VOL. 41.
Ile Huntingdon Journal
J. R. DeRBOR.ROW
PUBLISHERS AND PROPRIETORS
°glee in new JOURNAL Building, Fifth Street.
T[IE HUNTINGDON JOURNAL in published every
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Professional Cards•
11 CALDWELL, Attorney-at-Law, No. 111, 3rd street.
/ . Office formerly occupied by Messrs. Woods &
[apl2,'7l
A. B. BRUMBAUGH, offers his professional services
to thecommfinity. Office, No 523 Washington street,
one door east of the Catholic Parsonage. [jan4,ll
STOCKTON, Surgeon Dentist. Office in Leieter'e
1-4., building. in the room formerly occupied by Dr. E.
J. Greene, Huntingdon, Pp. [apl2B, '76.
GEt). E. 6RLADY, Atto ney-at-Law, 405 Penn Street,
Huntingdon, Pa. [n0v17,'75
GL. ROBR , Dentist, office in S. T. Brown's new building,
. Nu. 62.0, Penn Street, Unntingdon, Pa. [ap12.71
T r W.. BUCHANAN, Surgeon Dentist, No. 228, Peun
. Street, Huntingdon, Pa. [mehl7,ls
1 1 C. MADDEN, Attorney-at-Law. Office, No. —, Penn
11. Street, Linn ungdon, Pa. [apl9,ll.
t r . FT . li in Nii ,a LlN P, S o C nt i p lO t CK,
attentionA tor g n i ej e - n at t - o La a w n ,
le H ga u l u b ti u n s g i:
71s. Office, 229 Penn Street, corner of Court House
[dec4,i2
S Y r% A o N ni t.7 , S e
, B .p L e A u l n n, s
t A re t e tzn t e h y r - e a e t-L d a w w n ,
e n s t t i
o n fcl
3r n (i
Street. Utu34,11
TW. MAI TERN. Attorney-at-Law and General Claim
. Agent, Huntingdon, Pa. Soldiers' claimB against the
Government for hack-pay, bounty, widows' and invalid
pensions attended to with great care and promptnees. Of
fice on Penn Street. [jan4,ll
JR.DI Bl ROV, A t t:rney- rt - L Huntingdon,
. willraceintheevera softing
county. Particular attention given to the settlement of
estates of decedents. Office in the Jotacu. building.
T S. GEISSINGER, Attorney-at-Law and Notary Public,
ii. Huntingdon, Pa. Office, No. 2.30 Penn Street, oppo
site Court House. [febs,'7l
1) A. ORBISON, Attorney-at-Law. Patents Obtained.
It. Office, 331 Penn Street, llnntingdon, Pa. [my3l.'7l
(I E. FLEMING, Attorn'y-at-Law, Huntingdon, Pa.,
IJ (Aloe in Monitor building, Penn Street. Prompt
and careful attention given to all legal business.
(angs.'74-6mos
VTILLIAM A. FLEMING, Attorney-at-Law, Hunting
don,, Pa. Special attention given to collections,
and all other legal business attended to with care and
promptnese. Office, No. 229, Penn Street. [apl9,'7l
School and Miscellaneous Books
GOOD BOOKS
FOR THE
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
The following is alist of Valuable Books, which will be
supplied tram the Office of the Huntingdon JOURNAL.
Any - one or more of these books will be sent post-paid to
any of our readers on receipt of the regular price, which
is named against each book.
- .
(87L..t L. F.) New American Farm Book $2 50
Allen's L. F.) American Cattle.. 2 50
Allen's (R. L.) American Farm Book
Alleu's (L. F.) Rural Architecture
Allen's (V.. L.) Diseases of Domestic Animals
American Bird Fancier
American Gentleman's Stable Guide.
American Hose Culturist.
American Weeds and Useful Plante.,
Atwuud Country and Suburban nous.
Atwood's Modern American 'iom.teads* ......
Baker's Practicai and Scientific Fruit Culture*.
Barber's Crack Shot*.
Barry's Fruit Garden
Itell'S Carpentry Made Easy
Bement's Rabbit Fancier
Bicknell's Village Builder and Supplement. 1 Vol 12 OU
Bicknell's Supplement to Village Builder* 5 0()
Bogardus' Field Cover, and Trap Shooting•. 2 00
hammer's Method of Making Manures....„...
Boussingault's Rural Economy 1 60
Brackett's Farm Talk , paper, lOcts.; c10th....
Breck's New Book of Flowers
Brill's Farm-Gardening and Seed-Growing
Broom-Corn and Brooms paper, socts.; cloth
Brown's Taxidermist's Manual*
Bruckner's American Manures*
Buchanan's Culture of the Grapeand Wine making*
Cider-Maker's Manual*
Flower-Garden Directory
Buist's Family Kitchen Gardener
Burger' American Kennel and Sporting Field*
Burnham's The China Fowl*
Burn's Architectural Drawing Book* ,
Burns' illustrated Drawing Book*
Burns' Ornaineut3l Drawing Book*
Burr's Vegetables of Americas
Caldwell's Agricultural Chemical Analysis
Canary Birds. Paper 50 cts Cloth
Churlton's Grape-G rower'. Guide
Cleveland's Landscape Achitecture*
ClA's Disea4es of Sheep.
Cobbett's American Gai-dener.
Cole's American Fruit Book
Cole's American Veterinarian 75
(nutted and Cooking Food for Domestic Animals• 2O
Cooper's (lame Fowls• 6 00
C' , orts-tt's Poultry Yard and Market.pa.socts., cloth 75
Croft's Progressive American Architecture—.
Cummings' Architectural Details lO 00
Cummings & Miller's Architecture* lO 00
Copper's Universal Stair-Builder 3 50
Dadd's Modern Horse Doctor, 12 mo 1 50
D old's American Cattle Doctor, 12 mo 1 50
Pa id's American Cattle Doctor, Bvo, cloth• 2 50
Mold's American Reformed Horse Book,B vo, cloth• 2 To I
Da.la's Muck Manual 1 25
Darwin's Variations of Animals & Plants. 2 vols
[new ed.]
Dead Shot; or, Sportsman's Complete Guide* 1 75
Detail Cottage and Constructive Architecture* lO 00
De tioe's Market Assistant* 2 60
Diuks, Mayhew, and Hutchison, on the Dog*
' , owning's Laud cape Gardening
Dwyer's Horse }lo k*..
Eastwood on Cranberry
E2gleston's Circuit Rider* 1 75
Eggleston's End of the World 1 50
Eggleston's Hoosier School-Master 1 25
EAglenton's Mystery of Metropoliscille...... 1 50
Eggleston's (Geo. C.) A Man of Honor
Ifund Hook fur Fruit Growera*Pa.,6oc.; do 1 00
Elliott's Hand-Book of Practical Landscape Gar
tbming*...e
Ellb•Wsill and shade Treee.
E liott's Western Fruit-Grower's Guide...
ErAeth'A School liuu4e Architecture*
Ev,lry I lorse Owner's Cyclopedia:.
Yield's Pear Culture.
Flat Culture. [Seven Prize Essays by practical grow-
Flint tCliarles L.)011 Grasses* 2 50
Flint's Mikh Cows and Dairy Farming* 2 50
Frank Forester's American Game in its Season* 3 00
Frank Forester's Field Sports, 8 vo., 2 vole . 8 00
Frank Forester s Fish and Fishing, Svo., 100 Engs*.. 3 50
Frank Forester's Horse of America, 8 vo., 2 vole—. 10 00
Frank Forester's Manual for Young Sportsmen, BTO 3 00
French's Farm Drainage 1 60
Fuller's Forest-Tree Culturist 1 50
Fuller's Grape Culturist 1 50
Fuller's Illustrated Strawberry Culturist 2O
Fuller's Small Fruit Culturist 1 51
Fulton's Peach Culture
Gardner's Carriage Painters' Manual
Gardner's How to Paint*
Gertin's Poultry-Breeding
amid's American Stair-Builder's
Gould's Carpenter's and Builder's Assistant,
Gn.gory on Cabbages
Gregory on Onion Raising*
Gregory on Sfinasbes
Gtlc:non on )filch Cows.
Guillantne's Interior Architecture*,
Gun. Rod, and Saddle*.
llallett:s Builders' Specifications*,
Itallett'n Builders' Contracts.,
Ilarney's Barns, Out-Buildings, and Fence 5........--. 800
liarris's Insects Injurious to Vegetation... Plain $4; _
Colored Engravings
Harris on the Pig
Hodges' on Sorgho or the Northern Sugar Plants .
Helmsley's Hardy Tress, Shrubs, and Plante*
enderson's Gardening for Pleasure-- ......
Hegdersou Gardening for Profit
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SPECIAL'
:NG A
PRE
Ely VIM& Plum
Forbid Them Not.
There is not a f wee ter story told
In all the blessed Book,
Than how the Lord, within his arms,
The little children took.
We love him for the tender touch
That made the leper whole,
And for the wondrous words that healed
The tired, sin-sick soul.
But closer to his loving self
Our human hearts are brought,
When for the little children's sake
Love's sweetest spell is wrought.
For their young eyes his sorrowing face
A smile of gladness wore—
A smile that for his little ones
It weareth ever more.
The voice that silenced priest and scribe
For them grew low and sweet,
And still for them his gentle lips
The loving words repeat.
"Forbid them not!" 0 blessed Christ,
We bring them unto thee,
And pray that on their heads may rest
Thy benedicite!
Ely *fini-Etlitt.
MY BEST FRIEND.
I was twenty-one—the possessor of
eighty thousand dollars in cash, and owner
ot:a handsome residence on one of the
stylish thoroughfares of a large city.
No governor, no guardian, no maiden
aunt, no bachelor uncle to object to my
disposing of myself and means according
to my fancy.
She who gave me being had departed
from this world of change and succession
ere I could remember. My remaining
parent, engrossed in merchandise and bank
stock, had no time to spare in looking after
his heir ; consequently I was placed in the
hands of a nurse, and as soon as my age
would permit, was bundled off to an in
stitution to be "crammed."
Before reaching Lily majority, I received
a telegram to hasten home as my father
had received a shock which his medical
attendants had pronounced fatal. I reached
home just in time to see him breathe his
last. Having received no special marks of
affection from him, and having only seen
him during the many exciting intervals of
my vacations, my days of mourning were
soon over. I returned to college and re
mained there till I was twenty-one, at
which time I came into possession of my
fortune to use at my own disposal.
I had no idea of following the wake of father.
I had a horror of business. I cherished a
reeollection I had for the yearning in
youthful days for an exhibition of the af
fection I had seen lavished on others of'
my own age. My memory was still alive
with the remembrance, of bow I had run
to his knee, longing to be clasped in his
arms and had my heart stung with a cold
repulse.
"Why not enjoy life while I can ?" I
said as I sat alone in my room, for when
youth has passed and manhood is on the
wane, it will be time enough to clog index
pendence with the incumbrances of life.
I lifted the bank book from the table
before me, and looking over it saw there
was no mistake, there was eighty thousand
dollars placed to my credit.
I joined a club. In closing my initia•
tion speech I tendered a champagne sup
per to my companions. They were too
polite, certainly, not to do me the honor
of accepting. At the supper I was cheered
and toasted, and was pronounced a merry
good fellow.
Assuredly I must have a fancy team and
give my friends a turn around the most
popular drives. Besides I must visit the
course and "stake on favorites," and en
gage in an occasional game of poker in the
club. If I lost I must not wince, nor be
heard to utter any regrets. All this I did
and kept it up for a year. Then my eyes
were opened, but not in the same manner
quite as the deacon's kittens—by knocking
their brains out. It happened this wise :
I met a young lady with whom I fill
deeply in love. No young lady I was sure,
as I surveyed myself in the glass on the
evening I intended to propose, could re
sist my suit. A handsome form, a repu
tation obtained through my club of being,
a great deal wealthier than I was (as if
they didn't know my fortune to a dime)
and a standing in society that any one
might envy, indeed, no sensible one would
refuse was my comment. But my vanity
received a mighty shock. I was refused,
and so decided was the refusal that I felt
there was no hope. I hastily left the
scene of my disappointment, went home,
shut myself up, walked the floor until
morning—for I was desperately in love.
and even then was at home to no one. I
remained all day, notwithstanding a trot was
to take place that afternoon, on which I
had staked a large I.mount. I cared noth
ing about the result, and entertained some
serious thoughts about making my will.—
While meditating on the subject the
thought entered my mind that possibly I
might have a rival. I felt a curiosity to
see how be looked, au'l finally concluded
not to make my will yet.
The second forenoon I sauntered forth.
I displayed a negligent aspect and haggard
countenance which contrasted sadly with
my former scrupulously neat and happy
appearance. I saw a number of my club
associates, but they seemed to avoid me,
as they would cross the street before we
met, or if on the opposite side, would be
deeply interested in viewing an object in
another direction. I returned from my
walk, and after dinner ordered my team
for a drive. The programme of the morn
ing was re-enacted.
I passed several of my acquaintances,
and instead of receiving the usual polite
bow and pleasant smile, I got a cold stare
or no notice whatever.
"Were they all witnesses of my rejec
tion ?" was the internal inquiry. I knew
of nothing else to effect so obvious a change
in their demeanor.
The mystery, however, was soon solved.
I was sitting alone at dusk in my room,
my mind in a vague, dreamy state, when
the housekeeper entered, inquiring whether
she should not light the gas. That meant
there was a ringing of the bell.
"Yes," I replied, "and if that is any
one to see me conduct him in."
r; I 3
The quietness and my solitary confine
ment was becoming unbearable to me.—
Instead of"him" conducted to my presence,
there stood before me a woman closely
veiled I was taken by surprise, my femi
nine visitor threw her veil back, and I
beheld the identical lady who had so re
cently administered such a scorching blow
to my vanity.
,Y. -
"You will excuse this intrusion, Mr.
Morton, when I tell you that nothing but
a desire for your welfare has caused me to
visit you. I have heard of your misfor
tune, and attribute a good deal of it to my
refusal of your hand. I knew that the
life you were leading would sooner or later
HUNTINGDON, PA , FRIDAY, MAY 18, 1.877.
effect your ruin, but I had no idea it would
come so soon. I have a few thousand
dollars at my disposal, and if they can be
of any service to you they are at your
command, and I will gladly advance them
to you in your present circumstances, as I
believe you will refund the money.
I was now completely amazed, and be
fore I could recover my self possession, my
visitor had departed. I started up to stop
her, but she was gone. I returned to my
seat and stared at vacancy where she had
so recently stood. Part of what she said
had recurred to my mi❑d. "Ruin—life
you are leading !" A light dawned upon
my mind. I rang the bell and called for
the morning paper, which I had not yet
glanced at. In the announcement of the
race the "favorite" had been beaten, and
my name was announced as a very heavy
loser. To me there was nothing very
startling in that. The reason I will ex
plain presently.
I commenced to look through the paper.
At last the mystery of the usage of my
friends wa.., cleared. Before me was a
paragraph :
"We learn from one who knows that
Mr. Henry Morton has sunk within a year
over one hundred thousand dollars. The
result of the race yesterday was the finish
ing stroke. His misfortunes should be a
warning to those who have cownienced
similar career."
"Whew I" said I in one prolonged
whistle. "Let me see if there is any truth
in the report."
. _
I took down the bank book and ran over
the columns. I had drawn out all but
eighteen dollars and twenty five cents. I
knew where the rumor, "we learn from
one who knows," came from. One of my
club associates was cashier of the bank.
The reason why I was not surprised at
this announcement of the race was because
I had not bet on the one that had been
beaten. After the race previous to this
one, my confres of the club, belonging
to the turf, had some how been flush with
bank notes, while my pockets were empty.
It had happened before. I began to sus
pect there was something to account for
this effect. So instead of betting on the
"favorite," I had bet on the other. My
suspicions were so well grounded that I
had staked largely and won.
"Since the play has begun let us have
it out," was my soliloquy.
The next morning I went to my lawyer
and asked him to do me a favor. I told
him that I was willing to spend a hundred
or two to find ou.t who were my friends.—
I induced him to bring a suit against me,
under two fictitious names.
There was a law in New York State
which was repealed a few years ago, that
the persons in whose favor a note was
drawn, could sue on and collect it, with
out appearing in court so long as the
signature was proved to be genuine The
same law is still in force in New Jersey.
I confessed judgment., and was sold out
by the sheriff. The night of the sale I
visited the club. When I entered a number
of persons were there who had done me
the honor to borrow a few hundred dollars
from my surplus funds. Almost imme
diately after I entered they were missing.
I was soon made to feel myself a useless
appendage, and I took my leave. When
I reached home a letter was waiting me.
I opened it. It contained a check for two
thousand dollars, bearing the brief line,
"From a friend." I presented it at the
counter of the bank on which it was drawn.
It was recognized and cashed. The most
minute inquiries could gain no clue from
whenee it came.
"Ah !" I thought what a fool I have
been. Hera for the past year I have been
wheedled and flattered by a set of human
vampires. They believe my blood is drained
and leave me alone to perish. How they
will cringe when they find I am not the
gull they took me for.
My home was not my own. I had a
mortgage of twenty thousand dollars which
I had taken some three months before to
accommodate a friend of my father He
gave me the money, and I returned the
document. I had thirty thousand dollars
of my eighty. I fore swore clubs and the
race course, procured a position in a mer
cantile house, and in six months after be
came junior partner.
I was now fully launched in the bus
iness I had detested.
Reader, six years have passed since
then. Near me sits the lady who rejected
my suit, and first informed me of my ruin,
playing with a little blue eyed boy, who
climbs up to the window, and, before I
reach the door, claps his tiny hands and
cries out, "Papa !" . _
It was she who sent the check. and, as
I reflected on the past, and think of the
present, I feel thankful for the blow she
administered to my vanity.
c*ritct
Social Tragedy in London.
In the last issue of the London Court
Circular is narrated a queer social tragedy.
Among the guests who were assembled at
a dinner-party was a lady ofexcellent form,
whose delicate plumpness was the theme of
unusual admiration. To her was presented
a small bunch of flowers by an admirer
whose duty it was to escort her to dinner.
She gracefully accepted the gift, and in a
thoughtless moment fastened it to her bos
om with a pin searching and far-reaching.
By the time she reached the dinner table
she was a mere wreck. The pin had per
forated her bosom, nit wisely, but too well,
and that bosom was merely a part of the
outer India rubber woman which concealed
the real residue from the gaze of deceived
society. Of course there was nothing left
for her but to faint, and she promptly did
so. Her friends gathered her exuberant
charms into a narrow but compact bundle,
and removed her to her carriage. And
this, we are left to infer, is the way in
which the beauty and fashion of England
is constructed.
Profanity.
We are emphatically in the age of pro
fanity, and it seems to us that we are on
the topmost current. One cannot go on
the streets anywhere without having his
ears offended with the vilest words, and
his reverence shocked by the most profane
use of sacred names. Nor does it come
from the old or middle aged alone, for it
is a fact that the younger portion of the
community are most proficient in degra
ding language." Boys have an idea that it
is smart to swear ; that it makes them
manly, but there never was a greater mis
take in the world. Men, even those who
swear themselves, are disgusted with pro
fanity in a young man, because they know
how, of all bad habits, this clings the most
closely and increases with years. It is
the most insidious of habits, growing on
one so invisibly, that almost before one is
aware he beeomes an accomplished cures
Loss of Life.
The waste of human life is everywhere.
After the waste by war, in no field of hu
man activity is it more strikingly illustra
ted than among the toilers of the sea. Ev
ery year brings its measure of disasters on
the sea, seemingly with as much regulari
ty as the seasons follow in the march of
time. During the year 1875, 1,502 Amer
ican vessels are reported to have suffered
iisaster ; adding to this number Cie 85
.;asualties to foreign vessels on our shores,
4ives a total of 1,587. Of this number,
477 vessels collided, and 209 casualties
;sere admitted to have arisen directly from
earelessness or ignorance. Three hundred
and twelve vessels, aggregating a tonnage
of 102,512 tons, and valued, with their
cargoes at upward of ten millions of dol.
lars, were wrecks involving a total loss.
The number of lives imperilled in these
disasters was 20,115, and 888 lives were
lost, besides 73 persons drowned, where no
other casualty occurred to the vessel.
One hundred and fifty vessels were re
ported to the British Board of Trade in
the years 18734 as not heard from after
sailing or being spoken at sea. All of
these are supposed to have gone down with
the 2,381 persons on board. Including
these missing vessels there were reported
to the same authority in the same year 6,-
CB4 vessels as having suffered wreck, conj.
n or other casualty, resulting in the
t tal loss of 1,411 vessels and 6,817 lives.
During the ten years ended June 30, 1874,
fiere were 22,098 wrecks, collisions and
other casualties of vessels reported as hay
ig occurred on or near the coast of the
British Isles alone. Over twenty five per
of this number were total wrecks, in
v)lving a loss of over 8,200 lives and tho
vtlne of about $90,000.000 in property.
1\ ith such a startling array of facts, it is
no wonder that the appeal of Samuel Plitn
sod has been heard around the world.—
Surgeon
Evils of Gossip.
I have known a country society which
wi_bere:i away to nothing under the dry
rot of gossip only. Friendships, once as
firm as granite, dissolved to a jelly, and
then ran away to water, only because of
this ; love, that promised a future as en
during as heaven, and as stable as truth.
evaporated into a morning mist that turn
ed to a day's long tears, only became of
this ; a father and son were set foot to foot
with the fiery breath of an anger that
would never cool again between them; and
a husband and his young wife, each strain
ing at the heated lash which in the begin
ning had been the golden bondage of a God
blessed love, sat mournfully by the side of
the grave where all their love and all their
joy lay buried, and all because of this.
I have seen faith transformed to mean
doubt, joy give place of grim despair, and
charity take on itself the features of black
malevolence, all because of the spell words
of scandal and the magic mutterings of
gossp. Great crimes work great wrongs,
and the deeper tragedies of human life
sprie- from the larger passions; but wo
ful and most mournful are the uncatalogued
tragedies that issue from gossip and de
traction ; most mournful the shipwrecks
often made of noble natures and lovely
lives by the bitter winds and dead salt wat
ers of slander. So easy to say, yet so hard
to disprove—throwing on the innocent all
the burden and the strain of demonstrating
their innocence, and punishing them as
guilty if unable to pluck out the stings
they never see, and to silence words they
never hear—gossip and slander are the
deadliest and cruelest weapons man has ev
er forged for his brother's heart.— All the
Year Round.
The Lord's Prayer.
Did you ever think, short though it may
be, how much there is in it ? Oh, it is
beautiful ! And like a diamond in the crown
of a queen, it unites a thousand gems in
one.
It teaches all of us, every one of us—to
look on God as our parent—" Our
It teaches us to raise our thoughts and
our desires above the earth—" Who art in
lleaven."
It tells us that we must reverence our
heavenly Father.— '•Hallowed be thy
name."
It breathes the saint's reward—" Thy
Kingdom come."
And a submissive and obedient spirit—
" Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heav
en."
And a dependent, trusting spirit--Give
us this day our daily bread."
And a Ibrgiving spirit--Forgive us our
trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass
against us."
And a cautious spirit—" Lead us not
into temptation, but &liver us from evil."
And last of all an adoring spirit—" For,
tit* is the kingdom, and the power and
the glory for ever.—Amen."
Rich Without Money.
Many a man is rich without money.
Thousands of men with nothing in their
pockets, and thousands without even a
pocket are rich. A man with a good con
stitution, a good stomach, a good heart,
and good limbs, and a pretty good head
piece is rich.. Good bones are better than
gold ; tough muscles than silver ; and
nerves that flash fire and carry energy to
every function are better than lands. It
is better than a landed estate to have the
right kind of a father and mother. Good
breeds and bad breeds exist among men
as really as among herds and horses. Ed
ucation may do much to check evil tend
encies or to develop good ones ; but it is a
great thing to inherit the right proportion
of faculties to start with. The man is
rich who has a good disposition—who is
naturally kind, patient, cheerful, hopeful,
and who has a flavor of wit and fun in his
composition.
Poor Girls.
Poorest girls in the world are those who
have never been taught to work. There
are thousands of them. Rich parents have
petted them; they have been taught to
despise labor, and depend on others for a
living, and aro perfectly helpless. If
misfortune comes upon their friends, as it
often does, their case is hopeless The most
forlorn and miserable women on the face
of the earth belong to this class. It be
longs to parents to protect their daughters
from this deplorable condition. They do
them great wrong if they neglect it. Every
daughter should be taught to earn her own
living. The rich as well as the poor re
quire this training. The wheel of fortune
rolls swiftly around—the rich are very
likely to become poor and the poor rich.
Well to do parents must educate their
daughters to work ; no reform is more
imperative than this.
Red Wine ,
A TRUE STORY WELL Told)
It was growing dark in the city streets ;
men and women hurried along, as it' eager
to reach comfortable homes ; the horses
seemed to pull heavy wagons with more
willingness than usual, as if they knew
that the day's work was over, and enjoyed
the prospect of rest. The lamp lighters
were going their rounds, and trying to
make up for the lost daylight. Little chil
dren were safe and warm at home.
All but one, perhaps. A title boy stood
on the deserted sidewalk, close to a great
window of plate glass, through which he
gazed with a wrapt face. The picture which
he looked at was a painted ceiling over
head, and a chandelier which seemed to
make real sunshine. The walls were cov
ered with fine paintings. A marble table
heaped with delicious food, stood near the
centre of the room. The bright light struck
through the great decanter, and made a big
crimson stain on the white hand of a gen
tleman who sat at the table reading a news
paper. A large diamond ring on one fing
er seemed to wink and blink at the little
boy outside. "I wish he would 1.,1: up,"
the child was thinking.
But though he waited and watched. the
man did riot move fbr a long time Then
he flung the paper down, and reached out
the hand with the diamond for a wine
glass, which lie filled, and crank. nev.r
once looking toward the
"I'lease, sir."
That was all the boy said Ile had step
ped from the street into' the wide hall ;
then, without,stopping to knock. he had
opened the door which led into the gen
tleman's room. On the thre-hhold of the
saloon he stopped, frightened at whir he
had thine
"What is it, my small man
Mr. .krthar Leonard 111 , 1 :t p;ea,tit
smile which came easily to i:. 4 .
face; but the child =llrauk liaek.aithoagli
he lo:Acil into the big Lro , vit eyes :is it . he
saw somethihg there he hail bei.ta i ikinz
for a great nt.de.
"You earn , to h-g I sappis
gentleman's hinil went reailtly into iii. 4
pocket
"Oh, no sir, I never thouJit .1 that.
wanted—l mean—please sir,' will go now. —
He moved back awkwardly, but
Leonard stopped him with a gesture.
child's face iaterested him. ills manner,
too, at first so eager, now so embarras::ed.
had aroused his curiosity.
"You are cold." he said. noticing that the
child shivered and that his garments wrce
thin and poor.
lie rose, took the boy by hand and
led him to the grate tire which was dane
ing on the hearth—a big. jolly fire which
seemed trying to light up the room and
make the chandelier notice how big and
bright it was.
Mr. Leonard did not seem to think it
queer for a poor little boy with patched
clothes to sit in one of the crimson satin
arm chairs big enough for a throne. Ile
drew up one for himself oprosite.
"Are you hungry ?" he asked. will
give you something to eat, and a liitle wine
will warm you up."
"Oh, no sir," and the child shrank fur
ther back into the big chair.
"You will tell me your name at least ?"
"Yes sir. My name is Eddie Boynton,
and I am ten years old."
Mr. Leonard was smiling now. as he
saw the boy's courage coming back.
"You will not be angry with me. sir ?"
"Angry ! wby in the world should I be
angry with you ?"
. .
- -
"1 d i dn 't know but you might. sir, if I
said what I wanted to."
"Never fear, Eddie; I am anxious to
know what you have to tell me."
The little boy stretched his little thin
bands, red with the cold, out toward the
glowing fire, and said :
"I work in the dye-house now, and I
get a good deal of money, a dollar a week."
Mr. Leonard could hardly help laugh
iog. The wine he had offered the child
cost more than that
come past this big window cv,ry
night on my way borne. I shan't come
again, though, because we're going to move
away. I like to look in here. because it is
so warm and pleasant. and because you are
sitting here and have eyes just like my
father's."
"What a strange child !" Mr. Leonard
was thinking.
"Ile was so handsome and tall," w nt
on the little fell6w, looking back into the
firelight. "Ile wore nice clothe.. too. like
yours; and we lived in a gr.:at. big hon-e.
most as big as this. I used ta sit n-!it, to
him at the table and he gave me thir ,
drink," pointing to the wine glass. "3l . i
er would cry sAnetimes ; but he would ;;;__.,
her, and tell her that good wins w, u
ma ke me Aping and handsome. One
he went away br i long time. and moth. r
cried all the while he was gone. When h.•
came back he struck her,
down on the floor. I screamed. b-eaus i
thought he was dead. The black man.
who drove the hoises, cause up stairs an
helped mother to get him to bed zilie said
he was sick. Ile used to scream and tight
if any one went near him. It was the re 1
wine that made him so, in .ther sail. An•i
then one night he died, an 1 there wa+
great funeral. Alter that mother packed
up our clothes, and went to live where she
could earn some money. IVe've only got
two little rooms now. Mother sew+ on a
machine. Sometimes she cries all night. I
guess."
Ile bad been talking very fast. but stop
ped suddenly.
Mr. Leonard moved uneasily.
"This is what you wanted t o t e ll me'"
"Yee, sir. Every time I come by the
window and see you sitting here, you make
me think of my father, and I wondered if
you had auy little boy at home, and how
he and his mother would feel ifyou should
die because of the red wine;" and then the
tears came, and Eddie Boynton slid down
from the big chair and stood beside Mr.
Leonard, who had turned his face away.
Eddie wondered if the gentleman was cry
ing, too. He could not see the big brown
eyes, for his head was dropping upon his
breast.
"I'm going home, now, sir. Mother
will have my supper all ready and be
frightened iff don't come," and before Mr.
Leonard roused from his painful reverie.
the child had slipped from the warm
cheery room, and was running down the
dark street, home to his waiting mother.
In all the years to come, Arthur Leon
ard and Eddie Boynton, man and boy, may
never meet again. The room in the luxu
rious club house is deserted; the fire is out,
the room is dark, the heavy curtain drawn
at the big window ; but in a beautiful
home the brown eyes look lovingly at a
sweet woman. and to a rosy boy who hangs
about his neck the father whispers : "God
bless you, my child, and keep us from the
destruction of the red wine."
Fast Young Men .
BY REV litlD BILLL.
We often hear the phrase, •'s shoo life
and a merry one." it !Mods pretty.
There's dash in it. and hinte of thrill and
excessive enjoyment, but it's a very ripen
.ice one. Ido not now 0111111 merely in
pecuniary point of vi e w, a kbepe og fi wiles
yon cline to count the emit, it in so in this
way too.
It costs more, by ail odds. to xn to per
dition.-second claw," than the other way.
-first class," and have all the luxuries
thrown in A neap will spend in a might's
dissipation more than would be neeeniary
to ineure him a year's religious privilrgts
in the averatre fine, ennfortable church in
our large city.
INt;in ; to all this, it i 4 expen
sive, in bodily vigor wasted, brain-forte
blunted and dissipated. amenbood discount
ed at a tremendous interest, the heart
made +iek, sail and degraded, the life curs
ed, and the future blighted. The man of
the ••merry lite - don't !is-_ out half his
day=. Ile don't hare the best kind of
mirth even during the halftime allowance
he i+ put on. Take out the time sprat in
sleep. iii 2ching awakeninp after a caromed,
in regret+. remorse and self accretions
and how nineh of life left to be merry.
and what kind of mirth its it' Mirth with
11,-9 in it. mirth wi:h an undertone of
apprehen-iion in it, mirth soon withered,
mirth ea,ting I.vng shadow 9 beftwe and be.
hind it. II•Pw eee-iiinzly merry it wow,
is-. It i 4 firee of two, 'vetoing like •
eotu.,ly. ending with a tragedy.
Often ditrin:, my midnight rinit. to the
of New York I had .een a pun.:
ma!t we , ,) attr.tett. , l my att..ntioe. FIN
-ne who hid drityr
,it '. ' w3y+ vac- the refine.' relies -.1 ,
hitter fallen men and w.no.n.
II L 1 t11:1 t 1 ,•h ,r4ct• r li i e •44.. t cl.sy
i 4 the patter
it :;.nti. nn I r , s•i•• habit hirien4
it. ;till u il.:t el ~.ittart,r be once qui.
it rAaiti.4 Ailape; in it 4 er3le rvirt4 will .1)..w
t or the This
!•eni urr , .ne:nt. I
:taw it. th x.-h3r.r-vi 3
Ohe iii l :l4i, when i•-•.l'.iilZ 4 tni.i,n in ..f2.•
of . the 1..w..r the city. I qnw th , e
:14ireri on P/Ple whigity barrels
ni:e I 4
ieli:otlier I should arnwie hint,
take biro with me if he w.wi.l r ,.
and rare f.r him awl try to 4are hie. awl
thinkin4 hi-or it crag best to ipprwrit
in came the proprieuir of the place
t h._
Of tut st npto I has.•s m.-t. this Ina W
the greatest brut. —tw Wa4 brutal in look..
he was cruel in action—he hvl a brute's
coke and paw.
.liter zrcri4 behind tlio bar and tailing
a drink ais own vile liquor. he wiped
his lips on his coat sleeve, and turning
around. saw the young man asleep.
With a terrible enpresnion of brutality
upon his face and the most horrid mune
upon his lips. he half staggered, hall rain
over to where he lay. and raking bias by
the coat, he roughly dragged him to kir.
feet and actually kicked him out :at° din
street.
What eared he' He bad cot his asospay,
and he eared no more for the ruined, be
sotted man. than a child for the ensue
peel after the orange was game. Oil, bets
this made my finger ends chile' I imanaed
to yell nut savazely : "Wreteb Rime!
Take that, and that, and that soil he
was whipped and pounded Mtn submission.
It would have been the wane of Erse, Di
me, but it would have bees impolitic. 31Iy
influence would have bee. ruined.
In about two minutes I followed, be
ping to find the poor fellow, and take care
of Ain but he was zone I did sot fed
him.
IKof to na y row at 3 1 a . Weak
to he4l. but not to sleep. I was too umpori
roused for that. _SA o'elort its the
mornintz. the police seat for me to came to
the station house and see a inaa they hod
taken in some time daring the sight, I
went and looked upon the blaselbal sows
of this mart lie 11112$ quiet eunagh are,
and was not refused shelter. a wl he me s a
little whether it was the icy inseams or
the stone door of the stains lemage. lit
felt not and reared not—be was dead : I
learned his history. which Irwin wallaptawee,
as t~.i lows : Ile w 34 a plow , : salt. well
reared. of a good family in one of MIT
country towns lie rime to the eity with
a t'ew thousand dollars in tin pocket. to 409
lit:e Ile sew lire. in as down"
wird. an , l hr , nzht np in tills site den.
fro:,. when,:• he wvt kicked to fe•et•
I rhlii
It w:ts -!.
It ii.c , r ;
1•, fruit not 1 :witty •+e)+
-•f • • hit i 4 •ht lo.arT.-41
0.4 4, 04.1 0
1 .; pv a vin mil, thit
• ..• n.irth 4h-n-t 'pro
(•
r . 1..
1 '1
Timm Alone.
!r i 4 th. Tune( , -rs. I
it is boy -I.
vr.,11.1 :,-;
" - il , 41 :.: ' :II
t
3 'X ' ' ,l . e 4 feens. arp•l yea
r-tlie •.I arpineil inpl Apripp-41
It- the pun wirll 3 11111. inpl r.l on . '
011k.r him inorips.i. 1" ill may !SWAG
.•a$ r. a • .'t. humble • 1 I
never do it. - the people whr. think bit
of themselves are apt to be best W.,men
pretty in believine they are 11. , and
line pinkies often rrnp out after nee ht.
been told one has them. It owly
3 momentary spite to fore, your owa sofa
vorable opinion ..f him deep into another'.
mind. It nev..r, never. never did any
go o d. .ih :if this world. fall of u g ly
!people. and awkward people. of silly pee
ple and vain people, knew its owe defi
ciencies. what a sitting in sackcloth and
ashes we should have : The greatest of all
things that a trian eta parties is a mitiefae
tory identity. If that which be eallst
pleases him, it is well with him other
wise, he is utterly wretched. Let year
fellow beings alone ; bold the tretbrel mir
rors before their eyes. unless with a pure
intention to uproot Ain. So may a mirror
without a flaw never be prepared tor yes.
In those things which we cameos help,
may we ever be build to our owe short
comings. We are neither ugly, ewe awk
ward, nor uninteresting to ourselves, if we
do not know it. A fool may bare the
wisdom of Solomon in his own emaceit.
Let him be, and the path to the grate
will be easier for him to tread—you will
be no worse, he much better. Leave
every man as much self esteem as his few
science will allow him to cherish. It may
be pleasure to enlighten people into their
faults of mind and person, but it in testate
ly not a duty.
Joan BILLINOS rays: -Whoa a pow
man ain't good for aaytbint eim, I like law
see him carry a gold beaded aim If la
can't buy a cane, let him part big bait is
the middle !"
.h•srt IF
I The Physkposs of our Presidenes.
soli, 1111111 0/
itasswratry es runic
Tllll WENT.
Ivan th• C:syswasti Timis;
:4pitabiesi 4 Hors sod dee ioesuportgais
it ..y be void suits lbw allueinoo mit to
tbe reemortably ressuel syystme.
bit
of tato Armee sroixoetie e brief wine of
prodoeemee. Irmitieepiete otend aes
feet bid. and oint medeird fleeted by
tbei bend of .o ettisc Nis eistudeefkii
dignity goo s deeds enousterpore se No
enble .-bernetter I..be Vii.. *am 4
slid bnild. bet woe 4elleimet teeteew
He was lathing is rep!, 4 dee ;weer
limbo, sod yet opts the Mamie 11111. 4 eery
ispetteetee appearing., one
pierfei?‘ -neer** w4l, .A4aftwa. brs thineelb
tail 110 Wtobiegtete. did see prooto
dignity H. sit 4 a lama humid. wide Ivor
that ...re antierabio >t Worth, awl Wait
ineaseel is r.. 1 hr.or-hr.. their pr.r.vtosaa
wise th. WM, sie4.ily feepleyed. le lase
goers h. wv. to emir! some Ulmer
been ahr-vi heti s h.. rair -.I OW.
111-adie•tt stems *we fret ewe
h .41.10.-1 Ind 19 , 44 aliaters. tagaalaw
ar t b Is min newt dee..
ettunrest..l h. I+ftrnitiviira•-- c • -h
-ord.-town Pt. Ihe
4itriar rho telr anti tir.et Retreete methe
bits printentnt+ly awl tar. ao anis sar
ri,eintr, •hr itlbe
ttito.f.
w • h•-• •(' -
Ow • Rer... , 2t ' .124 ire
6--,m• • • • z-264 wry.
.1 *or ,f•-• 10.,,
.3..;% :-
tt..ne.l 11111.01.
ti4pro. 111.. 11..?
nit, nevi? •
11.-e-10/3"! b rm rim r,
p -.um? 04,0
3'l n *0,3 rs
N t • en nee Inas re •irr
ar. r-artivo r we. '4,- II • '4l`► t. hies
ilkwittliit D. prorai
me hi,. vowilt.-7 Ti.!mr
e:t.sr - 4/-t-r 4 ; .;•tot.% r
ei.r:vompo -asso4 7 , settio
loot iise mevis .wor • t t- • i'-esobsepro -boo
.t... 1 !. is. 41• .• p ..1 tie
pr-4 w-v •ho irst f
(est Pre.e.i. ast. :Sit •Ts. I,* of
eiewrorwee Treit•nn mom
feral. 1 wit wir4 !•• osnot.fr, impts.d
pAitte owleelf. re iwwle ,rn !le frowns".
-*brie how prrels,.--siw 14asse war peva
6iar4 a moo qf 'h. ss.o4, so 4 loot spot
ossoy r.-.r' iw itornposo evriory 4 tibs
!views* moire. Jerboa.* ono wow Soo
frms the phobia* sort! kit
Hs sras the Ira 4. , er Prosaism, ads bad
a thief talo, Novas 'sorb soloosi bp doe
=cry 4 Elladnwy. - Van
woe 4 arrirrams froradlak. nrniedirra
Ike fess as. with bolsi allasidna arandre
al by the slimy • swarm is bud
stamhad 6rtr, and buss ci so bra "pima
tins to Iris Inabr. Re bad tits ammallllll. 4
wart ;ifs. Irssrias Tama so Itsallassadav se
St. Jaws and on se arraland saw poem
$ strikirsi amaarass with Ise r.oalb brew
demassar 4 imbue.
rtyvvrAsout
Har.ieee one 011ie. 44.fiellesesed.
imed of ewer bee appearesee. and daring
hie lineth 4 ser-se. we :e si seePpeese
worthy 4 hie pule.* Trier air 4
esedisin as 4 bid do eery mow
eery 4 tie Tieginies swery. lie soil
hairy Mlle floe Whim had st ems heeme he
hie p• pew saw Aria ow& so mow
slag ignominies Is ail wile beheld it Do
sever woe is Ibis fig bog ease. tfba
the time obis he mem ee wed air ebb
Mies g;eribeer. Nib OOP fella 111111111. 4
lestipstliaas sprarsesr, owls sere
ftrastiroser.. tie 40.4 Ames fr awe
three. mei wee the umemese verses 4
mealieerl thee be 4 thew fee goo 10110
Peeeideeelei &sir. rapier ow s mile
balk see. live feet greys mama bulb, soh
ember .lugs' in asemser.. pee id
gimme sippireme-e ram.," •••• s km,
ow weir preperteme.-1 man wit. •
dresierei ad motAltivnt
Vas& nem or Imity porposiardl
bed tombs awl isembio. Am. sa•
derp enswareseer Pis Ma Rix - me maw
at. best Isobler, ire Al tap PMllialladli
shirr iiiere tbe , 4true
._ lea is mispewr wool ilbeselio s psi
via* bpint , sto. , qt l lindlop,„
h a d bat 'rirtrt.• •fizlrty. rte. dim sew
, f 4'
•- , garlar .I*.r).-•Pr !!- Nowt
reap" I. poshbe if:. dryikod
I p,ab,se f-sw-Ca., ter T. " but
M- it.-.•••-r Sat ^,•• VS" e a l 1111111140
h • bp sit wid e efts
he , • - leirz
.1r Irv-tr." 'Tr 00111111.1'
ars" , •. 6..12, 1 46 ." C 133.10,er., •to w Anie
f imrsro;t•T i ;P.-,
.4 , •ar me is.- kp-r7t-fei.-
1.•••0.- ••:. . 41 Irv. Inn avid
if 'tiro thst to ;trawl -4 • "of. OPPO 4
z-itrtenrits... 114 • , host. • Ohs
sbfe••• At a! the V7-voivar.. es, ',wow ,4
PIZ 11. • 4.1.0,••••ri1e
..- fs • wit . I'7 e l.• 4 flirt I ge t purr
-133,7. Lint-the ...01.44.4 imam., no
hr. --rr - FAS-# boa kis
was fr.". 'r ?h. rip-melt OM* taurimil
the H •1+ , 4814., armor is
pintr--4 til•• 4,411...4.4104111 4 Npur dew.
vitt , ,n
Ls vents • 411 T rr
tvfy -I.hikalie was .4 Tow iossisePs
sow of -,porsosido. dPirirsto.ll big, in
post 4 r-.lls , sonot. 14 low s
ass ossolins Ilkos fool two is. *Wei •
saang.mase. orailogi proyeirsakoisiffig
eikasaary Flo bed eft ide•14.03,
chimer of airs iv 4 disrairwr. sod is bet
the Presiessey which Lomas hid as mi.
mostly suited. woe may ergradmill. ae
elevation so path se Asa war foe ettimir
Moho ef know elle% eressesseily Mbar
bisory qrsist. the finest. 4 Limit. a
smseh hie sawbones. hems so bola at •
meanie "Reek Re bus Wee so ertirray
seen bthe peblie shot hasher sulbrommt
anamemeart This seirios kiwi se
ems t. Hers, whom pestissi
soar is meet towtomodleg ohm dmr B 7;
of bit preeminero romp liarlisithm—
Mr. U ere bore birds* the aides
traties inieseise. sod owns se his
me to swore the ermidiasty ar4 row
ef that giv. taw. Messes. it it to
be remembered, wee the lets Prsoldmor sr
le is day Ass visited rase. Rittis dromo
amg this the Hasher Beare sesid An&
set y eappiy sorb a whir meemme UP lir
*dice, Ts will be sosies4 trot Mr. lispr
it jolt filar rare remerr them Wawa sr
at the time the lessor Irmo sobered Psi
drat sod two yews yearicre elm Wall
ingtno at the Imo time.
"Swit.... •4 r it it mist
saber am be, meg sealer 1411 lir - 1
dem Cart ; I OW is op' 'lrby ego
s sseese's seat is s cm's ss►
SO. 20.
PTV, AP-
~•
Fi\grit *A.
Irt. * VAS*
...II -.►-
14,464,