fseticaL VIN I 6 YMABB OLD? Bt 'ROSA V. JONISOB In-overy nook or caw sly, t v Me roguish eye is sure to peep, And grandma's pocket he will try - To Whom, be it e'er so deep. ' Heinellellberlillasms of my dress, And then says " Look !" My pretty boy! When I mlghtoecold, I pause to bless Thy upturned face so hall of joy. His father's hat he loves to wear, And, hiding half his tiny head, A glow of beauty, rich and rare, Upon that old black hat is shed. For 'nesth its brim so dark and deep, His dimpled foe, all bright with bloom, peeps out, as rosy vapors pee? Sometimes from clouds of wintry gloom. Hein ally puJlbis Orhther's hair, coulinal their toys, And run to me, But when they gather round In prayer, He, too, will bend his jittle knee; And, though he monies eau ',Peak a word, There's werwhip In his speaking eye, And Roast's prayer I know is heard When he Woks up to Ood's blue sky. - - - • that gsteritt . art. THE SIN OF A FATHER. AN IN /MUM BTORY. • ---.464210 t r Doctor Brown was poor, and had to make his way in the world. He had gone to study his profession in Edinburgh, and his enereability, and good conduct, had en titled him to some notice on the part of the professors. Once introduced to the ladies of their families, his prepossessing appearance and pleasing manners made him an universal favorite, and perhaps no other student received so many invitations to dances, evening parties, or was so erten singled out to till up an odd vacancy at the dinner table. No one knew particularly who he was, or where he sprang front; but then he had no relations, as he had onee or twice observed ; so he was evidently not hampered with low-born or low-bast con nections. lie had been in mourning for his mother when he first came w college. All this mut+ was weaned to the recol lection of Professor Frazer by lois Mee.. Margaret., as she stood before hint one morning in his study, telling him, in a low but resolute voice, that the night before Doctor .Tames Brown had &rem/ her mar riage, tioat she had accepted him, awl that he was intending to call on Professor Fra zer (her uncle and natural gnarrlianj that %cry morning, to obtain his consent In their engagement. Professor Frazer was perfectly aware, from Margaret's manner, that his cement was regarded by her tts mere form, for that her mind war made tip; and he had more than once had 0cca....i0 31 to find out bow inflexible she could he.—L Yet he, too, was of the same blood, and held to his own oponions in the same ob durate manner. The consequence of which frequently was, that uncle and niece had argued themselves into mutual bitterness of feeling, without altering each other's ojiinioons one jot. But Professor Frazer could not restrain himself on this occasion of all others. "Then, Margaret, you will just quietly ..tile down to be a beggar, for that lad Itrown has little or no money to think of marrying upon; you tliat might Is' my 1.a,1y Kennedy, if you would." "I could not, uncle." "Nortsense, child. Sir Alexander is a personable and agreeable man—middle aged, if you will—well, a wilful woman must have - *ant that 'fe3dliS my house to cajole you into fancying - him, I would have seen him far enough belbre 1 had ever let your aunt invite hun to din ner. Ay, you may mutter ; but I say, no gentleman would ever have come into my house, to seduce my niece's affection, with out first informing me of his intentions and asking my leave." "Doctor Brown is a gentleman, Uncle Frazer, whatever you may think of him." "So `you think--k you think. But who cares for the opinion of a love-sick girl?— Ile is a handsome, plausible young fellow, of good address. And I don't mean to deny his ability. But there is something about him I never did like, and now it's accounted for. And Sir Alexander— Well, well ! your aunt will be 'disappointed in ;sou, Margaret. But you were always a head-stiong girl. Ilas this .latnie Brown ever told you who or what his parents were, or where he comes from? I don't :t.sk about his forbears, for he does not look like t a lad who has ever had ancestry and yomfa Frazer of Lovat ! for shame Margaret! Who is this Jamie Brown?" -He is James Brown, Doctor of Medi ne of the University of Ellmburgh : a good lever young man, whom 1 )(we with my a hole heart," replied Margaret, redden ing. "!loot' is that the way for a maiden to speak ? Where does he come from? Who are his kinsfolk? Unless he can give a pretty good account of his family and pro spects, I shall just bid him begone, Marga ret ; and that I tell you fairly." "Uncle," her eyes were tilling with hot indignant tear, "I ton of age; you know be is good and clever; else why have you had him so often to your house? 1 marry him, and not his kinsfolk. Ile is an or phan. I doubt if he has any relations that he keeps up with. Ile habil° brothers nor si-ter.i. I don't cure where he COlllt. from." .. What was his father?" asked Professor Frazer, coldly. ••I don't know. Why shoulal I go pry ing into every particular of his family, anal asking who his father was. and what was the maiden name of his mother, and when his grandmother was married?" "Yet I think 1 have heard Miss Marg,a oit Frazer speak up pretty strongly in fa \ or of along line of unspotted ancestry." "I had forgotten our own: I suppose, I spoke so. Simon Lord Lovat is a aTealitable great uncle to the Fra/A.rs. Ifall the piles be true, he ought to have been LaigoMi Ilk a felon, instead of 1.-111%41A ilk, a 11/yjj gentleman ." if you're determined to foul your nest, I novo done. 'Met .lames Brown an I will make him my bow, and thank bun for condescending to marry a Frazer." ••I 7ni said Martniret, now fairly cry ing, "don't let us ,a rt in anger. We love h other in our Jearts. You have been good to me. and so Inv my aunt. But I have given my word to 1/octor Brown, and I must k ee p it. I should love him if he were the son of a ploughman. We don't xi...et to be rich : but he has a few hun dr,iii. to .tart with. and I have my own hundred :I year—" "Well. %111. child. don't cry. You have -et tied it all for yourself. it .'ens: so I wash i% hawk °lit. 1 stink.