4 OVER THE RANGE. Over the range The rifted range, where the purple and gol. Of the high lulls litt like a picture unralled- We pitch our tents. By the grovR of the giioiueß, by far-voicet streams, That cry like lost fun in our lotus-dreams; Where our dre/nn-dulled ears catch the sor rowful sigh- The piteous plaint of the pines as we lie lu their eliudows dense. Over the range— Bohemia bleat; while the sun's sandulec feet Btill circle afar in their flery beat Through dust und heat By the marts of men. Here the gold anc blue; And the star-strewn ways are our ways, and you And I will forget toil's pitiless rods; Aye, forget, while we drink the wine of tin gods, P'or the grapes are sweet. Over the rango In peak-sentineled purks, by dim-aisled groveß, We lay down our lives and lift up lost loves, 0 doar heartsease! We kiss them swift, for these dreams are brief As the breeze that fondles the falling leaf. They vanish away as the red rivers run Thro' tangled hills to the fugitive sun By the sunset sens. Over the range— The purpling peaks—when our dole is done; Our locks grown gray 'neath an olden suu— Life's love grown strange. We will close the book that is read, and hence, With holy hands, we will pitch white tents By shimmering streams on a shadowy shore And wake from idyllic dreams no more Over the range. —[Tom H. Cannon, in Chicago Times. A MMM DECEPTION. BY D. J. FINLAY. Moonlake cottage had boon untenanted for two years, and as a matter of course the subject was a theme of gossip. Everybody wondered why the heir to the property did not make his appearance. Of course there was no particular reason why a man could not leave his house shut up while he amused himself elsewhere, but that did not satisfy Mrs. Forrester, for this estimable lady tried in various ways to solve the mystery. "My dear," she said to her husband, one evening after she had returned from a call upon the Septon family, "I have • news for you. I have just heard that an old housekeeper has arrived at Moonlake and has taken charge of the house." "Well, there is nothiug wonderful about thut. It is quite a common thing for a man to send his servants to clean his house before he comes to take up his abode in it," said Mr. Forrester to his better half. "How stupid men are! To my mind it is a very unusuul occurrence, and I am sure there is some mystery attached to it. Why should Mr. Walpole remain in Florida for two years after the death of his auit, who left him heir to her property? lam going over to see the old housekeeper in the morning, and if I don't find out something from her then my name is not Amanda Forrester." Faithful to her promise she walked j over to the cottage after breakfast next ! morning, but failed to elicit the desired information from Mrs. Jones. "Indade, ma'am, I can tell no more ! about it than yersclf. The gintleman I that hired mo is the agent, and ho towld me to clauo up the place and kape it in good orther. He said the masther might cum soon, but that ho didn't know for sure." This was the substance of what Mrs. ' Forrester gathered from Mrs. Joues, who, I it will he seen, was a native of the Emerald Isle, and had tact enough to keep a secret. For some time after this affairs went on in the usual quiet way, and Moonlake was allowed to rest in peace. The neighboring houses were soon filled with gay summer boarders, and as Mrs. Forrester had all she could accom modate she refrained from instituting any further inquiries concerning the missing heir. It was nothing unusual for the Forres ters to have hoarders during the summer months, but Mr. Forrester never liked to have strangers in the house, as ho always found that his home oomiorts grew grad ually less in proportion to the number of guests. Ho did not usually complain, however, but oil this occasion he had a long and rather spirited conversation with his wife on the subject. "Now, my dear Amanda," said lie one morning niter ho hud come down u little later than usuul, and consequently hud to bo content with n cold breakfast, 4 '! j tell you plainly that this is the lust year we will be annoyed in this way. it is ' perfectly preposterous, and 1 will not stand it another season." If it happened that .Mrs. Forrester was in ill humor on this particular morning of course there would have been a slight family quarrel; but, fortunately, on this occasion she knew just what to say in order to sootbo her husband's temper. "Now, my dear," said she, "I know, as well as you do, the number of discom forts to which wo have to submit, but I think, for Ella's sake, wo ought to bear it gracefully. She is Our only child, and we have no right to keep her shut up in the house without over seeing company." "Oh, no, of course wo ought to con sider our daughter's prospects," said Mr. Forrester, "and I think she is consider ing her own, too, if I am any judge of human nature. She seems to he very fund of entertaining Goruld Manstield and lb'iihen Faircliff." "Well, I dare say Ella likes to have compliments from young gentlemen, and 1 did, too, when I was her age," said she. , with a smile which mado the old gentle-1 man wince, for ho had not quite lost his j memory regarding her young days. ] "But," she added, "I have no idea of letting her become attached to any gen tleman yet awhile, as I have other views of a husband for her. 1 think that if Mr. Walpole would come and take up bis abodeat Moonlako cottage he would make a very good husband for Ella; that is, if she liked him, and it is very proba ble she would, judging from all 1 have heard of his fine appearance and prepos sessing manner." Mr. Forrester laughed good-naturedlv at his wife's imaginative turn of mind, and having lighted a cigar he went out to take his usual walk after breakfast, per fectly satisfied to leave the care of the house to his wife. The suspicious Mr. Forrester enter tained in respect to Gerald Mansfield's attentions to Ella were, indeed, well founded, ns a clone observer mighi imagine, seeing them together on thii particular morning, j j They had gone out for a row on the _ lake, and seemed to be enjoying the so ciety of each other very much, hooking at them now, as they are un ■ j dor the simile of the large trees which skirted the laAe, it would be hard to find a more perfect type of physical beauty than each possessed. Mr. Mansfield was a man of fine per sonal appearance, and had all the cul ture and refinement of a true gentle man. Miss Forrester was decidodly good ' looking; a blonde in every sense of the term, but not what is vulgarly called "a washed-out blonde," for she had all the bloom and freshness of a country girl l< * accustomed to plenty of fresh air and exercise. d "That is a decidedly old-fashioned cottage," said Mr. .Mansfield, as they came in sight of Mr. Wa I pole's place; 10 "do you know the history of it, Miss For rester?" "Oh, yes," said she, "but I don't sup pose it would be of much interest to you. I belive the man who built it was an old •d Knglish gentleman who took a fancy to the situation and bought the place. It a was said that he lived a rather reckless life and killed himself by high living. The property then descended from 0110 - e to another, and now it belongs to a young gentleman whose namo is Walpole. It lias been vacant for some time, and no body seems to know anything about the present owner." "That is rather a strange history," said he, "and it has aroused my curiosi ty. I would like to havo a look at the