MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
228 
■ ' -.... . - • a- —— 
her. He stooped, and gathered her in his am* 
and kissed her silently, on Up and cheek and 
brow. 
There was no sleep for Noha that night. It 
seemed as if his flry kisses burned her face, 
and she could not sleep for remembering how 
sweet they were. 
For a week after that she did not boo 
Graver. One day some cards were laid upon 
her table, and looking at them she turned pale 
as if death had touched her, and caught her 
breath In a strange, gasping way. For there 
before her were the wedding cards of Max 
Graver and a woman she had often met. How 
she passed the remainder of that day she knew 
not. All tho world soomed a great blank. She 
had lost the man she loved. Sbo felt only that. 
In losing him she hud lost everything. Never 
a thought of how impossible it would have 
been for thorn to be anything to each other, 
honorably and truthfully, oame to her. She 
loved him. 8ho did notcarclf her love was dis¬ 
honorable. It was love, and therefore stronger 
than herself. 
Do not judge her too harshly. That she was 
wrong I know. But she had a heart, like you 
and me, and sometimes, perhaps, our hearts 
may get the mastery of us. Then wo shall be 
better able to Judge her. 
The day wore away and night came. She 
wandered through the splendid rooms like a 
ghost, restless and unquiet,. Best and quiet 
would never come to her again In life. By and 
by she put on a long gray cloak and went out. 
Whore she was going she did not know. She 
did not care. Up and down the half-deserted 
streets she walked, hearing nothing, seeing 
nothing. Only thinking, “I loved him so! I 
loved him so I 
“Anybodies in the Morgue, did you say? 
Yes, sir ; one—a woman they pulled out of the 
river this morning. Would you like to look at 
it? If you would, come this way." 
Max Gray le followed the man into the room 
where the body lay. Ho lifted tiro coarse, black 
cloth from t he, dead face. 
“My Go»I— Noha!" be cried, half doubting 
that he saw aright. 
It was Nora Gresham that lay there in the 
last rest which a mortal knows. He covered 
up the marble face with hands that shook 
strangely, and went out and leit her there 
alone. But for days the strange and awful 
presence of death seemed near him, and he 
had only to close his eyes to see the cold, white 
face of Nora Gresham, as ho saw it last in the 
shadowy dead-room of the Morgue. 
-♦♦♦- 
WHAT OAME OF MAKING PIOKLES. 
“ Weee, Love, my poor child,” said a digni¬ 
fied old gentleman, “I have looked your mat¬ 
ters all over, and I must say 1 see nothing but 
starvation for you and your family.” 
“ Well, father," replied a bright little woman 
of twenty-live years, in a trembling voice, “ I've 
not the least idea of starving, nor of letting my 
family starve—not if God spareB my health.” 
“ You were always a bravo child, Love, but 
this Is a terrible crime. It would bo cruel in 
any one to taunt you now, but remember that I 
told you and George that it wa* very Imprudont 
for a man to marry till he had something ahead 
for mi emergency.” 
“ I remember, father, that you thought I 
should be wiser to marry a man with a house 
and store, for whom I did not care, than to 
marry George, with £”,000 a year. But If I had 
the choice to rnsko ovor again, to-day, 1 should 
do just as I did then. I wouldn't change places 
with any woman on earth—oven now,” 
“You are a faithful wife and a brave little 
woman, Love, bat-” 
“Butwhat, father?" 
“You can't live on in this way, child.” 
“ But I will live, father, and live well, too, and 
take care of George and the babies.” 
“ now?” Ay. that was t.be word that bad 
boon ringing in tbo heart of this brave little 
woman ever since the day that her husband 
failed at his desk and was brought home appar¬ 
ently dying. She know that she could rear the 
pillars of her domestic struolure herself, but 
how? 
“Well, Love. I will do what loan for you,” 
said the old gentleman, “and—and—if It, were 
only for you and the babies, I should say at 
once, come home, and be ns welcome there as 
you were four years ago; but you know the 
house Is so small, we haven’t room for four in 
it.” 
