Lancaster intelligencer. (Lancaster [Pa.]) 1847-1922, December 31, 1861, Image 1

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    VOL. LXII.
THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCES,
PIIBLISHZD RUST THIBSDAT ' AT NO. 8 NORTH DOER ULM,
BY car.o.SANDERSON.
TERMS
StrssamenoN.—Two Dollars per annum, payable in ad
vance. No .subecription discontinued until all arrear
ages are.paid, unless at the option of the Editor.
ADVERTl3lMlLNr3.—Atverthements, net exceeding one
—Squire, (If lines,) will-be inserted three times for one
'dollar, and twenty-five .cents for each- additional inser
tion. Those of greater length in proportion.
Jos Thillermai—Such ea Hand Bills, Posters, Pamphlets,
Blauks,,habels, 4c., &c., executed with accuracy and on
the shortest notice. •
Tug -PROCESSION . OF TIE MONTHS.
On New. Year's Eve I sat down, and looked
Into the clear blank air wherein anon
I saw as moving visions, these—the Months.
Eleak January, stern, and hard and cold,
inexorable vanguard of the year ;
His brother following close, with head bent down,
And eyes avert, and lagging, painful tread.
Than March—the younger and lusty. In his breath
Is life—full, daring, fetterless, and wild,
Eager and fatal as a thoughtless love.
Passionate April—girt-child of the year—
Weeping her heart out on the lap of spring,
Until the May-time cometh, flowery fair,
And the earth smiles back the smile of heaven.
June—throbbing, tremulous with coming joy,
Her rosebud pulses thrilling all the air.
And rich July, oppressed with empery,
Bathes in a flood of gold, and taketh rest
By starlight, with low sighs and murmurings.
August, queen-regnant, born unto the throne,
Holding her state with bland, assured content,
Gracious and regal-generous, large of Heart.
September—gentle matron—with sweeteyes
And a low voice that penetrates, persuades,
And looks of love, and tender, guiding hands.
Ootober, with a calm and thoughtful brow,
But quick decision in the look of him,
And a great will that may not be gainsayed.
Sobbing November cometh, veiled in mist,
And weeps, lamenting o'er the faded earth.
And then the last—December—takes its rank
Submissive, and contented to bd old,
Grateful for unthought rays of happiness,
And ever mindful of the holy time
That cometh towards the end.
So they passed on—
The Months, in long procession, glad to go
Unto the goal of all things—even to God.
'TIS ALL TAE SAME IN WINTER.
Hurrah, hurrah, old winter's nigh! no nipping frost
I dread,
The water-lily drops its leaves, all summer flowers
are dead;
The verdure of the meadow, once so beauteous to the
eight,
Lies withered t by the very sun that made its-life so
bright ;
Bat woman's love as brightly beams, no change in
it I see,
'Tie all the same in winter as 'twas in the spring to
use.
The sloping lawn about my home in eloquence doth
speak
Of summer's fading glory and of winter's advent
bleak ;
The whippoorwill bath changed its note, the bobo
link its thrill,
And sighing winds lament the change that marks
the distant hill;
But woman's, dearest woman's love, no change in it
I see,
'Tis all the same in winter as 'twas in the spring to
me.
The world, the world is full of change, and every
thing here giv'n
But tells to man in language plain ' , there's nothing
true - but Heav'n ;"
Yet woman's love when won and nursed, as precious
as 'tis true,
Is seldom marked by changes here, is seldom false
to you;
Unlike the verdure of the earth, unlike the change
fill sea,
'Tie all the same in winter as 'twas in the spring to
me.
Hurrah, hurrah, one loud hurrah old winter's close
at last,
And many a leafless bush and tree will mark its
chilling blast,
And many suns will rise and set and many changes
Come
Ere summer's warmth will change again the verdure
'round my home;
But woman's love unohang'd will shed a lustre o'er
the lea,
Ms all the same in winter as 'twas in the spring to
me.
NOBLE MEN
The noblest men 1 know on earth
Are men whose hands are brown with toil
Who, backed by no ancestral graves,
Hew down the woods, and till the soil,
And win thereby a prouder fame
Than follows king or warrior's name.
The working men! whate'er their task,
To carve the stone, or bear the hod—
They wear upon their honest brows
The royal stamp and seal of God!
And brighter are the drops of sweat
Than diamonds in a coronet !
God bless the noble working men,
Who rear the cities of the plain;
Who dig the mines, and build the ships,
And drive the commerce of the main;
God bless ,hem! for their swarthy hands
Have wrought tho glory of all lands.
Mrs. Sterling's Reception.
When thou makest a dinner, or supper, call not
thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen,
nor thy rich neighbors.'
And so we are really settled in our
own house! It seems too good to be true,
don't it 1'
As John Sterling's 'pretty wife was
speaking, she let down the soft, heavy fall
ing brocatelle curtains of the handsome
room, half parlor, half library, where she
sat with her husband ; turned on a little
more gas, so that the Italian peasant girl
and the dark, bright Spanish woman, on the
alabaster shade of the drop-light, might
display their beauties yet more glowingly ;
and then seated herself in a cozy little
easy-chair, beside the lounge, where her
husband lay stretched out in the enjoyment
of the masculine comforts of evening ease
and household sovereignty. Taking up a
dainty bit of bright-colored knitting, she
went on :
It was very nice. to be sure, boarding
at 'mother's, but it was a sort of vacant life
after all. This is so much better. I have
something to do now.
John Sterling smiled.-
And something to govern. After all,
I believe it is the love of power that makes
you women so delight in homes of your
Own. I don't doubt, gentle as you seem,
that your servants find you as austere as
the Great Mogul.'
4 I declare, John, you are too bad. I
never scold; and I'm sure everything has
gone on so nicely since we have been here.'
A whole week, Nellie, and all the
brooms new. But don't look sober. I
have every confidence in your ability to
keep the wheels moving.'
She sat silent a while, until her husband
began to want to hear her voice again, and
rallied her for her abstraction.
4 What is it, little one You seem in a
brown study about something. Remember
I'm your prime minister, and must know
all the state secrets and cares of govern
ment.'
'I was only wondering, John, whether
you would see a certain matter as I do.
Do you realize how many parties we went
to while we were at mother's ? There were
the Efiirlbuts asked us three times, and the
Graysons twice, and you know we went
everywhere.'
Jcihn Sterling knew that very well.
Somewhat reserved of nature save to those
of his own household, and not fond of
general society, going to a continual round
of parties had been one of the sacrifices he
had made, during ,the first winter of his
Marriage, to please his gay little wife. The
ides crossed his mind, as she spoke, and
'As fpo had wearied of so much witernent,
I and. was.gOirig to propose,.for the future,
a quieter life.
d, I
knew
we
went
Yes,' lie answered,
out a great deal, but I thought you liked
it.'
Yes, I liked it,' she said, with a little
embarassment, for her woman's intuition
' divined the course his thoughts had taken:
I was only flaking, John', that, having
accepted so many invitations, every one
would say we were very mean if we did not
give at least one - large party in,retutn. It
would be just the best, time now, (fon% you
see'? Everything we have is so fresh and
new--our drawingrrooms are really ele
gant ! I should so like to gather our
friends round us, and"give a sort of house
warming!'
g That's a primitive, comfortable-sound
ing term, Nellie. How much would this
friendly little affair cost us 1'
Oh, I've thought that all over. We
should have to ask every one we know. It
wouldn't do to slight any. Besides, the
more the merrier, you know. We could
have Smith get up the supper and furnish
the decorations. His bill would be about
three hundred and fifty—say fifty more for
music ; and a new dress for me.'
Five hundred dollars, eh, Nellie 3'
g Yes, I am sure I could make five hun
dred do it handsomely. I could send out
invitations for week the after next.'
'Well, dear, you must let me dream over
it. I really didn't know receptions were such
expensive affairs. Five hundred dollars
for an evening's entertainment ; and the
prospect of a hard winter, and so much
suffering among the poor! Well, I'll tell
you in the morning. if I can make up
my mind that it is right, you shall have the
party.'
The rest of the evening was a little con
strained. The young wife, seeing that her
husband did not care to talk about the re
ception any more just then, struggled
bravely to avoid the subject, and inasmuch
as it held possession of all her thoughts,
was rather an absent-minded companion.
That night, after his wife was quietly
asleep beside him, John 'Stirling spent an
of not untroubled thought. Unlike Nellie,
he had been brought up in a quiet country
home, where five hundred dollars would
have been thought aby no means inade
quate provision for the support of the whole
family during an entire year. Was it right,
could it be right, to spend it all upon one
evening's entertainment ?—for the sake,
too, of people who would be in no wise
benefited thereby--whose choicest pleas
ures were so common that they had already
palled upon their senses ? But then, as his
wife had suggested, they had been out so
much—would not this drawing back from
a return of civilities look very mean ?—and
John Sterling shrank, with all the pride of
a sensitive man, from the least imputation
of meanness. They were not rich. True,
his capital was his own, and his business was
good, but he had not felt that he could
afford to spend more than three thousand
a year on home expenses, and here was
five hundred extra, upon which he had not
counted, coming at once. Surely he could
not dare, for such a cause, to stint his con
tributions for the relief of the suffering ?
Could he afford it without? Nellie, the
indulged child of wealthy parents knew
nothing of such anxious thoughts ; she
only heard their result in the morning.
Before he gave her his good-by kiss, he
said, in a tone a little more sober than he
meant it• should be.
Well, dear, you shall have your party.—
You can begin making your arrangements
at once. Here is a hundred dollars for the
feminine adornments ; I will pay Smith and
the music afterward.'
That was all. John Sterling had a
sunny, unselfish temper, and when he had
made up his mind to grant his wife the in
dulgence she craved, it would not have
been like him to spoil her pleasure by in
dications of dissatisfaction.
Still, as I have binted,her intuitions were
strong, and her nature sensitive and im
pressible, and she had a certain sense of
having persuaded her husband somewhat
against his wishes that rather disinclined
her to commence her preparations. It was
nearly 11 o'clock before she dressed herself
for her shopping expedition. She was just
tying the strings of her elegant fall hat
when she heard a ring at the door, and
presently a servant came in with the in
formation that a little child, who had
brought home some sewing, wanted to see
her.
