Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, March 29, 1874, Page 11

e e P e e e e AMONG THE SEWING-WOMER. The Miserable Prices They Receive for Their Work. puly Forty Cents® Pay for Ten Honrs® Labor! ’ How Sewing-Machines Have Be- come a Curse. 1n the search of any one thing, & person ueg- - finda somo particulars that he did not cxpect, Yhich eitker Brigbtens or darkens his putbwar, fegires him with hope ordepresses him with ioom. A research into woman's work roveals Yittle of » hopefal charzcter, little that is cheer- ine fu its nature, but much, very much, of the gaddest ide of life. To realize how extremely mdit iz, we need to try tho difforent depart- ments for only one day, o experienca it fn all fis grim reslity. A lady can very easily grabiy bz curiosity, and obtait some knowludge upon she subjects, by inguiring whero she would be Jiely to procute work, and whers she could find s bonrding-houso or & oot suited to the pay ehe woo'd receive. If sho doee not thep, in tho oa- pacity of 8 working-woman, 8es enough and hear enongh to mateher heart sick, it vill be becanse sho does mot possess o hears, but a calloused gubstance hias taken its place. SER DAINTY, BUFFLED WIAPPERS orn by ladies in the caily part of the day are {requently made by women at thewr homes. It gocaus ke & desocretion of tho term to call the place where & Womsn lives, who is dependent fpon govlng for the atores for & Livelibond, by ihe epdesring titte of home. It isutterly im- possible for any person who s compelled to work 8t such business for a living te obtzin any- {hing i:ke dectnoy in tho shape of a home. That paet who rendored himself immortal by writing Though ever 80 humule, there’s no place like home, 2coald ever bave mede the attempt to establish » bome with the money a sewing-woman can esn. The girl cr woman who commences work as a wrappes-maker, hss, in the firet place, to invest 95 tonts in patterns,—50 cents for thelong wrap- per pattorn, and 45 cents for the short one, a8 ‘she is obliged to furnish her own patterns. Nine :s0d halt yards of cloth is the amount given, gat of which she constructs the garment, with lits frills and facbelcws, pockets, cuffs, &c. She ie o npelled to sseume 1he responsibility of ¢ t 1+ g'it, and woe to Lerif eho is wasterul of fer ol.th, or makes & mirstep vih her shears; the 1esuic Wl be ihat sbe must keop the ma- {erial for her owa use, and refund the prics of it t2 her ewployor. Bat, the garment cat outall right, 816 proceeds to mikeit; and, ofter steady work for four Lours, it 8b3 isan old, experieuced worker, sbe will have completed the wrapper, for whichsue recaivos tte magn:ficent remuneration of 5 TWENTY-TWO C2NTH ; fame emp'cyors pay only 21 cents! In eome in- tances, employers furnish the thread; it others, the girl furnishes her own thréad. Now, Jet any ladv examine her wrapper: take into ac- tont the length of the scams ana hems, the qoautisy of rufll.g, the number of button-holes; aud then caleulate the amonnt of work for 21 oents, snd'eho can but decido thst the woman who is siutiful enongh to meke one of those gar- ‘ments i -four hours is worthy of a better fate than to apply berself 8o steadily aud iodustri- ously ey nrhmm a day for the small sum of 43 cenfs. If she have the strength to work twelvo locg, weary hours, she can make only 63 cents ; 0d,'it ehe farnishes her own thread, not even that sma 1 amonns. Just {magine a widow with children, support- ing them and kersclf on what she can esrn at Wrapper-mak1 g.—a widow, t00, Who was_prob- ably tenderly cared for during her husbaand's lifetime, and feft Ly his death in destitute cir- sumstances, to provide for herself and children 18 best she can. With houge-rent topay, fuel to purchase, how much will she haye left for food and clorbing ? What time hes ehe i0 devote to her children ? How can gbe instruct them and leAd them 1a the paths of virtue? . All her en- ervies are needed to save them from the pangs #f bunger and cold ; in which she is not alwaye ceessful. IS IT_AXY WONDER {Lat cur prizon statistics show that the majori- 5 of § ivenile crimisals came from this gource, shere :he father is dead and the mother left des- stut -, and her love is such that she cannst part with Qer children, but kesps them with her in iis esd condition, where she can minister ae.ther to theiz pbysical nor their moral natures, 3t4 ietics ave stubborn fmcts, and they prove (b2 childien are not o liable to become crimi- a8ls whera they Jose both parents as when they ‘c8e iheir father only, 2s, in the former case, ey are usually placed io families and properly warid for. Wheo sewing-machines were first invented, Liey were considered a blessing to women, as Incee. they weie for eomo timo ; aad any ‘one who depended upon her own labor for support, and was fortunate enough toZpossess & sewing- machine, could make a comfortabls living-; but, 5 machines were multiplied, the pay for sewing decreased, and sewing-machines HAVE BECOME A CURSE instead of a blessing to women. Woman's wazes have been steadily growing oss, until a giricsn no longer earn & bvelibood by making §arments that are exposed for sale in onr mag- sificent stores, Toe water-proof cloaka that are so comforta- ble for ladies whoare obliged to be out i stormy weather are also given to women to make at the place they call homo. These garments are so ¥ell known that they need vo description,—the long, -plain cloak, and the more fanciful cape. Tite cloak is hemmed around the bottom and up tho front, while the cape aud sleeves are lined #4d bound, or scalloped, aud nive latgo button- boles are worked up the front. An espeniepced ¥urker on a sewing-machine wili make one of 1hese fa ten hoars, Tor which she receives FORTY CENTS! 4 Ten long, weary hours at 4 cents an hour! Six &ya' work, for ten bours a day, oo & sowing-ma- chine, gives §2.40! After paying 1 for the rent o & room, ouly $1.40 left for food, fuel, und clothink, and that, too, after investing $75in a machie! Lor girls, can we biame them if they become disconraged with work that pays o littls, and Y to suyili og that promites to give them 8 little more ease and comfor? than they can ob- taia by contibuous lavor on a sewing machine ? Cn we blame them it thay ars beguiled by the fatteriug promisc of easeznd luxury, to listen ths vojeo of tlie tempter, and eell tha priceless ight of womauly virtue for & mess of pot- foee, of which they stand 8o much in_need? Much of tho sdcial evil would be abolishad if %omen and giris dependant upon their own ex~ ertions could ccramand a liviug price for their work, aud earn enouph to make comfortable Lomes. Ifthe Indies who are petitioning the Legislaturo to probibit the licensing of the kocial evil wonld, in addition to teir pefition, ° GO TO WORE FRACTICALLY for tke bevefit of these poor wowen,—would buy ¢ matenals for thewr wearing appasel, tako it tothem, and pay them tho eame price for their Wirk as they pay (o their foshionnble dress- zikors andmylliners—they would do more fowards lessening the social evil than they conld eses do by pstitions, as ane cause which leads to b ation of woman would be reduced. Alady virits a large and fashionable dry-goods elore, geleols the malerial for s water-proof ‘0AE, purchines it, and, as she desires to have gmae afier the most approved fashion of the 87, lna firat-claca ectallishment, she leaves it thers to bo finished by a cerlain time, Sherave ‘EiLso for making, and wears it with the satistac- ion of knowing that it was manufactured st oue 1o finest evtablishmouts ic the city. Whilo $36 fruthi, & poor woman made it at ber home 1r the emall £um of 40 cents, sud the proprie- ot of the store put into his gsuukct the differ- coee butncoa 40 cents and S1.50; the couso- gfécce of which ia that be can ufford to enjoy e luxurics and piessures of life, either an'm" ot sinfulss guits bLis tastes, while she ento - P DESITRATION AXD DEATE. l'\'im‘vng utterly