(HE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE, Thursday Morning, March 1, 1860. Selcdti poctnn THE LAST GOOD NIGHT. I'lose her eyelids press them gently O'er the dead and leaden eyes, Fur the soul that made them lot .h, Hath returned unto the skies ; Wipe the death drops from her forehead Sever one dear golden tress. Fold her icy bands all meekly. Smooth the little'snowy dress ; Scatter fiow era o'er her pillow- Gentle llowers, so pure and white -- Ijqr the bnd upon her bosom, There -now softly say. Good-night, Though ottr tears flow fast and faster, Yet we would not call her back. We arc glad her feet no longer Tread life's rough and thorny track ; We Art? ouV heavenly Father Took her while her heart was pure, We are glad he did not leave her All life's trials to endure ; We :fre glad and yet the tear drop- Falleth : for alas we know That oar fireside will t>c lonely. We shall miss our darling so. While the twilight shadows gather. We shall wait in vain to feel Little arms, all white tusd dimpled. Hound onr neek so -<>flly teal : Our wet cheek will mis- the pressure Of sweet lips warm and red, \n.l our Iris im sadly, sadly. Miss that darling little head Which was wont to rest there sweetly ; And those gohK-n ejvs s\> luight. We shall miss tiieir loving glances, We shall miss their .-oft G dni at When tire mot-row's sun is shining. They wiH take this ehcrisl. -d fo-:a. Tit.'., will U-ar it to the church yard. And eonsi.cn it to the worm : Well what matter 1 It is only The clay lrv-> eur darling w re ; God haili roU-J her as an v . She iiath need o: this no more : Fold her hands, and o'er her p '! >\r Scatter flowers all pure and white, ki<> the mart'lc V>r n . and whisper, Once again, a la.-t G *ni ni-.:ht. § c 1111 c i £al f. [Kr*n the Atlantic Monthly ] MY LAST LOVE. 1 had counted ninny more in my girlhood, ill tbe first Bash of blossoming, ami :t few, good men and true, whom 1 never meet even now without nti added color ; for. at one time or another, I thought | bved each of them. •' Why didn't 1 marry them, then ?" For tbe same reason that many another w>> man tloes not. We are afraid to trust onr own likings. Too many of them are but sati rise vapors, very rosy to Im gia with, 'ut • y mid-day as dingy as any old dead cloud with , tiie rain all shed out of it. I ver see any of those old swains of tui. e, w L it iec. g jirofoumily thankful that Ido . I . "\g to him. I shouldn't want to look over my baud's head to any sense. So ti ■y a wives and children, and 1 hi. ia : ii? . i, — although I was searedy eonsc. us oi t : • st for. if my own ey< s orother | • pic - te.-iiu. y were to lie trusted, 1 dou't look e>!J, and I'm quite sure I don't feel so. Bat I came to my seif on my thirty-secoud bin lay, aa old I maid most truly, withont Ihmh fit of c rgy. j And thereby bug* tl is tale ; for on toat birthday I first made acquaintance with my last love. Something like a month before, there had eonte to Huntsville two gentlemen in search of game and quiet quarters f-r the summer. They soon found that a hotel in a country vil lage afforels little re elusion ; but the woe-.!- j were full of game. the mountair.-bro. k< swar li ed with treat too fiue to be given np,and they decided to take a bowse of their own. After MWe search, they fixed on an old 1 >u- •, I've ; forgotten whose " folly it was ca ;, full n mile and a half from town, si ami i 115 upo;; a mossy lull that bounded uiy fields, s . ire ! stiff and weather-beaten, and without any j 0 tectiou except a ragged pine-tree that thrust its huge litnos beneath the empty windows, us though it were running away with a stolen house under its arm The place was musty, j rat-eaten, and teuar.ted by a couple of ghosts, who thought a fever, once quite fata! within the walls, no suitable discharge from the property, ami made themselves perteetly free u t e grass in from of the house, smoking and reading. Some- J times a fragment of a song wot; 1 be dropped down froni the lazy wings tbe south w. . 1, sometimes a looc laugh filled a-. tue sum frier air and frightened the , .ae-wood iuto echoes, wad, altogether, the uew ue ghbors seemed to live aa enviable life. They were very civil people, loo; for, though their nearest path oat lay across my fields, and close by the * doorway, ami they often stopped to buy frail j or cream or butter, we were never annoyed by an impertinent que-'..on or look. Once only ! overheard a remark aUe_-, tl. r civil, am. ; that was on the ere mug before my birthday Cue of them, the her, -aid, as he we..t away ' from my house with a ba-k-.-t of eherr.es, that j he should like to get sjvoeh with that polyglot old maid, who read, and wrote, and made her < own butter ; .its The c: ..r ar-acred, that i-- ii;ur was e.ve. ...tat any rate, .*•! p*.r shr had z .'v-wrui tk.v -. . down 'he laac laughingly disputing About tbe ' matter, not knowing that I was behind the current bushes. " I'olyglut old maid !" I thought, very in dignantly, as I went into the house. " I've a mind not to soil them another cake of my but ter. But I wonder if people call me an old maid. I wonder if 1 am one." 1 thought of it all the evening, and drcmcd of it all night, waking the next morning with a new realization of the subject. That first sense of a lost youth ! How sharp and strong it comes ! That suddenly opened north door ! of middle life, through which the winter winds t rush in, sweeping out the southern windows 1 all the splendors of the curlier time ; it is like a sea-turn in late summer. It has seemed to be June all along,and we thought it was Jnne, until the wind went round to the cast, and the first red leaf adiuouished us. By-aml-by we close, as well as we may, that open door, and look out again from the windows upon blooms, beautiful in tiieir way, to which some birdsyet sing 5 bat, alas ! the wind is stiil from the cast, ar.J blows as though, far away, it had lain among icebergs. So 1 mused all the morning, watering the sentiment with a bit of n shadow out of my cloud ; and when the shadows turned them selves, 1 went ont to see how old age would look to me in the fields and woods. It was a : delicious afternoon, more like a warm dream 'of hav-making, odorous, misty, sleepily musi cal, than a waking reality, 011 which the sun | shone. Tremulous h!ue clouds lay down all i around upon the mountains, and lazy white ones lost themselves in the waters; and through the dozing air, the f.iint chirp of robin or j cricket, and ding of bells in the woods, and mellow cut of sevthe, melted into one song, as though the heart-beat of the luscious midsum mer time had set itself to tune. I walked on to loiter through the woods. No dust-brush for brain or heart like the boughs of trees 1 There dwells a truth, aud pure, strong health within them, an ever re turning youth, promi uig us a g'orious leafage jin some strange spring-ti no, aud a symta iry and sweetness the. n •-s us until our thoughts grow skyward them. ar. i wave and sing in s.vu sunnier strata of soul air. la the woods 1 was a crH again, a;,. 1 f•. v t j tbe fiovr of the hours in their pleasant cora paniou.-: p. 1 tuo-* !> ve crow a sir. .i and -.1 down by a thick,l of pirns to rest, though I i have forgotten, and | irhnjis 1 ha 1 fallen asleep : for suddenly I became const ious of a sharp report, and a sharper pain in my shoul der, and, tearing off my cape, I found the blood was flowing from a wound just below the joint. 1 remember little more, for a sud den faintness came over me ; but 1 have an indistinct rem mbrance of peojde coming up, : of voices, of being carried home, and of the consternation there, and long delay in obtain ing the pargcon. The pain of an operation ■ brought me fully to Biyaeases ; mad when that was over, 1 was left alone to sleep, or to think over my situation at leu sure. I'm afraid I ha 1 lust little of a Christian spirit tie n. All my j kins of labor and pleasure -poik d by this one piece of carelessness! to cad it by the mild-.-t tcnii. All those nice little fancies that should have grown into ro.l llcsh-atnl -1 blood articles for my pabiishcr, hug op to Jf r i shrivci without shape or come'iuoss ! Toe uanlen, the dairy, the low bit of car riage way through the 1 etches, — my pet seu-.:ne, —the 11 w music, the sewing, all laid ui'C*i I.e s! ; i r au in .thaite time, and 1 . n ' etbr e .ph ymcat t on to watch the •■vail pap r. ana to wonder ii" it wasn't a mV. diut.tr or >-.:p o-tiine, or nearly day I.', ~! 10 ■ be -are, I keew u:;.i tliought of alt the i:n pr.-vi 'g r* : :l ■ i of a si. k-rooiu ; but it was much tike a tuii.isp keu }>erson mikiinr peaee i araor.g tw-. ty ipuitTtlso 10 ones. Y- 1 can sec liiai making mouiits, but you dou't hear a word he says. A sick mind breeds fever fast in a sick body, and by night I was in a high fever, and for a day or two knew bat little of what went on about me. One of the first tilings I beard when I grew easier, was, that my neighbor, ! the sportsaiau, was waiting Ixiow to hear how i 1 was. It was the younger 3 w. se gun i had wounded me: and he had s'.v.vu great solicitude, they said, coming several times each j ; day to inquire for me. He brought ?■ . birds to be co-. ked tor me, too, —and >0 again tv Iri g - 3 i. .. : . am e ■to fetch, he to;J t.O g.ri. Iv of life, aud the things that hare helped to sb.qve them day by Jav. put on a sort of strangeness, a.i come to ' shake hands with us again, aud make u< won | dor that they shouid be just exactly what they ' are. We pet at toe primitive meaning ot • ' thera, aa if w r e rub off the aa]> •.! i.fe, and . looked to see how the threads were woven ; and they come aud go b tore us with a sort of old newness that affects us much as if we should meet our own ghost soie time, and wonder if we are rea'.iy our own v>r some other [>ersons h ' ; ; vke.jsec I went through all this, and came cut with a stock of small facts besides, —as, that the j paper hanger had patched the hangiugs in my j chamber very badly in certain dark spots, I ' had got several headaches, inak.ug it out,) — that the egim :ey was a little too much on oae . s.dc, —that certain Wards in the entry creaked 1 of their own accord in the night,—that Xeigh | bor Ikowu had tucked a tew new shirgies iuto ire roof of h*s tarn, so that it seemed to , Lave broken out with thera, —and any aueaber 1 of other ti.it gs v, ai .imp rtant. At Icagt . I ill for both of us; therefore he was going, if we wotil 1 pardon the liberty, to offer his servici - as reudt r, while my nurse went out for ar ' ra v. ,Ik. t' u' 1 .'i 1 -it ont n: ' r the shadow of t!'3 U. -.•lt-tree?, as well as in that 1 - room? He couU lift the chair and me pcrfec ly well, and arrange all so that I should be com fort abb He would ike to supcrin t d t*.; cooking of -• ■••.':e birds he 1 rought one day. He noticed that she girl didn't do them quite as nicely ■= he hail learned to do them in the woHs. And so in a thousand things he quietly made us do as he chose, without seeming to outrage any rule of pro priety. When 1 was able to sit in a carriage, lie persuaded me to drive with hiai ; and I had to lean on his arm, when 1 first went round the place to see how matters went on. Once 1 protested against his making him self so necessary to ns, and told him that 1 didn't care to furnish the gossips so much food as we were doing. When 1 turned him out of doorq he wou'd certainly stay away, he said ; but he thought, that, as long as I was an invalid,l needed some j one to think and act for me aud save me the j rr mble, and, as no one else seem. J diseased to take the office, he thought it was rather his dry and privilege,—esoe ial.'y, ha added, with a slight s:ude, as he wis quite .-".re that it was not very disagreeable to u<. As fi>r the gossips, he ii 'n't think they would make ear a rut of it, with >uea an txe dent du-.-nna as t.'. .; Mary.—a: 1, in •d, . 3 1 card the otiurd.iy that he w&spayiug altentioß to her.' tit all ovvr by my-a f. wis nhe 1 had gone, and ca::i*3 to the CMckuißi that it j wa- not ucce-sary for me to resign so great a j pi .- .re as ids ;kry hid become, merely for lire bar of what a few curious people might J say. id.' .1 Mary, cautious as she wis, protes ted e.u'A.u-t haarihing him tor aach a reason : I and, after a little talkiug over of the matter among ourselves, we decided to let Mr. Ames come as often as he chose, for the remaining month of his stay. That month went rapidly enough, for I was well enough to ride end walk out. and half the time had Mr. Ames to accompany me. I got t > value him very much, as 1 knew him bot j ter, tad M he grew icqpumtjd with my pc-, cci: ri'i' - ; aud we were the best friends in ! t" w-ir'.J, with nit a thought ef being uiore. No 0 ie would have laughed at that more than • ii , ! re a - sat' lan evident i:i ti.e idea. At iengti. the time came tor hitn to Lave Hunt-vino : house waac'osi :, et ; eept one room where ho stiil preferred to re main, and his friend was already gone. He | came to take tea with us for the last time, and made himself as agreeable as ever, although it j evidently required some effort to do so. Soft-' ; hearted Cousin Mary broke down and went off crying ulieu he bade her good-bye, after j tea : but I was not of such stuff, and laugh ingly raiiivd him oa the he Lad made. - tlet yoar bonnet, anj walk over to the stiH with me. Miss Ilachel," he saiJ. 4 " I* i>u't sunset quite yet, and the afternoon is warm. Come! it's the last walk we shall . take together." I followed him out, and we went almost si.-, ut.v acr ss "the Gel Is to the hill that over !o ked tiie strip of meatlow betwix-n our hoitsi - There was the stile over which I had loo&ca to see r...a spr.ug, mar.y a tio-e. "Sit down a moment, until the sua is quite down, be ;*aid, making room for me beside him oa the topmost step. '"See how splendid that -ky is ! a paihiou tor the gvds i" " i should think they were airing ail their finery," 1 answered. " I looks more like a counter spread with bright goods than any-. , thing else 1 can think of."' t Thai's a decidedly vulgar comparison, md you're sot iu a spiritual mood at all, ' he sai-.i . . " You've me two or three times to-! night, w'. u I've tried to Le scnliuieuul. 1 What's amiss with yon T' c:J Le U.at LU e-yos, Call of a s.iaey -* rtof triumph,upon aiae "I Lkep rtiag with frier I-; Its. Im? aw ry. ISuJ, _ ... z ..iSe-.r.i :>...* aisarel. . I *3;.e.^ r V -- " RECAUDLESS OF DEN UNO I ATT ON FROM ANY QUARTER." " You'll write to me, Miss Ilachel ?" he r asked. "No, Mr. Ames, — not at all," I said. ; "Not write? Why not?" he asked in ns i tonishment. " Because I don't believe in galvanizing dead friendship," I answered. " Dead friendship, Miss Rachel? I hope ours lias much life in it yet," he said. "It's in the last agony, Sir. It will be . comfortably dead and buried before long, with a neat little epitaph over it which is much the best way to dispose of them finally, 1 think."' " You're harder than I thought you were," he said. "Is that the way you feci towards all your friends ?" i " I love ruy friends as well as any "one," I answered. " But 1 never hold them when they wish to be gone. My life-yarn spins against some other yarn, catches the fibers, and twists into the very heart" "So far ?" he asked, turning his eyes down to mine. " Yes," I said coolly,—"for the time being. You don't play at your friendship, do you ? If so, I pity you. As I was sayiug, they're like one thread. By and-by one spindle is moved, I the strands spin away from each other, aud be come strange yarn. What's the use of send ing little locks of wool across to keep them acquainted ? They're two yarns from hence forth. Reach out for some other thread, — there's plenty near —and spin in that. We're made all up of little locks from other people, Mr Ames. Won't it be strange, in that ircat Hereafter, to hunt up our own fibers, and re turn other people's? It would take about forty five degrees of an eternity to do that." " 1 shall never return mine," he said. " I couldn't take myself to pieces in such a style But won't you write at all ?" "To what purpose? You'll be glad of one letter, —possibly of two.. Then it will be, 'Confound it ! here's a missive'from that old maid t! What a bore ! Now I suppose 1 must air my wits in her behalf; but, if you ever catch me again,' Exit." I "And yon ?" he a-ked, laoghing. " 1 shall be as weary as you, and find it as d :' - ' ; ! t to kep warmth iu the poor dying body. No, Mr. Ames. Let the p.)or thing d.<• a natural death, and wc'il wear a bit of crape a little while, and get a new friend for the old." " So you mean to forget me altogether 1" "No, indeed! 1 shall recollect you as a very pleasant tale that is told, not a friend to hanker after. Isn't that good common sense ?" "It's all bard work,—mere cold calcula tion," he said ; " while 1" He stopped and colored. " Your gods, there, are downright turn coats," I said, coming down from the stile. '"Their red mantles are nothing but pearl col j ored now, and presently they'll be That whippoorwill always brings the dew with him, too; sol must go home, (jood-night, I and good-bye, Mr. Ames." " I scarcely know how to part with yon," he said, taking uiy hand. " It's not so ea-y a : thing to do." " lVople say, 'Gcod-bye,' or 'God bless yon,' or some such civil phrase, usually," I said, with just the least curl of my lip,—for I j j knew I had got the better of him. He colored ag b q and then suiiied a little 1 I ?a ". . I " Ali ! I'm afraid I leave a bigger lock than j 1 I take." he exclaimed. " Well, then, gooff II good-bye, and God bless yon, too ! . Dou't b quite so hard as you promise to be." : 1 mls-.u him very much, indeed ; but if aey think I cried after him, or wrote or j soliloquized for his sake, they are much mis taken. i had lost friends before, and made it a j*>int to think just as tittle of them as jh>s sibie, nntil the sore spot grew strong enough to hauiiie without wincing. Besides, my cou sin staved with me, and all my good friends in the village had to come out for a call or a Tisit to see bow the laud lay ; so I had occu pation enough. Once iu a while I used to look over to the old house, and wish for one good breezy conversation with its master ; and when the snow came aud lay in one mas.: cpou the old roof, clear dowu to the caves, like a night-cap pulled down to the eyes of a low : browed old woman, I moved my bed against the win-low that looked that way. These for saken nests are glo ciiy thing? enough ! 1 had no ti. mght of hearing again of him or from him, and was surprL- J, when, in a mouth, | a review came, and before long another, and afterwards a box, by express, with a finely kept boquet, and, in mid winter, a little oil painting,—a delicious bit of landscape for my Sin:!*m, as he said in the note that accompa nied it. 1 heard from him in this way all win ter, although I uever sent word or message back again, and tried to think I was sorry that | he did not forget me, as I had supposed he would. Of coarse I never thought of ackuow l- ; edging to myself that it was possible for me | to love him. I was too good a sophist for that and, indeed, I think that between a perfect j friendship and a perfect love a fainter distinc tion exists than many people imagine. I have kuowu likings to bo colored as rosily as love, and -e*. i what called itself love as cold as the . chill; st liking One day, after spring had been some time couie, I was returning frotu a walk and saw that Mr. Ames's house was open. I couid not j see any person there : hat the Jo. r and win dows were opened, and a faint smoke crept out of the chimney aud up the new spriug foliage after the squirrels. I had walk-, ed some distance, and was tired, and th weath er was not perfect ; but I thought I would go round that way aud see what was going oa.— i | It was oae ot those charming child days iu ' early May, laughing am] crying all in one, the fiue mi-l-ffropa shining down iu the sun's ray-, like -trtr-ffust from seme new world iu process of ra-plug up for use. I liked sa.h Jays.— , The she* .wr w- re as go <1 for me as for the ..nees. I grew and budded cadvr the a, caJ +ti fill : . . ra.i .il biOv_. ' 1 \V ..m I rtaeL. J*a !.. • i before the doer, A - • .1 . 1 i meet that he held my hard and drew me in, asking two or three times how I was and if I were glad to ?ee him. He had called at the house and seen Cousin Mary, on his way over, he said, —for be was hungering for a sight of us. He was not looking as well as when ho j left in the autumn, —thinner, paler, and with I a more anxious expression when he was not speaking ; but When 1 began to talk with him, he brightened up, and seemed like his old self. He had two or three workmen already tearing down portions of the finishing, and after a few moments asked me to go round aud see what improvements he was to make. We stopped at last at his chamber, a room that looked through the foliage towards my house. " This is my loungiug-placc," he said, point ing to the sofa beneath tho window. " I shall sit hero With my cigar and watch you this summer ;so be circumspect ! But are you sure that you arc glad to see ino ?" "To be sure. I)o you take me for a heath en r I said. " But what are you making such a change for ? Couldn't the old house content you V' "It satisfies mc well enough ; but I expect visitors this summer who are quite fastidious, and this old worm-eaten woodwork wouldn't do for them. What makes you look so dark? Don't you like the notion of my lady visitors?" " I didn't kuow that they were to be ladies until you told me," I said ; " and it's none of my business whom you entertain, Mr. Ames." " There wasn't much of a welcome for thera in your face, at any rate," he answered. "And to tell the truth, 1 am not much pleased with the arrangement myself. But they took a -ud dcu fancy for coming, and no amount of per suasion could induce them to change their minds. It's hardly a suitable place for ladies; but if they will come, they must make the best of it." " How came yon ever to take a fancy to this place ? and what makes you spend so much money on it ?" I asked. " You dou't like to see the money thrown away," he said, langhing. " The truth is, that I've got a skeleton, like many another man, and I've been trying these two years to get away from it. The first time I stopped to rest under this tree, ! felt light-hearted. I don't know why, except it was some mysteri ous influence ; but loved the place, aud J love it uo less now, although my skeleton has fouad a lodging-place here too." "Of course," I said, "and very appropriate ly. The house was haunted before you came." " It was haunted for me afterward," be said softly, more to himself than to me ; " sweet, shadowy visions I should be glad to call up now." And he turned away and swallowed a sigh. I pitied him all the way home, and sat up to pity him, looking through the soft May . tar light to see the lamp burning steadily at his window nntil after midnight. From that time I seemed to have a trouble, — though I could scarcely have named or owucd it, it was so in definite. He came to sec me a few days afterward, an l sat quite dull and abstracted until I warm ed him up with a little lively opposition. I vexed him first, and then, when I saw he was interested enough to talk, I let him have a chance ; and I had never seen him so intcrest- I ing. He showed me a new phase of his ehar | acter, and I listened, and answered him m as few words as possible, that I might lose noth ing of the revelation. When he got up to go away, I asked hira where he had lieen to learu and think so much sin*~e the last autumn. He began to be, I thought and hoped, what a sterner teaching might have made him before. He M?emcd a little embarrassed; said no one else had discovered any change in him, and he thought it must be only a reflected light. He bad obs Tved that I had "a r mark able faulty for drawing people out. - What was my witchcraft V I disclaimed ail witchcraft, and toiJ him it was only because I quarrelled with people. A little wholesome opposition had warmed him into quite a flight of fancy. " If I could only," he began, hurried ly ; but took out his watch, said it was time for hira to go, and went off quite hastily. It was very weak in me, bnt I wished very much to know what he would have said. (COXCLITDED NEXT WEEK.) A Dying Man's Repent?. not A few years ago, Rev. Mr. D , a faithful, fearle-s preacber in one of thchiil towns of If.imp Aire county, preached a pointed sermon against the use ot' ardent spirit-;, especially designed for a member of his congregation, who was in the habit of hiring his help at low prices iu con sideratioa of the frequent treats that he furu .ished his workmen. Oid Nat felt himself par ticularly bit by tbe discourse, as thea-i.' fitu-J exactly, and therefore absented himself from church for some two years A few weeks ago he was seized with his last illness and express ed a great anxiety to see Rev. Mr II I before he died. His son went post baste for ; the mini-ter, who of course was qaite ready to respond to the dying man's summons. On entering the room, he was greeted with a cool - dutation, " Mr B , 1 am about to die ; and I Lave sent for you that yon I might Lutc a chaaee to apologize to me for that iiq.ior sermon preached to ue a Lw ago." _ Wisooa asd foixv. — I have olba thought 1 that if the miud? of men were laid opeu, we should see but the difference between thut of the wise man and that of the fool. There are I infinite reveries, numberless extravagances.and a perpetual traiu cf vanities which pas-thron_;b [ both. The great difference is, that tbe fir-: kao*> bow to pick and coil his th nights for conversation, by suppressing some, aud com tnutiicaur.g others, whereas the other let them all indifferently fly oa; in word- This sou of discretion, however, has no place in private conversation between iniimute friends Oa - ;cL occasions the wisest men often talk '-ike t the th .-kest; for iviced the talking with a lh nothing '.so bnt thinking flood VOL. XX. — xro. 39. , FREEMASONRY AND GRIDIRONS.—A worthy I police captain, says the New-York Post, cuter e tained a fancy to hccorne a Freemason, and , was accordingly proposed and elected A f friend accompanied him to the place of meet • ting, which was in a building the lower t part of which was used as a place of entertain t ment. The ncophitc was left in fin apartment to the servant's room, while his friend went op stairs to n-ist in the opening ceremonies. A Celtic maiden, who caught a glimpse o r L the stranger,resolved to take part in his initin- I tion, and procuring a gridiron, placed it over I the range. ft was not long before the captain looking inquisitively through tho door, saw the utensil reddening in the heat. The recollec tion flashed through his mind of Masouic cau i didat/s and some peculiar ordeals which they, : were made to encounter. " What is that, Bridget ?"he eagerly inquir ed. " And sure," replied the Ftibernian virgin, : " it's only the gridiron that I was told to place over the coals." " Who told you ?" asked tlic eager police man. " And was it not the gentleman who ' with yon ?" " What conld he want of it ?' demanded the captain. "And *nrr,sir,T can't tell," replied Bridget: " they arc often using it ; it belongs to the peo ple atKivc stairs, i always heat it when they want to make n Mason." This was too ranch for the excited captain ! and taking to his heels he soon put a safe di tance between himself and the lodge. NATYRAL OYSTER BEDS. —Along the .Jersey shore, where the rivers empty into salt water ( there are natural oyster beds, whence is pro i eurcu the seed oysters which supply the plant :ed lcds. In the spring the oyster in the na ! turai bed deposits its spawn—a white gelatin ous substance, which adheres to whatever it touches—and in this way spreads a large growth of small oysters, some not larger than | the head of a pin. From these seed beds the oysters are taken aud laid in shoal sa't water, to !>e easily taken up wbea want, d, a: i where thry remain for several yeors, till they get suffi cient sise for market. Thousands of bushels of the small seed oysters are in this way di.itri bote-1 along the shore ou the planting grounds or sold to he carried away for planting to other States. The practice is to take these seed oysters away in the spring and fall. If allow ed to remain in their beds over fall, they will separate and spread, but it removed at thai period of the year the young oysters die by the thousand*. If they do not get bedded early in the mod, the tides, blown out by the winds, leave them exposed, or, adhering to the ice in the winter, they arc lifted out their beds ; and either carried away or crashed. Unless something is done for tho protection of these natural oyster beds, it is believed that they w;l[ all be destroyed, and even those engaged in the business, it is said, acknowledge the dc : strnctivciicss of the present mode of operation and desire that the period of taking the oyster? for planting shall he eorficad to the spring of the year. Forty days from the first of April, it is believed, would be sufficient for all plant ing purposes, and an effort will be made at Trenton to get the legislature to limit the plantl. gto that period Clams have been nearly destroyed by the cot tinned raking o* of the barN, and the seed is now oniy kept aw •hi • !-ain ti .* bottoms of the de.t> ehac nels. Lka! Vut—The year in which yo hi dics are permitted to the question" Rib not commence until the 29th of February.— Any year divisible by 4 without a remainder, is hap year, which comes every fourth year. T:ie solar year is 305 days, 4 hoars 43 m?:i uies and 47 "lu seconds. For convenience we drop these boors, minutes and seconds ia our ordinary reckoning, and call the civil year Coo days. Hence we lose nearly a day in thi* reckoning every fourth year—we actnaiiy 100-O in 4 years, four times five hoars, 43 mir;utcs, and 1? seconds, which is not quite a day.— ! But, for ronndnumbers again, wecall it a day, \ and therefore add a day to every fourth Vcar naming it the 29th of February. 01 coarse by thus adding aw h.. !c day, w. add a little too ntnch—nearly 12 minutes : (fear. That in 100 years would amount to, ; Si*y I! 29 minutes, and of course if this ui , rvj-.n: • y al> J wen? not provided for, in tL. j course < f centuries it w ould vitiate the caleode r Therefore, once every hundred years a leap j year is sk'pjw-d for three consecutive centuries, jon the fourth century it is retained because i the balance is a little the other way again.— Thus for three centuries we have au excess of | 33>0 minute.*, leaving a discrepancy of 99'J minutes. This, then, is partially corrected by | continuing the leap year as usual on the fourth century, putting us within about 430 minute* or eight boors ot being right at the end of every fourth century—ucar enough right for ail pr.ct.cal I. - —Ab, there is a touching beauty in tae r-uiani up-look of a girl just crossing the limit.- < f youi!>. at.il com atneing her journey | thr-a_! :?n checkered sphere of womanhood It is ad dew -park!c and moraing glory to her j areicnt, buoyant spirit, and she presses forward esaltit ,• ia blissful mntkij -lions. But the ...Iscr.: lie at ot the corsiiict of lac creeps on; I the dew Jroj exhale ; the garlands of Lojc 1 shattered and dead, strew the path ; and too ' often ere noon tide, the clear brow and sweet -mile are exchaag d Icr the weary look of ore longing for the treuicg rest, the twii.ght | night. Oh, m-y the good God give an | early sleep u-io these cuuy ! ( pfr* Mrs, Smithers has a great idea of ker i' husband's military powers " For two years, savi .':o, " be a i..aWi—a. in inc ho<;e i marie -iter wuick he was pPOGOttU to ti _ li, .ey :* ;rg :ar eocij -ay 'f J