TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. Old Time is the Arollest of wags, Aud puzzles the world with his rules; He gave all to-day to the wise, To-morrow he promised the fools. At first Le woade naught but to-day With its joys, its successes and sorrow, Then to keep on good terms with the world tle promised he'd make a to-morrow, The idle rejoiced at the news, Put their hands in their pockets and slept, Believing the promise of Time Would be most religiously kept. They never conceived that the rogue Had promised to-morrow in fun, 80 quietly went to decay, Leaving all to-day's work to be done. At last they woke up but to find To-morrow was really a myth, And thought what they'd do, when too late, If they had the time to do with. They prayed to old Time to return, "Twas merely the wasting of breath, For they found, as he laughed and flew on, That to-morrow was nothing but death. PE TO RNS INGLIS. rE GYPSY PREDICTION. Ezra Alden was in love with Clara | Scudder ; aud, sometimes, in moments of great exultation—for he was a mod- | est youth, as every true lover should be | —he had dared to think that she did not | frown upon his passion. But Clara was the squire’s daughter, | and an heiress, while Ezra was but a | small farmer, and so far from success i ful in that pursuit, that it seemed ab- | surd, as well as impossible, that he | should aspire to the hand of the love sly Miss Scudder. who had been courted | in vain by fine London gentlemen. S0 | he had sighed and cast longing looks from his place in the choir (where Le | sang in a fine tenor voice on Sundays) | into the squire’s pew ; and more than | once he thought pretty Clara blushed brightly, and he knew well enough that | she always smiled sweetly and her voice when she spoke to hun, | sound, and altogether her ward him was not yuraging. Ezra would not be encouraged. He! felt it was useless for him to ask the | squire for his daughter's hand unless | he had a good pot of money in his own | hand with which to back his proposal. So, instead of trying to compass ths desired end by increased industry, he | neglected his little farm more than be- fore, and spent his whole time in wish- ing that he could [ind a pot of money somehow, in the manner of old-fash- ioned stories—at the foot of a tree; under the foundation of his house. 1 beiieve he would even have sought for | it at the end of the rainbow, like the | boy in the nursery rhyme, if he had been told there was a good chance of finding it there. Suddenly a rumor spread abroad that a wonderful gypsy had avpeared, who was telling people’s fortunes that came true in the most remarkable manner, i sad all the countryside was in a state | of excitement on the subject. She ! was of somewhat exclusive character, this madam gypsy, and could only be consulted in a certain place, the | shadow of a wych-elm, in the open air, and during certain hours these hours being between the last rays of the de- clining sun and the first shadows of | coming night, Of course the rumor of | the gypsy’s marvellous fortune-telling reached Ezra Alden, and equally, of | course he was much exercised io mind | concerning it, He found out the place | where the fortune-teller divined these | fair fortunes. One evening after watching the sun | slowly disappear behind the western | hills, be repaired thither, stealthily, and | a little afraid of meeting Clara Scudder somewhere in the vicinity, for the | wych-elm was just on the further side i of the squire’s park. However, he met no one, except a hur- ried squirrel, fast speeding to its home, | and it was even more scared at being | met than he was, so he hastened to the | wych-elm, and there sure enough, was madam gypsy, sitting curled up against the trunk, and looking precisely as if she were waiting for him. She was a very old woman, bent almost double, Her lined and wrinkled face was the golor of butternut, and the tangles of her hair hung in elf<like grizzled locks about her brow, and over her cheeks, But her black eyes had a wonderful brilliaccy and such a keen look that they seemed so see right through him, She was wrapped in a tattered old sear. let cloak, and a hood of the same was drawn well over her head. She gave a quick nod to Ezra, and motioned him to take a seat at her feet, which he did with his heart thumping as if he were before the Delphic oracle, And when she spoke, he had to bend his head and listen very attentively, for not only did she mutter her words iz a very toothless fashion, but she spoke in so low a tone that he had some difficulty in hearing her, But he made out what she said “1 was expecting you, my son, and I know what you come for,” And when she held out a hand even more brown than ber face—a shaking tremulous hand, Then Ezra made haste to cross the palm with silver, that being, as be well knew, the time-honored custom, Ezra had in lus pocket a half crown piece, with a hole in it, and a cross drawn on its face, which he had kept many years for good luck, So, as there could be no more aus. picious occasion than the present for had a caressing | manner to- | But | | disc } i ' in using it, be timidly placed it in the gypsy’s hand, and again bent his ear attentively to listen to her unintelligi- ble mumbling. “I know the desire of your heart, my pretty gentleman,’’ said the gypsy. “it is a certain maiden, not & hundred miles away, only you have the faint tieart that seldom wins a fair lady. But if you could {ind a pot of money, your spirit would be bolder. Listen to me, and obey me, and you shall have your wish. Ezra did listen with all his ears, and as you may suppose, they were just then pretty long and wide and capable of taking in a large amount. LE you possess,’’ proceeded “you must not grow weary search—you must dig and dig, uously, and plant and harvest, again if necessary; and mark my words, in contin- money and the maiden will be yours.” Ezra listened with faith, and departed with joy in his heart. He fulfilled the fortune-teller’s side took to talking of him after gypsy disappeared. Ile not only dug | but he plowed, sowed and harrowed. He seemed taken with a mania for farming, and work which stasteful and mono- tonous, now that he had an object in view, was full terest, At first he dug and dag; looking for his pot of money ; as it did not turn up growing every day more and more in- efforts, got Ezra asked the bors, of “Why, he has taken to work- ing like one posse He's hired a | man, too, and the pair of ’em are at it from the first dawn of daylight till “What on earth into LAs neigh one sed. “Whatever him he's of the answered one. “Lucky man. Just when there's going to be a rise in flour, too, and he has no end of wheat has gol to best crops 1 sple ndid condition,’ “Why, Clara, isn’t that Ezra Alden’s ter one day drove him her pretty pony car “Yes, sir,” returned Clara, int pink stealing into her cheek a past it, in riage. with a farmed it, then?" “There “Has someone else © 3 . way wy wien wowed WV LANAPORT YT aus i®.” The pink in Clara's to a lovely crimson. “Oh, no, papa,” softly : seems Ezra—Mr, Alden, has just d veloped a talent for farmung.” “And a ' remar cheek deepened she said, first-rate talent, 1 should ked the old gentleman. “A man who carn show such a farm us that can hold his head as high as any- one.” Clara's eyes She touched her ponies Her happy thoughts glowed and sparkled- 1 81a guy. rushed off into fast trotting. As the neighbors bad foretold, season. His success at farming having also developed his commercial ability, | he sold all that he had to sell lent advantage, “Well,” said Ezra, as he counted up his gains, and tied them securely in his “I haven't found my pot of money ; but this Jittle pile is not be despised. and I shall keep on, George! 1 wonder if this is what old gypsy meant.” Ezra had some time on his hands now for dreaming. He took but 10 excel By the in 8 much more “I will to thought, agement, I will marry me.” Now some thought it « speak her father, ‘and if he gives me encour ask Clara if she young able for that. “If the squire won't have me,” he aid to himself, **it’s no use to ask Clara. She would never disobey her father. I shouldn’t care half as much for her if she would.” So he took his money-bag in Lis hand and sought the presence of Squire Scudder. The squire sat reading a volume in his handsome, old-fashioned parlor, Being in a very genial mood, he re- ceived Ezra with the most encouraging kindness, and listened to all he had to say with a benignant siaile. “It isnot a great deal,” concluded Ezra, holding up his money-bag, *“‘but there's plenty more where I found this, gir.” “And, pray, where did you find it, Mr. Alden ?'' asked the squire, rather taken aback, “AL the roots of my wheat and bare ley,” answered Ezra, adding with a laugh** to tell the truth, sir, I con- sulted a fortune-teller, and she told me to dig and dig, and 1 would certainly find a pot of money. I haven't found it yet, but I intend to keep on digging, and I don’t doubt but what I shall find it by-and-by.”’ Squire Scudder burst mto a hearty laugh, and kindly patted Ezra on the shoukder. “1 don’t doubt bat you will, my lad,” he said cheerily., “Honest mdustry is the best pot of money any young man ever found. As for Clara, you can talk over that matter with herself— she’s sitting there by thie window, hid. den behind the curtains,” Now that was dreadfully mean of the squire not to havegiven Ezra a hint of Clara’s presence before; but he didn't mean it, It seems quite impossible for these old gentlemen to realize how serious such matters are to boys and girls, Squire Scudder rose with a nod and a smile, and went away, leaving Ezra in dire confusion, staring at the win- dow curtains: and wishing the floor vould open and swallow him, But it didn’t, Instead, the window curtains opened and a lovely young lady stepped out So, Mr. 2 r for- gypsy for- Alden.” she said coming ‘you consulted the tune-teller, too “Oh Miss Se udder y everything,” ~-Clara-—-you have stammered Ezra, chair from which he had risen in his first consternation. “What a terrible fool you must think me,” “But I don't—I have great confi- “Then you consulted her too?” asked Fzra, “Dozens of times all my small silver.” she positively had “Well she got but a single piece from me, that's some comfort,” sald Ezra, laugh slightly. “Was it anything like this?" Miss Scudder, producing one from her jacket and holding it towards Ezra on the palm of her hand like cream. Ezra looked and started, an tie cry. asked i gave oa It was his own lucky silver piece, He glanced into the laughing, blush- ing face ; and then for time the first were and won- this time they scam to look through him-—they before his glance, and themsel under lovely, long They ly brill very, very dark, iant ; but id not { velled ves black “Oh, C murmured Far were the gypsy?” “Of course I was,’ **And you knew lara,” . all the I loved you “Of course 1 dad, follow way of you foolish had to invent a 80. Ezra and Ci telling you In a year ried, AIA were Inar- isis A AO AAS Like the Days of "49, What is claimed to Le as rich a gold strike as has been recorded for years in Colorado was made by E.O. Moody ten or twelve days ago, at the head of Geor- gia and America Gulches, in Summit county, near Breckenridge, Co It was the case § lorado. n the early days that yielded the larg gels aad the coarsest gold ear ng this fact, and that the source Georgia Gulch rest nug- its head. Knowi believing that it was evidence of the gulch gold was in leads yet undiscovered Moody left the scene of his early sum- mer's successful prospecting and went up ths gulch to where he has made hs strike. The ground was covered by a placer patent, owned by Captain latest ise that he would deed him ahalf-inter- n any valuable lead he could disco- Upon this Moody come menced work. He followed ver, promise streak he means be all said he last one rich be- every rica By this to be rich in gold, but t yond precedent. In sinking a six-foot shaft | 6 got out dirt from which he panned out over $500 in wire gold and . beside a pile of rich ore, which 8 full of gold. Then he bégan tracing n a dozen or more places, and in every ness. Much of the gold 1s on bunches of thin, matted wires, which the miners call “*wool.”” Moody has obtained his deed toa half ces of the yellow metal. Captain Ware is not a particle excited, but takes his good fortune very cooly. One gentle- man stated to a reporter recently, with an entire abandonment to the magic of big figures, that Moody would show up $10,000,000 worth of ore in two weeks. assassin AAAS versonal Journalism, Benjamin Franklin the most suc- cefsful editor we ever possessed and the wisest one, wrote on the abuse of the American press, as follows: ‘On examination of the Pennsylvama Ga- zette for fifty years from its commence- ment, it appeared that during that long period scarcely one libellous piece had ever appeared in it. This chaste conduct of your paper is much to its reputation, for it has long been the opinion of sober, judicious people that nothing is more likely to endanger the liberty of the press than the abuse of that liberty by em- ploying it in personal discussions, detraction and calumny. The news. papers have set this state in a bad light abroad. I have seen a European news. paper in which the editor, who had been charged with frequently caluminating the Americans, justified himself by say- ing that he had published nothing dis- graceful to us which he had not taken from our own printed papers,” He Laughs st Locks “Jocks? Yorks wont ¥oop burglars out. Why, I can open any kind of lock that has ever been invented, with out key or combination.” The speaker was a close-shaved, clean-cut, penetra ting looking man. He siood in a lock- smith’s shop on Fourth-and - a-half street, dangling the dial of a combin- ation lock on the end of a bent wire, “Do you make a practice of breaking open safes 277 “I open safes when nobody else ean. That 1s, I open safes when the locks are out of order or the combinations lost, Sometimes a man will oil the lock of his safe and it gets gummed up so that the tumblers won’t work and he Safes sheriff’s sales sometimes and lose their combination, sold at and, combination, When anything of that kind happens they send for me,” “Do you blow them open ?*’ “No. 1 1 i lock is broken s0 that It wont work I drilf a little hole along- side the dial and pick the lock with a small bit of wire If the right, only work to find it and don’t deface the all. It takes me from three seconds to six hours to open a safe a the kind and the method fo safe at £ Hw I employ,’ “*But how can you find the combina- tion. Does it not take along time?” “By testing, upon circumstances. man who set the find it =n a very don’t, it takes study the character of I know hi ity w combination through Wken If I know the combination I few minutes, If I You see, 1 and if can longer. the man, 11 I can strike his character, ar comes to me to say he lost his nation 1 study of him, and in nine cases 10 I can hit it the pul i he did 1 set mn pret a strange } combi out the combination more difficult, Then 1 of the man, and to get it open 1n a few hours, wouldn't do wt " Sale openers himself it is study the lock instead I am sure Oh, no! It to tell vou dangers always watchs how, are in They are by the police, They me ail t k af ty Kee] An eye an y 116 hat he be time. 1 have them 4 : 1 3 x } : my door all hours of the ni Bs there's somewhere trying Pr alive generally No, one I teria t teach you how to it sas associat open is a kind of IOCKS —an learn, The re on betwe to sn ie and tanding as it were. We Bbave thinking.” unders the same way of lock?" asked the scribe, “lean open the best ever made in five or six hours, These littie office safes 1 wouldn’t put that much time on; they don’t pay enough. I {ust take a hammer and break knob off and can gel the safe in about three seconds.” “What do vou get for LG lock that was into Opening safe “For a little three second safe 1 get £10. Fora large safe such as they have in banks and brokers they don't want the $150. “Could you open the great safein the United States treasury?” “Fasily, 1 iid get rid of the time lack and everything in six or séven hours, and wouldn't make any particu- lar fuss about it either. No safe was ever made but It had some weak point y the maker, so he could get into it in case the lock should refuse to respond. 1 lock injured I get oon if the lock broke. Now I know where to find these weak places. 1 can strike within a quarter of an inch of it every time. It is generally covered over by steel or boiler iron, and inches. which 1s easily done, I could | It would not be any trou- safe if they understood locks as I do," | airs tr The Wars s Granite, All over the United States, in the larger cities may be seen great build- ings, handsome and costly specimens of architecture, and structures which are marvels of engineering skill, the carved and polished walls and towers of which once Jay in ragged masses on a little island far out in the bosom of Penob- scot Bay in Maine, This island is the southerly of a picturesque pair known as North Fox and South Fox, each be ing incorporated as a town, named re- spectively North Haven and Vinalhav- en. It was as long ago as 1765 that South Fox saw its first white settlers, and twenty-four years afterward it was incorporated as a town, named as above for John Vinal, Esq., of Boston, somé of whose relatives yet live on the is- land. The southerly half of this sea. girt, town is one solid mass of beauti- ful granite, and the quarrying of this stone has created a pretty village of 2,000 people at one of the many snug coves--Untver's Harbor, For nearly hall a century stone for building and paving has been sent from {nalhaven, but it was not until the decade of 1850-1860 that very much was done. In 1851 Moses Webster and J. R. Bodwell, one » New Hampshire boy, and the other from Massachusetts, went to the rocky island, atid ‘with a capital of about $300 began quarrying operations; machinery, but got out the stone the best way they knew, and then slowly conveyed it to the shore on dragsdrawn by cattle. When the Government built two big fronts in New York har- bor in 1852 or ‘53 the contract for fur- nishing the stone was given to Bodwell | & Webster, who managed to fill the Lill all right, and thus got a good start in the world, Bince then they have pros- quarrying business in the United States employing from 600 to 1,000 men, the volume of trade vanes, paying | $25,000 to $50,000, a month in wages | and keeping the whole island commu. nity happy and presperous, To ses 500 quarrymen, teamsters, blacksmiths, cutters and polishers all at work, "hammer and tongs,” is an { interesting sight, Were it not for the fact that granite is found in strata of { quite uniform thickness, quarrying { would be a most difficult and expensive { operation, and a great part of the stone would be wasted. When a quantity of stone is to be taken out the first thing necessary is to make a “head,” that is to cut downward through the honzon- tal strata until a whole transverse tion of alayer is exposed to tl | tion. Then, at the desired Lack from this head, which a ditch twenty to fifty feet long, the quarrymen what are known as “Miller into the granite. A Miller hole consists of three triang: orifices, drilled closed and some depth into the stcne. Generally one group suffices; occasionally Into these holes “8 SOC we founda- distance resembles drill holes®’ ilar th N togelher, two or three are drilled, are poured tremendous powder, which, whe whole mass of stone from its strata bed. easily by wedges into a series of hole the dimension line. Imn guyed up by heavy wire operated by stationary swing the stone from place to place in quarry, out of their reach: and hard wood are used for est pi Ponderous | by 1,500-pound horses, along 1 VOWATK i charges of sn exploded sta as far as the After th driving It ttle 3 drilled ricks, and Ines, iron on "ne Wi wense der i eperie oy LikBilig, sieam engi lpre ¥ oilers of iron the heavi- Ces, brucs, drawn loundering hops ra sO with great blocks triced up under their axles with chams., The truck wheels being about fifteen feet high, it will seen that a large stone can be carried in | this rear be way without dragging. AAI IOO 555 Courting Sticks of Old. 1 lu early New Eogland days, as back the middle of the eighteenth century, when hospitality was a prac- tice as well as a virtue, there was in houses large assembly room, and there the family and all the | guests and chance callers gathered on winter nights about the blazing fire loge. We know that youth was youth, hy love was love, and young men were id and maidens were shy, and court sip went on tn th How was i$ COmMIDON roo ard and every We read in the on recent oen- Meadow, Mass, by | Prof. Richard 8, Starrs, of that tows, in the winter even ence of young no ‘next used § LAT as most only one Ose J ays yurtshi ip Pe 0881 Di ie in i, every word was look taken notice of 7 admirable vo | tennial of + sume vie ngs for the conveni- was sticks were tubes that would convey from lip to ear sweet and secret whispers. Was this an inven tion peculiar to Long Meadow ? It is a charming picture that this | calls up of Iife in a Puritan household, this tubular love-making, the pretty | gir] (nearly every girl is pretty in the | firelight of long ago) seated in one stiff | high-backed clair, and the staid but | blushing lover in another, handling the | courting stick, itself an open confes- | gion of complacence, if not of true love. | Would the young man dare to say “I {Tove you'' through a tube, and would | he {eel encouraged by the laughing, ten. dor eyes of the girl when she replies through the same passage, “Do tell 7 | Did they have two sticks, so that one end of one could be at the ear and the end of the other at the mouth all the overs, since there P + ' “ ¥y 45 ¥ room.” courting that is, long ng wooden seemly, as the flip went round, for the girl to put her thumb over the end of the tube and stop the flow Of soul? Did the young man bring his stick, and so announce his intention, or did the young lady always keep one or a pair on hand, and 80 reveal both willingness and expectation ¥ It was much more convenient than the telephone, with its ‘hello and proclamation to all listen- ers at the end of the line, St. David's Day, st Ln In days gone by St. Davids’ day was observed by the royalty in Eogland, and in 1605 we read how William IiI wore a leek on St. David's day, “‘pre- sented to him by his sergeant porter, who hath as perquisites all the wearing apparel his majestic had on that day, even to his sword.” The most delioats, the most sensible of all pleasnre consists in promoting the pleasures of others, Up or Down. — An lllinois philanthro- int whos to benefit the poor by teach ng them to eat their bread and butter with tho buttered side down, Ho says that the sense of taste is most acute on the tongue, and that a very small amount of butter ia tight it put in the obviously right spot, FOOD FOR THOUGH. Counsel over enus is crazy A bow bent, at wesk. Humanity judges self, The way 10 get 4 stan start. Do not poverty. Do it it twice, Malice sucks the greatest part of | ong waxsth * $1 alii despise well, that thon m AVES Be 16 ust who throws dirt Talk to the point and stop wi It is not death that tyr, but the « There is no power of gen do the work of toil. If any man offend not it same is a perfect man. True merit like a river it 18, the less noise it makes The secret of happine allow your energies to stagnate, We ought not to judge of men’s mer- its by the use they make of them, The truly valiant dare everything but doing any other body an 3 Choose brave employment naked sword throughout The rays of happin . ALE wien AUB colorless He surely 1s most patience who There is which is far wit a majesiy above the Religion 1s not ¢ but of growth. Genius follows its destination quiet ng a C omy Yass "here are always a fe in the quadrature of Lhe perpeteal motion. Life cor cess of lean is often wise learn. Ni Yer sists Bin to {he ite trouble. Life, rding to ¢ i ¥ i5 COIRPOBeU O04 aoe whieh is past, a dream; is to come, a wish. Deceit and falsehood, veniences they may for at or produce, are, in the Observe system do and undertake. take much ady tus ft. Yourseil, rant depend upon Do not nurse 1 them warm, and avoid that u senseless habit of constantly to them in your conversation. When Fortune often designs the most mischief, Fortune caresses a man is apt to make a fool of | We are linked the future, and our duly to th well fulfilled, will best fi yar daty to the latter that does not know which are of use, and him to know, is but an ign whatever he may know Books are also among n consolers. In the hoar of trouble, or SOrTOW, ' them with cor ence 2 and trust. Perhaps your maste: knows what capital plowman you are; and he never a reaper be- cause you do the plowing so well, Pride is like the beautiful acacia, that lifts its head proud above its neighboring laats.forgettin ig that it, toh, like them, has its rools in the dirt. He is poverty-stricken who is ab gorbed in the one little inclosure of which be holds the title deeds { loses his grasp on the be your 3 and referring comes smiling. she When too 1 hi, she 1, 3 #4 . # ou RAL A RS He those thing: necessary fo yrant wan beswdes truest afflict tion. An's 3 4g ‘ ae rust 1 80 Fem td ae 11% sel irae 2% 13 § AUGIng unl Calumuy crosses seeans, scales mountains and traverse deserts with greater ease than the Scythian Abaris, and, like him, rides upon a poisoned ArTOw. Courage that grows {rom constitution the man when he has occasion for it: courage which arises from a sense of duty acts in a uniform What 1 object to in Scoteb philoso- phers in general is that they reason upon man as they would upon a divin- they pursue truth without caring if it be useful, To be always intending to lead a new Indolence is a delightful but distres sing state; we must be doing something to be happy. Action is no less neces than thoughts to the instinctive tendencies of the human frame. We begin life by demanding vast material for happiness; long before middle life the reasonable mortal owns that happiness is an elusive essence, rarely found when sought as an end, 1t is a great and noble thing to cover the blemishes and to excuse the fail ings of a friend: to draw a curtain be- fore his stains, ‘and to display his per. fections; to bury his weaknesses in gilence, and to proclaim his virtues upon the house top. Real forgivness is that which we ac- cord to a child who has been naughty and now is penitent. Forgiveness is the right thing from us all to each other. Full of faults and shortoom- mgs we knew ourselves to be, cannot we forgive the like frailties in others? Temptation is a fearful word It inaicates the beginning of a possible series of infinite evil. 10 is the vi of an alarm bell, whose a iy sounds may reverberate through eter- pity Like the sudden, sharp cory of “Firel” in the night, it should rouse us to instantaneous activity, and brace every muscle to its highest tension,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers