answer to the smile on his lips and in his eyes, and thought how glad she would be if Mr. Marquis were like this. At that moment, Mrs. Cameron, who liked to be exact, began to inquire about Joaquin's name, whereupon he produced a card which was engraved with his initials instead of his first name, and presented it. The J. M. Marquin looked very innocent, very unlike the name which Beatrix had rendered Marquis, the Joaquin having been undecipherable altogether, for she had mistaken his Spanish J for a T. Mrs. Cameron, although too polite to ask many direct questions, evidently desired to know something of Joaquin's history. So he gratified her as far as possible without saying anything he had written to Beatrix, and the motherly woman lost her heart over him at once. He seemed such an innocent boy, she thought, and so he was; but if she had known his intentions concerning her daughter, and the wiles he had practiced to form her acquaintance, she would probably have ordered him out of her room upon the spot. But her mind was undisturbed by the slightest suspicion as she conversed with him, and Joaquin answered innocently, inwardly glorying over these same wiles; and Marie, a party to it all, hovered about the door like a guardian angel, with messages and other acts of solicitous servitude. This Joaquin was in the seventh heaven of delight. There was something so charming to him about this delightful secret. beautiful girl, as shy as she was sweet, had actually written him and thanked him for a careless kiss upon a card. She, who doled her gracious words out to him as cautiously as possible, had written that his letter had quite touched her heart. The words looked sweetly written, but if she would only utter them with her lips, some day, they would be sweeter still. From the moment he met her he was more in love than ever, and he set himself to the pleasing task of wooing her with as much cool calculation as his impetuous nature would admit. "I don't want to do anything rashly," he said to his wife. "I will watch the pair for a few days." So be hesitated, and was lost. A day or two later, Beatrix looked very grave, and remained in her room for some time, saying she had letters to write. Joaquin was wandering up and down the garden, when Marie beckoned him from the upper veranda. He went up, and she slyly slipped a letter into his hand, directed to Mr. Marquis, at his city address. hastened to his room to read it. He "Dear Sir," it began, "I write you because I promised, but I have nothing pleasant to tell you, only the fact that I regret having written you at all. Since I came here have given my heart elsewhere, and, though I have no reason to believe that my affection is returned, it is impossible, while I feel as I do now, to write to you. Forgive me if I have not been quite just to you, and please keep my secret by forgetting me." It was signed "Beatrix," simply, and when Joaquin had read it he behaved like a man insane. He kissed the letter over and over again; he laughed, he almost cried. 66 Madre à Dios!" he cried, "she loves me! she loves me! But, ah! what a coward I am to obtain the sweet confession in this heartless way! and yet, how could I know that she would write me like this? I must never tell her of this, or she would die of shame." Glancing without, he saw Marie demurely returning, as if from the postoffice, and Beatrix sitting under a tree in the garden, a book in her hand. To rush down was the work of a moment. Beatrix saw the look in his face, and her heart beat with foolish fear. "Are you alone?" he asked in his impetuous way. "I am so glad, because I want to tell you what I feel so strongly in my heart, yet cannot say well I love you! Beatrix started up in affright, and glanced apprehensively about her, feeling that all the people in the hotel must hear, her father included. He smiled. "Do you think the air has ears?" he said, “and that four close walls are more discreet? Why care, though the whole world hears? Forgive me," seeing she was agitated and frightened. "I am so fierce, and you are so gentle, but I love you, ah ! how I love you! Mrs. Cameron, who did not object to her daughter's carrying on a mild flirtation with so mild a subject, and especially when directly under her own eyes, at last awoke to the fact that Beatrix had lost her heart, and Mr. Marquin was playing the part of a devoted lover in all sincerity. She immediately wrote to her husband, and Mr. Cameron came in hot haste, for Beatrix was his last remaining daughter, and he was averse to giving her away at all, least of all to a foreigner. But his coming did not abash Joaquin, for, even if he had been naturally timid, the boy was too much in love to be other-ness, wise than brave, and, in spite of himself, Mr. Cameron was more pleased with the young man than he was willing to confess. He took her hand in his; they were so fair and white,- be gloried in their white and his own were so brown. In pity for her nervous fright, he drew her to a more secluded spot, and again began protesting that she was all the world to him. "Are you sure?" she managed to ask, at | last. "Sometimes," he said, "I think it is the only thing in the world of which I am sure. Was not my heart lonely and starved before I knew you? and now is it not light as any bird's? Does it not warm and beat at sight of your face, at sound of your voice, at touch of your hand, at very thought of you, even when absent? You are my only love, and I, my own master, have means to take care of the wife of my love as I desire. Will you be mine if your parents consent? and if I win your approval they surely must." So she gave him her answer, very earnestly and sobe ly, and it was scarcely breathed before she was folded in his impetuous embrace, and the tears which sprang to her eyes were quickly kissed away a proceeding so new to her, that she was all in a nervous flutter instead of being quieted as he intended she should be. He was so much in earnest himself his own eyes were a trifle humid, and, at length, as he drew his handkerchief from his pocket to brush across them, he drew out her letter also, and it fell at her feet, fluttering in the breeze until it attracted her attention. She recognized it at a glance, and her face flushed angrily as she caught it up. "How came you by this?" she cried. "You sent it to me," he answered, calming suddenly, through fear that her pride might be greater than her love. "No, dear, you must not destroy it," gently, but firmly, detaining her hand. "See." He kissed it as he regained it, put it back in his pocket, and drew forth the two others she had written. They brought me here," he said, all his proud assurance gone, "they, and the love borne of them in my heart for you. I found you out, and followed you. Surely you can forgive this, because it proves my great love for you." "I have nothing to forgive in you," she answered, trying to speak calmly and coldly, but trembling from head to foot. "But I can never forgive myself for having been so unmaidenly. Go: I can never look you in the face again!" Instead of walking into the house in a majestic manner, and consigning him to everlasting despair, as she should have done, and as she fully intended doing, she broke into a perfect storm of sobs, which frightened, while they encouraged him. "Do not cry!" he exclaimed; "ah, do not! It makes me feel like dying to see you so unhappy, and I the cause!" And then he began to caress her, applying, as a sort of interlude, all the disparaging adjectives to himself he could remember with out the aid of his dictionary, and the list being at last exhausted, he began addressing all the endearing ones he knew to her. Woman nature could not withstand this, so Beatrix not only allowed him to fold her in his arms once more, but laid her soft, pink cheek against his brown one, while he, again exultant, began, after the manner of men, to make all sorts of rosy promises for the fu ture, though, unlike some men, in his honest, boyish heart he meant them all. How long this would have continued it is impossible to say, if Mr. Cameron, missing his daughter, had not come down into the garden in search of her. Thanks to a squeaking pair of boots, the lovers were warned of his approach in time for Beatrix to escape by a side path to the house, while Joaquin turned and faced his hoped-for father-in-law, if not with composure, certainly without fear, and then and there asked boldiy for the hand of Beatrix in marriage. The old man choked a little, and for a moment did not speak; but in his heart he rather liked the young man's fearlessness, even though it took his breath away. Besides, he had grown somewhat interested in watching the pair, having found that Beatrix was nearly as much in love as Joaquin, so, after clearing his throat once or twice, he abruptly gave his consent. They all asembled in Mrs. Cameron's parlor directly after; that worthy woman herself glad Beatrix was not to be disappointed, and that there was to be no fuss, after all. Mr. Cameron seemed a trifle nervous; Joaquin's face so aglow with pleasure no one could help being glad for him; Beatrix, feeling as if she had done some dreadful thing, and all the world knew of it; and Marie, peeping in at the door, serene in Joaquin's hint that, if very devoted to Miss Beatrix, she would probably accompany them to France the following year, which she did. Truth compels me to state, however, that when they returned, two years later, Marie was not with them. She had planned a regular system of blackmail upon Joaquin, which did not work at all, as he informed her as soon as she began to make demands for money, that her mistress knew the whole story. This so disgusted her that she left them at once, saying she did not care to have anything to do with a couple whose marriage came about from a chance card. Beatrix and Joaquin were not overwhelmed with grief at her departure, and, since their marriage has proved very happy, they are not disposed to regret that so simple a thing as a card was the first cause of it. The stately portraits upon the walls A moment I stood in silent fear, The footstsps had a familiar sound, Swiftly I sprang up the winding stair, EDINA, KNOX COUNTY, MISSOURI, November, 1880. Reaching a window, I flung it wide, On the brink of a river broad and deep,· Its waveless surface no ripples stirred; Long, long I watched to see them return; "Ah me?" I cried, "they who cross this stream Will never come back again." Quickly I ran down the winding stair, So loud I called to the passing boats, THER GROWTH OF THE HAIR. HERE are three reasons why woman's | hair is longer than man's. First, she has no hair growth on her face, and so has a larger supply of hair-forming material for the scalp; second, the diameter of her hair being larger, it is less liable to break; third, being usually less engaged in mental labor or business worry, she has a more constant and even supply of blood to the scalp. In nations where the hair of the men is usually worn short, the fashion of long hair in the male is regarded as a protest against Church and State, and against general customs, taste and thought; in Austria it is made a political offence to be so attired. The growth of the hair is the most rapid in the young and middle aged, and in those living an out-door life. At the age of eighty if a man lives so long, and if his hair and beard have been closely trimmed, he has cut off six and a half inches of hair annually, or about thirty feet in all. The hair is the least destructible part of the body. The hair of the ancient Thebans is, after a lapse of four thousand years, found to have survived the tombs. The Pyramids and the Sphinx are crumbling, but some of the wigs of human hair, exposed to the mould and moisture of their entombed apartments, are less decayed than the monuments themselves. There are three coloring pigments to the hair, - yellow, red, and black; and all the shades are produced by the mixture of these colors. In pure gold yellow hair, there is only the yellow pigment; in red, the red mixed with yellow; in dark, the black mixed with red and yellow. In the hair of the negro there is as much red pigment as in the reddest hair, and had not the black been most developed perhaps by the action of the sun the hair of all negroes would be as fiery a red as the reddest hair of an Englishman. - Our Young People's Story-Teller. RAYMOND MORTIMER. A TALE OF LAND AND SEA ADVENTURE. BY GEORGE H. COOMER. [Entered according to Act of Congress, by Thomes & Talbot, Boston, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington.] CHAPTER XIII. SPORT IN EARNEST. AYMOND looked, and saw, about RAY Narske, walking leisurely through the grass, a large, spotted, cat-like animal, such as he had seen in menageries occupying the same cage with the leopards, and greatly resembling the latter, although a trifle larger, and less tawny. No second thought was needed to decide upon its name and character. It was the terrible jaguar, one of the fiercest and most powerful wild beasts of the western hemisphere, as merciless, though not as large, as the Bengal tiger, and sure to improve every opportunity of attacking human beings who invade his haunts. partially covered in their kneeling position, the animal caught sight of them, and, without an instant's hesitation, came leaping open-mouthed to the attack. Both hunters fired. The barrels first used had been load ed with ball, but those now discharged had only buck-shot, which, although they gave the jaguar fatal wounds, did not at once stop his onset. Heavily bounding, he came on, and the peril was apalling. They clubbed their guns, and were ready to grasp their stout huntingknives; but it would be a struggle of despair, and well they knew it. As the creature dashed forward, however, he seemed blinded. Striking a tree, he reeled aside, then recovered, and sprang toward his enemies, who avoided him by a quick movement. He passed them, whirled around, He had not yet discovered the two travel- and returned, apparently guided more by the ers or their horses; for the former lay sense of hearing than sight. For a few moamong tall grass behind the trunks of trees, ments there was a brisk game of hide-andand the latter were tied in a small hollow, seek between the tree-trunks; then the jagso that they could not be seen by the jaguar,uar fell gasping, and was dead almost inwhich was just then in another depression; the rising ground occupied by Charles and Raymond intervening. Never was there a fairer shot, the side of the unsuspecting animal being fully exposed as he passed. Charles, resting his elbow on the ground, laid his face to his gun, and Raymond did the same. Both pieces were discharged at the same instant. The jaguar reared himself erect on his hind feet, then fell backward, and lay convulsively kicking among the grass. The hunters rose to their knees, and were upon the point of reloading the barrels just discharged, when a shrill cry rent the air, and another jaguar, larger than the first, was seen bounding toward the one that had fallen! Reaching its dying mate, it stopped, and shrieked out a second bloodcurdling wawl. Though Charles and Raymond were still stantly. Upon examinatton it was found that the buck-shot had torn his face in such a manner as to destroy his sight. They must have struck him while his head was thrown back, for two or three of them had raked it from the nose to the top of the skull. Others had entered his neck and breast, and he had died from the inward bleeding which they had caused. It took our hunters but a short time to possess themselves of the two beautiful skins, and, having packed them upon their horses, they continued their journey. The tent material wherewith our adventurers had provided themselves, consisted simply of a piece of cotton cloth, measuring nine feet by twelve; and this, as the first night of travel rested down upon them, they fitted up with bits of stick, so that it offered a sufficient shelter. In the course of the afternoon they had fallen in with a number of water-hens, two of which they had shot; and now, kindling a fire outside their tent, they broiled the fowls, and found them delicious. Their apprehension of danger to themselves and to their horses, from prowling jaguars, caused them some uneasiness; but they were young and brave; their trusty double-barrels had already delivered them from a peril as great as any they seemed likely to encounter; it was hardly probable that those beasts were so abundant as to molest them everywhere; and thus strong in limb and spirit, they crept beneath their tent, and slept till morning. Thence Charles, who had already written twice to Anna Mortimer from Montevideo, despatched another long letter, and Raymond wrote to his parents, hardly restraining the great desire of his heart to send an account of his adventures also to Isabel Lee, little dreaming that his dark-eyed schoolmate was no longer in the home of her childhood, but among surroundings as foreign as his own. CHAPTER XIV. ISABEL UPON BLUE WATER. Lame from the unaccustomed horseback WHEN Mrs. Lee and her step-daugh exercise of the previous day, they remounted soon after sunrise, — having first eaten a hearty breakfast, and continued their journey. At night they again encamped, having met with no exciting adventure, though they had shot some small game. On both days they had passed, at wide intervals, the plantations of Uruguayan farmers, and had, at times, stopped and conversed, in the best Spanish at their command, with people at the houses on the road. On the day following they reached Colonia, having been three days in making their journey of one hundred miles; for they had not hurried, but had resolved to accustom themselves to the saddle without courting too much fatigue at the outset. ter left their New-England home, they knew that Captain Lee with his vessel was at Panama; and it had been arranged that they should arrive there in season to go with him up to San Francisco, instead of taking the steamer. They found, however, upon reaching the Pacific shore, that the captain had been offered an excellent opportunity to make a large amount of money, by taking an assorted cargo to Swan River, on the western coast of Australia, and had accepted the offer; making a wide alteration in his former plans, insomuch as his purpose now was to take his wife and daughter with him on the voyage, and not carry them to California until this new undertaking should be completed. He knew that nothing would At Colonia they found a small steamer, delight them more than this; and therefore, which they learned would start next morn- having by letter committed to a brother the ing for Buenos Ayres; and what was the keeping of his ranche for a period of absence surprise of Charles to find that her owner longer than was at first contemplated, he was an old schoolmate of his, -a Massa- was prepared to meet the expected ones chusetts Yankee, who had come out to with the new and romantic proposition. South America some years before, and was now doing a prosperous business on the La Plata. His house was in Buenos Ayres, but he had come over to Colonia as a passenger on his own boat, and was to return in her. His delight at meeting our two travelers was unbounded, and he ordered the capatin of the boat to show them every attention. Next morning the Americano del Sud, as the steamer was called, went puffing across the La Plata, which, between Colonia and Buenos Ayres, is about fifty miles wide; and before night Charles and Raymond with their horses, were safe in the Argentine capital. Their proffer of passage money was laughed at by Charles's old friend, and they remained at his house five days, improving the opportunity to familiarize themselves with one of the noblest of South-American cities. In the mean time they prevailed on their host to accept the two jaguar skins, which really made a very fine present, so smooth, glossy, and superbly spotted as they were. Isabel was highly pleased; almost forgetting her homesickness in anticipation of the wonderful things before her; and Mrs. Lee also entertained the plan with much favor. The vessel which Captain Lee commanded, and of which he owned one-fourth, was a beautiful bark of about six hundred tons, nearly new, and called the Terra del Oro. The cabin a very handsome one-was on deck, while just abaft the foremast stood the house in which slept the hands, with the exception of the cook and steward, who oc cupied a house on the booby-hatch. The house where the hands slept also contained the neat, inviting galley, shut in by a partition. Abaft the cabin was the little wheelhouse, in which shone the polished wheel of black-walnut; the equally polished tiller shipping aft, so that the helmsman had no occasion to move a foot. There was no paint aloft; the mast-heads, yards, booms, and gaffs being varnished till the hard, yellow pine shone like glass. She had just the proper sheer to give beauty. Her bow and stern were perfect; and the white streak that |