Song of the Silent Land, Into the Silent Land ! Ah 1 who shall lead us thither? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand, | Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither, Oh, thither, Into the Silent Land ? Into the Silent Land ! To yon, ye boundless regions Of all perfection! Tender morning-visions Of beanteous souls | The Fature’s pledge and band ! Who in Life's battle firm doth stand Bhall bear Hope's tender blosssms Into the Silent Land ! ~Longfellow, AOA. rie Jos | VOLUME XV. She was so fair, with her golden hair And her beautiful eves of blue, Hditor and Proorietor. CENTRE HALL, CENTRE ‘ ’ CO., PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 1 8.00 PRISE SES in Advance. Sr s———— RRS FATTO. NUMBER 15. i What wonder that 1, in passing by, ! Tarried a while to woo ! Oh, bright the day of that spring-time gay, And merry and young wore we, | many times before he had grown old i enough and wise enough to ask it, { The reader will remember that the i condition of life in which one is brought up will, unless life be made positively unhappy, be natural to him. He will { remember that Robert had had the i chance to learn little of any other life than the one he led. He wns thrown with travelers; to journey long and | widely was natural to him, We must not think that Robert was loss aoute than other young men, al. { though he had never put his slowly. formed conclusion into words until that | night. * She makes a business of traveling. { Why # And behind the fair face that looked {up at him in the gathering twilight, | | with its wealth of love and tenderness { that had always been there for him, was the secret; for he began to feel—to know-—that there was a secret which he | i could not fathom. i “Robert!” DP Brine. | " Yes, mother." i “Do vou know what day to-morrow TTT | will be " ** The twelfth of Qotober.™ Shadowing a Shadow. «How old sre you “Twenty-one to-morrow, mother." Yobert Gaines had traveled with his! She made room by her side for her mother ever since he could remember, | son, and asked with the air of one who | His first childish memory was of the | has something to tell which she shrinks | stormy Channel passage from England | from telling: to France. { “Did you never wonder why we| He remembered putting his little soft | travel about constantly? Why we white hands together to say his evening | bave always journeyed prayers) he remembered his kindnurse, | «I have wondered, mother; I was i his lovely bat sad-looking mother | thinking of it not a minute since. standing a little apart from them and | Why?’ gazing down upon him with a wealth of | «Jt is time vou ‘should know. It is | love shining in her eyes and lingering | time you should begin to help me. We around her lips. | may succeed better when we can work | As he remembered that he was fright- | together.” i ened at the noise of the wind and “1 shall always help you, waters outside, and thought how differ- | mother” . : ent it was from home, he must have had “I know it, Robert, bat vou must then a memory of home. But later | know all of my life. I was born in | that mem ry had faded away into the London, as was your father. He was anknown aud forgotten blank of in- | wealthy, and so was I. He was engaged fancy. His earliest memory, as a boy | iy a business which continues under his aud as a man, was of the stormy Chan- | name to the present day; a business | vel passage from Eagland to France. | which earns a sum of money each year There was a break in his memory after | which is larger than I dare mention to that. you. You would be more than amazed Probabiy only the markedly strange | gt the income from your father's wealth events of early life abide with us as | I manage the business, although almost memories. Later he had seen great! entirely by correspondence. mountains, which he knew, years after- “ When we were married, however, ward, must have been the Alps. i the business was of much less import Coming down the years, his memory | ance, Your father had only one clerk | showed him events more snd more | then, a man by the name of James | closely connected. They had spent an Watson—a man I always disliked. He | entire year journeying over England ; | lived with us, and I fancied he would they had seemed to avoid the usual | pe glad to make trouble between my | routes of travel, and to visit the poorest | husband and myself. I was high- and most untidy towns. | spirited; your father was quick-tem- A year of this, and then a long jour- | pered. How it commenced I have never | noy with only the shortest of prepara- | heen able to remember, but one night | tion. He had grown old enough to | gt supper a slight dispute grew into a know that the long voyage bad taken | quarrel, and the quarrel into a fierce | them to Australia. And yet they! tumult of shreats and denunciation. At had remained there only one week, | last your father seized his hat, shouted coming back then to continue their | back the threat that he would never travels in another part of the world. | come back again, and rushed for the Mrs. Gaines’ journeys had always door. Five minutes later James Watson | seemed peculiar to the few friends she | said he must go with his master and made while on her travels. To the boy | glso left the house. who had grown up to manhood by her | «J went to bed that night sorry for side, tha idea of pecnliarity and strange- | what had happened, for I sincerely ness had been of slow growth. He had | loved your father, and I know he sin- never had other instructor than his | cerelv loved me. mother, but his studies had not suffered. | <The next day the place of business | Still, when he met other boys and | was not opened. My husband and young men who studied in schools, he | James Watson Lad gone, that was cer- had grown to wonder why he had never | tain, We advertised for them both. I | been allowed to stop and study in| pgid hundreds of pounds out of my pri- schools himself. | vate purse tc London detectives. Noth. His mother’s care and love had never | ing came of it. Three months after he failed him, her patience had never | jeft me you were born. I advertisad given way; but she never remained | that widely, asking not my husband to long enough in any one place to make | some to me, but your father to come to friends. . ; you. The advertisement appeared in Boyhood wins friends sooner than | avery capital city in the world. Itdid more matare age; but Robert had | pg good. The lawyers allowed me to scarcely any friends, and changed his | take charge of the business, after a acquaintances so frequently that bel time I accounting for all that I re- could remember but few of them, and | cajved. I was told that I might take those were people whom he had met in | legal steps which wceunld put me in pos late years. | session — absolute possession — of 2a Then the method, or want of method, | |arge share of his property. But I had | And the words she said, ere an hour had speds Seemed full of truth to be, Oh, nobody heard, “save a wandering bind, The wonds that I dared to speak, A%savatched the blush, the erimson flush . oy stained her soit fair cheek, NBhe other ear save hers could hear The question I whispared there + While a sparkle grow in the eves so hlue Of that maiden sweet and fair, i 2 i 0 IK “What answer bast thou ? 1 joyfully urged at last. tad a line : “For answer of ming, Read this when the day is past.” Oh, give it now," 3 N he pened 8 Oh, maids may be fair, with their golden hair ; But those who for love may thirst, Be careful, I say, in the spring-time gay, Lest it chance to be— "April 1s” Mary { i my dear Ax f { i “Forno reason in the world, The! | last check was made in London the day | before we sailed. 1 have tried system long enough; I am trying Juck this | time." “ What shall you He paused and glanced at his mother, Her face was pale and her eyes set, She clutched his arm with a grip that almost wrung a ory from his lips “ James Watson I" she gasped, LIFE AT THE WHITE HOUSE, How Hasiness is Conducted at the Headanaviers, | Woe find in the Washington Keening Star the following interesting descrip tion of how business is now conducted fr | under the present administration is truly a place of business, and is ran on { thorough business principles, President “What is it—who —where {" | Arthur has set apart certain days of the “That man is James Watson," whis- | week for special purposes, and all the pered the woman, pointing forward. “I | employes know that nothing can be must see him.” allowed to interfere with the regular “I'll bring him,” said Robert, and | work for each day. One day in every WAS gone, week the President has reserved for “A lady wishes to ask you a question, | himself, Few people can realize the sir, if you please." | constant strain to which the President “ Cortainly,” and moved back | is subjected. It is absolutely neces across the deck. { sary that he shonld have some relief “* Where is my husband, James Wat. | from the pressure which is brought to son? said Mrs. Gaines, quietly, though | bear upon him from morning until her lips were white, and the blood was | midnight. President Garflald he { of his office, and the constant strain | { on his nerves and strength told upon | making in the palms of her hands, “Mrs. Gaines!" he groans; then side: “Who arevou?’ and he raised | time that he held the office, ) Saturday was the day chosen by Presi. | Robert (Gaines had been in America dent Arthur when he should seclude | often enough to haveseen something of | himself from the crowd of sight-seers | one habit there which might well re. and business callers who daily besiege main unimitated. He imitated it, how. | the White House, but as that day is the ever, and took a boyish pride in going | one when Senators and Representatives armed. | are most at leisure to look after affairs When James Watson raised his cane | which necessitate a eall upon the Presi. | the young man took one step forward, dent (both houses otf Congress usually and the next moment Watson was look- | adjourning over that day), he decided ing into the end of a short, self-cocking | upon Monday as “his” day. Tuoesdays and Fridays have long been “cabinet” | “Put down your cane and answer | days, Members of Congress, however, my mother's question.” are received on these days from 10 until | “Your mother?’ said he; and he! 12 o'clock. The latter hour is the time | made a sudden movement of some sort, | for the regular cabinet meeting It isn’t likely he would have dared to | Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays strike the boy with the revolver at his are what are known as business days, | head. It isn't likely young (Gaines | when those who have business to lay | would have fired on him if he had; but | before the President, or who merely in some WAY the pistol went off, and wish to see him and shake him Robert was looking from the smoking | by the hand are received weapon to a prostrate man, and the | from 11 till 1 o'clock The warm blood was creeping nearer and | President generally breakfasts abaut nearer to his feet when the officers of | 7:30 o'clook, lunches at 2, if the pres the steamship reached them. sare of business allows him, and dines ““ Pat him in irons,” said the cap- {at 7:30 o'clock. About 4 o'clock he tain, pointing to Robert, goes out driving. Daring the evening ** Do nothing of the he almost always has a number of call era, either personal friends or officials, | with whom he has appointments, When the last caller has departed the Presi dent usually devotes several hours to matters which he has set aside to be considered at this time, or which have | been crowded over during the press of the day. Itis at this time a decision is said he—* far bet- reached on many matters of weight, in ter 0.” A little later he said. * Send cluding frequently important appoint me Mrs. Gaines.” To her: “ You've | ments. The rules which have been laid | followed me terribly close most of the | down in the White House are not devi. time. You and your detectives have | ated from except in case of special ap- tortured me almost beyond endurance. | pointment. In fact, business is done It will be rest to die. It was my ac- | somewhat as it was under the Jackson cursed greed and my powers of clever and Grant regimes. It will be | imitation with my pen which did it all. | remembered that President Garfield's | I don't expect you will forgive me—I | private secretary, J. Stanley Brown, | sort,” said with a terrible effort; ** he's finished me, but I would swear with my latest breath did it in sell-de- fense ” * He may live an hour, surgeon, Watson opened his eyes, “ It's betterso,” he " said the 3 1 dent Arthur for a time. Owing to the request of Mrs. Garfield that he should take charge of and arrange certain pa- pers with a view to their use in the She was beginning to biography of the late President he was | understand. obliged to saver connection with the | Watson started up. White House, Fred J. Phillips, a per. | “ That night—more than twenty-one | sonal friend of President Arthur, suo- years ago—when he left home—1 mur. | ceeded Mr. Brown. Although President dered him—and threw his body—in the | Arthur has a much smaller force of Thames.” assistants than his predecessors. the The last word was a gasp. was work at the executive mansion is dis. dead. patched with remarkable promptness and accuracy. This is owing mare, perhaps, to the signal abilities of Mr. " . : { Phillips than to anything else. He is he following anecdote about the |, thorongh man of business, The famous jurist Story is in private eiren- | pragident has implicit confidence in him, and relies on him a great deal, | and consequently Mr, Phillips sncoeeds in relieving him of much that would otherwise occupy his time and annoy him. The many callers whom he is obliged to are dis- | posed of with rapidity and satisfaction. | The hungry office-seeker is not lured | rest. He has ended your journey auc mine together.” “ Where is my husband ?" said Mrs, Gaines, with the sound of nnshed tears in her voices. He Auecdote of Judge Story, lic eve. It was prepared for Story's biography by his son, but Charles Sumner, who edited the work, struck it out, The narrative runs like this: In his younger days Story lived in the aristocratic old town of Salem, in Massachusetts, His great ability was see not then tempered by as much wisdom by a false hope, because of a disinelina- SUNDAY READING, WALL HIFILT SPECULATORS, Paving Delus, ] " . How Farvtunes are Lost by Unsephisticated One of our religions exchanges has | People Whe Think They have *Poluts." the following strong remarks on this subject, They drive the nail to the { head and elinch it: “Men may so- { phisticate how they please. They can never make it right, and all the inigui It wonld be laughable were it not so | melancholy, says a New York corre spondent, narrate the numberless oases of men who, snddenly exalted from their humble spheres of plodding ous laws in the universe cannot make work to money making Wall street { it right for them not to pay their debts, | operators, built golden castles in the | There is a sin in this neglect as clear | gir—alas ! to see them so soon and so { and as deserving church discipline as is | gruelly dispelled. People abandoned stealing or false swearing. He who | their legitimate ooenpations and flocked | violates his promise to pay, or witholds | to the eity in hundreds, hovering over | the payment of a debt when it is in his | the omnipresent stock-ticker, and | power to meet the obligation, ough! | thinking they were on the road to in. | to feel that in the sight of all honest | dependence and riches, casting already | men he is a swindler. Religion may be | about in their minds where they would | a very comfortable cloak under which | take their next summer jaunt in En | to hide, but if religion does not make | yope, whether they would have light 4 man deal justly, it is not worth oream-colored horses, or steeds of a having.’ rich, dark bay; imagining themselves | installed in fine, showy houses, with liveried servants and all the paraphernalia of wealth, 1 particularly remember, for its sadly ludicrous end, the experience cf the clerk of a small summer hotel in New | England, whose aoquaintancs I had made during a flying midsummer trip, | He was a nice, modest fellow, but very inexperienced and much too guileless | and confiding for this wicked world of | blooded Indian, ours, What was my astonishment when | The Rev. GG. Hubert, a Baptist minis. | One evening I saw the young man sitting | ter in Norway, has been sentenced to | 8t Delmonico's and picking his teeth | pay a heavy fine for having baptized a after an elaborate dinner—for I could | young person, both of whose parents observe the remnants of various ex- wore already members of the Baptist | pensive courses and an empty claret church : and champaigne bottle were on the According to the Irish church dire. table. He came up to me with a smile tory for the current year there are now of intense satisfaction, and (as I thought 1,708 olergy in the Protestant Episcopal | ™ the time) with considerable conde- church of Ireland. In the census of A POCRTOB extanded sa his band. 1861 there was 2,265, and the decrease, | , «HOY are you? said 1, civilly. therefore, in the tweaty yoars has been | 1 Lat are you doivg in New York? ’ ’ “I'm down in Wall street,” said he, with airy lightness, and sat down be. side me, stretehing out wide his logs with the manner of a eapitalist who is | on admirable terms with himself. “I'm no longer in the hotel business.’ He went on to inform me that he was making monev very fast, and that he wondered he had be n a fool for ever degrading his talents to the lowly du- ties of a hotel clerk when a fortune lay ready waiting for him in Wall street. “How long do you mean to stay in New York?’ I asked, casually. “ Not long,” said he; **1 guess T'll be going to Paris next month (this was last spring) and stay there till Octuber, | Bishop Peterkin ays that, contrary to and then come back to spend the win- the assertions of some, it isa very com~ ter in Florida, No more hotel busi. mon thing for ministers to decline ness for me! I'm going to have some churches that are offered to them, with fun now for my money.” much larger salaries than they are re- I left him and said to myself: * How ceiving, because they are unwilling to cruelly they will shear this poor lamb!” give up a work in which they have be. | I first thought of advising him to sell come interested. ut once and put his money safely away, There are in the United States 3 230 | but I knew I would only be laughed at Lutheran ministers. Of these, the | 8% an old gmuny. But I often won- | largest number in any one State is | dered what had become of him after in Pennsylvania, which has 550; Illi | the great decline had set in last sum. nois has . Ohio, 340: Wisconsin, mer. A short time ago I was riding 265: Minnesots, 228: New York, 180; | Bp on the elevated railroad, and as I Towa, 108; Indiana, 135; Michigan, Was putting my ticket in the little box | 118. No other State has a hundred. which is at the entrance gate, I heard There are at the present day estab mysell addressed by the gateman, who Row oa : 30 preami © ang | 18 placed beside the box to see that all lished in the Fiji islwnds about 900 the tickets are dropped in. Yes, it was WN esleyan churches and 1,400 schools. | oc 14 friend whom I had last seen at The communicants are numbered bY | Delmonico’'s. He had been ** cleaned thousands. I'he schools are attended out completely, and after being by nearly 50,000 children, and out of { oat on the verge of starvation, a population of about 120,000, over ,.; gaoured the place of al 100,000 are reckoned as regular at gateman at $125 per day of| tendants at the churches. Idolatry is | go. 0 hours. This was his expe- | acutely known, and cannibalism, for | io..0 jn Wall street. Another case | which these islands were so famous | Lo. ouch sadder one, for it involved | 'N shendonad } Ingle tri) an old man who will have but little | tarily abandoned save by a Single tribe. | shane to repair the ruin his speeula- | I —————— A —————————— The Pork King. Mr. Armour, known on every prod. nee exchange in this country as “Phil Armour,” but who modestly styles him to Religious News and Notes, The Presbyterians in Minnesota num- It is said that five denominations have tion of 750,000, The bishop-elect of Cuernanaca, the Rev. Prudenszio (i. Hernandez, of the Reformed Mexican church, is a pure. The will of the late Lisonard Church, of Hartford, is not to be contested, Mrs. Church agreeing to pay the con- testants 825.000. The estate is valuad at §400,000. Two Congregational so- will receive 84 000 each. The annnal statistics of the Moravian church in the United States show that there are now 9.607 communicants, a gain of 136; non-communicants over thirteen years of age namber 1,530, and there are 07 ehildren. Daring the vear twenty-five were excluded and 043 ** dropped.” 2, 3 4 Lf tions have wrought. He belongs to one | of the learned professions, in which he | has achieved a certain degree of dis tinction, Last summer, and even down | to last fall, he was hopeful, sanguine, to speak on pork, Whether it bein the | saw dazzling before him. Like every buying and killing of hogs, or in the | bedy else he had a new road somewhere | metamorphosing of the valgar Anglo | in the West running from Oshkosh to | Vour Western Girls, The Woman's Journal cites the Misses Kolloek as four typical Western girls : The family of W. E. and A. M. Kolloek, of Madison, Wis, consists of seven members, four of whom are sisters, Of these Dr. Mary Kollock Bennett, the eldest, graduated at the Woman's many vears has been practicing sue- cossfully in that city, The next, Dr. Harriet Kollock, graduated io the Medi professional work, The third, the Rev. Florense Kollock, gradvated at the Canton Theological college some years pastor in a beautiful church built for her by her parish during the past two years at Englewood, a fine suburb of Chicago. Dr. Jennie OC. Kollock, the youngest, gradaated in the Dental de- partment at Ann Arbor, Mich., last and passing the highest examination of She is now establish- ing hercelf successfully as a dental White Embroidered Muslin Dresses. White dresses are entirely of em- broidery, with a panier sash of satin surah passed around the hips and tied The shirred basque is of open star embroidery entirely made on a lawn lining, with deep sailor collar, flources of embroidery, and the panier straight around the hips, as sashes are. Narrower pink and blue surah outlines i ping at the waist line in the unde- arm seam, aud tied low in the middle; small bows are on the throat and wrists, Wide embroidered flounces ean be used for dress waists by making the scalloped edges of two flounees meet down the middle of the back and also in front, The sleeves are also of embroidery, with a puff and frill at the wrists, rounded upward to the inside | Simpler dresses of white dotted | sook, have a pointed basque with inser- | tion and secant frill of embroidery on | the edge, and also in pointed vest shape | The | es, edged with the embividery, and | fluced horizontally on the lower skirt. wo frills gathered in the middle likea and have loops of satin ribbon, with a coquettish bow at the foot in front. A single bow of long loops and ends is put on the right side—not in the mid- ribbon is tied in a point in front. Pale | navy blue aud bronze velver ribbons, | are used on cream white mull muslin, — Harper's Bazar, Fashion Notes. Moire is used for parasols, Spring jackets are very plain. Curtain overskirts are revived. Shirred tabliers are uppopular, Cotton satines rival those of silk, Fiocelle, or twine lace, is a novelty, The coronet bonnet is already popu. The latest fichns are long and nar. TOW. The velvet dog collar remains in favor. Pearl buttons sre on stylish wool TE SI EAA RE THE FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. Farm and Garden Netes, Hee that neither the solid or liquid portions of manure are allowed to go to waste, Mr. Arthas Byrant places the profit. able bearing life of an apple tree at twenty years, A silo and a cow's stomach have some resemblance to each other—so it bas been lately shown, a Dry fish guano contains more than fifteen times as much nitrogen as is found in table manure. Inu highly bred and liberally fed ani- mals the teeth are produced earlier than in those living under the reverse Plenty of sun and a warm soil are needed for growing man whilst swedes thrive best in a cool, moist sail and climate, Well-seasoned posts, when th y dried and then charred and di in hot tar, will remain rot and inseet proof So many years in almost any kind of soi A. D. Capen, of the Massachusetts Horticultural society, says cabbage plants may be hoed every day during the season with advantage to the crop. In all cases a cow should be milked regular and stripped clean. No doubt this has much to do in forming good milking tribes of cattle, by encouraging a full development of the milk glands, The dead bark from the trunks sand larger limbs of trees is best removed during a thaw, A wash of whale oil or soft soap applied with s brush gives a smooth, healthy sppearnace. Onions are the first vegetables that get in the ground. The land should be very rich, = They can be grown in the same place every year, as they are very nearly equally proportioned in the con- stitnent elements derived from the soil. A small quantity of ashes given to pigs while fattening is found w beneficial, as their food is y ri in phosphoric acid and deficient in lime, which ashes supply; and in this way the phosplumis id is madeavailable as The premature growth of colts by high feeding and severe training bas the tendency to degenerate the breed, by entailing the overworked debility on their issue, which may become hereditary, and be transmitted to fu- ture generations, At a recent meeting of the Dairy as. sociation at Rutland, Vit, a chemist claimed that the salt found in ocean or power of killing the germs that create ran- cidity in butter than has pure salt, hence he recommended it for the preservation of butter. The value of all manufactured fer- tilizers depends upon their solubility, sud these manures should all be appro- priated by the growing crops. To ex- pect any such fertilizing matter to re- main in the ground for another year is to presume that the fertilizers are not properly manufactured. Bone dust, however, will remain in the soil several years, When corn on the ear is fed to horses they masticate it much more slowly than if the corn was shelled. As a consequence that on the ear is better digested. A horse requires more time to eat corn on the ear than if fed either meal or shelled corn. If the horse cannot have time to masticate a i i - Tears. I» it rainy, little flower 7 Be gind of rain. Too much sun would wither thee ; “Twill shine again, The clouds are very black, "tis true; But just behind them shines the bios, of knee koees. The nine that ball clubs care to none of tackle — i ! ; is 1 ; iF of : f k E th i : ER £ 3 | 8 8 § fr Get i : = § I; { i z E f i - - ; : j ih A Fe ; : : : i : : full feed of unshelled corn, then it is | best to feed something else, | The following is given a8 an exoel- | lent method of plucking poultry : Hang the fowl by the feet with a light cord ; | then with a small knife give one ent | across the upper jaw opposite the cor- | ners of the mouth ; after the blood bas | stopped running a stream, place the | point of a knife in the upper part of the | mouth, run the blade on into the back i “ Intelligent!” setter dog, “ He kno Why, once he took a dislike to a and went and induced the to him so I would lick the sir!” Boston Traascript. At a high school examination teacher asked the son of an old was 41 55% which Sharactastesd Mrs. Guisled ac- | enough of my own without using what 10IS Was growing SIraADZEr and Siranger | helonged to my husband, and 1e- | : : to her son as he grew older and knew | fused to commence the legal processes | joked upon a Sida oF by 2oine of more of life, and more of the way in| pecessary. I simply managed { the old lames, ne day Mrs. A. | . ’ ? { ealled upon Mrs. B., and in the course | the | which people usually traveled. business, placed the profits in bank to | : sd - 4 0 i 1 FeTrR 3 od Ny : His mother was not a woman who vour SES phone spent money | of their conversation {there being a | : y »" : : | f the summer i as he afterward displayed, and he was | Saxon “hog” into the more elegant and | Poshkosh in his vest pocket. * He was | dresses. o whether there is any chance for him or | popular product yelept, through the | going to make a million,” to quote his | Afuglin embroidery trims cashmere not. When he is told no he under! influence of one’s Norman French an- | own words, “if he was going $0 make 8 | Jracses, stands it to mean no. Mr Phillips’ costors, “pork;"” whether it be in the | dollar.” I met him the other day, and | Polonsises have taken a fresh lease time is more than occupied. He is] exporting of product or in the exercise | was much struck by the change in his | | tion to say no, but he is told at once papal 8 eu ng bo ately | following this operation is the proper time for plucking the fowl, as every would have been called liberal by the people around hotels and public re sorts. She would pay a hackman ex- actly what she had promised or exactly what ske knew he had a right to charge, and not one cent more. She would seek the humblest rather than the best hotel in a place. She dressed plainly. She was economical. Still, Robert remembered a ceriain occasion when she had ordered a car- riage at the last moment in New York, and driven in all haste to the steamboat just starting for England, leaving tick- ets for Ban Frapeisco on the table. And he rémembered reversal occasions on which tickets for cshorter journeys had gone igthe same way, gone without a wordy"apparently without a thought. e was a great reader; she never gfadged money paid for books and newspapers; and she read alond to her son hours at a time. She would read of great men with a smile of enthusiasm on her face; of great art galleries with all the appreciation of a cultured taste, And Robert bad seen her face flush with pleasure at the sight of some famous painting on one or two rare occasions, But they had visited Rome, and he had seen nothing of the treasures of art or relics of early religion there; they bad journeyed to Egypt, and he had not climbed a pyramid; they had been in Paris twice, and he had never seen a play nor listened to an opera; they had visited Berlin, St. Petersburg, Washing. ton, and he bad only by accident seen some of the noted leaders among men, and had never been inside one of the public buildings in his life. They had spent a month in Philadelphia during the summer of 1876, and had not been allowed fo visited the great exhibition. There were three conditions which Robert had always had to obey. He could never go anywhere, even for the shortest distunce or the briefest time, without a full statement of exactly where he was going and how long he would be gone, and was allowed to go alone only on rare occasions. His mother always read all newspapers be- fore he was allowed to touch them. She always read her letters in silence and never mentioned them afterward. Iadulgent in many things, his mother exacted implicit obedience in these matters. He went or remained as she said; he read his favorite papers after she had finished them; he never ap- peared to even know when she had let- ters, Robert Gaines was thinking of these things as he paced the deck of a fast ocean steamer headed for New York, on the eleventh day of October, eighteen hundred and eighty, And the wise conclusion he formed as he threw away his cigarand turned to rejoin his mother, who was reading a dozen paces from him, was a conclusion that had been uttered by more than one person who had met Mrs. Gaines in the last one and twenty years: “ Some make a pleasure of travel. Some try to get pleasure out of it, and get worry and discomfort for their pains and money; but she makes a business of traveling. Why?’ of my own freely in advertising and paying detectives, while I economized | in every other way. My fortune en- abled me to save considerable money. “Things went on so for more than three years. One day I received a let- ter from the lawyers—mine as well as | hie, A check for one hundred pounds, | dated at Paris, and with your father’s | name at the bottom, had been presented | by the London bank which had received it from a Paris bank for payment. The | lawyers said that if 1 would enter | formal objection they thought they could avoid baving it paid. I refused | to enter objections. It was paid, and {| took a journey to Paris at once. i “I spent money freely there with | only one clew, and that a doubtful oue, to reward me. I believed my husband | und James Watson were together, and | my agents believed they had traced James Watson to Geneva. So Isearched Switzerland personally and by agents, and failed utterly. “ For a whole year we paid drafts, all | drawn in England, and all drawn for | small amounts, at the rate of about one | a week, and I hunted all over England | in the track of the dates of those drafts, and paid a dozen men to do the same thing for me. i “A report reached me from Live- | pool just then which led me to believe that James Watson had been seen to | embark on a vessel for Melbourne. | Another man was with him, There was | a good deal of doubt as to the second | man being my husband, and a little as | to the first one being James Watson, 1 took the risk on both, and sailed on the | next vessel for Australia, | “The mails went on board, after which passengers would have been un- | able to go. And our own vessel carried | a letter to me at Melbourne, informing | me of a draft made since the vessel | which was supposed to have carried | James Watson and my husband had | sailed. That settled the matter. I took | the next vessel back. I followed a faint | clew, which indicated Watson, to Alex- | andria, to Berlin, to 8t. Petersburg. 1 | hurried back to England to trace a draft made in London, I started to investi. gate the case of a man who registered at a hotel in San Francisco as James Watson, and whose description was not unlike that of our James Watson, and hurried away to the boat from New York, leaving tickets for San Francisco unused, on receipt of a cable dispatch from my lawyers regarding another draft. Rome, Washington, Paris again, now on one clew, now on another, It has been a hard life. You have been my only comfort. ** A month before the Centennial ex- hibition opened in Philadelphia we paid a draft made in that city. We paid seven, all made there, while the exhi- bition was in progress. I spent a month there with you, and five of the shrewdest detectives in America worked for me during the entire time. We have paid more than one hundred thousand pounds in all. ‘We paid twelve thon- sand last year. I would give all I own to meet your father again and be recon- ciled with him,” “Why are you going to America now?” { And his question had been askel B. if her daughter was going to the evening. ** No,” my daughter go to any place which is frequented by that insignificant young puppy Story.” Story was a judge on the supreme beneh, he visited Salem, and was warml known him formerly. Among his best friends apparently was Mrs, B., and he accepted her pressing invitation toydin- ner, Now, in the years which had elapsed, the seamstress had become possessed of a home of her owa, to which was attached a garden, with a pear tree, which was just then loaded After the invitation to dinner had been accepted the seam- stress geccived a call from Mrs. B.'s servant, asking her to send up a basket the supreme court of the Unit:d States, was to be present.” The good-natured seam- “Tell your mis tress that I am glad that the insignifi- cant young puppy Story has grown to be go fine a dog." — Harper's Magazine EE ——— Deadheads in Newspapers, It is well eaid by Forney's Progress that in proportion to the expense in- volved in its preparation no article is 80 cheaply supplied as the newspaper. Its eost to its readers is asnear nothing elsewhere for a revenue than to its snb- scription list, That in many establish- ments is a positive loss, regarded by itself, but the circulation attracts the advertiser, and the advertiser furnishes the sinews of war. To get the adver. tiser youn must first get the circulation, and to get the circulation you must give the people a paper that will inter- est and please them. Every lins which a newspaper publishes for any other reason than that its editor thinks it contains something the people wish to know, is more or less an in- jury to him, because it oc- cupies space which otherwise wonld be" filled with matter which would aid in building up or retaining the popularity of his journal. To this must be added the cost of putting the “puff’ in type, and the other outlays it requires. The wise newspaper proprie- tor limits the number of columns to which he will admit advertisements, or increases his columns to accommodate a rush, knowivg that to crowd the read- ing matter, though it may temporarily make happy the heart of his cashier, means speedy and permanent ruin. Yet there is not a newspaper in the country which does not give away in the course of the year many columns of its valuable space—a trite, but true expression—and more than that, places these gratis notices in positions which the money of the legitimate advertiser, paid down over the counter, could not buy. age, was the editor of a weekly school paper. rushed, He has no relief and no time | No matter how busy, | he always has a pleasant word for those | who approach him. He is not only | recognized as a thorough business man, | as a thorough gentleman. Mr. | Crump is the steward of the White | He came there with Hayes, | | House. | the late President's illness, and the new French cook make the | President's dinner parties. i The President's doorkeepar, Charles | Loeffler, knows every person of any | prominence. He never forgets a face, | He is daily passed by erowds of people | desirons of audience, but he knows | how to discriminate, and his phles- | matic temperament keeps him lovel- | headed, He came with General Grant. | Arthur Simmons has been the door | keeper of the private secretary's office | since 1866, and he is likely to remain | thera for a good many years, Mr. Crump i | : ' : i room. came with General Grant There | are several messengers connected with the office. The President's monnted messengers, James Sheridan and Thos. Dolan, are daily seen riding throngh the streets, Albert, the driver, and Jerry, the footman, must not be forgot- ten. They were well known under (General Grant's administration, when they looked well behind a fine team, They didn't seem to take much pride in President Hayes's turn ont, Itis very donbtful if President Arthur, who has a turnout befitting a | President, will allow his driver to hold the reins in one hand and a large umbrella in the other. There is one man about the White House anthorized to make arrests, Sergeant Dinsmore. Two other policemen are on duty at night. A police officer was first placed on duty there in 1864. Very little of Sergeant Dinsmore’s time is occupied with police dnty, however. He and the ushers, Mossrs. Thomas F. Pendle, who came with Lincoln, and J. T. Rickard, have about as much ag they can attend to in receiving callers, and showing what can be seen and answer. ing innumerable questions. i ————— 3 SAAS. Whittier, A tall, spare and erect person in a long black cloak is often seen of late upon the Boston streets, and never fails of recognition as * Mr. Whittier,” He is entertained a good deal in that lit- erary town, and always accepts hos. pitality in the simplest and most genial manner. A correspondent of the Provi dence Press who met the poet at a conventional dinner party describes him as suspiciously eyeing a dish of spinach daintily served in I'rench fashion, and presently asked his hostess: “What do you call that herb?” “It seemed,” adds the core respondent, ‘like a sudden opening of the door into another room-—another atmosphere, where, to do as everybody else does, and to know everything that everybody else knows, was not necessary to human life and enjoyment, but rather the reverse. How many people, simply bred to plain country life, would dare to show the simple ignorance that Whittier did.” that diplomacy with which in appearanco. His hair, whie™ previ these latter days an American pack- | ously was slightly tinged with gray, | er must be equipped in order to had become almost completly white. | cope with his wily French rivals— | There were terrible, deep lines about in all Phil Armoar is facile princeps | his eyes and mouth, and a look of touch: among the makers of pork. Over a ing, almost despairing sadness stole ont | million of hogs were killed at his Chi- | of his formerly placid and genial eyes. cago packing-house last year, over half | Ho had lost everything he had in the | a million more at his packing-house in | world, and had swept with him into the | Kansas City, and several hundred | ruin (his wife, his children and his thousand more at his establishment at home. Worst of all, he had borrowed Milwaukee. He killed more porkers— | money from friends, in the vain attempt | a half million more—within the last! to retrieve his misfortunes and to re- twelve months than both Cincinnati | spond to the incessant brokers’ calls and Bt. Louis put together. Twenty | for more and more ** margins,” and was five millions of his money were! heavilyin debt, Everything was gone, distributed in the corn belt of this | and he spoke as though not only his country for live hogs last yeur. He sits | fortune, but all his hope and couraga in his office on Washington street in | in life had been utterly destroyed. And Chicago, and every day talks over the | Goethe says: “Courage lost, everything wires with his own employes in Lon- | Jost; better that thon hadst never been | don, Liverpool, Antwerp, Copentagen, | born!" Havre, Hamburg, and with hundreds | of them distributed through the South Not That Kind of a Doctor Shop. | 01d Bill McGammon, who keeps a bank in Kansas City, with his partvers | grocery store in the suburbs of Austin, at New York and Milwaukee, When 1% one of the olosest men in the State he believes in pork, he buys not only | of Texas, and abbreviates his words in | such as is within easy reach, but every | writing. He abbreviated the names on barrel and pound of meat that is for the drawers and boxes of the contents sale in the world. Having bought it, | in his grocery, instead of painting the he sells it, not to the great speculators | names in full, For instance, he! in this country and abroad, but bim- | painted on the sugar barrel, “Br sell distributes every pound of it with | Sugar,” for brown sugar, und so on. his own distributing machinery-—the Last Tuesday a feeble-looking | most elaborate in the world—to the | stranger dropped into Bill MeGammon's | pork-eaters in the Southern cotton | gore and after looking around, asked : States, in the manufacturing districts | «1g Dr, Prunes in?" of England and France, the agricul-| O}d MecGammon stared, and said he | tural sections of Germany, the lumber | yeckoned not. regions of the North. In 1879 Mr. Ar “Is Dr. Codfish in, then I” asked the i mour was the owner of practically every | gtranger. barrel of pork in the world. Withinthe| «No, be is not,” said old MeGammon, | next year he had sold it all for consump. i emphatically. ion. His speculation netted him, it 1s {| «Then toll Doctor Cherries I would aid, $7,000,000. Chicago News. | like to see him, if he is at leisure.” Seem — | “You get out of here. I believe you | | have escaped from the lunatic asylum. | This ain't no medicine college; this is | a grocery,” retorted old McGammon, getting red in the face. A Warm Iavitation, Jesse B., of Raleigh, N. C., wal en- gaged in the lightning rod business. | He had just putjup the necessary rods |“ «yf this is a grocery, then you had for a farmer, and was, judging from 81 | patter carry back them doctors’ signs to | unpleasant sensation in the region of | where you stole them from,” responded | the diaphram, certain that the hour |g, stranger, strolling out, | of dinner was near at hand. In other | Old MeGammon looked where the | words, he had not tasted food since stranger had pointed, and for the first | ouEly Haat NiOFn RSs nl kusw So time noticed the Hastie of his abbheviae where his next meal was to come Irom | ging the word *‘dried” into “Dr,” for nnlass he was invited to dine with |, the drawers he read, in large letters: Pasir Bo neaitation. th | Dr. Prunes; Dr, Peaches : Dy Codtiel § t length, after some hesitation, (Re | py, (Cherries; Dr. Peas ; Dr. sles ; farmer said: ** It's about our dinner | 1). Beef, — Teras Siftings. Rupos hour, but the old woman 1s away from ! er —c————— home to-day, and I hardly know what | Te Boston Herald recently preached to do about it, but if you will take pot- a sermon on the “Power of the Press,” luck with me, you are welcome 10 |gand an extract taken therefrom is as dinner,” a | follows: ‘Ihe press rebukes sin morn- Jesse thanked him, and they two ino noon and night; also Sundays and wended their way to the Siging rooms | holidays. By the press men are kept They found nothing to eat save a dish | i, wholesome fear of public opinion, of roasted potatoes aud a pot of mus- | Aan who would otherwise go home to- tard, : .'} ked | night and beat their wives fear the After being seated the farmer asked | {1ythi-telling reporter. Men who are Jess. to take some potatoes. | itching for a safe chance to steal their ‘‘ No, I thank you, said Jess, “I employers’ cash are restrained by a font like potatoes ® cd | dread of being pilloried in the public ell,” said the farmer, not in the | rings.” least disconcerted, “ just help yourself ! i - a to the mustard !” [1linols last year raised 174,491,706 Jess. tells the story, and says it was bushels of corn, Which cost $76,303,074 one of the warmest invitations he ever | and was worth $93,328 977, The crop received.— Detroit Free Press, was the smallest since 1874, { Bengaline dresses are worn in light mourning. Paniers in lengthwise plait: are Gilded paragon frames are placed over Greyhound bine or gray will be a favorite color for traveling and utility Fine carving appears on the} wood bandles of dressy parasols and coach- s and orders Cashmere serges in broad stri and designs, are late novelties. Bouquets of roses and other large the tops of handsome parasols. V-shaped waistcoats, the V terminat- ing at the waist line, is a feature in New parasols and umbrellas have handles of the wood of the natural stick, knobbed, erutched and hooked. Shrimp pink, water bine and pale copper-colored silks line many parasols, the lining. Spring fans aro in various designs. Some of lace and flowers, others are hand-painted on satin, while others are made entirely of feathers. Dress skirts are wider thisTseason. The draperies are more bouffant and elaborate than Irish lace, trimmed with clusters of leaves and forget-me-nots was the garniture of the green valvet dress worn by the Princess of Wales at Newly imported French woven un- people, both men and women. The skirts of last year's dresses can be very advantageously added to a new where the original basque to the cos- tume has become soiled or worn. A sash or Grecian tunic can be laid over the seam where the skirt and jersey are joined. Mountain fern, gold-tipped chestnut blossoms, and scented wood violets are seen npon elegant new *‘ garden” hats of or brown straw, he hats are not to make gardens in, but only to grace a garden party, which is a matter as different as a * horse chestnut and a chestnut horse.” ms IA The most recent life preserver it made of iron. At least, it appears that a steamer on the Ohio river, on which were 130 persons, was saved from being orushed by the presence of 600 kegs of nails in her hold. 8he ran on the rocks and the nails held her down so that she couldn't dash about and go to pieces. At the same time we do not recommend a keg of nails strapped upon the person as being anything ke a perfect life-preserver. feather yield as if by magic, and there is no danger of tearing the most tender chick. It is a practice with many farmers fo | plsce a load or two of somewhat green bay on the top of the mow, thinking | that it will dry under such circum- | stances without injury, and finally turn | out pretty fair bay. This is a mistake. The greenest hay should be placed at | the bottom of the mow; it will heat some and throw off the moisture, and the hay | will come ont bright green and full of aroma, Place the bog hay on the top of the mow, and it will absorb snch | moisture as ascends from the sweating hay below, and though vundoubtedl will prove somewhat musty, yet su would also be the cise with the geod | hay if placed on the top of the mow, If farmers will try this plan, they will find they will have firsi-class hay in all their mows, Recipes. i Oup rasgioNep Arrie DurMpLING — | Mix a pint of prepared flour with a cup- fal of finely chopped suet, a little sult and cold water, roll it out, slice the apples ina heap, and draw the four corners together as for an old-fashioned “turn-over,” make the edges stick by | wetting them; lay the dumpling ina cloth dipped in boiling water and then floured, fold it over, pin and tie firmly, and place in a kettle of boiling water, with an old kitchen plate on the bottom to keen from sticking or burning ; beil an hour and a half without stopping. Serve with hot lemon sauce, or maple syrup, or sugar and cream. Cuvppesrox Cage. —Three-guarters of a pound of butter beaten to a cream, three-quarters of a pound of sifted sugar, & quarter of a pound of mo- lacsns; beat up well with the band. Take six eggs, breaking each one sepa- lately into the mixture; then warm a balf-pint of new milk, mix all together, and then add one and a half pounds of hour, two pounds of currants, half a pound of citrop cut in thin slices. Bake in a slow oven four hours. When done it will weigh six and a half pounds. Frexen Currast Jenoy.—Mash and strain currants, and for each pint of currant juice have ready a quart of rasp- berries; mash the raspberries in the currant juice, first cold; then boil slowly for fifteen minutes, stirring all the time; then drain, put all back into the kettle, and to each pint of fluid add three-quarters of a pound of pel vorized sugar ; boil very gently for an hour until it jellies, stirring and skimming, A Ricn Tomato Souve.— Take eight good-sized toreatoes, cut them in half, pus them ints a saucepan with a bunch of sweet herbs and an onion stuck full of cloves, some allspice, whole pepper and salt. Cook them slowly until quite soft, then strain through a strainer or hair sieve until the skins and onions and herbs only are left behind. Have a quart of plain stock boiling hot. Stir the tomatoes into it, and the yolks of two eggs beaten up in a little cold water, Serve with sippets of toast or fried bread. . is not only to “doa little supposed, bat glean, to select, to discriminate, cide, to foresee, to i elucidate, down, several hundred o large number of districts yet to from.— Newsdealers' Bulletin, *Levme fu wo ask. _bngun a lttie old man it 5 whispes y as at of being avd dnwith his chair cl.ae upto the editor, “if you know anything of the of # condition th id np capital?” Pe Tee millions, I believe, editor, beginning to wonder ner of man bad floated against “And,” continued the man in thin and straggling iron gray “what's the Nevada Bank's reserve— its reserve—that's what I want to find he illions, I think “ Four millions, 5 “ And how is it invested —bow isit in- vested?’ He fairly golped with eager- ness as he glued bis eyes npn those of the editor and awai ed the reply: «In United States bonds.” : « Ah,” he said, with a great sigh of relief, “I'm glad of that. Then" -here he looked all around to make sure there were no listeners—‘‘then you think a man could safely intrust his ney toit? - « Why, certainly. There is no safer bank in the world. It has unlimited backing. . The little old man chuckled and took the editor's hand, which he shook almost gleefully. : vag “You have done me a great fav sir,” he exclaimed, *‘ a great favor a 1 shall not forget it.” mK «It bothers you to be sare that money's safe, I suppose, sir ?” sai editor with that respect in tone manner which every independent gen instinctively assumes when ing a wealthy man. . “ Well-—er—no, not just yet. AL dence, ** a my ner of life. I'm fifty-five to-day have formed a resolution that forth 1 shall save wy money 8 ing it, as ve done Ly up, and I have suffered him. black, at his + * 58,000,000 ;
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers