NEM BY IitgICRY J. STAJILE 38" YEAR. Terms of the "Compiler." Berne Republican Compiler isublishel every Monday morning, by limn- p STAIILE, at $1 ; 75 per annum-if-paid-in advance—s2,o4 per annum if not paid in advance. No sub scription discontinued, unless at the option of the publisher, until all arrearages are• paid. sErAdvertisements inserted, at the usual Yates. Job Printing done, neatly, cheaply, and with dispatch. , Siat'Office in South Baltimore street, direct ly opposite Wampler's Tinning Establishment, one and a ha' sitnares from the -- COurV-house, 4 4.jOMPILER" on the sign. - l~oiec, oetj KIND AND SEA. BY BAYARD TAYLOR. The, sea is a jovial comrade, Re laughs wherever he goes ; The merriment shines in the• dimpling lines That wrinkle his hale repose; lie lays him down et the feet of the San, And shakes all over with glee, And the broad-backed billows fall faint on the shore, In the mirth of the mighty sea! = . • But the wind is sad and restless, And cursed with an inward pain ; You may hark as you will, by valley or bill, ' ..But you hear him still complain. Re wails on the barren mountains, And shrieks on the wintry sea! Re sobs in the cedar, and moans in the pine, And shudderi all over the aspen tree. 'Welcome are both their voices, And I know not which is best— The laughter that slips from the ocean's lips, Or the comfortless wind's unrest. There's a, pang in all rejoicing, • A joy in the heart of pain, And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the self same strain ! •- -eoil4l SNIP-SNAP. Cynthia SusartShnpson: aged-eialteen, with the' pretty talent of pleasing men, was the ac knowledged belle of the little Marrow Squash Nall es. . . This little talent of pleasing men is some times given by nature. as a compensation for the lack of every other accomplishment, or the means of proeuringany ; but this was - not the ease with Cynthia, who - had =good _Yankee sense, and a vein of sprightliness in her com position, which latter, as I take it, requires several-other talents for its support, other ',wise it soon degenerates into silline.ss----whence it sours into vulgar ill-nature in the- country girl—in the lady ofsociety, into sarcasm. Cynthia was pretty, in the freshness' of her age. American beauty comes forth like a -sower, and is eut"A.uwa.' The loveliness o girlhood rarely ripens in the matron: And Cynthia was afraid to risk her loveliness, no doubt; for whilst she encouraged the attention of many "beaux," who, in the language of her society; "went to 'see her"-evening after ievening, at the sting farmhouse of her father, whenever any of these swains took the op portunity to press upon her notice the nature ofhis case,,and urge the necessity of its speedy - cure, she cut the matter short with him. . Truth must be said, that anunigst all her admirers there was not one whit *as a priori, that is, before reciproation. of - his love took place—a very desirable match - for her. , - The richest was Seth Taggart, who paid his last visit to her one afternoon, in a bran new suit of glossy, fine, black broadcloth. Pretty Cyltalia:* cs - al - ons - , — an d - prepared - by ). .irevious experienc to discern symptoms of an ap roachitsg assault upon the Malakoff of her 'affections,. Shepursed her pretty little mouth, and sewed, with nimble glancing fingers, on the sleeves of one of the old squire's shirts, of unbleached cotton; and thought to herself - what a foul Seth Taggart was, and wondered how he would get out of the fix in which be found himself, -and how he could dare to think she had given him encouragement—and look ed—very bewitching. Poor Seth sat on the "verge T ol his chair, and gazed through the -window, which was open, into" the woods, but his was a mind like that of Wordsworth's Peter, . primrose. no the river's brim, A yellow primrose was ,tti Awl nothing nsore. ,, He did not find any inspiration in the woods, So he began to look into the ashes. you Cynthia," said he, at length, "did you ever see it crow?" "Yes, Mr. Seth," said she, folding her gus -set,—and looking down at -it demure' as a Black—ain't it ?" said Seth "Very." Then came a pause. "Darn it—l wish she'd help me out," said Seth in his own thoughts. • The-li-ttle_mi n • • want to say, and she might help me to say it." What unifillas not th,w;hrtliii4efert - Tivo , at courting time—and wished to borrow femi nine tact, and the larger experience of woman, to help him out of the slough of despond he is beginning to sink into ? What an would not give the world to know how the last man who offered himself to her, got-thrAuigh_with_it2 "Ever see an owl ?" said Seth at lengt , falling back upon his own resources. ' "Often, Mr. Seth," lisped