Father Abraham. (Reading, Pa.) 1864-1873, January 07, 1870, Image 1

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No. 13, Month queen Stri.et, Lancaster.
TERMS OF :-.unscrarrioN.
1 copy, one yrar. $ 1.50
5 copies, (each name athlresse(l,) 7.00
10 copies 13.00
13 topics it ,i moo
20 copies " 22.00
And $l.lO for each additional subscriber.
5 COME'S, (to one othiress,) •
10 copies " .
16 copies " « 16.50
'A copies " 20.00
And $l.OO for each additional subscriber.
air All subscriptions must invariably be paid
in advance.
JOl3 it N N
Of every description, neatly awl promptly exe
cnted, at short notice, and on the most
reasonable terms.
On and after Monthly, Nov. 15th, 18139, trains
will leave the Penu'alrmul Depot, at Lan
caster, as follow:
Pittsburg Ex.12:51 a.tu. elnein. 12:ts a. M.
Pae '2:4i) ' htin. Ex-press 3:10 ••
Emigrant Tr. 4.28 " I Fast Lint. 6:12
11:15 " Lane. Train ••
Mail No. 2, via Coln Inhia Ay.:
celatuhla..„.ll: ls " (orrice ......1:45. p.
Fast Lim• 2::15 p.m. Pacific:Express
Oolamhia ‘e... 2:15 •
Ac. 5:51 " Soul Mow l.a
Lane. Train.. 7:31 " (leave) 4:1» ••
Mein. Ex....10:50 " flarrish'g Ac
(leave)..:, 5:51 ••
(I,a t Too& Line] . ronttltc North rn Aiath
westfor Philarlehillia, New York, Read
illy, Pottsville, 'I it»utgriu, ~Ishland,
atokin, Lebo owl, Allentown, Easton, Eph
rata, Litiz, beneastre, Columbia, cr.
Trains leave Harrisburg for New York as fol
lows : At 2.30. 5.35, awl 8.10 a. Hi.. and 12.20 noon,
awl 2.55 111 , ' 11 00 p. , connect big w ith sintllar
trains on the Pennsylvania Itailroad and arriv•
Inc at New York at 10.15 , 12 05 noon, 3.:;5,
0,35 and 10.00 p. ut., and 6.00 a. In. respectively.
Sleeping Cars accompany the 2.:;0 and 5.45 a.m.,
and 12.20 noon trains without change
Leave Harrisburg for Heading. Pottsville,
Tamaqua, Minersvilic, Ashland. Shamokin,
Pine Grove., Allentown awl Philadelphia, at
5.10 a. m, 2.55 and p. ni. Hie 2.55 train stop
ping at Lebanon only; I .1 10 v. In. train stop
ping at all Stations, and making connections
for Philadelphia, Pottsville, Columbia, and :LI I
immediate stations between said points only.
For Pottsville, -cbuylkill Haven out Anhui
via Schuylkill and Susquehanna Railroad, leave
Harrkhurg at 0.10 p.
Icturning: Leave New York at 9 io a. to ,12.00
noon, bOO and 8.00 p. in., Philadelphia at 8.15 a.
1 n• and 3 Si P. m ; sleeping cars accompany the
:1.0:111. nn., 5.00 and s.OO p. lit. trains from New
York, without change.
Way p;:s,•iwer Train 1••ave8 Philadelphia at
730 a in ' connecting with similar train on East
Penna ltailrowl, returning from Rea:ling :11
6.35 p. In., stopping at all stations; leave Potts
ville at 5.4)) 904 a. iii and 3.05 p. In • Herndon :it
9.30 a. ni.. Shamokin at 5.40 ,and 1010 arm; Ash
land at 7.05 a. in., and 12.30 noon. 'ram:ulna at
8.33 a. In.; and 2.20 p. ul., for Philadelphia and
New York
Leave Pottsville, via Schuylkill and Susoue.
hanna Railroad at S. 1511. 111 for Ilarrisburg, and
11.30 a in for Pine Grove anti Tremont.
. .