discoaraged in trying to esrn a Frof oLl e faciunig wrapprs sod wator- o cloeks, thie next trizs ladies’ suits,—hoping siloslittie better on more styluh garments. o ».thereforo, tukes to ber cheerless bome & 1y St of black alpaca or of some imilar ma- Lo ma 1818 cdt ont exactly a5 it is intended to it gy aud ebe finds. tpon examination, that Fhich e of & ekirt trimmed wii two rofiles, miz,mxfem be Lemmed oa both edzes, and & 0%, which 4 (0 betrimmed with ome fffe. Bhe works steadily i X 2 y and rapidly for two &7 elgik bours each das. “Her aching Bover baee o8 whiciing sousds, e2cépt to sllow ber to © 50me of the work, to make button-boles, | or to sew on buttons. She doos not st 000k ; she eats what she ¢an buy.ulready co?ke&.: —bher diet cousisticg princivally of tea and bread-and-butter, if baply sho cin purchase but. ter st its present price. After two days’ steady work. the eit is comploted. With tired Jimb, zching back, and 8 heavy heart, sho carries itto ber employor, and receives for her labor SEVENTY-FIVE CENTS ! If she bad not been » skillfnl worker, ske could Dot havo comploted 1t in that leagth of titne; but her gkill gives her the ndvantage over her unskilled peighbor in the amount of time it takes ber ta finich her work. Tho reader can imagine how much & woman, who has had but littla practice on 4 sewing-machine, can earn at such prices, and how long it wonld take to P&} for & sewing-machine in ‘monthly payments o; £5. and will ceswe to be surprised that womon so often Joze their machines af(er paying considers able unon them. Surely, it fs time thess Toor women had liitlo of tho benefits of a machine which}was constructed expresaly for them. The invantors baye had ample time to amess wealth, and now thofe who sre dependest upob them chould reahize a little good from them. As things are now, they are an uomitigated evil. Physicians’ verdict uron sewing-machines is, that ‘they are woman-killers; but, if the price for machine-work would afford . A COMFORTABLE LIVING, the sewing-machine wouid not be 8o winch of a woman-killer asit is now. The depressed state of tha mind, combined with the want of ordi- nary comforta of life. han more to do with short- ening life than even the constant, steady motion of the sewing-machive. Will not those ladies who bave means and loisure, and who &re now attacking the crying evils of the dav,~intem- nerance, with its twin-sister, the social-evil,— dovote a little of their time and thought to thess DoOr women, who bave notbing to brighten their cheertens existence, and can only ook to the rest of the grave for relief ? A girl or woman who ean hold on steadily throngh fong sears of such wearisome, poorly-paid laboar, avd kec{a herself _unepotied m the ‘world, could govern & kingdom, aud goveru it well ; ‘and el bas & perfect right to look for- ward to the next rtats of existence for a crown of immortal glory as the rewaid of her putient long-stiffering in this vale of feays. But it 18 rather hard to wait nutil this life is ended for any good thing ; and we would urge it upon philantbrovic ladies to pay ®ocme attention to thess poor, saffering creatures, and give them & chance to'enjoy & few of the pood things while they ore down bere below. As s matier of self- interest we would urge it, that they mav oventn- ally ehare in the brightness and glory which will moat assurediy crown the efforts’ aud sufferings of these pereccuted sewing-women. Mps. M. D. Wrxxoor, THE CONVENT AT WASHINGTON. Strictures on & Letter from 4 Gath,” To the Ed:tor of The Chieago Tridune: By I'have read with much surprise, in your issus of Feb. 22, a contribution from your Wash- ington correspondent in refereuce to a Oatholic convent in the National Metropolis, 8nd I would thank you to publisl a fow strictures on that very sensational prodaction, for the purpoae of correcting the false impressions which it was calculated to make wupon tho minds of your readers, In the fuat Dlace, it must appear strabge to honést-minded poople that jour corieepondent should have selected for the exerciso of his fanciful pen so common an event a the profession of a nun, and matters of a spiritaal and religions naturs,— thus ranuing the risk of exposing his ignorance and prejudice, a8 he must necessarily bave very liitle, if any, ncquaintance with such subjects, 1in the second ploce, one might reasonably sus- pect that he was not sctuated by the most honorable motives in assailing & famtly of most rospectable and virtuous ladies in a distaat newspaper, which might never, perhaps, come onder thelr observation. Wa' bave no wish, however, to Jjudge the aai- mus of your correspondent, or to deny that he has some imaginative power ; but we do not hesitate to pronounce him totally disquali- fied for writing on the subjoct of convents, end to agsert that, if he aspires to be & respectablo character a3 a correspondent of the press, his must acquire more information than is to be gathered from the sentimontal novel. The very first paragraph in your correspondent® article will pro.e tho truth of what we suy; for it is nothing else than an exhibition of bad grammar, unmeaning phraseology, elandero=e innuendo, and a posifive misrepresantation of facts and principles. Thage, indeed, are the main charac- teristics of his ¢ommunication., Not to awell wpon minor cousiderations, let us advert simply || to tho claim which he bas upon-the cunfidence of sour renders. £ Ho epenks of final vows in the Vigitation Con- |- vent at Waghington, while there {3 no such thing known there as final vows. He ailudes o the dramatic_situation 6f a convent under {he dome of the Capitol, while thera is nothing dra- ulta B -thb Jact, ssceph fors dreamet wio waudérs more in {he region of fancy thav in the world of realities, and who caupot’ undersland how the genius of our Amercan Republls har- monizea in every reepect with institutions tho abject of which Is tho practice of ruligious per- fection and tho education of female youth. Your correspondent tells us of a Miss Wight (or Wright), “a beaufifal girl.” who was eeot to this convent at Washington while her family were in Eurcpe. Now, this convent did oot exist at that time; and, as to the young Iady being beawiful, the wrifer of this, who knew her, hadthe impres- sion that she was tho very ap;;omo of band- rome. It isnof truc that she *'was ta'ked of for Lady Superior;” it was just the reverse. She was Dircctress of the Academy at the insti- tution in Georgetgwn; but, feating lest somo otler momber of the commumity would be ap- Dointed in bor place, ebe, in s spirit of prids, \nd in violation of her solomn vow of obedience, Ioft the house,—notin ‘a monk’s cloak” (for there were no monks within 100 miles of the place), but in tho dress of one of the echool- girls, which ste found in tho entry. Noither was ber exit an escape from the premiaes, be- csuge no coercion is ever exercised to retain within the convent those who are determined toleave it. Equally falss sre the assertiors of yoar cotrespondeut_ sbout (he deughtar of tho Emperor Iturtide, the daughter of Gei. Beott, and the daughter of Rear-Adwiral Sands. None of these ladies over entered tho convent st Washington a8 members of the communite, As to Mjes Scott, her life was prolonged by ber being in tbe institution at Goorge- town, 3s Dr. Van Bureh, phrafeisn of the establisliment, testificd. ' Gath " nsserts that the Visitation Convent is tho oldest m the Umted States, which is not correct. The Ursulines, at Now Orleans, and the Carmeltes. 1n Maryland, bad been founded many vears before. The Bis- ters of Charity at Emmetaburg had also been or- ganized before the Visitation Community. ‘Wo mention these blundering statements more particulaily to show that your correspondent 18 not very roliable as to facts, and the truth of this impulation will appear still more plainly trom ;tlo_following remarks. To misrepresent cobvontual Life, to exhibit it in an_odious light, and to surround it with so air of mystory &8 & ;bugbear to the public, seem to be the whalo Bcope of the article which yvu nave published. 18 is manifest from the languags of your correspondent: * the mystery of crypts, “theso self-incarcerated women,” and other ig- norsut plrages, which, slthough born of an empty brain, do not excuse the writer fiom the sin of dishonesty and injustice, because neither he nor any other mao lias a right to cast a pub- lio slur upon women who are models of their sex by their cxalted virtue and their devotedoess in the cause of education, withouttaking thetrouble 10 ascertsin the true character of their vocation and profeesion. Did your correspondent make this inquiry? If not, he stands convicted of libel. 3 Hie pen i= equally comspicuous in bringing into juxtsposition the Jesuit College at George- town and the civil wars in tho weetcin part of France, 88 if there had been any conncction or reiation whatever between this school of learn- | ing and the troubles of the French nation, If the sameness of date supnores ideniity of flgsiEn, why did not ** Gath " inform™ your readers that the Conetiiution of the United Stales was adopt- ed about the year 1789, and. therefore, it wae the parent of the French Revolution with all its horrors? Ob, nol ‘'‘Gath” wanted a blow at the Jesuits and the priests, and for thie teason he says: *Ths year that coliege was opened for students by Father Canoll (1791), insutiec~ tions fomented by oriests who would not take tlhe oatus prescr by tbo French AesemLly broke out iu the.west coasts of France, and aro known as the wars with the Chouans and the Vendeeans.” He calls the people who thus oj- sosed the Assembly ‘' ultra-Catholic rebels,” {Jow, 1n this sentevce, there are two egregious falsetioods. The popular movewent in LaVen- dee against the ggvammeut of the Assembly a8 not fomented by the clergy, for the clergy were tcquitted of this in the official report of the Commission appointed by ths Assembly steelf to examine info the state of things in that art of France. Were the Vendeeans rebele ? bels againat shom? A rebel is one who takes up arms_against a legitimate Government ; but the peocions oftspring, the Di was pothing DU an abominable usurpation; It was the mad- ness of tyranoy borsting over the country, for the obliteration of its most sacred b‘ldldom\‘ political and religious—or the destruction of all Tights, human and divine. It is true that the clergy would not take the oath prescribed by the French Astombly, because this oathreguired them to ize the new Constitution, by which the propertyof the Church was confiscated, the cler- Ey( iemselvesrendered mero paid creatures of tha tate, all the ecclesiastioal divisions of the conntg broken up, and intercourse with the Holy See strictly forbidden, Tbe clergy could not lavfully take such #n oath, and their refusal bronght upon them all the fury of that impions gang that bad eized the reine of power. In et of the principal cities, the elergy were hanted down and massacred in c20wds. This wasihe causo of the wars in La Vendee and Brittany against the forces of the usurping Governmenc; and the people wha took part in it for the defenes of their olergy and their religion, far from being _rebsls, were patriots of tbe purest and most exalted tgps, woriby of being named with the .Maccabees of old, who deemed it better to diein battle than to witness the de~ struction of their altars and their firesides. Bat the sectional avd cruel warfare which wag car- tied on at » ater period, after ths pacifieation of La Vendee and the accession of Napolaon to power, admirs of no justification, Much lesa are we inclined to vindicste thoss who ‘conspired sgainet the life of the First Consul by the explesion of o infernal machine. Two of the chief sctors in tkis political wickednees ro- ceived their merited punishment; while an- other, who was izaplicated in the plot,~—aD enthu- sinstio partisan of the legitimate dynasty,— was spared, to do penance, and to repsir, a8 far as possible, by Lis holy and noble deeds in after-Lfe, the crimina) folly into which he had been betiayed. All this is tully sustained by the statemients of your correspondent, if we Btrip them of their 1: se colonug, and view the facts ot the case according to their own merits. . 3. Picot de Cloriviers, a fow yeara after his Ar- rival in the United States, became an ecclesias- tical student {n the Seminary at Daitimore, and was subsequently elevated to the priesthood: From an ohi\um{ mnotice of him which nglpeued' in the National Intelligencer, of Washington (October, 1835), we extract the following : 'The most venerable Dr. Curroll, who then (1813) accupled the Archieplscopal Sce of Baltimore, whi his usual jrudence and sagacity, discerncd his merit, and commissioned bim to share the labors of the ex< tensive congregution of Churleston, in South Carolina, There he dispiayed that ardor for the glory of his Divine Master which glowed fn his Lreast, aud sowed sceds of plety which will long be cherished. ~His pious endeavors, however, were, not permitted to_fruchify without Uin most desperato opposition. In thewo try- ing times ho evinced & conrage and a patience, in tia discharge of his ministerial functions, worthy of the Loly catiso in which ho was eugaged. Archlisho Neale, was fully aware of his worth, an teudered tohim, during his short admiufstration. the most unequivocal marks of his affection and esteem, In 1619, when Charleston became an Eplacapal See, Mr. de Cloriviere returned to the Diocese of Balti- moio. Ile was affectionately received bi’du venora- ble Prelate, Dr, Maribsl, and appointed Lo the impor- tant clurge of Direcior of the Monusters of the Vis- itation, in Georgetc -m. Hero a new field was opencd to his zcal, his prucence, und his plety ; and the citi- zens of Grorgetown soun witnessed with' Josfus aston- lebment how deeyly these virtues wero rooted in hia m, A mouastery almost cieated unew ; an edifice £0 noted for its taste und elegunce, erected to the wor- ehipof thie Almighty ; an academy for the instruciion of young Iadies, established on the most extensive pial 3 a enevolcat school 10 facilitzte tho educatioa of thoso in less eusy circumstauces,—are lasting monu- menta of his zea), and wili lozg call to_the minds of the citizens of the District o remembrauce of the generous, pious, afiab.e Josept Feter Picot de Clori- wiere, Now, Mr. Editor, we appeal to your eandor and senso of justice whethera man Who was re- warkable for his tourage as a military officar, and tor his meay deeds of valor,—a man who, by his too andent attachment to a noble cause, which he consideted the cause of legitimacy, of rigut, of honot, and of patriotism, and Who Was mitled by s enthusiaem into 8 mistaken and criminal project for the restoration of the lawful sovereign of France, but who subsequently re- pouted of bis fault, and epent the remain- der of bis life in the performancs of da- ties which gained for him wuciversal re- epect, ge, mud yratiltudo,—wo ask wheth- er i man_can, with any decency or Juetice, paraded hefore the pul the “bandit-priest 2" If he erer waa a . he certainly was not 80 after his entering the eccle- =instical state, and hence the comwse epituet which your correspondent has apphied to lum is a groes calumny. He could just as well vrite a sensational siory avont St. Vaul, the Apostle, who was one of the conspirators azainst the nascent Church of Chuist, and who held the gar- ments of the murderers who stoned to death the first Deacon of the Church, 5t. Stephen. Bat Paal was » very different man after his conver- sion to Christianity ; and. if it would be impiety tocall him the * aguawein-A ™ it is aisompi- ous to desiguate Clonviers as’ ‘s baudit- riest.” 1f “Gath ™ cannot upderstand this argument, which tells o forcibly against his senze of jus- tice, perhaps he will see more clez:ly the men- daclty of the following elezant portion of his articlo. Speaking of Father Cloriviere at a time when Lis was_exerting lumself for the good of religion and-the causs of education, he says: ““In 1824 he excited the country, and revived the bloody episode of his early bfc, by proclaiming & miracle at the convent. This miracle was as mysterious 88 the plot in the Rue K2, Nicaize, twenty-four years previonsly.” fvhers was the mjstory shout this event ? One of the Sisters in the convent, after a mine daye’ prayer, in union with that of Prince Hoheniohe was #nslantaneously cured of a serions iliness under which she had been laboring for years. The momaut after receiving the holy communion at the bands of Father Cloriviere, sho felt. thas tha discase had loft her, and at once joined her com- panions in the exercizos and_duties of the com- muoity. Here was a eimple fact which any one could verify, or at least investigate, by testimony. There was nothing mysterious in this for those who know that Gqd eometimes works mirncles in bebalf of hia fmthfal servanis; but *‘Gath” probably belongs to that scientific echool that sueers at everythiog supematural, will not permit the Almighty to dispense at times with the Jaws which He Himself made, any who would deny the iracles of Christ Himself if He were now on eart) in human form. But, Mr. Editor, it cannot be said of yourcorrespond- ent's aesertion that there is nomystery ia it; for, tell it not m Gath! what humau intelligence can comprehend how s pious belief in the wonderfal exercise of Divine goodness could be the revival of 2 bloody project or abloody scene? The only solution of this question, go far ns we can per- ceive, is, that the evil spirit which haunts your correspondent, and urges him to Dblacken the & character of individuals, and cast odiom upon Catholic iostitutions, possesses him to much a degreo a3 to belray him into the grossest errors and inconsisien- cles.* His aliusions to John Hurratt nad his unfortunate mother, while they prove what wo say, are bengazh nolice. fu conclusion, Mr. Editor, if our remarks do not suggest to your correspondent a more hon- orable courss, and the proprioty of observing the 0ld proverv, .ve sulor ullra crepidam, wecau only advise him, in the words of abothor old axfom, Naviget Anlicyram. VINDEX. ‘Wasmiscrox, March 13, 1874, * 1 Gath ¥ very fenorantly alludes to the cure of Mrs, Mattiugiy, in Washington, as an alieved miracle, Whoever reads the evidence of the fact, 53 detafled by the Iate Bishop Englond (volume 3 of his works), must eitber admit the miraculous character of that fact, or, deny thut there ever was such a thing 28 s miracle, —_—— THE MOURNFUL BALLAD OF SAD WILLIASA. 50 William was a man of mark; For miles and miles aronnd Each worthy dog at aim did bark § Ho ne’er wos sober found. Though dark, his brow was hiung with gloom; Deep wisdom Lt s eyes ; A xind of rogal purple Licom Did on his fuce arise, Hia voice was thick witk wisdorn's speech, And from bis lirs did roit Zong cautions loud, dest youth bo teack, To shun the Hufil bow And 88 he spake his tears world flow, 1e'd mournfal: t)p lhnd‘!jlhl:!x& “Then, sheking sad Lus bozd, he'd go 'kod tako anoiLer drink. ’ Some tender frieoda of this 5ad mss, By CLr.stian love inclined, Did 'moug themselves 3 story plan To work upon his mind. With awful looks they oid in fright That oe who drank like sia, And, like him, went lo bed each night Exbuling clowds of giv, Had sought to blow the candle out, * When 10 | his breath took fire, And straight he died and left ho doubt That driuk had it bls pyre. 4 Oh, Willism, thigk of this dread fate,” To him theee friends did eay, # And stop before it 1s too late ; Oh, Whliam, do, we pray ! " Then William sat him down to mourn. They left him in his fear; Azd, in the merrow's early dawn, Baid be, 04 they drew near, # Tive ti:ought, with meng tears and troe, of al you il lost mgh{‘, o And now I, rolemn, promize 3 noter low caalight! Governmens of the Assembly, and of its | —New York World, AUSTIN CHASUBLE'S LOVE CHANCE. ) # One ehould try and be contented, Mra, Bose- 1y. Wo are all given what is needful 7or us, you know.” 480 we be, 8ir, 80 'We be; but tha draught do ‘tome in at that *ére door dresdful, it do. I feels It across my lines like the Btroke of a stick, no less.” Well, you must spesk to your landlord ; and, if he won't do anything, bapatient. . Patience is, ete,, ete."” Thus X, curate of Bt. Btephen's-in-the West, to Mre. Bosely, ex-laundress and present out-door pauper, in No. 8 Jinke alley, sitting on one of Mra, Bosaly's bot- tomless cans chairs, and UTTERING WEAR PLATITUDES by way of soothiog Mrs. Boeely’s complaints. Do not eneer, my reader. I8 it not the special provines of a curate (o uiter the said mildly woral sentences, and sit on bottomless chaits, for a given period out of every twenty-four houra? *Sileros tho .complaint by relieving the want!" Aly friend, every old wamaa in the ish has a draughty door with which she would not part for the diamond mines of Goluonds. Were I to give Mrs. Boeely a shilling, ard bid her have ber door mended. she would spand it in souff and go on compiaming. Wern I to send a man to do it<I don’t know, but I think eho would resist actively, and, if overcome, would possibly take cold aud dic. And, meanwhile, Mrs. Smith, sod 3Mre. Jones, a0d Alrs. Black bave cach their diaughty door, For all thesereasons I quiotly balanced myself on my purgatorfaf chair, and eaid that which wea expected from me. Dim. Botely'a room was about 6 feet Bquare, and smaelt strongly of her- riug and cabbege: result, probably, of Mis. Bosely's dinner. The window—two panes of 800ty luss—was shut avd woedgred, my hostesa OBIECTING 'ON PRINCIPLE TO FRESH AIR, I had had po dinnsr, no lanch even, baving been “visitmg ™ since breakfast. My feet were in a 0ol of water, which had oozed in from under §(,.._ Bosely’s door. Something nearly allied— unless my shrinkiog senses deceived me—to tho Norfolk Howard family, was leisutely patrol- ing the back of myueck. 'The preserved per- tumes of dinnet and Jinks alloy made me feel sickish; but it way Mrs. Bosely’s day for ten minates’ clerical comfort, and ton minutes ehe must accordingly have. * And my rheumatice, sir,” pursued the dame plaintivoly, *they be that dreadful I can’t Ehirle"em. They crockles one ali up like, they ocs."” “Your ehmye cf this world’s nfflictions, Mre. Bosely,” uaid L settling my Roman collat—for the tea minntes wero naarly up. ** Kieumatism {8 a vory painful thing, but ome ougat to count ita gfinlega to bear the crosses which—-"" I had got thus far when £ was intorrupted by a sharp knock at the door. * There's thie taxcs, drat ‘em!” cried Mrs, Bosely, forgetting her pasiai's presence in natu- ral imitability. Come in. do.” And accordingly there cans but 1—not the taxes, A BEATTIFUL. i about 19; a girl with big, bluc. :hent eyes ; with a sweot, flashed face, o od, and aimpled like B baby's ; witi patied dewy lips, nnd great masses of glossy brouzed mioits otled away under the sweeping plume of her broad fcit hat ; a girl to tako avay your breath, and make you curse the mud on your boots and the ‘miering button on your ecclesiastical walstcont. “ Lord ha' morey | " quoth irs. Bocely, * 1£'t isn't my young Indy. An’ uw e you, my dear?” * All'right, thauks,” enid Mra. Bosely's young Iady in a cheerful, rather loud voice—ns, without glancing at me, she shook the dsme’s stiff, wiinkled fingers in her small, lavender-kidded hand. *‘ How is the rheumatism " *‘Morta! bad, mise, mortal bad!” raplied Mrs. Bosely, delighted to begin all over again o 5 new auditor. 1 can’t abear 'em, au' that's thetruth Ttell yon, They does crockls one up like,” “ Ah, that’s jost what they were doing the last time I saw you, grannie,” snid tho young lady, coolly; *‘andss they are no better, and that *erockling ' propepsity must be very uppleasant, T'll tell yon what I'll do. Have youever heardof A TURKISH DATH 2" “ A what, mies :" nsked irs. Bosely, to whom the word * bath " sounded very much ag it might to one of those hydrophobic hounds with whom Mr. Graatley Buikely used to boreus 8o much & littie while ago in tuo Tines. s “A Turkish bath,” repeated the girl, with cheerful distinctness, while I sst in silenco~and did nol Iavgh, - biy uncle is older than you are, aznd has just bad several, which bsve done bim 10 end of good. You'rs put into hot water firat, I think, and then cold is soused—" “Water, m'm!" gasped Mrs. Bovely, almost speechless with nataral disgust. *Water, of course,” replied her visitor.' “What else? And then you'ro rubbed, and beaten, and you're joinls are cracked, and—I den't qoite know what else; but ‘you come out beantiful I” 5 Mrs, Bogely groaned faintly. “1 should come out dead,” she eald solemrly ; it "onld K KILL ME OX THE 8POT.” # It would cure you,” retorted the young lsdy. “ You say the rheumatism is killing you now ; £0 you mnst waat to be cured, and I'il just bring 8 cab—" * Look'er bere, mies," snid Mrs. Bosely coay- ingly—she evidently had reasons for not offend- ing her visitur by too abmpb & refusal—* that “ero—cure 'ould cost mints." ** It costs something, of course,” remarked the girl ; ““ but I shall pay that ; and—" 3riss Julit1 ™ ciied Mrs. Bosoly, almost driven to desperation, ** Icouldn’t lot you, It ‘ould be wrong. There, now! We must all ha patiencs. you know, miss, in this valo ‘o tears; and, a8 my clergyman was just asayin’ tome, one *ad onght: o count it & privilegs to carry tho oroBEbs a8 is sent na.” i Ob, nonsenso!"” interrupted the pirl, eurtly. “ It's all very well to carry crosses if yon can't get'sny one to carty them for you; butif you can, drop them aad be thankrul.” . “Ar’ thon, mirs, I do think as the rhoumatics ig betterin' a littie—I do, indeed, miss. They ain’t 8o fixed ke in the bones; an' I aon't be- liove as 1'd "ave "em at all of "tweren't for THAT DRATTED DOOR, a8 the draught do cut me'in 'alf, it do.” **Why, Mis. Bosely, I sent some ons to mend that door.” “Ahl an’ indeed 'twas very good o you, miss, A boy, he did comé;. but he made guch a fawin'an’ clatterin’ ronnd, I knowed 88 he couldn’t do nothink; an’, uot to deceive Fin“ m'm, I'm that shaky I can't sbear wor- ritin'." “Why, you troublesome old thing,” eried the irl, merrily, ©ho would have done it'all right. et me look at it. And then rho turned round, and espied mein. my dack coroer by the door. ““Why, wbo's tbis, Mrs. Boselv 7* she_acked guickly. *Your widowed gre:iddanghior? How lo you do, mv girl > and why dou't you come and tako care of your poor old—- Tlus was (oo much. I had already been shocked fo the soul by thia girl'w'levity; but to be taken for an ill-conditioned young woman ! Anatheia- tizing from the bottom of my Leart my classical- 1y hairless face and ngialy lengthy coat, I rose up, while Mra, Basely axclaimed : - Why, lor bless you, dear! that bo MP. JAZIBLE, MY MINISTER." “IhopeIamuot 1o your wav,” 1said tiffiy, secing ehe had the grace to blush, but relent~ ing \:ecmfin the blush made her so wondexfully pretty. p “I'beg vour patdon, Mr.~—Jezebel. I—" ** Chasuble,” 1 corrected, rather warmly. “Mr. Chasuble,” I reaily beg vour pardon ; byt that corner is 80 dark, I could vot sea you g:n erly. Perbaps yon can tell me what is to one for Mra. Bosely's door.” Het manner was delicionsly frank. I sug- geatid thab something" be nailed against tho crack— * The very thinz!™ she eaid, promptly. “A capital ides. Oneof those red flannel PAIESES thinge that men carry round in the snow. Noa, Ars. Hosely, whers can I get ano ? *¢ 0B, don't "ee tronblo, miss,” replied that in- dividual, very uncomfortably. ' 1t don'tmat- ter, the door'don't. One gets uscd to 'emn, some- hows; and—" “*Bbe likes it!" exclaimed the girl, indignant- lv. ‘“Bhelikes s draught. Mrs. Bosely, how can you? and al your age, foo! Why, how old ate you?" *eSixty-eight, or scm'ereabouts,” Mrs. Bosely mumbled, ¢ Now don't 'es worrit, Miss Julit, dear. There aintno doin’ nothink with that door nobow, there aing.™ “Bixty-eight!” repeated Juliet (what 2 pretty pame 1t was), “and yom don't know how to stop a draught yet! Al Bogel);. I'm ashamed of yon. d now I think of it, I'eaw some of those red eausage thinga in & little ehop at the corner. Mr. Chasuble, would it trouble you to BUY SOME FOR ME ? I would go myaelt, but I nee it is drizzling, and rain takes all the curl ouc of my feather.” She exiended a little velvet purse 2s ehe spoke ; and of course Ihad to takeit. It was h"d‘i cooeistent with thé digvity of a priest of the Church to be running errands for_ strange young ladies; but, when fimsa young ladies wear white ostrich plumes, liable to be unearled by rain, droopiog over their ehining braids, and when they issus their commandzin a sweetly royal tone, sod emile on you £0 as to show w0 little, rosy dimples at the cormers of their mouths, he would be Téfuse to encrifice his dignity to therr plyasare. T did not refuse. bought some of the *red suussge things” ¢, she lictle shop. Had I not been semor curate, would have carried them off like a coil of gizan. S: b;zodimrms oveghmy “m;l As it was, I'mado ¢ shoploy carry them, and accompanied him ‘back to Mre. Bosely's. Idon’t know that thers ‘Waa any hecessity for me toreturn there—extept to return ths pures;: I forgot that. Of couree I wan boand to return the purss to ita owner. ‘‘ Have you got them? Thanks. Well, you baven't -been loag"™ (very condescendingly) 3 ‘and now we bad_better nail them up at once, 1 found some nails in Mrs. Bosely's cupboard, Oh, fancy her keeping her butterin s -biacking. pot!—and here's a flat-iron for & hammer. I think you bad better GET UP ON THE CIAIR and do the top part. @ e280 with which this young lady delivéred her commands was superb. ~ I demurred Teebly. I am'afraid it will bardly hold ‘my" weight, Miss—Mias—, ‘Perhapa &u bay——~>" But the boy had put his burden down and is- appeared. ., “Try," sald the girl, with monosyllabio seves- And I tried. What else conld Y do? The ctazy article creaked ternbly, and then gaves por- tentous &na 2 Mrs. Bosely proanad. “You had belter get down agzain,” ob. served my tyrant, calmly. I did not k‘nnw Jou were so leavy. Never mind. T'll do it, snd you can hold thé chair, aud givemo the naile.” Sho sprang up s sha - spoke. a geatle creak this time. Antnony; bnt bow shat -my éyes now when I bad to band her the pails? Suth a pretty little, plump hand, too, as took them! It wentto my beart to sce how often thefiat-iron came down on the soft, taper fingers, instead of the refraciory osil. Mrs. Bosely gronued at intervals. She ¥us evidently in” the depths of depreesion. Three uncomted male heads blocked ap the sooty little window without. Audible tommenta on ‘‘whatover parson wor up to with that 'ere swell girl ™ floated on the air, I felt hot, BED IN THE FACE— not bappy, by any means; and yo: I was almost sorry when the task was dore, and step- ping down froma her perch 'as fighu{ 85 8 BpAr- row, ehe beganto draw on her gioves withea triumphant— 4 Doesn't your door look besntiful, Mrs, Bose- Iy? h,"ow‘ don’t you ever complain of a draught . Thors was only 1 thought of Bt. *No, miss, that [ never won't,” ‘said Mrs. Bozely, with prompt fervor. ‘*And if your rheumatism keeps bad, tell me, and we'll try the Turkian baths," *Don't ‘ee talk on't, milss. "Taint nothing to speak on, it aint.” : : “Allright. Good-by, then, or Inhall be tso Inte :for our ‘At home.’ Good afternoon, Mr. Chesuble. Much obliged for your holp.” And ro with & shake of the crone’s gnud, and & emuling nod to me, she was gone. How dark the room looked ! “* Ladies never think as they’re a keopin’ us waitiu” for our teas,” grumbled irs. Bogoly, - gratefully ; and sceing her rise and begin to fumble with a big, biack kettle, I took the hint and departed likewire. I also wanted my tes, or rather my dinner ; and yet I was not 80 hungry as I bad been aabilo agu.” Out of the puddles of Jinks alley, throngh the smattiness of Silver street, past the suniit bustie of Notting Hull, down a modest row of shops, terminating 1n some equally modest lodg- ing-hiouse, " giving " (sa the Tfeach way) on & large dauy, & cab stand, a dissenting chapel, and amume shop ; and =0 into my own abode, tha first of the row of furnished apartments, It had never occurred tu me befors ; but HOW LONELY THEY LOORED ! Jaue, the ludging-houss slavey,~a yotng darm- sel of plump form and smut embellished face, clad in = dirty cotton froek, fastencd with huge brass pins as the back, which pins hnd trick- of giving way and bursting but at the smallest provocation, and in » manner which was posi~ uvely alarming when dne regarded tha ampli- tade of ber proporiions; with s huge chignon, composed of dusty black wool, ‘over which occae sional streaks of greasy light heir meoudercl capriciously, gud ornamented by a fapping uynl of ragged crochet always on one side,— brought me my dinner—i. e, a lurge fat chop, blask without, crimson within, apd swimming fn s poud of oil and ciaders, three humid potatoes, decorated with many black spots, and & ségment of cold rice pud- ing with the murk of fier thumb fn one side —and &pread it on the lits syuare table heforo the fire. Anglican Riergymen are not given to pampeting the flesh; but it did not look invit- iug. Somehow I caughl myselt fancying the demsel of the white feather and sealskin jacset H seated oppueite me, and . BEUDDERED AT THE IDEA of offering her a haif of tho gory chop! How would those rose-tipped litclo fiugers like to use these dull, blackish-handled knives ? Were they smarting from the fiat-icon now ? I wondered. This was too mach. Did St. Anthony st and dream of hin temptress after she was gone? With a violont effort I rose, rang the bell, sud resolving to barish mine with the dinner things, took up the Times and tried—very unsnccess. fully—to bury mysell in the report of a recent Church Congress. I went to eee Mr. Bosoly sgainin & few days —~—a very fow days ; bus it is the duty of a curate to ook afser bus flock ; and_why_neglect this venerablo Bhees? She was alone this time, and, though I slayed three-quarters of an hour, no one elae entered ; and as Mrs, Bosely appearea in low epinits, I tried to cheer her by alluding to that cheerful youag person, Miss Julit. “ My young lady,” firolucd Mrs. Bosely. “ Ah!'sto be a ternble Lively one, ben't she, Bir 2 ** Very lively and amiable,” I replied cautions- ly. *You have no draught from your door now 2" ‘‘Ne'er & bit, sir. Wasn't that like her mow? It be most too stived &' pro- sent; aud I might ha' [ris here all theso years and pe'er a one o' my visitin' gentry— savin' your presence, sir, s of course I don't mean you—would ha’ thought o' dow’ nothink to keep the cold out. Not they [" Thia was ubgenetous ; also, considering the extreme ill-will with which Mrs. Bosely had sub- mitted to her vistor's aiterations, it was incon- sictent. I smothered my feelings, however, and merely observed, with mild severity : “Well, I trust you will feel properly grateful for the kindnesa of Miss Juliet—a WHAT 1S HER NAME 2" YWhich, indeed I don't know, eir, as it's & tLinig I never can remember, i8 names; not as Icould sver &ay hern, though she telled it me twice ; and I kuows as it had a devil—if you'll excuse it, eir—at the ead on'c.” “ A devill" Irepeated, starting. t ig, inst what I said, an’ with the “scif-énms laok a you has oa you now.” I felt flattered. ** Misg Julis, Bays I, ‘that bon't your name, xn‘rol 2 T _— *¢Yes, pranuie, it is,’ says she; *and if you want {0 rewember it, just you think of tke ‘old gentleman.’ *¢! But no, m'm,? eays I, ‘the Lord preserve me from thinking ou nny sich persou a8 is a- Roin’ about here a roarin’ Lion seekin’ whom be wight devour. * An',' says I, *if you'll excuse me, miss, I'll call you by your christenen’ name inslesd,’ ‘which I allers do, ewr, reglar. God bless or." I too made up my mind to call her Juliet; for bow could I—aven taking St. Anthony into uestion—aseociate those laughing lips and rosy cheelts with the Prince of Darkness ? Tt was not long betore I aaw her again. In fact, our visiting routes appeared to coincide, for we were continually meeting, now in ono house and now in another, and I cannot say thal I waa always edified by the words which fell from my fair acquaintance’s lips on these occa- sions. 8he bad a way of RIDING ROUGRENOD over anything which bad the slightest approach to what ebe called “‘cant, " aad which was gon- erally the pioas sentences of resignation which many of the parishioners Wwere a. trouble to bring forth for my approval. Bhe once spoke of Job_as a “person of most uhfortunate dirty babits;” tnd hoped that an old crossing- sweeper, with whom wé were both ac- ouaicted, and who had Mré. Bosely's objection to baths, hota Turkish and otherwise, would not end by gettiog into the patriarch's conaition. Sae 1ead the Bible in 28 lively a tove as if it !Ten;]u Fo\'cl, and spoke of St. John'a Epistlea as *folly! ™ *- Once I felt ‘obliged to remonstrate with her, took the book into my own bands, and put it away. Shdstared at me witn a lovely rising blush, and as we went down-stairs said : “3fr. Chasuble, did I offend you to-day? * “Offeud me? No." “Then why—" +1 am afraid of your offending these peopla's principles by such expressions, Plezae don't be offendsd,"—and indeed I was coloring vivlently, —‘‘but remomber, theydv not know what yhu meaa ss wellas I do. Yon wonla not ninnjv:n: beeilless tongue to harm other people’s sonls, 1 am sure.” *Of conrse not; but——. Who would mind what I eay 2" 5 1 ¢ “ Everybody who Knows and likes you a8 I, — 28 you deserve to be Iiked.” en I got out. {uto the streat I felt hot and breathless, What had 1 been on the point of saying ? Notbing..very dreddful ; and yet I wha thankful from the bottom of my heart that Ihsd bardly “himan who *could ] I went out meekly, n?d Ty fl??;d ‘myself before eaying it, and betraying— whal Defore I went 10 bed that nighi I was ] in love.—in love with Bn ‘irreverent little girl, with blue eyes and a dimpled cheek ; and after this I became very unhappy. Iloved.and yot I quarreled with my love, rebuked: it, turned away frotm it ; and then, like & weak, inconsist- ent fool, took it in my arms aod Tugged ik, *Of courss this Jatter proveeding was ulter madnens ; Tor what bad I, Austin Cbasuble, in common with this wiliful, impetuous, rickly-robed dam- 8el? 1did notevenknow her name, rank, or anything but that her manners were those of a Iady, her drets that of one reared in_the Isp of luxury; and I &id know, on'y too well, that I re- ‘eived 2 bare hundred s year ha curate of St. Stephen's, and an additional fifty from my mother, the widow of the Iata Very Rev. Dean of Bibchester, and still living with my sisters in & cosy house within the Catbedral olose of that town. Now, stretch a hondred and fifty ponnds 88 far a5 you mav, I defy you te make 1t keep one pereou in luxury, let alope two. It might keep two, with painful economy, in some remote country parts ; but in London ! What coutd I do ? The gir] had faurly bewitched ma; yet, like & madman, instead of avoidiog her Beciety, 1 SOUGRT IT. I found ont the days suo vivited the ‘poor, &ad not only devoted those to the rame corrand, but almost every.other aa well, leut I might by ‘scci- dent niiss one chance of seemg her. Suroingle, the junior curate, said I left him nothirg to do outside the church. He was perfecly ooiroct in bis statement. ‘Would I not havy walked myself to death rather than let him idour the davger of meeting my bonny Juliet in the West End slums? By degrees [ grow thin and haggard, betwsen com- bating with my love passion and trring to devite 1neens for eatisfying 1t—8a haggard, indeed, thst tometimes the bright eves would look at me compaasionatoly, and she would say : * Mr. Choxuble, you look awrally ill. I don't believe you give yourself haif enough food or rest. Yon ought to layup, and Lave somo one to look after you.” Ah! how gladly would T have laid up if T had bad her to lock after me; to look in onve a week oreo, as shedid on Mrs. Grida, aad ‘ask me ggw-i did, with that frauk, inspiring smile of ra. Anotber time she hurt me cruelly by saying, s 1 was oponing hor umbrella for hers - i * One lkinlg_l like so much in you Ritualistic clergymen, Mr. Chasuble, 13 YOUR NOT MARBYING, It raskes yon 50 much more usefal among the poor. You couldn'’t give a1 your timé to them, sa sou do, if you hnd an exigeante wifo at home ; and I h‘“.fi! thought 1t one of the great advan~ tages the Roman clergy possessed over ours.” It was like a knife through my he-rt that sho could gay this, and ba glad of it; and with difS- calty I commanded meself cnough to repl; . ** Celibacy, certsinly, Las ita rocommendations in some caees; but you must remomber, Miss Juliet, it 15 wholly voluntary with us, not en- forced, as witn thic Roman pricsthood. “Then it is all the more right nod sensible of vou,” ehe answored warmly; and, shaking my haod, departed. That mght I felt dex&efiuly unhappy. It was pecectly truo that hitherto 1 hed regarded celibicy as my particular vocation ; had oktolled the benefits, mundane and spivitual, of that btate ; and enlarged, both at home and abroad, oo the drawbacks snd general inforiority of & married clorgy. Indeed, if I evor condescendod 10 admit auy dreams in"which woman took a part, bhe always appesred as » pale, spititual creatura, with lofty brow, decp wioiet €yes, and palely- golden hair Landed . Madobna~wise on either side of her transpacent templos—some ‘* 1ato, pale Margaret,” or leavenly-minded da, whose heart, being nlready inclosed witbin the sacred atmosphera of the Church, might matke &' wotthy heipmate to ooe of the pastors of that establishment. Buch was my ideal—an ideal oo which I had more than onca expounded, in eloguent gravity to my ndmlri\gficmulhnr and sisters in the Cathedral close at _Bibeheater, and to \hich I hadin my college days inscribed varions sounets of varsing excellenco—sonneis m_which the heroins's slight, pale fingers, inspired glance, and lils-like complexion appeaed on every page. And now Beliold me ! V{allen, fallea, fallen from my high estate,” nd buugering mighily for a 5 XERY FLESH-AND-BLOOD DAMSEL with saucy oyes and ripe lips—a damsel withont a trace of either heavenliness, ifl-heaith, or in- spitation abous her—sa girl of the period, who at Greeuwich,” told her poor gmm:us that sho looked pale of course becausa she hed beeadanc- inytill morning at *such a jolly ball.” and iu- sisted, with honest deprecation of a higher mo- tive, that she only wisited the poor pecause it “faa.” i ne gets so awfally tired of rich, ‘haw- baw,' slecky, proper people, you know, Mr. Cinsuble. They do get frightfuily slow after a sime; snd so I come down smong the slums now aod then for a fillip, just as gourmands taks a pill or & glassof bitters before dinner.” 1 remountrated wi agaivst this. Fainin- deed, would I bave made myeolf consistent by makiog an angel out of her, but she st down ber foot, and would not have it at any price ; 8o u8 I might notlove a saint, I e'en Jay down in the dust and worshiped a’ einner. Ay, good heavons! how I worshiped her! and I DID ROT EVEN RNOW HER NAME{ One day I betrayed myself. Sbo had mentioued on_one occasion that she always went to see Mis, Bosely on a Friday. I went to see Dirs. Bosely on a Friday also. Fast- ing days ero, I cousider. pecalimily adapted to works of charity: and secordingly we encoun- tered each other oue afterncon at the entrance of Jinks’ alloy, just as it was coming on to rain. “ Barely in time for shelter,” she £aid, without stopping? and I only lifted my hat swilingly in return, and burried on to got the dame's door open. ' Shacame scudling in after me, laughing and shaking the randrops off her skirts ; sod [ bad taken the umbrells frum her befors either of us noticell thet the room was empty save of ourselves. hirs. Bosely bad goue out; and as our befiled eyes met each other in their return from the vain eearch, there musthave been something ludicrons in the siuation, for we Loth leughed. *¢ It scems we have comoe on the same errand,” 1 said, coloring consciousiy. *It seems we are ALWAYS COSIING ON THE BAME ERRAND,” she retorted. - ““I was just tunkiog to-day that Inever come to see my old people wishout” find g you, too, Mr. Chasuble; but I hardly calea~ lated on finding oniy you.” **You forget they ate my peoplo kleo,” I said, vexed with myself for reddening still more uu. der her words,—*if not tore 80 than yours, 1t is my besiness to look after them. * Your businces and my pleasure. Well, both combined bring u8 together pret:y often.” . * Not 80 often as to be unpleasant to yow, T hope,” I ssid—1s anxiously, poor fool, as if my lite hung oo the anawer. * Certalnly not. Mr. Chasuble—I rather Jike it, though you do scold me about Job, aud trample on a1l my little pet weakresses,” * Not very hardly, U think, Miss Juliet—T hope not, at least.” . *1 don't kuow,” she snsweref. giving her head a little willful shake aa she stood,drying the soles of her boots at the small fire. ™*¢ How- ever, 1 am resigning mvself to betug tramplet on $0-day, for I must wait till the rain is over, and [ want to wais till Mrs, Bosely comes in. I shouldn't like to go away without bidding tho ridicalous old tuing GooD-BY." * Good-bv 1 ™ T repeated vaguely. Bome of the rain mast have run down my back just then—such a cold shiverrap through me. ‘*You are nor—surely you are not going away!" Bhe looked up, Ler blde eyes wido with sur- prise. My tone must have sounded of the des- pair I felt. ‘“Indeed I am. Don'’t think I'm tired of my ragged friends ; bat I leave London next week, and I shall be tco busy to come down to them again ; 80 you Wwill have them all to yourself in the future.” I felt I was growing white as death. 1 could ot spesk or look at ber. * Iam afrsid you sre rather glad,” she said, brughing the dried mud stain off her boot with one of Mrs. Bozely's dusters. “*Bat I haven't cotrupted your flock very much. I tlink Ieay WorRa tuings when you are here than when I'm alone.” Stul no answer. The words WOULD KOT COME. “1 know I did eay, ‘The nearer the church the further from God,' when Mrs. Gridlan sald 50 long a8 she could hear St. Steplien's bells and £ea you she wouldn't repine a¢ goiug to church,” the girl went on with a sort of mirthfn! peni- tence, “and I burst ont Iaughing when that fat old Mrs. Ball told me she felt likea ‘sparreron a ‘oueetop.’ Dut it is so difficult not to laugh, jen'tit? And bow does a sparrow on s house- top feel 2™ Soms onp felt lonelier than thas any sparrow on & housetop just then, and fouud 1t rather difficult not to burst out crylug into the bargain. “You will have to forgive me, mow I am Roing,” she said, drying the other gols witu grest care. '‘Ifeel quite rorry you are Dot goiug sway somewhere, tov. You must want ahoifday.” 3 A holiday when my work was connected with l B e yon goiog for Tong, Misa Juliet 7 T ask- | ed rather hoarsely. 7 On, T am going Tor good. At Toast T aim fiot coming back to live in London agaiz.” : talked enjovingly of ‘‘delicious whitebait ranches, !