was only a sudden blaze, and it died out as soon as Humphrey left her. the earliest part of the night watch; Dorothy sat and dozed quite placidly all the rest of the time. Mrs. Chichester would be waiting for her now, she thought, with a touch of compunction at her idleness. Stewart came in to close the shutters as she rose wearily from her chair. "It is going "They will reason me even out of this, if I listen to them. Why will they not leave me alone to believe what I like?" she said to herself, with a sudden spasm of doubt and misery. "Oh, Kelpie, do you really think your master is dead—to be a wild night, miss," he said, as Dym stood really, really dead!" But, though the sagacious animal licked her hand in the same reassuring manner as before, she was not comforted. Dym suddenly felt with a great terror that her hope was slipping from her. She had spoken bravely, but why did her heart all at once fail her? Was it that the suspense was becoming unbearable even to her? She had told Humphrey she would never believe he was dead; that it would be a lie on her lips if she said it to his mother. Why did her conscience accuse her of falseness? Had she meant what she said? Had she been utterly true? Had not her wish blinded her when she had so spoken? Dym felt as though she were collapsing too; a sudden paralysis of fear was on her; her faith had received a shock in reality; the poor thing was weary and spent with nursing; fatigue and depression were wearing out her hopefulness. The body is often to blame for these moods. When Dym sat down with a little shiver and asked herself if she believed this thing or the other, she wanted to sleep away her fears. It would have been a wonder if she had not been tired; she was too young and weak for such a responsibility; the strain of it was almost wearing her out. Mrs. Chichester could hardly bear her to be out of the room. Dyni schooled herself into brightness whenever she came near her friend. The poor invalid, in her blindness and helplessness, grew more dependent on her young companion every day. Dym's sweet voice never sounded tired in the sick-room; her light step-how it flagged when it crossed the threshold !-was like music to the ears that had grown to listen for it night and day; the soft touches that had once proved so soothing to Guy Chichester were never weary of manipulating the hot brow. Dym kept untiring vigils in the sick-room; she denied herself needful rest, trying to beguile the tedium of those long nights. Mrs. Chichester never slept till dawn; for some hours she was always wakeful and restless. Dym had grown into the habit of taking for a moment looking out at the black rain-clouds that were scudding across the sky. The wind was driving along the terrace and whistling fiercely among the gable-ends; the elms were creaking and straining their mighty limbs like angry giants; in the kitchen garden there was a flapping of bare boughs; that night the Nid was swollen, and lashed its banks with white froth. Later on the flood-gates of heaven seemed open, and a driving rain and mist filled the valley; a hollow moaning reverberated among the hills and echoed mournfully through the dim woods. Dym shivered as she passed the conservatory door, for it reminded her of that evening, more than three years ago, when Humphrey, with pale face and dripping clothes, stood in that very place and told her Honor was dead. Dym found Florence curled up among her grandmother's pillows when she entered the sick-room; the little maid had stolen across the corridor with her little white night-gown and bare rosy feet, and now sat open-eyed and solemn, looking like a bright-eyed fairy perched at Mrs. Chichester's ear. "Oh, Flossie, how 'naughty!" Florence shook back the fair hair from her face, and argued the matter. "Flo is not naughty; Flo's good." "I am afraid not, my darling," and Dym finished her rebuke with a shower of kisses. "There, say good-night to grannie." "Florence has been saying such dreadful things," said Mrs. Chichester, gathering the child fondly in her weak arms; "she has been making poor grandmamma so unhappy. She tells me she won't love papa any longer." "Oh, Flo, for shame!” "I think he is a naughty papa to stop away all this time," affirmed Flo, confidently. "I don't think he is good, like grannie and mamma and auntie. I like auntie best," she whispered, as Dym carried her away. Dym, gravely kissing the little face before she left it, felt to-night as though the child's words had stricken her to the heart. Even Flossie was tired of waiting. "I think I feel more restless than ever, tonight," sighed Mrs. Chichester, as Dym sat down beside her. "Oh, that wind!" "It is a rough lullaby, certainly," returned Dym, cheerfully, as she drew the heavy curtains closer, and looked to the fastening of the shutters, and then broke a blazing log into splinters. The white china tiles reflected the pleasant glow; the lamp burned brightly. Dym, as she read, stole a glance now and then at the white face lying on the pillow with blank open eyes, and thin hands fluttering aimlessly over the coverlet, and thought that, worn and faded as it had grown, it was beautiful still. In spite of her efforts, Dym's voice would take tired tones now and then; her nerves were in a state of tension to-night; her readit.g was purely mechanical. Through it all she seemed to hear the dripping of the rain on the terrace as the wind lulled. Long before the usual hour Mrs. Chichester sent her away, pretending she could sleep; and Dym, with some reluctance, gave up her post to Dorothy. It was her ordinary custom to go down and pat Kelpie and bid him good-night before she went to her room, and, however tired she was, she never omitted the custom; but to-night Kelpie was not stretched as usual on the black bear-skin in the library; he was whining restlessly at the foot of the stairs, as though he were weary of waiting for his young mistress. Dym stooped down and caressed him; but, though he licked her hand gratefully, he continued visibly uneasy, and trembled in every limb. "Why, Kelpie, old fellow, what ails you? I suppose the wind is making you nervous too. One o'clock, and the storm shows no sign of lulling," as the glass in the conservatory rattled and shook in its frame, and the hail beat fiercely on the terrace outside. "What an awful night!" she thought, glancing round the dimly-lighted hall rather fearfully. "Lie down, good dog," she said, soothingly. But Kelpie resisted every effort to coax him to his bear-skin; on the contrary, his restlessness increased; he whined, looked up in Dym's face, ran towards the door, and commenced sniffing under it, and then threw back his head with a low prolonged howl. The dog's behavior did not tend to reassure Dym; she knew the collie's sagacity was rarely at fault. For some reason or other he wanted her to open the door; perhaps some one was outside, most likely a tramp. Dym's imagination did not stretch to the idea of house-breakers; she had been too long an inhabitant of the happy valley for such a notion to enter her head; but still she was all alone. There might be two tramps, perhaps, or even gypsies; she did not feel in the least disposed to open the door. Again she attempted to coax Kelpie away; she even took hold of his collar and tried to drag him with her two hands, but it was no use; the dog only growled at her reproachfully, and broke into a dismal howl. In another moment he would arouse the house. "There can be no harm if I slip the chain and let him run through," she thought; "it is silly of me to be so frightened; perhaps, after all, it is only Sukey, or one of her pups strayed up from the keeper's lodge." But for all that she was nervous, and bungled sadly over the bolts. She had miscalculated the distance, however; the dog, with all his efforts, could not squeeze himself through the aperture, and his bark of disappointment drove Dym's fears to the wind in the terror lest Mrs. Chichester should be alarmed. "Oh, hush, hush!" she cried, dropping the chain in desperation; she thought she could close the door quickly after him, but she had forgotten the wind. Kelpie had scarcely vanished into the darkness before a wild gust blew the door out of her hand, and drove her backward, pelting her face and dress with hailstones, and nearly lifting her off her feet. All her strength could not have availed to close the heavy oak door; the servants slept far away, no one could hear her if she called; the lights were flaring, her hair and dress blew about wildly. All at once a low uncontrollable cry broke from her lips, and her knees trembled under her. And why? Because a warm human hand, groping in the darkness, suddenly touched hers; and a voice close by, speaking out of the storm and wind, said, "Don't be afraid. Kelpie knows me. Ι am Guy Chichester!" Two worthy farmers once fell out, I never knew just what about; Although in every neighbor's view, The cause was small for such ado. "I SEE THE POINT." By J. P. McCORD. One's sheep, perhaps, had passed their bounds, A word might soon have changed their mood; When now, from passion's burning height, The winds with speed dispersed the news; Nor could John Wiggins well refuse To stand defence. He thought, besides, Since law for just awards provides, That when the facts were known and bared For him must judgment be declared; While Jones should find, that in her school Dame Justice scourges every fool, With hopes like these, he spread his case Before a lawyer's gracious face. "It grieves me, sir," the man replied, "That I must take the other side; Had Jones not been before you here, With less regard to right and law "MUSINGS." BY THOMAS GEORGE LA MOILLE. NOTES AND QUERIES. AN esteemed correspondent furnishes us with a number of very interesting items, gathered from "The Book of Oddities," which was published in the last century; some of them will be found both quaint and curious: The Odd Family. In the reign of King William the Third, there lived at Ipswich, in Suffolk, a family, which from the number of peculiarities belonging to it, was distinguished by the name of the Odd Family. Every event, remarkably good or bad, happened to this family in an odd year, or on an odd day of the month, and every one of them had something odd in his or her person, manner and behavior. The very letters of their Christian names always happened to be of an odd number. The husband's name was Peter, and the wife's Rahab; they had seven children, all boys, viz.: Solomon, Roger, James, Matthew, Jonas, David, Ezekiel. The husband had but one leg, and his wife one arm. Solomon was born blind of his left eye, and Roger lost his right eye by accident; James had his left ear pulled off by a boy in a quarrel, and Matthew was born with only three fingers on his right hand. Jonas had a stump foot, and David was humpbacked; all these, except David, were remarkably short, and Ezekiel was six feet two inches high at the age of nineteen. The stump-foot Jonas and the humpback David got wives of fortune, but no girl would listen to the address of the rest. The husband's hair was as black as jet, and the wife's as remarkably white, yet every one of their children had red hair. The husband had the peculiar misfortune of falling into a deep saw-pit, where he was starved to death, in the year 1691, and the wife, refusing all kinds of sustenance, died in five days after him. In the year 1703, Ezekiel enlisted as a grenadier, and although he was afterwards wounded in twenty-three places, he recovered. Roger, James, Matthew, Jonas and David died at different places on the same day, in the year 1713, and Solomon and Ezekiel were drowned together in crossing the Thames in 1723. State Sovereignties becoming mere Corporations.— The following letter from Philadelphia, to parties in Boston, was written in February, 1791: public securities, and by all their creditors. As the execu tion will be against them as mere corporations, they will be issued against all the inhabitants generally; the Governor and all other citizens will be alike liable. Such offices will not be coveted; even the Constitutional privileges in the several States, against arresting Senators and Representatives, while the Courts are sitting, will be done away." The Continental Congress of 1784 Searching for a Place to Assemble.-The question having come up, in 1784, where Congress should reassemble when it adjourned, the delegates from Rhode Island informed Congress that the Legislature of that State, at the February session, passed the following resolutions: "Resolved, That the delegates of this State be, and they are hereby instructed to use their influence to obtain a recess of Congress as soon as the national business will possibly admit. "It is further voted that the delegates of this State request that honorable body to adjourn to convene at Rhode Island in the course of next year, or as soon as may be convenient; that Congress be informed, that if the aforesaid request shall be acceded to, this State will prepare suitable buildings for their accommodation. And therefore moved, "That on the 26th day of May next, the President adjourn this Congress until the 26th day of October next, then to meet at Newport, in the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, and if a sufficient number of members to form a house should not then meet, that all the business before this Congress unfinished at the time of said adjournment, be referred to the United States in Congress, who shall be assembled at said Newport, on the first Monday in November next." A motion was made and seconded, to strike out the words "then to meet at Newport, in the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations," and afterwards, "at said Newport;" and on the question, shall those words stand? it passed in the negative, and the words were struck out. A motion was then made and seconded, in lieu of the words struck out, to insert, "to meet at Philadelphia;" and on the question being put, it was decided in the negative. "The Supreme Court of the United States opened here last week. The Judges did not all attend. The only action entered was brought by a Foreigner, against the State of Maryland. The writ was served upon the GOVERNOR, the Supreme Executive of the State, and upon the Attorney General. Two months are given for the State to plead. Should this action be maintained, one great national question will be settled-that is, that the several States have relin, guished all their SOVEREIGNTIES, and have become mere corporations, upon the establishment of the General Govern ment. For a Sovereign State can never be coerced by the authority of another government. Should this point be supported, in favor of this cause against Maryland, each A motion was then made and seconded, in lieu of the State in the Union may be sued by the possessor of their words struck out, to insert "Alexandria," with no better MARYLAND AND VIRGINIA ASKED TO MAKE ADVANCES TOWARDS ERECTING BUILDINGS FOR THE RECEPTION OF CONGRESS.-A motion was then made and seconded, to postpone the further consideration of the motion under debate, in order to take up the following: "That the States of Maryland and Virginia be informed, that provided they will advance the United States pounds, for erecting the necessary buildings for the reception of Congress at or near Georgetown at the falls of Powtomack, it shall be allowed by them in the requisitions made on them for the year by the United States in Congress assembled," which motion was also decided in the negative. VOL. VIII.-30 success; when, finally, a motion to insert, in lieu of the words struck out, "to meet at Trenton, in the State of New Jersey, agreeable to their act of the 21st of October last," which was adopted. Pictures of Washington.-In a letter, under date of July 31, 1779, from Hon. William Vernon to his son, William H. Vernon, then in France, I find the following: "You will find a letter enclosed from Samuel King, who sends you ten miniature pictures of his Excellency General Washington, which he desires you will dispose of at three guineas apiece. I can't think they will sell for that price. He desires I would inform you to sell them for what they will fetch, and send him the proceeds in shirting linen, from one and eightpence to two and fourpence per English yard. You will employ some broker to sell them, as I don't suppose you will hawk about pictures. They are a good likeness, and not badly painted." The writer of the above letter, William Vernon, was one of the most active supporters of the Government at the time that it was organized, and he was untiring in his efforts to found a Navy. April 19, 1777, he was selected, in connection with James Warren and John Deshon, to form a Board of Assistants to the Marine Committee, and under instructions sent to them under the signature of John Hancock, they at once organized the Eastern Department of the Naval Board, and chose Mr. Vernon as their head. They were to establish themselves at or near to Boston, and it is well known how efficient they proved, and what good service they rendered the country. Vernon, the şon, on leaving college went to Europe under the patronage of John Adams, to make himself familiar with certain articles of manufacture and trade, preparatory to settling down in business in his own country. While absent (the year prior to the date of the above letter), his father sent him a copy of Peale's Washington, made by the above-named Samuel King, which he was at liberty to present to the King or to any one on whom he saw fit to bestow it. This picture was entrusted to the care of Lafay ette, and went out in the same frigate with him; the distinguished Frenchman having expressed to Mr. Vernon a desire to be bearer of a letter to his son. Young Vernon, during his absence, made a collection of pictures, which he brought to this country, and after his death they were scattered. An account of them has already been published. The miniatures sent to him by King were probably reduced copies of the copy of Peale's Washington, and it would be interesting to know what became of them. Samuel King was a painter of very ordinary ability; but he had the faculty of catching a likeness, and as this with many compensated for the want of other qualities, he was frequently called upon to paint the portraits of those who could afford to indulge their taste in this way. But the calls were by no means so pressing as to absorb his whole time, and as he was skilled in the manufacture of mathematical instruments, he combined the two callings, carrying them on together in a small shop on the principal street in Newport. It was while he was thus engaged that application was made to him to take two pupils, art students, who desired to learn at his hand the rudiments of drawing and painting. These two pupils were Edward G. Malbone of Newport and Washington Allston of South Carolina. Malbone was then but sixteen, and his fellow-student was still younger; and it is interesting to know that with such slight promptings as they could have had at the hand of their early teacher, they both rose to the highest position in the profession. Malbone's miniatures have never been excelled, if they have been equaled; and we all know in what high estimation the works of Allston are held. Allston lived to a ripe old age, gaining renown through all those years; but Malbone was cut off in early manhood. He was born in 1777, and died in 1807. His finest work, "The Hours," is now owned by the Providence Athenæum, and all who see it admit that it is as lovely in conception as it is beautiful in execution. GEORGE C. MASON. How to Make a Model Newspaper.-The literary and mechanical ingenuity displayed in the efforts to make a model newspaper are forcibly exemplified in the following from a correspondent, who says: "The enclosed enumerative stanzas describe, perhaps, an Utopian gazette. The attempt is made to exhaust what the writer believes should be the necessary features of a good newspaper. Great pains have been taken to make the piece absolutely rhymeless, and by way of uniqueness, to compel its conforming, without the shadow of an error, to the other ornamental requirements (twelve in all) of the prefatory note; at the same time, all the intended sense or meaning remains intact. It is convenient for the writer to send the stanzas in print, but this would of course be their first publication. If they be accepted, the Editor is requested to nowhere alter the language, as almost every word is inserted under one or other of the (twelve) working rules-not one of which rules should be broken on any account." DESCRIPTION OF A MODEL NEWSPAPER, Which paper should be owned and conducted by godly men, and sold at the lowest paying rate. [As will be seen, this piece of metrical prose is in 8-and-7 trochaics. The lines, however, contain several peculiarities, all but the first of which need to be pointed out. (1) Each stanza is without rhyme, and (2) no rhyme is found in any two contiguous stanzas taken as one. (3) In every stanza, the vowel or diphthongal sound in the last accented syllable of each line, and that in the final (unaccented) syllable of each of the first and third lines, are all different; (4) neither of the two final syllables of the first line of any stanza contains the same vowel or diphthongal sound as that in the terminal syllable of the last line of the preceding stanza; and (5) the same vowel or diphthongal sound does not occur in the last syllable of any two contiguous stanzas, nor (6) in the last syllable of the second line of any two such stanzas, nor (7), as already half stated (in 3), in the last syllable of the second line of any two contiguous pairs of lines, or halfstanzas. Moreover, no emphatic monosyllable is admitted where incompatible with the rhythm; no unemphatic monosyllable is employed in an accented place; no second or fourth line-all of which of course end on the accentterminates on a secondary emphatic syllable of a word; no |