A SinKC, Editor and Publisher. hb is a prbeman whom the troth makes free, ako am, are uteS beside, - Tms MT .
- - . . , . -. Terms, $2 per year In advance.
bLUME 4
EBENSBURG, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 1870.
NUMB ER -T4
b. SPRING. 1870.
' . ,..1 4-.-. fT
J m now pn-piwtu w unci
rpERlOR INDUCEMENTS
TO CS POKCITASKRS OF
! aRT-nnW ft CHFPF.R Mil
EITHER AT
WHOLESALE OR RETAIL.
lxi consists in part of every variety of
Tin, Sheet-Iron,
rrR AND BRASS WARES,
ESAMKI.I.KD AND l'l.AIN
aucepans. boilers &c ,
is' IjOL'SF. FURNISHING HARD
"VACE OF EVERY KIND.
F prat 'a Anli-Ouit
Tii; and COOKIMi STOVES,
KELS1UR COOKISG S'JVVES.
LE 'I'lUUMTH am. PA If LO It COUK-
' ISO STOVES,
iir.y Cocking Stove desired I will get
a orJerrd at manufacturer's prices.
ttove I'lates aiul Grates, &c, fur re-
on fur '.he Stoves I sell ; others
e ordered when wanted. Particular
attftition given to
:uting, Valleys and Conductors,
f which will be made out of best mato-
L, and put up by competent workmen.
sp Burners, Wick and Chimneys
WHOLESALE OK KETAIL-
uM call particular attention to the Light
..tliurrkr, with Glass Gne, for giving
t liilit than any other in use. Also, the
hiaguii DKrner, fir Crude Oil.
GAR KETTLES AND CAULDRONS
bf all sizes constantly on Laud. .
Special attention given to
bbing in Tin, Copper and Sheet-Iron.
at lowtfi poibible rates.
Wholesale Merchants' Lists
jsv ready, and will be sent on application
by mail or in persjD-
Inpirtj tope all my old customers and
ny new unea thi Spring, I return my
. . .1 e .i i
buicere uianKs mr tne very tioeral pa
1 have already rcceiveu, and will
aver to tlas-a.l whuinav call, wiieth-
Ley luy vr ujt
... y w
FRANCIS W.
hay.
lhn.-town, March 7. 18C7.
SLaT- Rkdictiox in Pkices !
TO CASH It I Y Eh SI
tT tiii: i:ki:sri iig
Jri IrVll'NIVfl cm
iaiulersi.T.td respectfully iniornis the
'st.f EU-usburg and the oullic tener
lilt lie has made a great reduction in
to CASH KUYEIiS. My stock will
;t.m part, of Cocking, Parlor and UetU
of the most popu'ar kinds ; Tin-
LI everv CPseriiitinn of mv nwn m.m-
. l - v .- ' luau
are; Hardware of all kind, such as
s.Sc.ews, Butt Hinges, Table Hinges,
tT Hinges, Eo'.tF, In n and Nails, Wiu
CUU'utty, Table Kuives and Frk?,
:T 1'r.iri.i ...1 V U f.. I-.
Li n iumo, Dieat tuners,
VPrs, Pen and Pocket Knives in
f 1 "r.e'.T, Scissors. Shears, Kazors and
h. .ixes, lUchets. Hammers. Borine
'". Augers, Chissels, Planes, (bm
'VVjiiaw, Files, Hasps. Anvils, Vises,
ucnps, ,Tp panei nrlfi
--"fS. Grind Stonpa Potnt 'T..l-.0t,o
!,'uI :'fta'Urt'R. Lumber Sticks, Horse
we Siioes. Cast Steel. RirW Shnt
UvuUtr, pistols. Cartridges. Pow
!". I-al. Ac, Odd Slove Plates,
7 , 'ire 5"fk. Well ad Cistern
' a,ul Uhinir : Ihll-nr
'wall km.l; Tchnanil Willow Ware
Tan.-ty ; Cnrb.ni Oil and Oil Lamps,
'. Lard n;i r;
' v' ware, t aicw, v armsn
AMILY GROCERIES.
'in.'MJ'M. .VC.
.a.'tlft. Sugars, Molasses, Sjr-;-l''cw.
Dried Peaches. Driel Apples,
: tl-miny, Craokera, Rice and Pearl
r-'w; Faint. Whitewash. Scnb. Horse.
"t:ng. Varnish. Stove. Clothes and
a "rushes. nTI h-xr,ATLJ T...1
nd M;inillf, P,..."
the lowest rates for CASH.
VAue Spouting made, painted and rut
,f ww rates for cash. A liberal discount
country dealers buying Tinware
rim -IITT.,mi-n'W
r8jfb. 28. 1867.-tf.
;eorgeTv. yeager,
WfcM.l. and Uetmll
Dealer in
MTINS AND COOK STOVES
0P EVERT DESCRIPTION,
p. COPPEfl nil mmim mi
UUIIUI 1UU13 IIUiAXJ
his own manufacture,
Gf M FD A I lonnrn nnnn-riim
-'-iinL juDoLn in ruu i inu
all other work in hi Hue.
'a Street, near Caroline Street,
ALTOOXA, PA, -
fil l'h. lhe Clv naving the right to
rnoned "BARLEY slTEAF
c0h. SfOVE. the most perfect
cor,ipiet-and Batisfactory
.v.e eTer introduced - - - " '
to the public. - ; ' -
IitmiKSE. -. Prices Low.'
IfACTlON GUARANTEED.
k an?iBErER, BEST
The best
i and v. uo.
f 4L L nPe.Bt Tobac "a Cigars m towa
- , . VV UV fr .
4c rc r ..ii i
r-- i. Kinrts. hhovels. Spaces, Scythes
Forks, Sleigh Bells,
LWs, Pc;;.,, ',yax RristlPs
1
REAL ESTATE
SAVINGS BANK,
No. C3 Fourth Avcnne,
Adjoiuing new Merchants1 and Manufacturers
National Bank,
PITTSBURGH, PA.
ESTABLISHED I 18C2.
ISAAC? JONES. President. -WM.
H. SMITH, Vice Presid eot. ,
S. S. CARRIER. Sec. and Treas.
B C. PARKE. Accountaut.
E. B. TOUD, Solicitor. "
TEl STErS : '
Hon. Thos. M. Howe, Jacob Painter,
Hon. J K. Moorhead, C. O. Hussey.
Harver Childs, W'm. II. Smith, '
Isaac Jones, P- w- c- Bidwell,
Nicholas Voeghtly, Jr.
Statement of October 30, 1S69,
ASSETS 1 .
Bonds and Mortgages, being first
liens on Real Estate $502,957 0o
U. S lc!l Bond,atpar S"t,0'JQ HO
IT- S. 10 40 Boiida. at par 25,000 00
Real Estate 2,720 47
Office Furniture 418 60
Cusdj 51,400 32
x Total $6tl7,4D6 3U
LIABILITIES."
Amount due Depositors 550, 1C3 71
Interest,
Nov. 1.18C9 .... 14.027 79
Contingent Fund : . 43.364 59
Total.,... '; $fi07.4'Jtf 39
INTEREST ALi.OWF.1)" on Deposits, at
C1X PER CENT. PER ANNUM, payable to
Depositom in M iy ai.d November, which, if
not drawn, will be added to the principal, and
COMMCSDKn. " '
Open Tor Deposit from 9 A. M. to 3 P. M.,
daily : also on Saturday Evenings, Irom G to
9 o'clock.
2P"Money loaned on Bund and Mortgage
only. Slips for the use of depositors who can
not v'sii the city, and copies of Charter and
By-law furnished bv mail.
" S. S. CARRIER,
Secretary and Treasurer,
No. 63 Fourth Ave., Pittmbcecii, Pa.
November 25, lfcOU. 5m.
5-20 3 AND ssrs
B'JVGHT, SOLD AXD EXCIIANOtP
OX MOST LIBERAL TERMS.
liOCGIIT AND SOLO AT MARKET 1?ATE8.
COUPONS CASHED,
PACIFIC R. BONDS
KOICSIIT AXI SOLD.
STOCKS BOUGHT AND SOLD
ox coirxissiox oxly.
Accounts Receiv'd and Interest ANow'd
OX DAILY BALANCES,
SUBJECT TO CHECK AT SIGHT.
r'. 40 Moxitlx TIIIR D Street,
rillLADELPIIIA.
OF HAKTFOUD.CONS.
