The American Volunteer PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, John B. Bratton, OFfIOESO UTS MARKET SQ UAJIE . I ■ Tfiaira.— Twodollarsper year'if paid strictly jn advance. Two Dollars and Fifty Cents If paid wltMn three months, after Which Three Dollars will bo charged. These terms will bo rigidly adhered to In every Instance. No sub scription discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. fottial. TO THOSE ABOUT TO MASRT. That certain Xlltld hypocrisies are sometimes practised, upon each other by young ladles and gentlemen In the matrimonial mood Is scarcely a matter of doubt'? bat the appended simple uarratlve of one of the devices by which an ar * dent maiden may bo able to preserve an appear ance of invincible amiability before her lover— ftlthpugh given upon the authority' (partially revised) of one “ VV. C. Cfc.” In the Rochester Wton-Hwoms AIAIO3T INCKEDIULE. When Jacob courted Mary Jane, A loss without a fault ho thought her, And ov’ry evening, fair'or rain, Attired in all his best he sought her. tilie's honest, true, and kind, said ho, ABsho Is pretty In heP features; And If sho’U only marry mo, We'll be the happiest of creatures. Ilia parenis, hearing how ho felt, And noticing his eager flurry, Said • , Bpn, be cautious. She won’t melt, Don’t‘be in such a precious hurry, Her family aro not renowned For being quite as meek as Moses, Ami some who married in It found No end of thorns among their roses.” • I’ll try her temper,” Jucob crleil, ■Jaull spite iuvouted tun e'er a doztfu tricks, he’d tried, ills own good nature Boro repented, Tlie more be leased, to make her mud,. lublead of vixen spunk revealing, She only seemed us meekly sad .•\s comes of wounded lender fooling. .No longer seeing room to doubt Tliutshe was mild beyond expression, Our .Jacob brought the question out, And she surrendered at discretion. In proper course the wedding came, With orange blooms aud tears and’luuglite; A bridal tour to crown the same, Aud pretty cottage "homo thereafter* lint all, alas, for Jacob’s peace! ISro yet the honeymoon was over, Ills Mary’s temper broke the lease Ue thought ho had on life In clover. From being gentle as of old, Aud shedding tears when he’d oirenri he) fslie turned Into a perfect scold, As ugly as llii; Witch of Kndor ! Astmuuli-d at lire fearful change, Aud wtmrt’rlug liow hh had been blinded, The hapless man could not arrange The question’s answer as he minded; Till at her father’s house, one day He put the query, quite emphatic: “Uow did you take mo in, that way!’’ .Said she, "I'll show you. In the attic.’ - Aud then they climbed the garret stairs, Till, standing under beams unnumbered, The lady showed, with mocking airs, A central post, with braces cumbered; ••You see it's nearly worn in twain. Or seems to be, with weight it’s carried; But with my teeth I gnawed the .grain,’ A fortnight, just, before wo married!” •• Whenever you would tease mo most, • And’then had gone, and left me beaming, I used to come and gnaw that post. To keep myself from raging screaming! 1 knew you’d never know your mind, If temper I should show forbade ydu.” .Said Jacob, “that, my dear,-was kind; But don’t I wish some other had you!” IPsdlaiMii#. THE COUNTERFEITERS. SAM STIOKNEY’S DISCOVERY. “ Well, this Is getting rough!” ex claimed Sam Stickney, in no very pleasant tone, as he plodded wearily on through the thickly-falling show;— “ rough enough, by gracious! I would not have come if I’d known it was go ing to be like this—l bet a dollar I” He tramped on, scarcely able to dis tinguish, through the fast approaching darkness and the ever falling mass of great white flakes, the narrow path leading from the forest, in which he had Been hunting all day, to theQrun dyville road. But after half an hour more of this weary'work, Sam found himself, to all appearances, as deeply in the woods as ever; and no signs of the road could be distinguished on either hand, and even the path seemed now .to have disap pcaied. “Confound it all!” he grumbled, as ho rested for a moment in the snow the heavy gun which ho carried, to ease his aching shoulder, “ confound it all 1” What am I going to do? I can’t find the road, and it’s so plaguy dark that a fellow can’t tell whether he’s going right or wrong !” 1 As he thus spoke, gazing desparingly about him, his'eye mot a faint light, which made itself visible off to the left, through the tall pines. ’‘Wonder what that is?” muttered Stickney, as ho gazed at it. “1m afraid I’ve lost my way, for there ain’t no house within a mile of where I ought to be. ' Guess I’ll push ahead, and try for a place to put up. for I can’t stand this kind of thing much longer.” He plodded on, now striking his foot on some buried rock, and now sinking half up to hip middle in some unseen hollow, until, at length, he reached a pair of bars, on the other side of which he could distinguish a small house, standing alone in the midst of a clear ing- , It looked lonely :enough, surrounded, as it was, on all sides by gigantic pine?, through which the] cold tvi'nd mpaned and murmured with ghostly sound'; and, had the place, been uhknown'to, him, in all probability, Sara Stloktiey, who was none of the bravest, would’ have been by, far too much afraid to. pursue the coarse he did—leap over the bars, run across the clearing, and knock' loudly .at the little side door. Yes, Sam knew this house well; and it would have, been a bard , matter to have found a house, man, woman or child, within five miles of Grundy ville, which he did not know; for Sam bore the reputation—and deservedly, top—of being the village meddler. He was too lazy to work, although he would wonder through the forest, from early dawn until, nightfall, hunting; and when not in the woods, there was one place where Sam was alwoys to be found—sitting on the barrels of the country store. He knew all that was going on. in Grundyville, and it was generally ad mitted that what Sam Stickney dldnot know about the affairs of the towns people, could not, In any sense of the word, be worth knowing. If the bottom fell out of Mrsi Deacon Jones’ pickle pot, and its carefully pre pared contents became a total loss; if Mrs, Parson Smith took two quarts of . hdlk a day (what on earth can she do Ihf Imeriftin Bilitlru BY JOHN B. BRATTON. with it?); or whether the great Merchant took the eight or the nldte o’clock train for the city ; or rich Moneybags never gave his horse a sin gle quart bf was alwaya sdra to know particulars, and a great deal more besides. But there was one thing, however, which had puzzled him for several months past, and this was nothing more nor less than the occupation of the Hol inshead family, who had lately come to live in the Blakely house—the Very' pile now before him. They, were not fanners, for, the land which old Blakely had so carefully tilled, had not known the spade since his death. They did no business in the city—did not do anything in town. Yes, Sam knew this place well, for many had been his prowlmgs around the lit tie house, in vain attempts to discover the occupation of its inmates. No wonder, then, that he hailed with delight this golden opportunity to ob tain free admittance inly) the mysterious family. His knock was answered by a plainly dressed woman, of more than middle ago, whom Sam recognized as Mrs. Holinshead herself. “,I’vo lust my way in. the storm, ma’am,” ho began. “ Can T— r ” “ Oh, come in ! comq in !” exclaimed the woman, cordially. 11 It’s an awful night, to be sure. Como right up to the ilro here, ami warm yourself.” . Slicknoy accepted. this cheerful invi tation, and approached the stove, stood liis gun in a corner, and began to ro- move his wrappings, at the same time easting sidelong glances around the room, iiml at the other members of the family. These wore four in number; an oid man—Mr. Holinshead, Sr.; a young man—Mr. Holinshead, Jr. ; besides a girl of sixteen and a boy of ten, ’ They all spokp pleasantly to their guest, and when supper was ready, in-' vited him to join them, which invita tion, it is needless "to say, Sam accepted without reluctance. The meal over they resumed their places around the lire, Mr, Holinshead, at tin same time, inviting Stickney to pass die night with them. - “ You ■ better stay, Mr-r urged. “ It’s.a long mile to Grundy vllle, and we’ve got plenty of room.’’ “ Thank you,” replied Sam. " Guess I will stop, for Its,a’ bad night, and a long road, as you sayand he mental* ly added: “Perhaps I may find out something or other before I leave.” The evening passed pleasantly, until about half-past eight, when Mr. Hol inshead, remarking that his guest must be very tired, lighted a candle and of fered to show him to his room. This was not all what Bam wanted,; for he had been trying, though unsuc cessfully, to draw from the elder man the nature of his -business, and had secretly resolved not to go to bed until his curiosity was gratified; but the suggestion was made so like a com mand that it was plain his company was no longer desired, so he could not vyell refuse. Following hig host, who went before him with the candle, he was conducted to a small room directly over the one in which they had been sitting. Setting the candle down upon a table, the old man bade him, good-night, and descended the stairs Left to himself, Sam, who had no notion of going to bed, began to look about him for some means by which he cmdcJj,discover what was going on in the room he had just led. The house. was a roughly finished concern, uuplastered, and full of cracks and chinks, and our inquisitive friend had little difficulty in finding a knot hole, through which- lie could plainly see everything which transpired be neath him. Hastily extinguishing the light, he stretched himself flat upon the, floor, and applying his eye to the knot hole, obtained a full view of the room bo- “ Now wo must hurry up, and be right smart, if wo. want Jell' to get off by seven to-morrow,” he heard the old man say, “ All rigid father,” was the son’s re ply. “Wo can do it, if we work sharp, now that man’s out of the way.” “Oh, ho!” thought Sam, with a grin and a chuckle, “ I aia’tso far out of the way as you think 1” and ho continued to watch their movements with more curiosity than before. The old woman bustled around, stirr ed the fire, brought out a great bass ket tle, and put it on the stove; while the daughter took from the closet a num ber of empty bottles, and began to wash them at the sink. Holinshead, senior," now brought from the closet some bundles of herbs, which, after pulling apart, he threw in to! the kettle, pouring on top of them a decoction from a Jug his wife handed him; while Hplinabead, junior, ’ disappeared for a' ’ moment;' and then returned lugging a 'sizeable iron ma chine, the use of which Said was utter ly at a loss to imagine.' “ Well, if this don’t beat all natur!” he ejaculated, under his breath. “What in the name of all that’s lovely are they up to, any way?” “ You stir the kettle, father,” said the wife, banding the old man an enor mous iron spoon. “You ’tend to the boiling, and Eddy and I will cut the papers to print the money on.” “ The money,” thought ,the listener, alive.with excitement; “print the money; then they must IVb counterfeit ers. Ifhere'ainltttregulargol”'.’ ; ’ His suspicions, were soon confirmed, for the oldest son, after working a few moments at.the machine, exclaimed: “There, now I’m ready; let’s have some of that paper. What shall they bo to-night, father, hundreds or fif ties?” ’ '' Hundreds, I guess,” was the reply; ley seem to go better.” “Hundred’sl go bettor 1” repeated Sam, as tie ported through the hole.— “ They aro counterfeiters, as sure as my name is Stickney! Oh, ain’t this luck i What does it say on the bills : * Conn torfeltlng this note is felony, punisba : ble by five thousand dollars fine.’ And the informant gets half 1 Oh, if I could only get to the vil logo and call out old Biggs, the constable, to catch them at it, my fortune would then be made I Twenty-five hundred dollars! OhJ glory!” ' “ j He; looked once more. Yes, they i were printing money, sure enough; for [every 1 time the young man tanked the : handle of his machine, out came a piece of paper, which, oven at[ that distance! [Sara could see bore a. strong resem bianco to a treasury note. i “We’ll be through by midnight,”. said the old man, as he stirred the mix tare ; “ that is if we are not inter rupted.” ■ “ But, bygracioiis! you will be inter rupted !” chuckled Sam, as he raised himself softly to his feet; “ and Sam Stlckney’s the boy to do It! They’re making money, sure as a gun; but I wonder what ail those bottles are for, nhd the stuff in the kettle too? Some thing to do with it, I’ll wager! Twenty five hundred dollars ! That’s 'more monby than I ever had in ray life!’ I’m off for Qrundyville! I’ye found them out at last—l knew I should !” Fortunately; for his plans, he had brought his hat and outer wrappings in to the chamber with him ; and hurried ly patting them on, Sam crept to the window, which hb opened, and seeing that the distance to the ground wasnot great, quietly swung himself out, and dropped in the soft snow beneath. Scrambling to his feet he ran across the little clearing, and made for the road, saying; as he did so: “ I’ll leave my gun till I come back, with the constable ! , Ha 1 ha !” , \nd making the best speed possible in the storm, bo at length reached Grnndyville, just as (he bell in the church steeple rang out ton. Sam had formed his plans on the road, and an hour had scarce elapsed when a party of excited villagers, headed by Stickney and old Eiggs, the constable, might havej>een seen riding, at n rate as possible in the storm, toward the Blakely House.” “ We’ll taka the wtyole lot of ’them,” cried Saba, os they rode along. “Half the fine for the fine who informs!” Ain’t that so, Riggs ?” “So they say,”replied Riggs; “but, I say; Sam, yon musn't forget your friends who helped yon catch .’em, when yon get all that money ?” “ Not 11” exclaimed the delighted Stickney. “'You all know me, don’t yon, boys?” “That’s, so!” replied the others, “ Sam’s liberal, whatever else you may say of him.” - At length they reached the clearing, and fastening their horses, the men stole cautiously up toward the house— the snow rendering their approach in audible to those within; “ Get in line,” whispered Stickney, “get In line, boysi ahd wo'I! burst in the; door and catch ’em at it, before they have a chance to budge I” The men obeyed; and throwing themselves in a body upon the light door, had no difficulty in bursting It in, and the excited party rushed Into‘the room, creating more than a little stir in the Holinsheod family. The old woman, who was in the act ■” he of lifting the great kettle from, the stove, uttered a cry of. terror, dropping at the same instant her burden, and spilling its boiling contents bn the leg of the unhappy old constable, who had been foremost to enter the room. With a yell of pain, the old man siozed his scalded limb in both hands, and began to dance round like one pos- sessed . “ What’s the meaning of all this?’ loudly demanded father and son in clio rus. . “ It moans we’ve trapped you at last, you villains! you counterfeiters!” cried Sam, who, though very willing to shout, thought it prudent to keep be hind the village doctor, who had ac companied the expedition. “ Yes.” exclaimed another, “ we’ll cook your goose for you, old boy! Se cure,the young one, doc, we’ll take care, of the old follow 1” “Yes, wo’ll- take care of him!” shouted Sam, keeping valiantly in the background, while the others seized the old man, The doctor made for Jeff, the son, and, as he did so, stumbled over Biggs, who was still dancing around the room, hoidingou to his leg, howling most lu gubriously—and measured his length upon the floor. As ha picked himself up, his eye caught sight of one of the hundred dol lar bills, which bad fallen from the press. : “ Is Una your counterfeit money ?” he cried, In a loud voice, holding up the bill. “Yes, that’s it I” answered Sam,, lusr tily—“ that’s it, doctor.” ' The doctor burst into a loud laugh, while the men whohpd been struggling with the two Holinsheada turned their: attention to wardhim ■ at once. - . “ Boys,’we’ve been fqoled I” said the doctor, loudly. “.Listen”—and'he read froin the bills is follows !' 1 - 1 ‘ ‘ "Pay ihe bearer, on receipt of one honored cent**. one bottle of Hollngsbead’s Celebrated Patent Hyperborlan Hair BejavCnaton ’ Augustus HoLtMoaHftAn, Pres’t, “ jEICi-KBfIOJT UOLOiaaHKAI), 8«0’y« The worthy doctor burst into such a fit of laughing that he,almost weht in to convulsions. ' ‘ “Bold me !—hold mo, some one 1” ha cried, the tears tolling down his ebooks. , “.What a. , hoax I ho, what a hoax!” The men all Joined in the laughter hxcept the luckless' Bam 1 , who looking crost-fuilen and -: chagrined,’wasjuat about to sneak 'from the house, when the. doctor cried but: “Catch ffim, somebody). Don’t let him get off).‘He’s made fools of ns, and wo mdat pay him for it I" “What,'this fellow?" exclaimed the old man, coming forward and looking at Sam. “ Why, I took the viper in, warmed him, sheltered him, gave him a supper I I thought he was up stairs in bed now I Is he the cause of all this disturbance?” CARLISLE. PA., THURSDAY, MAY 30, 1872. “Ho is,” replied the doctor. “He came into town about an hour ago, and routed .ns all out In tho storm, saying he had discovered you printing coun terfeit money I” < ■ “ I mhnufueture this hair restorer,” answered the old man, “ and pat .one of ,these imitation bills in each package as an advertisement. I thought when I bought this place, that I had found o quiet spot, where X could carry on my fetidness without annoyance; but it seems I was mistaken.” “ But you shall find yourself not mis taken,” spoke up the doctor. “No one shall interfere with you again Mr. Hol inshead. It’s all the fault of this med dlesome fellow here that you were dis turbed to-night. Ijet’s roll him in the snow boys I” he added, turning to the others; “we owe him something for making fools of us I” “ Good I” cried Biggs, very loudly, “ and give him an extra roll to pay for my scalded leg, while you’re about It!” And, all aiezing hold of the luckless Sam, they hurried him from the house. It was a sorry-looking figure that crept into Sticknoy’s dwelling, late that night, and a still sorrier one that might have been seen, any day during the following week, with its head tied up, hovering over the kitchen fire. I am sorry to say that Sam’s adven ture with the counterfeiters did him little good, for ho .was soon seen again hanging round his old haunt, tho vil lage store, and ho bears to this day, and, probably, will bear for all time lo come, iiis old reputation—the meddler of Grundyville! Educating Gibls Educating girls for household duties ought to be con sidered as necessary as instruction in reading, writing, and orithraetic, and it is tho household surroundings which effect most largely tho happiness or misery of domestic life. If tho wife knows how to "keep house,” if she understands how to “set a table,” if she has learned liow things ought to he cooked, how beds should be madO, how carpet should be swept, how furniture should be dusted, how the clothes should be repaired, and turned, and altered, and renovated ; if she knows how purchases can be made to the best advantage, and understands the laying in of provisions* how to make them go, farthest and last longest; If she appre ciates the importance of system order, tidiness, and the quiet management of children and servants, then she knows how to make a little heaven of home how to wiii her children from the street; how to keep her husband from . the club house, the gambling-table and wine cup. Such a family will be trained to social respectability, to busi ness success, and to efficiency and use fulness in whatever position may be alloted to them. It may be safe to gay that not one girl in ton In out large towns and cities enters into married life who has learn ed to bake a loaf of bread, to purchase a roast, to dust a painting, to sweep a carpet, or to cut and fit and make her own dress. How much the perfect knowledge of these things bears upon the thrift, the comfort and health, of families, may be conjectured, but not calculated by figures. It would be an immeasurable advantage to make a be ginning by attaching a kitchen to every school in the nation, and have lessons daily in the preparation of all the ordinary articles of food and drink for the table; and how to purchase thorn in the ■nnrkef'ti). tho best advantage, with’ the result of a large saving of money, au increase of comfort, and higher health in every family in the land. A Wipk’s Poweu.—The power of a wife for good or evil is irrosistable.— Homo must be the seat of happiness, or it must be forever ■ unknown. A good wife is to a man wisdom, courage and strength ; a bad one, is confusion, weakness ami despair. No condition is hopeless to man where his wife pos sesses firmness, decision and economy. There is no outward prosperity which can counteract indolence, extravagance and folly at home. No spirit can long endure bad domestic influence. Mon is strong, but his heart is not adamant. He delights in enterprise and action, but tqsustain him ho needs a tranquil mind; and especially if he is an Intel lectual man with a whole heart, he needs his moral forces in the conflicts of life. To recover liiq composure, homo must be a place of comfort.— There his soul renews its strength and goes forth with fresh vigor to encounter the l.abor and trouble of life. But If at home he finds no rest, and is there met with, bad temper, suilenness, jealousy or gloom, or is assailed by complaints and censure, hope vanishes and sinks into despair. Such is tho case with too many who, It might seem, have no conflicts or trials of life; for such is women’s power. Domesticated Buffalo s Seine experiments have been, tried crossing the bufikloes wi th domestic cattle, and the, result is highly satisfactory, a breed of animals being produced which reta ins many of the valuable properties of|both breeds. The animals are large and strong, the chief objection to them being that no ordinary fence stops them for a moment, and that they love the water so much that they will swim and sport in it even when it is full of float ing ice. We have heard of a cow and coif whose love for athletic exercises was such that they would jump from a bank ten feet high into deep water, when there was on easy path close at hand. These personal peculiarities aro drawbacks to introduction of buffalo blood into the veins of family pets; but on the other hand, when properly car ed for, these animals make most deli-i clous beef, and their hides, when soft tanned, are as much superior to the buffalo robe of commerce as wool Is to shoddy. The writer saw the pelt of the cow mentioned above. It was much larger than any buffalo robe which ho ever saw before, and was covered with a mat of soft curly hair—there being none of the long shabby hair ordinari ly soon. Destiny. Three rases, wau as moonlight, ami wolghoi . down Each with a loveliness us with a crown, ;]frooped in a florist’s window in n town. Tbo first a lover bought. It lay at rest. Like snow on snow, that night, oh Beauty’s breast. The second rose, as vorglnol and fair, Shrunk In the tangles of a harlot’s hair, The third, a widow, with now grief made wild. Shut in the Icy palm of her dead child. OTA’S "PRESENT, iao little usurper, lam determined to be rid of her, Fanny I ” ** • , “What has she done, Belle,” said Fanny Lorimer, Belle's sister. “ Bone!” exclaimed Belle. “Is it not too much for me to look calmly on, and Nina Bayne, a poor girl, attracting the attention which I thought my right?” “ Whose attention in particular, pray?” “ Why, Mr, St. John’s, of course. He is the only one in our set whom T care for.” “Well, if he prefers Nina, I* should say you are very silly to make such an ado about what you cannot help,” said Fanny. This enraged Belle, and fora momen she. said nothing, but bit her Ups in am ger. Belie and Fanny Lorimer were the only children of Judge Lorimer. a gen tleman of wealth. Their home way in Meldon, a beautiful town ou the Dela ware..' About a year previous, Nina Dayne, the orphan child of Judge Lori mer’s sister, had been received into his home—but not into the hearts of all Us inmates. The Judge had been a father to Nina since her own father's death, and when her mother died, had taken her as bis own child. After her grief bad somewhat subsided, Nina bad been happy in her uncle’s home, until she found that her aunt aud Belle felt her presence irksome, and they looked upon her as an intruder. Had it not been for her unole and Fanny, she would have boon truly miserable. Mrs. Lorimer knew that her husband would bo much displeased if aware of her true feelings concerning Nina, so kept them careful ly concealed, instructing Belle to do Ibo same. The latter had: done so, until the morning when our story opens. Then, for the first time, had Fanny been in-, formed of her sisters feelings about Nina. A few months before, Norton St. John, a gentleman who had spent some years in traveling, bad returned to bis home near Meldon. What surprised his friends was that he came home without a wife. Beport bad given him.one sometime be fore bis arrival; but when he actually came, as be went away, heart-whole, the* gossips set him down os a confirmed bachelor, for had be not been all over the world? Had be not seen the most beautiful woman of bis time ? And did be find none to suit him? Where then could oner be found for this very particu lar Mr. St. John? He, little knowing all that was said, was one day surprised by a bantering remark of Judge Lari mer's, and replied in a manner which told the Judge that in his opinion mar riage was a subieoc pot to be trifled with, and that he was in no hurry to select a wife. This came to Belle’s ears. She bad been much admired by gentlemen, for she was beautiful and talented; but she had never admired any ope as she now did . Mr. St. John ; aud when he paid her some little attention, tilut which a chivalrous gentleman cannot help of fering the most beautiful and attractive women, 1 belle's heart was much elated at the thought that she would win the heart which had been proof against the attractions ol so many. As mouths rolled on tho pleasant aw tamn passed; winter's gaieties com menced, and Beile enjoyed often the so cimy of Mr. St. John ; but bis attentions to her were not any more pointed than from the first. This somewhat surprised her, but as be did uot seem to be more attracted toward auy ouo else, she felt secure in winning him for herself alone. Her cousin was kept in the back ground as much as possible, and this was easi ly done. Nlua was still in .mourning for her mother. Her uncle was often absent on ' business, and suppbsed she enjoyed nil the pleasures in which her cousins par ticipated. Nina's tastes did uot lead her into gay society; she was well satisfied to remain secluded with her books. She often took walks in the autumn, and these she enjoyed. She bad been accus tomed in her mother’s life-time, to visit tfie sick, and carry little necessities to cheer them, and she bad found several families in Meldon, to whom, without the knowledge of the family at her un cle’s, she bad become a ministering an gel. Thoughts of what she could do to gladden the lives of her poor friends, of learning all that she could from the ma ny books in the library of her uncle, filled her heart much of the time; but she often lunged for human sympathy from those of her class. One amuse ment she was fond of, that was skating. Her cousins never engaged In this sport, so she went to tho pond, near her.un cle's, alone. One day as she was walking briskly along, with her skates banging upon her arm, and thinking how pleasant to have with her some of the old compan ions with whom she bad spent so many happy hours, she heard a quick, firm step behind her, and some one just pass ing lifted bis hat. Nina looked up and saw a gentleman whom she had met at her uncle’s once or twice. He had been introduced to her as Mr. Bt. John. .She had not thought much about him, think ing him an admirer of Belle's. She had not noticed that when they were intro duced, he had bent a kind, earnest glance upon her, and when she looked toward him, she saw that, al though be seemed deeply engaged in conversation with her uncle, he turned that same kind look lo her, but us she never saw him after that, until now, she supposed he had forgotten her, and was surprised to see him smile as If acquainted with "her. “ flood morning, Miss Nina," ho said ; “ do you skate?” •• I do, aud am very fond of skating, only it 1“ a Utile dull sometimes alone,” Bub! Nina. “ Then may I have the pleasure of ac companying you to the pond this morn ing?” was Mr. St. John’s response,, Nina looked tip surprised that hoshonld take the trouble to go with her, when she had hoard Belle say that very morn ing, that Mr. St. John was coming up to drive with them, and she wondered what her cousin would think if she knew what had detained him. They had a merry time, and Mr. St. John told Nina that the hour he spent on the Ice was the happiest be had pass ed in a long time. She could not help being still more surprised at this, and wondered if the hours which were pass ed with her cousins were not happier ones. When they returned toward her un cle’s, Nina said with a little smile, “Mr. St. John, I expect you will think very strange of me, but you will excuse me now; I must stop at a house which we are just coming to.” He did not see any house whore a young lady like Nina would be likely to all; only a small tenant house. “ This is the place,” said Nina, I must thank you for the pleasant, time I havp had; good morning.” Mr. St. John lifted his hat, aud held it, while ho said: “ Oho moment, Miss Nina; may t not have tho pleasure of seeing you ofteuer ? J never meet you, or very seldom, ami I am often at your uncle’s.” “ I shall be glad to have you for ray friend, Mr. St* John,” said Nlua “X do not have very many friends here,” aud she gave him her hand, as friends do when, they part. He took her little hand in his, with a .friendly clasp, and as he looked into her clean blue eyes, liefest that he would give much to win for himself tho deep, deep love which lay hidden in their depths. As he left her he resolved, that If it was God’s will* Nina should some day become his wife. Christmas drew near. Great prepara tions were made at Judge Lorimer’s for this happy time. Belle and Funny said they would have the gayest party of the season on Christmas night. It was but a short time before that Belie had notic ed chat Nina came oftener into the par/* lor in the evening; that she seemed to grow more beautiful every day—and .worst of all, that whenever she was talk ing to Mr. St. John and Nina came into the room, his attention, which she claim ed, polite—that bis eyes would follow Nina’s every movement. Supreme jealousy took its place .in the heart of Belle from the moment she first observed this, and her thoughts found vent in the words with which our story opens. Her plans were, that she must in some way get Nina away from Meldon, or Mr. St. John would be lost to her. Now, Judge Lorimer bad an old aunt, who visited his family twice during the year. Shewas very rich, but lived in the most secluded manner in a little vil- lage, about fifty miles from Meldon. Belie thought if she could contrive to send Nina to see this aunt, who bad ta ken a great fancy to Nina, she would then be entirely out of the way. She could'bave danced for joy, when, a few days before Christmas, Judge Lorimer received a letter from Aunt Jane, saying that she felt very lonely and far from well, and fi “ would he send one of the girls to stay a time with her?” When this letter was read, the Judge looked around in the little circle, and be fore any one else spoke, Nina said : “Dear uncle, let me go; you are so kind to me, I should like to do this for you; besides, Belle aud Fanny want to bo here so much now.” “Dear child,” said Judge Lorimer, “you want to be here, too, do you not?" “Uncle,” replied Nina, “ that would give me pleasure, hut I greatly desire that you will let me go to Aunt Jaue.” “Be it so, then ; you are so like your mother, Nina,” and the Judge’s eyes grew dim, as he refneinbered tire sweet Bister of his youth. Belle exclaimed, “ Wbat a good girl you are, Nina!” These were the first words of praise that Belie bad spoken to Nina, and she felt that she was a happy girl to win these from tier proud cousin. That day Nina started with her uncle to visit Aunt Jane. Nina was uot the only , one wto bad made friends with tho poor in Meldon, and Mr. St, John often met her in the cottages where she had been long accus tomed to going. His heart was one of the kindest, and be was delighted to find that the woman he loved, looked upon life as he did ; indeed, the fact that Nina was a true-hearted woman, caring for others’ woes, led him from admiring her sweet face, to love her with all the strength of bis manly heart. Two days before Christmas, Mr. St. John went to see a poor woman, whoso house he was having repaired. As he looked around the little room, his eyes rested upon an open Bible. Tue woman saw to what his look was directed, and said ; “ Ah, sir! many a word of comfort do I find in that blessed book; and if it bad not been for Miss Nina, I might have never read it.” Mr. Bt. John liked to bear Nina spoken of, and as be seemed so attentive, the woman went on. “ Do you know, air, when she will be homo.” “ Has she gone away ?" asked Mr. St John. Yes, sir, two days ago ; but abe came here first, and told me to give some things for Christmas, to two or three people that live near here;” !' Where did she go, do you know?” said Mr- St. John. “ No, air,” replied the woman. Mr. St. John left the bouse in deep thought,and this was what he wondered : “ Where has Nina gone, and why has she left at this time?” . JJe was studying so deeply that he did not see Judge l<orimer, who was return ing home from the depot. - “ Why, my dear man,” said tho Judge, "bow are you ?” "I beg your pardon, air,” said Mr. St John, “ Have you been away?” " Yea, I have just come to-day from Clifton. Nina has gone there, dear child that she is, to stay awhile with an old aunt of mine, her great-aunt. She sent for one of the girls, and Nina, thinking bow Belle and Fanny would be disap pointed about the holidays, begged to go. Will you not go homo with me? You are always suie of a welcome.” “Thank you, not to-day,” replied Mr. Bt. John, as with rapid strides he went on towards Rockdale, his own homo- His one thought was that be would go to Clifton without delay, for living in that place was an old friend of his, who ■ VOL. 58.—N0. 51. wished .for a visit from him. Ho that very afternoon saw him on his way to Clifton, and early the next morning he surprised bis friend, who received him with the old-time love. “ Really I am giad to have you hero, Norton, but did not suppose that I could attract you at this time of the year.” 11 My dear Dauby, you know I am can did, so to tell the truth I have come to Clifton to see another friend, who is visi ting here.” “Ah, ha! alady, perhaps.” “ You are right, and can tell me if there is, near you, a lady related to Judge Lorlmer?” “ That,! can, my dear boy; but have you come to visit her ? She is old enough to be your grandmother.” ” I intend to visit her house, but not particularly to see her.” “Ah, well, I will not pry into your Secret farther, but direct you.” And St. John received the knowledge he desired, and loft his friend with a merry adieu. Ho walked'down the street, and as ho drew 1 near to l.bo house to which ho had been directed, Ue wondered. wUat Niua would aay—how she would receive him. He was admitted by a servant, and waited impatiently fdrNiua’sappearance. Soon a light step came along the hall, and the next moment - Nina stood before him. She , had been surprised to learn that a gentleman wished to see her, and (bought perhaps her uncle had forgotten sometlnug; but the servant would have known the Judge. When she saw Mr. St, John, she ut tered a cry, and sprang forward ; but the next instant remembered, and stopped, while the colorflashed into her face. It told him all, and that he was beloved.— So he just took her in his' arms, saying “ Nina, are you glad to see Die?” ’ tßut Nina could say nothing at.first; she trembled—not with fear—but with joy. At lust she said, “Mr. St. John, how did you know that I was here?” “ Your uncle told mo just at a moment when I was wondering how I should find you.” “Areyou mine, Nina?” Her sweet face was lifted from its hap py resting-place, and the wished-for an swer he read |u her, beautiful eyes. “ I did not flunk that I should have so happy a Christmas,” said Nina. “My darling,” whispered St, John, tenderly, “ I tive'you myselffor a Christ present, and in return I take you to be my own little wife." And there,fell the eweeteet silence up ont he heart! eo united until death. Two happy hearts so truly given to each other. THE TWO ME. BEOWHS. I am Mr. Brown, bu.t I am sorry to say there is another Mr. Brown. It la on ac count of the existence of this other Mr. Brown, that I have lately had so much trouble. I am employed by'one of our largo Philadelphia commercial houses as a ’traveling salesman, and frequently make business visits to the principal cities of our own and adjoining States. Last summer, while on a visit to a neighbor ing city, and stopping at a cosy hotel j there, the following ludicrous incident occurred: On my arrival I registered .my name on the visitors 1 hooks as Mr, Brown.— The landlord’s consequential manner immediately altered to one of deference on reading the name, and f was unex pectedly assigned one of the best rooms in the house,and wasstill moresurprised at mine host going to ray chamber with me, and personally superintending the making of the room tidy and comforta ble. I was not accustomed to having so much attention paid to me by strangers, anil could only attribute it to my good looks and gentlemanly deportment. After the landlord had retired, I seated myself at the table, and begun a letter to my ft lends at home. I hud written bbt a few lines, when .1 was annoyed by a 1 strange buzzing of voices, which seemed to come from the keyhole of the door. I " f« it possible,’’ I said to myself, "that I the residents of Ibis bouse can take such I an interest in my affairs, to go eaves- I dropping after me?” I I walked noiselessly to the door, and I suddenly opening it, X surprised no less I than a dozen Indies and gentlemen, who I woro taking covert glances at me by I turns, through the narrow orifice intend ed for the key. On my unexpected ap pearance at the door, all heat a hasty re- treat into their respective bed chambers. and the Hying spectacles of disappearing skirts and coat-tails, was a scene I shall long remember. '• I could uot Imagine what it could all mean. Why should the landlord be so attentive to ,a stranger, and why should the ladies and gentlemen of the house take such an extraordinary interest in 'tub? But other wonders were to come, X bad scarcely proceeded with my letter ] before X was again interrupted by a knocking at the door. I answered the summous, whan to my intense astonish ment, a beautiful young lady sprang Into my arms, calling me “ papa, dear papa!” “ There must be some mistake, my dear,” Xsaid, “ I am uot your nor any body else’e papa.” Tbe young lady was not dismayed by this declaration, however, but continued to embrace me and claimed me as her paternal relative. What was my surprise, when I again disavowed any knowledge of her, to be assured that she had expected I would disown her, but attributed it to the wild freaks to which I was subject. '• What wild freaks, my dear miss ?” I asked. "Oh, wo have heard of them all," she replied; “ Aunt Laura has well desrlbed your character and peculiarities in her letters. But how Is mamma?” “ My good girl, do you wish to drive me mad ? First you call me papa, and now you ask me about mamma. Who in4be deuce is your mamma?” “Who is she? Why, your second wife, of course, and my step-mother, whom X have never seen; bull am dying to get a look at her.” I was about making an angry answer, aud declaring my claims as a bachelor, when there came trooping Into the room half a dozen little children, who imme diately seized upon the tails of my coat, and the legs of my pants, almost throw ing mo off my feet. “ Who are these?” I cried, in distrac- Rates of Advertising. 11 aq. 1 2sq. pTaq. 14 aq. | o \ 1 W $1 00 (2 00 S 3 yo $4 00 «T 00 $l2 (X) si! m) 2 M 150 ,3 00 '4 00 500 .9 00 1100 20 00 „ 3•• 200 400 500 0 M UOO 10 00 30 00 ? a«• 260 475 575 073 12 60 18 00 32 60 n«• ROO Q5O. 0 50 7GO HOO 20 00 35 00 «.* 860 060 760 860 'JO 60 ■23 60 3760 2m 400 760 850 060 17 60 25 00 43 60 3*‘ 600 860 960 10 50 20 00 SO 00 60 UU 0“ 250 10 00 12 60 16 00 28 00 40 00 76 00 ly 10 00 16 00 20 00 25 00 40 00 76 00 10)00 Twelve lines constitute a square. , For Executors’ and Adm’rs’.-Notices, For Auditor’s Notices, _ r, { *\ For Assignees’ and similar Notices, <f uo For Vcarly Cards, not exceeding six linos, 7 W For Announcements five cents per line, unless contracted for by tho year. For Business and Special Notices. 