Her husband out of the way, hálf of her difficulties vanished. It made no difference then what he thought of fancy dresses-he would not be near to see, and the bed could be taken out of their own room and the supper laid there. She and the children wouldn't mind if the house was turned inside out for one night; the supper and the music must be had, and she must get over the bills with him as she could after his return. There was no retreating from them. And now, elated with the prospect of success thus far, as many an unfortunate has done before her, Mrs. Beebe's mind conceived a bolder stroke still. If Joshua found new carpets down and curtains up he would be forced to give in to the measure, whether he approved of it or not. What was the use of going through two or three scenes, when one grand one was all-sufficient? What was the need of being so extremely prudent and economical all the while? She did not intend to live forever in Twenty-seventh Street either, he might make up his mind to that; in a house without an extension room, or at least an English basement, where they could dine on the first floor! He would be sure to flare out about the supper, and she might as well have her carpets at the same time, since she must go through with it. It would do no harm, at all events, to look around a little, and so Mrs. Beebe found herself at Anderson's-for she did not aspire to Sloan's or Humphrey's as yet-the very next afternoon. Then to the upholsterer's. "Suppose-only suppose, you understand-that curtains for two windows were ordered on a given day, could they be finished and put up the day following?" 66 'Oh, certainly; cer-tainly! With the immense facilities of this extensive firm, the best and quickest workmen in the city were constantly employed by them; their enormous business justified it; by all means." And the elegant individual employed as chief salesman to Draper and Co. bowed and rubbed his hands, and attended her, in his extreme politeness, to the very pavement. Any ordinary instrument of bodily torture is a bed of roses to the mental rack on which Mrs. Beebe found herself stretched until her husband's valise was really packed and she had fairly shut the door upon his departure for Philadelphia. Mr. Beebe consulted his red silk pocket handkerchief once or twice before he reached the omnibus. He left home so rarely, and so dreaded a strange bed and unaccustomed table that it was really a trial to him. Besides, nobody ever knew what might happen! He had never been round the world, or even taken a trip to China to inspect junk building; a journey was a journey to him, and he had not implicit confidence in the Camden and Amboy Railroad. Besides, he always missed the children dreadfully, and Eliza seemed to hate to have him go, especially to-day! How many times she had spoken of it! He had a great mind to turn back and trust to a collector, even after he was on the ferryboat. VOL. XVIII.-No. 105.-Z Two days to do the work of six in! Mrs. Beebe had no time for sleep, scarcely for food; the carpets, the curtains, the supper, the music to order; the children's dresses all to see to. It was well Mr. Beebe had left a liberal supply of market money. There was carriage hire to begin with-she never would have got through the first day but for Mrs. Slote's suggestion of a hack; and indeed but for the kindness of this best of friends in taking all the trouble with the supper, and Trombone and Co. Mrs. Beebe was forced to leave both to her, and was greatly relieved to find that dishes and silver would be supplied from Wagner's, as well as brackets for the side-lights Mrs. Slote thought indispensable. Since she was not to pay the bills, Mrs. Slote left general orders-"Every thing as handsome as possible." The miserable, harassed, distracting day of the party itself! A strange dress-maker, found by Mrs. Slote, in the back chamber finishing the children's costumes; Mrs. Beebe out three hours on a second search among the furriers for the peculiarly spotted skin indispensable to Diana's boddice, and when found, only to be had at the startling price of seven dollars; the two crescents for the Saracen's turban and Diana's hair, of the most brilliant paste, to be hired at a jeweler's, and ten dollars more left in pledge; Bo Beep's crook-"nothing easier to get!"-appeared to be following the missing sheep up to one o'clock, and the quilted red silk petticoat coming home, six inches too long, at three, with a bill of eight dollars more. An unapproachable waiter, too dignified even for suggestions, laying a table in her own room, where every thing that she wanted was, of course. Four o'clock, and no curtains-the shades already taken down-and the carpet people gone for an extra breadth to fit into the recesses after they returned. Five; and Hannah coming to ask if there was to be punch in the gentlemen's dressing-room-a seven-by-nine apartment over the hall! Six; the dress-maker working away on the leopard-skin boddice, breaking her needle or her thread at every stitch, and the room still to be arranged for guests; the upholsterer's man making a distracting noise in putting up the cornices; the children's toilet not begun, and her own entirely unthought of. Seven; with the children at that pitch of excitement when it was impossible to get them to keep quiet a moment, and all the extra force engaged in the endeavor to array them in their unaccustomed habiliments. Eight; and the first carriage rattled up to the door, just as Hannah conveyed the last armful of a miscellaneous collection of articles from the dressing-room, and Mrs. Beebe, shut up in the servants' attic, had progressed as far as stockings and slippers in her own toilet, not so much as knowing whether the man from Draper's had gone, or the gas was lighted in the parlors! Anticipating, with the eagerness of a child, Eliza's pleasure at his unexpected return, and stealing a kiss from his sleeping children, from Mr. Beebe began to wish for the little dog turbed with similar doubts as to her own identity, and in this paralyzed state thought to gain his own room and deliberate as to action. It was impossible to force his valise and overcoat through the crowd, and he deposited both on the hat-stand mechanically. The groups in the hall gave way to the rather peculiar late arrival, though the flow of conversation was uninterrupted. whom he had been separated two whole days, Mr. Beebe turned the corner into Twenty-seventh on which the market dame relied when disStreet just as the clock at the Station-house sounded eleven. He had driven up from the landing in a hack-an unusual extravagance on his part, for Mr. Beebe still prided himself on his pedestrian powers and the limited amount of his carriage-hire in the course of a year. The cars had been detained, and he had availed himself of all possible speed to reach home before the household were too far gone in slumber to admit him, or the range-fire too low to produce some nice little hot thing for his supper. It would be most a pity to call Eliza and the cook up such a cold night, though; and this most amiable of men was unselfishly relinquishing his original plan, when the driver paused in a stream of light that illuminated the interior of his dingy vehicle. "Who are these Beebes ?" was the first remark that reached his ears as he attempted to elbow past a tall dame in gold-colored silk with black lace flounces. "Dear knows!"-gratifying rejoinder to the master of the house, hopelessly squeezed into a niche on the stair-case, and obliged to listen. Quite common people, I believe-taken up by the Slotes." 66 "But how came they in our set? I don't understand!" and the stout, gold-colored shoulders shrugged superciliously. "Oh! here comes Mrs. Gardner; she can tell you all about it. How in the world did you happen to know the Beebes ?" "Shu!-some of them may be about," and the new-comer laid her finger on her lip, warningly. "Never fear; she's in the back parlor, trying to look easy and unconcerned; and those little torments-abominably rude, under-bred children!-are stuffing themselves at the suppertable beforehand-two of them are, anyhow!" "How does it look?" and Mr. Beebe found himself shoved a step higher, but still in the throng and in the shadow. "Oh! that's well enough. Mrs. Slote was afraid, it appears, knowing that Mrs. Beebe wasn't used to such things, and gave Wagner Mr. Beebe sprang to the pavement a bewildered man, forgetting the dollar bill he had selected from his pocket-book and held in his hand ever since leaving Courtland Street, so as to be prompt with the hackman on his arrival, and would have laid himself open to unpleasant consequences but for that individual's reminder as he prepared to mount the steps. It was his home sure enough; his hall-all he could see of it for the throng; his parlors-no, these win-carte blanche, so a pretty bill they'll have of it! dows had curtains, and tassels, and great gilt cornices-and intensely relieved, though still mystified, he was for retreating, valise in hand, as quietly as possible, when he was arrested by the novelty of the sight which the juvenile part of the company presented. Miniature soldiers and sailor boys promenaded about with little girls "rigged up" after a fashion that made Mr. Beebe's unaccustomed eyes stare again-little monkeys that they were, in their powder and patches, their trailing swords, and embroidered doublets. What was the world coming to? He should like to see his children running 'round after that fashion this time of night! and, as if to gratify this sarcastic desire on Mr. Beebe's part, he discovered at the moment-what?-yes, it wascould it be?—he scarcely knew the child, but it was his own daughter Clementina, a giltpaper thing with quills sticking out of it hanging over her bare shoulders, a little piece of fur tied around her waist, and short, white petticoats pinned up above her knee, walking about before every body in the most unblushing man ner. It's laid in a bedroom, though-only think! and as for the dressing-room, you can't turn round in it!" "You didn't tell us how they happened to give the party, though." "Oh! why we undertook to get up the Sociables, Mrs. Storm and myself, and Mrs. John Gardner, my sister-in-law, had to give up-her brother died-just as we got every thing nicely arranged. Mrs. Slote proposed this friend of hers; and though we knew nothing about her we took Louisa's word for it that they were respectable. Do you believe we did not know till I'd called on her, that her husband was— don't scream-only a carpenter! That boy of hers told my Frank." "Children and fools-ha, ha! Capital joke!" and the black flounces, condescending to notice that some one had been trying to pass five minutes before, swept aside three inches to make room. But Mr. Beebe began to find himself enlightened, and preferred to remain where he was. He had subdued his first impulse of kicking the strange waiters and musicians, and turning the whole crowd out of the house, Eliza after them. I needed quite as much of his attention till dayHe was sufficiently enraged even for that at light. first; and certain undefined plans with regard to shutting her up in an insane asylum began to yield to a more moderate remedy for her apparent mental and moral aberration. "I can tell you a better joke than that-Are you sure she hasn't left the parlors yet?-the Wedding March always means five minutes to supper, you know. Well, I've just been hearing the oddest thing from Mrs. Slote. She's so droll! you should have heard her. You know we have wondered all winter whether there was a Mr. Beebe or not-he never appears any where. Do you think, she got him off to Philadelphia —Mrs. Beebe, you know—and he actually hasn't an idea of the thing, and these very new curtains and the carpets were ordered after he left, and she was in a perfect state of mind for fear they wouldn't be ready in time. Mrs. Slote says she never pitied a poor creature so in all her life, for she's in absolute terror of the bills coming in and her husband finding her out." "La! she'll get used to that as we have!" and these Roman dames laughed in chorusstopping suddenly, however, as they caught sight of a pale face and shining eyes looking down over the banister at them. They had forgotten that there are back stairs to most houses, and that it would be natural for the hostess to avail herself of them to glance at her supper-table before the guests were summoned. Mr. Beebe also recognized the face, and knew from its expression that he should have but little to tell. Where the stout man disappeared to Mrs. Gardner and her set neither knew nor cared, occupied in guessing how much Mrs. Beebe might possibly have overheard of their friendly and charitable comments. Even Hannah did not discover his presence in the house, nor his wife dream that he was this side of New Jersey, as she constrained herself to suppress the anger and mortification she endured, and smile the last guest from the disordered and now dreary-looking rooms. Had not all gone? She checked the gesture of fatigue and wretchedness that involuntarily clenched her outstretched hands as she threw herself on a sofa, exhausted and miserable, and started up again with a pitiful smile as some one advanced toward her. "Well, Eliza! Had a nice time? Where's the bills? Suppose we go over 'em together, if you ain't too tired." But Mr. Beebe's jocular tone was changed into a shout for "Hannah!" and "camfire!" as his wife fell forward on his shoulder, in the first fit of hysterics she had ever treated him to. It did not make much difference whether there was a bed up or not that night, for when Hannah arrived it was with the intelligence that "Lotty was crowing like a chicken with the croup," and Georgy was discovered on the floor of the supper-room, by the doctor hastily summoned, in a severe fit of cholera morbus, that Mrs. Gardner and Mrs. Storm came to the conclusion that Mrs. Beebe must have overheard their lady-like conversation, as she never returned their party-call, and had broken off with Mrs. Slote. She was too gratefully devoted to her husband's comfort, and in gratifying his slightest wish, to care for them or their society. She had good reason to be; for what man in ten thousand would have paid the four hundred and eighty dollars, including carpets, supper, the doctor, dry-goods bill and all, without upbraiding or reproach, contenting himself with the remark that "Those who dance must pay the piper?" We do not know of another in the whole circle of our acquaintance. I "FOUND FLOATING ON THE WATER.” AM about to comply with your request, my dear friend, and give you some particulars of my rather remarkable history. It will be imposing a severe tax on your patience, but my hope is that the narrative may possess interest enough to offset it. In order to give you a correct idea of the circumstances in which I was placed, we must go back for a starting-point to the period of my memory's birth. Tracing thence the incidents of my life, you will be forced to recognize the hand which, by causes apparently trifling and insignificant, restrained me from the commis sion of a crime that would have imbittered my whole existence. The first thing which I distinctly remember was being held in my nurse's arms to look upon the ocean. I could not have been more than ́ four years old, and the impression then made on my mind has never been effaced. The huge billows flashed with myriad sapphires and emeralds as the bright sunshine rested on them. their foaming crests seeming to be encircled with a dazzling effulgence of glory. Since that distant day I have never gazed on a body of water, especially under bright skies and in a Imild clime, without being instantaneously carried back to this my earliest reminiscence. Of the scenes which immediately succeeded I have no recollection. Either I was not old enough to comprehend, or, as is most probable, sleep, the sound healthy sleep of childhood, wrapped my senses in blessed oblivion. All is a blank until the period when many persons, men, women, and children, came to see me, taking my hands in their own and gazing earnestly into my eyes. Mothers held their little ones to touch and kiss me; girls and boys led me about a large hall, all vying with each other how first and most to attract my attention; and old men laid their hands on my head, tears flowing fast the while, I knew not why, as they repeated, mournfully, "How strange! Floating on the water." I can recall the curious way in which they scrutinized me as they crowded around, the eager questioning of each other, the long recital that I did not understand, and which always | love were so showered upon me during my first ended with, "Found floating on the water." remembered years, that I neither thought nor cared who I was or how I came to be an object of such affectionate devotion. I was sheltered as much as possible from every annoyance and from all vulgar observation by my beloved mother; and yet I often overheard her, to friends You, my dearest Evelyn, knew and appreciated the gentle being who permitted me to call her mother, whose lavish affection and untiring care never suffered me to feel the loss of my Her image, when for the first time I beheld her, as she crossed that long hall and ap- | from a distance or to strangers, relating in low own. proached the spot where I stood, is at this moment before me vividly distinct as if the event had happened only yesterday. My heart warmed toward her from the instant she first folded me in her arms and called me her dear child, her darling Christine. She took me away with her a long distance in a carriage. Its rocking motion lulled me to sleep. When I awoke, how astonished and delighted were my wondering senses to behold the little chamber which I was ever after permitted to call my own! How fresh in remembrance is that narrow room with its tiny furniture; the little crib in which I awoke to happiness; the low shelves crowded with toys variously arranged and pretty enough to turn the head of any child; dolls nicely dressed; oh! how beautiful they seemed to me; little story books full of blue-frocked men and women with red-apple cheeks; miniature chairs, and especially one small rocker, on the back of which was inscribed in large letters, For Papa's good Christine. How these all stand out in the picture of my child-life! I somehow knew that they were not bought for me, and yet they were there when I awoke, and there they were always, part and parcel of that cozy chamber. On the walls were hung pleasant pictures, exceedingly pleasant to a child. How I used to lie and watch the grave, kind-looking dog, in the frame at the foot of my bed! I asked good Marny, my nurse, "Is it my dog?" "No; it was the pet of another little Christine. When she went to heaven poor Ponto sat on her grave and mourned till he died. This was his picture." Then there was a wondrous print of Red Riding Hood, with her pot of butter and the sly old wolf grinning at her through the bushes; and a most attractive representation of the undying "Babes in the Wood," clad in scarlet frocks and weeping into blue handkerchiefs, while the cruel uncle, who sported white pantaloons and bright buttons, coolly walked away in the distance. Few persons are aware how strong is the direct influence which picture stories exert over the minds of children. How many belligerent manifestos have I hurled at that "wicked old wolf!" How often have I clenched my little fists at the "cruel uncle!" To this day I never see any exhibition of meanness or deceit without having the same temptation to scowl and threaten beset me. Surrounded by comforts, by luxuries even, my wishes granted for the asking, kindness and tones a long story, which somehow seemed to have reference to me, although evidently not intended for me to hear. Methinks I this moment feel her kind hand as she smoothed my long curls, and hear her kinder voice utter those words, which, from being so often repeated, became stereotyped on my memory-“When all was over, this dear child was found floating on the water." I was not old enough to reason, yet to be an object of so much attention was gratifying to my pride even at this early age. With a disposition naturally enthusiastic and ardent, I loved every body, because every body loved or seemed to love me. When I began to attend school, this was still more apparent. I seemed to be singled out for every favor, every little act of kindness, and in my simplicity I believed that all the world was good. My schoolmates universally asserted my right to be exempt from vexation, and the teachers appeared more lenient to me than to others. "Don't tease Christine; she must not be vexed," was the expression of all. I was, in fact, the pet of the school. If a new pupil came she was immediately taken aside, and, in earnest, mysterious tones, informed why I was thus petted; the communication always ending, as I knew it would end, with-"Found floating on the water." As I became more advanced in years these words were less frequently heard. It was becoming an old story. The present, with its tangible realities, was crowding out the, to me, uncertain past. Faces and forms which hitherto had indistinctly haunted my imagination gradually faded. In my solitary musings they would sometimes start out from the gathering oblivion, like spectres; and, like spectres, instantly vanish, if duty or pleasure recalled me to myself. I had always heard of another Christine-my angel sister. My playthings had been hers. Dreams of her in her far off home would come to me, as I reposed on her little cot and her good Ponto kept guard over my slumbers! All these appeared to me like the details of a pleasant story, some portions of which were fresher and more recent than the rest because they had happened lately. When Marny laid me away for the night, my dear mother would come and sit beside me, sing me little songs, and tell me about the good children whom our Lord loved and blessed, and who were now gathered to His bosom. These she called " Angel Hymns." How I loved to hear her sing them! She would frequently lay some little toy on my pillow, which she called a dream-charm; and I, clasping it tightly in my hand, would unconsciously sail away, in sweet | surrounded me. forgetfulness, to the shores of dream-land. Every body knows what a passion children have for head-less, wheel-less, tail-less playthings. Give them the choice, and, five times out of six, a box of mutilated toys would be preferred to one that was perfect. It affords supreme pleasure to the little things to try on heads and set dislocated limbs. Many a time have I seen a stylish doll, decked with silks and lace, forsaken by a child for a rag baby with a flat head, limpsy neck and features, done in pen and ink. You recollect the story of the little prince who, surrounded by multitudes of toys, tired of them all and longed for the privilege of playing at mud-pies in a gutter. Some Scotch divine says that this example confirms the doctrine of innate total depravity; and there are times, perhaps, in the lives of all children, when mothers will be tempted to agree with him. I certainly can not boast of a taste purer than that of my juvenile brothers and sisters; for I have often left my nicely-arranged playshelves to tumble over a box of men and women maimed, or of mimic villages which looked as if they had been sacked and plundered. Among these ruins I one day found a little, well-worn shoe. My dear mother caught me in the act of trying to get it on over my own. Taking the little cast-off thing from me she pressed it to her lips, while the large tears which forced themselves through her closed eyelids revealed the intensity of her feelings. I marveled at her emotion then. Bereaved as I have since been, the love which stoops to kiss a little half-worn shoe has nothing mysterious in it. "It was worn by angel Christine when she lived and walked on the earth!" said she. "Is she my sister?" I asked. "Once she came to live with me as you do now. Our Lord then called her to another home in the skies, and gave you to my love. Now I have two Christines-one in my home on earth, and one in my home above!" "Wasn't God willing that you should have two little girls at the same time?" "All little children belong to God," she answered. "He has a right to call them home when he pleases." "Shall we ever see angel Christine ?" "We shall go to her; she can never return to us." About this time, however, an incident occurred which tended to arouse my hitherto dormant curiosity. It was at a merry-making-the birthday party of my friend, Marian Slade. She was nine years of age; and though larger and older than myself, we were on this occasion dressed alike, and I was second in importance only to her. Mirth and joy ruled the hour. While frolicking in a circle around Marian my playmates began to compare ages. It was the first time that the thought of my own age had ever entered my mind when one little girl, almost a stranger in A- turned to me, and abruptly asked, 2 "How old are you, Christine?" Chagrined at my inability to answer the question, my confusion became visible in my face. What could I say? How old was I? I had never asked myself the question before, and was now puzzled for a reason why no one else had ever asked it. There was a sudden glance of intelligence interchanged all round the circle, which was immediately broken, and the stranger girl drawn into a corner. From the fragments of whispers which I could catch they were telling her of some fatal calamity. Ah! it was the same old story. Either my ear caught or imagination supplied the words— "Found floating on the water." Pained, reserved, I had lost all interest in the occasion, except so far as it had reference to the mystery of my own age. I saw that my companions were making every exertion to banish the incident from my mind, but I stood aloof, silent and unhappy. For the first time in my life I was vexed at being an object of attention and curiosity. Why did my playmates look so pitifully upon me? Why did they patronize me? I needed not their protection. What was the meaning of those strange words? Was I "found floating on the water?"-I, who had such a kind mother, such a dear home? The idea was absurd! It could not be possible that she whom I loved so well was not indeed my real mother. Yet, had I always lived with her? There was certainly something which I did not understand; and I firmly resolved to have the mystery unraveled before another day. My That evening I went to my little bed wide awake and waited the accustomed visit. My mother soon came. I heard her voice, and the A loving kiss reconciled every thing that to words alone of the hymn fell on my ear. my simple comprehension was obscure; and mind was elsewhere. This night "The Happy fully satisfied with the happy lot of one Chris- Land" had no charms for me. I was of the tine, my childish mind gave itself no disqui-"earth, earthy." I soon interrupted her with etude about the higher felicity of the other. the inquiry, My mind matured with my years; and although those mystical words, "Found floating on the water" were not now heard, they were never forgotten. They had been too often repeated in my hearing to pass entirely out of mind. Occasionally, too, the suspicion would arise that I had not always lived in A- -; that at some time other and different scenes had "Mother, when shall I have a birthday?" "When you are a little older," she replied. "Marian is a great girl, nine years old." "When shall I be nine?" "Not for a great while," and the hymn immediately went on again. But I was not to be put off thus. "Did I ever float on the water?" I asked. |