owe

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SRE EE TE HHT RT TT . ‘he. * a © 4 VOL. NAY. wees eae MKS PASS =— wt

CLOSING AND

POST OFFICE, CAHRLOT

CHARLOTTETOWN

1 oer eee APRIVAL OF PAAILS : PERI, WE BERR Ry

—" Via OWN

WN, P. E. ISLAND,

“yeep " ¥ ’ ’ . Paws pap CFTER FRIDAY, (98 ECEMBER, LLL LOO am ee te ae 4 DUI } t Tuesday, Thursday, \ s c | Saturday evening, but _ } in (bout Puesday the 30th, and I alternate Tuesday rwards G bh ~ West i N sunday exe epted, 2 ‘ . G g ‘ , Sunday excepted, 2 ate 8s ) West AP Friday, 2 p- m. , us te St.P lay, Saturday, 7 p.m. a § Sout dnesday, Saturday, 2 p.m, Belfas 4 Bed e—T ( y, Wednesday. Friday, ad 5 , p.m Brach , Friday, 9 a. m, XX ) Pis ) Xe 5 | i | . ious to the closing M ind registration | I ( delivery, must, in all | Mai g | en NI i) 1. A. MACDONALD, Postmaster. i?) { i | (> ~4 e oa he }} . f a or | . > i Husiness Cards. \voperties for Sale. & + @

=r

JOSEPH CREAMER Physician & Surgeon,

WILLIAM DO Commission “Mierchanmt and AUCTIONEER

QUEEN SQUARE,

— —— ; ‘ Amide i i mat

VULCAN FOUND

* I 7 VV IN «

R ¥

Hote

rHERI nD) &

BANGOR HOUSE, PLEASANT..Y SITUATED ON North Side St. John, - - - New Brunswick J H. RUSSEL, PROPRIFTOR. ‘ARVELL BR AUCTION: Commission AND GENERAL AGENT, ®ANK BUILDING, QUEEN STREET,

Charlottetown, P. E. I

Ming’s Squure,

;

«Yt ‘aS,

. > ER

Vierchonica

teh Walid bi d

JAMES BRENNAN, House, Sign, atd Carriage Painier, Paper fan Glazier

SOURIS WEST.

6A Ser &

4)

Jaly 7, 1873. i ae F. M. CAMPBELL.

GENERAL MERCHANT

COAAMISSION AGENT

ATCTIONE E24 BROKER.

[RINTT COBNEL, GEORGETOWY, P. £. I. AG ‘T FOR THI Life I

Standard

S

HERMANS & SON,

w 9 4 4

jall i Thin amithna bell-Hangers, Gun and Tin-smiths QUEEN STREET, OPPOSITE WATSON'S DRUG STORE. { EG to return their tha

ava. és Ly

} } “ ins to the ¢ i

ext led

public for the liberal patronag to them since their commencement and ask for a coutiauance ofthe same. They keepeonstauty on hand

A meat Asortmeni ct TIVNWARE, KITCHEN UPEASILS é&c., es, &e¢.

ALL ORDER: in the above BUS NI be punct Ail titended io Hfaving lately tuade Ia ‘heapest Markets intended fer H as

fias Fittin

hs

5, Water Closets,

Bell Pittings, &., &c., iam prepared to SELL THEM at RA LOW AS CAN BE HAD IN THE CITY, i will fit them up in agoed workmanlike style fo a generous public, we would say, that Srdere in THI BRANCwn OF OUR BUSI NESS will be att nded to with Despatch \ Lot of First Class WATLLR COOLERS « ‘ ray ED sce » wrarret ou SAYER’S CRYSTAL BLUE. Sold Ceaver than er

PRINTING.

Having improved

Power & Gordon Presses,

The Newest Styles of Type, We are prepared to do all is of

BOOK & FANCY JOB PRINTING

on the Lowest Te ins, at the

EXAMINER OFFICE.

4 ‘ s*erpcr ! OTHERS

nsurance Co.

Va

Valuable Business Stand for Sale. | riber wi |, by private sale,

House, with other

uildings, situated at Cardi,an t chains from Railroad | As this is one of the finest and | nent business stands on the/| ties desirous of engaging in|

Business, will find it to their vall and examine, before

1 r elsewhere

Also, 15 Building Lots, situated within | f the Bridge, and suitable stands AD busi There is also | ita, fronting on Cardigan River

Is from the Bridge. be sold to suit intending

usiness.

ngle mil!, kaving

o} 1 ol SaW, iaf ff and 80

t'ar for cutting all kinds of ies other Saws, with about f Freehold Laod, 2 miles from

r intends to wind up

buisness, for the present, be requesis itties indebted to him by Note of Book Account, or otherwise, to | r respective accounts on or before

August next. All sums remaining paid after that date will be handed over | ~ BUGH L. McDONALD. | Cardigan Bridge, June 10, 1873.

FREEHOLD PROPERTY

| FOR SALE.

j

M 100 acres for Sale, fronting on [fLLSBOROUGH RIVER, Pie

s up said River, ealled PORTAGE. re § Beds,and a quantity |

] d Oyster Mud that will enrich Also atarge MARSH. It is other- |

nes

{ Cc , | Ovste

Lath, and Shingle MILL,

» Circular Saw for Edging,

ng untling, and other purposes, be- o her Saws, with about 50 acres Land, t is under ‘vater. 134 miles vitetown, and 5 chains from the |

of the best Mills on |

Railroa 5 one RICK HOUSE and SHOP, 124) ‘harlottetown, and about 6 or 8 2 railroad station. There wil] | i m 10 to 50 acres of land with it. ; ticulars apply to i

i | par j :

HN ARCHIBALD McDONALD. |

FOR SALE! |

The following Freehola Properties | at the West!

er

GOOD FARM fronting on the MILL £% RIVER, LOT 5, Seventeen Chains,

Cataiaing 120 Acres,

ha'f clear, rest covered with a good growth f Hard 1 Soft Wood. Main road running thro t. There is abundance of Muegel- of the

} 2 i nt

farm. Six miles from Villace of Alberton, and about four mijes from the Railroad Station on the Hals loran Road. This is one of the most desirable Farms West and in a fine sett'ement, and a good place for a Shipyard.

ALSO; A Parm of Sixty Acres,

en the ¢

rf posit

side of the River, similarly

of 60 Aces on the Mill Road, Lot 4.

he

> PIUSVILLE ROAD, Lot 4, \cres each. Cheap farms with small clearances, near the Railroad track.

THE CURRY FARM,

g 120 Acres, situate on the Western | Chains front, 70 acres clear, well | and fenced with cedar, balance

with bardwood and cedar,

Contain Road, 10 i cultivated

} Cv eu

| A HANDSOME DWELLING HOUSE,

finished throuchout, with

27 x 30, well

Kitchen attached 12 x 17, Barn 34 x 41, with Pig house and Sheep house. There is also ancther Dwerzinc Urvge, 16 x 25. This

Farm will be sold with or without the Stock,

avd possession given in Sprio ", or Cropped

end sold with the Crop, delivered next Fall, Terms casy.

—AlLso—

‘The Ritchie Property, at KILDARE CAPES,

and Stable,

W a: ehouse

j on the Gelf Shore, consisting of a Store, Dwelling Louse, built for a Fishing Stetion. Buildings in good order and but two years old.

| For further iofurmeation apply to

GEORGE W. HOWLAN.

Alberton, Feb. 3, 1873.

| AA ee

| moonbears, flowed silently along.

ne

(From Feresl and Stream)

THE SPECTRE MULETEER,

Joun Maucer was a gondolier, On Erie's verdant shore,

His walk was humble, but his gait Was something to adore.

The locksman’s lovely daughter had For him a passion sirong,

And though she was quite short and small He vowed he loved her long,

Love's course is often sweet and mild, And like the limpid wave Of calm canals, whose rippling tides

Their soft embankments lave, But crosses come, as freshets do,

And cruel sires there be, Unteeling guardians whose wards

Are always under key.

ller father’s haughty castle stood Beside the fair Mohawk ;

Ile didn’t lock herin the keep, But kept her in the lock.

‘Think not to wed a driver low! Thou art too rare a prize ;

Canalers to canaille may stoop, But not to wed-lock rise.”

So spake her parent scornfully, The maiden heard in fear,

And when he laughed his horsey laugh She dropped her muleteer.

‘Oh Sarah Jane!” her Jover cried, ‘‘My honest love you scorn,

And since youv’e given me the sack, I'll take itin a horn.”

John Mauler’s manly heart grew weak, For gin and grief soon shook it,

And when his mule kicked in his side He sighed and kicked the bucket.

The lovely-maiden pined away, And said, with many a tear,

«‘ Although he’s gone, hefore, I'll stay, And be his pioneer.”

The locksman lives a changea man With sorrow in his eyes,

For every night his hair truns white, And every morn he dyes,

For in the hour when nature sleeps And bargemen blithely swear,

A grim procession wakens him And elevates his hair.

Aghostly barge,a spectre mule, A phantom driver grim,

3eside the haunted lock are seen, To pass an hour with him.

Ti.cir purpose is a paradox, To make the bloodrun cold,

For though they go without a word, They re waiting to he tolled.

Ard then the spectre barge departs, Along the sluggish pool,

Besides a fleshless driver, and Behind a bloodless mule.

Past Syracuse and Utica. And Ilion’s ancient walls,

And where the mighty Mohawk flows, From Rome to Little Falls.

rill boat, and mule and driver fade Before the sun’s bright face ; The very harness vanishes, Nor leaves a broken trace,

But Richfield convalescents say

That every morn they find Some extra sulphur in the springs,

And brimstone in the wind

MORAL.

To frown on humble love is wrong,

To thwart it is a sin; Don’t ever fool around a mule,

Nor mix your grief with gin.

J.J. Rocue.

LITERATURE. ©

~~

THE SWEDES IN PRAGUE.

CHAPTER V. After a little longer etay at the Observa~- tory, Father Plachy, wishing bis pupil a good night’s res‘, retired; and Albert, as

/ soon as he saw himself alone, hastened to | execute a desizn he bad for some time en-

tertained, and which had received now vigor since Father Plachy had mentioned the affair of the unknown Swedish officer and his eeeret cccapations in Prague.

Witba good telescope, on such a clear moonlight night as the pressnt, the whole of the environs of Prague were within range from the Observatory, and every object around was distinctly visible. even on the water, and to the castle of Troy itself. Should a clandes ine mceting, such as those which haunted his fancy take place tov

| night, he would be easily able to witness it. )nign, y

He might conjure, as it by magic, the faith- less fair before bis pris:ncs, together with her nocturnal vis:tor !

He quickly commenced operations, by fixs

| ing the telescope io a proper position ; and

then, taking his station at the glass, beheld the wal's of the castle of Troy—the steps— and the garden—as if close to him. He was considerably moved at being thus able, al- though so distant, to witness all that passed plainly, yet unsuspected ’y.

The stream, silversd by the slanting All was sil, not a sound arose, save from the temulous motion of the ripples. At that moment he thought he saw somethiug ap» pearamong the thickets on the shore. Ina few moments after, a boat glided from the dark covert; it was rowed across the river by a boatman, and on the central seat cata figure completely muffled up. What would not Albert have given at that moment for a clearer view of the figure! But the uncer- tain light of the moon rendered this im- possible.

At length t'e bout reached the opposite shore. The figure rose, and displayed the form of a tall robust man, holding a naked sword, which glit'ered in the moonbeams. He advanced towards the gardea, the small gate of which opened in an instant, and

| out stepped another dark shape, of seseer

dimensions. That this was a female there could be no doubt. On meeting, they sank intoeach other’s arms; avd Albert eprang im; etuorsly from the telescope.

Thus, then, was confirmed what had been toll by Predetten! Helen really did carry on a clandestine intercourse ; aud it was one of a tender and impassioned nature ! His whole sou] was in uproar; he paced the rcom to and fro, with hasty strides ; be would look no more, and yes the hated scene was still before his eyes, with the shapes of the mas and of the fema'e; which latter he wou'd fain persuade himaelf was not that of Helen. These conficting donbts almost deprived him of the power of breathing. One moment, he covered his face with his hands ; the next he placed his eye at the g'ass. He now thought he could perceive in the dimnese of the fastssinking moon, the objects of his scrutiny alternately retiring and emerging among the cogses. Soon after, tho moon wholly vanished, and no thing more was to be ssen,

The n'ght was, by this time, far advanced, and day approaching ; but to Albert’s eyes came vo sleep. He suffered all the racking pangs cf je lousy, combined with the tor- menta of indecisicn. Was it, in trath, Helen, or was it not ? And who was the lover! Why did their attsehment ehur the

TREN. DeReP

~ PRINCE EDWARD. ISLAND

eye of day and of her relations? Was it conceivable thut Helen could love the enemy | of her country? Yet—had she not betrayed her preference for the Swedea and fer her fellow-believers ? Was it not apparent that she bore the present state of things with impatience? A’) these questions passed through Wallenstei:’s mind, a:d inereased hie agitation. But what if, afver all, it shonld not be Helen? It was not possible for him to recognize the f-male figure so plainly as to bo certain of his unhappivess. Oh, that it were not her! that she were innocent, and still true to her duty! On such a feeble stay as this did he now rest all his love and hie hope.

During this mental st:uggle, the brief summer night reached its close. Already dawn was vis.ble on the opposite side of the Moldavia, and the delicate morning light ttreaked the horizon. Darkness graduully retired, like a shrinking ghost; the stars were blottei from the heavens, and day re- commenced. Suddenly a thought passed through Albers mind. It might now be possible to r-eugnize the unknown female, shou'd she sti remain upcn the shore. fle stepped, hesitatingly, to the telescope. For sowe time he could not :emark anything : the shore was lonely, and the oppos'te castle —every portion of which wa; now distinctly visiblc—lay, at this early hour, in seeming desolation before him. He had not waited long, however, ere something stirred the bushes of the forest, and a boat pushed off, in which sat the unknowr. Our hero coms manded a tull view of this stranger, who, although sea'ed, seemed tail and robust. He saw, likewise, the dark mantle and the sword, which lay unshevthed upon his knee, The features were concealed by the large bat pressed low down uyon the head, and by the black cloak which covered him to the obip.

Another figure almost immediately glided slong the road toward the garden gate. It was Helen! It was Helen, beyond a doubt ! Her form and dress, wiich be knew so well, were before him, looki:g so near, indeed, that he almost fancied he might grasp hor ! A veil which covered her head and shoulders, as well as the circumstince of her back be- ing turned to him, prevented him seeing her features; but, as she hurried slonz, she chanced to look roend for one momeat, with an anxious air, as if to sce if any one were observing her. * Helen!’ exclaimed ths youth, momentarily deceived by her appar- ent proximity. * Helen!’ repeated he ina | reproachiul tone ; and, while even he spake, she vanished through the garden ! | Wallenstein sank intoachiir. The sad | certainty pressed upon him; and, fur eome time, he was iacapable cf eny clear idea whatsoever. Plans for the future, dictated | by anger, together with an undefinable feeling o& degradation, wildly chased each | other through his bosom, until, at length, exhausted nature claimed her rights. His | burning eyes cought rest, and he threw him- | self upon bis couch. Disturbed and unre~ | freshing s'erp succeeded to the violent azi- | tation of his mind, while fancy pictured anew, in hateful connection, the grievous reality of his waking moments.

From this un:ratefal s!umber ke start:d up, and fastening his mantle and sword about him, ta'lied forth to taste the fresh morning air in the garden, which lay un-~ regarded before h’m in all its beauty of shady walke, blooming trees, carol of birds, and murmur of fountains.

For scme time did he wander ab ut among the dewy paths, and, at last, unconsciously entered the square ofth> patace ; taste sing, mec anically, across into tne seeond court passing the cathedral, and leaving the palace behind him, he had now reached George Square, and proceeding in his des scait, found himself at a spot where a low wa!! surrounds the base of the steep beizbt which rises above the Mo'davia. Here he leaned over the parap t, while his eye rovs

on all, yet remarked nothiog—f r the imaze of the loving pair, on the barks of the Mol- davia, was still before him!

Suddenly be beard a seft v ice utter bis name. Turning half unconsciously round, t? see who it could be that intzrrupted him at this hour, and in this solitary plaee, bo beheld a young girl neatly, although simply attired, standing, with a timid air, a few paces bebiad him.

* Who are you ? What do you want with me ?* he somewhat abruptly asked.

The female, retreating a little, declined her head, as she replied, ‘ I am Joanna, the daughter of your steward. Your Lordship does not, perhaps, recollect me.’

Albert, propitiated by the soft tones of her voice, looked more calmly on the young girl, She was pretty, and even something more than that; and her delicate figure appeared to great advaniage by reason of the close-fitting costumein which she was attired. A countenance rather pale, full of the native express'on of innocence and kind- ness, of sweetness and delicacy, beamed out between the ample white frill and the neat cap which scarcely displayed ber beautiful chestnut brown hair. Long eyelids, and dark eye'ashes, shaded a pair of clear hazel eyes, now modestly bent downward, but which had becu previously directed toward the Count with an expression of anxiety. Under ker arm she carried a prayer-book, richly mounted with silver, and to the wrist of her hand was suspended a rosary of precious wood.

‘And what would you with me?’ ins quired Wallenstein, in a friendly tone. At this question the color mounted into the girl's cheeks, she sank her head deep upon her besom avd answered not. ‘ Pray, speak ?’ said Albert. ‘Can I be of any service to you in any way?’

‘Ob, no! no!’ she stammered; ‘ it is not on my own account—’

‘Has atything happened, then, to your father!’ asked Albert, growing rather ims patient.

Joanna blushed stili more deeply; when, summoning effort, she replied, ‘I fear Lord Albert will think me both foolish and bold; but, in proceeding to matins, as I crossed the palace square, you darted past me,—and. pardon me, my lord, for saying it, you Jooked so wan and agitated, with your hair in confusion, your cloak carelessiy thrown over you and your eyes mournful, as iffrom weeping or watching, that I wan terrified. I fancied something disastrous had happened to my father’s dearly-loved master, and I svarcely know how or why—but I followed you!’

‘You are a good and a kiud girl,’ said Wallecsteia ; ‘one importan’, and it is true, painful subject, at preset absorbs all my thoughts and intercst: but fear nothing ; proceed to your matins, Joanna; and,

ing across the river toward the city, gazed |

when kneeling before the boly altar, invoke a bleesi-g upon me. I have need of the prayers of the innocent.’

Teare swelled in Joanna’s eyee, but she endeavored to check thew, for she felt the impropriety of feeling too much agitated. As she made her farewell obeisance, A!beri’s regard dwelt, with peculiar pleasure, on the charming figure before h'm, ‘I thank you, my Lord,’ she said, ‘ for not being displeas- ed with me, and for treating niy childish conduct co kindly. If my prayers might avail, you will be happy indeed !’

‘Farewell,’ cried Wallenetein, kindly ; ‘remember me to your father. You will both soon see me.’

Joanna turaed to ascend the hill ; and, in spite of his abstraction of mind, her young lord foilowed her with his eyes. [le could not help feeling astonished at her graeeful step and noble carriage, and still more that he should not have recognized in her the pretty child who was onc) the companion ot his boyish gambols, and whom he still sonetimes saw at her father’s.

Aroused by Joanna’s remarke, be now cast his eyes on his dress, and could not but admit that its want of arrangement, together with the pa'eness of his countenance (which, after a night like the past, he could well! imagine), were sufficient to account for the devoted girl’s anxiety respecting the mental or bodily hea'th of her Lord. Her appear~ auc>, tegether with ber touching and un affected solicitude, had served agreeably to divert his thoughts; his spirits were insen» sibly roused ; he looked round with a less clouded aspect; arranged his hair. his mantle, and cap, as wellas he could, and ascended the hi!l. Ashe re-entered George’s Square, the bells of the cathedral were ring- ing for matins. His heart felt opened to devout aspiration, while his Heavenly Father spoke to him through the echoing chimes, and invited him to offer up his griefs in prayer, and thus be enabled to bear them with more composure. He obeyed this in. ward impulse, and soon found himself be- neath the venerable pile, the bold form of whose architecture, and its airy and spacious choir, were well calculated to e'evate the soul from earth and earthly sorrows. Op leaving the church he fancied he eaw the figure of Joanna, and, almost without reflec- tion, stood still, that he might allow her to approach. It would seem, however, that he was deceived; he caught no further glimpse of the steward*s fair daughter, and at length slowly descended the palace hill.

Joanna, nevertheless, had seen and been seen by him; but sho was ashamed to meet bim again, for reflection told her that her manner of acting had been unusual, and might be misunderstood. She, therefore, eluded his eye until sbe saw him leave the church in the direction of the outer court of the palace aod then, by another route, she returned home.

On her way, all the circumstances of the past scene were vividly recalled. She dwelt delightedly on Alberi’s complacent kindness, and on his begzing her to pray for him. Alas! ske had indeed prayed for him, not only that day, but on every successive morning and evening for a long pericd. Without knowing it, our bero had, in fact, obtained sovereign sway over the heart of { his youthful playmate, and Albert von Wal. lenstein was to Joanna, ever since she be- came capable of thought, the beau ideal of all manly beauty and perfection. Mean- time, however, she was too prudent to harbor foolish hopes, and far too dutiful to pain her father with the spectacle of his daught~ er gradually languishing from the effects of a hopeless aftection. Thus strictly governed, ber attachment slumbered within her virgin | besom, and Albert’s utter inattention, on his visi's at ber father’s (for he scarcely ever noticed her), facilitated such prudent control. Her secret homage, in fact, had no further sensible influence than merely to render ber cold to other suitors, and firm!y determined to live and die in maiden serenity, since there existed but one Albert von Wallens stein, and h2 could never be hers. This day alone hed sha been surprised iuto forgetful- ness of her silent purpose. ‘ Alas!’ exclaims ed she, half aloud, ‘how pitiable that a man so noble, rich and handsome, should still be onbappy. But | can guess the cause: he loves the proud lady of Troy. Yet, is it possible that any one beloved by Albert van Wallenstein could give him ground of uneasiness?’ These and siwilar reflections occupied Joanna in ha!f sweet half~pensive succession, until she reached the Wallens‘ein Palace.

As she stepped in at the gateway, she pers ceived the tall figure of an unknown man, who, enyeloped in a mantle, and with his back turned toward her, was standing in the mid@le of the court, looking cautious'y rouad him; he then went to ssveral doors, which he tried to open, and on hie non-success, advanced répidly toward the gate. All this, together with the stranger’s endeavors to con- ceal bis features with his hat and cloak, ex- cited Joanoa’s suspicions; she determined to address him, and, in a tone of voice as firm as it was modest, asked, ‘ Whom do you seek, sir?’

The person she addressed stood silevt for a moment, drawing his mantle cloeer; then, having ecanned the appearance of the lovely girl, who at first had taken him by surprise, he courteously replied, ‘ What I sought I have not found; whatI did not seek—one of the Graces— now stande before me.”’ Jos anna interrapted him, and in a grave mans ner replied, ‘Sir, excuse me if I say your jest is unseasonable ; I am daughter to the steward of the palace, and it is in the pers formance of my duty I make the inquiry of you,’ As she spoke she strove, with somes thing of the natural curiosity of her sex, to gain a sigit of the stranger's features, but could discover nothing save a psir of flashing eyes, arched by thick, bushy eyebrows

‘What has led me here,’ replied the stranger, ‘ is jast what leads you to ask, my pretty maiden—curiosity ; the wish to view and examine a house, which, if only on acs count of the builder, must be interesting to every Bohemian.’

‘If that be your object, you must follow me, and apply to my father.’

‘Stop! stop!’ exclaimed the stranyer; ‘there ispo hurry. Pray remain a moment here with me, added he, as he enw that Jo, anna was moving towards the small postern leading to the garden.

She replied not, but went on.

‘Little obstinate!’ cried the man, ‘ will you not stay?’ and with these words he seized her by the arm.

Joanna tore herself from bim, and, meas- uring the unknown irom bead to foot, ex- claimed with indigaant voice, ‘ Venture not again to touch me, coward, or I will bring

chastisement upon you.’

MONDAY, JANUA

tinea . sil acenacaiaines

a

NO. 4

The ma. aug! ed. *C_astisement! ’ echo- ed he, in a j-ering tone; and stepping fors ward he stretched out his arm to lay hold of her, upon which Joanna retreated, callinz aloud, ‘ Father—U!rich!’ and at that mos ment her father and an old domestic rushed into the court.

The intruder now turned, and, with heavy strides, left the place.

‘Pursue him !’ cried Joanna, ‘he is bere for no good purpose,”

The two oid men did 80, but had no chance agaist the stranger's comparative youth and ce'erity. When they came to the gate they just caught a glimpse of him as he vanished down a side stréet

‘Who was this man ?’ inquired the father on his return. Jcanna related what had passed, adding that she thought she had seen the Imperial uniform under his mantle.

That is likely enough ; these German of. ficers aie very bold. But itstrikes me I have already seen this person; and, if I mistake not, it Was among the workmen who are re- pairing the fortifications, to whom he gave a world a trouble. There he was, pacing backward 1d forward, and asking all sorts of questions such as how long they had yet to work? what wes to be done? and what, for the present, to be left undone? Then he stepp-d aside, and I thought I saw him commit something to writing. In short, I take him to be neither more nor lees than @ spy.’

‘Ih is certainly strange,’ said Joanna ‘ bere, too, I met with him, occupied in examining the palace on every side, and trying every door.’

‘Weat so:t of features had he?’ asked her father, ‘to-day I scarcely saw him.’

‘Ashe retieated his mant'e flew open,’ replied the maiden, ‘and enabled me to view him quite plainly ; he seemed a robust, strong man, of middle age, with large fea- tures, and fiery eyes’

‘Your deseriptior,’ rejoined the father, ‘ correspo..ds exactly. Ido not think he is a Bohemian, for! heard him speak the purest German with one of the workmen ’

‘His features appear Bohemiar.’

‘No, no, d>pend on it he is a German,’ reiterated tee old man, with a good deal of asperity ; ‘it is always they who bring mis- fortune and m’sery upon us But now, go to your chamber, Joanna, for I must look round @ little in the bouse and gardens. The Count sent yesterday to inform ms that he should come to-day, and that I mu t be prepared.’ So saying, he ascenied the great steps.

Joanna was at once overjoyed an! embar~ rassed at this confirmation of Albevi’s part ing anncuncement. She retired and dressed hereelf carefully, yet not so much so ag te ex- cite her father’s observat'on, and then awaits ed the arrival of the Count Miqgay, how~ ever Came, and dinnerstime passed by, withs out his appearing. The hot hours of the afterncon succeeded, during which Joanna kept within her chamber. From the win-~ dow that looked out into the guden, she could see, while seated at her work, every one that entered; still, Ac came not. The sun Was now setting, and the shades of « ven- ing descanded. ‘The uneasiness of disaps pointed expectatior, as well as the cooler seaion, called Joanna away from her work, which, otherwise, would have occupied her all day. She stepp-d out ou the open espace in front of th» hall, and conte njlited the scene of her javenile sports and aniuses ments. The frescospa niinss, representing the wer o' Troy, which Albert had often expiained to the two gir!s, in Lis account of the fate of Hector— (whom she had always mentally compared with Walleast ») —call~ ed forth warm tears from her eyes. How different was everything now! Her youth- fal playfel!ow had become a man, and heir to the greatest part of Friedland possession ; acd thus his sphere of life was far, far above that of her former friend. ‘Ah! why could it not ever have remained as then!’ sighed she. Turning away from the hall, a.d s't- ting down, *8 the evening gradually threw her dusky stades over the fowersted opposite the fountain, she slumbered —and was avakend, a8 from a dream, by the sportive playing of the waters; for her father had caused the garden to be freshly adorned, and the fountains to be set flowing, in honor of the Count’santic'p ited visit.

oom + -

IMMIGRATION TO ONTARIO,

Few circumstances connected with the material progress of the country are more cheering and satisfactory than the increas - ing immigration from abroad to Canada, the major part of which, as might be ex- pected, finds its way to the Province of Ontario. The numbers of immigrants re- ported from the several agencies as having remained in Ontario in 1872 and 1873 re- spectively are as follows :—

1872. 1873.

Ottawa Agency.......... wore ee 3,510 I: =. ncpeetenepiiieen 4,865 4,956 I. de aoukte seein 10,119 13,523 SE, F, schscknpven send 11,049 13,164 IE i. Oa sheddiomeseailiptieine 3,738 28,129 38,891

The following have been the numbers of immigrants who have remained in Ontario during the four years just expired :—

ee ee 15,893 Dick iicilinkendaiineeaimuen 25,290 ta dalcpeeacunae 25,842 7 aOR istemamena: 28,129 BS kcetisktpuisautiineniainaae

It will be seen by this that the immigra. tion of 1873 was 22,998 in excess of 1869; 13,601 above that of 1870; 13,049 over 1871; and 10,762 better than 1872. It has to be recollected, too, that the state of the labor market in Great Britain has re- cently been exceedingly unfavorable to a large emig:«tion, all classes there having enjoyed an unusual degree of prosperity.

The immigrants who have arrived in 1873 have been, to a large extent, therefore, from the class who emigrate from choice rather than absolute necessity. The gener- al quality of the immigration has been as satisfactory as the increase in the number of arrivals.

The improvement furnishes the most effective answer that could be supplied to the persistent attempts to depreciate the efforts of the Department and to damage the reputations of its officers. When all the arrangements now is progress are coms pleted, and the farmers of Ontario are fully alive to the advantages the measures of the Government have secured for assisting and promoting immgration, we have no doubt these welcome additions to our industrious population will be far greater than even in the year just closed.— Toronto Glove.

THE FALL OF THE LEAF.

Many persons think that when the leaves | turn re and yellow in the fall it is because | they have been killed by the frost. Buta little observation will show that such is not the case, and that the autumns when the leaves are most beautiful are those in which the frost is the latest. This has been notably the case this year.

A severe frost kills the leaves at once, and they soon fall, brown and withered. To be brilliant they must ripen naturally, and our hot September and October mid- day suns have probably much to do wita it; as in England, where the falls are apt to be damp and cloudy, the leaves are not a0 bright, and American artists, who strive to paint our maples and dogwoods as they see them, are unjustly accused of over- coloring.

The leaves fall because they are ripe and have performed the service that was allotted them. The leaf is the laboratory of the plant, and in it are performed most of the operations essential to its growth. It takes the crude materials gathered by the roots, refines them, rejecting all that is not essential to the plant, and out of the remainder construct the highly complex bodies that are found in other parts of the plant. These rejected parts consist mainly of earthy matter that was in solution in the water taken up by the roois, and it is deposited in the cells of the leaf. This is shown by the fact that the leaf contains far more ash than any other part of the plant. In some plants the ash of the leaf amounts to over 20 per cent., while that of the wood rarely exceeds two or three. When the cells become completely clogged up with this matter, the leaf can no longer perform its functions, and so ripens and falls oft. Provision has already been made for this separation, If the foot~stalks of most leaves be examined, it will be found that a kind of joint exists near the body of the plant, even when the leaf is quite young ; as it grows older this joint becomes more marked, and finally when it is ripa a gentle breeze will shake it off, and no wound is left, nothing but the scar; the wound has healed even before it was made, The same is also true of fruits, which by botanists are regarded as nothing but de-

found in the stem, at which it separates readily. This is very marked in the grape; it is situated at a little swelling that is to be found on the sicm. A slight bend will separate the stem at this point, while it takes a strong pull to sever it above or below. Even on the evergreen trees, which apparently never shed their leaves, the leaf exists at the most but two or three years, when they are replaced by new ones, the old falling away as they become unfit for active duty; but the leaves in this case being shed mostly in the spring, we do not miss them.—Jour. of Chemistry.

THE GENERAL ELECTIONS AND

BUSINESS.

A general election means general paraly- sis of business for a month or more, and should not be resorted to except in case of clear necessity. The present election has caused some irritation and annoyance among business men, because the imme> diate necessity for it is not, they think, ap- parent. No one denies that the new government has a right to appeal to the constituencies «gainst a hostile House of Commons, or that it might have done so immediately on taking office. But there was certainly no necessity for the double elections that will now take place in cons stituencies represented by ministers, Bruce and Lambton, and a number of other cons stituencies, including West Toronto, will be pat to unnecessary trouble, and the country to avoidable expense. If the late Tiouse of Commons deserved dissolution for the corruption of its origin, that was as true before the late ministerial elections took place as it is now. If the new Minis~ try could not depend upon being supported | init, this was as true and as well ascertained at first as it is mow. In case of defeat in the House, the Ministry would have had the best of reasons for an appeal to the country. These are the public and consti- tutional reasons. The dissolution must have turned upon considerations of a wholly different nature. From the fact of the ministerial elections taking place as they did, it was conclusive that there was then no determination to call a general election. The idea seems to have been born of the success obtained in these elec- tions, and the general indications thev afforded that an appeal to the country would tell in favor of the new men.