“See here, Gooding, if both you and Harry will promise me never to say a word about this confounded trick, I will give you a check for three hundred dollars on the spot.” “No, I must have four hundred and twenty-six dollars, the principal and interest. Nothing less,” returned Gooding firmly. “You have acknowledged the debt in the presence of Mr. Williams, and if it is not paid by to-morrow twelve o’clock, I shall commence suit against you. If I receive the money before that time we will keep this little matter quiet; if suit is brought, all will come out on the trial.” “As you please,” said Jenkins angrily, turning away and entering his house. Before twelve o’clock on the next day, however, Jenkins’ clerk called in at the store of Gooding, and paid him four hundred and twenty-six dollars, for which he took his receipt in full for all demands to date. The two men were never afterward on terms of sufficient intimacy to ride in the same wagon together. Whether Gooding and his clerk kept the matter a secret, as they promised, we don’t know. It is very certain, that it was known all over town in less than a week, and soon after was told in the newspapers as a most capital joke. * * * * * THE LIFTED VEIL. BY MISS H. E. GRANNIS. A voice of music, borne by fragrant gales, And echoing softly to the dimpled waves, Stole from the bosom of Hesperia’s vales, Whose jeweled sands the flashing water laves, ’Mid shadowy banks, and bright enchanted isles, And fairy bowers, where joys own summer smiles. Sweet as a spirit’s song it rose and fell On the rich air, o’erburdened with perfume; Each varying cadence, or voluptuous swell, Far-breathing o’er one wilderness of bloom, Through princely gardens ne’er by mortal drest, Amid the broad savannas of the west. A bark was gliding down the silvery stream That claims its birth from far Itasca’s fount, And bids its waves o’er many a valley gleam, And join the well-springs of full many a mount, Till, proud, at length, Columbia’s wealth to drain, It sweeps, deep-freighted, to the Mexican main. About that vessel’s prow the foam-wreaths hung, And pearls were glancing in her wake behind; Fair silken curtains from her casements swung, And banners wooed aloft the balmy wind; And where rich lamps ’mid graceful arches gleamed O’er gilded walls, the gorgeous sunlight streamed. The turtle dove had hushed her plain on shore,— The whirring locusts of the woods were still— The listening willows leaned the waters o’er— While drooped the blue-eyed hare-bell with a thrill Through all its filmy foliage, at the sound That earth and wave in fond enchantment bound.