WATCHING FOR PAPA. PAPA! I wish you would not go away at all!" cried little Jamie, climbing into the lap of the bronzed and bearded man who sat in the great armchair. "but we poor sailors can not do as we would. "Oh! I wish you were back again now," said the little boy, leaning his head against the broad "I wish I need not, Jamie boy," he replied; shoulder, and stroking the curling brown hair. "So I am, Jamie," laughed his father,-"back again, and just going off. So it goes all the time. But we'll be through with all parting by and by, when we reach the safe harbor." And he glanced reverently upward. "God grant we may each of us anchor there, in his own good time!" A tear stood in Captain Bryant's eye as he stooped, and kissed his son. "I shall be looking for you, when you come, papa," said Jamie; "you may be sure of that. I'm going to watch every day, till you come." "Well, you can see me go to-morrow, by looking sharp as we sail by the lighthouse." "Yes, indeed! we did last time. We'll take the old glass and go up in the tower; won't we, mamma?" Mamma nodded, and tried to smile; but these partings were sad things, and were growing more so every time. But, for Jamie's sake, she must stay on shore, and let her sailor-husband go away alone. By and by, when Jamie was educated, she intended going, too, wherever the good ship "Eagle" went. The next day came, the farewells were said; and Jamie armed with the old field glass, went with his mother to the highest window in the tower to see the ship sail by. They watched for a long time; but just at noon a white sail was seen, and then the whole ship came in sight. "There's dear papa's ship!" shouted the little boy. "Good-bye, dear papa, I'll watch till you come back." They waved their handkerchiefs, and threw kisses, though they knew they could not be After a time, they went down again to the house, while the "Eagle," spreading her great wings, carried the captain far away from his dear home. seen. On many a day after this, Jamie took the glass, and stationed himself at that same upper window. Weeks and months went by, until it was almost time for the "Eagle's " return. "When will it be time for papa ?" asked Jamie, one day. "It seems as if he'd never come, as long as I live." "Only a month more, darling," said his patient mother; "just a little longer, and he'll come." 'Only a month!" But in that time little Jamie became very ill. Night after night, his mother watched over him; but still he lingered. "Oh, if his father might only come!" she sighed and prayed. At last, one night, he said: "Mamma, tell papa I watched for him as long as I could. Kiss me, dear mamma; for I'm going to be with Jesus. I'll watch for you both up there, and I shall know it when you come." And when the "Eagle" came into port, bearing the good captain home again, there met him the sad tidings that his little boy was gone, indeed to the "safe harbor," where with God's help, we all hope to "Anchor by and by." Above all things, avoid laziness. There is plenty to do in this world for every pair of hands placed on it, and we must work that the world will be richer, because of our having lived in it. A TANGLED WEB. BY ISADORE. E had just finished a game of cards, Diana I am Jule's aunt; but you must not therefore infer that I am very old. I was ten years old when he was born, and having just begun to dip into Roman history, was quite delighted with the name they gave the baby, only I wondered they didn't add the Cæsar. I was perhaps fifteen when my brother, his wife, Jule, and I were returning by rail from a visit. The train ran off the track, and plunged down an embankment. My brother and sister-in-law were killed instantly; I escaped with a few bruises; Jule was unhurt. But all this was long ago; and now Jule was twenty-five, and 1 had grown into dignified spinsterhood, and presided over his household, as he had once run rampant in mine. Miss Adair was staying with us for a few days, and that night we had been playing. I say we; for I had sat and looked on, though the game was in the hands of the young people. I always take high moral ground in such matters; for when I play, I invariably lose, so never gamble myself, nor countenance it in others. I pretended to be watching the game, and gave random advice whenever it wasn't wanted, But really I was thinking more about the players. I remember my first thought on meeting her was, "I wonder where this Diana will find her Endymion." Afterwards, I knew where she could find him if she would; and that was one reason why I had invited her to our house-that is Jule's and mine. Diana Adair was everywhere acknowledged to be a "splendid girl." Very handsome,-I could see it if my sight was beginning to fail,-very queenly, an heiress in her own right; no wonder I sometimes trembled for Jule when I saw her host of admirers. The game was over; Diana had won. She sat idly scribbling upon a card-the deuce of hearts. The clock struck ten. "Your preparations are all made for to-morrow, Di?" I questioned. We had an invitation for a fortnight's sojourn with one Mrs. Burland. "Yes," she replied, laying down the card. "Then I think we had better retire, so as to be up betimes." Di and Jule each bade me good-night, took up a candle, and departed. I picked up the card. Upon it was written : "I know a girl whose skill in play She has no need of clubs to fight, To play the deuce with hearts." This I supposed to be an