calverley was rather famous for its
preserves—or walking over his farms with
the General, giving him many useful coun
sels—for there were few things at which
Keane was not au fait—or sitting in the
study reading, and writing his articles for
the Cambridge Journal, Leonville's Mathe
matical Journal, or the Westminster Review.
But when she was with him, there was no
mischief within her reach that Miss Fay did
not perpetrate. Keane, to teazo her, would
condemn—so seriously that she believed
him—all that she loved the best ; he would
tell her that he admired quiet, domestic
women; that he thought girls should be very
subdued and retiring; that they should work
well, and not care much for society; at all
of which, being her extreme antipodes, little
Fey would be vehemently wrathful. She
would got on her puny without any saddle
in her evening dress, and ride him at the
five•bar gate in the stable-yard; she would
pat on Sydie's smoking cap, and look very
pretty in it, and take a Queen's on the divan
of the smoking-room, reading Bell's Life,
and asking Keane how much be would bet
on the Two Thousand; she would spend all
the morning making wreaths of roses, dress
ing herself and the puppies up in them,
inquiring if it was not a laudable and indus
trious occupation. There was no nonsense
or mischief Fay would not imagine and
forthwith commit, and anything they wanted
her not to do she would do sin aightway,
even to the imperilling of her own life and
limb. She tried hard to irritate ur rouse
"Plato," as she called him, but Plato was not
to be moved, and treated her as a spoilt
child, whom he alone had sense enough to
resist.
"It will be great folly for you to attempt
it, Miss Morton. Those horses are not fit to
be driven by any one, much less by a wo
man," said Keane, quietly, one morning.
They wore en the stable-yard; Sydie was
at a cricket-match, the General was gone
into the house; and Keane and Fay ch "wed
to be alone when a new purchase of the
governor's—two scarcely broken-in thorough
bred colts—were brought with a new phae
ton into the yard, and Miss Fay forthwith
announced her resolution of driving them
around the avenue. The groom that came
with them told her they were almost more
than he could manage; their own crachman
begged and implored ; Keane reasoned
quietly; all to no purpose. The rosebud
had put out its little willful thorns; Keane's
words added fuel to the fire. Up she sprang.
looking the daintiest morsel imaginable
perched up on that very exalted box seat.
told the horrified groom to mount behind,
and started them elf, lifting her hat with a
graceful bow to Keane, who stood watching
the phaeton with his arms folded and his
cigar in his mouth, and an inward solilo
quy, "That little fool will break her neck
some way or other before she has done.-::
I hope she won't smash that phaeton, but 1
expect she will ; there's no teaching her
fear."
With which remembrance, out ofpnre re
gard to the phaeton—which certainly de
served the friendly interest, being as neat a
trap as you need see in the Ring, in May—
Keane started in the contrary direction, for
the avenue circled the Beeches in an oval
of four miles, enclosing the house and the
park in its circumference, and he knew he
should meet her coming back. He strolled
along ander the pleasant shadow of the
great trees, the rooks cawing over his head,
enjoying the sunset and the fresh sir and
his Havana omens temps, and capable of
enjoying them still more but for an inward
misgiving relative to the plunton's panels
and the thorough-breds' knees: Keane was
fond of horses, you know, and in his first
year had dropped a good deal over the
Craven Plate and the October Meeting.—
His presentiment was not withciut its
grounds. He had walked about a mile and
a half round the avenue, when a aloud of
dust told him what was up. and in the dis
tance came the thorough-breds, broke away
as he prophesied, tearing along with the
bits between their teeth, little Fay keeping
gallantly hold of the ribbons, but as power
less over the colts, now they had got their
heads, as the groom leaning over from the
back seat.
On came the phonon, tearing, bumping,
rattling, oscillating, threatening every sec
ond to be turned over. On they came.—
Keane caught one glance of Fay's face, res
olute and pale, find of her little hands grasp
ing the ribbons, till they were cut and
bleeding with the strain, There was noth
ing for it but to stand straight in their path,
catch their heads, and throw them back en
their haunches. Luckily, his muscles were
like iron—luckily, too, the colts had come
a long way, and were not fresh. lie stood
like a rock in their path, and checked them.
running a very close risk of dislocating his
arms with the shock, but saving Little Fay
and the General's new trap from destruc
tion. The colts stood trembling at the sud
den check in their headlong career; the
groom jumped out and caught t reins;
Keane lifted Fay from the box, and amused
himself silently with the mingled penitence.
vexation, shame and rebellion, visible in the
little lady's face.
