OORE’S RURAL NEW-YORK 
sighed and thought of the lilien like those 
before her which one time so long ago she had 
given somebody, with also a large share of 
loving, secret thoughts of future gladness. 
And as she replaced the withered spray within 
the liible, the sick woman caught a glimpse of 
them and said, feebly, but with a smile, “ Sure, 
they're not much, miss, but the glntleman who 
came afther to read to me gave the flowers one 
night to my child a* she was sarchlng for a 
doetbor late In the evening, bekase of the sud 
dint sickness which happened to me. She was 
crying hard, ma'am, and the glntleman he 
stopped her with a word or two so kind like 
and tinder, miss, and gave her the flowers, and 
himself slnt the doetbor Jlst, and came the 
next day, do ye rnlnd, to see the like of a poor 
body like me. Ob, sure, he was a kind one— 
Saints preserve him! Hut I'm afther Inter¬ 
rupting yees, miss; excuse me, plaze." And 
the woman laid silently while Zidk, with diffi¬ 
culty restraining her tears, read on and on, un¬ 
til at last she was obliged to return to her 
home. Her face had grown suddenly pale and 
her voice, as she bade the invalid good-by, 
was sorrowfully tender and had the sound of 
tears in it, which made the woman wonder 
silently. 
"And I have treated him so," thought Zide. 
slowly walking homeward, and so engrossed 
with her thoughts that she failed to notice the 
gathering gloom overhead; nor did she even 
hear the distant ramble of thunder, which 
sent other loss self-absorbed Individuals hurry¬ 
ing home fast. “ It was Arthur Howard, 1 
kuow It was he who used to read to Mrs. Mulli¬ 
gan, and 1 see It all now. How could I be so 
senseless as to believe Kate Warfield's story 
the more Idle suggest ion of her brother, who 
can't compare with Annum Howard In any 
seuso. The noble, good fellow I Strange that 
1 didn't recognize the lilies a- those f gave him 
at first glance; but I saw it all afterwards; 
there they were, tied with the little blue cord, 
which 1 remember fastening there so hurriedly 
when ho asked for thorn that night. Q i was 
ever a girl so foolish, so wickedly proud and 
unreasonable as I ?" 
Hut Zjdk'h thoughts were suddenly cut 
short, for splash, dash came the shower, tired 
of warning people so long. Down It came In 
very earnest, and Zide thought with dismay of 
her new hat and the dainty boots, which 
"wonld surety be ruined with the mud and 
horrible puddles." Then a gentleman Btepped 
from a stone near by and raised his umbrella 
over the little il (lire so entirely unprepared 
for rain. "Pardon me, Miss Zidk, here, at 
least, you will allow me to Bheltor you until 
you can reach t he car you wish." ZtDK's cheeks 
turned crimson. She raised her eyes timidly 
to moot those looking down at her, and then 
for her lffe could not even say "thank you.” 
"It is certainly very awkward," she thought; 
but there was no help for It unless she went 
Into a store and walled for the rain to eoaee. 
Strange as It may seem she didn't care to go to 
a store; on the contrary, was glad to the depths 
of her heart that Artudr Howard was once 
again beside her. Then began an altercation 
between pride and the desire to bo fraukiy 
just towards him whom she had so unjustly 
and unreasonably condemned. The silent, se¬ 
cret struggle continued during the length of 
the block. Tnen poor little Zidk began In low 
tones;—"Mr, Howard, 1 have been exceed¬ 
ingly rude to you; pardon me, If you can.” 
ARTium Howard replied with the question : 
“ May I come and see you this evening ?" Zidk 
consented with a secret Joy ho little guessed, 
and then an embarrassed silence reigned be¬ 
tween the two who had been so long a part, 
until finally ZiDE entered the car and Howard 
returned to his office. 
Ami so once more Bridget opened the door 
to Mr. Howard, and the welcome that beamed 
from her honest eyes was fully appreciated by 
the visitor. Tula time Zide's message was: 
"Tell Mr. Howard I will be right down," and 
BRiDQETamHed and nodded to herself. "Arrali 1 
its nil right wid the young glntleman this time; 
T know that name by the luk uv his eye and the 
agerness of her. 1 ' 
When Mrs. Herki.kv returned from Boston 
she heard all about Zide’ 9 Flower Mission 
duties, and learned from young Howard soon 
after (during an hour's private Confab with him) 
of what the Mission had dune for him through 
old Mrs. Mulligan's pressed lilies. 
