THE 
RURal NEW-YORKER, 
Slie clasped lier hands, and laid them upon his 
arm. 
“ I want to tell you a story, Felix,” she said— 
“ give me yoiu' attention while I narrate it. Years 
ago there was a girl—young, foolish, and, the 
world said fair. She was vain too of her beauty, 
and expected to achieve great things with It. 
She loved with all her heart some one who was 
more than worthy of her love, and she promised 
tube his wife. But sorrow and misfortune came 
to him, while a wealthy wooer sought her—one 
who offered her wealth and title, houses anti lands 
—and she- -well, [ am ashamed of her, Felix. She 
was vain, and much weaker than a woman; she 
was young too. and not over-wise. She had 
nobility enough, however, to see what was right 
though not to do It. She was tempted by her love 
of luxury and comfort—she was hadl.v advised, 
wrongly influenced; a ml she, weaker, i say again, 
than a woman, gave up her lover—the one man in 
the world whom she loved—and married the 
wealthy suitor. How she sultered no one knows, 
no one can toll. Her marriage turned out to be a 
most, disastrous ouc. She had money, luxury of 
every kind, but she never had one moment of 
happiness—ono moment, of peace, of rest. She 
had outward gaiety, outward brilliancy and 
pleasure; but her life was one round of lamenta¬ 
tion and anxious sorrow. No one knew what she 
suffered; no one knew how she regretted the lost 
true dear love who would have made her life, a 
heaven on earth. After she was married she met 
him again, and—well, he was always cold and 
distant to her. What slie thought and what she 
suffered was known to herself. Then, after long 
.veal's of humiliating servitude, she was alone 
again, and free. What do you think she clld, 
Felix?” 
“ I cannot say, ’ he replied in a low hoarse 
voice. 
“I will tell you. After those long years she 
found that she still loved the dear companion of 
her youth. She said to herself that he had never 
married—perhaps lie still cared for her—and one 
night, when he was sit,ting alone, she went to him 
—as I have come to you knelt by his side—as I 
kneel by yours—and prayed to him—as I pray to 
you—‘Oh, my lost love, my dear love, forgive me, 
and take me to your heart again!’ ” And the love¬ 
ly head drooped until it lay upon his arm. 
He made no answer Just then. Ills whole soul 
was stirred within him—his whole heart touched. 
After a few minutes she raised her face to his, and 
he saw tears upon it. 
"Violet,” he said, "Ido not know what to say 
to you. You have taken me so completely by sur¬ 
prise. l am lost—bewildered. 1 cannot collect 
myself.” 
“ I thought you would say 4 Yes’ to me at once,” 
she returned sadly. “ uh, Felix, have you not 
forgiven me ? Tell me that first. Have you for¬ 
given me V” 
He looked at her thoughtfully, watching the 
firelight gleaming on her golden hair and on her 
rich jewels, 
“Y r es; I have forgiven you. violet—I forgave 
you long ago.” 
“ Quite, or was it only a half forgiveness, Felix ?” 
•‘Quite,” he replied. “1 am sure of it. My 
heart was full or hot anger for many long months, 
but it died away; and then, when I saw that you 
were not happy, 1 forgave you.” 
“ With all your heart, Felix?” 
“ With all my heart,” he answered; and then 
there was silcuce tor a few minutes between them. 
You lot gave me? Then, Felix, why will you 
not take me Into your heart again ?” 
Ills face grew deadly pale—lila hands trembled. 
■Shesaw such deep emotion in his face that her 
own grew pale. 
“ You see but oue side of the question,” he said. 
“ Now listen to me. I loved a girl, Violet—ah, 
heaven, how I loved her! She was the very light 
of my eyes! she was the pulse of my heart! she 
was the very soul of my life—my one priceless 
jewel! She loved me—her fair face brightened 
for me—her sweet eyes rained love and kindness 
on me—her voice made all my music l I had no 
life outside her sweet life I Heaven forgive me, l 
worshipped her—no man ever worshipped a. woman 
so madly, so blindly, or so well! if at any time 
my poor life would have served her, I would have 
given it. it at any time 1 could have died for her, 
i would have died. Anti she was kind to me. It 
drives me mad even now. when 1 remember that 
she once placed her arms arouud my neck and 
promised to be my wile. Then over the heaven of 
my content what clouds camel t was working— 
as man seldom works-to make a homo for my dar¬ 
ling and place her in It. l was seeking every pic¬ 
ture, every ornament that 1 thought would bcau- 
tlly a home, for oue who would herself adorn it 
most. What happened? A wealthier lover came— 
not, mind you, one who loved her more, not one 
whom she could love—a man, to say the best of 
him, coarse of soul and hard of heart; he could 
not even appreciate the exquisite loveliness of my 
love. He held out Ids hands to her, and they were 
Oiled with gold; he ottered her title, money, jew¬ 
els—ever) thing' that women love. He laughed to 
scorn the notion mat any tie to me bound her. 
‘ leave him,' he said *lie is poor, come to me—I 
am rich.’ What did sire do, this love of mine, who 
held my heart in her hands?” 
The beautiful bead drooped lower and lower. 
"Have pity on me, Felix,” sUe cried—“have 
pity !" 
I do not mean to be hard; 1 am only telling the 
truth. This is my versluu of the story, violet. 
What did she do ? Old the first noble instincts of 
true womanhood come to her ? Did she turn with 
fidelity to me v No. .She flung my love back In my 
face, she trampled my life under her feel, and she 
crushed my heart in her hands-she jilted me! 
Nay, do not shrink front the word, violet ; it is the 
only one. She jilted me -left me to be tho subject 
of men's laughter and women's jeers-lea me a 
burning fire of anguish t hat nothing could slacken 
or cool—left me with my life ruined.” 
Again she raised her hands to him, and cried— 
“ Have pity on me ! You are terribly hard.” 
•• Nay, I am hut just, violet. And then this 
woman who had left me to laughter and ruin 
came to me with a smile, and asked me to take 
her into my heart again. The past, which had 
been one long agony to me. was to be condoned 
by a stnlle, the torture of years to be soothed by a 
few kind words I” 
He stopped ; the passion of his own words mas¬ 
tered him. 
" You said you had forgiven me, dear,” and vio¬ 
lets hands touched his clustering hair, 
“ Yea ; 1 have forgiven you. Listen to me, Vio¬ 
let. she came to me again, this woman who had 
betrayed me, with the dead man's spoils In her 
hand. She came to me blight with jewels, radiant 
with their magnificence Ills wealth had provided 
for her—the wealth for which she lert me. She 
held out her hands laden with treasures; she 
brought to me the spoils her perfidy and falsehood 
had won for her. I should be less than a man If I 
shared those spoils with her—should I not, violet? 
When you left me, and men laughed because you 
had left me for money, my very sorrow had a dig¬ 
nity lu It. What should 1 be now, even in your 
eyes. If I took you back to my heart with the same 
money that your falsehood had won ? I should be 
less than a man.” 
“ I cannot understand you,” she said, piteously. 
In his passion he seemed to rise to a hlght which 
that weak soul could not reach; hut the pitiful 
pleading voice touched him and made him gentle 
again. He looked down Into the lovely face. 
“ violet, you will understand tills. Suppose that 
when you loved me most 1 had left you and had 
married a rich woman—a woman whom I did not 
love, but married solely because she was rich— 
that she died after a few years, and I came back 
to you with her money in my hands, and asked you 
to share if—would you do so ?” 
“ Yes, I think I should, Felix.” 
•• Perhaps I might have expected such an answer 
from you. I would not act in such a fashion. I 
would ho less than a man now to rake dead Sir 
Owen’s gold, and with It you. 
She looked at him with a half-bewidlered ah-, 
yet still seemed to think that she could persuade 
and soften him by sweet, words. 
“ I have been so unhappy without you, Felix,” 
she murmured. “ You do not know all; it. seemed 
to me as though I had lost t he half of my soul 
when I lost you—It. is not wrong to say so to you 
now. I was very unhappy. Felix. I found out 
soon afterwards that, I never could he happy 
without you.” 
He made no answer, and she took courage. She 
laid her face on his arm. The wa ves of golden hair 
fell over his hands. 
“ Do forgive me, Felix,” she said. “ I was so 
young, and so thoughtless. I did not understand.” 
so she knelt, while the firelight played over her, 
and the face of Felix Lonsdale was turned from 
her. 
"I am sorry for It all, Felix,” tho sweet voice 
went on—“so very sorry. You see, dear, there 
were great excuses tor me, though they do not 
seem great to you. 1 was very vain—every one 
flattered and praised me, and I was led away. I 
thought my beauty was great enough to merit any 
station. Then. Felix, I was so young—oh, my 
dear, forgive me, I was so young—and foolish! I 
have repented of it, ever since. I love you now just 
as much as when we stood in the moonlight to¬ 
gether.” 
lie raised Uer face and looked Into it. It was 
beautiful enough to tempt any man to forego 
houor. He looked Into the depths of the violet 
eyes. 
“ You are sorry for it, violet,” he said—" really 
and truly sorry?” 
"Yes; I am indeed, Felix;” and her hands were 
clasped round his own. " I am, dear—my life has 
been all regret.” 
“ Answer me truly—If the time came over again, 
would you act in the same manner?” 
The soft eyes wavered half a moment, and then 
fell. 
“■ 1 cannot tell; It cannot come over again. That 
Is a strange question. Answer me one—truly, 
Felix. Do you love me ?” 
She saw the sudden gleam of passion light in his 
face and deepen In his eye. 
" Do i love you? Yes. Heaven help me, I do! 
It' I did not love you, 1 should not suffer.” 
“You are quite sure that you have not met any 
one since whom you liked ever so little, Felix?” 
“No,” he answered; “when a man has loved a 
woman like you, violet. It Is not easy to forget 
her.” 
“ Then, FeiLx, if you love me and I love you, why 
should we not. bo happy v Wiial stands between 
us?” 
" My own honor.” he replied—“my dignity as a 
man, iny pride as it gentleman, if you were pen¬ 
niless, violet, r would kneel to you, I vow, and 
pray you to be my wife.” 
“ What, stands between us. Felix,” she asked 
again. 
44 Your dead husband’s gold—the gold for whlcn 
you broke your plighted troth and left me. You 
say. Violet, that you were young and thoughtless 
when you sinned, that you hardly realized all you 
were doing, l believe that. Suppose now I be¬ 
lieved lu you, and again let myself drift upon the 
golden sea of hope and love. Some wealthier 
suitor might come—an earl this time—and you 
would leave me once more.” 
44 No, never again,” she cried, clinging to him— 
“ never again !” 
(7b be continued.) 
Camphor Balls. Clarify a pound of mutton 
suet and add to it three pounds of spermaceti, two 
of white wax. and one of gum camphor cui Into 
very small pieces. Melt these together with gen¬ 
tle heat, and stir until the camphor Is dissolved, 
then pour it into molds. Frequent applications of 
tills emollient will prevent disagreeable roughness 
of t he hands, should they become chapped, it most 
effectual but slightly inconvenient way of healing 
them is to wrap them in wet cloths with an out¬ 
side bandage of flannel, first making a free appli¬ 
cation of the camphor balls. This treatment will 
soften and whiten the roughest skin, and it is also 
an excellent application In chronic rliemnatism. 
-- 
VOICES OF THE NIGHT. 
AV hen bed-time comes and curtains fall. 
And round I go the doors to lock, 
Ero lamps go out my wife doth call, 
“ Remember, dear, to wind the clock !" 
When boots are off, and for the day 
All irksome cares seem put to rout, 
f hear wife’s voice from dreamland say, 
“ Be sure you put the kitten out!” 
When stretched between the sheets I lie. 
And heavy lids have ceased to wink. 
From trundle-bed there comes a cry, 
“ I want a dwink ! I want a dwink !” 
Chicago tribune. 
-♦-*■♦-- 
RECENT LITERATURE. 
Spiritual Smuts, with Music tor rho Church 
urn Choir. Key. Chas. S. Robinson. D. D. New 
\ ork Sorthner & Co. Price, in cloth. $1.50; in Ameri¬ 
can gros-grain silk, 
This is a choice collection -or songs for religious 
worship, judiciously classified and unusually well 
indexed. The type and paper are excellent; and the 
silk binding makes a most beautiful as ivell as a 
unique cover. The book meets a long-felt want in 
the churches, viz: a work that shall he equally good 
for choir use or congregational praise. There are 
nearly eleven hundred hymns In the collection, 
very fully Indexed, and an unusual number of 
tunes. The. author has shown a wise discrimina¬ 
tion in his omissions as well as In his Insertions. 
All the old favorites are to be found, as well as 
newer pieces of undoubted met 11. Altogether the 
work is beyond peradventure the best collection of 
hymns ever offered for church service. 
- > ♦ ♦- 
MAGAZINES. 
Sojiuay afternoon for April has the follow¬ 
ing table of contents: My Cup Runneth Over, 
Lucy La room; The Mormons, T. L. Rogers; Chris¬ 
tianity and the State, Oliver Johnson; Calvin the 
Sinner, V., Vi., vn„ Josephine R. Baker; Why? 
Elaine Goodule: The Tenement House Question, 
Helen Campbell; The outer Gate, E. C. Gardner; 
Provided For, Elizabeth A. S. Chester; Dives and 
the Angel, Elizabeth Akers Allen; The Howgate 
Scheme of Arctic Discovery, 8. J. Douglass; Jack, 
Margaret II. Eckerson; A New Chapter on w ages, 
D. W. R.; I’a Ussy the Potter, Isabella T. Hopkins; 
Did God make that Alan in Vain? Henry P. God¬ 
dard; What the Toucan said to the Macaw, Lizzie 
\V. Charupney; The Still Hour; Editor's Table- 
Mint, Anise and Cummin: college Frauds; Our 
Laws and our Law Makers. Literature. 
Ocr Laws and oik Law Makers.— The close of 
the f’nrty-Qlth Congress suggests a few sober retiee- 
tlonsfupon t he quality of current legislation. Proba¬ 
bly the late but not much lamented national legis¬ 
lature was no worse than many of Its predecessors: 
hut when we consider the nature of the enter¬ 
prises to which It has devoted the larger part of 
its time and energies, the prospect, of wise and 
safe legislation is not so bright, as we could wish. 
It is a fact which no member of Congress would 
think of denying that the main occupation of the 
last session has been politics and not law-making. 
In other words the principal Concern of the great 
majority of both parties has becu to prepare for 
carrying future elections rather than to attend lo 
the present business of the government. The 
main question oi the average Senator or Represen¬ 
tative is "How can l fnflict the most injury upon 
the other party and make the most capital lor my 
own ?” 
work. They ought to he, as they always have 
been, educators of the people In the great con¬ 
cerns of government; but, better than this, they 
ought lo lie strengthening the bond that is suffer¬ 
ing just uoav a severe strain—the bond that, unites 
In one community of Interest rich and poor, 
learned and ignorant.. By preventing the segre¬ 
gation of classes in our society, by keeping the 
people or all grades In fellowship and sympathy, 
the church may lurntsh a medium for the com¬ 
munication not only of kindly feelings but also 
of intelligence irom one class to another. To the 
churches themselves, as well as to the nation, 
this kind of work Is of vital import.) nee. 
By the faithful use of all these means we may 
trust that the average intelligence and morality 
of the whole people will be gradually increased, 
and that thus our legislatures will grow wiser, 
and oar laws more just. The process will be slow’, 
and there wll] be need of faith and patience, but 
there Is no reason for despair.— Xunduy Afternoon 
for April, 
A Library for the People.—I n another column 
win be found the advertisement of H. W, Derby & 
Co., of Columbus, O., the proprietors of the People’s 
Library. The collection of the People’s Library is 
a happy thought. The books are judiciously se¬ 
lected and are printed and bound in the best style, 
and the appearance of the whole collection of one 
hundred volumes is at once pleasing and attrac¬ 
tive. The works of the best known and most 
popular writers have been carefully examined, and 
some of their choicest productions have thus been 
selected for a place in the People’s Library, 
Schools, colleges, families, lodges and societies 
of all kinds will find the People's Library a wise 
and economical expenditure oi the small sum requi¬ 
site to obtain it. Purchases are moat easily effect¬ 
ed by means.of the co-operative plan. A club of 
twenty persons, for instance, by an Individual 
payment of Jo. can secure the Library, aud for the 
payment of this small sum each member has the 
use of one hundred dollars’ worth of books. A plan 
more simple and feasible can scarcely be devised. 
Every rural district by co-operation may establish 
in its midst a choice library. The larger the mem¬ 
bership of the club or society, the less the expense 
to members, aud the more extended the usefulness 
of the library. 
Contents of Herald of Healtii, for April, 
iAT.—G eneral Articles — Physiological and Sani¬ 
tary Marriages and Parentage, by the Editor; A 
Uygelan Farm Home, by the Editor; Disease 
Germs. Our Dessert Table —His Temperance 
Pledge — An M. D’s Love Poem: Topics of the 
month —James Barton concerning the Health 
Habits of Bayard Taylor; Mr. Gladstone's Habits 
—W illiam Howict; Mr. Alcott’s Summer School of 
Philosophy-Rev. e. h. Brigham; Letter to the 
Editor; Studies in Hygiene for Women — Health- 
fulness of Bread made from Unbolted Wheat- 
meal; Bread from Minnesota Flour; Meat for 
Children;Oatmeal Crackers; Society and Solitude; 
Paint and Paper for Houses; A Respiratory Vail; 
Physical Deterioration of New-Englanders; Cur¬ 
rent. Literature — Health Foods. 
Paint and Paper for Hooses.— In another part 
of this magazine we have given some general 
directions for building a healthful farm-house. We 
should like to add a few words applicable to any 
house, on the subject of paint and paper. In the 
first place, all the i>alnted wood-work should be 
varnished; in this way the deleterious Ingredients 
of the paint are rendered harmless, and the clean¬ 
ing Is much more easily accomplished. In regard 
to paper, it may be said that all rough papers 
should bo avoided, because they collect, absorb 
and retain too much dust . All papers containing 
arsenic or Paris-green in their coloring should be 
avoided. The smoother the surface of the paper 
the better. Whenever rooms are to be repapered, 
all the olrVvapor should be removed.— Hernia, or 
Health tor .1 pi'll. 
It must be remembered that this Is a representa¬ 
tive government, and that the people are likely to 
choose legislators who fairly represent them. If 
they are Ignorant and brutal, theLr ignorance and 
brutality will find voice at Washington, and in Hie 
State Capitols. And by the rapid immigration of 
great masses of ignorant Europeans and the sud¬ 
den admission to the suffrage of some minions of 
ignorant negroes, the average intelligence ot our 
voters has been greatly lowered. The percentage 
of the wholly Illiterate in the voting population is 
much larger than it was fifty years ago. of course 
the result of tills change will appear lu all the cur¬ 
rent, legislation and administration. The stream 
will not rise higher than Its fountain, aud the peo¬ 
ple are the source from which political morality as 
welt as political power Is derived. 
in view of these facts the only adequate reme¬ 
dies that suggest themselves arc these: a more 
self-denying devotion of educated men to public 
affairs, and a more thorough education ot the 
people. 
The educated classes ought to have more Influ¬ 
ence in public affairs than they now have; though 
they are in a minority the power which their train¬ 
ing gives them can be wielded with great effect it 
they will only put themselves in contact with the 
people, and. divesting themselves of the scorn ot 
ignorance, work patiently for the enlighte nme nt 
of their fellow-citizens. In such service »s tills 
they will encounter no end of discouragements : 
but tiffs Is the kind of service to which patriotism, 
and Christianity unite lu summoning t hem, and 
the urgency ortho summons can hardly be over¬ 
stated. The college instructors will do well to 
teuct i.helr young men political science; but they 
will do better It by precept aud example the) teach 
t hem the supreme obligations ol citizenship, and 
so train them that they shall seek to carry fiito 
politics not, on'.y the learning that they have 
gained, but sound moral principles and patriotic 
sentiments. 
Not only by tho participation or educated men 
in political affairs, but also by vigorously prosecu¬ 
ting the work of elementary Instruction In the 
common schools, the people must be educated. 
The churches, too, have something to do in this 
Scribner’s Magazine tor April, Is a most attrac¬ 
tive number, ns will be seen by the following table 
of contents: Ac tore and Actresses of New York, il¬ 
lustrated. j. Brander Matthews; Haworth’s, vi„ 
Illustrated, Frances Hodgson Burnett; in a Snall- 
ery, illustrated, Ernest Ingersoll; Holy Russia, 
Edna Dean Proctor; The Stickeen River and Its 
Glaciers, Illustrated, W. IT. Bell; Anemone, Elaine 
uoodale; Admonition, Augusta Moore; Falcon- 
berg (conclusion), Iljalmar Hjorth Boyesen; The 
New Moon, Andrew B. Saxton; A Trip to a Politi¬ 
cal Convention; John Ericsson, Illustrated. Wil¬ 
liam c. Church; The Tendency of Modern Thought 
as seen In Romanism and Kaiionallsm, C. c. 
Tiffany; Halr-wltted Guttorm, Kristoier Jauson; 
Henry liergh and his Work, illustrated, C. C. Buel: 
The Portrait, David 8. Foster; Frauletn, Adeline 
Trait,on; The Token, Richard Henry Stoddar d 
The Measure of a Man, illustrated, William Page; 
A Canticle of Spring, Mary E. Bradley; Depart¬ 
ments. 
Stone rt aning Machine-—A machine for plan¬ 
ing graulte and other hard stones has been brought 
out that promises to prove of value lu reducing the 
cost of preparing building stones. It consists of ail 
oblong frame of iron, supported at the corners, and 
carrying a movable platen, somewhat alter the 
manner or iron-planing machines. On lids ts 
placed a strong head-piece or tool-holder, and by 
means of a system of long pulleys and correspond¬ 
ing belts, power may lie brought to the tool what¬ 
ever its position during the work. The block of 
granite to be planed is placed an a hand-truck 
and roiled under the machine and raised by means 
of jack r serews t.o the proper level for the work. The 
revolution of the cutting tool planes down tiie stone 
at about the pace of the iron planers, and per¬ 
forms the work in a manner iully equal to hand 
labor. The tool is fed to the work by band, one 
man being sufficient for all the work .—Scribner for 
April. 
-- 
Tn k hair of a mummy examined by Mr. Frank 
Buckland, Hie English naturalist, was found to be 
• banged' In the way common to modern youn 
ladles. Then they want to tell us the girls of the 
present day are more frivolous thau their ances¬ 
tors 1 