pretty Cynthia. -"lt's got big eyes—ain't it now ?" "Very big eyes," said she. . Seth grew angry. Angry wittliimself, • doubt; but anger, like Phoebus Apollo at sun set, glows brightest in reflection. He thought it a '.'mean shame," she wouldn't "help him out," while she s. t there, looking, " . . enough to eat," and laughing at him, as even his blunt perception told him, whilst her at tention was—apparently bestowed upon the .shirt sleeve. He wished it were his shirt she was stitching so assiduously. He stirred up the ashes on the and almost made up his mind that "she warn'tgoins• , ive another chance at him:" but Cynthia dropped' her cotton-ball, and Sigh, not rising -from 16 , 4 chair, stretched out his long, lank arm, and icked it u . He touched her hand, as she took it back, and an e ectric s toe: ri e, through his veins, and made him feel "all over—ever so," as he some time afterwards expressed the sensation to me. . . .........-- __ - - - _____ _. ___ _ -___ . -_-_ ---- _ ~ . - . . _ _ ._- ~ . , , . - . . . 6' ' • ~ . , . . . 11, .'. - -I- -: .00/‘ ._ . , ._ ~„:..: .- • .. s: . .. .. . .... ~..,,,. .• .. , ._ _.. , 4 'it •__ _ _ . . . . _ . , ittr . . . _ , _ ___,,_ a 7:4ii?4 ffe.,l3l3p4pet ---beboie3 fo 7Lifel-gtoe, 10)0 eicqatli ).oelli9ediNe, &e. Fiem Putnam's Magazine "Miss Cynthy, may be you are fond of maple candy ?" "Very," -said she. "Well, now," said Seth, rising,.. "the next time-I come, I'll - try and bring you a great gob." But as he rode - home, behind his old farm mare, he said to himself, "I reckon I ain't going back to court a gal who sees a feller in a fix and never helps him." And sure enough, he never did return. Miss Cynthia lost her richest lover, and many folks, even to this day, believe she-wished him back again. it ie the way of women to want a - thing that - can't be ha/ At least; n men say (if not in practice, in theory),and Cynthia's mouth watered, I dare say, or many a week after, for that gob Of maple candy. Tun MonAL.----Let every man, oh! pretty girl, pay court to you in his own way, and not in your way, and help him out, at that, beinc , sure, however, that you are in harmony with his Mode of procedure. sever disturb ice cream-when it is going to freeze; nor lift the pot as it begins to boil ; nor make a false step and get out of time, when your partner is mediating a revers in the deux feinps, or the polka. 'Many a declaration of affection has been frightened off by some wrong note sung in the treble of the , duet which put it out of • harmony. • Cynthia, though so pretty a girl, and so ex perienCed in the art of saying "no," to an offer of marriage, had yet a good deal to learn in her own craft; and, indeed, no experience ever primes a woman for the decisive moment. Each case must be met on principle, and not on precedent. It is our business to discover, in this story of "Snip-Snap," how far pretty Cynthia profited by the experience she prided herself upon in the rejection of her lovers. It was a mellow autumn morning and a russet glow had tinged the woods at the back of 'Sqt i e Simpson's homestead. It was Seth Taggart's wedding day. He was to marry, that evening, Susie Chase—a smiling little rose-bud of a wife, to whom he found plenty of things to say, as sweet to Susie's ears as . to-her—lips his maple_eaud_y_:___Cynthia,_as one of her best friends, was to be bridesmaid ; and as she wished to shine that night, in all her bravery, and wanted some. new ribbons for her headdress, this want tempted her abroad, a little after noon, when the-harvest fields were quiet and the yoked oxen stood re lieved_froml aboritisurely . c_b ewin the sweet morsel reserved for that soft, sunny hour of rest, as men of husines use to do the thought of the last letter - written by the 'hand they love, till the burden of the 'day is laid aside, putting it apart (with all its woman's nonsense and half unreasonable fancies), pure from the contact of.the pile. of yellow letters lying on their desk—offerings upon. the shrine-ofd upi— ter Mammon.