MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
The stranger moved quickly forward as if 
about to apeak, but checking himself suddenly 
left the room. 
“Why, what Is the matter?” said Frau Mcl- 
j.un. 
“ Perhaps he is offended, we have neglected 
him so long. Father, go and nee what It is." 
“ No," said LknOicb, hastlfy, “ 1 will goand 
shutting the door carefully behind her, she 
stood u moment In the dark passage, with her 
heart heating quickly at a thought which had 
crossed her mind like a lightning flush. “Can 
It be possible ?" she tbuiiaht. “That accounts 
for the familiar expression in his eyes which 
had puzzled me all the evening.” She moved 
to the door of the Blttlng-room aud imagined 
she heard a smothered sob within. “I am cer¬ 
tain of It now,” she said, as hIio entered, and 
going iq. to where Herr lit kkiiaku stood by 
the window with bent head, and evidently 
struggling with strong emotion, she laid her 
hand on his arm and whispered, “ You are wel¬ 
come home. Fit a sz Muller !” 
He turned quickly and grasped tier hand. 
“ You will keep tny secret?” 
" 1 1 you wish It; but why not tell it to-night, I 
that the measure of our happiness may be full ? 
And your parents have ho lunged fur you. Come, I 
let me take you to them and be the means of I 
giving them this coming joy on this holy, happy I 
night. For ten years they have waited for this 
hour and 1 have been Oiling your place, Herr I 
Franz, so 1 must reinstate you.” 
He grasped tightly the littlehaud she extend- I 
ed to hlui. “Tell me, who are you that I must I 
obey ?” 
“ I am Lenore von Waldeck.” 
“The‘Little Countess?’” ho murmured, In I 
astonishment. 
“ Yea, the ‘ Little Countess/ so I command I 
your obedience.” I l 
He followed her without a word—or rather I 1 
she led him—Into the dining-room, where the I < 
Pastor and his wife were patiently awaiting the I 
return of Leonokk. They looked at the pair 1 
in amazement as she led the young man for- I ’ 
ward, saying, “ Licbe Mutter, 1 bring you the 1 
best gift of all, your son Fhanz !” I ' 
Tlie mother did not scream or cry, but she I 1 
turned pale to the very bps and her dark eyes 1 
gleamed strangely, as she extended her arms 1 
saying, in a trembling voice, “My son, my I * 
Franz! and I did not know you ! Forgive me, I ^ 
my son.” I * 
“Forgive me, mother, all the grief 1 have I 11 
caused you,” said the son, as ho sank on the I l 1 
mother’s tender bosom, and was pressed to her 
heart. The Pastor also embraced his soil with I 1 
tears of joy runnlngdown his cheeks, “ Bloused I ti 
be God ” he exclaimed fervently, “ For all blB I d 
mercies, and this it* trie crowning mercy.” I n 
The children came forward and welcomed 11 
their brother, with amazement depicted In 11 
their small faces. “This Is Fuanz,” said 11 
Lenoue, as she led them forward, and then I * 
signing to the old servants to follow her, she w 
left the room, closing the door on the happy re- d 
united family, P 
Franz Mullkk had returned to be the com¬ 
fort and support of his parents. All his youth- 1 
ful follies were left behind, and a noble and 
useful life, lay before him in the future. He I 
had made a large fortune In the far-off land of m 
America, to which he anu his compunlonB had 
lied, in the city or San Francisco lie had spent r 'l 
the greater part of his exile, resolved never to 11 
return unless he became arlch man. And now 1,1 
he has prepared to build his parents a new t,! 
