THE BROOK BY THE WAY. 
BY JKAX FLOYD. 
Oh, little brook, why do you sing and shine 
At the side of t he dusty way. 
Where never a flower or n stgub or a vine 
Comes up, for the fairest May? 
Where np and down, the whole year long. 
Move to and fro the feet of the throng, 
Who, in the press of work and cure. 
For thee or t hy song, huth thought to spare? 
That silvery current should laugh and leap 
Through some glen lu the woodland old, 
Where fringing moss to the brink should creep 
And the Illy her heart unfold. 
And into rhythm some minstrel heart 
Should weave for the world the poem thou art; 
But when shall poet by witters stay 
That waste their charm on the dull highway ? 
Out laughed the little brook, louder still: 
** Oh, but the world Is free! 
Lf none have thought for the wayside rill, 
What luaUercth It to me l 
1 can bide my titno for my meed of fame. 
And 1 sing and shine as J go, the same, 
By the dull highway by the greenwood’s shrine; 
For 'tis my nature to sing and shine ! ” 
TO THE ROSE, 
The star of love on evening's brow hath smiled. 
Showering her golden Influence with her beam; 
Hushed is the ocean wave, and soft and mild 
The breathing zephyr ; lull’d Is every stream, 
Placid and gentle as vestal's dream. 
The bard of night, the angel of the spring. 
O’er the wild minstrels of the grove supreme. 
Near Ills betrothed flower expands Ills wing- 1 
Wake, lovely rose, awake, and hoar thy poet sing ! 
The night is past; wake,Quean of every flower, 
Breathing the soul of spring in thy perfume; 
The pearls of morning are thy wedding dower, 
Thy bridal garment I* a robe of bloom! 
Wake, lovely flower! for now the winter’s gloom 
Hath wept Itself in April showers away ; 
Wake, lovely (lower! and bid thy audios assume 
A kindred brightness with the rosy ray 
That streaks the floating .clouds with the young 
blush of day. 
|j>torus for Unlit lists. 
THE EMPEROR’S NEW SUIT, 
BY HANS CHIUSTIAN AN DU USE NT. 
Many years ago there lived an emperor, 
who cared so very much about having new 
clothes, that he spent all his money merely 
for the sake of being very smartly dressed. 
He diil not care much about his troops; lie 
did not care either about going to the play 
or driving out, unless it were that he might 
show his new clothes. lie had a new suit 
for every hour in the day; and, as one usual¬ 
ly says of a king or emperor, he held a privy 
council,so of him it was said, his majesty sut 
in council with his tailors. 
In the large town where he resided people 
led a merry life. Day after day fresh visit¬ 
ors arrived at court; one day, too, a couple 
of swindlers, who called themselves first-rate 
weavers, made their appearance. They pre¬ 
tended that they were able to weave the 
richest staffs, in which not only the colors 
and patterns were extremely beautiful, but 
that the clothes made of such stuffs possessed 
the wonderful property of remaining invisi¬ 
ble to him who was unfit for the office he 
held, or who was extremely silly. 
“What capital clothes they must be!” 
thought the emperor. “ If I had but such a 
suit, I could directly find out what people 
in my empire were not equal to their office; 
and, beside, T should be able to distinguish 
the clever from the stupid. By Jove, 1 
must have some of this stuff made directly 
forme!” And so he ordered large sums of 
money to he given to the two swindlers, that 
they might set to work immediately. 
The men erected two looms, and did as if 
they worked very diligently; hut in reality 
they had got nothing on the loom. They 
boldly denmded the finest silk and gold 
thread, put it all in their own pockets, and 
worked away at the empty loom till quite 
late at night. 
“ 1 should like to know how the two weav¬ 
ers are gelling on witli my stuff,” said the 
emperor, one day, to himself; but he was 
rather embarrassed when lie remembered 
that a silly fellow, or one unfitted for bis 
office, would not be able to see the stuff. 
’Tis true, he thought, as far as regarded bitti- 
self, there was no risk whatever; but yet he 
preferred sending some one else, to bring 
him intelligence of the two weavers, and 
how they were getting on, before he went 
himself. Everybody in the whole town had 
heard of the wonderful property that this 
stuff was said to possess, and all were curious 
to know how clever or foolish their neigh¬ 
bors might be found to be. 
“I will send my worthy old minister,” 
said the emperor at last, after much consid¬ 
eration ; “ lie will be able to say how the 
staff looks better than anybody; for he is a 
man of understanding, and no one can be 
found more fitted than lie." 
So the worthy old minister went to the 
room where the two swindlers were work¬ 
ing away with all their might and main. 
“Lord help me!” thought the old man, 
opening his eyes as wide as possible; “ why 
I can’t see the least thing whatever on the 
loom 1" But he took care not to give voice 
to his thoughts. 
The swindlers begged him most politely 
to have the goodness to approach nearer to 
the looms; and then pointing to the empty 
frame, asked him if the colors were not of 
great beauty. And the poor old minister 
looked, and looked, and coujd see nothing 
whatever, for, indeed, there was nothing at 
all there. “ Bless me!” thought he to him¬ 
self, “am 1, then, really a simpleton? Well, 
1 never thought so, and nobody dare know 
it. 1 not fit for my office! .No, nothing on 
earth shall make me say that I have not seeu 
the stuff!” 
“ Well, sir,” said one of the swindlers, still 
working busily, “you don’t say if the stuff 
pleases you or not.” 
“Oh, beautiful, beautiful !•—the work is 
admirable!” said the old minister, looking at 
the beam through his spectacles. “ This pat¬ 
tern and these colors—well, well; I shall not 
fall to tell the emperor that both are most 
beautiful." 
“ Well, we shall be delighted if you do so,” 
said the swindlers, and named the different 
colors and patterns which were in the stuff'. 
The old minister listened attentively to what 
they said, in order that lie might be able to 
repeat all to the emperor. 
The swindlers then asked for more money, 
and silk, and gold thread, which they said 
they wanted to finish the piece they had be¬ 
gun. But they put, as before, all that was 
given to them into their own pocket, ami 
still continued to work with apparent dili¬ 
gence at the empty loom. 
Some time after the emperor sent another 
officer to see how the work was getting on, 
and if the piece of broadcloth would soon be 
finished. But lie fared like the other. He 
stared at the loom from every side; but as 
there was nothing there, of course he could 
only see the empty frame. 
“ Does the stuff not please you as much 
as it did the minister V” asked the men, 
making the same gestures as before, and 
talking of splendid colors and of patterns 
which did not exist. 
“ Stupid 1 certainly am not” thought the 
new commissioner ; “ then it must be that I 
am not fiLted for the lucrative office. That 
were a good joke! However, no one dare 
even suspect such a thing.” And so he be¬ 
gan praising the stuff that he could not see, 
and told the two swindlers how pleased he 
was to behold such beautiful colors and such 
charming patterns. “ Indeed, your majesty,” 
said he to the emperor, on his return, “ the 
staff which the weavers are making is extra¬ 
ordinarily fine." 
The magnificent brocade that the emperor 
was having woven at It is own expense was 
the talk of (he whole town. 
The emperor wished to see the costly stuff 
while it was on the loom ; so, accompanied 
by a chosen train of courtiers, among whom 
were the two trusty men who had so admired 
the work, off ho went to the two cunning 
cheats. As soon as they heard of the em¬ 
peror’s approach, they began working with 
all diligence, although as yet there was not 
a single thread on the loom. 
“ Is it not magnificent?” said the two offi¬ 
cers of the crown. “ Will your majesty only 
look? What a charming pattern! what 
beautiful colors !” said they, pointing to the 
empty frames, for they thought the others 
could really see the stuff 
“ What’s the meaning of this?” said the 
emperor to himself, “1 see nothing! This 
is a terrible matter ! Am I a simpleton, or 
am 1 not fit to bo emperor? Why, that, 
were the worst that could happen to me. 
Oh, charming; the stuff is really charming,” 
said he then, “ 1 approve it highly!" And 
he smiled graciously, ami examined the 
empty looms minutely ; for he would not for 
all in the world say that he could not see 
what his two officers had so much praised. 
The whole suite strained their eyes to dis¬ 
cover something on the looms, but they 
could sec as little as the others. At the 
same time, in order to please their master, 
the emperor, they all cried, “ Oh, how beau¬ 
tiful I” and counseled his majesty to have 
new robes made out of this magnificent 
stuff, for the grand procession which was 
about to take place. “Excellent, charm¬ 
ing!" was echoed from mouth to mouth, 
and all were extremely pleased. The em¬ 
peror was as satisfied as his courtiers, and 
conferred on each of the cheats an order, 
which they were to wear in their button¬ 
hole, and gave them the title of “ ICnights 
of the Most Honorable Order of the Loom." 
The night preceding the day on which the 
procession was to take place, the two men 
staid up all night, and had sixteen candles 
burning, so that everybody might sec how 
they worked to get the emperor’s new dress 
ready in proper time. They pretended to 
unroll the stuff from the loom; they cut in 
the air with their scissors, and sewed with 
needles that had no thread. “ Now, then,” 
said they, “ the emperor’s new suit is ready 
at last." 
The emperor then made his appearance in 
the chamber of his two knights of the most 
honorable order of the loom, accompanied 
by his chamberlains of tile highest rank; and 
the two cheats held up their arms as though, 
they had something in their hands, and said: 
“Here are your majesty's knee breeches, 
here is the coat, and here the mantle. The 
whole suit is as light as a cobweb; and when j 
one is dressed one would almost fancy one 
had nothing on; but that is just the beauty 
of this stuff!” 
“Of course!” said all the courtiers, al¬ 
though not a single one of them could see 
anything of the clothes. 
“'Will your imperial majesty most gra¬ 
ciously be pleased to undress? We will then 
try on the new things before the glass.” 
The emperor allowed himself to he un¬ 
dressed, and then the two cheats did exactly 
as if each one helped him on with an article 
of dress, while his majesty turned round him¬ 
self on all sides before the mirror. 
“ How well the dress becomes your majes¬ 
ty ! and how well all fits! What a pattern! 
What colors 1 This is, indeed, a clress worthy 
of a king!” 
“The canopy which is to be borne above 
your majesty in the procession is in readi¬ 
ness without," announced the chief master of 
ceremonies. 
“ I am quite ready,” replied the emperor. 
“Do my new tilings sit well?” asked he, 
turning round once more before (lie looking 
glass, in order that it might appear that he 
examined the dress very minutely. 
The pages who were to carry the emper¬ 
or’s train felt about on the ground as if to 
lift up the end of the mantle, and did exact¬ 
ly as if they were carrying something, for 
they also did not wish to betray simplicity 
or unfitness for their post. 
And so the emperor walked on under the 
high canopy, through the streets of the me¬ 
tropolis, and all the people in the streets and 
at the windows cried out, “On, how beauti¬ 
ful the emperor’s new clress is 1 wlmt a splen¬ 
did train ! and the mantle, how well it sits! ” 
In short there was nobody but wished to 
cheat himself into the belief that he saw the 
highly valued clothes, for otherwise lie would 
have to acknowledge himself either a sim¬ 
pleton or an awkward fellow. As yet none 
of the emperor’s new dresses had met with 
such approval as the suit made by the two 
weavers. 
“ But the emperor has nothing on 1” said 
a little child. “ Ah, hear the voice of inno¬ 
cence!" said the father, and one person 
whispered to another what the child had 
said. 
“ But he really has nothing on I ” ex¬ 
claimed at last all the people. This vexed the 
emperor,for lie felt that they were right,but he 
thought—“ Howe'^NL I must bear the thing 
to the end!” A pages placed them¬ 
selves further fr<>i®pt, as it they were car¬ 
rying u train whic’i did not even exist. 
-■♦♦♦- 
HOW TO WINA_G00D WIFE. 
Mr. Herbert de Browne sat in his lux¬ 
urious bachelor establishment in Blank street, 
and pondered deeply. The subject ot bis 
cogitations was a wife, or rather, how to get 
one. There were enough young ladies who 
would bo glad to bless their lucky stars for 
the privilege of becoming mistress of his 
home, as he well knew; but he also fell tol¬ 
erably well assured the home was all they 
cared for. For the fortune they would wed 
its owner. 
“ Deuce lake the money 1” he exclaimed. 
“ I wish I’d never had a farthing, and then—. 
But botheration, then I should have been 
too poor to marry any way. Why couldn’t 
I have bad just wealth enough for all my 
wants, and nothing more? I’ll foil them, 
though, the mean adventuresses!” 
A furious pull at the bell-rope brought the 
housekeeper to the room in a hurry. 
“ Pack up your traps, Mrs. Hinkle,” he ex¬ 
claimed, abruptly, “ for I am going to close 
up the house." 
It was evident he had come to some con¬ 
clusion. 
“Shut up the house, Mr. de Browne!” 
ejaculated the housekeeper, almost believing 
she had lost her reason. " Why, such a thing 
lias not occurred since your lamented uncle 
took possession, fi ve-and-forty years ago 1” 
“ That, makes no difference. I’m master 
here now, and I shall close it for the pres¬ 
ent. Meanwhile your pay can still go on, 
and that of such domestics as you consider 
indispensable. Have you no relatives you 
wish to visit?" he inquired. 
That settled it. The proffer of continued 
pay removed Mrs. Rinkle’a scruples quite 
effectually. She then remembered she had 
some friends she had not seen for years. 
Three days later, Mr. Herbert de Browne 
was safely domiciled in a quiet lodging- 
house, and shortly afterward he began to 
sell his diamond rings and seals, and other 
paraphernalia of fashionable life, as well as 
dress himself in plainer clothes. A rumor 
that his property had been lost through an 
unlucky speculation was soon afloat. He lost 
friends rapidly. By twos and threes they 
ceased to know him as they met him in the 
street. He only laughed and snapped his 
fingers at them behind their backs. 
Had this adversity been real, he would not 
have felt like laughing. 
Then came the time when this circle of 
acquaintances got narrowed down to three. 
But three of his former friends still clung to 
him, true in adversity 
It js no wonder he grew so misanthropic. 
Out in the street one day he met a carriage 
containing some of his former acquaintances, 
who had been absent from the city since he 
had closed bis house. He thought they would 
not notice him, but each inmate of the car¬ 
riage bowed politely, as of old. 
“They have not heard the news!” he mut¬ 
tered cynically. 
He was mistaken. That night the owner 
of the carriage came to see him. 
“ Bather close quarters, my friend,” he said 
as he took a calm survey of Herbert’s not 
very pretentious surroundings. 
“ Pretty close, that’s a fact," said Mr. de 
Browne, icily. “ But since 1 lost my property 
—of which I suppose you haven’t heard—I 
have been quite economical. F 
“ But I have heard,” cried his auditor, ab¬ 
ruptly, “ and this is why 1 came. 1 knew you 
needed friends now, if ever, and the fact is— 
well—my daughter, sir. I mean, I came to 
offer you the position of head clerk in my 
counting house. Will you accept it?” 
“Ahem! Well, I’ll think of it. But it is a 
long way from my lodgings.” 
"Deuce take your lodgings! You can 
board in my family as a — well, as a sort of 
guest, you know.” 
Herbert looked him over closely. John 
Bandard was a wealthy man—very wealthy 
he was called—and in his face there was 
nothing to warrant, the suspicion that he 
had learned Herbert’s secret, and wished to 
curry favor by aiding him while under an 
apparent cloud; so that idea was speedily 
dismissed. Of course, he quickly thanked 
him, and accepted. 
