My Blind Canary.
Sweet singer to my it roams,
Hytblinil canary i
Igwelt upon the liquid note
Pat flll* thy little breast and throat,
And cornea forth piping, hill and airy,
Reaching tar and tar away,
To some dreamy, twilight- day,
Whose virgin star with softness beams
On tniry doll and (airy.
When night knoel* down before the west
In silent prayer,
That, lill the morn unveil* her eye,
In tranquil sleep the world shall lie,
And orf and king like blessings share;
Tin then thy voice in music full*
Along tny heart's deserted hall*.
Whoso mold'ring rafter* And Umir guest
Too sweet U> t*onr
Who made thy nong so all divine.
My blind canary ?
Who taught thy little tongue to *ing T
Who gave thy voieo a luavenly ring ?
How learned thee thus to sweetly vary
The long vibration* ol thy muse.
And o'er high angel* to diffuse
A lay too flue for hearts liko mine.
So ml and weary ?
What dark-wing'd lute cloe-eale>i lliino
eyes,
My soul'* enchanter?
A Into, may be, of high decree
Hdaincil this world thou ehould'st not sec
Or that our lite'* a cheat and banter.
The heart's deep wrong, the maiden's loar;
The pain, thestrilo, suspense and liar;
Our woes to know thou art 100 wise.
Sweet heaven hannter.
Oost sing the joys of warmer elifnos.
My little stranger?
Thoxo changeless green Canary isle*,
Where ever long the summer smiles
I >n tanuirin and forest ranger ?
On those green islee, lopt by the sea,
FVirennial blooms thy parent tree,
Far from man's sins, far from his crime*,
And far from danger.
How came thee from thy snnny isles,
In cold to wander ?
As poets Irom the heavens are flung
Poor mortals of this earth among,
For bread to sing, end starve, and pander
Thou minstrel of the stately palms,
In frosty climes now sing for alms,
Where man beguiles with hcarUoos wiles,
Deceit and slander.
The yucca and the citron tree
Thou knowest no inure.
ITie gi lavas sweet and mangostecn
Will never more by thee he seen,
Thy treble note no more will pom
O'er mango, palm and asphodel,
And pomegranate, and aureate 1**11;
No more, my bird, thy vision's free
To see thy native shore.
There is a more of brighter beams
Thine eyes beneath.
Than ever shone to mortal view.
Or fancy's painting ever drew.
Thy downy form is but the sheath .
And music, flashing on its throne
Of paradise and diamond zone.
Thy world illumes, and incense teems
On thy laurel w nath.
Wheu low the plumes of awful death
In dusk descends
Cpon the couch where lite is run,
And cold oblivion's night begun,
Kre yet the soul its easement rends,
The lights of heaven |>as in review,
And waning hopes their pulse renew:
Such <oeno* are thine, to which thy breath
Its sweetness lends.
ifh 1 minstrel ol the mystic trill.
And rhyme elastic'
There is a singer in my breast
That rises to tby vocal crest,
Though long her Inte has lain monastic
Thy dulcet note* with thee she'd share;
But since thy song's untinged with care,
She stoops, ami droops, and wanders still
Amid her dreams dynastic.
dwell in space and nothingness
With thee I'd soar.
I live in echoes of the past.
Which from the grave are to me cast,
I.ike phantoms on the midnight shore.
When hope would come, a weight is here,
Which crushes pride and scatters tear;
For hope's misgivings bring distress
None ean explore.
To Ihy tar heights with thee I'd rise,
With soul nnrhnined;
To that domain beyond the sky,
Beyond the cloud* that on me lie,
Beyond what thought has e'er attained.
Oh! there falls a sheen of golden light,
Chaning sway the pensive night;
It blends with ray* of milder glow
And hears me from this world below.
Till faith's maintained.
Hugh F. Mr Drrmait.
MEG.
Margaret Nealo, a girl of twenty or
thereabouts, sat on a low, broad stone
at the edge of the cliff that overhung the
sea. li i features were irregular, hut
the had a certain dark, gypsy-tike beauty
of her own. Her hands were clasped
ahout her kneeu; there was a hard, set
look about the unsmiling mouth; and
the eye*, that were sometime* most ten
der, had a dangerous light in them it*
they gazed steadfastly off over the dark
wiing sea to a distant horizon, Rtill red
with the reflected glow of the sunset.
At a little distance, hut with hi* hack
toward her. and hi* steel-blue eye* just
as steadfastly bent in the opposite direc
tion, stood Matthew Erickson, a hand
some young fellow enough, in the rough
Areas of a miner, tall, strong and ruddy,
with full, curling, chestnut heard, and
tuiir of the same rich color. A blue rib
bon dangled from his left hand.
Them had evidently been a quarrel,
and a love quarrel in a straggling min
ing hamlet on the northwest coast of
England does not dlflfcr grently from one
m a scattered fishing hamlet on the east
ern coast of Maine. Form* of .speech
may differ, but love and anger are much
the. nnii! the wide world over.
Tired of the silence at length, the
young miner sauntered away with an air
mt assumed indifference, and picking up
a handful of nebbles. slowly tossed them,
ne by one. into the waves below. Mar
garet's eye* did not waver, but none the
Sam did *he follow every motion of his
Rand. Having watched the fall of his
Ail pi bble, lie came back and stood be-
liin<l her, winding tin* ribbon round his
finger to iU evident detriment.
"So you will not wear it, Meg. he
Raid at flist. . . ...
"No. 1 will not,"heanswered. with
out turning iter head. "Why do you
vex tno? There's no more to bo mud
about it."
"Hut why. Meg?" and he laid his
hand on lior shoulder an witli an at
tempt at reconciliation. "Tdlmowhy.
Surely you can do no less."
"Because- because I can't abide blue,
Matt Erickson. It's hateful to me."
"llutl like it. Meg! and if you eared
for me you would be glad to wear a blue
ribbon to the fair when 1 ask it."
"Why did you buy it?" site asked
shortly, turning toward him by a hair's
breadth. Not to please me, that's sure."
" Yes, to please you and to t> lease
myself. Jenny wears ribbons an blue as
her own eyes, and I am sure you cannot
say they are not pretty. You are just
stubborn, Meg."
l'oot Matt! In his uneducated, mas
culine blindness he could not see that
the delicate color that harmonized so
wdl with his pretty cousin's pink and
white checks and sunny curls was utterly
unsuited to his brown Meg, wholesaled
rich dark hues and warm rials to
brighten her somewhat swarthy com
plexion
And |" >r Meg! She hail an instinctive
sense of in,less that taught her this, but
she was not wise enough to know how
to explain it to her somewhat imperious
lover. She could not say she " hated
him!"
Besides, Meg had carried a sore spot
in her heart for two months; ever
since this same cousin Jenny of Mali's
came on a visit to Bysdyk. She was a
dimpled, delicate little creature from the
south—from near Ixindon, in fact —
where, as Meg w'as very certain, every
thing was nicer and liner than in isinca
shire. Jenny had sweet little coaxing
ways with her, and she was always pur
ring around her cousin Matt like • kit
ten; and—and she wore blue riblxgis!
Meg would none of them.
She sat for a moment as if turned to
stone. Then she blazed out:
"'JennyP Jeuyf I am tir i of
•Jenny!' Site has turned your head
with her flirting ways lik* a butterfly,
and her yellow hair and I, r finery,
(live your blue ribbon to her, and tafc<
her to the fair—for I'll not wear it."
'• At.d you'Jl not go to the t r, eitlo r?"
said Matt, in tones of suppros- ,1 passion
" Is that what you mean?"
" I'll not go with you," she answered,
growing cool herself as she grew angry.
"Yet it's likely enough that I may go.
Theri'arc plenty of lads who would be
glad to take me with no ribbons at all."
With a strong effort the young man
nut the curb upon bis tongue, but bis
lace darkened. " You will go with me
or no one, Meg," he said. "This is all
nonsense—and we to be married next
Michaelmas? But come," and In* put
out his hand to raise le*r from the stone;
" it grows dark."
Meg, still angry but willing to Ik*
pacified if she must, allowed him to
assist her, and stood beside her stalw rt
lover with burning cheeks and down
east eyes. She rather liked, on the
whole, his tacit refusal to defend him
self and his master fill way of bj'ing In r
it was "all nonsense." But just at this
moment, as ill-luck would have it, a
small brown-paper parrel dropped from
the folds of her shawl. Matt stoop*d to
pick it up. It burst open and a yard or
two of scarlet ribbon rippled over his
fingers.
Now our poor Meg, not to be outdone
by the fair Jenny, hail bought this ril>-
bon herself that very evening, meaning
to wear it to the fair next week. But it
so happened that when Matt went to
Mother Marley's shop to buy his own
blue love-token in*had found l>an Willis
there—the only man in Bysdyk whose
rlvalship he had ever feared. And Pan
was buying a ribbon precisely like this.
Mother Mariey had wrapj**d it in this
very piece of paper, Mait was sure, and
he had seen Pan put ft in his pocket
and walk off with it.
And now, here it was! His gift was
spumed, then, and his rival's accepted;
and all Meg's talk nlxiut Jenny was a
m* o* subterfuge—an excuse for a quar
rcl
Yet if she would not wear his love
token she certainly should not wear
Dan's. He hardly meant to do it; he
was sorry the next minute. But what
he did, as the tide of passion swept him
off his feet for an instant, was to wind
the two ribbons into a knot and throw
them vehemently into the *<•.
"There!" he cried, " that's settled
once for all."
" And something else is settled to. Matt
Erickson." retorted Meg, in a white
heat. " There'll he no marriage for u
next Michaelmas, no marriage (lienor
ever! You would strike me some day.
for nught I know, if I should choose to
wear a red knot rather than abiue. I'll \
not run tkc/iik. I'll have nothing more
to ay to you while the stars shine." and
darting round the cliff, she was half way
down to thehearhlsifore hoover thought
of stopping her.
The next day Erickson, magnani
mous. great-hearted fellow that he was,
after all, having gotten over Ids quarrel
from Meg's stanilpolnt, it oceurrod to
hiin that he might nave drawn uncalled
for inference*. Pan Willis might have
a dozen sweethearts who all liked red
ribbon* for augbt he knew. And how
like a fool ho had behaved, losing his
temper like a hot-headed boy and throw
ing Meg's poor little trinkets over the
eliff No wonder she wns afraid to
trust him. More than one husband in
Bysdyk was in the Imbit of beating hi*
wife 00 as slight provocation as tie- hue
of a ribbon ; and it was not strange that
a high-spirited girl like Meg should de
cline to run the risk after she had MM
seen him In a fury.
As for Jenny, she hail came in be
tween him and Meg. He could see it
now. But she was going home the day
after the fair, and he would see Meg that
very night and tell her so. For he did
not dream that all was indeed over l>e
tween them. He could hardly wait for
the hour to leave the mine.
He changed his soiled clothes, ate his
supper hurriedly, and was soon on Ids
way to Meg, stopping as he went to buy
another ribbon—red this time, and
broader and richer and handsomer than
the one he hail robbed her of.
Then lie went on through the crooked,
m-attered little village tillhe reached the
Widow Ncale's cottage, just on the out
skirts.
To his surprise he found the door
locked and the shutters closed. As he
stood in his perplexity, a white-haired
urchin who was turning nbmersaults
near by shouted; " Ho, you. Matt Erick
s n! it's no good to wait ther; the
widow and Meg have gone away."
"(lone? Where?"
"Don't know. To France, like
enough —or to Atneriky —or to Lon
don —or somewhere*. Dhey took a big
box and a bundle, and they don't know
hut they'll at iy forever'n ever. Meg
said so," and, making a rotating wheel
of himself, tlie Iml vanished round the
corn or.
Just then the door of the nearest cot
tage Opened and a woman's lace looked
out. It was growing dark.
"Is it you, Ei ickson! There's
no one at home in tlie house there.
Hut I have something here that I was to
give you when you eame this way."
His face was stem nnd set and white
in the fading light as he took tlx* little
packet fr*i:n the woman's hand.
" Where h; vo they gone?" wus all lie
said.
"I don't just know. To visit some of
their kinfolk a great way off," tlx*
widow said. "Oil, hut she's a elose
mouthed one, six' is—an*l Meg's a hit
like her. They're not gossipy folk.
You never get much out of them," she
added, with an injured air.
As soon as he was out of sight
Matthew Eriekson opened the packet,
lb* knew what was in it before he un
tied the knot—a string of curiously
carved beads witli a strange, foreign,
spicy odor, that lie had bought or a
wandering sailor and fastened around
Meg's neck one happy night, and two or
three other trilbs no had given h**r.
And In* found this note slowlv and pain
fully written, badly Snellen, perhaps,
anil not punctuated at all. Hut what of
that? Tlx* meaning was plain enough *,
all too plain. Matt thought, as lx* drew
It is hand across his eyes as if to clear
his vision:
" I gave you ha* k vour troth last
night. 11 ere are the heads, and the
silver piece, and tlx* heron feathers.
Now all la over between us." H* r<* six*
had evidently hesitated a moment, won
dering if her words were strong enough;
for, on the line* below she hod written,
us with an echo front the prayer-book
reverberating in lx*r ears:
"Forever and forever, ntixn. Mar
garet Ne.alc,"
Not Meg, hi M**g, his proud, hi_*h
spiritedsweetlx*art--hut Margaret Ncale!
It set lu r at such an immeasurable dis
tarn i' from him. " All is ov**r b* tw*en
us." As if were dead and buried oat
of hi** sight. Ami lx* had spoken to.Jain**s
Hay alsiut the snug cottage beyon*l tlx*
hav: and they were to have been man led
at Mielnu'lmiui!
He knew enough of tlx* Widow N**al**'s
habits to oak no more questions of the
neighbors. As on** of tlx in had said, six*
was olose-moutlx-d. H** kn* w she ha*l a
sister living in Scotland, f**r whom M* g
was named ; but when.* *r*n he did not
know. Si'otlnnd tt*as lik*- a distant for
eign land to the people in ltysdyk. Hut
the widow )ia*l tnon**y **n*>ugli t* go to
Scotland .r farther if six* wished, oven
on short notice. She had never work* *1
in tlx* mines, neither had M**g Six* ha*l
a eeimfortahle annuity, left Iwrhyher old
mistr' -s; for she ha*l >* rve<i in a great
family h* fore she had married John
N*a!<*.
Month after month pa.--* *l. Mi* ha* !-
mas was over, winter eame and went,
and Ky-dyk knew no n.ore •f her or of
M'*;* than when they left. The silence,
the void, grew unendurable to Matt.
With the early spring he <arri'*l into
*-fleet wliat hiul h***n tlx* one dream of
his life b fore lie l<-.orn**d to love M**g.
America was the land of promise for
miners as well as oilers, an*' ha*l he not
a fri*'n*l who worked in tlx great ir**n
mine-at Idij-cming, Mi* liigi.n, <*n the
shores of tlx* won*!* rfui Northern lab**
tliat was iUelf almost as large as all
England ?
So when on** lin*- morning, nearlv a
year aft* r her sudden (lining, tlx* n* igh
iars awoke to find the door of Widow
Scale'* cottage ajar nnd tlx* sliu'.t* r*
open, the first bit ol news heard
was that Matt Eriekson had gone to
America.
It struck her lik* a blow. Now. in
deed, lx* had dropped out of her life as
utterly as, months sin* e. lie had dropped
out of hi*. For slie, t* HI, hxl h.*ul time to
r**fH*n(. Almost Ix-fore the blue bills *I
Si of!and had dawned upon hersight -he |
liail repi o'esi in <lust *nn*l a-lt**s How
f'Htlish six* ha*i lss-n. lik** a chiid who
throw saw y hi*!"r* a<l in ap* t and g•*<•* j
to bed hi;i *ry. Why had sh** ne*t w* ni
tlx blu* litle>n to please her lover, **v**n 1
if she did not like it> As for Jenny—but,
what nonsense was that' She would have
1m . a ashamed of Matt if lx* had not ! *n I
kind to lx*r.
To be sure, in* iia*l Isrn cross nnd hid
thrown awn her ribbon. But then lie
was a man. nnd men w**re strong and
masterful and could n*t bear contradic
tion. nnd she had angered him by h* r
foolish p rsistein *.
Ah! If six* could hut und** It all. and
have her tall, bmv**, handsome lover
back agnin!
Six* would have tu. Ned r'*un*l and rem'
lw* k to Kysdyk tlx* scry next day if she
could have had her say. Hut a journey
was a journey to people of their rank and
condition, nnd h* r inotlier, who had
tak* n it to ph**'* h**r, and somewhat
against lx*r own will, s s not to lx*
blown about !ik* *i f**atli I hj lx r SO**
prices.
Hut why, d< you ask. did not M**g
write to IxT lover, if six felt six* had
Is'en in tin* wrong? And why did no
wiser ones than she nlwax • do the best
tiling, the right thing? lb sides, site wa*
a woman, and a proud on* After hav
ing di*. n**ded Iter lover *!• * would not
foi tliwitli fall at his feet ami ask him to
marry IXT. But, nil! she (bought A* tlie
long, slow days s* ore on, if *becould but
look upon Ids face onc more, he would
know all without the telling.
Once in a while, as the y< irs went on.
at rare intervals news of hint caiue ho* k
to ltysdyk. He was well; he hixl fair
wages, though gold was not to lie hail for
tlx* gathering in America any more than
in England; lia had b***n promoted and
hod charge of a gang of m* n. At length
there was a long interval of silence.
Then eame ffonting niuiois of ill; and
then afti*r a while a l*'tt**r in a strange
hnndwriting. a letter to hi* un**le, who
hail died three weeks ltefore it eame.
There hail been a had accident in the
mines—an explosion; and in the effort to
save other*. Matthew Eri' kson hnd him
self receiveil dangerous injuries. No one
thought he cob id live. But now. after
months, he was slowly recovering. If re
covery It could lie called—for lie was
blind. Tise poisonous vapor had de
stroyed iiis sight.
It was five years since lie went away—
five years that had brought many change*
to Meg, It was a sobered, thoughtful
woman, not a hot tempered girl, who
knelt by tlie Widow Neale's side a week
after tlie letter eame, and said:
" Mother, have I been a good faithful
child to you these many years?" Her
mother looked at her womh ringlv. Two
quiet women living alonu, tlicy were not
In tlie habit of being over demonstra
tive.
"A good child? Why do you ask
that, M**g? There's tmt abetter in all
Isuieasbiret"
" Have I ever vexed you or given you
sorrow ? Tell me, mother."
" No," said tin! Widow Neale slowly
"only—it vexes mi- that you will not
marry ; an old maid's no good, and you
know that two of tin* heat men in Ilys
dyk worship tin* v< ry ground you tread
on this day. 1 call no nam*** and I nay
nothing. A woman must answer for
herself. 1 wish you were married, Meg.
I've saved up a good penny for your
dowry; v<>u know that. •
" Yes," she said, her lips quivering.
"Whatever was the reason you did not
have Matt Eriekson?" her mother went
on querulously. "You'd been a proud
wife now, and lie here hale and hearty."
Willi a quick gasp Meg threw Up both
artUH, and then buried her face in her
mother's lap, sobbing vehemently, while
the latter sot aghast, frightened at the
storm she had unwittingly raised. At
last she touched her daughter's hair
Softly.
" Don't, Meg," she said, " I
tnean It 1"
Hut Meg on I v drew the wring!* d hands
alrout In r neck, and let her tears flow
uneheeked. At length she looked up.
