who had once been mortal, and the flame which had illumined the dark cavity where I was bad been caused by the noxious gases generated in the decaying body of the unfortunate man, who must have been immured in a living sepulchre. In a frenzy of terror I uttered wild screams for help, but only the echoes of my own voice answered, and no other sound broke through the dread stillness save the hurrying rush of many feet, as swarms of rats filed over and away from

me.

Huge drops of sweat welled up and stood in dewy beads upon my brow; yet a chill sensation shook every nerve and muscle in my body. I could see nothing in the intense darkness; but, as if lured by fascination, I glanced in the direction of the ghastly figure until my eyes were almost out of their sockets. I fancied I could see the long bony arm of the skeleton thrust itself forth to grasp me; the fleshless face, the hollow temples seemed clear to my sight, and the white rows of t.eth seemed to mock and grin at me in my despair. I was but a youngster, and I could bear the horrible phantasy no longer; my overstrained nerves relaxed, and I swooned.

How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell, but when my senses returned, I heard a noise a short distance ahead of where I lay, and saw a ray of yellow light gleam through the interstices of some loosely stowed packages on my right. Then the sound of a man's voice fell upon my ear, and by the tones of it, I knew that a sailor named Carstairs was in the vicinity of where I lay.

"It's a good thing for us the mate thinks, it's the lumpers as broaches the cargo, or we'd never get a drop of this good liquor. I say, Bill, can't we smuggle off enough to last the voyage home?" I

heard him say.

"Carstairs!" I balloed, in a faint voice, that sounded strangely unnatural even to myself, "Help! I'm jammed up in here."

I heard the crash of glass, as if a bottle had been let fall.

"Bl! Bill! did you hear that?" half shrieked the terror-stricken sailor.

""Tis summat onnat'ral, anyhow. Let's get out o' this J e. I knew no good would ever come of this way of doing business," replied his compan

ion.

"Mercy, mercy!" said the sailor, his stalwart form trembling all over as his gaze fell upon the ghastly figure which the glare of the lamps revealed to us in al! its repulsiveness. ""Tis some poor fellow who's stowed himself away for a passage," he added, when the first agony of surprise had passed away.

I was sorely bruised, but no bones were broken. The sailors assisted me along until I got under the main hatchway; then they went up on deck, and told the mate they thought some one was down in the hold. He, thinking I had made a capture, opened the hatch, and I was hoisted, more dead than alive, from the hold beneath.

I explained all to the mate, except the part relating to the sailors, for I did not wish to get them into trouble, as they had aided me; and the next day the remains of the unfortunate stowaway were brought up on deck. From a paper found in the pocket of his coat we ascertained his name and former residence, and afterwards learned that the unhappy man had wished to join his sweetheart in Australia, but having no money to pay for his passage, he had stowed himself away in the pump well, whence no sound could reach to the deck, and so met the terrible fate I have recorded. There was no more cargo broached at night aboard the "Water Nymph" that trip.

Makes a perfect bed. No mattress or pillows required. Better than a hammock, as it fits the body as pleasantly, and ies straight. Folded or opened instantly. Self-fastening. It is just the thing for hotels, offices, cottages, camp-meetings, sportsmen, etc. Good for the lawn, piazza, or "coolest place in the house." Splendid for i valids or children. Sent o receipt of price, or C. O. D. For 50 cts. extra, with order, I will prepay expressage to an railroad station east of Mississippi River and north of Mason and Dixon's Line. For 75 cents, in Minnesota, Missouri and Iowa.

HERMON W. LADD, 108 Fulton St., Boston; 207 Canal St., New York; 165 North Second St., Philadelphia. Send for Circulars. 5-7

AND NOT WEAR OUT.

"For mercy's sake, don't leave me here to die!" I cried.

"That's the third mate's voice, for sure," said Carstairs. "What is hé arter down there? Spying on us, I s'pose. But if he's gotten hurt it's best we should go and help him; he's not a bad sort, and perhaps won't split on us."

Flinging cases and bales aside, they advanced quickly towards me, guided by my voice as I repeatedly hailed them. At last only one case lay between them and me; they rolled it away, and grasped the one beneath which I lay.

"Are you much hurt, sir?" asked Carstairs. "I can scarcely tell," I replied, as they lifted me up. Then I pointed in the direction of the skeleton. "Look there!" I said.

6-5

J. S. BIRCH & CO., 38 Dey St., New York.

ON

30 DAYS

We send on 30 Days' Trial our ELECTRO-VOLTAIC BELTS, BANDS, Suspensories, Trusses, and other ap pliances, to those suffering from Servons Debility, Weaknesses, or Lost Vitality from any cause; or to hose acted with Rheumatism,

TRIAL Paralysis, Dyspepsia, Liver or Kid

ney troubles, etc., etc.; or Ruptures. Speedy cures guaranteed. Our Illustrated Pamphlet Free. Address VOLTAIC BELT CO., Marshall, Mich. 4-3

17-STOP ORGANS

Sub-bass and Octave Coupler, boxed and shipped only $97,75. New Pianos Z195 to $1,600. Before you buy an instrument be s re to see my Mid-summer offer illustrated, free. Address DANIEL F. BEATTY, Washington, N. J.

7-6

pleased look, the money in her reticule. "Yes, my dear madam: there is no one, as I have often told people, with your moderate fortune, that has ever acted so generously as you have in the missionary cause; neither have I ever known you to turn the poor away unfed, or neglect the contribution box."

"How could I be human and do such a thing?" trying to conceal, under a look of holy horror, her satisfaction at this praise. "Mercy! if I only had Mrs. Mayfield's wealth, I would soon illustrate the

meaning of charity. I don't see how that woman can speak and pray as she does in church, and have such a heart."

"Nor I," indignantly answered Mrs. Logan. "I have been to her on charitable errands, to-day makes seven times, without her giving one cent. And this is not all I have against her: yesterday I saw her shut her door on that poor lame old beggar, whose wife says he is sick with consumption, and depending upon him, in his infirmities, for food. Oh! it made my heart ache to hear him talk."

"He came here," said the other complacently, " and I took care to add to the generous sum he mentioned as your giving him. That woman is a disgrace to this charitable neighborhood. I wish she had never moved here; and I guess she will too, when she finds out how her meanness is commented upon."

"I rather think," returned Mrs. Logan, with a satisfied laugh," she found that out to-day; for I told her how unpopular her selfishness was making her in the neighborhood, and in the church too." "What did she say to that?" asked the other, looking pleased.

"O, she was as saucy and independent as possible," replied Mrs. Logan, vindictively. "She said, that, as no one in the place where she had spent her life till coming here had ever censured her for want of charitable feeling, she should not be troubled about the reproaches of people who were nearly strangers to her."

"Just hear the conceit and pride of that miserable thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Giles, her green eyes snapping angrily. "Oh! I will show her to the people, just as she deserves; I'll pay her for not returning my calls. She thinks herself better than the rest of us."

"I have noticed," remarked the other, a little bitterly, "that she don't display much of such feeling towards the Grovers: she visits them; and -well, it must be her handsome face that has perfectly bewitched them, for they won't hear a word against her."

"Things will take a turn one of these days, and then the ones she has so deceived will have their eyes opened to her artfulness," declared Mrs. Giles, shaking her spare head prophetically.

"Heaven grant it!" was the emphatic return; "and now good-day, my dear madam. Of course I shall see you at the foreign-aid meeting to-night." "Nothing would tempt me to stay away," smiled the other, as with many regrets for her departure, she followed her visitor to the hall door.

"She is an honor to our neighborhood, Philip!" exclaimed Mrs. Logan enthusiastically to her husband, a few days after her call upon Mrs. Giles.

"What divine act has your paragon been executing now?" inquired Mr. Logan, with a yawn.

"How indifferent you are to everything good!" retorted his wife a little impatiently. "But I will tell you what it is: you recollect the poor lame old man, who was here begging last week?"

"Oh, yes!" assented Philip, smiling provokingly; "but he wasn't lame any more than you or I, Annie."

"Not lame!" repeated Mrs. Logan, opening her eyes; my gracious! if he wasn't a cripple, then I never saw one!"

"Counterfeits appear as real to some as the genuine," maintained Philip, a little sarcastically. But don't get angry, wifey," he added coaxingly; "I won't bother you any more. Proceed."

"Well," continued Annie, a little mollified, "Mrs. Giles gave him twenty-five dollars, and a new suit of clothes, the other day. Just think, Philip," she went on animatedly, "of a woman, who can hardly be called wealthy, making such sacrifices! I declare, it is touching;" and Mrs. Logan pressed her handkerchief over real tears, while her cruel husband laughed outright.

"You're a wretch, Philip Logan," cried the little lady, as she arose, and flirted towards the door. "I never speak in praise of that beautiful woman but what you laugh or get vexed."

"Annie," Mr. Logan asked seriously, did it never strike you, that, under her shrewd face, flettering ways, and extravagant charities, she might be de

ceitful?"

"No, never!" returned his wife indignantly; "and your opposition to my associating with her will only make me like her the more."

"Very well: do so, then."

Philip spoke sharply, though his face wore an injured look, as he hastened away from the room. "He don't know one thing against her, and I am not going to give up such friend just for the ridiculous suspicions he has taken into his head," pouted Annie, as, when left alone, she realized, with a little regret, that something very like a quarrel had occurred in their pleasant married life. But her meditations were broken by the sight of Mrs. Mayfield, who lived nearly opposite, tripping down the steps of her handsome house, carrying a basket and bundle.

"The mean thing!" Mrs. Logan exclaimed contemptuously, while she watched her disappearing around the street corner; "takes in work, and does her own marketing, I know. So miserly! And then she keeps only one servant, while my dear Mrs. Giles, who isn't half so able, has two all the time." |

It was twilight that evening when Annie rang the bell at Mrs. Giles's door. She had been longing all the afternoon to add her praises for the benevolent act which had been praised in church the preceding day, though it had been publicly enough known before from the donor herself.

"The mistress is seeing the children to bed," explained the servant who answered Mrs. Logan's ring; "but if ye'll be pleased to come up into the nursery, for sure the sitting-room and parlor be all paint, she'll soon be at liberty."

Annie did as desired; and when the girl left her in the nursery, she thought herself alone, and began, by way of diversion, to examine some pictures on the wall. But voices, coming through the board partition at her right, undeceived her. One was Mrs. Giles's, but so harsh, so savage was it now, as to be hardly recognizable to the surprised listener. The other belonged to her little step-son, Willie Giles, who was left an orphan when his father died a year after his marriage with this

charitable paragon. Mrs. Logan had long noticed that the child grew thin and pale, and was no longer happy and frolicsome after his parent's death. But Mrs. Giles assured her, with tears, "that it was because he was hereditarily consumptive; that, ob, yes, he must soon follow her dear Lucius,there was no help for it." No help? Annie found out the true reason, as, unable to move from the sound of those voices, she stood listening by that partition.

That evening, after dark, some trifling errand called her into a neighboring street. It was quickly accomplished, and she turned homeward. She had reached her own door, when, in the bright moonlight, she observed her neighbor, Mrs. May. field, depart from her house, as on the preceding day, with a basket and bundle.

Something-she could not then define-made Annie Logan turn away from the gate she was opening, and silently follow this woman she dis

"But I'm hungry, mamma," beseeched little Willie, piteously. "The dog got the corn-bread you gave me to-night."

"You lie," was fiercely cried, while sounds of blows and painful cries followed. "You're a glutton, just like your father. Yes, you brat! you both almost ruled me while he lived; but I have paid you since, and given you a good time at being hungry as the old fool was glad to see my children."

"O mamma! papa!" the little voice moaned, "take Willie to heaven. I'm so sore, so hungry, -I want to die."

"I wish to God you could, you little idiot!" came hissing from that tongue which spoke so sympathizingly. so lovingly, to outsiders: "and if it wasn't for having my own neck broke, I'd get rid of you some way."

"Oh! what is woman, what her smile,
Her lip of love, her eye of light,-

What is she, if her lips revile

The lowly Jesus? Love may write

His name upon her noble brow.

And yet she'll be a lighter thing than vanitty." And what if, added to this, she can rejoice in the torture of a little friendless one, and force him, by that cruelty, to hope for no happiness, love, or beauty, short of heaven? She is too corrupt to walk under the sweet sky, and live here among God's glories; and so thought Annie Logan. She despised that woman now as entirely as she had admired her before this shameful revelation, and could hardly resist the temptation to burst into that room, and vent her indignation upon the hypocrite; for, under Mrs. Logan's quick and impulsive temperament there was a warm heart, and it pitied that poor child now in a way that made tears spring to her eyes.

shops or markets towards which, unaware of her softly stepping companion, Mrs. Mayfield wended her way. "Where was she going?" Annie, much surprised, was asking herself this question, when a well-dressed but drunken old man came reeling against her. Heavens! did she dream? or could this creature, walking with difficulty, through the effects of strong drink, be the saintly cripple to whom, without stint, she had often given from her moderate purse? She must be deceived. No: it was he; not now lame, but jibbering such profanity, as he staggered away, as made her heart sick.

"I have been deceived," thought Annie, as, with strange feelings, she hastened more quickly after Mrs. Mayfield. Henceforth, judgment, instead of impulse, shall guide me in my charities."

"Tell your mother here are the rest of the clothes my servant ironed this afternoon; and in the basket you will find the custards and wine I promised to bring. To-morrow I will come again, and dress the baby."

It was Mrs. Mayfield's sweet voice addressing a little girl, who, as if expecting her, stood on the shaky steps of what looked like a log-house, so rough, so poor was it in every respect.

"Why, this appears like charity," thought Annie, who, concealed behind a tree, looked with much surprise on what was passing, and half convinced that Mrs. May field wasn't such a wretch as she had thought her to be, after all. "God bless you, dear lady!"

There could be no deceit in this exclamation, which came from the white lips of the poor invalid, who had painfully reached the little doorway, nor in the beautiful face of the little child as she raised her small hands towards Mrs. Mayfield, and said earnestly:

"Oh! you're so good; and Johnnie and I and poor mamma pray for you every night when we say 'Our Father.'"

The room, too, of which Mrs. Logan caught a glimpse, though clean, was scarcely habitable. Want, deserving want, was there. "And Mrs. Mayfield!" Annie gulped something hard in her throat. "She had injured, misjudged her; yet, after all," she concluded, as her neighbor, with assurances, left the poor woman and child, "perhaps this benevolence is only some freak; she may not ever have extended it to any one else, and perhaps never will to this woman again. Yes; I must be farther convinced, before I repent of what I said to her the other morning."

That was not the way home Mrs. Mayfield was taking. Should she follow her again? The feeling which controlled Annie Logan now would have

quickly dispelled any diffidence or shame which might have arisen for thus dogging her neighbor's steps; and so gliding after her with the silence of a shadow, and concealing herself as best she could whenever she discovered the other looking back, she saw her enter a small cottage in which she knew George Landor, who was a porter in Mr. Mayfield's store, lived. "Probably some trifling errand," surmised Annie; "for they can't be poor enough in there to need charity, for, though he is not worth any property, he has steady work, and that "

Who was that weeping so inside the house? The windows and doors were all open this hot night, and Annie heard it plainly. She could not resist the desire to creep behind the tall syringas brushing one side of the open doorway, and listen, while, if she chose, she could look unnoticed into the room where Mr. Landor, with his head bowed in his hands, sat with his wife and children. It was the mother who had attracted Annie hither.

"They have put him in jail, my boy, my darling Eddie," she moaned, rocking herself to and fro. "He was innocent, Mrs. Mayfield," she went on pitifully. "He would never have stolen that money if the wretches there at the tavern hadn't, to gratify their grudge against him for being a good, steady lad, drugged the rum, the first he ever drank, and then tempted him. He wouldn't have done it in his right mind."

"No, never," solemnly declared George Landor, raising a face so anxious and white; "and there he is breaking his heart, thinking of this trouble to us, and we haven't the money to free him. O God! my Eddie! my boy!" with his head bowed again.

"Yes," assented her neighbor; and her cheek red ened a little as she drew her hand from Mrs. Logan's, adding, while she stood looking at her with noble pride, “Well?"

Annie felt hurt but she knew she deserved this. Then she said earnestly—

"Mrs. Mayfield, I have been beside George Landor's door to-night; have seen all that passed in your interview with them, Noble woman!"and, no longer able to restrain her emotion, she seized her hands," I have found out who is the true Christian, the true giver. Oh! pardon me, and teach me the charity that is so pleasing to God, and which only seeks praise for its deeds in his smile and a happy conscience."

Mrs. Mayfield had not expected this; but now it did not take a moment for her generous nature to decide.

band found out this afternoon how little your child was to blame in that affair, and it did not take me long to decide to bring you money enough to pay his fine. Here, Mr. Landor," she continued, forcing her wallet upon him, "take this; and, if there should be more than enough, you are welcome. No more cry ng, my dear woman!" Her voice trembled a little with this playful command. "Cry!" repeated the poor n.other, as with her face all lighted with joy, she went upon her knees before the rich woman. "If I do, it will be from happiness."

"I am only a poor man," said George Landor, as soon as the glad tears permitted him to speak, -"only a poor man; yet, O, ma'am ! if you could look into my heart, you would say that the blessing there is upon you was not poor or cold. My boy! you have iven him back to us! How can we ever repay you?"

"Do not ask me," said Mrs. Mayfield smiling, and, oh with what a light in her eyes! "for it is such happiness for me to know that it is in my humble power to free your dear boy, that I feel I am the debtor in this matter. Go and bring your child home, Mr. Landor; and may God bless you all! Good-night."

Ah! hers was the true home charity; not dictated by impulse or pride, but born of conviction and the sympat hy which angels love, and gladden

ter."

Mrs. Giles had prophesied an awakening in the neighborhood; but to the reverse of her expectations, it occurred to her own hypocrisy and Mrs. Mayfield's virtues; for Annie Logan had taken care to make each known as they deserved. And little Willie was removed from the guardianship of his cruel and deceptive stepmother, and soon became a cheerful and robust boy.

Three Indians, in the vicinity of Green Bay, became converts to the temperance cause, although previously given to "put the enemy into their mouth that stole away their brains. Three white men formed the charitable resolution of trying their Indian sincerity. Placing a canteen of whiskey in their path, they hid themselves in the bushes to observe the motions of the rcd men. The first one recognized his old acquaintance, and with an 'ugh!" and making a high step, he passed on. The second laughed, saying, Me know you!" and walked round. The last one drew his tomahawk and dashed it to pieces, saying, “Ugh!" you conquer me, now I conquer you."

A Wisconsin clergyman preached on the sin of attending to money matters on Sunday, and when the deacon passed the contribution plate not a person would put a cent in it.