*Notatall: Oh! Juliet, SHALL I NEVER SEE YOU AQAIN 2" .m;l'll:uw:mds broke from me without - any will of 1t was vain attempting to restrain them ; and only when they were spoken I knew by the rush of color to her fuce what I had done. * Forgive me, do forgive me!" I stammered Brokenly: - “ I never mesnt—but it-seomed so is:xddlux 3‘0 lose you altogether—I cannot bear ‘¢ Nr. Chaguble,” she interrpted, bloshing very much, but speakiug in a kiad, womanls tone, ™ surels ¥ou aro not going to say anyching {oolish. If you are, pray etop. BT *1s it foolist to love youz" 1 exclaimed, los- g my head alogether. And then 1m the same momunt it yoshed over me how utterly feolish,—nay, intane—such love was ; and I eat down by the rickety littte tasle, and, buryiog my face 'in my hands, groaned aloud at Wy owD madness. She came close to me, and said in her coaxing, Ppleasant voice: ‘*Mr. Chasuble, pray dou't. OI coursa I for- give yon, You Aid not mean anviling. Yoaars little over-tired, that's all. Pray dou't taxe it to heart.”" Nothing could bs more generons, more kindly, Jadylike ; but I would not take the indulgence. Every tone of her liquid voice fanned my pas- sion; and " T DURST OUT AGAIN, not locking at her. '] did weaa it. I domean it. I love you, foolishly if you will, bue with all my heart. Hosw could you not seo it? Why. it has been keavea to be near yon though I knew I conld never win you—a poor turate, without even ancugh tokeep hlms{ell.l Azd you ro raér. so—" I chroked. uf was fairly crvig like a baby, with my face sti bidden. 4T knowy T ought hot ¢a il son. 1 nover meant to, It was enough to see you How xnd then; bat if vou go—-" “*Poor fellow ! she raid, as pitifally as it 1 had beon Mra, Ball's rheumatio grandrorz, and lay- ing her little gloved bands on my bowed head. *I'm sc sorry, I bover guesed it, indeed. Of course it was very foolish; and how you could— but yon'l so0n gni over it.” Her well-meant consolation oniv atabbed mo more keenly. 'The rain fell ina conatant ™ apit, spit,” down the chimnev on to the hot coals. A& mangy ben gauntored inte the room and com. menced pecking nt my boot heels. The wer from our two umbrellas tricklod togetherina little pool o the muddy floor. . *+I would give my life to win you,” T sobbed out, ashamed to lift my head; and T caanot, I ceanot.” ¥ * 50, YOU cAN'T,” rho enid firmly. Then, after s moment, in which I did not spesk, I thinkI had bettor go away.”” ‘ Another silerice ; then in a softer tone : * Don't cry. Pleaso, please don't. I'm not worth it a bit, and%'m 80 sosty [ Oh! ¥ou poor bov! I wish you wonlds's—Iam so very. .very sorry I i The cosxinz fingers plide; from my head to the baods which covered my face. I felv tleir Kindly clasp for a second 3 taen & light, gentle touch, hike the bruch of a ross-1oaf on my fore- head, and- she wan gone ! Betore I couid reach the door she was almost at the entrance of the alley, and [ knew I had lost her—lost her forever. I went home {bat day feeliog Iike a ‘man who bad passed through hesven and lost it for ever,” Only the touch on my forehiesd re- meined to save mo from viter mivery. If I had had Hne grain of common sease, I mizht Lave known that it was the seal of my condemnation, the surest sign that shedid not and coula notlove me as I loyed her, forone siugle mameat; but 1 WAS 3D ~-mad asonly 8 man who loves vainly can be. A telograma wag Iying on my lodging-housa table. Idid poteven notice it till evening~—I was too wretched ; but when the girl came in to lay tho cloth =he point=d it to me, and I tore 1t open. It was from my mother, summomng me to Bibchester on important busivess. Uf course T hueried off by the first train on the foliowing day; and on my amival was informod thst the_Rector of Fadeycombe—a pretty, rural villige. about thres miles from Bibchester—waa just dead; and my mother had prevailed with the patron, an old admirer of ber own, to offer me tho living. An income of six hundred a year mine io one ay. Of coursn I hed to stsy eomo daye in Bib- chester to settle matters. Nearly ten indsod had elapsed ‘before I returned to town to bid adiea to Juliet. = Yes, came what might, I had resolved to find her, and tmplore her to try and TOVE ME BUFPICIENTLY to give up her gay London life and share my own comfurtable, if qulet, hems among the green and snuny Kontish hop-fields. Nataraily, with this view, I Sent first to Mrs. Bosely. “An’ von ' be a-goin' away, too, sir!" cried the dsme, whan I told her ths mows. “*Well, I rover! Seems like as I'll be loft all alone; an’ y rheumatica that bsd my legs is swollen right np, av’ the prespiration ruos off e in streams, it do. Yes, sir, I had to taxa the thinga off the door, they did make iz 80 dratted ‘eavy, a0’ Bta® the mr op 8o; aad now Miss Jalit's zone,—God bless her,~she won't take no offense,” “Then she i3 gone ?" 1 asked, balf expecting it, and makiog ap my mind to follow her. “ Gone ! eh. yes, sir, all ths way to Italy, SRE AND HER HUSDAN' 3 though whateamderer thoy waats in that Popish place I can't imsgine for tho life o' me. Ah! she was » darling, she wera! Jnst ’eq look at tho picce o' cake she sent me. Ait it & big lump? An’ there's ber lel- ter, which there's summat sbout you in it for sure.” Touly glanced & the wedge of lced and Ius- clons cake; but I took the thick ehect of creamy paper, and read it steadily through, I was past emotioa gow. “Dear Mra. Bosely,” it said, “'hls fs o bid you good-by; for I' sm going to marry my cousin, Lord Daneecourt. ~ We have been en- fgaged for more than & year, aud now ke won't wait any longer, bt iusists on carrsing me Tight away from Londcn; 80, 8 he ia far Atronger than I am, I am forced to yield, and shall not se0 you any more. Dou't forget mo, and mind to svith mo jov over the cake and wine. Alao bid Mr. Chasuble good-by for.me. I Jiked him very mach. Always your hearty friend, - **JULIET MANDEVILLE." That was ten years ago, and 143 USMARRIED STILL. I am more than ever couvinced that cellbacyis tho brue and propor stata forthe clergy, and I ‘malke that condition a £ino q1a non with my cu- rates. ButIkeep Jaliet's perfumed nots bid- den away in the deek where I write, and the touch of her fresh young i'ps has kept me frorx. sll others aver since. I'tbink it was ths iouo- cently cordial, frank manner whbich led me fo fancy her. It may te ghe wag only 8 heartless coguette smusiog herself with n mild flirtatipn. I only know hers was the onlv girl-kiss fhat ever pressed my face, and cone have ever brush- el it away.—Once @ eck. ey TO HY NATIVE LAND. T'vobeen s wanderer all my days, Since childhood's wreath of infancy Btoie fiom my Lrow: F're suog thy lays On many a trackless, foany ses,~ y Land, T've sung and aighed for thee, In far-off Ind, the land of gold, Where {airest rose-embowered groves Within their fragrant arms do bhold ‘The incerse of ten thousand cloves,— My Land, Tvesung 3:d dighed for thee. *Neath Austral's grandiy-towering trees, ‘Where odors from the sweete-t flowers Perfume the liht, ambroual Lrceze, Aud da5s paga Lrlef 23 Edea's hours,— i y Land, T're sung and sighed for thea. Through olive-browsd, wild Araby, Where dark-hucd malds =125 bzightest eyes - Cast beaming looks of love on me, Outrivaling the star-decked ukics,— y T're sung and sighed for thee, T've réamed through every beanfcous spot That can be traced upon our Esrib, Apd, 'mid thelr gloriea, ne'er forgst The “Sea-Girt Tnle” that gave me birth,— Throtgh all I've eighod for ihee. Jases Livatrrs, Ferrible Wrongs, The California papers relate a srory of wrong snd sullering that 18 notoften equaled. Inigst a Mr. Btroow and his wifo, nteady, iudustricus people, come across the pisine, =nd récured pre-emption ranch af 200 scres in iendocino® County. They bad just succeedod i clearing off the underbrush sad making thefr homes comfortable, when two stock raisers, named Giger and Alexander, saw the olace nud wanied to buv it, but Mr. Btrong refused to sell, sasing that he was too old {0 movo ngaio. He per severed in this determination, ard the men sors vengeanco on his obatinacy. Killng a n bor's cow tp his farm they accnsed Lum of deed, aroused public clamor azainst tnm, au by perjary, bad bim sent to State Prison 1 July. They then lud their piots sgawaot b wife, and on the 28th of last month ebe . found dead in a gorge near the house, witha bullec bole through her head. Suspicion wzz then directed against the two drovers, and the evidence is now g2 strong that their ponjshmont is Goemed certain. A petition fdr Birung’s pan don ie in the Governor's handa,