f|)e 3Mncrte jttoluntcci. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BRATTON Ac KENNEDY. •rnCE>*BOVVB habeet square. ikrms:— Two Dollars per year if paid atrlcliy m advance ; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents If. paid within three months; after which Throe Dollars will be charged. These terms wIU be rigidly ad hered to in every Instance. No subscription di - continued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editors. |ludiaL THE TRUE WOMAN. BY E. M. SWAN. I dreamed, when a ulilid, that a omd day In the future, When’ I should bo taU, graceful, noble' and true,- ■ f * • ■ , I would find for my bride some ‘ bright, radiant creature, 1 . . 1 ’., Whose; eyes should be stars, plucked from 1 Heaven’s own blue; Her cheeks should bo brighter than rose of Da mascus ; * Her lips should bo’ sweeter than tnortol e’er jejssed; . jjcr' form should bo lovllhesa; graceful her mo tion; ■ Ast&tpe of Venus half-shrouded-with mist Years passed; and my childish Impression still lingered, ’ , ’‘ V • • . ’Twns. graven so deep on, my heart - and my mind.; ' > 1 Though Time and :Experience’ shattered roy idol,- - As yet, ’twos too de'ar be :llghtly,T , 6slgned; As youth came upon,’naei and no revelation Of being seraphic was granted; it .seemed r , That I had been gazing too hlgh. so 1 fcalfited Each maid with the colors that childhood hod dreamed. ; 1 looked upon all In the hope of seeming The angel that surely was fashioned forme;' But the dull, listless eye,- ,or the graqe-laoking figure, . i■ i Or something, still told mo each could not be ' she. ills true I oft found-most symmetrical features,. And forms that Praxiteles might haveadorod, Eyes that ‘were witching, and lips full and oharjnlng: * But never in one were' all requisites stored;'. Manhood arrived, and still ’thinking I’d. find her, I viewed again every acquaintance ■ and friend; Then sought other places, and gazed on new faces. Determined to die or accomplish my end. I visited towns, and I visited cities, Sojourned in the country, rode over the main, Sealed mountains, trod valleys,sought plaeesof fashion, Searching, still searching, but ever, in vain. I flirted wlth beaptles at levops' and parties; I danced with the belles Saratoga has known; 1 waltzed with dofte-eyed senorltas In Cuba; And paced with maidens the banks of the Rhone; 1 visited Albion’s Isle of the ocean ; The courts and saloons of Europe, surveyed; I whispered ot love In fair ears of Ausonla; And’ pressed dewy llps in Trlnacrla’s shade, - The plains of Judea, the vales of Circassia. The Turkish seraglios, were searched one by one; ' ' Then Persia’s rich palaces suflored Inspection; In short, hot a, land escaped under the sun. I often would think Pd discovered my angel, "But "a'word, look, or motion would spon.un ’. deceive; , . I found so much heartless connected with . beauty, I was quick to mistrust and moat slow to be ■’■Hove.' ’■ ■X ’knew from ray childhood one true-hearted ■ .woman, - - . Not utterly void of expression and grace; ' Whose beauty resided .not wholly lu flgure, In vesture. In countenance, feature or face, .Unskilled In deception,i unfettered by Fashion, Untaught in the little essentials of art. Ignoring ihO folly that beauties deßgbt In, She nurtured the graces of . soul and of - heart. I thought pf this being while riding the billows;- She haunted hie ever in forest or hall; I found that her influence moulded my nature Far more than the smiles that from lovliness fall. Tho’ the good and the true may be found in all nations; In the bright sunny south, or amid northern snow; •. • Still I knew but this one, for X'd skimmed o er ■ the surface,. ■ ■ ftijo pearls, as I passed,.shed their, lights far below* —Wood's Household Magazine. Iflisttllantmis. THAT BABE. Mrs. Whifftera was a. pretty little inar ' tied woman of aomo two or three years standing, with a bharnailngly, winning manner, which instantaneously captured the hearts of all male bipeds wh6 BP preached. ~ , I , call: Mrs. Whlffters pretty, though her features were not correct when tried by the standard of Classical beauty, be cause of the smile which always lit up her face and , transfused It with a subtle magnetic power of attraction there, was no resisting.. Strange,’ almost incredible as it- may appear, she was no less a fa vorite : with women than with men ; whether it was on account of her intense womanliness, her ready, sympathy with all questions of dress,, her omniembrolng charity, or some more mystic and pro found chord of nature, is a fact whose so lution must be left to some abysmal pay: ohologyat. ' ' But, although’delighting to walk on the Avenue in the glory of bewitching cost umes, adapted to dazzle and bewilder, masculine eyes, and as fond of afternoon performances at the theatres as if she was born in l the city which country edi tors think it funny to call Gotham, her mind ,arjd al) Its Constituent parts wefe wrapped up in; two objects. One of these objects was about slx feet high ■ with red whiskers,;tilde eyes and brown haltran ewerlnfc when .called, to the name.of Jack ■Whififtors. It kissed her every morning. Wifk “d° h unction, and: then departed’ ‘down-town,’ that mysterious bourn from which so many travelers ne’er, return, save with empty pockets. Mr; Whifftefs, however, .was pqstalned :by thei unfaltering trust universally placed in him, and .His better,half never ■ knew an, ungrotlfled wish-to lie cure; her wishes were always moderate. 