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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1893-5-5, Page 2HIS HEIRESS; 011, LOVE IS Al \V ;1/417S THE 4AME. CHAPTER III. "'rhe drying up of a shtgle tear has mere 4)f honest fame then oheddinr; rear of gore." Site was as good as her word. By the next evening they have all lenrnetl to smile upon her, by the end of the third week they stave all learned to positively cotrt her so- eiety which is tresh to the last degree. Vet still they are a little awkward with her, Stride little uncertain as to her ulterior de. Signs for their welfare. As for Mrs. Billy, she is very well pleased with herself so far, and with her growing relations with them, and hating no special designs in view, does not trouble herself to Invent any, One day, toward the end of this first eventful three weeks, she walks into the eehool•room rather aimlessly, to find Mar- gery there and the children, "Yon here, Margery? Why, (whet are you doing?" asks she. She is dressed in a pretty white gown of some soft warm ma- terial, the days being still a little chilly, and is looking cool and fresh and radiant. Mar- gery, on the contrary, has a rather crushed appearance, and is distinctly worm and openly miserable. "Teaching the children," she answers, shortly. "Alt !" says Mrs. Daryl, surveying the hot cheeks of the tbree with evident our. prise. Blanche, it appears to her, is full of tears; May ,just bereft of them; Margery herself seems on the very brink of them. " \Vhat on earth are you doing it for?" asks Mrs. Daryl, slowly. "Because, however poor they may be, they must not grow tut altogether savages," returns Margery with some sharpness. Her irritation has not arisen ont of the presence ofher sister-in-law, but is rather due to the extreme exhaustion born of a long and frditess argument with the twins, who have obstinately declined to take to heart the fact that twelve and nine make twenty-one. Perhaps Mrs. Daryl, grasps the truth of the situation, because the amiability of her de - meaner is undiminished as she sinks into a chair by the table and settles herself, Paris - Ian robe and all, to business, " Here 1 Give one of them to me," she says briskly. To teach?" asks Meg, aghast. "To try and knock something into her brain.. It's the sante thing, eh But to judge by you I should say it was no mean task. Give me Blanche. I expect site knows considerably more than T do, but with the help of a book I'll go in and win." "Ob, not Indeed you mustn't. You haven't an idea what a worry it is. Billy won't like you. to do it," says Margery, anxiously. "Billy always tikes just what I like," "You will hate it" "If 1 do, 1'11 stop," says etre. Billy, im- perturbably. And Margery,conquered,pass• ether over Blauehe, and once more returns o the disturbed argument with May. Five, ten, twenty minutes go by, with only a dismal sob or two, and a dull mono- ' tone, or perhaps a dismal blowing of the nose to break their deep serenity. Then auddenly, all at once as it were, an awful disturbance takes place. Mrs. Billy has, without a moment's warning, flung her book into the fire•ptace, and hos risen im- petuously to her feet, Her fine eyes are Bashing, her cheeks crimson. " She ought to be killed—that child !" alio cries, pointing to the terrified flay, " She ought to be exterminated before the world is made aware of her. She has no more brain than a—a fly." " May 1" exclaims Margery, glauoing re- proachfully at the trembling culprit. Then some Inward force compels her to defend the little sister who is staring at her im- ploringly with quivering lips. " Usually sheds a very good child, she aays, holding ; out her hand to May. "Good! Good 1" cries Airs. Daryl, indig. manly. "Then tell Ire, will you, why it is thewillpreaiet in bounding Europe on the north by the Mediterranean Sea 1 I warn you she is dangerous. She world turn the world upside down. Then in a moment the anger vanished, 'and she lifts her hangs to her heed, and breaks into a fit of the gayest, the mestere controllable lauehter. " I wonder when I was in a passion be- fore," she says. " How it relieves cue. The worst of it is it doesn't Iast long enough with me ; I don't get the good out of it. It evaporates before I'm done with it, Say, children wouldn't yon litre a run 1 It's a most blessed afternoon, It's a positive sin to be in doors, I think, And as for Europe, I don't quite see that I should ory over it, even if the Mediterranean did sit on its head." 'I suppo'e they ought to get through the leeaons they have prepared," begins Margery, doubtfully. "So they have ; every one of them, be. cause they haven't prepared any. Aud from this hour out I fancy I know what we'll do^ Our tempers wouldn't last • through much of this sort of thing-" rap- ping time lesson books—" so we'll just pay some poor soul to lose her temper for ns," " You mean—" "1 mean a governess." "Yon must not think of that," cries Margery, coloring hotly, "We must not put you to that expense. My time is eny own : I have literally nothing to do," "Quite as it:should be with a pretty girl," interrupts Mrs. Daryl, quickly. "Alt ! experience has t: ught me that." With so much time on my hands," per. sista Margery, "I feel I can do nothing better than teach the children and—" "Learn to curse fate," interposes Mrs. Daryl, with her merry laugh. " Not a bit of it 1 Not while I am here ! A governess it shall be, and the children, believe me, will learn as much from her in one month ee they do from you in six. We'll get an old maid, and make her very comfortable, poor thing,: ".But— "Not a word. Do you think I could sit still, or go out riding, and know you were ruining your oonstitution with stash scenes as 1 have just gone through 1 Tut 1 What do you take me fore Come," changing her ,tone again as if the subject was over and done with forever, "I want you to show the the rooms in the west wing. They are all out of order, Billy Bays t bot that's what ',like, it gives one scope for, ones fins gin. .('tion. It permits one to give the reins to one's own taste in the matter of paint and gimcracks, Cotno 1" She slips her arm through Margery's, and the girl goes with her it step or two. Tltoro is indeed no gainsaying her. Then all at once Margery stops as if to argue the point anew, and Mrs. Daryl, glancing at her, sees, that her eyes aro fulI of melted tears. "Too much geography, grammar, and sums, and far too touch gratitu(to," thinks she swiftly. "Pondering on the children still 1" she says shnilieg. There elm gloaters balk neer her sltottider at the twins, who were pitting diseensolately in their scats, chilled by the conanotisness of having signally disgraced thtntaelves; in the late eueouuter. "Get on your feet, you two," elm me mantle gayly, "and piek the a bench of datl'odlle for toy room, Anil 111 tell yon what," beckoning then: closer to her, "from this day they shall have to whole month of pure and lovely idleness whilst I took north and slouch and east and west for the dragon I ant preparing for you," She laughs so pleasantly at this threat that the twins catch the infection of her mirth, and lough too, and are indeed so :de- lighted with her and the promised emann- petion from the itatetl stadies that their equanimity Is quite restored. Can she, does she mean It? A month, mind you. A whole long splendid month of delicious idle - nese, with nothing on earth to do but to hunt at will the wily butterfly 1 Oh! what an augel in disguise their enemy has be- come. They rise from their seats. Simultane- ously, involuntarily, they cies stands. They draw near. "Is it true?" cry they in one breath. "As true as that you are both the very prettiest pair of dunces 1" Mrs, Billy, having given voice to this medicated assurance,drawsbacb,and, prow identially in time, supports herself against the ancient book -ease that for generations has shown itself proof against the severest onslaughts. This enables her to receive the shock of two small bodies thing convulsive- ly and without warning upon her breast, with et least a show of valor. "0h 1" gasps May, hysterically, clinging to her, "wasn't it a good thing for no that you married Billy 7" "Flight, however ignominious, means life !" gasps Mrs. Billy, "so here goes 1" She tears herself away from the grateful twins, seizes Margery's wrist, and with het' escapes into the cooler hall outside, "Now come and show me the unnhabit- ed parts, the rooms where the ghosts walk," she says gayly, springing up the beautiful old staircase two steps at a tune. " Only there isn't anything so decent as a spirits," returns Margery, following her swiftly. " A cell, isn't it? It is just the sort of rambling old tenement that should possess a gentleman with hie head tanked well beneath his arm. But, alas ! he has never turned up. Alean of him, I call it," In truth, it is a very picturesque old mansion, though sadly out of repair, witha queer, dusky hall of huge dimensions. A hall full of ancient cupboards and 0 big fire - plane where the traditionary or night have been roasted whole—ramose The mantelpiece rises to the very ceiling, which is vaulted, and both are so black with age that it is impossible at a tirst glance to pick out and piece together properly the carving on the former. Doors lead off this hall to right and left, and two long no'rndors shrouded by moth- eaten curtains are dimly suggested Mrs. Billy ie openly pleased with everything. Standing on the top of the quaint staircase; as broad as it is shallow in the steps, she looks down into the gloom beneath her, and seems enraptured. "It only wants a word here, a touch there," she murmurs, casting a glance full of artistic appreciation around, "A prince might be proud of such a hall as that." "It wants considerably more than a touch," says Margery, who after all to ac• °ustottled to the beauty of it, and is not ear• ried away by its charms. To her the chairs, the antlers, the tables are all only so mucic lumber ; and, indeed, the entire furniture throughout the house is old; not to say crumbly. , \'fell, it shall have it," answers Mrs. Daryl. ' It is worthy of all care and con- sideration." She turns, and they continue their way, peering into this room, peeping into that, to find them all dilapidated and shorn of decorations of all sorts, the finances of the last two generations having been found very insufficient when applied to the keeping up of so large a house. The Daryis for the past two centuries had apparently taken for their motto, "Love and the world well lost," their beautiful wives bringing nothing but their fair faces and a stainless ancestry to the empty coffers of their hus- bands. It had not been Billy's fault that he had been false to the creed of his ancestors. He bad loved, and had wooed and won his sweetheart when she was without a penny in the world ; and does not, because he could not, love her a whit the more today in that shale an heiress to a rather fabulous ee tent. " Take rare," cries Margery suddenly, "a step leads down into this room. It takes one unawares, as a rule. But I want you to see this room of all ethers. The view from it is so perfect, and the windows so quaint." " Oh 1" cries Mrs, P,illy as she steps into it, with an admiration in her tone that leaves nothing to be desired, "1S'het a jolly little nem." She looks round her. 'Quite a medireval little affair, It is a trifle too much for me I confess, but yo'x —glancing at Margery kindly —" you like it, eh?" "Like it? It is an ideal thing—a rugged poem 1" cries Margery. Then she checks herself, and looks in a puzzled way at ger eister•in•law. "You who have such a fine appreciation of the really good, why do you disparage it?" she maks slowly, "Ithought of it all last night as a thing just suited for you, • as a retirement—a retreat—a pet place to receive your favorites. It was a matter of covetousness to myself many a time, but you see it would be thrown away without its suitable adornments. Every- thing should be of its own time," " Except its mistress," interrupts Mrs. Daryl, with a little laugh. "That's the flaw in the present ;esthetic run of thoughts We can't produce a real chatelaine. Vt'e can't bring bank a dame, severely Saxon, artistically pure, from the nauseous grave. And all the high art gowns to the world don't seem to me to do it. One can see the nineteenth century training all through tihe petits and wigs, and pensive poses,' " You are a skeptic," says Margery, laughing " A Philistine, you mean. In some ways, yes. .Exaggeration, don't you see, isodioue to me." Here she laughs gayly in unison with her companion. " bell you what, Meg," she says, "this room shall be yours. 1'll.have it done up for you, and you shall cheese every stick for yourself, You are Miss 1)ary), yen see, and proper respect meet be shown you. The eohnol•rnom will do for •the children well enough. It is comfortable, and there is something quaint about the tablets anal chairs, and the very ink -stains of ie But the boys should have a den of thee' Own. Of their very own, eh" A sort of a snuggery where they ;night knock around at will, and no one have the right to mold them for untidy(' use el.? There issometlhing rieneirkti lv cheery in the way the has of saying teat treeuent THE BRUSSELS POST. .NAY 5, 1893 "eh :" Seine thought growing wltlun the mind of Margery readers her dumb, "Well? Why don't you speak, oh? and why do you look. at me like that, with such eolennt eyes? I was just thinking," the words corning front her slowly, "that there are fete wu111- en win eo'tld have 00111e as a ntistl'eas to a etraug° house and have adopted an ancon- sriunable number of ttsetess people in the sweet spirit that you have clone ?" cries the girl, coming more into the sunlight and spreading out her hands as if in protest, ' Aa incumbrance, a worry, being of no moment at all in tate life that is just begin- ning for you. Yet it seems its though you had made up your mind to ns—to—" "Look here : If you only knew 1" inter- poses Airs. Billy. She seats herself with very rash prompt• nose npott a moth-devottred seat in one of the windows, and pulls the girl down beside her. There is seeret nobility abort this seat in that though it trotters to its fall, it makes one last effort attd manages to keep erect for still another half hoar. How could it upset so charming a uargo 1 "Don't you got it into your silly old nod- dle," says emirs. Billy, who takes no thought for her language,"that I'm makingsaerifioes for my husband's people or anything of that sort. It would be a downright trend ifyou brought your mind to that. I'm delighted, tlad thankful to have you all here. Taken hat in, eh? Delighted, see? I have been so long left alone, with only two old frowzy people to stare at day after day—fossils who were always on the very brink, but wim would'at go into it—that the Bound of the laughter that comes front all you girls and boys is, 1 consider, grand ; the very sweet• est music. Taken all that in? Why, that's right." Bat—to be ttevcr alone with Billy—" "There isn't a 'but' in the w•hote of it. I defy you to find one, my good child," interrupts this energetic young woman, piontptly. "If you think I'm t.ite sort to be miserable unless my husband is in toy sight all day or I in his you've made a mis• take, that's all. I'm not of the sickly sentimental order, by any 010000. Yes," glancing swiftly at Margery, "You know that Ilove Billy with all my heart and soul, eh"." "Yes," gravely. "I know it." "1 should, you know. He reserved me from a very slough of despond. He was time first bright thing I had come in contact with. I can tell you I rubbed myself against hint vigorously, and sparks was the result 1 He was charming to me, he treated me as though I were really a young girl, and not a mere beast of burden— a sort of superior upper servant—a being a degree better than Martha in that I did not displace my h's, and could sit in a drawing -room without looking awkward. He canine, Ele loved me ; poor dependent, as I was, And the is one of you! Do I not •owe you love for his love?" " Your life was miserable?" asks Margery, bending eagerly toward her. "Monotony is the worst of all miseries to some 'natures. They were not absolutely un- kind, bat I felt ' (gibbet oabin'd' every mu• meat of my day. Olt ! time horrible readings aloud to that old man until my throat was sore I the eternal windings of the old wom- an's skeins 1 I wonder I never gave way to my inner promptings— that I abstained from murder or suicide ; I was ahnost at the end of my patience, I can tell you, when Billy came upon time scene. Well, you know all that. A nd he loved me at once, somehow: tell in moment as it was just as I loved him." • "That is the true way," " Yes—isn't it? What a nice girl you ore Margery ! And 1 hadn't a single half- penny then, so"he must have meant all be said', eh ? I like to dwell on that; it snakes me feel right do can proud, somehow ; but yon mustn't mind me. Then the old general died and someone found out. that I was his nearest of skin—kin—What is it And all at once 1. became not only an heiress, but an enormous one." " Not so very enormous," says Meg, smil. ing and pointing menaoingly to the little rounded thing talking so fluently. "Ela? oh, no ! of course not in that way. But it was all like a fairy tale, wasn't it, now ? The night it was finally settled and my olafm to the money established beyond a doubt, I laughed in my bed 1 can tell you whets. I thought of how comfortable I could make my Billy." " Then? " Then we got married. I quitted forever the shade. I rushed headlong into thesun- shine. Billy and I dawdled about tr good deal iu Paris and Brussels, but the first glimpse of home I had ever had in may life was on the night that I arrived here," in• voluntarily, at thts, Margery winces, but evidently there is no arriere pewee, in Mrs, Billy's conversation, " You were a continu• ation of the sunshine that had come to me with Billy, This old house, all of you, everything scents blended into one sweet satisfactory whole. I couldn't bear to be in an empty house, To confess a truth to you," says Sirs. Daryl, bending forward, " I love noise? Taken all that to heart?" " Yes, all," replies Margery eerheetly, "'Then it only remains for you to take me there, too 1" says Airs, Billy smiling. iilargery, driven to a sudden impulse, turns to her and flings her arae around her. (To BE CUNTINtJap.) The Peniinine 0hin, There is something beautiful about the artistic and perfect feminine chin which modern artists rave about not a little. The ohin is a fair illustration of the development of the human race. The monkeys and sav- age. avage tribes of men have very protruding china which are the accompaniments 'of strong, powerf al jaws and teeth. The latter In the early stege of development were used for protection, hitt with the development of the race the teeth and jaws became less useful as weapons of defence and attack, and the chili assumed the prssenb normal form. We have to -day several types of china. One is the retreating olein, which is ungraceful and disfiguring to most people. The normal chin is one of moderate tarso, with strong definite curves, and tiush with the frontal line of the face. retia is the artistic chin of the female. It is one of the most graceful featuree of the Canadian woman, and it is a mark that should be cultivated and admired. The long, promi' nen(' chin which many have is a low stage of development, and it is geueratly amine ponied by large, prominent teeth. We now have dermatollgists who promise to change the general appearamte of the chin by outside applications, but the truly graceful feminine chin is time result of good birth handed down. from several gen. erasions, Thought He'd Heard of Net. hire Benana—Who is the lady with time swell turnout? Lord do Pendant—Thates her Majesty Queen Victoria. Air. Renew,,—t?m'tn.Seems tome S have hoard my wife and daughter epeeir of her. POETRY. Sweet "Violets. • ('181,01 ti01ll ;rt'• l Violets pnrpin and Mae, - Emblems of constant love, tender and true, 111 kis,+ you and send you to one loved ee we leltut thoughts -you awaken 1 leave yot, to tell. Ymu'hril;hrhnn my fade and your beauty derti3•, But you, ayw t'satness will linger when no louse mu, oly love, like 3.Ottr Prngr:mce, ahttll live On for aye, 'rho' the turns now so cherished may wither and die. Yetttlt', life, now en glowing, may smoulder tell is ('Oars Yet whatever changes upon my heart rust. Its sweet burden of lavo, nh, ever toted last. 1,lke yon, violets sweet, roecgnlzed le your tilt 1118, ITewo'er ohange(t be your Corm—yeti still are thosnntn: For yo0000 w•111 linger, ye., change as yutt will. And my dear one will love you and elteriah you still. Fade, fade as you must Fou still shall be tail', So go to,11y darling, love's message to bear That, as time pusses on, each year only shall }grove The constancy deep of this heart's fervent Swoot°s olotsl 1'lulets, I loveyournatne. For you. like true love, aro ever the sante ; Sweet and enduring. tender and true. So go to my dear one, Toro's bidding to do. —feature M. roue The Vacant Chair. Stealthily the elack•robed angel in the shadow hovered night, And a little soul has vanished To its home beyond the sky-. Now, the tender bud transplanted, Blooms in I•Ieevon's pneer air, But oto• teat's will spring. unbidden, O'er the little vacant chair. Iu the circle round the heardhstone, There's a gap that can't bo filled, And we mise the lisping sweetness Of the voice forever stilled, Now the little forst lies treenail, And the cheeks are waxen lair, And we tarn 11100y In angttleli Frena the little vacant chair. Brush away the sunny ringlets Proem the cold and silent brow, Close the oyes once full of sunshine, All their light is faded now. Though the baby will be safer in the bright home over there. Still 'tie hard to lose our darling. Hard to sue tate vacant chair. Aching hearts are full of sadness, And our eyes with tears Etre dint, But w•e know a loving sa ria' Celled the lits le One to Him. Tn Thine arms, 0 Heavenly Father, Closely fold our treasure rare, Make us stronger, purer, better, Through that little vacant chair. —Watt af. Wtrmttn. ` A Dream of Spring. The earth was bathed in beauty and in light, Just woke from out her tong and death -tike 110nee, Like to the fabled princess of rdmanre. By the fond kiss of her enamored knight. With his light touch the magic spell he broke : Tho.foyons streams, from tov bands set free, Rushed with exultant music to the sea, And all the land to life and laughter woke. Those cid and hoary monarchs of the glade, That looked as though a century had passed Since they in bud and leaf hal blossomed last, Appeared a miracle of betty shade. And the fair hearth arrayed herself in green, i0nblent of hope, her new found lord to greet; She spread a fairy carpet for his feet, 01 rainbow hues and flecked with golden sheen. White hawthorn blossomed thick above uta• head, And fragrant violets perfumed the air: Whilst I could only sigh to think ,here were Souls who to such great loveliness were dead. The Lifeboat's Crew. An awful night on sea and land ; Alone a figure walks the strand. And often pauses in the night. To throw across the sea his light. Tis the 1110 patrol on his lonely round. To warn some good ship homeward bound, Oft' the rocks where many a craft before, Hes struck. to sail the seas no more. He starts as through the misty gloom, The glare of aroc.et shove the doom Ofa stately ship with mast and•spar. Beinground to pieces on Chatham ear, Her emits are tattered, her to�pPmasts gone, A figure is aeon in thoshroude alone Far up in rho rapes on the starboard side, And out or reach of the furious tide. Back Io the station he runs with all haste. And the lifeboat de lainohod on the sera wild waste, How she rides out the breakers which gurgle and roar, And in anger end fury break loud on the shore, She approaches the vessel, now. sailor, be bold, Yon must jump In the water, must let go your hold On the ropes which sustain yea, and erns(' to the fete Stoat hearts which comprise the lifeboat 0r0w-. Her work now accomplished she moles toward the land, And soon she is grating her keel on the sand, The rescued Is cared for, the beacon lights burn, And the boat and her crew to the station re. turn, 'Tis n lite full of peril and danger lurks near. In the serviec brave lives are lost daring a Everyi inisnheroofttriedandfoundtrue, Ever ready, when called, is the bold lifeboat's Crew. —CD. V., Gallagher. Siberian Exiles in a Snowstorm. News which has been delayers in trunelt has just been received in London of a terrible disaster on the great Siberian road, It is to the effect that whee within nix hours' march of Tomsk, an exile party was caught in a terrifio snowstorm, and out of 874 persons only 91 safely reaohedtheir destine, tion, In an hour all truce of the road was lost, and in another moat of the men were exhausted. One after another the exiles would fall, dragging down those chained to them, the remnant of the party gloving on, desperately and hopelessly, Search parties found some bodies, but none alive. Six women and four children are said to be among those who perished, and one of the convoy was missing when the message was rentfromTonnak. According to the Moscow t edonietf, which publishes the account, not lees than 09—a very unusual proportion—o time exiles who were loot were "politleele,' and one of time women, Madame Lanny, was the wife of one of therm. A Pair Hit. American Mnglatrate—'ETovn't 01 soon you lmafar? Prisoner—Vie y'r Honour. It wor tin years ago whin (1i sat in that scat, y'r Honour, an' you was brought l afar me y'r Honour, an Of discha•arged ye. • Magistrate—lie jabere, there se. Diu• the -et -gel 1 The ,re.rsurtt of the ettnee here on the matt of average it81ttt i, Obeli 15 tons, yet j it is 001 felt. A NATURAL PLEASURE GROUND. The lien ut lfur eiarentIllug Piave" Yoe mintrt• luta set Apart for Her leetotie —.They (rate It Fin ntey P•at'h. A few years ago Vancouver, the terminal oily of elle Canadian Pacific Railway, was not in existence, but as noon as its position was (1ssured, it grew very rapidly and at the present time it is tt line,handsnme town with a population of over twenty thousand, I had the pleasure of seeing `tanley Parte very often Buying the winter of 1800.01 and frequently I treed to take walks along its silent paths, admiring the beau tilul Douglas fur trees which e1'el'ywlhere surrounded ole. These nhonarehs of the forest grow to a great height, some rear their dark tops 410 fie from the potted and are straight and firm, typical giants of the solitude, A vary good road,suitable for both riding and driv ing, extends the a hole way round the park and numerous paths branch orf leading to different points of interest. One of these byways takes yon to a ,pot where your eye will rejoice at what it beholds. If ie were not that you have been prepared to see something wonderful in the shape of trees, your surprise would bo vary groatbut as itis 401' Att11 CII.lnatEU at the work of Nature in thus producing such magnificent proofs of het• power. Straight as an arrow these mighty firs stand; so close together thee you try in vain to pierce the deep shade of the forest, often there is naught else to hide the day- light except their own huge fortes. Ferns in many varied shapes hide the bareness of the soil and under the influence of a con• genial atmosphere thrive and multiply. While staying at Vancouver I heard that a small steatner palled the "Beaver" had been wreolred and was lying at the foot of a cliff in Manley Park. This vessel was well known it having been the first one of its kind to cross from Eng- land to the Pacific Coast. A great many people visited the spot to take a loop at such to stout litre draft which had withstood so many storms dm - its eventful career. I soon had the oppor- tunity of seeing this pioneer of the ocean, and found myself in a lonely part of the public delimit) listening toile ever ceaseless murmur of the salt water as it cane splash• mg against the rocky sides of the cliff. Far below, with hall of its body in the surf lay the "Beaver," showing a funnel and bridge, diminutive little concerns, causing nae to wonder what manner of a vessel this was that had ventured so far from home. I was impressed by the scene a good deal,and now, though such a long way from the land of time fir trees, I think I hear the sigh of the forest and the soft breath from the Pacific as I used to when I roamed about Stanley Park. A thousand aures or more have been sat apart for the benefit of Vancouver, or as I have heard it called, CONST0NTINU8Lo 00' T1111 WEST. I lived in both places and can say that the appearance of Burre,rd Inlet is very similar to that of the Bosphorus. However, itis not my intention to enter into this subject, and I will confine myself to desorib. ing the situation and characteristics of this primeval pleaeure ground. Stanley Park is a miniature peninsula ; a road follows its rocky shores never far away fron the water side. At one point land juts out in- to the channel, which is here called " The Narrows," and then takes a broad sweep around its western limits, from whence perchance eau be seen a glimpse of the mail boat from Victoria as it speeds eastward. Ono° we have rounded the cape, as it were, we may consider half of our journey ac- complished, the rest of our road lying along English Bay. This important stretch of water is the site of several large saw mills and other industries. Vancouver is indeed favoured by Nature fn having so much beautiful water around her, and it will not be from want of nature, advantages if she fails to make use of her position and become a fine city. A sufficient quantity of land has been cleared of its burden and prepared as a recreation ground, thereby producing a very important adjunct to the forest pent. This, no doubt, will be A GREAT AT'TU-WT(ON and the means of bringing many to see the beauty of the place. Vancouver is full of Englishmen who think there Is nothing like cricket and football, and during the lovely summer weather which prevails in that balmy region I nm sure much time will be spent in all those enjoyments which constitute English life. I would be omitting one object of inter- est if I forgot to mention the Zoological Gardena. `When I visited this infant men- agerie the first that attracted my attention was a black bear, the source of a great deal of amusement for those who cane to time pant. A cage of racoons occupied the adjoining space and several different sarieties of birds were also on exhibition. This was all the little collection could boast of, bub it showed that the people of Vancouver did not think only of making money, and that they took pride in adorn- ing the land set apart for public pleasure. That portion of the grounds containing the menagerie is quite close to the water and on the other side can be seen, DAIS r AND 01h;4TI0, the tree covered Cascade Mountains, some. Ones showing their tops covered with snow but more frequently devoid of any sign of having encountered other than temperate rain mists. And now I think I have writ. ten enough to give seine idea what Vatican. ver's Park is litre. It may be a very damp place; too lonely, perhaps, and altogether' eco primitive for our cultivated ideas, but that Nature has bestowed upon this spot much beauty and many attractions 11000 will deny who have ever been there. A Shopping Exploit. " Do yon think it will fade'(" she asked anxiously, as she oiowed a mouthful of the goods. 'No'm, I'm sure it won't" " Nor shrink in the washing?" "Norm. These are linen threads," "How wide dirt you say it was '1" "Forty-two ioohes, ma'am." "That isn't extra wide. ' "It isn't merle any wider." "Are you surd it will wear well?" "Certainly, ma'am—like oast (roe," " And won't fade tar shrink ?" "Not the least bit;, ma'am." "Do you change goods 111 thisetote," " Not tater they are cut, ma'am" "Then I won't trade here 1 I won't pat- ronize a store where they're not more ac- conmoletJng," and she walked away, saving the clerk a wreck behind her. A Retort Disoottrteous. "'They say that horrid man next door compels his wife to put his shoos on every horning. I'd just like to see you trying any an'h it trick. I'd"— Nn danger, my dear, They arc too small for you." BEALTa. Nerve Hygiene. It cisme approved by experience that nerves and intiaclea which retnaill inactive lose strength and shrink ; and 'lust so the basin needs exercise, and in fact, earnest, hard labor, but not too emended, in order to become, aud remain strong and healthy, O1•er-weariuees anddover•exeition, however, injure the burin as they injure muscles and ' nerves, To furnish power and working onpacity the muscles and norvee require 0 sufficient amount of such nouriehment eo will produce matter and force; but over- feeding is au injury, It is just eo With tate bruin, deep is the indispensable rest of the brain, daring which it recovers the substance lost by the wear of the day, and gathers up strength. Good sleep is the fundamental requirenentfo brain health. Every nerve stimulant, and on the other hand, all sub- stances that produce artificial sleep, are nerve poisons, anti are to be oondemned by healthy nerve hygiene. The worst foea of the human brain are alcohol, morphia, ether, cocaine, and the like. Their nae fa never justified except very temporarily aa medicine, cr in order to allay the pain and the agony of death in a fatal illness. Every one who desires to aeoure and to strengthen a healthy and useful brain, trust first, not only labor physteally, but meutnl- ly : must really labor, and that daily, and not tae little, Four hours of work a day for a healthy being is altogether too little. Let any one spend his time iu enjoyment and idleness, and enjoyment soots ceases to be enjoyment. He will accumulate artifi- cial wants in ever increasing ntunbets until they burden his life. He will become snore and more dependentand morose. His men- oal horizon will grow narrower continually, and more rigid. The plastic brain of youth, that is, its docility and adaptability, will become less and less active and capable of comprehending and elaborating new thoughts, On the other hand,mental labor prescreen the plasticity of the brain to a tnuoh more advanced age. Idlers, therefore, in spite of the best brein eapscity,become prematurely old mentally, narrow -hearted, limited' in horizon, and not seldom absolutely stupid. We often observe moderately gifted stud. ents becoming, by means of work, sten of power; and highly gifted young men, by means of idleness, gradually grow usetesn, peevish, and now and thea narrow•miatled Philistines. — A Contrast. With an incredible fatuity we give our children plea, cake, preserves, hot biscuit, cotfee, pepper, and all other condiments we can minuet from the four quarters of the globe, and then wonder that their stotntchs and nervea are a wreck before they are fie teen. We hate seen children earry pepsin, and gamine to school to take with their dinner. Their parents were not invalids; they endowed their children with strong frames and good digestion ; but time young stomachs had been so debauched with vil- lainous hot bread, hot cakes drowned in syrup, strong coffee, fried potatoes liberally dosed with pepper, and other such abomin- ations, that they were unable to nourish the young bodies through the trying period of the summer season without help of the stimulants above mentioned. On the other hand, children eitting at the same desks, anon whom were origin- ally bestowed -no better physical systenlo, if as good, went through the summer in the enjoynmene of perfect health which 10 comprehended in the saying, " There wan little falling -off in the animal spirits, vigor, and color which they allowed in the far North." Why?—Because they were never allowed to take tea or coffee, pepper or spices, and seldom hot, heavy bread and rich pastry. They vete abundantly nour- ished on oatmeal and cream—Jersey milk with the Dream stirred in— graham or whole- wheat flour bread, made light and whole- some, and fruits well and plainly cooked, with not enough sugar to neutralize their natural acid. Sleek The phenomenon of sleep, one of the most common and the simplest of the func- tions of the body, lhas, until recently, been one of time most dmfhcult of explanation. It may not seem so difficult to understand why one becomes weary and desires sleep, although to the physiologist thts is by no means% simple problem • but when Due Is sound asleep, why should not one remain in a state of repose ? Herr Rosenbaum, ac- uording to the Revue Soieutifique, has made a discovery which he believes unravels the mystery of sleep. According to his obser- vations, weariness, or fatigue, is the result of changes in tate nerve cells of the brain, by which their solid substance is in part removed, as the result of work, and water substituted. In other words, the brain acquires an undue proportion of water. The result of this accumulation of water is to lessen the natural aotivity of the nervous substances, so that the external stimuli, consisting chiefly of the sights and sounds by which we are surrounded, are insufficient to stimulate the brain to active. tyq. When an extreme point is reached iu the substitution of water for the solid sub. stance of the brain, the individual falls asleep. During sleep, by the process of es- similatmuthe water is eliminated, and the solid particles obtained from the food de. posited. Thus the brain is restored to iso normal condition of excitability, and when this restoration is complete, the individual awakes. This explanation is certainly ln• genious, seems to be plausible, and is per- haps as satisfactory as any w1ti011 etas yet been propounded. Eeoipes on a Tombstone. A Parisian restaurant keeper, who de- parted this life some years ago, left hi fortune, a platter of 210,000 francs, to hie two nephe\ve. To this bequest a curmu. ounditiot, was affixed , The testator stipu later that, instead of the epitaph usually to be read on tombstones, his nephews should attach to that which marked hie final resting•placo a culinary recipe, to be renewed daily. To facilitate this he left 130G euoh recipes, the object in view according to his will, being to be useful to hie fellow - citizens after his, death. There exists, it ehonld be said, in .Franee an epitaph cont. mit.tee, and the members of the sante abso- lutely refuse to allow the t:ondition indi• cared itt the dead man's will to be carried out, The unpleasant consequemtoe for the nephews of the deoeaeod is that, according to the conditions of the will, they cannot touch the fortune left unless their late uncle's instructions be complied with, Modesty 11 , An Irish corporal, who now and then indWgee In a " noggin "of the ",rather, " was thus accosted by his captain while standing at naso "l'at, what snakes your nose so red?" "1'lose, your honour," said Pat, "T always b)ttshos When 1 spalres to atrtiicer."