shakin' o' Sophy Root's skirts! Sure that time Oy didn't take home uppards an' it she be a big woman, there's o' thirty bushels o' tarnups. Oy deed, room enough for sich as yew. Sophy, an' more besides. Some un mun ha' woman," he whispered, hoarse with gien he a sort o' tickling jist at the last, distress, "doan't 'e take to screechin' an' yit we parded good friends. 'Yo -tain't but a pup. (Darn they wim-down't wholly suit me,' he sez,' but Oy'll men, a man can't noways do nowt. gie yo a character, for,' sez he, 'Oy Any man might think I were a-doin' down't knowe nowt agin yo.' An' no rightly a-settin' on thicky bench-but more he din't, I down't b'lieve. 'E's noa !) Sophy, woman, there's a lady gien me a shillin' now an' agin sin' a'speakin' to ye; go in her seat, time I were out o' work like, but he woman, like a good un !" ain't niver took me on-only a job in the churchyard, a-sweepin' or a-mowin' o' grass - but that ere do gue agin my stomick."

But Sophy replied in a trembling pipe which sounded shrilly in the church.

"Oy'm a-feared as that'll bite me." "That own't bite ye, nut it!"

know'd he same as Oy. 'E know'd, and I stuck to 'im, an' I could work for 'im-as I couldn't for n'er another man- a'case Oy allus know'd 'e know'd. That kep me agin mysen. Oy know'd twarn't a mite o' use to try

That evening, as Jonas sat the centre of an admiring circle in the parlor But Sophy remained stationary, with of the Bird in Hand, he said in the the puppy gnawing her ankles and roll-tone of one who knew,ing about in and out her skirts. The "It were wholly wonderful the sight time might come, she felt, when she o' people wot was there to see the last should scream. Jonas, seeing what o' Tom, but there warn't a-menny as was in her mind, turned his eyes resolutely to the parson; and Miss Caird, becoming desperate, left her seat, and taking Sophy by the arm led her gently the few steps necessary to place her in safety. For a moment the puppy stared wildly round. She had forgotten every- to gue agin he. Yo couldn't niver thing except the flavor of Sophy's boots, and could no longer scent out Jonas. Catching sight of Sophy disappearing, she plunged wildly into the pew across Miss Caird, and suddenly subsided into silence and repose under the bench behind Sophy's skirts.

But Jonas was fascinated by new words which reached his ears. He listened because he reckoned that the parson knew more about Tom-"nor any o' we," as he expressed it.

head him neither. Only once I tried it, an' thin he got the better o' me! It were along o' they tarnups, gret white uns, they was. Oy thartWaal, Oy ain't a-goin' to scrape thicky al d'y for ship an' nary hef an mysen. So afore I went home Oy put half-ascore or so in my inards coat pocket – wot hangs loose like-an' the next evenin' I did the same. Why, Lord bless me ! ef Oy didn't 'ear Tom a-s'y|ing, 'Oy'll larn yo to be a-thievin' o' "Wot's that he's a-s'ying: 'We my tarnups!' An' then I jist went mun all be chynged!' Noa, then! He muzzy in my head like, an' felt I were kean't knowe nowt about Tom! Tom a-grippin' hould o' the straw wot lies warn't niver one to chynge. Ah, pas- there, an' seemly as 'twere a ingine son he down't knowe nowt. For all a-bein' druv backards an' forards hisn larnin' 'e down't knowe nowt. over my back. Lord! Din't 'e lay Latin an' Greek an' al sich perten-it on straight! Oy niver tuk no more sions, an' yit 'e down't knowe nowt. tarnups. Hisu hand were that heavy! 'E be one o' that sort wot gew about Gin Oy wanted tarnups Oy tuk 'em off a-s'ying as they knowe, and when that some un else. Oy niver tuk no more comes to the push they down't knowe. o' hisnan' he know'd it! Oy did wuk for he five year, and by that same token I can tell yo he down't knowe nowt. Oy'm blessed if durin'

"The passon's readen' were powerful, but Oy were that tuk up Oy couldn't mind much o' wot he said.

Oy doubt 'tis allus pretty nigh the same, but Oy couldn't mind it much by reason that I were that dry. Lord, as Oy sot there Oy were that dry

a long established grave, marked by a recumbent cross. Sometimes her eyes rested on the grave at her feet, where violets, half hidden by dead leaves, "Yo mun be," put in an acquaint-nestled between the arms of the cross, ance. 'Gin ye gue to charch yo mun and then she looked again towards the be dry; charch-goers is allus dry." grave-diggers. She stooped and picked "But now," replied Jonas, in an a violet-one little touch of amethyst argumentative tone, "don't yew think in a setting of rich old gold. It was - as if 'twere so, seemly as they a sentimental whim which suddenly might git more goodness out of it ef touched her to pick a flower from they didn't go to it quite so dry? Don't the grave of one, and drop it, when the yo think so?" diggers were not looking, into the grave of the other. Then, with a quick movement, she resumed her old position, watching the diggers and the sun

now

"O' course, that were so! An' Oy'm a-thinkin' 'twas nigh as well Oy were dry -ef Tom know'd."

"Oy kean't s'y," returned the other, "but Oy mind, when Oy went to git married, Oy tould Tom (wot's gone) I were a-goin' to take my yong 'ooman set. to charch. 'Wa-al, Bill,' sez 'e, 'do She was no longer young; but in keep yoursel dry.' 'E sez, Yo mun some hearts sentiment never dies. be dry 'gin yo gue to charch for the She had passed her eightieth year, and passon to see ye." her hair, that was as white as rime frost, was gathered loosely back from a countenance that the hand of time had touched lovingly, as though to ripen, rather than deface her youth. Though she was lovely in her old age, her lips were almost too thin for beauty, and suggested a soul that would "be still, and murmur not" through the storms and oppressions of this life. Just then the touch of sadness added to the charm of a certain resignation in her air, and yet her lips parted in a smile.

A fresh comer entered the parlor who drew all the attention to himself, and Jonas relapsed into silence long and deep, till at length he rose and went home, although he was still somewhat dry. For the first time in his life there came over him a doubt as to the extent of Tom's sagacity—and with it the overpowering sense of loss-the vacuum, loneliness, and mystery of It was no longer the still open grave death, for maybe Tom had ceased to she saw, but a flower border, bright know. The new-comer to the inn par- with June roses and a thousand sumlor had still more to tell of Tom, for he mer flowers. A garden gate swung on had heard the contents of the will, and its hinges, and shut again with a loud therefore knew what would become of click, and a young man came towards the farm and the other worldly prop-her. What he said was not very erty. But there were certain other fluently spoken, but he made his meanthings about Tom that only one person ing clear enough, and put the question knew, and they came back to her mind straightly. And she answered it as she when she stood by his open grave. felt, and carelessly as to how he took it. When he appealed against her refusal, she coldly advised him to try elsewhere.

"It shall be you or no one," was his terse reply, and he repeated it again as he left the gate. "You or no oneremember."

All the mourners were gone, and the crowd had vanished, leaving only the bruised turf to show where it had passed. She still lingered in the churchyard, though the diggers were rapidly shovelling the earth into the grave. The afternoon was closing in, and the sun was shining like a jewel And she remembered it now - havbehind the golden filigree of the wych- ing well-nigh forgotten it all these elms which flanked the graveyard on years. With a touch of remorse, she the west. She stood a little apart, by wondered if she had been right, or

even kind. Just at that time her feelings were engrossed with one who had come to her so differently-in all the odor of sanctity, with the taint of consumption in his blood. How well she remembered every line of his face, every shade in its expression, as he stood in his white linen, that is "the righteousness of saints," reading the alternate verses of the exquisite poetry of psalm lyrics of old. Then he had coughed himself into his grave, and lay there under the white cross.

young and flower-strewn, and the sun shines over all, then it is so hard to see the truth. We do not dwell upon skeletons-rocks are poetical figures. The world must be as we fancy it, and there are fairies in every flower. St. George and his dragon are facts, and saints are real, and miracles matters of course, and angels at hand, whenever we require them, to take us to their care. It is afterwards that questions It is only when frosty Time has laid his thievish fingers upon the gladThere had never been any love pas-ness, and the beauty falls apart — when sages between them. Perhaps they the twilight of the long night deepens, had been too shy and timid; but they it is then that we cry so bitterly for both knew the flutter and the flush, lights kindled by human hands, because and there was much innocent dallying mingled with church-bells, the almshouses, choir practices, and the like. Then he died—and that was the thin thread of sentiment in her life.