Mrs, Sterling was motherly by instinct,
and her heart warmed at once to the shy
little creature Who came timidly in. It was
a girl not more than seven years old—quite
too young, Mrs. Stirling thought, to be
trusted almie in the street; but then she
herself had been brought up under the
successive rule of nursery-maid and gov
erness.
She took the bundle from the child's
Land, and said, with the same bright, kind
smile which had wiled John Sterling's
bachelor heart away:
Where did you come from, and how
did you find the way here alone, you poor
little thing V
Sister Anne sent me, ma'am. She had
done your embroidery, and she thought if
she could get the money for it, to pay Mr.
Jenkins, may be he would let us stay in the
room till she got a little better.'
She is sick, then
Yes'm. She didn't feel well enough to
come. It has been hard getting along all
summer, for the ladies she works for were
most all out of town, and some of them
owing her ; and I s'pose the worry and the
not having much to eat did it, ma'am.'
Mrs. Sterling leaned toward the little
creature and looked at her more closely.
Could. it be hunger, she thought, that made
those blue eyes look so large, and the skin
so transparent? Was this little thing ac
tually suffering for bread, and she going to
spend five hundred dollars in one evening,
feasting those who never felt a want even
of dainties 1 She knew now what thoughts
had been in her husband's mind when he
spoke of the suffering among the poor. She
said, pleasantly :
Well, child, you must have some lunch
eon, and then I will go with you to see
your sister. I had better speak to her about
the work.'
6 Isn't it right? Can't you pay her ?'
The child gave a start of alarm, and spoke
with the premature womanliness and the
natural apprehension of misfortune which
are among the saddest fruits of poverty.
Mrs. Stirling relieved her with ready
sympathy.
Yes,-indeed, the work is all right.
done beautifully ; bat I want to see your
sister about Some , more, and perhaps I can,
do her •good:
"THAT COUNTRY IS TER mon P
LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 31, 1861.
It would have made the kind lady's
heart ache could she have seen the eager
ness with which the half-famished child
devoured the lunch which was set before
her in the kitchen.
In a fow moments they were ready to
start. Mrs. Stirling had replaced her
velvet mantle by a Scotch shawl, her
French hat by a simple straw; and with
a basket in her hand, containing a few
dainties with which she hoped to tempt the
sick girl's palate, she followed the child
across the city toward C—street—a lo
cality hitherto terra incognita to her.
In a half-dilapidated wooden house, in a
narrow court, she found the object of her
search. She went up two flights of stairs,
and entered a back room lighted by one
window. The atmosphere struck her, in
spite of her warm attire, with a sudden
chill. Evidently the sun never came there.
The dampness on the walls, the general
aspect of gloom and cheerlessness, was
only relieved by an air of scrupulous neat
ness, which pervaded everything. Mrs.
Sterling had already noticed this quality in
the attire of the child, which, though cheap
and poor and patched, was as immaculate
in its cleanliness as her own.
At the window, attempting to sew, the
older sister eat, but she was evidently very
ill. Every now and then a spasm of cough
ing seized her, which compelled her to lay
down her work, and clasp both her hands
on her side, while the paleness of her thin
cheek flushed:into hectic. Mrs. Sterling
had not seen her before since spring—the
work returned that morning having been
sent to her by a servant. She went up to
her and sat down in a chair which stood
near.
Your sister said you were sick, and so
I came to see if I could be of use to you,'
she said, in gentle tones, which of them
selves carried a certain comfort with them.
You have changed terribly since spring.
I must hear all about it ; but I want you
should eat what I have brought you—here
are some wine jelly, and a bit of cold
chicken—they will do you good.'
The poor girl looked at the viands with
the involuntary greediness of hunger. Then
she blushed deeply, and said in a low
voice :
I am very grateful, madam, but if you
please, I will wait until you leave me.
Allow me at present to attend to you.'
No indeed !' Mrs. Sterling spoke in her
pretty, absolute fashion. lam not going
yet. I want to talk with you a while, and
I shall not do so until you have taken
something to strengthen you. Little Jane
has lunched already.'
So the gay, bright lady sat and waited,
feeling in the new prospect of being active
ly useful, a genuine glow of delight. When
the girl had finished her generous meal,
and taken up her work again, Mrs. Sterling
began to talk to her.
Is this consumption, Anne V she asked,
gently. Your cough alarms me.'
No, ma'am, I am very sure it is nothing
of the kind yet. There is no consumption
in our family. My father was a country
minister, and had a strong and healthy con
stitution. He died young, but it was from
a violent fever, caught in attendance on a
sick stranger. I think it was grief which
made my mother follow him in three
months. She had always been delicate,
though not sickly, and she lacked the
strength it requires to live and suffer. It
is seven years since she died, on the very
day little Jane was born.'
4 How old were you then V
Fifteen, and there were no living chil
dren between us two.'
And have you supported yourself and
her ever since 1'
Oh no ! My father's books and furniture
sold for enough to keep us some time ; and
my aunt, who lived here, brought us to
Boston. We both lived with her. She
took care of Jane, and I worked in a shop,
and earned enough to buy our clothes and
help Aunt Martha with the living. It is
only since she died, three years ago, that
I have been alone with Jenny.'
You came out of the shop then ?'
g Yes, because I could not have Jenny
there with me, and she had no one else to
see to her ; and indeed I have made more
money since, I have embroidered so"much.'
But surely you have suffered more than
usual this summer ?'
Oh yes, ma'am. The ladies I work for
are mostly out of town in the summer
always, and so winters I try to save some
thing to help us through. But last winter
was so hard that I had not as much work
as usual, and this summer we have not
been very well off. I had to give up the
comfortable room I used to have, because
I could not earn enough to pay for it, and
I suppose the dampness here has not just
agreed with me.'
She tried to smile, but the teats came
instead. Mrs. Stirling took her hand with
a comforting pressure.
Don't cry. Better times are coming to
you now. lam sure I can influence you a
good deal mote work. You shall have
enough to do, and we must see that you
move out of this damp, unhealthy place.'
Sister Anne smiled sadly.
The landlord has seen to that, madam.
I can only stay here three days longer.
He wants to let the room to a tenant who
will pay more ; and I have been troubled
for fear I should not be able to go out and
find another place.'
Well, you must not feel anxious. Just
leave that till to-morrow. Then if you are
not able to go, I will find a place for you.
It cannot be a difficult matter to find one
as good as this. At any rate, to-morrow
you shall see me again ; and in the mean
time the pay for the work little Jane
brought home will make you comfortable.'
So saying, she put into the girl's hand
twice the customary price for the embroi
dery she had done, and without waiting for
the thanks which trembled on Anne Hady's
pale lips, she went out of the room, down
the , stairs, and returned home after this
her first charity visit.
On the way she stopped but once, and
that was not to look into any of the win
dows gay with autumn goods, or to ex
change her hundred dollar note on the
suffolk Bank for silks or satins. She only
went in for a moment to a neat, respectable
looking house on Myrtle street, and then
hurried home.
She met her husband, when he came to
his five o'clock dinner; with a beaming
smile. The meal was well cooked and
neatly served ; the wife opposite him was
young and fair; and when John. Sterling
; rose from the table and went with her into
their cozy evening room, it is no wonder
he said to himself that this being in one's
own homeiyasn't so bad a. thing after all.
What is it, NellieT he WO, after .:a
a MA :11.):X t : ! )" ti th i 4:y_11:4 -17LVA
while, in answer to a questioning, hesitat
ing ook in his wife's eyes. She drew
nearer to him.
You are sure, John, you can spare me
that five hundred dollars without doing any
injustice to yourself or your business—
without patting aside any rightful claims I'
I hope, Nellie, if I had not thought. so,
I should not have given it to you, much as
I love to please you.'
Tken what,' she spoke hesitatingly,
' what if I wanted very much indeed to use
it for something else 3'
don't understand what you can pos
sibly mean.'
For, answer she detailed to him the events
of the day. When she was through, she
said :
; It seems so hard, John, for that poor
girl, a minister's daughter too, to be suffer
ing for food ; and living, or rather dying
by inches, in that miserable, damp, 'un
healthy place. I can see how, with a
hundred dollars, I could make her so com
fortable. I stopped in at Nurse Smead's,
on my way home to-day, and I found that
she had a nice, bright, good-sized room,
where the sun lies half the day, which she
will let for seventy dollars a year. There
is a stove in it already, and a carpet on
the floor, and thirty dollars more would
supply it with everything needed for com
fort. Now if I could pay the rent of that
room a year in advance for Anne Hadly,
and fit it up neatly, what a fine start it
would be for her ! It would give her such
a rest—such freedom from care ! She
would have time to get well. She is very
skilful with her needle, and with the work
she could easily do she could live so nicely,
and Jenny could go to school. I have it
all planned ; and there, with your permis
sion, goes the hundred dollars in my
podket.'
John Sterling looked at his wife, and it
seemed to him, with the generous, unsel
fish light illuminating it, her face was as
the face of an angel. But he did not say
so then. He answered, in the tone of one
raising an objection.
But what would you wear to the party,
Nellie ? I should not like you to look
shabby I'
Trust me for that. I can wear my
wedding dress. It is such a rich, heavy
white silk, and it is not soiled at all.—
With a little different arrangement of the
trimmings it will be as handsome as any
thing I should get. But are you quite set
upon giving the party, John
Are not you, dear ?'
I was.'
There was a pause of a few moments,
in which Nellie tied and untied the tassels
of her little silk apron several times.—
Then she looked up, an eager light shining
through the mist which had somehow
gathered before her oyes.
I suppose there are many people in the
city, John, just as worthy as Anne Eladly,
and needing help just as much?'
g Without doubt, Nellie; plenty of worse'
cases, especially now that winter is coming
on.'
Could you help me find them?'
I think I could. Some oases of desti
tution, which he Cannot afford to relieve,
makes a business man's heart ache almost
every day.'
Then four hundred dollars extra,
which you would not have given otherwise
will do a good deal, won't it ?'
Yes a great deal. It is a large sum.'
'Yes, it is a large sum, as you said last
night, John, to be spent on a single eve
ning's entertainment for those who do not
need it, but not large when we compare it
with the - wants of those who suffer. John,
I have no desire to give that party. Will
you take the money for doing good
But those who have invited us, Nellie?
The Hurlburts, the Graysons—all your
many friends ? One wouldn't like to be
thought mean
We can ask them all, a few at a time—
all those we care for. Your ordinary
housekeeping allowance is liberal enough
for that. If that does not please them,
after all, John '—and the' little woman hid
her face on her hu nd's shoulder, for
she was one who sel om uttered her deep
est thoughts, or mentioned, even to him,
the emotions which she held most sacred—
' If they should not approve it, it matters
so much more what Ho thinks who told us
to invite to our feasts the poor, the maimed,
the blind. I have been blind till to-day,
John. I don't care for large parties any
more.'
, You shall do as your own heart has
counseled you, Nellie. The money shall
be at your disposal to-morrow. We will
give our reception to the guests whom God
himself chose for us.'
He said no more just then, but Nellie.
Sterling had unconsciously gained in that
hour a new and holier hold on the heart of
her husband. He had loved the gay, half
spoiled girl- r -what word expresses what he
felt for the noble, self-sacrificing woman
whom that day had revealed to him ?
Anne Hadly's heart was lightened next
day of a weary burden, and she was as
grateful for Mrs. Sterling's delicacy as for
her aid.
6 It is not a gift to you,' the lady said,
as she explained the arrangements she had
made. You are to help yourself the
same as before. 1 only want to offer my
tribute to your father's memory—your
father who lost his life in ministering to
an unknown penitent. Fer the sake of
that Christian man, who, like his Master,
counted not his life dear unto him, if
thereby he might save some, you must ac
cept it.'
Need I say how many sad hearts came
to John and Ellen Sterling's feast that
winter, and were comforted—how many
hungry mouths were filled—how many fires
were kindled in cheerless rooms ? Was
the sacrifice of giving up one evening,
brilliant with lights, odorous with flowers,
jocund with music, gay with dance and
song, too great ! Lst the day of everlast
ing reckoning declare !
TEST OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER.-
' Well, Doctor, said an attorney, what is
the character of- the defendant?'
A Christian.'
He a Christian, sir V
Yes, sir, a gdod Christian ; a most ex
emplary Christian.'
''Well, how do you know this V
e I know it, sir, because I attended him
through a fit of the gout, and never once
heard him swear.'
Ty- A young lady of California, recen
tly broke her neck while ressisting an
Attempt of a young man to kiss her. This
farnishpait,fflitiffil wan:Of/ea - A* ladies.
-BUCHANAN.
Eva, the Minister's Wife.
BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES
The pulpit at Ellingwood had long been
filled by Parson C- 1 a white haired,
aged man, who for thirty years had broken
to his people the bread of life, and whose
palsied hand had sprinkled the baptismal
water on many a youthful brow, which,
now in the better land, was encircled by a
crown of never-fading glory. But the old
man's work was well nigh ended, and one
Sabbath he told his congregation, with
quivering lips and streaming eyes, that he
could preach to them no longer.
And so a young man, fresh from the I
University, was called to fill his place.
Seldom before, or since, has the old stone
church at Ellingwood been so densely
crowded as it was on the first Sabbath after
Mr. Stanwood's arrival, for marif strangers,
besides those who had become somewhat
disaffected under Parson C—'s adminis
tration, now came to hear the new minister.
The large, velvet-cushioned pew of IA idow
Bliss, who lived with her four daughters,
of a certain age, in the big white house on
the hill-side, was again occupied, a thing
which had not been for months, as the
widow had taken offence at Parson C—,
because he on one Sabbath preached a
sermon on election, in which he firmly be
lieved, while on the next Sabbath he
refused to preach on abolitionism, in which
he also believed, but not exactly as Widow
Bliss did, he thinking it just possible that
there might now and then be a good
Christian south of Mason and Dixon's
line,' while Mrs. Bliss openly denounced
them all.
As the lamented husband of the widow
had borne the title of General, his lady
thought herself of considerable conse
quence, and so, because she couldn't rule
the church, she withheld her patronage,
groaning over its wretched condition, while
her eldest daughter, Matilda, who went
slip shod, and affected to be literary, wrote
several newspaper articles, touching the
necessity of having for a minister a man
of humanity, a man of common sense, and
a man of God.' But now a new era was
dawning upon the [five Misses. Parson
0-- had resigned his post which was to
be filled by a young, a handsome, and
what was better than all an unmarried ]
man. The last was possibly the reason
why, on the first Sabbath of Mr. Stan
wood's labors, there were in the congrega
tion so many young ladies, and why Matilda,
Bliss dressed herself with such unusual
care, flourishing her gold pencil and sheet
of foolscap so that Mr. Stanwood might
know she was taking notes of his sermon,
which she pronounced to be the most im
pressive,
touching and sublime discourse
she had ever heard,' and then, too,she know
he had a fine ear for music, by the way he
scowled when Juliet Lindsey screamed so
loud in the gallery.'
Was there ever a choir of singers who
did not quarrel more or less If so, it ;
was not the choir of Ellingwood, which as
long as Matilda Bliss led the van, were in
a continual uproar. Besides being pitched
on three flats, Matilda's voice had in it a
slight crack, just big enough to let all the
bad sounds out, while it resolutely kept
all the good ones in. Of this, however,
she was not in the least aware, and when
her fellow singers made an effort to dis
lodge her from their ranks, there was war
at once,] ;: the five Blisses, with a few others,
heading one party, while everybody else
headed the other. The contest was a I
fierce one, but it ended in the removal of
Matilda and the installation in her place
of Juliet Lindsey, on whom the five Blisses
ever after looked with evil eyes. The
widow sometimes groaning audibly and
dropping suddenly into her seat when
Juliet, on purpose to tease her, poured out
some of her loudest strains.
Once, as the people were leaving the
church, Matilda whispered to Juliet's sister
Mary, asking her if her grandmother
was not in the gallery that day.'
Grandma ! why no,' exclaimed Mary ;
what made you think so
Oh,' returned Matilda, I didn't turn
round when they were singing, but I heard
a voice which sounded so much like an old
woman's that I thought perhaps Juliet was
sick, and your grandmother had taken hot
place.' And with a feeling of relief the
amiable lady walked away.
For a few months after this the pew of
the Blisses was vacant, during which time
there ensued a degree of quiet, and when
they came again to church, the singing was
of minor importance, as Matilda had con
ceived the idea of becoming Mrs. Stan
wood. To accomplish this, the young
minister, full ten years her junior, was
each week invited to take tea at the
Mansion,' as they termed their place of
residence—Mrs. Bliss and her other three
daughters usually managed to leave him
alone for some time with the learned
Matilda who spared no pains to impress
him with a sense of her superior wisdom.
Many of his books were borrowed, looked
through, marked, and returned, always by
Matilda herself, who thus became a fre
quent visitor at his study, where she some
times staid for hours, greatly to the annoy
ance of the young man, who grew fidgety
under the infliction.
At last he one day left for the City of
Elms, where, rumor said, there dwelt a'
dark-eyed girl, who would ere long come
to Ellingwood as the clergyman's wife.
But to this Mrs. Bliss was utterly incredu
lous. She knew better—Mr. Stanwood
would never have given so much encourage
ment to Matilda if he had been engaged
to some one else ; it was all sheer false
hood, and so they would find.' .
She changed her mind,, however, when
on the first Sabbath after Mr. Stanwood's
return, he brought with him to the church
a pale, fragile creature, who leaned con-'
fidingly upon his arm, and then, the
moment he left her, shrank like a startled
fawn from the prying eyes which gazed so
curiously upon her. She was very beauti
ful—too beautiful for the envious Matilda
—and forthwith from the mansion on the
hillside open hostilities were declared
against the neat cottage in the valley,
where the young stranger, scarcely yet
seventeen, first tried the mysteries of,
housekeeping, of which she was as ignorant'
.as the merest child. Of course her mis
takes were numerous and ludicrous, elicit
ing from that portion of the villagers who
followed in the wallet of the Blisses, many
ill-natured remark" concerning herself and
husband, the latter s3f whom was severely
eensured for giving - to his people a wife
who knew no better than 6 to bake bread
in the morning and throw it away at night.'
In Ellingwood, which boasted many ei-i
oellent !timekeepers who - thought' the
scrubbing of a - floor, or the - dnsting of a
chair, the chief end Of woman, to be ignor
! ant of bread-making was, of course, a great
fault, but it was soon forgotten in the more
serious accusations brought against her by
Matilda Bliss, who said 4 she was neither
a scholar nor a Christian.' The former was
proved by her declining to write for The
Young Ladies' Literary Society,' saying,
as an excuse, that she had never written
an article fit to be seen in her life.' For
the latter charge there was still more de
oisive proof, as she had more than once
been heard to say that she thought there
was no harm in occasionally dancing in
one's own parlor, and that when at home
she and her brother frequently amused
tkemselves in this way between daylight
and dark.
This was enough for the Basses, and
the next Sabbath their velvet-oushioned
pew was again vacant, for they could not
in conscience listen to a minister who
would marry a woman that had no reli
gion ! There must be something wrong in
him, and suddenly they remembered many
things which they had seen, all of which
proved that he was
. not what he should
be.' The Misses were not without their
influence, which ere long began to mani
fest itself in the gradual dropping off of
the members of Mr. Stanwood's congrega
tion, some of whom went over to the Meth
odists, while others betook themselves to
the parlors of the mansion, where every
Sabbath an opposition meeting was held,
the zealous Matilda usually leading and
praying long and loud for victory over
her enemies.'