• of all responsibil- it% You will tell your:Lunt what arrange ment. you make with Doctor Brown about nu marriage. and 1 will do what you wish in the matter. Rut don't send the young [min in to the to ask my consent. I neither 1:lye it nor withhold it. It would have been ditlerent if it had been Sir Alexander." ••t tl,, Uncle Frazer ! don't veak so. See l'toet.tr Brown, at any rate—for my sake -14 ll him you consent: Let me belong to that much. It seems so desolate at a time to have to dispose of myself, as tf itobtsly owned or eared for me." The door was thrown °pan. and Doctor Jame, Brown was announced. 11(segurat It:wtted away ; and c before he was aware the Professor had given a sort of consent, %%allow asking a question of the happy Noung man, who hurried itway to seek his letrothed : leaving her uncle muttering to itatete/f. Doctor and Mrs. Frazer were so stivigly opposed to Margaret's engage• r' COM B. F. SLOAN, VOLUME 29. - , ment, in reality. that they e e i i . not help it by manner aid l' .pljoation • l et= they had thrgnroetcelesalmatet: But Margare t felt more keenly:tam her lover; thud kenestanot weloomeisa the house. Her, pleasure in oaring _him was deittreyed by her sense of the cold welcome that he received; and also willingly • yieldea. to his desire of a short einperment ; which was contrary to their eternalan of 2 waiting, until he should be settled inrnsetice in London. and should see his ray. Clear to such an lucerne as shciuld render their mar riage a prudent step. Doct or ,npr Mrs. Fraser neither 4:ideated , nor p Oved.— Margaret would - rather have had the moat vehement opposition 'than this Coldness.— But• it make her turn with redouhled af fection to her warm-hearted andisymps tiding lover. Not that she bad ever dis cussed her uncle and aunt's behavior with him. As long es he was apparently una waro of it, she would not awaken him to a sense-of it. :Besides, they had stood to her so long in the relation of parents, Leaf she felt. she had no right to bring in a Stranger to sit in judgment upon them. So it was with rather a heavy haat that she arranged their futkeenseneee with Doe litleanhallee amble en:profit by her aunt's experience and wisdom. But ldargeret herself was a prudent akdisensiblei girl.— Although accustomed to a degree Of com fort in her uncle's 'mese : that almost amounted to luxury, she Could • regolutely dispense with it when occasion mqtrired.— When Doctor Brown started for London, to seek and prepare 'their new home, she enjoined him not to make but tiny the most necessary preparations for hek recep tion. She would herself superinteml all that was wanting when she came. :He had some old furniture, stored u in a warehouse, which had been hismother 's. He proposed selling it, and buying new in its place.— Margaret persuaded him not to do this: but to make it go as far as it mold: The household of the newly-married couple was to consist of a Scotch woman, long con nected with, the Frazer family, Id was to be the sole female servant ; and a a man whom I kwtor Brown picked up in I olden, ii , soon after he hid fixed on a house, named Crawford, who had lived for many years with a gentleman now gone abroad. but who gave him the most excellent char:trier. in reply to Doctor Brown's i rtqu irks. This gentleman had employed Crawford in a number of ways ; an that in fact he was a 'kind of jack-of-all-trades; and I lksaor *Brown, in every letter, had some new ac complishment of his seryttneer JO relate. which he did with the morn &Iciest; .tutu zest, because Margaret hold slightly ques tioned the wiMem of starting in lite with a man-servant, hut had yielded to: Doctor ' !Brown's arguments of the necessity of keep ing up a respectable appeerance, making a decent show, ix., to any one who might he inclined to consult him, but be daunted by the appearance of old christie out of the. kitchen, and unwilling to leave any mes sage to one who spoke such unintelligible English. Crawford was so good amrpen ter that be could put up shelves, ftsl4 faulty hinges, mend looks, and even went the length of constructing a box out of some old boards' that had once formed a packing case. Crawford oneday,whcn his master was too busy to go out for his din ner. improvised an omelette as good many Doctor Beam had over tasted in P. is, when he.,wee stu , .- . _ there. fn .. , . _ .. m ,is way, and Margaret was quite con vinced that Doctor Brown was right in his decision that they must have a man-ser want ; even before she was respectfelly greete\by Crawford as he opened the door to the newly-married couple, when the) came to their new home after their short wedding tour. Doctor Brown was ratherafraid lest Mar garet should think the house bare and cheerless in its half-furnished state; for lie had obeyed her injunctionsiand bough; as little funiiture as might be, in addition to the few things he had inherited from his mother. His consulting room (hew gra n d it sounded!) was completely arrangt , d. ready for stray patients; and it was Well calculated to make a good impreission ion them. There was a Turkey carpet on the floor, that had been his mother's, and *as just sufficiently worn to give it the air' of respectability which hale home pieces' of furniture have when they look as if the) had not just been bought for the occasion. but are in some degree hereditary. me same appearance pervaded the room : Ole library table (bought second-hand, it mest be conlesseil,) the bureau—that hail be'en his mother's—the leather chairs (as hered itary as the library table,) the shelves Crawford bad put up for DMeter Browe's medical hooks, a good engraving or two too the walls, gave altogether so pleasant lin aspect to the apartment that both lt.iceir and Mrs. Brown thought, for that evening at any rate, that poverty was just as coin fortal,le a thing as riches. Crawler. lief taken the liberty of placin flowers g a few - flowe about the room, as his humble way o wel coming his mistress ; late autumn fitwets, blending the idea of summer with tl at of winter, suggested by the bright lift e tire I in the crate. Christie :sent up del cious scones fur tea, and Mrs. Fraser had - up for her wantrif—geniality, as well 1 could, by a store of marmalade and ton hams; lkietor Brown could not O in this comfort until he had showy garet, almost with a groan. how many I were as yet unfurnished, how nue maims' to be done. But she laugl his alarm lest she should be disap in her new home, declared that she s like nothing better than plannin. contriving; that