®|fc American Volunteer. PUIILISHBD EVERY THURSDAY MOUNENU 11 rtA'J' l’ ON ld Klaml, as lio fools confident of giving entire sa Is* faction. Oct, 1870.. SHUUtfiKSi, sfr. '$ f .. $. § 9 s § JAMES CAMPBELL. | W. F. HEN WOOD. CAMPJBJELITIf JIJSNWOOD, PLUMBERS, GAS AND STEAM FITTERS, No. IS Worth H(.mover St., OARLIH L E. :P A, HATH TUBS, WATER CLOSETS, WASH HA,SINS, HYDRANTS, LIFT AND FORCE PUMPS, CISTERN AND DEEP WELL PUMPS, • GAS FIXTURES, CAS SHADES AND GLOBES &c., ttc. lead. Iron and Terra Cotta Pipe, CHIMNEY TOPS and FLUES, AII kinds ol BRASS WORK -or Steam ami Water constantly on band. WORK IN TOWN OR COUNTRY promptly attended to. I'a-linmodlute attention given to orders for material or work Irom a dlstuuco.-£jr Having special advantages wo are prepared to furnish k k fe b ,h k k Bep. 1, 70—-lv WHOLESALE AT CITY PRICES, constantly on hand such ns OLOVES, SUSPENDERS, NECK TIES and BOWS, SHIRT FRONTS, Cambric and Mnon Handker chiefs, LUnen' and Paper Collars and CuflS, Trimmings Braids, Spool Cotton, Wallotta Comha.Stationary, wrapping Paper and Paper Rags, Drugs, Soaps and Perfumery, Shoo Black, Stove Polish, Indigo, Segars. s eases. This Is emphatically tho case in the United States. Whether this general prova-, leuco Js due to tho character ot the food, the method of its preparation, or the hasty manner lu which it is usually swallowed, Is notour pro vlnco to explain. The great fact with which wo ore called to deal Is this: DYSPEPSIA PREVAILS almost universally^ • Nearly every other' person yon meet is a vic tim, an apparently willing one, for were this not the case, why so many * offerers, when a certain, speedy ami safe remedy is within the easy reach of all whodeslro toavall themselves of it? But the majority will not. Blinded by preju dice, or deterred by some other unexplained in fluence, they refuse to accept the relief profer ed-lhcim They turn'a deaf ear to - the testimony of the thousands whose sufferings have been al leviated, and with strange infatuation. app3ar to cling with desperate determination to their ruthless tormentor. But says a dyspeptic: Whatlsthlsremcdy? to which wo reply: This great alleviator of human suffering Is almost as widely known as the English language. It has allayed the agonies of thousands, and is to-day ‘carrying comfort and encouragement to thou sands of others. This acknowledged pauaceals none other than Dit. HOOFLAND’S GERMAN BITTERS. Would you know more of the merits of this wonderful medicine than can bo learned from the experience of others? Try itbyoursclf,and when It has .fulled to fulfil the assurance of Its efficacy given by the proprietor, then abandon faith In It. • LET IT BE REMEMBERED, first of all, that ,Hoofiand’s Gorman Bitters Is not a rum beverage. ’ , .. They are not alcoholic In any sense of the term. They are composed wholly of the purp Juicoorvilal prlnolploof roots, This is not a mere assertion. The extracts from which they are compounded are prepartd by one,of the ablest German Unlike any other Bitters In the market, they are wholly free from spirituous ingredients, The objections which hold Willi so much force atr.’nst preparations or tills class, nann-ly—t lint ac’ iroior intoxicating drinks Is stimulated by the. • use, are’not valid in the case of the German . .tiers. So far from encouraging or mculating r. taste or desire for Inebriating beverages, it in: y bo confidently as' sorted that their tendency Is in a dlametrlcallj opposite .direction,. Their efforts can bo BENEFICIAL ONLY ‘ ~ In all cases of the biliary system. Hoofiaudi German Bitters stand without an equal, acting promptly and vigorously upon the Liver, they remove Its torpidity and cause healthful sccie tlon of bile—thereby supplying the stomach with the most Indispensable elements of sound digestion In proper proportions. They give tone to the stomach— sllinulailng its.funclibns, and enabling It to perform ite duties us nature de signed it should do. They,lmpart vigor and strength to the entire system, causing the pa tient to feel like another being—in fact, giving him a now lease of life. • _ . THEY PURIFY THE BLOOD. Cleansing the vital fluid of all hurtful Impuri ties and supplying them with the elements of genuine healthluluess. In a word, there is scarcely a disease In which they cannot bo safely and beneficially employed ; but In. that most generaliy prevalent distressing and dread ed disease. Dyspepsia. THEY STAND UNRIVALED. Now, there afe certain classes of persons to whom extreme liters aro not oniy unpalata ble, but who find It .impossible to take them without positive dlscomiort. for such Du. lIOOFLAND’S QEUMaN TONIC has been specially prepared. Ills intended for use whore a slight alohohol stimulant Is requir ed in connection with the well-known lonic properties of the pure German B tiers. Ibis Tonic contains all the Ingredients ol theßltlcrt. but so flavored as to remove the extreme bitter ness. ' This preparation Is not only palatable, but combines, In modified form, all the virtues of ‘the German Bitters. The, solid extracts of some of Nature’s choicest restoratives arc held In solution by a spirituous agentof the purest quality. In cases oflanguor or excessive dobli liy, whore the system appears to have become exhausted of its enencles. . „ • HOOFLAND’S TONIC acls with almost marvelous effect. It not only, stimulates tho flagging and wasting energies, but Invigorates and permanotly strengthens its action upon the Liver ami Stomach thorough perhaps less prompt than the Bitters, when the same Quantity Is taken Is none tho less Certain. Indigestion, Bllllommesa, Physical or Nervous Prostrotlon, vleldreadlly toits potontlnfluenco. it gives tho invalid a new and stronger hold upon life, removes depression of spirits, and in spires cheerfuldess. It supplants the pain of disease with tho ease and comfort of perfect health. It gives strength to,weakness, throws despondency to the winds, and starts tho re stored Invalid upon a new and gladsome career. But Dr. Hoollaud’s benefactions to the human race are not confined to his celebrated GERMAN. BITTERS, ' • or his Invaluable Tonic, Ho lias prepared nn other medlclno, wolch Is rapidly-winning iui way to popular favor• because ol Us intrinsic merits. Tills Is HOOFLAND’S, PODOPHYLLIN PILLS, a perfect substitute for mercury, without auy.of mercury’s evil qualities. These wonderful Pills, which are intended to act upon the Liver, are maluly composed ot Podophylltb, or the , VITAL PRINCIPLE OF THE MANDRAKE ROOT. wo deslro tho render to distinctly nndct stand that this extract ol the Mandrake Is ninny times more powerful than the Mandrake Itself. It Is tho medicinal virtues of this health-giving plnntin a perfectly pure and highly concentra ted form. Hence it Isthnttwo of the I’odophyl- Jin Fills constitute,ft full dose, while anywhere six to eight or a handful of other