'me other object which.shared her heart was a pink-faced, large-eyed, bald-hea ded anomaly, entitled Indiscriminate, ly Jack; Junior,,(by his father) precious darling (by his mother); pooty eetle sing (hy.ibread-and-britter, young ladies), the iiulWrioe (by Mr. Whlflters’ bachelor brother); and that baby by (by Mrs. Ma ria Quilts).',, ' v • Almost holding .It, as; a 'fortiptii ; artlcle, ■.that heir baby was the wisest,; handsomest -and. altogether the moat remarkable ol ! its species, fhattbad ever honored the earth liy appearing;on ,Us surface. Mrs. Whlffters was accustomed, when speak ing of it;‘t(>!wlthdraw the splggol of dis cretion from ithe barrel of love, and si deluge her friends with its, praises, th'al they sometimes vaguely wondered how. It was possible so small a body could bq so gigantic a bore. ' ! With mothers’ and young ladles who were young, it was of course pn entirely different thing ; they were never weary of inquiring.' and 'hearing about the last tooth, or of watching the infant’s men tally tottering steps toward intelligence.; It was the young ladles who wore not i\xt American Jalnnter BY BRATTON & KENNEDY, young that condemned the beautiful ex-1 hibition of a tender .artless love,) and wished; Mrs,’ WhiflTtere to under-' atarfd that her baby'was not so very dlf-i ferent from those of: other, people, 81000’, all infants, looked alike. , v - Chief among these ammbnioal critics! of the boarding-Louae Was the Miss Ma-| ria Quilts already referred to ; atough,! wiry virgin >of eome five or eight and) thirty years, as near as could bb guessed! by one who durs£ not penetrate theEleu-i sintan mysteries of her ‘front.* She had) ii room above that of Mrs* Whifffcers, andf there occupied. • a good portion of hen time in the chaste solemnities of her! toilet. • It would-be slander to say that -the was angling for a husband, but it! looked remarkably*' suspicious that whem Mr. Potters, -the theological student,! came to the housed, she was greatly troub-i led about free-will'and predestination,! and sought’.hfs advice with assiduity. He. was a weak-eyed, flabby young man, and on one-occasion was beard to toil her, confidentially,-that he thought St. Paul, somewhat mlatraen in his ideas about! women,-at : wbioh she smilod^gr^eioas- Iy. Day by day Miss Quilts and. the sin-' dent became more friendly, and from discussing St. Paul and women in the, abstract, had now came down —or ascend ed, as the reader may'prefer, to consider-' lug the representative of all that is fair and graceful In, her condition-of wife/ • Ah,' sighed Marla, with’, a sidelong glance so arch'that It nearly gave, her strabismus, ‘what men need which they rarely have sense enough to desire when they marry, is a woman competent to take charge of a household and adminis ter It with that fidelity and economy which unhappily are only too rare, So many, attracted by giddy frivolity and the gleam of an evanescent simulation' take to themselves, as partners, silly, empty-headed girls, and I sometimes tremble for the future of my; beloved country,' It is seldom that wo meet one. of those perfectly assorted couples where the Inexperience of the husband Is tem pered by the domestic knowledge of the wife, and the many mistakes of the male alleviated, by the wider experience of the female.’ As can be perceived, Miss Marla used choice language; her favorite’ author was Johnson. Mr. Potters thought this smacked a little of woman’s rights, a subject of which he had a perennial horror ever since he bad' been called to account for the unlucky St. Paul by a ferocious non descript who wore trousers and boots. So he inquired, timidly: ‘You do. not believe In woman’s voting, do you ?’ ■I? Oh, no 1’ exclaimed the fair Marla, rolling her eyes heavenward. ‘Woman’s place Is In the family circle,, presiding over the household altar - and standing, upon the domestic hearth. Such is wo man's proper position,. But you were saying ’ ... ‘Well?’ asked Potters, as she paused bashfully. ‘That you thought of selecting a part ner.' ‘Was I? Well I suppose I must marry. Would you— • Advise me,’ he was going to soy, hut she gave him no time. ■Oh, Elijah, how you make my hear! beat! You should not have been so ab rupt Wo poor womon are not so strong as you men ’ she could have whipped him with one hand—‘and any sudden emotion o verpowers us. Yes, Elijah, I, will be your wife . ; Potters had hardly meant to. propose,- hut since he had done so, as sfte thought, he made the beat of it, and concluded that she would . make a very good wife for him. • Mias Marla was overjoyed that she.had at length landed her fish, and though he was not In. the least ardent, she- set that down, not altogether incorrectly, to his having seen but very little of women. ‘Promise that you won’t be angry with m«, dearest Elijah,’ she whispered in the course of conversation, ‘Angry 1 Why should I be angry with you ? J ‘I have a secret which you shall know; some day-not now, I couldn’t help It; it was my misfortune. You are, not angry? .‘No, no.’ . But Still her words orcurred to him at Intervals, and made him , reflect upon what might be this terrible secret. The next morning was clear, bright and cloudless; the air keen and fresh, with just enough frostiness to be exhil arating. The streets were filled with the I southward-bent streams of men, all con verging toward - that great maelstrom colled business. Mr Whifflera kissed his pretty little wife and departed, leaving her sitting by the window, holding upon her knee ‘Jack, Junior,’ and vainly endeavoring to arouse Into giving- some signs of intej lect his vacant eyes and flaccid face. But all to no purpose; the baby was stupid to day randwould understand nothing-;-ho would not even, despilte her pathetic be seeching, put up his areas over his head to‘show how big baby Is.' ‘Dear, dear,’ said Mrs. Whlflters, he must be going, to have some more teeth.' While sitting tbps, a lady and a little girl were shown in. ■ . ‘Oh. you dear sweet thlng you, to come and see me!’ cried Mrs. Whlffters, as her friend flew at and kissed her. , •Yes, and I wantyou to come and help me ohooseh dresfc.. Henry told me that I might go to Stewart’s and order a new one. I think I ahsill get a black silk,and have It trimmed with a velvet box plait ing round the bottom, and. , Cackle,.cackle for two mortal hours, while she described some of the visions of trimming which in', endless number floated through, her brain. Mrs. Whltt tera sighed, the heart-broken, sigh of c woman who Is deprlyed the pleasure of shopping. . , _ , .ol •It Is real-lovely of you to ask me,’ she said sweetly, but with the rudneas of res ignatlon. ‘I should dearly like to go, hut X sent away my nurse yesterday and cannot leave baby.’ ‘Pshaw! * exclaimed her voluble friend, •my little girl Eosa can take cate of the baby very well ipdeed. • .She knows.bow-’ Mrs. Whlffters called the child to her side, and, after inflicting upon her a ma ternal catechism, and finding that slje re ally know how to tend babies; decided to leave the precious Infant in her charge. In a abort time-an hour or so—Mrs. Whlffters was ready to depaft upon the ■hop-rummaging expedition. Ae her hand was on the' ■ door-knob ah© turn ed and'eald: ' 'Now Boss, be sure not to go oat of the room.’ 'No,. ma|am,’ was the nngramatloal and amblg'aouß ( . response. ■ Left to. hersoif, Rosa commenced by opening, and tumbling over the contents of every drawer that wasunloosed, while 'the baby lay.very 'quietly sprawling on’ .the floor. Then she tried on some of 1 ;Mre. Whifltera’ false .hair before the glass, rather liked’the effect, and wished’ she were: old enough to wear such beau tiful braids that' mads such beautiful loops. This amusement falling,she took the stoppers out' of. all the bottles, del uged her handkerchief with 'new-mown hay,’ ‘and. saturated her forehead and' bands with Cologne'water ; she tried to drlnis' some as 1 she had seen her mother do.but it toated dreadfully ; covered her .face with powder, and plastered her hair ’With bandoline. Then she tried to crimp it with a.ooid Iron but could not succeed. 1 I- think Rosa was a- very bad little girl. • Havlngbythla time, about .exhausted the resouroes of ;Mrs.' Whlfflers’ robm, Rosa began to think-of -fresh fields and pastures new. The house was perfectly quiet; the only-’sounds she could hear were those produced by passing vehicles in the street. Besides, there could- be no harm in just going out for a minute, " So she picked up the baby, opened the door, and ventured in the hall, Sfo one was In sight; • She went cautiously upstairs, looking about with the eager eyes of. an Inquisi- tive gill. On the next story she stopped and gazed at thedlfferent. doors, wonder ing If they were looked or not. She tried one; It opened, and she went In. The room was small and scarcely fur nished. On the bureau was an open box, which at once caught her eye. She laid the baby down, fan to It and pulled out some Corkscrew burls. These she lled on berbead.and then commenced plastering herself anbw wlth'llly-whlteand aromat 1c vinegar. ■Oh, ain’t It fun ?’. she cried, dancing up and down in her glee. Suddenly her recreations were Inter rupted-by a violent box on the oar which made her reel, while the curls wore snatched from her- head, and a harsh voice cried: •You naughty, Wicked little: wretch!’- Rosa looked, and saw what seemed to her guilty soul a gigantic spectre, clad in white and yellow flannel, with a dingy turban round Its head. She howled and’ fled incontinently.. Miss Marla Quilts looked the door and returned to.their biding place thesbame ful evidence of her age. In so doing she noticed the baby and started. Started with horror, for there immedi ately rushed into her mind all the instan ces she had ever heard or read of the dex- terlty used by people who desire to be rid. of their offspring. She knewby heart the story of that unfortunate gentleman who' Is rsqnnetod to hold a Child f„-—. ••.ntont : and :is thenoerortn sauuieu with it for life, i What It this were a similar scheme > adopted by some unnatural parent, and that wleked girl the artful emissary 7 Or—still more horrible thought-sup pose it were part of a plan concocted by some designing individual to ruin her character 1 The perspiration broke out on her forehead. What should she do! She sat down to think it over, but for, a long time could come to no conclusion.. At length she decided to take it down, stairs and place it at Mrs. Wfaliiter's As she is fond of babies,’ said Miss Quilts, grimly,. ‘l'll give her another to, take care of.’ NoW, it so happened that Mr. Potters, while wrestling with ffate, free-will and fore-knowledge' absolute,’ had:-heard. Bosa’s yell, and at this very moment was standing .at his door wondering what could be the matter. As Mias Quilts’ door opened he closed his own, but re mained looking through the crack. His astonishment was unbounded at seeing his Maria in her fearful undress, and was, if possible, increased when he noticed her burthen. ' ‘A baby I’ he whispered hoarsely to, k'ltfhls agitation he moved the door j it gave a slight creak. _ , . ~, ‘Goodness gracious’.’ thought Miss Quilts, ‘if anybody should see me!’ She laid the baby oil the floor, and scuttled back to her room. Watching the hall, she saw Mr. Pot ters come forth, take up the haby. say, soothingly,. ‘My poor child I my poor child!’ and so retire. - , ‘Oho!’ she said, wagging bor head mab iolousiy. ‘Ho it’s your child, ls. lt? _X’II pay.yo.u for.this when we ate married.— And,you a theological student, tool’ : With that she fell to preparing her self for public exhibitions as fast as pos- Bl Meanwhlio Mr. Potters was walking up and down the room with the baby In hiraTms^he'had'hoard-thatwaathe , best way to quiet ohlldren-thlnklng of what he had just seen. • ‘And so this, is the secret she would tell me when' we were, married and I could not help myself,'he said, recalling her words of the previous day. How could she imagine that I would ever live with her after knowing her, disgraceful story? She ought to.be ashamed of her self! How; ugly she looks when not dressed ! ' I never would have believed that a woman could alter herself so,’ he added. , -He was very Innocent. At this moment the baby bpgan tpory. He tried to hush it, but every Instant its screams grew louder and louder. , _ In the midst of thqnOlce oamea kpook at the; door. ' Qu |lta entered, but stopped BhmfcwithwelWeigned astonishment. ‘ . ‘Elijah, dearest i'.she exclaimed. ,YOU with a baby I ' What does this mead. ’Hold,: unhappy .