Hi
MI
r K-j m hvi ir
L A. PJcPIKE, Editor and Publisher.
HE IS A FUEEMA5 WHOM THE TRUTH MAKES FREE, AND AI.I. ARE SLAVES BESIDE.
Terms, S2 per year. In advance
)U MK IX.
EBENSIJURG, PA., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1875.
NUMBER 37
to
s -r
3Mow
i AIT
1 1) n nnTn rv i tt v
h
1 UCHUI
ftcs. 113 and 115 Clinton St., Johnstown.
rrsT O fl. Y 77 . A large nssnrt
,,. .f n. IN ai:l PAUPED FLAN
i'i all c-'l"is at extraordinary low
I
J: J I !'.!! ' r . nam, liarred.
til M;ij(Ml. 1:1 all ;lw;tles, at VEUT low
If YOOl. hhv'i an.l eolorrf1, C'ASII-
I .;l-.S. !' i''k ami cn.ri; iILKS.
, 4 ;; i;ti!.:. in pi v:it variety, and
: : a: v --x (ionics f-r cah.
. .rev ".':. "T ( '.i'i::i". Muslins and
. i;i.'-.r cunttMs, and niorearriv-
'.rly.
! ..!.', I r f i 1 1 n f 1 1 1 is luuy
. r! i . 'i'i tiling needed for ec-
V '.' '. s iii cml.i'ss vant-ty.
lie:. 1 1 3 and 115 Clintcn St.,
Johnstown, Pa.
mmMi mmmmi
MMTAtTl'Kf.ns OF THE CELEmt ATFD
". 11. Sf A lll.M A A,
i; 1 r-
I
(Formerly Red Lion Hotel.)
NO. 7 SIXTH STREET,
Dri'l'je,
n t:
r
(WIT BUSINESS !
V. (H 1 11 OF
j nmr
1
i -" - . i j bk t oi'ai itv. for Men
' . - " ..I '-.! i wit In ut rt!tr e. at
miS" CLQTH1HG STORE
Ml
. t..rth'T with a lari?"
! I.- . W Kit. Overall,
'.lars. Culls, HunJker-
I -r.
.
l.i- is.
;u: t)f mireM. will r-II
;hA i.mI K -! in !mo t.,rc. rilF.Al'-
' Vlr ,"U K 1 ' ,l l n,K 1 1 FT K FX
r. ,' ' t-r-t the (.l:t'e across t lie
' ' "' "rhi.i.iintl as 1 am detcr-
5 'l.wi.l K,
;,;aIN! Bdrzains! BAKGAINS!
.. . . .lOIIN F. IJAKNES.
1-7-.. 2a.
'M i.N T 1 1 A T( II 'S N OT I C E.
. . V ' ' f Sa?'t"f i. IIf.nrv, d:M.
I!
'ti'tri'tii.n on tli; f-s1nt" or
o of I .h-nliui tr hortit.arli.
';! ' . h ivhi l.i'cii iriiiuti'il to me
i ,i 1 1 1 - t "i to mid eMate
''' ,,:''ke iu'.!H'.i'i;Oe payment,
' i"..! iir:i:n- the kiiiki will
:" ! " !Ki!y nuU"n!ie;ite.l fi.r pt-t-
... . J HuM as DAY Id.
-All persons arc herebv
i'.'7' '""d'llfl Jvitli a team f
' '! yk bruwn) wagon. liarnpfsand
,' " 1 "l:rti.j tier ocl uuiil we are
" ' '" .l III'' il w , v
PIN N'KY J. JOHNSON.
s i'"- I-, l-TJ.-at.
it, ot nm rmvrr
uiuuiiuimriu
.Java Canvas in all colors; Honey
comb and liciilvonil Ctinvus.
Cfrh1 and Silver Perforated Card
Hoard.
A Ureal Asftorment of TATTERX
HOOKS for working on canvas and cl"lh ;
also, Patterns for crocheting lace and tidies.
V,a.r Head." and a largo variety of Fan
cy Goods.
A ltrfl Assortment of P.erlin Zepltyr,
fit st quality ; Gormantown, Cashmere and
Hahnoial Yarns. Also, Morgan's celebra
ted Stocking Yarn, in all colors, at our
standard low nrices.
We inn7,e it a speriaJfjf to procure
nJl rjoot in our line, ri.-t in ttock, in the
shortest potn'ble time, by ptftit leariiij
their oniirs.
GZI3, FOSTER & Q'JINN,
Nos. H3 and 115 Clinton St.,
Johnstown, Pa.
i VOTTJ2. lUSICAI. GOODS VrX
I'ii.orfor, Hjnnfirf nrer, anj Doalor In nil kiml of
I ITT; n iT.riT1T-T TIT I ltn 1 1TTI rrTTTI 'nTTTT TT I TTTfT.TTn flTlfl 1 IT
Hi s iiiciiinii riAiiu, Miu mh rmLMttiuumo unuAn
CENEKAi Wnoi.ESAI.E AGENTS FOR TFIE
r ir. x rr x in o x p i a. x o -
r in :.; A. I n. tl-"'1nn. Bwiffl ( l.on'!fiTi ). Sme (Pr). Tlston Tulre. ml onr n-nn mak
el itihirj U !M!tl .lll.MV The hwt nnrt frpuhost Mrincs
T.T nil Initrniiipnt rnstaatly on baml.
"i I I'i. 1. 111 KliS of sll EKT MI'SIC, (fc mnke ttiis branch ft pr"l;iUy. nnd nlway knep A
, ; . r ... .ui.l in Jt ;.in-(..i on luiii'l. Oar Flni'k of mnsiic ltks ot all kind is ctiinplcte.
I l.v AND P. XS SOl.l ON Till'. IN I'A I.I.M F I' l'!,AN.
l.l INSTIM-MKNTS TAKKS IN KXCHANnE.
l. i'r.n - 1'ilsi.f S.-minario?, lcr or n.m.t. Tca-lior. .! all wl'hir.y to purchase
i - ti ' ! i; i 1 ;t t li'Mr iiiiri-t to i-Mmni'inK'ato ilircct ly with us.
i :i '. I'ri'-e Lhtf tnrnijOieil free on apnlioatiim.
Jhercoms, No. 12 Sixth Street, st. ciair.)
PITTSBURGH, PA.
IV IT, LI AM McCOY.
SH3
PITTSr.URGII, PA
.,, .),-v rr.fjtt-r.-l ;m rfTurnwIiP''. nnJ row olTtTS acoom nioilHtiorn
r si!i,-).i..,t iih tin' titt tbo market a!S'rtl-s. Price nor day
.i - ' in c ioi I vicimt y Hf rVi i-tluily invileii lo Rueus u can.
t .ir ivisi every tfree minu '..
IN CONNECTION WITH THE IIOK.4F..
-ru .1 ctau! P.I AM A- M'COY. Pronrictors.
J 1 Jm B V m m m my - - I - -
John Diuert John D. Huberts.
John Bibert & Co.,
Corner Main and Franklin Sts.,
.TOII?STOWN, i'-'i.
Accounts of Merchants and other
business people solicited. Drafts
ntgotiable in all parts of the coun
try f"r "ale. Money loaned and
Collections Made. Interest at the
rateofSiJC I'er Cent, per annum al
lotretl on Time Deposits.
Savinfs Deposits liooJcs issued,
find Interest Compounded Semi
annuay wliti dtird.
A'Gcnoral Banking Business Transacted.
Sept. 10, H7!.-6nrt.
I'lrism ic(.ii, pa.
For upwards of twenty years the Icadinar bufl
npss College of the United Stntes, affords une
qualled advantages Tor the tlioroutrh, practical ed.
ucation oryouna; and middle ajjed men. Students
admitted at anytime. -For circulars, addrofg,
J. O. SMITH, A. Itf..
Principal.
M-TheIHO rit'Y OM.i:iK Istheow
Institution of the kind, in this city, tli.it wo recom
mend to the piddle patronage." ProijTnVtu
H inner, Pittsburgh, 1'. 9-17.-3ui.J
AN Al'Ti nji KOXU.
BT JESSIE IIARRtSOX.
Oh, the changes will follow the years as they
Atnl hliailows must mingle with sunlight,
we know;
The flowers jve gather will wither at last;
The songs we are singing bo lost in the past;
Some links must le hroken in life's golden
chain,
And bells that rang sweetly may not ring
again 1
Vet why need we mourn, looking back o'er
the way,
When forth in the future such brightness
may stay ;
For all of our losses comes something to gain,
And pleasure close follows the footsteps of
pain.
Oh, the Tiver that floweth forever the same
May follow ono channel and bear the one
nanie;
But the flowers on its margin, the trees and
the grns.
Forever must change with the seasons that
pnss.
And thus our affection the stream of the
sold
Kight onward, forever unchanging, shall
roll.
Though that which hath blossomed once fair
by its side
May sink away slowly with time's ebbing
tide.
Oh, why need we sorrow for joys that are
Rone,
While the life-givir.g river forever f.ows on?
AX Evicriox.
"Mary, Mary ! do yoti hear what the
neighbors says that we're all going to bo
evicted?" cried Dents Connor, entering bis
cabin one evening towaids the end of Octo
ber, and sitting down dejectedly; while
Mary, his wife, looked up ficmjher woik in
blank dismay.
''What do you mean, Penis ?" Iie asked.
"Sure, we d.ni't owe a penny of rent, and
if the Losd spates our health we'll remain
feO."
"It's too true, I'm afraid. O Molly, it'll
break my Leart to leave the old place !
and what'll you and Oona do?" and the
old man rocked himself to and fro, and
moaned bittetlj.
"Whist, Denis, dear," Mary said, gently
placing her hand on her husband's shoul
der; there's some mistake, ye may be cer
tain. His Honor could not mcau to turn
us out, for sure there's no decentcr poor
people on all the property than the neigh
bors. It ian't liko as if wo were living eu
tiiely on the land, and couldn't pay the
rent. His Honor couldn't mean to evict
., Denis !"
15ut his Honor did mean to evict them,
as they learned fotmally a few days after ;
the entire village of Cloonabeg was to bo
swept away.
It was a wild, bleak spot on the west
coast of Ireland, not many miles from the
ancient "Citio of the Tribes." The village
consisted of a long, straggling row of cab
ins, on the edge of a common, and within a
stone's-tbrow of the sea. The inhabit
ants of Cloonabeg were lishermen poor,
simple, holiest, hard-woiking people who
had been born in the cabins thej dwelt in,
and their fathers and grandfathers beforo
them, and knew little of the world beyond.
1 bey all had tlo right of the common on
tho other side of which stood the village of
Cloonamore, a much more important place,
which boasted the possession of & police
barrack, a chapel, and a national school.
There was little intimacy between the in
habitants of the two villages. The Cloona
more people were farmers, comfortable as
farmers go in the west of Ireland, where
ihey have to toil, and toil continually, to
make tho wretched land produce any thing.
They were very jealous of their neighbors
down by the Reas-ide, who paid far less
rent, and on tho whole seemed not only to
woik less, but to be more comfortable.
The fishermen were quiet, proud, re
served people, who lived entirely to them
selves, helping each other in difficulty, con
soling each other in trouble, and taking
little interest in anything save the coming
and going of tho shoals of fish.
They spent their evenings, when not out
on the bay, with their wives ; and it was
pleasant to see them sitting outside their
cabin doors, smoking their pipes, or mend
ing their nets and sails the men in their
rough home-knit blue guernseys, the wo
men in their scat let jackets. They ere
very poor, but their wants were few, and
they were contented and happy in their
simple way.
Denis Conner was considered the most
comfortable man in Cloonabeg. lie had a
son in America, who often sent him money ;
and a daughter married to a fishmonger in
Galway, who was considered almost a mer
chant. One other child he had, Oona, a
pretty golden-haired gill, the pet of tho
whole village.
In the next cabin to Denis Connor's lived
a very old woman, named Merrick ; poor
Judy she was called, for she had had many
troubles in her lifetime. Her husband and
only son were drowned twenty years be
fore, trying to save the crew of a brig
which struck on "Marguerite's Rock."
Y otitis: Merrick left a wife who died a few
months after, and a sickly littlo boy. Poor
Judy took the child, and managed to bring
hirn up and keep a roof overhead by con
stant hard work. She assisted the neigh
bors in their housewoik, who paid her in
kind ; and made and meiuK-d nets for any
of the men who could afford to pay her a
trirte, just sufficient to pay the rent. For
fifteen years Judy toiled lata and early,
and then hor grandson, Willie, was old
enough to lake his father's boat and nets
and earn bis living, and support his graud-
niother. A fine, handsome, manly lad was
Willie Merrick, full chested, clear-eyed and
supple sinewed like the majority of the
hardy bods of the sea coast.
In the market, every one liked to buy
Lis mackerel and haddocks, not only be
cause they could depend on whatever he
offered for sale being genuinely good and
moderate in price, but they liked the look
of his honest face and clear hazel eyes, and
the sound of his hearty voice.
Mrs. Merrick was proud of her grandson,
and not without leason, for he was a uni
versal favorite, and deserved to be.
A few evenings after Denis Connor had
told hia wife of the threatened eviction,
Oona, his daughter, was sitting with Wil
lie Merrick on the tone seat outside of
Judy's cabin. There was no "take," and
tho men were all about the bench attend
ing to the drive of the nets, or watching a
little boat which was ciakiug for the quay
against wind and tido.
"She'll never get in, Oona, if they don't
tack more to the cast'ard," Willie said.
"Oh, if I had a boat liko her, wouldn't I
bo happy I"
"Aren't ye happy as ye are, Willie?"
Oona asked. "Ye told me the other night
that ye w as the happiest boy in Cloonabeg
or Cloonamore cither."
"So I am, darlin," Willie said, looking
tenderly at the fair, saucy face beside him ;
"but I'll bo happier when yer my own ru
tircly. When is it to bo ?"
"Whenever ye like, Willie ; father and
mother are willing, and yer granny is teas
ing mo every day. Sure, we're all as ono
as married, aren't wc, Willie ?"
"Yes, dailiu'; but I want the priest to
spake the words, and put this on yer ueethy
littlo finger;" and young Merrick pulled
from his pocket a canvass bag, from the
farthest corner of w hich he pulled a wedding-ring.
"This Shrovetide, then, Villie," Oona
whispered with a blush. "Now, 1 must
go in, as mother'll be wanting me. Is that
the agent gone into Martin Gill's, Willie?
I didn't think it was rent day yet."
"Yes, faix, it is, Oona, and it wants a
week yet to the half year ;" and Oona
went itito the house, while Willio wont to
see what tho people weic gathering in
groups for, and talking so mysteriously
about. A very few wonts served to ex
plain the object of the agent's is.it. He
had come, accompanied by the baiiiif, to
eerve "notice to quit" on every house.
"His Honor, the laudkud, wanted the
place cleared down," was all the reason
ho gave. It was a sad thing to walk
through the village of Cloonabeg that
evening, and go from house to house w ith
the agent. Everywhere he said the same
thing: "Yo must clear out; His llonoi
wants the place. I'll forgive ye half this
half-year's rent ail around, and give ye to
the 1st of January to get away. Iut re
member the men'll be here on New Yeai's
day to pull down these dens."
15y tho time they had reached Denis
Connor's the whole villnge men, women,
and children were after them, crying
bitterly, and Judy Met rick came to ask
what the matter was.
"It's evicted we are served with a no
tice to quit, Judy," Mary Connor said
quietly. "It isn't easy to leave tho place
ye were bred and boin in, and go out on
tho world. But God's god ; cheer up,
Denis ari'c."
"What docs she mean, Denis Connor?"
Judy cried. "Is it that they're goin' to
dispossess ye to turn ye out of tho cabin
ye weri born in, and yer father and grand
father beforn yc?"
"Yes, ma'am ; that's exactly what wo
mean," the bailiff said. "I'm going to
serve you next,."
"Servo tne ! evict mo, turn rr.e, an old
woman of three score and ten, out on the
road side !" Jndy screamed. "No! I was
born in that cabin ; my father lived and
died in it : my ancestors were the first that
ever raised a stone vf Cloonabeg. Old
Judy, poor Judy, Judy Merrick, ye may
call me, but I'm Julia O'Drien, and in the
cabin I've lived in there I'll die."
