rully about it, 'cause I was going to be a maid of honor, and I've got the loveliest dress you ever saw,-pink silk, with a lace yoke. I'm going to have my picture took in it and I've promised one to Dick De Vere.

Oh, I forgot you don't know Dick, do you? He's the handsomest boy in our school, and he says-well, never mind what he says! If I told you, maybe you'd say, as mother does, " Do not talk about such things until you are grown up."

Dear me! what was I saying? Oh, I know! I started out to tell you about sister Ernestine and her beau.

Ernestine is handsome; she's got the blackest hair and the reddest cheeks you ever saw, and dresses! why she's got a whole closet full of them, dandies, too! Oh, I forgot I mustn't say that. Dick says it, but, of course, I know girls mustn't use slang. We've got to be nice and proper, while the boys have all the fun.

I just hate being a girl, sometimes! Of course, there are a few things nice about it; getting took to the theatre, and having presents, and things like that, are all right, but when it comes to having a real, jolly wideawake time, why the girls aren't in it!

Oh, dear! I'm talking slang again and it costs a cent every time. I promised my Sabbath-school teacher to put a penny in a boy for the heathen, whenever I said a bit of slang talk, and that's two cents gone to-day!

Hark! (Tip-toes up right.) Yes, that's Ernestine crying. Sometimes she goes on that way for an hour, then she gets mad and won't speak a word, or notice anybody.

Dear me! I keep on talking and haven't told you a word of what I started out to.

Well, you see that Tom Chesley is Ernestine's best beau, the fellow she was going to marry in four weeks. Well, last night mamma went to a party, and it was the girl's night out, too; so mamma told Ernestine I was to sit up until nine o'clock and then she was to put me to bed. Ernestine said she would give me her little violet stickpin, for my sash, if I'd go at eight. But I wasn't a mite

sleepy-an 1 I never liked that stick-pin much anyway Pretty soon Mr. Chesley came in and I could see, right away, that Ernestine was kind of mad about something; but he brought her a box of Huyler's and was as sweet as honey. She never tasted of the candy but threw it over to me. I curled up on the sofa, and was having a real good time eating and watching, when she began by saying, "I trust that you had a pleasant drive to-day." " Drive?" he said, just as astonished as could be, "I do not understand!" "Why, Grace Cameron told me that she saw you and the young lady who is visiting Alice Green, out driving," said Ernestine. Then he said, “Miss Reynolds? Why, Alice is mistaken, I have scarcely met her." Then an awful puzzled look came over Ernestine's face, but she wasn't quite as cross, as she said, "That's strange! She certainly said that she met you on the turnpike road and you seemed to be having an especially good time!" Mr. Chesley acted nervous like, but said, "Alice is near-sighted you know, and her eyes deceived her."

Then he put his arm round Ernestine and asked her how she could believe such a thing. She said something that I couldn't hear and he said, "Admire her? No! there is no woman in the world half as lovely as my dark-haired beauty!" And then they stepped into the alcove and I heard him kiss her.

When they came out, she was fixing her hair and saying, "So you do not admire blondes?" And he said, Yellow hair looks well enough on ninty-nine-cent dolls, but on a real, live woman--bah!" Ernestine laughed and said he was a "dear boy!

I kept on eating candy and they was a-fussing round and whispering, when he says, all of a sudden, “Oh, I nearly forgot! I brought you a book to read. that's me, "won't you bring me my overcoat?" ran out into the hall and brought it in.

Dot,"

So 1

some

I was just going to give it to him, when I saw thing shine near the collar, and I said, "Oh, see what is

on your coat!" What do you think it was? An ear-ring, with a long yellow hair caught on it! Ernestine took it and never said a word for a minute, then she threw the coat on the floor and told him never to enter her presence again!

He tried to speak, but she stopped him and said: "Tell Miss Reynolds when she wants her ear-ring to ask me for it. Come, Dot, you have shown me how false a man can be!"

Then she took her lovely diamond ring off and threw it at him, saying, "Take that thing out of my sight and never dare speak to me again!" Then she pulled me out of the room and began crying, just awful. I was scared but she wouldn't tell me a word of what it meant and pretty soon I heard the front door slam and I knew he had gone.

When mamma came she had to send for the doctor, 'cause Ernestine had high-high-something, I don't know what.

This morning, Jack-that's my big brother-said he'd horsewhip Chesley! and mamma cried and said it was an awful disgrace to have the engagement broken when everything was ready for the wedding. Pa pulled his whiskers and said, "Chesley's money will cover a multitude of sins." But Ernestine says she will die before she will ever see him again and-oh, dear! I don't know how it will all come out.

It seems to me it's an awful fuss to make over a hair and an ear-ring! She's got the ear-ring, anyhow, and she could have the stone set in a ring, and what's the use going on so about a hair! Girls are queer, anyway-'specially grown-up ones.

Well, I guess I'll run out to the gate and wait for Dick. He's the only fellow worth having, anyway, and I'm going to stick to him-until I find him out in something mean, then I'll give him the grand bounce! (Hand over mouth.) Oh, dear, there goes another penny for the heathen! (Runs out.)

{

AFTER THE WALTZ.-BEN WOOD Davis.
By permission of the Author.

Of what am I dreaming?-of Violet's glance,
Of Jessie, whose wit is as keen as a lance,
Of Lillie's complexion, as spotless as milk,
Or Isabel, blazing in diamonds and silk?

Of what am I thinking-some love-affair? Yes,
I have thoughts that I struggle in vain to repress;
Old feelings long laid in their burial cave,
Like spectres, arise out of memory's grave.

While dreamily gliding around in the dance,
To ravishing music that seemed in a trance,
With its sensuous swell and its slumberous sway,
And melody melting in murmurs away,—

While the glittering lights flew around, here and there,
Like a bevy of fire-flies waltzing in air,

While I heard the low laughter that stirred through the

room

And the whispers that stole on the wings of perfume,—

Your face disappeared, by another face hid,

Like a picture that over a picture is slid,
And I thought of a woman, my loveliest foe--
Ah, often we waltzed in the long, long ago.

The time is not long when 'tis reckoned by years,
But a dreary existence when measured by tears;
How often the heart is a gloomy old sage,
When the hypocrite face is a stripling in age!

We stood by the river; the star-dimpled skies
Were bending above us; our passionate sighs,
Our vows of devotion, the ripples soft gush,
These only were heard in the midsummer hush.

Uplifted to mine was her beautiful face,
As fondly she lay in my loving embrace;
And I turned from the many stars shining above,
To gaze on the two that were beaming with love.

My kisses I pressed on her blushes, so coy,
And she whispered to me in a tremor of joy,

"When the river runs back and the stars cease to shine
Then only my heart will be faithless to thine."

The stars are still shining above, as of yore,
The river still ripples and runs as before;

But where is the woman who stood by my side?—
My God, I have suffered!—another man's bride.

How little I thought, from the vision of bliss,

I should wake to a terrible ending like this!
Human hearts seem predestined to make a mistake,
In the Eden of love there is always a snake.

The serpent came into my garden of love,
And his voice was as soft as the coo of a dove;
He blighted my Paradise, made me depart,
And the flaming sword still is consuming my heart
When Cupid gives sentence the laws are reversed,
The heartless escape while the tender are cursed;
Oh, merciful heaven, for loving too well,

Is it just that the soul should create its own hell?

He could bow with society's daintiest grace,

He was handsome,-a curse on his handsome false face! He could flatter as well as a poet e'er sung,

While the depth of my love always silenced my tongue.

How bitter to build an idolatry sweet

And find that the idol lies wrecked at our feet!

How hard when the heart must confess to its shame,
The idol, though shattered, an idol the same.

To turn from my heart, which was honest, at least,
Was it fitting to lavish her love on a beast?
Is it fate, is it chance, is it heaven's design
That the pearls of affection are cast to the swine?

The shadows of midnight are filling a room,
Where a woman is sitting alone in the gloom;
She sits with the tears in her beautiful eyes,
And her bosom is shaken with sobbings and sighs.

She suddenly starts, and her heart gives a bound,
As in fancy she hears on the stairway a sound ;
But the sound of the steps into silence has died;
Her tears cannot hasten his feet to her side.

Mid the sparkle of wine and the rattle of dice,
And every attraction that varnishes vice,
Where cluster society's frivolous fools,
To swell the vast army of knavery's tools;