“We have sold all our plate and jewellery, and now I’m sure I don’t know what we can dispose of, unless it be something that we really want.” “What do you say to selling the sofa, ma?” “Well, I don’t know, Florence. It don’t seem right to part with it. But perhaps we can do without it.” “It will readily bring fifty dollars, I suppose.” “Certainly. It is of the best wood and workmanship, and cost one hundred and forty dollars. Your father bought it a short time before he died, and that is less than two years past you know.” “I should think it would bring nearly a hundred dollars,” said Florence, who knew nothing of auction sacrifices; “and that would give us enough, besides paying the quarter’s rent, to keep us comfortably until some of my bills come due.” That afternoon the sofa was sent, and on the next afternoon Florence went to the auctioneer’s to receive the money for it. “Have you sold that sofa yet, sir?” asked the timid girl, in a low, hesitating voice. “What sofa, miss?” asked the clerk, looking steadily in her face with a bold stare. “The sofa sent by Mrs ----, sir.” “When was it to have been sold?” “Yesterday, sir.” “Oh, we haven’t got the bill made out yet. You can call the day after to-morrow, and we’ll settle it for you.” “Can’t you settle it to-day, sir? We want the money particularly.” Without replying to the timid girl’s request, the clerk commenced throwing over the leaves of a large account-book, and in a few minutes had taken off the bill of the sofa. “Here it is--eighteen dollars and sixty cents. See if it’s right, and then sign this receipt.” “Ain’t you mistaken, sir? It was a beautiful sofa, and cost one hundred and forty dollars.” “That’s all it brought, miss, I assure you. Furniture sells very badly now.” Florence rolled up the bills that were given her, and returned home with a heavy heart. “It only brought eighteen dollars and sixty cents, ma,” she said, throwing the notes into her mother’s lap, and bursting into tears. “Heaven only knows, then, what we shall do,” said the widow, clasping her hands together, and looking upwards. * * * * * There are always two parties in the case of bargains--the gainer and the loser; and while the one is delighted with the advantage he has obtained, he thinks nothing of the necessities which have forced the other party to accept the highest offer. But few buyers of bargains think or care about taking this view of the subject.--_From the New York Mirror._ SONNET--THE DEPARTURE OF LOVE.