Afe! Who Can Tell t Ah! who nan tall what waits as whan the vail • That hides that other life is rolled away? Beyond its bounds mysterious, what dreads assail? ' What lies within its siiadows, who can say? What waits ns there Beyond our sight? Hope or dsspair, Or day or night? Whence flies the soul when it easts off the clay? Ah I who can tell? Oar loved ones die; throngh mists of blind ing tears In deepest gloom despairingly ws grope; Forebodingly we see the lonely years Unlighted by their love, unoheered by hope. Ah! who can tell? Where are our dead? Will all be well When life is fled? Ovarii they "our path o'er life's descending slope? Ah! who can tell? We o Take it to Miss Fitzalpine, and •ell her I think it matches her dross setter than—" But instead of meekly obeying j 1 nadame's behests, Flora Nottingham | < lan ont of the room, and never stopped i Until she had hidden her hnrning face [ i the curtains of the back work room. " flood gracious me!" said Bella j Brown. " What's the matter?" "Such a horrid young manP ex-; plained Flora "He stared at me! ; And madarne wanted me to go hack again into the room, but I wouldn't." " HurnphP said Bella Brown. " I'd he glad enough to get into the show room. no matter if the customers •tared their eyes out at me." But Madame Fontani wits cross and curt with poor Flora after this all the afternoon. " I don't believe in such a parade of feminine modesty," said madame, shak ing her false curls. " But," pleaded Flora, piteousiy, "lie looked at me so insolently—just as if I were one of the show-figures !" " Well, what else are you ?" said Madame Fontani, sharply. " I can't have any young women so exceedingly high-toned that they'll have to lie put 'wader glass Rhades. If they can't hold themselves ready to oley orders, they m*j leave the establishment. Here. Miss Nottingham—this yellow satin Areas ranst be finished for to-morrow Morning at 9. Take it home with you to-night. I dare say, if you are steady 1 at it, you can finish it by 12." " But, madarne," cried Flora, •• i don't think it's possible to—" " Hush P whispered Bella Brown. ~ i ll help you." For Flora Nottingham and the dashing Miss Brown boarded together, in a tall, red-brick house, whert* a spare landlady, with a ted nose and faded alpaca raiment, charged them a mod' ra. • price in consideration of having the dresses of herself and her daughters fitted •e ruined at her balls and hops, and low class things. And she may thank her stars, I|don't have her arrested and flung into jail!" While poor Flora stood by, with such an expression of white, mute dismay on her face, that Mrs. Truefltt turned kindly to her. " My dear," said she, in a low voice, "you are not happy here?" " Oh, no, no!" cried Flora, wringing her hands. " Isn't the woman kind to you?" eace and quietness was like a foretaste of heaven itself. And old Miss lledgeley was equally pleased with her new shop-girl. " My dear," she said to Flora one evening, after half an hour's medita tion in the purple July twilight, "do you know what 1 am thinking of?" "No, Miss lledgeley," said the girl, laughing. "Of adopting you, Flora, as my own child." "Oh, Miss lledgeley I" faltered Flora. "If you don't marry, 1 mean," the old lady corrected herself. Flora blushed a bright soft pink. " I shall never marry,' Miss Hedge" ley," said she. " I am not so sure almut that," said Miss lledgeley, as she thought of tho number of visits that Mr. Paltison, the new minister, had considered It necessary to make at her domicile of late. •• But anyhow, my dear, I hope you won't go away very far from me." And out of the fullness of her heart Flora speaks : "Oh, Mihs lledgeley, I never knew what true happiness was until I knew you."