pny WHEN THE MOONLIGH [ REIGNS. w Lot's steal away when moonlight reign-, And Summer sleeps amid her flowers ; Let's steal away and wake the strains That Love has made for happy hours. 0, softly o'er the waters glide, The waters lit by silvery beams ; But let the song float o'er the tide, And life low on in golden dreams. Across the stream I hear a swell, A cheering song of youthful glee; Across the stream sweet voices tell The sacred hour of melody, Then steal away, O happy hearts! While Sight her richest mantle wears, And catch the strain her voice imparts, And leave to Time its fleeting cares. “* Katie's Work"' a Hurrah i" The door flew open with a bang as Phil Paysen burst into the little room where his mother and his sister Katie sat sewing, his face flushed, his eyes shining, and his cap swinging high over his head. * Why, Phil I’ “Give three cheers, mother! Dance like a dervish, Kate! I'm going to be night watchman in Mr. Medway 's mill, at fifteen dollars a month. Oh, mother, ain’t you glad *’ “ Very glad, indeed,” answered Mrs. Payson, and for a moment she looked pleased enough to satisfy Phil's high- est expectations. Then her face cloud- ¢ But your school, Phil dear ; I can’t have you leave that.” “I don’t mean to, mother.” said Phil, earnestly. *‘ It’s all fixed just right. I'll study nights—it will help keep me awake, you know—and Miss Cary i8 going to hear me recite every afternoon at five o'clock. She offered to, mother. Oh, mother, do say you're glad, really I” Mrs. Payson pulled her tall boy down and kissed him tenderly on both glow- ing cheeks. As for Katie, she was lit- erally on tiptoe with delight. She was a little brown gypsy, with dark eves full of fire and fun. “ood for Miss Cary,” she cried, twirling around on her toes. *‘Isn’t she just splendid ?"’ “She is very kind,” said Mrs. Pay- son, smiling; ‘‘and I am glad, Phil, more glad than I can tell you. How came Mr. Medway to give you the place? It is a very responsible posi- tion, you know.” Yes? said Phil, and he blushed and hung his head. ‘‘Squire Dreems recommended me, mother, Mr. Med way said be told him I was a very trust- worthy boy. I'm sorry I said such hard things about him." “ I'm sure he deserved it,’ Katie flashed forth, * for advertising mamma to ‘put us out’— that is just what he said—when--papa--went away, and of- fering to find good homes for us. The idea! What would a home be without mamma ? And what would she do without us. I'd like to know.” “ What, indeed ?*’ echoed the mother. “1 can't tell, Katie. But ’Squire Dreems thought he was acting for the best. He has been very kind all through our trouble, and I am sure that it was his influence that procured Phil this situation.” * But it’s mean for Phil to do it all,” argued Katie. ‘1 wish I could do something.” Pril wrinkled his nose at his sister and laughed. : “I'm the head o' this house,” said he. You and mother are ladies, Katy- did. 1 don’t mean you shall do much more sewing for people.’’ “My fifteen year-old wan,” said his mother, laughing too ; but there were tears gathering in her eyes, And Katie dimpled, and then re- fapsed in swift gravity. “1 know what I ean do, Phil,’ she said, going close to her brother. *I can hold up your hands the way that somebody in the Bible did. I can see the mill from my window, and every night—every night, Phil, before I go to sleep, 1 shall ask God to take care of my brother ; and every time I'm awake I shall look down at you, 80 you needn't feel lonesome.’ “Something of the guardian angel style #7 laughed Phil, trying to joke away the moisture he felt creeping into his eyes. ‘You're a trump, Katie ; but, of course, that’s all nonsense—the looking out, you know.” Katie wasn’t sure of that, however, it were. She would feel as if she were somehow helping Phil, and that would be a comfort. Their little dwelling, though on the same side of the river as the mill, was above it, and around a the riverbank was in plain ' his nights were passed seemed far less ! lonely to him when he remembered that from her window and thinking of him. S80 a month passed by, and Phil per- formed his duties to Mr, Medway’s en- tire satisfaction. There were some, indeed, who considered him too young for his pst, and did not hesitate to say go. But Mr. Medway always answered with a smile : “Well, Squire Dreems recommended him, and guaranteed I wouldn't be sorry I hired him. I've tested him all times o’night ; he's always wide awake and about His business, He does the work of a man, and I get him ten dol- lars on a month’s hire less.” Which was very true, and Mr. Med- way ought to have blushed for it, though, to Le sure, Phil was more than satisfied with what he received. “I'm only two-thirds of a man yet,” he said to his mother, laughingly. “I'm lucky to get the place. There are enough more who would be glad to take it. He kept well up with his classes, too, Le was so ambitious. Miss Cary de- clared that she was proud of him to Katie, and Katie's heart swelled with joy to hear it. One day, early in March, something happened. Mrs. Payson was taken sud- denly and violently ill. Katie, terrified beyond measure, could do nothing but rouse Phil from his sleep; and when the boy, startled by his sister’s white seared face, had brought the doctor, he felt as though he could never sleep again. There was no great cause for alarm, however, “It’s a bad attack of cramp,” said Dr. Daley, with a reassuring smile in Katie’s direction. ‘You're doing just right. hot. The spasm will ease away in a little time.’ *" It was not until nearly night-fall, nevertheless, that Mrs, Payson became perfectly free from pain and quite her- self again. Then Phil, light-hearted enough, and whistling a merry air, took up his lunch-basket and his books and trudged off to his work. Katie, troubled, followed him to the door. “I'd get some else to-night, Phil,” she “You have always been used to sleeping all day. What if one said. But Phil laughed, and opened his dark eyes to their utmost. “I'm as wide awake as an owl,” said he. *‘I couldn’t go to sleep if 1 wanted to. See!” Katie laughed too at the comical, strange expression on Phil's face. But she couldn't help feeling a little anxious as she went solwly back into the house. Suppose Phil should go to sleep, and Mr. Medway have a notion to visit him, as he often did. Katie knew what a sad thing that would be for them all, and how dreadfully Phil would feel ! “It would just break his heart, I know,"’ said she, to herself, “But of course he won't’ Katie's prayer for her brother's wel fare was much longer that night than usual ; and, once in bed, she tossed and tumbled, only to fall at last into an uneasy slumber. More than once before the little clock on the sitting room mantel! struck ten she sprang to the window and gazed down across the wide white river bend, only to see Phil's lamp beaming cheerily in the engine room. How Phil would laugh at her, she thought, feeling really out of pa- tience with herself. “I won't look out again,’ she said. “It’s nonsense, just as Phil said. I will not look out again to-night.” But she did-—once more, The lamp in the engine-room still burned brightly. It would have been a relief to see the light flashing from window to window as she had seen it so often, Katie thought. She could feel then that all was right. Now-- Was that the lamp? It flickered strangely. One instant it died into the ghost of a light, and the next it flared brilliantly. Katie rubbed her eyes in wondering terror. It was no illusion ; the light shining from the engine-room was not clear, steady lamp light, It was red--like fire ! Katie was already hurrying on her clothes. There was a dreadful lump in her throat, and her breath came in short, quick gasps. She did not pause or her boots with their endless rows of buttons ; she pulled on her stockings and rushed swiftly out of her room and down stairs, catching a shawl from the stand as she ran. Behind the kitchen stove hung a pair of Phil's thick woolen stockings, and these she hastily pulled on over her own. There ‘was no question in ber mind as to the course she would take, It was more than half a mile by the road to the mill, ‘he late rains had swelled the river, ov d its banks, but the { her light weight, and over it she flew. | ghe thought that it creaked and swayed under her, and she fancied herself breaking through once or twice, but on ghe sped, her large dark eyes strained and fixed on that flaring red light. It seemed hours to her before she reached themill. She bad been there before to take Phil his lunch once when he had forgotten it, and she knew the way per- fectly well, In at the dark yawning door she darted, and up two or three narrow steps. There was sm ke in the , air—surely. She opened the door of the engine- t room, and closed it hastily behind her, with a quick, shrill cry of dismay. “Phil! Oh, Phil I” For the room was full of smoke, Through it the lamp-light showed pale and dim. Little tongues of flame were | running over the floor before the fur- nace, lapping up a shaving here and | there,and craw ling, snakelike, up the wall very near the window. And Phil sat by the rough table, his face buried in his arms, asleep—so sound asleep and go stupefied by the smoke that Katie's first cry failed to arouse him. She screamed with all her might, and shook him then, “Phil ! dear Phil!” she cried. - fire IV It all happened in very little time. That one last word shrieked in Phil's ear awoke him effectually. He under- stood the situation and sprang to his feet. “Don’t whistle I”! cried Katie, catch- ing his arm. “Don’t rouse the town, Phil. We can put it out.” They fell to work then with a will, After all, it was not much of a battle, There were pails and an abundance of water at hand, and the fire was not really under headway. The flames, though wide-spread, had not begun to burn through the solid floor, which was soon thoroughly flooded. In afew min- utes it was all over, and Phil had opened the window. He turned to Katie then, “Oh who stood pale and trembling, as she bad not trembled before, Katie!" “how did you—"’ «Oh, he cried, chokingly ah { hh. Katie.” Katie, darling, don't, The door opened at that moment. Phil knew who stood there before he heard Mr. Medway’'s voice. “ Heyday! What's all about ¥"’ “There has been a fire, sir,’ answered Puil, readily, though with a shake in his voice. ‘‘But is out now." Mr. Medway stepped into the room without another word, and taking up the lamp proceeded to examine the wall, the floor and the furnace itself care- fully. “(3ibbs must look after this in the morning,’ he said ; and he placed the lamp on the bench again, while Katie and Phil stood by with sinking hearts. Suddenly he looked at Phil's sister. “Why, what are you here for?" he asked, not unkindly. Ah, how easy it woull have been not to tell him--to say that Phil was lone- some and wanted her for company; to say anything but the dreadful truth. But Katie’s honest little nature ab- horred a falsehood. “JI —he was-—I—'’ she stammered, with many painful pauses, *I—" But right here Phil came bravely to the rescue. “T was asleep, Mr, Medway,” besaid, “and if it hadn't been for Katie your mill—"’ “Asleep |" repeated Mr. Medway, his face stern and cold, It was an awful moment, and Katie ended it by springing forward and grasp- ing Mr. Medway's hand. “Oh, if you please,’ she cried, ‘‘may 1 tell you how he happened to do it? Mamaia was ill, and he could not sleep at all yesterday. It was not his fault, sir— indeed it was not. Poor Phil! Oh, ri Mr, Medway was not at all a hard- hearted man, though perhaps a little too intent on his own particular interests. His voice was husky when he spoke to Katie, “How did you happen to see the fire ¥"’ HWhy—I—1-" “She looks out of her window a dozen times a night to see that 1'm all right,” said Phil, with brusque earnestness ; “and she prays for me before she goes to sleep. That's how, Mr. Medway. Oh, Katie, little sister !* “Well! well!” said Mr, Medway, who seemed to be having a great deal of trouble with his throat and eyes. “Well! well!” And he was silent, for what seemed to Katie and Phil, a long, fuss this time, “1 suppose I needn’t—needn’t come here again,” Phil mustered courage to say presently. “ Not come again!" echoed Mr. : “Why not, boy | Of course yours ought to be encouraged, pretty sure you won’t let this happen again,” And he slammed the door behind him, ‘+ Oh, Phil 1”? “Oh, Katie 1” They went home in the morning ear- ly, and Mrs, Payson heard the story of the night’s adventure. “Twenty-five dollars a month, moth- er !*? cried Phil. “Think of that | And it’s all Katie's work, every bit.” But Mrs. Payson, thinking too of Katie's work, shuddered and drew them close, and kissed them botb. A —————— Another Landmark To Go. A Resort that was the Centre of Philadelphia's Trade In Pre- Revolutionary Days. Another pre-revolutionary landmark has within the past week been selected for destruction. The structure in roofed store which wus once known as the London Coffee House, and which stands on the southwest corner of Front and Market streets. It is now occupied by the firm of G. & A. Ulrich, wholesale has been in that family since the year 1817, at which time the business was established by the father of the members of the present firm, It was originally built about the year 1702, by Charles Reed, who bought the lot in 1701 from Letitia, daughter of William Penn. In 1739 Reed’s widow conveyed the property to israel Pemberton, who, on his death in 1751, willed it to his son Johu, on whose death it was sold to the Pleasant family, From the latter's hands it passed in 1706 into those of James Stokes, for what was then stated to be ‘the great sum of £5216 13s, 44." Mr. Stokes’ family heid it and until 1517, passed into the hands of the senior member of the firm which occupies it, now wus first opened asa bE Ak the pro- the the applying to Kes p “Having been advised to license to house, said : keep a coffee house for the benefit of and, merchants and traders, a8 Some people may at times be desirous to be with other liquors besides } to have the Governor's license.’ The place at once becaine popular and was patronized by the Governor and many other persons of Necessary note. as well as by all prominent and well-to-do strangers. Being situated in such a conspicuous, and then central, part of the city, the coffee house soon became a sort of exchange, and public sales of slaves, live stock, wagons and carriages and lesser articles were held in the street in front of its public room. In 1780 the premises were rented to Gifford Dally by John Pemberton, the then proprietor, who being a stanch Quaker, made Dally sign the following agreement before leasing him the house : “On the 8th of 7th mo., 1780, the said Dally covenants and agrees and promises that he will exert his en- deavors, as a Christain, to preserve decency and order in said house, and to discourage the profanation of the sacred name of God Almighty by cursing, swearing, ete., and that the house on the first day of the week shall always be kept closed from public use, that due regard and reverence may be manifested for retirement and the worship of God.” Dally also bound himself to pay a pen- alty of £100 if he permitted any gam- bling with die or cards, and to fulfill this purpose h s first lease was only for one year and his second for twice that length of time. At the end of that period it was used as a store and dwelling, and later simply as a dwelling. Pa, Exchange. ————————— I —— Eggs by Weight, The Pennsylvania Legislature lately passed a law making it necessary that a dozen eggs should weigh one and one- half pounds, We approve of this. The hens have too long had their own way in this business of laying eggs, and they bave constantly defrauded the public. It is high time this outrageous monopoly was crushed, and we are glad that the Legislature is going to doit. If free American citizensare to be imposed upon with impunity by debauched and corrupt chickens the t for which Wm, Penn fought and John Hancock died is a disgraceful failure. Hereafter, the Governor having signed the bill, hens will have to lay two-ounce eggs or emi- grate. The people will submit to their tyranny no longer. They have borne the yolk until it has become unendura- ble. They denounce present prices for present eggs as , and hens they demanded a reform with the deter- mination to draw up this chicken bill and pullet through the legislature. Bryn Mawr (Pa.) Home News. A A A TY It costs eight, good dogs to an ordinary kind of a wife in They come high, ete. Concerning Dogs. Dogs have as many grievances as schoolmasters or farm laborers, For the noble profession of instructing youth mankind has an unlimited admi- ration ; for its individual professors only contumely and ridicule. In the horny-handed sons of toil literature recognizes the unfettered pioneers of civilization ; in Honge we see only un- lettered bumpkins, So with dogs. We magnanimously affect to regard them in poetry and elsewhere as symbols of courage and fidelity, We place them carved in stone at the monumental feet of our chaste matrons as types of eter- nal constancy, and then we treat them in the flesh like-—like dogs. We speak of their ‘‘strength of feeling great be- yond all human estimate,” and throw the name of ‘‘dog '’ at one another as a compendium of abuse, while in com- mon language dog-latin, dog-rose, dog- wheat, dog-grass and dog-cabbuge mean simply as many worthless frauds and colorable imitations. In proportion as we become civilized and further re- moved from that long-tailed, ape-like ancestor of ours, we affect to look down upon dogs like a man who is ashamed of his poor relations. It was not always so. Through the dim past of Egypt the figure of the dog looms large and god- like, though the degenerate heirs of the pyramid-rearing, dog-wol shiping giants of old consider the dog as no whit better than a Christian, In Imperial Rome Alexander Severus spent his hours of leisure rioting with puppies, and Agrippa’s dog, ** had a devil chained to his collar,” but no medern Roman dogs are thus distinguished. Even in Eng- land the sixth class of mischievous gob- lings used to fling down platters and appear in the likeness of wandering black dogs ; but wandering dogs of any color have no superstitious terrors now for the police, Mahomet admitted the dog Katmir, who stood on his legs for 800 years, into Paradise, and the un- tutored Indian of Pope's time believed, we are told, that when after death he should be translated to the sky, * his faithful dog would bear him company.’ The Indian of our days is sufficiently educated tc part company with his faithful dog for a bottle of store rum. Still the dog is not altogether without honor in the savage countrieseven now, The wanton killing of a dog has caused a feud between two fribes of Beaver Indians which time will never heal, though no European Government, with its budgets and surpluses, would ever mobilize a regiment for a wilderness of dogs. [n Fiji the dogs have ranks and titles, for a chief's dog must be spoken of by a different name from that given to a common man's dog ;: and the Ainos of Japan salute a European dog with profound solemnity. Among the Red Indians the baby and the inevitable puppy travel together upon the women's backs, and the sleigh dogs of North America are sufficiently on a par with ordinary half-breed education to be able to ‘“dodge a curse as if it were a brick-bat.’* It is, perhaps, in this very necessity for the sudden avoidance of unexpected missiles of all kinds that dogs have lost much of their ancient dignity. If dogs could have thrown stones in the earlier stages of their evo- lution, they might have been our mas. ters and we their dogs. Observe when a small boy meets a still smaller dog sud- denly round a corner, the abject terror of the biped if the other offers to dis- pute the passage. Note, on the other hand, how that boy will stoop earth- wards for a stone, and how that dog, with ear-splitting yells and closely-de- pressed tail, will scamper down the roadway, with the pebble scunding harmlessly in his rear. In that one in- stant is condensed the whole history of man’s triumph in the struggle for su- premacy. For in some minor respects the dog has always been and is still supe- rior to mankind. It has never sunk for instance, to the level of the anthro, pophagi, for the old adage: “Canis caninam non est’’—there are no canine cannibals still holds good. The friend- ship of a dog, again, is more disinter- ested than that of a man, for in coun. tries where dog licenses—that last in- sult of human tyranny-—are unknown, the poorer the man tho more dog-friends he has; and Dr. Williams’ dog, that gave solemn burial to all the cats {about 100) that he had killed, should put many human savages to the blush. Culindry Economies. A NEW SALAD DRESSING, One tea~ spoonful of dry mustard, half a teaspoon- ful of salt, half a teaspoonful of sugar ; pour about a quarter of a cup of hot water over them, and stir well until all are dissolved. Then add salad oil, drop by drop, and stir well after each addition of oll, to make sure of having just enough. No more oil should be put in than will be taken up or hidden in the mustard ; two raw, unbeaten eggs may then be vigorously stirred in, and, lastly, half of a small teacupful of vinegar, Let these all come to a boil ; it will burn easily, so must be watched and stirred cold before mixing it with the salad. ny Por Av Feu,—Take a good-sized beef-bone with plenty of meat on it, ex- tract the marrow and place a pot on the back of the range, coveiing the beef with three or more quarts of cold water ; cover tightly and allow to simmer all day long. The next day, before heating, remove the grease from the top, and add a large onion which has been stuck full of cloves and roasted in the oven till of a rich brown color ; then add any other vegetables which one may fancy. Riee or vermicelli may be added for a change. Just before serving, burn a little brown sugar and stir through it. This gives a peculiar flavor and rich color to the soup. THE REFRIGERATOR, — Woodiness is very often noticeable in cold meats kept in a refrigerator. To prevent this try scouring out the whole interior with the following preparation : take quarter pound of lime, half pound of washing soda, and one quart of boiling water ; mix all this well together, and leave until cold ; then pour off some of the water and scrub with the sediment, instead of soap. It may take off the varnish, but ought to remove the odor. A good sunning for a day in the yard, with all the compart- ments and closets open, should be given to every refrigerator at least once a year, This is troublesome, but helps to sweeten the interior. Buns. —Two quarts of warm water, two pounds of sugar, one and a half pounds of butter, two ounces of allspice, six eggs beaten by themselves, one pint of yeast. Put the flour, yeast and water together about as thick as pudding, set it by the fire, let it rise to a sponge, and mix the sugar and butter together. Then beat the whole together after rising and knead in flour enough but not very stiff ; make the buns small and brush them over with egg just as you put them into the oven. Peacn Frirrers,—Use for these the evaporated peaches, soak them all night in a little water, and stew gently in the morning ; keep them closely cov- ered, and if the peaches are left in halves the flavor is wonderfully pre- served. Make a batter of one cup of sweet milk, two eggs, a little salt, and flour enough to make a moderately stiff batter. Fry in bot lard and serve with or without cream ; of course, thé cream is a delicious sauce. PixearrLE Propping, — Butter a | pudding dish, and line the bottom and | sides with slices of stale cake (sponge | cake is best), pare and slice thin a large pineapple ; place in the dish first a layer of pineapple, then strew with sugar, then more pineapple, and so on until all is used. Pour over a small teacupful of water, and cover with slices of cake which have been dipped in cold water ; cover the whole with a buttered plate, and bake slowly for two hours, Aunt Esther was trying to persuade little Eddie to retire at sunset, using as an argument that the little chickens went to roost at that time. “Yes,” said Eddie, “but then, aunty, the old hen al- ways goes with them.” A military matter: Major A. and his friend W. met and bad a drink to- gether. After awhile W. asked the major up for another smile, and the major hesitated. “Why, Major,” says W.. *I never knew you so loth to ad- vance on a re-treat.” Public Opinion. There never was a greater myth than a supposed public opinion. What is public opinion ? It is but a sentiment that like a spark has ignited a blade of grass, and Jo! the prairies are in flames, and thousands of wild animals perish, and at times lives of men and domestic animals lost or placed in jeo- pardy. So with the sentiment of public opinion. It often hangs the innocent and permits the release of the criminal. It oppresses unjustly, and lands the most heinous of offences. It applauds the leader who leads his followers to scenes of carnage up to his saddle girths, if needs be, in gore, and yet will hurl him, as did they him who delivered Rome, from the Tarpeian rock, within sight of his fleld of victory. A few fanatics, or a rough rider, an enthusiast or bold adventurer, a clique or clan— soon with their positivenes establish public opinion. Those who imagine that this sentiment is the result of the wise teachings, the living examples, is as fickle as April, and changes its political complexion as the chameleon does it hues, It is nothing and signifies Jess. It is the creature of despotism o<day and of anarchy to-morrow. It has no stability, and, as a reality, had no existence, save in the imagination, A howling mob on the one hand or a opinions of a people ; but these calor feised bodies give shape to sentiments, rarely principles, and the people negs- tively fall into line, and the slogan of public opinion is heard echoing through- Joe thant ena Thorongiiess Sek
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers