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BY AI.IQCA 
I sail alone on the open sea. 
My boat Is frail and the winds are free. 
The light is fading and dim; 
The waves sob low for the dying day, 
The night comes down on my lonely way; 
But 1 hoar through wind and shadows dark. 
"Gt'P guards; rreight ever your tossing bark 
With a perfcot trust In lllm." 
A WOMAN OF BETHLEHEM, 
There seems to have been little change 
in the customs, costumes, or manners of 
Oriental people since time immemorial. 
Western civilization has been live, active 
and progressive ; in the East, until recently, 
everything has existed as in ages long gone 
by. We see a woman of Bethlehem, there¬ 
fore, herewith portrayed, as Jacob of old 
saw Raorel at the well. Our engraving is 
from an original sketch made in Bethlehem 
only a few months ago, and delineates, 
doubtless, the same type of grace and sim¬ 
plicity as once belonged to the lowly hand¬ 
maiden whose name is daily repeated by 
millions, and whoso motherhood, the sub- 
limcst ever known, bore glorious fruit for all 
humanity forevermore. 
“ Oh, that one would give me drink of the 
water of the well of Bethlehem, which is 
by the gate!” prayed David, when his 
long-time enemies, the Philistiues, were in 
possession of the city, and had for a season 
deprived him of its supply. Perchance this 
woman is passing forth, even now, to dip 
her pitcher in the same ever-flowing water. 
Her costume is the universal one where she 
dwells. A white cloth falling over the fore¬ 
head and down the flgnre, is so arranged 
that it can at once he used to conceal the 
whole or any part of the face and body even 
more effectually than the yashmak of the 
Mohammedan women. The bodice of pink 
or some other gay color, adorned with such 
broidery and trinkets as their humble means 
will allow, together with Strings of coins, 
which hang down on either side of the face 
—often of extreme regularity and beauty— 
show that the women of Bethlehem are not 
behind their Frankish sisters in the art of 
personal decoration or in I lie desire to please. 
The only thing is that with them there is no 
caprice of fashion. Having hit upon a cos¬ 
tume which is eminently picturesque, they, 
with true Oriental solidity, have adhered to 
it, and rely upon natural grace of manner 
rather than on new combinations of color or 
material for the charm of their presence. 
For there is a peculiar charm about, the 
women of Bethlehem and vicinity, as about 
the place itself. Tt has come down from the 
Old Testament times, fresh, and pure, aud 
ennobling. We feel the rare womanliness 
of Rachel, and of R*ebekau, and the ten¬ 
der faith and devotion of Ruth, hardly less 
than they must have been felt by Ellezer, 
and Isaac, and Boaz. And we cannot help 
hoping that Palestine may retain somejvhat 
of its old-time associations, amid the progress 
which our newer civilization renders nearly 
certain, even there. Indeed, can these asso¬ 
ciations ever be lost to it ? Never, so long 
as Christianity exists in the hearts of men ; 
never, so long as the star which shone in 
Bethlehem shall shiue out, as now it shines, 
bright and joy-giviug for the whole world. 
And the sweetest thought touching the 
woman we picture is that one like her 
nursed our common Saviour, and that liv¬ 
ing so near the incarnate God all her kind 
have thenceforth seemed to hold a finer 
type of holiness. 
Tbti Minrs shine on in the boundless blue. 
Forever there and forever true. 
The waves by their shimmer kissed i 
Ah ! friends pledged to be true as their truth. 
Known long ago In rapids of youth, 
Have hastened on in soma happy gale. 
With waving hands and nutter of sail 
And disappeared in the mist. 
And far back whore the Fortunate Isles 
The waters light with their luring smiles 
And shine llko gold in the sun. 
The current drifted me far from land, 
And I sought the stretch of shining sand 
In vain : ah, well It is Goi> who guidos, 
Who murks our ufforls, though man derides 
Thut we lost when others won. 
I look afar when the days are clear. 
And fancy the turrets rising near 
Of the City o’er the sea. [gold ; 
Whose gates are pearl and whose streets are 
And when dark storms of the night enfold 
And my barque Is tossed by winds at will, 
I long for the Master’s " Peace, be still," 
As he spake on Galileo! 
And so I sail through shadow and sun, 
With helping hands for the shlp-wrooked one, 
With Joyful songs for the gay, 
Words for the Weak and smiles for the brave 
And cheer for nil, over crested wave 
And rippling calm to the harbor far, 
Where peace Is sure aud our loved ones are. 
And no night closes the day. 
torics for 
RAFE SCHAFFER 
BY BERTHA 1BLKY 8CRANT0M 
CHAPTER IV. 
(Continued from Page 31 last No.) 
The Christmas dinner waited a long time 
that, day. In vain the inviting odors of 
turkey and Christmas pudding steamed 
through the study key-hole. “ The goose 
will bo browned to a crisp!” declared the 
pretty hostess, listening, an hour later, lor a 
sound outside. At last she went to John, 
in the library. 
“ They will starve and never know it! A 
cup of coffee and a sandwich were all I 
could eat this morning! Let us go and 
bring them out.,” she said. 
John opened his eyes. 
“People always do so in novels,” he 
yawned. “Let us demolish the goose and 
give them the hones. I think such a ro¬ 
mantic little, episode, occurring often in a 
man’s life, would ruin a good digestion.” 
“ John, you’ve been asleep! It is too bad 
in you! ” she said. 
“My dear girl, what else could I do? 1 
enacted my role superbly, even up to the 
part where I gave him a tragic little push 
and said ‘go, she is in yonder,’ and he 
obligingly went. Immediately I took a nap. 
If they have chosen to kill one another for 
joy, 1 am not responsible. Don’t ask me to 
do anything further. If you refuse to feed 
me, why did you come to my cage and 
waken me, alter the uncivil manner of 
keepers with iron bars in menageries?” 
And he settled himself down again. 
“John, you are past cure. You are not 
even good enough to throw away on a clever 
woman,” and she despairingly loft him. A 
few minutes later she turned the study door 
after bestowing upon the knob a preparatory 
wriggle, and began,—“Good people, the 
goose is getting too brown, and the dinner 
is spoiling to be eaten.” 
She got so far bravely, then she stopped 
and burst into tears. For Rafe was sitting 
at his feet, and his white locks were mingled 
with her brown hair, aud the expression on 
the girl’s face was something never to be 
forgotten. 
At this juncture John appeared, and 
Clara buried her face in his bosom. 
It was all very awkward for a moment, 
with three people in tears and John’s eyes 
getting blurry. 
“I like landscapes but I cannot confess 
to a partiality for waterscapes or aqueous 
views generally,” be said presently, “ I’m 
glad you are all so happy, but unless you 
give me my dinner I shall spoil all your fun 
assuredly. And Clara you are going to de¬ 
luge my new malachite studs hopelessly!” 
“ O, yes, and Rafe, this is John,” she said, 
raising her face now. 
“Yes, darling," said Ei.mu Rafe In a 
broken voice, “ this is the friend whom I’ve 
known abroad all these yearn, whom I re¬ 
turned with, and to whom I owe so much. 
Without hirn,” he said, laying a hand on 
John’s broad shoulder tenderly, “ you would 
have had no uncle—” 
“ And no dinner,” John, interrupted. 
“Ah, yesl” he continued, “I see that you 
A Singular Courtship. — De Lesseps’ 
ran thus: — lie had brought to ladies in 
France a great number of Jericho roses, and 
was distributing them at an evening party, 
Ho stopped before the young brunette who 
i3 now Mrs. Dc L., and said: “ It. is not In 
my power to make this rose bloom afresh, 
(everybody knows the legend of Jericho 
roses,) but express a desire in accepting it, 
and I swear that it shall bo accomplished.” 
“1 desire—whatever you wish,” murmured 
the young girl. “Well,” said Dc Lesseps, 
“ I wish you to he my wife.” And she is. 
had always done so before her. Though in 
very comfortable circumstances, sbo always 
carried her corn to the mill on her head; her 
reason for this also was that her mother had 
always done so. 
She was very much annoyed, as was her 
relatives, by the notoriety which Whit¬ 
tier’s poem brought upon her. According 
to their primitive ideas, a woman who was 
much talked about was disgraced ; the loss 
BARBARA FREITCHIE 
A very valued contributor to the Rural 
not long since visited Frederick, Maryland, 
where resided this patriotic woman whom 
Whittier’s beautiful ballad made famous, 
and thus writes us concerning her and her 
surroundings: 
I saw the site of the house where she 
Jived on Patrick street, which runs east and 
west, cornering on a stream that runs north 
and south through the city. Her house en¬ 
croached on the stream, and so narrowed its 
bed at that point that heavy freshets over¬ 
flowed the street for a considerable distance 
on either side, causing great annoyance to 
the inhabitants. On this account the house 
was purchased by the corporation after her 
death and torn down, to enlarge the channel 
of the stream. I brought away a cane made 
from the casing of the window Avhere her 
flag was hung, which I shall preserve as a 
valuable relic. 
She was a plain, pious, unpretending wo¬ 
man, as staunch in her adherence to what 
she believed to be right as John Brown of 
Ossawatomie, whose soul is now marching 
on. She was simple in her dress; her bon¬ 
net was of black silk and made in a form 
very similar to those worn by elderly Friends; 
and she wore a muslin handkerchief crossed 
over her bosom in front much like theirs. 
She was descended from German ancestors, 
and was a most exemplary member of the 
German Reformed Church. It is the custom 
in that church for the communicants to re¬ 
ceive the communion standing, and facing 
the altar. Barbara always stood sidewise 
to the altar, with her right arm resting on 
the rail. She first received the bread as the 
others did, but when she received the cup 
she turned round aud shook hands with the 
Pensee Cashmere Hood, (twe Page 51.) 
