THE RURAL WE 
WQV. 
strung. As for the noise, It was one of those 
mysterious sounds never accounted for, but cast 
amongst ■* things not generally known.” 
in the morning the doctor called to see; us, as 
he promised to do, and with him and Kitty as 
wit nesses we determined to open t he chest or box 
and relieve our minds of doubt as to what It con¬ 
tained. There might, be property,-In fact we had 
no doubt but what there was, - and possibly 
traces or family connections, wr friends with 
whom we ought to communicate. 
The key was turned ; the lid raised, t he tick¬ 
ing of ..‘bed, old, yellow, and discolored, was 
folded over the contents. As we essayed to re¬ 
move it. It fell to fragments In our hands, dlsolos- 
ing-good heaven !—such a sight as eyes have 
rarely rested upon. Kitty shrieked; I almost 
fainted, and llairy Involuntarily caught, me In 
his arms. Even the doctor blanched, and fell 
back a step or two. For there lay, under the 
fragments of the old ticking, the remains of a 
man Little rnoro than a skeleton, little more 
than a heap of rags, and more or less moldy 
dust, hidden amongst which was a costly watch 
and chain, a set of studs, and a diamond ring of 
very great price, trinkets whoso value would 
have kept the lady who lay dead In comfort two 
or three years. . .. ... 
Who was this man ? and what the motive that 
led to this strange lnclosure of his body? 
the remains those of a husband from whom, like 
Queen .lane, she could not part? or was it the 
body of a murdered man—a guilty lover—a Jeal¬ 
ous spouse, thrust from sight and concealed at 
the expense of a life-watch ? This was the secret 
of the eccentricity or the woman who mut kept 
ghastly companionship under our root so long. 
I remembered her book, and potting my hand 
into my pocket pulled It forth ; for In the solemn 
hour of death, during the grief and fatigue that 
followed, and the subsequent, foolish alarm of the 
night, I had forgotten It. Closing the lid over the 
ghastly spectacle, t urning the key In the lock, and 
securing als J the chamber-door, was the work of 
a short time : and afterwards we gathered In our 
Utile parlor together, to learn the terrible facts 
which Harry read t/j us. and which I here copy 
from the contents of the Clasped Volume.-iuon- 
cluded next week. 
___ _ 
THE POET BOAKES. 
BV AN ADMIRER OF HIS. 
means on the subject of my friend’s reception. 1 
was trying 10 recollect'whether he preferred a 
mattress or a feather bed, when Charley’s pencil 
stopped. He handed the fly-Bheet back again, 
scribbled over. 
- That’s my little Idea,” he said. “A procession 
from the station, you know. And have It In the 
county paper.” 
This was Charley’s little Idea: 
AR11 Ah’GEMENT OF PROCESSION 
IN HONOR or THE ARRIVAL, AT OSHKOSH OF 
THE POET BOAKE8. 
3 
It has always been a cause of exultation, not 
to say ot boastfulness on my part, that I am and 
have been, and I trust shall be, the friend Of the 
poet Boakes. 1 fear that I have Inflicted the poet 
Boakea on my relations anil friends. Ills name, 
and the product ions which have given that name 
Us renown, arc familiar to all my relations. Many 
of the inhabitants of tiro village have also heard 
of the poet Boakes,—RoaCT-s, In short, is my weak¬ 
ness, as my sister Kato often declares. 
Roakcs has a certain reputation, but Is not ap¬ 
preciated by the world as lie deserves. The re¬ 
views, indeed, have bestowed upon him a constd- 
slderable amount of attention. 
<i ’|'uo name of Mr. Roalces Is a household word 
with lovers ot \mnry."-J'arlhmon. 
A3 oy the vulture was devoured the heaitof 
Prometheus, so by the lire of genius is consumed 
the soul of Mr. Boakes.”-CY/xmopnme. 
“ Mr. Boakes’ poetry has much that reminds us 
of Ryron's mlsnnUirjple gloom, and, at tho same 
time, of the Ill-fated poet’s colossal command over 
the intellects of hutnaniry .”—AIMnian limine. 
“ It, appears to us that whatever mental differ¬ 
ence may exist between a baby in arms and Mr. 
< .. 41m tr\ I'lYA f»l* ? 
Boukes Is rather In favor of the former 
Iuaknltc. „ _ , 
All lids, and much more, has made Boakes 
known, of course, to the lit erary world; but he Is 
still short of the universal reputation to which 
poets aspire. 
“ Here’s the posiman,” said my sister Kate, one 
morning, us she was cutting bread and butter. 
Mv Other slater, who was arranging t he fuchsias 
and geraniums on the dower-stand in trout of t he 
window, left the room, and presently returned 
with ft letter. 
“For you, George,” she said, laying It by my 
plate. 
“ How tiresome!’ my matter of fact sister said 
“ Nothing for us?” 
“ There is a great* ileal for you, Kate,” I said, 
having opened and read the note. 
“ What a present?” said Kate. 
“Or any novels?” asked my other sister, Je¬ 
mima. . . .. 
>. Neither,” I said: “but Jemima’s guess Is the 
nearest.” 
“ Don’t be tiresome, George,” Kate said. “ What 
is there for ua ?” 
“An immense and ethereal pleasure,” I said, 
“ long outliving novels.” 
“ j mat Is It?” said a trio of voices—my sisters’ 
and my young brother’s. 
“Boakes,” I replied, solemnly. “Boakes Is 
about to honor us with a visit.” 
“ How tiresome.” said Kate. Jemima said noth¬ 
ing. 
“ When Is he coming?" asked my brother Char¬ 
ley, with an articulation that contended with 
doubtful success against halt a sardine that had 
just left the point of his fork. 
“ To-morrow, by the morning train.” 
“ By Jove,” said Charley. “ But. I say, we must 
got up a procession to escort him from the station. 
Give me the blank leaf or his letter, George." 
I tore It, off and handed It over, and Charley, 
neglect ing tho sardines, waR soon at work with 
paper and pencil. Meanwhile my sisters, who 
were clearly not Insensible of the honor about to 
be done us, wept Into committee pf ways and 
The VilliiKe Briimi Band. 
The .Military Company of the Village in Uni¬ 
form. 
The Rev. George Cnnipion. 
. xhe Sunday School Children, aeattering flow- 
£ era. 
I Chabi.es Camfion, Krq., driving 
| THE POET BOAKES. 
^ I n a wagon. 
£ The two .Misses Campion, the five Misses Gug- 
8* L-Ieton, olil Slocoek’e A uni, and the Justice s 
u-ood-looklug Cook, attired, ax neatly »« posei 
ble on so short a uolice, to represent Uic 
Nine Muses. 
Old Slooock. Old Ougglcton. 
“I could stand up in tho wagon, you know," 
said Charley; “ old Toby’s as quiet as a sheep.” 
a Wti at would be tho good of that? ” asked Je¬ 
mima. ,, 
“ i could be Apollo,” said Charley, modestly, 
“and crown Boakes with laurel. But, I say,’ 
Charley had Unlshed breakfast, and strolled to¬ 
wards the window,— 1 * come here, George, there’s 
a 1 ramplsh-looking fellow trundling a wheelbar¬ 
row, wit h a box in It,, up our drive.” 
“ i rose, and by the time 1 got to Charley’s side, 
the wheelbarrow was almost under the window, 
“ By Jove t” I exclaimed, “ It’s Boakes!” and l 
rushed out lo the door. 
“Mr. Boakes, my sister Kate; Mr. Boakes, my 
sister Jemima, my brother Charles.” 
“ 1 must apologize. Miss Campion,” said Boakes 
to Kate, gravely, “ for making my appearance in 
this way. But after 1 had written I thought 1 
would rundown a day earlier; and the wheelbar¬ 
row being the only thing avatiabc at, the station, 
I thought It would do me good to be my own ror- 
ter. I have laid a delightful drlvo through the 
lanes.” 
In spite of his outre arrival, Boakes so comport¬ 
ed himself for the remainder of the day, that 
Kate's prejudice against lilm began to wear olT. 
He talked sensibly, even conventionally. 
At tea he conversed, beginning to be at home 
hy this time, w ith much affublllty ; to the great 
amusement of my sisters, he gave Jllppant Master 
Charley some excellent advice. 
“You are,” said Boakes, stirring his tea with a 
very serious air,—“you are approaching the age 
at which everybody always is In danger of mak¬ 
ing a fool of nimseir. You will be romantic.” 
“ Well,” said Charley, modestly, “I think I e-r* 
already." 
“I'm sure, you’re not,” said Kate. 
“ I wish he was, Mr. Boakes,” Jemima remarked, 
if I'm not romantic.,” said Charley, firmly, 
“I’m interesting.*" 
“I don’t warn you against being Interesting 
yourself,” Boakes.sald, “but against, attributing 
the attraction to some one else of the opposite, 
sex who hasn’t money. Take as much interest, as 
you like, the more the better, In a girl who has 
money.” 
My sister Jemima looked rat her astonished. 
“ Why, Boakes,” I said, “how about that poem, 
beginning, 
*' * Not for golden charms I woo thee-, 
But if they illumine thy tresses, 
Then, indeed, ah, then T sue thee. 
Hood me! to thy Jesses, 
Bind me, falcon-wise, 
With bright hair, and brighter eyes. 
The world I hate, and its vile treasure, 
I scorn the koU for which it lies, 
Nor love earth’s labor, but the leisure 
Of liberal blue skies; 
O soulless goldsn ones!” 
“My dear rcllow,” Interrupted Boakes, with an 
air of pitying remonstrance, “my dear fellow, 
you forget that business is business. That piece 
was written for The Mauve Magazine, which 
takes that sort of thing, and l got a five dollar 
bill for it. Might I ask you for another cup, Miss 
Jemima?" 
disfavor with which Kate from that time regarded 
him, it would have been supplied by the fact that 
when lie did appear, he was attired In a blue 
dressing-gown, and was smoking the meerschaum 
1 had seen so much—too much—of, a few hours 
before. ^ ^ 
But I fear that the reader IS beginning to have 
an uufavorable opinion of the friend who stands 
highest in my admiration and estimation. 1 
hasten, therefore, to counteract lids possible Im¬ 
pression. During his stay at Oshkosh, the poet 
Boakes was not proud, or reserved, or absurd, or 
immoral among my friends, bur., on the contrary, 
perfectly genial and polite. With great condes¬ 
cension lie dined at the judge’s, supped with old 
Slocock, and took tea with the Gugglcton family 
and, at all these places, was agreeable, and fluent 
in small talk. The Misses Guggletou admired 
immensely (a* I perceived did my sister 
Jemima), and tried to make him write verses In 
their five albums. This, however, Boakes evade d. 
“I suppose If 1 were a shoemaker,” he said to 
me afterwards, “ they’d ask me lo make them 
slippers tor nothing, and I suppose 1 shouldn’t." 
Further, Boakes attended church, and showed 
the cuudor of true friendship by tomahawking 
my sermon afterwards, lie seemed very much 
Interested In my sisters, und paid them both at¬ 
tention, especially Kate. 
“I'll tell you why," said Charley to mo ouc 
morning. “ I know, lor he k been pumping me 
all yesterday to find out whether one has more 
money than the other, and how much each has. ’ 
And that, very night, Boakes. with the openness 
which is one of his most pleasing characteristics, 
lniormed ino In the kitchen, while lighting Lis 
thirteenth pipe, that he wished to marry one of 
my sisters. 
“Which?” I asked. 
“ l rather Infer from what Charley has said,” 
Boakes returned, playing with the tassels of his 
dressing-gown, “that one ot them has as much 
money of her own as the other.” 
“ Yes,” I answered. 
“Then I don't much care which I take,’ said 
Boakes, pulling out a great cloud. “ 1 had a 
slight preference certainly, hut it's a minor 
point, i rather think I’ve gathered, rny dear 
fellow, that, each or them has twenty live thou¬ 
sand dollars at. her own present disposal ?” 
“Yen. Twenty-five thousand dollars at her 
own present disposal,” 1 answered. I was 
charmed with the prospect of tho alliance. 
Boakes meditated. 
“Then Ill ask Kate to-morrow,” he said at 
last. ..... . ^ 
“I i think Jemima likes you best, I ventured 
to suggest, lighting a cigar stump for the fifth 
time. . . 
“But I like Kate best,” Boakes returned. 
“Perhaps she thinks I'm not romantic enough 
for a poet. ir I were unconventional, you know, 
less commonplace and respectable—went out, 
say, to tho next dinner patty in my dressing- 
gown—would that win her affections? 
“My dear fellow,” I said evasively, “Jemima, 
I am convinced, likes you.” 
“ But I rather like Kate.” 
“Well, then,” 1 said, emboldened. “Kate, to 
speak the truth, rather dislikes you.” 
The poet Boakes received this Information 
with enough emotion lo necessitate his emptying 
his glass of brandy and water, and asking me to 
mix mm another. 
“ Put the sugar in before the water, please, he 
said, “ How old is Jemima ?” 
“ About twenty-two.” 
“ You’re sure Kuto won’t have me, and Jemima 
Boweth before the polden Anteros; 
If I. as roast do, marry not for love, 
But because such an one in fair enough, 
And stand* on the name social ladder-rung 
As bears my own feet, and both wealth enow*, 
If this were all, there are o million girla 
In Columbia fit to fire me. Shame on me. 
If T, a poet too. thus clmoae a wife." 
At this point both Kate and Charley burst, I 
am ashamed to say, Into a simultaneous tit of 
laughter. I read no more to them. They are not 
exactly swine, but their minds’ eyes arc too 
weak to discern the luster ol the pearls ot genius. 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
BTC. U. E. R. 
Commenting on the rapid growth of New Y'ork, 
a city Journal printed some time since the follow- 
l[,tr ;_•* no other single lact demonstrates bo pal¬ 
pably the very rapid growth of our city as the 
one stated In connection with the ceremony of 
breaking ground for the now Post-olflee, 1 he first 
shovelful of earth was east, by the roan who form¬ 
erly carried our whole Southern mall In a w heel- 
barrow, and took It, over the river in a row-boat. 
During one mau’s life, that wheelbarrow load haB 
grown so that lialf-a-dozen locomotives are nec¬ 
essary tx> move It.” 
The average time required for a finger-nail to 
attain Its full length (from the root to the com¬ 
mencement of the free edge) Is about four and a 
half calendar months. The toe-nails grow much 
more slowly. 
The following countries are suggested as possi¬ 
ble abodes lor the classes named:—Lapland for 
topers, Serv-yer for waiters, Gnaw-awny lor hun¬ 
gry folks, and Bull own for cattle breeders. 
of Julius the Second, the warlike Pope, It Is re- 
laDsl that at the siege or Mlrundola he was found 
in the trenches, aimed In breastplate and hel¬ 
met, and directing the operations of the military 
engineers. One who found him so occupied and 
so accoutered, expressed Ids wonder that the 
Vice-regent Of t he PrliiCO of Peace should he thus 
engaged, adding that, so far from encouraging 
war, the Master had strictly ordered Saint Peter 
to sheath his sword, even when he had drawn It 
in tlie Master s defence. “ True,” said the Pope, 
•* but he did not give tho order until after Saint 
Peter had cut off Maichus’ ear.” 
The old botanists had a way of exhausting, so 
far as their knowledge went, every subject they 
took in hand. Who among scientific men nowa¬ 
days, for Instance, would number among the uses 
of the birch, as old Coles did,Its tUgellatory func¬ 
tions? "Besides all these,”ho says, after enu¬ 
merating the medicinal properties of t he tree, “ it 
Is useful for tho punishment ot children both at 
home and at school; for 11 hath an admirable In¬ 
fluence on them when they arc out of order, and 
therefore some call It 1 Makepeace.’ ” 
Kate shortly afterwards whispered to me that 
“he” (meaulng Boakes) “ was, for a poet, a sensi¬ 
ble man." 1 rather doubt whether, If she had 
been 1, she would not, In t he course of the ensu¬ 
ing night (or rather morning), have fallen back 
upon her old opinion. Boakes, In theory, might 
be a practical man, but In practice he was as in¬ 
convenient as the most unconventional theorist. 
We adjourned to the kitchen for one pipe arter 
the girls had gone to bed, but Boakes kept filling 
again when it went out, arid detained me till 
three o’clock In tho morning, ills conversation 
was, of course, charming; but I did not enjoy it 
to the full ex Lent. For, being a poor smoker, and 
keeping It up with Boakes In the spirit of com¬ 
plaisance, l went to bed very HI, and had a head¬ 
ache all the next day. 
Kate, of course, missed this opportunity of as¬ 
certaining the Impossibility of rooting out the In¬ 
grained Bohemianlstn of tho poetical character. 
But she was not long without one. For we found 
next morning that the objection entertained by 
The poe t Boakes to going to bed, was not- st ronger 
than that, which lie had to getting up. The break¬ 
fast things were kept on the table tilt within an 
hour of lunch time. Then, and not till t hen, the 
poet Boakes, tu a double sense, descended lo us. 
If anything had been wanting to complete the 
What sad lack of realizing power was shown by 
tnat culprit who, coming out ou to the scaffold 
where he was to perform his last earthly part, 
round It w T as raining, and asked tUe sheriff lo lend 
him an umbrella, “ lest he should eaten cold fiom 
the damp.” 
lit i)i fins. 
will ?” „ 
“ As far as a man can be sure about two wo¬ 
men.” .... 
“ Well," said Boakes, after a brief pause; 1 m 
not proud. I’ll try Jemima to-morrow. Twenty- 
live thousand dollars, old fellow.” 
“Being a man of my word, I'm afraid 1 can’t. 
She’ll like listening to your verses better than 
Kate would,” I said. 
“Kate’s the best hand at a pudding, 1 know,’ 
said the poet Boakes, still hankering, after the 
manner of lovers, for the girl so differently con¬ 
stituted to himself. 
‘•Kate may be a fine hand at a pudding,” 
said, “ but., with training, Jemmy might do some 
of your padding when you were tired, as I am 
now; so, tr your pipe’s out, we’ll go to bed.” 
We made this move earlier that night, and 
Boakes got up mueh earlier than usual next 
morning, and put on his best coat In lieu or the 
dressing-gown. It is unnecessary to say that. 
Jemima accepted him, und Boakes Is now my 
brother-in-law’. 
He has lately brought out a new volume ol 
poems, and I have lids morning received rrom 
nlui a copy or last weeks Owl, In which able 
literary Journal they are reviewed. A quarter of 
an hour ago 1 was reading this notice to Kate and 
Chat ley. 11 began thus : 
“Mr, Boakes, In Ids new volume, “Soarings 
and Singings,” Is as Boakeslan as ever. Never 
Bus he more exaltedly displayed lils now cele¬ 
brated contempt for the- sordid money-gelt lug 
proclivit ies of mankind. (Snigger from Charley.) 
Especially is tho brightness ot Ills muse clouded 
over with wrath wliep he shows, with scaihlDg 
satire, and lofty scorn, the unholiness of the 
alliance between money and marriage. Perhaps 
Air. Boakcs's theories about marriage are a little 
too much elevated to be practical. (Giggle from 
Kate.) For instance, the passage beginning, 
One has been given ou earth for each to love; 
One, and tin other, If 1 find her not, 
Or if smut. barrier part ber und roe, 
Shall 1 (roost like the blind and wanton vine, 
Heeding not whom, so that 1 some one wed). 
Give lokeUB to another, and the ring ? 
Ab ! yet more shameless if my sordid soul 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
ti inutvnt ,‘d India : Its Princes and People. By 
1 "frs J UI.IA A STONE. Hartford : American 
Pub. O. 
Tuts handsome volume of 621 pages lH 11 u ency¬ 
clopedia of 1 ndia as It Is to-day. The Illustrations, 
embracing W8 full-page engravings, are panor¬ 
amic in their scope, and render material assist¬ 
ance in aiding the reader to impress upon his 
mind scenes ot historic interest of which the 
letter-press gives accurate details. 
The work is not a History of India, neither is it 
a mass of dry statistics, but a vivid portrayal of 
the empire and Us people as they arc to-day; a 
recital by the writer, In a familiar and extremely 
pleasing style, of her experiences and ob-erva- 
Uon8ln India. 
As the wife of an U. 8. Consul, Mrs. Stone 
resided several years In India with uuequaled 
opportunities tor observations of the lire ot all its 
people. She traveled from one end or Hie Empire 
to the other; from .Singapore at the southern ex¬ 
tremity of Farther India, to the famous Khyber 
Pa 3 s among the Hlmalayah mountains, up t c 
sacred Ganges and down the revered Indus, 
through Buimah, Sl un, and the Islands ot the 
Archipelago, She visited all the principal cities: 
Delhi, Agra, Lucknow, Lahore, Ucnrttzer, I.oo- 
dlana, Calcutta, Bombay, und scores ot others. 
She mingled with the various sects and castes 
of the country and became familiar with the 
peculiar customs of each. Their leasts are all 
truthfully described In the text and delineated i 
the Illustrations. 
Every chapter contains some tale of adventur , 
in wbioh the people of this mysterious land ore 
actors, and the dramatic interest is at times quite 
* U As an addendum we have a pleasant account of 
the recent Journey to India of the PrlDCe 
Wales and ids retinue, and a description of t e 
gorgeous ceremonies planned to do him honor 
The book Is sold only by subscription and It Is 
said has cost a very large sum of money to pr - 