"Well," said he quietly. "as you were so
desirous of breaking your neck, will you
ever forgive me fur defeatingyour purpose?"
"Pray don't!" cried Fay, passionately.—
"I do thank you so much for saving my life;
I think it so p;enerms and brave of you to
have rescued me at such risk to yourself.—
I feel that I can never be gra. , eful enough
to you. But don't talk in that way. I
know it was silly and self-willed of me."
"It was," said Keane, tranquilly; "that
fact is very obvious."
"Then I shall make it more so," cried Miss
Fay, with her old willfulness. "I do feel
very grateful, and I would tell you so, if
you would let me; but if you think it has
made me afraid, you are quite wrong, and
so you shall see."
And before he could interfere, or do more
than mechanically spring up after her, she
had caught the reins from the groom, and
started the trembling colts off again. But
Keane put his hand on the ribbons.
"Sily child! are you mad?" ho said so
gravely, yet so gently, that Fay let them go,
and let him drive her back to the stable
yard, where she, sprung out, and rushed
away to her own now, terrifying the gover
nor en passant with a few vehement senten
ces, which gave him a vague idea that
Keane was murdered and both Fay's legs
broken, and then had a private cry all to
herself, with her arms sound Snowdrop's
neck, curled up in one of the drawing-rrom
windows, where she had not been long when
the General and Keane came in, not notic
ing her, hidden as she was in curtains, cosh
ions and flowers.
"She's a little willful thing. Keane," the
General was sayinz, "but you inusn't think
the worse of her for that." "The quiet and
sly ones are always the worst, you know."
"I don't," responded Keane. "I like a
woman to have pluck and spirit to think
and act for herself. I infinitely prefer a good
dash of cognac to milk-and-water. I am
sick of those conventional young ladies who
agree with everything one says to them—
who keep all the frowns for mothers and ser
vants, and are as serene as a cloudless sky
abroad, smile blandly on all alike, and
haven't an opinion of their own."
"Fay's plenty of opinions of her own,"
chuckled the General; "and she tells 'em
pretty freely, too. Bless the child! she's
not ashamed of any of her thoughts, and
never will be."
"I hope not. Your little niece can do
things that no other young lady could, and
they are pretty in her, and it would be a
thousand pities for her to grow one atom
less natural and willful. Grapes growing
wild are charming—grapes trained to a
stake are ruined. I assure you, if I were
you, I would not scold her for driving those
colts to-day. High spirits and love of fun
led her on, and the courage and presence of
mind she displayed are too rare among her
sea for us to do right in checking them."
"To be sure, to be sure," assented the
governor, gleefully. "God bless the child!
she's one among a thousand, sir. Cognac,
as you say—not mills-and.water. There's
the dinner bell; confound it!"
Whereat the General made his exit, and
Keane also; and Fay kissed Snowdrop with
even more passionate attachment than or.
divary.
"Ab, Snowdrop, I don't hate him any
more; be is a darling!"
One glowing August morning Keane was
writing in the study—an apartment which
the General had in his house because it was
customary—not for his own use, for he nev
er perused anything but the two Army
Lists and Belli Life—and which, until
Keane occupied it, bore as little resem
blance to the .sanctum sanotorans of your
literary men whose papers mustatxty undis
turbed. at no matter what glorification of
spiders and an anguish of good housemaids,
as can well be imagined. He was ponder
ing whether he would go to his moor or not.
The General had besought him to stay.—
His gamekeeper wrote him that it was a
horribly bad rainy season in Invernembire
and trout and the rabbits were very good
sport in a mild way here. Altogether,
Keane felt half disposed to keep where he
was• He was directing some copy to a
quarterly on M. Comte's "Positivism,"
wherein he had rent that absurd woman
worshiping theory into utter smash, when
a shadow fell across' his paper; he looked
up and saw Fay in the open window and
somehow that English rosebud looked re
freshing after the white paper and the black
ink. But the rosebud soon put out its lit
tle willful thorns; she colored and made a
sign of retreat, but thought better of it, and
leaned 'against the window.
"Is it not one of the open questions, Mr.
Keane, whether it id very wise to spend ull
this glorious morning shut out of the sight
of the sun-rays and the scent of the flowers?"
"How have you been spending it, then?"
"Putting bouquets in all the rooms, clean
ing my aviary, talking to the puppies, and
reading Jocelyn under the limes in the
shrubberies—all very puerile, but all very
pleasant. Perhaps if you descended to a
lazy day like that now and then, you might
be none the worse!"
"Is that a challenge?" said Keane, with
his to her provocative smile. "Will you tuke
me under the Hines?"
"No, indeed !" cried Little Fay, swinging
her felt hat impatiently. "I do not admit
men who despise them to my gardens of
Armidn, any more than you would admit
me into the Eleusinia of your schools. I
have as great a scan for skeptics as you
have for tyros."
"P.irdon me. I have no scorn for tyros.
But you would not coma to the Eleusinia;
you dislike their expounder too much."
Fay looked up at him half-shyly, haltmis
chievously.
"Yes, I do dislike you, when you look
down on me as Richelieu might have looked
down on his kitten."
"Liking to see its play?" said Keane,
lisif sadly. "Contrasting its gay insouci
ance with his own toil and turmoil, regret
tin;, perhaps, the time when trifle.; made
his joy as they did his kitten's. If I were
to look on you so there would not be much
to offend you."
Fay was silent; she looked delighted, but
she was still wayward.
"You do not think so of me, or you would
speak to me as if I were an intelligent being,
not a silly little thing as you think me."
"flow do you know I think you silly?"
smiled Keane.
"Because you think all W 0121012 so."
"Perhaps; but then you should rather try
to redeem me from my error in doctrine.—
Come, let us sign a treaty of peace. Take
me under the limes. I want some fresh air
after writing all day; and in payment I will
teach you Euclid, as you vainly beseeched
your cousin to do yesterday."
"Will you?" cried Fay, eagerly. Then
she threw back her head. "I never am won
by bribes."
"Nor yet by threats? What a difficult
young lady you are? Come, show me your
shrubbery sanctum, now you have invaded
mire."
The wild little filly came round under
Rarey's hand and eye. The English rose
bud laid aside its willful thorns, and Fay, a
little less afraid of her Plato, and therefore
a little less defiant to him, led him over the
grounds, filled his hands with flowers, show
ed him her aviary, read same of Jocelyn to
him, to show him, she said, that Lamartine
was better than the CElipus in Caloneus,
and thought, as she dressed for dinner, "lie
was kinder to-day. I wonder if he does
despise me—he has such a beautiful face,
if he were not so haughty and cold!"
The neat day Keane gave her an hour of
Euclid in the study. Certainly the Coach
had never had such a pretty pupil; and he
wished every dull head he had to cram was
as intelligent as the fair haired one. Fay
was quick and clever; she was stimulated,
moreover, by his decree concerning the stu
pidity of all women; she really worked as
hard as any young man studying for degrees
when they supposed her fast asleep in bed,
and she got over the Pons Asinorum in a
style that fairly astonished her tutor.
The Coach did not dislike his occupation,
either; it did him good, after his life of stern
solitude and study, something as the kitten
and cork did Richelieu good after his cabi-
nets and councils; and Little Fay, with her
flowers and fun, mischief and impudence,
and that winning willfulness which it
amused him gradually to tame down, un
bent the cold hauteur which had grown upon
him. lie was the better for it, as a man
after hard study or practice is the better for
some fresh sea-breezes, and souse days of
careless dolce.
"Well, Fay, have you had another poor
devil flinging himself at your feet by means
of a postage-stamp?" said Sydie one morn
ing at breakfast. "You needn't color, my
love; you can't disguise anything from me,
your most interested, anxious, and nelr and
dear relative. Whenever thegovernor looks
particularly stormy I see the signs of the
times that if I do not forthwith remove your
dangerously attractive person, all the bricks,
epooneys, swells, and do-nothings in the
county will speedily 511 the Hanwell wards
to overflowing."
"Don's talk such nonsense, Sydie," said
Fay, impatiently, with a glance at Keane,
as she banded him his chocolate.
"Ahl devil take the fellows," chuckled
the General. "Love, devotion, admiratind
What a lot of stuff they do write! I wonder
if Fay were is little beggar, bow much of it
$1,60 PEB, YEAR EN ADVANCE; $2,0 A : . •
all would stand the test? But we know .
a trick worth two of that. Try those
sardines, Keane. Rouse is let, Fay—eh ?
Rouse is let;, nobody need apply. Ha,
ha l"
And the General partook of some more
curry, laughing till he was purple, while
Fay blushed scarlet, a trick of which she
was rarely guilty. Sydie smiled, and
Keane picked out his sardines with calm
deliberation.
"Hallo! bless my soul 1" buret forth the
General again. "Devil take me? I'll be
hanged if I stand it! Confound!em all I I
do call it hard for a man not to be able to
sit at his breakfast in peace. Good Heavens!
what will come to the country, if those little
devils grow up to be food for Calcraft 1—
fle's actually pulling the bark off the trees,
as I live 1 Excuse me, I can't sit still and
see it."
Wherewith the General bolted from his
chair, darted through the window, upsetting
three dogs, two kittens, and a stand of
Hewers, in his exit, and bolted breathlessly
across the park with the poker in his hand,
and as many anathemas as the Pope's late
amiable and Christian curse of excommuni
cation towards a small b3l trespassing in
the far distance.
"Bless his old heart! Ain't he s brick?"
shouted Sydio. "I never came across a prime
one like him. Just to hear him, wouldn't
you think him as hard as a proctor? and yet
the sweet old thing's as mild as milk at the
core."
"Yes," laughed Keane. "The cocoa-nuts
hardest to crack have always the best ker
nel, and your velvet and yielding peach has
a very nasty stone au fond."
"True for you," said Sydie. "Da excuse
me, Fay; I must go and hear him blow up
that boy sky-high; and give him a shilling
for tuck afterwards; it will be so rich."
The Caotab made his exit, and Fay
busied herself calming the kittens' minds
and restoring the dethroned geraniums.—
Keane read his Times for ten minutes, then
looked up.
"Miss Morton, whore is your tongue? I
have not heard it for a quarter of an hour—
a miracle that has never happened in the
two months I have been at the Beeches."
"You do not want to hear it," said Fay,
settling the cat's collar.
"What! am I in reauvaise °deur again?"
smiled Keane. "I thought we were good
friends. Rave you found the Q. E. D. to
the problem I gave you ?"
"Vous Terre; Monsieur Plato," cried Fay,
exultantly. And kneeling down by him, she
went through the whole thing in exceeding
triumph.
"You are a good child," said her tutor,
smiling, in himself amazed at this little
volatile thing's capacity for mathematics.
"I think ynu will be able to take your de
gree, if you like. Come, do you hate me
now, Fay?"
"No," said Fay, energetically. "I never
hated you; I always admired you; but I was
afraid of you, though 1 would never confess
it to Sydie."
"Never be afrnid of me," said Keane put-
ting his hand on hers as it lay on the arm
of his chair. "You have no cause. You can
do things few girls can; but they are pretty
in you, whore they might be—not so pretty
in others. /like them at the least. You
are very fond cf your cousin, are you
not?" said Keane, changing the subject
abruptly.
"Of Sydie! Oh, I love him dearly!"
Keane took his hand away, and arose, as
the General trotted in.
"Bless me, Keane, how warm it is!—
Confoundedly hot without one's hat, I can
tell you. [lnd my walk all for nothing,
too. That cursed little idiot wasn't tres
passing after all. Stephen had sent him to
spud out the daisies, and I'd thrashed the
boy before I'd listen to him. Devil take
him !"
Ir.-TICE PITILOSOPLIBR WALKS OCT Or PLA-
TONISII INTO PASSION.
August went out and September came in,
and Keane stayed at the Beeches to knock
over the birds in the St. Creels turnips—
Ile was a capital shot. His severe studies
had never lessened his love for, or his skill
in, the open and the hunting field. Sydie
shot well, too; and the dear old governor
was never happier than when on his shoot
ing pony, on which he always eat as bolt
upright and motionless as the marble riders
on our uncomfortable and ludicrous public
statues, whose feelings seem as if they were
diverted between a desire to peep over at
the crossings below, and an endeavor to hold
on hard to their pedestals. They were
pleasant days to them all, knocking over the
partridges right and left, enjoying a cold
luncheon and a rum-punch under the luxu
riant hedges, and going home to the Beeches
for a dinner, full of laughter, and talk, and
good cookery; and Fay's songs afterward,
as wild and sweet, in their way, as a gold.
finch's on a hawthorn spray.
"You like little Fay, don't you, Keane?"
said the General, as they went home one
evening.
Reansloolted startled for a second.
"Of course he said, rather haughtily.
"That Miss Horton is very charming, every
one must admit."
'Bless her little heart I She's a wild little
filly, Keane; but she'll go better and truer
than your quiet broken-in ones,' who bear
the harness so respectably, and are so wick
ed and vicious in their own minds. And
what do you think of my boy ?" asked the
[WHOLE NUMBER 1,569.
General, pointing" to Sydie, who was in
front. "flow does he stead at Cambridge?"
"Sydie? 06, he's a nice young felloW.—
II s'amnse, of coarse; but he is none the
worse for that. I was extravagant and wild
enough at his age. He is a great - favorite
there, and be is—the best thing he can be--:-
generous, plucky, sweet-tempered, and
honorable—"
"To be sure," echoed the General, rib-
bing his hands. "He's a dear boy—a very
dear boy. They're both uf 'em -exactly all I
wished them to be, dear children; and I
must say I am delighted to see 'em carrying
out the plan I had always made for 'em from
their childhood."