And Tom Lawes? She had almost forgotten about him. They had lived in the same village so many years. They were neighbors, but they rarely met. His path in life lay to the markets and fairs, and hers was still to the church and the almshouses.

arise.

God has left us in the darkness alone. The figures hurrying past us are dim in the atmosphere of uncertainty. We know them not, although they bear a strange resemblance to the friends of long ago. They would not understand our language if we hailed them — here, where we stumble sadly in the gathering darkness. Then in the lightning flash of death, when God sends his messenger of light, it is a supreme moment, and in that last struggle the mask is laid aside. The features look, in their rigidity, as they did in the days of youth; and then we know more of our brother man, and of the supreme mystery which we call God, than was shown to us by the beacon of religion, the revolving lights of science, or the flickering torch of philosophy.

Now that he was dead, she wondered, was it mere habit which had kept him single, or did he do it on her account? Somewhat dimly, she began to see herself how solitary her life was. Was his so too? She had despised him on account of his mundane tastes and material existence. Now she felt surprised to see how many mourned him - how missed, aye, respected he was. A vague regret rose within her that the course of this world was not so ordered that he might have drawn a little closer to her life, and a suspicion began to dawn upon her that her own might have been fuller and more whole-prize of this hard won knowledge ? some for some of his strong sense.

Nothing in life causes that strange revulsion which follows death. It is the silence which speaks. And who can tell how much more wisdom may be in that voice than in all the songs of life?

For in the heyday of life, when our mouths are filled with laughter and our hearts with song, when the world is

These things are the guerdon of old age, the reward for long life spent bravely in the world, the recompense for many sorrows, many tears, and many a precious cross; and who shall say that anything experience or imag ination can offer equals in value the

These were her thoughts when the vestry door opened and the vicar came out across the turf towards her, She hoped he had not seen her drop that violet. Not for the world would she have had any human being witness that action. She ranked it now among her follies, and smiled to think she should be so foolish in old age.

He was utterly ignorant of her feel

ings, for he had not seen the episode,

"Everything in his life was foreign

and came towards her with some sur-to my experience."

prise.

"Yes. It was a business which he

"What, you here, Miss Mayhew! inherited from his father, and they What a crowd there was! I did not have lived like this for many generations."

expect so many."

"Tom Lawes was very well known,"

she answered.

"I suppose so. I must own I was surprised to see how many appeared to feel his death; and he was a man who lived without God in the world."

"He was very kind-hearted.”

"I think he must have been. Yet his way of life was almost heathen. He never came to church, and I saw very little of him. Still, he never opposed me not actively, at least.” "It never was the way with his family to come to church.”

"No; only those boys. And that's their mother's doing."

"And the surprise of the whole family."

After a pause the vicar asked, "Did you know him, Miss Mayhew?"

"I know him! Yes, very well, years ago. He was a friend of my brother's-till they had a difference. After that we did not see so much of him."

There was a pause. The grave was full, and the diggers had only to shovel up the loose earth and make a tidy hillock.

"I fear he was a godless man," said the vicar. And as the other did not respond, he added sadly, "I fear it may have been my fault. I did not know how to approach him. I am so ignorant of the ways of such men's lives.

God knows, there may have been something he felt."

From The New Review. THE CASE FOR SWEDEN.

[THE work of a member of the Swedish Parliament, this statement, which is adapted to English uses from a publication by the Swedish National Association, may be accepted as setting forth with an approach to finality (1) the points at issue between Sweden and Norway; (2) the concessions which the stronger member of the Union is prepared to make; and (3) the terms on which she is willing to make them. It is hoped that the document, apart from its special purpose, may have a more than fugitive interest for a nation still menaced so they tell us with Home Rule.-W. E. H.]

THOUGH Swedes and Norwegians would seem geographically predestined to march peacefully side by side, it is unluckily notorious that the differences between the two races have grown graver during the last few years. We Swedes looked forward to the end of 1894 as the time when we might come to a definite understanding upon two points: Norway's actual demands, and her general position as regards the Union with Sweden. The hour has struck, and, though nothing could exceed the interest shown in the recent election by the whole Norwegian peo

The diggers scraped their boots against their spades, and proceeded to lay on the fresh mound the wreaths and flowers which had been left at the lych-gate. The senders of these tokens betrayed their taste in the style of the mementoes, for instead of the cus-ple, we are still as much as ever in the tomary circlet or cross, the stephanotis and heliotrope were bound upon wire frames in the shape of horse-collars, and violets were massed into the form of horse-shoes.

dark as to the Norwegian claim.

There is, nevertheless, a means of avoiding consequences disastrous to our common prosperity, and the expedient lies in our own hand. There are

— firstly — vital interests which Sweden | made considerable pecuniary conceswill never surrender; and there are sions to her partner. The sole justifisecondly-minor issues upon which cation of this policy is that it was compromise is possible. These points thought advantageous to Swedish inmust be defined with energy and terests; for the main concern of every above all — with unanimity. The vital government is the welfare of its own issues for Sweden are embodied in a people. To sacrifice this welfare in code of fundamental laws: the result of the interests of another race is indecenturies of political development. Be- fensible; and the pretensions of Norfore we abandon to any but a Swede way needs must be examined from the the dignified and responsible post of Swedish point of view. foreign minister, it behoves us to ensure that the change be accompanied by provisions which shall safeguard the inviolability of the Constitution, and shall leave us with undiminished resources for self-defence. Writing from the Swedish standpoint in the interests of the Union and in conformity with the aims of the Swedish National Association, I shall strive in these pages to show the irreducible minimum which such safeguards must include.

Among other reciprocal recriminations, the Swedes have often accused the Norwegians of a gross contempt for the existing law, of ignoring the claims of justice, and of rank ingratitude. The Norwegians reply that there is no debt of gratitude, and as a controversial retort the answer is sufficient. Yet it is undeniable that, thanks to Swedish policy, Norway has (a) shaken off the Danish yoke, (b) that she has acquired complete independence in all local matters, and (c) that she has received further concessions which have coutributed to her present prosperity. None the less is it true that gratitude is not necessarily due to those whose policy benefits you. And, in any case, one must candidly admit that solicitude for Norway's welfare not the prime motor of Swedish diplomacy. When Sweden, abandoning all hope of recovering either Finland or the south Baltic Provinces, induced Denmark to resign Norway under the Kiel Treaty, her aim was less to secure Norwegian liberty than to obtain compensation for the cession of Finland. The terms of alliance were proposed by her in the hope of grappling Norway to the Union with stronger hooks than any forged by force; and to achieve this end she also

was

No Norwegian claim - however specious on the face of it can be entertained if it emperil the integrity of the Union, if it diminish the defensive strength of the two nations, or if it restrict the power of Sweden to safeguard her own interests. In accordance with the Act of Union, the separation which exists as regards home affairs is superseded in relation to foreign affairs by strict unity under Sweden's headship; hence the foreign minister of both countries has invariably been a member of the Swedish Cabinet, responsible in the last resort to the Swedish constituencies, and to them alone. But, since Norway has arrived at the consciousness of her own importance, two new proposals have been made: (1) that there should be a separate foreign minister for Norway ; and (2) that, while maintaining the Foreign Office as it stands, the administration should be so re-organized that Norwegians should be eligible for the post of foreign minister, which official should, further, be responsible to both Parliaments, instead of, as now, to the Swedish Parliament alone.

The first proposal, fathered by the Norwegian Left, amounts to a repeal of the Union and that under circumstances which would cover Sweden with dishonor. The alternative, for which the Norwegian Right is responsible, is another matter. That the foreign minister should be a joint official, instead of a Swedish minister, is not necessarily a proposal endangering the Union; and it may even be argued that under its adoption due restrictions would tend to strengthen the Union. The undeniable difference is, however, less than appears at first sight. The