- 'Our , pretty Cynthia tripped i►long her path, scattering a cloud of grasshoppers and crick ets, as she stepped ; and in. her 'silly little pride of bellehood her heart held, though she ;would not have confessed the thought, that' he relative value to her crowd of beaux was in the same •ro )ortion as that of one woman to many grass uppers. At a turn iu the path she came suddenly on one of these admirers—Frank Handy. Frank's face flushed. He had been thinking of her when she surprised. him—thinking of her all that day and through a sleepless - night ; and . in those hours ;the Cynthia of his fancy had smiled on him, and laid her gentle hand in his, and had been gathered to his heart—it was a shock to come thus suddenly upon so different a reality. At the moment,. he cu countered her, he way indulging himself in an imaginary love scene, in which h was calling her, in heart, "My Cynthia, my love," and at the sudden sight of her, all such presumptuous fancies fled in haste, and Hid themselves, shrinking like varitinted coral polypes when danger approaches—each into the recesses of its ce 1. "I beg your pardon, Miss Cynthia," he said, stammering before he gathered self-posses sion, and accustomed himself to her presence. "I was on my way to make you a call. If you will allow me, I will turn around and walk with you." "I am not going far, Mr. Frank, only into the yillage'„for some ribbon fir my hair, and gentlemen dislike shopping," (knowing per feetly well that he would go with her.) - "I know where a wild hop-vine grows," said he; "it would make a much prettier ornament fOr your hair than any ribbons you could buy in the village." "And will you get me sonic?" "Turn this way into the woods and .spare me half an hour while I twist it into a wreath. I am going away from here to-morrow, per haps. I have been offered a profiissorship in a school of agriculture." "Indeed, Mr. Handy." There wa.s a pause, and Cynthia resumed, a little hurriedly: "I should think you would like going away from here. - There is ImM-fig to tempt a young gentleman to remain among us.,, "I shall like it, in some. respects, better . than my present life," said Handy. "This farmer's life when there are no hi,her in- terests to accompany it, does not draw out -the-best energies-ofis-nature T -lik , his thoughts, goes round and round in the routinerlike a squirrel in its cage, and makes no progress." "This man thinks higher things than I think," was Cynthia's thought as he said this, and_fora_moment _she_feltLltumbled kpresence;-but--she her pret , .nsio • - membered her bellehood and her conquests, and the light in which she always had been looked upon by all her lovers, and was almost disposed to revenge upon Frank Handy the i hrf'ut itti----Fr-n-k-ivtoti-iit silence, twining the hip-wreath for her head. He did not speak. His thoughts were busied with the words that he would say to her when - • ' e her waiting at his side—waiting for the hop wreath, with its pale green bells, that he was twining leisurely ; and Cynthia grew impa tient as she found he did not speak to her.— She addressed him several questions, which he answered with an air of prececupation. She wandered from - his side a A'ew yards among the rocks, turning over with, her foot some peb bles covered with gray and orange moss, and disturbing all the swarm of busy insed life, lyhich male its home there. The influence ri to-fierimai-tranti-nrade-her- answrs more soft and natural At last Handy broke silence, calling her to him as she stood watching the stir which the GETTYSBURG - , PENNSYLVANIA : MONDAY, MAY 213, 1850. point of her foot had produced in an ant-hill. "Miss Cynthia!' "Is it finished?" she said, quickly. "Not the garland—but the struggle in my breast is finished. I have been questioning with myself whether I should say to you what I am about to say." Cynthia 'gathered a leaf, and began slowly to tear apart its delicate veins and fibres. "Miss Cynthia, is it pleasant to you to have a man say he loves you ?". "I don't know, Mr. lhndy. I suppose so. That is, I think itis_very embarrassing_some times." - - "Why, embarrassing, Miss Cynthia?" Ire was taking her on ;I, new tack. It was dif ferent from any she had ever before experi enced. She did not like this way of having his Offer. - "It is embarrassing when I know that my only answer can be No," she said, looking him in the face a moment, and then casting "her eyes upon the lime leaf she was dissecting. • "It would be more embarrassing, 1 think, if you were not so sure," he said, "and if you took the matter into consideration." "It never wants any consideration with me," site answered. "What'. did you never place before your mind the subject of marriage ? Have you been satisfied with the vain triumphs of a belle ? And did you never local beyond, to see what the happy du tills of a wife, and the sweet ties of home might be?" Cynthia laughed, but the laugh was affected and constrained. "What nonsense, ;111% Han dy!" "It 'is not nonsense," ho replied ; "such 'thoughts are fit for maiden meditation—they arc womanly—and womanly, above everything, else. I should wish my wife to be." • "I hope 'She may be all you wish her, Mr: Randy. We will go now, if yuu please', if you have finished my garland." . "It is'not ready fur you vet," said Handy, ,passing' it over one arm while he took her hand, "Cynthia, beloved! you