NWS 1 ' - <* 
JULY 48 
ORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
I WONDER WHY. 
BV M. D. BRUTE. 
I wonder why this world's good things 
Should fall tn such unequal shares; 
Why some should taste of all the Joys, 
And others only feel the cares ! 
1 wonder why the sunshine bright 
Should fail in paths some people tread. 
While others shiver tn the shade 
Of clonds that gather overhead! 
1 wonder why the trees that tmng 
So full of luscious fruit should grow 
Only where some may reach and eat, 
While others faint and thirsty go! 
Why should sweet flowers bloom for some, 
For others only thorns be found ? 
And some grow rich on fruitful earth, 
While others till but barren ground? 
I wonder why the hearts of some 
O’erflow with Joy and happiness, 
While others go on llieir lone way 
Unblessed with aught of tenderness! 
I wonder why the eyes of some 
Should ne’er be moistened with a tear. 
While others weep from worn till night, 
Their hearts so crushed with sorrow here ? 
Ah ! well; we may not know. Indeed, 
The whys, t he wherefores of each life ! 
But this we know—there’s One who seos 
And watches us through joy and strife. 
Each life Its mission here fulfills, 
And only Uc may know the end, 
And lovlug Him wo may be strong, 
Tho’ storm or sunshine He may send. 
<§ur ^torji-S^Uffr. 
THE BLIND GOVEENESS, 
BY MRS. C. E. BOWEN. 
[Concluded from page 34, lust No,| 
Tub struggle ended, however, at last, and 
pinning on again the cover she had just taken 
off tho canvas she hastened ba^k to the sohool- 
room, where ebe found Mrs. Lorrlmer looking 
over Floia’s sums. 
“1 am come back,” sho said, “toask if you 
will lot mo take charge of the lessons while you 
go and lie down. I am sure your head will not 
got better till you rest." 
Mrs. Lorimor thanked her very warmly. 8he 
felt too 111 not to accept the offer gladly, and 
only waited to show her what the children had 
to do. 
“ I shall take charge of them all the after¬ 
noon," said Mary, “so pray do not think It 
necessary to disturb yourself again to-day on 
their account.” 
Mrs. Lorrliucr’s thanks made her feel secrotly 
ashamed of herself that this was the first time 
that she could ever remember having offered 
to relieve her for an hour or two of the lessons. 
She was tired enough of them by tho time they 
were all finished, and thoroughly glad to Bee 
the books shut up In the cupboard. 
“And yet," thought she, “ Mrs. Lorrlmer has 
to teach for a much longer time, day after day, 
whether she Ib feeling well or 111, and here I am 
tired out after only two hours of it.” 
This first little effort of Mary’s was followed 
by others day by day, and they brought their 
own reward in the pleasure It was to feel that 
she was beginning to know Mrs. Lorrlmer bet¬ 
ter, for under the reserve and quietness of that 
lady’s manner was hidden a depth of feeling 
and character which few would suspect. 
A few months later Mary wrote to her uncle 
a letter, from which we will m&ue the follow¬ 
ing extract: 
“ You were indeed right in saying that you 
thought Mrs. Lorrlmer was a person to be loved. 
1 am beginning to know hor as I never did be¬ 
fore, and to value her accordingly. She is so 
affectionate and full of feeling; it Is quite 
pleasant to go ami sit with her and tell her all 
one s little troubles as they arise. Mamina gets 
gradually weaker anrl weaker, and I sometimes 
tremble lest we may be going to lose her. She 
is getting as fond of Mrs. Lorrlmer as I am. 
She Jlkcs to hear her road and talk In her own 
nice way, she says it soothes her so much.” 
About five months later Mrs. MortlmeT was 
taken very 1U, and in a few days her husband 
and children were mourning her loss with the 
deepest sorrow. 
Now It was that Mrs. Lorrimer came forth In 
the character of comforter and sympathizing 
frieud. It was she on whom all seemed to lean 
for support In that sad hour; she to whom 
Mary exclaimed in the anguish of the day, 
when, the funeral being over, they had return¬ 
ed to the dreary stillness of the house, “Oh, 
Mrs. Lorrlmer, dear, kind Mrs. Lorrlmer, what 
should we do without youl" 
Mr. Littleton stayed some time with them at 
this period, and saw with great satisfaction 
that hla niece had learned to make a real friend 
of her whom she used to speak of as “ only the 
governess." 
Things began to go on again In their old rou¬ 
tine ; but Mary felt now painfully the responsi¬ 
bility laid on her as sole mistress of the house, 
and she dung more and more to Mrs. Lorrimer 
as a guide and adviser. 
And the governess's life was no longer lived 
alone as to sympathy and consideration. She 
opened the long pent-up tale of her bereave- i 
ments, and told Mary of the preclousnc «3 of i 
the husband she had lost some years before: 1 
how they had known and loved each other long 
before they were able to marry, and then how ’ 
after only five years of wedded happiness he 
had begun to give symptoms of consumption 
which obliged them to go to Madeira, by the 
doctor's advice. At first he rallied there so 
much that she was sanguine of his perfect re¬ 
covery ; but then came a change somewhat 
suddenly, and he got rapidly worse, and in 
about six weeks he died. 
“And were you left all alone so far away in 
another land ?” asked Mary. 
“God did not leave me without comfort," 
said Mrs. Lorrimer; “ it la at such times of sor¬ 
row that He draws olosest to one, and in the 
time of my anguish He helped mo to bear with 
submission to fils will what He bad seen It was 
needful to inflict upon me.” 
“Did you live long at Hampstead after¬ 
wards ?” asked Mary. 
“ About two years. I liked to continue near 
“ BKST AND KINDEST OF FRIENDS, WHAT CAN BE THE MATTER?” 
“ I hod my two darlings left me,” said Mrs. 
Lorrimer. “ I returned homo with them, and 
took a small house at Hampstead; but sorrow 
followed sorrow. First of all my little Jamie 
sickened of scarlet fever—It was of a malignant 
kind then much about In the neighborhood. 
He died in a week. The very day he was burled 
ray sweet Mabel complained of pain In the 
head. I saw tho flushed cheek and the languid 
the graves of my darlings, and to plant flowers 
round them. But the bank broke In which my 
husband had placed all hla money, so my little 
income was suddenly taken from mo, and I had 
no resourco but going oat as a governess. I 
shrank from it at first, but I know I had the 
power of thus earning a livelihood, for T had 
been thoroughly educated. Somo friends pro¬ 
cured me a situation in a family In Now York. 
The early years of her BLINDWK83 were soothed and brightened by this child. 
eye, and I felt the little palm of the hand dry 
and hot just as her brother's had been. Two 
more day's, and she also was In the midst or 
that terrible fever from which she was not to 
recover. It was soon over, and I laid her be¬ 
side little Jamie. My two precious ones were 
both gone, and I was indeed left alone.” 
“Oh, Mrs. Lorrlmer,” said Mary, who was 
weeping with pity, “ I wonder you could out¬ 
live such a sorrow.” 
i I lived there three years, and then I came to 
you, where 1 am much happier than I ever ex¬ 
pected to be again. God has been very good tn 
bringing rue where I meet with so much affec¬ 
tionate kiudness as is shown me here." 
“ And yet you were with us such a long time 
before we seemed to know anything about 
you,” said Mary. “ I do not like to think how 
long you had to bear all your sorrows alone, 
yet ours you haye shared with us so tenderly,” 
and as she spoke she warmly embraced Mrs 
Lorrlmer, who as fondly returned the caress. 
Several years passed on. Phyllis grew too old 
Tor the school-room, as far as lessons were con¬ 
cerned. Flora was growing a great girl, but hor 
education would havo to be continued for a 
couple of years longer at least, so that Mrs. 
Lorrlmer was likely to be in requisition for 
some time; and Indeed Mr. Mortimer valued 
her too much as a frieud and protector for his 
motherless girls In his absence every day ever 
o ■ nnk fora momont of giving up her services 
tf he oould retain them. 
Edmund had gone Into the army; Reginald 
was in his father’s office; with these exceptions 
everything was going on much as usual for a 
considerable time. 
But a depression had crept over Mrs. Lorrl¬ 
mer of late which Mary could not but notice, 
sometimes she feared she was reeling III, or 
that some bad news must have arrived; she 
saw that she no longer worked with her neodle 
as formerly, and her books were laid aside a 
good deal except In lesson time with Flora. 
Know ng that her eyesight was not strong, sho 
thought, little of this, but her dejection dis¬ 
tressed hor. 
Ono day Mrs, Lorrlmer made the unusual re¬ 
quest of Mary and Phyllis that they would 
manage Flora’s studies between them for a 
fortnight, as she had business in New York 
and should be glad to go there for that time. ' 
“ Yes, dear Mrs. Lorrlmer, we will gladly take 
charge of Flora," said Mary, “ and pray stay as 
long os you like, tho change will do you good ; 
hut how wo shall miss you I” 
“ Come back quick, dear Lorry,” said Flora, 
caressing her. “ I shall not like doing my les¬ 
sons half so well with any one else as with 
you." 
And so on the following Monday they drove 
her to the station aud saw her off in tho train. 
She returned at the end of a fortnight. Mary 
watched her anxiously to see If she seemed 
bettor and happier for tho change, but her 
placid leaturea wore an air of resignation rather 
than of cheerfulness. 
Oue night Mary had occasion to go to her 
room rather late after they had retired to rest. 
She was surprised to find that she was still in 
hor evening dress, and sitting at the table ap¬ 
parently engaged with somo large shoots of 
paper which were lying before her. 
•Something In her manner when she entered 
made Mary think that, she did not wish her to 
notice the olrcmnstauce of her being busy at 
so late an hour, so sho merely asked her the 
question Bha wanted to and was leaving the 
room, when she callod her buck, and, pointing 
to tho papers, said : 
“1 think you mutt wonder what 1 am doing 
at so late an hour, Mary, and 1 should like you 
to know, for they concern a great Morrow that 
is coming upon imr-ono that 1 cannot hide 
from you all much longer." 
And Mrs. Lorrltncr hid hor face In her hands, 
and for a few moments wept silently. 
My own dear Mrs. Lorrlmer, my best and 
klndost of friends, what can be the matter?" 
said Mary, as, kneeling down by her side, she 
laid her head on her shoulder. “Surely no 
fresh trouble can be in store for you, who seem 
to have lost everything already ?" 
“No, Mary, not everything. I have enjoyed 
many blessings, even since I lost my beloved 
onoa and my money, and one of the greatest of 
these has been my eyesight.” 
Mary started and glanced at the papers which 
were covered with raised characters. Then she 
looked nervously at the soft, sad eyes that were 
looking down at her. 
“Dear Mrs. Lorrlmer, what do you mean? 
bil°d?" 0t b ° 8Ur<l,y that y ° U fQar becom inff 
“I have ceased to doubt upon the subjoot, 
Mary, since I went to New York. For many 
months I have felt uncoinfortablo and fearful 
that my sight was getting dim, and I remem¬ 
bered with alarm that my father's eyes began 
to Tall him In middle Ufa, and that he became 
eventually quite blind. Nothing could be done: 
he had a disease in them for which there was 
no cure. 
When I found that I was beginning to suffer 
In the same way, 1 ceased doing needlo-work or 
reading more than was absolutely necessary, 
hoping that rest might restore them to strength, 
but they grow gradually worse. Then I resolved 
to go to New York and consult an eminont ocu¬ 
list. I confess I trembled at making the ap¬ 
pointment with him, so greatly I dreaded hoar- 
lag hts opinion. I almost preferred remaining 
In Ignorance of the real state of the case, that I 
might cling to the precious boon or hope which 
Ignorance enabled me to hold. Howevor the 
day came, and my eyes were carerully and pa¬ 
tiently examined by the well-known oculist, 
® heart sank witbln in© when he 
paused an instant to ask me whether either of 
my parents had been affected in their eyesight; 
and when I said that my father was blind all 
the latter part of his life, I saw a look of pity 
steal into hla countenance as he asked my age 
I begged him to hide nothing from me. I said 
It would be oruelty to give me hope If there 
were none—that I would rather know the worst 
If he were sure of the worst. He was very kind 
and said he was afraid mine was a very serious 
case; but be did not tell me anything decided 
that day. He bade me to come again on tho 
following Tuesday at an hour he named. Wheu 
J went 1 found another gentleman with him. 
They examined my eyes together, and spoke 
alone afterwards. Then Ur. B-— came and 
told ipe that they both coincided in the opinion 
