0. G. HEIPSTEAD, Proirietoi.
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•03'2'31slig ,
_ _
Cr Som -- — els . its ago a ballad, written hy the great
„ho t,.
a . p . p .. Tilita m it4 any and dedicated -To BrothelJon
of the English and several
American lontindil. : The following -response.. among (dh
ow oft similar el4netter, has been furnished the New
York Evening P o se:
BALLABOTO BROTHER JOHN. ,
Ho Brother4ohn, my " heart 9f oak,”
Your proOred hand I clasp,
With one tuAgrong in battle- stroke,
As true bit friendship's grasp',
And trust nio, Sohn as proud of you,
And our clki England home,
As e'er we sought us out a new,
This side the ocean's foam.
No Brother Sohn, we'll ne'er forget—
Though sometimes we are foes—
That in lored: Albion's bosom yet,
Our fatheny bones repose;
That side brside, for freedom, right,
They stood, those noble ones,
And won in Many a stubborn fight,
The boon for us, their sons.
They made uti heirs of freedom, John,
We've guarded well the pledge,
In Senate strifes, and oft upon
Grim battle's bloody edge.
And still the4rust with heart as bold,
We'll shield from tyrant powers :
Your flag St,PGeorge's crimson fold—
The starrAanner ours.
And, haply should the haughty foe
Invade our!parent shore :
Together, John, our blood bight flow,
As, it was *oat of yore.
These brother banners side by side,
Again perchance would wave
O'er warriorslrallying in their pride,
Their Fatkrland to save.
!)
We ran away I own it true,
And would you know the cause ?
'Twas not hetause we hated you,
Your counPry or your laws :
But had Bonn) notions of our own,
That didnti square with yours,
About religidn and the tbrdne,
Your bislntips, peers and cures.
thoughti.iss of young bloods will do,
Our home'ilma grown to small
For bbth, aria so we left you r_
The ''old aiieestral hall."
The battlemtiits that age had marr'd,
The ivy nuptled spires—
We knew, with lusty strokes you'd guard
The ashes,o our sires.
And so, wit hi '' lr eedom in our bearts,7
The Bibliin (tur hand,
And bold in Orength that heaven imparts,
We s3tigheanother land ;
Transplantectto a wider shore,
A second Britain rose,
Alike in langUage, laws, and lore,
And hear+ meet her foes.
And then oh4ea against our will,
A tax yooought to lay,
Which we—find that was British still—
Determinea not to. pay ;
From words fist last it came to blows,
As other ts,fr if e s have done.
You found ug not unworthy foes,
And own'.4us—twenty-one.
15:
0 could you 4ee our happy land,
Our forest 4 and our plains ;
Our thousand, leagues of ocean strand,
Our silve4inla'nd mains;
Our hbmes `'here industry and love,
With pletgy, nestling dwell,
„While freedn's banner floats above,
Each moraitain and each dell.
As proud obis, I'm sure yould be,
And all that we have done,
As we to-trqe our pedigree,
To sons ofiAlbion,
With brother bosoms warm and true,
Where riiiry is dumb—
And Yanketicbeer shall welcome you,
Then, mat* won't you come ?
:.-
We love ourß: mind ancestral land,
Her thoutund years of fame,
Her statesmen, sages, hero-band,
As part of, ours we claim ; . .
Yes ours, deir John, their blood is ours,
It flows tee in OM' veins,
Nor bends sive to the heavenly powers—
And owrino coward stains'.
The wan ofAvon's sweetest sons,
And IliltiVe, bard sublime, '
Oar bills and dales their strains prolong—
Those vulahipped of all time;
No prondeOtunes, no nobler lore,
Tie listSM fame disclose,
And may Or tongue be never more
The hingtjtage of our foes. •
• To us, destigohn, the pow'rs above,
Hove fretsdom, virtue given,
And bade na in one bond - of l o ve, •
Unite th eaith for Hea ven ,
Tben hand #) hand, and hea r t t o h eart ,
Let Viand envy cease,
And false s t ilbition never part,
us 4 wiag
The ea Ilxind of pesos.
, .
A- tho , ' comet us yet,
Itelighnik , _ ~hiya ;-
1 . I Stuni " ' :Is,* ikier foreet,
And ,i common o.**; '
WitUetiailt;i thy intioaShml44l4, -
- UNONVOis 1 41 1 . N.
atrong Noon of au *ln& ZUOLO
Magi iee `!0 000 3 01r.0.!!:_ - ,
1
:4
Of yore from one pure fount you know,
Twq streams of glory ran,
That; re-united, yet may tow,
As they at first began ;
Broad ivreeping down the vale of time,
Mid peace, and plenty glide,
While mortals from the source sublime,
Drink freedom's holiest tide. J. F. C
$1 00
eS
=so
4 00
2 00
1:13011111X1 1 9
- THE LOST GLOVE.
CHAPTER I
A little girl was sitting in the 'September
sunshine that fell in checkered gleams across
the old wooden steps in front of a decayed and
tottering building in one of the by-streets of
the Etitpire City. - The sunlight seemed like a
pleasant visiter, as it crept from her little naked
feet and ragged dress up over her dimpled arms
and shoulders, and nestled amid the shining
curls, hanging in disheveled profusion around
her sweet and childish face. But as it grew
more inquisitive, arid stole under her drooping,
lids, to discover the color of her downcast eyes,
it betrayed two_bright, sparkling, but sorrow
ful-looking tears: just creeping down to the
edge of those silken lashes.
Just: at this moment, a young man who was
passing by, stopped short , in his hasty walk,- to
gaze for a moment on the sunshine, the tears,
and the beautiful little creature before him. He
was a' poet and a painter ; and struck by the
exquisite grace and beauty of her face and at
titude, perfect in their _unconscious and un
studied -loveliness, he sought to impress the
image upon his memory.
‘' What a glorious picture I have stumbled
on," said he :.'°l must have that picture—tears,
sunshine, and all. It will win me fame." The
little maiden threw up the lashes glittering with
moisture, and perceiving a stranger, with an
artless but sad smile, - held out her hand, and
said :
" Please, sir, just a sixpence for my mother."
The stranger !milled at the pleading
band, and forgot the beautiful face. It was just
sudh a hand as he had dreamed•of, had sought
for, brit had never before found. Even though
belonging to a child, its tiny proportions were
most exqUisitely developed—rounded, delicate,
dimpled, tapering, perfect !. In the rapture of
an artist's joy, the young man caught the beau
tiful little hand in his and pressed it to his lips.
The child looked surprised and frightened, but
.she said. Meekly :
"Only a silpence, sir," in her childish, mu
sical voic.
Certainly; certainly," replied the artist, for
the, first time comprehending what she said, and
emptying a handful of dimes in her lap.
" Thank yoii!" said she, her large blue eyes
darkening with a flash of delight; " you are
very kind, sir"'
',should like to paint your portrait, pretty
ones and I will give you as much more money,
if, when I cortie for you to-morrow, your will go
home with me, and let me take your likeness. -
" What is that ?" asked the wondering child.
" Oh, I will show you, to-morrbw—sotue
thing very pretty." '
" Well. I will on, sir, if mamma-will let me."
The artist. all enthusiasm at his previous dis
covery, stepped gaily down the street, and the
little girl bounded away in the opposite direc
tion, to buy a loaf of bread for her sie:lt mother.
"See here, Mr. Baker !" said she. joyfully
springing into,a little bakery where a lard-fea
tured man stood behind the counter,.--" I mar
have the bread now, for mother—mayn't I?"
and she held out her little hand, graSping tight
the shining pieces of silver.
"Eh ! whore did you get that, little girl ?
Of coarse, you can have the bread', wi ten you
can pay for it."
" Given to me, sit"
" Humph ! on account of your bright eyes, I
suppose. Catch me giving bread, or Looney,
either, to folks, because they are pretty ;" and
laying out a loaf of bread, he took one of her
dimes in exchange. •
"Oh!" exelaimedi the child, her eyes falling
on a few oranges ranged in the window, " Ell
take an orange, too— it will please mother so."
Another dime was tater! ; and with the loaf i
of bread'and the orange, she flew hack tti her
comfortless and destitute home.
" See here mother, what I've brought yon :"
she exclaimed gaily, bounding into the caret ched I
apartment; but shei stopped short, and le Wog
fall her treasures, sprung to the bedside, where
pale and motionless, ;a woman lay dying, alone
and unattended.
• The ashy lids were closed over her sunken
eyes; her colorless lips were parted, and the
breath came slow :and struggling from her
scarcely heaving bosom.
"My mother! my poor mother!" shrieked
tbe , chihl, winding her arms around ithe-emaci
ated form of her parent, and covering her aid,
clammy brow with kisses.
My child !" said the mother faiptly —" I
am dying, my Stella 1
" Oh, mother !" so bbed the little girl. And
these two words, and the tone .in frrhich they
were said, coming, as they did, from the heart
of'a child, were frau ht with an agi*y of grief
14 suffering. 1
"Stella."lcontinu d the dying wo an, " tbisi
ring, (with a strong !effort' taking it from her
finger and giving tt to the child,) keep. it el
ways—never, never part, -with it —L . m some,
tune bring .yon fricude,:, Ste G od, bless
time, my poor orphan ;" aid &sp . g her child ,
convulsively to her osom, b she , beaked a, deep
sigh, and sank butt upon 1#:pillo . ----deall.:
• All that night thli_littlegal list one on the
wooden steps, now d rying - her eyes to look Op
at the week bright stall, where he thoiight
her,mother livid gone; and again hbing'snd
ariulips most tonoltngly, till, just I the rosy
Sliv, lof l ,dimns crept over the - gm city, from
mere' eichitistion sir fell asleep . 'ter liitia
10w...
That tlic — artist,* ot come. ' '
An Si&
tit' ioipOrtaliee ;044.h/in .- from ' th' - citi for it
0-w eo f i r p e j a ;' , rhen he re rned,•a i nd
4 hill of ilie' t ' lip - r of the 1 1 e meld 6,
41: V 41w
vripii:fcjaok,C4AtO ' Was go ne , aria th.ol
jiciOio.lhkii_an,tiiit44 l '' ' f. ' : ' '- I
r- - 1 ~.. 1.- I , 3. .' . • 1 -:' ^ .1
ZI
MONTROSE PA., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER,I6, 1848.
A; month afterwards he sailed for g l o rious :agreeable conquest; she had quite a passicin' for) " Indeed, I cannot tell you how much` I love
Italy. I paintings.. Ernest would have a room `pre-leverything beautiful--my harp, my''flowers,
, - CHAPTER 11. I pared for the exhibition df Ws works tn his , and my own beautiful mistress," said the young
Eight years after this occurrence, o „ a pleas- , f`riends by the day after •to-morrow, and hi3 , andmaiden, in a trembling f slightly mdurnful
ant ,evening of October, soon after sunset, a
Would be happy to wait on"her there, mill:1w I voice; 'l, but such things make me sad and un
,
gentleman was prOmenading through Broad
-1 her opinion : no doubt her , criticisms Would be' happy, when I know I ought to- be grateful and
way:. .Just in advance of him, tripping grace
iof value. And they separated, mutually pleased. I contented. But I will ) go if you wish me."
fully over the pave, was a young girl of light' Poor little glove ! what will be thy fate? I ) How wildjy• the heart of Ernest Dunmore'
and elegant form, in a tasteful but rather plain , CIi.APTER 111. . i ' throbbed and palpitated when hia eyds met
. •i 4 1
Isidore Allen was slowly; promenading ihro' ' those
dress, and close- cottage hat. He was admiring 'of Stella May... The brightest dream,
V the exhibition-room, leaning on .the aria ef l the loveliest fancy, the sweetest vision of - his
her graceful and gliding step, when he sudden
paused. She had dropped one of her gloves. !Ernest Dunmore. He was ) more than rivet" en. !poet's soul, looked on him through those eyes
her grace,- y
He picked it up. It was a dainty little area- chanted bher:fine taste,an4 he; —the one embodiment; of all his heart, had
lion of white,kid, just the least bit in the world • loveliness. She was very enthusiastic, and her longed for, and not found--lived,breathed be-
soiled by contact with the pavement.
observations showed correct judgment andq cud-,. fore him ! The pure, girlish, spirituadbiow—
" Exquisite !" muttered he, hurrying after tivated taste.
Ern e st sighed as he stele a the deep, dreamy, shadowy .eyes—thesweet
the fair loser, with the commendable intention 'glance at her hand—it certainly was not wiper- ;
mouth, beautiful in its expression of subdued
of returning it, and perhaps, making the ac-
feet one—and thought of the glove so carefully repose—the eloquent color, coming and going
quaihtance of a lady who wore such a glove. laid—on his dressing-table. • in her cheek, just as the thoughts came and
14it he was a moment too late ; for, just as
; '
" This," said Ernest, as be threw aside
the i went in her- soul. There was a proud reserve''
he * which hung over a painting, " I consider as overtaking her, she turned suddenly and ! c l ot h , mingled with the ineffable grace of her man
mounted the stops of an elegant dwelling. Bal- 'my
master piece." I ner, that no princess cupid surpass. Ernest
arming her pretty feet on the edge of the mar
" Beautiful, beautiful !" said Isidore, an the' almost forgot to' notice her hand, till she raised
ble door-sill, she stood for, half a moment with
tears sprang uncalled into her dark soft yes, it to smooth back a truant curl that had stolen
her hand on the polished knob. The hand was
at the extreme loveliness of the picture. ,I 'Er- from the confinement of - her straw hat. It was
nest perceived them, and thought then the rut: baud he had look ed. for eight years ! She
unglibred, white as snow, and
beautiful as it
could be. She opened the door without ring - • dearest tribute that could 'be paid to his p4Wer's wore but one glove—where was its bate ?
ing ; the bell, and disappeared in the hall. Of, as an art i st. Ernest smiled, Mid his heart gave a bound
courke, she resided there.
, It was a picture of the little girl, the `sun- against the little white treasure that had, again
The gentleman placed the little glove in his I shine, and the old wodden
graceful attitude, the little p ead
steps. Tberd was found its way t.c: his vest pocket. And he had
,
pocket, took down the number of the residence, ' t h e c hildish,once held that) beautiful hand•in his;—had
and Walked away. : ing hand, extended so prettily, the daneite , iris' pressed it to his; lips ; would he ever clasp it
Iti was twilight when he reached his lodgings; of gold, and the tearful fringes throWn nep,;from I again ? For Ernest. Dunmore was a.prond
and going immediately to his room, he threw ' her large, mournful, beautiful eyes, and over all , millionaire, and 1 Stella, May was a dressing
himself into an arm-chair by the window, and' the rich, warm glowing light, slumblering Softly: maid ! They paused first before the lovely
sank, into a reverie ; from which he was awaken- over the. brightly sorrowful picture. ~ i picture of . sunset -'—an Italian scene. ,Stella
ed by the presence of a visitor, whose uneere- "precisely
1., exclaimed Isidore, after, re- , gazed at it with, a flushed cheek and brighten
moninus entrance put to flight a whole cloud of. girding it an instant; "It is the very likeness ing eye. - I .
angels in' white kid gloves, and little, mortal :of Stella May, my pretty little dressing-maid. _" Do you love Italy?—Would you like to
hands without them. 1 One would think it copied from her, just as she visit it, Miss . 3 43' ?" -
Why, I say, Ernest, how do you do ?
looked eight years ago, when mamma brought • " I have dreitmed of it often," replied the
"
don't you hear me?" her home as my companion and assistant." young girl, raising her soft eyes innocently to
" sue- Is it possible ! I beg your pardon, my old, '' Indeed !" said Ernest, while a flash of , her companion'i face. '
Hal —. I -?" exch-' 9d the' • • • -••- .....
Arun ,—, how are you (aimee ~tieprise and delight beamed over his fac - e, -- ";i11 j!
There was soMething peculiar in his earnest
dreainer, sprihging from his chair, and shaking '
:you not tell me something of your Stella 'May ?" gaze, and the silken lashes drooped slowly
his friend most sensibly by the hand. " Why,, e With pleasure ; for I look at her always in' toward the deepening color in her cheek. Isi
how :you have changed ; eight years have im- e
connection with some romance or another ; she : dore Allen' observed the manner of both, and
proved you vastly, Lmust confess.' 'is so peculiar, such a strange being. I was when Stella reified her eyes, she curled' ter full
" I can return the compliment with ieterest,'' I only a child myself, when one day, mamma was lip veryslightly, but it called the. crimson to
replied Hal, peeing admiringly upon his friend's visiting severed poor people, to whom she fre- 1 that gentle broW, and a flash of pride to those
elegant form and strikingly handsome and in- enently afforded assistance, When she noticed a ; deep beautiful ; eyes. Isidore was sorry in a
telleptual countenance. " European polish has . little girl sitting in the doorway of an old build- .moment—she Was usually so kind and eonsid
done much, 'even . for you. But how have youl in _ g,
weeping . bitterly. She spoke to her kind- - erate ; but Ernest had excited her ambition,
fared? how succeeded? -have you realised half : iv, but the little girl only raised her head a', and she . was jealous-of her dressing maid.
youi4 young dreams of glory ? has the artist ; moment, tied then sobbed more wildly than ever, ' But she knew Mr. Dunmore to be proud and
been as successful as the poet ? for we have ..ly- - mother,—my dear mother—they have fastidious, and' ,he next moment she smiled at
occasionally been favored here with some of ;buried my mother :' was all she could make her , her own vain fears. • .
• I
your luxurious fancies, done up admirably in : say e .
Touched by her grief, and anxious to I "And now* the .picture . I told You. of,. beaUtitul verse." :know if she way left friendless, mamma entered Stella," said Isidore, as the four paused in front
id the veiled pithiting, 7
"I fear you-flatter me, Hal; but, with regard !the 'bouse, Arkh she found entirely deserted
tn trio painting. I have been almost as success-1 e -r :.e_x le 1..- e A
, Th• ' , <...-.2.r•-....... ~,', .i.it.i.e.nn...tolseel firrui-4 " Only et sixpertee_please e _eir, to btiy , bread
ful as I could wish—thatis, for one who pur- 1 titre oad remained, ha i l been seized by the' fot my mother ; ' reeleated Ernest., keepinglii
On tie maiden's face; -.as he drew
tuei, it merely for his own amusement." ' neighbors in payment for various little artiele;.-eYes fixed xea,
„, •
teinte an accomplished amateur, eh ?" ..which they hed semeimes •eive- the worie;., le . "'ide r 1 /e eurtt• • -
. , - z . ,,fla gazed :at it a moment, and then up in-
Me two friends sat down to cenverse upon 'fore she died. The mother leol lie-n hurt , : '
.!. 'l,t• -
(.1d times, and the happy present, and the prom- the. Pour officers, and the child was left no bit i-I. faee of the art i.4t, with a look 01**vonder
ing inquiry. I?lfeir vues met, and Stella burst
7
isin4 future. . unprotected. the and destitute. %elate
Ltmest Dunmore had indeed not spent eight . took the little sufferer into her carriage and lA. tears. l'etilaps it nas the meknory of her
year's in travel in cultivating this fine taste [Led , brought her home. For 'days she refueed all mother—perhaps it was this thoughtless and ,
intellectual gifts,without returning to bis'coun- consolation, weeping all day and sighing all cruel reminding of what she had been—that so-,
try en exceedingly refined and fascinating man. night, as if her young heart had broken with its ,
affected her.
•
elly theway, Hal," said he, suddenly inter- I grief. But we were - all very kind to her, and! The artist wits embarrassed. It was'a - deli-
rup4ng his friend in a glowing description of. gradually, she became more contented; and' cate subject to, make apologies`, for; and his
! friend Hal and Miss: Allen both looked his anticipations of the future, " can you tell when at length, she smiled, or warbled to her
, prised, but he sallied, and said frankly=" sur
mefor-
hat young lady resides at No. Broads 'self notes of music that she had heard, child its
wav!!!" . wounded your
I was, I loved her for herheautv and sweetness. I give tne , Miss Ma if I have
•,
"?Why, Isidore Allen, our city belle. Have', We knew there must be some unusual eircum- ' feelings. It WO unintentional; , and indeed, I
you i seen her ? She is a beautiful creature— . stance connected with her, for she had a'ring, ,am very happy' to meet . again the little girl
bewitches all of us. And that just reminds,me eograven, on the inside with her natite,.' Stellal wh°, you see, I. have neverTorgetten."
thati I came with a pressing invitation from the May :* and then she was so naturally lady-like " Then, t this is a portrait of our Stella, is it?"
Bentleys fop you to attend a grand party there and refined, so tasteful and intelligent, it seem- ISaid Isidore, caressmg: the young girl,: to re- I
i
to-reght. Miss Allen will of course be there." ed as if the' very spirit of grace breathed and . move her injured feelings.
.
"'Then I shall, certainly '." was the animated lived in everythingshesaid did.M
or amine'
."Let Me return, Miss Allen :- I do not feel
reply. said she,lin s a low tone; and they retired.
. !congratulated herself -on .having found such A fwell :
"Nhy, Ernest, you must have seen this par- i treasure of a companion for her daughter ; and.' That, evening there was no company in the
agoi'l of beauty. inlove, so soon, after resist- , as for me, • Stell
, parlor, and a came down, at, Isidorrs re-
Stella was my dependence—foi she
ing all the bright eyes and bewildering smiles assisted me in all the tasks imposed upon ' my ! quest, to play for her.
of foreign perfection fur eight years !" " Oh, that Mr. Dunmoro could picture her 1
s youthful patience by a dried and withered spe- I
";Indeed, you are mistaken, lam not certain • cimen of.a governess. Though three years the' thus lovely upon the cauvass e " thought Isidore
that.l have seen this belle of yours—at least, as she watched. her beautiful cam niom who,
youngest, she was more ready than I in every 1 p,a
I have never seen her face " : branch of study, - which mamma alloweilher to' was leaning over the harp, lost inher own sweet
" e „ "'Well, you shall see her to night. The-la- -Her rounded and gleamed- out from
pursue, merely to gratify me. Music of course'
~ m ele ' lv.
dita.have heard of your arrival, and are on tip-' was • sleeve, like moulded: snow, as the
not included. But
.for this she had such!'" ' ailin g
toe to behold the wonderful Mr. Dunmore, thesmall fingers origin that lovely:hand swept over
a passion, and seemed so utterly wrapped up iri
po4 the painter, and the millionaire , "quivering egse like the : shade*, of a
e
"Few very flattering! returned Ernest,' share in my
' it, that I really felt erieved nut to have hers . the
fluttering ruse-leaf on 's, lily, the soft cider boy
smiting a quiet but perfectly satisfied smile, as lessons. She never said anything i
about it, but the tearswould start to her oves ered on her cheek ; and her bright, spiritual
ho turned to the mirror to arrange his toilet for, eyes were cast upward with a dreamy„ clear,
the evening. What gentleman possessing grace, when I left her for the practice room : ski, at
length. I persuadedl forgetful Irk, Its her bright lips trembled with
aecriplishments, intellect, and the adt antages sons too. Anal each a musical talent as she '
mamma to let her take les-
the rich gust of nuisiethnlling up .from a soul
of personal beauty and great fortune, would not
be little inclined toward a pleasant feeling has is really wonderful l—she Performs the most full! of beaut y and melody.
The two maidens were both so absorbed that
of I divinely on the harp of aey one I ever -heard !'
vanity? None, certainly e -at least, not Mr. , i they (lid not hear the ring of the door-bell, nor
taste dress ..
, Then shelties such an . exquisiteinv
Ernest Dunmore.
t
1,, was late in the evening when Hal Hezle- i I do not, pretend to exercise the least judgment, notice t",gentleman tvho stood, hat in hand,
ton bud his friend entered the brilliant and i with regard to the arrangement of, my ward_just inside the parlore It was Mr. Dutunare.
Hu too, was charmed into silence, and stood
crowded rooms of the Bentleys. A lady was ! rob she so far excels me in all such inatteri.
! ful for ki - '. mute and motionless till the last . quiver of the
• Then she is so sensitive,'so proud, yet so crate
at the piano. ,It was Miss Allen, and gen- - . ____ lharp died tiwae4 :and Isidore, perceiving Lim.
• . . _ . ily, she ie - . .
tlemen edged through the throng, and reached
the instrument just as the sweet voice of the
belle was trembling on • the concluding stanza.
She!. was certainly a beautiful creature, just
nindteen, with glorious dark eyes, Sweeping
lashes, an exquisite curved mouth and finely
chiseled features—a graceful form, too; but her
hand—a shade of disappointment darkened the
fine race of Ernest, it was a very pretty hand,
slender and tapering; but it was not the hand
—it could not wear such a glovt: •
'A radiant :tr—
HatA radiant' sreaturs ! isn't 'she r whispered
es she rose from the piano.
ilVery pretty;' was the disappointed reply.
4 ; Very pretty r was the rather indignant
eja4ulation,,stie is peerless, unequaled divine !"
',aut her hand. !" At this moment, the lady
turied toward 'theta, .and Hal presented his
friend, Mr, Ernest Dunmore i and soon the too
moat distinguished personages present—the
'bells pndthe artiet=millionaire—were promena
ding through the brilliant assembly, Ernest
foWld his bright .conspanion really bewitching.
I ,She4 woe wittAlearpekbrilliant, beautiful—he
rtioeld certainly have been fascinated, liad'it not
beeiliir the little 'kid kltive that 'wee' lying on
I his. jaeitrtand - tlie- perfect -little
,bend
.1i
the door-knob_ As i4,3lfaa. hia,l4egt
thrilled and Palpitated slightly, benfSh .its tiny
tresinure, and ha4tiltired twicaituritiminered
onettmrthe accomPlishe4)fr-t!PollinPe s
ieueuelly ~she
thightiiile:bsa madt.iv.4.ol4ed most
:~ ,~r ...
ail for kindness : Really she is quite ra won
der of -a dressing maid ! . I do believe if she
were to be brought out--despite the, advan
tages of -fortune—she would throvine quite
into the shade !" .
" That would be quite impossible, Miss Al
len. But do -you never introduce this fair,
wonder to your friends ?"!
"Ah, T see !" said the lady, laughin
0, t I
would like to get' aglimre it her rare '
Very well !—as you are an art*, andsit (Sig
so very much like this painting of :;y„;- t
.. ::3, : , , s ,:
: "c: tti.
will . huinor you, if possitle. ' But 'ate:lm itoo,
much native delicacy to ever yield , (411m3:iiiO,'
lieitations to appear in ',the parlor-.
have to bring her hero., Dlr. liaxleteriitilll
call for us to-morrow !", she said, as that - den-
tl er han approach - ed.' ' ,
" Certainly ;- I'shall Only feel too muCh hon
ored." And the three continued on their, way
rouhd the room. ' I '
MAPTZi '
The next day, is the Snowy fingers of Stel
wermwreathing, the Ldark hair of her
.intros ipto • *bitting Isidore saill."-
" I V O F4d SPEt.n9t .4 1 9 44i. the, exhibitiop-
Ow of our Pqwi4r,tiettis afterOoon,telll.77,
"Olt yes - very' Mud replied' the yofing
Nay o Steila; you just - tolobligis
me. There is a picture there' that Ladmiro
very' much, and I know yettivould love' to see'
,
lEEE
EMI
exclaimed„ laughingly
" Spell- bound, Mr. Dunmore?"
Stella started and blUsbed crimson, and rising
hastily, wduld have retreated from the; apart
ment, but Ernqst detained her by begging_ for
another so g. She recovered her sell,posses-
Aioa immediate, and-complied gracefully with
his request. • -
, :`;The evening passed tty delightfully. Ernest
;iyas a maul of r re aecOmplishments and.• inex-
Tianstiblexesou ces of Amusement and.iuforma
_
;
. _
- ,
sii . n. It Was the,fipt , foFiq, atella . hadeor met i am- happierriOiti - I,have . trt-,,‘n . foetlidiy - '-`yeirt,
with such a person• ' books 'and her own high Ito-day, my dlighter.• • HOTeu blesathastvilis
thoughts had been her only' companions. -It i bay,e,beeU, kiiift, tp you,'! Old 4.190ked Soso
, was no Wonder, then, Shut listening eagerly - to fully,',st XMAOM,..who ', ihillipm4; tOfice Out
every scout XI. his finit TAM tind, .drinking in 'bind': ' :'•• 1„ .."., . •
~, '. . - ' -•,. ,
f l
the enthusiasm of his soot* etyes, she forgot, '' .-4 1 L alW4i liiesr . Steilla'l4 - 24iii',ioildliiiiii
herself, her eirehmaispees, ill the sadness of ro ti ka u e ix 4: - .l' • .• ~.1: ,'+ : i l r .
ii2l, ' • ... - i.!'_' . P V-.
c ,
her life. - ;-# - ' . ' • ,-.“-And Am! wet- Muitigu -, issith, , &AM*
.:_ '
But she wasdoomed to ii• quick waking-from amid Alisi dm_ i . It- 4lcilseru Sild uorrt4C,
her dream ; Isi ore saw it ' al sad displeasure 3 , 9 w jobli,,,,,mr i tio, tom- Must Xs ~,,st, •
flashed from he
: eyes ".4 she, fiernsived,filint . alm Ernest Piiiiiii4e, `is ,liiiihasit VS,,,biio; ic in,
tri
wi;s - ri'veled by e sweet loveliness of the young the •eiiiis — g-'"iitid - iii‘ to Itidt I t Srnrlti i c_.,,, , ,‘ , * -- •
erphiti. • - - •,. ," If hoi4SriViesP it EibilOi'f:' . 0 111 ‘101
"Stella; you ay rstire 7 no i .she - sat l-tpu- tint .10;niftui l ow, t r ,,iiaik dropped
edy ,_ and . ki n •- v. -•,,, g. - 4 , 7:,..,:!'i ' “.:.:1 ."- ii - ;":-.1!..: ; 0C11*Ni:,14 , . t .. - ,,,t ,
~.i i 4,,,,., ~,,..,..,,,,,,,,..,. 'e.,..0k
~,,, iv poog rro**ri Em4 , 4 411 Y , P1 ,1 % :- . hut ; "-Oki' le* g : # ll ' ' - ' , 74 HOli
lig
She arose with he
_Feud di nit ot.likiqumm,, lefeWilift{itidlitS 1 - este 4 4 . . - i .. . ~
and hidding...M ...Dm/Moroi:volt, efining,. - 14 lealiadiag tete hiii:Sdfu*i ' ' Ai '_•••• '•,- •
4 181 ,4 3 argnent-: s.-1 .l'i- Ni' - f-- , ,0fe,-:., , ; 4 / 1.• - i r-, 4 "- , " 44 ' . 1:` MiltObeene.t i4 hiir ',- . ' .' ' 4 7 1 0 4' 4 4.
A flush ofi
~ ignit i l I*,o l,l 4#;s`o . o'4 l #la . t. ~,,f,T*O- 0 41, , Hbootiiii i v‘boik a
i l i
fprbead of Ern Ernest ill . s • 4114peitlid, ../ . 04" hii !ilk IC 1041 11 :-... . .• r_ ~f, ` - ' 4', 4 ,- 4 -, . .4, , i 4 ~,,,,f,
*sine bicai'iolt — it itivisimiiiiiiti' .' •' ' . u,goii,orsimu - igi-iinomobni,;.
„._..i:: ui,, ;q,..? , . !-Jidii.iii-43 , •Y ,N. fi:Ll ~ : ..i- ' :' -..'-',-''''. \- 4 ''-- - ' ,1.- -'''''' `.'''f, 's" ""'"-^' 7 "+.
- ,
.
1 Isidore 'saw she had
forgotten -her; position a
first time in lier life felt
to be gay and brilliant :
la few moments ben visa
1 • Who can tell theideei
orphan's heart, as she
couch and strove to he!
A cloud bad ever castil
happiness of that younfi
i cloud had buistin a wil
'threatened to ,antihilat :
1 she had , ever cherished.
treme, proud and delica
I and scorned before him
who had ever appreciat
1 her mother away to th ,
Long after midnight she
The next morning S
said nothing, though ha
and her famburnt with
reproached her With crW
an apology-would only
she told ',her kindly th
room if she was not w
ful to the orphan's hel,
CHAPT 11, Ir.
Three weeks passed way, and. Ernest Dun
more had called bat on eon the belle. 'HOpa r
less of ever winning his gar& she bad renew
ed her flirtation with 'Hazleton, for w :-
hom,
perhaps, after all, she - h
,dthei most atreotim,,K
1:1
he was not quite so dts . tfngut .
The Aliens were all out to. a bigliiii /Add
party. Stella bad gone-doWn to the dee s eittd
parlors, and seating lirself by the spleidai
centre-table, buried hOr face in - her haada.
Half an hour passed bil and she still sat Iwo-,
tionless, but by and by the Words struggled rip
from her aching heart, broken aid almost ineo-'.
herently— ,
" And this :is fate—mi fate—while Isidore is
so happy—cherished loped .1 worshipped , inn
b 5 him. Ok! lam so
very unhappy !" •
" Would 0 be loved, clieiisbed; irorihiplied;
.makkyou happy, dear Stella 7", said e •rich,
manly voice, in tones of thrilling teuderneet,“
an arm stole round her 4 and Bfted.her to
her feet:
.:'
" Einest murm a e . frigh r te ne
d
hiding her beautiful yo ng Face
" Stella! vision of my drOms radiant spirit..
love of mine Zbeautifuli embodiment of all the
I poet. or tho s painter eter ;yearned for I lam
thine—all thine !"
There was a hush through the lofty apart - -
ment, broken at last, b slow sob, 'eomikig ap
from a hart too full happiness. -
• CRAPT _ YL
Itt.WAS.--kbealAgflai4 C.4 oll 4‘b,AbillrAti!
sunlight and heavy wit Winne, where, eeci4.
. • .
sionally, the air floated • ov i er a dewy garden m
midst of the close populous _city. - There
was a wedding at the c ureb that inornftig,Vel
it was crowded with the elite, drawn thither
~ut of curiosity to get a, glimpse of tbe bridge
Earnest Dunmore, the millionaire: Elms ru
mored he bad chosen Mi s Allen's dressing maid
to be a partner of his ealth and acCompli&•
ments. There were ny miles, some sneers,
and still more wondering remarks. But they
were•all hushed-when the bridal party. entered
and walked up the, aisle. A. suppressed *ti
mer of admiration was all-tile sound, and every
eye was riveted to the rare loveliness Or the
bride's young face. Therawas no bashfulness,
no awkwardness to
,ridicule l —onlia
~beautiful
timidity, as. softening andas graceful as the
veil that floated round hei,,is she stood by the
side of her betrothed beforekhe alter: Isodiiie
Allen and Hal Hazleton were their-attendants.
The priest, in his clerical robes, stood up.and
commenced the ceremony, *hen they suddenly
thought—who should give the bride sway
At this important moment, a - noble-leolmig
man still in the prime of life, stepped - forward
and gave away—his daughter!.lt' warno
time for explanation, and
.the ceremony pre
ceeded.
Stella May was the wife qf Ernest:Dunmore.
The bride and groom iniinediately - cluinpd
placeswith kheir attendants, and 'the whole
fashionable world stared in Mute surprise as toe
good man pronounced Isidore Alleu andHazry
Hazleton man and wife.
"My daughter ! .Godbless you my Witi
ful child ! and may you he happy with year
young hearts choice !" andtthe stranger folded
Stella in his arms" and kisZed her white brow
fondly. •
Something told Stella it was indeed her.fa
ther, and, with an uncontrcillable impulse, she
w.ound her fair arms aroundihis neck and preii
ed her warm - lips to his cheek. •
" Stella 1 1 ,-; said Ernest, inaurprize, !!,pgimp
after.all, this is a, mistake 11
" Let thi's be the proot'l said the stranger,
•
taking a locket from hie bosom; coming
two miniatures—one, evidantly 'a likeneilkiif
himself, the other the very counterpart 4*
bride.
" Your mother looked l i ust as yon do now,
when I married her," said t r:"Mar, regarding
his bright daughter with e t et !liat d ivitliteibill
"But we parted in bittern, a, , an . wars
proud ; ; an& when ,T. repute,. an(' went mikencel k
i s
for her, she
.had gone nfi, kiew,liWitifer,,,, I
b l
have at last learned hei in, ninfa ',falai 'hiii I
I ' 1
I L. 'V, NO. 46.
H 4. a min -ate had
a JAY, and, for the
humbled. She strove,
Ibut,i'shefhSed, and in
• r left.
misery &soh&
threw herself On her
h its wild throbbing ?
dim shadow on the
;;
heart, and new' the
storm of angumbithat
erery flower - ot Shope
venntive to _mi
e, to be thus repOtsed
land by the enly:.(ne
d her since .they bOre ,
pauper's burial-place:
obbed herself to sleep. ,
ells, was ill. Butlbe
bead ached intensely,
fever.. Isidore s i hear*,
lty but she ItneWibit
deepen the wound, ao
t she might keep, , her
4olitude was grate-,
•
uttirly wrieehedso