— Helen Forrtat Fantastic Extravagance. Warsaw society is still excited over an exhibition of fantastic extravagance with which a number of Russian offi cers have recently entertained them selves. AdjutiUit-fJeneral Count Pillar and Prince Mijanowier., of the Hus sars, conceived the idea of a Roman luinqtict in the style of Liicullus, aqjl twenty-six other oflleers united in the novel diversion. The hanqunt-hall was filled with rones and perfumed with all ths odors of Arabia, and the feastern arrayed themselves in Roman togas and wore garlands of roses on their beads. Hwallows' nests from India, wild African pigeons and a ragout of nightingales were among the costly viands with which they were served, The banquet lasted eight hours and cost 921,000, or $750 apiece. This gas. tronomical extravagance has provoked bitter criticism In Warsaw, where It is denounced as a wicked imitation of tho wanton luxury which preceded the fall of the Roman empire, and where It has, at least, dime nothing to make I more agreeable the relations existing lietwmi the Polish imputation and th ; 11 lissom garrison. MORAL A*l> RELIGIOUS. I .Win || to Pur Jtr>nf. " Liv c f >r some purpose in tin' world. Act your part well. Fill up the meas ure of your duty to others. Conduct yourself mi that you shall he missed with sorrow when you are gone. Multitudes of your species are living in such a selfish manner that they are not likely to he remembered after their disappearance. They leave behind them scarcely any trace of their exist ence, but are forgotten almost as though they had not been. They are, while they live, like ono pebble lying unobserved among a million on the shore; .and when they die, they are like the same pebble thrown into the sea, which just rufTles flic surface, sinks and is forgotten, without being missed from the beach. They are neither regretted by the rich, wanted by the poor nor celebrated by the learned. Who has been the better for their life? Who lias been the worse ,for their death? Whose tears have 'they dried up? Whose wants sup plied? Whose miseries have they jhealod? Who would unbar the gates of life to readmit them to existence? Or what face would greet them b;u k again to our word with a smile? 'Wretched, unproductive mode of exists ence ! Selfishness is its own curse; it is a starving vire. The man who does no good, gets none, lie is like the heath in the desert, neither yielding fruit nor seeing when good comet.li; a stunted, dwarfish, miserable shrub." - J. A. Janus. llengh ap at me among the clover With flatter of a little gown Whose flying fold the wind upraise* Her pretty hear! of gohlcn brown My darling lifts auud the daisies. Tart of the shining day she seem", Hut more divine than all its splend-.r. Like some fair light that shines in d-'smi, Ho softly bright, so sweetly tender The glow upon the rounded cheek, Tire Imping voice in broken "weetnr-. More life and love and joy lresj*r,k Than all the summer's rich cornph >r... And yet-—rtlaa! the woful chance That comes to dim the moment's f-n a- The sparkling eye, the sj>eaking glan-> The bea(MMl-up wealth of Jons • -MI treasure, Do but recall a vanished hliiw, As Memory's haul the curtain rn: Another head, sr. fair as tins, That lies below the residing daiie —Ma ry A . I PCSCJEJTT PARAGRAPHS. A Boston in din calls hi* wife < tal, because &he is always or u watch. A woman has to settle a man'* "f. fee with the white of an egg, can sHt!o his hash with a look. When a inan prefaces his eon • • v tion with " Now, I know it inn • >:,j of my business," you may fx- JWI sure that it isn't. " Great pains taken'' is the h< > ? of an advertisement in one *,f dailh*. Probably some gentlema' •, eaten a whole watermelon. "Mr. !>., if you'll get my coat by Saturday, I shall l*i forever in debtod to you." "If that's your pv- It won't bo done," Baid the tailor. A Missouri girl whose father rely* to buy a lemon-colored linen dres poi soned one of his mules to get even. * girl who can't be in style will bf* desperate. ' A New York physician gives haif dozen reasons why Americans pr * bald. It ap]H-ars that the prim pal reason is because their hair comes ' We always suspected as much. An intelligent farmer being ask ;f his horses were well matched, replied "Yes, they are matched first rate; one of them is willing to do all the work and the other is willing that he shm.M " A Brooklyn boy wrote a compost ion on the subert of the Quakers, whom he described as a sect who never quar reled, never got into a fight, n a moment, then asked: " What do you jdo for a livingr "Oh I sing in aehurrh ichoir in the city." " You do, eh! Wd! jyou can't board with me." " Why not?" gasped the wondering warW. " 'Cause," replied the soil-tiller,. - Ike hut fellow who boarded with tai a singer, and he had such a tbuJl- rmc bass voice that every Ume he d| all the milk In the cellar turne2*ir *