Zide has another mission on hand now—a 
little flower of her own to attend to—a house¬ 
hold flower, which Is called "Our Lily," and 
the fragrance of Its sweet young lire (Ills Zidk’s 
and Arthur’s hearts with never-dying joy. 
—-♦♦♦- 
THE FADED WRAPPER. 
"Are you sorry that father has gone away 
to stay over night, Alice?" said one of Mrs. 
Montgomery's children to his sister. " li rains 
so that no one will call; and nmv mother will 
wear that faded wrapper all day. I heard her 
tell Barbara she should have a good Jong day 
for sewing. She doesn't think It worthwhile 
to set even the dining room table just for us.” 
"Don't you wish she would spill ink on that 
dress, Phillip?" was the answer—“then she 
wouldn't wear It any more.” 
"NoIndeed, I don't want It any worse, for 
she would wear It just the same rainy days and 
when papa Is away.” 
Now'mamma, In the next room, heard this 
discussion of the children, and arose to take a I 
survey of herself in the looking-glass. It was 
not a very pleasing picture that the polished 
surface gave back to her view. 
"Now Harry Warren's mother,” said Phillip, 
"Is always dressed nicely, any time of the 
day." 
“She wears such pretty hows on her hair and 
neck,” said Alice. " But she isn’t half so 
pleasant as our mother," she added loyally, 
"if she does look prettier." 
The mother's eyes glistened as she looked 
down on the old wrapper. 
"To be compared to Aunt Warren,” she 
thought, " and by my own children, too. Who 
would have thought they were such sharp 
little things? They notice every trifle.” 
Mrs. Montgomery’s spirit was quite stirred. 
She would not allow such a rival, she said to 
herself. If «h« could eclipse her. 
“ You shall be disappeduted about the old 
wrapper, for once, Mr. Phillip,” she added 
smiling; so she took a soft white dress, just 
the thing to enliven a dull day. Then she 
puffed her hair In her prettiest style, and pro¬ 
ceeded to dress herself with unusual care. The 
delicate lace collar W'sr* adorned with a bow of 
palest pink, and her hair was tied back with a 
ribbon to match. 
It Is wonderful how these simple additions to 
the toilet changed her whole appearance. A 
little taste doe* much for a woman’s toilet, and 
yet how small, often, la the cost. A simple 
knot of violet or crimson velvet will make a 
dull dress look bright and even elegant. As a 
great painter said, “ trifles make perfection, 
but perfection Is no trifle.” 
Mrs. Montgomery’s face wore a brighter look 
than usual that day, as she entered the nursery. 
Her dreaa had actually raised her spirits; but 
she was hardly prepared for the burst of ad¬ 
miration that greeted her. It is not often that 
compliments are sincere and heart-felt ns were 
those of her little ones that day. But her 
children’s tones quickly changed to one of 
anxiety. “Are you going away anywhere, 
mamma?” they asked directly. 
“ No, dears, I am going to sow on the machine 
all d..y; so we can have a nice time together." 
Little Alice hung over her chair a minute, 
admiringly, and fingered her buttons, as she 
said, with a smile of deep content in her eye: 
“You look nice, mamma." 
Mrs. Montgomery smiled, as she threaded the 
needle of the machine, while Philip added 
proudly: 
" She looks nicer than Harry’s mother, even 
when she has her silk dress on." 
That was reward enough; she had eclipsed 
her rival. 
"I'll remember this day’s lesson,” said the 
mother, in her own heart, and she did remem¬ 
ber It. 
The rainy day dress was doomed, and they 
helped to rip it up with sincere pleasure. It 
made excellent linings for a new one, and it 
often preached its old sermon over, as it hung 
wrong side out In the closet. 
Mothers, when you allow yourselves slovenly 
ways among the little ones, In the seclusion of 
the nursery, remember there's a child there " a 
(akin' notes." Those notes will be read even 
when your head lies low. Of all the bright pic¬ 
tures that hang on momory's wall, there Is 
uone to me so fair as a sweet, loving mother, 
whose appearance was always neat and taste¬ 
ful, even In working dress. Children may love 
an untidy mother, after a fashion, but they can 
never respect her. She cannot keep the bold 
on them In after years that one of the opposite 
habits possesses. Besides, If you are untidy 
yourself, they will probably grow up to Imitate 
you. Don’t neglect the details of dress, that 
add so much to appearance, because there will 
bo “no one about but the children."- Wood's 
Magazine. 
®hi| Jilqaiig ‘Sloijld, 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
The Mormon Country. — By John Codman. 
New York: United states Publishing Co. [IGino. 
—pp. 225.] 
Since the days of Gulliver, with his giants 
and his pigmies, people have been constantly 
traveling and will Insist upon writing books 
about what they have seen. As the laws of de¬ 
mand and supply probably regulate this matter, 
we have no reason to complain of the multi¬ 
plicity of such books; but we can safely say 
that we hope never to Increase the supply by 
our own personal efforts, If people will read 
books of travel and like them, this one Is quite 
as good as the average. The author's liberal 
and apparently Impartial view of Mormondom 
Is not Its least virtue, while Its dullness is prob¬ 
ably not Its least fault. Perhaps prejudice 
against travels In general, and those through 
Monnondom in particular, may havesomethlng 
to do with its dullness. The book is carefully 
written, and bears the imprint of truthfulness, 
which Is more than can be said of many of its 
kind._ 
Tempest Tossed.— By Theodork Tilton. New 
York : Sheldon <& Co. [12 mo.—pp. GOG; price, >1.25.] 
Solomon has said there is “ Nothing new 
under the sun," but had he lived In our day to 
read the effort of this new novelist, he might 
have modified his utterance. Mr. Tilton has 
succeeded In accomplishing that which most 
writers of fiction fail In doing—he has written 
a book about original people in original situa- 
i tlons. One cannot read the first few pages and, 
as is frequently the case with the modern novel, 
divine what Is to be the end and how It is to be 
attained. If the book had no other merit, this 
Is one so rare as to be refreshing. But It has 
others. It is evidently no careless, off-hand 
effort, but evinces the care and revision which 
every book should have before it 1* launched 
upon the sea of modern criticism. The Idea ol 
four person* floating upon a wreck for over six¬ 
teen long years, Is certainty original. The work 
displays lively Imagination and vivid portrayal. 
There Is, to be sure, some Improbability in the 
meeting, at an unknown Island, of all the char¬ 
acters Introduced at thebeglnnlngof the work, 
since they arrive simultaneously, as It were, 
from the four quarters of the globe. Irrespec¬ 
tive of Its Incongruities, however. the work Is 
so far above the average modern novel that It 
should be generally read. 
Merldlana. — By Jules Verner. New York: 
Scribner, Armstrong & Co. [12 mo,—pp. 232.] 
The wonderful feats of courage and prowess 
performed by the little band of English and 
IlusBian Scientists and Philosophers, are sim¬ 
ply Incredible. Verne Is the Harnum of French 
Literature. Think of two men, armed with 
rifles, deliberately killing, In the short apace of 
half an hour, two monstrous African lions and 
three full-grown lionesses, not to speak of the 
Innumerable lion-cubs of which very little no¬ 
tice wa* taken! Shades of Napoleon, listeu, 
A little band of three scientists and one native, 
in a ruined earthwork, keep at bay for ten 
days and sight* an army of 350 bloodthirsty 
savages, finally kill off untold numbers of them 
and make good their own retreat in a portable 
steamboat. This is modern warfare with a ven¬ 
geance. 
The A utoliioarnpli v ol K<1 wind Wortley Moil¬ 
man ! with a 1‘refaoe by it. hr ei.ton MaoKkn- 
ZIK, Lb. ll. Philadelphia: T. B, Peterson ic 
Brothers. UOmo.—pp. ,m Price 11.75.] 
Autobiographies, like books of travel, are 
generally more interesting to the author than 
to any other person. This one, however con¬ 
tains so much interesting Information of peo¬ 
ple other than the young nobleman of whose 
life it treats, and of society four or five genera¬ 
tions back, that all must be pleased with it. 
A Vnlunblc Iteceipt Book has Just been Is¬ 
sued by Messrs. Danportii & Bristol of 6D7 
Broadway, New York. It Is emitied “Dr. 
Brown’s Receipts or Information for the Mil¬ 
lion :--An Invaluable collection of original and 
practical receipts. Household, Family. Domes¬ 
tic, Agricultural, Medicinal and Miscellaneous; 
with directions for preparing all the Thomso- 
nlun Remedies, and directions for course of 
treatment—to which Is added some original 
suggestions pertaining to the Laws of Life and 
Health.” The work Is In compact form, uud 
comprises over five hundred receipts. It Isa 
good book to “have In the house— " and the 
fact that Dr. C. O. Bristol (a long-time editor, 
and the originator of Bristol's Bansaparilla, so 
noted years ago,) is one of its sponsors, Is a suf- 
fleent Indorsement of Its value. See advertise¬ 
ment. 
The Patron’s Hand-Book.—Under this title 
Maj. J. K. Hudson of the Kansas Farmer, To¬ 
peka, has Issued a work for the use and benefit 
of the Order of the Patrons of Husbandry 
which comprises, In some forty closely-printed 
octavo pages, much valuable Information. It 
includes “Constitutions, By-Laws of National 
Grange, Btate, County and Subordinate 
Granges, Declaration of Principles, Manual of 
Practice, Parliamentary Buies and Usages, 
History, Decisions. Directions, &c., &c., of 
value to members, or those wishing to become 
Informed on the subject." The Hand-Book Is 
sent post-paid, In marble board, for 25 cts.—full 
cloth binding, 40 cts. 
Colton’* Map of New York City.—G. W. & C. 
B. Colton & Co. send us a very complete new 
pocket map of New York City, Brooklyn, Jer¬ 
sey City, Hoboken, etc. It is a great conven¬ 
ience, especially to those not familiar with the 
city and environs. 
New Music.— We have received from Wm. A. 
Pond & Co., 540 Broadway, New York, “ Dan¬ 
bury News Man”—an Illustration by W. O. 
Fiske, a mixture of music and joke, the music 
being easier to understand than the jokes. 
"Mulligan Guard," quadrille for four hands, 
by D- Hraitam. "Trotdu Cavalier,” arranged 
for eight hands, by A, W- Bkjrg; desirable for 
schools. “Make Believe I’m Dreaming,” bal¬ 
lad, by Violetta. “On the Shores of that 
Beautiful River," song and chorus, by Chas. D. 
Blake. “Join the Dance," pulka song, by 
Adeline Muriouklli. For baritone In A and 
tenor la C, "I Love My Darling Lassie," mezzo- 
soprano song, by A. H. Pease. “ Happy Hours," 
almble melodies for learners—eight numbers 
Issued. “Marie Alexamlrowna Waltz." by 
Charles Godfrey. "It Reminds Me, My 
Loved One, of Thee," ballad, by George W. 
Mohoan. Songs of little Jennie Yeaman, 
" The Boot Black " and " Sailing oti the Lake," 
by David Bbaham. “ He Kissed Her and She 
Kissed Him," by Samuel N. Mitchell. “ Old 
Black Doe," by Stephen C. Foster, song and 
chorus. 
From Louis Mkyer, 1113 Chestnut street, 
Philadelphia“ Sleep, Dearest, Sleep,” a sere¬ 
nade, by F. A. Kulling— a very agreeable 
mezzo-soprano song, not difficult, and of com¬ 
fortable range. 
THREE WORDS OF STRENGTH. 
There are three lessons I wonld write— 
Three words as with a burning pen— 
In treeing* of oternal light. 
Upon the hearts of men. 
Have hope. Though clouds environ now, 
And gladness hide* her face in scorn, 
Put thou the shadow from thy brow 
No night but hath it* morn. 
Have faith. Where'er thy bark is driven— 
The calm’s disport, the tempest’s mirth— 
Know this : God rules the host of heaven, 
Th’ inhabitants of earth. 
Have love ; and not alone for one, 
But man, ns man, thy brother call; 
And scatter like the circling sun, 
Thy chanties on all. 
Thus grave these lessons on thy soul— 
Hope, Faith and Love—and thon shalt find 
Strength where life’s surges rudest roll. 
Light where thou else were blind. 
THE GENTLENESS OF POWER. 
There Is no gentleness In the world like that 
which is manifest by power. To see a strong, 
giant-built man meet In the way a little child, 
and raise it up, and say to it, " bles*, you, my 
darling;" to see his great, coarse hands, and 
his arms that are like boar’spaws, go down, and 
accompanying the act with some sweet words, 
lift the child up to his bosom—that la a most 
beautiful Bight. There nevor was a breastpin 
in a man’s bosom to be compared with a sweet 
little child. To see a slender, pale-faced wo¬ 
man and mother take up a child Is beautiful; 
we expect that; but. to see a great brawny man 
take up a child, with tcudcrtiesa and gentle¬ 
ness, Is beautiful Indeed. Everybody marvels 
at that. " A lit-tle child shall lead them.” 
Nothing Is so sweet as the softness and gen¬ 
tleness of power. A man that has a gigantic 
intellect; a man that can control battalions 
and armies In the field ; a man that has cour¬ 
age, and will, and determination; a man that 
ha* a lordly pride, and knowB his strength, and 
moves among men with power-such a man, 
who la subdued by the Influence of the dear 
spirit of God, and who has such sweet and gen¬ 
tleness that he treats all men with lenity, and 
kindness, and forbearance, and patience, has 
what is here meant by gentleness.— H. W. 
Beecher. 
• - ■ 
TRUE PRAYER. 
To present a petition Is one thing ; to prose¬ 
cute a suit is another. Most prayers answer to 
the former; but successful praypr corresponds 
to the latter. God’s people frequently lodge 
their petition In the court of Heaven, and there 
they let It He. They do not press their suit. 
They do not employ other means of furthering 
It beyond the presenting of It. The whole of 
prayer does not consist In taking hold of God. 
The main matter Is bolding on. How many are 
Induced by the slightest uppearance of repulse 
to let go, as Jacob did not 1 1 have been struck 
with the manner In which petitions are usually 
concluded—“ And your petitioners will ever 
pray." So “men ought always pray (to God) 
and never faint.” Payson says, “The promise 
of God Is not to the act, but to the habit of 
prayer.”— Kevins. 
-»♦» — 
THOUGHTS FOR THINKERS. 
When a man finds at last that there Is some¬ 
thing bevond this to live for, the moment that 
conception gets Into his mind, life Is transfig¬ 
ured and glorified into a nobler sphere of ac¬ 
tion. It becomes always glorious and fresh. 
Some men will tell you that life is tasteless, 
wearisome and exhausted ; In every case they 
are men who have tried to live In a narrow, 
selfish manner. Life 13 transfigured to every 
true, loving, brave, and diligent soul. Each 
man faithful In his sphere, transfigures it, and 
makes grand the humbles: position. We may 
say that the act of transfiguration takes place 
when a man realizes his own s nil and Its worth 
and work. Do we all realize that in us is an 
element which will outlast the stars?—Dr. 
Chapin. 
Pray ; though the gin you ask for 
May never comfort your fears— 
May nevor repay your pleading— 
Yet pray, and with hopeful tears, 
An answer, not that you long for 
But choicer, will come one day. 
Your eyes are too dim to see It, 
Ye. strive, nnd wall, and pmy. 
I Adelaide Proctor. 
Peace is the enjoyment of God's love, the 
harmony of the soul with God, und this never 
can be maintained by any mere forms of right 
thoughts, or right views, or speculations, but 
only by being right and doing right.— Norman 
McLeod. 
Words are mighty, words are living; 
Serpents with their venomous stings. 
Or bright angels, crowding round us, 
With heaven’s light upon their wings; 
Every word has Its own spirit. 
True or false, that never dies; 
Every word man’s lips have uttered 
Echoes In God’s skies. [Afis* Proctor. 
