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.