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"We will cling to the -ilr fteTml forLieteadi tms al SIMRDRISOE & CO.,Porers EDGEFIELD, tS. C., APRIL 1, 185.-*t Fron Ballou's Dollar Monhy Magazine. LULIB: -OR, THE FAIR SLAVE OF ISMID. Tua city of Ismid is situated at the head of a gulf of the same name, and is touched by the great road from Constantinople to the south ward. The place contains but little of material interest, save one old castellated structure, and the remains of antiquity which are to be found in the yards 'of the tomb-stone corners. It was anciently the seat of the kings of Bithynia, and once the residence of Hannibal, and if I may believe the begging tehawooska who acted as my guide, I had the pleasure of standing in the very apartment where that mighty general used to sleep. But what I saw has little to do with my story. Ismid is the seat of a pasha, and at the time of which I write Benmousoff held that high office. He was a fat, lazy Turk, over half a century old, and if he was honest it was because he could make the most money i-y being so. The pasha had one son named Gaib. This was his only child, and he loved him well-so well that he would even stretch his authority at times to please him. Gaib wa; five-and-twenty when for the first time in his life the thought of mar riage -entered his head. Ile did once make some advances to the daughter of the Captain Bey, but he was coldly turned away, and all thoughts of love were banished. The truth was, Gaib was not only of a wilful and ugly disposition, but he was very homely in person, having only one eye, and being otherwise disfigured. So the youth resolved that he would not force himself upon the fair sex again until he could find one whom he could command to share his lot. One day Gaib entered his father's presence in great haste. " What is it, my son?" the old pasha asked, noting the youth's excitement. "Iii the market-place-at the shop of old Abraham-there is a Greek girl named Lulee. She is for sale. I want her for a wife." "A wife, Gaib? And will my son take a wife from among the Greeks? Can you find--" " Stop, my father. Go first and see Lulee. Such beauty ne'er before was meted out to hu man form. I must have her, and you must go and see her ?" " But how much does the old Jew ask for her ?" " He asks two thousand piastres." "A great sum, my child." "For great worth. But come-you must go with me to the market. My heart is set upon the possession of this slave, and I must hate her." The pasha saw that hjs son was determined, ---d er-hasmonbise4eniskandprepared-to prdfollowon tothe bazaar. When the father and son reached the shop of Abraham, they were at once admitted to the room where the slave was. Even the old pasha was wonder-struck by the girl's marvellous beauty. She was not over sev enteen, and as fair as the very roses that clus tered about the lattice near which she sat. There was much of the voluptuoSs in her round, full, perfect form; but in her beautiful face all was purity and native modesty, with a tremu lous, shrinking expression, which revealed Lout a little of the anguish which lay at her heart Her story, as told by the Jew, ,u as simply this: About a year before she had been stolen away from her home in Greece and brought Zither by a corsair. He (the Jew) bought her at once, and had since kept her at work in his kitchen. But now he had found a cheaper cook, and he wanted the money for the fair Greek. Benmousoff~ acknowledged that he had never before seen a female so lovely, and knowing that no respectable free woman would take his son for a husband, he resolved to buy the love ly slave. Accordingly he paid over to the Jew, two thousand piastres, and the maiden was de liveredl into his keeping. " You are mine now," the pasiba said, as he~ took the girl by the hand to lead her away. Lulee crouched close to the old man, at the same time casting upon Gaib one of those fright ened looks such as a fawn might give a wolf. She drew down her veil, and then Benmousoff led her from the place. When they reached the pasha's seraglio, GCaib followed them. " Lulee," spoke the old man, "you zmay ban ish all your sears, for your station is to be an honorable one. My son takes you for his wife." " Your son !" uttered the.Greek, with a fear ful start " Where ishe ?" "lie stands by your side." Lulee cast one frightened look upon the young man, and then, with her small white hands clasped, she uttered: -" Spare me-0, spare me ! I can cook, and wash, and scrub; and I can be as faithful as the sun. But spare me from this! 0, 1.ave com passion !" First Gaib's countenance assumed a troubled, chagrined expression, but a look of anger quick ly followed. He moved to the maiden's side and placed his hand upon her shoulder. '- Lulee," lhe said, in a low, hisaing tone, " you are to be my wife. if you are wise, you wil beware. There are tortures more painful than death-and fate may hold in store a positioin worse than that of wife !' With a quick, cold shudder, the poor girl shrank back and covered her face. Thie wild heaving of lhe: bosom told how deep was her' agony, but no tears came to relieve her bur dened soul. " Yes, Lulee," said the old man, " thou art for my son, and he will make thee his wife. lie faithful, and thou shalt be hapy." Ere long the fair slave wais conducted to the apartment which had been set apart for her, a and here, when she was alone, 4h wept. Lit tle dreamed the pasha and his son t~ secret of the Greek girl's heart. Night came on, and a black slave camne and lighted the lamp which hung in Lulee's rom. It emitted a grateful perfume as it buirnled. and cast a soft light upon the place. Surely t he apartment was a sumptuous one, and the eye tired not in viewing the costly trappings that decorated the ceiling and walls Yet Lulee no ticed it not. With her head bowed, she groaned in the deep agony of her soul, and anoit a hurst ing prayer canie forth from hcr lips.. Thus she sat when her door was slowvy, noiselessly open ed, and a human being, milled up in a long cloak, entered the apartment. Lulee started up, and the expression upon her face was a enm rious one. There was more of some strong, reckless determination, than of re-iinat ion. And then her right hand was hidden in her bo som, and one who had stood by her .ide mi ht have seen that she clasped the jewelled hilt of' a small dagger. The person who had entered stood a moment near the door, and as he seemed to have recog nized the maiden, he let the cloak fall from his shoulders and then turned, his gaze full upon Lulee. He was a young man-not over thr~ee -ad twante.-tall-and nobly formed, with those dark eyes and richly flowing hair, and thos pure. classical features which mark the Greek youth. " Lulee," he said, in a low, sweet tone, "have I found thee at last?" "Alphion!" burst from the maiden's lips, an she gave a spring forward. "I am not deceiv ed ! 0, speak to me!" But ere he could speak, she was folded to l'is bosom, and for a while the two wept in silence. "Lulee-Lulee," the youth whispered, in a tremulous, fearful tone, art thou yet a wife ? the wvife of any man? "No, no, Alphion," the maiden quickly ut tered. "0, no. So far God has been most kind." " But the old pasha bought thee for a wife ? "Ay-for his son. But no stain should have come upon me. I am prepared. Since first I left my native shores I have not lost this last, sure friend." As she spoke, she drew forth a small dagger, and the expression which rested upon her face at that moment showed that Gaib could never have found a living wife in his slave. "Bless thee," the youth murmured, as he again caught the fair girl to his bosom. "Lulee, I have found thee at last, and henceforth we live or die together. For one long year I have searched for thee in vain. When they snatched thee from our home, I knew it not until two days had passed. Who was it that did the deed -and how ?" " A foul corsair-a Turk-landed near our cot at Dyro--and I was upon the beach. The demon seized mne and bore me off, and brought me here and sold me to the old Jew, with whom I have lived ever since until this day." " I sought that Jew, for I had learned that thou wrast with him," returned Alphion, folding the maiden again to his bosom. "I saw him but half an hour after the pasha had taken thee way, and since then I have watched about this place. I was in the garden when they brought thee to this room, and I saw thee pass in. I saw the black when she came to light the lamp, and when she was gone I staked my life upon the hazard of reaching thee. A friendly vine ave me access to the balcony of the corridor, and with my dagger I easily picked the lock of the outer door. Now flee with inc. A vessel awaits my cominiig.' "Flee?" murmured Lulee, gazing first into Alphion's face, and then bowing her head until it rested upon his bosom. " Ay. Thou hast not forgotten our vows, sweet Lulee. Thy heart is not-" "-sh! Mistake me not. 0, Alphion, for this long year I have only lived in the love of thy noble heart. In the darkest hour of all that time I have never wholly lost my hope of seeing thee once more. Flee? 0, -yes. I could face a thousand deaths so that I only gained a step towards the land of my birth, and the home of my father. Lead the way, beloved.' Lulee raised her head from her lover's shoul der as she spoke, and she had just turned to obtain a light capote which hung near, when'a heavy step was heard in the corridor. The lovers started with affright, for now each had something besidai.sel-at stake. - " Flee !" gasped Lulee. P But whither ?" asked Alphion, gazing quick ly around. There was no place within the apartment ihr concealment, and if there hail been the youth could not have reached it, for hardly had the words pa..ed from his lips when the door w.s opened, and Gail, entered the chamber; and as he gave utterance to an oath of astonishment and rage, Alphiona drew his dagger. But faih :moved not towards him. lie took a wi.er course. As soon as le could compreheni the meaning of what he saw, lie leaped back into the corridor and called out for his alaves. It so happened that four stout eunuchs were engaged within a short distance, and they were quickly upom the spot. "In there !" cried Gaib. pointing to the room: he had just left. "Seize the dog and hind him! The eunuchs ruhed in with Vatalmas drawn. and but for Lulee the youth would hanve beeni instantly killed, for lie had prepared to fight to the last. She knew his bold, daring spirit, and she saw the danger which thareated him ; so shet threw herself npjon him, murmuring as she did so "lDie not now, Alphaion." On the next mnoment the youth wvas seized by both arms, andi he could resist no more. "Away with him !" shouted Gaib. " Take him to the prison and tell the keeper the pasha sent hi . The ill-fated youth cast one look upon Lulee ere he was led away, and as he turned from her she fell fainting to'thme floor. Gaib raised hera up and laid haer upon a seat, and then called some of the womien, who were quickly on hand. The young man wvaited an hour, but Lulee still remained unconscious, anid he retired. Once she opened her eyes, ad a ray of intelligence gleamed therefrom, but it quickly passed away. Midnight came, and- Gaib returned to the chamber, but hc found thme beautiful Greek now raving. H~e stood awhile by her side, but she seemed not to know him. " That wvas a jacwin, or some evil genie, whc came in here," said one of thae women. But Gaib made no reply. lie waited until he was assured that she had not her senses, and then he departed. Two of the femnales were left to watch by the couch of the Greek. It was some two hours after Gaib had gone that Luee opened her eyes and found the two wo men asleep. She gazed quickly about, and then she clasped her hands and prayed, and the aame of Alphion was in her prayer. While she was thius enigagedl, one of the wat!chers awoke. In an instant the expression of Lulee's countenance changed, and only mecaningless words dro)pped from her lips. "Poor ting!" P uttered thme sympathizmg black. " It was surely some child of dlarknless who canme here to see hier-perhaps Eblis him self Fair lady, how feel you?" "ha, ha, ha," laughed Lulee, with a wild ex preion. And then she muttered over manym words of no meamning. The dayhighat camne, and (Gaib visited his slave mgain, hut lie.gained no reason from her. He sent for the physician, and when the min of drugs caine, lie asked him to cure his beaumtiful beloed. The physician examined her case, and thlen shook his head. ' 11er reason hiathi left her," lie said. "But what shall cure lier ?" aisked Gaih. "Somec of my medicine, and patience," an swered the p~hysicianm. Accordingly he dealt omit some simple druigs, and promisedi to call agnain onr the followinah iornig, if no't sent for before. Oce during the day Lulee was lelt alone, fori hicr attendanits thouglht her asleep. Wheni they wee gone, lhe arose to a sitting piosture and clasped her hands. "0 God of all mercy !" she calmly but fer veatly prayed, " save himi,, () save himn ! Lit nat the hand of evil fall upon him,." Thenu she howedl her head, and not until she heard the footsteps of the coming attendant did she lie down again And when the attendant liad caie that look of intellinence had passedl away, an' t he hone t wi men who watched lher thonghtl her still inane. .And so the night came again, and when Gail came he found his purchased bride still insensi uml .bharmaiOa Hetraied upon haafe moments in silence, and then, with a sudden earnestness, be clasped his hands and hastened from the apartment. Alphion sat upon the cold stone floor of one' of the deep, strong dungeons of the prison of Ismid. The day had gone, and the deep black ness of starless night was upon him. No chains were yet upon his limbs, for the dangeon was strong enough. He sat there, with his hands clasped, and he only looked for death to release him from the place. Thus he sat when the sound of feet were heard without-then came the creaking of the heavy bolts--and then the door was opened, as t.:e prisoner could tell, not only by the grating of the rusty hinges, but also I by the stream of light which came pouring into the dungeon. The new-comer was enveloped in a sort of long peredjee, but for a while the sudden transition to such light deprived the prisoner of the power of sight. "Prisoner," spoke the intruder, placing his lantern upon a low wooden bench, "I have come to ask a few questions of thee; and if you value your future welfare, you will give me truthful answers." It was the voice of Gaib. The youthful pris oner knew it in a moment. But ere he an swered, his eves had become used to the light, and he could now quite plainly distinguish his visitor's features. " Speak on," he calmly answered, rising to his feet ; for until this moment he had remain ed in a sitting position. " You were in one of the apartments of the pasha's harem last night, and with the young Greek girl, named Lulee ?" said Gaib. " I was," replied Alphion. "Now tell me why you were there ?" The prisoner paused ere he answered, but lie finally resolved to tell the truth. "I will tell you," he said, at length: " Long ere the gentle Lulee was torn away from her home I knew and loved her, and, more than that, she loved me. I had asked her to become my wire, and she had promised. When the foul Turk stole her away I was absent. 0, had I been there they should have found their graves in the sands of our coast ! But I was away. When I returned, Lulee was gone. 11er poor old father limped out and told me the sail story. le had seen the whole, but lie could not pre vent it. I started oil and for the long year I have searched in vain until yesterday, when I learned that she had been taken to your se raglio." "And why came you to her ?" is To free her from your power." " And for nothing else?" cc-:lse ?" repeated Alphion, with a burning cheek. " Beware, sir, that you do not-" "hold," uttered Gaib, in a tone of relief. " I believe your words. I feared at first that you meant a more accnrsed blow than to deprive me of her presence. But I knew not why you were ther.i, and hence have I come to see you." " Did not Lulee tell thee ?" " No. She could not." " Could not ?" " No. Her mind is unbalanced. She has spoken-neord., f sense -since- y rnwere'ilthf heer." The Greek youth started as he heard this. aid for a moment he stood as one fear-trmuck ; but on the next instant he trembled as thugh an electric shock hail passed through his system. anl then his fiatures settled into a look of strange intent. Is the maiden sick ?" he asked ; but in a toime which, to a close observer, wmouid have shownm tlat his real thmoughts ha1 not lui t " do with the question. " Not Very," was the answer. P Poor ilee !" miurinarel Alphion, sowine hii. head and covering hi ine e With) his hw. ' Thou art lost ti i ihreer !" Yet idle iipeaker lost not siit of his vi-it'r, for had Gaib looked sharply lie might have seen, like a dianmond inl the dark with a single ray of light reflected from it, the glaming of the youth's dark eye. But Gail I suspected naothimg. lie believed that the G reek's agony hail criushecd him, lIe stood. with his hads fohled in his capote, silent Iv and earnestly regarding the pirisoner. In ain intant thme Greek biommded forwamrd and forced Gaib back upon the woodeii beinch, and, erc thme astounided nian could recover, his short sabre wa taken fromi him and he wais defeneeless. "Now, foul Turk," uttered Alphiion, between his clececd teeth, " thou art in nmy power, and as sure as there is a Great Spirit who sees us both, I will kill thee if thou dost not obey iec! Mark me-I fear not the takinig of thy life, fo. well do I know that I have been doomed. I would kill thee as 1 would crush the asp I found among my choice fruit !" "Mercy ! Do not iurder me here in cold blood ! 1 will cry-" "-sh !" interrupted the Greek. " Make but one sound above thy breath, and this weapon, finds thy heart. 1 speak not idly now. But obey me, and thou shalt be spared. Do as I bid thee, and i'll harm thee not." "And what wouldst thou ?" Gaib gasped, utterly fear-strice. " Remove thy capote and thy beneish-thy sash and belt-thy shoes and trowsers, and cap. Come-basten." " But wherefore this 7" " To save me the work of killing thee, and then taking these things from thy dead body." " But what want you withI them ?" " Mind you not that. I eonly bid you remove the garments.-Byv the powers of heaveni, sir, you live not a minute longer if you hesitate !" Gaib gazed upon the prisoner's powerful frame -he felt the iron grip up)on his arim-and, more over, he saw the gleamaing sabre pointed to his heart. With a deep groan lie threw off hisfer ede", or capote ; then lie removeid his beneish a cloth garment, worn over thme linen jubbee. But here lie hesitated. " What would you do with these things ?" he eagerly asked. "Why, since thou art so inquisitive, I will tell thee: i would make may escape from this accursed pla5ce ; anid when once clear of it I will never be found ini Ismnid again. Now oilf with thy shoes, and then the trowsers." " But-" " Ha ! Shall I strike ?" " Hold ! Mercy !" "Quick, then !" Gaib quickly divested himself of~ his shoes anal trowsers, and when thias was donethie Greek seized him and threw him down. 'With his handkerchief lie firmly bound thme young Turk's arms behind hlim, and' then with his red woollen scarf, or sash, lie as firmly bound his leg. This done, he lifted Gaib to a sitting pos ture, and thenm, with the latter's own kerchief, heoun up his mouth so firmly that he could not utter a sound above a mere guttural groan. Aliun's next nmove was to remove his own uper garmnents, and ini their place lie donned to~e ot his victin. When lie had wound Gaib's sash about his loins, and buckled on his sabre, and donned thme heavily tasselled cap, he turned to thme bound man, and s'iaid: " Now I fancy that T may pass in the (lark for thme pashia's son. If thme jailor treats you as well as lie did me, lie will- bring you a erust of bread ini the morning, and then he may set yon free. Farewell-and if I rever see yon again,| you may keep may poor arents iii remem-| 'uansa af Oie whO hah TJ IaE d you in dtz rance for a few hourthat lhe might escape an ignomiious death." (; The poor Turk ma a desperate movement,! but he could not a' o his feet, and without waiting longer, Alph picked up the lantern and turned towards door. When he reached the low vaulted p , he closed the door af ter him and bolted'. and then he hastened away toward the a . He 'remembered well the way by which . cone down, and he had no difficultydn' ng the same way back. He had to asceiid on one flight of steps, and though the upper co or was long and narrow, yet it was straight, ere long the fugitive came to the office; ere were two Arnaoots there, one of whom asleep over a sort of leewan, while the oth sat bobbing his head over his pipe. But both started up as Al phion entered, and ked as energetic and wakeful as two w "Suppose I leave t lantern here," said the Greek, imitating Gai voice as nearly as pos sible, and hiding the ,mperfection that might exist in a grunting, lty whisper. He knew not whether the lanteti belonged to the prison! or not, but he was oni e safe side. " As you please, jel "of the age," returned one of the Albanians, owing low. So the youth sett lantern down; but as lie was about to turn Way, the last speaker interrupted him: "Does the dog die .morrow ?" "Yes. But you ; carry him his break fast." "We will obey." In a few minutes M the youthful Greek was in the street. H felt assured now, and with a bolder step, he tened on. There was no moon, but the stars' ere all out, and Alphion knew his way. Lulee lay upon her uch, and near her sat two female blacks. 0 of them was sleeping while the other kept ch. The maiden seem ed to be sleeping, thokh ever and anon her eyes would open, and e iucoherent senltences f1d1 from her lips. Th she lay when the door of the apartment oper, ,~and a man entered. " Who is it ?" aske ulce, in a quick 1vhis per. " It is our master- ' "Slave.,," spoke the truder, turning his face from the light., and let ,g the heavy tassels of his cap dangle Over hi' row and eyes, "leave me with my betrothed r a while. Go to your own apartments and si. p, and when I am tired of watching I will sent or thee." This was spoken in ow, hoarse whisper, as though the speaker w afraid of disturbing the seeming sleeper.. e .slaves seemed glad to obey the order, for ey quickly arose, and with low bows, they i e their way from the room. When their f teps had died away in the distance, the .yo turned towards the couch. "Luleu!" he prono d, in a low, sweet tone. The maiden started t3 tlta wild miovement. "Who spoke ?" she' d; gazing into the man's face.., - ..-.: .. " hVL t no o , ve one. -TIs thine own Alplhion. But say-is thy mind strong The maiden moved quickl v-forward and threw her arms about her lover's neck. " Yes, yes, Alphion-and it has not been oth erwise. It was but a deception of mine to stay the ireadil sate which seemed to near. Bu. how is this? -arely, this is Gaib's garb." ie.-; and Gaib now lies bound in the very' Ilungent w riiie I was thrown. Ile came to learn who anid what I was, seeing that. he could pain uuthir Fon you. But wait not now ; we a.ni talk of this li.reafter. hasten now and prepare thyself, fbr the way is open before us. Belore I cameii up I saw that one of t:me gates ta open. amnil the coast clear. U, hasten, Ju ie, nd1 look bollyll lorward, for liberty and home are before us !" Lulee needed no second bidding. She threw on .uchl a:rtiles of clthing as were at hand, ndl then turned to h&r loveir. Hle led thbe way to the corridor, and from thence out upon the balcony. There ie uwouid the long, silken sch fr'oin his loin,, and quickly kiiotinig the end, ie bade Lulee seize it and hold fast. Then he lifted her~ over the railing, aiid withoumt difll cuitv loweredl her to the earth. Then lie fol lwed by umeans of the grapije vine, which lie had used once before, amid when lie reached ihe nmaiden's side he caught her hand and led her o.ietly away through the garden. Thie gate was found andl readily opened, anid in a few nioments mlore they were in the street. Once they were stopped by a janizary, who seemed to have just awakened hfroim a sound sleep, but he detained them not, fo: lie quickly eogized the son of the pasha. Alphion touk hway towards the southern portionm of the city, and with rapid steps they kept on until they had reached the foot of the hill upon which the town stands, aiid shortly afterwards the youth stopped before a small wooden house and knocked loudly, at the same time giving a whistle peculiar to the Greek boatmeni. In a few moments the door was opened, and a man, habited in the garb of a Greek sailor, made his appearance with a small lantern in his handl. "Otho," spoke the applicanit, "I am here with my holy prize. 0, if you love me, let us be of' at once?" "lia! Alphion? By heavens, 'tis!I But come in. My crew are all on hand.--And is this our gentle Lulee ?" the sailor continued, as he en tered the house. "0, 'tis. You know -me, Lulee 'I" " Yes, good Otho." But enough of this. Time stout sailor wiped a tear from his eye as he felt the gentle pres sure of Lulee's warum lips upon his rough cheek, ani then lie turned and left thme apartment. Ere long lie returned, followed by ti ree others of like profession, aiid Lulee quickly comprehended that the noble, generous Oth" had volunmte -ed ~imself, his crew, and his vessel, in the wor - of assisting Alphion to find anid to rescue her. The party soon set out with Othio now for their guide, and at the distance of half a mile they came to a small cove wherein lay a boat. They entered, and were soon skipping over the wind rlied waters of the gulf. The vessel was reached, and just as the moon aro'se, which told that 'twis the hour of midnight, the sails were spread, and uinder a'fair breeze the little polacca itarted off'. Long before daylight the swiftly flying craft hind reached the sea of Marmora, and by the morning of the day after she enter ed the Mediterranean. * * At the door of a small cot which stood close by the beach of .Dyro, where the mountains of Maa sweep almost down to the water's edge, and where lived those hardy Greeks who had never bowed to the proud Turk, sat an old man who held in one hand a crutch. His head was silveredover with the frosts of many years, aiid his once noble face was deeply furrowed both by time and care. liesat there watching the moveents of a polacca which had anchor ed in the little bay. A boat wa's coining oft, and lhe could see that 'twas full of his own countrymen. Soonm it tmnched the beachi, and a light form spirmg out upon the :sandm. It was a female form---and with a wildly heiatinir heart the old man started up.. On came the fairy-like formi, bounding like a roe, and in a few momenta sam sh alnne he anhia abount th, old man's neck, and as a flood of warm tears gushed forth she murmured the name of "Father." " Lulee ! Lulec ! My own loved, lost Lulee !" gasped the transported parent, as he strained his child to his bosom. Ay-it was Lulee ; and ere long Alphion also came for the old man's blessing. And then Otho and his noble followers came to share the loy. One bright Sabbath morning a happy party were assembled in the little chapel of Dyro. That same white-haired old man was there, and so were Alphion and Lulee-and there the old vow was repeated by the two youthful lovers, and under its virtue the priest made them one for life. Luleo never heard from her Turkish master again, and the memory of her servitude in Is mid was but as the passing of a summer's cloud. It gave her no pangs of grief nor did it ever cause her to shuddt r, for now her happiness was the more apparent, and the breath of her native shores arnid mountains was made doubly sweet by the contrast. She kept the little dag ger, for it was to that she had once given ber all of honor in charge; while her husband kept the gaudy trappings of Gaib as a memento Df that unfortunate wife-hunter, whom he had left locked up in a dark dungeon, and who had since, by the death of his father and sublime appointment, become a pasha, but without a wife. YOUNG AGAIN. An old man sits in a high-backed chair Before an open door, While the sun of a summer afternoon Falls hot across the floor, And the drowsy click of an ancient olock Has notched the hour of four. A breeze blows in and a breeze blows out From the scented summer air, And it flutters now on his wrinkled brow, And now it lifts his hair, And the leaded lid of his eye droops down, And lie sleeps in his high-backed chair. The old man sleeps, and the old man dreams, His head drops on his breast, His hands relax their feeble hold, And fall to his lap in rest, Th.- old man sleeps, and in sleep he dreams, And in dreams again is blest. The years unroll their fearful scroll; He is a child again, A mother's tones are in his car, And drift across his brain; Ile chases gaudy butterflies Far down the rolling plain. ..HIa.plucks tha.wildrose.ir"the .voods,.. . And . athers eglantine, And holds the golden butter cups Beneath his sister's chi"; And auels in the meadow brook With a bent and naked pin. He loiters down the grassy lane, And by the brurming pol, And a si:h escale his parte. lips, As he hears the lil f.:- school i And b- wi"..e. it were not nine o'clock. And the :.lorniins neever ie re full. A mntler's band is pressed en his head, 11er kiss is oni his brow A snuner brecc blows at the door, With the toss of a leafy bough, and the boy is a white haired mun again, And his eyes are tear-filled now. CHE SUNBEAM, THE DEW-DROP AND THE ROSE. ii Tils iPiasiAN. A la~w-rrnm- hung trembhling lhke a tiid' lng upon the soft velvet leaf~ ot a Rlose. It pakldad idashred, eaich timue he brreez'e woued he rose-bud, with myvirada of brilliamt hueis, ill it seemed as it'a rainbow had beena imiprison d within its ervstal bosomi, and was struggling o0 escape. Novw the Rose beheld it~s beauty, anid hrought shre had inever before seen so lo'vely a reatre; so she spoke to it gently, in a voice hat seemed like the essence of a sunmmer wmnd. "Beautiful lDew-drop !" said the Rose, "I love rou. Y~ou are ike the stars that I see looking lown from heaven on mre when the wind wakeus no at night ; but I love you more than 1 do hem, for 1jon are near me, and they are far uway. Come, dwell with ime for ever, sweet gem >f the morning, and to thee will I unlock all the ragrance of nmy bosom." - Tfhe Rose, as sire spoke, unfolded her delicate caves, until thin Dew-drop beheld the crimson lepths of her heart, glowing with love and pas Just then a sly Sunbeam peeped out from be iind air embroidered cloud, and saw the Dew lrop, which was quivering with emotion at thre leclaration of the Rose. " Heed not that foolish flower, sweet Dew lrop !" cried the Sunbeam; ".she woul never ove you as I can. Be mine, and I will bear hee up amongst the highest stars of heaven, nd when I look at thee thou shalt outshine thoem The Dew-drop was bewildered, arid knew not schat to say. it would gladlly have reigned in he golden 'heavens arid been the queen of the stars, but it feared the fierce ardour of the Sun ieam ; arid then the Rose kept whispering such sweet thines to it with its mossy lips, that it sould not lIelp) loving its. gentle voice. So it bought a little, arid then replied to the Sunbeam '0 golden Sunbeam I who gazest at me with thine eyes of' splendor; thou art far too great for rne to love thee. What. would I, a poor tnmid Dew-drop, do wedded to such mangmiicenrce as :hine? At thy firrst ermbriace, 1 should melt a~way, and vanish like tire morning mist upon :he hills. But the sweet Rose I love dearly. Eler kis.es are laden with perfume, and from her b~osom steals forth all the fragrance of love. 0 od nd dbeautiful flower l ini thy rosy chalice I will dwell for over and he happy !" So saying, the Dew-drop slid gently down into Le glowing bosom of the Rose, and nestled among her velvet leaves. Sensible Dew-drop!I well didst thou know that it is not the love that dazzles most which brings :he greatest peace. The love of the Sunbeam would have been fatal to thee, while that of the Rose gave thee happiness and contentment. Love, like the skylark, though sometimes soar inrg to heaven, still builds its nest upon the earth I Tu CANE CaRP IN LouzsrAaN.-.An exten nive planter, who has recently exanined a lrarge iumber of phmaiatins in the parish of' St. ~Iaisy's, Louisiana, asoire4 the New Orlcans~ her, tnt the prro.-peet of thre mn xt sugar crop in nagnificent. Never, :at thi. peiod of' tire year, .1e3say~s, a, tihe apie.srmu.ee o the --u beenu finer-, or tre shoots larger or more succulent. hrhughout the wholo growving region of Louis TOE COACHMAN WilO MARRIED iISEPLOY ER'S DAUGHTER. The New York Times-of tnrday has the following in relation to the laU secret marriage between the daughter of Mr. Boker, a wealth] merchant of that city, and his coachman: Young Dean, the lucky coachman, has finall agreed to give up his wife for a time and accep1 the pecuniary offers of her friends. Yesterda his counsel received a letter from Mr. Boker'i lawyer, proposing that Dean should go into bu I siness in one of the Western cities-capital be ing provided by Mr. Boker-and that he shouk consent to be separated from his wife for the period of six months, correspondence betweet them being allowed during that time. Dean i willing to accept the proposition, and thus the subject is disposed of, for the present at least. The Rev. Mr. Hatfield, who performed the marriage ceremony, describes Mr. Dean as o prepossessing appearance, gentlemanly address and with nothing about him to show that h< was of Irish o:-igin, but the slighest possibl brogue. Mr. Dean called at his house on Tues day, the 24th of last February, and enquired i Mr. Hatfield would, on the following Saturday tie the marriage knot for him. Mr. H. assent ed. On Saturday, Mr. Deaf; presented himsel and said his intended bride, who was engaged a: servant in a gentleman's family close by, bas been unable to perfect her arrangements, and il was necessary to postpone the marriage unti the ensuing Tuesday. To this Mr. H. agreed appointing the time of day for the bridal part3 to call. Tuesday came, and the minister heke himself in readiness to perform the ceremony but he waited, and they did not appear. To wards evening, however, Dean's friend came t< the house and told the servant, that owing t< the storm of the preceeding day, the young la dy had been unable to finish up her househok duties, and as she wanted to remain in hei place some time longer, she did not wish hei marriage known, but that they would cout the next day. Wednesday morning came-the couple also and their two witnesses with them. Miss Bo. ker was dressed as became her assumed station not in silk and hoops, nor sparkling with dia ivonds. Mr. Dean was neatly attired, and ac ted like a well bred gentlemen. As the day was muddy, and Mr. A.'s parlors had but late ly been furnished with a new carpet, it was deemed prudent that the ceremony should be performed in the basement, which was a cozy enough place, and there the marriage tool place. At its conclusion, Dean took from his purse a roll of bills, from which detaching a V, he deli cately passed it over, politely inquiring if that would satisfy the clergyman. Mr. H. bowed an affirmative, and the happy party left, Mr. H, remarking to his wife that the lady had evident ly the best of that bargain. He thought .nc more of the matter till his attention was called to it on Tuesday last, from the statement in the papers, when he found that instead, as he had supposed, of making a poor servant girl happy, had probably made a wealthy.familymiserable. THE SOLE3IN FEAST OF LENT. The term " Lent" is derived from the Saxon word signifying Spring, filst, or the time of h miliation observed by Christians before the Fes tival of Easter. The Post corresponds with the preparation of the Jews for the yearly expira tior, and is, like other observances, of Jewish origin. Their humiliation was forty days be fore the expiatory sacrifice, aid that of the Church being forty days before the expiatory sacrifice of the Son of God upon the cross for the ,ins of the world. It will be found by con sulting Eusebi, i, that it was customary for the Christians from the earliest ages to set a -:rt ia portion of time for humiliation, prayer, f-ting aid other devout exercises. The number forty has been rendered in va rious ways quite significant, and was appropri ated to those special seasons of repentance. For forty days the deluge covered the earth-forty year~s the Israelites wanderecd ini the desert, un til the whole generation except one was cut oil -Moses fasted forty days on thme mount-Eijah orty days in the wilderness-the Ninevites were allowed forty days for repentance, and our tle.ed Lord fat-ted forty days in the wilder-ness at the couuniencement of the nministry on earth. lienee it is that this practice has been followed for amore than eighteeni hundred years. The early Christians observed the season with great strictness. N,> marriages were celebrated-no festivals were held, except on Saturday and Sunday-and except on these two days the Eu charist was not consecrated during Lent. Otber fasts ended at three o'clock in the afteriioon, but this was kept up until evening. The propriety and duty of observing this season we leave to those whose proper oflce is to enforce thenm from the sacred desk. The observance of this season in another view is highly beneflial. During the holidays, the rjoiciigs have been connected with the choicest vians, and consequently as Spring approaches, the system is more predisposed than at other times to disease, and uniles-s these humors be eradicated in time, will proiuce much sickness. By a proper abstinence, then, the body resumes its natural tone, and good health continues. Fasting, then, is good; indeed, much better than physir. INFi.LE~ct: OF A Holy L:FE.-There is an energy of' moral suasion in a good man's life, passing the highest effort of the orator's genius. The seen but silent beauty of holiness speaks more eloquently of God and duty than the tongues of men and of angels. Let parents remember this. The best inheritance a parent can bequeath to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of hallowed renmemberances and associations. 'fhe beauty of holiness beaming through the life of relative or friend, is more effectual to strengthen such as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are bowed down. thman precept, command, entreaty, or warning. Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the greater part of it mor-.d power, not to the precepts or parables of Christ, but to his own character. The beauty of that holiness which is enshrined in the four brief biographics of the Man of Nazareth, has done more, and will do more, to regenerate the world and bring in everlasting righteousness than all other agencies put together. It has done more to spread his religon in the world than all that has ever been preached or written on the evidences of Christianity.-Chsaners. IxT&axAvrosaJt "Doo Fioarr."-It is said that at a great dog light at Bronte, Canada, on Thursday, the 5th inst., the match was for $5,000 a side, and 'the result was the death of the Buffalo dog, which expired after a severe combat of two hours and fifteen miinutes, the Montreal dog, although victor, barely escaped alive. Parties of the " fancy" were there from all parts of the United States and Canada. The Buff'alo Republic says there was a loss in bets of about S-10,000 t.o lhe A mericani party. A fter the death of " Tiuker."' he~ was desp-msited in a handsome b~lak wv' *m e -la and ' 'maht to B3utalo foi burialn. it is said that mnany of the Buffalo getry were so affected at thn den'th of thieir ihvrite,' tt th~ev actually shed [ear-s oner thi dm .idbr of'Inar* "GOOD AND BETTER." A father sat by the chimney post On a winter's day, enjoying a roat; - By his side a'maiden young and fair, A girl with a wealth of golden hair; - And she teased the father; stern and cold, t With a question of duty, trite and old: " Say, father, what shall a maiden'do When a man of merit comes to wool And, father, what of this pain in my breast' Married or single-which is the best 1" .'hen the sire of the maiden young and fair, The girl of the wealth of golden hair lHe answers as ever do father, cold, To the question of duty, trite and old; " She who weddeth keeps God's-letter; f- She who weds not, doeth better." Then meekly answered the maiden fair, The girl with the wealth of golden hair;" "I will keep the sense of the Holy Letter, f Content to do WELL without doing samaN." DR. FANEINI'S ONLY So,' f While the name of Dr. Franklin has been.so prominently before the public of late, in oon. I nection with the celebration at Boston, -it may t not be uninteresting to give some account of 1 his only son, William, about whom we-think lit , tle is known by the community at large. Un-.: r. like his father, whose chief claim to veneratione I is for the invaluable services he repdered his. country in her greatest need, the. son was, from first to last, a devoted loyalist. Before the Revo- -- lutionary war he held several civil andimilitary offices of importance. At the commencement - of the war he held the office of Governor of New 1 Jersey, which appointment he received in 1706. When the difficulties between the mother coun try and. the colonists were coming to a crisis, he threw his whole influence favor in of loyalty, and endeavored to prevent the'Lengislative Assembly from sanctioning the proceedings of the General Congress at Philadelphia.- These efforts, how- " ever, did little to stay the tide of popular senti ment in favor of resistence to tyranny, and soon involved him in difficulty. He was deposed by the Whigs to give place to William Livingston, '' and sent a prisoner to Connecticut, where he remained for two years in East Windsor, in the house of Capt. Ebenezer Grant, near where the Theological Semit.ary now stands. In 1778 he was exchanged, and soon after went to England. - There he spent the remainder of his-life, receiv ing a pension from the British Government for the losses he had sustained by his fidelity. He - died in 1818, at the age of eighty-two. As might be expected, his opposition to the' cause of liberty, so dear to the heart of his fath er, produced an estrangement between 'them.? For years they had no intercourse. When, in 1784, the son wrote to his ifather; in his reply Dr. Franklin says, "Nothing has ever hurt me so much, and af me with-sach- keen send tions, as.to find myself desertediua o n un "taling up'arui against Mme in a-eass wherein my good fame, fortune, and life were all nt'atake." In his will also, he alludeslo the part his .on had acted. After making-him some 'equests, he adds: "The part he acted against meic in the late war, which is of.public notoriety, wi!l account for my leaving him - no nore of an est:ate which hg endeavored to deprive me of." The patriotism of the father stands forth all the brighter when contrasted with the desertion of the son.-Newburyport Herald. A STUBBORN STRIPLING. " Once upon a time" a big, strapping, awk ward youth, fresh from Vcrnont, entered the Dummer Ac.ulemy at Byfield, Massac'Lusetti, for a little share of erudition, which is doled out at this Temple of Alinerva at economical prices. At that time-.we know not how it is at pre scnt-the boys and girls were kept in one apart meant, only the middle aisle separating aem. One day, this Vermont stripling, who had just been helping one of the girls through b ard sum-he wvas cute on cypheriing-thought it not imore than lair that he shoul take toll for his valuable services; accordingly he threw his stalwart arm around the rosy damsel and gave ier a sly but rousing smack which startled the whole assembly. " Jedediah Tower, come up aiere !" roared out the preceptor. The delinquent appeared, his face glowing wi~h blushes like a red-hot warning pan, and looking at'silly as a ninny. " Hold out your hand, air !" said the pedagogue. "Pfl teach you not to act thus in this institution." The huge paw was extended in a horizontal tine towards the instructor, who surveyed its broad surface with a mathematical eye, calcula ting how many strokes of his small ferul it would take to cover the large number of square - inches which it contained. "Sedediahi," at length he said, " this is the first time that you have been called up for any delinquency ; now, sir, if you will say that you are sorry for what you have done, I will letyoua oil' this time without punishment." "Sorry," exclaimed the youngster, striking an attitude of pride and indignation; "sorry I N-, sir ! I am not. AndlIwill do jest so again ~ ef I hey a chance. So, put on, old feller, jest as hard as you like. By the jumpin' Je hoeni phat ! P'd stand here and let you lick me till kingdom kum, afore I'd be sorry at that-by thunder, I would!l"-Boston Post. ANECDOTE OF A GEORGIA JUDGE.-In I85-, there was tried in the -- Circuit of Georgia, a case of involuntary manslaughter, in the ex pressive language of a witness, the, accused,, while drunk, pulled out his knife, and "soh ing it about," struck the deceased in .th'e abdo men. The attending physician being called to the stand to make tihe usual proof of the nature and extent of the wound, testified, "that the knife entered the lower portion of the abdomen, penetrating the peritoneum, and thence extend ing through the omentum, to the vicinity of the illiac regions." ThE clerk, to whom all of this wias Greek, inquired of the Solicitor-General if he desired that portion of the doctor's testimo ny taken down. The Solicitor anticipating some fun, replied in the affirmative, and re quested the doctor to repeat it slowly,: which he did, in language, if possible, more incomipre sible. Judge A., losing his accustotned suavity of - manner, impatiently exclaimed: "Doctor, stop, for God's sake, stop; if the man was cut in the -,, guts, say so, so the clerk can put~. it down." The doctor has since .studiously avoided the. use of technicalities in the presence of the un - initiated. PRasEnvATIoN OF A CoRPS.--The followin' remarkable statement appears in alate numnber o the Vicksburg (Miss.) S.entinel:..- - " We were present on the 27th instant at the' disinterment of . the reigrains of Mrs. Mary Jane. ' Tompkins, first consort of Honorable P.<iJ ' . -. Tompkins, former member of Congress of this.> ' district, and a sister of Ex-Governor Helm, of. * Kentucky. She had *been interred seventeen years on the 4th inotant, enclosed in .a sine . coffin, filled with alcohol,.which was ze-enclosed in a wooden coffin, and all carefully packed. in charcoal. The wooden coffin and the t~of te - zine one wre somwhiat decayed,:but shs~gri* . .. . ial. i u.a perfet state; of-,.-'er-ia