1 Have Sought Thao. Lava, I have sought for the* long vaart In vain O'sr wastes of barren land and oar tha main . But now thy leva my sweat, aball make U plain. Tia not the cms! voiee of yesterday That bids thee *tay ! In anmtaer aira the awallowa homewatil fly ; They aeek their happy nesta -so fain wonld I— ha flower, in rainless summers droop and die, Bo have I pined through many a weary day, To bid thee *t*y. I hear tha feet of angels down the weet, And in my hear: a yearning half eipr.Miit ltida tnee remain—my .weal, my wedding gneat: 71M peat is passed—l hail the dawning day. Ah, darling, "stay! Re Still! Tia better far to .peak no word at all , Than murmur all iho changing heart may feel' The.weeteat wo .ls m%y eometimee taste like gall And soft hearts turn to citadels of steel! The silent then ate .sfeel too, for anoh Will uever say too little, nor too much. 'Tia better far to leave thy thoughts nneoined In wools, for theu they cannot be purloined. Nor iniied with baser metal, thus to be Palmed ou the public a false currency ! A thought unspoken never loeee poeer Outspoken, it may perish in an hour ! Thy heart i. thine own castle. Look the gate! Ti. tetter far if it be desolate To be sole wilne t of its empty shrine! And if Tis p-xmlcd by a world of thine. Let ti be snout t Who can understand The language spoken in tliat mystic land t If thou must speak, of oiherw .peak but good, Aa of thyself. Let this be understood If thoo canst n't of them a good recall Twere better far that thou didt not apeak at all! Be atill! The silent are the wisest ; such Will never say too little, uor too much ! THE STORY OF A RING. It seamed to ue the moat nnfortauate position in the world. 1 had arrived, about ton minutes be fore, at the house of an aunt whom I hail never aeeu, and who eras sick. I was to be her uurse and companion. Her servant hail shown me into this wretched trap, as I now called it, in anguish of spirit, though it was really a pretty, cheerful little rem, opening by a curtained arch from the parlor, in forming me that the housekeeper would be there immediately to conduct me to my aunt. And here was I, an utter stranger, assisting at a lovers' q carrel. Two persons had entered the room an instant after I hail seated myself. It was twilight, and the limps were not yet lighted. I was wholly invisible, and they evidently imagined themselves to possess the solitude befitting their con versation. "The farce may as well end here," had said a woman's voice at the moment of her crossing the threshold. " For my part, lam weary of the play. I no longer love you, and I will not pretend affection merely to feed voor vanity, which is as limitless as your imperti nence in persisting in attentions that yon see I detest." 11 was the most intolerably proud voice that could be imagined. " I still love you, and von know it. And 1 have far too mnch faith in your former professions to credit the words put into your month by the anger of an unfortunate moment. Ton arc utterly mistaken in your supposition. My love for you is always " Your love for me ! Your love !** with an accent of angry acorn that de fies description. " Never dare to men tion to me again a word that you cannot comprehend. It is an insult to me to hear it—an insult that I will not endure. And to care your apprehension of my repentance, let me tell yon that I, who know the meaning of thus word that you utter so glibly—l love some one else." She stepped swiftly to the window and threw it open. There was an in stant's silenoe. There was audible the rustle of her sleeve as she tossed some thing from her with force. " I have thrown your ring away," he explained, with a twnchalaner in extra ordinary contrast with her former vio lence. " I threw it toward the cistern. Poesibly it has slipped through some crevice or other, and gone down into the water. I hope so. In that case it is impossible that the sight of it can ever again insult me with the remem brance that I have worn it. Permit me to wish yon an exceedingly good even- ing!" It was easy to imagine the mocking reverence of the courtesy she now swept him; then she was gone. Immediately after, and silently, be also left the apart ments They did not go too soon, whoever they were. A cold perspiration damp ened my forehead; I really trembled. The vehemence of the feelings engaged, the certainty felt by the actors of their complete isolation, and mv own inno cent guilt in overhearing, all quite over powered me. Half a miunte did not elapse after the last sound of the gentleman's footstep* before the parlor door again opened, and a prm little woman entered, with a lamp in her hand. She looked in all the corn, ra, as one might search for a dropped pocket handkerchief, and at last |>erceived the new comer. " Ah, miss, I have kept you waiting quite a time, to be sure ! Bat your sunt took a sudden notion to put mustard draughts on her ankles—though Dr. Rich irdaon had just gone, and he never thought of ordering them ! —and have 'em t-be must. And I supposed you'd be o mfortable here." . " Quite comfortable, thank yon. The servimt said yon won).l come presently.' "Well, yon'd best have some tea be fore you see yonr aunt She told me to give yon some. I shall try to find som thing yon like; though what with all these people living about the house that have got no business here—this company, I mean—l don't know whether I am on my head or feet." I received the refreshments she brought me gratefully, after which I was conducted to my aunt's room. Or Moderation for the feelings of other j>eople was Dot one of the old lady's characteristics, and after a few disparaging remarks on my personal ap pearance, I was dismissed for the night. The sun was just risen next morning when I took courage to step outside and look about me. The grass was very wet with dew, but how it sparkled in that fresh light! All at once I stopped and stared about me. There, glitter ing in the grass, lay a ring. I stood like one fascinated, gazing at it very foolish ly, for I knew well what ring it was. Presently I heard some one calling far off, and not stopping to think, I picked the ring np, and ran back to the honse, all trembling. At breakfast I endeavored to discover the hero and heroine of Last evening's dram i. '1 wo of the ladies were sisters, tall, languid blondes, very lieautifnlly dressed, and very dainty. They trifled elegantly with their knives and forks, and carried on airy summer morning flirtations with two gentlemen, who were each dark, and, like the ladies, dressed witlwre a little too exquisite. The third lady, Miss Huntingdon, was a little person, with soft, pleasant, viva cious manners, in whose conversation was always a concealed sarcasm. But it was far too indifferent and too good natured to belong to the lady of last night. Besides, her sweet mocking voice was as different as possible from the deep, passionate tones that had so thrilled me. And of the four gentle men present, certainly not one all re sembled the portrait I had painted for my hero. I was puzzled, and felt sadly guilty again as thought of the ring lying all silently there in my pocket, and carrying everywhere with it a story which I knew and had no right to know. Day followed day, and the days melted FKED. KURTZ. Editor and 1 •ropriotor. VOLUME IX. gradually into weeks. When tho novelty of mv position .M over, it proved not nearly so terrible as it had seemed t first. Annt Ague* mid many harsh tilings, but she did not moan thorn all, and tho goodness of hor heart compen sated in somo measure for tho a*|>entie* of hor tongue. I saw a groat doal of Dr. Kiohardsou. Ho sras more than kind. Ho thought my lifo loroaomo and joyless, and brought mo many books that 1 had longed for, and interested himself in lit tlo things that happened, talking with mo ofton, and alaaya loaviug mo luq*- pier than ho found mo. lint thoro was au< thing that troubled mo tntich. I sometime* faucied -and with unaccountable di-tress—that in l>r. Richardson I had discovered tho uwuor of tho ring. Certain touos of his Toils' piorood mo liko a suddou pain, thov oar nod mo back so vividly to tliat uufortn uato hour in tho dim tittle* alcove. Yot whon I looked into his face again, and into his oyoa, so content, so frankly hap py, this imagination rnoitod into a sweeter droani. Hut it roturuoit again and again, and always with doopor pain. Tho visitors I found on my arrival woro long rinoe gouo. Miss Huutiug don lived in tho neighborhood; and it would, perhaps, be proper to my that wo were oeoom* quits' intimato, hail not all tho talk and revelation been on hor aido. I, for my part, had hail no ad vouturoo, and it soomod U mo not intor oouug to offer thoorios to one who oould narrato facta. One day she upbraided me for my want of confidence, but I really bait nothing to tell, until at last I bethought myself of the story of the ring. " How very curious I" cried Miss Huntingdon, when I had ended, her brown eyes opened wide. " l)o let me see it I shall certainly know it if 1 have ever seen it before." 80 I took it from the case where it lay glittering, and put it into her hands. And it was with a strange foolish pang that I saw her examine it. and heard her chatter concer -ling it. She looked at it with unfeigned interest. "It is really beautiful," she said, "and most uncommon. No, there is not one among my acquaintance that 1 have ever seen wear such a ring. It is the oddest thing ! And it all happened the evening yon arrived I" She had turned quite away from me, and was looking out of the window. 1 could not see her face at all. " Miss Huntingdon," I said, gravely, with an emotion which 1 concealed as well as I was able, " will yon answer me a question trnthfnlly I" " Any question that a friend should ask, I will answer truthfully." She did not turn toward me as she spoke. "Well, then, was it not you yourself who threw this ring away I" Now she did turn, and looked me frankly in the eyes. "Truthfully, it was not L" " Thank yon—oh, thank yon !" Why did" I furtively kiss the ring I Why, if she hail said " Yes," would I, in torn, have thrown it passionately away r Ah ! the reader guesses. It was perhaps a fortnight after that I sat alone at my window watching tLe snu set beyond the hills, white with snow, but seeing it as one sees in a dream. All my thoughts were wai d. ring to ward a happy hour last evening, when Dr. Richardson bail asked me to be his wife. From thence the days fled by like a dream. They were so happy, but so short—that was all 1 had to complain of ; and they too rapidly brought near a day that I longed for and yet dreaded. And—it is a sad confession—for the first time in my life 1 looked at myself nfteD in the mirror. It seemed as if 1 had suddenly grown almost pretty. There was a piuk color in my cheeks; my pale eves had darkened and bright ened. One day—think how foolish ! —1 really leaned over and kissed my own lips; it seemed so delightful to lie a lit tle handsome that L felt grateful to the mirror. " Do not yon wish I were beautifnl !" I said, one afternoon, to Dr. Richard son, with a wistful longing that he should tell me be thought me so. We were standing near the open door of the parlor, just as he was taking leave. " ludeed I do not," he answered, frankly. "I love yon just xs yon are." That was pleasant, bnt not what I wished to hear. " But do not you wish I were as hand some a—as Miss Huntingdon, for in stance!" I persisted.. "Think how bright and laughing her brown eyes are ! And what a gypsy color rises in her cheeks when she is excited ! She looks aflame sometimes." " She does indeed," said Dr. Richard son, smiling; " bnt I am not a salaman der. I have no wiflb that yon should resemble her. Miss Huntingdon is too " "Too excellent tor this world I" cried that lady's laughing voice outside. She had just entered the ball, and stopped a moment at the parlor door. " G KKI afternoon. Dr. Richardson. Is the pa tient np stairs better to-day t lam on my way to see her. I shall not take yon with me, Agnes, in order to earn Dr. Richardson's good opinion over ngnin— for onoe be had a gtsxl opinion of me." Bbe looked np at him sidewi.se aud Unghed. Sho was wonderfully pretty this afternoon—all sparkle and glow. There was an instant's, bnt only an instant's, odd constraint in Dr. Richard son's manner; then he said, quite gravely : " Yon have not forfeited my good opinion, Miss Huntingdon." " The truth is. Dr. Richardson," said Miss Huntingdon, her faoe all lighted with siucy, inward laughter—"the tnith is, yon owe me a debt of grati tnde deeper than yon can ever repay. Tell me now, frankly, if it were not for me would yon tie at this moment the happy man yon are ?" " Frankly, I would not." Dr. Richardson was very wious Even Miss Huntingdon seemed to veil some feeling nnder her gay manner. I was troubled. " Why do you two talk in riddles J" I asked. "Do yon not both know that I have no talent for guessing f" "At least yon shall not cultivate it just now, dear," said Miss Huntingdon. " Dr. Richardson will tell yon when 1 am gone. I must go to your aunt It does her good to scold me." She turned away and moved a step or two, and then looked back with a changed face. "Agnes," she said, wistfully, "would yon mind kissing mo ?" " Mind kissing you ? What a ques tion 1 But yon are not going away immediately ?" " Oh, I don't know. Perhaps I had better bid you good-bye now. She kissed me twice. "Good-bye!" she said. Absolutely the spark in her eyes was quenched in dew! "Agnes," she said, with an odd sort of half laughing seriousness, "if you shonld ever come to think that Ananias was a moral cbaraoter in comparison with myself, it would be impossible for you to love me any more, would it not? But let me assure you, my dear, that some stories are told with the best possible inten tions." Then she left us. " What cau she mean, dear ?" I asked, turning in wonder to Dr. Rich ardson. He led me to the chair I had quitted, and placing me there again, stood before me. " Agnes, she means me to oonfeas to THE CENTRE REPORTER. iwu something that you uood novor isvo known. And yot, iwrhajai, it is bottor that you should. Hue ruoans that 1 ouoo loved hor." Ho wont on talking for a fow minute*, but Ido not know what ho said. My hands woro cold, and objects Iwfore my oyoa wore blurred. Hho hail deceived i .e. It was to hor aud to him t had listened that evening so long. Ho had loved her. I, who hoard him declare it, know tho depth at siucerity in the voice that told her so. Had he sought my love as a solace for the wound that alio hail inflicted f Friend aud lover were both to fail mo ? " Have you nothing to say, Agueo t Why do yott not answer me ?" " Wait for me one moment," 1 re plied, hearing my voice, but hardly re coguiziug it. "I will answer you when 1 returu." I left him abruptly, going slowly up stairs, my heart feeling broken. I got the ring, aud came down agaiu, not trembling at ail, quite quiet, with that dreadful calm which aocepta despair Iu the blind jealousy of the moment it seemed impossible tlist he could r< ally love me, liaviug once loved her. •* It is usual, 1 believe," 1 said, with some sort of a smile, "to break an en gagement by returning a ring. Would you like that ours should be broken so f This is your ring, is it not t" " What do you mean, Agnes f Where did you get this ring!" cried Dr. Rich ardson, iu great surprise. " 1 was iu the alcove there the night that Miss Huntingdon threw it away. I found it in the garden next moruuiß. I heard all that vou both aaid. She has deceived me. She said, when 1 asked her, that this ring was never hers. Aud you have deceived me; you told me tliat you loved me." Iu &uother moment the sob in my voice wonld have given place to miser able childish tears. Hut Dr. Richard son folded me iu his arms and kissed me, laughing. That oomfor ed me more than anv words could have done. " Poor trusting little one!" he cried. " The whole world is in conspiracy against von, is not it I 1 shall play mv rofe to tine end, however, and /wy that 1 love you forever. And cannot you for give Miss Huntingdon f Is not she right when she says that I owe my hap piness to her ? And she may have told the story that grieves yon for the pur {Rise of making us happy. Cannot you forgive her?" Yea When he had talked to me an hour or two, paitieularly when he had reassure,! me as to the grounds upon which I held his love, I freely forgave her. Sitting there in the delicious twi light, with that dear voice sounding so lovingly in my ears, whom and what could I not have forgiven I And then, in the dusk, I heard her light footstep on the stair, and the rustle of her dress. "Come in, dear Miss Huntingdon," I cried, " and let me kiss you once more. I have your ring on my finger, and love yon more than I ever did in my life." And we have been friends all our days until now. The Moon a Bead World. Among the illusions swept away by modern science TH* the pleasant fancy that the moon was a habitable globe, like the earth, its surface diversified with seas, lakes, continents ami islands, and varied forms of vegetation. The logians and savants gravely discussed the probabilities of its being inhabited by a race of sentient Itciugs, with forms and faculties like our own, and even propounded schemes for opening com uiunicat'on with them, in case they ei 1 -.ted. One of these WAS to construct on the broad hnrbland* of Asia a series of geometrical figures on a scale so gi gnntic as to l>e vi ible from our planetary neighbor, on the sup|>sitiou that the moon |>eeiir like sjiota iu the blackness of space. The moon is a deal world; she has no atmosphere. The Claimant Again Mr. Guildford Onslow arul Mr. An thony Iliddntph visited Arthur Orton, the Ticliborne claimant, in Dartmoor prison, the other day, and in the even tug they addressed n small pnblic meet uig. Lord Rivers was absent, from in disposition. Mr. Bidilulph said he was more convinced than ever that the claim ant was hit cousin, and in France, Oermany, and America there was a con firmed belief that a frightful miscarriage of justice had lakeu place in the Ticli borne case. Mr. Guildford Onslow said the claimant, in his degradation, still retained the manner of a true-born gen tleman and the pride of the Tichborne*. The home secretary hod refnaed Mr. Biddnlpb an extension of time in his visit, and he (M. Onslow) promised that he should bring this cruel treatment bo fore the constituents of Mr. Cross in Lancashire, in the hope that they would rememtior it agninst him at the next election. The claimant was in far I sitter health than ihey expected to And him ; for on the last visit it looked as if all hope hail left him. A great change for the better had come over bira, and be was in good health and tranquil in mind, not only in his knowledge of his innocence, but that bis friends would work till he was released. There was no donbt that at the next general elec tion the Tichborne question would be made a hustings cry, and he believed the result would lie the release of the claimant. Novel Jewelry, Thomas Jefferson's great-granddaugh ters, who reside, in comparative j>ov erty, in Florida, have contributed to the Centennial several lieautiful sets of flsh scale jewelry. The material used is tho large scales of certain fish found in Southern waters. These are bleached and then fashioned into the charming brooches, earrings and necklaces now displayed in the Women's pavilion. In beauty of design and finish they rival the airy filigree work of the Swedes or Italians. CENTRE HALL, CENTRE CO., l\\.. THURSDAY, JUNE 21), 1870. The Chinese Question. The ant i Chinese questiou on the Pa ciflo coast has in all likelihood lieen given more prominence than it deserved. Those who uarticijaite iu It are general ly of the brawling class, small politi ciaiia anxtoua to curry fuvor with la borers and artuans whose apprehen sions, esjsvially in a time of commer ctal depression, are always easily aroused, autl aeunation mongers eager to accept the offered opportunity to write up •" China town " nguin aiui invent a few details to suit the t ccusioli, and be hind them all is tlie hoodlum element on the alert for anything which prom ises a riot slid .at occasion for pillage. In the midst of the turmoil raised by these agitators it is mt easy for the voioe of common sense to l*e heard, and principle is very apt to I*< swayed or Silenced by prejudice. Nevertheless, we venture the prediction that if the respectable citiaeua of California ootlld be polletl they would, by au overwhelm iug majority, declare that the present antt Mongolian crusade is aa undesirable as it is unjust. The Bix Oompaniea have, in the.rap i>eal to the President and people of the United States, mode IUI ffeotivr pro-on tatiou of a strong i-iiv, it might have lieen bettered if tli<" MgtHTK had ehiurn to go more into detail. Tliero is, for m stance, not the slightest fear that the Chinese iwi ever become so numerous an appreciably to affect our social or }H> litical institutions. Granted that the same rate of immigration which the hiHxllnuia effect to aouaider a source of danger lie maintained for a century, with allowance for increase by n.itural causes, our Chimme population m PJ76 would only be B,(KM,000 a against how many millions of whitest Beside*, the anti Chinese argument debuts itself, for iu the same breath that it is urged that the Celestial* pour iu here by myriads it is also charged against them that they doii t come to stay and la- Americanized, but as s> n as they have made a little money take it and them selves h> nil* to the flowery kingdom. The positions are inconsistent, and till the Culiforniau* elect to stand ou one we must reject both. The economical considerations of the question hardly merit serious attention. If the Chines*- pay tlnir t-x> *, rents and fares, and earn and purchase that which they wear and consume, the cotumuu ty must be a gamer. If they work for less wages than other people, then there is a saving of capital which wid tlud other investment* and open new flel_. of industry. Inasmuch as the most rabid denunciations of the Chinese come from people who do not work xeept when menuctd .by starvation, the Chinese hare rather the better of the argument. So with the moral and social features of the question.* The prison statistics of California and San Francisco show the average of crime among the Chinese to be lower than among the r< *t of the population. If their residences are pub lie nuisances, why are not the nuiaanccs slutted by those charged with preserv ing the public heallli and morals I Are they auy worse than ncrar of' the qusr teiji frTqueiittvl by other foreign resi dents? Whenever those who now so loudly declaim against Chine*" immi gration are able to answer such ques tions as thine, it will lie time to allow them to take the next step and show cause for excepting one part cular js-o nle from the operation of our laws and competition in our market*. It is by uo mi-ana flattering to our na tional pride that in tin ceut ntual year such a discuisiou as this should le waged, aud that alt the courtesy and cogeqcy t-hould Is* displayed on the side of the uncivilized heathens.— „V> • . £ Time*. The Saltan's Downfall. The tragic fat** Abdul Ar.:' inq st* renewed interest to the story of las full Irotn power. The incident* which at touded hi* overthrow and imprison ment appear to tie as follows : The u bl ister* assembled at the residence of the grand vizier, and di*cn*ed the state of public affairs. They concluded tb it un -lem some radical nun*urea wen* adopt**! general rebellion u:.d a total ooliapse of the state would result. A resolution wa adopted embodying tli.se views, and a petitiou to the sultan was drnwn np praying him to abdicate in order to save the country. The sultan received the ]M'tition with affected composure, and said ho would consider the matter. There was , great pin-nlar domourtra tiou in" the street*. The trade guilds, headed tiy the softs*, marched to the sultan'a palace, tiunpposod by the null turv, who were evidently disaffected. The crowd cheered for Murnd and de manded the downfall of Atkiul Aziz. In the meantime Munul having been re leased from his own house to which he had been confined by the sultan was conducted to the mosque and as Bultan Munul the Fifth. Boon after this, Buleiman Pasha, aocnnqiauiod by soldiers and ofilcers, informed Abdul Aziz that the nation had deposed liirn, and lie should surrender the palace to his suc cessor. The attitude of the troops con vinced Aziz that resistance was UDJSH sible. Accordingly he with his family, . ousehold, and nifty -three boats filled with women left the building, ami were conveyed under escort to the Tcheragau palace. Immediately after bin overthrow re ports were current that the sultan had been murdered. His fate created deep concern in the royal courts of Europe. Queen Victoria took stejm at once to lie assured of hia personal safety. The anx iety was allayed by a telegraphic circu lar from the porte wherein >t was stated that the ex-sultan would tie treated with the oonaiderntiou and honor due to his ¥ arson. The pnvilion belonging to the cheragau palace, on the Boephorns, had been assigned him as a residence. Thia building is a wooden structure, with a tine platform built ont before it to the water's edge. Despite the offi cial assurance rumors have latin current that the ex-sultan would lie sent to Asia Minor, where it would tie out of his power to disturb the government. It may have been fears of tins step, as well as the hostility of the new vizier, which led Alslul Aziz to oommit suicide. The leading iucideuts of his career, in brief, are as follows : He was the se taken with women who ure about to become mothers. 3. In meeting the uncontrollable causes of dis.-a.-e, tlie K|ecial iuilut noe of season deserves particular atteutiou. In Septeuils-r it is right to a