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THE MOTHER SUBDUED AT LAST.

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love. Yet I cast it from me, poor blinded fool that I was! how can the priceless gift, e'er be recalled?"

"Please, ma'am," interrupted the nurse, putting her head in at the door, "shan't I come and take your place? I'm afraid the young man is talking too much; the doctor said he must be quiet, you know."

"You're right, nurse," Mrs. Everson replied. "Yes, you may come now. 'Tis better so, my son," she added in a low voice, as Walter remonstrated; "too much agitation might be attended with serious consequences, and you have something to live for now, you know." There was a sad, half-reproachful smile on her face as she said this, which caused Walter to exclaim, as he grasped her hand:

"If I live, it will be to bless my generous, noblehearted mother. Do not leave me yet-not at least till you have said when I may see her."

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"That I can not do, for I know not where she is; but comfort yourself with this assurance, my sonwherever she may be I will seek her, and so plead your cause that your heart's desire shall be gained and Nellie restored to you."

With a wild cry of delight, Walter stretched forth his arms, as if to clasp the loved one already to his heart.

"You must excuse me, ma'am, but this 'll never do,” said the nurse decidedly, laying the sick man's head back upon the pillow and covering it with wet band

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"brain-fevers have to be carefully managed, especially when folks are subject to 'em, as he is."

"Never mind these, nurse," cried Walter, tearing off the bandages in his transport; "one sight of her dear face will do more for me than all things else. O Nellie! Nellie! monster that I was, to turn from thee in thy hour of need, shall I indeed receive thy forgiveness and be restored to happiness and thee?"

"You'll just please to take these drops, Mister Everson; I must do my duty, whether you do yours or not. It's no use your worrying so about that gal; if you're to have her, you will, and if you an't, you won't, do what you will. So now make yourself easy and quiet a bit, or you'll just be sure of never seeing her."

Walter swallowed the opiate she held to his lips, with a smile at the woman's logic, and soon sank into a deep, refreshing slumber.

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HOME again! once more beneath the humble roof ich had sheltered so many years of her eventful life; rounded, not as of old, by the grim and ghastly ecters of her own creation, but by such simple comts as willing, loving hands could minister, Esther am breathed again the longed-for fresh mountain air -looked forth again, from the low window by her bed, on the wild scenery in which she had so often reved. The same voices spoke from out the mountain rest, the same winds sighed and moaned around her velling as in years agone she had listened to their ghtly wail; yet how changed their meaning to her ar! Then their wild, discordant notes told of misery nd woe, of burning hatred, dark revenge, resistless

fute; then, ofttimes, reason tottered on its throne, giving unearthly hue and shape to nature's simplest forms-hearing in each passing breeze some familiar spirit's call. Now, in the glorious light revealed within her soul, one voice, one spirit, pervaded earth and air; 'twas the voice of love, the spirit of peace breathing heavenly music upon her enraptured senses. No more the hardened skeptic, the bitter scoffer, the world-hater, but a simple, believing child of God, waiting, in trusting faith, her loving summons home.

Who could recognize in her pale, worn face, with its subdued, chastened expression, or in the patient, gentle manner with which she bore her sufferings, thé gaunt, repulsive fortune-teller, with her croaking voice and sneering words, as first we saw her within that hut! And the wretched hovel, too, through whose door we shudderingly crept, has been transformed into a neat, cheerful, though still lowly abode. The snowy curtains, the bed of unrivaled whiteness, the nicely scoured and sanded floors, were the work of Molly's hands-Molly, the faithful wife of our old friend John, whose vituperations against the "old witch" all ended at last in a devoted attachment and inseparable service. It was his hand which had trained the creeping vines around the sides and up the roof of the little hut, till it looked like some rustic bower covered with fragrant, blushing flowers. He, too, was it whose true artistic taste had laid out the thrifty garden with its narrow border of bright blossoms. But not all Molly's industry or John's zeal

A STRANGE VISITOR.

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could have served to throw around the humble dwelling such an air of refinement and taste as pervaded every nook. Exquisitely arranged bouquets of wild mountain flowers, with petals dripping in all the freshness of the mountain dew, were each day placed by gentle, tender hands around the sick one's couch; delicate ministrations, such alone as watchful love could give, made soft the bed of suffering and disease. To Nellie was it given thus to make the rude home of her childhood a happy, peaceful resting-place at last thus to smooth and beguile, with filial love and tender care, the dark, drear passage to the grave.

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'Twas a bright, glowing June day. Delicious breezes, laden with the perfume of innumerable flowers, swept through the mountain forest, around the rocks, and into every penetrable glade and dell. Softly they stole through the open window of the little solitary home and played with the silver locks or fanned the pallid brow of one who was wont to hail their coming with delight.

With a languid smile the sick one raised her head. "Blessed breath of heaven," she murmured, "what message do ye bring from that bright land? Soon, on your wings, my soul shall mount to its abode. 0 happy hour! my waiting spirit longs for its approach." "Mrs. Cram," said Molly, opening the door, "there's a lady here as wishes to see ye. Shall I ask her in ?" Supposing it to be some one from the village below

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