s|)( American Volunteer.
pnuUSHBD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
•, by ' •
ORATTON jdt KKNPifjEDY•
orricE~«ot:TH marhkt sqijabe.
■ rtWi-Two Dollars per year if paid atrioUj
'« advance; +wo Dollars and fifty Cents If paid
fuhln thre# moiltltfs after which Three Dollars
*1! be charged. These lento will be rigidly ad
!r«d to in every instance. . No snbsorlpUon dfe*
cflntmu*d tintll all arrearages are .aald, anlesi- a
t b# nptldti bftrifc Editors: r i
fottial.
THEWHIP-PO-WIU
BY PBOF. C. W. BOWBK.
One raoon-llght.eve, when all was still,
I musing sat Mslde a rill,. • '.(
Thul murro nrlng, leaped its rooky bed
As if with ooeWu wave to we<k
Above roe,penciled on the sky,
A craggy green oak met my eye,
While all around the soft shade fell ■'
On sparkling xUI and grassy dolh
While musing thus a whlp..po-wll,
In whistling accents lodd and shrill,
Announced Its presence In the tree.
And rodried jne from my reverie.
Why sldgest tbon this cruel strain ?
What’s Wt)lie done? 1 asked In vain;
Till by iny side; in scaly zones!
Colled np, ainaake; In hissing tones.
Replied: the Reason shall I tell,-.
While you lie here in grassy dell 7
With wonder In my bosom pent,
Forthwith X nodded my assent.
Many a one has gone to rest,
Since Willie came to woo;
A dark-eyed maiden of the West,
Enoln fair and true.’
Like on nrrow snot from a well Strang how.
So straight and fleet was sho,
Aa timid aa the startled too j r
Hot form ali aymqtry.
Within ail arbored, vine-crept bower,
Where straggling moon-beams ’peered,
They raotand lovcd'thd self-same hour,
No feat or doubt appeared.
Blit one there was within whoso heart,
If heart such^Villain hod, • -
The a Green-eyed Monster” piled hla art,
He spied the maid and lad.
Not life’s tigress, thatjdeleuda
Her young from hunter hold,
Nor yetthn onb-robbed hear, that ends
In doith’s hng young and old;
More libe a gaunt,and sneaking wolf,
The Jackal of the prairie; •
Or else, the vulture of the gulf,
Bwlft flying Irom his eyrie;
■(
Thus sprang he In with knotty rod,.
Where Cupid reigned supreme,
A r d amble poor Willie to the sod,
Out short bis life and dream I
Enolacfled "why whippoorwill?
Thou flend In hitman shape I
I*ll curse the with a crooked bill.
Thy food the sour grape;
May Bleep ne’er be tby lot by night.
• But perched upon a tree.
Thou’ltory whlp-po-wil till the light
Of mom shall banger thee f* .
" EnoW ceaae thy threatenlngs vain I”
Burst from her flendish foe,
"I'llsend thee wlth thy lover slain, •
Unless; thoo’lt with me go.*!
Then suddenly her arm,
Unconscious, of her power,
Which,in a moment, changed bis form,
And-drove him from her bower. .
•Tls said, o’er Willie’s grave la heard
<Enola*s grave beside.)
The whlp-pO’Wll, sad-omened bird!
At every even-tide. ■
Thus hissed the snake, when whlp-po-wll
ShrleßK d forth a cry more doleful still;
Thought I,,the aerpenliied to Eve,..
He’s lied too oft; can J bel leve ?
IpOTIkItCDH!!.
THE JAR OF SOAP.
liy doctor advised horße'exeroiae; and
as I hove the greatest respect for medi
cal opinions which coincide with my
own 'tastes, I entered a livery stable the
morning after my arrival at the watering
place to which he had likewise recom
mended me. The sprucest of proprietors
came forward to receive my order—a
oiean-sh’aved man, -, with mutton-chop
whiskers, a stiff shirt collar, a blue stock
studded with spots and fastened by
a horse-slide pin, a glossy cutaway, coat,
brass buttoned, massive watch guard.
trousers ; fltling like drawers, clean dog
skin gloves—well to do and horsey all
over.
'Take yourchoice, sir,’ be said, leading
the way to the stables. ‘Wo have sever
al in. Now, If you like an animal that
you can feel with the bit, I recommend'
this grey. Oh, ha’s a willing one, he is
—does not want the whip, he don,t.’
•I suppose you mean that be has’a
mouth of iron, and a jaw like a vice, and
will pull my arms out of their sockets.—
No, thank you.’
‘Well, there’s the chestnut mare--she
is a teal clever'one; Touch her with'
hour right heel, and she will go sideways
all along the cliff.’
•Much obliged,’ said I; but it is a
horse I Want, not a crab.’
■ ‘Exactly, sir; but, you see, there are
gents who like a horse which will do that
—lt makes the nursery girls and such
like stand and stare, and think what
fine riders they are. This bay will.suit
yon host, I see. When shall I send him
round?’
' At two o’clock, to 12 Ocean Terrace,’
'He shall be there. Much obllgedto
you for your custom, ! Mr. Penyolin.’
‘Hal’ cried I stopping and looking in
his face when he mentioned my name.—
'Why, surely, it is not Joe?’
' Yes, sir,, the very same;, formerly
groom in Graves’ livery stables, at Cam
brldge. I nope I see you well, sir.’
iThank_yon._l._am glad .to seo_._you.
have risen in the world since the old
days. Have you been here long ?’
'About five years, slri And very nice
ly! am doing.’
'Some one* jeft you i a little capital, I
presume.’ ■
'No, sir; jnst.tbe contrary. I owe my
rise In life td being robbed of ail I peaces
ed.’
‘Hal* crledl,"smelling a magazine ar
ticle, ‘that sounds curious—how was it?’
•Weil, sir, It is a long story, and I have'
some business to attend to Just now-’
Howeverj I got Mr. Joseph Snaffle, to
my lodging next evening, and heard the
following ■
Six years ago, come Michaelmas tide,
Ur, Graves died, and his establishment
’was sold jwhereby. I found myself for the
momentj without a‘piaoe. So, .as Ihad
a cousin .1 in I Sill i Man ’s .twining
at Newmarket 1 , with wlioral tfcffaltfays
been on the . beat of terms, I thought I
would look,him, up and see if lie could
get me suited; for (heyhave plenty'to do
in those- large raplng 'atables, and there
are constant vacancies. .The worst of It'
was I could not pull myself down to ride
less than ten .stone; but still there woa
no barm In trying whether they would
take mo Ihisomaoapaclty, or recommend
me, perhaps'do some‘Ol the gentlemen
Who had horses there,. Bo I.ehouti'n ed
my handle;- and started off along the
Kewmarkstt road,f. with two sovereigns
and Of teen shillings In silver in my
breeohestppßketv andi not another rap in
the world,.,.Vj
At I west' through Barnwell,« sun-
Ihe Amertffln Do I trotter
BY BRATTON & KENNEDY.
Joined mb who said he was going to
N-wmarket' too,; aj'.d proposed that We
mild walk together; and; pa I was
always of d sociable, turn, I made no oh-
jeotlon. He proved'to be an agreeable
companion enough ‘-knew the good and
bad points of a horse, and seemed to bo a
sensiblesort of a fellow, at the very fir St.
And aftei* a bit, when he grew more fa*
miliar, be said he was a (out; and told
me many, stories of I tbe tricks be bad
been up to to get information. Of course,
then, it was only natural .that I should
Oder him half a' pinfof beer wh<-n we
came tea public bouse on the road. He
accepted it, and we went Jn. One hair
pint'drew another, and that a third, as
beer will'sometimes, whe.n it is good;
not that I am fond of drink as a rule—
ask the misses—but there are times whet*
a mnn is not quite himself; and leaving
a place where I bad been d goodlsb num
her of years, to find myqolf etid(ienlyal’
uncertain what to do next; together with
being my own master and not having
any work to - attend to, all gave a sort of
■•ur-for-a-liollday feeling, and I did nnt
care if X had a spree for otioe; So when
we left that public house, l ilust«red and
that was the truth of it. Now, the worst
taking a drop too much, and what prin
cipally makes me dread It, Is that one
wants to go on and have more still; and
when we bad walked some four or,
five miles further, that thirst came on
stroijg.
‘lsn’t there another househear’here?*
I asked. ' . .. „ .’ , ,
. ‘Come to mine,’Replied my companion.
‘I have got a qoietllttie public of iny own
a little way off to.the right, not.mucli
further on; and lebould have to leave
you when we came to the turning.. JBui
whypot sleep‘at my place? It will be
dark before you get Into Newmarket.—
I’ll warrant you will bejust as comforta
ble as In any house in the town. Fllgive
you the best of liquor and u good bed, ami
you can walk into Newmarket, which is
not aboye four miles over the Heath, the
first thing in the morning.’
We muethave been hours ip that way
side ino, for what he said about plghl
coming.on was to do as be said; and in
stead of parting at the crossroads,' I turn
ed up with him, and half an, hour's walk
brought us to his bouse. It <1 id not seem
much of a place) and the situation was
very lonely.
‘Yon don’t do a thundering business,
mate, T'expect?' sajd I.
‘No,’ Ue replied, ‘ami Idon’t want to.
f have my regular customers, and go in
for snugness.’
‘Oh; I see, horse watchers and that.’
‘That’s it; and I have had a fighting
man in training here before now—twig?’
* ‘Aye, you are not over-anxious to at
tract the notice of the police, eh?’
•That’s about It.’ he replied. ,
The! only person in the grotlml-floor
room of the collage, for. It was nothing
more, was a slattern, who at once drew
us a pot of beer; but, after a tilt, steps
were heard on the rick el ty et droase, and
then a couple of men, who were yawning
and stretching, made their appearance,
ft was not' a taking one in either, case;
but I did not think much of that at.flrst,
for : : ho man" looks his best when he has
been sleeping with his clothes, on, and
rouses out with never a touch of dan p
towel or oorab. However, when another
Oime In at the door, with short cropped
hair, broken nose, bull-terrier -jaw, but
without that good-tempered look which
a pugilist often has, I began to suspect
that I,; hod got, into bad comp my; lor
the b.eer Ihad drank did not prevent my
notieitig snd reflecting, though it mode
my head heavy and my throat husky.—
If I had been a gentleman, with a gold:
watch and a pocket lull of money, I
should probably have taken alarm, ma<'e
some excuse to go-.outside, and given
them the slip; but as it was not likely
that they would harm a poor stableman
out of employment, I did not ranch mind
heln In their society one evening, what
ever they wight be, and joiged the gen
eral talk In a friendly, unsuspecting
manner.
The slattern fried some eggs and bacon,
and we all had supper together ; after
which the landlord brought a stone jar
■of gin out of a cupboard—for I expect he
had no special license; and when I had:
puts glass or two of grog on the top of
the beer, I forgot the bad Impression ray
companions had at first made'upon me,
arid vdted the landlord—who sangisongs
as well as he told stories—one of,the beat
fellows alive. • . ,
A fter awhile a discussion arose—l have,
no notion what about In the first Instance,
lint somehow or another I - fancied that
my ability to pay for the liquor was call
ed into question ; and to prove it I show
ed iqy two sovereigns and silver; direct
ly alter which I remembered ray suspi
cions, and called myself ,a’ fool—not out
loud of course, but inwardly.
'Now,' said I tomyself, if they are the
men'! take them for, they will propose,
some game presently ; for they will not
be easy till they have pouched the two
bits of gold I was ass enough to show
them.l ~
. Weil, sure enough, after a little talk
about something quite different, one of,
them pulled out a pack of cards, and pro
posed; that we should play. But'l was
not to bo caught that way. Affected
pretty considerably as I was by the
liquor I had swallowed, Ipretended to he
still more so, and swore: thickly that t
was too early to begin to play Cards—we
must have another aong; and. so began
singing myself at the top of my voice.—
After which I fell forward on the ,table,
.With my face on my arms; and .when
they roused me up I declared 1 felt ill,
and would, go .to ; bed. I stuck to. that
resolution, say what they might ;: got a
candle end from, the slattern nniTwenl
up.,stairs, stumbling a good deal more
than I need have done.
