*' LMk at Hmm." Should you feel inoltaed to censure Fault* you may in other* view, Ask roar own heart, ere yon rental*, If that haa not failing, too. Let not friendly now* b*broken, Rather atrive a friend to gain ; Many a word in anger epoken Find* it* paaeage back again. Do not, then, in idle jvleaanre. Trifle with a brother'* fame. Guard it a* a valued tree wire. Sacred a* your own good name. Do not form opinion* blindly, Haatiiicee to trouble tend* ; Thoae of whom we'v* thought unkindly CO become our wanneat friend*. Suppose. I Hal thmpose. Fadette, thai I. instead of keeping tryst With you to-night, had staid away to dose, Or call upon MM* llrast, or play at whit - . Suppose? [She.] Suppose, You bad ? Think you 1 should have oared ? Indeed, Ain't you a bit ooncsi - don't take my rose— A gift to me—from wlnau ? WoU, Joseph Mead, Suppose ? (Ha] Suppose It ia? Then I'm to understand. Fadette— If I must read your words as plainest prose- Sly presence matter* not to you, and yet— Suppose. [She.] Suppose You are to understand me o ? You'rs free ; Do, if you wish I And oh! ths river's froa# ; What skating we shall have ! To-morrow we— That * Jose [He.] Aud Joe* Be hanged. It teem* to me, Sliaa Lowe, that you Are acting rather lightly; rumor goes That he—but *ince 1 *eem to bore adieu!— [She] Suppose - [He] Suppose We say good-night [She. ] 'Gcod-uight air, and good-bye ! [He] What doe* this mean, fadette ? Arv you - [She] Well close This sc. ne at once My word* are plain, sir, 1 • Suppose ? [He] Compose Yourself, Fadette [She] My name Mr. ii Misa Lowe ! [He] Come, come Fadette do look bsyoud your nose. And— [She] Here's your ring, *ir! [He] I receive it though Suppose— [She.] Suppose You do, sir ?—you— [He ] Euoagh, Miss Lowe; Farewell ! Tie beet; I've been deceived in you, God know*' Coquette ! a hearties* flirt! a haughty belle Who chose— [She.] Suppose Oh let's part as friends ! I hate you- there ! [He] Fadette '. why, sweet, in tear* ! This surely shows You'll pardon me a brute ! [She] And Frank, well never 44 CO." CHAPTER I. " Dart, Maitland, Dart k Co." .So the name stood upon the great brass plate ; and in these names hail the business of the bank been piudently and profitably conducted for as many years as the majority of the inhabitants of Highborough could recall. Trade panics hail laid waste many another long-established Arm; bank ruptcy bad swooped unexpectedly upon many a house where wealth had seemed as limitless as here ; but the bank of Messrs. Dart, Maitland, Dart A Co. held its head high above all treacherous waters, and stood unmoved and utterly secure after the heaviest gales hail passed. The name of the Arm was a passport of trust and reliance, as well was a prompt introduction to the first society of the countrv ; and the present repre sentatives were these: Maurice Dart, the senior partner, a handsome man <t to loiter again throughout the day. An hour afterwarvl, Mr. Dart drove up, and with a quiet "good morning," passed tlirough the bank to lu own pri vate room Here presently Mr. Mait laud joined him, and, slaudiug before the Are, dismissal various items of town news—among them, of course, tlie ar rival of the regiment, "Colonel Couyugham haa only one .laughter. We must help to introduce her. Young Dart, having ouce belonged to the regiment, gives it, as it were, a claim upon us." " The colonel's daughter will need but little introduction," remarked Maurice Dart, quietly. C&APTKH 11. " Dart, Maitland, Dart k Co." The names stood unaltered on the great plate; jet—except the sleeping partuer, away in India now—each oue represented by that sigu was perfectly aware that a great alteration had been gTowiutr in himself ernr aiuee Colonel Conjngham and his daughter hail been tiring in Highburough. The strong bank walla no louger limiteil hia hope and am bition. Beyond them stood rerealed a home of love, and ease, and sunshine, bright IT {Kwaible, and in this future the only mission of the good old bank was to furuiah the home with luxury. It was a winter uight. The hank win dows were bolted and harm!, the great books were looked in the truatj safes, and the manager was asleep up stairs, with the bluuderbnss beside his bed. But in his brilliantly-lighted drawing room at home, the senior partner sat alone—a striking-looking man in his evening drees, with the hot-house flower* fading in his coat. The room had been tilled with guest* up to this time, but uow Mr. Dart sat alone before the Are, bnrid in a thought which deepened minute by minute, until the door was opened, ami Walter Maitland re-entered the room he had lately left. •'I could not help coming back," he said, beginning hurriedly to speak, as if the words forced themselves from him in his nervous haste. " There is oue thing about which I must speak to rou to-night—about which 1 have wanted to speak to you a long time. I feel "—he was leaning against the chimney-piece opposite his friend, and looking with in tense scrutiny into his quiet face—" that I have been 1 reaming a dream which a word of yours could a' this moment dis pel. Tell me if a greater kindness than your silence, though the kindness is sure to be the motive of that. Tell me at once. Dart It cannot be very pleasant to you to see my anxiety. Ton are far too good a fellow to feel pleasure in that" "What am I to tell you?" inquired Maurice Dart, withe nt meeting his com panion's eyes. " Surely, yon know. I said to myself when I met Isabel here in yonr house to-night, I would find out if my fears were well grounded; and if I could not discover, I would a-k von for the truth before I left. Dart, end this wearing sus pense on me. It has been growing through all these mouths side by side with my love, and has Decome unbeara ble at last." Maurice raised his head now, and met his companion's anxious, questioning eyes. "I am glad you have spoken, Mait land," be said. "I have guessed at your anxiety, while I have felt my own, and I have often wished to break the silence we have held on this one point I fancied yon bad something to tell me. I fancied so bnt now when I saw yon re enter the room." "Indeed, no," exclaimed Walter, with bis usual frankness. " I wish to Heaven I had. I wish I dared to say that Isabel had given me encouragement enough to make me even hope. And I ooald not ask her to—to love me while I felt that yon knew how useless