over the canoe, and for knowing too much, and leading you round and round in the snow-but I meant well; forgive me! I acknowledge freely that I have had hard feelings against Mr. Ballou for abusing me and calling me a logarythm, which is a thing I do not know what, but no doubt a thing considered disgraceful and unbecoming in America, and it has scarcely been out of my mind, and has hurt me a great deal—but let it go; I forgive Mr. Ballou with all my heart, and-"

Poor Ollendorff broke down, and the tears came. He was not alone, for I was crying too, and so was Mr. Ballou. Ollendorff got his voice again, and forgave me for things I had done and said. Then he got out his bottle of whisky, and said that whether he lived or died he would never touch another drop. He said he had given up all hope of life, and although ill-prepared, was ready to submit humbly to his fate; that he wished he could be spared a little longer, not for any selfish reason, but to make a thorough reform in his character, and by devoting himself to helping the poor, nursing the sick, and pleading with the people to guard themselves against the evils of intemperance, make his life a beneficent example to the young, and lay it down at last with the precious reflection that it had not been lived in vain. He ended by saying that his reform should begin at this moment, even here in the presence of death, since no longer time was to be vouchsafed wherein to prosecute it to men's help and benefit -and with that he threw away the bottle of whisky.

Mr. Ballou made remarks of similar purport, and began the reform he could not live to continue, by throwing away the ancient pack of cards that had solaced our captivity during the flood and made it bearable. He said he never gambled, but still was satisfied that the meddling with cards in any way was immoral and injurious, and no man could be wholly pure and blemishless without eschewing them. "And therefore," continued he, “in doing this act, I already feel more in sympathy with that spiritual saturnalia necessary to entire and obsolete reform." These rolling syllables touched him as no intelligible eloquence could have done, and the old man sobbed with a mournfulness not unmingled with satisfaction.

My own remarks were of the same tenor as those of my comrades, and I know that the feelings that prompted them were heartfelt and sincere. We were all sincere, and all deeply moved

and earnest, for we were in the presence of death and without hope. I threw away my pipe, and in doing it felt that at last I was free of a hated vice, and one that had ridden me like a tyrant all my days. While I yet talked, the thought of the good I might have done in the world, and the still greater good I might now do, with these new incentives and higher and better aims to guide me, if I could only be spared a few years longer, overcame me, and the tears came again. We put our arms about each other's necks and awaited the warning drowsiness that precedes death by freezing.

It came stealing over us presently, and then we bade each other a last faréwell. A delicious dreaminess wrought its web about my yielding senses, while the snow-flakes wove a windingsheet about my conquered body. Oblivion came.

of life was done.

The battle

I do not know how long I was in a state of forgetfulness, but it seemed an age. A vague consciousness grew upon me by degrees, and then came a gathering anguish of pain in my limbs and through all my body. I shuddered. The thought flitted through my brain, "This is death-this is the hereafter."

Then came a white upheaval at my side, and a voice said with bitterness:

"Will some gentleman be so good as to kick me behind?” It was Ballou at least it was a towzled snow image in a sitting posture, with Ballou's voice.

I rose up, and there in the gray dawn, not fifteen steps from us, were the frame buildings of a stage station, and under a shed stood our still saddled and bridled horses !

An arched snow-drift broke up, now, and Ollendorff emerged from it, and the three of us sat and stared at the houses without speaking a word. We really had nothing to say. We were like the profane man who could not "do the subject justice;" the whole situation was so painfully ridiculous and humiliating that words were tame, and we did not know where to commence, anyhow.

The joy in our hearts at our deliverance was poisoned; wellnigh dissipated, indeed. We presently began to grow pettish by degrees, and sullen; and then, angry at each other, angry at ourselves, angry at everything in general, we moodily dusted the snow from our clothing and in unsociable single file plowed our

way to the horses, unsaddled them, and sought shelter in the station.

I have scarcely exaggerated a detail of this curious and absurd adventure. It occurred almost exactly as I have stated it. We actually went into camp in a snow-drift in a desert, at midnight, in a storm, forlorn and hopeless, within fifteen steps of a comfortable inn.

For two hours we sat apart in the station and ruminated in disgust. The mystery was gone now, and it was plain enough why the horses had deserted us. Without a doubt, they were under that shed a quarter of a minute after they had left us, and they must have overheard and enjoyed all our confessions and lamentations.

After breakfast we felt better, and the zest of life soon came back. The world looked bright again, and existence was as dear to us as ever. Presently an uneasiness came over me-grew upon me-assailed me without ceasing. Alas, my regeneration was not complete-I wanted to smoke! I resisted with all my strength, but the flesh was weak. I wandered away alone, and wrestled with myself an hour. I recalled my promise of reform, and preached to myself persuasively, upbraidingly, exhaustively. But it was all in vain. I shortly found myself sneaking among the snow-drifts hunting for my pipe. I discovered it after a considerable search, and crept away to hide myself and enjoy it. I remained behind the barn a good while, asking myself how I would feel if my braver, stronger, truer comrades should catch me in my degradation. At last I lit the pipe, and no human being can feel meaner and baser than I did then. I was ashamed of being in my own pitiful company. Still dreading discovery, I felt that perhaps the further side of the barn would be somewhat safer, and so I turned the corner. As I turned the one corner, smoking, Ollendorff turned the other with his bottle to his lips, and between us sat unconscious Ballou deep in a game of "solitaire" with the old greasy cards!

NEVER take the Bull bi the horns, Young Man, but take him Di the tail, then yu kan let go when yu want to.

UNCLE JOSHUA DOWNING IN BOSTON.

LETTER FROM JOSHUA DOWNING, IN BOSTON, TO HIS NEPHEW, JACK DOWNING, IN PORTLAND.

BY SEBA SMITH.

DEAR NEPHEW-I guess you won't be a little struck up when you find out that I'm in Boston-but I had best begin at the beginning, and then I shall get thro' quicker.

After seeing your letter to Ephraim, as I said before, I concluded it wouldn't be a bad scheme to tackle up and take a load of turkies, some apple-sauce, and other notions that the neighbors wanted to get to market, and as your uncle Nat would be in Boston with the ax-handles, we all thought best to try our luck there. Nothing happened worth mentioning on the road, nor till next morning, after I got here and put up in Elm Street. I then got off my watch pretty curiously, as you shall be informed. was down in the bar-room, and tho't it well enough to look pretty considerable smart, and now and then compared my watch with the clock in the bar, and found it as near right as ever it was— when a feller stept up to me and ask'd how I'd trade? and says I, for what? and says he, for your watch-and says I, any way that will be a fair shake-upon that says he, I'll give you my watch and five dollars. Says I, it's done! He gave me the five dollars, and I gave him my watch. Now, says I, give me your watch-and, says he, with a loud laugh, I ha'n't got none-and that kind a turn'd the laugh on me. Thinks I, let them laugh that lose. Soon as the laugh was over, the feller thought he'd try the watch to his ear-why, says he, it don't go-no, says I, not without it's carried-then I began to laugh—he tried to open it, and couldn't start it a hair, and broke his thumb-nail into the bargain. Won't she open? says he. Not's I know on, says I— and then the laugh seemed to take another turn.

Don't you think I got off the old Brittania pretty well, considrin'? And then I thought I'd go and see about my load of turkies and other notions. I expected to have gone all over town to sell my load, but Mr. Doolittle told me if I'd go down to the new market, I should find folks enough to buy all I had at once.

So down I goes, and a likely kind of a feller, with an eye like a hawk and quick as a steel-trap for a trade (they called him a 4th staller), came up to the wagon, and before you could say Jack Robinson, we struck a bargain for the whole cargo--and come to weigh and reckon up, I found I should get as much as 10s. 6d. more than any of us calculated before I left home, and had the apple-sauce left, besides. So I thought I'd jist see how this 4th staller worked his card, to be able to give us so good a price for the turkies, and I went inside the market-house, and a grander sight I never expect to see? But it was the 3d staller instead of the 4th had my turkies all sorted and hung up, and looking so much better that I hardly should known 'em. Pretty soon, a gentleman asked the 3d staller what he asked for turkies? Why, says he, if you want something better than you ever saw before, there's some 't was killed last night, purpose for you. You may take 'em at 9d, being it's you. I'll give you 12 cents, said the gentleman, as I've got some of the General Court to dine with me, and must treat well. I sha'n't stand for half a cent with an old customer, says he. And so they traded; and in about the space of half an hour or more, all my turkies went into baskets at that rate. The 4th staller gave me 6d. pound, and I began to think I'd been a little too much in a hurry for trade-but's no use to cry for spilt milk. Then I went up to the State House, to see what was going on there; but I thought I'd get off my apple-sauce on my way-and seeing a sign of old clothes bartered, I stepped in and made a trade, and got a whole suit of superfine black broadcloth from top to toe, for a firkin of applesauce (which didn't cost much, I guess, at home).

Accordingly, I rigged myself up in the new suit, and you'd hardly known me. I didn't like the set of the shoulders, they were so dreadful puckery; but the man said that was all right. I guess he'll find the apple-sauce full as puckery when he gets down into it--but that's between ourselves. Well, when I got up to the State House I found them to work at the rail road-busy enough, I can tell you they got a part of it made already. I found most all the folks kept their hats on, except the man who was talking out loud and the man he was talking to-all the rest seemed to be busy about their own consarns. As I didn't see anybody to talk to, I kept my hat on and took a seat, and look'd round to see what was going on. I hadn't been setting long