write again to us in the course of a week or two; and Sam's just waiting patiently for his answer, and doing his best, in the mean while, to prepare, in case it's a favorable one."

Tony fell into a reverie. That story of a man in love with one it might never be his destiny to win, had its own deep significance for him. Was there any grief, was there any misery, to compare with it? And although Sam M'Gruder, the junior partner in the rag trade, was not a very romantic sort of character, yet did he feel an intense sympathy for him. They were both sufferers from the malady, albeit Sam's attack was from a very mild form of the complaint.

"You must give me a letter to your brother," said he at length. "Some day or other

Justice Holt, whose perpetually recurring expression was, "Lookie, d'ye see?" An admirer of the chief justice one day said to his nephew, "Your uncle is a great man; but what a pity it is that he can't talk for any time together without bringing in, 'Lookie, d'ye see?'" "I'll break him of it, ," said the nephew; and the mode he adopted was as follows: Holt had often found fault with him for not giving his mind to legal studies. One day the nephew surprised him not a little by saying, "Well, uncle, I have thought much of your advice, and have been acting upon it so intently as to have versified parts of Coke upon Lyttleton.' Shall I give you a specimen?" Holt nodded assent, and he proceeded thus :—

MORE than one eminent philologist has asserted that to the streets we owe most of the new words, and a good deal of the colloquial strength, of our language. One singular feature in so-called "vulgar speech" is the retention and revival of sterling old English words. A dictionary of these colloquial expressions, giving, where possible, their origin, with instances of their use, has been under compilation by the London antiquary who edited the small "Dictionary of Modern Slang in 1859" for many years. His new book, entitled, "The Slang Dictionary, or the Vulgar Words, Street Phrases, and Fast Expressions of High and Low Society," now on the eve of publication, will include the smaller work, and will, besides, especially treat of the Lingua Franca, or " Organ Grinder's" speech, largely introduced into the slang of our London lower orders; the Anglo-Indian and High-Chinese slang, extensively spoken amongst our seafaring population; the slang of "the turf" and fashionable sporting society; and the phrases used by gamblers, card-tricksters, and others who play at games of chance. The work will contain about 10,000 words and phrases, which are said to be in every-day use, but which are contained in no English dictionary.ment

ANECDOTE OF CHIEF JUSTICE HOLT.-Mr. Knox was one day talking of the habit which many persons, even of superior education, contract of iuterlarding their conversation with one or another peculiar phrase, without being aware of it. Among such was the celebrated lawyer, Chief

"He that is tenant in fee

Need neither quake nor quiver; For he hath it, 'Lookie, d'ye see?' To him and his heirs forever." "Ah, you rogue," said the old judge, “I understand you."-Harford's " Wilberforce."

THE Bishop of London is urging the appointof five hundred additional curates to meet the spiritual destitution of London. A writer in the London Review recommends the establishment of common halls, where fifty or sixty curates might reside at half the cost, and double the comfort they can hope to find in private lodgings. He thinks, if the attention of parishioners was once turned to the importance of this plan, such halls would gather to themselves libraries and, by degrees, endowments and benefactions.

THE HEART OF THE WAR.

313 THE HEART OF THE WAR.

And some, struck down by fell disease,

Are breathing out their life ;
BY J. G. HOLLAND.

And others, maimed by cruel wounds,
PEACE in the clover-scented air,

Have left the deadly strife.
And stars within the dome;
And underneath, in dim repose,
A plain New England home.

Ah, Marty! Marty! only think
Within, a murmur of low tones

Of all the boys bave done And sighs from hearts oppressed,

And suffered in this weary war! Merging prayer, at last, that brings

Brave heroes, every one ! The balm of silent rest.

Oh ! often, often in the night,

I hear their voices call :
“ Come on and help us. Is it right

That we should bear it all ?"
I've closed a hard day's work, Marty,
The evening chores are done ;

And when I kneel and try to pray,
And you are weary with the house,
And with the little one.

My thoughts are never free,
But he is sleeping sweetly now,

But cling to those who toil and fight With all our pretty brood ;

And die for you and me. So come and sit upon my knee,

And when I pray for victory,
And it will do me good.

It seems almost a sin
To fold my hands and ask for what

I will not help to win.
Oh, Marty! I must tell you all

The trouble in my heart,
And you must do the best you can,

Oh ! do not cling to me and cry,
To take and bear your part.

For it will break my heart ; You've seen the shadow on my face;

I'm sure you'd rather have me die You've felt it day and night ;

Than not to bear my part. For it has filled our little home,

You think that some should stay at home And banished all its light.

To care for those away ;
But still I'm helpless to decide

If I should go or stay.
I did not mean it should be so,

And yet I might have known
That hearts that live as close as ours

For, Marty, all the soldiers love,

And all are loved again;
Can never keep their own.
But we are fallen on evil times,

And I am loved, and love, perhaps,

No more than other men.
And, do whate'er I may,

I cannot tell--I do not know-
My heart grows sad about the war,
And sadder every day.

Which' way my duty lies,
Or where the Lord would have me build

My fire of sacrifice.
I think about it when I work.

And when I try to rest,
And never more than when your

head

I feel I know I am not mean ;
Is pillowed on my breast ;

And though I seem to boast,
For then I see the camp-fires blaze,

I'm sure that I would give my life
And sleeping men around,

To those who need it most. Who turn their faces toward their homes, Perhaps the Spirit will reveal and dream upon the ground.

That which is fair and right;
So, Marty, let us humbly kneel

And pray to Heaven for light.
I think about the.dear, brave boys,

My mates in other years,
Who pine for home and those they love,

Till I am choked with tears.
With shouts and cheers they marched away

Peace in the clover-scented air,
On glory's shining track ;

And stars within the dome;
But, ah ! how long, how long they stay !

And underneath, in dim repose,
How few of them come back !

A plain New England home.

Within, a widow in her weeds,
One sleeps beside the Tennessee.

From whom all joy is flown,
And one beside the James,

Who kneels among her sleeping babes, And one fought on a gallant ship

And weeps and prays alone!
And perished in its flames.

-Ållantic Monthly.

PART XIII. CHAPTER XL.

"Now, Mr. Wodehouse,” said Jack Wentworth," it appears that you and I have a word to say to each other." They had all risen when the other gentlemen followed Mr. Morgan out of the room, and those who remained stood in a group surrounding the unhappy culprit, and renewing his impression of per sonal danger. When he heard himself thus addressed, he backed against the wall, and instinctively took one of the chairs and placed it before him. His furtive eye sought the" nowadays. I aint to be dictated to-and I sha'n't be, by Jove! As for Jack Wentworth, he's well known to be neither more nor less ”—

Wodehouse's place, he would have been master of the position as much as now. He was not shocked nor indignant like his brothers. He was simply contemptuous, disdainful, not so much of wickedness as of the clumsy and shabby fashion in which it had been accomplished. As for the offender, who had been defiant in his sulky fashion up to this moment, his courage oozed out at his finger-ends under Jack Wentworth's eye.

"I am my own master," he stammered,

I

door and the window, investigating the chances of escape. When he saw there was none, he withdrew still a step farther back, and stood at bay.

"By Jove! I aint going stand all this," said Wodehouse; "as if every fellow had a right to bully me; it's more than flesh and blood can put up with. I don't care for that old fogie that's gone up-stairs; but, by Jove! I wont stand any more from men that eat my dinners, and win my money, and "

"Than what, Mr. Wodehouse?" said the serene and splendid Jack. "Don't interest yourself on my account, Frank. This is my business at present. If you have any prayermeetings in hand, we can spare you-and don't forget our respectable friend in your supplications. Favor us with your definition of Jack Wentworth, Mr. Wodehouse. He is neither more nor less ”—

Jack Wentworth made half a step forward with a superb smile: “ My good fellow, you "By Jove! I aint going to stand it," should never reproach a man with his good cried Wodehouse; "if a fellow's to be actions," he said; "but at the same time, driven mad and insulted and have his money having eaten your dinner, as you describe, I won from him and made game of—not to have a claim on your gratitude. We have say tossed about as I've been among 'em, had some-a-business connection—for some and made a drudge of and set to do the dirty years. I don't say you have reason to be ac- work," said the unfortunate subordinate, tually grateful for that; but, at least, it with a touch of pathos in his hoarse voice; brought you now and then into the society "I don't mean to say I've been what I ought; of gentlemen. A man who robs a set of wo- but, by Jove! to be put upon as I've been men, and leaves the poor creature he has and knocked about; and at the last they ruined destitute, is a sort of cur we have haven't the pluck to stand by a fellow, by nothing to say to," said the heir of the Went- Jove!" muttered Mr. Wodehouse's unlucky worths, contemptuously. "We do not pre- heir. What further exasperation his smiling tend to be saints; but we are not black- superior was about to heap upon him, noguards; that is to say," said Jack, with a body could tell; for just as Jack Wentworth perfectly calm and harmonious smile, "not was about to speak, and just as Wodehouse in theory, nor in our own opinion. The fact had again faced towards him, half-cowed, accordingly is, my friend, that you must half-resisting, Gerald, who had been looking choose between us and those respectable on in silence, came forward out of the meannesses of yours. By Jove! the fellow shadow. He had seen all and heard all, from ought to have been a shopkeeper, and as that moral death-bed of his, where no perhonest as-Diogenes," said Jack. He stood sonal cares could again disturb him; and looking at his wretched associate with the though he had resigned his office, he could overwhelming impertinence of a perfectly not belie his nature. He came in by instinct well-bred man, noway concealing the con- to cherish the dawn of compunction which temptuous inspection with which his cool appeared, as he thought, in the sinner's eyes travelled over the disconcerted figure from top to toe, sccing and exaggerating all its tremors and clumsy guiltiness. The chances are, had Jack Wentworth been in

words.

"The best thing that can happen to you," said Gerald, at the sound of whose voice everybody started, "is to find out that the

wages of sin are bitter. Don't expect any much in the way of practising them, and Gerald's address, which, in the first place, filled him with awe, moved him afterwards with passing thrills of compunction, mingled with a kind of delight at the idea of getting free. When his admonitor said " Go," Wodehouse made a step towards the door, and for an instant felt the exhilaration of enfranchisement. But the next moment his eye sought Jack Wentworth's face, which was so superbly careless, so indifferent to him and his intentions, and the vagabond's soul succumbed with a canine fidelity to his mas

sympathy or consolation from those who have helped you to do wrong. My brother tries to induce you to do a right act from an unworthy motive. He says your former associates will not acknowledge you. My advice to you is to forsake your former associates. My brother," said Gerald, turning aside to look at him," would do himself honor if he forsook them also; but for you, here is your opportunity. You have no temptation of poverty now. Take the first step, and forsake them. I have no motive in advising you-except, indeed, that I am Jack Went-ter. Had Jack shown any interest, any exworth's brother. He and you are different," citement in the matter, his sway might have said Gerald, involuntarily glancing from one been doubtful; but in proportion to the sense to the other. "And at present you have of his own insignificance and unimportance the means of escape. Go now and leave Wodehouse's allegiance confirmed itself. He them," said the man who was a priest by looked wistfully toward the hero of his imnature. The light returned to his eye while agination, as that skilful personage selected he spoke; he was no longer passive, contem- his cigar. He would rather have been plating his own moral death; his natural kicked again than left alone, and left to himoffice had come back to him unawares. He self. After all, it was very true what Jack stretched his arm toward the door, thinking Wentworth said. They might be a bad lot; of nothing but the escape of the sinner. but they were gentlemen (according to Wode"Go," said Gerald. "Refuse their appro- house's understanding of the word) with bation; shun their society. For Christ's whom he had been associated; and beatific sake, and not for theirs, make amends to visions of peers and baronets and honorathose you have wronged. Jack, I command bles, among whom his own shabby person you to let him go." had figured, without feeling much below the Jack, who had been startled at first, had common level, crossed his mind with all the recovered himself long before his brother sweetness which belongs to a past state of ceased to speak. "Let him go, by all means,' affairs. Yet it was still in his power to recall he said, and stood superbly indifferent by these vanishing glories. Now that he was Gerald's side, whistling under his breath a rich, and could "cut a figure" among the tripping, lively air. "No occasion for solem- objects of his admiration, was that brilliant nity. The sooner he goes, the better," said world to be closed upon him forever by his Jack. "In short, I see no reason why any own obstinacy? As these thoughts rushed of us should stay, now the business is accom- through his mind, little Rosa's beauty and plished. I wonder would his reverence ever natural grace came suddenly to his recollecforgive me if I lighted my cigar?" He took tion. Nobody need know how he had got out his case as he spoke, and began to look his pretty wife, and a pretty wife she would over its contents. There was one in the be,—a creature whom nobody could help adroom, however, who was better acquainted miring. Wodehouse looked wistfully at Jack with the indications of Jack Wentworth's Wentworth, who took no notice of him as he face than either of his brothers. This un- chose his cigar. Jack was not only the ideal fortunate, who was hanging in an agony of of the clumsier rogue; but he was the dooruncertainty over the chair he had placed keeper of that paradise of disreputable nobefore him, watched every movement of his bles and ruined gentlemen which was Wodeleader's face with the anxious gaze of a lover, house's idea of good society; and from all hoping to see a little corresponding anxiety this was he about to be banished? Jack in it, but watched in vain. Wodehouse had Wentworth selected his cigar with as much been going through a fever of doubt and care as if his happiness depended on it, and divided impulses. The shabby fellow was took no notice of the stealthy glances thrown open to good impressions, though he was not at him. I'll get a light in the hall," said

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