proparnt one 'of the Mandrake are required. The Thodophyl llD ACTS DIRECTLY ON THE' LIVER, stimulating Its functions and causing It to make Its biliary secretions In regular and proper quantities. Tho injurious results which Invari ably follow tho use of mercury is entirely avoided by their use. Hut It Is not upon the Liver only that their, powers are exerted. Tho extract of MandraUoconlatned In them is skill fully combined with four other extracts, onool which acts upon the stomach, one upon the up nor bowels, one upon the lower bowels, and one prevents any griping ellect, thus producing a pill that Inllences tho digestive and alimentary sys tem, Ir an equal and harmonious roanno •, and Us action entirely free from nausea, vomiting or griping pains common to nil other purgatives. Possessing these much desirable qualities, the Podophylllh becomes InvaViablo ns a FAMILY ME CINE, Ko'household should ho' thoutlhem. They are perfectly safe, require 1. t two form) ordina ry dose, are prompt and ct dentin action, and when , used in connection with l)r. iioolland’s German’ Hitters, or Tonln, may ho regarded as certain spoclllcs In all cases of Liver Complaint, Dyspepsia, or any of t|ie disordois to which the system Is ordinarily subjec. Tho PODOPHYLLIN PILLS. net upon the stomach and bowels, carrying off Improper obstrucllons, while tbq Bitters or To nic purify the blood, strengthen and invigorate tbo Irame. give tone and appetite to the stom ach and thus build up (ho Invalid anew. Or. Hoofland, having provided internal reme dies for diseases, has given the world one malnj, ly for external application, in tbo wonderfu nreimro-tlou known as 11 Du. HOOKLAND’S,GREEK OIL. This Oil Is a sovereign remedy for poms and aches of all kinds. _ , nill Rheumatism, Neuralgia, Toothache, Chil blains, Sprains,. Burns, Pain in the .Rack and Loins, Ringworms, Ac., all yield to its external, application. The number ofeures effected by it Is astonishing and they ore increasing every d Taken Internally. It Is a cure for Heart-burns, Kidney Diseases, Sick Headaches, Colic, Dysen tery, Cholera Morbus, Cramps, Pams lu tho Btomacb, ColthvAslbma. Ac. Tho Greek Oil Is composed entirely of healing gums and essential oils, Iho principal engredl entisan oily substance,procu ed in the South ern part of Greece. Its effects ns a destroyer of Enin are truly magical. Thousands hayo been cnefllted byilsuso.nud a trlrl by those who aro skeptical will thoroughly convince them of Its inestimable value. These remedies will bo sent by express to any locality, upon application to the Principal Olllco, at the German Medicine Store, No. 031 Arch SUI. Philadelphia. I •tfa-Theso remedies are for sale by druggists, storekeepers, and medicine dealcrseveii where. Chas. M. Evans, Formerly 0. M. JAOKSON& CO. AROUND THE HEARTH. BY GEOUQE HOWLAND. Whatever be our earthly lot, Wherever wo may roam, * Still to our hearts the brightest spot Is round the hearth at home; Th 6 where wo recclvsd our birth, The hearth by which wo sat,' No other spot on all the earths Will over bo like that. ' WIiW win tot/cbhilhg’firitS'wr^ttn’"' - ' ’ Plied high tho drifting snow, Safe clustered round tho cheerful hearth Wo watched the firelight glow, Nor brighter seemed tho ruddy flames Than did our hearts, the while A loving mother breathed our names, With sweet approving smile, r When wearied with our eager chase Through many a tangled path, How sweet tho dear accustomed placo, To talk around tho hearth; And still, when by onv toll and car© We feel ourselves oppressed, Our thoughts forever cluster there, And thoro alono And rest. Bright promise of the rest above, Sweet shelter from the storm, Home hallowed by a raotbor’s love, Hearth by that love made warm; Though wildly roared the storm without What recked wo of the cold, What place for any fear or doubt, Within the loving fold? And when some little trouble weighed Uponlho childish heart, Till from our brimming eyes It made The gushing teat-drops start; How quick, before the gonial glow, We felt each sorrow cease, And back the crystal current flow, To flood our hearts with peace. And brighter with .the passing years Seems childhood’s sweet employ, And oven sweeter still appears Each well remembered Joy, Ai'ound tne cheerful hearth at homo, Where wo In childhood sat; No other spot where’er wo roam, Will ever be like that. Ipsdlanmrs. Theclook struck three; a punctual Fate, Polly, shovel in hand, flung wide the door open. For hours had that mystic laboratory been at work.uuseen of mortal eye, arid the fragrance compounded of spices, of sugar, of crusted loaf, of savory fowl, which now floated through and filed the kitchen, told the result. Far through the house , spread the delicious whiflf, and the stir and bustle overhead an nounced that some one there recognized' the signal, and knew that baking was done. In and out traveled the busy shovel till the Inner depth, where yet a red glow lingered, was reached, gave up Its last treasure, and Polly, making a fan of her apron, before the table to inspect the re sult. There they were ranged in order due, the I oaves brown and white, therolls, the crackling pork and beans, the 'lection cake,’ the difficult dainty, over whose pre carious fortunes she had watohed till mid night,the twoarid twenty pies,gold, brown and cranberry red, the toothsome mince and translucent apple, custard flecked with crimson, tarts open-mouthed and gaping for the friendly jam ; and in the midst, its.disk yellow earthen-ware tow ering above the rest, the huge chicken pie, to whose composition had gone such wealth of cream, of celery, of fatted pull lets, as is not often met with oulsido the limits of the Purcell farm. With some thing of the feelings of a general at the, head of his battalion, Polly reviewed her forces, noticing here and there a specially crisp edging, and in her own mind ap portioning this and that to uncle Nathan or Aunt Sapphira, and these to grace to morrow’s dinner; for 'to-morrow’ was New England’s special day—that ‘great day of the feast’—in behalf of which governors are wont to make proclama tion, and neighbors to vie in friendly zeal of housewifery and kind remem brance of those who have no portion of their own. ‘Yes,* said Polly, half aloud, ‘that will be beat for the Bulger children, I guess. The cruat is a little too brown, but they ‘wontrain'd that, and it’s so b|g; Then old Aunt Plgett shall have this; and that one I’ll send— ’ An approaching footstep cut short the soliloquy, and, blushing rosy red, she Caught up one special pie, and hurried It into the table drawer. Next moment her mother entered. ‘Well, Polly, done? 7 ‘Yea,’ mother. Come and look at them.’ They made a pleasant picture, that mother and daughter, as they stood side by side before the.long Ironing"table. Mrs. Purcell waa tall ami erect, the very model of a farmer's wife. Strong, sweet, with face unfrurowed by the wheels of that light team, Care and Worry, who drive'sp heavily over female good looks In our country; and smile, undimraed and bright, it was easy to vision forth the bpnny bride who, thirty years before, bad passed through that door on her wedding morning, to be from thenceforth the joy and comfort of all within. And beside her stood the. vision renewed In early youth, the same eyes of happy blue, tho same dimpled cheeks, the same ca pable bands; for Mrs. Purcell was a no ted housewife, and Polly Inherited tho gift in full measure. It was with a little heart beat that she now watched her mother's critical survey, and the nod with whichdt concluded. ’Pirst-rato, dear. I never saw better. And what a lot of them I Some are to send away I suppose ?’ *0 yes, indeed; it would take ua a month to, eat them all. See, mother, these are the ones I picked for ourselves —for to-morrow and Sunday you know. And the others are for different folks— old Katy and Uncle Nat, and the Bul gers and so on. Don’t you think I was lucky In my loaf cake?’ ‘lndeed you,were, and It's a trying cake, too. Suppose you frost a couple of the loaves for to-morrow evening, and put tho rest away in tho tin. You must be sure and wrap them up well. Did you ask anybody to come in the evening besides the Watsons and Jim? •No ma’am—that is—yes,' began Polly, flushing ami flustered. ‘I mean, I didn’t ask; but when Phil Ralston was here last summer he said he should drop in if he could, and I told him we’d be happy to see him. That was what I meant, moth er.’ ’O well,’ said Mrs. Purcell, too intent upon the pies to detect the weak points of this lucid explanation, ’that there was so long ago that very likely he’s forgot oil-ahout it. But Philip is always wei. 'come anyhow.’ Polly said nothing. In her secret soul she did not believe Phil had forgotten. How distinctly she remembered about that promise! All through the short vacation, so vaguely alluded to as ‘in the summer,’ they had been together, Phil and she, gardening at tho rate of a mig nonette seed to twenty minutes’ conver sation ; ‘botanizing’ (Heaven save the mark ! Polly hardly knew the dillerence between a pistil and a pistol).; dawding at tho gate under tho pink sunset till the moon shy and silvery above tho pink, and Mrs. Purcell's voice addressed them from an upper window upon tho subject of ‘damp,’ 'trapesing,' to use language of tho same authority, In wet grass of even- ings to search out glow-worms—all these and similar pursuits had made it a time of enchoutmetlt. Phil was an old play mate and neighbor nobody thought much of their being together, hut Polly thought a great deal. And tho last day of all, when she supposed him gone, lie had stolen oway half an hour before train Proprietor. Ipoctol POLLY’S PIES CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 31, 1871. time, and surprised her in the cool well room, her sleeves rolled up, her waist en veloped in a white apron, making pies— all unconscious of-his proximity. That Inst visit stood iu bold relief froiri qthers; for lingering there outside the window words had been half said, half' looked which she never could forget, though, at the time half’ frightened, she had pre tended not to understand them. And at last he took to teasing her about the pies, as she Jointly rolled the paste, and jag ged the narrow strips foredging.'Wouldn’t she make him one—all his own—at Thanksgiving time, for instance, for he was comifrg home then? O yes, he was sure dhe would,Jhougli gave no promise; ’lie'^should'come In"the eV.euThg Toni.— •And then the time came for him' to go.— And leaning through the window—Polly colored now as she thought of it —ho had softly kissed the little brown wrist and departed, his last words being, ‘lf you love me, Polly, don’t forget the pie. I am afraid it was too late for that ‘if.’ For, dreadful as it seems, the Pollys of real life do not always, wait, as the books say they should, until a decisive word has been spoken before yielding their hearts. Love c6mes t unsought, unseen as the sun coines, or the dew ; eyes ask, and looks ask. Prudence tugs feebly at the bolt, but her strength is weakness; open flies the door and Cupid takes pos session for bliss or bale. Which, in our Polly’s case it was to be, remains to be seen. She feared nothing,' poor child ! Phil loved her she was sure, and all the hopeful sky was bright with early dawn. ‘lf you love me.’ The words so lightly spoken hung around her like a song, as she drew from its hiding place Phil’s pie. Such a pie I Crisp as frosty foam white, except where heat had kiased.it into brown, with edge so trimly, so exactly cut, and middle adorned with a wondrous twirl of paste, embodying the initial ‘P.’ —a marvelous pie—a pie to make, the mouth water, and put an appetite under, . the riba of dyspepsia. Long and lovely did Polly gaze on this chef deeuvre belore committing it to the top-most shelf of the pantry,, and then, rapidly restoring all to Its pristine tidiness, she lied up stairs ; for there was a bat to bo trimmed, and, housekeeper though olio was, Polly was no less a girl—a girl of eighteen, and. what was more, the prettiest girl of eigh teen in Gohassel. • Something was due to this eminent position. . So, shut fntdHier room, she sat adjust ing the killing little feather on her new ‘lurban,’ turning now and then to survey the effect in a raorsal of looking glass, and by-and-by as the drifted gold began to gather round the sunset, a sound came on the wind—the distant shriek of a lo comotive. The train had arrived at the Junction, four miles away. Far above i the woods she could see the dim blue smoke, flown went the new hat, and a lovely smile parted her lips. Thatshriok meant Phil; and I question if Beethov en's finest sonata, could at that moment have seemed more musical—so true it-is that at times we listen with an inward ear to which nil sounds are melodious if they suggest the thing we love, Phil was come. The thought awoke -with her next morning, and lent its spring to the many small businesses which ushered iu the day. It was for him she rubbed the crimson apples till they shone, heaped the grape clusters so tastefully, and crowned the vases with, chrysanthemums and gay leaves. The candles she inserted in the tall, plated branches,should brighten the room when he entered, the noble hickory logsshould • warm, the polished andirons please v his eye. iShe lent her whole heart to the icing—Phil liked loaf cake. And if ever the spirit of Lady Mary Wort-ley’a sen timent was carried out —if ever a room ceased to bo a room, a dinner a dinner — it was now, when ’transmuted by tender alchemy, the old farm house took on higher meaning, and Mrs. Purcell’s nuts and apples became indeed ‘the refresh ments provided for a beloved one.’ All things in order at last, a merry party setoff forchurch. Father, mother, brother James, his wife and child—first installment .of the family gathering— and, iu the our Polly. The sun shone; crisp leaves rustled under foot; in all Cohasset was no blither face than that crowned by the - new turban, as our Httie maid look her seat in the gallery frdiil row as one of the village choir. How everything seemed to smile ! Who loved the world : she loved the Governor for arranging this delightful day—this day which made so many people happy— which brought Phil home It was early. The raelodeon was ploy ing a low droning voluntary—the green curtains were half drawn—plenty of chance for the choir to peep and. to whis per, a thing all choirs like to’clo. ‘I say, Polly, where did you get that feather?’ asked her neighbor. T_pnly wisli somebody would give me offer It’s just elegant.’ ‘Mother boughtit,’ said Polly, her eye on the door. 1 • ‘Who are you looking for ? Your ma? There she is now; What a good looking woman James’s .wife is, isn’t she ?’ ‘I suppose you’ve heard the news, Pol ly?’ broke in another whisper from be hind. ‘The news about Phil Ralston?’ ‘No. What do you mean?’ with sudden interest. ‘Ho came up last night, you know; and ft hat do you Ihink.h.o brought with him, but a wife ! Tim old folks didn’t know,a thing about, it. Wasn’t it a fine Thanks giving surprise ?’ ‘How did you hear?’ naked Polly, faint ly, With while lips. ‘Steve saw them—our Steve you know. He came in the same train, and there was Phil getting out with his wife, and the old ’Squire meeting them, and look ing ho surprised; and Phil,.said be, 'Father, I’ve got a new daughter to in troduce to you.’ And then some more in a low voice, which Steve couldn’t hear; and the’Squire he ’most cried, and he shook hands ami said, ‘You arc wel come, my dear.’ That was all Steve saw. for he had to come away ; but .Uncle Reuben' was up to the ’Squire’s in the evening, about a load of hay, and Phil’s wife came in, and the 'Squire introduced her: ‘My son’s wife,’ ho said, ‘and he. looked real pleased, for all he hadn’t been told beforehand. Gracious ! there they arel Look, Polly, just com ing in.’ For a moment nil' swam before Polly’s eyes. Then the mist cleared up again, and she saw’Squire Ralston’s whitehead passing up the aisle, followed by hia sis ter, a dear old woman who lived with him and kept hia house; then Phil, and. by his side a lady. With unnatural fire in her blue eyes she scanned the stranger, noting the clear olive cheek, the graceful undulating walk, the gait, which, even in her inexperienced vision, seemed something rich ami foreign.. That, then, was Phil’s wife, the woman he preferred to all others. And with a sudden powtr of hatred, Polly felt that she hated her.— All the sweet, even pulses of her nature seemed turned to bitterness and fire. ‘She looks old for Phil, doaen’t she?’ whispered thoother girl. • She did, but bow beautiful ? And still, ns the services went on, what a mockery it all seemed—the prayer in which she did not join, the sermon which spoke of people as thankful and happy ! She rose with the others, she bent her head, and all the time something dangled in her ears the one phrase, ‘Phil is married I Phil Is married I’ till it seemed as if she could not bear it. Long afterward, when she was happy again, that wretched morning would come back to her as vis ions of fever-to-returning health ;-lifctlo things she was unconscious of noticing, a late canker worm walking up Mary Jane Oak’s bonnet string; the scrap of newspaper left on Deacon Bunker’s face from uls morning shaving, and on which could bo plainly read, ‘Lost or Strayed,’ with the after clew of‘heifer’juafc below. Sho remembered the exact position In which Phil stood us he held the hymn book open for his—wife. Once, lie half turned and glanced at tho gallery. That was too much; Polly drew tight thegreou curtain oud looked no more. •You’ro palo to-day,’ whispered the friendly gossip in the rear, ‘or else your hat isn’t becoming.’ This roused her pride. Bad as it was to be miserable, it was worse to be pitied. She bit her'Hpa till, they were red, and (taking advantage of the last prayer 1 am sorry to say) inflicted upon her cheeks a series of furtive pinches, which restored their bloom. Coming down stairs with the rest, she was sure, Phil lin gering as if to speak, Cruel, insulting, she would not see! Leaning on James’s arm, laughing, chatting, all bloom and animation,she brushed past him. ‘Polly,’ ho half exclaimed, then paused. Backs are sometimes oxpressivoas faces.. Polly’s said ns distinctly ns back could, ’§if)eaTrtd*'fli'ia^' M T!liirToTs^ed , *after*tli«m-a moment; tflen suppressing a low whistle plunged his hands into his pockets and took the opposite direction. But soqq relenting, he was sorry to have done so. ‘She didn’t see rae,’ ho said to himself; ‘that was it. Well, I’ll go over this even ing, at all events, and find out what it menus. • Oh, what a miserable day It was! All Ihe little, carefully prepared forpleasures were ns so many goads and stings to poor PoTly. Tbe turkey choked, the children’s merriment stunned her. And there were all the relations to be seen—Aunt Elmira and Uncle Jacob, Cousin Jano and her family, and the new baby. But for all her heartache the little maid was true to herself. Only Mrs. Purcell, with a mother’s instinct, divined that some thing was the matter. To the rest I’olly was her usual self, prettier than usual, if anything, and gayer , with that deep flush on her cbeeks,.and the saucy tongue which, barbed with inward misery, had a smart answer ready for all and each. At last the long dinner ended, amidst praises loud and high. The lire was re plenished, the lamps lit, evening and a general romp set-in. Amidst the bustle Polly could slip away for a moment uu perceived. She has ‘found a thing to do,' as Mr. Browning says; . Climbing a chair in tbe dark pantry, she fell about. Yes, there It was. Just so she hat! meant to.come and lift it down for Phil. With tight set lips she carried the dish through the hall to the back door, where Jowler, a faithful beast of nondescript breed was wont to.lie bii a convenient door mat. ‘Jowler, Jowler —poor fellow,’ sho t said, ‘here’. 1 ' something for you,’ and she hold out to him Phil’s pie. . Never was a dog awakened by, dantior morstd. It was not a very heroic ven geance that* but somehow it suited-Pol ly’s feelings, and there' was a certain tragic quality in her manner as she stood looking on at the demolishment which would have strucic an uninterested spec tator os Infinitely comic. , As the last crumb vanished, however —the last twirl of the ‘P’—a different mood asserted it self. She put her head In childish fash ion against the door, and, with the empty pie-plate In her hand, began to cry—g. si lent, miserable cry ing, with a little dumb moan running through it'llke a child’s. It was just then that somebody passing up the walk came upon her —somebody who, In his haste bad come ‘cross cor ners” and leaped the garden- fence in his way. A tall, brown-haired fellow, with merry, kind eyes, in which wonderment shown as he.‘took in the astonishing spectacle. • ‘Hallo!’ he began ; why it’s—bless my soul! Polly ! Why, Polly—what is the matter, dear,?’ ‘ i • At the sound of the voice, Polly started, as if stung. She gave a little scream; then recollecting herself, would have dashed past him into the house, but a strong bund held her back, . ‘What is the meaning of this?’ said Phil. ‘You here, and crying on Thanks giving night—the night when we were going to be.so happy! Tell me what it is, Polly darling! Can’t I help you? Aren’t you glad to see me ?’ , ‘Philip Ralston” said Polly, too furious to weigh her words, ‘you ought to be ashamed of yourself.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Why? you ask me that? Because’— suddenly remembering what she implied —‘because you have no right to speak to me—to anybody—in that way any more, now that you are married.’ ‘Eh!’ ejaculated Philip; ‘and who says I am married?’ Polly, with dilating eyes, perused hia face. Shocould not apeak, . ,‘l’m not married,' went on Phil, who ever says bo.' ‘And T can’t imagine how such a'thing got about. And that you should’—ho stopped. ‘The lady in church,' gasped Polly. ‘Well! what about her?' said Phil, sharply, ‘That was Will’s wife—my brother Will, you know, or rather you don’t know, for you were a' littlo'girl when lie went to South America; It seems he ran away with n beauty and heiress, and tho letters they wrote never reached us; ami tho first thing I knew, there they were in New York, and poor Will miserably knocked up by the voy age, and a pistol-ball one of her relations sent after him. So I didn’t let father know, for fear of worrying him ; and when. Will got better, wo all came up to gether. That’s the story, Polly; but I did think you trusted me a little.’ ‘Oh/l did, I do ; and I was miserable, Phil.’- ‘So this was the enuso of Polly’s tears.’ went on leasing Phil, availing himself, maulike, of the opportunity ; ‘ and that was the reason she turned her buck this morning. Then Polly does care for mo a little—a very little?’ *A very little,' responded Polly, with a faint gleam of mischief from under her wet lashes. ‘Hnongh to put confidence in my word when I assure her that I shall now.never marry—never—unlesa-somebody T know, somebody who has proved very faithless, and hurt me not a little to day, should learn to believe mo, and to like me well enough’—squeezing’a little brown bam) as ho opoke—‘to take mo. for a husband herself? What do you say, dear?' for tho pretty rosy face had vanished into the sleeve of his coat, and for all ques tioning no answer could bo won but a 111 Mo, sweet, half gurgling, half sobbing, ‘Forgive me. Phil.’ ■ • Phil did not.prove.obdurate. Before long tho face came out of its hiding place, and, leaning on his arm, Polly stood for a happy moment J. o look at the rising moon,and taste theconaciousness of bliss. “Jowler” stretched himself luxuriantly, yawned, then leaping up, his paws on Polly’s shoulder, he gave one loud bark, of benediction, perhaps, or may bo self congratulation that this consummation, devoutly to be wished, did not happen sooner, to the detriment of his dinner. A moment,-then Phil drew Polly Into the shelter of tho warm and lighted room, and the door was shut. There Is another ‘young Mrs. Ralston’ now, whoso pastry is said by the good house, wives in tho neighborhood to ‘beat all, and whoso dainty ways aro very like our Polly’s; but she always assures her husband (whoso name is Phil,) that, if sho should Hvo half a century, she should uover, novor make, or he ever taste, a pie one-half so perfect as that which he for feited by coming ten minutes too lato ono Thanksgiving. And he says—But it is no matter what ho says. A Middling Cold Niantf.—Not long since a man walked into ono of tho three stores in a Western town, and Inquired of tho proprietor if he had any more of tho brandy like the last ho got there, and was told that ho had. ‘Well,’ continued the customer, who was from a mountain town, ‘I want to toll you about tho last plnT'you “sold” mb.”'l went" homo "that nightnnd hung tho bottle up by tho fire place. It was a middling cold night,and when I got up in tho morning, I found tho bottle had dropped on tho hearth and broke into a thousand pieces; but,’con tinued the mountaineer, with animation, ‘the. braudy was all right!—there h hung on tho nail, frozen sollder than thunder!’ A cynical lady, rather inclined to lllrt, says most mcu are like a cold—very, easy caught, but very difficult to got rid of. 80 DDES THE WORLD. Oar varied days pass on and on Our hopos'fado unfulfilled awny And things which seem, tho llfo of 1110, Are taken from us day by day; And yet through all the busy streets Tho crowd of Dleasuro-sockors throng, The puppet’s play tho showman’s call, And gossips chat the whole day long, , And so" tho world goes on. Our littlo dramas come to naught; Our Uvea may fall, our darling olau May crumble into nothingness, Our firmest castlo tall to stand; " And ybt tho children sing and dauco, Tho money-makers laugh and shout, • "Tlio Stars unmindful,'’sllTl sldno brigirt,'’' tfncensclous that our light Is out,’ And so tho world goes on. Tho house grows sad that once was gay, • Tho dear ones sojlc their Blessed Homo, And wo mny watch and wait In vain To hear their well-known footsteps come And yet tho sunlight cheeks tho floor, And makes tho summer shadows long, , Tho rose-buds at the ensomont bloom, Tho bird pours fort h his cheerful song, And so tho world goes on. And God goes on, and with our wop, Weaves golden threads of joy and peace, Guarding with His heart of hearts. Our days of ptilu, oiir days of cnsc— Ho marlcs tliem all—the seed, tho sheaves, ThO'danger’s smile, the mourner’s tears, And keeps them safe—His children all— , ‘Through nil the great eternal years, And so,.thanlc God, tho world goes on. HOW THE FOOL TRICKED THE HIGHWAYMAN. Never heard of Redmond O’Hanlan, the Irish highway robber? Well, that's surprising. The English Turpins and French Duvals couldn’t hold a candle- to the Irish highwayman. But for all his shrewdness he met his match once, and I'll tell you how it was. . Redmond was a fine, strapping, gen tlemanly fellow, and a devoted admirer of the ladies—ns where is the Irishman that notf—qud what is more, a friend to the*poor, as you'll admit when I tell you that his demands for cash were only made of those persons who could afford to meet them, and he delighted in forcing contributions from those who had the names of being hard landlords to their tenants. There was one of th is class whom Redmond never lost on opportunity of taxing—for that was the polite name he gave to his own robberies. Every quarter day, this gentleman or one of hia servants —sometimes more than one—was wont to make a journey of sIS or seven miles .to call for his’rents ; and as regular as clock work, there was Redmond O’Han inu, with some stout companions, to rob the collectorns he returned home. Every means was used to elude him, but to no purpose ; ho had spies everywhere, and tried to get the exact information which lie, wanted in advance. So one quarter day, when the gentleman’s servants asked 'him about going for the rents, he swore at O’Haulan, and said he did not see the use of collecting money to hand over to him. Now this gentleman had on his estate a boy called “Jerry tho Fool,’’ who had the run of the house, and made fun for the family. Ho had a great conceit of himself, and when he heard what the master said, he immediately asked to be allowed to go after the rents for once, and declared that he would know the way to, bring them safe home. Of course he was Only laughed,at; but when he repieaeuted that no harm could come from trying, as he couldn’t do worso than nil those who had gone.before him, the mastei agreed to humor him. Upon that, Jerry made some, preparations as were necessa.y, chose the worst horse in tho stable—an old horse, half blind, and throe quarters lame—and started on his enterprise.— Nothing occurred on the way. He col lected a considerable amount of money,' carefully disposed of It about his person, and started 'homewards. Towards tho eveuing, ns he was quietly jogging along -on the old back, and was just entering a long lane with high hedges on each aide, a tall, line-looking man rode up to. him on a handsome roan mare. ‘God save you my mau!’ snj's the gen lemnn* ‘God save your honor!’ replied Jerry. ‘What’s your name, my man?’ says the gentleman. ‘Jerry the Fool, and I'm not ashamed of it. What’s yours?’ Tho gentleman took no notice of this question. After awhile he says: ‘That’s a Hue animal, you are riding, Jerry.’ ‘Faith, and I’m glad your honor likes it,’ says-Jerry; ‘but it isn’t myself that’d care to tako a lease of hia life., But lie’ll servo my term anyway, for it’s not in much of a hurry lam traveling—l have only been to the village beyond to collect .tho master’s rents for him*’ ‘Surely he is not such.a fool as to trust you with that job?’ . ‘Arrah, why not?' asked Jerry. s-Why, don’t you knosv that Redmond O’lianlau’a on the road?’ ‘Redmond O’Hanlan, is it?’ says Jerry.. ‘Ugh ! That for Redmond O’Hunlan !’ says he, snapping his fingers. ‘ Faix, Jerry the Fool is a match for a dozen of the likes of him any day In the week, and Sunday in tho bargain.’ The stranger laughed, and they rode on in silence, till they came to a very lonely part of the road, when ho drew a brace of pistols, and told Jerry to hand over all the money he had about him, or he’d try if he had'any brains by sending a couple of bullets through his head. •Mela-murther!’ roared Jerry, in a tone of surprise and fright. ‘You don’t mean to say that your honor is Mr. Redmond O’Hanlan?' ‘I do, indeed. So hand over, my man, and look sharp about it.’, ‘But faix, its kilt intirely by tho master I’ll be if 1 go homo without the rents.' ‘What’s Mint to me?’ said O’Hanlau. ’ ‘Anyhow,’ says Jerry, ‘I must show them that I had a murdering fight for it.’ Perhaps your honor wouldn't mind firing a shot through my old beaver.’ O’Hun lun did so, laughing at the trick. • ‘And now another, through the breast -oAmy ooat, and Heaven will bless you. TlMs was done. ‘Now just ono in the skirt of it, and good luck to your honor.’ But I’vo discharged both of ipy pistols, and I don’t want the trouble of loading them again for you.’ ‘Falx I should dearly like a shot thro’ the skirts; it would show that I fought desperately. Are you sure your honor hasn't another pistol in your pocket that you wouldn't mind firing for a poor bpy’a sake?’ ‘Confound it! To be sure I am. Hand over your money, or I’ll beat you to a jolly with my horso-whlp.’ ‘Well,’ says Jerry, after a good deal of fumbling, .* I suppose, considering the trouble I’vo bad in collecting these rints, your honor won’t mind going , oyer tho hedge after them.’' And ho threw over a sack, apparently well filled with coin. Half laughipg and half angry, the highwayman—first aim ing a blow a Jerry with his whip, which he avoided by ducking—dismounted,and climbed over tho hedge* and no sooner had bo done so, than Jerry slipped ofF the old hack, and mounted O'Hunlan’s horse. , „ . •Bad scran to you, Redmond 9’Hnnlau, ho bawled. ‘Didn’t I toll you Jerry the Fool was a match for a dozen of you! It’s a sack of brass buttons you’ve gone ovor. tho. hedge after, you thief of ihq world!' And touching tho Hue mare with tho, spurs, he galloped off, singing at the top of Ills voice the nhb oldrHsh melodyV'Qo' to the devil and shako yourself!' O’Han lun could not pursue him ou tho hack, and thocuto fool had made him discharge his pistols. There was nothing for it but to walk away, cursing his owu stupidity, and ever after, if any one wanted to pro voke him, they had only to ask him when ho had last seen Jerry tho Fool. A little girl in Union county being asked, ‘Who was putlutothe lion's don? 1 replied ‘I don’t know, I dldu’t go to that circus,’ YOL. 58.—N0. 13. THE DIGGER INDIANS. Tho condition of the Digger Indian has been improved by the while occupation. Ho has more horse moat and more stale beef; he lives in framed cabins instead of wigwams ; bo carries a rifle or a shot gun in place of a bow and arrow?; »fhe bucks affect in dress a sort of. Mexica n nod Indian dandyism ; the squaws, in hoops and calico, approximate dimly to the fashion. In many cases his house is furnished w,ltUstove9» chairs and bedstead ; ho pays no taxes; society im poses on him no burdens or duties ; lie has-no legitimate business ; faithful squaw pans out a few bits per-day from tiie market with on immense funnel" shaped basket, full of abandoned beef and shin-bones, while he, unburdened» follows after; no infection of woman’s rights has yet reached this tribe. Occa sionally he murders a friend ; but the American law does not descend to his sphere, and looks on such transactions in the same light as when one mule kicks another to death. The largest settlement is near Jamestown, consisting of some twenty or thirty houses and‘wigwams in •an irregular huddle on a mound shaped elevation near theroad. Here, on a piazza in front of the town, during the hottest of the day, may be seen tho bare-headed squaws, sitting in semicircles,gossipping over tho last circus, A circus is the Dig ger’s chief glory. 'lt is for this he blesses the advent of the Americana. Before they came there were no circus, and far ess mule, horse meat and whiskey. He docks into’ the Fourth of July and other celebrations; ho luxuriates in them ; contributes nothing to the expenses; he has no idea what they Are intended for, neither does he seem to care; but the cream of their enjoyment is his. He Is unnoticed and uneared forbythesuperior race, laboring under no ban like the ne gro or Chinaman, ho ia the happiest, tho healthiest, freest, most independent man in America. His head, uncovered to the sun, bears a black mane thicker than that of a horse; he lives and lives, and be comes more and more shrivelled, and drier and drier; but still he lives, until a hundred, and a Hundred and ten, or an hundred and twenty, or a hundred and fifty ;no one knows how Jotig; for his uudoctored vitals are so tough and strong that they keep to their work until the Inst drop of blood Is fairly dried but of his m'umifled carcass— San Francisco Call, MARRIED WITHOUT KNOWING IT. A. Mr. Thomas Cooper, an Englishman , has published an uccouutof his tiavela in Thibet, which lie visited disguised as a Chinaman. Among hia atones ia the following: He waa just halting for breakfast, after leaving the Thibetan town of Buth ang, when a group of young girls, gayly dressed, and decked out with garlands of flowers, came out of the grove and sur rounded him, some of them holding his mule, while others assisted him to alight* Ho Was then led into a grove, where he found a feast prepared, and after ho had eaten, .and Smoked his pipe, the girls came up to him again, “pulling along in . their midst a pretty girl of sixteen, who was attired in a silk dress, aud adorned with garlands of flowers. 77 He adds,- “I bad already noticed this girl sitting apart from tho others during the meal, aud I was very much astonished when she was reluctantly dragged up to me, aud made to seat herself by my side; and ray aston ishment was considerably, heightened when tho reat-of the girls began to dance . round us in a circle, singing and throwing their garments around me and my com panion.” Tho meaning of- this singular performance was, however, made clear to Mr. Cooper. He had been married without knowing it. At first he tried to escape the liability entailed upon him; but such an outcry was made by all the people around that dm was-forced to carry off his bride; Ho managed to get rid, of her before very long, by transferring her to' one of her relations, but oven that was not treated as a dissolution of the mar riage. On his way back he was joined by a Thibetan dame, about thirty.years old, who said she had come to him with the consent of her husband, to supply her daughter’s place. We can well imagine- Mi’, Cooper's at meeting with this novel proposal on the part of his mother-in-law* A Mad Judge.—A judge in Western Pennsylvania went to-the river to bathe tho other morning, and while ho was pwimming about, some abandoned scoun drel slolo all his clothes, except his high hat and umbrella. Wo won’t try to tell .how-mad tho.judgo._was,.because,.nltho’ the English language his copious enough, its most ellicient and vigorous adjectives are entirely unequal to the expression of certain degrees of emotion. But he stayed in' tho water about four hours, experi menting with tiie different kinds of im precations, ami endeavoring to select two or three of the sturdiest objurgations for application to the thief. At last he came out, and after mounting the high hat, he opened the umbrella, and tried to cover his retreat up the street toward his own house. It appeared to the judge that all tho female pupils of the boarding schools ami one Woman’s Bights Convention, welo out promenading that dayjfnml tho judge had an awful lime going through the Zouave drill with tho umbrella.— When lie reached homo ho heard that the thief had been captured ; and tho judge is now engaged in writing out Ids charge to the jury in advance of the trial. Those .who have seen thorough draft say it is the most picturesque law paper ever drawn up in that county. ■ Tin? following story is told concerning the Koh-i-noor diamond captured in the jiiast,lndies:— I “TheKoh-i- noor was cap- tured in this cheap way : lu 18-11) that well known diamond became part of the spoil of tho Anglo Indian army, on tho conquest and annexation of tho Punjaub, and being then estimated at $1,250,000, there was great joy over such a prize.— Without at all conaultlngtho army, Lord Gough and Sir Charles Napier, who were in command, audaciously presented tho great diamond to Queen Victoria In the name of the combatants. It was not the general’s right to rob the army by be stowing the greatest of tho spoils of war upon tho-Queen, nor ought she to have accepted it without seeing that the poor soldiers had been paid for it. From that time the Indian army have not received a shilling for the capture of the diamond, and Victoria has retained tho gem as her own personal property, instead of placing It among the crown jewels belonging to the British nation.” Putty and Paint.—However much these two articles may be used to hide deficiencies and cover up faults by the dishonest tradesman, in the hands of the farmer they may bo made to do excellent service. Possibly the wagon, the plows and harrows, that have been in active employment during the summer, have hud their seams or cracks opened by the sun's heat. Now is the time to-stop those seams or cracks with putty and a, toucli of paint, before the full ruins soak in and commence to rot the wood. .Repeated swellhjg'nnd shrinking do serious injury to all "wooden implements, and now, that they are well shrunk, Is the time to look after them and prevent the swelling which will occur if damp or wot is al lowed to penetrate. Forks, shovels, axes, and all tools with wooden handles should bo rubbed with linseed oil while dry.— They will have their elasticity preserved and their .durability and appearance im proved thereby. The Davenport, lowa, printers seized a circus and menagerie the other day for not paying its bills, and now each editor is tlio happy owner of a Swino oupalas, or Giasticutus, or a Hippopota tiemiso, or an Alaskan Sea Lion. Vvhon subscribers rage and a man comes in and wants to know ‘who wrote,that article,” the editor unchains his mena gerie, and the insulted fellow lias a sudden call to “ sco a man” elsewhere. Hates for ADvrcnnsKancNTs win bb inserted at Ton Cent, per lino for the flrat Insertion, and five cents perllnofdreach subsequent Insertion, Quar terly half-yearly, nndyoorly advertisements In orted at a liberal reduction on tbo above rates Advertisements should bo accompanied by tho Cash. YVnon sent without any length, ol time specified forpuhllcatlon. they will bo continued until ordered out and ornnged accordingly. JOB PRINTING. (JARds, Handbills; Circulars, and overyoJlt cr description of Job.and Card Printing,’ Mary Cary says that if husbands generally knew what their wives thought of them, suicide would be a more common occurrence. Medicae authority says sunstroke may be avoided by carrying- certain things in the hat. Almost auythingdpmp will do; but it should never, be a brick. An Illinois wedding recently had to bo postponed because tho groom did not ap pear. The weeping bride is said to have touchingly remarked,. ‘Ho always was — r Tiie cat that serenaded a.literary lady the other night has not been able out since; dud the lady is minus one.boot, one flower pot, a patent inkstand and a new chignon. ‘Boy,’ said an ill-tempered old fellow to a noisy lad, ‘what are you hollerin’ for when lam going by?’ ‘Humph,’ return ed the boy, what are.yoU . going by for when I am hollerin’ V An old lady in Georgia who saw a lo comotive for the flrat time recently, look ed at it curiously for a while, and then, as it came pulling along, inquired anx iously what ‘pushed the darned thing along?’ *1 say, Jbnes, that’s a shocking bad hat of yours. Why do you ,wear such a hideous thing?’ ‘Because, my dear fel low, Mrs. Jones declares she will not go out of the house with nib till I get a bet ter one.’ When a man is unable to tell the time by his watch,. because; there are two hands, aiid ho doesn’t know ‘which to believe,’ it is a tolerably sure sign that he has partaken of more refreshments than his nature requires.: in. A BAL3IY fellow bragging that lie could carry a barrel of pork without difli cully, was suddenly puttd his trumps when toki that ho was frequently seen staggering under a load of. less than.T7s pounds of corned meat. ‘You are very stupid, Thomas, 7 said h country teacher to a little boy.eight years old. ‘You are a little donkey; aud what do they do to cure them of stupidity ?'— ‘They feed them-better and kick them Jess,’ said the arch little urchin. In a spire’s office, the other day, an attorney was examining a surety touch iug hlsqualiflcationa as bondsman. 4 You have property you say?’ ‘Yea, 7 /‘Hid your wife bring you anything? 7 ‘Yes. 7 ‘What? 7 ‘Three children, sir. 7 Where was X, ma, 7 said a little urchin to his mother, as ho stood gazing at his drunken aud prostrate father,—''where was I when you.married pa? Why dql you not take me along? I. could have picked out a better man than he-la. 7 . A Methodist conference in lowa, de cided the other day ‘that the movement now being made to enfranchise women is both wise and just, the genius of our government, the rights of woman, and the good of society, alike requiring It. . Is it wrong for me to use rouge ? 7 asked a homely spinster of her clergyman*— ‘What do you usd it for?’ ‘To—to—make roe handsome. 7 ‘Well, madam, I guess it will do no harm for you to use rouge, for you are homely enough even with it. A man in Danbury, Coua., uses whis key to, destroy the worais on hia currant bushes. The theory is that the worm becomes drunk, gets to fooling around, aud finally falls oil* and either breaks its neck outright, or cripples itself so that life becomes a burden, . , The writer of an obituary notice of an estimable lady says that tho bereaved husband was ‘hnrdiy able, to bear the do-, raise of his wife. 7 Imagine hia disgust on reading ia print that the bereaved husband was ‘hardly able to wear tho chemise of his wife. 7 A loving father in Missouri sent his daughter to a seminary to be educated, and when she returned, accompanied by a city lover, and sat down to the piano, tho old man astonished the lover by say ing she ‘could everlastingly paw ivory ami howl.’ Tho young man fainted away. A contemporary prints this item: “ ‘A Chicago man presented his wife with a block of wood as a token of admiration.— .She received it on-tho fore-head, and was so overcome with gratitude that 'She, fainted 'away. - The generous husband has also given twenty-five dollars to the police justice.’ A school teacher. oske.d a now hoy ‘who made the glorlus universe ?’ but the boy couldn’t tell ; so the teacher got a rawhide and told the boy if he did not tell he would whip him. The boy looked at tho whip ailil snivelled out, ‘Please, sir, I did; but I won’t do it again! ; ‘ . Mrs. TI., a young mother, was exhib iting with considerable pride to a'uum ber of admiring friends her first baby.— Finally approaching little. Dan, a boy.of five years, the happy pareutsald, ‘Dan is not,this a dear little baby ?’ Dim.hesita* luted a moment, .turned up his eyes, and answered, *Yes, but it’s bald-headed.’ , Tun Rochester Democrat is slightly sarcasticon a railroad line in thatviclmty. It says that a-gentleman took a train a few days since, on what is termed ‘lhe huckleberry road, running,between Avon and 'Mount Morris. Alter,the train started from Avon-he discovered that ho iiad lott a valuable dog behind, blit on arriv ing at Mount Morris tho lost dog.was found sitting at the station awaiting tho arrival of his master, ‘ Recently, In one of tho North Caro lina courts, tho grand jury, as is now usually, the case, was composed partly of negroes. After being ‘charged 1 iri the usual way by his honor, the, jury re tired to their room, when one of tho white jurors ventured to ask a colored associate if ho understood the charge of the judge. ‘Golly,’ exclaimed the aston ished amendment, *ho don’t charge us ntiflln for dat, does ho? X thought we was gwino to get pay,’ A Habtfobd man was taken sick a few days ago. His physician said It was a case of measles, and gave him medicine. The next day, dlasatlslied, he sent for doctor number two. He said it was ty phoid fever, and he gave him medicine. The third day, still discontented, ho called doctor number three. Ho seuthim to the hospital, declaring it was a case of small pox. In three days ho was out, hunting for a lawyer who would bring suit for damages against somebody, be-' cause it was only au'attack of erysipelas. How to Quabbeu with a Wife. — Wait until she is at her toilet preparatory to going out. She will bo sure to ask you if her bonnet Is straight. Remark that the lives of nine-tenths of. the women are passed in thinking whether their bonnets are straight, and .wind up with the re mark that you never know but one who had common sense about her. Wife will ask who that one is. You, with a sigh, reply; ‘Ah! never mind.’ Wife will ask you why you did not marry her.— You say, abstractedly : ‘Ah 1 why, in deed?’ The climax Is reached by this time, and a regular row is sure to follow. Love that is Reautipul and Most "Babe To T*T.vd.-jAlady recently called upon an old man who had just lost his wife, with whom ho had lived for forty years. She found him sitting with folded hands in bis lonely room, and while en gaged in conversation her eyes rested up on something bright and soft which lay on his pillow. With atremor in his voice bo said: ‘Ah, madame. it Is only my dear wife’s old wrapper. You may think me childish, but at night X put the sleeves around.my ueok, and it comforts me.— Cdiild human love find a more affecting expression ?