10 cents per lino, - Double column advertisements extra. . tion’; “ are these j.oungstors more of my offspring 7" ' “ Oh, no, papa," answered the young lady; “ these are Carrie’s, your oldest daughter’s children. They are your grandchildren.” “ For heaven's sake, stop there," J shouted; “you have made me a grand father, but be good oubugh not to go any farther with my descendants.” “The truth must be told,” said the youhg lady with a rosy smile; “you know your oldest son is named John ?” “ Well, since you say so, we will call him John.” 11 John has a married daughter, who has lately had ” (I knew what was coming, so I jumped up add seized my hat while she conclu ded.) “A bouncing little boy—so you are a great grandfather,” continued the young lady. Bike Macbeth, I would "hear ni, more,” but rushed from the room as if Satan and all his imps were at my heels. As I passed out at the street door, like a young hurricane, I noticed thafaii ele gaut;Carriago had stopped in the front of the hotel, and a lady was getting out of It, hut I was in too great a hurry to pay much attention to her. I was so much annoyed with the un accountable conduct of the people at tile hotel, that I did not return until late in the evening, preferring to purchase my supper at a restaurant. When I did re turn, the landlord again welcomed me, and assured me that my bed was ail ready, and everything was “ all tight. 1 ’ He said "all right” with such an insinu ating, deferential smile that I could nut comprehend what the fellow meant. , When I reached my bed room, in pushing the door to 1 accidently blew out the light, and found myself in the dark en intensely dark that £ could not see a step before me. 'However, I .concluded to undress in the dark, so I sat down up on the bed, and began to divest myself of my,clothing. , • In moving my hand carelessly over the bed it suddenly came in contact with a solid body, which felt most singularly like human being. In the next'moment my hand was grasped by two smooth, soft hands, and then I felt the tips of my fingers pressed against the delicate, rap- turous lips. What did it mean ? Couid it bo a ghost in my bed or a burglar? -Or was it a young lady? When I thought of the latter possibility, my limbs trembled iu terror and I was about to light the lamp again! Before I could do so, however, a sweet voice spoke to me. "Brown," said the voice, “ who don’t you come to bed? Here I have been waiting for the last half hour." I understood what was the matter now, and ! determined to have some fun; " Go to sleep my dear, and don’t both er me,” said she; "I will come to bed when I am ready." In a moment there came , a piercing scream from Ihe bed, loud enough to have raised the shingles from the roof.— It had the effect of bringing the landlord into my room with all his boarders troop ing at his heels. What was my dismay, when a light was brought, to discover a beautiful lady sitting bolt upright in bed, and attired in a snowy white garment. “What do you mean sir by entering my bed chamber?" asked the lady in a me of voice. severe •.*' YeM you mej [and I would like to kuow'what jn, sir?” said a stout gentleman j)wn age, who came tearing into of my :be roq in at that moment, like a wild byeanajl flourishing a thick cane in one band, while in the other be carried a carnet bSg. “ Who the devil are you, sir?” asked this gentleman, stalking up (o me, and staring me in the lace. ‘‘l am Mr. Brown, air,” said I assum ing a most dignified expression of counte nance. Aiul I urn Mr. Brown,” said tile oili er, scowling at me fearfully. " That’s a coincidence,” aaid I. , “What were you doing in my wife's room ?” asked the man. “ That’s anoth er coincidence, bey 7” “You are mistaken, sir,” said f. "Your wife got into my room. I engaged this room early in the afternoon, as I can prove by the landlord.” At this moment the young lady who had claimed me aa her father in the af ternoon, approached the lady in the bed, and inquired: “ Tell me mamma, which of these gen tlemen Is my papa?" “ Why the good-looking onoof course.” said the lady, “ the gentleman with the aide whiskers.” She meant the othei fellow. “Oh, how I have been deceived 1” oried.,the young lady, her face suffused with blushes. “ Yes, and I have been deceived,” said the landlord, “for 1 took this Mr. Brown to be the other Mr. BroWn, and I let him have the best room, which I intended for the wealthy Mr. Brown and his wife." The horizon began to clear a little, ahd | I saw the light. But I determined to i get to the bottom of this mystery, so I ' | button-holed the landlord, and drew him luto a corner, when I put “ a few leading questions, aa the lawyers say. I learned that the other Mr. Brown was a wealthy individual, who had been traveling In Europe for several years, and had not' seen his family for a long time. JJurlng his absence his wife died, and he took another partner to his bo som, and wrote homo to his family that he would return immediately, and bring bis bride with him. His arrival was anxiously looked for, [ and his children residing at the hotel where I was putting up, that establish ment was la arms for the event. Brown had left his children when they were so small that they could not remem ber him, and what was more strange, be neuer sent them a picture of himself—so the only way they could Identify him was by his name. What more natural than for them to suppose me their father on my registering my name? When I looked into the matter, I could even for give the landlord for his blunder. On the mistake being explained to the ether Mr. Brown, he acknowledged I was not to blame, and volunteered to stand treat to champagne and oysters. I re spectfully declined, and departed for another hotel, where X was the only Mr. Brown.
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