THE BUBAL HEW-YOBKIB. 
owed herself to think about It the more sure was 
she that ho never looked up to her with such a 
light in his eyes as there was In them when he 
gazed upon the bright young fueo of Diantha 
Derrick. Again the green-eyed monster took 
sole possession of the heart of the thoroughly sel¬ 
fish woman. And when Mr. Hardly gave Djan- 
tha a. pretty, bluo merino dress, telling her that 
she had well earned it; she was sure then fbaltbe 
girl was fast gaining a warm place Iq the heart 
of her husband. Notwithstanding his gift to her 
of an elegant brown silk at, the same time, she 
cherished the most revengeful feelings toward the 
Innocent'girl. However, she was careful not to 
express her Jealous sentiments to him, for fear of 
offending past forgiveness. 
“I’ll not endure her presonco another day,” 
thought the enraged woman, as she put her own 
beautiful present away “Slio shall go from 
here, and I care not what becomes of her! To 
think, after I’ve taken care of her for almost a 
year and got so many things for her, that sho 
should pay me In this ’ere wayl At first she tried 
to get my children to lovo her better’n me, and 
now sho 13 using ail her wits to gala my hus¬ 
band’s love. But she'll tramp, and without any 
of my money, either. The ungrateful critter!” 
And sure enough, tho following morning Iuan- 
tha was ordered to pick up her things and go. 
Mrs. IIarply did not deign any reason, excepting 
that Mr. Hardly did not wish her to remain any 
longer. This was (he uukludest and deepest 
wound, as the woman Intended it. should be. But 
It was only the strange inconsistency that grieved 
Diantha. She had looked up to Mr. Hardly as 
to a father or elder brother. She had thought 
him the truest of frlcuds, and why he should de¬ 
sire her to leave his house so abruptly was be¬ 
yond her comprehension. Not one kind word, or 
bit of advice, how or where to go: It was so un¬ 
like him. 
It was the work ot hut a few minutes to pack 
away tliu few articles of wearing apparel and 
books which sho possessed, and which she knew 
she had fully earned, into a traveling sachel: 
and without tho privilege of oven a good-by kiss 
from the children, she left the house that had 
been for many months her homo. Out Into the 
world, friendless, alone!—could anything be more 
sad than such a sight? 
Winter hud begun his reign, though in a very 
mild, quiet way: a few Inches ot snow covered 
the earth, protecting seeds and roots that were 
to bring forth fruit, tn duo season. It was long 
past noon when Diantha reached the nourishing 
village of M-, weary and hungry, live miles 
from Mr. Haudly's. Sho knew there was a rail¬ 
road passing through tho town, and she hoped to 
find some means by which she could take the 
ears, and thus get far away from the seenes of 
the past. How this was to be accomplished she 
had yet to learn. 
She had no valuable bracelet, brooch, or locket 
to be sold, the relies of better days. Her parents 
had never belonged to aristocratic circles, for the 
reason that they were poor iu this world's goods. 
They had managed lo keep themselves and child 
in food and raiment, coarse and plain, to be sore, 
while they lived, but when tUat terrible disease, 
small-pox, sent them both to All an early grave, 
there was nothing left for the llltlo Dlantua but 
to go to the almshouse. 
Now, upon this winter's day, tired, hungry 
penniless, and among strangers, what was to be 
done ? Passing up the main street of the village, 
she noticed a hair-dresser’s establishment. A 
bright thought was suggested; she would sell 
her beautiful ringlets, bhe had heard Mrs. 
Hardlv's guests admire her luxuriant hair, and 
say that it would bring a good price If she ever 
wanted to part with It. 
Half an hour later, Diantha emerged from 
Madame-’s saloon minus her curls, but In one 
corner of her handkerchief, for purse sho had 
none, was a ten-dollar bill. This was wealth; 
her hunger was soon appeased at the bakery, 
and when night, came, with Us falling flakes of 
snow, Diantha was comfortably seated tn a coach 
drawn swiftly over the track by The majestic Iron 
horse. 
“Come, miss, we’re at the Cleveland depot, and 
this train will not take you any farther.” And 
Diantha awoke, to And the sun's rays streaming 
In at the car-window, and the form of a pleasant 
motherly-faced woman standing by her; other¬ 
wise the cur was empty. She had a dim recol¬ 
lection of seeing the lady occupying a seat on the 
opposite side of the car, not tar from her, the 
evening previous, but sho was too weary to take 
much notice of her surroundings. Now she arose 
from her reclining posture, rubbing her eyes in a 
bewildered way. 
“If you were about to stop in Cleveland,” con¬ 
tinued the lady, “J presume you will Und your 
friends waiting for you In the depot.” 
“I have no friends!” exclaimed Diantha. “I 
came here because 1 did not know where else to 
go; one place was as good as another. I am an 
orphan, poor and alone-■” 
“ Hallo! darling mother, I've fouud you at last! 
I’ve been t lirough every coach on the t rain, look¬ 
ing for you. 1 expected to Und you curled up lu 
some corner asleepand the speaker grasped 
the hand of tho lady and, stooping, gave her an 
affectionate kiss of welcome. “But who have we 
here?” he Inquired, as his sparkling black eyes 
rested on the face of our young traveler. 
“ A young girl, who says she’s a poor, friendless 
orphan. Shall we befriend her, Edgar, and lake 
her to our home ?" 
“ I should think it would be well to do so, If wc 
can persuade her to accompany life lo our snug¬ 
gery. She certainly looks too Inexperienced to go 
battling about In this great city alone." 
“Well, deal-, have you any objection to placing 
yoursrjf under our protection, until perchance 
you cm do better? I am Mrs. Davis, and this Is 
my son, Edgar.” 
“I shall be greatly obliged to you tor your 
friendly protection—at least, till 1 can find em¬ 
ployment that, will help me to an honest living. 
My name Is Diantha Derrick.” 
Edgar took down the traveling Bachel from the 
rack, and inquired If she had a check for any bag¬ 
gage; and being answered In tho negative, led 
the way from the care to a carriage that was In 
waiting. 
In something less than half an hour, they were 
set down at (tie door of a pretty white cottage, 
with ta3terul Gothic arches over doors and win¬ 
dows. Naked, sprangllng vines, that had been 
covered with a luxuriant growth, through the 
summer days, and had then been trained to 
climb over porch and roof, gave Diantha an in¬ 
distinct vision ot beauteous flowers and dewey 
wreaths when the winter should pass away. 
Diantha was shown into a pleasant room on 
the second floor, w hich was to he here while sho 
remained an Inmate ot the family. Sho fresh¬ 
ened up her simple toilet with a fresh collar and 
cuffs, tried to arrange her hair into smooth | 
bands, but found It a difficult matter, and not 
easily accomplished, for It would insist upon 
forming Into little rings all over her head. The 
dust shaken irom her traveling-dress, which was 
only a small figured delaine, and her simple toilet 
was complete. Yet when she entered the cheer- 
ful breakfast-room, Mrb. Davis and her son could 
not help exchanging glances of approval at, the 
neat appearance of their guest. 
Edgar had been his mother’s housekeeper dur¬ 
ing the few days of her absence. And It was his 
hand that had prepared the nice breakfast which 
Mrs. Davis and Diantha found awaiting them. 
Although he was a fast-rising young lawyer.be 
did not disdain to help Ida mother w hen she re¬ 
quired his assistance. In his earlier years he had 
lived In opulence; but his father at last met with 
sad reverses and, to make matters worse, had 
taken bis life Into his own hands; thus leaving 
his wife and child to get along as best they might, 
alone and unprotected. 
Mrs. Davis proved to bo an energetic woman by 
attending In person to the settling up of her hus¬ 
band's affairs and, by so doing, managed to save 
a small portion of the once large property. She 
bad given her son a liberal education, and now 
sbewas rcaplngher reward, He was rapidly rising 
In his profession and distinguishing himself for 
his humane dealing with Lts clients; and sho 
knew that tils love for his mother was deep and 
abiding. 
After breakfast Edgar departed for the office, 
and Mrs. Davis attended to the household affaire, 
for she had dismissed all her servanth when she 
moved Into Humming-bird cottage; sho believed 
that the pleasure of taking care of her house 
would drive away troublesome thoughts. 
Diantha managed to make herself Immediately. 
useful to Mrs. Davis; meantime, sfio told her 
hostess the little story of her experience, and she ) 
found a sympathetic listener. When Edgar came 
home to dinner. Ids mother held a private consul¬ 
tation with him, giving him Diantha’s history as 
she had heard It. They soon came to the conclu¬ 
sion to offer her a home with them, giving her the 
privileges of a daughter and sister so long as she 
should prove herself worthy the honors. 
The winter months passed quickly away to the 
now happy girl; she attended one ot tho best 
seminaries, and so well did she Improve her op¬ 
portunities that her progress was especially grat¬ 
ifying to herself and her friends. 
But, alas! there’s seldom a rose without a thorn. 
The first week of the second term brought a fresh 
Influx of students, and among the number was 
Miss LortsK Page, a resident of the Hardly 
neighborhood. She was a very dressy girl, and 
by many considered beautiful tn form and feature. 
But the beauty of kind deeds and loving words 
were not the Impress of her soul, and therefore 
did not shine out upon the lineaments of her fair 
face. 
No sooner did she recognize Diantha than she 
Raid, in a voice loud enough to be heard by a score 
or more of young ladles, every one of tuem ad¬ 
mirers of the lovely and lovable Dlaxtha :—“ f 
don’t propose to go to school here to associate 
with our county paupers. Mrs. Hardly would not 
keep her In her house any longer, even for a serv¬ 
ant. And If the principal does not expel Diantha 
Derrick D'om lids quarter 1, for one, will not 
come another clay.” “Nor I," “Nor I,” echoed a 
hall dozen of Louise's friends. 
Every eye was turned upon the face of Diantha 
who, feeling rather than seeing the curl of haugh¬ 
ty lips and the Hash of scornful eyes, burst into 
tears and fled from the room. A few there were 
who took up the gauntlet In the poor girl’s be¬ 
half; but it was of little use, except, as it exhibited 
a hugeness of heart quite unknown to the rest. 
Diantha had scarcely hnlshed telling the story 
or hop grief to her foster-mother, ero a note was 
received srom the principal of tile school, request¬ 
ing the withdrawal or Miss Derrick rrom the 
seminary, for she could not afford to lose the pa¬ 
tronage or several wealthy families, as she would 
be obliged to if the young lady continued through 
the term. 
It was a sore trial to Diantha thus to bo torn 
away from her classes. Still, sho could notendure 
the thought of entering another school, possibly 
to stand the chance of another rebuff. 
When Edgar came home at night, he missed 
the fair face from the parlor and the pretty com¬ 
pliments he usually received. “ Mother, where is 
‘ Waif,' that she Is not here to give me welcome ?*' 
he said. 
“Poor child! 1 expect she Is grieving herself 
to death,” said kind-hearted ID’S. Davis. And 
then she told him of the mortifying scene in the 
school-room. 
“ What a shame to those girls!” exclaimed Ed¬ 
gar, with flashing eyes; “as though she was to 
blame tor being poor and alone In her childhood. 
But 11 she Is so minded, she can finish her course 
of studies at home. I can assist her without any 
great detriment. And I hope the time will come 
when Diantha will stand as much higher than 
her selfish, narrow-minded schoolmates, asMount 
Blanc Is higher than the level of the sea. 
“Oh! why must my poverty forever debar me , 
from the rights of a happy girlhood?” said the 
sorrowing one, as she bathed her tear-stained 
face, preparatory to going down to the Resistance 
of Mrs, Davis. “It Stoll not always keep my 
wings clipped, I will n’se In spite of my pauper¬ 
ism, and they who scorn me now shall be glad to 
be recognized by the pauper of Hardly Hollow;” 
and the beautiful face flashed a look of determi¬ 
nation at tho picture m the mirror that was sug¬ 
gestive of a nature not to bo beaten and trod upon 
with Impunity. 
“ Well, sis, what do you say to becoming a home 
student und allowing me to he your tutor?” said 
Edgar, an hour later. Just as Diantha had finish¬ 
ed Betting away the elegant china tea-set, and 
was preparing to attend to her evening lesson. 
“Oh, I should be so glad if I thought you could 
spare the time!” answered Diantha and then, 
as a new thought struck her. she exclaimed, 
“ Why couldn't, 1 help you do your copying In ex¬ 
change for your services?” 
“What, a famous manager you are, ‘Waif!' 
Then your motto, ‘ Pay as you go,’ la worthy of 
j ou. Well. If you have any time to spare, you 
may help me If you wish. Though I do not wish 
pay for anything I may do for you.” 
Six years have passed away since the little 
scene tn Miss L-'s seminary. Two ladles are | 
walktng down one of the principal thoroughfares 
of Cleveland, when a splendid equipage dashes 
by and one of the ladles inquires, “ Who is that | 
beautiful girl with Senator Davis? I am sure 
I’ve seen her somewhere, but cannot now recall 
her.” 
“ The lady who Is with him Is his wife. They 
are a magnificent couple and live In a splendid 
establishment In the city of Washington. Just 
now they are spending a few weeks here. You 
know that this Is hts native place.” 
"Yes I But you have not yet 1 uformed me whom 
he married." 
"She was Diantha Derrick less than a year 
ago.” 
“ You don't say that Diantha Derrick, the pau¬ 
per, Is Senator Davis’ wife!” exclaimed Mrs, 
Locisk Payne, nee Gage, who bad more than a 
faint remembrance of angling for the Senator the 
previous summer at one of the fashionable water¬ 
ing places; she also remembered that he was ex¬ 
tremely reserved towards her fair self and that. 
In a fit of pique, she had engaged herself to a 
h andsomo clerk, possessed of agreatdealof flashy 
pride and a small salary.” 
“We Jive In America.” said her companion, 
"and her being a pauper in her childhood, does 
not affect her womanhood, unless it does her the 
greater honor. She is nn authoress, petted and 
caressed, flattered and praised enough to turn 
any but an extremely well-balanced head, and 
such a one she possesses. Shepubllsbed her first 
book two veare ago. T t “ took" at once, both here 
and In Europe. She rose from her humble posi¬ 
tion by ber own energy, showing that she was 
worthy to take a seat among the wtso and famous 
ones of our land. Not till she was recognized 
among the first circles tor herself, would sho give 
her hand to Senator Davis. They are to have a 
grand reception before they return to Washing 
ton. Indeed. I think their cards ot invitation have 
already been Issued.” 
Mrs. Payne sighed; for well she knew that 
with all her maneuvering, she could not enter 
that charmed circle. 
44 *- 
The lady residents of large cities In America 
have adopted, lately, a very sensible style of 
heavy-soled shoe which Is a protection against 
both damp and cold. Somber colors lu dress have 
also replaced the butterfly-appearance of some 
years ago. Dress reform is gradual, but sure. 
®|)t i'itrraru Mo til). 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Thr Century •• Us Fruits purl its Festival. Being 
ii history und description of the Centennial exhi¬ 
bition, with a preliminary outline of modern 
progress. Uv KitWAHP C. BRt'CR. [Illustrated i 
Hvo.—pp. 2.V). Price £>.50 ) Philadelphia : J. B. 
T.lpptueott & Co. 
Or the many books relating to the great Exhi¬ 
bition, wc have seen none tnat we can more 
cheerfully recommend to our readers than the 
one above mentioned. To those who did, as well 
as to those who did not, have tho pleasure of vis¬ 
iting tills greatest ot all the World's Fairs, It will 
be alike Interesting and Instructive. Its several 
chapters treat of General Progress—American 
Progress—Past Expositions—The Centennial Ex¬ 
position under Roof—Minor Structures of the Ex¬ 
hibition—The Display—In the Main Building— 
The House of tho Iron Hand—Art, Agriculture 
find Horticulture-Det ached Exhibits, and one (by 
Jennie J. Y'ol’no) on Ceramics, In Ills preface 
the author states that far both notes and com¬ 
ments he Is BOlelj responsible, and in no Instance 
has he taken at second-hand descriptions or con¬ 
clusions. The Illustrations are numerous, and 
many of them superior both in faithfulness of 
drawing and In mechanical execution, and In 
themselves afford a striking exemplification of 
progress in this department during t he Century, 
A FANCY ABOUT A BOY. 
Ws stood beside the window sill. 
The little lad and I, 
Within the room was sober gloom, 
it ithont a sunset sky. 
I drew him forward to the light. 
That 1 might sec him plain. 
That sudden view ihrilled my heart through 
With a delicious pain. 
I leant hts head back o’er my ana 
And stroked his crisped hair— 
The dear, dear curls o’er which ealt pearls 
I could ha ve rained out there! 
I looked beneath hie heavy lids. 
Drooping with dreamy fold. 
What visioned eyes I saw arise! 
But nothing shall be told. 
Gayly t spoke, ” Could I count back 
Nine years and he gain nine. 
I would not say what ill to-day 
Had chanced this heart of mine.” 
He laughed— ail laughed— 1 most of all; 
But I was glad, I ween, 
That the whole room lay in such gloom— 
If Is face alone wae seen. 
He talked to mr In school-boy phrase, 
I gave him meet replies— 
I mind not what, my sense was naught, 
Or lived but in my eyes. 
I could not kiss him as a child. 
I only touched his hair. 
Or with my hand his broad brow spanned. 
But not that It was fair. 
He, strange to me. as I to him. 
We never met before; 
Yet I would fain brave mickle pain 
To sec the lad once more. 
But why this was, and Is, God knows, 
And I—I know, with joy. 
I’ll find among His angel throng 
An anged, like that boy ! 
- 
DO A LITTLE. 
Many a Christian destroys his peace and use¬ 
fulness because he Is not. willing to do little 
things. He wants to speak and pray well, elo¬ 
quently, edifyingly, or not at all. Because bo 
can’t do something great, he won’t do anything. 
He must sit in thehlghestseat, or nowhere. Now, 
no brother Is fit to do large, unless he Is willing 
to do litue, things. He must be faithful in the 
least, or he will never be useful la the greatest. 
Can you make a good minister out of a poor lay¬ 
man, or a good elder out of a mun who Is unwtl- 
llHg to do the least honorable duties of a church? 
If all were willing to add allttlotoaprayer-meet¬ 
ing, a Sunday School, or to the strength and in¬ 
fluence of the church, mere would not be so many 
praying to be excused. If wc were willing to bo 
weak, make simple prayers and speeches when 
we can do no better, wg should prey oftener, bet 
ter, aDd In every way do more good. Happy is 
the man who Is willing to do a little, to bo the 
servant of all—a door-keeper, flre-bullder, lamp¬ 
lighter, anything that will serve Christ In the 
bouse of God. 
THOUGHTS FOE THINKERS. 
Children, as well as kittens, grow weak from 
over-petting. 
It Is a proof we are growing better if our troub¬ 
les are growing less. 
How tiresome Is all which Is not based on the 
permanent, tho true! 
If wo try to be more than we are, we ball find 
we can't “ make ends meet.” 
Nor even In Imagination can wc drown thought. 
Out of the deepest waters it will rise to God. 
Sincerity is like the sun. It steadfastly'shines, 
giving only what It has and doing good to all 
around. 
Lang cage la more dependent upon knowledge 
than anything else, A clear understanding con 
generally command a clear expression. 
Faith la like a silver thread that runs through 
a chain of pearls. It has an Influence over ucd 
puts strength and vivacity Into all other graces. 
The heait must be divorced from its ldol3. Ago 
does a great deal In curing a man of his frenzy; 
but If God has a spocial work for a man, he takes 
a shorter and sharper course with him. 
The Christian Secretary puts the case admira¬ 
bly when it saya:—'* Many persons spend so much 
time In criticising and disputing about the Got 
pel, that they have none left for preaching It. 
As If two sick men should quarrel about the 
phraseology or their physician's prescript Ions and 
forget to take, the medicine.” 
It would not be worth while to live if wo were 
to die entirely. That which alleviates labor and 
sanctifies Loll, is to have before us the vision of a 
better world through the darkness of this life. 
That world is to be more real than the chimera 
which wo devour, and which wo call life. It is 
I the supreme certainty of my reason, as It is the 
supreme consolation of my soul. 
“tv ho is on the Lord’s side—who?” A luxu¬ 
rious, money-making, self-indulgent age. thinks 
to serve God and also Mammon—to live with Pha¬ 
raoh and be of Israel—to keep the doors of God's 
house (with subscriptions and donations and 
very regular attendance when convenient") and 
at the same time to dwell in tents of wickedness. 
The thing cannot be done; It Is Impossible. If 
you are not with Christ, you are against Him, 
though you preach and prophesy and pray; and 
If you do not repent, your “own company” will 
claim you la the “r^pgregatjpn of the dead.” 