must listen to me." She drew her hand away, but he took it again and resumed. "You must let me feel its Julses beat ani,inst in • hand while I tell you-the secret of my life---of my life, for I have always loved you. • I loved you when you were a blooming little girl, and we both went to school to Ezekias Bred, dear Cynthia.: I have hesitated to tell you this,,because encum brances on my farm made- my positiOn less than that which I tboolit on rht to he offered to you. I have watched you with other a( - wirers, and, in some moments, have- not thought that any other had your preference, ao that other men have taken their chance be fore me. Thin offer of a professorship; Which adds a thousa,uddollars to my income, makes it possible for Me to address you, Cynthia! there are-depths of tenderness which no human eye has ever fathomed, in many a strong man's heart—depths which, perhaps, are never, by the shallowest nature of your sex, entirely rer eiprocated or understood. It is not alone my heart, it is my very nature—heart and,soui, mind and strength—that I offer to you. The love of you, like things-which plants absorb and assimilate into their own growth, has be- , . . Como par 0 . 111 --- tTne - rtf- feet o it, Cynthia. It has -waited patiently until .the moment came when it-might lie oil layto Your acceptance. Cynthia, if you will lay this little hand in mine ' " (and he letit but stretched out his hand towards her,) "I will strengthen you, and elevate you, and guide you. You shall be a woman Of higher rank (as Gr,d ranks women) fur your union with a man's stronger, steadier, and more sin gle-minded nature and Cynthia, your , influ once for good on Inc will be incalculable. Who can estimate what a man owes to the affection of woman? All that I have iii my power sill be doubled by your influence. You must draw forth—perhaps create, the gentleness, delicacies, and the tenderness of that compltne the manly character." 1 - le - panser4-an d-C-ynth ia-stood-with-her-h an hidden in the folds of her mantle. "No," she .said slowly ; "I am sorry, Mr. Handy, but I cannot be what you -wish to you." There was an embarrassed silence bet Ween them for a few moments, and then Cynthia, gathering eowage with her rising pride, con tinued, "I am notgood enough to answer your ex pectations, Mr. Handy. You must look else where for the kind of woman who will satisfy yen." Handy started, and his face Bushed eager ly. Ile was about to speak. Cynthia caught the lightning of his eyes; but when they rest ed on her lace, he saw that her words were not wholly sincere„and the look faded. "You are not dealing fairly with me, Miss Cynthia, nor yet with your own heart," he said, a little bitterly, "You are notconvinced of what you 'said this moment. You think in your- heart I am a foolish fellow,-and - that t ask too much. You 4.,n0t-think that Cynthia Simpson falls short of the reasonable ideal'of any man:" "I don't know why you should say such, things," said Cynthia, growing angry and nearly ready to cry. It was the first time any offer had been made to her which had not left behind it a sell-satisfied feclinn• of triun»h ; and yet here was Frank Handy, as meompar• ally-superiol• to any other-suitor-she-had-ever had no,matter." "Miss Cynthia," said Frank, "when a man loves a woman, as t have long loved von, he singles her out from the whole w9rlif as his representative of womanhood ; and there is that in_ before which he bow, down, drain;.; • ( • - am 1 IMEMMENKO But this does not imply unconsciousness of her own capability. Arid that marriage is true union, in which the husbar►d, up to whom she looks, and on whom she should lean, strength -t-n,bor—better-ia-its-struggle-agaiust her stars,_ er nature." They were walking towards the homestead and walking fast. Cynthia was angry, dis turhed and mortife•d. Was this a time t 4) dwell upon leer—fault.-?—She admittd—t4p. she had some.—Vague confession by no means implying, that Cynthia knew that, at that moment, she was, proud, vain, in ,ircere, and petulent, she was crushing down the bet ter feelings of her heart, to ci ;e the victory within her to the worst. If handy wanted her, she thought, he might woo her with more re spect to her pretentions. And he shoidd woo her. If he loved her, as he said he did, she knew her power was great. Ile should bring -ItifOtontagelnot.-coldiy to tlie-wontaulo%od with in her, but to herself—to Cynthia Susan Simp sfAt, in spite of the full display of all her faults, and cve in _opposition to his better reason. Ul2=l:M= She was not to he defrauded of her triumph, and it would be a great otie indeed, - it' sho forced him, by her limits themselves, to surren der at discretion. They reached the steps over the stone fence which led on - to the highway. In their path lay a disabled. grasshopper. Frank set his foot on it andcrushed it firmly. "Miss Cyn thin." said he, "few women have the courage to - treat rejected suitors thus. It is the true Immunity." He helped her over the steps, and paused. —He took the hop wreath carefully _from his arm, and gave it into her hands; She took it with an indifferent air, and, its sIM took it, crushed some of the green blossoms. She would have treated hint with more courtesy (had Frank but known it,) if she had been en tirely indifferent to his admiration. "Miss Cynthia," said he, now in a grave and measured tone, which _in spite of herself impressed her with a sense of the powerless ness of her little arts when bronght.into con flict with his self-possession and sincerity, "1 know very well you have dealt by ninny men, and I am not disposed to tall; into the ranks, and take my chance among your ninny other patient suitors. It is true that the wound that von inflict on me, will leave it sore fir' life ; Nit I cannot make my self-respect an offering event you. Anil if you have the feelings of true nobleness, which I have always fancied I discern in von, you wouN u Tspect me, esteem me, love me less, fur such sacrifice. 1 shall never offer myself again toyou." Cynthia start ed. Slight and rapid as her movement was, he saw it, and repeated, "shall never offer my self again to you. To-night I shrill be at the wedding. lam groomsman to Setli Taggart, and shall stand up with you. I am going home to consider - fully what has passed, to convince myself (if I can) calmly, whether my love for you has been an error in my life, for which my judgment is responsible, or only it .1 misfortune ; wlnther the Cynthia 1 have loved I is really capaEle,as I have dreamed, of scat tering the clouds that dip her b e huty, a nd shining forth in her sweet queenliness_upon the lonely darkness of the man who can teach her what it is to love.—l do not know what I shall think, To -day has shaken my confidence in you. As I saidTailcl shall Make you no further offer ; but, if I make up any mind tli . renew the one I have just made you, I shall say Snip during the evening; and if you answer Snap! I shall understand it is favora bly received byyou. Mind," he added,' "I think it doubtful whether, notwithstanding Ili fip* - I Shall fir ik it - •ht tr thy love for you, ,nat. _ x) say it. ham going into the fields to 'meditate till eventide' upon my course, and I may bring back the conviction, that for the present rejec tion of nry suit. I ought tii he much obliged to `you. Nor shall I say Snip! more than Once. in this uncertainty I leave the matter to your cungideration.' "What impertinence!" thought Cynthia—`-`I never heard of such a thing !" And she be gan to cry, standing alone upon the highway, holding her hop wreath in her hand. "I don't know what I had better do. I wish he had taken some other way of speaking to -me. Oh ! why should he be so very unkind ? I don't care. It is his loss a great deal more The evil spirit was coming back, and it whispered, "Ile will certainly say Snip? but you had better not Y:ty Snap! too readily." She walked on thinking, imagining a tri umph, when suddenly the thought came toiler, that she was confessing to herself she wanted to, say Snap!—and why ? It was not .possible that the taliles of her pride were turned upon her ; that it was in Prank Handy's power to refuse to take ; that she loved him ! "I don't rare for him at all," was the suggestion of the had angel. only want to teach him for the future to behave. lie is a presuming, exacting, self-conceited fellow." `•llave you ever, in the coulTe'of your_ex perience,' said the good ang,el, "seen any otl►er man like Frank? has not the conver . ati on-t in your csteem....which is....which must ..That is, he stands_before you in u light in which no other man bas ever • stood before?" "I don't believe lie loves me," said her perverse heart, "or else he would have taken great dead more pains to me." "Ah f"- said the good angel, "what: better love earn a man give, than that which sees your faults and strengthens you against them': True, he has set his ideal of "womanhood so high, that you do not come up to it ; but lie SPOS in you caruhilities for good, beyond those of other women, though to the lieighth of your capabilities you have never attained," '• J a ...I. shall be a worse woman, and an un happy woman , if I do not love Fra,ak !randy, and if Frank Ilandy dues not love me," said her heart, now turning to its better instincts, as she threw herself upon her little white, dirfifty covered bed, in her own chamber, and, shutting - out the light from her eyes, thought what life would be if Frank never said Snip! —Frank, who was even then -walking-in—the fields, trying to think all the harm he could of her. Here she lay, and cried, and disquieted her (ilf in Vain. And she thought aver all the _oud she had ever beard of Frank IlandY,and —:=trunge!—that t long it seemed to er is m4-the-goofl-word and-, ,pi n - o f-_4_ery_ mat who knew him, no one had ever quite seemed to approciate him to hi:, full value. Perhaps he h a d n ever shown hip; inmost heart to other people as he had to her. Her wounded feeling seized upon the Kahn she found in each thought.—Frank was-not a man to Ina forth g g 41 . # . It -ft---11-Itl much in calling him conceited and preunnng. lie had spoke only what he had a, right to think about his own sincerity ; and oh ! how Au: iiiCilie - d ho could think a great deal better Lk . -2, Miring the burst of tears that followed reflection, the great farietea-bell rang. ,Cyn thia sprung from her bed and wiped her eyes. If she looked as if she had been crying. might riMgffivqvirMffl"rurffmsN• - s • - Seth Taggart?—Seth Taggart, indeed ! She wasn't to cry for losing; anyman; And the evil spints resumed their sway. So Cynthia went down stairs towering in pride and wrath: She hail half a mind not togo to the wedding. No, she could not do that. People would certainly ray things she would not like about her and . Seth Taggart, if she staid away. It was delicate ground withiler, this matter of Seth Tag , gart's, because he had uado.-14.er-ani,t-offor. think tuen-tr women shamefully," said Cynthia in her thoughts, sum-honing up all her wronms at once, as she sat at the tea-table, priming her- lien' 'with pride against the weakness before which she felt her courage giviiig way. "Cynthia, I reckon you'd best go and dress you,",said her mother, as she was clearing away the table after -tea ; "you leave the things, and I'll wash up and put away. It will 'take you some time to fix yourself, and you ought to..be there early, if you are going, to stand up with &ie.". "Who's the groomsman, Miss Bridesmaid?" said her father. "Frank Handy, sir," said Cynthia with a toss of her. head. "l la liamry said — li - e - r father, "a right' clever fellow is Frank. It'll be a lucky woman he stands up with to he married to." Cynthia- escaped to her oWn room, and she began to cry again. There I her father spoke well of Frank; but nobody could know hun as well as she • knew him. Oh ! he only would come back. •W hy Hadn't she known the state of her own heart that morning? But he took her so by surprise, and all her evil feelings had got uppermost at the moment. It would ' be very cruel of him—very—not to try her again. • Thus she thought until she was sufficiently advanced in her toilet to put her wreath on. Should she wear it? Would it not be confes sing ton much, if he were to see it in her -hair? She looked for - some ribbons in her drawer, but at this moment her father called her, and said, if she came quick he would drive her over to Susie's before h e unharnessed the old mare. So she put on the hop wreath in a hurry, giv ing it the benefit of 'her doubt, and its trem bling green' bells mixed with the light curls of her pretty sunny hair. "Where did you got that thing froth ?" said ber . father. "It's mighty tasty, I . declare. (live the a kiss, evntiv. I hope vonr beaux will think you look' hall as pretty as * / do. And it's better; my child, to be admired by your old father, who loves You, than by a crowd of foolish fellows, half' of whom get round pret ty girl just like my flock of sheep out yonder, one follohing because another is making up to her." . , "Foolish fellows!" They were "foolish fel lows." But Frank Bandy was not ono of Ahem. Frank had never followed in her train sufficiently to be counted "one of her . suitors. It was this very "foolish" flock, whose ranks he scorned to enter. All that her father said; seemed to justify her nascent feeling. She kissed the old man's ruddy cheek, attd felt as if tho callow love, that fluttered at her heart, had almost been made — wehlutne nation. "What time shall I come for you, Cynthia?" said he, as she alighted at Susy's dom.. "Ohl not till...late, father," she - said hur riedly. "Stay—not at all. Some of the young men will walk - home with nie: or, if they don't;' I'll , come with Tommy Chase. He's only eleven, but he's tall of los age." - And new Cynthia found herself in the bride chamber. 