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I 338 
CORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
MAY 23 
maiden fair. Then, If you lore this man whom 
you believe loves you, why not state plainly to 
him how the matter stands ? Only a few words 
on which, perhaps, the happiness of both your 
lives depends. You having the greater wealth, 
have also the greater right to speak, because 
you have the most to give. If this one-slded- 
ness is ever to be done away with, it will be 
only because a few women In the beginning 
were brave enough to dare and do. 
Bernice Gray certainly was not one of the 
women who dared, for Nom. Marvin went 
away into the great city, with no word of cheer 
from the lips of the woman who loved him. 
Suitors for the hand of Bkrnicb Gray there 
were by the score. Indeed, she seemed a sort 
of target for everyone who chanced to obtain a 
knowledge of liar wealth. If this woman had 
possessed an undue amount of weakness, she 
would easily have fallen into tome one of the 
many snares that had been laid for her. Hav¬ 
ing for a long time previous to her grandfath¬ 
er’s death had to attend to certain portions of 
his business, she bad learned to place but little 
value on man's promises, seeing them so often 
broken. Then, too, r he had a strong faith that 
the man she loved would come to her sooner 
or later—a certain belief In " A Divinity that 
shapes our ends, rough-hew them as we will." 
So, in the days after Noll Marvin had gone 
out Into the world, she went about her every¬ 
day work, cheerfully doing all that she could 
In regard to t he management of her money and 
estate with this one thought, that It was for 
him in that “ n«»mi? day" yet to come, when lie 
should walk the same path in life with her. 
How tills was ever to be brought about she bad 
not the remotest Idea, only a blind faith that 
It must bo. 
Bernice had many troubles to contend with. 
Both of her aunts came down upon Imr one 
day, like two wolves upon <>ue poor, defense¬ 
less lamb, and accused her of having forged the 
will which made her the heiress of so large a 
portion of their wealth. She bore all their 
taunts and threats to have the matter brought 
Into the courts, until forbearance ceased to be 
a virtue and then, in a calm and decided tone, 
ordered them to leave her house at once and 
forever. Which they did. The flashing eyes of 
Bernice Gray convinced them that she was 
not a woman who would stand all the-brow- 
boattng they might choose to heap upon her. 
She offered the farm for sale. There was no 
need that she should burden herself with Its 
care. Independent of It, her grandfather had 
left her enough to enable her to live in the 
greatest luxury, if .ho chose. She had no vain 
ambition in this direction, however; she only 
longed for a quiet home with freedom from 
care, and this she felt could not be while she 
remained upon the old farm. At last she found 
a purchaser: and the day that she signed the 
deed which transferred it to him relieved her 
of a care and, as she said, made her the hap¬ 
piest womau in the world. 
CHARTER 
Noli. Marvin in Ills city life had been in a 
great, degree successful—tliatis. he bad readily 
found a good situation, at a fair salary, so that 
he was able to live without that close study of 
economy that makes so many lives almost un¬ 
endurable. He hail time, too, after hla duties 
of the day were ended, to cultivate the higher 
tastes of his nature. He visited art galleries, 
attended lectures and readings, and all enter¬ 
tainments t hat promised to be of a refined or¬ 
der. Therefore, when two years of his'life bad 
passed from the time of tils leaving his village 
home, there was but little trace of the country 
youth left in him. This seemed to him to be 
one of the golden times of bis life, of v> liich he 
hoped In the future there might be many. One 
more than all the rest, when the full measure 
of a man's happiness should be meted out to 
him, loomed up ever and anon, like some holy 
vision, before his eyes. It a as the hour when 
a woman royal In goodness should place her 
hand in Ills, and laying her head upon bis bo¬ 
som, should promise to walk through the com¬ 
ing years, be they fraught with joy or woe, the 
path that lie should choose for her. And each 
time that this vision came to him, the fair, 
sweet face of Bernice Gray was the woman's 
face he saw, until he learned to believe that 
she w as his fate. 
And all this time no word or sign had passed 
between them. She, far away, had lived as if 
she were his, trusting to .1 Power that, would 
bring them together when each had worked 
out the time of probation allotted to them. 
She was a stern believer in the doctrine that all 
things arc marked out from the beginning and 
that from that which Is to come (hero is not 
the faintest possible chance of escape. 
It, was shipping day In New York. At the 
wharves all was hurry and confusion. Huge 
drays and wagons stood in long lines waiting 
for their chance to unload. It was a place full 
of danger. Mon anxious to get. their goods 
shipped thut day heeded not whom t hey .jostled 
and turned aside, su lung as their wants were 
attended to. Noll Marvin was down to the 
wharf this day attending to the shipping of 
some goods on one of the Savannah steamers. 
