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“Perhaps I can assis: 7.1," I answered. “I am However fat may be, I brought the Tennyson, “Send Miss Louise Chandler hither," he said. familiar with the library."
escorted to the door, received a delicious little Then, turning to me, added"From her own lips “Oh! for that matter, 80 u.nl. However, if you bow, and is left over head and ears in love.
you shall hear your fate." have a fancy, you can get m2 Tennyson's smaller At dir. r that day, I was on thorns to inquire of In a few moments-awful mements to me-Louise poems. I don't want the Princess. I dislike it." Mr. Ans about his beautiful niece, but when din- entered. Her uncle motioned her to a seat.
So saying, she sank into the chair I had just quit- ner was bout half over, he saved me all the trouble, “Louise," he began, “my friend Mr. Howard ted with the most exquisite air of coquetry. Pre-| by sayir ,,—
Gaskell has just done us the honor of proposing an vious to going in search of the Tennyson, however,
“ You met my niece to-day ?"
alliance between our families. He says he loves I took a good long look at her. She was about “ Yes, sir. In the library," was my hurried re- you sincerely, and offers you his hand. Will you nineteen. Fair, with a petite nez retrousset, and sponse.
accept it ?" golden curls hanging in grest profusion about her
“How did you like her ?"
“I refuse Mr. Howard Gaskell,” said Louise, in a face. A little bit of a rosy, expressive, pursed-up
“ Like-like-like her, did you say?"
measured and deliberate tone. mouth, and the most exquisite hand I ever saw.
“Yes. How did you like her?"
“ Guod heavens !" I cried, springing from my “Sir, I think her charming." « Well,” she said, “I see I shall have to go and
seat ; you do not mean what you say. You surely look for Tennyson myself,” looking at me from
“Hum! I'm glad to hear it,” and as he spoke, a have given me some indications of an affection for head to foot, as I stood, very like a fool, gazing at queer kind of grave smile fitted over his face. “By me.” her with all my might and main.
the way,” he continued," she's rather a strange kind "I cannot accept your complimentary offer, sir.” of girl, and wants cultivation. Suppose you take
What have I done! God knows I “Oh! pardon me,” I crie:!, rushing instantly her in hand ?”
love you devotedly, and it was horrible cruelty in into a state of great haste ; " you shall have it in a
“ Me! Mr. Anson. Me! I-I should not be you to feed my hopes, only to kill them with this remoment. I know the very spot where it is. Are you equal to such an undertaking.”
fusal. Cruel-cruelfond of Tennyson ?"
“ Pooh! nonsense.
" Howard, be calm : there perhaps is something “Oh! passionately," she cried, clasping her
and she should study tegether, for I have no doubt that may be explained,” said Mr. Anson, gently laylittle hands together, in a sort of childish enthusiasm. but that in the matter of acquiring knowledge, as in ing his hand on my shoulder. “Even when I don't understand him, I love him.” all others, two heads are better than one."
Louise, why do you refuse Mr. Gaskell's “ Yes,” said I, “his subtlety of expression is re
“Well, sir, I am sure I have not the slightest ob-hand ?" markable. No poet ever lived who was so successful in his ehoice of words. Tennyson's language seems jection ; but the young lady_"
“ Because he refused mine."
“Oh! the young lady will be delighted at such I started, as if I had been shot. as if it grew upon the thoughts." an opportunity of plaguing some one."
" I swear before Heaven—" I began. " That's a very pretty saying you have just ut
I really could not help thinking Mr. Anson a bit Hush, hush !” said she, while I could discern a tered,” said she, looking up into :'y face with so
oi a fool, for the coolness with which he contem- sort of half-smile twinkling in her eyes. “You had innocent an air, that I couldn't pos": ly tell whether
pluied such a dangerous intimacy between a young a cousin, had you not, whom your father wished you she were quizzing me or not. “A you clever ?"
man and a young girl. He surely could not contem- to marry ?" " Very!" I replied gravely. " in fact I am pro: plate making a match between us, for I was penni
Certainly ; butbably the most talented individual of the present
less, and she was doubtless rich. The whole thing “ Precisely. I am she. You refused me. I have century." “ Like all clever people, then, I suppose you have puzzled me. However, my principle was generally just refused you. We are quits; and being quits,
to take things as they come, and in another week there need be no enmity between us. Shake got your faults." “I assure you, I haven't a fault in the world. I'm with an ardor that the most enthusiastic student, Louise and I were pursuing our studies together, hands.”
She came forward, and held out her little hand, perfect."
previous to his first college examination, would have while Mr. Anson chuckled as he turned to look out “ No, you're not. I know one of your faults."
applauded. The consequences may be easily guessed. of the window, like a well-bred man as he was. I “ You! Name it." “You break your promises."
In two months from the day of that never-to-be-for- took the hand in mine. “How so? I never, in all my
gotten interview in the library, two gentlemen were “May I keep it ?" I whispered.
conversing gravely within its sombre precincts. One “ This time I suppose I may say, yes,” she an“ Hush, hush! you did though. You promised
was Mr. Anson ; the other was your humble ser- swered, with a look of, mingled love and mirth. to get me Tennyson, and you've been standing in
But,” said I, “the reason why I refused you beone spot ever since, talking to me, without even
“Yes !" said Mr. Anson, in reply to an observa- fore was, that my cousin, Jim Smith, told me that thinking of
tion of mine, the tenor of which you will gather from you were hideous.” "Anything but you," I interrupted.
his answer. “ Yes ! certainly your prospects aro " Your cousin, Jim Smith, my dear Howard, had could I ?" not brilliant. Your father has cast you off, and your a very good reason for telling you so.
It is less than “ My uncle, sir, does not allow me to receive com- income is $1200 a year. Now, Louise Chandler has two months since I refused him." pliments.”
$200,000, and might look higher.” Her uncle! Ha! then she was Mr. Anson's
I then learned, for the first time, that all the events
“But I am young, and will work, Mr. Anson. which I had attributed to chance, were in reality nieco. How came it that I never saw her before ? Fortunes are to be made here every day. Why may planned by my father, who had never lost sight of Where did she hide herself? or was she only just not I be one of the lucky ones ?" arrived!
It was he who had pointed me out to Mr. An“ Fortunes are very seldom made without capital, son, and it was by his desire that he offered me an “ Your thoughts must be pleasant ones," she said, smilingly; "they engage your attention so long."
my dear boy. That you would soon find out to be a asylum in his house. All the poverty I had suffered,
melancholy truth. Have you asked Louise her- he intended as a lesson to me, and it has been one. “I was just thinking how it was I never saw you
Louise was induced to come on a visit to her uncle's, “ Nothing simpler. I have my own suite of
" Why, not exactly. I thought it would be more without knowing that I was there, and it was not rooms, and very
seldom conie into my uncle's terri- honorable to speak to you first. I think, however, until her preference for me was unmistakeable, that tories." that she likes me.”
the secret was entrusted to her that I was the rebel• You will not always be so abstemious, I trust." "Well, then, Howard my boy, if you can get her lious cousin who refused to have her. In short, I
“ Cela depend. Get me my Tennyson. Go, sir, consent, you have mine. I have been much pleased was a victim of the most charming series of plots ; instantly. I command y 'u."
with your steady conduct while you have been here, and when I tell you that they ended with my recon“I fly.”
and have no doubt but that we shall be able to get ciliation with my father, and my marriage with I think I heard hos mutter something about you into some kind of business.”
Louise, I will have told you all I know about how it goose," ." and wings ;:* nut I will not be certain.
BL O OD!
The sun is obscured by clouds of deepest black, the deep-toned thunder rolls along the vaulted sky -the lightning flashes with intense ardor. The air is impregnated with a horrible smell of brimstone.
We are standing on a ledge of rock. At our feet is stretched a wide expanse of grassy plain upon which the foot of man has seldom trod. The hairy, long-maned terrific buffalo is grazing calmly and peacefully in the far distance—just below us rove untrammelled the tamo kine belonging to the owner of the little cottage, the smoke from whose roof curls gracefully above the summits of those sturdy oaks.
We are in the wilderness!
But man is hero!
Yes, the foot of man has trod these wilds! He has reared, afar from his usual haunts, an unpretending habitation. He has retired from the places he once joyfully filled to the solitude of the untracked wilderness!
The thunder roars louder! the lightning flashes fiercer ! The kine moan more mournfully! The buffalo starts in greater affright ! all nature in this particular portion of the country for many miles round is convulsed, and groans in unprecedented agony! Torrents of rain begin their descent to the bosom of the earth! Look again!
[TURKISH A R A BA.] A single horseman comes over the plain. He is dressed in pants very roughly made of the skin of a deer, through which his feet protrude. Those grievously, and irremediably wronged! Last night (their already terrific speed! On! on! they fly feet are covered with heavy boots. A jacket, a fiend in human shape, calling himself a man, came with the swiftness of
ated birds, or manufactured of a material with which we are to my house in a coach and four, and robbed me of of a biped who is conscious that the sheriff with his compelled to confess ourself totally unacquainted, my daughter! I ask you (and I want a categori- posse comitatis is behind! Trees, rocks, and various encases his upper extremities. A broad-brimmed cal response), by all your hopes of happines here, other things peculiar to woody regions of the hat crowns the head, and completes the catalogue and of salvation" hereafter, have the wretched pair country, rush by. of his wearing apparel. It is possible he may passed this way?"
On ! on ! on ! have a shirt and vest on, but his jacket is buttoned " Don't know !” was the churlish reply of the Let us look inside. closely up to his chin, so that we could not, in owner of the cottage, as he slammed the door in the What do we see? justice to our conscience, safely depose that he is horseman's coutenance.
On the back seat in the right hand corner sits a possessed of two articles so much esteemed in later
The horseman again mounted his gallant steed. man of some thirty-five years of age. That he has days.
Determination was portrayed in every line of his been supereminently beautiful in his youthful days, Hark once more !
visage. He rode like the avant-courier of a whirl- no one possessed of the smallest particle of discrimiThe voice of the single horseman, as he rides with wind through the forest !
nation can doubt, for although his countenance bears the speed of the wind, is heard above all the tremen
impressed upon it the footsteps of time—although dous roaring of the storm! He speaks but two And through the giant trees, bending low be the end of his nasal promontory has disappeared, words, but those two words he repeats, in the mean- neath the blast, comes a mournful voice, seeming to probably in some street fight—although one of his time shaking his fist madly! cry
ears has, at some previous period, taken its de“ Cuss him! Cuss him !"
parture from his head without leaving the smallest Look once more !
trace of its having ever existed; and although he The single horseman ceases his headlong speed
has lost, his left eye and six or eight of his front at the door of the cottage. He dismounts and EH
teeth, yet to admirers of his class of features he kicks heavily against the door.
The A carriage and four fly along the edge of a dense would still appear positively handsome. His dress hoad of a man pops out. He questions the horse- forest! The driver ever and anon applies the lash is that of peculiar style known in the fashionable
emphatically to the backs of the panting steeds ! world as seedy. “ What do you want ?"
They are endowed with feeling, and show conclu- b Reclining upon the other seat, with her head “Sir,” replied the horseman,“ I have been deeply, I sively that they understand the signal by increasing gently reposing in his lap, is a maiden of thirty
my pa !"
years. Nothing less graceful and dignified than the The enraged parent has split his skull spang to
Contributed to the Illustrated N, Y. Journal. pencil of a Sully could begin to do her the meanest his chin!
THE HAUNTED BED. sort of justice. Our feeble pen would shed its last One moment the victor stands gazing at his vandrop of ink in the attempt to place her adequately quished foe. The next, he slowly draws the other WAR was declared ! before our readers—but in vain! The beauty of the pistol from his pocket, sticks the muzzle into his being before us is of that character which intoxi- ear, and cuts loose. He drops !
The boys in number six vowed they would no cates the brain and renders words utterly powerless! The entire contents of his brain-pan are blown out ? longer bear the insolence of number eight. These Let us pause !
And where is the carriage ?
were the two largest sleeping rooms in the schoolOn! on! on!
The horses, having taken fright at the horrible house where I boarded in the days when my face
clashing of swords, have run and jumped off the was not yet bronzed by travel, when my legs were Dearest Josey," murmured the fair maiden in a low voice, the music of which showed plainly that nearest precipice, which happens to be a little more considerably shorter, and my luxuriant beard as yet she would have attained high distinction as a street than twelve hundred feet high. Horses, carriage an invisible dream. I was thirteen, and the oldest
and maiden are smashed! crier of wares—"Dearest Josey, I fear, oh! I fear
boy in the room except Slokins, who was sixteen,
Look for the last time! the rage of my pa when he finds out that I've gone
though you would never have thought it to look at
In the forest lie three dead bodiesand run away! Oh, Josey, dear, I fear the rage of
him, for he was the shortest boy in our class, and the The Father, the Lover, the Driver!
stupidest. However, he was a very good fellow,
At the foot of the rocks lie five dead bodies“Calm yourself, sweet Sukey," was the answer
and ready enough for anything but fighting.
The Maiden and four horses ! of the gentleman, in a soothing tone, "am 1 not
Our room was on the top floor of the house, so we here? Sooner than I would resign thee I would
resolved to have a grand bolstering campaign, and heroically place my little finger on the headsman's
And again the voice comes mournfully through as a preliminary measure I proposed that sɔmebody block! By the storm now raging above us, and by the trees, crying
should creep on all fours into No. 8, and pull
BLOOD!" the powers of earth and air, I swear never to desert
Clinton senior's toe, then utter a warwhoop, and thee, come weal or come wo! A few short hours,
we would all rush in, pell mell, and give No. 8 fits and we shall reach a place where we can be united
TURKISH A RABA.
-in a word, come down on them like bricks. forever in Hymen's silken chain. But I don't think
“ But who is to do the creeping ?” said Boxer, Jack is driving with sufficient rapidity. Let me stir OUR ilustration (see page 199,) shows a party who was so clumsy that he never could catch a him up!”.
of Turkish ladies out for an excursion. The cricket-ball in his life, and was the poorest shot at He reaches from the window of the carriage and carriage is the Turkish araba, a kind of waggon marbles I ever saw. speaks to the driver.
drawn by buffaloes. The attendants are slaves, “Not you,” said Stookleson junior, a small, red“Driver! on! faster! If we get to Squamville well armed, under the direction of a tall Abys- haired boy, who, like a little terrier, would fight without being overtaken, I'll give you a dollar and sinian. The destination of the party is probably anything, however big, and never leave off under a drink!"
the valley of Sweet Waters—a delightful place of any circumstances. “Not you, Boxer, you always The driver jumps on his seat for joy! A dollar resort a little distance from Constantinople—or stumble or knock something over.” and a drink! He plies the lash with renewed some quiet spot on the shores of the Bosphorus, “Who then ?" said Twigsy, the boy who was so vigor! They are going like a streak!
where they can witness some dancing, and drink delicate that he was ordered a glass of port-wine On! on! on! wine and brandy ad libitum.
every day to keep up his stamina, and who was But alas and alackaday! the inmates of the car- We are credibly informed that the ladies of always kissing little Lucy, the master's daughter, riage hear the furious galloping of a horse behind! Turkey are inveterate drinkers. Poor things ! in the shrubbery, and who used to buy brandy The sound approaches ! The maiden gives one Their degraded solitude requires some stimulant ; and bring it up into the bedroom at night, in a soda quick glance at the horseman from the window, and but they do not always take pleasure-trips. water bottle, and gave it us to drink out of the after speaking just two words, shrieks with horror, The dead claim a large share of their solicitude. shell of a cocoanut. and falls back insensible !
They are extremely punctaal in their visits to the Why, Slokins, of course, because he's the "My f-a-t-h-e-r!!"
sepulchres of their relations. Attached to each oldest,” shouted Tom Crisp. The driver swears, whips and yells, but in vain! tomb is a small earthen flower-pot, let into the Yes, Slokins for ever !” cried the whole room in One brief moment, and the horseman is at the car- ground, in which are constantly kept fresh branches chorus. riage—another, and the driver falls from his seat, of myrtle, or some small slırub, over which they But Slokins would not go, so I, as leader of the dead, shot in the eye with a pistol ball !
frequently pour water, preserving them with the expedition, finally volunteered to undertake the The carriage stops. The horseman approaches greatest care and fondest attention.
hazardous enterprise ; and off we started, marching the door.
noiselessly in Indian file, holding our night-shirts “ Joseph Green,” he said in an awful tone, FUNERALS IN Paris.-All funerals in Paris are tightly round us to prevent them from rustling, and “ what have you done with my daughter ?" performed by one chartered, registered company. each, with his bolster over his shoulder, prepared for
“She is here, tyrannical parent !” observed the They have got a privilege, a concession, a monopoly the direst extremities. man in the carriage.
from the government. If you die in the Roman I halted within a yard of the open door of No. 8, " Come forth, villain !" shouts the incensed Catholic faith, nobody else can bury you. They and crawling like a “last of the Mohicans,” or the father, “and defend thyself! Here, amid the storm have an office that is open fourteen hours out of the celebrated serpent who tempted Eve, on my belly, of elements, this day and this bour, thou diest like twenty-four ; they own five hundred black horses, contrived to reach the foot of Clinton senior's bed, a dog !"
eighty hearses of various sizes, (one expressly for insert my dexter hand under the bedclothes, and give “Thou liest! With this good sword will I meet giants), drivers, mourners, bier-carriers, carpenters, bis toe a jerk which roused him like a galvanic thee, and God defend the right !"
drapers, without number; they have shields and shock from the embrace of an incipient slumber. The gentleman gets out and draws his toasting armorial bearings ready painted for all the titled A-e-o-n-y !" squealed Clinton, “who is that?" iron!
families in Paris ; they have hangings for doorways and he sprang out of bed, but only to be knocked They fight !
and churches, with every combination of embroidered | down, instanter, by Twigsy's bolster. Long and desperate is the struggle-quick and initials in the alphabet ; they supply water-whether Immediately, an immense slaughter took place. fierce is the clashing of swords ! For somewhere blessed or not makes no difference ; they undertake At the foot of every bed in No. 8 was a hero of No. about two hours and a half they combat with the everything with nothing, do the whole, and then 6, whacking away, like a steam-engine, at the resolution of despair !.
send your executors and survivors a swinging bill. prostrate form of his victim. It was a decided case It is at an end !
The tariff of prices shows that there are pompes from of surprise, and some minutes elapsed before the The lover falls ! 3967 francs down to 5 francs.
enemy rallied. No sooner, however, did they re
cover the first shock of our insidious attack, than Whackam, “ unless the offender be now given up." panther. It is much admired for its fidelity and out they tumbled, and fought with the wilder Dead silence.
boldness. The terror of the wife and children, and exasperation from their preliminary drubbing. Next morning, the doctor forgot to cane us. A the fierce, undaunted front of the husband and father
Slokins, I am sorry to say, beat an inglorious re- new boy had arrived, and Whackam was in a good are admirable depicted. There is in the ensemble treat, and shortly afterwards Clinton put the main humor consequently. But at night we had an aw- intense energy, without intense exaggeration. body of our army to flight, by meanly cutting at ful story to tell to the new tenant of the “ Haunted The artist has not orientalised his picture of life their legs with his suspenders. But in the corri- Bed.”
in the forest ; but in its whole execution seems to dor, and on neutral ground, the fight yet raged with I may as well add, though it has properly speak- betray an intimate knowledge of the road to perfecHomeric fury, and was at the point of excitement, ing nothing to do with the story, that we let down tion, as laid down by Michael Angelo. A friend when a sudden flash of light from the well-staircase the newboy's pantaloons by a string to the floor be called on that great man, who was finishing a statue ; warned us of the approach of a third and yet more low, where they took them in and cut the cord for some time afterwards he called again. The sculptor powerful force. It was in fact the master, who was us ; that we, furthermore, filled his boots with nut was still at his work. His friend, looking at the already on the last turn of the stairs, and would shells, and put a small frog in his milk and water at figure, exclaimed : inevitably be upon us before we could return to breakfast. He turned out a first-rate bolsterer, and “ You have been idle since I saw you last !" our dormitories.
when we got up amateur theatricals nearly smoth- By no means !" replied the sculptor. “ I have I having been the last to retreat from the camp ered Stookelson as Desdemona, in the ferocious cha- retouched this part and polished that ; I have softened of the hostile forces, was now behind all the rest racter of Othello.
this feature and brought out this muscle ; I have of my party, who had mutely taken to their heels,
given more expression to this lip, and more energy and fled madly up the passage towards No. 8.
to this limb !" Seeing, therefore, that escape was impossible, I SCULPTURE IN THE CRYSTAL PALACE “Well," said his friend; 6 but all these are resolved, like a second Horatius, to “defend the
trifles !" staircase,” and commenced by launching my bolster
“ It may be so !" replied Angelo ; " but recollect
over the bannisterser. Paling Plump in the beach. The collection of sculpture in the Crystal that itriles make perfection, and that perfection is
the and extinguishing his light,
!" it was a perfectly successful operation. I was snug comprises illustrations of every age and nationin bed like the rest by the time he had obtained a ancient, medieval, and modern. Here, the Apollo The Fallen FoE.-A sailor writing from the fresh candlestick and returned to the attack. Belvidere, the Venus de Medicis, the Farnesian Baltic, says :-"I fired. He fell like a stone. A
“What boy threw that bolster ?" said the deep- Hercules, the Laocoon, the Discobulus : all Greek broadside from the went in amongst the trees, toned voice of Dr. Whackam.
statues-relics of an age of lively enthusiasm for the and the enemy disappeared, we could scarcely tell Silence.
majestic and the beautiful. There, works of the how. I felt as though I must go up to him to see “ I say who threw that bolster ?" reiterated the Roman era, in which there is less of beauty but whether he was dead or alive. He lay quite still, doctor. Why don't you speak ?”
more of portraiture—for it was the conquerors, the and I was more afraid of him lying so than when he Nobody spoke, or gave any reason for not doing so. emperors, the orators the Romans admired; and stood facing me a few minutes before. It's a strange “I'll soon find out,” said the angry pedagogue. they cherished their memories by the preservation feeling to come over you all at once that you have Twigsy, where's your bolster ?" of their images
killed a man. He had unbottoned his jacket, and Here, sir."
A large collection of modern productions, both by was pressing his hand over the front of his chest “And yours?"
foreign and native artists, are also there. Casts of where the wound was. He breathed hard and the “Here, sir."
the colossal head of Bavaria, and the equestrian blood poured from the wound and also from his “ And yours ?"
statue of Frederick the Great, by Raunch. Thor- mouth, every breath he took. His face was white “Here, sir.”
waldsen, Canova, and other great European artists, as death, and his eyes looked so big and bright as He had at length satisfied himself of the presence with all our own native sculptors—whose imagin- he turned them and stared at me—I shall never forof every boy's bolster but mine, and all clearly fore- ings, though mentioned last in this description, are get it. He was a fine young fellow, not more than saw that the exposure of the culprit was at hand, not least in whatever is truly valuable, talented, and 25. I went down on my knees beside him, and my and that if virtue were not immediately rewarded, praiseworthy—are also largely represented. breast was so full as though my heart would burst. vice stood an admirable chance of being summarily One of our illustrations this week is “ The He had a real English face, and did not look like an punished.
Massacre of the Innocents”-a sculptured group by enemy. What I felt I never can tell, but if my life “Mr. Franklin Lafayette Hopscotch, where is the celebrated Dini. As will be seen from the would have saved his, I believe I should have given your bolster, if you please,” said Whackam sardoni- engraving, it is a work of striking excellence. The it. I laid his head on my knee and he grasped hold cally, bringing his candle to bear upon my devoted brawny figure, close-cropped hair, and stolid aspect of my hand and tried to speak, but his voice was bed.
of the executioner serve to render the mother's gone. I could not tell a word he said, and every Here, sir,” said I cheerfully, to the utter amaze- desperation and anguish the most vivid and intense. time he tried to speak the blood poured out so, I ment of every boy in the room.
She is an exact embodiment of the maternal feeling knew it would soon be over. For an instant the doctor was staggered. Seven struggling, body and soul, for the preservation of “I am not ashamed to say that I was worse than boys and eight bolsters! He would as readily have her offspring. We can almost fancy that we behold he, for he never shed a tear, and I couldn't help it. believed in seven boys and eight heads. But his Rachael struggling with the assassin on the threshold His eyes wore closing when a gun was fired from consternation was brief; he suddenly observed that of her home. The story of the work is of course the to order us on board, and that roused him. there was a spare bed in the corner. He hastened taken from the narrative of the Evangelist, St. He pointed to the beach, where the boat was just to inspect it. The bolster was absent !
Matthew, and no doubt the artist had Rachael before pushing off with the guns we had taken, and where “Who threw that bolster ?" repeated Doctor his mental eye when he designed the beautiful our marines were waiting to man the second boat; Whackam.
figure of the supplicating and frantic mother. All and then he pointed to the wood where the enemy “The ghost of the boy who died in the spare our readers will remember the graphic passage : was concealed-poor fellow, he little thought how I bed !" said a sepulchral voice.
“In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation had shot him down. It was the voice of Slokins, and so aftfully dis- and weeping, and great mourning ; Rachael weep- “I was wondering how I could leave him to die, guised that everybody started; and the smaller boys for her children, and would not be comforted, be- and no one near him, when he had a something like were thrown into a cold perspiration. cause they are not."
a convulsion for a moment, and then his face rolled “ Who spoke?" said the doctor.
We also give an illustration of a beautiful group over, and, without a sigh, he was gone. I trust the Silence.
by Wydnmann—a celebrated artist of Munich. Almighty has received his soul. I laid his head “I shall cane you all to-morrow morning,” said | The subject is a hunter defending his family from a gently down on the grass and left him.”