:',.: , 8y.._,,,itAyi:t.g..y...'---84.,',..:Q,.R.U6a'.F(.
IN BEtA.DO W.
• FAITH WALT ON..
Alas
Alas my:life is is sunless„ gray, and cold ;
The path I journeyed on is rough and steep ;
My shoulders tremble 'neatb my heavy, cross'
Tht sharp stones, cut and bruise my wehrY 'feet.'
If 1 were sure that God aid will it:so,
I'd journey on without a donbt or fear ;
It this pain were the price a my fair,crown;
What would it matter it the way were 'drear
I would not pine if
,all my days were' dark, -
If rest grew near as each one pass.ed. by ;
If Hope—sweet bird,l—did nestle in this heart
What reason would Dia!" tngrieve or sigh! '
Alas 1 1 know—and sad I the knowledge is—
.,That:all this shadow i s Was eent by;God ;.
.Long years ago I choose this path myself ;
I dreamed not in myyouth life could be hard.
Ro tender prayer may I send up to Him,
To lighten; if it be His will, my. load
With naught , to cheer me, must 1 journey on
Until I reach at last Death's grim abode.
,
1'6104 have kept my . way . 'neatly. Summer
skies ' - 1
`And listened to the gladsome song of birds, ',
And roamed at will across the Meadows fair, ,
And Won from friends sweet smiles and loving
,
,
',words..,
But, in my , pride and in my self conceit,
I shut my eyes to what 9,,9d held for me,
And, turning from the meadows i meek and lo w
I strode toward these heights beside the sea.
What doth itrofit me, this wouderus height I
The clouds b_ wme hide the valleys sweet;
i _
Where'er It o these tired eyes
,of mine,
The vie* is cold—no cheering warmth I meet.
Alas ! what might have been had I but heard
God's voice, which bade me dwell in sweet con.
tent ?
If I were bearing but the cross He gave,
With each new triallvould He send me straight.
I've learned at last bow very weak I am ;
Sometimes my tired limbs refuse to stand ;
Perhaps He seeks me, though I see Him not,
And, ere I, die, will reach to mellis hand.
..:A SECOND. WIFE..
•
WHITE and 'silent,, in , the*. cent4e. of
TT the'darksome room , lay the source of.
all the drakness, the subs, the black veils.
"She - looks peaceful, - doesn't she ?" Mur
mured nti aunt• - to a sister who *as drop
ping bitter • tears. "At lastl• at, last!".
The -words 'bounded as if they were
ground' between 'Closed "teeth. •
Mr. Magogic stooped beside the boffin
he was taking I last look' at the face that
had smiled at hiin through a bridal veil,
fifteen years before. •
"Sue hpw moved he looks !" 'whispered
Mrs. 'Bram to her daughter. "Ah I!'
she 'was 'a filch-strung 'creature—not just
tha one to make a . man happs, 7 4--y0 how
attentive and polite he was to her L i There
is not.a better rnan - •in
• "It seems as though he could not - get
away from that coffin," reinlieted: 11. rs„.
Prism to Mrs. Prune. ."011! she was a,
frgh. tempered girl! But they seemed
to-gt-4, on well of late . years. He always
go! her everything she wanted.:, :What a
fine looking man . heir s •
-Just-then °cm:tit-kV - a 'sudden move - -.
wilt. "It is that sister of ifts. Ma--
gdgne, Julia More.' she,qame near faint
ing! hetunnt•tooliter'.Outf!.. - the
113 0 4 , crowd explained to o.cll l : other.,
On tside . "Julie ! Jubei, dOn't• take on.
so, dear.. Here, here—come in here a
minute." Mrs. More,:drew..her niece in
to 'a conservatcir : and - dipping' her haud
kerchief into the tinkling fountain she.
She 'ceased. the•
spasin4io` hand den eh iigs,'::but stillglar=
ed he'r aunt out of hot, dry eyes.
