Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, December 13, 1874, Page 11

THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1874-SIXTEEN PAGES. ! n WORMAN. proposeci Boarding-House and Training-School. The s from Working Women in Faver of the Project. an American Girl Became an Inti- mate Friend of Queen Victoria. numornus Items Relative to the Tair Sex, ghe Proposed Bonrdinz-Touse and proining-School for Women. 2 Séilor of The Chicago Tribune: 3 ‘tm: In regard to the proposed “ Boarding- <o 2nd Traiuing-School for Women,” & corre- ot, * Ruth,” in last Sunday's THIBUNE, «Have the working women's idess been rally expreased 2" and guswers, “ They wore Bt at tho mesemeeting.” As a working vimsn, T acknowledg they were not, for many | masns. Fow working women road tho pepers, aept on Sunday,—thereforo thoe announcement . pusscarcely noticed; tho time wwas so short that 1 gafow who knew of it did not have an oppor- ! {mity of preparing anything; 1 need scarcely 4§ yytis oot customary for them to speak in { Thie; and, lastly, I donot think any working e i 1 P s undorstands tho plan of the proposad in- Jisuilon,—therefore, how can we ssy whether it +ould be desirable or not? “Your correspondent thinks that, in order to asietho Training-School s snccoss, “Ttought to separsio from tho Boarding-House;" Lut I aonot soe how, in thet way, it could bo made l-sustaining ; HOW IT WOULD REACH THE CLASS #is the evident intontion to benofit; how the fuinary art is to bo tanght,—for what would be- “3 gme of tho food after being cooied, if tho pu- % psare to board elsewhoro? In that way tho piblic would have to support those who were ashle to pay their way; b, in the combina- ¢ Tsco o way by which those who could not prtheir board might earn it, by dovoting s ] sl portion of their time to domestic work in " golosrding department, until they were able to peintain themselves in whatever branch they % myhave chosen. Girls are not degraded by 4 sorking in this way in somo of tho seminaries; % syneed thoy in an institution of the kind pro- peed? Meny bands make light work. The 0! would not suffer, and tho girls would be soefitod. I think any sclf-respecting person wuld rother do this than be dopendent. The wor the Cashicr, and tho Superintendent's and gavard’s duties could be combined with advan- Of courec, thero would bo a Matron and caer officials for the various departments. Tho - Womau's Homo” is cited as s Zailure. I Zuot see in what respect. It has not been go, Y goncially, thus far. That it is not full at the ; pesent time, I will admic. There are muny rea- + sonsfor this thet I canuos take time to explain , jutwos. Did you never hear thatit sometimes i ‘coatatwo doilars to carry one to the hesthen ? i From ibs 15,000 working" women in Chicago, ¢ thereiteertainly a sufficiont number to FILL TWO BOARDING-HOUSES, . #d wmen_wonld find co-operation much % pesuer then isolntion, even though it bo ‘Toder the figurative * vine and fig-tree.” The cuestion is asked : ** Would the ladies who weconpected with this scheme bo willing to board 2¢ euch an ipstitntion?” (I hope tho werking women of Chicago have common sense, * ad, from daily intercouree with men of fifteen 3 yeurs, ] think they have.) Would it be expedient for thicee ladies to do £0? Do you think our efogers would bo iliing’ to? Woud 3 . necessery for A physician fotake 8 corresponding doso of medicine to con- ince the patient that 1t would do him good? It I this nonsense that unfits women for tio du- 1 taoflife. They find, when they come to work 1 fuihelr broad, that it does not avail them much 4 whather they are ** Daughtars of tho Republic,” 4 aof s Kingdom ; they are Valued fortheir worth 4 totheir employers. Every ono tries to pet tho most value for the Lisst money (this is business) ; zud, if castomers '{ il persist in .this course, emjloyers are not to :ltym for availing themeelves of tho law of sup- aad demand. 5 Intho branckes requiring litdlaif any.ekill, “3the gel-supporting woman 3 A HAS MTCH TO CONTEND WITH.. . 1 Many marricd wousen, too indolent or ineficient 1ip keep hous, and baving leisure, are willing to Ivork for half-price, perbaps, simply to add” to ir personal adornment, ote. Did you ever Yaar of » man offering bis servicea for half their jnlug, beeanzo bis wife eypported him? en ‘retoo emart for that. Then, again, there is " :te yourg ledy who lives at home, and perhaps i tahired girl tosttend to her wants. Four dollas : #mwore to her thap eight to one who boards her- 1 &lf; and she thinks if 16 £i0 0 keep her home- <k eister out of emplovment, or reduce her zes to a mere pittance, by the pirit of come , peution. 3 ;' This is certainly an evidence that training is *. twwasary; and those who have climbed eome +' muods of the ladder will climb still higher when : theyfind they are being crowded,—thereby leay- 4 brzore room at tho bottom (there is always i pomabove). Who has the right or wish to Bay, i Thustar and no farther? “Will it be tho best thing to bring them to- fe?” T think so (I bave tried it). Women tivellasmen can learn much by aseociation ; 4 me more eclf-reliant. I will admit, lowerer, that few would care to board atan in- tauion with aid ettached to it, when they wuld boerd elsewhere for the same price ; but, d couree, I know nothing about those ladies’ £ do pot envy them thelr self-imposed oy much to contend with out- e, and ‘many . prejudices to overcomo; for fere are morg castes amoug working-women 11 vero ever dreamed of by » Hindoo. “Do not bolster women up.” This advice P38 mnecessary at present. No ono .. APPEARS TO WANT TO DO §0. Listho ““needy youog men of the Chicago Uni- JeEy” who are willing to_ bo bolstered; an Lthis purpose, 3,000 children ere provider "iblittls begging-boxes to solicit alms Tor their 4 tliart bxmfim, to enablo them to spend four Mzin sindy, when they might earn a living Wsing wood or pegging shoes (and you know Yssould be good exercice for them, and 25 Wbl ag the kitchen i to us). Bt the min- farcll 1his “agrand educationsl scheme.” the ladies had devised 1t for the benefit of Wrhping women, it would have been called i§ Mebeme,” minus tho grandeunr ; and I can im- tne the blood of tho Revolutionary fathers” 4 Mhing through the veins of tha * daughters of ki a4 tho indumits offered them. hat &y the sons do not possess a little of this of birth, Some one one will say, perhaps, 14tho curls arp also to derive eome benefit, as e largely in excess of the boys in_ solicit- {or this poble echeme.” _This reminds me E‘&flh\ta man and Indian who went out hunt- .+ ¥ith the understatnding that whatever they $eht ehould be y divided between them. aiZkey and a crow wero all they obtaiued, lbevkite man_genorouely offered the Indisn feqon thasly: You tako the crow and I'll take & Wker, or 1) take the turkey and yon fake mim‘;:nmi; eaid the Indien, *‘you ey to me SNE'ER A TIME.” éc.‘:filfl hear tho Professors of the University ] e irkos to tho girls, but it is only fancy ; PRy x:u always the woman's portion, though v. Ar. Parkhurst claims that “in this o my, 202" womaa stends at the side gl (but did be givo the working vy Bushtbut the crow £). Men sympathizo by o' 20d women are alivays ready and will- €ip them: while for woman alone the ol e Rev. Robert Collyer are sufficient : e "’55 Dave lost your way, God knows I would Ly Patofiad it When you sre down, I will Jou up." And God aleo knows many will : m-xg;fy until ehe is 10st, and then make & 4 Bi3; P10 on finding ber. Is this Christe o A WorkiNe Woax, £, ;‘.':::al Letter on the Same Subject. 2 % of ?I»e Chicago Tribine; '9&‘1‘ sewing-girl craves & place in your s the purposs of roplying, in bebalf of gy, 201788 working girls in this city, to the %h e0ts that Lave appeared in the %thmgn communicstions published in %mmhe_vrishes of working girls, s re- i establishing herein Chicago of a pleas- Ly e 10l Bome, or boarding-place, a¢ which et T35t obain their board, not a8 & charity, :! ™ h\‘ms, & price for it soméwhat in ‘accord Wages they receive. It would seem that iailigence offico might very easily be attended, 0 g_untlemn.n would ralse any objection to such 8 fair proposition. Jir. Editor, homeless working girls think it bardly fair that tho wishes, the longings of their hearts, 3 STOULD BE MISREPRESENTED to the public throngh lotters printed claiming to be written by working girls, when there cannot be found to-day, in this great city, & single homelees working girl (I write confidently) bat whose heart would leap with joy at the prospect of such an institution being established here. Yes, indeed; for it would be like a break ina clouded sky, throngh which a bright glimmer of the ster of Hope would swaetly shine. Somo two weeks since, thers was published in your paper & lettor signed * Working Woman,” Baying no such home was desirable, &¢. Now, it does not secm that a letter written by a working woman wonld contain such sandmen{a; for they seem a littlo foreign to us toilers,—rather above our li attsivments and aspirations. Last Sunday’s TRIDUNE contalved a lotter sign- ed “Ruth,"—but not claiming as being from a working woman,—in which the same idea 18 advanced a8 tho general feeling among homeless working gitle in referonce to the grojecl. Afy dear ™ Ruth,” wlat can possibly bo vour object in having pnbliuhedv & statoment of this kind, which has no moro foundation in fact than the bright dream of youth, nortraying tho future as a pathway strewn with brightest flowers? Sistar *XRuth,” plense don't write so ill-advisedly of what our wishes are ; but let us stand in our own troe light befors the world. And, 1f you will paint a picturs ot us, of our ue- cessities and wishes, let mo entreat you mnot to represent us 28 a helplees girl afloat on tho great lake, who, when some kindly-disposed fisher- man, leaping boldly into tho midst of the white caps, swims to the rescue, and offers to bear the unfortunate one sately to shoro, gives him & cold rebuff, while down, down futo the dark blue dopths the blinded one sinks. Just so would it scem for homeless working- girls to rofuse tho privilogo of dwelling in A CHEEKFUL, PLEASANT HOME, a8 has_been proposed, ivstead of being as now comsellod to board beneath whatever roof is of- fered. No matter what it and its surroundings may be, there must be her homo for sho can af- ford'no bettor. Mr. Edilor, you. ars not often tronbled with ltters from’ working-girls ; 60 please bear pa- tiently with “ Miranda " whils sho devoies a fow lines fo ‘the meeting (and its spenkers) which took place recently in tais city, called by true- hearied, kind ladies for the advancement of thoir cherixkod enterprise. Several of us work- ing girls wended our way to the placo of meet~ ing, and passed through tho dogrway, into the magnificent ball, with very happy hearts, ox- pecting to Liear nioblo sentiments from the lips of noble men, which would fall like Heaven's Lright blossings, ond givo s godspeed to the worthy cause. You can well imagine how we were taken by surprivo when the pastor of o great aud wealthy church made his speech in opposition to the cherished project. Instoad of dixponsing, by his presonce and words of cheer, bright-sunlight upon the mecting, his sentimenis, sceming tous humeless worlang-girls g0 cold and c:uel, TELL LIEE A FUNELAL FALL. We wero disappeinted and felt sick at heart. We did not imagiva euch were the feelings of Chris- fian ministers - (especially those marching uoder tho banner of lberal Christianity) towards our clnss, whilo claiming, a8 they do - to rprosent ihe seaciivgy and principles of Jesus of Nazaroth. We could bt feel thar we were 1wdeed outcasts ; that all we bad been tanght in childhood, sbout tho Savior choosing the meek aud lowly for Lis com- panions aud_followers, was but an idlo fable ; that Heaven was but for the rich ; that its mas £ive gates would open only to thoso coming in their.fine ooaches, with hiveried attendanta. Thus it seems to us ; and still wo could not believe it was tho truo condition of affsirs, for we had recenily read in o foreign paper the remaris made by the learned Bishop Brown, of \inches- ter, England. - In addressing the elerxy ho saia- “T em afraid, in 2!l Protestzut countiies, not the Cuureh only. but religiou is losing its hold upon the poor. There is no suflicient recson for this in the "Church of Englaud, at ali events; for, of the two, it had far Letter lose the rich. Hath not God chosca the poor of this world, rich in faith and beirs of the promiscs? And evil wiil betide the Church which disregards those sthom He has choscn. The minister of God is the NATURAL DEFENDER OF THE I'0OR, and ho had better err by defending them too much, theo by deterting them when' they nced defente.” Remembering the above brave, noblo words, and somowsy thinkipg he Lpew full as mucl abony the affair 28 swme other clorgymen wo could mention, we took heart and stili survive. and, while life Jasts, will try to act well our art,—hoping, in the ereat fature, there will bo rest, a home, even for wears, toiling wor girls, With respect, MrzaxNpa Mz, Ciicago, Dec, 10, 1574, Qucen Victoria’s Eutimate Lady- . Friend. : From the Sew York Sun. £ is announced 86 an iuferosting piece of in- telligeuce that Madame Van der Weyer, widow of the former Belgian Minister i London, employs £ peusion of 4,000 fraucs a year, which is granted her by the Belgian Government, in gifts to tho widows of literary men in Belginm who bappen to bo in embarrassed “circumstances, preferring those of Louvain, the pirthplace of her late hus- band. The lady whose beuevolence is thus spoken of is_of American origin, and her his- tory illusteates the happy working of Re- publican institutions.. Her mother was the vife of Joshua Bates, lorg managing pariner of the London house of Baring Brothers. Whena young man he was clerk to the well-known “ Billy Grey,” of Boston, and through that neso- cintion he first nitained s place in ike houso of Borings. There was in Mr. Bates’ youth a lively blonde of 12 to 15 years, who used to run bare- headed and barefooted through tho streets of Boston sbout the head of tho wharves at tho North End, whose mother occupied a single Toom on the street, in which ehe bestowed Ler- self and four or five chiidren, and where she was not above roceiviag tho beucfactions of the charitable. This lively blonde was a favorite of tho young clorks in the viciuity, and at length be- came the wife of young Bates. In due time she was carried to London, where she long dwelt in luxury and high social station. One of her dzughters was sought in marriage by Mr. Van der \Veyer, the Belgian Minister, a man of unu- sual cuitare. and for many years the confidant and librarian of King Leopold. Through the King, o friendly intimacy sprang up between the Var'der Weyers and the niece of Leopold, Queen Victoria. Madame Vander Wever, not being in any way compromised by social relationships among the Queen’s subjects, was selected by her as a friend 2nd intimate, and the Queen gave hor a cottage ot Windsor, near the Csstle. Here the famibes of tbe Queon and Madamo Van der Weyer grew up together, in_pleasing oblivion of the distinctions of rank and of their diverse an- cestry. A Cahforniz Girl, Sutler Creek Corresvondence of the Sucramento Union. The Atlantic papers sometimes toll us of a farmer's daughter who raked hay with a horea, or drove a mowingz-machine; but I think that California can boast of. 38 noble a gir! as any of them. A_French gul, 18 years of age, hus hauled cord-wood, two trips & day, 5 miles, aver- eraging & cord and thres-quarters to o load, over a rocky and mountainous roed, with four heavy borsés, nearly every day the pact summer. She is nsnally the first "on tho rond in the morning, and frequently the Inst one at night. She sits high up on her_epring-seat, with her whip and four lines in her bLands, and ber foot on the brake, managing her tcam with as much ease a8 any mau. Hor voice and appearance are cotirely feminiod, and she is of medium size. Sho is “always accompanied by her father, who lifts the heavy stick, buk can neither drive a team nor speak much English. Her well-fitting, dark calico dress, her callvkin laced boots, her black, broad-brimmed palm-icaf hat, and her loog buckskin gloves, all seem to bé well se- lectod and fitted to her businees. Her brown hair hanga in two_neat braids over her should- ers. Sho is usually moro or loss dusty, but it can be seen that it is only the dust of that day. When' she passes through the street ehe turns her eyes neither to the right nor to the left, nnd seldom speaks to any one unless sho i3 spoken to or has business with them. False Love and False Teeth. From the Evanaville (Ind.) Journal “True love has its usual unpleasant course in the bosom of a woman in the upper .part of the city, who loved, not wieely, but too well. Her lover presented her with a 1ate stylo sot of false toeth, to replaco those missing from the lips where his were woot to strey and steal the dew of ‘love. Bat coldncss finally came, and he eought another object for hisaffcctions. She, too, bappened to be toothless, and the lover had recourso to her whom he bad desorted, and tho teeth were wrested from heraud presented to the new love. - No. 1 wants tho assistanco of the police to recover the apparatus whorewith sho dieposes of her usual pabulum. Misccllancous Feminine fteme, A queer old chap has nicknamed his dsughter Migery, becaues she loves company. , Atlanta, Ga., sympathizes with two widows, kisters, aged respeotively 18 snd 15 years. © A Bowling Greon woman has justfallen inlove with her husband after regarding him with great disiiko for ten years. A Nisgara County man asked to be excused from serving as s juror, tho other asy, because *bis mother-in-law was sick.” An Tdaho man heard that he had fallen heir to £100,000, And ho killed Lis wife the first thing s0 that sho would not want a new bonnet. BSomebody advertises a_preparation for keep- ing » lady's hands freo from chaps. A report that she has no money would do tho same thing. Last week a St. Croix girL in a fit of anger be- cause sho conldn’t ges her .foot 1nto a small shoe, scized a carving-knife and cut off her little toe. 2 Mrs. Grant, of Pennsylvania, has killed eight Qoer thus far this season, but thero is many s gui when her husband has had to make his own e An Indiana Judge bas decided that if 8 woman will shorten pie-crust with butter at 38 cents per pound, her husband has good grounds for divorce. There is a Connecticut widower who declares that nothing reminds him of his poor, dear wifs 20 much ae} to live within earshot of o saw-mill during o busy season. An Indiana womon dreamed that she saw her husband kissing the hired gul, and sho gof so mad over it that she_discharged the girl bofore ‘breakfast aoxt morning. ¢ A Cairo man warns people not to trust his wifo, and sho retorts by eaving that he'll go withont clothos all summer before she'll nka%n washing to righim out again. The prudent Fort Wayno husband hides his wallet out_doors, and when his wife riscs in the dead of night to extract a dollar bill from the aforesnid wailot she finds it not. Tho otber day s Binghamton girl offered. to let & countryman kiss hor for five cents. “I gad,” exclaimed the bucolio youth, “that's darn cheap if & foller only had the money.” Paris has now two barber shovs mnnnged by women. When business is brisk, the sidewalk in front of the shops is crowded with indignant women awaiting their husbands’ exit. When that bluehing San Francisco brido showed the checl for $1,000,000 to ber husband, lie burst into tears and exclaimed, with intenso fervor, ** And oven this shall not separate us " An Indiana man bet $10 that he could ride the fiy-whoel ia a saw-mill, 2ud, a8 his widow paid the bet, che remarked: “ Williom wasa kind busband, but b dfdu't know much aboat 13- wheels,” To avoid mortifying her lovor's family, who are very poor, o Montreal - heiress was married the other day in & plun Swiss muslin_costing whilo her underclothing was valued at 2,600. A Williamsburg man wolio his wifo tho othor night, and, in & startled tone of voico, informed Lier that bé badswallowed a dose of strychnine. “yell, you fool” exid she, **lie still, or it may como up.” On rotiring from business a wiso old man said tohisson and succesxor: ** Now, my boy, re- member tlint common sense is the best thing you dan bring to bear on every affalr of life except love-making.” An exchenge, edited by an old bachelor, says “ Man becomes o sort of elcvated slave or ser- vant to & woman when bo marries.” Probably that's why the placo of sserifice is called tho high-menial altar. And now thohend of the family, returning from his **club” through the sharp midnight air, gently rolls his eleeping epousc over to the coldl 5ido of tho bed and sinks softly iuto the va- cated spot with & sigh of thankfuluess. Two Davenport girls actempted the other day to discover what mea find s0 ultractive in cigars and whisky. Retiriug to their bedroom they prevared themselves for the spree, bt brought ;.xh;o experiment to an end by trying the cigars st. The wife of an American dentist sporis the most gorgeous diamonds in Paris, Littlo did we think, when squirming sround in that dentist’s chair, and sucking in laughing-gas and howling, that it was to enzblo this woman to flazz?u Luropean eoclety.—Ezchange. While Spilkins was esting lanch in a Falton street restaurant the “other day, & young lady, whom he Lad often noticed for Ler spirituclle oxpression, came in and ordered a plate of corn- beef bash, cold.” Spilkins told his wife that night tha plysiognomy was a phraud. A man sbout two-thirds drunk, and his back covered with mud, stopped 2 policeman ou the street _and asked to bo locked up. * Why, you are sble to walk home, arer’t you 2" asked the oficer. * Yes, I could get home all Tight, but I dou't wact to, 2nd ycu wouldn't it you kad my wife! Tako me down, ‘olo feller, and if sho comes inquiring 'round just eay I've gome to Eledo on 'portent business."—Lctroi Free ress. A man who was laboring under thio “infinenco of liguor yesterday opaned tho door of tho & ting-room: at ane of the depots and exclaimed : “I'wantto get mamed—I'm worth s million dollars I There wers sixteen ladies in the room. and a man who looked sround and watched them eays_that every singlo -one dropped her eyes, puckered up her mouth, and trred to look loving, inclnding two women who wers 70 yeers old.— Brooklyn Argus. Mrs. Livormore's blood boils and her. spine rises when she comes to this part of her lecture ; *+ Among tho Brahmins in Sonthern India when tho husband takes a wifo he binds around ber neck the badge of ownership, as you bind your badge of ownersbip about the neck of your Epitz- bergen dog. She cooks hor busband's food, stands behind and serves him, and whon .he has finished his meal ehe eats what he hasleft, if ho leaves anything, and if not eho gets along tho best way aio can.” Pause, rash youth, if you are in the habit of removing the postzgo-stamp from vour sweet- Tieart’s letter and pressing the underside of the stamp to your lips under the rapturous delusion that the honoyed Jabials gave it adbesion to_the envolope—oh, pause {—for Williams, or the Nor- ristown Herald, detected at tho Post-Office, tho other morning, s lady love’s coachman apply- ing the stamp to the last letter she sent him. So perishes forever another of love's young dreams !—Danbury News. A tall, youthrul-looking countryman paid his first visit to Baltimore a fow daya ago, and in- vited a lady acqueintauce to visit & theatre with him. Tho lady accepted the invitation, and the young man, following the crowd, walked up to the ticket-oftice, laid down a fifty-cent note for his ticket, and turning to his companion said to ber, *The prico is 50 ceuts.” The lady hap- ponod to have ber portmonnaie with Ler, and, | spprociating tho sitmation, drew from it a fifty- cent note, and her gallant companion passed itin with Iis money, mnd, obtaining two tickets, Dbanded one of them to ber, which sbe quictly ace cepted, end paseed in after hor rural beau. A young lady in Paris, Ky., remarked to companion ia & conversation the othor day, that sha would never paint her cheeks again be- fore attending s funeral, * Why not?" asked her friend, ' Because,” replied tho ouss lady, 7 was painted up when I attended a funeral last summer, and never wanted to cry so bad in my life, and was getting my handkerchiof ready, whon. glancing around at —, I saw that coarse, yellow skin of hers throngh the tear tracks, and it looked horrible. I nover had such hard work to hold my tears in since I was born. I'm done painting for funerals.” A New Orleans Judge, riding in the cars re- cently, from a single glance at the countenance of o iady by his side, imagined ho knew her, and ventured to remark that the day was pleasant. * Sho " only answered: ** Yes." “Yhy do you wear a veil?" ‘“Lest I attract gentlemen.” It is the provinco of entlemen to admiro,” replied the gallant man of aw. “Not when they are married.” “ ButI am not.” *‘Indeed!” * Ob, no, I'm a bachel- or.” The lady quictly removed her veil, disclos- ing to the astonizhed magistrate the face of his mother-in-law. Ho Deen & raving maniac ever eince. : ON THE DEATH OF LITTLE EDDY. Ere sin conld blight or sorrow fado, Death came, with fricadly caro, Theopening bud to Heaven canveyed, And bidits blossom there. Hark! the bells of Hoaven now ring; ‘And angel-tones in rapture sing, And joyful voices fill tho sir: Alittie voul hath entercd there. Wa will not mourn that precioits For be was pure 2nd undefile ‘And Providence, all-just, a 1n mercy bore away the prize, Ere sin came, with its withering power o blight the little spotlesa flower, The Snepherd won Lim for bis fold, Aud oh ! could we put now beliold Tuat soul, in beauty ne'er to fade, Before the awful Judge arrayed, Atypeof innocence and lovo, Immortal in his home aborve! * Andnow he is from £in 50 {re2, ‘A golden link ‘twixt Heaven ar.dme: The tiny bark with priceless freight Hath reached the Golden City's gate,— Safe on that far-off, sunny shore, 2 * 7itidst purs and blest foraver more. Thon, throbbing heart, why thus despord The tomb hath 1. Thero's bops besond § * And stmé fair day he'll welcome me Into a bright eternity, Darsy, chila, | 19, THE MINISTER'S BLACK VEIL. A Parable by Nathaniel Haw- thorne. The sexton stood in the porch of Miiford ‘meoting-houso, pulling lustily at the bell-rope. The old peopie of the village camo stooping slong the sirect. Ohildren, with bright faces, tripped merrily beside their parents, or mimicked a graver gait, in the conscious dignity of their Bundsy clothes. Spruce bachelors looked side- long at the protty maidens; and fancied that the Babbath sunshine made them prettier than on week-dsys. When the throng had mostly streamed into the porch, the sexton began to toll the bell, keeping his eye on the Rev. Mr. Hooper's door. The firet glimpse of the clergy- man’s figure was the signal for the bell to cease its summons. s “ But what has good Parson Hooper got upon his face ?” cried the sexton in astonishment, All within hearing immodiately turned abont, and beheld the semblance of Mr. Hoopor, pacing slowly his meditative way toward tho meeting- house, With one accord thoy started, express- ing more wonder than if some strange minister were coming to dust the cushions of Mr. Hooper's pulpit. “Are you suroe itis our parson?"” inquired Goodman Gray of the sexton.” b4 ++0f & certainty it is good Mr. Hooper,” re- plied the soxton. **He was to have exchanged pulpits with Parson Shute, of Westbury; but Parson Shate sent to oxcuso himeclf yesterday, being to preach a funeral sermon.” The cause for so much amazemont may appear sufliciently slight. Mr. Hooper, a gentlemanly porcon of about 30, though still a bachelor, was dressed with due clerical neatoess, 28 if a care- ful wife had starched bns band and brushed tho weekly dust from his Sunday’s garb. There was but ope thing remarkablo in his appearance. Swathed about tus forohead, and hanging down over his face, so low 8 to bo shaken by his breath, Mr. Hoopor bad on a black veil. On » noarer view, it soemed to consist of two foldy of crape which entirely concealed his features, excopt his mouth and chin, but probably did not intercept Iis wsight, further than to givo s darkoned aspect to all livibg snd inanimato things. With this gloomy shade before him, good Mr. Hooper walked onward, at a slow and quiet pace, BL00p— inz somowhat and looking on the ground, 28 is customary with sbstracted men, yet nodding kindly to thoso of his parishioners who still waited on the mooting-Lonse steps. But 80 won- der-siruck were they that his greoting met with Do return. *Ican’t really feel as 1f good 3r. Hooper's face was behind that picce of crape,” said the gexton. *¢ I don't like it,” muttered an old woman, as she hobbled into the meeting-house. *‘Iie hag chauged himself into something awful, only by hiding bis face.” *+Our parscn bas gone mad!® cried Goodman Gray, followiug him ecruss tho threshold. A'rumor of somo unaceountable phenomenon hedprecedea Mr. Hooper into the meeting-house, aud sct all tho congregation nstir. Few could refrein from twisting thoir heads towards the door ; many stood upright and turned directly abou ; whilo sevorat little boys clambored upon the seats, and came down agnin with a terrible racket. Thero wasa goneral bustle, a rustiicg of tho wonleu's gown# and shufiliog of the men's foot, greatly at variaace with that husbed roposs which shauld attend tho entrance of the minis- ter. But Mr. Hooper appoarod not to notice the perturbaticn of hia peoplo. Ile entered with an almost voiseless step, vent his head mildly to tho pews on cach side, and bowoed as ho passed his oldest parishivner, s white-haired groat- prandsire, who occupied au srm-chair in the contro of the aisle. It was sirange to observe how elowly this vener- ablo man became conscious of sometbing singu- lur injtho apposrance of s pastor. e seemcd not fuily to partake of the prevailing wonder, till r. ooper had asconded the stairs, and showed Inmself in the pulpit, face to fuce witl the con- grogation, except for the black veil. That mys- torious emblom was nover onco withdrawn. It shoos witi his measured breath as Le gave out the psalm; it shrew its obscurity betweon him aud the holy pege, as he road the Scriptures; and while ho praved, tho veil lay heavily on his uplifted couotenance. Did he geok to bide it from the dread Being whom he was addressing ? Such was the effeot of this simple piece of ceapo that more than one woman of delicate nerves was forced to leave tho meeting-house. Yot perbaps tue pale-faced congregation was almost as fearful a sight to the minister as his black veil to them. Mr. Hooper Lad the reputation of a good preacher, but not ao ouergotic one; he strove fo wiu his peoplo heavonward by muld, persuasive influences, rather than to drive them thither by the thundess of the word. The sermon which he now delivered was marked by the same char- actoristics of style and manner as the general series of pulpit oratory. But there was eomeo- thung, either in the sentiment of the discourso iteelf, or in the imagination of the auditore, which mado it greatly the most powerful effort that they had ever beard from their pastor's lips. It was tinged, rather more darkly than ususl, with the gentle gloom of Mr. Hooper's tempera- meunt. ‘The eubject had roference to secret sin, and those sad myeteries which we bide from our nearest and desrest, and would fain conceal from our own _con- sciousness, even forgoiting that the Omoi- scions can detect them. A eubtle power was breathed into his words. Each member of the congrogation, the most innocent girl, and the man of hardened breast, felt as if the preacher had crept upon them, behind his awfal veil, and discovered their bearded iniquity of deed or thought. Many :grend their clasped hands on their bosoms. Thero was nothing terrible in what Mr. Hooper said; at least. no violence ; ana yet, with every tremor of his melancholy voice, the hearers quaked. An uneought pathos came hand-in-hand with awe. So sensible were the sudicnce of eome unwonted sttributein their minister, that they longed for breath of wind to blow sside the veil, almost believing that a etranger's visago would be discovered, though the form, gesture, and voice were thoso of Mr. Hooper. At the close of the service, the people hurried out with indecorous confusion, eager to com- municate their pent-up amazement, andconscious of lighter pirits_the moment thoy lost sight of the black veil. Bome gathered in little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering in the centre; some went homeward alone, wrapt in silent meditation; some talked loudly, snd profuned the Sabbath-day with osten- tatious laughing. A few shook their sagacious heads, iutimating that they could penetrate the mystery; while one or two affirmed that there was no mystery at all, but only that Mr. Hooper's eyee wero g0 woakened by tho midnigbt lamp as to require a shade. After a brief interval, forth came good Mr. Hooper also, in the rear of his flock. Turning his veiled face from one gronp to another, be paid due reverence to the hoary hoads, ealuted the middle-aged with kind digni- i ‘their friend and _spirituel guide, grectod thio young with mingled_authority and jove, and laid his hands on the little children’s heads to bless thow. Such was always his oustom on the Sabbath-day. Strange and bowildered looks re- paid him for his courtesy. -None, a5 on former occasions, aspired to the honor of walking by their pastor's side, Old Squire Ssunders, doubt- less by an accidental lapsa of memory. néglected to invite Mr. Hooper to his table, where the good clergyman had been wont to bless the food, almost every Sunday since his settlement. Ho returned, therefore, to the parsonage, and at the moment of closing the_door was.obscrved to look back upon thepeople, all of whom bad their eyes fized upon the minister. A sad emilo ieamed faintly from beneath the black veil, and Hickered about his mouth, glimmering 88 bs die- appoared. “‘How strange,” eaid a lady, *‘that a simple black veil, such 88 any woman might wear in her bonnet, should become such a terrible thing on Mr. Hooper's face!™ z _“fomething must surely be amies with Mr. Hooper’s iotellect,” observed her husband, the phyeioiar of the village. But the strangest part of the affair 18 the effect of this vagary, even on = sober-minded man like myself. The black veil, though 1t covera only our pastor's face, throws its influenco over his whole person, and makss bim ghostlike from head to foot. Do you not feel it 802" “Truly doL.” replied the lady, **and I would not be alone with him for the world. I wonder he is not afraid to be alono with himself!” “ 3en sometimes are so,” said her husband. The afternoon service was attonded with simi- Iar circamstances. At its conclusiom the bell totled for the faueral of a young lady. ' Tho rela- tives and friends were assembled in the house, and the more distant acquaintances stood about the door, speaking of the good quahties of tho deceased, when their talk was interrupted by tho appearance of Alr. Hooper, still covered with his biack veil. It was now an appropriste emblem. The clergyman stepped into the room where tho corpse was laid, and bent over the coffin, to take st farewell of his deceased parishionor. As he stooped tho veil hung straight down from his forebead, so that, if her evelids had not been closed forever, the dead maiden might have soen hig faco, Could Mr. Hooper be fearful of her flance, that he 8o hastily canght back the black veil? A person who watched the interview be- twveen the deed and living scrupled not to afirm that, at the instant when the clergyman's foa- tnres were disclosed, the corpse lLiad slightly shuddered, rustling tlie snroud and muslin cap, though the countenance retained the composure of death. A suporstitious old woman was tho only witnees of this prodigy. From tho coffin, Mr. Hooper passed into the chamber of the mourners, and thence to the head of the stair~ case, to make the funeral prayer. It was a tender and heart-dissolving prayer, full of sorrow, yet 80 imbued with celestial bopes that the masic of a hoavenly harp, swept h{l the fingers of the dead, seemed faintly to be heard among the sad- dest accents of the minister. The paoplo trem- bled., though they but darkly understood him when he prayed that they, and himself, and all of mor- tal race, might bo ready, ss be trusted this young maiden had been, for the dreadful hour that shou!d snatch the veil from their faces. Tha bearers went heavily forth, and the moumers followed, suddening all the streot, with the dead before them, and Mr. Hooper in his black veil bebind. “Why do you look back 2" eald ono in the pro- cesgion to his partner. *1 had a fancy,” replied she, *that the minis- fz“lrxs:]l]'"l the maiden’s spirit were walking haud-in- 0“‘; And g0 had T, at the same moment,” eaid tho er. _That night the handsomest couple in Milford village were to be joined in wedlock. Though reckoned a melancholy man, Mr. Hooper had a placid cheerfulness for such occasions, which often excited a sympathetic smilo where livelier merriment would bave been thrown away. There was no quality of his disposition which made bim more beloved than this. The company at the weddiog awaited his arrival with impatience, trusting that the strango awe which bad gath- ered over him throughout tho day would now be dispolled. But euch was not tho result. When Mr. Hooper came, the first thing that their oyes rested on was tho same horriblo black veil, which had added deeper gloom to the funeral, and could portend nothing but evil to tho wedding. Buch was its immediate effect on the guests that a cloud seemed to have rolled duskily from be- neath the black crape, and dimmed the light of the candles. The bridal pair stood up before the minister. But the bride's cold fingers quirered in the tremulous hand of the bridegroom, and her deathlike paleness caused o whisper that the maiden who bad been buried a few hours before wae como from ber grave to be married. 1f ever another wedding were so dismal, it was that famouns one whero they tolled the wedding-knell. After performing the ceremony, Mr. Hooper Toised o glnss of wine to his lips, wishing bappi- ness to the new-married couple, in a strain of mild plezsantry that ought to have brightened the features of tho guests, like a cheerfal gleam from the hemt. At that instant, catching a glimpso of his fignre in the looking-glass, the black veil involved his own spint iu the horror with which it overwhelmed the others. His frame shudderea—his lips grew whitc—he spilt tho untasted wina upon the carpet—and ruslied forth into the darkness. For the earth, too, had on a black veil. Tho noxt dnythe wholo Village of MMilford talked of littio else than Pareon Ilooper's black veil. That, and thie mystery concenled behind it, supplied a topie for discussion between acquaint- ancep meeting in the ‘street, and good women goesiping at their open windows. It was the tirat item of news that tho tavern-keoper told his guoats. The children babbled of it on tueir way to school. One imitative little imp covered his face with an old black bandkerchief, thereby so affrighting his playmates that tho punic seized bhimself, and bo well-ngh lost Lis wits by bis own waggery. It was remarkable that, of all the busybodies and impertineut peopls in the parieh, not oue Yeutared to put the plain question to Mr. Hooper, whereforo he did this thing. Hitherto, when- ever thero appearod the slightest call for such 1nterference, ho had never lacked adyisors, nor ehown himdelf averse to be guided by their judgment. If he erred at all, it was by 10 pain- fal a degree of self-distrustthat eventho mildest censure would load hiw to consider an iudilfer- ent action a crimo. Yet, tho go well ac- quainted with this-aminble weakness, no indi- vidual among his perishioners choso to make the black veil a subject of friondly remonstrance. There was & fecling of Gread, neither plainly con- fezsed nor carefully concealed, whichcaused each. to emft the responsibility upon another, till at length it was found expedicnt to send a depata~ tion of the charch, in order to deal with Mr. Hooper about the mystery, before it should grow into a scandal. Never did any embasay so ill dis- chargo ita duties. Tho miuieter received them with friendly courtesy, but became eilent after thoy were seated, leaving to his visitors tho wholo burden of introducing their important business. The topic, it might be supposed, was obvious enongh. There was the black veil swathed round Mr. Ilooper's forchend, and concealing overs featura above his placid mouth, on whick, at times, they could perceive the glimmering of a melancholy emile. But that piece of crape, to their imagination, seemed o hang down befors hia heart, the symbol of a fearful secret between bim and them. Wero the veil but cust aside, they might epeak freely of it, but not till then, Thas thoy eat a cousiderabls time, speechless, confused, and ebrinking uneasily from Mr. Hooper's oye, which they felt to be fixed upon them with an invisiblo glance. Finally, the dep- uties returned abasked te their constituents, pronouncing the matter too weighty to be han- dled, oxcept by s Council of the churches, if, indoed, it might not require a General Synod. Dut thero was one porson in tho village un- appalled by the awe with which the black veil bng impressed all beside herself. When the deputies returned withont an explanation, or oven venturing to demand one, shie, with the calm energy of her character, determined to chase away tho strange cloud tha: appeared to be settling round Mr. Hooper, every moment more darkly than beforo. As his plighted wife, it should bo her privilege to koow what the black veil concealed. At tho mivister's first visit, therefore, sho entered upon tho subject, with a direct gimplicity which mado the task easier both forhim and her. Afterhe had seated himself, she fixed her esos steadfastly upon the veil, but could discern nothing of tho dreadfal gloom that had 8o overawed tho multitude ; it was but a double fold of crape, hanging down from his forchead to his mouth, and slightly stirring with his breath. f A No.” snid she sloud, and smiling, ** tkereis g terriblo in this piece of crape, excopt hides o faco which I am always glad to ook upou. Come, good sir, let the sun shine from behind the clond. First lay aside your lack veil, then tell me why you put it on.” 3r. Hooper's smilo glimmered faintly. *There is an hour to come,” said be, *‘when all of us shall cast agide onr veils. Take it not amiss, boloved friend, if I wear this piece of crape till then.” ¢ *'Your wordsare s mystery, too,” returned the young lady. * Tako away thé veul from them at lenst.” *tElizabeth, I will,” said he, “so far as my vow may suffer me. Know, then, this veil isa typo and a symbol, snd I am bound to wear it ever, both in lighs and darkness, in solitude and bofore the gazo of multitudes, and, ns with strangers. so with my familiar {riends.” No mor- tai oye will soe it withdrawn. This dismal shade must separate me from the world; even yoa, Elizabeth, can never como behind it! ™ “What griovous affliction bas befallen yon,” she earnestly inquirtd, **that you should thus darken your eyes forevor?” = “If 1t bo a sign of mourning,” replied Mr. Hoopor, I perhaps, like most ofher mortals, have sorrows dark emough to be typified bya black veil.” £ ©But what if the world will not believe that it is the type of an innocent sorrow? " urged Eliz- aboth, - * Beloved snd_respected as you are, there may be whisper ihat you bide your faco under tho consciousness of ‘secret sin. For tho gake of your holy office, do away this gcandal! ‘The color rose into her cheekg as she intimat- ed tho nature of the rumors that were already abroad in the villige, Bat Mr. Hooper's mild- ness did not forsake him. He even smiled again, —that samo sad smile, which always appeared like a faint glimmering of light, proceeding from the obscurity beneath the veil. i %11 1 hide my face for sorrow, thero is cause enough,” he merely replied; ** aud, if I cover it for secret gin, what mortal might not do the same ?” " ‘And with this gentle but unconquerable obsti- nacy did he resist all ber entreaties. At length Elizabeth eat silent. For a few momeats she 2ppeared loat in thought, considering, probably, what new methods might be tried to withdraw her lover from go dark a phantasy, which, if it had no other meaning, Was perbaps a symptom of mental disease. Though of. a firmer character than his own, the tears rolled down her cheeka. But, io an instant, as it were, a new feeling took the place of eorrow. Her oyes wore fixed insen- gibly on the black veil. when, like s sudden twi- lizat in the air, its terrora foll around her. She scone, and stood trembliog before bim. ++ And do you feel it, then, at last ?” said he, ‘mournfully. < Sho made no reply, but covered her eyes with her hand, and tm;ined to, 1:m the room. He hed forward and cau; er arm. = ¥ Havo patieaco ith o, Elizabeth,” cried be, passionately. * Do pot descrt me, though this veil must {a between us here on earth. Be ‘mine, and bereafier there shall bo no veu over nof that it my face—no darknoss botwoen our souls! Ttis buta mortal veil—it i not for eternity! Oh! you know not how lonely I am, and hoir fright- enod, to be alone bebind my black veil. Do not leave me in this miserable obscutity forever.” **Taft the veil but once and look ms in the face.” said she. “ Never ; it caunot be,” replied Mr. Hooper. ¢ Then, farewell!” ssid £lizabeth. She withdrew her arm from bis grasp, and slowly departed, pausing at the door to give one long, shuddering gaze, that seemed almost to penetrate the mystery of the black veil. But, even amid his grief, Mr. Hoover smiled to think that only a material emblem had separated him from happiness, though the horrors which it shadowed forth must be drawn darkly betwoen the fondest of lovers. From that time no attempta were mado £o re- move Mr. Booper's black vel, or, by a direct ap- peal, to discovertho secret which it was aupposed to hide. By porsons who claimed s enperiority to popular prejudice, 1t was reckoned merely an eccentric whim, such a8 often mingles with the sober aotions of men otherwise rational, and tinges tbem- all with its own semblance of in- sanity. Bat with the multitude good Mr. Hooper was irreparably & bugbear. He conld not.walk tho streat with any peace of mind, 8o conscious was he that the gentle and timid would turn aside to avoid him, and that others would mako {t a point of bardihood to throw themselvea in his way. Tho impertinence of the latter class com- pelled him to give up bis customary walk at sun- 8ot to tho burial-ground ; for, when he leaned ponsively over tho gate, thero would alwaya bo faces behind the grave-sfones peeping at his black veil. A fable went the rounds, that the stare of the dead people drove him bence. It Erlsul.l him to the very depth ot his kind heart 0 observe how the chbildren fled from his ap- proach, breaking up their merriest sports wiilo bis melancholy figure was yet afar off. Their instinctive dresd caused him to feol more *trongz- ly than anght elso that a preternatural horror wag interwoven with tho threads of the black crapo. In truth, his own antlpathy to the veil was known to be 80 great that he never willingly passed before a mirror, nor stooped to drink ata still fountain, lest in its peaccful bosom ho should be afIrighted by himself. This was what garo plausibilty to the whispers that Mr. ooper’s conscience torturted him for some great crime too horriblo tobe entirely concealed, or otherwise than 80 obscurely intimated. Thus, Irom bonesth the black veil, thero rolled 2 cloud into the sunshine, an ambiguity of ein or sorrow, which enveloped the poor minister, so that love or sympathy could never reach him. Itwas Baid that ghost and ficnd consorted with him there. With eolf-shudderings and outward ter- rors, ho walked continually in its shadow, grop- ivg darkly within his own soul, or gazing through a medium that saddencd the whole world. Even the lawless wind, it was believed, respected this dreadful secret. and never blew aside tho veil. But siill good Mr. Hooper sadly smiled at tho ale visages of the worldly throng as they pzssed ¥ Among all its bad influences, the black veil had tho one desirable effect of making its woarer a very efficient clergyman. By thp nid of his mysterious emblem—Tfor thero was no other ap- parent causo—ho becamo a man of awful power over souls that wero in agony for sin, His con- vorts alwaya regardod him with & dread peealiar to themaclves,—aflirming, though bus figurative- Iy, that, before e brought them to celestial light, they hed been with bim behind the black veil. Its_gloom. indecd. enabled him to sympathize with all dark affections. Dying sinners cried aloud for Mr, Hooper, and would not yield their breath till ho appearcd—though ever, as he stooped to whisper cousolation, they shuddred at the veiled face 80 near their own. Such wero tho torrors of the black veil. evon when desth Dad bared his visage ! _Strangers came long dis- tances to attend service at his church, with the mere idle purpose of gazing at e figare, be— cause it was forbidden them to behold his face. But many wors made to quake re they depart- ed! Once, during Gov. Icher's Administra- tion, Mr. Hooper was appointed o preach the olection sermon. Covered with his black veil, ha stood before the Chief Magistrate, the Coun- cil, and the Reprerentatives, and wrought 80 doep an impression that the logialative meagures of that year were characterized by all the gloom and ploty of our earliest ancestral away. In this mazner Mr. Ho,?ar epent a long life, irreproachable in outward act, yet shrouded in dismal suspicion; kind and loving, tnough un- loved, and dimly feared; a man zpart from men, sbunved in their healthi and jor, but ever sum- moned to their aid in mortal agonies. As years wora on, shedding thoir snows above his eablo veil, heacquired a namo throngkont New England clurchies, and they called him Fether Hooper. Nearly all his parishiovers who were of mature ago when he was settled, had been borno away by many a funeral; he had one congregation in tho church, and a more crowded one in thie church- yard; and, baving wrought so late into tho even- ing, and done his work so well, it was now good Father Hooper's turn to rest. Several persons were vizible by the shaded candlo-light in the death-chamber of tho old cler- an. Natural connections be had none. But thore was the decorously-grave, thongh unmoved, physician, seeking ouly to mitigate the last pange of the patient whom bho could not save. There wero tho deacons and other emi- nently pions members of bis church. There, nleo, was the Rev. Mr. Clark, of Westbury, & oung and zealous divine, who bLad iridden in Taste to pray at the bedside of the expiring min- ister. There was tho nurse, no hired band- maidon of death, but one whose calm affection had endured thus long in secrecy, in eolitude, amid the chill of age, and would not perish, even st tho dying bour. Who, but Elizabeth. And there 1ay thé hoary bead of good Fathor Hoopor upon the death-pillow, with the black veil etill swathed about his brow and resching down over his face, so that each more difficult gasp of bis faint broath caused it to stir. All through lifo that picce of crape had hung between bim and tho world; it had separated him from cheerful brotherhood and woman's love, snd kept him in that saddest of all prison’s, bis own heart ; and suill 1t lay upon bis face, as if to decpen the gloom of his darksome chamber, and sbade him from the sunshine of eternity. For some time previous his mind hed been confused, wavering doubtfully between the past and the present, and hovering forward, 6s it were, at intervals, into the indietinciness of the world to come. There had been feverish turns, which tossed him from side to side, and woro saway what little strength he had. Butin his ‘most convulsive struggles, and in tho wildest va- garies of his intellect, when no other thonght retained its sober influence, he still showed an awful solicitude lest the black veil should slip agide. Lven if his bewildered soul! could haye forgotten, thore was a faithful woman at his pil- Jow, who, with averted eyes, would bave covered that aged face, which she had last beheld in the comeliness of manhood. At length the death- stricken old man lay quietly in the torpor of mental and bodily exhaustion, with an imper- ceptible pulee, and breath that grow fainter, ex- cept when a long, deep, and irrerular inepiration seemed to prelude the flight of his epirit. The minister of Westbury approachod the bed- side. ** Venerablo Father Hooper,” said he, ++ tho moment of your releaso isa¢ hand. Aro you ready for the lifting of the veil that shats in time from eternity 2" Father Hooper at first replied meroly by a feeblo motion of the head ; then approhonsive, porhaps, that his meaning might be doabtful, ho exerted himaelf to speak. 4 “Yea," said ho, in faint accents, “my soul hath & paticnt weariness until the veil be lifted.” “Andisit ftting,” resumed tho Rev. Mr. Clark, ** that & maa %o given to prager, of such & blameless examplo, holy in deed and thought, s0 far a8 mortal judgment may prooounce,—is it fitting that a father in tho church should leavo 3 shadow on his memory that may seem to blacken s lifo so pure? I pray you, my venerable brother, lot not this thing be. Suffer us to be’| gladdeued by your triumphant aspect as you go to vour reward. Before the veil of eternity be lifted, let me cast aside this black veil from your face!” And, thus speaking, tho Rev. Mr. Clark bent forward to reveal the mystery of B0 many years. Bat, exerting o sudden cuergy that made ali the beholders stand aghast, Father Hooper enatched both his hands from beneath the bea-clothes, aud pressed them stronglyon the black vell, resoluta %o struggle if the mivister of Weatbury would contend with & dring mag. i Never! " criod the veiled clergyman; “‘on earth, never!” “Dark old man,” exclaimed the affrighted minister, ** with what horrible crime upon your soul are you now passing to judgment 2™ h Father Hooper's breath heaved : it rattled in his throat ; but, with a mighty effort, grasping forward with his hand, he caught hold of life, and beld it back till he could epeak. He even raised himself in bed ; and thore he sat, shiver- iog with the armsof death around him, while the black veil hung down; awful, at that last moment, inthe gathered terrors of a lifetime. And you the faint, sad emile, 80 often there, now seemed to glimmer from its obacurity, and linger on Father Hooper's lips. s “Why do you tremble at me alone ?” cried ho, tarning his veiled face ronnd the circle of pale spectators. *Tremble at each otbor! ~Have men ayoided me, and women sbown no pity, and children screamed and fled. only for my black veil? What, but the mysiery which it obrcurely typifies, hns made this piece of crape so awful? When the friend ebows his inmost heart to his friend ; the lover to his best beloved ; when man doea not vainly shrink from the eye of his Crea- tor, loathsomely treasuring up the eecret of his sin,—then decm me a monster, for the symbol beneath which I have lived, and die! Ilook awound me, and, lo! on overy visage a blck yeil I” . While his anditors shrank from ono another, in mutuul affright, Father Hooper fell back upon his pillow, a veiled corpse, with a faint smile liz- gering on'tho lips. Sl Veiled, they laid bim in 15 coffin, and a veiled corpse they boro him ta the grave. The grass of many years bas sprung up and withered on the grave, tho burial-stone it moss-grown, and good Mr. Hooper'sfacois dust ; but awfal is still the thoaght that it moldered beneath tho black veil! DICKMAN'S EXPERIENCE AS A COLLECTOR. Writien for The Chicago Tridbune. I am a young man of limited moans—ex- tremely limited—in fact, I have been living on €3 a weex and promises for the past two years. I am also o very excitable, quick-tompered young man; bat under certain circumstances 1 can be forbearing. Last Saturday I lost my eituation, and, of course, I had immediatelr to bestir myself and procure another. In reading the list of adver tisements in Sunday’s paper, I came ncross the foliowing ; WANTED—A collector; a yonng man as collector; one who understands hia business; apply esrly Mon: day morning to Dr. Dobbs, 45 § street. This was what I wanted,—somo light onc-acus work, where I could have plenty of exerciso. T applied Monday morning, and, as the adverv tissment said early, I called about 5 2, m. 1 rang the bell, and was soon pleased to suve the Doctor. He invited mo to enter, which I did, andinafew words made kuown my mission. The Doctor seomed pleaged with my appearance, and in 3 short time I had engaged to do his col locting, and was to receive for my services a very liberal salary. At 7 o'clock I started out with a book full of bills, & feoking that I was tho bedt collector in the business, and a good appotite for breakfast. The first man I caglod o;p?vln Alr. David Boggs, called “*0ld Dave Boggs” by the men on 'Change, and “Deacon Boggs™ by the members of F. Street Church, of which he war 8 member in high stauding, and eaid by all to be a model busband and father. I rang, and askedq to ece Mr. Boggs, and was ushered into the din- ing-room, whero Mr. Boggs and his numerous family wero at breakfast. That gentlemau aross and silingly asked if it was on busioces 1 wished to see him. Iauswered it way, when he immedistely asked if I would not eit up and have some breakfast. I had been expecting this, and *‘sat up " with alacrity. AsI was re sponding to their invitations to help myself to 1 cake, one of the young Doggecs af my sidd grabbed my hand, and roared out, * That's my caleo! Ma, make him gunme my cake!” Tha lady thus appealed to held up her hands in hor- ror at the boldness of her dear Jimmy. "This little incident confused me coneiderably, but fortuuately I had presence of mina enough to awallow pari of the cake before he could lay facther claim toit. At this juncture, toadd etill further to my confusion, another one of tho little brutes upset the conteuts of tho tirnp-mug on my best light breeches, Hastily grabbing my napkin, I esssyed to check the tido of sweetness rolling down my legs. After regrets and apolo- gies by the lady, aud reprimands by the eire, T again attempted * to resumo eating. ‘I took my andkerchief out of my pocket to wipe the per~ spiration from my_ brow, when I discovered o my horror that I had put the napkin covered with sirup into my pocaet, and Liad been rub- bing it over my face. One of tho young fiends at the opposite side of the table discover- ed this, and at onco commenced to &uicken and soort. I felt nsif 1 wanted to throw my cake at his head, and in clutching it abstracted- Iy Ispilled the coffee on wy haud, and scalded the skin all off my knnckles. 0w father, scein: Lim Isugh apparently witliont causoe, Teache overand hit him on_the head with his kmfa. handle, with the remark ** Adelbert Henry, how often hiave I told you the impropriety of Iaash- ing at the table 2" *¢ [ hat laflin’ at the table ; Iwas laffin’ at that feller's faco all kerslupped over with merlusses I” At tlis there wass gen- eral gnort from ail the littio_dovils, which made mo wish I had them all off in sowe placs where I could deal with themin s manner to eatis{y Ty outraged foehng. Breaktast boing over, I was introduced to the “litile darlings,” as theic indulgent mothor called them. 1 did not kuow one from the other, however, when it was over, a8 my mind had been occapied iu watchicg o small brindle pup that was chewing tha brim off of my new silkc hat. _He would first vibble a Lttle, and then jump on it and shake it aroand under & chair, I did not dare say anything for fear of offending one of tho “ little darlings,” one of which, Dora May, wae now led forward to give ‘‘theman” a kiss. She had ochre yellow hair, which was cut short on the neck. She was also freckled, and had watery blue oyes. Sho camo forward, and put her arms around my neck, and slobbered in my eye. When she got down I scraped a large Iamp of butter off my coat-collar. Mr. Boggs now asked me into his library to Bee obout that ‘little business.” I was very glad togo. 1 bade all the little imps. good-by, and went into the library. 3Ir. Loggs stood smiling nng rubbiug his hands, aud said * Novw, r. - M. o mau, ir,” enid I w, Alr, Dickman, abont that little busi- ze: *1 pulled out my book. *0, a check,” he said, still smiling. - Yes, gir, 8 check will do just as well aa the cash,” I remarked.. +Of course,” gaid be, “*it will be all tho &amo.” I then handed him tho bill. “ Why, this a—a—bill,” said he. “ Yeu, sir, a bill of Dr. Dobbs ; didn’t you un- derstand ¥ +I—I—no; I have not got the amount of money this bill calls for.” This answer disappointed me, as I had hoped to got the monoy ; but, a4 he did not haze it, I loft the biil and bade him good morning, prom- ising to call again. = 1 now took a car to_the south eod of town, to sce o gentleman by the name of Fitzjinks, Aa 1 approached the house I sawa man hoewg mn the garden. I advancod toward bhim smiling. He looked up, and from tho first glance I took him tobea very mild kind of a man. I said #Good morning, Mr. Fitzjinks, you have a beau- tiful garden hero.” **Hay, what say? Tow'll have to speak ratker loud, 'm a littlo deat.” I say, you have a very fine garden here,” T repeated. *+0, yes, yes; a vory fino day.” 2 “Tealled to seo if yon could psy that little bill of Dr. Dobbs',” eaid I 3 4 Bulbs, O yes,—I've got a great many,” said bo. +Bill! bill!” sud I; * Dr. Dobbs’ bilL” «Well, yes, I waa thinking of building in the spring, but times are so bard I don’t know.” +¢I didn't ask about your building !" I shouted, «] want money.” “TWell, yes, that's what I told Mariar, but she thought it would bo best to wait till spring.” I don't caro what vou told Maria!” I yelled; ] want money, moncy, money! " “*That's jes’ the way it is with me—money, mouoy, money ; it seems 'a though folks think everybody's made of money nowadays.” <1 dont care a cues what folks think!" I howl- ed; *Iwaot you to pay Dr. Dobbs’ bill; I stand fooling round any longer.” Yes, yos, that's my idee exsctly : the longer they wait, the better.” “1 don’t care a damn for your ‘idee’!” 1 gcreamed ; *‘1want Lr. Dobbs’ money—moncy 4 " or blood!" Dauriog this time I had advanced toward him, when, raising his bead. he saw my excited look, and, divining danger, raised his hoe and knocke: 1me down into & gooseberry bush, and then yolled murder, and rushed at me again with the hoe. He jumped on to my stomach ; he caltivated my ribs with the hoe-handle : be kicked me and trampled me into the earth. Then ‘‘ Mariar™ camo running up, hallooing murder, fire, police, and heaped still farther indiguities upon me, by hittingme in the eso with 3 wet mop. I thea nearly fainted, and the old cuss caught up tbe sprinkler and poured the water in my mouth and up my nose, and as I attempted to rise again knocked me down with the hoe-handle. Inow watched my chance and jumped up and ran, buf he whistled and sicked the dog oz me. It wasa large dog. He gotme; we grappled ; werolled on the sod; he bit moe in theleg; I got in cae kick on bis tail, and leaped the gate. I did nol Linger; I limped away. ‘here is an opening for = good collactor. I am in search of employment. I want sometbing new, something with good psy snd no heavy work, for L am yet sore in mind and body. MoxT. LaYsE Ansociaty of eminent French writers, archmol. ogists, snd professors, under tho direction of Messrs. Uaromberg and Saglio, are at - present engaged in publishing an unimportant work, of the highest acientific value, entitled * Dictionary of Greek and Latin Antiquities,” according te anthenticated texts and monuments, contaning the explanation of terms relatmg to manners, institutions, religion, arts, sclence,”costumes, furnitare, war by land snd sea, trades, coiud, weights, measnres, ctc., and giving o gooeral view of the public and private lLife of tho an- cients. This work will be illustrated with 8,000 engravings, designed by ¥. Sellier, and engraved by AL Rapine. 3 [ [ g TR S S R T ——— e o o e ST e