‘womandf, said Mr. PolttVs, sternly. ‘Your shameful,secret shall remain forever burled In my bosom; but let there be no further question ol you say 7’ she shrieked. •Isay that X could never think of tat ing for my wife an unmarried mother. Miss Quilts’, not very equaWe;.temper she said scornfully, ‘ when it’s your baby.’ The sudden assault staggered him. •My baby I’he gasped. Yss.yonr baby I A pretty minister CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY; FEBRUARY 15, 1872. yen’ll make I If yon So not marry me, I’ll cause a scandal and expose yon I’ - ‘lnfatuated female 1 beware how yon draw destruction upon your head 1 1 The answer of Miss Quilts was t 6 spring to the window, fling It open and cry‘Police I Police I' In a few moments the lumbering step of ajbnrly, blue-coated guardian of the peace-waa heard upon the stairs, and he oame in, stolidly. ' . AH the time the baby was yelling with the full power of bis lungs. ■I want that man arrested,’, said Miss Quilts, pointing to Potters- ■Wot for? 1 ‘He wishes to abandon his, child.’ Tt’s .a lie—an infernal Hoi’ shouted Potters. ‘lt’s her baby. ‘lt’syonrs.’ ‘lt’a yours.’ •It Isn't.’ •It Is.' ‘Ow I—ow I—ow !’ from Mies Quilts; premonitory symptoms of hysterics. . 'Gome now,' said the policeman, 'you don’t play them points on me, Whioh of yer owns the baby ?’ •He does.’ ‘She dees.’ ■I don't.’ 'Ton do.’ The policeman rubbed his chin medi tatively. ■I guess you had better step around to Jefferson Market and settle it there.’ ‘Oh, my baby ! my precious little dar ling I And did its naughty mamma go and leave It, so she did I’ With which rather confused observation, Mr. Whlff ters rushed Into the room, snatched the baby from Potters, and fell to kissing it extravagantly. 'So here’s another oh ’em,’ said the embarrassed policeman, who could find no other remedy for the situation than to repeat his former remark, that they had better step around to Jefferson Mar ket. Potters gave him a bill and he departed satiaSed. ‘You horrid tbingi’ said Mral WblfT-- ters, energetically, to (be humiliated. Miss Quilts. ‘This comes of an old maid! meddling with children ’ Flinging this, rankling Parthian arrow, she withdrew. ‘What is that terrible secret you spoke of yesterday ?’ asked Potters, gloomlng ly, eyeing Marla. ‘That—that—that is my front,’ she sobbed. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to add that the engagement was broken, and Mies Quilts left ber’boa'rding-house that after* noon* A PL EA FOR DOMESTIC SERVANTS. Some people are very apt to abuse and ridicule their domestics While there may be ground for their complaints and ridicule, there is probably too often a moving cause for their conduct in the bad temper and worse management of their employers. Every human being haa a right to be treated with respect and kindness, whatever his or her station In ife.l v«r mnflt exhibit" kind and coneid-' erate conduct in order to beeet in others, and obtain their hearty and reasonable service. Employ a contrary; course, treat them with distrust and sus picion, be always scolding anil complain ing, and they will dlstruot, fear and perhaps hate and despise yon. There is nothing in which the aid of imagination, that hand-maid of charity, may be more advantageously employed than in considering the condition of do-; mestio servants. Let a man endeavor to realize it himself; let him think Of ltd narrow sphere, of its unvarying and he will be careful not to throw in. unnecessarily the trouble even of a sln-i gle harsh word,-which, may make so 1 large a disturbance in the shallow current of a servant’s hopes and Joys. How often* on the contrary, do we find that masters and too often mistresses, seem to have no apprehension of the feelings of thosq under them, no ideas of any duties on their part beyond cash payment; where* iw, the good old patriarchal felling to. ward our household is. one which the mere introduction of money wages lies not by any means superseded, and which, in fact, cannot be superseded. Wo would bear with lenity from a child many 'things for which in a domestic we can dnd nothing but the harshest names.- Yet how often are our dependants little better than children. Another mode of viewing with charily the conduct of domestic servants, is to imagine what manner of servants we ourselves, 01 any one of those whom in our own rank we esteem and love, would make. Do we not perceive, in almost every character, some element which would occasionally make its possessor fail in performing the duties of domestic service ? Do we and that faithfulness, accuracy, diligence, and truth pervade the circle of our equals in such abund ance, that we should bo exhorbitantly angry the moment we perceive a defi ciency of such qualities among those who have perhaps been indifferently brought. up, and whop perhaps, "may have imbibed the vices of fear and false hood from their associations ? The essential requislteson the employ-,- er’s part are truth and kindness. These qualities,, however, may, in a high de-j gtee, belong to persons who fail to gain the conßdence of their domestics. Iri families, conßdence may be prevented by ate of capricious passion on the part of the ruling powers ; and men and wo men who in all important matters got kindly and justly toward their families, may be deprived of their confldenocjby weakness of temper in little tblnps.