Reading Accommodation Train : Leaves
Pottsville at 5.40 a tn., passes Reading at 7:30a.
m., arriving at Philadelphia at 10.20 a. in., return
ing leaves Philadelphia at 4:15 p. to , passing
Reading at 7.40 p. in., arriving at Pottsville at
9.30 p.
Pottstown Accommodation Train: Leaves
Pottstown at 0 45 a m.; returning, leaves Phila
delphia at 4.00 p
Columbia Railroad Trains leave Reading at
7.15 a. in. and 0.15 p in. for Ephrata, Lit iz, Lan
caster, Columbia, &e.
Perkiomen Railroad Trains leave Perkiomen
Junction at 9.00 a in. 3.10 and 5.30 I. in ; return
in leave Sehwenkville at 5.10, 8.12 a m. and
12.4 jg troon, ("ou...toting with faimilttr truing on
Reading Rail . oad.
Colehrookdale Railroad trains leave Potts
town at 9.00 a. in, and 6 20 p. w. for Mt. Pleasant.
arriving there at ,0.20 it. in. and 7.20 pre
turning, leave Sit.. Pleasant at 7 OJ and 11 00 a.
in. ' connecting with similar trains on Reading
R. 11.
Chester Valley Railroad trains leave Bridge
port at 830 a. at.. and 2u5 and 5 p. m., return
leave Downingtown at 0.30 a. in.,12 45 noon,
and 5.15 p. tn., connecting with trainson Reading
liailrou 1.
(in Sundays: Leave New York at 5.00 and 8.00
p. In., Philadelphia at 8.00 a. 111 and 3.15
the (8.00 a in. train running only to Reading,)
leave Pottsville 8.00 a. in • liarrisburg, 6.35 a. tn.,
1.10 and 11 00 p. in., and Reading at 1 . 2.41, mid
night, and 7.15 a. in. for liarrishm•g, at 7.20 a in ,
ami 12.55 midnight, for New York and at 0.40 a.
in. and 4'5 p. in for Philadelphia
Commutation, Mileage, season, School and
Excursion Tickets, to and from all points, at
reduced rates.
Baggage checked through; 100 pounds allowed
each Passenger
General Soperintendeut.
R NADI NO, PA., N0v.1.2, 1369, (dec3-tf
LalleaSter.....B:ls a. in. Reading
....3:10 p. m
Columbia a. m
3:00 p.
Heading ..... 7:15 a. in. Luneasster.....9:2s R. in
6:15 p. m. 8:25 p. in
7:15 a. m. Columbia .....9:35 a. m
" 6:15 p. in. p. in
Trains leaving Lancaster and Columbia as
above, make close connection at Reading with
Trains North and South on Philadelphia and
Reading Railroad, and West on Lebanon Valley
Road. Train leaving Lancaster at 815 A. M. and
Columbia at 8:10 A. M. connects closely at Read
ing with Train for New York.
Tickr.sts can be obtained at the Offices of the
New Jersey Central Railroad, foot of Liberty
street, Ne w Yorkiand Philitdelphittand Reading
Railroad, 18th and Callowhill streets, Phila.
Through tickets to New York and Philadel
phia sold at all the Principal Stations,and Bag
gage Checked Through.
OfirMileage Ticket Books for 500 or 1000 miles,
Season and Excursion Tickets, to and from all
points, at, reduced rates.
Trains aro run by Philadelphia and Reading
Railroad Time which is 10 minutes faster than
Pennsylvaniaßailroad Time.
n0r.53-00-t I] GEO. F. GAGE. Si. .
LA!4CASTER, JUlie 25th, 1868
EDITORS Expeass: Dr. Wm. M. Whiteside, the
enterprising Dentist, has purchased from inc a
large stock of teeth and all the fixtures, the in
struments formerly belonging to me, and also
those used by my father, Dr. Parry, in his prac
tice. In the purchase, the doctor has provided
himself with some of the most valuable and ex
pensive instruments used in dental practice,
and has beyond doubt one of the best and lar
gest collections of teeth and instruments in the
State. Persons visiting the commodious offices
of Dr. Whiteside, cannot fail to be fully accom
modated. The Doctor loses no opportunity. of
furnishing himself with every late scientific
improvement in his fine of bu
ll n . iess.
Next door to the Court House, over names-
tack's Dry Goods Store,
Teeth Extracted without
_pain by the UB6 of
(Nitrous Oxide) Gas.
no2D4f I
r- A 1
Vol,. 111.
pro.i„,tly att,„,,,A to.
augl3 1 I
186 S.
...! 1
SILULTZ ,:!:, .13ROTI I E It,
Laic.% -.1 %IP Fall and NV int er 1.1 ATS ;on{ 1.; APS
Wo arc note 0111.11ing thv 1:11''..T0 , 4
:;.111111th . lt,4tiOrtlllent HMI C}:iit!l - II .4
FANCY FUlts vvcr otrere , i in :it
ROBES! lt 0 TIES!! ROBES.'.!
LitllEllo 111111 lholson
V. Prairic %Volt', Fox, Coon, &c.
Of all (plant WS, to NV h ich we woubl particularly
invite the attention of all persons in want of
articles in that line.
KID, &0., &c
Ladies' Fine Fur Trimmed Gloves, Gauntlets
Mitts and Hoods,
PHILADELPHIA, !'q . pt. 1, Is1;9.
MEssit4. FAIU HERRING & CO., 629 Chest
mit street
GENTl.v.lettcx We have just examined, with
the very greatest satisfaction, our sink!, pur
chased et you some years ago, and which pass
ed through our destructive the last night.
W find the contents, without exception. en
tirely unharmed, merely slightly damp,and we
feel now in a condition to commence our busi
ness again, having every book perfectly safe.
We shall in a few (lays require a larger one,
and will call upon you.
PHILADELPHIA, Attg, 27, 1869,
GENTLEMEN: In the year 1856, I unfortunately
was in business in the Artisan Wutlding, which
was desto oyed by fire on the 16th of April. I
had then In use what I supposed was a Fire
proof Safe, but upon opening it I found every
thing was destroyed. and fire burning t herein.
You will recollect gentlemen, there were
several of your Safes in that fire, also several in
the fire at Sixth and Commerce streets. the next
May, five weeks afterwards, all or which upon
being opened proved they were fire-proof in
deed, for I witnessed the opening of the most
of them, and in every case the contents were
preserved, while Safes of other matters were
partially or entirely destroyed. lat once con
cluded to have something that I could depend
upon, anti purchased one of your safes.
The Safe I purchased of you at that time was '
subjected to a white heat (which was witnessed
by several gentlemen that re.ide in the neigh
borhood) at the destruction of my Marble Paper
Factory, 921 Wallace street, on the afternoon
and evening of the 24th Inst. After digging the
Safe from the ruins, and opening it this morn
ing, I was much pleased to find everything, con
sisting of books, papers, money and silverware
all right. Isbell want another of your Safes as
soon us I can get a place to continue my busi
ness in. I could not rest contented with any
other make of Safes.
s: 3u p. m
10:.30 a. m
5:30 p. m
the most reliable protection from fire now
ERS' SAFES, combining hardened steel and
iron, with the Patent Frank Unite, or SPIEGEL
EISEN, furnish a resistant against boring and
cutting tools to an extent heretofore unknown.
Au engineer on the Ohio and Mississip
pi Railroad tells the following story of
himself. One night the train stopped to
wood and water at a small station in In
diana. While this operation was going
on I observed two green-looking country
men, in " home-spun," curiously inspect
ing the locomotive and occasionally giving
vent to expressions of astonishment. Fi
nally one of them looked up to me and
"Stranger, are this a locomotive?" -
"Certainly. Didn't you ever see one
haven't never saw one afore.
Me'n Bill come down to the station to
night purpose to see one. Them's the
biler, ain't it?"
" Yes, certainly.''
"What yer call that you're in?"
LoisEED OIL We call this the cab."
'TURPENTINE, &0., he. " And that big wheel?"
"That's the driving wheel."
NO. 100 NORTH QUEEN STREET, "That big black thing on top is tli‘
(In the Keystone Building,) chimbley, I Bopp - NO"
LANCASTER, PA. " PrecisAy."
" Be you the engine:T %vat runs the mil-
Also, Mahogany Boards, Veneers and chine?"
Mouldings of diflrent sizes and pat- "I am the engineer."
terns. All kinds of Turning, such "Bill," said the fellow to his mate,
as Bed Posts, Table Legs, after eyeing me closely for It few minutes,
Spokes,_ Hu* Felloes, "IT DON'T TAKE MUcII OP A MAN TO RE
&c,, &C., &C. ! ENOINEER, DO IT?"
Also, AXLES, SPRINGS, &e. [Jan s.iyr ; " All aboard!"
oet , Is I
' r
a _
g 2
" With malice towards none, with charily for
all, with firmness in Me right, as God gives us
to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work
we are in; to bind up the nations wounds; to
Rats, Caps, Fars, tee.
.71:11111fact un•r- and 11ealt.r-
:IA T 7 E: It S,
in art
L DIES' t'Ati(.,l FU
Marble Paper Manufacturer.
Varaishes, tte.
Will the New Year come to-night, mamma':
Um tired of waiting so—
My stocking hung by the chimney-side fall
three long (lays ago;
I rim to peep within the door by morning's
early light—
'Tis empty still; oh, say, mamma, will the
New Year corns to-night!
Will the New Year come to-night, mamma—
the snow is on the hill,
And the ice must be two inches thick upon
the meadow's rill.
I heard you tell papa last night his son must
have a sled,
(I didn't mean to hear, mamma,) and a pair
of skates, you said.
I prayed for just these things, mamma.
I shall be full of glee,
And the orphan boys in the village school
will all be envying Inc
But I'll give them toys, and lend them hooks,
and make their New Year glad,
For God, you say, takes back his gifts when
little folks are bad.
And won't you let me go, mamma, upon the
New Year day,
And carry something nice and warm to pour
old widow Gray':
I'll leave the basket near the door, within the
garden gate—
Will the New Year conm,to-night, mamma?
It seems so long to wait.
The New Year comes to-night, mamma, I
saw it in my sleep;
My stocking hung solidi, I thought—mamma,
what makes you weep?
But it only hell a little shroud—a shroud,
and nothing more;
Au open coffin, made for me, was standing
on the floor!
It seemed so very strango, indeed, to lied
such gifts instead
Of all the toys I wished so much—the story
books and sled;
And while I wondered what it meant, you
came with tearful joy,
And said, "Thoul't find the New Year first;
Clod calleth thee my boy!—
It is not all a dream, mamma—l know it
must be true;
But have I been so bad a boy, God taketh
me from you?
I don't know what papa will do when I am
laid to rest—
And you will have no Willie's head to fold
upon your breast.
The New Year comes to-night, mamma—your
dear hand on my cheek,
And raise my head a little more—it seems so
hard to speak.
I shall not want the skates, mamma, I'll
1113 1 /Cllloed ins fear
But won't you give them both to Blake, who
hurt me on my head?
He used to hide my hooks away, and tear the
pictures, too,
But now he'll know that 1 forgive, as then I
tried to do.
And, if you please, mamma, I'd like the
story-hooks and slate
To go to Frank, the drunkard's boy, you
would'nt let me hate;
And, dear mamma, you won't forget, upon
the New Year's day,
The basketful of something nice for poor old
widow Gray?
The New Year comes, tonight, mamma—it
seems so very swil—
l. think God didn't hear me ask for just an
other June.
I know I've been a thoughtless boy, and
made you too much care,
And, maybe for your sake, mamma, God
doesn't hear my prayer.
There's one thing more; my pretty pets, the
robin and the dove,
Keep for you and dear papa, and teach them
how to love.
The garden-rake, the little hoe—you'll and
them nicely laid
Upon the garret floor, mamma, the place
where last I played.
I thought to need them both so much when
summer conies again,
To make my garden by the brook that trick
les thro' the glen,
It cannot be; but you will keep the summer
flowers green,
And plant a few—don't cry, mamma—a very
few I mean,
Where I'm asleep—l'll sleep so sweet be
neath the apple-tree,
Where you and robin, in the morn, will come
and sing to me.
The New Year comes--good night mamma—
" I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord"--tell dear papa
to keep;
If I"—how cold it seems--how dark—kiss me,
I cannot see--
The New Year comes to-night mamma, the
old year—dies with me.
'•()h, you bad girls--oh, you cruel girls!
you called the new girl a charity scholar!"
and Lucy Day stood in the midst of the
group of school girls, drawn up to her
fullest height, with her cheeks burning,
and her glorious brown eyes flashing—
,ljooking like a very little queen in her
youthful, honest indignation.
"I'll take her for .my desk-mate, and--
and I'll never have another word to say
to one of you, more than I can possibly
help, if you—if you ever trouble her
again.'' Lucy Day went on, stamping
her tiny feet on the plattlirm, "you'll see
if I will! It almost made me hate you,
every one of you, when I found that dear
little motherless thing hidden away be
hind the stairs in the lobby, with her
black frock splashed all over with tears,
and sobbing so dreadfully?"
"But we did not think she'd care so
very much," cried several voices.
"Didn't think she'd care! You ought
to be ashamed of yourself to say it; to be
sure you did, ind you know you are lib-
I tang. I wish I was brave, like this Susan
Garnet, willing to come in among a lot
:of proud, stuck-up girls, and sweep up
'their nut shells and apple cores, and date
'stones, and waste paper, and dust their
desks and wash their ink-stands, and
Iltang up their waterproofs and hats in the
lobby—and all to get, some learning! I
!tell you she's the first girl in the school!
I'd rather be Susan Garnet than the whole
of us—in one way I had!"
- "We never thought of it in that way,
Lucy," now spoke up Minnie Spear,
"and you have no right to be so hard
upon us and call us names."
"Hard upon you? Well, I don', want
to be that Minnie, I'm sure," answered
Lucy, with a gentle tone, "only 1 felt so
sorry for the brave little dear!"
• "But she's a tattler, or how did you
know what she was crying about, Lucy
,Day—just tell that?" interposed Fanny
Bradford, with a malicious sparkle in her
black eyes.
"Because I came back last night after a
book and heard a sobbing in the lobby,
and so peeped through the key-hele and
saw her, and she did not tell me one sin
%vocal', _ . _
"Hush! here she comes," cried several
voices under their breath.
Susan Garnet came slowly up the oath
in her rusty black frock and her coarse
stra v hat with its black ribbons. With
anevident shrinking from the group ofgirls
upon the steps, she was hurrying by
them, when Lucy Day placed herself a
little before her and said:
"Susie—Susie Garnet, don't go iu yet.
The teacher has not come, and it is so
pleasant out here under the trees. Do
you liar that dear little bird singing,
Susan Garnet looked up in pleased sur
prise, it was so unexpected. And then
she laid her hand in Lucy Day's with a
faint color in her pale cheeks.
"Oh, we are going to be such friends,
you and I," Lucy went on to say, as she
drew Susan upon the step by her side. "I
liked you from the first minute I saw you,
and I want you to sit with me—"
"With you, Miss Day!"
"Oh, please not 'Miss Day' me! Pin
,Lucy—l don't want to be anything else to
you And you must sit by me—will you?
It will be so nice!"
"If you like me to, of course I shall he,
oh, very, very glad!" and here Susan
Garnet choked down a sob.
"Come, Susan—come girls, let us go
down to meet the teacher; I see her just
turning the corner:" and now Lucy drew
Susan's arm around her waist, and led the
way, the other girls following in their suit,
giving the new girl friendly smiles and
" Bless your kind little heart, Lucy
Day," whispered Miss Alcott, the teacher,
as they filed up the stairs. " I was going to
keep the girls in at recess and lecture them
for their rudeness to the new scholar, but
you've saved me the painful duty ! I'm
sure I don't know what I could do with
out you;" and Miss Alcott raised Lucy's
-little white hand to her lips and kissed it
with moist eyes. Then they all trooped
into the schoolroom in a merry flutter, as
happy school girls will.
Susan Garnet had no more coldness to
fear now that Lucy Day had taken her
'up. She felt it, sitting there by Lucy's
side, and her poor little motherless heart
sang for very joy that morning, nor did it
ever forget the song it sang.
"Squire Raymond," cried Lucy Day,
flitting across the str et, on her way home
from school, several weeks after the open
ing of our story.
"What is it, my little queen ?" And
then the squire, who had turned around,
held out both of his hands towards Lucy,
and Lucy laid her own in them, and look
ed up into his benevolent old face, with:
"Oh, it is something I've longed so to
ask you. May I walk home with you,
Squire Raymond ?"
May you? Of course you may. But
how tine we are this morning, in such a
pretty pink gown, and a bran new hat,
or I miss my guess, and a fresh shine on
our golden curls ! What is it all for ? A
trap to take the old man's heart by storm?"
And now the Squire's mellow laugh float
ep out on the pleasant air.
"Perhaps. But, come, you must not.
talk any more such nonsense, for I must
tell you all about it."
" Well, go en, little one. Of course 1
must mind the Queen of the Town!"
"my soul
hinz who shall have borne the battle, and
, idon , and his orphan, to do all which may
and cherish a just and a lasting peace
)urselyes and with all nations."—.4...l.
, 1 21
" Then I may say it? I was a little
afraid. Squire Raymond, did you see that
girl in a black dress, and black ribbons
upon, her hat ? Do you know Susan
1 can't say that I know her, though
mother and I have seen her going by our
door a deal lately, and wondered where
she came from. She's got a good face, but
mother says it's too ninth like a woman's
to be natural. But what of her, child?"
"Well, she's no father or mother, and
she's just living up to Mr. Perry's, clear
beyond the crossing, and she makes beds,
and sweeps rooms, and washes dishes, be
side running of errands, and waiting and
tending upon Carrie and So} kly Perry- -
And 1 don't doubt but they keep her
in business. I don't care to be unkind,
but they are hard people, and I'll warrant
the child gets no rest. Mother said she
looked all fagged out, the poor dear. I
mind, now, they were the very words she
"And 80 she is all fagged out all the
time—just as tired as death. And then
she walks a mile and more to school, and
she has to sweep the school-room and take
care of the halls and the lobbys, for they
do not so touch as pa her schooling, and
she has such a dreadful sideache; but she
never complains. Oft, she is so brave--
such a dear brave girl, Squire Raymond!''
"tin she is—so she is, one of a thou
sand;,' and now Squire Raymond turned
his head a little from Lucy Day, that she
might net see the suspicious moisture in
his eyes, adding—" But go on, little one."
"Aud—and—oh, will you nut take
her? You have no girl of your own, and
it would be so—so nice if yon only would!"
And now Susan Day lifted her dyes plead
ingly to Squire Raymond's law, and the
bright color came and went in her cheeks.
"That's it. Lucy Day, youke hit the
nail right on the head ! Weill take her,
and no mistake! She's too good to wait
on those lazy Perry girls. go right
home and talk it over with, mother, and
we'll have her settled in her new home be
fore the week's out—you may rest your
little heart on that, little one!"
"Oh, I can't hear any more, I'm so
glad—so happy; every thing is so—so jolly,
and you are the best old darling in the
world, you and your Mother Raymond.
But may she call you and Mrs. Raymond
father' and 'mother?' "
"Bless your dear little heart, of course
she may!" and here the Squire fairly
Lroke down and went off on agent to
wards his home, leaving Lucy P y stand
ing in pleasant bewililerm pon the
sidewalk, half sobbing as he we t. "If
the world was made up of snail stud' as
this Lucy Day, 'mould be a rate, fine
world to live in—God bless her kind little
soul I"
And so it came to pass Susan Garnet
was taken into Squire Raymond's beauti
ful home, and, better still, into the loving
hearts of the Squire and his wife, with all th.!
honors and privileges of an only (laughter!
This was one of Lucy Day's good works,
with which her young nfe was constantly
tilled, and running over!
Two years had gone by since the adop
tion of Susan Garnet into Squire Ray
mond's household, and now a sad change
had come over little Lucy Day's life.
In the churchyard of her own pretty
town, Lucy was sitting bending her sweet,
but sad face over two newly-made graves
—the graves of her father and mother,
who, after a short attack of typhoid fever,
had gone from her forever ; and Lucy was
nut only left an orphan, but was without
provision for her future, for her father
had been tempted into the wildest of
speculations, and in one short year, Irem
being reputed the wealthiest man iu the
town, was reduced to absolute penury.
This sudden shock, it was thought, had
helped to hurry both the father and
mother out of life, while, as yet no plan
for Lucy's future had been made.
"It will not do," said Lucy Day to
herself, "for me to sit here crying over
dear papa and mamma, for I must not
make myself sick. I've nobody to take
care of me now, and to-morrow the things
are to be sold, and then I've nowhere to
go but to Mis. Perry's to wait on Carrie
and Sophy. I wish, oh, I wish Squire
Raymond was at home. Of course I don't
think he'd care to have one ; he wouldn't
want two girls, for he's not rich at all now,
since the dreadful gold•mine and that
dreadful coal-mine failed!"
And then Lucy Day dried her eyes, and
went out of the burying-ground slowly,
going in an opposite direction from her
home, saying, as she climed over a stile
that led into the squire's wood :
"'Tisn't right I should be so selfish as
to forget other's troubles, just because of
my own ; so I'll cut across here to find the
things I promised old Mrs. Springer more
than a week ago—some wila flowers and
boxberry leaves !"
So with her pretty, pale face, she went
along, bending forward, now and then, to
puck the pink and white blossoms, and
next she would stoop close to the ground
in search of the aromatic young winter
green-leaves. So busy was she with her
labor of love and her sad thoughts, that
she did not notice a young man approach
ing her—did not look up, though he now
stood just at her side, with his arms rest
ing upon a pile of stones, lotking tetplerly
upon Lucy Day in her black dress, atpl
with her wide-brimmed hat with its black
ribbons. She was all unetaiscious of this,
until a bou h broke under his feet. Then,
lifting her sail eves with a startled look
that suddenly changed into one of pleased
surprise, she cried :
" Oh, Paul Raymond, how glad I am to
see you ! Have your father, and mother,
and Susan come too ? I've needed them
so dreadfully !"
Ten linvs 01 Nonj o constitute a :-,q.nan
1 week .... # 75 it 140+210 + 3 5h t () 11 re
2 weeks... 120 ISO 270 4 50, - S 00 14 (0
weeks... 150 220 3 30, 600 10 00, 17 00
1 month... 175 260 390 7 00 . 12 00 tO 00
2 months.. 275 400 6 00, 10 OW 20 co 88 re
3 months.. 400 600 900 15 00 30 (0 65 COO
6 months.. 700 ll 00 16 !SO' 25 00 40 CO 70 CO
I year 111 00 20 00 30 00 40 00 (0 00, 120 00
Executors' Notice
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Asgignees , Notice.—
Atr "-'
hors' Notice
SPECIAL NOTICES—Ten cents a line for the
first insertion, and Seven cents a line for each
subsequent insertion. •
REAL ESTATE advertisements, Ten cents a
line for the first insertion anci Five cents a Imo
for each additional insertion.
sir -ALL KlNltri OR JOB PRINTINC executed.
with neatness and despatch.
" Yes, we have all come hotne—come as
soon as we could after hearing of your dear
father's and mother's''--
"Then you know it--know all about it,
and you are so very gooti to think of me
I've longed so for yore• father, and moth- ,
er, and yffil. Paul. sink you,
went away."
We thought you would and dear old
father, I never sate• him so shaken by any
thing before as he i 4 now. He says over
z,nd over--` Poor little Lucy—poor little
dear ! we must comiOurt her!'
it is
. just like him --he is so kind
—such a dear, good old man ! and thou
Lucy Day bunt down, with tears drop
ping upon her black dress, and 'began
breaking offsoine sprays of line white flow
ers to add to her louquet.
What are you going to do with
those ?" said Paul. I should think you
had better not tire yourself by running
about after flowers, fir you look quite
pale, and your little hands are trembling,
like a leaf."
"But I must. I'm not getting them
for myself,'' answered Lucy, with her
tears still dropping quietly, adding : "And
the young hOXIa leaves are to make
some cordial for poor old Mrs. Springer,
Paul, and the flowers too, are for her.''
