OOfSE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER 
THE DATS THAT ARE NO MORE. 
OH, memories of green and pleasant places, 
Where happy hlrcts their wood-notes twittered low ! 
Oh, love that lit the dear, familiar faces 
Wo hurled long ago. 
From barren hlebti their sweetness we remember, 
.And backward gate, with wistful, yearning eyes, 
As hearts regret, ’mid snowdrifts of December, 
The summer’s sunny skies. 
Glad hours that scorned their riilnbow tints to borrow 
From some Illumined page of fairy lore; 
Bright days that never lacked a bright to-morrow, 
Days that return no moro. 
Fair gardens with their many-blossomed alleys. 
And red, ripe roses breathing out perfume; 
Dim violet nooks In green, sequestered valleys, 
Empurpled o’er with bloom. 
Sunsets that lighted up the brown-leaved benches. 
Turning their dusky glooms to glimmering gold; 
Moonlight that on the river's fern-fringed reaches 
Streamed, whlto-ruyod, silvery cold. 
O’er moorlands bleak we wander weary-hearted, 
Through many u tangled wild and thorny maze, 
Roroomberlng, as In dreams, the days departed. 
The bygone happy (leys 1 
®ur J^tcrrg-S^r. 
AN OLD FOLKS’ CONCEKT, 
BY MARY L. BOLLES BRANCH. 
“I am sure I don't know what I shall wear,” 
said my little sister Faith, looking up rather 
wearily from the brown lion she was working 
on Aunt Derby's sofa pillow. 
“ Vou ought to try to look pretty, because you 
have to sing a solo," I replied; “ but if you can’t 
think of anything bettor, dress aa I do. Thank 
fortune, there are two of those monstrous 
feather fans up garret! I shall wear one of 
grandmother's gay-flowered chintzes that she 
had when she was a girl, and a big collar, and a 
string of gold beads, and I shall fan myself all 
the time with my huge feather fan.” 
“ Well, Mr.o, dear, you are so merry and funny 
that, you cun do that way and it will jusl suit 
you,"said Faith; “but I couldn’t carry It oil' 
well at all." 
“I'm sure, you used to be just as merry and 
funny as any of us!" I retorted; and I bad it 
on my lips to add that, if CiiAltLiK Ham. hadn’t 
taken to spending his evenings at Blanche 
Hoot’s instead of at our house, she wouldn't 
be so spiritless and indifferent now; but it 
seemed rather unkind to harp upon that .sub¬ 
ject, so I kept still. Faith threaded her needle 
afresh and counted stitches up and down the 
lion's mane. 
A looker-on can often see things moro plainly 
than the parties directly concerned in them, 
and I foresaw sunshine for Faith, for I was al¬ 
most sure that one of the noblest men on earth 
was deeply in iovo with her, and now that CHAB- 
i.ie Hali.'s fickleness had tukonhim out of tlm 
way, Hkkvey North would come forward like 
a king, claiming his own. He was a physician 
who had recently settled among us, of high 
character and brilliant reputation, and there 
was that In every look and tone that showed 
him “ a man of men.” Faith had met hi in first 
by a sick bed, and the acquaintance thus formed 
had speedily ripened Into a friendship In which, 
I fell , lay something more Intense, waiting like 
the spark of fire in stou . 
As for the Cuarl_k Hall love affair, that, 
was well over, and was glad of it, for 1 had 
never had any great opinion of Charlie. It. 
was provoking that Faith should have had to 
endure even one little heart-pang because of 
him; but’then she was t wice as sweet and love¬ 
ly now as before, and 1 could almost forgive 
him, seeing how Providence w;is turning every¬ 
thing to good. 
Somehow, I felt, that this “ Old Folk’s Con¬ 
cert,” to which we were looking forward, held 
the crisis of events. It was to be in the church, 
and the proceeds wore to go towards reducing 
the big debt; so everyone was interested, and 
all the best voices in the neighborhood was 
called into the service. Among the basses. Dr. 
North sang best. There were plenty ol so¬ 
pranos and altos and about half a dozen tenors, 
counting in Cham lii. Hall. Our leader trained 
us well in the good old hymn tunes familiar to 
all, and L can tell you It would have made your 
pulses bound to hear us sing "Coronation.” 
We girls were all in a flutter about what we 
should wear, for our dresses wero all to be in 
some ancient style, and there were a good runpy 
difficulties to surmount. We held counsel with 
grandmothers and great-aunts, ransacked gar¬ 
rets and overhauled moth-eaten trunks, drag¬ 
ging forth to light all the old gowns and bon¬ 
nets that the thrifty belles uf long ago had 
stored away when they were no longer in 
fashion. 
“Now, suppose Aunt Derry and Aunt Ann 
had Bold these precious treasures from time to 
time to Jew peddlers fora tawdry vase or two 1” 
I exclaimed, as I sat upon a trunk swinging a 
comical old gypsy hat. by one string; “ it, would 
have been an absolute wrong to us, and I pro¬ 
pose. Faith, that you and 1 hereafter put our 
clothes away in a box every time the fashion 
changes, for the benefit of our grandchildren 1" 
“Very well,” said Faith; “but do come and 
help mo get out those queer things under Aunt 
Ann’s laces I” I sprang up, and it was then and 
there that I found those impressive featherfans, 
the largest of which I immediately set aside for 
a part of my own costume. It did not take me 
long to decide on one article after another for 
myself, but Faith was harder to suit. 
Meanwhile, the days were slipping by, and 
what, with two rehearsals a week, wo were be¬ 
coming so well drilled that the concert night 
was fixed for an early date, and the programmes 
printed. Almost all t he girls had their costumcB 
arranged. Evie Lake w«n going to be a Quak¬ 
eress, prim and gray; Julia Waltham was to 
appear In brocade, with round hoops, a ruff and 
powdered hair; Nellie Clarke was to bring 
her knitting and dress like a nice old grand¬ 
mother In black silk, with a white kerchief and 
crimped muslin cap. There were plenty of 
short waists arid leg-o'-mutton sleeves and a 
few big bonnet* to keep mine company. We 
girls all around the neighborhood had held so 
many merry consultations, that we all knew 
what the others were to wear, although we had 
no dress rehearsal. Amid all this Faith alone 
remained undecided, and I felt really uneasy 
lest she might be a failure after all. She spent 
all her leisure, when she should have been 
studying over her dress, in sorting golden-brown 
flosses and zephyrs, and working away at Aunt 
Dkbby’b pillow as if It were a stent that, had 
been set for her to do. However, the pillow 
brought the dress after all. I really think it 
was that that softened Aunt, Derby's heart at 
last, when.she found Faith patiently working 
one afternoon three days before the concert, 
and me scolding her because she could not make 
up her mind to any of the grotescpie fashions I 
proposed to her. 
Aunt Derby stepped into her bedroom, and 
in a few moments wc heard her calling, “ Girls, 
come In here." 
“Oi” cried Faith, as we entered, “how 
lovely!” 
“Grayof the sea-gull’s wing!” I exclaimed, 
“ where did it come from ?” 
" 11 was my wedding dress,” said Aunt Debby, 
softly. 
Now it was certainly almost fifty years since 
Aunt Derby's wedding day, and her married 
Ul'e had been very brief; so through what long 
years of lonely waiting had she cherished this 
memento of her happiness 1 I am sure Faith 
and 1 never knew she had it, never dreamed 
that anything like this was locked away in the 
little old camphor chest that stood by Aunt 
Derby’s bod. But there It was—a stiff, old- 
fasldoned silk, of a delicate pale gray, with a 
moderately full skirt and a train. The waist 
was very long and pointed, and gaged—yes, ab¬ 
solutely mwed from the armholes down to the 
tip of the slender bodice. The sleeves were 
gaged also the whole length* excepting just at 
the elbow, where all the fullness « as left, free in 
a great round puff; the neck was pointed, too, 
and trimmed with lace. I don’t suppose you 
can imagine how it looked, but It was the very 
oddest, quaintest, prettiest old-faahioned thing 
T ever saw in my life. 
“Try it on, Faith,” said Aunt Derby. 
Fa rra did so, and in two minutes more stood 
before us, a perfect, little beauty of a Puritan 
maiden, prim and pretty and blushing. It was 
amarvel'how it fitted her; but Aunt Debby 
looked at her critically. 
“ I must find you the stays 1 ivoro,” she said, 
“ and the satin slippers." 
11 . was not bard to find them, for they too lay 
In the camphor wood chest, and with them the 
wedding stockings, white silk and clocked. 
“O, Aunt Deiiiiy, arc you going to let me 
wear it to the concert?” asked Faith, breath¬ 
lessly. 
“Why yes, child,"said Aunt Debby, “I don’t 
know what makes me, but I feel as I want to 
see you wear that gown.” 
“ Now my mSmt is at rest I” I exclaimed ; “I 
shan’t give you; nother anxious thought. Faith. 
And Dr, North Is going to escort us to the 
church. Isn't it all just splendid 1" 
The three days went like a flash alter that. I 
had so much to do to make grandmother’s 
chintz fit me; and right in the midst of It one 
of the girls, Ahbik Davis, came to me in des¬ 
pair and said she had no invention, so I had to 
help her make her whole costume, leg-of-mut¬ 
ton sleeves and ail, and lend her a fan to carry 
with it. Sho told me, as wo chatted, that Bhe 
had beard Blanche Root say Miss Faith 
PARMI.eb bad better wear willows, they were 
so suitable and old-fashioned too. Wasn't I 
vexed! But the thought of Dr. North and 
Aunt Derby’s wedding dress enabled me to 
reply only with a calm, superior smile. 
Well, Thursday evening came, and Dr. North 
called for Faith and me almost before we were 
ready. He said lie had mot numbers of people 
on their way to the church, and wo were going 
to have a crowded house. It seemed as if ho 
could not look at Faith enough when she came 
into the room, so primrose-like, in her stiff, 
lovely gown ; but ! gave him my monster bon¬ 
net and fan to carry, and that turned every, 
thing Off into a laugh, and off we started. Wo 
entered the church by a rear door, going first 
into a sort of waiting room where the singers 
were assembling. There all was grotesque con¬ 
fusion and a merry hum of voices. I never saw 
Anything so droll in my life. What with the 
wigs and the foretops, the patches and powder, 
you would hardly know your best friend. Just 
ns I was beginning to make out who was who, 
Our leader gave us our orders, end we marched 
into tlio church, taking our place in the organ 
loft behind the pulpit, and on the platform be¬ 
fore it. A whisper and titter ran through the 
immense audience; but, we ourselves behaved 
with the most dignified sobriety. Our leader 
gave out the first hymn and read it; then he 
struck the note on his little old tuning fork, 
and we rose and sang“Mear.” There wasn’t 
any more titter!ngjn the audience after those 
sweet, solemn, measured strains, and a great 
many voices joined in with us in t bo second 
stanza. Then we were seated, and there was a 
brief pause during which I slowly fanned my¬ 
self and looked around a little from the depths 
of my bonnet. Faith sat at a tittle distance, 
looking perfectly radiant, and Dr. North in Ilia 
handsome old Continental suit, leaned over her, 
whispering about a tune. I could not resist a 
glance at. an opposite corner whero Charlie 
Halt, sat, sullen asa shadow; but before I could 
see where Blanche was, Evie Lake touched 
me on the shoulder, and whispered in mild re¬ 
proof, “Thee should govern thyself more se¬ 
dately, Margaret.” 
I did not move my head after that, and in a 
minute more w r e were all standing again, sing¬ 
ing good old “ Boylston 
“ My soul, repeat bis praise, 
Whoso mercies are so great; 
Whose anger is so slow to rise, 
So ready to abate.” 
I wonder if any one but David ever touched 
all the chords of the human soul so skillfully as 
Watts. We sang three or four more of his 
hymns, then Plevel's, and then grand, grand 
old “Coronation,"that seemed fairly to lift the 
audience off their feet.. They all joined in, old 
and young, and ) declare it the churches could 
only have such singing Hu inlays, nobody could 
possibly want a quartette choir again. Boforo 
the last grand strain ceased vibrating on the 
air, I saw Faith rising and going t.o her place 
by the organ, for the next piece she was to sing 
alone. There was a moment's stillness, and 
then Julia Waltham, our organist, began the 
accompaniment. I glanced nervously at Faith; 
she stood there lily-white, seemingly uncon¬ 
scious that every eye wo.- fixed upon her. Then 
her beautiful, clear, pathetic voice took up the 
strain of David’s lamentation; 
“ David, the King, was grieved.” 
I think Faith’s voice, as she sang that, night, 
will haunt me forever. The audience was 
breathless. Dr. North watched her with rapt 
eyes. When she finished there was applause 
and a recall; but our leader hud already given 
the signal of intermission, and we wore rising 
to return to the waiting room. Once there,and 
the doors closed, the hubbub commenced. 
, “Wasn't it lovely! perfectly superb!” “Faith 
Pajcmlke, where did you get your drees and 
your voice?" “Anybody seen a puff comb?” 
“Meg, your fan was killing!” “Do straighten 
my ruff. Mr. Gkkchj, your wag is ono-sidod!” 
“A pin, a pin! my cap string is off!” “Don’t 
crush my starched sleeves!” Faith, did you 
dross your hair yourself over that high cush¬ 
ion?” 
Faith was standing a little apart,smlllngand 
talking with Dr. North. 1 heard some of the 
girl* whispering what a handsome picture they 
made, and It was certainly going to be a match. 
It. did mo good to see how wretched Charlie 
H alt. looked, overhearing their chatter; and as 
if to crush him still more, Abbie Davis told 
him she understood lie and Blanche wero en¬ 
gaged, and might she congratulate him? lie 
glowered at her, and turned angrily away. 
Blanche Hoot came trippiug along in a 
matronly brown satin gown and mob-cap, with 
two or three patches on tier face and her merry 
dark eyes full of malice. 
“ You look for all the world like a bride, dear 
Faith," she said, meaningly. “ Ah, it in a wed¬ 
ding dress, Is it? I thought so. Permit me to 
offer best wishes, and so on I” 
“Blanche, some one has stepped on your 
dross and torn the gathers,” interrupted one of 
the girls; “ hurry up, or you won’t have time to 
fix it." 
So the won Id-bo tormenter had t o go away 
with her work undone, for Faith bud not seem¬ 
ed to hear her at all. Our leader now entered 
and Informed us thatlhetime had come for the 
second part. Wo were to go back Into the 
church by a different door, and march up and 
down the aisles in couples, that, the delighted 
audience might, got a closer view of the "Old 
Polks." The gentlemen had previously secured 
their partners. Dr. North walked with Faith 
of course, and 1 trudged along with Cousin 
JACK. Then we all filed upon the platform 
again, the leader took his tuning fork, gave out 
“ New Jerusalem," and beat time while we sang. 
Then followed stirring, triumphant, “Zion." 
Up to this time I had been full of joyous ex¬ 
citement, and elation; but with “Windham” 
my mood suddenly changed. It is apathetic 
tune in a minor key, and that probably affected 
me. I felt as if something sad was about to hap¬ 
pen and tears came to my eyes. But Nellie 
Clarice peeped over her spectacles at me and 
passed a bit of fennel, and that broke the spell. 
Then Blanche Root sang Iter piece about the 
old Revolutionary lady that threw her tea into 
Boston harbor. It jarred a little the first, mo¬ 
ment, coming after so many solemn hymns; 
but she sang it with great, vivacity, and won 
laughing applause. The concert was almost 
over now; we sang beautiful “Sherburne," and 
then “Old Hundred,” and finally wound up with 
“ Auld Lang Syne.” 
We were In great confusion after the concert, 
fox a groat many of the audience came pressing 
up on the platform and even into our little 
waiting room, looking for friends and paying 
us compliments. It took me some time to put 
away my bonnet and fan in the box, and then 
one after another stopped me to talk ; but as 
soon as I could I hurried away, without waiting 
to find Faith, for I had made up my mind to 
go home with Jack, bo as not to be in Dr. 
North’s way. I was certain Faith would come 
engaged, and I found myself already planning 
whether it would not do for her to be married 
in Aunt Derby ’g wedding dress. Jack was no¬ 
where to be seen; but as T stepped to the out¬ 
side door, I was sure I saw him walking away 
with a gir! that, looked like Blanche, only of 
course, it couldn’t bo. 
*’Weil, who’s afraid?” f asked myself. “I’ll 
just run home alone. I’ve done it before now.” 
So off I started, sorely encumbered by the big 
bandbox; but I had hardly gone a square when 
a ringing step overtook me, and there was Dr. 
North, lookingvery pale in the moonlight. 
“Why, where’a your sister?” he asked. “I 
have been searching everywhere for both of 
you.” 
I was alarmed, and would have turned back 
at once, but ho assured mo she was not in the 
church. • 
“Then she must have gone homo with father 
and Aunt Debby," I said, thinking to myself 
that 1 would give Faith a sound shaking for 
such coquettish behavior. Wo walked on, rather 
silently; but as we neared the house wo saw 
Faith In the doorway with a gentleman. He 
came down the steps aa wo approached, and I 
recognized Charlie Ha ll. Faith hadsllpped 
indoors. I smoothed it, all over as well as I 
could, and begged Dr. North to cal! the next 
day. He looked grave and puzzled. The mo¬ 
ment ho left, 1 dashed up stairs, and found 
Fateh crying happily in a corner. 
“FATTn l’ARWLKB!” I exclaimed, “ takedown 
your hands and tell mo what tin’s means!” 
“It means," she said, looking up radiantly 
through her tears, “ i means that < ’h arlie and 
I have made up; and now don’t scold, Meg, 
dear, for I am so very, very happy!" 
And she meant It. It was useless to argue 
with her. 
“Why, I have loved Charlie ever since I can 
remember," was the w ay she replied to me. 
Iu vain I urged his utter Insignificance, his 
fickleness and shameful desertion of her, and 
his reported engagement to Blanche. 
“It was all a misunderstanding, Meg,” she 
cried; “I drove him from me with a hasty 
word, and wc were both too proud to explain 
and both wretched. But this blessed evening 
has set all right again!" 
I wish I here hadn’t been any “Old Folks’Con- 
cort.” I wish Fa mi hadn’t worn Aunt, Derby’s 
wedding gown, for I am sure If sho had not 
looked so pretty and sung so sweetly, Charlie 
Hall would never have wavered back. Why is 
it that a girl like Fa mi almost invariably throws 
herscif away! And the world lets St go on. 
Kven Aunt Derby says, when I complain to 
her, “Do let the young things be happy, child. 
Don’t meddle with true love!" 
The worst of it is, Faith looks so radiant all 
the time and Charlie so provoklngly happy, 
and they both Ignore my resentment so com¬ 
pletely, that I am afraid I shall end, by-aml-by, 
in thinking it all right myself. All the more, 
perhaps, because Dr. North has not stopped 
calling at our house. I am sure if he can for¬ 
give us, and If, as Faith saucily hinted last 
night, “Love is sometimes caught iu the re¬ 
bound,” why then—one thing 1 knows he shall 
never receive such shabby treatment a second 
time 1 
-- 
SPARKS AND SPLINTERS. 
There is nothing so effective iu bringing a 
man up to the scratch asa healthy high-spirited 
flea. 
An old maid, speaking of marriage, says it is 
like an old disease-while there is life there is 
hope, 
A Western editor says no man who had paid 
regularly for his newspaper was ever bit by a 
mad dog. 
One item in an Oregon horse-doctor’s bill 
reads “ To holdin a postmortim examination 
on a boss who afterward recovered, $1.50." it 
was paid. 
A pugilistic Irishman in England being 
bound over to keep the peace on all British 
subjects remarked, “The Lord help the first 
foreigner I meet! ” 
The following is a copy of a notice displayed 
in a field in South London “Ladles and gen¬ 
tlemen are requested not to steal turnips. Oth¬ 
er persons, if detected, will be prosecuted." 
A MAN at Lanaingburg. N. 1'., wagered that he 
could jump fifty feet, and he won the money by 
jumping off a building. The satisfaction of 
knowing that the idiot broke his neck is with¬ 
held. 
At a candy-pull recently the two gallon pot 
full of blazing liquid was put out in the yard to 
cool, while the jollity went on inside. The cat’s 
corpse was removed, and the candy given to the 
poor. 
Cleveland grants more marriage licenses 
Monday than any other day. The fumes of 
Cleveland whisky imbibed Sunday do not get 
out of a man’s head until about Wednesday 
noon. 
The most thoroughly ventilated man in Os¬ 
wego, says a Kansas paper,.is a horse-thief 
whom the boys followed around for a while. 
Ho has nineteen buckshot hoios in his left 
breast and twenty-one in hiB left arm. 
Spoiled figs and carpenter’s glue are the 
principal constituents of a new sensation in the 
way of sweetmeats sold as “royal jam ” by the 
London grocers. A sufficient addition of gin 
will produce the royalist kind of jim jam. 