what with her own for upholstery, and Crawford's for y the rooms should be furnished as if b ic, and no bills—the usual couseilue eomfort—be forthcoming. But wi morning and daylight Doctor Brown' iety returned. He saw and felt every in the ceiling. every spot on the rip( for himself, but for Margaret. I constantly in his own mind, as it se comparing the house he had brbug to, to the one she had left, lie . constantly afraid lest she had repen would repent having married him. morbid re3tlestness was the only dra to their great happiness; and, t o d. with it, Margaret was leif into ex much beyond her original Luten,tior. bought this article in preferenCe bemigsie liar husband, if he went' sh. with her, seemed so miserable if pected that she denied herself the al' wish on the score of economy. tile: to avoid taking him out with her wl went to make her purchases, as it very simple thing to her to choose t i expensive thing. Ewen though it we ugliest, when she was by herself, bu simple painless thing to her to bard heart to his look of mortification wh quietly said to the shopsuan that sli not afford this or that. On aiming a shop after one of those occasions, ' said ,MFZI "0 Margaret, I ought not tb- hay . ried you. You must forgive-1 h loved - you." "Forgive you, James!" said she. making me so happy 1 What shout you think I care so much for red i twerp!e to moreen ? Don't speak so please." "0 Margaret 1 hilt don't forget ask you to forgive me." Crawford was everything that promised to be, and more than desired. He was Margaret's right all her little bousebetA plebs, in . , 1 1 - i - ',I .. f, 4 1,,;. -1 . --, 7... it r --:- -- ''''..•* - Yr.• , -314 • 4 ''' - c ••••*--" --, - - --.... K. - . 44 - . ^ / ' '‘', • V . , • - ~ • . - I ' • 1 4: , ... • • • If . - , • ;.. - 4 . ; , • , - _ - , • -t,...-- . i, - / , '- • ' . , A . , ~. 1 . ~_, . ~ - ..• . , - t : 0/1171ZOVIL . . . . * ' ... , ... •••• 4 „i Qara.0.,...t. , • - . . i,) Ikelesate.ANlsleseme-61aillheenks, * : ,•. . , - 1 -T•i ., E . „ , .. r. ..1 . . 616 h • - \_. \ 11 • - -..‘ - I i ' ..' , „ • 1. .VE , • .. The pmeekeketibmo=` . Mit vreafinsiageifthehertr beeeelree . lir ess ailee ni = s te s t w lle is* :r egth4 lhee—. Allit * We% tattooed , , .." 1 . , '.. -::- v I : 9.. 'l. . . , ,„.. , i ............._......._..........—. Throbs ever Me &Mime psis. -0 - ... f.. - . , =mu* pttoplasToß. ' 4v ' - ''- 7' " ' . IRO pim ATV][ IN emotes. ~........___.; be ____........._. IA" I:.w• • - r` I IngiblO 11111 k/. ter' 1 AGIlk 14100/1 . : _ -. • r ... A t .1 by bier , . O r d lie, .... ofr could '' . 4 tius unatiL l _4O tr -d I fr. 1 G t . • V '. • 164:1111 rth illo,_ al for ; • teerwerd,, 7 k Aike .. . = oc, a nd, •:-.4 • 114 . a uo wig , ~ • - rinrsorpritied _ Vii• ter anti ii , • . stabding ht•the N L -". dhldeseed perplexity . 0 ~ • . . - ••• Gibloittheiralle ilk Mt •, je....4" s GC *GM lb, 'l. . • r: • dimini et zatire itt, . for, ;ou l d but, 1 a have . • netioniation. Sae' a I Aid. . belie Meg bitetich h. n , - twee, enie we reetora -14, the - ' s " : Nifili M b her only She .• 1 k " t for sub -1 ' I• - . vie • of the ob. mai . • eeneegeteeoeil of vik. 'bile , -.: hole enerittea were . . . as 1 . ' k _ •._ ery ,ar Me nikteey, sk . goftre,m• the Roper is• Jr. Asteistalautd sat all `e At . . "the Oernnuts, fascist. 5 ',. . i '. hie limba in' Atude . `7' • -19 1 .• - . siren hi s t i i* -,7 .. 'l7 . cal eith fa 1 sudden • • apteeo call out on Mg*. . 6 ,' . • en „. , ~ , . ',keels._ ilecput c ,A said 4,,, .1 1 IJ. •I. uti r ve h e . ” 0 - . Pk asibemen at that, , u 'i ng /shiz lhi r, .. 7. : ..,:, .7 roci said alt'un in - - op discern . - haerialsattchiging. i just.. , . . illiadoitter with' a ltuyter . • , - - bet niAt Ste-the Ad wh- . .". • beak., lark* told had .. ; . .. ; .. wan. I 13ci lon , • - LI, , . . . ao;" aid. f, • ' asissie "middy, and full Yafttioty ford t r .. 'Ovid • the sweep /yogi' : •• . , and W i lma me?' , - -.- • night. It, Aar -. Dail flea .ever leavel • ' r ..: , " , • . -. 1 441. ie • 'i cant een npri pottu To ' ' l ludl4 ili gtit • the . seek, eisd. ['west.to pay . ..s. . :....,.' • ' lie blast _ have hi '',77 7. But deer me, 'how " .-, -'• tawnist therb had Au •eh • .• -' in Lim ?" ;ff . z, . i 1 ' into the biareep r.- . , . . tj) her husbopi, s the look. . ... I" ' 4 rodeo& ... , . Me 'one 'who wa ileep. Tol _ izeopl.tursted g dm ,Alt . •, • it last -eight. The rag el . . . • - - . wliezi X vreut - Nrrii . .:4 - • the bolt lass t.." i •-' • ' theughtfal si• . „. • ~ . . .. - , ... use /wing bins in • Cal 'ld' 118 .14 " . • , knoir tbe :, • . -' . e ,of •eastrae," '-' ' Irat Wel*Nitlg to * - .11•.' • . vs . mose . -* ~e otrx.r t ett I I th , ' . who. dle L.. , _ =1 I. . -hi Intl( eaw) Mar w imq ri at nted ould and lent nery, mar. ye SO "For make pref- MiAkl. how luttl ki ntl iu a way which irritated Christie not a little, Tbk bald between Christie and Crawford wea the growasadhosodert in the Irma& = arm I t s / it .=........ ut Der move. --swq stalisret dial not ahoagie to t ry question.bmthnt them down to aka& ousy of her fellow ant, which the mis tress did all inlet power to heal. On the whole, bowmen: - four peeple fiarming, this fan*" livedlogether In tolerable har p:l9W. Doetar t Zzn was snore than set twith his - his setranbi, his pro eeskrend prospeett, and, most of all, with his little, brig*, ettetgetic wif e.. _Marga ret, lieom til lb' t„xne, was taken by cer t Art Amidst lieehnsband!: but the ten (erenby of these .• . , wasi not to weaken her Affection, . . rie baU tett a feelingof pity for what ap . • :. to her morbid suf. fenngs and map .. .. • pity ready to be turned intospotpativ as mem as she could discover any defaiite eause for his arca- 1 sional depression Hof spirits.. Christie -did d i m WI riot pretend to lik Crawford ; but, Mar garet quietly noel to listen to her fftamblings and d tent on this head, and as Crawford wits almost painfully so licitous to gain the good opinions of the old'Seoteh woman,:there was no open rup tureir between, tit . On the whole. the popular, successful Doctor Brown was se parently the mos anxious person in his family. There oo dbe no great Gauss for this as regarded ' money affairs. By one of those Wary acci enter which sometimes lift a man out of h struggles, and him on to smooth; toneneurnhered gro= lie luul - made a great step in his profession u4 progress, and their income from this spurts was likely to be fully aaatuch af. Margaret and he hail ever anticipated in their most sanguine moments, With tits likelihood, too, of 4 steady increase as the years went on. I must explain myself more frilly an this head. . • Margaret .herself hail rather more than 4 11 it hundr ' aryear ; sometitues,.indeed, her dive' hadramounted, to owe hundred and, • yor 4,orty 4s:win& ; but on that she da not ?bly. Doctor Brown had seventee hundrthrertutining of the three thousand left him by his;mother ; and,out of this nifty, he had to pay for some of the furniture, the bills for which had not been sent in at the time, in spite of all Margaret's entreaties that such might be the c ase. They came in. about a weeekkiee• fore the time when the events Lasit going to narrate took place. . Of course they amounted to more than even the prudent Margaret had expected, and she was a little *inspirited to find how much money it would take to liquidate them. But, curiously and contradictorily enough—es she had often noticed befOre-, any real cause for anxiety or disappoint ment ~ ,d not seem to afloat her husband' ch • : an. Ile laughed at her dismay over h ~. accounts, jingled the proceeds of that da -'m work in his pockets, coentnd It out to • ~,,L,.. ca 1 . 4....... 1.... ~,. '• .„:....„ garet e the guineas, and carried theni up stai ,, . to her own seeretaire in silence; having learnt the difficult art of trying to swallo • down her household cares in the presen •of her husband. When she came hack sl e was cheerful, if grave. He had taken p the bills in her absents., and haul been at ding them up. "INo hundred and sixty-six pounds." he said, p tting the accounts away to clear the table G r tea as Crawford brought in thit, things: " Why, 1 don't call thrarnuelt. I believe 11 reckoned on their coming to a great deal more. I'll go into the city to morrow and sell out some shares, and set your little heart at ease. Now don't co and taut a spoonful has tea in to-night to help to pay these hills. Earning is better than saving, anti I am earning at a famous rate. (live me goisl test. Maggie. for I h a v e done a good day's work." They were sitting in theiloetor's consult ing men for the better acv my of fire. To add to Margaret's discomfort the chimney smoked this evening. She had held her tongue front any repining wools: for she retneml lens! the old proverb about a smoky chimney and a scolding wife: but she was more irritated by the pull's of smoke com ing over her pretty white work than she eared to show ; and it 'was in a sharper tone than usual that she spoke in Ilid4ling craw fool take care and have theehimney swept. 'l'lle next morning all had cleared brightly otf. • tier husband had convinced her that all their money mutters were going on well: the tire burned brightly at breakfast time, and the unwonted fun shone in at the win dows. Margaret thanked him, and aegui eseed in all his plans about giving a gener al cleaning to the room. the more readily, because she felt that she had spoken sharp ly the night before. She decided too and pay all her bills, and make some e l i .tant Calls ma the next morn in g and her hie,- hami promised to got into the city idyl pro vale her with the money. This he did. lie showed her notes that evening. locked them up for the night in his bureau ; and In! in the morning they were gone! They had bookfasted in the back parlor, or half-furnished dining-room. It Was not long before he came back that Margaret went to look for him. Ile did hot seem to heart Margaret's step, as she Made her way among mlle4l-up carpetsand eha.in4 piled on each other. she haul to touch hint on the shoulder before she could rouse him. ".lamer, James!" she said, in alarm. Ile looked up at her ahnost as if he did not know her. " 0 Margaret ! " he said, and took hold of her hands, and hid his face in her neck. Dearest love, what Is it?" she asked, I +thinking he was suddenly taken ill. " Some one has been to my bureau since night," he groaned, without looking !up or moving. " And taken the money?" said Margaret, in an instant understanding how it stood. lt flag a great blow ; a great loss, far great er than the few extra pounds by which the bills had exceeded her calctilations: yet it seemed as if she could bear it better: "Oh deur!" she said, -that is bad : but after all —do you know," she said, trying Oo raise his face, so that she might luck into it, and give him the encouragement of her honest, loving eves, "at first f thought you were deadly ill, and all sorts of dreadful possi bilities rushed through my Mind—it:is such a re li e f to find it is artily Money—" Only money." he echoed, sadly; avoid ing her look, as if he could not bear to show her how he felt It. " And after all," she said,-with tit can't be gone far, Only last night ere. The ebituney-sweetwr.we must send Craw ford fOr the police directly. You did net take the number of the notes?" ringing the bell as she spoke. "No ; they were onlv to be in our pee tension one night," he said. " NO, to be sure not." The. cbarvroman now appeared $ the door with her pall of hot water. Illsrganat looked into her face, as if to mad guilt or in nominee. She was a protege of Chtfintle's, who wail not apt to accord her favor easily, or without good grounds ; an honest, de- .. _PA; cent mob! ilt; she be and ,e who strange MX61:031 •-OYIa I tient of °Meet. stuerd offende crime. beat on t. and she was ow, steps kg poured out say; _no • any attic tion ; that whiol the lifargare) instant , " Is an) terrupti , usual di "I had letigr Plast, an' me you . your par& indeed,. his his face was "p Crawfm has got into all the mot is gone, at al, hint in the I ain't Yea! I bel had my charwoman pantry ; and tame, compl so late ; and been alone ma'am, WV been AO MI, " How said M. WAS He keno from ol " Yes! No key without bureau wr, to it this moo He relapsed lance. " eL my rate, wondering now you can, for a name of. the c she *tided. as leave the room. "Indeed.. ... jast, agreed' vtiti But Margaret had turned away with an impatient gesture of despair. Crawford went without another word to week a la liSeman. In vain did his wife try and pen ado Dr. Brown to taste any breakfast a cop of tea was all he