Year: 1875

Hall-ueFl, tuey say
But your angel and devil seem to
share their lodging on the most Gu
rious terms Of mutual forbearance
They seem to take you turn and
turn about, in watches, as il were
Your angel never torments your
devil, or interferes with his mode oil
enjoying himself, in his Walpurgis
night with his man; and your
devil with equal politeness, never
intrudes himself on the angelic
prayer meetings. They could not
possibly come in contact without
disturbing the harmony of the sys-
tenn but they seem to agree to
differ, like certain polite married
couples"


Urquehart took his pipe from
his mouth, and blew out a long
smoke wreath. Then he leaned
head and shoulders out of the
window, and stared far away al
the sun, now like a clot Of blood
in the livid horizon, till even that
crimson speck was absorbed. Then
he brought himself back to bis
former position in corner of the
rickety old sofa, and from that
dusky corner spake.


"You hooked a fine fat fish there,
my young friend, with your moral.
critical line. Your sagacity really
deserves patting for having snapp-
ed up such o good head of game
Still you don't know how the devil
got into me how should you 7 He
had hardly set claw on your friend
when we were boys together, and
l rather the better boy of the two"


"You may well say that old fel-
low! At that time land what o
little time ago it is after all j you
really seemed incapable Of evil, or
even of comprehending it. You
trusted verybody implicitly, be-
cause you yourself were -"


can ass" roared Urquehart.
"And now listen" g..


So as the night fell, and "the
easement slowly grew a glimmer-
ing square" in the blackness, Ur-
quehart's tale was told.


Fourteen months ago, I was
lodging for the summer in a farm
house in a village, no matter where.
The only house there belonging to
gentlefolks, except the wretched
old parsonage, was Squire Ring
woods. 1t was big stupid look
ing mansion, on a hill, staring down
overbearingly at the poor rene-
ments huddled together below
and the burly Squire himself was
for all the world like his house, as
he sat on his tall horse, and looked
down pompously over his vast
waistcoat at o frightened crew Of
village children. The Squire had
an ugly sickly wife and daughter,
and they had an humble companion
that was an angel of beauty. /
fell in love with her at church. Oh,
the little church in the west coup-
trie, hid in the bowery orchard
hollow! Oh, the sudden delicious
gusts that Uttered the graves with
blossoms Your mothers grave,
Charley has the dear woman the
violets planted there! /! or did
they die like the faith and hope she
set in me I Ifell in love with Fan
ny Vale before / knew her name |;
I learned from the farmhouse folks
with whom / lodged. They told
me moreover, that she was young
widow, and still in weeds when she
came to lodge very humbly in the
village six months before; that the
wife and daughter had taken fan
cy to her, and adopted her into
their family, as a kind Of reader
and companion Of all work. | made
her acquaintance by a note which
threw at her feet the first time
I spied her walking alone. l need
not swear to you that never had
an evil wish or thought about her,
To me a woman was holy thing,
desecrated by no lowness OF con.
dition, deserving of any gentle.
mans love aud reverance, IL en-
dowed with certain qualities
These qualities I now took on
trust, and, being enchanted by her
beauty, saw also the perfection ol
moral loveliness in her face. Such
an angelic face, Charles! There
she sat in the Squire's pew, beside