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as, staggering back, he fell, wounded to death, through the open window. The bishop looked out after him and Princess Osra heard a great splash in the water of the inoat below.

Then came up through the window the clatter of a hundred feet and the confused sound of men talking. And they cried, “ The bishop has killed him! The bishop has killed him!”

Cried the bishop from the window, “Yes, I have killed him. So perish all such villains !”

“Is he dead ?” asked the princess.

“He is dead. God have mercy on him. I killed him : if it were a sin, pray God forgive me."

Then suddenly she threw herself on her knees and seizing hold of his hand, she kissed first the Episcopal ring that he wore and then his hand. But he raised her hastily and knelt before her, kissing her hands many times. Then he raised his eyes—met her glance and smiled. For an instant they were thus, then the bishop rose to his feet, standing before her with bent head and eyes that sought the ground.

“It is by God's infinite goodness and divine permission that I hold my sacred office," said he. I would that I were more worthy of it, but to-day I have taken pleasure in killing a man.”

“And in saving a lady, sir, who will always count you among her dearest friends and defenders. Is God angry with such a deed as that?"

“May He forgive us all our sins," said the bishop gravely; but what other sins he had in mind he did not say, nor did the princess ask him.

A Study in Dialect.

MARIETTA HOLLEY. Adapted from “ Samantha at the Centennial," published by American Publishing Company, Hartford, Conn. Used by permission of the author.

AFTER dinner the Widder Doodle went upstairs and laid down for a nap, as she makes the practice of doin' every day; and glad enough was I to see her go. And after she had laid down and our ears had got rested off, and I got the work all done up, and Tirzah Ann and me had sot down to our sewin'--she was doin' some fine sewin' and I laid to and helped her—as we sot there all alone by ourselves she began on me, and her face lengthened down a considerable number of inches longer than I had ever seen it as she went on.

She was afraid Whitfield didn't think so much of her as he used to; he didn't act a mite as he used to when he was a courtin' of her. Didn't kiss her so much in a week now, as he used to one Sunday night. Didn't set and look at her for hours and hours at a time, as he did then. Didn't seem to be half as 'fraid of her wings spreadin' out, and takin' her up to heaven. Didn't seem to be a bit afraid of her goin' up bodily. Didn't call her “seraph” any more, or “ blessed old honeycake,” or “heavenly sweetness,” or “ angel-pie." About all he called her now besides Tirzah Anu was “my dear.”

I see in a minute the cause of the extra deprested look onto her face that day ; I see in a minute“ where the shoe pinched,” as the poet says. And I see here was a chance for me to do good; and I spoke up real earnest-like, but considerably calm, and says I :

“Tirzah Ann, that is a first-rate word, and your husband, Whitfield Minkley, hits the nails on the head every time he says it. •Dear!' that is jest what you are to him, and when he puts the 'my' onto it that tells the hull story ; you are dear, and you are hisen, that is the hull on't." Says I, in a real solemn and almost camp-meetin' tone, “Tirzah Ann you are a sailin' by that rock now that the happiness of a great many hearts founder on, that a great many lifeboats are wrecked on.” Says I, “ Lots of happy young hearts have sailed smilin' out of the harbor of single blessedness, hit ag'inst that rock and gone down ; don't you be one of 'em,” says I; “ don't make a shipwreck of the happiness of T. A. Minkley, late Allen ; histe up the sail of commonsense and go round the rock with flyin' colors, and,” says I, in agitated tones, “ I'll help you, I'll put my shoulder blades to the wheel.” And I continued in almost tremblin' tones—as I trimmed off the edge of the linen cambric, and went to overcastin' of it:

“I never could bear to see anybody want to set down and stand up at the same time,” says I, “ it always looked so unreasonable to me. And,” says I, “ Tirzah Ann, you are in the same place ; you want to be courted, and you want to be married at the same time; you want a husband and you want a bo out of the same man, simultaneous, as it were.”

Says I: “Truly we can't have everything we want at one time. There is a time for apple trees to blow out, rosy color-sweet with honey bees a-hummin'round 'em; and there is a time for the ripe fruit, and apple sass. We can't have good sleighin' in hot weather, or can't be drawed out to a peach tree to eat ripe peaches on a hand sled. Slidin' down hill is fun, but you can't slide down hill over sweet clover blows, for clover and snow don't blow out at the same time. And you can't have peace, and rest, and quiet of mind, at the same time with delerious enjoyment, and highlarious mirth.

“There is as many kinds of happiness as 'there is stars in the heavens,' and no two stars are alike ; they all differ from each other, in their particular kind of glory.

“Now courtin' is considerable fun, suthin' on

the plan of catchin' a bird, kind o'resky and uncert'in but excitin' like, and considerable happyfyin'. To set down after a good supper, contented and quiet, by a bright fireside with your knittin' work, and your affectionate pardner fast asleep and snorin' in the arm chair opposite, is another kind of happiness, nothin' delerious nor highlarious about it, but considerable comfortin' and consolin' after all. Now you have got a good affectionate husband, Tirzah Ann, a man that will look out for your comfort, do well by you, and be a good provider; and you mustn't expect him to be the lover ; I mean, you mustn't expect him to go through with all the performances he used to when he was tryin' to get you ; why it is as unreasonable as anything in the world can be unreasonable.

“Now," says I, “there's your pa and me, Tirzah Ann; we have lived together in the neighborhood of twenty years, and we are attached to each other with a firm and cast-iron affection, our love for each other towers up like a pillow. But if that man should go to talkin' to me as he used to when he came a-courtin' me I'd shet him up in the sinoke house, for I should be afraid of him, I'll be hanged if I shouldn't; I should think he was a luny.

“I s'pose he thought it was necessary to go through with all them mysterious, curious performances-talkin' strange, praisin' me to the

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