THE PONY-RIDER'S MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

THERE was an excited crowd gathered about | Did man ever risk life in a better cause? Onward the Pony Express Station at McPherson's. The swept the little horse, her flying heels throwing western-bound rider had arrived with a bullet in up a cloud of dust which hovered in the air for his leg, and reported that the Pawnees were off hundreds of yards behind her. To the left of their reservation and were advancing on the settle- them glided the still waters of the Platte, and on ment. He had met them between the last station the right stretched the boundless green of the and McPherson's, and they had given chase. prairie. The rider sat firm as a rock, his dauntless McPherson's could boast of but seventy-five souls face looking straight ahead and wearing an air at that time, before the railroad came, and there which seemed to say it was all for the sake of were but forty men capable of defending the place. Nelly Johnson. Whatever was to be done had to be done quickly. Fort Grattan was eighty miles northwest, and a rider was despatched in haste. Fort Kearney was seventy miles southeast, and who would summon aid from there? It was a dangerous undertaking. The route lay right through the hostile country, and the messenger would be almost sure to meet the Indians. The pony-riders, as a general thing, were fearless men, but this proposition was fraught with so much danger that they were loth to undertake it.

You may talk of the Mamelukes, the Tartar horsemen, the savage Bedouins and all the wild riders, but what are they to compare with our American pony-riders-men, who were fearless, and braved every danger; who ran the risk of life in every mile they dashed over; men who were expected to do fifty miles at top speed in daylight or dark, rain or shine, hot or cold? But the railroad has done away with the pony-rider, and we hear no more of such exploits as that of the renowned Jimmy Moore.

"Ef Slade was only here!" cried an old man, Onward swept the brave little horse, and at last "ther'd be no hesitation while wimen an' children the station came in view. A minute more and horse were in danger!" and rider were at the door. No relay was there to "I'll go!" and a bright-eyed, fearless-looking meet them. Not a sign of life was to be seen, but young fellow stepped forth.

at you.

"Good!" said the old man, pressing his hand; "old Jim Johnson sez so! Old Jim Johnson! You hear me! There's more sense in Essex's cazeba than the hull lot of you. Pick your hoss, boy, and ride for your life. See, there's Nelly lookin' For her sake, Willy, ef no one's else. Thirty-five helpless wimen an' children; think of it! Ride your best, an' when you git to the station you may git a relief. Post 'em there, and when you git to the fort tell the commandant to send on some cavalry as soon as possible. Fetch the sojers, an' we'll send the reds to Californy! Nelly Johnson's yourn as soon as you git back. Good-by, boy, an' God speed ye."

There was a spring, a rush of hoofs, and the ride to Kearney had begun. Right gallantly the horse sprang away at his rider's bidding, and the eyes of sweet Nelly Johnson kept upon them until horse and rider faded away upon the horizon.

Love was one incentive for the pony-rider's mission, and the desire to save the people of McPherson's from a bloody death was the other.

MU

there were hoof tracks on the ground in every direction, showing that the relief had fled. Giving the horse a drink, the rider mounted, and again they were on the way to Kearney. Further on they came upon a large object in the centre of the trail. It was the western-bound stage with horses gone, the driver between the fore-wheels with a bullet in his head, the passengers lying about the road, and the conductor in the boot, wounded unto death. One horrified look, a pause, and faster fled the horse. Mile after mile is left behind, station after station is passed, and no relief. Will they ever get to Kearney?

On the prairie to the right of them appear a host of mounted men. They are the pets of the Peace Commission, on their annual maraud. Turning with a triumphant yell they speed to head the rider off. Narrower grows the space between them, and the gallant horse redoubles his exertions. In the van of the savages rides a tall chief, mounted upon a powerful horse, his plumes streaming in the wind as he urges the noble animal he bestrides. Young Essex can escape if he turns back. But

no! The sweet face of Nelly Johnson and the shrinking forms of defenceless little ones come before his view, and dashing the perspiration from his brow, the pursued dashes onward. But a few miles more and succor is at hand!

savages turned and set out rapidly up the trail, while the fainting rider checks the faltering steps of his dying horse. One last, last look at the waving sea of green, and they enter the gates thrown open to receive them.

In the centre of the parade stands a group of men about a horse and rider. The horse is down now, and from his nostrils gushes the life-current, and beside him lies the rider.

Young Essex raised his head from the arm which supported it, and said:

Nearer come the pursuers. Now ride, young Essex, for it is three-score lives to one! Speed, brave little horse; strain muscle and nerve and heart, for your work will be well done! Ride, young Essex, for everything is at stake. Onward rushed the horse, the hoofs beating time to the short, quick breaths. The gap closes! Twang! A sharp pain in the side, and the rider reeled in the saddle, but for an instant only. Bending low to-Nelly-Johnson-❞ in the saddle, the whip is raised for the first time, and faster fled the horse.

And now the green ramparts and stockaded gates of Fort Kearney came in view. The baffled

"Pawnees off their reservation. McPherson's station's cleaned out-help-quick? My love to

And, grasping the reins with stiffening clutch, the barbed shaft eating out his soul, he sank upon the pony's neck.

Their brave hearts had ceased to beat.

ARCHITECTURAL PROGRESS, AS SEEN IN THE RELIGIOUS EDIFICES OF THE WORLD.

BY REV. WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, D.D., LL.D.

1. INTRODUCTORY.-PYRAMIDS AND TEMPLES OF EGYPT.

IN a rude state of society the builder merely | place to place, and hence he was obliged wheraims at providing for the necessary wants of man- ever he sojourned

hand

to have his habitation at wherever his flocks could find pasture. A tent thus became the house of the nomad shepherd.. When the cultivation of the soil became a main

CHINESE PAVILION.

kind. The varieties of climate, the suddenness and the range of atmospheric changes, together with the delicacy of the human organization become factors in determining the course of the primitive laborer, who aims at little more than furnishing a shelter from the vicissitudes of the seasons. Nevertheless, it is a fact that in all countries where progress has been made in building, and where architecture has reached the condition of a science, it will be found that traces of the earliest structural forms continue to appear on the more elaborate edifices which the taste and wealth of progressive ages may erect. In a primitive state where men relied for their existence on the produce of the chase, or on supplies that might

source of support,

the fixed habits
of the agricul-

turist necessarily PORTAL OF AN EGYPTIAN TEMPLE. led to the erec

tion of a permanent home, and thus the rude hut had its origin.

It would not be correct, however, to say that in all ages and lands the prevailing types of build

be secured from rivers, the shelter of a cavern or | ings proceeded from the influence of one cause the rudest covering would minister to their wants. A pastoral life obliged the shepherd to roam from

merely; as different agencies combined to produce the forms of edifices which prevailed in various

countries. Nevertheless it is true that different age to age. Thus the wandering Mongol had his types or styles soon became established in different regions, and these forms continued to appear from

tent as he followed or guided his flock, and hence to the present day the Chinese house is really a