1 .Uy bed room had not n'temptlnglnok
to-any one who was squeamish, being l
neither clean nor tidy and, tho lrunkle
lied had notj been 'made nines some one
had laid down upon It, so that; the patoh
.work counterpane was all tumbled and
errand- However, I* was not sober
enough to be partiou'ar. The walls of
,the room seemed spinning around in a
most uncomfortable manner, and half a
dozen water mills appeared to be at worn
inside my bead ; so I undressed, turned
iu as fast os I could, presently went
offsqund.
How long I slept I do not know, nor
yet why I woke up as I did—with a
splitting headache, Indeed., hut quite oo
ber. At Bret X did not know where I
, WM; hut gradually the events of the day
dime back to my memory, and I wonder
ed how l could have made such a foul of
myself os to get drinking with a set of
vagabonds t knew nothing of except
from their ownjShoyvlng, and;,that did
■ not lnalie tbem out very respectable.’ I
listened to" hear .'whether they: were still
keeping it up; but ail .was quite still, and'
then t prepared,tq turn-out, for it was so
light d’ qbjebtaj jin;,the. {room
omiltl ibe 'easily' ‘distinguished’. But it
proveil to be moonlight, and not’day
breakj So, after taking a (; pull at the
toy mouth and throat
were like a limo-klln-I got into bed
again; and settled myself .for another
nap. ] 1
Just as I was dropping off, however, !
heard .the doorifnovo ; and opening my
eves, saw the figure of a man come heal
thily Into the room, i The tbonght .im
mediately occurred to roe that he was af.
ter those two sovereigns I had soatilph
ly displayed; and that, if I Jumped up
and asked what.be wanted, I might very
likely get the worst of it. So I lay quite
still, watching him ont'of the corner of
one eye, anil when he stopped to listen,
I snored. That reassured him, and h
crept op to the bed, took my trousers
which |n'y on the.foot of it,and felt in.
the packets, I beard my poor two bits
of gold chink as be took them out, and
nearly groaned.
‘Nevermind,’ said I to myself, I’ll
have the police dowu uoon this house
10-morrdw, as sure as eggs is eggs; sp you
may make bflTtinietly now my man.
To my surprise, however, instead of
coing out at once, now he bad got what
be wanted, the owner of the house- for
I had recognized him—went toward the
wasbstand and put his hand up to a small
white Jar which siood 'on a shelf Just
above it. . Then he stole softly out of the
room, and closed the door behind him.
I lay quiet for a matter of b&lf an hom
nr more; and then searched my trousers.
The sovereigns were gone, sure enough ;
.but the silver was left;•■•There was not
much, indeed, for I.had paid my score
over night, and had \ stood treat af the,
wayside public bouse besides. Next I
went to have a . look at the jar on the
shelf, anti found that it was full of sofi
snap. Hvidentiy, my host was not So
boldna mgue as I-had thought for; and if
Iliad shown myselftobeawakebewould
probably have made an excuse, and lei
me go off with my money, since he' was
,so careful to-'provide against my suspi
cions- For 1 suppose his idea was- this :
If I took-the matter pretty easy, con
■enf to believe Hint I had lost ray money
somehow, and that he knew, untiling of
it, well and gor>jj. If t made more fuss
he would invite me to have a search, ai d
ijflefy me to find any gold in the house—
fi r be bud ..owned to being very low in
the pocket just then; but if I proved out
rageous, and threatened the law, 1 he
>would have conveniently discovered the
sovereigns in the Jar of soft soap, and de
olured I' musthave put them there for
security over night, and had been too
drunk to remember anything about it
in the morning. l .
Thaf was the way - I Interpreted the
matter. So I, determined just to take
my money back, walk off, and say noth
ing about'lt;. not being particularly anx
ious to have to stand in a witness-box;
and own that I bad been in suoff bad
company—for that would not have help
ed me to a great situation, would it?
It was now fast getting broad day, so I
washed arid dressed myself, and before I
had done,! heard people stirring in the
h’nuse.l Then I took the jar and tried to
fish my sovereigns out, but they were
stuck far down in (he nnsty stuff, and as
steps came towards my door before I bad
got them, I wrapped the whole thing up
in myih'aunkerohief, and stuck It iu my
pocket. Then I went down stairs, bade
the slattern, who was the orily person I
saw, good morning, and left the house ;
and precious glad I was to get away from
if ‘ ' ' '
After walking about three miles as
hard as I could put foot to the ground, I
came to the place for turniqg off the bye
road I was in on the Heath, and close
by there was a bit of a pond, which, it
occurred to me, was haudy for cleans
ing my sovereigns. So I out with the
little iar, and squatting down ,at the
edge of the water, I proceeded carefully
to wash, it. I got hold of one sovereign
quickly enough, and put it
in myipooket ; but the second had been
pushed deeper down, and while flailing
about with my Huger, X came upon
some other hard substance, which prov
ed when extracted land washed, to be a
diamond ring, and. a rare, large, spark
ling diamontt .it was too. After that I
need not tell yoq that I seardhed the
jar thoroughly, rubbing every bit if the
stuff In it carefuly between ray hands;
and, besides my other sovereign. I found
a pretty, bright-colored stone, which I
learned afterwards, was a valuable sap
phire, and that was ail.
Then I went on, add before I had got
far I met a string of horses out for exe •
oise, and accompanying them on a pony
-was-my-cousiiirWho-expreßScd-himself
glad to see me, and asked me to go home
and have a bit of breakfast with him;
which I did, and during the meal X told
him what I wanted, and be said that he
feared I could not be employed in their
stables just thehi but chat .he would make
inquiries, and do his best for me. After
that I informed bind of what had hap
pened the night before, and showed him
ihe jewels.
■By the Lord, Harry I', cried he, quite
excited. ‘I should not wonder if this
was part of the great Bedford robbery I’
•What is that?’ I asked,
‘Have you, not seen it in the papers <
he replied, ‘Lord Glitterbrlght’s house
was broken .into last month, and her
ladyship's jewel-box stolen. We will go
and ahow these things to the Inspector,
who is a friend of mine, presently, for il
Tain right, it may beagood job for you,
Joe.. Look here ![ •
And be...fetched a newspaper, and
showed mean advertisement of alius
d e l .pounds reward for any person giv
ing such information as should lead to
- tile apprehension of, the th eves.
: ‘lt lias nothing to do wth my ring,'
said I, ‘I have no such luck.’
•Most likely you are right,’ replied my
cousin; ‘but there’s no harm in trying,’
Bo I went to the Inspector, who bad a
printed detail of all the articles atoieh,
and the rlngaeeraed to answer to one ol
them. Bo 1 went that very afternoon in
company with.' a detective to Bedford,
and saw Lady Glltlerbrlght, who Identi
fied both the ring and tbs loose sapphire
CARLISLE, PA., THDRSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1872;
which it seemed'had formed part of the
■necklace. Then, certainly, my bean
gave a Jump; but it was a good step yet
to finding out who actually did the bur
glary,: and touching the reward. My
keeper of the pot-house, was taken uu
and bis premises.searched, but nothing
more .was found. However,*’When 'he.
.was, like la bo tried for the burglary
himself, be put the police On the track
of the men who refill,done;lt,{in ;.sel f
defenqe, for It; turned put that bis part
bad been confined to concealing the real
culprits and providing them-’with 1 . dis
guises, and for that ho.had received; the
' rlngand sapphire, which hob ad concealed
Ip that soft soap, as the least likely .place
to be examined in ease of a search. Fbom
his information the burg'ara were tracked
and caught, and the most valuable Jewels
all recovered.
■ ‘Well,’ as the police seemed to do
everything, the newspapers gave, them
all the credit, I fearqd .that I ahoiild.be
overlooked altogether. But, no; I got the
full hundred pounds, end a present from
my lady besides—which, 1 most say, wan
handsome. And when I got. this large
sum of money—as it waa to me then—l
began to think that, Instead of remain
ing man all my life, I should like to be
master, and as I was well qualified to
manage a livery stable- I having done
everything for old Graves during the
lust years of his life—l looked about for
au opening, and. through a friend of my
cousin’s, heard of this place. Of course,
I could not start In business to do any
good with a hundred pounds; but a sport
ing lawyer in , Cambridge, who had
known mo mftiy.years, and believed In
my success, lent me what was needful
at a friendly five per cent Well, eir, I
was pretty lucky—l may, soy very lucky
—for I began in:a small way, and at the
end of a couple of years I was So well es
tablished that a farmer gave me his
daughter, nod five hundred pounds down
with her, and allowed the money to be
put Into the business, too. .1 paid off
the last of the loan to the - lawyer six
months ago, and at the present moment
I don’t owe any man a penny—of course
barring the current account with my
corn merchant.
MAB'S MEW YEAR'S RUSE.
BY HARRIET N. HATHAWAYi
‘Mab, cousin Mab, in . the name of
wonder, what are you doing In that hor
rid poke bonnet ?’
Mab Darrell turned towards her oous-,
in, Nelly Worth, with a demure smile
upon her pleasant, girlish face, and said,
as she tied the ‘poke’ under her plump
little chin :
‘l’m going to study human nature in
lisgulse ; and I could-not find a better
line than this evening: before the New
Year.’
'But you must not go alone, and then
in this strange rig ; I never saw such a
creature—so full of freaks '.’
‘That I’m full of freaks I don’t deny,
Nelly,’ replied Mab, as she shook out the
folds 1 of a rusty black woolen shawl, and
threw It about her, adding, ‘as to being
afraid'to go out alone, don’t you see this
rig 1 will save me ns readily from being
molested, as would a half dozen picked
policemen.’
' ‘But supposing you should meet any
our friends- —what would they think? 1
- ‘Don’t fret your little head, darling,
but tie on this long, black veil; there,
now, in this draggling dress and shawl,
and this black poke bonne* and rusty
mourning veil, who’ll ever euess it's Mab
Darrell?’ You wouldn’t know me your
self, were you to meet me on Washing;
ton street in broad daylight, Nell, dear.’
‘That’s true—oh. dear, what a creature
you are I your hair plastered down to
your face, and that droll bob banging
from under the cape of your old poke !
I 'a well mo’her didn’t come In find and
you so ; she’d have put a' stop to your
wild freak-’
‘Likely ;"but please say nothing about
it to-morrow, when it’s oyer, I’ll tell
her ail about it But I rausn’t stay to
talk.’ And. then Mab Darrell danced
across the chamber and Into the bail,
followed by her cousin Nell, turning to
say, as she paused on the lower door
step : ‘Here goes the widow bewitch
ed I’
‘Widow“bpwltohed,’ sure enough, Nell
repeated to herself, ‘and yet, there’s
usually, as papa says, a method in her
madness, so I presume there is now.—
Her wise little head haS some plan in it,
and—oh, well, there Is nothing but. for
me to be patient until her return ; .then
I shall have the whole in a nut shell, as
brother ■ somebody tells for; so I’ll run
up stairs aud get my dress ready for to
morrow. I shall want to look'nicd, for
we shall have hosts of New Year's call
ers.' Aud so Nelly closed the street door
aud went up to her chamber.
Mab was no sooner at a~Bafe distance
from the house than she assumed a.llmp
ing gate, like one with hip disease,
which she kept up until it brought her
upon-Washlngton_street. Mixlng_wlth_
the eager, hurrying crowd, she soon,
found herself rudely jostled hither and
thither, and, when she chanced to be re
tarded in her onward way by her seem
ing'lnfirmity, she heard the epithets of
‘nuisance’ and ‘slow-cogch/ and many
others of less pleasing character applied to
her j but she only smiled to herself, say
ing:
‘Ah, it makes qulteadlfference wheth
er It is the heiress, Mab Darrell, ’ in her
velvet and ermine, or a poor woman In a
rusty shawl aud gown, and an old poke
j)onnet I’
, So she went on her way as far down as
Summer street, and then retraced her
atepa back and forth, with a spirit of
perseverenoo worthy of the object In her
mind.. But she had another object than
this—an especial mission of her own.'—
Under her shawl-sbe carried a well-filled
purse,,and, at a sight of the children who
looked Into the shop windows where
were the holiday tova and books, with.
longing looks, she would make detours
from the walk, and' thrust Into, their
cold, naked hands a generous aruopnt of
scrip, bidding them run in and buysorae
thiug for themselves, and a little New
Year’s gift for their brothers and sisters
at homo; then, without waiting- for
thanks, Mab Darrell would lose herself
in the bustling throng, literally obeying
the injunction : ‘Let not thy left hand
know what thy right hand dieth.’ ,
■‘Please let me look in Just for a min
ute? ills so pretty !’-cried a child's
voice. And Mab tutjaed to see a little'
girl of about ten years, thinly clad,, thii
importuning a poiioem in. ■ ’
•Can’t do It, my little Miss, It block,
the way ;so move on,’ answered,the po
liceman. Then, it seemed as though
something in the look of the forlorn. Ill
tie creature touohed'hii heart; perhaps
ha thought of his own little bonne brooi),
Warmly.boused and clothed, and of the,
New Year’s <liuner, and tho New Year’s
gifts awaitln; them,:wo oatmot tell ;
.hat, whatever-It w'as, he slipped a twen
ly-flve cent•' scrip ’ into, this ;|UUe { girl’t
band, and went on his beat with .a soft
ened expression upon hli weather beat
en face. , ,
■ ‘What do you want, nay litter girl?’.
asked Mab, pressing through the crowd
to the child’s Bide. ‘Were ly'ou,'wishing'
tor that .pretty, tea-set for. yourself, or a
crying baby fory’our little slater?’ : ■
‘Oh,,no,’answered tbe little girl, drawn
towards Mab by tbe tenderness in her
voice ;‘I was only looking ;. we donfl
have any New Year’s now since we’ve
got so poor. Perhaps you’ll let me tell
you, you speak so hind,’and now tbe
child'pressed to Mab’s side and held hei
place there in spite of the Jostling crowd.
'Yes, you may tell me. I’d like to heai
what it Is X can help you, perhaps, my
little girl.’
‘Well, then, I will. I’m not going to
tell you to get you to give me money, for
I think you are poor yourself, but not so
poor ,as us. Ob, since father died and
mother got so sick that she can only sew
just a little, we are very poor, and—and
mother and sister Maggie are sitting at
home to-hight without Are, for our coals
are.all gone, and we've not much in tbe
house to eat, and— and so I oameout to
night thinking I’d ash some hind peo
ple to give me Just a little; for you se
mother thinks she’ll be better - soon, ami
she does not want to go to the City and
have her name, put down and all thai.
you know ; but,l’m afraid we'll have to.
for every time Igo to ask .there seems »
big lump in my throat that don’t let me
say a word.”
“ Poor dear—poor little dear—”
“ And I’m afraid they’ll ask my name,
ahd where : we live, and think we’re
beggars.”
11 Well, you’re not afraid' to tell me
•your name?” and now Mab took the
small, naked hand of tbe child tenderly
in her own.
, ‘Oh, no;, my name, is, Dorothy—they
call me Dili.’
•Well, then, my Utile Dill, I’ll tell you
what we’ll do ; I'll lead you. along npil
ask aid for you, and nobody need know
but jfi® are my little girl.,’
So Mab Darrell led the shivering litt'e
Dorothy along, and, here and there she
would Snect one and another in the
crowd, that She knew by Intuition were
good Samaritans , to these she told the
fatherless gill’s story, hof did she’tell I'
in vain, ns the package of scrip she held
in her hand bore witness.
At last, among the crowd she saw a
gentleman, plainly belonging to the up
per class, who proved to be one of her
intimate friends and 'kdmirers. Ap’
preaching him she told Dorothy’s Story,
as she would, had It been her own, se
cure in her disguise.
Vith a withering look of scorn he
wrapped hlmeell more closely in bis
winter garment, and nearly, spurning
herself and little D..rolhy from his path,
he pressed on with the woids :
‘Pah ! nuisances—public nuisances I
The city authorities of Boston should see.
to it.’
‘Heaven, help you, sir! have you not
read Chr let's words : ‘The. poor ye have
always with you ?’
‘What’s that?' he answered curtly,
annoyed “that the woman and child
Still pressed upon his steps.
‘Christ said, sir, on one occasion,’ ‘The
poor ye have always with you,’ that Is
that it was an understood thing that they
were your care.’
The gentleman struck by aoraeppin
liarily in the tone of the speaker, turned
sharply and eyed her from head to foot
she still going on with her. story ; but
she was brought to a dead ftsp by :
‘Cant! humbug ! leave off dogging my
s’eps In this way, you whining hypoorlt--
or I’ll give youin charge of the police !’
and then the angry man stalked on,
while Mab, leading Dorothy, took the
opposite direction.
Mab no longer asked alms for tbeoblld.
but taking her into several shops she
loaded her with all the things her little
arms could ; well carry, and was just
about to dismiss her with a promise to go
and see her mother, when herattentiou
was arrested by a second gentleman of
hei acquaintance. Atonceshe resolved to
tell him her story, or the story that for
he time being she had made her own ;
and this she did in a few touching
words.
‘My dear good woman, your’s is a hard
case, and though I'm not. overstocked
with this world's goods, I feel It a pleas
ure to give my mite. I lost my own fa
ther when I was but a boy, and I well
know the struggles of the widow and the
-fatherless.—Hero arc two dollars I only
wish lO' uld make It more. Aud a hap
py New Year to you both, and heaven
care for you.’
, Then the young man, with a respect
ful bow and a pleasant smllo passed on,
and was lost to Mab’s and little Doro
tby's sight in the abifting crowd ; but
his Words had loft a sweet savor in their
hearts never to pass away.
And now, with words of -cheer, Mab
parted from her little charge, standing
to watoh her uptil- she had turned the
opposite corner, thinking of her 'well
fll’bd hands, and, better slHl, her well
filled purse, and the happy heart- that,
she carried la her .child bosom—tiear, fa
therlesallttle Dorothy I When she passed
from- her sight, she hurried, borne as, fast
as her steps could ’carry her, for -it - was
growing late. , ■
‘There, I thought it was some auoh
plan,’ answered ,her cousin Nell, after
h iving heard her story In thp privacy ol
tnelr chamber ‘And ob, wasn’t it odd
chat you should meet two of your most
devoted admirers ?’
‘More than odd— Providential, Nell
dear. And now we must talk no more
or we shall be 100 sleepy New Year’s
morning for anything ; and I shall want
to be especially brilliant, for you know,
among our New Year’s callers will be
my two ‘most devoted,’ as you call them
—Herbert Stacy and Ellery Lund, the
poor artist, who supports a widowed
mother and sister on bis small Income.—
Thunk Clod, there's some great .souls in.
the world, Nell! And now good-night.’
New Year’s came • I car, and bright
md Mab Darrell's Dooie Worth’s parlors
core filled with callers ; but as yet nol
lier'Herbert Stacy, the reputed, million
aire, or Ellery Lund, the poor artist, had
male tlieii,appearance. It was getting
ate aijd the re waa.'a cessation of callers
i’lie tWo cousins Were,holding a little
pleasant gossip over the ' events, .of the
lay.’.ajhen Slab sprang to; her’ • feet with
the exclamation: . '
'There’s Herbert Stacy! Bun np stairs
quickly; and bring the oldahawl andtbe
.poke.nohnet!’■' 1 ’
‘Mab, Mab,"whatever-’ —' ■ '
‘bon’t 1 stay to. aafc,' but go quickly ;
.take them into the oonsbrVatoryi and I
will meet you there, Nell.’ .
Nell hurried to obey: Mab’e bidding
and .met her waiting in the conservatory,
with Ifor beau iful hair plastered to her.
face, and her neck disfigured.by the un
sightly bob atthe back. ,1
‘Noif put on my bonnot fqr mo ; never
mind ;about the veil—and-throw the
shawl jovor my shoulders; It compares
‘well-with my bine morte antique; darling
doesn’t it dear V
*Oh,iMab, dear, dent I’
•‘Don’t waste your breath, darling.—•
Now X’ii take my.attitnde;’ and then
she limped across the conservatory to the
half louoge and half couch, and seated
herself, adding : ‘go, and when Mr. Sta
cy inquires for me show him in here.’
‘Oh,' Mab, I’m afraid I’vA not the
Courage.’
‘But you must, darling, or you will
spoil all. Go, that’s a dear Nell, go and
bring him to me. ’ . '
Thus bidden, Nell went, and was met
most graciously by Mr. Herbert Stacy,
who tendered her, with bis complimen ts,
a choice bouquet of-hot bouse flowers.—.
After |a few of the compliments of the
■lay.wpre over, he asked for Miss Darrell,
and was led,'according to request, by the
anwiljing Nell to the conservatory.
On fjrslenterlng.ln the dim light he
hardly recognized,Mab iotbe lady sitting
on the Jounge, so btatuesqua, like, with
hands: lying so listlessly upon her lap,
and eyes bent to the floor ; but on nearer
approach.be saw that It . was none other,
and boWing his stately bead be was
tboutito offer iris New. Yeafls wishes,
with the flowers Intended for her, when
he stopped midway in his obelsanw,
with the excla’matlon : .
.IJupiter Ammon I okn this be Miss
Darre(l !’
~,Mah, without so much, as raising her
a Huger, replied 1
: ‘Haveyou so soon forgotten’ the nui
sance .of Washington street, and her
poke bonnet .” ■ •
The young man’s discomfiture can be
betterldiagined than described. Suffice
it to sky that their Intimate relations
terminated here, and the-gay spend
thrift,! who bad so pearly.run through
liis princely fortune, saw bis hopes of
making up bis losses In part by a mar
riage with Mab Darrell, the wealthy,
heiress, fall to the ground.
But, In this cose, what was one’s loss.
was another’s gain, for, In leas than six
months, Ellery Lund, was the husband
01 Mab Darrell, and he often laughingly
asserts that though, he did get a poke—
he got a wife in a poke—bonnet.
A TRAVELER'S STORY.
‘ls this seat engaged, sir?’
I glanced up from the paper I was
reading and met the smiling regard of a
genial-looking gentleman in the prime
• f life. ■ ’ ' ■ ;
‘lt is not, air;’ •
‘With your permission, then,’as be
seated himself beside me. -
The train had already started, and
presently the conductor made his appear
ance collecting the tickets. Beaching us,
be detached the appropriate coupons
from pur tickets, handing back , the
muinder with the usual ‘cheeks.’
■Pardon me,’ said nay companion, ‘but
I perceive you place your ticket In your
wallet.’
‘Yes.’
•It is unwise, unsafe.’
‘Why do you consider it so ?’ I inquir
ed, with curiosity, returning the wallet
to my pocket,
‘Suppose through carelessness, or wo
may say accident, your wallet Is lost —
your .pocket, may be picked, for in-,
stance.’ •
‘Yes/’ 1 , : ■,
‘Your money and your ticket are both
gone.! Probably you do..not appreciate
the manifold beauties of such a position,
I do not thiok It possible except by 1 - ex
perience.’ : .
‘lt would certainly be an undesirable
situation. I can see that clearly enough.
Pardon the question naturally suggested
—were you evfer so placed ?’
‘Once,- only once.’
. ‘How is that?’ . :
•Yon wish to profit by my experience?
Well, I don't know'that I mind telling
you the story. It may serve to amuse
you, if nothing more. 1
It ocourroda number of years ago and
of no coriseuuence. I’had taken the early
express train, and being somewhat tired
and altogether sleepy, bad stretched my
self upon a seat for as oomiortabie a nap
as circumstances would permit,' I slept
soundly, for I could in those days sleep
well almost any where,and did not awake
until the oonduotpr’ came for my ticket.
The essential piece of pasteboard could
pot be found. -1 was positive I had pur
chased a ticket; indeed, I remembered,
dlstlhctly having shown it tolho bag-,
gage ciprk at the time of checking my
trunk- i
-The conductor grew impatient, passed
to the other end of the car and returned
to me. I bad made .the. .discovery that
my pocket book bad been picked, and in
proof of my story showed him my bag
gage ofieok. i ■ , ’
It was useless. If you have traveled
much you are aware that a vlrtqoua con
ductor takes no man’s word.;: in, fact, all,
men have.designs
dividends except ■ himself. It was;per
fectly natural; therefore, that the faith
fil steward in question should aay f
■The check is all right; but- bow do I
know that it belongs to you?lwilltakc
the money for your fare, or stop the
train and put you off, Just as you choose?’
Whatcould Ido? Protestations amount
ed tq. nothing, and my fellow passen
gers, with the usual tendency of human
ity. tp trample upon afallen man, show
ed clearly by their looks and expressions
they,thought me a sneaking-rogue, who
.would steal a passage if be could. They
paid money, why should not I pay mine?