Ciaatl S. Ecsrs, Pres't. - - Fraacli 8. Dosglass, Sec'y.
rpHIS COMPANY ranks among the first
JL class Life Insurance Companies doing bus
iness in Massachusetts, and by complying with
the laws of that State, insures perlect safety
to her Policy Holders. It grants 50 per cent,
loan of premium on Life Policies to its Insured,
and by applying all the cash collected from its
members to Iusurince, gives the largest Insu
rance attainable for the amount of money in
vested. Its profits are divided among the Pol
icy Holders, and its Dividends have never been
less than 50 per cent., thus bringing the net
cent of the Insurance within the most limited
means, and affording the protection of a Policy
on terms not excelled by any Company,
s Trustworthy and reliable men are wanted to
act as agents for this Company in Cambria
and adjoining counties, and with such the most
liberal arrangements will be made. To those
who may be unacquainted with the business,
full instructions and aid will be most cheerful
ly rendered whenever desirable or available.
COPE & JOHNSON, . i
Ageuts for Cambria County. ; ;
Johnstown, Pa.
IIoMt & Norton, General Agents, t4 Fourth
Avenue, Pittsburgh, Pa. apr.l4.-ly.J
Poor women are oft every side, and orphans
cry for bread, because husbands and fa
thers lived and died uninsured."
AMERICAN
1YCI niYliti
im)uii.iiu Li vun
OF PHILADELPHIA.
Organized 185 0.
ALfcx.WmiADiJi.Prea.. .Jonx S. Wilsok, Sec.
All policies non forfeitable. All policies are
payable at death or ou years ot age.
Economy in management, Cark :n the selec
tion of risks, Promptness in the payment of
death claims, and Skcuritt in the investment
of its immense funds, are rigidly adhered to and
have always characterized this Company.
J. FRANK CONDON,
Special Ageut. -
Nov. 11, 1B69.-1.T.
AUDITORS' NOTICE
Estate of JankHowxand.
The undersiened.' having been appointed
Auditar bv the Court of Common Pleas of
Cambria county, to make distribution of the
money in the hands of the Sheriff arising from
the eale of the real estate of Jane Rowland
(late Jane Rodgers) and Isaac Rowland, her
present husband, ' hereby gives notice that he
will attend for that purpose at bia office in Eb
ensburg, on Tcxsoy, th 17tb or May, at 2
o'clock, p. if., when and where all persons in
terested ccrj atKnd. : . JOHN gMSYy
THE GREAT FLOOD.
A GUANDMOTUKIt S STORY.
How long was it, do you risk, little
Benny ? Sixty-one years, if it was a
day.. It. is now June. I was eeventy
nine the tenth of last April ; and that
worst day of lhe Great Flood was on one
other tenth of April, exactly sixty-one
years before. ' It Was my eighteenth birth
day, too ; I remember it as well as any
thing else that happened. For that matter
I remember it all well enough;, it's not
very likely that I shall forget such a time
h8 that was until the sods cover me.
Come here to my knee, little Kenny, and
I'll tell you all about it. :
. The country was new then not so new
that the Indians or wild animals troubled
us much, for there were only a few of the
Uelawares. very near us, and they were so
much civilized that they cared for nothing
but whisky ; and a stray wolf or cata
mount was all that troubled our pigs or
chickens When I say it was a new
country, I mean that it was pretty much
all woods, with very few settlements, and
not many people in them. They were
mostly along the , banks of this river, for
almost every one was lumbering or raft
ing ; and that was what brought father
here from Vermont. My mother died
away up among the Green Mountains ;
and it always seemed, to me as if he
couldn't bear the old homestead after
that. He grew very restless and uneasy ;
and one day he came home early in the
afternoon and said to me :
"Daughter, I have a chance to sell fhe
place at a bargain." Shalt I do it ? This
hasn't been like home to me for two
months. I think I'm wanting new scenes
and new faces to blunt the grief I have
for her that's left. us. Shall we go to
Pennsylvania, Hessy t I've a plan to go
into the lumber tnfde ; and mayhap I'll
make so much money in a year or two
that we'll go to Philadelphia, and you'll
be a fine lady the rest of your days.
Shall we go', liessy V'
Poor father! The dear, kind soul
lived and died with the wish, nearest his
heart to make me a fine lady. I'm thank
ful that he never saw it accomplished ;
but he did see me become a useful woman,
and, I hope and trust, a good wife and
mother. How that happened, Benny, is
the story that I'm telling you now.
Look from the north window, there,
boy ; I'd come and look with you, but my
rheumatism is bad to-day. No matter.
Dj you see that long point of land, a
mile up stream, that runs out into the
water ? Yes ! well look a little closer at
it. Farthest from the shore it spreads
out into an acre of good, high land, but
the narrow neck that joins that to the
shore is commonly almost as low as the
bed of the stream. There are great high
stepping stones across it now, that father
laid there when we first came; and we
used to walk dry-shod over them when
the spring rains had raised the river. I
remember but ono solitary time when the
water covered the stepping stones as well
as the neck "of land, and that was the
time of the great flood.
Our little house was built on that high
land out in the middle of the river a two
story frame affair, with two rooms down
stairs and two up ; and, after all, it took
all the neighbors to raise the roof. It was
an odd notion of father's in putting it
there ; l'C u?ed to say that the day would
come when he could sell' off valuable
water privileges around his acre. That
day hasn't come yet, Benny ; but some
times, when I think of poor, dear father,
and all his plans and schemes for me, and
of what happened, I really think that
something like Providence put it into his
heart to fancy that queer little corner out
there in the river, and to build our house
there. I am going to tell you what I
mean right away. ...
After the? little house was built. and fur
nished,! I stayed at home and kept it, and
father took to the wjpods with the loggers.
He led a hard enough life from that time
on till he died ; summer and winter he
was at woik with his men sometimes at
the logger's camp, then hauling the logs
to the river and rafting them down to the
bay, where he sold them to the contractor.
There were weeks' when he wouldn't
be at home a day but Sunday ; but when
he was rafting I often heard his shout on
the river, and could see bun. waving his hat
from the: raft as it went slowly down the
stream with the currents 1 hopa I was
a good "daughter in those days ; I tried
my best to do all I' could for bim. I kept
the house neat and tidy, and mended bis
clothes ;, and regularly once a day I cook
ed a great mess which was taken up hot
to the logger's camp in a great tin pail
that was got from the city. -
I was lonesome-like often enough, for
there were whole days that I did not see
a human being to exchange a word with,
but Ben Sample, who almost always came
for the dinner. Heigh ho I Its long
enough ago that I'm telling you of, and
handsome Ben Sample was then hardly
twenty-one. I don't know, my boy, but
the lads are as handsome and sprightly
and as good now as they were threescore
years ago ; if I 6ay not, it. may be because
I see them through an old woman's eyes.
And that I can't see the charm that I
could once. However that is, I know I
never saw so fine a lad every way as that
one was.1 He was not over tali, nor yet
short : he. was of middling' height, with
i broad, eboalders and. big hands, and was
as strong as any two of them so father
said. He had curly chestnut hair, and
red and white cheeks, like a girl, though !
sunburnt ; and his eyes were great blue
eyes, and his teeth shone so when he
laughed, (and that was often,) that any
body would have liked him." - And then
he was so honest and clever, and so kind
and obliging, that before I bad seen him
many times I came to like him right well ;
and one day I happened to say to father
that I thought Ben Sample was an excel
lent lad, and that I wished I could have
more of his company. I never saw father
look stern all of a sudden, as he did then ;
and I never heard him speak so stern,
either.
"Better leave him to his place, Bessy,"
he said, very quick and sharp like.
"He's naught but a poor lumberman,
after all," and he's not likely to be aught
else. So don't be tender with him,
daughter ; I bid you naught, ' If you've
felt any too kind to him you must check
it in time. . Have little to say to him,
daughter ; it's your father's wish."
Poor Ben I There had been no talk of
love between us before this mornincr. and
I do not know that I had thought of him
at all as a lover ; but by and bv after a
few weeks more, when I had tried hard to
obey my father's command and treat him
colJly, he lingered one day over the great
tin pail long enough to press my hand,
and whisper bashfully
"Dear Bessy!"
I snatched my hand away and looked
hard at bim, and told him that he must
never say or do that again. He left me,
looking as grieved as I ever saw another
mortal look ; and when he was gone, I
went out to the log seat by the river and
cried as though my heart would break.
I didn't know my feelings till then, but if
Ben Sample could have seen me that half
hour !
Ben did not come with the great pail
after that ; another man took his place,
and things went on in the old lonely way
all the rest of that winter and through the
next spring." It was the first week of
March, I think, of that year, that father
brought young Mr. Cardie to the house.
