ditions of the Tyrol, each noble family had its good and its evil genius. The heirs of Brannenburg behieved that their evil demon was invisible, but Adelaide they worshipped as their good angel. It had long been settled that she was to marry one of her cousins. The brothers, who were all deeply in love with her, spared no effort to please her; but Adelaide had never yet declared which was the object of her preference. They all hastened to the heiress with their magic flasks. She was prepared for their visit, and addressed them as follows-" Cousins, listen to my decision. In a year from this time, I promise to marry one of you. But before I make a choice, you must first show me your flasks. He who has broken his must renounce his claim to my hand." The young men were obliged to agree to this arrangement. Hubert, the eldest, cherished the secret hope that he was loved by his cousin, for she had often said to him, with an expression of strong interest and emotion, “Hübert! beware of yielding to your quarrelsome temper. Avoid having always your sword in your hand and threatening words on your lips. The evil spirit is watching to ruin you. Fly all contests and quarrels, or misery will be the result." Christian the second son, was also secretly persuaded that Adelaide was far from indifferent to him, for she often repeated to him, in the most touching manner," Cousin! I tremble for your future happiness, for you are too much addicted to the pleasures of the table. I have heard of riotous banquets at which you have presided. The evil spirit was there laying a snare for you. He knows your weakness. Beware of intemperance-a frightful gulf is yawning beneath your feet." Hamilcar, the youngest brother, was the only one who had no hopes of winning his cousin-for Adelaide had never addressed to him the slightest reproof or exhortation, and consequently, he feared that she felt no interest in his welfare. In his humility, he was far from suspecting that his good qualities were too well known to her to allow her to entertain the least uneasiness with regard to his conduct, and that her silence proceeded from the fact that she found in him nothing to blame. that it would be an easy task to restrain his high temper. A young nobleman named Bertram, a hasty and arrogant young man, happened to be in front of Hubert during the chase of a stag. From ill temper or the spirit of contradiction, he persisted in walking his horse along the narrow path, and by thus stopping the way, prevented Hubert from following the chase. "Tallyho-Tallyho," cried Hubert. Bertram shrugged his shoulders, laughed, whistled, and stopped his horse. Hubert uttered a tremendous oath. my way, brute," cried he. "Get out of "Get out of my way yourself, insolent wretch !” Hubert was furious with rage-he tore off his leather gauntlet and threw it in Bertram's face. The latter, not less excited, threw himself on his adversary. They attacked each other with their swords in deadly combat, and the blood flowed from several large wounds. A sudden noise made Hubert tremble with terror-the sword of his antagonist had pierced his game-bag, and shivered his flask to atoms-the pigmies' glass was destroyedAdelaide was lost to Hubert. He uttered a cry of horror, and attacked Bertram with frenzied rage. His tuture was destroyed, and in revenge he must kill his adversary-Bertram fell-Hubert was the conqueror, and a corpse lay at his feet. "Thou hast triumphed," cried the spirit of evil. Thou art lost-" replied his guardian angel. In his despair, Hubert fancied that he saw an aerial white-winged figure slowly disappearing from his sight. Her lips seemed to utter the word farewell, and her sad countenance bore the features of Adelaide. The next day the church bells tolled for the funeral of Bertram, and Hubert had disappeared. Several months passed away. Christian avoided all festivals and banquets, and only yielded to his besetting sin in the seclusion of his private apartment. He was not reformed, but he was supposed to be so, and the reputation was all he desired. But the evil spirit began to suggest to him that public opinion would not acknowledge his pretended reformation until he had been seen to resist in public the temptations of good cheer amid the excitement of a banquet. The fiend whispered to him that it was cowardly to shrink from observation, and the young man resolved to accept an invitation to a magniticent festival given by the youth of the country in commemoration of an ancient victory. Full of confidence and pride, he doubted not that he would issue victorious from this trial. At his side at the table was seated a stranger, dressed in black, who was unknown to every one present. He constantly replenished Christian's goblet, and invited him to The hunting season arrived. Hubert invited to drink with him. The young man at first resisted the castle the youth of the neighborhood, and the all his attempts-but the stranger mingled sarcasm joyous sounds of the horn echoed through the and flattery with such address, and knew so well woods. It had been remarked for some time that how to render his conversation entertaining, that he avoided all crowds and noisy meetings, but alas, the heir of Brannenburg was soon thrown off his this did not last long. He was soon tired of soli-guard, and gave himself up, without restraint, to tude and quiet, and forgot his good resolutions, the enjoyment of the luxuries before him. The rethough he determined to keep watch over himself past, which was spread in a tent, in the shade of a in the midst of his pleasures, and he doubted not grove, lasted until nightfall. The most delicious The two elder brothers resolved to carry their flasks always about them. Hubert, who was a great sportsman, placed his in his game-bag. Christian enclosed his in his case, hung it at his side at the end of a thick scarf, and was as inseparable from it as a knight from his sword, or a troubadour from his lute. But Hamilcar placed his in the chapel of the castle near the tomb of his father, and kneeling there every day, addressed to Heaven this prayer, O God! strengthen my heart in this path of virtue, and grant that my resolutions may not have the fragility of this glass." wines sparkled; and under their influence, the guests began to convert the feast into riotous bacchanalian orgies. Christian's cup was not a moment empty, and his senses were soon bewildered by the quantity he had drunk. "What is it that you have hung at your side?" asked his black neighbor. "It is neither a horn nor a lyre." "It is a talisman, my friend," stuttered Christian, with his eyes half shut, "the glass of good luck." "Why do you not drink out of it?" asked the stranger. "The glass of fortune should be that of pleasure also." "Very true-exactly so-you're right," replied the young man, completely drunk. "Pour some wine into it." He drew out his precious flask, filled it, and cried, "Comrades, let us drink to our sweethearts." "To all good drinkers,” cried the unknown. "To our riotous orgies." "To our Saturnalia." The noise was deafening. Some magic influence seemed to create the most horrible confusion. They sang, roared, and shouted till the tumult was infernal. The black stranger rose "To all jolly topers," cried he. asked for employment in Hungary, where I hope that I shall have enough fighting to satisfy me. The other letter was from Christian. My dear cousin-I have broken my flask at table. You were right to advise me to avoid banquets and drunken orgies. Wine was fated to be my ruin. If I had lost nothing but my flask, it would not be so hard;-but my hopes of you are gone, and you will soon belong to another. Cousin, it is too cruel! I feel that I deserve a punishment as great as my fault. As a penance, I have retired from the world, and in expiation of my immoderate love of good cheer and wine, I have become a canon of France. The dowager countess of Brannenburg shed many bitter tears over the fate of her two eldest sonsbut Hamilcar still remained to her. He had preserved his flask, and his marriage with Adelaide completed his happiness and that of his family. Hubert and Christian according to the prediction of the pigmies, left no descendants, while Hamilcar became the progenitor of a numerous and noble race. Brannenburg was always the abode of happiness and prosperity. Before his death, Hamilcar in order to secure the welfare of his descendants, caused his flask to be hidden in an obscure corner of the castle wall. It is said that the present own His toast was received with acclamations which ers, while making some repairs, discovered it not rose to frenzy. "No feast without breaking glasses," cried the stranger, and with a violent blow, he broke one of the legs of the table, which was, in consequence, partly overturned. Some of the guests laughed, clapped their hands, and applauded-others became angry, and cried out furiously, "Who gave you leave to break our glasses, you drunken rascal!" Furious at this attack, the stranger threw a bottle at the head of one of his adversaries. A general fight ensued. Everything was overturned and broken. Christian took the side of his neighbor, and threw across the table the first object within his reach. It was his flask! The noise made by its shivering to pieces roused him from his intoxication. He was conscious of what he had done, and felt as if blasted by the curse of Heaven. It seemed to him that the treacherous stranger was suddenly clothed with black wings, and flew away enveloped in smoke. He disappeared, uttering a frightful laugh, and carrying with him the broken flask. Then a sigh of farewell was uttered from the clouds in the gentle accents of Adelaide. Many weeks after this fatal banquet, the heiress was alone, holding in her hand two letters. It was the day when the three brothers were to exhibit to her their glasses. The year was over, and Adelaide was tha: day to make choice of a husband. She opened the first letter, which was from Hubert, and read as follows: My dear cousin-My flask has been broken by the stroke of a sword. Alas! you were right-my quarrelsome temper led to this catastrophe. I must relinquish my hopes, of you, and give place to my brothers. It is hard-but I will endeavor to bear my sad fate with resolution. As some expiation for my fault and to punish myself for my insane love for battles, I have determined to join the army. I have long since, carefully sealed np in one of the wings of the building. MY OLD HOME. Back to the home of my childhood, What a heaven she had in her eye? Of the music they sing in the sky. I think of the school where I studied, Majestically swinging the birch, Thoughts thick as berries in autumn Thus hallow the home of my youth, Where, bless'd, I laid up my fortune In lessons of virtue and truth. Let others beyond the wide ocean Gather harvests of knowledge and cheer; My old home, with a pilgrim's devotion, I'll seek at least once in a year. A GALLON of strong ley put in a barrel of hard water will make it as soft as rain water. flower-beds, parterres and terraces; then a thick belt of shrubberies and elm-trees; then the lofty roofs of the gloomy old mansion, where the Stukelys had reigned since the first Ralph came over to England, and reared the frowning pile; and that had been long enough before to make the house ancient even at the time of which I write, the year of grace 1790. There the two stood, Madelaine Noyse and young Robert Stukely, and in a summer-house on an eminence near sat old Madam Stukely, who glared down upon the pair with angry eyes and a general resemblance in her face to the stone lion of the fountain. Not a syllable of the conversation between the youthful couple could reach her; but for all that she could have told, nearly word for word, what was being said. Pleading with the girl was he, that young idiot? and she pretending to hesitate and be in doubt, standing there, with one hand raised to her cheek, and the other flung over the edge of the basin within reach of Robert's; and he bending towards her, with all his soul in his eyes. The creature knew very well that he would be near when she came out of the cottage, and had set the watering-pot to fill at the basin, as if thinking of nothing but her flowers and their needs. Oh, madam understood! Asking pledges and vows in return for those he offered, was he? Marry her the moment he became a free man, would he? She nced only be patient, and brave, and true, ill he came back from this journey; that was all, was it? Then nobody could stand between them, and the gardener's niece should be Lady of Stukely, and reign there in place of madam-that was his plan, was it? Old madam tore one of her lace ruffles to tatters in an uncontrollable spasm of rage. But by the time it passed she had jumped at a plin with true feline quickness; and now leaned back in her seat, perfectly calin and composed, with even a smile on her mouth, which was beautiful still, in spite of time or her hardness and pride. The jet of water trickled out its slow complaint; the sycamore trees whispered in the wind; tue dying glow of sunset flung a last kiss on Madelaine's cheek; the eager dialogue grew even more earnest; the lovers more and more forgot about the real world, with its trials and dangers lying so close to their radiant dreamland. Then, suddenly, a voice rang across the musical stiliness, and brought them back from their enchanted realm, old madam's voice calling: "Robert, Madelaine, children, I say!" Both started at the unexpected sound, and looked about, uncertain whence it came. No, not with you," she answered, looking into his face to gain courage. "But what can she want? She refused to speak when she met this morning." "Let us go and see. "She says 'children'—that is a good sign, at all events," said Robert, laughing a little. He put Madelaine's arm through his own, and drew her on. Before they had taken a dozen steps madam came out of the summer-house, and walked towards them, erect and stately, the smile still on her lips, but the murderous light slumbering, yet half-hid, in her eyes. So the three met; Madelaine somewhat pale, but composed enough, Robert's glance meeting his grandmother's, stern and defiant. " Now, don't stand there looking so like your grandfather who's dead and gone-Heaven have mercy upon his soul. "Come up to the house, you dreadful Robert, and bring Madelaine with you. How do you do, child? By the way, I fancied you looked pale, this morning, when I met you; 1 saw you, though I pretended not to. You know this horrible boy is to go away to-morrow? That reminds me! I thought I forbade you meeting him again" "It was not her fault," Robert broke in. "Who said it was?" demanded madam, her voice growing still more brisk and cheerful. "It was yours. I know that well enough, young gentleman. Oh, you Stukelys! Just look at him, Maddy dear; there's a frown for you! I told you he had the family temper, and could show it fast enough the moment he was crossed in the least. But there, enough of this. Give me an arm each of you. The sun is setting, and I shall get a fa. mous catarrh if I stop any longer." They obeyed her request in silence, and she wa.ked on between them without speaking another word. They turned into a broad alley, which led to the house, and mounted the granite steps to the colonnade that extended along the principal front of the mansion. In the same silence madam conducted them down the grand entrance-hall till they reached the library. She paused there, took her hand from Robert's arm, and motioned him to open the door, then passed first into the great, gloomy room. Madelaine felt Robert's touch for an instant upon her waist, and the quick caress gave her new strength and courage. They followed madam into the grand old chamber. She sat down on an arm-chair, like a throne, at one end of the apartment. The young couple paused at a little distance and stood regarding her, the utter astonishment visible in Madelaine s fa e reflected in Robert's, with a cer tain defiance and suspicion added. "And now," said madam, at last, "since you will not let me have my way, I suppose the only thing left is to let you have yours, provided you can find out what it is." Madelaine's face was divided between wonder and gratitude. She looked as if unable to realize the reality of what she had heard, and oh, was so beautiful in her confusion! But Robert's countenance was still grave and stern. "I don't know if I understand you, grandmother," he said, after an instant's silence, during which inadam had sat regarding him, as if expecting that he would speak. "I don't know if I understand." Madam's eyes turned from his face to Madelaine's and back again to him, and rested once more on the girl; then she let the heavy lids droop over the sudden lightning which she felt kindle in their depths. He does not understand!" she said, playfully. "What a stupid boy it is, after all. Madelaine knows already, I'll be bound! Oh, there are things the youngest girl could teach any man, in spite of the boasted wisdom of the sex." Robert did not smile. He adored his grandmother; but he could not forget all that Madelaine had been made to sufler during these past days. "Don't be angry, Robert," said madam, and her voice was slow and pathetic now, "don't be angry! I have been thinking a good deal since I quarrelled with you last night. I could not sleep, so I had nothing else to do-thinking-thinking! I have remembered that I am an old, old woman; I cannot expect to stay here much longer, but you musn't hate me during the time I have left. Oh, my boy my boy! Don't let him be angry with me, Madelaine! Come here and kiss me-show him that, at all events, we two do not mean to quarrel." As Madelaine hurried impulsively forward, madam stretched out her dainty white hand and pulled the blushing creature down on her knees beside the chair. Then she kissed the smooth forehead, and let her fingers rest caressingly among the soft, brown curls. in which he showed himself so brave and tranquil said, that the last words on his lips were a prayer for some woman named Constance; and so he passed" to where beyond these voices there is peace." Perhaps such exceptional natures are sent înto this world just to give us poor blind mortals a faint conception of what the limitless sweep of heavenly forgiveness may mean and comprise. That was the truth," repeated madam. "A dull, old story, but you both have wit enough to understand why I told it." Madelaine was weeping softly, and there were tears in Robert's eyes. Old madam smiled complacently, as a great actress might who found that "her point" had been successful. "And now, to come away down through all the years to you two," said she. "Robert, you're a rebellious, ungrateful young fellow! How dare Tell him we do not mean to quarrel, Maddy, you thwart the old woman! I wished you to marlove," she said. ry Miss Gray. You neglect your opportunities, "No, dear madam, no; indeed we shall not," throw away your chances. Back you come here cried the girl. Maybe I have seemed hard and cruel," continued madam; but you must both forgive me, because I mean to do what is right. I did, Robert, though you thought it was all obstinacy and pride. Suppose I were to die while you are gone. I am tough enough and strong enough, but I may die any day all the same, for I am an old, old woman; you'd be sorry then, boy, and it would be too late. Ah, you don't know what it is to be sorry too late!" Robert was also beside her now, close to Madejaine, both looking up in madam's face and speaking incoherent words of love and gratitude. 64 I am not so black as you thought me," she said, with a still softer smile. “Well, well, you're a pair of silly children; but, oh me! its nice to be young and silly! I was so once, Maddy, ugly, and wrinkled and old as I look. I wasn't too well used, Madelaine-they were all against me-fate, my family-all. I wonder I made as good a woman as I did! I loved one cousin, and they married me to another, and poor Robert (I had you named after him, boy) went off to sea, and got himself drowned. That's all my history; no matter how others told it, that was the truth." She sat just under the portrait of the dead-andgone Robert, and told this falsehood just beneath the picture of the man whom her treachery had driven forth, mad and desperate. There was one grain of truth in the whole. She had loved him-the one human being except this second Robert whom she had ever loved, wife and mother though she had been. But she let him go. She found that the grandfather had left the vast Stukely wealth to the other cousin, and she married that cousin secretly, and when the old man was found dead in his bed, Robert learned that he was both disinherited and betrayed by the woman he had worshipped. And of all the world Robert alone had grounds to suspect whose hand mixed the draught the dead man was believed to have swallowed by accident. But he held his peace and went his way. And still another thing, he loved the beautiful woman to the hour of his death; and those who had survived from the awful shipwreck to find Madelaine grown up, more beautiful than she had any business to be. What do you mean by it, miss? You go and fall in love with her, have the impudence to tell me you have loved her ever since you were two babies. as if you were anything else now! Naturally I fly into a passion, rail at you, and abuse Madelaine." Now she looked straight at Robert, but he did not flinch; his face was full enough of pride, but it was not the sort that such a thrust could disturb. Madam's eyes wandered away to a portrait, hanging at a little distance, that of one Ralph Stukely, a second cousin of Robert's, who had been killed in a duel years ago. "Well, I have changed my mind," she continued, slowly, "or rather it has been changed for me." Be still," said she. Boy, look at the portraits. Who is it that Madelaine is like?" Again her eagle eyes wandered back to Ralph's picture; Robert's glance tollowed hers. "Oh, you see it," said she. "Do you understand ?” Madelaine had turned deathly white. Robert rose and passed his arm about her waist to support her. "I don't know what you mean, grandmother," he said, "but you need not tell me now." |