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tributions from eminent men of science, and from some down upon the sand and give one hand a quick circular of the scientific services of the United States Government. motion, the sound is like the heavy base of a melodeon. Part II. will illustrate the growth of population from 1790
the steep incline, extend the two hands and to 1870, of the constituent elements of the population, and clasp as much sand as possible, slide rapidly down, carryof the social and miscellaneous statistics of the census. It ing all the sand you can, and the sound accumulates as will be published soon. Part III. has just been published. you descend until it is like distant thunder. In this exIt contains eighteen maps and charts illustrating the vital periment the sound was sufficient to frighten our horses, statistics of the census.
fastened a short distance from the base of the drift. But – Hon. Robert C. Winthrop writes to the Massachu
the greatest sound we produced was by having one native
his belly, and another taking him by the feet and setts Historical Society of a portrait of Washington soon to come into their possession, to which considerable in- dragging him rapidly down the incline, carrying as much
sand as possible with them. With this experiment the terest of an accidental sort attaches. A portrait of Wash
sound was terrific, and could have been heard many hunington by some unknown painter of inferior capacity was
dred yards distant.” A sceptically minded person, at this painted for the Stadtholder of Holland in 1780, and was captured, together with Laurens, our minister plenipoten- last experiment nust likely to be successful.
distance froin the scene, would be disposed to think the
A few natiary to Holland, in whose care it presumably was, when on his way to the Hague ; the captor was Captain Keppel incline upon their bellies, could be relied upon to make
tives east of the Rocky Mountains, drawn down a steep of the British Navy, who presented the portrait to his un
the earth beneath them sonorous. cle, Admiral Lord Keppel, and it thus became one of the treasures of Quidenham Park in Norfolk, the seat of the - The Chicago correspondent of the New York World Earl of Albemarle, the present head of the Keppel family. gives an interesting account of recent explorations made “ The main interest of the portrait,” Mr. Winthrop writes, in some of the singular gigantic mounds of the West, wbich “is derived from the fate which befell it, from the period bave given rise to so much speculation. The mounds of Washington's life at which it was taken, and from the selected were near the city of Rockford, Illinois, and the broad blue ribbon which is so conspicuous a feature of his excavations brought to light a remarkable tablet of Niagcostume.” The ribbon could not be accounted for by those ara spar, smoothly polished, about a quarter of an inch in who examined the picture, and was indeed held to confirm thickness, three and one fourth inches long, and two inches the mistaken notion that Washington was made a marshal | wide, covered with hieroglyphics of which the most noticeof France, when Rochambeau was sent over to our aid; able is a curiously wrought face, which is said to be very but Mr. Winthrop reminds the society of a paper upon this nearly a counterpart of the face in the centre of the great subject prepared by the late Judge Warren, showing that stone calendar of the Mexicans which was captured by the blue ribbon was prescribed as the distinctive designa. Cortez when he invaded Mexico, buried by him, and tion of the commander-in-chief, so that he might be recog- afterward rediscovered and dug up in 1791. Further renized by the troops to whom on his first coming he was so searches are shortly to be made. entire a stranger.
A fac-simile of this painting and also of the frame have been obtained, mainly through the
- Judge Wallace, of the Cook County (III.) Court, has agency of Alexander Duncan, Esq., of London, formerly rendered a decision of considerable interest to the Northof Rhode Island, who presents the picture to the society. western University, at Evanston, in regard to the amount All accounts seem to agree that the picture is more curious of its property that is to be exempt from taxation. The than valuable. It is a full-length portrait of life size.
university owns several hundred acres of land, including
a considerable area in the city of Chicago, on which it – It is reported that George Macdonald, the novelist has never paid taxes, exemption having been guaranteed and poet, who was so hospitably received here last year, by its charter. A large part of the city of Evanston is has determined to remove permanently to this country. also held by the university, and leased to occupants who We trust bis health will be confirmed, and that he may
The question before the court, accordable to select a residence favorable to it. We should ingly, was, whether land owned by an educational instituthink that such a writer could transfer his work from Eng- tion and leased “ with a view to profit ” could be taxed, land to America with little violence as a lecturer, better and the decision was in the affirmative which is certainly than he could as a novelist.
in accordance with equity and sound sense, whatever the
local law may be. The university has appealed to the · The Alta California gives a curious account of some sonorous sand recently presented to the Academy of Sci- Supreme Court for a reversal of judgment
. The decision
will be looked for with interest at the East, where the ences in San Francisco, from Kauai, one of the Hawaiian Islands. The sand was sent by W. B. Frink, of Hono- question has been agitated of late so seriously that it can
hardly be kept out of the courts long. It will be noticed lulu, who writes concerning it: “ The bank wbich is com
that the point is not of exemption from taxation of propposed of this sand commences at a perpendicular bluff at
erty held by an educational institution and occupied for the southwest end of the island, and extends one and a half miles almost due south, parallel with the beach, which purposes of education, but for such property held for revis about 100 yards distant from the base of the sand-bank. This sand-drift is about 60 feet high, and at the extreme - Kaulbach's great cartoon of the Era of the Reformasouth end the angle preserves it as steep as the nature tion, which was purchased after the exhibition in Paris, of the sand will permit. The bank is constantly extend- in 1867, by the late Mr. Durfee of Fall River, is to ing to the south. It is said by the natives that at the be exhibited with the Montpensier pictures at the Athbluff and along the middle of the bank the sand is not
It contains between 80 and 90 figures, and is 23 But at the extreme south end, and for half a feet in height and 26 feet in width. We understand that mile north, if you slap two handfuls together there is a the exhibition will also contain valuable pictures by Allon, sound produced like the low hooting of an owl — more or Carucci, Mengs, Douw, and other eminent masters,loaned less sharp, according as the motion is quick or slow. Sit to the museum by private individuals.
A JOURNAL OF CHOICE READING.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1874.
BY MARY CLEMMER AMES.
pretty manuscript book, which she made fair with such HIS TWO WIVES.1
infinite pains, cast into the waste-basket. A tiny waif amid an endless mass whose every unit was more per
fect than her own, its fate was inevitable. She knew CHAPTER XXV.
it from the beginning, but she was sorry just the same.
It was inexpressibly foolish, she was sure, yet how The spring wore on into summer. To Agnes the could she help loving this boy — this boy born equally days were all alike. She had glimp-es of the universal of heart and brain ? But she had no right to expect splendor without, from the little window where she sat anybody else to love him. “I do not expect it. I at work, but till past mid-August her old daily com- never expected it,” she said, humbly. Yet away down munion with the natural world was perpetually inter- in her heart all the time there was an ache for that rupted. As Miss Buzzill said, “the work hung on. boy. This same heart gave a leap every time Jim She never seed nuthin' like it afore.”
Dare appeared with the mail, for many weeks after The bees droned in the little garden. The humming. the departure of the precious package. birds flashed past the open window. From the early It was impossible for one so inexperienced in its mornings, through the palpitating noons, ihrough the ways, to realize the exigencies of a publishing office, long, lumicous midsummer twilights, Agnes worked or the inevitable delays attendant upon the reading, on. She worked as patiently, as skilfully, as success- acceptance, or returning of thousands of manuscripts. fully, as in the autumn before. Only she knew that For weeks Agnes was sure of some answer. When her work cost her more inward effort now than it did she had ceased entirely to expect any reply, it came. then. Because her employment had lost somewhat the It was in late August. She had reached the Pinnacle novelty of a new experience ; because it was summer at last, for her summer rest. Vida was playing in the and she longed for out-of-door sunshine and air, for all grass with Snowball, her own cosset lamb. Agnes the sights and sounds by her beloved, from which she and Evelyn were sitting on the door-step one Saturwas now shut in, she thought this inward reluctance day evening, when Jim Dare emerged from the woods,
To punish herself for it she doubled her dili- mounted on John, and riding up to the door placed gence, did as much again as was asked or expected of in Agnes’ hand a consequential-looking letter. She her, and made the Dutferin milliner more eagerly and opened it, and the first thing that met her astonished widely sought after than ever.
eyes was a check for one hundred dollars. She then She was not conscious that it was the keen delight read: which she had experienced in the use of her higher faculties that now made the most delicate work of her
Boston, August, 184, hands seem poor and paltry by contrast. Nor did she
ULM NEIL: know that somewhere far down in her soul there was
Dear Sir, — It affords us pleasure to inform you a low, vague pain, which stirred with the accepted that after a patient and impartial examination of over conclusion that the Boston publishers coincided en- one hundred MSS. (chiefly from ladies) the committee tirely with herself in their estimate of her mental work.
have chosen “ Basil: A Boy,” as distinctively worthy Worse still, the impartial committee of judges evidently
of the first prize. The amount, one hundred dollars were all of a like opinion. She was uiterly honest in ($100), by check we now inclose, which please acher own estimate of it. But it would be pleasant to have some one beside Evelyn differ from her on the subject. How pleasant! That difference would open utterly have entered into the boy nature and life. Hopfor her, though ever so little, the enchanted kingdom ing that the sales of this charming little book will warof thought at whose gates she would fain stand, though rant us in opening future negotiations with its author, she might never enter in. The world was behind her, we remain
Very truly yours, the door of its delights for her, forever shut. The
BLANK, BLANK & Co. love of man for her was not, and could never be more. If she had no place amid the lowliest in the kingdom
Agnes was so agitated that the letter dropped from of the mind, poor she was indeed.
her shaking hand, as she read the last line. In March she sent away her “ Basil: A Boy.” It “Oh, Evelyn!” she exclaimed. “I pray God to was past midsummer now, and she had not received a forgive my ingratitude of distrust. After all, after all, word concerning his fate. She had ceased to expect they have taken my story! It seems too much to beany word. Weeks before, her imagination saw the lieve. But it is true, for here is the hundred dollars ! ”
“ Didu't I tell ye? I knowed it all the time. I was
sure on it,” said Evelyn, forgetting all her later misEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by II. O. TIOUGHTox & Co., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
givings in the recollection of her early faith. “I told
the "No one but a man with the heart of a boy could so
ye so, you blessed child !” and she snatched Agnes to choose to spend that money in living on Dufferin Street, her heart.
but still persisted in burying herself and that beautiful • My mamma ain't a chile!” cried Vida from aloft, child ten miles from a post-office, in the wilderness at where she stood perched on the shoulders of the shout- Tarnstone Pinnacle, and abiding in a log. house with a ing Jim, who received the fact of the book, and espe- woman who had always been a servant. No informacially of the hundred dollars, as quite a family affair. tion imparted by Stella Moon could explain these un
“ Your ma has written a book!” he exclaimed, ex- explainable facts, nor ever could unless she opened altingly. “Will you ever write un, little queen ?” the letters of Ulm Neil as well as looked through
"No,"_piped the small sovereign. “Don't like them. books. Them's hard."
This lack of knowledge on the subject, accurate and “ Not a book 'bout a boy. I heerd y’ur ma read it. demonstrated, was painful to the Dufferin mind, but "Twus jest as plain as a b ab. She's got a hundred what cut it to the heart was that it was never again to dollars for it. What air you goin' to git, baby?”
a Darcy bonnet.” “ The middle people” went “A baby for my own se'f, with eyes so," blinking back to the Lake, “ the quality" to Montreal, to Lonher own.
• My baby hain't dot no eyes,” in tones of don, or Boston, with their custom. Miss Buzzill shut woe, as she struggled downward to inspect the myste- up her shop, doffed her canary bonnet, and went into rious bit of paper that was to procure her her longed mourning. “My fifth cousin is dead,” she said, “ but for idol. Evelyn took her into her arms.
’tain't that ; I've no courage to wear yaller, if 'tis “Your ma has writ a book,” she exclaimed with plain an' stiddy, when my feelin's ain't in keepin' ; unabated delight. “What does baby think on't?” never wus so upsot in my life.”
“Nuffin," replied Vida with an imperial air. “My The books of the Dufferin Bank showed that she was inamma will write more books, an' buy me a houseful several hundred pounds the richer for having opened of dolls with eyes so, an' a bell for Snowball, an' me a her shop the second time. But to have to close it just boo fock.”
as it was beginning to make her “fortin” would have Agnes had disappeared. She might have been been an aggravation to any business body ; but how found inside of her own shut door, kneeling by her could it fail to be a double one to a poor soul who, acjed with her face buried in it, just as she knelt years cording to her weigher and measurer, Evelyn Dare, before, when she prayed for grace to subdue the over- carried a “bump" of acquisitiveness on her head" as big powering emotions of her own heart.
as a turkey's egg”? Mixed with her grief at the loss the overflow of loving gratitude. Her of money was grief for the loss of the mother and child heavenly Father was good to her beyond all her who, together, in her sterile life, had been much to (loubts and all her fears, and oh, how far beyond her love. deserts! This thought filled all her consciousness. “Little yaller-headed tot! Ef I could only see her - What shall I render unto Thee!” she said in silence. runnin' round ag'in 'twould be a comfort, I du declare. · Let the words of my mouth, and the meditations of I've a feelin' for all young uns.
But I couldn't have my heart, be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, quite sech a feelin'fur her if her hair warn’t yaller, yalmny Strength and my Redeemer. So much of power ler as golden-rod alongside of the road. Jest like Tom is Thou givest me, of love, of insight, of help, I now Dare's when he went to spellin'-school along o' me. clo dedicate to the poor, to the afflicted, to the strug. He liked me then. I'm sure on't ; an’ he'd 'a' liked me zling, the lonely, the sorrowful of thy creatures, so far still, ef she hadn't 'a' come along with them dancin' eyes ils I may reach them, everywhere. So help me, 0 o' her’n ; an' she knows it, tu, an' she's never forgiven Thou God and Father of my spirit.”
me that he liked me once — alwus a-peckin' away at In September, Agnes went back to Miss Buzzill, Deary me! What hev I? Not even my bunnit and to her little shop at the Corners. But Dufferin, to shop! But I hev more money than one on 'em thinks its prolonged lamentation, that autumn wore the last fur, or ever will; an' every cent shall go tu that blessed bonnet fashioned by her hands. It did not forget her little yaller-head. I thought of young Tom Dare, but when she ceased to serve them.
I can't: he looks too much like her. When I coax litStella Moon, a young woman of an inquiring mind, tle yaller-head's ma to let her come to the Street to who attended at the post-office and brought the im- school, I'll hev su’thin' to comfort me, I guess.” mense weight of her curiosity to bear upon the unrav- Many were the pilgrimages that she made to the elling of all the family secrets of the municipality, Pinnacle. “Jest a sight of litile tot does me good, if whose position was most favorable to the pursuit of such I do hev to stan'an' take a rakin' to pay fur it," she knowledge, and whose opportunities and talents were said, alluding in her remark to Evelyn's criticisms ; generously devoted to the detailing of Dufferin news of “picking ” at Miss Buzzill being an undoubted pastime the most private and sacred character, informed the of her old-time rival. But the victim thought herself mourners for bonnets that were not, that Jim Dare richly rewarded for any infliction, when she bore away had taken from the post-office more than one letter di- “ little yaller-head” for a few days' visit at the Corrected to " Mr. Ulm Neil," which she knew as well as ners, as she often did. she wanted to was for Madame Darcy; and that one " I shall never send her to school while I can teach of them contained a check or draft or bank-bill. She her what she ought to learn, myself, and when I must, was certain, for she saw it when she held the letter up I shall go with lier,” said Agnes, in answer to Miss in a strong light and looked through it. If Madame Buzzill's entreaties. Nevertheless a tender pity in her Darcy was the recipient of drafts and bank-bills under heart for the lonely woman made the mother osten any name whatsoever, of course it was unnecessary for
share her child-treasure with her. her to make Dufferin bonnets in order to procure Could Stella Moon have imparted to Dufferin wommeans of support.
anbood the exact sum in the letter on which their The only unsatisfactory phase of the fact, and the un- favorite bonnet-maker had retired into the wilderness, solved mystery of it, was that Madame Darcy did not " to live on it,” as they supposed, they would have been
very much astonislied and considerably disgusted. to be sure that Mr. Ulm Neil was left in no mist what. “ The fortune from home,” about which their imagina- ever concerning what Mr. Blank Three wished from tion played, was a pittance much smaller than the profit his pen. of bonnet-making would have been for a single season ; Then the impalpable" Co.," with ethereal nose in the nevertheless it was sufficient to provide for her child's air, spoke his piece. In his tastes and sensibilities, not and her own wants for several months, while she em- to mention his mind, he had nothing in common with ployed her energies upon more congenial tasks. realism in literature. He could truthfully remark that
It was during the Christmas holidays that Agnes re- he despised it. In nine instances out of ten, realism ceived from Blank, Blank & Co. a letter which de- was simply literalism. Fiction was the realm of rocided what her work for the coming year was to be.
The House were aware that he failed to see It was a business letter, personally gracious, positively in Ulm Neil anything which its other members saw. a “feeler,” yet delightfully non-committal. It admitted Surely he was not a creator; he was not an inventor; that “ Basil : A Boy” was having “a fair sale," suffi- | he was not even a revelator ; he was simply a copyist, ciently fair indeed to induce them to propose to Ulm using other people's pigments. “ Basil : A Boy” might Neil that he use the same insight, sympathy, and de- do for a boy of an ichorous sort. The hand that limned lineating power which he had expended on boy-life and him could never paint a man par to the gods, or a a boy, in characterization of a more complex sort; in woman aerial as Undine, the only types meet to live in depicting men and women in their interplay upon each ideal literature. He had nothing to suggest to a writer other, while held together by a net-work of interesting who would never surpass elemental lines, or the crudcircumstances. The power displayed in the embodi- est forms of material character ; who would never soar ment of " Basil : A Boy” indicated subtler and acuter above the dead level of every-day things. In the depower in reserve, waiting encouragement and a subject sire of the House to obtain a second book from such a to reveal itself in complete manifestation and assured writer he acquiesced with the House, but he wished
Therefore Blank, Blank & Co. would venture the House to observe it was not without protest; and upon a few suggestions. Then followed “hints” for he would further remark that an ambitious book from one of those impossible books wherewith the best of so crude a pen, in his opinion, would prove to the publishers are fain to drive their authors stark mad in House a dead failure. advance, at the bare thought of producing. This one The result of this combined conference of Blank, being the joint product of a trinity of heads as incon- Blank & Co. went into the letter that penetrated the glomerate as so many repelling metal balls, all striking log-house at the Pinnacle. Considering the opposite toward a common centre of success, but by a route dis- elements of opinion which entered into it, it is not tinct and constitutionally opposite.
strange that it seemed doubly cautious and devoid of Mr. Blank One wanted a book “
racy, strong, smack- all positive praise, even for a publishers' letter. Nevering of the soil, strikingly original." Mr. Blank Two theless it contained a certain request for an impossible wanted a story of common life told in an uncominon book — a book not sensational, yet thrilling with sensaway, the opposite of commonplace, though entirely de- tion; a book real, yet equally ideal; a book uncommon voted to common things. He wanted every sentence about common things ; a book with wings to soar into filled with delicate touches, so delicate yet so astonish- the empyrean of romance; a book furthermore piquant, ing that unawares they would take the reader's breath
pathetic, witty, humorous, spicy, brilliant, taking, readaway, and when he caught it again the first use that he able, absorbing, and, beyond and above everything, a would make of it would be to say, “ Nobody ever said book that would be certain to sell. such an uncommon thing before about such a common “I cannot write such a book,” replied Agnes simply thing."
to these formidable Blanks, whom she had never seen, Mr. Blank Two thought well of Ulm Neil, but by no but whose supposed images made her quake. “I am means so well as did Mr. Blank One.
