b
11. L- JOIIXSTOJI, Editor.
HI 18 A PUKKJlAS WHOM THK TIIUTII MAKES FKKK, AID ALL ARK BLAVJBS BBI1DB,
EBPNSBURG, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 2, 1868.
VOLUME 2.
NUMBER 9.
The Cambria Freeman
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Resolutions of &jcktiea, or comjcaoiijca
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xs advertisement.
JOB r&IXTLffd.
TVs have made arrangements by which
re can do or bare done all kinds of plain '
MLd fancy Job l'nnting, such as iiooks,
i'ampbets. Show Cards, Bill and Letter
Zieaos, Handbill, Circulars, &c, in tlie Lent
style of the art and at the most modi-rut
prices. Also, all kinds of Buling. Blank
'K)ks, Book Binding, &c, executed toorder
tt g'Xid as the beet and us clamp as the
cheapest.
XOTHEE NEW WRrNKLE !
BOOTS AND SHOES
i-VJ ALL AGES AND BOTH SEXES.
7 liiJim to his large stock of Ite bevt
Eastern made
OES, BUSKINS, GAITERS, Ac,
ir LadUs' and ChiLhui's Hear,
ims sabbcriber has iutt addod to Lis assort
incut r. full and complete invoice of
vts and Shoes for Men and Youths,
:b. he will not only warrant to be supe
rior to any goods of like character now being
tfred k this market, but vastly better in
fpry respect than the slop-shop work with
vLich the country Is flooded. Remember
bt I offer no article for sale which I do
sj t guarantee to be regular custom made, of
'. best material aad superior finish, and
T lUe I do not pretend to compete in prices
r-l'JLi the dealers in auction goods, I know
Uai X can furubh BOOTS, SHOES, Lc,
tlt will give more service for leas money
Wiji any other dealer in thin community, and
I vledge myself to repair, free of charire. any
article that blav give way after a reasonable
and reasonable usage. Everybody is
.atccwuijy inviteu to can ana examine my
acd learn my prices,
'i ke subscriber is ateo prepared to manu
al re to order any and all work in hi line,
itf the very best material and workmanship,
s.aJ at prices as reasonable as like work can
i L-ltalned anywhere. French Calf, Com
;uon Calf, Morocco and all ether kinds of
I-t.lber constantly on band.
Store on Main street, aoxt door to
Crawford's Hotel.
JOHN D. THOMAS.
Ebensburg, Sept. 28, 1867.
ECURE THE SHADOW ERE
THE SUBSTANCE FADES.
PICTURES FORTHE MILLION.
Having located in Ebensburg, I would re
vtwytfully inform the public that I am pre
;.E.rvJ to execute PlIOTOGRAPUS in every
n-.y'if. the ait, from the smallest card I'ic
iure to the largest sized for framing. Pic-:-rt'ii
taker, in any kind of weather.
PHOTOGRAPHS PAINTED IX OIL,
INDIA INK OH WATER COLORS.
'.erv attention, given to the taking of
C-ui-rcn's pictures. but in clear weather only.
S-ocial attention is invited to my stock
tf i-rse riCTUHE FRAMES and PHOTO
(f UAPH ALBUMS, which I will sell cheap
er tban they can be bought elsewhere in
town. Ccpying and Enlarging done on rea
r.eaba terms. I ak comparison and defy
c-j-ji petition.
Thankful for past favors, I solicit a con--ftoce
of the same. Gallery on Julian street,
ro dears sosith of Town Hall.
T. T. SPENCE, Photographer.
Jfsbnrg. Nov. 14, 1867.
jESKSBTJRQ MARBLE W0KKS.
.:aving purchasi the Marble Works
- u High street, one door east of T. W. Wil
Jarns' Hardward Store, and supplied myself
Tito an extensive stock of TOMBSTONES,
I aui now prepared to furnish all work in
rxy line at tho lowest city prices, and feel
o2dent that I can render entire satisfac
tion to all who favor mo with their orders.
Partita desiring to purchape Tombstones are
respeitfally invited to call and examine spe
c'.mena on exhibition at my shop. Orders
t;t,:a a distance will be promptly attended
fio, Hni work delivered where desired.
jaa. 60, 1868. UTTINGER REED.
4 NY PEJISON inteading to build a
UJe or Barn, can buy Nails and
"X-arwaio beap by paying cash at
Fj- OEO. HUNTLEY'S.
OAUGAJNS can b had by buying
j'Jir f;io fcr canh at
2. CEO.IirKTLEy'S.
TUa. TRIPP AND DARBY DflBB
OX TUC SITUATION
We feel sure that our readers will be
greatly amused and gratified by the peru
sal of the following rich effusions from the
pens of Timothy Tripp and Darby Dodd,
which we clip from the Portfolio depart
ment of the New York Metropolitan Record
certainly one of the most ably conduct
ed and fearlessly firm exponents of Dem
ocratic principles published in the country.
Two of the sixteen pages of this mammoth
journal are generally devoted each week to
letters of this kind, while the greater por
tion of the other pages are taken up with
admirably written editorials and comrnu
nicalions on all the leading topics of the
day thus making altogether a newspaper
which no Democrat should be without
who can afford to subscribe for it. Hat
here are the letters, with the editor's com
ments thereon :
Fremi the Metropolitan liecord, March il.
UOSBy't LAST KAID.
It is not necessary to tell some of our
readers, we suppose, that Stanton was the
victim of a great hoax last week. Some
practical joker started a report that Mosby,
tiui one-time ubiquitous, had organized a
force of trusty spirits to seize Stanton and
Le.ir him off to some secluded spot in the
Blue Ridge, and was then lying in wait on
the Virginia side of the Potomac, ready to
pounce upon Edwin at the first favorable
opportunity. The story goes that Stanton
was so much scared by the prospect of
falling into the hands of the great raider,
that be had double guard stationed around
the War Department, and then dispatched
troops to guard the Potomac bridges, so
that Mosby could nut get at him without
fighting his way, at least. The troops,
we are told, watched the bridges one
whole night, and then returned to their
quarters, for Mosby had failed to put in an
appearance, and they came to the conclu
siyn that the story was a grand hoax. And
so it was, for the gallant raider of the BIi e
Kidge was quitely attending to bis buci
nrea in Warrentcn when Stanton thought
he was gutting ready to pounce upon
Washington. Our friend, Timothy Tripp,
comes in just when wo are wishing for
some one to dress up the Stanton scare in
tlie right way for the Portfolio, and hands
us the following capital version of it :
tanton's last scaek.
The night was dark, the night was chill,
All nature was at peace and still.
The hurly-burly of the day,
The sounds of pleasure or of fray ;
The jester's laugh, the mourner's sigh,
Were heard no more. The starless ky
Gave not a ray to light the gloom.
Opaque, impervious as the tomb ;
Sufferers at length no longer wept,
Iinpeacheis and impeachee slept.
And rich and poor forgot a space
The carts that hide in rags and lace,
By all of which I would convey,
Though in a periphrastic way,
The fact, with wordy trimmings dight,
That day had yielded uuto night,
And lamps, man's smbstitute for sun.
Lit up the streets of Washington.
But hark! what sounds are those that strike
Upon the ear and heart alike 1
What means that measured, steadv tramn?
Is Washington once more a camp ?
Does Stuart still our pickets drive?
la Stonewall Jackson yet alive ?
See where a light in yondr room
Strikes like a lancehead through the gloem!
Surely there's something going en there
Ah, Friend Asmodeus! through the air
Convey me quick, that I may know.
And ttll't to the Portfolio.
"Up with the roof," Asmodeus cries,
And un it roes. Itafrtrn mv va
And up it
The W ar Office lay open all,
From attic down to basement hall ;
What though 'tis locked with jealous care!
What thongh no strangers enter there
What though a "trooly Ioil" guard
Its sacred precincts watch and ward
With vigilant, unsleeping care
I and Asmodeus, enter there.
Good Lord, what sight affronts my gaee?
A quaking, shivering wretch displays
His coward fears without a blush -Is
it a man or what? "Hush, hush,"
Asmodeus whispers, "he will speak.
List the half-bully and half-sneak."
Stanton (loquilor)
' Oh ! are you aire the news is true,
And are you sure he's come ;
This is no time to think of rest,
I wish he'd stayed tu hum,
This is no time to think of rest.
When Mosby's at the gate ;
See that each door is double locked,
I I think I'll make him wait."
Euter a messenger in a flurry.
"Your Excellency, there's great noise
without, and much we wonder what it is
about. A man's just come with terror al
most dumb, who through white lipb hisses,
Mosby's come.' It can't be true, I'll not
believe such stories ; they're 6et afloat by
Copperheads and Tories. And oh ! your
Excellency, he 6ays that you had best be on
your guard, or you will rue"
Stanton
"Away, away ; rouse up the guard--
Let each see to bis gun ;
Put animonition in the ponch
Of every mother's son,
Can it bo true tho rebs are here ?
Will I and Mosby meet?
Not while there's reason in this brain
Or swiftness in these feet."
(Enter Sumner, Stevens and others.
Stevtns
"This is a bad business, Stanton; you'll
have but little left to vaunt on I fear, bu!
still I knew, like Danton, you can rave and
rage and rant on for any length of time.
But, Stanton, I came to you to-night,
though sick, to say to you but one word."
Sumner (interrupting)
"Stick!"
Stevens
Stanton, look out; there is a plot on
foot to fright, assault and capture you to
boot. The rebel rascals, driven on by An
dy, would stop at nothing, and they're here
quite handy. Therefore I come to you at
double quick, to say the best thing you can
do is"
Sumner "Stick!"
Stanton
"Oh ! of all the plots agoing
There's but one I care for knowing,
The one that's terror throwing
Round all in my employ."
Stevens
"The plot, no doubt of it's to get posses
sion of the War Office, and secure the suc
cession" (A jrowd of lackeys rush in, pale with
terror, and screaming in unison :
"John Mosby is comiDg, ohone !
Ohone !
And you bet he's not coming alone !
Ohone !
Pit-a pat go all hearts
In these diggins and parts.
For Mosby is coming, 'tis known,
Ohone !
And you bet he's not coming alone!"
Stanton
"Is there no peg whereon to hang a doubt?"
All
'No, no, no. no, the rebs are all about!"
Sianten
"What shall I do? We must take measures
quick.
Come, friends, advise, advise."
All "Cut stick!"
Sumner "Ay, Stick !"
Youve seen enough, Asmodeus criea.
We must begone, for lo ! time flies.
And very soon the morn will break.
Perhaps some other time I'll take
You on u. y rounds, and you s'isll see
More matter to Record, as we
Go roundabout here, Tripp & Co.,
Tripp
And write for the Portfolio.
I wanted, oh ! 60 bad, to ttay.
But who could say Asmodeus nay ;
So what they did and what they sjld.
What means they took, what way they fled,
I knew not, yet, although so near
To everything I wished to hear
Another proof, there's many a slip
You know the proverb,
Your.", Tut Tnipr.
DAUBT DODD'S LETTEK.
Dodd is still at the capital, notwith
standing the shabby manner in which he
has been treated by some of the persons at
present disgracing that place. The com
munication with which he favors the Port
folio to-day is general in its scope and
somewhat incoherent in style, but that is
nothing uncommon. Having already said
nearly everything we could think of con
cerning our correspondent, and his pecu
liarities being quite well known to those
who have followed him through the Port
folio, we refrain on the present occasion
from saying anything additional about
him :
Wajn-(jton, March 12, 1868.
Editor Portolio :
All without was dull and dreary, so within
my chamber cheery
In the large hotel of Wil lard set I musing
matters o'er ;
Musing on the tribulations which have fall'n
on many nations.
And the endless botherations that mankind
hath known before
Known and felt in all the dingy, dust-Ve-
sprinkled years of yore.
And shall know forevermore.
Rain was falling at the casemeat, and from
window down to basement
I could hear the wind complaining in a mel
ancholy roar ;
But I kept on with my musing, kept on
thinking, turning, choosing.
Till at last 1 fell to doting as I never dozed
before
Never dozed since first I scouted upon slum
ber's silent shore,
And I hope to dece no more.
For a sudden change came o'er me and I
thought I saw before me
Such an object as by mortal eyes was never
seen before.
And I shuddered, but was gladly roused by
some one fiercely, madly,
Fiercely, thunderously, madly, pounding at
my chamber door
Pounding like a thousand sledges on the
panels of the door,
Then I started up and swore.
What do you think of that ?
Don't say I was Raven mad when I wrote ,
it, for I wasn't. I
I was only Poe-etical.
I think a man can be Poe etical without
being Raven mad, but it is not the rule. j
The exception, rather. I
How fortunate it is for yourself and myself
that I did not become a regular poet.
It is bad enough to write letters from
Washington, but it would be infinitely worse
to write poetry from inspiration.
And my escape from that fate was very
narrow.
Let me briefly tell you of It. j
Whon I was a boy I was apprenticed to
the best poet in my native town, and I
would probably be in the almshouse or the
lunatic asylum by this time if I had not I
Packed up my duds in the night time
And silently stole away.
The business did notuit me.
It was not sufficiently intellectual, you
see.
The man I was apprenticed to used to
wash bis face and comb his hair once a
month, and write , poetry when he wasn't
doing that.
The first lesson he gave me was In amor
ous poetry, and the second was in starving.
I could manage the poetry pretty well,
bte the starving wag too mueh for me.
I began to lose flesh and my self-respect,
and finally made up my mind to lose sight
of my tutor.
So, as I have already remarked. I packed
up my duds in the night time and silently
stole away.
But I didn't steal an thing else.
The only pleasure I had during my ap
prenticeship was derived from the arimiiing
glances I received from the beautiful and
bewitching school girls of the town.
They knew I was learning to be a poet,
and every one of them fell in love with me.
It was very gratifying.
They are bigger and prettier now, and I
wish they would fall in love with ne again.
Just for fun, you know.,
I think Violante wouldn't mind it much,
but it she did, I could tell her that I didn't
reciprocate.
W'hich would satisfy her, of course.
Bless her dear heart, what a reasonable
girl she is !
But I am wandering.
In fact I have been wandering ever since
I packed up my duds in the night time and
Eilently stole away, and cannot at this mo
ment say when I may stop.
Let me see where was I ?
Oh ! I started up and swore !
Well, it isn't worth while to tell yeu what
I swore, but it was not to support the Con
stitution of the United States, anything in
the Constitution and lawi of any State to the
contrary, notwithstanding.
I immediately opened the door, and saw
a crowd of men standing outside. I recog
nized two of them as policemen in disguise,
but retained my composure.
Pray, gentlemen," said I, "to what am
I indebted for this visit?"
rray h 11 !" said a tall, rouh-looking
man behind the policemen, "you'll soon find
out. d m you!"
I looked at the man and discovered that
it was the Hon. Benjamin Wade, President
of the Senate, and President prospective of
the United States.
Mr. Wade has a pleasant habit of using
strong language, and the reputation of being
an exceedingly pious man.
The policemen stepped forward and one
of them said :
Mr. Dodd?".
I stood still and paid-
"At your service."
"Received anythiug from New York lately,
sir?"
"Yes."
"What was it?"
Fifty dollars for my last letter."
"Anything else?"
"Yes."
A box of any kind?"
"Yes."
The policemen looked at each other and
then at Mr. Wade, and Mr. Wade said he'd
be d d if he didn't think it was all right.
"Where is the box ?" said the second po
liceman. 'In my trunk."
Then they looked at each other again, and
Mr. Wade shook his head.
By this time the crowd had pressed into
my room, and I could hear whispers in which
I distinguished "Guy Fawkes," "Blow up
Congress." "Copperhead," "Traitor," "Re
bel," and several other words which made
me think I was suspected of some sort of a
conspiracy.
"Well, sir," said one of the policemen,
"we must see that box."
"All right ; you shall."
"We have received a dispatch from New
York, stating that a box containing":
"Hold up. Tom," said the second police
man, "don't blow ; that'll spoil the game, you
know."
Mr. Wade began to show some signs of
uneasiness, and finally when I took out my
keys and walked towards the trunk he said
to the policemen that he must see a man
down stairs, and went out of tho room quite
suddenly.
Then the fellows who came In with him
got uneasy, and said they wnnted to see
several men down stairs, and when I stooped
to open the trunk, they left the room about
as suddenly as Mr. Wade did. .
But the policemen stood their ground.
'Now, sir, for that box," said one of them.
I opened the trunk and took out a box of
paper collars, which I extended towards him.
lie looked slightly astonished, and turning
to his companion, remarked :
"Sold by thunder!"
Then both policemen left the room, and I
beard them say down stairs that that ere
glycerine Btuff must be somewhere else, for
the fellow up there didn't have nothing like
it.
After that they all went outside and stood
under my window, talking, and I thought I
would scare them a little.
So I opened the window noiselessly, and
taking some large torpedoes that I had in
my trunk since last Fourth of July, I thew
them as hard as I could on the flags which
Mr. Wade and the policemen were standing
on, and the effect was cheerful to contem
plate.
"H 11 and d n n!" said Mr. Wade,
'the infernal Rebels and Copperheads are
blowing up the capital !"
With that he made a rush down th
Avenue, to tell Congress, I suppose, that the
nitro-glycenne conspiracy was being carried
out, and I have not seen him since.
The policemen grabbed a little boy who
was passing when the torpedoes exploded.
and I understand they have sent him tr
New York to be examine 1.
I hope Mr. Kennedy won't be hard oa
him.
W'hen the scare was all over I went up to
see Mr. Johnson, and found him lookinc
hearty.
His appetite has not been impaired by anv-
thing particular.
He takes his beefsteak as usual, and
awaits results.
Stanton still runs the boarding: house at
the War Department.
lie told me yesterday he would fight it out
on that line if it took all summer.
I think Grant gave him that idea.
Ulysses is tranquil.
So is Mr. Welloe.
By-the way, Mr. Welles was quite sur
prised when he woke up a couple of davs
ago and found out what had happened.
He was asleep while impeachment and
the Stanton row were going on, and knew
nothing about them until he woke up.
Mr, Sewrd is as well as couldjbe expected.
He has just finished another brief dipatch
on the Alabama question.
He was only tw weeks writing it, and it
wouldn't fill more than six newspapers.
I mean to take it with me next summer
when I go In the country, and read it while
fishing. Y ours serene! y ,
Dabbt Dodd.
A BEAUTIFUL, STORY.
"A cheerful word of sympathy
May scatter clouds away.
One little act performed in lify
- Turns darkness into day."
On a warm summer afternoon a lay
breeze stole through the window of a
little hot district school house, lifting the
white curtains, and rustling the leaves of
the copy books that lay open on the desks.
Thirty or forty scholars of all ages were
bending over their writing, quiet and busy;
the voice of the master, as he passed about
among the writeTS, was the only sound.
But though silent this little hot school
room had its heroes and heroines as cer
tainly as the wider sphere of life.
The bell rings for the writing to be laid
by; and now comes the last exercise of
the day, the spelling, in which nearly all
the school join. At the head of the class
is a delicate little girl, in a blue dress,
whose bright eyes and attentive air show
that she prizes her place and means to
keep it.
Presently a word, which had passed all
the lower end of the class, came to Eunice.
The word was privilege. "P-r-i-v, priv
i, privi 1-e-g-e, lege privilege," spelled
Eunice. Hut the teacher, vexed with
the mistake at the other end of the clasp,
misunderstood her, and passed it. The
little girl looked amazed, the bright color
came into her cheeks, and she listened
eagerly to the next person who spelled it
as she had done.
"Right," said the teacher; "take your
place."
"I spelled it so." whispered Eunice to
herself, tears springing to her eyes as she
passed down. Hut too timid to speak to
the master, she remained in her place, in
wardly determined to get up again.
Hut her trials were not over. Many
expedients were tried in the school to keep
out the arch enemy of all schools whis
pering. At length the following was
adopted: The fir6t whisperer was stood
upon the floor in front of the teacher's
desk. Here he acted as monitor j as he
detected another he took his place, for at
the close of the school, the scholar who
had the whisperer's place was punished
very severely as the school phrase w3,
"took a feruling !" This plan appeared
to operate very well ; every one dread id
being found the last on the floor; but
though it secured an orderly school, many
of the parents and scholars doubted its
justice.
The boy who was on the floor when
Eunice loBt her place, was an unruly
fellow, who had smarted for his faults of
ten before ; and as school drew near its
close, he began to tremble. The instant
Eunice's whispered complaint reach his
ear, his face brightened up ; he was safe
now. And when the class was ditmissed,
he said. "Eunice whispered, sir."
Eunice rose, and in trembling voice re
lated what she had said ; but the teacher
Baw no excuse in it, and she was called to
take the place of the ungenerous boy who
had told on her.
liooks had been put away, and the
waiting school looked on in sorrowfulness
as Lumce left her seat to take the dreaded
punishment. She was one of the best
scholars, bright, faithful, sweet tempered,
and a great favorite. Every one felt that
it was unjust, and many angry glances
were at the boy, who was mean enough
to get a girl whipped. Overcome with
shame and fear she stood up by the desk,
crying bitterly, while the teacher was
preparing to inflict the punishment.
At this moment a tall boy stepped out
of the seat, ami going up to the desk,
said :
'Are you going to whip la nice, sir ?"
"Yes, I never break my rules," the
teacher said.
"We will not see her whipped !" said
the boyv in an excited voice. "There is
not a boy here, but one, that would see
her whipped. Whip me sir, and keep your
rule if you must, but don't touch that
little girl."
The master paused ; the school looked
on tearfully.
"Do you mean lo say that you will
take the punishment I" asked the teacher.
"I do sir," was the bold reply.
The sobbing little girl was sent to ber
seat, and without flinching, her friend
stood and received the punishment that
was to have fallen on her. The school
was dismissed, and the boys paid him
in admiration and praise for all be had
suffered, while the grateful little girl bless
ed him from her heart for a noble and
generous boy, who had saved her from the j
greatest shame and suffering.
I said the little school had Us heroes,
and this was one of them. Do you think
this conduct admirable.
Now for the moral. !
The punishment received by this noble j
boy was Christ-like ; it was one of suffer
iug from his own free will, the punishment
that was to have been borne by another.
You see do you not that this is just
what Christ did, who bore our sin ia Ili3
own body, on the tree the Savior of
men. How great the gratitude each of I
U3 owes to such a friend.
An cx-plainer A retired carpenter.
A SRCTtTl FROM LIFE.
"Ah, Jacob, now you see how all yotrr
hopes are gone, flere you are, all our
children removed from us by the hand of
death, and ere long we must be inmates of
the poor house. Where, now, is all the
bread that ypu have cast upon the water ?"
The old, white-haired man looked up at
bis wife. He was indeed bent down with
years, and age sat upon htm tremblingly.
Jacob Manfred had been a comparatively
wealthy man, and while fortune hnd smiled
upon him, be had ever been among the
first to lend a listening ear and helping
hand to the cause of distress; but now
misfortune was his. Of his four boys,
not one was left. Sickness and failing
health found him with but little, and they
left him penniless.
An oppressive embargo on the shirmint:
business had been the first weight upon hii
heao and other misfortunes came in pain
ful succession. Jacob and his wife were
all alone, and gatmt poverty looked them
coldly in the face.
'Don't rep'me, Susan," said tho old matt.
"True, we are poor, but wo aro not forsa
ken." "Not forsaken, Jacob4? Who is there
to help us now t"
Jacob Manfred raised his trembling fin
ger towards heaven.
"Ah, Jacob, 1 know God is onr friend,
but we ought to have friends here. Look
back, and see how many you have be
friended in days long past. You cast your
bread upon the waters, with a free hand,
but it hasjiot been returned to you t"
"Hush, Susan, you forget what you
say. To be sure, 1 may have hoped that
some kind hand of earth would lift me
from utter want : but I do not expect it
as a reward for anything I have done. If
I have helped the unfortunate, I have had
my full reward in knowing that I have
done my duty to my fellows. Oh 1 of all
the kind deeds I have done lo my suffer
ing fellows, I would not for gold have
them blotted from my memory. Ah, my
fond wife, 'tis the memory of good done
in life that makes old age happy. Even
now I hear the warm thanks of those
whom I have befriended and again I can
see their smiles."
"Yes, Jacob," returned his wife, in a
lower tone. "I know yon have been good,
and in your memory you can be happy ;
but, alas! there is the present upon which
we must look ; there hi a reality opon
wincn we must dwelt Ve must beg for
food or starve.'
The old man started, and a deep mark
of pain was drawn across his features.
"Beg P' he replied, with a quick Shud
der. "No, Susan, we are '
lie hesitated, and a big tear rolled down
bra furrowed cheek.
"We are what, Jacob f
"We are going to the poor house !"
"Ob, God ! I thought sol" fell from
the poor wife's lips, as she covered her
face with her handB. "1 have thought so.
and I have tried to school myself to the
thought, bat my poor keart will not bear
it"
"Don't give up, Susan," softly Orged
the old man, laying his hand upon her
arm. "It makes but little difference to
us now. We have not long to remain on
earth, and let us not wear out our last
day 8 fruitless repiniDgs. Come, come."
"Bnt when shall we go ?"
"Now 'to-day."
"Then God will have mercy upon us."
"He wilL"
The old couple sat for awhile in silence.
When they were aroused from their pains
ful thoughts it was by the flopping of ft
wagon at their door. A man entered the
room where they gat. He was the keeper
of the poor house.
"Come, Mr. Manfred," said he, "the
Selectmen have managed to crowd you
into the poor house. The wagon is at the
door, and you must get ready as soon tn
possible."
Jaeob Manfred had not calculated the
strength he should need for this ordeal.
There was a coldness In the very tone and
manner of the man who had come for him
that went like an iee-boh to hte heart,
and with a deep groan he sank into his
seat,
"Come, be in a Irtirry," impatiently
urged the keeper.
At that moment a heavy covered carry
all drove p to the ioor.
"Is this the hoase of Mr. Jacob Man
fred?" The question wa asked by a man who
entered from the carryall. lie was a kind
looking man, about forty years of age.
"That is my name," said Jacob
"Then tlrcy told me truly," uttered the
new comer.
"Are you the keeper of the almsbousef"
he continued, turning towards tho man.
"Yes."
"Are you after these people Y"
"Yes."
"Then you may retorn. Jacob Man
fred goes to no poor house while I atn
livrng."
The sfieaker razed inefursritrveTT into the
features of fhe man, and then left the
house.
"Dont you remember me T" exclaimed
the new comer, taking the old man by tha
hand.
"I carmot call you to my memory now."
"Do yon remember Lucius Williams ?"
"Williams T" repeated Jacob, starting
up and caxins: earnestly into the stranfrer's
face.
"Yes, Jacob Manfred Lucius Wil
liams. That little boy, wbom thirty
years ago you saved from the house of
correction ; that poor boy whom you bo
kindly took from the bonds of the law, and
placed on one of your vessel?."
"And are you "
"Yea i I am the man yoa made. You
found me a rough stone from the bands of
poverty and example. It was you who
brushed off tho evil, and first led . me to
the sweet waters of moral life and happi
ness. I have profited by the lessons you
gave me in early youth ; and the warm
spark which your kindness lighted op in
my bosom, has grown lighter and brighter
ever since. With an affluence for life, I
have settled down to enjoy the remainder
of my days in peace and happiness. I
have beard of your losses and bereave
ments. Come ; I have a home and a
heart, and your presence will make them
both warmer, happier and brighter. Come,
my more than father and yon, ray moth
er, come. You made my youth all bright,
and I will not let your old ago bo doomed
to darkness."
Jacob Manfred tottered forward, and
sank upon the bosom of hrs preserver.
He could not ?peak his thanks, for they
were too heavy for words. When ho
looked up again, he songlrt his wife.
'Mrsan," ho said, in a choking tone
"my bread ha3 come back to me."
'Forgive me, Jacob."
"No, Susan ; It is not I who mast fur
give God holds ub in His hand."
"Ah," mannered his wife, es she raised
her streaming eyes to heaven, "I will never
doubt nim again."
A9S ARiriYEKS ARTIST.
Cwsar Dueornet was bom In Lille,
France, January 10, 1808. Born as he
WA9, without arms, what was for him to
do even in this busy world ? Each foot
had but four toes, but he early learned to
use these to advantage. When very young
he could with ease throw a ball, cut with
a knife, and draw lines on the floor with
chalk, and eoo'd even cut figures on paper,
with his mother's scissors. lie early be
came a good penman. From this he
passed to drawing, and naturally enough
to painting, the wide space between his
great toe and the next enabling him to
grasp his brush firmly. At the age of IS,
h!s progress astonished Waftcau, professor
at the school of design in Lille, who re
ceived him as a papil. Only three years
later he took the first prize for a drawing of
the human figure from nature. After this
he pursued lira studies in Paris. He was
of lively temperament, and when in con
versation he became animated ; he was in
the habit of gesticulating with his legs, as
other persons do with their arms.
SoTue One has described ft visit to his
painting room, wfcich i3 interesting:
"Across fhe whole extent of the canvass
ran, with incredible agility, like a fly upon
the wall, the stunted trunk of a man, sur
mounted by a noble bead, with expansive
brow and eye of fire ; and whenever the
apparition passed alorjg tho canvass, he
left the traces of color behind him. On
ftpf reaching a few paces nearer, we were
ftwaro of a lofty but slender scaffolding in
front of the canva??, up and down and
across the Steps and stages of which efi rob
ed and touched and twisted, iKrpossibleto
describe how the shnpelef being we had
come to see. We saw then that he was
deprived of arms ; that ho had no thighs ;
that his short logs were closely united to
his body and that each of Iris feet wanted
a toe. By one of his feet ho held a pa
lette by fire other a pencil ; in his mouth,
also, Ire carried ft large brush ani a second
pencil.
"And in all tuts harness he movod, and
rolled and writhed, and painted, In a man
ner more fban marvellous ! A voice
musical graffe and sonorous, saluting us
Itj name, invited bs fb be seated. Then
the apparition glided down the whole
lergfh of fhe Fcaffold to tire ground, ad
vanced, or rather rolled towaxd us, and
with a bound established himself1 on th
sofa at oar side. We watched Kim with
interest and had a long Conversation with
him. Ha told us ho had been born with
out arms, and had been a painter tea
years, and was now making money by hia
art. He trsed his feet with almost as
mffch ease as people'do their hands, hold
ing his palette in his left .one, arid hia
brush in his right, as though a' his toes
were fingers changing fhem'vfTth the most
perfect facility, and ever thmstkig his
foot p to his pockef, as another nan
weald his hand. He wrote his name for
us with great rapidity and well, and told
tts be shaved Wrxrself."
A few rJATS ago the agent of ao 'acci
dental insurance company eotered a nulroad
car, and approachln"ftn exceedingly gruff
old man, asked hira if he did not vmnt to
"taks out a policy ." ne was totd "to get
out with his policy," and passed'on. After
riding about an hour , an accident oocorred
to the train, and fhe crfr ran over the
sleepers, causing - much consternation
among the passengers. The old man
jumped up, and seizing a hook at the side
of the car to steady himself, cafleul out,
"Where is thnj: Insurance man"' The
question caused a roar of laaghter among
the passcnrjprsV who for the time forget
their dauOT.
. Of all tho young women mentioned ia
the Bible Rath seems to hare treated her
sweetheart the worst- She polled bis
ears add trod on bis corn,