There were now but three more leaps to be taken before he would reach the flat table-rock above the fall, which once attained, he would have firm foot-hold and a fair field; already he rejoiced, triumphant in the success of his bold attainment, and confident in victory, when a shrill female shriek reached his ears from the pretty flower-garden; caught by the sound he diverted his eyes, just as he leaped, toward the place whence it came; his foot slipped, and the next instant he was flat on his back in the swift stream, where it shot the most furiously over the glassy rock. He struggled manfully, but in vain. The smooth, slippery surface afforded no purchase to his gripping fingers, no hold to his laboring feet. One fearful, agonizing conflict with the wild waters, and he was swept helplessly over the edge of the fall, his head, as he glanced down foot foremost, striking the rocky brink with fearful violence. He was plunged into the deep pool, and whirled round and round by the dark eddies long before he rose, but still, though stunned and half disabled, he strove terribly to support himself, but it was all in vain. Again he sunk and rose once more, and as he rose that wild shriek again reached his ears, and his last glance fell upon a female form wringing her hands in despair on the bank, and a young man rushing down in wild haste from the cottage on the hill. He felt that aid was at hand, and struck out again for life—for dear life! But the water seemed to fail beneath him. A slight flash sprang across his eyes, his brain reeled, and all was blackness. He sunk to the bottom, spurned it with his feet, and rose once more, but not to the surface. His quivering blue hands emerged alone above the relentless waters, grasped for a little moment at empty space, and then disappeared. The circling ripples closed over him, and subsided into stillness. He felt, knew, suffered nothing more. His young, warm heart was cold and lifeless—his soul had lost its consciousness—the vital spark had faded into darkness—perhaps was quenched for ever. [_To be continued._ * * * * * MARY. BY MRS. O. M. P. LORD. Humble Mary! thus in breaking Vows I never meant to keep, Who will blame me for forsaking, Though a love-sick girl may weep? Humble Mary! high born maiden Must my name and honors share, With ancestral glory laden— Matters not less good and fair. . . . . . . Angel Mary! sadly pleading, Sinking low on bended knee, See remorse to scorn succeeding— Mary! Mary! pardon me. Angel Mary! lost forever! What are name and fame to thee? Cursed the pride that bade us sever— Angel Mary! pardon me.