house, and furnish It as handsomely as possible 
But they would not agree to the proposition ; tfi 
he might add some rooms to the parsonage il I *' r 
he chose, and buy a few articles of furniture, I al 
but they needed nothing else. What Fraulein I t *’ 
Lenoue thought of the returned traveler, no " 
one could toll. She saw that ho was handsome, I 
aud accomplished in an uuusual degree, and I ^ 
his manners were those of a polished gentle¬ 
man. To her he was especially courteous, I W | 
almost too much, so she thought, taking par- p ( 
ticular care to address her as “ Countess.” at 
After he had been at home about a mouth, he lo 
seemed to become weary of Inaction, and stated Hn 
his intention of entering Into some kind of i(1 
business in the neighboring town of W., about vvi 
ten miles distant from Atisdorf. He accord- Vu 
ingly entered into negotiations, with some of ^ 
the merchants of W., and thus was obliged to of 
absent himself frequently from home, ludeed W4 
his visits became so few that his mother began fr ^ 
to tillnk her son was losing Ills affection for lll( 
them all. But when he did come he was her bu 
uear, kind Franz again. I w j 
“I can’t understand what Fuanz means,” nii 
she said one day to Lenore, after Jie had been 0 f 
a whole week w ithout coming to see them, l„ 
“I can tell you,” answered Lknoiuc, with a ou 
heightetied color. “He stays away because I 6t , 
am here. He dislikes me. 1 have seen it ever B j t 
since he came home. He evidently thinks me uii 
an intruder.” U8 
Tue Pastor's wife looked at her with amaze- ra( 
ment. “ Why. my dear child, how can you gr | 
think that of Franz? He could not dislike k,. 
you; he knows all you have been to us.” a t 
“It Is true, nevertheless," Insisted the girl. no 
“Aud 1 am keeping your only son out of the ] 0 , 
house, and I am only a stranger, after all. 1 t u 
have no actual right to my place in the house; th 
so I have decided to go away." q ( 
“ To go away ?” au 
“ Yes; I have my own roof, under which I can S ei 
find shelter, poor as it is. I will go to Castle ini 
Waldeck." The color came aud went in the &ie 
face, as she utteted these words with great bu 
rapidity, and the little hands were nervously | nit 
If clasped and unclasped in the excitement of the 
ly moment. 
“She is beside herself,” thought Frau Mut- 
\jr ler. “8be cannot mean it.” Shestood by the 
window, and just at this moment saw her son 
d entering the gate of the little garden in front. 
“Ah, Franz will settle it,” she thought, and 
tl left the room quickly, while Lenore, overcome 
e by her unwanted excitement. Eank Into a cbnlr. 
r In a few moments, the sound of a footstep 
il sin* well knew made her heart beat quickly, 
n and as the door opened she looked up aud met 
a the frank blue eyes of Fhanz Muller. “ My 
!j mother tells me that you wish to speak to me. 
i Countess,” he said gravely, as ho advanced. 
I She flushed painfully m she rose, exclaiming, 
- “I did not. say so, Herr Franz; and yet perhaps 
1 ft Is better that I should take this opportunity 
r to ask you a question." 
r “ I am at your orders, Countess.” 
r “Pray do not take this tone with me, Herr 
. Muller, or my lips are closed. I will not de- 
tain you. I merely wished to know 7 why you 
absent yourself aud grieve your parents by so 
J doing. Am I wrong in supposing it is because 
of my presence here?” 
“ IleKtaned, but replied without looking at 
her: “ You are right; it is because of your 
presence here, I stay away.” 
” I knew It,” she answered. “ I told your 
mother so. 1 have seen your studied avoidance 
of me, and I know that it proceeds from dis¬ 
like; you cannot deny it.” 
“ Hisllke?" he answered in alow voice, while 
a deep Hush passed over his face. “Never, 
Goiintesa; J deny It.” 
W hat is It then ?’’ she inquired, passionate¬ 
ly. “ It looks like hatred, your avoidance of 
me, when I wished you to treat me as a sister. 
Your perslatance in addressing me as “Coun¬ 
tess, ’ when you kuow I have never assumed ' 
the title, or wished to do so—what is H If not 
dislike?” 
He raised Ills head suddenly and looked full 
into her dark eyes, with a gaze that was cer¬ 
tainly not one of dislike. He came quickly to 
her side, and said in a low 7 voice, "Do you 1 
wish to know what the feeling Is which makes 
me shun your presence, makes me dread even * 
the sound of your sweet voice?” She Pent her 
head, she dared not meet his eyes again. “ 1 
have dared to love you, Countess Lenoue l-I, < 
Fhanz Mollek, the Pastor's son— 1 have 1 
struggled against the passion ln>t In vain, and * 
now it only remains f jr you to mote out the ' 
punishment, my presumption merits,” * 
He Pent his handsome head, as if to receive a 
the blow. Lenore could not answer; she e 
trembled bo violent ly that she was forced to sit i! 
down. Franz sprang to her side. “ Forgive „ 
mo; 1 have offended and frightened you with 
my violence." Hite looked up, with the tears 
in her dark eyes, and held out her hand, whteb 
lie clasped tightly in his. “ I am not offended, 
I did not know—l could not guess, O Herr v 
Muller." “Site could saYno more, hut lie un« 8 
derstoud her, and bending down be clasped her ' 
passionately to his heart. 
Thus Fraulein Lenore was wooed and won ! s ' 
There is little need to tell of the rejoicings In * 
the Pastor’s house, when all was known. U 
There was no necessity to delay the marriage, n 
and, before the buds in tho forest were green <, 
Lenore, CounteBs Von Waldeck, had become 
plain F’rau Mult-bu ; but she was none the less 
a Countess, In dignity and grace, ns she stood 
beside her noblo-looking husband, and received 
the good Pastor's blessing. The Castle was re- ol 
paired and refurnished for their occupation, so w 
that by the following Christmas a Christmas r< 
tree raised Its shining brauclies under the d 
aucient roof, and Hans and Grktcttkn rejoiced P' 
that “Christmas had come back to Castle 11 
Waldeck.” v* 
new publications. 
J J Or. ! 'i fe Adventures in the 
3 ut ' With over two hundred and Hfty Illus¬ 
tration*, Including forty-eight full-page en- 
craymgs. By THOMAS W. K sox. r8vo.-pp iJJ 1 
i Hartford, Conn.: A. D. Worthington & Go. ^ 
, The author has traveled over well-beaten 
L Helds, but, keeping Ills eyes Open, lias seen 
much that others have overlooked. What he 
. tells, however, is the most Interesting portion 
to average readers, giving pictures of real life 
of the people, which too many travelers are 
apt to forget. Those people who wish to know 
how they would ho apt to act and feel when 
visiting memorable places In Europe, the Holy 
Laud and Egypt, can got a better idea from 
this volume than from most books of travel. | 
Tho racy, vigorous style of the author makes 
the narrative interesting as well as Instructive, I 
and the large, full-page illustrations increase 
the vividness of tho Impression, although many 
of the minor piotures could be much better 
dispensed with. “Head-pieces” and “tail¬ 
pieces” are out of place as illustrations in a 
book which otherwise shows skill and taste in 
Its make-up. 
Household Klegnucies. hhiggestions iu House- I 
'‘Old Art nu<l Tasteful Home Decorations By I 
Mrs. C. 8. Jones untt Henrv t WtiniMa I 
I Large 8 VO.-pp. UOtl.j New York Will lams 
The Increasing wealth, taste and refinement 
of our people properly find their best field for 
development In the decoration of Homes. As 
an aid In this good work the tasteful and beau¬ 
tiful volume before us la sure of n hearty 
welcome. Tbo various decorations for home 
adornment are figured and their preparation 
fully described. It Is astonishing how much 
t lie beauty—aye, and comfort—of a room can 
be Increased at small cost if husbands and 
fathers will encourage their wives and daugb- I 
ters in the fascinating employment of making 
these Household Elegancies. 
Going West» Or, the Portia of a Poor Boy. By I t 
Oliver optic. With thirteen Ulostnitidns. ri'e M 
uio.-pp. B0U.3 Boston: Lee A Shepard. L I 
Oliver Optic's stories need no introduction 1 
or * ominendatloii to the Juvenile American I t 
public, in “Going West” the author tackles | i 
a subject peculiarly Interesting to Young v 
America. We predict that the boys and girls Lg 
will make a rush for this book and look with [ a 
avidity for the remainder of “ The Great West- k 
ern Series," of which It la the first volume. It c 
Is published In excellent style, g 
by ”r B fjg£ 
^ tonTiie , Tshl^rL JU ‘ U>AD ' 3,U,r "" a S ""' 
Tint admirers of a hyrnu which Is popular I 
w herever the English language in spoken aud I 
sung are indebted to the publishers above 
named for a must beautifully Illustrated, print¬ 
ed and bound brochure for the Holidays or any 
season. We have seen nothing In better style 
and taste for a Jong time, and trust the treas¬ 
ure-in both language and form—may make 
many recipients happy, 
LIGHT AND DARKNESS. 
[Under this heading the Quiver, an English Jour¬ 
nal, gives the following exceptionally good poem .1 
Why live when life ts sad. 
Death only sweet? 
Why tight, when closest fight 
Ends in defeat? 
Why pray, when purest prayer 
Dark thoughts assail ? 
Why strive, and strive again. 
Only to fall 7 
Why hope, when life has proved 
Our best hopes vain ? 
Why love, when love i» fraught 
With so ranch pain ? 
Why not cool heart and brain 
In the deep wave ? 
Why not lie down and rest 
In the still grave ? 
Live—there are many round 
Needing thy care. 
Pray—there ts One at hand 
Helping thy prajer. 
Fight—for the love of God, 
Not for renown. 
Strive—but tn His great strength, 
Not in thine own. 
Hope—there Is heaven’s Joy 
Laid up for thee. 
Love-for true iove outlives 
Its agony. 
Fight, pray, and wrustle on, 
Loving God best; 
Then, when thy work ts done, 
Lie down and rest. 
Glcnuings tor the Curious from the 11 it r vest 
Literature. A Melange of Excernta, 
Collated by L. C. Bombaugu. a , M., M. 1>, With 
Steel 1 late Portrait. 112 mo, pp. # 61.1 Hartford 
Conn : A. D. Worthington A Co. 
An admirable compilation of rare and curi¬ 
ous extracts, In prose and verse, covering the 
whole range of literature. Every Intelligent 
reader will give the collator credit for taste and 
discrimination. Tlie work la published In su¬ 
perior style—Its fine paper and typography, red- 
llued pages, and excellent bludiDg rendering It 
very attractive. 
AN EMPEPOR’S MODEST MODE OF LIFE. 
Emperor W illiam of Germany Is not a man 
who cores much for luxury. The Hev. Way land 
Forest of Boston has visited his palace recently, 
at Berlin, and writes entertainingly about it, as 
follows;—“ The Emperor dees not seem to have 
anything ho wishes to conceal. 1 spent a very 
interesting hour in passing through the palace, 
which is his constant city resideuee. It Is not 
very grand, or even sumptuous. But enter It 
and you at once foci that you are in tho home 
of a soldier. It Is almost an arsenal.it is so 
warlike every way. Old armor and new armor, 
fragments of shells—the mementoes of buttles, 
models of various guns, great relief maps of 
battlefields and lortresses —these are every¬ 
where about. Almost all the pictures, too, are 
martial—battle scene after battle scene; some 
of older conflicts, others of the modem fights 
in which the Emperor himself is the conspicu¬ 
ous figure. 1 went into the Emperor’s private 
study and library. I saw the chair in which he 
sits, the desk at which he writes, the pile of 
dispatches awaiting his attention, the books he 
uses, the papers fresh from his band. It is 
manifestly u workman's place—this study. The 
grim old Emperor is evidently no Idler. He 
keeps his hand on things. 1 am told that he is 
at his table every morning gt six o'clock. Well, 
no one can help honoring the fearless old fel¬ 
low 7 amid such proofs of painstaking devotion 
to duty. Sixteen miles from Berlin is Potsdam, 
the favorite residence of King Frederick the 
Qreat. H re, too, is the present Emperor's 
summer palace. \\ ell, there is many a couuiry 
seat in America more splendid. I was most 
interested in this palace in the Emperor's 
sleeping room. It is utterly plain. IIis bed la 
but a single mattress upon a narrow aud com¬ 
mon bedstead.” 
‘"’’cnees l» Constable nml 
Gillies. Edited t>y Richard henry Stod¬ 
dard, [16 rao.—pp. 886.J New York: Scribner 
Armstrong A Co. 
This is another volume of the excellent Brie- 
a- Brae series, which Mr. Stoddard is render¬ 
ing both popular and famous. It comprises 
reminiscences of many English writers and 
other notables, and will be perused with inter¬ 
est aud Instruction by the admirers or the best 
literature in our language. 
Uallntlu 111 Home. By George m. Baker. With 
Forty 7 xuU - pwe Illustrations. [Large »vo.—pp. 
1BLJ Boston : Lee A Shepard. 
This is a fine collection of excellent poems 
by favorite authors, beautifully Illustrated. It 
cannot fell of belDg widely appreciated, and is 
cerlainiy a charming work for the Holidays— 
such as should make happy both the giver and 
receiver. 
Brought to the Front i or. The Y oung De¬ 
fenders. By Rev. Elijah Kellogg, author of 
Sowed by tie Wind.” Ac. lliuBLruU.il. [16 rno.- 
pp. 820.] Boston : Lee A Shepard. 
An excellent Holiday book for the young 
people. It la one of the “ Forest Glen Series,” 
and fully maintains the reputation of its popu¬ 
lar author. The text comprises a good Indian 
story, which will interest both young aud old. 
TIME. 
The Last of the Old Year. 
BY HAY HULBURT. 
O, Time, relentless Time, why 
Speed away, away, away, 
Another hour, another day- 
till years are piled upon years and centuries 
upon centuries, until, ere long. Time wav shall 
be written upon every side, and Tim? shall be 
na more shall resound throughout the mighty 
universe and shall echo and re-ocho down the 
vast corridors of a never-ending eternity. Be- 
, ginning, begun, ending, ended—»o pass the years 
away. From the cradle onw-ard, till the head is 
hoary with tho frosts of many winters, the cry 
of Time is ever ringing In our ears—Going- 
going—gone 1 
“ O, n wonderful atreutn ts the river Time, 
As it runs through tho realm of tears, 
With a faultless rhythm and a uiusioal rhyme, 
And a boumtlo.Mx sweep aud a surge sublime, 
As It blends with tbo ocean of years. 
*• How the winter* are driftiug like flakes of snow, 
And the summers like buds between, 
And the year tn this sheaf, so they come and go.” 
“ O, Thou Eternal One, whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motion guide, 
Unchanged through 'Time's all devastating flight; 
Thou only Goo I” 
Life—what is it? A myth,a vapory dream, a 
passing shadow. And is this all ? Will our 
footsteps of tbo past year leave no impress? 
Will they be wholly obliterated by the wash¬ 
ings of the lllver of Time ? Will the dark spots 
they may have loft be wholly cleansed and blot¬ 
ted from memory's page? Will there be no 
bright pictures of the past to come up before 
us,—no gems of love or friendship to cheer us, 
—no remembrance of kiudly deeds to others, 
or work of charity done in Jesus’ name ? Must 
all be of the earth, earthy, forever past ? Ah, 
lio ! “ Life is not an empty dream,” but a liv¬ 
ing reality, a type of the life beyond. 
“ There's a land far away, 'mid the stars, we are told. 
Where they know not the sorrows of time,— 
Where the pure waters wander through valleys of 
gold, 
And life is a treasure sublime." 
Our life, what shall it be. O, my sister, my 
brother, what shall we do with the time that 
is ours now? 
“ The Past—where is It V It has fled. 
The Future V It may never come. 
Our friends departed ? With the dead. 
Ourselves? Fast hastening to the tomb. 
What are earth’s Joys ? The dews of morn. 
Its honors? Ocean’s wreathing foam. 
Where’s peace V fn trials meekly borne. 
And Joy ? In Heaven—the Christian’s Home.” 
----— 
make the best of yourself. 
. Are you makingithe best of yourself? Are 
you using to the best advantage the natural 
powers of body and mind given you by your 
Creator? Or are you droning through life In 
half efforts, and steadily drifting behind men 
of I*bb ability than your own—men who, with 
fewer talents tban you possess, are making the 
best of themselves? Think of this. Put the 
question to yourself as we put It to you, aud do 
, , , u t. _ r « _ quvBv.ou jnuiocii as wc yui* ii> iu you, ana an 
RiSSKJ?*: 
The main poem in-'tliis volume is a charming 
production aud will find many admirers, while 
the lesser pieces possess much merit. The au¬ 
thor of such poems should not be ashamed to 
give his or her name iu full. 
, 0 r)Y il1 U Fortune. By Miss Eliza 
A. DUPUV. [Xhno.— pp. 512.] Phila.: T. B. Be- 
terson & Bros. 
Tins Is a well-written tale by a popular au¬ 
thor, and will interest aud entertain novel 
readers. 
begin a new 7 life at once. Do your best in every¬ 
thing— iu yourthinking aud in your doing. Rise 
out of indolence and self-indulgence, aud not 
only will the world be the better for your hav¬ 
ing ilved in it, but you will be better for having 
lived In the world. 
—-«■-*■•*- 
Surrounded by Deity, Imbued and pene¬ 
trated by Him, we are yet approaching while 
we enjoy Him, but shall never reach Him—au 
endless progression of pleasure. 
