OFFICE-8013IIIIFEBT CORNEA or CENTRE SQUARE. iportrv. -- - THE 111.1li1IT OF THE h ells 111 - ALIGN CARKY. LFISI 1111;111 1 Sla beslde the pane And heard across the mist 01 ruin A weld blrd'ii twitter low, And thought 1111 w soon the leafy nests, Now warm with 111 I le speck led-hrew.t Would bo tilled full Id noose. I HaW the withered wet kayos fall, And cried, tßal slileld and HIV, yi. all Itlaelc told and bola And all yit trlho of nolmy lifing4, Wilk linings on your 1,111•/1 giußn Bull as the lhlntl , n lillll.ll. And ye NVILII I.op-k Dols on your hewls ILI A crimson grains or mende red, nd dwindles so wild d 14.111; (id said, In Mudded. elite, Melding yo drill along tile air hike some bright housed cloud. And ye In gray and russet MllitA, And ye wily mines all In aides Alaan, your needs usillno; \‘'llen April nt•1113,1111.1 . 1111111. tor flow, 'l.lllOl Ilia darkened clsilsies I lirnngi , felsll ye, darlings mine! And ye with unpfel, tender throat , . And ye with while /led Sillv , . cent . , A nd ye that hold in seem Holt nittyle, and while Sommer glehee , NIL by your denhleh In the SI Snapping )ent . bills of her, 11• I vvlistl will illy II N. 1,141111. I .111111,1111 lorl and 11.141 yl' 11i Nor cm, Illy 111.141. In til'rlloil 1.,141 1111. 111011 peril r.' , " A hove I 11.1..•ilt•imo,111e.Rs nihiril, '1 hail •. it wulll 1 lill4 v 1.1,•.••" ' l ' llt • rer4o . e, I- prny, and 1,1111111 111 . 11. V. I.oortl keep, awl 1,11,, 111,11 w 11 1 •11 ~111111• ‘OIII nhluitig train, leroldon . cl ,vlllll..ttves And 1,11111,111 i, 1111.1111•111•1 1 11111 , 1 , ,V1•1 I, :\llll yo•limv 61 (n 111111 I'.llll. VI'S 1,01114 //VIII hark I lir `.•.1 111 I . IIIIIIInIIII4IINi , Iv 11111 •nnl n, Till . grwill, 11.• grity, I ht• guy Atlll, II 'Flty will 11 1,, 1111,l'IVI•.11111 , 11101'1' Qli• The ght,l it”.l glorhoi, elny. flaiscellaticatts, The Three Charms John, why do you always wear lhose three charms'."' I asked, leaning [melt hi Illy luxurious 11411'1011g-chair, and lid( lug a dellherale survey it my .hoin m(wkai. said, With the rising hilleetion, toying, 11.1.1 111' /111/11,1', Wll.ll curious golden key, an enamelled heart and a tiny hand, whose thumb and firs( linger elitsped it pure round peat!— " these? till, for good 11111: 'These• are lily amulets, any talismans. I could nol do without them." " NI/1141'1HW. 1111111 1" I answered, I:nurklog the usher from my cigar tutu It quaint, bronze tray that, this same Olen(' had brought Hll' I'l,llll I'mulpeil. " I 11.11VISU you to nutlie them over to your youngest The• baubles are pretty enough. ltilt have not you and I outlived the age orgewgaws . ."' " IL) you think no lie rejoined, " Iful. I tell you these are not gewgaws. These have certain magma' properties of their awn. were 01111,1111011 111404 - borc)re the 111.1n1 It. inny 11r \VIII.II, 118 erode metals, they were hidden ill the bowels (.1' the earth, 101111 111111i:410N 11i good to Me." " thereby hangs it I said, " 111111 This IS the very time 11l 101 l il. YOU 1111 not care to hem' N 11881,11 this gusty, rainy night, and !tooth will keep. \Ve will hay() "(lie Tale (Jr the Talismans,' or, 'The Story of the i\ [ugly 'harms,' instead." y friend laughed. " llu you really want to Imo' it': Phil, 111,114 11119 carries hael: to the old (lays when you and Nil.l 111111 111/111' 1 1 1 (,H1 \VH9IIII 11S011 111 leu9l' 1110 I . ol' stories !" . . "In your uneltos big lean I 11:tve luty-inow for you John. Al Ned is a le:i•iiiereluoit. In Cltiun; all TOM' iN nude' . the sod. !tut Inwhi lor den iii inine is a vozy 1111111, and iv will nuil:e the most 111 . it while you Ie your story In (me listener instead I 1 liree" No I brought forth the dressing-gnu' and slippers, heaped noire coal elm Mu grate, drew the eiirtitins close Wheeled Cho arin-chairs nearer to II liru and then, While the Wind W Ist li Nylllll,lll, and the Wild rain beat again Ihe window-palies. I listened to N Molt ISoN'S STiiity. Thetas! yeara my eonsulate at 1 tem Was illeXpressilily tedious. I had grow trod of I taly ired of its Splendid it coy, or its magnificent ruins ; its the gray with age, :Lod peopled with the ghosts of the departed; of its galleries, dark with the shadows of ,:ootori,s ; tired or famous siatoes, headless or arm less, as the cam) might be; of worht-ro- Howiled pirturea, which one could hard ly see fur the gal. tired dust of years-- tired, even, or its blue skies and riotous verdure. I had grown weary of the per sistent presence of the pale, dead, boot. less past, and yearned to feel again tin pulses of the living present. I yearned or our fresh, free, vigorous Western life —our new civilization, rough and crude in some of its aspects, prosaic and prac tical rather Until ideal; yet strong, ' sturdy, progressive, honest. I Was tired of "whited sepulchres," grand anti beau tiful to look upon, yet within—l spare you the rest of the quotation. My successor came at last. I had handed over to hint the key of the Miley, and all importaot papers and docu ments. My , Welts were packed, and my passage taken in the steamer for Nice. On Wednesday I should be ofr, itlitl I devoted Tuesday to a last, long ramble through the streets and environs of "Genova la Superba." Genoa the proud, Genoa the superb! Probably because" blessings brighten as they take th( ir flight," she never seemed to Me to sit so proudly on her throne by the sea, to curry herself so superbly, as she did that day. From morning till night I walked outhouse(' as One itt a dream, and at sunset found myself at the western pier, the Mulo Nuevo, at the foot of the great light house of Louis X 11. As I stood there, the revolving, flashing light streamed out across the bay, and I knew that mariners thirty miles off sang ayes to the Virgin as they hailed its beams. I ascended the tour for one last look at the beautiful city, and to watch the shadows its they deepened and darkened over the sea ;then come down and drovc a bargain with an extortioner in tht shape of a twaltnan, who demanded thrice what the law allowed him for taking me link to my lodgings. While I waited .for hint to make ready, my c eye was aught by something glittering upon the dock, just in the edge of the strong red rays that streamed from the light-house tower. It was this little gold key, dropped, doubtless, by some one of the throng of travellers who visit the light-house. It was quaint tool curious, odd its design and workmanship, but not intrinsically . valuable. To lied its owner would be harder than the proverbial search for the needle in the haystack. So, as a illenietito of that last night. in (kilos, 1 fastened the bauble to toy watch-chafe and thought no more about it. That, is, I titought no more about it until the next day, when I sat upon Lite deck of the steamer that Was speeding On its way toward Nice. 'Then it at - tracted toy attention again, and I ex amined it more closely. Look at it. Yoll perceive that the body of the key , —the handle, so tospeak—is in the form of an ancient harp, and of convenient size, not smallerthan tut ordinary watelt key. ISM the key proper, the part fit ted to the wards oft he lock . , is of almost ionnitesimal proportions. It was c o l toy. Strongly made and exquisitely linished, the tiny thing was evidently designed for use rather 111511 'ornament. To whom did it belong? What lair hand had held it? (hoer what • treasore had it kept gourd ? and whom had it now treacherously deserted ? Thus I mused and questioned as the hours wore on. We read of the " depravity of inani mate things." ISM, if you will suggest the word that is the exact opposite of depravity, I will apply it forthwith to this little key of none. Three times before I reached America the Fates tried to rob me of it, and thriee4t restored itself, or was restored to me: &bee in Paris, mice iu London, and once in Queenstown. I began at last to have almost a superstitious feeling as to this waif that fell at toy feet as I left Genoa, and to feel that iu some way my Inter ests or happiness were connected with it. At all events, the last time it es caped me, I went into a jeweler's shop, procured a strong split ring, and fasten ed It securely to my watch-guard. The first person whom 1 saw when we landed at New York was Lawrence Peverly. You remember Lawrence? That tall, splendid, hazel-eyed fellow who was in the class below us iu col lege. He was stroke-oar in the Univer . city boat, , and took one of the honors when he :graduated._ You don't recall him? Well, it's no matter. He was a promising young lawyer at that time, itaittixtet VOLUME 72 and was engaged to my sister Jule. He died last year, poor fellow ! But he rushed up to me that morning in the old, Impulsive way, eagiq to be con gratulated, for the engagement was yet in its blissful infancy. t was in July, and the city was ter ribly hot. They were all ut Newport, he said, my mother, Jule, and the little boys, and the house in West Fourteenth Si reet was shut up. He was going up himself by the night-boat, to stay over Sunday, and my mother had given him strict orders not to allow me to remain in town fur a single night. " Partly on account of the heat, and • mostly because f:lie is in a hurry to see her son, I reckon," he said laughing.— " But will you go up with me this eve thing Vollroe, I assented. If my house moo gods had flown to Newport, there WitS nothing for time to do but follow after. So we went. 111 y mother—you remember her, I'llll, and will pardon me if I digress a little Here—wan a stately, gentle lady of the old school, who was in the world, and yet not of it, She was above fashion, while yet she did not ignore nor con demn it. Living in her own cottage with her own servants, the current of guy life !lowed on around her, come tillleS ftmusing, lull seldom disturbing her. She saw as much of it, oras:tittio, :1.4 she chose. But the choicest spirits of that choke place recognized Mill clustered ;Wont her; and, sooner or later . , one was sure to see in her small draw ing-romn till who were best worth see ing ()I' the notabilities gathered there. The collage wa, small, as all those ,411111111er 111,10 :Ire, and the members or Lite nullity already established there tilled it lo(rverilnwing. 