L8SQQQW eee a7 BORER TEES “Vol. XIX. ho SONNET—-ADVERSITY. BY U. D. THOMAS. Thou art a friend, Adversity! We owe To thee far more than oft we freely own, Since we receive from thy hard hand alone The test by which our faithful friends we know, Thy advent proves the geeming friend a foe; And though awhile thy presence chills the heart, Soon into brighter light its fountains start; Along thy pathway poesy’s garlands grow, Wisdom and worth attend thee here below. Then let me these, thy blessings, humbly share, While thy austerities I meekly bear. Let Fortune with her fawning flatterers go, (Her smiles are treacherous as a summer sea, ) Take thou my hand and heart, dark-browed Adversity 1 acres ene > 4 > ¢~ derness at the thought of -him, completed the revelation to the villain. He had been thinking what a fool he was to carry off Iolet Leol, when he might have had such an aristocratic and dainty little beauty as this nameless Yola—when she made her con- fession of love for the young hammock-maker, and set his heart on fire with evil passions. His eyes glowed with a fiendish hate for his rival, and he comprehended the fierce jeal- ousy of Lasso; Nerle was a man of the tropios—quick to love and quick to hate.- Never in all his life had his heart been touched, however, with a strong love for any woman until now; and now he loved with an intensity of which he had not deemed himself capable—with a swift and steady passion that swept all barriers before it. He had fancied other women—as he had fan- cied Iolet Leol—but this was his first real love, the first time his whole being had bowed down to a woman. It was a strange faet that the guilty heart that quenly beauties had tried in vain to win, had been laid so quickly before the childish beauty and innocence of Yola. When he again turned.to her, his face was calm, but his eyes showed a new and strong resolve. “J must go home,” he said. ‘Padre Lasso came up to call on me last night and stayed on account of the storm, so you i aust hurry back, for he’s there now. ™you must not tell him that I have been here when he comes back, or helt rage dreadfully. Will you promise not to tell him?” Yola promised. “J shall have to lock you up as I found you,” he continued, ‘but you must be hopeful and cheerful. Iwill get you out of this cell, let what will come, but I want to try fair means first.” “I won’t tell him,”’ said Yola. “I will be very secret about it.- Iam sorry to make you go much trouble, senor. If you would tell Ruy how I’m shut up here he'll come and take .{meaway. Would you mind the trouble of going to him?” Again the evil light shot into Nerle’s eyes, and he was obliged to wait a moment before he could reply. “J don’t believe that Ruy is at home,’’ he at length said. ‘‘Ithink he’s gone off on business | for _— galleon. You'd beiter trust me, little fairy. I'll be sure te get you sway from here to-day. Remember that I am your friend.” Yola thanked him, shook hands with him, and then returned to her cell, and Nerle locked her in, replaced the keys in the kitchen with- out being detected, and hastened back to the castle, He found Lasso seated in the library. ‘How are the prisoners?” he asked, ‘“‘All right:?” “Yes. How did you find the sloop ?’ ‘‘Safe—but the boys aboard of her have had a regular seige. Let’s have. breakfast.” They proceeded to a large dining-hall where a luxurious breakfast for two was in waiting. CHAPTER XI. A VISIT TO THE GALLEON, When breakfast was concluded, Nerle turned to his partner in iniquity, and said, ‘‘Pedro, the sea is so high and the wind so variable that the galleon will not leave the bay to-day. What do you say, therefore, to paying the Count Regla a visit ?”’ The pretended priest started, and a look of absolute terror and apprehension crossed his face, as he shook his head, and ejaculated, ‘No, no! Not for worlds would I seo him, or be seen by him.”’ _ Nerle smiled, in his quiet and meaning way, his keen glances having assured him that there was some secret between the Reglas and his companion. ‘Ah! Imight have known as much,’”’ he said. ‘I remember that you were quite ex- cited and abstracted last night ome aby count’s presence. T shall go, however-—— ‘No, No!” interrupted Lasso,, ‘‘you had better not. What if the count should know of your connection with the pirates—with Cal- ocatras.’” ‘Oh, he won’t know anything about it—Tll answer for that. While I am gone you can feed the prisoners, if you choose, and remain in charge of the castle until my returu.”. Lasso realised that his companion -was bent on visiting the galleon, and made no farther objections, knowing that they would be use- less, He said that he was anxious to hear the results of Nerle’s proposed visit, and readily promised to wait at the castle to hear them. “You can return to the library, Pedro,”’ remarked Nerle, ‘‘whenever you choose. Here are the keys to the rooms where the Leols are confined, and you ean ring for food for them.” He handed out the two keys Lasso had al- ready used that morning, and withdrew to his own apartment, where he attired himself hand- somely. He then went to the front entrance of the castle, descending the broad marble steps, and entering the main garden. He had not taken.a dozen steps before he suddenly encountered one of his servants, with Senor Leol, Ruy’s foster-father. - There was a look of grief and anxiety on the old hammock-maker’s weather-beaten ceunte- nanoe, and he looked at least ten years older than on the preceding afternoon. “Good morning, senor,” said Nerle, with a careless courtesy. ‘Do you wish to see me?” ‘*Yos, senor,” answered Leol, bowing. ‘‘Has Ruy been here during the night? or, have you seen anything of my daughter, Iolet?’’ ‘Why, no!’’ returned Nerle, in apparent surprise. ‘‘Are they not at home?” The old man shook his head, and his voice was husky with grief, as he said, .. “They were both out in all that hurricane last-night. Where can they be? Didn't Ruy come heré;senor ?” “No,” replied Nerle, affecting sympathy. ‘I haven’t seen éither Ruy or Iolet for a week. Perhaps they are visiting some neighbor.” ‘No, no!” said Leol,-sadly. ‘I have visited or sent word to every house on Isla Grande, and at last resolved to come heré, it being the only place we have not visited. Perhaps Tolet was blown from the path on the cliffs into 9 sea by the wind.” ‘No, you mustn’t think so. She may ae gone into the interior for flowers or some- thing, and lost her way!” The cloud on Leol’s face lightened a little, but instantly fell again, as he said, “But, Ruy, where is he?” Nerle drew the arm of the old hammock- maker in his own, and they walked down the garden, and passed outside the heavy gate, near which a servant was usually at work, go- ing out upon the cliffs. ‘T sympathize with you, my friend,” he re- marked. ‘‘We must, however, hope for the best. Itis probable, as I suggested, that Iolet may have strayed into the jungles, and it’s equally probable that Don Ruy may be on board the galleon.” : Leol uttered a hopeful exclamation, and Nerle continued, “IT am now going aboard of the galleon, and will inquire if he has been there. By the way, could you take me off in a boat to her?” “Yes, senor. The sea is very rough, but I think I can manage to convey you there.” Nerlé continued to sympathize with Leol as they proceeded on their way to the village, and made a very favorable impression on the unsuspecting old hammock-maker, so that when they teached the beach near his cottage Leol thought, ‘I never knew Ruy to be mistaken but once, and that was when he misjudged Senor Nerle. If he could only see how good and sympathiz- ing he is to me in my greattrouble, he would esteem him as highly as the villagers all do.” Proceeding to his boat-house, the old man brought out a strong and well-made boat, and Nerle hastened to enter it, and was rowed out toward the stately galleon. As they neared it, their boat dancing over the white-capped waves, Nerle noticed that though the vessel was not new it was staunch and well-bnilt, and his repeated glances be- trayed his admiration of if. Ho carefully noted everything about it. A guard was pacing the deck, and hailed them as they approached, and Nerle stated that he wished to see the owners of the galleon. He was allowed to board, the old man follow- ing him to the deck, The distinguished-looking stranger who had visited Ruy and engaged him as a pilot was pacing the deck, The statements Nerle had made to Lasso about him were substantially true. He was Count Regla, the richest man in Mexico—proprietor of a vast silver mine, many millions of dollars from which he was now bearing away in his galleon, with the inten- tion ef going to Spain to reside. The more) intimate facts respecting him and his family will appear in the course of our story. He ad- vanced towards Nerle, greeting him courte- ously, and Nerle introducing himself, adding: ‘JT own the castle up the coast, and reside at Isla Grande during’a portion of every year |” He indicated the castle, which presented a very imposing appearance from the bay, sit- uated as it was close to the sea on the high cliffs. ‘T have called upon you, thinking the wind would keep you in port to-day,” continued Nerle, politely, ‘‘and to offer you my hospi- tality. during the time you may spend with us!’’ ‘Thank you, senor,” replied the owner of the galleon. ‘I am Count Regla, of Mexico. Allow me to introduce my friend and country- man, Captain Romero.” The captain advanced and exehanged greet- ings with Nerle, ‘Do me the honor of entering my cabin, Senor Nerle,’’ said Count Regla. ‘Allow me to tender my hospitality before I accept yours!” Nerle assented, and the count, after order- ing Leol to be cared for by one of the sub- officers of the Encantadora, led the way te his cabin—an apartment that. for richness and decorations was beyond parallel. The costly Persian carpet, the luxurious divans and couches, the pictures, inlaid guitar, books, and sumptuous adornings, rivalled the be- longings of the castle, and betrayed the enor- mous wealth and refined tastes of their owner. The forward part of the cabin was divided from the rest by a heavy curtain of blue vel- vet, which fell frem the ceiling to the floor. Count Regla seated his guest, and excusing himself, lifted the curtain, passing into an ex- quisite little bed-room, returning almost im- mediately with a lady leaning on his arm, whom he in'roduced as his wife, the countess. She was about thirty-eight years of age, but looked younger. She was tall and queenly, slender in form, though not too much so, and possessed a noble countenance to which years had added beauty and sweetness. There was a sadness about her, as about her hus- band, showing that despite their great love for. each other, despite their rank and wealth, they had known some great sorrow. The dress of the countess was along robe of rich black velvet, the sleeves trimmed with costly lace. It was confined at the waist by a ceinture of very fine and flexible gold set with stars formed of immense diamonds. A watch set with diamonds was thrust carelessly into her golden belt; glittering rings adorned her taper fingers; bracelets, like bands of light, encircled her delicate wrists; and sprays of diamonds, set in thin gold wires scarcely perceptible, flashed from her bands of purple black hair. Nerle was impressed by her magnificent at- tire as much as by her rare and refined beau- ty, and his mamner was most gentle as he greeted her. ‘Senor Nerle owns the castle you noticed this morning, love,” said the count, as he seated his beautiful wife in a stationary easy- chair. ‘He has called to offer us his hospi- .| tality.” \. “It would give me great pleasure, senora,” ‘said Nerle, ‘to show you my gardens and residence. Would you like to go ashore?” “Thank you, senor,” said the countess. ‘‘We were just thinking of going ashore, and perhaps your visit will save us the trouble— the sea being so rough I dislike te trust my husband or myself to it.” Nerle bowed, and calculated the immense sums the jewels which the countess wore so carelessly must have cost—and there was a strange gleam in his eyes as he mentally pro- nounced them worth more than million dollars. ‘In fact,’ continued the lady, “my hus- band is greatly interested in that young pilot who brought us into the bay last evening— the young man named Leol. He has inspired in me a profound wish to see him!’’ ‘He is a very worthy and intelligent young man,” said Nerle, bowing. ‘‘He is esteemed by the villagers as one above them—is.a splen- did scholar—and a perfect gentlemen, To know him is to love him!” The villain knew that he was-sSpeaking no more than the truth about Ruy. The Countess exchanged glances with her husband, and then said: ' Perhaps, querido mio, this gentleman can tell you if the young pilot is a native of Isla Grande, and also something of his history!” The Count regarded Nerle a moment, \as if hesitating tu speak, and then remarked: “This young pilot has recalled a family tragedy, which I will relate to you, Senor Nerle. Seventeen years ago, a dear friend of mine, residing in the city of Mexico, died, leaving to my guardianship his orphaned and infant daughter, and a large sum of ready money to be saved for her. This money and the child were committed to the care of a young man named Laslin, a protege of my de- ceased friend, to be placed in my keeping!” He paused 2 moment, as if the retrospec- tien was too much for his calmness, and a strange expression appeared on Neele’s face. ‘This servant proved faithless and fled with the money,” pursued the Count, after a brief pause, ‘Fortunately, I appeared in the neigh- borhood that same day, and was informed of the movement. We pursued him and arrest- ed him. He was tried and sentenced to a long term of imprisonment, The case excited con- siderable attention at the time, as the faith- less protege was studying to be a priest!” Again the Count paused. Nerle started, and had not the Count and his wife been absorbed in their grief, they would have been startled at his strange and sudden emotion. His eyes gleamed with a peculiar light, and & significant smile curved his thin and blood- less lips. Count Reg’a soon proeseded; “A year passed on, and one day this little girl—then a year old--and my only son, a no- ble little fellow of four years, disappeared strangely and mysteriously. We searched everywhere for three days, and then heard of Laslin’s escape from prison, when we knew that- he had stolen the children. We adver- tised for years, employed men in the search, and spent our time and money freely; but we have never found a clew to the fate of my lost son and ward—not the least clew, not the slightest!” He covered his eyes with his hands to hide the tears he could not restrain, while his wife sobbed aloud. - It was evident that their grief was as fresh as on the day they had lost the children—that time had not dulled their love for their boy, nor blunted their poignant grief at his loss. Nerle had listened to this story with strange emotions, and his manner showed that he had been singularly excited by it. Resuming his calmness, however, he asked: ‘‘What did you call the villain, count?” ‘His name was Reve Laslin, senor!” Nerle softly repeated it, as though he were committing it to memory. “JT have told you this,” Count Regia went on, “that you may clearly see the motive of the inguiry which has been suggested to me by this young pilot. Capt. Romero says he resembles me very closely, and I also discov- ered the fact for myself. I have been much moved on the subject, and was about to order out a boat to go on shore when you come on deck. Now, is there anything, Senor Nerle, in the birth or career of this young pilot that would lead you to connect bim with my lost son?” The count and countess waited eagerly for areply, the more especially as their visitor had seemed thoughtful and interested. Nerle had had time to recover from his great astonishment, however, and now shook his head gravely. “T fear you have deceived yourself, Gount,”’ he said, in his gentle and seductive tones. ‘‘It is but a mere resemblance !” The count did not look satisfied. ‘‘He did not look like a common pilot,’’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘He looked noble and grand, as if endowed from his birth with the loftiest qualities of mind and soul. He has a patrician look, Senor Nerle, and an air of con- scious power and integrity of purpose. I would give all amy wealth to claim that young man as my son.’ A strange gleam shot from the eyes of Senor Nerle as he responded, in his most hypocritical tones, ‘Your misfortunes inspire in the most profound sympathy, Count. I most re- luctant to tell you the truth concerning Ruy Leol, but it will be better to do so than to per- mit you to indulge fallacious hopes. It is true. he has a patrician bearing, but nature some- times plays strange freaks. made him what he is.” His listeners were silent a few homens and: the count then said, in a broken voice, ‘We must dismiss our awakened hopes, Regina. If we find not our lost children here, we shall meet them hereafter in the bright world to which all mortal steps are tending. Let us be patient.” The countess wiped her tears away, and her countenance resumed its expression of patient sadness, as did her husband’s. The villain made a few i aieaninici: re- marks, and then said, ‘Shall I have the honor, senora, of welcom- ing you and the Count to my castle during your stay here.” ‘No, thank you, Senor,” said the lady. ‘“We have no wish to go on shore now, but ap- preciate your kind hospitality.” Nerle bowed, remarked that he must return home, and took his departure in the most griceful manner, the count accompanying him to the deck. Leol was,in waiting, and the two men were soon on their way to the shore. ‘‘Your son has not been on board the gal- leon,” said Nerle. ‘We will have to search for him elsewhere.” Leol bowed, with a heart-broken expres- sion on his haggard face, and said that he could only resume his search for him. Nerle left him, putting up his beat, and has- tened toward the castle alone. As he hurried | onward his eyes grew keen and his face glow- ing, and he muttered, ‘Reve Laslin, eh? Studying tobe a priest. A baby girl, with a fortune waiting for her in Count Regla’s hands! A lost boy, too—a fa- ture Count Regla! Isee! I see!” He chuckled gleefally to himself, and rubbed his hands joyfully together. He soon reached thé castle and entered it, »@44 finding Lasso walking about in a wild state of © excitement, (To be Continued.) aw Poor Ray is only: the son of an humble and illiterate hammock-. | maker—his aspirations and strong will have: | ve f ! a Al a ‘ els 5 cole ate i Something New in the Card World! Something New in the Card World, Something New in the Card World, Something New in the Card World. Something New in the Card World. Something New in the Card World. Something New in the Card World. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, and Knaves Played Out. Kings, Queens, end Knaves Played Out. : Time for a Change. Time for a Ghange. Time for a Change. Time for a Change. . Time for a Change, Time for a Change, Time for a Change. Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough, Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough. Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough. - Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough, Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough. Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough. Foreign Emblems Used Long Enough. Nationality Everything. Nationality Everything. Nationality Everything. Nationality Everything. Nationality Everything. Nationality Everything. Nationality Everything, Union Playing Cards. National Emblems. Union Playing Cards. . : . National Emblems. Union Plsying Cards. National Emblems. Union Playing Cards. National Emblems. Union. Playing Cards, : Wational Bmblous. Union Playing Cards. National Emblems. Union Playing Cards. National Emblems. Union Playing Cards. National Emblems, Union Playing Cards. National Emblems. Union Playing Cards. National Emblems. Eagles, Shields, Stars, and Flags. (Hagles, Shields, Stars, and Flags. Eagles, Shields, Stars, and Flags. Eagles, Shields, Stars, and Flags. Eagles, Shields, Stars, and Flags. Eagles, Shields, Stars, and Flags. Oolonel in Place of King. Colonel in Place of King. Colonel in Place of King. Oolonel in Place of King. - Goddess of Liberty in Place of Queen. Goddess of Liberty in Place of Queen, 4 Goddess of Liberty in Place of Queen, f Goddess of Liberty in Place of Queen, Major in Place of Jack, Major in Place of Jack. Major in Place of Jack. Major in Place of Jack, SPECIAL NOTICE. The American Oard Company have the exclusive right to manufacture the Gnion Playing Oards, bearing national emblems, and they take pleasure in being able to announce that the success of the new Union Playing Cards is unprecedented in the history of any article ever produced. The reason for this is simple. The Union Playing Oards meet a long existing want, They cater to the spirit of nationality everywhere ex- isting among the people of the American republic. In addition to the fact that they meet the popular idea, they are the prettiest playing cards made, Each pack is put up in an elegant card case, suitable to keep’ them in when not in use, and these, again, in dozen boxes for the trade, Nothing to Learn! Nothing to Learn | As the four great national emblems used to represent the suits in the new Union Playing Cards are as Familiar as Household Words Familiar as Household Words everywhere among the American people, the Union Playing Cards can be used as readily the first occasion 88 cards bearing foreign emblems, All. one has to do i8 to discard foreign osrds from bis mind and call the cards as they show—Hagies, Shielda, Stars Flags. Quite Time, Quite Time. Quite Time. Let Independence * and Nationality : be the watchword. Encourage Home Manufacture and American Enterprise. Cultivate American Genius, Develop American Resources, Bse the American Gard Company’s New Union Playing Cards. For Sale Everywhere. For Sale Everywhere, The trade cannot be without the Union Playing Cards, Everybody will be running after them, Everybody wents them that sees them. The new Unien Playing Oards will be universally adopted as the playing card of the country, : TWO SAMPLE PACKS, IN CASES, WILL BE SENT, POST PAID, ON RECHIPT OF $1. Address AMERICAN CARD COMPANY, 14 Chambers street, or 165 William street, New York. J. H WINSLOW & OO. WATCHES, CHAINS. &€6., &C., &C. 100,000 WORTH $500,000 ° ” fo be cc. One Dotlar each, without regard to vatue, and pot to be paid for till you know what you are ta get, Splendid List. oF ARTIOLES TO BE SOLD FOR ONE DOLLAR EAOH 1060 Gold Hunting Cased Watches.......cc00+. $115,00 each 1D Gold Watchos........sccecees oe oesens coeee 70,00 Cah, 300 Ladies’ Gold Watches............. sores 49,00 cach 500 Ladies’ and Gents’ Silver Watches.......... 18,00 each 8000 Vest and Neck Chaing......ccccssseses © 00 tO 10 W each 8000 Gold Band Bracelets..... vovesvccccsee 800 to 1000 each ano se aye 5 BO00to 50 each 3000 Cameo Brooches.........00 ee 400to 600 each Mosaic and Jot Brooches..... - £00to 600 each Lava and Florentine Brooches...... 400 to 600 each 8000 Coral, pal, and Em. Brooches...... 400to 600 cach 3000 Cameo Ear Drops.......-sscccvee coves £00 to 600 each 8000 Mosaic and. Jet Kar Drops........ coos £00 to 600 each §000 Lava and Florentine Ear Drops...... 400 to 6 60 each: 8008 Coral, Exa., and Opal Ear Drops..... 490 to 800 each’ 6000 Gents’ Breast Pins.......000+ Socice --. 2580 to 800 each 8009 Watch a ewes nes se ; 200 te 600 each $000 Fob and Ribbon Slides... 200to 600 each 5000 Sets ef Bosom Studs..... . 250to 600 each 250te 600 each. o- 280 to each. -. 250to 600 each CROs. ccs ceccecves eee seco 2968 t0 10 00 each. $000 Sets Ladies’ Jewelry......ccccevereres 8 00 to 10 60 each 10006 Gold Pens wilth Silver Mounted Hold- 400 to 500 each. 400 te 600 each. All of the. above list of Goods will be sold for one dollar gach. Oertificates of all the various articles, stating what sack one can have, are first put into envelopes, sealed up, snd mixed ; and when ordered, are taken out without re- gard to choice, and sent yy mail, thus giving all a fair shance. On the receipt of the Certificate, you will see what ‘ou can oe es then itis at your option to send one dol- ar and take the article or not. transactions by mail, we shall charge for forward- ing the Carta oaien Vay an povaaai and doing the business, 36 cents each, which must be enclosed when the Certificates ig sent for. Five Certificates will be sent for $1; eleven a i ; thirty for $5; sixty-five for $10; and a hundred ‘or $18. Agzuxrs.—Those acting as agents will be allowed ten cents on every Certificate ordered by them, provided their remit- tance amounts to one dollar. Agents will collect 25 cents for every Certifieate, and remit 15 cents to us, either in cash or postage stamps. Great caution should be used by our sorrespondents in regard to giving their correct address, Fown, County, and State. Address J. H. WINSLOW & OO. 308 Broadway, New York, Beauty.—Hunt’s White Liquid ENAMEL. Prepared by Madame Rachel Leverson, the celebrated Parisian Ladies’ Enameler. It whitens the skin perman- ently, giving it a soft, satin-like texture, and imparts a feeshness and transparency to the complexion, which is quite natural, without injury to the skin. It is also war- ranted toremove Tan, Freckles, Pimples, Sunburn, ete. Sent by mail, free from observation, on receipt of Be 80 cents. Address, HUNT & CO., Perfumers, 133 South Seventh street, and 41 South Eighth street, Philadelphia. 029 tf. A MAN OF A THOUSAND. A CONSUMPTIVE CURED. DR. H. JAMES, a Retired Physician of great eminence, discovered, while in the East Indies, a certain cure for Con- sumption, Asthma, Bronchitis, Coughs, Colds, and General Debility. The remedy was discovered by him when his E only phil, a daughter, was given up Were O93 oe thera 9 5 VT ae co ana 1@? THE REBEL PIRATES. ‘Ht will be remembered that about a year ®ince a plot by the rebels to take passage on board a California steamer at San Francisco and capture her when she should get out to 80a, “vas Gscevered and frustrated. The ‘Chesapeake rebbers, however, were more suc- cessful. They managed to get off with the ship although they did not keep her long. Much alarm ismow expressed lest the pirates Alabama and Cheorgia, which have been scour- ing the Indian seas, may make a descent upon California, and capture and burn the city of San Francisco. So far as regards the city, we think little danger need beapprehended. The entrance to the Liarbor is very narrow, and ves- sels going in miust necessarily pass directly under the heavy gwns of the fort. Small forti- fications outside the ‘‘Golden Gate” further protect the entranite, and with these, and ob- stacles which can readily be placed in the channel, the harbor can be defended from a larger fleet of steamers than the pirates can concentrate. The gywatest danger is to the many small ports from Vancouver Island to San Diego, all of whith lie at the mercy of any pirate who may pay them a visit. There are some dozen sea ecast towns, without a gun to defend them, and whith would yield a hand- some treasure to the imvader. The whole coast, save San Francisco harbor, is epen to the enemy, and if we hear of the Alabama’s| pot, appearance in California waters, it will be at San Diego, Santa Banbara, Monterey, or at: some other unprotected point; but she will not be likely to attempt the passage of the Golden Gate. —_—__—_ +10 —— THE ‘SILVER SHIP. This splendid stery is a great success, as we ‘knew it would be. The rush for it is tremen-. dous. As fast as a new edition is worked off itis.exhausted, and our presses are now run- ning night and day. The perusal of thestory affords great satisfaction to our juvenile friends, and we hope 4hat each who becomes interest- ed in it will.be careful to make its merits known to his companions. jit is the loafer’s office to produce himself in a | not love eternal repose, but occasionally slides off HOSPITAL CARS. Everything relating to the comfort and con- venience of our brave soldiers should be deep- ly interesting to the public at large, and it is therefore with pleasure that we call attention to a new style of hospital cars which have been placed upon their road by the New York and Boston Express Line of Railway, for the purpose of conveying sick and wounded sol- diers (or civilians, when necessary,) between those two cities. The Army and Navy Jour- nal, of this city, gives the following de- scription of the cars alluded to: Resembling in the outside the ordinary first- fortable stretchers hanging by rubber bands, so that the patients may rest undisturbed by the motion of the car. Twelve easy chairs and seve- ral regular passenger seats are provided, and there are also attached to the car a complete cooking apparatus, a large medicine chest, and a wash-room. The design of the gentlemen super- intending this through line of railway. without change of cars, was to provide all the conveniences and comforts of a hospital, and it has been very successfully carried out under their management, Two experienced hospital stewards and two nurses have been appointed by the government to take charge of the patients, and everything has been provided to secure their safe and easy passage over the road. One of these cars leaves New York every morning at 8 o’clock, and one leaves Boston every evening at half-past eight o'clock. The number of sick and disabled pas- sengers from New York averages twenty a day; a register of their names and complaints is kept by the stewards. These cars were manufactured in Springfield, Mass., for the New York and Bos- ton Express Line of Railway, composed of the following companies, viz: the Boston and Worce- ster, E. B. Phillips, Esq., superintendent; the Western, Henry Gray, Esq., superintendent; the Hartford and New Haven, E. M. Reed, Esq., su- perintendent; and the New Haven and New York, James Hoyt, Esq., superintendent—all of whom, with their full staff of officers, give every satisfac- tion to the trayelling public, — THE NEW YORK PHUNNY PHFLLOW. All who can appreciate genuine wit and hu- mor should be sure to secure a copy of the above very original comic publication, which is absolutely overflowing with good things. The great charm of the Phumny. Phellow is that there@is nothing hacknied about it. It has something else besides its original mirth- provoking illustrations to recommend it. It is not like most periodicals of its kind, filled up with ancient Joe Millers—clippings from almanacs, scrap-books- and: exchange papers, bat-is tilled with first class original reading matter, It is, in fact, the model paper of its class—‘“‘ever echarming—eyer new’—fresh, sparkling and original. Day by day it is gain- ing in popularity and will soon boast a circu- lation equal to the circulation of all other comic papers combined. LOAFING. BY FRANK RASHLEIGH, We live, it may be said, to make observations. We make them and use them. The various oc- currences of life are briefly chronicled in our memories, shaped by our inventions and put into force by our wills. We live, too, that we may philosophize. At least the scholastic do so. Life, therefore, is a serious affair, and whatever appertains thereto, sacred. This is the case with loafers. A want of something of that deep-seated refine- ment which refuses to acknowledge the necessity of parts in a well ordered whole, of a variety of complicated causes produce an admirable effect, and an absence of that sincerity which sees a something of good in all the various classes of society, has given birth to many unfortunate re- marks upon this singular and widespread genus of our race. : Many a good and profitable thing has thus been cried down by popular indelicacy. The finest arts, the best of sciences, were hooted at by orac- ular owls of conservatism. The dissenters form the excellencies of novelties. It needs not to run back to the oft-cited case of Galileo, Fulton, and others. Martyrs to the faith that was in them of their own powers and the bounty of nature in’ general. Their history is now in the mouths of school boys. It is now admitted that the new is always the butt of the poisoned arrows of mali- cious wits, and the constant aim of these deplora- ble geniuses, who, having nothing original in themselves, deny inventions to others. Ii were a valuable thing to know the name of him who first acted the part of a pure, unadul- terated loafer on the stage of human life. If he could trace the deep benignity to its well-spring in that unfathomable heart, which originally pro- claimed to the admiring howl the obvious glory of basking in the sun on a Warm morning, and taking it easy. “There was that in him which has sent rejoicings into the minds of a whole cloud of unfortunate mdividuals, who, having nothing particular to do in this world, would speedily have cut their throats and vanished therefore, had it not been for the grand discovery of loafing. Look at that unobtrusive person against the post. Ponder at the street corner—observe hig quietness. Heis as calm as an expiring candle or a moonlight scene. He is asisilent as a man born deaf and dumb, or a museum after the hours of closing. The beaming soul of placidity sits upon his half-raised eyelid. The remarkable crownless hat; the long, unbrushed hair, and the partially smoked cigar that protrudes from his serious mouth. No resiless negro, with his ac- tive fingers, has plied the brush over those anti- quated shoes, on which the collected dust of ap- parent centuries rest. His pantaloons have long since flowered, are now pertectly seedy; his coat has just holes enough in it to vindicate its years; his whole appearance is removed a great distance from show or splendor. Je is a loafer. This innocent, unoffending, stationary person, as harmless as the post at his back, or the curb- stone at his feet, would seem the only exception among men, at which satire could not be aimed. To an angel or some good spirit from another sphere, how perfectly absurd, how vindictively savage an assault upon a loafer would appear— attack the shadow of a lamp-post, the immovable tin spout, or a brick pavement, rather than him. He is a denizen of the sunshine when it feels pleasant, and a haunter of the shade when it grows comfortable—a valuable invention for the consuming of half-smoked cigars—an old clothes- horse, solemn as a mist, inoffensive as a water- ot. The position of loafers in society is indefinite; it is frequently said of this class, they hold no place in society; an Ishmaelitish propensity dwells in them to wander and become scarce. They are seen here for a moment and then gone; not like birds of passage, that come back at regular pe- riods, but like will-o-the-wisp, that flare up bright- ly for an instant and then sink forever. A plague we say to those who revile these gentile wanderers, great variety of places in a short time. He does in the shades of evening, and migrates from tay- ern to tavern, but with so much humility, such’ pure peacefulness and so obvious a disregard of splendor, that we consider his migratory habits economical and to be desired. Loafers are generally shadows, haunting side- walks, wharves, museums, and the parks. They neither swarm nor congregate. Like stars they come alone. Their appearance is the sign of class car, the inside is fitted up with nine com- | | they tuk us,) and went thar, advocates of the sublime doctrine of social equali- ty, believing in the brotherhood of man. ‘They are neither revolutionary nor sans culoties, for they are clothed, ° We have not been successful in finding eut the religious tenets of this amiable sect; whatever itis, tis doubtful. I think their whole lives one of ado- ration, offering themselves upon the altar of su- preme laziness—doing nothing is to them devo- tien, while with others it is treachery to the State. The origin of this class partakes of nothing mysterious. Causes may be discovered in the sudden contracting of the circulating medium and the high rates of exchange. The balance of trade is always against the loafer, as with the old slave—‘‘disturb him not, but let him rest,” for he és a loafer. PLEASANT PARAGRAPHS. ~—— The renowned perverter of the English language, who might have said, ‘It is easier fora rich man to go through the eye of a needle, than for a camel to enter the kingdom of heaven,” has lately been to ‘‘see the ele- phant,” the ‘quadrilateral animalcule that uses a trunk for an odious smelling-bottle, and hes his tail attached to the wrong end;” and the particulars of that event are thus related by our esteemed friend, ‘‘’Is Royal Ighness,” under the caption of MRS. PARTINGTON’S VISIT TO THE MENAGERIE, “Do you know, my dear Mrs. Sniffles, Isaac has been worryin’ my life out to go and ses Van Amburgh’s Mannergery. S80 I thort I’d go for onct, and ac- cordently [tuk him. Our muteralfriend, Mrs. Glibby Veracious, was ona visittoseeus. Mighty nice woman, Mrs. Sniffies. Well, to consume my narrowtive, She had a miné ef stories to relate, (I hope she didn’t coin 7em,) all consarnin’ our muteral friends and relators. Wonderful memory—so conspicacious. But I’m diver- sions from mystory. As my dear husband, Jeemsg, took the front rank in my defections,) used to say, (al- luding to the tactics of a crab,) ‘Eshallong o’ files!’ Jist so with my story. Now, as I was allers considered to be the quince-essence of perliteness, I could do nothin’ short of askin’ her to decompany us. She muterally agreed to go, 80 we took the cars, (or rather We had a nice time gin- erally.”? “Ill bet you did,’’ said Mrs. Sniffles. ‘They had the: most astonishin’ quadrubles. Let me see. They had the Rhineosterous, from the river Styx. The awful Bore-consiructor. (I do wonder if it was one of them serpints Eve saw, and convulsed with? Very weak woman, Mrs. Snifiles. She seems ter have no presents o’ mind to let it fool her.) Bat I’m flyin’ off my story, like a lost axe-head. He was very furocious. The door-keeper, a very feelink and nice lookin’ man, (he tuk great notice o’ me,) insured me, as a possible fact, that he acterly swallered a great buck-nigger, as was tickling his nose with a straw. Awful appetite. He userously tuk in a live meuntain goat at a meal, Also, by way of desert, he swallered a pair o’ he and she tom-cats. They also had an Owl, with horns, Mrs. Veracious jocoarsely insinervated that he must bea mar- ried one. Then there wasan Horstretch. He looked jistlike w-turkey.on.stilts,.2nd what recited Ike’s curi- osity, was, it was about a harf Cover’d over, simmer- tageously, with feathers and hair. Ike said it orter be put in Finnyass Barnacle’s Museum. Ho thortit tuk down the Woolley Horse 0’ the Rocking Mountains, wust kind. The Lions, Tigers, &c., were very veraci- ous, La, me! would yer believe it, Mrs. Snifiiss, the keeper tuk a hold of the Lion by the head, and feit his teeth! I felt as if ten thousand jiggers was crawlin’ ever me, and what I thort very consumplious, (and a sort o’ temptin’ o’ Providence,) he put his head in hismouth. He didit very adjacently, with a total mis- regard of human life, Ike hollered out ‘Ma, he’s swal- lerin’ him!’ And sol thort; but no, he pulled it out agin. The audience riz rite up, and ’plauded him, wustkind. They had an Orangertary; Buffoon says it’s @ ‘connectin’ link atwixt a nigger and a monkey.” Buffoon was @ great Botanist, Mrs. Suiffles, and orter know.’’ — Good for Mrs. Partington! Although not afflicted with the gout, she is evidently fall of humor! ... Here is another humorous incident, related in the usual felicitous style of ‘Frank M. Cox,’’ descriptive of AN ADVENTURE AT NATCHEZ, Those who have traveled down the lower Mississippi are aware that the city of Natchez stands on a bluff, some two hundred feet in height. The row of rough- looking buildings under this bluff is known as ‘‘Nat- chez under the Hill.” The buildings are occupied by rumsellers, boat stores, etc., and at the time of which I write, were frequented by boatmen, gamblers, etc. Many years ago, when my friend Dave and I were not so old a8 we are now, we were cabin boys on the “Wing and Wing,”’ which ran from Natchez up the bayous. Captain Jim Allen was a good-natured, jolly old. man, who resided in Natchez. He had two nieces, bright- eyed and very pretty, who spent most of their time on the boat. They were abeut the same age as ourselves, and the consequence was that Dave and I fell in love with the bright-eyed maidens. Captain Jim, “‘smell- ing a mice,”’ kept them at home, which made Dave and I very sad, but we were consoled with an occasional billet deux from the little damsels. One evening, while we were lying at Natchez, we received a notefrem the little maidens, which informed us that the uncle would be away from home that evening, aad requesting us to call. Dave and I donned our best suits, got the barber to shave our beardless faces, gave our boots an extra rub, and then sallied forth. We were met atthe door by Aunt Phillis, and conducted into the presence of the young ladies, Dave and I were very happy that evening, and en- joyed ourselves hugely for about two hours,when Aunt Philtisrushed in, andinformed us that “Massa Cap’in was a-comin’ |’? which caused us to be let out the back way without much ceremony, Passing through the backyard, we were greeted with a savage growl from a fierce bull-dog, which was chained there. As we were going out of the gate, we met Black Dick, who knew us, but pretended to take us forthieves. Dick had been the victim of many of our practical jokes, and seeing an ppporany to have revenge, he let the bull- dog loose afterus. We had asmooth piece of ground to run over to the bank, and off-we started. Soon we heard the dog behind us, which caused us to increase our speed. I being the swiftest on foot, was soon in advance of Davea few yards. I heard his footsteps be- hind me; but soon, to my utter astonishment, Ifound that Dave was passing me. I soon perceived the cause of this, for the dog was snapping at Dave’s calves! On ordinary occasions, or even on @ wager of five or ten dollars, I could outrun Dave, but with such an induce- mentin the rear, or, to usea river phrase, “such fuel to make steam,’’ Dave did splendid running that night! We had not noticed in our hurry that we had ran to a high and steep part of the bank, and over went Dave and the dog, followed closely by me. Down the bank rolled Dave, myself, and dog, with frightful velocity— sometimes dog on top, sometimes Dave was under— thenI was uppermost, dog under, and Dave between us; and so changing our positions, while we rolled down the hill, until, with a tremendons crash, we went through one of the rum-shop windows,which was even with the ground. We made considerable of a disturb- ance among the bottles of lightning, and disturbed a party of boatmen, who were playing poker. We—the dog, Dave and I—did nottarry longto yiew the wreck, or explain, but made ourselves scarce in a very short time ! The next morning Dave and I presented a rather di- lapidated appearance, bruised aud scratched, clothes torn and muddy, and the incident had cooled down our love considerably. Many years have passed since Dave and I came down through ‘“‘Natchez under the Hill,” yet we never pass it, whichis often, without having a good laugh over our youthful loves and mishaps! — Although the roll down the hill mado the lovers forsake their sweethearts, we think the publication of the incident sufficient to secure the engrossment of their names upon the “roll of fame.” ... Speaking of names, we append a paragraph from ‘“‘N. Ferdinand Nickerson,” about an individual whose name indicated the possessor to be QUITE A ‘‘OAKE.” A Jady acquaintance of mine, after her return from a@ walk, a few evenings since, remarked to her husband that she had just met his friends, Mr. Doughnuts, “Doughnuts !”’ said the puzzled husband. ‘Dough- nuts! why Idon’t know such aman!” ‘Why, yes, you do. Don’t you recollect the gentleman who came home with you the other evening?’ ‘Oh, you mean Mr. Crullis?’’ ‘Yes, that’s it—Crullers. I knew it was some kind of a cake, but I couldn’t exactly remem- ber which j” — In the opinion of the lady, he was what the politicians term a doughface. .. . And this peace. In wars they are not to be geen, nor in times of danger or difficulty. They are the grand who was a milintary man, and lovetenant, (he allers ; HALF-BAKED, Pompey and Dan, two of the gentlemen whitewash- ers, who reside in the classic purlieus of Laurens street, were spelling out the bills announcing a recent lecture on ‘‘Cheek.”’ ‘‘What fur day call him Dough Sticks ?’’ asked Dan. ‘‘Dun Enow, dun know, chile,” replied Pompey, ‘‘but specks it am becase he hain’t more’n half baked.” — Notwithstanding the subject is ‘‘half- baked,”’ it is well done... . Our vivacious cor- respondent, ‘‘Lily Lilac,” whose bloom is pe- rennial, has emerged from her solitude, and discourses on themes of interest to both mas- culines and feminines— MATRIMONY AND WHISKERS, Finding no other mischief to be into, I have been answering matrimonial advertisements this winter; and considerable fun Ihave had out of it, too. One young gent, in describing himself, said: “I wear a re- spectable pair of whiskers and genteel mustache, which ifatany time the last-mentioned was not agreeable, could soon be removed.” I had his carte, and found those whiskers were about ten inches in length, which was too much respectability for me. I sent him a cer- tain Mrs. B——’s carte in return, and somehow she has found it out, and will never forgive me for it, because the gentleman returned it. Well, if I had sent my own, he’d have served it‘‘worser,’’ probably. I’ve ae the following lines in commemoration of the event; . Did you ever see my George, On a pleasant, sunny day, When out to take an airing He promenades Broadway ? . As he travels up the street, Don’t he cut a “gallus” dash, With those elegant pair of whiskers, And that genteel mustache ? He says he’s tired of living A lonely single life, Sothrough the medium of the papers He lets us know he wants a wife, He wants one very handsome— One that can cut a dash As she walks beside those whiskers And that genteel mustache! I would that I could please him, And become his darling (?) wife, I’m sure if I only could I'd lead a happy (?) life, With such a handsome man, And such prospect of the cash, And such an elegant pair of whiskers, And such @ genteel mustache | — We guess that will please him, “to a hair.”.........Nature does not favor all mascu- lines alike in the distribution of her hirsute favors, for here is a doleful letterfrom ‘Lieut, Taylor,” who is somewhat troubled because he is a beardless boy, and WANTS A WIFE OR A PAIR OF WHISKEXKS, One day last week, after I had called atthe post-office for my WrEr.y, and was trudging along a muddy road, on my way home, I was addressed by a man on horse- back, who remarked, ‘Bad Da ee i Bub ??? ine my feelings, 2 man of twonty-four-sum. ea tninks himself to be somebody, and who has + been trying for the last four years to raise a pair of whiskers, or even a mustache, but without any success attending his efforts. Whocan imagine my feelings, I say, after being thus addressed by a man not older than myself, but whothought to assume airs because na- ture had furnished him with a pair of ferocious look- ing whiskers? It is notmy fault that I am.notfurnished with that adornment, for I have worn out no less than half a dozen razors, and tried all the patent articles ad- vertised in the newspapers that are “warranted to bring out a luxurious pair of whiskers in six weeks;” but all in vain, and my face is still as smooth as a greased pole; and whatis worse yet. ina few short days, if I do not commit suicide, I shall be an old bachelor, or at least I shall have turned the first corner, and I suppose it is all owing to my having a smooth face. Itis a source of as much trouble to me as *‘Fidgely Jane’s wart on her nose.” Now won’t some ministering angel (who wears crinoline) step forward before that eventiul time comes around, and by taking me for better or worse, save me from. that most horrible of all fates, that of being an old baeh! or, if they cannot do that, I know that they are proverbially kind-hearted, and I appeal to them all to listen to my prayer, and for the sake of humanity, te me how to raise a pair of whiskers? — Beard, they say, is an indication of man- hood; and the ladies may infer from the letter of our correspondent, that being a Taylor, he is but a fractional part of a man, and conse-f quently unable to raise this hirsute adornment. f As he wants both a wife and a pair of whiskey, f some of our female friends may think it Hi i sumption on his part to seek the former until f nature shall have endowed him with the latter. We hope, however, that some one of them will take sufficient interest in his case to drop him a line......... Talking of lines, here is a good > story about a towline, related by ‘Jackson } Blower,” in his reminiscences of BILLY DOBBS, THE GENIUS. Some folks are born with the ‘Old Nick” in ’em, and you can’t drive it out any more than you can make a pair of patent leather boots out of corned beef, or crowd a soda fountain through the touch-hole of a cannon. Billy Dobbs was one of this kind. He cer- tainly was as big a rascal as ever ate string beans. When he graduated from school, he left through the window, pursued by the teacher and three assistants. e thing Billy would do, he would tell the truth. e told we confidentially that he was once taking a trip on a canal boat, for the benefit of his health, when one nightastorm arose and shrank the towline, so thatin the morning it was found to have drawn both horses on board the boat. It proved to be a providen- tial affair for them, however, for the captain had not taken an observation or a gin cocktail in three days, and they were three latitudes and almost a longitude out of their course, and in fifteen minutes more would have ran afoul of the front door of a farm-house and foundered in a barn-yard. I hope, when they take Billy out to be hanged by the neck until he is dead three times, the rope will shrink so they can’t tiea knot in it. I went over to Billy’s house the other night, and his ‘old man’ (those are his words) had a prayer meeting. ‘Jack,’ says Billy, “let’s goup and peep in.’? Soup we went. The good brothers and sisters were kneeling on the floor, and we stood looking on, when all of a sudden Billy darted into the room, shout- ing ‘‘Leap frog, by jingo!’’ and straddling his legs, he bounded over one after another of the good folks until he was stopped by pitching into his grandmother's lap, To CORRESPONDENTS.—The following MSS. are ac- cepted: ‘A Discourse About Ships;” ‘Jerry and Kitty hbompson;” **How the Professor Fixed Them;” ‘A Happy Woman Never Writes.” THE ST. PATRICK’S SOCIETY OF BROOKLYN. DEAR WEEKLY: Will you allow me a short space in your columns to saya few words concerning a ball and supper given on the night of St. Patrick’s Day by the members of the above organization? The enter- tainment came off at Trenor’s Academy, in South Eighth street; and although it wasa modest, unosten- tatious affair, gotten up quietly and without any flour- ish of trumpets, if would compare favorably with many @ more pretentious iestival at which I have “‘assisted.,’”’ As I have no wish to take up too much of your space in the consideration of a matter which is only interesting tothe parties immediately concerned, I will not un- dertake to detail all the pleasant events of the evening, but will content myself by saying that the company present was a very select one, the floor managers were very polite and attentive, the decorations of the ball- room were in excellent taste, the supper was all that the most fastidious could have desired, and the enter- tainment, considered in allits aspects, was a great suc- cess. ; In the course of the evening a number of “‘good men and true’”’ met in thecommittee room, on which occa- sion the health of the worthy President of the Society, Mr. Thomas Stack, was drank, to which that gentle- man responded in a brief but pithy speech. Other speeches followed, by different gentlemen, but the principal speaker present was the genial and warm- hearted Father Malone, who, in response to a unani- mous and enthusiastic call, made a few remarks appro- priate to the occasion, full of the spirit of Christian charity. The next speaker would have been your humble ser- vant, if a certain member of the Society could have had his way; but having got an inkling of what was in the wind, [ incontinently ‘emptied the room of my pres- ence.” The factis J never madeasct speech in my life, and shouldn't know how to go to workaboutit. I will give you, however, an idea of what it would have pleased me to have said, could I have done so. : ** Gentlemen of the St, Patrick’s Sociéty of Brook- DBL TL ATL RELL EN IIS suggests an item from ‘Neil Bush,” entitled lyn:’ Although neither an Irishman nor the son of an Patron Saint, the benignant, philanthropic, pure- souled St. Patrick. Virtue, and not nationality or creed, is the standard by which man should judge his fellow. Tam an American, possessing a love for my country and her institutions, which burns in every fibre of my heart, but I should pray Heaven to make me a Canni- bal if Teould not appreciate true worth wherever I might find it, for the Cannibal cannot be blamed for not appreciating that of which he is ignorant. Thatman must possess 4 dwarfed soul indeed who eannot admire and appland the Christian deeds of St. Patrick, the elo- quence and statesmanship of Burke and Grattan, the genius of Goldsmith and Moore, the lofty patriotism of Emmett, and the legal acumen, eloquence and wit of + Curran and O’Connell. é “The kind pastor who ministers to your spiritual needs, has remarked that this is not an occasion espe- cially adapted to the discussion of political topies, but I must be allowed to make one suggestion, which al- though it has a political bearing is not entirely inap- propriate at this time. It is this: that if the despice able ingrate and black-hearted traitor, Jeff Davis, should succeed in establishing his Southern Confeder- acy, with Slavery as its corner-stone, there never could be Ewitmessed within the limits of hig rule such a Scene as greeted my eyes to-day in New York, Such processions can only take place in communities which are truly free, Your oligarch of the South, who boasts of the purity of his pedigree, and sneers at the North on account of her foreign element and the admixture of foreign and native blood, is not the man to tolerate @ procession in honer of Ireland’s Patron Saint. Those who wish to be treated as his equals must not only be born on the soil, but they must profess the same re- ligion and hold the same political faith that he does. Ihave often thought that of all men in the world, the Irishman in America should be the most uncompre= misingly democratic, and how a democrat can sympa thise with the South is amysteryto me. Ishould sup- pose that the very fact that England leans that way would be sufficient to satisfy the Irishman that he should take the opposite direction. But Iam drifiing into a political speech, and I must stop at once, I will conclude, gentlemen, by giving you the memory of Andrew Jackson, the hero, the pa- triot, and statesman, who had more of the ‘foreign element;’ in his composition than was palateable te the unadulterated and immaculate Southerner, Who had so keen an appreciation of loyalty and so great a ha- | tred of treason that he counted among the errors of his life the fact that he did not hang the first great se. cessionist, John C. Calhoun; and who, had he been President when Sumter was assaulted, would not have committed the error a second time, but would have caught and hung Jeff Davis as high as Haman. I give you the memory of the man of lofty patriotism, indom- itable courage, and iren will, who, fully appreciating the blessings of this great government—knowing it to be the one bright beacon star to the oppressed nations of the earth— “The last lone asylum of sweet liberty—” feeling it to be above all price and worth every sacri- fice—enunciated that sentence which I hope will be- come a law in the heart of every citizen, both adopted and aeoNe born, ‘The Union must and shall be pre» served,”’ This, or something like this, is about what I should have said, but writing it, Isnppose, will do just as well. The company separated about half-past three o’clock, having happened to mar the hilarity of the guests. In conclusion, allow me to wish success to the St. Pat. rick’s Society of Brooklyn, and “long may it wave.” Yours, FRANK FORTUNATUS, TO CORRESPONDENTS. Gossip WITH READERS AND CoNnTRIBUTORS.— Providence Lady.—We are not responsible for the hon- esty of our advertiers, and our readers must be guided by their own judgments in patronizing them. We are careful to exclude everything from our advertising columns calculated to bring a blush to the cheek of modesty or to assist in spreading obscene publications. Such advertisements we cannot be induced to publish at any price. But ifa man wishes to assure the public, through our columns, that he is pxepared to sell five dollar gold pieces for twenty-five cents currency notes, or to send a receipt worth $100 through the mail to any point designated on receipt of a three cent stamp, or to furnish an onguent which will produce a luxuriant pair of whiskers on the face of a ten year old boy, or any other impossible thing, he can have as much of our space within a reasonable limit, as he is willing to pay twenty-five cents a line for. Itis impossible for us to tell how much of truth or falsehood there is in the representations made by our advertisers, and unless we-endorse them editorially, we do not wish our readers to hold us responsible......J, A. C. O’ Conner.-— Your “Spring,” taken as a whole is unquestionably a good poem, but contains some faulty verses, and is be- sides too long. We can make room for only two YOrses. Hurrah} for Spring, hurrah! 1 say, Lot universal gladness reign; Ho! sing and labor all the day— ; For Winter lost sweet Spring we gain. Ho! sing—for Spring gives birth te song— Ho! bards and birds, in concert sing; _ For her sweet reign is far from long, Then, while she reigus siag songs to Spring, Hail! maiden of the sunny brow, Hail! empress of the beauteous flowers, Of all earth’s quartette seasons, thou Art first best favorite of ours! Then welcome, Spring, unto thy throne, Take up the scepter while we sing— (As we’d but sing to thee--alone,) All hail! sweet queen of queens, fair Spring. scceeeC, aA. O.— “Mrs. Dayton’s Treasure” is by far the best. It is a beautiful sketch. The other we do not like. 2.—No. 3.—Itis not...... Katherine H. M.— We cannot tell you when the sketch will be published. We have something like four hundred unpublished sketches on hand, and we select from them each week to suit ourselves. Our contributors will therefore see how impossible it is that we can gratify them all. We must use our own judgment in the matter..... -Harry C. Kilmer.--How should we know whe C. H. Kilmer is? All we know is that we received a sketch with thatname appended as its author, and noticed it as we thought it deserved. If it was not you who sent it why should you trouble yourself.at all about the matter? You sign yourself Harry C. Kilmer. If that is your true name, what business have you to assume that C. H. Kilmer is not an entirely different individual ?......J. A. W.— The engagement ring should be worn on the index fin ger of the left hand...... Lily Lilac.—Thanks for your carte de visete, but we should have been better pleased had you favored us with a personal visit. We agree with you that M. Edessa Wynne has too much talent to think of giving up writing. Indeed, we do not think she could doso. Writing with her isa necessity. Mrs. Fisher is hard at work upon another story for us. “Glendower’’ and ‘*Tomas Tomkins” are too very dif- ferent individuals. They are only similar in this, that each is astupendous genius (!)......Jas. B. Dingman. —If we did not think your contributions were above mediocrity we should not publfsh them. The mere ac- ceptance of them is the best test of their worth..... = Bartley T. Campbell._We do not believe the sketches are lost. They are no doubt among our accepted MSS., and will some day be published, With regard to your serial send it along when you haveit finished..... . Charles H.. Anderson.—The prevalent opinion is that a man having paid his $300 commutation under the first conscription law, is exempted for three years or the war, the term which his substitute would have to serve. There is a difference of opinion on the subject, how- ever, some contending that even under the first law of Congress, &@ man paying the commutation was exempt- ed only for that draft. The matter has never been de- cided by the courts, and until it is, the question will probably be a disputed one...... The following MSS. are received and accepted; ‘‘The Mysterious Sailor;’* ‘‘Wearing the Willow;” ‘Fort Ticonderoga;’? ‘‘Hyen- ing Prayer;” ‘‘Baby;’”? “The Greatest Mistake of a Lite Time;’’ “‘The GirlI Love;’ ‘A Midnight Reverie;” “Sweet Williams;’? ‘‘Adventures in South Africa;’ ‘The Ocean’s Dead;” ‘Mrs. Drayten’s Treasure.’’.... The following are respectfully declined: ‘‘The Dead Soldier,” from the German;”” ‘Song of the Country Boy;” ‘‘Song;’’ *‘A Leaffrom the Life of a Teacher;’’ ‘sLiberty;’’ ‘‘April;’ ‘‘The Sunny Side;’” “She is Not Dead but Gone Before; “Thou Art Growing Oild;’ “To the Friendship Boat Club;’’ ‘‘Anna’s Trial;’’ “Ed. gar Varian;” ‘Life, Death and Immortality;”’ “I Love the Flag.”* STILL ANOTHER GREAT STORY. We this week give the first portion of our truly great romance, ADELINE, THE TEMPTED ; OR, THE SUDDEN MARRIAGE, We hope nobody will. fail to read it, satis- fied, as we are, that it will be pronounced by all one of the greatest romances of real life ever given to the world. The characters are beautifully drawn, the plot is an intricate and ness about the story, as a whole, which is ir- icishman, myself, I can enter heartily into the spirit resistibly fascinating. which leads you to assemble to do honor te Ireland’s we Ns after a night of complete enjoyment, not an incident - deeply interesting one, and there is a natural- £ ee tm es. “= 1m oo sss A Rae EP ROSE * 2 STANZAS. BY SARAH L. MILES. Backward through years, over which dark shadows lying, I gaze as on some bright and fairy scene, With golden skies above, around me, A heaven within, but, ah, the years that intervene Seem but the memory of some dark and fearful dream. Yet never dream could leave such marks of bittex sor- row, Could dim the light from out the beaming eye, _ Could darkly sadden every coming morrow, - See hope depart with many a bitter sigh, And only leave a dreary, longing wish to die. Nay, I have drank life’s bitterest cup of sorrow, E’en drank the dregs, in silence it may be, Have passed through fires, that almost reft in sunder, Body and soul, and laid me helplessly ~ Low at His feet, where ,only help could he. Aye; one by one all earthly hopes had left me, Alone life’s dreary path I still must tread; With none to aid, to love, or eheer me, With darkness round me, darkness overhead, I walked among the living as one dead. T’ve been a wanderer—sought ’mid other scsnes Forgetfulness—and yet it never came to me— Have prayed for it, yet even in my dreams Grim shadows of the past portrayed I see With all their sad and dark reality. Acalm hath settled o’er my heart at lst, A voice hath whispered, ‘Peace be still |” And at the cross my burden I have cast, Seeking, and knowing only what Inight be His will Who chastens sorely, though He loves us atill. Thick lie the ashes over the bitter, buried past, Its loves, its hopes, that ne’er shall wake again, The smouldering fires, aye, all are quenched at last, B’en death is passed, its power to give me pain, Since all the links are broken in life’s golden-tinted chain. Beyond there cometh nought of earthly sorrow, Beyond I see the golden-tinted skies, No fearful dreading of a dark to-morrow, No threat’ning storm-cioud there shall ever rise, Sheltered securely in our Father’s promised paradise. ——> + rs << ADELINE, THE TEMPTED a Siaten Marriage. OHAPTER Le DESTITUTION. The gentle rain may be refreshing and de- - lighful to the sons of luxury; but whatare all those things to the poor, sad creature, alone, friendless, and. destitute, upon that doorstep ? A faded cloak; draggled and damp head-gear; shoes that had’done ineffectual battle with the damp streets, and yielded in the struggle. Does shesleep? Isshe young? Is she beau- tiful? Has the struggle of her life but com- menced, and has she already been stricken down in the battle? Oris she one who has fought long and wearily, and, at length, lain down to die? We shall see. The rain patters down with increased vehe- mence. An army of clouds, tempest-driven and sur- charged with moisture from the great Atlan- tic, fill up every rift in the fair night sky. The million twinkling stars hide their fair bright faces. There is arush of wind, and the rain falls slanting. The horses in a coach, whichis slowly mak- ing its way round the square, shrink back from the sudden change in the aspect of the elements, and the coachman presents as much as he can of the top of his head to the search- ing wind. The coach stops. Not at a door, but in the shadow of a long wall which encloses the fore-court of one of the most princely mansions in that aristocratic square. Three men alight from the vehicle. They do pot speak to the coachman, but one of them who, despite the mildness of the season, is closely enveloped in one of those huge circular cloth cloaks, one corner of which can he thrown loosely over the shoulder, makes a sign to him, which is doubtless understood. He is to wait there. The gentleman of the cloak walks slowly on- ward. The two other persons follow him, arm in . arm, whispering to each other, and keeping that kind of respeciful distance from the per- sonage in the cloak which would imply a cer- tain respectful acknowledgment of his rank and superiority. He mutters to himself, and the sound of his voice is bitter and malevolent. He is passing with a careless gait that glis- tening and rain-bedraggled doorstep, on which lies the forlorn figure we have mentioned. She might be sleeping. The low moan that came from her lips at that moment might be the reflex of some disordered dream; or it might be that gaunt hunger gnawed at her heart, and she uttered that faint sound of sup- plication to the rain and to the wind, to heaven and to earth, and to all human creatures, to have mercy upon her. The personage with the cloak paused. “Speak!” he said; ‘‘who and what are you ?” Thero was no reply. The two gentlemen—for such they looked in dress—who followed him, reached his side, “Your lantern, Captain Finch,” said the man inthe cloak. ‘See what is here!”’ “Common,” replied the person addressed as Captain Finch. ‘My dear sir, this is com- mon, and should not interrupt us a moment in our route to the General’s.” “Look at that!” The man in the cloak pointed to one hand and a portion of the arm of the huddled-up figure on the doorstep. A hand so fair, so ‘) delicately rounded, so suggestive of refinement and high breeding, it was a sight to look upon; and although the falling rain had somewhat in the cloak regarded it with interest. “Not at all common, Finch,” said the other. “This creature must be young; and if the face bears out the promise of the hand, she should be beautiful.” “Pshaw!” cried Captain Finch; ‘‘what have we to do whether she be young or beautiful? Our heads and hands are alike full of work, and, we have too much to do to attend to every pauper on a doorstep.” “Lift up her head,” said the man in the cloak. “But really, Mr. Julian” ‘Peace, I say—lift up her head!” The two men obeyed their imperious mas- ter in silence. The sad, forlorn creature was partially lifted from her recumbent attitude upon the doorstep, and what in the dim light had looked like a portion of her apparel, fell back from her face and brow in a mass of rich glossy hair, that even the cold rain-drops | could not make otherwise than beautiful. The man who was called Finch turned the light of a pocket-lantern on the face. So young, so radiantly beautiful, and yet so pale and so full of suffering! What must those features have been with the light of love, serenity, and peace upon them? They were hardened men of the world who looked upon that fair young face—selfish men, with little of the finer sentiments of human nature in their composition—but even they paid a silent homage to the innocent and child- like beauty of that young girl, so deserted, so friendless, Exclamations of admiration came lightly from the two followers of the man in the cloak. “Flush!” he said; ‘‘we arein favor with for- tune. I see the way now to the accomplish- ment of all we wish. This fair young cre ture, so uncared for, so alone in all the world, so helpless, destitute, and forsaken—before four-and-twenty hours will have passed away she shall be Marchioness of Bulstrode!” ‘Mr. Julian!” exclaimed the two men in a breath. “I have said it! Do you not know me?” The man in the cloak drew himself up to his fUlPuelglin_&gisem from the lantern fell upon his face. It had noble lines in it, but the fiend had surely stamped the sign of his presence there; and no one could look into those eyes without a shudder, “T have said it!’? he added. ‘Quick as the forked lightning does its mission, has an idea developed itself in this fertile brain. This girl will solve all difficulties; and gratitude or fear shallso work in her inmost heart, that she shall wear her coronet but for me; and the large Prope of Buistrode shall mpoy me as their master.” “And—and we, Mr. Julian?” ‘You shall both revel in all the sensual de- lights you were born for. I pay my agents well and effectually.” As he spoke he stripped himself of his cloak, and holding it wide he added, ‘Raise the girl.” His two followers obeyed. He was about to cast the cloak about her, when, aroused to a consciousness of life, and thatshe was in the hands of unknown persons, the young creature opened her eyes. ‘Mercy! mercy!” she cried. ‘‘Have mercy upon me! I starve, anditis without a faull. I could not do the work—they said I could not do it; but I have tried todo it. Oh! if you have Christian hearts, feel for me!” ‘Come! you shall be cared for and pro- tected.” The cloak was cast about her. An unknown dread came over the heart of the young girl. “No, no!” she shrieked; ‘this is not charity. Help! help!” ‘We shall have the police upon us!” said Captain Finch. ‘‘Peace!” said the man who had ‘worn the cloak, and who had answered to the name of Julian. He took hastily from the pocket of the dress evening coat he wore a large closely-folded cambric handkerchief. Holding it by one corner, he scattered its folds, and then crum- pling it up in his hand, he passed it thrice across the face of the girl. There was a pungent, aromatic odor in the air, and the young girl, closing her eyes gen- tly, with one soft sigh, drooped upon the arm of the mysterious stranger. “To the coach!” he said. ‘Quickly! we have no time to spare; and but for this rapidly falling rain we would not have had these five minutes to ourselves. Quick, I say! and see you be respectful to the Marchioness of Bul- strode; foras sure as to-morrow’s sun will shine upon this great city of London she shall stand at the altar and be wedded, and her in- heritance from that ceremony shall be a coro- net; and then let her reason stand the change or sink beneath the shock of such a destiny, she shall be equally mine—then, as forever |” CHAPTER II. LOVE’S SACRIFIOR,. ‘She sleeps!” The voice that uttered the words was soft and low, and amid the perfumed atmosphere of the chamber in which they were spoken, the already but faint flush of light that fell upon its glittering contents was lessened. “Where am I? Oh, heaven!” “Itisa dream!’ “No, a beautiful reality !” “Help! help! Frank, you havesaid you love me; helpme now! Where, in all this great city, can you be, that the voice of your Ade- line will not reach you! Help me, Frank An- stey; help me, if you love me!” The accents in which these words were spoken were shrieking and despairing, and the words themselves came from the lips of that young girl who had been rescued from destitu- ‘Hush !” tion on the doorstep of a lordly mansion—the SS SG ona soiled its beauty, the two followers of the man gilded portals of which had remained closed against her. ‘Less light—she raves!” The soft crimson light that pervaded the apartment was reduced. It was only a gentle twilight. that remained, but yet it was sufficient, although it in some degree blended together all the objects of art and luxury there assembled, to enable Ade- line, as she had just named herself, to look around her with wonder and amazement. Half raising herself on her arm, she with her other hand cast aside the heavy tresses of her silken hair. It was the bed on which she lay that first at- tracted her attention. A mass of gilding, with a mirrored back; tapestries of cloth of gold, and the whole cov- ered in with some gauzy, transparent tissue, through which the faint light came as if mak- ing its way gently through some beautiful mist tinctured with a thousand radiant hues. And beyond that golden tissue she could see faintly into a chamber fitted up with Oriental magnificence, And Oriental was specially the word that might be attached to its style of adornment, for everything she looked upon had something Eastern about its aspect, as though the taste that lavished wealth upon that apartment had been nurtured beneath gz hot sun of an In- dian clime, There was a magic in the scene; the magic of beauty. 'There was the wonder, too, of change; a change so complete that no trans- formation of a fairy tale could equal it. Could Adeline forget that the last words she had uttered before some dreamy trance came over her, were wrung from an oppressed heart —when the whole world about her looked black and lustreless--when cold, famished, and exposed to the unpitying inclemency of the elements, she seemed alike deserted by heaven and earth? Oh, what a change! The atmosphere about her was warm and genial. A faint, dreamy suggestion of perfume was in the air. The bed on which she lay was # mass of yielding down; and through that golden tissue that surrounded it, and seemed to shut her in even from the profanation of a look, she could ‘seo how the coverlet glistened with its inter- mingled silken and golden threads. She clasped both her hands then over her eyes. “Oh! what a dream—what a dream! and how vivid!” ‘Tt is xeal,’’ said a voice. Adeline started. She had shut out the glorious vision about her fora moment, and when she opened her eyes again she scarcely expected to see it still in Bll its glitter and re- fulgence. But there it was. ‘The gilding, the mirrors, the silken hangings, the soft, golden, web-like tissue, and the faint light that pervaded all, It could not be a dream. The voice spoke truth when it uttered those words, ‘It is real!”—and that voice was ten- der, low, and full of feeling—musical, and in accord with all the bright things around; and as she listened to it, Adeline became more filled with wonder than with alarm. “Speak to me again,’’ she said. ‘Tell me where I am, and what isthe meaning of all this glittering change ?” ‘Do you love?’’ said the voice. ‘Is there any one whose accents linger in your ears like sweetest music? Has that one feeling been awakened in your heart which, if such proof were wanting, would satisfy the veriest skep- tic that humanity is something akin to heaven? Is there one in all this wide world for whom you would give life itself? One who would be alike dear in poverty and woe as in riches and splendor ?” Do you love, Adeline— do you love?” : A cry burst from the lips of the young girl. Mingled with that ery was the name of him who fulfilled all those conditions to her young heart. ‘“Frank-—-Feank Anstey!’’ “It is well!” said the voice. ‘He is rich?” ‘No, no—alas! no. The chill hand of pov- erty rests upon his heart; or—or I had not been what I was!” Tears sprang to her eyes. Some saddened recollections melted her to tears, and amid allthe mute glory and mag- nificence of that chamber, the most precious thing within it—that young human heart—was full of grief, “Boe calm,” said the voice. ‘Behind the murkiest cloud shines the most glorious sun- light. Does he love you?” “Frank love me? With all his heart— with all his soul; but he is poor —so poor, so strug- gling, even for life. And I, too, a poor work- girl, fainting through excess of toil—thrust in- to the street to starve because my mere physi- cal nature would not endure more work! Oh! itis terrible—terrible! We love and would cling to each other, but we dare not; and dis- tant as the poles asunder, with mountains of icy poverty between us, we struggle with the world, apart and desolate!” —_ . Adeline sobbed as if her heart would break. “There is an enchanter,” said the voice— ‘tan enchanter that can change all that. What would you give, what would you do, to beable to turn to this Frank Anstey, whom you love so well, and offer him boundless wealth—the road to honors, distinctions, titles? -Wouldit not be worth some adventure, Adeline, to do all that?” ‘The venture of a world!” she shrieked, through her sobs. ‘Ihe venture of a world! Tell me how.to do it, and should I perish in bestowing upon him all that good, I had not lived in vain!’’ ‘You need not perish. It may be all for you | fair sky of your happiness. and allfor him. There will be no cloud in the You need have no fear of the enchanter who would produce the change. His wand is but the bow of Cupid; his sceptre an arrow tipped with the light of love. Say, Adeline, will you do what will be pointed out to you, and all that has been pro- mised may be brought about without a pang, without a tear ?” “Tell me the means! Speak to me again! The words are music; butit cannot be—it can- not be!” She strained her eyes to catch sight of the mysterious being who uttered such glittering promises; but she could see no one, although the voice was close at hand. Then, as it spoke again, she almost sus- pended her breath to listen, in her deep inter- est, to what was said. “This house,’’ said the voice, in the same low tones, ‘‘is the habitation of a man-rich From the golden East he has brought countless wealth; and the object, the dream and ambition of his life, has been to and noble. hoard up fabulous amounts of gold and jewels, fancying that in them lay the secret of human He found his mistake, and then his heart hardened, and he stood apart from human kind, suspecting all, denying all, and happiness. having no sympathy with those about him. But now the time has come when he must part with all his gold and all his jewels, in order to step into that narrow chamber where there is no light, no glitter, and where the worm is his Death is already laying his only eompanion. hand upon this very man, but with the touch of the Destroyer’s fingers, the erust of selfish- ness and avarice that had encircled his heart. has given away. He is childless, friendless, and rather than that his great wealth should be swept into the coffers of the State he would bestow it all even upon you,” ‘Upon me ?”’ ‘Even 80.” ‘What am I to him?” “Nothing. But you may be.” ‘What?’ “His wife 1” A cry of despair came from Adeline’s lips. The bright vision of weelth to lay at the feat of Frank Anstey faded away. The glorious edifice of magnificence which the invisible stranger’s words seemed to have built up in her imagination with golden bricks, was scat- tered to the dust. Again she felt that she was the friendless, houseless, destitute girl who had nothing to offer but her love to him who dared not accept of it, amid the chill blasts of poverty that howled about them. ‘Reflect!’ said the voice. “ “No, no, it cannot be! There needs no re- flection! I shudder at the thought! Nor would Frank, even ifI were'to sacrifice myself to cast the wealth of a world at his feet, ac- cept one glittering piece of gold on such ccon- ditions. No, no; itis part of the dream, and it has faded away.” ‘Liston |” ‘No! I will not say do not tempt me, for it is no temptation. If I have been brought hither but to listen to such words, take me back again amid the cold wind and the hurry- ing rain, and let me hope for gentle pity from some passing stranger.” ‘Listen still; you have not heard all.” “And yet enough.”’ ‘No, Adeline. This man whom you would wed would pass away from life with the hap- piness of thinking thatafter a century of hard- ness of heart, and unsympathic feelings for his kind, he had at last done one action which, like the tear of repentance that washes away a world of crime, would herald him to heayen. Do you understand me ?”’ ‘Scarcely.”’ “He who would marry you is one hundred years ofage. He would be to you, perchance, the husband of an hour; but, as his wife, you would inherit his name and his wealth. He would leave existence with the thought that he had left two young and happy hearts behind him to bless his memory; and for this slight sacrifice, which might be but for an hour— Ss board the Missouri, homeward bound from Caleutta.” ‘My lord-——” ‘Silence! You know why I employed you as secretary to answer begging letters and see beggars. Everybody had a bad opinion ofyou. In the state-cabin they said you had a dewn look, and were a villain. I liked you for that. I wanted a villain; thatis, a real, natural one. sham honest men. Bah! I hate everybody and everything,” ‘“T have had the honor, my lord, of often hearing your lordship’ 8 opinion of humanity.” ‘Silence!” t With a roar the demand for silence came from the lips of some one so shrouded and so singularly wrapped up by the blazing fireside of a drawing-room, that it would have been quite impossible to guess, but for the human and articulate seunds, what sort of animal it was that occupied so large a space on tho hearth. of clothing and the hind legs of a magnificent. _ ly-carved chair. A couple of gauze mosquito nets, such as are used in India to ward off the night attacks of venomous insects, covered completely the per- sonage who had given utterance to such un- favorable opinions of human nature, ly hot, andit was brilliantly lighted by wax candles, The air, too, was laden with the odor of rare Indian perfumes, while most of the ornameuts and appointments were decidedly Oriental. A few paces from the singularly covered up individual by the fireside stood a maa with folded arms. He looked calm and serene so far as his atti- tude was concerned, but he was ghastly pale, he was engaged in some enterprise which not only taxed all the energies of his heart and mind, but was of deeply absorbing interest. | The light, as well from the fire as from the -wax candles, fell fall upon him. The reader as lovked down upon that pale, determined face ence before, when faintly il- lumined by a hand-lantern, as he looked dewn upon the destitute girl on the damp, splashed doorstep. He was the man called by his associates Ju- lian. The man who exercised paramount au- thority over the two followers, Captain Finch and Mr. Spray, who had taken orders from yee mouth implicitly. “Yes, yes,” growled the voice from within the many folds of Indian shawls and gauze nettings; ‘‘yes, I hate everybody, and have reason to do so, Everybody except Richard Bellamy. I forgot him; but for him—ha! ha! —I should have been a dainty dish to set be- forea tiger. I remember it now as though it were but yesterday— the hunt in the jungle at at Moorhallabad. I was young and fall of life --that is, younger than Iam now; and Rich. ard Bellamy sprang upon my back. No, no! What am I saying? A tiger;a royal Bengal it was. The tiger sprung at my throat, but Rich- ard Bellamy did not desert me! Everybody is a villain except Richard Bellamy! He grap- pled with the beast and carried him off in his jaws—no, that’s not it—it was the tiger! Then I went after them, for I was unscathed, and saved him again. Do we love creatures that we have saved better than when they have saved us? and yet love them something that they have savedus? Ah! bah! boo! [I hate everybody! You, sir! what's the day? what's the date? what’s the month?” “The eighth of April, my lord,’* Silence!” - There was a few moments’ pause, during mass of apparel which shrouded the most no- ble Field-Marshal, the Marquis of Bulstrode, K; @: Bi, 4 Go 0. oe, “The eighth of April? I might have known it, for Lam colder here—eolder at the heart. At hali-past twelve o’clock this day I shall have completed my hundredth year, and I which might even end upon the very steps of| hate everybody. Ihave hated everybody for the altar—you would become a marchioness, Then you would send for Frank Anstey, and holding both his hands in yours, you would tell him what you had dono to make him great and and richer than an Oriental despot. happy.” Adeline could not speak—a choking sensa- tion came over her; she felt bewildered at the prospect that these strange words opened hbe- fore her mental gaze. “You aceept?’’ said the voice, in its softest and most dulcet tones. “No,”? “Yes, for his sake.” Adeline shricked out the word yes. CHAPTER III. THE BENGAL TIGER. “Get out! Kill him! Mash him! for mad tigers! Get out, I say! in! More fire! This is England, is it? Oh, of course! the fellow Sir Fazakerley Shaw! I hate the fellow’s name! More fire! Cold—cold—cold! Cold in limbs, cold in brain, cold in heat! Who waits there? Who waits, I say?” “J, your lordship.”’ ‘s