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M'W-lOEEm 
“ Yes, quite; I like it better than anything 
else—that is, I mean I can churn well.” 
“ And do you read much ?” Fred’s glance 
had traveled from the corner of his eyes to 
every table, shelf and corner, in search of 
books and papers, but not a page, yellow or 
red, repaid his search. 
“Oh, yes," said Helen, with a sanctified 
air. 
“ What hooks ? permit me to ask.” 
“ 1 read the Bible a good deal,” she said 
gravely. 
“Is that all?” 
“ All! of course not—yet what do you not 
find in the Bible? History, poetry, elo¬ 
quence, romance—the most thrilling pathos” 
—blushing and recollecting herself, she add¬ 
ed in a manner as childish as it had before 
been diguified, “ As for other books, let me 
see what 1 have got in my library—there’s 
the Primer, (counting on her fingers,') 
Second-class Reader, Robinson Crusoe, Nur¬ 
sery Tales, two or three Elements of some¬ 
thing, Biography of some person or other, 
Mother’s Magazine, and King William 111. | 
There, isn’t that a good assortment?” 
Fred smiled. 
“ Perhaps I do not know as much as those 
who have been to school more,” she added, 
as if disappointed at the mute rejoinder, 
“ but in making bread, churning butter and 
keeping house, 1 am not to be out-done.” 
The young man felt more in pity than in 
love, but his visits did not always so result. 
He began to fool a magnetic attraction, and 
lie mainly attributed it. to Helen’s beauty ; 
but the truth is, her sweetness and artless 
character, engaging manner and disposition, 
quite won the city-bred aristocrat, Fred 
Lane. There was a freshness about every¬ 
thing she said or did. She perplexed as well 
as delighted him. 
Often as lie was wondering how some 
homely expression would be received in so¬ 
ciety, some beautiful sentiment would sud¬ 
denly drop like a pearl from her lips, as re¬ 
markable Ibr originality as for brilliancy. 
“ If I should fall into the snare,” thought 
lie, “ 1 can educate her; it will he worth 
trying.” 
It is useless to combat the tender passion ; 
so at last he fell at Helen’s feet, figuratively 
speaking, and confessed his love for her. 
“ I care not, Helen, only be mine,” was 
his invariable answer to her declaration of 
unworthiness, “how you would appear in 
society.” 
They were married, had relumed from 
their wedding tour, and yet, at the expira¬ 
tion of their honeymoon, Fred was more 
in love than ever. At a grand cuter* 
taiument given by the relatives of the bride¬ 
groom, Helen looked still more beautiful. 
Her husband did not insist that she should 
depart from simplicity, and indeed in the 
absence of all jewelry in her simple white 
robe, she was by far the most lovely creature 
iu the room. 
As she entered the great saloon blazing 
with light, her heart faltered. 
“ Shall I love him as dearly,” she asked 
herself, “if I find he is ashamed of me? I 
can’t bear the thought, but should lie over¬ 
come all conventional notions, then I have a 
husband to be honored, and he shall be 
proud of bis wife.” 
How she watched him as he presented her 
to one and another. 
“Simple," whispered a magnificent girl 
resplendent with diamonds, as she curled 
her lips, and passed by. The observation 
escaped neither Helen nor her husband. 
She looked at him. lie smiled a lover’s 
smile, and drew her closer to his side. Many 
in that brilliant gathering pitied poor Fred, 
and wondered how lie had martyred himself 
on the shrine of ignorant rusticity. 
The young bride stood near her husband, 
talking In a low tone, when a new comer 
appeared. She was a beautiful, slightly 
formed creature, with haughty features. Ill 
concealed scorn lurked in the brilliant eyes 
whenever she glanced at Helen. Once she 
had held sway over the heart of Fred, and 
hearing whom lie had married, she fancied 
her time had come. 
“ Do you suppose she knows anything,” 
whispered a low voice. 
Helen's eyes sparkled; her face flushed 
indignantly. She turned to her husband. 
He was gone,—speaking at a distance with a 
friend. 
“ Do you play, Mrs. —?” asked the haughty 
belle. There was a mocking tone in her 
voice. 
“ A little,” answered Helen, her cheeks 
blushing. 
“And sing?" 
“ A little,” was the half reply. 
“ Then do us a favor,” exclaimed Miss 
Somers, looking askance at her companions. 
“ Come, I myself will lead you to the piano.” 
Hark! whose masterly touch? Instantly 
was the half-spoken sentence arrested; the 
cold ear and head were turned in listening 
surprise. Such melody! such breadth, 
depth, and vigorous tones! Who is she? 
Siie plays like an angel! 
And hark again! A voice—a flow of 
melody; clear, powerful, and passing sweet. 
Astonishment gives many a fair cheek a deep 
scarlet. 
“ A glorious voice,” said Fred to his 
friends, who, with the rest, had stopped to 
listen. 
“ Who can she—” 
The words were suddenly arrested on his 
lips. She turned from the piano, and the 
unknown was his wife. 
If he was speechless with amazement, she 
was not. 
“How well she talks! Who would have 
thought it ? He has found a treasure,” was 
whispered all round the room. 
" Tell me,” said be when they were alone, 
“ what does this mean? I feel like one 
awakened from a dream.” 
“ Only a country girl,” said Helen ; then 
folded in her husband’s arms, she added, “ 1 
am that little rustic that you would rather 
die than wed.” 
-♦♦♦- 
JANET’S FORTUNE. 
“ And when I die I shall leave my fortune 
to the one who will use it to the best advan¬ 
tage,” said Grandma Leeds, smiling from be¬ 
hind her spectacles to the young gills around 
her. 
“Your fortune, grandma? What will it 
be? That old basket, with its horrid yarn 
and needles, and the never-ending knitting 
work. If so, you need not leave it with me. 
Janet will use it to a far better advantage 
than I could." 
“ Yes, Lettie, you are right; and I’m sure I 
don’t want it, either. H’m, what a fortune, 
to be sure!” 
“ I’ll accept it, grandma, and prize it, if 
you will only add your sweet, contented dis¬ 
position. It would he a fortune which none 
of us need despise.” 
Janet Leeds was the youngest of the fami¬ 
ly, and the plainest. She had a sweet, fresh 
face, and tender eyes; but these paled into 
ugliness before Let tie’s black orbs and shining 
curls, and the blonde loveliness of belle Mar¬ 
garet. So she settled back in the chimney 
corner, and waited on grandma, or assisted 
the maid in tlie housework. 
Once in a while she ventured out to a party 
in t be village, but so seldom that people never 
observed her. That made it unpleasant, and 
she staid at home still closer. 
But on that morning, while they sat, chat¬ 
ting with grandma, she fclL a deal of real dis¬ 
content, for the first time iu months. 
Clara Bosworth, her bosom friend, was to 
give a party that evening, and she could not 
go. For weeks preparations bad been going 
on in their quiet family. She had given up 
the money saved for a new winter cloak, 
that Lottie’s green silk might be re-trimmed 
for the occasion, and the best dress she had 
in the world w T as a plain, garnet-colored pop¬ 
lin with black velvet, trimmings. 
She had faintly suggested that she might 
wear that, but the cry of dismay from her 
sisters silenced her. 
“ Go, and wear that old poplin!” cried 
Lettie, from the clouds of white billowy lace 
that was to adorn the green silk. “You must 
be crazy!” 
“ 1 should think so,” chimed Margaret, 
who was fitting a lace bertha over the waist 
of the delicate lilac satin. “Do you want 
Austin Bosworth to think us a family of 
paupers? It is to be n grand affair, and 
Clara expects all who honor it with their 
presence to pay her respect enough to dress 
respectably. It is Austin’s first appearance 
after liis European tour, and surely you do not 
want him to think meanly of us?” 
The tears came up, but Jauct was brave, 
and no one saw them. 
That night, when the two girls—the one 
in her dark beauty and wonderfully becom¬ 
ing array, the other all delicacy, her fair, 
pearl loveliness enhanced by the pale purple 
color of her splendid dress—came laughing 
into grandma's room, a little shadow dark¬ 
ened her face, and she found it very hard to 
keep back the tears. 
“ Fine feathers make fine birds, but fine 
birds do not always sing the sweetest, Janie,” 
said grandma, after they were gone. “ i 
know who is the true one in this family. 1 
know my little singing bird, Janie, and she 
is dearer than a dozen fine ladies. Austin 
and Clara will come to-morrow, and he will 
tell us about his travels in foreign lands, and 
you will he far happier than you would he 
up at the house to-night, with dancing and 
confusion." 
“ I suppose so, grandma;” and Janet took 
her seat by the fire and went on knitting 
with a peaceful face. 
The elder sisters came home with crum¬ 
pled plumage, but. in high spirits. 
Austin Bosworth had returned a hand¬ 
some, polished gentleman, and had flirted 
desperately with Lellie. 
“ Why, grandma, he almost proposed to 
her 1” laughed Margaret, who was engaged 
to Judge Leonard's hopeful son, and there¬ 
fore, hud no place for jealousy. “ More than 
one of the company predicted that it would 
be a match.” 
“ Don’t count your chickons before, they 
are hatched,” called grandma from her pil¬ 
low. “ Mr. Austin Bosworth is no fool, I 
can tell you!” 
“ Wbat an old croaker!” 
They were entering their chamber across 
the hall, but grandmother’s ears were not 
dulled by age, and she clearly heard them. 
“ Don’t mind them, grandma,” whispered 
Janet, who had waited to help them lay 
aside their finery. 
“ Mind them! Do you think I shall, 
Janet Leeds?” 
Next day Austin Bosworth came. He 
was too familiar with the old house to stop 
for bell-ringing, ant! he entered, crossing the 
hall directly past the parlor door, where 
Margaret and Lettie waited in their tasteful 
afternoon costumes, and walked straight to 
Grandma Leeds’ room. 
She was there with her work, her placid 
face beaming beneath the white lace bor¬ 
dered cap. 
A graceful, girlish figure half knelt beside 
her, wreathing with deft fingers a hunch of 
evergreens into a frame for a mantel orna¬ 
ment, aud her eyes were lifted smiling into 
the old lady’s lace. 
He entered and closed the door, before 
either saw him. 
“ Grandma Leeds!” 
“Why, bless my heart, it is Austin! 
Come here, my boy!” 
And the fine gentleman came and gave 
both hands to her in his delight. 
“Janie, my little playmate, too ! What 
a happy meeting! Clara came down, 
dressed for a call, and declared she would 
come, hut 1 told her no ! I knew the amount 
of gallantry 1 should be obliged to use, and 
I preferred thut my first visit should be like 
the old one.” 
“ You are right. We arc better pleased 
to have it so, are we not, Janet?” said 
grandma. 
His call lengthened itself into t-wo hours, 
and during that time he told pleasant sto¬ 
ries and chattered like the boy of bygone 
days, hut not once did Margaret’s or Lettic’s 
name pass his lips. 
When he went away he met them coming 
with disappointed laces from the parlor, 
where they had been waiting for him ; but 
he only lifted his hat and passed out. Then 
grandma and Janie received a sound scold¬ 
ing, such as only these two knew how to 
give, and the shadows of discontent again 
fell on Janet’s spirits. 
All, that, long, cheerless winter! What a 
story Janet eould tell you of disappoint¬ 
ments, of happy parties in which she hud no 
share, of moonlight rides, of joy and merri¬ 
ment.’ Skv had oiwy that one comforter, 
kind, patient grandma; for now that Austin 
Bosworth hud come, the way was harder 
than before. 
He came and escorted Lettie to parties, 
and sometimes dialled with grandma, but 
nothing more. She saw nothing more—she 
did not catch the good-natured smiles he 
gave her from t he sleigh as lie rode away— 
and Lettie never told her how often lie asked 
for her. Alone with grandma, Janet wished 
for better things, and wondered why she 
was so harshly dealt with. 
At last even the society of her aged com¬ 
forter was denied her, and in her bed the old 
lady gradually laded away. Day and night 
Janet sat beside lier, with the knowledge 
that she avos beyond earthly help—waiting 
upon her, yielding to the childish whims, 
and shutting out everything youthful aud 
beautiful from her sight. 
“ Playing household angel,” Margaret said. 
“ Working lor grandma’s fortune of old 
shoes aud worsted stockings,” Lettie c ruelly 
added. 
“Doing her duty by the faithful woman 
who had taken the t liree motherless children 
into lier heart,, and filled the lost one’s place, 
so far as God permitted," her own heart said, 
and steadily she worked on. 
The first of May brought invitations to 
the last ball at the Bosworth house, and 
while the two elder sisters laid out the 
finery, Janet folded her tiny missive and hid 
it away next to her heart as a sacred bit of 
paper, hearing Austin’s firm, broad chirogra¬ 
ph} upon it. 
That night grandma rvas very ill, and 
when Margaret aud Lettie fluttered in Avith 
their gay dresses, Janet mot them and al¬ 
most forcibly put them out of the room. 
“ I beg you, girls, to have a little respect 
for poor grandma—she is very ill to-niglit. ’ 
“ Nonsense! Don’t be a fool, Janet—any¬ 
body would think she was dying.” 
“ I believe she is.” 
Their reply came in a violent slam of the 
door, and Janet was left alone with her pa¬ 
tient. 
The hours dragged wearily, and overcome 
by her long, sleepless watches, Janet fell fast 
' asleep. 
Tavo hours later she aAvoke Avith a start, 
and in an instant she saAv that dread change 
visible in grandma’s face. 
Like one in a dream, she walked to her 
father’s door, and awakened him. 
“ Father, grandma is worse. I believe her 
dying. You must go to Dr. Berne. You 
will find him at the ball. Go quickly!” 
She Avent back and sat there wearily tvait- 
ing for something—for a sound, a sign from 
the dying woman; but none came. SloAvIy, 
but perceptibly, the lines settled around the 
pleasant mouth, and the dark shadows crept 
over the placid face, but no sound issued 
from the pale lips. 
Janet bent her head. There was a faint 
flutter—no more, and she clasped her hands. 
Would grandma die there before her eyes, 
and never speak a ivord ?” 
She caught the cold hand in her own and 
cried aloud ; 
“ Grandma! speak to be 1 speak to your 
little Janet 1 Don’t you heed me, grandma ?” 
But grandma heard nothing. The chill¬ 
ness of death had settled down, aud even as 
she knelt there, the breath fled, and Janet 
Avas alone. 
She understood it all when she arose, and 
she sank hack half fainting in the arm chair 
near the bed. 
“ Janet, my poor darling 1 ” 
She lifted her head. Austin Bosworth was 
leaning over her. 
“My little girl! Why did you not send 
word to me to-night, and let me share your 
sorrow ? ” 
“ You, Austin?” 
“Yes, have 1 not-. Ah, forgive me! 
This is no time or place. I missed you as I 
have always missed you, hut thought it Avas 
your own pleasure to remain at home. When 
your father came in with a while, frightened 
face, and whispered to Dr. Berne, 1 knew 
you Averc in trouble. I came at once, and, 
Janie, I shall not again leave you.” 
She knew his meaning, and did not put 
him away, Avhen he held her close in his 
arms and drew her into the parlor. 
Margaret and Lettie, coming in with their 
faces horror-stricken, suav him holding her 
in his arms, her tired head resting wearily 
upon his shoulder, and the proud Lettie 
said : 
“ Mr Bosworth—I am surprised ! ” 
“ You need not be. This is my privilege, 
now and forever.” 
Three days after, they gathered in that 
same parlor to hear grandma’s last Avill aud 
testament read. After some little directions, 
it said: 
“ And tomybeIoA r ed granddaughter, Janet 
Leeds, I bequeath the Holmes estate, together 
with my entire stock of furnit ure and money, 
amounting to ten thousand dollars.” 
Janet’s father smiled upon his astonished 
and crest-fallen daughters. 
“ It was mother’s whim ! She never de¬ 
sired it to he known. Therefore you Avere 
ignorant of the fact tliat she had a dollar 
beyond the annuity I held for her.” 
When, six months later, Austin and Janet 
were married, her eldest sisters dared to say 
that he married her for her money. He knew 
better, and so did I. 
-octal (topics. 
WINE vs. CANNON. 
Wendell Phillips, in ail address in the 
Music Hull in Boston, once said, “ I Uuoav a 
soldier in the army of Llie Potomac who Avas 
picked up iu the streets of Philadelphia one 
year ago a complete Avreek, a confirmed 
inebriate, but who was, by the love of a Sis¬ 
ter of Charity of a Boston home, placed once 
more on his feet. He was at Ball’s Bluff, 
and three times with unloaded musket 
charged upon the enemy. He was one of 
the six who heroically defended and brought 
away the body of the fallen leader of that 
bloody fight. The captain of the company 
to which he belonged died in his arms, re¬ 
ceiving the last words of consolation from 
his lips. 
“ He was afterward conspicuous in the 
conflict, uutil the orders were given for each 
one to seek his own safety. Removing some 
of his apparel he plunged into the inhospita¬ 
ble river, and after great exertion landed on 
the opposite bank, seven miles below the en¬ 
campment. Nearly exhausted, half clad, 
half starved, he finally reached the camp. 
The captain of the next company to Avhich 
he belonged kindly said to him, pouring out 
a glass of wine, ‘ Let me give you this; you 
will perish without it.’ ‘ I thank you, sir,’ 
said the soldier, * but I would sooner face all 
the cannon of the enemy than that glass of 
SCOTTISH TYPES. 
In no country, perhaps, taking into con¬ 
sideration its small size, are to be observed 
so many different types of features and form 
among its inhabitants as in Scotland. It is 
owing no doubt to the variety of peoples 
Avkieh have, at one time, either invaded or 
settled in the country; but the tendency of 
the age is so decidedly to efface rather than 
to develope distinctions of race and charac¬ 
ter, that it is surprising this diversity should 
not have died out more extensively. 
On the decline of the Roman Empire, the 
southeast of Scotland Avas seized on by the 
Anglo-Saxons, t lie Scots or Gaels from Ire¬ 
land, otherwise Kells, swarmed on the north i 
II 
and west, while the Scandinavians, Norse¬ 
men, Danes and Frisans invaded and colon¬ 
ized the coast. And to this day we must 
still look for the Kelt in the western High¬ 
lands, for the Scandinavian type, as avc ap¬ 
proach the east or western shores, and for 
the Saxon, more or less pure, in t lie Lowlands. 
In the shires of Berwick, Roxburgh, Pee¬ 
bles, Dumfries and the Loth ions, the farmers 
are an exceedingly fine, lengthy breed of 
men, six feet, to six feet three inches of stat¬ 
ure being by no means uncommon. They 
have well formed hands and lent, long t highs, 
are broad in the shoulder, but spare in flesh, 
and, unlike the English of the same class, 
they retain the last peculiarity in an ad¬ 
vanced period Of life. They are intelligent, 
cautious, prudent in their money affairs, well 
educated; ami their laboring men are not 
very far behind them in their good qualities. 
Between them and the fishermen, or as they 
arc generally called, the fishers, there is, in 
almost every point, a marked difference. 
-- 
HIGH-NECKED BABIES. 
Tiie NeAv York correspondent of the 
Philadelphia Telegraph Avritca:—“There is 
a new fashion among babies. Being a 
bachelor, and having written poetry about 
infants, I naturally take an interest in them 
so great as to every morning read the Blue- 
eyed-baby Personals, and the ITealthy-infant- 
to-adopt-oul advertisements, in the r.eAvs- 
papers. Moreover, among my recent visits 
to young married people, 1 have been shown 
various portions of the anatomy of several 
recently arrived infants. 1 have invariably 
observed that these infants wore dresses 
with high necks to them, and on inquiring 
was informed that this is the fashion. Is 
this an improvement or is it, not. ? Former¬ 
ly, the more decollete an infant was, the more 
cherubic his appearance avus thought to he. 
Not editing a journal of health, or a month¬ 
ly for the nursery, I express no opinion on 
the superior healthiness Of the arrangement, 
hut merely record the fact that the high 
neck and the long sleeve are considered the 
thing Avitii the fashionable New York baby 
of the period.” 
-4-*-*- 
YOUNG LADIES AS COOKS. 
A neav mania has sprung up among the 
Edinburg ladies,—not quite a useless one,— 
a fancy to learn to cook. Several of the 
leading confectioners advertise “cooking 
taught, and have large kitchens and baker¬ 
ies fitted up for the purpose. Until recently 
the classes have only been attended by 
young ladies, who will probably find the 
use of the practice when they become wives 
aud mothers; but lately the desire to achieve 
Avonders in the culinary depurltuent, lias 
spread to those who, in all probability, Avill 
never see the inside of their own kitchens 
Avben they come to rule a household; and 
dainty damsels put off their silk attire, their 
rings and their ornaments, aud their adorn¬ 
ments ; and, donning linen dresses and 
white aprons, become for the nonce amateur 
cooks. 
-■ - 
SOCIAL CURIOSITIES. 
“ Whenever,” said Madame de Stael, “ I 
see Mr. S., I feel the same pleasure that I 
receive from looking at a fond couple; he 
and his self-love live so happily together.” 
One of the gentler sex says that the 
heaven of the strong-minded women is 
“ Avhcre buttons grow in their proper places, 
and where men cease bothering and needles 
are at rest.” 
Reporters are often unconsciously satiri¬ 
cal. A morning paper says in an obituary: 
“ Mr. - was an estimable citizen. He 
lived uprightly. He died with perfect resig¬ 
nation. He was recently married.” 
At a collection made at a charity fair held 
in-, a lady offered the plate to a rich 
man well known for bis stinginess. “ I have 
nothing,” AA'as his curt reply. “ Then take 
something, sir,” she answered; “ you know 
I am beggiug for the poor.” 
A Mrs. Levi, who died in Paterson, N. 
J., recently, before breathing lier lust, called 
her family (among whom arc grown-up 
children) to h r bedside, and said that in all 
her married life of twenty-five years neither 
a cross word nor look had ever passed be¬ 
tween herself and husband. 
A little girl in a Western town, after 
studying for some time a picture of the 
Magdalen reclining on her face and weeping, 
suddenly turned to her mother and exclaim¬ 
ed, “ Mamma, I know why Mis. Magdalen 
is crying. It is because Mr. Magdalen does 
not buy her clothes enough.” 
A "waggish fellow, Avbo does not boast of 
much personal beauty, tells that he once 
went to a druggist to get some morphine for 
a sick friend. The assistant objected to give 
it to him without a prescription, evidently 
fearing that, lie intended to commit suicide. 
“ Pshaw,” said he, “ do I look like a man 
who would kill himself?” Gazing steadily 
at him a moment, the young mau answered, 
“ I don’t know. It seems to me if I looked 
like vou, I should be greatly tempted to kill 
myself.” 
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