Year: 1876

We can be but partially acquainted with
the events which actually influence our
course through life and our final destiny.
There are innumerable other events-if
such they may be called-which come
close upon us, yet pass away without ac.
tual results, or even betraving their near
approach by the reflection of any light or
shadow across our minds. Could we
know all the vicissitudes Of our fortunes,
life would be too full of hope and fear,
exultation or disappointment, to afford US
a single hour of true serenity. This idea
may be illustrated by page from the Sc
cret history of David Swan.


We have nothing to do with David un-
til we find him, at the age of twenty, on
the high-road from his native place to the
city OF Boston, where his uncle, small
dealer in the grocery line, was to take
him behind the counter. Be it enough to
say, that he was native of New Hamp-
shire, born of respectable parents, and
had received an ordinary school education,
with Q classic finish by year at Gilman
ton Academy. After a journey on foot
from sunrise till nearly noon of sum-
mers day, his WEAKNESS and the increas-
ing heat determined him to sit down in
the first convenient shade, and wait the
coming up of the stage coach. AS if
planted on purpose for him. there soon ap-
peared littletuft of naples. with delight.
ful recess in the midst, and such fresh bub-
bling spring, that it seemed never to have
sparkled for any wayfarer but David
Swan. Virgin or not, he kissed it with
his thirsty lips, and then flung himself
along the brink, pllowing his head upon
some shirts and a pair of pantaloons, tied
up in striped cotton handkerchief. The
sunbeams could not reach him; the dust
did not yet rise from the road, after the
heavy rain of yesterday; and his grassy
lair suited the young man better than a
bed of down. The spring murmured
drowsily beside him; the branches waved
dreamily across the blue sky overhead;
and a deep sleep, perchance hiding dreams
within its depths, fell upon David Swan.
But we are TO relate events he did not
dream of.


While he lay sound asleep in the shade,
other people were wide awake, and passed
to and fro. afoot. on horseback, and in all
sort of vehicles. along the sunny road by
his bedchamber. Some looked neither to
the right hand nor to the left, and knew
not that he was there; some merely
glanced that way, without admitting the
s.umberer among their busy thoughts:
some laughed to see how soundly he slept;
and several, whose hearts were brimming
full OF scorn, elected their venomous su-
periluity on David Swan. A middle-aged
widow, when nobody else was near,
thrust her head little way into the re.
cess, and vowed that the young fellow
looked charming in his sleep. A temper
ance lecturer saw him, and wrought poor
David into the texture of his evenings
discourse, as an awful instance of dead
drunkenness by the roadside. But CEN
sure, praise, merriment, scOrn and indif-
ference were all one, or rather all nothing
to David Swan.


lie had slept only a few moments, when
a brown carriage drawn by handsome
pair of horses, bowled easily along. and
was brought to stand-stll nearly in front
of David 5 resting-place. A Inch pin had
fallen out. and permitted one of the wheels
to slide off. The damage was slight. and
occasioned merely momentary alarm to
an elderly merchant and his wife. who
were returning to Boston in the carriage.


While the coachman and a servant were
replacing the wheel, the lady and gentle
man sheltered themselves beneath the
maple trees. and there espied the bubbling
fountain, and David Swan asleep beside it.
Impressed with the awe the humbest
sleeper sheds around, the merchant trod
as lightly as the gout would allow and
his spouse took good heed not to rustic her
silk gown, lest David should start up all
of sudden.


"How soundly he sleeps ~ whispered
the old gentleman. From what depth
he draws that easy breath! Such sleep as
that, brought on without opiate, would be
worth more to me than half my income;
for it would suppose health and an un-
troubled mind"


'And youth besides." said the lady.
Healthy and quiet age does not sleep
thus. Our slumber is no more like his
than our wakefulness.


The longer they looked. the more did
this elderly couple feel interested in this
unknown youth, to whom the wayside and
the maple shade were as a secret chamber
with the rich gloom of damask curtains
broodng over him. Perceiving that a
stray sunbeam glimmered down upon his
face. the lady contrived to twist branch
aside. so as to intercept it. And having
done this little act of kindness, she began
to feel like mother to him.


"Providence seems to have laid him
here whispered she to her husband, "and
to have brought us hither to find him after
our disappointment in our cousins son.
Methinks can see likeness to our de-
parted Henry. Shall we wake him?"


Ito what purpose p said the merchant,
hesitating, 1--WE know nothing of the
youths character


THAT open countenance !" replied his
wife, in the same hushed voice, yet ear
nestly. "This innocent sleepm


While these whispers were passing, the
sleeper's heart did not throb nor his breath
become agitated, nor his features betray
the least token of interest. Yet fortune
was bending over him. Just ready to let
fall burden of good. The old merchant
had lost his only son, and had no heir to
his wealth. except distant relative. with
whose conduct he was dissatisfied. In
such cases people sometimes do stranger
THINGS than To act the MAGICIAN and awak.