A. J. GERRITS
Mistellintrus.
gif,a. Ileveng
HOW IT WORKED 'AND ROW IT-
=con
en.terEtt h--..-111.6 REVENGE:
'Open the-window, wife, and let in
air. Phew ! this place is enougli to el
one."
It MIA a close, sickening atmosphere t
The oharnberirits dark and low, and
old tester-bed, hong round with check
tains, lay something covered with a r
. conaterparie;
The speaker approached the bed,drew
the soiled coverlet, and started back
beheld a ghastly face, with eyes
.uotsl
and rigid jaws.
•Come here, lltonah—come bete. I
Zebedee: dead
Ile man spoke - in. a !Ow tone, then t
and looked at his vcifta.—She sias a neat
gent'e looking woman ; he a 6te, b
shouldered man.. a
'Oh, Richard 1' The woman's face
Nuiee expressed her horror at the sigh
tore her. It was death in Its most rep
form. An old man, wilb pinched send
erd features, with beard unshaven and
unclosed, lay on that wrttehed, bed. st:
upward; as though, hovering over his c.
he still beheld the awful presence tha
nounced his doom:
It . was Zebedee Peel:, tle miser, ah
there, stark and dead ; and the_ man '
ttonc-mason'sdre4s, standing by the bed
was Richard Mallet, Lis nephew, a wor
mason.
`God ha' mercy on him:. said the
after a silence, daring which he and Mi
-Rood gazing; xNI axe on the faceof tl.e
'Yell need it, poor soui ' hadn't t,
mercy C.r. otheti,'
Through. the open wintlow came .a
icor of vuic, s fr,m the court below,
there was a nose
. 0; fowsteps nn the stai
Ilere age the
,Tianuab.
look tip; lagn. These'. lo:A to be -doer.
Rickard, Mallet threw the shtet over
faee of the dead, and went 4
the d•
tipvt. the new corners. There was a g
troop, principally women. -Corinsity
written t,n every face. Peck's Cou,t
beim in a sae of - excitement for s;
L'or two da3s past the old mise'r's ai
had been Shut up, and nobody Lad seen
thing of its owner. At first it was supp
to 143 one of Middy Peek's' whims, ate.
eceentriciti , being well known, no
troubh..4} thestiSelres about the niatter.
nest day i was teported. early in the u
ing. that the old missr had had a fit ;
itoon it was sti that he Lad burg himse
his frarttns Dom a beam in .the Vzarret •
lastly, towards,ereuirte. it was asserted
he had I...ecn‘tatttrtictr . tiv.ftll7'
Wuntb-red'ibe str.d est.-..aped ore
'tend; walL—Wh-r:upon a cenmltattion
converted at ti.e pump, by the manors
court, a . to what ough: to be dune untie
circumstnEceti.land carious resolutions
proposed: On e lady proposed the effeet
a watchman', rattle, and a cry of , "Fi
under the window; another adrorated a
ladder, and it desta:Mt thr.lw..ll the
I hitd wt ß f r havi:rn_ a policeman .tent 6;*4
lreaking open the front door smith the s
aim of the law ; while a fourth, an and
cued washeiswomari, suggested sendim
once fs,r Wuhan! Mallet. old Peck's eel
'and nearest relatite. Toil ltiight idea ca
the day ; an.r a dect messenger was at
de-fa:cited 1 r the stone-masen and his u,
'in vrce of life and death;' as the messe
was sttictly eij ine , d to say.
theref,re, IZichatd Mallet pr. I
ed to inform the neicrl.bors that his uncle I
I can found dead in his Led,and nothing
there 'was something like disappoint
w•itten on their anxious faces.' The
Lad made up it: mind to a terrblia c.
tropLie 7 -a suicide .at the least ; and i
there wou'ld be nothing but a emotes'
quest after all. However, with that to I
forward' Co, tied the question of the in
wealth to disen,,s, it had gained some:.
and so th'e mutt recovered its equanimit
`lles done then: rt. .lit=t Well,
id] mortal, roil Fee Y." "Ilk money is H
to 111tH utrrr :" Vitrelunon7, the pious re
ut:errd by the by-stander, as they cro
toantil his bed.
•Lt-i'a hop e 'his monpy will zo into .b
bands, marm,' said The intelligent wa
woman, addressing herself io Mrs. M I
'Yon mesa% fret, my dear, \it's the - wa
Providenee, and alt f,cr the best, yoti
Seeing that My'. Mallet bad never s
to the . deceasA a dozen times all the t
years of her married life, it required no ).
amount of resignation on her part to
She was oLly pale and frightened. •
`GO home,- Hannah,' whispered her
bend ; see things,and get these r
sway_ .lion't tell Jess: .
Richard came home before long.
treatth,was swept, the supper ready, the
put to Led, and little Jes : eis, the - lame •
sewing on. her stool by the fire. The
-bung niiitfa hat and coat behind the ki
~bor~ washed oil• the lime and mortar.
his hasids., and then—a : clean, intell
looking map—came and sat down t
supper. .
'Come here, Jesie,' said he, - when the
was finiked. •
The Child hobbled to - him on her ernt
' lousremeinber Uncle Zeb, don't you
old man we went to rte once, eh`.?' Ri.
kissed the child's forehead;
'Yes, father?
'Well, heft dead, my girl; he's dead,
you yemernher what he ?aid to you that
day we want to him I'
- .'Yee. His asked me if I'd like to
rich' woman, and hare a floe house
go ab,ienisl t and said no, because Ico
help mother to noiw, or get your t ea
then.! •
'What elbe did he say
, said ; `When - old Thiele Zelie dea
dear, you'll find be hadn't togot you;
then—then I, began to eiT,bevause he g
at nit so.' *
'Yes: its true enough. Tirrtt's wh y
Irannabfreirfarked Richard; Loral .1
Lin wife. . never 'said a lord about it .
nor since; 631: 423 It sias - better
But be told me how al be'hae *tie, his
and bad not forgot . - this child.'
Mrs. Mallet almost- dropped: the. IT
ic her hAr. , l- in her ainathineCt'
II . .
•i M= II . .
i v
_
I Aibiri
_ "WE JOIN °vital:was TO NO PARTY THAT DOES NOT CARSIT TECC FLAG AND KEEP siriii-tei
ON, PUBLISHER. I , MONTROSE, PA., FEBRUARY 17; 1859.
...--. 7 ,_
:----
i i
Too don't think it's true, o you Rieh•
ard I'
'Can't say, my dear. lie waas cunning
es a fox, and deceitful as Old Nick. More
li
likely left it to a hospitiq. Anyhow,
the will is found, and, as he'll ihe busied to
moirowore shall know afore for.' -
Richard Mallet seemed to ta e the matter
very cooly: Not so, however, with his wife.
The bare idea of their poor lamchild inher
iting any of the hoardings 14 Peck, the
i
0.
owner of nearly all the lionse ' in, the court,
and the reputed possessor of au account at
a bank in the city, was too muel for her.—
The wildest hopes were excited in her Mind ;
she couldn't think and talk of nothing
else. , , . ..,
SOLOS
'lake
uly.
the
cur
ged
o•
'Well, Richard:was ber concl i
iakag remark
thit night, "we've been happy a I thew years,
and yet we've never mejt the! color of. his
mosey; itid . , 'after all, we win do without
it. Him ahnuld leave us anything, it won't
betbat wave been seeking fuel it ; nobody
Can say that, We're bad to!) much pride
eves' to demean ourselves by co ming - hittl for .
Silt nroriay's sake ; and ever sin e h, abused
you so, fur marrying me, nobody can say
you have cared for his favor.'
'You're right there, Hannah. 1 1
If atiY, of it
should come to us; we'll know it's come as
it ought. Don't be too sure on l it, though—
Uncle Zeb was just the man tu : play ns - 11.
trick at the last. lie never fuigave, he al
wars said.' .. !
it was well, perhaps. Rinhard Mallet ad
ded these words; they were so'Fre little pre
parations to Lis wife for the erents of the
lay
a a
-id;
riog-
/110110 W
When the mono* came, and the miser
had been laid in the grave hallowed by no
tears nor tender memories, the will was
opened in the presence of Richaril Mallet and
his a Raja eta of.!the deserted rooms of the
miser's house. Through the btlf-open shut
ters,ol a scant sunbeam streamed n the wig of
the old I
d lawyer reading the will,and make a
track of dancing motes across t e dusky air.
Mrs. Mallet sat on a vrorni-eaten i chest (there
was only one chair in the room,' that occu
pied by the lawyer,) anti Richard, holding
his hat in his hand, stood liy his wife 'a
side.
(wife wife
lead.
i yob
The old lawyer read the! preliminary
clauses of the will, tr which both his bearers
iidened attentively ; the one with cespect for
the big words, the other with patient en
deavor to grasp their meaning.", The emcee
t4.rs appointed were two gentlemen living in
a village in Kent, where the deceased . was
bhre: Though Zebedee Peck (IV drawn up
hii will himself, it was all in roper form.
Ile had commenced life as a firuper child in
workhouse, risen, through the pro
gressive stsges.of hop-picker :mil errand boy,
to he clerk - in a lawyer's office,l and finally,
bill discounter and money-lender in I..nndon.
consequently, Old Peck knew What be was a.
bout when he made . his last will and rests
men% He had prepared a surprise, hoWeeer,
for whoever should read it.
)sed
I,:a
,mane
The
ern-
br
f to
and
that
Last.
the
TLe billa'wyer;u - ddtrily stopped, bT.Pw his
no-e, and glanced down thel parchment.
There app , med to Le solllething unuLual to
:h.: (10cm:tient.
'AI.I my real and personal e: tia`e, whatso
ever, and where , r ever,' lepeatedl tths lawyer
with an unen,y kort of 'hem'—'ligioe and be
queath to—to,.--Je,sie Mallet, (the parents
both turticd pale)therlaughter ofluit, nephew,
hichard Ildlet of Little WinkfeStreet, in
thi+ e:ty, and -
T..e larsver glanced over e‘f4 words fur.
tl.er and then carne to a dead atripr
'This quire itregular---quitei out of the
eou:ae. fleetly I don't know ; f ,think, my
(vend, it would be better your, wife should
s!ep in the other room while I , ncntinue to
read the will.' -
flew
ii—d
Dee
4--
•
sir ;go on;. she can h e ar it, £a1..1 Rich
ard.
l eed
11/.4i
urr.
ett
The•lakryer, with a strange lolk at. them
Loth: nesumed—' 4 ‘nd this is the revenge I
have long p:omised myself. In !leaving my
money ihu., may I be .owing the seed of es
trangement •between Mallet. and his
! May it be a bar betweeM them all
their lives !...• May it-dilide tl4eiliouseholtl
May it make the dat4hcer k.hanued of her
and,the Esther jealous of I his Baugh.
ter!'
(look
ser's
Mrs. Mallet put out her band to t her hus
band with a terrified face. RiChard stood
quite still, but hie brJaF pew black as night.
•Maylny wealth b . the curse `to them it.
hae; been to me, and Uring disecird between
kith and kin It is with the belief that it
eau and will do this, that I leave my money
to Richard Millet's daughter.: 111-gotten
gains never pio-per, be once told me. Let
him remember this—let him take it to heart
now, when these satiag ; gains have become the
legacy-of his ovvn:child.'
