stijc American Volunteer.
pUBDIfIHED EVERY THURSDAY MOIININU
BY
BRATTON Ac. ICEKT'fICDY,
OFFICE-SOUTH MARKET SUCABE.
T»MB;—Two Dollars per year if paid strictly
inadvance; Two Dollnrsand Fifty Coma If paid
trßhln three months; after which Three Dollars
SfUlbo charged. These terms will bo rigidly ud-
to In every Instance. No subscription dis
continued until all arrearages are paid, unless at
the option of the Editor.
Cams.
C. P. lIUMUICII. I ,W.M, B, PARKER
•pi'TJMBICH & PARKER, .
A TTORNEYS A T LA If'.
Office on Main Street. In Marlon Hall, Car
lisle, Fa.
Dec. 21, IMS—ly ,
TOHN COBNIIAH,
AT X.A IK
Office In bonding ottoched to FranlUln House
opposite tho Court House, Carlisle, I ft
-1 Juno 4,18U3. —ly '
C‘ HAS. E. MAGLAUGHLIN, Attor
net AT Law. Ofllco In Building formerly
occupied by Volunteer, a few doors South of wet
eel’s Hotel.
Dec. 1,1805. _____
T? E. BELTZHOOVBR, Attorney
h jucd COUNSELOK at Law, Carlisle, Pennn.
Oulco on South Hanover street, opposite Bontz a
Store. By special arrangement with tho Patent
Ofllco, attends to securing Patent Rights.
Hoc. 1,1885.
p HERMAN GOETZ,
TTOBNJS-Y A 2 LAJV,
NEWVILLE, PJSNN’A.
Patents, Pensions and other claims attended to.
: May IMS.
JOHN R. MILI.EB, Attorney at
Law. OUlce In Wetzel’s Building, opposite
mo Court House, Carlisle, Pa.
Kov. 14, ISO 7.
Me. HERMAN, Attorney at Law.
, Omco In Rhoem’a Hull Building, in the
rear of the Court House, next door to the “Her
ald” Ollice, Carlisle, Penna.
Dec. 1, 1805.
• TXT KENNEDY, Attorney at Law
VV • Carlisle, Penna. Odlco same ns that of
the ‘'American Volunteer," South side of the Pub
lic Square.
Dec. I. ISOO
UNITED STATES CLAIM
AND
REAL ES TA TE A G EJV CY!
\VM. B. lUJTLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
Ofneo In 2d Story of InholFs Building, No. :j South
Hanover Street, Carlisle, Cumberland county,
Penna.
pensions, Bounties, Back Pay, io„ promptly
collected. . .
Applications by mull, will receive Immediate
attention.
Particular attention given to the selling or rent
ing of Ileal Estate, In town or country. In all let
ters of Inquiry, please enclose postage stamp.
July 11, 1807—tf
DU. GEORGE S. SJEARIGHT, Den
tist. Prom the Paltimure Collvne of Dcnta
.surj/erv. OUlce at the residence of his motlior
Louther Street, three doors below Bedford
Carlisle, Penna.
Dec. 1,1805.
'jttjats ana (ttaps
AItEIVAL
OF ALL, Tilk
New winter styles
HATS AND CAPS.
Thfe subscriber baa Just opened at No, Va North
Hanover Hired, u few doors North of tho Carlisle
Deposit Bank, one of tho largest and best Slocks
of HATS and DABS over oll'crcd in Carlisle.
BJlk Huts, Casslmcreof all styles and qualities,
StUT Brims, dlllorent colors, and ovcry descrip-
Hon of Soft Hats now made. %
Tim Duhkard and Old Fashioned Brush, con
stantly on jmud and made to order, all warrant
ed to give satisfaction.
A full assortment of
MEN’S,
BOV’S, AND
CHILDREN'S,
If ATS.
I have also added to my Slock, notions of diner
ent kinds, consisting or
LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN’S STOCKINGS.
Neek THes, Suspenders,
Collars, Glows,
pencils. Thread,
Saving Silk, linbrellas, dr.
PRIME BEGARB AND TOBACCO
ALWAYS ON HAND.
Olvo mo o. call, and examine my stock ns I fool
conlldent of pleasing all, besides saving you mo
ney
JOHN A. KELLER. Ai/rnt.
No. lo North Hanover Street.
DCc. 6, 1805 —ly
TTA T S AND 'CAPS
■*"' i-iats, Cur B - and a great deal more,
Kept for sale at Boas’ Store,
Wool and Fur, both coarse and fine,
Silk and Brush haU lu his Hue.
Bearer, Nutra. largo and small,
Hats to fit and suit you all,
Only call and lot him try,
Though you should uotwlsh to buy
Gladly ho will show you round,
Through his hats HU out la found.
To suit your taste, and filyou well,
Then kindly all your neighbors tell
Wlmt hats you saw atßoas’ store,
Ho keeps at corner number four,
lu North Hanover stieot Carlisle,
Whore you cau find him all the while,
Ready toscll togreathud small,
Doctors, Lawyers, Preachers, all
Students, Merchants, Farmers too,
And please, kind friends, likewise to you.
jlo keens constantly on hand a large assort
ment ol Huts, latest styles of Silks, sou and stllr
bvliu. A large assortment of ladles and gents,
Trunks, Valises, travelling Bags, Leather batch
ols, and a fine lot ol ladles collars and Baskets.
Also gents Furnishing Goods*, such as Collars,
Anjjxtenslvoand carefully selected assortment
of ladles Furs, also ladies Fur Hoods and 1-ui
Trimmings, and u regular lino of gents, lur cups,
Mulliere and Gloves. , , . .
Also, Umbrellas, canes and a vurietj of No-
for past favors, he sollcltlsacoutlnu
unco of the. same trom his numerous patrons mui
kindly Invites the public In general to vavor min
with a call before purchasing, lading confident
of his ability to suit all,both m quality and price.
Don't forget the place, No. i, North Hanover
street, opposite the Carlisle Deposit Bunk.
The highest cash prices paid lor shipping Purs,
such as Muskrat, Mink, Fox. Raccoon and all
other lur skins. BOAb.
Oct. 8, I&Us—Om
JJATS AND CAPS 1
DO YOU WANT A NICE HAT OR CAP ?
If so. Don’t Fail to Call on
J. G.CALLIO,
A’O. 29, WESI MAjy STREET,
Where can he seen the finest assortment of
HATS AND CAPS
ever brought to Carlisle. He takes great pleas
ure in Inviting his old friends and customers,
and all new ones, lb his splendid stock Just re
ceived from Now York and Philadelphia, con
sisting lu part of fine
SILK AND CASSIMERE HATS,
besides an endless variety of Hats and Caps of
the latest style, all ol which ho will sell at the
lowest Cash Prices. Also, Uls own manufacture
of Hals always on hand, and.
HATS MANUFACTURED TO ORDER.
