curtains of night seemed prematurely drawn over the horizon, shrouding nature in the gloom of night ere the sun had reached the western horizon;-on such an evening might have been seen a weary traveller wending his lonely way through the dark forests of the South, on the road towards Charleston. Far from home, in a strange land, anxious to find a shelter from the drizzling rain, which seemed to increase as night drew on, he quickened his pace, hoping to find some human habitation where he might rest for the night.

While thus pressing onward, peering through the gloomy mist, he descried a splendid mansion a little distant from the road. Oh! how his heart was lightened; how his face beamed with joy as he approached the longwished-for object.

On arriving at the gate, the way worn traveller hallooed a negro made his appearance, and the following conversation ensued:

Traveller. How d'ye do, uncle: who lives here?
Negro. Massa, Sir.

T. Is he at home?

N. Yes, Sir; he's in the house.

T. Will you please open the gate ?

N. What you want, Sir?

T. I wish to stay all night.

N. Massa no let you stay, Sir: he nebber let trabbler stay with him.

T. Open the gate: I must see him.

The darkey opened the gate; the traveller proceeded to the house, and entered the piazza. The landlord made

his appearance.

Traveller. Good evening, Sir.

Landlord. Good evening, Sir.

T. I wish to stop with you for the night, Sir.

L. Can't do it, Sir: don't keep public-house.

T. But, Sir, it rains; the night will be very dark, and I'm a stranger in these parts, and don't know the road.

L. Can't do it, Sir: you must go to the tavern.

T. How far is it to the tavern, Sir?

L. About eight miles.

T. That's too far off: myself and horse are both weary; besides it rains, and will be very dark.

L. Can't help it, Sir: can't be troubled with travellers.

T. Well, Sir, let me have shelter for myself and horse, and I'll trouble you for nothing more.

L. I have told you I could not do it; nor do I wish you to trouble me further.

T. Well, Sir, just give me shelter for my horse, and let me stay in your negro-houses until morning, and I will trouble you no further.

L. Sir, you must leave my premises, and the sooner the better; for you are only losing your time.

The traveller said no more; but with a keen, discerning eye, cast one long piercing look at the human form before him, and left.

Here stands our first picture. Now let us look at the other.

On a beautiful and bright morning in June, when the sun had reached the summer solstice, and many of the wealthy inhabitants of the Southern States were seeking the cooling breezes of a more northern latitude, there was seen, on the road leading to the Virginia springs, a splendid carriage, drawn by four beautiful greys, accompanied by a postillion. In the carriage were seated a wealthy southern planter and his lady, on their way to these delightful watering places.

Suddenly an axletree of the carriage gave way, and the carriage with its contents fell gently to the ground without further injury.

The postillion was sent onward to seek assistance; he had not gone far before he came to a neat farmhouse, and made known to the master of the house the sad catastrophe which had just happened.

The farmer immediately called together several of his servants, ordered his own carriage, and, with a few strong hands, was soon on the ground where the accident

had happened, rendering timely aid to the unfortunate. travellers.

The contents of the injured carriage being transferred to the farmer's, were soon conveyed to the house; and while a substantial dinner was in the course of preparation for the travellers, the broken axletree was detached from the carriage, and sent to a blacksmith to be repaired. In the meantime the farmer's family were doing all in their power to render their guests as comfortable as possible.

Late in the afternoon the broken axletree, neatly mended, was refitted to the carriage, and in readiness for the road; but it was now late, and the kind-hearted farmer insisted on his guests tarrying until morning, and then, after an early breakfast, they could make a good day's journey. To this the travellers readily consented; and while "mine host " was showing the gentleman over parts of his neat and fruitful farm and orchards, his wife and daughters were amusing their lady-guest by a walk in the beautiful garden; then to the spring, showing her the neat and clean spring-house, through which the spring-water was passing, keeping the milk and butter cool and sweet. The southern lady became so pleased with the place and the family, that she expressed herself willing to remain with the farmer and his family, instead of going to the springs; but they had engaged to meet some of their friends at the springs, and therefore must go.

The guests were now summoned to the dining-room, where they sat down with the farmer and his amiable family to a supper, such as a wealthy farmer of the "Old Dominion" is proud to set before his friends. While supper was being discussed, the time was enlivened by that easy flow of conversation usually found among the F. F. V.'s when in company with friends.

As the time for rest was drawing on, all the family, with their guests, being seated in the parlour, the "good man of the house" opened the "good old book," (as he was wont to call it,) and read, for the instruction of all present, the hundred and fourth Psalm. Then, in a short but

appropriate address to the throne of grace, he committed his charge to the care of Him who never sleeps. After which all retired to enjoy

"Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."

Next morning the guests, rising from their comfortable resting-place, found waiting their appearance a breakfast composed of a rich variety of the good thing of life pre99 and while pared à la mode "Old Virginia never tire; our guests were engaged in doing ample justice to their breakfast, servants were engaged in harnessing the horses, now rested, well fed, and smoothly curried and rubbed down.

All things being now ready for motion, our travelling gentleman approached "mine host" with, "My bill, Sir if you please."

"Your bill, Sir! I never made a bill against a traveller in my life. I don't know how to do it, Sir. God bountifully provides for his creatures; and while we have enough and to spare, I believe it is our duty to express our gratitude by obeying his word, especially the injunction, 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers;' and therefore I have never charged a stranger calling at my house for the bounties which God has graciously given me."

"But, Sir, I have been both trouble and expense to you ; and being abundantly able to compensate you for your extraordinary kindness, I insist on paying you, and am resolved on doing so before I leave your hospitable roof."

"Well, Sir, as you insist on it, though I never before charged a traveller anything, I will charge you something." "That's right, Sir, that's right now my bill, Sir, and I'll pay it."

"Well, Sir, this is your bill. All that I ask in compensation for what I have done for you is, that yon will do unto others as you would have others do to you; and if ever a poor weary traveller calls at your house on a dark, gloomy, rainy evening, and begs for shelter, only in one of your negro houses, don't turn him away. All I ask is that you will take him in, and do by him as I have done by you when you will do this, we are even."

The traveller was dumb-almost suffocated-and for a time could not utter a word. Then, recovering himself, he said, in a subdued and mortified tone, "Are you the man ?”

"I am; and I knew you the moment I saw you; and, acting on principles taught by that same good old book from which I have already given you a few quotations, I feel bound to render good for evil.' I have done only my duty. I am satisfied, paid in full; and wish you a prosperous, and long, and happy life, rendered useful by acts of kindness to your fellow-man, whenever you find him in need."

"O, Sir, I am mortified, I am ashamed; and I promise never again to withhold good from my fellow-man, when I have it in power."

"Then, Sir, I am more than amply compensated for all I have so gladly done for you; and rejoice in bidding you God-speed.

"No, Sir, not a farthing. I am already more than fully paid."

The traveller then approached the sideboard, and laying down the one hundred dollar bill, he placed a tumbler on it to prevent its being blown away; then turning to mine host, offered his parting hand, while his eyes were suffused with tears of mingled shame and gratitude.

The farmer cordially took the proffered hand; and never was there a more feeling farewell passed between strangers than here passed between the guest and the family of "mine host."

We will say nothing of the feeling of our lady-guest during the above conversation between her husband and our Virginia farmer; nor will we follow them in their carriage to hear their conversation as they left the farmhouse. Suffice it to say, they never afterwards forgot to entertain strangers.-Baltimore Patriot.