Evening Star Newspaper, October 14, 1871, Page 2

GRIT ™ (4PTeR THE MaNxER oF THE MODERNS.) Figrra for Molt of the Mountaina, me. Til back her agin the biggest cuss, ‘Whoever the fool may be" Whee a stoner | ‘What! do you ¢ oe Black? ‘oung fellow, il get s foorer THF pha don dake that word back. own bell; Date pitched Tato silver Jim: @he knccked him into « gu- ‘There was litd left of ‘4 Bho and s grizzly tueeled— =, It was even tug She'd nary a rag left on her, But ebe made him swallow a host She bet her pile and lost it, For gouging Lee was ihore— She didn't seem to-care a bit= Didn't the fellow stare! “IM go another !"’ yelled Moly. We gathered round to sec— She touched off a keg of powder, And i landed him in a tree. | Moll was hanging there too, She did not wince nor moan, ft to see her open and shut ber hands World have melted a heart of stoue. “Are you sufferin’ muc ply eat in hell,” said ol “Rut I guess as far as monte goes, I'm shead ot gouging Lee |" ‘Three months on her back Moll lay— e powder mark is there, Bat gouging Lee found another tree: j Now call her black, if you dare! | —K. S. Greenough. THE TEA PARTY. {From Appleton’s Journal.} Anearly June morning in a house occupied by its owner, Clara Goreham, a widow, and her | mother, Mrs. Gray, a widow also. To a passer- by the domain presented a cheerful view; order ‘was established everywhere. The sun shone on — walls, the windows glittered, the | grasy Deneath them was newly mown, with the petals of the snowbell- | the high granite steps. were flurried with the panic: and tulips trembled lens clacked in the garden, Sars cat, y the etree te bya big dog, who lay on the paws crossed in lazy content. Or- also; every room was a me of them were furn- the fashion of Mrs. Gray's early days, modernized by Clara's taste. poems, novels, and novels ‘Chintz was a’ weakness with her, led, and cov- house had an townsman— Oy | was was | away of her hus- | band’s retarn from that deep which moane in so many voices to despairing, hoping, waiting | hearts.” ht that eke saw the | ; she dreamed by heard his footstep outaide her «oor; | @ saw the intelli- | gence of his return in the faces of those who ap- ed her; but he never came. He left a Kittie property which she saved for Clara, and, | ing nothing upon herself, tanght a’ little sb-e-school—a-b-c's often blurred by her tears instead of her scholars, and | dimmed by the i of a stately young man rising before her, and looking into her longing eyes amid the hum- ming voices of little children. Clara grew up, a carefully-nurtured girl; all that her mother’s straitened means allowed was given her. In her turn, she married a sailor also. He, too, made his last voyage when Clara had been mar- Tied six years, and he had been absent two; tid- | ings reached her, from the far Pacific, that Captain Goreham’s ship had foundered at sea— & small part of the crew, escaping by means of the boats, was picked up bya passing vessel,and this was all. Thornbury was stirred by the ca- lamity, for Captain Gore! wasa popular man, belonging to a family; but the universal comment was, that Clara would “weather the disaster” better than her mother did. So it ap- ared. The 1 of mourning over, Clara rew off her black, and opened her house. to | cheerful company and cheerful ways. On this nt June morning, in one of her chambers, sat Catherine Sinclair, a visitor from a distant [yp the country, and related to the ams. She was busy trimming » light evening- dress, and singing, in a sweet voice, the oid “A place in thy memory, dearest.” | Clara was rummaging an adjoining closet, where the household linen was kept. In a | muftied voice, as if obseured with sheets or nap- | Kins. she called presently: } * Why do you insist on a place in his memory, | Kate? Poor nourishment you'll tind in that “claim.” ! ‘* Hush! Tam only warbling to be in readiness | for our company to-morrow. I mean to be kill- ing in my last appearance in Thornbury, y “ By no means; you will be caught yet, and find something more than the ‘sound of his | name.” aken, will what a sly, deceitful Clara! " You had better stay in is there any skeleton Clara did ne chill, about the con: which contained the ‘‘shore clothes” b What a dream her married li seemed to her! An impulse to test her fee ings led her to turn the key and open the trunk. Catherine struck up her song again, glad that Clara was not there to resume the topicof Chan- dos. Clara turned over the articles, which had not seen the light for many a day, to the restora- tion of “A place in thy memory, dearest.” Nothing beyond the chill moved her at the sigh of the familiar wardrobe. “Am I heartle: she thought, ‘that these things find me so cu What am I made of, that I cannot shed a single tear? 1am not like my mother, who whimpers now, when father’s name is mentioned.” She shut the trunk, and went down-stairs dissatisfied with her past, and doubtful of herself every Way. | Mrs. Gray was in the kitchen, stoning a mighty mass of raisins. The outer door was open; a shadow fell on the floor, and, looking up, she perceived a neighbor, Mrs. Rankin, who ex- | claimed: “* Lsaw your back-door open, and I could not | sud by wittiout giving you the time of day. How fe ara is getting ready for one of he te isshe?’ , Clara has a recipe for t suppose she gets them up as well can be got up in Th y not able to buast of much.” arties. I any thing Youknow, we are “ She is ingenious at most anything, Mrs. Gray. How she used to cut and contrive when she was young creetur, and how well she ap- peared among the best, in the days gone by, | When neither you nor me hae much to brag on, 80 far as this world's 7 | “T wonder if we are the happier?” replied Mrs. Gray, lifting her spectacles. and pauaing over her work. ‘I certainly do not value now | what I used to value—plum-cake, for instance, made twice a year, insteadof every month. Tea- | parties now lack the relish of the old-fashioned | n-tea drinkings atsuch houses as the Mayos, Barrons, and the Preeders, where we kiew each other's domestic habits perfeetly the econo- mies we practised from choice or necessity, and | the various shite whlch poor, or ‘proud, OF pe= culiar le resort to. Yet, when we met in company-drest the Key was turned On any of fensive Individuality, and we kept up appear ances thoroughly; no exposure and dremtng of Our chronic ulcers. We deceived each othee in faith, for the sake of repose and our self- love; and, ignorant as we might have been, our manners ‘were s0 good, that we parted with Fistcful remembrance aid went home revived y harmless illusions. We don’t act so any 3.0Fe; Clara often says there isa good deal of domo"! Dature stalking abroad, and that parties eS ae ty for an exhibition. I fink human nature had better be left at homg sometimes.” «“ Well,” Mrs, Rankin answered, with an or- | him, and he was fond of her pan-cakes: “i haves good mind to stay—I will stay. Not aword! Let me run home one minuta, and set things to going.” Suiting the action to her word, eho flew out. “There, mother!” “She can make herself useful, and save you some fatigue. Do make the best of it.” “ The best of it is, that the whole matter will beset before all Thornbury.” “No matter for that; make yourself easy now. Why can’t you take things a8 Catherine Sin- clair does?” “Lam not to her manor born. Sie ts good humored and lazy—I am cross and_ industrious. I wished I loved idleness. Why did you train me to such perpetual industry?” “ My dear, it was necessary once. Esupposed you might have to eara your living. You have pen unate.”” 0 Clara, do you ask? What more could you have? A’ better home, more friends? rounded by every comf days. You astonish me! Ciara toseed her head and knitted her brows. “ Twant what Kate pomesses: « heart happt- ness. I was never taught any thing beyond the material, mother; it seems to me that m ad- ferity snd in prosperity my mind has been Kept rpon one dead level. f don’t think my lite is worth any thing. I am sick, just now, of this good housekeeping—excellent system, per- fe yp ogenk omy ing in @ smooth, round nut- shell, that never had any kernel.” ‘hat will do for now; this is no occasion for such behavior. The parlor needs dusting, I wish you would shake all the mats on the centre table and stands. Keep calm, Clara.” “It shall all be done to your liking, ma’am.” And Clara withdrew. “She will break ont now and then; I wonder what has touched her this morning?” was her mother’s comment. Meantime, Mrs. Rankin hurried home, burst into the room where Mr. Rankin was resting, with a hoe on one side of him anda basket potatoes on the other. He did not raise his as she entered, but drew a little harder on pe. PEStr. Rankin, T have done a footish thing, and T expect you will biame me.” «He betrayed no sai at this announce- ment, but mildly asked: “Weil, what « T’ve coneinded fo Iny a hand to Clara Gore- ham’stea-party. Ihave my surmises, thero’s something to pay at Mrs. Gray’s; I feel {t in my bones, and, for life of me, I can’t exactly find it out.” “I dare say; you aro too fond of excitement, and of gadding abroad.” «T'l'set your dinner out on the porch-table.” “ Cold comfort, marm.”” item pets perk vay of ght coid enc apts pls : nats, Ishould ike to oe " «7 don’t complain; set ’em out.”” She bustied about, talking all the while, and sranged him ® comfortable meal, and 'van- ished. «Just the usefullest woman in this town. Good at a wedding or @ funeral, all the to her, as long as she'is ina mess of other people's business.” With this comment, Mr. Rankin fell, upon his dinner. Mrs. Kankin’s good-humor and zeal reconciled Clara to the invasion. Catherine Sinclair was delighted with the audacity of her remarks to the dignified Clara—remarks that scarcely could be parried. “Tam tired of your tea-parties. I want to help fix for your wedding, Clara. You are searcely past twenty-tive; there's many a likel young man ready to step into Captain Goreham’ Shoes. Look the world over, and I, May Ran- kin, say it, who knew him from the time he was knee-high to a hop-toad, you will never find a better man, though, you must own up, that of matrimony’ you have bad little experience; for, as nigh as I can calculate, you and he did not live together above a year in the whole six. From the beginning was a Cape-Horn widow, and, O Lord, what a way to live! Cap- tain Ben Giddings had five children, and never saw one of them till it was nearly three years old. His oldest darter was born, married, gnd dead, betore he had» chance to get acquainted with her; and with you, Clara, you were always getting your man’s sea-clothes ready, putting away the things he wore ashore.”* Clara at last told her to hold her tongae, or things would never be in readiness; there were Cups, napkins, glasses, and ever so many things, to count out. ‘With one more shot Mrs. Rankin ceased her clack for the present. nagdiare you to count, Mr. Chandos twice?, 1 hear he is pretty well divided since your prett Miss Sinclar came. ‘They say the light does pot | go ont in his office all night now; can’t be the w, because he has no ease on hand. Ho is handsome, but I s’pose he hasn’t a dollar to his name. His father, old Squire Chandos, has property enough, but he is mean as get out.’* The counting of Mr. Chandos was the gist of Ch s its c Ki T about a account with her. every thing would be finished and off her » mind, her old routine resamed—picking leaves from her plants, blind over nee work, hot with feather-dusting and cake-baki to say nothing of feeding the cat, and taking te »g down to the beach for a swim—which ‘rou- tine till now had never seemed tedious. Before Catherine came, six weeks ago, Mr. Chandos, a young er, settled a year in Thornbury, Visited Clara and her mother ina friendly way very often. There was a variety of agreeable and deluding interes's between himself and Clara, in which Mrs. Gray took the part of chorus, chiming with both as adroitly as her habits permitted. Clara’s flowers was one of these interests; they watched the growth of bud and blossom, and dipped into botanical authori- ties. “Mr. Chandos devised little adders for the vines, and ornamental pots for the shrubs, and many a delightful hour was in the morn- ings among the perfumed treasures. Novels were another; the serials were read together and discussed. while Mrs. Gray knitted noiselessly, or slipped in and out of the room as silently as 8 dead leaf falls. She ventured the mending of his gloves, and consulted his appetite, and learned his tastes, which she tried to suit, in her modest, background way, but it was effectual. He soon confided many tings to her. With the Thornbury people she was very open about the acquaintance. Mr. Chandos, she assured them, came to visit her; the house happened to be agreeable to him, and, for her parte she was delighted to have it’ so. it was not often that an intelligent, liberally-educated man came among them. Conversation meant something when he conversed. She hoped People wou not be foolish enough to connect his name with Clara’s, because ‘suited That he and ara had a remarkable m for flowers, and were devoted to novels, was no rea- soreham's son. But their names were connected, espo- cially when they$ were met*walking the quiet roads by moonlight, and his tall head was much inelined toward Clara’s shoulder, and her face set toward his. When Catherine came, he was, of course, introduced to her, and she at once perceived that he was the great card. She de- termined to play a game with this card, for she was a desperate little flirt, and, moreover, Mra. Gray’s manner sug; ed it to her. There was @ certain watchfulness and uneasiness which stirred the young lady to opposition; she owed it to herself to punish suspicion and an instinctive want of faith. She at once boldly inquired | whether Mr. Chandos was e1 to anybody. | _ “Dear me, no,” replied C! ; “he is very ew. et” *‘firs. Gray looked queerly at Clara’ quiet face, and said: “« My dear, he Is at least twenty-four.” “ Well, he seems young to me, who am twenty- tix, and igel as if T belonged to the tribe of Mo- thuse! Yd “ Fiddle-stick, Clara!” cried Catherme. “I shall shake you out o1 ur old-fashioned rusti- nese, “Twenty-six, indecd! ‘You live im such quietness and repose that your complexion is as smooth as cream. Iain worn out Dealde you; T to distract me, and, Chandos is nice, I'l amuse myself with him.’ ~ 1 would if I were you,” Clara answered. “How could you make s0 foolish a remark about Mr. Chandos to that child?” Mrs. Gray when she was alone with Clara. you €x} t me propriate him? ut yon need aot have thrown him at oung. and has just commenced ractice of greta on has not entered. his head Catherine made fine eyes at him immediately. he was enticing, and Mr. Chandos, at first wi and surprised, fell into the sweet trap of her honeyed looks, and But suc ie the Inconattency m7 of » » a8 SOOT. batrin en ree et eee, ee ee heart and his reason love it was as plain as day, from the ‘he best part of his ‘had ward that quiet But from’ the he had, like a t greedy, simple fish, swallowed Oatharine’s Tackle, Clare "turned colder’ tan eae as distant. - smiles over Spee were like 5 ‘a particle of irritation, excitement, expectation, = Seagate, es capenent Se Se and ‘The flowers, the novels, the actallzing, doubeful dreams werea izing, dream. Charles Chandos was in the depths misery. men and women, this first with @ curious contempt admiration, know full well what a sore, trying ache this ia. It seems the pivot on which balance-wheel of time and eternity turns. whata dilemma he was! Ey he was the two girls; law went to the and ae ee et ik ts tas oe RS as SGror bis head—ana bis hair was weer it being one of his chief beauties. Poor keener in the of chorus than did her dest to make him comfortable and ease. What were idle easy-chairs now? what tne. So the went on; shuffled ‘maelves, night, alone in his om he that he distracted, that he would not bear it any 5 Wrote letters to a college-chum, and, by ten o'clock next ng Whalge more sock ith Catherine, and sub- to attacks of hard hearing whenever he ad- Saws her, and Mrs. Gray had given evidence of being somewhat ont of temper, he retu C1 Ser to his chum: ith But I fear that I have lost it. 1 an infe weak creature to suffer so in the of a little widow-woman who had given me no reason for loving her, and yet an angel blazing with the light of heaven could not make me love that she le not worthy of all the love an honest man might feel for her. She is very cruel to me—me, who would consider it an iaes- timable privilege to kiss the sole of her foot! She waves me toward the Sinclair with her imperi- ons will, and off T go like a dog, to count tho on ers, and pick up the nu- merous articles she coustautly tots fall for. the pleasure of seeing me duck down for them, and come up red in the face. I wonder if Clara ever laughs at me? if she I should feel like giving her a blow. What right has she not to understand me? John, am I not worthy a wo- man’s love? Answer in your next, and don’t be so irreverent. Poor Mrs. Gray, I believe she values me. She followed me to the door to-night with such’ mournful eyes, and two cats inside ere smothering ® laugh. I wish you would come up to ury and rescue me. here's ishing now, aud the hotel is fair. Mise inelair 1s charmiing—younger than Clara, gay asa child, pert and bright, and handsome. She would take off the down of your raven darkness and blues. Clara is not handsome; that is the reason why I did not discover ‘my Thad to fall in with beauty, and Glscover its non-eflect; but I suppose I am not . erway. speak ing of Adam, I have fancy that Clara bas wena ease eye. bl —— a= = | of whales, |, I am told, ut only a few days or so with bis wife In all their married yea. | She, however, puts on 8 great many, airs with | me. ‘ou are r. Chandos,” she says: and “ When you havehed the experience I have Thornbury; of fe and society she knows gate | 9 mows noth- ut tho is -bred—hal all hearts are invited | ‘and you will get over it. How about the 2 suppose your Gerernor won't cut up much. Thank yet | I will come on and fish. The Sinclair seems to have trolled pretty well with her hook and lines; Iam curious to see how she has im- uj . Can your folks up there bear Tabacco Wei be good. for statuses ‘on, be cor for M; 9 Clara’s ben Namby-pamby there, I fear, Look out iT Me. “ Joun.” So the preparations went on for the party: Clara absorbed with thoughts that brought her little comfort while her hands were busy; her Pilde took solace in the remembrance that, after it was all over, there would be no inconvenient ashes to sake we, and carry sway; no letters had ‘D eX no presents given. Nothin; had been done which could leave in cither com science a single cos ste~ rious thing, then, feel aw if life and hope were slipping throug! her fingers? Before dusk, when Mrs. Rankin was taking what'she called “‘a breath,” and was fannin; herself with her apron, the door-bell rang, an she opened the door. A boy stood there with a note for Mrs. Gorcham. le wanted an answer, and would wait on the steps for it. Mrs. Ran- kin took it between ber thumb and finger. Ey- Ing the messenger severely, she asked: 1, Whose boy Be you? I can't call your namo.” “ My name ls Sam Cowell, and I live on the edge of Thornbury.” sr thought vou could not belong dorhood. Vil take the billet rigl back ina jitty.” Clara reddened as she took the note, but rend its contents aloud. Mr. Chandos had been com- pelled to send an excuse for not spending the Present evening, as he proposed; his friend Mr. edfall had arrived, an old college-chum, who claimed his attention. Might have the pleasure of bringing him to Mrs. Goreham's party on the following evening? “ feuppose I may say yes?” Clara remarked. You cannot refuse,” said Catherine, “though he may be a perfect kill-joy.” “More fish for your net, Kate,” added Mrs. to the neigh- it in, and be ray. You will have to stay and demolish him, Miss Kate, to be sure,” said Mra. Rankin. * i don’t think our girls have the faculty with boaus | that you stieplay Clara's ways are dreadful-old eee e don’t put herself forward one mite.”” “ Do 1?” Catherine asked. “Them that the coat fits, can wear it. cuse nobody. Clara disappeared while the talk went on, and dashed off a line, very conscions that it was the first she had written Mr. Chandos. She in- formed him that he was at liberty to bring his friend, though it was avery piain entertainment she had to offer him. Mr. Chandos must be the best Judge whether his friend would enjoy it. Miss Sin last tighas she hoped, would be an enjoyable one, and, if any element could be added to improve the ‘occasion, she herself would be most happy. “‘Itisa complete ‘letter-writer’ note,” was Mr. Chandos’s comment when he read it, and he felt as angry as if he had expected an affec- tionate e} ie from her. an,” Mrs. Rankin every thing is spick and said. “That last cake has riz beautiful. It is not quite done. I just poked a broom-straw in it; but I think I may go home. You needn't be scared if you see me peeking at the back-door to-morrow night.”” And so Mra, Rankin departed. without stated reward; she would have felt insulted by the offer of money; but she knew in her heart that she Kapri a oat of the dest cake sent in, and | a ani ol T red carpet-rags. The house at dark was in she mist beautiful order, and as still as if it were empty. “Cather ine betook herself to her room with a novel; she declared she had some little sewing to do. ‘Mrs. Gray sat in the dressing-room, very quiet and somewhat weary. No lights’ were burning down-stairs; the flowers in the parlor where Clara was gave out sweet odors; and when the Rioon rose, and laid broad silver beams across e carpet, room appeared like a fairy- bower. Pacing the floor, she sighed. ” “How beautifal this might be, but that Iam intolerably lonely! I like to do’ nothing alone now—not pick a flower even. What a fool to have allowed this long serenity and security to be broken into! I perceive constantly that my comfortable home and freedom do not suffice. But common-sense will and must soon return. Life here, its round of duties, its harmless pleamres, shall content me. Iam not beautiful nor talented; I have no right to expect notice, to draw attention. Ww, too, whose hopes, like a crab, should walk backward. Mother had never one fanciful dream, ['l be bound. ‘The past is at once her fulfilment and her re- gret; the future, but her past. I'll ask her.” She opened the door of the dressing-room, and called to her mother. “Tam resting in the dark, Clara. Do you want any thing?” “Twas only thinking how many years since youand father were parted.” “Twenty-four years this very June. He Tac- >’ sailed on the 6th, ‘a little mid-day. We had dined early, for he wanted to clear the bay before dark. Tie took a crust of bread from your little hand and put it in his pocket, and I never see bread in your hand without thinking of that moment.” They were silent for a while. In 8 ears the clock Fe a i f tH eit i i | h iF E 3 # in i 4 i pie: knew. Moving back under shelter of a fir fence on which her hand she “ itr” x nn ae be Math a pleasant seat; 5 dark forms. 5 ope vised armed in Clara’s veins as she had never felt it. It was as it a blaze of light had flashed through the darkness of her mind. All night she wrestled who ry 4 fewert her love £03 he would dio for live for him, renounce her own ra are ‘heek when she at the breakfast-table next morn- Tatareye vows nd and ote ok it | considerable friendliness. mach yesterday. You shall not seer band to-day, for Mrs. Rankin ean come if necessary.” But Ciara deciured she wasperfectly welljand e 0. Her spirits were so high that muzzled at the cha: The two gayl the morning ‘away. ‘Ciara consulted Catherine 'y Seven o'clock Mrs. Gray was in her corner, dressed in black silk, with purple ribbons in her cap, snd some fine knitting in her hand. Cath- erine, a brunette, wore @ pink silk fastened with sleeves of black Spanish aco. Clara’s dress was white caimbric stripped with pale green. She wore in her hair sprigs of the pale tmilax; an old-fashioned gold chain, with & square, red-jewelled ornament, clasped her slender throat, and long ear rings trembled in her ears. A small colored mp hired for the occasion, was stationed in the kit the fire where tea and coffee were to be pre- pared, and to attend the door. Half-past seven came. Catherine fanned her- self superbly. Mrs. Gray knitted and yawned. Clara walked to and fro, readjusting chairs, cushions, and books. ‘The first ring came. Enter Etiza Harlow, in brown silk and best pocket-handkerchief. She | says, ‘* Good-evening, ladies;” looks round the room with pleasant black eyes, and subsides ‘to an abstract silence. Catherine stares at her in amazement. Rings come fast now. Young ladies and gentlemen drop in, whose chie! anxiety is to fin aseat. ‘This done, a rigid, waiting silence fol- lows. Tively; iatghter tshonrd. rows more lively; body feels as if some~ pay, little lull happens; every! thing new was about to take . Mr. Chandos, in full ‘dress, te bowing himself a Tight-halred in, and with him ited, young man, Mr. Redfall. Clara receives them with perfect grace; hee secret feelings and the exterior circumstances give her manners the pro uilibriam. Mr. Redfall, at once yw ing her as a lady, excuses Charley Chandos for his weakness. Catherine Sinclair, with ci 80 does he self near her, with a “The smell of coftee on such occasions is the key to conversation, I have noticed,” was his Weave b ’? she replied, “We have been silent, “a within a few minutes. As soon as we begin to eat, we shall all like each other better. If ban- wets could be arrayed at the front, before a attle opens, on e: le, there would not be much fighting, but a jolly exchange of national dishes—a frog for a Bologna sausage, a cabbage fora trufiie.” ‘Now, what shall I say to this ready miss?” he thought. Then, aloud: “I presume you haye been studying the map of Europe?” “Dear me, no; we have only sea-charts in Thornbury.” So their talk ran on, the listeners thinkii Miss Sinclair very forward; but Mr, Redf: considered that he was having excellent re- freshment. Mrs. Gray was taking cups of coffe and tea to the guests, who were in both parlors, and ing trom one to the other across the hall A large table was spread in the middleroom which opened from the end of the hail. Mr. Chandos, crossing the hall, saw Clara standing by the table, her brown eyes serious with hospitable cares. He joined her, and asked if he might be of service, “How delightful every {hing looks to-night!" he said, with a beaming face, because she had smiled in accepting his offer. “Old John was amazed at the shrubs standing in the hall, and at the beauty of our flowers. How these geran- iums grow!" “ Times flies 80; you forget thoy were set out before Catherine came.” “It is an age ago.”” « It won't fly so when she is gone, heavy, I fear.” “ When is she going?” “ Ina day ortwo.”” Did che hear a sigh as if of relief? It scemed so, and she felt a throb of pleasure. She conld not ‘help giving him a shy glance; he Was pale aud sad, and lovked as if he needed a riend but hang “Do help me to serve these people imme- diately." How shall we feed them to the best ad- vantage?” she begged; “and do not leave me.” “Let us ask them Into this room; the table with all this glass and china should be seen be- fore it is disturbed.”? “That would not do at all,” said Mrs. Gray, coming in; “people do not like to stand and eat: besides, they all expect to be carefully waited upon. It is the custom; every thing must be of- fered to every person as if he were smitten with jiversal helplessness.”? Do as you please, Mr. Chandos,” ordered Clara; “only make us merry and satisfied.” Her face looked so bright for a moment—she stood so near him—that he almost forgot him- self. He hurried out, found Mr. Redfall still talking with Catherine, and spoke a word or two to them. Mr. Redfall offered his arm to her, and led the way into the middle room. Mr. Chandos offered his arm also to a young lady, and said: * Follow the leader, please; we are go- ing to have a box-supper, and Yam’ head-war- ter.” Ina moment thirty people were round the ll-lighted table, and in another were served edibles—biscuit, tongue, marmalade, delicious cake, frnited and plain, tarts, dishes of froth and amber, preserved fruits and cream; in short, all that the limits of Thornbury, dis. | tant from the city, allowed. For short an immense consumption went on. ° Clara and her mother were delighted with this criterion of success, and plied appetites with zeal. “ What dreadful chasms occur, Mr. Goreham, in your table!” Mr. Redfall remarked; “bald spots everywhere! ‘I have taken nothing, I as- sure you; neither have you, I dare say. May I find you a seat now’? Here is one in corner. ba Soin bd — t “ Thank you—a plate of any thing. Have you been to a country tea- before % “% “No, never; like it. Why do so many keep utter silence, though? A good many have only opened their mouths to eat, not to speak.” “Ttisour way. 7 fast enough; we shall be “ Yet you invite such 2” “Oh, we must invite each other; we live so. Our events often come from these’ insignifieant meetings. * Does thi 2S pm lady enjoy herself, forinstance ?” And he pofnted to sstient spin- ster who held herthird teacup, and who was looking everywhere with wide eyes. * Certai She has the pattern of all our dresses in her head, and can set forth our man- ners, and repeat all that has been said, at any we = Loge ne «< e bashful oung man, wi ughs ‘50 entertained?” much, is he reall “ He is bashful here; but to-morrow, in the shops or loafing-places, he will be very and sneering In his Temarks upon my attempt at #0- ciety.” «T see, a tea-party is like others; or human nature in general.” ‘But I have friends here who come with a hearty and cong irit, who feel the dearth of a country-lite, and whoare happy to recognize any thing beyond our small routine?” i } to & dis- "8 € dered, as she Meal acinar hn Caan he r. Chi laughing, that pri- Yate conversation was safe. TDS, coemony of mony the evening was over; Mrs. Gray had given uj effort and anxiety. ‘She ent x bys Knots and the mom. saw Catherine raise her eyes; came into her face; she la and struck Mr. ‘Without feet; sl F Fe i i i F FAERFLEEE at 4 te I g ‘bled with emotion, and Clara actually alied him “ Dear,” in a cooing, pitiful per She nace Gerd him and ran up the steps into the arms the > Who was peeping the side-lights. as 1, your color is bright as ey.r, Clara!” Mrs. Gray's eyes fell on Clara, and the whole thing wagtatsoemes aqueczed each other's ‘Mrs. Gray's Tose 0 quickly! she a contra-dance; ; people began to say, a ownatterparty is! no formality was felt. hovered as they ought to, «Laws, Mr. Chandos, I know what young folks are. (I'ye told my old man over and over again, ios Se —" t he did not hear her; the dissolved at oneo, suddeniy. In afew minaves the shrill talk, and farewells, were over. “If Thad known every thing—” she said, af- ter a while. 3 “If Thad fully known, also,” replied Clara. “All that we want to know now,” added Mrs. Gray, ‘1s, how to get to bed quick. How they did tea! A moment more, and darkness was added to the silence of night in Clara’s house, Mr. Chan- Galked before tll re port ao iti w pale. “ I must convince myself my treasure is Rear me,” was his thought; and Clara, wakeful Id, old story. * We do love cach other—how foolish we have been! But I shall never have a tea-party like this again.” ELIzaBETH STODDARD. H.B. ™D HABLE BROTHERS, FASHIONABLE CLOTHIERS. CUSTOM DEPARTMENT. COATS, VESTS AND PANTS TO ORDER FROM GERMAN AND FRENCH GRANITES, PIQUES and TRICOTS. ENGLISM AND FRENCH DIAGONALS AND BASKET COATINGS DEVONSHIRE KERSEYS. CHINCHILLAS AND BEAVERS. IBIsH FREIS. CARR'S WEST OF ENGLAND MELTUNS. SCOTCH AND AMERICAN SUITINGS AND CHEVIOTS. GERMAN, FRENCH, axn ENGLISH CASSIMERES. CHOICE AMERICAN CASSIMERES, CLOTHS axv DOESKINS, VELVETS, CASSIMERES, WOBRSTED anv SILK VESTINGS. READE-MADE CLOTHING, A VEBY LABGE AND PLEASING STOCK. FURNISHING GOODS, EVERYTHING NEW AND NOVEL. HABLE BROTHERS, sc) BR. W.OOR OF Tru AND D STREETS. nn? : BEAD!! READ!!! PRICES, STYLES, AT A. STRAUS’, POPULAR CLOTHING HOUSE, 1011 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, TuRee Doors rrom lltn Street. FALL AND WINTER SUITS: CABTOR BEAVER SUITS.....000.0ceee.n. $27.00 ENGLISH DIAGONAL SUITS...0cccccccn 25.00 ENGLISH CASSIMER! 22.00 ENGLISH MELTON.. 20.00 WASHINGTON MILLS..................... TIGER SILK, MIXED. HABPRIS’ SILK, MIXED. 20.00 18.00 16.00 HARRIS’ CASSIMERE....... 15.50 SCOTCH CASSIMEBE................ 15.00 PUTMAN CASSIMERE............... we 14.00 PHENIX CASSIMERE. eee 13.00 ALL WOOL CASSIMERE. ee 12 00 GENTEEL CASSIMERE....... 10.00 And HEAVY SUBSTANTIAL SUITS... 8.00 FRENCH, ENGLISH AND AMERICAN PANTS AND VESTS, 4 LARGE VARIETY. YOUTHS SUITS BOM eveessesssssssssssnsennssnsneee ee G§S to $16 UITS FEOM...... moe ssreeeecsesamaee@ 4 to $10 OVEBOOATS, CAPES AND GLENGARY COATS IN GREAT VARIETY AND PRICES. CALL AND SEE. 87 Bemember name and number. A. STRAUS, POPULAR CLOTHIER, be 11 Pa. ave., bet. 10 and lth streets. N OoOTIOE! BEDEMPTION OF 5.20 BONDS OF 1862. , 1871. feoSw ‘ ANRUAL SALE 40,000 COPIES. acmated | Agri! Movs Yoay tape Stel ota DRY_ GOODS. SILKS FROM avo - tnvite all who Uke to Sees aoe eel we have fered from $1 te BS per _el2-aBt kecstit A® ELEGANT ASSORTMENT OF We bave jr opened. stock BA TINS, EPS. TM Paras rots, sow TiSPeae nels ccna is desirable for the preseut aud approaching psason, Also, VERY LARGE STOCK OF SHAWLs, comprising the newest and best styles to be found in ‘this market. ALso, The largest assortment of PIN'S Mi GOODS, of the best Tabriauas’ ie found this stds ot New York city. S7 ONE PRICE ONLY. Ww. M. & BROS., 0c 12-d3thocst 919 Pennsylvania avenue. i 939 Pexw. Ave., petwann Orm ann 107m ere, Mr. Shackelford, our agent in Burope, keope an constantly applied eit # LYONS BLACK GROS GRAIN SILKS he best Hs badawine eres in want of good BLACK SILES for sate should, in justice to t! ives, our stock. Siaaiaae sl coach ee ped ay of Pd Silk," ig ice for each Sie oan pur- .CK ALPACAS and MOHAIRS, — Ta “Bi and“ Beaver” » affalo’ Mio ate Agents Sut, the aes RCVEALS oO a ‘s bw Al all of these very ee ees ital. and . None ‘are genuine. PARIS KID pr anlaenersyeerts We offer f-tog, ns of the de found of PARIS KID a con = a1} L HE t of our portation. aS two, three ‘ail olors to match sults.” Good RED GLOVES Ba alr, i Stock pow fm store of gree Sess ais Vent ncaa — Kerchiefse&e., ae. S2-ONE PRICE ONLY in plain figures on each article. ocd-trd JOSEPH J. MAY. oo CARPETS! CARPETS! MESSRS. WOLFORD & SHILBERG Tesire to call the attention of the general public to 01 ATTRACTIVE STOCK or FALL CARPETS, At the following low rates: Handecme icy best ENGLISH BRUSSELS, from $1.25 to $1.20. esr designs in THREE-PLYS, from $1.45 to Splendid INGRAINS, from 60 to 87% cents. eft ‘wool TAPESTRY FINISH, from 9% cents to Heayy ALL LIST, at 60 cents. ‘The best HEMPS, at 25 cents. And an elegant variety of 4-4 to 10-4 FLO@R OIL C1 OTHE, ranging from 4 conts up. cE gelag STAIR OLL CLOTHS, low as 18 cents yard. STAIR CARPETS, low as 573¢ conta. RUGS, MATTINGS, &., &e. A very heavy stock of FOREIGN AND DOMESTIO DBY-GOODS, ts offered at the LOWEST MAREET FIGURES. sold Spr cont. tes that at any house a anak A call is respecifully solicited before purchasing elsewhere. S7 REMEMBER, THE AROADE, 437 treet, Islant, oct-tr "ae Dand NEY. TO-DAY .—DRESS GOO! All Wool S73 . and Nay gogpeme nay spams Heavy, New ®. FLANNE! yd > CLOVES NOTIONS at ior tv : ONE PRICE. BOGAN & bat! sols-tr 1018 and Toa0 Thar v. BOOTS AND SHOES. PA n00re as Ff LADIES, GENTLEMEN, MISSES, BOYS, AND CHILDREN. We are daily in receipt of the most approved styles FALL AND WINTER WEAR, Gotten =p with a particular regard to quality and ‘workmanship. AT PRICES TO SUIT THE TIMES, HL. BURNS & 0o., se%0-tr 903 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUB. STOVES, &. Att Bicu? HO? BLAST COOK, Avuue AND FLAG DEPOT. JOHN C. HOGAN, of Awnings. Tents, Horse and Sects se SE ot over y ¥ store ow BuOVA u heim YT removed fr @ his olf place of dusiness, No. trae Swine SLishitwine kovs, SPkAS p wanepo SE-FURNISHING GOODS ani VA- oa eat IDER 7” T=" AND AWNINGS, STENTS, for Seie oF Bout for Camp Mocttaes, INGS for Public and Private Balls and Par- M. G. COPELAND, Dealer in Awning Materiais, sont 43 A™Toxr FISHER, FIRST CLASS SCOURER, 18 Orn Sreeer, Orromts Patert Ovriex, latest tm aoa ctenting the prer ING GOODS. scription in the Farnt- ‘Sth and D streets R.W. jelttm* aaa ASS3. osc SOE weet T Riga gs AND Hany? street. &@ BROB., BRIAGE, 00K NA spidey BOOKS, STATIONERY, &o. JEW BOOKS RECEIVED AND FOR SALE AT SHILLINGTON'S BOOKSTOR: Chatterbox for 1571, Tinstrated and handsomely bonnd. Writien for little people. Prices $1 2 Handsome Laurruce Rolling Stone. By Price Seed Time and Harvest. Tray ut Mine of Fritz The Fall of Man; or, The itlae. Price & cepts Palaces and Prisons. By Mra. Ann Stephens. Price @1 Ww. “Aldine.” The handsome journal in the - Cheap English Novels. Containing 16 jiinstrations, Hush Money, Ageinst Tide, sua For Woman's Bake. Price 4 cents each. lustrated monthly NOTE, LETTER and CAP PAPERS, and every- thing in the STATIONERY line, choap J. SHILLING TON, oct Corner 4% street and Pa. avenue. — EW BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG PEOPLE beautiful quarto volume, coutsin- ing uearly five hundred pictures, aud the Yer of reading matter for the litre folks, $2. dren's Sunday Alb: by the author of Catch a Sunbeam,” hh upward of one hi Siy Btestrations, € ‘Cringle and liver Optic, C, rd and Onward serics, Judge's Pets: Stories of a Family aud ite Friends, a delightful little book, by Bd fastrated bs &, Bens p. S13, Laie Fe iy Alexiua B. White, $1.25. My You the author of “Letters Everywhere,” wt stlbonette illustrations by Cousin % cent Weeks, 3 ; ictures and Short Stories, by Uncle Job MacPonacd: 01 Ww the W ing, by mre 8 a Boys,” &c., $1.00. Oar B crovtaiz ing stories of the ods of travel, wonderful things, trees, 1.25. mb onewkay from India, a book for girls, by 4 bey al dil: azzlen, me, &c., edited by Oliver Optic; profusely illustrated. PHILP &@ SOLONONS, BOOKSELLEES AND STATIONERS, 912 Pennsyivants avenue. PARIS UNDER THE COMMUNE: ‘The House in Town. A joel to portumi+ ties.” By Miss Warner: $1 25. ‘The Bea omer. By Bryant; now olition; 3 Yols The Bishops and other Bible “Commentary. By Clergy of the Anglican Charch: vol iystematic 8 -. By Charles Hoda 4 TLLIAM BALLANTINE, wenth strest, _e38 Intelligencer Building. N OTICE. ENING OF A NEW STATIONERY STO! OPERAD BLANK Dow! MANUFACTORY. = ~clane fair for cash. % NG, ENGRAVING. PRINTING AND BINDING DONE TO ORDER, blic are invited to call and examine our . N.F. FRENCH Under National Metropolitan Bank, ‘and next door to Jay Cooke & Co.\s, erlt-tr ‘ashington, D. 0. MEDICAL, &c. PCT ME IN MY LITTLE BED—Bed be hanged, g0 and see old Dr. DARBY. 115 4% street.1wo doors from the Avenue. He will “shape” you up tm ck, withows change of diet or hinderance fr