"Well, I hain't nothing to say agin it," drawled out Hez. "Can't wait sir-better take your seat."

"I'll be gall-darned ef I dew, nother, till I've got my breakfast! I paid for it, and I'm goin' to get the valee on't; and ef you calkelate I hain't, you are mistakin.”

So the stage did start, and left Hez, who continued his attack upon the edibles. Biscuits, coffee, &c., disappeared before the eyes of the astonished landlord.

"Say, squire, them there cakes is 'bout eat-fetch on another grist on 'em. You" (to the waiter,) "'nother cup of that ere coffee. Pass them eggs. Raise your own pork, squire? This is 'mazin' nice ham. Land 'bout here tolerable cheap, squire? Hain't much maple timber in these parts, hev ye? Dew right smart trade, squire, I calkelate?" And thus Hez kept quizzing the landlord until he had made a hearty meal.

"Say, squire, now I'm 'bout to conclude paying my devowers to this ere table, but jest give us a bowl of bread and milk to top off with, and I'd be much obleeged tew ye.”

So out go the landlord and waiter for the bowl, milk, and bread, and set them before him. "Spoon, tew, ef you please."

But no spoon could be found. Landlord was sure he had plenty of silver ones lying on the table when the stage stopped.

"Say, dew ye? dew ye think them passengers is goin' to pay ye for breakfuss and not get no compensashun?”

66

Ah, what? Do you think any of the passengers took them?"

"Dew I think? No, I don't think, but I'm sartin. Ef they air all as green as yew 'bout here, I'm goin' to locate immediately, and tew wonst.

The landlord rushes out to the stable, and starts a man off after the stage, which had gone about three miles. The man overtakes the stage, and says something to the driver in a low tone. He immediately turns back, and on arriving at the hotel, Hez comes out, takes his seat, and says

"How air yew, gents? I'm rotted glad to see yew.” "Can you point out the man you think has the spoons?" asked the landlord.

"Pint him out? Sartinly I ken. Say, squire, I paid yew four-and-ninepence for a breakfuss, and I calkelate I got the valee on't! You'll find them spoons in the coffee-pot." "Go ahead! All aboard, driver."

The landlord stared.

TRUE SOURCE OF CONTENTMENT.

A man in his carriage was riding along,
A gaily-dressed wife by his side;

In satin and lace she looked like a queen,
And he like a king in his pride.

A wood-sawyer stood on the street as they passed;
The carriage and couple he eyed,

And said, as he worked with his saw on a log,
"I wish I was rich and could ride."

The man in the carriage remarked to his wife, "One thing I would do if I could

I'd give all my wealth for the strength and the health
Of the man who is sawing the wood."

A pretty young maid with a bundle of work,
Whose face as the morning was fair,
Went tripping along with a smile of delight,
While humming a love-breathing air.

She looked in the carriage, the lady she saw,
Arrayed in apparel so fine,

And said, in a whisper, "I wish from my heart,
Those satins and laces were mine."

The lady looked out on the maid with her work,
So fair in her calico dress,

And said, “I'd relinquish position and wealth
Her beauty and youth to possess.”

Thus it is in this world, whatever our lot,

Our minds and our time we employ

In longing and sighing for what we have not,
Ungrateful for what we enjoy.

We welcome the pleasure for which we have sighed,
The heart has a void in it still,

Growing deeper and wider the longer we live,

That nought but Religion can fill.

THERE'S A SILVER LINING TO EVERY CLOUD.

ELIZA COOK.

The poet or priest who told us this
Served mankind in the holiest way,
For it lit up the earth with the star of bliss
That beacons the soul with cheerful ray.
Too often we wander despairing and blind,
Breathing our useless murmurs aloud;
But 'tis kinder to bid us seek and find
"A silver lining to every cloud."

May we not walk in the dingle ground

Where nothing but autumn's dead leaves are seen, But search beneath them, and peeping around Are the young spring tufts of blue and green.

'Tis a beautiful eye that ever perceives

The presence of Godin mortality's crowd;
'Tis a saving creed that thinks and believes
"There's a silver lining to every cloud."

Let us look closely before we condemn
Bushes that bear nor bloom nor fruit,
There may not be beauty in leaves or stem,
But virtue may dwell far down at the root;
And let us beware how we utterly spurn
Brothers that seem all cold and proud,

If their bosoms were opened, perchance we might learn "There's a silver lining to every cloud."

Let us not cast out mercy and truth,

When guilt is before us in chains and shame. When passion and vice have cankered youth, And age lives on with a branded name; Something of good may still be there,

Though its voice may never be heard aloud, For while black with the vapors of pestilent air, "There's a silver lining to every cloud."

Sad are the sorrows that oftentimes come,
Heavy and dull and blighting and chill,
Shutting the light from our heart and our home,
Marring our hopes and defying our will;
But let us not sink beneath the woe,

'Tis well perchance we are tried and bowed, For be sure, though we may not oft see it below, "There's a silver lining to every cloud."

And when stern Death, with skeleton hand,
Has snatched the flower that grew in our breast,
Do we not think of a fairer land,

Where the lost are found, and the weary at rest!
Oh, the hope of the unknown future springs

In its purest strength o'er the coffin and shroud! The shadow is dense, but faith's spirit-voice sings "There's a silver lining to every cloud."

REMARKABLE INSTANCE OF PRESENCE OF MIND.

In a solitary house on Wandsworth Common, about the beginning of the present century, lived a gentleman and his niece, their domestics consisting of a butler and two female servants. This gentleman possessed a great deal of valuable family plate, and having occasion to go from home, he gave the key of the strong closet in which it was kept to his niece, requesting that she would herself take charge of it. This she promised to do; and, having every reason to suppose that he was leaving his family under safe guardianship, her uncle set out on his intended journey.

A day or two afterward, the butler came to his mistress, saying that he thought it would be a good opportunity for him to clean this plate, as he knew his master was particular about its being nicely kept, and requesting that he might have the key of the closet for that purpose. Not supposing for a moment that he had any other motive in ask ing for the key, she was on the point of giving it to him, when something in the expression of the man's eye made her hesitate, and replacing the key in her pocket, she merely said that her uncle had left no orders to that effect, and she should, therefore, prefer its being left until his return. Surprised to find that the butler still persisted in his request, the young lady spoke still more decidedly, saying that she never interfered in her uncle's arrangements; and the discomfited} butler went down stairs, leaving his young mistress not a little astonished at his strange behavior.

That night, after locking her bedroom door as usual, as she was walking towards the dressing-table with the candle

stick in her hand, she was not a little startled to observe this man crouching down behind an easy chair which stood near the wall. In an instant his conduct in the morning flashed across her mind, and she was no longer at a loss to account for his motive in wishing to possess himself of the key. Determined not to betray, by look or gesture, that she was aware of his presence, she quietly put down the candlestick, and seating herself in a chair beside the dressing-table, took up her Bible and endeavored to read, praying most earnestly that she might be enabled to do whatever was right. Human help she had no means of obtaining; for even were he to allow her to leave the room (which was not very probable,) she wisely judged that to call two terrified maids to her assistance would be worse than having no help at all; and therefore, commending herself to the protection of an all-powerful Saviour, she remained for some time with her eyes fixed upon her Bible, now and then turning over its sacred pages, and gradually becoming calm and self-possessed.

At length, having resolved what to do, she rose from her seat and proceeded to undress, as usual, first taking the key of the plate-closet from her pocket and putting it down with some little noise, that the man might know where to find it. She then knelt by her bed-side, and after silently imploring the protection and wisdom she so sorely needed, lit the rushlight on the hearth, and extinguished her candle. As this extraordinary girl laid her head upon the pillow, it was in the firm assurance that nothing could happen to her without her Heavenly Father's knowledge.

After awhile she heard the chair gently pushed, and through her closed eyelashes she could see the man cross the room and take up the key and the candlestick. He then lit the candle and came to her bed-side. She had just time to perceive some kind of instrument in his hand, but lay perfectly still, breathing as regularly as a little child. Not by the quiver of an eyelid, nor by the slightest flutter of the breath, did she show that she was awake, even when she felt the bed-clothes drawn down from her face, and knew that the robber was stooping over her, watching her countenance most intently. He then went to the foot of the