a I cannot tell you, Genevieve, how oft it comes to He That rather District m That row of Aocutionitts “Who stood so straight in line And charged at standard literature with amiable design. ‘We did not spare the energy in which our words were cl We gaye the meaning of the text by all the light we had; © But still I fear the ones “who wrote the lines we read so free ‘Would scarce have reo ognized & their work in District Numbet T Outside the snow was mooth and clean— the winter's thick} laid dust; The storm it made the windows speak at every sudden gust; Bright sleigh-bells threw us pleasant words when travelers would pass; The maple trees slong the road stood shiv- ering in their ¢ Beyond, the white- browed cottages were nestling cold and dumb, And far away the mighty world seemed beckoning us te come— The wondrous world, of which we conned what has beer and might be, In that old-fashioned reading class, of Dis- trict Number Three. Wo took a hand at History—its altars, spireg and flames— important names ; We wandered ghough | Biography, and gave our fancy And with some fan fell “good only for ond day; In Remance and Philosophy we settled many & point, And made what peems we assailed to ¢ reak at every joint; And many authors that we love, you with me will agree, Wore first time introduced to us in Dis trict Number Three. in love— You recollect Susannah Smith, the teach: er's sore distress, ‘Who never stopped at any pause —a sort of day express? And timid young Sylvester Jones, of in* consistent sight, Who stumbled on‘ the edsy words and read the hard ones right? And Jennie Green. whose doleful voice was slways clothed ih black? And Samuel Hicks. whose t« Ones, induced the plastering all to ¢ rick 7 And Andrew Tubbs, whose various modths were quite x show to see? Alas! we cannot find them now in District Number Three. And Jasper Jenckes, whose tears would flow at each pathetic word (He's in the prize-fight business now, and hits thie Hard Eve heard): And Benny Bayne, whose every tone he murmures d as in four ‘His tongue is not so timid now auctioneer); And Lanty Wood, whose voice was just endeavoring Had to change, And leaped from hoarse to fiercely shrill with most sur prisin TANR® ; Also his siste r ary Jape, full of prudish glee. Alas! they re both in higher schools than District Number Three : he is an &0 So back these various ve oipes come, though long the years have grown sound uncommonly distinct through Memory's fele “n ne And some are full of melody, and bring a sense of cheer, And some can smite the rock of time, and summon forth a tear; But one sweet voice comes back whenever sad 1 grieve, And sings a song. and that js yours, O peer less Genevivve, It brightens up the olden limes, and throws a smile at me A silver wn amid the clouds of District Number Three, -— Wy vill Carleton, is Harper's Magagine, ————— on And to me, Two Hearts So True. “pittle Blogaom, you make it so hard for me to say good-bye to you." “When 2?" The innocent, surprised, inquiring face—rrenwntiating was indeed difficult for John Burrpws. He touched a dim- ple in her theek, and then aeurl of her hair, as he might have touched flowers on a grave, perhaps: She shook back the silly. wrinkles im- patiently. “Wheny John Be i without a smile, pretty ps she was. “Nelly, sit down here for a moment.” They sat down on the pretty crimson couch before the fire, Seeing trouble in his face she put heérfhand ih his dnd he smootheil out the little roseleaf mem- ber upon his broad palm, more ;than ever confident hi he looked abit} that he was right, “Nelly, you know I love you.” “Yes, With a blush, for He hid neyer said it before. “And Lam very sorry.” “Why #77 after a pause of bBewilder- ment. “Because you are a delicate little flower, reeding care and nursing to Step your bloom bright and I am going to a hardy rough life; among, privation, ever and malaria, which will try even my powerful constitution, and where you must not go.” “You hte going to the dar West?" “Yes. My mother must have a home in her old'Age.’ She is strong now, but time is on her. You know ull that she tothe pray 11 wi Ua “Yes, she has been a good mother. But you shall take me too, John.” She won her way into his arms against this will, ea dhll 12519011 {UBUD “You will take me, too?’ “No. Did I nottell You that you side hard for me good- broke & ath A” 132 2» lo “John, , what, could I do, without | you # He took the litle curousing: isn me we i AR . +9 ten years yet, Nelly.” “And then I shall be thirty years old.” “*Y es, married and with little chil- dren, seeing at last that yeur old lover, John Burrows, was right.” ‘‘He rose to his feet, “John!” in terror. 