SONG, 
brlsk-looking, like other servants. O, dear ! 
no ; staid, old-fashioned persons most of them, 
with white hair, glasses and unwrinkled faces. 
It is useless to try and make them communica¬ 
tive when doing errands for their employers at 
the grocer’s and butcher's. The busy bodies of 
the street had long given this up when I be¬ 
came acquainted with the place. They have 
formed a secret society of their own, talk vol¬ 
ubly to each other, and to every one else are 
dumb, excepting the most ordinary communi- 
pations. They are treated with a degree of 
respect at the stores where they deal that has 
made them the envy of all other domestics for 
blocks around, who take care to show that they 
think themselves as good as “ Them good-for- 
nothing D’Aroy’s” by a toss of the head, ac¬ 
companied by a corresponding movement of the 
nose, whenever they chance to meet, totally 
lost on the objects of their contempt. 
Now 1 am not, I think, more Inquisitive than 
others, but knowing just this much, with no 
prospect of finding out more, 1 was always 
impelled to look curiously at those houses 
whenever 1 passed—to wonder what the insides 
were llko-to Imagine all sorts of mysteries 
about Uie occupants, and to almost wish that 
one might catch Are, so that some chance might 
be given me to satisfy my curiosity. 
Happening to be passing ono evening after 
dark, I bad Just reached the one occupied by 
Old MARSTON himself, when the frontdoor was 
thrown open, aud with a cry of “Thieve# I” 
that almost equaled the noise made by a large 
rat, one of the old servants before-meutioned 
made her appearance aud tottered toward me. 
I immediately opened the gate and hastened 
up tho few yards of walk that separated us, 
well known to her by sight and reputation. 
“ We can safely tiust this gentleman, Janet, 
and I think the best plan will be to leave the 
whole nlTair in bis hands. But-0 ! dear,” she 
continued, “ the door is shut and it will bo im¬ 
possible to go inside." This seemed to be a 
difficulty indeed; but Janet, more practical 
than either of U3, tried the door and finding tho 
wind had not been strong enough to latch it, 
pushed It open as If sbo expected to find a bur¬ 
glar ready posted in the hall. Seeing that this 
difficulty was removed, my fair companion—for 
I could see, even by that dim light, that she 
was exceedingly beautiful—led the way inside 
before T could prevent her, aud in answer to 
my inquiries said, “ Janet and I were up stairs 
waiting for papa.” 
“And a pretty tlmo he’ll make when he 
comes," said Janet. 
“ When I heard a noise in the room above, I 
told her to see what It was and she left mo for 
that purpose. The next minute she ran scream¬ 
ing down stairs and crying ‘Thieves!’ Of course 
nands »n horror, and the rest of us 
bvaTtiTc » laughter,—for there, surrounded 
by all the household utensils knocked down 
and broken In their mad fright, were a pair of 
as large tom cats as 1 ever had tho good fortune 
to see—their tails tiod together— 
Entangled In no faint embrace. 
With claws deep hurled i 
Weil, after tho first, burst 
subsided, and I had with r... 
needed in parting the belligerent 
them out of doors, wo helped Janet 
domain in order, for the poor , • 
1‘tt.Ie but grtevo over the wreck. Miss A 
and myself ascended to the 
quired who could possibly 
trick upon them. 
“ Vou have not r ~ 
answered. •• I have a broth 
caused ail this trouble. I 
out to spend the 
thought I hoard 
BY I. W. SANBORN. 
O thanks for the bountiful harvest, 
And thanks for the joy that it brings ; 
The harvest of hay from the meadows, 
Where the bobolink cheerily sings. 
O thanks for the corn, bright and golden, 
And thanks for the wheat, nnd the grain- 
For the bountiful, bountiful harvests. 
That add to the harvester’s gain. 
We rejoice in the fruits of the season. 
For the apple, the peach and the pear; 
And tho hosts of wild plums and berries 
That grow without, culture or care. 
We’ve a love for the ripe, rich pumpkin. 
And ’tia a love that seldom dies ; 
But the love :t< many limes stronger 
For our mother’s good pumpkin pies. 