"There, there„cry. now, dean will do
voo gotd," Said her aunt,stillb?..,thing'her
cali!t try, ail n t 3; ; 4 but you did well
to bring,me.qpt,;iti another inemenk - ,f
elP'uld have (4prting 'at .thdt hyrioorde; I
should'have turned him. round 'to
,those
maudlin women. - ,:f 'Should , have, said :
"There is her murderer! 'There is the.
man who swindled her tout , of her
prty ; who broke:Alet'leart and wore put, ,
her life r To hear these women go on
abotit her 'high temper:. llfy-poor.darl="
itig ! 'Wet fit to make him happy!' Ab,
I wish I - 110 the making of him happy
t Jr alittle !" • -17
Svveral maid§, and -widckwB bad a
thimght of the, handsome widower which
E!ted inlo.(he -idetitjeal woidi;f`6uf not
into the gritty accents used by hiS sister-
'dear," pleaded aunt
11)re; "I didn't, hear ,anybody say any
Fneh thing; and I trope` Margaret was as
taS'rhose A.;ives. :At li•ast i :she is
now,, and perhaps the ~peace of
has already washed away the searq
rt c-arth. Do try and compost', yourself,
iet kri,131,14.i,°:
Thei:Went butwe need not 'rot..,
I'AY them into that dusky: atmosphere,
1 ,,,"-vy With, tuberese-.and. beliOstrope, the.
, wf•rsta-,love and death'.
A little over;lyear,,, afterward'', Mr.
Burt l'lttgogne'inight have been Sep bidr,,
',ling a reverOt godd night to 'cberiib
lace, at the door of a charming country
MEE
house. Stepping,baek into hie carriage.
he notioei a friend waiting for the horse
car.
"Come with • me; Ross ?'.
"Thanks.! you're ' a good fellow, Ma
gogue."
As the coachman drove back to the
city; Mr:Ross remarked
.s
"This , opera going is costly business to
a pour devil, if the lady lives.m-the coun
try, especially it it 'rains ; but you ate
not a poor devil."
Magogue laughed', "I don't care what
I spend in the campaign, so I come out
victor."
"Then you have'begun a campaign in
earnest have you'?"
"You're right."
is
.4 -
"Dear *me I Whi c h one the besieged?
Miss Erminia ? she - has fine, dark gray
eyes like—like youi wife."
"I know. It is not Miss Erminia." •
.."Miss Helene?: - She is an accomplished,
bandsome girl.", •
"Too accomplished ; she has too many
opinions of her own. I've had enough
of that."
"You want an .echo ?"
"Well, if' you like to
put it so, I do
want an echo. I want a little, artless,
affectionate, docilerSort of wo
man... I am going in for Miss Effie."
"Miss Effie ! Why, she's hardly out of
school."
"Hardly. I know what I Want."
"She would scarcely be pinch of a com
panion." ,
"f don't want a companion." '4
"But she is a dear little thing to pet—
sweet, timid eyes, quivering lips—you
can't speak to her but the color rises in
her lace. What flossy, flaxen curls she
has ? On the whole why don't you get a
Skye terrier ?"
"I know what I want," -repeated Ma
gogue, a dark smile on his fine features.
Presently a new engagement enlivened
the Roseville tea table.
""SO soon r sighed Miss Prune.
"Soon ?" echoed her brother, "why,
his .wife has, been dead a :year ; she
wouldn't be, any more„dead : if lie waited
three." .
"Sq childish !" said Mrs., P;ism.
"That's just what he wants," said Mr.
Prism, "a sweet, little, clinging, docile
thing."
"Au echo ?" •
"Yes, an echo. I guess he had enough
of independent opinion •in his first wife,
if the truth were known." '
to handsome he is, -fascinating and so
rich," said Mra. Shrimps. "It is a tine
thing for .Eifie Keene, youngest of the
three."
"His first wife had. a good deal of
money," said' Mr. Shrimps. "I've heard
say that he kept her pretty short,
though." .
"Of her own money?" asked Mrs.
Shrimps.
"My dear, after she married him .it
NV aEi her husband's money.. I • think she
was inclined to. be extravagant. A high
spirited. self willed thing ahe was as Mar
garet-ldoor. I didn't think they were
very congenial.; and. I am afraid this is
not going to be any better—a sweet,
pretty, babyish thing—and probably
spoilt."
Julie Moor saw her brother-in law one
day. He was in: a jeweler's store, gently
fitting a gold ring upon an elfin finger.
All. Julie knew of her sister's unhappi
,ness she knew by a ' blind, certain in
stinct ; the scene before her caused an
intolerable 'pang of reminiscence. "Then
she glanced again at the slight little fig
ure, the sweet-eyed, cherub face, and the
tall, dark form bending over them.
