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A FASHIONABLE PARLOR. How many people do we call on from year to year, and know no more of their feelings, habits, tastes, family ideas and ways, than if they lived in Kamtschatka! And why? Because the room they call a front parlor is made expressly so that you shall never know.

They sit in a backroom, work, talk, read, perhaps. After the servant has let you in, and opened a crack of the shutters, and while you sit waiting for them to change their dress and come in, you speculate as to what they may be doing. From some distant region, the laugh of a child, the song of a canary-bird reaches you, and then a door claps hastily to. Do they love plants? Do they write letters, sew, embroider, crochet? What books do they read? Do they sketch, or paint? Of all these possibilities, a mute and muffled room says nothing. A sofa and six chairs, two ottomans, fresh from the upholsterer's, a Brussels carpet, a centretable with four gilt Books of Beauty on it, a mantle-clock from Paris, and two bronze vases, - all these tell you only in frigid tones, "This is the best room,' only that and nothing more, and soon she trips in in her best clothes, and apologizes for keeping you waiting, asks how your mother is, and you remark that it is a pleasant day; and thus the acquaintance progresses from year to year. One hour in the little backroom, where the plants and canary-bird and children are, might have made you a fast friend for life; but, as it is, you care no more for them than for the gilt clock on the man

tel. - Mrs. H. B. Stowe.

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A NEW Volume of the Quarterly begins in January. This work has been greatly improved under the editorial management of Rev. T. B. Thayer, and deserves the liberal support of every Universalist. Terms $3.00 per year.

No better present can be made to a child than a book. State the character of the book you wish, and remit the price to Tompkins & Co., Boston, and they will satisfy your wants by return mail.

MINDA.

By M. J. Cole.

"MISS MINDA, caught at last!”
"Not quite!"

And away darted the mischievous girl from beneath the shade of the large appletree where she had been reclining when disturbed by the rude salute of John Lee. On she ran, over the green grass, now dodging behind a tree and adroitly evading her pursuer, until, by a short der, and held her firmly. turn, he placed a hand upon either shoul

"Now I've captured you!" he said, triumphantly.

"Yes; but by superior strength, not superior strategy," she retorted.

"No matter how, you're caught at last; so come now," he added, pleadingly, "come back and sit down under the appletree. I've something to tell you."

"Tell it here. I can listen just as well."

John Lee; but he had made up his mind The mischievous tone nearly unmanned to learn his fate that day from the lips of Minda Davis; for he was going far away now, and he had loved her from boyhood. from infancy, he had ever stood in awe of But though she had been his playmate her ready wit, and if he had attempted to speak seriously of his feelings, she had ever repulsed him by some lively sally; He had been an extensive reader of roand thus things had remained until now. mance, and had determined to clothe his proposal to-day in such language as to she had nearly driven the nicely-prepared defy her witty criticism. By her mirth, speech from his mind; but rallying his scattered senses, he led her back to her seat in the shade, and falling upon his knees, began, in a most passionate strain, and with long-drawn, high-sounding adjectives, to tell her of his adoration, and to ask her to become his. He paused, breathlessly, for her reply. Regarding him a moment in mock surprise,

"What long words! I wonder what they mean! You know, John, I never was very good in 'definitions.' Do pray tell me what all those words mean! And she laughed a merry, mocking laugh.

Quickly John Lee arose and dropped the hand he had taken.

“Minda, Minda,” said he, painfully, "I have made a great mistake. You do not love me, I feel it now, -or you would not ridicule my last attempt to make known to you my feelings. Pardon me, Minda; but I am going far away on the morrow, and I wished to know all before I went. I've enlisted, and go to Worcester to-morrow to be sworn in, and very likely I shall not be able to return again before I enter the service. But what is this to you? I must be gone! Good-day!" And with rapid strides he retraced his steps to the village.

"Enlisted?-going away?" mused the stupefied Minda. "John! John!" she called.

But his rapid steps had taken him too far away, before she had sufficiently recovered from her surprise to be able to speak, for him to hear her voice, and she was left alone.

Sudden was her transition from mirth to grief; for, in truth, John had not loved Minda better than she had loved him.

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Poor John!" she murmured, between her sobs; " gone away, and not a mother, sister, or any relative to care for him, and I, too, have been unkind to him. Oh, I cannot write to him, for I do not know either his company or regiment!"

Poor Minda! she sobbed herself to sleep that night and many other nights, and she was destined never more to be the light-hearted, joyous creature of former days. She did not spend her days in weeping or idle repining, it is true; but she seemed, in those few days of darkness, to have stepped from girlhood to womanhood. A Soldiers' Aid Society was formed in her native town, and none were so 'active, none so zealous in the good cause, as Minda Davis. "I cannot work for John," she thought; "but possibly some of these things may reach him at some time;" and diligently she labored.

In the mean time, no tidings came from John. The family to whom he had been bound, and who had "brought him up," were so much offended at his leaving them that they refused to correspond with him;

and as Minda had said, he had no relatives, and he had no heart to write to friends; so everything in regard to him was shrouded in mystery.

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Nearly two years of the three for which John Lee enlisted had expired, when one day, in looking over the list of killed and wounded in a recent battle, Minda saw the name of John Lee. He was reported 'badly wounded in the right arm." For a moment her heart stood still; but Minda was a woman now, and carefully noting the regiment and company, and the hospital to which he had been assigned, she calmly read the list to the rest of her family, so calmly that none guessed the struggle it had cost her.

But now came exclamations from the rest of "Poor John! his right arm, and he a poor boy with nothing but his hands!"

"And his head, mother," quietly remarked Minda.

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True, Mind, he has a good head on his shoulders," replied her brother Henry; "but yet it's an awful thing to lose one's arm. Let me see," he continued, "what company, regiment, and corps is it? I'm going to write to him. I always thought it so strange he didn't write to me. He promised to, the day he came here before he went away. He said so just the last thing before he went off into the orchard to find Minda. I told him she was out there, and that's the last I've seen of him. He did not come back to bid us good-by, and he has never written us either. Minda, what did you say to him that sent him off in such a hurry?"

But Minda had left the room, and in her chamber was weeping as she had not wept since those first dark nights after his departure.

She secretly hoped Henry would write to him; and he did. And after a long time, there came a reply written in a strange hand; for that right hand could not hold a pen yet, though they had not amputated it. Yet his physician thought it would never be of much use to him, and a discharge had been offered him; but he would not accept it; "for what home have I but my country?" he wrote,

"what mother, what sister, what friend he turn, and go to the house by another but she?"

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"That's the talk! John's a trump! said Henry, after reading his letter. "I knew he was all right;' just read it, Min.!" And he threw the letter into her lap, and left her alone to read it.

But one more letter was received before the term of John's service expired; and in his reply to that, Henry, joined by his father and mother, - and even Minda was induced to add a word,― urged him to return and make them a visit ere he joined the invalid corps, which he wrote he intended doing when his term of service expired, as his hand still continued useless, thus unfitting him for active service.

Whether the few words written by Minda influenced him, or whether it was only from a desire to see once more his native place, is not for us to say; but he did decide to return. And he sincerely believed it was only from a desire to see once more his native hills; for he thought that he had fought against his love for Minda until he had driven her image entirely from his heart, and had schooled himself to meet her as calmly as a common friend.

It was a bright, pleasant morning in June that a returned soldier, with his right hand in a “sling," stepped off from the cars at R- station, distant about

way?" Pshaw! no; he was a man now. And he walked boldly forward.

Minda did not see him until he stood before her. Rising, in surprise, she extended her hand, and burst into tears.

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Why what, Minda?" he stammered; for this was quite unexpected in one so fun-loving as Minda had ever been. "Are you so sorry to see me?" "No, no, but-forgive me for my rudeness at our last interview. I have suffered so much in consequence of it.”

"Is this true? Is it possible you are sorry for what you then said? Can it be?" And he bent his head low, and whispered words which had not been studied; and Minda comprehended them, too, and gave a reply which was perfectly satisfactory, as was attested by the happiness both faces expressed as, half an hour later, they turned homeward.

John Lee did not join the invalid corps; but yesterday there was a wedding at Mr. Davis's uniting the "brave with the true," even John Lee with Minda Davis.

ANECDOTE OF AN ELEPHANT. An officer in the Bengal army had a favorite elephant, which was supplied daily in his presence with a certain allowance of food; but being compelled to absent himself on a journey, the keeper of the beast diminished the ration of food, and the animal "Wish a hack, sir?" asked a very its master returned, the elephant exhibited daily became thinner and weaker. When obliging driver, touching his hat. "Not any, sir. My feet are sound, the greatest signs of pleasure; the feedalthough my arm is shattered. Just helping-time came, and the keeper laid before set this baggage into the office till I call for it, and I'll go on foot."

three miles from Mr. Davis's residence.

John-for it was he looked about

for a familiar face; but seeing none, he set off, across the fields, toward Mr. Davis's house, following, unconsciously, the same path over which he had passed in such rapid strides three years before. How different were his emotions we may

never know.

When he arrived at the little orchard back of the house, he paused; for there, beneath that same tree, in her favorite seat, sat Minda, not idly dreaming now, but busily engaged in sewing. Should

it the former allowance of food, which it divided into two parts, consuming one immediately, and leaving the other untouched. The officer, knowing the sagacity of his favorite, saw immediately the fraud that had been committed, and made

the man confess his crime.

is an appropriate and beautiful present to "OVER THE RIVER," by T. B. Thayer, a parent or an aged friend.

SPECIAL attention is called to the last page of the Editor's Table, to the remarks of the publishers.

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THE SPY OF THE MISSISSIPPI.

By Mrs. C. M. Sawyer.
CHAPTER VI.

A REMARKABLE change had passed over the face as well as the entire aspect of the negro, from the moment his master disappeared from the cavern. It was like magic. The dull, stolid look, the bent, ungainly gait, the stupid, unintelligent movements of his mind,- all were suddenly exchanged for a bright, quick glance, active motions, and thought that seemed to take in at once all the difficulties and intricacies of their situation, and to provide their remedy.

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"Now, massa, we'm get ready; and, fust place, dis darkey'll perwide fixins for de journey," said he, with a deep, guttural yah! yah!" as from the various receptacles among the stalactites on the walls he drew forth loaves of bread, pieces of nicely-cooked venison, and three or four bottles tightly corked.

"Massa like good tings," said he, holding them up; "he ollers keep plenty wine and brandy. Not for nigger to drink, though; so he lock 'em up. But ole nig tink he get away some day, p'raps, and so he 'teal and hide 'em. See, we hab plenty to eat and drink!"

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I see," said Carleton, who, with the pedler, had watched the movements of the negro with much interest, mingled with much doubt, also; for amid all the preparations for their escape, the most important as yet seemed lacking, mode of from the cavern. egress "I see you are laying in a brave store of rations; but how are we to find our way out of this dungeon? There is only one door, so far as I am able to discover, and a lock like that which I just heard click against us is neither to be picked nor broken. Even if it were, the guard which is undoubtedly left in the outer cavern would effectually prevent our getting beyond them."

"Lor bress ye, massa! on'y jis wait five minutes, and I show yer anoder ting dan dat ar! Yah! yah! yah! Dis ole nig know a ting or two; ye'll see dat ar,

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most activity and thoughtfulness, went on with his preparations, packing the rations in Carleton's haversack, hunting out of one of the larger recesses an old butternut suit for Carleton.

"Ye see, massa, us may meet some o' dem yare debbles 'fore we gets clean away, and de captain o' de company must hab uniform dat will cheat 'em. Hasn't got anoder for dis yere pedler, and he dun't need 'em, any way. De ole coat he hab on look bad as rebel coat."

At this moment, the key was heard in the lock of the door, and the negro had barely time to whirl his preparations into a dark corner, and assume the old stupid look, when the door opened, and the guerrilla leader, followed by two armed men, entered. He looked around with a lowering face, as if he suspected treason among his prisoners and slave; but the face of the negro was perfectly blank, and Carleton and his companion wore the air of assumed indifference they had done from the beginning.

"Har you, Josh!" growled the brute, after a moment; "what ye 'bout thar? wake up! Stir yere old stumps, and get some fixins for these yere fellows, and see that ye take car of everything while I'm gone! Ef ye dun't, I'll whale ye!" "No, massa, I'se keep wide awake!" said the black, stumbling along in his pretended zeal to show himself active.

"Is dese yere prisoners gwine to stay yere wid me, massa?"

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Yes, and you look out for 'em, ef the guard dun't!"

"Oh, yes, massa, I'se do dat ar. Shall I whale 'em. I kin do it, massa! Yah! yah!"

bolt shot into its socket, the key withdrawn, and the footsteps of the guerrilla gradually die away.

Here was a dilemma the negro had not bargained for; and how to dispose of the guard-two huge, dark-browed, fiercelooking villains, armed to the teeth with rifles, pistols, and bowie-knives - would have been a difficult question for a keener intellect than an African is supposed to possess. But the extraordinary exigen

cies of the occasion called forth extraordinary abilities in the slave. Fortunately, he was a sort of favorite with the guerrilla band. They were in the habit of frequently jesting with him, in a brutal sort of way, amusing themselves with his apparent stupidity and awe of them; and now, after exhausting their brutal insults and coarse jests toward the prisoners, who seemed little disposed to make much reply, they turned for entertainment to the negro, who, contrary to his usual habit, met their ribaldry with some spirit and wit.

This was a new manifestation to them, and they roared and shouted with laughter at his sallies, swearing he was a good fellow and should have something to drink, producing, at the same time, a bottle of whiskey, and pouring out a cup for him.

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Har, take this yere, and see if yer can pull sich blasted faces as them yere yanks out there in t'other cavern."

The negro raised the cup to his lips and tasted it, when, with a gesture of inexpressible contempt,

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Faugh!" he exclaimed. "Ye tink dis yere darkey_gwine ter drink sich stuff as dis yere? You can't kotch a weasel The guerrilla's reply to this pleasant sleep dis yere fashion. I drinks brandy sally was an oath and a boisterous laugh.de best ole Monologohela brandy, sar!" His "nigger" pleased him. But he had the grace to say,

"No, I dun't 'low my pris'ners to be whaled unless they try to get away, and I reckon they wun't do thet ar yere. This key will make thet ar sure, to say nothing o' these yere boys' rifles."

And with another coarse laugh, he opened the door and went out, leaving the guard behind him. The prisoners then heard the huge lock grate, as the

and he straightened up with a look of infinite superiority. "Ye kin drink dis yere, ef yer want ter; dis nig dinks notting but brandy."

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Brandy?" they both roared out. "Whar der yer git yer brandy?"

Oh, I knows, sar; but I darsn't tell." "Tell, blast yer! We wont let nobody hurt yer."

"But ye'll tell massa, and he'll whale

me."

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