-r When we and a lack of truth In tlose about us, we should consider whether it may not arise from the furlousness ojour own tempers, which scares ■ truth from us, Wo should reflect how fearful apart angry emplov-ra may have in the sin of those falsehoods which Imm derate | fear of them gives rise to. . i . One certainly meets with: persons,who are vain of their ill temper; and of seeing how it keeps people in order—a vanity they might share with any wild animal at large. It is too often forgotton that servants have such possessions aq feel ings, afflictions and sympathies ; and what 1 wonder need;, there be if, under auoh treatment, their better nature should be perverted and their character become cunning, treacherous, wasteful,, careless, and often vlsolous ? This Is only what their employers have contributed to make them. Among the numerous books of confessions, wo should like, to read one containing the- genuine conns- sioss of one of our domestic servants; giving his or her genuine opinion of his or her several employers, his or her own feelings respecting his or her own con duct and Us rewardr-hls or her sorrows and anxiety, often so reoklessy caused.— What a revelation It would bo ;and how much It would help us to a . true under standing of the relations existing . now between employers and employed In don mestlo service.— N. Y. Sun, A. BOLD'STROKE. It was my first visit North since I had taken up my abode and entered bn the practice, of my profession in New Or leans. In the city of New York I had a very dear friend—my old ohum and classmate George Dickson :■ and as ho was the only person I knew in the* great metrop olis, of course I lost no time In looking him up; , Three years had passed since our last meeting, but ten could scarcely have produced. a change more marked than had taken place In the appearance and manner of my friend. Our first greeting and friendly Inqui ries over, I longed yet forebore to asii the cause of my friend’s melancholy. I felt sure, In due time, of. being the confi dent of his secret, provided no motive of delicacy prompted Its concealment. That evening, In my room at the hotel, George told me this story. He had form ed an attachment for a young lady, whose graces of mind and person he portrayed with all the fervor of a lover's eloquence. She bad returned his affec tion, but the father opposed his suit, having set bis heart on the marriage of his daughter to a nephew of his.' This nephew was a young physician of profligate character, my friend assured me—but that may have been prejudice— Who had long butuniuooessfully wooed ■hls : 'cousin, to whom his proffers were as. repugnant as to., her father they were ,acceptable. 5 Some months since, Mr. Parsons—the ■young, lady’s father-rbad gone South on business, accompanied by bis nephew.— : At New Orleans he had been siezed by sudden Illness, which terminated fatally in three days. On the day preceding his death he had executed a will (which had since been duly proved by the deposition of the at testing witnesses) containing a solemn re quest that his daughter, to whom he had left the whole estate, should accept the hand of bis nephew In marriage, coupled with a provision that In case the latter offered and she refused within a specified period to enter Into the proposed union,- the entire,estate, devised jo the daughter should be forfeited to the nephew. To' sacrifice her fortune to her heart's choice would not have cost Julia Parsons a moment’s hesitation, and nothing could have more delighted George Dickson than so fair an opportu nity of showing how superior his devo tion was, to all considerations of personal 1 advantage.. But her, father’s dying jo tJSrptised and'stunned her, It is true, for in their many conferences on the subject' ho had never ever hinted anything like coercion. Young Parsons bad not the magnan imity to forego his ungenerous advan-j tage. He might have been content wltbi his cousin’s fortune atone, but his rlght| depended on his offer and her rejection ofj an alliance which she felt In conscience, bound to accept. The brief season of grace which she had been compelled to beg even with tears, had already almostj passed, and a, few more days would wit-, ness the, condemnation of two lives to! hopeless misery. ' At the conclusion of my friend's narra ■, tlve, In which, for reasons that may hereafter bp developed, I felt a peculiar Interest, I prevailed upon him to accom pany me to" a, place , of amusement to which I had previously procured tick-; -eta.'' When wo reached the theatre the per formance had already begun; but we succeeded,in finding seats which com manded a fair view of the stage and the audience. In. a few moments George touched my elbow. ‘Observe the gentleman nearly oppo site, In front of the parquette, seated next the.column, leaning hla arm onbls cane,’he whlsped. I looked In the direction Indicated, and saw the face whose striking resem blance to one I had seen before caused me to start with surprise. ‘Who la.lt,?'X asked. .‘Elbrldge Parsons,' was the reply. 'The nephew of whom you spoke ?’ : ‘The same,’ answered my friend. \ ‘Does he resemble his uncle ?’ X was j on the point of Inquiring, but just then the stranger drew the glove from his right hand, and I saw that the first joint of the middle finger was wanting, a cir cumstance which, for sufficient-reasons, absorbed my attention ■Do you know the exact date of Mr. Parsons’ death ?’I asked, when we had gained the street, at the close of the per formance. ’ , .y e a ' said George, ‘lt was the twenty, third of December. His daughter re ceived a telegram from her cousin announcing the fact thb same day. But why do you ask ?' >1 have a reason which may or may not prove a good one,’ X returned, stating that I had business engagements fpr the whole of the next day, I parted With my friend; prom Ising to meet him on the following evening. _ Next afternoon found me In the office of Dr. Parsons. ■Dr. Parsons, I presume?’ were the words with, which I accosted the gen tleman I bad seen at the theatre. V, l Y©B sir.* ‘You may not, remember mo,. Doctor, but X believe wo have met before.’ ,‘Yoi) were In New Orleans last winter, were you not?' ; ,j was,’ he answered with etubatrass t’am the gentleman on whom you called, to draft a will.’ Ho turned pale and made no, reply. .