YE ML RPC mci Bellefonte, Pa., Jan. 20, 1893. The Way of the World. There sat a crow on a lofty tree Watching the world go by; He saw a throng that swept along With laughter {oud aud high. “In and out through the motley rout” Pale ghosts stole on unseen, Their hearts were longing for one sweet word Of the love that once had been; But never a lip there spoke their names, Never a tear was shed : ? The crow looked down from his lofty tree— “Tis the way of the world,” he said. A singer stood in the market place, Singing a tender lay, But nc one heeded his sorrowful face, No one had time to stay. He turned away ; he sang no more ; How could he sing in vain? And then the world came to his door, Bidding him sing again ; But he reckoned not whether they came or went, He in his garret dead : The crow looked down from his lofty tree— “Tis the way of the world,” he said. There sat a Queen by a cottage bed, Spake to the widow there: Did she not know the same hard blow The peasant had had to bear ? And she kissed that humble peasant’s brow, And then she bent her knee: “God of the widow help her now, As thou helped me.” “Now God be thanked,” said the old, old crow, As he sped from his lofty bough : | “The times are ill, but there's much good -still In 'the ways of the world, I trow.’ ————————— AFTER MANY YEARS. “Jane Eliza,” said Jeremiah to me a-going home from the horticultural show, where, though I say it that shouldn’t, our Baldwins and our Gold. en Majesty punkins ehowed out super- ior to all others and fetched a prize— “Jane Eliza, it is time you spoke up and told the facts in the cace, Misrep- resentation should not be permitted by perfessers.” ‘Jeremiah, my dear,” says I, “your words express the thoughts that air in my mind. I'll up and do it.” We warns a-speaking of the Bald wins nor the Golden Majesties, as youn may suppose—it was the case between Tobias Starch and Rosy Wood that was in our minds. How it may be in New York I do nat pertend to know. I'should suppose folkses’ minds was ‘too well occupied in them haunts of vice and terror with savin’ themselves from bein’ run over or electroated to death by busted light wires, cr bein smashed by new houses comin’ down onto ‘em as they walked onconsecious by—which is, accordin to the papers, the re'lar thing there—on account of builders trying to-save mortar, or ‘bein pickpocketed or sandbagged in the streets, or murdered by burglars into their beds, to care enough about -sean- dal to salt it up tweaty vears and then fetch it out again with "alterations. I hope they don’t do it any way, but they doin villages like Soapstone, where every thing goes on regular and even for the most part, and the majority lives till eighty and dies because they air tired of hevin te get up and put on their shoes and stockings only to take ‘em oft again at nine o'clock and lay down, “Twenty years ago it happened.” says I te Jeremiah. “Itwarn’t sensi- ble of Rosy, but she was a gal then, and it was New Year's time.” Now that again may not be under- standable by city folkses, but in Soap- -stone New Yeai’s day is the day for -doin all sorts of queer things ; playing all sorts of tricks—a kind of April Fool's Day comin on the first of Jan uary. And anybody that is tricked at that time is bound. to be forgiving, and it didn’t seem to meto be fair for old Mrs. Perket and Marie Beckworth and Miss Maberly, all of em to speak to strangers ot Rosy Wood as “the per- son that proposed toithe Rev. Tobias -Starch in her younger days and wae rejected.” Rosy hada’t ever married, and a spinsterhood of thirty-seven teels such elander kinder heavy. Aa old: lady could laugh it off, bat when a! person ain’t neither young or old it’s harder for ’em ito bear. Mrs. Wood had said she couldn't stand to see Rosy 80 cut up, anddhere seemed no provin facts, unless I up and proved ’em, and’ ;proved "em before all Seapstone, too, in a kind of public way. “It had ought,” said Jeremiah, “io ‘be writ down and read as a paper, Jace Eliza, your air talented and hev the pen of a ready writer; then why | not give it in a literary form ?” “Jeremiah,” says I, “I will ; you inspire me. I will write it, and I will zead it at the minister's donation party ef I am spared. Oaly, Jeremiah, vou must go to the store and fetch home a bottle of ink, six pens and a .quire of T, I said this in such a solemn manner that Jeremiah replied “Amen,” quite unconscious, instead of sayin “I will,” as he orter. by the way. Read it loud, so that I shell know how it sounds before I read { people anxious for the worth of their EE ——————————— it myself,” I says, sinkin into the larg- est rockin chair and foldin my weary hauds. Jeremiah took the passel and re view it with a kinder sublime expres sion onto his countenance. “Jane Eliza,” says he, “when I view this here noble work I feel proud | of you. Your thought and feelin’s muet hev poured from you brain like it was a fountain. But, Jane Eliza, I hev read papers before public and you hev not. Ten minutes is considersd considerbul time fora paper, and fif- teen is the limit of patience, unless it air a lecture with tickets paid tor and money, when circumstances alters cases. This noble work, ef you was to begin to read it at the donation par- ty at about 8 o'clock, would take you until that evenin next week, allowin time for meals. It would be profitable for them to hear it there ain't no doubts. But do you think the mass of the population of Soapstone is capable of riveting their attention on anything for that there length of time?” Jeremiah’s words was uttered with a eolemnitude that proved tney were true* Ilooked at him speechless a minute, and says I: “Land sakes alive! I see it ali! My mental powers have got ahead of my common sense. What be I to do?” Sez he: “Before I speak you'll hev thought it out, Jane Eliza. Reduce it to fax. Read them to the donation party, and publish the rest ou’t in the shape of a book here-atter.” “Pardner of my life?’ gez I. “A woman that has no Lusband to ask ad- vise of is a poor, forlorn critter. I will expungh the ideas and confine myself to the fax, and read them to the meet- in,” But Jeremiah saved me the toil of this ruther menial labor by getting a copyboek and expunghing the facts into that in his best handwritin, while I washed up some flannels, and on New Year's eve I took my production It takes a lot of time for folks to get togetherard say thew how-’ye-do’s and get their hats off, and the appropriate time didn’t come for me to read until it was half past 9; then I riz up. I was glad Rosy Wood was there, and I was glad so many folks were out ; but I was kinder sorry to see a stranger— a middlin aged man, pretty bald atop— | apparently some one wisitin our dom- ; inie; but it couldn’t be helped, and everybody was lookin at me, and I; was obliged to start. i Bretheren and sistern,’ sez I, “I hev | Somethin here I wish to read to you. | It is a statement of the facts of the case betwixt Tobias Starch and Miss Rosy Wood. You may say inwardly, ‘Why rake ’em up after twenty years of silence?” Bretheren and sistern, it was others that raked 'em up and gave ‘em a wrong coloring. I stand here for to state the truth on my solemn Bible oath, with a wafer and a stamp at the bottom, and the names ot wit- ness attached. Some on ’em is dead and buried, but [ wrote 'em down all the same. It istryin me to stand here as I do, but the martyrs died for the truth, and I’m ready to suffer for it!” Here the strange.gentleman with the bald head said: “Good! Good! Right!” and gave courage, and I be- gan to read: “My friends,” sez I, “New Years day, as we all know, iis a day here for fun and frolicks and trick playin. They do say that Seapstone was fust gettled by folks from Sweden, and that they had them habits and customs and handed 'em down to their ances- tors. Perhaps it isso. Any way we do it, and we did it wore twenty years ago, when those of us that was born | was all younger than what we be this ‘New year’s eve, At that there time Miss Rosy Wood, a lady we all know well, was just seventeen, and full of fun as an egg is of meat, and being her ‘ma had departed this life, and she ~didn’t get on with her stepma, who is mow in glory, she boarded to my house dor a spell, ‘At that time there was a young man that was studying for the ministry a-boardin with me. Most of you re- member him. His name was Tobias Starch, He was just twenty, but stif- ferthan a poker. Laugh was not in hin, nor was he ever seen to smile, andihe had been told by his ma that girls always set their caps for young ministers, and that he must beware. Therefore he was always bewarin plain to behold, and the one he bewar- ed of most was Rosy Wood. .She was a girl that laughed considerable, and she kad a way of touchia folks on the arm when she spoke with her nice lit Bright and early he got the literary fixin’s, includia a wafer, for we had re. marked that legal afferdavids always had wafers onto ’em, likewise postage stamps, and day and night I sat before the succertary into the best parlor while thing went to rack and ruin. The turkevs ran away, Jeremiah’s tle hand, and all this seared Tobigs Starch and made him think she want. ed for 40 marry him when she wouldn't hev done it ef he'd groveled onto his bended knees before her. However, Tobias went around tellin the other students how bard it was for him to get rid of her attenticus, and they eame in a neat, compact form to the party. |1¥ ‘Well,’ says Tobias from ineide. * “Tobias,” says Rosy from outside the door, ‘are you very busy ?’ ‘Yes, said Tobias. “ ‘Too busy to come and spark a little?’ said Rosy. ‘Just a little. [I'l] have a lamp in the front parlor, and just you and me. Won't it be lovely, Toby, dear ?” : ‘ “I beg to be excused,’ says Tobias. “ I’ve sot so on it,’ says Rosy, whim- pering. ; “Kindly go away,’ says Tobias from inside. : “You are very cruel, Toby,’ says Rosy, ‘when you know how fond I be of you, Toby, darling.’ ‘Miss Wood,’ says Tobias Starch, ‘I have never given you the privilege to call me Toby. Stop doing it. Go away.’ “Toby, you can’t mean it,’ says Rosy. “1 mean it!’ called Tobias very snappish. “ ‘Tobias,’ says Rosy, as nat'ral as ever you heard, while we all choked ourselves with our han’kerch’efs, ‘To- bias. I hev concealed my feelin’s very keerful, but they can’t be retained no more, Hear me, cruel being!" “