end produced these singular forms."

If such be the effect of sand when urged only by the action of air, it is not difficult to imagine how much this power is increased by the action of water. Under the pressure of such an agency, the sand and debris in time wear away the hardest rock, producing wonderful physical chang

es.

On an examination of the Falls of Niagara, men of science have come to the conclusion that that magnificent cascade has even within historic times sensibly receded. This enormous volume of water is thrown over a mass of limestone rock, which lies in horizontal strata; below the limestone there is a thick mass of soft shale, which crumbles away rapidly, so that the limestone above overhangs it forty feet or more, and from time to time fragments of the superior rock are carried down. Prof. Henry, of the Smithsonian Institution, says: "In viewing the position of the Falls, and the features of the country round, it is impossible not to be impressed with the idea that this great natural raceway has been formed by the continued action of the irresistible Niagara; and that the Falls, beginning at Lewiston, have in the course of ages worn back the rocky strata to their present site." The same view is taken by Sir Charles Lyell, M. Agassiz, Professor Ramsay, and Professor Tyndall.

I remember once seeing an alabaster statue of Queen Zenobia, brought from the city of Palmyra, the old "Tadmor of the Desert," founded by King Solomon. It stood within the walls of a mausoleum, the burial-place of one of the patrician families of our land. Round the walls of this necropolis were niches with statues, etc., collected by successive members of the family, who from time to time had enriched the city of the dead with contributions

from many lands-relics from Rome, from Thebes, from classic Athensurns and pillars, marbles and brasses, the torso and the full-length statue.

The contour of the alabaster figure above spoken of was noble and dignified; but all the finer touches of the chisel, all the delicate outlines of grace and beauty, both as regards features and drapery, which th sculptor's art had bestowed, were, by the action of the sand of the desert through long ages all but obliterated.

LOSSES.

Upon the white sea-sand
There sat a pilgrim band,

Telling the losses their lives had known,
While evening waned away

From breezy cliff and bay, And the strong tide went out with a weary

moan.

One spake, with quivering lip,
Of a fair freighted ship,

With all his household to the deep gone down.

But one had wilder woe,

For a fair face long ago

Lost in the darker depths of a great town. There were some who mourned their youth

With a most loving truth,

For its brave hopes and memories ever green;

And one upon the west

Turned an eye that would not rest,
For far-off hills whereon its joys had been.
Some talked of vanished gold;
Some of proud honors told;
Some spake of friends that were their
trust no more;

And one of a green grave
Beside a foreign wave,

That made him sit so lonely on the shore.
But when their tales were done,
There spake among them one,
A stranger, seeming from all sorrow free,
Sad losses have ye met,
But mine is heavier yet,
For a believing heart hath gone from me."
"Alas!" these pilgrims said,
"For the living and the dead,
For fortune's cruelty, for love's sure cross,
For the wrecks of land and sea,
But however it came to thee-
Thine, stranger, is life's last and heaviest
loss.'

AUNT LOIS AND HER FAMILY.

A SERIAL STORY FOR GIRLS.

BY REV. MARY C. BILLINGS.

CHAPTER VII.

"Oh, Auntie!" I exclaimed, as I hurried to the kitchen, "a gentleman in the parlor wants to see you. He has sent out his card; look at it! I believe he is some relative." She stood at the sink washing her hands, and I held it up before her. "He is the strange gentleman the girls spoke about yesterday I know, for he has a silvery beard and pleasant blue eyes as they described.

on the

The looked at the name card without speaking; then, wiping her hands, hastily took off her apron and started for the parlor. Before shutting the kitchen door she turned and said:

"You look at the pies in the oven and take them out when done."

I knew she was excited, but had, as was her way, put a constraint upon herself. As for myself, I was all in a flutter of expectancy, but turned my attention to the unfinished kitchen work, thinking as I did so, "well, Auntie is always in a neat costume. Whatever she is doing she looks respectable."

The rest of the family were out of doors, and as there was work needing immediate attention, I applied myself to that, and refrained from calling them to tell the news, as I would have been glad to have done.

Presently Aunt Lois appeared, saying in a hurried voice,

"Mr. Harcourt is a distant relative

from England, and wants to see you all. Go out and call the girls and Roy, and I'll take the baking out of the oven."

I ran down to the garden, and told Janet and 'Roy, they were wanted in the house immediately;" then over to the hennery where Luella was

busy gathering eggs, and told her she was needed right away in the house.

"What's the matter, Sis? you are all out of breath;" Lu' said, as basket in hand, she followed me back to the house.

"O, nothing, only there's some one in the parlor who wants to see the entire clan of Foresters."

"Who is it?" she queried.

I did not enlighten her, only replying, "Some stranger, I believe."

"These are my cousins, Miss Janet, Luella, Grace, and Master El Roy Forester," Lois said somewhat formally, as she introduced us to Mr. Harcourt.

ex

What a sweet smile he gave us as he greeted us in a cordial, yet somewhat courtly manner. When 'Rov was presented, Mr. Harcourt claimed with animation. "Ah, my dear boy; I am truly delighted to meet you!" Turning to Aunt Lois whose face was lighted up with a happy smile, showing to us who knew her, unmistakable signs of pride in her young family.

He said, "This little cousin is wonderfully like my son, who is now out in Denver finishing the business which I left for him to attend to. I think I can see the Deadwood looks in you all. I believe we are a peculiar family about that; certain especial traits marking them all in some distinguishable manner.

How cordial and agreeable he was! Aunt Lois exerted herself to the utmost to do proper honors for her guest; and he reciprocated her hospitable intent, by interesting himself in the old house and all its belongings, including the then present occupants. He had come to the vil lage expressly to visit the old home of Sir Fletcher Deadwood and his descendants, whose history he knew from records kept in his own family

in England. He was much gratified to find that the portrait of Sir Fletcher had not gone out of the family, and when informed by Lois that "she feared it might have been sold by one of the unworthy Deadwood descendants but for the interdiction making such an act a forfeture of the estate." He commended the wisdom that inserted such a clause in the original will devising the estate always with this proviso.

After a pleasant interview, our guest, declining our warm invitation to remain and dine with us, saying he had urgent letters to write, and that he was expected at the hotel, left, promising to take tea with us, and pass the night at the old house, that he might be able to say that he had slept under the roof of Sir Fletcher Deadwood's American home. He had been visiting the old cemetery before calling on us, and "was greatly interested," as he remarked, "upon the family history written. there." This was a memorable visit, and was enjoyed by us all. Janet and Luella did themselves credit in getting up an æsthetic little supper and breakfast; 'Roy dear, coming in on the floral decorations, with delicately pleasing effect. Our guest slept on the ancient mahogany bedstead, which it was probable to suppose had been that used by the

founder of the house.

Our cousin he insisted that we should so consider him-telling us that there was a similar bedstead in his house, the old manorial mansion in Devonshire.

We congratulated ourselves that with the help of Auntie, we had fitted the guest-room up-stairs very prettily, and with little expense, the tester of the bedstead with its white fringed drapings, being particularly satisfactory. When he left us, we parted from him with regret, feeling

that we had known him years, instead of the few hours he had been with us.

Myron, who had been over to pay his respects to the English representative of the house, took him down to the railroad station in his business wagon, and we all stood in the door waving him an adieu.

"He is such a lovely gentleman," said 'Roy, with animation. "I am glad I put a nosegay in his buttonhole, and gave him a little painting."

He had expressed himself pleased with our dear boy's efforts in painting; gave him some good advice in regard to colors, methods, etc., and advised him to continue in the same line he had chosen, which he had no doubt would bring him success.

I had reason to remember this visit, for it occurred on my eighteenth birthday. The family had prepared a pretty present for me for that occasion; a gem of a writing-desk; small, compact, and furnished with everything needful in the way of stationery, even including a penwiper of Luella's make. This had been purchased unknown to me, and kept hidden away, while the united efforts of the girls and 'Roy had been directed in the way of its embellishment. Great was my delight at this unexpected and long-coveted gift.

"You know you are a young lady now, of eighteen, and we cannot give you any more juvenile presents," said they.

I was quite satisfied to be considered of age, in being the recipient of a gift so valuable to me. But this birthday was memorable for another gift. Sir Francis--we had ascertained bis rank-said, as he parted from us at the front door, "I understand that this is the birthday of my young cousin;" and then he took my hand to express his kind wishes on the occasion, and bid me good-bye,

he drew off a heavy plain gold ring from his fourth finger, and slipping it over one of mine, said:

"This ring is one that belonged to my mother, and her name was Grace;' wear it for her sake, and may your life be as happy as was hers."

Something came into my throat and choked my voice, as I attempted to express my thanks. Involuntarily I put up my lips to his face, and kissed him; then was able to articulate, "I kiss you for your mother's sake!" It was done in a moment and left me frightened and nervous at my temerity. That kiss has influenced all of my subsequent life.

Naturally, there was a great deal of interesting matter to talk over respecting our distinguished relative; who we ascertained was a member of parliament and owner of "Harcourt Manor” which had come to him from his mother, who was a daughter of Sir Harcourt Deadwood.

Aunt Lois had talked with him freely about the old stock of Deadwoods, showing herself more conversant with their history and traits of character than we had supposed her to be. She also gave him to understand that she considered a necessity for active labor a positive blessing compared with the indolence and lack of energy, not to mention the extravagance and gambling of two or three of the family which had entailed poverty upon their descendants, without reducing their pride." She found a sympathizing listener in Sir Francis, who was wide-awake to the faults, as well as to the excellencies of our progenitors. He commended Auntie for the course she had pursued, for herself and us. was delighted with our apparent health and strength, and agreed with her, that our being transplanted into the country, and leading active, out

He

of-door lives, was the cause of our favorable appearance.

He possessed advanced ideas in respect to the "advantage," as he termed it, "accruing to women, as well as to the opposite sex, of having some definite business in life, some object claiming their thought and effort."

All this was balm to Aunt Lois, who had feared he might he one, who in view of his position, would look upon actual labor as degrading. He had been visiting our western country where he had previously purchased a large tract of land for his youngest son, who had inherited a delicate constitution, and he wisely considered that a life of a few years at least on new soil, with the necessity of being out of doors and "roughing it on a ranch," would be of great benefit to him.

This had been a successful venture. The young man had now been in Colorado two years, and was about coming East for a visit.

"As rugged and hearty a specimen as you ever saw," said his father proudly.

"There was some business at Denver requiring his immediate atten tion or he would have accompanied me here. I expect to meet him in New York, where we shall embark for England. On his return to America-for he has decided to make this country his home-I think he will be pleased to pay his respects to his relatives here."

When Aunt Lois received a book of the geneleagy of the Deadwoods, which our guest had promised to send her, she openly expressed her gratification upon possessing it. Naturally, we girls had a little amusement in seeing her pore over her pedigree, but fortunately had the sense not to express any surprise at it.

Marthy, who was naturally com

municative, enlighted us upon the opinion expressed by some of the villagers respecting our late guest, and relative. She was over to consult Aunt Lois about something in the house keeping line, which she deferred to her judgment, when she said:

"Myron was a tellin' me last night, that some of the folks down to the Center was mightily exercised about your havin' sech a great English genleman here they called him 'a Lord,' he said—to see you, and a relation too. They said, like enough you'd feel so proud you wouldn't asSociate with common folks no more. Myron said it raised his dander right up, and he told 'em · 'you don't know Miss Fenton, nor them young ladies, ef you think that way about 'em. They ain't none of that kind. They've got good blood and no mistake, and that's the very reason they won't be actin, like fools.' Myron said that shet 'em up; and he thinks it wan't really anybody that thought so, unly them Stevenses, and John Baggses folks. They are kind of envious creeturs; mean well enough too, but I s'pose it's born with 'em, and they can't help it."

A fortnight later, Myron brought us a box marked "Mistress Lois Fenton, Deadwood House," with the name of our village on it. It had been forwarded from New York. Myron said he was down at the landing when the New York boat came in, and saw the box put off, so he brought it along. It was from Sir Francis, and contained handsome presents for us all. 'Roy was in ecstacy over a fine case of artist's materials. In a sealed envelope directed to Lois, was a check for $200, with a note in which he expressed himself highly pleased with Roy's talent, and a desire that she would accept the check to use in having him receive such instruction

and advantages as would facilitate his progress in his favorite pursuit. He had shown the little panel pictture which 'Roy had given him, to an artist friend in New York, an excellent judge of such work, and he had pronounced it a creditable production, and for a lad of fourteen, showing remarkable talent that de. served to be fostered and cultivated.

I had never before seen Aunt Lois lose her self-control when she read the note worded so delicately in presenting the money for our darling's benefit. She could not refrain from

tears.

"To think," she said, in a choked voice, "that he has sent just what I've been wanting, means for our dear boy to perfect himself in his work."

Truly, it was a providential blessing. From it we can date a course of study, and the advantages which have resulted in placing our beloved brother in the front rank of his line. as an artist. For at that time, though we had prospered in our family, we could not spare the money necessary to give him the advantages of culture which in time would fit him to take a position as a first-class artist in the line of work he had chosen.

I was looking over my diary the other day, and will in concluding this sketch of family life, make a few

extracts.

June 18.-We have had a quiet wedding in the old parlor to-day, and how sweetly the bride, our dear Janet, looked in her simple white muslin robe. What a bloom on her cheeks and heavenly light in her deep blue eyes. Her bride-groom may well be proud of her. She is sterling gold. Best of all, Mr. Forsythe, who has been advanced to a higher position in the bank, bas promised to spend the summer with us at the old homestead. I really don't