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VOL. 59.
The Old Bachelor.
"Ilovr did I come to adopt her ?"
My dour friend, that is about one of
the silliest questions I ever heard lo
come from a man of your wisdom and
common sense ! It was Fate, that's
what it was ! Personally, I had no
mote to do with it than you have this
moment. These things are all ordain
ed and marked out for us, and we can
neither avoid jior alter them. Fatality,
d you call the dcctriue ? Well, call
it what you will—there it is, and you
can't make anything else out of it !
But about little Magdalen. I was
coming down Broadway in a great hur
ry to catch an uptown stage before all
those ferry people blocked into it.when
there she sat on a curb stone, the wind
blowing her yellow hair about and her
poor little hands blue with cold, crying
as if her heart would break. I didn't
think the veiiest savage could have
helped stopping to ask her what the
matter was, and I don't call myself a
savage, if Ido happen to have my lit
tle crusty fits now and then. So says
I :
"Child, what's the matter ?"
"I'm lost 1" said she.
And come to inquire, why the poor
'lttle elf was fatherless, motherless,
friendless, in all the wide world ! Of
course, I took her home, and you ought
to have seen old Hannah, my house
keeper,stare when I walked io with the
yellow-haired baby clinging to the lit
tle finger of my left band. For she
wasn't more than eight years old, and
small at that I
"I give you a month's warning,sir I"
says Hannah. But, bless your soul,
she didn't go. Maggie took her heart
by storm, as she always hai done that
to the rest of the world, and at the
month's end you couldn't have hired
old Hannah to leave the child.
Weil, sir, she grew up as tall as a
reed, and as pretty as a posy. I seut
her to Madam Aimard's fashionable
French boarding-school, for I was not
going to have my Maggie a whit behind
any one's else girl, I can tell you. My
sister Simpkins objected. You see,
with those nine daughters of hers, sne
grudged every penny of my money that
was spent on any one else.
"You're putting silly notions in the
child's head," said she. "A girl that
will have her own liying to earn, ought
not to mingle with Madam Aimard' 9
young* ladies."
"I should like to know why ?"
says I.
"Because she is in no way their e
qual I" said Sister Simpkins.
"Fiddlesticks I" says I. "My Mag
gie is good and pretty,and if that don't
constitute equality with any girl alive,
I'll bwn up that we don't live in a re
publican country ! As for earning her
own living, why it's my business to
look after that, and no one else need
trouble their head about it I"
Mrs Simpkins pursed up her hps and
looked unutterable things, but she did
not dare to say anything more. She
knew of old that I wasn't to be disput
ed when my will was up. But I sent
the nine Miss Simpkinses nine coral
necklaces the next Christmas, and that
kept the peace for awhile.
When she came home from the
boarding-school, she was prettier than
ever—tall, as I said before, with yel
low, silky hair, great sbady-lookiDg
blue eyes, with lashes that curled up at
the ends, and cheeks %s fresh and pink
as I remember the inside of two big
shells that used to stand on my grand
father's best room mantel fifty good
years ago.
So I cast about in my mind to find
some new plan for making the old
bouse lively for my little girl. I knew
she couldn't thrive without her inno
cent gayeties, any more than a bird
could without free air and sunshine ;
so I invited compsßy, and made up lit
tle impromptu parties and frolics, and
beat my brains for something to keep
her amused. And I believe I succeed
ed too, for her -step was as light as a
feather, and you could hear her sing all
over the house, when she thought she
was alone.
And one day old Hannah came in,
dusting chairs, and prying about for
finger-marks on the paint in her odd,
near-sighted way.
"Mr. Pelham," says she, rubbing a
way at a door-knob that was as bright
before as hands could maks it, "what
would you say if we were to have a
wedding in the old house V"
"A wedding I" I dropped my pen
so that it made a big round blot on the
paper, and stared. "Why, you're not
going to be married, Hannah, after all
these y ears ?"
"Do I look like it ?" sniffed Hannah
contemptuously—and, to tell the truth,
she didn't very much. "No, indeed,
sir; I hope I know my place better
than that. It's Miss Maggie I'm
thinking of, sir."
I sat as if I had been stricken with a
paralytic shock. Maggie to be married!
MILLHEIM, PA., THURSDAY, MAY 28., 1885.
Strange that I had never thought of
that, as a natural consequence of par
ties, companies, evening concerts and
summer picnics I And somehow a des
olate chill crept uown my veins as I
thought how lonesome and dreary the
old house would seem without Mag
gie.
"What makes you think so, Han
nah V" I asked rather dolorously, and
the old woman lowered her voice mys
teriously as she answered.
"It's that Mr. Carlisle—he keeps
coming all the time, and it's my honest
belief he just worships the grouod ray
young lady walks on. He is yery hand
some, too, and folks tell me he's worth
money."
Mr. Carlisle 1 Well, old Hannah
was right. He was a fine looking fel
low, and well-to-do in tnis world's
goods ; but—who was there, after all,
worthy of my tall, golden-haired prin
cess with dewy blue eyes and lips like
scarlet coral newly plucked out of the
sea ? Why couldn't Carlisle go off and
marry one of the wise Miss Simpkinses,
whose mother was on the look-out for
husbands as an ogress whatches foi eat
able young travelers ? I began to hate
Carlisle.
"Pooh l" said I, upsetting my waste
basnet of papers over the floor with an
unwary fling of my feet. "I don't
think she cares for Carlisle."
"Just you watch her, then, and see
for yourself," said old Haunah, wisely
wagging her cap border. "I never did
set up for a prophet, Mr. Pel ham, but
them as isn't blind 'can't help seeing,
and our eyes is given to us to use."
So old Haanah went her way,leaving
me about as uncomfortable as a man
has any business to be. My Maggie to
be married 1 My pretty blossom to be
plucked just as soon as it began to shed
fragrance round my door-stone. I felt
as a monarch may whose domains are
invaded by an audacious foe. Should I
write Carlisle a note and tell him to go
about his business, or should I simply
convey to him by my manners the hint
that his presence was no longer speci
ally desirable, or—but old Hannah's
words iecurred uncomfortably to my
mind—should I first find out whether
Maggie really did care for the young
up-start ?
My head dropped on my hands—my
heart sunk somewhere below zero at
the idea ! I wondered if all fathers
felt so when gay young cavaliers came
wooing at their gates ! And, after
all, Maggie wasn't my real child, dear
ly as I loved and tenderly as I had
cherished her.
I think I hardly slept all that night.
I tossed to aud fro on my pillow, count
ing tl)9 chimes of the old clock, as one
by one it told the bours.tbinking about
Maggie and Carlisle, and wondering if
the tardy daybreak would never redden
over the hill-tops.
By that time my mind was made up.
I would repress all these selfish ideas
and only think of my gill's ultimate
happiness. If she liked Carlisle, why
Carlisle should have her.
I rose, dressed and went down to my
study. The first thing I saw was SJ
note lying on my library table. Prob
ably it had arrived late last night. I
broke seal ; it was from George
Carlisle, asking permission to address
Miss Magdalen Pelham.
Well—it was nothing more than I
had expected—in fact, it rather exped
ited matters, which ought not to run
too slowly. I refolded the epistle, and
loooked severely at myself in the oppo
site glass.
"You middle-aged old iogy," quoth
I, staring at myself with the seyerest
expression of countenance I could call
up at so short a notice, "I see through
you. You have dared to suppose
bright-eyed Magdalen could prefer you
to these gay young fellows nearer her
own age—you have even presumed to
fall a little spice in love with her your
self. It will do you good to have some
of the nonsense taken out of you. At
your time of life too 1 Did you ever
see a chestnut tree blossoming in No
yember or a grape vine loaded with blue
fruit at mid-winter ?"
So off I trudged into the garden
where Magdalen always walked in the
early morning to tell her of young Car
lisle's proposal.
She listened, looking very pretty and
preoccupied, until I had finished.
"Well ?" said she.
"Well ?" I quoth, "what do you
say ?"
"What do I say ? No, of course !"
"You mean yes, my dear," said I,
"if you'll only take time to think.-" #
"I mean no I" she flashed out.
"Oh, Mr. Pelham, how can you think
so basely of me V"
"Basely, my dear. I don't compre
hend you."
She was beginning to cry now—big,
sparkling drops like the first glittering
diamonds of a July shower.
"I don't love hiin. I never can love
him."
"But, why not, my dear ?"
A PAPER FOR THE HOME CIRCLE
. .
"Because I love somebody else," she
sobbed, growing pinker and prettier
than ever.
"Who is it, Maggie ? You'll tell me,
won't you V Why, child"—as she
shrank blushingly back—"l am old e
uough to be your father 1"
"You are not 1" she exclaimed, in
dignantly, "and you are the last person
in the world I would tell I"
"My darling, why not ?"
The enigmas these women are ! in
stead of answering me, she began to
cry ugain as if her dear little heart was
going to break.
And suddenly a great light Hashed in
upon my mind !
"Magdaleu 1 Darling ! Is it me that
you loy# ?"
And in another moment she was
laughing and crying on my breast !
The old chestnut tree was garlanded
with blossoms, even though its prime
was past—the vine of life was man
tling in blue clusters ia the late, late
harvest 1
So I had to send as civil a note as
possible to young Carlisle—and it's sur
prising how my feelings moderated to
ward him as I worte it I
And that is the way I won this peer
less rose among women to be my wife
—and I don't think she has ever regret
ted marrying the old man yet. Though
I shouldn't dare to call myself "old"
in her presence, to speak truth. Peo
ple say it's a romantic story, but I
say it is only an illustration ot the
fact that there is more romance in real
life than there is in books, if we only
knew it.
OUR DAUGHTERS.
Written for the Reading Dispatch by MART
W. NORTON.
Almost daily we see in the newspa
pers accounts of elopements ot betray
als of young girls, which Invariably
bring the name and honor of woman
into reproach, and almost make pure,
good women think there is no virtue
or honor in the rising generation of
young women. Every day we can read
of the downfall of some young woman,
or the runaway marriage of some
young girl who should hardly have been
allowed to go beyond the parental
threshold alone, much less form the ac
quaintance of men, and especially men
unknown to their paren's. Such
things seem to be becoming more fre
quent every day, and it is time that
parents make an effort to check it, and
the sooner they lealize the duty they
should by no means neglect, in the
proper training and education of their
daugnterß, the soonei will such things
be unknown. In the first place, we
should try to make our homes such
that our daubgters will reluctantly
leave them, even after we have given
our consent, and never without. We
should condemn any action whereby
the name of woman is degraded in the
presence of our daughters, and implant
into their minds a hatred for anything
of an immoitil nature. We take great
pains in securing them good school ed
ucations, so the world may think them
accomplished, and yet we leave them
go on to learn through a sad experience
that which might have been averted
had parents exercised a proper care and
influence over them. Do we not fre
quently allow our daughters to go to
places where they see sights and hear
language which should make any wo
man blush t And worst of all, we
allow then to go upon the streets alone,
and comfort ourselves with the belief
that will molest them or that they will
do anything wrong because they are
our daughters. True, a lady may ap
pear upon the streets unprotected, but
when she is often observed promena
ding, especially after dark and alone,
there are always those who are quick
to notice it and form opinions which
are anything but favorable to her char
acter, and they at once lay traps and
schemes for her moral destruction. Is
it not a shame that young men and
boys are allowed to loaf around street
corners and various other places, who
make a practice of insulting and mak
ing indecent remarks about every
young lady who must pass alone ? Can
parents allow their daughters to go a
bout at night, wheu they know that
such is the case, and never feel any
concern about them, or feel that they
should warn them of such danger ?
Mothers, let us try to make home hap
py and pleasant for our daughters, so
they will have no desire to go upon the
streets, aud under our care guard zeal
ously the name and honqr of those near
and dear to us. Tbey should know
that there are those who are constantly
watching for an opportunity to lead the
innocent and unsuspecting awav from
the paths of virtue and honor, and pa
rents should especially impress upon
the minds of their daughters that a
woman's honor when once gone is goue
foreyer. Let us explain to them the
ways of the wicked w u o would rob
them of that honor which woman holds
most dear and sacred, and not rest sat-
tied with the thought that "my daugh*
ter will not fall." You dare not think
that your daughter cannot be led away
from the right, or that she is invuluer*
able, for how many daughters, with
just as good and pure mothers as you,
have fallen victims to the wicked and
lustful designs of men. Mothers, we
have it in our power to arrest this
growing evil—that which is robbing us
of our pure and unsuspecting women.
Let us make up our minds to have
nothing whatever to do with any one
who even speaks disrespectful of wo
mau, and let us ostraciso him who
would attempt her ruin. Let us teach
our daughters thus, and also teach our
sons to properly respect and honor wo
man, and we shall have the satisfac
tion of seeing a better and purer com
munity and an honorable and noble
class of women.
Bread Oast Upon the Water.
About a month ago an old New
Yorker dropped his luggage before the
clerk's desk in an Old Point Comfort
hotel and dashed off his autograph in
a free and easy hand, 'John McKess
on, New York city. Day after day
passed and the visitor seemed to be
enjoying Virginia with a great deal of
zest When he finally made up his
mind to move homeward he tripped
once more to the clerk's desk, this
time to ask for his bill. 'McKesson 1
McKesson!' ejaculated the clerk,
'there's no bill here for any Mr. Mc-
Kesson.' 'No bill ? why, what are
you talking about Do you know
how long I've been here, Mr. Clerk ?'
'Yes, sir, I do know, but I have or
ders from headquarters to take none of
your money—not a cent.' Now comes
on the scene a genial hotel proprietor
to beam upon the astonished old
Knickerbocker and grasp him by the
hand after an enthusiastic fashion.
'You're the same old John McKesson
I knew thirty years ago,' ejaculated
the hotel man. 'Don't remember me
eh? Well,let me recall a little incident
which happened when I was strug
gling along in the world years and
years back. You belonged to one of
the leading wholesale drug firms in
Maiden Lane, and I was the driver of
an express wagon. One day I had to
unload some packages going from
your store to some Western town.
My horses were scared just as I was
handling the goods and one package
was dumped to the ground and brok
en. At headquarters I was told that
I'd have to make good the loss, a lit
tle matter of S2O or so, which meant
a great deal to me. With a sore heart
I went down to your store the next
day to atk what was the lowest figure
at which I could settle, and you,with
out a moment's hesitation, told me
that I need not pay one cent.that you
could stand the loss better than I
could, and that must be the end of it.
But it isn't the end of it, all the same,
for lam making a round SIOO a day
down here now, though if I wasn't
making a cent I'm dashed if I'd let
you pay for anything under my roof,
if you staid here the whole year
through.'
Couldn't Make it Out.
The proprietor of a tannery having
erected a building on the main street
for the sale of his leather, the purchase
of hides, etc.. began to consider what
kind of a sign would be most attrac
tive. At last what he thought a happy
idea struck him. He bored an augur
hole through the door-post and stuck a
calf's tail into it, with the bushy end
flaunting out. After a while he no
ticed a grave-looking person standing
near the door, with spectacles on, gaz
ing intently at the sign. So long did
he gaze that finally the tanner stepped
out and addressed the individual :
"Good morniDg I"
"Morning," replied the man, with
out moying his eyes from the sign.
"You want to buy leather ?"
"No."
"Want to sell hides ?"—"No."
"Are you a farmer ?"—"No"
"Are sou a merchant ?"—"No."
"Lawyer "No."
"Doctor ?"—"No."
"Minister ?"—"No."
"What in the deuce are yon V'—
"I'm a philosopher. I'vebeeu stand
ing here hair an hour trying to decide
how that calf got through that augur
hole, and for the life of me, I can't
make it out 1"
—ln Henry & Johnson's Arnica and
Oil Liniment is combined the curative
properties of the different oils, with the
healing qualities of Arnica. Good for
man and animal. Every bottle guaran
teed.
Terms, SI.OO per Year, in Advance.
THREE BLACK CROWS.
The Old Story's Appearance
CJnder a New Guise.
The Tall White-Haired Man With
Earnest Upturned Face—The
Swelling 1 Orowd and the
Materialization of a
Terrible Calamity.
[Fuck.]
A tall man, with long white hair,
which half hid his coat-collar, stood in
front of one of the large buildings on
lower Broadway at noon the other day.
llis face was upturned, and he appear
ed to be gazing earnestly at the roof of
the structure. In a few minutes be
was joined by another man, and in a
few minutes more another, an then an
other, until a score of men were gather
ed together on the pavement, looking
at the upper stories of the tall struct
ure. As the crowd began to swell,busy
brokers stopped to look,messenger boys
flocked to the spot from all directions,
merchants, clerks, peddlers and idlers
stopped in their journey and gazed at
the building as if they expected some
frightful catastrophe to occur. The
throng soon grew too large for the pave
meut, and the gutter and a part of the
street were speedily occupied by sever
al hundred elbowing, jostliug,impatient
and curious sight-seers.
4 1 wonder if the wall's a-going to
fall ?' observed a speculative spectator
on the outskirts of the throng.
4 They say the wall is going to fall,'
repeated the maD next to him.
'Look out, the building is'going to
tumble I' shouted the next.
4 Don't crowd so 1' yelled a man in
the center, 4 the wall is going to fall.'
4 Look out! look out I' shrieked a doz
en others, and the men pressed back
ward on each other's toes until there
was space euough on the pavement to
let a regiment march through.
4 1 wonder whether it's on lire,' ob
served another spectator.
•It's on fire !' shouted another.
'See the smoke !' yelled a third.
4 Fire ! fire I' howled a score of other
voices, and the crowd surged back to
the pavement as flies gather on a lump
of sugar in summer time.
4 I hope there are no women or chil
dren in the building,' remarked a char
itably inclined citizen.
4 There are women and children iu the
building getting burned up!' shouted
another.
4 Three women getting burned up I'
yelled another.
4 Open the window and rescue them,'
piped a little man who was obserying
the building from under a tall man's
coat-tails.
'Bring a ladder!' yel'ed a sensible
man.
'Ladder I ladder! fetch a ladder,'
howled a dozen others, and a number of
boys were dispatched in various direc
tions for these useful articles.
'Why doseu't some one turn on the
fire-alarm ?' suggested another man.
'Turn on the alarm 1' took up the
crowd. 'Call the fire department!' and
several men started simultaneously for
the fire-alarm house.
'Fifty dollars to the mau who saves
their lives I' yelled a tall man with a
western air and a wide primed hat.
'Break open the doors and go up
stairs !' howled an enthusiastic man,as
he edged away from the crowd in the
opposite direction from the building.
'have their lives 1' yelled another, as
he made a break through the crowd for
the stone steps, followed by a half-hun
dred other men.
'Call the police !' said another.man.
'Police I police ! police 1 shouted the
crowd.
'Some one will go through the build
ing and rob the offices !' said another
one on the outskirts.
'Robbers 1 Robbers ! Police I Police 1
Fire I Fire ! Save the women ! Bring
a ladder ! Burst in the front door I'
howled the crowd.
'What's der row ?' growled a police
man on the opposite corner, as he ob
served the crowd.
•Some one's getting killed,' replied
an imaginatiye but innacurate long
rage spectator.
'l'll rap for help,' said the guardian
of the peace, graciously.
'What's der matter ?' cried another
patrolman, as he came panting around
the corner.
'Terrible fight over there,' replied the
first; 'two men being murdered.'
More raps. More policemen.
Fire-engines heard coming in thejdis
tance.
'Let's clear the crowd,' said a police
man.
'Fire I Murder !' Police!' shouted the
crowd.
'Clear the way,' howled the officers.
'Whack, thump,bang I' remarked the
policemen's clubs as the sturdy officers
reached the edge of the crowd.
'Here comes the police! Clear the
way ! Quit hitting me ! Ouch ! Stop
crowding me !' shouted the spectators,
as they made way for the policemen
and dodged the fast gathering engines.
'What's the matter V cried an officer,
as he rushed into the building.
'Nothing,' replied the janitor. 'What
is the row in the street ?'
no. 21.
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' What's the row out here ?' inquired
another officer of one of the spectators
in the crowd.
'Notliing is the matter here,' replied
that individual. 'lt's in the building.'
'Where's the firo ?' shouted the fiie
marshal.
'No fire here,' said the policeman.
'What's the ;figbt about V' inquired
the police sergeant, who appeared on
the scene at the head of the reserve
force.
'No fig£t,' replied the officer.
1 Where's the dead man ?' asked the
ambulance-driver, as he stopped his
panting horses in front of the building.
'No dead mau here,' said the officer.
'Well,' ejaculated the sergeant.
•Well!' shouted the policeman, fire
marshal, janitor and spectators.
In the thick of the crowd stood the
man with the white hair, his eyes still
fixed immovably on the building.
'say, old roan !' said the sergeant, as
he grasped his arm, 'what in thunder
are you looking at V
The old man 'slowly turned around, A
his hat outstretched in his hand,
playing on his breast a Jarge placard
which read :
l'lease Help the Blind.
Three hours later the old man faced
the bar of justice in the tombs.
'Charge ?' observed the court.
'Begging on the street, blockading
the pavement, creating a disturbance,'
replied the police sergeant.
'Six mouths,' replied the court. 'Call
the next case.'
Business is Business.
Young Billkins was utterly devoted
to business,but somehow found time to
fall in love and ask the girl to marry
him. The time was set, and he called
on the old gentleman to get his consent.
He had a long talk, and that evening
came up to see the girl.
'Well,' she said, lu considerable anx
iety, 'Whatdid pa say ?'
'He said that wheat was going up,
and there was a fine chance for a man
to make a handsome little dot.'
'Pshaw ! Didn't he say anything
else V
'Oh, yes, we talked about a dozen
ventures that mlffe be made, with an
excellent chauce of coming out ahead
every time.'
'Bother the business 1 What did he
say when you asked him if you could
have me V
'Wha— wha—what ?' he stammered.
'Why, what did he say about me V
•By George, Mary, I forgot all about
it* I'll sro the first thing in the morn
ing and see him about it.'— Merchant
Traveler.
Horse Stables.
The condition and health of a horse
depends very much upon the kind of
stable it is kept iu. There are horses
which suffer from disease of the eyes,
from coughs, from scratches and other
skin diseases, all of which are produced
by the pungent foil air -in the stables.
Farmers and others who have horses,
will take pains to keep their carriages
and harness protected from the strong
ammoniatal air of the stables least the
leather may be rotted or the yarnish
dulled and spotted ; and at the same
time they will wonder why their horses
cough, or have weak eyes or moon
blindness, or suffer from other diaeae.es,
which, if they would only think for a
few minutes, they would readily per
ceive are due to the foul air the animals
are compelled to breath every night in
the year while confined in close, badly
ventilated stables. The remedy is very
easy. The stable should bo kept clean;
this will prevent the greater part of the
mischief; and it shouid be well venti
lated. The floor should be properly
drained, so that the liquid will not re
main on it, to be absorbed, and decom
pose, and produce the, pungent vapors
of amonia,which are so injurious to the
eyes, nostrils, throat and lungs, an<T
this liquid waste should be carried a
way to some place where it can be ab
sorbed and utilized. The floor should
be washed off at least twice a week
with plenty of water and then liber"
ally sprinkled with finely-ground gyp
sum [plaster] which will combine with
the ammonia, and fix it. A solution of
copperas [sulphate of iron] will have
the same result. Lastly,the floor should
be supplied with absorbent litter,which
should be removed when it is soiled.
Ventilation should be provided in such
away as to ayoid cold drafts. Small
openings, which may be easily closed
with a slide, may be made in the outer
wall near the floor, and similar ones
near the ceiling, or in the roof, through
which the foil air can escape. Pure
air is of the utmost importance to the
well-being of horses. As an instance
of it may be mentioned the fact that in
the English cavalry stables a complete
system of ventilation reduced the aver
age loss of horses from the deadly dis
ease, glanders, from one hundred and
thirty-two per thousand,yearly, to nine
in the thousand ; aud when a similar
improvement was made in the French
army stables, the percentage of death
was reduced in a similar ratio, with a
still larger decrease of milder ailments.
American Agriculturist for June.