'filo pretty little rose-bud, blushing in her wedding muslin, and going to be very happy, liceause... - . well, it takes a great deal more sense than, Susie had to bo unhappy in life when one is blessed with a sweet temper and a good-digestion,- --44-s'uperadded-power-of suffering isa proof of an advance in organiza tion, and we submit the argumentto the seep tic; whether this truth does not imply the ne cessity of some power or influence whiCl► shall counterbillanee and adjust this sensitivCness to suffering, in the highest natures. Cynthia was waited for to put the finishing touches to the bridal toilet, tie. Cynthia had taste, and Cynthia among her "girls" had a reputation fhr good: nature. Her fingers fail ed her, and she trembled more than the bride did when the buggy that had been sent for the minister stopped at the, kind of the brick path which led up to the hiones)tead. She saw Frank Handy in his bridal suit' going down to receive the minister. "Cynthia, you go and tell the gentlemen n " Cynthia shrank back. But as bridesmaid it'was her ofliee, and the others pushed her to the door. "She didn't want to see Seth Taggart, I reckon," said 0110 of the girls in a' half whis ' per. "Don't you see how pale she has groWn." Cynthia fursified this speech by looking scarlet before the girl addressed could turn her head ; and 'she opened the door or the room, where the bridegroom and his men were caged ; with an air in which assumed in difference was strongly niatked, and ~"Gentlemen, we are ready," with a toss that sent the hop-bells dancing in her head. Seth, long and lean, and shiney, in his wed ding suit, as a snake in anew skin, took little Susie on his awkward arm; Frank Handy, quite collected, and self-possessed, offered his to the bridesmaitl, and they followed the bride and bridegrAm into the best parlour. Cyn thia and Frank were parted, when they took their places for the ceremony. It was only a moment that she leaned upon- his arm ; but -that-moment gave her a new sensation. It was a pride, such as no woman need be ashamed of, in resting upon manly strength. His arms did not tremble, though all - her nerves seemed twittering like wires stretched and suddenly let lose. he seemed so strong, t . 73 — 7 4 e 777477,u7, M - 71ut7 — = hegan_to eel her own_unworthiness, and to_ misqust her power. She cast her eyes'down during the service. tried to bring her rebel nerves under control --lie heard nothing, and saw no one. The tuinit•ter had bles,ed them both, and kissed the bride. Everybody came round the pair with salutations. 'lime kissin , : was rather in- iscrinuna e. e c mulct it) ) kissing all the girls, and of course he kissed the bridesmaid.. I fis former sensation of "all over—ever so," transferred itself to her in a different way. She would as soon: have kiss ed a clam. _ "Cynthia, you and Frank bring in the cake. You seem to forget all you have got to do," said one of the young girls of the party. Noni I ral ri( esrmu._ ing, and I declare,J don't believe you have taken the prix i lege of the kiss you are entitled to." Frank was curled away from the side of a lady in blue, a stranger- .from the city, who hail been brought by some of the guests. She had !mother acquaintances, and Frank seem r . ed to be attentive to her. "I beg your pardon, Miss Cynthia," said he, writing from the lady, and taking no no •ro • the latter art of the s eeeh that NV`l,4 addressed to lulu, "let us do all that is expect ed of - They went together into tho pantry, and were alone. Cynthia thought, "If he intends to say Snip 1 now is the moment." But Frank was intent on arranging the cake on plates, and disposing them on a large waiter. Cyn thia felt ready to cry. She took refuge in si lence, and the cake. -It May have been the sweet, unwholesome smell of wedding cake 'which made her head ache violently;' , "It is a foolish custom,"' said Frank; as they, arranged the cakeil. "Foolish that per sons because they are happy, should want to makn'other folks sick. But there is a great deal of- selfishness in the display of newly married — happiness—as--that -essay- by Elia tells us." Frank sighed, and that sigh revived the courage of Cynthia. Now she thought he will say "Snip I" Can I say "Snap 1" Oh, no. She put on a little coquetry. "You will not have any cake at your wedding, Mr. Frank," she said. "Everything about will be the per fection of good sense and reason." She bad not intended to be sarcastic, but as the speech fell from her lips, it sounded so.— lt was trifling—unwcirthy. She, wislreCshc had not said it. Its tone was out of hat:ninny,: with what she-felt.- "Come," said Frank, "letus feed them!' He took one of the handles of the.tray . i andthe bridesmaid took the other. The , room was , very merry. The cake was served-withplen ty of noise, and the wine after it. Frank seemed to be quite self - possessed ,. attentive to everybody. - Cynthia's , beaus could make nothing of her. She answered their ques- - tions wrong. A rumor ran that she was wearing the willow for Seth Taggart. She _declined to dance, on the, ground that she must keep herself disengaged for her duties as bridesmaid, and, indeed, her head ached.; so she feared the motion. Agonized, by - her self consciousness, and with too little spirit • left to make head against the reports that were going about, she could not but perceive that Frank seemed not to 'remember her. "Who is that lady in blue; Mr, /lanai is so. taken up with ?" she said to one of the party. .Cynthia had always called him "Frank" be fare, but consciousness: Made her now reject , - Ake - • • "Oh ! that is somebody very wonderful.' tv erybody else- is afraid to speak to her. She has written a book. Frank seems to he right down flirting with her=doesn't he? I de clue, new,- he always wanted somebody-out' of the way. Nobody here was good . enough • for Franc - Ilavu yon - heard - he - hag - been - of= fered a.professorship, - and is 'going* away -?- He is going to live in the same place she does. I shouldn't wonder at his courting her—should you?" . . "I don't bare," said Cynthia in -her heart,- "I don't care. Oh-! yes I'do. I care that he has weighed the in the balances so calmly this afternoon, and found me so unworthy, that be takes-back the love he has offered e.' Has he not judged me xery cruelly ? Or am I quite unworthy of hiKattaclinient? . To think_ that this morning I had it in my power to' be happy all my life, when I refused him I Oh t hew can any one compare any man withktat And he loved me only to-day—and ruriv,,to-: Aliglit,---hg : reason-saya_Lam_not-good *ugh_ to .be his wife ; and he is afraid of being. un happy - with me. Indeed,' I am not good ,enough—but I would try to be." ".. . If you would'snip it." • . It was Frank Handy's 'voice. She caught_ the word, and looked up oagorlyt Frank saw her and stopped, embarrassed. He was hold ing-up a torn fold in the dross of his partner in blue. "If I knew where to . find a needle and thread," said the authoress, with a half look at the bridesmaid. "I know. Let me sew it up for you," said Cynthia. All All her pride hod left her. She felt-h,um, bled to the dust. It Would be a "relief to do something for this women—better than her elf--whom lornek_preferred to her. "Let me do it," she said earnestly,. "Mr. Handy; I shall depend upon your escort." Frank Handy bowed, and the girls went to gether into a bed room. Escort.?--was it his escort to the city ?—lle had told her he Should 'go there. bytithia sewed 'up the hole in the blue - dress, very sadly and. quietly. The animation faded from the young author ess's face, as she looked down on Cynthia's' quivering - lip, and saw a big tear fall upon her sewing. She had heard some one say, she had been the victim of false hopes raised by . Seth Taggart; and had in her heart de spised her fur it; but now she felt as if the sad heart-broken love bestowed on him en dorsed him far better than ho looked. it was a woe, however, to which she could not openly allude. But, as Cynthia sot the list stitch in her dress, she stooped down and kissed her. "Every sorrow has its lesson," ,she said, "as every weed has a drop of honey in its cup.—_ Blessed are they who suck that drop, and store itfor good uses." She had gone, and Cynthia was left alone. —Yes, she had much to learn. This night's experience had taught her that her reign was over, and her career of bellehood run. She, Mlt=l= to her new task_ori - 3elf improvement. She would have - her dear old father's love, and live at home, and little children, too, should learn to love her. And then perhaps, some day when they both grew old, Frank Handy might—perhaps,-sonic - day—see;tliat he had judged her hastily, and not to be glad as he " Sty- every improvement in her would be due to . his influence though unseen ; and so even in her lonely life, he would not be altogethor disso ciated from her. She sat in the dark, with lipr bond. ela,arel field over her burnino. ford ead. She heard voices in the passages. The par ty was breaking up. People were beginning I • • s • • ..!1 • i . l .0 haps during that hour Frank might hare changed his mind. She had deprived herself of the opportunity. She started up and hurried out amongst the company. They were all getting their cloaks and shawls on. Frank in his great coat, was standing impatiently at the house door. 4 1 aun r eady," said the lady in blue, present -11:11: Mffl Frank raised his - hat to the company; and took her on his arm. iut t at our, ssi somehn y, "and let the night air into the house." So the door closed with a jar that went to NO. 35. won it, wo`uld set herself Mil