"Being what, General, :any I ask?"
"Why, any one can see, as plain as -a
pike-staff, that they are in love with each
other," said the General, glowing with
satisfaction; "and I mean them to be mar
ried and happy. Their youth shan't be
spoiled, as mine was. Ah! well, well I
that's all over now. But you know, Keane,
I always knew they were out out for ono
another. Wasn't such a blind old bat as
not to see that. They dote on each other,
Keane, and I shan't put any obstacles in
their way. •Youth's short enough, Heaven
knows; let 'ern enjoy it, say I; it don't come
back again. Don't say anything to him
about it; I want to have some fun with him.
They've settled it all, of course, long ago;
but he hasn't confided in me, the sly dog.
Trust an old campaigner, though, for twig
ging an affairs du co3ur. I mean to give
'em this place, and take a shooting-box.—
What do I want with a great house, and •
nobody in it? Bless them bothl they make
me feel a boy again. We'll have a gay
wedding, Keane; mind you come down for
it. I dare say it'll be at Christmas. There's
Fay on the terrace, looking out for Sydie,
of course; silly child I"
Keane walked along, drawing his cap over
his eyes. The sun was setting full in his
face.
"Well, Monsieur Plato, what sport?" cried
Fay, running up to him.
"Pretty fair," said Keane, coldly, as he
passed her, went into the house, and up to
his own bed•room.
It was an hour before the dinner-bell
rang. Then ho came down stairs with that
grave, chill hauteur of expression which
had made Pay afraid of him, but which had
entirely thawed of late to her, for, ha had
petted her and been as gentle to her as was
possible since he had taught her Euclid.—
To-night he was cold and calm,, pertioularly
brilliant in conversation, snore courteous,
perhaps, to hoe than ever, but-the frosthad
gathered round him that the sunny atmos-j
phere of the Beeches had melted; and Pay,
though she tried to teazo, and to coils,. and
to win him, could not dissipate it. She
felt him no immeasurable distance from bet
again. He was a learned, haughty, fastidf
one philosopher, and she a little naughty
child.
As Keane wont up stairs thatnight, after
playing ecarte with the Genera], he heard
Sydie talking to Foy in the hall. '
"Yes, my worshiped Fay, I shall be in
tensely and utterly miserable away from the
light of your eyes; but nevertheless, I must
go and see Kingslake from John's next
Tuesday, because I've promised; and let
one idolize your divine self ever so much,
one can't give up one's larks, you know."
Keane ground his teeth with a bitter sigh
and a fierce oath.
"Little Fay, I would have loved you more
tenderly than that!"
Ile went in and threw himself on his bed
—not to sleep. For the first time for many
years he could not summon sleep at hii will.
He had gone on potting her and amusing
himself, thinking of her only as a winning,
wayward child. Now he woke witha shock
to discover, too late, that she had stolen
from him unawares the heart ho had so long
refused to any woman. With his high in
tellect and calm philosophy, after hie years
spent in severe science and cold solitude,
the hot well-springs of passion had broken
loose again. Ile longed to take her bright
life into his own grave and cheerless one;
he longed to feel her warm young heart
beat with his own, leo-bound for so many
years; but Little Fey was never to be his.
In the bedroom next to him the General
sat, with his feet in his slippers and his
dressing-gown round him, smoking his last
cheroot before a roaring fire, chuckling com
placently over his own thoughts,
'•To be sure we'll have a very gay wed
ding, such as the county hasn't seen Wall
its blessed days," he muttered, with su
preme satisfaction. "Sydie shall have this
place. What do I want with a great town
of a house like this, big enough forslinr
rack? I'll take that shooting-box' Murillo
let four miles off; that'll be plenty ;large
enough for me and my old chums to Smoke
in and chat over by-gone times, and
do our hearts good—freshen us up a -bikto
see those young things enjoying thinerselvele
My youth was spoilt, but theirs' 'Ohara te,
if I can help it. Poor, dear Mary! What
an old woman she'd have been now. Well,
well, it's no good' looking back; it - won't
alter things. I Gee for that boy and girl
now. God blests'eni 1 they make oneyoung
again. My Little Fay will be the prettiest
bride that ever was seen. young
things to suppose I don't see through thorn.
Trust an old soldier! llotiever, love is
blind, they say. There's not a doubt
they're mad about one inoilfer—aota.doubt
about it—and they shall be married at
Christmas. Sow could they have lighted