The Patchwork tjuilt. In ahe >ti of silken splendor, With glittering threads f tedd, I'v.' HC. n the waving marvels That hung in walls of old; When fair hands wrought the lily, \ml hrave hands held the lanee, Viel stately lords ami ladies Btepp< I through the courtly dan en. I've liKiked im rarer fabrics, The wimilim of the loom. That eaught the flowora of Munimer. And ( active held their bloom; lint not their wreathing lH'auty, Though tit for queens to wear, fan willi one household treasure. That's all my own compare. It has no goldtn valni ," Tin- sltuplo imtehwork spread; Its flf|iuirc* in homely fashion. Net in with green and red: Hut ill those faded pieces For me are shining bright. Ah! many a summer morning, And many o winter night. Tlie d wy breath of clover. The. leaping liglit of flame, I .ike ■ |M lis my lieart came over, As one by 010 I name These bits of old-time dr. *so* Chintz, eambrie, calico . Tlia'. I'siked so ft sli and dainty On my darling long ago, Tiiis violet was my mother's; I iterm to see her face. That ever like sunshine Lit up the shadiest place. This bull ls-lotig.il to Hunan, That scarlet s|sit was mine; And Fanny wore this pearly white, Where piirph j-ansics shine. 1 turn ray patehwork over A Lsik witli luctured leav Ami I feel tlie lilac fragrance, Ami the snow-fall on the eaves. Of all my heart's possession*, I think I least could spare Tlie quilt we ehildr- n pieced at home, I When mother di ar was there. The Fisher's Daughter. High tide,with In antiful whitc-crcsted waves breaking on the shingle, a blue sky reflected on the Itosoin of the waters, and the honest, bronze-faced fishermen busily mending their nets and smoking their pijie-t after their mid day meal. One of the oldest and most re |>ooted of thorn all is Matthew Golding, whose genial countenance and cheerful good hninor renders him a general favorite j among his comrades, and he was looked np to and esteemed by one and all. He had been a widower for many years— his wife slept in the chnrchyard on the top of the hill, and within its sacred walls Matthew Guiding worshiped even* Hundav, his honest face lighting up at the good old rector's words, that told him of the, home of peace and rest ; after liis earthly toil was done, A girl is standing near the break water and looking out at sea, her even shaded with her hand. A girl with a pretty, graceful figure, and simply yet tastefully clad; her hair, worn in two j thick plaits, reaches Wlow her Waist, ! and her whole appearance is worthy an artist's study. She is Matthew Holding's daughter •the pride of her father's heart and the belle of the littlo fishing village. Her father, as he sits mending his net, lifts tip his eyes ever and anon to gaze at his pretty daughter, and with the glance a shade falls across his usually pleasant face. Heated near him, busied in the same seen put ion as himself, is a young man, dressed also in the garb of a fisherman, and to him Matthew turns and sjieaksof her who is leaning on the breakwater. " She is as love-sick as she can lie, I tell yon, Mark, and I don't like it at all, for I don't believe as Mr. Carleton means any good to her." "Hhe is certainly very much changed," ■ replies the younger fisherman, with a sigh. "I know she cared for mo once, j but it don't seem to make much differ ence to her now whether I am ashore or not." "Ever since last spring he's been a dangling at her heels," continues old Matthew, "and I don't sec what's to eome of it. 8110 has never been a willful lass, or acted contrary to my wishes; but it seems as if she had lost her head as well at her heart, too. There, don't be down-hearted, lad, she'll come to her senses by-and-bye, and see her folly; rest well assured of that." Mark Fenton made no answer, but his fingers trembled once or twice as he wont on with his work ; and a drop of salt water, to which lie had long lieeti a stranger, fell upon his hand. From his earliest boyhood he had learned to love his pretty playfellow, Hetty Golding, and for nearly two years now she had Wen his promised wife. But in the early spring of the year of which we are writing, Dudley Carleton —a youth with more money than brains —had come to spend a fow months in the little fishing town, where the sweet, graceful figure of Hetty Golding had enchanted him. > Nothing was pleaaanier to young Carleton than to flatter this simple maiden, and whisper love-words in hei ear, as meauihglce# as they were subtle. To ready a listener proved Helty Golding, and she, inflated with lite no tion of (toon becoming "a lady" and Dudley Garleton's wife, turned her back upon her faithful lover, Mark l'enton, and for the last few weeks bad hardly given him a worth It was a great trou ble to her honest father, for of all men of his acquaintance there was not one so worthy of her a Mark, nor one to whom ho wonld so readily have given iter in marriage. In vain ho had advised and counseled Iter. Hetty, formerly so gen tle, so ready to comply with licr father's wishes, hung her head in sullen silence, and sought, more persistently than ever, the society of Dudley Carleton. On this particular morning on which our story opens lie, with a party of friends, had gone forth 011 a boating excursion, and Hetty, a< she knew the time was drawing near for tin ir returning, had taken up her station at the breakwater where the pleasure boats were usually drawn ashore. Carleton was not nlotio in tho village ; some cousins of his own age had aecotupaniod him thither with their sisters, and Hetty hud observed that on one, young and prettier than the rest, Dudley liad begun, within the last few days, to bestow more than ordinary attention, and her young lieart was hot | within her as she stood shading her ; eyes and watching for the returning I boat. " Von seem out of sorts to-day, lass." •She recognized Mark's voice, and it brought the crimson blood in a torrent to iter cheeks. Site gave her shoulders an impatient twist, while her pretty forehead wrinkled into a frown. " Ob, do go away ; you are the plague of my life," she said, angrily. With her eyes fixed on the oCcan, she did not see the look <>f pain that came j over the swarthy face of the fisherman. Presently she felt her little white hand—fair and delicate enough for a ! duchess—seized somewhat roughly in I his own, and she struggled in vain to t draw it away. " Von shan't tell me that twice,' Hetty," he said, in tones of sorrow rather than anger. "I will go away; but before I go I'll have it out with this young gentleman that's changed yon so, and ask him whether lie means to act honorably toward yon or whether he's only fooling you, as I suspect lie is." " You dare to say one word to Mr Carleton!" exclaimed the girl, indig nantly. "It is no business of yours, He—" "Oh, no business of mine, eh?" in terrupted Mark. "I should like to know what is my business then, consid* 1 ering that your father gave yon to* mo months and mouths afore this chap ! rami- here. We might have been mar ried now if it hadn't been that you are iso changed. If it liadn't been that —" "Oh, don't preach, Mark; I hate it," ' cried Hetty, impatiently. "I am very sorry if you care for me, because really I I don't think I care for you quite as I ought—and as I once thought I did." " How long have you found that out? ' —only since he came to the village, with his soft blarney and honied I tongue," retorted the voting fisherman. " Well, we shall see," he added, in quieter tone. "If he marries yon, well and good ; 1 wouldn't stand in the way of your happiness, even though it —it broke my heart to part writhyou. You're pretty enough to grace a crown and all , the village says so but that ain't the thing. If he so much as hurt one hair | of your head—l'd break every bone in | his hotly." And the strong hand of Mark Kenton clenched as he s|oke, ami he looked at that moment powerful enough to fell an ox with one blow. Hetty turned away, not altogether at ease ; but, affecting nn air of the most supreme indifference to all her lover had said, she resumed her former posi tion, tapping one dainty foot im j patiently on the shingle. Mark left her without another w.>rd ; j and at that moment tho boat, bearing | the form of him she imagined she loved, came in with a dash of spray as it ( reached the breakwater. Mark stood watching tho party land, while a rich flush of color mantled i Hetty's cheek. Hhe stood with her bosom heaving, expecting a look or even a word, but she received neither, 1 Dudley Carleton appeared utterly un conscious of her presence, and passed her a* if there hail Wen no such crea ture as Matthew Holding's daughter in j existence. Tlie color failed from her cheek, 1 , leaving her white to her I'ps, and no 1 sooner was the boating party out of sight than she turned and walked slowly ' toward her father's cottage. ' But the feeling of disappointment did • not continue with her long. Dudley, • doubtless, had not seen her -no, she f was sure that he could not have done so 1 —and at their next meeting be would be the same as ever. Hhe hail apjiointed 1 to meet him on the morrow, away from •, the busy fishing town, at a little nook 1 in the cliffs, the spot of many a former tryst; and she was almost counting the % hours until the time should arrive, e Hhe hardly remembered how she dsag r ged through the day, almost siek with u anxiety, lest Dudley's love had waned. ' Mark Fen ton, usually their guest at • supper, did not appear that evening, I and her father was gloomy and Hileiit, t so that Hetty erept away to bed as hooii , as she was able. r The morrow dawned, bright, fair and - sunny, aa the previous day hail been; i and at the appointed time and plaeo , Hetty, looking wonderfully pretty in , her fr. sh Sunday attire, with tliodainti , est of Htruw lrntH, trimmed with Hpruyn I of pink heather, stood await ing the arri . val of Dudley Carleton. < For more than an hour she waited, burrowing tinv holes in the earth with the end of the fritigi 1 parasol that had | once been her mother's, and walking np and down until she seemed familiar with every blade of grans and weary of the Hound of her own footsteps. Dudley Carleton eamo not. I ! Suddenly she bethought her elf of . | her father's tea, and not until then did ( ,! ulie Neem to be aware that her lover j ( ! had broken liis word. She had j | i little time to question herself, I however- she must hurry home, get her , | finery laid away, and the table spr< ad in ; ' readiness for his return from work. | She was hot and flushed from the : i haste she had made, when tho old fisher man entered, and looked a little guilty I too; but she talked cheerfully to him j throughout the meal, and made a ilc ■ j perate effort to appear as though noth ing out of the ordinary way had hap-, l>enol. More than a week passed. Mark had I taken lor at her word and kept out of | her way, and ho had Dudley Carleton, I for the matter of that, for she had >• en ' j ami heard nothing of him either. In vain slio waited for him on tho 1 boaeh, trusting that ere each morning , was out ho would In* down there with ; his lmat; but he never came, ami she bog-in to fear that he had left the little fishing village, and that all her "castle building" win gradually crumbling to | '' pieces. She never snspeetcd how narrowly in these days Mark Fenton watched the girl he loved ; he eould almost read her thoughts by every change of her face ' so closely had he studied it of late. One evening, wending hi war home ward to his solitary lodging (for by tin death of his mother, some years back 4 Mark Fenton hud be en left alone in the i world i, his heart rtul mind oppressed , ' , with anxious thoughts of Hetty, a i figure came out of the gloaming and ad vanced toward him. A second glance was all that was re quired to enable hiru to recognize Dud lev Carleton, and when once the reeog- | nit ion had leen made, Mark slackened 1 his pace and waited for the young man to approach him. They were alone on the cliffs, those two men—pntriciansnd ple|eian and as the light of the moon fell upon the face of the former, the latter saw that it was slightly jailer than usual Dudley! Carleton knew him to t Hetty Hold ing'* lover; for the girl had on more than one occasion pointed him out as the man her father wished her to marry. lie stopped because Mark stopped, although his glance somewhat quailed In-neath that of the stalwart fisherman. "Mr. Carleton—is that you? AW thought you hail left the village," said Mark, somewhat steinly ; "and ho does some one else, whom you have basely deceived." " I what do you mean exclaimed Dudley, angrily, th hot blood rising to his smooth cheek. " How dare you ac cost me thus? I have no feelings in common with you ; I don't even recol lect your name —that is to say if I ever knew it." "Never mind what my name is," re torted Mark, fiercely. " I know who you are. You are one of those men who go about the world and call them- # reives gentlemen who steal a simple lassie's heart with their lies, and, when they have grown tired of it elinek it away, like children play with the shin gle." "I am not going to handy words with a fellow like yon," cried Dudley, livid now with stifled passion. "I snppore I ran converse with a pretty girl if I like, without leing brought to account I by a low-born fisherman," " Low-born you call me, do yon ?" j repeated Mark Fenton, in tones of with- ! ering scorn. "Ifl am low-lmrn, lam honest, which is more than some folks are ; and I would rather have to leg for my bread than call myself a no truer gentleman than yon!" An angry oath, followed by a still ; angrier blow, woe all the answer vouch- j I safed to Mark Kenton's unpalatable j , speech, and the two men closed together > in a fierce and desperate struggle, f They nearcd the edge of the cliff, but r in their mail anger they were utterly forgetful of their perilous position. 1 A moment more and they hail both , reeled over together—over the great, B rugged cliff* of old red sandstone—on to the beach lielow, that made one 1 (liny to look down upon. 1 In the morning their bodies were a fonml by aoroe fishermen who had k misaeil Mark Fenton*# presence from r among them, and hat! immediately be e gun to make anxious inquiries. Mark, though aenaelem, was 'alive. His fall I- had been broken by a piece of projeot h ing earth, and he waa Carried home with I. a broken arm and a wounded head. • .. The gracfnl, youthful figure of Dudley Carleton lay crushed and dead ujn the beach, and one of the fisherman—who had known him best, through having sometimes aeompanied him and his frietyds on their boating nxeursionH— went and communicated tho mid tidings to his relations. Meanwhile Murk was borne away to the cottage where ho lodged ; and the worthy housewife, who hail become terribly alarmed at his absence, pro ceeded to dress his wounds with all a mother's tenderness. Her only son had been drowned a few months previous to Mark Fenlon's com ing to make his home among them, and she had learned to look upon the young fellow iti the light of that son she had lost. One hour later and the news had reached Hetty, who entered the cottage ' with a wild despairing cry and threw j herself by her lover's side. "Mark—oh! dear Mark live for my I sake!" she ejaculated, in accents well nigh choked with emotion. "I never ! knew how dearly. I loved you until now. I never kin-w that till the world is as nothing compared to you. I have been ' a foolish, wicked girl, and I want you to I forgive me!" Murk Fenton opened his eye , and fixed them on the wr! ite, haggard face of Matthew (Inkling's daughter. "My poor las:he murmured, faintly prating the delicate fingers which lay | in his open palm, " I knew you'd regret it before long. Don't take on, my dar ling ; lam not going to die yet; I feel 1 so much better now that I have seen ' von, and heard your own sweet words. I am sorry Mr. Carleton's ch-od ; I shall always f. el that 1 had omething to do ! wth it and yet He who is one day to b<- my Judge knows that I meant him no harm. Don't take on so, la-sie ilon't take on so." "Oh, Mark! I am a great dial more j to blame than you," continued Hettie, still weeping. " I can never forget what a wicked girl I have been." i "y. iyon vi|l,4Mr; waif till loont* down on the beach again," rejoined Mark, "and we shall he so lmppv to gether. Kiss me, Hettie, and Jet me see you bright and cheotfnl every day ; that will do me more good than all the doctor* in England." • • • • • And it was as M irk Fenton hud said. He did grow better every day, although hi recovery to In alth and strength was a more lengthy affair than either ho or Hetty had ever anticipated; for it was not until the following spring that he was seen at ltia work again, and dur ing that time the frequent visit# of the worthy rector had elx ored and soothed him, and lie went about hi business at lost like the Mark Fenton of old. A change, however, Hail nunc over Hetty, and perhaps for the l*>ttcr. A magisterial inquest was held re •ijMi'ting the discovery of Dudley Carle ti l's Ihmlv, and his death was asserted to have Ik'cii occasioned i ntirely by his own passion, Hetty eonld not do too much for .Mark to prove the afiV< lion thai l.e once had feared she hail bestowed upon another, and in the early summer, to the infinite satisfaction of old Matthew, they were quietly married in the little rustic church. Their cliil lren may now l>e seen J'lay ing n | siti the betcb, for they love to listen to the song of the waves, or climb on " grandfather's" knee when tired of their gam Ito IT and listen to his wonder ful tales; but there is one spot on the ■ cliffs which Hetty isui never |>ass with out a shudder, or recalling to mind events in the j UII.K.KHS. (Niltnllnn li fraycr. A correspondent of the Chicago 7W bura writes: In Copiah county, > Missis •ippi, I wan shown a place where a man was not handed, who nevertheless seems to have come very near experiencing that fate. He wm u noted home thief, and was at la- t captured hy a company s of indignant farnu re wlio had found Home of Iheir own horses tied tip in the wood, and had remained in ambush : near by until the thief came hack to dispone, of his booty. The whole coun tryside wan soon informed of the arrest, and the men assembled with rifle* and I Hhotguns to we the prisoner and decide | or ham what was to hi done with him. ; It wan determined, after due deliber ation, that he ihotlld he hang" I then and there. A rope was accordingly I procured, one end wan fastened to a I convenient limb and the other made ' into a noose which was adjusted around the prisoner's neck. Ho was mounted i upon a male, and a man was selected • who was to Betas executioner bvleading • the animal away from the tree, thus leaving the culprit dangling in the air. Apparently his la t. moment had come, and he had too ranch good i nse to ask j for his life. I tut his captors w t re nearly all re • ligions men, member" of the Christian churches of the neighborhood, anil at this juncture oni of the leader Hiig g( ted that as it was a very solemn ; thing to Mod human ml into eter nity especially if in an unpre. pared conditicn, as was most likely the cv e in this in tance, he thought they ought to engage in prayer before , hanging the man. To this all [u 1 seated and the man who had proponed devo tional exerciser was apjointcd to load :in prayer. He did ho, and made a nioft feeling an 1 fervent plea for divine mercy for the sinner who was just about t-> appear in the pr< m nee of the M i High with all his crimes ti|onhis head ■ The company hi, • deeply itnpressed ; many wen- even mov< 1 to team. But tic prayer came to an end, the tear I bedewed e completed according to the pro gramme, when the man who hail held the mule by the bridle declared that he did not feel willing to discharge the duty which had been assigned to him. " Homeliody <1 do it; I don't want to have nothing to do with hangin' him," said he, and his feeling was found to be ' tlrn unanimous sentiment of the assem bly. The result was that the prisoner was delivered to the sbirifT, and was won afterward sentenced to a long terra in the penitentiary. I think he must have lieon ever afterward an earnest l>e liever in the • flicacy of prayer. ttrllsitori* Nra tn4 Voir*. Three years ago there were in Pari* wnly twenty-two I'roU tant mii-don stations; n<>w there are forty-five, s -atU rcl all over France. ' The general synod of the Evangelical Lutheran church in the United State will 1> held at Altoona, Pa., June H, The |;< v. Marcus Palmer, M. D., formerly a PresbytoriAn miasionary among the Indians died recently at Milan, Ohio, aged eighty-six. Sixteen missionary, Bible arid tract societies havolwcn invited to participate i in tb%missionary conference to be held j in Constantinople, June 3. "I used to bo an odd-job Christian, j but I am now working full time," was the remark of a laloring man who had leon remiss in his duties, but had lieen through a revival. The opponents of organ music in a Presbyterian church in Toronto Mopped its notes effectually by pouring hot glne into the pipes and upon the keys. The revival in the Methodist church in M end an, Conn., lasting fifteen weeks, , resulted in 850 conversions. Of the y an army during siege (liberations costs, with the powder with which the mortar is charged, the sum of eight dollars —enough to sup i jsirt u poor family for a fortnight. If a jiernon of fair complexion ex -1 I*h , himself to the electric light for some time examining the action of lamp' , the hands and checks will show all the symptoms of sunburn, even in midwinter, and h" will develop freckles on his countenance as quick as when he goeaabout ospratsstsd by a sun-nm brella in midsummer. It is said that there n as much dif ! ference between a cultivated oyster and , one taken from its natural Ikad , dies or oars. The eyes are large, tha j cars short, and the lips arc provided with strong whiskers. The covering consists of two kinds of fur —an under | vest of close, short, waterproof wool, and an outer Vest of long, coarse, glossy ' hairs. Shy and recluse, the otter is nocturnal in his habits, lurking by day in its burrow, which opens near the water's edge, concealed among tha tangled herbage. Voracious, active and liold, it is no torious for its devastations among the fish in our rivers and lakes, vhi' b ara not protected from this foe. cither by tbe element in which they live, or by their rapidity of their motion in it. Like them, the otter is at homo in the water, swimming at any depth with tbo i utmost velocity. * Many instances are ujin record of the successful employment of tamo otters for angling purposes. Bishop Holier relates that at Pondicherry, on tha hanks of the Matta Colly, he saw a row of nine or ten very large and lieaatifn! otters, tethered with straw collars and long strings to lxunboo stakes. Some were swimming abont at the full extent j of their strings, or lying half in or half out of the Water; others were rolling themselves in the sun on the sandy bank, nttering a shrill, whistling noise, as if in play, The bishop observes that j most of the fishermen in the neighbor hood kept one or more of these animals, who wers of great nse in listing, some times driving the shoals into the net*, ' and sometimes bringing out the larger flßh with their teeth. ———— A ltohber Moved to Merry. The worst of us are human some times as the following incident goes to prove: j A burglar entered a house in which a ' mother was sitting np with a sick child "Sir," she said to him in a whisper, as j soon ax she could compose herself to speak, "there ia nothing of value in , this house except that child's life, at least to me, but you may find otherwise. Here, take my keys, search everywhere, take what you want, bnt speedily and without noise, I implore you." She handed him the keys, placed her finger on her lip and pointed to the door. The burglar mowed quietly away, then turned and said in a kw voice, " Is he wiry sick T **His life hangs on tbe continuance of this deep." •'Then he will recover for all tbe noise HI make." the roblter answered, laying down the keys and noiselessly taking his depart- > ure. bnt absolutely nothing also.