II 
242 
MOORE’S BUBAL NEW-YORKER 
OST. 44 
OOTOBEE. 
There eome* n month In the weary year— 
A month of leisure cntl healthful rest; 
When the ripe leaves fall, »nil the air Is clear: 
October: the brown, the crisp, the blest. 
My life has little enough of bliss : 
I drag the days of the Odd eleven, 
Counting the time that shall lead to this— 
The month that, opens the hunter's heaven. 
And oh I for the mornings crisp and white. 
With the sweep of the hounds upon the track; 
The bark-roofed cabin, the cump-nro'B light. 
The break of the deer and the rifle's crack. 
Do you call this trifling! 1 tell you friend, 
A life In the forest la past all praise, 
Give me u doren such months on end— 
Tou may take my balance of year* and days. 
For brick and mortar breed tilth and crime. 
And u pulsa of evil that throbs nnd heats; 
And men go withered before tbclr prime 
With the curse paved in on the lanes and streets; 
(another whistle.) “ I did think of having a 
little party here to receive you, hut concluded 
that I wanted you myself the Brut evening-” 
notice! my emotion when I first saw her face; 
It is one t hat has been constantly before me for 
the last three years. I thought 1 had lost it, 
Hakuy haa a way of talking nons»en«e, some- I have searched everywhere. Three years 
And lungs are choked, and shoulders are bowed 
In the smothering reek of mill nnd mine; 
And Death stalks In on the struggling crowd, 
Hut ho shuns the shadow of uuk and pine. 
And of all to which the memory clings, 
There Is naught so sweet as the sunny spots 
Where our than ties stood by the crystal springs, 
The vanished bounds, and the lucky shots. 
[/'Vow the. A /dim for October. 
©ur < 
c 
V 
MY KITCHEN GIRL. 
BY 8. A. K. 
O, what a dear, cosy place it was ! that little 
cottage just out of the great city, with its new, 
bright furniture and pleasant surroundings! 
My face beamed with happiness as 1 turned to 
thank my husband for his though!fulness and 
labor. We were Just marriod, and, although 
rather ignorant of housekeeping, I Insisted that 
wo should not hoard, knowing how averse my 
husband was to such a life, 
“And now,"sold HAJ(i<Y,with assumed grav¬ 
ity, “Mrs. Wii.pk, shall I conduct you to the 
realm of labor? You are going to have a groat 
treasure there—no rough, raw Irish girl to 
frighten you lo death with her blarney, nor a 
black cook to order you off your own premises, 
but a nice little American girl who will bo able 
to help you In everything, and ut. the sametlrno 
be a companion for you while 1 am down town,” 
“O, how glad I am!” I exclaimed. "But 
where did you find her? Not in the Intelligence 
Ofilee, surely?" 
“O, no," sang Harry, whistling a well known 
air, “I was tolling Uncle N«R, the other night, 
what 1 wanted, and he said ho knew a person 
that would just suit me. It soems this girl 
came there, a few months ago, to engage in 
sowing, and hat been there ever since as seam¬ 
stress; but her health is giving way, and she 
thought if sho could do the work of some small 
family, Just out of the city, it would be better 
forherthan sewing. I have hardly had a glimpse 
of her yet, but Auntio Hi says she soems very 
sad, dresses in deep mourning,and appears like 
one who had Just bad some great sorrow." 
“Poor thing!" 1 exclaimed, my sympathies 
immediately aroused. “But, Hahky, will she 
know anything about cooking?” 
" 0, yes,” said he, “for she has always lived 
in the country, and one day she told auntie that 
she hud boon through all kinds of housework; 
but her hands are very small and delicate.” 
“ Why, I am getting quite anxious to see her; 
when will sbobe here, HARRY?” 
“0, next week," he replied, very indifferent¬ 
ly, i thought, with some surprise, which in¬ 
creased as ho said: 
“And now, toy little wife, let us have tea. I 
want to hoc you officiate in your own home." 
We descended In the dining room, I Inwardly 
trembling, for I had never made a biscuit In my 
life, and didn’t, know whether to put. a spoon¬ 
ful of tea in the tea pot, or a cupful!; hut, oh, 
what a surprise 1 There stood a nice, oval table, 
daintily set for two, elegant with its white 
damask, dear China service, and glittering sil¬ 
ver. A bright fire burned in the grate -every¬ 
thing looked so cheerful and liome-like! 
Just entering from the kitchen 1 behold a 
graceful form, clad lu deep mourning; her face 
was pale but strikingly beautiful, and as the 
gaslight flickered down upon bor golden hair 
it gleamed like a crown of glory. She greeted 
us with a ladylike simplicity, saying, “ I hope 
you have found everything in readiness; will 
you take tea now? You must be faint after 
your long rido." 
I sat down in bewildored silence, and, after 
placing a call-bell by my plate, she withdrew. 
“Why, Harry Wilde, you have made me 
wild in more than one sense 1 Ami dreaming? 
Is she to be my kitchen girl ? Why, I cannot 
treat her as such !" 
To tell the truth, Harry looked a little bo¬ 
wl ldorod, too. 
“ I declare," he said, “ they told mo she was 
refined, but this is a little more thun I ex- 
peoted.” 
“But what a nice supper she bos prepared, 
and how thoughtful of you to have her hero to 
receive us." 
“Why, did you think I would bring you to a 
desolate, uninhabited place ? Would l let you 
soil your pretty hands at the outset? O, no” 
times, that might sound silly to a third person, 
so I won’t tell you any mure of nur conversation. 
How bright the future looked to me! True, 
my husband was not wealthy, but I prefer an 
empty pocket to an empty head, and, after all 
wo bad enough for a commencement, and 1 
know there never was a happier bride in the 
wide world than I. 
But this story isn’t to be about myself, how¬ 
ever, hut of our kitchen girl. I was almost 
afraid of her at first, she seemed so far above 
me, although always quiet and polite. Bui 
finally my diffidence wore off, and one morn¬ 
ing donning a huge gingham apron, I went Into 
the kitchen determined to take my first lesson- 
in cooking. As T opened the door, a low sob 
greeted my ear, and advancing I behold the poor 
girl bowed in an agony of grief, great sobs chok¬ 
ing her whole frame. 
“ What is it. MARY?" I said, coining towardr 
her, and speaking as gently as possible; “what 
is It that troubles you? It grieves me to see 
you sad, for I am very happy, and I cannot bear 
to see any one suffer.” 
She rc.-ched out her white band to ine. and 
as 1 clasped It. in mine I drew down the wealth 
of golden hair upon my shoulder and ki-sed 
the pale brow, passing my hand lightly over l he 
temples, where the veins were swollen fearfully. 
“ Let rne be your friend, Mary ; we are n Jftrlj 
of an age; you must not weep so. There, now 
we shall he companions for each other, and you 
must tell roe all that troubles you—Will you 
not? You came here as a servant., but I cannot 
treat you as such, for you are my equal in cveiy 
sense of the word. I am very much drawn to¬ 
wards you, and I long to win your trust and 
love." 
“ O, you arc too kind,” she sobbed. “ It Is 
long since I have felt a caressing touch upon 
my brow, and your words of sympathy are very 
sweet. I do not want to cloud your sunny heart 
with my sorrows, and will try to be more cheer¬ 
ful.” 
“Now, now,” said I, playfully, “that will 
never do—” as a fresh hurst of tours followed— 
“ I’ve come down here to get you to give me 
some lessons in cooking, for I am a dreadful 
Ignoramus; so wo won’t talk about It now, but 
some time 1 am going to win the whole story 
from you. And now, most august preceptress, 
what shall bo my first lesson? Look at this 
mammoth bib. I made it on purpose for this 
momentous occasion!" 
She laughed, half sadly, but it was a laugh, 
musical andrlppllng, and I balled it as the omen 
of brighter hours. If I could cheer her poor 
heart I determined to do it. 
Every morning after this I wont down to the 
kitchen for my instruction?, and would soon, 
so Mary said, “surpass my teacher.” I discov¬ 
ered I hat the piano was no stranger to her and 
that she had a voice of rare quality, and aftor 
the work was done she would play and sing for 
me, or talk to me, with that magic power she 
always wielded in conversation. I succeeded 
in obtaining a raw scholars for her, nnd her face 
gradually lost its careworn look, although there 
was a shade of sadness that never entirely dis¬ 
appeared, and sometimes she would start nerv¬ 
ously at any unexpected sound or voice. It w as 
the old, sad story, of a happy homo broken 
up by death and misfortuno, and a penniless 
girl thrust out Into the world. But there Is One 
who notes even the sparrow's fall! 
“But why did you go out alone, Mary, to 
battle with the world ?” T said. “ Was there no 
one to help you ?" 
“Perhaps I did wrong," she said, “ but oh, I 
was driven nearly wild by toy sorrows, and 1 
could not remain there, amid those suggestive 
scenos-andso I came away, without n word; 
and, after all, there is no ono that I earn for.” 
Mary had been with us about a year, when 
one evening, Harry brought home an old col¬ 
lege friend, who had become a surgeon of con¬ 
siderable skill. Ami now just returned rrorn 
abroad, he was very entertaining. 1 was r.lpirtti- 
ed with the grace and manner of Ids conversa¬ 
tion, and so absorbed did I become in tlio in¬ 
teresting accounts of his travels that, our tea 
hour passed by without, my observlngft. Fin al¬ 
ign I root and loved this young lady, but 
lust as I was about, to declare my affection for 
Iter there came a summons urging my imme¬ 
diate presence abroad. I left n note for her 
which i have since discovered she never re¬ 
ceived, nor any letter that I have Binco written. 
During my travels I could not forget her, and 
immediately on my return I sought her home, 
(nit it was in the possession of st rangers, and no 
one could I ' ll me her whereabouts. My search 
has been in vain until to-night; and now the 
shook is so great I can hardly master myself.” 
He was deathly pule, and I began to fear we 
would have two patients instead of one, but he 
soon rallied, and obtained Ids self-control. 
Wasn’t I happy? “I knew there was a man in 
the case, somewhere 1” 1 cried, wiping my red 
•yes, and it always puzzled mo tu know what 
there could b« interesting In that little Char¬ 
lie living down in the coruer house, and why 
Mary took such a fancy to him—but, oh, to bo 
sure, why it’s because bis name is Charlie.” 
Then I had to jump up and congratulate him 
again, until Harry said, turning to Ids friend, 
” Him is always telling rne t hat it la I who made 
her wild, (Wilde) but I think you uro the one, 
now.” 
How our Mary gathered strength each day, 
and how carefully the doctor attended to her 
wants, I shall not give you an account—nor how 
beautiful she looked in her white bridal robe, 
as she was led to the altar—nor of the pleasant 
reception she gave us In her elegant home. It 
was all like a fairy tale;—and now it is over, 
and I am all alone In my little, pleasant home, 
looking, but without success, for another 
“Kitchen Girl." 
CUE LIFE OF TOIL. 
What profit hath a man 
Of all Ids labor under the sun, 
Who wnnrlea with his plan. . 
And feels hope vanish ere it is done? 
Then golden deeds of earth 
'•hall reckon as so much treasure there, 
Though life were foil from birth 
Of shadow'd nays an 1 heart-corroding care. 
We go to seek our strength 
l.ike brook-born fish in infinite sea; 
The soul of man at length 
Shall fly these earthly bounds and bo free. 
[Dr. l-'iiUcr-H'alkcr, in Christian Union. 
— -- 
NATUBAL CONDITION OF MAN. 
SPAEKS AND SPLINTEES. 
NionT lights—Glow-worms. 
Man advertises, then realizes. 
Lucifer matches—Prize fights. 
A right angle—Catching trout. 
A kkgui.au boarder A saw mill. 
Spirit of the press—A glass of cider. 
An imaginary quantity—A lady’s nge. 
The modern song of love—Cupid-ditty. 
A thorough washerwoman— Sal Soda. 
Tun life of man is t he aggregate of his loves. 
Man respires, aspires, conspires ana expires, 
BEEF-8TEA a is meat and proper for break fast. 
When is wine like a weed ? When it s mullin’. 
Moving for a new trial—Courting a second 
wife. 
A good name for a fortune-teller—Prognosti- 
Kate. 
Genius, after all, ain’t ennything more than 
elegant kommon sonce. 
A Circuit Court—T he longest way home 
from the singing school. 
Tog women horse-car conductors have for 
their motto fare to the fair. 
The Chinese laborers in Cuba, object to being 
paid In paper. They say it is too thin. 
Why is a solar eclipse like a woman whipping 
her boy ? Because it’s hiding of the son. 
Literary men can never be sure of having 
said a smart thing unless they see the “ proof." 
The author of the saying, “ You must always 
take a man as you find him,” was a constable. 
Passionate persons are like men who stand 
on their heads; they see all things the wrong 
way. 
It takes just three times as long tow tell a 
lie, on enuy subjeekt, as it duz to tell the 
truth. 
What requires moro philosophy fthan taking 
things as they come? Parting with them as 
they go. 
There iz a great deal of dignity in this world 
that Is komposed entirely ov dignity and not h¬ 
ing else. 
Side by side ov plain truth stands common 
sense two of the gratost warriors time has 
ly, 1 wu» reminded of the fact by my husband, I over produced. 
who said, “Is Mary away?’ 
“ O, yes," I replied, “ sho went out to see one 
of bur scholars this afternoon. I cannot think 
what detains her." 
Thauks to Mary’s instructions I could pre¬ 
pare a meal equal to hers, now, and wo were 
soon gathered round our pleasant table. Sud¬ 
denly, there was a confused sound of heavy 
feet, and Mary was brought in by a stalwart 
Irishman who said she had “ slipped upon a bit 
of Ice, and broken her arm.” Womanlike, I 
began to cry; but Harry gathered her up in 
his great, strong arms, and carried her up to my 
room, where we all followed. 
“ Hero, Charlie, 1 give this case up to you," 
said he, as he deposited his burden upon the 
bed, and his friend approached, saying, “She 
has fainted." 
Suddenly ho bowed his head upon bis hands, 
but only for a moment; then he proceeded to 
set the broken limb as tenderly as a woman 
would touch a frail baby’s. On 06 sbo spoke, 
incoherently, and her eyes opened in a stupid 
stare. I caught a word that sounded like 
“ Charlie" —then the truth dawned upon me I 
After ho had done all that he could, Charlie 
turned to us, saying:—“My friends, you have 
restored a great biessiug tome! Y on may havo 
WHY is u dressing gown the most lasting gar¬ 
ment in a gentleman’s wardrobe? Because he 
never wears it out, 
A Boston woman wanted to elope, but when 
her husband gave her tiie money to go, she 
changed her mind —it took all the romance 
away. 
“ Wo are fearfully and wonderfully made, as 
the man, quoting Scripture, stud to his friend 
as they were looking at the skeleton of a 
donkey. 
“ One of the most tantalizing things in a small 
way," says the editor of the Vullor Herald, “is 
that of being continually bitten by an undis- 
ooverablc Ilea.” 
JobU Billingb gives the following advice to 
young men:—“Don't bo disc uro god if your 
muslash don't grow. It sumtlnies bapens where 
a musUieb duz the best, nothing else duz so 
well.” 
A stunky lady correspondent writes that she 
kuows voiy little about the back pay question ; 
but ah is going to draw her back hair up over 
beau aocording to tbo prevailing fashion, if it 
lifts her off her he .Is and oudangors her equi¬ 
librium, auG sue would like to know what the 
newspapers are going to do about it. 
The natural and healthy condition of man is 
one in which he works for what hn receives. 
Those who contribute nothing to (ho general 
stock ought to take nothing from it. The ac¬ 
cumulation of capital in private hands is creat¬ 
ing, in continually enlarging numbers, a class 
of persons who have abuncant means to spend 
on themselves, while they havo nothing to do 
in return. A man makes a fortune, as it, Is 
called; ho leaves it to his children, who find 
themselves to have Inherited the services of an 
army of genii, potent as tho u of Aladdin’s 
lamp, to minister to their pleasures. Fools 
spend their share on Indulgence. Indulgence 
is usually synonymous with vice; and as long 
as their purses hold out they do mischief to 
every one who comes near thorn. This kind of 
tiling happily does not often last long. Tho 
money is soon gone, and there is an end of It. 
But the majority have sense enough to avoid 
ruining themselves by extravaganeo. Thoy livo 
on their Incomes, Indies especially, and having 
tholr time to themselves, and being spared the 
necessity of exertion, are considered as excep¬ 
tionally happy—yet happy they cannot ho. Sat¬ 
isfaction of mind is allotted by Providence 
only to Industry ; and not being obliged to ho 
Industrious, they loso the capacity Dir it. En¬ 
joyments pall on them. Having allowed the 
period of life to pass unused when occupations 
can bo successfully learned, they are unable to 
take tholr places afterward on tho beaten roads 
of life. They stray into fancy employments; 
they become dabblers In politics, dabblers in 
art, dabblers In literature and science. Noth¬ 
ing succeeds with them sufficiently to put them 
on good terms with themselves, and then men 
ami women alike, and particularly tho better 
sort of them, being without wholmoruo occu¬ 
pations, a^d craving for something which will 
satisfy tho demands which tboir minds are 
making on them, rhey fly to the opiates and 
anodynes of the quack doctors of the spiritual 
world .—James Anthony Fronde. 
HOW A MAN IS CONVEETED. 
Talmage says:— You see a man from tho 
most Infamous surroundings stop Into the king¬ 
dom of God. He has beard no sermon. He has 
received no startling providential warning. 
What brought him to this now mind? This is 
the secret; God looked over tho bottle in which 
ho gathers the tears of his people, and saw a 
parental tear in that bottle which had boen 
for f orty years unanswered. Ho, said, “Go to 
now: and let me answer that teerl” and 
forthwith the wanderer Is brought home to God. 
-—- 
A Beautiful Farewell, 
Dr. Todd's last 
message to his church, sent on a Sabbath even¬ 
ing, contained this passage Toll them that I 
have unwavering faith in Christ and his salva- 
lion, and that I am waiting mid hoping for 
light, from the eternal world. I want to see 
that light and think L shall. ‘Though I walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
will fear no evil.’ And so I stand at the gate 
like a little child, waiting for it to open to give 
me a glimpse of the glory." 
•--—- 
IjOng-Spun Sermons. —We commoml to tho 
consideration of ministers who aro given to 
preaching long sermons the anecdote of the 
little boy who kept awake in church as long as 
lie could, but finally wont to sleep, had his nap, 
waked up to find the minister still preaching, 
and innocently whispered“Mother, Is it this 
Sunday night or is It next Sunday night?” 
It is tho weakness of some good men to speak 
of man as miserable rather than guilty. Indeed 
it becomes ono who has obtained mercy to pity 
rather than condemn. Yet compassion should 
be mixed with a holy indignation ; for we may 
indulge a tenderness to offenders till we lose 
sight of the abomination of sin, 
—--- 
The king, in reality, is well served; neither 
life nor fortune Is considered when hla pleasure 
is the question. If wo were as well disposed 
toward God, we should be saints indoed.— 
Aladmuc tie Scviync. 
r <n\ n 
Ail things aro full of toil, 
And in much wisdom there is much grief. 
The best of mon roust moll; 
The Wheat grows ripe for tho thresher’s sheaf. 
So we build not on sand. 
But flx our faith on things eternal. 
Our human work shall stand 
Until this life becomes supernal. 
jfvuly 
Wu 
