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^VOLUMES. ~ CAPE ISLND. NEW JERSEY, THURSDAY. JANUARY, 22. IS63. NUMBER 34 - — . ' ■" - •' n i —i -r r in- • —ji'TT n rri- "st'». »T«r. ,

Stint SJktllaitp. THE VEILED PICTURE ; . « " OR THZ KTRDT OT THE LIBRARY. 2io searching eye can pierce the veil That o'er my secret life i* tbrewc ; No outward signs reveal it* tale. Dot to my botom known. Thai like the epark. whose vivid light • la the dark' flint ia hid from eight. ' i It dwell! within, atone. — Mn. Ilemani. "What have you concealed here 1" I ■ *- Raid, taking hold of the heory silk dra- i pwiy attached to a rote wood cornice, j and falling in graceful folds to the flcfor. . "Lillian 1 Lillian ! don't raise It aereamed Mrs. Thornton, springing from the easy chair in which she had batn reclining with the listleasness of a dreamy child ; and darting to my aide, * ahe pressed so )>eavily ag&inst the veil, that I' could tfttcern the outline of a pletam frame. "A piotnrt!" I exclaimed, "O, 1 nnttaee it, Tor I can'never rest where ■ » anything rtysterioijs." "But fiift you cannot— tnuit not — , nee," I did not reply, for having been an iamate of the house only a week, and. this being my first visit to the library, I \ did not give utterance to the thoughts ' which rufhed through my mind, i'er . -*•»' haps Mrs. Thornton divined ray thoughts, aa after a moment's silence ■be said • "Yon are to hare accesss to this 1i- ' brary at all times — every hook is at your j service, and yon are at liberty even to • rummage the drawers at:d pigeon holes j of my deak, if yeur cnrloeity demands j It i bnt yon must not look beneath the ; veil tlmt hides this picture;" ond her; m da llpe trembled, her Jprk expresaive •yee were fixed npon tqfnc. "Just one donee,1* I aaid. pleading- ( !y"; "tml-ftil* ttWl W head negatively,- 1 mad I went on : — "How can I study i f\ with that mystery ever before me ; and j ± . then, too, I shall never sleep souudly : again, but dream the livelong night of j this mystical veil, eud that it hides some atranft, weird image ; or woree, become a eomnembnlilt, end frighten every ser- ! ' 'h not (who happens to fear ghosts) from the house, by midnight explorations and wanderings." . "So eye but mine ever looks upon the veiled picture. It 14 sacred, for it It the only relic I have preserved of my | past lire— all that I have to remind me of happy daya too bright to last — of a brief period whea life's pathway was etrnwa with flowers, and I dreamt not thht beneath those fair, perfumed flow era' petals, sharp piercing thorna were hidden." Her face was pale as death, "Mttboae deep, darlr eyea moist with pearly tears. I saw that her heart was deeply paioed; that welling from memory's funnt, came painfnl remembrance, and truly penitent, I said, "Forgive my thought teas words, and I promise never to raise the veil from tbia picture, nor paio jour * heart b j my questions." Ah intense smile stole over her pale features, and klufog my cheek, she murmured, *'De»: child f perhaps some dsy ] may Oft the nil, and tell yon all." Thru taraiag away to hide her tears, left am steading before the veiled picture. It wae rather cartons bow I came to bra dweller in the hoose of Mrs. Thorntea.— Two years before, when bnt fourteen year* aid, I came to Hew Haven to attend school, and soon after, my father leaving for ISerope, where be expected to remain three years, entrusted me to TMk M» Tb—w. 6k, " / ...

I iug with an intense smile, that awoke I j an answering echo in my young heart I j She always called me to her side to ask < ; me about my studies ; and when a new j book was announced which she thought , | would he suitable for ine to read, she I ! placed it in my hand with my name en- i j graved on the fly-leaf in her own hand- j j writing. Was it strange my heart warmed toward Iter ? that her coming | i was looked forward to with pleasure, or j I | that 1 oftep begged for the privilege of 1 . visiting her in her quiet, pleasant home? f , | My visits there were not very frequent ; , i and when there, we sat in her bondoir, t which was fitted np with artistic taste, j - and, hsvijg never been admitted to the,' ] library, 1 had never seen the veiled pic s tore. I iiad a pleasant borne in Mr. Howe's t family ; yet it was a glad surprise when i be said i conld board with Mrs. Thorn- ! ton, if I wished," and thought that I i [ i coold be happy there. Mrs. Thornton i had proposed it, as Mr." Howe's family I an tici |)ited being absent from the city . i most of the summer ; and the following ! Saturday I removed to her liorae. i , It was my first holiday in my new i j home, and I bad gone to the library [ i with Mrs. Thornton, to select a book, i I when, on passing around, my eyes fell > upon the silk drapery shading the wall |r in the further corner of the room, and e was about to draw it aside, when her exclamation prevented me. I. bad pro- . raised not to look beneath the mysterir ons folds of that silken veil, yet I was ).[ not satisfied ; curiosity prompted me to i j try to catch a hasty glimpse when Mrs. « T horntou was'engsged, bnt bouor forI I bade. r i Summer and autumn passed, and the 1 1 'onff winter evenings were spent in the ! i coxy, , cheerful library ; and though I . J cast many a far-ire glance toward the -j relied picture, I dared not qoeaiMnrMrs. 1 j j Thornton, and began uyiespuir of the ] dawning of tlai day when she would ' f | reiote thv history oT the picture. It was j f | a mild evening in Spring, and we were 5 j sitting before the grate in the library ; I , | watched the fast dimming coals that lied . J burned low, while Mrs. Thornton, with , i closed ryes, sat near In the easy chair. < i My reverie was broken by the tremulous tones "of ber voice, saying . i "Lillian, do yoa remember your mot ther?" r | T^en I answered, that though I tornj ed lehf after leaf of memory's book, yet t 1 could find no record of a mother's I love. She diod when I was about two l years old, yet my father hsd been kind, and, as fur as possible, filled the place i of both father and mother, My child , hood had passed happily p \ my father i nmi both friend and instructor, and my first gTeat grief had been when I was - sent to school and my father sailed for , Europe. " Was your mother's name Lillian T" and there was something in the tone of i her voice that startled me. " Her name was' Flora— Flora May. Was it not a sweet name It*- — V i " Yery pretty," and Ure glowing In- • teneity of her eye, aurl met ite gaxv, ■ made my heart throbVwhJ^-4 strange ' sensation. " I can't tell where the was bnried. > Ones when I asked my father he said it wae far away, and *e would go to the • place of my birth when I wae older. My - father wae eo lonely after mother's death ' that he sold his borne in New York, and - removed to Ohio. I have no racoliec- ' lion of my firet borne, bnt ehall ask my I father to take me there before we retoru i to Ohio." " And your father loved hie wile f" i " What a oirwtge question," I said, i Yot ahe appeared to have spoken with i oat thought "If he had n«n loved her, • do jofothiak be would have remained I ni 10 bor (RH« yean f» . - 1 k«„ .k..J.rh,. ud aui nitre,'.' i Mn. Tkoraloo ooW, rDirB ; «od coaiog . I. . .Kb . Inked rink left Ik, Kbmr..

I dying couls, Weref her questions tlte 1 ; ma-jic key that had bulocked the casket ' where the roeraorieeLffltoy WlMhood 1 t ! were stored ? I cottd not tell Yet • there came a dim remembrance of a time | when I was playing alone in the garden , ( . . and a strange face peered into mine, •« ^ ( : some one clasped me in her arms and |< : i kissed ine again ond again, while my face 1 was wet with teaip. I never knew . ' f ' whence the came or whither sba went, ' and it seemed strong# that dim memory . J ; I shonld come back then. It passed, and , a bright dream flitted befog^wgy waking , . ; vision —my lather would refini in a few l ■ months.; he would meet Mrs. Thornton; 1 she was so gentle and winning that he i would not fail to be .pleased with Iter, i and I might bv permitted to call her ' i mother ! My hand was on the knob to open , [ , the door, but I hesitated. It was too , i late, and the bouse w$ I still. How easy r it would be to eolfrtltot- mystery, and I r Mrs. Thornton uvtoW®wnow It. For ' . r months that veiled picture had kanntcd I i «ny waking and sleeping visions, why , shonld ! longer perplex ray mind with 1 f vain conjecture ; end crossing the li- { brary, I placed tliWs Ismp so its light | I would fall directly upon the picture, i [ I Whs it the rustling of silk or the fain { j echo of gentle footsteps that r.tnrth-d , . me .' but listening, I found all silent within nnd without. All 1 it was the ; whispering of the still, small voice, and j ! ; should I heed its promptings ? She ; , would not know it, cariosity whispered ; i i so I raised the veil ; bin, as my rye ! . caught a giimpewf n_ gilded frame, the > - j drapery fell from my hand. I rem em- ' , bered ray promise ntter to raise that , ] veil, end I turned away wondering why I so costly a frame wet bidden beneath , , those dark folds. •' , , { y?oto that night tW*Vnyat«ry of the ' t i library deepened, f had a nervous1 I dread of being left ulone with the veiled ' i ; picture, and my imaginative mind pic- ( i t tired n scene of horror that would thrill every nerve end Irene my heart's blood! I My father returned, and when I told ( .him how kind Mrs Thdrnton hud been, 1 Culled to thank her in person ; but , she was ill and could not leave her room. 1 Wondering what could agitate her so, 1 1 returned to my father saying, ahe would ' be belter in a day or two, and he must not leave the city until be had seen ( her. I)ut he was firm in his decision to | i leave the next day,' nnd I must neenm* ' t i pony him. Then I expressed a wish to , visit my mother's grave. He drew roc I i i ,to bis side, and with Ma arm encircling j i ! me, nnd my head resting upon his bjs-'l 1 ■ on, 'told me of mj. Bother. To him!1 the memory of the fwit was painful, and ! ' i I mingled my tears with those of my j ' ; father, while again I seemed to see that j ' strange face peering into mine. , In two bourn I would leave my* kind , r friend, and I was goiag without the rays- 1 ■ I tery of the librarj being fclvcd ; so I | - ventured to hint that, when I came to ' 1 —sigftiher next year, I hoped to see the 1 vtilrt picture unveiled. Sbo did not ! J reply, but taking my hwod led me to the : ( i library. She would tell me all, she said, ; { for, perhaps we might never meet again. : | Mrs. Tborntmi told bar story briefly.— ' | . She was the only child of wealthy parents, < and married at the age of nineteen. For three years she was bappy in the pleasant - home to which her bnsband took bvr ; than i I a elond of midnight darkness overshadow- | ed that home. Some one envying her, cir - calated reports injariona to her reputation. - and these coming to bar husband's ears, he, 1 1 bring naturally of a>J<oos disposition, be- I lievad tham. The wife loved btr hneband devotedly, and being innocent, how coold i she bear patiently his tauots aed uncalled, i for snrvelHanoe ? So she proposed returning to ber parental home, and the husband j said Go, ootj sha masi leave her child.— She did go, and three days after, her pat reals being dewi. ahe Weal to Knrope, wbeee she remained night years. Betnrof .fog to America, ahe came to Now Haven, I where, uwder the name of Thornton, the j had Aset' sesided. J Own ahw Usttsd the ; ; .

home of. bar husband during his absence, | 1 and bribing the housekeeper by the present J I of a well-filled perse, procured his portrait; . i and in all ber waaderinge It bad haen bar i I companion, though closely veiled lest some ' one should recognize it, and thos her early JJ , become food for idle gosaip^FbwflTI i ; too, she had seen ber child, and for a brief J i ! period pressed it to ber bosom, words I I could not express the agony >»f her\br*ak- | | ing heart ss she turned aw-ty from ber j i I child. I I " Yoo?"hu«b*nd'< name," I said, sinking I I at lirr feel unit gaping wnnderingly into i I ! her pale fkCu nntl the dark lii|«id «yus boot ! | . so li.tmgly upon me. for a slrutige bop" j made my heart throb wildly. " I cuonot repeat bis uaine, but you may 1 1 upon bis counterpart," the aaid, ris- ! rilowly. almost revercntiy, she pot back i the folds ni thai silken veil, while I Stood, < i hall biytlhieas, beside ber. Was it a ! dream. it a reality * There was no oiistaking that likcnfos ; and involuntarily { the words "^1; Father!" burst from my ' lips- Then, like a .wiftly moving pannraJ ma, it all pasted before my mind, and throwing my arms arnunil her neck. 1 culled : •• My mother —my long. lost mother ! My < father told me all yesterday. I Said, when | ; I had become more calm. '■ He learned I | the reports were without foundation, and ^ ' hearing you had gone to Europe, for three venn has he sought yoa there and his ' is sail because he can find no trace I of yoa. Will yon see him * Sha did not reply, hut 1 road ber answer the beaming eve, and hastily donning ] . bonnet and mantle, ran to the hotel, where I surprised my father by rouning breathless ! hit room. . I " Come with me ; Mrs TfTornton will see j ' you now " 1 said, nervously clutching his 1 arm and pulling him toward the door; but | I he resisting, asked wilat had incurred to \ eicilu me so. It was not there that 1 would explain, so lie followed the rapid ' a'.ong the street i»ud np the sha- ' .led walk ; but when 1 threw upon the door ' thc TTbVary he paused. - •• She is here- -come" I said drawing ' him into the library. She had naen ; how , 1 lovely she looked 'ben — her pale brow, her I ' bright eye, and n crimson spot burning en ' either cheek One moment my father stood ! as though chained t<. the spot, then aiivan- ' ' "Flora, my wife!" , •• Herbert !" was the soft reply, and she, sins clsspe ldn his arm", i " Forgive and forget the past." I heard I . a manly voice murmur ; and then my name was repeated in soft accents. I went Jo ' my mother's side, and the happy hn-banil and father pressed his wife and child Id his ' as in reverent tones !ie implored tiod | 1 to bleat our reunran. Tha veiled picture »n« nnielled, the j ' I mystnry of the library solved -. and return- j | to oar Western home, once more n hay- | ,| family group dwelt beneath its roof. A ' , gentle, i.-ving wife and mother was the ' guiding star of that home. RFAD, READ, j Read continually, only reserving such , time for<relaxation and the dalies of lif« | yonr aquation may require. Don't til | with yonr hands folded nnJ month open, doing nothing ; these are minutes which Br" WM^inE — minates make hoars, I hoars mtke days and weeks, and all cotnj bined are swiftly flying toward eternity. — j then read !— read everything and anything, | exeept low and trashy subjecLs ; there i» no branch of art or scieoce or of literature from which", properly peruved, you- may not i get some trainable information. The differ enee between the reader and the slngeard, who a!t« in the rocking chair asleep of an evening, is ss great as the contrast between a fool and a sensible person ; the former goes about the world, eeea, hears, thinks an^l digests the rap«tte-«f ;hls oheervaiion daring his travels ; he will presently give these reflection* to the world io a new vsnd interesting shape, and thus make other readers. Bet the Haggard *ii a nieleit character and not worth the ink to describe him. Bead an almanac if yoa nonot get a paper; and ha most be poor indeed, aa the bard stageth, who cannot afford a sabecription to soma joarnal in this age, i.f the world. At all evaale leave ao mean* ontri -J to coltlvate aed improve the spare boar* which yon will have daring the win. term ratua. iryoutntoke, read I— If yoa are waiting somewhere on bosifle**, take out yonr papea and pe«ee iu oohubns *you

J Will soon find the advantage* of I bo firar. We have a great rejmtation a* a j reading nation; w • paragraph "^toTthe rounds of the press some time ago. whiHpr f " intended Tor a Joke, bat it wu indKli- \ l%a compliment ;,lt aaid that IT a traveler " _ I abhswd-want into a room where there were j a numbc ofV mericans. be woeld be anre to tee two-LMrds or them reading sewspaI So Jfo will. This is to. their moral advancement aod benefit, always tnppoeing ( tb*i menial food lo be of a wholesome na- ; end the fei ore or any people who are readers sod thinker* is Just as curtain to he i glorious as it is an established fact thgA water finds its level. "Intellects find their j level ; they Ond ibew in one way or another—in the newspaper*, through tint mageor in the heavier essays which require I patient toll and thought to eltnllfOo "mail elaborate. Then read ! continue to peruse every scrap of informalioo within year reach ; there is gold everywhere. Oalffeeo is has not I h# only gold mines la tho country ; there are solid nuggets laid ap on the shelves of the Astor Library which all lb* Wrailb of the Indies is powerless, through itself, to produce; there are •tore, of informalioo of every kind under tbe sun | within your reach, that cannot perish j Time shall overwhelm all things and rqpder j mines nseles«, gemt of no valoe. 'Me thief | may in an hour destroy the labor of a lifetime in occti mulaling a fortuob. but no j power, short of a divine one. can wre«t the I riches of n well-storod mind frM^ilt posi te.sor Again we say— refohZjMeW, ! Amtrienn. « 5slf R3irx:r. ' One nf the strongest aod most prevalent incentives lo virtue is tbe desire of tb« i world's esteem. We act right rather that j our aetioos may be applauded by others than to have the approbation of owr own conscience ; we refrain from doing wrong, | not so mach from principle •• front foe fee, of incurring thv censors of the world. A dun regard ought, indaed, to be paid to the public opinion, but there is a regard w» owe ourselves, of far greater importance— a . frhich-kfvpMfoAwna.eaaunrtitog, . wrong action when withdrawn from tk« ; observation of lbs woHd as mock as when ; exi»>*ed in us broad glare. If we are as ■ goon u> others— and it is oar own fault if we ore net— why stand In more fear of ofo. Ihsn ourselves? What is there in other men thai makes ni desire their approbation an J feer ihwir censure more than our owo f In oth-r respects we are apt to overrate ; ourselves in our own esteem. We admire ■ the sonliment of Catsius when, speaking of C*«sr, he exclaimed — " I sa lief not >w, ll,« In !»,■ ol nuflh a being ss Hjeelf.1A CHILD'S IDEA. Some months since, at tbe time that tbe I Richmond papers made mention of foe confirmation of Jeff. Davis in tbe ebnreis, and whec it was reported that bis health ■ was (ailing so tbnt he was not probably ! long for this wurld, a little girl having * heard the matter spoken'ofin the family, j asked her mojber whether ' Jeff. Davie j would go tujleavon if he died. Tha snoI tber repliv'd that the did not know any. thing ebouhiL aod declined giving any direct answer. Well," said tbe little girl. " fovre is one thing that I know." Ikisg askvl what it wall, she said, " I knvwv- r Jeff. Davis goti to Hearen Washingtoj won't sopnk to him!" DEPTH OP Ot/IET PROP Lb. Soma men draw apon yoa like the Alp*. / They impress yon rsgnely at flrst, just a* do the hundred faces yoa meet iu yonr dsn- v ly walks. \hey cqgne across yonr borismv like floating clooda. and yon bare to watcb awhile before you tee that they are mountains. homo men remind yoa of qaiel lakes, placet such as yos have oftee happened upon, where the green ttitf end the Bellflower hang over yon and are reflected eat or the water all day long. 8eme day or other, yoa carelessly drop a Una .into tbw clear depths, close by the side of the dai. sis* and daffodils, and it goes down, doww, down. 5 Yon lean over and aoead deeper, bat yoerliaa doesn't bring ep. What < V, j deep spel that hf yen think. aa£ yon try another. - Tha reflected daisies seem to smile at yon oat of the water. Ahe tarf looks ' es green as svwr. bet these is ao shallow I spot bsneath. Yoa never thaeght it, tot yonr qaiat lake ia all around en fathomed InmiaH tN less kapreseed from the i act that ilia aqefoUaka. — CTTakt "the Ocsan Wars."