VOL.SB.—NO-35.
Few in on - would over sea heaven If
.Judgment was rendered by. a Jury—ex
uept themselves. ,
My laearch for the lost ticket had
brougl t'to light about a dollar.and eighty
cents. This. I. told the conductor .was
every ient.l bad about, me. , He said It.
.vasal cut Ufty oeuts short of. the fare to
Laude dale city, but that he would pass .
me tin ougb for It rather, than stop the
train. From Lauderdale, a clty Of much
Inlpor anoe, I could write to my partner
for mo ney.' It would certainly be as well
-as to framp teni or twelve' miles back to
the oily‘l had left| and where I should
be no letter off, belng equally'a'sirahger
there. • ""
In c ue time Hound myself at Lauder
dale; ' rent to the best hotel { telegraphed
for mo ley,and wrotean explanatory letter
to my .partner. This business attended
to, I si lied out to see what sort of a place
Laude :dale city might, be. There \vss
‘nothing to do but amuse myaslf as best I
could until the money should coihe; so I.
determined to make the most on my vol
untary holiday. As I strolled leisurely
up the main street a newsboy'darted out
of a paper office crying :
‘Dufa ■ Banner —extra edltloa°-alI
about fbe murder—great accident bn the
B—-road,’ eto„ etc.' (Save : an' extra ?’
I took the sheet, and thrust my baud
in my pocket for the money without a
moment’s thought. You may imagine
my. feelings when compelled to! return
that two-pepny bit of paper to the boy,
with the muttering excuse that 1 bad no
change, and the utter contemptuous ex
pression on the boy’s face as he. received
it! I.imniedlately stepped into'the of
fice of the Daily Banner, and wrote a
paragraph of .my recent mishap, taking
care tq make.it os amusing'as possible.—
When complete,' I banded it to the Clerk.
He rcadit'luugbed.and took it into the
'private office. Coming back a few min -
utes after, bo told the book-keeper to give
me fifty cents. It was not much, but
more than lexpeoted. ‘Weil; I contin
ued my walk until I finally reached the
end of'the street, whicnterminutes at
the S-r-i- river, here spanned by a long
covered bridge, I crossed the bridge, and
was surprised 'to see : upon reaching the
opposite side that I would be required to
pay toil. A young girl, came up to the
door.of, the little office, as,l stepped up
and inquired: bow much I .should, pay,
drawing forth my solitary sbinplaster.'
‘Ob,’said she, with a smile and asligbt
. blush,' 'we do not charge ministers any
thing.’ .
It wps not a bad joke, but I suppressed
the laugh; that rose to my lips, and thank
ing her for the consideration shown to
the clergy, I .turned about and retraced
my steps to the hotel, not without slight
twinges of conscience for allowing tne
mlstake to pass and taking the advan
tage of it.. . .
My first duty next morning was to ,
seek some knight of the .razor. I had -
noticed a pleasant little sbop.at no great .
distance from the hotel in my walk the
' previous day. Thinking that I should
do no better by looking further, I repair
ed to'.that. There was in attendance a boy
about twelve years of age, who stated
that his father—the proprietor of the
shop— bad gone to a neighboring city,
and would not return-before noon. With
out any hesitation I asked for the loan
of a razor, and proceeded to operate on
myself. While thus occupied, the cus
tomers began to present themselves, ex
pressing great.dissatisfaction on learning
bow. matters stood. Now, although !am
a proud man, I am not, thank God,
cursed with that species of vanity which
prevents a man’s.doing certain kinds of
honest labor simply because they are not .
genteel. Hero was, an opportunity af
forded me to at least earn the price of my
breakfast. I took advantage of it. . Told
the first man who entered after I had .
completed shaving myself I would shave,
him, I did so. In tact, I did quite a brisk'
business for a couple of hours, and if any
of the unfortunate individuals who came
under toy hand had any doubt of nfy fit
ness for the business they certainly ex-'
pressed none. At the expiration of this
time I began to think I bad done suffi
cient,! and feeling rather hungiy—hav
ing no breakfast —I divided the proceeds
with the boy; and prepared to return to
my hotel. Bull was not,done. yet, .As
I was brushing my hat a young dandi -
fied specimen of humanity came in. Re
solved that be should be the last, I went
to work upon him. When he came, to
pay me. Twos, to say the least, somewhat
surprised to see him deliberately pro
duce my pocket-book—the one I had lost.
Standing on no ceremony, I snatched it
from his bund and demanded lu pp gen
tle tone bow it.came in his posselbiou.
Without stopping to reply other than
by a volley of imprecations, ua be reached
the (100t 1 , be tumbled rather than ran
down the stairs into the street. ..Waiting
for neither hat nor coat, I followed—the
pocket-book In my hand. We' measured
off considerable ground in a short space
of time. On,’on. It, was. an , exqitlng
chase. Men, boya and dogs joined the
pursult.’thffcrleanf^'atop'thlef’growlng
louder and increasing. What an uproar
there was. Suddenly came a . flash of
light, sharp and vivid for an instant,
then utter darkness.. A policeman, mis
taking me for the tiilef, bad gently tap
ped me upon the head, as thelrcustom is,
and with the usual, result, the thief es
caped, and I, the victim, was apprehend
ed. My appearance told heavily against
ine;.but my story being fully corrobora
ted by the boy at the barber shop, I was
released.
Upon examining the wallet I found
ray own money Intact, and-about one
Hundred and thirty dollars besides. That
la:all the story.’
. 'Not a bad speculation after all,’ said I
as be couoluded.
■Well, perhaps so. No, It was not; but
still my advice holds good. Never place
a railway ticket In your wallet.’
Pork andßeans.— ;Pick put from
a quart of white beaus all that are im
perfect ; soak them In water oyer night,
which will more than double the balk.
Bollitwphours with plenty of water;
at the same time boil about twoppnnds
fat pork till done ; pour the beaus in a
shallow, earthen pan; slice the skin of
the pork and place It (flesh side down)
In the centra of the - beans; then coat
the pork and beans with best moli saes
or syrup. Bake till brown. A sub
stantial dinner for four to - six persons,
‘ and costing about fifty cents.
uatCo for H&aertißlnQv
ADvtßTißKXKzrra wm do inserted, at Ten Cents
er line for nit* drat <n ■ • 1 u \ and nveccn s
per lino for eootr snbMqnent Insertion. Qnnt*
teriy, half-yearly; and yearly AdvertlMmeMt >n
ertod at q liberal redaction on tbe above rai* p;
Advertisement* should be aooonipenJed by tlio
Cash. i Wnon sent without any length ol time
specified forpobllcation. they will bo conunnefl
until ordered out and onargod accordingly.
JOB PRINTING.
CAHi^ I HAimaiLiß ( CnionisAßa«|uideyeryotli
or doscrlntion of Jon and Oabd
1 ©BHa anil (®uob-
A; jSHAttP"'young fellow' says: ‘lf
timefls money,’ ho If willing'to'change
a little’6f his for casli, *" ‘ ' ■
'. ’ 1 .’ v i“:’ ;c i .t i
W£y would,Cjtesar have made aflne
novelist Because ho ,was ! Ro
man—air, ~ 1-.
Wpvdoea a butcher stick splinters
of wdod into l his’meat? ■ To s’kower it
for.^Wcustomere.(t!' v ■- <
... A Chicago teamster brojtd'a man’s
skul| by careless driving,.but was er
sknll-phted by the Jury* v; i,:
Aif Irishman said ho did hot come to
country for want. He had an abun
dance of that at homo.
■ In! some portions of the south at
tempts are being made 1 to revive-knee,
breeches and shoo Duckies..
Prentice wanted Some one to invent
ah ‘extractor’ that will take the‘stump’
out of Congressional speeches.'.
A guest at a western hotel, finding a
long, hair in the, butter, ordered the
waiter to bring, hint some ‘bald-headed,
butters’ .
A man Is in no danger as long as he
tSlka love, but when he writes it he is
impaling himself on bis own pot-hooks
most effectually. , .
... JAI 5 i 1
Houston, Texas*■ Whisky, is strongly
recommended by the local papers as a
means of suicide. T
The latest .‘society .nows’ is that the
mouth shouidiibe worn slightly .ajar
this year. ,'Of:course thisfashipu is for
the ladies. ,
; PkKkips It is old* but it certainly Is
a felicitous saying of’Josh Billings,'that
•one’ single’ hornet wiiij feels well' will
break up a whole camp-meeting.’
A littue girl, delighted at the sing
ing'of a bobolink, earnestly,asked her
mother,' ‘What makes him; sing so
-weetly, ma?. Is it because he lives on
flowers?’
The old bachelors out west, havlnga
fear of the law in regard to apparent.
breaches of promise, have concluded to
have printed on their cards, “ good for (
this call only.”
The young men at the watering
places have discarded white vestaf. The
young ladies use. so much mil in their
hair that a .vest is only ,good : . for :one
evening on the piazsa. ■
An ingenious baker accounts for the
Ijiigh price of his loaves by saying that
he han it On the authority Of an . emi
nent’naturalist that tbo dough belongs
to the dear tribe, ' ■
. a man being annoyed on one occa
sion ■ by a tiddler, who persisted in
playlng.in front of his house, sent him
out a dollar, with the’ notice that one
scraper was enough at the door.
•A Sailor at the Brooklyn Navy
Yard explained to a curious landsman
the other day how prize money is di
vided. ‘lt is sifted through a ladder,’
ho said. ‘what falls through goes to the
officers—what sticks the sailors get.’
When a man is 1 unable to' tell the
dme, by his watch,, because there are
two hands, and he doesn’t know which
to believe, it is-a tolerably sure sign
that he has partaken of more refresh*
ments than his nature requires. '
As a lady and gentleman were admi- ’ /
ring a poplar tree, the latter gallantly
remarked: ‘lf I add (a) toit, it'will ,
become popular.’ ‘Better add ’us, 1 she .'
replied, and it will become populous.”-
He took the hint and married her soon
after. ’
' 'Yon have considerablo'floating pop*
ulationinthis,village, havener you,?’
asked a stranger of one of the citizens
of a village on the Mississippi. ‘Well;
yes, rather,’ was the reply‘about hiUf
the year.the,water is up'to the; second
stotjj window.’,'
‘CI.A.BA, I love but' thee alone’—thus •
sighed the tender youth. ‘O.'hear me,
then, my passion own with the tremb
ling 1 lips and earnest tonc—Jndeed, X
speak the truth.’..He.paused, the blush
o’erspreaa her cheek ; she let him draw,
her near ; scarce for emotion could she
speak, yet did she ask, i n accents meek,
‘how much have you a week
‘ls this seat unoccupied ?’ asked an
exquisite of an elderly lady,of rustic
design in the cars at Norwalk, Saturday
dvenlng. ‘I don’t know,’ said she has
tily, running her hands with a great
deal of feeling over the surface. ‘lt
feels, mostly like plushy but you can’t
alwaya-telk’ ~ ~
One evening, sitting in the village
inn, John Berry said he once drove-a .
horse seventy-two miles in one day on
the ice, when the ice was so thin that
the water spurted up through the holes
cut through it by the. horse’s hoofs.—
One 6f : the bystanders remarked that .
seventy-two miles was a pretty goo.d ~
drive for one-day. ‘Yes,’ said Uncle .’.
John, ‘but'itwasa long day in June,’.
A newly-fledged doctor recently set
tled in Havana,-111., and his first- 1 case
wasa boy, who, while shelling pop
corn, .got a kernel up his nose. The
doctor examined the case, looked at the
patient’s tongue, and then ordered a .
fire to.be built. When that was done,
the doctor told them to hold the boy
over the Are 'until the kernel.got hot.—'
enough to ‘pop.’ The old mad went,
up stairs and ,got his . shot gun, but ■
while he was" loading It the doctor es
caped. ' ~.. "
A preacher, whose custom it was
to Indulge in very long sermons; ex
changed with one who preached,, short
ones. At about the usual timo;fot dis-!
missing, the audience began,, tq go, out,
until nearly all had left, pox
ton walked up. to the pulpit ; stuiis, and
said to tho preacher In a whisper ; ,: -
•When you have got throu." U look up,
will you, and leave tho key'at my resi
dence, next door to tho church.’