700 
fitearg Utiscfllang. 
NATURE'S CHILDREN. 
EVA KDOKIlTON. 
Daisies and buttercups, milkweed and clover. 
Ye are so beautiful all the world over, 
I would not change you for exotics rare, 
Breathing their life away in the soft air. 
Ye are so bumble, down by the glade 
Where silver-tongued brooks ripple 'neath the cool 
shade, 
Growing so beautiful in your seclusion. 
Scattering- blossoms in richest profusion, 
On the steep hillside, over the ledges. 
In the wild brambles and through the thick hedges, 
Ye are so lavish with all of your treasures. 
Covering the earth with such brimming measures; 
Asking no recompense, seeking no praise, 
Starring the meadows and dusty highways; 
But, oh! do yeknow, ye gold-hearted daisies 
Each of you tell of life’s saddest phases 1 
For, when the parting with loved ones is over. 
Under the daises and wudor the clover. 
Knowing you'll guard them with tenderest care 
We lay our loved and lost,, down ’neath you there, 
Lay them to rest, until over the river 
We meet, no more to part, never to sever. 
INMATES OF LESTEK HALL. 
(Continued from page 774.) 
CHAPTER XXI. 
THE JOURNEY. 
Mrs. Ann lev went away to spend the Christmas 
holidays with her relatives; Mattie wrote that she 
and her husband were to spend theirs at Cannes, 
“ where the orange-flowers are blossoming under 
our windowsand Cecil wrote to accept the two 
Invitations Bhe had selected, and to decline the 
others. Then there were a few days devoted to 
shopping and to Interviews with dressmakers, for 
a three weeks’ campaign In a fashionable country 
house is an important matter, ana aitnougn Ceoll* 
was engaged, she had by no means retired from 
the field, and had as many victims as ever. 
Just before the Hme fixed for the journey to 
Mrs. Brayburns the weather broke up, and from 
being fine, clear and frosty, became wild, bluster¬ 
ing and snowy. If the truth, were known, M» 
Daton would far rather have seconded Ernest’s 
proposal to spend Christmas quietly at home ; .but. 
Cecil’s will was law, and he found himself one 
snowy day in a comfortable first-class carriage, 
with Cecil wrapped to the chin in sealskin and 
sables, and Ernest in attendance, bound for one of 
the most charming places to visit, for Mrs. Bray- 
burn made a most delightful hostess, and her hus¬ 
band seconded her admirably. 
The Journey was not a long one, and In the cush¬ 
ioned compartment, with every contrivance to 
keep out King Frost, there was Dot much Incon¬ 
venience from cold. 
Mr. Daton, with a most discerning idea of 
what would be expected of him under the cir¬ 
cumstances, leaned back comfortably In his cor¬ 
ner and fell fast asleep; while Cecil, wrapped In 
her furs, looked dreamily out of the window at 
the fair white world through which they were 
speeding, and forgot; altogether the presence of 
her handsome, fair-hatred lover, who, from lfia 
corner opposite, devoured the beautiful, wistful 
face of his lady-love with lfia eyes. 
“Cecil,” he said, at last, in a low tone. Judi¬ 
ciously calculated not to disturb the obliglngsleep- 
er; but low as his voice was, the girl started and 
turned her eyes away from the snow-covered land¬ 
scape with a nervous shudder. “ Why, how you 
started, love,” said he, smiling. “ Were you asleep 
with your eyes open?” 
“ I really think I was,” Cecil answered, a trifle 
pettishly. “ Why did you speak to me, Ernest ?” 
“ Probably because i had something to say,” he 
replied, gaily. “ Shall I say It now, Cecil, or shall 
I let you return to your slumbers ?” 
“ It Is as well to get It over,” she answered, lan¬ 
guidly. 
“ One would think you alluded to a visit to your 
dentist,” he said, lightly. “ I hope it Is not so un¬ 
pleasant as ihat, Cecil?” 
“I hope not,” was che rather ungracious rejoin¬ 
der. “ I am in a very bad temper as it Is.” 
“ Then perhaps l had better defer our confer¬ 
ence,” he said, gently, lie was getting used to 
Cecil’s pretty tyrannies, and had ceased to resent 
them, even If he ever had done so. “ l may hope 
for a more favorable audience some other time.” 
“You shall have It now,”she said, suddenly, 
turning to him with a smile, which made Ernest 
change his seat from one facing her to one beside 
her and take her hand in his. 
“ Thank you,” he said, tenderly. 
And Cecil exclaimed, with a little hurst of re¬ 
morse: 
“ Bow patient you are, Ernest! You make me 
ashamed of my 111-temper.” 
“ Whoever heard of a rose without thorns ?” he 
said, smiling. 
“ There are more thorns than leaves to this one,” 
she said, laughingly. “ Well, what Is this Impor¬ 
tant communication you wish to make ?” 
“ I had a letter from my father this morning,” 
said he, fondling the little gloved hand left In his, 
“ aud he fears, from the state of Ida’s health—not 
to mention my mother’s, which is almost equally 
delicate, that they will not return this next year 
at all.” 
“lam very sorry to hear your mother is so deli¬ 
cate.” answered Cecil, kindly; •• but I have no 
doubt that such a long stay in a warmer climate 
will benefit her greatly. Mr. Edgar writes that 
Mattie. Is quite strong, and 1 have no doubt that 
she will derive equal benefit,” 
“ I hope so,” said Ernest; and there was a short 
silence. 
“ Cecil,” he asked then, with the red blood flush¬ 
ing his cheek. “ when are you going to make me 
the happiest of men ?” 
Cecil started, and her eyes met his with a quick 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
NOV. 27 
look of alarm; then hiding her emotion, she said, 
smiling; 
“ I thought you were the happiest of men.” 
“ But I shall be happier when you are my own, 
Cecil,” he said, eagerly. “When may I put an¬ 
other ring on this dear hand 7 Nay, my dearest, I 
did not mean to startle you. Is the idea such an 
alarming one, Cecil ?” 
“ No—no,” she said hurriedly, turning her face 
from him to hide the sudden pallor which bad 
overspread It, “ it is not that.—hut, Ernest—you— 
are very happy—we. are very happy as we are. 
“ Why, Cecil, what do you mean ? Do you not 
think you will be equally happy as my wife ? Do 
you not think that I will do my best to make your 
life one cloudless sunshine ?” 
“I am sure you will,” Cecil answered, looking 
distressed; “ but Ernest, you must not hurry me, 
I do not want to be married yet. I cannot leave 
Uncle Ilenry so soon.” 
“Uncle Henry," repeated Ernest, “he would 
not wish to stand In the way of your happiness, 
Cecil.” 
“I know that,” she said, petulantly; “but be¬ 
cause he Is so unselfish, Is that any reason why I 
should be selfish V Think how good he has been 
tome, i will not leave him yet. We are both 
young enough to wait a little.” 
“ Cecil,” he said, with a sudden gravity, “ what 
is this ? I know that, before we were engaged you 
told me you did not love me ; but you said you 
were willing to be my wife. Have you changed 
your mind since then ? ” 
“ Changed my mind ?” shesald, wltha ltttle ner¬ 
vous laugh; "No, I have not changed my mind. 
I like you ’’—she turned to him with a very kindly 
light In her lustrous eyes—“I like you a thousand 
times bettor now ihan I did then. No, you need 
not go into raptures,” she added, lightly. “How 
could I help liking you when you are so good to 
me ? but, Ernest, you must give me time. You 
must let me get accustomed to the Idea." 
••But we have been engaged two months,” re¬ 
monstrated Ernest; “and my father Is anxious 
that the marriage should take place soon, and 
hopes that we will go and pay t hem a visit.” 
“lie Is very kind, but,” and Cecil turned quickly 
, io him as she spoke with a pretty, imperative air 
Igr decision—“but it ts quite out of the question 
f&at I should be married while Mattie Is away, so 
- Inat, settles the matter!” 
“ How long is she to remain away ?” said he 
ruefully. 
+ “They will not be home till the Spring.” 
“The spring! When Is the Spring, Cecil ? Does 
that mean April, or May, or June?" 
“It might mean March,’’ she answered, lightly. 
“Shall we leave it an open question, Ernest?” 
“No,” said Ernest, firmly; and when a man 
shows firmness a woman generally gives way. 
“We will say a fortnight after their return.” 
“A fortnight—certainly not!” said Cecil. “A 
month If you like, but. not a day sooner!” 
“Well, be It so," said his lordship. “But I do 
not think you are kind to me, Cecil!” 
“It Is because I am kind to you,” Bhe answered, 
looking at him a little wistfully—-it is because I 
am kind to you that I do not waut to let you be In 
such haste. 1 am not such a desirable possession 
after all! But,” and Cecil started up with a look 
of Intense relief, “here we are at our lourney’s 
end! How lovely alL those frosted trees look! 
Uncle Henry, wake up; we are at our destination 
at last!” 
CHAFTER XXII, 
THE MEETING. 
Mr. Bkaybcrn had driven down himself to meet 
his guests, and was standing on the platform of 
the little country station. When the train stop¬ 
ped, he came forward eag erly to assist Cecil to 
alight. 
“ Here you are!” he said, cheerily, “ Not. quite 
frozen, I hope, Miss Lester. Mr. Daton, I am de¬ 
lighted to see you! That little wife of mine 
prophesied you would not come. Ernest, I knew 
that, under the circumstances, you would not rail 
me.” 
“ Not likely 1” said Mr. Eleston, gaily, while the 
servants collected wraps and dressing-cases, and 
Mr. Brayburn hurried Cecil to the carriage, which 
was watting outside, with an omnibus for the ser¬ 
vants and t he baggage. 
As they turned Into the grounds belonging to 
the estate, Cecil broke Into a little cry of delight 
at the beautiful white, falry-fike scene which lay 
before them. Trees, hedgerows, and grass were 
all covered with the glittering frost; the sun was 
setting in the west, and the red light was shining 
on the beautiful white world. Beyond rose, a floe 
old red brick mansion, stately and Ivy-grown, and 
the last rays of the setting sun were gleaming on 
its many windows, giving It the appearance of a 
house on fire. 
“ How beautiful!” said Cecil, softly, 
And Mr Brayburn looked delighted at the ap¬ 
preciation of his estate, and he bent over her 
kindly. 
“ Yes. It Is a fine old place. But I have heard a 
great deal of the beauty of Lester Hall.” 
“it Is a ruined beauty,” she answered, half 
sadly. “ Uncle Henry wishes to restore It. but I 
do not know. Perhaps—” 
Mr. Bray bum’s was a comparatively modem 
house, with large windows and every modern 
comfort: and the room into which Cecil was led, 
was a large square apartment, which looked very 
Inviting and cosy after the long, cold journey, a 
blazing coal-fire was burning in the wide grate • 
huge fur ruga were scattered over the polished 
oak floor; wide low armchairs and a large round 
table, groaning with, novels and all manner of 
light literature, stood near the fire; wonderful 
old cabinets, full of art-treasures, stood against 
the walls. r i he firelight threw a * uddy glow over 
the room, and over the pretty gipsy-table, with 
Its dainty tea-service, which stood before the 
hearth—on Mrs. Brayburn s graceful figure, seated 
In a low chair beside It, and on a tall, broad-shoul¬ 
dered man, with a great tawny beard, who, stand¬ 
ing with his el bow on the mantelpiece, was talk¬ 
ing to her ladyship In a deep rich voice, which was 
the first sound which met Cecil’s ears as she en¬ 
tered the hall. 
Mrs. Brayburn, an extremely pretty and co¬ 
quettish brunette, rose and fluttered across the 
hall to greet her guests. She was a French-woman, 
and had brought Into her home all the graceful 
vivacity of charm of her. country-women, with a 
Uttio spice of coquetry, which made her all the 
more bewitching. 
“Ah, Cecil, ma belle J” she said, gaily; “not 
quite frozen, I hope. No, I see you are not. What 
a lovely color! A journey on such a cold day 
agrees with you. Mr. Dayton, how good of you 
to come! Ernest, 1 will not thank you. I suppose 
you would have come even without an Invitation.’’ 
“ The temptation would have been a very great 
one,” Bald he, who wa3 no mean performer In the 
art of flirtation, “It Is so long since I had the 
great, pleasure which I enjoy now, that I was get¬ 
ting quite desperate.” 
“ r raiment /” laughed her ladyship, with a 
glance at Cecil, who was removing some of her 
costly wrappings, and looking at them with a 
smile. “ Cecil, you will have some tea ? I think 
you all know Dr. Carewe?” she added, as she 
moved over to the table and began to manipulate 
the pretty cups and saucers. 
Meanwhile Mr. Daton was greeting Lawrence 
Carewe—for the tall man was the doctor—with 
much warmth and cordiality; and, then Cecil, 
turning to him suddenly, but without a word, held 
out her hand with a little smile, In which there 
was an unspoken prayer. Lawrence Carewe hesi¬ 
tated for a moment —only a moment—and the hes¬ 
itation was perceptible to no one but to Cecil her¬ 
self ; then he touched the little hand with his own 
lightly and coldly. The blood rushed into Cecil’s 
face, then she turned very pale, and her hand, as 
he released It, fell heavily to her side ; but she 
turned to Ernest with a sudden gesture of confid¬ 
ing affection. 
“Ernest,” she said, gently, •• can you—will you 
Her voice failed her, but she smiled, and Ernest 
took her hand and pressed It fondly, as he asked 
her “ If she were very tired ?" 
“Are you very tired, Cecil?” said Mrs. Brayburn. 
“ I will give you some tea, or would you prefer to 
go to your room at once ?” 
“ I think, if you will excuse me, I would like that 
best,” Cecil answered; *• 1 am very tired ” 
“Y'ou look so pale,” said Mrs. Brayburn, anxious¬ 
ly. “ Doctor, come and prescribe for Miss Les¬ 
ter.” 
“ I am only tired, and Dr. Carewe could not, pre¬ 
scribe anything better than rest and a cup of tea,” 
said Cecil, hurriedly. 
“ I will take you up myself,” said her ladyship, 
slipping her hand through Cecil’s arm. “ I will 
come back and give you some tea directly, Mr. Da¬ 
ton,” she added, looking back with a smile as they 
passed up the broad stone staircase. 
By-and-by Mrs. Brayburn returned and the 
guests came back from the lake where they had 
been skating. The girls were clustering round 
ihe fire laughing and chatting, while the young 
men were handing cups of tea, and maccaroons 
and cake. 
Ernest was in deep conversation with a beautiful 
blonde, violet Heriot, with eyes as blue as the 
flower after which she was called. He was look¬ 
ing very handsome, and the doctor, as he watched 
him, thought that he was a man likely to take any 
woman’8 fancy, so tall and stralght.witn his frank, 
smlfing blue eyes and his Greek features. Involun¬ 
tarily, Dr. Ca rewe glanced over at bis own Image, 
and met the questioning glance of his own stern 
gray eyes, which were examining his rugged fea¬ 
tures in tho glass. He turned away with an Im¬ 
patient sigh; but as he did so, he met another 
glance from a pair of hazel eyes, belonging to a 
pretty fairy of seventeen, who was not yet “out,” 
but who had been permitted to join the Christmas 
party at her aunt’s, and who was an especial fav¬ 
orite with Lawrence Carewe. She was looking 
pale, he thought, and there was a sorrowful look 
In her eyes which touched film, and he crossed over 
to her side. 
" What Is the matter with you, Miss Tyrrel ?” 
he said, smiling. 1 ‘ Are you very tired, or has any¬ 
thing vexed you?" 
“ 1 think I am tired,” she said, a little sadly. 
“ Dr. Carewe,” she added, “ can you tell me—has 
Miss Lester come? I am so anxious to see her.” 
“ Yes, she arrived this afternoon," he answered, 
gently. “ Why are you so anxious to see her ?” 
“Is she so beautiful?” said Lottie Tyrrel, 
eagerly, 
" She is very beautirut,” he replied, gravely, 
angry with himself for the tremble In his voice as 
he spoke, but In some surprise at the girl’s eager 
face and wistful eyes. “ Tnat is Mr. Ernest Eles¬ 
ton talking to Miss Heriot.” 
“ I know; I have known him a long time,” the 
child said. “ But he has not seen me. Do you 
think he cares for her very much?”—To be con¬ 
tinued. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
The Eden Tableau or Bible Objeot-Teaching- 
A study by Rev. Charles Beecher. Boston: Lee 
& bhenhard. Cloth 13 mo. Price $1.60. 
We submit the following extract from a letter 
received by the publishers concerning this book: 
“Just at this time of thought, there are some 
reasons why * The Eden Tableau’ should be taken 
notice of. 
“1st. The existing schemes of Theology are 
based on the doctrine of the fall or Adam. This 
is true of Catholic, Greek and Prostestant schemes. 
They are as much built on that doctrine as a 
house Is built on its foundation, whether of lock 
or sand. 
“ 2nd. Science by Its developments claims to 
have demolished that doctrine until there is not 
a vestige left. Eminent orthodox leaders, In 
whom great confidence for their learning and piety 
Is placed, it Is understood, admit that Adam and 
Eve were not historic realities hut that the whole 
was as a parable. 
“ 3rd. These things are fermenting and coming 
towards an explosion, perhaps at the next Trien¬ 
nial Congregational Council that will bring on a 
new discussion of the whole subject,* especially 
the question of the Fall of Adam. 
“The Churches cannot stave it off—they must 
define their position! 
“ This book of Rev. Charles Beecher Is In order— 
It Is apropos. For It offera a possible compro¬ 
mise between extremes, and Is perfectly original 
and unhackneyed, being the first time In Church 
history that an attempt has been made to apply 
the law of analogy consistently to t he explanation 
of the Eden Emblems; therefore. It Is a book that 
should excite Interest, and Is In the line of present 
thought. 
anbury -- 
Price, cloth, * 1 ; paper, 60. 
.ee ancl Shepard. 
This Is the title of the genial New England Hu¬ 
morist's fourth volume, which opens with a timely 
bit of political “booming.” In addition to the 
“ Boom” we have a great variety of sptcy effusions, 
having brevity, and, therefore, of course, the soul 
of wit, of decided humor, and dealing with the per¬ 
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Much fun and no little wisdom ts to be found In 
this book, especially If the advice given by the au¬ 
thor In his preface Is followed. 
“ There Is no plot to this book, and, consequent¬ 
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to see how things are going to turn out. Take 
plenty of time to read It. Go through it leisurely 
and get the whole benefit of the novel, but don’t 
attempt to take In the whole of It at once; don't 
dare to read long at It. 4 it. Is not, a tree hand.’ ” 
MAGAZINES FOR NOVEMBER, 
The American Antiquarian.— Contents:—The 
Emblematic Mounds, and the Totem system of 
the Indian Tribes; Relics of Aboriginal Art and 
their Ethnological Value; -Ancient Quartz Work¬ 
ers; Tho Rabbit,and the Grasshoppers; An Otoe 
Myth; On the Alabaster Quarries and Flint Works 
found In Wyandot Cave; Aboriginal use of Cop¬ 
per in War and Peace; The Oriental Department. 
- Evolution; Correspondence; Editorial Notes; 
Gleanings from Magazines; Book Reviews. 
The Idol Montkzdma.—M ontezuma is still the 
great Divinity of the Pueblos, Ills image Is pre¬ 
served and worshipped by the surviving tribes. 
As late as 1MS57, Mr. w. Davis, then United States 
Attorney for New Mexico, was shown this Idol, 
which he describes as follows .- 
“ It resembles nothing upon the earth, in the 
heavens above, or In the sea beneath, it is a 
cylinder shape, nine inches high and nine in diam¬ 
eter. and made of tanned skin. The upper end Is 
closed with skin and the lower end left open. One- 
half of the cylinder Is painted green and the 
other half red. Upon the green side Is fashioned 
the rude resemblance ol a man's face. Two long 
apertures In the skin, in the shape of right-an¬ 
gled triangles, with the bases Inward, are the 
eyes. There Is no nose. A circular piece of 
leather about two Inches below the eyes repre¬ 
sents the mouth. Two similar pieces, one on 
each side, opposite the outer corners or the eyes, 
are Intended for the ears. A small tuft of leather 
and feathers crowns the top. 
“ The three Indians present," he continued, 
“ looked upon it with the greatest veneration. 
They knelt around it In the most devout manner, 
and went through the form of prayer, while one 
of their number sprinkled upon it a white pow¬ 
der."—American Antiquarian. 
Scribner's Monthly.—Contents; The Sower. 
After the painting by Jean-Fi ancols Millet; Peter 
the Great as Ruler and Reformer I; Bordentown and 
the Bonapartes; •• 0 Silver River Flowing to The 
Sea;” Walt Whitman, with portrait; The Secret 
of Second-sight, by an ex-conjuror; Two Singers : 
Tlger-LUy, in Three Parts—Part I; The Thought 
of Aetyauax Beside lulus; Zervlah Hope; The 
Lost Hellas; A Chapter on Tableaux; Jean-Fran¬ 
cois Millet—Peasant and Talnter, III ; "O Tell me 
not of Heavenly HaltsEllhu Vedder; On Two 
Pictures by Vcdder: I. Tbe Young Martyrs. II. 
The Gumma Sibyl; Mr, Gladstone, with portrait 
from a photograph (by permission of Marlon & Co.); 
St. Martin’s Summer; Leonard Woods; Artemus 
Ward; “Pray You, Love, Remember Topics of 
the Time; Home and society; Culture and Pro¬ 
gress ; The World’s Work; Brie a-Brac. 
The present number of Scribner s Is presented In 
a new dress, and contains many fine Illustrations, 
together with Its usual good selections of literary 
matter. 
-- 
A GLANCE BACK ONE HUNDRED YEARS 
one hundred years ago not a pound of coal nor 
a cubic foot of illuminating gas had been burnt in 
the country. No Iron stores were used and no 
contrivances for economizing heat were employed 
until Dr. Fra li Id In invented the ironframed fire¬ 
place, which still bears Ills name. All the cooking 
and warming in town, as well as In the country, 
was done by the aid of a fire klndler on the brick 
hearth or in the brick ovens. Pine knots or tallow 
candles furnished the light for the long winter 
nights and sanded floors supplied the place of ruga 
and carpets. The water used for household pur¬ 
poses was drawn lrom deep wells wltn creaking 
sweeps. No form of pump was used In this coun¬ 
try, so far as we can learn, until after the com¬ 
mencement of the present century. There were 
no rricuon matches in those days, by the aid of 
which a lire could be easily kLndled, and If the Are 
went out upon the hearth over night and the tin¬ 
der was damp, bo that the spark would not catch, 
the alternative remained of wading through the 
snow a mtle or so to borrow a brand of a neighbor. 
Only one room tn any house was warm, unless 
some member of the family was 111; In all the rest 
the temperature was at zero during many nights 