Wc delight in large Holds of cabbage, 
(We’ve an Irishman's “ tooth” just now,) 
And what wo don't want for the table 
Will be food for the nag nnd the cow. 
We've a relish for the sweet potato. 
As well as for the Irish kind: 
And to eating of the ” Grant” tomato 
Our habits and tastes are inclined. 
in each other’s fneo.” 
—h of merriment had 
no small trouble suc- 
— — ta and turning 
—put her 
poor soul con id do 
lice 
parlor, when I i n _ 
havo played such a 
seen till the family yet,” she 
—her w ho must have 
supposed ho had gone 
evening with pup« ” ri 
a giggle In the direction of th« 
wn.dow, but said nothing.] ” , shall 
speak to papa when he returns and have w 
whipped." [Suppressed sigh Trom behind S 
window curtain.] 1 bind the 
It Is useless for me to deny that 1 had r,n 
1,1 witfi niy entertainer at first -mi,i 1 i 
seeing here «n opportunity to conol fifto 
member of tho household -by no , ne 
significant one either, lot me tell V nn t ° n " 
brothers can be « great bother^'."T®* 11 
pleaded his owe so well that I received™” -1 
ise that nothing should bo said to „ T?' 
subject, and Immediately received thn ° tho 
pa,d 1,1 1 -H?bya 
utive specimen of urchin, that i 7, 
In fact, Witt himself, growing tired ,'r ' 
fliiemcnt, and seeing that there was lfk f" 
be no more run that evening cm,,, r l'" y to 
concealment, and after receiving ,! ° f his 
pretty little slaps that made m„ e ,vy ^ 
to pacify Janet. 0 envy him, went 
Of Oourso J remained until 
came home, made a suitable apolo^f* 8 ™* 
presence, told as much or thestorv a ft h ° r m J 
proper, and had the good fortunet^nil ^* 
old gentleman-* thing that *o young Tn® 
had done before, at least so Ai,£Tfu ° W 
fow weeks afterwards. t ^ me a 
I was asked to call again a ,„i 
si.ro was not slow to aval! myself oni,!"** b ° 
tunity of improving an acqualr.tLl 7‘’° r ' 
under such interesting circum stances xT* 
says I am " Amur's" beau and rJ Wim* 
ed If he might coma to t,lm’wedding° 0 ^ 88 k- 
loss t,. say that permission w„, rcad v?- 06 ' 1 ' 
and Olio morning not long T g,ven * 
fon,, ... 
m~g\ WnusnaUiatoof, j 
’Tis a fact—anil none will deny it— 
That much of our living is bread; 
Were it not for the habit of oating, 
The life that now Is would bo dead. 
O thanks for tbe bountiful harvest! 
And thanks for the joy that it brings! 
We rejoice in the gifts of Nature, 
W hence much of our happiness springs, 
D’AROY’S COURT 
Ihe noise grew louder. Pots, pans and ket¬ 
tles seemod to have sot up a private bedlam of 
their own, and to bo Indulging in a frolic, while 
tho occasional crash of crockery lent variety to 
the sound. 
I expressed my determination to Investigate, 
but tills my companions would not allow, say¬ 
ing that they wero afraid to bo left alone. Final¬ 
ly the matter was compromised by my consent¬ 
ing to take them with me, and arming herself 
with a poker, while Janet caught up a broom, 
Miss Aucb signified that alio was ready. Tail¬ 
ing the lead, I slowly and caul doubly descended 
the stairs which led directly to the kitchen. 
Here a sight, mot our eyes that caused Janet 
by GEO. GRArilY, 
On a side street, situated between two of our 
most fashionable avenues, there stands a row 
of small houses kno.vn to tbe initiated as 
D’Arcy’s Court. They wero built long before 
the city had grown to one-haif its present size 
and their bright bricks nnd curious gabies pre¬ 
sent u strange contrast to tho big brown stono 
fronta that push themselves grimly forward, 
frowning down upon their more humble neigh¬ 
bors. 
Nice, cosy, rotired houses they 
are, most ly rented to clerks who F_ -~- 
have some pretensions to gen- 
tiilty. Hero on asunnuer’safter- izr- - :. T -= 
noon may bo seen their wives 
and children sitting 00 the 
stoops, enjoying what air hap¬ 
pens to find its way to them, or 
watching their more aristocratic 
neighbors, who totally ignoro |gj gs= ?Lg S |= 
them ns they roll away in pba>- - = - 
tons or clarences for a ride in : 
Central Park. Very grand are g- : • 
thvso turn-outs, and the people , A 
who own them have more than _N _z "r. 
once contemplated buying “ that 
piece of property, touring down 
those abominable brick tilings, Jgfcigrs^ 
and converting it into a play- 
ground for tbeir children. Hut 
tlio owner, who lives in No. i, 
the brightest, neatest, and most 
impudent little house of the row 
bids defiance to the “ shoddys,” 
atnl scandalizes those good peo¬ 
ple, noarly driving them out of 
their wits by making dark hints 
about (lie profits to be derived 
from tenement houses, “and he 
beiieves one would pay in that 
street.” Alt offers are useless; --— 
he has plenty of money and will 
not sell. Those who know him 
best say that “Old Mauston is 
only waiting for a better offer; 
that be knows property must 
advance in value in that locality, 
and he will lose nothing by bold- 
ing it a year or two.” 
Perhaps some idea that ho 
should be cast out, as it were, 
from all old associations and 
forced to die among "strangers, ^ 
makes him hesitate to move, for £«gg 
the tenants are born, live and ™ nteu 
die In these dwellings. The first ' 
of May finds many trucks going <•' 
up aud down past their doors, j 
but none ever stop at “ D’Ar- 
CY’S." It is a world by Itself. All 
that takes place at No. 1 i s, by \ 
some mysterious moans, imme- 
diately known at No. 5, but there _ 
stops and goes no further. The - ' 
very sparrows are silent and 
mysterious and seldom leave f J'j 
their own domain, except to K A& 
drive away’ Borne Intruder; in- 
deed it is not necessary, for the ^ 
most convenient little houses , 
that a sparrow could desire are 
put in odd nooks and corners or 
nailed to the branches of the f 
trees, of which there is ore in O T~r_- 
each courtyard, while food is al- I 
ways provided in abundance. - .. . 
The servants are not young and 
■n K hUhBANO'S EXPERIENCE. 
° NB (h 'y F;l f'oy Herbert, who 
1 . WM 11 ; !,eVf - r housekeeper said 
to me, “ Did you ever buy y 0 ,r 
meat at ono of the large Varif 
“ No, t never did.” 
* I al ways buy them at the Far- 
rftigdon Market. Tho train 
brings me towii bin five minutes' 
walk of the place. I take with 
mo a largo straw hag i„ which 1() 
carry my meat; when 1 have 
made my purchases, | hire a boy 
at the small charge of u penny, 
to carry my load to the station 
and on leaving the train, a rail¬ 
way porter or a small boy is gen¬ 
erally to bo found who will as¬ 
sist mo In conveying my provis¬ 
ions to my residence. Go with 
me, and doubtless you w ill t fleet 
a material auving." 
When Jack was told of our 
plan, he said he could do better 
than that. Jf t . could go to the 
market for mo and bring up what 
required. This was charming, 
i quite longed for the time to 
come when I could seven little 
rn mey In the purchase of a joint 
of meat. 
“Let us be careful about, ore 
thing, dear Annie," said Jack, 
and that is, not to buy more 
than we positively need ; I feel 
sure that is the great mistake 
with young housekeepers. They 
buy too much of a thing, and so 
any saving that they make in 
buying cheaply is swallowed in 
the unnecessary outlay." 
I was obliged to assent to this, 
though my spirit was beginning 
to rebel agaiost the constant al¬ 
lusions to my one unlucky esca¬ 
pade. 
Ihe next evening a cab drove 
up to our door rather before 1 bo 
usual hour for Jack’s return. 
Cabs were so unusual with us, 
frugal people that we were, that 
a melancholy vision immediate¬ 
ly crossed my mind of my hus¬ 
band run over by a brewer's van 
and brought home, maimed and 
injured for life. This fear was 
soon dissipated by the appear * 
anco of Jack, triumphantly bear- ' 
