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IjMMUain *. i??| , ? ?-? _": lewis M. GRIST, Proprietor. | %n lAtjnfat Jamil} Ittfosfaptr: got % ijSroniofifm of % |o!iiical, Social, ^griraliural a?i> ADVANCE. VOL.17. YOBKYILLE, S. C., TH^SDAY, JULY 13, 187l.*l|^pB|STO. 38f Ij^n original fro Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. Broken Cisterns. ? BY MARY F. WATEBBURY. CHAPTER I. "The poor child is so nervous!" sighed Mrs. Weston, as she hastily dusted the flour from her hands and apron, and went up-stairs in answer to her daughter's message. "What is it, Helen ?" 9heasked, sympathetically, noting the flushed cheeks, tearful eyes, and yards of Swiss muslin strewed about the room. "I've spoiled my dress. It's just ruined," and sitting down in the midst of the ruins, Helen mourped as one might, qver the loss of o Av?tnna Wc? o1oKrir?to hrniftw?rplins of HU 4\SA liUlig* UVl viMUViMw ...... ?BBlost evening's festivities?were hanging about SB her shoulders like flags at half mast; her ^ fadtyi, hoopless wramer clung to a figure BB~whose?ji*Q o^ler full.sail, suggested the invin^^ Armada; and her ^ querulous voice would not have known itself, could it have recalled the melting sweetnes of ^ tone with which it addressed Frederic Lee & a. But this was "only mother," go Helen 58 proceeded, fretfully? J "I do wish father wasu't so poor! I wouldn't JM have so much trouble if I could take my dress38 es to New York to have them made, as Lizzie .- Lee does. It's of no use, mother, trying to J fix it. The waist is spoiled." Couldn't you take some from the skirt ?' H Mrs. Weston asked, patiently turning and H arranging'the breadths. B "No; the skirt is skimped now. I shall look B as if I'd been drawn through a key-hole. The B amount of it is, I've got to have more muslin." "But if you had it, my dear, you could not Bfiniah the dress for this evening. It would have taken us all day to do it, even if there ^B had been no delay." "But I must. Oh ! dear, I don't see why I IB always have so much trouble. The other girls B don't. What is the use? mother, of sitting B there and looking first at the old dress and 9 then at me ? I wish you'd tell me what to do, or help me!" "I don't know what to do, my child. I II ought not even to stay here. It is time my ! I bread was in the oven now. I'll send Mary "You might as well send Laurie in, she's so f stupid; and I can't talk to her with my fingers when I am sewing."" "You ought not to speak in that way of your cousin's misfortune. But I know, dear, you are nervous," and the mother bent over and kissed the tumbled brown braids. "Cheer up, and I'll persuade father to drive to the city, and get you some more muslin and the blue sash you wanted. You must fix. yourself, and go into the school-room, audi Mary will run up the skirt." "O, mother that's splendid 1" said Helen springing up, all animation. "I was so afraid 1 d'Tisve to give up Lizzie'spafr^y^&rf on'1 3m?" 1 count of (hat dress. be ready in ten minutes, tell father." In a vefy abort time the wrapper was exchanged for a neat dress, face and braids were smoothed, and Helen presented herself at the school-room door. "Just keep order, and hear the little ones read," was her father's direction ; and with a little assumption ofdignity she took a seat on the platform. "Father looks pale," she thought, but her inward satisfaction was only distured for a moment, when she began to plan for the evening. The school-room was not a favorable place for castle-building, but j this was an occupation in which Helen had ; become proficient The hum of study, the ! occasional giggles and "please, may I speak," ' did not prevent the rearing of a most gorgeous J castle in which she was the object of unlimi- j ted admiration and envy; but it must be con- j fcssed that the little ones made little advance j ' ' ? - j A up the hill of science, and that an seemea to ; forget that "order is Heaven's first law." This, however, was of little consequence. The father could work a little harder on his return, and make up all deficiences. Meanwhile, the mother turned the loaves in the oven, made cake and pie, and prepared dinner, and Mary sat in Helen's room patiently sewing the long breadths of muslin. "Isn't this blue lovely ?" said Helen, running into the room, displaying her father's purchases. Mary looked up and nodded pleasantly, not that she understood Helen's words, but because she was pleased to see her happy. Helen plunged, at once into sewing, pausing only to give a few rapid directions, on her fingers, to Mary, who always smiled a pleasant assent and sewed unremittingly. Both girls remained away from the dinner-table? eating a hasty lunch brought them by Mrs. Weston. When the dishes were washed, the mother came on as a reserved force, and Helen, "completely used-up," as she expressed it, when to bed to get rested for the evening. At half-past seven the idol received its meat' offerings and drink-offerings of broiled steak and strong coffee; then began the robing proMow lonod the eoraet and hraided the ^uu unpaged the white> transparent folds of muslin, and as a crowning sacrifice, plucked her last tube-rose to pit in the idol's hair. A very lovely idol it was! It was not strange that Frederic Lee & Co. waved before it the censer of admiratioi, nor that Mr. and Mrs. Weston and poor, jpjte Mary Lake, almost bowed down and worshipped. / Helen kissed them all good-bye, and with an implse of gratitude and pleasurable excitement, exclaimed, "Oh! how good you all are," the> Frederic Lee helped her into the-carriaf and drove rapidly down the moonlighted illage street, thinking what a lovely, affectioite little body was this Helen Weston, an wondering if she would be as loving and gneful to him, should he make her Helen L?. These sentimental thoughts he kept to hhself, and chatted only on surface topics, tf? moon-light, the last hop, the prospective eitertainment, and the latest novel. "I will n)t surrender just yet," he thought; but, vhen divested of wrappings, Helen met him at the door of the dressing-room, with her brown eyes shining, and cheeks flushed to a delicate pink, he felt that his only safety lay in shutting his eyes. Helen's admirers were legion.. There were ^ those who admired her beauty and grace; ' others, her ready wit and vivacity; and others, her gentleness of mauner and the sweet nlod ulations of her voice. Helen knew this, and the consciousness was delightful and intoxica! ting. It gave her strength to out-dance, out; laugh, and out-talk all of her young lady j friends; yet it was all done with such iniraitaj ble grace, that, although ladies tossed their heads, gentlemen gazed admiringly to the last. "Well, my queen, if society does not spoil you before you are dethroned, I shall be very glad," was Frederic's first remark on their re-1 turn home. "If I am a queen, why should I ever be de-' ! throned ?" asked Helen gayly. ! "Oh! that is in the natural course of things, j But do not look so serious. You may still j I reign in a smaller kingdom." I "Yes, hut home is such an exceedingly lim-1 5 1 J ">>nnn ia rinlv t.hp I ilea mon&rcny, uuu wc ijuow? ? ??j ? i king's wife." Helen gave a little sigh, which sounded as | if she were really taking a careful view of the case, and found it unpromising. ' "Only the king's wife!" repeated Ftedaric ? "as if that were not distinction enough." . "Not for me," said Helen; "I must rule ih my own right." ' ' '' 1 ^ "Spirited!" was her companion's mental comment, but thereafter his conversation was in the currency of small talk, and Helen fancied that his "good bye" was a trifle less ira- j pressivethan usual. The house looked dark and gloomy on entering, and there was Nno one to whom she could tell her triumphs, for only Mary was sitting up, and Helen was too tired to underj take a lengthened description of the evening in the deaf and dumb manual. Her feelings fell at once to the lowest point indicated by the'mental thermometer. She was so unrea sonable as to wonder why her mother couan t have kept awake, and why she must have a mute for a cousin. It was very annoying, and the worst of it was, this was the only large party she could attend for a long time, for all her friends were going back to the city for the winter, Frederic and Lizzie Lee included. But Helen was tired and sleepy and soon forgot her severe trials in sound slumber. She did not come back to them until nine o'clock the next morning, when she was wakened by Mary, who had brought her some toast and coffee. "I am almost dead with a headache," the Invalid would have said to her mother, but it seemed an absurd thing to say with her fingers, therefore she only held her head with both hands, and looked woe-begone. Mary's face expressed the required sympathy, the toast and coffee were good, and after their consumption, Helen settled back on her pillows ready to have her forehead bathed, and her head-ache charmed away by her cousin's soft, cool hands. "Mary is a good soul after all," thought Helen remorsefully, "and father and mother would do anything for me. I do wish I wa3fl like Mary?contented with staying at hornet and working." v jp The forenoon wore away with dozing, cas J tie-building, and making good resolves?they' latter to be broken before night. Alas! fori "Howls yotar head, dear ?" Mrs. camo in hurriedly, with heated face, redX hands and huge work-apron. "Had I not ^ better excuse ,yuiT7 Mh Lee &na~ira sister have called to take you out riding." "Mercy! why, mother you didn't go to the door looking so!" exclaimed Helen, in con- j sternation. "Yes," answered her mother with dignified decision. "You, of all othere, should not re- . fer to my dress j but you are nervous and sick," she added, gently. J . "I am not nervous, mother, but I don't see j why cousin Mary can't go to the door. She ! can take a card if she can't hear. She might, | at least, give people a seat in the parlor." "You know, dear,*it is embarrassing for her; then, she is lying down. She was up very late last night". But about the ride. Shall you go ?" "Of course, if I can dress. There'll be few enough for me after the Lees go away." It was a wonderful cure for headache?that ride. Even its anticipation banished pain, and put Helen in good humor with herself and the world general. "You are looking as fresh as the morn, darling," hummed Frederic when Helen went into the parlor. "Not a bit tired, are you ?" said Lizze. "I am rested now. Isn't this a lovely day ?" and Helen rattled on as though headache were unknown. "We thought your cousin might enjoy a ride," said Lizzie, when Helen arose to get her hat and shawl. "We are in a barouche. There is plenty of room." Lizzie observed the constrained tone of the affirmative reply, and glanced understanding ly at her brother, but he was oblivious 01 everything but the fresh, young face?which had just disappeared. "But my dear, why should it disturb you ? Mary is no restraint upon conversation, poor ohild 1" said Mrs. Weston, in answer to her daughter's fretful mention of Mary's invitation. "It isn't that, of course, but she is so shabby. I know she can't help it, but that doesn't i make her any jaflie_nreseniftbl^2> ~ ] "Jler gray suit looks well?quiet and ladylike. Not stylish, perhaps, but poor Mary ; hasn't your style any way." Much mollified, and, laying the flattering ' unction to her soul that she was stylish, Helen i arrayed herself in her best dress?a French j bluesilk?and her mother's white crape shawl. Mary, quietly delighted with so unexpected a pleasure, donned her suit of steel-grey and fastened her collar with a bit of ribbon that * "matched her eyes 'of Heaven's own blue,' " as Frederic assured her through Hel| en's interpretation. Mary understood that he i was pleased with her. She liked to be pleasI ing in others' sight. It brought a faint flush j to her pale cheeks and a brighter light to her eyes. 'This was Helen's life. How different j from hers, shut in eternal silence!' But she ! did not think that if her ears were closed to I earth's harmonies, they were also closed to its discords, and he who has ears to hear knows I only too well how far the latter outnumber I tho former. In some respects the ride was unsatisfactory to Helen, as she was obliged to act as interpreter for Frederic and Lizzie, who were intent upon Mary's enjoyment; but when both brother and sister united in an urgent invita| tion for her to spend the holidays with them 1 in New York, she forgot her disappointment "Now I shall have something to look forward to," she remarked that evening at the ???? ! close of a long discussion with her mother as to ways and means. ; 1 "I"hope you will enjoy it, dear," answered . 1 j her mother hesitatingly, "but I wish you could j1 j feel happy in anticipation of a quiet winter at < j home." i \ "But I can't mother. It is too dull. It's , f different for the rest of you. You and father t i are old, and Mary can't hear nor Speak, and ! < ! Johnny and Laurie are children. You don't s need excitement as I do." t | "No," Mrs. Weston said wearily," all I j 1 want is rest, and that is what your father ; needs. He is almost worn out with his teach- e ing and taking care of the garden." j 1 ; The daughter's heart was touched. She s ?*?.?!? * J mAfkn^'o nonlr lm- i lon?w uer anus aiuuuu uu uivm^ .o mw? *? - , pulsively. "I know it mother, and I am go- j i ing to help you both when I come home. I j \ will teach half a day for father, and work !-1 half a day for you." "Dear^^flfectionat^ child!" s&id Mrs. West- j 1 on,.after.fielen had gone to her room. "I: t want her to enjoyiife while-she can." I To gain hej * husband's consent to the visit j was a difficult mhttSf. 7~ - | g "I want her to enjoy life, too, but she ought a to enjoy it in a rational way," said Mr. Weston, decidedly; thinking, meanwhile, of his a bad debts and empty pocket-book. a "If it is the money," pleaded the mother, i tl "I've been thinking that I can plan the chil- c dren's clothes so as not to buy any, and Mary ii and I go out so little we shall need nothing a new. Then there is the money Isaved for a new set of stone-china. That is all mine, you a know, because I saved it in a girl's wages. I ii can make the old set do with a few new pieces." ? e: "Well, if yon can manage.it," Mr. Weston p said, with a suppressed sigh. "You see, the worst of it is, this is only one expense. The E end is not yet." * p However,* the matter was settled beyond a h peradventure, excepting Providence inter- si fered, and Helen was gay with her brilliant h anticipations?so excited that any routine of h labor was out of the question. But the pa- ? tient mother bent her back to the household G burden ; Mary hemmed and stitched and ci tucked ; Miss Quipp, the dress-maker, spent three or four days in cutting and fitting, and w the father drove to the city on numberless er- g rands, all looking forward to the Christmas visit. The school was somewhat neglected, ir to be sure, and the boarders began to com- si plain because of the frequency of hash, and h; infrequency of pies and cakes, and Mr. West- d on, and even the devoted mother, grew very ! d weary of the hurry and exoiteraent, and Mary ! fr got paler and thinner. Helen, if she observ- j tj ed all this, did not allow it to modify her I tl plans. "She still had an anxiety, however, and as that was as to how she was to obtain any pocket-money. m "What shall I do?" she asked her motbir.i di "I don't know, mv child," Wfl" the ** ing reply. We cannot spare any more, possi-J^ hlj:?Thnroopntiflekn went1 to bed, and cried | herself to sleep,, and her mother kept the trou-fin ^4^?t?hwWaad ,-Jay.a^ake^ lhiqking .of^i all possible and nnpossible ways to get- ' Dr thirty dollars llchai? pin-money, j hi ? It'was not until four o'clock that she deci-1 hi led upon any plan ; then she fell into a trou-: rs bled sleep, and awoke unrefreshed at an early ; p] bour. As soon as breakfast was over she started for the city. It was not an unusual <J< proceeding for her mother to drive their gen- hi tie old horse, hence Helen was not surprised until when, on her return, she laid thirty dol- L lars in her lap. i w "Where did you get it?" she said delighted-1 ft ly; but Mrs. Weston persisted in silence. Indeed, silence alone kept her from tears, when M Bhe thought of the gold beads that her moth-! j er had worn, and had given her as a keep-sake.! ^ At last, the preparations were complete, the j noofiir nanlrerl Htmlr wrs pone. and Helen, in ; r?? ? o?her pretty travelling costume, had only to say "good bye." Tears were in her eyes, and Mrs. ^ Weston and Mary were crying. "Good bye, dear old father," Helen said ?, throwing her arms about his neck ; "I am go- w ing to be real good and help you when I get home." 101 Then the mother held her darling in a close ; ? embrace, Mary kissed her, and she was gone. ! ^ If CHAPTER II. j Q On the principle of wasting no time, Helen ^ practiced her art of pleasing upon the too susceptible heart of Ned Grover, and before the distance to New York was measured, the half-, grown lad, the "big boy" of the school, was ; ^ deeply in love with "pretty Miss Helen," as j she was admiringly termed by the boarders. I q How he survived the attack, the amount of i. flesh he lost, and how mercilessly he was teas* j ed by his companions, must be left to another j chronicler; our pen will be 'a weary" with j recording the sayings and doings of "pretty | Miss Helen." i This was Helen's first visit to the city. ; 0 There had been numberless shopping excur-! v sions, when she had trundled through the j crowded streets in their Bhabby buggy, and ( n with large desires and small means, worried ; ^ in and out of stores; but now she was to be a ' y\ guestjn a brown stone front, and ride in a ; carriage. The thought almost took away her j _ breath. But one very soon becomes accus- j11 toraed to a new state of things, and Helen ^ managed to conceal her wonder and delight until the first novelty was worn away. ^ Lizzie's welcome was girlishly frank and c demonstrative, Frederick's slightly impres- 8 sive, and Mr. and Mrs. Lee's kind. She c shared Lizzie's room, though the state-cham- i ber would have been more to her taste. I ^ "Let Maggie unpack your trunk," Lizzie i * said, as Helen began unfolding and shaking a out her dresses. "Oh ! no. there are onlv a few things. I t thought I wouldn't need mauy dresses for a 8 fortnight." Helen colored painfully. Her little trunk 1 ' seemed to have undergone some transforma- ' : tion since she surveyed it with so much satis- s | faction, while her mother was carefully ar- j ranging its contents. Wasit the coutrastwith ; J the grandeur and profusion around her? ^ Whatever was the cause, it looked like a \ i nurse-maid's trunk, and the wardrobe like that * of a country minister's wife. Her embarrass- j ment was in no wise lessened by the next offer, j J "Let me help you," and, without waiting | for a reply, Lizzie gathered the dresses in her j 1 j arms and hung them in the wardrobe. "You |8 | will need something more, Helen. You have j not brought a single evening dress; but never a mind, you are so near home that you can j have anything sent that you need." i i "Yes," was the faiut answer ;\Uut Hefetys houghts were, "Oh! dear, what shall f Uo.? Lizzie will be ashamed of me, just as I an ff nother and Mary. But there is the thirty lollars mother gave me, I can get whatljeed vith that" Somewhat comforted she inished unpacking and proceeded to mafcqpd toilette. Her plain blue merino would jnot lo. Lizzie had on a garnet silk. Her flue iilk would match that, and with her besl bread lace collar would be an uneSeepTiJWfc )le toilette! v "How becoming blue is to you!" LW* aid as they were going down to dinner. "II ienwood is here this evening, I fear you will teal his heart away from me." "Perhaps I shall," Helen answered, laighng; "but if blue is the all-prevailing qolor vith your lover, why do you^^ot wearI ifou give the enemy an advantage" Blue with my complexion! Did you ever tear of such duplicity, Fred ? Helen advises oe to wear blue to please Kenwood, and says 'give the enemy an ad vantage.'" ^ { Jrederic walked .leisurely towa^A-^heaibi i ah they eDtered the. rooLraroHu-arn^ nd tpok a critical survey. " "The enemv has the advantage, Li*z(e. I m bound to admit it; but I beg you wf 1 not dd blue to your brownness and make asm all bunder-cloud of yourself. Give me tlje_ triolor?red, white and blue?he added/ offerjg Helen his arm, and glancing at t$e rose nd snpw of her bright, gib wing-fhce. j." . "More patriotic than polite I" she ansVered, tucily, still retaining Lizzie's arm, andlsv^ lg him discomfited. "Not sure of her yet!" thought Fred, and xerted himself still further to please the caricious beauty. Kenwood Thayer caifie in after dinner, [elen was patiently, amusing Mr. Lee by laying with him at a game of chess; She ad no interest in the game, but being impulvely kind hearted, enjoyed entertaining her ost; and being proud of her plump arm and and, she found the chess-board an excellent eld for their display.' Then her proflle was rrecian in outline, and, altogether, she was mscious of making a pretty picture. So Kenwood Thayer thought as he was alking the length of the drawing-room to ain an introduction. "Stop a moment," he said to Lizzie, pausi r* okinin 1'T.ftftV of fViof taKloftit T tg uwiupij, uvrva uv ?uhw aould like to paint it. Your father, with his ale complexion and wkitfe hair, his eye not im, nor his natural strength abated?a splenid specimen of honorable old age; and your iend, the embodiment of the grace and beaur of womanhood?but, pardon me, I forgpt rnt I was not in my studio." A look o&perplexed amusement, as remote i possible from jealousy, was on Lizzie's face. Certainly, you are not the sole admirer of y father, nor my frierid. After ah intro-j action, perhaps yon cMrperspft/fo Wrfd "Do you think I mighty1 he asked J "^at it to the test," Lizzie said ediately after theTormula of introauctlon,| lp jjfcchia^oufliy prop^'^d th^ idea-bengal^ Kenwood Thayer blushed from the tip of, 8 snowy collar to the roots of his auburn lir, and Helen hasten to relieve his embarissraent, by graciously assenting with his roviso, that she should wear a veil. "I am not in favor of handing my youth awn to posterity, to have it commented on aw 'dreadfully I have changed.'" "But you can be beautiful in age," said Mr. ee, looking at the bright, young face, instinct ith happy life. "Mrs. Lee is more beautiil to me now than when we were married." "But every one is not like mother," Lizzie lid. "Her face wrinkles in smiles; though dare sav Helen will be a good-looking old tdy." "Don't speak of it, please," and Helen livered. "To grow old and be shut up at ame seems little short of dying and being uried." "But the picture," said Kenwood Thayer ; may we not have, at least, that to console us hen you have really grown old ?" "Perhaps," Helen replied, carelessly; "but ar conversation borders upon the doleful. (et us finish our game, if you are inclined, [r. Lee." Kenwood and Lizzie joined Mrs. Lee and 'rederic, who were chatting in another part f the room. Frederic said it rested him "to ave a good talk with mother, after flirting ith a pretty girl." "Fred is always talking about 'flirting'" lid Lizzie, ."but the truth is he is always in arnest, and gets disappointed every time." "Even that is better than the frivolity of a irtation," Kenwood said soberly. "Flirting i simply despicable, in man or woman." "Do not be severe, Ken," Frederic protestd, "or we shall think you have been a Vx> im. "Never; this honest little woman is the nly one who has had an opportunity to trifle ,'ith me." He touched the hand lightly diicli Lizzie rested on his shoulder. "I have iot 'carried my heart tn my sleeve Cnr eck at.'" "But can't a fellow?excuse me, a man or poman?be permitted a change of mind ?" . "That is unavoidable often times. If.there 3 a mistake on either side, let it be rectified lefore the law renders it impossible." "What a practical fellow you are Ken fou must not bring your solid coin to ex liange for our paper ourrency.-. We are not upposed to mean everything we' say in so iety." "I am sure, Fred," said Lizzie, "it is a good hing to have the truth spoken once in awhile am glad Kenwood knows how to speak it ,nd is not afraid to do so." "Whew!" Frederic remarked, not at all tc he point, and adjusted himself more comfort kbly to the sofa. Mrs. Lee had been looking on and listenng, her face full of kind interest, but it wat ler way to leave the young people to themelves. Helen had been check-mated, and, leaving dr. Lee to a nap in his chair with -a hand :crehief over his face, she joined the groups "How serious you all look ! Has any orn >een naughty ?" "Yes," Lizzie answered, "Fred has, ami Cenwood has been talking to him." "Then I must take your brother's part, foi ! know just what it is to be naughty and gel i scolding." "But 1 should not find it in my heart t( cold you, Miss Weston, because?because?' "Because you'd think it better to 'kiss anc nake up,'" Lizzie interrupted. But a bettei 10an would be for you to punish us by taking I ' lus to the or 3ra?you and Fred. Helen has | nefer been. It will be a great treat to her." j ' ^Certainly ;x though a punishment to you it j [- will be a pleasure to us." Kenwood bowed j y gallantly but with embarrassment. His self > i ?possession vanished like dew under the bright-: j ; ne& of Helen's eyes. 11 "Us!" Frederic said with an assumed dis- j ;: pte&ure^JgJt the matter was settled, and our i ^eijghted^ro ine went to sleep to dream of j 1 hrtiBts wi^auburn hair and operas. yWhat shall you wear.?" asked Lizzie the ? next morning. .! 1'My blue silk I suppose: I have no other jhclfe." j "j'Yes, that will do nicely with an ^pera 1 i cape. Is yours white ? That would be charms answered hesitati nglyl "but I should like to get one if you would me. Coutd l make it to-day ?" I 4 . f'XpS] Maggie would do all thh stitclypg on ^j^^jirc^nd ^ ^iU wtU, if like/ I T mt have been ashamed?clear and bracing, | The carriage was so easy and elegdht, and the horses arched their necks so proudly, and Broadway was so gay with life, that Helen her wardrobe perplexities, the poverty of home, and her hard-working father and mother, and entered into the spirit of the se?Qe as though "herself the child of fortune. When they went into Frederic's stoic and ( were met by the obsequious clerks, she was in ' "sif^a state of mental exaltation, that she bought whatever she fancied, regardless of her limited purse; a pair of white kids, merino for a cape, with elaborate cord and tassels, a set of "tETSfcciennes lace and other necessary trifles; and (was eagerly examining some white lace which Lizzie declared to be "just the thing" foTKrissler's party, when a good spirit whisperd: "How will you pay for all these thiflgs ?" Helen dropped the lace, the happy" fight fa-ided-out of her eyes, and she satd abrrptty.J# i dcb't think I will take it." The clerk gathered the material in his hand for the fifth or sixth time, and expatiated on the softness of the folds and its becomingness to 'fresh, yet deJicate complexions.' "Your compliment, though true enough, Sx^rFrench is rather pronounced," Frederic sai.f, He was standing near the girls, chating pleasantly and watching Helen's varying expression with much interest. He divined i her difficultv. and helDed her out of it by gal " * - ? lantly saying that he was 'delighted to see onelady who knew when she was through shopping/ 'T^-Helen drew out her porte-monnaie very slowly. 'Why did they all look at her? What if she should not have enough ?" Her , fece flushed when she asked for the bill., fttyone dollars," was the prompt response,; clerk handed her the bill of items. She: at the paper to get time for thought.. didn't aha ; Bttg about? Thoy were speaking in alow [ Thc^i^ldn't be so rude as to talk ' her!^nS5ll the*smiling clerk stood i ' smiling, Lizzie and Frederic stood talking,! and Helen stood gazing at a bit of paper in an ^gony- of embarrassment, for the lack of a r C-Yc^are detaining Helen," said Frederic, -j^tb^ptiug-his sister. "Come, ladies, let me heljfcyou into the carriage before I go to my sanctum," and he drew Helen's arm through his. "But I have not paid my bill," she said, with an attempt at gaiety of manner. "Haven't? Well, never mind. You will be in again. I can trust you while I have yourself for hostage," and he hurried her through the incoming and outgoing crowd of customers, Lizzie following as best she could, remarking, as they feached the carriage, 'how very convenient brothers were." "Do not be sarcastic, sis. Yon don't belong tome now. I've given you away. But*I m/st take care of Miss Helen, until?" ^'Until she pays her bill," Helen said, laughing, with restored equanimity. The first joy being over of her escape from exposure, our penniless heroine became suddenly silent, and knitted her brows and perplexed her brains with thinking how she was to get just one more dollar from the thoroughly drained home-purse, and then how she was ' "- * mi i 1 _ to buy a lace evening dress, rne nae nome was not pleasant. Internal clouds shut out more sun than the densest nimbus in the sky. Even Broadway looked doleful with its jostling, hurrying crowd, each person selfishly eager to attain his own ends. The leafless trees looked cold and stiff, and, in short, the whole world was upside down, and all for lack of S^ollar and an evening dress. Lizzie, unrderetanding from her brother's intimations, the-probable cause of her friend's silence and abstraction, exerted herself to change the current of her thoughts. She dwelt on the de| lights of the opera, on Kenwood Thayer's ad} miration, and Frederic's infatuation, and sucj cetded, at last, in restoring Helen's spirits. busy with anticipation and \ labor, for the cape must be out of the way before dinner, the blue silk must be re-trimmed wilhsome of Mrs. Lee's rich, old lace, and the ! gfeves finished with lace frills, so that Helen ' had little time to be troubled about the state ; of her finances. Then the evening was so de lightful; the drive, the blaze of lights, the ' glow of color and shimmer of silks, the music, | ^ the polite attentions of Frederic Lee and si- j " lently respectful admiration of Kenwood [Thayer. "I was never so happy in my life!" Helen I exclaimed enthusiastically, during the drive >;horae. ^ i I ~-'^*wish I could feel so. I enjoy the opera >1 as well as anything, but the truth is I am , rather tired of it all?the excitement and gai cty, I mean." * | Lizzie's plain, honest face, though very ?|loveable, lacked the animation of Helen's." | The contrast was unpleasant to her lover. An enthusiast in art, almost a worshipper of the r| beautiful, he could not avoid wishing that his j [.frank, sensible Lizzie had, withal, more of j i; Helen's spirituelle beauty, and enthusiasm of { soul. The thought did not occur to him that j the sparkling wine, though never so grateful [ ; to' the taste, could not be substituted for pifre, cold water. * j "How do you like Kenwood ?" Lizzie asked t as the two grew confidential over the bright ; fire in their dressing-room. "I know he likes > you. The dear fellow 1 He has the largest '; heart in the world. All my friends wiH be 1 j his." r i "I don't know whether I like him or not," I Helen answered, slowly brushing her hair. "He is pleasant and wonderfully talented, 1 suppose, but not half as convenient as Fred eric/-' "Convenient!" echoed Lizzie with at amused smile. "That is complimentary. 6c you classify gentleman as convenient and in convenient?" . ; "I don't take the trouble to classify them Some please me and others don't; and, as a general thing, those please me best who arc not wrapped up in any theory or pursuit thai keeps them all to themselves." "But, Helen Kenwood is not self-abfiorbed." "Oh I yes, h< is?in himself and art. Do you think he. evei looks at a beautiful prospect or a pretty fac< without thinking |iow he can use it in a pic tare?" . . ' ; "Well, I am not going to help you analyze his character. Take him as a whole and h< just suits me. I amsurej?ttjguch rather yoi would take a fancy to Fr?;d. I'm?wot jealou; at every trifltf as many are, but it 1 thodjghl any one could get Kenwood's heart awa^ Htvve a feminine duel witli tea and poplins for two," asked Helen thinking the conversation Was becoming toe earnest , . Lizzie laughed good hnmoredly. "No but I never should marry." "Be an old maid! 0, Lizzie, thatis worst thau a duel. I don't think I could survive having people tell me how well I retained my youthful looks, knowing all the time that they were ridiculing, or complimenting me because I was an old maid. No, I never could make up my mind to spinsterhood, with its cat and snuff accompaniment" "What a ridiculous light you put everything in, Helen. I would much prefer remaining single to marrying any one whom I did not love." "Oh! of course; but there are enough to love if one can take time to think about it For ray part, I like one gentleman about as well as another?7)ow, but, by and by, I shall fall regularly in love, and get married, and have diamonds and ga to Europe, and .nen come home and have some one to take good care of me, and be always on hand to take me to balls, operas, &c. That is my programme." <4And -my programme is to journey into Dreamland. Good-night" After Lizzie retired, Helen sat a long 'time Hv t.hp. crlowinor cmta. listlessly craziner intc J 0~~ O o > J a- a the fire while she braided her hair, but thinking intensely* She had spoken of her future gaily and hopefully; but how different i( might be from her plan. The dear home faces seemed to gather around and look at hei reproachfully. She thought of her father and mother toiling on day after day, carrying a burden of debt and discouragement; of Mary, mute and patient, an orphan and penniless; of her little brothers poorly clad, and neglected because the mother was always so busy, Should it uot be her plan to be a help and comfort to them all, instead of a useless expense rind hindrance ? Tears slowly filled the hearts, and toreign landt) 1 I1 inwt not been a good daughter,thought the penitent girl, "but there is time yet. Iuvill helf them when I go home." Good resolves always nfade Helen forgel her remorseful thoughts. She went to sleep with a light heart, and awoke in the morning with a happy, hopeful feeling; but on turning her dress, out dropped the' porte-monnaie, and her troubles returned. That bill hiust be paid. She must begin helping them at home by sending for more money, and she could nof go to a single evening party for want of 8 dress. "What is the matter, dear ?" Lizzie asked after Helen had made a slightly fretful remark. "Are you not well? If your head aches, lie down, and I'll send you a cup oi tea." "Don't talk to me Lizzie. I am well, bu?" and the sentence was finished by a burst of tears. "Please go down," she said, "T ?l/\*iV car a fnr nnv HrAfl.lffft.qt_" Lizzie's kind heart was much troubled, and she took counsel at the breakfast-table with her father and mother and Fred. "Poor child I" said Mrs. Lee. "It is mortifying to. her not to have suitable dresses, and yet she knows her father cannot afford tc dress her in style. They ought not to encourage her going into society where she will be exposed to such mortification." "I didn't see but that she was dressed well,'1 Mr. Lee said. "I thought she was remarkably pretty in every way." "So she is," replied Lizzie, "but pretty girh want to be well dressed. Helen has nothing suitable for so large a party as Mrs. Krisaler'f will be. Then, I think she made a largei purchase yesterday, than she intended. Pooi girl 1 I wish there was some way to help her bnt I can't think of any. She is so proud and sensitive." "Can't you make her a present of the dress sis ?" Frederic asked. "I doubt whether that would be best," Mrs. Lee replied. "It would be of no use to hei in the country. I fear, too, that her ideas are already, too far beyond her means." "You are rather severe on the child, it seems to me, mother. For my part, I like her al] the better for getting out of the village rou tine, and making such a dainty little lady oi herself." "She will be none the better as a wife Fred," said the father, "for all these extrava gant notions." Your mother, when I married her, had onl) one silk dress in the world, ahd that was t black one; and there isn't a girl in your scl that could hold a candle to her." This was " ~ Tjee'3 ultimatum. If any on( was dressed as well, or looked as well as hit wife, nothing further was to be said in the way of improvement. Christmas morning afforded the desired op portunity to Frederic, who sent a large package to both girls with his compliments, before they went down to breakfast. There was a delicate lavender silk for Helen, and a green moire-antique for Lizzie. "Isn't Fred splendid !" exclaimed the dc lighted sister. "He is, indeed," answered Helen, "but? "Oh! please don't object," Lizzie interrupt ed. "Fred is so sensitive. He always gives me something, and you are our sisterpro tem.' "You are both very kind, and the silk is exquisite. I prefer it to the lace I thought oi getting." Helen's manner was so careless that straight forward Lizzie began to think she had over-estimated her pecuniary erabar rassment. Helen's troubles seemed to be over. Th< dress was made by Lizzie's dress-maker, wh( always sent in a quarterly bill, giving Helei . I time to think about the payment if nothing [ | more.' She wrote Jollier mother for fijre'dolj Jars and received a promptreply enclosing the i i bill. "Make it goaf far as you can," said the > [ letter. "I wish I could send you "fifty instead t of five, but yon must remember that when | you get home* you will need only plaiit,~coni? . fortable clothes." . "Plain, comfortable clothes!" thought Hel3 en impatiently.. "Ldoa?t see why we couldn't t live in the city, and" have money enough to , get a-little goad, out ?Fltfe." rX 3 j The five dollars did but a small part of its r j duty. ?One dollar finished paying the indebt* 31 edness Frederic's'Jrtore; bftt. four dollars | was only "an alonfin^fhe balance .weighed against" the charges of Madame La jKde, . ;l "Never mind," said Lixzie.: ^Madame ? | doesn't wiiht her pay now. Wait wfil she 1 j sends in- her bill to me. Hen- you can send ? it oy letter, 11 youare noi. nere. 1 Mrs/Krisslerij^arty was a aflhw [ *nd Helen entered.intQ ^oompefitiop with tW i 'if> "Heir lack of style is just what I admire, if bjfthatyoii mearithismairaerism which overI lies all individuality, and makes everybody ! alike,'- was the reply. >! "Your face expresses a good deal of iuteH !! est," said Frederic playfully. "No more than I feel," his friend answered frankly. I ''Lizzie had better look out then," thought ! | Frederic, but he wisely, said nothing. j There was a continual round of excitement [ during the holidays; then came a heavy snowI storm which lasted several days. Helen was ; j prevailed upon to ait for her picture to be finished as a crayon sketch, then transferred to canvas. Lizzie was present daring the 1! sittings, and always suffered by contrast with | the piquant, vivacious Helen. With the II inate discernment belonging to coquetry, Helen perceived her advantage, and followed it up by varions little arts that did not look 'at all artificial. "I can't help it if he does &ncy . me more than he does Lizzie. These #ray ; bits of admiration are all I can have, wkjle she has everything delightful." Thus reason' | ed Helen, and became almost persuaded (tfct i she was innocent of any unfaithfulness to her !j friend, or of cruelty to Kenwood Thayer. ' Kenwood's honest soul, however, netrayea itself in so many ways that unsuspecting Lizzie ! began to feel a touch of jealousy, and, when : she had au opportunity, intimated hesitatingly her fears. To her lover it was a revelation of himself to himself. Lizzie was a noble ' girl; he relied upon her friendship, and loved I j her as a sister; but this delicate, beautiful II Helen, a being made of "spirit, fire and dew," ; j to have her for his own at his side, walking-be' j fore him, the impersonation of his art ' | Though he had deceived and been deceived, '' he would be honest with himself and Lizzie. | "It is best," the brave girl said, looking at him with 6fclm, serious eyes, and showing the paleness and compression of her lips. * V "Gm knows." said Kenwood Thayer, and, '' touching her hand wkh hwSip^lefttbe hcfUse. f Lizzie sat still in the great easy^fhair, looking straight before her with tearless eyes. "No one shall know that I care. I can ' keep it all to myself and live through it." | This she said over and over again, as if to gain strength by the repetition. Helen, uu! conscious of what had occurred, came into | the room. "Why, Lizzie 1" she exclaimed. What is 1 the trouble? Has anything happened?' I Had it been any one beside the cause of her trouble, the determined girl would have ^ set a seal upon her lips, but all her indignant ? blood rushed to her face, and rising, she said ! steadHy, but with earnestness: "Helen Weat| on, don't ask me if anything has happened. You have ruined my life." ^ "0, Lizzie," exclaimed Helen, alarmed and distressed. "Don't look so at me. What . have I done?" "It itf too late for deceit. His own lips have . confessed it," said Lizzie, and she walked slowly out of the room, trying to regain her , composure. Helen sat down in dismay and tried to rei call all that had ever passed between herself and Kenwood Thayer. Simply for amuseI ment she had tried to win his admiration, and . had won his heart. Well, her pleasant visit was over, her friends were lost to her, and, , aside from her own fickle, troublesome heart, , she had one which did not belong to her, and j which she did not want. "What is Kenwood . Thayer to me?" she said with disdain. A poor . artist!" , But the conclusion was that she must go i home at once, and feeling that she never could i meet the family while resting under Lizzie's , j displeasure, she, with accustomed impetuosity, j hastily packed her trunk, leaving out the lav, ender silk, put on cloak and hat and went ! down town to see Frederic. He was much ,1 surprised to see her in his private office, but I was so gentle and cordial, and enquired so II kindly if she were in trouble, that her nerv[ oue excitement reached its climax in a hyster-1 ical fit of crying. Frederic understood the P j whole trouble from the few words spoken beI tween her sobs, and comforted her with the , | assurance that he did not think her at all to - j blame, and that after she was gone, Kenwood ! would come to himself and find that he loved ' j Lizzie, after all. His heart was so touched i j by Helen's grief, that nothing but his inveter; erate habit of procrastination in matrimonial 1 affairs, prevented him from offering himself to i her at once. As it was, he ordered a comforta? bly covered sleigh with driver, and went to the > house with her to take a formal leave of the j family. Mr. Lee was not at home. Mrs. I&a . | shook hands with her politely, and hoped her i ride home would be comfortable. Lizzie was I . . i ?; not to oe seen. t "Don't explain until I am gone," Helen i whispered to Frederic. "Then, they will listen, and will know I didn't mean to do anything k wrong." "My dear Miss Helen, do not distress your' self, I will make it all right. You will see me ploughing through your country .snow> banks with a huge olive branch in my hand. ' Good bye, till then." Frederic tucked In the J robes, wrapped his own travelling shawl f about her, and the spirited horses whirled her , away before she could raise her veil and : thank him. , "This is the end," she said, settling into the corner, and resting her aching head against i the cushioned sides. "Is there any pleasure ) in the world f' 1 I [TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.] fpscrtlawwrs ^theirs. ' ** ' ' i " *1 " '' 11 *? ? " r" ? i ACCEPTI^ TtfE SITUATION. 4 Do we ao&pt tSeaKuation ? In a certain sense, "No; in another sense, "Yes." Do we accept Ulysses S. Grant ? No. JHUadministration> in.' whole' or in part? No. The present tariff ? No. The occupation eztrayag?Oice which, attend the collection and disbursement of the revenues ? No. The principles, if any there be, oflbe parte in Siwea? No. The infamous Bn-Kiux bill ? . o".. We do not . accept these things. Far N from it. On the contrary, we repudiate them as heartily $nd sinceceW as you. do, Mr. D*vis, or you,'Mr. Toombs, or you,Mr. St^ph^^^e ^^tion,^er^ i? e^ctly toe ' pi^ary' * .? til: menje wiin-iavor, nucn ??b wim a^uiuuauuu. Yet this is the Attitude' in which the DnvisToombs-Stephens party choose to place all wtirf have-givao^asperence to the New Departure. It is a-fblse -altitude, entirely fake and unjust In this .sense, we "accept nothing," us Mr. Davis (who ought, to have said nothing) would say. But the wordftwWptf' was unfortunately choeen, and does hot at all represent the true attitude of those who occupy the New Departure platform. The Democracy of Ohio put the matter in the right light when they "recognized" these amendments "as accomplished facts/' to war against which, at this time, is folly. To make these amendments an issue in the approaching campaign is folly. It is a waste of -force which, wisely expended, would insuro success. We will give these gentlemen, who fancy they love liberty so much more than we do, au illustration: A British officer in India, while at the card table, felt something on his leg. Looking down, he beheld a cobra di capello slowly crawling up to his body. Without movinga muscle, without changing a tone of his voice, he requested a servant tobring a. bowl of milk and place it on the floor. It was quiokly done, and the yenemous reptile, attracted, bv the odor of .the milk, abandoned bis leg, and the officer was saved from a horrible death by "accepting the situation." Mr. Toombs proposes to lav violent hands on this cobra. We do.not Mr. Davis thinks a loud harangue in the open air will do some good. We do not. Mr. Stephens has an idea that a number of newspaper articles will make the cobra uncoil. We do not We propose to call for a bowl of milk, and call fa aucn mild tones that the reptile will not take the alarm. Recognizing . the character and temper of the Northern, masses, we yield, to existing circumstances,;sad propose to. improve these circumstances by judiciously ' . * adapting means to ends. In that sense, rid' . in no other, we accept the sitaatfoffy Jptt ' end is, the overthrow pune Jttepuoiican gany,the uncoiling of the" cobha. "The 'ineajos . anything but violence eriK<?-e<kalift " 7 m-' 2 thirgr quekched without d#1$k1k,3> \ I It may noWBO' gcnorally known ^c^read^^. ^ water ^cen^inWdlV. ;Tn- illustration 'of this subject a correspondent has seat tu> the following abridged quotations from a' "Narrative of Captain Kennedy's Losing his. Yep- " sel, and His Distresses Afterward," which w?* noticed in Dodle/s Annual Register...m 1769: "X cannot conclude without making mention of the great advantage I received from soaking my clothes twice a. day in salt water, and putting them on without wringing. It was considerable time before I could make the people compjy with this measure, although from seeing the good effect produced they afterward practiced it twice a day of their own accord. To this discovery I may with justice attribute the preservation of my own life and six other persons, who must have perished if it had not been put in use. "The hint was first communicated to me from the perusal of a treatise written by Dr. Lind, the water absorbed through the pores of the skin producing in every respect the same effect as would have resulted from the moderate drinking of any liquid. The saline particles, however, which remained in our clothes, became incrusted by the heat of the sun and that of-our bodies, lacerating our, skins and being otherwise inconvenient; but we found that by washing out these particles, and frequently wetting our clothes without wringing twice in the course of a day, the skin became well in a short time... After these operations we uniformly found that the violent drought went off, ana the thirst was cured in a few minutes after bathing and washing our clothes and at the same time we found ourselves as much refreshed as if we had received some actual nourishment Four persons in the boat who drank salt water went delirious and died; but those who avoided this and followed the above* practice experienced no such symptoms." ,r The Toweb op Babel.?-A writer describes the present appearance of a place where language got mixed: "After a ride of nine miles we were ai me foot of the Bier Nimrood. Our horses' feet were trampling on the remains of-brick which showed here and there through the accumulated dust and rubbish of ages. Before our eyes uprose a great mound of earth, barren and bare. This was Bier Nimrood, the ruins v of the Tower of Babel, by which the first builders of the earth had vainly hoped to scale hjgh Heaven. Here, also, it was that Nebucnanezzar built?for bricks bearing his name hav$ been found in the ruins. At the top of the mound a great mass of brick work pierces the accumulated soil. With your finger you touch the very bricks?large, squareshaped and massive?that were thorcughiyburned, the verv mortar, the lime now hard as granite, handled more than four thousand years ago by earth's impious people. From the summit of the mound, far away over the plain, we see, glistening bright as a star, the gilded dome of a mosque, that caught and reflected the bright rays of the morning sun. This glittering speck was the tomb of the holy AIL To pray before this at some period of his life> to kiss the earth around there at some time or other; to bend hie body and count his beads, is the daily desire of every devout Mahommedan." ?' ^ Kentucky Election.??The election for Governor, State officers* and the Legislature, of Kentucky, is made more interesting in that State than usual, because some forty thousand "colored citizens" will vote for the first time, and a United States Senator is to be chosen in place of Hon. Garret Davis. In spite of the colored accession to the Radical ranks, it is estimated that the Democratic majority will reach 30,000. I?" An observing individual in a very healthy village, seeing the sexton at work in a hole in the ground, enquired what he was * about "Digging a grave, sir." "Digging a grave! "Why, I thought people didn't die often here?do they? "Oh! no, sir, they never die but once."