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
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, 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<j showing the unreason
ableness of projmtiWWnQ
ing. As soon as it Was known that ho
laid resigned his place in the service of
the United States, ho was solicited to
become the guest of Russia, where ev
ery provision was made for his comfort
aud to enable.him to continue his re
searches, This invitation, as well as a
similar one from Franco, ho declined.
Commodore Maury spent most of his
time from 18G2 to ISGS in Europe.
While in Europe ho prepared, by per
mission, for the son of the Grand Duke
Constantino and his cousin Alexis, an
elementary work on physical geogra
phy, which, by imperial orders, was
translated for the schools of Russia. It
was during the latter year of. his stay
in Europe that ho devoted himself to
the preparation of his geographical text
books, which' have been published by
the University Publishing Company of
Now York and Baltimore. Ho has also
devoted himself to the restoration and
development of the South, encouraging
emigration and inviting the population
to its vast physical advantages by
means of essays and lectures upon its
climate and soil, but more particularly
was the work of his declining years con
genial to his tastes in the instruction of
the youth of his native State in the
science ho loved.
Duty Hot Measured by Our Ability'
There are many who faint when they
look on almost any duty or cood work,
because they are so consciously unoqual
to it. Why, if they were not unequal,
or felt themselves to ho equal, they had
better for that reason decline it; for there
is nothing so utterly weak and Impotent
as this conceit of strength;
Brethren, the day Is wearing away,
this Is a desert place; there are hungry)
perishing multitudes around us, and
Christ is saying to us all, Give ye them to
eat. Bay not, We cannot, we have noth
ing to give. Gotoyourduty, every raan>
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