" It was I who drove him away—Matt
j Eriekson," she said. "We Inula little
quarrel, just a few idle words about a
ribbon, and I told him in my silly anger
I would have no more to say to him
while the stars shone. And now they
■ln not shine for him, for In* is blind—
blind. Oh, mother, I cannot live, I
cannot Ixsir it!"
"Yin, you will live, child," the widow
'answered, quickly. "Your father was
brought in to me dead—killed in those
mines wher. you were searee three years
<*ld. my Meg, and I ion alive yet."
" Hut this is worn* than death," she
cried, passionately. "Mother, do y**u
hear? He who was my p!ighl<d hus
band is blind, in a far. strange country.
I mus*. go and bring liitn home, liorni'to
Kysilyk."
Site had risen from In r mother'* arms
and stood before Iter in the moonlight,
pal**, resolute, with her hands clasped
rigidly. "(live in*- niy dowry, mother,
and l**t me IJO." slu* said. "Do not deny
me tliis tiling. I am well and strong,
and. if I do say it. I am *iui*k wittcd.
I can make my way; I shall eoine ha**k
H.af* ly. I>*l me go, motlu'r!"
"It is not your place, Meg. I/ t som*
on** "IM* go."
" Who? Tell m' that' Has lie fatter
or brother or uncle? Who U then* to
go?"
"Hut—lt's not right ma nlv to oil
afer a lover, M**g. What v,, lie folks
say? And—would y*>u marry a hlin*l
tnan ?"
" Maiilenly! It is maidenly to do
right," slid Meg, her brown cheek flu-h
-ing. "What do I ear** for tlie folk*-'
I'm not a young girl to drop my cy* < nnd
•)*■ sham* c,| liceauv folks w ill talk.
Th'*y always talk. And as for marrying
—it is not of marriage I am thinking
now; it is of bringing Matt Eriekson—
In* whom I drove away with my ill
dciirigs—back safe to his own **ountry—"
She hesitated a moment and then w*nl
*>n: "Hut I'll not play f;'.<- withyou,
mother. He'll not a.-k m** to marry
him. Hut I -hall know. If he want*
me. after all that's pasxd, lie shall have
me. and I'll Lakeenr* of him till I di**."
Tin ir talk lasted far into the night.
Hut with it we have n*> more to do. nor
the details by which a little money was
made to gr a great way. For, after
many tear-, til** widow eon- ntM that
.M< g should t ik* lu r dowry and spend it
a- sic ehse. If tli**y hod b* n more
worldly-wise they would have known
liow tone* oniplish their purposs tliroiigh
ill** agency of others. A it was. tiny
saw no other way than for M* g to do
h< rseif T !>•■ thing Ml<* want* *! dau.
oli.that weary,w*-ary Journey! Why
w is the world so wide, tlx* way so long'
M**g h* pi up a bras• be.art imntil tlx*
lxiist*T*>us ocean was crossed an*l she
had made h*T way as fur as Ituffalo,
where she hn*l b* en told to take the
st< ,am* r f**r Marquette. It d enied L*>
lur that she had trnveled the width ol
the whole wile earth already -inia h**r
fiMil first fell upon tin soil of til** strange
new worid.
"Is tliis l/k* ■superior. *ir?" she
asked of a po.i* < i *n. as el." 1* ft the
< urs nn*l saw t! • water of Ioko Eric
stretching away in tlx* distan*e. " An*l
ean v*u tell me. a: we near Ishpem
ing?"
" Dli, no, my giil; this is Krie, Lake'
Sup* ri**r is away up north, hundreds of
mii**s from here — Ishp'-ming. Never
heard of u**h n place. Hut here's your
Meaner, if you'r* iroing up that wav."
li*-r heart sank lik*' lead. Would six*
ever, ever reach the end? Ail day, nnd,
•lay after day. she sat silently in tie how
of the hnt. gazing steadily forward!
It Was Ilk" n n**w hirtll when, after
inany days, th*- steamer * 1 the
beautiful Itayof Marquette, olid * x fair
young i lly me ltcfore h**r wtoni bed |
eyes, its white cliffs gleaming in th* un.
it<gr> < tt -hor - sweeping downward to
th** w.i*' r's (d|*. She was n** 1* i ;;oal j
at ! a
For Istipcming was about fit **cn miles j
.away up the railroad, and tbitli r she
weni ly the lin-l train How roui;h an*l
wil*i it all wa*l And how the < .arred ;
and til i k< n* *1 pine tr s tower. *1 aloft
like grim giants, ami point <1 their j
ghastly ling* r. at h* r a* she swept
through their aoiitude'
" Can you t*il in** lore t*. ffnd ■* nan 1
called Matthew Eriekson ?" she >). d of
the depot-master, trembling from head
to foot.
" Eriekson 1 Kriel. - >n? Hlown un j
in the min**s a year or so n*n, *** nt '
he? He stays at Snni AynV. tie Kn- j
glisliman's, 1 beli* IP. .fusty** go ar* und
that corner, nia'atn. itien turn to the j
right nnd go up the hill—or stay! I>*t;
me lock up nml I'll go with you. Ever ,
b'S'ti in Islqw ming l.rfor ? X*? I
thought you look's! like a stran;;* r in
then port*."
Il<* Jolt her at Sam Ayres' gate, having
opened it gallantly when lie saw that
her cold lingers were unfit to do her
bidding. A kindly-f iced wmnan came
to tin* door and bade lu*r w**leoine.
MegV story was soon told.
" And you have come all this long
way to take Eriekson home again?" her
eyes filling. " God bless you, dear, for
I'm sure He sent you. We've done the
best we could for him, hut j*>u are his
sister P"
" No, I'm a friend—a neighbor. There
was no one else," she said, simply.
" What's your name? I'll tell him."
"No matter about my narue; say a
friend from the old country."
The woman came back presently.
" Be careful," she said, " lie's weak
yet. Hut I want to tell you something
just to keep your heart up. for he looks
like a ghost. There was a great doctor
from New York up here fast week to
look at Ills poor eyes, ami lie told Sam
there was a chance for him yet—just
one chance in a hundred."
" Does lie know it?" asked Meg,
tremuiouaiy, her color coming and go
ing. She was but a woman, after all.
Only blindness would have brought her
there.
"No, and you must not toll hitu. The
doctor said so most particularly. Will
you go up now?"
Ho had been sitting in the sun by the'
window all day brooding. They had
jieen very kind to him. these people,
hut kindness wears itself out after
awhile. What was to become of him?
The wages he had laid up were wasting
away. The early northern wint*T would
soon set in. He shivered tie he thought
or the ll* roe winds, the pitiless, drifting
snows. Tlier was nothing a blind man
could do h* If he won- only at home
in Kyre I*! Would Meg be sorry for
him, h* wondered, if she knew how
de- it*, he was, how lonely in this
strange land? If he were at home It*
could learn to weave baskets like old
Timothy. Here lie was just a dead
weight.
"Borne one to see him from the old
country?'
He turned his sightless eyes toward
the door when M* g was entering no!so
less as a spirit, and Ids foe** kindled
eagerly. Noiselessly she closed the door
Ixhirnl h* r. ll** was so changed, so
white an*l worn, that her own heart
stopped its pulsations for a moment.
She fear<'ilitny sudden shock might over
come him. She dared not speak lest lie
should know her voice. Stnuige that
ill** had not thought of tliis before!
He put out hishand vaguely, f* * ling
tin* presence he could not s* <■.
" V*iii are very welcome," he said.
"Hut I do n<*t know who it is Who
an- sou?"
HD thought it was some kindly Eng
lishman, who having heard of his mis.
fortunes had come to stpcak a v, iof
cheer and comfort.
Sin- gave him her hand, still silently.
A woman's hand ! Asw ift thrill shot
through Ids frame and his face flushed.
Holding horse 11 still with a nighty
'fr*>rt. Meg knelt ly hi- -ide, laying her
hand upon his kn* **.
His hand tnii* led i.* r hair, h* r lore,
head, h* r lip**. She gave a low cry,
trembling like a Imf.
"Speak to me, quick," It* whispered,
hoarsely.
" Matt 1"
"Oh, M* ;. my M**g!"— Sunday AfUr-
TUX/'l.
Escort* as a Branch of trade.
Among tlie many new and peculiar
aid - to material comfort in tli** metro
polis. writ*** a New York < orr<-spond<*nt,
no sing'*- one eontrihut* - nior* at a cheap
er rate than tlx* li*-tri**t telegraph sys
tem. It Includes, as you doubtless
know, a messenger, police an*l lire mr
vice, hut it also inelud* > an cs<*ort ser
vice, wlii*h i* comparatively little
known, which, as it is for tlie special
us** and behoof **f unprotected women,
ought t** b** widely un*l* rstood. Sup
pose a lady * luuxe to stay ov* r night In
town ami d* sir* to goto tlx* tlx at* r or
opera, hut ha- no one to alt* n*l I ■r.
Six* simply lea\ her address and f it
the near'st district t**! .-r atili <<fTi> * . *1
at tlx* proper time n w< .i-dr* -sed. well
mannered man pres'nts him- I, and
tak' s her to tlx* play-house, buying the
tiok**t.s, paying * ar fares. <te.. f,,r which
six* of course, supplies tlx* funds. Tlie
man i- quiet and modest, and in no
possible way distinguished from tlie
lady's husband, brother or friend; so
that, M> far as ail pra thai aid is <*on
cenxal. six* is just as well off as if h**r
natural guardians w* re with lx*r. At
ftr-t gbin**e it might h* supposed ther*
W**ul*l be little need of any U* h ser
vice; hut in a gr* at c ity lik** N* w* York
Ui'Ti* or** liundn-ds and thousands of
w**m who have n*> man Is longlng to
them, and who must either stay at home
or put themselves to tl annoyance of
taxing tlx* good will of somebody upon
whom they have no n-eognD'-d claim.
Tin fact that this bran* h of tlx* district
service is grow ing constantly and steadi
ly si. .w's how great tlx* n* <4 of it
here.
Washington in Tears,
Washington hod accepted an invita
tion from Arnold to breakfast with him
<•11 the very day the plot was di- ov. red,
but was prevenb-d from k*-pin • his * n
gag'inent by what men < ;ll chance—by
the earnest nvjuest. namely, of an old
officer,near who-** s.ition tin vpa -*-d.
to s)>end tlx* night lh*r* and inspect
some works in tlx* neigiilM>rli< <>* l. N* vt
day while Washington, with his staff,
in !"dir* Lafaytt* . were sealed at
tab.* .1 * bis offi.-* r's quarters, a dispatch
w- - brought to the American general,
wnii hlx immediately opened and r-a*l;
tlx n iaid it down without comment. No
ab -a:'**n w:is visible in his count* nance,
but lie remained perfectly silent. C*n
versaUon droppnl among his -uib*: nn*l
after some niinut* • the g* nera', lx- k<>n
ing l. ifay* ;te to follow liim. pas*si t<* an
inixr apartment, turnd to his young
friend without utt "ring a syllable, iilac-d
tl fatal dispatch in his hands, and then
giving >y loan tin- ivcrnable bur.-t of
fe**iing, fell on his ne k and soldx-d
aloud. The eff** i producod on the
young Fr*neli Marquis, accu-toni*d to
n n.iid bi-g* n**ral (*ail*l and digniffesl in
his usual manner) as devoid of the usual
w**akn*- • of liuniinitv. iuy 1v im
agincd. " I believe." said Ijtfayette, in
rviaiing litis anecdote, "that this was
tlx* only occasion throughout tlie long
and sonirtimis hopeless struggle that
Washington ever gave way, even for a
moment, under a reverse of fortune;
and. p* rhaps. I was the only human
who ever witixwsed in iiiin an ex
hibition of fcclin* *• loreiirn to Ids t* ni
penunent. As it wn.*. lie reeiversj ie.
r*re I had perusial the communication
that had given rise to his emotion ; and
when we returnen to his staff not a trace
remained on his countenance cither
of grief or despondency."—/.t/e/H-j *.7 i's
Maymirw,.
How Gen. Milelds was Gnred.
Tlie late Gen. Shields, at the battle of
C* n*o flonio, in Mexico, was severely
wound *1 while lesding his men. hut lie
refused to quit th*> Held. He advanced
to the charge, when he was strut k in
the chest by a copper graneshot that
passed through his lungs, lie toll into
t lie arms of Oglcsby, *t present United
States Senator from Illinois, and was
carried from tlio battlefield to all ap
pearances lifeless. Obituary notices ap
peared afterword in nearly all tin* pap* i s
of the country, so convinced were the
brother officer* of the impossibility of
Ids surviving such a terrible wound.
For weeks he lay at the brink of death
in the neighborhood of the battlefield,
and liis cure seems little short of a mir
acle. The army surgeons had gl T en him
over for death when a Mexican doctor
said lie would live If he would let him
remove the coagulated blood fn>.u the
wound. Shields, as a kilt ur cure reme
dy. told him to try, and a fine silk hand
kerchief was worked In and finally
drawn through the wound, removing
the extravasnnt blood, when daylight
could be seen through the hole, lie
lived to lie a hale and hearty man, from
disease or anv inconvenience from
the wound, which was considered at thai
1 time mortal.
TIMELY TOPICN.
A thorough test of the power, r/tt and
comparative advantage* of the electric
light In to la- nutd" in the Capitol build
ing at \\ asfaington, and three machini*
for the purpose have already b(*n pur
chased. It is also proposed to place a
light at the Humrnit of the dome of nu< h
power a- to illuminate a large portion of
thecity.
It i* staled that at Christiana and at
Stockholm, Sweden, the polite arrest
rmn who, in the street* and place* of
pl'-aaure rinort*. indulge in the habit of
Purming, addressing anil annoying wo
men who freely circulate there. Such
offi ndern are made to pay a fine of twen
ty-live kroner (equal to about nix dol
lar*) and their name, rinidencc and pro
f --ion are published in all the journal*
und>rthe hed of "Dinturber* of th
I ewe of \t iiinen." It i* needle** to nay
that the public .-harm* thu* incurred i*
now vi ry much shunned by men, and
many would willingly nay. if tin y were
allowed, a large -uni of money to be per
mitted to ••scape.
( urine, an Italian gymna*t, well-known
from hi* f ate with a eharged wooden
cannon, wan lifting it from it* stand,
during a recent exhibition in Cervia,
when it fell, mouth downward. The •
gyinn.ut. with the rapidity of lightning,
• ndeavored to break tiie Hun k so a* to
prevent the weapon'* exploding. hut he
wa* un*u'<•!•. ful; the eoneuasion fired
the piece, and a* the charge could not
emerge, the cannon hurst. Carlo* died
almoat immediately TbeeowtermtkNi
and horror among the spectators at thi*
frightAl icRM wll e inteniw; only one of
them v. .. woundid, liowe ,< r, although,
tlie splinters of the cannon were driven
als'tit in every direction.
\ r- • '-i)t r< vi' v, ot Iturmi * troop* i*
thu* d seritssl hv an < ye-witness : "The
iiumlx r of in; n drawn up on th< parade
ground was five thou and. including in
fantry and < rivalry, in addition to which
tlei- were eighty-live elephantH. Th
infantry looked like &> many monkey*;
for *i/s and soldi' r!y Is aring tle y are
utt< rly eoiiti mptilo' . The cavalry were
mounted upon thin and puny ponies.
'1 le • ins ol th( elephant battery w< r<■ of
no great< r bore than the common Eng
li*h die k gun. The Jturmiwe were im
mensely excited over thejr warlike din
play hut it would Is-difficult to jmagin*
nnyi.iing more ridiculous than such a
.it to any one with the slightest ac
•jUainlanc. with the armies of Europe ."
President Eliot, of Harviird College,
at the dinner of tie W i -.v!ni*ctt Med
ea; Society of llnntoti, called the atten
tion of tie- niemlx-r* of Uie aociety to cer
tain peculiar di-ease* prevalent among
tie student* of Harvard College. He
had found thal.in tin senior class (if two
hundred voting nun. forty-two suffer so
sev( rely /rem di- :w< -of tucnose. throat
and lung- that it is impossible, in the
oj inion ofm( mbTs oftlu Masaa husctte
Medical Society, tor them to go to pray
er-: and a peculiar feature of the disease
is that the -vine m-mbcr* of the society
certify that it would tie dangerous for
them to go to prayers for six months to
come. Another "peculiarity i* that the
di- a. • app*|( fitly ir. n axes tie e.nger
the student Jatt- nils college, for while
only ten per (<i,ium of the freshmen are
afflicted, twenty-one jer centum of th*
others are. Still another peculiarity of
the disease is that it exist* only a few
moment* in the day. and always almut
the *anii time: it Hoes not rrcvi-nt th*
patient* ftotn going to their meals, rven
though the prayer bell is ringing at th*
auic time; it does not prevent their at
t- nding recitation- ; they can even go to
the theater and ride out home in the
hore-ear late at right in mid-wintere
tin v can row in the boat*, plav baso-
IKI 11. and (vi n-ing in the glee cfub. It
is known that the disease exist*, how
ever, for it is certified to by members of
the M i- .u husett* Medical Society.
Word- of Wisdom.
Men's muscles move letter when their
soul* are making merry music.
Mar. ha* to gc out and seek his path;
woman's path usually lie* clone under her
feet.
Wlcn people"* fi-oing* have got *
•badly wound they can't be cured by
favors.
Pleasure i* the no re accident of our
being, and work it* mo*t natural and
holy necessity.
S-'inte persons move tluxnigh life as *
band of music move* down the street,
flinging out pleasure on every side
through the air to every one, far and
near, that can'* to listen.
If all wire a* willing to be pleasant
and as anxious to please in their own
home- a- they an in the company o
their neighbors they would have th*
happiest home* in the world.
T inn of the greatest calamity nnd <-on
fii-ion have i vcr Ixsn productive of the
grraUet mind*. The purest ore comet
from the hottest furnace; the brightest
fl.i-h from the darkest eloud.
Our eyesight is the most exquisite of
our arose*. yet it docs not serve us to
discern wisdom; if it did what aglow
of love would she kindle within tis and
wlioour live* would be beautified.
flood word* do more than hard
speeches; a* the sunlieams without any
noise will make the traveler cast off hi*
cloak, which *ll the blustering wind*
could not do, hut only make him draw .
it closer to him.
The indnst-ion* bee don* not stop to
complain that there are so many poison
ous flowers and thorny branches in the
nad, but hu KM* on. selecting the
honey whore she can find it and paw
ing hy the place where It 1* not.
On the Mar Path.
They were cn the march toward
Capua, to meet the revolted lAt in trilw*.
tliuse wicked people wlio talked in six
ca*e* and more exception* than conjunc
tion. and who were named after the
iAtin grammar, when tiie consul. Man
iiu* Torquatu*. remark'd to hi* col
league ;
" I should hate to marry a girl whose
father Is dead. Ixvause my lungs aren't
very good anyhow, and I would hare to
Mtli-ma for her."
" And rou think you'd need the old
man's inffuenxy, heyr* replied Ibviu*.
"Oh. a* to thai." said Manlius. "I
wouldn't need it *o very lung."
" No." rejoined the menH. "but yon
wouldn't want to throat away for all
that P"
" Indeed not," said Manlius, " Uiat
would be no choke."
" No. Uiere's no Inspiration in it."
The consul made one or two ineffectual
effort* to get ia something on the bron
chial tubes, but fai ed Ignominioosly,
and IH-clus. laughing at his failure,
laughingly snng, "Tommy, make croup
fir your uncle. It U thought that this
had something to do with Docius' death
the following day.— Hurlmgton Hmtoheye