Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 1, 1874, Page 11

e PRTCNT TP ‘THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1874. 11 —— METROPOLITAN MODES. Revival of €alico Parties---A Unique Assembly ef the Kind. Extraordinary Ingenuity in Costuming--- Some of the Most Strik- ing Rohes. (amsos TRestored to Ancient Favor---The Prevailing Passion for the Bizarre. From Our Own Corrcspondent, New Yoax, Jan, 29, 1874 fhe social ballis a8 activeiy rolling as usual, ynd merry maids and men are tripping out their sharity with untiring zeal. There is Do such gtimaiant to pleaswoas the bolief that you sro helping your fellow-beings by having a good time yourself. The eclf-renunciation of the Christian martyrs was as nothing compared with {he sacrifice of devoted matrons of to-day, who ive five dollars for a ticke! {o a charity-ball whereat to exhibit a toilet costing o thonsand. However, let us not carp at the smallness of their giving, lest they fail to give atall. Tbeir modest (?)_generosity carries ona good work, {hat might languieh but forit. The Calico ball used to beono of the chief features of the conson; of late it bas dropped into discstoom. For the amusement of the thing, though, CALICO PARTIES pave recently been revived in private circles, and have given much pleasure and a chance for jogenuity in costuming. Ono of them was strik- ingly woique. The invitations (limited) were done in fancifal lettering, in septa, on delicate pirch-bark cards. (The work was thut of the daugh- ters of the house.) The ornamentation of the reception-rooms was entirely of bright leaves, ferns, waving grasses, etc. Not a flower was sisible, but the spartments wero faintly per- fomed in some mysterious way. Tho light was entirely from wax-candles (the light of which is the most becoming in the world), somo of them behind rose-colored porcelain shades, that threw » pale, warm glow over everything. The broad, Jow grates bad aadirons, and blazing wood-fires for the evening; while great clumps of glossy- lesved, scarlet-berried holly mounted guard on either side. The supper consisted of digestion- deswoying mince pies, with cheese and coffee, hickory-nuts, apples, and cider,—not more un- wholesomo ihan the regulation refreshments, snd gnite as enticing. As to the L CoSTUNES, - 2o Academy reception ever displayed more varied or moro becoming designs. A majority «of the dresses were cut to clear the ground and exhibit to advantago the pretty kid shoes of all odlors, which, by unanimous consent, were ac- ceted 58 the proper pedal covering. Of course, under the name of calico was infroduced all ports of cotton fsbrics; organdies and other iouslins being alone tabooed. Oxe dress bad a tticost of cambric, with alternate inch-and-a- wide stripes of purple and white. This was gored slightly, and bare of timming, _ while _tho polopaise sbove was of botisle, white ground with shaded o vines winding over it. It was open in Jroat, over a Equare-necked vest of plain purple Iawn; and, under the deeply-scalloped edge, a pur- ‘plo Jawn, fnger-wide rufiie was set. The garment aalooped quito high on the sides and far back, -saticly exposiag tie long, square tabe of he xest. 11 ‘ho sleeves were coat to the clbow, aod finished with two flounces, one of tho figured end the other of the plain purple lawn. A neck- face and bracelets of peosies painied on wood (Swiss-work), were tho ornmments. Black kid Newport ties were worn with this dress. A STBIKING 6UIT. Another suit was of common white shirting sad blue Chambery. The body of the costume Wiz white, the decoration blae. The skirt— walking length—had s wide wreath of flowers of application, of the blue, bordering it about the bottom, and running up on either side, half-way to the waist. The edge of the application was fimshed by white star braid. The short, prettily-draped over-skirt had s broad band of blue, on which was a wreath of white application. The waist was an ol-fashioned fan-waist, with a wreath in blue following the buttons, and round the neck, £preading behind in the shape of a deep collar, ero wae in the neck, also, a narrow, rolling collar of blue, with a delicate tracery in white braid. The coat-gleeves had a blue ruffle set in the back seam, and Iouomfi the band, headed by a narrow wreath of the biuc application. A PRETTY OUTFIT, Oneof fl:ugufliest of the costumes was made with » quilted petticeat of fino white English eilesia. - The quilting, done with pink thread, in the style of our grandmothers’ petticoats, was romarkably pretty. The polonaise was of Wat- tean shape, and formed from a Cretonna chintz, Bg:k ground with gray-shaded figures, such ns irds and buttertlies, Cupids and buds. The polonaise was cat with a squaro neck and deep pointed vest, and fasicned with deli- cate smoked pearl buttons. The polonaise was simply hemmed, and drawn high and far back on the hips. A necklace and bracelets of daioty sea-shells fitted the costume, as_woll as did the little high-heeled shoes of pink lnd. A CHADNG EOBE. The rarest effect was, perhups, produced by & tobs of fine unbleached cotton shirting. The tint is _soft. like the palest of fosroscs, and wopderfully suited to a bright brunette. The goods bhang in exquisitely goft heavy folds, and, if we could only think so, are pretty enough for outside wearing. The tall figure of the lady who be- came this gown was well adapted to carrying m Elizabethan court-train, and it was cut, therefore, in that stylo; tho long train fall- ing from the shoulders, imstead of from tho waist. Tho contrasting color and fabric was what all housekecpers know 8a Turkey-red. As you know, Turkey-red is a tich deep shade, and the material pliable cnongh todo anything with; 8o that it was easy to in- trodace it successfully. The petticoat was cov- ered with ruches (almost meeting) of the white stuff, raveled deep on both edges, plaited very full, and laid in the middlo of wider opes, made of the red, pinked. ~Tho train was cut in shallow scaliops, bound with the red, and 1he corners tumed back, en revers; showing dining of the red. Ths waist was_cut with the proper, long point in front, snd buttoned with scarlet coral buttons, which the wearer ventured 10 introduce, thaugh rather against the spirit of the party. ‘fhe neck was, of course 2quare across the shoulders o5 well a8 in_ front, and had & gennine Elizabethan rufl of met lace wrought with gold thread, and stiffened to an | dlmost impossible degree, The elecevos wera tight at tha wrist, with rufiles falling back, of gold- Tought net. An elaborate necklace was con- trived out of many rows of holly-berriesstrung on sewing-silk, and looped in many rows about the throst. High-heeled scarlet kid shoes, and un- bleached scarlot clocked hose, belonged to the toilette, A DRESS EETLLTULLY CONTRIVED. There was oue other_ dress 20 skillfully con- trived 25 to merit a short description. Tho skirt was of bright-blue lawn; two thicknesses g used to cause denmsity of color, From coano white lining-muslin wero cut soveral fiounces, gradasted from 10 to 5 inches i width. The flounces were then most ingéniously pinked out in imitation of lace ; the illusion being well- Dgh perfect. The flounces wera put on with iaces botween, and were headed by doubled Tuches of blue and white, A sssh of the mus- imitation was tied prottily on the loft side, 12d the baby-waist of bLlue nearly covered by a bertha of the paendo-lace. o2 ‘WASTED INGENUITT. There was cleverness of device, not less than ingenuity of execution, in these calico cos- es; but it is 2 very open question if it were vorth while putting 80 much time and trouble. wd even ~expenss, in gowns that would ¥rve only for s single evening. It & bad enough to give weoks of precious consideration to garments that can hr_oxjn over and over again in different forms; 4t is worse than a waste to give such weeks %0 what becomes useless after three or four Some of the davatecs to calico were wise @ough to have dresses made that will be DPeddectly soitable to ordinary use when Bmmmer comes sgain; and thus, while they sacrificed something of the piguancy of the more peculiar toilettes, they will gain more than thes have lost. ODDS AND ENDS. Cameos are baing quistly restored to their an- deat fuvor, Tho ast of catting them bas im. materially within the last quarter of a Zalury; and tlie’ variety of stones used is et (gTester than formerly. Bet in iotlnda baods of gold, or with or pearl-ipped claws; ihey aro more eatiefactory to the ¥ b Yy ari-lover than'any mere jewel Tho passion for pecaliarchira and other table- furnishings grows upace. Bervices are now elaborately irregular. Cups differ from oach other in sizo, ehape, and color ; platos protend to o nearor rclation than vecond-coustusli 0d tea and coffeo pots ik e orphang shau ot e likaylote e dainty engraved ‘French and Bobemi erystal, that has been &0 great. on ornament to well-arranged tabies, is being displaced by hesvy Englieh glassware, balf an inch thick in ite thinnest part, The change is thought to Lavoe been induced by the fragility of the crystal ; but it is doubtful if tho increased weight will not be more likely to beget accidents in careloss hands, The variety i table-fittings is only trifling compared with the varioty In_ farniture, No newly-decorated drawing-room has two articles of the same stylo, hue, of period. When taste- fully combined, tho effect is charming; and, when thrown together,as they sometimes ap- pear to have been, withont thought or Fight, the medley is simply detestablo. FORBELOW- e “MILES O'REILLY” ON PAREPA-ROSA. To the Editor af The Chicago Tribune : Sm: In o volums of * Miles O'Reilly's™ poems I find the incloaed on Parepa-Rosa. Now that both the swcob poet and tho groat singer have gone To that high Olympus where All the proud immortals Iuto muedc flaw, 2 thun_ght many of your readers would be inter- ested in this little poem, if you choose to print it. Underncath the humor thero lingers & voin of pathos which well expressos the focling of the public toward hor who was not only a grest siuger, but & true woman. Very truly, Ciucago, Jan. 26, 187 H. H. PAREPA-ROSA. 48 SUNG BY JOmN 0. DHADY WITH TMMENSE EPFECT. Afr— Tlig Groves of Blurney.” Ochi ! of song » fountain, Av’ of chnrms 3 mountain, Thero's no prima-douna. Can wid her comyure ; For she is the swectcht, ‘A’ the most completest, From Ler golden girdie To her nut-brown hair, Sho’s the gorgeous sposa Of Siguor Rosa, An’ she does ontvalue him By a hundred pounds. Sure, her anile Is gracious, An’ Ber bust is spacious, Like a milk-white reservoir (An'troth! that's what itis, the darlint; 'an may God bless hier an’ it for the 6smo! An’ may he look down upon her, an’ bo good to herl) Of all silvery sounds. Hear her voice s minute ! Like o lark or linnet, How the warble bubbles up ¥rom her purty throst] A" now hear it fallin’, Like an echo calliy’, Flickerin’ gently downward From some hills remote. Then again it risee, Aw’ wid joy surprises, For her love an' rapture Find in song relief; A" it now sinks Towly Into prayer most holy, Or now ewlls in rondeaux (Though I don't meself rightly know, upon me con- scicnce, what gort of a thing a *‘ roudeau " is whin it’s at home.) Of melodious grief. When T think o'dyin’, A’ me epirit figic’ To that high Olympns Whare good goss00ns g0,— Where their barps a-boldin', An’ wid cymbals golden, Al the proud jmmortals Into music fow,— Och| tno future taskin’, Itis then I'm askin’, 8zl we hear Parepa In that shinfu’ throng?” Forif hor sweet singin’ Through all Heaven's not ringin, ‘Earth can whip the Nine Muses (A3, faix: an' dozen or two of them little cherub- ims and seraplime who * continnally do ery,” as poor Father Mulcahy—God rest him !—tould ma long ago 2t Sunday-school.) In the line o’song. ‘HUMOR. A singular instance of skicpticism is recorded in the case of a man who said the Bible was *too good to be true.” —The Morristown (Tenn.) Herald gives this definition of * Christmas greens:" * Editors who fii\‘e a five-dollar puff for a doltar-and-a-half tur- ey.” —An unmarried man died recently near Bos- ton, aged §0 years, a_graduate of Harvard, with the’ dogree of * A. B.” Ho was a bacholor by diploma, » bachelor by celibacy, and Bachelor by pame. Grim Death at one fell swoop swept off the whols batch. —Talking about upsetting sleighs, Wicls re- morked toa young fady he was taking ous to drive, ** I always pick out the softest piace I can when'T upset my sleizh.” She replied, * Why, I should think it would grow monotonous, always falling on your head.” —A garcastic gentloman waa Mr. Van Dyke, of New Hampshire, who, leaving $140,000 to his Yieirs, boped none of them “would su shed crocodile tears st his faneral” ¢ Cover me up,” said tho dying legator, “ and then hurry home to fight over my money.” —Within the last three months the President has appointed_thirty Postmistreases. Tha con- sequences might have been anticipated. Twenty- soven of them have already notified their hus- ‘bands that their services are no longer reguired. —Zrooklyn Arqus. —We aro willing to believe that a Califcrnia mimer fond of whisky took a drink by mistake of nicksilver, bt wa are not willing to believe in the accompanying statement, that “ The miner haos ben kept busy ever sinco breathing an panes of glass to convert them into mirrors.” —The San Francisco News Letler has scttlod it that Isaiah was an Lrishman, Its reasoning is a8 follows : _*‘Wo think thero is internal evi- dence enoufih to demonetrate to the satisfaction of any candid reader that Isaiah was an _Irish- man. ~Take a «inglo example (Isaiah xxxvi, 86), +And when they srose early in the morning they wero all dead corpses.’ ” —A sermonizer with a high forchead made these remarks upon the soul-saving question: )y brethren, & man cannot afford to lose his soul. He's got but one, and Lo can’t get an- other. [f aman loscs his borse,\he can get an- other; if a man loses his wife, he can get another ; if bo losee his child, he can got an- other ; but if he loses his soul—good-bye Johu.” —Some uscful leseon or example may be found in the most simple occurrences. At the Terre Haute depot, recently, an old lady at- fempted to get off while tho cars were in mo- tion. A geotleman standing at the door pro- ~vented ber. *Let her go,” exclaimed s kind- Bearted passenger, “if she gots killed it will be a warning to somebods elso. —A watter in s Bt. Louis restanrant was asked for o toothpick by one of the patrons—he had just tinished & bowl of oyster sonp. * What do Fou want with a toothpick 7 queried the waiter, ho had cultivated considerable familiarity with all the customers. *I want to pick an oyster from my teeth.” O, no, you don’t! There was only one oyster in that soup, end I ate thaton my way from the kitchen I” —_The late Dr. Macadam used to tell of atipsy Scotchman making his way homo on a bright Sunday morning, when the good folk werowend- ing their wav o the kirk. " A little dog pulled the ribbon from the hand of a lady who was leading it, and 88 it ran away from her she ap- pealed to the first paseer by, asking him to whis- 1le for her poodle. * Womun,” he retorted with that Bolemnity of vieage which only & drunken Scotehman can assume, * Woman, this is not & day for whistlin'.” A cross-eyed man cast a gloom over a De- troit car by asking one of the seven men, and strangers, on the opposite seat, “If he had apy chewing-tobscco handy.” First, the seven strangers looked at each other. Then tho seven bands went pocketward ; and, observing this motion, each of the seven supposed his neigh- bor the one spoken to, and the geven hands retarned empty. The cross-eyed man cost Ticochet glance of ivdignation along the line, and, with tbe remark, *A sweet-scented lot of generous roosters,” took a chew of his own tobacco. i At & school examination an eloguent clergy- man made & brief nddress to_the papils of the ‘nacossity of obeying their teachers and growing up loysl and useful citizens. ‘o emphasize his romarks, he pointed tos larzo national flag Bpread on one side of the room, and inquired, « Boys, what is that flag for 7 A little urchin, who undarstood the condition of the house bet- tor than the epeaker, promptiy aaswered, “‘To ide the dirt, sir.” i M:Gmgxg’menwmd, in a Iate letter, decribesa typical *poor-white” family of Missouri, caro- less, shiftless, and intolerably lazy, tae dsugh- tareof which were sccustomed togo barefoot till the soles omhu{ feet beé:u:%‘ hm’;m js story: - *One sud then tells B 8100 sy trom & loog in the rain after the cows, was standing on D ih dryiog her clothes, when her old mother drawled out, * Sal, ghu‘n_—c——hm-——cofl— nder—yer—foot.! ' The girl slightly turned her bead, sad dravlsd backs * Whicl—foot, mam- my 2! THE LAST JEST OF EOLF. From Tinaleys' Magazine. [In this somewhat remarkable story several incon- sistenciea will present themeelves to thie critical reader, for which we hold oursclves in nowise responaible. At the same timo the transiator begs us to shift the onus from his shoulders to those of one more eapable and deserving of bearing it—to one Peter of Glaston. ‘bury (s reverend gentioman, who has been dead some four or five centuries), wirose indifferent Latin he has translated literally in'so-s0 English,—EDp.] Laugh, hinds, laugh! Your lord has wedded tho sweetest maiden underheaven ; there is wine enough to swim in withal, and your new mis- tress has brought to you me, Eolf—the fool Eolf, who knows not what heaviness of heart means, who never felt a sorrow, or yearned hopelessly for soything. Be merry and glad, for you are to serve the swestest, gontlest, Iundest, fawest lady that ever breathed. Mind —it 18 I tell you this ; I, who have ENOWN HER ALL MY LIFZ. Ay, that's right, laugh. It's my humor to look 0. I warrant you never eaw suother young stripling of 18 with a comical old face like mine. Yet I tell you ’tis true, that I bave known the Lady Edith smnce I was a child no higher than this broken knee of mine. And she hasset mea chair beride her at the wedding-feast, and bid- den mo take of my motley dress aud be a fool no more. No, no; you shall langh at her fool bofore he lays aside his bells and his baable. There’s music in the bladder. Hark how the peas rattle, like teeth in an cmpty skull. There's nothing but joy in this house. Ha, ha,ba! Laugh, you dull gaping joltorheads! Thero is no care in this world to-day. Fetch me a horsc- collar, and I wil show you faces in it that when you seo your sides shall acho with laughter. See hero: would you think a man with a withered leg could pitch & summersaunlt lixo that? Xook! I can hold straws in tho furrows of- my cheoks 8o, and wallk on my hands thus! Laugh, laugh! Why do you stare at mo as though I were a ghost ? Have you nover seon & merry fool befors? Ha, ba, ha! LAUGH 48 I DO; soe how the tears run down my chocks with gaiety; hear how mirth chokes my voico. For the love of fun tell me if theso wrinkles about my mouth don't betray my merrimont? Bring me a horn of wine, and a good stout rush to lean npon, for I dio with laughter, Now will 1 toll you the merriest jest you ever heard. Oncoe upon a timo, & lord and a lady lived in & brave castlo ona hill. But the castle was cmpty, for the noble pur bad never a child, and they necded but few servants to ministor to their fow wants. They loved each other well. Both felt tho want of children, but most the lady re-~ grotted this childlessness; for the lord had his Torses and bis falcana for pets, and in hunting and hawking with neighboring lords he passed Dis days pleasantly; but when ber lord was sb- sent the lady found nothing that she could lave, and wandered throngh the empty rooms of the castle, thinking how sweet it would bo to SEE YOUNG FACES AND CHILDREN'S TOYS in them, and to hear merry laughter and pleas- ant voices instead of the echo of her own footfall, Sho was bappy when her husband returned, and never told him of her yearning; but be, becauso he loyed her, saw that she pined, and knew full well the cause. One night he drew her on his knee, and eaid : “ Wife mine, to-morrow is thy birthday; what shall I give thee as o token of love ¥ And the lady kissed lum and sai “Imneed no token, dear love, whilst thou art with me. I want nothing that thou canst give.” + But thou needst o tolten when I am away; and. indeoy, I fear that hound and hawk take me tvo muach from thee. I will bring thes to- morrow A FAIE CHILD, y and thou shalt rear it s though it were thine own. It wil be a comfort to thoo, and to me too when I grow too old to bo aoythiog bus a good stay-st-home. Tell me which it shall be—a little moid or a little man ? For I can male choice of eizhor, and both are equally fair.” Rather toplease her husband than ‘herself— for she bad little faith in o strange child filling the place in her heart that was vacant for one that should be truly her own—she accepted the proposed gift, and eaid ebo would Lave the chiid a little maid. So the very next morning the Earl Percy rodo away to fetch his wife ner birtiday it Now I shall make you laugh. A lcague from the castle were two huts in s wood. Iu onelived Gib, who kept the lord's horscs, and in the other Dalder, who managed the hawks. Now the rea- son thoy LIVED 50 TAT FROM THE CASTLE was this: Balder's wife guvo Lirth to a daughter every winter, and Gib's wife gave birth to a soa overy summer. Each child wos_gifted with healthy lungs, and was six months before it tived of exercising them; o that a contuual wailing and gnashing of gums arose from the ono or the other of the fruitful servants’ homes. It was pleasing to the Lord when Le first mar- ried; for ho said to himself, “Ab, presently there shall bo such a_yelling in my nursery a8 shall outshrick all this;" but when & year passed and no whimper was heard in the st the sound became hatelul to him, and he bade Bal- der and Gib build themselves dwellings where their progenies’ ebricks might bo ° unheard of mau. e advised thom to go into the wood becanse of the wolves; *‘for thero,” he said, “if the children don't frighten the wolves away—as I suspect they will—the wolves will cat thern ; 80 any way this removal to the woods will benefit mankind.” The lord's anticipations were correct; the wolves disappeared from the woods. The chil- dren of these two henchmen, as soon as they were of anagetodo suything beyond fright- ening wolves, A ASSOCIATED TOGETHER. Dalder's daughters played the wholo day long With Gib's sons. Tho two youngast, tied to one post, sucked ono crust. and developed their strength in scatholess combats, whilst the two cldest wandered through woods and over heaths bunting for birds’ nests, and berries, and tlowers. The girl was now 8 ycarsold; her name was Ldith, and her companion’s name was Eolf—ah, that Eolf was not ugly and broken asIam, but a bright, shining-baired yougfmr, with 5 skin of mulk and tecth of pearl. These two children were all in all to each other, and were never.sep- arate. They were seldom at home. The hut contained few charms for them, and their moth- ers bad sufficient cluldren to love, and cherial aud thrash without them, and indeed were wel content to give them their share of food aud let them take it to eat where they liked. Better thun the rangens THEY KNEW THE WOODS and what they contained. They made the ac- quaintance of a field-mouse, and cultivated & 1riendslip with the interesting family contained in ber nest; and Edith took upon_herself the dutics of maternity to some orphan magpies whoso mother Eoif had incontinently slain. They bad a castle in the rvomy branches of o tree that was ensy of ascent to Edith—a sanctu- ary whither they conld fly when snything like the 110wl of a wolf fell upon their ears. They had a bower where they spent hours when the sun was high and hot, and a palace under a rock whero they could laugh ot rain,snd ehelter themselvos from wind. ~ These Dossessions wero extensively ornamented with the esgs sud feathers of birds, fir cocoons, and flowors. The oges and feathers Eolf procured, whilst Edith coliected the flowers; aud when che had arranged them, they would both sit and admire the offcct. It was of those two chuldren that the Earl offered his wife the chaice. One motning early, a8 the children were sleep- ing side by side in Baldor's hut, the Earl rode up to the door, and Balder, who knew for what he came, bade Gib hold his boy whilst he loosened Fdith from his arms. 1t was dono in a moment : but Gib bad an hour's work after that to nold Eolf ; for the boy, finding Edith taken from Lim, 2and himself restrained from following her, WRITHED, AND BIT, AND STRUGGLED like a wolf’s whelp. Meanwhie Edith was set in front of the Earl and borne away to the castle, never more to return to her playmate or the woods. Boon, soon shemust have overcome Ler griet in losing them, for how much more had she ined in their place! Her heart was too tender 2nd loving to retain 3 single affection, shutting out all others. o that she have love, a child's heart does not ache. What had she to regret? What memory of the past could rival the joys of pernew Life? Froquently the two had hungered ‘when food was scarce at home, ahd found their rags an insufficient protection from the north wind; now she had the costliest garments, and every desite was gratified. Between her and the gentle wife of Earl Percy grew s love more full Snd tenderthan that she felt for Eolf. For, though the boy would Lave given his life to please her, he could never have gained her whole heart. Thare is & love posseesed only by a good and loving woman whose deiicato Eoftness inspires a devotion m children as_none other can. This it was that linked Edith to her foster-mother ; snd bt for this like & ] bud that is ‘concealed from the Lght, the | more beautifal phase of her nature might uever have been known. AND SHE WAS HAPPY; and there was indeed now laughter and prattle in the castle. Butit was otherwise with Eolf. There was uono to fill the place in his heart that Edith had possessed. At home he waa regarded as 20 unnccessary nuisance and a misfortune. Circumatauces fostered the feeling of exclusive affoction which had been growing in his heart, and he felt less than ever able or desirous of as- sociating with the youngerchildren. hen Gib, in eonsequence of receiving a blinding kick 1 the eyo from the strugling urchin, permittod lim 0 eacape, and indeed_expedited’ his depar- ture by propulsion with his own foot. Eolf ran to the familiar resorts in thp woods where Edith would be likely to #ly if she followed a course with reference to her captor si r to Lis own. Ho lept 1n the wood ; and before the sun he rose, and continued hié_search. At might ho went home for food. But all the day he wandered through brake and brier, in vain endeavoring to find his lost Edith. Hs would climb hills that tricd the atrougth of mon, his little heart illod with the hope that from_the cresc he shoula ses some trace of her, Then he would look around over the dosolate valloys and call her name, and listen long for the anawer that nover came. He ponotrated the scrub of tangled foreste, and the stillnoss which mayhap Lad never boforo been broken by a human voice, he cried, “gprTy, EDITHI" until bis piping voice broke with the grief of his heart. He would despair, and sit down in the midst of wide heath erying and sobbing until kind of desperation posscssed him, when he would jump up, and run along hopelessly, fright- oning the timid rabbits to their burrows with his Llubbering. ‘The exercine prosorved his health from tho offects of this nonatural sorrow; yot maybe his mind became affecied, and his love wag but a madness. One day Eolf’s mother said to Gib, * Lolf eats and grows, but does uothing but hunt and ravo after Balder’s child.” Q@ib kept awake until Xolf wandered in at night, and said to him, ** To-mor- row, Eolf, go yon to the woods, and bring in doad boughs, and il them sgalnat the hus nght up to the eaves.” When Gib returned from work thie next night and fouud 1o wood piled he was vexed, snd again sat up yawning. Gib loved to sleop after bis work, 8ad remaining awake an- noyed him even more than Eolf's disobedienco; o when tho child came into the hut, Gib seized htm by the hair and_beat him. and told him he should fare worse if the next night a stack of wood was not fonnd. But he never touched his son again; for when Eolf was fres he wont out of the door, and NO MORE PASSED IN. From that time Lo lived totally in the woods and was » savage. Ho undorstood bow to make fire, and grew cunning in the trapping of Dird and beast for food. When winter cams Le made fagots, and drow them before his cavern, barying himself in moss and loaves, aod fur and feathors. He became brown with exposure to the weather; and his fair hair, all tangled and ragged, descended about bis shoulders, - As yoars passod and ha grow, his aspect beeamo Btiil more strange and formidablo, 80 that he Va8 regarded with fear and dread throughiout all that country. Inthe most diverse places and times he would suddenly appear and scare trav- clers by mflluu% to them, staring in their faces, and 88 suddenly disappear with a wild ery of despoir, If, seeing Lim at o distance, they spurred on thoir horses to avoid him, ho would pursue, and when be found it impossible to overtake them he would stretch Lis arma towards them, cryiog in_a piteous tone of sufipliclfiefl, “Idith, Edith!” ITe was never heard to gay any word but this, and it was believed IE COULD SPEAK NONE OTHER. When the Eartheard of this and found that it was Gib's son, he ordered that the Iad should be captured and treated kindly, yet with restraint whilst his madness lasted. "Aiso lo took such precaution that Edith nover heard a word that shou!2 make her remember with sorrow the playmate of her childhood. But it was found impossible to. calch Eolf; his cunning aad agility defeated the greatest efforts of those sent to capture him ; indeed, these efforts were not very great, for the poor rascals, filled with superstitions dread of tho “wild man,” were well coutent when ho ran away from them. is; Btrange appearance added greatly to the” terror Lis habits inspired. With the skins of rabbits, and squirrels, and s wolf he had contrived & covering for his body which protacted him _effectualiy from the rain and frost, but gave him a terriblo likeness to the beast and fiend he was by most supposed to be. And, but that he worshiped & beng of infinite grace and sweetness, instead of a thing of evil, HE WAS A FIEND. There was no love or {eeling in bim but for one. The changing seasons, the llowers, the_ starry heavons, the song of birds, mever stirred & fibre of his heart. What woro tho golden val- leys, what the purple hill and the silver rivalets, to him? In tho valleys he found not Edith, from the hills he could but sco the desolate empty world, in the water ho saw bat the re- flection of his own gad, weird face. All, all was barroen, cold, dead lifelessness to him., And now Edith was grown tall and womaaly, and her heart was old enough to choose ont of u.\ndwhols world one being for its devotion. Anc SHE LOVED BROWN HAROLD. But deep, sud fond, and pire as was her _love, it was not exclusive ; she was not mad. Every thing of beauty appenled to her gentler nature. Every phase of life excited her sympathy. The love for her foster-mother, whose gentleness and aweot simplicity she shiared, was uot dimin- ished because she loved Brown Harold more. Many. & wooer had she; for the fame of her Deaaty and aminbility spread all over the land. Even the King's son sought her hand, but she gave it to Brown Harold, the poorest of all her overa, and 8o made him the richest. Neither the Earl nor hielady was quite pleased with her clection ; they would have had her marmy a Prince ; but, when they found how truly these two loved each other, they rofrainced from saging or doing snything' which might cloud Edith's_bappincss, and with a somowhat rueful joy the noble foster- parents betrothed them and beheld their glad- ness. 1 toll yon what, my feilow-fools, we have rea- son to be thankful our senses are no better than they are. It would Lave bauished the smile from poor Edith's cheek, as she listened to her lover einging beneath her window, to Lave scen afar off A MAD SAVAGE standing up to his knees io the wet ferns upon the waste, looking round about in the moonlight to sce if she were thore, and to have heard the poor wretch crying from lis lonely, miserable hieart, “ Edith, Edith " One night when Eolf crawled from his burrow ho smelt emoke, and beheld a tongue of flame flickering in_the distance. He walked to- wards it; it increased, aod the smoke grew lund. Ho pussed the confines of s park, sad presently found bofore Lim a blaz- ing castio. The castle wns nncient, and unlike the castles we build now. It had no baylo and no outer worl, save the fosse and barbacan. At each corner stood a tower five stories high. and each was clotbed in green ivy, The fosse, filled by a natural spring, was broad and deep; yet of what avail was the water that flowed around the blazing pile? Except one of the four towera tho WHOLE BUILDING WAS IX FLAMES. A group of deeply-engrossed people stood be- fore Eolf. They were not looking at the castle, but at the Earl, who was kneeling over a charred dy. s Tt is his wife,” said ono. “No,” replied another; *it is the Lady Editb.” G Iédith!" shouted Eolf, bursting through the crowd. *No, no," cried Brown Harold, who, too, was beside f.bebodl’; “iv is not ehe. Kdithis still in the castle]” and ho sprang to his feot, and, rushing to the barbacan, would haye plunged into the fire, but that hands restrained bim. At that instant & piercing shriek issued from the uppermost casement in the tower which yet re- mained untouched by the fire, whilst for the timo a tigurs wes seen standing there. Then it disappeared, and after the ecream with which the crowd beaeath had echoed that from above, only the roaring of flames, the crackling of tim- bers, and the hisa of embers falling in tho moat were heard. The voico was still. Probably she—sither the wifo or child of the Earl— . WAS SUTFOCATED BY THE SMOKE now issuing freely from the cascment. All wers silent in presence of the tragedy taking place within 200 fect of them, but which they were powerless to prevent. The fosso was twenty yards brpad and the lowest aperture in thetower thirty foet above the wator's edge. The means of sccess by the drawbridge and through the ha'l was impracticable ; a furnace forty yards through must be penetrated to reach it. For now the tire was eating into. the lower chamber of the tower, and throngh the arrow- slits the emoke spurted out. Presontly another rending scream from the tower was heard, and the figure was seen standing on the crenelated top. 1hen answered Eolf : _** EDITH, I coxe!” He plunged into the moat, and like a cat he scaled the face of the tower, clingiug by toe, and finger, and tooth to the ivy. Bub the ivy lad little hold upon the centre of the wall and broke beneath him, frail a3 he was ; he contrived to geot his fingers in sa acrow-slit, and, haogiog there, cast his eyes to the right and left for some botter support than the fragile ivy. The smoke issuing from the arrow-slit to which he hold would render climbing above it abortive ; aud the opening throngh which he wa$ to enter was yot twenty faet higher. Ho again grasped the ivy, and worked oblijuely upwards until by this means he reached a bat- tress that ran up against the cornerof tho edi- fice. Here the irregularities of the surface wero greater, and not only afforded the ivy & firmer Tiold, but preecated some kind of scaling assist- ance. Eolf rapidly sscendel aud passed the levol of the casement; then he quitted the but- tress, and quickly jerked himscif towards tho centre. As the ivy broke Le decended, but ev- ery fresh hold bronght him nearer to the cen- tre, and at length he threw himself in tho aper- tare of the thick wall. ‘Chrough this the smoke that poured was no longer black, bat RED AND SCORCHING. The means of commuuication between the chambers was by hatches in_the floors and Iad- ders between. When Eolf had enterea the cham- ber he cow.d ece the clunksin the floor by thefire beneath, and through the opening from the lower chambor s flame was ghooting upwards to the one above and licking the ladder. “Through that flamo and up the erackling ladder he must go. Closing his cyes against the - stinging smoke, Lo ruebed forward. His foot struck sometbing; and he stumbled and fell upon the very edge of the hatch. It was the door of the hatch agaiost wiich be stumbled, aud the door closing with Dis fall shut down the flame. He sprang up the 1addor and found his way from chamber to cham- ber instinctively, until presently be behold the glowing sky through the last remaining opening above fim." Aud then ke stood upon tho leadod roof. COWERIKG I A CORNER, appalled and stupefiod by tho fate which seemed inevitable, was Idith—IEdith, no longer & child, vet sull Ldith. e kvew it was sho. Iod Lo boen Dlind ho should have knawn that, Ay, though a swallow bo forsaken and left to wither in solitude, it will find its way to the South, and think you it knows not when it hag od the goal? Altered! How can the thing wo waorship alter beyond onr knowl- edge? Ye who find your God in she oalk, kuow yo Hlim not in the lightuning that strikes it to the earth? What had this Ealf pictured his Edith bat a being of infinite grace and beauty? and thore in the corner lay that being ot infinite grace and beauty. He threw himself beside her and baried his face in ber bosom, murmuriog her name again and agoin, Until she heard his voice and folt his head upon her breast, Edith knew xnot that help was at band. At once it aroused her from her dull apathy ; but to what knowledge ? Did she recognize i ? Did she know who had braved fire and death for her? A cry of joy came from her lips, and she threw her arms sbout the panting boy's neck, and for oce instant wmn his life Eoif felt rapture. Bt hearken, yo who love a good joke aod csn Iaugh at the agony of fools, hoarken to this ex- cellent quip: as her head dropped fainting upon tho madman's neck sho said, ‘¢ HAROLD—XY HAROLD Eolf was dull at reading riddles then, Hisdull it waa not capable of finding the point of this oxcellont joxe for a while; and as he held his Leloved in his arms a vague wonder filled his mind, that be should be calied Harold wha be- lioved his name to be Eolf. But the recollection of him they had called Harold, who had attempt- ed to rush into the burning hall, came upon him, and with it a dim perception of the fact which in all hia thoughts of her had never cutered his imagination. Cannot you imagino what a com- ical fronzy filled the “wrotch's heart as he said to himeell, ** She knows me not, she Jovesmo not! Anotber is toher what she 18 to me, and I—I alone am forgotten™? o rose to his fet 20d took her up in his arms, and, with a strength wo young ones know not, be Jeapt on the para- pet of the tower, and held her beforo him n the fuil light of the firc below. He looked at this creature for whom every action of his body, ev- ery thought of his mind, had_been spent. 'She was stll Edith, so fair, so beautiful, yet not . 18 EDITH No MoRE. . What symbol waa thero for him in the palo_cold ghadow of death that invested the worshiped being in his arms ? Had ho found ber but to know that bo had more surcly lost hor 2 For- ever sho waa dead to him. Dead, dead ! Yot now sho lay aginst his breast as sho had lain beforo; this wos hoppiness! Why should she not 50 die, and feel no more the pangs of conscious— neas ! He looked down into the pit of flame, He had but to inoline his Loy a few inches, aud who should separate him from bis beloved ? No mora vain yourning and_despairing loncly un- Tovedness, - Why should he not forget her one word, Harold,” and in the utter happiness of anion perikh ? i Tia, s, ha! Ho, ho, bo! This fellow was born 2 fool, and educated Limself into s madman, a5 1 have ehown, and the result of both way IHE COULD NOT FORGET when ho wished. When bo turoed his eyes from tho tempting flamea below to the face of the girl in his arms, it scemed to him as if she was put sleeping thore a child, as she had slept on that last nizht whon they Ead iaken her from him ; and upon his memory came the wor sho whispered before ghe closed ler eye: “Eolf, wilt thou make me s daisy-chain to-morrow ?” and how, whea le had answoved her ‘‘Yes,” she bad kissed bim and esid it would make her happy. His heart was touched ; his strength failed bum ; he tottered on the wall. And then he regaincd his strongth a3 he kissed her for the last time in his fife and said, * I will make thy chain.” A fow moments in this man's lifctime com- prised more emotions and perils than happen to another in sixty years, Five minutcs had not elnpsed from the ‘timo of entering the tower by the casement to tho timo he reentered it by she upper batch. But in that five minutes_tho fire had been eating its way upwards, and flamea now carled through the casement by which ho had entered, and the besms In the roof of that chamber were _splitting and spluttering in the beat. Eolf had no plan of escapo; all that entcred his mind was THAT HE WOULD. And to descend as ho had ascended was the means he at once cesayed. His eager haste had made him omit to closo tho succooding traps after him 08 he ascondod, and the fames baving overcome the first, thero was no impediment to the smoke, which now belched up through the hole he must descend by. Into this cloud, and down the ladder into the firat chamber, Le slid and scrambled, careful only that Edith shounld suffer no coutusion. The necessity for air forced him to the casement. A brisk wind awept the face of the tower and enabled bim to gasp a few moutlfuls of air. Again he rushed into tho smoke and descended. The current of smoke scorched his face as he entered the second apartment. He thought of Edith, andas ho st00d at this casement ho toro tho still saturated furs from Lis body and wrapped them about the girl. He liftod her upon his shoulder, and once more groped to the hatch and got his feet upon the lagder. Half-way down ho stopped. THE JEAT WAS FEARFUL. Ho opened bis eyes, Tho lower part of the lad- der was burning ; jets of flame were flickering from the tloor, and o shaft of flame and sparks rising through tho trap. It was impossible to descend there. He began to rcascend. The fodder crumbled and slipped sideways ; still be clung to it, and with the next step put 'his hand upou the edge of tho holo above. The iédder crumbled again, and with his weight slipped en- tirely from under him, falling and throwing up a thousand embers. Eolf hung for a moment by one hand—for one moment—and then fell, Then in some way, though how God who guided him ouly knows, Le got to_the essement with Edith, thrust himself through, snd, holding ber agminet his breast, fluog himself back downwards into the mont, and iv that position by a mercy he fell into the water, 50 TIIAT EDITH WAS SAVED, The water eplit open Eolf's naked back, as neatly 2a o flesher runs his whittle down a hart's ‘back ; that was a fine thing to bring him back to life snd make him forget his burns! Not until they dragged bim from the water, with her he still held in his arms, did consciousness kindly consent to leave him. 0 you clowns! you don’t deserve s fool. You can't appreciate & funny ptory unless it bo sea- soned with fire and blood. But I'll make yon Isugh for fun's eako before I've done, Bring me a born. ‘This is what the chatterbox told Eolf, as he Iy on s litter, apd when his consciousness, after some weeks' absence, returned to him. When the Lady Edith recovered from her shock, swhich was speedily,—for sbefwas 8 strong and » healthy girl,—she suffered one still greater. She heard that her gentle foster-mother was burned and desd. Then the Earl bade her prepare for & yot grester ordeal, and told ber that DEOWY HAROLD WAS XO MOBE. # No, oh no, it cannot be!" cried Edith. * He eavedme ! Had he perished, I must have per- ished too.” ¢ He gaved thee 7" said the Earl. Yes, yen. I held him in thess £rms upon the tower top and in the moat.” Then the Earl baried his faco in his hands for some moments in thought or grief, sud, whenhe raised it, be said : “For all that, he perished by tho fire. The injuries he sustained then have been fatal since.” one dsy the Earl drew her to him sad said : let thy father’s love in part fill the place of-that which is no more.” Then she took his hand, and, pressing it, she said : “+ \Ve will both struggle to forget, my father.” The Earl came to the bedside of the wild man, the madmap. the beast, aud said: ] would ropay thew, if it is possible, for &hn thou bast done. Tell me wha: I can give 08." Eolf answered: | The Earl frowned, but the good' woman who nursed Bolf took him aside, and whispered to him that Eolf was mad ; thon the anger vanish- od from tho Earl's brow, and compassion was thero aa ho said : *Yes, yes, my poorboy, vou shall have Edith ; you sball live with ua in” the fine new castle I am building, and ba everbeside her.” _Eolf snatched his hand and pressed it to hia lips nud sank back exhausted, for he was still weak. But, with the prospect of being near his beloved Edith once more, be rapidly recovored strength; 8o that in a fow weeks hie was suered to walk in the sunshine alons. The Earl's considorate care had provided for him brave clothes, such as never beforo he had wom. No single garment of thonged ekins, but Lose, and o jerkin_ likewise. As Ee stcpped into the sun in those fine things THE WILDEST DREAMS filled his imagination. Brown Hsrold was dead and Edith forgetting him ; might not her old Iove for the companion of her childhood retnrn 2 In his new clothes, and with bis light hair kempt, might he_not look, when bealth roturned to him, handsome even a3 Brown Harold? Might they oot love each other a8 of oid, uay, wi lové growa desper and stronger with the years that had passed? He saw a man lesdig "a gailyeaparisoned hors, sad him he followed until horse and sorvant sivod npon & grassy slops before the houes wherein the Earl lived whilst his new castle was_a-building. Eolf waited trembling ; perliapa this was her steed, and now he should scoher. Inono eupposition ho was right, for presently from tho door there came the Farl, all prepared for ridiog, a0d upoa his arm clang Edith. Tor one momest Eolf could not move ; the next heran forward and called her name. He was closo npon her before she was conscious of his presenco, but when, turning, she saw him sho screamed and clung tight to her foster- father, agif for protection. The Earl twisted himself between them, raising bis hand; but he had no need to strike, EOLY HAD RECEIVED XTS DLOW. Edith feared him, and shrunk away as if he had been a viper. Eolf eowered on the turf as though be had beon whipped into subjection liken hound. 'The Earl dropped his band, sad, taking Eolf kindly by the shonlder, said : *This is the poor boy I told you about; he is perfectly harmless and good.” ‘Edith looked up aé him with tears of pity in her eyes, and boldly took Eolf's hand in hers as sho gaid; ** Tam weak and casily frightened. Thoumust not startle mo again. 1 want one to protect me, and give jme coursge. Thou shalt atup with 'mo whilst my {athor 1s away, and amuse me— wilt thou 2" . For nine yeara Eolf had not used his tongue but for the utterance of one word, and now he could find no expression for the thor in it soul. The muscles of his face move: Earl burst into laughter Joud and long ; aud, when Eolf looked at him in astonishment, ko lsughed agein. ** Ho haa the drollest faco I ever beheld,” eaid the Earl. * He's s born fool. This very day I will get a sct of bells for him, and ho ghall be MY ZANY MENCEFOBTIL" Eolf was stupefied and bewildered. He could understand nothing then! Why @id his face movo ono with terror and another with mirth ? Why waa he pitied and compassioned liko a mis- erable dog ? It was not until he bad seep his faco in a brook that he knew how frightful he was ; with what eomic lines and dimples those burning embers and_blazing beams had covered his face. He was frightenod of himself, and from the reflection; then, as ho ven- tured again to look, and saw tho expression of his faco, he laughed—laughed for the first time aughed ten times loudor and longer than the Earl. Itell you it makes one laugh to ind for the first time in your lifo that you are a fool in— stend of & man; that God’s put you here for men to langh at and women to pity; to kuow that you aro fit for nothing amongut men BUT TO WEAD DELLS. Something else made Eolf laugh befors long. Ho found out that ho was just com- ing to his senses, tnd that he had becn stark-mad all his life. 'When he mado faces and Deat people with his bauble, and ehouted and Iaughed, folks gaid : **It's pleasant to seo what kind treatment can do. Here art thou,who wast 25 mad a8 a dog, getting guite scnsible and like other human beings. thon couldst only get that idea out of thy head that thou savedst the ZLady Edith, thou wouldst bo all right ! Yes, indoed, this Eolf was coming to his senses. All day long he eang, and cspered, and Jaughed, making tho whole houso merry with his antics. Even the Lady Edith smiled at some of bis tricks, and this pleased tho Earl greatly. Bat he pleased her in othor ways, for ho would b absent for hours, and return with sach flowers from wood and Leath 28 she most loved. She used to say HOW CGRIOUS IT WAS that he should kunow what flowers she li Ho watchod her face and scemed to divine her thougins, snd with his utmost tonderness re- garded them, doing nothing which might not harmonize with them and avor;thing that conld soothe her or give her plewsure. Ono day she said to him : “Eolf, I know not how I conld live without theo." But when she gave him ot night her hand to Iiss, it was as the mistress gives hor hand to aslave, and he knew Low much, bow litzle, bor ‘words implied. _She, too, was delighted to think o was recovering from_his maduess, and once or twice put him to trinl. She spoke of Brown Harold, of his bravery in rescuiug her, and of his death, and Eolf eaid, * Brown Harold was brave,” and never contradicted her ar tried to put her right. B WHY SHOULD HE? ‘Wonld anything transfer to him, an ugly fool the Jove ehe held for one handsomer than he ha ever been? Would she love him more becanse he Joved Harold lees? DBub sometimes, when Edith sat alone, pepsive and sad, whon tho Earl was away and she seemed destic tute of a loving heart, in whose shelter she could forget her great sorrow, Eolf, watching her, felt his heart beat bigh, and the yearning catio upon hum to suatch hor’ into. bis arms and to say, * Edith, my heart's love, 1 am the Eolf who was thy firet love, with whom thou wander- edst years ago. I am Eolf, who for thee lost my manliness, and besuty, and strength, and health, and reason. Tell me of thy trouble, aod let me comfort theo 88 my heart prompts.” But the first movement of his body set the bells a-tink- Jing, and be said to himself, “No, I ama born fool, and must LIVE AND DIE ACCURSED."” The Earl was seifish, a8 men are, and secing Edith on Lis _return in the evening with the cheerful smile she assumecd to give him pleasuro, he was_quite conten;,‘ and ate, and drauk, aud hunted 25 of old. He saw not that Edith’s cheak waa pals and thin, and knew not how for long bours she brooded over ber love for Brown Harold. But the fool did; and fre- quently bis face, &8 bo looked at the Eazl, woro alook that was mot comic. Ono day the fool founa Edith with a carl of brown bair in her lap and ber faco buried in her bands. Eolf would have crept away unseen but for his cursed bells, Edith raired her head and beck- oned to him. He knelt beside her. “Thou must not tell my kLind fsther thatT l:n so foolish; baut O, Eolf, I did love Har- old go.” As Earl Percy slept that night there came one in the dark and KNELT UPON HIS THLOAT, and the point of & knife pricked the flesh of his breast. Hot breath wason his face, and theze ‘words were whispered in his ear: “ Where ia Brown Harold " “You are choking me.” ¢ Whereis he 2 ¢ Take that knife from my breast.” “ Whers is he 2" 1 cannot bresthe.” “ Where ishe #” “ By i Wherc is he, liar 2 “ Dead.” * Then die tho too ! ” * Wait,” ¢ Where ishe 2" . s # Under the care of my brother in Kent.” « Rapert ? Now if thou liest thou diest. + Rupert.” ¢ Give me thy ring. Bo! Now, move bat an inch, and thou diest.” v The knee was removed from the Earl's throat, and presently the knifo from his breast; bat when he moved the point returmed. Bo be Isy back, and no sound told him that ne Wag mot still threatened. He prayed for day- And when it came and sbowed him no light, s foo, ' he_sprang from his bed and sum- mmledhil&mmhnld. ZOLF WAS MISSING. Whilst his men armed themselves at his di- rection, and one went for horses, he questioned, bat conld learn nothing to_prove that his night attacker was Eolf. Only Edith bad heard him. e had whispered into_her chamber, *‘Igo te For some time Edith was inconsolable ; but mem iy shain More s e Bk ~ 1100 have lost. Bethou my comfort, and 4 Whare 15 Dy Dorsp “ Sire, the stables are empty.™ s On the Earl's mare Eolf sped noisclessly over the green grass, taking mo course save that . which the borse chose, and which seemed to tend away from the starting-point. Whon the mora- iug came be sa a cowherd, aud to him he rods up and asked in which direction lay Kent. Tha herdsman looked a: the mare sll speckiad with flecks of foam, and then at the fool in his mot- ley, and acked, *‘ Whom dost thou seek 2" “That matter doesn't concern thee. how L may get to Kent.” The herdsman patted the mare's nack, and coming beside Eolf sxid : *+ OR, you can kedp your secretif you like. and 1 can kesp mine ; and 5o we may both p: It is no secret ; I do but seek my brother, who is a falconer there.” “Well, I have no secrct neither, for I know not the way to Kent ; but my father, who cuts wood on the nill, knows, We will ask him.” The two ascended she slopo ; Eolf not without fear that his gnide was dishonest, and his com- panion with somewhat similar .gapnhenmns Te- fearding bim. e kept cloge to Eolf's side, and said little until they wora withm sound of the Ax_,dnud at tho outajirt of the wood ; then he said : **My father is cutting wood for our master the Baron, who lies in the castla up there.” Eolf pulled bis horse's rein. “Ipay nomail to your master,” a0 said, snd digging his heels into the marcs's xide e jerked her round, and in_another moment would have been balf dowa the hill, but that ths cowherd had slipped his knife under tho ssddle-girth. A moment sutticed for the mare to alip tbe rider from her back, and Eolf FOUND HIMSELF ON IfI8 BACK with the herdsman upon him, holding him by the throat, and shouting for help. When Eolf was secara between four or five lusty woodnien, tho herdsian Jaughed and eaid : * The mare will gec_home safe; she knows the road between this and Earl Porey's well enough, I trow. Why, thon fool, that mere was our young master’s, and bofore Lie gave it to the Farl ho rode day after day upon it to eee his lady- love, the Earl's daughter. ‘Thou wilt be hauged for this jest, my fina follow.” Bat hanged he was not ; for Brown Harold's kinsmen, when thoy heard all Eolf had to tell, tea him, gave him wine, covered his motley with 5 chain bauberk, and his scriped legs with greaves, put & maco in his haud for 3 bauble, and set him on s brave horse. ‘Then Brown Harold's brothers arrayed them- selves in proof, and placing the fool amongst them rode into Kent; but night fell upon them befora they had arrived ot their journey's end ; and as they could find neither thetr road nor one to guide them to it, they tethored their horses and mado a fire on a Lill's side. ‘They sot pick- cts, and of theso Tell ma EOLP WAS ONE. Ho knew every sound of the night, and his ear and eye hsd long mought in the dark. Ho was the fist who heard the jingling of arms and caparisons far dowr belowin tho hollow. Dat before he gave the slarm he hurried down the hill until he found himeelf in the road they had lost. He listened. The jingliog became more distinct. Liko a hind e ran forward along the road, and, findin it wound npwards, ho kopt along its conrse unt! he beheld on one sids the glimmer of the fire. When his friends heard his tidings they broke green boughs {rom the trees, and gatherad Drake, which was wet with daw, and threw thom on the fire. Then they mounted their horses and followed Eolf, who led them into the road; and there thoy halted. ~ As yot none but Ealf conld hear » sound, and soma were_inclined to mistrust him. But he bade them follow him. and post themselvas where thoy might LIz 1N AMDTAL, and attack with advantsge tho party, if it proved to be of their focs, So they asconded the hill still farther, until they came to a part whers Eolf, who was on foot, bade thom advance with care. Ethelbert, tho brother cf Harold, said if the plice wora dan- gerous for them they might mako it still more perilous for others. 8o he got from his horse, and others with him, and they examined ho spot carefully. The road was cut in the chalk- nll; on one mde was nothing but a few bushes between it and the precipitous bill-side ; on the other s fir-wood ascended. “Then Ethelbort orderced lia little troop in this wise: six stout men ho made to lic down in the fern by the roadside, and under the firs, with thelr drawn swords beside them and their croas- bow bolts upon the spring. ‘The horses of thoss were tied up in tho wood. Two skilled horse- men he posted B0 thal they might attack m; wit troop in thoir rear, and another dimself stationed themsclves wupoa the road_above the footmeo. Eolf was el lowed to FIGUT AS HE PLEASED, #o that he came not botween tho horsemen. These arrangements were made so well and speedily that the rattle of tho accoutremente were but just audible when Ethelbert took hir position. Then they waited, listening to theap- pronching party, each man’ ehivering with ex« citement and hopefal that those who approsch- ed were foes, and would fight. Presently Eolf brought wora that the party numbered tivelve, and shortly after an owl hooted. That was the sigual that the party bad passed tho foromost men. The advancing horsewen ware laughing aud jesting, but when they heard the owl” they were silent. ‘Then from the darkness in front spake Ethelbert: *‘Who are yo who travel armed by night?" # Who are ye who queation us " * Such as will have an answer. Speak!” “T e your master if, as I think by your voice, you aro Ethelbert of Tretlon.” I am Ethelbort of Tretton, and God shall do- cide which of nis is master if you are no better than Earl Percy of Anjou.” +T am Percy d'Anjou.” There was an audible murmur ef satisfaction under the firs. 8 “ Then defend yourself, accursed villain.” “Truce! Waare ambushed. Give us fair fight, or take my wager.” : * Woare eleven to twelve ; think you I will trust the honor of Brown Harold's gaoler? In the name of God aud chivalry, AT THE, MEN OF MINE!” Then the crossbowmnen yelled and the string. of their bows sang, aud the bolt crashed throngh helm and coraslet. The horses durst not move for the dresd of the hill-side and of the clatter- ing steel before and behind them, but reared anc. plunged in answer to the spur ; and ths horse- men, knowing not but that the foes woro amongst them, wero bewildered. The foremost succecded in charging formard ; bat the whirl- ing ball of Ethelbert’s mace struck tho head of Earl Percy's horse and felled him, and he who rode beside was turned from his course and leaped down tho hill. ,And the footmen, grasy ing their swords in ‘both hands, clove st the horsemen ; whilst they, not knowing Iriend from foe, struck madly about them, goading their horses with their spurs and striking them with the butts of their swords; thon the harassed bessts turned this way and that, sad sprang forward like mad things, somo of thom falling on swords, and others loapiug dowa the declisity, but few passed scatheless from tha battle-place. Ha, ba, ha! THAT'S WOKE TOU TP, " has it, yon blood-and-thunder-loving scullions You want to know how many wece killed, why Earl Percy was spared, and bow 'thoy Wrested Drown Harold from Hopert d’Anjou. Ah, well; sk Siewald 3¢ the door there; be fought in the fight, and knows: but I ahsll tell no more—that’s my bumor. But Eolf took & loser to his own love—thera's s jest for you 1— and what did he get for his pains? Did she no- tice erooked, maimed, burned Eolf, whilat besu- tiful Brown Harold held ber inhis arms? Did he feel that happiness which attends all dqmq don't I lsugh—ha, ha!—till with my langhter? and can any .one lsugh who isn't bappy? 1'm to take off my sorvant's livery,—tnese merry bells and all,~and I'm to live well, and die fat. For I've brought your master home from captivity, and restored him to the loveliest, sweetest, geotlest lady that livea, And now that she {s nappy, WHAT NEED HA® SRE OF A YOOL? What neod has the sweet bird that skims over the golden cloud of the beast that crawls woarily under its biack shadow? Hark, bark! They are toasting the bride, nnd that rippling mnsic jsher laugh. Listen, listen! The sweet bird wings. Then Eolf threw himself upon his bauble, and the bladder burst with a snap. He raised him- self, and, with 4 laugh almost ltke an echo of his burst rattle, he said : ** That was my beart that anapped; and 8o ends this merry, merry jest.” é\n dropping his head upon the floar, the fool e HISTAKEN. Yo esy that Lave fs sizong as Desth: Ye know not what ye speak. Bball Love be as the festle breath, ‘The color an the cheek ? Stronger than Death, or Woe, or Time, 1s Ho who rules above ; And through the storm of ages chime ‘His own words, * God s Zove.” Death i the subject-alave of Love; For Love is God on high: Btronger than Love rules abovs, Tl Death himself shall die, wClara F. Guernacy (a Qid and Nes for Febriarp,;