n-cut, aristocratic face; then I shook his attend

mean?" I deman

g up in alarm. Indeed, we four, with our eager,

e are my friends," I answ

en-?" A wondering ga

ve bought the island. We

ll you, if he f

? W

will kill you, they-the pe

ack in confusion. And I spoke at a v

stantine Stefanopo

d. "He may be here!

re," said I grimly, for my blood wa

swered. "Alas, and he is wounded, I fear, to de

ed-by

became vacant an

e. My dear lord had yielded what they asked. Yet some one-no, by h

whole thing,"

of his house and race, they were furious, and Vlacho raised the death chant that One-eyed Alexander the Bard wrote on the death of Stefan Stefanopoulos long ago. And they came near with knives, demanding that my dear lord should send away the stranger; for the men of Neopalia were not to be bought and sold like bullocks or like pigs. At first my lord would not yiel

she drew herself up, and, after a glance at the old man, wh

nstantine fell on his knees beside him, crying: 'Who stabbed him?' And Vlacho smiled grimly, and the others looked at one another. And I, who had run out from the doorway whence I had seen it all, knelt by my lord and stanched the blood. Then Vlacho said, fixing his eyes straight and keen on the Lord Constantine, 'It was not I, my lord,' 'Nor I, by heaven!' cried the Lord Constantine; and he rose to his feet, demanding: 'Who struck the blow?' But non

that quivered with excitement; and I felt Denny's hand, tha

oved him. And she sat by him till Constantine came and told her that you would not go, and that you and your friends would be killed if you did not go. And then, weeping to leave my lord, she went, praying heaven she might find him alive when she returned. 'I must go,' she sai

re was silence.

blow, woman? Who

had struck her. "I do not kno

stricken man opened his eyes, his lips moved, and he groaned: "Constantine! You, Const

ine. I would have sent them-" His words ceased, his eyes closed, his lips met again, b

nst his kinsman and an old man, did a thing so rash that it seems to me now, when I consider it in the cold light of the past, a

I know his crime, that I know who struck that blow, and that what I know all men shall know, and that I will not rest day

and Watkins, not making bold to speak, ranged up clos

ooked at me wit

ld man, my lo

I. "Such courage as is needed to tell a scound

w. You would go to Rhodes, and t

es, if need be. He shall di

suade me; the treachery of Constantine had fir

and waste no time on it. We will watc

our own death. And you are young, and

een him look as he did then; for the gayety was out

er sad offices, and going back to our places, waited there till dawn began to break, and from the narrow windows we saw

said she. "Are you st

the same

down the road, between the high rocks that bounded the path on either side. Then we went and carried the old man to a room that opened o

five o'

live," said I, smiling, "if

ng back to the

"If we go this ruffian will

dt ended for me,

rded himself as the shepherd, his employers as the sheep. I believe thi

t a villain the fellow is, they'll turn ag

ined to do a rash thing, there is great comfort in feeling that

ied. "Then that se

ved Watkins, appearing at this moment with a large loaf

and its contents," s

a large chunk of native cheese; and

ows, there are two goats; and your lordship sees ther

, Watkins was so

mean?" I asked. "Well, I

approvingly; the guns were useless, rusted, out of date, and there was no ammunition for them. But when he had almost completed h

tion. "C.S. on the stock, I suspect

was employing himself in cutting imaginary lemons in two wit

aid I, "perhaps they

dt, taking an aim with the

tch. It was five

s settled. What a comfort!" I wonder

my whim, should have been utterly overwhelmed by the burden on me. But I was not. Perhaps Hogvardt's assumption of responsibility relieved me; perhaps I was too full of anger against Constantine to think of the risks we ourselves ran; and I was more than half persuaded that the revelation of what he had done would ro

se straight to the height of ten or twelve feet; from the top of this artificial bank they ran again, in wooded slopes, toward the peak of the mountain. I followed their course with my eye, and five hundred or more feet above us, just

oman," I

A peasant's w

e she went into the house, appeared again, and levelled at us what was, if I mistook not, a large pair of binocular glasses. Now, such things were not likely to be in th

m to like the lo

with deference, "she did not ex

hat's very likely

e survived all the disturbing features of the situation-by a call from Denny. In response to it I

proaching the house. It was a man riding a stout pony. When he came within about two hundre

my handkerchief in return. The man, reassured, began to mop his brow with the flag of truce, and put his pony to a trot. I now

or you," he cried. "I am wear

ad chanced to take possession of m

essage come t

equal meaning

to speak to a gentleman

ne Stefanopoulos,"

dmitted, with a careless shrug; "but her message was for

hat she sai

n my Lord Const

knows it, I hope-t

smiled

toward me. "Nobody has heard the message but the lord and one man he told it to;

up this murd

, it was an accident, done in hot blood. It was the

ted. "And a good many other people

at me agai

every man in Neopalia, what woul

"that they'd hang Constantine to

a nod; and he began to sing softly t

t his savagery, b

the l

d, and will do as her cousin bids

ment, fixing a keen scrutiny on Vlac

ently. "And they will r

ather annoyed. "There are one or two obstacle

swering." But I had a second shot in the locker for him, and I let him have

, "how many wives does Con

sung in glee. The fellow was dumb-founded.

urted out, with an attemp

, that the Lady Euphrosyne might care to kn

rand with his old, cool assurance; but the cl

e lady of the is

ay her cousin?

he mask any longer. "On behalf, then, of my Lord Constantine, I am to offe

going to

year, and give you

I began to think that perhaps I owed it to my companions to acq

e is one other small conditio

t? You're rich

ered any. It is that you

or the purpose

on your word of honor, to speak not a word of what has pass

won't give

i and Spiro are our men; there wil

at me. I took the liberty o

e, "as we know by now, a particularly sudd

y chance to find t

d; and I showed him the butt of my

onger. You have the bottle there, but most

h; we had only two or thre

ine's rifle," said I, pointing to the muz

ly became

ir?" he demande

l keep the island, and I'l

apidly off down the road. And I went back to the house, feeling, I must confess, not in the best of spirits. But when

the windows of his own chapel, a small erection at the west end of the house. There he must lie for the moment. This sad work done, we came back, and-so swift are life's changes-we killed a goat for

t had just begun to expound a very elaborate scheme of escape, depending, so far as I could make out, on our reaching the other side

owing on the blast, we heard, low in the distance and indistinct, yet rising and falling, and rising again in savage defiance and exultation, the death chant that One-eyed Alexander the Bard ha

ours must wait a little. Unless I'm very much m

d bolted the door, and sat down to wait. We heard the de

conti

OF VAR, FRANCE. FROM A PAI

xembourg, Paris. First exh

RY OF P

PASTORAL.-THE MEN OF 1830.-ROUSSEAU, DIAZ, DUPRé, A

ll H.

prevent complete submission to nature; absolute na?veté thus becoming only theoretically possible. Constable, with all his independence, dared not throw over all received canons of art. And Géricault, while daring to paint a modern theme, daring still more to embody it in forms plausibly like average humanity, and refusing to place on a raft in mid-ocean a carefully chosen assortment of antique statues, still did not think, apparently, that the heavily marked shadows prevalent throughout his picture were never seen under the far-reaching arch of the sky, but fell from a studio window. Nor do the early pictures by Corot free themselves from the influences of the academy at once. In t

n selling olive-colored cloth leading directly thereto) at length vanquished the parents' opposition to his choice of a career; and after a solemn family conclave, it was decided that he was to have an allowance of three hundred dollars a year, and be free to follow his own inclinations. Procuring materials for work, Corot sat him down the same day on the bank of the Seine, almost under the windows of his father's shop, and began to paint. It is

LE COROT. AFTER A P

Papa Corot," as he was universa

timid by nature, having met so far in life with little but disapproval, Corot disregarded his friend's advice at first, and placed himself under the guidance of Victor Bertin, a painter then in vogue, and, needless to say, deeply imbued with scholastic tradition. In his company Corot made his first voyage to Italy, in 1825, and thus came for the first time under the true classic influence. The lessons taught in the school of nature, where Claude had studied, were those best fitted for the temperament of Corot, who has been called "a child of the eighteenth century, grown in the midst of that imitation of antiquity so ardent, and so often unintelligent

AINTING BY JEAN BAP

, and treated with greater

with his two loves, nature and painting. Little by little he gained a reputation among the artists, especially when, after 1835, on his return from a second voyage to Italy, he found that the true country of the artist is his native country. After that period his works are nearly all French in su

birds always sang, and the shepherd piped to a flock unconscious of the existence of wolves, there were shown efforts in so many and various directions as to forever silence their reproach of monotony, so often directed against Corot's work. There were landscapes, showing the gradual emancipation, due to the most sincere study of nature, hard and precise, in the early period; vaporous and filled with sugges

JEAN BAPTISTE

master, executed during the transitional period, when he still gave great att

JEAN BAPTISTE

g in the Museu

ROM A PAINTING BY

iew. With Corot, however, it is impossible to make this separation. Every added detail of his life-and they are so numerous that in the difficulty of a choice they must remain unrecorded here-gives a new perception of his work. A youthful Virgilian spirit to the day of his death, as old at his birth as the classic source from which he sprang, he invented a method essentially his own, in which to express his new-old message. In our work-a-day, materiali

r of production; in the almost childish joy which the long neglected painter felt when dealers and collectors besieged his door; and, finally, in the necessity which arose for large sums of money to carry on works of charity, which were his only dissipation, and which it was his pride to sustain without impairing the patrimony which in the course of time he had inherited, and which he left intact to his relatives, Corot undoubtedly weakened his legacy to the future by over-production. In addition, his work became the prey of unscrupulous dealers (as there is nothing easier to imitate superficially than a Corot), and the mediocre pictures signed by his name are not always of his workmanship. Such works apart, his art has given us

ONTAINEBLEAU). FROM A PAI

ividual characteristics, makes this title, localized as it is by the name of a village with which a number of them had slight, if any, connection, a misnomer. The French name for the group, "the men of 1830," is more correct; for it was about that time that their influence in the Salon began to be felt, as a result of the pictorial invasion of Constable. Lacking the poetic feeling of Corot, and more realistic in his aims, though not always in result, Rousseau

OM A PAINTING BY CHAR

ng linen in the stream. Probably painted during one of the voyages of hi

FROM A PAINTIN

f the dramatic force of one who has b

OM A PAINTING BY L

ifice of general effect, this picture, nevertheless, gi

bove all, the close student of natural phenomena. He sat, an impartial recorder of the phases of nature's triumphal procession. Early and late, in the fields, among the rocks, or under the trees of the forest, his cunning hand noted an innumerable variety of facts which before him, through ignorance or disdain, the landscape painter had never seen. It is but fair to say that, like all pioneers in the untrodden fields of art, his means of expression at times failed to keep pace with his intention. His work is occasionally overburdened with detail, through the embarrassment of riches which nature poured at his feet. Then, heir to the processes of painting of former generations, it seemed to him necessary to endow nature with a warmth of coloring, an abuse of the richer tones of the palette, which we may presume he would have d

CK. FROM A PAINTING BY

idly painted, though, as was often h

t of them; Ziem even, who painted Venice for some years in the shades of Fontainebleau; Dupré, whose nature expresses itself in deep sunsets gleaming through the oaks of the forest; Daubigny, the youngest of the group, and the more immediate forerunner of landscape as it is to-day, then winning his first success; Decamps, who later sometimes left the Imperial Court, domiciled for the moment at the palace of Fontainebleau, and brought his personality of a great painter who failed through lack of elementary instruction, among them; Daumier, the great caricaturist, and possibly greater painter, but for the engrossing character of the work which first fell in his way-all thes

LT." PORTRAIT OF GUSTAVE COUR

iginal, in

of fa?ence. After a bitter acquaintance with poverty, Diaz produced work which brought him great popularity. The earlier pictures were studies in the forest of Fontainebleau, whose venerable tree-trunks, moss-grown; whose lichen-covered rocks, and gleaming pools reflecting the sky, he rendered with force of color and strength of effect. Gradually he began to attempt the figure, which in his hands never attained a higher plane than an assemblage of charming though artificial color; an

. FROM A PAINTING

, certain adverse critics finding in it an appeal to the socialistic elements. It represents a scene

ced painter seldom reached. Dupré, born at Nantes in 1812, and dying near Paris, at the village of L'Isle-Adam, in 1889, made his first important exhibit at the Salon in 1835, after a visit to England, where he met Constable. This picture, "Environs of Southampton," was typical of the work he was to do. A long waste of land near the sea, the middle distance in deepest shadow, and richly colored storm-clouds racing overhead; th

wenty years was known as a landscape painter. His work at that time was eclectic, sufficiently in touch with Rousseau, whose acquaintance he had made, to be of interest, but never revolutionary enough to alarm the academical juries of the Salon. In 1849, after a visit to Holland, he turned his attention to animal painting, and became in that field the first of his time. In common with his quondam comrades in the porcelain

. FROM A PAINTING

Jericho and fell among thieves is here treated as a pretext for a forcible effect o

h the preoccupation of combining the freshness of nature with the patine with which ages had embrowned the old gallery pictures; but Daubigny, looking at nature with a more literal eye than Corot, ran a gamut of color greater than he. It was Daubigny who said of Corot, in envious admiration: "He puts nothing on the canvas, and everything is there." His own more prosaic nature took delight in enregistering a greater number of facts. Floating quietly down the rivers of France in a house-boat, he diligently reproduced the sedgy banks, the low-lying distances the poplars and clumps of trees lining the shore, and reflected in the waters. He painted the "Springtime," now in the Lou

N. FROM A PAINTING BY

ountain" of red copper so often seen in French kitchens, it recalls the work of the old Holland masters, and proves that, in ou

beliefs of their time. They carried their work, however, to its full completion, and it remains the greatest achievement of this century in painting, the greatest in landscape art of all time. What the next century may bring is undoubtedly foreshadowed in the work of impressionistic tendency. It has the merit of being a new dire

A PAINTING BY NICOLAS

great popularity about the time that the picture was painted. The women represented, having fallen into poverty, are suffering from cold and hunger, the obvious end of the tragedy being explained by these

rrelay in 1838, and died in Paris, 1891, carried somewhat the same qualities to excess. His pictures, though undeniably excellent, are marred by the dangerous facility which degenerates into mere virtuosity. Charles Jacque, who was born in 1813, and lived until 1894, was of the original group living for many years in Barbizon. He was,

master in the peculiarly modern art of keeping one's self before the public, culminating in his connection with the Commune in Paris in 1871, and the destruction of the column in the Place Vend?me, there could be much to say. Courbet was, as a painter, a powerful individuality; of more force, however, as a painter of the superficial envelope than of the deeper qualities which nature makes pictorial at the bidding of one of finer f

aking and sincere representation of the life about them, in like manner Bonvin, bringing to his work much the same qualities, choosing as his subjects quiet interiors, with the life of the family pursuing its even tenor (or the still more placid progress of conventual life, like the "Ave Maria in the Convent of Aramont

here, and undoubtedly loses by it. The unfortunate painter, Octave Tassaert, who was born in Paris in 1800, and lived there, undergoing constant privat

sionistic tendency, with its negation of any pictorial qualities other than those based on direct study from objects actually existing. This would, if carried to a logical conclusion, eliminate the imaginative quality, and render the painter a human photographic camera. The other tendency is that which has existed since art was born, and which, though temporarily and justly ignore

AN' SAI

yard K

Room Ballads," "The

nto the Ditch aboar

an-o'-war got up in

rom off of 'er plates, an'

'er Majesty's Jolly-s

Gawd knows when, and 'i

egular line, nor 'e i

ddy herumfrodite-so

l over the world, a-do

th a Gatling-gun to tal

stead of a cot, an' 'e dri

lly-'er Majesty's Jolly

the top o' the earth the

ht on a bald man's 'ead

omin' cosmopolot-sol

we've fought em in dock, an

-sick scull'ry maids, an' w

r a double fatigue, fro

-'er Majesty's Jollies-

they steal for 'emselves, an'

d an' they're up an' fed

pin procrastitutes-so

of an 'arness cut or '

School mutiny along

n finish in style for the

-'er Majesty's Jollies-

was brothers to us, they wa

e chest an' the arms, they

ecial chrysanthemums-s

n the thick of a rush

u've cover to 'and, and l

o the "Birken'ead" drill is

lies-'er Majesty's Jollie

it 'adn't begun, they w

between drownin in 'eaps a

ll to the "Birken'ead" dri

e 'arf of us thieves, an' th

finish in style (which I

r o' you an' your friends an

kin' "Victorier's" Jollie

to say you don't know-they '

or whether it's ship, Vi

lies-'er Majesty's Jolli

CH

E. V.

y," "A Blizzard,"

ict rose a buzzing sound as they bent over their desks, intent on books or mischief, as the case might be. The teacher,

Stillman's read

e delinquent, a girl of about fourteen, slowly rose and,

'The Pilgrim's Progress.' No wonder you are intere

of large blue eyes, beautiful with

I wanted to see how they got

the book after school; the

ed; "father won't let

eacher; "but I will keep it until recess to-morrow, and, n

and, with a grateful smile,

ing, take your places

ears her elder. The teacher had promised a prize at the end of the term to the member of the class obtai

was head, and for some time no change in position was made. But finally "somebody blundered," and Rachel, who was one of the good s

id the teacher, "for that

and, a few minutes after, sch

nger sister, a pretty, delicate child, passed him at

uess he'll get out. Didn't h

was the reply. "Hope I

ad turned toward his desk, and the sist

what manner of home it is to

more girls and another stalwart son, is a stout, comfortable-looking man of forty-five or fifty. A glance at his close, thin lips and keen gray eyes would convince an observant person that he would make it very uncomforta

two daughters, Elizabeth, a sad-faced woman of twenty-four, and Margaret, a girl of eighteen, with her father's determined mouth and chin and her mother's large bl

s, and get warm," said the mot

, Susy? I got another head

" She was interrupted by a stamping of feet as the door was thrown ope

Mrs. Stillman. "We were

get some water; the bucket's empty, of course. Margaret, where's the wash-basin? Noth

asin, Margaret handed a towel, Rachel brought the water, and

d had apparently put him in a better humor, "I think we'll have fine wea

"don't butcher next week. F

father. "Well, we always butc

f her effort to control herself. "But we never have en

I suppose", with a look at his wife from which she shrank as from a blow,

r temper getting the better of her; "but nobody else tak

ather. "What do I care what anyb

uld not be denied. He was master, an

ter as those she shed when first she held their innocent faces to her heart. When on this evening the father had shown his authority, the two elder daugh

hurried through the work and hastened back to the kitchen, where Rachel and the mother were

ermitting a fire kept in any other room in the house. Mrs. Stillman sat down with her knitting-work as close in the corner as possible; Elizabeth brought in a large basket of rags, and

unforgivable offence. At last, however, Mr. Stillman lifted his eyes from the

st head mark rankled in his mind, and he ad

sharply. Poor girl!-deep in the mysterie

"what were you called u

read a little in 'The Pilgrim's Progr

to school to study, and you're not

it home?" s

can find enough to do at home. Not another w

te; but tears would come, a

said her father angrily. "

oom, what bitter thoughts sur

could not be satisfied with what he chose for them, it was not his fault; it was their perversity. And as no two souls are ali

second daughter, had escaped by marrying a clever young man, who first pitied, then loved the daughter of hi

reatly, and all intercourse with th

process; and having a goodly portion of her father's determ

ons it was different. They would be men some day. They must be treated with some consideration. At an early age, John, two years older than Elizabeth

ard and a scanty, grudgingly given wardrobe. She was now twenty-four, and had never had a five-dollar bill to spend as she pleased in her life-for that matter, neither had the moth

to her was very real, and to leave her hero in that awful dungeon was almost more tha

never forgot these readings at intermission, which were continued not only until Christian reached the Celestial city, but until Christiana and the children completed their wonderful journey to the same place. Her gratitude to her young

his profession-was over. He liked some of his scholars very much, Rachel especially; she was so interested in her studies, so intelligent and grateful, that when, with eyes sw

Suse cry when old Gray bid us good

ry?" asked

ool's out; an' I'm n

ow." She always called him "bub" when she wanted to vex him, "But

ation, and Tom went out, banging the door after

that she could not entertain her young friends in return. She had attempted once to fix up the "spare room" and have a fire for some company, but her father had peremptoril

ome from meeting one Sunday with Elizabeth was so completely abashed by the cool reception he met that not even the daughter's pleading eyes could

, was more successful. He usually brought his mother with him; and, while she entertai

He can't keep us out of the spare room in su

hands employed, but not in the house. Why, there were five women, counting frail little ten-year-old Susy as one, and poor, delicate Mrs. Stillman as another! What extra help

mplain. She was only more shadowy and quiet; and Mr. Stillman told his daug

-tubs, while Susy labored at the heavy churning and the mother and Elizabeth were p

would do to cut before the sixth. And oh, Margaret, I heard him say your calf would bring at least ten dollars; an

though, it was so near dead! Of course I will fix my old dress up for you-that is, if I get the money. Sometimes I think

wagon preparatory to taking it to the butcher in the town a few miles distant. When the girls went

Stillman handed Margaret a package, saying, "Th

"Why, you gave me the cal

ce of cheap lawn-yellow ground dotted with blue. She f

of dumb amazement, and said: "You can have th

take Margaret's money. You did give her the calf,

lman to his frightened wife. "They'll be turning u

went on: "That calf was mine. I only

him with eyes keen as his own; "but you told her if she could

r; then, as she did not move or drop

ly: "We have no decent clothes to go in anyhow." And there was much washing, ironing, cooking, and churning done as the days went on. No wonder Mrs. Stillman grew paler and weaker, until even her husband noticed it, and brought her a bottle of bitters, and told the girls to "keep mother out of the kitchen," which they indee

ning when the mother did

nd for Dr. Lewis, fa

directly. You keep her out of the kitchen, and see you have dinner on time. We w

llman was in bed. While the men were eating, Rachel slipped in to her mother.

, "you are very sick; y

r is too busy now. I'll be better after

t fly-brush, Rachel," said her father. "Susy'

that morning, crimsoned to the roots of her hair as s

nto the room where his wife lay. "She is a

-day," said Rachel. "Hadn't

she's no better in the morning, I'll sen

rightened as the mother's fever increased. When that good wo

d in his buggy as I came," she said.

seeing the last load of grain driven inside the barn door; and, taking off his hat, he wiped the mo

nown figure of Dr. Lewis on the front porch. "Driven in by the r

s he stepped upon the porch. "Luc

say I find Mrs. Stillman a very sick woman. You shoul

until to-day. I guess it's this weather ha

hange for the better soon, I fear she will live but a few days. I cannot

er own capable hands. John and his wife were sent for and came, and Jim Lansing quietly hitched up a

e would die-his wife. It was the hot weather; she was just weak and tired. That was it, Mr. Stillman-worn o

er with dimming eyes that saw no more of earth, and muttered as she turned upon her c

to hold, kept reaching out as if to grasp that unknown land she was so soon to

r his dead. "If I had known," he said. "Oh, my wife, i

one who with remorseful heart cries, "I

luence was withdrawn, became more and more meddlesome and overbearing in his conduct toward his sisters. The summer following Mrs. Stillman's death Mrs. Lansing's eldest son, Frank, took unto himself a wife; and late in the fall the neighborhood was electrified by the unexpected marriage of Mrs. Lansing and Mr. Stillman. Her boys, on learning her intention, had remonstrated; but she said: "You boys do

ad fix over there; but it isn't Susy

t," she said; "she and Elizabeth need some one to

ve Margaret's happiness into Jim Lansing's keeping, and made Jim a young man of whom his sisters were extremely proud. Even Elizabeth's sad face looks as if life

as she thinks best, taking it for granted that her husband will approve. As for Rachel, she enjoyed the change for the better; but now, to the bitter feeling which she cherishe

simply took her proper place as mistress of the house-not as a sor

entering the dining-room, where she was preparing the table for supper, exclaimed: "Rachel, do y

"I remember him.

re this evening; so fix up nice and be looking your sweetest. They say he's smart. I heard some of the o

were dressing after supper, "you are very hard to

she entered the little parlor, where Tom and the guest were seated, i

her. How goes the b

nd Tom declared that he fell in love then and there. However that may be, it is certain Mr. Gray showed a wonderful interest in Stillman's district. The trial in progress at Meywood was

vor of Mr. Gray's client. As Rachel congratulated him on his vi

stay in Doubtin

not think a promising young lawyer, as father

whispered promise of speedy return to Rachel, and as he travel

ould have become such a woman? No wonder I could not

to himself, those eyes had held him. At any rate, he says they did; and when, time after time, they drew him back to S

nt-Martha and Margaret, with their sturdy boys and rosy girls; Rachel, with her baby; and Susy, a gay young aunt, flits to and

garet, "that Lizzie's minister shou

the same low tone. "I am s

rs of her childhood were spent, her tears fall, thinking of herself and the dear, patient mother, who had suffered and died; and the old bitterness rises in her heart. Baby stirs and she hu

amp is burning, and she half turns to go out; but something in his attitude touches her.

ow age is tracing lines on his face. "A

her a faded daguerreotype of her mother taken when sh

he said, with tears fal

have bought that pretty little place of Perry's, and I will put Martha and her husband on it. Dick's a good industrious fellow; but it's hard to ma

her life; and as she slips the little daguerreotype in his hand a sweet peace fills her heart and she thinks: "The bitterness is go

, as she sits down beside her husba

whispers. "You ar

had a vision of the land of