‘X sew, the record of that will, In the Surrogate office this morning,’ I resumn of my uncle's will,’ hehas tlly Interrupted. •And yet,’ I continued, ‘you said It was your’s when you applied to have t written. You presented yourself as desi rous of executing such a document pte- paratory to embarking on , a perilous voyage. The paper was drawn In'accord ance with your Instructions, leaving the date to ho filled at the time of signing.— Your looks ware gray thefa, and you oer ; lalnly looked bid ehough to have a marriageable daughter; but your dls guise was not perfect; and I pointed to the mut Hated finger. ‘What do you mean ?’ he shouted, In defiant tones, springing to his feet. ‘Simply that your uhblo’e signature to that paper Is a forgery,’ 1 answered, ris ing and confronting, him. *He died on the twenty-third of December. . Your own telegram to that effect Is in exist ence. It was on the twenty-fourth, the day before Christmas, that you called on me to,prepare the paper now bn record As.hla will. The inference is plain,; yon undertook to manufacture this spurious testament after your uncle’s death, and, wishing to clothe your villainy In legal form, you procured through me the re quired draft; , You, or some one at your Instigation; Imitated the signature of the deceased. The'witnesses who have since perjured themselves in ! their depositions, were 'procured ■ In' some manner’ best known to yourself—’ ‘Enough,'elri’ he ejaculated, placing his bach against the door; you have shown yourself In possession of a secret the. custody of which may prove danger* oust’ ‘I am not unprepared for your threat,’ I replied. ‘ln the first place I. did not come here unarmed; In,the next, I have prepared a full written statement of the facts to which I have alluded, with in formation besides, of my present visit to yourself. This paper will be delivered to the Mend to whom It Is directed,ifnless within an hour I reclaim It from the mes senger, who had been Instructed for that ..length of time to retain It.’ Ijld face grew livid. His frame quiv ered with mingled, feat and rage, and his eyes gleamed like, those of a wild beast at bay. ‘What Is your purpose?’ he exclaimed, in a voice hoarse with suppressed pas- sion. ‘To keep your secret while you live,’ I answered, ‘on one*condition.’ ‘Name It.’ ‘That you write Instantly to Julia Par sons, renouncing all pretensions to her hand, and absolutely withdrawing your proposal of marriage.’ After a moment’s pause he seated him self at his desk; and hastily penned a brief note, which he submitted for my inspection. It was quite satisfactory. • ‘Be so good as to seal and address it,’ I said. He did so. •I will see that It is delivered,’ I re marked, taking it up and bowing myself out. When I met Geo. Dickson that even ing bis old college look had come back. He had great news to tell me. The nex,t thing was to take me to see Julia, and it is needless to tell that a happy marriage followed ndt long after. * and was killed in an encounter with the; Spaniards. DP VESUVIUS. A Tonrist’S Experience—A Cliorlstocd 11- luslou-IU Cast and Its nestrnotlon. ‘lt is erupting, sir,’ said an American to me as we stood before the door of, a hotel, and soft was. During the whole' day a thin column of smoke issued fromj the summit, and at night a red-hot river seemed to be pouring, down its side.: .‘My dear,’ said Ito my wife, ‘we must do Vesuvius.’ So yesterday we started; by the train for Pompeii. ' The modern town of that name consists of half a dozen houses, three of- which are inns. The guides to the mountain are found near the gate leading into the an-: dent .Pompeii. They are twelve-In number and are under the supervision of a Government official. At 3P. M; each mounted upon a horse, with a guide on a third, and a youth following us to make himself generally useful. Louisa and I started from the Hotel Diomede. Pot the first hour the path led through vine yards, for the second, hour it went over the lava almost straight up the moun tains. It seems to be the mission of Neopolltans to teach the world what can be got out of a horse. Along all the roads in the vicinity' of Naples, the moat wretched looking screws toll merrily along, up hill, and down behind them heavily laden market carts; with often as many as twenty men and women perched indiscriminately upon them. An English horse would have declined at once to have faced the path of the mountain. Our horses reached the base of the cone without turning a hair, and seemed to like it. Here we dismounted, and were Immediately as sailed by a half-naked crew • of porters and speculators. One held a bottle; to my lips, and urged me to drink a little wine in order to gain strength enough to reach the summit. A chair was pro duced7in“whlohLoulsa was- invlted to seat herself, in order to be carried by four beaters. A strap was put round my waist by two worthies, who began to haul me forward. In vain I appealed to the guide to free us from these nuisances.— He played into their hands, and insisted , that no one ever bod, could, or would get np the mountain unassisted. Find-' Ing that I was Inexorable, an appeal was then made to my affections. Would I, I was asked, for a paltry twenty-five francs, the price of the chair, risk the health of my wife? Money can always begot, observed a moralist, health once lost can never be restored. Louisa, how-, ever who rather prides herself on her pede’strlanlsm. and who thinks more of twenty-five francs than I do, scorned the idea of the chair; so on foot we star', ed. the guide sulkily making reflections upon the stinginess of Englishmen, and our tormentors following us. The cone of Vesuvius is certainly not easy walk ing. If 1* almost perpendicular, and, as ills mainly made up of ashes, one slips, back two steps for every three that one, takes. Each time Louisa stopped for a moment to rest, the chair was invitingly thrust before her, while at every false step which I made, a strap was dangled before me, and I was Invited to lay hold of It Women have more pluck than men, and ! confess that several times I should have grasped the strap had I not before me the example of Loplaa, every few minutes sternly declining the chair. Oneby one our friends tailed off, agd af- VOL. 58.-HO. 36. ter climbing, scrambling and slipping, for an hotir, wo triumphantly stood upon the summit. Jdy notion of a volcano—a most unscientific one, no doubt—has al ways been of a vast lake of molten lava, perpetually seething and boiling. I Was awakened from this delusion by the guide pointing to a small hole, about six feet in diameter, and saying. ‘That Is the small crater.’ A few' steps farther On we came upon the edge of a basin of ashes, with a hole about thirty feet In diameter at the bottom. ‘That,’ he said, ‘ls the large crater.’ I sat down disgusted It was now getting; dart. ‘Come this way,’ said the guide, ‘and you will sep the flames. I did sea through the mist j and smoke a lurid.'llght,- which -I wad ; told was the hole from which the lava is ; now flowing; By this time it was quite dark, and we were almost choked with the fumes of sulphur. The guide began explaining that he had seven, children, all of whom, ho observed, were twins. Louisa became Interested In these do mestic details, add would have sat listen ing to them for.an hour, but It seemed to me about time to thlnk,of getting down. 1 The guide: took ljaulsa by the atm ■ and , said, ‘Take long steps and stick your ■ heels well Into the cinders.’ He then ; disappeared from my view Into the dark- ; ness with the wife of my bosom. I fol- ; lowed as fast as I could. Never, no never did I experience a more disagreeable sensation than going down that mpun- ' tain of cinders. Every step I took, al though X dug my heels Into the cinders, • j I thought that I was going head over : heels down some fearful abyss. Every . few minutes the mountain was lit up by ; a flash of lightning, which enabled me , vaguely to, distinguish the guide and ; Louisa far below me, sticking their, heels , too Into the cinders. At last wo reached , the bottom. The boy who had left with the horses had lit a small lantern, other- ' wise we should never have found them, ; ‘We had.better,’ said the guide, ‘take a 1 shortcut, as It will rain soon.’ The abort , cut seemed to me a porpentiicular cut. Why the horses did not roll over I can- \ not Imagine. It was too dark to see what i they were- doing, but as far as I could distinguish, my feet were almost on a level with my horse’s ears. Just before , we got to the bottom-of the mountain It came on to rain' In torrents, and, wet to the skin, we took refuge In a small pot- . house, where we ordered wine, which the father of the twins drank. Torches were then lit, and In another hour we reached the Hotel Diomede, tired, stiff and drenched, and. turned; into bed, but, not to sleep. I soon heard the horrid buzz which heralds the approach of a . mosquito, and while my upper man was , attacked by those vile Insects I felt that my lower man was becoming the pasture of fleas. These creatures, as soon as It was light, were succeeded by a legion of ’ flies, who prevented me even then from sleeping by setting ou my nose. The blue'shy, the azure sea, the warm sun, ■ the balmy breezes of Naples, Its orange groves and Its mountains are all very , well In their way; but, as a matter of, ohelcft. J ; perhaps a shade worse, where the beau- 1 ties of nature are not so striking, but where one Is not bitten by fleas and gnats all night, and tickled by flies all day.—■ As for these latter Insects, I do wish that one of those persons who believe that | everything having life is created for a; purpose would tell me of what use they; are. l oan forgive a gnat or a flea, or even a bug, for they torment one In or der to feed, but flies are the natural ene mies of mankind—their, whole object In, life seems to be to annoy the human, race. One is taught at. school that Nero when a boy used to kill them,and that as a necessary consequence, later in life be killed his mother. For my part,.! for-, give him many of his crimes, for having passed bis childhood In destroying these noxious. vermin. On the whole, If I might venture a suggestion to those who are thinking pf ascending Vesuvius, it would be don’t. It does not nay the trouble. From a distance the mountain Is a fine object, particularly when there is an eruptloh ; but to go up It is much like going behind the scenes of a theatre. The illusion Is destroyed, and after sev eral hours’ toll, all one sees are two or’ three holes emitting smoke in a heap of, cinders—a sight about as interesting as the chimney of a manufactory.— Naples Letter to London Sews. HAWTHORNE AMD THE “SCARLET UTTER." Daring tl>e whole winter when the ‘Scarlet Letter’ was being written he seemed very much depressed and anx ious. ‘There was a knot in his forehead all the time,' Mrs, Hawthorne said, but she thought it-was,from some-pecuniary anxiety, such as sometimes effected that .little househoid. One evening he came to her and said he had written something which ho wished to read aloud; it was worth very little, but as It was finished he might as well read It. He read aloud all that evening; but as the romance was left unfinished when they went to bed. not a word was then said about It on either. side. He always disliked, she said, to have anything criticized until the whole had been read. He read a second ever nlng, and the concentrated exottemenlt hud grown so great that she could scarce ly bear It. At last It grew unendurable'; In the midst of the scene, near the end. of the book, where Arthur Dlmmsdale meets Heater and her child In'the forest, Mrs. Hawthorne fell from her low stool upon the floor, pressed her hands upon her ears, and said she could hear no ■ more. Hawthorne put down the manu script and looked at her In amazement., •Do you really feel it so much ?’ ho sold; ‘then there must be something In It.' — He prevailed on her to rise and to hear the few remaining chapters of the ro mance. To those who know Mrs. Haw thorne’s Impressible nature, this remin iscence of her’a will have no tinge of eX-, aggeratloh, but will appear very oharao -terlstlo; she had borne to the utmost the strain of her emotions before yielding., The next day, she said, the manuscript, was delivered to Mr. Fields,‘and the next morning ho appeared early at; the; door, and, on being admitted, caught Up her boy In his arms, saying: ‘ You splen did little fellow, do you know what : a father you have?’ Then he ran up stairs to Hawthorne’s study, telling her as bo went that ho land I think Mr. Whipple) ! had set up all night to read It. and bad come to Salem as early as possible In We ‘ morning. She did not go up stairs, but Bates tot ’ Aj>VEBTia*MKNTB win bo m»ert€d at Ten Centd er lino for the first Insertion and five ccn a porllnpfor each subsequent Insertion. Quar terly, half-yearly, and yearly advertisement* in erted &t r liberal redaction on the above rates. Advertisements should be accompanied by tho Cash. When sent without any length.ol Unio specified for publication, they will be continued until ordered ont and onargedaocordlngly JOB PRINTING. ClA&na,Hawdbllls, onumiAß*, and every ptb or description of Job and GAbd Printing. .aoon her husband came down, with fire in bis eyes, and walked about the room a differentia an. I have hesitated whether to print this brief narrative. Yet every thing which Illustrates the creation of a great literary work belong? to the world. How It would deligfa t us all if the Sbaheus peare societies were to bring to light a description like this of the very first reading of ‘Macbeth’ or ‘Hamlet I* To me.it la somewhat the same thing to have got bo near to the birth hour of tho ‘Scarlet Letter.’— Atlantia. Monthly. <©W»b anfc lilEErfor repentance^-tough beef. ■ The torch hymen—The domestic match. Ttttc beat place for the blind—The sea side. The vegetable for hangmen—The .artichoke. Oregon has ah office-holder named virtue^ , Mtt.t,^jlbw—yngeS 6l the..factory girls. Coming to grief—meeting trouble halfway. An ounce of wisdom is worth a pound ofshot. ■ Cool, proceedings—an ice, man elop ing with a nice girl. - ‘Lords of creation’ —a batch of now peers. How to overcome your sorrows— Strike one of your own sighs. . Both waterman and wild Indian, feather their skulls. The ready-money system—Done or be done. Some men get their barrel of beer OB tick, and leave it' to settle for itself. Why is flirtation like plate powder? Because it brightens up spoons. How to prevent your wife scolding yeti ? Don’t marry. Young people grow most in love. It increases their sighs wonderfully. Who pays the highest pricei for a home ? The woman who marries for one, A Detroit wedding was ‘postponed’ by an affidavit handed in by n discard ed lover. ‘Figures won’t.lie.’ Won’t they?— Does a fashionable womans’a flgure tell the truth? A man’s wife is his best lawyer, hi best counsellor, his best judge, hie beet adviser, and also thecheapest and moat reasonable. ‘Our children will have immense tax on their hands,’ said a gentleman. ‘Oh, horrible!’ exclaimed. an elderly lady, ‘what a blessing we have nailson ours.’ „ for murdering his shrewish wife, sor rowfully remarked on the gallows: ‘I led her to the halter and now she has led me to the ’alter.’ A Nebraska married man, who eloped with a young girl, was pursued, knocked down, beaten and retaken by his Indignant wife. He has gone out of the’elopement business. ‘Gbrty, my dear,’, said a teacher to one of her pupils, ‘you have been a very good little; girl, to-day.’ ‘Yes’m, I couldn’t help being good; I had a stiff neck,’ said Gerty, with .perfect serious ness. A thoughtful Danburylady put» lard on the stoop when she wants her husband to stay at homo Of an eve ning! Barring an hour or so devoted to rubbing his back, the time is pleas antly occupied. ■' • A DISTINGUISHED writer sayss There is a passage in the Bible where the girls are .commanded to kiss the men, and that it is in the golden rule: ‘Whatsoever ye woulcTThat men should do unto you, do ye even so to, them.’ ‘Will you have the kindness to hand me the butter before you ?’ said a' gen tleman politely at a tea table to an an cient maiden. ‘X am no waiter; sir.’— •Is that so ?’ I thought from your ap pearance, you had been waiting a long time.’ , An enthusiastic African, who had ‘spent de winter in Jaraaka,’ found it an earthly paradise. He said he could ‘lie abed and putting his arms put de windy, pick oranges,' pine apples, and Jamaica rum right off de trees.’ A loving heart and pleasant counte nance are commodities^ hl'ch'a man should never fall to take home with him. They will best season his food and soften his plllow- It would be a great "thing for a man that his wife and chil dren could truly say of Him, ‘He never brought a frown of unhappiness across his threshold.’ I am dying, Katrln, dying 1 What was fading now grows bright; Change o’er all la sweetly lying— Angels I shall see to-night I l am dying, Igatrin dying ! And X feel—a Heavenly splash— I am dying, Katrln dying ! I am dyeing my moustache 1 An lowa gentleman, who Was In volved In domestic troubles, met with a genuine ‘Job’s comforter’, the other morning. Meeting an old friend, who wasn widower, ho related his troubles to him, and told hltn.he expected to be broken up, as for the sum pf three thou sand dollars alimony. 1 ‘Well, said the widower. ‘l’ll wait and see how she comes out, and If she succeeds I’ll go for her.’ THE New Bedford Mercury reports that there are persons In that city who make a practice of visiting stores, ■ and 'whenever' they find'a muff lying on the couptir, left thero.'by mer.’ takolt and 'jvalk; off,' leaving an Old one In ! exchange.; ; A gentleman spoke the other day ofeighfdr nine ca ses of this nature thatiM'Jconie to-his knowledge. Ladies inuet Switch their muffs when they go shopping.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers