Summerside Journal -- 1868-06-04 -- Page 1

$

DEVOTEDTOLITERATURE, SCIENCE, COMMERCE, AGRICULTURE, AND NEWS.

Vol. 3.

Summerside, Prince Edward Island, Thursday, June 4, 1868.

; No- 35.

THE

Summerside Journal,
is PRINTED D PUBLISHED EVERY
THU AY EVENING,
JOSEPH BERTRAM,

aris OFFICE, CENTRAL STREET.

TERMS:
1 copy for one year, in advance, 6s. 3d,
“a “ half advance, 7s. Gd.
atthe end of year 9s.

“ “

Persons getting up ctuns of ren Subscribers

will be entitled to the Journat for one year.

ADVERTISEMENTS

inserted at moderate rates and in good style.

Sraciar AGREEMENTS
reasonable terms for a whole, a half, or quar-
ser column, or by the year.

JOB PRINTING

of every description, performed with neatness
and despatch, and at moderate rates,
at the Journay Office.

Almanac for June, 1868,
MUON'S PHASES, i
Full Moon, 5th day, 2h 42m. mor.bear’g Rast.
Yanst Qtr., 18th day, 6h. 1m., mor.bear'y Hust.
New Moon, 20th day,10h 8&m., mor.b. South
First Qtr.27th day, 1h. 87m., mor, below han.

sun sun's ea
ql | Fs | SUN fast dee, |Moon Bs
ale : Tisesjsets (clock north) sets on
{ [bh mjh mj ms] jhm|hm
1;\Mo. 4 17)7 87| 1 24:28 8) 2 31/15 20
2'tue! 17| 8] 2 15/22 15] 33) at
BlWed! 16, 89 2 28) 3 36] 28
4ITha| 16} 40) 1 55|22 80] rises, 24
H| Pri 16! 41! 1 44:22 36) 7 Ht 26
GjSat 15| 42] 1 84/22 43) 8 45 27
Tsun 14 14/7 42] 3 37/22 45) 9 33/15 28
8Mo ;} 14 438] 8 40.22 64/10 1¢ 2)
9/Tue | 14| 44] 8 42/17 47/10 51, 30
10}Wed} 14) 45) 3 4518 O11 24) 381
11) Tho 14| 45] 8 48/18 Sith a8 32
12] Fri 13; 46) 3 0018 53! morn) 33
13'Sat. j4 13} 46) 3 52)19 15) 0 20 38
iilSun | 13/7 47] 8 52/19 86) 0 5015 34
15\Mo.! 13| 47) 8 O8llY 5B] 1 211 Bt
16\Tue | 13 47| 3 4:|20 19} 2 17] 31
17/Wed! 13) 48 4 210) 85
is|Thu!l 13) 49 317) 36
19) Fri 13] 49 3 50) 36
20]/Sat | 13} 49] sets| 36
2tisun |4 13/7 60 y 8 44/16 87
22 Mo 14! 50) 3 38/22 23] 4 491 37
23)'Tue 14 2 43] 7 62) 36
24]Wed] 16 2) 8 dl Bo
26\Thu} 16 22)10 6) 34
26) Fri 16. 4i;morm} 34
27|Sat 17 00 6 Np
2slsun '4 17 16) 0 69,15 32
29) Mo 17 12; 0 57} = 32
30/Tue 18 9 1 40 32
Summerside Markets.
June 4.
Oats per bush - - - - 3s 6d
Barley per bush - - Gs a bs dil
Potatoes per bush - 3s
Turnips per bush 1s 3c

Is 3a lsdd
oda Lod
9d a 10d

8d
6da 7

Butter per lb by Tub --
Lard per 1b
Tallow per lb.
Eggs per doz -

Beef perlb ------ ---
Mutton per Ib ----- Gr Sd add
Pork per lb by carcass oo Sad a Bil
Flour per bbl - - -- > - -- Siw a 80s
Oatinenl! per cwt. - ---- <-> 3°75 - 18s a 20s
Hay per Ton -- 90s a 100+
Straw per cwt “= 4s
Pine Boards - == 10s

-- 4s abs

Spruce Boards -

Charlottetown Markets.
June 4, 1868.
Beef (small) - - - - Ta 8il
Do, by quarter - be - Bda bd
Mutton - be :- : 4d ae
b. - - - e
Vo. by tub - - - Sdn 18d
Cheese - - - - 6da 7d
Tallow - - - - Oda 10d

fda lid
Sdn 3Ad
208 8 228

Sda dd

Lard
Flour Ib.
Oatmeal 100 1b.

Kegs : . 3 ag dda 3 Agent at Charlottetown.
Potatoes * ie vf ch ded Ae 5a Forms of Application can be had by apply-
EVs) by @ u : 6s wn ing to Mr. J. Bertram, Journal Otlice, Sum-
Barley 2 y 0 5 2. @.7 | Merside.
vo : ‘ is = abs oN Charlottetown, June 20, 18¢
pay z : : - . ay ee
Tee ae aou| WILLIAM M. HOWE,
Wie bd af}| Attorney-at-Law and Notary
ue ’ bc ef .

— a Public.

¢, nay (l §, | SUMMERSIDE... awe P. EL Istann

Business

BANK OF PRI
Corner of Queen § Water Sts., Charlottetown
President—Hon. Danize Brenan.
Cashier—Wittiam Cunpaty, Esquire.
Discount Days—Mondays & Thursdays.
Hours of Business—Fom 10 a.m. tol p.m

from 2 p.m to 4 p.m

UNI BANK,

Grofton St., Queen's Square, Charlottetown
President—Cranves PALMER, Esquire.
Cashier—James Anperson, Esquire.

Viscount Days— Wednesdays & Saturdays

Hours of Business—From 10 a.m to 1pm.
from 2 p.m to 4p m
~~ SUMMERSIDE BANK.
Central Street, Summerside, P. Island.
President—Hon. Joun R. Ganpinen,
Cashier—E. L. Lyptarp, Esquire
Discount Days—Tuesdays and Fridays.
Notes for Discount mus'
o'clock on Discount days.
Hours of Business—10 a. m., to 1 p.m
from 2 p. m,, to 4 p-

DR. PRIC

Physician & Surgeon,

Ovricr—At the Summenstns Drug Store

next door to Bank, Central Street

SUMMERSIDE, P. B. ISLAND

October 12, 1805.

KITSON CASEY, MD,,
Physician {Surgeon & Accouchew
formerly Assistant Surgeon in the U.
Navy, offers his protessional services
veople of Summerside and vicinity.
be consulted athis office, over the Store o'
Messrs Green & Schurman, in Sammerside
June{13, 1867, tf

may be made on

1 EDWARD ISLAND

t bein before 11

8.
to the
He can

Business GQards,

R.& W. T. HUNT,

Commission Merchants,
GENERAL AGENTS AND
AUCTIONEERS.

SALESROOM AND OFFICE

«Head of Queen's Wharf:

Summerside, P. E. Island
April 2, 1868 9 ly

WILLIAM BEAIRSTO,

Auctioneer & General Agent,

WATER STREET,
Summerside, ---------------- P. E.. Island.

“CARVELL BROTIIERS,
AUCTIONEERS,
Commission Merchants
And General Agents,

BANK BUILDING, QUEEN STREET.
Charlottetown, - PE. Island

WILLIAM DODD,

Commission Merchant,
And Auctioneer,

QUEEN SQUARE,
CIARLOTTETOWN--- P. E. ISLAND

JABEZ HUDSON,
Authorized Auctioneer,
GENERAL AGENT, &e.,
TRYON, dogg Od &:

June 27, 1867,

CO. L. RICHARDS,

Importer and Wholesale Dealer in
British & KorcignGroceries.
1, Head North Wharf,

ST. JOIN, NEW BRUNSWICK.
Dee. 6, 1867, ly

J. H. ALLEN,
Commission Merchant,

And Dealer in Lrovisions, &e,
MARKIOT STREET,
St, John, N. B.
b@ Gives personal attention to the Sale

and Purchase of every description of Goods.
May 9, 1867.

HANFORD BROTILERS,

Successors to Thomas Hanford,

Commission Merchants

And General Agents,
11 NORTH MARKET WHARF,
ST. JOHN, N, B.,

Chas. U. Hanford .......... Fred.$.Hanford,
Jun. 21, 186

James Greenough,

FLOUR
Commission Merchant.

No 47 Commercial Street

Corner of Clinton Street -- - -- BOSTO

“North British and : Mercantile
INSURANCH COMPANY.
FIRE AND LIFE.

Established 1809.

TWO MILLIONS,
HEAD OFFICES:
EDINBURGH & LONDON.

G. W. DsBLOIS,

CAPITAL: Sterling.

THOMAS KELLY
Barrister - at - Law

AND

NOTARY PUBLIC, &e.
SUMMERSIDE, - - P. E. ISLAND.
aug. 9, 1866 a

(opposite the Store of Wm. T. Hunt & Co.)

Commission Merchant,

Business Gards,

Temperance House,

NE Subscriber has opened a House on the
corner of Water and North Street, nearly
opposite Holman’s Wharf, Summerside, where
permanent and transient boarders can be ac-
commodated on reasopable terms.
The House will TpPt open to accommo-
date passengers in thd Steamer.

In addition to the above he has opened an
EATING SALOON,
where Luncheons and Temperance Drinks

can be had at any time.

JOHN B. SCHURMAN,

Summerside, April 9, 1868.

Temperance Hotel,

GRANAILLE STREET,

UMMBERSIDE, P. FE. I.,

er, Proprietor.
Permanent and Transient Boarders will find
good accommodation at the above Hotel.
(jood stabling, and a careful Hostler always
in attendance.
This Hotel willalways be kept open on the
nights in which the Steamer arrives and
leaves, for the accommodation of travellers
Sunimerside, March 12, 1868.—3m

CRAWFORD’S HOTEL,
No. 9. King Square, St. John, N- B,

Permanent and transient Boarders accom-
modated on reasonable terms,

8s
James

=

In connection with the above the subscribers
have opened a
First Class Grocery Store

where they will keep constantly on band,

Flour, Corn Meal, Provisions, Tea, Sugar,

Molasses, and all articles usually kept ina

Grocery Store.

J. CRAWFORD & SON.
May 80. 1867.—ly

Commercial Hotel,
NEW ARRANGEMENT!

Coach bare Paid.

N FUTURE the Coacu Fare of all travel-
lers from the Railway Station and Steam-
boat Landings in this City to the COMMER-
CIAL HOTEL, King Street, who make their
stay one day or upward, WiLL BE PAL by the
Proprietor.

FARE AT THE HOTEL:

TRANSIENT.

One Day, --- -- §1 00
One Week, - --- 500
PERMANENT.

Per Week, ------ $3 25 to $450

The HOTEL is situated onthe best business
street in the city, and nearly opposite the
Waverry. Itis handsomely fitted up and
calculated to accommodate seme fifty persons
very comfortably.

D. P. HOWE, Proprietor.
St. John, N. B., Nov. 7, 1867 ly

“FOUNTAIN HOUSE,’

CENTRAL STREET.

SUMMERSIDE!

TPMIE subscriber most respectfully returns
his thanks to the public who so liberally
patronized him heretofore in the * Union
louse,” and wishes to inform them that he
has again opened up, next door to his old
stand, a es)

Boarding House & Bar.
Having plenty of yard room, and excellent
and commodious STABLING, he is prepared
to make all comfortable who may patronize
the * FOUNTAIN HOUSE,”

DAVID GRADY.
tf

Fountain THouse,
Summerside, Feb. 27,

~ ROCKLIN HOUSE,
{Kent Street, Charlottetown,
SIMON D. FRASER, PROPRIETOR.

2
1868. §

Permanent and Transient Boarders will
find the above House to give satisfaction.
Chitown, June 18, 1867,

- Hountain House Hotel.
King Square, (North Side,)
ST. JOHN, N. B.

The Subscriber having leased the above
Hotel, and refitted tiie same, is now prepared
to accommodate ‘Transient and Permanent
Boarders, and trusts by attention-to meet &
share of public patronage. ;
Having also leased the commodious Stable
attached, and secured the services of a careful
Hostler, who will be in attendance at all
hours, travellers will be sure to get satisfac-
tion at lowest rates.
JAMES W. THOMSON,
Proprictor.
St. John, N. B., July 4, 1867.—ly

“Co-Partnership Notice.

mt
T CO-PARTNEI
and ATTORNIES-AT-LAW,
name, style and firm of
ALLEY & DAVIES
OFFICE,—O'HALLORAN’S BUILDING,
Great Grones STREET.
GEORGE ALLEY,
LOUIS IL. DAVIES.
Charlottetown, Oct . 18, 1867. oct 24.

under the

; THOMAS FRIZZEL,

:‘'Boot and Shoe Maker,
WATER STREET,

opposite Green & Schurman’s Store.

for sale cheap,
ly

stantly on hand, and f
Summerside, June 6, 1867

Has Removed His Resi to the House

(lately occupied by Mr’McKinlay)

next to Thomas Hunt's, Esq, St Eleanor’s.
He may be consulted every forenoon at the
Drug Store of W. Ty. HUNT & Co. , Summer
side. :

St. Eleanor’s, May 18, 1868.

f

IB Subseribers have this day entered into
HIP as BARKISTENS

Boots and Shoes of a superior quality con-

Summer is the Time to sccure

PHOTOGRAPHS.

TPVLE subscriber having increased facilities
and an excellant light, is well prepared
to furnish good pictures.
PHOTOGRAPHS PME RROTYPES, and
AMBROTYPES madejto please, at the short-
est notice, and lowest prices.
Call and see specimens hanging at the door
CHARLES CLARK.
Summerside, April 2, 1868.
Remember Clark's Saloon, St. Stephen Street

ae : tes
W.B. Dawson’s Estate.
TEAUE Subscribers offer at PRIVATE SALE, all
ie Stock of LEATHER now finished and in
course of manufuctire, atthe CITY TANNERY,
consisting in the whole of

2,0) sidesof OLE LEATH
2400 sidesof UPPER LEAT ;

ides of MARNE LEQTILER,
730 CALF KIN.
Part of this Stock is now ready Yor Sale, and the

romalnder is in course of on tien, and will be
ready for sale aa manufactured during the winter,
The attention of purchasers is called to this
advertisement. as this Stock must be disposed of
as speedily as possible,
THOMAS DAWSON,
RICHARD HEARTZ,
THOMAS ALLEY,

Charlottetown. Nov. U1, 1867,--tf

ER,

HER

Rraatecs.

nl

PORTRY.

THE ORIMEA.

“ Give usa song,'! the soldier eried,
The outer trenches guarding,

When the heated guns of the camp allied
Grew weary of bombarding.

The dark Redan, in silent scoff,
Lay grim and threatening under.
Au the twany mound of the Malakoff
No longer belched its thunder.

* Give us a song,’’ the guardsman say,
We storm the forts to-morrow ;
Sing while we may, another day
Will bring enough of sorrow,

They lay along the battery's side,
Below the smoking cannon;

Brave heurts trom Severn and from Clyde,
And from the banks of Shannon !

They sang of love and not of fame,
Forgot was Briton’s glor

Each heart recalled a different name,
Butall sang Aunie Luurie!

Voice after voice caught up the song,
Until its tender passion

Rose, like an anthem rich and strong,
‘Their battle-eve confession.

Beyond, the darkening ocean burned
The bloody sunset embers ;

Audshe Grimean valleys learned
How Enylish love semembers-

And once again the fires of hell
Raiued on the Russian quarters—
With sereain of shot and burst of shell,

And bellowing of the mortars !

An Irish Nora’s eyes are dim,
For a singer dumb wud gory,
An English Mary mourns for him
Who sung of Annie Laurie |

Ah! soldiers to your honored rest,
Your love and ylory bearing ;
The bravest are the tenderest,
‘The loving ure the daring.
Bararp Tayasor,

«

Select

THE LAST HOUR.

BY W. B. BATEMAN,
‘«Trisdone!” exclaimed Eustache Arral,
casting aside the implement he had been
using, and holding a small screw to the
shaded lamp—‘: it is done, the toil of a lite
is accomplished, the labor of sleepless
nights and fevered days is complete, and
now for happiness—kiss me Benedetta !”
A dark-haired woman, whose tall figure,
and pale but spotless brow still bore the
stamp of more than ordinary beauty, in-
stantly approached the speaker, and wound
her arms caressingly around him, A boy
too, in the first flush of youth, pressed
tondly between his knees, ‘They were
his wife and son, and he strained them to
his heart with triumphant pride. ‘There
was something in their faces, lighted as
they were with long forgotten smiles, that
seemed to sp ot a loftier birth and
prouder sphere than the position they then
filled, tor poverty reigned around in many
a dreary shape. The apartment was a
small and low garret in the neighborhood
ofthe Pont Neut. The seanty turniture
presented only the most indispensable
necessaries of household economy; the
slated Hoor, the decaying walls, the damp
roof darkened by the spider's loom, all
spoke of adire struggle between humanity
and want.

There was wretchedness around, but
there was happiness within !

“Yes;” he said, ‘*heru is the talisman
that shall make our lives henceforth a
golden dream of luxury. No more ot the
gaunt spectre, Famine-—no more laequey-
ing in the footsteps of the great—but /
shall be independent of all, and you, my
Benedetta, shill fill again the station from
which I took you when we were both
young and full of hope; one hour more,
and [ shall be worth sixty thousand
Hlorins !”

He rose hastily, and, opening the ease-
ment, looked upon the scene before him,
The stars shone down with their ever-
glorious light upon the dirk witers of the
Seine, the numerous bridges had been
deserted by the Parisians for the gaicty of
the Boulevards and Palais Royale. Ex-
cepting the oce! sional splash of an oar,
there was seareely a sound borne on the
air. While he gazed long and silently,
the moon rose up, iilumiuing the busy
city.
‘+ Look,” he exclaimed suddenly, draw-
ing his wife nearer, and pointing to the
solemn outline of the dista.t Faubourg
st. Germain; ‘do you see the mansion
on which the moonlight falls ?”

She leaned her head fondly on his shoul
der, and whispered her assent.

«It was there my father dwelt,” he con-
tinued: ‘tit was there Ais father grew
grey, and there we will live again. ¢
could not brook the neighborhoed of the
new noblesse; neither our fate nor our
broken spirits could endure their flaunting
show. No, Benedetta, we will live in the
old ancestral home, and the same heart
that gladdened éhem shall shed its warmth
on us.”

**And [I shall soe you happy, at Inst?”
she inquired.

“Yes!” he replied proudly, ‘ Happy
ina rugged destiny overcome, happy in
your happiness—the night of our sorrow is
succeeded by a glorious dawn—we have
now only to rejoice !”

An expression of delirous pleasure was
overspreading his colorless cheek, his wife
was sweeping the hair from his temples
with her thin wan fingers, and looking in
his face with a mingled look of pride and
love, when suddenly she saw his texture.
violently convulsed. A deep, agonising
pain shot through his left side, the heart
palpitated audibly, But he subdued the
exclamation that was rising to his lips,
and smiled away the anxious fears. After
afew moment's silence, during which the
prog ceased, he rese with unwonted elus-
ticity in his tread,

«Do not go out to-night,” said his wife,
“ you are in no state of health to encounter
the misty air; surely to-sorrow will
suffice !”

“It is time,” he replied, ‘t and the last
time that I visit these stern taskmasters.
Ah! ah! tyrants that they have been, they
are humble now, for I kept back the last
stroke that sets the machine in motion,
and without this little screw itis valueless

Hiterature,

Adieu, my Benedetta, within an hour I

fortune that will render us happy !”

He seized his hat, embraced her, and
hurried trom the house to a voiture that
steod near, His wife saw him enter and
drive off.

* *

* *

Fifteen years before, the family of Eus-
tache Arral had been one of the happie
in France—its wealth commanded luxury,
its Jineuge procured consideration and
respect. A scion of that old school, whose
formal manners and studied politeness had
remained unaltered since the age of Louis
Quatorze, the young Eustache was born
aut the commencement of a new era,
Society was ensting aside the buckram
suit of the old regime, and assuming an
ease more congenial to modern taste and
peacetul relationship. Mingling. then.
with the ancient chivalric devotion to the
tair sex, this seductive freedom of a later
dey, Hustache, at twenty-five, was pro-
nounced by temale authority to be perfect.
Amid the young, the gay, and the thought-
less, he shone the resplendent star of

society. But alas! that society was in its
last hour. The womb of time was preg:
nant with calamity and change, and her

travail was at hand. Only one drop was
wanting te make the cup of retribution
overflow: that drop fell, and the masses
were aroused to a knowledge of their
strength. Every wild schemer, every
restless spirit, every disappointed gaie-
ster in the play of life, who loathed inac-
tivity, and hoped in the tumult of civil
commotion to reap harvest he had never
sown, now stood forth the pseudo-adyo-
eate of freedom. The stream rolled on,
until at last it burst resistlessly into the
sea of Revolution, ‘Then came all the
horro:s of intestine war—an anarchy with
many leaders, a religion formed to suit
human philosophy, the streets slippery
with the blood alike of the just and the
proscribed,

When the storm passed away desolation
wasleftbehind. Families, whose ancestry
had bled tor France during the middle age
of her gloty, were now utterly extinct;
their mansions razed, their fortunes seat-
tered to the winds. Among these, witha
young wife, stood Eustache Arral—a beg-
gar and alone!

But two alternatives now presented
themselves; starvation or toil, The hand
thathad hitherto never known an ungloved
movement must sear its cherished white-
ness in the art of a mechanic, ‘There was
one soothing vetlection, and one only, that
made the sncrifice less bitter. Like many
other lofty families which had been com-
pletely annihilated during the revolution-
ary troubles, his own, with the exception
of himself had ceased toexist. He might
heretore sink unnoticed and forgotten
ameng the common crowd. If he ever
retrieved his position, there would be no
degradation attending his return; if Fate
kept him struggling at the bottom of the
stream, he knew the great world too well
to imagine it would ever waste a thought
on the curled darling ofa departed day,
Labour, then, beeame his portion, and
angrily the spirit chated, hotly th: proud
k burned, at the dire necessity, A
glance, however, at the tender wile, who
had shared alike his happier and darker
lot, sufficed to quell his waverings. No-
thing remained but the ehoice of toil, ar
that was determined by one of those
strange coincidencies with which the ro-
mance of real life is so replete.

During his prosperity, the natural rest-

¢
t

!
ently devoted to the frivolities of life, had
otten found time for other and more use-
ful occupations, With the desultory ap-
plication of fashionable indolence, he had
wandered into the mazes of science. The
result of his pursuits, though it seemed
trifling, was suilicient to amuse an amateur,
Occasionally it burst forth in a clever
adaptation of some eontrivance tor his
carriage, his library. or his grounds! and
then his invention paused with the neces-
sity that aroused it. At lust, however a
great thought struck him. He pondered
over it long and gravely. He made cx-
periments that tended to illustrate its
use, and the possibility of its application :
they were suecesstul, Astonished at the
advent of such a discovery, he was about
to prosecute it with all the appliances that
wealth, knowledge, and influence could
bestow, when the Revolution burst forth,
in which no science flourished save that of
slaughter, Ut passed away. however, as
all things human must. Blood enough
was shed, sorrow enough was inflicted at

last. ‘he whirlpool of death shrank by
degr and dissolved into a ealm, leay-

Sustache Arral among its wrecks.
Under

ing I
So now the scere of toil began.
an assumed name, and in a lower
uarticr of his native city, he worked
aly for a pittance that was just sufficient
to keep his wite and himself trom positive
want, In course of time a son was added
to increase their necessities. He did not
despair. Sometimes literary efforts ex-
tended his slender revenue, at others ex-
tra toil rendered him independent of as-
sistance. And all this time the discovery
progressed—the mighty engine that was
not only to bring back their former wealth
but immortalise his name, was hastening
towards completion, His employers got
an inkling of the pursuit of his leisure
hours. ‘They sought with every art to
worm out the secret. They bullied, threat-
ened, attempts

sec
ringed; and, finding their
unavailing, ended by offering gold for the

invention. Their efforts were of course
infinitely below its real value; and, alter
permitting them to Know just enough to
see the importance of it, he fixed his price
and assumed indifference. ‘The proud
masters then became humble to their
haughty servitor, ‘They accepted his
terms. Securities were given to secure
mutual good faith, Still Eustache Arial
jealously withheld the last magic touch
that was to render the engine a golden
erucible. ‘The toil of nights when all else
slumbered, of holidays when all else made
jubilee, must not be yielded until the equi-
valent was grasped—palpably grasped—
in the yellow dross that was to raise him
to triumphant splendor = An appointment
was made when the change of intellect for
gold was to couclude. ‘The intermediate
time passed, the last needful stroke had
been prepared, and he had gone torth with
it to the rendezvous,

But different—alas! far different—from

shall have exchanged my secret for the

rd |S

essness ot his active mind, though appar |,

d

the gay scion of fashion who had first con-
ceived that sublime discovery was the
worn-out mechanic who hurried to com-'is a realua where the rainbow never fades

plete the task. His chestnut hair had now
become scant and grey, his brow was
seamed with rigid furrows. There was n
fitful, hectic flush in his cheek, like the
deathly red of the autumn leaf; an unnat-
ural light shone in his eye. With broken
frame, with tottering limbs, with features
conyulsed by suffering. he had gone forth.
Yet lightness reigned in his heart. The
tusk was done—the price awaited him;
the future loomed betore him like a gar-
den, where every step fell on flowers, and
not eyen a ruffled rose leaf should destroy
his epicurean joy. Yes. happines awaited
him! happines for Bunedetta and his
voy !—all was light in the landscape of
life!

* * * * * *

* *

“Tt is strange he should delay at sucha
time as this!” said the first of thiee men,
who awaited the arrival of Eustache Arral.
Ah!” sighed the second, a thin’ shriv-
elled being, with narrow forehead and
pursed-up lips, in every line of which the
character ot miser was written indelibly—
* it resembles his usual insolent indiffer-

ence, Sixty thousand florins! an awlul
price !"—and he sighed again—*t yet the

Is it
this last

bourgeois vagabond lingers still.
impossible to dispense with
stroke, and cheat the knave?”
* Quite impossible!” said
peaker.

‘Quite impossible!" echoed the thire
individual. ** [have studied itattentively,
and without his aid the iron mass isa heap
of lumber!’

They all sank again into silence, and
wandered listlessly around the huge ma-
chine, which nearly filled the apartment.
From the floor to the ceiling, trom the
right wall to the left, stretched the intri-
cate network of wheels, cylinders, and
cogs. There it stood, cold, useless, mo-
tionless, waiting, like the completed mon-
ster of Frankenstem, but a single breath
to kindle it into life,

“An hour past the time!" said one,
looking at his watch, and as he spoke, the
hollow bell of Notre Dame confirmed his
words with its booming voice.

* Surely, that is the sound of carriage-
wheels,” cried the shrivelled expectant,

the first

opening the window that looked upon the
street below. ‘* Yes; it is he at last; u

voiture stops at the door.”

‘They sat down, and assumed an air of
neoncern. A minute’s pause, and tho
river jumped from his box, the steps rat-
ed down, they heard the door of the vec-
ile opened, ‘Then there was another
ause. ‘They listened for his step upon
he stairs. All was. still—until suddenly

u
d
tl
h

the silence was broken by a low murmur-
ing hum. It grew into a conflict of voices,

A sound of groaning and creaking mingled
with the ery, as if some heavy body were
eing extricated from the crazy convey-
g xe

=
°

ance. A fecling of misgiving seized all
three at once. ‘They hastened to the win-

dow. After a single glance, they rushed
from the apartment, and hurried down
stairs with ashoultaneous impulse. Around
some prostrate figure stood a gaping
crowd, They pushed impetuously through
the mass—at length the whole scene was
before them—and then each of those sellish
faces turned pale as ashes,

Supported on the hall step, lay Eustache
rral—his eyes fixed, his teeth spasmodi-
uly clenched, ‘They did not cry for help,

for they knew that it was useless. ils

was dead !

In his pocket was the screw that was to
omplete the task, but they could never
apply it. The engineer and his secret had
liud together!

>

Tue Firesipe.—No lessons have a more
biding impression than those which gently
rop into the mind at the fireside. No fun
is more tickling, or leaves behind it less to

a

regret. No history is purer, as a whole,
than fireside history, and none lives long-

ev or more lovingly inremembrance, He
who cannot look forward with yearning
desires to fireside enjoyments, as the sta-
ple enjoyments of his lite, is greatly to be
blamed; for the fireside has its duties to
be done, us well as its pleasures to be re-
vized. ‘They who make light of its sanc-
tities, or who rise up in rebellion against
its spirit, or who wantonly disturb its
pence, or who poison its springs ot eonti-
denee with suspicion, or who inttoduce
jealousies within that charmed circle, or
who profine it by ought that savors of sel-
tish despotism, break the spell which en-
virons it, and forteitits rewards. It should
be the alter to which we bring our daily
sacrifices—the turtle doves and young
pigeons of home life—to offer them to the
genius of domestic unity. There is no
place where we are more bound to tinind
the things of others” as our own, or more
gracetully display affection in trifles, or
ean with more profit study to please others
than ourselves. Forgetfulness of fireside
duties indicates, to soy the least a detici-
ency of disinterested love, A man cannot
be truly jadged by what he does before
the world, All manner of sellish motives
may urge him to wear in that broad thea-
tre the dress of sanctity. or courage, or
courtesy, or patience, or considerateness,
“that he way be seen of men.” But itis
at his own fireside that he best shows hin-
self, when he casts aside the rments of
pretence, and puts on the slippers of na-
tural habit. What he is there and then he
probably is in reality, for his heart is en
dishabille. and commends itsell, or other-
wise, by its own proper qualities unveiled
and undisguised,

A Brautiru, Rer.ection, — Bulwer
eloquently says: [cannot believe that
earth is man’s abiding place. It can not
be that our life is cast up by the ocean of
eternity to float Amoment upon the waves,
and then sink into nothingness? Else
why is it that the glerious aspirations
which lean like angels from the temple of
our hearts, are forever marching about
unsatisfied? Why is it that the rainbow
and clouds come eyer with a beauty that
is not of earth and then pass off and leave
us to muse upon their faded loveliness?
Why is it that the stars who hold their
festivals around the midnight throne, are
set above the grasp of our limited facultie:,
forever mocking us with their unap-
proachable glory? And finally, why is it
that the bright forms of human beauty are
presented to our view, and then taken
trom us, leaving the thousand streams of
our affection te flow back in Alpine tor-
rents upon our hearts? We ace born tor
a higher destiny than that of earth; there