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A careless ball-room etiquette,

A careless introduction, Too often brings within a set

A stranger, and destruction.

And then, of course, sond love is done,

She pouting--John in trouble, 'Tis strange how hearts that should be one

So often will be double.

He spoke of little things that 'guile

The lips in harmless speaking, And every word was with a smile,

Her tastes and wishes seeking.


And so polite! she ne'er had known

Such flattering attention ; Each low, sweet phrase with flattering

sown, And gossip's sweet invention. " Would she but honor him ? The

waltz?" He"so admires her dancing!" Her senses whirl, the music halts

Too soon, 'tis so entrancing.

They parted; John was icy cold,

Too sore at heart to linger.. Within his hand the band of gold

Once placed on Bessie's finger. So Bessie flirted. On and on

The dance went wildly whirling, Till from the east the purple dawn

Its banner was unfurling.
How apt the stranger's words of praise!

How neat his hat and clothing !
Poor John! his awkward country ways

Now Bessie held in loathing.
“ Miss Bessie I will see you home?"-

Assurance and suggestion-
How bashfully once John had come

And stammered out this question !

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For pride and anger similate

The love they cannot fashion, And wounded hearts with petty hates

Know not love's deepest passion.

And Bessie ill at ease all day,

Her old love interceding, Kept banishing the thoughts away

Of conscience gently pleading.

Like soft, low music of the birds,

Oft in her thoughts renewing, She let the stranger's artful words

Complete their power of wooing.

Till ev'ry visit 'neath his pow

She yielded to temptation, Nor realized the fatal hour,

So great her fascination.

The gnarled oak crackled merrily in the old open fire place, around which Aunt Ruth and the young people had gathered in the twilight one evening to tell stories and talk confidentially. They were sitting in a semi-circle with Aunt Ruth in the center of several of the girls, for they were all girls, trying to encircle her trim waist with their short arms each one protesting that it was her turn this evening to sit next to aunty. When the mother was finally settled in favor of the two youngest, Flora and Dora, Aunt Ruth said in answer to the request for a story:

“Well what shall it be then?"

"A fairy 'tory," lisped four-year old Dora, “somefin about Sir Skip and Jump.”

"A ghost story, aunty," cried daring, ten year old Flora, at the same time looking askance in the

As one may cloy of luscious fruit,

He surfeits who has flirted. He left her, stained with ill repute,

Betrayed, and then deserted.

A love that flashes on the mind

Too often proves its treason; A love that's born of reason kind,

May dwell a lise long season.

Let love be love and love is truth,

And it shall dwell forever, No ups and downs of age or youth

Can e'er true love dissever.

direction of the darkest corner of ing, and come back in a few years the cosy sitting-room.

with drooping plumage, despising "A love story," whispered

whispered and hating the mate she had chosNancy, a blushing damsel of fif. en and followed, to pay a sorry Aunt teen, with a timid look up at price for her folly! And who can Ruth from beneath her lashes. tell but that even in this little

"Nothing of the kind, aunty. circle there might perchance be Let's have a good sound sensible one who will ignore the life-long story from real life with a moral teachings of her parents and listen in it." demanded practical Lea, a to the idle flatteries of a stranger, bright lassie of seventeen, clasping whom she sees for the first time, her hands around her knees, and and take his lightly spoken words looking as if she knew that her for gospel truth in preference to words would carry the point. the words of the mother, who * And what

say you, Isabel?" would die to save her child from asked Aunt Ruth, turning to her sorrow and disgrace!" sister's eldest child, the beauty of

An awkward silence fell upon the family, who had not yet seen the little company, for it was gennineteen summers.

erally understood among them "Oh I have no choice in the mat- that Sister Isabel was receiving atter, your stories are always lovely, tentions from a handsome strangaunty, whatever they are; but I

er, much

to the sorrow of her believe I should incline towards


Each one asked herself Lea's request. A story with a if it were possible that Aunt Ruth, moral in it will suit me."

who lived in another town, quite Aunt Ruth sat awhile thinking, far from them, could have got an then presently said:

inkling of the matter. But Isabel “Well to tell the truth I am sat motionless looking at the fire, beginning to get tired of telling where just now an immense strucstories with morals to the young ture, looking like a castle on the people, since the moral generally Rhine fell out of shape and tumseems to be entirely lost on my bled down among the other embauditors; at least they take no ers. She shuddered slightly, restheed of the warnings I hold up ed her head in her hand and said before them. Have I not been faintly: moralizing on the danger for our "Let us have the story, aunty, girls of listening to the flatteries of I know you have one your those who are not of us,

these mind.” many years? And yet, where are "Yes, aunty, hang out the skelthe fruits of my labors? Have eton, let's have a look at it," innot all my sisters had a girl or terposed Lea; "who knows but two fly out from the home nest, a perchance some of us may get bright and happy bird, with a frightened for once at your rattling stranger, of whom we knew noth- of it. I know that you are think






ing about Cousin Clara.

How was
And she

as fond of

me, it about her anyway, I have heard bless you; she was only six years fragments of her dreadful story; old when I came to live with her. but they are living so far away we Well I made it my special duty to never got the whole thing. And teach and train her, and the seed then everybody seemed reluctant I sowed seemed to bear good fruit; about talking of it."

for she bloomed into the sweetest “Yes, and no wonder! no won- womanhood, was a good, obedient der! Well she was as good a girl child, with reverence for the aged, as could be found anywhere till which is something I prize very she met him.

highly. “Who was he, and what

"We heard a good deal about he?' sounded in chorus.

this stranger before we saw him. "We didn't know; no one knew. Accounts his

extravagant He came among us uninvited. He habits reached us, and Clara even said he was a telegraph-operator wondered that some of the girls or something of that sort; but he

were so ready to take

with him, never worked at his trade that I and she was curious to know what heard of, yet he always seemed to he was like. have plenty of money; invited the “One summer afternoon when girls out with him right and left she had been out in town she until he met Clara, when he came home and told us she had seemed to forget all others. Clara met the stranger at a friend's

a pretty, dark-eyed girl of house. I asked her what she eighteen, with a sunny disposition thought of him. O he appears to and a light heart.

She was

be a gentleman,' she said. general favorite among her friends member she was in the act of takand companions. She was a mem- ing off her bonnet and was smoothber of the Sunday School and of ing out the creases in the the Young Ladies' Association strings very carefully and medand was quite religiously inclined. itatively. Strange to say, an unWe all thought the world of her. accountable evil foreboding crept And l-well in fact she was

me; but I said nothing. special favorite of mine; having " That same evening, after suplived with her mother, my sister, per, when she was ready to go to ever since my husband died, as Young Ladies' meeting, she said you all know, and having no chil

as if suddenly remembering somedren of my own-for which I have thing annoying: been tempted to be thankful, 1 " 'Oh that's so! Why mother, when I have seen the course some if this Mr.- Mr.--what's his name of our young people take-and she should call while I'm gone--it's being such loving, good-na- possible that he may--I couldn't tured child, I took to her almost avoid asking him you know----but sa if she could have been my own. I hardly think he will. However,



I re







if he should, you needn't show him portment. But I remembered what the door.'

Clara had said about him that "Why, my dear girl, have we very afternoon and concluded that ever been guilty of such rudeness his manners varied according to to anyone be he ever so obnox- the impression he desired to ious to us?

make; and thinking my sister a "No, no! of course you know plain country woman who wouldn't I did not mean that. But please

But please know the difference, he considbe as hospitable to him as you ered it unnecessary to exert him1-I think we

owe that to self. ourselves as a people to be kind "When Clara came home she apto strangers.'

peared to have forgotten all about "Her mother looked offended at the stranger and it was not till her daughter presuming to teach she was preparing for bed that she her a lesson in what we owe our- said as she turned up the kitchen selves and the church we belong lamp she held in her hand: "Well

It was so unlike Clara, and I did Mr. Brown call?” felt that it was all a studied part “Yes he did,' answered her she was playing, and it gave me mother. *And I hope it is the great pain to detect this her first last time he calls here.' deceit.

"'Dear me, I don't think this "She had not been gone very lamp will burn at all.' And Clara long when a dashing young man pretended to have paid no particmade his appearance. He stood ular attention to her mother's leaning against a pillar of the words until she had got the lamp porch when my sister opened the in good working order, then she front door to him, showing his said with an effort to seem absentteeth and viewing her insolently minded: from head to foot before he de- “So


did not like him? manded in a condescending way if Well!' then hurriedly casting a Miss Somers was in. My sister glance in the direction of the clock very kindly said, 'Won't you come Why it's long after ten! Good in?' He answered discourteously, night.' And she hurried out to No! I'll call some other time. avoid hearing any more Wherewith he sauntered off with subject of what I felt confident, out as much as having wished my was uppermost in her mind. sister good evening.

“For sometime, several weeks I "Well we were not sorry that he think, we heard nothing of Mr. did not come in and my sister Brown, and I began to persuade laughed heartily, saying: 'Well myself that there was nothing in I do not think there is any danger my presentiment after all, till one of his captivating Clara with such day Clara astonished us by saying manners. Fortunately the girl that Mr. Brown was going to take has some idea of gentlemanly de- her to the grove next day, where

on the

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