"We'll see about that," the bailiff
sneered, and Judy rushed out, and knelt
down at her door-step. "The first otie
that crosses here will have to walk ovor
me," she shrieked ; but the bailiff ad
vanced, and laying bis band on her shoul
der, gave her a printed form, and said
jeeringly :
"You're served Mrs. Merrick ; and I'd
take it easier, if I were you. Come on,
sir," be added, turning to the agent, who
was examining the condition of the house.
Judy Merrick stood up, and looked at
the notice in her hand, and then advanced
to the agent's side. "Mr. Hayes sir,"
she said slowly, "I'm to be out of this
cabin on the 1st of January, amu't I?"
"Yes ; and see that you are," Mr. Hayes
replied.
"Where am I going to, sir?"
"My good woman, that's nothing what
ever tome," he said shrugging his shoul
ders; "go wherever you like."
"You know, sir, that in Cloonamore ono
of us can't get a bit, nor sup, nor lodging,
for love or money, even if we, had that same.
Where'll we go to, Mr. Hayes, sir; will ye
ask His Honor that?"
"That's nothing whatever to His Honor;
he wants his houses, and I suppose he has
a right to them. It's not every landlord
would treat yon so well as to forgive you a
quarter's rent, and then give yo two
months' notice and nothing to pay," the i
agent said.
"It's. not every tenant that treats a land-j
lord as well a we did in my memory and ;
that's more than three-score years. He '
never lost a penny on one of the cabins, and '
one of us was never a day behind with six- I
pence o' rent. Can Cloonamore say that,
Mr. Hayes, sir? Go back to the big house
and tell His Honor that Judy Merrick is
going to die in the cabin she lived in, or on
the heap of stones ye level it to."
"Come, come ; that's all nonsense. See
that you are out, bag and baggage, before
the 1st of January," thejbailiff said, roughly
laying his baud on the old woman's shoul
der. "Don't touch me, ye miserable creature!"'
she cried, shrinking back. "Don't lay yer
dirty hand on me, ye black-hearted villain.
Ijook at hitr., neighbors, mark him, tie
tor ! It's all hisdom'sandhiH," pointing
to the agent. "Maik them, Willie! Don't
forget their evil faces !"
"I'll not forget them, granny," Willie
Merrick said sternly, with quivering lips
and flashing eyes; "and if I ever have a
chance, God help them both."
"Och!" Judy cried, lifting up her hands
"may God forget them it their grcatert
need, and forgive them like as I do now ;"'
and she went in and sat rocking herself for
many hours over the fire.
The 1st of January 18o- was a bleak,
w ild day, with a fierce east wind, driving a
cutting, bitter sleet before it. The sea and
sky, of a gray leaden hue, seemed to meet
you could scarcely distinguish ono from
tho other ; and the storm raged along the
desolate coast.
The village of Cloonabeg presented a
very pitiful sight that N t'W 1 Oil I" s day a
sight once seen, never to be forgotten a
sight which impressed itself on the memory
with burning intensity the sight of an evic
tion ! All wools arc inadequate to describe
the scene it is something one must look on
to thoroughly comprehend. That morning
on the common, wherever a stunted shrub
offered tho faintest shelter from the bitter
east wind, the people were sitting huddled
together, or lying on their poor beds to keep
themselves warm, wailing for the demoli
tion of their cabins; women weeping bit
.terly, children shivering, nml men with
folded arms, and set teeth, and blanched
faces men poor, ignorant, homeless, yet
exercising a self-control wonderful and
touching. The lane leading to the village
was also lined on each side by the unfortu
nate people ; and as the bailiifs came w ifli
picks to begin their work, the women
greeted them with a terrible cry.
The men were silent, calmly, grandly si
lent. They could have easily beaten off the
intruders they could" have chased them
into the sea, or dashed their brains; out
against the rocks ; but what would it avail?
Others would corao and take their places,
for Cloonabeg was doomed. The men
locked passively on as they saw their homes
levelled to tho earth as they saw cabin
after cabin fail in.
Opptisite the door, Denis Connor nnd his
wife and daughter sat waiting for the end
beforo starting for Galway. In vain they
entreated Judy Men ick to accompany them ;
sho would not leave her cabin. Grim and
resolute she sat on her bed, and declared
solemnly that out she would not go. And
her grandson, Willie? Poor fellow, he was
in Galway jail on a charge of attempted
murder. Mr. Hayes, tho agent, had been
fired at and without any hesitation ho ac
cused Willie Meri ick, and the bailiff swore
be heard the young man threaten him ; so
he was committed to stand his trial at tho
spring assizes.
When the men came to Mrs. Merrick's
house, and found her still inside, tlrry
paused in dismay, but the bead biiililFs or
der came sharp and decisive : "Go on !"
and a shower of dust and stones about poor
Judy's cars showed that they were going
on without any mistake. Then Denis Con
nor rushed in, and seizing the woman in his
arms, carried hor out, just as the roof gave
way ; bnt he might as well have left her in
her dearly loved cabin, for Judy Merrick
was dead ! The first desecrating blow
struck to the roof which had so long shel
tered her, had stilled her heart forever.
All through that dreary winter-day the
people sat shivering by the wayside,
mourning over their ruined, desolated
homes, and at night some few of them were
sheltered in barns and out-houses, while
others lay under the hedges or on the fallen
cabins. The next morning, vans came and
took the very old andjsick to the workhouse,
and those who were able to walk and work
went hither and thither in search of em
ployment. All this time His Honor, the landlord,
was enjoying his honeymoon on the shores
of Lake Laman, and knew no more about
the fearful scene enacted in Cloonabeg than
his somewhilo tenants about his locality.
The agent thought the little village in the
way ; the common would, he fancied, make
a valuable piece of pastureland ; and so he
wrote to his master, and said the houses
weie only dilapidated dens ; dcclaied the
tenants never did, or could, or would pay
any rent ; and then the best thing for all
parties was to pull tho cabins down, as the
people would tiien emigrate to .America.
And so 5Ir. Hayes evicted, the people and
razed their homes to the earth ! Such
things have been columns and are slill not
unknown in the west of Ireland.
Months passed, and Willie Meriick still
lay in jail awaiting his trial. At the as-
sizes there was not a shadow of proof
against him, and one of the game-keepers
on an adjoining estate confessed that it w as
be who fired the shot which wounded the
agent ; so Merrick was acquitted, and a few-
kind-hearted people subsnibed enough
money to pay bis passage to America.
"You'll come out to nie, Oona dailing.
won't, you?" he said, holding his promised
wife in bis arms as he said good-bye. "You
aren't ashamed f me, are you?"'
"No, Willie ; but 111 not follow you to
America," Oona said sadly. "I'm going
a. longer journey. O Willie, my heart i
broken. You'll never look on the face of
Oona Connor again ' Good-bye, and may
Heaven forever liloss you !"'
Wiiiie: was p:t.-,hed into the train which
was to t,;ke him to C'otk, and Oona fell
fainting into her father's arms.
Three mouths after, there was a quiet
funeral in the old graveyaid of Clooiiabeg,
an rid tnau and an old woman were tho
only mourners.
Oona Conner was dead, and her last w ish
had been to sleep beside her brothers and
sisters in the lil tie country graveyard she
had played in as a child. There she sleeps,
vviili no cross at her head or stone at her
feet ; but her grave is well known, and the
memory of the events which caused her
death is still green. No one in the west of
Iii-land ban forgotten the Cloonabeg evic
tion. Watting koii a C.vvri. Three or four
days ago, within two or three miles of
this city, a Washington stict mer
chant, who bar! business in lh". city,
came to a small creek, beside which .a na
tive was washing his shirt. Tho man was
sousing the garment up anil down and
around, and as he "soused" ho whistled a
merry tune.
"Do you have to wash your own shirt?"
inquired the merchant, as he halted.
"Not alius, but old Pet has got one o
her fits on jest now," was the ready reply.
"Then you don't agree very well ?"
"Purty well on the general thing. Pet's
kind o mulish, and I'm kind o' mulish,
and when we get our backs up wc crawl off
to see who'll cave first."
"I should think you would want some
ecv.p?"
"I do."
"Why don't you get it, then?"
"That would be caving to Pel, stranger.
She's squatted on the only bit of bar soap
'tween here and Yicksburg. and she's jest
aehin' for me to slide up and ask her for
it."
"And you won't?"
"Stranger," replied tho native, as he
straightened up, "don't I look like a feller
that, would wear a shitt three months afore
I'd cave iu and holler for soap?"
The merchant sided with him. and as he
drove on, the man soused the shirt up and
down and went on with his whistling.
Yichxlurg Herald.
A TitdnFCL SKF.Tfir. Pet a man fail
hi business, what an effect it has on his
former creditors! Men who have taken
him by the arm, laughed and chatted with
him by the hour, shrug their shoulders and
pass on with a cld "How d you do ?"'
Every trifle of a bill is hunted up and
presented that would not have seen tiie
light for months tny.me, but for the mis
fortunes of the debtor. If it is paid, well
and good ; if not, the scowl of the sheriff,
perhaps, meets him at the corner. A man
that has never failed knows h i'', little of
human nature.
In prosperity he sails along gently, waft
ed by favoring smiles and kind worths from
everybody, lie p"i id"s himself on his name
and spotless character, and makes bis
boast that he has not an encnv in the
world. Alas! the change. He looks at
the world in a different light when reverses
come upon him. IIo reads suspicion on
every brow. He hardly knows how to
move or to do this thing or tho other ;
there are spies about him. a writ is ready
for his back. To know what kind stuff
the world is made of, a person must be un
fortunate, and stop paying once in his life
time. If he has kind friends then they
arc niadu manifest. A failure is a moral
seive it brings out the wheat and shows
the chaff. A man thus learns that vvouls
and pretended good w ill are not and do not
constitute real friendship.
Xkw Evert Morning. Here is an ut
terance that has the sunbeam In it : "The
Lord's mercies are new every morning."
What an assurance that is to cany with us
in all our wayfarings through this woild !
The future is always dark to us. The
shadows brood over it. A vail hides it
from our sight. What is tinder the
shadows, what is behind the vail, what is
advancing out of the impervious mist, none
i of us can know. We have no anxious
! question to ask. This is enough for all that
is coming : "The Lord's mercies aie new
every morning." Tho morning- vet
O
break upon us may be heavy w ith storms
No matter ; the meicios will not fad
Come, live a corn fort able, happy and thank
ful life. Don't be cast down with care or
work. Take up each d.y as it comes, cer
tain of this, that whatever it liy upon you
to do or to bear, it will bring new mercies
for uew deeds.
The Family Tkkui A Tic k Stuh r
A toothless couple in one of our ri.:
districts concluded, after much jaw, t! r.'
they would gum it nolot:goi; that, in Lit1
tho family must be provided with ;4 i,c
fet of teth. These worthy pe.ip'm w.-:-i
not civen to ostentatious d;--piay ; tV vl r
lir vd in having sot net h";'1; fur air "t d n
they also f'ii mly lKdie-.ed t! (1. .,-i -; Cu:-.1:
the twain w one l!t?-L, ;,: e- ,,i.i?
pail of spcct;!:ys. l;a-- bo:.i-;. 5
sufficed fort he ii united eti. a!--not
one set of telh woi k e-pial'y w " '
Accon:ifi;ly, those a-ed !nv.i!hs rejMird
to a neighboring de!i'i audio! the tri
umph of mind over matter a set of tcet":
'that will l.Mtr, ,,fr a ,,; nf tobacco for
"father" or tr.ld.V Suvdry caraway am"
chatter bat mlcss o,,S(,j,, f,,,. mother,'" -it:i
equal prer.iMnn ! Life has now fresh rest.
Rod found a new relish, p i lovely and
': lieantiful to fee them at the liM'e round
table ready for dctr.er. "Pir-t, the old
1-vly picks up the teth -thv aie aiv.tvs
lying ab.nit handy slips- th-m in si::d
j makes a good use of her privilege; while
; father is laying up a ge:.er..ns stock of
' provisions on hU plate. Perfectly he leans
back in his chair, puts down his knife r.rd
j fork and says, cheerfully, "CVtr.e, mother,
give n;e the teeth !"' Then the old lady.
w ith tiue conjugal alacrity, totalling to be
; hold, catches them, hands tlieni across tho
j table to the old gonth'inan, who dexterously
claps them in his own nmii'li, and tho
family eating goes complacently on, tilb
perhaps, "mother" comes to a haid spot
and demand the molars. So back and
forth, like a weaver's shuttle, busily j.lv
the teeth, 1:11 tli.-s square meal is ended.
Hot lin-G !'.
(Jon's Way and Man's Way. God
says : Seek yc first the kingd n of beaten
audits righteousness, and .iliearlbly thing
shall be added unto you.
Man says : Seek fi.st worldly wealth and
fame and power; religion you can get on a
dying bed.
God says : Open thy mouth wide, and I
will fill it.
Man says: Let prayer go, and work for
w hat you want.
God sajs: Give and it shall be given ur
to yon ; good nieasuro, ptes-cd down and
shaken together and running over, shall
men give unto your bosom.
Man says : Charity bepliis at home.
Why givo to other that for which yon
have toiled so hard ? Your own family may
want God says: Whatsoever ye would that
men should do to you, do even so to them.
Man says : Each man for himself. L.k
out for number one.
G(d savs: Lay not up fr yonrselves
treasures upon easth, but lay up for your
selves treasures in heave'i.
Man says: Make sure of your woildly
treasures. Heaven is a long vvav off.
God says : Who hath this world's good,
and seeth his brother have need, and shut
tcth up his bowels of compassion for him,
how dwcliuth the love of God in him?
Man says : What gnaiantee have I, if I
give my earnings to the poo;-, that I shall
not come to want myself?
God says: There is that which seaUcelh,
and yet incieaseth.
Man says : It is only by saving ard
hoarding v. bat oi; have that it will
Ciease,
liead-T, ha srtys your conscience ? Is
not God's way belter than man's?
A Stot:y rno-.i Ci.etet.and. A story
co'nes to ns from Cleveland which will I.q
relished hereabouts, where the family
E.t rrc of tho hero is nd unknown. In the
action at Luudy's Pane a Color-el O'Neill
('General" be got to calling bimsi-lf) got a
scratch on hi-; l. g. The wound was a mat
ter r f great glory to hit!?, nnd he nursed it
through after days, growing lamer with
every year, that, thr memory of his bravei y
might be evr r.f-ar him. Gradually, from
sheer pondering rver bis glories, he grew
to think that the success of he battle de
pended hnr.ely on his valuable services
and finally the impression grrw and be
came fixed o-i his mind that Scott was a
mere subordinate to himsilf. One day,
late in life, as he sat musing his leg and
pondering over the glorious p-rst. a young
man visiting the family f ; the lirt time,
approached and syt. pathetically remarked,
"Lame, General." "Yes, sir," after a
pause and with inexpressible Solemn;! v.
"lain lame." "Ps cn i idir.g, ssi ?" "No!"'
with rebuking sternness, "I nave not been
riding." "Ah! slipped on the ice. General,
and hurt your leg?" "N , sir!"' with ac
tual ferocity. "Pei haps yon sprained your
ankle, sir?" With painful slowness the o'd
man lifted his leg in both hands, set it
carefully on the lhor, ro.se slowly from his
chair, and looking down upon the unfortu
nate youth vvbh a state of mingled wonder,
pity and wrath, burst foith in the sublimity
of rage, "Go and read the history of your
com; try, you il tl puppy !" Cihcinrm'i
Time.
Some years ago a Massru huset U man was
elected to i he oOh-e of Lie t -.tenant Govei nor.
When, the fact of his election was announ
ced, he was ealled npoi f r a speech. lie
proceeded to acknowledge lb- horor in vciy
handsome terns, and added that be had no
doubt he should ru ike a giod Lieulena.ic
Governor, as that was the ofilco he L-d
always held in his own bouse.