1 took up lily abode at the nearest hotel, and came 11111 went at toy own I.lel4` , llre. 11101111 g I lIV frrldulu of the house at all hours. Lawrence mode rroonont runs bark told rortit, to the unfeigned delight or his /in,,.; and, at last, when the August heats grew intense, and the city was praet teal ly deserted, rune to us for the rest or tile ~.ototon. t.ed not ill you of the golden days that followed. You know the subtle charm that invests Newport, the spell that It casts over all wh() are on.a) drawn within its rirnle. Suffice it to say that we were a happy, merry ;tarty,, enjoy ing everything Irons the "incessant sob bing of the sea," the wide, wide sweep of the ocean-waves ' the intense blue of thesky, the glory oistarlit nighLs, down In the splendid equipages and gayly dressed people upon the nVelllle. (tit' morning ILS I sat with my mother In her little dressing-root», one window of which overlooked the bay, .1 tile Vann' In 111/111 ii call 11111111 some 111.11111 e lit the (Wean I louse. 11 W h at do you t id i d i, ffittinnia ?Of she Saki. "‘VIIO do you suppose has en gaged rooms over yonder?" " 1 /1111 sure I cannot tell," was the answer, "unless It. may be the king of the I 'amilhal Islands, or his royal high ness the Prince of Tinibuctoo. All the rest are h e r, now. " "!lit, you know, ' Salto came tiller r" I remarked, as I relinquished my seal I)) "and viol Is not yet. Who is il, little one " IL is mamma's old friend, t:olonel Temple , " stun' sold " rooms are be spoken for Colonel Eugene Temple, his wife and daughter, and they are expect ed to-night.—That Is the name, is it not, mamma? I :nu not mistaken f' " Eugene Temple was my old friend's name," she answered, "and this is pro bably the man. But he must get Ids title by hereditary claim, for he has never been in the army. His father and grandfather were both homt-fhb volonels,however,one in the War of ISI•2, ittill the other In the Revolution, and, the chief or the elan having so long borne that title, it probably descends to him by vourtesy. I shall be glad to see them." " \Vltykhave 51'1 , never Mel, if Colouel Temple is so old a friend I asked. Ile has been abroad for some years," was the reply—" connected with some foreign enillassy. Ile came home Mann Iwo years sinee I believe; but his wife . semi-Invalid, and they have re ' mained Imielly at their country-seal somewhere in Pennsylvania ever Hi nee. One loses track or one's early friends as the years go by " and a slight shadow swept over lily mother's gentle lace lr she spoke. Of course, atter this (quivers:thou was on the watch for the newcomers. I had some shrewd suspicious—increas. ed by sundry other words that wen dropped that day—that there had beet some love-passages between my mother find Colonel Temple in theiryoung days and I felt a little natural curiosity :thou the man who, had the Fates been pro pitions, might have been my lather So, when I went down to breakfast tin next morning, I earnestly scanned al the new faces. Ilut there were only two or three young dandies,"fresh from it road way and faultlessly attired ; a pair of newly-wedded lovers, whose brows were perceptibly crowned with the soft radiance of the honey-moon ; and one old lady, in black silk and spectacles. The party for whom I looked had ap arently not arrived, and I proceeded to break my eggs with great composure. lint presently there was a slight stir at the door, and the steward, with even more than his usual cmpres.,,,wat, rushed forward, bowed, smiled, and waved to their seats two persons whom I knew at once to be Colonel Temple and his daughter. The invalid wife breakfasted in her own apartment. Their seats were just below me, on the opposite side of the table.. A hand some, dignified, gray-haired gentleman, with decidedly th4air noble. He look ed worthy to be, or to have been, the friend of my noble mother ; and having always been fond of the companionship of elderly men, I at mice resolved that he should be the friend of her son. As for the young lady who sat so uncon sciously beside him, now sipping her coffee, and now looking quietly off over the bay to the far horizon, Where two or three sails hovered like great, sea-gulls, it was not so easy to mak. , up one's mind. She was apparently about twenty ; a tall, pale girl, with brown hair mud eyes, and a mouth that was at once strangely 111.111 and strangelysweet. Her hair rippled hack over small, shell ke ears, and was fastened in one large coil, and she wore a plain white mourn ing -dress, with a little frill of soft lace at the throat. 1 ler only ornament was a heart-shaped locket of blue enamel on aground of gold, suspended from a black ribbon. She remained at the table but a few moments, and then, speaking to her father in a lox tone while he smiled and nodded, she quietly left the room. Beautiful? \Veil, no. Ned in the or dinary acceptation of the word. Not beautiful in the sense that my sister Jule was beautiful. Jule was all glow and light and color; her hair was woven gold that really glittered in the sunlight; her complexion was the purest, softest blending of . snow and carmine; and her eyes had the deep, unfathomable blue of the June heavens. People raved about her—went wild over her; and as for Lawrence, he thought hat's blessed angels could not be so fair. 11111 it wits chielly color after all, and her sweet, child-like, bewitching ways. Margaret Temple wax cast in un en tirely di trerent mould. Ni, two women could have been more utterly unlike. In moments of repose she had abso lutely no color, and her eyes were shad owed eyes, that only shone when the soul looked out of them. She had none of the airs and graces, the unconscious hind-like plumage thatsat so charming ly upon Jule. Yet she had a simple, quiet, womanly grace of her own, and a gentle dignity that never forsook her. The beauty of her face lay in its expres sion, and that varied with her every mood. One never knew what to expect for she was never twice alike. Ordina rily quiet and calm, under the influence of some high thought or earnest feeling,. under the spell of music, the power of eloquent words, written or spoken, her whole being would kindle, her great dark eyes light up, her cheeks crimson, her lips grow tremulous, until she stood before you crowned with all the majes tic beauty of a sibyl. I have seen her when I thought her the most glorious, beautiful woman I had ever beheld. You smile, Phil, anticipating my story. But, of course, you know what I have no intention of denying, that as the long, bright Summer days went on, and we were thrown together in the close companionship that grew out of the old family intimacy, I learned to love this "rare, pale Margaret," as I could never hope to love again. I was thirty years old, and I had out lived, or outgrown, much of my old boy ish romance. But this was something stronger, better, holier than romance— something that whether it brought:me joy or sorrow, I could never regret. It was of infinite worth to one's manhood to have known and loved such a woman as Margaret Temple, even if one loved vainly. But did I love vainly ? I could not tell. I did not " wear my heart upon my sleeve," that the gossips might peck at it. Neither did she so. ear hers. Yet I soon discovered that she was not one of those women who claim every man as a lover, and regard every act or word of friendship as an indication of a warmer feeling lying perdu. She held at its right valuation all the persiflage and small talk of society; and its com pliments and honeyed phrases swayed her no more than the idle blowing of the wind. Whatever man would woo her must dare his fate bravely, and say " I love you," with no uncertain sound. I felt all this, yet knew that the " ful ness of time" had not yet come. It was not yet time for me to speak, or to disturb the maiden calm that did not tremble at my approach. Early one morning we four, Julia and Lawrence, Miss Temple and myself, took a little boat and sailed off over the bay for old Fort Louis. How beautiful it all wits—the wonderful coloring of sea and sky, the far amethystine hills, the changing shadows, the light, the glow, the sparkle, the phantom-ships in the distance, the fishing-boats that. danced near by--how beautiful were all these need not tell you, for you have seen them. At length we reached the ruined tower, which Nature has so taken to her heart again, and climbed the high rocks and the crumbling parapet. Above us, is we Stood upon the lofty height, hung the wide blue heavens; below us stretch ed the wide blue sea. Around us sea- birds soared and swept; below us wh ite winged schooners passed exultantly, hosts of smaller boats plied to tual fro • and in the distance three large Effi2=l=l=M tap for the ftirthest I tol. length Miss Temple brought forth, Hume unknown receptacle, a nil sketch-book. "Mercy"' cried Jule, gazing about r with wide eyes, "yon are not going put :ill this bitof paper six inches " Not, I," was the laughing answer. " I.' thy servant (C—dunce—'that she should (I() this thing.'' But, if you don't object, I )should like to get that little rocky inlet yonder, With the boy in the lisle lug-bout, and the lonely sea gull hovering overhead." Jule nestled on the grass beside her friend for h few moments, watching the rapid stroke ot' the pencil. "HOW cal you do it ?" she said at length, rising and re-adjusting her hat. "'('hat boy looks as if he Was alive al ready. Come Lawrence, let us go down and try our luck Itching." And the lovers strolled oll' together. I threw myself upon the turf at Miss Temple's feet, while she went silently on with her work. I was utterly con tent that morning. Speech seemed Idle and useless. It, WWI enough to be near her that golden sunshine, that enchanted solitude, in which the world seemed SO near and yet so remote. At length a sudden flaw of whul Itfted the broad !who of her hat, and sent it sailing to the ground. As she stooped to recover it, I raised myself for the sumo purpose, and one long, loose tress of her brown hair fell acro-s:my breast, entangling itsel f In the little I ienoan key that still hung from my watch-guard. Laughing a little, while a soft rose-tint crept over the cheek that Was so near my own, she strove to disengage herself Ibut presently she said : " I am a close prisoner, Mr. .Morison —bound in chains. I think you will have to cut off the recreant lock that has so betrayed its trust." " It is not necessary to use such ex treme measures," I replied. " Let me try any skill. 1 think I can set you free." ler soft hair fell over my hand ; her ru breath fanned my cheek ; the ,r of violets, that always homy about her, tilled the air with a faint perfume. . 4 11 e was so near me that I could hate clasped her to iny heart with scarce a change in our relative positions. If 1 could but have hula her tints a prisoner forever.' tut her fluttering color warned Inv to in expeditious; and, after a moment's vain attempt to loosen the hair, I said : • "I f you will besti II for another second, can remove the key front the split ring that holds it, and you can disentangle it at your leisure." It was but the work of an instant, and then,' with the key swinging front the brown masses of her hair, she sat down to remove it with lingers that • I could but perceive were unwontedly tremu lous. Suddenly a low cry escaped her. " Mr. Morison," she said, looking up excitedly, "what key is this? Where did you get it 'I" " Whose it is, or what it is, are ques tions I cannot answer," I replied. "But I found it in ( ienoa, just at the foot of the great light-house on the western pier. It is au odd little thing, isn't it ?" She examined it curiously, with an eager haste that surprised me. " It is the strangest thing I ever heard of," she said, looking at me with an air of vague bewilderment. " Mr. Morison, that is my key. I lost it on the wharf, or dock, at Liverpool, two years ago." " It is hardly possible," I answered. "There must be two—" " But it is possible. See here!" and, slipping aside a little golden band, she showed me the initials of her name, M. T., engraved in minute characters. "And it unlocks this." She took the enamelled locket from . _ her neck, inserted the key, and the heart-shaped thing flew open, revealing yu all pictures of her father and mother on either side. There they are, Phil, the key and the heart! You can see for yourself their delicate workmanship. I wasstruck thrill) with astonishment ; and Miss Temple seemed no less so, us she sat there gazing alternately at the key and the heart, and now and then casting a puzzled glance at toe. At length she said : " Are you sure you foumlitin Genoa? Wasn't it in Liverpool, Mr. Morison " Are you sure you lost it in Liver pool? Was it not in ( lenoa, Miss 'Fein ple'."' was my response; and we both laugheil merrily. Somehew this ,trange Coincidence seemed a new tie between. " Let us try to account for this thing on philosophical principles," I said, at last. "If you lost the key in Liverpool and I found it in I lenoa, how did it get to Genoa the question." " Fairies," she answered, " witches, spirits." Favoring breezes, sails anti sailors, more likely," I rejoined. " Miss Tem ple, were there any Italian vessels in the harbor that day ?" She thought a moment, then looked up with a quick smile. " I believe you have really solved the mystery, Mr. Morrison. An Italian mer chantman was taking in lading just be low us; and 1 remember noticing one remarkably handsome sailor who looked as if he might have stepped bodily out of one of the old pictures I saw in \'e nice." " That tells the whole story," I an swered. " You dropped the key, the handsome sailor found it. lie, in turn, lost it in Uelma, and I found it; and now the Fates have restored it to you in this round-about way." " You are right, doubtless," she said. "At least you have hit upon the only reasonable solution of the enigma. But it is, what one of my old teachers would have pronounced, a 'remarkable con catenation of events!' " She leaned back against the rock, let ting the forgotten sketch-book fall at her feet. The light breeze lifted her hair, her hands were clasped lightly in her lap, her eyes rested dreamily upon ; the far-otr shores. What man who loved her could have helped taking ad vantage of the time, the mood, the cit . - QUinstance ? " See what a strange thing bath come to pass !" I said, in a low voice. "From another continent I have brought to you the key that can unlock your heart. Does this mean nothing? Are we two to go our separate ways, as if this had not been ?—Margaret!" She gave me one swift glance, while the red blood rushed to her forehead in one tumultuous tide ; then covered her face with her hands. I leaned forward ; I dropped upon one knee beside her, like a lover of the old chivalric days; I strove to gain posses sion of the hand that was nearest me. " Look at me, Margaret! Speak to me, for—l love you," 1 whispered. But she drew away from me, trem bling viiolently. " Stop, stop !" she cried ; "you must not say this to me. I cannot bear it!" I would have gone on in spite of what I regarded merely as natural womanly timidity; but she removed her hands from her face, and . bent her dark eyes LANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING AUGUST 9, 1871. full upon me. Her lips were ashy pale. When she spoke, it was In a voice thatwas inexpressibly sad and hopeless: " Go away and leave me to myself for half an hour, my friend. Then come back to me, tot I have something to tell you." I obeyed her silently. At the:expira tion of the half-hour I returned. Far below us Jule and Lawrence sat rocking in a little boat. Near us two birds sWung on a bayberry-bush, cooing and twittering and singing love-songs. She had been betrothed for two years —she was to be married the ensuing Winter. That was the whole story. She had . not mentioned her engage ment because there seemed to be no reason for doing so,and—she;was always slow to speak of that which most nearly concerned her. ' But," she added, " I shall never for give myself for this.reticence, if it has brought sorrow upon you. Believe me. when I say that I never dreamed that you cared for me, save as a friend, until to-day." She said all this cal oily, mechanical ly, as one repeats a lesson learned by rote. But, in her averted eyes, in the flushing and paling of her cheek, in the unnatural tension of her voice, I read tile pain it caused her. Was the 1 pain wholly forme? In the selfishness of my love I strove to solve this clues- ',There k nothing for which you should blame yourself," I said. " The fault, if there lie a fault, is mine alone. Itut out of your pity for the hopeless love I bear you, answer me this once. If we had met earlier—if—" " Hush!" she cried, " Hush ! You must hot ask that question. I must not answer it—lt is not for us to know what might have been. It Is enough that in HiX 11101101 H I shall be a wife. You have no right to question me further. You shall not!" Islay Heaven forgive me, but my Ifeart gave one great bound—for I knew then that Margaret Temple loved me, and, for a'inoment, I exulted in the thought. Then my better self awoke, and a sense of pity for myself, of unut terablepity for her, swept over me. " I will notsay another word,' I sold, after a pause, during which I leaned my head against the solid rock, for it seem ed to mu that the very foundations of my life were giving way. "Not another word. But now tell me; shall I go or stay Shall I leave Newport or not?" She hesitated a moment, looking at me with clear, honest, though troubled eyes; then laid her hand frankly in mine. . wish you would go," she said. "I .....et stay here on my mother's account, and—it is not best that we should meet, Mr. Morison." I raised her hand reverently to my lips, then relinquished it forever. The hest day I left Newport. Julia and Lawrence were married In October, and—so quickly do Joy and sorrow alternate In this strange world— In two niontlis thereafter, my mother died. The old home in West Fourteenth Street was broken. The little boys were placed In a boarding school in the city, with Julia's new home as a re source for half-holidsys and vacations. No one needed ms; It made not a par ticle of dfference to any living being, as far as I could see, whether 1 lived or died. As January approached, and 1 knew that the time for Margaret Tem ple's marriage was drawing near, a strange restlessnUNS took possession of me. I longed to put an ocean between us; yet I would not so wrong my man hood as to go wandering over Europe again a mere di!, Hante—n purposeless vagabond. 0110 night a sudden thought struck me, and forthwith 1 acted there- " f am going into business," I said, e next morning, entering the count g-room of a friend. "Do you want e for a partner? I give you the llrst lance. I have so many thousands to Inn into the concern." " Nothing NVOIlld Hllit lIH better, " said my friend. "We need another man and more capital." " Agreed, then," I rejoined, " On con dilkm that you send nie to St. l'eters burg to take charge of business there." ".Very well. But why do you want to run away again? 11ave you become so thormighly imb u ed with European ideas that you cannot be content in America nri I made some evasive answer, and pro ceeded to the further discussion of busi ness matters. In less than a fortnight I was on my way to Russia. With the exception of my partners and one or two old college-friends who wrote me now and then, giving me news of " the boys," Julia was the only correspondent I had in America—and she was a poor one. As the months went by, and Lawrence, Jr., came to divide her attention with I,awreuce, Sr., her rare letters were filled to over flowing with these twc—" only this and nothing more." She never mentioned Margaret Temple, and I schooled my heart to think of her as a wife—doubt less a loving wife, who, in a happy marriage. had quite forgotten that gold en month at Newport, and the troubled dream in which it ended. Yet none the less truly did 1 regret the " might have been ;" none the less deeply did I feel the loss entailed upon my life. But one morning of my second Sum ner iu St. Petersburg a letter was brought me in Julia's delicate hand writing. I opened it listlessly. Not that I did not love this little sister of mine ; but I thought, ungrateful wretch that I was, that I could repeat it in ad vance, word for word. I knew all her rhapsodies over Lawrence and the baby, by heart, already. As I glanced over the third page, how ever, a name met my eye which at once aroused me and sent the hot blood thril hng through my veins. This is what I ' read : " Oh, John! did I ever remember to tell you that Margaret Temple was not married that Winter. after all? And she is not married yet. I never quite understood the matter ; but it seems that she and Mr. Ashbury ttliat was the name, wasn't it'.') arrived at the sage conclusion that they were not quite suited to each other, and there was a mutual giving up of their matrimonial plans. At all events, the gentleman consoled himself very easily, and mar ried a Philadelphia belle in three months. I meant to have told this be fore, for you always seemed interested iu Margaret; but there is always so much to write about Lawrie, that I am apt to forget less important matters." Phil ! how does the man condemned to life-long imprisonment, shut out from hope and hive and joy, feel when the prison doors are opened and a free pardon is granted him? I know; and I am not ashamed to tell you that I drop ped the letter upon the table and went and kneeled down by my bed even as I 11:01 been used to kneel in my far-away boyhood, with my mother's hand upon my head. And there, with my face to the West, which was now the land of promise to my soul, I humbly thanked Uod that I had at least another chance of-winningthe one woman on earth who could make a home for me. I rose from my knees, folded that precious letter, and put it in my breast pocket, put on my hat, and went down stairs. It was past business-hours • but I would go to the warehouse—that I might begin to put atlitiN in shape for my departure. For I mast go home at the earliest possible moment ; as soon RS I could do so without compromising the interests of my partners. What do you think ? As I stepped into the street and stooped to brush a little dust froni my pantaloons, right before me, In the dirt and mire of the crossing, lay this little golden hand, clasping a pearl in his slender lingers! Did it mean nothing? On the shores of the Mediterranean,' had found the key that could unlock Margaret Tem ple's heart. Here, in far St. Petersburg in the very hour that told me she was free, this hand had dropped at my feet. Was not the pearl it held a type and symbol of what she should one day give me. the precious pearl of love? I took heart of grace. Two months from that day, at ten o'clock in the evening, I left the cars at Hilltop, near which was the residence of Colonel Temple ; and the next morning, at as early an hour as was warrantable, I sallied forth in search of my friends. Just as I reached the out skirts of the village, whom should I see approaching me, as handsome, as stately, as genial as ever, but the colonel him self? He grasped my hand warmly. " Upon my soul," he said, " but this is an unexpected pleasure. Why, I have not seen you before since you ran away from us so suddenly that summer, at Npwport. I thought you were in St. Petersburg. But go on up to the house, sir. I have business down street, that will detain me for an hour or so. Mrs. Temple and Margaret will be delighted to see you." " Colonel Temple " I said, " I came back from St. Petersburg fur your daughter's sake. What have you to say about it?" He looked at me earnestly. " Do you love her ? " " Yes." " Does she love you?" " I do not know ; but—l hope so I " " (Jo on, then, and lind out. We will alk about it when I come back." • _ I went on, reached the house, rang the door-bell, called for the ladies. "Name, sir". " sugested the servant. "It Is no matter," I said; "say that one of their New York friends has called to see them." Clod forgive me! But I knew that Mrs. Temple was never visible at su early an hour; and I wanted to see Margaret's cheek Hush and her eyes grow luminous at the sight of me. I sat hi the pleasant morning-room awaiting her appearance. The air was sweet with the breath of the violets she loved ; soft October winds whispered amid the treetops gay with autumnal glories. I heard her footfall ou the stairs —the rustling of her garments, as she waited a moment in the hall. AL ! I saw all I had hoped to see—the sudden start of surprise ; then the swift color; the lighting up of the shadowy brown eyes; the tremor of the sweet, sensitive mouth. I led her to a seat in the bay-window. I gave her—thiii. "Margaret," I said, "I found this little golden hand in the street of St. Petersburg, just as I had learned that you were free, and it was no sin to love you. I have brought it across the waters for your sake; I place it now in your keeping. If you give it to me again, I shall know that with it you give me what is infinitely more precious than pearls or gold—your love." She sat with downcast eyes, nervous ly turning the little bawlile in her fin gem " I am waiting, Margaret," I wills ' pored. "Am I to have my jewel buck again She did not turn toward me; but slowly, slowly, slowly her hand crept nearer mine—nearer and nearer—until It lay like a rose-leaf In the broad palm outstretched to receive it. Oh, thank hod ! I had won my pearl at last—my wife Margaret. t'tan C. It. Donn. The Desirableness of Being Ilanged. The fleeting character of this life has been the subject of remark from the earliest dawn of philosophy down to the days of Mr. Greeley. When one reflects that the duration of human life hardly exceeds that of a mule, and does not compare with that of-a terrapin or an elephant, it surely must give him a small opinion of our importance, and a vivid realization of the emptiness of all earthly pursuits. The old Countess of Desmond, it is true, lived nearly a cen tury and a half, and Attila, if we may rely upon the veracity of history, lived 12.1 years. St. Patrick also reached the green old age of 122, and A ppolonius of Tyana lived eight years l o nger—to say nothing of minor charaelers, snch as Thomas Winslow, a Captain in Crom well's army, who was born In the year 1020 and died in the year I ; and De metrius Grabowsky, a Pole, who reach ed the enormous age of BM years. But such instances of longevity have been rare,.at least, in the United States. The ohly very rinnarkable instance that we know of is that of Mr. John Haines, of Murray county, (leorgia, who was liv ing in PO!, anti is, for aught we know, still in good health. He was born in Mecklenberg county. Virginia, In the year 1731, and set forth at the age of 3?, to join the 111-fated expedition of Brad dock, but after several days' march was turned back by the news of his disas trous defeat on the Monongahela. These, of course, are all abnormal cases, and, since the days of the Psalm ist, it has continucd to be substantially true, that " the days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by rea son of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength, labor and sorrow; for It Is soon cut off, and we by away." And what does the life that we live amount to? What Bali/ faction does it bring to the most fortunate of us? We toil on through a series of disappoint ments, privations, griefs ' vexatious; we are sick ; we are cold ;!, we are hub gry ; we are bereaved, afflicted, perse cuted, forsaken by friend's. All of us ultimately give utterance to the cry, " All is vanity and vexation of spirit!" Religion is the only solid comfort. It is only by looking to a life beyond the grave that we found ally tolerable hope. Then, on certain conf . litions, we may cherish the expectation of rod and peace and freedom from trouble—and that "all tears may be wiped away" from our weary eyes. We are led into these remarks by the execution of Birney Johnson and Rich ard Green on Thursday last, at Prince George Court-house, for the murder of Mr. Charles Friend. They died, as nearly all men do on the gallows, hop ing to meet their Saviour in heaven in a few minutes. They were attended to the place of execution by a couple of clergymen, and both of them seemed to be thoroughly prepared to die. Mr. Charles Friend was one of the gentlest and most estimable of gentlemen—bp loved and respected by the entire com munity in which he lived. Why he should have been made the victim of this foul murder, it is difficult to con jecture. It was one of the darkest and most wanton in the annals of crime. These are the circumstances of the case before us. We have all heard them over and again a thousand times. We shall read them again to-morrow when we take up the morning paper. Any execution will serve for a fresh illustra tion. When Mrs. Fair is executed, we shall have the same story. Reverend gentlemen will attend her to the scaf fold, and dismiss her regenerated spirit to the felicities of heaven. We remem ber, in IS61), when the monster Probst, who murdered a whole family (some six or seven persons) with an axe, in Philadelphia, was hung, he died in a most delightful ecstasy, calling on his Saviour, and admonishing the crowd.— When Foster, the street-car murderer, of New York, gets his deserts, m. shall also hear that he "has found Jesus," . _ and bade farewell to a vain world with the light of Heaven irradiating his countenance. And when the female Borgia of Baltimore iif she lie guilty); Mrs. Wharton, puts on the black cap, the " reporters I will tell us also of her religious raptures, and what a good time she has before her among the saints in light. They all " find Jesus." They all swing ofT, like the thief on the cross, into " Paradise." We therefore recommend to our young people Murder as a means of Salvation. You have first your chances of hanging the jury or getting off in sonic other way (like Salmon, of Albemarle) ; and if so, there is no occasion to repent as yet; on the other hand, if you are ar rested and convicted, and Governor Walker (as he generally does) refuses to pardon you. your soul is saved certain. There is nothing like hanging to produce "a repentance not to be repented of" in the briefest possible time—after it is clearly settled that the Governor is notgoing to interfere. Friendsofeondemned parties would do well to pay attention to this ; the slightest idea—the dimmest prospect —of not being hung, shuts out the Sav iour altogether—and stifles every desire to get religion. It is best to tell the patient that there is no hope whatever —and then he comes down to his work like a man. It is wonderful haw quick a man, under these circumstances, can settle up. We have known them bitter ly sorry for their sine in less than half a minute—of course always supposing that the Governor is not going to inter fere. Out of a hundred men who are hanged, all of them dying penitent, we suppose about ninety-nine would go back to their old ways, if they got a pardon at the last moment. It is a mercy to hang them. For that guarantees their eternal happi ness and prevents a relapse. , And here is the advantage of dying in this way over dying at home in one's bed. When a man comes to his last hour, under ordinary circumstances, he is weak, and languid, and sick, and can not exert his penitential faculties with any considerable energy. The mind wanders ; things are confused ; there is a hurry ; and a Death-bed Repentance under such circumstances is always, in a greater or less degree, a very question able proceeding. But a condemned criminal can take it coolly, and make his arrangements at leisure. He meets Death after notice duly served ; and when the dread enemy reaches out his bony hand to drag him into Isis horrid dominions, he is ready to meet him with sntettigat?et the calm declaration, "Sir, I repent— and, if Gov. Walker doesn't interfere, I intend to battle you and the Devil by remaining in that frame of Mind the balance of my life; so I'm not afraftl to meet you."—Richmond Enquirer. The Mosquito. [From the New York Atlas Mosquitoes vary In size as much as potatoes, but average well in this re gion. They are built on the same plan as the elephant (only a trifle smaller) having plenty of legs, a bob tail, with a trunk or bill on the front end of them. Their body is all stomach, and their trunk Is a suction pump, glmblet-polnt ed, and hard as Damascus steel. They are a bird of song, although Audubon classes them strictly a game bird, but he was liable to mistakes as well as the tel egraph. In these parts they go wild, while in some States they are utilized for labor. In some parts of New Jersey, where the soil is so thin that horses and oxen cannot be worked with safety lest they break through, they are used for farm purposes, three pair of full-blood Jersey mosquitoes being considered equal to a tandem team of two geese, or one middling-sized goat. We know this to be a fact, having frequently seen the farmers there plowing and doing other work with all the above-named labor saving machines. Down South when a vessel is ready for planking, the planks are laid on to the timbers and a little blood rubbed on to the inside of them, when the mosquitoes will sting through the plank and timber, and the men in side will rivet up their bills and thus save bolts and treenalls. A well-built vessel mosquito-fastened, is considered a first-class job. Mosquitoes round in these parts are a trifle smaller than a humming bird, and us musical as a sewing machine. There are more pleasing moments In a man's life titan those lu which he lies in bed on a sultry night, and listens to the mos quitoes warbling in the distance, and hear them approaching the bed hum ming over the familiar song of Fe, Fl, Fo, Futn, I smell the blood of an E'ng- Hellman, and know that he is the person meant. He does not take hold of much solid comfort, as about a dozen of them light ou him with a "zlz," set their drills and commefice boring for his blood. He can't drive them away, he can't go away himself: Ile may slat rotted and swear as much as he will, But the pesky mosquito will linger there stl Sting-tapping Ills skin with ablootly long 1,111, And there It will suck till It's guzzled a gill— or thereabouts. . . . For real pleasure, we would prefer sleeping in a bee•hive, to undertaking to bottle up sleep in the midst of a swarm of mosquitoes. lu this connec tion we cannot help quoting the lines of Dr. Watts commencing: . when We've tried all the week to he good, how pleasant On Saturday night, To sit up tilt morning hi toil, The confounded mosquitoes to fight, A mosquito's stomach will stretch like a government contractor's con science. A common sized " skeet" will hold a half-pint of blood, and when a person is victimized by a swarm of a hundred thousand or so, tapping him in different places, It is easy to see that there is quite a drain on his system. As songsters they:are equal, if net superior, to the mule or shanghai. We hear of a chap who, on entering his room in a boarding house in I Irooklyn,heard some one singing, and on lighting the gas, he espied a mosquito sitting on a match sailing round in the Washbowl, singing. A life on the Ocean Wave—but that was au exceptional case. We shall not at tempt a joke on the mosquito's bill, as that subject has been handled about as much as it will be, and we don't know that we owe them anything, as it is al ways our intention to cancel our ac count at the time. If there is one satisfaction that is at least ten feet ahead of any other satisfac tion, It is to enter your sleeping room on the window sills and chairs, and to then and there disrobe, crawl into bed, be• neath a good bar, Ile there and hear them cuss and swear outside the net. We con sider that, the most satisfactory thing it is possible to cancel we. A nil while we are mentioning the thing, we would suggest the arranging of mosquito bars and nets In the windows, as we call never tell when we are liable to have the itch, or be favored with mosquitoes. There are people who consider that mos quitoes are made in vain, but to our minds, if nature ever got up anything that was a perfect success, it was when the mosquito was produced. If they were made for anything it was to bite, and us a bitist we would like to see one's et nal. Newspaper Work The Brooklyn Eagle, in an able article on " Newspaper work and workers," truthfully remarks that there is no other profession but enjoys immunity from obsetvation as to its modes. The preacher writes in the privacy of his study, and can concoct platitudes or pad out plagiarism that would be the ruin of the editor and reporter. The lawyer consults his clients and organizes his campaign in private, bringing into tour only as much as makes for his cause and against the cause of his adversary. The doctor plies his potions and launches in his lancet in secret. If the patient re cover, it may be the medicine or it may be pills or Providence, the physician is scatheless. None of these comfit° light that their deeds may be reproved. Moreover, the work of the press is continuous, as well as constantly pub. lic. There Is no peace in our war. There is no rest for the weary. Space is no more annihilated by telegraph than time by journalism. The eve ning and the morning are not merely the first day, but all the seven. Night is annihilated as to all its quantities cf repose. Every minute of every hour of the twenty-four is occupied by some workers doing some work that shows itself in the newspaper of the day and afternoon. Repetition is as impossible as rest. Facts are ener new. Com ments must be as fresh as facts, and the edition is a remorseless giant that east up all the seconds. The making of a newspaper is perpetual motion in a thousand fields. In such a work de nanding ceaseless effort, permitting no )atise, exacting eternal and ever vary ❑g exercises, it is impossible for wheat o be unmixed of chaff, for accuracy not o be impaired by mistake, for injustice lot occasionally to be done. The Words We Use It has been calculated that our lan guage, including the nomenclature of the arts and sciences, contains 100,000 words; yet of this ithmense number it is surprising how few are In common use. 'fo the great majority, even of ed ucated men, three-fourths of these words are almost as unfamiliar as Greek or Choctaw. Strike from the lexicon all . . the words nearly obsolete—all the words of special arts or professions—all the words confined in their usage to par ticular localities—all the words which even the educated speaker uses only in hommopathic doses—and it is astonish ing into what a Lilliputian volume your lirobdignagian Webster or Worcester will have shrunk. It has been calcu lated that a child uses only about one hundred words; and unless he belongs to the educated classes, lie will never employ more than three or four hundred. A distinguished American scholar estimates that few speakers or writers use as many as ten thou sand words ; ordinary persons, of fair intelligence, not over three or four thousand. Even the great orator who is able to bring into the field, in the war of words, half the vast array of light and heavy troops which the vocabulary af fords, yet contents himself with a far less Imposing display of verbal force. Even the all-knowing Milton, whose' wealth of words seems amazing, and whom Dr. Johnson charges with using "a Baby lonish dialect," uses only eight thous and and Shakespeare himself, " the myriad-minded," only fifteen thousand. These facts show that the difficulty of mastering the vocabulary of a new tongue is greatly overrated ; and they show, too, how absurd is the boast of every new dictionary-maker that his vocabulary contains so many thousand words more than those of his predeces sors.— The Lakeside Monthly. Microscopic :Wonders Lewenboeck tells us of an insect seen with the microscope, of which twenty seven millions would only equal a mite. Insects of various kinds may be seen in the cavities of a grain of sand. Mould is a forest of beautiful trees, with the branches, leaves and fruit. Butterflies are fully feathered. Hairs are hollow tubes. The surface of our bodies is cov ered with scales like a fish ; a single graiaof sand would cover one hundred. and fifty of these scales, and yet a scale covers ilveXhundred pores. ,Through these narrow openings the sweat forces itself like water through a sieve. The mites make live hundred steps a sec ond., Each drop of stagnant water con tains a world of animated beings.swhn ming with as much liberty as whales in the sea. Each leaf tins a colony of insects grazing on it. like cows on the meadow. The liewspapers., Some of the Men Who Make Them There be those who insist that the Tribune—we allude to the paternal New York journal, and not to any of the light weights, its imitative ofTspring—is not conducted so ably as when Mr. reeky braced his No. II boots against the dash board and proudly drove his four-horse team, Ripley, Dana, Fry and Congdon ; but there is here room for diner ence of opinion. It present active man agers are younger, but It does not follow that they are feebler. The erratic Cong don is desultory; Fry is dead; White law Reid, the managing editor, looks as sallow and tired-out as ever. lie does a good deal of hard work, and the devil of nervousness, that has a den i it almost every newspaper °face, has evidently laid a heavy hand on him. Mr. Ripley still struggles with books at the west window, and as he calmly adds to his length of days, he blasphemes internal ly because H. ti. insists that "every book must have some sort of a notice." The tyranitical philosopher—so philo sophical that he tenderly lifts the pre dacious cock roach,'and puts him safely Out at the window, and so tyrannical that he ejaculates fiercely at Bayard Taylor when that oriental comes into hid sanctum with a cigar—assumes that no human being would write a book not worth reading—a very violent assump tion, which disgusts the scholarly re- viewer. %In the Tribit , (Alice also we found "little \\line Winter," still chief of dramatic critics, as he was tell years ago; Oliver Johnson, the genial friend and steady worker, who made the . Star( ry Mandard what it was, and whose milk of human kindness hasnot yet been soured by riding " the winged hippogriff, Reform ;" John Hay, the step-father of "Little ltreeches," and administrator of the ellects of "Jim Bludso," of the Prairie-Belle, Colonel Hay acknowledged that lie is greatly surprised at the acceptance which his dialectic pieces have met with, and likes to tell of a friend of his wlto alter ed to lend his book of poems to a sick lady, and received the tart reply ; "No, I thank you. That Jim lilutlsu is so horrid. There are no such people in my circle, and I don't wish to make their acquaintance." Hay flatters himself that some of Dickens' offspring would not be pleasant company —Bill Sykes and Uriali Heap, for instance. The most of the executive work of the World falls on 1). Croley, a stout and florid journalist of solid,rather than bril liant, characteristics, who, a few years ago, failed to keep afloat a little weekly paper at Rockford, Illinois. Ile gives to the Wurid Its rationalistic tone, but in thls he Is seconded by the active sym athies of Mr. Marble and Mr. 1-lurl burt, on whom the chief labor of edito rial writing devolves. Br. Carroll does Ilse sparkling "Personals," and Orpheus C. Kerr (not so well known by his pseu donym of Mr. Newell) paints the charm ing genre pictures which appear once a week under the head of "Social Studies," and which are more admired and stolen front than any other journalistic depart ment in the land. As Is proper, Mr. Croly has a generous opinion of "Jenny June," and lie says enthusiastically, "My wife is the ablest assistant 1 eve: had in journalism. Connery is now editor of the 1 fer«ld —a bright, vigilant, alert man of thirty flve—six years ago the Herald's Wash ington correspondent. He is always on the qui tire, and is judicious as well as enterprising, front the Herald stand point. Ile Is lean of course—nono of the New York journalists are fat. Young Raymond, Henry \V., has left the Times, and thinks tie will permit mnitly abandon journalism for law. Ile acknowledges the fascinations of his father's profession, but doubts if his natural gravitation towards it is strong enough to justify a life-long union. Ho there is another promising young man lost to the world—gone from the First Estate into the realm of "The doubt fill halm., of rights and wrongs, And weary lawyers with enoless longue 5." The editor of Applelo7l'B Journal is tobert Carter, a born and bred journal st, but—the disjunctive conjunction is appropriate—a thorough scholar too. Ruddy, fat and phlegmatic, he has nevertheless studied broadly and deeply in history,seience and belle letlreß,in the living springs of Orient and Accidentl— As a companion of Dana and Ripley, on the 7'cibunc, he wrote some of the best at tidies in Appleton's Encyclopaedia, and a more recent volume of his, "A Summer's Cruise," is one of the most delicious of the hot-weather books. Naturally radical and rationalistic in his tendencies, he must find himself considerably irritated, at times, by the elastic traces and inflexible breeching of Appleton's conservative harness. Rut he bears it well, and with the assistance of Mrs. Carter, a most facile and grace ful writer on 801110 of the most enter taining of themes, Applclun'N Journal maintains a high standing in that half way-between position which its pub lishers seem to have chosen for it.— Chicago Post. thlnese Women. Mrs. ti. L. Baldwin, missionary to China, lectured in Philadelphia recent ly. Of the women in China she is re ported to have said : " The women of China are divided into two classes—the bound-footed are the common class. The latter carry the burdens, do all the drudging and out door work, while their husbands do nothing. When a little girl is born the parents think the gods are angry with them, and they hold a consultation whether she shall be allowed to live or not. If she is, when she arrives at the age of four years they hold another con sultation, whether she shall be a hound footed or a large-footed woman. If she is chosen to be bound-footed she is per mitted to do anything, but if otherwise, she has to be the family's slave. I have seen a woman with four children strap- ped to her back, and rowing a boa while her husband laid in the cabi smoking his pipe. "Girls have no choice of their hus bands; the young girl is sold by her parents at the highest price they can obtain for her, until after they are mar ried. If be chooses he call be divorced from her by talking too much ; if lie becomes poor, or gets tired of her he sells her again. In the coldest weather the large-footed women are not allowed to wear stockings, and cannot dress in any other colors than black or blue. The manner in which they make their feet small is by binding the four toes under the foot, which they keep bound up for eleven years, when the foot tecornes dead. I have walked through the streets when the woman would brush against my dress so as to see my feet, so they could tell to what class I belonged. I would say to them, 'I will show you my feet, but do not pull up my clothes, as it is rude.' When I would expose my feet to them they would exclaim: 'Why, have you no real ladies in America?' And the only way that I could make them believe we had was by telling them that the women read books like the men ,which utterly astounded them, as the real Chinese lady is brought up in the utmost ignorance, and they only marry in rich families, because they know and do so little, and need so much waiting upon that it takes a rich hus band to support them— " If you ask a Chinese woman how many chtdren she has, she will tell you only the number of the boys. She has to be asked the second time how many girls she has, as they are thought so little of, that in many cases they are killed as soon as born. A large•footed woman told me once that her first child was a little girl, and she described to me how she loved the little one. 'My husband went out,' she said ' and brought in a tub of water. I begged him to spare its life, but he took the little thing and put its head into the water, and held it there until it was dead. Her second baby was a daughter, and it was served the same as the first; the third was a boy ; he lived until he was about four years old, then the gods got angry and killed him ; then my husband died ; and If I eat anything nice, and if I wear good clothes, my relatives become angry, and treat me harshly.' Even In Christian churches . in China the women are not allowed in the same room with the men but are partitioned rain a lattice-work room." NUMBER 32 Humorous A celebrated wit was asked if he knew Theodore Hook. " Yes," he replied ; " Hook and eye art~ old acquaintances." A youthful political aspirant, after canvass harangue, met his particular friend with, " Well, my dear sir, did you hear my last speech?" "I hope so." The hay crop must be a failure In La conia, N. 11., for the local journal says that "grasshoppers have got lame try ing to hop from one blade to another." The Lowell, Mass., Courier says : the most humiliating domestic use a full grown man can be put to is to be sent to the linker's for "a cent's worth of yeast." A French barber's sign rends thus: "To-morrow the public will be shaved gratuitously." or eounw, to-morrow never comes. Some one, describing a bad dinner to which he had been invited, said that "the meat was cold, the wine was hot, and everything was sour but the vin egar." A five-year-old city boy told his lother how to make butter: "You just ake a long stick with a cross at the end fit ; then you get a big tub ; and then nu borrow a eow." The owner of %dog in Lowell, Mass., ndignantly claimed a reduction in his .anine license at the City Clerk's (Knee, he other day, on the ground that his log was but half the size of another dog which the same license fee of only ruts exacted. A. gentleman in England who recent ly captured a whale and paid a friend half-a-crown to inform him how to pre serve it, was advised to "put the whale carefully Into a glass bottle, cover it over with spirits of wine k strong whiskey may dot and then cork and seal up." Kansas City, Mo., boasts a blacksmith who has a wicked son. The black smith, Nv he II spoken to about the tre• mendous muscle of his right arm, points to the boy and Hays , " More muscle wai+ developed on this arm Cor recting that Infernal boy than ever ply ing the hammer brought forth." A lady had a favorite lap-dog, which she called Perchance. "A singular mime," said somebody, " fora beautiful yet, madame. NVlwredld you Ilud It ?" "Oh," drawled she, "it was named from Byron's dog. You remember where he says " Perrhanee my dog will howl." woman in Memphis was determins to commit suicide, but was forcibly led on several occasions. '('lie ~, a /anchr says of her: " Eight times did this courter of the grim monarch's Icy embrace attempt to cross the Styx through the medium of the Mississippi. She is a good woman—for Ileum" A. young man in Lafayette, Intl., is humility personitied. The other day lie asked a young lady if lie might be allowed the privilege of going home with her, and Indlgnatly refused ; upon which he inquired very humbly If she would permit him to mil on the fence and see her go by. " I'm not used to begging," said 0 little girl to a lady of whom she had asked alms, "'eause only two weeks ago my father was a merchant!"— " Why," child, how could he be re• dueed to poverty so soot "My father took n bad two dollar bill at 1118 pea-nut stand, and it ruined him," sobbed the At Lawrence, Kansm, on Sunday, while 0 minister was holding forth in the church, a crowd got up a cock-light in the yard. The people who had con gregated In the church went out, to stop the light, but awaited until the battle was over before objecting. The minis ter looked out of the window at the crowd and said : "We are all miserable sinners—which whipped?" " You can't stand there," said a watch man to a thin man In a suit of rusty black, who was endeavoring to main tain a favorable position for viewing a late tire; "you must conic down, sir." "Allow are to remain, If you please; am a reporter, and It is necessary that I should see what Is going on." " I don' care," responded the guardian ; " If you want, a report of It, you'll see it In all the papers to-morrow." A woman went into a store and asked the proprietor if lie had any black hen's eggs. " Don't know one kind from the other," said he ; " but there's a basket full eggs there on the counter." "I can tell them," said the customer.— ' " \Vell then, help yourself," said the dealer. She did so, paying the ordinary price. What was the grocer's chagrin upon the customer's departure to Lind all of his large eggs gone and nothing but small unsalable ones remaining. An amusing incident took place re cently at a trial. The counsel had just risen to state the case for the plain till; and had got no further than, " May it please your honor, and gentlemen " when he was interrupted by a small juror, whose head was just visi ble above the box, with, "Cut itshort !" The ',lawyer replied quickly : " Sir, I will cut it short! Sir, I will cut it al most as short as you are!" Ile was not interfered with any more by the little ror. 810411.101 Prospects A fair estimate of the total import trade of the United States for the last fiscal year, leaving out the specie, would be, say live hundred and twenty millions in gold value. A. similar estimate of the shipments of pro duce and merchandise alone, judging by the same standard, would be, say live hun dred and fifty millions in paper currency value; to this may be added about eighty three millions in specie as above, from this port, and seventeen millions (probably a little less) from other ports—making a handsome offset for the gold coat of foreign imports, with the profits and freight money included. We know that there has been much uneasiness at the heavy increase in the outflow of coin ; but, in the year ending June 30, ISGS, we sent from this port alone over seventy-six millions in gold—almost as much as last year—and felt no serious I inconvenience. If confidence and pluck, and something like the old energy, come back to our people with the fresh cool breath of Autumn, we see no reason why the fall trade shall not prove to be a season of unex ampled prosperity.- A") e) York Journal of Commerce. Dlslappefirance. Mr. 0. A. Grider, con tectioner and baker this city, has been missing from his nne over mince last Friday week, and though a most vigorous search has heel made for him, thus far no informatim whatever has been gained as to his whore abouts. Ile left here on the morning 0 the day named with the intention of visit ing Ifethlehem, his former home, purpos ing to return by noon, which was the last seen or heard of him. lls disappearance is the HUi,joet of much conjecture and so licitude, particularly so became) his brini ness is in a t o ttering condition, and four or live annual! and helpless children will be thrown into orphanage if he should not return—the wire and 'nigher having died over a year ago. He was laboring under deep pecuniary embarrassment at the time of his leaving, and a levy has since been made upon his stock and effects, and the time for sale of same announced. \V hether . . . he haS been foully dealt with, met death by accident, committed suicide, or decamped for parts unknown, remains to be discover ed. Tho general opinion is that his absence is attributable to self.destruction.—A WM. town Democrat. Employment for Women and Men. Whilst Mrs. Anthony and Stanton are expressing their sympathy with Mrs. Fair, and ventilating in California their views in favor of female suffrage, the law of marri age, A:c., they neglect to congratulate their sex upon the fact that there is a very at tractive opening in California for women In want of work. The Labor Exchange in San Francisco, bas in three years found employment for over eight thousand wo men, and more than twice that number of men. 'Phis' year they have found places for 2,140 women and 1,7:5 men. The advantages may be stated t 1 M fol lows: Wages for housework are from $2O to $3.5 a month, gold. A woman desir ous of securing a place has to write to the Secretary of the Labor and Employment Exchange, stating her age, health, capacity, J: ' 3. and her willingness, in consideration of having her fare out paid, to sign an agreement to work for $3O a month until the sum advanced, $lOO, is reimbursed.— How long such a favorable state of things may last no one can say, but there aro in dications in regard to the present position and prospects of women in California which the Anthonys and the Stantone can not compensate. A Rich Family Swept Away. Three generations of the Phillips family of East Fortieth and Forty-fifth streets, oc cupied a carriage on the boat which explod ed in New York harbor at the fatal mo ment, and were very near the boiler; they were grandparents, sons and daughter and grandchildren, and were six in number. Only one of their number (Mrs. Moss Phillips) retains any Intelligence. The others are dead or unconscious. All wore a large amount of diamonds and other or naments, which are either lost or in the hands of the authoritiei. Mrs. Moss Phil lips, of East Fortieth street, had shortly be fore lett a sick bed. STATE OF AFFAIRS IN TIIE NORTIL Tour of the Congressional Sub-Couiwlt• 'Trite Version of the Story or Misrepresentations and Falsehood* the Radical Account Exposed. The Daily Patriot of to-morrow morning will contain the following article in response to a statement telegraphed hence on Satur day, copied from the Evening Star: The Sub-Committee,consisting of Messrs. Scott, Stevenson and Van Trump, appoint ed to investiSate the alleged outrages In South Carolina, returned here on Saturday afternoon, and immediately after a state ment was published, upon the authority of the Radical members, though without their signatures, which was subsequently tele graphed over the country by the Asso ciated Press. We aro authorized by Judge Van Trump to pronounce that publi cation, in many essential particulars, and a perversion of facts iu others, evi dently colored, with the purpose of pro ducing a partisan and false impression.— The testimony shows that there are four oounties, viz., Laurens, Chester, York and Spartanburg. where acts of vio lence have been committed on both stiles. The whites and blacks are nearly equally divided in population, and the carpet bag rule, by which the negro is 10111blY plll over the white man, has produced a bad' and even a dangerous smut of feeling. The poor whites aro mostly aggrieved by an op., presson which Is Intended to make them. the inferiors of recent slaves—steeped Mnorance and vice. Everything has been' ono to aggravate the laboring whites, and , to outrage the social condition or their Dies. On the very evening of the last elec tion, Governor Scott organized fourteen negro regiments, and armed them with 7, WO Winchester rifles and 100,000 rounds of ti x ed ammunition. Those regiments were tik tributed in different parts of the State, tool especially where their presence would be most likely to excite bad blood. This pro reeding was rendered more offensive by the fact that the whites who had become alarmed, were refused the Just privilege hp protect themselves. A company which had been In existence long helot . ° this time was disarmed and disbanded by the Gov ernor. It is in proof before the Committee that negroes disguised as I: n- I: Iu x Ina o committed many outrages. The testimony of the negro( s wits or the lowest kind, and wholly unworthy of belief. They wt re at tracted by the fee of $2 per diem, and in many eases wore evidently drilled for the occasion. At Spartanburg numbers of nom were congregated in the post•olllite, while waiting to be called as witnesses,anc doubtless learnt the lesson which was afterwards rehearsed substantially In the same words. elf the various negroes who pretended to have boon punished, but one was stripped, and one white man at Colum bia who, while claiming to be a refugee on accounts of terror, was holding an Miler there at the expense of the State. Ilia fic titious wound had been healed with lhat plaster. In the Radical statement, It is broadly alleged that ten negroes were taken from the Jail and murdered by an armed band, but the farts connected with this transaction are all intentionally suppressed for enbet. They were as follows ' A com pany a some twenty•live armed negroes appcared In that neighborhood, and openly announced their Intention to shoot the first white man they should meet.— Soon afterwards a poor draylllllll utonel Stevens, With one arm, who was unirernaly regarded as n worthy and atillable was drivfng along the road with a barrel of whiskey In his cart. Ile WIN stopped by this band of ruffians, and the whiskey do mantled. Ito told thorn that it was not his property, but gave them a flask or his own, and started. After going a short diatande, the negroes tired at his cart, and struck IL In several places. A man who had Joined Stevens on the road, fled for his lifit and he himself, seeing the armed 'legroom in pur suit, abandoned the cart, and sought refuge in a neighboring Cablil. 110 was followed by the wretches, and against the efforts of the negro WOlllllO, whose 11111111110 Hlirlier 110 load sought, and Ids own, Ito was Men out.. A fter d rowing loto,li ve,of the gang took Win into the woods, and riddled Ins body with balls, The perpetrators of this °en rage wore arrested and put in Chester Jail, but before being secured they killed the Deputy Sheriff Smith, who nerved the pro cons. Suddenly it negro camo from Colum bia with what purported to be a writ ,eef habeas corpus from the Radical Judge Thomas at Columbia, but not attested in proper form. The Sheriffealled Into vouik ell the leading lawyers In order to deter mine what course he should properly pursue in regard to the Informal and irreg ular requisition which bore no °Willie() of genuineness, and came In an envelope of the Adams' Express Company. Mean time, the news spread, anti a Vigiletnee Committee, rained into indignation, k now • Mg how t lovernor Scott had pardoned the worst criminals by hundreds, and believ ing it to be a trick to parry off file murder ers, determined to administer stern justly,' themselves, by making, an example to check this outlawry. They took the prison ers out of jail by fierce. and executed them aummarily, one of the number was ref leased by the declaration of it white wo• man, that he was believed to be innocent of the atrocious crime of which the others wore guilty. While this nit of vengeance Is deprecated, the extraordinary proveau• Lion ' anti the alarm created by armed blacks as well us their violence, nnist be considered in connection with it. 'rlia other mtatoinents might be exponell with equal effect, but thin Illustration In sufficient for their present purponof Ono of the principal wlttionmen, named ()won, mn eronn-extuninallon admitted lirmeafli Congressman Wallace, who was elected first by the liouse of Representatives and then by stuffed ballots, lu It district with live thousand Democratic majority, follow ed the Committee everywhere and was 01111 Of the active managers in getting up testi mony. The affair at which he figured at Spartanburg Is what was telegraph red over the country as a gross outrage, exhibits the purpose to magnify and exaggerate the merest incidents for political direct. Ile was Heated next to Stevenson, of the Committee, at the hotel table, when a new named Berry, who formerly had a feud with Wallace, entered In a state of intoxi cation, and, descrying his old enemy, he seized a pitcher of milk and throw it at him, whereupon Wallace drew a revolver, would have tired it, but for the interven lion of those present. Tills was the extent of that outrage, and Berry, When sobered, sought to make every atonement. There is no political feeling of any kind iu the un fortu nato disturbances which have occurred in these four Cr/Unties of South Carolina. They result, from the malad ministration, corruption, robbery, carpet baggism, and especially among the poor laboring white men, frem a wicked pur pose on the partof the authorities and Leg islature to assert black supremacy and de grade them with negro rule. That is with ;hem, perhaps, the real and most serious difficulty. It iv a question of race, which, as South Carolina is now administered and sustained by Federal power, threatens the gravest consequences. The white mechanic and laborer, when he limit; the worst crimes protected and pardoned; the low an engine of persecution, politically abused, in order to oppress him with negro domin ation, and to outrage his wifo and children, will resist, be the sacrifice what It may. be uneducated and plain, but he Is dill an American, and mood of his race. MOM= Terrible Affair In Cecil Connly. Metry- Ininl—A Man and Ills war. lintlnntly Ono of the saddest of the many cAses of death by lightning wo have noticed this Summer, occurred at Bay View, Cecil county, Maryland. The victims wore Clem ent Itoyde, and Martha, his wife, and they Lesided in a two-story stone dwelling-house about two miles east of Bay View. During a storm last Saturday evening, about six o'clock, the house was struck by light ning. It smashed the window to atoms, and appears to have made another leap to the first-story window of the room in which the faintly, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. ltoydo and their three children were at supper. This window it also shivered to atoms, and spent its force Insido the room. The father and mother finished their meal before the children, and got up from the table. Mr. Rude was standing with his face towards the window looking out, and Mrs. Royde V• 118 stranding behind him, sewing one of his suspenders, when suddenly there came a fearful deafening crash, and the two fell to the Moor. The man made no sound, but the mother gave one shriek, and breathed a feW minutes after she fell. An examination of the two bodies showed no marks except that the hair on one side of Mrs. Royde's head was slightly burned. Arehbitthor N. H. 11!olferanto 11111 i the Nem, E M Archbishop Rosecrans has published -a card in the Ohio Slate Journal in relation to the Now York riots, from which we make the following extract: The attempt to make the Catholic church responsible for the late Now York . riot is unfair and unjust. Those who were tired upon by the police and military were on the spot In defiance of a strict command of their archbishop, given in all the church es of the city the Sunday previous. The feud between the Orange and Ribbon fac tions, both made up of a faction of the lower order of the Irish people, - is now centuries old. Religion was made the pretext, but both parties practically re nounced religion in their strife. Tho New York riot was simply a continuation of that strife. To make the Catholic church responsible fur what it forbids, abhors and condemns, is unfair and unjust. We Catholics desire to be citizens of a free Republic. We want nothing for our selves but what we will do our best to maintain for others. It would be a pleas ure to us to see Jesus Christ honored and loved by_all our;countrymen,but no pleas ure to see any OEIO calling himself a Catho lic. for fashion 'a sake or on compulsion.— The clergy have no temporal or political design. Their expectations are on the period that shall follow the judgment whence they can suffer patiently though with regret, the obloquy and unjust hate excited against them by misrepresentations of such scandals as the New York riot. A few days ago a young gentleman and lady from the rural districts visited Somerset, Pa., to get married. The young couple entered town on this fes tive occasion astride of one horse. They dismounted, had their horse fed par took of a sumptuous repast, , consisting of crackers, were then united in the holy bonds of matrimony by a justice of the peace, when they again. mounted their steed and wended ;their way to their mountain home amid the cheers of the populace.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers