' " ' "" " ' " ' """ "'. " ' 1 i
T l !
mm mm
A cP IKE, Editor and Publisher,
HE IS A FREEMAS "WHOM THE TRUTH MAKES FXKE, AND ALL ARE SLAVES BKSIDE.
Terms, por year, In advance.
.tri
t
-iv-l
T-.l-.iV
ncl"
IC
th
in t
(tf
nrxc
eir
Pti
et"1
Ml"
..Iff
0LU.MK VII.
EBENSBURG, PA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1S73.
NUMBER 47.
ft n 4
. I... n si. i ( i:-
!" . ... . . h it l! K thrv irive a finer u-lo
1 1 . . - . .
fir bc-Mei
i.,w tlislclix-.
bt-tter, because
ler if loss
tliun siny other polish.
KA.TI1-PS L.lXTlZltX.
i,nllirt"r silvery sheen with less than
toe uit'or re.iiuri.-J when other polishes ir
lyTTU'an bo used even in
1,1 vsu wm i ciniii iiiv
m
uii-at""
11 -illlX :'' "
IT Ji ll IJ
ill V-
fni ait nre or carpets,
ir,-,-,.;!',!,- sulphurous or strong: acid
prepared for use, but are pleasant
... :,;. n.-alst x I
. j form mi ruj
t i .- 1 1 s. '
'oilier polish.
In each box are 12
slicks: 1 stick is sufli
eicnt for any stove
thusallwasle issaved.
if polish in the ma rket, beoau3o
nr .:.-i-:'is w ill cover as much surface
vS:.' xv..i-l n of t iie old polishes.
CHIJMBS
i:-- ijK.ii ther.Tlin competition with
t i:." Ir.-:'!' several of the best of !
I ...!.. fcei-;ifiiJi the old stove polishes, i
W fs Tv -T T? P-jr
. i .. i . , i i . . m KiuiT of your storekeep-!,,-::
.:!!. ..i- v.ll procure them for you;
- i: i ii- in- '!"!!iir, J our name, ami the
! ; ..ir :i' ii i -t ('.x press station, and we
-. u i. ii li.iM's. mid samples of Hurt-:i4i-wittv'
i I 'earl Itltifintr, free of cost.
j ui,-.: i vin.ni can tie liad of all Whole
f t. ,! !'.! i ' - i I. i s in tile I'nited Stntcs,
.'4 ! .; - -.viii rind them the most pro
I li . :i !'.- ! i i that they are he fastc-t
I, jri. i' - K.nU in the market.
II. A. HA It TJj KTT CO.,
H i N.irt'i Kront St., Philadelphia.
kUK' ! - si.. , Kiv VoitK.
.v?.t:.sr;.. Uostox. Ul-H.-Smeoin.
ptect Your Buildings.
ica.v f- 'ii.i'f with less tliun quarter the
J u'-im. -.pene l.v the use of
OWTEM SLTE HOOFING PA1M.
-1
1
f: :
t -
It
1' r
1
t HI
u
!
4 r:
Tmth to tell, the comfortable, old-fash
ioned farm-house, at the foot of the nar
row and rocky ledge, had a most pictur
esque position. Away to the southward
J wound and smiled the fertile valley, a
j goodly portion of whose acres apper- !
taineu to Orandfather Crowuinshield, and
along the edge thereof swept the curves of I
the railway, after what seemed its birth
in the cloven ledge so very near to Katie 1
Crowninshield's home. As for Katie her
self, with her sweet, fresh face and her
merry brown eyes, the little valley and her
nestling home were all the world to her
all, indeed, that she had ever known, for
she had been but a wee thing when Grand
father and Grandmother Crowninshield
became father and mother to her, in place
of those whose faces she could now hardly
remember. Neither did it ever occur to
her that she was in any sense an heiress,
for she seemed rather to belong to the val
ley than the valley to her; while the idea,
if anything had brought it to her miud,
that her good old grandparents were not to
live forever, would have turned the blight- '
est June day to the gloomiest December. !
But, iu these latter years, one great en- '
tity had painfully struggled into Katie's
world, with an apparent mission to unite
the valley with that great unknown, which j
lay beyond the hills and ledges. Katie '
had seen the ragged rift cloven in the gran- ;
it wall, watching it curiously from door or
window, and listening for the dull reports
of the blasting charges, until tho barrier
was pierced and the railway crept out and '
found its way down through the valley ; '
and ever since the trains began to run, she j
had connected with them the idea of a life
that was almost human. She had waved
her handkerchief enthusiastically to the i
very first train, and had been liberally re- '
sponded toby passengers and conductor; 1
and, although she had been then a little 1
girl and was now a young lady, she had
never yet dreamed of any unmaidenly bold- !
ncss in giving the same white signal of
welcome, at times, when the great railway j
mystery came rushing out of the cloven '
walL There was one train in particular ',
which Katie's attentions were at last pret- ;
ty well restricted a through express, which :
went by at eight o'clock in the morning,
and there was another from the same di- '
rection again at eight o'clock at night.
From the former, just as easily as her own ;
dainty "good morning t" Uttered above 1
the garden gate, so certainly would there
be a fleeting Hash of white to answer her
from the platform of one of the cars or j
even from the engine itself, for that, too, 1
had happened. And Katie knew very well
that, in theFc latter 'days, at least, her an- j
s cr had always come from the same hand. '
A tall, erect, manly fellow he was, dressed ;
i.i d.nk blue cloth; and Katie had been 1
veil aware, for a good while, that he was
the conductor of the train, but she had ,
never yet been near enough to speak to
him, or get any clearer notion of his face
a: d its meaning than might be given her
in those swift but almost daily glimpses. :
When or how lie found his way back to the '
beginning of his perpetual journey, was a
question that Katie never asked even of,
herself. It was enough that every morn- !
ing tho swift train brought him out of the
unknown country beyond the hills, and !
: added a something that had grown to be '
1 very pleasant to the peace and quiet of her
t t,a; !
J rl here was something very noteworthy, j
t even to railway men, about the manner in
j which tho road broke iu upon the valley, j
I A deep cut, a sharp curve, and & heavy 1
J elown-grade, combined to make the precise ;
point where the conductor had learned to
j look for Katie's greeting an interesting
. 1 1. 1 , , r
ii. to nnv address, in n r,iin 1MI BI1U Kercinei may even :
' ''iln'""1' rccei,)t of 'x c-'nis, of j have seemed to wave a species of congrat
ulation at his repeated safe passage of
what might at any time have shapeel itself
into a dancer.
I
: :. i. : covered with a very cheap shin
' .iM.ileath n of lliis Slate lie mad
! : - - o .'.J wars. Old roots can he patched
1 made to look much licttpr and last
i -... in-v shiiixr'.i s without the slate, for ;
'--..-t of re-siiiiii;-!ini. j
. s'.atiiej: ih-w shingles is only about the
': !! laymir thein, and the siuto is fire- i
-i -parks and lixe coals hilling upon it,
asiiy teste i by any one, and as appears
" !'! that iiiMirance companies make tho ;
! that th y do tor slated roofs. I
fj-t iron it has no equal, as it expands by j
m:rac;s by cold, an 1 i.cvtr cracks or i
K-.r IV'.iiftery l.n.-es it is particularly I
1 lie Slate or Taint is l.XT ii KM V i
Two gallons willci.ycr a hundred s.piare !
.ingle root, or over lour l.niiure.i oC, tin or i
ice of the Slate rcudv for use is so cents 1
m. 410 per barrel, or U0 per barrel ol about i
ns. fre.aht Irom Nexv York added. Vn '
s-h and apply the material tor iif0 per liJ '
o l.-e,, ireilHL ll.l.icil. I
- Faint has a vers heavy body, but Is easily I
4 iTiti, :l i or 0 inch coloring brush. On old i
'n sliiuyos it fi'ls u;i the bo!, s and jmns,
them, and irv-s u n. v mi l subst;in ial
! last for y. :-.is. tin eu.-l-od vr warpfd .
n- il o;u. oii i i ;o oicir Piacv ami k
it iia
It u'.'.s '.he holes ill till or fcltiri''
. J . t he lea ; uno coat i. equal to ten
pan. i. Tin? color of the Slate when
i oi" a dark ( urple-; in about, a n.oiith
.a Irfii uieionu ialo r.ii.jr, an I is, io
:: i j lire. is f. siatc. It is a sloxv drver,
: u ; nrieoi .: in the least ouo hcur aVtt r
my pn;-t of the i
1 1 or-terc I to he s nt
'.npatiy I he order.
ii x .:,!! i ,-. Ad.
ll.sridMi. ?liddi.
l'l v 1T rs.
irx-lxrh't tho
i 1-
-I.i i'
r the
,r(ss
own,
Va., or
1 l . i . ( t. 1 1 tint in s on. I 'a.
In. I..i;ie.1srer. lti.ini.;i, liunt
K.'a.r. slid t'atnt.ria counties.
. of .lohns'own. has the ex.;!u
s.iIb o! the alxjvi? ;-.i Cambria
oun- 3 ion,
.Hid Si-dh-i tlmcl'ipc. I' ue (j ct.t. ;
n the ua t ure, treat nient and rad- I
i i.i .inn lueu in- Seniitinl Weak- j
' u lOli.isvions. Se x ti.xl Ileliiliti
o r: n;s to .Vai rlacre ten rally ; Ne'r-
"ii-i' inption, I-'.; i!-psy and I- i ts ; j
' ' I'll -. -:r.i i 1 neapaettx-, r s.ilt in 3- f roni
--::y ii(!ii"i',i.('i;i.vn:wi:!,L
" '. i.-.-n ll.ink,"c 1
T ri ii oyned author. In this nilmirn- '
J. ! 1 .o'.y proves from Lis aim -.,- 1
- 'i' th" 11 v 1 ut eonse. luetic s of Self- 1
.v 1 ... , l'.i-etiiHlly removed without
"an 1 u iiriout dangerous su rjrica I op- !
. ' ! . instruments, rinfrs or cor- j
i .'" '' ' rt "'odo of rure at once cer- '
"" et. mi. i,v which every sutferer, no 1
" lit his condition mav be. inav euro
;.' Jt-ix . pi n niel v and radieallv. This :
f. I I.I. I'Ul IV I-" A IlllOV 'l-O TIIOl-
'' l Mi M U.S.
Vn r.itxvF.r.l.s "Marriage Guide."
I'lihlishrs.
... I .1. ;. KMXES CO..
"7. '-n ork; I'ost-OfTice liux 45S. 1
;.T!;ATOK'S NOTICE. Let- !
: Ad:ii':iii.stratioii 011 the Estate of
'" mi n xi:, late of Kbcnsburrf !
' ; ' 1 .1 i-.i.Mity. dee'd. having been ,'
. en h rsi-nod by t he Itcsrister of
.i p. -is., n indehted to said estate ;
-j. -' "'.'l,s' i'nmodiate payment to '.
i,,,' ' :''' r "r -Vrtmihistrator, !
' - ' li'ns dif.iinst the same will "
1 . 1 Tiv iiiitiionticated for svt
t WILLIAM MAK1X,
Administrator.
KJv-"t (JET E.KVAXS,
h.
:''-i t,
'e-l,;,.
'!'! of Atlmiuistratiou 011
;' -hi K. Kvaxs, laic of aia
on'.fin county, deceased, hare
tindersiirned, to wIiohi all
1 ''' --"i'l estate are requested
'oel those bavin? claims or
'-' nl t li. sa me. n-if lumt At A . v
ci.t - " fc J
"''H.N i i v eltleineiit.
v. ; 1 -luiuiuiairnior.
I p:
T-...
;1 t-
in-:
NOTICE.
x'Vll J. K. KKN-liOIXK. dee'd.
t the ri-me of .Martin
" . xiv-heiiv township, tatn.
..'"IVilK been u-ranied to the
i. -ii -ter of i-aid euuntv, all
"' el to make imtne'dlate
; ' ix nir clainis against the
' i V", a"'lieutic!ited lortet
" I I.I-l AM J. 151 HK,
K.xeeutor.
4
l'leV
-All
I" !s')us are herebv
'. 1. 1 rT' ri"c In anv wav
J.- V"" rtv Iniuiht b'v
and l.-tt v,i , ivter l'A,i. .If
,.lH)'""s my pleasure, Kitld of
" 't II, Vrr(nil Wl,eat
.iir. in ,.i..u.u , 1.-......... 1
n 111:1 re
Ac
1 1
lie..
ICK
'!"o,,
an.! coll. 3 vows.
.J'!t (. TlitXKli
TIOX.
"i-.-..i,,i-.. exist inu between
'" -d in the practice of
"" Hi" aith l.liii,,.,, ,v nm.
y i' r 1 i.i N't: y,
J AMI S Xl'LU
Ue that as it may, the railway "cut" had
brought to Katie Crowninshield, among
other results, a shorter and easier path to
the homo of her aunt, her mother's sister,
who lived just a little way beyond the
ledge, and who was never satisfied if too
many days passed by without bringing the
i sunlight of Katie's face across her thresh
j old. And bo Katie had gone and returned,
j many and many a time, by the narrow
i path between the grauite walls. Nobody
, in that eaceful region dreamed of fear at
being "out after dark," and again and
again had good Eetsy detained her pet
until night had fallen, although her only :
companion homeward was her little star of
a lantern. There cama a day when Katie's
handkerchief Muttered in vain, and then
another, when even the reply she received
from the train convinced her that there
had been a change of some kind, and that
she would receive no more signals from
the same hand. And so she sadly pre
pared to give it up, in the first fit of gen
uine blues she had ever indulged iu, but, a
few evenings afterward, she lingered at
the garden gate a little after her return
from Aunt Hetsy's, to see the lightning ex
press go flashing by. It was a grand sight
when it came, incomparably more interest
ing and mysterious in the darkness than
ever in the day, and Katie wondered she
had never thought so before ; but sho al
most unconsciously raised her little lantern
and swung it around her head, as the had
used to wave her handkerchief.
Could she believe her eyes?
She almost refused to cive them anv t
4lit!, nl X A. 41 . " . . '
on nisi, uul men mere ioiiowea a ;
quick flush in her cheek aud a warm glow
at her heart ; for she was sure there had
been an answering light, and she could al
most picture a tall form in dark-blue cloth
ing, standing on the platform between the
two cars.
Aud now, while the October days grow
cooler, and the glorious evenings longer,
Grandmother Crowninshield began to
grumble a little at the disposition her dar
ling evinced to pay so many visits to Aunt
Eetsy.
"It's a long walk for you, child," she
said, "and it's through the cut, too.
"What if a railway train should come aloncr
before you get out."
"O, grandmama, that'll never happen,"
laughed Katie ; "the railroad and I are
very good friends."
"You ought to be," said grandmother.
"I never saw any living being care more
for a dumb thing than you've always done
for that there train."
Unt grandmother was nearer right than
Katie ; for only a ni;ht or so after that
it must have been that Aunt Betsy's clock
was slow for Katie w as in the very mid
dle of the cut w hen her ears were suddenly
filled with the shiiek and roar with which
the train dashed in at the upper end.
Her heart beat quickly for a moment,
but not w ith fear ; for, as she sprang light
ly upon a projecting rock that she had
often before noted as a very available
perch, she gathered her fluttering dress
more closely about her and exclaimed :
"There, I'm safe enough ; but to think
of it's coming so near !"
Near euough, indeed, and Katie leaned
back, hard against tho crag behind her ;
for it seemed as if 'sho could feel the breath
of the iron monster on her cheek. In one
hand she clutched more tightly the folds
of her shawl, and in the other she raised
the lantern, as if its feeble star could be of
some protection, and then her grasp of it
grew suddenly very tight, intleed : for
loaning out a little fiom the platform of a
car, and looking forward, as if impatient
for the train to clear the cut, stood a tall,
handsome, bearded man, in dark-blue
clothes, with a lautern in his hand, and
his eager, watching, expectant face came
so very close to her own !
It was like a flash of lightning ; but
Katie knew the face, and she knew also
that she herself had been seen, and she
had even marked the swift paling of the
bronzed visage as it recognized her and
then swept on in the darkness beyond.
"lie was afraid I would be hurt," she
thought ; and then she said aloud : "IJut
he must have seen how safe I was up here
on the rock. I don't believe he swung his
lanteru at our gardeu-gate to-night."
Aunt Betsy's house was some little dis
tance from the upper entrance, - aud the
approach to the latter was gloomy enough,
tho next night of her visit, even for one
who knew every inch of the way as well as
Katie did ; but her little lantern shone out
cheerily against its bright reflector, throw
ing its radiance ahead, as if it were trying
to tell her : "There, dear, that's it ; don't
be afraid, now, I'll show j-ou the track !"
She had not gone far, however, before the
grauite- walls brought to her cars, all the
way from the lower end aud round the
curve, as if the cut had been a speaking
tube, the sound of voices that wcro evi
dently meant to be low aud guarded. There
were other sounds mingled w ith the voices,
and Katie could not make out more than a
word or so here aud there, but there was
something abtmt it all that startled and
frightened her. At first she was half-inclined
to turn and make the best of
her way back to Aunt Betsy's ; but that
seemed foolish, and Katie was really a
courageous little soul. She hid her Ian-
tprn nnilir liircli,wl n...l i a
.... . . . L " . , iivnuiei, aiiU bltpptu 4VI ws.s... ' ry
very lightly and swiftly forward, trying to gloomily above him
1 :f .1 . , . . 1 . 1 r . 1 11 .- .Vi. .1
icumiiiuer u mere was not a rock or hol
low where she would be as safe from men
as she had been from the passing train.
She was very nearly through herself, be
fore she could any way make out what it
all meant ; but, as she paused in the deep i
shadows of tho rocks and peered timidly
out toward tho now dull and muffled
sounds, with which the voices were no
longer mingled, a broad quick gleam, as
from a lantern suddenly shaded or extin
guished, shot across the track not many
yards below, and then all was darkness
and silence.
But that one moment of illumination had
revealed extraordinary things to the keen,
excited vision of Katie Crowninshield.
There were men, three or four, she could
not say just how many, but rough, fierce,
wild, and anxious-looking, and before them
on the railway track, from which the rails
had been pried away just there, was a con
fused heap of heavy granite boulders and
fragments. Katie understood it as clever
ly as if those men had taken her into their
confidence, and had told her in words.
It was a plot to wreck the train !
And now she was in the open air, be
yond the upper entrance, and she could see
the peaceful light still shining from Aunt
Betsy's window. But there was uo time
to go there for help.
There's nothing but my owu little lan
tern," almost sobbed poor Katie. "May
be he will know it when he sees it ; but he
must be warned before he reaches the cut."
' The lantern shown like a frosty little
star determined to be seen, as Katie sprang
forward up the track. She had not far to
go, for the train was ahead of time that
night, instead of being behind as would
have been more desirable under the cir
cumstances. Never had anything appeared
to Katie Crowninshield more suddenly
than did the great, glaring eyes of the lo
comotive headlight, that now glowed upon
her out of the overshadowing night, and
her lantern seemed to have instantaneous
ly vanished.
"It is so small," she cried, iu agony,
"and he wi'.l r.ever see it."
Nevertheless, on a low mound of earth
and stones, close to the side of the track,
Katie took her post of charity and danger,
and swung her little lantern frantically to
and fro, while sho tried to make her sweet j
girl s voice heard through the roar and
clamor of the rushing train.
On came the railway giant, tugging with
him his precious freight of human life, and
it Hashed upon Katie Crowninshield's miud
what an awful capacity for suffering that
train might have on board. On, with the
great glare and the all-absorbing torrent of
sound, and almost before Katie knew it,
the object of her hope and fear had dashed
ruthlessly past her, and was quickly swal
lowed up from her sight in the rocky jaws
of the deep cut. "With a cry of grief and
disappointment on her lips, and a strange
thrill of pain at her heart, the poor girl
sank upon the ground and buried her face
in her hands, while the little li.-iteru drop
ped neglectedly beside her.
Only for one brief instant, however, did
Katie yield to the terror and the trouble
of it, for in another she had picked up her
starry friend, sprang to her feet, and dart
ed away down the railroad track toward
the cut. She waslight oT foot as any fawn,
and there were sad wings to her speed, but
it seemed to her as if she would never get
through the cut. She paused a moment,
w hen she reached the lower end, to gather
breath and to brush tho salt mist from her
eyes before she looked upon the awful scene
she knew must be prepared for her.
And then why, there was the train,
the rear car rising close in front of her,
while the others (and theie were but few
of them that night) stood all erect upon
their wheels beyond not all upon the track,
to be sure, but all apparently safe all, ex
cept one great, dark mass, whoso polished
metal gilttered in the varying lights that
flashed upon it, and whose hoarse throat
screanmed angrily with the escaping steam,
for the locomotive had come to grief pretty
decidedly among the granite boulders that
were heaped on the track by the fiends
who had planned the witck. The passen
gers were swarming out of the cars, and
none of them seemed to be hurt at all, nor
did Katie hear a sound that told of pain as
sho swiftly threaded her way among and
past them. She had caught a glimpse of
a group away beyond even the shattered
locomotive, however, which forbade her
lingering for an instant. Bight down to
ward her own gartlen gate four men were
carrying a heavy burden, and others were
following, and Katie heard them say, as
she darted by :
"Who is it ?"
"Why, its the conductor. lie was
thrown from tho platform of tho forward
car."
"Is he killed?"
"They say so. Nobody else was hurt,
lie was a splendid fellow."
A tall, handsome, beatded man. in dark
blue clothing, but his face was ghastly pale i
tber bi ill liim on flro n1 fu t hnr f 'i-rkv,- !
inshield's owu bed, and the surgeon, who
had been among the passengers, bent
"Head all right," muttered tho man of
science. "Only a cut or so. Ah, there's
a rib, two of 'em, and his arm below the
elbow. Struck the ground so, that's clear,
aud the other bones are likely to be all
right. Must have been leaning out to look
ahead, I should say. Hallo, what's that
light on his face ?"
The light in the room, what wiLh the
crowd and the country candles, hid been
none of the brightest, but just at this mo
ment a clear, golden gleam was poured
down on the face of the injured man, antl
slowly, as if the radiance itself had awak
ened liim, he opened his eyes and looked
dreamily about him.
The surgeon heard a sijrh that was half
a sob close behind him, and looked up to !
see that the sudden light came from Katie's
lantern, but just then th3 questioning
eyes of the wounded conductor fell upon
her face, aud he exclaimed faintly but earn
estly :
"I knew it was you. There was hardly
room to stop the train in, but w e'd have all
gone to pieces if it hadn't been for you and
jour ligut. You've saveel them all."
And so Katie Crowninshield suddenly
found herself a heroine, with a swarm of
grateful people about her, very much to her
discomfort. They would have made her a
present if she w ould have allowed them. but
the only really welcome worus sue ncarci
Of course, no time was lost in renairin"-
the track and in forwarding the passen
gers, and a few hours after saw the old
farm-house as quiet and peaceful looking
as ever. Even the surgeon had done his
work and gone. The engine lay battered
and helpless among the boulders where it
had forced its wilful way. The conductor
lay still on Grandfather Crowninshield's
bed, aud the fitful slumbers the surgeon's
opiate gave were starry with signals that
white Ringers held up before his dreaming
eyes. As for Katie aud her lantern, the
latter had fairly burned itself out and
asleep on the litllo table in Flatie's own
room, and sho herself had by no means
clearly comprehended, as yet, the happy
consequences of her railway signaling. It
was very much like a dream to her, for
Katie was no prophetess, nor could even
the lantern throw any light upon the fu
ture. Sho could not see, just then, and
yet the days that followed brought it all to
pass, that neither she herself nor grand
father and grandmother Crowninshield
would consent to any more, railroading or
signaling. It was much better, indeed,
they declined, nor did he himself pretend
to deny it, that Katie's husband should
farm broad acies of the fertile valley than
that he should any more be at the mercy
of train-wreckers and w ayside-lanterns.
And when the question was decided to her
liking, such a hug and kiss was that w hich
Katie Crowninshield gave.
"To whom ?"
"Why, to her lantern, of course."
1 M03IEXT OF SVSVEXSK.
11V IIAl HAZARD.
"Do not sit up for me, Mary. It will be
well toward morning before I can possibly
1 lie tram liiutit ue o ici v iirai ; 1 me oioj i..-.-
Katie did for a moment think of kindling: ', from any one were those of the surgeon
o'lo iol.tVne on the track. Dut that would 1 "What, killed ? A man like him ? Non
o
take too loti". and the "Treat ruin and hor
ror would come before even a small fagot '
would be well ablaze.
sense ! He'll carry his arm iu a sling for
a month or so, but he'll be up again in a
fortnight.'
"But why travel in the night, John? If
you cannot reach home until late, why not
wait for daylight?"
"I expect to meet a party from the Cross
Roads the first thing in the morning, and
their case requires immediate attention.
Here,' Johnny, my boy, papa's going," aud
as a little curly-headed fellow, who was
tumbling over and over in the grass in high
glee, jumped up and ran to him, he took
him up in his arms and kissed him. with
a father's pride in his first born.
"Me too ! Me too !" cried a couple of
ringing voices. Seeing their brother ca
ressed, Nell and Sue had dropped, the one
her rag doll, the other her pet kitten, and
now stood at their father's knees, urgently
demanding their share of attention.
The father stooped down and clasped his
children in a common embrace, while the
mother looked on with a happy smile to
see their little arms go round his neck in
eager hugs of fondness a"Ud their tender
lips and face pressed lovingly to his beard
ed cheek. It was over at last, aud the
happy father stood erect.
"I must go, my dear," he said. "Good
bye ! Take care of the children."
And with that he was gone, radiant,
happy, and with no foreshadowing of evil.
John Best was a justice of the peace in
the towm-hip where he lived, and his judi
cial elutics frequently took him from home.
So, although their cabin was situated iu
the depths of the forest and at a tlistance
from any other habitation, his little family
went about their usual pursuits without
feeling particularly lonesome iu his abseuce.
As the morning advanced, the noise of a
vehicle jolting over the rough road, accom
panied by a voice drawling out a song in
that peculiar cadence which characterizes
the melodies of the Emerald Isle, broke in
upon the quiet of their little world. It
proved to le a rickety old cart drawn by a
cow in quaint rope harness. The animal
was drivcti, or rather was sulftred to go at
her owu gait, by a gray-haired ekl man,
who tire w feebly at the stump of a clay pipe
which he held between his straggling yel
low teeth, occasionally removing it tirgive
utterance to the refrain of a song which
probably carried him back in imagination
to his younger tlays in his home far over
the sea.
The cart catno to a stand stiil befeue the
door, very much as a matter of course, for
the old cow was accustomed to stop at
every house she came to.
"A neighborly greeting to you, Mr. Mc
Carty !" called out the housewife from the
doorwaj.
' The thop o' the mor-rniug to yez, Mis
tiness Best I" returned the old man, heart
ily. "It's a foino day we're haviu', this
same."
"It is, indeed. Aud if that's w hat brings
you this way I hope wc may have many of
them."
"It's to mill I'm going, for we must have
bread for the babies, Misthress Best. The
dame told me that the male was getting
low, so I hove in the ghrist and hitched up
old Betty, thinking belike we'd not have
bo fair a day ag'in in a hurry."
"But you're not going by without hav
ing a neighborly chat and a mug of beer,
are you? You've made a great stranger
of youi self lately, and must come in and
tell me all about Mis. McCarty and Jamie.
I haven't heard how the little fellow is get
ting on with that cruel cut."
"lie's doing bravely. He shows himself
a McCarty," replied the old man, proudly;
aud continued: "But I'll come in as yc bid
me. Sure, it wouldn't be neighborly to
refuse a tlhrop from friend like ye-( Mis
tiness Best. Au' if the truth must be lull,
it 'ud bo haird for an oukl man like 11 ct.iif
to stand ag'in the temptation o' that samo
ilegant brewing you're so noted for."
Inileed the old man's mouth had been
watering for this very invitr.tior., v. hich ;
never failed to be extended ; and he de
scended from the cart with surpi i-ing alac-
YVith a mighty effort she struggled th 10'
the spell that bound her, and set upright
in Led. Ifor heart was palpitating wildly,
a clammy sweat stood in beads of ice oti
her skin, ami he shook from head to foot,
as with an aprue.
The candle was out aud evervthinc
rity for one so old, and addiessed himself i wraj t ed in darkness. The flatipinof tho
A- A. - I
to Lie goou cheer set before him 1 y his
hospitable hostess.
The domestic concerns of the two fami
lies were soon exhausted, and then the con
versation turned upon tepics of a more gen
eral natme.
"They do say," declared the old man,
between the whiffs of his pipe, whu.li had
succeeded Mrs. Best's beer, '-they do say
as them bloody hathens of Injuns be up to
the ould antics, oil' to westward. AU the
Juniata folks are drove cUue out o' house
and home intirely!"
"O, Mr. McCarty! It's dreadful, isn't
it?" exclaimed Mrs. Best, with a woman's
ready sympathy.
"An' faith it's that same, the bloody
spalpeens! Sure, we'll never get shut o'
them, at all, at all, without muidthering
every mother's son o' thein !" replied the
old man, with singular complacency, con
sidering tho sanguinary character of the
proposed remedy
"And then they are so near. But sure
ly you don't think there can be any danger
to us."
And Mrs. Best, hor mother's heart quick
to take the alarm, involuntarily put her
arm about little Sue, as if to protect her
from threatening danger.
"Now, uill ye be aisy ?" exclaimed tho
old man. "An' who said as the mui dther
ing de'ils 'ud be prowling around Jiere?
Bad cess to the likes o' them! it's a warm
welcome they'd be getting in these parts,
I'm a-thinkin'!"
"You imisn'i think me over-fearful, Mr.
McCarty, but I'm a woman all aloue, now
John's away."
"He's a thruant lad, iver away from the
house, that samo John," observed Mr. Mc
Carty. "Oh! but he makes up for it when he is
at home," rejoined the wife, eager in the
defence of her husband. "There's not a
better husband or father "
"Surely! surely!" interrupted the edd
man, in a conciliatory tone. "It's not
gaiusayin' that he's the best b'y in tho
country I'd be doiu' as knows there ain't
him as '11 pull au even yoke wid l.im for
many a good mile round be it a fisticuff
or a shindy!"
Mrs. Best took no exception to this some
what equivocal enconium, considering the
good intentions of the spt-aker; aud the old
man, having first replenished and lighted
his pijie, aiose to go.
After the departure of her old friend,
Mrs. Best did not sing about her work so
cheetfully as she had done before. There
was a feverish nervoususss perceptible in
her manner; and she kept her eye on the
children, making them stay just about the
tloor.
Dinner time came aud passed; and iu
the middle of the afternoon it was with a
feeling of great relief that she heaid the
returning cart. It didn't take a second
bidding to induce Mr. McCarty to again
enter and do honor to her brewing. And
now she kept him, by one device and an
other, as long as possible, and felt more
lonesome than ever after he was gone. She
could not rid her mind of the gloomy fore
boding of coming danger. She assured
herself again and again that her fears weie
groundless, but all to no purpose.
An the sun went down the stood in the
door and looked wistfullvtoward the bridge.
"I wish Johu was at. home!" she said,
almost ready to cry. Then she roused her
self, called the littlo ones iu, and cloted
the door.
After their frugal supper, the children
were soon put to bed, but the mother tat '
up, trying to overcome her restlessness !
with fatigue. Then, at an hour that was 1
quite late for one of pastoral habits, she
tolled up her work and began to pioparc
for bed. !
t
"It is cheerful fe.r John, and he always '
expects it when he is coining home at
night," fche said to herself as she placed a
lighted candle in the window, first having
to pin a cloth across the sash, where John- ;
ny's ball had knocked out a pane of glass.
Then she undressed and laid herself beside '.
cloth which she had pinned ever the wiu
dow explained the extinction of the light,
and also the cold breath of the phantom
that had haunted her dreams the wiud
had forced the pin from its hold.
She smiled at her fears, and was aboin
to get up and relight tile candle, that her
late returning husband might not miss the
cheerful beaco:-., when she was suddenly
thrilled by a sound from without. It was
only the snapping of a dry twig, but in the
present state of her nerves it was enough
to fill her with alarm.
She sat perfectly still and listened, but
; the minutes dragged slowly on without a
repetition of tho sound. She shivered
j with cold and ached with the continued
j tension of her muscles. Still sho could
j not prevail upon, herself to move ; sheeouhl
j not persuada herself that it was ihU a foot
; that had caused the breaking of tho twi.
) Only hor eyes were free, and they roved
about the room incessantly. Suddenly
, they became fixed, the saw something
: move. It was slowly coming iu to view
j above the sill of the w iudovv. It was round
', like the head of a man !
j All power of motion was now gone,
i She was frozen with terror. She sat bolt
I upright and stared at the dreadful speeta
: cle. Slowly, inch by inch, it rose. Fear
and darkness prevented her from noticing
i anything save that it was round that it
: was a head ! Higher higher until from
( its conformation she judged that the eyes
j were above the sill, and then stopped.
Her excited fancy pictured horrible glariug
eyes eyes so fierce, so flaming, that they
would almost seem to burn and bear all
that they rented upon.
Just then little Sue awoke, and as she
strained her eyes through the gloom, said
in a voice hushed by childish affright :
"Mamma !"
Her moving aroused the other children,
anil seeing their mother so still, they set
up a plaintive wail of terror.
"IIuh ! my poor babes !" cried the ag
onized mother, clasping the little ones to
her brea bt.
The next moment she started and looked
alKiut in amazement. The causo of her
emotion was a deep, fervent "Thank God!"
Iu an instant the was out of bed, aud her
trembling fiugers were busy with the fast,
euing of the door. 1 he next she fell al
most fainting into the arms of her husband;
autl the greeting of the parents, and th
voices of the little girls, who kept cooing
softly "Fapa ! papa !" were drowned in.
the lusty cheer of master Johnny.
A hasty explanation disclosed the fact
thai Mr. Best had heard of the Indian
raid, and hasteued home to Situ the light,
which always awaited his return, no long
er burning. Feeling that hi worst fears
for his family were realized, aud apprehen
sive that tho undisturbed Appearance of
the house was but a snare to entrap him,
ho crept cautiously forward to reconnoitre,
when ho heard the voices of his childieu
aud knew that all was well.
j NEWsi'Ai'Eits. Their value is by no
; means appreciated, but tho rapidity with
which pecple are waking up to their n
cessity and usefulness is one of the stgiriri
j cant signs of the times. Few families
j are now content with one newspaper. The
thirst for knowledge is not easily satisfied.
' and books, though useful, yea, absolutely
: necessary in their place, fail to meet the
demands of youth or age. Our couutiy
I newspaper is eagerly sought and its con
j tents as eagerly devoured ; then comes the
J demand for the t:ity news, national aud
! foreign new s. Next to the political coma
the literary and scientific journal. All
these are demanded to satisfy the cravings
of the active mind.
Newspapers ate also valuable to mate
rial preisperity. They advertise the village,
county and locality. They spread befoi
tho reader a map on which may be traced
character, design and progress. If a
stranger calls at a hotel he first inquire
for the village uuwspaper ; if a friend
c imes from a distance the very next thing
aitcr family greetings, he in. pain s for v our
village or county newspaper, and you feel
discomforted if you are unable to find
late copy, and confounded if you aie com
pelled to say you do not take it.
Newspapers arc just as necessary to fit
or raiment. Mrw us a ragged, liaruioot
ed boy rather than an ignorant one. His
head will cover his feet in after life if ho
is well supplied with newspapers. Show
us the child who is eager for newspapers,
lie will make his mark in the work! if you
giatify that desire for knowledge. Other
things lieing equal it is a rule that never
fails. Give your children newspapers.
her sleeping-children, but not before sho a man for his true position iu life as food
had offered up an earnest prayer for their
preservation through the night aud tho
safe return of her husband.
It was long before she fell asleep, and
then her rest was troubled ; but at last
overtaxed nature yielded, aud there suc
ceeded some hours of dreamless repose.
Tl len her mind began to work again. At
first it was merely a sense of depression.
Then it seemed as if some undefined-danger
were impending over her little one.
It was as if a groat cloud had cast its chill
ing shadow over her. Finally the atmos
phere began to clear, and the dread spec
tre took the form of something a man or
animal creeping stealthily toward lie-r.
She essayed to start up terror paralyzed
her limits ! She tried to cry out her
tongue clove to the roof of her mouth !
And'sti'.l tho danger approached nearer,
nearer until she felt its breath on her
cheek. But whatever it was; it could not
be human ; for its breath was like ieej and
seemed to fieezv the very mrtrrovr iu her
boacs
A Bov's Composition. An editor ii a
man who lives on what othsr people owo
him until he ftarves to death. A sub
scriber is one who takes a paper and says
i he is well pleased w ith it, and he tells
l everybody else "he ought to Subscribe."
i After he has subscritjeu abmit seven years,
1 he editor writes to hint and asks him to
J let him have $i.o ) (two dollars and lifty
i-onbi, and the subscriber writes back t
, the editor and tells him not to scrd hi.i oicl
paper any more, for there is nothing in, it,
ar.d then the poor editor goes and staivcs
himself to death, sorae mure.
A BABY was born on a street raUwayr esp
in St. Louis. If it's a boy it ought to ba
christened H'osear. A". 1'. Wu-td. But,
ns it's a girl, the mother has determined
to ur.me it Cti.-'hue. CVkz-h - .!,
.A
ir