Young Mr. Cardie was the only son of
old Jacob Cardie, the millionaire, who
lived in Philadelphia, and was contract
ing with father lor all his logs for years
to come. The old man meant that youn
Jacob should succeed him in business in
a few months ; and ha thought it would
be an excellent thing to send him up into
the logger's country for awhile, to get ac
qnainted with the difFetent kinds of lumber
and the process of cutting it and getting it
to market. Father thought it would be
an excellent thing for himself to entertain
him at the house while he remained ; and
so for the next five weeks they were reg
ularly at home morning and night, sleep
ing in the house and spending the day in
the woods or on the river. But it wasn't
hard to see that young Mr. Cardie grew
tired of this very soon ; and presently he
began to come back to the house in the
middle of the day, and fish or shoot in the
neighborhood until night.
You'll want to.know what kind of man
he was. lie was pale and slender ; hand
some enough for those that like such beau
ty as that in men ; and rather foppish,
with Ins diamond ring and his silky mous
tache, lie was very polite, too, and be
would talk and chatter as city folks can ;
but I never thought there was much heart
or good feeling in anything he said or did.
Yet he seemed to like me from the first,
and poor father whispered to me ten times,
if he did once : .
"Play thy cards shrewdly, Bessy, and
thou'lt catch him! He'll make thee a
lady, girl, and a rich one !"
And stranger things have happened, I
know, than my marrying bim would have
been ; surely affairs were rapidly drifting
towards it, and I had almost succeeded in
crushing the thought of Ben Sample out
of my heart, and playing the part that my
father wished me to play to young Mr.
Cardie, (for I never could have persuaded
myself to love him,) when that fatal Tenth
of April came that brought my eighteenth
birthday and the Great Flood together. .
The river had been rising slowly for a
week before it, and there had been much
rain with us. We heard reports of tre
mendous rains in the mountains two hun
dred miles north of us, which lasted for
davs and days ; and the river continued
to rise steadily and slowly, though up to
that day' it was not over the stepping
stones across the neck. '
, On the morning of. the tenth the rain
came down at .first steadily, and Mr. Car
die thought he would not leave the house.
Father went: over to the camp just after
breaktast, saying that ho would return as
nsual toward night ; and so we two ppent
the day alone together. 'I tried to talk
with him and interest him, but he was
restive and uneasy, and half the time was
idly turning over leaves or drumming with
bis fingers on the window-panes. - -
It was about the middle of the after
noon, when I was wondering what I should
do next, (and thinking a little of poor Ben
Sample, I believe.) that Mr. Cardie turned
short around to me and said, very abruptly:
"I'm going bask to the city to-morrow,
Bessy. I want, to know if I can come
back here in ihrea months that'll be the
middle of July and make you my wife?"
I looked Btraight at him and said not a
word, but, oh, my boy, how I did. think
of Ben!" '
"I'm rich enough for both of us, and
to "pare," he wool on ; "and you're every
thing I want in a wife'. .. You know you're
nanasome, isessy, ana l suppose you are
good. "Will you marry 'me when I come
again!" ' - -
I never thought of myself or my own
feelingB ; I put all thoughts of Ben out of
my head, remembering my father, and
faid, "Yes !" nothing i more. I don't
know whether. Mr. Cardie would, have
kissed me or not he had no chance
for hardly had I spoken that word when
there was a knock at the door, and I open
ed it to admit Ben Sample, himself!
We were all three of us rather ill at
ease for a moment. Mr." Cardie knew
Ben, I suppose, and must have heard
something about his old feelings for me,
for he stepped back to the window' and
frowned, never ' speaking or nodding to
.Ben, who stood there with his hat twirling
in his hand, awkward and abashed. He
only found his tongue when I asked him
to sit down ; then he said : '"
'Nay, I can't stop. I only came to
bring your father's message that he won't
be home to-night. : The rise in the river
has broken loose the great raft at Logan's
Ford, that was to be floated down to
morrow morning, and he's gone up with
all hands to moor it. He can't be here
to-night." '
That was awkward news to me, I
had never thought of staying in that lone
ly place without father ; and it was little
consolation to think of Mr. Cardie as a
protector. Just as I had a question on
my tongue, Ben Fpoke again: - - i
"You don't know how fast the river is
rising,'f he said. " "Out on the stones the
water is almost to the tops of roy boots,
and is rising higher."
"Do you think there is any danger in
staying here to-night ?" I asked, in some
alarm.
"Maybe not," he answered doubtfully,
"but I never knew the river to be so high
before."
"Ben, Ben. what shall I do?" I took
no notice at all of Mr. Cardie, and felt no
safety except from the presence of Beu.
'Didn't father send any other word?"
"None at all."
"And won't you stay?''
"After what has happened, Bessy? I
shouldn't think you'd wish it."
. Then he must have seen how grieved
and sorry I looked, and how alarmed I
felt, for he added, right away:
"Yes, I will stay, Bessy; if you wish
it, though I trust and believe there's no
danger."
I. thanked him with a look, and before
I could say anything more, Mr. Cardie
spoke.
"Do you think there's any danger of
the river upsetting the house !" he asked.
"It surely will if it rises high enough,"
Ben replied. "Hark, hear that !"
Generally, when the door was open, we
could hear a faint ripple of current, but it
now bad a coarse, loud 60und that was
new to me. Ben looked dubious as he
heard it.
"I don't like that," he said. "Let me
go out and see."
He was not gone three minute?, and be
came back with his face full of trouble.
"The water is within twenty feet of the
door," he said. 4 'I don't suppose I could
wade from here to the bank. We must
leave here at once, and when you're safe,
I'll come back and save some of the things
If the water gains like this, all the floor
will be under in an hour."
He went out again ; I knew what for.
The west foundation wall of .the house
was next the river, and father always
kept a skiff tied there. I understood from
what Ben said, that he. meant to bring
the skiff round to the front and take us to
the shore. I was putting oh my hood and
shawl when he came back. " His face was
as pale as ashes," and never noticed me at
first, but looked all round the room , and
into father's chamber. . '
"Where's that fellow Cardie?" he asked.
I had not noticed that he was gone ; he
had been standing by the window just be
fore Ben went out the last time.
"I thought it," Ben cried, and his face
looked half sorry, half mad. "Bessy, do
you know what has happened ? The skiff
is gone ! and that man with it." -
I looked terrified into his face, and then
followed him to the door and looked out
with him. It' was almost night, but what
there was of daylight left showed us a
mad, white-capped torrent Of. water, rush
ing through the channel between us and
the shore so near to us that we. could
have stepped off the lower step into it, and
roaring and whirling, in a manner that
was fearful to see. ' The rain had ceased
and I'didn't then see how the; river could
rise so ; but I understood it ' afterward,
when they told me tfiat it was all owing
to a sudden thaw up in the mountains that
had melted the snow in the gorges and,
poured hundreds of new streams into the
rivet all at once... We looked a moment,
and then came back into the room. I
was afraid, I suppose ; but not so much as
I thought at ' first. - Somehow I . felt a
sense of security with Ben Sample there,
that robbed the situation of all the terrors
it would have had without him.' ; I hard
ly thought of Jacob Cardie, and now mean
and heartless be was to abandon us 60
and deprive us of the " means of safety,
when Ben warned to save us together.
"Ben will save me," was all I could think
of; and! suppose I repeated the words to
myBelf a hundred times. Once I must
have spoken aloud, for he said
: "I wiil, Bessy God' willipg. I will
pray for strength that I way.". t I
He knelt there on the floor and prayed
and I knelt beside him ar.d took one of
his hands in both of mine.. . When we
arose we heard the first low washing f
the water against the east FidVVf'.the
house, mingled with the louder rushing
and brawling of the torrent beyond,
When it grew so dark that T could not
see Ben's face, I lit a candle ; and we sat
Ihere together in silence, I holding his
hand. My heart was too full for speech,
and Ben said nothing but a word of com
fort now and then, c: ;;:..-. ' .
, There's nothing foj. us;!o do but to
stay here and hope for tUe best," he told
me once. And then added, "While there
is life there's hope; and when there's none,
I'll not leave, Bessy."
Dear, noble' Ben I ' T wanted tn ilmw
myselt on his breast and tell him my se
cret, but something prevented I" don't
know what and I only pressed the hand
that I held. There was no slackening to
the river ; it rose higher and higher every
moment, and by ten o'clock . the water
was over the floor where we stood. Ben
had carried the trpnks and the things I
cared most for up ptairs ; and then we
took to the second story. Here we stayed
for two hours more, I .listening all the
time for the sound of oars and voices, for
I hoped that father would come and take
us off. Midnight came, and I 'grew im
patient, and complainingly asked 'Ben if
he could tell why father did not come-and
'rescue ns. . : - .....
. .''I'm afraid I can, Bessy," he answer
ed with a grave face. "The great. raft
went down the river two. hours ago; I
heard the voices of men shouting, .and I
don't doubt your father is carried away
with the rest. But don't be afraid ihey
are all safe, I hope, and they'll get to
shore when morning comes."
I couldn't help crying when he 'told
me that, and I nestled up to him as if I
had been a child, and he put his strong
arm around me. It was not long after
this that we felt the house settling and
tipping, and not much longer wheait ca
reened half-way over, and was whirled
away into the river, by the torrent that
had been undermining the foundation.
That was an awful hour my 1ad ! Ben
held one hand around me, and with the
other hand grasped the window sill, while
he braced his feet in the corner of" the
room ; and the rising and the falling of
the poor wreck under us, a3 the heavy
current swept us along, gave me at first
the feeling that we were going first to the
bottom. The wind moaned outside, the
water beat against the planks,, and the
beams cracked and gaped as though tho
poor old bouse was falling apart. Lonsc
Uelore dayligut we both saw it was set
tling down deeper and deeper into the
water, which rose over the upper floor ;
and when Ben had succeeded in knocking
out the skuttle, he dragged me out on the
roof how, I don't know. I only know
that he did it, aud but for him my drowns
ed body would have floated there in that
old wrecked house when morning came.
And 1 don't know much about the rest
of how that dreadful night passed. Ben
sat upon the ridgepole, and held me on by
main strength ; and in the cold and dark
ness I believe I slept ; certainly I forgot
where I was for a long time, and forgot I
was cold too. But then I didn't know,
until I woke up at broad daylight, that
Ben had taken his coat off and put it
around my shoulders. The house had
sunk so low that one of the eaves was
tipped clear out of the water, and the
other was three feet under. We were
drifting slowly down the centre of tho
stream ; the shore was almost a mile off
on either side, and there was not a sail nor
sign of help in sight. I looked at Ben
perfectly hopeless und calm in my despair,
and he looked back with hope and course-
"There's one hope yet, Bessy," he said,
cheerily ; and his finger pointed to an ob
ject floating ten rods behind us an object
the sight of which filled my heart with
gratitude to God, that He had heard and
had answered our prayers. It was my
father's skiff, with the oars lying in the
bottom of it, following along in our tracks
as if to save us from destruction. I un
derstood at once how it was : Jacob Car
die had drawn it up on the shore after
deserting us, and the rise of the flood had
carried it out ; and falling into the strong
current of the neck, which set towards the
middle of the stream, it had followed us
all night. Ben looked wistfully ,at it, and
measured with his eye the distance to it.
The roof to which we clung was alter
nately sinking and swaying, and the .water
sucked and eddied ominously 'Afou'rid it.
'This old thing can't swim many min
utes longer," he said. Can you hold on
here alone, Bessy, while I swim out to
the skiff and bring it to you?" He did
not wait for me to reply, but lifted me to
the place where he had sat, and showed
me how to grasp the ; bare rafter," where
the boards had been strained off. When
he had done' this, he stopped, just as he
wasgoing to let himself into the water,
and looking at me with a tenders mourn
ful look that I can never forget no, not
jf I should live to be twice fourscore ha
said . -.-:
. You'll be safe in ten minutes I hopie;
may God speed me for your sake I Yet
if anything should happen to either of us,
that we shouldn't meet again in this world,
I must tell you now, Bes.y, that nobody
has loved vo as T - have that nobodv
loves you now as I do. Believe me dear,
for it is true.
: iff
."I know it, IJen--I know it !' I soWiedj,
and I put my, face up tobis. He benv
over and kissed ne,"with such a loko
mighty surprise arid oVer whelming joy a
dou't ;belie,ve any man ytjrfbad Leere ;
and crying out, -"Hold hardBi'Sfy-rlioLi
fast girl V". he jumped into the rjyer jvnd,
struck out for the 6kitF. , "' , iV."-
I did not tell liim when he Jeftihat my
rVands were fold,' almost iiumb'; and
held tight' to The Vaftef.'hdSvatdied" film
while "the Wm in Vy hands innd' arfiisval
destressing!-me"aorelyrc Psaw Turn" raeli
the pkiffj arxl balance himself, and" ltibor
rareflilly. over its side to get in withoai
everturning it ; aid when ha had accom
plished- this ny"sfre"ngtK"vaTImost.gooe.
My hands were giving,' slipoing Tzuade
one last spasmcoic euorl to retain my
hold, and shobted wildly to Ben. "1 heard
the splash of oars, and his" loud;4 cheer
voice encouraging me; darkness overtook
me as roy hands -slipped their ' grasp -Clutching
aL the. shingles,--1 'slid down
ward, down, but not to my watery grave.
The skiff shot past me..,.-Ben-Sample's
arm snatchod me from my peril, and 1 lay
safely in the bottom of the bo at while his
stout arms rowed me toward the shore.
"Look there," ' ho exclaimed, "and ' I
looked my "fast at the poor old Lou.e. The
roof heaved and settled, the waters wash
ed np over it, and it sank in a wild whirl
pool that sucked it down. ' --
"That was the last of our danger.'-'-AVte
.go: to the shore and found a.", house; and
before night we had a chance te take 4
schooner up the river.- In a day nr two
father came up with most of 'his' mern;
and such a meeting as we had! tho 'raft
had beerTcarried off by the flood, as Ben
thought, and two of the men had perished
by drowning. And when I had fold hi&i
the true story cf our night in the house
afloaft he "took Ben by'the jiaiid, wi(h
tears in his eyes,, and-beggU Li a pardon
fur thinking that anybody cop Id be better
than such a brave, noble fellow as he had
proved himself. ;- '
.."And especially that cowardly sneak,
Cardie,"- father added, with a savage slap
of his hand on his knees.. -"Plague., take
me ! what a fool I would be, sometimes,
if I had my own way.'.. 4 ,j
As for Jacob Cardlt, J never, heard a
syllable more of him, I never wanted to.
I am not 'sorry "that I met him, for ho
served to show me the difference between
Ben Sample "and the little creatures the
world of fashion4 and wealth calls men.
Well a day - It's many a long year
that I have lived as the happy .wife, of
that same Ben Sample, and its- not many
sinco God look him before tne. How
old are you, little Benny J Nine, indeed!
Then he died just nine years ago ; you
were named for him, boy, for you "were
born the morning that he died. He wa
your own grand-father, little Hen ; and I
can give you no better wish than you may
be as brave, as strong and as good a man
as was he. L'pphuotf s Mugazhte. t
The Newspapek A child beginning
to read becomes delighted with newspa
pers because he reads names which are
very familiar, and ho will progress accord
ingly. A uewepaper in one year is worth
a quarter's schooling to a child and every
father most consider that substantial infor
mation is connected with this advancement.
The mother of a family being one of tho
heads and having more immediate char" 3
of the children should herself be instructed.
A roindoccupied becomes fortified against
the ills of life, and is braced for any emer
gency. Children amused" by reading or
study are of course considerate and more
easily Governed. How many thoughtless
young men have spent their earnings in a
tavern or grog shop, who ought to have
been reading? How many parents who
never spent twenty dollars for books for
their families would gladly have give,n
thousands to reclaim a son or daughter
who had ignorantly or thoughtlessly fallen
into temptation. Ex.
A lady writer in the Chicago Journal
is severe upon cruelty to horses. She
says : "A thousand shames upon the
brute who would lash the terrified horse !
Go whip your wife you and fully capa
ble of it. Tt ll me a young man will make
a good husband if he will abue a dumb
beast ! I tell you I would rather marry
a Sepoy! Take my advice, ye o'oofl;
maidens contemplating matrimony never
marry a man who is impudeot ? to.tus
mother, snubs his sister,, helps himself to
the largest piece of cake, or Jakes the
under flapjack at table, or beats las Tiorsa
causelessly in sudden temper."
Oxk of the hours each day' wasted on
trifles or indolence, saved and daily devo
ted to improvement, is enough to make an
ignorant man wise in ten years to pro
vide the loxury of intelligence to a mind
torpid from laek of thought to brighten
up and strengthen-faculties perishing wilh
rust to -make life, a fruitful, field,-' ad
death a harvester of glorious deeds,
- ': 1
, ,,A ci.fcjBQYMAX, ' in a, recent sermon, Jn
NTcw Xpk, quoted an anecdote of an oJJ
merchant who instructed bis clerks ;-
VWbeo a man couaesjnto a t,ore and
talks of his" honesty "watch! bin ; tf bo
talks of hiswealth. donit't'ry" W".efl him ;
fif he talks of tis religion; don-rnigf liirrv
a dollar: " " '
is!;-.-- " ' . - -- ?
'PE contented- with-your lot eecUfU
. I u us on tne corner. .
'ir-r