VOL. LY. PROFESSIONAL CARDS OF BELLEFONTE- C. T. Aiexauuer. o. M. newer. \ LEXANDER uld ill brook the apparent neglect of her most favored lorcr. Could Harry have seen her as she hast ened to her own little room, aid there, throwing herself on the bed, gave way to a hearty cry, he would not have felt so bit terly "angry at the petulant beauty's words. "I won't cry any more," said she; "he will be sure to come to-morrow, and then 1 will be good and make it up with him. He must know 1 didn't mean what I said of that conceited Frank Churchill! 1 hate him and I only danced with him to tease Lizzie liandall, who makes love to him so openly. Harry is worth a thousand such as he! Coming, father!" she cried out, as she heard his voice calling her. "Where have you been pussy? I have good news for you. Harry Ainory was j sent for yesterday by the squire, and he has beeu promised the steward's place. I always thought the iad would do well. I met Humphrey, the head gardener, and he tells me it is quite settled. Harry was with he squire all day yesterday, going over the accounts. I fancy some one knows who will be mistress of that pretty cottage near the park gates," he added, pinching her cheek. "Ah! here comes Harry. 1 sup pose he'd rather tell ihe good news to you alone; so I'll be off to the kitchcH to get something to eat." Katy's cheek Hushed with pleasure as she heard "the latch raised, and she rose to wel come her lover. What was her disappoint ment and disgust to see —not Harry, but Frank Churchill, who, noticing Katy's ea ger joy. came forward with the greatest alacrity to take her outstretched hand. Poor Katy could scarcely command her self to give the intruder a civil greeting. Her guest, however, evidently considered his presence acceptable, and took no notice of ber euibarassmeut; if he remarked it at all, he rather put it down to the overpower ing honor he was conferring in visiting a mere farmer's daughter. Frank Churchill had come on a visit to his uncle, the village doctor. He had stud ied medieine, but having a small independ ent income, was too indolent to make much progress in his profession, ile was to stay with his uncle six months, and then see it he would be taken as bis partner. As yet he had done nothing toward in gratiating himself with his uncle's patients; but, on the contrary, had caused great heart-burniuge in tbe younger portion of the inhabitants. The men despised him for his conceit and foppishness, whilst he looked down on theui as mere clods. The village lasses were dazzled.by his fashiona ble clothes and many perfumes. Then, again, he had brought from London a Stan hope, wliicli had never been seen in those parts be f ore. Lizzie Randall, the lawyer's daughter, made furious siege to the Adonis, but he treated all with the most supercilious air. Katy Langley alone had passed him by as unworthy of notice; and this from the vil lage beauty, had piqued his vanity. On the day of the picnic, what was his delight to find he had made a favorable impression! He thought it would|be a good way to pass his six month's probation to make love to the city belle. Little did Frank Churchill think he was making a slight impression by liis lisping talk, whilst he stroked his mustache with his delicate looking hand. Even his con ceit would have received a check had he known how indifferent his companion was to his most flattering attentions. Katy was greatly relieved when her father entered the room, and so took her visitor's attention from her. Farmer Lang ley was not pleased to see who his guest was, for be, like most others, looked upon him as an empty headed, affected fellow, The man soon after took his leave, after vainly askinc Katy to allow him to take her for a drive on the morrow. MILLIIEIM, FA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1881. Just as lie was leaving the house he came upon Harry Amory, who, between strug gling with his anger and love was wander ing about the neighborhood of the Home stead, undecided whether to call and make it up with Kaly or not. He had oved bar for a long time, and had only waited to have some settled income before asking her to be his wife. The rector had early taken a fancy to the intelligent lad and had dev >ted many hours to the improvement of his miud. Harry Amory was consequently better ed ucated than most of Ids class. His good friend had not stopped at this, hut had le commended him to the squire, who, Had ing him useful, had employed him in many ways. He was often called upon to per forin the duties of the steward, who was old and intirni. No direct promises had been made by the squire, but still enough had been said to lead Hawy to suppose that upon the death of the old man lie should till his office. All in the village looked for ward to his then askiug Katy to be bis wife, and installing her as mistress of the stew ard's lodge. "So, Amory, 1 nave to congratulate you on your rise in life," said Churchill." Well, my good fellow, make haste ami ftnd a wife to keep you company in your pretty cot tage. Should'ut mind living there myself, am? fancy 1 know one who would be glad to go with me," and ho nodded toward the Homestead farm. "Kale Laugley is not so fav amiss—eh, Amory? and deuced fond of your humble aervaut. Well, la-La; shall be glad to hear just such another has taken a fancy to you." "The heartless coquette! So this is the fool's game she has been playing with me!" exclaimed the irate lover. "So that is a fellow she prefeis to me, who has loved her so long! Lei him have her, 1 say; but I won't stop here to witness their courtship. So this is the end of all my hopesi Just as my desire is accomplished and 1 can offer her a home, I am balked of my greatest treasure. I will be off to the squire ami let him know I have chauged my mind atiout accepting the steward'sotlice. Ned Glover will lie glad enough to have it, so I will be doing no harm. So good-bye, Kate Lung ley!" he cried as he waved his hand toward his Homestead, "May you be happy with your new-found lover!" "Katy, child, what y* this 1 hear? Giles, the plowman, has just brought the ntws that Harry Amory has thrown up his new situation and is gone to London! Wonder if the lad is mad? But what is the matter with the lass? Here, Martha! hurry! Why, the child has fainted!" Katy uuu not fainted; she was keenly alive to her sorrow. So Harry hud taken her hasty words in earnest, and was goue —forever, perhaps. Should she never see him again? Taking the weeping girl in his arms, her fond father soon learned the particulars of the lovers' quarrel. lie saw his child was to blaiue, but could not understand Harry's not attempting to see her again. lie did not know or Ids with Frank Churchill, and the wrong impression thai had beeu made on iiiui. Poor, poor Katy! She was Indeed se verely punished for her petulauce. ***** Three years passed away, and she only heard thai Harry was iu a merchant's office ui Loudon, and doing well. All this time he had never once visited his native place. Obe hated Frank Churchill so thoroughly for bciug connected with her quarrel with Harry that even he could not mistake her sentiment toward him. . He soon ceased to notice her. and often remarked to his femaleadmirere that "Katy Langley was getting decidedly plain." Katy passed her time chiefly in attending to her old lather. She seldom joined her companions in any of the village gayetics, and was entirely changed from the hasty, coquettish beauty who had smitten so many hearts. Many were the offers she had, even now, but she turned a deaf ear to them all, vowing within to remain true to her love for Harry. "Katy, there's to be a grand cricket match next week; so get your finery ready, child, aud we will both go to see it," said Farmer Laugley. "1 was a good hand at a bat in my young days, but I hear they have some new-fangled mode of bowling, which I should like to sec." Katy remembered, with a sigh, that Harry had been the best bowler iu the vil lage, but she quickly smothered it, and promised to be ready. Very lively she looked on the Saturday afternoon when she went with her father to the cricket-field. Her complexion was still as purely white and her cheeks as rosy as when, throe years ago, she had parted from Harry. But now, added to this, was more sensibility—more heart in the expres sion of her face, and her soft, blue eyes, though bright as ever, were more often cast down. Not a word had her father said us to who was expected to join the cricketers. Harry Amory, after sa long an alienee, had come on a visit to an aunt in tbe neigh boring town. His old comrades of the cricket club had soon looked up their best bowler, aud upon his play they chiefly de pended to beat their antagonists "Ah, Amoryj glad to sec you again!" The voice was Frank Churchill's. "Just married, you know, and spending a few weeks with tne old man before settling in London. Deuced slow hole, this, to pass one's day 8 in. Got the old fellow to advance me enough money to purchase a practice. You know my wife, I tlunk? Will go aud bring her to speak to you," "Ah, Harry! how are you, my lad? Glad to see you again! Ifow long do you intend to stop among us? But I must not keep you,*' said Farmer Langley, "for there's the umpire calling you to play. Shall see you again presently." Harry's party were very nearly disap pointed of their victory. He played so recklessly at first that the Aiusworth Club was delighted. All at once ho seemed to brace himself for the struggle,aud one after the other threw down their bats to make room for others, till the match was gained at a single inning, with forty runs to spare. 4 'Gloriously done, Amory," said Church ill. "See your hand has not forgot its cun ning. But come, my wife is in yonder tent, and wishes to congratulate you. Here she comes to speak for herself." Turning quickly roimd to make his es cape, Harry came face to face with a lady. • 4 So glad to see you, Mr. Amory 1 Charm ed to think that you have beaten the Ains worth Club! Don't you find the country dull after London? Ferliaps we shall be neighbors there." "Neighbors, Miss Handall! Your father is not going to move to London —is he?" "Oh, dear, no! And I am not Miss Ran dall," she simpered. "Why, you have lieen talking to my husband; ami only think, you did not know that 1 was married! Fraak, 1 thought you had told Mi. Amory." Harry never kuew what answer he made hut just then catching audit of Farmer Langley coming toward him, he hurried to him and .islouished the worthy man by drawing him aside and ougorly asking if Katy had not once beon engaged to Frank Churchill. "Engaged to Frank Churchill!" exclaim ed the farmer. "What are you thinkiug of? Katy despised the fellow. He's got his match now. Lizzie Randall was always a rare vixen, and her father was only too ghui to give Churchill a round sum of money to marry her. I don't envy him his life with her," "But Katy? It she single, and where Is she?" "Ah, lad! you were over-hastv to take notice of a spoiled child's angry words. She is not far off; 1 left her in oue of 'he tents." Katy watched tho game with the great est interest; she had at once recognized the famous howler, and her heart beat fast as she did so. Would he notice her? There was her father talking to him; and—yes, they were coming toward the tent. Seized with a sudden lit of shyness, Katy made her way out at the back of the tout, but was soon overtaken by Harry. "Katy, dear Katy?" he exclaimed, "tbitv years ag> I left you, thinking you had thrown uie over for Frank Churchill. I was a mad simpleton for believing bis boasting talk. I came to-day expecting to find you his wife, and only just now fouud out how vilely 1 have been deceived. Katy, will you forgive ine wbouyou know 1 have beeu wretched ever since we parted?" Katy's answer is not recorded; but what it was may be guessed from Harry leaving the cricket-fieUl with Katy leaning on his arm. Katy being unwilling to leavvs her father, and the post of steward being again vacant ami a socoud time offered to Harry, he threw up his appointuieut in London and once more settled down in his native place. A t inonth ,after the bells of the village church rang out merrily in honor of the handsome couple who were that day uuited Uullct in tli® Houac of Commons. What do we moan by the "deer penf" Nothing more nor less than the Ladies' Gallery in the British House of Commons, which is a disgrace to the nineteenth cen tury, yet into which it is more difficult to penetrate than into Buckingham Palace. Admission can only be obtained from mem bers, who ballot for scats seven days in advance. As there are 567 members the struggle for seats is animated. Time was when women had equal rights with men in visiting the Commons. As far back as 1675 my sex occupied the Stranger's Gallery—A privilege the}' en joyed until February, 17T8, when a great debate took place on the state of tne uatlou. Tim Duchess of Devon shire, Lady Norton, and oilier c/i dame# not only occupied the seats ordi narily assigned to them, but took posses sion of those under tbe front gallery. Ac cording to "Grey's Debates/' a Captain Johnstone, of the navy, angered that the House should have been cleared of male strangers, among whom were friends he had introduced, insisted upou the with drawal of all si rangers. A rule then ex isted wtiicb enabled any one member to exclude visitors—an abused rule, which has been recently modified. No less than two hours were required to enforce this order, and that two hours' scuffle with the weaker sex led to their banishment from the Commons. From 1778 to 18C4 women obtained a glimpse of the House by looking through a hole over the largest chandelier—a hole constructed to carry off hot air and the smoke of caudles 1 Before the present Houses of Parliament were desigued. when legislation was carried on in a temporary building, women were allowed to stand and peep through eyelet holes bored in a sort of box erected behind the Strangers' Gallery. Far better is tbe sheep-pen of to-day, but it is a pen, Origlually it was divided into three compartments of seven persons each. A dozen years ago, how ever, the dividing walls were removed. Since than other improvements have been made the last of which w the elevation of the ceiling and an attempt at ventilation ; but the gallery still remains small, dark and well-nigh intolerable. Hung high in the air, like a bird-cage, a heavy iron grat ing conceals its occupants from the view of the house, and, unless a woman is for tunate enough to obtain one of eighteen front seam, she sees nothing and hears with difficulty. Yet when, in 1875, Sergeant Sherlock proposed to remove the prison bars he was unmercifully snubbed. Throiurh many windings, up innumera ble stairs, women attain the door leading to their pen. On a visit, one hour before ?he House assembled, it was locked, and a doeen women stood before it ready to make a raid on the front seals. At last the im posing usher appeared, unlocked the door, and the scramble began, but we were stop ped in our mad career by the imperturba ble person in black, who, after comparing our names with those on his list, allowed us to proceed. "This is beantiful, is it not?" said an elderly lady to her compan ion. "What have you brought with you?" "Sherry, sandwiches and some sal vola tile." "Very sensible, my dear," added tbe elderly lady. "Just before leaving home I liau some sausages, because they are staying. Women speak little in this pen, the effect of the grating being depressing. No men are allowed, M. F.'s excepted, who drop in occasionlly to see their friends. The only diversion is tea, or a chop served iu a retiring-room Alarm Telephones. A Chicago police officer suggests the ad dition of