PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY IN MUSSER'S BUITJDING. Ovnitr of Slain and Penn Bt., at SI.OO PER ANNUM; IN ADVANCE; Or 91-tt U not paid in adranoe. Acceptable Correspondence Solicited, fSfAMrem nil letters to " MTLLHBIM JOURNAL." Thanksgiving. Come one, oomeall! Come home, come home! From deeert sands, and ocean loam, Beneath the honored home roof-tree, Join hands and hearts, and jou shall see Bweet thoughts, pure love, and honest living Flow from the keeper of Thanksgiving. Tis then the dead become most doar; Tin then tho'living bring most cheer; lis then the host within us seems Aspiring toward our youthful dreams, And lifo looks teally worth the living, In the old homestead at Thanksgiving. Thanks, grim old Puritans, to you, Who "builded batter than ye knew!" True, ye were hard and stern, 'tis said Intolerant and higotod, But one sweet gift is oi your giving— Thanks, sad old pilgrims, for Thanksgiving! Chloe .Maxwell. ■ V -3 Ursula's Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving Eve, and Ursula Hall was coming home from her daily task of toil at the district school. The little mountain stream was all choked with dead leaves; the gourd shell lay broken in pieces among the yellowing ferns; and as Ursula stopped to gather up a scarlet vine-leaf which still retained its vivid glow, the setting sun burst from a bank of sullen clouds and seemed to encircle the whole world with a belt of amber light, while a sud den gust of frost-scented, autumnal wind swept the leaf from her hand and sent it eddying fantastically down the dark wood-path. Ursula sighed. "It is like an omen of evil," said she. "I was thirsty, and the spring is full of leaves and the shell broken; I wanted the bright leaf, and the wind has blown it away. And I don't know how I am ever to tell grandfather and grandmother about the district school." Then, quickening her footsteps, she hurried down the road, never pausing until she reached an old, steep-roofed house, painted a dull red. and half hid den by the giant boughs of huge chest nut trees. There had been an old toll-gate there once, but it had long been disused, and nothing remained of it but a sort of picturesque arch over the roadway, all twined with wild vines. And Grandfather Hall was carrying an armful of wood into the kitchen door as Ursula came up. Grandmother Hall was knitting by the fire, in her cushioned rocker. It was five years since Grandmother Hall had put her feet to the iloor, yet she was indomitably cheerful through it all If there was a bright side to anything, Grandmother Hall always found it out; if not, she set herself to work to imagine one. "Ah, here you are, Ursuly!" said the old man, mournfully. " And high time you come. The old turkey-hen is lost, and the apple sass is scorched, and Lewis Crawford hain't called for them eggs, and if they ain't sold we shan't have a penny to put in the contribution plate to-morrow, after the Thanksgiv ing services. " Laws sakes, father," said Mrs. Hall, " what's the use of rainin' evil news on Ursula like that? Don't you see she looks pale and tired? The turkev-hen is safe in the branches of the seckel pear-tree; I saw her just now. And as for the apple-sass, I don't dislike a little scorch myself; it gives flovor. And I'm sartin sure Lewis Crawford'll come along yet. It ain't late, you know." And, leaning over until you would have been sure she must lose her bal ance, Grandmother Hall opened tho oven-door to see how the johnny-cakes were getting on. For corn-meal was cheap, and the old lady had a fashion of reproducing it in every possible style. " Granny," said Ursula, with a quiv ering lip, " I'd better tell you at once Squire Dean's daughter is to have the district school next quarter, They don't need my services any longer, they say. Oh, granny, granny ! what is to become of us ?" Old Mr. Hall sat down with a groan. " I knowed there was some ill luck coming," said he. "There was a rab bit ran across the orchard path when I went to pick up apples right square across the path!" " Father, don't," said the old lady, swallowing some sort of a lump in her throat. " That's clear superstition. Don't fret, Ursuly. We shall get along somehow, never fear." " Oh, yes," sighed Grandfather Hall, satirically, "we shall get along, even if we have to burn up the side of the house to keep us warm, and gnawooru r finger-ends for food. Things is coming to a crisis now, mother. Squire Dean was over to see me about the place to day. It's to be sold at auction Mon day, two weeks and I'd like to know what is to become of us then. Ah, it was a black day when I lent that money to Stephen Gregson, and bur dened the old house with debt. I might have known he was a scamp, or he wouldn't have wanted to go away DEINIINTGER & BUMLLLER, Editors and Proprietors?. VOL. LVII. and leave the spot where he was born." Ursula winced at this. She knew perfectly well that if it had not been for her persuasions, Grandfather Hall never would have mortgaged his house and farm. Six per cent seemed a golden invest, ment; and besides besides. Ursula had likod Stephen Gregson, with his bright, blue eyes, his clear voice, and his contagiously sanguine tempera ment. "When I've made my fortune, Ur sula," he had said, gaily, "I'll come back and marry you." " Don't talk nonsense. Stephen," she had said, with a laugh. But it had not seemed like nonsense in the secret depths of her heart. She had pondered many and many a time over his emphatic words, but they had failed to come true. Probably Stephen Gregson hadn't made tho expected fortune. Certain it was that ho had not come home to marry her. And Ursula was begin ning to coincide with Grandfather Hall's misanthropic theory that all the world was askew. Grandmother Hall was silent. Sho was glad now that she had never told her husband and Ursula about the twenty-live dollars that she had lent cousin Abby Miller the hoarded storo of silver in the stocking-leg, which sho had parted with to help tho friendless old maid to open a little millinery in the citv. "I'm afraid it's money thrown away," thought Grandmother Hall. "1 did s'pose Abby would at least have writ ten word about it. But there! what is the use of crying about spilled milk? I dare say Abby feels sis bad about it as 1 do, poor, solitary croetur! Anyway, Ursuly," she said, breaking the oppres sive silence, " there's one thing we have to be thankful for—the pumpkins ripened splendidly in the corn-stubble* and 1 guess you'd better slice up one to-night for the pies; and father must cut the hen-turkey's head off bright and early. It may be our last Thanks giving in the old place, and we'll keep it as it ought to be kept. Come, the tea is drawn—we'll all feel better for a good, hut cup." "Tain't no use,"said old Mr, Hall, shaking his head. "Nothing ain't no use.'' Ursula, too, was discouraged. Grand mother Hall saw it in her face, even though she spoke no word. They had scarcely seated themselves at the little round cherry-table, when a knock came to the door. " It's the sheriff to serve the mort gage paper," said old Mr. Hall, whose ideas of the. law were rather vague. " It's Lewis Crawford after the eggs," said Mrs. Hall, more hopefully. But it was neither one nor the other It was a little old woman in a black silk hat, a respectablo cloth cloak and a brown-stuff dress—Miss Abby Miller herself. "Good evening, Cousin nail!" said she. " I've come to spend Thanksgiv ing with you." "And you're kindly welcome;"chirped the old lady. " Ursuly, set a chair for Abby, and take her things." "But first," said Miss Abby, "I must pay my debts. Here's the twenty five dollars I borrowed of you, with ten dollars for interest; and I know, Cousin Ilall, you'll bo pleased to know that I've prospered and made money in the millinery business, that I never could have got into if it hadn't been for your good nature and generosity. And here," producing a willow basket nearly as large as herself, "is the finest turkey in Fulton Market, and three quarts of cranberries, and a doz en of oranges, and a pot of guava jelly; my contribution *o tomorrow's house keeping. Ami if it was forty times as much, it wouldn't be half what I owe you, Cousin Ilall!" And Miss Abby Miller, failing in an attempt to laugh, began to cry, and ended up by hugging old Mrs Hall with all her might. Tea "was hardly over before a new visitor arrived on the scene—Doctor Purdy, the chairman of the local board of trustees. " What's this about Squire Dean's daughter ousting you from your place, Miss Hall?" he asked. "I have been told—" began Uusula. "No matter what you have been told," said the doctor. "I've seen Mr. McAllister, and he and I both agreed that you are not to be disturbed. You suit us exactly, and we intend that you shall retain the position, if there were a dozen Miss Deans to be provided for. You'll remain, eh?" "Gladly, if you wish it," said Ursula visibly brightening up. "And if Dean don't like it, he can lump it," added Doctor Purdy, inde pendently. He had not been gone half an hour when the knocker—they never had ar rived at the dignity of a door~be!l at Grandfather Hall's sounded again. MILLIIKI.M, PA., THURSDAY, NOVICMREU 15, ls;{ " Why," crlrd tho old lady, who sat where sho could see the door, "it's—it's Stephen Gregson!" "Of course its Stephen Giegsnn,' said a deep, masculine voice. "And lie's travelled night and day to he in time to spend his Thanksgiving day with the best friends ho has in the world. And 1 should have been hero earlier," cordially wringing tho hands of all the group as ho spoke, "if I hadn't stopped at Squire Dean's to clap a stopper on that confounded mortgu;; business lie's so sharp after." "Ain't the place to ho