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BY HAVVLEY cRUSER.
THE BRIDE'S STORY.
When I was but a country lass; now fifteen , 1
years ago,
I lived *here flows "
the; QverprOck through
meadows wide and low ;
There first. when s'ti!l wcre, bending blue and
' blossoms bowing fsed,
I saw the ragged little boy thit went to school
with me.
His homespun coat was fraygd and worn,,with
patches covered o'er,
His hat--ah, such a hat as that was never seen,
• before. \ • •
The boys and, girls, when\ flrsi he came, they
shouted in .their glee,
And jeered the ragged little boy who went to
school with me., • '
His father was a laboring man, and mine was
highly born;
Our people held both hith and'his in great con
• tempt and scorn ; .
They 'said' I should • not . stoop to own a play:
mate such as he, • • .
The bright eyed, ragged little boy who went• to
' school with me. •
•
Yet spite of all the jeers around from ebilaren
better dressed,
My heart went out to meet the heart that beat
within his breast;
His look was fond, his s voice was low, and,
strange as it may
I loved the rt — iiged little' boy that went to
school with me.
For years they had toretten him, 'but when
again We met,
His looks, his voice, his gentle ways, remained
in memory yet ; ,
They , saw alone the ma of mark, hutj could
• only see
That bright eyed, ragged little boy that went
to school with me. i ,
He had remembered me, it seemed,a3 I remem
bered, him,
Nor time, nor honors, in his mind thp cherish
- ed past could dim ;I , •
Young love bad gro r vin to older lime, and so to=
day yon see
I wed tt . e ragged little boY who event to school
with me. •
THE SOLDIER'S SON.
ITANY, MANY years ago, at the close
111. of a sultry summer's' day,
.a inin of
middle age was slowly_ toiling up - , a hill
in the environs of the pleasant village of
Anmont, a small town in theysoutb of
France. The wayfarer wag clad in the
habiliments of a private of infantry of
the line ; that is to say, he wore a long- 1
skirted, blue coat, laced with red, much.
soiled and stained ; kerseymeyer breeches
that were once white, 'net at the knee
by tattered gaiters o blaCk cloth, an old
battered chapeau, and a haversack, which
he earned slung over his tight shoulder,
on a sheathed saber. From tirnelto time,
he paused and wiped the heavy drops of
perspiration that gathered constantly up
on his forehead.
"Courage, Francois, courage,' said the
soldier to. himself ; "a few paces
,more
and you will reach home., Ah, this is
sufficiently fatigneing, but nothing to
the sands of Egypt. 'May heaven pre
serve my eyesight long enough to see my
home—my wife—my., brave boy, Victor,
once more ! .Grant me bid that, kind \
Heaven, and I think will repine at
nothing that may happen farther."
It will be seen from the above, t rl btit
Frai.cis lintrand belonged to the a my
which had recently covered itself with
gory in the Egyptian campaign, under
the commatid of Gerold Boneparte, a.
name already &monk in military annals,
lie had fought like a hero ii the battle .
of the pyramids, when the squires of.!
French infantry r4mlsed the, brillia'nt ,
clvalry of Murad Bev, and destroyed the
flower of the Mainelukes by the_-
• fire of their mitekeiry. Wounded in that
memorable battle, be was afterward at
tacked by"thiopithanaltnia of the 'coun
try ; but his eyesight, though, impared,
was not yet utterly.' destro3red. Iforiora
hly discharged; he- had just arrived at
Marseilles, froth Egypt, ans was no 4 ou
hie way home, eager to be 'folded in the
arms of his beloved : ,wife and his young
stir\. Co the soldier tolled bravely up the.
hill, for hex knew: Chat' the white walls of,
his cottage and the
~ foliage of .his little
vineyard would be • visible in the valley
commanded -11 the summit.
At length he reached the bro# of the
bill, and gazed ;eagerly T in the direction
of his humble ; home ; • but O, agony 1 it
was gone ! In itg place a heap. of : black-.
sued ruins lay aniouldering in the Sun
light that seemed to mock the desolation.
At the gate of, the vineyard . ,,tte:twas met
by little Viettir, a boy of ten. .'
"A. soldier.-1"" cried the boy, who did
riot ; recognize hie father'. , "0 Aiir, you
tome baelc,'lrom,. the don't you ?
Perhaps you can tell me soinethintabout,
my poor papa?"
"Victor;my boy, my dear .boy 4 ;don't,
you know me ?"- cried the poor soldier
and strained :_. his cOnitillively in
, . . „
" (M . I know you., now,' rity,dear dear,
PIN ) " 804 hpy.'',Bobbiog, "Clotipv i
PU by the SOlte— , buthow - -614344,i104,
are! Why. your muatachea'itie ttifoed'
gray,"
-Victor; - 1
ed the soldi
"rood ni;
"'peak
'She is d 4
"Dealt!"
as if ..a bul
brain.
'saw. Victor
bathing his
he brbught
ing spring.
told hint th
thv nigh t,'a
and his m
flames:
h€re is your mother.?"' gasp -
'ma !" said the boy.
charge you, boy."
rancois fell to the ground
et had passed through his
n he recovered hie senses, he
kneeling beside him, and
head with cold 'watery which
In his hate from a neighbor
in a. few words ' the child
it cottage had taken fire in
d been burned to the ground,
thee_ had perished in the
1 A kind ,
pearance, a
father and
Here, they p
two days
FratOois B,LI
cotager soon made his ..ap-,
conducted . the unfortunate.
,on- to .his humble. cabin: 7 —
assed - the night and one or
,During. that time
rtrana. neither ate nor slept,
misfortune with an ag
tsed all consolatiOn. On the
ly he regainsd his comic:is ,
was onl,y to be ) conscious.of
c.verwhelming misfortune.—
Was gone. The. agony of
Suffered, and the tears he
,d ;completed the ravages of
but icept ov!
ony tbot . ref
third day o
ure ;' but it
, a'uew and
is eyesigh
mind held ,
'had shed,
his disorder.
"Where
"Here, b
see me ?",
"A las, 'n
Your poor
little hand?'
The tigon
keenly, he a
tune
re you, Victor ?" eaid the
your side, father ; don't yot
my boy. I can see nothing.
ether is blind. 'Give me your
1 -
izing sobs of the boy told how
preciates hie father's mislor
.
D:y your eyes, Victor. ,Remember the
ristructions of your poor mother, how
ihe taught you, to submit with resigns-
Jon to all the sufferings , that providence
sees fit. to , infliat upon us- for both , of ns ;
You will be My eyes, iny.boy."
~"Yee, father; I will work for you and
sui(pport you." ' .
)"You are,too young and delicate, Vic
tor. We. Mint beg our bread."
"Beg, fatlier.?" . .
"Yes, , ,yoU shall guide my footsteps.—
There are gOod people in the world who
will pity rily, infirmities and your youth.
'When they see my 'ragged uniform, they
will say, 'There is one of the braves who
upheld'the; honor. of France Upon- the
btirning 'sands of Egypt,' and they will
not fail to drop a few sous into the old
Soldier's hit. Come, Victor, we- must
naval]. !We have been. too long a bnr
den on our p,?or neighbor."
And so te boy and his father 'set forth
upon ;their wanderings. Neither asked
-1;7
alps ; but hen - seated'by, the roadside,
Under the shadows of an overhanging
tree, the passer-by would halt, and be
stow ai r man sum upon the worn and
blind Soldier. Victor was devoted - to his
father, l
and Heaven smiled upon his filial
affection,. * I Though denied the society
and sports so dear to his youth, he was
always clieeful and happy in the accom
plish-went f hiS 'task. , Often did his
innocentlayety beguile his . father ioto a
temporary forgetfulness of his sufferings.
Thenihe wduld place. his band upon the
bops head, and, stroking his soft, curl
ing locks, smile sweetly as his sightless
‘ eyes were trned.toward him,' and com
mence som military adventure.
In this wp,y l days, weeks, „months, and
ever, years rolled by. They were every
where well 'received and kindly treated ;
and all their. physical . wants were sup
plied. But the old soldier often sighed to'
think of the burden his misfortunes im
posed upon 'his boy, and of - Lis wearing
~
out of his young life without congenial
companionship, without instruction, ,
without a iutiire beyond .the life of a '
me dicant. lie often prayed in: secret
th death might liherate his little guide
fro his voluntary service. - . •
One day, Fracois was • seated alone on
aitope by the .roadside, Victor having
gone 'to the neighboring village on an er
rand, when 'he 'suddenly heard a carriage
stop beside him. The occupant., a man
of middle age, alifhted, and approaclied ,
the, soldier.
• "Your name," said the .stranger, "is, I
,think,4‘raricoiS Bertrand." ,
'l.r.e same." . '
"A soldier of the army of Egypt v'
."Yes.".l P '
"And that pretty boy Who guides you
is your son r_ 1 , . .
"He is--Heaven bless him 1"
"Amen ! . tat has it never occured
'to you,l my friend, that - you are doing ,
him great injustice, in keeping him by,
you at an age *hen he :ought ' to be get-:
sting_ an. edueation to enable lira to push
ibis way in' the world ?" . .
• "Alas t sir, rhave often.,thought of it.
"- But what could supply his place"?' and
Alien, who of befriend and educate
him?" . 1
;,'llls:plamight be: sup Plied by a dog
—and us\fo his ,proteotoi, I, myself, who
h ave nn. so ' should be glad' to adopt and
educate hi ?": , - - ,
His son's, place supplied by a - dog !
The thought was igony,. And to' pare
with Wctoi! The idea was . , is , eruoDfitr
tdeiith 404 ,The old soldiei wasleilent...
"You silent, my .friend: . Has ay .
MONTRO
SE, PA., AUGUST 30, 1.876.
lifer offended you -?"
"No, sir--no. But you will pardon a
other's feelings." • -
"I respect them—and I do not ;wish to
rurry you Take a day to think of my
reposition, and to inform yourself res
edting my position and Chartteter. I
dr a' merchant. My - name: is Eugene
armont, and I reside at Fo. 17 'Rue St.
Honore, Paris. I will meet you at this
Spot to-morrow at the same hour,. and
Shall then expect an answer." E 4 placed
i% golden louis in the hand of the Isoldier,
and departed. - .:, - - • .
1 A little reflection convenced Bertrand'
that it was his duty to accept lie ruer
Chant's offer.'
,
' But cruel as gas the task of reconcil
tug himself to parting with his On, that
f inducing Victor 'to Tacquiesce lin the
rrangement was yet more diffictilt. It
equired the - exercise of authorieyl to see
r, the ties that bound the son to the fa
ther. Bat it was done—Victor . resigned
his task to a little dog that was pro-
Cured by the merchant, and after an ag.
ionizing farewell, was whirled away in
Mormon is carriage.
Years passed en. Victor outstripped
11 his companions at school, and stood
t the head of the military acadediy '
• for
le was striving to. win a name Ond for
tune tor his father. The good )(tOrniont,
from time to time, endeavored to obtain
tidings of the soldier ; but' thelatiter had
pb
urposely changed his unite. coup , e, and,
satisfied that his son was in good hands,
felt a sort of pride in not intruding his
7 overty and misfortunes on the notice of
i ictor's new . companions. The boy,
himself, Was much distressed at not see
ing or hearing from his - father; i but he
kept struggling on saying to himself,
4`Courage, Victor—the good tinie will
1»- - I
come. 1
On the death . of MarmOnt, he entered
the army as a sub-lieutenant, and fought
lis way up to a captaincy - under the eye
of the emperor. At the close of{ a' bril
tont campaign he was invited tO pass a
few weeks at, the chateau of a general of
hoer named Davivier, stew leagues from
ttris. t The company thew was brilliant,
mposed of all that was moat beautiful,
talented. and distiaguished in the circle
n which the general moved. - But the
'star of that goodly company" was Juiia
uvivier, the youthful .andsacconiplished
daughter of the general. - Many distin
uisned iuitors contended for the honor
of her hand ; but the moment Victor ap
peared, they felt they had a formidable
iival: The - belle of the chateau could
of help showing her decided preference
or him, though, with a medeity and
' elicacy, natural to his position, he re
rained from making any decidid advanc
-1
,
One night; however, transported be
pond himself by passion, he betrayed the
Secret of his heart to Julia, as helled her
to hei seat after an intoxicating' Waltz.--
he reception of his almost involuntary
vowal was such as to convince him that
is affection was returned. Bu( - he felt
bat he had done wrong—and. la high
sense of honor induced the young, soldier
timinediately -to seek the geneftd, •and
lake him a party to hie wishes. 1 •
' 'He found him' alone in the embrasure
:,
f a wind 44 that opened on the garden
If -the chateau. . • i
"General," said he, with military .frank -
neBs, "I love your daughter," 1, ,
The general started, and empit a glance
of displeasure on the young mans;.