"Oh, I thought it was something of this
kind. It's like you ; think of everybody
before yourself: I never saw a young girl
so full of good works as you, Lucy Day'''
hell I think you've never seen very
many girls, Paul ;" and now a pathetic
little smile slimw out thrutt...di Lucy' ,
" But you mustn't go down there now
to carry them. Father sent me to bring
you up to the house. He'd comelUr you
himself, latt lie•s so taken do‘VII. After
tea, Susan, and you and 1 will go over the
brook by the bridge --that's a pleasant
way--and carry the dowers and boxberry
leaves to Mrs. Springer."
IVell, Paul." And then Lucy laid
her hand in Paul's with a little restful
sigh, and let him lead her along the cross
path to his father's house, and into the
pretty, home-like, south parlor, where the
squire and his motherly wife, and Susan
Garnet were sitting.
"Bless your dear little heart'." cried
the squire, opening his arms to the moth
erless girl, and the nest moment she was
sobbing out her sorrow on his bosom,
while Mother Raymond and Susan were
bendin. , over her, with her eyes running
over with tears, and Paul was looking
from the window with a dimness over his
"Now take oil' her things, mother,"
said the squire, when he had ibund his
voice; " It's so nice to have our little girl
home ! And Susan, you carry them up to
your room. Remember, she's your little
sister now, and always, after this ! Lucy,
haven't you a word to say to your new
mother, and your brother Paul, and—"
"Oh, but it must not be, Squire Ray
mond, it must not be. It would be wrong
in me to--"
•"rhen you'll not call me `fitther,' and
you don't vi ant mother here for your mo
ther, and Susan and Paul fir your sister
and brother—poor little darling !"
" Oh, indeed, I would like it better than
everything in all the world, but you are
not i ich now, and I must not be selfish. I
must go to Mrs. Green's ; I promised to.
I'm going to be Carrie and Sophy Green's
little waitingmaid, Squire Rojnond."
"heaven turbid, child, newer—never"
Don't you say so, mother ?"
" Yes, flatter, I'll work my lingers oil'
before she shall go from our door 1 You
will st y and be our little girl?" and now
motherly Mrs. Raymond smoothed Lucy's
shining curls lovingly. "We have often
talked it over, since Susan came, how
peasant it would be to have two girls
haven't we father ? And now our other
little girl has conic.''
"Indeed we have, child, and we're not
so poor as we thought. The gold mine
isn't a fitilure, and—and—its no use talk
ing, it's a settled thing; this is your
home ! Susan, Paul, come shake hands
with your new sister."
And Lucy laid her hand with a smiling
face into Paul's and Susan's, and then
going to Mrs. Raymond, she knelt down
upon the cricket at her feet and laying her
motherless head upon Mrs. Raymond's
lap, a restful look came into her brown
eyes, and she whispered :
" I did not think, that so soon after papa
and mamma had gone, I should have the
very home I've thougt, ever since I was
a little imp of a girl, I should ask Him to
give me if I was ever to lose mine 1"
"Dear child," replied Mrs. Raymond.
" lie has been very good to us all."
" Yes, Mother Raymond and Father
Raymond. I shall call you that always,
if you will like me to. I can't say • mam
ma' and 'papa'—that belonged to them,
you know. I couldn't say that to any
others in the world !''
" We understand all about that, don't
we, father ?" answered Mrs. Raymond,
with a loving, synipathetic smile.
"And do you know, it was because of
this thought that I would like this for my
home, that made me think of it for Susan.
And now, hero we are together. Oh, 1
didn't think, so soon after they went,
`God would take me up.' '4
Thus was little Lucy Day rewarded.
lier good works had been " Broad cast
upon the %vat:'rs.''
THE raising of a fund for the b,mclit of
Secretary Stanton's family has been com
menced in paiseworthy earliest. Senator
Chandler, of Michigan, heads the list of
contributions with the sum of five thousand
dollars. President Grant his subscribed
one thouhand dollars, and many others
have signified their intention of contribut
ing liberally.
$2 50
2 60
2 50
1 GO