•e're
P
arks
ded
The lawyer stopped, for Mrs', Mallet had
burst out weeping; but Richard was standing
as before, though with great drops of sweat
upon his brass, and his wife's hand clasped
tigi.tly,in his.
'hem is w4:rds, Sir, as nobody-hiss a tight
to s•aid be in a low, boarie voice—'them
is words that all rise up in judgment against
him some day. Sooner than hale ane penny
of his money now,- pall my band,
Hannah ; I.kuow what I'm saying—l'd see
msf.wife and child:en lie dead id the'streetr.
'Look here, Sir—look here; that was Uncle
Zeb's work -
The
boys
htld
'
ason
I ben
'from
The mail Lad suddenly tared his arm, and
was pointing to a ling of livid flesh that en
circled it.
.; •
,'When I was a lad, he Lung me up by
that arm, and beat me with a rope; because I
Wouldn't do his ditty work. - liforgave him
that though, ;ears ago, for I got on in the
.world without him, and got married,and was
happier than Le ever Lad been; • But now
:that Le tries to ,let my own children agen me,
as he once tried to set me agen my wife, I
wish the Lord may—' 1
'Oh; Richard, don't, don't!' pis wife-put
her Land upon his mouth, end I stayed the
curse upon his lips. 'Dont% stiy them bad
'words ; don't, Dick, don't. 'Don't say. them
bad words; don't. 'Remember what you tell
the" Loyd always. Oh, my poor Tan ! '
Sheclung to her husband's shoulder, and
Wept there. ; • 1 -
'1700.3 right, milass. I preach, 'hut I
don't pritetioe.
11. i -chard Mallet' drew a dedp• bi:eath,pasred
his band over his wet'brow,and site thorn on
the chest, with the veins alt , swAen - in' his
(sae, and his limbs trembling tritl i fthis efforts
to subdue himself. •
I.tLe
, g • to
heo,
not.
;till,
'ls there anything more to read Sir !
know. it if there bo, if you pleasel
'No: notbing but the wusi climes , for ;•ir-
T
.
lug proper power to the executors—mere mat- ter of detail,' replied the old lawyer,appateat
ly very ill at ease.
I Mien, sir.' said RiChard, slowly •and de
.
I liberately, 'l'd like to say,oece,for all, -in the
presence of von and my wife as wit nessai,thst
I hereby refuse to have, and renounce, for me
and my child-, every farthing of this man's
money.
Richard uttered these words as solemnly as
though :bey bad been a proper legal oath of
remauciation, and then; with .a look of relief,
, got up and kissed his wife. 'Don't cry,
my woman ; 'we'll be going oar way home
again.'
. 'Yes ; better do so, perhaps—better do so,
Mr. Mallet,' said the lawyer: ‘l3ot I must
remind you that—that the property of the
:deceased - is left to your child, and not to
yourself. It is in the hands of trustees. You
cannot, therefore, renounce what is not your
own.. However, we'll talk :natters over to
gether to-morrow, at my o ffi ce.'
I The cloud that enmesoiier Richard Mallet's
face at these words did not disappear again
ths s night. He went home in silence, nor
spoke one word to his wife all the way.
For the first time io his life he drove Jessie
away from him when - she brought her stool
and - knitting to sit at his feet, and for the first
time since :bey were horn the boys went to
bed without their father's kiss. . , 1
CRAFTER 11.-lIOW THE RkWE\GE WORKED
Richard Mallet never closed I,i, eyei that
night. He got up at six next morning, had
his breakfast; and then, as though uotLing
had happened, wenkand.did log a day, swork
before going to the lawyer's office.
His wife stood and watched his manly fig
ure as he strode down the street in the blue
light of early morning, with his tools on his
shoulder; and then, as he turned the corner,
she went back to her fireside, and sat and
cried as though her heart would break, till
the milkman cantearound with the morning's
It was a lonm s day at Lome. Jes , ie wond
ered what made her -mother so sad and air
sent, and why she sat and looked at her so
sirangery at times.
•AiTe ion angry, mother 1' asked . the child
once, as she caught one of these fixed Icx.plcs
upoti her.
Angry, air 1 Don't talk—don't talk .-s-
Perhaps it would havg`teen better.if you had
never b:en horn, my' good girl. The Lord
only kniisys,' And the mother turned away
from her little daughter, with tears in her
eyes, and a foreboding heart. . -
When Richard came home; his wife saw by
the expreirion of hii face that the ma,ter was
decided in some way:
'llaonah,' said he, 143 in„.• down hip tools,
and wiping his forehead with a handkerchief,
be took out of hi; cap ; 'it's as ha said. Our
child got his foitune and lye can't take it
from her. Ile tells me Jessie is worth twenty
thousand pounds.'
'Twenty thousind hu,band
What r Twenty thou—
The poor woman - laughed and erred in the
same breath. Twenty thousand pounds! It
was impossible not. to rejoice. Uncle Zeb's
maledictions were forgotten for a inoineel, in
the dazzling vi-ions these words raised before
the mother
oall Jttb.lll.l Lem,' Bald Itiehald, sitting
auwn.
And„.ressie crone to her father's chair and
looked up wistfully into his face. If was
s°lllEll4lg new to 'feel. afraid. of father ; but
Jes , le did feel so, as bhe beheld the, way in
which he looked at her.
- toy g•ri, I want to talk to you,' be
gan It:clgard. 'Now listen to what I am gain'
to say; you're a cute little lass, and can un
derstand me, I know. Co;1.1 Z bed. ei 'W II
bee been opened, and w e find he's left al:
motley to you. You'll be a very doh woman
one day, Jessie, and you'll have a big house
of-your own.'
7 1'he pale face of the child flushed, and her
eyes sparkled.
'You're very glad, Jess, ain't you ?'
'Yes, father, lam glad. Shall we . baye a
'Lome of our own , then, and a garden.
'Yes, you v. ill. And you'll wear fine
clothes, and live with grand folks, who are - a
deal cleverer than father and mother.'
'But. I shan't leare you,' sad the -ohild,e ith
a.quick grasp at her father's hand.
'Norfor always, perhaps; but you must
go to school ana learn of somebody who can
teach you better than father can.'
Richard—Valles facetwitcheil I. .9 bethought
of the old spelling-book over a hich he and
his child had spent so many happy evenings.
—They were at an end now. But, looking
at his wife, he went on :
wo muan't keep her hke ourselves,
Hannah. She must have good - schooling,
you know. She must be different from us.'
Jessie stared at her parents with her big
brown eyes, and ber heart beat fast. 'She
was a clear-beaded, reasoning little creature.
The life which she had been compelled to
lead in consequence of her infirmity—an in
firmity more the result of a delicate frame
-than actual direase—had "quickened .her in
tellect and rendered her Irmo and thoughtful
beyond her years. So she shed no teary,
though her beast was full, but took her chair
out of ber father'sright, and plied her needle
fast in silence.
That night Richard Mallet anti hie wife sat
by their fire-side till lung after midnight,
discussing the fortunes of their child. s At
one‘mounut the poor mother thanked Provi
denee fur Jessie's good luck, and at another
she aliuddero at the thought of the curse at
tached to the miser's wealth. .
'Olt, Richard, if Lis word should come true.
If our child should grow to be ashamed of
you antique!
'Rush, Hannah r Richard checked his wife
angrily. 'Ws only like a baby to talk iu , that
way. How can a•dead man's words do any
harm I,
Though Richard assumed indifference to
his uncle's malediction, it ,troubled Lim in
reality. The first thing on waking,,the old
miserie terrible words pcourewl to him. AU
day long, as be plied hammer-stud chisel in
the atone:yard, fragments of the curse sound
ed in his ears. As he sat at dinner, under
the shed, befound himself mechanically trac
ing in the dust, with Oiti tlnd. of a 'broken
tool, the
-words
•Jiay it place a bar tetsreen them all their
lives!' .. • . - .
• Richard Mallet was wan of fewolution
and fair words. -When he had decided oo
tining a.thing,. he did it at once.. So having
tows to the cc;nelosion that his total be
brought up as Wilted .her alie!ed circuit:l-I. Richard was the first to- regain right feel
stances, be lost, no time , in lending his aid i.ing on this subject.
' 'Hannah,' said he one day, 'we've &mow
to °airy out tlje nectssary changes.
Ere six months Jessie Mallet was the in- duty, and it's no use talking. Jessle must be
mate of s handsome home in a boarding- ! brought up as she should be,an4 you and me
school in Kent, near 'one of the trustees; and I ought to be the last to stand in her way. I
the stone-mason, and his wife had returned to I promised 'em we be no hindrance to her,nnd
the life they were leading, before the death %main% a-going to break our word.'
of Zebedee Peck. •,- ' I When Richiird spoke this be looked more
It was nut the old life, though. Richard cheerful, outwardly, than he had done for
Was as steady andlndustrious,,as ever,as good ' many a day.
a- workman, as kind to his Wife, and as fond Whate4er fears and anxieties he - might
of his two boys ; but there was a change in I have, they were . henceforth 4:unlined, to his
him. It was net that the new position in ewtt tads'.
WhiCh he now stop toward' his master, his
fellow-workmen, orithe world, perplexed him. ' oupTER
11
• • 1...-11CoW ME\
LED. REVENUE Eer.a '
Ile was not the esxvi to disquiet himself ens; •
that score. lie held up big head, as before, I True to hie promise, }flatten' Mallet never
i
worked hard, took a. joke good-humoredly, I nterfered, hy word or deed, with the ar
krungement his child's guardians had made for
brought home his earnings every Saturday,
and never troubled himself about what. the her education. - .
neighbors thought:tor said about his affairs. I A few years wait IsY, and the laboring
It was at bin
. own hearth that this chalic e , stone mason had risen to be the first 'oil:-
was to be seen; at his own hearth,
where : , man in bis master's employ. 'With bettered
'
when he tacght the boys their Itsttei•Sat night, • means find good wages, itiChard Mallet was
be missed the geritle little voice in his ear , ' able ro quit. the neighborhood of Peek's Court
'
and a soft little hand in his ;• where his ere and rent a small house in the suburbs. Mrs.
; Mallet still washed and ironed, and cooked
often rested on a chair that stood vacant in
the corner, With re little crutch by its side. her husband's dinner, but her labors were aid-
At such time lie would grow hard and ! gal by a little servant, and the boys were sett
stern. There war to a good school. not the influence of them :
• things that clings to tokens that remind us ! People said! Richerd Mallet was not•the
of the dead; they only recalled a separation • man he used - to be. lle had grown churlish
with his friends, haughty with -his fellows,lost
need
founded•on-injusfee rind wrong!, Uncle Zeb I
b e had at- his chi -pints and
"have prophesied no further ; !resilient smile; and only
ready obtained n 'cruel revenge. The very : seemed intent upon making his way up in
fear of his nurse ever being accomplished l the world: 13 ,.. ut his wife and children could
was eqough to ith-hitter the rest of his nepte I rim " a° H fautt ' A " him• kn ew h er h e art o f
ew'slife. , hearts Hannah perhaps knew that her bus
'Hannah,' said Richard to his wife one band was not the same • but she would have
Friday morning, 'I shan't be home to-night, / died sooner than breathed an accusation a
nor mayhap for these three days. I'm ffuin, , : gait:lA him. • •
to see her.' " • And-where was Jessie all this time l'
lie kismd Lis wife, put. on his best list, 1 In these few years Jesse - Mallet,tbe whilom
placed a stout stick and small bundle on his , crippled child, has grown into a straight,well
shoulder_ and went away. Jessie had boil ; formed child, whose presence would disgrace
.gone,nlne monthl. i no dela lug room. Of a slight Ggere and de-
On Tuesday eight his- *ice. stool at her' l'os'e features, she still recalls the pale-faced
•,,, child who used to bobble about her father's
door looking ou;4! anxiously- for. Iris return.
It was nine o'tilesek, but warm and fine, and ! house upon a crutch; but there is a blcom
the month ofJune , upon her check, and health and energy in
. •
her movements now-a-days. Under skillful
Ere ‘ long,in the dusky twillight she espied
!: treat ment,and the healthy influences tfiat have!
a toil-worn man corning slowly up the street.
surrounded her of A iate„ her infirmity taigra
neightesting limp shone on the mares g
-it. is an important day at the Canterbury
dually d i ere as be approaccied. Hannah slartt-dfi i
as
she caught sight - of her husband's face. It I
was so worn and jailed that she hardly knew !school, when next we see. her. It is. Jessie's
him. i seventeenth birth-day, and ber' school-days
. .....
`Give me a ciplo drink, Hannah,' said I are at an end.
,She has been writing. a letter
to her parents—those letters are ' the only
Richard, when he had entered the Loeser and
sat down. . -
I links between the old life and the new one ;
The dust upoif - his dress showed that be ! Richard has them all, from the first childish
had made the journey on foot.' literals!' to the last well-penned epistle, safely
It's a long 401 to Canterbury, you see,
locked up in an old desk—and Jessie. sits
'
and I dont thinkl foot it as I used to do.'—
I thinking of her father and mother with tears
lin her eyes. Why are they not here to day 1
He wilt anxionShis wife should understand
that the cause i s t his fatigue was p h ys i ca l . I At-deed the room are spread all the little
He took a long draught itt the tong of , I, gifts her comPinitns bad given her—mere
beer,.prit, it down, and then,
with his
elbow 1 trifles fur the most part, but pleasant tokens
I
on An tablesaq.SYS head resting on his baud, of the good, ail! she had awakened there,und
said :-. 1 the 'good name she 'leaves behind. 'Every
.l. can't touch my supper vet awhile. I'm body here remembers me, and i • s
kind,'thinks
dog Cred. 11l tell you all about my journey I 'Jessie. '
-It is only my own family who fur
now, and then we done with it.' i get me. .
Well, Jessie has plenty of new friends now,
He took of his hat, loosened his neeker
without raising his
-eyes to 1 and, fur aught we know, may have learned
:
chief, and then,
his wife's face, began : ' to do eiae..ut her parents' love since we met
her. There are ninny affection* we count
"Hannah, I have seen our child. I have
strong that six years' alisence would try ;
been down to Canterbury and seen the place
where she lives, :fad the company she keeps. and lyt:er-writing, as most of us know, is but
But though I've scan her, she ain't seen' me. a poor bond, After all. ,
I hadn't the tree to . show myser aster all. so PerhapsJessisr's love is of a less nrcient
When I gut down yonder on-Sued:iv after- nature
.. .than it used to he.,
noon, and see t:e grand old, Iroise she's !isle' She has i o much time however, fut. rAlec
in, nih by the cathedral, and the young tion on- this or any other tcurc. There is is
ladies welkin' in the groden,l said to m p. e l , ; sound of wheels on the gravel-path, and a
It neve-,l do to show yourself there,nay m „ ~, ; carriage rolls up to the door. It is Mr. Hale,
'
and so I made up my mint I'd come back as one of Jessie s guardians, who is come, to take I
I went, without even a word Or a kiss, and bee her away from school, .end esdcrt hey to his
[own- huuse at nate „rields; where an archery
satisfied if I could only clap ,my -eye on her
g
for a minute. So I wate meetin is to celebrate the day.
hed about the house
till they all came out, two and two, to g o t o ',
Jessie bids farewell ;o her companions of
the cathedral close by, and then I saw my ,Isix yearS, and drisitig away in Mr. Hide's
child, hand in hand a iil a lady insilk,
w h o : carriage, looks up at the school-room win l i
-
dews with dimmed eye:, and sees the old
Walked at the bead o' the line. She seemed
kind o' gentle with our little girl, and helped j fathedral, ail blurred by her tears , fric the
her on a bit, for she couldn't quite keep up' last tithe-
is ith the others; and Jess !poked up at her - 'Here we are,' cried the guardian,, as the
As though she liked her, and wasn't afraid. !.carriage turned into Lis
you see.'his gates at Hale Fields;
m 'here we are, all ready,
._ .
I kept my eyts on her, and followed after 'e
up to the Church-do r, and when they 1 Jessie 'beheld the tents and targets on the
lawn, the servants hurrying to surd fro, and
went in, I seemed to be drawn on like, and
the gardeners giving the last touches to.their
went in, top, sa though I couldn't do - other.
, , ' '
lee „d l ot , decorations. a brave place is that cathedral, _
to see in 'my line ; but I could only look tit ! 'Don't fancy, Misi Jessie, this is all got up
one place all the time, where she wa.s.sitting 'on your account. Other people can have
among the ladies, looking inn at quiet and na birthdays besides you. Dick is nineteen to
good as I've seen her look a score o times i day,artd he means to share in the honors,too.
a sittio' iu yon chair.' her paused a moment Here Ire comes. He'll take you in to speak
and then went on, ‘tou,should have seen her to Mrs. Hale and the girls.'
eyes, Hannah, when the organ - wa.s plaiyiug.! Mrs. Richard, Hale raised his wide-awake
She was happy then, I warrant. I minded
and shook hands with - Jessie. Mired taught
to sit on a hack bench where she couldn't her to tide ono holiday. _and play chess an
see me, and.there I watched her, while they other, so they were old friends.
.: . • _ . . • __
! Oh dear
played and sung, till, all at once, 1 felt i was
going to choke. and,then, God nre !
1 rose and walked, cut of the church ni h
a curse upon my lips. I would' have szt off
home • then and there, but somehow
Icotildn't - tear myself away. I saw them all
come out of church again, and go back to
the big house, and I loitered, about the iron
gates, hoping I'd sse her again in the garden
or at the windows, - but I didn't. A servant
came out aforo long, looking very smart and
tidy; and thinks Ll'lljust ask him how Jessie
is, and when I went up to him, he stared at
me in an uppish sort of way, and so I only
asked him what Relock it was. I'd huh a mind
to ring the bell, nud go in,after all; but every
time I looked. at my bundle my heart failed
me ; so 1 went, without ever hearing the
sound of my Imbues voice. Tethars I was a
fool, anti ought to have gone in without fear
or ahem we an honest man should; but the
Lord knows I'd rather have come back as I
have, than seen heti:shamed o' arr, or iriught a
blush to her cheek. I couldn't ha' borne
that. Hanoah !"
Richard Mallet's voice . sank an he uttered
these ivordiiand his great band tremtried , as
be bent his head over the table. The
spirit of the maq s e eped broiled aid bra"
down.' . -
For Many days Richard Mallet repeated of
the sacrifice he .tiacl. made; ked.upinsided
himself for ever baying allowed his uhitd to
be removed from him. •
`Why did they ever permit this unnatural
separation to take place I' the preuts asked
themselves, . •
l essia world never be. diet* any more
notv: said the poor. mother. 'They had het_
ter forget their owe bairn.. , Bj! the time she
had .finieled bar schooling: she'd be no- coat
pa ay fur Fuch ac. them.'
Mrs. Hale was a stately women,who kit;Md
Jes-ia on her check, and bade her welcome•
slob an air of polite patronage. Pride of
birth was Mrs. Hale's failing. • §la had the
misfortune 'to • be the grand-daughter of a
baronet, and had a weakness for goOd blood ;
hence she never took so - kindly to Jessie ht;
the rest of her family. Her husband, with a
delibacy of fee4ng•peculiar to bim,had note!'
41Vtligid to any one the real factsor Jemit's
parentage,but .Mrs.lfale hed formed a shrewd
guess on the subject. ,
To-day there was even. a more than usual
amount of dignity in the good lady's demea
nor; her head was carried more erect,and her
dress rustled more imposingly as she swept
by. A young lord was to be het-guest to-•
day, and, to meet him, some of the first frimi
lit.s' in the neighborhood 'and the elite of
Canterbury bad been invited to Hale Fields;
consequently Mrs. Hale's • reception of Jessie
Mallet was quite a solemn and impretsive
sight.
Jessie almost trembled when- she heard of
the grand doings that were to take p)ace,end
the grand ,people who were expected. Bat
before her friends had half finished their con
ference,•the confab was broken up by Mr.
Dick Hale rushing down to the arbor where
they sat, and_supinoning his sisters to their
prelienc‘e.
_
•Matte baste, Otis: Thore c er.mcither
be
comiug rigid with horror. His lordAbip
striver', and nobody
,to receive him.: -Doi
pray, get to her aid, of shell liispeechtess in
fro minutes. : '
The two girls flew away to the. Louse, ant
left . Jefeier to their ,brothir. He stood. had
wainhed them with a laughing face. , , , .
4 Well, Miss, 'Mallet, this doing us hon or,
I isn't it ? You and I are lucky' folks to hare
F tie il a birthday' keeping as this.'
mnue or rite UNION"
'I am Nay in having such friends and
sucb . o home to-day. I little thought, though,
when Mr. Bale brought me over,that Ishould
find such am assembly,or perbtips I wouldn't
hare come. - • • • .
'Well, that's very polite. I thick I had
better tell my father tbat•you'd like to have
the hones out again, and'go back to Canter
;
bury. Ile's sure to oblige you.' Mr. Di.:lr.
`turned very red.
'No.; don't talk nonsense. I didn't mean,
Bit:bard,. to—to—' less% stammered and
stooped again...
I 'l'v insult your guardian, nh r sail Dick,
recovering his good hirmor when 14 saw
Jessie loosed di-ttested. 'You - had better not
lermy mother hear yin insinuate that you
don't care to meet her you,
JeWie. By
the-way, I wish the Cheesemans were all at
Jericho, I'm sue. I never wattpul them to
be invited here at all.' Richard looked really,
I half annoyed. .. .
"Why. not 1' asked Jessie. .
'Oh•hecause nobody knows who, they are,
or what they are. It's said he
. was a tallow.
chandler, and had a large fortune, left,Aim.
They have just that cut: ,:lte has' taken a
house near us. I don't know them,yon now
By the way, you don't, I Elope'
'No, I don't know them.. = . , •
'Oh, that's right.. - That sort, of origin aI -
ways makes one auspicious.'
.oeietly as Jessie had diselaifittedaertualot•
'truce with the Cheesemans, there was such a
1 sudden tumult in her heart, and such a sing
le; in her ears, Bustler the next five minutes
she heard not a word her companion saki.
'There goes my father!' suddenly cried
Richard., 'ITa is looking for you, I know.
Let's follow him, you hairs to be introduced
' to such a lot of people. : Come nlong..
They hastened away t4lbe lawn. •
Every thiug wore a gala air there. The vis
itors wcre anivinglast, a splendid collatbu
was lai.l out in one of the tents, and a Land of
music was plating under the mulberry-trees.
The forthcoming archery fete at Hale Fields
had been the talk of the neighborhood for
days past.._
, .
And [row the festivities commenced. Jess:
sie was no archer, but she stood by and
watched the sports. well 'pleased when her
old friend MltTv Hale, -carried off the first
prize of the days. Then followed the, lunch
eon in the tent, and Mr. lisle's funny speed'
when he presented that oakleaf crown to his
daughter. . .
After that came a dance on the lawn, when
Jessie Wai his lordship's 'partner, and when
the baud from Canterbury, ,under the inficr
entre of dr. Hale's home-brewed, played. such
exhilarating rittathilles that it was ennugh to
set the very cows iu the', neighboring fields
doing L'ete and La Peek. , •
I3ii he; however, the ,music acundel. to
the merry-makers, there was . one ear, not far
off, to whom it brJught eo mirth.
In the lane leading to Hale Fields, a solita
ry man was standing ; with astern, Co•sticast
face. It was Richard Mallet, who fur, the.
last bonr bad paced bnekvrard -and forwent
in the lane.. • Six years bad passed since. be
had seen his daughter. During nll this time
he had kept to bis'resolution of never inteile
ring with her education, and had never pre
sented.hireself.before her eyes. He had ,pur
poses in from" which - he never we: 14.
•
Fie had come down tocantenhary by coach
over night, and finding as be expected,. that
his daughter bad that Jar quitted school, and
,gone to Hale Fields ai:h her guardian, he
had fullowad them in order-to carry out the
purpose he had so lung meditated.
It was only within the last hour that' his
heart had LIM him. • • • „
Though Richard Mallet looked older and
sterner he ; much the same man at heart.
Time, howeti•er, had wrought som s e,change in
him. Though btill in the prirrie of, 11ft% his
hair was tinged with gray; and hislace bad a
harder look than of old. Ile wore a better
coat now, had a black silk uinkerebief fasten
ed loosly round his throat.-
The horns and Luglei of the CanterbOry
band swelled over the garden's, and the wind
carried the bum and laughter of the gueets to
his ears. . , • ,
For the twentieth time he stopped Moro
the gates, and for the twentieth•time ho turn
ed away ,
At last, with an angry exclamation it Lis
own irreolution, he opened the gates, and
entered the grounds,
" "Mr. Hale won't be ablit to see you to-day,
my man—he's engaged, and cant attend to
inlisittesk." palled- out the lodge keeper as he
went through the gates.
. "My business ain't wits Mr. Hale," said
Richard;
looking at the man, whose red face
showed he tad taken good care of himself in
the general festivity.
"Oh, it's the back door you want, is it?
Tahe thelltst path, then, to the right." ,
The man spoke with an insolent air.
But . , Richard kept the broad walk, and
went on, as before. Suddenly he came to a
stop. lie had heard his own name prolloliti
cgd bv, some one behind the . laurel-hedge at
his shle.
. "Mallet! Ali? that's her name is it? Well,
Oho is gOod looking. But. they say, poor
thing,. but family is pet :recognizable. Is it
truer
. "Quito true. -Mrs. 11. has hinted as much"
herself. They'd° say her father is a common
mason, and carries a bird on his shoulder to
rhilday. But however that may_ be, they
are vulgar people that's certain,
• Richard's lipStieOame
.White as death.
"What a mercy the . .ehti'd was removed
from her friends in timer continued the first
Speaker. -,-"Reallyi,no one would now suppose
her to be of low Origin. With- her Money,
you kilo*, She may expect to mike a good
match one day, and so get free of -her former
ties. ...What.a good thing Elia fell , into , the
hands s:of. the Ilales--quite: providential, Ab,
-hericomes our host?' • •
• The ladies moved awry;. and Richard, with
his teeth sat his foot crushing the graver under
his.heel; strOtle..on , ,to the house.. ..
One-or two persons turned. to look
as be.approached, but the. ir.sjority , of the
guests - were on. the Side-learn, where.the dan
cer's were usenibled and thii,inarquee erente)l;
he' esapetl observation.
"Is Isny dapOhteriarfs inquired of the ser
vant 14 th:4
_ „
Hohad walked straight ap to.the principal
entrance. The man started In sorpr se,; and
theri;with a *hideglance at the-waiter, near,
No, she ain't'ner Won't; 'yet
toirtorrow".; businer particktilir
pkeerren, l t_lopc and
. ke inked .at
!arnica. •
•
VOLUME XVI,I NUMBER 7.
"You'll Anise to keep s - eevil, tonggue in
your head, and answer toy question. ,Is Miss
%Iles in? Yes, 'she's atsont so/lowlier; bat
you can't see her ; 'that is, you—yeu--"The
teat statnered, changed his tpbe, aad stopped
Sosnething warned bum in nine,--'You'll
have the gsxminesi to show me cote ` ; s room
where I can speak to her, and then ;lend and
seek her.'
Without another word the man lid the
way lOW's- the hall, and ushered Richard into
the library. , .
It was a hendsotne room era and. (iaql.
with a large bow-wlndow opining into the ger
dem *Mine awningyontaide. , 'Richard-6)okt
ate the say.compny, and the band and tent,
on.lhe ''He caught eight of.lhia — owir
I figure in the mirror opposite, but the contrast
there did not tr`onble A - arrange
control had come overhim; there was ousiren
'resolution written on'his fate. .; •,.. ,
He was standing. gazing at the sterriltee.hf
Iphigenia,in bronze,' on the Orantielir*wyl
was attiring to find oat its meartleg, when be
beard foidatepsafiproaching. He turnicliand
a young lady and gegaleman entered the too*
through the trindoic• • • -
.it eat Jeasi3 and ,Mr. Dick Hale.
For one moment they both itattecioAt' the
,tmexpected visitor in- surprise . ; the Otitis:isle
gars Lair Sty sad ipranglorward:
"'rather!" - --
Richa r d Millet% arms were folded on his
thank, his face cold and unmoved; bit' it
that one word hufarms were opened, &Or lie
strained her to his- heart: . • •
Mr. Dick Hide disaPpeared. - -
"Thou ain't forgotten my face, then I" - uid
Richard, looking • down at Ida daughter.
•'That's well. I didn't know but vba might:7
Though he spoke coldly, bis lip trembled
to he could scarcely articulate.
'l'hotr art changed since we met,. girl. In
stead of erry poor lame lass, I find thee is lady
gro#n. • '
_ .
He annulled her over at aril:N.-length. -
'1 want to know now, whether you are *till
my ownchibi or.not; I wantto know whethey
they have changed your heart et well Rayon,.
dress. Stay ; don't speak vet'; -yen may
repent It. I,hatv'e.a que• *i on to *4 you . 1
want utknuw whether you will lelre there
people and come home to your mother - and
me—hat's the proof I want as to whabed. you
are stilLmy own child.' -
Jes*io eye% fell. There was something Ito
cold and:stern In her Nth eei voice,' it mad&
her heart *brink. ' . ,
'Tlriuk before yoti speak ; there's risiibb de
pends upon it. Ate Tim ready tie lerOre these
friends, atid cast your lot with ine r Are
you prepared to live with ihose who are not
clover lind,.poltsbed, but rough, unedultated
people. There is a deal to lose, but Lihink
there is something to gain. WeLCSI3 give
love, v iessie, such as you may I:Myer -find
shut •=—' T.rti suddenly stopped, 'Answeinte,
my lass, which it is-to be —96 . or stay t‘
'Hi go, rather::
~He loved her still; his last scolds decided
, • - -
'You'll go.? • And 'will you go contented
ly ? Vtqll you go, feeling
. low ain't ashamed
u them you'll have to live with 9'.
•Father, why-do you put those cruel cir
dons to me I have prayed to Gr , :id to bring
cs together every night:of my. life. &heated I
oh. you forget I UM ybur •
je ,,. ..;11 hid her tr:e in her'- bands, and
wept. . •
•You ;ay you ain't ashamed of • me,' said
Richard; with a strange expression-gathering
over his fade. 'Then I - II put your-, words to
the test. Look at this blind ;- its rough and
hard-with labor; my bouts are thick and
ugly; the linen-on my back is cchtrael. my
coat is badly out; I don't look like a gentle
man--anybody may see that. Now, if you'
ain't ashamed of mecommon-looking *Bl be,
take me out through that window on to the
laWn among them people, and tell them I'm
your filcher. Dire you rfo .it I Dare you
own me before 'em all I. Speak• oat'
Jessie turned deadly pale, =and a,sPaern
!Allied over her face.. • What was it her lath
eraskeci i It was. too much—too much. • A,
hithdred things forbade it: Mrs. Hale's pride,
the opinion of her friends, and worse than
1411--Dick's words that very day. She' stood
dumb and terrified.' ' • •
Her fethereaw her resolutibu,sgd hie btaith
cArric quick.
'You're had.ao time to thiolo Dare you
du it ,
There wes_s moment's silenee, end the
struggle was 0 an end. Shp hat counted
tho quit, and bid triumphed. 'She 'ATI ha
hind over her btow, and said
'Yes, failter, I dare. • Comet'
-Site bad reached the window wheuherstep,
faltered. Before was a gavand-balliont as
sembly, She stood spell bound at the sight,
and a shiver passed ovhr her. ..
'You can't, then--you caCt
whispered Richard hoarsely. . Without an
other word he stepped back, and turned, and
lett her alum.
But ere h'e bad gono fivo paces from •her,
Jessie-wai at his side; 'father, forgive rne, 1
have no fear:
Shu put out her band, looked tip into his
face radiant in her love,and led .=bin straight
to the window. The next moment they stoat
iu thu garden, before all the people: -
Every eye wits.fixed on the young girl as
elle crossed the lawn with her oompatiion,and
winced up to the tent where Mr. 'a ad Mits.; Bale
and a pirty of their - friends iCaiiterbury
grandees, and quite old folks,, wto did .not
dance) wore sitting, .
'What has Miss Mallet got with her
'What a singular protietiliug l• 'ls bberei,._
Coning one of the gardeners tosthe teat Visa
ed the young people at the lewo.
‘•
liegerdleits.of all•ooMinents, neveri
stopped till she had - reached die tent wheru
the hostess bit.-
Then and-there. ir..afew simple woAli 546
made known her fatherto Mrs. nide,. • -
A- Luis of .ustooistiniout moo lip ariktud.
Mrs. Ltaielooke.l bewildareJ and eon(uled ;
but, ere Jessie bad done speaking, Mr. Hale
was at her ado. - • • -
'This is your father, Jessie; -isti► t Thee
I am., very , glad - r„0 wane` liiii - ~aequaiuta
nco!
' And Mr. flu, bad out his Wiwi to Rioh
*
.
lark - 4561y sein you once before,Mr.
ho continued - et oras-u r rheu your uncle
died);•Vut I taco 'not forgottelyour behavior
Mr. litile'e prompt MI? emor hod sparedasy
thiug scenicand relieved -every, one-at
"Sii, I thank •(.1'1: thOes-