epigram; but the fact is my ideas have always been rather cloudy on the subject, and I really don't know what constitutes that article. Still I judged this to be one, or at least an attempt in that direction; I only wondered that the brilliant Diana Adair should write anything so stupid. However, it was of very little importance, so I went up to my room. I had on a dress of iron-gray; and, as I took it off, I thought, "This will do to wear to Mrs. Burland's." The distance was only about ten miles, but I had an aversion to spoiling my clothes; remember that I am an old maid. Mrs. Burland had two children, yclept Gus and Amy; and, when we arrived, I went up to the nursery before changing my dress. They had possession of a pack of cards, which Amy was counting. "There ith one gone," she lisped. What is it?" asked Gus. "The deuthe of heartth. Ellery." Oh, thereth Mith "Miss Ellery," said Gus, have you any cards with you? you always have what we want.' I involuntarily put my hand into my pocket. There was the deuce of hearts that Di had been writing on. I gave it to Amy. ..Thatth the card that Captain Anderly wath writing on lath night," was her comment. "No, it ain't," protested Gus. "That was a deuce of hearts, and this same verse; but it ain't a bit like his writing." "You have forgotten," said Amy. "I thaw him write it, and athked him if he made it up himthelf, and thaid yeth; and then the clock thtruck ten, and ma thaid we mutht go to bed, for we had that up too late already. How could any one elthe write it if he made it up?" That was just the question I asked myself. Who was this Captain Anderly, who wrote the same words, on the same card, at the same hour, as Diana Adair? I thought the child must he mistaken. My speculations were interrupted by Gus who broke in with: "I guess I hadn't forgotten either, Miss Amy; I've found the one he wrote." He triumphantly displayed a card with the same inscription, though, as he said, the hand was very different. I was puzzled. However, it was almost dinner time, and I went to my room to dress,-we had started much later than we intended, as the morning had been showery. At dinner I occupied a seat on the right of the mysterious Captain Anderly; Diana, one at his left. Jule sat opposite, alternately talking with Miss Charlotte Burland, a niece of our hostess and throwing terrible glances across the table. Captain Anderly chatted gaily with Diana, or rather at her, for she replied in a constrained manner, as if it cost her a severe effort. I did not like the man; for I regarded him as the cause of my perplexity; still I was obliged to own that his appearance and manners were decidedly prepossessing. His conversation was charming; light and unimportant, yet interesting. Then he didn't depend on one to answer him, but went on with his story as if he knew we were pleased, and wouldn't trouble us to say so. He even took the pains to please me, Eliza Ellery, spinster; and Eliza Ellery would have been delighted if it hadn't been for the mystery of the card, all mysteries being her aversion. After dinner, by common consent, we adjourned to the lawn and garden. Of course this afforded an opportunity for every one to stray off with the companion he liked best. I wandered apart from the rest, down toward a most charming grove, and there, half reclining on a rustic seat, I found Jule. As I approached, he assumed a more dignified position, and made room for me. "What do you think of Captain Anderly, Aunt Eliza?" he asked, as I sat down. "I think he's a very agreeable man," I replied, partly because I knew he wouldn't agree with me. "I don't," he said. "Just look there." I looked, and saw Di and Captain Anderly examining a bouquet. He was evidently explaining the sentiments of the flowers; for we caught the words, "This signifies :" &c. "Language of flowers!" said Jule, contemptuously; "that's just his style. I wonder she's foolish enough to listen to him!" “Julius Ellery," said I solemnly, “you are in á bad humor because Di Adair is flirting with Captain Anderly. I don't blame her in the least. She saw you flirting with Charlotte Burland, and she's fighting fire with fire." "She didn't see any such thing!" ungallantly broke in Jule. "She saw Charlotte Burland flirting with me." "Well, I don't pretend to say which was active and which was passive; but really you didn't appear to suffer much." "Not enough to spoil my appetite," he replied with a sort of grim smile. "Now," I said, "I'll catechise you. What do think of Miss Adair?" He muttered something that I did not understand; and just then Amy Burland ran up exclaiming: "Oh, Mithter Ellery, our thwing ith broke; won't you come and help uth fikth it?" He went very willingly, and Mrs. Burland appeared, and told me she had such a delightful plan for to-morrow, and she wished me to help her make arrangements. We were to go to Willow Pond for a sail, and, being tired of that, to land on the opposite bank for a picnic dinner. She wanted my advice as to the best manner of distributing the party, as the boats were too small to hold more than four or five each. This matter being arranged, I was to say nothing about it until the next morning. It was announced at the breakfast-table; and every one expressed delight except Di. She sat silent, with an absent look, as if she was calculating an eclipse; and Captain Anderly said: "I like the plan very much, but Miss Adair and I intend to ride this morning; so we will go by land, if you won't miss us very much." "We shall miss you very much," said Charlotte Burland, "at least I know of some one who will,” glancing at Jule who was profoundly occupied with his plate; "but if you and Miss Adair have decided, there is no changing the laws of the Medes and the Persians." So they went by land and we went by water; and we censured their conduct very severely, and Jule and Charlotte flirted desperately, and Di looked pale and ill at ease, and the picnic passed off to admiration, and at last night came, and we went home. Well, there were all sorts of amusements indoors and out; and every one said they had never known such pleasant days. But I know that Jule wished himself a hundred miles away, and only stayed to watch Di. One evening, about a week after our arrival, I had stayed in my room with a headache, when I heard a cry, and exclamations of surprise and horror. I hurried down, and in the passage met Jule, who was carrying Di to the door for air; she had fainted. I was surprised at this; for I knew she was not sentimental enough to faint for effect, and I could learn nothing from the excited crowd about her. I went into the parlor. Captain Anderly was just leaving accompanied by two detectives. I turned to Mrs. Burland, the only one in the room. "What has happened?" I asked. 'Diana," I said, as I entered her room. A hot flush rose to her cheek. "You have found me out then," she said. "I have found you, and shall not lose you again. Why did you hide yourself from us?" "You remember that awkward affair of Captain Anderly. Everyone thought I was in love with Captain Anderly has been arrested," she replied. him. When he was arrested, I saw you all pitied "On what charge?,' "As counterfeiter. He was just leading Miss Adair to the piano. She screamed and fainted. Poor girl! I believe she really cared for him." Diana passed the door on her way to her room, but about half way up the stairs, sank down help less. me. I never could bear pity, and so I left, and disguised my name, until the matter should blow over." "But," I broke in, what connection was there between you and him?" and I went on with eager questions about the singular occurrence of the cards, and her strange knowledge of his death, and "Carry her to my room," I said. "She must stopped at last for breath. not be left alone." She lay as if in a trance, her breathing just perceptible, until about one o'clock. Then she opened her eyes, and said: "He is dead." Captain Anderly." I thought she was wandering, and said no more. She fell into a troubled sleep at last, but was awake early in the morning. "I'm going away to-day," were her first words. "Miss Ellery, I thank you for your kindness." She went in spite of all advice and entreaty. About an hour later we heard that Captain Anderly had strangled himself in jail with his handkerchief. A gloom was thrown over our pleasant company, and one by one the guests departed. The next two years passed evenly onward, when I fancied that Jule looked pale, and persuaded him to take a short trip South. We stopped one day in a quiet village, which I fancied for its homelike aspect. At dinner in the hotel, I noticed a young lady, whose face called up old memories, which I could not weave into distinct remembrance. asked my hostess with regard to her. I 46 You have heard of clairvoyance," she said. "Our spheres harmonized, as it is called. I could not withdraw myself from his influence. They said Diana was proud and self-willed, and never knew that she was slave to another's will. He commanded me to write those words. I saw him die. He could bring any image before me. I do not think he cared for me; he only wished to make me feel his power. He never led me to anything dishonorable, but he seemed to delight in embarrassing me, as in that affair of the picnic. Well, it is over; he is dead." A little five-year-old could not quite understand why the stars did not shine one night when the rain was pouring down in torrents. She stood at the window pondering on the subject with as much gravity as Galileo when he looked at the swinging lamp in the cathedral of Pisa, and with equal suc "That is Miss Anaid," she said; "Riada Anaid." cess, for all at once her countenance lighted up and "Is she a foreigner?" I asked. she said: "Mother, I know why the stars don't shine. God has pulled them all up so as to let the water come through the holes." A pail standing ten minutes where it is exposed to the scent of a strong smelling stable, or any other offensive odor, will imbibe a taint that will never leave it. There is no man so friendless but that he can find a friend sincere enough to tell him disagreesble truths. KITTY TOM'S STORY. BY MARGABET VERNE. WAS a peculiar cat. I was decidedly an odd cat; I was odd-looking, as well as odd in my appearance. I was eccentric in my dress; I wore constantly a garment of the purest white, with a line of black running from my nose to the tip of my tail. Some people maliciously called me line back, but I was too indignant and by far too wise to let the title to become fixed to me. I always put on the most stolid air of indifference when I was addressed by it, nei her recognizing by look or motion my odious connection with it. My name, the name my young mistress had given me, was Tom -Tom Barstow. To be sure, she only called me Kitty Tom-the Barstow was of my own adding, and all for the love I bore my mistress. FORK I think the two gentlemen hated each other though both were too emphatically men of tre world to own to such a feeling openly. Yet for some reason they never met at my mistress' house. which was a source of much wonder to me, since they both came so often and stayed so long now more than half suspect that she laid plans to keep them apart, for certainly everything could not run along so smoothly, had it not been so. But at last, much to my regret and constant sorrow, Mr. Dutton's visits began to grow, not beautifully," but alarmingly "less," while Mr. Bruce came oftener than ever. I tried vainly to learn the cause of this sudden change, but my mistress remained provokingly silent upon the subject, not even mentioning the name of Jasper Dutton. In my own mind I accused her of heartlessness, though I think if I had heard any one else express such an opinion, I should have gone wild with mingled rage and indignation. The thought of having Fayles Bruce for a master grew more and more torturing to me every day, and I did not fail to express my disapproval of him in a vehement manner at every opportunity; while in return, he was truly worthy of a better cause. Upon the whole, I do not think there was a finer, nicer, sleeker, plumper cat in the whole town than I; a cat who was more respected and beloved, or who had more warm, carnest friends. But I was selfish; I slighted the love and kindness of every-abused and tormented me with a perseverance that one, save my mistress with whom I lived. Her love was all in all to me; I cared for nothing beside in the uncertain line of human affections. Her happiness and comfort were my greatest cares. I think she realized this, certainly it was not my fault if she did not; I tried earnestly enough to make it known to her. My mistress was beautiful and an heiress, and more she was an orphan, so that my protection and care did not come amiss; still better or worse-for I am a bachelor in my thoughts and feelings, and so write the better for my mistress and the worse for myself-she had lovers; an army who stood bashfully aloof from her, and two who ventured very near. Of the two who monopolized her time and thoughts and attention, I had formed entirely different opinions. I was not the only one; she had ventured to take the same liberty. But, alas? my mistress favored one, and I the other. She showed her preference for Mr. Fayles Bruce in pretty, sunshiny smiles every time he made his appearance. I testifled my dislike in little, sharp, angry arowls, rounding and humping my back nervously, and sometimes by spitting (the greatest insult I could offer him,) when I heard his step in the hall. One bright, beautiful morning, when Mr. Dutton had not been to my mistress' house for more than a week, and while she was out upon a shopping expedition some one came to the door and left her a note. The servant brought it into the parlor, where I was sitting upon the sofa, and laid it upon a side table. I was a very inquisitive cat, and so the moment that Hannah was well out of the room, I mounted the table, and commenced turning the delicate little missive over with my white paws. My mistress' name was on the back of it, "Miss Florence Barstow," written out plainly and boldly. My heart leaped up with joy as I read it, for I knew at once the penmanship was Mr. Dutton's. What could be in the inside of it? I attempted to break the seal, but was prevented from doing so by hearing Mr. Bruce's well-known ring at the door. The other, a plain, dignified gentleman with ways that were well worth studying for their depth of meaning, my mistress treated in a manner that was at once strange and incomprehensible to me. First she was gay, glad and happy in his presence; then she went off into such a state of gloomy abstraction as to quite chill mc. But I did not change in my treatment towards him; I always evinced the same warmth of manner, though he came three times a day instead of three times a week. There was little use in denying it; I hated Fayles Bruce, and admired Jasper Dutton. The one pinched my ears, pulled my hair, and even kicked me, when my mistress was not observing him; the other always petted me, talked to me as though I possessed common sense, and gave me a comfortable seat upon his knee when he came. My first thought was to jump from the table, and hide under the sofa, but I feared if I did so, my mistress would never see Mr. Dutton's note, and so I resolved to bravely keep my post, in spite of everything, seating myself, meanwhile squarely upon the envelope. I trembled violently when Mr. Bruce entered the room, saying to Hannah that he would wait until Miss Barstow returned home. I crouched down, more like a thief than an honorable cat, as I was, as he crossed the room and seated himself upon the sofa opposite me. For several moments he did not observe my presence, but when he did, he ballooed at me so loudly that I was nearly frightened out of my senses. "Hallo, Tom, you have chosen a rare seat, haven't you, during your mistress' absence? Allow me the pleasure of assisting your most gracious lordship in descending to the floor?" But I declined his assistance in a most decided manner, rising resolutely upon my hind feet, as he attempted to clutch his fingers about my neck. "Show fight, eh?" he remarked, maliciously, thrusting his long fingers into my side. "Well, fight while you have an opportunity, my good |