Pity devoured her heart. "Poor child
poor child!" , • .
And old nurse, who had reared all the
:Keene uhildren, watched the pair saunter-,
up tne steps that night.
d_Bh 1 a One handsome, man he is; and
:bow skeet; to tier' :But he'd better hive
taken Miss'Erminiahr Mies Helen. , fbor.
Mrs Magoguel"
But Mr. Magogue bad found - exactly
/what he wanted at last.: When. he tried
to explain-to her that Tilden,. presiden
!tat candidate, had never been mited'tip
with 'Mr: Beecher's ;affairs, but• was "the
than ,who, more than any other, man in
the 0 - mitt ry, represents"— how "sweetly:
she shook her flaxen curial
"Doie,t, try to put all that into my-poor
little head. Which man are you for ?",
cfrrilden." - •
~~Then I'm for Tilden,"
This was 'delightful' , to a man► who re-,
member seeing, his first' wife,:whetian
erratic child, • weeping passionately be
'Cape- Buchanan. was. elected ..instead of
Fremont. • . ,
Mr. Magegue considered it unfeminine
for women to intfrest : theinselves in poli
*tics. To be sure -the fair child; Francis
Galsinghain: first attracted her knightly
lover by her intense intere‘S in:a certain
phase of polities. Mit then' her lover
was not_Burt. Magogue, ..but Philip Syd
,,
ney.
MN" Magogue ~and :Miss Effie .Zeene
were to be, married iitthe'rtipring. S..veet
scarcely*alie up - herminotto
leave the country where she. bad. been
reared, where all her friende lived, and
MONTROSE, P.A:\., NQV.• 8, 1876.
go to live in the city, which suited Mr.
Magogue's business.
"We, will go away on our tour, my pet,"
said Magogoe, at one of their 'last part
ings under, the stars.'‘!When` we come
back you can make up your mind." .The
smile that adorned his featuies after his
back was turned was not one which his
bride elect would have recognized. Her
predecessor knew. it well. , .
On the tour she, was all siveetness,
gaiety and grace.'. Coming back they
stopped at her father's. The next-mOrn
ing Mr.Magogue addressed'- Effie
"Dearest,
.you know I
_would like to
consult your wishes in this as in every
thing; but , my business requires that we
should live in the city."
"Does it truly, dear ?" rolling' up her
sky-blue eyes ; but how \bad that is, for
you know my health will- not . stand the
city."
Mr. Magogue's brow darkened.
**"You know," said MS bride, - . sinking
upon a cushion, rolling her flossy head
upon his knee, "how I would love to live
in the city, so as to suit you, but you see
I should die there. . You don't want me
to die, do you ? So -if you really can't
live in the country, 'I shall have to stay
at papa's, shall I not ? But you'll come
out and see me, won't you And she
rolled up the . long-lashed eyes.
He was angry, baffled, bamboozled, but
he stooped and
_kissed her. He hired a
pretty house in the country.. As liv
ing at lif , r father's—not for him ! How
could he , be master in his own house,
there ?- -
But he was not quite satisfied. He
had a vague sense that 'he was' not 'hay
ine his own way; he scarcely knew why.
To his first wife he had handed out her
own Toney discreetly ; from her he bad
required, a strict account of every cent.
But this was Euch a childish creature.!
He would teach her, though, in time ;
there was no doubt of that. ,
.Was that she in . that jeweler's shop ?
ithpossible ! But it was his Effie, arid - tsie
jeweler was just hai4ng her a boy. She
caught sight of het husband's excised
eyes ; She skipped . toward him at the
door. .
"0, look here, dear ! '
She held him thi4
,box ; on the.
white satin' sparkled a moss-of alternat-,
lug sapphire and diamond.
"'Effie] I•told you could not . -affid
that •
. .
"Oh, don't look - at me like that !" she
pleaded, shrinking; rolling up. her lips.
"I know you said you could potiafford it ;
So
.I borrowed the .money of cousin
Charles; he said he would .as soon lend
to one as not. For these sapphires, I
'must have them ; they just match. , - my
eyes ; they. belong to me; see ?" Witb
such -a smile.
But Magogue could have kicked him
self for smiling bark at her as he did;
but what was he to do with such a child?
Thinking it over, he began to see that
he Was,heing cajoled ; he, Burt Magogue.
He must put a stop to this,; it was time
he came out in a new character, or men
W6U Id call him doting. "Cousin Charles,"
indeed ! Where was he drifting ?
A flay or two afterward Mr.- Magogne
was riding home' in an nupronising hu
mor. Some of that first wife's money,
very wisely - invested, he thought, had
just Emil,: out of sight Wand reach.
This' annoyed him. Ile was a man
who needed a good deal of money.
None of your goody gondy. two cent fel
lows was he. The long, dull, country ride
annoyed him. What a fool tie had been to
give m to her about ifl the country.
"She, must have a leSion, he said, shade
ing his head, grasping his whip, and
touching up his gray.' hoise. Another
turO brought him -round into the broad
elm-arched avenue that led to his door.
Arrii'ing there, what does he - see?,
A groom with two horses; or.e'beau
tiful, snovv-white," bearina -a lady's; new
saddle:'' 4
Burt Makogue sprang up the steps ; le
crossed the piazza, At. , a ; stride,, . the hall
at another; he tdoki:d - in= at the an te
root," door. A lady ..was glar f oing at `the
long Mirror; a petite lady, smiling at the
- petite double in,,tiry. blae.,iicling habit
witivailimi bifttiiiis; navytilm - Nielyet hat
with ostrich`plathe,- a flame c' goranituii.
at her throat, a silver moulted ~ r iding
*hip in her :little hand. ' • ',:' .-s - ,
",'What doesalt,this mean, madam ?"
shouted the'llov t er of Roseville chivalry
She - tune:l.round, bowed,:' Walked - tip
'to' him. ,
"What,did you -say : to - ii,ie . ;; sir,r,she
asked'Oraciously,, •
"I asked, what ' you metin,-by_ this?"'
She laugbpd 4 silvery ,Siugh,. ."011 !
Why it Means that I am going out to
ride. .1 like riding.. CousiqChittles wept
with, me yesterday to 100 - at a horse.
He sqs be is a Splendid f loiv i and you
See how 'handsome he is. ,Ther bill, ior
him 10'111 conie.to-morrow, i Don't 1 rook
nice, dear?":- . ', ! ..-: , ...
Re
.clenched.the whip.atill in hi s hand,
' 4 l'll pay no bills tor, any,borie,;,thaCis
going back where 'he COO' from—svith
the , grcom:- Atulloirs - ola
j am—vfalk ap
otairs,take off that gear,, anifir - pirt'Oli
something decent, and theC come down
to me." - f
She looked up at:him, lips apart. from
under the curled, navy blue: rim of her
riding hat ; then clapped her tiny hands
and burst into Sweet peals .of cherub
laughter. •
" adam, are you mad ? DO, you think
you•edn behave like this? -You didn't
.know my first wife, she's dead." He
epoke in an ominous tone that lowere4
the 'colot Effic4.;'roundeii cheek .;• her
,lips curled back like those _Of a child
when fi rst - confronting some strange Un
pleasant lanimal. ' -
Burt Magogue . Went on : "She was a
spirited, high-tempered thing, but I
brought her down. Would you like to
'know how I brought her down ?"
"Yes—l should," she answered with
that curious, fear t less glance, just touched
with something.; that might have been`
dismay had it not been more like scorn.
"How did you do it ?"
"I conquered her—with the lash l"
Little Effie shuddered and looked down.
Her delicate face was working with hor
ror, with pity for her predecessor, with
terror for the gulf suddenly opened at her
feet. swarming - with the misbegotten
wiougs that follow the meeting of ir
responsible power and weakness. Or was
it only terror for herself, hopeless in the
power of her natural protector, lowering
over her in , his vast superiority of, physi
cal strength ? He wished:she could IJok
up ; these baby faces can be as baffling
as the timeless brows of Sphynx. - At
last those golden lashee, lifted . ; the timid
eyes rose up and up, until they met his ;
they gave him a disagreeable sensation;
he would revenge it upon her some day—
though she was almost too pretty to be
crushed. ;
"You did—did. you ?." .She had taken
in: his -remark, it seemed,. Then. she
Walked Up to him., clenched her fist to .
the.size s ofa magnolia bud, and fixed hirri
with eyes.whose -cherub blue:Was lost in
a glitter, like baynots in the sun.
:"Well—if you ever: lay—sh. much 'as
your least-finger's . -Weight' on me—don't
you ever shut your• eyes again, for . the
first time I find you asleep- I'll cut yotir
throat from ear to ear.. So . .hear me - every.
saint in heaven 1" - . - " -
ShC turned at the door and flung back
a laugh ; is your second wife I"
With this' echo she left hitt.
A horrible sensation clutched Burt Ma:;
- gogue.. He fought it as if it . Were. oar- alysis. What wail it ?, And- what tping,
was this that he had married-thtimock
ing, spirit-like. thing- whom he could not
terrify'? ., He kneW all ;about . .. womenwomen—
yes, the bravest of them ; -flighty,Trovok
ing, but nervous ;,"naturally subject to
fears;.') docile as sheep to one who show-.
.ed them a little resolution. What man
ner of woman was this He • turned
quickly at a sound without. There she was
mounting.-that snow-white
. pteed, and
there was nothing _reassuring. ,in the
smile she flashed, him ere she-,-whirled off
in a night-cloud of draperies. Was she
some witch sent .by Hecate, !queen
.of
night arid; of the dead ? Burt Magogue
believed pist ; as much in one
.religion as
he. did in : another ; you 'see 'mortal flesh
and blood it could -'not . be that bad threat
ened him with Effie lieene's soft
and trails-fixed him' with herliquid eyes..
()oak{ it be. same unsleeping ghost arisen,
taking. ..poSseision of - a' sweet. *fan:film
shape ! • Faugh I. why had • he ever read
those uncoth horrors' 'of lloffman and
'heck and Edgar Poe ? * _* * *
Burt- Magogue - has:. always - defied the.
supernatural. Can _a shadow of
.keepit keep
so doeile as he is' to his.elfin wife ?
Why; the liten. growl -he* And then':
-"He is getting to. be the - mere echo of his
iechcv."' • •
. -
'They.used to makefun of him at the
office. He was a queer,old fellow with .:a
lolem facer, an& : what ,we tbnught,wai
ridiculously polite ways. ; He would take
off his Chat when he ; came in,.and
"Good morning, gentlemen. I trust
iee , you allin:goodlealth
- And some of the.4oys,wculd nod—and,
soMe wouldn't do anything brit,lsnever
ootild help stP,nding, up and 13owing; per
haps. because : knew that lny.,_mother
wotild have said L ought. to do-it.; ,;:
-:To be sure, be was, onlyr.on salary like
ourselves,: but ,hail been.,at.
twenty-live. years, aneyoung, fel--
lowa had come and gone,,;and there be.
And, yon see, it was gentlemanly:of
Min, I said ; and if he was a little crea
ture; with a ; queer ..11410.;-wk, '' l ol3r he
looked botnething like a gentleman,. too,
rgaid office`to •Merrivale, next'to mine.;
'well—l. didn't try it . -
'You see, - Merriyale IT was. to
thing; draiSed'O'figaritly, sneend every,.;
thing, almost, and I'd cOii*filink4cionti 7
try town and hee. Was city Man. •
.Nehody down: on "0Id• Purrps" as he
wai, especiallY's tiftei he 'Made ut:that
speech abbut`Ouecondtict to the i ladies.
Dumps made , the - speech, ` . 'yon know;'
Mid it was Aferriiatk WhO'
lady only came in to rook it Ilui;
I'm sure she really wanted to know the
way to the street abe - 'asked for; and how
_LLsT . jA
,VQ . L., : ' : - ,43,,N.0.46
she colored and-hurried out!
And Dumps with his brown wig, look
ed to me like the gentleman that day;
and 'Merrivale with his fine curling bar
and blaek moutanche and
. broad shoul
ders, like a puppy. -
"The man who. calls a blush to. the
Cheek Of a good woman by look or time
-must have. forgotten his mother," said'
Old Dumps. "When that • lady asked
you a civil question, she relied on her be.
lief that you were 'a gentleman, Mr.
Merrivale. When you , answered , her as
.yoti did, and spoke of her as' you did; any
one could read your' insulting. thoughts,
Mr,. Merrivale; and you did not even rise.
front your seak'sir. You proved that she
wait very much mistaken." -
"Mean to, say-l. am no gentlemanr?'!
said Merrivale.
