Ilia
iII3LIN Sz SLOAN, PUBLISHERS.
'OLDIE 26.
I,btit.ct Voetrg.
OLD HONES
EZIMI=I
,ar the way at a cottage gray,
bereehohl with vase powo over;
~t lunde the door, to the broken floor,
tK rv an blades of antrorlden clover
..o v f i• all brown and broken, and down
tbe chinas the soh sunlight stealing,
wee all tbe day o'er the old oaken door,
kt ,d re.ls on tbe faded ceiling.
leaves dumb theerumbling eavet
the old roof tenderly trailing.
~,t..riorn looking fed•eli of old garden d el .*,
thrones the rickety railing.
• ,t,, D ',op sweet o'er tbr threshold seat,
the plea.sata flitatper aelither
hr bum bird and i.e,e in the ~ 1.1 homestead tree,
we Willi , all tlaay tog-ether.
,side the low Willi Or n.. plea.ant GA.( fitt
3 ;Dr h..arth•tooe a. cold arc.l ar,try
ale :rot that met hare [or many a year.
leag ago grew weary
1 , if.ni early away where eternal day
, vi,th glory the temple golden,
ut light never on mortal sight
ni ., livened eine* the aces olden
down "sleet, io t he fat 11,416.44 deep,
lir ',ere tide* NH uldttriLlKly ..%er.
in the strife weeneome lite,
the earth har. been long a rover.
Mme hr ITOWT) rilly.llllo is eru i g sway
%re int,. it cret-ping,
1 ,, 2 , 0 ,0,0%,grvwn roil, round tile Li e‘r‘hotons nld,
Ito< been long end wearily NI •~ping
^0 malted, uncurl...l, perpeth unditeturbed
7'iriu4h thw ipening% hero snit there,
with gold the dark green would
!nick ”1 the "01,1 ..rui •hair
}leaven that aln.ve we •hall 11. e •tn I I..ve
- 111 ,, 0e that •ball
ot, more depart the I ~t e.t.a our heart,
ir ,, m the I. me that is home r0t...6 us'
o:lleict PisteHann.
From Howell.)ld
OTHER AND STEP-MOTHER.
=I
eIIAPTFIR \t
rat a brOit morning; tile sky was cloud
.m.l the genial west wind sweeping over thy•
msped with hoar frost, seemed to denote
lam of spring In some sheltered nooks
rtt schen ne well knew,the violets were already
and .ate was returning from an early
with a small bunch of prociotts
crs. When Edward came bounding along to
.t bet now followed, now preceded by his fa
rr sand, had caught the joyousness of
abtet's spirit, arid emulated his activity
od news, Kitty!" he cried, a, soon as she
within earshot. "Good new , , little sister;
•• will you give me for my news.'"
live you got your pony!" asked Kate in
retortod lidward,searrifully. "Don't
you it's great news—news for you, my
a, , :`" and be flung his anus about her and
her
!Fe was a fluttering motion at Kitty's heart;
, 101* left her cheeks, and she looked at him
ling
;11, why don't you guess? Why don't you
or cry, or do something, Kitty!' You
:t look worse if I had said the news was
Come, haven't you a bit of Pandora's eu
' Must I take my glorious news home
because you won't give the lea...t touvh to
:now you are going to see Frank," saiil
tremulously. "Lady Irwin told we about
morning." . _
uit's not it I;uess again? But there,
tirture you, dear. Strange, it,
that a Elsa of taste like Frank, shouldu't,
I.chst's your news Edward, I had a shrewd
' , fit before.'
Wby, of course yon had, when he began at
'T of the sheet with, 0! how am I to exist
.ze day without you! and en,1.41.at the bot•
f the fourth side with-1 feel convinced 1
• -ipire if .1 don't gee you to-morrow—all
glie4 writtsm close and cros,ed, and all to
e tune '
n are a fancy boy, Edward, and want to
:e me to mhow you Frank's letter 4
well enough he never crosses thern, - and
there n. often room for a great deal more
he GoApe "
Tith 'fours till death, eternally and for
Well, I'm sure, I don't know what a love
Is like, and don't suppose I ever shall.
• say Frank's letters are just what they
be, or that you think them ao—which is
•ts good; but I can tell you, you are not
y k , have any more of then ju,t at present,
.u'd better make the most of what you have
...tt you Mad Tom to your father's old cob,
won't write to you for a mmth to come."
me they heard from him at the Hall,
fetid Kate, bewildered
es, truly, have they. In a tu o.t a nbAt a ntial
' has he forced on their astounded minds
that he has a good stout will of hi.' own,
t he has no idea of being sent out of the
it people may worry his little bride out
Itty looks. tell you what, Kitty,
au% great deal more spirit than 1 ever
Lai credit for You ought to be proud of
He hue done the very thing I should have
t myself:"
'P.m what has he done?" cried Catherine,
ty.
you're coming up at last, are you, like a
'tittle of ale when it is held to the fire?-
0 sweet Kitty, that your future lord has
imself a fine fellow, and won't be hood
by my reverend and incomprehensible
, sad that I came off this morning to im
you the intelligence, that he came home
t, to the confusion of his enemies, the
of his affectionate father, and hie devoted
and of his bitumin. bride. But I say,
ithit's the matter? Kitty, I say, dear Kit
4"°'t be a little fool, please, dear!"
14 t abrupt announcement of the return of her
\ so sudden, so unlooked fur, was in
, moth for Hatherine's strength, enfee
she mu by long separation, and by the
siekness of hope defferred; she would
!lee had not the boy caught her in his
lie bore her with difficulty to the blink
.• of the road, and was running to seek
when Ilia brother, whose impatience
become tmeontrollable, and who had wau•
thus far in search of his betrothed, came
little water, brought front a ag.:lghErlring
tlb Edward's cap, and d u l le d ou Cathie
fate, aided in reviving her, the s%ht of
bending ever her with a I,,,,,,k o (earmo s t
did more. He folded her in his arm,
the troubled past seemed to vanish like a
or only to be remembered to inunisfy the
of vounion.
Mr a bag si lsas.. jam hißai l hige
ERIE' 11 - - ' EEKLY7OBSERVER
genial rain, and a joy so solemn, that they held
their breath as they stood locked hand in hand
beneath the arch of the spring heavens
Wbeo the first rapture of their meeting was
over, Catherine's anxious eyes detected marks of
uocoutrollable suffering in her lover's counte
nance!. His eyes, which looked larger and bright
er than they were wont to look, were circled with
black rings, his hands were pareh..d, and' the
bronzed hue of his complexion '0).1 t itigur
and exposure rather than of health
The imprudence with whiefi he had aeted
too evident. The marsh fever was still hangoof
about him when he set out on his hasty journey
The excitement produced by Edward's letier.
which confirmed hi• worst roars, had rendcred
him for the time superior and insen•ible
to lu
bodily infirmity A troubled night, hardly v 1.4-
ted by rare snatches of sleep, at 13.41; brought the
morning, when he was once again to see her,
made so much dearer by absence and t y .11)rr: iw,
born.. for hi- saki. The cold water with which he
bathed his buruingtemplesstilledthe,r thr Ving
for awhile; the fresh air, and the ne.ir I,op , o
seeing his beloo.l, deadened the aching of hi.
limbs and the fever in his throat; but now that
the first joy of meeting was over, that be had
held her in hie arms, and felt her still All bi
own, he wa. 01.41;;.red 14) utecumb to the 13,4s1tode
th a t oppr e Q4oui him, and to acknowledge the too
evident fact that he was not well
lie returned home in the hope that a few hours'
rest 'night restore him; hut Nature is a stern
avenzer, and exacts a heavy Gue foroverataxed or
abused powers 'flu, excitement and disquietude
in which he had lived for the last eighteen months
had gradually undermined his vtgoraiii, consti
tution. The unexpressed displeasure of hi, stali•
mother weighed upon Its heart with a foradmilitrz
which detiued ail hi:, efforts to shake it oti, ,anal
tilled him with vague and paralsiinr .dariu 1 ) 14-
ring the first few mouths ut his ra sid au...• a h r 0,,.1
the variety of interests which crowded up an Lon
had distracted Ins uttenteau; 4 Jotters,
Full of hopefill tendert:in—, quieted his anxiety
on her aeeolint, while Lady Irvin hair If, i sirs
ed by her alasenee, wrote with e ,
with affection But when the novelty of f . relini
life began to wear off, when Lady Irwin bad re
turned to Swallowtiaqd, and, irritota al lay Carlee
rice's troo/era prescne,•, and L t the ofloetiou
with which Sir Edward treated her. either veils
ed to write to the trave'er, or wort.• only letter
s.) hard and dry, that the effort tilo.. ost
was too palpable to be mistaken; won i
rine's depression became evident in ot L r
attempted cheerfulness; Frank's 111
spirit gave way, and be began to siteei.oda to lb
efrects of the climate, which, tr:, t
many English constitutions, d I teat nit , him,
and neglected sitelt precantionaais nuazlit, per
trips, have preserved him in health qu 1 111'1'
Lim to it
So, now the fever which had been rii..1.P41.
flew to the head; the overtaxe , l brain ecas, , ,l to
fliseharge its healthy office; his ravings were
wild and incessant; his heart treill•les novo ,
themselves up lueougruously with se, ries f ,r
eigu adv, nture; he called often awl pit. oa•! .)
the name of the beloved, who seentA his
tempred fancy to be in tearful tlaner• tv,th
wild supplication or stormy ni ,, n.ince I,e . '1•71/1
to protect her from a powerful but unnamed
enemy The whole lotus, hold was tilled with
consternation Sir I.:4watt' stood ganna on lo
lwry vacant eyes within anguish to • hi; for tear-
Posit Edward ran vainly to anti fro, o c , rwie
cu
ing himself with reproaches for the I, ,, edless nutti
ness with which he ht.! c.unetuni.•if, ,u..-
t.. his brother l'Atherin.•. p tie in , l tr• to
ulous,erept from the l'ars..ultge t.. 111 , 11 in, ,k
-ing fir tidiii she dare tit ask f.r. r
woe.begone countenance and eager tearless eyes,
were not the least grievous sight to all tit,
griev •us d tys Sir Edward meeting her, lost
the recollection of his own sorrow, and wept t 1
the p •or ehild who had n,l tears lir her-.
Strange and strong was the e..uilict
Irwin's feeling montont when th. tr
wish of her heart would Is• grafi IA .1 , I
have arrived; the life which stood betwt, a her
and the inheritance was ilutterintf on th,
of et, tufty. Agnesse did not fail to off:r con
grattilations,and with her dark pupils il , steit.titi ; : to
sugg, st that a slight mistake in the gi%inz ~f
portion might make that certain whie'l wt•
ready probable Lady Irwin rejected ti• • -ti L f
ges t t o n h indignation, and devoted herself wi..,
energy to the care ,it the sufferer; she shrunk
from the presence of her confidante, and it
chance they met, she hurried by her as it she
had been sonic venomous ereature• above all. she
sedulously guarded the approach to Ow k
man's chamber, gave hint medicines herself, •ind
adtntnistering nothing without previously sub
jecting it to a careful esamination
Abe stoned insensible to fatigue Hour after
hour, day after day, she went to and fro in tli
sick raoin, with pale, set C•atlirrq, once arting
and,. strong cxei•etnent, or afraid t.. breAk
spell She hardly spoke, either in aitsw•r t,, the
grateful thanks of her busbaud, or to ill, p i s
sionate caresses of her sou; but one ,lay , Vk
Catherine creps to her, and kissed her baud to to.
ken of the gratitude she could not spcak, Lois'
Irwin stopped as she was traversing the corridor,
and Lending her head, pressed her lip, on tbe
brow of the trembling girl
"l'oor child," she said, "go and pray, and
if that will comfort. thee "
It was at the time when the fever was at it.
height; the,Doetors, of whom two had been felk-h
-ed from London, hal almost given up hope.
The patient's stretight seemed exhausted; he lay
motionless, almost lifeless; his nervous hands
were wan and passive, or couvulhed by feeble
twitteringq; the wavy hair, which used to fall in
sueli comely-masses about his face, vrtts all gone;
his manly beauty withered like the leaves in au
,
tumu.
11' ho can tell what were Lily Irwin's though t. 4
she sat through these long nights and days by
the wreck of him whom she had taught herself
by slow degrees to regard as the enemy of her
son.' Who can tell how much of her old tender
ness to the fair motherless boy returned; how
the helplessness of the suffering 111,111 recalled di. ,
weakness and dependence of the chill; bow it; •
fever parched tills awakened nienwries of tile
sweet firm lips that had so often pres.sel I, r .
and the joyous love of the child's , ;11
Prostrate—help',o.,—there was nothing auta ! ,,, -
nistic there. Helen Irwin was of a temper ,
lofty to war with the powerless.
After a long time there came a dawn of hop •
Tb, youthful constitution, the careful tending,
the e.trno.it prayers, prevailed, and Death roles
e. I a l)iep thankfolness ant .11 it LA I. j.l)
SUCCiVtit)/i to despair in Catherine's heart.
Edward Caine out of his study and walked again
among his trees; Kinard scampered liver hill
and dale, to wine the spirit of his horse, wanton
with too long idleness. The crisis was past.;—
Frank would rixxiver—slowly, tediously—but he
woakl recover.
With the, d%nger, Lady Irwin's care oeased.
No boozier &a he open his eyes upon her, anima
ted by intelligence; so sooner did health bring
ing sleep return to him than she withdrew from
his chamber, leaving him to the attendance of
the hired oases, sad only paying occasionsl vis
it.% to his roots, whisk became shroter and rarer
hs programod in his reamer:. His oonmiles
ones was Wines and "Alimony lets
and hindrances, nil* frequent
suffering; bat arhstorsat nil, 1
afford to sliwriato 4 met nr remove the other
was wed ansfasinikr i a 111•04111 ot los 404.
dened huq. Catherine seemed to have loot all
recollection of her own worn health and spirits
iu the necessity for encouraging and strengthen
ing him. Fall of gratitude for the great mercy
vouchsafed to her in his preservation, her joy
tuanifeatel itself in a sweet and innocent gaiety
—a cheerful lovingness of spirit, that stied sun
shine over the life of her betrothed, and helped
in more than anything else to the reoovery of
In. strength. Her gratitude to Lady Irwin was
s , warm that it overcame the dread she had been
itectistomed to feel in her presence; and though
Lilly Irwin was still cold and stately in bet man
ner towards her, Catherine had won something
Ilpon her regard. She could no longer look up
tior as a being without passion; the feeling
-Ike I ul shown was unmistakable, and just of the
kool whieh Lady Irwin could appreciate. Loud
I.llocutations or stormy grief she would have des
pised; but she sympathised with the stony agony
of her counteranoe and her voiceless despair.—
Sho could no longer think her impassive or com
monplace. She might hate, but she oould not
now despire her.
Ifor mind at that period was in a struggling,
combatting, fluctuating condition. Agnate re
venged her late slight by almost unbroken ail
cure, which Lady Irwin, too proud to make eon
ms, repaid with haughty contempt. Sir
Edward charmed out of all suspicion by the ex
traordinary devotion of her attendance on nis
son, had returned to something like alover's ten
d mess. It seemed almost as if the evil thought
winch had long nestled in the depths of her heart
mi.dit be crushed—perhaps, but for the Italian
woman it might have been. But Satan little
I,.‘e. to ittit a tenament in which he has been
vielconwki and cherished; and evil acts are the
I.ozitiuiate offspring of evil thoughts.
eIIAPTIER "II
It way Yotne two montha Hint* the favorable
turn had taken place, and Frank had begun to
am.Lnd, when, coming home from hia natal even
•troll to the Parsonage, he met hia father
his ehrar, under the lime -trees, by the
riv,r side
-Well, my 61," .aid Sir Edward, "you don't
1... k very brilliant yet. A month or so in De
vonshire would set you up nicely."
-Indeed, hir, I am perfectly well," returned
in alarm. "The evening is unusually
warn), mid we walked a little too far. 1 hope
you are not thinking of sending me away again
to tell you the truth, I've been hatch
toe a little plan that I don't think you'll object
1 , 41 know there is a small estate in Devon
•, which belonged to your mother. The
lio 1-, is not mu.th more than a cottage, but it is
v. ry pretty and compact. Captain Martin, who
hi. rented it fur those fifteen years, has'been for
-.alto time in failing health; sod I have this
evening received intimation of his death. As I
=Apposed probable, his widow does not wish to
continuo my tenant; and it has occurred to me
t if the house were brightened up a little—
t". ‘..ry pretty, and the scenery about it splen
dt,l---it !night not be so bad for you and Kitty,
a year or two, till my shoes are ready for
y•qi T ut-would make everything smooth. Not
that I w.int to send you away, my dear fellow,
tiod knows the house will be dull enough with
ut v , .0 both!"
•• W.; cannot expect you to make such a mari
ne,. fin- u., sir," said Frank, his cheek glowing
aith surprise and pleasure.
•4 I. Imo w dubs, tam isaawa may of gra sib,
t,r property was your mother's- so it is a
matt; rof mere justice. My idea is, t hat if I al-
J ou three hundred 4 year, you may, manage
to it‘e quietly down there. The estate, itself is
not unproductive, and might be improved if any
in,. were resident upon it wiaoyould undertake to
•tuly a,:riculture as a science. So much is do
in that way now, that extraordinary obstiaa
o•N -mil stupidity may soon ceaw to be regarded
u. ee-sury qualifications fur a farmer."
'Fhb. .ehione had been maturing for some time
Elward's mind. The anxiety he bad en
dured during his son's illness, and during his
radii r -14,w recovery, bad determined him to ex
pedite a marriage which he saw to be indispensa,
1., his happiness. It had been his purpose
t ciitutuouieate his project to his wife, and to
ibtain her concurrence before mentioning it to
but coming unexpectedly on Frank just
when It , ' 11311 received intelligence of the removal
..f tbe iinly obstacle that stood in his way, he
ha l N io'led to the impulse of the moment, and
•polien to him of a plan which he knew would
• lion extreme pleasance, and which, he hoped
would uocelerate his recovey.
\V hen they bad discussed the subject for a lit-
Sir Edward went in search of his wife,
while frank retired to his chamber. Lady Ir
win , 31by the the, drawing- She drew finely,
• -lie Lived the art. Sir Edward stood over
her ; ir a while, and admiring the design, point
ed iiut the same time some defects in the ere
. iit ion, thou, turning to the fire, he stood some
tour in •dience, and taking up a book, seemed
the perusal of it, till, at last he suddenly
• not without a slight tremor in his voice.
'.lly the way, Helen, did I tell you Itartyn
L I,ly Irwin answered in the negative; but she
li , l feel sufficient interest in the intellgence
lilt Vtrupt, her occupation.
"Yes, poor fellow! he is gone at last," contin
ued Sir F.dward. "It is surprising that he last
ell so long, consideridg the roughwiage the French
gave him in the last war. Re must have been
nearly eighty. Ile was a bit often British oak,
tough to the last chip. Of coarse, Mrs. Martyn
des not stoy at Elington. Her nephew writes
word that she wishes to give cyst once, which
is fortuoaue, for I could not well have turned
her out "
-Da you think you ere likely to gets higher
rent for the place, then?"
"U, no the rant Martyn pia WWI well enough.
I have been thinking it would do for Frank and
K irty. To be cure the hoagie is small, and I dare
will want something done to it; bat it is a
~1 11:2 little place, and Devnoshire will probably
-u:t Frank, now that terrible fever bag made him
d•h, :u t,. You know it is, in a manner, hie na
-1n• His mother waa born and brought up
tiv.ry.
I, pi Irwin bent lower over her drawing. Sir
E I wati continutid speaking, fast, but wits a
„ of growing tinealiinesa.
kuow you aro as anxious m lam to pro.
.uote 1114 luippiorss; and it IS very - fortunate that
iv , art• able to gratify him without trenehing_me-
Du our income. For my awn part, ae
tO.W;.t.ige that at first I did not, &el the neeea
i•or a second establi46meuL lint I dire ay
y-u wero rig it , and lam sure you will Aare my
iu au arrangement which meets all
the rt quireineuta of the ease."
"They caunot live there withqut an imam,"
caul Lady Irwin, after a-long pause.
"As to that, I should wish tocionsult you; for
you know so mach better than I do what would
Ekt necesaary. Ido not think they will require
more than two hundred and fifty, or Woe kin
dred at first; for Frank must take ears of filar
self; and Kitty has no eztaivagent notioaa. I
suppose they can stay With as when Obey come
to town."
Ltd y Irwin made so rept!. Her husband, op
pressed by the osisioas Wean, chisw him Asir
'closer to the hearth, and dirrod titslts, wick 411
attempt t 9 sees" sheoseensd. Theses 1111114011110-
" ill / 1 .4 ingo l,
1 110 014 18 "11.11111,0104FIVW:NINP
$1 50 A YEAR, IN WWI.
ERIE, SATURDAY MORNING, AI UST 44855.
seat of her 'OW. Atom Pelle , she
gathered her drawing amisrinie terthar, sod
was leaving the room, whim Sir Milinsd, t a ki ng
her by the hand, looked Alp into 6erbee with as
attempt at s smile, saying,
“Come, sit down, Helen, and let tm talk it
over."
"There can be no need to talk Ow what you
have already arranged," she returned coldly,
disengaging her hand; and without another word
or a backward look, she left the roma.
"Here's a pretty storm," mattered Sir Edward.
"If Helen did but know how like '!siphon she
looks in that angry mood of her's, saw wou ld not
be angry so often. Who would have iinticpated
such a reception of a plan which sets everything
to rights? 0, woman, woman, ineomprehensi
ble, irrational contradictory."
So saying, or rather so thinking, he turned for
consolation to:his book, and oontri?ed to loose,
for a while, the sense of domestic disquiet in the
brilliant and witty pleading of one his favorite
essayists.
Not so, Lady Irwin. The burning indigna
tion which has violently repressed, burst out in
fiery words as soon as she reached her ehamber,
and stood face to face with Agnese, busied there
with duties of her office. •
"I rrge what you will now, Agoese, you shall
not find cue flagging. I was a fool to spurs your
advioe before; but his weakness made me child
ish. Now, all that is past., and you need not fear
me; lam despised, and counted as nothing by
my husband and by theboy I saved from the jaw
of death. They hold their onnaultatione; they
determine what they will do; and, when it is
done, they bid me receive with joy the intel
ligence that my child is counted as nothing 'to
his father's sight, and that we are to be robbed
of a third of our income. 41! had I but harken
ed to the voice that bade tnellstned to you,when he
lay senseless and powerless--wben disease had
done tbs. work ready to my hand, and only to
leave undone was needful. Now, he is strong
again in mind and body, and the strength he has
regained, through my help, he uses to insult and
injure we! Ile must needs enter on the estate
at once. He must sow enmity between me and
my husband. When was it before, since the day
when he first called me wife, that Bir Edward
de
cided on even the smallest of big affairs without
me? Now he consults, he decides, he portions
out his income; and, when it is done, be tells me
thus and thus it is to be. Devise whatyou will
—fear no flinching in me mow."
"Noble Madonna," cried Agnese, with a look
of triumph; "nowyou' are yourself again, all will
be well; the daughter of the Care shall never
queen it here; and Rdward shall inherit thelands
of his father."
"We must be careful what we do ' Agnese; we
must be subtle and secret. Sir Edward has given
to his son, to this Prank, who, but for me, might
be lying in the vault beside his moth er, the
house in Devonshire,because it was hiamother's,
and he is quite sure that I must approve of so
equitable an arrangement. The poor simpleton,
Ann Irwin, left the house to her husband, think
ing, I suppose, that no second love would banish
her pale image from his heart, and that he could
soar to no higher passion. This house is to be
rendered buck to her son, that he may live there
with his wife; and that they may enjoy their
Paradise, three hundred pounds a year is to be
taken from oar income. Listen, Agnew, I will
urge my husband to mud his son to Elington; he
shall alter and furnish kie uti. I will have
pisost u tha Anasdaw
and the pleasure-group sit be re-arranged to
his fancy; sod he shall dream of the happiness
he is never to know, ea be wandees through the
newly-adorned rooms, and lingers under she
trees. Ile shall return to fetch his bride—she
shall twine the orange-Bowers in her hair—the
wedding guests shall assemble—bat the ringers
who were to ring out the wedding peal shall toll
for a death."
"Will you not destroy the girl with her lover?"
inquired guise, eagerly.
"Xo, T hate her too much; she has won from
me the hearts of all I love; but for her smiles
and soft voice I might have lived happy and in
nooent. She loves his, Agnesir, he is as dear to
her as the light of heaven. She shall live to pine
for him in.hopeless sorrow."
"We must be wise and secret," said lig
nese. "The crime shall be mine, lie vengeance
yours."
"Never fear, Agnew. The vengeance I will
take shall be sudden and certain as the swoop of
the eagle. But, enough, we have time to spare;
to deceive them into security mustbe our present
labor "
"Kitty," cried Edward, bursting into the draw
ing-room, at the Parsonage , where Catharin. eat
with an open boo k be fore her, her thoughts
wandering far away, "Kitty, my dear sister,
what sin 1 to doY Here I have been puzzling
my brain for the last ten days to compose an
lEpithalamium for you and Final! I tried Greek
first, but you know I've only read the Prome
theus, and lambies don't come easy. I tried
Latin next, but I couldn't determine whether it
should be in Sapphics or Alaska, and owing to
the confusion of my mind, half the stanza was in
one and half in the other; so down I fell to En
glish, plain, wholesome English, as father calls
it—which is, after all, the most Christian lan
guage of the three I shall have a couple of
hours' hard fighting with the Muse, by and by,
and ru bring her coy ladyship to terms, depend
upon it. If you could but help ine to s rhyme,
now and then—but, of course, that ill not to be
expected. Mother is tremendously grand to-day.
I can't get a word out of her, or rd have
pressed her into the service. She is glorious at
finding rhymes. She has got a splendid gown for
to-morrow, and a bonnet my taut would give her
ears for.
"I wish I could show her how grateful I am
for all her goodness to us
,
" said Catherine.
"I don't think yo n . need feel oppressed by the
weight of the obligauoa " replied Bdward, gaily;
"though I taw say mot her has behaved splendid
ly about Elingtoa; and one must not mind her
being a little cross sometimes. B u t can ., Kit
ty! If Igo and fetch the horses, you'll have
one more ride with me, won't you, before you
join the formidable corps of matrons. Just one
last ride?"
Catharine not unwillingly minuted, for she
loved the boy dearly; and, in the near app roach
of an event so important, she felt herself unable
to exercise the habitual oontroi over her thoughts.
It was a day in early auttuati. The foliage had
lost twilling of its summer Masse, though it
was colored here and there with the beautiful
shades that herald its decay. Bases clustered
round the cottage doors, and the earth was
fraguant with clematis, while the stately autumn
dowers nodded 'neatly greetings to seek other,
and the ripe fruits basked is the sunshine. The
fresh wi4 the blue sky, the rieh butdseape, com
bined to Ades the spirits if 111 riders. Never
had Edward looked so hassissmr, never bad the
play of his mind been so gracile!. Catherine
meld not help gazing withadmitation on his dark
animated ecouttensues, and w Ohs supple gram
of kis movements.
"I will be with you Woos
Kitty," be pily cried albs
the posy oho Mad b 00544006
Flask io•st hamlet Bit
Isiah the Nl'
is oki."
Mrs &wind is kook oast
=
CHAPTIIR XIII
to-morrow,
• away, leadiag
WPM M •.a
liNit bet, 111
s►• Ni..,
!!!!!!!
'ha lass, on his glossy obestant banter, aingu . g
*tingly, and with sway a bright backward look
and glad (unwell.
CR APT= Xrit
The autumn day had long since elosed. Lurid
*loads shut in the horison; and the full harvest
moos waded through majestic clouds—now
wal
lediabydeose 11111811e15^^-119W in fragments of gro
tesque shape. Lady Irwiti stood on the balcony
on which her dressing-room opened. The heavy
shade of the trees; the stillness broken fitfully
by the meanings of the rising wind, and the jag
ged clouds, were in grand harmony with her spirit.
The weight at her heart, seemed a little lighten
ed am she oontemplateAl, in the deepening night,
this tempest hatching in apparent calm, and ready
to burst.
The door of the chamber opened, but so softly,
that it was only by the current of air produced
that Lady Irwin was aware of it. Agnes* entered
the room, her olive cheek pale, and her thin lips
compressed.
Lady Irwin stepped slowly from the bal
cony, her eyes flied in eager inquiry on her atten
dant.
"It is done," said the Italian, speaking with
difficulty from her parehed throat. Then, after
a pause, she added more quickly, "it was quite
may. The glass was on the table where El
ton bad placed it, with the Seltzer water. 1 t
wan all as asm►l. The night is hot; he will cer
tainly drink."
"If he should discover it," said Lady Ir
win.
"I placed the powder in the glass as you
bade me. It is, impalpable,--if there is only
enough."
"What 1 gave you would destroy half a dozen
lives But what if he should not drink."
"I do got fear that He will be weary And
lest that cold drink should be insufficient to tempt
him, I got some claret, and placed it hard by The
Cure has no great choice of winee lie will not
fail to drink."
"Is he not yet come home? Ile lingers to-night
I wish it were over. The suspense is unendurable
Did you hear nothing then?"
"( ►tsly the sighing of the wind through the trees.
There will be wild work among them to-night
Wild work within and wild work without: stout
young branches rent and snapped, like a tulip
by the band of a child."
"Be silent, Agneae," cried Lady Irwin, fiercely;
"the sound of your voice makes me mad! Be
silent, and let me listen."
In obedience to her command Agnese was silent.
The agony of expectation became every moment
more intense. Vet there was no touch of remorse
—no timely repeu'ance Every nerve wiei stim
ulated to the highest pitch of sensibility Sounif4,
in general scarcely audible, seemed so loud and
importunate, as to be almost unendurable Every
pulsation of the great clock of the stpirease, the
guttering of a moth against the window, the whit
:4'g of a bat's wing in its torturous flight, were
all so many sources of agony.
"The glass mast be changed, and the wine tak
en sway," said Lady Irwin at last, unable longer
to endure the silence "Have you thought of
that, Agnese? They will betray us "
"1 shall notdare to go in," criedAgimse, shrink
ing with terror
"Not dare to go in!" repeated Lady Irwin,
with surprise Why not' What should you
fear?"
"When he is dead!" said Agnese, in s low
ulna.
"What harm can the poor clay do you, simple
ton?" cried Lady Irwin, acornfully. "What! the
daughter of Beatrice Piaterella!"
Agnese hung her head and was silent.
"Ile will only look like one in a deep sleep—
like one in a deep leaden sleep. We have only
lulled him to sleep—to the sweet dreamless sleep
that knows no waking. His individual essence
—that in him which groaned and suffered—will
be resumed into the great all-pervading soul.—
He is but rocked to sleep a little before his time,
to be reproduced in some other form of being
It is she who will suffer; the pain and the woe
will be all hers. But hark! I hear Sir Eslward's
dz i rzen. He will be amazed to find ine still
. Quick, Agnese. Give me my dressing
gown, and let down my hair.
As she hastened the operations of her waiting
woman, whose hands, cold and clammy with et
citemeut, were little apt to render her service, the
clock struck eleven.
"He cannot be long now," said Lady Irwin,
assisting her =ld to unfasten the long coils of
her hair. "If you are afraid to go alone, wait
for mo, and, when Sir Edward is asleep, I will
come to your room, and we will go together.—
How awkward you are to-night, Agnese. Comb
my hair carefully instead of tearing it. Do you
forget we are to have a wedding to-morrow?"
At this moment Sir Edward came through
the dressing-room. He paused to say a few words
to his wife, and to make some inquiries as to the
arrangements for the morrow.—Lady Irwin's
face reflected in the mirror, shaded though it was
by the profuse masses of her hair, struck him
by the extreme pallor, made the more remarkable
by the feverish brilliancy of her eyes. Ile lingered
to observe her,
and, tenderly chiding her negli
gence of her health, closed the window.
It seemed to Lady Irwin and to Agnese that
he would never go. In vain she returned short
answers. He was evidently disturbd about her.
He would not go, but began to talk of other
things. Aware of the extereme danger of awaken
ing his suspicions, she did her best to stimulate
an interest she did not feel. But when she be
came aware that some one was moving in the room
above, which was Frank's, her excitement be
came uncontrollable. At length, shaking her
hair over her face, so ae almost to conceal her
features, she said, with a desperate attempt at
playfulness.
"Come, Edward, I shall quarrel with you, if you
do not go quickly. Here I have kept poor Agnese
for half an hour over my hair. Remember, we
must be up betimes in the morning."
As she spoke there was a slight tumult over
head, and a sound as of something falling.
"Frank is noisy," said Sir Edward, with a
smile. "I suppose he doesn't feel particularly
sleepy. I didn't know he was come home." And
so saying, be took up his candle and went into
his heed-room.
When he was gone,Lady Irwin closed the
door, and turned her ee towards Apese. The
two g.uilty creatures looked at each other in
speechless but eager inquiry. They listened
breathlessly, but there liss nothing more to break
the stillness above. The great clock ticked, the
wind wailed among the trees, and the rains came
in heavy droops, splashing on the terrace and
ploughing up the earth. With these sounds,
mingled the peaceful movements of Sir Edward
as he prepared for repose. The lightning flashed
across the windows in fierce succession, disclosing
the ridged landscape sod the pale eager fume of
the wicked women.
AU as Gam there was a noise of opening/and
shutting doors; a quick step mounted the main;
it parsed Lady Irwin's door, and amended in the
room above. The women looked at each other in
as agony of espeetatioa; who can imagine the
iatzpewetbit terror of this mamma
Who was it that same ea ewiftly?--who had
fallen a few minutes before? The step is the
eiumbes above went rapidly to and fro. Thee
there was a momentary pause—is great cry of
inwpriss or terra—hasty movements—the Sft
*gyms et a wiskip—die vises* ringing s
obotorfei *poi aft samiag abode%
then a hasty running down stairs, and a pause
at Sir Ndward's door.
"For God's sake, get up, sir!" cried Frank's
♦oioe, in a whisper, a whisper terribly audible' to
Lady Irwin. "Don't alarm my tnother: V/ward
is ill."
"Where? What it 4 the matter" cried 4ir Kb
ward, starting up in alarm
"I don't know—he seems to have fainted. He
is in my room. go— --"
But here he was interrupted . by a shriek so
loud, so terrible, that it seemed like the rend
ing assunder of soul and body, and Lady Irwin
rnished in with fierce desperate eyes, demanding
the truth.
Wildly raving, and followed By Sir k;dward
and his son, who strove in vain to restrain her,
and wondered at her strange and terrible words,
she rushed to the chamber where the awful pun
ishment of her crime awaited her. Little wonder
that the sightwhich was there blasted her vision,
overthrew her reason; fur there he lay, the gal
lant boy just on the verge of manhood, not half
an hour ago so full of joy and promise, dead on
a couch beside the open.sl window. the, stormy
wind blowing his long hair wildly to and fro.
the table stood the glass, and by it lay the
copy of verses which had been the occasion of his
visit to his brother's room. Ile had gone to rest
early, as his mother thought, but he had set his
heart on finishing his poem, and having succeeded
beyond expectation, had taken it to read it to his
brother: entering his room by a study common
to the two. The wine which was to ensure the
destruction of his brother had tempted the boy,
weary with excitement, and he hid drunk
Consternation and dismay spread through the
house and village. The tacts of the case were
too notorious to be concealed. lady Irwin's
reason was destroyed by the frightful eata.strqphe;
and she now bemoaned her child—now demand
ed vengeanee on his itiurdere-zs .‘gnese, over
whelmed by her reproaetws, attempted neither
escape nor defence. With a curious self-devotion,
she found some solace in her tui-cry by arro g ating
to herself the guilt whodi she shared with her
mistress; and in her shameful deathjelt a glow
of triumph in the thought that she suffered for
the only being she loved
Sir Edward, overwhelmed by the loss of his
child, and by the crime of 111 , site, humbled
himself at the toot of the cress, and in the depth
of his misery learned to prize the light which, if
he had not despised, he had disregarded. The
marriage between Frank and l'atlit rine was sol
emnized by his desire, when a year had passed;
and they retired to I ievonshire. where, iu works
of active benevolence, and in a fervent brit:hum
ble spirit, they endeavored to live by the precepts
of the great Master, whope kingdom is yet to come
• -
A Romantic Story
Some twenty year- ago, a young man, whom
shall call wa- pastor of a lame con
gregation of the Established l'huroh of S(totland.
At school and at colt ego he wrs distinguished tor
his love of learning, and as a minister was unri
valed for his cluquenee snit mental attainment-
He had been settled about a year, and was on
the eve of being - married to a tine young woman
whom he had loved from childlioisl, when the
beritors and several Eugll.ll gentlemen, who were
then on a vi-it i., the North, attonly.l kirk to
bear the tamoii- pre:teller IF more than veri
fied hi. fame ; he enraptiireit hp, a ndi e r w e Hi m
theme was the story of hi. church Its many
disastrous wars, its martyrs, it. heroes, i ts undy
ing hopes, even wheu de.prir seemed to shroud
it in endless night, its inis and it.
final triumphs wire ea'h in torn pre.ente4 to the
minds of the bearers with a power and feeling
which defy description Ile stood the genius of
eloquence personified But there was one among
his hearers who was not bewildered by his glow
ing pictures.
The gentle-hearted Belle, his lc , trothed, when
the congreption dispersed, tollowi 1 him to the
mase Ile received hi rin hisly, but while
conducting her to a chair she sank to the door,
and burst into tear._ "11 .1 amie:" she exclaim
ed, as he raised her tenderly in his arms and seat
ed her on a sofa, "ye Lac broken my purr hAirt!"
"How so, my Belle! explain: — "Ye were diunk,
raving drunk, Jamie, and i wonder the elders did
nae tak' ye o' the pulpit! Ve whined and ran
ted, and sometimes, t iod forgive me for saytng
sac, I thought I saw the Evil One standing be
aide you, laughing and clapping you on the shoul
der. My pair brain reefed--I was mail and
knew it—l'm mad now-1 canna live out this
day—l feel my blood freest—t tiod, be merci
ful to me a sinner, and save, t ), save my Jamie:"
Her head- reclined upon him homom, she gazed
upon him for a moment, and expired in his anus.
lie had preached him last sermon No entrea
ties of a congregation who loved him—no flatter
ing offers of future preferment tendered by the
gentry could induce him to resuatt his labors as
minister.
Five or six years passed, when the writer of
this, who was his sehoolfcllow, accidentally met
him in London. Jamie was then one of the prin
cipal teachers in a large educational establish
ment, and was highly c.teemed fur the moral
excellence of his character, as well as his learn
ing and skill as a successful teacher Ile was
dressed in deep mourning, shunned society, when
the labors of the day closed, he either wander
ed alone through the streets, or retired to his
lodging. The scene of Belle's death was ever
present to his memory.
Her pare soul, he said, saw him as he was, a
poor, vain, self-conceited sinner For the pur
pose of concentrating his thoughts and infusing
life into his sermons, he was in the habit of tak
ing a glass of whiskey before entering the pulpit.
The morning before he preached the fatal ser
mon he felt rather nervous, for he knew there
would be strangers to hear him, and he took
nearly two glasses. What he said l 'or how he
conducted himself, no effort could recall—the
death of Belle alone had merged into itself the
doings of that fearful day. The compliments
which he received sounded in his ears like satire
and mockery, and the very name of liquor im
pressed aim with horror.
He left home and came to London, where be
obtained a situation as a teacher, but everything
appeared so black to him that he expressed fare
he should, in some unguarded moment, destroy
himself.
His tend, who was a sailor, suggested some
active employment that would call into play his
physical faculties, and thus give his mind a rest,
ing spell, and ende4 by offering to procure a place
before the mast in a ship. "T like your sa ges-'
tine," he said, "but dislike the sea." "Then
turn soldier and seek employment in India, where
there is always plenty of fighting." "I will," be
said, springing from his chair, "when my engage
ment aspires, I will purchase an ensign's com
mission. I wonder the thought never suggested
itself to me, for my ancestors, as far back as lean
trace }hem, were soldiers. Better, far better, to
die on the field of battle, than to fall by one's
own band!" We separated.
A few weeks since, in rimming my eye along
the listof those who had distinguished themselves
at the battle of Inkermann, I saw the name of
Unit. lbl. —. A letter from my friend in
formed as that be hadsered in India order Lord
Gough, aad was promoted for his gallant goa
ded in three eampeigns. He was present at the
battles of Alma, &laklevs, and 12'min, and
at cast amounts was in good health; sagagai in
thssisge of Sebastopol. He was Mill singim—
“his heart was dead to lava."...kikoa
B. F. SLOAN, EDITOIL
A Tirst Imps of s Star.
She hut boos told that tied made all the Mon
That twinkled up in heaven; and now die atood
Watching the coming of the twilight on,
As if it were a new and perfect world.
And this were its fret OTC flew boontifal
Must he the work of Nature tea child
In its first isepression. Laura stood
By the low window, with the silken lash
Of her soft eye opralsoCane r her orereeouseuth
Half pitted, with the new and mini* delight
of beauty t h at a ka mould not comprehend,
And had not seen before. The purple fold '
Of the love sunset clouds. aud the blue sky
That litoked so still and delicate *boos,
her young heart with emit:mos: sad the *vs
Stole on with its deep shadows. Lours OM
Stood, looking at the West, with that half Indle,
As it a pleasant thought were at her beast.
Presently in the edge of the last tint
Of sunset, where the blue was incited in
To the faint golden mellowness--a star
Peeped suddenly A laugh of wild delight
l!,urat from her Ups, and putting up bet hands,
Her simple thou4hts broke forth expressively—
" Father, dear father' I has made a Star"'
What Constitutes Riches.
"To be rich," raid Mr Marcy our worthy
Secretary of State, "require 3 only a !Esti
condition of the mind. t ►ne man may 1 '6 4 , ( =
with a hundred dollars, while another in %be
possession of millions may think himself poor;
and as the necessities of life are enjoyed by each,
it is evident that the poor man who is best satis
fied with his possessions is the richer."
To illustrate this idea 4r. Marcy related the
following anecdote!: "While i was Governor of
the State of New York," said he, "I was called
upon one morning at my *office by a rough speci
men of a backwoodsman, who stalked in and oom
meneed conversation by Inquiring 'if this was
Mr.Marcy''
"I replied that was my name
" Bill Marcy?' said he I nodded assent.
" I Tsed to live in Southport, didn't ye?'
"1 answered in the affirmative, and began to
feel a little curious to know who my visitor was,
and what be was driving at.
"'That's what I told 'cm,' cried.lhe backwoods
man, bringing his hand down on his thigh with
tremendous force; told 'em you was the same
old Bill Marcy who used to live in Southport,
but they wouldn't believe it, and I promised the
next time I came to Albany to come and see you
and find out for sartain Why, you know me,
don't you, Bill?"
‘ , l Ilid ' ut exactly like to ignore the acquaint
ance altogether, but for the life of mo I couldn't
recollect ever having seen him before, and so I
replied that he had a familiar countenance, but
t h a t 1 was net able to call Lim by name.
."My name i' .flek Smith,' answered the
backwoodsman. 'and we used to go to school to
gether thirty years ago in the little red school ,
house In old Southport. Nell, times has changed
since then and you have become a great man and
girt rich, 1 suppe'.e?"
'•I shook my head and was going to contradict
I this impression, when he broke in:
" 'Oh, yes yen are, I know you are rich; no
use in denying it. You was controller for a long
time, and the next we heard of you you were
Governor You must have made a heap of
money and I am glad of it, glad to see you get
ting along so smart You was always a smart
lies! at school and 1 knew you would come to
`somethin:e.'
-I thanked him for hi, good wishes and opin
ion, hot told him that political lire did not pay
4., well a.: ho Imagined .1 suppow‘,' said I,
•f,rtnnts .miloa upon you since you left
Southix)rt!''
yes,' said he, .1 hain't got nothing to
complain of; 1 must say I've got along right
smart. You see, shortly after you left Southport
our whole family moved up into Vermont and
put right into the woods, and I reckon our fami
ly cut down more trees and cleared more land
than any other in the whole State."
'.tad so you have made a good thing of it.
flow much do you consider yourself worth?' I
asked, fealing a little curious to blow what be
considered a fortune, a:. he seemed to be 20 well
satisfied with his.
•Wcll,' be replica, .1 ‘lon't, know exactly how
much I am worth; but I think (Atruightening
hiin4elf up) if all my debts were paid, I should be
worth three hundred dollars clean cash.' And
he was rich; for he was satiAtied,"
tom- Cul Sam Black, ut Pennsylvania, made
a speech a short time since, in which he thus al
ludes tt the "old Revolutionary Commodore:"
"It i a fact wirthy naming here that the first
ship of war which sailed from
..our shores--tbe
11tred—left Wnlnut street wharf, Philadelphia,
in February, 1776—1 mean, sir, the first
_ship
American which Elated an John Paul
Jones a Seotehman, and as gallant a man
-
as ever looked into the deep sea:, or gazed
n the.eagle's nest high up in the tops of the
mountain, with his own hand raked this, the first
American flag that ever floated over an Ameri•
can vessel. (Applause.) That flag was a yellow
silk flag, with a pine tree, indicative of our wan
try, and a rattlesnake uncoiled underneath, with
that thrilling motto, which he knew so well how
to carry out, 'Don't tread on me, my stroke is
death.' ( Applause.) First among the list of
li.2ntenants in the American navy, appointed
there on the recommendation of Gen. Hugh Mer
cer, of Virginia, and on the motion of Richard
Henry Lee, is that. .ioues.a foreigner. He went,
to his duty faithfully, from one ship to another
he passed. Wherever he went he was a terror
to our enemies, and a source of great joy to our
country lie was a universal terror to the foes
of freedom; and when the Star Spangled Banner
was adopted as our national flag, that same Pull
Jones, still a Seotchman, but yet a true Allied..
can, on the Banger, raised the first Americas lag
with his own hands over that vessel, twists seal
ing his fidelity to the country of his adoption."
- -410-
PAD ti v's It i ov PERI)IT 10 N.—Pat McCarty
was "a broth of a boy," and altogether u "de
cent" a man and as handy with asps& as any of
the whole five hundred who were at work upon
the railroad, then and now in process of building
in the northern part of Ohio. lie was a great
favorite with the overseer, on amount of his
faithfulness and integrilsof character, but he had
one fault that sorely grievedhie employer.—
Though as sober as a sexton for six days in the'
week, Pat could not resist the temptations of
"pay day," and when Saturday came round, Se
ver failed to get as "drunk as a loni." Having
tried every other reformatory expedient in vain,
the overseer at length bethought of the riot,
who prevailed on Pat to "take the pledge, sad
sent him on his way rejoicing. But, alas! the
next day was "too many" for Poor Pat, who,
staggering through the village at noon, wet no
less • personage than the priest who had attempted
to reform him. "You're lest, Pat—entirely lost!"
said his reverence, with • sigh of genuine sorrow.
Pas was bewildered for a nkolMeak bat bri
stared about him until he had fairly asoerteiasd
hits hod 'hereabouts, he exclaimed crime**.
17—ifLost!--is it lost I am? lost, in kola day
light, half way between Jimmy Staels and the
frinf‘houger — to the diva TM yet aossesser—.
'Woo fbse . •
stir A (*Wed Irma* rimently disibiallie
*Mt% N. 13 a. 4 1245 7litS•
NUMBER 12.
C 3