He haa the best arrangement for coloring Hals
Mid all kinds of Woolen Goods, Overcoats, tfo., at
the shortest notice (as ho colors every week) and
on the most reasonable tc ms. Also, a Hue lot ol
choice brands of
TOBACCO AND CIGARS
always on hand. He desires to call thenttentlon
of persons who have
COUNTRY FURS
to sell, as he pays tho highest cosh prices for the
same. . . ~
Give him a call, at tho above number, his old
stand, os he feels confident of giving entire satis
faction.
Deo. 20.15G3
JpOR WARDING AND
COMMISSION HOUSE.
FTour & Feed, Coat, Flatter & Salt,
J. BEETEM & BROTHERS having purchased 01
Snyder & Newcomer their extensive Warehouse,
(Henderson’s old stand,) head of High street, beg
leave to Inform the public that will continue the
Forwarding and Commission business on n more
extensive scale than heretofore.
The highest market price will bo paid for Flour
Grain and produce of all kinds.
Flour and Feed, Fluster, salt and Hay, kept
constantly on hand and for sale.
Cool of all kinds, embracing
LYKENS VALLEY.
LOCUST MOUNTA N.
LAWBERRY, &c„ Ac
Llrneburnora’ and Blacksmiths’ Coal, constant
ly for sale. Kept under cover, and delivered dry
to any part of the town. Also, all kinds of Liuu*
her constantly on hand.
J. DEETEWC & BROS.
Deo. 1, 1863.
'I l \A Si j
BY. BRATTON &. KENNEDY,
fßiscellattcons
1 A A A MONTH can bo made by male
J. \J\J and female Agents. Wo have nothing for
ciirioslty-spckoiH, but reliable, steady, prolltablo.
employment, for those who mean business/ Ad
dress, with 3 cl. stamp. C. L. Van Allen A Co., 18
New street. New York.
Dec. 17, JB(W—U
QOMETHING NEW AND USEFUL.
O—A now Ki r a In Music. POPULAR MUSIC
AT POPULAR PRICES. "Hitchcock’s Half-
Dlmo Series of Music for the Million.” No. I now
readv. Music and words of the t’omln Song.—
"CAPTAIN.I INKS OF THE HO USE MARINES.”
Others to follow rapidly. I’rieos cents each.—
Your Newsdealer lias it or will get U for you.—
Mailed on receipt ol price. Address BENJ. W.
HITCHCOCK, Publisher, S 3 Spring street, New
York.
Dee. 17. lfs«9 —lt
TO THE WORKING’ CLAKS.—I am
now prepaid! to fiuutsh constant employ
ment to all classes at their homes, for llielr spare
moments. Business new, light and piolltahle.—.
Flty cents to 85 is easily earned, and the hoys
ami girls earn nearly as nuieh as men. Great In
ducements are ottered. All who see tills notice
please send mo their address ami lest the bus
iness for themselves. If not well satisfied, I will
send SI for the trouble of writing me. 'Full par
ticulars sent ftec, Sample Kent hy mall lor ten
cents. ‘
Address,
Dec. 17, 18GS—It
AGENTS WANTED. —To sell a new
Book perlftlolngto Agriculture ami the Me
chanic. Arts. Edited by Giro. E. Waidnci, Esq,,
tho distinguished Author and Agricultural Engi
neer of tho New York Central Park, Nothing
like It ever published ; 200 Engravings. Hells at
sight to Farmers Mechanics and WorUingidew
of*il classes. Active men and women are coin
ing money. Send for circulars. E. B. TREAT A
CO., Publishers, (til Bioadway, N. V.
Dec. 17,1 H(W —f t
JVyfONEV EASILY MADE, with our
Complete Stencil and Key Cheek OultiL.,—
Small capital required. Circulars tree. STAF
FORD Manufacturing Co., GO Fulton St., N. Y.
Dec. 17, JMfcS—ft
Given giuu.i lu mo, tucatuu Agent*, male of
feimuo. in a now, light and honorable business,
paying thirty dollars per day sure. No gift on
surprise, no humbug. Address R. Monroe Keu
notly <Si Co.. Pittsburg, Fa.
Dec. 1". ISOS—It
\Dr. JHO. V.
JMCCO ANTpOTE.
UESIUTE ALT. DKamji'fon TOBACCO. *
entirtlu vegetable aid hamlet ». and enWcAei
So blood, mvlßora(cV bo sysicrartwsseMes great nourish
lair and etreneibcningWwor. i/ao excellent tonic and ap
p«l«r, enables tbo Bionhch/w digest tbo htanleit food,
nukes sleep refreshing,JiW. establishes robust health.
Smoker* and cAfiran /air cured. Price Fifty
cents per box, post froe; An Intmailnp treatise on the In
jarioaseUocts ot tpCacco, with llsißowjestimonlwis,icttr
cocos, etc.. fi*nvfitr.g. Amenta wanteoJSAddress
Jl7 Da. T. li.-ASBorr, N. J.
FOnSALE BY ALL DRUGGIST. '
of hnmbag
[Trademark x Copyr/yAtetL]
Jaw. 21, JSfiy— it
TO
ff‘l AAA PER YEAR guaranteed, and
t]) I UU V steady employment. Wo want a re
liable agent in every county to soil our Potent
White Wire Cteihrs J.iut'.t. (eve,i lasting.) Address
White Winn Co., 75 William St., H. or 10
Dearborn St. Chicago, Ills.
Dec. 17. ISOO —It
/CARPETS—DON’T PAY THE HIGH
I j PIUCRS! ThO Kno Enplaml Cnrpct fb.. of
Boston. Mass., established nearly a quarter of a
century ago. in their present location, In Halls
over 71, 7.'1, 70, 77, 70. 81. 85 and 87 Hanover St.,
have probably furnished more houses with Car*
pets than anv other hou,so in the country. In
order to afford those at a' distance the advanta
ges of their low prices, propose to send, on the
receipt of the price, 20 yards or upwards of their
beautiful Cottage Carpeting, at 50 cents per yard,
with samples of ton bo-t«. varying in price from
25 cents to SO per yard, suitable for furnishing
every.part of any house.
Dec. 17, ISGS—It
f^elkal.
THE COUNTRY LIFE.
Not what wc would, but what we must,
Makes up tho sum of living;
Heaven Is both moro audless limn just
In taking and In giving.
Swords cleave tohands that sought the plow
And laurels miss the soldier’s brow.
Me, whom tho city holds, whose feet
Have worn Its stony highways,
Familiar with Its loneliest street—
Its ways were never mj/ ways.
My cradle was beside (ho sea,
And there I hope my grave will be.
Old homestead!—ln that old, gary town,
Thy vane Is seaward blowing;
Thy slip of garden stretches down
To where tho tide Is Hawing;
Colow they Ho, their sails nil juried,
The silica that go about tho world.
Dearer that little country house,
Inland, with pines beside it;
Some poach trees, with unfruitful boughs,
A well, with weeds to hide It;
No flowers, or only such ns rise
Holf-sown—poor things—which all despise
Dear country homo! can I forget
The least of thy sweet trlllcs?
Tho window vines that clamber yet.
Whoso blooms tho beo still rifles?
Tho roadside blackberries, growing ripe,
And In the woods the Indian pipe?
Happy tho man who tills his field,
Content with rustic labor;
Earth docs to him her fulness yield,
Hap what, may to his neighbor.
Well Jays, sound nights—oh ' can there he
A life more rational and free? •
Dear country life I ofchiUlniul man,
For both tho best, tho strongest,
That with the earliest race began,
And has oulllvcn the longest—
Their cities perished long ago;
Who tho first farmers were wo know
Perhaps our babies too will fall ; "
If »o no lamentations,
For Mother Earth will shelter all,
And feed the unborn nations!
Yes. and the swords that menace now
Will then lie beaten to tho plough.—
Hearth ami Hume
ffiisriffattoll,%.
the music distress.
I wag about sixteen when I was invl
ted by my aunt, Mrs. Merlon, to stay
with her for a few months at her house,
in that pleasant region of London, the
neighborhood of Regent’s Park. I was a
country-bred girl, and had never so much
as once visited the great city. T had all
a novice’s ideas of its gaities and splen
dors, and thought of them with almost
awe us well as curiosity.
I pass over my anticipations of that
visit, my arrival in London, the more
than fulfillment of some of my dreams,
the dissipated illusions of others.
My aunt, by her instant proposal that I
should take lessons in all the usual ac
complishments, showed her opinion of
the education I had received from a coun
try boarding-school.
Of my numerous other masters and mis
tresses *1 need not speak—l have long lor
gotten their very names ; butof my mus ! c
mistress, Grace Harvey, of whom this
little record is told, I have the most dis
tinct recollection from the \ cry first hour
In which I saw her pah* face, her great
solemn eves, that yet sometimes lit up
into wonderful beauty, her firm mouth,
and hot tall, lithe figure.
• Well,” said my aunt, when Mis-
Harvey took her departure after the first
lesson was over, “ if that young Indy lias :
such a lane connection, and so miieli
reputation as an as Mrs. Ilu- |
pert tells, I wonder she does not dress a 1
little better. A certain appearance is in- :
cumbent upon every one according to j
their moans, and Miss Harvey’s dress is
disgracefully shabby.”
•* It was not very nice,” I answered ;
i “ but, oh \ aunt, what splendid eyes she
has--that is, if they were not so full of
care.”
I was young and enthusiastic m those
davs, ami before long 1 hud contracted an
ardent admiration for Miss Harve3 f ,
which now ripened into a passionate,
girlish friendship that made my aunt an
grv, and Fred laugh kindly.
‘‘ Come, C'hattie,” said ho one day,
“ you. shall introduce me to the lady of
the handsome eyes and the shabby
ll It is very heartless of aunt Kitty to
talk so much of Miss Harvey’s dress,” I
cried ; “ if she is poor, is that her fault ?
Bhe is a far finer lady in her poor worn
dress than many of aunt’s friends who
come rustling in silks and satin. And
von, Fred, lam ashamed of you. Once
you did not think a lady made by her
dress.”
“And perhaps I don’t now, either,
Chat,” said Fred; “and hope I should
be the last man in the world to sneer at
poverty.” ....
“ Grace Harvey has no relatives, and
she lives in one room, all alone, up ever
so many stairs, in such a dark, dismal
little street; oh, Fred ! it almost stifles
mu lo think of U,” I said, eagerly. “1
mul Grace on the street one day, and it
rained, and though i think she would
have rather not, she took me for shelter
to tier room. When I saw what a poor
low place It was, I felt as if I ought nev
er to have seen it.”
“ Poot thing!" said Fred, heartily.—
“ Well, Chatlie, we have no right to pry
into tier secrets, or wonder why, with a
large mimher of pupils, she should ho so
I> °My indignation 'much soothed by
Fred's feelings and good nature, I intro
duced my brother with great pride to
Mies Harvey, and noted with a thrill of
pleasure how his bow was os gracefully
deferential, his manner as cordially re
spectful to the poor teacher of music in her
worn garments as ever I had seen either
to the most distinguished of my aunt s
fashionable friends. Miss Harvey soon
dropped, too, her rather sad reserve of
manner with him, and, as Fred about
this time became for some reason or rath
er a very dutiful nephew and a most at
tentive brother, I hud the pleasure of
seeing the acquaintance between them
improve rapidly. . How Fred managed to
lime his calls so exactly to ray music tea
sous is not tor me to say, though I was a
great deal too shrewd not to notice the
fact very speedily ; and, oh, how pleased
to draw my own conclusions from it, it
seemed lo me, young ami enthusiastic as
I was, the most natural and desirable
thin-' in the world that my darling broth
er should fall In love with and marry my
dearest friend—music mistress though
she was. While pretty sure of Frea’s
feelings in the matter, 1 was by no means
so confident of Miss Harvey’s. At hrat
she had seemed pleased with Fred, but
by degrees the old sadness and reserve
crept back into her manner; and, indeed
after’a Jittlo while 1 could see that she
plainly avoided him.
One night to my unbounded delight,
Fred took me to a concert, and when the
first part was over and I was able to spare
my attention to the audience, I com
menced a very admiring survey of the
h °> Dear me, Fred !” I exclaimed, in two
or three minutes, '* did you ever see such
a likeness? There, in the fourth row
from this oi.d. Ah ! she tins turned her
head away now ; but I could almost say
it was she.” , . . ,
'•Site! Who, my dear?” inquired
Fred. • .
“ Grace Harvey.”
“ Grace Harvey.! where? W h"t, that
girl in white silk, with those splendid
Sowers? Indeed! it is something like.
Ah! now she has turned her'head.—
E. C. ALLEN,
Augusta. Maine.
JtY U. 11. STODPAKI).
CUAPTKK I.
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, -JANUARY -21. 1869,
Marvellously like her! £ wonder who
the world it is. Is It Miss Harvey *?”.
"Nonsense, Fred,” said 1,
•‘How can It be poor Grace*? Do you
think slic can aflord tlrst-class concerts
and white silk dresses?’ 1
But after this I ami the concert jrotbut
a very divided attention from Master
Fred,
On the occasion of my next music les
son f dill not forget to tell Miss Harvey
of the lady bo closely resembling her
whom I bad.seen lit the concert, and to
my great surprise, looking at my friend
the while, I saw that her pale face Hush
ed suddenly and deeply, and for an in
stant she seemed confused add vexed.
“The resemblance must have been
strong indeed, to he visible through all
the difference of dress. 1 ought to feel
more complimented than I dare say the
lady would be, if she could know, Chat
tie,” was all-she replied, and we spoke of
it no more.
But one dav, not very long after that,
Fred came to*ino iu trouble and excite
ment.
“Ohattie,” said he, presently, “X am
going to tell you a secret. Will you be
very much surprised if I tell you that I
love Grace. Harvey dearly, and that I.
have asked her to bo my wife?”
“ Not surprised, but so glad—oh, so
glad I”
“ Wait,” said be, and though he smil
ed, he looked vexed too. “ Ills true that
I have asked Grace to marry me; but
Chattie, she has refused, in the most un
qualified aud decided manner.”
‘Oh, Fred! aud I am sure she likes
you. It Is some scruple about difference
in rank, I dare say. Haven’t you found
out how proud Grace is?”
“ To'be sure I have. But I don't think
it is that, either; tor I asked her out
right, and I could not help thinking that
my doing that made her think of it for
thow first time. No. I don’t fanev that
was her reason ; and Chattie, this is where
you can help me. I could not press Grace
for her motives but you might ask ques
tions Chat I could not. Try and come at
her reasons, will you ?”
“ But, Fred, I urn not to have my next
lesson for more than a fortnight—not till
the new piano comes home.”
“ Oh !” said poor Fred, with a look of
great dismay, “ I cannot wait that lime.
Can't you make some excuse for going to
see Miss Harvey?”
What could I not hav«? done tor Fred?
I ran away to put on my things, anil
Fred and I were soon in the dingy street,
and the house at which Miss Harvey
lived, 1 rang the hell, and Inquired for
Miss Harvey of the little girl who opened
It. ....
” Yes, Miss Harvey was in—would I
walk up?” , ,
mumbling up the dark ami crooked
staircase after this email handmaid, we
at length arrived at Miss Harvey’s door
The child knocked; but, as there wa-* no
answer, opined it and told me to walk
in. I did so. There was the low and
dismal room I hud often thoughtol with
a pang—and there I stood transfixed iu
mute astonishment; for that instant a
door leading out of this room opened,
showing me a momentary glimpse ol
mirror-gilding ai d rich furniture within,
and Grace herself, beautifully attired iu
an evening dress, with jewels mi her
arms and stately neck, stood in the door
way. She in turn looked sur
prised. almost frightened. As shd saw
mo she closed the door behind her quick
ly, and her face was crimson as she fal
tered—
“ Chattie, is it yon ?"
I was so utterly bewildered bv what I
saw—the discrepancy between her rich
dress and apparent, indeed, professed
poverty —that I did my errand badly
enough, I dare say. Grace's luce seemed
to grow cold and stern us site listened,
uud replied briefly, that “ Mr. Talbot
must consider her decision final, as it
"tvior Pied ! I told him all I had scon,
wlit'ii I gave him her answer, and we
never spoke of (Dace Harvey after that.
My v sit to town came loan abrupt close
sotiii alter wards, and my friend-diip for
my music teacher became only a memo
ry-
L’H AI’TKII 11.
It was some years after this that me
ami my brother—now a grave lawyer
immersed in business—paid a brief visit
to the gray, old cathedral town where wo
were botil born. .
One evening—a summer evening, fall
of tranquil beauty, I remember—ns we
sauntered under the shadow of the clois
ters, I noticed the figure of a woman sit
ting on one of the stone benches beneath
them, looking out over the graveyard be
yond, where tire lung sun-shadows were
growing dusky in the fading light.
Something in the figure attracted me, ami
as we passed I looked into her face. I
knew her instantly ; yea—careworn, fa
ded, shabbier in dress even than of old
1 knew Grace Harvey; ami so touched
was I too, by something inexpressibly
sad and hopeless in her wistful face and
wfiary attitude, that forgetting the awk
wardness ol any meeting accompanied as
1 was, I stood still and said involuntari
ly—
“ Grace Harvey
She looked up hastily, and hy the col
or that Hushed into her pale, thin faee, I
saw that she recognized us. It was a
very awkward meeting, hut the good
breeding and self-control of the two most
concerned, made it pass nil belter than
one might have hoped.
Miss Harvey was not.iesidiug in Deans
hury no, only hero for a day or two. —
She laid known the place ns a child, and
loved it dearly. 1
I think this was the sum of the infor
mation-we gathered concerning herself ,
before we partcif, which we did very
soon, though, in spite of alt the mysteri
ous circumstances that seemed fo sur
round Mias Harvey, mi heart yearned
towards the object of my passionate,
youthful friendship, when she hade ns
good bye ituhec low, thrilling voice, and
left us,
' Fred and I wandered abroad much la
ter than usual that night, talnfngof those
old times ; and when I learned, ns I did
then, how'constant my.brother hud been
to the memory of his curly love—how no
ble ids simple faith In goodness, not
withstanding the mystery surrounding
her life—l made a vow in my heart, al
though I said nothing about it to him.
A day or two after this, as I was coin
ing out of tile cathedral, I lingered an in
stant to admire a new stained window
that was in the process of pulling in whan
we first arrived at Oeansbury. As I did
so, two other persons carne from another
direction ami paused before it, and, not
noticing me, begun to talk of the win
dow. • 1 soon gathered that the lady had
presented this new memorial window,
and the gentleman was eager to know
'whether the work had been executed ac- ;
cording to her wish, and so forth.
“ Yes ” she answered, softly ; and the
voice was familiar to mo, though I could
not see her face. “Your part of the work
is well done ; and mine—ah ! 1 havetelt
as if I could not rest till it was accom
plished. And now that it is done, I be
am to ask myself what other need of me
therein in the world. I think I have
never really felt lonely till now.
The gad, patient voice thrilled through
me; ami when Grace turned away, ns she
did almost directly, I hastened alter and
overtook her. under the gray, old arch
way of the gate She colored faintly when
she saw me, but did not icluso to walk
back with me round the cloisters.
“ Grace,” said X, presently, “ I wonder
if you ever remember how fond I was of
you.”
“ You were a good, kindohild l , ’ she an
swered, with a faiiit'sniile, “and. I be
lieve, loved me better than reserved."
“ Then, Grace, make me amends. 1 ell
mo whv —”
“ Tell you all my secrets, I suppose /
she answered* “ Well, Chattie, I don t
know.that 1 need keep them any longer.
I am very suro that no other hut your
kind self would care to hear Shall
wo ait here, where we can see that largo
lomb? Can you read tho names on tins
nlde, Chaltle?”
“ Yos. ft is tlio family v ult of Henry
Armylng* 1 . of Langton H•’ .”
“ t wonder whether my bon.-s will rest
there?” said Grace, wistfully. He was
my father, Chattie?”
I shall not give Grace’s story in her
own'words, tliough they were far more
touching ami eloquent than any I can
pretend to describe. It was brioliy this •
She was one of the three daughters of
Henry Armytage. of Langton estate, at
his death, reverted to the male heir, a
distant connection only* The three
daughters were, however, handsomely
dowered, and at their father’s death re
tired to a neighboring small property,
where they lived in much comfort, and
even style. Grace, the youngest, was
jnany years the junior of the other la
dies, clever, and a beauty. The elder
sisters »were inordinately fond of this
girl ; pampering and indulging her in
every.caprice; sacrificing themselves for
her, and only happy when she was pleas
ed. They naturally looked to her set
tling in life in a manner accordant with
her ancient name and handsome means ;
instead of which the willful girl chose to
throw herself away upon a man ever}'
way her inferior, ami, as it turned out. of
the most unprincipled character. The
elder sisters at'*flrst refusing their con
sent to the union, the pair eloped, wj* re
married, and for a, year or two were heard
of no more.
The elder sisters, only anxious to for
give, lost no opportunity of discovering
their whereabouts, and at last triumph
antly brought back the runaway young
people to their house at Falrbridgc.—
Here for a while they all lived ; hut be
fore very long it was discovered that Mr.
Harrington had dissipated hi* wife’s for
tune, and the pair were entirely depend
ent on their relatives. In vain ihe sim
ple ladies tried to save them from the
consequences of their own sins and fol
lies. While money was to ho had the.
husband of the younger would spend it;
and at last, when everything available
had been obtained, disappeared, leaving
his wife behind. The Misses Armytage
and their sister left Falrbrklgo forever,
and wont to London ; hut while they had
a penny they feebly strove to avert dis
grace and ruin from their sister’s hus
band. When all was gone, the -poor la
dies patiently set about trying to earn a
living, and w Idle thus engaged, the youn
ger. who had rejoined tier husband for a
while, came back to them, calmly told
them that she had parted with him for
ever, assumed her mother’s maiden name,
and declared that she would live ami die
with her sisters. She was energetic and
Mover, and, as a teacher of music she had
already got remunerative employ, when
one of her sisters took a fever, languished
and died. Almost before she was burled
the other was taken ill, and, though her
life was spared to her stricken sister, was 1
hopelessly imbecile from that time. The
one pleasure of which she seemed capa
ble was that of liking to see round her
.the sights and luxuries of her early life ;
and to give the poor invalid these, be
came the one absorbing duty of the youn
ger sister’s existence. She removed her
sister to the house of an old servant, who
let apartments, and who would keep her
secret,labored night ami day to luniNli
one room iit the style of her sister’s own
ut Langton, and, while she herself lived
upon the poorest fare, supplied the other
table with luxuries. After her long day’s
work, the poor girl would replace her
poor, worn dress with one such as she
bail worn in the days of prosperity, and
jlevoto herself to the poor imbecile, stri
ving to call back those early days in
which alone she seemed to live; a drive
now and then, in unfrequented suburbs ;
a visit to a concert, which was a source
of rapturous delight to the invalid these
were all I he substantial enjoyments Grace
could venture on. If her husband hud
the slightest idea that she gained money
enough to give what she did to her sis
ter, he would not long have left her in
peace. She guarded her secret carefully,
and only seemed to have valued her life
as dedicated to the service of her sister,
to whom, indeed, she owed such terrible
•atonement.
And then came the day when she could
do no more—when her love, her prayers,
her labors, could give nothing move to
that quiet figure on whom her tears fell
so bitterly—and she could only bury her
dead out of her sight, and realize —oh,
how remorsefully! oh, how tenderly!
that little of wrong can bo sot right in
this world.
“It comforted me, somehow, to work
hard, that I might lay them both in yon
der tomb, where they had wished to lie ;
and when that was done, I labored to
put up the window to their memory.”—
Grace concluded ; and then I undersotod
the words I heard her say in the church.
“And your husband?” I ventured to
say, timidly, presently.
“ He is gone to where my forgiveness
cannot reach him,” she answered, calm
ly. “ Ah, (Jbuttie. Ihere was no room for
regret in my heart for him.”
And this wiis Grace’s story. I told it
to Fred in the moonlight cloUlev that
night, and ah he said was, “ Poor dar
ling! Dear, noble Grace.”
>Jeed I tell the ending of the' story?
ami that Grace has been, for some years,
my dear sister and Fred's happy wife?
A BEMISISCKXCI’ OF HE&KIY CLAY.
The San Francisco Bulletin says
A distinguished citizen of Sail Fran
cisco who was a member of Congress
from one ol the older states us long ago
ns 1842, und who was that year u mess
mate ot Henry Clay in W iishington, is
in possession of a memorandum, in Mr.
Clay’s writing, which curiously illus
trates his neatness ami piecision in the mi
nor uliuirs of life, it is simply a pro
gramme for tne cook to lollow, which
was written rapidly, oil' hand, in very
neat characters and endorsed “ 11. Clay's
memorandum for the session.” To show
what were the tastes ol “ the great com
moner,” we copy ihe hill of hue in lull :
Sunday —Uoaat or build turkey, an old
ham ol bacon, a mutton chop, a pair ol
canvass buck ducks, und vegetables.
Monday—(Jo'd bacon ham, roast heel,
stewed oysters, and a leg of mutton boil
ed with vegetables.
Tue.-day—A boiled piece of domed beef
(brisket,) a goose, patridges and mutton
chop, \vnb vegetables.
Wednesday—A ro ;k fish, an old hum
of bacon, tuikey, boiled fowls und veal
cutlets, with vegetables.
Thursday—Cold hum, roast mutton,
sleued oysters and a beef steak, with
vegetables.
Friday—Corned beef(briaket,) mutton
chop,goose, hum of veal, with vegetables.
.Saturday—Cold corned beef, rock fish,
roasted lowls, leg of mutton boiled, und
birds.
Soups und julicn to be given as often
as convenient—every day if so.
When the above was written Mr. Clay
was about sixty-two years of age. IDs
loudness for ham and rich meals, even
on Friday, is noticeable. It will be seen
also, that be ranks Sunday as the first
day of the week.
Magnitude of London —lts bouses
number more than 5150,000, and it**streets,
il placed in line, would extend from Liv
erpool to New York, and are lighted at
night by 3(50,000 gas lamps, consuming in
every twenty-four hours about 13,(UU,000
cubic feet of gas. Of the water supply,
44,383,328 gallons are used per day. The
traveling public sustain 5,000 cabs und I,*.
SUO omnibuses, besides all the other sons
of vehicles which human needs can re
quire or human ingenuity invent. Its
hungry population devour in the course
of every year, 1,000,000 quarters of wheat,
210,000 bullocks, 1,700,000 sheep, 28,000
calve? 3'5,000 pigs, 10,000,000 head of
game,’3,ooo,ooo salmon, and innumerable
fish brother sorts, and consume 43,200,000
gallons of beer, 2,000,000 gallons of spir
t's, and 00,000 pipes of wine. As a eon
sequence, 2,000 doctors find constant tun
ploymeut. London, finally, {supports b 52
churches, which are presided over by 030
divines of more or leaa note.
FIVE UIIiES ABOVE Till; EAUTH,
A TUIUI.I.INIS ADVHmTAi:
One dull day i \ August, just afternoon,
a balloon rose in ttie air at tlu* loot of
Cloet Fills, on the western edge of the
central pishi of England. It was influ
tedt with the lightest of gases which
chemical skill could produce, and it rose*
with amazing velocity* A mile, up and
it entered a stratum of cloud more than a
thousand feet thick. Emerging from
this, the sun shone brightly on the air
ship ; the sky overhead was of the clear
est and deepest blue,and below lay cloud
land—an immeasurable expanse of cloud
whoso surface looked na solid as that of
the earth not wholly lost to view. Lofty
mountains and deep, dark ravines, ap
peared below the peaks and sides of these
cloud-mountains next the sun, glittered
like, snow, but casting shadows’as if they
were solid rock, Up rose the balloon
with tremendous velocity. Four miles
above the earth a pigeon was let loose ;
it dropped down through the air as if it
had been a stone. The air was"too thin
to enable if to fly. It was as if a bark
laden to the deck were to pass from the
heavy waters of the sea intban Inland
unsaiin lake; the bark would sink at
once hr the thinner water. Up, U'p, still
higher! What a silence profound ! The
heights of the sky were as still as the
deepest depths of the ocean, where, as
was found during the search for the lost
Atlantic cable, the line mud lines ns un
stirred from year to year as the dust
which imperceptibly gathers on the fur
niture of a deserted house. Ko sound,
no life—only the bright sunshine lulling
through a sky which It could not warm.
Up—live miles above earth !- higher
than the inaccessible summit of Chim
borazo Dawangiri. Despite the sun
shine, everything freezes. The air grows
too thin to support life, even for a few
minutes. Two men only are in that ad
venturous balloon the one steering
the air ship, the other watching the
scientific instruments, and record
ing (hem with a rapidlt3 f bred of Jong
practice. Suddenly as the latter looks at
his instruments, his sight grows dim ;
he lakes a lens to help hH sight; and on
ly marks from th*e fallen barometer that
they are testing rapidly. A flask of bran
dy lies within a foot of him ; ho tried to
roach it, but his arm refused to obey his
will. He tries to call on his comrade,
who has gone up into the ring above ; a
whisper in that deep silence would suf
fice—but no sound comes from his lips
he is voiceless. The steersman comes
, down into the car; he sees his comrade
in a swoon, and feels his own senses fail- ►
ing him.
lie saw at once that life »nd death hung
upon a few’ moments. Tie seized or tried
to sieze the valve, in order to open it and
ief out the gas. His hands are purple
with intense cold—they arc paralyzed,
they will not respond to ills will. He
seized the valve with his teeth ; it opened
a Utile—once, tw.lco, thrice. The balloon
began to descend. Then the swooned
marksman returned to consciousness,
and saw the steersman standing be'ore
him. He looked at his instrument; but
now the barometer was rising rapidly ;
I the balloon was descending. Brandy was
i used. They had been higher above earth
I than mortal man or any living thing had
i everbeen before. One minute more of ae
-1 tion—of -compulsor> iiovtioa- on the
{ part of the steersman, whose senses were
( failing him, and the, air ship, with its
, intensely rarl/ied gas, would have been
•! floating ’unattended, with two corpses, in
j the wide realms of space.
To-dny ntl<l To-morrow.
To-day we gather bright and beautiful
iwois— to morrow they are faded and
Tn-day a wreath of leaves shade us—to
morrow, sear and fallen* they crumble
beneath our tread.
To-day Ihe earth is covered with a car
pet of green—to-morrow it is brown with
the withered grass.
To-day the vigorous stalk only bends
before the grain—to-morrow “ the land is
taking its Sabbath after the toil.”
To day we hear sweet songsters of
meadow and forest, the buzz and hum of
myriad insects; to-morrow—breathe soft
ly—all nature is hushed and silent.
* To-day a stately edifice, complete in
finish und, surroundings, attracts the
passer by—to morrow a heap of ruins
mark the site.
To-day there are cattle on a thousand
hills—to-morrow they fall in slaughter.
The fashion of the world passeth away.
Bill let Christ dwell within us, and
though we may pass away like the fad
ded leaf and the sapless stalk, wo shall
“arFe to /fewness of life.”
When* evyrlii.sllna sprint* altUh“S
Amt m*vor wintering ll 'uers.
Mannkus?.—There is nothing which
adds so much to a young man’s success
in life—next to honesty of purpose—as
the practice of good manners. A polite
man will show his good breeding wherev
er lie goes ; on the side walks, in the bug
gy, as well as in youi parlor. If you meet a
man who refuses to give you half »he
road, or turn out on the sidewalk, you
may class him as a man with no sense of
justice if/ his soul. When we speak of
polite men we do not wish to bo under
stood as referring to one who bows low
and lakes ot! his hat to ladies ami men
of positions, and turns away from the
poor man. but we mean the honest face
the- man who always carries a smile on
his countenance, and who never turns
his lace away from the poop: we mean
the man who has a kind salutation when
lie meets you in the morning, and a
pleasant “ Oooil night” In the evening;
a man whose face is always void of of
fens-. £uch a man is bound to succeed ;
such a one will tlud friends. Young men
be polite. Don’t be bigger than your
breeches.
An Agent of the Lord.—Deacon
Simes was an austere man who followed
ovstering and was of hardshell persuu
bh'n. The deacon ’alius made It a pint’
to tell his customers that the money
which lie received for ‘inters’ did not be
long i» him. “The good father made
the‘inters,’” said the deacon, “and the
money is hi’n ; I'm only a stooart.”—
One Sunday morning the old fellow was
tearing round from house to house with
a suspicious bit of currency in his hand,
am! more than a suspicion of rage In his
face. Someone hud given him a bad llf
ly cents, mid he “ wus’nl goiu’ to meet
in’ till that nr was fixed up.” “Why
de. con,” said one of bis customers,
whom J e hud tackled about It, “what’s
the odds? wlm’t need you care, it Isn’t
yours; you know, you are only a steward :
it isn’t your loss.” The deacon shifted
his shoulder, walked to the door, unship
ped his (pud, and said, “Yuss, that’s
so: but i( you think that I’m goiu’ to
stand by and see the Lord cheated out of
lifiy cents you are mistaken. I don't
jostcr no such fcclin ’.”
jpSKln a Western village aoharming.
well-preserved widow had been courted
and won by a physician. She bud chil
dren ; among them a crippled boy, who
had been petted, and, If not spoiled, cer
tainly allowed very great “ Ireedom in
debate.” The wedding day was approach
ing, and it was lime the children should
know they were to have a new father. —
Calling the crippled boy,, she said:
“George I’m going to do eoiuething be
fore long that I would like to talk about
with you.”
“ Well, imi, what is it? 1
•• 1 am intending to marry Dr. Jones
in u iVv; ihi\s, iiml-” •
“ Uulu ;«*: uia! Docs Dr. June*
know its" „ .
Mu caught her breathe, but failed to ar
ticulate a response.
■fciT Frank Keno i?- said to have buried
SUU,UOO, the product • f his robberies,
somewhere, and the secret died with him.
VOL. r,5.
-NO. 32.
A Blessed Day.— What a blessed day
is Sunday to a man who neces-nrlly
catches but brief glimpses of home dur
ing the toiling week; who*is otr in the
morning while IKtle eyes are closed in
slumber, nor back Jit night till they are
again closed In sleep. What would he
know of the very children for whom ho
lolls were it not for the blessed breathing
respite of Sunday. What honest work
ing man’s child will ever forget this,
when, clean and neat, it is his privilege
to climb papa’s knee, and hang about his
neck, Aim tell him all the news that goes
to make tip his narrow little world.—
“ Narrow,” did we say? Wo recall the
word; for it widens out Into a boundless
ocean of eternity. Sunday for the work
ing-man’s children,! So wo would have
U—a day hallowed by sweet, pure, home
influences, when the little band, quite
complete, shall rest from labor, and Love
shun write it down the blessed day of all
the seven.
“ Day of nil the week the be l -!,
Kmblom of eloinnl rest,’’
CSaf Ex-Sovernor Briggs, of Massachu
setts, used to relate tno following, which
a correspondent averse has not been in
print:
“ In the old stage-coach days, an Irish
man was traveling in New England.—
Arriving late* at the town where they
were to spend the night, Pat discovered,
tohis dismay,-that his only chance lor
sleep was to share a couch of a colored
brother. The natural repugnance of Ids
race made him loth to accept the situa
tion ; but being very tired, lie submit
ted with as good a grace as possible- In
the night some mischievous boys black
ed his face. In the morning fifteen miles
were to be traveled before breakfast. Our
Celtic friend was awakened just in time
to spring into the carriage as it was mov
ing off. At their slopping place he tound
no convenience for washing. Stepping
up to a glass to arrange hishair, he start
ed back in horror, exclaiming, “ Be ja
ilers, you've woke the dirty nigger, and
left me fifteen miles behind ! ,:
There is a magistrate in a town in
Indiana named 11* laer. A clergyman
In the same place was called upon by a
young couple not long since who wished
him tojoin them in the holy bond-* of mat
rimony. Ho allied the bridegroom (a
soldier by the way) fo>* his marriage li
cense. The man in blue responded*ih- L
be liad been engaged to the girl four
years, and thought that would do. The
clergyman thought nol, ami remarked
as the speediest way to obtain n liwnse :
“You liad better lake jour girl and go
to hell yourself!” retorted the angry
veteran. And seizing the bride by the
arm, he dragged her from the house,
wondering what manner of a profane
minister he liad met with.
Complying With Insthvctions.—
Connl Kponneck, the conlUleniiul adviser
of the King of Greece, is a aentlcinan of
50, possessed of extraordinary presence
of mind. When he tirat went to Greece,
lie bad with him on board the steamer a
powerful Newfoundland dog, to which
he was much attached. The dog one day
fell overboard, and Count Bponncck ask
ed the (Captain of the vessel to have the
engineer stop, that his dog might be
saved. “ Your Excellency,” replied the
Cap;ain, “my instructions arc to stun
only when a man has fallen overboard.”
“ Very well,” said the count, who was
an excellent swimmer, ami jumpedover
board. The steamer stopped, and both
count and his dog wee, in live minutes
afterward, again on board.
tSST A certain political speaker closed
an address in behalf of his party with
the following florid peroration.-
“Build a worm fence around a win
ter’s supply of summer weather; skim
the clouds with a spoon ; catch a thun
der bolt in a bladder; break a hurricane
to harness; ground s'ulcc on earthquake ;
bake h—ll in an ice house ; lasso an ava
lanche; pin a diaper on the crater of an
active volcano; hive all the stars in a
nail keg; hang the ocean on a grapevine
to dry ; put''the sky to soak in a gourd;
unbuckle the belly hand of eternity, and
paste * To let’ on the sun and moon, but
never, sir—never for a moment, sir, de
lude yourself with the idea that any tick
et or party can beat our candidate-”"
fiS5“ A Yankee, conveying an English
gentleman around Boston, took him to
Bunker Hill. They stood looking at the
splendid shaft, when the Yankee said :
“ This is the spot where Warren fell.”
“AUI” replied-the Englishman, evi
dently not posted up in historical mut
ters, “ did it ’urt ’im much ?”
The native looked at him with (he ex
pression of fourteen 4th of Juiya in ids
countenance.
“ Hurl him ! M lie exclaimed ,
killed, .Mir,”
“Ah! 'e \vu«, oh I .”' said the stranger,
Mill eyeing the monument, and com pu
ling its height In hi* own mind, layer hy
layer, “Well, 1 should think V would
'ave been 'url to fall so far. 1 '
fiST A minister was pouring forth bis
eloquence from {lie pulpit when sr me of
his auditors got to snoring. “ Some
time since a friend visited an Indian
camp meeting in Canada ami perceived
what he never saw at a meeting before —
an olllcer who was provided with a long
pole with,a largo spike in the end. and
as he kept walking around through the
crowd, would, when he saw any one
asleep, punch them with the pole.”—
Again the minister paused, and then ad
ded. “ 1 wish we had him here to
night.” The audience kept awake the
remainder of that evening.
A Long (’.n’uisim*. —a young lady
said to her beau, after tlfleen years’court
ship, “Charles 1 am going out of town
to-morrow.” “ Where ?” “ I don’t
know.” “ When are you coming back?’ ’
“Never.” “What are you going for?”
I’m going to look for something which
you have not, never had, ami yet can
give me wlihoutl oss to yourself?” “ Vou
are very welcome to it, I am sure ; but
what is it?” “A husband I” "Why,
you might have had that fifteen years
ago, if you had only said the word ; but
1 was afraid to ask you the question."
A good story is told of a rustic
youth and u buxom country girl, who
sat facing each at a husking psrty. ■ The
youth, smitten with the charms of the
beautiful maiden, only ventured u sly
look, and now anil then touching Pat
ty »a foot under the. table,' The girl de
termined to make the youth express
what be appeared so warmly to I eel, bore
with these advances a little while in si
lence, when she cried out, “Look here,
if you love me say bo, but lon’t dirty my
stockings- 5 ’
SST Here Is Mark Twain’s last con
tribution to the poetic literature of the
world :
They sat upon the front door mat,
Wlierosoftly shone the moon.
And listened i« the music that
Outao/rom the beersulooa.
nisronnlyarm did round her twine.
Their lips In tcissos mol;
And when ho naked," Wilt thou be mine ?
She said, "t will, you bet I"
j£jy“As X was going over the bridge
the other d iy,” said a native of Erin, “ X
met Pat Hewing.” “ Hewins,” says I,
“how are you?” Pretty well, thank
you, DoTUiellv,” says he.—'" Donnelly' 1
aaya 1, “ Unit's not my name” “ Kaiih,
tlien, no more Is mine Hewins.’’ “So
with that we looked at om! anoiner
again. tu»’ su;»* eoouah.it was ra.ytuur
of us.” '
jj-jy- It i>eh»g hinted to a barrister who
was wearying the court with a long and
du'l argument that he ought to hung U
to a close, he angrily replied “1 will
speak us long as 1 p tease “ \ou have
spoken longer than you ylcaac already,”
Bald bis antagonist.
Hates for . C&taettising.
Advertisements wui be inserted at Ten Cents
per lino for the first Insertion, and fire cent*
por lino for each subsequent Insertion. Quar
terly .half-yearly, and yearly advertisements In
serted at a liberal redaction on the above rate
Advertisements should bo accompanied by tita
Cash. When sent .without any length ol lima
specified for publication, they will be continued
until ordered out and charged accordingly.
JOB PRINTING.
Cards, Handbills, Circulars, andevsry oth
or description of Jon and Card Printing •seen
led in the nearest stvlo, at. low prices.
ODDH AND LMDS.
Which State con talus the happiest
people? Merry-land.
Why is a mouse like a load of bay?—
Because the cat’ll eat it. „
“ Nat, what are you leaning; on that
empty cask for?” “ I’m mourning over
departed spirits.”
Says an editor, out West, “Where,
will you Hind any piodern buildings that
lasted so Jong as tho ancient ?”
Miss Tompkins fays every unmarried
lady of forty Ims passed tho Capd of Good
Hope. ,
What class of men should attend auc
tions? Mon whoso laces are forbid
ding.
“Love lies bleeding!” Josh Billings
says this is probably one of the darndest
les that ever was told.
Miss Joy says she is glad she fs not “ a
thing of beauty,” for she would not like
to bo “ a Joy forever.” *
A great ninny people In the countty
are like a portion of the French—fond of
putting down the old Bourbon element.
Why is a baby like wheat? Because It
ih first cradled, Hum thrashed, and final
ly becomes the flower of a family.
AN’ English clergyman was recently so
busy electioneering that ho left a corpse
awaiting burial service in church from 4
in the afternoon until S in tho evening.
An article announcing the deceoed of n
person, says : “His remains were com
mitted to that bourne whence no travel
ler returns accompanied by his friends.”
It was an old bachelor who said .: “If
you meet a young lady who is not very
shy, you had better be a little shy your
self.”
A charity scholar, under examina
tion in the P-alms, being asked, “ What
is the pestilence that waiketh in dark
ness?”, replied, “ please, sir, bedbugs.”
“I don’t believe it’s any use, this
vaccination,” said a Yankee* “ I had a
chi d vaccinated, and ho fell out of a
winder a week alter and got killed.
Tin' following sentiment is attripn
ted to Napoleon Bonaparte : “ A hnnd
som woman pleases the eye, but a good
woman pleases the heart. The one is a
Jewel —the other is a treasure.”
An Oregon journal is progressing. It~
notices births under the head of “ Come;”
marriages it styles “ Fixed to Stay ;” and
deaths it reports under the head of
“ Gone.”
Thekr are more editors unmarried
than any other class of professional men,
because wo suppose, the majority of them
arc men of Hue sentiment, and do not
wish to starve anybody’s sister.
A lady asked her little girl, on return
ing from church, if she remembered the
text. “ Oh, yes,” said she, it was this—
‘ The ladles’ sewing Society will meet at
Mrs. M. McCracken’s house Monday eve
ning next.”
When Rothschild heard that the head
of the Agnade family was dead, “ How
much does he leave?” he asked. “Twen
ty millions.” “You mean eighty.” “No
twenty.” “Dear me! I thought be was
la easy circumstances,” remarked the
modem Croccsus.
An absent minded gentleman intend
ing to scratch his bead in church, reach
ed over and performed the operation for
an «Id maid in the next pew. He dis
covered his mistake when he found him
self defendant in an action of breach of
promise.
An exchange, in speaking of the magi
cal strains of a hand organ, says : “ When
the organist played ‘Old Dog Tray,' "**
noticed eleven pupsaltting in frontof the
machine on their haunches, brushing tho
tears from their eyes with their fore
paws.” ,
An editor wrote a leading article on tho
fair sex, in the course of which he said :
“ Girls of seventeen or eighteen are fond
of beaus.” When the paper was issued,
he was rather shocked to discover that
an unfortunate typographical* error had
made him say: “Girls of seventeen or
eighteen are fond of beaus.”
A patlander, on traveling on his
way to Manchester, New Hampshire, ar
rived at the forks of a road where stood a
sign-board which read thus: “Mindica
tor four miles.” “ Man chased her four
miles?” cried Pat. “Bo the holy poker,
I could have caught her meseif in half
tbo time/ 1
“ What is your consolation In life and
death?” asked a clergyman of
Miss in a Bible class that lie was cate :
chising- The young lady blushed and
hesitated. “Will you not tell me?”—
urged tho clergyman. “ I don’t wan’t to
toll his name,” said the ingenuous girl,
" but I have no objection to telling whore
ho lives.”
“ be was
Work with a will ami also with voiir
hands and head. It U such that achieve
ing the groat things of the world. Noth
in easy that lias rahio. Laziness and
sloth never raised a man above the grade
of a monkey. Work does the tiling, the
right thing, and the whole thing. Tlm-*-
who have never performed any should
try a little. It is healthy, besides b inp
useful.
In tho last sickness of old Tom lh-t.-
ton, his physician, to prolong his Ua.V*
opened his abdomen and took out i I
bowels while he was conscious and pn
ceeded to clean them. At one place th*
found grape skins; they found bits *.i
wood which lie uatd to chew abstra i
ly while writing or reading. ”L< o < <*t
gentlemen,” said the old man fei-! 1 , I
dare say you will find Conynajmn-i'
(tlobcs next.”
A great admirer of Bo Witt Clinton,
who was then Governor of New York,
visited Pennsylvania, where ho met a
Dutchman, who was equally enthusias
tic in his praise of Gov- Schenider, thou
Chief Magistrate of the K‘*yptonefitaU-.
'Hie New Yorker In his laudations of his
governor said that Do Will Clinton wa- n
very shrewd and long headed man.
“ Vell,”repliea the Dutchman,** Govern**
Kchenider hasn’t such a berry longhead,
but it t.i berry tide.”
A BOMAKTIC pairaie btes-ed with a
number of daughters. The eldest is ealli"’
Caro-line; the second, Made-line; ilm*
third, Eve-line; the fourth Angeline;
whenlo! the fifth made lis appear no .
and no name could be found with tin* «*•
sired determination. Determined, h-w
ever, to “light it out on that if ■ •
took all summer,” the parents at leny.h
pounced upon a name very poim nr
in their neighborhood, and forthwith tbo
baby was called Crino-line!
Did you ever eee a boy lira candy simp
who had only a penny to spend? Ii
worth a penny to know his thoughts
They run in about this manner: What
can I get the most of for a cent? Wou-d
a Jackson ball or a peppermint lost t: e
longer? How many peanuts do you got
for a cent? How big aro the penny cakes
of maple sugar? How many gum drops
for a cent? Who of us has not passed
through this trying ordeal before deci
ding upon the actual investment? Give
the boys mind a chance to work.
The following queer typographical
blunder occurs in the Winstead liirnld %
the article being a communication on the
recent meteoric shower, by a correspon
dent: “On the morning ot the 14th Inst.,
at live o’clock os I weut out to milk my
cows, X observed numerous shooting
slurs; and I counted while milking six
stars, more than onq - hundred and twenty
cows—some small, with a short tail of
light, and some large and brilliant, in a
stream of fire, extending across the heav
ens lor perhaps thirty degrees, and fail
ing from south east to north west, etc.,
etc.”