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 PfffP^^^P^vf^ Vv-j*" '•-'â- *•*'***â- ' r^r'STf^ls^wHSSa^ â- m--? j/iJ M: "^O" • ^1/, STELLA; OR, AT CROSS PURPOSES. CHAPTER I. A VOKBIDDEN PLEASURE. " Can yon see, Stella ' •* Yes lean a little more this way. Oh Cecily, do look at that lovely Madame de Pompadonr dress and there goes a Joan of Arc with a real helmet and cuirasse And see.there is Mosquetaire walkiug about with a Mephistopheles " " That was Monsieur d'Arpigny, I heard him announced. " "And there goes the old Prefect in a white wig and knee-breeches and yellow rosettes on his shoes. Doesn't he look ridiculous " "And his wife in a hoop and big ruff! Her nose looks redder tba ever Oh Stella, doesn't it seem hard we should be up here whilst all the fun is going on " Stella sighs. The two blonde heads are close togeiber, hanging over the wide oaken staircase the two slim English girls, in their heavy crape dresses, are leaning as far forward over the bannisters as they can venture. The guests are coming up-stairs. Madame Halevy, vi ho lives on tne floor below, is giving a fancy-dress ball, and the motly company is arriving. It is a fine old house in a cathedral town in Western France. It had probably ceen a duke's palace once, and belonged to some screat family in the olden time, for the rooms are large and lofty, and wainscoted^ and the staircases have great carved oaken balus- trades, and the ceilings are rich with paint- ings. But now it is all let out in diflerent flats, and Monsieur Halevy, the sous pre.fet and his fat little wife had the first 'floor; whilst Mrs. King, the English widow, and her two fatherless girl.=i inhabit the floor above her. Nobody at Valency knew much about Mrs. King. She bad come there a year ago, and had settled down in the place. The Prefect and the sous prefect had called upon her, so had the doctor and the principal notary of the town. Mrs. King had retu;ned their visits, but had delincd ihe hospitable invitations to their houses which they pressed upon her. She was a widow, she said, andher mourning was too deep for her to go into society, and her daughters were to'o young to go out without her, even had not their lather's death been so recent. There was a good ladies' college at Valency, where the daughters of the well- to-do inhabitants were educated. The Misses King went daily to the classes at this col- lege and it was generally understood that Mrs. King had come to Valency in order to give her daughters a cheaper and better ed- ucation than she could have .secured in her own country. They learnt, at all events, to chatter French like French girls, They, poor child- ren, for they were little more, would have been glad enough to have made friends amongst their school-fellosvs and to have gone with them amongst their families and their homes but Mrs. King set her face against their making friends. They were to be civil and pleasant with all, but to be in- timate with none. It was the maxim she acted upon herielf. By degrees the good people of Valency un- derstood that the English lady did not de- sire to have the seclusion of her retirement invaded, and they let her alone. But many of them still thought it was hard upon her girls. Only that morning Madame Halevy had panted up-stairs to her neighbor's room in order to petition that Stella and Cecily might be allowed to come down, if only for for an hour, to see her fanny-dress dance, Mrs, King had been h jrrified. " It is_ quite impossible, madame â€" 1 assure you it is impossible. They are too young. Why, Cecily is only sixteen." "Ah then, let Mademoiselle Stella come. She is nearly eighteen. May she not come?" "But consider, Madame Halevy, their deep mourning. I could never allow my child to be present at such a gay scene so soon after her father's death. It is barely a year ago. I am afraid it is an im- possibility, though I thank yon ail the same for your kind thought." Madame Halevy retired discomfited, and Mrs, King, no doubt, considered that she hac" but done her duty. Stella and Cecily were, however, very miserable. "Horrid, hatelul crape " cried Cecily, in a passion, when the two sisters were in their room together. " What a shame it is to keep us mewed up on account of it " " Oh hush, Cecily We ought not to forget that it is for poor papa." "Don't be a goose, Stella," cried Cecily, who had no hesitation in speaking out her thoughts, " You know very well that poor papa didn't trouble his head much about us. Why are we to sham being so unhappy when we are not a bit, and all this while afterwards, too?"' "It is a great pity, certainly," assented Stella, thoughtfully, though whether she alluded to the crape or to the death of her parent is not quite clear, "Never mind, Cecily, I'll tell you what we'll do when mamma has shut herself up in her room, and we are supposed to have gone to bed, we will creep out on the staircase and see all the people come. It will be great fun, we shall see the dresses at all events only you must be sure to speak in a whisper, in case mam- ma should hear us." So there they are, hanging over the ban- nisters. Two soft, fair heads, with fresh, â-  English faces, and bright, Saxon blue eyes, leaning against each other, whispering in eager delight and admiration to one an- other. "Look at that man coming up the stairs now," cries Cecily, "Doesn't he look like an Englishman " " He is an Englishman, I feel sure he is so tall, and well-made, and upright. What a beantilal black drees he has and how handsome he is " Both girls gazed eagerly down at the new- comer. He came lightly and quickly up the stairs, in the wake of an elderly man whom they recocnized as the Mayor. He was, as Stella said, tall and well-made, and his fresh complexion and curly brown haix would have proclaimed him to be English in any foreign Onntry. "There is no yonng manlike that m Valency," said Stella, with significant ad- miration, as he passed on below them into the ball-room, and the music striking up as be entered, prevented them from hearing his name Oh I how tantalizing was that delicious waltz that was going on and now every one had arrived, so there were no more wonder- ful dresses to look at, they could only see a blaze of light through the half-open door, and hear the loud hum of many voices and the tramping of many feet from the room below. Happy dancers how those two poor, lonely girls up in the dark, on the stairs, envied them "Ought we not to go to bed, Stella?" whispers Cecily, at last. "Wait a minate, here comes Madame Gambeau up the stairs. How she is chat- tering to that old woman with her. I won- der what it is all about " Madame Gambeau was the porter's wife, and a very important personage indeed in the house. She arranged and ordered every- thing on these occasions, for she was also Madame Halevy's cook. She was coming up the stairs with another woman, and they were both jabbering loudly together as only women of the lower order in France have the strength of lung and the volubility of tongue to do. Her bedroom was at the top of the house, and she was probably on her way there. She had got quite close to the English girls before she saw them. "What is the matter, Madame Gam- beau " " Ah Mademoiselle King, it is you Ah. par exemple and I did not see you. Ah pity me, my dear young ladies. Here is this stupid Madame Marton who comes to tell me that her daughter is ill, and cannot come to-night, and there is the procession quite spoilt Ah whatever shall we do " She cast up her hands in an agony of dis- may. "Procession! What procession? What was it to be, ]Madame Gambean " " Whj' eight young girls dressed as Swiss peasants each was to carrry a tray with lemonade, and orgeat, and such things, and go into the dancing-room between the dances and hand the things to the company. They were to be two and two in different colors â€" red, blue, green and yellow â€" and now, here is Madame Marton come to say her girl is ill, and all niy procession will be spoilt. Who ever heard of seven peasants coming in '" " Well, but," said Cecily, laughing, "is there no other girl who can take her place " " Alas I no, mademoiselle, there are no more that are beautiful and good we have hunted all over Valency to find eitjht young girls who should be beautiful and good. Monsieur will have it so, because he is going to give them each a new gown and fifty francs apiece. You see there were a great many who were good and not beautiful â€" oh a very great many of those â€" and some were beautiful and not at all good. That would not do but the difficulty was to find the girls that were beautiful and well behaved also. There were only these eight, in all Valency only eight And even of these, two are not perhaps what all would consider handsome tor Laura Tressin has a thick waist and one shoulder higher than the other, and it cannot be denied that in some lights Jeannette Dumont has a stjuint in her eye still, when all of them were together it might not have been noticed but Susette Marton, she was the best looking by far, I should have sent her in the first, and her dress is lying there all ready on my bed, and here is her mother come to say she cannot come It is enough to break one's heart." "But indeed, Madame Gambeau," cried the other women, " my poor child cannot lift her head from her pillow, she is in ter- rible pain" "She ought to be ashamed of herself, then," replied the porter's wife, angrily. " On this night of all others, she ought to have made a point of being well. Oh what am I to do with seyen peasants in- stead of eight " Stella King was debating something in her own mind. She whispered a word to her stister, "Oh! Stella," gaspsd the younger girl, with awe struck admiration, " Would you ever dare " Stella turned to the old woman who was still bemoaning herself over the failure of her beloved "procession." " Madame Gambeau, how should I d for your eig^hth peasant " ' ' You, mademoiselle Ah I but you are only joking " " No, not at all. I would give anything to go down stairs to see all the people, I could hand the glasses on the tray quite easily that is not difficult to do. Do you think this dress would fit me?" ' ' Oh but what would Madame, your mamma, say " "Mamma need never know, she thinks we have gone to bed It must be a secret of course, Madame Gambeau. Do you think I am good and beautiful " "Ah! mademoiselle, you. would be ravishingly beautiful " " I am at least as pretty as the girl who squints," said Stella, laughing "so take me up to your room quickly and let me put the dress on," The two girls ran lightly up to the top of the house, passing their mother's door on tip-toe. And soon Stella had divested her- self of her hated crape dress and stood ar- rayed in the neatest and most coquettish of little costumes, A blue merino skirt, a square velvet bodice, opening over white lawn chemisette and sleeves, and a black velvet liead-dress thickly covered with sil- ver ornaments, were the component parts of her toilet. "Now I am ready," she cried, excitedly, dancing about the liiftle attic in which her transmogrification had taken place, " Oh Cecily, I feel like Cinderella going to the ball in the fairy's chariot." "Iiook ont for the prince, then," said Cecily, who was too unselfishly fond of her sister to gradge her the stolen pieasare she herself could not share. "Oh Stella, ^ou do look so lovely." " Yes, mademoiselle is most beautiful " cried the admiring and delighted Madame Gambeau. Stella skipped abonl the room wild with excitement. " Not a creature will know me, not even Madame Halevy she has never seen me ex- cept in that fusty old black dress she does not know that I can ever look so pretty as this." But she had no idea how beautiful she really was. "Now come," said Madame Gambeau and held ont Her h«id, and Stella ran quick ly down stairs by her aide. CHAPTER IL StrSKTTE MABTOS. Madame Halevy's Wo» was .AUlef *» overflowing. There w«e certainly about eighty people present, and t^«y„T«'f »Sn^ f,2.cy-dres8. It^asaverybnlbantsoene. There was a huge chandelier m the mddle of the ceiling, and numerous J";^^^ round the walls, which were dr»R?f "^j wreathed with festoons of flowers, Moe. of the dresses were very handsome and very well got up. All of them were at kast quaint and pretty. Through an open door- W could be seen a table which was spread in an adjoining room, to which in time everybody would sit down to a solid supper, meanwhile it was the custom that light re- freshment, lemonade and other cooling drinks, should be handed to the dancers The hour was still, however, so early that this part of the entertainment had not be- gun. They were all dancing. Gentlemen m France do not wait for introductions to partners, they walk up to the little groups of young girls and pick and choose for themselves sometimes where there are many strangers this is embarrassing but when, as here, in the small society at Valency, everybody has known everybody else from their babyhood, the couples pair off almost naturally, the little flirtations and amourettes are all well-known and recogniz- edâ€" there is no sense of suiprise about it all. Norman AUingham leant rather forlornly against the flower-bedecked wall, and looked on at it all. He was the only Englishman present, and had arrived at Valency only the same morning he had come with a let- ter of introduction in his pocket to the Mayor of the town, who was an old friend of his grandfather'o and no sooner had he delivered it than that hospitable personage insisted on his rersoving his portmanteau from the hotel to his own house not only that, but he had insisted upon taking him VI ith him to Madame Halevy's dance that evening. "But I have no fancy-dress," objected Mr. AUingham. "Ah, that is soon settled, my dear friend, for my son, who was to have been of the party, has been obliged to go to Paris on business his dress is here ail ready it is black velvet of the time of Henri IV. j it will suit you admirably, as you are so tall and fair. You must absolutely do me the pleasure of wearing it.* Mr. AUingham was, of course, unable to refuse. But when he had come to the dance in his black velvet dress, he did not seem to derive much pleasure from it. The Mayor explained to him that he was free to dance with any women present whose appearance he might fancy. But, seemingly, Norman's insular prejudices were too strong to endow him with the courage of addressing an unknown young lady be- sides, they all looked perfectly happy â€" Therese, and Pauline, and Clementine, each had her Alphonse, her Adolphe, or her Francois they did not seem to (vant any other partners. All the same the gay scene amused and pleased him; it was a little in- sight, too. into French provincial society, and as such was quite a novelty to him, "Pleasuie to-night," he said to himself, "ana business to-morrow morning. I won- der what will come of this wild-goose chase of mine, and how my worthy relatives will receive me " At this moment there was a great commo- tion at the door a dance was just over, but the band struck up a pretty, lively march, and the procession of Swiss peasant girls came winding in two and two, bearing each a little gilt wicker-work tray in her hands. They reached the middle of the room and formed a circle, and the servants came for- ward and loaded the trays with glasses and with biscuits. Then Monsieur Halevy, standing in the middle of the room, said " Messieurs and mesdames; these are the eight prettiest and most modest maidens in Valency, who are selected to wait upon you this evening, and to whom I propose giving a present of fifty francs apiece, whilst Madame Halevy will give them each a new gown. After the girls had smiled and courtesied their acknowledgements they turned round and spread themselves about amongst the company, handling refreshments. It was a simple little ceremony but it had a pretty effect and produced quite a round of applause from the guests. Even Norman AUingham thought what an effective little scene it was, and how simple- minded people they were to be so pleased at such a little thing. And whilst he was thinking about it, sud- denly one of the Swiss peasant girls stood before him handing him her tray. Mr, AUington looked at her with a sud- den interest; she stood before him with downcast eyes, blushing deeply; her fair hair shone like gold under her little black head-dress with its sUver chains; her white, rounded arms, dimpled at the wrist like a child's, held the Uttle gilded tray to- ward him. " By Jove " said the EngUshman to him- self, " this is the best looking girl I have seen this side of the water. What long lashes she has I wonder what her eves are like?" ' Then aloud in very EngUsh French, he said " What IS your name, pretty Swiss peas- ant? ' "Susette Marton. " repUed Stella, boldly, giving the name of the sick girl whose substitute she was, and as she spoke she flashed fher big blue eyes for a minute up into his face. "You are perfectly charming. Mad- einoweUe Susette " said Norman, Si an aw- f ul lingo, as he helped himself to a^ orange- ade, the nastaest compound, he said to hiin- seU, he had ever been asked to par- take of; but he would have taken Quwn El^or's bowl of poison itself from so ^7° xiebe. laShid ^°°^^ "P '° '^^ '^^ a8»»a and v..r iiT'T i" °°' French," she said, with a roguish twinkle in her eyes. " No, you are right theri, mam'zeU I am only a stupid lout of Mi'EugUBhmin £1^7 p'***^ ^^ ^^^ I «^ it. fo; 0/*^^**^ "Susette Marton" seemed rather offended, for she drew back quickly ^th i heightened color, and handed^her orangeade to somebody else. «""ge»ae Norman Alliiighwn flowed ^bsr^ Wr miringly with hia eyec •• At went round the "what a perfectly lovely girl she was; what a charmingly love^ ,^«»'â- ^L,^i*Lr dear little foot peeped ont from below her short blue skirt; what an exquisite com- plexion and then:vhat hair and eyes And tow wonderful to find aU these perfections in a little French girl of the lower classes For tha*, of course, was what the. was. Monsieur Halex^'s eight young girls, who had been selected because they were modest and pretty, who were to have fifty francs and a new gown, were, asamatter of courae, chosen from the petUe bourgeoute of the town Her father proUbly was a tobaccon- ist or a baker, if indeed he was not in a stiU lower grade of life; h 3 might as likely as not be no higher than a water-carrier or a chiffonier; but then where on earth did the girl get that grrceful way of walking, that Fefined beauty, that lady-like and fascinat- ing manner When Mr. AUingham came to look round at the seven other peasant girls who had composed the Uttle pageant, he found that they were as chalk to cheese com- pared to this one girl. They were rosy and somewhat blousy- faced girls with black hair and eyes they had thick waists and substantial feet and ankles they looked thoroughly happy and jolly, but also thoroughly common and un- refined. They were good-looking, certainly, if you will, but they were of a beauty which spoke undeniably of the class from which they came, • I Norman looked back at the fair-haired girl, and from 'looking became irresistibly impelled to follow her to the other end of the room, J o • A waltz was just beginning, and the Swiss peasant girls, resting from their occupation, stood looking on at the dancers one or two of them were busy taking awj,y the empty glasses and carrying them out of the room to be washed and refiUed ready for the end of the dance, Susette Marton stood by herself in the doorway, looking on eagerly and some- what longingly, at the dancers. One of the other girlsâ€" Madame Gambeau's niece â€" who had been let into the secret of who she was, had carried away her little tray to the attendants for her. " Would you not like to dance " said the young Englishman, in his bad French, stand- ing suddenly before her. He had been shy of addressing the young ladies of the upper ranks of Valency society but he did not feel himself at all unequal to a flirtation with this lovely girl, who could not from her position in the room by any possibiUty be a lady, Stella looked up at him again with those bewilderinglylovely eyes. "Oh 1" she said, with a little gasp, " how I would like it " "Then come and waltz with me," Haifa minute of hesitation. She was a lit- tle bit uncertain as whether this would be considered correct iti the programme laid out for the "modest an^i pretty" Swiss girls; and she was terribly afraid lest I^Iadame Halevy's attentions should be drawn to her, and lest she should recognize her as Miss King, from the floor above. She looked hurriedly round Madame Halevy was no- where to be seen probably she was in the next room superintending the preparations for supper. " I don't think I can say ' no,'" she said, below her breath; and the next instant Norman AUingham's arm was round ber waist, and he had whirled her away into the thick of the throng. " This is my first night in Valency," he said to her, as they stopped breathlessly for a minute after two or three turns round in the room. " I never imagined I should enjoy myself so much in this place." "Why not. Monsieur? We are all happy at Valency, ' "Ah but then you don't know what a dreadful thing I have come here for." "No; what is it?" "I have come to Snd a wife." Insensibly, "Susette Marton" drew herself a very little bit further away from him. "Surely, monsieur, that is not a dreadful thing at all â€" quite the contrary " and her voice was a shade colder and more polite, ' 'Ah so it may be sometimes but when a wife who has been chosen for you â€" whom you have never seen â€" whom your grand- fathers and grandmothers have' settled you are to marry whether you like her or no that is another matter, is it not But you French people understand all about mar- riage de convenances, don't you " " Oh yes, we understand all that," said his partner, simply, "Suppose we go on dancing," And they danced again, "So you are to find this wife at Val- ency?" she inquired, when they paused once more. " Yes I shall have to look for her to- morow morning. But why do yoiji speak again of such a disagreeable subject 1 am perfectly happy now, and I want to forget her, for she is sure to be hateful to meâ€" after you," he added, rather tenderly, " Monsieur, don't talk nonsense," said Stella, averting her head. ,. '!^* " °°' nonsense, you dear, charming little Susette," said this very naughty young man. "I never imagined there was such a lovely FrMich women in all the kingdom of France. Now don't look so angry, for you know very weU you must have had lots of men makmg love to you, atid you girls aU like It though you pretend you don't. No. I am not going to let you go. Come this way, out on the staircase. " He drew her out at the open door on to the deserted oaken staircase, with its broad landing. The waltz was stiU going on one was outside the room. (to be cojjtinubd.) â€" â€" i r I m Smnmer Primer. Why do those men Run so fast this Hot b!5*u -x^ anybody Dying? No. How Bed their faces are. They wifi burst a Blood veaseL See, they are almoat Fainting, but they will try to run. Poor Fellowa Have u®X J"!* ^Ped from Prison? No, my cnud. They have aummer cottagea out of town, and are Merely trying to catch a xrain. • Mme. Nilaaon writes from London that she has taken paaaage for Aug. ISonbowd tilS^« "*f *° "^^ dep«rtnre ahe will spend the time at variona watering pla^a. Bow tbey pUy the iw? O'leass. â- * 1 " 1 was loafing around fi, mght,"?aidJimNelsoroat" locomotive engineer* n^-^^^ Orleans, "and as 1 hadnothl^ *»'« xj ped into a concert, and he^d?'?.'i«IiJ t-renchman play a piano ba " me feel all over in spots a ^^ "^uJ down on the stool, I knew h '"'»« C^ handled himself that he?j*»'!i machine he was running r"" f keys away up one end, ja.u -^PW guagea and he wanted to gee », St enough. Then he lookedTn '*^»i ed to know how much steam '1, **' iug,and the next moment hi *** «. the throttle and sailed oat n„ ft'"^l«i« as if he was half an hour la^ " "You could hear her thu rf verts and bridges, and eettinr,°'"o faster, until the fellow rS^ t"i seat like a cradle. Somehow V^°"' was old 26 pulling a passeooer t '^m ting out of the way of a Wilp" Ji'M low worked the keys on the mT n, ^^* like lightning, and\i,ea he fl?^' north end of the Ime until the 1; around like a b^iz^ saw and r' About the time I was 't.xiutr tfnu*' cut her offa little, he kicked h'^^ under the machine wideoDenl throttle away back in the tende; f " usalem j umpers ho w he did run ' t ~^' stand it any longer, and 3 elled tn v she was-'pounding' on the left 8^ wasn't careful he'd dron hi^-.t, ' •'Buthedidn'thear^ XooP^' Everything was flying and whizzinT graph poles on the side of thetral' t ^°^ °i r°, "'^^" ^^' trees ap« be a mud bank, and all the tiffl/,^ no Everything was flying aud whS jj graph poles on the side nf +k„.. s-.U like to be a mua bank, and allthetim.\ 1 haust of the old machine sou^W hum of a bumble-bee. J tried tu I' but my tongue wouldn't move iv around curves like a bullet, slipoed ' centric, blew out his soft plu/ wen^^^ grades fifty feet to the mttdS founded brake set. She went by the? mg point at a mile and a half a mintttJ callmg lor more steam. My hair at^ like a cats tail, because I knew the/ was up. "Sure enough, dead ahead olnsm. head light of the 'special' In a dizelj the crash as they struei, and I saw" shivered into atoms, people mashed â-  mangled and bleeding and gasping ;or j er. I heara another crash as the h professor struck the deep keys awav on the lower end of the southern 'wi and then I came to my senses. Ihtn] was at a dead stand still, with the dooj the fire-box of the machine open, vipmi perspiration off his face and bowing itf people before him. If I live to be a tW and years old I'll never forget tfaeriie'J Frenchman gave ir.e on a piano, '"i Democrift. Tne Poetry of the Table. In the first place a starched auj sn.;; ironed table clothâ€" which, ii neativ alter every meal, will look well ior i^ days. Then flowers and ferns in ii\i baskets, or small vasesâ€" or else a tiny d gay laid upon every napkin. The salti be pure and smooth. The butter shodJi moulded into criss-crossed diitnonas,; globes, with the paddles made for this pose. A few pretty dishes will tmil plainest table glow â€" a small bright-cc!o[ platter for pickles, horse radish, or; and butter plates representing green 1 are also attractive. A few :ents' woiti parsley or cress, mingled with smalls of white paper daintily clipped, vril' a plain dish to assume the air oi a F.n entree. A platter of hash may be oai ed with an edging of toasted or fried si cut into points and a dish of saf chops is much more impressive wiij bones stacked as soldiers stack thcL- fl forming a pyramid in the centreâ€" eaciiif adorned with a frill of cut paper, A| slices of lemon, mingled with sprigs 01 J ly and slices of hard boiled e?gs, ionj pretty garnish to many dishes; anassij could be more appetizing than bet!, 1 mutton or lamb made into mince rieitj pressed into form in a wineglass, tta^ in pork fat, with a sprig ot green pli-i the top of each little cone, i'be basJelf fruitâ€" peaches, pears, grapes or sp oranges, and grapes â€" should be tasit arranged and i rimmed with fiowers bowl of salad should be ornaments 1 the scarlet and orange flowers oi tty pieolumâ€" their piquant flavor adding ;j the lettuce, with which they can beeu" Kodem Pessimism, It is singular that it has fc«""j^ this age to be the first to elaborate a F ophy of misery. It is remarkiwej Byron in England, Leopardi in M^^ eaubriand in France, aud Schope»g Germany were engaged al""^^" 7 enusly in teaching doleful doctrinal evil side of things at times sns^ mind, even the most gay, aad t"' to everyone a passing impulse w^^^ one of our modern poets, tMt one with rapine and harm no prw^^ heal. The mayfly is torn ^{^f^^m the sparrow speared by the ^^^^"^^J whole little wood where I ^^^^^^J plunder and prey." There seems "J^ J for any originality in the ever* murs, old as man himself, tnai to sorrow, and that life is Dui best. Yet only in modern W J doleful doctrine systemized. " 'J "Canzoni" of Leopard 1, with tw^ refrain about the ^^^""JZ^Jt things, has this theme been '^l currlnt of a poet's wiiol\t'"'^£«»i| by Schopenuauer and his » ^^ scendant, Von Hartmann, ta» force of the dreary, stii»'"°S^*tly f favor of pessimism been ^^i^ift home. Only in these f "*«« ao *• who have been inspired by ^n^a it unflinchingly urged tbatsoj^ only increases the capaci^'^^j without bringing any i^^Tgcho-' increase of actual enjoymen^^j^j^ would be an interesting "Jjti,efii»»j omenon if only because be, wr J has labored with consistency^^ neaa the argument that ex^ ^0*1 the most favored circ\lmBWi^.^^sl^ ance on the aide of ^f'^^^ (^ circumstance that while A^ jeiJJ elaborating a philosophy w"*^ „^ manity, Schopenhauer, i" ^^u' country, was elaborating »Jf ««' made humanity only an odj' ation.â€" London Times. j of a visic tj t f =-^c.ffc. a steam engine, l*»l^a couple of wood rl?Lt destined, it may r**'^gliBh mouth of t *• Slerof a Channel ' "themes afoot to joint 'e^^'Stinuous railway 8**i:.nce of carriages. W|*^^which heis inter 1^ three millions sterlii «;5 would allow the pa ""Siway every day, at Ti5 miles an hour ' "V miles in length m r*. half an hourâ€" aspee M "u higher than that k« EieU of the St. Goth riS wd Italy. At tl If^fit the mouth of th â- S seven feet in diamet i-I^cepting here and tl "laer tqnare opening, ,r!.SrD-out"-we foun, ,1 fitted with seats on ^.manner of the tram /train familiar to habil "^along the side? oi fSiihe ground, was a fooi fSacbedto a railway c; *- the seat waa a semi-ci, u with red baize, sufficieni KL and shoulder from e ^cIS of falling debris bu hA to save the legs and feet bfgpacetakenup in the 1 Kinsle so as to make a leve Ke rails were laid, it w fwe should sit with knees c b, bent during the whole t Lrneving to the face of the •"S. A Rembrandt o .might have done pictor: k a scene. Under foot for Uf the way the ground is s D in slush and the stalwar J and push the trolliesâ€" tr V alongâ€" have enough to dc 7.hold. The travellers, for Lh of time, moving throuel [t cannot well make out I of those who sit beside th( low and again the little e!( [in rude niches of the naked II a brilliant but fugitive 1 ig train. Then, for a v â- m but darkness visible. J^ws above and beneath, ai fcing backward or forwa deepening gloom, the trav ^receding, teemin.c; endless i sctive, lit at long inter% neyes. Onward, and yet Land save the splashing,' u (workmen tramping throu^ Idrip, drip of the water up Iveour headsâ€" we are dragge )eatlithe shingle and the frefor a time level with th« tidown. a quarter of a mil [rwater mark under the bed he bore has cut clean thrcu I in a circle as round and tde of a wedding ring. Sc leed, i the instrument ada itsrial that in dry places it Itiie chisel marks made a co At intervals along the re learedthe water might cc sides and roof have been I and clay, and held up wi bds, apparently about ei |dc, Sometimes in the fit ht, the eye rests upor ulets, LIKE STREAMS OF BL jdownths damp wall; iteere are "faults" in th( t yet remedied. So we go |)ment8 seeming as miuut* ictriclanaps cease altogether, rfnl cave is enveloped in a d, iilcl be impenetrable but foi I a few tallow candles stuck ills of the cutting. lEven a mile and more from B shaft it is not ditiiciilt to Mune machine which %\'i pinpe drives a continuous si Finto the seven feet pipe v pfOTms no more' than the At a distance of -, â- ^' -p^ mouth we come upon 1 "dWul piece of niachiuer »ee through the bed of the "Uiwy celerity and at a cos' Inquired for the making c 1 under a hill. By perr ient of the Boa'd of meer was allowed to mabi I in order to show our pa [w wwkinp. Presently we ^too comfortable carriage; once more, along the fes ^; pass by spaces of horrib â„¢Pse8 of welcome light. A '•J^g up through the r**i' where the glad su â- ^â- U cliffs fave and batl Of «t unbetrayed Channel «re of golden glory. **• Petroleum Fields of M-BBTelative importance of ^^^rid are succinctly state J^ly Century, by E. V. and fully illustrated 5.W" "Nearly aU the jgP. the world's commei -r^j^**^ of country about 1 long, with a vary .a,**" to twenty miles, 1 ^te of Pennsylvania, b J^'JiJta northern edge i *}*. This region y 13 barrels, and in 1 ,, „; A little petroleun [f'J'T^la, a little at 1 ^•Ohio, and a little ?*%, -^here is also r»X|uger one, scan ^*Wi4 Russia, and c I u» India. The tofc ^.fi^s, outside of ^^j IS bat a small frae ii5^!**t howtver, and 6m influence upoi ore, theoilofthes ^*a America or the rtjtiality, and so 1 feaervoir holds out, 'awntad in the vicinil '««s*' «,