"I know yon quite slightly, Captain
Bertrand," be answered, "but you are
aware that the man who marries my
daughter must be able to -give her .a true
position in society. • Show me the proof
Of :your nobility and wealth, and I will
•t utertain your proposition.", 1
1 "Alas !" answered the young soldier in a
faltering voice, "I. feel , that I haVe erred
—pity me—forgive me-1 was led_astray
by a pession too strong to be con!trolled.
t have no name--,and iny fortunOs my
4word." 1
The general bowed, coldly,_ and the
young soldier passes out into the harden.
It was a brilliant .moonlight evening.—
gvery object was defined as clearly as if
illuminated by. the sun's rays. :Remov
ing his chapeau, that the night air might
00l his fevered brow. he was about to
-take his favorite seat beside-the finntain
*here he bad passes many hours in Tway
ikig bright' visious of the future., When he
perceived that it was already oecuOied.
-An old man in a faded military uniform
Sat there, with a little , dog lying lat his
.fet. One glance was sufficient—the
next instaut, Victor folded. hini ;to- his
arms.
1 I
I "Father!"
I •
"My boy I" • *. !
The words were interrupted by donval
sive sobs. , , , - i
-I After the first , paisionate greeting Wile
d i ver, the old man' passed his hand over
his son's dress, and it - smile Of 'joy Was re
v'ealed . bv the bright. moonbeams. 'i l
4tA. soldier ! I thought I heArd theslat
tkr of your sabre," said the old' itian.!--
",Where 'did - you "get these epaiiietsi?"
-. 1 '"At' Austerlitz; 'father—tliel Were 'giv
#ii. tni , by the emperor."' -. . ~,, 1 . - -`l,
L. ”Longlive the Btnp,erorr , sskiltbe.old
Tian. "He never, targets his -oluidren`l"
t
, "No, father. For when he gave me
my commission, he said, thoughtfully,
•13ertrand, your name is familiar.
sir—my lather served under the triaolOr.'
remember—he was one of my. old
Egyptians.' And then—father—then he,
gave - _me the .cross of the legion-44nd
told me, when I found, you, to affix itio
your breast in his name." . -
"It is almoSt too - much,"
,sighed the
old soldier; as the young officer produced
the crciss.and -attached it to his ftith'er's
breast.
"And now," said the young man, "give
me yoUrland ae:of old, dear lather, and
let me lead you.",
"Whither ?" :
i. `‘ln to
:the saloon • of . the chateau, to
present you .to general Davivier, and hia
guests.", •
.
"What, in my rags ! before all that
kJ:and .company ?".
"Why n9t. , , father ? The ragged uni
forn•,l of a brave . soldier who - - :bears the
cross 'of honor on his breast is the proud
est.decOration in the world.!',
Leading the blind father, young Ber
trand re-entered the saloon he had so
lately left, and went direbtly to the Gen
eral, who was standing surrounded by
his glittering staff:
"General, here is *my. title of nobility,
my father is all the wealth I possess in
this world.",
. .
Tears..ltarted' to the Generari eyes, and
he , !Gook - the Old warmly by the
hand„ Then beckoning to :Julia, he led
.her to Victor„ and . placed her trembling
hand in
.his.. • • . .
•
"Let this dear girl," be said "make
amends for ,my coldness a moment sitce.
A ion so noble hearted -is worthy 'of all
happiness. • •
In a word, Captain, afterward Colonel
Bertrand, married the General's daugh
ter; and the happiness of their fireside
was completed by the constant presence
of the good old soldier, to whose self de
nial Victor owed his., honors and domes
tic bliss.
Rapids:of the St. Lawrence.
"Oh, captain, captam,for heaven's sake
put me on shore 1" This 'Flu the excla=
illation of a Chicago lady of tweet ,five
years, who came' down the Lichine rap !
ids the other morning. She went up with
us on the tram to •Montreal at seven
o'clock, and. came . down -on the little
steamer Aurora, wnich shoots . the Ira-
chine rapids every morging,bringing her
passengers to Montreal in season for
breakfast. There ie not the least possi
ble danger. The little Aurora has been
down these same rapids every summer
,morning for the last six years without`
accident, but there are alwayfi. those who
are alarmed at the. peculiar motion of the
boat ; an:l at the . sight of the big waves
that dash on her broiv, and the ugly
rocks that beset her pathway. Then are
always some, women on , board who see
horrible deats staring them right in the
fac , . The excitement on this morning
was begun
. by a Chicago woman. It was
"so beautiful," she said, as the boat start.
.ed on , the firsedecliue. But she chang !
ed - berluneas she approached the great
white ear."
'"Edward,"she said to her
husband, "I am not going through that
TAaci. I Want you - to -ask the captain
_to
put me on shore." .
"NOnsense, Sate, there ia no danger.—
Keep quiet ; I'll take good care of von."
"You take good care of me ! What
could you do if the boat struck one of
those boulders.? 1, tell you, Edward; I
will, not. go down there, and that,'s the
end of it. Once more, I tell' you, to , ask
the captain to put me on shore.i." l
"Katie, lam ashamed of you. I shall
not ask the captain 'to do ` any'inch
thing." .
Poor Katie began to look seriou&—
mean while the steamer.came nearer and
nearer the tigiq rocks.. 'Suddenly she
started with a rush to the captain, whom
she saw standing at the, wheelhouse.'
"For heaven's sake,. 'captain, put me
on shore." It was 'a frantic 'shout, and
it came to the ears 'of the passengerk, it
alarmed them. They began to look seri
ous too, and . rustied with one accord to
hear the captain's answer. Re could on
ly say : "It- is impossible, madame—
"lmpossible !" shrieked Kate, "impossi
ble! Oh, my God l- I—feel—faint save
me, Edviart., I'
. The words =were no sooner out of her
mouth than the' act, followed. But she
was very unfodunate in the selection of
the plate , where she fainted.. There
chanced 'to be-a tub of fresh raspberries
just b y the wheelhouse—a tub with' a
wide' mouth—in fact, a washtub. IVhat
, possessed Cate to faint. in that tub .oi
raspberries-i 8 more than I Inoti. But
one thing is certain-411e will never, weir
that gray silk dress again. 'Of courie
EdWard was: right on hand, and so was I,
and _so were- half a dozen °them- We
snatched , lCate'ont of the' Ilispberries' in
a twinkling, and• by dint of 'smelling-bot
tles, bucketa of . water, Con tit:atone ' tub
bing, ind.aflood
,9f epdearing : epithets,
manated , to ‘restore heir tol Consciousness,
jokes . - the boat lambed the .14folitold
,wbari, 4 #4„weAt i pKid.:fer thexaapbeiri*
atleu 'cepa quart, $4054 the dross
ypi..,. - 33. - No, :35
was a new one and cost just an eves
$lOO ; a pair of striped Balbriggan hose
- . --very pretty, by the way—was worth
$1,50 ; a lace handkerchief, with an em
broidered-pi/pia in 'one corner, was val
ued at s6,While sundzy other thingS,such
as a pair of ftve-bUtton, kid gloves,
a
light brown , chignon, a very long bustle,
etc., counted up $2O more. All these
things were completely ruined, so that
the exact amount of Kate's faint was
$1.32,50.
Ilunting Story.,
"1 - hear, they're having great goose
hunting now over in - Jersey,' said Mr.
Magruder, in the hoardinglifluse last
nig they ?" said
,Maguffin.hAt
r.
, e
er had much luck shooting-geese."
"I suppose not," said Magruder, com
passionately ; "not
_much used to fire
arms, hey? _I never read about geese: but
I think of a day'seport down en Shinne;•
cock Bay one day last year. k The geese
were flying very .thick, and I took my V
gun, and--" '
"Your V gun ?" interrupted, Mr.
Magian ; "What is a V gun ?"
'You will learn': further on in the nar-
ration," answered . Magruder continuing
his story—" and went down there. One ,
morning we saw coming up' from the
So.uth what I supposed was the biggest
flock of geese that ever flew. They came
along in their usual . way, flying iu a tri
angle, with the leader on the point tow
ard us. 1,g4 a ,fisherman to help hold
the V gun, and Itook aim and let her
go. The charge. just cleaned the wings
off the leader, and then, spread out like
a V, and I am afraid you will scarcely be.
lieve me, , Mr, Maguffin, but it just went
down the inside of each line of birds,and
carried away their inner wings as though
they had been chopped off with a hatch
et. Losing their balance from having
only one wing apiece, they were thrown
violently together by the continual flap-' a ,
ping 'of the outside wings. Every bird
was killed by the shock of the. collisior.,
and they fell to the earth in a line tha t
measured 461 feet. There were just 809
birds ;404 pairs, and' the old head goose
that was the leader.'
I, "Your speaking of long-necked area,-
tures,"• said Mr. Magnffin, calmly,"re-
Minds me of my
,giraffe . hunt in outh
Africa. great sport, giraffe Minting.—
We had one bunter who was such a fast
runner that he would often get clear
ahead of , the party and catch a giraffe all'
by himself. Then he'd take a couple of
turns on the giraffe e. neck around a tree,
and hold him until we came up. One
day I was out alone, and I came across
two tremenduous giraffes together away
from the , woods. I sneaked up behind
them, grabbed them by their heads, and
tied 'em togther up their necks,and there
.1 had 'em !"
"Perhaps • you'll kindly tell us," said
Mr. Itiguffin, "how you got hold of
their heads P . ,
"What! Yon don't mean to tell me, .
Mr. Magruder, that you .don't know 'how
they hunt giraffes ? ,Why, you ignorant
.00n,,giraffe hunter's always wear stilts r
The woman who arrived at the wharf
just aathe excursion boat had a start of
ten feet, didn't comprehend the Bituati4S
for a. moment .She didn't 'know but
that Licata had a habit of striking off and
backing up to keep the machinery frogs
getting, rusty, When she re a lized that
she wsis being left ilhe jabbed a man 'is
thii back'with.her elbow, knocked a hat
off with her parasol, and squealed at the
top'of her voice :.. . , ,
- 4‘llold on; there—yott haven't got me."
"Make a jump I" vareamed one boyer
"Swint for it 1" called out anothei44hili
the "left woman" fierCely. shouted."
1 "Why don't soineof.you . folksnp there
tell the Captain ?" ' • '' ' .
• The people on ihe upper deckrepliid
by laughing . and, , waving their handier
chiefs.. he woman on the wharf retog
,nized,only one . among the Orowd, and
Doiniing hei riarisol diiectly at:her„`stiat
holding it extended. as if taking, aka, she
shouted : ,- , - -
"Yog waut to understand; Mrs. Baker,
that you scan' seVer, never, horfoi. any
more butter or flategrous Of me,,r: `, - ,
The Mother of -Twins In s (taw
The mother of two sons 'net onq of
the lizthers in a field one mbraink:
‘V I 7I/liih of you two boys am I sneak
ing t4?) B aBked the: '
mother ; ?is, it yoa
or your brother:.?" .
"What, do you ask asked. the lad
*prudently.
,?Beeituse if it'a ;hour brother,, I :will
Voilia,ears," answered the motiteiv
""It is rnot brother, it is 1; 7 '144 tha
.• • •
Mori your 6rothor wearlug 'Paw
coat,' for yours hadi
"`No mother, lan wearing Int Ora
o d e r , : - • - r; vi
' r (1 04 V! cried thea
look* $
ati :1410i 4abia t tlx,!ZOtC,4# l ;;liMi
brother;atier
Left Behind.
"I neli-