I I ' " """" lllll MlMlMMMaiJUtti 'IWJIMIJWUMIIIIIIA
If! . ill lif ll ll ra I! If-iii ll sc r Vlll fM
- I B
' wcPlKE, Editor and Pu
blisher.
"HB IS A TBEIMAH WHOM THB TRXjTH MAKES TUBE, AND ALL ARB SLAVES BESIDE."
Terms, S2 per year, In advance.
VIII.
EBENSBURG, PA., FRIDAY, MAY 1, 1874.
NUMBER 15.
T
kin
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die ,
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vi'iace
ch-tfei
f't'irtat
iK'hto
nTEMKNT of SrJTrijEAIENT
S ,y, p V, jinYEK one oi ine cnperTi-
V ." V,
Tnwnfhlp. for the year 1873: f
.:uT" '; ,' .lr..n .. 79.L23
1'uivnship at last
80.36 I
MS.M
en.
,.rt (f w.irk a? pr books. .
ii' r"' '' '" '1-,,i"1'-"s'0,iers-
lJ:T":i"."lN.nfi!M'c (eiute)!
J'.r U. .I-liii Kelly. ..
, Tlioi. ltnahoe.
;J Jul.n Kelly. . .
)vut Hrownm.
8, T in. !MoCi(;u?h.
1 'in 1 ip Warner..
. lvriT Urown. ..
i. N i.iiiolaK Helif..
. Mr. A. Murphy
) J. '. Kdlnue
li l'lu!. Uvnalioe.
7M.n
27.70
10. V0
27.80
1.50
4.00
l.W
6.2J
4.50
8.00
8.00
6.S5
6.10
1.50
1.50
15.00
14.09
18.75
10.00
62 1,04S,27
'. 1. Skclly. . . .
II Wallers1 Pocket.
H H. .'Murtln
II. II. Marlln
Ja:uei Skelly
jj.eue T. JJ. Mover U9.81
M un l. r?!i?ned Auditor, do certify that
",v i a currcct statemt-nt of settlement with
jl. ver.
J. P. O N KILL.. 1
J AMKS NOON, J
JOS. LNC1I, )
Auditors.
TF.MFNT OF SF.TTLEMEXT with Ml-
iiK.MM.Kr, uuu oi me supervisors or
.Bhai.i.kv, la ace't with Washington Twp.,
Da.
an! i f Implicate $1,859.47
Jk.
i.m Roails, as per acc't..$f jS.SS
iTJluci ... 10.05
:j work at 91.50 per day 165.00
..t. (Jeo. M. Head (Sept.
S.00
::.No. 19, J. II. Kennedy.. l.5t
James Noon ..
J ainea Noon . .
" 5, .lames Noon ...
3, M. Uraolley
nt JoIidhIou At ScAnlan
8.'
1.
l.uO
2.50
S9.02
42.50
134.79
4.75
9.00
1.50
4.54
17.71
8.00
6.50
ii:e J. Jlctfonigle,) . . .
.:.. uu. uo,
No. 7, Christ. Robine. . .
i. 11. A. Alppike....
7, James Noon
V. M. 4t J. Brown . . ."
N LMn
4. .M . Kra llcy
.! !.ii-:on 4s. Scunlan.
N . n 4i lironn's.OrJer
j- i:r;vtley
i
Errata
X nils
Id.'
7.55-:l,43:.S8
7I.S9
r')?nel Andltors. do certify that
i i-rei't statement ofeettlemem with
J. I'. O N F.ILL, )
J A M KS NOON. Auditors.
JOS. LYNCH,
liihient:
iVe fcavej
ted eon-1
ht, the-
L!' "ii the Heirs aud I.etral Re
rsof Cbkistia W SMAY.'.late
i-ri.:.! t w:lnp. dee d, to aocept or refuEe.
vrv K for
iriH Con ii ty. fcN :
Tie ("': -mioiiweftlth of Pennsylvania to
I 5"i: .-.v v and Nicholas Sua v. Heirs
il! !- z.:: K i rcsentatives of CuRrsTiA
Mm aitihlll township, deceased,
L'ii Vi &
to iV
c'.vis'il:
i f
.hu .r.
:idi;i i
e. M.
U'lv I
,1. Gr,
' T i ii are hereby cited to be and
.fii'iires of our Orphan Coort,
n.-'.Hrit. in and for faid county,
ri- M.'Mv op JrE 11 ext. then and
'. if: p: . t r f;i? to take the real estate of
:r i?. S -in. ileeenseil, at the appraised
. . : ;u. u; "ii u by an Inquest duly awarded
.m n -.rt. i.n.l returned bv the'Sherifl ol
&.as'. n '.!.. l h day of Ausrust, A. I). 173,
i-nis-tv th- SHine should not be sold, to
A H'A The Homestead, sltnate In
z --r-: T;i.'i:p, adjoining lands of Cather
'ma. FaiT.'i M' Cui iiiio and Jas. McGough,
i.!ii lundrod and four acres, more or
i:-a. .".:rv r,v acresot whlchare cleared,
ncn, y
y ai.Jf
may ta"
of ia:
,tnpr:
the grc
. i ir-my !
?
ter i
e. It if
I : :i.:-.3 t- ;pJ a t wo-and-oae-half story
r-:(r.: part plank house, two frame bank
it: ra h an . vuluod and appraised at the
fl:i. .U5uu 1. thr hundred and nlty-six
, i A a tract of timber land sitn-
u-n ii. a'hoininar lands of Martin fc
il. and others, containing one
l..r v nrrrs. valued and appraised at
- i!m. Ir.'d and thirty-two dollars
Av r.rr-j.ii uil not.
H..ii..r:t.',e JiH!f I)a, President
'".tA r .urt at Kbensbursr. the ith day
:.A. l.
JAMir S .m. SINOr.R, Clerk O. C.
Bv r.:i. Saer'ff. L.B.
4-10.4t.
lND for SALE.
larkwort.
ipilliOD ''
; theid-
y i-.V
' . s V
lU.ill. 1
in ::iV
,1 weir1
'he oh15
l.i'ii'opi'";
mv he
ul" lit
wlijtbert
';! at Private Sale, at a low price.
Acres Timber Land.
5Vhi'" t'.wTih!p, Pambrla county. Pa.,
ij" i j art 'if wliat is known as the
FIIAII M OS HER TRACT.
T'l'l-r.f .T (;,!, Fry, Miles baTis. Rob't
'"i"; J..t,n i liaii'uw. "
.!.'.:." i i imrchas will rlense call
-r I uilw r mm i lew
Hollidaysburg,' Ta.
' !" .nr crratlnn that will lead to the con-
sr jrf.r.n cutting timber on the aboTe
: ni; v rrwarded. l4-17.-t.
IC SALK.WU1 be otferal
'"fat p;i!.j,- imtcry. at the Summit,
Mil, , proximo, the follnwinif
ir.t 1
p-rtv. to wit: A HECK OK
Kiiout. KUI K LOTS, with a
"i'e.-l opposite the "Mausion
' 'i of Summit ville. and well
Tif' .nprt (.. A !r.-v 9 coniforljibln
r-:.
WO L u oi- (.P.Ol M in snid Hor
.'a : a Wrll of excellent water
'irr.v.,! Fruit Trcrx In full hparlns-.
,vi Jit. -:
1 in I kitchen I nrniture, ronsisting
' - li- t iiiiy Tables. !haira. Hn.
-"it.:
!o "Nmninnri. fll 10 nVloflr A.
' Krai will be made known.
HKNitV liL'lill K.-5,
MAIiV D. HUGHES.
-t. i":t.-2t.
L.f !-.'ts bor
jar f""L;
a ;
, d.i;e8;
i...t Hl
,.,4 tot
,n tli-es1
Hue
AI.H. The subscribers
I' ll.'iii; Sale, it tbir resi
! I 'wri-hip. on SATURDAY,
'.:,:; w nir personal property. to
" Hn l H.Iks ; one 4-horsu power
" . '
' ' " 'il- small Cider Mill and
.Urr.ni-, Slods, and other farm
"" i 'r ;ih :i variety of llorss
ke. tr,., oilous to mention. Also,
FA KM on which they re
; '" ! I " s lie.
-t- a; io o'clock, A. M., when
kn.iWn hv
JOIIN C. DTMOXD.
1AMF.S MUKELAND.
Ap-i". '4. 1)7 1.-21.
t -!
i covei!
TORs NOTICE. The
un-
.lihati!
.i
V.i'l itor, appointed liy Cour
t.iioria count v to report dig.
"' n: th hands'of W. B. Hon
r,?.fiJ trom the sale of certain
".t;u of John K. Scanlan,
A''ai:u. dee'd, vs. Owen Cun-
K:rs,n(r v3. Frederick Ful-
'iiat he will attend to the
'''o n-., at his olflce in KUens
" "Mi iiu op May next at 1
"'is wh're ail persons inter
"
Mr 4
e c
J
14
im lorever lwbarred from
AN'S, Auditor.
uu K ,v:v!;--A1-persons
are herebr
1 '!t tllrlineinr t Vatw
' ' Patrick McCrLi.nroH. da!
I'ii a '.in ju i1)e m.in,!,). there-
ve i value for naid note
to pay the same unlets
i.-3t
. ANSMAN.
i.' r-r- .
' " l v,,....v : :
;; , "-v s,ven that p
will l,K
June
-TZIN LAKE,
i s .
fv
"l'j r' ,-. -- 9
iiiu.ie ar ihu
i-ibie-t-'-" J--.''"mn'v '?r "orough or Summit
. i l bOI - -;r. ,V ",l,m th" remtrlctions and
U-LL
I
Tlicre is no song like an old scng
Thnt we have not heard lor yaars ;
Each simple note appears to throng
With shapes that swim in. tears.
It may have becu a cheerful strain.
But 'twas so long ago
That glee, grown ol ', lias turned to pain,
Ana iiilrtli has turned to woe.
There is no friend like an old friend,
Whose life-path mates our own,
Whose dawn and noon, whoe eveand end,
Have known what we have known.
It may be when we read his face
We note a trace of care ;
'Tis well that friends in life's last grace
Share sighs as smiles they share.
There is no love like an old love,
A lost, may be, or dtud ;
Whose place, since she has gone above,
No oUrt tills instead.
It is not we'll ne'er love anew,
For life were drear if so,
But that first love bad roots that grew
Where others eanuot grow.
There are no days like the old day.
When we, not they, were young;
When all life's rays were gofden my
And wrong had never stung.
Dear Heart! If now our steps could pass
Through paths of chili I hood's morn,
And the dew of youth Ik on the grts
Which Time's fell scythe has shorn !
Old song, old friend, old love, old days ;
Old things,.yet neer old ,
A stream thai dark till sunshine plays
Aud changes it to gold ;
Through ail wind memory's river on,
'Mid lttinks of sure regret.
Hat a gleam's on the peaks of long-agone,
That softens sadness yet.
A STORY OF MYSTERY AND WOE.
A more honest fellow than Pennington
Smythe never lived. He was young say
twenty-two or three full of a large assort
ment of varied enthusiasm, possessed of an
unlimited belief in the goodness of human
nature, and absolutely incapable of false
hood. And yet, curiously enough, he had a pas
sion for mysteries. Although practically a
common-place Presbyterian, he nevertheless
affected to believe in the mysteries of Rosi
crucianism. lie was perpetually striving,
with conspicuous want of success, to mag
netize his friends, and although he was too
orthodox to lielieve in Spiritualism, he lived
in constant hopes of inducing his washstand
to move and his writing-table to rap, by the
patient contact of his tireless hands. As for
secret societies they were his delight. He
belonged to nearly every ancient and vene
rable order of very modern mechanics and
grocerymen in existence, and kept locked up
in his trunk more flaring gilt badges and
fantastically trimmed aprons, and horse-collars
than would have sufficed to purchase the
sovereignty of a dozen African kingdoms.
And there never was a more honest and
straightforward little girl than Mary Morris,
to whom Smythe was engaged to be married.
She was just out of boarding-school, and
ber respectable father in the wholesale lard
business and her equally respectable mother
in the wholesale family business and all
her thirteen brother and sisters of assorted
sexes, were ready to swear or affirm, as the
case might be that Mary was as good as
gold, and many times as valuable.
The engagement of these two young per
sons was with the full approbation of the
elder Smythes and Morrises. Young Penn
ington was expected to spend three evenings
every week with his betrothed, and they
were always accommodated with a conven
ient back-parlor in which to converse after
the manner of their kind. In these circum
f Unices Pennington Smythe ought to have
been happy, but he wa.s not. There was no
mystery about his love affair, and the fact
weighed upon his spirits.
He did what he could to convince himself
that the respectable old Mr. Morris, who
used to say when Pennington made his ap
pearance, "Now, you children, keep out of
hat there back parlor, and give Mary and
her young man a show" was bitterly op
posed to the match, and must be kept from
perceiving that his daughter was beloved by
her "young man." But the only possible
way which he could devise to throw an air
of secrecy over the affair, was to write notes
to bis beloved in a very cramped hand, and
to deliver them himself. Usually he had to
read them, too, since his handwriting was
too mj'stical to be readily deciphered, and
when they were read they usually contained
nothing but an amplification of the innocu
ous idea that he, Pennington Smythe, pro
poed to love her, Mary Morris, in spite of
every obstacle. As there were no conceivable
obstacles this statement was not one of tre
mendous moment ; but still it gave young
Smythe no little comfort to make it in writ
in" and deliver it with an air of immense
pecrecy.
One day a happy thought struck him.
How delightful it would be to correspond
with his darling in cipher. This idea lilled
him with a culm, mystical joy that was
really a first-class sensation. So he devised
a cipher of the kind so much in vogue
among school-girls, and which consisted ia
substituting one letter for another, and in
stantly wrote a brief note to Mary. This
he carried to her the same evening, together
with a key, and attained the seventh henven
of mystical delight in transmitting it to her.
Poor Mary suffered much from this cipher.
It was very hard work for her to write an
intelligible letter with the new alphabet.
She continually made mistakes in it, and so
kept Pennington out of his bed for hours,
while with locked doors and shaded windows
he tried to decipher Home mich sentence as,
"I do bo long to see you." It wan on'y
when mistake were iiinle in the use of this
cipher thnt it In aiiie -i uiih.'tilt of com
Anliquitles.
prehension to an ordlnnry reader. Poor
Pennington had not devoted much attention
to the subject of cryptography, or he would
have known that there is nothing more
transparent than a cipher which merely con
sists of the substitution of one letter for
another. He was, however, soon to learn
this fact in a very unpleasant way.
One evening Mary dropped a note which
she had received by mail, and it was picked
np by her father. The old gentleman was
wild with horror. There was his trusted
iaughter actually corresponding with some
jnknown villain in cipher. Obviously the
jipher must have some shameful secret. He
tat in his arm-chair with the open note in
nis hand, and serious thoughts of immediate
poplexy in his mind, when his son Tom, a
foung fellow just home from college, entered,
and, frightened at his father's expression of
face, asked and received an explanation.
Tom was a bright young fellow, and he at
once remarked that it was hardly worth
while to take to apoplexy until it was really
apparent that the mysterious note contained
something wrong. He suspected that it was
written by the mystery-loving Smythe, and
he did not doubt his ability to read it. The
note ran as followj :
CRSM PSMX : H TBDS XBC SYC
STFSXN FIITT. OSYYIIYDUBY NPX
ULS. In less than ten minutes Tom had trans
lated this innocent mystery into the words,
"Dear Mary, I love you and always will.
Pennington Smythe," and thus banished his
father's doubt and wretchedness. However,
the old man was angry enough to desire to
give the unfortunate Pennington a lesson
which he might remember. So when the
young man made bin usual evening call he
was awaited in the parlor by the incensed
father and his greatly amused son, and ad
dressed in the following stern and cruel
words :
"Mr. Smythe, what do you mean by
writing to my innocent daughter ' in such
infamous style as this, sir?" and he shook
Pennington's letter before his astonished
eyes.
"Sir," replied the youth, " it is not infa
mous. It is an entirely proper note. All
the world might see it."
"Then why the devil did you write it in
this outlandish lingo?" returned the father.
"She is not to blame," hastily urged
Tennington, judiciously shirking the main
question. I assure you she never can read
them without my help, and when she writes
them she makes so many mistakes that often
I can't make head or tail of them."
"By 'them I suppose you mean the letters
written in cipher," replied Mr. Morris.
"Well, I won't add to your trouble. Only
let me advise you not to write any more
cipher notes, my boy. Tom, here, read
your note almost as easy as if it had been
written in print. There, go along now, and
don't be silly again at least, any more
than you can help, you know." And the
old man, quite recovered from his anger,
went laughingly away.
Pennington lingered. "Is it really true,
Tom, that you could read it without a key?"
he doubtfully asked.
Of course I could. Why, Pen, there is
nothing easier to read than that sort of ci
pher. If you will write in cipher and I
don't see why you shouldn't if you want to,
though you'll find it beastly tiresome I can
tell you of a cipher that no one can possibly
translate."
"If you would be so very kind," mur
mured Pennington.
"Why," continued Tom , "you select some
book. Then out of the words in this book
you make your cipher. For instance, you
want to write 'dear,' as I presume you do,
nnd you find it. say, on the twelfth page of
the book, in the second line from the top,
and the third word in the line. You then
represent it by the numbers 12, 2, 3. And
so with the rest of your note. You see, no
human being could possibly read it unless
they happened to guess what book you
used."
Pennington was overjoyed at this delight
ful plan, and, thanking Tom warmly, hast
ened to unfold the new cipher to Mary. He
felt at perfect liberty to disregard Mr. Mor
ris advice not to write in cipher, for he now
decided that Mary's father would be justifi
ably regarded as a hoary-headed tyrant, bent
upon separating two loving hearts, and only
tit to be circumvented by careful strategy.
So he selected a novel of which he knew
that both Mary and himself possessed
copies ; explained the new cipher with the
utmost care, and after he reached home put
it in immediate practice by writing a brief
note and sending it by post, as he would be
unable to fee her next evening. This is
what he wrote :
35.9.5 33.2.3 45.4.4 C9.5.9 65.4.5
51.15.0 15. 1 .4 ?7. 1 . 185. 19.983.4.2
K3.8.G 89.5.2 39.2.6 1 17.5.671 . 17.8.
Now the book upon which this cipher was
lased was printed in double columns. Un
fortunately Pennington forgot to explain
which of these columns he intended to use.
However, he decided to use the outer column
trusting that the other heart, which, as he
frequently remarked, wasone of two" which
beat as one," would instinctively divine hi3
selection.
Two nights afterwards he reached the
Morris' door, full of delightful anticipations.
He was met by old Mr. Morris who, thrust
ing a note into his hand, explained, with
much unnecessary emphasis, and a total
disregard of the commonest rules of polite
uess, that if he ever venturned to present
himself at that house again he would be
kicked down the front steps, mixed up in
complicated relations with the family bull
dog, committed to the final care- of th
police. ii.
He went home maddened with this very
undesirable mystery, and confident that old
Morris had been attacked with delirium
tremens, and was an exceedingly unsafe ac
quaintance. Once in his room, he sat down
to read the crumpled letter that had been
forced upon him. It was his own letter to
Mary. Below the cipher was written Mary's
translation of it. The poor girl had tried to
translate it by using the inner columns of
the book, and with the following unsatis
factory result :
"You liar when almost hate her and fare
well you deceitful never again and base in
famy." And still further down on the page wa?
written in Mary's hand, "I can make ont
enough of your letter to see it is a cruel,
wicked insult, and I shall tell papa."
It flashed across Pennington's remnant of
a mind that perhaps Mary had made a mis
take in the columns of the book. He seized
the volume and verified his suspicion. The
innocent note that he had written was actu
ally transformed, by the simple process of
reading it with the wrong column as a key,
into the incoherent, but obviously impolite
letter, which had wrought such unhappy
Consequences.
Pennington sank into his chair utterly
overwhelmed. He called himself all the
choice names that old Morris had applied to
him, together with a large selection of other
epithets. He spent an hour in this profitable
occupation. At the end of that time he had
formed a resolution which he proceeded to
put into immediate execution.
He rose up, ami going to his trunk, took
out his secret society emblems and solemnly
threw them in the grate. He next sat down
and wrote twelve separate resignations for
twelve different lodges. Then he wrote a
solemn pledge never, to the day of his death,
to meddle with cipher or any other mystery,
and, finally, writing out a full history of the
cipher letter, sent it, together with the book
which he had used as a key, his pledge to
solemnly abstain from mysteries, and an
humble apology to old Morris.
Of course his explanation was accepted,
and Mary forgave him. Several years have
passed since that event, but if you want to
make Pennington Smythe blush with wretch
edness, all that is necessary is to ask him if
he knows of any good, trustworthy cipher.
That Buried Treasure.
A San Francisco paper says : "The usually
quiet town of Truckee has b"en- msiderably
excited of late over the organization of a
company to search lor diamonds nnd gold
long since buried tn the coast of Florida.
It is said that the company have a cash cap
ital of little less than $40,000, and nearly all
of the solid men of the town are said to have
taken stock. It seems that a colored man by
the name of Jeff Hogan, who has been ad
ministering chickens, eggs, trout, Russian
snipe, etc., to hungry travelers over the
Central Pacific Railroad, and one Joe Mason,
have discovered of late that they were both
on board a certain pirate vessel about thirty
years ago, and were eye-witnesses to the
burying of a vast amount of gold and dia
mond jewelry. Jeff says that his life was
spared on account of his leing cook, and
Mason's on account of his youth being then
but about ten years old. When first told,
the story was not believed, but after awhile
persons were found of sufficient gullibility to
accept the whole story and enlist in the en-
tcrprixo."
Bold Kidnappers.
A correspondent writing from the City of
Mexico says: "Not long since, n rich man,
Senor Cervantes, was kidnapped in the even
ing in one of the most central streets. He
passed lietween two files of loungers who
politely this is old Spanish politeness
opened to let him pav. He was put into a
coach at hand and driven to the house of a
well-to-do Spaniard, who kept a grocery
More; this also situated on the plaza, also
in a central part. Here he was placed in a
sort of erave dug below the floor, and mes
sengers were carrying his letters and arrang
ing ransom. But his friends and Governor
Montrel and the police were wide awake
also, and after some days the letter-carrier
and others were caught, inelnding the owner
of the house, the Spaniard Senor Bello, the
head of the conspiracy. The victim was
rescued alive, and in less than twenty-four
hours this Bello and two others who were
most guilty were shot at Bello's doors, and
afterwards hanged alxve the place of their
crime, and exposed to the public gaze till
the sun went down."
A Spell of Joking.
"The irrepressible joker at the Banks
Club, the other day," says "After Dinner,"
"while touching up his oysters with pepper
from the cantor, observed to the waiter that
'the pepper was half pens.' 'Oh no,' said
the polite attendant, 'that is the lest sort of
pepper.' 'Well, I tell you it is half peas ;
call Mr. Mills.' That gentleman came, and
the joker remarked, '1 always expect to get
the best of everything in this house, but this
pepper is half peas. 'That can't be so ; we
take especial pains to procure it, and have it
ground in our own mill.' 'Well, it is so,
and I can prove it.' 'If you can, I should
like to have you.' 'Well, John, you just
Fpell it. And the amiable proprietor re
tired with a sweet and gentle smile on hii
benevolent face. i
1 pmx'T at all expect company to-day,"
eaid a lady to her visitors, with a not very
plea-ant look; "but I hope you'll make
yourselves at home." "Yes, indeed," re
plied one of them, starting off; "I will
make myself at home a-i quick as possible."
DEAR MOTJIER,COME1IOME. J
Mother, dear mother, come home with me
noWi
The clock In the steeple strikes ten.
You said that you only wanted to stay
One hour to pray out the men.
The beds are not made, the dishes unwashed,
And onr hired girl, she is out, too,
While all the children are still undressed,
And sadly crying for yon.
CHOECS.
Come home! come home! come home!
Please, mother, dear mother, come home!
Hear the sweet voice of your child;
Do not forsake us at home;
How can you resist? Do leave off your pray
Please mother, weneedou at home.
Mother, dear mother, come home with me
now,
The clock in the ftfeeple strikes 'haven,
For al! the duties that you neglect
You'll answer to Father in Heaven.
Our fire is low, and pa wilt soon come.
And dinner I cannot complete,
While, weary and worn with five hours
work,
He'll look for something to eat.
Chorus Come home, &c.
Mother, dear mother, come home with me
now.
The clock in the steeple strikes
The dinner's not ready, and pa ha
s twelve
pa has come
V ith the food lviue cold on the shelf.
He seemed so sad, and spoke with a sigh,
As he was asking for you;
And Willie he kissed with a tear in his eye;
Please mother! dear mother! 'twon't do.
Chorus Come home, &c.
Mother, dear mother, come home with me
now,
The clock in the steeple strikes one;
You said yon were coming right home from
the street,
As soon as your prayers were done.
Our fire has pone out, and we are alone,
And pa's hungry at work until tea;
Ami Willie, poor boy, is not feeling well,
With no one to help bim but me.
Chobus Coaae home, &c.
Mother, dear mother, come home with me
now.
The clock in the steeple strikes two;
The house has grown cold, poor Willie is
worse,
And he has been calling for yon.
Indeed he is worse; I'm afraid he will die
. If you'll not cease praying ont men;
And these are the words 1 came to bring:
Hasten home if you'd see him agaiu.
Chorcs Come home, &c.
Mother, dear mother, come home with me
now,
The clock in the steeple strikes three;
The house is lonely, the hours are long,
For Willie has gone and left me!
Yes, I am alone; poor Willie is dead,
And gone up to heaven's bright dome,
And these were the very last words he said
"I want dear mamma at home."
Chorcs Come home, &c.
TER VIMMIX.
LAMEXTATIONS OF A BESIEGED TEUTON.
Who makes dot rnmpus mit ter shin?
Who makes der risky var begin?
Who say der draffic is a sin?
Ter vimmin!
Who calls mine peer "ter nashdy shlop,"
Und my saloon "Hell's Kitchen tfhop,"
Und shvear my peeziness she vill sthop!
Ter vimmin!
Who conte to my saloon vmi day
TTnd make some d roubles right ava'y?
Who kneel around my par und bray?
Ter vimraii.!
Who dalk ter "bizen stuff" apoud,
Und sing, und cry,und preach, und shout?
Who vant to let my pnngholes out?
Ter vimmin!
Who, ven she vas der house oud sent
Vas on my toorstep made a dent,
Und shvear to lay a siege she meant?
Ter vimmin!
Who, ven my gostomers so dry
Vas vant some gockdails on ter sly,
Vas sure to catch him in her eye?
Ter vimmin!
Who putton-hole each man she meet
Und dalk to him so kind und shveet,
Und coax him not himself to treat?
Ter vimmin!
ine nanger of Using Shot for
Cleaning Bottles.
Fordos has recently directed attention to
the dangers of lead poisoning where shot
are used for cleaning bottles that are to be
used for wine and other leverages. When
shot are placed in a glass with water, cor
bouate of lead is at once formed, a portion
of it being noticed as a precipitate in the
water, while another portion of it attaches
itelf as a thin film to the sides of the vessel.
This film adheres so firmly to the glass that
it cannot be removed by rinsing with water
alone, an acid being required to remove it.
When shot are used for cleaning bottles
which are afterwards well rinsed out, the
;arbonate of lead susj)ended in the water
will tie removed, but that portion which is
attached to the sides of the bottle remains,
and is afterward dissolved by the liquid
placed in the bottle, if it possesses a suffici
ent solvent power. If the shot are only
shaken up with water for a short time, it is
scarcely possible for the carbonate of lead
to become attached to the sides of the bottles,
but oftentimes the shot are left in the bottle
with the water for some time. Besides, the
rinsing is not always done so carefully as it
should be, and the carbonate of lead sus
pended in the water is not all removed.
Fordos took four half-pint medicine glasses
that had been cleaned with shot, and in one
he placed white wine, in another red wine,
in the third quinine wine, and in the fourth
vinegar. After standing two days each was
found to contain a Considerable quantity of
lead.
Another danger might also arise from shot
getting lodged in the narrow emises at the
bottom of certain bottles, when the action
of an acid uon it would dwsolve not only
the lead, but also the arsenic which is
always present in the shot in sufficient
quantity to render the liquid. p jl-onous.
A swef t little boy, only eitrht years old
bless his little heart walked into the scene
of a teacher's examination at Oswetro, last
week, and bawled out, "Annie your ieller
L down to the houe !"
A Novel In One Chapter.
Some six or seven years ago, by one of
the current Occidents of social ititeivour-?,
there came together, nnd g'.'t interested in
each other, in an Atlantic city, a young man
and a young woman. The nmu w:is cdu:a
ted, in professional life, of good social rank,
and generally esteemed of more than a ernge
ability. Thoe who thought best of him
believed he was sure, sooaer or later, to do
great things.
In the mean time, he had the misfortune
to be poor. The young woman was the
daughter of a rich manufacturer. She had
been brought up to attach at least it proper
value to money, and, in fact, to attach too
much credit to its possession.
She had too much Innate refinement to !c
purse-proud; but living always with thoe
who, possibly for lack of anything letter,
pique themselves on their posses-ions, is not
likely to have n wholesome eflVct on impres
sionable youth. Be this as it m-, an affec
tion sprang up between these two people,
arowed in time on both sides, cemented by
every reciprocal pledge of fidelity.
The matter became known, after a "pace,
to the lady's family, and then began the
peculiar phase of the story that has now
reached its climax. Au explanation having
become necessary, the lover was confronted
with the statement from his perfidious
adored one, that he had totally misconceived
her feelings and intention. There was
much talk, hut this was the gist and end of
it. The invention was as palpable as its
purpose.
Astonished as was the poor fellow, he was
equally helpless. Either the girl's own pride
or the stress of family influence, had led her
to adopt a course, which, however painful
or however wicked, presented the advantage
of admitting absolutely of no appeal. Be
wildered, humiliated and stricken to the
heart, the suitor accepted the situation like
a brave, if also like a sensitive man. Adieux
were exchanged in the guise of friendliness,
but when the discarded admirer went away
he made up his mind that he had gone away
forever. The play and the reality are in
precise accord here, and they continue won
derfully so to the end.
Years rolled by, and the affluent manu
facturer, who had thought himself far away
beyond the caprice of fortune, by a series of
unlucky chances became slightly einbarased.
Tiht money markets, the failure of corres
pondents, the encroachments of competitors,
a reduced demand in his special trade, each,
or all, increased this embarassment until at
last, in advanced age, aud living in a most
expensive mannner, he found himself on the
brink of failure and ruin. Pending this,
the "whirligigs of time" had been at work
in good earnest. The man who had been so
dextrously or shamelessly cozened out of
his bride, partly by the force of his natural
genius, partly by good fortune, had rien
to wealth nnd power.
By one of those strange chances which it
is the fashion to say happen only on the
stage, or in sensation romance, but which
do in sooth often come to pass in real life,
the key, so to speak, to the manufacturer's
position fell into this gentleman's hands.
Notes to a large amount made by the former
Croesus, potential influence with the corpo
rations and individuals with whom, his
affairs were most blended, were at the
control of the lover of five years ago. By a
natural process again, it fell out that the
old position was resumed, but this time
mider i ji j jo auifiia. it wa. natural
that the younger man should hail with joy
the chance to recover his lost love. An en
gagement was soon made, then, on terms
easy to imagine, nnd this time without any
lying or equivocation.
The relative situations had chnngxl, md
there was room both for a happy revival of
the pat and politic silence concerning it.
On the bridal day the groom presented him
self, and then, in the presence of the bride's
family and friends, came the climax. It is
not to lw justified, and yet none can say it
Was not a righteous ret) ihution. To I.
brief, the bridegroom, in the drama aud the
reality, nre in the same exact accordance up
to the catastrophe.
On the morning of the d.iy fixed for the
wedding, and r.t an hour fixed for signing
necessary papeis, the bridegroom proecedxl
calmly to tell the whole truth of his telatious
with the young lady and her family. Hav
ing recited the nature of his proxooatioii, he
Wound up by announcing that of his revenge.
This consisted in his utter refjsal ever to
wed the woman he once had loved, and to
whom he had thus boen fbr a second time
affianced. The indignation nnd excitement
that followed need not le deseri'ted. The
act was cruel, unmanly ; but it must be re
ineuiliered that for years the iron had been
cutting into the perpetrator's soul. In the
play, the girl, who, throughout everything,
tenderly loves the man whom she once bc
t rayed, and so taught to betray herself,
marries him e.fter all, when she is just dying
of a broken heart. In the drama of real
life, the action has proceeded oniy as far as
we have related.
A gentleman auked the veteran actor,
Charles Mathews, how lie had managed to
preserve his youth ful spirit. and vigor so
exceedingly well. ''Well," answered the
comedian, "I have lived a pretty free life,
but 1 have alwny1 made it a rule to have
eight hour's sleep out of the twenty-four.
No matter where I was. orwl rt the temp
tation. I would have nv sleep. And
then I always eat four good sound meal a j
day." "But are you not a great smoker? j
"Weil, no ; not so very ni.ich of a
smoker. I begin every morning, ic 5- tut?,
but then 1 leave off at ni ht.M
I
The SIlTrr Cun.
The palace of the Duke de Montre wa
decorated for a banquet. A thousand wax
lights barued in its stately rooms, making
them bright us mid-day. Along the walls
glowed the priceless tapestry of the (johe
line, and beneath the foot lay the fabrics of
Persia. Rare vae, filled with flowers,
stood on the marble stand, ard their breath
went up like ineen-e before tie life-like pic
tures shining yi their golden frames above.
In the great hall s.ood immense tahlel
covered with delicacies front all lands and
cliinesi Upon the side-b mrd glittered mass
ive plate, and the rich glass of Mnrano.
Muie, now low and soft, now bold nnd
high, floated in through the opened case
ment, and was answered nt intervals by
tones of magic sweetness.
All was ready. The noM? and gifted
poured into the gorgeous saloons. Sillrw
rustled, plumes wave!, and jewe'.ed embroi
deries Cashed from Genoa velvets. Courtly
Congratulations fell from every lip, for the
Duke de Montre had made a new step iu the
path to power. Wit sparkle!, the laugh
went round, and his guests pledged bim in
wine that a hundred years had mellowed.
Proudly the duke replied; but his brow
darkened, and his cheek paled with passion,
for his son sat motionless before hi untastei
cup.
" Wherefure is this?" he angrily demand
ed. "When did my first-born learn to
insult his father?"
The graceful stripling sprang from hii
scat, and knelt meekly before his parent.
His sunny curls fell back from his upturned
face, and his youthful countenance was ra
diant with a brave and generous pirit.
"Father," he said, "I last night learned
a lesson that sunk into my heart. Iet me
repeat it, and then, at thy command, I will
drain the cup. I saw a laborer stand at the
door of a gay shop. He held in his hand
the earnings of a week, and his wife, with a
sickly liahe and two famishing litle ones,
clung to his garments and besought him not
to enter. He tore hi:nelf a way, for his
thirst was strong, and, but for the care of a
stranger, Ids family would have perihed.
"I went on, and, father, a citizen of nob'e
air and majestic form descended the wide
steps of hi fine mansion. Hi wife put
back the curtain, and watched him eagerly
and wistfully as he rode away. She was
very, very lonely, fairer tlma my lady of
the court, but the shadow of a sad heart
was fixst falling on her beauty. We saw
her gaze around upon the desolate splendor
of her saloon, and then clasp her hands io
the wild agony of despair. When we re
turned her huslwnd lay helpless on a couch,
and she snt weeping beide hitn.
"Once more we paused. A carriage stood
liefore a palace. It was rich with burnished
gold, and the armorial liearings of a duke
were vi-ihle in the moon-beams. We waited
for irs owner to alight, but he did not move,
nnd he gave no orders. Soon the servants
came crowding out; sorrowfully they lifted
him in their arm, and I saw that some of
the jewels were torn from hi mantle, and
his plumed cap was crushed and soiled, as if
by the pressure of many footstep. They
bore hitn into the palace, and I wondered if
his duchess wept like the beautiful wife of
the citizen.
"A I looked on sll this, my tutor told
me it was the work of the red wine, which,
leaps gaily up, and laughs over its victims
in demon merriment. I shuddered, father,
nnd resolved never again to taste it, lest I,
too, should fall. But your word ia law to
me. Shall I drain the cup?'
"No, my son, touch it not. It i poison,
as thy tutor told thee. It fires the brain,
weakens the intellect, destroys the soul.
Put it away from thee, and so thou t-halt
grow up wise and good, a blessing to thyself
and to thy country."
He glanced around the circle. Surprise
end admiration were on every face, and,
moved by the same impulse, nil arose, while
one of their nuiulier spoke.
"Thou ha-4 done nobly, box," he sal!,
"and thy rebuke shall not be soxn forgotten.
We have congratulated thy fjther upon the
acquisition of honors, which may pass with
the" parsing rcr.son. We now congratulate
hiui upon that bet of all possessions, a son
worthy of France and of himself.'
The haughty courtiers bowed a growing
assent, and each cla-ped the hand of the
boy. But the father tok him to his heart,
and even now, among the treasured relics of
the family, is numbered that silver cap.
A farmer in this county, say a Nortli
Carolina paper, ha a mule so awfully con
trary that he can do nothing with it. Put
him in harness, und it is hard to say which
way he will travel. Put a saddle on him,
and he appears to doze : ""' to mount
him, and he w ill all of a sudden tiegin to
kick every way tniight out, straddlehug,
with all four leg at once. As to eating, he
will eat any thing, from his feed-trough up
to a wooden saildh. T ie owner took a no
tion to have him s':od ; but he kicked oat
the b!ackc:n;.h shop and returned home.
The owner tril to kill hiiu some time since,
so he tied hi ears with a trnee-chain and
rode him for six consecutive days and nighu
ns hard as he could under w hip and spur.
The fact is, he nearly killed himself in the
effort, and had to he carried up-stairs to
led, and his firm le!ief wa that the mule
would die that night; but, to his aKtoni-di-nient,
the next morning he found that the
mule had kicked to death a Chetr hog
weighing three hundred pounds, bit a piece
ont of his hor-'e's shoulder, ate up a saddle,
blanket and bridle, tore down the fence, and
was spl;iiM,iug about, more devili-h than
ever, to nd something 'ie meaner to do. j