Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 5, 1873, Page 6

inever out of fayor is its cxpense. Being berond EEET R X UL AL, vAalNUARX 9, LOIJ. METROPOLITAN MODES. Nature's Teacking vs HModistes' Practices—New Year's Styles. Different Kinxds of Lace--Its Subjection to the Whins of Fashion. ‘Where and How Lace is Made ‘Why It Appeals to - Women. From Our Own Corresvondent, TEw Yo, Dec, 31, 1672 Until we begin to make fitnees the first re- quirement in our wardrobes, good dressing and fashionable dressing must be, in the main, dis- tinct from each other. Just so loog as Mrs. *Tomkins fails to perceive that the gown render- ing Mrs. Johnson's proportions more etately +and gracefal makes her own short limbs and ‘squat figure more dumpy and inelegant, just so long must nine-tenths of tho feminine sex be improperly apparclled. CONTRAVENING NATURE. Natoro does not give with the niggard hand of Fashion. Bho allows to each of her createres atintand form of its own. As everybody is aware, no two leaves of & tres, no two fosthers of & bird, no two scales of o fish, dowever much thoy seom to resemble each other, can be found, identical in hue, or form, orshape. To pursue the familiar analogy. tho coior of eyes and hair, the form and expression of features, differ in every individual. Yot we are absurd enough to demand thot every well- dressed woman must be arrayed like every other ‘well-Irossed woman, ignoring Naturo's 1awa set forth in geript 8o plain that those who run may Tead. But, since the uplifting of one feeble ‘voice can scarcely work a revolution in rufles, or a transformation in traius, nothing is left but to note tho changes in style, whatever the ‘beenty destroying rosult. i Many of the richest toilottes of the winter - will make their appearance on New Year's; for, though the habit of calling on that dsy is yearly felling into non-observance, still a sufiicient number preserve the custom—by no means un- pleasant originally—to render tho serious dis- ~ cossion of first-of-January gowns interesting to . the worldly-minded. INTERDICTED. Trwo habits of the past aro this year to be ban- ished from the best houses hera: wine from tho Iuncheon-teble, and decollete dresses from the drawiog-room.. Onco in & while, fashionable eocicty’ has & shock of common sense and it has discovered of late that the miscella- Deons sipping of Champegne at innumerable aidnbnm?s is not always attended by beneticent ults; and that tho broad dsylight does mot -enhonce uncovered necks and erms. So, for the future, we'll none of them. A .. NEW YEAR'S BTYLES. £ The favorite style for New Year's and all da; oceptions will be plain silks, of mauve, peari, , lavender, lilsc, Tescds, ecru, and other icate tints, cut with demi-trains (in some in- {stances scalloped or pointed on the edge), either ‘trimmed very high, and worn with a basque and 1o overskirt, or the underskirt undecorated, tho overskirt and basque being elaborately orna- mented. These dresses are very pretty 2nd be- coming, if the front of the waist, from the neck to tho third button, lie turned under like the ,old-fashioned V necks, and a fishu be worn of hnis sud crepe do chine in some contrasting color. . The growing appreciation of LACE ‘a3 a necessary part of the foilet is o most hope- “ful sign of our uniform taste. Only a remlar- tist in_dress knows tho fall valucof lace wof all kinds. It Boftens bold colors; covers Harge lines; tones Gown bad comploxions ; otho- ‘realizes good ones. Ithas been too long neg- flected by the msjority of American women, who {are just beginning to learn that lace is tho grostest beautifier within tho modiste's reach. i conrse, it is expensive, the best of it; Point, point d'appligue, Duchessc, Mechlin, Valon- iciennes, aro all bevond tho purse of the masucs. 1But there s tulle (no laceis more becoming), {and ‘wash blonde, which can be pleated axi ‘washed many times without injury; snd tulle ‘and wash-blondo are within the Teach of all. A Tuche of blonde in neck and wrists revivifies an old gown, and improves a new one, &8 few sus- ‘pect. Such pretty jebots and ties are mado ith simple muslin and footing, that it _seems & . pity any woman should do hoself the injustico of going without them. .A yard of muslin at ¥5 cents or 81, a dozen yards of narrow footing lat 20 cents the dozen, with an hour’s work b Imachine and hand, will keep » lady in fres truffies for & month, and will be such an addition ‘h'lmr tollette that thenceforth ugly, ancompro- her ing linen collars will be atricken forever from necls. Itis odd that go ‘dainty a material as laco ‘ehonld be subject to the cam:u of fashion ; but it is, quite 2s much as anything clse. v POINT Ms the one exception; and the sole reason itis nll others in price, wo can never afford to disre- gard it, lest wo be suspected of & bins toward ccononly. Point lace, notwithstanding tho del- cacy of the finer qualities, is a durable—possibly the most durable of all—lace. With careful treatment, it will last for two or three genera- tions; =0 {hat, if it only be_yellow enough when in our possession, we may bo supposed to have had grandmothers. Tho “absurd pretense. of admiring yellow lace is increzsing, and mauy 1adies put their new purchases through a pro- cess of staining by means of a eolution of coflec- - grounds, till they attain the desired diecolora- tion. That anyono can_ conscientiously like yellow lace seems incredible, for it loses most of its soft virginity of appesrance when it turns from white, and, even to the grestest connois- seur is unpleasantly suggostivo of & mecd of ‘vuigar sosp and water. TIE RAREST TACE in the world,—and, therefore, tho most_highly valued,—is old Venotian Point., It is not in the markef, or hias not been for half 3 centary, and was only obtainable oncoin s while from' the enle of the offects of somo anciert, but impoverished, family in Europe. The se- cret of its make vwas lost in the sixteenth contury, and, though thero havo been ‘most patient and diligont efforts to recover it ever since, it is only within the last laif-dozen years that & poor woman in -Floronco has achieved the long-songht-for result. OF course, this will bo sonrce of revenue to Italy in fo- turo, and {he Tteliun Government, recognizing the value of tho recovery, bave cranted the sol right of manufacture to the poor Florentine for sixteen years. This is not a piece of unprece- dented generosity, inssmuch ns that luc woman is the only possessor of the gecret, and, shonuld £ho choose nover to impart it, it would, in all probability, pass sgain into oblivion. HoNTTON, another besutiful febric, is almost out of use. Tho pretty anccdote of Queen Yicioria and tho iace-workers of Devonshire will always be ro- membered s ono of tho best acts of her peace-. fol reign. Learning, beforo her marriage, thut Bundreds of unemployed women were in groat need becanse Honitonlaco bad fallen irto’ di favor, she detormined io restore it to fashio and, to that ond, ordored her wedding-dress an veilofit. By this feminine coup delal, the beautiful sfuff wns mndo at onco *the rage.” But it has sinco lost its populanity. o notwithstanding _ the fact that _ all e Princesses of England have worn it on their edding-robes, the Princess Louise oven design- Pog tho pattern of her own veil. To-dsy, I ven- ture {o say that, if a whole et were wanted, it would have to be imported direct. LNOLISH TUREAD, the finer pecimens of which aro_of much the £ame sppearance, and neazly 2 besutiful in do- sign a8 tho incomparable Mochlin, has almost entiroly diszppoarcd from the market. It ia o8 profty as over, but Fachion decreed against it, and soitisleft'to tun its fairy web to golden strands in some dark corner, uatil the real Jovers of laco happen to remember its existonce, and Lring it back to favor. - VALENCIENSES is, and has been for several vears, tho favorite Ince for ruffice, collars, cuife, atd trimming. Iicfined mmutifdn!, it ray ea in qp and ‘prico Sher Lace. - through more a2 almost any DUCHESSE LACE, M Z which mado its appearance short time ago, is slready past counteuence. TLis nover secms guite Tike ofher laces, being coarser in design and texture, and apparently. intended for; decoration of curtains and bed-linen. - 'WHERE LACE IS MADE. . - i It scems not to bo widgly known thatthe finest, richest, and coatliest laces come from Belgium, nol from France, though the best French marks, and_go by Frenc namee. Drussels, Aniwerp, Gficnt, Meclilin, Bruges. Ypree, and other towns manufacture the best articles in Furope, and sond them to Paris for dieposal. Tho exquisitely soft flax of which tho thread is spun i worth in Belgium many times its weight in gold ; g0 it is noy surprisisy that the completed matorial should: bezr s bigh prices on this zide of the Atlantic. t 18 said that Switzerland furnishes nicer Iaco than France, which, like the product of Bel- um, is sold under a Gallic nomenclature. Bt s appears improbable ; for the Swiss peasants —and to the pesséniry belong, the lace-workers of all nations—seem unfitted by nature to fol- low au occupation requiring sauch wonderful delicacy of manlpulation. Yet, to tho contrary is to bo rcmembered the hundreds of Swiss {watchmakers who give to the world the finest motal bandiwork of the time. SEVERITY OF THE TOIL. In some of tho Flemish work-shops, it i necessary for thawomen to be kept in totally datk rooms, in order to seo tho thread they are _sginnln'i, and which is so minute a8 to be invis— ible in tho daylight. This process so unnatural- ly intensifies the power of vision that, in the sunshine, they can scarcely see. Ths lace- ‘makers generally are short-lived. Thoir trade is 50 confining and exhisusting they usnally die be- fore 40. The majority of them have erited their trade through long lines of ancestors, who Dreathed but to croate tho dainty fsbrics, and died that their children might in turn spin ' their lives into priceless webs, and perish. A romance, » Lidden mystery, clusters abont the exguisitd flazen fibres, that cndears them to every fino womun's sonl, ' Tho possibilities, tho dreams, the aspirations, that have been twisted and wrought into tho fairy meshes by thoso othor women whose existence, from the cradle to tho grave, is bound by the spider-like thread in chaics a8 strong s steel, appeal to the senti- mental in every. feminine breast. That we should love it forits own sake is natural,—for it is fair to the eyo, fino to the touch. Thatwo should lova it because it is an sid to beauty which cannot be overestimated, is natural, too. But it is most natural that we should love it be- causo it mezns homo, and comfort, aud peace to numberless souls. Lot us not grudge the pit- tance wo pay for it ; always romembering that the gold we give is tho life-sustaining power to thousands of our unsoen sisters. FURBELOW. i S CHARITY. To the Editor of The Chicago Tribune : Bin: While there is so much suffering and wrong everywhere, wo should all strive to be Good Samaritans, and not permit it to be said of us that, seeing a suffering brother on one side,we carelessly passed by on the other. Yet how often do we pass by the poor and the distressed, little heeding the example of Him Who, while on earth, abounded in blessed works of charity and love to all, and Who, departing, left so many Loly precopts for our guidance, ia tho Book of Life, besides what He has spread ont bsforo us on the fair Pagos of Naturo, written in a Ianguage that all may nnderstand. The gentle flowers And silently their bounties shed, {o teach Mankind unostentations charity, With arm in arm, the forest rise on high, And leszons give of brotherly regard. . How earncetly, then, should we strive to ban- ish far from us *‘ the evil that doth so easily be- set us,” and scek to nourish within ourselves all that is “‘good, true, and beautiful,” and en- deavor each day to grow in the direction of gen- erous enthusiasm, of quick and thoughtful kindness, and, above all, growin charity. And, if we thus make it a rule inlife to ‘Do unto others a8 we would that others should do unto us,” and to “ Ba charitable,” we shall find that the practice of these holy precopts will make us . each dsy more fit for the society of the blest in Heaven, where. I trust all my readers are en- deavoring to “lay mp treasnres.”. And, if we but persevero, the hand of the Omnipotent will sustain us amid the trials and temptations of enrth, and, at the Judgment Day, give us & place in the resurrection of the just. The only charity that “shall avail us any- thing in that great dayis * that which flows from a sense of duty and a hope in God. This is the charity that treads in sccret those paths from which all but the lowest of human wretches have fled. It is that charity which no labor can ‘Weary, no ingratitude detach, no horror disgnat ; that pardons, that suffers, that is seen by no man, and ishonored by no one save God ; but, the great laws of Nature, does His will in silonce, aud looks to a future and a better world for its reward,” whers there will be no n{fior- tunity of helping the distressed, for there all is peacs, and Jove, and joy, with the clondless light whichi emanotes from the Throne of Majesty a!n!unfi in and over all things, i &flt - yond tho ll‘cmy ‘gates all that has been the cause suffering and sorrow here. X. of so mucl PRISCILLA. Ay little Lovesits in the shade . - Beneath the clirl And gravely sews in a half-dream Tho dainty measures of her seam ‘ntil the twilight closes, 1100k and long, yet have no cars To break her maiden musing ; 1 idly toss my book away, ‘And watch Ler pretty fingers stray Along their task confusing, The dews fall and the sunset ight Goes creeping o'er the meadows, And still with serioun eyes cast down, Bhe gravely sews her wedding-gown Among the growing shadows, 1 n0eds must gaze, thoogh on her cheek ‘The bashful rosés quiver— Ste a0 modest, imple eweet, 1ot or pligrim, at her fee! Would fain adore forever. ® A heavenly pesce dwells In her heart ; Her love is yot half duty. Sereno and serions, -gnpmmmmn{,.' '8 partly womaz, Thhp.mhyfim buuli ) She 1a so shy that all my prasers Scarce win a few small kicses— She lifts her lovely eyes to mine ‘And softly grants, with blush divine, - Buch slender grace 25 this s, 1 watch her with a tender care And joy not free from szdness— For what am I that I should take “This gentle sonl and think to make Its futaro daya all gladnoss 7 Can I fulfll those majden dreams 1In some imperfect fashion? - 1 am 1o hero, but 1 know. 1 love yon, dtar,—tho rest I throw Upon your sweet compassion. —Xelly Af. Hutchinson, in Harper's Magazine for Jan- wary. Captain Marryatt and Henry Clay. From the Lexington (Ky.) Observer anc Reporter. Tho following_ incident was related to us by Judgo R. A. Buckner, of this city, who was pres- out at the time it occurred. Captain Marryatt, whilo in this country, was prosent at Ashland, by invitation of Mr. Clay, and a number of gentlemen had boen invited to meet tho noted Lnglishman at a state dinner. " After tho wino Lad began to ciroulato, Mr. Clay, in conversation, made some allusion fo the Eng- lish custom which requires the guests on such occasions to present tho hend servant of their entertainer with somo gratuity befors leaving. This offended Captain Marryatt, who, in a very iy emphatic mannes, doniod ibe oxistolce of aay = custom. Mr. Clay responded that such must be the case, for he, when dining with Lord Castlerezgh, had forgotten it, and had been reminded of it by his Lordship’s butler. i . Captain M. scemed to bo still offended, and “wia about £o make some testy remark, when his entertainer sent the decanter to him by a ser- vant, and, in his politest manner, extending his own glags, eaid: “A glass of wine with yon, Captain Marryatt.” 0 Captain, pushing the decanter aside, re- sponded : “No! I wantno wine; I havodrank too much already.” Turning to Lewis B—, a wit and s * good fellow,” who would take too much at times, Mr. Clay eaid, quietly: ‘A glass with yon, Lowis, my son, I see you have not taken too much.” e D o e The First Use of Mahogany in Enge % 1and. Mshogany, though for centuries used by the Spaniards in ship-building, was first tried in Eoglaud, in King street, ' the lust century. Dr. Gibbons, an eminent physician, was build- ing a Louse; his brother, a West Indis Captain, who had brouglt eome mahogany as ballast, sent him some of the wood 88 a quriosity ; but tho car- entors, finding it hard towork, threw it aside. Soon efter this, Mrs. Gibbons, wanting a candle _box, sent Wallasion, a cabinet-maker in_Long- 2cre, some mehogany to make it from, and wonld sllow of no oxcuse. This box was made, an iked. The doctor then tried a bureau, which his friends, especially the Duchess of Buckligf hm‘nmought beautiful for color and polish. The Duchees begged some mahogany, and had & _bureau also, and the fams of it soon made the fortune of the new.w 1fr. Timba says that the present doors of a few of the butter class of old hiouses in King streot are solid mahogany.— All the Year Round. ! ok ; THE KING LEAR OF THE RUSSIAN STEPPES. DY 3I08, BORY PALLISER. . Traulated from Itan Tourguenef. Osio winter's evening & party of college friends had sssembled together, and tho conversation turned upon Shakepeare, and upon tho differ- et churacters in_bis plays, which were all drawn with such astonishing truthfulness thot <ach one conld name an Ofhello, s Hamlet, or & Falstaff as among the persons they had chanced tomeet, *And I, gentlemen,” said our host, “have known King Zear.” And he began his narrative. 1 passed my early youth in the country, in the domain of my mother, & rich Russian’landed proprietor in the Government of X—. The most striking impreseion that his remained up- on my momory, is the pereon of Martin Petro- vitch Kharlof, our nearost neighbor. In my life T nover saw any one like him. Imagine a man of gigantic statoro, with an enormous body, up- on which was set, without any ‘fip earance of neck, monstroushead, surmounted by atangled Toad of grapish, yollow hair, slmost Joining hia shaggy eyebrows. s broad, flat nose, little bluo eyes, s mouth, ' His voico was b but sonorous. Tho expressio his face is not dissgreesblo; thero was a grandeur in it, but 8o strange, 80 extraordinary! And then, what arms, what legs, what shoul- ders! Summer and winter, Kharlof wore s kind of tunic of groenish cloth, ‘confined at tho waist by a Circassian belt. Inever saw him woar & cravat, He breathed slowly and heavily, like s bullock, and walked noiselessly. His Horculean strength inspired the respect of all the conntry round, and various logends wora circulated relat- ingto it. It was affirmed that one day, on meetin, ar, ho felled it to the earth with hisfist ; an that, on snother occasion, having surpriged a tin hisorchard in the act of stealing his hives, he flung him over the hedgo, togother with the Borse and cart he had brought to carry away his plunder. But Kbarlof did not pride himaelf on his physical strength so much as upon hia birth, bie position, and the mental superiority for ‘which he gave himself cradit. My mother received him with especial kindness, for he had eaved herlife, twenty years sgo, by stopping her carriago on thoedge of a deop ravine into which the horses had fallen. Tho ehafts and hamess were broken, but Kharlof mever left his hold of the wheel, though the blood was starting from his finger-nails. It was my mother who bad given him his wife, an orphan reared in hor own house. BShe died young, lesving two daughters, the eldest of Whom was married. Kbarlof waa a good Ianded propriotor. Of tho cbedience of pessantry it waro idle to speak. Large and heavy as ho was, he never went on Toot, but drove a loiy droski, drawn by an old, decrepit horse, bearing the fcar of & wound it §18d received in battle. Bohind the droski sat alwaya his little Cosgack boy, Maximlka. 1 have already said that my mother trented Kharlof with respect. She saw in him 8 kind of devoted giant, who, if needs be, would not huummflg}m whole_army of_revolted serfs. Besides, ho was loyal, never borrowed money, never drank, and, if 'he_ was deficient in education, was not wanting in inteligence. Who_would have thonght this gisnt, so confi- dent in hin own powers, was subjected to fits melancholy ? They would come on without any apparent cause, and he would then shut Limseif up in his room and call his Cossack Doy to read or to sing to him—the Colossus Kharlof foared On his sunburnt face was and dezth. Men of grast physical power aro genoral phlematic, but this was not his case. His wratl rss ensily eroused, eud 1o ano had tho porar of ‘more readily irritating him than the brother of bis decoased wife, &-contemptible little being, Dalf buffoon, haif parasite, who lived with us. His pame was Bitachoff, but ho always bore the -sobriquet of Souvenir. 1 was anxious to see Kharlof’s houso, and one day proposed to return with him; it Wwas situ- ated at the top of the hill. We entered the court-yard. On ono sido was an old habitation with thatched roof; on the other, a newly-built house. *“Bee,” enid Ehalof, *in'what & hovel my father lived, and look at ‘the palace I havo Duilt for myself.” It was so_slightly built, it Tooked like a castle of.cards. Five or six dogs, each one_ugller than the other, ealutod us with forious barkings. Theso aro our shepherd dogs,” said Kharlof, “of the true Crimenn race. Be quiet, you rascals, or I will bang you all.” A young man in & long nankeen coat appeared at the doorstep of the new houee, and reverent- Iy assisted his father-in-low to alight. “‘Anna,” called Kbarlof, “the son of Natalis Nicolavno condeacends to visit us. Wo must entertain him. Arrange the table immediately. . Whero is little Evlampis ?” “Sho is not at homo; she is gone to the fields to gather com-flowers.” Eviampia was the yousser danghtor, and hor fathers favorite. a fow minutes all was ready. Burprised at the rapidity with which Kharlof orders were executed, I followed him into the dining-room, where, on s table, covered with » white-patierned red cloth, was laid ont the Tepast, consisting of curds, cresm, wheaten Dread,'and powdered sugar, mixed with cinamon. Whilo I was eating, Kbarlof fell ssleep. Anna stood before me perfectly motionless, her oyes fixed upon the ground, and_through the window 1 could seo her husbandleading my horse up and down the court-yard, polishing with is handa o curb-chain whick ho Lad Qetached from tho 8. My mother did not like Eharlof's eldest danghter. She thought her proud. Toward my er she was cold_and _roserved, though she had placed her_ at schaol, found her & husband, and presented her, on the day of her marriage, with & thousand roubles and an Indisn shawl Anna was the terrorof the wives and dsugh- ters of the peasants. Khbarlof woke up. “Anna.” something on the piano that: giouas theee young gentlomen.” Itumned my head and saw the pitisblo somblance of a harpsichord in the corner of the room. 44 obay, father, but can play nothing which would interest the gentlemen, and, besides, the sizings aro all broken.” “Then," said Khariof, Volodks shall show you the granary,” calling to his_son-in-lsw, who 5aa atill walking my horse up and down. Viadimir Slotkine was an orphan whom my mother had sent to tho village school, and sfter- ward married to Anps. She called him her little Jow, and his hooked nose, black eyes, and red lips'were quite of the Oriental type. A thirst for gain was the leading fosture in Lis charac- r. 3 In one of the tarns of tho rond I mot tho sec- ond dsughter of Kharlof. A wreath of corn flowers encircled her head. We saluted each other in gilence. Evlampia was less besutifal than her sister, but of a different stamp. Tall and strongly made, everything in her was on & large scale—head, limbg, hands, teoth, and, above all, her eyos of & dull blus with heavy eye-lids,” Thia monumental being was s truo daughter of Eharlof. Her plait of fair hair was 60 long che was obliged to twist it throe times round her head. There was something wild, almost forocious, in the expression of her eyes, “ Sho is untamesble, of Cossack blood,” said Ebarlof. In my heart, she intimidated me }h'x-‘u1 colossal being too closely resembled her ather. One_day, toward evening, in the month of June, Kbarlof was announced. My mother was astonished, as he never paid such late visits. When he entered the room he threw hi a chair near the door, and looked so pale, the expression of his face so disturbed, that my mother exclaimed, *Spesk, speak; Something olancholy re- hua happened. Hia your 8 of m turne Eharlof knit his brow. “No, it is not my melancholy; that comes on at the full of tho moon. Allgw me to ask you one question, 6. What do you think of death #" #0f what?" said my mother, startled. *I have just had a nocturnal hallncination,” he said, in & low tone, “a nocturnal hallucina- tion,” he repeated. “I sm s great scor of visicns, Rhaclot gavo & deop sigh and contin- ued, *Abont a week back,—1t was oxactly on the eve of Bt. Pater,—I Isid down to rest myself, and fell zsleep. Snddenly I saw enter my Toom a black colt, which began to gambol and grin at me with 'his teeth. And thom, this same colt turned around snd gave me s kick on the elbow, in the most sensitive part, and T awoke. My left arm was powerless, and 50 was my left Jeg. It is paralysis, I said to myzelf. By degrees circulation_returned, but & creeping sensation ran throgh all my joints, and ass00n as I open tho palm of my hand it be- ¢ But Martin Petrovitch, you have been only Iying upon your arm when asleep.” o, Madame, it is not whst you are pleased tossy. It isa warning I have Teceived ; it is the snnouncement of my death. Conutflnuntly 1 come to tell you my intentions withont loss of time. Not wishing that death ehould take me unawares, I, the humble slave of - the Almighty, bave determined to divide, in my lifetime, all my property betweon my two dsughters, Anna and Evlampia.” # A reasonable ides, only it appears to me you are in too great a hurry.” “And as I desire in this same affair,” con- tinued Kharlof, ““t0 observe the necessary 155;1 forms, I beg of your son Dmtri, and to my re tion, Bitschkof, I preszribe it as a duty, to wit- ness the accomplishment of the formal ‘sct, and the giving over possession to my daughters * The diminutive of Viadimiz, he said, “play |* Anna and Evlampia, which act is to b accom- plised the day after to-morrow, at noon, in my own dominion of Joskova, with the participa- tion of tke suthorities who have been nvited to attend.” Kharlof bad great difficulty in deliver- ing this formal speech, which ho had evidently learned by heart, “In it yourself,” asked my mother, “who has prepared this act'of division 2" (*Yes, and I have sent itin; and the tribuno of the district has received the necessary order to attond.” He rose elowly to go. * Bat wait,” cried my mother. “Do ¥ou really make over everything to your dsughters, withont any reser- vation 7" “Cortainly, without reserye.” 4 And whero will you live 7" “Whero will live? Wly, in my own house, 18 T have done till now. What change would you have?" “But you'ro muro of your daughters and of your son‘in-law?" “1a it of Volodks you spesk? of that beggar ? Iwill make him doasIwill. What power bas ho? Aud my daughters! they will foed, clotho, and house me till my death. Is it not theirmoat sacred duty 7" : “ Asguredly; only—excuso me for eaying 80 Martin Petrovitch—your eldest daughter is fall of pride, and the second has tho look of & wolf.” “Natalie Nicolavnsl” exclaimed Kharlof, “what are you eaying! Good hewvens! They, my daughters, wanting in obedience! an idea not to be dreamed of. What! resist a father, and incur the curso that would await them! They who havo passed their lives in trembling and submission, and of a_sudden to—"a suffo- cating congh here seizod Kharlaf, and my moth- er hastened to compose him. - 4 Only I cannot understand,” eho urged, why this immediate division. After you the property will go to them. Isuppose your melancholyis the cauae of all this." i X AL " returned Kharlof, with some irritation, # you always throw my melancholy in my teeth. 1t'is perhaps a force from above that now scts upon me. I make this immediate division be- cause I will it. I, of my own person, by my own power, fix what sball hencaforth belong to each and each of them having recoived my gift, shall feel gratefal for i, and faith- fally exocate the will of their father and benefactor.” Hore Kharlof's voice faltered. ‘I wish you a good morning, madam, and yon, sir,” ho said, turning to me; I shall have the honor of seelng you the day after to- morrow st my house.” My mother looked at Kharlof as he went away, and she shook her head, *This promises no good,” she murmured. On tho sy appointed, our family coschy drawn by four horses and_driven by our he coachman, s stout, partriarchal figure, with long gray beard, drow majestically up to tho door. The importance of the act Kharlof was about to accomplish, and the solemnity of his invitation had reacted upon my mother, and she ordered this state equipsge, and desired us to appear in full dress to do honor to her pro- tege. Inbalf anhour we reached tho houso; the dog saluted us with his howling, and tho numerous children of tho servants, who gen- erally swarm in the court-yards, with wooden crosses round their nockn,{::rdulldiugpeued. Slotkine received us at tho threshold. We entored the room, in the middle of which sat the motionless form of Kharlof; he had put on Dis militia jacket, & bronze medal was on his Dresst, his sword at his sido, hia left hand was placed on its hilt, whilo his right rested upon & pile of papers on the tablo. . He did not stir, he appeared even not to bresthe. Ho scarcely salatod us, bus, pointing to & row of chairs, desired us to_take our places. On the right were his two daughters in full dress ; Anna in een gown and yellow belt, Evlampia in_ rose color and cerige. On the left of the priest, an aged man, whoso sad eyes, worn cassock and ragged boots betokened a life of poverty and labor. Next to him were tho sttorney snd is- pravnik, or head of the police of the district. I wassoaled_pear Bouvenir, and my mother's steward, Lizinski, beaide mo. When we woro all - placed, Kbarlof raised himself to_hi full height and bogan, I have invited you, gentlemen, becsuse I feel I am grovwing old; my infirmitics oppress me, ‘I have Toceived & warning, and tho hour of death, as you know, comes upon us as a thiof in the night; in consequience of which I do not wish that death should take mo unawares, I, the slave of the Almighty,” and he repeated, word for word, the Phrase hio had used to my mother. * Conform- ably to the decision I havo taken,” ho continued, pointing to the pilo of papers on the table, *this formal act has been drasn up, and you shall bear, point by point, my intentions. Approach,” £aya Kharlof to his #on-in-law, who stood in an humble postare at the door,’ *read, it would fatiguo mo.” Slotkino took the paper, and bogan to read with » clear but tremulous voice. The shares of the sisters were fixed with the most minuto pre- cision. From time to time Kharlof interrupted the reading, * Listen Anns, this is for you, aa a roward to your zeal. Of that I make you s pres- ent, my little Evlampia.” The two sisters bow- ed, and Kbarlof_gaze ond them with unmoved gravity. The eeignorial manor (that is, the new “houee) was assigned to Eviampis, tho younger daughter, sccording to on- cient musago. Kharlof reserved to himself tho right of occupying the room ho. then in- habited, and also aseigned to himself his com- pleto maintennnco, and sn allowanco of 10 Toubles » month for his clothing. The last clause in tha decd ho resd himself. * That these wizhes of father may be accomplished by his daughters, religiously znd unchanged, as a Iaw of the Almx'ghtey.& for, alter Iim, 1 m their fatber and their h and have no account to Tender to any one, any more than I have ever rendered. And if my daughters carry out my will, my fatherly benediction shall bo on their heads, but if they fail to carry out m will-which heaven” forbid—my curse wi.fi fall upon them now, henceforth, and to all eternity.” Ehariof closed tho paper and waved it over his hesd. Anna threw horsolf ‘upon her knees, and struck the ground with her forehead. *And you, Evlampia?" said Kharlof. Bhe reddened, and also bowed herself to the earth. “Now rise and sign,” said Kharlof; “aign_here, I am grateful and'sccept, Anna; here, Lam gratofal and accept, Eviampia.” The two women signed, as directed. A minutes followed ; Kharlof let a sob escapo, and then s2id, in & low voice, *Now all is yours.”. His daughters and son-in-law exchenged looks, and lypmwhm , kissed himupon the arm between the elbow and tho shoulder. Yho ispravnik thon read the legal act, and advancing upon the dooratep with the sisters, announced the event to the peasants of Kharlof, enjoining them submission to their now proprietors—at admonition he might bave dispensed with, for I never saw more humble countenances, oOr peasants more tutored to obediencs, than those of Kharlof. Dressed in patched caftans and tattered tunics, their waists tightly confined by their belts, as is required on solemn occasions, they stood motion- less as statues of stone, and each time the ispravnik addressed them they made = profound obedience. Notwithstanding the entreaties of the ispravnik, Kharlof refused to show himself with his daughtors. My subjects,” ho said, “will nhe]v) my will without my presenca;” but 29 to exhibit his power for the last time, he sud- denly put his head out of the window, roared out,in & stentorian’ voice, “Obedience!” and hastily closed the casement. The peasants ap- peared stupefied. At last camo the time for the repast. When the inevitable bottle of champagne appeared— champagne made on the banks of the Don—the ispravnik proposed the healths of the new pro- prietors and that of the magnanimous retro- vitch Kharlof. At the'word magnanimous, Slot- kine gave an enthusiastic cry, and rushed to em- brace his benefactor. Then occurred a dissgree- sble incident. Souvenir suddenly rose, and with a fiendish Iaugh exclaimed, * imous! ‘magnanimous, indeed ; we shall sea how he feels when he is turned out, barebacked, into the, snow.” “What are you raving about, fool?” said Kharlof, with contempt. * Fooll” replied Sonvenir, *‘we shall soon see who the fool ial” “ How dare you insult our reverend benefactor 2" cried Slotkine; you know, if he had the slight- est wish, he would not hesitate to tear up the dopation he bas 80 generonsly granted ns.” “Rut that would not prevent your turning him out in the snow,” eaid Souvenir. “Bilence!"” cried Eharlof, in a thundering voico. “If I were to strike you, Bitschof, & heap of dirt would alone remain where you now stand. And yon, young cur,” he said, turning to Slotkine, **hold your tongue, and prosume not to put in your nase where you_are not wanted. If I, Martin Petrovitch lof, have decided Tupon this act, who can destroy it; who, in tke whole world, can oppose my will?"’ « Martin ‘Petrovitch,” began the attorney, “yon have just accomplished s great action} bt if—whi beaven forbid—instead of the gratitude which is your due, you should meet with some great affront—" I glanced my eye upon the sisters. Anns ap- peared to devour the words he was speaking. never saw the face of & woman more wicked and more venomous, yet more strangely beautifal. Evlampis had turned away; a smile more con- ‘temptuous than ever was on kot lips. Kharlof roso o speak, but his voice forsook him. He struck the table with such violence that every- thing rattled in the room. « Father,” Auna hastened to say, * that gen- tleman little knows us, to speak thus. You are wmn%to let it make you angry.” Kharlof look- od at Evlampis, but ehe remained. stolidly si- lent. “I thank you, daughter Anna,™ said Eharlof, in & low voice ; “Irelyupon you aad your husband. As for_you, sir, you are mot mado to judgo Martin Kliarlof ; vour intelligonce does not each o bigh. Tho thing is decided ; my decision will not change. 1 am no longer ‘master here ; [ am a visitor ; and s such I use my privilege to retir.” He turned round, and walked slowly out of the room. The next day Eharlof came to dine with my mother, who reforred to the incidents of the preceding dsy. ¢ Yes," gaid Kharlof, *some- thing passed little serious, but what I havo npon my heart ianot the idle words of Souvenir, but tho bearing of Evlampia. She wzs stono—a real statue. Eho feels nothing. Why did she not eay to_hersolf, my father muat bo very ill, must feel his end’ approaching, thus o give s up all hehas; but nct & word, not a look ; eho bowed to the gronnd, but not in gratitude.” % Why, Kharlof,” #2id my mother, * you scem t0 complain ; yon begin to repent and "be afraid of the step you have taken.” = This wounded him to the quick. Al his prido arose. **Iamnot among thoso wio complain or aro afraid. This earthly globe shall bo dis- solved beford I fail in my word, or that I fear or regret what I havo done. As for my dsughtera, they will nevor depart from their obedienco 0 thelr father to all eternicy.” The death of her brother-in-law called my mother away, and it was three months before wo came back to our home. Tho first news my servant gave mo on my ro- turn was that large flocka of woodcocks had arrived, and that thoy were plentiful in the birch woods of Joskova, the domain of Kharlof. I started directly, and had s good day's eport. On my way hiomoward I aaw & peasant plowing near the wayside, and immediately racognized in the miscrable, sfarved beast ho was belaboring the favorite animal Eharlof used to drive. “]s Martin Kharlof desd?” I inquired, “‘that you have his horao?"™ 7 “0b, mo,” he snawored, “but it has been taken dd e0ld. _Many things havo happened during your absence. M. Blotkinois maater now. “And Martin Petrovitch 2" e has become a mero cypher. morning he will be turned out-of-doors. When'Iwentinl found something had dis- turbed my mother. She sent suddenly for Li- zinski and said, “Send a carringe to-morrow Some fine ‘| morning for Mr. Eharlof, and deeire him tocome here, as I Lear hohasnolonger ouo at his disposal, aud toll him I must absolately sce him. Tell, alzo, Blotkine, I order him to appear before me; mind, I ordor him.” 3 “artin Petrovitch will not_obay,” whispered Souvenir; *you cannot imagine what he has ) Hia prediction was verified. =My mother wroto him a letter with her own hand. Hogent for an answer, written upon a picco of dirty paper. “Bofore heavon, I cannot—shame would ki me. Let me disappear, thank you; do not tor- ment me.” 5 . 3 Slotkine's interview with my mother did not occupy & quarter of an hour. " She declared he o0l nover again enter her presenes ; and if Kharlof'a daughters daro to present themselves —for they have impudence for anything,” she said, ““ghow them the door. - That miserable Jow," she continued, ‘whom Ihave taken out of the miro to make & man of, bas the audacity to tell me I have no right to interfere with what doos not concérn me, and that Martin Petrovitch is treated with too much indulgence—the un- grateful little toad " 1 ‘Determined to seek Kharlof, I again set out with my gun to Jeskova. .Suddenly T heard stops behind me, and Slotkine came out of the thicket. His face bore no trace of the obsequi- ous humility with which, four months back, ho was polishing the curb of my Dbridle when walking my horso up and down his father-in- Iaw's court-yard. * Have you killed many wood- cocka? " he asked. ‘¢ You are aware you are shooting in our wood; but I give you leave. Your mother was very angry with me yesterday, and would hear of no explanation. I declare solemnly it is impossiblo to trest, Martin Petro- vitch otherwise; he is quite childish.” ¢ But why have you sold his horse?” \Why? A fine question ! What nse was it ? Only to eat hay without profit. If Martin Pe- trovitch wishea to_go ont ho has only to ask ; wo never refuse him, ucless the horse is at work., Then there is that little vagabond Coseack,” he continued. ‘ Martin Petrovitch complaing we have taken him from him. What nse was he to us? Now we have apprenticed him to & gaddler; and when he has learned his trade he will psy us a yearly sum.” +Who, then, now reads to Martin Petro- vitch 2 “Read! Whatanidea to read at his age! Ho had but one book, aud that, I am thankful to &y, has disappeared.” ¥ “I And who shaves him now 7" . Slotkine assumed an affable lsugh, as if it were a good joke, and replied, * No one ; at first Do singed his beard with & candlo ; now he lets it grow. Martin Petrovitch is clothed and fed— what can he want besides ? Has henot declared that he wants nothing more in this world, but what is for the good of soul 2 Besides, he ought to recollect that, put it which wa yyou please, all now belongs to ua. compliins we do not pay his sllowance What does ho require money for? he wants for nothing. I assure youws treat him well. Now, there are the rooms, for instance, he ocenpies ; wo want them badly for ourselves, for we have no space to turn in. _ Then e try to rovide him occupation. Last St. Peter's Day I ught him some fieh hooks—excellent English hooks, very dear. The pond is full of tench, and o has only to sit at the edge and fish all day— what better occupation for an old man ? Martin Petrovitch himself approves. TYou koow what s hot violent man he was; now he has become quite _guict. = Your mother is angry with me. She is a great Iady, and holds to power as much as did for- metly Martin Petrovitch. Come and judge for yourself, and if an ofgcrhmity offers, Bay a word in our favor. ave the honor to saluta you. Kill a8 many woodcocks a8 you like. They aro birds of passage, znd belong to nobody; but it s hare crosses your path spare it—it is our gamo.” When left to myseif, I exclaimed, How is it that Kharlof has not before this exterminated Slotkine? Ho must be subdued, indeed.” At the end of the garden was the pond. 4 Has Kharlof indced turned fisherman ?” I asled myself. I looked round, and, at _the bot- tom of forost of rushes, I aiv a grayish mass. It was indeed Hharlof, withont cap, his hair dishevellod, & kind of Jinen overcost ront at every seam, his legs doubled under him ; he was seatod, motionlees, on the bare mud_ His whole appearance Waa 80 strange that my dog stopped sgart, and- began to growl. KEbarlof raised his head, and looked at mo lidoawild man. My heart beat violently as I approached and saluted him. * You are there, catching fiab, Martin Petrovitch,"” I eai “Yes, fishing,” he answe in a hoarse voice, and gave a jork with his rod, at the end of which was a piece of string, and no hook ; and I perceived ko Liad 1o worms for bait. 4 But your hook is broken.” « Broken, ho repoated, passing his Land scross his eyes. ‘“Is it the son of Natalia Nicolavna 2" said he, after some minntes’ pause, He still ap- peared to me o giant, but so thin, such rags, such o wreck. #Yes,” I answered, I am tho son of Natalia Nicolavna ; she is mach concerned ct your re- fusing to go to sce her.” “ Have you been there ?” said Kharlof, point- ing to the house. “Go now. What have you to dohere? TUseless to talk withme. Go tothe house ; all goes on wonderfully. My daughters are such excellent housewives. As for me, I am grown old. Quict, quiet, you know, is the best_for me.” “TFine quiet, indeed ! ” I exclaimed, “‘ Martin Petrovitch, you must come to us.” Kharlof gave me s sad glarce. “Go, my triend, go.” Do not refuse my mother; eho will send her carriago for you.” s L Gon « Come, let yourself be persuaded. Why re- main here to torment yourself 2" : ¢ How torment myself ?” # “Imean yonare wrong tobe asyou are.” Eharlot seamed to reflect. and, emboldencd by his silence, I determined fo press him still fur- ther. ect I was only fifteen, * Martin Petroviteh," I cried, while " I placed myself b his sido, * 1 know the shameful way in whi gou ave trested; what a situation it s for you. t why loso courago? You have certainly committed an imprudence in giving up all to our danghters—it was great, it was gonerous. ot if they show ingratitude itis your partto Teturn it with scorn, and not give yourself up to ‘melancholy.” “Leave me,” murmured_ Kharlof, grindin his teeth, and hia eyes, which he h&: fixod Tpon the pond, becoming inflamed with rage. & one.” + Bnt, Martin Potrovitch — “Begone, 1 say, or L will kill you. I will throw you into the water, to teach you to dsra to come an disturb an old man with your im- becile advico—brat that you are.” i “Ha is gone mad,” I thought. Looking at him, I eaw Kharlof was crying. Small tears silently trickled down his cheels, and yet his faco had & most ferocious expression. *Bo- gone," he sgain shoute, *or T will ill yon, scrve as an ezample to others.” I picked up my gun aad took tomy hools, ‘Abont three weeks after, I was standing at my bedroom window, looking gloomily over the + the weather for many kays hiad been too bad for shooting. the rain mflg in tor- rents, the roads impasssble from mud, tho trees bending under s hurricane of wind; the enetrated to the very mar- t appeared ”cd the E!;n would mever show itself sgain; it was quite ark, though it was midday. I then discerned, crossing tho yard and making towards the door, what appeared to me a bear, not on four logs. but erect, like one taught to dance. I could gcarcely believe my eyes, and was_trying to sccount for this extraordinary apparition, when a {frightful noise came from ow. I ran down stairs, At the -door - stood m: mother, petrified with horror, and behin her a cluster of scared female sttendants. The steward, footman, and the little Cousack, all opon-monthed, préssingtoward tho dining-room, in the midat of which, covered with mud, the rnin streaming in torrents from his tattered gar- monts, on his knees, panting, gasping, suffocat- ing,was tho monstrous black, heavy being I soeh rroes the court. It was Kharlof. He breathod heavily, convalsively,—it was 28 if a cauldron was boiling in his breast. All I could distinguish in this filthy mass was his eyos, which rolled wildly around. s ‘At Iast my mother oxclaimed, *Is this you, Martin Potrositch 7 =3 1t is indeed mg; yes, me,” he replied, in & broken voice. i Good heavens | what has happened 2" 4 Nata—lis—Nicolav—ns, I have run hero on foot. “And in such weathor ; but you do not re- femble & human being. Get up and take a eat. And you,” said she, turning to the servants, “Whring fowels at once, and see if you can find some garmenta for him to put on.” The steward raiscd his bands, ‘Where finda ont forsuch s giant? We wil fetch 3 orse-cloth or 5 sheet.” J\* They have tumed me ont, Madame,” said Eharlof, after s deop groan: they have turned me out, Natalia- Nicolsvns, my own dsughters—{rom my own nest.” 3 moiher crossed horeolf. “ How horrible 5 but gat up, Martin Petrovitch ; do mo this avor.” & The servants arrived with towels and a large cold so intense, it row of one's bones. " eaid my mother, in & voico of command, and tell me all thaf has hap- poned” He Taised himself slowly, staggering ike & drunken man, drew a chair near, and sanit intoit. The servants advanced with the towels and blanket, but he motioned them uway with his hand, and my mothor did not insist. “)Madame Natalia Nicolavns,” at last he be- gan, with an effort. I am going to tell yon the Whole truth. Pride has been my fall, a8 muc a8 it was that of Nebuchadnezzar. I said to my- self, Hoaven has gifted mo with intellect, and then, with the fear of spprosching death on my mind, my head was turned, and I said, I will , my show the world, beforo dejarting this life) my onerosity aud my power, I will confer mefits on them all, and shall be tefal fo mo to the tomb. Khar- fof started from his chair. * Kicked out like a mangy dog—such is their gratitudo. They took away from me Maximk, they took my carrisge, my horse, they reduced my food, they did mot pay my allowance, all has been misersbly cur- tailed around me.” And Ieaid nothing, on ac- count of my pride, that my enemies should not have it in their power to say, ‘Look al that old fool, see how hie nowrepente; and you, Madame, youhad also waned me. That is why I would nover breathe a word of complaint. To-day I went into my poor chamber, it was occupied, my bed thrown intos garret, sod I was told, “You can sleep as well there ; We keep you by favor, and wo waat your room.’ And who said this tome? Volodka Slotkine, a vile upstart, a mis—" Here his voice broke down. “ But your daughtors, what did they say?” asked my mother. z #3(y daughters! they haveno will of their own ; they ate both the slaves of Volodka, Mad- sm, [ canngt. eupport tho ingratitudo of my children, When Volodks, with-bhis insolent tongue, told me I should nd longer occupy m own room, every timber of which I builé’ wil my own hands, heaven knows what darkuess overshadowed me, what a knife pierced my heart. I then ran in this horrible state, to you, my benefactress.” “ Come, repose yourselt,” said my mother, tthey shall takeyou to s warm room; lie down and slesp, and take some tes, and we will talk. Donotlose courage, my old friend ; if they have driven you from your house, you ill always find s home in mine, fhavenot Lorgotten you saved my life. Take him to bed, and when he swakes send for the tailor to ‘measure bim for new clothes.” The atoward led him to his room, and hastened fo procare some linen. Souvenir, who had been watching his opportunity, now camo forward, began dancing and snnoying Eharlof. *Good mom- ing, your Excelloncy,lot mo kish your hand; but why have you put on your black gloves? 'You treated me as a parasite, and now you are one Joumelt. Nom you hatonot a roof that bo- ongs to ou. You will eat the bread of charity like me.” i “Souvenir,” I cried, £ be silent,” but in vain. 40ty you guite {righten mo, my little brother. ‘You might at least have combed your beautiful locks ; now they must be cut with'a scythe. And you gill attempt to bluster—you, o beggar, & naked worm. ere now is the hereditary roof, ' of which you were 8o prond ?” 5 «Mr, Bitschof," I cried, “ what are you abont, in the name of Heaven?” I was alarmed. Eharlof, who had been gradually calmed down by his interview with my_mother, was how be- coming again excited. ' He breathed quickly. The veina of the neck dilated, and his eyos flaahed through his bespattered face. I threat- ened Souvenir to inform my mother, but a_very demon seomed to possess him. “Yes,” cried he, “most respectable gentleman. This is what ou aro come to. Your daughter and sour son- in-law jeer at youunder your bereditary roof. Yousid you would curh them, but sou sie J afraid. You thought you conld wrestle with Alr. Blotkine, but he 18 too strong for you.” Afearful yell interrupted Souvenir's harangue. Eharlof's face turned b'ue, he foamed at the ‘mouth, and his whole frame quivered with fary. “A roof, did you say?” cried ho, in his iron voice. */No, I will not curse them; that would be indifferent to thom ; buta foof{ I will de- stroy it from top to bottom. They shail not have one any more than I. They shall know what it is to turn me out in derision. 1 strength bas not yet forsaken me. Thoy & not bave a roof—no, no!" and, upsotting the at- tendants who had just entered, he rushed ont of the house. My mother was greatly disturbed whon she heard of Kharlof's departure, and despatched Lizinski to Lring him back at all costs. In an hour ho returned alone, *What has happened that he does not como ?” “ Nothing has_happenod to hum, but he is pulling down his house. He is standing on the roof, and has nl.raady thrown down thirty planks and a dozen rafters.” My mother exclaimed, “ Alone apon the roof, and ing down the house 1" ¢ As I have the honor of informing you Mad- ame. Ho is breaking overything, right and left ; his strength is, 88 you know, supernatural. And the roof is not very solid ; it is made of batten and Ia I propoee returning again with some of our people, zud seeing what can be done. The peasants have all hid tbrmselves {rom fear.” Iran to the stables'aud galloped off to Jes- kova. When I reached tho carriage-gato, I was dumb with stupor. Of s third -of the roof uf the new house, tho eksleton only remained. Piles of planks were Leaped on each side of the walls, and on the top fioor rolled & blackened mass, now shaking tke shaft of s chimney, now . tearing a rafter rom ihe roof and throw- ing it on the ground. It was Eharlof, his rags and Ius hair fluttering in the wind. Was horriblo to see, it was more horriblo to hear him, A crowd of pensants, servants, and children filled the court. On the doorsteps of ths_other house stood the aged priest, raising from time to time an old copper crucifix, which he held toward Eharlof in silenco an despair. Near him stood Evlsmpin, looking at her fathor with gloomy earnestness. Anus remained within, but now rush into the court, now xetum iat tho houss. Slotkine, %rlmui with a gun, paced up and down, panting, shiver- ing, threatening, lol\"el.ling his p?m .fmlof, and then throwing it back on his shoulder. As 800n a8 he Aaw U8 he ran up, “8eo what has happened,” he said in s dolefal tone, “he Lias gone quite mad. Bee what ho is doing. 1 bave nent for the police; if I fireupon him 1 sball pot bo answerablo in the eyes of the 1aw, for ovory one has a right to defend his own property. 1am now going to_fire. Martin Pe- trovitch, come down, or I fire.” “Fire!" anawered from_the roof s terrible voice. *In the meantime, I send you a present.” A long piank whistled throogh the air, and fell e w adoe said Slotkin ‘cich a or,” Bai lotkine to a group 05‘ p'e'uln!s. 4 climb all, aud save my prop- orty. “here to find.it ?” answered the group. # And if there wers one, who wonld mount it? Not such fools. He would wring every onme of our necks, like so many chickens,” It was evi- dent that even if the danger had been leas, tho peasants wonld not’ have obeyed their new mas- ter. They almost approved of Kharlof, and cer~ tainly admired him. “Thieves ! ragcals1” vociforated Slotkine. At this moment the last chimney fell in with a tre- ‘mendous crash, and as the cloud of yellow dust cleared zway, Kharlof was to bo -seen shoutin, in triamph, and holding up his begrimmed ol blood stained bands, -Blotkineagun levelled his gun, ‘but Eslampoia puched back his elbow. % Do not preveat me,” ho cried with fury. “You dare not,” she eaid, har blue eyes li ing up under hor close-set eyebrows. ¢The ht- | large concessions in | sion. father,” she eays, ‘‘destroys hi: bt il 753 o bocey, “ Falsap—it is oure.” ; “ You eay eo, and 1, his daughter, tell yo e - Ng.‘kfl%lal‘;&ns wlsl;rglakéx:g with rage, TOLii8 ¢ Ah, good day, ', I3 belove tory” cfed xgmé:sémm abprey eoted gy, igh, fathor, and come down ; come fg g, . - e are a1l guilty, but we will restor R 7oz danghier and com domn.” o ll Beles * By what right do you take this decisi on yourselt ? " interripted Slotkine. Eria: did not condescend a reply. 1 will restordd s{ahua," continued she; “Iwill render &0 * , father. F_as‘vu us; forgivemer 00 Kharlot smiled. *Too late, my dove; stony heart is moved too Iate. Do’ not T onme, Iam & lost man. Look rather g, lodka, st your viper sister. Now, my Lifte o/ tleman, you wisbed to deprive me of myyoy: well, ['will not leavo oo alter upon ‘s T hayo fackioned and laid them all with bands, and with my own hands alogs, stroy them, You gee I have no¢ taken aage “Finish, ather,” rooumod Eviampin s caressing voice, “do believe mo; you a} have believed mo ; como down infomy Lrjs room, come up on my bed; I will dfy s clothés—I_will warm you—I will dress et |+ wounds.. Seo how your poor bands are fop Yes, wo hiave been very guilty, but sou wil - ve.” Eharlof tossed his head. “TIdls falk{ 1 3, lieve i:)fil. You have killed all beliof in me, Yen & have killed everything. I wes en eagle andy made myself a worm for you, and you havapes s Jous heel upon, the wor: T loved you-foy ow how much. Now you ro no longe g daughter, I sm no more year father. Iam lh{ man. And you, fire, you coward,” he cried, m3- d;]n!y lnn‘\ing round thlotk.?ina]}“ ;‘ VWhy do yop. only point your gun st me perhy; iy Semcmber tho law : If. the receiver attemptins | life of the donor the latter has -a right to lats, back his gift. Don’t bo afraid. great lawyer ] '+ ask for nothing—I will seo after myzelf. Fir™ : % At this moment Lizinski appeared with hiy gh y. ‘‘What, an army against me,” crisg arlof ; * but I give notice that whoover payy. me a visit up here will return down head forr - most.” His aspect wasa go terrible that the mey who bad reached the top quickly descended by the gutter, to the derision and delight of (e people essembled below. Kharlof returned to ¢ the front, and, seizing with Lis two banda fhs pair of rafters which formed the poing of the roof. began rocking them back: and forwand to the measure of = tune he was minging, liks the boatmen on a river. i & “Lizinski,” snid Slotkine, “lct me firacns % shot, if it is only to frighten him.” Lizinekihsd ' 1o time to roply, for the rafters, furiouslyrocked by tho lron haads of Kharlof, 2 Ise: e iy ‘hey fell with n crash, and carried lum do along with them. He struck the ground with his whole might, and the long boam, which Torms the top of the roof, followed the raftersin their descent, and fell upon the shoulders of ths unfortunste Kharlof. ** 1t is finished,” murmusel the peasants. Pale as death, Evlampia placal Derself by her father and fixed upon himbermo- tionless o) Neither Anna nor Slotkine dared ' approach All was gilent in mournfal espes- * tation. At last, & convulsive le was h 4 o opened ane eye, looked listlessly round, stammered ** Bro-ken.” Then, after a pause— “‘The black colt.” A siream of blood gushel from his mouth—I thought it was the end, bu EKharlof sgain opened bis eye, and looked s Evlampis, aid with o sinking voice, It is sa, my daughtor, —"" and expired. The heas; beam had broken his spine. Evh:;fin; fell 2 senseless mass, at the feet of the” of her inanimate father. % +hat were his last words?” I sasid to myself. * Did he wiri $c pardon or to cum gnz“ In my own hesst, I felt ho had forgiven er. 2 Some days after tho fumeral. it ‘was rumored that Evlampia had left the paternal houss for- ever, resigning all her share of tha inheritans to ber sister. 3 2 oxp 1 do- - H : 1 ' Shieriniaticn THE VERDICT. BY.ONE OF THE JUBT. - - - ‘When tbe winter nights are growing Iong, And roughs and rakes the bar-rooms threage Anq drink their toddy hot and strong, ' - ‘Look out for wrath and rot. - : Ned Parker kept 3 whisky stall "Neath ycner elm so straight and tall, Near which Missourv’s waturs brawl, In mouthy, mad disquiet. The winter night wa drear and wild, Ned's firo with hick'ry wood was piled, And men came in, and warmed nd “cmiled, And warmed and “smiled” szain, . jodeny cwmmumm ere thare, piot y men of prager; Tho Fuined nabob’s ceatleay Relr, And men of wealth and Al mingled in one social crowd, ‘And all grew mellow, rich and frozd, ‘And nolsy discord grew mors laud As drinkers drunker grow. Wit toasta and tale, and misthaliaz, As eagles fly upon their prey, i Or comets on their fiery way, . The jogous momenta fa. 2 * t langth in came young Cherley Clins, Btage driver on the Fulton liu: Axnd several others of that kind, All on a folly spree. R Finy % thete goblota Tl of wine, ipped o o T furnel the praitling crowd o Joiz, But ne'er a taste toak he, And on the goblet gaze, 2 &1 bloodes b eried, and threw tho glais, ‘Full info Parker’s face. “Yon Hel” yelled Parker, drawing steel, Cline for his pistol then did feel, And Bowie's claeh and navy's peal ‘Disturbed that peaceful place. From thres round holes in Parker's side Gushed forth the warm and crimson tide, And from three gashes deep and wide Cline’s vital current flowed. And still they slashed and banged away T4l all took eides and joined the {ray, Then wreck sud ruin held the sway ‘And flery passions glowed. In that hot fight s flerce and dresd Somo stood by Charley, some by Ned, And with them fought, and with them bled, - . And bado tho warld “Good night!” | December's sun ross cold and clear, And, shizing fa that bar-room dreat, Disclosed a stack of corpscs there ‘At least four feet in beight! And long ere noon it came to pasx Tlat twelve grave men eat on that mass, Which once was fleah, but iow was grase,. And this their verdict was “Xaught can the naked trath conceal, Fox 2 the symploma here reveal That blood and wine, and lead and stoel, Caused this 10 happen thus,” —St. Lowia Republican. 1 AR S A A A R R Tho Magic of o Monarch’s Touchs Tormerly there was such implicit confidence ia the virtue of = touch from a Iun}gn or Soverei Queen, that their Majestiea in England, sad for a while in France, had more custom than they wished, becauso it was not only a serious an20oy- ance to be frequently besieged 1,{ ‘several, hun- dred poor cripples and rich people in a dsy, bub it was expected the royal S sicinn wonld give 8 piece of gold to be suspended from the paticat’s neck. Charles I. had none' to spare, 80 he gab- stituted silver, and finllld: ‘brass. Dr. Samuel Johinson, the great lexicograpber, was the last person wentioned in England wbo had the benefit of the touch. He waa carried, in his childhood. from Littlefleld to London for that unquestionable remedial L agoncy. Tro bua- dred besido himself were touched on that occa~ sion. Queen Elizabeth, according to chr often touched threo and four hundred in a dsy. Charles I1., a King not remarkable for picty or exemplary in the observance of moral virtues, is said tohave tonched 90,793. Applicants re- covered under his blessed influence just as well 28 when the divine influence was commu l%y tho right royal Saint Edward, the Confessor. ‘he cercmony of royal touching for the re- moval of diseasc was prescrred in the aqthor- ized ceremonial for the coronation of Charles X., of France. A Gift of The Biblo After Thirtee! Years? Waiting. From the San Francisco hulletin. Among the itemsof news reccived by the China and Jspan mail is the announcement thsé Dr. Hepburn, s well-known American Japaneée scholar, recently received permission tlni&r'ue,ni tho Mikado a copy of the Bible in_English, with the last edition of the Doctor's Japaneso and English_dictionary. This Bible Dr. Hepbum took to Japan with bim thiricer years ago, a5d itis one of the coetly editiona specially pre- pared by the American Bible Boeiety fof presentation to exalted persopages. For these thirtcen yoars has Dr. ~Hepburd been waiting to press his gift upon the raler of Japan, ufnu, aiting s ‘suspicious ses- 8on. at armnved in the early part of Novem- ber, the ?lelenh(iun taking place through the intervention of Minister De Long. Tho Ji testified Lis Appreciation of the gift by acknowl- odging 1¢ in suitable termsin an mwg-a;lx let- ter. Thia satisfactory reception of tho book . coupled with another item of news roceived by this mail, that thirty-five native Japaness ¥EO £ had been imprisoned for embracing Christisnit have uach been pardoned snd set frce, i & g omen that, in the projected revision of treatiet with Western Powers, there will be introd favor of religious tolers<