Love smiled a sad smile and then said—per¬ 
haps a little provoklngly—“four of us would 
occupy no more chambers than three; the ba¬ 
bies are too little to be awav from ns at night. 
But ir your house were twice as large, father, I 
oonld not take my husband’s own little home 
away from him, now that he is sick. I shall 
have to decide soon and will lot you know my 
plans." 
The respectable old gentleman rose up, and 
with his handkerchief polishing his already 
shining beaver, kissed Love, patted the heads 
of tbo babies and turned to go, saying, Keep 
up a good heart, child, and remember that the 
ravens fed Elijah.” 
“ Well. I don’t want t hem to feed mo l I pre¬ 
fer to feed myself,”repiled the spunky little 
woman, who felt that it was rather hard In her 
father to discourage her and then cshoithor 
to “ keep a good heart,” 
She loved the old man, although he was stiff 
and narrow tn tils views, and nover forgot any 
liglit>offered his Judgment. She followed him 
• i the door and said, "Good-bye, father; give 
suv love to mother,” although the real mother, 
who vculd have found room enough In her 
heart „ borne for them all, hod been for years 
in tbo grave. 
It wa* twWI^h Land as the old gentleman was 
going down the alt p, a voung man came up. 
“Ah, good evening, good evening,” said the 
stout, good-natured hotel keeper to both, and 
then added to Love, “ Here I am on the old 
borrowing business. My wife says she can't 
please the lawyers in court time since you and 
•die changed pickles and honey. Old Squire 
Watts called out the minute he sat down to 
supper, ‘Come, Bruce, borrow some or that 
neighbor’s pickle* for us.’ Them pickles Is a 
standing Joke among them. Why can’t nobody 
' in town make pickles and cat-sup and chow- 
chow like yourn ? My wife's a cook that can't 
be beat on bread and meats and pastry and 
cake, but she ought to ’prentice herself to you 
on some things.” 
Love, who had known Bruce all her life, 
smiled and saidI will give you a jar with 
all my heart, Mr. Bruce, and that won’t half 
pay your wife for the nice things she has sent 
in to poor Georgo. I have my cucumbers all 
ready now to make triy next year’s pickles, and 
I yet have two or three jars left.” 
“Suppose you make a bargain, Mrs. Bart. I'll 
buy two barrels at the best Boston price if you'll 
make them for me, and chow-chow and catsup, 
too." 
Love laughed and the hotel keeper went with 
her to gel. the jar. The old man went down the 
street whispering with aslgh, “The Lord knows 
who's going to feed that family; I can't do it, 
for wife says J can't, and she knows everything, 
most; and Love Is terrible obstinate." 
Well, t he hotel keeper ran back the next mo¬ 
ment with his pickle jar, as happy as some men 
would have been 1o find a nugget of gold that 
size, for he had a rival who kept the old tavern 
and he wanted to keep all the lawyers who 
came there to hold court as his customers. 
Love had a long talk with her husband that 
night. The next day an old school friend who 
had always boon liko a sister, oame to stop with 
the sick man ami to look after the babies, ami 
she went to Boston, ten miles away, in an early 
train, wit h a neat little basket in her hand. If 
any one had been near onough when she put up 
her little basket oh the platform of the depot 
with such spirit, ho might have beard her whis¬ 
per, “See if my family starves while 1 am alive 
and in my health !" 
The day was lovely, and everybody on the 
street and on tbo cars looked cheerful and 
happy. Of course there were sick and lame and 
blind and deaf people, but heaven was keeping 
them out of her sight that day, and bringing 
before her only happy grown folks and merry 
litt le ones. 
The streets looked so clean and the sky seem¬ 
ed so pure that she charged herself with having 
often borne false witness against the beautiful 
as she ran with light, hoart through Washing¬ 
ton, Treiuant and Court streets and BowdoiU 
Square, first to a store and then to a bote'. In 
each place she asked for the proprietor or the 
Bteward and opened her basket, drew out three 
little glass jars of what the hotol keeper at 
home had called “sour things." In one minute 
ahe toid her business and the necessity that 
brought her out on It. Her cheerful face, her 
prompt manner and her well-chosen words 
gained the victory for her. She went back at 
night pledged to supply home-made pickles, 
chow-chow and Catsup for three hotels and 
five large groceries, and she whispered as she 
mounted the steps of her little home, "I’ll 
show father whether or not we are going to 
starve." 
Her cheerful story of success did more for 
her poor, dlshourtened, young husband than a 
peck of old-school pills or four tiny now-school 
ones would have done. The very story of an 
old woman's poke bonnet, which was worn one¬ 
sided in the cars to blind one eye, and of the 
silly airs of a silly bride, and of a boy with two 
guinea pigs buttoned Into his jacket for safe 
transportation, really brightened the hope of 
life In his heart, and after partaking of a nice 
supper prepared by their pretty frlond.he said : 
“ Now, girls, 1 feel as if 1 were going to get about 
again, and this Is the first time I have had any 
hope.” 
Love kept away from her father till she had 
visited wo market gardens In the outskirts of 
the town and engaged a greutsupply of cucum¬ 
bers, onions, peppers and tomatoes, and had 
brought hack the strong girl she had first, felt 
o. Jiged to dismiss, to help tor in her new work- 
But. If you could only have seen the size of 
the old gentleman's eyes and the style of mouth 
he got up and heard his exclamations! 
“ Why, Love, you are crazy 1 What will your 
mother aay? Yon surely forget that, her first 
husband was President of the L-National 
Bank, and I am cashier of it! Who ever heard 
of il bank officer's daughter making pickles for 
taverns and groceries? Why don't you teach 
music ?” 
“ Because 1 don’t know onough.” 
“ You might keep a few very genteel—well, 
not just boarders, but friends who don’t care 
to keep house, but who would pay largely.” 
" Where are they, and where’s the house and 
furniture for them?” 
” O, that is true; but you might—oh ?—or you 
might—eh?" and here his wits failed him; 
there are so few grand tilings that people can 
do in the hope uT cheating others into the be¬ 
lief that they are working for fun rather than 
from necessity. But soon the old gentleman 
added—It was the truest word he ever uttered— 
“I declare, I ntn afraid to go home lest it has 
reached your mother’s ears.” 
The proud woman soon heard of it, and she 
talked angrily about, what Mrs. Adams and Mrs. 
CoL West and purse-proud Miss Allen would 
say, and she almost Inclined to think it would 
be better to give Lovo £500than to be disgraced 
In society, 
“Love wouldn't take any money," replied the 
old rnan, whose attitude during the conversa¬ 
tion was that of one caught in a cutting hail¬ 
storm without any umbrella. 
“Dreadful Independent for anybody that’s 
penniless,” cried the old lady. 
Love and her stout helper went to work at 
once, and very soon the china closet and next 
the neat little dining-room were filled with glass 
jiire through which tiny green cucumbers and 
onions and everything else nice in that lino was 
peeping, or as Love said smiling, “on the fam¬ 
ily.” 
The business went on bravely, and in one 
year Love's husband, who was partially restored 
to health, forsook t he lied und took charge of 
It, and she went back to t he nursery—every 
good mother’s place when Providence does not 
call her out of It, 
This is no pretty fiction to iciich young folks 
that “ where there’s a will there’s a way,” It is 
a true story of a bravo ll'tlc woman,and we can 
tell you the street and the number of a large 
store in a certain city not far away, where her 
enterprising husband has built up a largo busi¬ 
ness and made not a little money. 
Ho says that if Lovo had never learned to 
make pickles, or had been too proud to make 
them for others In his dark time, he should 
have been in his grave five years ago. 
Who thinks less of her for doing it? 
-»»» . . 
A MARKET FOR OLD HATS, 
The following odd story is from the London 
Academy: 
“Tho group of islands known as tbo Nico¬ 
bar-, situated about 150miles -outh of the An¬ 
damans, has been 1ml little explored, though 
the manners and customs of the inhabitant* of 
thesi) islands offers very Interesting peculiari¬ 
ties to the notice of the ethnologist. One of 
the most noticeable of these, mid one which 
seriously affects t he trade of the islands, is the 
passion for old lints, which, w ithout exception, 
pervades tho whole framework of society. No 
one Is exempt from It. Young and old, chief 
and subject alike, endeavor, to outvie eaoh 
utlirr In the singularity of shape no less than In 
the number of the old hats they can acquire 
during their lifetime. On a line morningat the 
Nlcobars It Is no unusual thing to see t he sur¬ 
face of the ocean In the vicinity of the inlands 
dotted over with canoes, in each of which the 
noble savage, without nothing whatever on but 
the conventional slip of cloth and a tall white 
hat with a black band, may lie watched stand¬ 
ing up and catching fish for his daily meal, 
.Second-handed hats arc most In request, new 
hats being looked upon with suspicion and dis¬ 
favor. This curious passion is so well-known 
that traders from Calcutta make annual excur¬ 
sions to the Nlcobars with cargoes of old lmts, 
which they barter for cocoa-nuts, the only pro¬ 
duct, of the islands ; a good tall white hat witli 
a black band fetching from fifty-five to sixty- 
five good cocoa-nuts. Intense excitement pre- 
Viides the island while the trade is going on, and 
fancy prices are often asked and obtained. 
When tho hats or the cocoa-nuts have at length 
come to an end. the trader generally lands a 
cask or two of rum, and the whole population 
in their hats get drunk wltbuut intermission 
until the rum also comes to an end. It is 
curious that in these far-away regions so profit¬ 
able a market should be found for cast-off 
specimens of one of the most disagreeable sym¬ 
bols of civilization. 
“ The same yearning after better things in a 
more advanced stage may be observed in Mada¬ 
gascar, where no official Is content if he cannot 
deck himself out in the tarnished plumage of 
some long defunct admiral, general or ambas¬ 
sador.” 
-- 
A ROMANCE IN HIGH LIFE. 
At the gaming table the Duke of Richmond 
incurred a debt ef honor to Lord Cadogan, 
which he was unable to pay, and It was agreed 
that bis son, a lad of fifteen, who bore the title 
of March, should marry the still younger daugh¬ 
ter of Lord Cadogan. The boy was sent for 
from school arid the girl from the nursery; a 
clergyman was in attendance, and tho children 
were told that they were to be married upon 
the spot. The girl had nothing to say; the nny 
cried out, “ They surely are not going to marry 
me to that dowdy !” But married t hey were. 
A post-chaise was at the door; the bridegroom 
was packed off with his tutor to make the grand 
tour, and the bride was sent back to her mother. 
Lnr<i March remained abiv.ml Tor several years, 
after which lie returned to London, a weli-edu- 
cated, handsome young man, but In no haste 
t o meet his wire, whom he had never seen, ex¬ 
cept upon the occasion of their hasty marriage. 
Bo he tarried In Loud a a to amuse himself. One 
night at the opera ills attention was attracted 
to a beautiful young lady seated In one of the 
boxes. “Who is I hat splendid-looking lady ?" 
he asked of a gentleman beside him. " You 
inu-t be a stranger in London indeed," was the 
reply, “ not to kmov the toast of the town, the 
beautiful Lady'March 1" The Earl went straight 
to the box, announced himself, and claimed his 
bride. The two fell in iovc with each other ou 
the spot, and lived long and happily together: 
and when the Husband died Ids wife’s grief 
was so intense that she died of a broken heart 
within a few months. 
SABBATH SONNET. 
MRS. REMANS’ EAST POEM. 
How many blessed groups this hour are wending 
Through England’s primrose meadow-paths their 
way 
Toward spire and tower,’midst shadowy elms ascend¬ 
ing, 
Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallowed 
day I 
The tails, from old heroic ages gray, 
Pour their fair children forth ; and hamlets low, 
With whose thick orchard blooms the soft winds 
play, 
Send out their Inmates in a happy flow, 
Like a freed vernal stream. 1 may not tread 
With them those pathways—to the feverish bed 
Of sickness hound : yet., O ray Uod ! I bless 
Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath filled 
My chastened heart, and all its throbbings stilted 
To ono deep calm of lowliest thankfulness. 
[Sunday at Home. 
-»♦» - 
GOD IN NATURE. 
Au God’* works proclaim ids power, wisdom 
and goodness. M my learned, interesting and 
instructive volumes have been written on the 
fruitful thernc. Buch reading and contempla¬ 
tion are adapted to awoken gratitude and in¬ 
spire trust. In the sunshine, air, water and 
earth are the elements needful for all the com¬ 
forts, necessities and ornaments of life; but we 
have no power, notwithstanding the luminous 
march of science, to combine the elements and 
produce the needed results. The dements 
contain bread, but our chemistry cannot so 
collect and combine them as to produce a 
single loaf. The elements contain fiox, cotton 
and silk, but we cannot extract from them a 
single yard of cloth. The elements contain all 
the beauties of floral nature, hut wo cannot 
make a single flower. How Interesting Is the 
fact the various forms of vegetable life are 
working together for our good. Tho corn, the 
wheat, the sugar-cane, tho melon vine, the apple 
and tho peach tree, the cotton and the flax 
stalk, arc all extracting from the elements for 
us these useful and pleasant things. If these 
vegetable servants should cease their labors, we 
should soon shiver with cold and starve with 
hunger, although surrounded with illimitable 
supplies—but in such form as to be unavailable. 
The moBt powerful monarch could not make a 
single grain of corn, although the materials 
abound in the elements ail about, us. The most 
skillful confectioner could not, inako one lus¬ 
cious melon, peach or fig. The most skillful 
artist and the most scientific chemist combioed 
could uot make one rose. In view of our help¬ 
lessness and absolute dependence, how com¬ 
forting aud kind are the words of God to our 
father, and representatively through him to us 
all“Behold, I have given you every herb bear¬ 
ing seed, which la upon the face of all the earth ; 
and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a 
tree yielding seed ; to you it shall Ira for meat.” 
—Tac. Ch. Adv. 
- ++-* - 
THE BEST KING. 
At a missionary meeting on the Island of 
Rarntonga, one of the Harvey group in the Pa¬ 
cific ocean, an old m m said“i have lived 
during the reign of four kings; In the first we 
were continually at war, and a fearful season it 
was—watching and hiding in fear took up all 
our thoughts. During the reign of the second 
we were overtaken with a severe famine, and 
all expected to perish; then we ate rats and 
gras.-, aud this wood and that wood. During 
the third we were conquered, and became the 
spoil aud proy of the people in the two other 
parts of the island ; then If a man went to fish 
he rarely ever returned, orif a woman went any 
distance to fetch food she was seldom ever seen 
again. But during the reign of this third king 
we were visited by another King, a great King, 
a good King, a King of love—Jesus the Lord 
from heaven. He has gained the victory, he 
has conquered our hearts; therefore we now 
have peace and plenty In this world, and hope 
soon to dwell with him In heaven.” 
-*-*-*- 
A CHILD’S FAITH. 
A correspondent of the New York Evange¬ 
list relatee the following Instance of child faith: 
Last year, coming from Pittsburg, east, in a 
sleeping-car, myspparrment was next to that 
occupied by a gentleman, his wiie, and their 
little daughter, perhaps four years old. The 
lady was excessively ti .• Id—nor, to put too ine 
a point on it, terribly nervous. The Horse-shoe 
Curve seemed to be her e»pceial terror, and my 
sleep, and I presume that of others, was dis¬ 
turbed by her talking to her husband of tho 
peril. The engineer might be asleep, or tlie 
switch-tender might be asleep, and then tho 
train would Certainly bo plunged down the 
abyss. But it was worth while to be awake, 
when I board Lhe sweet rebuke, not intended, 
but real, of tho little one;—“Ma, God takes 
care of us, and does God sleep ? " Was not this 
the ordaining strength out of the mouth of 
babes? Happy for. the mother if it proved 
strength to her faith ! 
---- 
Dewdkops at night are diamonds at morn: 
so the tears we weep here may be pearls in 
heaven. 
