the section of Fall River now known as Globe Village. "The oldest mill in Fall River" is still standing; its stone walls apparently are as substantial as when they first enclosed spinning machinery, and the city is fortunate in having the ancient Durfee mill to exhibit to visitors for the purpose of showing the remarkable advances made in construction during the past one hundred years.

The fact that Pawtucket was the place in which Samuel Slater built the first practical spinning machinery known in the United States need not interfere with plans for a creditable observance of the centenary of cotton manufacturing in Fall River. All enterprising cities are interested in obtaining the right kind of publicity; in some sections money is expended freely for advertising purposes. A century of cotton spinning in Fall River affords excellent opportunities for exploiting the resources and advantages of the greatest city of spindles on the American continent. Pawtucket obtained much valuable publicity in 1890 out of its cotton centennial, and the new generation that has grown up since then knows nothing of the event celebrated on the west bank of the Blackstone River, except from books and papers or conversations with participants. Suitable observance of the first century of its textile industry in Fall River, therefore, will appeal directly to thousands who have heard only vague references to the invaluable work of Samuel Slater at Pawtucket Falls, and also will interest all who are familiar with the exhibit of progress made twenty-one years ago by the enthusiastic people of Pawtucket. Although Rhode Island has the credit of starting the cotton industry, Fall River has the distinction of surpassing all other cities and towns in the number of spindles. This achievement is one that calls for an elaborate and dignified centennial programme which will appeal to the entire country and not to New England alone.

It is fitting that Fall River should honor the name of Durfee and at the same time give an ample demonstration of the supremacy of Massachusetts men and methods in the cotton manufacturing world.

Providence Journal.

GREYSLAER: A ROMANCE OF THE MOHAWK

G

CHAPTER XXVIII

ESTRANGEMENT

LAD rumors of the success which had finally crowned the hunter Balt in his wild-wood quest preceded the arrival of the popular young Max among his old friends and neighbors. It were difficult to define the emotions of Alida when the news of his deliverance from captivity and death first reached her ears. For, though joy and delight for Greyslaer's escape first swallowed up all other feelings, yet painful reflections succeeded, and doubts and fears crept into her mind, to alloy this generous burst of heartfelt sensibility.

She felt, she owned to herself, that, despite the difference of years (and most slight was that disparity), she could have loved her youthful worshipper. But this thought had only been admitted into her heart when she believed the barrier of the grave was closed between them. How was it now with her when Greyslaer lived? lived, while a barrier more hideous even than that of the grave must keep them apart forever! But why dwell now upon her past relations with Greyslaer? Why imbitter her hours by musing upon their possible future position toward each other?

Long months had intervened since the passionate declaration of her almost boyish lover. There was time enough even for him to have forgotten his youthful fancy, or exchanged it for another, if some fair face had presented itself to him when away from her. Besides, had she not revealed that to him which must crush all hope upon the instant? Surely he could not have gone on feeding with vain dreams of what might be his misplaced and most unfortunate attachment— he had not consumed a captive's long and lonely hours in such fruitless and imbittered musings upon his baffled affections? His sorrows must have been those only of a young and ardent mind, that grieves to find itself cut off, in the season of its vigor, from the paths of ambition

which men so love to tread; his dreams, only those which will crowd into a mind fertile as his when planning his escape from present evila prisoner's dream of home and friends, of free will and unrestricted motion, and the bright world which fresh as ever, was to be enjoyed again.

Alida hoped that it might be so; yet, she grew sad even in so hoping! A sensible and modest mind is not merely flattered, but substantially raised in its own estimation by the sincere and unaffected attachment of another as well constituted as itself, even when it cannot return the passion. And though it can hardly with precision, be said either to grieve or humble us when that regard passes away, yet there is something of sorrow, something of humiliation, when we become assured of its decay.

In the meantime the presumed heiress of the Hawksnest had not wanted for admirers, though the natural imperiousness of her disposition prepared a haughty rebuff for more than one who made haste to address the beautiful orphan, even in her first secluded months of mourning. The advances of some of these suitors were well known in the neighborhood, and their supposed rejection, when they successively withdrew from the field, became very naturally the talk of the country people, who, when Greyslaer's return from captivity was bruited abroad, unanimously agreed that Fate had intended that he should be the happy man. "Surely," they argued, "young Max would never take possession of the estate which Miss Alida had so long enjoyed as his nearest kinswoman, and the co-heir of Mad Derrick, without offering first to make her his wife? And where was the girl in the valley that would refuse him? Proud and uppish as she was, old De Roos, though a respectable man enough, and the old friend of Sir William, was no such great shakes, after all, that his daughter might turn up her nose upon the only son of Colonel Greyslaer that was."

As for Max himself, it was agreed, without any dissent that he would seek a wife forthwith. He was the last of his name; and, though sternly republican in his political principles, democracy entered not into his ideas of the social relations, and he was believed to inherit from his

stately old father sufficient pride of family not to wish the name of Greyslaer to expire with himself.

Max, in the meanwhile, wholly unconscious that he and his affairs. were furnishing the only subject of gossip to the good wives of the neighborhood, now that the storm of war had rolled away from the valley for a season, and left leisure for such harmless themes, disappointed every one by the quietude of his proceedings. A lawyer from the county town calling upon Miss De Roos, informed her that Captain Greyslaer, being about to join his regiment, which belonged to a brigade of volunteers that had recently been draughted into the service of Congress, he had no idea of taking possession of the Hawksnest, and that Miss De Roos would add to the obligations which Captain Greyslaer already felt himself under to her late lamented father, if she would continue to preside over an establishment which must otherwise be broken up, and perhaps fall to ruins; for the aged housekeeper was now too infirm for the charge, and Captain Greyslaer was at a loss what disposition to make of his other servants in times so disturbed. "The captain," said the lawyer, looking round upon the ancient furniture, "seems to have his heart bent upon keeping these old sticks together, and there is no one but you, madam, to whom he can look, as one feeling the same sort of interest in the place as that which he cherishes."

The latter part of his agent's statement was enforced by a note from Greyslaer, containing an eloquent appeal to her on the score of their mutual childish associations, and the impracticability of his making any humane disposition of his black servants; for manumitting thema resource which had suggested itself-would in the existing state of the country, be in fact, the cruellest thing he could do, there being now no employment for laborers of that class.

Alida, who had not been left unprovided for by her father, and was, therefore, not thus rendered dependent upon the bounty of a distant kinsman, who stood toward her in the delicate relation of a discarded lover, scarcely hesitated in her determination. She would remain beside the graves of her father and sister, and consider herself as mistress of the Hawksnest until Captain Greyslaer was prepared to enter

into his possessions; but it must be as a tenant, upon the same terms that her father had held the property.

A month or more had elapsed after the adjustment of this delicate matter, and Greyslaer, writing weekly to her from Albany and New York, whither his professional duty had led him, managed always in his letters to preserve a tone of easy friendliness, such as had prevailed between them in the younger days of their intercourse. This composure upon paper, however, vanished entirely when at last they met. The frank cordiality which Max assumed, was rather overdoing nature, as Alida thought when she observed his rapid utterance and restless motions; and Greyslaer was conscious that Alida trembled with agitation when he smilingly proffered the ordinary salute which fashion so inconsistently permitted among the polite, considering the otherwise. ceremonious manners of that formal day. They each seemed laboring under a continual exertion to maintain the tone in which Max had so happily commenced their correspondence, and which had hitherto been successfully kept up between them. But the restraint which either felt at heart must soon have convinced them that they mutually stood in a false position toward each other.

A famous modern sayer of apothegms tells us that friendship may sometimes warm into love, but love can subside into friendship never; and an ancient one goes still farther, by making hatred the only change of which love is capable. As indifference will often supervene to the most violent passion, the creed of the latter is manifestly absurd; but there is something of truth in the proverb of the former; for though the sentiment of friendship, a feeling of the warmest and kindest regard, may indeed exist where love has once been, yet the calm relation of friends, with all its easy and pleasurable frankness of intercourse, can hardly grow up between two parties where love has once been the source of interest to either, and that love has been once avowed. There must be some lurking mortification, if not some secret trace of sorrow, on one side or the other; a jealousy of mutual respect, a quickness to take offence, and, above all, the mournful memory of former passages, endeared only in recollection, perhaps, by their being associated with the halcyon season of youth and hope, but still endeared to it; there must