The Knil. The course of Ibo weariest river Knds in the great grav sea ; Tho scorn, for ever and evor, Htrives upward to tho tree. The raintmw, the sky adorning, HUmo* promise through the storm The glimmer of ooming morning Through midnight gloom will form Br time all knots are riven, Complex although they bo. Ami peace will at last lie given, Pear, Ixith to you aud to me. Then, though the path may be dreary, look onward to the goal; Though the heart and tho hoad bo weary, leu faith inspire the soul ; Asok the right, though the wrong be tempting, S|K-*k the truth at any cost; Vain is all weak exempting Wlien onee tho gem is lost. let strong hand anil keen eye be ready For plain and ambushed foes; Thought earnest and fancy steady lVar beat unto the close. Tho heavy clouds may lie raimug, But with eveniug eomos the light; Though tho dark low winds aro complaining, Yot the sunrise gilds tho height; Ami love has his hidden treasure For the patient and tho pure ; And time gives his fullest measure Tb the worker* who endure ; And the Word that no law has sliaken ilm the future pledge supplied ; Far we know that when wo "awaken" Kf shall bo "satisfied." Tint ley' Ma-jmine. " CREVASSE." " Mis? Kntb, Major says it's jes' on tier sundown, an' tolo mo to ax was he tor oome out yere ?" " Tell him I'll coao in, Cappie." Cap spun around on her bare tooa a tew timox, then started slowly for the house, while Ruth swung idly in her hammock in the shade of the live oak, and I ex claimed : "Think what yon aro doing, Rath. He is not happy a moment without you. He loves you so that the thought of not being ablo to sail with you brings on a fever turn, and you know he had a hemorrhage the last time you went rid ing without him. His life is bound up in you !" "I know it, aunty, so I shall go rid ing and sailing no more." "•* But such devotion will surely do oeive him." 41 When he came to us, with his doom plainly written in every feature, I re solved that if I could not nnrse him baek to the life ho so much loves, his last days should be as happy as pos sible." " Suppose ho dies deceived, believ ing that you loved him—believing a lie?'' " Don't you think when he recs no ■aoro 'through a glass darklj' that ho *will understand?" " But should he recover, do you think he would thank you for his life if you had taken all hope and brightness from it ?" " I assure you that his happiness should be, then as now, my first and only object." "Ruth," I exclaimed aghast, "yon would not marry him with no love to givo him—loving another as yon do I" Bhc raised herself slowly on her el bow, her beautiful brown eyes looking steadily through the long lashes wet with tears, and said: "My life is something that I do not irize, but by dying I cannot give him life, so if by living I can make his life , happy, why not? Whatever is for his happiness that I shall do. Now I'll go aad watch the sunset with him." I sat still under the sproading branches of the great old oak and watched the swollen river which aaemed trying to force its way throngh the great wall of earth that confined it to its course, and thought of the beau tiful girl who had just left me. When Major Grant had come to on, aiek and apparently dying, she had jnat n*t the firat great sorrow of her life. A misunderstanding bad arisen between herself and Frank Rnseel, to whom ahe had given all the devotion of her warm heart, and by the interference of friends the lovers* quarrel became a serious ■setter, and the engagement was broken. She believed herself deceived and caat aside for another, and life not worth the living, bnt she was proud, and lived on bravely, making no moan. Major Grant had lost his health by exposure during his army life, bnt won Id not for a moment donbt his en tire recovery. He was always better. He clang to Rath—was never happy when sho was absent and bnilt castle after castle in the air when beside her. lal now the two were watching the aimirrit—one believing the sun of her life bad already set in eloads and dark- MM. and the light was fast failing for the - other; she taming in dismay and dreed from the life before her—he longing - r -i striving for the life that waa fast dipping from him. A ban eh of gray moas swung smartly ia my face and roused me to the faet that the wind was rising, for added to 4be mattering of the river waa the meaning of the pines. I walked hastily t the levee. Everybody was there working or watching, lor should a jet of water foroo its way through undis covered a eiWMH wan certain and de struction sure. There wan great danger that the leree could not withstand tho force of the water without tho wind, but with a gale it seemed hopeless. It was a yearly danger to which every one had become accustomed, so that no planß were changed, and all amuse ments went on as gayly as if destruction did not threaten overy home for miles around, and our nearest neighbors had invited us to attend a country wedding with them that night. Ruth hesitated about leaving her invalid, but ho nrgcd her to go, assuring her there wan no danger whatever; so when wo heard tho call at the gate, "Oh, Miss Ruth, are you ready?" wo threw on our wraps and started, gloves in hand. Ws found after various apologies that tho family carriage had strayed away during the "late unpleasantness" and had failed to return aud that tho con veyance provided for us was a two wheeled cart. We were assured the straw on tho bottom was clean aud begged to " Bit right down, sit right down; it's all clean." Aud after much laughing and crowding,wesiz—grandma and baby, mother and sister, Ruth and I, with a bundle of hay for the horse to eat, wore packed away and jolted along right merrily. We drove beside tho levee, but the angry rnsh of tho water and the rising wind seemed to occasion no uneasiness in our companions. The honse to which wo were going stood on a point of land wnich the river had encroached upon year after year un til it was almost an island, and it seemed that soon the whole plantation wonld bo washed away. I could only wonder at tho gayety of my compan ions, and to divert my mind from my own fears, asked: " Has Miss Dora been long engaged?" " Yes, flvo years. The wedding day has been fixed twico before, the guests invited, the cake ready, and the bridal veil waiting to be put on. Tho first time Dora was sick, so very sick it seemed impossible that she could livo through that day, but as soon as tho honr for the wedding was passed she began to improve. The next time the groom fell and broke his leg an honr or two before he should have bo-cu mar ried." "How strange!" " Well, Dora is the last of an old, old family. Bhe bad an old nurse who raw visfnns and foretold coming events, who told Dorm that she wonld never be a wife or mother, and she almost began to believe it. She says if she fails this time she will never try again." '■ Oh, here we are 1 Rack np and dump your load." And amid much noise and chattering we scrambled to the gronnd and shook out our crumpled dr eases. We were received by a beautiful white-haired old lady who kissed ns all and made ns welcome. After a glance at the bare hands about ns wo slipped oar g'oves into our pockets and wore ushered into the parlor and joined one of the two linns that sat facing each other for the ceremony to begin. The white-haired old lady sat beside Ruth, who bad evidently taken her fancy. I could see that tho sweet-ficed matron was telling my gentle girl the story of her own dsnghter's misadventnrous lore that was soon to be crowned with happy fruition. Had she divined that my Rath was heart-sore and sick be cause of love ? Itb ink so. The guest % waited awkwardly as | country people gathered from far and near are wont to do. The servants moved officiously shout to save the ap pearance of delay. At length the hostess, with the slightest flush of an- ■ noyanee on her fair face, left Ruth to devote herself to others. Ruth came I over where I was standing by an open window, and pnttiog hor hand on my : shoulder tnrned hor faoe from the light i and said: "Oh, annty, I am so miserable. Why is it that evory one else may ho happy and I—" "There, there," I said, soothingly. "Do not bo so weak." And then I added in a bantering tone : " No donbt Frank will oome back —** " Too late," she said, " I have prom ised to marry Major Grant." " Why, Rath V I had no time to say more. The minister appeared, then came the bridal party; the promisee were made, hands were shaken, congratula tions uttered, refreshments eaten, the fiddlers were called in and dancing began. Three hours bad passed. The revel was at its height. The fair bride, her long delayed hopes fulfilled, the gloomy prophecy exploded, floated in and out in the mar as of the danoe, the gayest of the gsy. Ruth, her fsir fsoe flushed, seemed to have forgotten hor sorrow in bsr enjoyment of this suspi cions occasion. By her graoe and tact I oonld see thst she wss adding much to the enjoyment of others. The happy mother of the bride moved about among the elder guests, dispensing smiles and bringing pleasure wherever she went. Presently Ruth came and said with s face beaming with Jo7 : " Oil, aunty, I am so glad wo came. I never knew it was snch u pleasure to make others happy. lam not a bit sad now. I believe I could even meet Frank with composure. Hark ! What is that?" she exclaimed, turning toward the open window, through which came a dull, harsh murmur. Beforo she had time to say more there was an uproar at tho lower end of the room, a cry of "Crevasse ! Cre vasse !" from the affrighted servants, and Frank Basse 1, rnshiny throngh u crowd of dancers, leaped upon n chair not throe steps from ns and shouted: "Tho levee has broken; save your selves at oace, thcro is no time to lose." Thore was an instant of awful silence; every breath was hushed, and rosy cheeks were blanched with terror; then the voice of the despairing bride rang out: "It lias come trao ! It has come truo!" she cried, and as she fell into the arms of her hnsband the guests fled in every direction. Tho gray haired mother sank upon her knees and we could sec her lips move in prayer Frank's eyes wandered over the hur rying crowd an instant in search of somo one he evidently expected to simj- Even in that terrible moment I could not help thinking how brave and hand some he was. I did not wonder Ruth had lost her heart to him. At length his eye rooted on ns. In an instant he was beside ns. He put his arm about Ruth as if they had parted with kisses but yesterday, looked quickly back and said, as his faee blanched lips shut olosc: "We cin only save ourselves. Come!" Ho swung Ruth lightly through the casement, elaspel me by the arm and wo fled away from tho house of feast ing with tho bride's heartrending shriek in our ears, and the mother's blanched face upturned in hopeless prayer over beforo our eyes as we dashed out into the night and joined in tho wild scram ble for life. The blackness of the night, the roar ing of the wind and the increasing thunder of the river were enough to ap pall the stoutest heart. But we were hurried on, stumbling over roots and stamps, caught and torn by vines and briars, dashed against trees by the rag ing wind, spattered by tho spray of the rising water until we reached tho place where Frank had left his boat. The river was fall of floating trees, th® mini of honse* an 1 all th- debris which the ma 1 water had wrested from its conqueror*. Tbo current was ao strong it seemed certain death to trnst | ourselves to it, bat it was th® only chance. Wo stepped in th® boat and each seized an oar. W® pushed ont j and the fight for life began. Wo worn driven against hngn floating logs, again and again almost overtimed, canght in the branch®* of some great tree that rnshod down the cnrront and which in the darkness wo conld not sen. Cries of terror reached as now and then, hnt the thnndor of the liberated river filled the air. It aeemed the triumphing of , the river god as he swallowed his vic tims, the human sacrifice to his power. ; We were trying to force onr way tbrongh the crevasse np to higher ground when suddenly a bonfire some one had lighted honrs before biased np, and we saw clinging in the branches of a tree rushing past ns the bride clasped tightly in the arms of her hnsband Was the prophecy to be fnlflllod, "never a wife or a mother?** Thongh the at tempt was madness, we strove to reach them. Fortunately both Hath and my self were accomplished oarswomen and accustomed to the river. Frank stood np and called to them while we bent to onr oara with all onr strength. The bridegroom heard ns and waved his hand in acknowledgment. Then Frank took the oars, Hath the pole that was n*ed to keep ns from oolliding with tho 1 floating masses and we rowed down the current after the great troe with its liv ing burden. A jntting blnfT for a mo ment shut ont tho view of the bonfire. When it shone npon the floating tree again, only the bare trnnk and the dripping branohes were to be seen. Ilnth ottered a moan of terror. Frank changed onr course and we shot off into the darknees again. After boors of desperate fighting for oar lives, the faint light of dawn came to onr aid, and at last we were able to land. As soon as onr feet were on firm ground Rath tnrned to Frank and held ont both her hands with tear* in her eyes and trembling lips, bnt said no WTml. He drew her to him and kissed her again and again. They were saved for each other, bnt I thought of Major Ormnt with a sigh. We found him at the honae of a friend miles hack from the river, where he had been borne for safety, bnt the excitement and exertion had been too greet for his strength, and he was sn (far ing from e severe hemorrhage whioh was wasting his life blood. Ilnth wsn< st onoe to him, leading Frank by the hand. Some hours liter, as the son was set ting, we wero ell oallei to his room. Roth knelt on the floor at his bedside with her faco buried in Lor bands, and tbo Major's hand rested on her bead. The dark onrling hair lay in damp rings on his whito forehead, and tho large sad eyes were lifted as if in prayer. His lips moved. "Jtutli, dear," ho whispered. Hho raised her head, lie drew her to him with a yearning in his eyos that wonld not be refused. Their lips met in one last, long kiss. Then he reached ont and taking Frank's hand put Ruth's into it, and blessed them with a look of unutterable love till the light failed from his eyes forever. Our Continent. A New Flouting I'aluce. James Gordon Bennett's now steam yacht Namoura is of iron, and will measuro about seven hundral tons. Her only superior in size ever built in this country is tho Bretagne, which was built in Baltimore for Mr. Henri Hay. Tho Namoura's length on deck is | 210 feet. There will be over one hnn drcdand fifty electric lights throughout the vessel. The main staircase is very elaborate and leads into apartments regal in their appointment* and finish. In tho extreme bows of the vessel aro tbo quarters of tho saloon servants, the linen-lockers, wine-rooms, etc. Next aft are two staterooms of medium size, then two larger ones, each fitted with all that tbo heart could wish on a yacht. Then com ■>.. the ladies' saloon, twenty by fourteen feet, an exquisite apartment. Next is tbo owner's room, in rich Orien tal stylo, with a carved bedstead and ceiling-piece over it costing over SI,(XX), exquisite book cases, escritoires, anil a bewildering mass of lieautifnl decora tions. Mr. Bennett's bath is beneath the floor of his room. Abaft in the grand saloon, twenty-four by eighteen feet, with its sides finished in a plastic material, colored grass-green and orna mented in gilt and bronze .with the emblematic thistle of Scotland, the ceiling being in rich tint of marine bine, with gold fishes and marine animals coursing throngh the water*, leaving behind golden wakes. The man telpiece of tho saloon is in the richest of oak, witli a heavy nickel-plated firegrate sitting in the recess, which is most richly finishing in tiling. After they are completed and ready for their owner, and after the chandeliers, np hobtery, carpeting, rugs, furniture and ceiling chandeliers aro all in she will look like a fairy ship. The ladies' saloon, as well as some of the Larger rooms, will have their sides covered with cretonne, and wainscotted in hard woods. Under the skylights will be placed silk curtains to mellow the light admitted to the saloons, and decorations will he artistically distributed. Every room is fitted with electric bells. The saloon galley or kitchen is fltlod up equal to any hotel in tho world. Light and ventilation aro seenred by moans of over a hundred ports in the base of each of the companion and skylight hatches. In fact, nothing that skill, art or scieneo could suggest has lieen left undone to make tho Namoura a per feet steam yacht. Her speed is set down atfonrteon knots an hour on a consnmp tion of abont a ton of coal per hour. Afraid of Hi* Watch. Many would not look "a king's gift in the month" if they could. It seems tltat Hossini, the celebrated composer, conld not if ho would— in one case at least—and it would have been better if be had never learned how. Tbe story of Rossini's present of s magnificent gold watch from King Louis Phillip® is told by the London Ttlrymph, to illus trate the groat maestro's superstitions weakness: One afternoon, as he was showing the watch to some acquaintances in the Cafe Holder, a strange gentleman walked np to the table at whieh he was silting, and addressed him with the words: "M Rossini, yon do not know the seerets of yonr watch, althongh yon havo worn it for such s long time. Will yon permit me to reveal them to you?" It Msini, with sn ironical smile, banded him the watch, when, greatly to his surprise, the stranger tonsho.l a hidden spring, and a false lining to the back of tbe watch flew open, disclosing the maeitro's portrait, painted in minia ture, and snrronnded by a wreath of enameled Arabio characters. Interrogated as to how he came by his knowledge of the watch's secret, the exiatenoe of which Rossini had never before suspected, the stranger avowed himself the maker of tho ooatly toy, bnt oddly enough, positively declined to explain the signification of the Arabic words encircling the likeness, althongh repeatedly and urgently solicited by Rossini to do so. From that moment Rossini, oonvinoed that some evil spell most be contained in the mvstio c jar actors whioh their snthor steadfastly refused to interpret to him, conoeived so unoonqnerable a fear of the watch that he never again wore it. After his death it was Kund by his heirs securely sealed np and hid den away in an old commode whioh ap parently had not boon opened for sev eral yean, aa its contents were oovsred with thlok dost. Water gas is now used in fifty allies and towns in the United State*. Tho Wealth of Colorado. Tho silver mines of our greatest mountain chain aro admitted in all conntribN to bo auperior to all other* in the world. They, and they alone, have created ont of vast tract* of wilder noaa and dcsort populous, rich and thriving Territories and Htatea—and all thia within tho apace of a few yeara. Very many of the moneyed princes of the world owe their great wealth to tho mine* of Colorado, Nevada and Cali fornia. Tiioy had faith in the inex haustible mineral resources of the Ilocky mountains, and the result has justified their faith. In those mountains silver mining has arrived at the stage of a regular and systematic industry ; an in dustry of which the United Htatescom missioner of mining statistic! says : " It is the safest and most profitable of all industries." It is never burt or shaken by panics, which aro becoming so frequent, and which so often retard or ruin every other industry. Tuer to higher bliss, as every sunset is but veiled by night, and will soon show itself again as the red dawn of a new day. Every human being Las a work to carry on within, duties to perform abroad, influences to exert, which are peculiarly his and which no conscience but his can teach. An UnglUh Lecturer in America. Archibald Forbes, the faunas war correspondent, gives in the Century his impressions of American andienoes in an entertaining article entitled "Lectur ing in two Hemispheres." The varying strains of an .Kilian harp, the cats'-pawa that wind flurries make on calm water, the moods of a child—ail those arc monotonous in comparison with the varieties in the behavior of loctnre audiences. In Great Britain audiences are fairlj demonstra tive: often almost boisterously so. If at the comencement something happens to catch th?ir fancy they w 11 applaud clear through, and sometimes ind'-ed embarrass the lecturer by applauding him in places where he wonders what on earth they find to bo demon strative about. American audiences are for the most part much more self-restrained and critical. They are silentest perhaps in New Kngland. Almost the first time I spoke in Ameri ca was in Worcester, Mass. I toiled on for half an hour doing my best, but the audience gave no sign. When I looked out over it, I aaw only a sea of cold, attentive faces, immobile alike to my efforts at pathos and at hnmor. Then I began to feel mean. " You are \ poor stick," I said to myself, " and it is sheer impudence for yon to stand upon a platform and pretend to be a lecturer. They have found you out to be a fraud; only they are too civil to hiss you or to get up and go away!" Well,l know I very nearly went away my self. Bat I hard ened my heart and got through some how, the whole andience remaining to the bitter end. There was scarcely a hand-clap when I ended, and I quailed to encounter the aecretary of the com mittee. But he was quite satisfied. " Onr people are not demonatrative," he observed—no faith, I was well aware of that—" but you held them to the laat, and we ahallall be glad to have you back again next year 1" Very soon I learned that the criterion of an Ameri. can audience's satisfaction is whether it goes away in the middle or remains to the end. • • • A Boston audience has the reputation of being the most coldly critical in the republic; but my personal experience is quite the con trary of this. Baltimore is exception ally warm; ao it Charleston, 8. C.; aois Hartford, Conn., and warmest and most appreciative of all is Cincinnati. The Kola Hat, The properties of the kola nat which i largely a**l io Central and Western Africa, hare l>een lately elucidated by M M Ileokel and Schlegdenbanffen, who, in a paper to the French Academy, gave an analysis of the substance. .The coty ledons of the aeed are the only part the negrooa nee. The effects are those of a etimnlant and tonic; and impure water is rendered agreeable by previous nae of the not. The analysis shows that the kola nnt has more oafeine than the best ooffees, and that that anbstanoe is wholly free, not combined, as in coffee, with an organic acid. The action of the oafeine is aided by a considera ble quantity of theobromine present. Next there is a notable amount of glu ooec, of which them is none in cocoa. The nnt contains twice an ranch • torch ss is foand in seels of theobromo. There is little fatty matter, and n special tannin, together with e red ooloring matter, is present. As a remedy, the kola nat to appreciated by the Afrioans is affections of the in testines, liver, etc.; it may bo ranked medically with cocoa and like matters, over which, however, H has as advan tage is possessing so nak trinwfn. , which give* it astringent pi op si ties.