"Inth is instance, 'sir," said Old Duaip&,
"You certainly have net Conducted your
self as one should."
Merrivale pulled his coat half off,. and
pulled it on again. -
"Pshaw,' , said he; "he knows he's safe.
Ther'd be no fun 'in knocking down an
old bitof bcneslike that. I could do it.
with my little finger. But you attend to
your own business, Old Dumps I can, be
have myself without your 'advice, and
that ain't the first woman that's come in
just for a sort of flirtation. I'm used to
that sort of thing, I am."
"Mr. Dumps is right this time," said!.
:"Bah !" said Merrivale. "You're from
the country."
"Thnnk heaven for it then, my young
friend," said Dumps, and sat down.
After that Merrivale was never even
half way civil to Dumps, and the boys
followed Merrivale's lead. But I liked
the old fellew. When we met in the
street I'd take off• my hat and shake
hands, and _say some of those polite
things that mother used to teach 'me to
say. And . I wrote of him to mother. and
she said she was glad that 'her boy knew
wl at was due to .a 'good old gentleman.
But after 'all, in the office, you know
what the boys thought and said had its
influence.
Who were: the boVs ? Why, there wait,'
Merrivale, with his - - darling airs, and hit
way of letting You know be was a favor
ite with the women, r".
And Carberry, who didn't .care abut
a.nd knew the - city.
And Stover, who used. to .come with'
red eyes and headaches, and 'boast that
he'd been making a night of it.
I Was lonely enough in .tho great city
- and I should, have liked to have joined
company with. 'Dumps and walk hou r
with him from church sometimes, but I
was afraid of meeting one of- the boys,
and I never • did. But I. would bow to
him, and we took our, hats off to Kick
other always.
Sometimes, When I, lived 'at Haredale
with mother, I've seen the sky beautiful
and blue one honr,and the; next black with,
~the: clouds of a thurder stortn. Just ,
that way 'my trouble mine to me—an
awful trouble—such as I could not have
dreamt of.
I had written to. my mii'ther that I was
doing well and liked n# husines, and
- would be down to- see 'her on Sunday,
when I was sent fortp
g o into the inner .
office ;' and there-4, can't go thregrih
With it—l can't even remember details ; ,
:but I was charged 'with being a thief.
You'd 'have to understand our particu
lar btianess, as' well as bookkeeping, to
knoW how I wairaupposed to' have done
is ; butihey believed I had robbed them
of one himdred pounds: 1,
. They tirgei me` Ito Confess. I was.
innocent, and I said ao. Then they tohl
me they did not wish to be bard on me..
I was`young. ; ' - The;.city was bad place: .
for boys. 'They would be merciful, and,
only distriiiit' rink' without 'reecommendit-
Wu! eniildefiy ltad'no erect.' Tiey
proved ' :me - ''groity ,before they', as
ctised me 'then. - said ,aiidt- at last
staggered otit into' the 'office. The boys '
.
were 'getting' ready to =go I !ally
they knew what had; happened:
"None- of yoii' believed .this Ms;
said "None of you ,- Wh'ci IknOW tne
And Mei ri ilk , Said - "• ",''
"Look here,'.Forreafir l y O u're !tow
to get - Off so." -"' ''•'• '•
And 'Carbeirjriaid
too'.' •
fopled. always youi,-:sty , boots-of
good Toting man .that do'ery theieioit of
things?' • 1
,And Grab said ' •
"I pit, Porrestet,don't talk too much
you'll 'give yourself :away. a"
And:Stoyer Said
"oh, go. take' '11, 3 glass , of'-brandy• 'add.
water, and don't' go' on like sr girl about
it. -
And what with shame ; and rage, and
grief; I could haVe died ; when.ont of his
'duels corner came little Old Damps, ht
his *little. snutrtoloreVcoVereetit, and
"Mr, Forrester,'"-he , i trfe.;svattib.
ed 'you 'over since- you've , been: .hpre.,:. I.
knbw What you ore:. .1 . 031 are incapable
`ofa dishonest aot, and, „what is morn I
well prove it beto*.l,„feet. The man
'Who reapeeteothits - ilivait.
self. The Ull4ll tvlfo honors his mother
EC/imagism' on Aga Pageq
HUE
(i i ..