1. “Yes, I am going, Nelly, Little one —you look 80 much like a woman now, with your steadfast eyes—hear me: I did not foresee that you love me—that I school girl when I saved you from drowning last summer, and your satch | of books floated away down the river and was lost, I came here to see Gregory, not you. I could not help Joving you; but did not think until to-night that you cared so much for me, Nelly, But, child, you will forgst me,’ “Never!” He want on “Nelly, I shall hunger for you day and night, more and more, as time goes on and I get older, lonelier, more weary. But 1 shall never hope to see you again. Now give me your hand,” She gave him both. He raised them to his lips, but before she could speak again he was gone. Shivering violently, she went to the fire ard stood there trying to warm herself. She understood it all now for a trip to New York. He had known that he was not coming back when she had bégged him to bring her his photo- graph from the great metropolis, but was going on—on—into the dim distance. This is why he had not prom- ised, It was getting late—she was so cold— she had better go to bed. She would not go into the parlor to bid her father and aunt and Gregory good night; so she crept silently up to her own room. There the very weight of grief upon her lulled her to sleep. But when she awoke her grief sprang upon her like some hidden monster who had lain in wait for ber all night. Her misery terrified her. Why should she not die? Why should she ever rise from that bed ? But when they called her she sprang up hastily, dressed and went down stairs, and they were too busy talking to notiee that she did not know what she was doing. But, by and by, when her brother reached more coffee, and observed that “John Bur rows and his mother went to New. York on the first train this morning." she tried to rise unconcernedly from the table, und fell'in a dead faint on the carpet among them, When Nelly came to she was undjessed and in bed, and Aunt Mary was damming stockings at the foot. “Oh, let me get up, Aunt Mary! I don't watt to le here IV “Now, Nelly, be reasonable ! Youare sick.” “Oh, Aunt Mary; I'm not.” for some t you haverthe old box of curiosities in ‘my room to look over, Will you?” “I don’t know. "* Aunt Mary went for them. Nelly shut her eyes, and let the wave in all its bitterness surge over her once, when Mise Golding came back, bringing a box of old mahogany, black and glossy with time, “There! —setting it on the beds With 8 wintry little smile of thanks she liftea the cover. The old mahog- any box contained strange things Pictures on wood and ivory, illumins- ted manuscripts, webs of strong lace, antique ornaments, ancient embroider ies, great packages of old letters, sealed flasks of unfamiliar perfume, ancient brooches of red. gold, fingeér-rings of clumsy-set gems tied together with faded ribbons, a knot of bair fastened together with a golden heart, the silver hilt of a sword, and lastly, a tiny octa- gon portrait of an old man, done in chalk upon a kind of vellum and en- closed in a frame of tarnished brass, “Who is this that is so ugly, Aunt Mary 7? “That, they say, is my great grand- father, Nelly.” “What is it painted on-this queer stuff “Well, it is a kind of leather, I be. lieve, They used to write on it in old- “He is uncommonly ugly, isn’t he ? | said, Nelly, wearily. As she spoke the little case fell spart in her hands, A yellow, folded paper was revealed. She opened it and saw that, it, was, written upon. 7 “Why, bless my soul, what have you up in as alarm, '' She it from Nelly's hand. seid Te cam bo the wl ‘she cried, Nelly looked on in dumb auroras Aunt Mary read a few words, and then | rushed away in wild agitation: to LA Siok TA and se much confused talking she never heard before, By and by they all waited upen her iu a body. “Nelly,” said her father, sitting down upon the foot of the bed, “you are an heiress,” “This is old Grandfather Golding’s will I” exclaimed Aunt Mary, flourish- ing the bit of paper. “Jt seems to we he was very eeccen- trie,” Gregory condescended to explain, ‘““He was very rich and bad some hard sons and some grandsons who promised to be harder, and he fell out with the whole set, who were waiting for him to die. He declared that no money of hi“ should encomrage the young people's excesses ; a little poverty would help the family, and the fourth generation would appreciate his money and proba- bly make good use of it, “When he died no will could be found, and though there was a famous struggle for the property, it went into the hands of trustees, through the oath of the lawyer who drew up the will, and there it has been, descending from one person to another and accumulating in value, until you and I, Nelly, are as rich as Croesus,” “How, Gregory 7" “Ain't we the fourth generation ? Father was the only child, we his only children ; all the back folks are dead and it slides down to us on greased wires, Hurrah for Grandfather Gold- ing I” “Is this true, father ?" “Yes, my dear. The property is chiefly in Leeds, England, The house- keeper who came over last summer, you know, happens to kpow all about it. It is in safe bands and our claim is in- disputable,’’ What did Nelly do ? The little goose ! Instead of flying off in thoughts of car riages, and dresses of cloth, of gold and a trip to Europe, the pillows and breath: *‘Oh, John I" And it was no castle in air. » Three months proved that Nelly Gold- ing was the mistress of gold mutold almost. And then a little note went to Kansas, saying : she buried her face in murmured under her John! Oh, dear, dear the Dear Jous: a fortune Will ww you witl for me now? NzioLy. I am waiting £ you come And he came instantly ; and though some might have sneered al his readi- ness, the heart of the wife was always at peace, She knew that John Burrows loved her truly. Grandfather Golding’s money built up a commodious Western town paved streets, raised rows of shops, erected dwelling houses, founded banks, libraries and churches; and Nelly finally lived ‘out West.” But she had opportunities of seeing pioneer life, and she said: ‘John was right:l should have died in a year had 1 lived in poverty.” AAA RS SNA Why Mechanics Don't Get On. —— We were much interested the other day in drawing from one of the old practical mechanics of Cleveland the secret of hispuccess., Said he: *‘1 have always made it a rule to do my work so well that it left a good impression on my employer,”’ There is more in this than at first appears. Hard work is j one thing, conscientious work is an- f other. A hard worker may outwardly conform to all the requirements of the shop ; he may also be in his place at the starting of the machinery; he may take short noonings, and be “may be among the last to drop his tools at night, but after all he may utterly fail to get on in the world, and why? Let our experienced informant answer : | know of a young man of just that kind. He works hird enough and wants to succeed, but some how he can’t. He came to me for council, and I found out that he was slighting his work. That is, in his anxiety to turn off a large amount, he neglected the finish which always tells on good work. The con- sequence will be that, unless he makes a change, when times are dull he will be one of the first to be dropped by his employer.’’ Superintendents and fore men notice these defects more closely than many are aware. The man who slides over his task, who lacks in thoroughness, who lets an unfinished piece of work leave his bands, is mark- ed. Inthe unwritten law of the shop he is barred from promotion, while the conscientious workman is morally cer- tain of advancement. Is the ten- dency of the day in the direction of better finish to work? We think it i As machinery is brought into competi. tion the strife will be to secure superi- ority in cheapness, simplicity and finish, Here it is that the thorough workman | brings into play all the resources of hia skill and honesty—his ‘‘mechanical’ moral sense,” it has aptly been called. Here it is, too, that the slovenly, or ’| enreless, or hasty workman utterly fails. There are some forms of bad work that can be deftly covered up, but the com- of life bring the inevitable his heart in the work ; ‘who no’ only does his task. b Women in India, nine Degradation Put Upon the Wife and Widow, On the day of her wedding she is put into a palanquin, shut up tight and carried to her husband’s house. Hit erto she has been the spoiled pet of her mother ; now she is to be the little slave of her mother-in-law, on whom she is to walt, whose command she is implicitly to obey, and who teaches her what she is to do to please her husband ; what dishes he likes best and how to cook them. If this mother-in-law is kind she will let the girl go home occasionally to visit her mother, Of her husband she sees little or noth- ing. She is of no more account to him than a little cat or dog would be, There is seldom or never any love be- tween them, and no matter how cruelly she may be treated she can never com- plain to her husband of anything his mother may do, for he would never take his wife's part. Her husband sends to her daily the portion of food that is to be cooked for her, himself and the children. When it is prepared she piaces it on a brass platter and sends it to her husband’s room. He eats what he wishes, and then the platter is sent back with what is left for her and her children. They sit together on the ground and eat the remainder, having neither knives, ferks nor spoons. While she is young she is never allowed to go anywhere, The little girls are married as young as three years of age, and should the boy to whom she is married die the next day she is called a widow, and is from henceforth doomed to perpetual widow- hood—she can never marry again, As a widow she must never wear any jewelry, never dress her hair, sleep on a bed-—nothing but a piece matting spread on the bard brick fi and somet The never of iT, that and no matter how cold the night may be, imes, in fact, not even she must have no other covering than the thin garment she has worn in the day. She must eat but one meal of food a day, and that of in two weeks ste must fast twenty-four hours. Then not a bit of food, not a drop of water or medicine must pass her even if the coarsest kind : and once lips—not she was dying. She must never sit down nor speak in the presence of her mother-in-law, unless to do so. Her food must be cooked and eaten apart from other women's. She degraded woman. She may never even look on at any of the marriage cere. monies or festivals, It would be évil omen for her todo so. She may have been a high-caste Brahminie woman, but on her becoming a widow, any, even the lowest servant, may ordes her to do what they do not like to do, No weman in the house must ever speak one word of love or pity to her, for it is supposed that if a woman shows the slightest commiseration to a widow she will immediately become one herself. It is estimated that there are 50,000 widows in India under sixteen years of age. The prevalence of suicide among young females is so great that it has been brought to the attention of the courts. This can traced to the oppressive control excercised by the mother<in<daw in bousehold matters over the daughter-in-law, independently of and unchecked by the interference of the husband. The son is expected to take the part of the mother against the wife, she commands her is a disgraced, an be I AOS A Mores and Materials. All rich, costly, fancy fabrics are imitated in more ordinary tissues, such as woolen brocade and glazed woolen, in linen and cotton goods, Skirts for suits of these figured materi- als are very narrow, and when of cost- ly tissues they are invanably of alpaca, or of ordinary faille covered with fancy drapings. Sometimes the undershirts have two deep lace flounces, which fall over a silk plaiting, while the overdrese is plaited. The *“‘coquille’ apron is every suitable for light fabrics, It is sewed to the belt in close plaits, which are folded down underneath. The plaits become wider toward the back, so as to form a kind of shell trimming, which is taken in with the draping. This same arrangement of draping is below the tournure disposed in two shell-shap- ed puffings, the lowest one fastened against the lower part of the skirt un- a | der ribbon loops in the colors of the tunic, - For skirts of light fabrics puff. ings and full drapings are mest used, Skirts for young women are covered with tiny flounces alternating in em- broldery and lace, Satinetsare striped or stamped with designs of birds’ beads, flowers, ete. Painted satinets are of a very fine q of goods, and are generally trim with imitation brownish lace, Stamped piques will also bo employed. Scant mantillas are to be worn over dresses of this kind They will beof Valenciennes, ma deep rufiies to match, Old point and Valenciennes laces are pieferred to any neck ruchings are the styles, as well as large “‘pierrot’’ collars. Many fichus are in one piece. The most suitable style for a rather stout figure is the Marie Stuart shape. It forms a very narrow vest, which terminates in a point on the waist. A becoming style for a slight person is in the shape of an sce of clubs turned upward, which makes the bust appear larger, Cloaks of fancy woolen goods dre to be much worn, A very good quality of tartan is employed for this purpose, The cloaks serve for earriage wear, dusters and waterproofs, The favorite color for these is “pain beni.’ The shape is a shirred Prussian blouse, with the sleeves broad at the hand and raised on the shoulders, where they are often gathered. These garments are lined with heavy faille in the same color, which is sewed plainly against the goods, 80 as to form a kind of body for the shirrs to sit against. These blouses may also be lined with silk or satin In the new shades, in striped or plaid designs. Many of these are of ‘corah des Indes,” lined with satin merveilieux in bright hues, Some of these garments will be of ecru tulle lace, lined with corash. They will also be the rage for children, and are beautiful when of red foulard or of **Adrianople,’’ made so as to complete- ly cover the toilet, Children from 5 to 6 years of age wear these blouses with large Aureole hats and red socks, A ————— A A —— What They Knew Four Thou- sand Years Ago. From one of these books, compiled after the manner of our modern ency- clopsedias, and the compilation of which is shown to have been made more than H000 years B. C. it has been ascertained, which has long been supposed, that Chaldea was the parent land of astron- omy ; for it is found from this compila- tion and from other bricks, that the Babylouians catalogued the stars, and named the constellations ; that they ar- ranged the twelve constellations that form our present zodiac to show the course of the sun's path io the heavens 3 divided time into weeks, months into years ; that they divided the week, as we now have if, into seven days, six being days of labor, and the seventh a day of rest, to which they gave a name from which we derivéfl our word *“‘Sab- bath,’ and which day, as a day of rest from all labor of every kind, they ob- served as rigorously as the Jew or the Puritan. The motion of the heavenly bodies and the phenomena of the weather were noted down, and a con- nection, a8 I have before stated, de- tected, as M., de Perville claims to have discovered, between the weather and the change of the moon. They invented the sun-dial to mark the movements of the heavenly bodies, the waler clock to measure time, and they speak in this work of the spots on the sun, a fact they only could have known by the aid of the telescopes, which it is supposed they possessed, from observations that they have noted down of the rising of Tenus and the fact that Layard found a crystal Jens in the ruins of Ninevah, The “bricks” contain an account of the deluge, substantially the same as the narrative in the Bible, except that the names are different. They disclose that houses and lands were then sold, leased and mortgaged ; that money was loaned at interest, and that the arket-gar- deners, to use the American phrase, “worked on shares; that the farmer when plowing with his oxen, beguiled his labor with short and homely songs, two of which have been found, and, to connect this very remote civilization with the usages of te-day, I may, in conclusion, refer to one of the bricks of this library, in the form of a note, which is to the effect that visitors are requested to give the librarian the num- ber of the book they wish to consult and that it will be brought to them ; at the perusal of which one is disposed to fall back upon the exclamation of Solo- mon, ‘“That there is nothing new under the sun.”’—Chief Justice Daly, in Pop- ular Science Monthly. A ———— How He Helped Them Oyer. ———— Two of our belles while walking out the other day came to a ditch near the railroad grade at Montelair which they did not know how to get over. Seeing a young man coming along the road they appealed to him for help, where- upon he pointed behind them with a startled air and yelled out “Snakes I" The way those girls crossed that diteh —_ Agricultural. The raising of sheep is of the greatest benefit to the land, because wherever they feed new and sweet grasses grow and flourish, and the weeds are destroyed, Farmers should raise tutnips and feed them to sheep, Waar Ax OLp Farwer Bays. ~This is the advice of an old man who has tilled the soil for forty years, I aman old man vpward of three score years, during two score of which I have been rich and have all I need ; do not owe a dollar; have given my children a good education, and when I am called away shall leave them enough to keep the wolf from the door. My experience has taught me that 1. Oneacre of land well prepared and well tilled produced more than twe which received only the same amount of labor used on one, 2. One cow, horse, mule, sheep or hog well fed is more profitable than two ke & on the same amount mecessary to keep one well, 8. One acre of clover or grass is worth more than two of cotton where no grass or clover is raised. 4. No farmer who buys oats, corn or wheat, fodder and hay, can keep the sheriff from the door to the end, 5. The farmer who the papers, sneers at book farming and improvements, always has = leaky roof, poor stock, broken down fences, and complains of bad “‘sea- son.” 6. The farmer who is above is busi- ness and entrasts it to another to man- age soon has no business to attend to, 7. The farmer whose habitual bev- erage is cold water is healthier, wealth- ier and wiser than he who does not re- fase to drink. GerTING Rip SToMrs. Ex- Sheriff Jokn T. Pressly gave a noval entertainment at his farm northwest of the city, yesterday afternoon, which was witnessed by at least a hundred of his friends from the city and washugely en- joved. Mr. Pressly has one of the finest farms in Marion county, most of it un- der cultivation. In several, however, which had been lately cleared, were a number of large stumps, and after work~ ing at them for several weeks the rotund ex-official secured the servicesof “Prof.” Jenny, of Lafayette, whom he em- ploved to blast the remaining ones out with “Hercules powder,” as the ‘professor’ styled it, which, how- ever, is nothing less than dynamite. After blowing out a number of them singly with great success, Mr. Pressly conceived the idea of blow- ing up all the stumps in a forty acre clearing simultaneously, and this was the entertainment which the visitors witnessed yesterday after- noon. The field selected contained at Jenst forty acres, and not less than forty huge stumps dotted its surface. Iliols were drilled in the roots of these, on a level with the ground, and cartridges were inserted and connectad with a bat- tery by means of wires, All the pre liminary arrangements were perfected about noon yesterday, and the blast touched off about half past two o'clock. The work of Lhe explosion was entirely satisfactory, and every stump was blown to atoms. Pieces flew upward two or three hundred feet and were picked up several hundred feel away from where they originally steod. The experiment was entirely satisfactory, and will probably be repeated by other farmers in that vicinity. Indianapolis J wal. ne nt In Paying For His Whistle. Not many years ago, when a lofty building was on the point of completion, the mason was in the habit of whistl- ing to the Ilaberer who attended him whenéver he wanted a fresh supply of mortar, and as the scaffold on which he wrought was rather small, this oc- cured very often during a day's job. A joiner, who was fitting in a win- dow immediately underneath, noticed Pat answer dutifully to every call from the mason, and thought of playing a trick on him by imitating the whistle, and thus be brought him a hodful of mortar when there was ne room for it. The mason told Pat that he bad not whistled, so he had no other alterna tive than to trudge back with the load. This having occurred the third time dur- ing the day, Pat thought he would watch to hear where the whistle came from. He had not watched long with hod on his shoulder when he heard the identical whistle underneath where he never reads OF
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers