AND WE S T Summerside Doucnal, ERN PION EER. DEVOTED T O LITERATURE, SCIENC E, COMMERCE, AGRICULTURE, AND NEWS. Vol. 2.—Whole Numbe r 66, er 1, 1866. No. 4. THE Summerside Journal sI8 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED KVERY THURSDAY EVENING, RY BERTRAM & BARNARD, AT THEIR OFFICE, CENTRAL STREET, TERMS: e year, in advance, 68, 3d. 0 half advance 7s, 6s, )Persons getting up Clubs of ‘Ten Subscribers will be entitled to the Journal for one year, ‘1 copy for on jRATES OF ADVERTISING: One square for 12 months, 2 10; 0 do ** 6 months, lw 0 do ** 8 months, 018 0 do first insertion, 0. 5:0 do each subsequentin, 0 1 38 All communications should be addressed 0 BERTRAM & Barnanv, andthe Postage, in all cases, prepaid, The following gentlemen have consent- .ed to act as Agents, and they are authori- sed to receive monies, and give receipts, ,on our account : Charlottetown—W. E, Dawson, Esq, Henry Harvie, Esq. Centreville—Major Wright, Esq Upper Bedeque—Wm., G, Strong, Esq @ryon—George Muttart, Esq St. Eleanor's—W. ‘Tl. Hunt & Co Cascumpec—Benjamin Rogers, Esq Margate—Reuben Tuplin, Hsq New London—Vidgeon & Stewart. Malpeque—W) & P McNutt. Southport—Uenry Beer, Esq Vernon River—Mr. George Vickerson Georgetown—Andrew LeBrocque, Esq Port Hill—David Ramsay, Esq. Zignish—Benjamin Haywood, Esq. Miscouche—Joseph B. Perry. Crapaud—Charles Collit. JOB PRINTING of every description, performed with neatness and despatch, and at moderate rates, + at the Jounnan Oftice. seen Summerside Markets, Summensipe, Noy, 1, 1866. sere eee 280 263d ---- Bs a 3s Gd eee eee Ts ldalds 8d ---- Is 2da ls 6d Oats per bush Barley per bush - - Potatoes per bush - - ‘Turnips per bush - - Butter per lb by ‘Tub - - ----- Is ld als 2d Jaard per Ib -- Oda lod ‘Lallow per Lb. -- Oda lod Exgs per doz - -- 9d a 10d Beef perlb ------- -- 4d a dd Mutton per lb ------ -- 3da dd Pork per lb by carcass -- 4da Sd -- -1s 6da ls Od -- 50s a 608 --- lisa lis - - 50s a 60s -- Is 6d 2s - 10s 4s ads Geese cach -, Flour per bbl Oatmeal per crt. Hay per Ton - Straw per cwt. ine Boards - Spruce Boards Business @ards, BANK OF PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND. Corner of Queen § Water Sts., Charlottetown President—Hon. Tuomas H. Havyirann, Cashier—Witiiam Cunpaun, Es Discount Days—Mondays & Hours of Business—Fom 10a.m. to 1 p.m, from 2 p.m. to 4 pan UNION BANK. Grafton St., Queen's Square, Charlottetown President—Cuantes Parmer, Esquire. Cashier—James ANpenson, Esquire, Discount Days—Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Hours of Business—From 10 a.m to Tp um from2 puto 4pm SUMMERSIDE BANK. Central Street, Summerside, P, E. Island, President—lfon. Joun R. Ganvinen. Cashier—E. L. Lyprarp, Esquire Discount Days—Tuesdays and Fridays. Notes for Discount must be in betore 11 o'clock on Discount days, Hours of Business—10 a. m., tol p.m. from 2p. m., to4 p.m JAS. WILLIAMSON, Commission Merchant, " "MONTRH AL. is prepared to receive all orders for Flour, Cornmeal, Leather Tobacco, &c. on deeasonable Terms. REFERENCES: D. Rogers, Esq., - - - Summerside, P, 1. John P, Thurgar, Esq., - - St. John, N.B. Messrs. B. Douglas & Co., Amherst, N.S., July 26, 1866. tf. James Greenough, . bn} FLOUR Commission Merchant. No 47 Commercial Street Corner of Clinton Street BOSTON J. F. HILL & OO. DEALERS IN Potatoes, Apples, Onions, Korcign & Domestic Hruits, Cranberries, Beans, Green & Pried Apples Stalls 107 and 109. and Cellar No. 19, Faneyjl Hall Market SOUTH SIDE BOSTQN, CARD WILLIAM BEAIRSTQ, Commission Merchant, Auctioneer & General Agent, WATPR STREET, Summerside, ------------ ---- P, E. Island Summerside, Oct. 12, 1864, DAVID BERTRAM, Saddle and Harness Maker, Water Street . . . . . Summerside: October 12, 1865. ly ; Business Gards. THOMAS KELLY, Barrister - at - Law AND NOTARY PUBLIC, &c. SUMMERSIDE, - - - PE. ISLAND aug, 9, 1866 ly “GHORGHALUNY, | BARRISTER AND Attorne y-at-Law, NOTARY PuBLIC, Gc, Telegraph Luildings, Water Street, Charlottetown, -- -P. E. Island. WILLIAM DODD, Commission Merchant, And Auctioneer, QUEEN SQUARE, CHARLOTTETOWN --- P, E. ISLAND H. J. RICHARDSON, CoMMISSION MERCHANT Auctioneer. Flour, Groceries, and Dry Goods. Water Street... ... Summerside. CARVELL BROTHERS, AUCTIONEERS, Commission Merchants, And General Agents, BANK BUILDING, QUEEN STREET. Charlottetown, «= « - = PK, Tan, THOMAS HWANFORD, AUCTIONEER AND Commission Merchant, ST. JOUN, N. B. Nov 1, 1865 ly DRS, PRICE & BLACK, Physicians & Surgeons, Orrick—At the SUMMERSIDE DruG Srore next door to Bank, Central Stree SUMMERSIDE, ... <2 FP. Bi ISLAND October 12, 1865. ly J, Il. GIBSON, Plain & Ornamental HOUSE& SIGN PRINTER, Summenside,.... DP. L. Island. October 12, 1865. Archibald McKay. MONOTON, N. B., Contractor and Agent for the purchase and sale of— Ship Timber, Masts, Plank, House Frames, and Lumber of all kinds. 3@™" Orders for shipment will receive promp attention . bias Dealer in REFERENCES: uire, squire, Tuomas ALLry Sinas Barnann, FE: May 17, 1866. E. D. STAIR CABINET-MAKER, AND Undertaker. FURNITURE OF ALL KINDS MADE TO ORDER, Kent Street, ---+-- Sept. 1866. 6m. A CARD. NUE subseriber having purchased the STOCK IN TRADE of James L. Hoiw yy at St. Kleanor’s, the buginess in future will be conducted by, fim, Asjit is his intention to keep constaitly on hang a variety of goods adapted for the country ade, he respectfully solicits a share of public patronage, ALBERT L, ANDERSON, St. Bleanor's, April 10, 1866, JOHN ANDREW MACDONALD, Importer of. Dry Goods, Hardware, Crockeryware, Groceries, stoves, Furniture, &e. &e. Summerside, «oes ..+-- P. EK, Island } Charlottetown. Isl. Charlottetown r A. W. ANDRE'S Marble Works, Monuments, Tombs, Grave- stones, &c. American & Italian Marble con- stantly on hand. Sold at a less price than at any other estab- lishment in the Provinces. Point Du chene, N, B., oct. 18, 1865, Carriage Factory! o has evgry facility public that CLABS CARRIA ing out a FIRS SLEIGH, | Vly best offmountin: arapteed and in the first style. All wh wt good serviceable Waggan ort hh ii do Avell to call at the Long River Carridge Fact Atso—All kinds of Blacksmith wark, such as Csrriage and Sleigh Mow Plough Mounting, Horse Shoeing, Shi work, &e., done on the premises with neatness & despatch DONALD BEATON, Long River, New London, aug. 16, 1866, 8m Point Du Chene, Shediac, |: Summerside, Prince Edward Island, Thursday, Novemb PORTRY. oo ee pn nner THE WATCHER. Low bending o'er the couch of death, A grief-worn, stricken mother lay, To gather, from the struggling breath ‘The words her dying mouth would say. The rising sun its radiance threw Upon that maiden’s fragile form; And rosebuds, decked with glittering dew, Breath’'d forth their fragrance from the lawn. The little birds, so still before, From blooming trees their matins raise, And seem, in sympathy, to pour A softer, richer song of praise. The dying girl, aroused awhile yy strains she fondly loved to hear, Kissed her dear parent, with a smile, And sought her breaking heart to cheer. Sweet music, mother !—soon to cease— But sweeter far I hear on high— Glad strains of welcome, joy and peace, To cheer my spirit, ere I die. O, mother dear, forbear to weep, Love cannot stay the parting breath; Say, what is death? but lengthened sleep, ‘To wake in heaven, as Jesus saith, A little while, and we shall meet Where pain and grief are rever known— To worship at Immanuel’s feet ; Aguin to know as we are known. Ere the poor mother could reply, The spirit of the maiden pass‘d, To dwell with ransomed souls on high, Long as Eternity shall last. Select HZiterature. ~NELVS: VICTORY. a Purr Frnt lay wearily on his pillows, poor fellow! Crippled as he was, the days wore slowly by—gray days! Ashe lay dreamily looking ont of the window, his sister Nellie came in, and, setting a bas- ket of cones and moss down on a chair near the door, she stepped to her brother's bedside and threw back the gray hood and tassels of her cape, and stood with her rosy, Wind-freshened face, and her pretty brawn braids loosened by her breezy walk, *Philip,’sald she, ‘IT think this is the loveliest place Lever saw. I have been away over into the ‘Hundred Acre Lot,’ as nurse calls it, on Squire Wilbur's land, and then across the turnpike, over to the lake-edge, among the pines, and see! this moss and the cones I got there, Won't we have some splendid baskets and thing's ? and, Phil, my pocket is full of checkerber- ries.’ And, getting a cavdsbasket that stood on the window-ledge, she began to shake out the searlet berries into it, keeping up, meantime, @ merry breeze ot talk, telling all about where she had been and whom she had seen, «And, oh, Phil,’ said she, amongst the rest of her merry talk, ‘met Dr, Grey on the turnpike, and he asked me if bringing you here into the country wasn’t just the right medicine for you, and if I thought this was equal to being in town. Ta be sure I do, and I told him you were like a newman, Ifyou could only walk, my blessed brother! and a shadow fell over her bright face. ‘Never mind, Phil. If that ugly wound ever heals enough, so that you can go about the house even, and stand in the door, and look out on this glorious country stillness and greenness, so quiet, and sunny, and beautiful, it will be sure togét wellthen, And Phil, Leame near forgetting to tell you, Dr, Grey says he expects the other doctor to come out of town to-day—the one who is going to act as his colleague, you know—and he says he shall bring him round to see you soon, Dr. Grey says that he is so driven that he don’t pretend to eat or yslecp now-a-days, there is so much ccuntry practice.” ‘TL shall rather dread a stranger—shan't you, Nell? said Phil. ‘Tdon'tknow, said Nell, He may prove quite an acguisition to our limited cirele in society. Let's see—that consists at present ot Dr. Grey, Nurse Gould and our noble selves,” and she laughed heartily. ‘Well, well, whether he comes or not, T want my lunch, for Lam starving near- ly.’ “+ Yes, IN go right now, Phil. How I wish mother could look in now and see how cozy we are, Tmreal glad she let me come, instead ot coming herself, And Phil, it nothing happens, we'll walk over to the lakesedge together another spring. “Yes, you dear old Nell,’ said the sick man, his pale face seemed to light up from hers, so filed as it was with youth and sunshine, ‘But, it seems, Nell, as if J couldn't wait——' ‘Courage, dear,’ gaid Nell; and she flitted off in quest of the luncheon. Later jn the day Phil said; ‘Nell, there is same one at the door, and he has rung and rung; and there, he’s roing. Hurry, Nell? But Nellie was at the door before Phil's words were aut af his mouth, and, throw- ing it open quickly, the jay af the cattage door made the strangerturn, He saw her and stepped nearer hey, ‘What a glorious tyce | thanght Nell. He bowed gracefully. ‘Miss Flint, [ prestime. Allow me to introduce myself=Dr, Fanchon, at your service. Dr. Grey sent me ayer to see about that change of wash for your brothers wound, which he had planned for it to- night. My colleague bade me apologize for his neglect of you ta-day, and bade me introduce myself and explain his absence, Ile is ealled to a very critical case, and has left some of his other patients with me.’ ‘Ah, Dr. Fanchon, oome in. Dr, Grey was just speaking of you this morning,’ said Nellie, in her own sweet, frank way leading him to Philip's room. ‘Ile told me he was expecting you to-day, but I did ndt know you had arrived? ‘ * [have been in the place only two hours, Miss Flint,’ said he, his great black eyes lighting up with a pleasant smile, ‘ This . is the first professional call I have had the honor to make in the place. The doctor found me waiting at his office when he got back this morning from his rounds. And this is our patient, eh? How do yuu find yourself to-day, sir?’ said he, turning, in his easy, graceful way, to Phil, at Nell’s introduction, *So-so, doctor,’ said Phil. to see you, sir, Nell, lounging-chair that look: the room,’ The doctor smiled, and having seated himself in Phil’s chair, as he sat partly turned away from Nell to her brother, she had a chance, forgthe first time, to observe him critically. A magnificent, massive form; black, wavy hair; a clear, wavy skin, and a magnificently full and black mustache, beneath which his chin showed smooth aud shapely asa marble carving; and a white hand—a wondrous hand in its shape and expression, for hands have their expressions—so much Nellie had time to note, when he turned suddenly - ‘Dr. Grey says your brother has had a pretty hard time,’ said he. * When did you leave New York, Miss Flint?’ ‘We came four weeksago, doctor. We left New York the lust of April. Some of our friends discovered this cozy nook on their summer trip to the mountains; and our doctor in town said Philip would never get well unless he had fresh country air anda change of scene, Dr. Hazledean knew Dr. Grey here of old, and recom- mended him to us, so we came.’ * Put the pillows behind me, Nell, and Til sit up awhile,’ said Philip; but before Nell could reach his side, the doctor, with a strong arm und gentle effort, made the required change, and witha smile as sweet and sympathetic as a woman's, said : ‘There you are, Mr. Flint. Do I serve your turn as well as Miss Nellie ?’ Philip thanked him merrily. ‘Your nose is out of joint, Nell,’ said he. You and Nurse Gould together could not have moved me like that, though you do wonders in that line, Doctor, 1 hape by fall Lshan’t have to be such a helpless stick; I feel asifthis was just the place for me to get well.’ ‘Yes, yes, Mr, Flint; please God we shall do wonders in the way of healing and being healed, here in this fresh, breezy place,’ said Dr, Fanchon, and he looked at Nell with such a strange depth of sad feeling in his dark eyes, that she could not turn hers away from the pleading, haunted look under those weary lids; but the look Hashed out and was gone, and his eyes looked so sunny and smiling, that she could hardly convince herself that it was not all ip her own imagination. The doctor chatted gracefully and happi- ly about the scenery, the possibilities in in the way of society, the fine air, and pratt making © critical examination of Philip's case, which he had quietly and warily been noting, however, ever since his introduction into the room, noting every change that fitted over Philip's pale fnou, 7 He left a presoviption tor the wash, and, shaking hands with them, he took his de- purture, promising to call the next morn- ing; and so he went his way. Nellie and Philip compared nates, and decided that Dr, Fanchon was, by all odds, the handsomest and most fascinating young man, orrather, youngish, they had ever met. ‘What in the world, Nellie, sent such a man as that up into this quiet little place ?’ said Phil, ‘I'm sure I can’t tell,’ said Nell; and again his words about ‘healing and being healed,’ and the fancied sad look that ac- companied them, flitted back to Nellie’s mind, but she did not connect them with Phil's remark, and dismissed the idle thoughts, Little she knew of the pain with which she would recur to them some day, won- dering at her blindness all the time, Alter this call the doctor came every day in the most genial way. Dr. Grey sometimes accompanied him; but at length he gradually left the ease entirely to Dr. Fanchon, And so Dr. Fanchon kept com- ing. Spring deepened into summer, buds burst, held their short glory of bloom, and then withered, ‘Lhe slender wheat-blade sprang to noble maturity—2 whiskered warrior with bowed nead. The summer sun glowed hot, mellowing with its waves of warmth and life all the litle village, the hills and woods, Nell’s walks were becomin country life, with its sweet : suries ot leatand bloom, bud and green forest depth, its luxuriance of glovions things, filled her unaccustomed soul with delight. Philip seemed to be a litle restored ; his wound was healing, and it was time torit, too; it was nearly a year since he had been hurt in the railroad accident. But, tor some reason or other, his system seemed to be entirely prostrated; there was no healthy reaction, and allenergy and am- bition was gone out of him, Ile was now, with the faithful doctor's help, able to reach the door, and as Nell had prophecied, the sight of the summer carnival out of door seemed to do him good; but it was in a subdued way. And | Nell telt a dull weight on her heart when she thought of her spring hopes in regard tv him, and compared them with the sum- ner fruition, But still she comforted her- self with hoping that when the hot sum- mer days were past, and the cool, clear autumn days came, they would complete the invigorating work already begun by the fresh country air, and she devoted her- self still more faithtully and tenderly, it it! were possible, to her poor Phil. llis invalid mother had come from the city, bringing her married sister, and Nek lie's duties had become less onerous since the spring; but still she and Philip seemed to have # closer aflinity for each other than any of the rest of the family, and the great- ae af each day was spent by his bed- side, And Dr, Fanchon still came daily, He seemed to feel happy and at home then, and as he gradually slipped into a familiar and cozy uequainkince there, he would unbend himself and talk to these two young comrades as he unbasomed himself to_no other living beings, He came when de (elt sad or when he was happy, and he found them eyer the same—aliays in tone with his own mood, whatever it might be. ‘Tam happy ae the doctor the the easiest onein glorious; out of the vill aver in vain, | lake the broad window-sill, and Philip lay on the sofa, he would sit near them and talk re ‘the good, the true, and the beauti- ‘ul,’ He would let them catch glimpses of the workings of his own glorious soul. He would flash before them its hidden wealth of thought and poesy, and sometimes, though rarely, they would catch a faint glimpse of its store of tenderness, as he spoke of his mother, who had long gone to vest, and whose life had become to all on earth but asa ‘story from a printed book.’ And once he let Nell read his re- ligious creed; he told her all he believed and loved, and what pained him to his heart’s core iv the vile contests and strifes of the many cliques or denominatiens, And then, as he went home that night, under the summer starlight, atter telling her, he smiled bitterly to himself at the thought: ‘What a fool I always make of myself up there! turning my heart inside out so! Why do I tec! that irresistable desire to tell that girl everything? to let my noblest self appew before those innocent eyes? Dr. Fauchon, take my advice, and don’t make a fool, or worse, of yoursell.’ And for a day or two he assumed a shadow of reserve; but Nell’s cheery, child-like, frank ways soon scattered it, and Philip seemed to miss his usual genial, brotherly way, till, almost unconsciously to himself, he lasped back into it again, and, if anything, became a shade more frank, as is often the case when a selt- imposed restraint is removed, And as for Nell—our young Nell, with her heart in her eyes—and a guileless heart it was, ieee Ruy Gal I tellhow Dr. Guy Vanchon was vecoming a necessity to her; her very heart took root in his strong, noble heart and presence. And meanwhile she never dreamed that she loved him so; she never dreamed that others might haye more right to him than she, Sne had caught that sad, worn look on his glorious fuce often since that spring day when he spoke so earnestly, somourn- fully, about ‘healing and being healed, and since then she had noticed twice a few words half uttered, then chok- ed back, She had seen those dark eyes tlash ov fill with tears at a sudden turn in some of their twilight talks; she had no- ticed sudden silences, fitful breaks in their talk, and yet she never paused to connect it with anything in his thoughts ; she never wondered why it was so. She had a vague idea that he had not had a happy early life—that was all, Poor Nellie! she was not versed in hnnan nature; she could not see how the man was struggling with himselt; she never dreamed how many times he re- solved mantully neyer to come to see her again, breaking his resolves, as soon as they were farmed, the very next day, when the yearning desire to be in her rest- ful, quieting presence, with its sweet, child- like dash of reverence, was too strong to be repressed, And he would go again, And so he kept forging new chains, and further and further away drilted his pru- dent intentions, till one evening he made a brave effort and resolved to leave it all there, and never to go again, torhe knew thatif he but sent the word, Dr. Grey would take charge of Philip ance more; sealed door; and he knew that never, while that iron secret must be hid, had he right to love any woman, or to ask her to marry him, Well, our poor friend, who had so braye- ly pledged himself to dash out of his dull lite its one well-spring of innacence, of love, of peace, we will with him—how well he earried it out. very core of snmmer’s heat, anc lie and Philip would) watch the path s the field tor his coming, and watch Duty seemed a cold and vixenish dame, and he struggled harder wand harder with} tangled curls we himself as he vode on. Ile cricd out at his own bitter lot; he vias ready to curse the hfe which had be- fallen him, Te laid plans for leaving the place, for fleeing from temptation, for going where, by the wildest possibility he was sure of never seeing Nell again. she was beginning to love him, and he cursed his own heartlessness in not thinking before that he might be making her sulfer; that all this might end in suffer. ing for her, his ‘darling! his gentle darl- ing! *1t he could only take back the last ten years of his lite?—and Dr Fan- chon ground his teeth as he thought on, and his face was stormé with feeling, with agony, When—as he rode slowly into a grove of pines. where the dead ‘needles of last year’s foliage, lying like a thick ear- pet upon the ground, muflied his horse's tread—he caught a land through a vista of foliage, of Nell, in her white wrapper and light shawl. She was lean- ing agalnst a tree, onthe bank of the little he had admired so much upon dis- covering it in the spring. To the wind went all the doctor's fine resolutions, She stood with her back to- ward him, but he knew every curve of that dear form, every glint in that golden brown hair. He knew she was perfectly nnconscious of his presence, and an insane, raging desire passed like a wave over his soul—reckless impulse to look in her dear eyes again, to tell her he was going away from the lige hag it not true ?’—to tell her *good- xy.) Yes! he would see her again—he must see her! and for the rest his soul was in a blinding whirl. He neither thought nor cared, you see. So he went to bid Nellie Flint good-by,’ to tell her he was going away, that duty called him, She did not hear him. She was partly turned away from him; she was humming a little song to herself, and looking across the Inke as she hummed. — He could ever see the color on her check, the hair rippling on her forehead, her slender hands twist- ing the tassels of her dress. Another step and a slight rustle betrayed his presence, She turned with a start, and Hlis calls seemed so be ever as much for his own healing as they wereprolessional ; and ashe would drop in sometimes iv the seeing him, her face lit up gloriously, and her hands fluttered out toward him almost | unconsciously, 1 summer twilight, while Nellie leaned in see how it fared}, ; : i ot medicine, He started ou his rounds immediately the] one dark, s next morning. It wasa rare day, at the! 4¢ the lecture-room, an he rode } | ‘ age, With a lingering look] ; across the field at the Flints’ cottage and a pang at his heart, he thought how Nel- *What a start you gave me, doctor! Welcome!’ said she, smiling. ‘ Where did you come fiom? You didn’t ‘rain down,’ for you couldn't on such a splendid day asthis. I was just thinking about you —or—rather,’ and she colored slightly, and stammered. ‘x moment ago. Sit down,' and she dropped lightly down upon the moss at the tree toot, and made a place for him by her side, ‘What were you thinking about me, Miss Nellie ?’ asked he, as he threw himself down nearher. ‘Were you thinking what asad devil 1 am? or were you wondering where I came from, and who I belonged to—what my past lite has been? — I say, iss Nellie, why have you never asked me t all these things? You know I haye neyer spoken of myself. I should have hated you if you had, though? Something in the savage earnestness of his words startled Nellie, and she turned to look at his face more earnestly. It was pale and conyulsed, and his eyes seemed ty lighten. His looks alarmed her. ‘Why, doctor,’ she exclaimed, starting to her feet, *how you frighten me! What is the matter? never saw you look so before! I was only wishing you were here with me to see how beautiful the Jake looks, and how the sun looks on it; how the wind ripples and rocks those great lily-leaves ; it is so still and lovely here; but you have driven it all out of my head with gloomy words and troubled looks, Something has troubled you, poor friend! Can IT comfort you?’ and she crept nearer, and held ont her white, trank hand to him, as if that poor child’s hand could shield Doctor Fan- chon’s heart from the phantoms which haunted it. He took her hand and drew her toa seat by his side. ‘Don't mind me, good little friend; Tam only captious and peevish this morning, [ had no business to come here and dis- turb your pleasant little tyrst with Dame Nature. But, Miss Nellie, Lam weary and sick of this lite, and [ want to tell you astory. Will you listen to it, little friend? I can't harrow up my own life. Let me talk in a parable; and, oh Nellie, listen with all your heart, for you are to be once or|judge.’ ‘Hush ! dear doctor !—hush !’ said Nellie, ‘You feel troubled. Don’t try to tell me any story, Just look and listen to all the beautilul sights and sounds about us here, Let us talk of pleasant things, and you will grow as happy and tranquil as you ought to be on this lovely morning. You mike my heart ache with your strange, gloomy way and words!’ ‘Listen, Nellie! was all he vouchsafed in answer: ‘I am going to begin my story,’ and, holding her hand in his firm clasp, he began, ina dreary way, halt to himsell : . » ‘Once there was a lad, a wayward young rascal, the pet of the household and of the plantation, for his parents were Southerners, und lived on a large estate, and he was the only child and heir; and so he was petted, and pampered, and spoiled, But he had a few redeeming traits. Yes,’ repeated he, earnestly, * upon my soul. [ think the boy had some noble impulses, and if he had been born a beggar, and had Nae} ‘ Ld to ‘rough it,’ he might have been good for something. As it was, he was a helpless rogue * Invery scason his parents took him to and he knew he had no business to go|the North with them, and as he reached there, for in his heart of hearts vas a}his teens, his tutor was dismissed, and he was placed at school in the North, with friends, * He fancied books, and mastered them rapidly, and by the time he was nineteen had taken up the study of medicine. At first his family bitterly opposed it, but he had always had his way, and of course he pad it thea—and so he kept on in the study Another year went by, and tormy evening, as he came out d ‘hurried toward iis ladgings, he stumbled over some object nthe strect. He nearly fell, and turned s quick as he had gained his footing vin, to try and see in’ the darkness. and rain what or who it was, ‘It wasa young girl; she had risen to her fect and stood under the street-lamp ; she was wrapped in rags; her blaek, re thrown back froma face us beautiful as a Madonna, but so wan and pate ; and it bore the most heart-broken expression. **Oh, what is the matter? asked the student. ‘Did Lhurtyou? Iam so sor. ry! “* She shook her head, and with a feeble smile turned to go away; but her streneth failed her, she sank to her knees, and then she dropped slowly to the walk, her pale young tuce and clased eyes touching the wetstones. She had tainted, Quick ae thought the hoy raised her in his arms and shouted for help, but the streets were nearly empty, and he could summon no one, tilla hack came across the Way, and signaling the driver, he bore the poor thing to the carriage door, lifted her in and alter a moment's consideration, order. ed the driver to a certain street, where he knew a good, decent woman, who would take the Por thing in, he thought, for his sake, and take care of her. ‘ By this time she had revived a little and tried to smile her thanks. They soon reached the door of Mrs. Brown, and he tily told her all he wanted done for the sic, as he carried her in with the driver's aid, and told how he found her, and went off, promisining to call again in the mam. ing, and hear her story, when she should teel able to tell him about herselt. ‘Mrs. Brown was a little reluctant at first, but the poor girl had fainted away again, and lay on_ the sofa, looking like b corpse ; the appeal of that still, marble-like faee was fowerful, and Mrs, Brown's motherly heart warmed in spite of herself to the poor wretched ehild,” ‘The next day, when her protector ealled, the poor street-waif was delirious with fever, and kept raving incessant] about ‘little Rueben,’ and about starvin® to death,’ and so she tossed in her heayy fever for three weeks, but her new friends were as kind as frionds could be, “In her delirium she called Mys, ‘mother,’ and that carried the wai ioays heart completely, and an own mother could not have done more for her, *As the girl beeatse conval told them that her name was Ann that her father and mother had summer, and left litte Reuben and all alone; that she had tried to get , she