There were not certain at all that I can write any book that men whole pages in “ Basil : A Boy” that bore internal and women will care to read, but I can try. I am not at evidence of having been written when the writer was all sure that I can tell a story,' but I know that I can very tired indeed. They were languid, discouraged, tell the truth. If you wish me to do so I will begin at tame. He really could not understand how his senior once, and call it, The Annals of a Quiet City.'” saw a success so surely in a second venture from the On the receipt of this letter from Ulm Neil, the sensame hand. But he must warn Mr. Neil against tame- ior publisher went and took a fresh look at the accounts ness, minute description, and tell him to be sure to of - Basil: A Boy,” and then on his own responsispeak of common things in an uncommon way, if he bility, and out of the faith in his individual soul, just reintended to make an incisive mark in the world of letters. freshed and made stronger, surely, by a glance at his
Mr. Blank Three coincided with Mr. Blank One. cash account, he wrote to Ulm Neil : * Go on and There were indications — mind, he claimed “nothing write just what is in you — out; be sure of that; then more than indications” in this first book of a far I'll be sure, when you get it done, to sell fifty thousand higher level of power which the writer might attain in copies of
and look a second, if he chose. These indications he mentioned at it when you get discouraged - as you will. Everywithout the slightest exaggeration. Then if they were body does. that has anything in his head and heart never fulfilled, his colleagues would be moved to a less worth getting out. If it's worth anything, it is bedded emphatic “ I told you so.” He did not agree with his deep, and the getting it out is not so easy. You are a colleague in the type of book most sure to bring in sub- queer sort of a man, to feel that there is an adverse stantial rewards to the firm of Blank, Blank, & Co. mind against you in this House. Never mind. I am He wanted a book at once "spicy,” “piquant,” “ brill- its head, and you are my trump, as the • Adverse,' will iant,” “ fascinating;” a mirror of society,” “full of yet find out. Think of me, not of him ; of your copyincident,” yet in no vulgar sense “sensational ;” in fine, right, of your fifty-thousand books sold, and you will the American novel of the generation. He wished
you can't help it.”
If there were more publishers like Mr. Blank one, nothing save that she was face to face with her sorrow, there would be more successful books to make the pub- the sorrow which no one could measure, which the lishing heart happy and the publishing pocket plethoric. world would never divine. When the laughter of her Many a flower of genius has perished in its faint open- child was the gladdest, when the long note of the whising, and never grown to blossoming, because of the tling quail, floating out to her from the depths of the blighting and freezing air in which it tried to live, and woods, was the sweetest and the saddest, - how her by which it was doomed to die. Even the inspirational heart would vibrate and ache beneath the smiting hand faith of Mr. Blank one could not make Ulm Neil a of memory ! rapid writer. She felt too intensely, observed too No less the brain-task went on. The letter of Mr. minutely, compared too closely, thought too deeply and Blank one was pinned before her on the wall. She comprehensively, to produce swift results in embodied must not fall short of his expectation because her heart forms. Now for the first time she learned the true ached. What if it did ache? Was not that life? All significance of the lonely and silent hours of her past, of life to many! Should she shrink from her share ? when with a sleeping child in her arms, or when shut The brain, the hand, should go on. Yet there were away by weakness or sickness from the society of oth- moments, though rare
, when the head fell, when the ers, she had studied and thought and fed the springs hand grew still, when the woman said: “I cannot go of knowledge from whence, for the first time, she now on." When she first beheld herself as elected to lonebegan to draw for the help of her fellows.
liness for life, the realization was bitter. Yet of the Yet it was not because she had unconsciously trained cumulated dreariness of such days at that time she had her faculties that she now wrote. She could write be- no comprehension. To contemplate life in advance and cause she had lived ; because she had escaped no hu- in the aggregate is one thing; to bear life moment by man experience which could help toward her develop- moment, through emptiness, silence, loss, regret, pain, ment as a complete woman. As such, without know- is another and much harder thing.
She had many ing it, she now took her place in the race. Love, loss, consolations. The mother-earth was her minister faith, insight, sympathy, beauty, pity, suffering, soli and comforter. In this solitude she had found true tude, silence, out of these deep wells she drew for hearts to cherish her. But when the last good night the world's healing. The common people received her was said, when the last kiss to her child for the day gladly. They heard her voice and loved it. They had been given, when the last word of comfort for some came at her call and were refreshed and nourished by distant, unknown heart had been written, and she sat in her hand. She grew to be a power felt afar, not be- the stillness of the night stirred only by the wind rushcause she was great, but because she was consecrated ; ing through the fir-forest without; then through all because she knew her kind and loved them, and minis
her gratitude penetrated the consciousness that amid tered to their unvoiced needs ; because she wrought kindness and affection, in the ultimate sense she was with no thought of fame, but with a never-ceasing unutterably alone. Then, with anguish irrepressible yearning to serve her generation.
she beheld the life of love that she had missed, that Was it always easy ? Deep as her humanity was
was never to be hers. her womanhood. She knew now why woman has left so few enduring monuments built by her intellect to her own sex and name. Compared with man, what faint pleasure she takes in the pure use of her faculties.
FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD. From the beginning she invites her affections ; rather, they invite her. This only in the milder-natured
In the stronger, with the slightest lack of moral force, how often have reason and even conscience
On the turnpike-road, between Casterbridge and been overwhelmed. Yet with few exceptions is it not Weatherbury, and about a mile from the latter place, is in her emotional nature that she chooses to live and to one of those steep, long ascents which pervade the highhave her being ? She knew it now, this woman in her ways of this undulating district. In returning from mar
ket it is usual for the farmers and other gig-gentry to solitude, distilling the very life of life for her kind,
alight at the bottom and walk up. who knew not even that she lived; she knew it now,
One Saturday evening in the month of October Baththe utmost cost of the head to the heart. She knew by
sheba's vehicle was duly creeping up this incline. She what price of anguish to that heart she had risen to
was sitting listlessly in the second seat of the gig, whilst the absolute command of her faculties. Now she had walking beside her, in a farmer's marketing suit of unno mental force that was not available. Each one did usually fashionable cut, was an erect, well-made young her bidding, moving to the unyielding discipline of ne- man. Though on foot, he held the reins and whip, and cessity and will.
occasionally aimed light cuts at the horse's ear with the
end of the lash, as a recreation. This man was her husDeep down in her heart was there no resisting me
band, formerly Sergeant Troy, who, having bought bis dium ? no force in revolt, disturbing the perfect equi
discharge with Bathsheba's money, was gradually transpoise of mental balance ? Yes, it was there, the forming himself into a farmer of a spirited and very modunquenchable after-thought, half consciousness, half ern school. People of unalterable ideas still insisted upon sensation, wholly pain, the after-thought which has slain calling him “ Sergeant” when they met him, which was its millions. The very strain upon life involved in her | in some degree owing to his having still retained the wellsaying, “I will forget it ; I will ignore it; I will live shaped moustache of his military days, and the soldierly as if I felt it not!” was life-destroying. With all her bearing inseparable from his form. bravery of effort and of will, did not this after-thought have cleared two hundred as easy as looking, my love,
“ Yes, if it hadn't been for that wretched rain I should underlie and vein all that she felt, all that she saw, all
he was saying. “Don't you see, it altered all ihe chances ? that she did ? Amid her most cherished task it sud
To speak like a book I once read, wet weather is the nardenly confronted her, and lo! the very power of en- rative, and fine days are the episodes, of our country's deavor was gone.
For the time she was conscious of | history; now, isn't that true ? "
(To be continued.)
COMING HOME: A CRY.