You could see him hero and there aiming the 
men as he gave his orders. Suddenly there 
was a great crash, a scream from the men of 
“Oh! lie's killed!—he’s killed!" And then 
they proceeded to remove a heavy box or crate 
from off the inanimate being who lay bruised 
and stunned upon the dock. He was not dead. 
Thank Goo for that! Else the woman whose 
faith was so strong that some day this man 
whom she loved would come to her would have 
been utterly crushed. 
They took him up gently and tenderly, as 
though he were a little child. Great, strong 
men, whoso eyes had not known tears for 
sears, wept now, for he had been a great favor¬ 
ite among them. Ho was taken to the hospi¬ 
tal, where It w'as found that, the injuries he bad 
received would make him a cripple for life. 
During the svoeks that followed In which 
Noll Marvin lay upon his bed of pain In the 
hospital ward, there Moated through his mind, 
like visions In a dream, the possible fate that 
the future held In store for him. Fortune had 
not dealt out to him of [her plenitude of gifts 
more than an ordinary share. His parents 
were and always bad been poor. Their poverty 
was not of that vulgar kind, however, which is 
almost degradation, but such as comes to thou¬ 
sands of men and women with large families of 
children, who toll on from week’s end to week’s 
end, one year after another, and fl nd that, after 
they have clothed rnd fed their dear ones, the 
amount left, on hand will not afford even the 
slightest luxury or extra expense. 
Not.t, Marvin knew how those who were 
near and close to him were situated, and he 
felt with a bitterness In his soul how great a 
misfortune had come to him. In the end he 
felt that he must become dependent upon these 
loved ones, whom he had hoped to relieve 
from their burthens rather than add to them. 
The money lie had saved would last hut a short 
time, and of course, >mw that he could uever 
more be of use to the firm In whose employ he 
had been, he would by them he cast forth like 
some old horse, who in serving faithfully had 
lived out. Its day and become of no further use 
—to die, or worse. A sad picture I grant you. 
But how many of us have seen this done, in 
nine cases out of ten, the clerk who Is unfortu¬ 
nate enough to become disabled for life while 
in the employ of men for whom he has actually 
coined dollars upon dollars, is turned away 
and his very existence almost forgotten. 
The day came when NOLL Marvin was car¬ 
ried to his home, knowing in its fulness the 
value that had been set on him by the men to 
whom be had devoted all His business energy. 
Thank GOD, that, behind the darkest cloud, 
there is always a light, though hidden—that If 
we will only wait we shall catch, through some 
stray rift, a glimmer, though ever so faint. 
Later, when the cloud shall have rolled away, 
its brightness may almost blind us,—we who 
have so little faith. 
Two weeks passed bv in the home of the 
Marvins. The villagers had called to condole 
and sympathize with them, thereby adding un¬ 
told agony to the cup that was already flllr.d to 
oversowing ; and then, when it had become a 
settled fact that henceforth Noll Marvin 
would be a cripple, the excitement subsided 
and peace reigned once metre around their 
humble habitation. 
But one day there came a gentle, timid knock 
at the door, and when it was opened, there 
stood t he fairest and loveliest vision of w oman¬ 
hood upon the threshold, that ever dazed the 
eyes of mortal man. and the sweetest of voices 
said, "Oh ! dear Mrs. Marvin, may’nt I come 
in and see Noll, the poor, dear fellow. I’ve 
been wild to see him ever since I heard of his 
arrival; but knowing how many people called 
each day, L thought I’d wait until he was 
rested, and felt strong enough to have a real 
good talk. You know he and 1 were splendid 
friends In onr school-day life.” 
And when that afternoon’s sun went down, 
they two, Bernice Gray and Noll Marvin 
were still together, talking of their school 
days'? I do Dot know, but the days were few 
from that time that did not find herat his home. 
And when the winter came and he had grown 
stronger—strong enough in fact to walk with 
the aid of crutches—the sleigh which had once 
made Btich a stir upon Its arrival In front of the 
village store, again stopped iu the same place. 
This time Noll Marvin occupied a part, of It. 
The same fair-haired creature that quieted the 
conversation then quieted it now. A few 
purchases and then she went, and was hastily 
driven away. 
The occupants of the store were pretty much 
the same as on that other day, when Noll 
MARV tN had so strongly asserted the right of 
women to enter a store without becoming the 
subject of conversation of every fool who may 
feel inclined to do so. The lesson of that day 
had not entirely been forgotten; still there 
was just the slightest excuse for the conversa¬ 
tion which took place after Bernice had gone 
out this time. 
“ Why, bless ye, did’nt ye know It'? That ere 
Congregational married ’em more'n a fortnight 
ago. I heerd on't the fust, thing next day.” 
“Then It’s a wonder that anybody should 
remain in ignorance after you had once found 
It out,” said a sarcastic fellow who stood near 
the store: " your’e such a capital news carrier." 
“Yes, hut you forget that the heavy snows of 
the last two weeks have kept Uncle Joe at 
home,— been too much for liis rheumatism.’’ 
"And all that money lias gone Into NOLL 
Marvin's hands at last. Well, I always did 
believe, ever since that day when he stood up 
for that, gal against Joe Fellows— you all 
remember—that he would some day win her 
fur his wife. I tell you such things reach the 
ears of those who are Interested sooner than 
one would think.” 
“Well, Noll is a good fellow, and since bis 
terrible misfortune has placed him in such a 
helpless condition, I am heartily glad that such 
good luck has befallen him, as to in part com¬ 
pensate him for the bad. But it Is an awful 
streak ol' luck, such a pile of money, and—’ 
“And," interrupted some one, “theprettiest 
and best girl In the whole village to gladden 
his days, and make life endurable.” 
TEA-TABLE TALKS. 
Tom—Then they ought to live on A flat. 
Pater—They would B sharp enough for you 
even then. 
Tilly—Speaking of trades, I think carpenters 
do a plane business; mostly on the square. 
Formerly they saw a good deal, but did not 
always augur well; hoarded frequently, knew 
somet.liing about drills, were great boros, and 
preferred a clean shave. Of late they are more 
given to close reasoning.since they uso striking 
arguments, and hit the nail on the head. 
Tom—Pretty good for Tilly I Hut f think 
grocers are the most Independent men- they 
wouldn't, give a fig for your opinions; (heir 
paths are always flowery; their knowledge of 
current values enables them to raisin tbeir 
prices, and they know that the higher they put 
their goods up the fewer of them will go down. 
Besides, they are sure to egg-sell. 
Pater—For my part, I must say a word for 
butchers. They always try to make both ends 
meat; and though If anything should turnip, 
they don’t carrot, all, hut would serve you 
fowlly; still their alms are not all sell-flsh. 
Mater—Don’t forget the bakers; suhely they 
are the best bread men of all. 
REJECTED SUITORS. 
A woman never quite forgets the man who 
has once loved her; she may not have loved 
him; 6he may, indeed, have given him the 
no instead at the yes he hoped for; but the 
remembrance that tie desired a yes always 
softens her thought* uf him, and would make 
him, were he eo minded, a friend forever. 
There may be girls who make a Jest of discarded 
suitors; but th*y are generally very young, and 
the wooing has been something that, did not 
betoken much depth of tenderness. There are 
mercenary offers, ton, that only awaken scorn 
and hate In the woman wooed for money and 
not for herself; but really to have touched a 
man’s heart Is something not to be forgotten 
while she Uvea. Always she remembers how 
his eyes looked iuto hers; how, perhaps, ho 
touched Imr hand with his, and how her hcan 
ached when he turned away without that 
which 6he could not give him. She loves some 
one else. Some other man has all the truth of 
her soul—always has, and always will have—but 
she cannot forget the one who turned from her 
and went his way and came no more. She is 
glad when she hears of his success, grieved 
when she knows that he has suffered; and 
when, some day, she hears that he is married— 
she who haa herself been married long years, 
perhaps; she who, at all events, would never 
have married him—Is she glad then? I do not 
know. A woman's heart is a very strange 
thing. I do not believe she knows herself. 
Glad? Ob, yes; and Is she pretty nice? And 
then she says to herself that “he has quite for¬ 
gotten," and “that, of oourse, is beet," and 
cries a little. 
LOVE. 
The love that survives the tomb is the noblest 
attribute of the soul. If it has woes, it has 
likewise Its delights; and when the overwhelm¬ 
ing burst of grief Is lulled Into the gentle tear 
of recollection, then the sudden anguish and 
convulsive agony over the present ruins of all 
we most loved are softeued away into pensive 
meditation of all that It was in the days of its 
loveliness. Who would loot such a sorrow 
from the heart? Though it may sometimes 
throw a passing cloud over the bright hour of 
gaiety, or spread a deeper sadness over the 
hours of gloom, yet who would exchange It for 
the song of pleasure or the burst of revelry. 
No; there is a voice from the tomb sweeter 
than song; there is a remembrance of the dead 
to which we turn eveu from the charm of the 
living. 
Providence has decreed that those common 
acquisitions—money, gems, plate, noble man¬ 
sions and dominion—should he sometimes be¬ 
stowed on the indolent and unworthy; hut 
those things which constitute our true riches, 
and which are properly our own, mii3t be pro¬ 
cured by our own labor. 
$abkth Reading. 
HOW TO LIVE. 
He llvcth long who llveth well! 
All other life Is short and vain. 
He llveth longest who can tell 
Of living most for heavenly gain. 
Pater-'Y ell, Tom, what news to-night? 
Turn—Nothing much, only shoemakers are 
all making fortunes. Boots are the only things 
soled now-n-days. 