Once cosily snuggled in the Bandard man¬ 
sion, it was not long before he wondered 
why he had not noticed Susie Bandard be¬ 
fore. 
She did not seem to feel above him, not¬ 
withstanding the wide difference in their 
positions, and treated him as cordially— 
more cordially, he thought—than before the 
change in his fortunes. He would not have 
been human had he not learned to love her. 
The climax came when she gave a grand 
party. Then, before the elite of the city, she 
did not hesitate to receive attentions from 
him, on which hut one construction could 
be placed. He thought her quite a heroine, 
and asked for no further proof that site could 
love him. 
The next afternoon they met in her 
father's library, where he waited to see her. 
“ Susie,” he said, its soon as the usual cour¬ 
tesies had been exchanged, " I come to you 
this morning to learn my late. 1 know the 
difference in our positions, and would not 
urge you—only let your heart decide. My 
heart I lay before you." 
She blushed prettily, and seemed confused 
for a moment; then she gave him her hand. 
“ I have loved you, oh, so long I” she said; 
“ and I feared that you would never love me. 
You were so jealous before you lost your 
wealth that all women were mere adventur¬ 
ers. I was heartily glad when papa said you 
had lost it, and I-” 
“ You sent him to negotiate with me,” 
cried Herbert, finishing the sentence, intui¬ 
tively, and giving it liberal emphasis. 
“ i loved you so 1” she murmured, depre- 
catingly. 
“ I do not doubt it, dearest!” 
And Mr. Herbert de Browne believed him¬ 
self the happiest ot men. 
They were married. The wedding was 
very unpretentious, as became the bride¬ 
groom’s straightened circumstances; and he 
was in a constant ecstacy as he thought of 
her surprise when lie should tell her his for¬ 
tune still remained. He sent for Mrs. Rinlde 
to come and re-open the house, aud to put 
it in condition to receive its mistress. Mean¬ 
time, they tarried at her father’s. 
« Herbert," said his wife one day, “ I have 
a favor to ask of you. Will you grant it?” 
“ 1 will, if in my power, Sue, darling,” he 
exclaimed. 
“ Well, poor papa is rather short of mon¬ 
ey; won’t you lend him fifty or sixty thous¬ 
and dollars ?” 
“ Me! Why, you know-” 
“ Oh 1 I know what you have been pre¬ 
tending," was the quick reply. “ But, then, 
it wasn’t so; you never lost your money.” 
Herbert de Browne was dumb with aston¬ 
ishment and chagrin. 
“ How did you find that out?” he gasped. 
“ I knew it all the time. AVhen I heard 
that you were penniless, papa went directly 
to your bunker, and learned the contrary. I 
think we managed pretty well.” 
" I think you did cried her husband, des¬ 
perately; "but do you think I’ll endure it?” 
"How can you help yourself? We are 
married now. You can’t apply for a di¬ 
vorce.” 
“ No, I can’t; but-” 
“ Then what will you do?” 
“ Answer me one question: Do you really 
love me?” 
“ Yes, I do.” 
“ Well, if you love me we will drop the 
subject.” 
" I think you’d better,” she said, quietly, 
“ and lend papa the money.” 
“ And, like a sensible man, he lent it. 
itrcial 
topics. 
“MAROONING” IN FLORIDA. 
The Richmond Dispatch lias the follow¬ 
ing from Florida:—In the spring and sum¬ 
mer many people go marooning iu Florida. 
It means to go out into the woods and camp 
with the whole family, to fish and hunt and 
amuse yourself generally under tents or huts 
—to lead a wild-wood life, and enjoy a little 
of savagonesa with all the appliances of 
civilization. 
The whole family and the neighbors will 
gather, and generally go to some island on 
the coast, taking guns and fishing tackle, 
boats, dogs, servants, cooking utensils and 
some food, lest the hunters might be unsuc¬ 
cessful, aud camp out for some weeks. 
An island is generally selected, because it 
is more a fishing than a hunting party, and 
then an island is less likely to be disturbed 
by snakes and wild cattle. The wild cattle 
of Florida are really wild animals; they will 
attack a man on foot, or break into a camp, 
and give trouble just like other wild ani¬ 
mals. An island can be searched at once to 
see if there are auy bears or wild cattle on 
it; snakes can be destroyed and everything 
prepared for the women and children, so 
that they may be left in safety during the 
absence of the hunters. Tents are put up 
or shelters made of the palmetto. This 
palm will make a stout thatch, the long 
stems are fastened with bear-grass strings to 
poles, and a shelter made that will endure 
for many seasons. If snakes are feared, 
hammocks are swung between the trees, a 
fire lighted and kept burning day and night, 
and cooking and housekeeping go on. 
If it is an old camping or marooning 
ground, a garden and orchard of oranges will 
have been already established; and not. only 
oranges, but grapes, bananas, potatoes, ar¬ 
row-root and other vegetables will be already 
found growing. At any rate, the cabbage- 
palm and the inanivewill furnish vegetables, 
the hunters provide meat aud fish, aud the 
supplies from home afford coffee and bread. 
A wild ox killed will furnish beef; salt can 
be made by boiling sea water, and a jolly 
time generally can be had if the party are 
disposed for it. The hunters bring in their 
game, the fishers the result of net, rod and 
spear; coffee and bread are ulreadyftnade, 
fruit is gathered, and a good supper is en¬ 
joyed, then to sleep in the hammocks, and to¬ 
morrow for more sport. 
Such an open-air life will bring color to 
the cheek of disease, and chase away low 
spirits and djspepsia. Such a life can be 
enjoyed marooning in Florida. 
. - *-*-♦- 
WEDDING TOURS. 
Wedding tours have become as fashiona¬ 
ble as they are expensive. As a fashionable 
custom we protest against them. Let all 
who can afford it enjoy the luxury to their 
heart’s content, but let none in moderate 
circumstances, who have to work for a liv¬ 
ing. and who need a thousand things more 
than they do a view of Niagara, nr a week at 
Saratoga, purchase a claim to notoriety, or 
a respectable conformity to custom, at an 
expense of from two to five hundred dollars, 
by spending a few miserable days among 
entire strangers, amid the bustle and con¬ 
fusion of hotel life, or enjoying the doubtful 
luxury of being rode on rails. 
Circumstances, in this as in every ques¬ 
tion, determine proprieties. But wliat we 
protest against is the tyrannical rule of fash¬ 
ion. It has no right to dictate in this mat¬ 
ter. It. may be that the fancy may be li¬ 
censed to treat with poetical indifference the 
ordinary affairs of file on so inspiring an oc¬ 
casion as that of marriage, but we can dis¬ 
cover no valid reason, nevertheless, why 
common sense should be entirely discarded 
as too vulgar or material a thing to lie asso¬ 
ciated with the heavenly bliss of material 
experience. 
Admitting that marriage should elevate 
one above Hie unromantic things of this 
world for a time, we believe there is a re¬ 
turn again in most cases to the vulgar things 
of earth, to labor, to duty, its perplexities as 
well as its ordinary pleasures. It is not in¬ 
expedient, then, to he Avlse in ibis matter. 
How many, however, are slaves to this fash¬ 
ionable folly, who have not the courage to 
break away from it? How many are led 
into an extravagauce in this matter which 
they cannot rightfully afford, merely because 
some more fortunate, (or we might say in 
many cases, more unfortunate,) do so. How 
many, contrary to reason aud good judg¬ 
ment, follow this fashion, merely to make a 
show, for the sake of appearance, which 
must, sooner or later, appear to have been 
false and counterfeit. 
--- 
Narrow-minded men, who have not a 
thought beyond the sphere of their own out¬ 
look, remind oue of the Hindu maxim 
“The snail sees nothing but its own shell, 
and thinks it the grandest palace in the uni¬ 
verse.” 