To a sensitive nature like Mrs. Stan
wood's this state of things was exceedingly
annoying, for she felt that in some way she
was the cause of it, and at length her
health, always delicate, began to fail, She
was the last of five beautiful sisters who
one by one had fallen victims to that great
New England destroyer, consumption. In
her case as in theirs, there were no weary
days and nights of pain and watching, but
a gradual undermining of the well spring
of life. From the first Mr. Stanwood had
foreseen the result. He knew there was
death in her veins, and that sooner or later
his fireside would be desolate, and she
would be gone ; so that when the storm
without rolled its angry surges over and
around him, he cared but little if he only
shielded her from its force. But this he
could not do, for she saw everything whioh
was passing, and day by day the light in
her blue eyes grew brighter and brighter,
while the hectic bloom upon her cheek took
a deeper hue.
And all this time she came .among the
people as of old ; not a Sabbath was she
missed from the church until one morning
in the Indian summer time, when there
was heard in Ellingwood the tolling bell,
and as they counted seventeen, they won
dered who had gone. Half an hour after
there came to them the startling news that
Eva Stanwood was dealf—that she died in
the night with no one near but her husband!
It was true• Eva was dead, and the next
day, towards the hour of sunset, the stone
church was filled to its utmost capacity,
and among those present none sobbed
lovder or hung over the lifeless form more
tenderly than did Matilda Bliss. Possibly
remorse might have touched her hard heart
but few had charity enough to think so.—
The grief, however, of the other members,
who had strayed so far away, was more
sincere, and around young Eva's coffin
many who had been estranged, grasped the
friendly hand and mingled together their
tears of sorrow.
It was terrible to witness the anguish
of the pastor, which was not manifested
in any loud outbreak of feeling, but was
visible in every lineament of his face—in
the spasmodic quivering of his white lips,
and in the low, bitter moans of agony,
which had in them the tones of a broken
heart, as ho bowed his manly head and
wept over her he had called his for the
brief space of a year; They buried her on
a sunny slope, and from her early grave
came more than one lesson of good to the
inhabitants of Ellingwood. At first they
feared lest their pastor would leave them,
but Eva's grave was there,' he said,
and he would rather remain.' So he
staid, and from that time forth scarcely
ono was missing from his congregation,
and when ho saw how united in mind and
heart they were, he felt that through his
afflictions good had come to them, and that
Eva had not died in vain.
Legends of Killarney.
One of the legends of the lake is told
thus : ,4 Once every seven years, on a fine
morning, before the first rays of the sun
have begun to disperse the mists from the
bosom of the lake, the O'Donaghue comes
riding over it on a beautiful snow-white
horse, intent upon household affairs, fair
ies hovering before him, and strewing his
path with flowers. As he approaches his
ancient residence, everything turns to its
former state of magnificence—his castle,
his library, his prison, and his pigeon
house, are reproduced as in the olden time.
Those who have courage to follow him over
the lake, may cross the deepest parts dry
footed, and ride with him into the opposite
mountains, where his treasures lie con
cealed ; and the daring visitor will receive
a liberal gift in return for his company,
but before the sun had risen, the O'Dona
ghue recrosses the water, and vanishes
amidst the ruins of his castle.'
Another relates how a young and beau
tiful girl named Melcha, when wandering
along the banks of the beautiful lake, af
ter the last rays of the setting sun had
gilded the horizon, saw by the pale light
of the silvery moon, which had just risen,
a plumed head rise ontr of the lake. Gaz
ing on the phantom, she distinctly saw
the full form of a chieftain on a white
charger, gliding slowly towards her. He
had a chivalrous look, and in his hand a
wand, surmounted with a golden shamrock.
They had an interview. She loved. He
promised a happy life under the green
waves. She agreed to be his on the next
May morn. May morn arrived, and Mel
oha was ready in her bridal dress ; she
stood on a high rock on the borders of the
lake, just as ; the sun began to gild the
surrounding mountains; soon she heard
rapturous music, the air was perfumed with
delicious odors, and she beheld a train of
beautiful damsels arise from the water all
clothed in white, scattering spring flowers
around, then a group of young children
with fragrant flowers, and behind, O'Don
aghue on his white orse, whioh was led
by Naiads. As the train moved on, boys
and damsels came up and followed, till the
whole were opposite Mach& He wore a
- glittering helmet, white , I ,ibrlnor, the
crimson . - saarfillefehitliad titeLbinCwhen
they parted. She knew not what to do, or
how to join her , lover, but directly she
stepped back a few paces, and running,
made a big jump off the rook; O'Dona
ghue rushed forward and caught her in his
arms, before she reached the water ; the
entire train gathered around the Chief and
his bride, and all sunk beneath the waves,
nor has the lovely Meloha been seen from
that day to this.
TEE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER
JOB PRINTING ESTAJ3LINIZICENZ .
No. 13 NORTH DUKE STREET, LANOASTIIR, PA.
The Jobbing Department le thoroughly furnished with
new and elegant type of every deicriptlon, and is under
the charge of a practical and experienced Joh . Printer.•-•
The Proprietors are prepared to
PRINT OREM,
NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS. •
CARDS AND CIRCULARS,
BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS,
PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS,
PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS,
BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS,
PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN-PRINTING,
with neatness, accuracy and dispatch, or, the most reasona
ble Lerma, and In a manner not excelled by any eriaddish
xnent in the city.
AZ- Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise,
promptly attended to. Address
GEO. SANDERSON k, SON,
Office,
No. 8 North Duke street, Lanceater, Pa.
SOMETHING FOR THE TIRES t I
- 419?- A NECESSITY IN EVERY HOUSEHOLD. -eit
JOHNS 3 . MOSLEY'S
AMERICAN CEMENT GLUE
The Strongest Glue to the World
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is the only article of the kind ever produced which
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Save the pieces of that expensive Cut Glees Bottle.
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Don't throw away that broken Ivory Van, it Is sadly Fe
paired.
IT WILL 'MEND 0111 NA,
•
Your broken China Cups and Saucers can be made all good
IT WILL MEND MARBLE,
That piece knocked out of year Marble htantle'can be pot
on as strong as Over
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No matter if that broken Pitcher did not coat but a shit
ling, a shilling saved is a shilling earned
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That costly Alabaster Vase is broken and you can't match
it, mead it, it will never show when put together.
IT WILL !LEND BONE, CORAL, LAVA, AND IN FACT
EVERY TILING BUT METALS
Any article cemented with AMERICAN CEMENT GLUE
will not show where lt le mended
EESIZITIM
"Every Housekeeper should have a supply of Johue
Crosley's American Cement Glue."—.Neio York Times.
" It is so convenient to have in the house."-
Express.
• It is always ready; this commands it to everybody."—
independsmt.
" We have tried it, and find it as useful in our house as
water."—Wilkes' Spirit of the Thelet.
ECONOMY IS WEALTH
$lO.OO per year saved in every family by One Bottle of
AMERICAN CEMENT GLUE
Price 26 Cente per Bottle
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Prfee 25 Centel per Bottle
VERY LIBERAL REDUCTION TO WHOLEISALA
LIIMM
TERMS CASH
44- For Sale by all Druggists and Storekeepers generally
throughout the country.
JOHNS & °BOSLEY,
(Sole Manufacturers,)
78 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK,
Corner of Liberty Street.
Important to Moore Owners
Important to Builders
Important to Railroad Companies
Important to Farmem.
To all whom this may concern, and it concerns everybody
JOHNS & °BOSLEY'S
IMPROVED GOTTA. PERCHA CEMENT ROOFING,
The Cheapest and most durable Roofing In use
IT IS FIRE AND WATER PROOF
It can be applied to new and old Roofs of all kinds, steep
or flat, and to Shinge Roofs without removing the
Shingles.
THE COST IS ONLY ABOUT ONE-THIRD THAT OB
TIN, AND IT IS TWICE AS DURABLE.
This article has been thoroughly tested In New York
city and all parts of the United States, Canada, West Indies
and Central and South America, on buildings of all kinds,
such as Factories. Foundries, Churches, Railroad Depots,
Cars, and on Public Buildings generally, Government
Buildings, Ac., by the nannies]: Builders, Architects and
others. during the past four years, and has proved to be the
Cheapest and most durable Roofing in use; It Is In every
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for Roofs of all kinds.
Thls is the only material manufactured In the United
States which combines the very desirable properties of
Elasticity and Durability, which are universally acknowl
edged to be possessed by Otata Percha and India Rubber.
NO HEAT IS REQ ".: e.•• s toss
The expense of applying it is trifling, as an ordinary Hoof
can be cdvered and finished the same day.
IT CAN BE APPLIED BY ANY ONE,
and when tinisheadfortas a perfectly Fire Proof surface,
with an elastic body, which cannot be Iniared' by Heat,
Cold or Storms, Shrinking of Roof Boards, nor any aiter
nal action whatever.
LIQUID GIITTA PERCHA CHHENT,
For Coating Metals of all Kinds when exposed to the
Action of the Weather, and
FOR PRESERVING AND REPAIRING METAL ROM
OF ALL KINDS.
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fully resist extreme ehangee of all climates, for any length
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forming a-body equal to three coats of onlinary paint,
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from its elasticity is not injured by the contraction and
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with GOTTA EERCIIA CEMENT, and prevented from
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for preserving and repairing Tin and other Metal Roofs of
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These materials are adapted to all climates, and we • aye
prepared to supply orders from any part of the country, at
short notice, for GOTTA YERCIIL ROOFING In rolls,
ready prepared for use, and GOTTA. ERROHL OBIHINT
in barrels, with full printed directions for application..
AGENTS WANTED
We will make liberal and satisfactory arrangements
with responsible parties who would like to eatabligh theta
selves in a lucrative and permanent businesi •
OUR TERMS ARE CASK
' We can give abundant proof of all we elaim.in favor of
our Improved Booting Materiels, bayineapplied - them to
several thousand Roofs in New York eitr
JOHNS & B, c).13
Bole Nanttheiuxem,
Wnomus Weunotras, 78 Mame' Mum '
Corner of fAbelitY;filirf4e:: .1:13W YORK.
Pea dirmettkee Cireplani aallMoe ca
11.01 01 4 4 . .
NO. 5t.;
=MI
=OM