Rates of Advertising. Onfitfqnare (1 iix li, no insertion - '. OnoHuuiire " onoinonlli - - :' 1 n ni.I iLif.U KVHIIY wtMM'..! w, !;T r1 pa One Square " tfirwimmtlii (iioSfii!iro mm j'rur - 'IVoNcinnrex, oik? venr -Qur.rterOl. ' - - . - i i ; i ''i (ii, i.'i :; rii it. :; l il ! ! 1 y Halt One V TCKMa, 11.03 TFAIt. N S'i'.iTipt'.'.nc rrx-' i vod for a shorter "m than l.i.r. o (non-JiH, f '")7f" xviii loiii-.i snlieitcd H-om ft!! pari of the country, No notice will betaken of twiouymous communications. L.-Kal notice at established ro'- 1 M'irrine and death itoticox, prut i. All bills lor yearly advertisement lected quarterly. Temporhry ndvertls" mento must be paid for in advance. Job work. Cash on lit! 1 very. VOL. XIV. NO. 2. TIONESTA, PA., APElL 0,1881. 31.50 Per Annum, Ii ' i -. i A r r L I it i i : i4 $500 KWISD Overadlioil or AFrsl.Guifeo'fe's KKKNCU Kianey Pa3s Have already been sold In thin country and in a .'Fran; every , -i one oi wmcn na l t e n porjeet ratislacrinu anil has performed Cures -verv limn when waH ac cording to dirco U ns. We now ay to the afflicted an! dmibHnjj one that we will ptiy the aUive reward for a tinglo cno ot XiAJkllS BA.CK. That the Pad Wis to ohm. This Great Rem edy will pooitiTnly and permanently enru r,m'-(ro Lame Bark, Seintion, Gravel, D-h-beies, I iiopsy Bright.-' Li"tmo oi the Kid ney, I neon lneee and Retention "I the Urine, nr) -inmntion nl tho Ivdney, OitaiTi ol tho f II elder, H'Kh Colonxl Urine, Pain in the Bck, Side or L"in, Nurvon- WeAkna-M, and in taot all diHnnteia i tie Ulu lde.ran l UiinHty Organs, whether .coutraoteiJby pii ala d Kraut or otherwino. L 11 ICS, it yon are eulT. iin(t from Fetnnln Wt alKi ea. Lenoorrbea, or any disi & at tliu Kidneys, Bladder or Urinary Orunun, YOU CAN BE CURED I Without iirallowing nanaeoaa medicines, by .imply wearing PFOP. (in KM KITE'S FRENCH KIDNEY PAD. WHICH OL'SU Br AIISUHPTIO.V. Ask yoor droKKlt for 1'iut. Gidltnetto', French Eldney IV1, and tike no oihei II be hk not (oi it, nd $2 and you will receive the Pad by retara mail. TMrmomAU t bom tbb fioflb. Jude Buchanan, lAyer, Toledo, O., myt; One ol Proi. Ouilmetie's French Kid"Oy Pd eared me ol Lumhajto la three weuk' titne. Hj ea bad been fciven tip by the het distort a toeurable. JhirinK all thi Uuih I '.ifl.tred anioid tgeay m1 pal 1 out large uuih of money." Gorce TU, 3. P., Toledo. O , aayai " 1 nffered to three yean with Soiatioa and Kid ney Dlaeaa, u4 ones had to so about on cratahee, I waa entlruly and permanently 1 enrea inwwwinni rrol. Uaumette a Prench Ki Inay Pad tear weeka." I Sq .iit N. O. Scott, Sylranift, Ol, write: ' I kv ba a rreat iuffsrer lor 15 yearn 'h '"fht'a'fia ol the Kidneya. For w. u.o . t ja nmibte to get out ol xl j tcoK barrels Wiioidk:ilMj bat they gT me only temporary relief. . I wore two of Prol. Guiltneue'a. Kidney Pada aix weeka, and 1 now know 1 am entt el? enred." Urn Hlen Jerome, Toledo, O., aayai "For y?arr I hT bet a confined, a fnwtt Mrt ol the I'iik to my bed with Le'iorrhea ai.d Female V. neaa. 1 wore one ot Guilmette't Kidney ad, and waa eured in one month. ' 11 B. Green, Wholeeale Grocer, Plndlay, Ol, write i u I offered 23 years with lama jiwok and in three weeks was prtnaneutly Vnred by wearing one ol Prof. Guilmettes B. r KnenltriR, H. D , Draeirtst, IKane. rt Ind.. when aendina In an order lor Kid- uey Pa Is, wri ea: 1 wore one of the first onus we had and ( received m re benefit Irom t thha unytlanx I ever nsad; in fact the Pad4 ve bei 'r eeneial aamtaoUon than any Kid. tn-v rt-uiK.ly we ever sold. ' liny ft -tiioeniftkcr, DiugiM, Hannibal, Mo. i v" VVe are working up a lively trade i.t your I'ails, and are hearing of good results iom tuem every Hay. ForeleryG W HOWARD. Tloneeta, Pa, a CENTS, td POsiTPAIX TREATISE . on Tuts uuium ms di 1 errc kaUl intnlnlna nn IikIo jc of Ila oaHioat-wtvto It 1 ve theHyinp. tonm, Oniie. and tHe Jtowt Treutmont of h, A. Table irl vtiifj ' tUo irltHaI trut itcti rr tli lloi". vrltn tlio ordliiury lo, fl'uotai, stixd nntldoto when ilao. A. -Pablo rltU nn liiitrrovlua of the llfli'Ho'ii Tetli At tUH'or nt ui;ea "VFltU Jttlo Tor tell Hits tHo utre. A. valuable ool- levtlon of lleoelpts ana vuluablo lnfor niatlon lGl-FII WT Nnt posit- dreisi'itlte C,nlt';l tnlen r Oarraclufor OCEHTG. CLOU KATES: PtveCoP't'S -mm 81. OO Ten Copi ' Twenty C .r-Ut 3.00 Ono Muri.j' u-o Oopl IO-00 I'o t-ije Stamps received. 1 1 immm mi, Wmth St.. r. V, , "Vi.lr"' j 1 1 p . Vt Mj KJghii. . Ten, God baa mado me a woman, And I tn content to be Just what lie meant, not reaching otit , For otbei" thing-, eince lie WUo knows me beet and loves me most has "r dered this for mn. A woman, to live my life out In quiet womanly ways, Hearing the far-off battle, Beoing as throngh a haze The crowding, struggling world of men fight through thoir busy days. I am not strong nor valiant, I would not Join the light Or jostle with crowds in the highways To sully my garments white;. But I have rights as a woman, and here I claim my right The right of a rose to bloom. In its own ewoot, separate way, With none to question the perfumed pink And not to ntter a nay If it reaches a root or points a thorn, as even a roue tree may. Tho right of tho lady-birch to grow, To grow as the Lord shall please, - By never a sturdy oak rebuked, Denied nor sun nor breeze, Fur all its pliant slenderuees, kin to the Rtrongor trees. The right to a life of my own Not tnorely a casual bit Of somebody else's life, filing ont That taking hold of it, I may stand as a cipher does after a ntimcra writ, Tho right to gather and glean What food I need and can From the garnored store of knowledge . Which man has heaped for man. Taking with free hands freely and after an ordered plan, The right ah, best and eweeteBt I To stand all dismayed Whenever sorrow or want of sin Call for a woman's aid, With none to cavil or question, by never a look gainsaid. I do not auk for a ballot ; Though very life were at stake, I would beg for tho nobler justice That men for manhood's sake Should give ungrudgingly, nor withold till I must fight and take. The fleet foot and the feeble foot Both sock tho" self-same goal, . Tho weakest soldier's name is writ On tho great anny-roll, And God, who made man's body strong, ms.de too the woman's soul. Susan UoolUlge. LOLA. THB STOKY OP AS OCEAN VOTAOE. I wan homeward-bound from one of my various excursions across the ocean, by which I had for many years beguiled the tedium of my monotonous bachelor existence, and having settled my belong ings in my stateroom, I turned out to take a survey of my fellow-passengers. It was autumn and the last of the summer tour ists were returning, and both saloons and decks were crowded with animated groups, livery one seemed cheerful ant gay, and already several embryo flirta tions could be detected among the younp feople, of whom the passengers wen. argely composed. Being an outside myself, traveling alone, and having left such tender pursuits far back in th i vagueness of tho past, I amused myself with merely watching and listening, ant' it is perhaps not surprising that 1 soon found myself wearied. It was for th. most part such senseless chatter, such arrant frivolity that I heard, such con scions posing and airy fluttering that 1 saw. Ul course alter a while I found ex ceptions to this tendency, but the quiet and sensible people on board, as usual, occupied the back ground. Failing to find myself interested then in these surrounding, I began a lois urely inspection of the vessel, wandering about its nooks and crannies, and famil iarizing myself with my little island home. And so strolling along, I came upon a small, quiet, gray-clad figure seated alone and looking wistfully ovef the waters. As she was quite unconscious of my proximity, I stepped a few paces off and examined her closely, fche looked almost a child, bo small and slight she was, and yet ono would not have dared to treat her as a child. There was a self reliance and serenity about her entirely unchildlike, but, all the same, very pretty to see. Her comph xion was dark and very rich, and her cheeks charm ingly rounded and curved, and her eyes, turned seaward, were the largest and darkest I ever remembered to have seen. Indeed, so uncom mon was their size that, when some sound arousod her and she turned them slowly on me, I was dazzled by them they gave her face such a strange aspect, and yet it was a peculiarity far from being unlovely. She was Spanish I had seen that at a glance and the mute, uncertain way in w hich she looked at me prompted the conviction that she felt