telephone boxes to the system of alarm telegraphs iu use in our cities. In connection with the alarm a reserve force is to be maintained at the stations with wagons aud ambulauces, and all the para phernalia necessary for riot or accident. Should it be a murder, robbery, or any other crime, the perpetrators of which have escaped, tbe alarm is to be given to every man in the district by sounding a large bell, which is to be placed upon the roof of the station. Upon hearing this, every of ficer on duty is te run to the nearest tele phone box and correspond with the sta tion; and it is also proposed that they re port by the same meansevery hour, whether anything occurs ou their beats or not. What the key re to the watch the prayer is to our graces. Earning a living. It is very hard to understand how the mass of men live in any large eity, where everything, from a wink of sleep to a mouth ful of food, must always be paid for. But it is ruucb harder to underslaud how women tie out a subsistence; for they have far less strength, inferior health, anil generally rf uch lower wages. It is estimated from reliable sources that some 60,1)00 women in and alxmt the city of Philadelphia alone, earn their own livtng, and that the number steadily increases from yvar to year. They ate of all grades, from serv ants to fashionable modistes, book-keepers, artists aud managers. A number of them are members of intellectual professions, such as medicine, journalism, loctur ug, acting. Not a few of them earn a good deal of money, notably actresses, milliners aud dressmakers, and often they acquire a handsome independence. The profits of actresses are probably higher than those of any other feminine calling; then come mil liners, and next dressmakers. Lecturers have hitherto made considerable money— Anna Dickinson cleared, it is said, $40,000 in one year—but recently the public has card very little for them, the business hav ing beeu overdone and the quality of the lectures having grown very poor. A num ber of women wlio volving beef. "Billy, show madam the lish-bilers." Billy took off a cover neatly balanced by a chain pulley aud weight, and showed in a huge copper kettle, divided into various compartments, the salmon and the striped bass, which were boiling. Steam pipes gave the necessary heat. During the short interval the visitor had spent in examining the other portions of the kitchen, the scene in this particular locality had changed. Now there was a row of voices, a din of feet, aud great odors of cooking meat. Beefsteaks were sputtering ; flares of fire from gushing fat puffed up along a vista of broilers; waiters came rushing in with bowls; plates clattered, and spoons were beaten, tattoo like, on the china. Tbe clock poiuted to 12:30 o'clock. People were so busy roasting, broiling, stewing, serving, that it was no time to ask quest ions. What was this ? Where was it all happening ? Why, in the largest luncheon and dinner restaurant in the great metrop olis of New York. Indian* in Flor.da. There are to-day within the borders of Florida about 250 warriors, and, including womeu and children, 800 Indians in all, divided up into four towns or lodges, over all of whom Young Tiger Tail is the chief. He is about thirty years of age. One of thu Indian towns is in Polk County, on the west side of the Kissiuime River,near Lake Pierce. These Indians live almost entirely on the natural resources of the country,such as deer, turkey, bear, and fish; they make from the bud of the cabbage palmetto and bamboo brier root, which they reduce 10 a pulp by boiling, what may be considered a substitute for bread, and it is very nutri tious and palatable. They also have small patches of sweet potatoes, sugar cane; and corn, but do not rely on the latter produc tions. They raise no cattle, but have a good stock of hogs and ponies on the range. They dress in primitive style (flaps and gowns), and refuse to civilize, but are perfectly harmless. Notwithstand ing they live almost entirely without shelter sickness is almost unknown among them, and they live to a ripe old agt. Auother town is on Fislieatiug Creek, near Lake Okeechobee. At this place the council meet annually to make laws and punish crime, and at which meeting (in June)they have their "green-corn dance." Auother town is fouud on the opposite side of the Kissimme, at what is known as "Alpa tioka." Another is near Shackleford,ou the Everglades, west side, fifty miles below the Calo:sahatehe River. Another town on the east coast near the Miama River. Over each of these four towns at the annual or "green corn dince," a chief is elected or appointed who reigns supreme for the com ing year. The chief thus selected yearly is the man who has killed the most bears during tbe year, this being the qualifica tion necessary for the candidate. There are no people who punish more severely for either adultery cr fornication, by cut ting the ears and nose of the man or lash ing publicly the female. To this * grand council the criminals from all the towns are brought, tried, and punished. Slavery still exists in Florida, and the slaveholders are the Seminole Indians, who still hold several, and would like to purchase more. FOOD FOR THOUGHT. Favors of all kinds double when they are speedily eonferred. To be angry is to revenge the fault# of others upon ourselves. Avoid an angry man for a while—a malicious one rer ever. A judicious silence Is better than truth spoken with charity. Nature is the master of talent ( geni us is the master ol nature. Have a care of whom you talk, to whom, and what, and where. Make not thy friend too eheap to thee, nor thyself to thy friend. An idle reason lessens the weight of the good ones you gave before. What Is becoming is honorable, and what is honorable is becoming. Earnestness of purpose can spring on'y from strong convictions. There can be no true thankfulness where there is ne benevolence. You should forgive many things in others, but nothing in yourself. The good which you do may not be lost, though it may be forgotten. He that catches more than belongs to him, deserves to lose what he has. The more we help others to bear their burdens, the lighter will be our own. The trouble with many communities is. that their dead men refuse to be burled. Man believes- that to be a He which contradlots the testimony of his own ignorance. A friend cannot be known in pros perity, and an enemy cannot be hid in adversity. It is good in a fever, and much bettor in anger, to have the toague kept clean and smooth. Never send your guest who Is aocus tomed to a warm room, into a cold, damp bed to sleep. Taking a penny that does not belong to one removes the barrier between in tegrity and rascality. Patience on a monument Is all well enough for poets, but doctors plant their patients beneath. Nryer fail to offer the easiest and best seat in the room to an invalid, an elderly person or a lady. Never neglect to perform the com mission which the friend intrusted to you. You must not forget. The loud tenes in which some per- . sons appeal to reason imply that reas on is a great distance from them. The happiness of the tender heart is increased by what it can take away from the wretchedness of others. Intellectual pride is less outraged by the obscurities of faith than by the au thority with which it is clothed. Let every one sweep the drift from his own door aud not busy himself about the frost on his neighbor's tiles. Christianity is the element in mod ern civilization thit secures tt against the vicissitudes of another oivillaa tion, ' Reflection is a flower of the mind, giving out wholesome fragrance; re verie is the game flower when running to seed. It is safer to affront some people than to oblige them, for the better a man deserves the worse they will speak of him. We may dwell so exclusively on the many forms of right-doing M to shut from view the presence ef goodness itself. Right habit is like the channel,which dictates the course in which the river shall flow, and which grows deeper and deeper with each year. A man need only correct himself with the same rigor that he apprehends others, and excuse others with the same indulgence that he shews to him self. Of Trebouius, Tullins said: "I am glad he whom I must have loved from duty, whatever he had been, Is such as 1 can love from inclination." Never put much confidence In snoh as put no confidence in others. A man prone to suspect evil Is mostly looking out tor what he sees in himself. Infamy is where it is received. If thou art a mud wall, it will stick; if marble, it will rebound. If thou storm at it, it is thine; if thou contemn it, it is hie. Handsome people usually are so fan • tasticaliy pleased with themselves, that if they do not kill at first sight, as the phrase is, a second interview deprives ihem of all their power. Great vices are the proper objects of our detestation—smaller fault# of our pity; but affectation appears to be the only true source of the ridiculous. No man has oome to true greatness who has not felt in some degree that his lite belongs to his race, and that what God gives him he gives him for mankind. The very heart and root of sin is an independent and selfish spirit. We erect the idol self, and not only wish others to worship it, but we worship it ourselves. Universal love is like a glove with out fingers, which fits all hands alike, and none closely; but true affection is like a glove with fingers, which fits one hand only, and fits close to that one, It is when our budding hopes are nipped beyond recovery by some rough wind that we are most disposed to pic ture to ourselves what flowers they might have borne had they flourished. The great sorrows of life are either a curse or a blessing to us. Even the open grave may be a doorway into the heaven of a larger faith or the open way into a life of solemn despair. The intellect of man sits visibly en throned upon his forehead and in his eye, and the heart of man is written upon 'his countenance. But the soul reveals itself in the voice only, as God revealed himself to-the prophets of old in the still, small voice from the burn ing bush. Man is like an engine—it will run well and long if It is well oiled. Cont entment and cheerfulness are the oil which keeps the nerves from wearing out. Busy men and woman think that time taken from toil for sleep and re creation is time lost. It is really the cement put in to fill up the joints, to keep out the weather and preserve the building. NO. 6.