would try and swallow, and that was taken in hasty gulfs, to clear his dry throat, ai4 he heard Crawford's voice talk ing to the policeman whom he was uhher ing in. The policeman heard all and said little. Then the inspector came. Doctor Brown seemed to leave all the talking to Crawford, who apparently liked nothing better. Mar garet was infinitely distressed and dismay ed by the effect the robbery seemed to have on her husband's energies. The probable loss of such a sum was had enough, but there was something so poor and weak in character, in letting it affect him so strong ly—to deaden all energy and destroy all hopeful spring, t hat, although Margaret did not dare to define her feeling, northe cause of it, to herself, she had the fact before her perpetually, that, if she were to judge of her husband from this morning only, she must learn to rely on herself alone in all eases of emergency. The inspector repeat edly turned from Crawford to Doctor anti Mrs. Brown for answers to his inquiries. It was Margaret who replied, with terse, short sentencte, very different from Crawford's long, involved explanations. At length the inspector asked to speak to her alone. She followed him into the next room, last the affronted Crawford and her despoOdent husband. The inspector gave one Sharp look at the charwoman, who was going on with her scouring with stolid indifference, turned her out, and then asked Margaret where Crawford came from,—how long he had lived with them, and variouo other questions, all showing the direction suspicion. had taken. This .hocked argaret extremely ; hut she q uickly aintmvered every inquiry : and, at the end, wktehed the inspector's face close ly, and waited for the avowal of „the sus picion. lie led the way back to the other room without a word, however. Crawford had left, and Doctor Brown was trying to read the morning's letters (whieh had just been delivered,) but his hand shook so much that he could not see a line. " Doctor Brown," said the inspector, " I have little doubt that your man-servant has committed this robbery. I judge so from his whole manner; and from his anx iety to tell the story, and his way of try ing to throw suspicion on the chimney sweeper, neither whose name nor dwelling can he give; at least ho ways not. Your wife says he has already been out of the house this morning, even before he went to summon a policeman ; so there is little doubt that he has found means for conceal ing or tliitposing of the notes ; and you say you do not know the numbers. However, that cart probably be ascertained." At this moment Christie knocked at the door, and, in a state of great agitation, de manded to speak tot. She brought up an additional stort7rspieions circum stances, pope of them much in themselves, but all tending to criminate her fellow-ser vant. She had expected to find herself blamed for starting the idea of , Cantina:l's guilt, and was rather surprised to find her self listened to with attention by the in spector. This led her to tell Many other little things all bearing against Crawford, which, a dread of being thought jealous and quarrelsome, kind led bit t comma before from her master and mistress, tst the end of her story, the Instlegtor " There can be no doubt of the cause to be taken. You, air, must give your man servant in chair. He will be taken before the sitting magistrate directly and there is already evidence enough him be remanded for a week ; during !which time we ma? , trace the notes , and aimplete the chain. ' "Mist I prosecute?" said Dr, Brown, al most, lividly pale. "It is, I *24 a serious loos of money tome; but there will be the further extesee of the prosocutiOu—the lees of tine—the—" lie stopped. Ho saw his wiks indignant ryes fixed upon ; and „shrank from MARCH 1859. femint to subl ime the ohmmeter eI *NS her "Id -became or time to their look of uncce s tioioat 4ioeph. " Yes, inspector he Odd. 'IT glee in charge. Dot whet is *tit. Of emus* I take the eestewPteebeee. We take the cow segtienoes. jillon't litaggszed 'He In a kind tor wild,low robe. of Whig:4lV gort Mooed it,best, to titlamo notice. L s Ton/ us=idly what to de," she laid, verY midi and etly, addressing himself to the polls an. to LC= g r " ht tl iP3' l4 if Ile eg, d 6Krtkru and bringing Christie is a and then want away to take measures ter aseariag Crawford. = Margaret was surprised to find bow lit tle hum or violence needed lobe used_ ht 'Cra~'s stmt. She had expected to hear sounds of commotion hi the house, if indeed Crawford himself had nottaken the alarm and eacasipeti. But., when she had Suggested - theistic' , apprehension to the in spector, he smiled,' and told - her that when he had first heard of the charge from the policeman on the beat, he had stationed a detective officer within sight of the house to watch all ingress or ; so that Craw . - itard's whereabouts soon be discover ed-if he had attempted to escape. Margaret's attention was now directed to her husband. He wastzudting hurried pie paiations for setting of on his round of visits, and evidently did not wish to have any _conversation with hor b4 ; i tt i Zject of the thornineftvent. to be -back by eleven o'clock ; ore which time the had Loured lhem.their prea enee would not be needed. pinks or twice Doctor Brown said, as if to hinnost r = dar uffisen business." Indeed, feltit•to be so; 'and now the& 4beneoeseig immediate -for speech and action was over, she to fancy that she must be hard- Ift.rW—very d ent in common feeling; itlasmUch es she had not sulked him her *husband-at the discovery theythe servant —whom they had been learning to con sider as a friend, and to look upon him as having their-interestsso warmly at heart— was, in all probability, a treacherous thief. She remembered all his pretty marks of at. • tion to her from the day when he had ireloonied her arrival at her new home by his humble present of Bowers, until only the /lay before, when, seeing her fatigue d. he.bed, unasked, made her a cup of eofthe —ooffee such as none but he could maim Mow often had he thought of warm, dry clothes for her husband; how wakeful had be been at nights; how t in the mornings! It was no wonder thO, het hus band felt this discovery of domestic treason lieu*. It was she who was hani . suld sel fish, and thinking mprWor tke'reOovery of tbe *Daley than of The tertMe disappoint - . in character, if the charge against Crawford were true. At eleven.o'clock her husband returned with ir cab. Christie had thought the occa sion of appearing at a police-office worthy of her Sunday clothes, and was as smart as hbr. • . s conld4nake her. But-Mar d her husband looked as pale and 'aorrowstiiitkcgt, as if they had been the so- Cused, and not the accusers. Doctor Brown shrank from meeting Crawford'agatra as the one took his place in the witness: box; the other in the dock. "set- Crawford was trying—Margaret wad sum of this—to cate.h.ida master's-atten tion. Failingin that, be looked a t, . ;.1 Indeed' the whole character of his face weer changed. Instead of the calm, smooth look of attentive obedience, he had as sumed an insolent, threatening expression of defiance ; smiling occasionally in a most unpleasant manner as Doctor Brown spoke of the bureau and its contents. He waste mended for a week, but, the evidence as yet being far from conclusive,, bail for his appearance was taken. The bail was offer ed by his brother, a naipectable tradesman, well known in his neighborhood, and to whom Crawford had sent to his arrest. - So Crawford was at large again, much to Christie's dismay; who took off her Sun day clothes, on her return home with a heavy heart, hoping rather than trusting that they should not all be murdered in their beds before the week was out. It must be confessed Margaret herself was not entirely free from fears of Crawford's ven geance ; his eyes had looked so maliciouely and vindictively at her and her husband as they gave their evidence. But his absence in the household gave Margaret enough to do to prevent her dwel ling on foolish fears. His being away made a terrible blank in their daily. comfort, which neither Margaret nor Christie—exert themselves as they Would—could fill up; andjt was the more. necessary that all should go on smoothly, as Doctor Brown's nerves had received such a shock at the dis covery of the guilt of his favorite, trusted servant, that Margaret was led, at times, to apprehend a serious illness. He would pace about the room at night, when he thought she was asleep, moaning to him self—would minim the utmost persuasion tfi Induce him to go out and see his patients. He was worse than ever after consulting the lawyer whom he had employed to conduct the prosecution. There was, as Margaret was brought unwillingly to perceive, some mystery in the ease for he eagerly took his letters from the post, going to the door as soon as he heard the knock, and conceal ing their directions from her. As the week passed away, his nervous misery still in creased. One evening—the candles were not light ed—he was sitting over the fire in a listless attitude, resting his head on his hand, and that supported on his knee—Margaret de termined to probe and find out the nature of the sore that he hid with such constant care. She took a stool and sat down at his feet, taking his hand in hers. ,• Listen, dearest James, to an old story I once heard. 1 t may interest you. There were once too orphans, boy and girl in their hearts, though they were a young man and a young woman in years. They were no brother and sister, and by and by they fell in love—just ,4t the same food, slily way you and I did,. you reanenther.— Well, the girl was amongst her own people, but the boy Was far away from hbi.--ifili deed, he had any; but the girl loieda so dearly for himself that sometimes - the thought she was glad that he had no one to care for him but just her alone. Her_ friends did not like him as much as she b i bou did; forpe rhaps they were wise, grave, cold pee e, and she, I dare my, was very foolish. And they did not lie he r marr ing the y—which was just stupidity in him, forth ey had not a word today against, him; but, t a week here the tourisige day Was a e 4. taleY t4walght t4q had famid out soul . thing—eny ciaoing We, don't take awayyour band—d on ' t tremble so —only just listen! Her aunt "me) to her and said : "Slhild, you mi t s e t r and up your lover I His father was tau slimed; and if he is now alive , he a transported oonviet. The marriage cannot take place.' But the girl stood up, and said: ' U he has known this great solver and shanie, he needs my love all the more, I will wit lesse him nor foisake hiin, but Iwo him all the better. And I charge re; arnica. you hope to receive a blessing ihr doingas you Weak' be done by, that you toll 'too one!' I really think that iiirl awed• her aunt., in some strange way, intoasereia-+ But when sho was left alone. she cried tltand moy, toiltiV ag t=! a i ttra Vivadlfio sq 4 elm conceal forever that she hid t he _burden; but now she thinks-0 m us band 1 how you must have —" as be' bent, down Ida" heed 'en her ebotddiw, and cried terrible snen's town "God be thanked!" he mild at " You know all, and you do not from me .oh, what a mineable, deceitful I have bee®! Mined! Yes— eacagloto drive me mai, and if I had bat been brat* I sight Uwe been mowed all this lockgtwelveasenths of . Bet it is right I should have been And you knew it even before we were barried, when you might have dawn bea k In • " locialdnot : you would nothave broken off your momumumnt with me, would you, the Ma eireunastenoes, if our omen bad been reversed ?" " I do not know. Perhaps I might, for I am .not so brave, so good, so strong as you, my Margaret. How cionki I be I Let me tell yon more : We wandered about, my mother and I, thankful that our name was such a common one, • but shrinking from Avery alhurion—in a way which no one can understand, who lugs not been morictionsof an inward sore. Living in an assize town was a torture: a oommemill one was near ly as bad. My father was the son of a divided cl well known to his brethren a cathedral town was to be avoid ed, because there the circumstance of the Dean of Saint Botolph's son having been transported was sure to be known. I had to be educated ; therefore we had to live in a town: for my mother. could not bear to part lam MB, and I was sent, to a day school. We were very poor for our station --not we had no station ; we were the wife andehitd ofa fr etinvict—for my poor mother's early luibits4 should have said. Bat when I was about fourteen my hither died in his exile, leaving; as convicts in those days sometimes did, a large fortune. Itall came to in. - My mother shut herself up, and cried and prayed for a whole day. Then she called me in, and took me into her counsel. We solemnly pledged ourselves to give the money to some charity, as soon as I was legally of age. Till then the in terest was laid by, every penny of it : though sometimes we were in sore distress for money, my education coat so much. But bow could we tell how the money 100 been accumulated?" Mere hedropped his voice. " Soon after I was one-and-twenty, the rang with admiration of the un known munificent donor of certain sums. I loathed their praises. I shrank from all recollection of my father. I remembered him dimly, but always as angry and violent with my mother. My poor, gentlemotherl Margaret, she, loved my father ; and, fbr her sake I have tried, since her death, to feel kindly towards his memory. Soon after my mother's death, I began to know you, my jewel, my treasure I" After awhile, he began n. " But 0, Margaret even now you know not the worst. After my mother's death, I found a bundle of law m3ers—of newspaper re porte about my father's trial, poor soul.— Why she had kept them, I cannot say.— They were covered over With notes in her hand-writing : and for that reason,. I kept them. It was so trehing to reed hei re cord or the days. epent by her in her soli hag innocence, while he was embroiling hhnself deeper and deeper in crime. I kept this bundle (as I thought. so safely !) In' a secret chewer of my bureau : but t ha t wretch Orawford has got hold of it. I mis- - dr - Azle e lowa what money I had ; and now Crawford Ateatens to bring out the one terrible fact, in open court, if he can ; and his lawyer may do it, I believe. At any rate, to have it blazoned out to the world—l who have spent my life in fearing This hour ! But moat of all for you, Margaret I Still—if only it could beavoided—who will employ the son of Brown, the noted forger ? I shall lose all my pratice. Men will look askance at mess I enter their doors. They will drive me into crime, I sometimes fear that crime is hereditary 1 0, Margaret, what am I to do ?" " What can you do?" she asked. " I can refuge to prosecute." " Let Crawford go free, you knowing him to be guilty?" " I know him to be guilty." " Then, simply, you cannot do this thing. You let loose a criminal upon the pll WO." But., if I do not, we shall come to shame and poverty. It is for you 1 mind it., not for myself. I ought never to have mar ried." " Listen to me. I don't care for poverty; and, as for shame, I should feel it twenty times more grievously if you and I had con sented to screen the trinity from any fear or for any selfish motives of our own. I don't pretend that I shall not feet it when first the truth is known. But my shame will turn into pride as 1 watch you live t down. You have been rendered mor d, dear husband, by having something all your life to conceal. Let the world k ow the truth, and say the worst. You wi go forth a free, honed, honorable man, able to do your future work with Out fear." " That scoundrel Cranford has sent for an answer to his impudent note," said Christie, putting in her bead at the door. "Stay I May I write it ?" said Margaret. Rhe wrote: Whatever you may do or say, there is but one ()mime open to us. No thmits can deter your master from doing his duty. ' ' MA 110 • RST BROW N . " " There !" she said, passing it to her hus band ; "he will see that I know all, and I suspect he has reckoned something on your tenderness for me." Margaret's note only enraged, it did not daunt Crawford. Before a week was out, every one who cared knew that Dr. Brown, the rising young physician, was son of the notorious Brown, the forger. All the eon• sequences took place which he had antici pated. Crawford had to suffer a severe sentence; and Doctor Brown and his wife had to leave the house and go to a smaller one; they had to pinch and to screw; aid ed in all most zealously by the faithful Christie. But Dr. Brown was lighter-heart ed than he had ever been before in his conscious lifetime. . His foot was now firm ly planted on the ground; and every step he rose was a sure gain. People dad say that Margaret had been seen in those werat times On her hands and knees cleaning her own doer-atep. But I don't believe it, for Christie would never have let her do that. And, as far as my own evidence goes. I can only say that the last time I was in London I sew a door plate with Doctor James Blown upon it, on the door of a handsome house in a handsome square, /as I looked, I saw a broughaM drive Up to the door, and a lady get out, and go into that house, who was certainly the Margaret Fraaer of old As vet., more portly, more stern I had said.. But, as I watched and tbouAt, Isom her comet° the dining-room window with a baby in her arms, and her whole Owe Melted into a smile of infinite sweatoms. M._ reporter of the Cincinnati Garotte indulged in an 'experimental dose of has boob skitWats ago. and consequently started :upon fahmkash tour t hrough the malted i n his being wasted ,K=2ripth t~h tluktletert: r enter thearinig.— i The raw tof his =- M eer" 1.4 yet appeared in the Ela- 'llWrintiiilinietionbetwatai those whom the *mid enemata as soodtand them whom it condemn as bad, El in many ewe that the former have been better sheltered from temptation. ~;! i)' 1: ! ;~I ; Oat day when Dunn isZ4 2,•jif nekssmasi of the Bus lita Zen* was. • in the Bon-, leveed St. Antoine wit/x wol te offer ed to wager with the that he were to hides six-livre pities in edurst, his dog would discover am ii-Wthg it to him. The wager was accepted. and the • y of money secreted, after being. marked:— When the two hadpeooteded some distance from the spot, if.' Dumont called to his dft that he had kiatemnetidstairerder ed to seek it. Conk*. turlect back, and his muter and his com panion pursued their walk to the Rue St. while a traveler, who hap pened to be then returning in a small chaise from incennes, perceived the P iece of which his -horse had kicked from its place; he alighted, task it up, and drove to his inn. in the Rue Pont aua-Chour. Caniche had just reached the spot in search of the lost piece when the stranger picked it up. He followed the chaise, went into the inn, and stuck close to the traveler. Having seonted out the coin which he had been ordered to b? hack in the pocket of the latter, he lea up incessantly at and about e traveler, supposing him to be 'some dog that had been lost or left behind• by his master, regarded his (Ramat movements as marks of fonchien, and as pis animal was handsome, he detennined to keep him. He gave him a good supper, and on retiring to bed, took him with him to his chamber. No sooner had he pulled off his breeches than they were sewed by the dog. The owner, conceiving that he wanted to play with them, took them sway again. animal began to bark at the door, which the traveler opened, under the idea that the dog we tad to go out. Caniche snatch ed the breeches ; and away he Sew. The treveler posted after him with his nightcap on, and literally war aeries. Anxiety for the fate of a purse full of gold Napoleons, of forty francs each, Irks* was in one of the pockets, gave redoubled Vekaity to his stepe. Caniche ran full speed to his mas ter's house, where the stranger arrived a MODSOntafterwards breathless and He accused the dog of robbing him e 7r, ' said tho master, "my , dog la a very fidthful area ; and if he has rtst'assy with your breeches it is because you have io them money which does not belong to you." The traveler became still more exasperated.— "Compose yourself sir," rejoined the other smiling; "without doubt there is in your purse a six-iliner , piece, with such marks, which you have picked up in the Boulevard St. Antoine, and whiqh Ithrew down there with the.firm conviction that my dog would bring it back main. 'This is the cense of the robbery which helms committed-upon you." The stranger's rage now yield.ed to astonishment ; he delivered the six-livre piece to the owner, - and could not forbear caressing the dog which had given him so much uneasiness and such an unpleasant chase. Piooolomini Mooed by . 111:11take. Train OP. Clafkiik 1 4. 11 /Pirlits - .During Piccolomini's late sojourn at the Spencer House, in this city, the following incident occurred through a mistake, as natural as it must have been agreeable. A young gentleman, residing in the north ern part of this State, received a letter this week, from his sister, who had been attend ing school in Kentucky, stating that she would be on a certain day at the Spencer House, where two friends of hers were going, and that she would like for him to arrive in good season and accompany her home. The brother, Alfred, came at once, for he had not seen his sister for nearly two years, having passed much of that time in New York, and, on arriving at the hotel, asked for Mimi and the number of her room. Hoping to surprise her agreeably, he tho't he would suprise her unannounced, having learned the floor and the position of the apartment. Just; before he reached the room he saw his siSter,'as he supposed, com ing out. She was small, plump, as when he saw her last, and thought he would con ceal himself behind the wall of the hall until she came opposite. He did ho, and in another moment a pair of little feet were falling in pedal music upon the floor. She was within reach of him. It was she, of course, he thought., although the gather ing shadows of tl* evening rendered ob jects somewhat indistinct. That little head with dark tresses; and humming of an air —always his sisterfs habit—made him con ti deht. lie would hesitate no longer; so be extended his arm* and:elasping thedimin utive figure before( him, and bending down and imprinting three or four cordial kisses on one of the most delicious of months, he asked, "Don't you know your brother, you little rogue." The - little rei.ttee" looked blank with amazement, and ; then, muttering' some thing very sweet but not intelligible, slip ped out of his half-enclasped arms, and re treated in the direction she had Mile, Alfred now saw he must have made a mistake; and, as rioone appeared, be went to the senior proprietor, to explain the awk ward position in which ho had been placed, having no desire to be compelled to be shot at, or lie shot., by some genuine brother. The Colonel, who was well acquainted with Alfred, informed him that he had pais taken Picoolomini for his sister. For the first time the brother learned that the diminutive divinity was in the city, and immediately wrote heran apolog, saying he could not regret what had °colt.- red on his own account, but would, if she desired it, on hers. He bad no idea he was pressing the Psychean lips of the loveliest and most fascinating songstress in the world, and that the mistake had Qnly taken place because she was as beautiful as his sister. She had his most humble lipology for what had occurred, and if she would not be sat isfied he would return her what he had taken. When this note was translated to the be witching Marie, as she was assured of it* sincerity, she laugited immoderately 4 and said she had supposed perhaps hinging a pretty girl (here shei looked very archly ), on meeting her, was an American custom. It had frightened her p i first, but now she did not care, for, said e, in her attractive English Tuscan : ,•Ze klieg deed me •no 'arm—indeed it yea not Ito dees—vat you say eet is?—deeble." sir The Gettysburg (Pa.) papers record the death. of the twin daughters of Abra ham Guise, of that coon*, utithe 44th year of their age, and add: They !embank and reared together--sever Ilporated for a single night during their ltrea—took the same disease, (measles,) died within a few hours of each other, and were buried side by side in the saute grave- ggi. When Gen. Ethan Allen was a pelisse! in Canada, he um dining within parq Of ofil (Mg sad their ladies and swing some red peppers en the table, intended tthim out up with the nteat, to season it, he pi Aad one up and put It In his mouth. After chew ft althikottOon the tough skin, he poked ft stiV Olds mouth, and Waling rather a4ahin,* ni it said, the tears *Ain in his 'yam 4 4 Lathes and pedestal if Ton have no oWethins, I *ill put this little red thZ . hack," objections, I will pin this little thing back," and he immediately suited the Ration to the world, Tim I'd 1 411„ The 6 madteer soft h ; The reela eeproolg—tio mell4ms Le Tim Wale mfg--4he lhaeied woe— All time ease beat dreams, The gleam' of therielmm Lime— My old Mem with-Us Wade* themes. n • Imes deed ponies of my prime. A 000n,ozzoWA L 13