herself, even at the outset of this voyage, hampered by the fact that she knew no other tongue. After that one long, steady glance, she turned her face away again and I heard her sigh gently. After a moment's hesitation I moved just a step nearer and addressed her in her own language, asking if it was her first i vovage. She turned with a swift impulsive smile and looked at me again. The great eyes were radial t with pleasure, and, with an exquisite utterance thut made rny own ?j'(iriili seem a harsh brogue, she fvtt rWf.lv and tat'u-jily tl.at was going to America for the first time, and, indeed, was for the first time at sea. "Yon will be seasick almost certainly, then," I said. "Are you prepared for that?" "Oh, yes," she answered. "I have hoped that perhaps I might not be, but I amprcpared for anything." There was a patient resolution in her tones that piqued my curiosity, espe cially as she presently informed me she was all alone and going simply under the captain's care. She was full of joy at meeting Borne ono who spoke- her lan guage, and constantly intermingled with her talk little ejaculatory expressions of thanks, which seemed to have ,no application beside the general one of my knowing Spanish. When the bell sounded for dinner, I took her down. My arm, which was rather timidly offered, being promptly and gratefully accepted- After that I used to seek her always before meals and take her in with me, and once, when something detained me and I was a little late, I found her waiting for me. I think thepeople of the vessel thougt that we were companions from the start, and some me alluded to her once as my daughter, uid although I hastily corrected this, I willingly let it be supposed that she was traveling under my care. In the sim plest and most natural fashion she learned to defer to me and lean on my decisions, and, by-and-bye, to confide in me. It was one evening that we had been sitting together a long time, idly talking about the weather and the ship, and wondering how long we should have it so fair, when she turned to me, in her soft Spanish speech, that loses so incal culably by translation, and said : " I want you to tell me about your people and your home." I felt as if her little, soft, plump hand badjjJealt a blow upon my bare heart; but r answered, simply: " I have no home, and my people are all dead or gone from me that is, my parents and sisters and brothers, for I never hail a wife or a child, which is what you meant, perhaps." " Yes ; I meant that. It is so sad. I thought, perhaps, you might have a daughter like me, and that made you bo kind." " No, I have no daughter," I said slowly; "though I am, in truth, old enough to be your father." " And you have nevdr loved any one never waniea to De married to some one who was good and beautiful and kind? How strange ! " These questions were scarcely marked by any interrogative accent. She seemed to be merely stating them as facts, with a gentle reluctance. But, though she expected no answer from me, I was irre sistibly prompted to confession. "Yes, Lola," I said, "I knew some one like that once, and I loved her. But it was long ogo, and we were parted." "Oh, why did you part?" she said, passionately. " Why lid you suffer any thing to part you ? Was she not willing to give up all, to leave home and friends and country and everything to follow love, as I have done ?" Urged on by a deep excitement, she had revealed her secret, and I half feared she would repent and try to retract it, but she did not. She seemed either to be unconscious that anything had been divulged, or unconscious of the fact that I had not known it all the time. " You do well," I said, fervently. " It is worth the. sacrifice. God grant you do not repent it." " I have no fear," she said, confidently. " Fear could not live in my heart, which holds a perfect love." Then, so simply and naturally, 8he told me her story. She had become en gaged to a young American sent out to Spain as agent for some New York busi noss firm, and he had gone home a few months ago, expecting to return; but his superiors had made other arrange ments, and he had written that although he would be stationary in New York thereafter, he was coming back to marry her and bring her to her home in the new world. At the time set for his ar rival, however, he had sent a letter in stead, saying an attack of illness pre vented his coming, but he was now con valescent, though the physicians said he must not taEe the voyage for some time, " When i got that letter," said Lola. " I could do nothing but cry and fret for the first two or three days. 1 did not eat or sleep, and my aunt, whom I lived with, 6aid I would dio, and was very hard and cross. I was utterly wretched, until ono night as I lay thinking it all over I resolved that I would go to him. tie had once, half-hesitatingly, suggested it, saying it would save so much expense, md he is not at all well off : but it had frightened me so that he gave it up, say ing he would spend all he had, sooner than give me the anxiety and trouble of such a voyage. But now now that he was ill and alone I could think no longer of my dread ; indeed, it was gone, and all I thought of was to go to him, and comfort and nurse and take care of him. So I got my aunt's consent, thoutrh she would not give it at first, and I took the very next steamer. And see how easy and pleasant it has been ! He need not have been afraid for me; but. then. he could not know, and neither could I, that 1 should nnd you ! Her ardent tone and look, as she said these last words, tlirilled me strangely. It waa a spontaneous, affectionate out burst that pained while it caressed me. And beside my own personal feeling, a dreadful misgiving alout her weighed on my nean. one was so connaect, so full of trust what if she should be de ceived in this man ? What if the attack of illness were t more subterfuge ? Such things hud been. I turned coi.l and then h-t at the lucre r-.'.'"-, o:i. I a?.kc-l her lover's name, but it was unknown to me, though the name of the house he repre sented was familiar. But that went for nothing as to the man's personal charac ter, and the fear that this might be treacherous made me sick with dread. What would be the end, if my' appre hensions proved correct? What would become of the poor child? A wild thought suggested itself. It was a strange mixture of deep pity for her and deep joy, tempered with pain and yet sweet with hope, for myself At last the vovage was over, and the realization of tkis fact made me unac countably sad. For Lola was dearer to me every day. In her little attacks of illness, which she had not altogether escaped, I had carried her about in my arms, like a child, and she had leaned on me and looked up to me with a child ish confidence and trust that was un speakably sweet to the lonely old bachelor whose attitude toward this young girl had seelned to touch his age and world-weariness with a magic wand that had made them drop from him like a garment. Lola and I stood together on deck, all our bags and parcels strapped and ready for moving. She had not told her lover she was coming, and of course he would not meet her. I reproached her for not having telegraphed, feeling a strange re luctance to pro and hunt him up, but she answered simply that Bhe could not af ford it. All her money was required for the voyage, and, "Besides," she added, quickly, blushinpr like arose. "I wanted to give him the joy of the surprise." " And if," I said, reluctantly. " if h should not be here, or anything, have you not money to return ?' Uut he is bound to be here: nothintr like that could happen. And if he were away I should wait till he returned. I have no money to go home if I should want to, but there's not much danger of my wanting." Heavens! what trust, what exmusite feeling, what beautiful belief in love ! And if he should prove unworthy I Y hen we stepped ashore, Lola and I got into a carriage, which I ordered to take us to a hotel. She let mo arrange everything just as I chose, and we had agreed to go together to the hotel, and then I was to find- her lover and send him to her. I saw her safely seated in her little parlor, and then, as it was early morning, l ordered a dainty breakfast there and we ate it tete-a-tete. I don't think either had much appetite, though I taxed nir wits to tiie uttermost on the menu and had even given a lavish order for flowers. tried to t-hink of everything thai- could give her pleasure, lor I felt almost certain of a impending calamity and I .looked again and again into her Bweet face trying to fix its look of happiness in my mind, And she was happy ! Her voice was ioy- ous as a loik's and her face as radiant as day. I would fain have lingered a while to bask in this bright sunshine, but she was feverishly impatient and eager that I should be gone. I think she grudged me the boon of seeing him first, for, she made me promise that I would not tell him of her presence, but bring him back with me under some pretext if I form him well, and return and take her to hir if he was ill. In either event, she had settled it in her mind that they wei e tv, be married that very day. ' W hen I was ready to go I went u n to her and took her hands in mine. "Lola," I said, "whatever lies before you, whether joy or sorrow, remember that you have me always for your mend. You must rely upon me as you would upon your 1 paused and then said "father, It was an effort, but I forced myself to say it. ihen, before leaving, 1 stooiwd and kissed her sweet lips. It was the first time and would probably be the last and I valued it as people do value what can come to them but once. When I reached the house, the address of which Lola had given me, I inquired for her lover he was gone. The woman who kept the house could give no infor mation except that she thought he had gone West. I was unfeignedly distressed. In that moment I rose above self and thought only of Lola. How shall I describe the scene that followed my announcement to the little creature? The heart-rending grief, tho wild denial of her lover's faithlessness! She utterly refused to believe it. She would far 'sooner, he said, think that he was dead. After her first outburst of passionate grief was over, 6he calmed herself and said, stand ing up: " I must go away; I must not stay here." The sight of her agony almost killed me. "Oh, Lola," I said, "where?" She flung herself back on the lounge with a motion of utter despair. I went to her and threw myself on my knees beside her and folded both her tremb ling hands in mine. " Lola, be brave," I said. "Face the worst. It is a bitter thing to say, but I believe he is false to you. I beiieve the illness was a feint, and I believe he is willfully lost to you. My little darling, it is hard I know, bnt not so bad as if you had married him and found it out after ward. But do not despair. I will not leave you, and you shall tell me just what you would have me do. I will take you back to Spain if you want to go." " I cannot ! I could not bear it I And I have no money." "Never mind that " 1 said. " I have plenty, moro far more than I want. I would give my life to comfort you. I will go now, if you say so, and tuke pas sage on the next returning ship." " I could not bear it. I never will go buck," she suid; " no one loves me there. I am only a uw-Ioks little bunkn. I novcr will go buck 1" "Then stay," I said, passionately " stay with me. Iiet me love and com fort you. Stay with me always, Lola. No one can love you as I will." At first I think she did not understand my meaning, but when she did she wrenched her hands from mine and sprang to the middle of the room. "How can you? How can you be so cruel ?" she said. " Do vou think I could ever love any one else after having given my love to him ?. No; I have loved him only I have given him all my love and worthy or unworthy, he has it still." "Lola, my little child," I said, "you must face the truth. You cannot live in this strange country all alone. You have neither friends nor money. You cannot work, and if you could you must not be alone. I cannot help you and maintain you unless you take my name and occupy the honorable position of my wife. But I will not force it on you. For the present I will find some safe place to put yon in, and we will see what can be done. - At all events, whether you can love me or not, I love you and will always love you." " Do you love me ?" she said, facing me and speaking with eager vehemence. " Oh, I do, I do 1" Isaid. " Then find him for me !" I could not speak at once. For one moment a wild hope had budded in my breast, and it would not die without a struggle. Then I looked at her and said, calmly: " I will try. I will do my utmost. I will give it my most conscientious ef forts. But, Lola, if If ail?" " If you fail to find him," she said, " or if you find him to be false, then I will give you the reward you wish. I will marry you." It was not a rapturous consent, but I found a wonderful satisfaction in it, despite my fond sympathy for her. I was not being selfishly happy at her ex pense, for, on my own part, I entirely believed in her lover s treacherousness, though there was nothing that could go lor real proof, it was a foregone con clusion with me, and it was, therefore, only its issue I rejoiced at. In my present state of feeling it was easy to fall into hopeful dreams of tho future ; it was impossible not to. And now, as she sat meekly on the sofa, after all her passionate struggles were over, I felt convinced that, if I could win her hand in the way we had agreed upon, I could also, with time, win her pure heart for my own. It was a clorious goal. Something to live for, something to worn and struggle for. My life and utmost energies had found the incentive they had lacked bo long. Wo fell now into a composed and quiet talk, and she listened patiently while I unfolded my plans for her. But there rested on her lovely face Buch a look of unutterable sorrow that I had to turn my eyes away. How blessed it would be to smooth away this look to recall the gay vivacity of my own bright Lola ! What a happy task ! In spite of all, l felt X should succeed. a lontr suence had lallen unon us both. The room was warm, and I had set open the door leading into the hall I was glad of an excuse to do so, as it took' away Borne of the air of privacy wnicn i leared she might nnd irksome She did not seem to notice my action. but sat facing the door, with her drooped eyes resting on the little hands clasped in her lap. Presently a footstep was heard coming along the hall, and she listlessly looked up. As she did so. the light of a great, ecstatic joy rushed over her face, bhe sprang . to her feet, with the glad cry: Richard !" and flung herself into his arms. He clasped her tight to his heart, and drew her into the room. Was he true or false ? I knew that I need only see his face to tell. In that moment of extreme excitement he would forget to don his mask. He stooped above her ana covered her neck and foco with kisses. Then, after that moment's rap ture, he looked at me. It was a noble face honest, manly and kind. I ought to have been glad, but I heard myself groan. I would have left the room, but Lola detained me, telling her lover in en thusiastic terms how kind I had been, and begging him to thank me, which-Jjj did in such terms as only a good and honorable man could have used. I had to listen, too, to his explanation. He had, indeed, gone West, having accepted a promising appointment which would give him permanent aud remunerative employment. Having settled matters there, he had obtained leave, and was now on his way to Spain and Lola. It was all as clear as day. That very evening they were married. I was the only witness besides the cler gyman, and I never will forget tho radi ance of her face as I watched it during the service. I rather feared her joy might be dimmed by some remember ing thought of me, but it was not so. I don't think she ever comprehended my feeling for her, and, of course, it pleased her to fancy now that it hod been chiefly pity for her loneliness. The service ended, there remained nothing but to take Lola to a jeweler's 6hop near-by and let her choose a pres ent from me, which she munificently paid for with a kiss. It was, indeed, the last ! "Do you realize it, Angelica," whispered Clarence to lis betrothed ; " only two weeks more and we will be one ; but, remember, darling. I am to be that one." And then the angelio creature silently stole to the piano and touchingly warbled: "Oh, to be Nothing l'i He who can plant courage in tho hu man soul is the bebt physician. Hoe Out Yon r Kow. One day a lazy farmer boy Was hoeing out the corn, And moodily had listened long To hear the dinner horn. Tho welcome blast was heard at bvt, And down he dropped his hoe; But the good man shouted in his ear: " My boy, hoe out your row." Although a " hard ono " was tho row, To use a plowman's phrase, And the lad, as sailors havit, Beginning well to " haze," " I can," he said, and manfully He seized again his hoe And the good man smiled to pee The boy " hoe out his row." The lad the text remembered long, And proved the moral well, That perseverance to the end At last will nobly tclL Take courage, man I reeolve yon an, ' And strike a vigorous blow; In life's great field of varied toil, Alway "hoe ont your row." UTJ2H0B OP THE DAY. Mtssaa A man bora at sea cannot be proud of bis native land. The business of this world hi steered by the tillers of the soil. Three periods of life: Youth mumps ; middle age, bumps ; old age, dumps. A sick man is considered out. of danger when the doctor discontinues bis visits. A lady friend says that bachelors ore like a batch of biscuits, good enough after they are mixed. The ordinary life of a locomotive is thirty years. Possibly it would live longer if it didn't smoke. Young people are always ready to adopfr the "latest wrinkle." It is the fir st wrinkle that they object to. Boston Transcript. Gen. Clingman, of North ' Carolina, says living is so cheap in that 6tate that it is more economical to feed a man than to bury him. ' It is harder to get ahead in this world," said Clorinda's young man, as her father assisted him out of the door with his boot, " than it is to get a foot." "Don't you think," said a husband, mildly rebuking his wife, " that women are possessed by Satan?" "Yes, as Boon as they are married," was the quick reply. . Gladstone goes to church with a pin holding his shirt cuffs together in place of a button, but if all waited for buttons there would be no sermons. Hang a statesman who can't make a shingle nail answei for a Buspender button. Dctioit Fr:e Press. The LIfo of an Actress, Mr. Labouchere recently said in an article in Truth on the London stage : Actresses live in j world of their own. They generally exaggerate every senti--ment. Their real lifcris tinged with their theatrical life, and high-wrought melodrama becomes a second nature to them. Few of them have a perfectly sane notion of existence ; they exist in. the feeling of .the moment. .They r re generally incapable of taking an inter est in the ordinary occupations of thoir sex ; at one moment they ore in the wildest spirits, at another in the depth of despair, and those witli. whom they come in contact are alternately either melodramatio villains plotting their destruction, or angelic beings that have no existence out of plays. If they are asked why they love or hate, they iniiist that they are endowed with a peculiar instinct, and this instinct they exalt as something far superior to practical in telligence, and glory in being its sub missive slaves. There are certain qual ities which go to make an actress, and most of them go to make a lunatic. All actresses are, of course, not neces sarily mad, but if I were on a jury im paneled to try an actress for murder, I should approach the inquiry with the feeling that nature had probably not been lavish to her in that harmony of intellectual powers which produce moral responsibility. "Diamond Cut Diamond." . Crossing tho Kocky mountains once, says a correspondent, I saw an amusing : illustration of the hardness of corundum. A traveling peddler undertook in the cars to sell a large "diamond" ring to a miner whd had made his pile. " Humph," said the miner, after critically examining the ring, "they've got common stone up in the diggings where I've been that'll ' cut that diamond all to pieces!" "If you'll find a piece of stono that will cut that diamond I'll give it to yon," re- ; plied the peddler. "All right," said the miner, "if I can't cut thut 'diamond'.' with a stone I'll buy it of you." There upon tho miner took tho ring in his hand and pulled from his vest pocket a small piece of brown-looking stone, similar to a bit of dark free-stone, except that the grain was very fine, and with this he proceeded coolly to cut and scratch that "diamond" with several, ugly-looking gashes. A group of pas sengers that hud gathered about tluv miner were amazed, but whiht they snickered the peddler with his "diamond' withdrew discomfited. "That liit! piece ot brown stone," explained ti A miner, " is a l'ioco of corundum t i c got in the Hocky mountains, an. i' , bett diamond tester in the Vi.il ! won't scar a genuine dimum:,!, i will evei'lii.stingly cut up a pi r or quartz."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers