The American Volunteer PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING «Tolm B. Bratton OFTJCn SOUTH MARKET SQUARE. Terms.— Two dollars per year if paid strictly in advance. Two Dollars and Fifty Cents if paid within ihreo months, after which Throe ■Dollars will bo charged. These terms wilt bo rigidly adhered to in every Instance. No sub scription discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. |)odical TIRED MOTHERS. A llttlo elbow leans npon your knee, Your tired knees that hath so ranch to boar ; A child's deer eyes aro looking lovingly From underneath a thatch of tangled hair. Perhaps you do not heed the velvet touch Of warm, racist lingers folding yours so tight You do’ not prize this blessing overmuch,- You are almost too tired to pray to-night. But it is blessedness I A year ago 1 did not see it as 1 do to-day. We aro so dall and thankless, and too slow To catch the sunshine till it slips away And now it seems surprising strange to mo, That, while I wore the badge of motherhood, I did not kiss more olt and tenderly The little child that brought mo only good. And if, some night, when you sit down to rest, You miss this elbow from your tired knee; This restless, curling head from off your breast, This lisping tongue that chatters constantly. If from your own tho dimpled hands had slipped, And ne’er would nostlo In your palm again ; If the white foot Into their grave had slipped, I coaid not blame you foryourheartaolio then. I wonder so that mothers ever iret ■ At little children clinging to their gown; Or that the footprints, when tho days are wtt, Are ever b'aok enough to make them irown. If I could find a little muddy boot, Or cap, or Jacket, on my chamber floor; If I could kiss a rosy restless foot, And hear'its patter In my home once more, If I could mend a broken cart to-day, .To-morrow make aklte to reach tho sky— There is no woman in God’s world could say She was more blissfully content than I. But ah! the dainty pillow next ray own' Is never rumpled by a shining head; My singing blrdllng from Its nest Is flown; Tho little boy I used to kiss Is dead I ~The Aldine, Slfecellancflits, A GROWN, AND WHAT GAME OF IT. It was a busy day with the florist. All bauds were at work making bouquets, crosses, wreaths, aud filling baskets. The florist, Karl Breitmau.was at work himself. Presently a carriage stopped, and a tall, elegantly dressed young lady came Into the shop. Karl stepped for ward lo take her order. ‘I wish to leave an order for a crown of white flowers for a funeral to morrow morning,’ said she. 'I am so sorry, madame, hut, as mnd ' ame sees, we are so busy, A wedding to-night, a funeral to-morrow, half a dozen parties, aud so many baskets ordered—it Is qui to impossible,’ answer ed the little German, politely. The young lady looked disappointed, but as she turned to go, Mrs. Breltman stopped her. T will see to, It, miss, that your order Is filled.. Only leave It with me.’' To speak truthfully, Mrs. Breitman was a miserly soul, and. could not bear’ the thought of losing the prospective money, for she aaw by tho carriage at the door that this was a wealthy ous- ‘Thank you',' said the lady ; ‘lt is kind of you. I want a crownof pure white flowers.’ •That will be very expensive, miss. ‘Perhaps a little cross of violets on the lop would suit you, we make so many, suggested Mrs. Breilman, her eyes sparkling as the lady assented, for vio lets were just coming into season, and very expensive. ‘Yes, that will look well. Here is my, card which you must tie on it. The . funeral is to-morrow, at ten, and I shall expect this to he very handsome. Mind, X shall be there and see it.’ ‘Yes, miss,’ replied Mrs, Breitman, glancing at the book. ‘Oh in Thirty-. fifth street! I thought, maybe, It was for Mrs! Willis’ funeral; that is to-morrow morning, and we have a large order for that.’ ‘Good afternoon, miss. -Shall I send you the bill ?’ ‘No; I will call and pay you.’ The florist’s wife as she went back picked up the card,, saying, ‘I wonder who she is!’ On the pasteboard she read in old English letters the name, ‘Mary Lester, Fifth avenue.’ ‘Ha, Karl,’ she called; ‘I have gained a customer—one who does not care for ex pense.’ ■Thou wilt have to arrange the flowers thyself, Katrine,’ answered he crossly. ‘We will be up half of the night be f°Katrine nodded. When the bridal , banquet was disposed of and her husband had gone off to superintend the floral decorations of the church where the marriage was to be, she began to make the crown; ‘Life and Death 1’ she mut tered, as her deft Augers wove the ereamy rosea with the snow-white ones, arranging the odorous, sprays of Allies ■with dentzla. ‘Brides and corpses! We florists deck them both, and flowers serve for one as well as the other,’ Then she fell to thinking of the lady, Mrs. Willis, who was to be buried to-morrow. ‘Four crosses, six wreaths, a crown, and loose flowers,’ said she to herself. ‘He loved her well. It’s riot two years since I made her bridal bouquet. Dear heart. I wish to-night’s bride a long life.’ It was with a sigh of relief that Miss Lester threw herself back in the coupe beside a portly matron in black velvet. ‘Oh mamma,’ exclaimed she, ‘I do hate this unreal, foolish fashion of sending flowers to dead people. They have a large order for a Mrs. .Willis’ funeral there at the florist’s, and our flowers might Just as well go to her as to Cousin Marianne’s. Wo didn’t know George ; We don’t know Mrs. Willis. ‘No love,’ replied Mrs. Lester. ‘But It Is expected of us luhiib case and not In the other, and Marianne would be hurt and vexed If we send no flowers for her husband’s funeral, and although I dep recate the custom ns much as you, still it la as well to do as the world does.’ ‘The world shall never lay down laws for me,’ said Mary energetically, ‘X think for a friend to strew flowers on the per son of a loved one who has gone la beau tiful ; but, oh, this reduction of poetical sentiment to fashion’s edicts,’ and she smote her little palms together so vio lently as to make her mother start. ‘Don’t do that, Mary. It is not lady- like Tell me. iIW you order the crown made na I dealred?’ They then drilled on Into a'oonvoraatlou upon tho quality, style, and price of flowera, ‘flaking up ordera forMra. Willis' funeral?’observed ..... „ ...i..„ • ..„. iii ,... • s : t 4... 1 • 1 I s ~• —,,.. - \ s., , k ~ • . , , pi:. i ~... , ~ ' ..,,•: „ •• ‘• . t , ~• L,,. ~,_•••• , c., . , JOHN B. BRATTON Mrs. Lester at last. ‘I wonder if that is Clara Sponcor, who was married about two yaara ago to WOlard Willis- You have seen them at church, Mary? Their pew is three ahead of ours. * 1 ‘Yes, I remember/ answered Mary, thoughtfully. She spoke little on her way home, and was rallied by her moth er for her absent air. ‘lam thinking,’ said she, briefly. She did not like to say that her thoughts were full of that tall handsome mnn,with bis little blonde wife, who had fiat just before them in church. Sunday after Sunday, .Mary bad seen'them together, and she was wondering if ho had loved her much; If he grieved sorely for her loss. How sorely Mary did not know. Willard Willis was bowed in grief for the loss of his wile, his little Clara. He felt keenly too, now that she was gone, that he.had not valued her enough, bad treated her too much like a child. Now that death had laid bis cold seal upou her, all her faults were forgotten, and only the winning, loving ways remem bered which had won his heart before his marriage. It was the morning of the funeral. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers. His sister Mrs. Carr, was ar ranging the floral devices about the fair Tnarble figure ia its last resting place. ‘How many beautiful flowers there are!’ said she, through her sobs, to some of the other, relatives. ‘Look, Sarah, what a beautiful cross James Hubble has sent her. You know people said he wanted-to marry her. And this crown —I, never did see anything so perfectly beautiful ! Look, all roses, and none of those horrid japonlcas. Bee these violets In the little cross.’ *lt is handsome!’ cried Helen Willard, turning the card over. ‘Mary Lester; who is she, Sarah ?’ Sarah Spencer, the sister of the de parted one, shook her head'. ‘I never heard Clara speak of her.’ ‘She ought to be either a very intimate friend or a relative to send anything so handsome as this. It never cost less than forty dollafs.’ •I'll ask Willard,’ said Mrs. Carr, starting forward with the crown in her hand. Helen pulled her dress. ‘Not now.— It is most time for the funeral to begirt, and he feele so bad, and I wouldn’t if I were you.' 'Well, I’ll put it aside, and after the service I can ask him.’ When the last rites were over, Willard Willie returned mournfully alone. The first thing he saw was the crown upon the mantle, where bis sister bad placed it. All his loss rushed over him at the sight of it, and scalding tears filled his eyes. Willard found his once pleasant cheer ful home now so lonely and desolate without its presiding genius that he could no longer bear it, and about six weeks after his wife’s death he left for Europe, seeking oblivion and interest in new scenes. At first he grieved £l3^ wife .had been really greater intellect was caught by her ex treme beauty and winning ways, but these charms were beginning to lose their power before her death; and he felt now's sort of freedom for which he often reproached himself. After a year of absence he returned to America and reopened his house. One day as he entered the long unused and darkened parlors, he saw on the mantel the wire frame-work of the once fresh and lovely crown, with the faded flowers hanging from it. Detaching the card he rang for the maid to remove it, and he stood by the window in the flood of sunshine he had just let in, watching her. She was shocked. ‘To think of dear missus only gone a year, and he. ordering that crown, which she was sure he was keeping as a soveney, away to tho ash heap.’ H.is reverie was interrupted by Mrs. Carr. ‘Oh, Willard, lam glad you are at home. Now, do be a good brother, and take Helen to Mrs. Hubbeil’s party this evening. X cannot-go, and she has set her heart on it. DonT disappoint the child. Oh, I know you are in mourning,’ seeing him glance at his dress, ‘but Clara has been dead over a year now. Sarah Spencer is going, and she was Clara’s own sister. Don’t disappoint poor little Helen !’ Willard was just going to say ‘no,’ when Helen herself came running into the parlor, and looking up appealingly at her brother, with .tears in her eyes. He could not refuse his favorite little sister, and promised that he would go, although he feared ho would feel out of place in a gay assembly. But when, once more in evening dress, with his pretty sister on his arm, he entered Mrs. Hubbeil’s parlors, and met with gentle greetings on all sides, he felt as if lie were again in his element. After supper his hostess captured him, saying, ‘Mr. Willis, I am going to introduce you to a lovely young friend of mine, who does not dance,’ and leading him to a young lady in pink, she pronounced the cabalistic words, ‘Mr. Willis allow me to present you to jli B3 The name was lost in the crash of the band. Willard gave her his arm and led her to a reception room on the other side of the hall. Wilard found the young lady a most delightful conversationalist, and could hardly believe they had been talking two hours until convinced by his own watch. The next Sunday Willard joined his new acquaintance coming out of church, and, accompanying her home, received an invitation to call, which he availed himself of. very soon. Ho soon dis covered her name to bo Miss Lester, and soon found himself Indentlfylng her with the lady ho had sent the crown. One evening, bearing her mother call her Mary, these suspicious grew stronger, and they were confirmed wh-n he compared the address on the eanl in his possession with her resi dence. He found Miss Lester occupying a largo share of hia thoughts. If ho waa pleased with a book, she miiat read it ; no plan was undertaken without her ap. probation; and na Willard know all the symptoms, ho Boon knew he waa in' love-deeply In love with Mary Lester. ‘lt is all those flowers! ’ thought he. •If she bad never sent them I would never have thought of her again after our casual meeting; but I wonder * Then he asked himself for the thou sandth time, ‘why did she send me this crown ?’ Finally he concluded to ask her, which was, after all, the wisest plan. To his great disappointment she denied all knowledge of It; but when convinced by her card, she recollected sending a crown to her cousin Marianne on her husband’s funeral. ‘lt was some fearful mistake of the florist/ said she at *Oh, Mr. Willis, what must you have thought me capable of ? Sotting my cap at you the moment you were available?’ and she buried her face, suflused with blushes, in her bands. ‘To speak truly, I did not put that con struction on, bub it dees loak like it. Oh, Mary how could you do it ? And I, a poor, helpless, innocent man,have walk ed right Into the snare, 'for you have caught me. Mary, ray darling, I love you truly/ taking her hands down. •Don’t hide your pretty face, or, if you must hide it here/ drawing her head to his shoulder. Need the rest be told? .Mr. Willis No. 2 thinks widowers very bold wooers, but her husband says she encouraged him at first, before he over dreamed of marry ing again, and Ibis is the only rock on which the happy couple split. And in their happiness the dead is not forgot ten, fora pretty rosey-cheeked little girl bears the name of Clara Spencer. LETTER FROM MINNESOTA. •[Correspondence of the Presbyterian.] Messrs. Editors:— As the winter Is re laxing its vigor, even in this hyperborean region, it may be expected by some of our readers that we shall recover the power of speech, and .make report of our state. First, then, a few words about THE WINTER IN MINNESOTA. It has been severe. There is no gain saying that. But some of the statements that have gone abroad concerning it have scarcely been warranted by the facts. We have had an unusual amount of snow, and more windy weather than has been known here for many years. Asa rule, when the temperature is low, there is no wind. Even a snow flake does not change its place. And then, tho atmo sphere being remarkably free from mois ture, we suflerless from the cold with the mercury twenty degrees below zero than the residents of Philadelphia do in a temperature forty degrees higher. And taking the winter throughout, it is not only more healthful, but Incomparably more pleasant than the same season in tho latitude of Washington City. After a residence of seven years in this State we do not hesitate to speak favorably of the climate. There is a fascination about it. The stimulating atmosphere, sunny days, brilliant nights, and beautiful sum* mere retain as residents many wbo came as sojourners. Then the physical features of the country, its undulating prairies, falls, and rivers clear as crystal, possess attractions nowhere excelled in the great West. In addition to all this, and as a greater attraction to Christian people, are the opportunities of usefulness. Here are laid the foundations of churches which grow rapidly, anti the representatives of many countries are brought under the in fluence of the gospel of Christ. As respects the suffering Incident to the past winter, contrary, to the impression which some have received, it was con fined to a few days. The great storm which was destructive to many lives was of short duration and limited as to extent. The morning preceding'it was mild and beautiful. There were no Indications of the “ windy tempest” that arose late in the day. This unusual circumstance furnishes an explanation for the unparal leled loss of life. Many were enticed from their homes by the promise of pleasant weather. Farmers started with their produce for the distant market, and others remote from the railways set out on long journeys across the prairies. When the day was well advanced the storm arose. The air' was soon so filled with the snow which the winds hurled upon the travellers that the nearest ob jects were obscured, If not entirely hidden from sight. Of course, all who were ex posed to such a blinding storm became bewildered. Some wandering in circles, mistaking their almost obliterated tracks for traces of a common road, and some perished on the outskirts of the villages they wished to enter, or near the homes to which they endeavored to return. In a small settlement men were known to leave their shops, or places of business, to go to their houses, which were only a few hundred yards distant, and were found on the prairie, a mile or more away from the point of starting, and there they had perished. A gentleman, accompanied by his two daughters, travelling in a close conveyance, when two miles from his destination, was overtaken by the storm. 'For hours they wandered'about the shores of a small lake, and when plunging through snow drifts, and the night comlng ou, they almost despaired of escape from death, they discovered a fence, and hailed Its appearanod with joy. Taking this for their guide, they pressed on with difficulty until they descried the dim outlines of a human habitation, which, as soon as they reached it, they entered without ceremony. The first sounds that greeted their ears, as they hurried along a deserted hall, were the singing of a canary bird, and the sweet tones of a piano. It was like a sudden translation to Paradise. A cordial wel come was extended to the travellers by a refined and hospitable family, and under that sheltering roof they remained until “ the storm was overpast.” In consequence ol the drifting of the snow travel was interrupted on some of the railways for days together. Our worthy District Missionary visited Austin on the line of the St. Paul and Milwaukee Railroad, proposing a very brief stay, having engagements elsewhere, but the good people of that “city” had the pleas, pre of lils company for twelve days. There was no getting away in any di rection. Those were no ordinary snow drifts that could keep such a man in one place so long. On another road there was for a time what was facetiously styled a try-weekly train. It made frequent at tempts to plough Its way southward, hut foiled to get far from the broad eaves of the station. Borne of our creditors In the Eastern allies, pressed for money, be- CARLISLE, PA,, 'HDRSI)AY, MARCH 20, ISIS, moaning the stringency of the times,- brushed with a turkey wlpg from the and regretting the probable necessity of neat home-made carpet, and Annie s resorting to coercive measures to collect workstahd was drawn up In front of the their dues, wondered why they received ample and blazing fire of hickory logs no response to their Imperative damanda: which cracked cheerily in the old-fash- Meanwhlle the debtors continued In biles-,ioned fire-place. , full Ignorance of the deluge of duns com- A bountifully piled troy of red-dheek- Ing on, which, happily, did not reach ed apples and a plateful of cracked wal their destination until the money market nuts were on it, in close proximity to of the north-west became easy, and their Apnie's coquettish work-basket, made of creditors very soon thereafter received pine cones by her own deft little hands, the required enclosures. We are pro-.and daintily lined with blue al *• verbial for our honesty and promptitude one si(l ° tllo fireplace aa i rs. In meeting pecuniary obligations. Moore, fat, fair, more than forty, an at The past winter, as most of our readers peace with all the world. She sa sway know, has been a remarkably severe one ing backwards and forwards at intervals throughout the greater part of tho world. In her low rocking-chair, knitting as a e In New Orleans the Ice was thicker than (rocked and refreshing herself now an it has been for many years, - In Penn- Ithen with a mouthful from a half-eaten sylvanfa, as we are informed, the mercury apple which lay within easy reach, just fell lower than it has done since the upon the corner of the table; or touching memorable winter of 1855-56. In EnW In a caressing manner with the tip of land, visited by storms of unprecedented fi® r f°°t a sioek, lazy-looking gray ca violence, a hundred people were frozen that lay purring and blinking on t e to death. We hope that in our own Staje hearth rug before her. ' there will not be for a quarter of a cei- Annie sat on the other aide of the table tury, I fever,-a storm such tbit whlob deftly drawing her needle in andoutofa recently proved so disastrous, concerning l° D f> piece of white cambric, and with which the oldest residents say that they h®** head aa busy as her hands with try uever experienced the like. There Is no Ing to contrive some clever way of in good reason, that we can see, why emir oidentally mentioning the visit, which gratlonshould turn aside from Minnesota, she was now momentarily expecting, to because of the recent storm, any morel,fi® r mother, without exciting the auspi than that it should avoid Boston oriVion of its being a pre-arranged afiUir. Chicago. lately visited by disastrous fires. (She . would have given-a good deal to Here it may be well to state that there ( have been able to say in an oIF-hand man have been no cases of suffering, so far as ner that she wouldn't wonder if Mr. learned, among any of our missionaries,. Winthrop were to drop In, aa he was in although some of them, in meeting tbeir j the habit of calling occasionally on Sat appointments, have had to travel many urday evenings at about this time. But miles across open prairies, and recollected with a twings of-con majoriiy of the people of Minnesota have (Science how hard she had tried to per experienced.scarcely the least discomfort'suade the old lady to accompany her at any time, or have been tiecessarilyj husband on the promised visit to Aunt confined to their houses for an hour on Ruth's in spite of her forewarnings of a the coldest days of the season. Even in-1 coming spell of ‘ nouralgy,'which had valids, of whom many come hither in [intimidated her from venturing out into search of health, went abroad as usual, the damp night air; and also how she and children played on the streets as se- h*d plead, headache as an excuse for not curely as if they had been In Cincinnati sM'Ug herself. She knew that her moth er St. Louis. Itasca. * was quite sharp enough to draw her own inferences irom these two facts and the additional one of nor nelng dressed vlth more than usual care to spend an evening at home. ‘ I shall not dare to tell her now,* she said to herself. 1 She’d be sure to think that I wanted to get her out of the way so that I might have David all to myself.' bo, like a wee little puss, she-was silent. Eight o’clock and past! Worthy Mrs* Moore was dozing over her knitting. |Her shadow on the opposite wail bobbed 'about in grotesque mimicry as she nod- Ided to and fro—now crushing the volum inous white satin bows on her spruce cap against the back of her chair—now al most falling forward, while her fat hands at length dropped listlessly in her lap, and her ball of yarn rolled down upon tho hearth. Pussy espying it, was soon busy in unwinding and con verting it into all sorts of knots. All at once cam e a double rap at the door an audacious double rap which by suspense, started up with a little scream and set her foot on Puss’s tail, who in turn gave vent still more loudly to her amazement and displeasure. . All these three combined or rather rapidly successive noises, aroused Mrs. Moore, who exclaimed: ‘Bless my soul, Annie 1 What was all that? Homebody at the door? What time is it anyhow;, and who can it be? So late aa this, tool’ ■lt is not very late, mother. Only a little after eight. I’ll go and see who it is,’ said Annie. ‘No ! Here, Annie, you wiud up my b»H and brush up the hearth while I go to the door. Drat that cat 1’ In her hurry Mrs. Moore forgot to take the candle with her; and as she stapped out into tho small, unlighted front entry, she unwittingly closed be hind her the door of tho room she had ju|t left. Almost at tho same moment, aha put her hand on the handle of the outer door, and, opening it, she sudden ly found herself in tho ardent embrace of a pair of stout arms. A whiskered face was brought into close proximity with her own, and beforesho could ful ly realize her position, sho received a prolonged kiss—a ,hearty smack, given with a significant gusto, which indica ted that the unknown was taking his revenge for some past slight paying off some old score; for it said, as plain ly as words could havo done, ‘There take that!’ And all this fell upon her unoffending, virtuous matron lips ! •Oh! murder! murder! ’Taint Joshua mlther.' A KISS IN THE DAEK. ‘ Will you be at home to night, Annie?' The person who asked this question, a tall, muscular, goodMooking young far ,mer, was leaning upon Squire Moore's front gate talking to the Squire’s pretty daughter, who stood Inside of it. As the ample words passed his lips he reddened suddenly to the very roots of bis fair hair, as if he had just been guilty of some great impropriety. He was bashful—extremely bashful was David Winthrop—at least, in the presence of young ladies, most of all in the presence of the girl be loved. No young man in all Wilkes county owned a better kept farm, or talked with more confidence among his cronies of stock and crop and such like. But the eight of a pretty foot or face coming his way af fected him queerly. On such occasion® he never knew what to do with bis hands and eyes, and seemed always to feel like screwing hlsa»o w - b '‘' l '* " 1 hole “ wa ” •’“"t. This state of things being considered, no one ever understood how he contrived to muster up courage enough to enlighten Annie Moore on the subject of his pre ference for herself. David, in his awkward, blundering, half-frightened manner, began shyly to exhibit his preference for her in varlou 8 little ways. The girls tittered and nudged each oth er’s elbows, and the young men oraoked furtive jokes at the expense of her timid suitor, but she stood up for him like a real kind-hearted, independent Western lass, as she was, and tried to encourage him out of his shyness as far as she con sistently could. She never seemed to notice any of his .unfortunate blunders, and very likely helped him along considerably when his feelings reached the culminating point, one moon-lighted Autumn evening, as they were walking together from a corn husking. That hail been just one week ago. An. nio, who wished to put off the ordeal of avowal as long as possible—at any rate to gain time for one more confidential talk with David on the subject—slid hastily, in reply to that stammered query of his with whlth we have prefaced this narration; ‘Mother is going over to Aunt Ruth’s with father to' spend the evening; she wants me to go, too, but 1 guess I won’t. I’ve been working on father’s new shirts all day, besides doing the dairy work yesterday, and I’m about tired-out.’ Then she added, before he could reply: 1 Don’t come until 8 o’clock, I shall be about through putting things to right by that time.’ Of course David was not too obtuse to understand that he was specially favored by this arrangement, and he so far for got his bashfulness as to petition awk wardly for a parting kiss, which was at once refused in the moat inexorable man ner possible. ’ No, you shan’t 1 There, now! Do take yourself off, will you? D'ye think I didn’t see you lidgetting around Em. Smith at Deacon Anderson’s sociable last night ? I’ve not forgotten that, sir?’ ■ oh, now; Annie I just one /’ But further appeal was broken off by a tantalizing little laugh, and when, ren. dered desperate by this,he tried to revenge himself, at the very moment when he thought he was secure of the coveted bliss and stooped his head triumphantly over his atruggliqg#f7leoner, the rosy, laughing face, vanished suddenly from under his arm olid was off and away up the garden path leading to the house al most before he could realize what had happened. .. . . For one moment David, who stood gaz ing ruefully after her, thought of pursuit and recapture. But before he hod time to put bis plan into execution hla tor mentress, after stopping to give one mocking farewell wove of her hand from the front porch, vanished inside of the hall door. So there was nothing to be done but to turn reluctantly from the gale and take the road homeward. If you could have looked Into the family sitting-room at Squire Moore’s shortly before 8 o’clock on that same evening you would have had a cheery picture be fore you. The af.or-aupper clearing away was over, for the sitting-room was also tho room where the dally meals of the family were eaten. The leaves of tho old-fashioned dinner-table had been lot down, and the table Itself, covered with a bright oiled cloth, set back ogalnst the wall. The orumbs had been carefully For she had by this time divested her self of the Impression that It was her ustally sober spouse returned homo in a strangely exalted condition, thus to in dulge In such unwonted demonstrations of conjugal affection. ‘Git out! Oil out, Isay! Murder! Fire! Tllievesl Annie! Annie! do come here! Here is a man hissing me like mad I ■ But the Intruder bad by this time dis covared his mistake; and it-did not need the Indignant pummellng and pounding of tao old lady’s respectable lists to make him relinquish hold and race off os if punued by some avenging spirit. Annie nearly choked with smothered laughter, in spite of he? trepidation, now cams to the rescue. ‘Oh, I never was so took aback in all my born days! The mean scamp ! Who could it have been ? Annie, have you on Idea?’ But that dutiful daughter was- to all appearances as Innocent and ignorant ns an infantile dove. She tried to soothe the indignant matron by representing that It might have been (!) one of tho neighbors who, under tho potent lnllu-» enoeof a wee drop too much, had mista ken the house and —the housewife! She searched the entry for tho missing spec tacles, arranged tho rumpled cap ribbons, wound up tho tangled yarn, stirred tho ffre—all In the most amiable manner possible—and at last had the satisfaction of seeing her mother subside into her rocking-chair and her usual tranquility of spirit. B But Mrs. Moore was fully awake now. She had got a now idea into her head ; and Instead of settling herself for another nap, she pursued her train of thought and her knitting, both together, with wonderful rapidity. At length, stopping and looking keenly at Annie over her spectacles, she said : »‘lt may bo a queer notion of mine, Annie, but I’ve a fanny that man was David Wintbrop.’ Ob! but if Annie’s face didn’t oalob Ore then ! You might have lit any num ber of candies by it. i These suspicious symptoms did not escape the eye of the skillful inquisitive, who calmly continued : • ’Pears to me • ’cause them big whis kers put me in mind of bls’u ; nud tbeu the awkward way ho gripped mo with his big paws.’ No answer. But Annie was wonder fully busy. She bent over her work nud drew her needle through so quickly that the thread snapped, and then ebe didn’t have time to talk, she was so taken up with trylny to coax the thread through the eye again. Inflexible Mrs. Moore went on . ‘I don’t believe that kiss was intended for mo after all—do you, Annie]? Well, of course wo know it wasu’t. But then I do wonder who it was intended for 7 And I wonder if you don’t know some thing more about it than you seem fit to tell?’ - ‘Me, mother!’ ‘Yes, me mother, you was mighty anx ious to get me an’pap off to Aunt Ruth'a to-night; but I noticed you was slicked - up extraordinary for all you wern’t go ing.’ Here Annie lost her needle, and went down on the floor to And it. ‘Now, Annie,’ her mother went on, ‘l’m glttln’ old, Lknow that, but I have not quite lost-my eyesight yet,,nor my bearin’ neither. I’ve surmised a little somethin’ about these gain’s on between you an’ David nforo now. What are, you playin’ possum fur ? Out with it I say. ’Taint fair to bo tryin’ to como it over your old mother.’ Thus adjured, Annie made a clean breast of it, much releivod to find that mother ‘hadn’t nuthin’ agin’ him,’and ‘would give father a talkin’ to about it an’ bring him around.’ •But, Annie,’ said Mrs.. Moore, dryly, I’d rather he’d not make such a mis take as that again. I don’t like the feel of his, big whiskers about my face and, moreover, I dont approve of pro miskus kissin’.’ David never hoard the last of that kiss in the dark. Old Squire Moore, of course, heard of it, and used to take great delight in slyly alluding to the circumstance when ail the parties con cerned happened to be present. AROTIO DISCOVERIES' A young Frenchman, M. Octave Pavy, who is enabled, by the possession of con siderable wealth, to indulge his taste for making scientific investigations, fitted out an expedition to the North Pole lust summer, and personally shares in the dangers and difficulties of the voyage. The French Geographical Society lately received dispatches from him, dated from .u- ->£t- *i'.'.f, W rauuoU.. r—-**•- up the North i-nemo, Bfi-lng’s Strait and reached the coast of Wrangol’a Land, within the Arctic Ocean, at the ■ mouth of a great river coming from the northwest, and not laid down in any map. This. M. Pavy says, confirms his theory that there exists a vast polar con tinent which stretches to the north, the temperature of which la warm enough to melt snow in summer. The current of this unnamed river turns to the east, and follows the coast with a velocity of six knots an hour. M. Pavy and his com panions followed thS current of the river towards the north,a distance of-23S miles. Its bed Is uniformly horizontal; • its breadth varies from 50 to GO miles, and it is bordered by mountains of great height, with several perpendicular peaks. At 80 miles from the moulh of this river the explorers found vestiges of mastodons, and'ou clearing away the-snow from a spot whence emerged the tusks of one of that extinct race they brought to light Us enormous body in a perfect state of pre servation. The -skin wna covered wiili black stiflhair very long and thick upon the back. The tusks measured 11 feet 8 inches in length, and were bent back about tbo level of the eyes. The fore legs were bent, resting on the knees, and tbo posterior parts were deeply sunk in the snow, in a posture indicating that the animal had died while trying to extricate itself from a watery or snowy slough. From its stomach were taken pieces of bark and grasses, tire nature of which could ndt be analyzed on the spot. Over an area of many miles the plain was cov ered with the remains of mastodons—in dicating that a numerous herd of these gigantic animals must have perished there through some convulsion of nature. This region abounds with polar bears, which live on the remains of the masto dons. Arctic animals are very numerous in this valley, and myriads of birds fly above the river and over both Us banks. — Press. Fragments of Time, In order to achieve some good work which you have much at.heart, you may not be able to secure an entire week, or even an uninterrupted day. But try what yon can make of the bro ken fragments of time. Glean up its golden dust—those reapings and par ings of precious duration—those leav ings of days and remnants of hours which soon may sweep out into the waste of existence. And thus, if you bo a miser of moments—if you be fru gal, and hoard up odd minutes, and half hours, and unexpected holidays— your careful gleanings may eke out a long and useful life, and you may die at last richer in existence than multi tudes whose time is all their own. The time which some men waste in super fluous slumbers, and idle visits, and desultory application, were It all re deemed, would give them wealth of leisure, and enable them to execute un dertakings for which they deem a less worried life than theirs essential. When a person says, “I have no time to pray, no time to read the Bible, no time to improve my mind, or to do a kind turn for a neighbor,” lie may be saying what lie thinks, but he should not think what he says—for if lid has not got the time already ho may get it by redeeming it.— Dr. Hamilton. A Columbus bridegroom borrowed $2 of the officiating clergyman to pay for the license. VOL 59—N0.41 DEATH OF COMMODORE M. F. MAUET, Matthew Fontaine Maury, LI/. D., died at Lexington, Virginia,-on Satur day, the 31st of January, in the G7th year of his ago. At the time of his death ha was professor of physics in the Virginia Military Institute. It is not extravagant to say, says the Baltimore Sun, that in the death of Commodore Maury science has lost one of its most mature and creative minds. Devoted to the investigation of physical science from early manhood, lie has given fo it the assiduous labor of a strong intellect and ho has added, more to the progress of its development than any of his co temporaries. As an astronomer and hydrographer, his works are of.the best authority. Commodore Maury Was born in Spottsylvania county, Virginia, Janu ary 14th, 18QG. His parents removed while ho was young to Tennessee. In 1825 lie entered the naval service as a midshipman, and wits assigned to the Brandywine, then fitting out to convey Gen. Lafayette to France. He was af terwards transferred to the sloop of war Vincennes, and made the tour around the globe. During this cruise, and while a midshipman; ho began his trea tise on navigation, which passed thro’ several editions and was used as a text book in tho navy. He was again sent to tho Pacific as master of tho Fal mouth, and on his return was transfer red as acting lieutenant to the Potomoc. In IS3G ho was promoted to a lieutenan cy. In 1339 he mot with an accident which resulted in permanent lameness and unfitted him for active service. He was then placed in charge of the hydro graphical office at Washington, »nd up on tho combination with it of the na tional (now fiavni) observatory, ho was made superintendent of it. Before this time, however, Commodore Maury had been engaged in collecting material for pifyof tho Sen,” which was translated into most of the languages of Europe, and obtained him honors and decora tions from all .nations. It threw a flood of light upon winds, currents* Ac., and has served as the most reliable ocean chart. Besides those practical results, the new theory inaugurated by Com modore Maury of the crossing of the trade-winds at the equator, whereby the excess of evaporation in the south ern hemisphere is made to supply tho greater requirements of precipitation on the dry land of the northern, is fully developed. Among the practical ad vantages of these investigations is the shortening of the passage from the At lantic to the Pacific ports by forty days, and the voyage from Europe to Ameri ca in proportion; also the discovery of the telegraphic ocean plateau. In 1855 he was promoted to the rank of com mander- T-Tp Europe and America. Ho was also the author of a “Scheme for Rebuilding Southern Commerce,” “Letters on the Amazon and tho Atlantic States of South America,” “Relation between Magnetism and tho Circulation of the Atmosphere,” “Astronomical Obser vations,” “Letters Concerning Laws for the Steamers Crossing the Atlantic,” Ac. Commodore Maury remained in charge of the National Observatory at Washington until the commencement of the late civil war, when, in common with so many other Virginians, he re signed his position to cast his lot with his native State, aud was made one-of the executixe council of the Confederate States. Xliis action ol his, in connection with certain rivalries and jealousies develop ed a year or two previous, furnished oc casion in the North for severe criticism, and ho was even charged with being a clmrlnton tv.n and trust yourselves to Him; for He will give you all supply, just as fast as you need It. You wlll havo just as much power as you believe you will have. Suppose, for example, you are called to be a Sabbath school teacher, and you say within yourself, I have no experience, no capacity, I must decline. That is the way to keep your Incapacity forever. A trueo to those cowardly suggestions. Be a Christian throw, yourself upon God’s ork, and get the ability you want In It. ' Kates.oil Ad^cttiging. No.times Isq. aaq. 3 aq. t sq. Vi O’ Ho 1 citt 1 week. »i 00 ;a 00 13 00 SI oo 87 00 812 oo «22 w 2 160 300 100 500 900 HOO 20 oj| 3 •• 200100500000 11 00 10 oosoo! I 360 I 75 575 075 12 60 18 00 32 62 5 " 300 6600 50 7601 I 00 10 00 85 0“ 0 -3 60 650 750 850 15 60 22 50 37 6« >i inoutlia 100 750- 8 60 960 17 50 -25 00 12 6- 3 1 " 15 8 60060106020 00 SO 00 60 $ 0 7 60 1 0 00 12 60 10 00 23 CO <4O 00 75 0“ 1 year. 100150020002500 10 00 75 00 ICO tf 1 ‘ *o a square. Im’rs’. Notices. tines constitute ‘outers’ and A dr. ilttoni* Notices, ilgncos’ and sirall irly Cards, notext aounccmcntfl ftvo Twelve II For Exec For Ami For Assl For Yofti For Anr s'l 00 p 200 IftV Notices, , 300 :ccedlng six lines, • 00, 3 cents per lino un yenr. less contracted for by the ' ' For Uuhldcss and Bpecia porllno. Double icments extra, jolnran ndvoi Jsi 80, If you aro put lu charge of any such effort or institution ; so if you are called to any work or olllce in the church, or to any exercise for thocdlflcatlon of others —say not that you are unable to edify » uhdertako to edify others, and .then you will edify yourself and become able. Xo Christian will ever bo good for any thing without Christian courage, or, what la the same, Christian faith. Take upon you readilyi have it as a law to be always doing great works —that is, works that are great to you; and this is the faith that God so clearly justifies, that your abilities will be ns your works. Make large adventures. Trust God for great things. With your loaves and two fishes he will show you a way to feed thou* sands.— JhtshncWs Sermons. , ~gritultttrat. HOW TO USB STBAW, Shall wo foed straw aud mako up with grain, roots. &0., what tho otraw lacks? This lallti consequence of the high price of liny. Straw, such as wo ilnd It, has hut little nutriment. To feed stock on th Is alono will Impoverish it; and If brought Into winter quarters, In poor condi tion It cannot bo wintered on straw alono-it will dlo. Now it is known by our mostsucces ful" experimenters, that to feed grains la not generally profltable-at present a losing opera- . tlou. Roots, unless successfully raised, como ■under tbo sarao heap. As Vo must over ylow our foed with Its respect to lls loss or profit, It will bo seen that roots and. tho grains as well as straw aro not tho foed that gives satisfaction. What than shall wo do with our straw? Not put it on a pile and let It rot down. Better spread It on your wheat fields'; hut best of all use*it for bedding In stabl?s. If there Is con venience to run It through n straw cutter all tbo bettor. Thou, In connection with tho chaff of grain and clover, nothing can well be hotter for bedding or absorbents of the fluid parts of tho stable, Uso plentifully, sons to make the cleanings of tho stables comparatively dry, so as to hfiudlo without danger from flith. This manes a clean, healthy thing of your .stables, and secures you all tho benefit of tho urluo aud excrements, which otherwise * 1 11* tho slrawTo *bo~ reproduced, as it re ally will bo. Now In feeding It, but part will bo retained for tho uso of tho animal. Still, would • notthis part hoof more uso to tho animal than to the dung heap?. That depends whetb or any thing can be raised cheaper to pat In Us place. Where laud produces-say twenty dollars worth of grain to the acre-nt present prices, this same land with a close stand, thick sowing, will roal- Izonbout three tons of clover and some timo thy, In two cuttings—cutting both crops when green aud their substance. all available. Snch material is worth, according to present prices, twenty dollars a ton, being tho best kind of hay amounting to sixty dollars per acre. But drop to fifty'and raise tho grain amount llvo dollar#, and there will bo raised as an effect to the straw. And os but a share of tho benelU (nutriment) of the straw—as Is .also tho caso with old rlpo hay —can bo appropriated in feeding, and as all or nearly all that of tho clover can. bo made avail able, so It will bo aeon that straw is.a tlvo damage as a feeding crop. It Is this, be cause cheaper and much more profitable feed can bo secured. Cattle relish tender, well-cured grass. It has a health ful effect upon them— produces largely of milk,good milk, and makes a moderately rich manure if fed freely. Wo therefore discard straw from tho feed rack, and nut it under tho foot of stock. Tt will Improve jnj. . -*w« auusuiuco more .Bulrtmj^lJSky^ftAUPtAtldJunto.rnllshofi and feeding It has a discouraging look. There la no doubt about tho other feed, tho green, well-cured clover, or clover mixed with timo thy. Little or no grain need bo fed with It. This Is profitable.— 'Con’ewomlencc VUcn Herald. Linseed Ton for Sick Horses; The- American Veterinary' Journal considers linseed tea not only a valuable restorative, but also useful In cases of Inflammation of the membranes connected wltb tbo organa of re spiration and digestion, as it shields and lubri cates them, and tranqulllzos tbo Irritable state of therpans and favors' healthy action. Tbo editor says ho has proscribed linseed tea in largo quantities for" horses laboring under In fluenza. They seem to derlvo muoh benefit from It. and generally drank It with avidity. Aside from the benefit wo dorlvo from tbo'ac tion of mucilage and oil which the" seed con tains,Us nutritive elements are of some account, especially when given to animals'laboring un der soreness In the organs of deg) utltlon, which Incapacitates from swallowing more solid food. In the ovent of an animal becoming prostrated 1 by Inability to masticate or swallow more solid food, linseed tea may bo resorted to, and In case of irrl table cough the addition of a little-honey makes it still more useful. In the latter form J>V chronic disease m mo unuary apparatus, more especially of the kidneys. /The linseed ton Is prepared os follows; Put a couple haud fuls of the seed into a bucket, aud pour a gallon and a-half of boiling water upon It. Cover It up a short time, and then add acouploof quarts of cold water, when it will bo lit for use. CUTTING TIMBER.—The Increased value aud cost of our fencing material, makes It obliga tory upon us to do nil wo can to make It lasting without too much Increasing tho expense. It seems probable that ranch fencing material Is greatly injured by being cut In the wrong sea son. Our experience leads us to think that in tho Item of posts much Is lost by putting tnem Into tho ground before they are properly dried and seasoned. They will last longer if prepared a year before they are needed, and af terward kept under snollcr for the .above time. Tho main is to got tho sap out of tho wood as soon as possible, and during tho winter there Is loss In It than at any other time of tho.year. Others piofor to cut it when In full leaf, and allow tho’tlmber to lay until the leaves fall off. This accomplishes tho same result In a dlflerout way. The leaves absorb tho sap ascending tho - trunk, and return It lu a nullified condition In thr Inner bark, and It runs out at tho severed end of tho tree.— l*raciiccl Farmer. SUPERIORITY OF ALDERNEY ' MILK.— Thomas M. Harvey,, formerly of the Experi mental Farm, Mill Grove, Pa., reports In tbo* December Practical idirmcr an experiment with Alderney mlllc, showing Its great superiority for butter over the mills: of common stock cow* Ho tools eight quarts each of Alderney and na tive milk, the drat weighing 17 lbs. 4 oz., and the latter 17 lbs. 0 oz., when set and obtained 0-10lhs of a quart of cream weighing 19 oz. from the latter, VA quarts weighing 50}.; oz. from tho Alderney. To churn into butter required 35 minutes for tho native and 22 lor the Alderney, with a product of 9 oz. from the former, and 22 oz. from the latter. Lastly, tho native butter lost half an ounce la working, tho Alderney nothing. Tho Alderney butter was of a rich color, and needed no addition of foreign sub stances. Mr. H. concludes from this, experi ment that a pound of butter can be obtained from t») 3 quarts of Alderney milk, while of ordi nary milk 12 to 11 quarts Is required. Mr. Har vey’s native cows are also somewhat bolter than the average of their class.— Country CenUemen. ROSE CUTTINGS.— Max Klose, an experi enced gardener, says; “Instead of throwing any primings away this Spring, I used them as cuttings’putting the whole'of thcnl, about a dozen or more, In a marmalade jar filled with course sand and water, with sufficient of thie latter to be about a quarter of an inch or so abovo the sand. I then plunged tho Jar in a slight hot-bed. and let the culling have all the light and sun possible—never shading once. After eight weeks 1 examined tho jar and found the roots to fill them, and the roots to be In the healthiest condition. Nothing could bo more so/ 1 Ho adds; “Out of 120 cuttings of some three dozen different kinds of rosea. I on ly missed striking fifteen, which, I think. Is a very encouraging result; and. X shalhconsider It tho road royal, and experiment in a simi lar manner In tho summer, when I shall pay more attention to the preparing of the cuttings, and the way they will Strike tho rtndlOdt. 1 ' Notices, lOccwlk