Pater—l wish they could heel a corn a*, well 
as toe a boot. 
Mater A lost Is no use ! the modern Bunion 
only hinders the pilgrim’s progress. 
Tom—This Is too much. Let me give you a 
conundrum“ Why is a dentist opposed to the 
saying, ‘Too thin.’ ” 
Tilly—Because he says “Tooth out." 
Pater—Most of the chemists I have known 
read Homer, they speak so often of oxfde—you 
know. 
Mater—But plumbers are very fond of singing, 
they are always Saying to housekeepers :—“ Pipe 
He llveth long who llveth well! 
All else Is being flung away; 
He llveth longest who can tell 
Of true things truly done each day. 
Waste not (by being; back to Him 
Who freely gave It. freely give; 
Else is that, being but a dream— 
’Tis but to be, and not to live. 
Be wise and use thy wisdom well; 
Who wisely speaks must live it too. 
He is the wisest who can tell 
How flrst he lived, then spoke the true. 
Be what thou seemeet; live thy creed; 
Hold up to earth the torch divine; 
Be what thou prayest to be made • 
Let the great Master’s steps be thine. 
Fill up each hour with what will last; 
Buy up the moments as they go; 
The life above when this Is post. 
Is the ripe fruit ol life below. 
Sow truth. If thou the truth wouldst reap; 
Who sows the false shall reap Ibu vain; 
Erect and sound thy conscience keep; 
From hollow words and deeds refrain. 
Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure ; 
Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright; 
Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor. 
And And the harvest home of light. 
GOOD MEN’S OFFSPRING. 
The great and good do not always produce 
their kind. They do sometimes, however, 
though the worthy sou generally finds his wor¬ 
thy sire's matured fame a hindrance rather 
than a help-the glory of the morning uever 
equaling the glory of the noon-day. Judson 
lives In Dr. iiague'a successor at OraNge, N. J., 
and the sainted Boardman in ltov. George Dana 
Boardtnan, D. D., of Philadelphia. So Marsh- 
man, one of the ablest of Carey's coadjutors, is 
perpetuated In his moo, now between seventy 
and eighty years old. Tim latter during his 
residence In India though not a wealthy man 
—gave to mission work, in a way so quiet and 
unostentatious as scarcely |<> attract the atten¬ 
tion even of his friends, a hundred and fifty 
thousand dollars; and to a missionary’ college, 
the salary—four or five thousand dollars a year 
—which he drew as Examiner to a University 
in Calcutta. He still contributes to the col¬ 
umns of the Friend of India from London, and 
writes, It is said, with as much vigor as a young 
man. It Is a matter of devout joy when in such 
cases the word Is fulfilled, “In place of the 
fathers shall be the children.” 
TRUST IN OUR FATHER. 
“Johnny, don’t you think you have got as 
much as you can carry?" said Frank to bis 
brother, who was standing with open arms, re¬ 
ceiving the bundles his father plaoed upon 
them. “You’ve got more than you can carry, 
“Never mind," said Johnny, In a sweet, 
happy voice, “ my father knows how much I 
can carry." 
How long it takes many of us to learn the les¬ 
son little Johnny had by heart! “ Father knows 
how much I can carry." No grumbling, no dis¬ 
content, but a svreet trust in our Father's love 
and care that we will not be overburdened. 
Our heavenly Father never lays a burden upon 
us that we cannot bear. So we will trust Him, 
as little Johnny did his father. 
TH0UGHT8 AND SUGGESTIONS. 
If any one speak ill of thee, flee home to thy 
own conscience, and examine thy heart; If 
thou he guilty, it Is a just correction ; if not 
guilty, it is a fair iastruction ; make use of 
both; so shalt thou distil honey out of gall, 
and out of an open enemy create a secret 
friend. 
The soul that does good to others, grows in 
goodness. He that is a medium of blessiDg to 
others is himself blessed thereby. Hence sel¬ 
fishness is folly as well as sin ; for while It pre¬ 
vents our doing good to others, in the same de¬ 
gree It prevents our doing good to ourBelf. 
They that deny a God destroy man’s nobil¬ 
ity, for certainly man Is kin to the beast by his 
body ; and if he is not kin to God by his spirit, 
he is a base and Ignoble creature. 
The bights of earthly promotion lift us no 
whit nearer heaven. It Is easier to step there 
from the lowly vale of humiliation and sorrow. 
To all men, and at all times, the best friend 
Is virtue; and the best companions are high 
endeavors and honorable sentiments. 
Blessed be the hand that prepares a pleasure 
for a child, for there Is no saying when and 
where it may bloom forth. 
There is a transcendent power in example. 
We reform others unconsciously when we walk 
uprightly. 
Some mourn more the shame which sin 
brings, than the sin which brings the shame. 
qJ* 
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