Che Gram

_A WEEKLY JOURNA

gDWARD WHELAN]

——— Vor. VILL. qn ea Valuable Property. “0 BE SOLD by Auction, on THURSDAY, the 23rd ‘j November next, at 12 o'clock, on the eee that eommodious ‘'WO-STOREY DWELLING HOUSE, AND VALUABLE FREEHOLD PROPERTY, owned by Josserea MecDonatp, adjoining the grounds of the Roman Catholic Charch. The House is very convenient and well Guished from the ground floor to the attic. There are likewise on the premises a Stable, Coach and other Out-Buildings, with an exceilent Weil and Pump in

the yard. ©

Cheee Premises are well adapted for a large family or Private Boarding House. A portion of the purchase money may remain on interest fer a term of years. as may be agreed wpon. r A.HW..YATES, Auctioneer.

Charlottetown, September 6, 1858. Isl

Assignment of Dobts. TOTICE ix hereby given that by Deed of this date, I haye N assiened to the Honorable Joserpu HeENstey, all Debts owing to me, in Trust for the payment of creditors ; and that all persons inde! hereby required, to make payment only to the above named Jossra Uensiey.

-_--

JOHN RIGG. N accordance with the above notice, I hereby require al! I parties indebted to the above named Jonn Rice tv make immediate payment to me, at my office, in Charlotte- sown, of the “mounts due from them respectively. JOSEPH HENSLEY. Cherlottetown, 3Iist August, 1858.

y, Confectionary, Fancy Biscuits, &c.

- ~ yury , BYLIE Subscriber, in addition to his own experience, has en- a sacred o thorough tradesman direct from England, and is

. propered to execute orders of any description in the above } on the shortest notice. The subscriber having greatly jncreased his exvenses, trusts that the Ladies of Charlottetown will favour him with orders, and support so useful an under-

taking. Faney Biscuits fresh and new, daily. JOSEPH KNIGHT. Baerdon’s Buildings, Great George Street, pterber 6, 18538. ow. pd. citeninieuaaial

fr

—_-_---—-- + a ee

Books, Groceries, &c. &¢. &e-

REMOVAL.

VESHE Subseriber bezs leave to inform the public that be

bas REMOVED to the Store formerly occupied by Mr. Broydrick, q -stceet, vy bere he hes on haad his usual Stock of BOOKS, STATION- EXY, &c., t ther witk a quantity of CRUCEUIES, ail of which will }

be suld low for cash.

SF Customers desirous,can be accommodated with good Stabling. beotember 6, 1 ‘ dw G W. MILLER. Valuable Household Furniture, Glassware, Chinaware. |

— ; tee DWlawror 2, Piano Forte, Music Books, Flowers, &c. Xc- rz*O RE SOLD, by Auction, at 12 o’clock, noon, on TUES- DAY > 2ist Seplember, at **GLUN STEWART,’ the residences of Writram Srewart, Esq., one mile from the s° ~ ‘ . . } P inten gahboahia M USEBEHOLD FURNLI- Be , the remainder of nis yaluadie HULSE ru iN TURE, consisting of— Bolas, Tablea, Chairs, Moreen Curtains, Carpets, Stoves, Chests Dray Bedsteads, Dressing-Tables, Dressing G'ass Wash-stands, Feather Beds, Glassware, China-

Plated Ware, Hendsome Dinner Services, Dish sntryware, Kitchenware, &ec.; also, 1] yery ex-

~ VV ’

e + Piano Forte, Music “Stool, Canterbury, Music Books, 3 years Lllustrated News, (bound complete), a] choice fut of Geraniums, &c., &e.

Trexus.——..5, three months; £10 and apwards, six months J. & T. MORRIS, Auctioneers. Mon & Isl

EW GOODS—SPRING 1868.

—

Soudon House, Established 1820.

4

yust 3(', 1853

os subscribers have received, per ship ‘“* ISABEL,”’ from Live

a

—

ae . a

120 Packazes British and Foreign Merchandize, 1

: Tons Iron,

Stoek on band, will be sold at their usual low Present importation consists of—

9 trunks Ladies’ Boots & Shoes

which, wit) prices for prompt payment. 20 chests prime Congou TEA

2 cases Re ly-made Clothing. 4 eases l'ouwnend’s Hats & Caps |

2 do Millinery. 2 do Straw and Silk Bonnets

$ do co: tining Parasols, Muslia dresses, Shaw!s & Mantles 1 do Ribbdons, 1 case Gloves, 1 do Hosiery

1 do au:nmer Clothes, Gambroons, Drills, &¢

1 do Fivor Cloth, 1 ease Flannels and Woollens

$0 boxes ‘* London” Soap, lcase Starch, 1 chest Indigo

15 bundles Spring Steel, 10 tons Bar [ron. ail Ch. Town, May 24, 1858. D. G. & S. DAVIES.

CITY GROCERY. NORTII SIDE OF QUEEN-SQUARE. iz ECEIVED per ‘* Provipence”’ and ** Arxrer,’’ from

& Halifax, and has on Land— ae Tea in varity Blacking ~ Tobaeco

Hhds Suga Punis b’t Molasses Superior Coffees Jamaica Rum Biscuit in variety Cigars strong Spirits Annapolis Cheese Dighy Herrings Hhds Holland Gin Raisins Rice best Cognac Brandy Currants Crushed Sugar Seotch Whiskey Dye-stuffs Sweet Ui P.E.I. Malt do Prunes Pale Seal Oil Common Whiskey Earthen Jars Salad Oil 3ymond’s best Port Pickles Spices

Vine Suuces Soap Sherry Wine Table Salt Candles Madeira d Nuts Washing Powders Champagn» Shelled Almonds Baking do Edinburgh Ale Confectionary Patent Medicines Pale Ale Burning Fluid London Porter Brushes And a great variety of other small and useful articles too nu- merous toinention. Cash paid for good clean Timothy Seed.

December 14, 1857. ly HUGH FRASER.

* Alliance Life and Fire Insurance Company”’ of

LONDON

ESTABLISHED BY ACT OF PARLIAMENT 1824.

Capital, Vive Millions sterling. Aprill4, CHARLES YOUNG, Agent for P. E. 1.

~

Mrs. |

bted to me will please, and they are |

Dated this 31st day of August, A. D. 1858. |

| ‘} was never diffident about telling ber story, and why shoul: *}{ hesitate to tell mine? The young lady’s name,—we’)

mi Vv!

», when Free-born Men, having

eo

CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MOND

Literature, [From the Atlantic Monthly for August, 1858.] THE ROMANCE OF A GLOVE.

} i

s : ; : | “ Halt!’ cried my travelling companion,

} 5

}overboard !”

| ‘The driver pulled up his horses; and, before I could prevent him, Westwood leaped down from the vehicle, and

j}raa back for the article that had been dropped.

| It wasa glove,~my glove, which I had inadvertently

| thrown out, in taking my handkerchief from my pocket.

| Go on, driver!” and hé tossed it into my hand as he

‘resumed his seat in the open stage.

| ‘Take your reward,” I said, offering him a cigar; “ but

| beware of renderiag me another such service!”

“Tf it had been your bat or your handkerchief, be sure I | should have jet it lie where it fell. Bat a glove,—that is I once found a romance in a glove. Since then, And Westwood gravely bit off the end

“ Property

| different. gloves are sacred.” of his cigar.

“A romance? Tell me about that. I am tired of this | endless stretch of sealike country, these regular ground-swells ; land it’s a good two-hours’ ride yet to youder headland, which juts out into the prairie, between us aud the setting sun. Meanwhile, your romance,”

* Did L say romance? [ fear you would hardly thiuk it worthy of the name,” said my companion. ‘“ very life has its romantic episodes, or, at least, incidents which appea such to him who experiences them. But these tender little | histories are usually insipid enough when told. I have u }maiden aunt, who once came so near having an offer from a {pale stripling, with dark hair, seven years her junior, that {to this day she often alludes to the circumstance, with the , rewark, that she wishes she knew some competent novel-writer jin whom she could confide, feeling sure that the story of that

period of ber life would make the groundwork of a magni- ticent work of fiction. Po-sibly L inherit my aunt’s tendency I to maguify into extraordinary proportions trifles which i | look at through the double convex lens of a personal interes: '3o don’t expect too much of my romance, aud you shai hear it.

“T said I found it ina glove. It was by no means a remarkable glove,---middle-sized, straw-colored, and a neat tit for this hand, in which L now hold your very excellent cigar. Of course, there was a young lady in the case ;—let ime see,—L don’t believe [ can tell you the story,” said Westwood, * after all!”

i I gently urged him to proceed. a Pshaw!” said he, after kindling his cigar with a few vigorous whiils, ‘* what’s the use of being foolish ¢ My aun

call her simply Margaret. She wasa blonde, with haze Perhaps you never heard of a blond: |

' leyes end dark bair. She was the only one |

|with hazel eyes and dark hair ? I{ ever saw . and there was the finest contrast imaginable | between her fuir, fresh complexion, and her superb tresses jand delicately-traced eyebrows. ‘She was certainly lovely lif not handsome; and—such eyes! Lt was an event im one’ life, Sir, just to look throug those luminous windows int. jner soul. That could not happen every day, be sure! j Sometimes for weeks she kept them turned trom me, the jivory shutters half-closed, or the mystic curtains of reserv: idrawn withia; then, again, when [ was tortured with | unsatiséi d yearuings, and almost ready to despair, she would | suddenly turn them upon me, the shutters thrown wide, the ‘curtains away, and a flood of radiance streaming forth, tha: filled me so full of light and gtadness, that L had uo shadowy ovok left in me for a doubt to hide in. Sue must have been ' conscious of this power of expression. She used it so sparingly, land, it seemed to me, artiuliy! But L always forgive hei 'when she did use it, aud cherished resentment ouly whea she ‘did not.

| «© Margaret was shy and proud; I could never completely C but L kaew. £ knew weil at Jasi, that And a deep, tender, woman’s heart it Without many words, we Pshaw!” said Wesi-

wio her confidence ; her heart Was mine, , too, despite her reserve. uuderstood each other, and so wood, * my cigar is out!”

* On with the story!”

«Well, we had our lovers’ quarrels, of course. Singular, what fovlish children love makes of us!—renderiag us sensitive, jealous, ex2cting, in the superlative degree. 1 am sare, we were both amiable and forbearing towards all the world besides; but, for the powerful reason that we loved, we were bound to misinterpret words, looks, and actions, and wopnd each other on every convenient occasion. IL was

m7 7 Wires DY au apparent

yas Wis

| pained by her TONS t5

| preference of a book or a bouquet to me, | part and quiet persistence on hers coutinued tu estrange Us, luntil L generally ended by conceding everything, aud pleading for one word of kindness, to eud my misery.

“[ was wrovug—too quick to asseut, too ready to concede No doubt, it was to her a secret gratification tu exercise her power over Me, aud atlaust L was convinced that she wouuded ‘we purposely, iu order to provoke a temporary estrangeuent, and enjoy a repetition of ber triumph.

treet litt, Slt ater 2 going to happen. Retaliation ou my “Tere ol nec ROTE CTT Wa LTS si

to advise the Public, man speak free. ——evriwes.

AY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1858.

Wer,

punctuality, C called for her, escorted her to the concert-room, aad carefully reeondacted her home,—letting no opportunity pass to show her a true gentleman’s deference and respect. —conversing with her freely about music, books, anything in short, except what we both new to be deepest in each other’s thoughts. Upon other occasions, I avoided her, and even refrained from going to places where she was expected. —especially where she knew that I knew she was expected,

Well,” continaed Westwood, “ my designs upon her heart, which [ was going to wring so unmercifully, did not meet with very brilliant success. To confess the busiliatine truth, I soon found that I was torturing myself a good dea! more thun I was torturing ber, As a last and desperate resort, what do“you think L did ?”

“You probably asked her to ask your forgiveness.”

“Not L! I have a will of adamant, as people find, who tear away the amiable flowers and light soil that cover it ; and she bad reached the impenetrable, firm rock. I neither made any advances towards a reconciliation nor invited any. But [ll tell you what L did do, as a final trial of her heart. { had, for some time, been meditating a European tour, and my interest in her had alone kept me at home. Some friends of mine were to sail early in the spring, and [ now resglved to accompany them. [| don’t know how much pride and spite there was ia the resolution—probably a good deal, I[ con- fess I wished to make ber suffer~-to show her that she had va-culated too much upon my weakness—that [ could be strong and happy without her. Yet, with all this bitter and vindictive feeling, I listened to a very sweet and tende: whisper in my heart, which said, ‘ Now, if her love speak- out—now, if she says to me ove true, kind, womanly word —she shall go with me, and nothing shall ever take her from ue again!’ The thought of what might be, if she, would nut say that word, aud of what must be, irrevocably, if be: pride teld out, shook me mightily. But wy resolution was taken : L would trust tbe rest to fate.

* Ou the day of the last concert [ imparted the secret of my inteuded ourney to a person who, I felt tolerably sure would rush at onve to Margaret with the news. Tuen., in the evening, L went for her; | was conscious that my manner jowards ber was a little more tender, or rather a little less o.d!y courteous that night than it bad usually been ol iate; for my feelings were sofieved, and I had never seen ner so lovely. IL bad never before known what a treasure | was about to lose, Tue subject of my voyage was no. mentioned, and if she had beard of it, she accepted the fact without the least visible concern. Her quietness under the circuwstances chilled me—disheartened me quite. I am ust one of those who can give much supe. flaous love, or cling with uureasonable, bind passion to au object that yields uv affecuion in return, A quick aud ellectual method uf curing 1 funcy in persons of my temperament is to teach them that Tien it expires like a flame cut off Tne death- struggle, the uprooting, is the paiaful thing; but when the avart isstautumzuly conv aced that its jove is misplaeed, it| Zives Up, with oue iast sigh as big as face, saeds a few tears, says a prayer or two, thinks G xf tor the experieuce, aud vecumes wu Wiser, calwer—yes, aud a happier beart than

itis mot reviprocated, ‘vou the air, or a plaut rem yved from the soil.

veture.”

“True,” I suid; “but our hearts are not thus easily e ovinged.”

“Ay, there’s the rub. .tis for want of a true pereep- tion. ‘uere cauuot be a true love without a true perception. Lisve is for the svul to know, from its own intuition—uot vr tue understanding to believe, from the testimony of those very uoreliable witnesses, cailed eyes and ears, ‘Tins seems iO Lave been My case—my soul was aware of her love, aud ail the evidence of my external sevses could not altogether desiroy that interior faith, But that eveniog I said— 1 veileve you now, my seuses-! | douvt you now, my soul !— she never loved me!’ So IL was realty very coid towards her—ior avout tWeuty minutes,

* | waiked bome wiih her;—we were both silent; but at the dour she asked me to go in. Here my calmness deserted me, and 1 could hardly hold my heart while I replied —

“{f you particularly wish it.’

“+f Lt did oot, [should mot ask you,’ she said; and I went in. .

“| was ashumed and vexed at myself for trembling so— for L was in a tremor from bead to foot. There was compa- | uy in the parlors,—some of M irgaret’s friends, I took my seat Upon a sofa, and soun she caime aud sat by my side,

** | suppose,’ said oue, * Mr. Westwood hus been telling Margaret all about it.’

** Avout what? Margaret inquired,—and here the trath flashed upou me—tue news of wy proposed voyage tad uot | yet reacned her! Sune looked at me with a croubied, | questioning expression, and said,—

Tell me:

what it 1s.’ ne a, “L auswerel— Your friend can best explain what sie means.” + Tuen out came the secret. A shock of surprise sent the | color irom Margaret's tace ; aud raising ber eyes, sue asked, | quile Caluily, bet in a low aud uuuatural toue,—

‘Itwas ata party; the thing she did was to waltz with 4 man waom she kuew | detested, whom J kuew she could not respect, und whose halt-embrace, as he whirled her iu tne dance, almost put murder into wy thoughts. | ‘* Margaret,’ 1 said, ‘ one lust word ! tne, beware !”

“That was a foolish speech, perhaps. ineffectual. She persisted, looking so calm and composed, that a great weight feil upon my heart, L waiked uway ; L wandered about the salvous; L tried to gossip and be gay ; but the wound was too deep. j :

«I accompanied her home, late in the evening. We scarcely spoke by the way. At the coor, she looked me sadly in the face —sbe gave me her band; { tnought it treinbied.

** Goud-night! ” sue said, in a low voice.

house.

{ had reached the corner of the street, and to kuow toat sue had been listening to my foutsteps. But 1 was very angry. I made stern resolutions ; 1 vowed to myself that 1 would i wring her heart, and wever swerve frow my purpose uuiil L ‘had wrung out of if ubuudant drops of surrow aud cod rition. | How L succeeded you sbail hear.

| regret, and for good reasons.

if you care for}

[It was certain!y |

“+ Good-bye!’ [ answered, coldly, and hurried from tbe |

« It was some consolation to hear her close the door after |

| 1 had previously engaged her to attend a series of conceris witu me; aa arrangement which 1 did not now, Once a week, with famous,

+ ts this su ? «| said, * L suppose I eanuot deny it.’ « ¢ Yuu are realiy going ?

|

; *) am really goiug.’ ; | sae couid nut hide her agitation, Her white face | betray ed aer. Tnen 1 was giad, wickediy glad, in my beart, | aud vane enough to be gratitied that others should behold ‘and kvow 1 ned a power over her, Well—but I suflered for tbat folly. : | #6 | jvei nurt,’ she said, after a little while, ‘ because you ‘have not told tuis. You have no sister,’ (‘his was spoken very quietiy,) * aud it wouid have been a privilege for me to | iuke a sister’s place, aud do tur you tuose little things which | sisters du fur broibers who are glug ou loug journeys.’ | sb was cuuked ;—it was a uiuute before 1 could speak. ' Phen I said tuat 1 saw no reason why she suouid tax ber /tiuts or thud sats to dy auythiug tor me, | + Qa, you kuow,’ she said, * you have been kiad to me, /_-sy wach kinder than L have deserved !’ a It wos unendurable —the pathos of the words! I was If we bad bees ‘uione there vur trial wouid ave eaded. L[ snould have sua-ched ner to my soul. But the eyes of others were upoa us, aud L stecied myself. “* Bysides,’ L said, * 1 kaow of notaiag that yoa can do for me.’ “+ Phere must be many little things:—to begia with, there is your glove, which you are teariug to pieces.’ “Trys, | was tearing my glove—sue was calm caough

} 1

‘blinded, stifled—L aimost groaned aloud.

jand near; and the horses moved at a quicker pace.

‘sce each fair brow touched with a halo whose color

= ee ese

to observe it! That made me angry.

«+ Give it to me; [ will mend it for you. Haven’t you other gloves that need mending ?

“I, who had triumphed, was humbled. My heart was hreaking,—and she talked of mending gloves! I did not amit tu thank her, I coldly arose to go.

“ Well, I felt now that it was all over. The next day I secured my passage in the steamer in which my friends were to sail. I took pains that Margacet should hear of that too. Then came the preparations for travel—-arranging affairs, writing letters, providing myself with a compact and com- ‘ortable outfit. Kurope was in prospect—Paris, Switzerland, italy, lands to which my dreams had long since gone before ne. and.to whieh [now turned my eyes with re-awakening aspirations, A new glory arose upon my life, in the light of which Margaret became a fading star. It was so much sasier than [ had thought to give her up, to part from her ! { found that I could forget her, in the excitement of a fresh ind novel experience; while she—could she forgot me? When lovers part, happy is he who goes! alas for the one that is left behind !

“One day, when [ was busy with the books which I was to take with me, a small package was handed in. I need not tell you that [ experienced a thrill when I siw Margiuret’s nandwritiog upon the wrapper. [ tore it open,—and what think you L found? My glove! Nothing else. I smiled bitterly, to see how neatly she had mended it; then I sighed aud said, ‘ [t is finished !’ aud tossed the glove disdainfully ‘mio my trunk,

“On the day before that fixed for the sailing of the steamer, [ made farewell calls upou many of my friends,— winog others, upon Margaret. But, though the perversity uf pride and will, I did not go alone, —I took with me Joseph, + mitual acquaintance, who wag to be my compagnon de voyage. I felt some misgivings, to see how Margaret had shainged ; she was so softened, and so pale!

* The interview was a painful one, and [ cut it short. As we were going out, she gently detained me, and said,—

“* Did you receive—your glove ?

“* Qa, yes,’ [ said, and thanked her for mending it.

“** And is this all—all you have to say ? she asked.

“*T have nothing more to siy—except good-bye."

“She held my hand. ‘* Nothing else ?

“« No—it is useless to taik of the past, Margaret ; aud the future—may you be happy !—Good-bye !’

“I thought she would speak; I could not believe she would let me go; but she did! I bore up well, until night. Chen came a revulsion, I walked three times past the aouse, wofully tempted, my I ve and my wil! at eruol warfare; but L did not go in. At midnight I saw the light iu her room extinguished; I knew she had retired, but whether to sleep, or weep, or pray—how could [ tell? I went home. I did not close my eyes that night. I was glad .0 see the morning come, after such a night!

* Tae steamer was to sail at tea. The bustle of emarka- tion 5 strange scenes and strange faces ; parting from friends ; he ringing of the bell; last adieus,—some, who were to go with us, hurrying aboard, cthers, who were to stay behind, as hastily going ashore; the withdrawal of the plank,—sad sight to many eyes! casting off the lines, the steamer swioging heavily around, the rushing irregular motion of ihe great, slow paddies; the waving of handkerchiefs from the decks, and the respousive sigaais from the crowd lining the wharf; off at last,—tbe faces of friends, the crowd, the piers, and, lastly, the city itself, fading from sight; the dash of spray, the freshening breeze, the novel sight of’ our little world detaching itself and floating away; the feeling that America was past, and Harope was next;—all this filled wy mind with aniwation and excitement, which shut out thoughts of Margaret. Could [ have looked wita clairvoyant vision, and belield her then, locked in her chamber, should [ have been so happy? Oh, what fools vanity and pride make of us! Kven then, with my heart high-strang with hope and courage, had I known the trath, L should have abandoned my friends, the voyage, and Karope, aud returned in the pilot’s boat, to find something more precious than all the continents aud countries of the gicbe, in the love of that heart which [ was carelessly flinging away.”

Here Westwood took breath. ‘The suu was now almost

iset. The prairie was still aud cool; the heavy dews were

beginning to fall; the shadows of the green and flowerod undulations filled the hollows, like a rising tide ; the headland, seen at first so far and small, was growiog gradgally large West- woud lighted his cigar, drew a few whiils, and proceeded.

“ We had a voyage of eleven days, But to me an imwense amount of experience was crowded into that brief period. The fine exhiliration of the start,—the breeze gradually increasing to a gale; then horrible sea-sickness, howe-

' sickness, love-sickness; after which, the weather which sailors,

love, games, gayely and flirtation. There is no such social freeduin to be enjoyed any where as on board an ocean steamer, The breaking up of old associations, the opening of a fresh

| existenee. the vecessity of new relationships,—this fuses the

crust of conventivnality, quickens the springs of life, and : > « tie . Tt, sinsiale’ Buu tenn SO renders character sympathetic and flaent. Tne past is easily jut away; we become prusic to new influences; we are delighted at the discovery of unexpected affinities, and stonished to fiud in ourselves so much ait, eloquence, and fine usceptibility, which we did wot defore dveam we possessed,

d a s : :

« This freedom is especially provocative o ation. We

refieetion of our own beautiful dreams, Loveiiness is ten more lovely, bathed in this atmosphere of romance; and

manhood is invested with ideal graces, The love within us

‘rushes, with swiilt, sweet heart-beats, to meet the love

responsive in some oiver., Don’t think 1 am now wi tiuily preparivg your wind to excuse what {am about to countess. Take these things into cousideration, if you will; thea think us you please of the weakness and wild impulse with which I fell in love with “ We will call her Flora. Tie most saperd, captivating creature that ever ensaared the hearts of tne suas of Adau. A tine olive complexion ; magnificent dark aubura huir; eyes full of fire aad softuess; lips tat could pout or smile with ‘incomparable fascination; a figure of surprising symmetry, just voluptuous enough. Bar, afver all, her great power lay in ber freedow from all affectation aad conveniionality —ia her spoutaueity, ber free, sparkling, aad vivae ous manners, Sue was the ost daring aod dyachag vf women, without ever appeariug immotest or repulsive, She walked with such proud, secure steps over the commonly accepted barriers ‘of social intercoarse, that evea those who biamed her and ‘preteaded to be shocked were compelled to admire, She was the belle, the Juno, of the suloofi, the supreme orna- meat of the upper deck. Just tweaty—not without wit j

;

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ser ts la Me welt se th,

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