it would be." " I do not know," returned Dart—his words sounding very slowlv after Wal ter's esgerness, yet all his self-command failing to hide their hew ring of hope. " Isabel has never heard a word of love from me. She is gentle and kind, and willing always; bat I cannot read be yond." " To me, too, she is bright and pleas ant always," pat in Maitland, restlessly, " and I can disoover nothing more. I fancied you could put me' out of one phase of this uncertainty." " And vou are very glad to find I can not," said the elder partner. And then their eyes met, with a smile which was strangely wistful for snch strong and manlv faces. "Dart," said Sfr. Maitland, "you are the elder man—the richer—the better, too. Yon shall speak first. Do it as soon as yon can." " Seniority has no claim in such a case as this," said the senior partner. "We can wait." "lean wait no longer," put in the younger man, impatiently. ".Anything will be better than this suspense. Why on earth shonld we wait ? Isabel knows us both thoroughly now. She knows we are both old for this love of onrs to be anything bnt deeplv earnest. She knows enough of ns and of our positions to make her decision easy to her. So let us know the worst, or—best. Yon have the right to speak first." "I will not take it," said Mr. Dart, sptaking more quickly than he had yet done. "Let us write. Let us write— together." A tew minutes silence, while Walter thought this over—leaning his head on the arm which rested on the chimney piece. " Let that be decided," urged Maurice. "We will write to-morrow. Let her re ceive the two letter* together, that she may think of us both together. Promise me that your letter shall be ready for to-morrow's post." CHAPTER 111. The fire roared and cracked cheerily in the private room at the bank, but □either of the partners had arrived. "I never knew him so late," re marked Tom Leslie, as if finishing aloud a puzzling conjecture. "Who?" Old Dart?" "Mr. Dart—yes." " Leslie feels it incumbent upon him to uphold the dignity of his partners," put in another clerk. " His breast swells proudly with a fellow-feeling." " What an idle set you are this morn ing !" remarked Tom, turning from his desk with a quick, kindly smile which made his face so pleasant to look upon. " As soon as I senior partner I shall give yon all a sweeping dismissal." The listeners laughed, enjoying the absurdity of the idea ; and one or two questioned him, with mock anxiety, as to the treat he intended to stand them on the occasion. Through all the laughter Tom pursued his work, and Dart noticed this when he entered the bank, and though it was but very curtly he answered Tom's quist nesting, jet before he reaohed the inner door he tuned and epoke to him. THE CENTRE REPORTER. " Cool outside, Ijeslie. Keep up good Ares." "It is hard," he muttered to himself, "to pass him without a word." Then Mr. Dart let tlie spriug door close behind lnm, and, sitting dowu IU his oftice chair, leaned on one arm only —as very calm men do wheu tliey are ill at ease, as well as tired. He was sitting so, looking moodily dowu iulo the Are, when Mr. Maitland entered the room. The senior part ner did not turu to greet him, and even when Walter stood upon the rug liesids him he did not venture to meet ins eyes. " Maurice," began the younger man. ' I suppose I may congratulate you. It is rattier hard, vet no one ought to do it so heartily as I—l, who know what a good fellow you are and what—what a wife you have won." A glance of surprise into his friend's face, and then Mr. Dart spoke in a few words, as was his custom : "She hss refused me, Maitland." " Refused you !" Walter repeated tlie words, though j not incredulously. Only truth, he knew, could have weighted them so sadly. " She has refused me, too," he said . " She has never cared for me but as a frieud—simply and only as a friend." j "Iu a few kind words to me," said Mr. Dart, without looking up, "she told me she hail given her love else where. I was trying, when you came in, to prepare myself to tell you, * I rejoice in your happiness, Maitland,' and uow Tou —you come and say tlie same to me." Buried in one long, sad thought, tlie partners in the good uld Arm sat in their silent room, while the work and pleasure of the world went on without But tlie day's duties had to lie gone tlirough, and these were not the men to shun them selfishly. " I suppose we had better settle with Leslie about bis holiday." remarked Mr. Maitland that afternoon, sending to sum mon Tom to tlie uartuera' room. "He ' will lose every glnnpae of summer if be waits longer." "He should not have postponed bis holiday; he had his choice. Well, Leslie, when do you wish to start ?" inquired the senior partner, when Tom entered the room, " You said about tlie middle of Octo ber, and this is the twentieth." "Thank you, Mr. Dart, bat if it would make no difference, I would rather take my holiday from tlie twenty uinth." "Then it is to be hoped yon are going on a visit," remarked Walter Maitland, pleasantly; "for November days are not the pleaaantest for a tourist," " I am not going on a tour, air." Tom hesitated only a moment; then both of his listeners were conscious of a new earnestness in his voice: "I should like to tell yon, gentlemen, why I want my holiday tlieu. The twenty ninth is to lieuny wedding-day." Mr. Dart returned quietly to his writing. Mr. Maitland arose from his seat and moved to the Are, turning his back to Tom. Before the eye* of both the partner* there hovered a face which had led them, too, to dream of a puaaible wedding-day—dreams from which they had so latelr been awakened. It would ie hard, with these memories rising back, to talk to their favorite clerk of his good fortune; yet it was not in Walter Maitland'a nature to let any sel flah feeling prevent him. "Indeed, Lealie," he said, "I am surprised; but very glad, of course, to hear it I prognosticate every happiness for your wife. Of course I cannot do so for you until I know who she is." " You know hw well, gentlemen," said Tom, flushiug. " Her father. Colonel Couyngham, is my mother's cousin. We have rarely visited them, except when they were alone, because—at my moth er's cottage, of conrse—we could not entertain their guests. We hare always been—as old friends ami relatives should be; and I have always loved Isaliel. But it was necessary for tis to wait a lit tle. Though it would be difficult for you to realize the fact, gentlemen, a marriage is an expensive debt"— "Toucan go, Leslie," remarked Mr. Dart, without nosing his head. " And the holiday, sir ?" " Take your holiiiay when yon choose; only don't make such o fuss about it." "And is there nothing more yon in tended to say to me, Mr. Maitland ?" in quired Tom. "I should say,"* remarked Walter, with a jealous anger iu his eyes, " it is an irreparable mi-take you are making to marry on your <>wu income, unless you had chosen a wife in your own po sition ami used to snch a life as your mother's." " Mv mothei s life was snch a life as Isabel's, at Isabel's age," said Tom, and for a moment his face was really hand some in its flush of honest pride; "and [aabel has knowu what mr mother's life is for many a year past. Would I many her under any false pretenses?" " I presume, then, that Mias Convng ham knows the extent of yonr income ?" asked Maitland, with compressed lips; "or have you, in yonr foolery, been representing yourself as a partuer in this hank ? Her eye* are open to the folly of what she is iloing, eh ?" " She known everything, sir," rejoined Tom, his eyes mnch puzzled, and a little angrv; " and she does not call it folly." " Ifon can go." The clerk left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. " Thex must have had liarrassing let ters," he said to himself, trying to ao count for the partners' impatieuoa. j "They have a good deal of anxiety which we subordinates are sparod." And thinking thin he took liis sent and wrote away more diligently than ever, while hia fellow-clerks wondered over his mood. " Leslie ought to go." Those were the words which at last broke the silence of the room which Tom had left " Yes." Then the clay's work, went on to its close, and the partners, separating on the bank steps, went their several way* thinking very longingly of one to whom both had been faithful. This was the first night for many mouths which either had spent without these bright, vague dreams of what his home might be with Isabel at its head; and their hearts were filled with resentment against the win ner of the prize which they hail coveted. " Yon knew this morning that Bhe was to marry some oue else; why should your thoughts lie harder, now that you know who has won her?" Ho a vote* seemed arguing with them, but below all the angry thoughts surged on. " For him to be the one to gain her— he a paid servant in the bank !' CHAPTER TV. When Mr. Dart reached the bank next morning, worn and harraased after his sleepless night, be found thst Maitland, contrjry to his usual custom, hail arrived before him.- Though the two friends greeted each other as nsual, most unusual silence settled presently upon them both. Eventually the senior part ner, making an effort, remarked on the ooldness of the weather, and his com- E anion, putting down a letter which he eld, answered leisurely. But his pleasant blue eyes were rustles* and rather dim, and the moment the answer was given the silence wrapped them both at once. For an hour the offloe clock had ticked a solo in the quietness, when Walter Maitland rose slowly from his eh air, CENTRE HALL, CENTRE CO., PA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1877. with the Timet unfolded tit Ilia hand, and, lotting the paper fall, came and Blood upon the rug Imvu.lo hie friend, who had just re-entered from the bank. Very gently be laid laa hand u|hiu bta senior's shoulder. " Dart, old frieud I I want to speak a few words to you iu great uaruesUieas. Miuce we met yesterday tuoruiug, 1 have grown to feel quite certain of one thing —quite. The time has not iu reality been very long, but it aeeiued so, anil gave m plenty of opportunity for thought; and wliat 1 have grown to feel so aure of ia this : 1 shall never marry now." " Nor I," replied Maurice, meaning it aa men do not often mean the phrase, though thejr utter it as Aruily. "I—fancied not. Now we are both wealthy men, IHurt," continued Walter, bravely and gently, " and tins wealth we offered a dav or two ago, to lsal>el Couyugham. You guess what 1 am going to aav ? Shall she benefit by our —love for Ler ?" The senior partner looked tip slowly, questioning. A thought which hail lwen haunting him all night made tlie full meaning of these words quite plain to lum. "Yea, 1 see you have felt this," re sumed Walter, quietly, "just as I have felt it. 1 aee that my words only came aa an ending to your thought I under stand how it put it self to you. Leslie has invested all his father's saving*—all his patrimony, aa one may say —in our hank, and spends his whole .lav* here moat conscientiously, must trust worthily. All he draws for this cannot keep a house which we—vou aud I—like to pic ture as Isabel's Lome, Aud then his mother has to be provided for. You think. Dart, that it would not hurt ua, and could not make any difference to Captain Dart, who haa no voice in any bank matter*—if Lealie hail power to draw what would keep them more com fortablv. In abort —in short, old fellow! you would make him equal partner with me." "With onreelvesk," said Mr. Dart, shortly—"with ourselves, you rncau? If we were all equal partner* " " Ltd us discuss it this afternoon. Think it over till then. Maurice " put in Walter, feeltug that tlie senior partner should have time to make his decision ; " we will talk it over again." The discussion a duly held that afternoon, in the partner's private room; then Tom waa summoned to hear the result of it Though not a long inter view, it was one impossible to describe —for how oould any words show the utter failure of Mr. Dart's efforts to maintain hia grave reserve through Tom'a extravagant, boyish, humble, proud, ridiculous gratitude 1 Or describe Wal ter Maitland's persistent (though always disregarded) assurance that, as Mr. Dart had decided to make this arrangement, he was very glad to accede to it ? And, after that interview who oould repeat the limitless promises Tom made to his fellow clerks when he told tliem of his marriage Or tell how he reached home iu half his usual time, aud put lus arms around his mother, with his eyes full of tears—just aa if he had been thirteen instead of diirty ? But, above all, who could describe Isabel's mute, wondering gratitude to the two men she had given such pain ? "I am very, very grateful Tom, alie said, appealing to Inn with tears thick upon her laahea ; "bat I would rather not talk abont it—yet. Let me have time to think of it" Quick to understand her wiah. and delicate in carrying it out, Tom left Isabel, delighted that his news had moved her so, yet wondering over it s little, too—because the secret of the partners was so safe in the keeping of the girl whom they had—not unworthily loved. But hardest of all would it be to dr-seribe how brilliantly before Tom's eves that night there came a vision of tiist identical brass plate, which really met him face to face, when, after his •• holidays,"be flrwt reached the heavy, familiar door* of the Highborough hauk ' Dart, Maitlaml, Dart k Leialie." " Co." was no mum. TlUt Awfal Bat. There may l>e people into whoae bod room windows bats liave not down this summer, the summer lusfore, and all the other summers as far back as they own remember; but we doubt it We doubt, further, that there be people who, when the bat arrives, have not risen in their night garments of sum mer style, and turning high the gas pursued tliat bat with pillow and canes and even chairs, arousing the family in terror of assassins and giving the man on the other side of the street , who is up with the toothache, a strong suspi cion that Kirkbride has established a branch asylum in their honae. Bats have been knocked down under these circumstances; also have thins been smashed and shins skinned ; but man, in the ead, hna been victorious over the bat~-n6vcr. If he picks him up with bis finger* he lets him go again imme tw " an< * drops him out one windfftkbe bat soars into the air and flies in" at auotlier. The bat cannot lie Esraoa led to go away. He can't takes ink Let bun alone an l he'll go home and carry, etc. The bat, they say, is good for eating the night hugs which are always so much interested in what one is writing about But whether the huge were made so long before the bat, and increased so much ahead of him i that ha hasn't had a fair show, or his ap petite is not powerful, there are plenty ,of bugs yet to transact business. Let the bat look at the sparrow and liow . nobly he fulfilled his contract with re gard to the measuring worm. The ! sparrow, too, is nn etoellent bird, with • only one bad habit, that of getting up too'carly in the morning, while the list is afflicted with every wickedness, ami doesn't get up early <>gly because he doesn't go hi bed.— Philadelphia Prct. A IMIc of Antietam. After the battle of Antietam, F. B. Reynolds, of Company F, Eighth O. V. 1., from Clyde, Ohio, was reported among the missing. Nothing ww ever heard from him, and hia friends gave lum ill) for dead. Recently a man in Sharplumrg, Md. t who is something of an amateur antiquarian, and is getting up a muneum of relies of the Indian and other periods, had brought to him a eioket looking-glass, which hod been und in the grave of an unknown soldier on the battle-field of Antietam. The caae was made of laurel, and on the inaide oontained Mr. Reynolds'name and former residence. The gentleman im mediately communicated with the post master at Clyde, and sent the relio home to the friends of the deceased, accom panied by a very feeling letter. The Newspaper. What a comfort is the newspaper! says a writer. How small ia the sum that is required to patronise a paper, and how amply remunerated ia ita patron, I care not how bumble and unpretending the gazette which htdtakes ; for it is next to ! impossible to fill a sheet with printed matter fifty-two times a year, withont inserting weekly some information that in itself is wortn the subscription price. ' A newspaper is a history of current events as well as a copious "and interest ing miscellany, and which youth will I peruss with delight when they will read nothing else, A ROMANTIC MATCH. a Feer Utafrr Win. ■ Ulrb Il**(h. ler The Father's Kaas t ll***i taSli*. A aeorot courtship, an elopement, an al*luction, a narrow csemjie from a trage dy au.l a happy ending the story of all tliia, which haa juat happened at North A.lama, ia another of uioac romances of real life, which are etnuiger than Action. Mr. H. P. Goodrich ia an old c'tiaeu of North Adama, Maae., aud ia highly respected. He haa a handsome proper ty on which he live*, having retired from buaiucaa. He has also a haudaome .laughter, Mies Nellie—cultivated, at tractive, a great favorite in all the vil lage aud her father'a idol. Home weeks ago a young mail named Moury came into North Adama aa a workman on the railroad. Ho far as j known he was a man of good habits, but J lita social positron was, of course, that of anv .lav-laborer. Iu some way he aud Miss Nellie met, aud an attachment 1 sprang up lietweeu them, which for some time was kept a secret. Hut it I soon became known that this railroad laborer was tlie accepted lover of one of | the belles of North Adams. The girl's father wa* very angry. He . told Moury, with much excitement, that he must cease all further attentions, and he also told his daughter that she must no longer Lave anything to do with Moury. Hut the only effect of his warn ings waa to make the meeting of the lov ers more and more secret Mr. o***l - kuew that attentions were still be ing paid clandestinely, and meeting Moury one day in Ryan's grocery store, threatened to shoot him if he persisted in them. A few davs after this meeting Muu Ooodrteh told her parents that she u going to spend the day with an aunt who lived a ahort distance from North A. la inn. She dul not return ia the eve ning, and growing anxious, the father went to the aunt's house and found that liia daughter had not t*en there at all that ilar. Suspecting what had hap peued, he rushed to the railroad depot, aud found tliat Moury, too, had been away that day. The father waa almat frantic. He oould not learn where hia daughter had gone; there waa nothing to do but to return home and wait. It ia aatd that in his frenzy he had determined to about both Inn daughter and the young wan when they returned. It appears that the girl, when alia left her home, took the can for Pownal, Vermont, and that Moury followed her. They were married that day. A day or two after, Moury took hia bride to a relative's, who ltred in Cheshire, Massa chusetts, and leaving her there, returned to North Adaraa, and to hia work, do ing back to Cheshire, a dar or ao alter, he found hia wife gone. Her father hail learned where she was, and going there one evening, bad forced her to return home with him. He did not take her to hia own house, however, and Moury was unable to (bid her. The husband did not know what to do. He was satisfied that hia wife was somewhere in North Adams, and that, aa she was of age when she married him, he liad a right to her if he could find her. The father, however, was unyielding, and matters continued in this condition for several days. At length the father aaw that he cotild not permanently separate man and wife; he was, moreover, rather pleased with the manner in which boUi Moury and his wife conducted themselves. A few days ago he relented, and yielding hia daughter to her husband, gave them hia blessing and atarted the jur in life with very material assistance. The Chinese JSM and Temple. A traveler writes : We enter a temple whose outside ts adorned with gilding and lacquer, nisi quaint designs of birds, siuinals and unreal monsters. They have a religion of some sort, a Wang Heug i a very intelligent Chinese with whom I am acquainted) assured me, with churches ami endowments as in England, that is to say, thev have the syetem, but not the faith. I iiad suppoeed all along Uiat the curiously constructed temples, sacred to Joss, had more or leas of a religions character almnt them, but I was now undeceived. My habit on pass ing thcee edifices was to call in and sea j what was going on, and one day found out that Joss was nothing more titan a fortune-teller, after the manner of the Oracle of Delphoe. When inaide the temple we see the figure of Joss placed on nigh, with ornaments of peacocks* feathers, whilst long stnvuucrs of colored ribbons, pictnrea ami flowers; presents of tea, oil or opium ; lighten! tapers m colored warn ; joss sticks burning slowly and sending their perfume around; heaps of joss paper smouldering in trays ; hsinbuo boxes with biuidlea of small sticks on one end of which are itiarnlied certain calialistic characters, surround the figure. At certain hours in the morning the temple becomes sacred. It is the hour of divination. Any one now about to undertake a journey or make a purchase, and deaimus of knowing if he will arrive in safety or make a profit able investment, ootuea to Joss. He pays his obeisance by profoundly bowing and salsaining; then lights a certain numlier of matches or tajiera and makes j a present. After a while, when it thought Joss is conciliated, the suppliant takes a . box of marked sticks, and, after ahakiug tlieni alxnit. selects half a dor-en, and pass- , ea them to the priest or Bheong-to (son of heaven) in attendance, who refer* to the lxiok of mysteries and there read* the will of JOSH. If he is warned of misfor- j tunc he forliears the journey or declines the bargain, and waits for a more fortunate ilay. If Joss advise* otherwise, and a good profit the result, the happy merchant makes a substantial present j Joss is, therefore, as will bo seen, a fortune-teller and nothing more, and ' Sheong-ti is only a sensible, cunning fellow, who prefers to live by the credu- ; lity of his neighbor rather than by the labor of his hands. An English Astrologer, An aged astrologer was convicted in North Devon, England, about the mid dle of August. He was charged with " using certain subtle craft, moans or device by palmistry ami otherwise, to deceive ami impose on certain of her majesty's subjects." Elizabeth Saunders hail been ill. Doctors bad been of no avail, and finally her hnahand sent for *'The White witch." He went to the house, felt her pulse, ami said ho did not know whether he could do her any good, as he was only au humble instru ment in the hands of God. He gave her four or five roils in succession, with which she tapped a pieoo of iron held by her in the other baud, while lying in bed. At the end of the rods were the names of different planets, such as Jupiter and Mercury. He also aaked the age of the woman, and the hour alio was bom, saying he wanted to find out under what planet she was bom. He gave her some bitters to take, bnt she died a few days afterwards. The defence was that the rods and piece of metal were a rode means of nsing electricity, by which means the defendant had made many cures, but no explanation was given a* to the meaning of the names of the planets. It was stated that " The White Witch" charged the woman twenty-five shillings for his services, stayed in the house five hours, and hail a glass of rum and some biscuits. He was sentsooed to a month's imprison ! meal. FA KM, HARDEN AND lIUThEHOLD. I'r.Bl.blr tars UrtwlM. The average yield of the corn rn is about twenty-seven bushel* per acre fur the whole country. Thu lucludea the large yield of the rich prairie Htate* where *ll average of forty to flffjr buali el i>er acre i* usual. la the Eaatero, Middle Mild Southern Htm lea, the yield ia very low aud on the whole due* not surpass fifteen huahele per acre. Yet in isolated cases in theae State* many good farmer* produce • seventy, eighty or even one hundred huahela per acre, and many ambitious farmers are trying to reach a higher limit yet. This ia not at all impossible; it ia not eveu improba ble. It ia reasonable to go further aud asv that the very high yield ia not at all { difficult to attain. Indeed it ia very i easy to figure out a crop of one hundred bushels of shelled corn per acre, and we do not think it much leas easy to reduce the figuring to practice. Thus if we can grow three stalks to a hill, with the hills three and s half feet apart, we have 3,700 hills and 11,100 stalks per acre. Xjf every stalk should bear one good ear there would be 11,1(10 ears per acre. One hundred good eara weighing twelve ouucee each would giTe one bushel of shelled corn. There/ore tins crop would amount to 114 boahele per acre. The only requisite for this pro fitable crop then, is that we should raise s variety of corn that produces no barren stalks and that will carry one good ear only upon every stalk. This seems to be a very simple matter, but many fanners would be surprised to learn how small a proportion of stalks in their fields cany even one ear. We have been selecting seed, and by all other means have been endeavoring to grow ourii that should produce two good ears per stalk, and yet we hsTe not succeeded w growing any that will on the average produce more than one ear tor every two stalk*. With the caay possibility of reaching one hundred j bushels per acre if only fertile stalks were grown, yet fanners look upon one who talks uf such s crop as too eutliuai- - aatic, if not foolish. It seems as though we had I>eeu all this tune pursuing a wrong nlea, or following* wrong course, aud neglecting the most palpable and plain i*th to success. It ia not to fer tilise our ground so richly as to grow luxuriant stalks with two or three cars each in place of one; but to grow mod erately sued stalks, each having an ear j ui place of those with none. In passing through s fair-looking field of corn s number of stalk* with out esia will slwsrs be seen. It ia these that dilute stu*l lessen the value of the crop. Can we get nd of these by any means ? It is certainly our busi ness to do it if possible,*] u*t as we should weed out of our yards hens which lay no eggs, sows which produce no litters, cows without calves or milk, and mares without foals ; or cut out from our orchards trees that yield no fruit. As no farmer would tolerate such worthless stock so he should not tolerate barrenness in hi* cornfield. Ame incorporated with the oil by means of a gentle heat. The composition may then be laid on calico, or any other such material, by means of a brush. Fashionable Emulation. Lady (speaking with difficulty)— '• What have you made it round the waist, Mrs. Price ?" Dressmaker Twenty-two inches, ma'am. Yon couldn't breathe with less." Lady—" What's Lady Lemina Jones' waist ?" Dressmaker—"Nineteen and a half just now, ma'am. Bnt her ladyship is a head shorter than you are, and she's got ever so much thinner since her illness last summer!" Lady—"Then make it nineteen, Mrs. Price, and I'll engage to get into it." Prefer loss before unjust gain; tot that brings grief but euoe, this forsret, TEHMB: 02.00 a Year, in Advance. *l*l, JOHN OF ETHIOPIA. nfc.lrk ml mm Afrtraa Hl.*'. NplaaSer Ifcl i O.I.SIMF. Iks irsMui Nl*kt*--A Mai - kartr M*a*ai. trnaa Ik. LuaSoa ■■*.!nr) King John of Ethiopia is a sinking and picturesque j •craotiage. As Kaaaa, Priuce of Tigre, claiming equal descant with Theodoras from King Koiomua, he figured largely in the Blue books which , formed an exceedingly interesting but i little read history c 4 the *Teut* which S receded the Abyasiuian expedition; and tat impression is deepened by the ao ■ count gl ran by Mr. de Cuaaou—who, to company with' the late (Jen. Kirk ham, visited king John at his camp, near Goo ihr, the ancient capital uf Abyssinia, in 187S—of th* king and his surroundings. > The country, it* people, their wives, aud their faith, are not like any uf the Alii . can type* ui other portion* of the con tinent. They remind us of the Ok! Tes tament Scriptures; the whole picture ia like that of the tribes and the feuda which we find in the book of (Jeneais and the book* of the Kings. Long be fore the king is reached, the traveler hears tales of him--his *tmigtlf, his nudum, and his prowess in war. At Aium, the former capital of Tigre, be is shown the great monolith, seventy feet high, aud told how Kaaaa used to cast Lia heavy spear over it—a great feat ;to do with an ordinary lance—and still practises this exercise when he comes to Axum. There is little disposition to " forward " a traveler, the disposition to keep their country free from the stranger being as strong as ever in the Abyaaiaua, but the king promises his help sod pro tection to all who shall be properly recommended to him by the French con sul at Maaaowah, and the reluctance of intervening personages has to give way. Wiieu Mr. de Cueaun had taken pus araaioo oi his tent, near the monarch's enclosure, the king sent him two jars full o( s dreadful drinkable called ledge, fifty " breads," an antekuie'a born full of salt and pepper, and a live ouw, which was killed and cut up before his eyes,and I the meat piled up inside the tout. He subsequently visited the house of Mar cher, one of the king's interpreters, which was, like all the Abyaaian houses, constructed of wood and branches, and there he saw s pretty sight, that of Mur cher's horse forming one at the family circle. The beautiful, intelligent animal was lodged in a little thatched stall open ing into the bouse, bis neck adorned with a handsome chain, his food and drink given him at regular intervals in s clean earthen dish, the oorn being the same as that at which the household breed was made; he was regarded sa a cherished friend and comrade. After the j rivihUe* of the king's interpreters, oame the good offices uf the lung a cook, who i sent the honored guest four dishes of curry. The king's cook, who also acts aa taster, ia a great personage; he must lie a priest, must hare always led an irre proachable life, and is never permitted to marry. Next day at dawn oame cine at the officers " Liaamanguaa," splendidly dressed in a robe of flowered silk, with j an India muslin tuaru, and silver mounted pistols in his a**h, to inquire after the traveler's health in his majesty's name. He was one of those who have tlie privilege of wearing the same drees as his sovereign, and the dangerous die- j traction of going into battle similarly j armed, ao that the roval person may not lie distinguished, Early in the after noon came Maderakal. another interpre ter, attended by an can aire, bearing the royal sward and shield, to conduct the stranger to the brag's banqueting hall. Drams and trumpets rounded; a astute i was fired from s battery of brass bowit- j sera ss tlie guest entered tlie wooden, rush-roofed building, of oblong form and vast extent, with a double colonnade of tree trunks leading to the oenter, where, on a divan, raised high aud draped with ' purple velvet,sat King John of Ethiopia, ' cross-legged, a pair of English rifles, ; cocked and loaded, resting on the cush ions to left and nght of him, and his slippers of solid silver filagree on the carpet before him. By his side was a beautiful sword, with a sheath at velvet and enamel; on his head the great triple crown of Ethiopia flashed with gold and jewels; his robe was a cloth of silver, sad over bis brows hong a long veil of crimson silk, worn under the crown and falling in heavy folds ronnd the face. The barbaric splendor of that scene was perfect in every respect. Here are Mr. de Ooasun's words, which fall, he aava, far abort of hi* impress ma*: •' On either aid# of the throne stood two gigantic eunuchs, clad in shirts of purple and green silk, and holding drawn sabres. , A swarthy guard of honor, dressed with 1 equal magnificence, stood also with drawn aabrea. behind; while all around crowded the great officers of stale and noted warriors, in long robes of silk and velvet of every color, the scarlet scab (tarda of their swords gleaming with gold and silver filagree, and their necks adorned with the skins of the lion and black panther. The air shook with the wild notes of the trumpet# and the roll of the drums." When Mr. de COM* reached the throne and bowed. King John shook hands with him, and bade him waloome. Then the whole company seated them selves on the carpets (some which our queen had sent to Kosso, Ponce of and the next arrival was of special in terest It was that of Has Wsrenia, who bail ruled over all Amhara as an abso lute prince until subdued by King John. He presented a moat striking figure as he walked nn the center of the hall, a rifile in one band and a richly ornament ed ahield in the other. The conquered Has, tall, stout, very handsome, wore a splendid tippet of black panther skin, enriched with clasp* and bosses of gold filigree, which the king bad just given him; a robe of the rtebaat silk; on his { right wrist a silver-gilt gauntlet, studded with gems—an especial mark of the king's fsvor; a splendid sword, sad his ' carefully plaited hair was covered with a thin piece of white muslin, attached by a golden pin. His feet, like those of all present, were bare. Among the wild j ana splendid crowd was a veterau war rior, the oldest of the king's personal attendants, whose ninety years had not dimmed the fire in his' dark eyea nor bowed the gaunt, tall figure, almost as . straight as the silver matchlock in his hand, whose gray beard mingled with the tawnv mane of the lion's skin thrown over his shoulder, and whose looks were bound with s silver crown. It is difll oult to imagine this splendid assemblage sitting about the throne of the king, who is a great soldier, a just judge, and a powerful ruler; of distinguished and re fined appearance, a fine horseman, a master of all athletio exercises; alike learned and practical in his religion, in terested in other countries, and unques tionably the ablest prince who has been allotted to his own; and after an Arabian Night-like incident—i. the peeaing of a long line of slaves bearing on their heads baskets covered with red cloth, containing flat cakes called " tef," of of which they deposit one before each of the principal guests—all the effect of the beautiful ana poetical scene being dispersed by the follotring proceedings. Meanwhile several cows had been slaughtered on the threshold of the hall, and large hunks of the raw and smoking meat were placed on the baakets, the stranger guest being first served. Two attendants then went round, one dis tributing knives from a oase be carried at his side, and the other offering an antelope's horn full of mixed salt and NUMBER 35. red pepper, for tu to season the meet with. All the company then set to, end began to devour the raw eow'e finch with the greatest avidity." Thia barbaric banquet, with all its sooeaaoriaa of silken i robes, lmautiful weapons, delicate fabric*, rich gems, dark, handaomc faces with gleaming eyes and teeth, and braid ed hair, the aoans a camp, and the guests fierce warriors, a conquered chieftain, and an English officer. la a combination ; whereon to exercise the lireliaat fancy. ftnlaad. Finland, which rightly handled, might be one at the oar's richest poa sessions. in now after urerly seventy years' occupation, as an profitable m ever. Throughout tlie, whole province there are only 898 miles of railway, i'ust-roads, scarce enough in the South, are abaolutely wanting in the North. Steam navigation on the Gal/ of Bothnia extends only to Uleaixwg, and is, so far ,as I oan lean, actually non-existent on the great lakes, except between Tanas thstu and Taimnerfava. Such is the state at \ land containing boundless water-power, <* witless acres of fin# timber, oountleas ship loads at splendid granite. Rut what oan ba expected at an untaught population under 2,000,000 left to themselves in an unreclaimed country nearly as large as France? Hdaingfora can now he reached from 81. Petersburg, via Viborg, in fburisau and a half hours ; but what la ana each line to the boundlees emptiness at Fin land ? The fearful leasee at 1800 will not be easily forgotten, when all the horrors of famine wen let kmee at ones upon the unhappy province. Heed-corn was exhausted; bread became dear, dearer still, and then failed altogether. Men, women and children struggling over anCwy moon and fsoxen lakes to ward the distant towns m which lay heir only cbanoe of life, dropped one by one on the long march at death, and ware devoured ere they were cold by the pursuing wolves. Nor did the aurvivora fare mncfa better: acme reached the haven at refuge only to fall dead in Ha very street*. Others gored themselves with unwhohaaau food, and died with it m their months. Fields lying waste; villages dispeopled: private houses turned into hospitals; ferer-parched .keletona tottering from the doors at overcrowded asylumn; children wan dering about in gaunt and squalid naked ness ; crowds at men. framed by pro longed misery, and ripe for any out rage, roaming the streets night and day —such were the scenes enacted through out the length of Finland during two months and a hall But better days are now dawning on the aflMslH land. Beads and railways are being pushed forward into the interior, aad the ffl ] judged attempts formerly made to Bus maniac the population have given place to a more conciliatory policy. Lectures are being delivered at Heiungfore. and extracts from native works read, ir the aboriginal tongue; that it is betug treated with special attention in the great schools of Southern Finland ; that there has been some talk of dramatic representations in Finnish at the He!- idngfors theater. Bueh a policy is at onor prudent sad generous, and far bai ter calculated to bind together the heterogeneous raoea of the empire than that absurd " Pan-Slavism," which is heat translated as " making every one a slave. "•— lAppinaotf* J tayaims." Last far Twenty-eight Tears. It does not often occur that hrothera \ live twenty eight years in ignoranoe at each other's wbereabonie and then are brought together bychanns. Dr. Stark, who uvea in Cincinnati, waa bora ia the city of Tnrnowiu, Prussia, where has mother and relatives am still maiding. Twenty-eight years ago his younger twother, Henry Hermann Stark, for nome misdemeanor, was chastised by his father. Henry waa eight years of age at that time, and boy-like took the punish ment so mnch to heart that he ran away from borne. No cue could obtain a trace at the muwfng lad, though diligent search was made. Ten yean later hia folks beard that he was living in IVris with a family named Pappenhetm, who had adopted him and were educating him as one of their children. A few years later all trace of the runaway was ■gain lost, and when the elder Stark ■bed, about sine years ago, hat widest found herself, under the law at Praams, unable to aril any of her deoamd haw- j land's property on account of the last son. Meanwhile Dr. Stark had grown to manhood, came to Cincinnati, and began the practice of medicine, mace which i time he has, by his skill and energy, built up a lame business. About ten months ago be fell in with a gentleman from Loo don, who waa vuutiag Cincin nati. In the oouree of their oonveraa tiun, one day, the Englishman acked him if he had a brother bring in Lon don. Dr. Stark answered in the nega tive. The Englishman said that, he asked, for the reason that he knew a physician in London who locked as mnch like Dr. Stark an though they were brothers. When the Englishman went back to London he earned with him a photograph of Dr. Stark for Use purpose of showing it to the London physician, whom he employed professionally in hia family. Thia physician's name, by the way, was Henry Hermann, Three months ago Dr. Hermann wrote to Dr. Stark and asked for a history of hia family and pedigree. Dr. Stark replied, setting forth in fall his family history, and among other things, narrated the story of jits l°*t brother. By return mail he received a letter from Dr. Her mann in which he stated that he waa the lost brother and that he would imme diate lv visit hia mother in Prussia. That visit has been made, and he ia now est route to this country on a visit to Dr. Stark. After he left home he dropped hia family name and retained only Henry Hermann, by which hei was ever after known. A Inel with Rawhides. Dueling, grave a subject as it ia, haa its absurdities that provoke a smile. None, however, strike us more strangely than the singular mode of dueling among the natives of Kordofaa, Africa, diving satisfaction the.e iaa serious matter. When two men appeal to tfie code to settle a quarrel, it ia not an affair of awuids and pistols. The two repair to the place chosen, generally some open ground. The friends and kindred as semble, and all is made ready for the combat The preparations are simple. They consist in an angareb, or crib, an either aide at which the duelists are plaoed, each armed with a lash made of hippopotamus leather. Then an at tempt is made to arrange the matter. If thia fails, the one who has drawn the first fire lays on his rtral with all hia strength. *He receives it without wino l ing, and deals as good a blow as he gets. Lash follows lash, on neck, dhouldera, sides—but not on the head—drawing blood, and lacerating the flash. But, intense as the pain may be, mo expres sion or groan ia given. The spectators is equally silent, and th# buttle goes on till the rawhide dropa from the nerve leas grasp of one of them. Hie victor then throws his down, they shake hands, declare themselves satisfied, and the ?[ carrel ia ended. Friends men care or them, wash their wounds, and drink deep of martita. or bear, in hoc or of the uaflinoblng duelists, Wiirdisi n# WlaiiftM vv ePs WW milHwWs That thee mavwt injure ao SMB. deve-kka ha, And aarpsat-ttka, that aooa may Injur* ttwa. Choose jwtr friend early because Ufa {* aboil Of all the paths that lead to a woman's lova, pity is the straightest History makes haste to record great deads, hut aftea neglects good onea Provision ia the foundation at hospi tality, and thrift ia the fuel of magmfi- OffiOcS. There ia nothing truer than phyakig aomy, taken in connectiou with misuar, What ia becoming ia houaal and whatever ia honest, must always be be coming. The flights of the human mind are not from enjoyment to enjoyment, hut from hope to hope. The seeds of repentance are sown in youth by pleasure, but the harvest is rasped in age and pain. Would they oould sell us experieuee, though at diamond prioes—but then no one could use the article seooud-hand. Frequent disappointments teach ns to mistrust our own inclination*, and shrink eran from vows our hearts may prompt Happiness is in teste and not in things audit ia by having what ws love that wa are happy, nod by having what others find agreeable. * There is ia every human countenance either a history or a prophecy, which must sadden, or at least soften, every re flecting observer. The world ia ail title page there ia no enu touts; the world ia all lace; the man who allows hi* heart ts booted for bis nudities, and scorned The bird of wisdom flic* low and seeks his food under hedges: the eagle himself would be starred if he always soared aloft and against the sua. Teo much atenatiun cannot be be stowed on that important, vet mnch neglected branch at teacniag—the knowl edge of man's ignorance. The raaeooabkoaas of a project ought to be its foundation; and hope, the lad der cniv which oeaduetf the architect to the heights at the budding. Msskitw and aunrteay will always rsoonusend the first address, but soon fall and nansrsta, unless they are asso ciated with more sprightly qualities. It often depends on a trifle, not more than the toes up of a penny, whether a BUD raise bhnaaif to riches and boodr, Wptoe away in misery and want mike (ties. It k a secret km to few, y* of no ■mall M in tl># conduct of life, thai when you fell into • man's oouveraa tum, thv fin* thmg yoa should consider ie, whether he baa a greater iariinaiion to hear yoo, or that you should beer him. The lore of display which results in vulgar ostentation ia the remit of selfishness, of • i pas sions and hia vires. A maa'a first difficulties begin when be ia aMe to d as be likaa. So long aa a meet ia struggling with obstacles, be bee an excuse for failure or i^