ound on the hill. One day Mr. P--came home at the usual hour, and,
missing the wife's customary greeting, he asked the children where she
was. The children had not seen their mother for two or three hours, and
looked startled when they found she was missing. Messengers were sent to
the nearest neighbors to make inquiries, but no one had seen her. Mr. P
----'s face began to wear a troubled look as he walked the floor, from
time to time going to the door and casting anxious glances about the
premises.

"About dusk a sudden shriek was heard, issuing from the water-tank in the
yard, and the Irish servant-girl came rushing from it, with eyes
distended and face pale with terror.

"Holy Mother of God! It's the Missus that's hanged herself!"

The alarm spread, and soon a crowd, curious and sympathetic, had
collected. They found the poor lady suspended by the neck from a beam at
the head of the staircase leading to the top of the inclosure. She was
quite dead, and a horrible sight to see. At the inquest no facts were
developed throwing any light on the tragedy. There had been no cloud in
the sky portending the lightning stroke that laid the happy little home
in ruins. The husband testified that she was as bright and happy the
morning of the suicide as he had ever seen her, and had parted with him
at the door with the usual kiss. Every thing about the house that day
bore the marks of her deft and skillful touch. The two children were
dressed with accustomed neatness and, good taste. And yet the bolt was
in the cloud, and it fell before the sun had set! What was the mystery?
Ever afterward I felt something of the feeling expressed by my lady
friend when, in passing, I looked upon the structure which had been the
scene of this singular tragedy.

One of the most energetic business men living in one of the foothill
towns, on the northern edge of the Sacramento Valley, had a charming
wife, whom he loved with a deep and tender devotion. As in all true
love-matches, the passion of youth had ripened into a yet stronger and
purer love with the lapse of years and participation in the joys and
sorrows of wedded life. Their union had been blessed with five children,
all intelligent, sweet, and full of promise. It was a very affectionate
and happy household. Both parents possessed considerable literary taste
and culture, and the best books and current magazine literature were
read, discussed, and enjoyed in that quiet and elegant home amid