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 W. ^5? •^«F9 piB;^«**T5* »â- "'""'•? v^^rr' 11! SACRIFICE .BERT, Underu ed witliMr. Gilbt, â- eliable in hia gu] B. S. JAM£S, r ^ig-gist, Hamilton. M1' OK, ,:,Al'll--'L' XXXIII. „Q to Mrs- Graliame'd to- " •""' vuiiikl that eveniug at din- 'â- """"mViiliis^iue-glassana looking â-  '" bri^'iit â- ^'th shining silver ./lass ^t Muriel. Rus'sel. I proaiised P '„i;r come ^lle is very auxious nso J uess 6 J, '"-^,eet"'l'jr brother' and his â- ^" " e" ou I'r^in Caicago. Have /ip-a-cmtnt lor this evening, ,„,,,-^ • aii3v^e:-ed ihe gi'-l. sim- ,ijet; it has been since the be- p"' Uul" coi.tinu'id Muriel, sugar- ,^,r ,!elica:ely '-there is posjtive- .iJi HAS UETUP^fEg enod a StudiO, Si ra.it^inoillifesizq o=;t desisjna- beaf 1 Kins^- Toronto. rS TO MANTTOBJ ' i' K. will betta r baggasre checti nnipeg Station, m] o to transfer oagi i nndersignedj"' and settlers' effect inipeg.atanyboj^j any other traMW ar-age and Esprf ncos Hon UM" Clements M.r-'^v M. P. P., an^," intySimcoe^' 3ros.j rANTS.TEUSTEESiC ist, T'-ironto. ?ocuring parmjl ,nd sale of on* I-' 'â- "'" "'..'ul, "J on' lu society. Don't t """ fr so^'iahles. Louie, and Mrs. p;" .â-  iileisiiut; little Germans "' " 'c u'r.-c," said Louie, "but it "" "'r uioe I -hiuk to be quiet for "Tbf'ievJ Iwas getting tiied out â- â-  -ut a;ter night. However, all --- '"'V" 'iiiuk alike. I met Mrs. Van •^ 'â- "'„',,.-' out of church tiiis moruing, â- â- "li ,i'inc ;f I liiii '^^ thak Lent -â- ""'e'^.o early this year." ';K,-,f iau-i:e.lMuiiel, " It is al- [!. ",;.. is .-uc.i a scrict Episcopalian, """(.'i,-;y society aod eveiything â- â- â€ž'"•" i!^^â- ' uuich. But won't you â- â- â- ' ";;,^ eve 111!-' Louie, home "l" J c a -ill' J"« ' y^^^' f "iends will â-  .. likely soii.e onu will drop in, â-  •' -i;i if uuicKiy comes I shall not â- â-  I'j'iuU ri-:id, orliud somelhing to 'â- .ivtuc time." *â- ',â-  ,;,^. truth Loui hoped no one "'ll's;'.cv.autctl to be aioue to think "rnoV'liappiu'-Si' that came to sud- 'n-o litr htc, to try and decide how 'â- â- i,ltell i'eicy Evriugham that which ^â- tfwould briu;' him sorrow and pain. fjte.enin^, when her father and nioth- [itlttiieiiouse, slie went into the quiet Itv' ami closing the heavy doors after 'r'tJ liersell in a huge 'chair in front Slie had no book, no fancy work, Ite hill thoughts enough to keep her jiiiil been so perfectly unconscious he feelings s'le entertained for Roy a re were uuy warmer than those of a l-e:ni:iiisliip, tiiat she could not quite .â- â- i.ltlie kiK'W.edge that had so un- l:-.ily come upon her. Yet she knew [k/jVOiI liiinâ€" had loved him from the .•.-;ind ahe wondered sorrowfully l,;,ecuiild iijve been so blind as not to Lcwu lieart inure pla-nly. For her Liicesi ^he reproacaed her elf bitter- ii-ii'lut'itmly seeu it all before, then ;,,;;liavc tdul Percy gently, teuder y ,a-. ;he iiaJ gone ou hoping she had Icrn:!.- crcouraged him, had answered ill I allowed hun to think that Lifer wo.dd bp yesâ€" ah that A'as the Iran CI It. He was coming to her now \uai lie was already on his way, his r.i.eii\vith love for her, and beating l\i::h hope. For she had given him :e had reason to believe that she tt.l him that she would be his w.fe. Heart was aching as it had never liiieiove, as the s-at there before the L.-kini;. She had always thought it I :•;« nio3t cuiitemptible and heartless ^iw;maii could do, to lead on a man, ig he loved her, making him believe l;!t;ice she would consent to be his L^'aiaj; oat hope and encouragement ittiieeuii, throwing him off, saying ivv.iyo: exouse, '"i thought I loved lead that I have made a mistake." (iir.*ver been able to make any excuse Li course of action; it ha i seemed Inhtawomau capable of such a thii g 'X lacking every sense of truth and l:;muow the very thing she had al- Titspised and considered uupirdonable l-ffishe had done herself. She could pe Percy if he bhould think her heart- 1 cruel she could not say one word r«n defeacc i: he should say, " Why |- a3t tell i.ic before, Louie H'jw Itt ms 'fi) on liopiug as I have He \fual.i not underst-iud â€" nor ta:,\\)aeâ€" if siie should tell what was "â- "-thatshe hu.d been all unconscious â-  i^c lor Hoy Glenmore. No, they f »i:hi;ik She had acted untruly, un- -v- I'duy vvi.uld :!iiiik so, her father l-ier uci.ld think so, Al ne would ^;;an'ie\i-n liiy, when i.e came to â- â- --' ly, wlio vvas so nob'.eand true â- i, â- "â- â€ž; 1.' jki;;^' sob Louie laid her :--'-he;ii:i, l her chair, her tears â- *â- â- '• it i.a.i a;l been a mistake. God â- -tadnot uie^^ut to deceive Percy. â- â- 'tiia: whu; \\.v\ b.-en 'ione had been -oiaii.e. lier grief wa deep and [â- â- â€¢â- â- chad. a tc.der, .sympithetic heart â- 7 true oi-u, and ii hurt her cruelly ».:i"u rj. ,;;,..:â-  vf j^ive Pi;rcy pain and "'-i" -i;- i:-,d l.^eu iunoc'jntiv untrue '"^uati'.r.-. ^â- ;f *aj l,.-r ...^.j reverie that she did â- â- "'TJk-k sfpp in tiie hall, the open- |;'-ftiea\y :;ij,ai-ydoor she was not .â- â€¢1- tilt re Wi-i am one save herself in r"il a hairi M-as laid lightly npon j -^ tead, a voice, anxious and tender. ed of, W»* Uilin;. are yon c.-ying " â- â- Â«, Di; d: j,*_ ';-"^^ cry si.e raised her" head, r.',*!"^-' ^^"'inghara standing b side ' r'l' ,*^° dropped on his P.'^i his kncea arras around hor, saying, r|,;s the matter, Louie Whv are Tn-g so bitterly 7" .,'?^hertc.;ir.,,,;: face to his almost ^f-alent, tot knowing what to Y*i\ p"'H^ "° *^'ty aboat an hour I'iit 1 '"" "' ^^^y ^^ explanation, r-ibiiM""""" ""' P'Cting the true KsoffiT" "" thinking she had ex- "Iwtv "^^""^PP inimentor troa- «•««••••.(* â- 5jtJ' ' t^® ^Viadsor, t en c .•5jSm5 K;S;±;'^^°- tol'l.me that:: ?lCi?"'" here, sol came in nit;-,-, â- â€¢surprise y„u did you get N,t^ lu-^i at th3 handsome iiot L"?S„S^ri^\;?eref r;^ ^^P^ eye, voice, .tartled him. teethe fl?*K*H^" of h.s face as he Sd '" °^ 'lie S^ --' "'.^g^f yt^' " •uld, but ed away „„ ucr ups. ana she on] as she clasped her hands together Oh, Percy, Percy!" hisS"^Hi'7°^^'""°^' ^^" Restarted to ' 'Lome, what do you mean You surelv cannot mean that after having giving m^ etters and answermg them, encouraging me. leading me to believe tha^ you would 1^ m^ w I.e. that nowâ€" no. no, Louie, you cannot could b^ Ji:°"?*^* to teU him gently as she could, bat the words would not come • thev t:i^z?yj^^^'^^- ,^^ sheo^;;^oaLed^ now mean that." It was just as she had expected it would ie, yet she knew not how to answer him • it would seem so smill and mean to say, in an- swer to his passionate outburst. " It was i mistake, Percy." Still, she must say something, and though her lips were quivering, she r.ised her face bravely. "I thought I knew my ova heurt better t.aan I did, Percy." "You mean that you havj iliscovered that you uo not love me that while I have been patiently waiting, fondly hopinc, vo'i have been thinking' the matter over, and have come to the conclusion that you will not be my wife. Is that it, Louie Answer me " I do not think men know how cruel they are, sometimes, to the women they love thtre seems to be, in masculine natures, a latent cruelty that will crop out now and then, as most wives and mothers and sisters can testify. Really and truly, Percv did not know how coldly and sternly he had spoken, how tightly his lips were compressed, how dark an 1 stormy his eyes were; but Louie knew, and she shrank back in her chair as though he had struck her. He had never spoken so to her before, nor looked at her as he was looking now. 'â- Oh, Percy, do not speak like that I did not know^not until to-day â€" that I could not be your wife." He heard htr words distinctly â€" she cauld not be his wife. Poor Percy, he nad cherished such bright hopes, had built so many beautiiul castles, and now th hopes were suddenly shattered, the castles hurled to the ground. There was no anger in his heart, nothing but pain and bitter disap- pointment tlie stormy darkness died out of his eyes, his lips, so tightly com- pressed a moment before, quivered with almost a sob he spoke, his voice hopeless and despairing. "Ah, Louie Louie, I love you so." Then folding I is arms upon the mantel- piece, he dropped his head upon them. A storm of reproaches could not have touched Louie's heart as those few words did. Huiryinc to his side, she laid her hand upon his arm. " Try and forgive me, Percy," she sobbed, " you do not know how sorry I am. I did not mean to give you any false hope to de- ceive you in any way. I thought when you caiTle back to me for mj answer I could tell you yes, and only tc-day â€" only a few hours ago, I discovered " She paused, the tears clinging to her long lashes, she cjuld not tell him what she had discovered, that would be adding ins'alt to injury, as the old -saying goes. He raised his handsome Saxon head with a deep sigh. Ali her words could not make lees haid to bear the fact that she had re- fused him. "Louie," he said, mournfully, " is it be- cause during my absence some one else has won what I had hoped to win, that you tell me now you cannot marry me " The painful flush that stam.'d her face, mounting to the very rootsof her cold-brown hair, answered him, and he bowed his head dejectedly, feeling that life wa.' a miserable farce and the sooner i: was played out tiie better. A pause followed, an awkward, embarras- sing pause Louie, very sorrowful, feeling in some way guilty, and finding it exceed- ingly difficult to keep from cryiug. Percy, quite broken-hearted, wondering gloomily to himself what he should do with his life. Percy was proud and ju»t a little bit egotis- tical, anft t.is amour propre had been sorely wounded he felt that lie had been very bad- ly treated indeed, and though he did not blame Louie, he did biame circumstances and fate, and above all, his unknown "a inan who has just been refused is not gpnerally-uo matter what he may be at other times-p-irticularly brilliant or ani- mated poor disconsolae Percy was no ex- ception .^ the rule; he sat in B"ence, his head resting upon one hand "^^^^^^^^^^ hopelessly sad look upon his face that it was more than Louie could bear and she said brokenly, choking down a sob which tnreat- enedto^stran^leher, 'Percy won't you try and forgive me?" «• if ;= • ' Yes Louie. " he answered sadly. it is not you; fault, it is only "^7 ""f;"""?*^^ you'cannot love me I hope you wdl always tm verv i appy, und 11 as »ny mn^ s'^ourd'bo a^?thing I could fo jor you. yon will let me doit, won't yen? for tbf^"« °^ mvâ€" for our friendship s sake. And then ?ercy hastily swallow^ a great lump m his throJt a^d Zid he guessed he wouli «o, as Louie looked fatigued. Poor fello*. he loved 'Louie ^erytr^^e 1, J fclt ^rv lorrj tot bim be«in» h. bjd hina, a»" » ter disappointment upon him. he^rSrokfa little w^yjlj^^^ -^»^-- but after a^**"® '^^-P^'^yLily no;^Md %tt iu the library, andlhiiMung Lome irai there, walked in. followed aft^ » noamt Dj ArandeL aJ^^^^' thought you would be in hed, ♦k i mnrmnred, as she tiiook oflf aod threw down npon a chair her doak. " We had a very pleasant ereniog. Mrs. Grahame's water u charming, soâ€" Why, child, what u the matter?' for she had" c«ught sight of Ljuie's face, paie and worn withcrying. llPercy. has been here, mamma." Percy Evringham!" exclaimed Muriel in surprise "and why did he not sUy?" and then a glimmer of truth seemed to dawn upon her, for she said hurriedly •^Louie, did you send Percy away " ' He came for his answer," said the girl, wearily_8he was completely worn out with nervous excitement "and I could only tell him no." Before Muriel could speak, Arundel had risenirom the chair into which he had care- lessly thrown himselt. There wer? tense lines about hii mouth his eyes were flashing ominously.' "=Doyou mean to say you told Percy Ev- rmgham you would not be his wife?" hesa-d, and the words came through his clinched teeth. In his mad, reckless college days his chums used to say, speaking of Arundel Anthon. " When you see tlie vein in his forehead swell, look out for him. ' Thevein in his fore- head was swollen now. " Yes, papa." "\e:: you know it was my wish that you should marry him. You have deceived me, for you led me to believe that you would ac- cept him you have disobeyed me, for I de- sired you to tell him you would marry him. How dare you thus run counter to my wishes and commands I tell you I will have neither disobedience nor deceit from you." In ju;t such a passion as was rising with- in him, Arundel had dealt the blow which had sent Percy Evringham into eternity. Poor Louie, she had been sorely tried that eveniug but tired and heartsick as she was, the words fired her. She raised her small head proudly, her tears all gone, a bright spot upon either cheek, her eyes blazing. " I did uot mean to disobey or deceive you, ' she said " but 1 found that I did not love Percy, therefore I told him I could not marry him. I wii never marry a man I do not love, not even to please you." " Hush, Louie I" said iiuriol, implor- ingly " how can you spek so to your father?" • But Arundel said not a word â€" he turned away shivering. For out of the brown eyes ablaze with such indijhation Russel had looked upon him, and ie dare not an- swer the girl who at that uoment was so marvelously like the father she had never seenâ€" the father who had leen so teiribly wronged. CHAPTER XX5IV. When Mrs. John Doming iound herself at the age of thirty-five, a wdow with two children, aged respectively thirteen and eleven, to educate and provide for, and very little in the world except the handsome house which her husband had given her in the palmy days of prosperi/y, long before his riches had taken to themselves wings and flown away, bhe said to heiself with com- mendable bravery, when sie had rallied from the shock which her hveband's failure and consequent sudden death had dealt her. ' 'I will take care of the children and my- self. I will keep the houseâ€" and I shall take boarders." It was a ary brave reso- lution, for Mrs. Deming had never had any reason to believe the time wsuld ever come when she would be left without means of support but. then, in thesedaysof upsand downs, when the man who is at the top of the ladder to day, is prostrate on the ground to-morrow, one never knows what one is coming to. God helps those who he'ps themselves, and he had helped brave little Mrs. John Demin" In a short time her handsome house was filled with peopleâ€" eonfe of them her own pt rsonal friends, tie rest friends of those whe had known Johi Deming when he was a rich and prosperom man people of wealth and refinement, wh) paid munifi- cently for the pleasant home ihey found un- der Mrs. Deming's roof. Mrs. Deming liked all herboar^'ers, but especially did she like two gSatlemen-oae youns, the other quite au eldely man â€" who I ad been with her now for nea-ly two years, and who, the night after Louii Anthon had told Percy Evringham she cotld rot be his wife, were alone together in their sitting- room. It was very bright ail cheerfulâ€" that handsomely furnished ntting-room, with a, warm, homelike air ibout it, to which the crackling grate fire the creamy lace window-curtains, the winewlored man- tel and door-draperies, the ^en uprig:t piano, and the ccutre-tabU-. cosered with a crimson cloth and strewn^.ith toks, maga- zines and papers, contributed hgely. On one tide of the table, seaed in a huge easy-chair, his head resting upn the cush- ions his eyes fixed upon the facklmg fire with an expression in them Wich told he was thiidiiJig very earnestly, ws the young man, who was no other than Ry Glenmore; and opposite to him, looking otr one of the daily newspapers, the lig .t olthe argand lamp falling Upon his face, frdi which the expression of patient sorrow «nld be lift- ed never this side of the grave sat an elder gentlemanâ€" the man who fornearly rine- tten years had been known as Bchard Uran- Ann He did not look very much (jder than he had done the night he had seenttnnel at the theatre-sorrow had aged hid not years. At thirty.four he had looked Ity-now at fi-fsy-two people took him to b. somewhere between fifty-five and «xty. lere :8.otb. ing nobl^.r than to suffer and betrongâ€" that is what Rnsael Anthon had dee all these .ears, had snfiFered and had b#n strong- BtroS? in patience and true ^ff '^««' strong to lift -up and help alon^hose of h« Sow men who bad fallen byle roadside, itwng to act according to thebtateBot his S^al noble heart -and he h£ suflferod in S^nortion to his strength ^n strangers lo the lines about his *nth, drawn there by fierce mental agony, he moomful darkness of his eyes. ' There was 8omethingmyst3rtu3ab-ut h.m even to those who knew him l^t-thia sad- mTd^i his boybbod and cf y manhood. He did not seem to have » single rdative nor • friend who knew anything abont hi early life and paofle iriio were ^ven to thinking more about ether pei^le's aSsin than they did about their own â€" and than are many such in the world â€" spent much time thinking about him, wondering what manner of sorrow it â- was that had brought upon his face the shadow which rested ao darkly there, wishing they knew how and where his early manhood had been passed, and what the real relationship was between him and Roy Glenmore. StiU no one â€" sot eren the worst old fxtssip â€" could associate any though of sin tr shame with a man whose daily life was as blameless as was Richard Brandon's. So the years had come and gone, and he had been and was still an enigma to a great many people. He ha 1 been very successful in business, or rather bis superior abilities, Lis fore- thought, and the careful attention I e gave the most minute details, had met with a just reward. Before Robert M frehead's death he had teen taken into the firm, now he was the real head of the large and prosperous business. " It ougl-it to Le Brandon Dis- brow," Mr. Disbrow said to him repeatedly, "you are the heail of the firm." And he an- swered always, "It is best that it should be as it is, Disbrow Co." Only God knew how much good he did with his money he was always ready with substantial aid and kindly encouragement. Many were the poor sad souls which had grown glad at the sight of the noble, patient face many were the faint, \veary hearts which his vrords had strengthened he had raised so many out of the dust, he had set so many on their feet again, and what is more he helped them along until they were able to go alone; and that ii the on y true charity. For it is no earthly use to pick up anyone who has not the strength to stand alone, they only fall again. And Russel Atrthon knew, what a great miiiy charitably iiijlined people do not think of, that it is not necessary to go down to the lowest dregs of society to find those who need help. So for eighteen years he had been living, striving humbly to do what good he could dOj finding peace in helping to keep burning in other hearts the fircpf happiness that had gone out forever in hifiown. Sitting before the fii^e, Roy was thinking of Louie Anthon. That she loved him he knew, and a deep, glad thankfulness filled all his heart. He felt, rather than knew, what her answer would be when he should ask her to be his own dear wife but first ho must go to her father â€" for Roy had a deep sense of honor and justice, and he would have no more thought of asking Louie to give herself to him without having first gained her fathei"s consent, than he would have thought of going into that gentleman's house and carrying otf any of his costly worldly possessions. And tuppose by any chanca Mr. Anthon should not be willing to give his daughter to him. As that thought came to him, Roy sat upright in his chair, a little cloud set- tling upon his handsome face. It was an un- pleasant thought, very. Roy wished with all his heart tliat it had not insinuated itself into his mind; but there it â- was. and it seem- ed to say with the most disagreeable frank- ness. "It is barely possible. Roy Glenmore, that it might happen." Roy sank back in his chair again and fell to wondering what he should do if Mr, Anthon thould refuse to give his consent. Would Louie marry him against her parents' wishes Would he ask her to be his wife if her father had told him with his own lips that he did not care to have him for a son-in- law? They were very discouraging, thes*; thoughts but suddenly Roy remembered that they were only thoughts, ouly his own imaginings it was time enough to cross the bridge when he should come to it; it was foolish and unmanly to fret and worry about something which was not likely to happen, and having come to this sage conclusion, he wheeled his chair around and took up the evening paper, which lay upon the table. But there did not seem to be anything of in- terest in that paper. Roy looked through all the columns and could find nothing in the least degree entertaining, and after reading a few of the jokes and deciding in his own mind that the people who had originated them were the lineal descendants of donteys, he took his lead pencil out of his pocket and began to embellish w.th sundry curves and dashes the heavy black letters which an- nounced to the world that the newspaper in question was the New York Hav- ing ornamented them to his fatisfaclion he fell to scribbling uuoa the margin at the top of the paper, until he suddenly awoke to the fact that thii ocsnpation was, to say the least, exceerJingly boyish, and thiowing the paper asiiiehe aro.'-e from the chair, and sit- ting down at the piano begin to play iiits of dreamy music and snatches of fashionable valses. An air particularly cweet â€" a little soui; from an opera botiffe just a*; that lime very popular â€" caught Richard Brandon's atten- tion, and raising his head from his paper he listened to it, his eyes growing very tender as they rested upon Roy's graceful, well-knit figure. How he had loved him from the time he had first seen him, had taken him a little four-year-old boy in hia arms, and promised to take care of him But for Roy his desolate life would have been iatolerable to him he was only human, and be could not have gone on living all these weary years had it not been for the love, and trust, and confidence Roy had given him so freely. Few fathers loved their sons as he loved, and bad always loved, Glenmore, and he was justly proud of him. Surely he had dona hia duty by Henry Glenmore's child by careful investments he bad more than doubled his fortune, and he had mada outof the pretty, aflfectionate boy, a true-hearted man, with noble, high-sopled impulses, and strength to meet and overcome the tempta- tions of the world. (TO BE CONTIXUED,) The fishing parties up the Ottawa River this t-eason, most of whom are now return* ing, report their catch to have been very good. The fa ignes of fishing through holes in the ice have been amply compensated, they cODsid r. by the prices obtained lor their fish. Owing to the fishery regulation, there has been less fishing than usual for ex- portation, the object of the department be- ing to encourage home consumption in this d strict. Noi 4Mdf ifttlie^yaof g9iKl;|aetaBess and- eari^, bat very bineh ia{«r ia 6nr Ins- tory, early marriaieM were alhwed jp^o take an in a t »n c e in the Geoigianpaiod, thu en- try is in "TheChroDOlogicJkl Diary" appen-d ed to the Hut»rieal Seguttr, volume six. for the year 1721, June 8 " Charles Powel. of Canaartbeii, Esq., of about 11 Years of Age, marry'd to a Daoghtcr of Sir Thomas Po«el, of Braadway, Bart., deceas'd, aged abont 14." The young lady's only brother bad died on March 21 preceding. Often did a guardian having control of a wealthy ward find it convenient not to delay the promo- tion of a mairiase of the ward with one of his own kith and kin, though not always by any means was it considered necessary that there should exist between the couple the sentiments which induced Dickens' " voung gentleman not 8 years old to run away with {I fine young woman of-7." I may mtn- tion a similar instance which occurred near- ly 130 years later than the marriage to which H. refers, in a family which my mo- ther now represents, viz.. the Shaw*, of Ballytweedy, County Antrim. Henry Shaw (son of John Shaw, of ISalJytweedy, and grandson of Capt. Sh w. High Sheriff for County Antrim. 1793, uho was attainted by King James's Parliament was marrie I in the year 1721 to his cousin Mary, (only child of Patrick Shaw, of Brittas, County An rim) when "neither of them was yet 15 years old;" and the old document from which I am now quoting goes on to say that the father of this equally precocious bride- groom " continued to manage for the young couple, and had not long survived their com- ing of age. " Their eldest child was born in 1723. Henry Shaw died in 1775. a year after the birth of his great-grandson, Tho- mas Potter, of Mount Potter, County Down. An instance of early marriage even more curious than that mentioned by H. is the marriage of Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas, Lord Chfl"ord. of Skipton Cittle. in the fifteenth century, to Sir Robert Plump- ton, tf Plumpton Castle. The bride was 6 years of age, and the briJegroom not much more. The husband died three years after marriige, and the "wi low" was united to his brother William when she had gained the age of 12 years. Dodsworth pre- served for us the documeut from which the above information is given in Whitaker's "History of Craven." â€" N otns and Queries. BuK Uaking In Mlrzaporc, India. In the dirty mud hut. s of the villagers it is most interesting to observe the slow yet regular growth of the beautiful patterns as developed by the busy, untiring hands of a dozen or more half-naked natves, and which the visitor traces in imagination to their future display in the atti active windows of Regent street or Broadway, and eventually to the chambers of Western homes,' As the native quarter of the city is ap- proached, the busy wool carders, the spin- ning of the native women, the labyrinth of dyepots, the dyeing yarns of various colors in the sunhgnt, bespeak the industry of the place. The huts, of common structure and one materia.!, mud, contain but one apart- ment. Sunk in the ground to a depth of two or three feet is a long roller of wood, perhaps six inches ia diameter and three or four yards in length, supported at either end by iron rods, and movable at pleasure upon this shaft the rug is rolled as the wo k advances atrached to the roller, and ex- tending to the beams above, are the close, stiong thread of the warp, and in tl e rear, suepended from the ceiling, with hanging ends at a convenient distance, are countless balls of yarn of varied color .ind shade; be- neath these sit the native workman and boys. Immediately opposite, at the front of the hut, sea:ed upon a mat, is the pattern reader or overseer, while upon the ground before him is the reversed pattern of the rug whose manufacture he so skilfully directs it require? tlie closest attention, rapidity of thought, sight and unflagging •application on his part to keep the dozen or more men before him busy, for not a thread is woven but at his direction or verbal or- dei-, as calling each workman by name or noting his position, he orders the number and color of the yams to be used, as he traces them upon the jiattern at his feet. The workman in the rear seizes the end of the yarn called, \7eaves the number ordered, the substance is driven home by an iron comb, the rough edges clipped, and the I rug roUs on to completion, every thread of wool and every stitch by hand. I Sensible Sentences, Don't be whining-about not having a fair chance. Throw a sensible man out of a win- dow, he'll fall on his feet and ask the way to his work: Tue more you have to begia with the less you will have in the end. Money you earn yourself is much brighter than any you can get out of a dead man'.s bags. A scant breakfast in the morning of life' whets the appetite for a feast later in the day. He who lias tasted a scur spple ^vill have the more relish for a sweet one. Your present want will make future prosperity all the sweeter. Eighteen-psuce has set up many a peddler m business, and he has turned it over until he has kept his carriage. As for the place you are cast in, don't find fault; with that yon need not be a horse because you were bom in a stable. If a bull tossed a man of mettle sky high, he would drop down in a good place. A hard-working young man with his wits about him will make money while others will do nothing but lose it. "Who loves his work and knows how to^ spare, may live and flourish any- where." As to the trouble who expects to find cherries without stones, or roses with- out thorns Who would win must learn to bear. Idleness lies in bed sick of the mul- ligrubs, where industry finds health and wealth. The dog in the kennel barks at fleas the hunting dog does not even know they are there. Laziness waits tDl the river runs dry, and never gets to market. "Try" swims it, and makes all ths trade. "Can't do it" wonld not eat the bread cut for him, but "Try" made more out of mnshroons. â-  â- â€" â-  I m k standing offer â€" The bid at an ont-door auction. How to escape being ship- wrecked â€" O shun the ocean. A young S[neue-pidâ€" The (Chinese baby. "A time or awl thincs," as the cobbler said on com- menciog work for the day. ^A fast gait â€" The gate that is bolted. When is the house furnace like the victim of the* drop game â€" When it is well shaken down. n. i:K \nm M' â- H Ml-,, rfr i iJl?l' â-  â- mi fdJ 4 \i :â-  i; »« r?i M aoSfe'isfci- " 'Siii t^a -„ 'j?f » y^^^^.~r^.}