foreclosed, then?" said Grandfather Hall, in a half-comprehending manner. "Foreclosed!" shouted Stephen Greg son. "Not if 1 know it And the thing never would have been thought of if the lawyers 1 wrote to in New York hadn't been scamps and cleared out with the money 1 sent 'ein six months ago to pay up the mortgage. However, hero I am in time at last, with the amount of the debt I owe you, safely lodged in tho Wickham Bank, and enough besides to settle up all costs and charges. Why, how well you all look! And Miss Abby Miller has actually grown young, and Ursula's cheeks are as pink as crape-myrtle. Yes, yes, Ursula, our old dreams have come true. I've made my fortune, and I've come back to marry you." Ah, inconsiderate lover that ho was thus to blurt out his courtship before the old people and Miss Miller. But it never was Stephen Gregson's way to be secretive; and they all seemed to be as much interested about it as Ursula herself. But they had the discretion not to look toward that particular part of tho kitchen where the big lish-geraniiini grew in a paint ed tub, when Stephen and Ursula had gone there to look at the new scarlet buds, just opening out. "It seems like a dream!" said Ursula, ecstatically, as she and Stephen togeth. or stood at the window, watching the moon wade through the masses o* struggling cloud. "Grandfather and grandmother provided for; the dear old home all our own; you back here, faithful and unchanged, and our wed ding to be in February. Oh, how can ever bo thankful enough?" While Grandfather Hall was saying the same thing by the fireside. "Wo shall keep Thanksgiving to morrow, with good reason, eh, moth er?" he uttered. And old Mrs. Hall answered, fer vently: "I shall keep Thanksgiving all my life!" Nautical Eloquence. A speaker who attempts to use nau tical metaphors should bo thoroughly familiar with the sea and the working of a ship, or he will strand his speech. A clergyman was once supplying a pulpit by the seaside. Thinking to impress the truth more distinctly upon the congregation, many of whom were seamen, he drew the figure of a ship trying to enter a harbor against a higV wind. Unfortunately for the success of his metaphor, he knew littlo of seaman ship. After putting the ship into sev eral singular positions, he cried out in a tone intended to be emphatic: "What shall we do next?" "The Lord only knows," exclaimed a disgusted old tar, "unless you let her drift stern foremost.'*" The prince or sailor-preachers, Father Taylor, w ins once silenced by a compliment to iiis eloquence. He had depicted the impenitent sinner under the figure of a storm-tossed ship, with her sails split, and driven by the gale toward the rock-bound coast of Cape Ann. "O, how," he exclaimed, in tones of despair, "shall this sin-tossed sinner be saved?" Instantly an old salt in the gallery, who bad listened with open mouth and straining eyes to the preacher, jumped to his feet, and in a voice that would have sounded above a hurricane, shout ed: "Let him put his helm hard down, and bear away for Squam."— Central Christian Advocate. Superstitious Mormon Women. A ghastly burial ceremony that is practised by the Mormons rivets the hold polygamy has on the superstition of these creatures. Every wife that is buried has a black cloth laid on her face, and the Mormon women are taught to believe that on the resurrec tion day, when the righteous are called into the joys of their.Lord, no hand but that of a husband can remove the cloth, and that unless the cloth is lift ed by his hand she must remain in outer darkness forever. A woman who believes that—and the Mormon women believe it- can't help behaving herself, no matter how many wives hei husband takes. She has to keep on the right side of the only man who can take off that cloth.— Chicago Tribune, A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE. SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS. Bv careful measurements, Trof D. P. ivnltallow has determined the root fciul the leaf areas of the indian corn plant to be approximately equal. Tho last observations indicate that we are distant from tho eun about 92,700,000 miles. These are figures obtained as near as may be from the observations of the last Venus tran sits. Prof. F. Farsky has experimented with sulphuric acid as one of ita sodium compounds for manuring clayey soil. Both wore without action upon moist soils, and caused a reduc tion of the yield of a dry soil. Were a man weighing 150 pounds endowed with .the strength of a beetle, some tiino ago exhibited by l)r. Thebold at a scientific meeting, be should be able to move 198,000 pounds' or nearly 100 tons. The insect weighed two grains, and moved 2,640 grains. Tince the construction of railways in Italy malarial disease has become more prevalent and more severe than before. It is supposed that this effect is due to the influence exerted by the numerous earth cuttings necessary foi the laying of tracks, and to the greatei use of stagnant water. The introduction of electricity as a substitute for lamps and randies or. board ship is making rapid progress There is one source of safety in this to the ship and the pa singers. All lights are put out at 11 o'clock. Aftei this time people may talk in the dark, but there is no possibility of reek less use of lights and lamps. The hen has in her ovaries, in round numbers, more than 6tH4 genus, which develop gradually and are successively laid. Of these 6('o the hen will la) twenty in her first year, 135 in hoi second and 114 in her third. In each one of the following four years tin number of eggs will be diminished b) twenty, and in her ninth year she will lay at most ten eggs. In order to oh tain from them sullieient product tt cover the expense of alimentation they should not be allowed to live ovoi four years. A Wound Front a Stng's Horn. Throughout the West Highlands, ti wound from a stag's horn is believed to be very dangerous. It is diflicult tt cure, and often causes extreme debility and bad health. Gamekeepers, forest ers, and their assistants dread it ex tremely, and say that a dog which re ceives such a wound usually dies from gangrene or mortification of the sore, however slight it may seem at first If he recovers, tho result is almost equally unsatisfactory; the dog become! paralytic in the wounded limb oi epileptic; or if ho has been a wise and intelligent creature, he now becomes perfectly stupid. Tho author of "Nether Loehaber" was personally ac quainted with a line-looking young man, an assistant forester, who, in helping to take a dead stag oIT a hill pony's back, was accidentally wounded in the leg by one of the tines. He did not think much of the wound at the time. It was an ugly, ragged gash, but not deep, and he had more than once had much more serious wounds which had healed at once easily "by the first intention," as the doctors say. This wound from the dead stag's horn would not, however, heal; none of the salves or ointments or healing medica ments of the glen had the least effect upon it. Jt always became the longer the worse, and when Mr. Stewart saw tho young man ho was on his way to Glasgow to see if the skill of the doctors there could counteract the dire effect of tho stag's horn.— Chambers' Journal. Listen, Boys ! "Wordsworth says, "The Boy is Father of the Man;" and the Cleveland, (< >hio) Farmer offers this good advice to aspiring boys: Tho highest attainment for yon, my boy! is to bo a man. This world is full of counterfeits. But it is a grand filing to stand upright in defence of truth and principle. When persecu tions come, some hide their faces until the storm passes by; others can be bought for a iness of pottage. From such an one, turn away. But stand by a friend; be a man; do not run away when danger threatens to overwhelm him or yourself. Think for yourself. Read good books and read men's faces. The eye is the window to the soul; use your eyes and hold your tongue. If opposition comes meet it manfully. If success crowns your efforts bear it quiet ly. Do your own thinking and keep your own secrets, worship no man for his wealth nor his lineage. Fine feathers don't always cover fine birds. Be sober, be honest, be just in all your dealings with the world; be true. They will sell you for money or popularity; don't trust them. Wear but one face and let that be an honest one. THANKSGIVING DAY. ita Origin, lllatory, and Nome or lta Observance*. The Muyazine of American History gives us the history of Thanksgiving day and its origin. From the papers we learn that the earliest thanksgiv ing service was held by the Church of England men. The l'opham colonists, who, August 9, 1607 ( 0.8.) landed upon Monhegan, near the Kennebec, and under the shadow of a high cross, listened to a sermon by Chaplain Sey mour, "giving good thanks for our happy meetings and safe arrival in the country." Next we pass to Plymouth, where in 1621, the autumn after the arrival, a notable thanksgiving was held. The brief accounts present a joyous picture. As we learn from Winslow, the har vest being gathered, the governor "sent four men out fowling, that so we might, after a special manner, re joice together," and tho traditional turkey was added to the abundant venison. The people gave themselves up to recreation, and the great eliicf Massasoit was feasted for three days with his ninety swarthy retainers. l'ossibly on this first Plymouth thanksgiving, there was more carous ing than we suppose, while there is not the slightest indication of any re ligious oltservance. Massasoit and his braves, no doubt, enjoyed it all greatly, as the thanksgiving idea was enter tained by the Indians before their con tact with the whites, and in their cele brations there was much excess. How utuch "comfortable warm water" the grate and reverend elders themselves consumed during those three days of jollity, Bradford does not say. In 1622 there in no mention of thanksgiving, but in 1623 a day was kejt, not, however, in tho autumn as a harvest festival, but in July, upon the arrival of some provisions. After this nothing more is lttard of thanks giving at Plymouth for nearly half a century. So far as the colonial rec ords go, they indicate that the day did not find a revival until 1668, when there was some kind of a thanksgiv ing. Again, June 27, 1689, there was a thanksgiving for the accession of William and Marv. In 1690 an au tuuial thanksgiving was held, and tho next year Plymouth colony was merg ed in Massachusetts, and so passes out of the story. If any festival can be said to have been established, it was established in imitation of the cus toms across tho sea. Distinct religious societies, however, may have kept oc casional thanksgivings, as the people at Barnstable observed thanksgiving on December 22, 1636, and Decem ber 11, 1639. In the Massachusetts colony the first thanksgiving was held at Boston, July 8, 1630, it being a special occa sion, having no reference to harvests. Again, in February, 1631, there was a thanksgiving, as already noticed. In the October following a thanksgiving was held for the safe arrival of "Mrs. Winthrop and her children." In these appointments we do not find the thanksgiving that we know to-day, nor do we detect any fell design against Christmas. In 1632, on June 5, thero was a thanksgiving for the victories in the Palatinate, and in Oc tober another for the harvest. In 1637 there wits a thanksgiving for victory over the Pequots, and in 1633 for the arrival of ships and for tho harvest. Tho thanksgiving days front 1634 to 1684, numbered about twenty-one, or less than one in every two years. The celebration of 1676 had special reference to the victory over King Philip. Front this period until the revolution, a thanksgiving of some kind occurred nearly every other year, and even twice in the same year, ;is in 1742. Some of these days wero ap pointed by tho royal governors, while again they wero ordered by the King or Queen or by tho home board of trade. After the close of the revolution a tendency to make Thanksgiving day a regular institution in New York, was at once apparent, and Gov. John Jay, in 1795, issued a proclamation for tho 11th of November. The act, however, was seized upon by politicians, who maintained that he was seeking to Hat ter religious prejudices. At an early period, also, the Mayors of New York were accustomed to ap point a day of thanksgiving, in accord ance with the recommendations of the council, and that of December 16, 1799, appears to have been the first so ordered. Yet the observance of the day until Gov. Clinton's time was more or less broken. Tho festival was kept, however, by Episcopalians, according to the provisions of the prayer-book, other religious bodies at the same time following their own preferences. Clinton's course, like Jay's, excited criticism. At the east end of Long Island there was no little murmuring because the day did not coincide with the local custom. It ap- Terms, $1 00 Per Year in Advance. peara that the people of East and Southampton observed thanksgiving on the Thursday after the cattle were driven home from the common pas tures at Montauk Point, the day of the return of tho cattle being fixed annu ally, with due solemnity, at the town meeting. Hence there was a collision, and the herdsmen were divided, striv ing as the herdsmen of Abram's cattle strove with those of Lot. Hut this was no case of an immovable body op posed to an irresistible force, and therefore the opponents of Clinton gave away, though not without many expostulations. Here was the begin ning of tho movement which hid to the first Presidential proclamation nation alizing Thanksgiving day. Children's ((times and Frolics. A quiet blind man'sbufi" game which may he played in the house is known by the euphonious name of "Still pond no moving." One child is blindfolded and stands in tho middle of the room, counting a hundred by lives, then calls out "Still pond no moving." The others hide in some part of the room, and the one who is "it" gropes about until lie catches some one, whom he must name. If any one moves, then he is blindfolded and has to he "it." A lady in Brooklyn, who has four little girls and three small boys, lias a game lor them called "Housekeeping." Every morning they clean up their nursery. Two of them have little brooms and they do the sweeping, while a little tot of three years in a pink cap and apron takes up the dust in a tiny dust-pan. The hovs move the furniture about and then they all dust. They also dust tho two parlors every morning, and seldom break any thing. This is go