3^^ 



THE FORTUNATE ISLES. 



has not dreamed of the Fortunate Iiles? 



ho h« not sighed for the m 

 Inly soagbt Id the purple \ 



icnr, from dawn to dawn, 



rseen in the evening light, 

 rooght to their eager lips the cry- 

 e Isles ! the Isles are In sight I" 



My brother was quite fast 





iterrupted, but I was not sur- 

 prised, when May said to me, that night, " Mr. M. 

 has asked me to ride with him to-morrow." 

 " Are you going '{" " Tea." And she did. 

 I must hurry over this part of my narrative, for 

 it fills me with sorrow and remorse, that I allowed 

 dazzled by outward nppear- 

 solemu responsibility of 



myself to become 

 ancc as to forget that 

 guardianship over my 



•, (for 



Lut night a spirit s] 



d the birds of promise appear- 

 To oars I to oars I 



e boldlj on to the clouded shore 



llorloos tby rest m those gardens of 1 

 i, Fortunate Isles ! 0, brightening n 



Stpr^Tfl!,^ 



OUR MAY.-A SKETCH. 



She was a lovely girl I my sister May — and 

 whenever she Bwept up the broad aisle of the vil- 

 lage ohnrch, there were many lingering glances 

 bestowed upon her; sometimes, I would hear with 

 pride, the whispered ejaculation, " how beautiful 

 she is!" But one Sabbath afternoon a strange 

 gentleman occupied a neighboring pew, aud I 

 knew by the prolonged gaze of those handsome 

 block eyes, that my pretty sister had made another 

 conquest. She did not appear wholly ignorant of 

 this, for when I mentioned it to her, after our 

 return home, a conscious blush accompanied her 

 words. 



"Addib Williams told me, yesterday, that she 

 expected her cousin Edsell Mertos every hour." 



" Indeed ! — he is from New York then ; I 

 thought that his manners bore the city polish." 



" He did not appear like a/op." 



"I inferred from this remark, that the gentle- 



1 May 



divulge. "This mutual adm 





uldc 

 i will r 





s right, 



for the next afternoon our friend Al_._ . 

 upon us, accompanied by her cousin. There was 

 a rosy, wavering color upon May's cheeks, which 

 made her appear more lovely than usual when she 

 was introduced to the city gentleman, and I saw 

 that her trim, " mouse-likt " slipper, and delicate 

 tapering hand, also atlwicted their due share of 



Mr. Merton was a very fascinating young man 

 and I thought that h* felt conscious of this power- 

 as what man or woman does not who possesses it? 

 He was very wctal, and soon made us feel at ease 

 in his society— for his manners were free from 

 ostentation or a desire to appear our superior. I 

 liked him, and May's unsophisticated heart was 

 captivated by bis marked attentions to her charm- 

 ing self. The following morning she bounded into 

 my room with a dainty note in her hand, and 

 there was a joyous light beaming from her blue 

 eyes. " Sister ! we are all invited to a Pic-hic 

 to-morrow afternoon. Adbie says that it is quite 

 i sudden affair, for they want to make Mr. Mek- 

 KMra visit agreeable. It is to be quite s<Uct, too. 

 The An AU ' s are invited, and Squire EdmOmd'h 

 young p e0 p le . the Gokdons, Eloerk, and bull 

 Ralway, with her cousins, who are down from 

 Utica ou a visit. That is all beside us." 



Mr. Wu.,.u„' s fArm „ as a q , mrtor of B mUe 

 from our quiet country village, and his beautiful 

 house was situated in a grove> upon tlie bank3 of 

 a until lake. Here the p ic . nIc was beld the fo ,. 

 lowing day; and for on to o, ir enjoymi 

 greater than anticipation had pictured. It was a 

 bright June day, and, looking back upon it now, 

 I do not wonder that my memory framed it and 

 hung itopon her walls. 



Brother Tom drew me aside once during the 



afternoon, and whispered—" Our May is the belle 



o-day. Don't she look like a dainty butterfly i n 



;be delicate lace trimmings?" 



a quite young,) should not 

 and advise her in time. Mr. 

 wealthy and belonged to an 

 I felt that May was good 

 enough, and beautiful enough, to belong to it also. 

 He remained at bis uncle's nearly a month, but 

 every day there was some pleasure excursion 

 planned, which brought Hay into his society, and 

 before he left for New York they were betrothed 

 lovers. 



I felt pleased and gratified with this match, 

 although my woman's intuition bad discovered, at 

 times, some traits of character in Edsell Merton 

 which inspired nameless fears for my sister's 

 happiness; but, after all, he carried about him 

 such a charmed atmosphere that these disagreea- 

 ble impressions ever melted away in the social 

 warmth of his presence. 



The summer flew by upon swift wings, and one 

 September afternoon May came to me with on 

 open letter in her band. Smiles, tears and blushes 

 swept over her fair face, when she said — "Oh 

 Sister! Edsell is coming out next month, and he 

 wants your consent to take me back to New York 

 as his bride." 



These words fell into my heart like icy stones, 

 and I clasped her in my arms, while a sharp cry 

 broke from my lips. 



" Do you feel so badly P can't you trust me with 

 him/" 



you happy. 



Preparations for the approaching wedding 

 occupied all of our time, and I had no leisure 

 moments in which to indulge sad reflections, Bui 

 when the marriage morning came, and I heard 

 those solemn vows uttered which nothing but 

 death could break, a wild, sod yearning 

 me that this would prove a dream. After I had 



the carriage window, until lost to view by a bend 

 in the road, my bead fell upon Tois'n shoulder, 

 I burst into tears, exclaiming, " We are left a 



Time passed on, and every week letters arrived 

 from the city, telling of the young wife's happi 

 and I began to feel somewhat re-assured 

 but when May came out to visit ns during tht 

 Holidays, I noticed that her gayety was ofter 

 gave her an appearance of levity 



accompanied ber — and I observed that occasionally 

 he bestowed much attention upon May; at these 

 times the forced smile relaxed into an expression 

 of quiet, subdued happiness, as if she feared 

 break the spell, but when her husband became 

 gloomy and abstracted, the old 

 back to ber face, and she strov 

 his restraint. Poor May was a 



Hern 







readily conjectured what di 



— and this time I saw her depart 



anguish which Tom read 



"What 



is the matter, 



ister? You look as if 



Edsell w 



as carrying ' on 



r May' to the church- 









" Do you think that she 



S happy ?" 



"Why, 



yes!— how can 



she be otherwise with 



such a de 



oted husband." 





Iwasn 



t surprised at his reply, for brother did 







uition, and I forbore to 



U-pref:: b 



s mind with my 





Spring 



came, and with 



it Bweet May Mei:thn ; 



but 0, BO 



changed I "I longed to see the green 



dear old 



smiles," murmured the pale lips, while her slight 

 form tottered into my arms. 



" You shall always stay here, darling, and I cast 

 a reproachful glance at Edsell, who shrank from 

 it. When we were alone together, I asked, with a 

 bitter tone, why he had not informed me of our 

 May's evident decline. He Beemed confused and 

 made an unintelligible reply. 



Business required Edsei.l's presence in the city 

 at this time, and I saw him depart without regret. 

 When he gave May the "good-bye kiss," she 

 wrapped her thin arms around his neck and looked 

 up into his eyes with that meek, imploring gaze 

 which interprets unappreciated devotion. I sighed, 

 aud thought of Tom's careless words. Oh ! they 



The weeks went slowly by, and the uncomplain- 

 ing invalid read her husband's occasional letters 

 Willi fondness, treasuring each word of endear- 

 ment. She never reproached him, or uttered one 

 disparaging word ogaitist his conduct ; hut some- 

 times, during her fever-dreams, she would say, 

 entreatiugly, " 0, Edsell ! you did love me once. 

 I try to make home pleasant. Do not go away this 

 evening!" 1 always avoided speaking of liim, for 

 it would only have embittered the closing hours of 

 her life. Death had marked her for bis prey— and 

 a telegraphic dispatch to New York brought 

 Edsbll Mehton just in time to hear the dying 

 words of his angel-wifo. There was some remorse 

 visible upon the countenance of the worldly man 

 as he gazed down into the large, mournful eyes 

 whoso brightness had faded with bis love; and 

 when they closed forever, a deep groan escaped 



Webuiied "ourMAY" in the shade of a weep- 

 ing willow, where its slendo- green fingers can 

 drop baptismal* upon ber grave, bat the light 

 went out of my heart when the clods fell upon her 

 coffin-lid. EnaRLX seemed lo mourn very bitterly, 

 but I knew that his fickle, unprincipled nature 

 would soon oust off all ririHTubnincr. of that death- 

 white face, and the little, still" hands crossed over 

 a heart which he hud broktn. 



A CHRISTMAS SKETCH. 



"Wire, I declare it's too bad; here I've been 



working bard all tie week, and after pojing out 

 all I have earned, I am still a dollar in debt, and 

 tomorrow will be Christmas." 



"Joe, you must not be discouraged; we must 

 do our duty, trust in Providence, and be con- 

 tented." 



"It's easy enough to tulk about contentment; 

 but when we get up in the morning, and see the 

 disappointed luces of our children, who have not, 

 like other children, received their Christmas pre- 

 sents, I'm afraid we shall be far from contented." 



"But I am prepared for that; I have been doing 

 something myself, this week, as yon shall present- 

 ly see;" and-going to an old bureau, she took 

 from one of the drawers some money, and hand- 

 ing it to her husband, continued, "There's my 

 pay for making a coat for Squire Joneb ; you may 

 finish paying up with part of it, and with the real 

 you can buy some presents for the children." 



With pleasure depicted in his countenance, he 

 called her one of the best of wives, and taking his 

 hat departed on his mission. 



The persons we have so abruptly introduced tc 

 the reader, were Joseph Stanton and his wife. 

 Ten years before, Joseph Stanton, then a young 

 blacksmith of twenty-three, bad fallen in love 

 with and married Mary Williams against her 

 parents' wishes. Her father, knowing Staxtox 

 to be awild, dissipated fellow, very justly consid- 

 ered that he was not worthy of being trusted with 

 the happiness of his daughter. But Mary had 

 perceived beneath his rough exterior a kind and 

 generous heart, and had married him, thinking 

 that she would control and change bis habits, and 

 for her disobedience had been disinherited by 

 her father, v v 



chant in B . Unabli 



Stanton had removed with his wife to the village 

 where they now resided, and reformed. For a 

 number of years he worked on at his trade, and 

 accumulated quite a sum of money by his own in- 

 dustry and the economy of his wife, when there 

 came a crash among business men, and one morn- 

 ing he awoke to find himself pennyless ; but with 



sympathizing wife, be continued to work away at 

 the anvil, though the times were hard, and ob- 

 tained but a meager subsi6tance until the Christ- 

 mas Eve when he is introduced to the reader. 



The next morning, as Joseph Stanton and his 

 wife were seated around the breakfast table, sur- 

 rounded by the happy faces of their children, they 

 were startled by bearing some one knocking at 

 the door. It was instantly opened, and a richly 

 dressed stranger entered and took the proffered 



" Do I have the honor of addressing Mr. Joseph 

 Stakton''" he asked, as soon as be became seated. 

 " That is my name, sir," answered Stanton. 

 "You were formerly a resident of B , were 



msidered the richest i 



.nd have documents here wbic 



there had been ere 

 dwelling bouse in 

 resided, but who 

 nobody had been abl 



to the date of my sketch, 

 a large and magnificent 

 village where Stanton 

 is built for, or who by, 

 tscertain. The workmen, 

 who were all strangers, bad begun the work and 

 finished it, the bouBe had been filled with costly 

 furniture, and still the prying villagers obtained 

 no clue to the mysterious structure. 



Joseph Stanton took the papers bauded him by 

 the lawyer, and found them to be two deeds— one 

 for the strange dwelling, the other for the shop, 

 where, the day before, be had been a hired work- 

 man. Hardly crediting his senses, he asked the 

 stranger to explain. 



" I cannot, now," said he, " but if you and your 

 family will get ready and go up to the house with 

 me, I will make it all plain to yon." 



Soon they were all ready, and a few minutes' 

 walk brought ibem to their destination, where 

 they were surprised to see a smoke ascending 

 from the chimney of the hitherto unoccupied 

 house. As they ascended the steps, the door was 

 thrown open, and an old lady an 

 advanced to meet them. With the 

 mation, "My Mother," Maby threw herself into 

 the old lady's arms, where she was soon sobbing 

 like a child. 



Mr. Williajis, bearing of the reformation of 

 Joseph, and his untiring industry, bad relented, 

 and concluded to spend the remainder of his days 

 with Mary, who was now his 

 a happy dgy for them all, and 

 ing, tbey invited their friends 

 old-fasbioued " bouse warmit 

 gamboled about the room with his new-found 

 grandchildren, and with (hem seemed to lir 

 again the days of his youth. C. H. Wor 

 f., 1869. 



>nly child. 



' Mr. Wn.i 



MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 



Ill-breeding. 



CARPENTERS' PROBLEM. 



ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &C, EN NO. 518. 



iograpblcal Enigma :- 



EXTRA INDUCEMENTS 



TO AGENTS AND AM, WHO FORM CUIUS BAR] I 



«, ise vAll give to each oj th 

 SONS sending the, firet liite q 

 ;rly Subscribers to tht. Eobj 



StiH More Liberal!—/ 



UNABRIDGED DICTIONARY- New Pictorial 

 Edition, containing 1,5 00 HI ua tr at ions.— 



PUBLISHER'S SPECIAL NOTICES. 



ttJ it trn& burner. 



PERMANENT INVESTMENTS. 



Wn find the following commercial disst 

 n the financial column of the Independent 

 Investing in champagne at £.- a bottle— 



g in tobacco and cigars 

 i barrels of good llour 



Investing : 

 ill pay for 



Music. — Music is the soprano, the femini 

 rinciple, the heart of tbe universe; becau 

 t is the voice of love— because it is the bi^h.-sl 

 type and aggregate expression of passionate at- 

 on, therefore it pervades all space, and trans- 

 cends all being, like a divino influx. What tone 

 the word, what expression is to form, what 

 affection is to thought, wiiat tbe heart is to the 

 , what intention is to argument, what insight 

 policy, what religion is to philosophy, what 

 moral iulluence is to power, what woman is to 

 an, is music to the universe. Flexible, ymceful 

 id free, it pervades all things, and is limited to 

 3ne. It is not poetry, but the soul of poetry; it 

 not mathematics, hut it is in numbers, lik.i li.u 

 onious proportion in cast-iron; it is not paint- 

 g, but it shines through colors and gives them 

 their tone; it is not dancing, but it makes all 

 graceful motion; it is not architecture, but the 

 ouea take their places in harmony with 

 id stand in "petrified music." In the words of 

 r-ttini, "Every art is the body of music, w hich 

 the soul or every art; and so is music, too, the 

 soul of love, which also answer* uol foi 

 Tor it is the c 



rilTco 



'drinks" one year, $100— $100 

 i daily and fifteen weekly peri 



in theatrical 



till purchase an excellent library, 



in a fast horse §500—400 acres good 



a good improved 

 Panics, hard ti 

 temper, pool 



i try farm, 



bettings and 



, 85,UO0-*5,OOO 



, red faces, bad 



hie future, may 



lajority of "financiers," in making calcul; 

 "i the importations, e 



>)uet"r. 





r mind that; many people c 



allth-.u- I, 



"What is tbe best guard against any uttuckr 

 id a pupil iu (be art of self-ddWicu to l IM 

 lcber-ti noted pujiili* 1 - *' h-eep u ■ 

 your bead," wa-sitie unexpected uud significant 



3ggSB« 





MOORE'S RURAL MARKER, 



Agricultural, Literary and family Weekly, 



