a 66 Amid a good deal of bantering, however, the list was com- given your heart to another, and that I will not consent to pleted ; though I took good care not to let them see my writing. take an unwilling bride." The next morning I sought the shrubbery, hoping to meet “Heavens! that will be a fearful moment. I tremble at the Helen, and I was not disappointed. How beautiful she looked thought." as the morning sun beamed brightly on her fair brow, round “Then run away with Harry. I'll help you and take all the which her luxuriant hair hung in spiral ringlets. She had on blame." a simple wbite morning dress, a plain cottage bonnet and a “No, no," she said, shaking her head; “I cannot do that; shawl thrown loosely over her shoulders. If she had wished to it would pain my mother more than anything I could do ; and captivate me, instead of the reverse, she could not have chosen she has always been a kind, indulgent parent to me." a more becoming dress. " What is to be done, then ?” I had half determined in my mind to resign all pretensions Harry will be here shortly," sbe said, her pale cheeks glowto her hand. But then again I thought what right had I to do ing with a faint blush ; " had we not better consult him ?" so? I had no right, certainly ; but then I could not contem- “Most wise and provident cousin," I said, laughing : “I plate a girl of her delicate feeling being tied for life to such a think we had—perhaps he is not far off; had you not better go coarse fellow, without seeing that it would cause her a life's and see if you can find him ?” unhappiness. I knew that I had acted throughout this adven- She tripped off, and soon returned with Fielding. From his ture in the most unwarrantable manner ; but after due considera-excited manner it was evident Helen had told him all. He took tion I determined to run the risk, and do one good act and my hand, and shook it warmly, but joy seemed to have deprived make these two happy if I could not secure happiness for my- him of utterance. Joining their hands, I said, “Take her, Mr. self. Fielding; and may you prove worthy of such a treasure." “My dear cousin," I said, as soon as I met her, “I bave "Amen !” he said, emphatically; and Helen threw her arms made up my mind what course I ought to pursue in this affair, round him and sobbed on his shoulder. and I will be frank with you—I trust you will do the same by At this moment I was startled by the voice of Mrs. Rowcroft me. My window was partially open the other night and I over- saying, “Charles ! what is this I see ?" and turning round I saw heard some of your conversation. Who is the gentleman ?" my aunt pale with anger and surprise. “Harry Fielding." Helen," she said, very calmly;" go to your room and —” I thought as much ! You will pardon me if I ask you. Are “No, my dear aunt," I said, interrupting her ; " let Helen you married to him?" stay--I will explain.” “ No," she said, blushing. “Mamma!” exclaimed Helen, beseechingly. “Forgive me if I cause you pain by these questions ; but is I commenced very calmly by saying, "My dear aunt, we canbe an honorable man?'' not always command our affections-nature more often than ** Yes,” she said, with dignity; “ most unquestionably so.' not rebels against parental authority. Helen has placed her “ Has your mamma any objection to him beyond that of your affections on another, and I am in a similar position. Would engagement with me?” you make us both unhappy ? No, I am sure your heart is too “None whatever." good for that. After due deliberation, I have resigned my pre“Have you anything more you wish to confide in me?" tensions to the hand of Helen ; and, all that is wanting to ' Nothing-you know all.” cro "n the earthly joys of a daughter who truly loves you, is " Then I shall release you from your engagement; and you your blessing on their union.” may tell Mr. Fielding that he will find no enemy in me; but on I saw that sbe was much moved ; and she covered her the contrary, I will be your active and faithful ally." face with her hands. I therefore said, solemnly, “Ah! my “Dear, good Charles! generous man, in thus releasing me, dear aunt, if my dear uncle's spirit could now be present with you have given me back my life. God has heard my prayers us, I doubt not but he would give them bis blessing.” How I prayed that you might hate me.” “What will your father say ?—he alone can release me from “ Then your prayers have not been heard, for I love you very this engagement." sincerely ; but although perhaps you do not suspect it, I love "Leave that to me. I am of age, and therefore can judge your sister better.” for myseif, and I refuse to carry out this engagement. Our afHelen seized my hands, exclaiming, “ You have removed a fections we cannot bestow at the will of parents. You, I am load from my heart. How shall I ever be able to show my gratitude ?" “By not divulging to any one the secret I bave now confided to you." “Never !" she said, emphatically. I experienced an ineffable pleasure, greater, in fact, than I can describe, in thus making these two lovers happy, that more than jecompensed me for the risk I ran. The only thing that marred my joy was the thought that perhaps the real Simon Pure might come and topple down the whole fabric I had so ingeniously built. What a position I had placed this poor girl in! Was I warranted in thus raising hopes that might be crushed in a day, and ber position rendered more painful if the blow should fall ? Alas! these reflections came, like all mine, too late ; the wheel was now in motion, and I could not stop it. When the first rush of feeling was over, Helen turned to me and said, “How shall I break tbis to my mother? She considers the fulfilment of this engagement as the last dying request of my father, and with her his wishes are sacred." “Leave that to me; I will set off immediately and leave a letter cancelling our engagement.” “Oh, no! do not think of such a thing ; you are already a great favorite with mamma ; and if any one can persuade her to consent it is you." " Then let us go to her at once and confess all. I will tell her that I have discovered "that you have THE CONFESSION. CHAPTER VI. ! sure, will not mar your daughter's happiness for life ; and I am “Then it was an act of incendiarism ?" sure my father will consent." “Oh, no," said Mrs. Barnes ; "it was a hoax." Helen, who, with that quick instinct that women possess, saw “ A hoax !" exclaimed my aunt; “I thought you said it was that her mother was swayed by conflicting emotions, threw her- a fire." self at her feet, and sobbed convulsively. Mrs. Rowcroft was a “Why, no," interrupted Mrs. Barnes; “I told you it was woman of tender feeling, and she, too, burst into tears, and, not the fire, but the water that did all the mischief. Poor Mrs. raising her daughter from the ground, clasped her to her Stubbington was nearly suffocated by it, and the uproar bosom. frightened Mrs. Ashley so much, that she was confined this While mother and daughter were mingling their tears, I was morning at three o'clock; and Goody Blackman sprained her somewhat infected with the same complaint; and when Mrs. ankle going to see it. But the magistrates meet to-morrow to Rowcroft took Helen's hands, and placed them in Fielding's, investigate the affair, so we shall soon get to the bottom of the at the same time giving them her blessing, I don't expect his mystery." eyes were particularly dry. I had a strong inclination to clasp All this did not argue well for a peaceful dénouement to our Mrs. Rowcroft to my heart, and hug her, too, but my modesty last night's frolic. I began to see that we had placed ourselves prevented me. The old lady looked so happy, that I confess I in an awkward position, and wished myself well out of it. never was so sorely tempted to kiss a lady of fifty either before :. or since. What a day of happiness was this ! Frank threw up his cap E are going over to see our old in the exuberance of his joy, and wondered what on earth they friend, Mr. Ransome, nephew," could all see to cry about. Julia was much agitated when her said Mrs. Rowcroft, as soon as breakmother told her of the éclaircissement; but a sweet smile fast was over ; “ will you go? I struggled through her tears, as the sun through the showers of should be pleased for you to make April, when her mother spoke of my conduct in the affair. Mrs. Rowcroft certainly did not throw a veil over my merits ; on his acquaintance ; he's an excellent man, and truly amiable." the contrary, I am afraid she was rather extravagant in her Judge of my embarrassment at praise; and Helen called down blessings on my bead till I was this proposal. I did not know what to positively ashamed of myself. The consciousness that, how say. However, one thing was certain, I ever questionable my conduct really was, and however it might could not go with them to visit my ancle ; hereafter act on myself and my passionate love for Julia, I • so I stammered out an excuse, saying I could not be charged with selfisbness ; and that two persons at must decline the honor, as I had to write least would have cause to bless my visit, made me feel that to my father. come what would, I should never repent my share in the transaction. “Oh, you can leave that till we come Helen was now altogether a different person. She seemed to back," said Julia. “I must insist on your have lost that weight of care which had hitherto held in check going, for we have to cross the river ; and I may perhaps require the flow of joyous mirth which was natural to her. your assistance again." We were visited shortly after breakfast by the Barnes's—the “Indeed, my dear cousin, I must refuse. Another time I Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and wo daughters whom I had Grecianized shall be most happy." over night to Julia's discomfort and annoyance. Julia pouted, and the rest expressed their disappointment; Mrs. Barnes, or, as she delighted to be called, the rector's but nevertheless I succeeded, and they all started, leaving me lady, was one of those persons who, when they have anything alone in my glory. to communicate, never rest till they have found some one into The day flew on. I was in such a dreamy state of happiness whose ear they can pour the secret which they are dying to re- that I forgot the abyss that yawned before me; I could not get veal., On this particular occasion Mrs. Barnes's visit had a two- up my heart to tear myself away from the society of her I fold object. She had heard of my arrival, and was dying to see loved ; I dare not think of what might, and probably would be what sort of a creature I was, so that she might communicate the end of this adventure. The bright star of hope beamed on the result of her examination, with a full account of my per- me, and notwithstanding the daily peril I must encounter if I sonal appearance, and sundry comments thereon, to all the stayed, something seemed to tell me that all would yet end families of her acquaintance; and also to give my aunt a full well. and particular account of tŁe great hoax which had been played I was seated in the library in the afternoon, when a servant off on the united villages of Rodington and Hingham. entered, and requested me to step down, as there was a gentleThe first thing after the mutual salutations bad been got man jnst arrived, who was making a great disturbance in the through, Mrs. Barnes asked my aunt if she had heard of the hall; and he thought he was either deranged or intoxicated. great fire last night. I cannot exactly describe my feelings when I entered the No," said Mrs. Rowcroft ; “ where was it?" dining-room, to see the verita'le cousin Charles seated before "A most extraordinary thing ! --a most scandalons affair !" me. His face was flushed, his dress disordered, and he showed said Mrs. Barnes. all the signs of being in an advanced state of inebriation. Any Frank and I exchanged glances. one could have knocked me down with a feather. I felt, how“How did it occur?'' asked my aunt. ever, that now the tug of war was come, and that I must either “It was occasioned by two gentlemen riding through the put on a bold front, or be driven ignominiously from the house. village. I suppose they called themselves gentlemen," she I therefore, assuming a severe and dignified countenance, said, said, emphatically ; "but I should call them blackguards." "Well, my friend, what is your pleasure ?" “Dear me, it's very singular," replied Mrs. Rowcroft; "did “Halloo ! old fellow," he exclaimed, in a somewhat init do much damage ?" articulate manner, “what are you doing here?” “Oh dear, yes! it resulted in the total destruction of Mrs. “And what are you doing here in this state ?" I said, evading Stubbington's flower garden, and nearly killing the poor woman his question ; "you surely would not present yourself before herself." Mrs. Rowc oft in your present condition ?'' “I hope her life is not in danger," said Frank, with some “ Present condition !" he exclaimed ; “ you haven't the imalarm. pudence to tell me I'm drunk, have you ?” "Oh, no! She's quite recovered now; but Dr. Vial said it “ You certainly are not far off from it; and my advice to you was a wonder she was not poisoned." is, to make your exit from this house before your aunt returns." “Poisoned !" exclaimed Frank. I felt that my only chance was to get him away while he was "Yes," said Mrs. Barnes, with disgust ; " and all through drunk, and then deal with him afterwards ; but he did not seem those horrid fellows that rode so furiously through the inclined to move. village." “I sha'n't do anything of the kind," he said, doggedly ; “Who were they?" asked Mrs. Rowcroft. "I don't care a"Ah! that's what everybody wants to know; but they'll be “Come, come,” I said, interrupting him ; "you shall not caught—the constables are after them." swear in my presence." son. * And pray who are you that you talk to me in that peremp GEMS OF THOUGHT. tory manner p! “I am a friend of the family. Mrs. Rowcroft is out, and as When a cunning man seems the most bumble and subniissive, such I take upon myself to do that which I consider necessary he is often the most dangerous. Look out for the crouching to prevent her being disgraced in the eyes of her servants." tiger. He was as obstinate as a donkey, and would not listen to rea- “Fit words are better than fine ones. -Oven Felham. I was sinking with nervous excitement, expecting every " Whoso trusteth ere he know, minute that Mrs. Rowcroft would return. However, I deter Doth hurt himself and please his foe."-Sir T. Wyatt. mined to make one grand effort before I gave up, and therefore “ Shame is a good step to amendment, and a blush the first walking up to him, and looking at him sternly, I said : color that virtue takes."-Bishop Hopkins. "I don't want to have any disturbance in the boyse, and “ It is good discretion not to make too much of any man at therefore I hope you will go quietly. If not,” and I fixed my the first; because one cannot hold out that proportion.”—Lord eyes on bim, “I shall be under the disagreeable necessity of Bacon. using force. Don't interrupt me," I said, “but listen.” It Prosperity too often has the same effect on a Christian that was the effect of a strong will on a weak mind, for he quailed a calm sea has on a Dutch mariner, who frequently, it is said, under my glance, and I proceeded. “Mrs. Rowcroft is unused in those circumstances, ties up the rudder, gets drunk, and goes to such scenes, and if you were to insist on remaining in your to sleep."-Bishop Horne. present state she would never forgive you ; therefore the “He that judges aright, and perseveres in it, enjoys a per: greatest kindness I can do you is to insist on your returning to petual calm-he takes a true prospect of things; he observes the village, and remaining till the morning. The inn is a very an order, measure and decorum in all bis actions. He has a good one-you will see the propriety of tbis, I'm sure." benevolence in his nature-he squares his life according to He listened stupidly to all I said, and then grunted out, reason, and draws to himself love and admiration.”-Seneca. “Well, as you like. I suppose it's best—I don't think I'm COMMON SENSE.—"To act with common sepse according to exactly right. I feel dreadfully bilious." the moment is the best wisdom I know ; and the best philoHe rose and walked to the door, saying, “ I'm not exactly sophy, to do one's duties, take the world as it comes, submit right, I know; but I'm not drunk !" respectfully to one's lot, bless the goodness that has given us so "No one has said you were,” I replied; "only I should not much happiness with it, whatever it is, and despise affectalike your aunt to see you until you are better. You go down tion.”—Horace Walpole. to the inn, and I will come to you in the evening." Thus I managed to get rid of him quietly ; but now what was to be done? I had only freed myself of him for a time, some INTERESTING STATISTICS. thing must be done to get rid of him altogether. I had re. solved, come what might, he should not return. I did not care so much for myself, I thought more of Helen, so I turned the the subject of much discussion in Germany ; so much so, in It appears that the principles of temperance have lately been matter over in my mind, and after half an hour's cogitation Ideed, that some of the States of the German Confederation deformed my plan. I had made up my mind that this fat cousin termined no longer to permit strong drinks to be dispensed to was a great coward, and I determined to act on Fielding's plan, the soldiers. Instead of this, they ordered that the money and if I could not get rid of him any other way, to challenge him. Not that I had any idea of going out, or shooting him. formerly spent in drink should in future be expended in an extra allowance of substantial food. It was very desirable to I was confident he would not stop for that. Never in my eyes did any one look more lovely than did Julia know what was the result, and it was ordered that the most exact statistical calculations should be made to prove what, when she returned from her ride. The bright color which since the change, had been the sanitary condition of the tinged her cheek, and the roguish twinkle of her eye, as she in soldiers. sisted on my telling her all I had been doing in her absence, added to her loveliness, as well as to the interest she excited in been deprived of strong drinks were the inhabitants of towns, It is necessary to say, that the greater part of those who had my breast. of a constitution less strong and inured to fatigue. The soldiers My position was peculiarly awkward ; I could not answer her to whom they continued to distribute large quantities of strong question truthfully, and I did not want to tell an untruth. Matters were assuming a very serious aspect, and in the event from the country, and yet it was proved that the sanitary state drink were for the most part strong laborers or woodcutters of their going wrong, I did not want to make them worse, and was as follows: thus throw away my only chance of happiness. I therefore said, in an off-band manner, that I had received a visit from a friend out of 3,600 men, there were 82 sick, 1 out of 44 ; Mecklenburg, Corps to whom strong drinks were distributed : Holstein, who was passing through the village, and that I had thus been out of 3,580 men, there were 82 sick, 1 out of 44; Oldenburg, prevented from writing to my father. " Why did you not ask him to stop? I should have been de- oat of 718 men, there were 24 sick, 1 out of 29 ; Hanover, out lighted to have welcomed your friend,” said Mrs. Rowcroft. of 13,054 men, there were 284 sick, 1 out of 46. Corps to whom strong drinks were not distributed : Bruns"Many thanks, my dear aunt. I should have taken the wick, out of 2,096 men, there were 18 sick, 1 out of 116; Oldenliberty of inviting him, but the truth is, he's not quite right burgh, out of 281 men, there were 47 sick, 1 out of 60; Hanse here,” I said, touching my head, "and is not fit company for Towns, out of 2,190 men, there were 14 sick, 1 out of 156. ladies- very eccentric indeed !" The writer who collected these facts ends with these words : “ Poor fellow !" she said ; "what was the cause of it?" “ After examples so decisive, and the testimony of superior “Oh, some sort of fever." officers who have made analogous observations, there remains (To be continued) nothing to add.” 1 LITTLE TROUBLES. – What are styled the “ little troubles of JUGGERNAUT's HOUSEHOLD.--The establishment” connected life," are the hardest to bear. One can nerve himself up with with the great temple of Juggernaut, in India, is immense. It heroism for a great trial, but the mosquitoe-like annoyances of includes thirty-six different kinds of officers, some of whom are every hour, for which unfeeling natures have no word of sym- subdivided into several more. About 340 persons are required pathy, and which they cannot understand so long as the to fill the appointments, a few of which are the following: sufferer has something to eat, are what fill churchyards and The one who puts Juggernaut to bed; the one who wakes him; make so many homes desolate. Happy are they whose little the one who gives him water and a toothpick ; the painter to tronbles find that sympathy out of which grows strength to paint his eyes ; an officer to give him rice, and another to give endure, and whose hearts are not ground to powder by the him pan ; one to wash his linen; one to couut his robes : one rough heel of indifférence and insensibility. to carry his umbrella ; and one to tell him the hours of worship. Many a seeming farce played on the great stage of the world Besides these, there are 4,000 cooks, 120 dancing girls, and is in reality a tragedy, if we could but see into the heart of it. 3,000 priests, many of whom are exceedingly rich. MONSTER STEAM PLOUGH, FOR THE REMOVAL OF SNOW. MONSTER STEAM PLOUGH, FOR THE REMOVAL down the grade at Franklin, New Hampshire, that he made a OF SNOW. sketch of the interesting incident. In consequence of the heavy drift it became impossible where ONE of the greatest enemies of railroad travel in all porthern it was lined with high banks to make much progress ; but after countries is snow, which by drifting accumulates so as to bury a time, where the grade is on a descent, the plough moved with the tracks beneath a mountain avalanche. The most successful an irresistible force, which sent the snow flying before it, first -indeed, where it is in large quantities, the only means to in straight lines and then upwards in a serpentine form, the snow “clear the track,” is the machine called a steam plough. But rolling over like wbite billows of a storm-tossed ocean. Someeven this is sometimes powerless against the silent resistance times, however, the resistance was too much for it, and the of the obstruction. In New Hampshire the railroads are fre- steam plough stopped, the wheel spinning round with a hopequently subjected to these stoppages, and on a recent occasion, less impotency. The mountains in the backgrouod are the when one of our special artists was on his way from the north, White mountains, so called whether they are covered with snow he was so much struck by the monstrous steam plough going I or verdure. heard of her father's death in Australia." That was all-she HOME. scarcely looked at me, and left tbe room. Miss May said no thing; she seemed thinking of my French reading, which had THERE is a chord in every heart been interrupted. She looked on to see how far we were from Awaken'd by one word alone, the end of a chapter, put a mark in and closed the book, and I A word we think of when we part sat with my one dream of hope all crushed. I should never A little word-we call it “ Home." have any one to love me, never! I did not cry. I only sat there quite stupified. I remember bow cold my hands wereHome is a spot we ne'er forget, how cold I felt all over, and how hard and dry my tongue was ; Though many years have passed away, the feeling of wretchedness is as fresh now as then. At last Since on that spot we've stood, and yet Miss May said, “How old was your father, Susan ?" I did not It seems as 'twere but yesterday. know. “What part of Australia was he in ?" My aunt had never told me. Strange," she said ; “ you are old enough to 'Twas there our happiest hours were spent ; take an interest in everything relating to him, but you are such 'There childhood's sweet but fleeting dream, That dream of innocence, was dreamt an odd child." The innocence was but a dream! I suppose she thought I felt none; but I could not speak and tell her all I felt. She wrote some letters, and I put away my The innocence we dreamt away, lesson books, and shut the pianoforte, and looked out of the 'Tis guilt alone that now remains ; window, and arranged the books in the bookcase. I remember Ah! that we could but dream away, how the third volume of Rollin's Ancient History had a bit Like innocence, those guilty stains ! torn off the top, and the sixth volume bad lost the label where the name was. I put them in order as the volumes came, and Home is a port, from which to steer then I looked out of the window again, and listened to Miss May's pen as it scratched on the paper. The clock struck eleven. I could not go on in this way till two. Miss May thought it would not be right for me to go Home is a place which we may treat out, but she would ask my aunt. Just as she was preparing to With cold contempt and withering sneers ; leave the room, my aunt entered. The question was asked, Yet 'tis the place to which our feet and received a negative. I thought if I had something to Will trace their steps in after years. do that I disliked very much it would be a relief-something that I must give my attention to ; and I ventured to say, And when again we view the spot, “Might I do some of my lessons, aunt-only my grammar and There's not a look, a word, a tone, Our hearts will then remember not sums ?'' Which speaks of youth, and breathes of home! I had just got to prepositions in Murray, and Miss May told me I was to learn the list that is in bis grammar. She said it The sight of home will cause a tear would be useful to me all my life-I should always know a preTo dim the eye ; and when we speak, position when I came to it. I know that list by heart now. I The voice will falter ; as we near never hear the sound of a preposition, or think of grammar, Our slighted home, the heart will break. without remembering : Above Το Beneath Without Below Over From With Beyond. Through And my sums. I was in Practice, and hated it; but at the en my heart would be a relief. My aunt said, “Susan, I wish He casteth forth His ice-like morsels. Who is able to abide His frost ?" you could show a little feeling, even if you actually have none. PLAIN-very plain-I knew I was—I was always told so. From How could you think of going on as usual to-day with your orthe time I can remember anything, I remember hearing my dinary lessons ?”' aunt's maid say, “ It doesn't matter what Miss Susan wears, On the Saturday my black frock was finished, and on the nor how I do her hair ; she'll never do me no credit, nor no one Sunday I went to church with my aunt. My aunt was in black else, never.” I don't know if she intended me to hear it, or too. When I was dressed ready to go to church, I beard Wilcared much whether I did or not : but I remember the morti- son say to the housemaid, " I never saw Miss Susan look worse fied feeling it gave me, even in childbood: the feeling I had no --did you, Jane?-and to think it's the best bon bazine and one to love me, no one to look at me, no one to say a kind the best crêpe. Miss Danvers needn't have been 30 handsome word to me. I could remember no one but my aunt ; I re- to her for all the good it does." member asking her if I had a father and mother, like James and Another long gap in my memory, and then a bright gleam Nelly, the gardener's children ; and she answered, "Your mo- to cheer me. My aunt told me my cousin, Harry Danvers, was ther was dead, child, when your father brought you to me, and coming to stay at the Heath ; he had just lost bis mother. I your father is in Australia." could remember Harry, and his tall gentle-looking mother, I was so glad to think I had a father still; and often in the who had smiled and spoken softly to me, and how slowly she long evenings, when I had done my lessons, and was sitting at went up-stairs with her hand on her side, and how she coughed my work, I used to hope and long he would some day come when she reached her room. And so she was dead-like my bome and claim me. He would love me I was sure. I never father-and Harry was coming to us. doubted that; he would put his hand on my head, and call me He came one very wet evening in November. How gloomy his little Susan. I comforted myself with that hope when I was it was! the rain falling heavily on the dead leaves. It had lying awake with the toothache-oh, so many dark nights! I rained steadily all day, and almost the last of the leaves had was about ten then. fallen under the incessant dropping, and everything was black I remember nothing pårticular for two years after that. It and dismal. seems like a great gulf between the time I learnt I had a father Harry arrived in a car from Horeham, quite wet. He had and the day when my aunt came into my schoolroom. She taken off his great coat and hat in the hall, but his hands were looked more grave and cold than ever, I thought, and she held wet and cold, aad the drops clinging to his light hair. My a black-edged letter in her hand. aunt advanced kindly, very kindly for her, and kissed him. "Susan must stop her lessons, if you please, Miss May, this ** Susan, take him to the school-room and give bim a cup of morning,” she said ; "I have bad news for her. I have just hot tea, and then let him go to his room and change his we For |
